Amazon Moon (20 page)

Racha the Nubian, almost invisible in the dark, was chosen to seek Oona. Our colony went to bed uneasy, awaiting Racha's findings. At daybreak, she returned with the runaway girl riding double behind her. Racha told the council a grim report which the old woman at the two-vine home had learned from other villagers. I recorded her account:

"Oona never reached the safe-house. In the dark, her horse stumbled in a hole. She was thrown and knocked unconscious. The second horse ran off down the valley. A platoon of Greek warriors, camped nearby at a log barn, heard her horse shriek with a broken leg. With torches from their campfire, they went to investigate. They killed the doomed horse, saved its saddle and bridle, and carried the unconscious rider back to the barn. Soon they discovered that the ‘boy’ was a woman with leather armor and weapons under her cloak: a hated Amazon.

"They bound her and hung her by her wrists from a tree limb, too high for her feet to touch the ground. They revived her with water splashes. Her wits returned and she realized she was trapped like a hare. The Greek commander feigned cordiality and promised that she would be freed if she revealed the location of the Amazon hideout. She mocked him and made jesting replies.

"The interrogation turned ugly. Soldiers poked her with dagger points and cut away her clothing until she hung naked. She spat on them and refused to answer questions. She kicked any soldier who came within reach, tumbling one briefly into the campfire. The men laughed and jabbed her with long sticks, some afire at the tip. Daylight arrived and villagers came to watch the torture spectacle.

"The commander gave Oona an ultimatum: reveal the hideaway or be a target for archery practice. She scorned the poor aim of Greek bowmen, saying they probably would hit their horses tethered nearby.

"On command, five archers lined up with their bows. The officer gave her a final chance. She hooted. The officer gave the order to shoot. The first bowman loosed an arrow, but she lurched and eluded it. She also ducked the next one. But the third pierced her thigh, and the next her abdomen. She didn't cry out, giving her tormentors no satisfaction. The fifth arrow entered her right breast, exactly in the nipple, and protruded from her back. She shuddered and sagged limp in death. 'Bull's-eye,' a soldier said. But the others were silent, as though ashamed of what they had done."

Amazon council members were enraged by the report. The heat of their anger filled the room. When the War Queen suggested a quick revenge attack before the Greeks left the valley, there was no vote, just a roar of agreement. Word flashed around the Amazon village and volunteers rushed to form a large cavalry squad. Mitha armed herself, saddled a horse, and hurried to join the vengeance troop. Deliberately, the War Queen delayed the assault.

"It's only noon," she warned the assembled throng. "If we gallop out now in a rage, we will encounter the Greeks in daylight while they are armed and mounted. We might suffer severe casualties. We must employ cunning, striking them in the dark when they are unprepared. We will eat a large midday meal, then all of you will bathe in the pool to reduce the risk of festering wounds. We will ride out quietly in late afternoon, so the shadows of dusk will cloak us as we search for the light of their campfire."

The warriors knew that their commander was correct. They released the horses to graze. As the women fighters ate, Saria walked from group to group, coaching them on tactics they might employ in the evening battle. At her command, all the women stripped and bathed in a crowd that nearly overflowed the pool. They made bawdy jokes as they scrubbed each other.

The sun was dipping low on the hilltops as the mounted band of well-fed, well-washed, well-armed women rode out of the hidden colony. Litha and I waved farewell to Mitha and silently wished her luck. With so many women gone from the village, I wasn't ordered to an Amazon bed, so I spent the evening in Litha's wonderful embrace.

We were awakened next morning by the sound of returning horses. We rushed out to see the revenge troop riding tall, leading a string of captured Greek horses, including two pulling the supply wagon of the Greek unit. The wagon was piled full of weapons and garments taken from the enemy. Sadly, it also contained the shrouded body of Oona. A senior Amazon, Kella, a council member, had a blood-soaked binding on her arm. All the others seemed unhurt. Mitha rushed over to tell Litha and me:

"We hid in a grove and spotted the Greeks still at the log barn. They were drinking wine around a fire after dinner. Oona's body still hung in the tree like a grotesque trophy. At Saria's command, we charged them at a gallop, screaming with rage. We killed a few as they scrambled to their feet, and the rest ran into the barn. We surrounded them and posted archers to shoot anyone who came out a door or window. The Greeks had some bows inside the barn, and shot at us through cracks between the logs. Beside me, Kella suffered an arrow through her arm.

