ForevaXena's FanFic . . .
Until It Ends There
Is No End
by Phantom Bard (a.k.a. J. Nakamura)
Phantom Bard, Brooklyn, N.Y., May 2001
Disclaimer: This is an uber tale, based on the TV series, Xena: Warrior Princess, and its characters and concepts, which are the creation and property of MCA/Universal and Renaissance Pictures. No malice is intended towards the characters or concepts of this excellent production. I would like to express my thanks to their creators for sharing them with us. As always, this work of fan fiction is offered for non-profit entertainment only. It may not be sold, may be downloaded for personal use only, and must contain this statement.
This story is a sequel to my earlier story "CYCLES", and relates to characters and events in it, as well as to characters and events in the TV series, Xena: Warrior Princess.
This story contains violence, personal trauma, questionable language, and relationships based on the subtext present in the TV series. There is no intent to offend; however if you find any of these topics uncomfortable, illegal, or undesirable, please read something else. There's plenty.
¤
CANON AND SYNOPSIS
For those who have not read the earlier tale "Cycles", let me clarify some background. Xena, the Warrior Princess of Amphipolis was the daughter of the innkeeper Cyrene, and throughout her childhood and youth believed herself to have been fathered by the warrior Atrius. Her quick mind and prowess in battle became twisted by the cruelty of her fate, until she became a ruthless and ambitious warlord. Yet through the intervention of the demigod Hercules, and the mounting guilt inside her, she resolved to leave the destructive life she had lived. Her resolve was supported by the love of her soul mate, Gabrielle, the Bard of Potidaea, later the Amazon Queen. There came a time in which Xena was trapped in the body of her archenemy Callisto of Cirra, and during that time she briefly held the Sword of Ares, the God of War. It had lasting consequences, for as was later explained, Xena held a special heritage. She had never been the daughter of the cuckold, Atrius. She was, in fact, the daughter of Ares himself. Contact with Ares' sword activated a latent divinity, and she became the Goddess of War and Strategy. For two thousand years she managed to conceal this fact, a task made easier when Ares became mortal and died.
Eventually, sensing the threat of an unknown enemy, and frustrated by the progress of mankind, she created a defense force. In 2006, there came two invasions, and with a resurrected Ares, she defeated challenges from the last of the Gods, and the aliens under their dominion. Eventually she was reunited with Gabrielle and became mortal again. Then followed generations of reincarnations, and the growth and partial destruction of mankind's empires in space. Finally, the 64th reincarnations of Xena and Gabrielle returned to Earth in the year 8,722. Eventually, they died. It is now Anno Domini 9,392.
UNTIL IT ENDS THERE IS NO END
Begun 4/20/2001 Completed 5/13/2001
Revised 5/16/2001 First Posted
TABLE OF CONTENTS
CHAPTER 1: THE FALL OF STRYMA VALE
In which Dena of Amphilios and her mother flee their home before invaders.
CHAPTER 2: THE ROAD TO THERMA
In which Dena acquires a horse.
CHAPTER 3: WHAT DREAMS ARE FOR
In which Dena meets Priestesses and the Goddesses
CHAPTER 4: WINNING THE ROAD TO CORINTHIA
In which Dena acquires a sidekick and follows a dream.
CHAPTER 5: OF UNDERGROUND SPARATA
In which Dena learns nerve attacks and names her horse.
CHAPTER 6: ONCE IN A LIFETIME
In which Dena celebrates her 18th birthday, and overhears a plot.
CHAPTER 7: THE TEMPLES OF ATHENAE
In which Dena saves the King, a Priestess, and assorted innocents.
CHAPTER 8: MOHEGALA THE RED KHAN
In which Dena meets unexpected allies.
CHAPTER 9: THE WRATH OF THE PRIESTESS
In which Dena loses a friend.
CHAPTER 10: I WILL BRING YOU COMFORT
In which Dena finds a soul mate.
CHAPTER 11: ALL THESE WORLDS ARE MINE
In which Dena confronts Ares in battle.
CHAPTER 12: THE MOMENT OF TRUTH
In which the Destroyer of Galaxies is born.
CHAPTER 13: 135 B.C.
In which a new cycle has begun.
☼
It is in the Year of Our Lord 9,410, being the 37th year of the reign of King Liasis II, and the 223rd year since the Death of the Goddesses, that we begin to hear heroic tales of the Warrior, Dena of Amphilios, and the Priestess, Najilla of Therma. They grow in renown as the tales progress, and they are accounted as heroes in the service of the Greater Good. In many places they fought for the justice of oppressed people, but one of their most famous adventures began when Dena celebrated her eighteenth birthday. They were in the seaside city of Piraetum, just a few miles from Athenae, relaxing in the trendy end of town, far, far away from the fishmongers. The two had arrived the night before, after spending half the previous day helping a family recover a kidnapped son, and the other half at one of Najilla's temples. After they were settled at an inn, somehow Dena had coaxed Najilla out for drinks, and in typical fashion, Dena had met a group of dancers. They'd be getting together with them after lunch to celebrate Dena's birthday.
"Oh Gods No! We do not need this," Najilla had thought out loud, "just what is it with her and strippers anyway? She is sooooo going to owe me if we end up in jail, again."
They'd examined the lunch menus in the cafes and taverns, rejecting Indian, Greek, and Chinese before deciding on Mex. Horse meat tacos for Najilla and a goat burrito for the birthday girl. Neither trusted the dog meat. It was a good choice, and they skipped the rice and beans for the margaritas, served in goblets the size of fishbowls. By the time their new friends arrived they were on their second drinks and their third order of nachos, and they were giggling and cracking up at the guys who were eyeing them. The three dancers Dena had met were born party girls, they were gorgeous, and they traveled in a pack. Katrina, Alyssa, and Britney thought Dena and Najilla would fit right in with their other friends. Soon the five of them were drinking, telling bawdy tales and stories of mayhem, and laughing hysterically. They compared tattoos and body piercings. They confessed stuff.
In the mid-afternoon they staggered down to the beach to spend some time roasting in the sun. Everyone on the beach was naked. They soon had a pile of their clothes and weapons in the sand. Dena and Najilla's grumbling about how pale they were, and tan lines, and wishing they'd shaved more was replaced by giggling as the five slathered each other with olive oil. Eventually they settled down to enjoy Helios' bounty of healthy rays. Dena figured it would take Najilla, and the equally fair complected Britney about a quarter candle mark to burn. She gave herself about a candle mark, and the well tanned Katrina and Alyssa perhaps two. At least the sun was half way to the sea and the most intense of the sunlight was passed. She remembered to tell everyone to turn the first time, but then, against her better judgement she dozed.
She found she was standing in a field, with not a single corpse or cadaver as far as the eye could see. Definitely not Xena's style. It was a landscape of rolling hills, bountiful with near ripe crops. A short distance away stood a farmhouse, a barn, and an enclosure with chicken coops. Several large trees shaded the house, the sounds of livestock came from the barn, and she saw chickens scratching in the dust for feed. It was a productive homestead in a good year, and there would be no starvation this winter if this family's luck held. It made her happy, for though she had been raised in a tavern in town, she knew well the uncertainty and cruelty of the farmer's life, at the mercy of weather, illness, accident, crop prices, warlords, taxes, and just about anything else that could possibly go wrong.
Dena moved through the field, closer to the house. A hill blocked the curve of the road, but Dena heard the hoof beats before she saw the riders. At least a dozen she figured, and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up in apprehension. A distant bell began ringing, perhaps in the nearest town. Ominous Dena thought...it rings from the direction of the riders' approach, as if in alarm. If so, then it's too late. 13 riders galloped over the crest of the hill, followed by a wagon with two soldiers aboard. They were coming down the road towards the farmhouse, and slowed to a canter as they drew near.
As Dena reached for her sword a hand stayed her arm, and looking to her right she saw Gabrielle standing at her side.
"Watch and wait warrior," the Bard said firmly, "you are dreaming and you cannot act."
The riders had reached the yard of the house, and a man came out armed with a sword. Behind him five of his sons and hired hands joined him to stare down the threat. They had good weapons, Dena noticed, but they were outnumbered almost three to one. They would have to be very good at using them unless the bandits were pushovers.
"They are part of General Kerlig's army, seasoned battle troops seeking supplies, nothing more," Gabrielle said, "but Nardis and his sons work their fingers to the bone, and they feel they must protect their home. The results will be heartbreaking."
Dena watched as the tragedy played out. The soldiers' captain asking for supplies, and offering to buy what could be spared, yet making it clear they would not leave empty-handed. The farmer refusing, claiming that their army were invaders in his area, come to threaten the local city council. Their captain denied being an invader, saying the army was enroute to battle on behalf of their allies to the north, and had no intentions locally. The farmer refused to believe him, calling them outlaws who had been condemned by the king. The captain was enraged, for the allies to the north were loyal to the king as were they themselves. He would not see his men ride to battle half-starved. The farmer demanded they leave at once, and that he would not feed invaders.
"If this captain were a real outlaw he would never have asked for, nor offered to pay for supplies. If he were really an invader he would have slaughtered first and collected food afterwards. If he were simply a warlord he would have been happy to be condemned by the king and would have counted the charge a credit to his fame."
The Bard commented on the ongoing exchange in the farmyard, but to Dena the outcome was a foregone conclusion. Soon this soldier would lose patience, the farmer already had none, and now he couldn't back down in front of his sons and hands. Likewise the captain couldn't back down in front of his men. At 6 against 15 the fight would be short. The soldiers were much better equipped and trained. When it started, the yelling had already ended. The captain had turned to address his troops and the farmer charged at his back. An arrow brought him down, still yards away from the captain. Then the sons and hands engaged in battle with the soldiers, everyone's tempers inflamed by the attempted treachery and the killing. In minutes the fighting was over. Soon the soldiers were loading a wagon with supplies, never taking more than necessary. The captain entered the house only once, and when he left his helmet was in his hands and sorrow lined his face. Then the troops rode back up the road, more slowly now, but before they left, they had laid the bodies of the farmer and his men aside under one of the great trees, closing their eyes, laying their arms across their chests, and their weapons at their feet.
For a while Dena and Gabrielle watched the aftermath, and Dena turned to Gabrielle in query but the Bard simply held up her hand and they continued to wait.
Slowly the door of the farmhouse opened. A woman in an apron and two young girls fearfully edged their way onto the porch, while Dena and Gabrielle moved closer. The woman and the girls had noticed the bodies, and though they already knew what had transpired, they broke down wailing and sobbing, clutching the bodies and stroking the cold hands and faces of their family members. The mother flung a pouch of coins into the dirt.
The older girl, whom Dena could now tell was perhaps just starting her teens, finally stood and looked down the road where the soldiers had gone. She was shaking her head, the tears sliding down her cheeks. Dena felt compelled to comfort her, and moved across the yard to stand beside her. The closer she got, the stronger the feeling became. Dena looked carefully at her and noticed the emerald color of her eyes, though it was darkened by her tears. She recognized the hair that would darken a shade with the coming years. She knew how her face and body would look in the future. Dena looked at Gabrielle and received a nod in return. No, this was not the distant past, nor the life of a long-dead reincarnation of the Bard. This tragedy was happening in the world she lived in, at the present moment, and to someone she would someday love. She reached out to wipe away a tear, but she was a phantom and couldn't touch the girl's face, and the scene blurred as her own tears for her future lover's pain overflowed.
"One day I will bring you comfort, for I have known your darkest hour. That road will not always bring you sorrow," Dena swore, "one day it will bring you my love."
Katrina was shaking her awake. They had all burned, and Dena knew Najilla would hate riding for a week. On the other hand, Dena knew wearing her armor was going to be a torment. She looked at the sun, and decided they'd been asleep almost three candle marks. Oh well.
They took a quick dip in the sea, washing off the olive oil and cooling their skin to stop the burning. Then they got dressed and went to town to decide on a place for Dena's birthday dinner, shaking out sand, and commenting on how red they'd gotten.
☼
Being locals, Katrina, Alyssa, and a sunburned Britney took Dena and Najilla to their absolutely favorite restaurant. It was a small, pricey, intimate dining room specializing in seafood...real seafood, rather than the oil permeated, over cooked, and nearly tasteless fish burgers so ubiquitous in seaside towns. It was nothing like Methain.
