Shadows of Aggar (Amazons of Aggar)

by Chris Anne Wolfe

  “I have always brought them safe to you!”

  “In truth, you have.” Diana ruffled his hair. She knew the pride he took in fetching her weapons from Mattee’s arms’ hold whenever she had need of them. “This time I will need them brought into the rooms, though — through the back way.”

  “But Father’s rules are — ”

  “You ask him,” Diana interrupted gently, strapping the black scabbard and sword to her waist. “He will be saying yes this one time. It’s very important.”

  “I won’t ask him in front of another.”

  “Good man.” Diana clasped his shoulder and nodded to Elana to join her. “Now remember. Paul here does not understand your words. So be careful.”

  “Aye.”

  “He’ll show you where to bring the gear,” Diana said to Garrison in Common. “Let him take the weapons and try to stay out of sight. We’ll see you at the tavern.”

  Paul nodded mutely and turned back to the unloading.

  “At the inn,” Madt’dan repeated and Diana nodded to him.

  She turned and Elana fell into step, pulling her hood forward to hide her hair and eyes — as any proper mala’ might do. And together they mounted the stairs for the pier top.

  † † †

  Chapter Nine

  She was amazed that she had never recognized the place as Gronday. After more than two tenmoons of images and dreams, Elana found the sprawling, two-story inn with its thatched roof as familiar to her as the Council’s Keep. She smiled as Di’nay stooped beneath the low canopy of the door; Di’nay’s Gronday home had become almost that to her too — home.

  Inside, the commons opened off the foyer, the large tavern crowded with afternoon patrons. It was winter and trading had slackened off for the season. Days were growing too short and the weather too nasty for safe portage, so the winter habits of Gronday’s residents had begun to set in. Every commons in the city would be comfortably filled by mid-afternoon now, and Mattee’s inn was no different.

  The smells of fresh bread and stew drifted through pipe smoke. Loud and cheerful, the folk were scattered about the long, worn tables. A pair of tavern maids, bare-footed and dressed in black skirts with colorful petticoats, wove their way in and out of the crowd with their trays of mead and meats. There was a huge fire blazing at the far end of the room, and Elana guessed the kitchen’s bread ovens were behind the wall.

  A movement — a piece of forest green disappearing through the kitchen hallway caught her attention. Startled, Elana snatched at her Sight. She dared not reach out to follow the fellow.

  “Fates’ Cellars, where’s Mattee now?” The Amazon’s mutter barely nudged its way into her awareness as Elana still searched the commons, her reply only half-conscious. “Back in the King’s Seat, Di’nay.”

  “Truth, he would be this time of day.” Diana strode down the short hall to the smaller pub. The King’s Seat was reserved for the more elite guests.

  There — by the amarin — Elana identified the vacated table near the fire. The two corner seats had been emptied. A single, broad-shouldered male sat hunched over his stein; Terran, she grasped quickly — although his sword-callused hands attested to a long acquaintance with this world. She pulled back, realizing her Sight was more focused than she wished. This inn was too open to safely chance that here.

  His gaze casually roamed over her, half-hidden by the door post as she was, and then moved on. But he had seen her; it had probably been Di’nay’s entrance that had sent his companions off to the back. She was relieved to know they were here, but also sad, realizing that their mission’s end was indeed near.

  A suggestive, lurid glance from a nearer patron registered. Hastily Elana stepped further back into the foyer, thought her response bothered her — not because her actions were suspicious, but because of how anxious she felt. No matter how much healing Di’nay and the lifestones guided, she was never going to react quite the same way to the intimidating behavior of a man.

  Another amarin drew her attention, and Elana half-turned. Beyond the stair well, Di’nay stood staring at her with a brooding frown. It was as if she had never really seen Elana before; and disconcerted, Elana looked down. Her plain, belted tunic hung over the top of the calf-length skirt. Her boots were laced high, although the knots were hidden beneath the folds of the skirt. Her cloak was open, covering her hair below her nape. She wore nothing, in fact, that Di’nay had not seen her wear before, and questioningly she raised her eyes to the Amazon.

