Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar)

by Chris Anne Wolfe

  She glanced overhead. The first of the Twin Moons was just pushing past the hills. With the Mother’s speed, her sister’s rising would find them far to the west.

  † † †

  Elana paused to rest, cautiously setting down her precious Amazon. It felt odd to drink when she was not thirsty and even stranger to methodically stretch muscles that still felt limber and loose. But she was taking no more chances than necessary.

  Above, the sun had just cleared the southeastern hills and begun her long sail across the empty sky. There was still much time, Elana thought gratefully. There would be enough.

  † † †

  The clouds were almost nonexistent. A few were scattered to the far south, seemingly caught on the mountain peaks, but the rest of the skies were clear. It was a harsh, glaring clear that hurt the eyes. It was too cold a sun to warm the wastelands and too bright to bring comfort.

  Elana sipped the water and silently cursed her carelessness. She had lost track in her counting. Patiently, she began again. She had forgotten how many halts she had called; there had not been many. But it was important to wait the allotted time at each rest. There was no place here for carelessness today.

  A lazy circling shadow caught her attention, and she had to concentrate not to immediately reach with her Sight to identify it. There was a limit to the number of things she could do at one time.

  But she watched curiously as the spiral tightened and began to descend. There was a peculiar familiarity to its flight. Elana almost smiled as she recognized the eitteh’s golden body. It registered faintly that she should have been more pleased, but her internal illusion had not been particularly fashioned for reunions — no more than it had been fashioned for counting.

  The eitteh dropped to the ground a few feet away and warily approached, crouching lower with each step. Something was amiss. Her nostrils flared with a faint rumbling as she recognized the scent of failing life. She came closer then, sniffing Di’nay’s still figure. The scruff of her neck ruffled and she stepped back, shaking her head.

  Elana smiled grimly. So much for encouragement.

  The animal turned to her, its emerald gaze narrowing.

  Elana wondered briefly what the creature saw. But the thought was too close to testing the illusion, and hurriedly she dropped it.

  The eitteh’s purr rasped almost tenderly. Then the golden tail swished and it rose. With a parting snarl it trotted off, unfolding its finely furred wings. It caught the upward draft easily.

  Elana was tempted to watch its majestic ascent, but time beckoned. She turned to lift Di’nay’s limp form, wondering what obscure reasons had sent the eitteh around the mountain range and searching for them. The sun pushed higher; she doubted she would ever know.

  † † †

  Mid-day approached and Elana heeded the stumbling step her feet produced. Her body felt no different from last night’s beginning; but she noticed that her footing was less reliable now. It meant nothing, she promised herself harshly, shifting Di’nay’s weight across her hips again.

  They couldn’t afford for it to mean anything.

  † † †

  The green of Melysa’s sheltering oasis grew steadily larger as the leagues passed, and Elana fought the illusion’s arrogance to hurry her steps. She hoped she was not far from the healer’s cellar, but distances were deceiving in this land.

  Dear Mother give her the patience….

  The prayer distracted her and the sand snatched at her toes; she went down to her knees with a startled cry. She concentrated, tightening her loosened hold about Di’nay’s body. If she set her lover down here, Elana did not think she could pick her up again. The brief thought that she should leave and return with help was discarded. Di’nay had been locked to her mind for too long now; the unmingling would take time — and that they could not risk. Carefully she planted a foot, gathering her concentration to push up and stand again.

  The braying whine of a burro broke the silence of the desolate plain. A second answered.

  Elana’s head snapped up, barely remembering not to search too distantly, but the animals were near. And not just them.

  The breeze blew the loosened hair into her eyes, but it didn’t matter. What she saw was no mirage.

  Wispy sounds of a voice matter-of-factly urging on the harnessed burros was carried along on the stirring wind. A rickety creak heralded the two-wheeled cart.

  Elana laughed weakly with joy. The tattered illusion of her selfimage slipped from her to settle in Di’nay’s faint consciousness. Gingerly she lowered Di’nay to the ground and laughed again — at her exhaustion, at her success — at the Mother’s blessings that had sent the healer out in search of them.

