Amazon_Signs of the Secret

by Ms. Becky J. Rhush

  “You can’t save this one.” Masseeia’s eyes burned on Hippolyta as she twisted Kia-Maie’s neck, pitching the child to the dirt. “Next.”

  Hippolyta lunged, swinging her sword at the First Commander’s head, but before the swordplay could go further, light flooded the stable.

  “Palius!”

  Palius gasped, running past Masseeia to the doorway where the Queen and Laidea stood.

  “Finally come to kill me, Perseathea?” Masseeia jumped up, grabbing another rafter, swinging herself atop a stall divider and onto a waiting horse. The mount spooked as she landed, bucking up with Masseeia grappling to hang on. Before the hooves hit the ground, Bartamius sprung from the high rafters, toppling down onto Masseeia, crashing them both into the hay.

  Light busted in from the back of the room, spilling Tythose, Valasca, Lathenia, and Belsiphiny into the stable. Using the distraction, Perseathea and Laidea hurried to aide Bartamius, pinning Masseeia down.

  After a few rough moments, Laidea and Queen Perseathea lugged the First Commander to her feet. Masseeia struggled in their hold, flailing and cursing. Bartamius swung a fist into her face. Unfazed, the woman spit her blood onto his boot, bellowing out more curses. The man struck her several more times, the last of these being a solid shot, turning Masseeia quiet. The First Commander’s head dropped to her chest.

  Perseathea let loose of the woman, leaving her to hang in Laidea’s arms, then swooped Palius up, pressing the child into her chest.

  "Are you alright?" She asked, feeling the concerns only a mother could understand. Palius gave her mother a reassuring nod. Perseathea looked the child over anyway, searching bruises and cuts.

  "I’m alright.” Palius lit up. “Hippolyta saved me."

  The Queen smiled, smoothing her daughter's dirty hair from her face. “You’re a good warrior, Hippolyta.” The Queen flit eyes to the woman. “I will not forget this.”

  Hippolyta dipped her head in respect. “Thank you, my Queen.”

  Slipping Palius to her feet, Perseathea turned back to Bartamius. Gazing on him without words, she pulled him into an embrace as well.

  “After all this time….”

  “I’ve missed you too.” He whispered, tightening his arms around her. “I’m sorry that I couldn’t see you before all of this. I-”

  “No.” Perseathea held him closer. “You did as you could. I will always be grateful.” She leaned back from him, looking up into her brother’s eyes. “For this time, and the last.”

  Bartamius smiled, palming Perseathea‘s cheek. After a deep, silent moment, he spoke again. “I can see myself in your face.”

  Laidea stepped forward, putting a gentle hand on the Queen’s shoulder. “Perseathea… the battle still rages.”

  Running in through the stable’s back door, I breathed a sigh of relief at the sight of everyone waiting inside. Rushing up to the Queen, I hugged her without thinking.

  “I’m here.” I said out of breath. “I’d been here sooner but-”

  “You’re here now,” she said, holding me, “that’s all that matters.”

  Pulling both Palius and I in under her arms, Queen Perseathea glanced to Tythose. “Can you get my daughters out of here?”

  He nodded. “We’ll take the horses.”

  “You’re a good man.”

  “But wait.” I looked to the Queen. “I can’t leave without Sara or… without her body.”

  “She’s here.” Tythose said.

  My breath stuck in my chest, and I had to force out the word. “What?”

  “I found her some time ago, stumbling through the battle.”

  “Where is she?”

  “Back there.” The soldier motioned to the furthest empty stall. My heart sank in my chest, but determined, I sprinted to the stall. In a mound of hay, she lay there, motionless, soaking in blood. I dropped to my knees, pulling her into my arms.

  “Oh gods….” I hugged Saratiese into my chest, feeling the wet on my skin. She felt so lifeless, so heavy.

  Valasca knelt next down beside me and I looked to my friend, grief warming inside my chest. “I… I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  Valasca’s eyebrows drew together. “She’s not gone.”

  “What?”

  “She’s not gone,” Valasca put her arm around me, “at least… not yet.”

  “It’s time we go.” Tythose called to me and Valasca.