  Di’nay shifted abruptly and turned, hand on her sword’s hilt as Mattee emerged from the King’s Seat. But Elana could not forget that disturbing scrutiny, and her fingers curled around the edges of her cloak. She wished she could risk deciphering those scowling amarin, though she doubted if it would help. When something was puzzling Di’nay, there was little to be learned from her amarin save that she was confused. Elana would simply have to wait until she could ask.

  Diana unbelted her sword as she and Mattee spoke, with a casualness that Elana did not believe. At the entrance to the commons room she passed the weapon to the innkeeper. House rules in most of Gronday’s taverns demanded that anything larger than a hunting knife be surrendered to the proprietor before service was rendered.

  “Aye, Tad Leist is ’round here someplace, waiting for you,” the burly man rumbled, and in a matter-of-fact fashion he greeted Elana with a nod. He had been raised with ‘Southerners’ such as Di’nay and their strange ways; so he gave it little thought that Di’nay would count this mala’ as an almost full personage.

  Diana drew her cape off slowly, careful not to shed water on her landlord. “Madt’dan said others have come as well?”

  “Aye. All the regulars are here. Save the one — the scrawny, jumpy fella.”

  Diana nodded. Cedros, or Tad Ceders as he was locally known, was a naturally dusky-skinned Terran. The man had found the transition into Aggar more volatile than most, since the men of Aggar had always assumed his darker coloring was due to an excitable temper.

  “So my boy did meet up with you?” Mattee was moving Di’nay toward the staircase. Elana thought this conversation rather odd given the tension between the two.

  “He brings equipment and my manservant.”

  An eyebrow lifted. Neither Di’nay nor any of the Southerner’s predecessors had ever had a man in their service. But a raised brow was as startled as Mattee would ever show. “Could put your fellow next to your quarters, in with your Southways men if they don’t mind sharing with servants? Tad Leist is already staying in with you, as usual. I assume this one here will too?“

  “That sounds fine.” Diana mounted the stairs, her damp cloak brushing past Mattee’s hulking frame.

  “I’ll send your man up when he’s in.”

  Elana realized the innkeeper had just slid the long sword back into Di’nay’s grasp. Her cloak had swallowed the black scabbard immediately.

  An interesting arrangement, Elana thought as she hurried after Di’nay. Loyalty and absolutely no show of curiosity. It was clear that the generations of Amazons housed by Mattee’s family had become more than mere boarders.

  Upstairs, the dark paneled hall was gloomy. The fact that there were only two windowed alcoves in the whole length of the corridor did not help either, given the day’s cloudiness. But the wood had a a well-oiled shine, and Elana breathed in the ancient strength, smiling. How many times had she watched Di’nay walk down this passage? The wood-slatted doors were not of the best fit, although they too were oiled and shiny. Elana remembered that last midnight vision with the torchlight squeezing through those boards. Again she felt the warmth of a homecoming.

  Then, suddenly, she grasped Di’nay’s hand before it touched the doorbolt. Today something else was visible through the cracks. Her Sight bristled at the faint amarin of another’s presence beyond.

  For a moment, Diana hesitated. With a decisive movement she threw back her cloak, freeing the scabbard, but she did not draw her sword. Although experience
taught her to be cautious, she suspected she already knew who awaited them. She pushed the door open as a slender figure rose from tending the fire. With a lazy grin their guest turned, and Diana laughed softly as the woman teased, “Surprised?”

  Diana shook her head, slipping easily into their cherished Sororian, “You are one of the more pleasant moments of this journey.”

  Cleis winced. “Then it has been a very long trip for you.”

  “It has been, my friend.” Diana grabbed Cleis in a strong but careful hug.

  “You’re getting me wet,” Cleis grumbled, disentangling herself long enough to toss the damp cloak and scabbard aside. Then with deep sigh, she pulled her friend near again. They parted as Elana shut the door, tears in their eyes as they stood with hands clasped, staring at each other.

  “How mend your ribs, Daughter of Mothers?” Diana asked tenderly, swearing the younger Amazon to honesty as she did.