As she sat finishing her scallops poached in white wine and served in a mildly herbed cream sauce, Dena began to overhear a conversation at a table nearby. Though she wasn't really interested in eavesdropping, the words seemed to seek her attention, and soon the conversation at her own table faded as she focused her hearing.
"Excellent meal, Lasir, I am indebted by your hospitality. Now to business."
"The ceremony falls at the new moon, ten days hence."
"I well know the date, I crave assurance the arrangements are complete."
"They shall be completed tonight. My representative is meeting with the head priestess as we speak. I assure you, Zalek, nothing shall fail. This you may tell your lord.
"Lasir, his concern rests on the possibility of the priestess being discovered, or having a relapse of conscience, hehe. He shall gain much influence with completion of the ceremony."
"She shall have no such lapse, be assured. She is persuaded, believe me."
"The knowledge of what holds her cooperation would be an appreciated token of faith by my lord."
"I see. Then Lord Sikopolis should know that she is compelled by the captivity of her sister and sister's son, by the evidence of her past deceits on our behalf, and by the threat of poison in the water of the temple hospice. Oh yes, and by the threat of her own death, of course."
"My lord shall be pleased by the depth of your preparations."
"When he is given the Favor of the Goddess, your lord shall be second only to King Liasis himself."
"And that, my friend, is itself a problem to be overcome in time."
"I agree, for the king ages without an heir, and he celebrates his 64th birthday 12 days hence...it shall be a bitter celebration, I think."
"Lasir, my report shall bring my lord great relief. I shall speak well of your efforts."
"My thanks, Captain."
Dena couldn't understand all the references, but she knew a plot when she overheard one. The two things that underlined the gravity of what she'd heard were the mention of treason against King Liasis II and the fact that the plotters were liege-warriors. From their insignia she could see that Zalek was a Captain of the Second Army of Thessal, the other, Lasir, being assigned to the garrison of Athenae, was therefore of the First Army of Attica. To anyone else they would appear to be two soldiers relaxing on leave, recounting their actions in the service of the king. Dena discreetly watched them toast each other, pay their bill, and leave. These men were dangerous traitors. They had corrupted a priestess, kidnapped her kin, they were quite willing to commit murder, yet somehow she would find a way to stop them. Somehow, in the next ten days she intended to rescue the priestess's family members, remove her from the clergy she had betrayed, and save the hospice from a poisoned water supply. After that she would reveal the plotters to the king's justice. She needed to ask Najilla some questions about the temples in Athenae, and she was starting to get an idea for a plan.
Her friends had ordered some really ambitious drinks to go with a grilled whole fish stuffed with shrimp, and Dena delightedly joined them in devouring it. As someone had once said, respect the future, learn from the past, but live in the present. Dena intended to do just that, for tomorrow would be another day, but tonight was her birthday celebration, and after all, she had ten days to save the king, but she only turned 18 once in a lifetime.
☼
He watched his hand stroke the smooth surface with a sensitivity that was unmistakably a caress. There was strength in his hands, and it had been there all the years of his adulthood. For all those years his strength had served him well, yet never well enough, for though sufficient to keep millions in fear of him, his strength had never sufficed to keep the one he wanted in love with him. It was the paradox of their natures. Joined by the Spirit of Battle, parted by the Balance of Dark and Light, attracted as opposites always are, and repelled by a shared force. He had no doubt they were bound to a destiny together, and therein he perceived the cruelty of the Great Power. For what reason should he be afflicted by the obsessive love he felt when he was created to be the eternal villain in their endless play? The evil required of him would be so much easier to carry out if he had not this passion forever burning within his heart. That was it, he thought, why, in its infinite wisdom, had the Great Power given him a heart? A heart that warred against his nature and left him weak. For all the strength in his hands, the heart in his chest constrained him, and like the Spirit of Battle, to play out his part he needed to be able to focus his will undistracted. In the deep places of that traitorous heart he knew that if he didn't fight a total war he would certainly fail, and this was the Great Power's plan. It had happened before, and it would happen again. He could see no reason for the whole charade, except as mindless conflict. Here he allowed himself a grin. The Great Power generating mindless conflict...why, it was his own job on a larger scale. Could there be truth to the old saying, "As Above So Below"?
Below his hand the hull was iridescent and glass smooth, colored red like many before, yet unlike any ship before it bore an emblem. In black, emblazoned on top and bottom so it could be easily read, the sigil of the God of War branded this ship as his own. In decades of slow labor his new worshippers had created a warship very much like the Colonial Defense Forces warship Ares. Very much, yet not exactly, alike.
The New Kingdom had provided the means, and he the will and the knowledge. To achieve the building of the new warships some changes to the structure of the New Kingdom had been necessary. In the first centuries he had deluded and then deposed the Leadership. They had plotted against him and they had failed. Next he had restructured the military, and given his people a new direction. The New Kingdom had awakened the dormant darkness in him, and he had awakened the New Kingdom to a new light. Though he had lost the Balance, the Spirit of Battle had always been the source of his drive, and with it he inspired his people to dreams of conquest. Now they were convinced that by following him they would rule both Kingdoms, the old and the new. In the fifth century he had begun to drive them to the creation of the new warships, and he was almost pleased that Dale had destroyed all the old attack ships, for they had been inferior, and that would have been unacceptable. For almost 200 years they had labored on the new ships and the new weapons to arm them with. Now he could see the hulls before him, sixty-five similar warships, and each an improved version of the Ares.
His thoughts turned to Dale, usurper and Goddess of War, and with the long view of an immortal, he realized she had played a part as surely as had he. It seemed like yesterday, their duel on the launch field, and yet it had been 688 years ago. He had watched as she had lifted in his ship, accelerating into the heavens as the lasers had tracked the hull, and he was proud to see their failure. He knew that ship would show no mark from such an attack. Then he had felt it jump, and she was gone. At that time it had been the most advanced warship in the galaxy, and on its wings had fled a piece of his heart. As he had shaken off the last effects of the fireball she'd pinned him with, his own words had come back to haunt him, and he had perceived the great scope of destiny, of strategy on a scale so long none had comprehended it.
"And maybe one day, just maybe, oh say ten thousand years and a hundred lifetimes down the line, someone like Diana will manage to steal the chakram, and flee to the stars."
In sixty-four generations it had come to pass, and a cycle had been completed. In that he had found comfort, for he had the one clue he needed. Yet change too was the nature of the universe, and even a cycle could be altered. The chakrams symbolized the forces of dark and light that had been separated in the creation, and Ares believed their destruction, when joined, would obliterate that separation. The joining of the chakrams could only be done by someone who held the Balance of Dark and Light, but once joined, they could be destroyed by anyone with sufficient power. It had never been attempted, but Ares believed it was possible, for there was also a saying, "Ashes to Ashes, Dust to Dust". So it became a question of proper weapons and tactics...in other words, war. And he was the God of War. Realizing the first clue had confirmed his strategy as destiny. As his father had before, his "daughter of the ages" was also been driven by destiny, and as surely as Zeus, Dale had certainly fled with the chakram to Earth.
☼
In the dark of the Aegean night a million stars burned in the heavens, and below in an inn five souls slept the sleep of the drunk. After a few hours, one had burned away enough of the solvent in her blood that her eyes began to shift beneath her lids, and to her Morpheus brought the gift of dreams. Again it was a dream of the void, and Dena looked upon the beauty of the billion suns of creation, and tears came, born of the awe she felt at the manifestation of such power, in a work above our understanding of good or bad. The universe simply was. Its organization was the primary model, with change so slow as to be perceived as stasis, yet so constant as to overwhelm all in time. It was duplicated at every scale of creation. She drew near to a star, and it was a sun, and about it were planets, and she neared one, a Cardinal world with a giant moon. Then from the void there appeared 65 warships terminating their jumps, and they were marked with the sigil of war, and she could see their darkness. Then from below her, up from the planet, came a streak of red, blazing to blue-white, growing to a defender that came to challenge the warships above. And in the void there was war, and red ship fought red ship. Then came a squadron from the long wait of centuries, and 27 engaged in battle with 64, and flashes and destruction filled space around the Earth.
Dena found herself on a warship, and she was in command of that warship, and she knew it had once been the Ares. It was the Ides of March, but she didn't know the year. She had pushed the red button. The ship had taken her into battle where the words of the "Ancient One" returned to her, "Beware the God of War". She could feel him out there in his warship and she knew his ship was faster, more maneuverable, more powerful, and his victory was only a matter of time. Yet to lose was not an option, and there was no excuse for not being prepared.
Then she was watching the ships, and the ship Ares flew began to glow, and from it came a blast of darkness, and it struck her ship. Then the dream changed, and in the dark vault of night a constellation outlined itself, a ring encircling an s-curve, and it glowed revealing its shape. And the chakram began to spin, until it was just a glowing blur, streaking through the void, and from within it spoke the voices of all her ancestors.
"We shall bring you comfort, for we have seen your darkest hour. Only with love and faith can there be a cause for hope."
☼
Dena thought the day after her birthday was one of the worst of her life. As her head pounded and her skin screamed she briefly wished she were seventeen again. Najilla was worse. She lay in her stomach, her arms mantling her head, groaning at every sound, and cursing the daylight. Dena took the opportunity to question her, and neither enjoyed the conversation.
"Najilla, are you awake?"
"Only for the suffering...I will never eat fish again."
"What's the fish have to do with it? It's all those weird drinks Katrina kept ordering."
"I should kill her, wanna help?"
"Absolutely, but I need to ask you a couple things first."
"Nooo...no questions, please? We kill first, maybe tomorrow...I don't feel to well...questions later."
"Najilla, please. I need to know about the temples in Athenae, and a ceremony soon."
"Ohhhhhh."
"Najilla...?"
"Shhhhh. It hurts to think."
"I know where they work."
"Huhhhh?"
"Katrina, I know where she dances tonight, and tomorrow night."
"Ohhhhh."
"Najilla, answer me!"
"Owwwwwwww! Too loud, not fair."
"If you don't answer my questions I'm going to sing."
"Oh Gods no!"
Here Dena gritted her teeth against the pounding in her head and began humming a tuneless song. Najilla put her hands over her ears, them removed them when the pain of pressing on her head was worse than Dena's humming. It went on for a few minutes.
"Alright, alright, stop, please, or I won't live long enough to answer anything."
"So the ceremony, coming in nine days at a temple in Athenae...a head priestess is to name a Favorite of the Goddess."
"Huh? Where'd you hear that? You never had any interest in the worship or the calendar of ceremonies."
"Well, I need to know this now...humor me will ya?"
"It's the Choosing Ceremony, and it commemorates Dale officially choosing Val as her favorite. It's held at the equinox every spring, at the main temple of the Goddess of War in Athenae. Now good night."
"Wait a second! The person chosen, what do they get?"
"Well, mostly it's an honor. I guess the favorite that year has some influence, being as they are supposed to be a symbolic stand-in for the Goddess of History and Knowledge."
"That's it?"
"Look, this started after the deaths of the Goddesses, when people feared the return of the Years without Gods. They usually choose the most important warrior as Dale's stand-in, and a leading priestess, thinker, doctor, businessman, or something to be Val's."
"So who's Dale's?"
"It's been King Liasis II since he took the throne, and it was his father before that. That doesn't change."
"Who's Val's?"
"Right now it's the Seer of Attica, a priestess at the main Temple of the Goddess of History and Knowledge."
"And I guess they get along together?"
"They have to. The relationship between the stand-ins has to be good because discord between them is believed to herald the return of the dark years."
"Then I guess it's a good thing they don't fight or..."
"Dena, don't even think that! Most of the people in this country are completely convinced this is for real. The priestesses know it's just a festival and symbolic, but the average person really believes the country will fall apart if the stand-ins quarrel."
"You have got to be kidding!"
"Sadly not...Now Good Night!"
"Najilla, how'd you like to spend a week and a half without having to ride anywhere?"
Najilla actually raised her head to look at Dena, then thinking she'd heard wrong she put her head back down. Dena giggled, then cursed herself for the pain it caused.
