Tristaine Rises

by Cate Culpepper

  “You’re going to cook?” Samantha asked.

  Brenna saw her and Jess exchange dismayed looks.

  “I’m going to heat up that stew Aria made for us,” Brenna corrected, leading them into the trees toward their lodge. “And if there are any more comments on my cooking prowess, I will put both of you in a stew to prove myself.”

  Chapter Seven

  Vicar and Hakan carried their queen, seated on their crossed wrists, from the healing lodge to the village square. Shann was displeased, but managed to maintain her regal posture. No easy task, while being bodily handled by two Amazon warriors, however carefully. “It’s never too late to introduce state executions, Jesstin.”

  “An idle threat, lady.” Jess clasped Brenna’s hand as they walked down the torchlit path. “You need me to housebreak those two barbarians carting you around.”

  “I do not require carting.”

  “You’re still pale, Shann.” Brenna threw a sympathetic look over her shoulder. “When you stop looking like cottage cheese in a crown, I’ll let you cart yourself.”

  “Time was,” Hakan drawled to Vicar, “many a wench in Tristaine would give their hallowed hymens to perch where our lady now rides. How low we studly have fallen, adanin.”

  “Speak for yourself, horse breath,” Vicar muttered. “They still line up for me.”

  “I intended no offense to my brawny escorts.” Shann draped her arms around their necks, regal even seated on a human throne. “Samantha?”

  Sammy walked at the edge of their group, her eyes downcast. She looked surprised Shann remembered her name. “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Little sister, you might have many questions after this evening’s council. Sleep on them, then seek me out tomorrow, and we’ll have a nice talk.”

  Brenna smiled and felt Jess squeeze her hand. They were both remembering a similar invitation extended long ago by Tristaine’s queen to another scared exile from the City. The “nice talks” Brenna shared with Shann had been lengthy and far-ranging, and had founded her knowledge of her new clan.

  “Thanks, your…majesty.” Sammy paused when Vicar snickered, and Shann rapped her smartly on the head. “I already have lots of questions.”

  I hope we’ll have answers , Brenna thought as they entered the center of the village.

  They walked into the breathing essence of Tristaine, rows upon rows of Amazons crowded into the circular clearing, awaiting their queen. The odd stillness in the midst of a gathering of nearly six hundred women struck Brenna immediately. In spite of the circumstances, Brenna felt a pleasant déjà vu as she watched Sammy absorb her first real look at her new family. Her sister’s slack-jawed wonder resonated with her own memories of meeting these women, of all colors and ages, living for one purpose—to preserve the freedom and rich cultural heritage granted them by a benevolent goddess.

  The square was softly illuminated by dozens of torches, and they paused in the shadows outside the reach of their golden light.

  “Put me down.”

  It was not a request, and Vicar and Hakan obeyed at once, lowering Shann with care and supporting her as she stood erect between them.

  “Brenna, you and Samantha stand within my sight, please.” Shann smoothed her robe with her hands, breathing deeply. “Jesstin, be ready with our clan’s sacred weapon.”

  Without further comment, the queen walked toward the light of the square. Jess nudged Brenna, who caught Sammy’s hand and guided her quickly into the rows of seated Amazons. She saw Kyla’s wave, and they joined her and Dana near the front of the assembly.

  Shann emerged into the light, and the troubled silence that held the square lifted as a stir moved through the clan. Several voices called to her, and Brenna felt Sammy jerk in surprise as a musical ululation rose in waves around them, a spontaneous chorus of relief and greeting.

  The queen returned their homage with a fond smile as she reached the center of the gathering and stood waiting for silence, her hands clasped behind her. It was a rather long wait, and Brenna watched Shann with something like wonder. It seemed impossible this woman had been all but comatose twenty hours ago. Her posture was relaxed, her shoulders squared, with no hint of either tension or weakness. She studied her women with alert warmth, as if she were memorizing each face.

  Brenna folded her arms against the cold, uneasily aware of the stone altar behind Shann and to her left. She noted Jess had posted Hakan and Vicar between the queen and that sinister block, and she was grateful for her lover’s protective instinct.

  “Tristaine summons all her power tonight, adanin.” Shann finally had to speak to silence the last of the ovation. “See our strength in the faces of the women beside you, and feel it in the warmth of our numbers. No force on this planet can sever the bond that unites our clan.”

