Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar)

by Chris Anne Wolfe

  “Do I…,” Elana moistened her lips nervously, “…do I look like one of you?”

  A soft smile touched Diana’s face. “You would easily pass as one of us. You have a walk of confidence and an inner pride that we seek. You would do well.”

  “Do you think your… your family would like me?”

  Diana paused. Some things hurt when examined too closely. “Perhaps. I don’t think they would dislike you.”

  “You…” Elana hesitated, knowing this question might be sensitive, but she was curious — and she did not understand. “…You don’t have a father, do you?”

  “No,” Diana answered quietly, “no men. My mother does have a mate — Estelle. A very beautiful, sensitive woman with brown skin and black, curling hair.”

  “Like my hair?” Elana felt unexpectedly anxious about the comparison.

  “Not quite. Hers isn’t as long, and the texture is — crisper.” Diana’s eyes grew wistful. It had been a long time since she’d sat in Estelle’s lap, learning to read. “It was graying some last I saw.” Yes, she would be sixty by now.

  “Do you look like her at all?”

  She smiled at that. “No, not at all. I don’t have her genes. My sister, Teresa, looks very much like her though.”

  “Teresa carries her genes?”

  Diana nodded. “Before my mother met Estelle, she was lovers with an Amazon, Jes. They spent several years seeing each other often but never living together. Jes went off-world with the Sisterhood; when she returned Mother had met Estelle.”

  “That’s very sad,” Elana murmured quietly.

  “In truth, no. They were not mated. They never had plans to be. It was several years between Jes’ departure and her return. I seriously doubt if either of them were expecting Mother to wait. I think Teresa was already walking when—”

  Elana stopped her in confusion, asking, “How old were you?”

  Diana laughed. “I wasn’t born yet. Teresa is a season-and-a-half older than I am. Mother and Estelle contributed the genes for her. Jes and Mother made me.”

  “Estelle did not object?” This was one custom Elana would never accept.

  “No.” Diana’s laughter quieted, sensitive again to their differences. “With my people, making love has nothing to do with reproduction, Elana.”

  Not if they were of Terran descent. They would require men if it did.

  “We conceive in one of two ways. A medical procedure — it joins the genetic material from two women and replaces the embryo into the womb of one mother. The other is spontaneous. For whatever reason, a woman’s egg…” Diana stopped. So much for her language fluency. “Well, it fertilizes itself.”

  “Is it common for — for the egg to do that?” Elana was pulling at fuzzy memories of her biology lectures. All she really remembered was being amazed at how much the Council physicians knew compared to most of Aggar.

  “It is becoming more common among the Sisterhood, although I’m told it happens sporadically in some humans. The medical procedure is still the most common. It is reliable and mixes the gene pool well.”

  Elana returned to the subject that really interested her. “Why did your mother decide to have you?”

  Diana bit back an embarrassed grin. “She and Estelle wanted another child and — well, everyone thought I’d be… pretty.”

  Beautiful, don’t you mean? Elana corrected silently. Aloud she offered, “They made a good decision.”

  At that tactful answer Diana laughed, especially when she thought of Rosa and Jasmin angrily vying with her for the adults’ attention. “I’m not so certain of their wisdom. By the time my younger cousins were born, we were quite a handful.”

  “Did they live with you?”

  She nodded. It felt good to remember the family squabbles too. “Oma Hanna is our matriarch. My mother, Kate, is the middle daughter of her three. After joining, all three of her daughters and their mates moved in with Hanna. I think that always surprised Hanna as much as it delighted her. Usually someone moves away, but,” she admitted quietly, “we made a good family.”

  “Did they all have children?” It was sounding very different from her early life and the undivided attention of her two parents.

  “No. My mothers, Kate and Estelle, had the two of us. Martha and Gum Lin had Morgan, Rosa, and Jasmin, but Ivory and Terri never elected to have children. I suspect we were enough to handle, and we were as much Terri’s as anyone’s.”

