Tristaine Rises

by Cate Culpepper

  “I’m able, lady.” Jess drew as deep a breath as her aching sides would allow and pushed herself carefully higher against the cushions behind her. Brenna shifted and slid one arm behind Jess’s neck to support her head. The solid warmth of Jess’s body against her side was a blessed reassurance.

  “Bleeding Hera, Jesstin.” Vicar folded her arms and glared at her cousin. “Care to tell me what made you think you had to take out the entire demon horde single-handed?”

  “Hush, Vicar, keep your voice down.” Kyla was crouching beside Samantha, tucking her cloak around her sleeping form. Sammy was curled on the floor in front of the wide fieldstone fireplace, and Brenna doubted a shrieking banshee would wake her.

  The small cabin Brenna shared with Jess was crowded with women they loved. Dana sat against one wall, watching Kyla with an open longing only exhaustion allowed her to reveal. Shann’s elegant features had aged visibly during the endless night. She rose from the bed and went to Vicar.

  “I promise, adanin, to castigate this rash warrior most harshly. But you’ve seen Jesstin safely home, Vicar. I want you to go get that ankle stitched.”

  “Wai Li can patch me later, Shann.”

  Shann shook her head. “I trust your adonai’s skill with a needle, but go have her patch you now, please. I don’t like your color.”

  “We don’t like yer color, Vic,” Jess echoed. She turned her head stiffly on Brenna’s arm. “Go on, Stumpy. You’re bleeding on my clean floor.”

  “I hear, lady.” Vic scowled and jerked her chin toward Jess. “But if I see this shrimpy dolt out of her blankets before dusk, I’ll flatten her again myself.”

  “I’m there,” Dana offered.

  “Vicar.” Jess’s voice gentled. “My thanks. You risked your neck to save mine a dozen times last night.”

  Vicar shrugged. “Always will.” She nodded to Shann and stepped out of the cabin, letting in a brief flood of sunlight. Heavy curtains cast the small room in shadow, illuminated now only by the fire crackling in the hearth.

  “Here, Shann. Lady.” Dana unwound from her seat on the floor and carried a heavy chair to the side of the bed. “You look a bit wiped. Ma’am.”

  “Thank you, adanin.” Shann accepted Dana’s hand and, in spite of her weariness, lowered herself to the polished oak seat as gracefully as if it were a throne. She regarded Jess with clinical concern. “You’re still shaking, Jesstin.”

  “I’m warming fast, lady.” Jess’s finger shifted beneath the fur and brushed over Brenna’s breast, and Brenna smiled into her thick hair.

  “But you’ve taken some punishing strikes.” Shann slid the furs down carefully to reveal Jess’s battered form, wrapped in several layers of bandages. Brenna closed her eyes, but then made herself match Shann’s calm appraisal of her injuries. “Nothing mortal or even disabling, all thanks to our Mothers. But there are some vicious cuts here, and this one—” Her hand hovered over Jess’s shoulder. “You’ve lost a great deal of blood, Jess. And this bruising runs deep.” She laid gentle fingers on her lower left side.

  “So I’ll not rival Kimba’s prowess tonight.” Jess flexed her right arm. “I can still lift a sword.”

  “Not for long, dear one.” Shann pulled the furs over Jess again. Brenna tried to catch her eye, but Shann avoided her gaze and addressed them all. “Our warriors fought like furies in this opening battle, adanin, and their valor carried us safe to morning. But our numbers are sadly depleted, and the Thesmophorian moon rises again tonight.”

  “Our enemies were Amazons.” Kyla shook her head in bewildered sadness. “Not Tristaine, but part of the Nation. Our sisters, lady.”

  “They were the spirits of the warriors who lie in the graveyard west of the mesa. The tribe of the stone queen.” Brenna shivered, remembering that dry, monotonous sobbing. “I heard her weeping as her clan attacked.”

  “Dear Goddess.” Shann lowered her head. “I can’t imagine enduring such grief.”

  A silence fell, broken only by the crackling of the fire. Kyla went to the hearth and lifted a pot of steaming water off the grate. Their cups held a variety of teas, and a light, pleasant blend of scents reached Brenna as Kyla filled them. Jess had stopped shivering and lay quietly beneath her stroking hand.