"I think I'm going to need some time in Athenae, and we can walk there. Then I'd like to look around and stay for the ceremony."
"Yeah, right. You, at the Temples of the Goddesses? With all those priestesses and worshippers staring at you? And the incense making you sick? That's about as real as you actually becoming a priestess."
"Well, actually I was thinking about becoming the Goddess."
☼
CHAPTER 7: THE TEMPLES OF ATHENAE
The next morning they were on the road leading from Piraetum to Athenae, tormented by their sunburns, for the hangovers had receded. Behind them trailed their horses, happy to loaf for a day. Najilla had asked a lot of questions, and Dena had given her some answers. Now she had a good idea of the plot Dena had overheard, she just wasn't quite as clear on her plan to foil it. Najilla had been able to tell Dena about the Head Priestess of the Temple of the Goddess of War. Her name was Velora, and Najilla had heard she was a tyrannical bitch, although she'd never met her. She did have a sister with a seven-year-old son, so that detail fit. Velora had practically been raised in the temple, for her mother and grandmother had been Head Priestesses before her, yet like King Liasis II she had no heiress, and it seemed their lines would end. Najilla had heard she was in her mid-forties, had been excellent with her sword, and was the best informed living person about the Goddess of War.
After about two candle marks they reached the city of Athenae, and Dena was amazed by its size. Corinthia was a good sized city, and even Sparata was many times the size of Amphilios, but Athenae dwarfed all of them, for within its walls lived the major part of the population of Attica. Though in distant times this city had hosted greater numbers, in New Hellas, a city of nearly 750,000 was a metropolis. Dena could look from their viewpoint, and see the miles of walls, the massive gates, the watchtowers, and the markets. In the center, on its high hill, stood ruins so ancient they were accounted a wonder of the world. Below that hill, near the way that had once led through the Propylaia to the Acropolis, stood the temples of the Goddess of War, and the Goddess of History and Knowledge. They appeared to be grander versions of the original temples on Mt. Olympia.
"In the time of the Goddesses these temples were built to accommodate the Dale and Val when they came to the city. After their deaths, the temples on Mt. Olympia were abandoned, and pilgrims there are rare." Najilla said. "These are now the main temples of New Hellas. They will be very aware of you."
"That's the plan." Dena replied.
From the time they passed the gate of the city, Dena was the subject of much attention, for she was the image of the Goddess of War, and she came in the company of a priestess of the Goddess of War, eight days before the Choosing Ceremony. If some noticed the absence of the chakram or her sunburn, few grumbled, for the hope of the return of the Goddesses was great. Indeed, the most frequent question, yelled from those they passed, was if the Goddess of History and Knowledge would also soon appear. They answered nothing, and made their way directly to the temple.
When they were still some distance away, they were met by a company of priestesses of the Goddess of War, who knelt in greeting, and then escorted them to the temple. Dena completely convinced them, and as they stood on the steps before entering, she played out another part of her plan, addressing the gathering crowd.
"People of New Hellas, hear my words. Your faith is your strength. The Goddesses hear the voices of your hearts, and your devotion shall be rewarded in this life and the next. Faith with hope, honor with courage, devotion with victory, betrayal with death."
As the crowd cheered, Dena and Najilla, escorted by 16 priestesses, climbed the steps and entered the temple. They were greeted by the Velora, the Head Priestess, her Priestess Inquisitor, Chalara, and many of the priestesses of the temple. All bowed in greeting and Dena saluted them, right fist above her heart. Then she went to the altar, below another huge statue of Dale that looked exactly like her, and she put incense in the brazier, avoiding the smoke as much as possible. She made a point of neither kneeling nor bowing. Then she turned to the life-size statue of Val that flanked the altar, kissed her fingertips, and gently touched them to the figure's lips. The temple was silent behind her.
Later, she sat with Najilla, Velora, and Chalara, in a conference room behind the altar, asking and answering questions. Throughout the conference, Chalara became more excited as Dena revealed details Val had shown her on Olympia that were unknown, and Velora became more nervous. Dena took a subtle offensive, from time to time pinning the Head Priestess with her gaze as she spoke.
"Dale Sherril came to the world of Dell at the age of nine, and met Valerie Havarr. They were soon best friends. In their last year of school, Val discovered the knowledge of the disbanded Colonial Defense Forces, and together they learned the ways of those warriors. After a conflict at school they were jailed, escaped, and made their way to the world of Terminus Prime in a stolen starship. There they became the pupils of the God of War. Shortly afterwards they followed him to battle in the void.
"The Kingdom of Man had fallen from the Balance of Dark and Light, renouncing the Spirit of Battle, and those who saw the evil in this were exiled. In their New Kingdom, these exiles forged a power, and built an armada, and eventually destroyed their enemies. Soon they too had lost the balance. Then the dark of the New Kingdom fell upon the light of the Old, and the slaughter drove the God of War to battle. Now accompanied by his favorites they defeated the New Kingdom, but at the crucial hour, Ares fell into darkness. Then Dale took up the mantle of the Goddess of War, retrieved the chakram, and now the Balance of Dark and Light lived in her. She destroyed the attack ships of the New Kingdom and defeated Ares in combat.
"Through all this we see the evil that accompanies the abandonment of the Balance, and the defeat of those who cleave to either of its single forces. Betrayal of this first principal of balanced force will always bring death, be it of the body, or the soul, or the spirit." Here Dena fixed her gaze again on Velora and saw her squirm, then she continued.
"Know that what happens in the universe happens also in the hearts of men, and the work of Gods is like the work men. Even the Great Power acts in a similar fashion, for events are driven by imagination and will, only the scale of power is greater. King Liasis II has followed the Goddesses' teachings in his rule, and has achieved a balance of force and mercy in New Hellas, greater than at any time since the rule of the Goddesses. To oppose him would be to abandon the balance of man, and that of the Goddesses, and that of the Great Power itself. I have come because I feel the rise of forces plotting against the king, and I shall not allow them to succeed."
"Someone is plotting treason against the king?" Chalara asked in horror, "Who?"
"It begins with the ambition of a noble, abetted by discontents in the army, but it will end here," Dena answered, watching Valora paling out of the corner of her eye, "the plot threatens all, but its first threat we will avert today. I direct you to close the hospice and relocate the patients among the hospices of the city."
Chalara and Velora stared at her while her words sunk in. Finally Najilla spoke.
"Do not defy the will of the Goddess, for the lives you save will number in the tens of thousands, and the safety of the nation is at stake."
Finally it was Chalara who answered. "It shall be done. Those in the hospice will be moved."
"Excellent," Dena said, "I know this cannot be done in a day, for there are hundreds in the hospice. While any still remain within, post your best fighters to guard the water supply."
By this point Dena could detect Velora trembling, and so she pressed her attack.
"Chalara, I need to confer with the Head Priestess about our plans, would you and Najilla please begin the arrangements."
Najilla and the Priestess Inquisitor withdrew, leaving Dena alone with a very nervous Velora. Dena wanted to continue to apply pressure and compound her guilt, and at the same time keep her from undermining her response at the hospice. Dena kept the Head Priestess off balance.
"Velora, tell me of your sister."
The Head Priestess looked at her, eyes as big as saucers. She was visibly trembling, debating within whether or not to confess all, for nothing seemed to have escaped the Goddess, and her appearance just before the Ceremony of Choosing couldn't be coincidence. Already she was sick with worry about her sister and nephew, and the threat to the hospice had been making her weak with guilt. Alone against Lord Sikopolis' henchmen she had been paralyzed by the threats, and had been contemplating suicide. The moments stretched on in silence as she wrestle with her fear and her conscience.
"Velora, tell me of Captain Zalek of the Army of Thessal."
Velora choked. Was their plot so transparent, or had the betrayers been themselves betrayed? Then the full impact of what was happening struck her like a bolt from a ballista. The plan to increase the influence of Lord Sikopolis would bring ruin to the nation, and before her sat the incarnation of the Goddess of War, driven to action in part by her own cowardice and treachery. For many generations her family had served the Goddess, and she was the third Head Priestess. The small favors she had done for certain nobles had gotten out of hand, each being used against her to secure the next. By increments she had sold her honor, mocking the trust so many gave her, but worst of all, she had betrayed the Goddess, and she realized it was her own lack of faith that had allowed it to happen. Tears began to fill her eyes as she felt the disappointment of her ancestors. Finally they overflowed.
"Velora, I cannot allow the Ceremony of Choosing to be debased in the service of a mortal's ambition. I cannot allow a challenge to the right king of New Hellas to be born in my temple. I cannot allow your participation in the destruction of the fragile balance he has achieved. I give you this choice for your life is already forfeit, for by the plotters' hands or my own you shall surely die if you do not abandon this scheme and aid me. Your life is mine and I shall use it better than you yourself have. By your choice your life shall be remembered and your soul shall be judged."
Under the steady gaze of the Goddess the sobbing priestess slowly fell from her chair and collapsed on the floor. Her world had fallen into rubble in the space of a candle mark since the Goddess had appeared in Athenae, yet already a threat was being removed...two really, for now the threat against her own life was moot. Finally she composed herself enough to speak.
"Goddess, I have nothing left but regrets and guilt. I would save the lives of my sister and her son if I could. For myself I ask nothing. Use my hands as you will, for my will shall be your will."
☼
"So what's it like traveling with the Goddess?" Chalara asked Najilla as they headed for the hospice with a detail of 16 priestesses armed for battle.
"Well I've learned a lot of things, and I've seen a lot of places." Najilla told her. "Mostly she's pretty normal, but she's definitely the Goddess. In Sparata we were in this fight..."
"She threw fireballs?"
"No, she didn't have to. She did get this weird look in her eyes, and then she was flipping over people, and she killed all five of our attackers with as many strokes. It only took seconds. It was the most terrifying thing I have ever seen."
"So did you meet her at Olympia, or did she appear in the temple at Therma?"
"No, actually she came guarding the refugees from the barbarian attacks. She was originally from Amphilios and..."
"Amphilios? Najilla, what do you know about that town?"
"It's just a trading town in eastern Macedon, not far from the border of Thracae, why?"
"That town is ancient, Najilla, some reckon it over 11,000 years old. But the reason we remember it is that it's where the "Ancient One" came from all those ages ago. Najilla, we don't even know her right name, and she is only referred to a couple times, but some believe she was the original source of the Goddesses."
"Really? She's the one called Xena that appears in her dreams. Dena says she only comes to her on the fields of her battles, and her spirit is hard, but she does seem to be the strongest, and speaks before the others."
"Dena really looks like the statues of the Goddess Dale." Chalara said, entranced by the insights Najilla was sharing.
"No," Najilla said, "they all look exactly like Xena."
☼
In the darkest hour two nights before the new moon, a shadow slipped through a window and crossed in the shadows to the bed where the Head Priestess lay sleeping. He bent over her, and the sliver of moon reflected off the blade he brought to her throat. Then he clamped his hand over her mouth and shook her awake. He was to pressure her, for the removal of the patients from the hospice was a clear attempt to change sides, and he was here to remind her of the fate her sister and nephew would meet. In the dark he saw her eyes open, but there was no dullness of sleep, and he thought he'd never noticed Velora's eyes were blue. Then, although his reflexes were sharp and the blade was already placed, he found himself on the floor, his arm broken. She had attacked the nerves in his neck. He was paralyzed, and couldn't even breathe.
"I have cut off the nerves below your neck, and you will asphyxiate unless I release you."
She was standing above him, and his terror was complete, for he would surely die. The figure above him was not Velora, but the Goddess of War herself. He nearly passed out.
"Oh no you don't," she said, striking a nerve just below his ear, "you're staying awake for this. Now tell me where they are."
A candle mark later, in a shoddy part of town, a man dressed as a thief, cloaked and masked, was found by a shopkeeper on his way to work. The man could have fallen trying to burglarize a second story shop, for his arm was broken, yet the building housed only a factory for dyeing cloth. Later he was discovered to have been a liege-warrior of the Army of Attica, and he had died for lack of air.