  “Are you the only Amazon in your family?”

  “No. Terri is — or rather, was. It was her stories of the Amazons and the off-worlders that drew me from home.”

  “She was very important to you.”

  “I believe she taught me how to think — at a younger age than most. It’s saved my life more than once.” Even before leaving home, Diana remembered grimly.

  Elana absorbed that before she said, “Terri is your aunt?”

  “Yes — no. I mean, she’s not my mother’s blood sister.”

  “But your mother, Jes, was an Amazon?”

  “She’s not my mother. I’ve rarely seen her. What are you thinking?”

  Elana shrugged. “It would appear that your Sisters are as genetically predisposed to things as we of Aggar are.”

  Meaning you and I were destined to wander? Diana thought as she felt herself grow cold again, and the aching knot in her stomach returned. She wondered fleetingly if she would be afraid of this young woman in another place at another time.

  † † †

  Chapter Two

  “I’m surprised it’s so big,” Diana commented quietly. She shifted, stiff from the long ride, and her saddle creaked.

  They sat high on a wooded crest in foothills, overlooking a narrow valley and its village. Mountainous in their own right, these southern foothills were an unyielding wilderness, but some of the lowlands between were held by people.

  Black Falls was a cluster of low-roofed buildings and occasional two-tiered cottages that spread the width of the valley, crowding closely against the sheer face of a towering cliff wall to the north. She knew that there was a road rising to pierce that forbidding fortress, but she was at a loss to see it from this distance.

  Her gaze drifted to the shimmering column of silver and white that severed the gray stone — a waterfall that began in the heights of the cliff and fell straight, a thousand feet, to the valley floor. From this distance the great, gaping black hole that swallowed the waters was barely visible, hidden in the shadow of the cliff; the thunderous turmoil rumbled through the ground to be felt even five leagues away.

  “There is the road west to the river port and finally to the north sea road that travels around to the wastelands’ plateau.” Elana pointed left to where the valley followed the foothills around and out of sight. “Cellar’s Gate is the faint trail that leaves the village nearer here.”

  The narrower road Elana called Cellar’s Gate doubled back east along the base of the mountains. Their vantage point did not allow Diana to see where it began to climb. “Is it open, do you think?” It could save them two or three ten-days to cut due north, she knew, depending on where in Maltar’s realm they were going. She sighed; if they took that trail they would have to leave the horses.

  “When we left, the Seers reported that the first of the winter storms had yet to strike. If we were to be caught in a storm, we would be delayed, but we should still make it through — if we weathered it in one of the shelters.”

  They wouldn’t survive if they did not, Diana knew. Discouraged, she looked again to Black Falls. It was a rather large place to search for one secretive hawker. “It looks bigger than Colmar.”

  Elana nodded. “It has less government, more people. Some call it ‘the edge of eternity’ because there is nothing north of here until Maltar’s lands — except for the plateau. Yet the only known ore deposits in the Ramains’ kingdom are in these mountains. There are the salt mines too. In the summer the plateau people, the Changlings, come through the pass to barter f
or weapons and clothes. Then there are also mountain people who come to trade furs and replenish supplies. Always, the King’s men are here — to guard the pass and the mines.”

  “Sounds like the ‘edge of eternity’ is a busy place,” Diana joked dryly.

  Elana looked at her seriously. “I suspect it would be even in the Empire.”

  Point taken. Diana remembered Aggar’s location and the string of events that had brought her to this forested knoll. “So, where is your family?”

  Elana pointed towards the silver column. “Near the base. They house the cooperative that catches and filters a portion of the falls. They use the sand and such for the glass-making, and it’s the town’s chief source of fresh water. It is their glasswares that are traded to the south, sent on the summer caravans with the furs. Actually, it’s because of the traders and because of the King’s soldiers stationed here that you’ll find the village’s dialect is not so very splintered despite the location.”

  “The language is similar to Colmar then?”

  “Yes… it is.”