  † † †

  Chapter Eight

  There was a bone rattling rumble vibrating through her weakened frame. Diana blinked fuzzily and forced her eyes to focus. An insolent emerald stare greeted her. She realized that the vibrations were the eitteh’s purr; the creature was draped across her hips. Perhaps she should be just a little afraid, but that was too difficult to think about, and her eyes slipped shut again.

  “Di’nay?” The soft voice reached to her over the purring, a warm tone that she thought she knew from somewhere. “Diana…?”

  She opened her eyes again, to a welcoming blink from the eitteh. Its golden ears flicked back, and it turned, directing her to look to the side.

  Elana smiled tenderly. She did not look well, Diana thought with muddled concern. Her face had an unhealthy tinge, and bruises edged her sapphire eyes. But she was smiling, and she was beautiful. Diana’s eyes closed, and she remembered what had happened. The worst was over. “Was your healer…,” Diana paused to swallow, “…surprised to see us?”

  “No.” Elana’s fingers brushed across Di’nay’s forehead. “It seems she was expecting us. Our eitteh brought her out to find us.”

  “Did she…?” Diana tried to to touch the cat’s head, but the effort was too much.

  “Are you thirsty?”

  “Sae….”

  Elana sat next to her, lifting her shoulders and supporting her head. The water tasted good — clean, and Diana drank thankfully.

  “So she has returned to us.” An aged woman padded to the bedside. Her worn robes were striped with the brown and grays of desert dwellers. She threw back her hood to expose her thinning, silver hair that tousled and strayed from its knot. Diana smiled. It reminded her of Elana’s unruly wisps. “Greetings, young warrior.” A cool grasp took her wrist and felt for her pulse. “It seems you are destined to live.”

  Diana did not feel destined to anything at the moment. She certainly did not feel young, although she felt battered enough for any battle-tried soldier.

  “Di’nay, this is Melysa, mistress of this healer’s cellar.”

  This was the woman who had saved her. Diana met the kindly gaze. “I am grateful, Mistress.” Her words sounded so faint in comparison with the deed.

  A compassionate chuckle and a warm pat on her hand reassured her. Melysa looked at the two of them, obviously proud of their struggle and her success in aiding them. “Save your words. You both have cheated Fates’ death. That is thanks enough for me.”

  “Both…?” Diana’s voice rasped weakly and her eyes sought Elana. “You…?”

  “I’ve been telling her of the soldiers’ attack.” Elana said, avoiding the question. She ran her hand along Di’nay’s forehead soothingly.

  The fear in Diana’s body eased and her eyes fluttered, finally closing. She had not just dreamed of Elana’s arms holding her, carrying her so far… and again she felt the calm of that blue touch warm her. Diana stirred again. “How long…?”

  “Sleep now,” Elana murmured, stroking Di’nay’s furrowed brow.

  “But — ”

  “Hush.” Fingers smoothed worries into oblivion and Diana drifted after them.

  † † †

  The next time she woke it was to the scent of fresh baking bread and the prospect of fo
od seemed appealing. The soft, worn quilt about her was cozy, and she found herself loath to open her eyes. If she concentrated, she could almost hear the low chant of Oma Hanna’s morning prayers and Terri’s patient voice quieting the children until Oma was done. Her youngest niece would be three now… what had they finally decided to name her? Tanya? Blond-streaked-brown hair, velvet brown eyes… yes, she remembered the last picture Rosa had sent. They called her something different for her honey-tan coloring… Tawney, that was it. The bed shifted gently. It couldn’t be the three-year-old; they were much more rambunctious.

  “I know you are awake,” cool fingers touched her cheek, “but are you hungry?”

  Diana started guiltily, her eyes flying open.

  Elana smiled, “What were you dreaming of? Home?”