In another part of town six warriors guarded a woman and her son. The building was on a quiet street and none came to visit, for the house belonged to a minor noble in the service of Lord Sikopolis. They were bored, having held this duty for almost two weeks, rotating in shifts of three, and soon they would kill both hostages, for they knew too much. Suddenly there came a demanding knock on the door. A warrior went down the hall to check it, leaving two companions on guard while three more rested upstairs. He put his foot behind the door and opened it a crack. No one was there, so he shut the door, double-checking the lock. He was extremely suspicious.
Dena watched him from a window that looked into the hall. He turned to walk back, and Dena slipped away, backing up several paces. Under her breath she counted to five, figuring he would pass the window at the last count. Total war, she thought, calling on the Spirit of Battle. Then she counted off the paces at a dead run, and launched herself through the window in a tuck and roll.
She came through the window right behind him, and in that instant he knew what had happened. He was still turning, drawing his sword, when some one struck him from the opposite side, slamming his body into the wall so hard he dropped to the floor. Dena had rolled, come to her feet still moving, and launched herself as high as she could jump. Her hands struck the wall just below the ceiling, and she pushed off hard, legs bent. She came down on the soldier as her legs snapped out, both legs kicking him and driving him head first into the wall. She recovered, and noted sounds both upstairs and down the hall. Since the guard had been returning down the hall she moved that direction, closing the distance in three strides. She cleared the doorframe drawing her sword, and immediately slammed it through the door, hearing the groan as the blade pinned someone behind it to the wall. Across from her a warrior held his sword above a woman and boy, but he had a second of hesitation as she turned towards him...it was the Goddess of War. Something struck him hard in the chest. He knew the hostages were no longer his concern, for as he looked down to see the hilt of a throwing dagger in his chest, he realized his part in the game had ended in defeat.
Dena stayed just long enough to see the sword falling from his hand. Then she was out the door and moving down the hall towards the staircase. Six strides and the banister was three feet above her head. Two more and she leapt, reaching to grab the railing and haul herself over onto the stairs. She was halfway up, and above her there was movement. A warrior came out of a room, calling to those below.
"They're dead." Dena told him as she threw the second dagger, and his words drowned in a gurgle of blood as the blade pierced his throat. She pulled his sword from its scabbard as she passed him and saw two more warriors coming out of the room he'd left earlier.
The first warrior had cleared the door when he stopped dead, his companion running into his back. Rapidly moving towards him was the last person he'd ever expected to see. His mind registered that they were being assaulted by the Goddess of War herself. Then she did the last thing he'd ever expected her to do. In mid-stride she spun a sword, reversing the grip, and she launched it at him like a javelin. The blade struck him, ramming through his belly, and continuing to the hilt. It was long enough to have impaled them both. The Goddess didn't even honor them by watching their deaths. Instead, she was turning back to vault the stair railing and return to cut the hostages free.
They left shortly, Dena, two freed hostages, and the first guard, his hands bound, walking unsteadily as his head cleared from its impact in the hall. Dena couldn't wait for the interrogation. He couldn't understand how this could be happening. To him the whole history of the Goddesses had always been hogwash.
☼
On the night before the new moon two figures entered the Temple of the Goddess of History and Knowledge. One was dressed in the robes of a priestess of the Goddess of War. The other was cloaked and hooded. The priestess brought her companion to the center of the temple, before the statue of Valerie Havarr, and there requested an audience with the Seer of Attica. When she appeared she came to the visitors and her attention was riveted on the tall anonymous figure, from which she felt a radiance of power. The figure came towards her, and appraised her with such intensity that she was frozen in place, and she felt herself transparent. She did not waver.
"You have a true heart, and true faith," the figure said, "I would have you for another year as the representation of my favorite."
Then the figure reached up and pulled back the hood, and she was revealed. The Seer of Attica, though she saw many visions, had only heard the rumor of the return of the Goddess of War, yet here she stood before her. And then, before all the priestesses standing near, she kissed the tips of her fingers, and as she had done that first day in Athenae, she touched them to the lips of the stand-in for her favorite, removing all doubt as to her choice.
☼
"So Dena, the plan goes forward flawlessly." Najilla said, as they stood together in the temple watching the final preparations for the ceremony.
"Well, the easy parts have been a success," Dena replied, to Najilla's astonishment, "now for the exposure of the plot. I guess our hostage will be helpful."
"So you'll be with Velora when she names the Seer again as the Chosen?"
"No, she'll do what she's been told. After our visit to the Seer last night the word is out that I have given her my favor. The ceremony is really only a formality this year. No, I have to protect the king...he's in attendance, and when the Chosen is named, I think he'll be attacked as a last option by the plotters."
"Assassins?" Najilla was horrified to think of anyone assaulting the king, and especially in the temple.
"Afraid so. When Lord Sikopolis' plans fail, I believe his henchmen will be desperate enough. I think they already know what his wrath will be like, and they may have some suspicions about mine. Anyway, I expect they don't feel they have much to lose. It's what I'd do."
Najilla shivered. She had work to do tonight as well, another part of the plan. She left Dena and went to get ready.
The Temple of the Goddess of War had seen many crowds over the years, but never had so many gathered as did tonight. The Ceremony of Choosing was a major event, but tonight many had come to catch a glimpse of the rumor they had heard, for the news that the Goddess of War had returned had spread widely in the last week. Perhaps half the city was in the streets before the temple, and within, the crowd was packed. In a section to the right of the altar the First and Second Corps of Liege-Warriors of the First Army of New Hellas held back the crowds, for in the center of their cordon sat the throne pall of King Liasis II and upon the throne sat the king. Above him a baldachin had been erected, painted on its underside with the night sky. About the king's throne were gathered nobles from various states, many with a handful of retainers. Among these, Dena's eyes picked out the weasely figure of Lord Sikopolis, perhaps a dozen feet to the king's right, and among his followers, stood Captain Zalek and five liege-warriors. By their placement they could easily watch the altar, being closer to it than the king himself, and they were shielded from the full view of the crowds by the king's throne.
Dena pulled the cloak closer about her shoulders, and began to edge slowly around the cordon. She needed to be within quick striking distance of Sikopolis and his men. After some maneuvering Dena was able to approach the cordon of liege-warriors to the right of the king, about six feet from Lord Sikopolis and about twenty feet from Liasis II. Not close enough, she thought, it would require a standing leap over the warriors and a stride and a half, too far. She would probably have to depend on her throwing daggers if it fell to her to act. From behind her there was a disturbance, and an honor guard of eight priestesses of the temple marched through the cordon, approaching and finally standing behind the throne and symbolically guarding the king's back.
As the crowd finished settling itself, there came a fanfare of trumpets, and the temple grew quiet. From behind the statue of the Goddess, the Head Priestess and her attendants entered and proceeded to the front of the altar to start the ceremony. Velora knelt before the altar and offered incense. Then she rose, making a ceremonial bow, and turned to salute the king. Dena studied her, and decided she seemed calm, dignified, and in control. The ceremony opened with the priestess recounting the origins of the Goddess and the ceremony.
Dena's mind wandered, her eyes absorbing the situation, observing the crowd. She quickly checked to see if Najilla was ready, and their eyes met. Najilla winked. Dena returned her attention to the plotters and she noticed that Zalek had worked his way to the edge of Sikopolis' entourage closest to the king. Now Dena knew her suspicions were correct. Zalek had managed to get within seven feet of the throne. He'll try to close in another two feet before he attacks and his forward movement will be my signal, she thought.
At the altar the Head Priestess was concluding her opening. Now she would proclaim the name of this year's chosen.
"Hear now the choice of the Goddess, for as was once, so shall it ever be, for the reign of the Goddesses is eternal, and each Goddess claims the love of her chosen that the balance shall be sustained. Behold people of faith for the time of choice is at hand and the will of the Goddess shall be heard.
"This year the Chosen of the Goddess of War is Lacerya, Priestess of the Goddess of History and Knowledge, and..."
Dena saw Zalek move as soon as the Head Priestess spoke Lacerya's name, and she launched herself over the liege-warrior standing next to her. He made a lunge for the space where she had stood but was way too late. She had a throwing dagger in her hand before she landed, and as she saw Zalek reach for his sword hilt she flung it into his shoulder. He was within striking range of the king when several things happened. The liege-warriors of the cordon closest to her grabbed Dena, but she spun away leaving them with her cloak, revealing herself. From above, a body crashed through the baldachin, the rope around its waist snapping the drop to a halt a foot above the floor directly in front of the throne, and the liege-warriors accompanying Lord Sikopolis began to draw weapons. The eight priestesses behind the throne leapt to surround the king, drawing their weapons to face off against anyone who threatened him. In the confusion Dena seized the advantage.
"All stand and hold your weapons! There is treason here against the King and the Goddess!" Dena proclaimed, and without her cloak, most believed they were being commanded by the Goddess herself. Those who had seen her moving seconds ago were convinced of it. A few of the plotters hedged nervously, and Lord Sikopolis looked bored.
"Let none defy the words of the Goddess," the Head Priestess said from the altar, right on cue.
Dena moved towards the body hanging from the rope, and the figure struggled in alarm at her approach. She reached up and yanked the gag off his mouth, and with the king watching closely, she stabbed the sides of his neck with her fingertips. Then speaking loudly enough for everyone to hear, she questioned him.
"I have cut off the flow of oxygen to your brain. In thirty seconds you will die if you do not speak. I can kill you with a single finger, but you can die without a word. Know that your torment will be for all time, and your soul shall be stripped and burned in the eternal fires of Tartarus, and I shall deliver your torment myself. Will you speak?"
The man was the first guard of the hostages and he was in mortal terror of Dena following his earlier experiences. He shook his head 'yes'.
"Very good. How did you first come to the attention of the Goddess of War?"
"I was taken prisoner when she freed hostages held against the Head Priestess."
At this the king rose from his throne and the Priestesses closed a circle around him, swords pointing out in all directions.
"And for what reason were the hostages being held?" Dena asked.
At this, one of Sikopolis' liege-warriors raised a dagger to throw. Whether aimed at Dena or the captive, even Dena couldn't be sure. Suddenly an arrow slammed into his chest, driving him back. It had come through the same hole in the baldachin the prisoner had been dropped through, and looking up Dena saw Najilla knocking another arrow in her bow. She had Lord Sikopolis at arrow point, and when he looked up he was staring eye to eye with her down the shaft. The warrior she had shot finally crumpled to the floor shot straight through the heart, blood gushing rhythmically from around the arrow.
"Answer, I command you!" King Liasis II roared, "For what were the hostages held?"
"My Lord," the prisoner said, for by his own count he was at 27 seconds, "they were to ensure the choice of Lord Sikopolis as Chosen."
Dena stabbed the sides of his neck with her fingers, releasing the nerve attack.
King Liasis II though only days from his 64th birthday was a strong ruler and stronger in his will. He had dealt with traitors before, but never had a plot been so well concealed that he had had absolutely no foreknowledge. Now the dark side of the balance rose within him, and though he didn't know how widely the plot extended he would take no chances.
"General Calais, seize Lord Sikopolis and his entourage, take this prisoner with you. Do not take them to the Athenae barracks. Take them to the royal dungeons. They are to be held in irons and chains at star points, and guarded only by handpicked liege-warriors under your command."
"By your command My Lord." The general responded, without hesitation.
General Calais had served King Liasis II since before he had conquered Thessal 37 years before, and would gladly chain the treasonous bastards by the wrists, ankles, and neck, and stretch them across a star shaped frame which could be spun. No one below the rank of a captain would guard these prisoners, and those would be officers to whom he had already trusted his own life in battle.
So it came to pass, in the 37th year of the reign of King Liasis II, the 223rd year after the Deaths of the Goddesses, that people reckon the reappearance of the Goddess of War. Dena became a hero in Athenae, and she and Najilla earned honor from their king, and the love of the people. In time bards sang ballads of their triumphs, and among all their tales, the story of "Dena's First Triumph Over Treason" remained ever a favorite. In the next two years Dena and Najilla roamed New Hellas as private warriors under the king's blessing, and they did many acts in the service of the Greater Good, both large and small. But like all things, even the Reign of the Goddesses, good things too must end, and the next tale is a sad one, for in it the heroic priestess of the Goddess of War loses her life. "Yet in death one may conquer, though the victory is celebrated with pain and tears..." and so Najilla, Priestess of Therma, is accorded honor and renown by the souls in the Fields of Elysia, until the end of days.