  “Languages have never been my strong suit,” Diana admitted. “At home we have only one; our Founding Mothers created it. We are too young a culture to have evolved actual dialects yet.” The Amazon shrugged with a shake of her head. “On most Imperial planets I’ve relied on translating devices; they’re so common that it’s never been a problem. But here… here I am often lost.”

  Slowly Elana nodded. “You will have no trouble here, but further on? For once perhaps my talents may compliment your own, Di’nay. I am said to be quite fluent with foreign tongues — another gift of my Sight.”

  “Fluent? Or passable?”

  “Passable as native born. Or so the Seers judge me.”

  Diana felt surprised — again — at this young woman’s abilities. That nagging little voice within sought to remind her just how different Elana might be from others. She shut her mind against the rising uneasiness, and asked, “Do you know the dialect used in Maltar then?”

  “Certainly.” Again that small, self-derisive smile appeared as she said, “A requirement of the job.” Elana shook her self-pity aside. “In Maltar, it is not a dialect. It is another tongue. The language descends from completely different tribes.”

  It would have been odd not to find such a variety, Diana reminded herself.

  Puzzled at Di’nay’s shifting amarin, Elana prodded, “You find it strange that a planet has more than one tongue?”

  “No, I was just thinking of how spoiled I am. There is only one Sororian. We chose to construct a new language to separate ourselves from the prejudices and judgements of the past.”

  “And yet, if they must strive so hard to abandon ancient ways, Di’nay, are not your Sisters still being controlled by those ways?”

  Sadness grew within Diana’s dark eyes. “Yes.” And then a touch of humor gentled the melancholy. “But even butterflies must crawl before they fly.”

  Diana felt the weighty failures of all her off-world years descend upon her again. There was so much left in the universe of the patriarchal ways that her Sisters had struggled to leave behind… Terrans who could not grasp the need to question, let alone the necessity to reject those ancient paths.

  “It is not your Sisters you mourn, I think,” Elana said gently.

  “No.” Diana’s voice was hoarse with unshed tears. “As much as I have often hated them, Elana — those in power on the Terran worlds and their senseless games of control and ruin — I still find myself aching for them in their ignorance… for what they will never know.”

  “For what you cannot heal.”

  Diana frowned and roughly swung her horse around back to the road, scorning herself for that rising pity for Terrans. It was not a compassion she was always fond of acknowledging to herself. She nudged her mount into a quicker step, pushing the thoughts aside and refocusing on more practical matters. “Do we need to announce your presence to the whole village? I understand your parents will be welcoming, but I would rather the village not know you are my Shadow or that either of us come recently from the Council’s Keep.”

  “It would give this hawker we seek a bit of warning. But it shouldn’t be a problem, Di’nay. Many stay with my family when passing through Black Falls if the smithy is tending their weapons. We will simply be two — ”

  “And I do not need a slave. I will not repeat our guise from Colmar.”

  “All right.” Elana twisted in her saddle to pull her cloak and gloves free. “Would you care for comrade-in-arms or for a wife?”

  Her mouth thinned at her heart’s erratic beating. They were not talking about the cherished moments with a mate, Diana reminded herself sternly.

  “My dress is more appropriate to a man.” Di’nay’s coldness struck her.

  Elana tugged on gloves and pulled her hood up. Disappearing into the cloak’s depths, her posture altered slightly to take on more of a slouch. Except for height, Diana reluctantly granted, Elana looked every bit like a weary male traveler. Diana was seeing what she expected to see, and her brown eyes narrowed. The illusion was well-laid; bulk and height had been added. This companion, although built more squarely, was easily her own size.

  Unexpectedly disgruntled, Diana jerked her own hood forward in like style and dug her heels into her horse. There were still five leagues to make before eventide.