  “Well enough to help you home. I can’t tell you how worried I’ve been. I was expecting you day before yesterday.”

  “You always did underestimate travel time.” The jest was a gentle one.

  “Is this Elana?” Cleis asked, returning to the local dialect with a warmth in her voice that made her simple words a genuine welcome.

  Elana peeled off her wet cloak and shook her hair free. Diana smiled, answering her friend, “Yes. Elana, Shadow of Council and Keep — my Sister, Cleis n’Athena.”

  “Shadow?” Cleis asked curiously as she grasped Elana’s hands.

  “Guide,” Elana supplied, amused at herself for finding this woman to be young.

  With a shock, Cleis suddenly realized how striking this woman was. Certainly by none of Aggar’s standards was she a voluptuous beauty, but the subtle strength of her stance and the confidence of her returning scrutiny — these would lure any Sister to a second glance. The dark, swirling cloak of her hair was drawn back from an ivory-skinned face, and the startling ice blue of her eyes was dynamic.

  Cleis’ eyes narrowed faintly. Yes, undeniably blue — she had almost changed that description in her report to n’Sappho.

  “Blue is rather rare here,” Elana said quietly.

  Cleis blushed, embarrassed at her staring. “I beg your patience — ”

  “I find no grudge,” Elana assured her, adding to herself that she had been as guilty of staring as Cleis — perhaps more so as her gaze had been in feigned casualness. She liked this Amazon.

  “Is there a chance that we can risk spending the night here?” Diana asked.

  Cleis shrugged. “You must tell me. I sent Cedros scouting in Colmar, but he hasn’t radioed anything back. He ought to be coming in himself late tonight, so I’d suggest waiting until then at least.”

  Elana felt the stab of pain that shot through Cleis as she settled on the hearth. “I admit,” Cleis continued, “that I don’t believe the official report that he offended the Maltar. What has this fellow Garrison done to warrant such a persistent chase?”

  Di’nay pulled a chair away from the center table and joined Cleis by the fire.

  Elana ruefully noted how hot the room was becoming. She bent over Di’nay’s shoulder then to softly ask, “May I open the window? You’ve spoiled me with all the open air camping — ”

  “Oh no — a true wanderer!” Cleis moaned, but she was grinning too.

  Elana caught the chilled shivers of both Amazons, and she smiled reassuringly. “I promise it will be only a very little bit.”

  “You will be sitting in the corner furthest from the fire and us,” Diana protested, amazed at the cheerful camaraderie that was developing between her two friends. “No, open it as much as you like and come back to be comfortable.”

  “Comfortable? In this heat?” Elana’s brow raised in skepticism.

  While Elana opened the window Cleis asked, “Soroe…? The ‘official story’… is there any more to it?”

  Diana frowned. “Only generally. This Maltar is a nasty sort — ”

  “He is not wholly sane,” Elana said quietly, settling herself on a footstool.

  Cleis said somberly, “He’d see Garrison dead rather than with us and the Council?”

  “Yes.”

  Cleis prodded, “Records aside, may I ask for the unofficial version?”

  Diana drew a tired breath. “I am sure you understand that it is best for all if this does not go beyond this room.”

  Cleis nodded.

  “Garrison is a tech engineer; under his supervision — or rather beyond his conscious control — he revamped some of the old imperial relics for the Maltar.”

  “How effectively?”

  “An operational laser field.”

  Cleis shook her head. “Whew — not good. Do they know he’s Terran?”

  Elana said, “They think he is a Council spy.”

  “Well, small favors are blessings too.”

  Diana agreed. “They need him to repair the mess we left — and are desperate to prevent the Council from getting him.”

  “If they don’t know he is Terran why aren’t they assuming he’s just one of many talented Council folk? Why pursue him as if he’s a one-and-only?”

  Fair enough question, Diana admitted to herself, and warily she looked at Elana. She did not want to share anything that her lover might find uncomfortable. And the Council had entrusted her with the Seers’ secrets.

  The silence stretched and Cleis too turned to the younger woman. This was something, she realized, that she might not be told.