☼
CHAPTER 8: MOHEGALA THE RED KHAN
This is the tale of the destruction of the barbarians of the eastern steppes, and although there remained afterwards some scions of that kingdom, still their power was broken, and never since have they arisen to threaten New Hellas. It was the Year of Our Lord 9,412, the 39th year of the reign of King Liasis II, right king of New Hellas, and the 225th year since the Deaths of the Goddesses. In the lands there had been peace more than war, the rule of law more than lawlessness, and prosperity more than privation. For the last two years the heroes, Dena of Amphilios and Najilla of Therma, had increased in renown, and their adventures in the service of the Greater Good had inspired bards in taverns across the land. It has been wondered why Dena did not claim residence at Olympia as the reincarnation of the Goddess of War, but her time had not yet arrived, for there were still lessons for her to learn, and she was still a mortal woman.
All seemed well, yet before the leaves fell there would be war, and great devastation, and the deaths would be numbered in the hundreds of thousands. To the east the barbarians had fought amongst themselves for the two years following their defeat by the Third Army of New Hellas, the Army of Macedon, for their ruler, the Khan, had died, and the succession drew challengers like hyenas. Yet finally, into the vacuum rose Mohegala, the Red Khan, bloodthirsty, merciless, craving power above all else, and completely consumed by the darkness in his soul. And having consolidated his power, he regrouped his armies, and he premeditated the destruction of his peoples' ancient enemies to the west.
"The human capacity to find conflict is endless. There are hatreds simmering the world over, ancient and recent. At any time they can come to the surface..." -Ancient quote attributed to Xena: Goddess of War, Year of Our Lord 2,006.
In the spring he mustered his army, and he called for the blessings of his Gods, and he sacrificed many prisoners to ensure his success. Then with the smoke of the offering pyres still rising into the heavens, he led his men to war. They crossed the steppes, gaining in numbers as the local militias were conscripted, until they approached the Straits of Constantine in early May, their army 180,000 strong. It is said that the ground trembled under the hooves of their cavalry, and the land was scoured under the boots of their foot soldiers. Their own people fled before them, and desolation followed in their wake. Not since the Years without Gods had such a force moved to battle. Mohegala and his generals were confident, for they knew that New Hellas maintained five standing armies, each of three divisions, and each division numbered 6,000 men; 90,000 total, plus a scattering of private armies and warriors, making perhaps another division under various commands.
As the sun rose behind them on the 7th of May, the 1,000 trumpets of the Red Khan blew a fanfare, and then, led by shadows that shortened before they had all passed, the army of Mohegala crossed the border and besieged New Hellas with war.
From town to town, and garrison to garrison the warning of invasion was passed, by horseman, or runner, or the flashing of bright reflections off swords. Swiftly Mohegala's army advanced, yet swifter still did the warning pass, and in but four day's time the news of war was heard in Athenae by the king. Within the hour he had ordered the massing of the armies, and again he chose the city of Therma as the staging ground, for the plain about the city was wide, and the harborage was good. On the next day, the first divisions of the Army of Attica took ship, and in the following days so to did the armies of Thessal, Macedon, and Peloponnesia.
Though the king was in his 66th year, the state of his people and his nation was always his first concern, and so, being a good king and an honorable man, he put away his ceremonial sword, and his robes of office, and took up the battle sword with which he had once united the kingdom. On his armor was the Eagle of Attica that flew on the pennants of the First Army, for Liasis II would go again to war as its First General. In the hours before he boarded his ship with his officers he wrote several letters, calling on the loyalty and patriotism of the private armies and requesting aid. Also he wrote a letter to the Goddess of War, praying for her blessing and guidance, and requesting her presence in battle to inspire the troops. This letter he committed to the Head Priestess of the Temple of the Goddess of War, but he sent the message by military channels as well. Then, doubting that he would survive, yet unwilling to send others where he himself feared to tread, this noble king sailed into the east to lead his armies to war.
☼
The night was ending, and on the eastern horizon there was a hint of a glow that promised the rising of the sun. The clouds, hanging like ghosts in the last of the darkness above, would soon be roused by Helios to shades of crimson, pink, and blue. Atop the eastern walls of the town of Amphilios, Dena and Najilla sat close together, side by side, waiting to view the sunrise. It was the 9th of May. After two years of adventures Dena had desired to visit her mother, and as the land had been at peace, they had arrived a few days before to a warm welcome at the rebuilt inn. Cyrea had been overjoyed, even welcoming Najilla as a daughter, and this touched her deeply, for she had been brought to the temple as a year-old orphan and had never known her own kin.
In the last hour of their journey to Amphilios, as they crossed the Stryma River Vale, Dena had been increasingly nervous, unsure what her mother's reception would be. Najilla had tried to cheer her, and had succeeded in getting her to smile as she told the priestess some stories of her childhood. The two had become closest friends in the two years they had traveled together, each knowing the other would risk their life for her, and each cherishing the traded life debts they had accumulated.
Dena had continued to dream, being visited by many of her "ancestors", and learning much about her pasts. Najilla too had begun to dream, and her dreams caused her trepidation, for among her past incarnations was a crusader, possessed from childhood by spirits she had called the jinn. And between this "Crusader", and Dena's "Ancient One" there had been conflict over methods, and competition for the heart of Xena's beloved Gabrielle. Many campfires had witnessed their discussions about this issue, yet in the present there was no conflict, for where the Goddess led, the Priestess would follow, and their mutual devotion was implicit. Both felt the calling of the Spirit of Battle, and both were driven to the service of the Greater Good, and if neither yet held the perfect balance, it was an ideal and a goal for them both. In this lifetime they were of one heart, and yet they were not lovers, for both understood Dena's destiny, and looked towards her reunion with the 65th reincarnation of the Bard. But though they were not lovers, they had no discomfort over physical contact, and so against the morning's chill they leaned into each other and each wrapped an arm around the other's shoulders, speaking softly together as they awaited the dawn. Such scenes of physical contact, often witnessed by those around them, compounded by the fact of their desirable appearances, led to the ambiguity about their relationship that recurs, in stories about them, as subtext.
Now with the singing of the first birds came a lightening of the sky, and the promise of the clouds was fulfilled in colors fleeting and wondrous, that reflected from the heavens to tint the land below. It shone on their faces as the radiance in the east intensified and the sun's disc lit the horizon with the coming of the day. Then, as she had years before on the road to Therma, Dena saw flashes from the highlands to the northeast, where an outpost of the Army of Thracae kept watch on the coast. The flashes cried a warning, and her heart pounded in horror at the words that she read. When the message began to repeat she leapt to her feet, and Najilla, having followed the focus of her eyes and read the words of the message as well, joined her and they roused the entire garrison in the last candle mark of the third watch.
As the morning progressed the garrison received word that they were to withdraw, and soon the westerly road was clogged with refugees, again fleeing the barbarians from the east. With these refugees came the greater part of the garrison of Neopolis, and even many soldiers from Avdira yet further east. And these soldiers carried a count of the enemy taken by troops from Maronae who had been unable to flee, for the flashes that gave wings to their reports out flew the advance of the attackers. Then the message was sent speeding on to the next watch point and the next, until just two days hence it would be heard by the king himself. But the message spared no false hopes, and the enemy forces were said to cover the land in numbers never seen before, and they were unstoppable. To oppose them with the available forces would be suicidal, and so the soldiers of the Army of Thracae were busy assisting refugees, and when these were gone, they poisoned the water supplies and the crops they could not burn. Then they booby-trapped the road, breaking the bridges behind them when they finally withdrew.
Dena and Najilla went to the inn, and they found Cyrea already starting to close and pack, making her preparations for flight with silent tears. Both spent the rest of the morning shuttering the building and aiding their neighbors, for having been so long on the road their own packing was a simple matter of minutes. The people of Amphilios were reliving the terror of the invasion just three years before, and they went light, knowing the hardship of the road to Therma through the highlands. By the start of the second watch they were ready, and they mounted their horses, and they left the inn, Cyrea riding one of her pack horses, the other two bearing mostly food and clothing.
They joined the stream of refugees, crossing the Stryma River and climbing the foothills of the highlands to the west. The column of people stretched mile after mile, their numbers much greater than three years before. But this time the soldiers would not wait for reinforcements. Rather they would proceed to the muster of the armies at Therma, assisting the flight of the civilians. They figured that even if the larger crowd spent seven rather than six days marching, still they would reach Therma by the 16th of May, while the armies would not be there at full strength before the 24th. During the three weeks between the start of the invasion and the beginning of the counterattack, the army of Mohegala was expected to advance to the coast of Chalcidic, the same area in which their last defeat had begun. By the evening of the first day's march the entire column had cleared the Stryma Vale, made their way into the highlands above, and pitched their first camp.
☼
The days of May passed too quickly it seemed, but just past mid-month, nine days after the invasion began, the refugees had safely reached Therma. The remains of the Fifth Army of New Hellas, the Army of Thracae, built their encampment outside the city walls, and their strength was reduced to 8,500 men at arms, and 1,800 liege-warriors. 7,700 of the king's soldiers had died as Thracae was overrun, and their comrades hatred of the invaders boiled in a red rage, for always it was the Fifth Army that bore the brunt of their assaults.
In the morning of May 17th the first of the king's armada arrived at the port of Therma, bearing the First and Second Divisions of the Army of Attica, and with them came the king. Dena and Najilla watched from the walls of the city as the army enlarged its encampment, and they saw the pennant of the First General raised over a large tent at its center. They sent word of their presence to the king. Cyrea found herself welcomed at the inn in which she had stayed three years before, and the owners were only too happy to have her experienced help again, for the city was packed with people. Both Dena and Cyrea hoped to see Taris when the Army of Macedon completed its arrival. Najilla had met with the Head Priestess at the Temple of the Goddess of War, and she found she had become something of a legend. She found the deference of her sister priestesses amusing. She found the absolute awe with which they regarded Dena hysterical. Diana, the Priestess Inquisitor was stranger than ever, for now she spent most of her time besotted with incense and dreaming. In the evening of the 17th of May, a messenger came to the inn and informed Dena and Najilla that their presence was requested by the king, for he asked for their council, and he had some ideas to discuss.
During the next week the ships of the king's armada choked the port, and the army debarked to camp beside the walls of Therma. Taris briefly visited Dena and Cyrea on the 21st of May, the day after the arrival of the Second Division of the Army of Thessal. The last of the king's army arrived in Therma on the 24th, and the palisade of the encampment stretched for miles around the tents of 82,300 soldiers. Never before had the full armed forces of New Hellas converged since the kingdom was founded, and the valley rang as the troops drilled, with the clash of swords, the marching of boots, and the testing of artillery.
On the 24th of May the Red Khan, Mohegala, stood on the shores of the Stryma River and burned 200 of the king's soldiers alive, as an offering of thanks to his gods. The gains that had taken three weeks in the last invasion took only 17 days this time, due to his vastly superior force and the lack of resistance as the Fifth Army fell back. As he stood watching the offering the Red Khan smiled, for his gods would be pleased by the screams and the struggling of the sacrifices.
On the 25th of May, Dena bid her mother goodbye, and at the request of the king, she and Najilla rode into the highlands to the east of Therma in search of allies most did not believe existed. For the first fifteen miles, watchers in the highlands flashed messages of good luck to them, and reported their progress to the city. Beyond that limit they were back in the wild highlands, but soon they left the path they had taken with the refugees, and headed north, skirting Lake Koronae. The sun shone bright through the trees, and birds called in the woods. They rode in haste, encumbered only with weapons and a little food, and on the second day they passed Lake Diora, and left the realm of New Hellas. These lands were untraveled by command of Dale, the Goddess of War, and no citizen or soldier of New Hellas had set foot here since before the nation's founding.