  “Yes, Oma Hanna… my grandmother was saying morning prayers.” Diana stared at the contrast of creamy skin and ebony hair; the bruised exhaustion was gone. What would Elana’s child look like? She closed her eyes at the piercing sweetness of that image. “I dreamt of the children I have never seen — might never meet.”

  “You will see them,” Elana returned firmly, and her lips pressed a gentle kiss to Di’nay’s forehead. “I know you will.”

  Elana smiled sadly as Diana reminded her, “You are not future gifted.”

  “And neither are you.”

  Nor do I want to be, Diana thought. She wanted to live with the illusion that this would work out — that Oma Hanna would cherish this special addition and bless their bonds with the words of the ancient Houses. She looked at Elana, her heart in her eyes, and silently pleaded for a life together.

  The small clasp enfolded her hand, squeezing tightly. “I am here.”

  It is when you will not be that I fear, Diana thought but held her tongue. Instead she asked more cheerfully, “Did you offer food?”

  The broth was thin but gentle on her stomach, and the warm bread and honey satisfied her need to chew. Melysa appeared, frowning heavily as Diana asked for more, but she allowed more soup. “You are far too weak to devour a side of meat, young warrior,” she admonished sternly. She settled her sturdy frame down onto a three-legged stool and watched her patient finish the second helping. “Even with your strange anatomy, you are not so hardy that after seven days of fasting you can bite into anything you like.”

  “Seven days?” Diana jerked upright against the headboard, muscles quivering with the sudden movement. “I have been ill for seven whole days?”

  “Eight, if you count the day you were stung,” Elana confirmed quietly.

  “And you are still quite ill,” Melysa pointed out, very aware that the Amazon’s body was providing living, aching proof. “A few meals will not set you right. You will stay here for at least the rest of this ten-day.” Diana opened her mouth to interrupt, but swallowed her words at Melysa’s frown. “Most likely you will need several more. I will not tolerate anybody undoing my good work — especially after such dawdling as you two did getting here!” Melysa pushed her hands into her pockets. “You can not go gallivanting in Maltar’s damp forests if you have pneumonia.”

  Diana’s body did not feel capable of ‘gallivanting’ into the kitchen, let alone a forest. Elana’s hands quickly guided her back into the pillows and under the quilt.

  “You see that?” Melysa got up, waving a crooked finger. “You can’t even tell which way is down without help! You’re certainly not fit to sort out north from south!” Her glare pinned the Amazon to her pillows as Melysa said, “If I have to, I will hide your weapons and hire a local ruffian or two to stand guard…!”

  “No need, Mistress,” Elana said. “She is not going anywhere. I will see to it.”

  “Aye,” Melysa grumbled and half-turned to leave, wondering if Elana was going to be any better at keeping the woman in bed than she’d been about keeping her out of the cucarii nest. She halted at the doorway, her lips pursed anxiously. “Perhaps I should not be leaving you so soon? This other may wait until — ”

  “We will be fine,” Elana assured her, rising to guide Melysa through the curtain.

  Diana watched them go with a sinking feeling. Time was too precious. Her own stupidity and clumsiness had not helped. That hulk never should have thrown her.

  “She speaks truth,” Elana said grimly. “You are not going anywhere today.”

  Diana wearily shook her head. “The time is so short — ”

  “By the Mother’s own hand, Di’nay! You will listen!” Strong hands grabbed the Amazon’s shoulders, and blue flashed as Elana angrily avoided Diana’s gaze. “You were poisoned! You almost died! You don’t know how close you slipped towards Fates’ Cellars. You….” For an instant, she shook Di’nay in frustration. “I am not ready to lose you. Not yet, Diana n’Athena. Not yet!”

  “You’ve not lost me.” Diana said faintly. Her arms enfolded Elana’s shuddering figure, remembering that it was not just her own heart involved. It was not that she was so certain that they both would live to see this mission completed, but she thought so seldom of those dangers. It was her departure from Aggar that her heart feared too well — to the exclusion of all else sometimes. She stroked the curling silk of Elana’s hair and teased hesitantly, “Have I been such an unruly patient?”