"Saria hatched a plan to burn them out. Shields were hooked together with poles through their straps, making full-length protection that allowed warriors to walk forward safely. I was one of those who marched up to the barn. We took burning limbs from their bonfire and put them against the logs. Soon the barn was flaming. Some Greeks ran out but were killed the moment they burst from the door. Others stayed inside, coughing and screaming, and died when the blazing roof fell on them. We massacred them all, every one of the bastards. Then we cut down Oona's body, gathered their horses and supplies, and hurried away into the dark before any villagers came to the scene."

That afternoon we slaves dug a grave and Oona was buried on the knoll. For several days a mood of grim satisfaction was felt in the Amazon colony. But the War Queen, with Leeantha by her side, delivered a warning to the council:

"We were lucky. We caught the Greek platoon half-drunk, still at the barn, in the dark, with no sentries posted. We showed the outside world that Amazons may not be tortured and executed without consequence. However, such good fortune may not occur if we ever let passions stampede us too quickly into revenge attacks.

"Our colony has survived many years because we act wisely. We never attack a large male force in daylight, because most of our women would die. Instead we raid at night, striking by surprise, then vanish into the dark and hide our tracks to our refuge. We are pleased by the outcome of our retaliation. But we must always remember to outthink our enemies, enabling us to outfight them."

31

Inner peace grows from the closeness of lovers. My nights with Litha were pure contentment. As we lay together, serene after lovemaking, I stroked every part of her bare body. She kissed the scars of the wounds that make me limp.

"I will heal your knees magically like the god Asclepius."

"Your magic is better than his."

On another hot night, we again slipped naked through the dark village and swam in the lower pool. After we made love on the grassy bank, she murmured in my ear.

"You have given me a baby."

"How can you tell?"

"I feel it."

"You're feeling your desire for a baby."

"Perhaps."

One day we acquired a new companion. As we shared our midday meal on the creek bank, we were joined by Tildee, four-year-old orphan daughter of the warrior Tantia, who died in the brothel raid. Since her mother's death, Tildee had lived in the children's dormitory with older girls. She had curly black hair, big dark eyes, endearing earnestness, and much curiosity.

"Why do butterflies have spotted wings?" she asked.

"Well, uh," Litha muddled, "maybe it's so they will look like the flowers they visit."

Having learned the hard way that I mustn't offer views that might seem irreligious, I answered: "Eila the priestess says the gods made them with spots."

Tildee pondered in silence, wriggling her bare toes in the sand.

"Why do we have toes?"

Again Litha fumbled, then stretched out her hands.

"It's like having fingers. Many creatures have separate fingers and toes. But horses and goats don't. Nature is very, very interesting, don't you think?"

Tildee nodded solemnly. Once more, I was cautious:

"When Eila teaches you girls about the gods, ask her these things."

Tildee climbed onto my lap, shared part of my bread, and did the same with Litha. We both hugged her. Then she toddled away barefoot toward the children's building. Litha and I smiled at each other, and she had a glint of tears in her eyes. We felt a need for children to love and tend, almost an ache.

"Nature doesn't just make toes and butterflies," I said. "She also causes adults to love the young."

Litha put her arm around my waist and leaned her head on my shoulder as we sat side-by-side on the bank, watching the creek ripple.

* * *

Autumn drew near. Lands along the Black Sea enjoyed a breath of coolness. The vaguely sad mood of the dying summer clung to the hidden valley of the Amazons. But we male slaves had no time to savor the season, because we were thrust into the wheat harvest, a period of exhausting labor.

First we knelt with iron sickles and cut swatches of wheat. We tied a few stalks around each swatch, making sheaves. Then we stood the sheaves together in clumps, grain upward, to dry. Next we carried the bundles to the threshing floor, a wide limestone ledge swept clean. We rolled smooth logs and round stones over the wheat, dislodging the grains. A slave was posted continuously at the threshing spot to drive away hungry birds.