  “The look on that warrior’s face when she died,” Dana said finally. She was staring at her hands in the firelight. “Like I was saving her life, not ending it. I think she welcomed death.”

  Shann nodded, warming her fingers around her mug. “As would any true Amazon compelled to murder her sisters, Dana. The warriors who fought Tristaine last night weren’t hers any longer, our ancient stone queen. They still are not hers. Their souls belong to Botesh.”

  “It’s why we beat them, Shann.” Jess stirred beneath the furs. “The ghost-warriors were nearly our equal in skill, more than equal in numbers. But they fought with ferocity, not passion. They were forced into battle by a loathed demon. Tristaine willingly defended a queen we all cherish.”

  Shann’s eyes shimmered, and she reached down and brushed a lock of Jess’s hair off her forehead.

  Kyla checked Samantha’s sleep, then settled on the floor beside Dana. She lifted her hand into her lap and twined their fingers together.

  “Shann.” Brenna waited until she finally met her gaze. “The souls of those warriors were imprisoned in the inner ring of trees that encircle the village. There’s still the outer ring. It’s much larger.”

  “Ah, lordy, she’s right.” Dana rested her head against the wall. “If that outer ring spits out Amazons tonight, there’s going to be lots more of them.”

  “Enough to overwhelm our weakened forces.” Shann said this calmly, as if she were not predicting the death of her clan. “That’s why we must face Botesh herself at moonrise.”

  “Lady.” Jess slid her scratched hand across the fur and covered Shann’s. “It’s time you told us your strategy.”

  Brenna saw Shann’s gaze move to Samantha’s sleeping face.

  “Time and past time, Jesstin, yes. What there is of it.” Shann sighed as though a weight were lifting from her shoulders. “You’ve all been patient with my silence, and I thank you for that. I can tell you this much.”

  Dana and Kyla both sat slightly straighter against the wall.

  “I have heard and heeded the words of my adonai, sisters. I believe they reflect the will of our Goddess. I’m confident Her triad stands ready for Tristaine’s defense. Their blended strength will rise tomorrow night when Botesh takes physical form on our mortal plane.”

  “But how will they fight Botesh, lady?” Jess asked. “What shape will this battle take?”

  “Brenna.” Shann smiled. “Tell me, why do I keep after you to record the life of our clan in your journal?”

  “Because…” Brenna struggled for the right wording. “Because our history can provide a map for our granddaughters. The way Tristaine lives today can guide her descendants.”

  “Exactly.” Shann nodded. “Amazon lives become legend, Jesstin. Our grandmothers have faced similar enemies in our history. Just as the tale of our talented singer warned us of Botesh, Amazon myth carries clues to her downfall. Kyla…how did Queen Lenea fight the demon-king who threatened her tribe?”

  “She conjured a naiad, who skewered the king with an enchanted trident.” Kyla blinked, then smiled grimly. “I’d love to see Botesh skewered, lady, on any blade we can wield.”

  “No more than I, little sister.” Shann’s eyes glinted briefly with a predatory light. “As for a concise strategy for our next moonlight battle, adanin, I freely admit to having none. I’ll trust in our Mothers to guide us when the time comes.”

  “That’s all the assurance we need, Shann.” Brenna was relieved to realize she still meant every word. This queen had seen her clan whole through harrowing calamity before, and Tristaine had risen from the dust at the end of the day.

  “Thank you, Blades.” Shann’s tone warmed. “And now, I order a period of much-needed rest, sisters. I’ll
find my bed too, after I check Hakan’s wound.”

  “Hakan?” Jess lifted herself on her elbows, ignoring Brenna’s restraining hand. “Is she badly hurt, lady?”

  “She is, Jesstin.” Shann’s voice softened. “But our sister has the strength of Artemis. She’s one of many in my prayers.”

  Shann stepped quietly to the hearth and looked down at Samantha’s sleeping face. Then she lifted her cloak from a peg on the wall and wrapped it around her shoulders. She stopped at the door and turned to Brenna.

  “I wanted very much to shield you and Samantha from this danger, Blades. But I’ll not be able to keep either of you out of it tonight. We’ll need all your courage.”

  “You’ll have it,” Brenna promised. “But Shann, what will we—”

  “Peace, little sister. You’ll know in time.” Shann’s fingers formed a gentle, twirling shape in the air, a benediction, and then she was gone.