  Elana nodded, sitting up and brushing aside a tear. “In truth — yes.” She smiled and said, “You have spent every moment arguing with that Terran Thomas or calling for Cleis to get you out of here. Given your love for Commander Baily, it was often difficult persuading you to stay in bed.”

  Diana grinned wryly. “Cleis usually runs interference for me when he grows too intolerable. Was there some place in particular I seemed to be going?”

  “Home, I imagine.” Elana put a hand to Di’nay’s pale cheek.

  Perhaps, Diana thought, and allowed her eyes to close. More likely a retreat — a few days away with Cleis — to tell her of this woman she had found — a few days tending the fire, sharing tea and philosophy, might preserve her soul. Diana wondered if her friend had returned to the base safely, and if her time at the southern healer’s had been restful. Broken ribs, Stevens had said. More likely another sword’s scar. Well, perhaps this time Cleis would earn her bonus points and think of resigning. That opened some interesting possibilities for the next Amazon pair assigned. It might be worthwhile suggesting that the next two be partners, preferably with a history of joint assignments — perhaps even mates.

  Elana tentatively broke into her thoughts.“Can I get you anything?”

  Diana smiled faintly. “Your company.” Was she really thinking a partnership would have eased the long years on Aggar? Or was she realizing how very much she enjoyed Elana’s part in her life now?

  The younger woman squeezed her hand reassuringly. “I am here.”

  “And a bath,” Diana voiced suddenly. Her body felt sticky and gritty.

  “Are you up to it?”

  Diana stretched her legs experimentally. “Everything seems to work.”

  Her words may have been brash, Diana admitted as she sank into the water in the wooden tub. The hot water eased her shaking muscles, and the faint fragrance of the bath salts enveloped her senses. She could almost feel the layers of grime dissolve — which was good considering she couldn’t imagine gripping, the soapy cloth long enough to use it.

  Elana smiled at her lover’s pleasure and lathered the soap. “Would you like your hair washed?”

  “If you’re offering, I would be eternally grateful.”

  A soft chuckle teased her as Elana’s hands took up the task. “I would be careful of idle promises, Amazon. There are a great many nights in an eternity.”

  “Shea,” Diana retorted without opening an eye.

  Elana’s laughter caught in her throat. She had been almost certain they would never laugh again — let alone touch.

  Diana asked, “What have you been doing for the last ten-day — other than transporting stray Amazons and listening to my dubious opinions on Thomas?”

 
; “Very little else,” Elana said, remembering her struggle to keep Di’nay quiet and beneath the quilts. “I retrieved the packs, and Melysa had some news of Maltar.” She paused to rinse the foam from Di’nay’s hair. “It appears he has not moved his summer court from the Priory yet. There have been a few troops and women ushered west. But there has been no sign of his personal advisors or himself.”

  “I suppose we should be thankful for that.”

  Elana turned from replacing the kettle on the firehearth and knelt down beside the tub. “I have only one thing to thank the Mother for, Di’nay — and it has nothing to do with the Maltar.”

  Diana stared at the pensive young woman before her. Was she truly as old as twenty-five? At that moment, the soft line of her mouth and the smoothness of her skin made her seem far too vulnerable. “No,” Diana murmured, “I have two things to be grateful for.” How long had it been since she’d loved anyone so totally — if ever? Long before setting foot upon this world — much too long.

  “I have news of your base also.” Elana said. She rolled up her sleeves, retrieving the wash rag from the watery depths. “Your satellite has been repaired. You should be able to reach your Commander Baily now.”

  “He’s not my Commander Baily,” Diana reminded her, but she was grinning.

  “I truly don’t think of him as one of dey Sorormin, Di’nay.”

  Diana laughed. “A Sister? I should hope not! Now tell me of the satellite.”

  “Melysa received word by hawk message last eventide. Let me do your back…”

  “A message? From Thomas? Since when has Thomas taken to hawking?”