In the afternoon of the second day they rode through heavy wooded uplands, and Dena had raised her hand to slow Najilla, feeling the presence of others nearby. As she passed the trunk of a great tree an arrow passed no more than an inch before her horse, and embedded itself in the trunk. Immediately she halted, and reaching from her saddle pulled the bolt free.
It was a long arrow, black shafted, and tri-fletched, and the head was of bronze, heavy enough to penetrate armor. It was unlike Najilla's smaller arrows, and Dena knew the bow that shot it would have to have been very long, over six feet in height. Yet Dena detected no movement in the woods, and the shooter's stealth was complete. Dena held the arrow and closed her eyes, reaching out with her inner senses until, at 30 yards she felt a heartbeat. Her eyes snapped open, and there, eighteen feet above the ground was a blind, cunningly made so as to be invisible in the branches. Unseen within it would be a single archer, yet the blind was only a yard wide and less than two feet high, not even large enough to hide the weapon.
"Hear me! We come in peace as emissaries of King Liasis II, right lord of New Hellas," Dena called to the archer, "we seek an audience with the queen!"
"Who comes here in the guise of the Goddess," a voice called from another direction.
"Craving audience with the queen?" called a voice from yet another direction.
"For what would you disturb us," a third voice called from behind them.
"After the passing of so many lives?" a voice called from almost above them.
It was profoundly disturbing, for they knew they were surrounded, and though they knew the directions the voices had spoken from, there was still no one to be seen. Such stealth, Dena thought, King Liasis II was right to hope for aid from such warriors.
"I am Dena, Heiress of the Goddess of War, and my companion is Najilla of Therma, my priestess. We seek council and aid in our nation's darkest hour, and we beseech your queen to hear us."
"If you are the Goddess of War, then show us the chakram." Said yet another voice.
"I am the Heiress, not the Goddess. I have inherited the Spirit of Battle, but the Balance does not reside in me, and the resting place of the chakram is unknown."
"The Spirit of Battle is yours you claim? We would see proof by testing."
Dena felt the air compression of the arrow and leapt straight up, out of her saddle to grasp a branch above, and swinging her body around it, she launched herself up and back. Sixteen feet above their horses, and in the tree just behind them she slammed feet first through another archer's blind, grabbing the archer, and bringing them both to the ground. By the time they landed, Dena had struck the archer in the back of the neck, paralyzing her from the neck down. Najilla had leapt from her horse, and now stood between her horse and a tree, her bow bent, aiming an arrow behind Dena, covering her back.
"Speak, by the Goddess I command you." Dena demanded.
"She has evaded and attacked with nerve point techniques, I cannot move below the neck, such is the prowess of the Spirit of Battle."
For a minute there was no movement, but a succession of bird calls moving off into the distance were heard, growing fainter until the faded into the north, then, one by one, eight warriors dropped from blinds on all sides. They were all women, dressed in suede, decorated with beads and feathers, and they wore masks carved of wood. Each carried a bow unlike any either Dena or Najilla had ever seen, less than three feet, but with the bowstring tripled as it passed through pulleys at its ends. Their quivers carried several kinds of arrows including the large one they had first fired, and lighter ones more like Najilla's. They came in silence to encircle Dena and Najilla, but they had not knocked arrows, nor had they drawn the swords they wore at their backs.
"Release the nerve attack, Heiress of the Goddess of War." One archer said, granting acceptance to her claim of identity, and Dena snapped her fingers against a spot at the base of the captured archer's neck.
The archer slowly stretched her arms and legs, and got to her feet, and said, "Wait with us here a moment for the permission you seek. Word has been sent to our queen, and the answer should be returned shortly." She seemed to be in command of the archers.
For a few more minutes they regarded each other in silence. Disciplined and formidable warriors, Dena thought, not even the king's liege-warriors are so proficient. Small wonder the Goddess forbade her people coming here, a misunderstanding could have started a very serious war. Soon the call of birds again broke the stillness of the forest, and one of the archers answered, whistling from under her mask. Then they removed their masks, and slung them off the scabbards at their backs like shields.
"Two of us are to escort you to the queen. Her name is Cyane XXIII, and she is High Queen of the United Amazon Nation." The commander said. "She has heard of you. Now walk with us. It will take three candle marks, since we will be four, and you have only two horses, and we cannot reveal the faster road."
Dena and Najilla reckoned they covered nine miles, and Dena was impressed by the Amazons' ability to communicate so quickly. She knew it implied the woods were full of sentries, and at every step they were covered by archers. Nothing could be seen, and an invading army could have walked far into this land unknowing, never to return, while beyond the invisible borders their fate would remain ever a mystery. It was by far a more warlike state than even Sparata, depending on constant vigilance and expert stealth, for it had no walls. At the time, it was the most terrifying place Najilla had ever been.
They reached the Amazon city near the fifth candle mark of the second watch, and below them in a valley, buildings camouflaged through decades by living plants and trees could be recognized only with effort, even when they came close. Once they were actually among the buildings, they saw many warriors and civilians, they heard voices on all sides, and here and there saw the smoke of a fire. The city was large and confusing, for no street was straight or paved, and without a city wall, Dena was never sure just how big the city was, or how many called it home. Though it was the city of the queen, it was but one of many, for the Amazon Nation had united and grown through all the Years without Gods, and this was the zenith of their civilization.
Finally they came to a building, like the others covered with vegetation, and no straight line of wall or roof betrayed its size. There was a guarded opening between two trees, and the inside was lit with oil lamps. Dena and Najilla were admitted, and led through a series of halls and chambers, until they came to a large room through which a stream ran, while part of the roof was open to the sky. It reminded Dena of the Temple of the Goddess of History and Knowledge on Olympia. On one side was a platform, creating an elevated floor, and they ascended three steps to reach it. The platform held a large round table, surrounded by chairs, and several women sat around it. One chair had a taller back, and arms at the sides, and in it sat a woman with straight blond hair, cropped in front and shoulder length at the sides and back. Her eyes were deep brown streaked with gold, and her gaze was intense as it focused first on Najilla, and then on Dena. She looked to be in her thirties, but there was a sense of timelessness about her, and no guess closer could be made. Her air of command was unmistakable, yet she conducted herself with restraint, and her position was signaled only by the deference of those around her, and the construction of her chair. Among her warriors she would be invisible, and no enemy would discern which of these reserved and focused warriors was the leader. Dena was again very highly impressed. She waited for the queen to speak, and after a short interval she addressed Dena in formal military fashion.
"Hail and well met, Dena of Amphilios, Heiress of the Goddess of War, inheritor of the Spirit of Battle, and seeker of the Balance of Dark and Light," she said, rising from her chair.
"Hail and well met, Cyane XXIII, High Queen of the United Amazon Nation, and keeper of the Word of Power," Dena replied, saluting her with her right fist over her heart.
"Our Seer has revealed many visions of your bravery and service in the calling of the Greater Good. Also she has seen the march of your enemy, and their path of destruction." Cyane paused, cueing Dena to speak.
"We come before you at the request of King Liasis II, breaking the ban of the Goddess only at great need. We seek council and aid against the invaders from the steppes, for they come against us with great force, and their evil knows no bounds."
"Know that our nation has never worshipped the God of War, but the Goddesses we accepted and revered. At our request Dale Sherril proclaimed the ban in the 34th year of her reign, and the people of New Hellas have honored it ever since. We are not allies of the king, but we respect the truce the ban implies. With King Liasis II we have peace and none defile our lands. With the invaders we would have war." Queen Cyane declared. "The Council of the Amazon Nation has agreed that our warriors will fight to drive the invaders from the lands you call Macedon and Chalcidic, for those lands are adjacent to our own. Of Thracae we have no concern."
"Queen Cyane," Dena responded, "the Council's decision is wise, for the invaders would honor no ban or treaty. The king hoped your love of your homeland would lead you to aid us before the threat is at the doorstep of your nation. Let the battleground be the scarred and wounded lands of New Hellas. As has been truly said, 'the enemy of my enemy is my friend'."
"Dena of Amphilios, when you return to New Hellas tomorrow you shall be accompanied by a division of the army of the Amazon Nation. They will confer on tactics with the king's army, but they will be under their own commanders, and when the lands in question are free they shall return home. Is this agreeable?"
"The terms are welcome and accepted. In this I have leave to speak for the king. But Queen Cyane, I do not know the organization of the Amazon Nation's army, what strength constitutes a division?"
"None outside the nation need know the constitution of the nation's army, yet I will tell you that a division is the strength of a city, and the division to accompany you is from the north, far beyond the threat. We would never draw away the defenses of the areas most in jeopardy, but when you return to Therma, you will be accompanied by 20,000 warriors."
My Gods, Najilla thought, a division of one city stands at 20,000. If the nation has five cities their army outnumbers the entire army of New Hellas, and if they are all like the ones we met, the ban was never for the sake of the Amazon Nation. To most they are a myth...none even know the extent of their territory. And this was true, and if the people of New Hellas had wondered why the invaders of the steppes came west only through the Strait of Constantine, they would have begun to appreciate the hidden nation that protected all of the northlands. For as was said, the Amazon Nation was at the zenith of its power, and from the borders of New Hellas in the south, it stretched to the arctic in the north. From the Black Sea to the White Sea in the east, to the Great Sea in the west, all the lands once named for Europa were held by the United Amazon Nation, and their cities numbered over a hundred, and their warriors numbered in the millions. And before them sat the High Queen, unaffected by the power she held, dressed as a warrior of her nation, yet she commanded far more subjects than the Goddesses had ever had worshippers.
As dawn broke on the 28th of May, Dena and Najilla set out for Therma, and they walked in the company of Amazon Warriors. Though they displayed no rank, there were five who issued orders, and with whom they conversed most, and by the end of their journey they had discerned that the leader of the Amazons accompanying them was a dark haired woman named Solaris. One thing Dena and Najilla found disconcerting was that at the end of their day's march they found an encampment already prepared, and the strength of the Amazon Division was awaiting them.
"I don't understand how they beat us here and set up so quickly," Najilla confessed to Solaris when she saw them.
"They were here. They watched you outbound from Therma three days ago. They have been here since the 14th of May, when refugees were reported in the highlands again."
"But we saw nothing," Najilla said, dumbfounded, "the land was empty for miles around."
"They gave you wide berth and let you pass in peace. Our Seer and our Queen are very wise, young priestess, and our warriors are now the most skilled in our history. We come from a land where there are no trees and it is windswept and often cold. Hiding ourselves in this riot of growth is no challenge at all."
Najilla didn't know what to say, so she sat down on a rock and started to prepare an evening meal for herself and Dena, shaking her head and wondering what she'd been missing in New Hellas.
☼
At the third candle mark of the second watch the Amazon Division came out of the eastern highlands, down into the valley of Therma, with Dena and Najilla at their head. It was the 29th of May. Long before they arrived at the encampment of the army, riders had come forth to meet them, and among them rode the king. The riders dismounted and great was their rejoicing, and the king expressed his thanks to Dena and Najilla, and his welcome to the Amazons.
"Accept my gratitude on the accomplishment of your mission." King Liasis II said to Dena and Najilla.
Then he turned and addressed the Amazons. "I offer my thanks, and the thanks of the people of New Hellas, to the High Queen and the Amazon Council, for sending you to our aid in this war. Though in the past, few of our people have known of, or believed in your existence, soon none shall doubt the strength or bravery of the Amazon Nation."
Then the king met with Solaris and her lieutenants alone.
"My forefathers came across the void with the Goddesses, and in the early years learned much of what passed in their new home world. Among those who came in embassy with the Goddess of War, to her meeting with the High Queen, was the pilot of the Colonial Starship Icarus III, for he held the office of High Chancellor to the Goddesses. They met on the plain of Lake Diora. There was the High Queen Melosa XVIII, and with her 200,000 warriors, the strength of her southern army. They warned the Goddess to keep clear her people from Amazon lands. Before she agreed to impose the ban, Dale revealed the Ares, that had flown high above them from Olympia and stooped upon the army, hanging in the sky like a red cloud, and she commanded it to level a mountain.