  Shann spoke the words as simple and essential truth, and Brenna felt them deep in her gut. The square was silent now, intent on the slender figure at its center.

  “Amazons have long shed dear blood to preserve the lands they called home. Our refuge in these high mountains has already cost Tristaine a strong and valiant heart. Sirius stands tonight with Kimba in the immortal guild of our clan’s lost warriors.”

  An almost soundless sigh passed over the gathering, its sibilance whispering Sirius’s name.

  Samantha tugged Brenna’s sleeve. “Who’s Kimba?” she asked softly.

  Dana answered, still riveted on Shann. “One of the Seven Sisters, the founders of Tristaine. She started our guild. She’s like our alpha warrior.”

  Brenna and Kyla exchanged startled glances behind Dana’s back, and Kyla gave her shoulder an approving pat.

  “All we know of our enemy now is this,” Shann continued. “Its power lies beyond the scope of our mortal plane. In order to fight it we look for passages between worlds—”

  “Lady.” A thin figure rose from the ranks of the seated Amazons, and an uneasy murmur went through them. A few hisses of disapproval were heard. Speaking during a full clan council was welcome, but never during the queen’s address, and interrupting Shann outright was all but unheard of. Brenna craned her neck to see Wedan, one of the guild of weavers, a spare and fierce woman known for her strong will.

  “I’ve seen Sirius, what’s left of her.” Wedan’s tone was respectful, but her eyes on Shann were flinty. “No mere specter did that much damage. Why are we off chasing ghosts when Artemis knows Tristaine has enough enemies of flesh and blood? Why aren’t our warriors scouting beyond this mesa, hunting down our prey instead of huddling here, waiting for them to come to us?”

  “Wedan, your fat mouth runs away with your manners.” Sarah rose from her stool stiffly, glowering at the other woman. “Close your yap and let our lady speak.”

  “Thank you, grandmother, for your most courtly defense.” Shann smiled, and Brenna felt the tension in the women around her ease a notch. “Our sister Wedan has voiced doubts that might be shared by others among us. I offer any such concern this assurance.”

  Her eyes sought out Jess, who stood in the shadows. She walked into the light of the square, carrying an object draped in black silk balanced in her hands.

  “We take our stand on this mesa, sisters, because the force that threatens us is here.” Shann’s voice rang through the square. “Before the sun rises, we’ll know more about the corporeal nature of our adversary. But the blood sacrifice of Sirius has already taught us our enemy can take lethal form. Our warriors are stationed exactly where we need them, should this come to a worldly battle.”

  “Why don’t we all just leave this place?” Samantha whispered to Brenna. “If the mesa’s so dangerous—”

  “Winter’s coming, Sammy.” Brenna looked up into the star-studded sky. Heavy cloud cover would block out their light before many weeks passed. “Imagine trying to find shelter for all these women and kids in a blizzard.”

  “We drowned our last village, Samantha, to keep it out of an enemy’s hands.” Kyla hesitated, and Brenna knew she was remembering
the deep mountain lake that cloistered Camryn’s bones. “We won’t lose this one without a fight.”

  Jess reached Shann and extended the silk-shrouded form toward her. The muscles in her forearms stood out clearly, telling Brenna how heavy this object was. Shann lifted the silk covering in one graceful motion and draped it over Jess’s arm. Another sigh moved through the Amazons as they saw the ebony labrys balanced in Jess’s hands.

  “Dyan,” Kyla whispered. “That was hers. A gift from the guild of warriors when she took their command.” Brenna saw Dana take Kyla’s hand, and Kyla allowed her to keep it.

  Jess’s lips moved, but Brenna couldn’t hear what she said to Shann, who replied briefly, then wrapped her hands around the two-headed axe and lifted it with apparent ease. Shann turned and stepped closer to the women watching her, the torchlight striking off the wickedly honed curved blades. Her knuckles were white around the short-handled hilt, but Brenna could read no other sign of strain in her carriage.

  “Amazons are not known for coddling bullies.” Shann’s smile had changed. It held steel now. It was almost predatory, and Brenna remembered this was a queen of warrior women and a seasoned fighter herself. “In the end, that’s all our enemy is. It hides behind cheap spells and sneak attacks. And if it dreams to find Tristaine an easy conquest, we will offer it a grim awakening.”