Then we winnowed, using broad tortoise shells to toss the mix into the air so that wind blew away the chaff and straw, letting the heavy grains fall back into our scoops and into the deepening layer of grain below. Finally we put the dry wheat in mouse-proof pottery jars at the bakery and in a well-sealed granary room. After winnowing, our sweaty bodies and hair were caked with chaff, and we washed in the lower pool.

The harvest took several days. Each night we were too fatigued to tell tales after dinner at the slave quarters, but fell rapidly asleep. Mercifully, the Amazons saw our condition and did not order any of us to their beds during the harvest. Afterward, the routine of village life resumed.

* * *

Late one night, Olandra, the coastal lookout, returned to the colony, bringing two slender young runaways who had followed the secret conduit of two-vine homes. They were welcomed, fed, and shown to bed. Next day, they were presented to the village council. As scribe, I recorded their accounts.

"We were servant-concubines of a Kavopolis merchant," the taller one said, gesturing with both hands. "But he was fat and unpleasant. When we didn't show enough adoration for him, he slapped and kicked us. We tried to feign affection, but he saw through our pretense and struck us harder. An older slave woman whispered to us about the homes with two vines. So we ran away into the night and came to you."

A few days later, a surprise occurred. The runaway pair went to Hella with a confession. She brought them before the council again and I recorded their new report:

"We want you to know the truth: We were sent by the military. After Commander Malgon's troop disappeared, the Assembly posted a price on the heads of Amazons. Our merchant master is friends with high-ranking officers, who came to us with an offer. We would be allowed to escape, to find our way to the unknown home of the Amazons. If we succeeded, we were to slip away at night, return to Kavopolis and reveal your location so that soldiers could attack. For our service, we were promised freedom plus a reward great enough that we might acquire homes and husbands.

"However, now that we have tasted your welcome and felt the comradeship of your life together and seen your spirit as free women, we do not wish to betray you. We will not return to the Greek world. We want to remain with you."

The council applauded. Hella stood between the girls with her arms around their shoulders. The Amazon leaders were pleased to have thwarted a Greek military scheme.

Later that day, an ominous thought crossed my mind. That night, curled in bed with Litha, I explained my fear:

"Greek commanders are not stupid. Surely they knew that two slave concubines would choose freedom among Amazons instead of returning to the miserable life of Greek women. What if the military plot had a second trick? What if a male spy followed the escaping girls, staying hidden, patiently waiting as they proceeded along the path of two vines, watching until he saw them enter the concealed valley?"

Litha sat up, her body silvered by moonlight through her window. Her brow furrowed.

"We must tell Hella. Maybe it's only a suspicion, but let's tell her anyway."

Next morning we went to the Home Queen and recited our concern. Hella pursed her lips and nodded slowly.

"Yes. Yes. That's possible. But how can we know? It's just a guess."

Nonetheless, she went to the War Queen and they called a brief council meeting. It was decided to instruct the sentry at the mouth of the valley to stay intently vigilant, and to send a disguised warrior to houses of two vines to learn if anything was amiss.

In subsequent days the apprehension receded from our minds. Then Litha and I forgot it entirely as we encountered a worse alarm.

32

Not long after the wheat harvest, Litha clutched me excitedly, her face glowing.

"I'm pregnant. My flow hasn't returned."

We both felt jumbled emotions. I embraced her intensely, then held her at arm's length by her shoulders and repeated our old worry:

"What if it's a boy? Remember what Amazons do with boys."

"Maybe it will be a girl—" she trailed off, unsure.

We sank onto her pallet and made love, but with caution by me, as I now considered her more vulnerable.

In coming days, we felt the magical excitement of a couple creating life. Her breasts swelled and she looked radiant. The bond between us grew tighter than ever.

But her glow caused an unexpected problem. A week later she came to me with an odd report. One of the strongest Amazon warriors, Zelena, who never slept with male slaves, had seized Litha at the bathing pool and kissed her. The warrior was hard-muscled, with a long shoulder scar from a past Greek sword slash. As Litha squirmed to separate their wet bodies, Zelena blurted that her longtime lover had been Celeste, who died of inflamed wounds after the Malgon raid. Since then Zelena had suffered grief and loneliness. But she was drawn to Litha's young beauty and wanted her for her own.