  Bringing Saratiese with us, we met back with the others, following Tythose to the horses. Taking the first for himself, he mounted with Palius and Lathenia. Belsiphiny and Valasca took the second, and I took the mustang for me and Saratiese.

  Queen Perseathea turned to Hippolyta, motioning for the axe at her hip. Looking at the blade and remembering Kelius, the woman complied, and the Queen brought it to the foot of my horse.

  “Make certain Palius gets out of here safe.” She slipped the weapon into my saddlebag.

  “I will.”

  She took my hand, squeezing it. “Goddess be with you.”

  “We’ll meet in Pahll-sus after this is over?” Tythose asked of Bartamius.

  “Yes.”

  “And you’ll bring Soh-la, and the others?”

  Bartamius gripped Tythose by the elbow. “Of course.”

  Tythose sat back up in posture, leading our horses into a trot, escorting us out the door and back into the battle.

  Bartamius took a deep breath. “Let’s bind her.”

  Hippolyta drug Masseeia, still unconscious, over to the nearest beam, propping the woman up as Laidea and Perseathea wrapped a rope several times around the woman’s chest.

  When they finished, Perseathea took a step back, standing with her brother. “Are you sure you can do this? She’s our sister. That’s Essicka.”

  “That was our sister… once.” Bartamius put an arm around Perseathea, pulling her in. “But the woman standing there now is not Essicka. Not anymore.”

  Perseathea pulled away from him, stepping to Masseeia. “Forgive me, Essicka.” She whispered. “But my daughters must be protected.”

  Smoke wafted heavier from the rafters now, floating level with their heads. Not a moment later, a portion of burning ceiling crashed into the hay, catching fire.

  “We can’t stay here any longer.” Hippolyta pulled up onto one of the frightened horses. “We’ll be trapped.”

  “Say a prayer for our dead.” Queen Perseathea said. “We have no time to claim them.”

  The flaming hay crackled, scorching higher, nearing where Masseeia stood tied to the post, unaware. Laidea and Perseathea pulled onto their mounts as Bartamius slid the stable doors open. Another portion of fiery ceiling dropped, spooking the horses to shuffle and buck.

  “Go!” He shouted.

  The Amazons kicked their steed into a gallop, fleeing the burning stable. Bartamius pulled onto his own horse, casting one last glance to Masseeia. Another portion of flaming ceiling crashed between him and the unconscious Amazon. Kicking his steed, he galloped out of the blazing stable, leaving Masseeia to burn with it.

  Chapter 73

  Tythose busted the three horses into the yard, fusing us into the throng of hate. Soldiers and Amazons passed under us in a torrent of chaos, tumbling at our sides, crushing beneath our steed. Dying steamed the air with its stench of blood and smoke, burning my eyes. With Saratiese unconscious in my arms, I drove my mount, pressing through the thick mob, hurdling the riot of blades swiping at my feet. The hiss of fire sizzling over men’s flesh melded into the fight of thousands to clang loud in my ears… a song of death I would not soon forget. But I held steady, my hands turning white as I gripped the reins, charging wild through the deep of combat. Saratiese bobbed in my arms, nearly slipping from my hold at every turn.

  Ahead, Tythose charged, trampling past a swarm of panicked soldiers and over the downed gate. Valasca and Belsiphiny hurdled up it and I followed, my mustang floundering atop the shifty gate as the wood tottered atop the bodies beneath it.

  Setting into
the field, a rush of cool swept me, cleansing my smoke choked lungs. Thousands swarmed the grassland like wasps, flinging and swinging desperate blades. Blood, fire, and fight seized the grass like a possessor of the land, pulverizing black armor and bones into the dirt.

  Tythose led our horses, heading for the trees to Pahll-sus. I thundered on behind the two horses, Saratiese’s blood smearing red in my elbows. Our three steed leapt one dead body after another, slipping in the blood, striving not to falter in the clutter of arms and legs below. Spilt blood plagued the field in a hundred red fingered brooks, the yellow grass swaying in the smoky afternoon wind, tainted red by the blood of crusade.