"And she proclaimed that our nations would be best served in mutual segregation, and the High Queen agreed. Thus for over 650 years the contacts between our nations can be counted on the fingers of a single hand, and for both our peoples this has been good. My hope is that when the enemy is defeated, my people and yours can continue in the peace of the ban, yet your presence will breed stories and legends, and stoke the curiosity of the people. Though true allegiance between our nations may not be desired, yet in the coming years I pray for closer rapport between our nations, for there is a prophecy, and this too is not common knowledge.
"It was said by Valerie, the Goddess of History and Knowledge, and confirmed by the Seer of the Amazon Nation, that when the Amazons came again into Hellenic lands, the Goddesses would reappear, and shortly there would be war. Not such as the local conflict we now face, but a true war, of magnitude undreamed in the whole of the histories of both our nations. So now the omens come to pass, and the prophecy is enacted, and in the years close ahead we shall need each other as never before."
"King Liasis II," Solaris answered, "we remember the prophecy, and we see the time we call Armageddon drawing near. For the last four generations our nation has been strengthening itself. The army now stands at 2 1/2 million warriors, yet what good can they do against an enemy from beyond the stars, in a battle fought above the heavens?"
"I know not the answer to your questions," said the king.
"Nor do we," replied Solaris.
☼
That night the Amazons encamped in the valley near the city of Therma, and unlike the army they set no palisade, but kept watches and guarded their position, and none could approach. As the king had said, the curiosity of the people was very great, for outside their city stood an army greater than the whole Army of Macedon, and it had come out of myth and legend. When a throng of the curious approached the encampment, they were instantly surrounded by sentries who had appeared, it seemed, from the ground itself, as spirits risen from their graves. And they were encouraged to go back to their city and not to return. This was seen by watchers on the army's palisade, and tense moments passed until the city folk were seen walking back to Therma. Then, before their eyes, the sentries vanished.
Few of the Amazons entered Therma or the camp of the army, preferring to restrict their contact, for they were there to offer aid in battle, not to make friends. Yet in the company of Dena and Najilla, Solaris and her lieutenants attended a council of war in the tent of the First General of the Army of New Hellas, and his commanders.
"Generals of the five armies," the king said, opening the council of war, "I want you to meet Solaris, commander of the Amazon Division, and her lieutenants. They have come at my request, to aid our fight against the invaders. They will be under the command of their own officers, and will fight their own front in the war."
The generals looked at the five women before them, wearing no insignia or uniform. They really didn't know what to make of them, so different were they from any friend or foe they had faced. Finally one asked leave of his king to speak.
"Like many here, I have only thought of the Amazons as subjects of ancient legend, and before this afternoon would have denied their existence, yet I see you do exist, and I am thankful." General Solon of the Army of Peloponnesia declared, "I count your army near the strength of my own, and I am grateful to your leaders for their aid. Like many I am curious about you and your lands, but now is not the time. I would ask, what part would your forces best play in our strategy?"
"General, we number 20,000, and we are a division of our army, but one of many. It is our custom to fight with stealth, killing from concealment with bolts, bitterly poisoned. It is our mission to clear the lands of Macedon and Chalcidic." Solaris answered.
"But commander," General Calais of Attica said, "there may be 100,000 invaders in those areas when we engage them, and you could be outnumbered five to one."
"Then our warriors need each count only five arrows blessed," the Amazon Lieutenant Terreis replied, "we do not shoot without a clear target, and we do not miss."
"Yet you will not be waiting in ambush for enemies to approach unawares," General Arkos of Macedon said, "you shall be driving out invaders already in possession of the territory we wish to free."
"Do they press their advance at night? Our scouts say not. Rather they encamp as you do, and rest, waiting to battle in the day," Lieutenant Ephiny observed. "We shall approach within the range of our bows, not theirs, picking them off from the dark as they are revealed by their own campfires."
"Generals, our tactics are proven through centuries against hordes on the northern steppes," Solaris told them, "we protect a frontier over 1,200 miles long by these tactics, and our border is impenetrable. Our forces will surely destroy the invaders in Macedon and Chalcidic, and we shall do so in about a week. We expect very few casualties."
For a while there was only silence as these things sunk in. Before them stood five women in suede costumes hung with feathers and beads, not having the appearance of soldiers. Yet they claimed to hold a frontier of 1,200 miles. From the north of Macedon, to the south of Peloponnesia was perhaps 330 miles. And they claimed they would kill 100,000 enemy in a week without sustaining significant casualties. It bordered on preposterous. Extra warriors were welcome, but where had their king found these? And yet, they had claimed their force of 20,000 merely a division among many, and they had for centuries held lands not two days march north, yet were almost completely unknown.
General Arkos thought back to his childhood, when as a boy of eight he had accompanied his father, a captain of liege-warriors home on leave, into the highlands of Chalcidic to camp. As they had walked on that summer day near Lake Diora, his father had come upon an arrow freshly shot into a tree, and he had examined it, and looked into the woods to the north. He remembered the calls of birds. Then his father had picked up his son, placing him on his shoulders, and he had fled.
"We will take with us an observer," Solaris said, understanding their doubts, "I too would be uncomfortable leaving my near lands to untested allies, while going into battle further from home, never knowing if the enemy at my back had lived or died. I understand your reservations about our claims."
"You mean you would allow one of our soldiers to accompany you, to report on the progress of the war?" King Liasis II asked.
"I was thinking not of a regular soldier, but rather one who shoots, and could learn to shoot as we do. One who could absorb our methods and then teach them to your own men someday."
"Who would you choose, for we have many archers among us, and I would let you take your pick, for it would be an honor to any of my men."
"I had in mind Najilla, Priestess of Therma." Solaris said.
In the corner of the tent Dena and Najilla had stood in silence, and they passed a look between them, and it was decided. Najilla would accompany the Amazons, while Dena rallied the troops further east. It was the last major decision they would make together.
☼
CHAPTER 9: THE WRATH OF THE PRIESTESS
In the predawn of the 31st of May, Najilla accompanied the Amazon Division back into the highlands of the east, while Dena remained behind with the king and his generals. The armies were prepared at last, and the strategy was decided, and with the dawn of the 1st of June, the armada would sail. All day they loaded ships with weapons and supplies, and Dena observed there were ships of a kind unseen before. Not much to look at, they would be towed by the galleys, for by themselves they were barely sea worthy barges, large, but of shallow drought, and provided with a minimum of oars. Of these, Dena counted forty, and upon each stood a rolling trebuchet with an arm of fifty feet in length. Such an engine of war could throw a shot of 250 pounds perhaps 250-300 yards. The missiles they would hurl were standing along the sides of the barges, casks filled with a mixture of oil and fat. She thought back to her dream, in which Xena had prepared to launch pestilence and horror into Corinth to break the siege. These machines were double their size, and would assail the land bound troops of Mohegala, standing out to sea well beyond the range of any retaliation, and raining fire upon the enemy. Total War Dena thought, and she smiled.
It was the changing of the watch, and the early afternoon sun shone brightly through the trees, the light fluttering in the leaves, bringing to the highlands of Chalcidic a beauty unspoiled by the war. Najilla sat with Solaris, Terreis, Ephiny, and the lieutenants Narciles, and Lahar, eating a strange trail food the Amazons had given her to try. They each ate a block less than fist size, washing it down with fresh water, and Najilla thought it not unpleasant, though a bit heavy.
"What is this anyway?" she asked.
"Pemilcan," replied Terreis, "it's a compact trail food, highly nutritious and can be carried long unspoiled."
"It's not bad, certainly beats dried meat, though the flavor isn't great."
"Najilla, we've eaten enough to march or fight from now until tomorrow," Solaris told her, "you can survive on a half ration for two weeks before weakening noticeably."
"Incredible," Najilla thought, just like everything else about these warriors.
"We will resume our march in a quarter candle mark, and there's something I want to show you," Ephiny said, standing, "bring your bow and come with me."
So Najilla picked up her bow and quiver and followed Ephiny to a place a short way from the resting Amazons and the trees grew further apart. There Ephiny readied her bow, and indicating a tree about 50 yards away, shot an arrow. It was a smaller arrow than the warning arrow first shot in front of Dena's horse, and it stuck, quivering in the trunk about chest high.
"Can you hit such a mark?" Ephiny asked.
"With ease," Najilla replied, knocking an arrow, and sticking it in the trunk next to Ephiny's.
"Nice shot, priestess," said the Amazon, her blue eyes twinkling, "now, match me again."
This time Ephiny indicated a tree at twice the range, 100 yards, and the trunk was but 4" in diameter. Najilla was doubtful, yet Ephiny stuck the shaft with little effort. Najilla took her turn, concentrating, and compensating for distance with the trajectory. Her arrow struck the trunk, lower than she would have liked, perhaps waist high. Ephiny smiled.
"Third shot is the teller," she said, adjusting the pulleys on her bow. When she fired. Najilla had to look for where the arrow had gone, for Ephiny had fired an almost flat trajectory, compensating not at all for the increase in distance. The arrow had covered the distance without the delay of the rise and fall of a ballistic arc. Her eyes widened as she saw the shaft quivering, and stuck securely in a trunk, 6" in diameter, and 130 yards away.
"I might hit such a mark, and perhaps with enough force for it to stick," said Najilla, "but the shot would be unsure, slower and weaker at impact. I would not shoot against an enemy at that distance, rather I would move closer."
Ephiny didn't answer, but made a final adjustment. She sighted, and shot a fourth arrow, giving a slightly greater arc to its flight. Still the arrow flew swift to its mark, and Najilla saw it stuck in a trunk of the same size, distant to her eyes, 160 yards away.
"Beginning at a range of 200 yards," Ephiny said quietly, "I have shot at a scouting party of ten, and one by one killed them as they charged, dropping the last at a distance of 20 yards."
Najilla digested this information. A soldier charging an enemy might cover 200 yards in less than forty seconds. To make ten kills in that time, with the pressure of charging enemies, would be a feat of which stories would be told. Somehow she didn't think it was that uncommon for them. She was intrigued, with the bow, and with the archer, for Ephiny, with her reddish blond ringlets and flashing blue eyes, her quick smile and relaxed manner struck a chord inside her.
"How is it that your bows can fire with so much power?" Najilla asked, looking at Ephiny's weapon.
"It is partly in the materials, and partly in the design. It is very ancient, yet uncommon in these days," Ephiny told her, "a recurved bow like yours will fire with a draw of about 40 pounds. Our bows draw with a similar force, but they fire at the force of a bow drawn at 150 pounds."
A bow of 150 pounds was unheard of.
"Would you like to try it?" Ephiny asked her.
"Absolutely!" Najilla jumped at the offer.
Ephiny handed over her bow, and Najilla hefted it, and tested the draw and the sights. It felt comfortable, and the flex was natural. At 34" it was fully 20" shorter than her bow. She reached full draw and then surprise grew on her face. The resistance against her draw actually decreased.
"As you draw to full, the stress drops off but the power increases. It can be drawn further, but the power will drop off somewhat. It must be adjusted to your draw length," Ephiny stated, and Najilla let off on her draw slightly, feeling for the point of strongest resistance.
Najilla knocked an arrow, and drew. She reached the point of greatest power, aimed and released. Ephiny laughed at the shock on her face, as the arrow, flying flat and true, slammed into the trunk of a tree 120 yards away.
"Ephiny, thank you. Never have I made such a shot in my life!" Najilla exclaimed as she handed the bow back to her.
"You shall make many such shots. We have brought a bow for your use." Ephiny told the priestess, grinning as a smile lit Najilla's face, "If you're to aid us in battle you must be prepared. At least we don't have to teach you to shoot."
Najilla didn't know what to say. A weapon like the Amazon's bow was, in their time, an expensive and precious possession. Her own laminated recurve bow was a cherished piece of equipment, useful in hunting as well as war. For the Amazon to offer one of their bows to her, practically a stranger, touched her heart. She couldn't stop the tears of happiness and gratitude that started to overflow and trace a path down her cheeks.
"What's the matter?" Ephiny asked, alarmed.
"Ephiny, your offer is special to me, and by making it you have made me feel honored, and special as well. It is a remarkable weapon. Thank you so much." Najilla choked out.
"Well, dry your eyes priestess," Ephiny said with a radiant smile, "let's retrieve those arrows, and then it's time to get back and return to the march."
