Amazon Chief (2 page)

And then he said, "It wasn't your fault, Beria. It was their fault."

"It was Juna's fault!"

"No. It was the Amazons and only the Amazons. They all had swords, and we had nothing. They are all trained to fight. They are trained to kill."

"We had so many, and there weren't that many of them."

"All of you might have stopped them, but many would have died. Many, many would have died, Beria. You know our sister would have been fighting in front, and she would have been the first to die.

About Maya, Mother and Father would only say, "Your sister will be an Amazon now." But I knew they were wrong. My sister would never be that kind of woman. My sister was firm, but kind; she would never do what those women did, taking girls from their homes like that.

They wouldn't answer when I asked when Maya was coming home. Then they wouldn't answer when I asked if she was coming home.

I burned with hatred for the Amazons.

Juna taught us thro
ugh the end of the school year. Mama took me back to school early the next day before all the other children. Juna was waiting, sitting at her desk. She stood slowly when we walked in and hobbled around to stand waiting for us. Mama marched me straight to her. I was sure Juna would hit me with her cane and then Mama would make me apologize.

Instead she said, "Beria, I am so very sorry. I am an old woman, and I fight only with my words, and they were immune to them. I am so very sorry. I hope some day you can forgive me."

I stared at her for a while; she and Mama let me think about it. Finally I said, "Dannick told me it wasn't your fault. It wasn't our fault. He said if we had fought them, many of us would have died. Maya would have died."

"Your brother is probably right," Juna said. "Nori -- she's the one who took Maya -- anticipated we might fight, and she was very clear what would happen. She said they didn't want to hurt us, and they wouldn't hurt the girls they take. But they were taking three girls with them, and if we resisted, people would get hurt. If a lot of us resisted, people would die. Beria, they won't hurt Maya. They need her. Do you understand?"

I shook my head.

"But it wasn't your fault," I said. "I shouldn't have screamed at you. I'm sorry. If you have to hit me with your cane, I understand."

"I'm not going to hit you, Beria. You said the words I've been thinking. You'll never understand how sorry I am they took Maya."

And so, we forgave each other, and she even asked if she could hug me.

Summer came, the time for planting and working the fields for many living near Gallen's Cove, and we had no school. Over the summer, I turned thirteen. I repaired fishing nets, helped clean fish when the boats came in, and helped mother in the house.

And sometimes I took Maya's skiff out onto the cove, sailing it the way she had taught me. And I cried, but I didn't tell anyone.

Autumn came; school began with a new teacher, an unpleasant woman named Mrs. Wrenhouse. She was a big woman who waddled as much as she walked, with a loud voice, and she smelled. All the children hated her. She liked to carry a ruler, and if she didn't like what we were doing, she would whack us across the knuckles or on top of our heads. She ruled the school through our fear of her, and for the first time in my life, I wished I were a boy.

Boys in Gallen's Cove only attend school until they turn fourteen, but
as a girl, I would have to stay until I was eighteen. I couldn't stand the thought of another five years learning from Mrs. Wrenhouse.

I missed Maya even more.
She was a big sister, and sometimes that was hard, but she was a lot, lot better than Mrs. Wrenhouse.

Spring arrived. And one night my Grandma Alara came to have dinner with us. She spoke quietly to Mama, and when Father arrived home from a day at sea, she spoke quietly to him, and they both cried together, but they were smiling.

I didn't understand.

Over dinner though, Father said, "Beria, boys, your Grandmother brings us good news. Maya is coming home for a visit."

Dannick immediately asked, "When?" and when he got a chance, Chandor asked, "Will she be the school teacher again. Mrs. Wrenhouse is mean!"

"In a few days," answered the first question and, "I don't know," answered the second.

But I saw Mama, and she had tears in her eyes.

The day Maya came to Gallen's Cove, I didn't recognize her at first. I didn't see her arrive, as we were all in school, but there was a commotion outside, and soon Mrs. Wrenhouse was yelling at all of us to behave and pay attention. She swatted Matto Briarwood with her ruler then walked up and down the rows of desks, glaring at all of us. We stared at our hands, not even making faces as she passed us.

Mrs. Wrenhouse had eyes in the back of her head, and none of us was fond of her ruler.

But then the school doors opened, and Mr.
Bardon stepped in. Mr. Bardon used to be the village blacksmith; now his son held that job, but he was one of the village elders along with Juna and my grandmother. "Mrs. Wrenhouse," Mr. Bardon said, "I am sorry to interrupt. But the Amazons are here, and we must assemble for them."

The children all grew quiet; we all remembered when they had come last year. But I grew excited. My sister was here!

"Very well," Mrs. Wrenhouse said after a moment. "Children, put your things away, but remember you have book reports due tomorrow, and the arrival of our guests is no excuse not to finish them."

Thirty seconds later, the schoolhouse was empty of children as we all poured forth to see the Amazons, some of us with dread, but at least one of us with the excitement of seeing her sister.
I wasn't the first one out of the schoolhouse, but I was far from the last as well.

When I arrived in the square, however, I didn't see Maya. There were Amazon women clustered in small groups here and there, and townspeople everywhere. At the head of the square, workmen had assembled a small stage, and there were rows of chairs, benches and even bales of straw for us to sit on. I looked around, but I couldn't find Maya.
I could always find her in a crowd: she had all that hair. But everywhere I looked were Amazons in their leather clothes, some in short hair, some with it braided down her back, but I couldn't find Maya.

Hadn't she come after all?

I looked at the groups of women, but I couldn't see my sister. Standing near the stage, however, I saw a group of Amazons, including That One. The one who had been so rude to Juna, the mean one, the one who had taken my sister.