  Storming toward the trees, I leaned into Saratiese, wrapping myself around the girl to hold her steady, then took a last look over my shoulder. The Gragorian fortress clouded in smoke, choking under the bright orange flames devouring its’ mortar. Ashes speckled the breeze, floating down on us like gray snow. The crash of crumbling walls boomed across the field like thunder, tensing me every time. I looked to the trees ahead, our salvation, my heart beating too wildly to be trapped in my body. And it struck me. This wasn’t over for me. I had to go back. As our small company galloped toward the forest edge, I pulled back on my horse, rearing up in a buck.

  I shouted after them. “Wait!”

  Tythose and Valasca slowed their steed, trotting back to me, matching confusion in their expressions.

  “Askca, come on!” Valasca motioned with her arm.

  “I can’t do this.” I shook my head, sliding from my horse. Pulling Saratiese down after, I cradled the bloody girl in my arms, offering her up to Valasca and Belsiphiny. Tythose trotted in closer, Palius and Lathenia nuzzled between his arms.

  He wiped the gray sweat from his forehead. “What are you doing?”

  “I can’t leave.”

  “You can’t go back.” Belsiphiny warned, pulling Saratiese into a more secure hold. “Askca, you’ll be killed.”

  Ignoring her words, I heaved back onto my mustang. “If I don’t, Sara dies for nothing.”

  “But-”

  “It means I came here for nothing.”

  “But we saved the Queen.” Lathenia hugged into Palius. “That is why we came.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “Queen Perseathea is still back there.”

  “Askca,” Tythose eyed me, his tone serious, “you know the reason this all began was-”

  “I know.” I cut him off. “That’s why I have to go back. This will never end… not until Gragore is dead.”

  I could see the worry in Palius’ eyes as she sat with Tythose, and I could tell she didn’t plan to speak, or try to stop me. But her eyes shone with anxiety, and for a reason I couldn’t explain, it overwhelmed me. I didn’t know if the child could affect me with such emotions because we shared blood, or if it were something more. I only knew that her feelings spoke to me, pressing into me like a corporal being. Ours was a spiritual connection turned solid, and so heavy hearted, I felt compelled to temper her concern. I trotted to Tythose, taking my sister’s hand in my own.

  “This is not my day to die.” I assured her, speaking the words to comfort myself as well.

  She squeezed my hand, the burden lifting from her blue eyes. “This is not your day to die.”

  Put at ease by her response, I wondered how much was behind what she said, but I let the thought drift from my mind. There were other things to think on now. More pressing matters. Dropping her hand, I glanced back to Tythose.

  “Get them to Pahll-sus. All of them.”

  He lifted his chin. “Done.”

  As soon as the company disappeared into the trees, I turned back to face the fortress. My destiny. Kicking my steed, I lunged into a gallop, hooves pounding the blazing hot grass. I eyed a Gragorian banner shoveled crooked in the dirt, scorching in flames. It proclaimed the land for Gragore, but now incinerated under the same fires devouring it. Urging my horse near, I dipped, ripping the flag from the ground. Raising the blazing banner, I charged back to the fortress, amber flames slivering over my head. I would take this fortress for my people. For Queen Perseathea. For myself.

  Daughter of a warrior Queen, I rode into vengeance, an Amazon forsaken by my own name… a name I had never known before this quest. But today, I claimed that name. Received it. Honored it. And by blood I would earn it. A bringer of death, I rode on, Hell riding with me.

  "Amazon!"

  I charged to the fortress, flames eating over the banner to whip ashes above my head. My beast frothed, its’ coat glistening with blood and sweat, its’ muscles tensing between my thighs. A storm of fire hailed down, raining flames around me, seducing the fires underfoot. Amazon catapults streaked the blue sky with golden balls of flame, proclaiming my arrival.

  The smell of blood spoiled in the smoky breezes as horses ran the field wild, naying in panic. Cracking bones. Ripping flesh. The clink and clang of steel on steel. This was the land Chaos. Wickedness surged me, and a sensation of immortality rushed in.

  The secret is in death. Fear it not. Live a warrior. Die a warrior. Live on remembered.

  I charged my mustang into the shroud of smoke, galloping over the busted gate and back into the center yard. Turning my steed about, I scrutinized the Amazons clashing with black armor. Blood washed the inner walls as if the fortress itself bled. The stone walls cluttered with combat, people brimming over like ants teeming a rotting carcass. Blue and purple banners toppled from high walls, plummeting to the ground to ruin in flames.