  † † †

  They halted before a low building of stone masonry. The side of it stretched back into the alley. Further along the main street, Diana saw the building’s courtyard. Before them two massive wooden doors were flung open. The dull din of the unseen waterfall was intermittently disturbed by the rhythmic ping and bounce of a smithy’s hammer. More than one hammer, Diana recognized as they dismounted. She knotted her reins to the hitching post, studying the dim interior. Three burly, grim-faced men were intent on their projects — their anvils positioned around the sweltering bellows and glowing coal bin. Deep in the distance she glimpsed clay furnaces of a different type, but the glass kilns were shut tight for the night.

  “May we help you gentlemen?”

  Diana was startled at the well-practiced accent of the young man. His dusty hair was neatly parted but hung low into his hazel eyes. He was a handsome lad, clean cut by youth and not by razor. His sleeveless jerkin was belted loosely and the thick muscles of his arms bulged as he rubbed his hands together.

  He grinned a little less comfortably at their silence and gave an anxious half-laugh. “You can see we are preparing to close up with darkfall. But if your need is urgent, we can certainly arrange something?”

  Diana wondered if Elana realized this must be her foster brother, Alonz.

  “The master of this house is available?” Elana dropped her guise for Alonz, the illusion of the male bulk slipping away with the softness of her question, but the hood stayed low; Elana did not intend this fosterbrother to see her face.

  “Well — why yes, certainly.” He waved them to the benches just inside the doors. “If you’ll make yourselves comfortable?”

  “You have another place,” Elana asked him gently. “A garden seat?”

  “This way.” They followed him through the deserted glass workshops and down a small hallway. He opened the narrow door and bowed them through.

  It was a small, pleasant area enclosed by high walls and an arching, frosted glass ceiling. The hanging lanterns had already been lit for the evening. Large potted ferns and small plots of frothy greenery were between the white stone benches. Beige and brown rock were laid in mortar forming the floor and a single, solid tree stood in the center of the court. Its willowy, green-grey tendrils reminded Diana of the tree Elana had once stood beneath at the Keep.

  The young man said, “I could see that your horses are stabled, if you like?”

  Elana’s green hood nodded in assent. He bowed and hurriedly departed.

  “You’re set on keeping him in his place?” Diana asked quietly, shrugging from her wrap. The courtyard was reminiscent
of Imperial solariums.

  “No.” Elana refused the half-teasing bait, tossing her hood back. “He is young — excitable. I don’t know who my parents are with. It didn’t seem appropriate to risk Alonz telling a neighbor or shop hand that I am home.”

  The matter-of-factness of the words did not match their mumbled delivery. For the first time in hours, Diana gave Elana her full attention, watching her nervously slip out of the green cloak. “They will like you.”

  Elana turned, startled. “They what?” She had been concentrating, trying to reach through the wooden doors to feel an approach.

  “They will like you.” Diana tenderly touched her cheek — the pale skin like satin under her fingers. Helpless to stop herself, she slid fingers into the dark, silken hair.

  Elana gave a melting, relieved sigh and covered the gentle hand with her own, pressing her cheek into the open palm. She drank in the warmth and support of her friend. She did not question why the wall had evaporated again. “I didn’t realize,” she whispered hoarsely, “how anxious I would be about this meeting.”

  Diana smiled, feeling more certain of herself in this sisterly role. She drew Elana into a strong hug. “You’re human. You’re allowed to be nervous. Meeting one’s parents after any separation can be a daunting thing.”

  “Even for you with nearly twenty seasons?”

  “Especially at twenty.”

  Elana drew a steadying breath. It felt good to belong with this woman.

  Diana waved a hand around the small court. “How did an Imperial design come to grace a Ramains’ village house?”

  Elana sat down on a center bench. “No, the question is — how did a design of the archipelagoes come to be here in the Ramains? The White Isles have used bleached stone for benches and flower troughs for centuries. They have precious little wood and became creative with their native rock.”

  “I wonder if that’s how it originated on Terra.” She took the bench opposite Elana. “Tell me more about these islands?”

  “They’re east of here beyond the Firecap Mountains — on the other side of the continent — and extend across the Qu’entar Sea. They’re volcanic and….” There was the sound of a door bolt.