  Shann turned and carried the labrys toward the altar. Vicar threw Jess a questioning glance, but stepped aside to let her move behind the sinister stone. Both Dana and Kyla half-rose in alarm, but Brenna gripped Dana’s arm and pulled her down.

  You and Samantha stand within my sight. Brenna heard Shann’s words whisper through her mind again, and she grasped Sammy’s hand and rose, taking her sister with her. Sammy squeaked in surprise, and Brenna shook her head slightly, her eyes on Shann.

  Shann held the ebony labrys inches above the altar’s surface and searched the sea of Amazons until she found Brenna. Their gaze held for a long moment, and then Shann lowered the rugged axe to the stone. The curved blades rang against the rock, a startlingly loud sound given the gentleness of their contact.

  A shiver went through Brenna, but the altar offered no other outwardly dramatic effects. Shann laid her hands on the leather-wrapped hilt and waited until she and Sammy were seated.

  “Adanin, we have learned this pedestal serves as a portal between worlds of the spirit.” Shann brushed one hand over the glyph-marked surface of the altar. “And we have the means to open the passage connecting these worlds. Our clan’s seer was gifted with a vision of a sacred plant. This night, the tea made from those blessed leaves will send our sister on a quest into the eternal.”

  Brenna felt the color rise in her face as the gaze of hundreds of women turned her way.

  Sammy stared at her with frank wonder. “You’re going where?” Samantha whispered.

  “On a quest into the eternal,” Brenna sighed. “Pay attention, Sam.”

  “We believe a benevolent spirit waits beyond this life to guide Tristaine’s prophet.” Shann looked down at the labrys, and the corner of her lips lifted in a private smile. “When the sun rises, sisters, I assure you, we’ll be wiser in the ways of our enemy.”

  The tiers of women sat in silence, absorbing the words of their queen.

  “We stand at full vigilance, adanin.” Shann left the altar, and as she moved closer, Brenna noted the fine trembling in her arms. “Our warriors are well armed and primed for any physical battle. Tomorrow’s rising of the Thesmophorian moon tells us events may begin to unfold more rapidly now. And we couldn’t have chosen a more powerful and portentous hour to defend our clan.”

  Brenna started as Jess settled cross-legged beside her, her arrival as welcome as it had been silent. Her long fingers folded around Brenna’s cold ones.

  “This moon shines for three nights every year in celebration of the harvest,” Shann continued, “and in honor of the sacred trust bonding mothers and daughters. These nights have long quickened Amazon blood and heightened the spiritual energies of our clan. Tristaine usually celebrates this festival with races, dances, and feasts.”

  “And serial ravishings,” Aria called helpfully. This time the interruption was met with hoots of approval and lecherous nudges.

  The feeling in the square was changing. Brenna sensed a new spirit growing among them. Shann’s relaxed but commanding presence, and the revelation of Dyan’s labrys, were empowering their clan.

  “Yes, serial ravishings for the more wanton among us.” Shann laughed. “But this year our revelry, carnal and otherwise, must wait. The rising of this autumn’s moon finds the daughters of Artemis bracing for battle. The festivities will wait for the certain celebration of Tristaine’s victory.”

  Shann paused as Jess let out a sharp war cry, echoed immediately by Vicar and Hakan and several others in the crowd. Brenna cocked an eyebrow at Sammy and grinned like a bandit. This was beginning to feel like a gathering of the fierce Amazons she knew and loved.

  “However,” Shann threw Jess a look of amused reproof, “before we close tonight’s council, we’ll still honor Mother Demeter’s grief for her kidnapped daughter. I call upon Kyla, daughter of Viviane, to sing our Challenge.”

  Brenna drew in a quick breath. She and Jess both turned to Kyla, who was paling rapidly. Revered for one of the most beautiful singing voices ever to grace Tristaine, Kyla hadn’t sung a note since Camryn’s death. She obviously hadn’t expected to be asked to do so tonight.

  Shann returned her stunned look with serene patience.