I edged away from her.

A few minutes later, Mother found me.

"I can't find Maya," I said. "Mama, they didn't bring Maya."

Mother looked at me carefully. "Yes, they did," she said. "But we have to sit. They're about to begin." She pulled me to some of the hay bales and set me down between her and Father, my two older brothers on the other side of Dad, my youngest on the other side of Mom.

As I said, I didn't recognize my sister at first. From behind, I saw a woman with long, black hair pulled into a braid down her back. She was standing with the scary one. Then I saw her hug the Amazon next to her. When that woman turned around, I saw she was older than Maya, much older, although not quite as old as Mom. Then the woman with the long hair hugged the scary one before climbing onto the stage.

Mom and Dad both sat up straight, and Mama whispered quietly, "Maya."

I stared at my sister. She looked just like the other Amazons, wearing green leather clothing and carrying herself like I had never seen her before.

She stepped to the front of the stage and looked out over all of us. She raised her hand. People continued talking, but then the scary Amazon took a whip from her belt and cracked it loudly twice.

All the villagers jumped in surprise, but they immediately grew quiet.

My sister smiled. "Thank you, Nori." Then she looked out over us again, and she used her teacher's voice, the one that could carry through any crowd. "It's good to be home."

She got some cheering for that, but she held up her hand.

"I know you're wondering what we're doing here," she said. "No, we aren't here to yank your daughters from your arms." She turned to the women at the side of the stage and glared at them. That earned some laughter, although it sounded like nervous laughter, as if people thought there might be a joke, but they weren't sure. "The Amazons do not do that anymore. Do they, Queen Malora?"

"No, Maya," the older Amazon said, the one my sister had hugged. "They don't."

My sister had hugged the Amazon queen. I didn't understand.

"I have a story to tell," Maya said. She looked around. "Everyone here knows me." She paused, looking down at the elders seated in the front row. "I want to thank the village elders for allowing me to speak today
, and I would like to ask them a question. Do you trust me?"

Juna didn't wait. She rose to her feet and said, "Yes, Maya Softpeace. You have as much integrity as anyone here."

"Thank you, Juna," Maya replied.

Juna sat down, and Maya looked around again. "The story I am about to tell is not fit for the youngest of us. I don't see any of the younger children here, but please, can you all look around and make sure there is no one in attendance who shouldn't hear this story?"

A couple of women stood up. Liara Netchaser was holding her baby, and Roreeva Blackbird had her hands on the shoulders of her eight-year-old boy, Ewan. Maya looked at both of them and frowned. "I would prefer both of you hear my story. Is there someone who can take your children?"

"My grandmother can watch over Challa," Liara said. "And Ewan is a good boy. Perhaps he could read to Grandma." She turned to Roreeva, who knelt in front of Ewan and asked if he would read to Nana Netchaser. The boy nodded, and she sent him over to Liara. "I'll need a few minutes, Maya."

"We'll begin, Liara," Maya said, "But it's a lengthy story, and I'll make sure we save the important parts for you."

Liara nodded, talked to Ewan, and then the two of them, with baby Challa in Liara's hands, hurried from the square.

Maya looked around. "Anyone else?" She paused, then said, "We'll begin."

And then she began to tell her story.

It seemed fantastical at first, this story of training to fight demons, and then the story of the demon itself. Maya spoke as she always did: carefully and clearly, walking back and forth on the stage slowly and looking out over us all.

I wished she would come back and be our teacher. I wished she would come home and be my sister again.
I missed her.

But she looked amazing in her dark green leather clothing with a wooden staff slung across her back. She looked strong and confident, and I found myself staring at her.

I wanted to be just like her.

I listened carefully as Maya told her story. Then there was a gasp from the front row, and I heard Juna screech in surprise. Then all of us gasped as the scary one, the one Maya called "Nori", pulled the head of a horrible creature from a sack, holding it by its long horns for us all to see.

Maya had killed that? By herself, with nothing but a knife?

I had always idolized my sister, but one thing I knew about her: she wasn't a fighter. She had surprised me when she won the fight for my freedom, and it was very, very difficult to believe she could beat a creature as fearsome as the one Nori held aloft.

I understood why she had sent the younger children away.

Then Maya had explained what it was like to be an Amazon. She talked about training to fight, camping in the woods, and living roughly. She talked about how the companions brought comfort to their warriors, and how deeply valued they were for doing so.

Nori put the head away, but then Maya called Nori to her, and it was clear there was fondness between them.

Maya had become friends with the woman who had taken her from us, but from her story, it was clear a lot had happened in a year.

Maya introduced several of the women. Nori scared me, as did Ralla, but then she introduced two women, younger than Maya, and said, "they are gentle and sweet. I hope their companions are here today."

I looked at the clear affection my sister had for her friends. And I thought about Mrs. Wrenhouse.

And I wondered.

Maya finished her talk, and then she turned away. I looked to mother, who nodded once, and I got up and ran, dashing through the milling villagers until I threw myself into my sister's arms.

"Maya!" I yelled.

And then we were hugging each other, laughing and crying at the same time. She pushed me away to look at me, then pulled me back in for another hug. Then she pushed me away again.

"You've grown," she said.

"I didn't recognize you," I told her. "You look so different."

"Different good or different bad?" she asked with a grin.

"Different amazing," I answered.

She pulled me into another hug. "I've missed you. How's the new teacher?"

"Terrible," I whispered into her ear. "Please come home."

She laughed. "I'm sorry." Then she pulled away from me. "Beria, I really want to talk to you, but I promised Queen Malora a ride in a skiff. But you'll be at the dance, and we can talk then all you want."