  Brenna rested her cheek in Jess’s hair and stared at the fire. Samantha was snoring softly, a mild, soporific buzzing Brenna had teased her about throughout their childhood.

  Dana nudged Kyla and patted her thigh, and Kyla stretched out and rested her head in her lap. Dana saw Brenna watching them and smiled at her with wistful sweetness, her fingers trailing through Kyla’s hair.

  Jess let out a sharp breath and tightened suddenly, her eyes closing.

  “Here, honey.” Brenna braced Jess’s head and held a cup to her lips. “Drink the rest of this. It’ll help you sleep.”

  Jess swallowed the tea without protest, which told Brenna much about the pain of her injuries. She set the empty cup aside and stroked her hair, willing her to relax.

  “Do we nurture a new seer, Bren?”

  “Hm?” Brenna followed Jess’s gaze to Samantha, sound asleep near the hearth. She remembered the confusion in her sister’s eyes when she asked about j’heika. “Oh, lord. I’d forgotten, Jess.”

  “Did your Sammy show any gift for prophecy growing up, lass?”

  “Well, we weren’t exactly tested for such things, but no. Neither did I, for that matter.”

  “Your first visions came when you joined Tristaine?”

  “My first visions came when I met you.” Brenna kissed the top of Jess’s head. “I wonder if this seer thing tends to run in families.”

  “A talent for queasiness seems to.” Jess grinned, and her eyes drifted closed.

  “You have to rest, love.”

  “Tell me the names first, Bren.”

  “Ah, Jesstin. It can wait. Please, you really need to—”

  “I need to hear the names.”

  So Brenna drew Jess closer, held her with great care, and began the terrible litany.

  “We lost Ayla,” she whispered. “And Remy, and Elodia. Raven fell. Perry is gone, and Trenare, and Danai, and Cyrene...”

  Jess’s tears fell silently and blended with Brenna’s. Only when the last fallen warrior was named did they surrender to sleep.

  Chapter Eleven

  Pounding on the cabin door woke Brenna seemingly seconds later. Jess jerked out of sleep, then gasped and clutched the furs in a white-knuckled grip. Brenna cursed softly and steadied her, trying to clear the cobwebs from her mind.

  Dana trotted to the door, scrubbing one hand over her face. She snatched it open, and Brenna was alarmed when no flood of sunlight filled the cabin. Surely it couldn’t be much past noon. Kyla and Samantha were both sitting up, looking as groggy and disoriented as she felt.

  “Back up, weed.” Sarah tapped her walking stick irritably at Dana’s legs as she entered, then peered into the cabin’s dark interior with a scowl. “Jesstin? You in here?”

  “I’m here, grandmother.” Jess sat up slowly, waving off Brenna’s hand. “Is there—”

  “Fog’s falling. Moon’s rising. Shanendra calls you all to the square.” Sarah turned and waved her stick at Dana again to get her out of the way.

  “Wait, hold up—ow.” Dana hopped back. “Sarah, why’s it so dang dark out?”

  “Do I look like an oracle?” Sarah growled. “All I know is the sun took it in its mind to set half a day early. I’ve got three more messages to deliver. Fog’s falling, moon’s rising, and Shanendra calls you all to the square. Any more impertinent questions?”

  “None.” Dana looked out the cabin door, shaking her head before closing it after Sarah.

  “Easy, Jess.” Brenna darted around the bed and took Jess’s arm as she pulled herself upright. Jess wavered for a moment, grimacing, then seemed to find her center. She straightened, holding her left side.

  “My gear, Bren?”

  “Jesstin, listen to sense.” Brenna gripped her wrist. “You can hardly stand, much less fight. You can’t possibly—”

  “My place is at our queen’s side, lass.” Jess brushed one finger down the side of Brenna’s face. “Help me dress, and I’ll thank you for it. But I fight tonight, with or without your help.”

  Brenna held Jess’s rough palm to her cheek and tried to quell the burning in her stomach. “If you fight, I’ll have your back, Jess. My place is with you.”

  Jess smiled, then bent her head and kissed her, a languid, sweet exploration of lips and tongue, a fleeting moment of peace before chaos fell.