  Kyla’s lips parted, but no words of protest emerged. The youngest daughter of Viviane was many things, Brenna thought, and a widow was only one of them. Above all she was an Amazon of Tristaine, and she did not refuse her queen. Kyla started to stand up, but her knees gave out, and she sat back down with a thump.

  “I really want to hear this, Ky.” Dana still held Kyla’s hand, and Brenna heard a mature tenderness in her voice. “Shann’s told me how much Dyan loved to hear you sing. Come on. We’ll be right here.” Dana pressed her fingers.

  Kyla looked up at her, then turned to Brenna and Jess. Apparently finding what she needed in their faces, she rose to her feet, and a glad murmur rippled through the crowd as she met Shann at the center of the circle.

  Shann took Kyla’s hand in both of her own, spoke to her quietly, then smiled with loving pride and rested her lips against her pale forehead. Shann retreated to one side of the square and sat on a low stool with a shaking sigh.

  Kyla faced them, her eyes downcast, and cleared her throat twice. The square was hushed, but with a different silence than the one Brenna had noted at the opening of this council. This stillness held no tension. It was filled with encouragement and warmth.

  Kyla’s shoulders lifted with a deep breath, and a first tentative, thready note left her lips. It drifted and faded in the chill air and was followed by another. Stronger this time, richer in melody, and then a third. Brenna felt Sammy straighten beside her and remembered how her sister relished music in all its forms.

  Kyla sang, and Brenna closed her eyes as the poignant message of the Challenge spilled like gems from her lips. She remembered the last time she had heard Dyan’s blood sister sing this chant, one of Brenna’s first nights in Tristaine. She heard Jess’s low voice again in her mind, interpreting the language of the old Amazons as she sat curled in her arms.

  “Wow,” Sammy whispered. She seemed spellbound by the rising beauty of Kyla’s voice, soaring now to fill the square with resonant sound. Brenna watched Sam’s face grow younger as she listened, grief fading from her features like the passing of a fitful dream. She leaned closer to her.

  “The Mothers of Tristaine charge their daughters to protect and cherish each other.” Brenna recalled Jess’s translation of the lyrical, difficult tongue. “Our clan travels toward the dark night of winter. Only our shared passion can sustain us until spring’s warmth returns.”

  Kyla’s eyes closed, and her voice spiraled through a ser
ies of melancholy notes. Her tone was deeper and richer than her delicate size seemed capable of producing, and her audience listened with rapt pleasure.

  A small wooden box appeared in Brenna’s lap. She picked it up and studied it curiously, then nudged Jess. “What’s this?” she whispered.

  “A wee offerin’.” Jess was watching Kyla with pride.

  Brenna took off the ornate lid and set it aside, and her breasts lifted with her indrawn breath. Inside the box, nestled on a square of folded satin, lay a slender bracelet of hammered silver. Burnished to a fine sheen, it was inlaid with colorful streaks of onyx, turquoise, malachite, and red jasper.

  “Jesstin,” Brenna murmured. “It’s beautiful.” She lifted the silver band free and fit it around her wrist. The bracelet warmed at the touch of her skin, and its delicate design shimmered in the torchlight.

  “You’ve been with us a full year, adonai.” Jess slid an arm around Brenna’s waist. “You walked into Tristaine for the first time under the light of Demeter’s harvest moon.”

  “It matches this.” Brenna fingered the turquoise pendant that lay in the hollow of Jess’s throat. “Ah, honey. Thank you so much. I love you remembering the night I came to the village.”

  “I’m honoring all the nights since. You’ve changed my life, Brenna.” Jess touched her face. “You’ve given me such happiness. Thank you, adonai.” She lowered her head, and their lips met in a long, brushing caress.

  The complete silence that greeted the last chiming notes of Kyla’s Challenge brought them out of their haze. They sat up as cheers burst around them, and Brenna huffed her damp bangs off her forehead. They joined in Kyla’s warm ovation, rising with their sisters to celebrate this healing.

  Chapter Eight

  The village square seemed hauntingly empty to Brenna now, hours after the last of their sisters had drifted to their home lodges. The assembly had ended on a warm and vibrant note with Kyla’s song, and this midnight stillness felt barren by comparison. The square itself seemed larger, its far reaches cloaked in deep shadows, and the star-swept sky above them was an implacable immensity.