  The Gragorian Army was falling to the Amazons. Raging fires ate away at the fortress, charring over edifices and crashing them to the dirt. I squinted in the smolder of thick smoke, my throat burning with grit. Feeling invincible, I trotted through the mangle of combat, my mustang’s hooves sinking in the gritty mix of mud and carnage. I held my blazing banner erect, declaring my rivalry with Gragore.

  Keeping a vigilant stare, I tread slow, searching the coward. Hunting him. A crash clattered behind me and I spun my mount. The warlord tumbled out from his hiding place, coughing as he batted the soot from his arms. At the sight of him, I became Hate, my soul burning like liquid fire. And our eyes met.

  Knowing well my blood lust, and seeing the fall of his men, Gragore sprinted into a wall of smoke, vanishing. I chased in after him. The fog winded in and out between us, my sight refusing to clear. A fleeting glimpse revealed him to me, shoving past soldiers and Amazons alike, fighting to reach the crowded gate. I stalked after him, my banner tilted like a fiery lance. Glimpses of him came and went, running, shoving, and fighting his way through the crowd. Kicking hard into my steed, I came up behind him, chasing on his heels.

  Unable to make it to the congested gate, Gragore twisted down an alleyway. Pulling hard on my reins, I followed, heading into the tight pathway. Zigzagging, Gragore stayed just a step ahead, bolting down every twist and turn the inner fortress offered, but soon the power of my mustang could not be escaped. The horse frothed, tackling up behind Gragore, and I pulled back, bucking up the steed. Gragore had run himself into a dead end.

  I raised my blazing banner, hurling it like a spear, knocking Gragore square in the chest. The man went down in a flying heap. His greasy hair, along with his garments, lit up with yellow flames. I dropped from my horse, pulling the axe from my saddlebag. Gragore spiraled in the dust beneath me, screeching and howling, batting his charred hands about his smoking head. I kicked him in the gut, tossing him onto his back in the dirt.

  “Roll!” I ordered.

  He went into a series of rolls, at last mashing out the flames. With smoke still rising from him, the flesh on his arm felt hot and gummy to my touch as I hoisted him to his knees.

  “You’re not dying unless it’s by my hand.”

  “You can’t kill me,” he coughed, wheezing. “I’m your father. Your own flesh and blood. I made you.”

  I snorted. “That means nothing to me.”

  “I created you.” He coughed again, somehow still arrogant in even this woun
ded state. He looked up at me. “Like it or not, young Amazon, you are my daughter.”

  He staggered up, wobbling before me, the whites of his eyes peering out from the black ash coating his face. “My daughter.”

  “I am the daughter of the great Queen Perseathea.” I proclaimed, lifting my chin. “I claim nothing of your wretched name or your fallen fortress.”

  “It doesn’t matter what you claim.” He shook his head as if I were a silly child. “Your own Amazon code forbids you from killing me. You will be forever damned by your gods if you take my life.”

  “I’ll take my chances.”

  Without another thought, I slashed the warlord across the face, my blade coming down deep on his cheek, cutting into bone, and tossing him sideways to the dirt.

  He screamed, cupping his cheek as blood ran his fingers. He scrambled back on all fours, pulling against the wall to lift. I came back at him, blade racing, but he dipped, scurrying around. I spun just in time to catch his boot in my teeth.

  I heard the crack inside my head, loud and black. Lips burning, blood filled my mouth. Before I could recover, his other boot swept my feet, dropping me. The warlord wrestled down on top of me, the stink of his burnt flesh choking me, his blood trickling into my eyes. He fought to pin me down, heaving my wrists together, swallowing them up in his grip. Prying the axe from my hand, he stared down on me, his face purple and straining.

  “No one can kill the warlord Gragore. Especially not some little girl.” His cocky grin came back as he plucked the blade from my fingers. “Want to know what an axe to the face feels like?”

  Before I could respond, he ripped his arm up, the blade glinting in the smoke above me. I sprung my knee into his groin, squirming out and moving just as the axe split the dirt where my head had been. Gragore curled up, teeth clenched.