  *

  At first it seemed to Brenna a nightmare replay of the previous evening, running beside Jess through the curdled fog, Amazons streaming in all directions, urgent whistles calling summons to battle. But this night’s race held a macabre new element that cast a gruesome glow over Tristaine’s mesa. The Thesmophorian moon cresting the horizon was a deep bloodred.

  Jess inserted two fingers in her mouth and sent out an ear-piercing trilogy of notes, and Brenna heard it answered from three different sectors seconds later. If Botesh hoped to catch Shann’s women flat-footed by somehow hastening the night, her plan was failing. Even depleted, Tristaine’s warriors were highly trained and formidable fighters, and there was no panic in their preparations.

  Every woman and child in Tristaine might become a warrior before the night was through, Brenna thought. She and Kyla carried escrima sticks, thin rods made of hard rock maple, nearly two feet long. Wielding them required skill, and Brenna had become adept in their use over the past summer. Even Samantha was armed with a short, stout club for self-defense should the fighting close in. She ran with them silently, almost as pale as Jess.

  Jess was moving well, her long stride relaxed and even. She still held her left side, but her breathing came easily, and Brenna marveled again at the healing capacity of Amazon stock.

  The silence was getting to her. Except for the light pattering of their feet and the occasional whistled signal, the premature night was quiet as a graveyard. Brenna saw the altar in the distance, long before they entered the square. It seemed to glow with its own malevolence, in resonant harmony with the crimson moon.

  If the bloody moonlight embraced the altar as kin, it outlined Tristaine’s queen in a more benevolent silhouette. The fog swirled in restless coils around Shann’s robes, but she ignored its clammy touch, every line of her body resolute.

  As Shann had commanded, the six women were alone in the village square. Jess unleashed another series of whistles as they gathered in its center, and a volley of distant replies came quickly.

  “We’re in place, Shann.” Jess straightened and dropped her hand from her side. “The first wave monitors the outer ring. The second waits a hundred yards farther in.”

  “And we’re the third wave, if need be.” Shann’s smile was grim. “Pity Botesh if she does regain her humanity tonight. Flesh gives more easily than spirit to Tristaine steel.”

  Shann’s clear voice echoed in the fog-shrouded square, and Brenna felt a thrill of dark anticipation. She had seen this side of Shann before, on the brink of an earlier battle, when Tristaine was threatened by Caster. She was healer, teacher, and much more, but tonight, Shann was once again a blood-tested queen of warrior women, and any victory Botesh might eke out would be dearly won. />
  “Hear me, adanin.” Shann walked before them, meeting the eyes of each woman as she passed. “Our sisters cry out from their graves for justice. Tonight we end the reign of a traitorous queen whose hands are drenched in centuries of Amazon blood.”

  A low tapping sound reached Brenna, and she was afraid her trip-hammering heart was audible in the silence of the square. But then she recognized the source of the metallic clatter. Dyan’s labrys still lay on the altar’s surface, and its blades were vibrating again against the black rock. The heavy weapon quivered with power, as if holding back a furious force determined to break free.

  Shann reacted at once, her robes swirling as she went to the altar. A cry formed and died in Brenna’s throat as Shann gripped the labrys in both hands and lifted it, stilling its tremors.

  “Lady, listen!” Jess drew her sword from its scabbard, and Dana mirrored her action. Kyla stepped protectively closer to Samantha, the escrima wands braced and ready in her hands. Sammy looked around wildly, her club hovering over her shoulder like a baseball bat.

  Brenna heard it then, and her heartbeat ratcheted higher. That terrible low moaning, repellant at a visceral level. The outer ring of trees that encircled Tristaine was too far distant to see from the square, but Brenna didn’t need her eyes. The far-off, guttural groaning meant the bark of each tree had begun to shimmer with that ghastly gray light. It was the first sign of the emergence of the ghost-warriors.

  Jess was poised and ready for flight. “Shann, send me on.”

  “Not tonight, Jesstin. We’ll need your protection here.” Shann carried the labrys around the altar and walked back to them. “Keep them off us, Jess, as long as you possibly can.”

  “Lady—”

  “And have more faith in your warrior-sisters, Jesstin. Remember, our enemies are forced into battle by a loathed demon.” Shann stopped in front of Brenna and held the labrys out to her. “Tristaine’s warriors fight willingly to defend a queen we all cherish.”