  “I am the other reason for their pursuit,” Elana said finally, and it was a moment before she continued. “They were… dealing deviously with the Council of Ten. I — stumbled — onto their secret. They do not know that word has already been sent ahead to the Keep. They hope to stop us before the Council is informed. They know what both Garrison and I look like. We’re not certain, but we hope they do not know of Di’nay’s existence.”

  “Certainly they expect you to have found a hawker by now?” Cleis pressed.

  “They would have been watching the usual roosts, and they have not seen us near any of them,” Diana explained in a low, cautious tone. Silently she added a prayer for the eitteh’s safety.

  “Word was not sent by bird then?” Cleis read the reticence in Diana’s dark gaze, but she probed, “The hawker’s earlier message to Thomas said your radio was dead. I was back at the base, and the ‘official story’ on your transmitter is…?”

  “Broken in transit. Not dead,” Diana answered. “We used the descrambler in sabotaging the laser equipment. My channels were set for here.”

  “That means you were incredibly lucky and someone at the base caught your signal or….”

  “No, the Council has the means to read radio signals,” Elana said, ready to trust this new Amazon. Cleis nodded.

  Then Elana watched them talk. So very much alike and yet not. Cleis n’Athena was warm and open, as unassuming as she was vibrantly alive. Her ribs forced her to be still, Elana realized. This woman was usually much more animated. Exhaustingly so, Elana granted, amused. If she had found Di’nay’s amarin demanding, she shuddered to think how fatiguing this woman would have been on a more intimate basis. But as an acquaintance… as a friend, she was quite appealing.

  No, attractive was a better word. Cleis was strong and attractive in that strength. Perhaps that was why she and Di’nay seemed so alike. But the wistful romanticism in Di’nay was not in the younger Amazon’s character. Impatience… perhaps some margin of innocence, but there was no cynical overcloak to hide disillusionment here… no romantic soul to be nurtured and fired from within. Her gaze came back to her lover, and Elana smiled to herself. The protective cynicism was less a part of Di’nay now, and she found that pleased her.

  Elana heard, “…at least, she has been known to,” and started at Di’nay’s teasing. She blushed a faint brown and automatically responded in the Sororian that Di’nay had been using, “Sorry, I was drifting.”

  Cleis leaned forward in her de
fense. “Don’t be. You’re doing just fine.”

  Elana laughed at that. “Am I?”

  “I was just warning Cleis not to assume too much.” Diana’s gentle auras reached around Elana like a warm cloak. “She slipped into Sororian and I was telling her you follow it quite well — usually.”

  “Only when I listen,” Elana amended, still smiling.

  There was suddenly a tense undercurrent running between the other two women, and silence descended. Elana realized that Cleis was waiting, expecting something, and that Di’nay was unprepared for a discussion.

  Deliberately redirecting them, Elana asked, “Would anyone be insulted if I suggested food? It has been rather a long while since we ate properly.”

  Diana was startled to find her stomach so empty. A peal of laughter rang from Cleis. “Let me guess,” the younger Amazon teased, “you forgot mid-day?”

  “We didn’t do so very well for breakfast either,” Elana retorted dryly.

  “Would you join us?” Diana asked Cleis, feeling a stab of guilt.

  “No, thanks just the same.” Stiffly she pushed herself up from the hearthstones. “I’m well enough fed, and I need to follow up with Stevens. I sent him out the back way to find Madt’dan and Garrison — purely a precaution.” She nodded at the wardrobe and cupboards against the far wall. “There’s fresh bread and cheese in your larder, if you like. Or I can have Mattee send up something more substantial?”

  “Anything he has,” Diana agreed eagerly, and Cleis chuckled. She knew her friend’s eating habits only too well. Diana said.“Make it enough for three. Garrison will need something too.”

  “All right — oh, I took the liberty of asking the Min to send up a hot bath.”

  Elana brightened with delight, and Cleis grinned again. “Good, I didn’t mean to organize things too much.”

  “Rarely.” Diana caught Cleis’ hand as the woman passed her, causing her to pause for a moment. “Thank you for coming.”