It took her a few moments, but Najilla composed herself, and together they rejoined the other Amazon leaders. Solaris gave a whistle like several notes of birdsong, and it was passed through the troops, then they picked themselves up and continued on their way.
As the afternoon's march continued, Najilla found herself speaking mostly with Ephiny, and their conversation ranged to many topics, and both learned much about the worlds in which the other lived. Najilla was amazed by the extent of the Amazon Nation, and its long history of ups and downs. Ephiny was amazed by the differences from one city to another within the nation of New Hellas, which Najilla had seen in her travels with Dena. In spite of the differences in their lives they found they had much in common. Both preferred the less crowded country to the press of the cities, both loved to travel, both enjoyed their roles as warriors, and both had come to their present stations as orphans. By the time the day's march ended, neither realized they had spoken to no one else for several candle marks, and around them attention was discreetly paid to this by their fellow warriors, who winked at each other knowingly. It surprised no one when they continued their conversation through the evening meal, and as they settled into sleeping spots for the night, their speech punctuated by laughter, and occasional tears.
☼
Dawn broke on the 1st of June, and the ships of the king's armada cast long shadows on the waves in the harbor as they weighed anchor and stood off from shore. They left the port of Therma, slipping away down sea roads into the gulf, and passed south to the Aegean. Aboard the king's flagship, Icarus XXIV, Dena watched the progress of the armada. Behind them, stretched across twenty-five miles of water came the might of the nation of New Hellas, over 82,000 soldiers, 12,000 sailors, 30,000 horses, and 440 ships. The sea was speckled with the armada, and Dena found herself wishing for the sight of the Gods, that she might watch their progress from above, then rise higher still and spy out the position of the enemy. And also, had she the sight of the Gods, she would have searched the highlands of Chalcidic for the stealthy march of the Amazons, and her closest friend, Najilla.
As dawn broke on the 1st of June, the highlands were quiet under the rising sun, and here and there came the call of a bird. Already the Amazons had been marching two candle marks, and had passed Lake Bolba, and would soon approach the coastal scarp between Argil and Stargir. By their whistles they knew from scouts that the enemy held these lands, and all the eastern coast of Chalcidic. These scouts had remained in the highlands while the division had marched with Dena and Najilla to Therma, and for two weeks had watched the advance of Mohegala's forces from Stryma Vale. What they had seen of their cruelty raised their blood to boiling. In the mornings the soldiers of Mohegala would find, often as not, several of their officers dead, arrow shot by foes they never saw. Over the length of their column the killings were more an annoyance than a strategic threat, yet in two weeks they had lost 140 officers, about ten a night, and now these companies were commanded by less experienced soldiers, promoted in the field, and often resented by their comrades. To the Amazon scouts, it was the opening of their war of attrition, and if 140 deaths in a force of 180,000 seemed like little, to them each arrow which found its mark was blessed, for they intended to kill the invaders one by one. And always they picked their targets, looking for the badge of rank, passing opportunities to shoot common soldiers, for they sought to degrade their enemy's moral, if even by a degree. So in the days they watched, and in the nights they killed.
"Even the greatest army is but a sum of its warriors, and as an army is forged, man by man, so too can it be destroyed, man by man. Yet an army, like a man, has a head to lead and a body to follow. Cut off the head, and the body shall die. Each arrow that finds its mark is blessed, and the most blessed arrow finds its target, right between the eyes. -Quote from the "Wisdom of Artemis: Amazon Warfare", anthology of strategy and tactics, compilation still in progress. Begun 1,037 B.C.
As the candle marks of the watches passed, the armada of the king and the warriors of the Amazons moved forward towards their destiny, and by the middle of the second watch, the armada rounded the first peninsula of Chalcidic, and the Amazons looked down on their enemy. From the highlands the warriors of the north saw a narrow coastal land, black with the troops of Mohegala, between the cliffs and the sea, and Solaris and her lieutenants confirmed their strategy.
That afternoon Solaris, with Ephiny and Najilla, led 10,000 warriors south, while Terreis and Narciles took another 7,500 warriors north. The remaining 2,500 Amazons, under Lahar's command remained in the highlands, holding them against incursions from the invaders.
Solaris brought her troops to the end of the highlands above Acanthus, where the narrow neck of the third peninsula of Chalcidic jutted into the sea, and there they stopped for the night. To the north, Terreis and Narciles led their troops to the vale where a river drained the waters of Lake Bolba into the sea, about midway between Stargir in the south and Argil to the north. The day was fading, and the army of Mohegala was pitching camp. Up and down the coast watch fires and cook fires were kindled as the invaders rested after another day of conquest. Soon night would fall, and the war would begin, and many who took an evening meal that night would never greet the morning.
It was the third candle mark of the third watch, midnight, the witching hour, and by stealth the Amazons under Narciles and Terreis descended to the valley floor. Passing in silence, as shadows and shades, shooting sentries as they went, they slaughtered the enemy who had camped in the valley as they slept. Such was their stealth, and their war craft, and their prowess with bow and sword, that though 2,000 of Mohegala's soldiers died, none raised an alarm. Soon they were at the coastal plain, and they heard the waves of the sea, and they looked on their enemies. And as a spreading stain in clear water, so they advanced, under cover of darkness, shooting and hewing as they went, and another 6,000 enemy died before an alarm was raised. This was their plan, that each Amazon take at least one enemy life, and having accomplished that, they withdrew as the alarms broke the stillness of the night. And as waves of reinforcements arrived, their rear guard slew them at 120 yards in the dark, and few came closer to the retreat. In the sixth candle mark of the third watch, the Amazons returned through the valley to the highlands, leaving a wall of bodies to block the advance of their pursuers, and they disappeared into the night. But behind them, in the valley and on the coast, there lay the bodies of 8,500 dead, and of the Amazons, eleven lost their lives, and their bodies were brought back, so none knew for sure who the enemy was.
In the south Solaris led her forces down from the highlands, and they came to the land above Acanthus, and there they began their slaughter. Solaris left Ephiny and Najilla with 1,000 Amazons, and these waylaid the neck of the peninsula so that none might re-enter the mainland. Then taking 9,000 warriors, she descended on Acanthus, shooting sentries, and moving into the city in the shadows. In the city of Acanthus that night, the Spirit of Death walked, and from the dark came the silent attack, and in a candle mark it was over. Solaris and her forces retreated, rejoining Ephiny, then climbing back to the highlands. But behind them the city of Acanthus was silent, and in it 10,000 soldiers slept, never to wake in this world. And the Amazons, having killed every soul in the city, took away with them 3,000 horses. These they brought into the highlands, and though they slowed the retreat, Ephiny and Najilla's troops guarded the neck of the peninsula, only 900 yards wide, giving them ample time to retreat. Upon the neck of the peninsula the bodies piled deep, and none gained the mainland, and then these Amazons withdrew as well.
And the sun rose red on the 2nd of June, and of Mohegala's army, 24,000 were slain in the night, and he counted the bodies, and cursed his gods. The king's armada passed in the night, rounding the third peninsula at dawn, and from the highlands came flashes from Najilla's sword, and all rejoiced, but none so greatly as Dena, who had feared for her friend. At the king's council that morning, all heard that in the night the Amazons had opened the war, and they marveled at the count of the dead, for it was better than the eighth part of Mohegala's army, and the fourth part of those in that land. But if they marveled at the destruction wrought in the night, more amazed were they to hear that in all the battles less than three dozen of the Amazons had fallen, and they had taken 3,000 horses, depriving Mohegala's cavalry. Then any doubts left the king's generals, and in confirmation there was the silence of Acanthus, broken only by the howling of dogs, and the circling of buzzards and calling of crows.
During that day, Mohegala tried to regroup, and when he heard the ill news of the slaughter to the north he was greatly vexed, and burned an offering of another 200 to his gods, and this time he burned his own men. And he came to believe the east coast of Chalcidic cursed against him, for here the last invasion had failed, and in a night he had lost far more men than the prior invasion force had totaled. Now he had doubts, and though he could show no fear before his men, still he wished he could withdraw back to Stryma. The dead, his dead, had been slain with sword and bow, and the tales his men told of the firefights and the stealth of these enemies left him no doubts who had taken the field against him, and he cursed. He reviewed the lore of his people, counting legend and history as one, and the tactics he recognized from the tales of his people to the north, and when he was brought an arrow he was sure, and he feared the return of night. Yet Mohegala had not risen above his brothers by slaughter alone, and he began to formulate a plan, knowing he could never defeat the Amazon Nation, but hoping to avenge his soldiers and repair his pride.
In the day the Amazons rested in shifts, keeping close watch on the enemy below, and shooting any that tried to approach. A detail took the horses past Lake Bolba, and there freed them to graze in Chalcidic. And one other duty they performed. As the sun rose to the zenith, they raised their voices in a dirge as the smoke of 32 pyres rose to the heavens.
Afterwards, some wanted to return that night to exact further casualties on the enemy. But Solaris in her wisdom forbade them, saying that, "This night few will sleep for fear, and by tomorrow's night we will face men both afraid and asleep, while we shall rest this night and battle them fresh."
In truth she had spoken wisely, and among Mohegala's men few slept, tormented by fear and doubt, and longing for their homes. Yet Mohegala used the time in plotting, and redistributing his forces, forsaking his advance while consumed with hatred for the Amazons, and forgetting the king.
So in that night it was the king's forces that carried the unforeseen attack on the invaders, and from out at sea came a barrage, a rain of fire upon Argil, for through the day the armada had sailed far up the coast. In the 1st candle mark of the third watch twenty of the king's artillery barges flung 100 barrels into the walls of the city, and these burst into a clinging flame which burned long and hot, and could not be extinguished. And being a city built largely of wood, Argil was burned to the ground by the 100 barrels of oil and fat. Though many of Mohegala's troops escaped their barracks, yet their supplies and their horses and their lodgings were lost. Over 2,000 perished in the flames, but the final results were worse, for 20 of the hundred barrels contained not only oil and fat, but also ground minerals and salt. When these burned they released a mixture of gases; sulphur dioxide, hydrochloric acid, and chlorine, which sickened many more troops, rendering them unfit for war.
When dawn broke on the 3rd of June, the Amazons were ready to continue the war, and the king's armada had reached the Stryma Vale.
As Mohegala had on the 7th of May, so King Liasis II greeted the dawn of June the 3rd with a fanfare of trumpets, and their sound crossed the waves, and shook the walls of Amphilios three miles inland. Aboard ship, troops armed and prepared to assault the lands of Macedon and Thracae, while the artillery began its barrage. Fifty barges had been towed close in, and they lofted their barrels of death at the encampments of the enemy. Behind them troop ships made for shore. For half a candle mark they fired, until the coast was awash with flame and deadly vapors, and then the order to cease-fire was given. The king and his generals watched the burning subside, and the clouds of vapors dissipate, and then gave the order to attack. Again the trumpets sounded, but nothing moved on the shore in answer, and the troops landed without resistance, for all about them were bodies burned beyond recognition, and many felt sick at what they saw.
Then having established a beachhead, and moving inland a mile, the army divided. The Army of Macedon and the Army of Thracae marched to seal off the Stryma Vale, protecting the landing, and denying passage east or west to the enemy. The armies of Peloponnesia, Attica, and Thessal began their move east down the coast, slaughtering any they met, and their goal was to reach the Strait of Constantine in 10 days. They rode swiftly through that land, stopping only for battle, and in the evenings they obtained their rations from the supply ships that paced them down the coast, for any food they encountered they deemed poisoned. They encountered resistance, and when they overcame it they drove before them a flight of invaders, wavering between retreat and rout. In the first day they came within ten miles of Neopolis, having cleared nearly twenty miles of Thracae's lands of invaders.
Dena accompanied the Army of Thracae in the liberation of Amphilios, which had become a stronghold of the barbarians. The rage of the Army of Thracae was a blood haze, and they spared none, for this was their homeland, and they had the deaths of 7,700 of their comrades to avenge. Yet before them went Dena, and soon her cry was taken up by the troops, men-at-arms and liege-warriors alike, and they came against their enemies screaming, "Kill Them All". The two miles from the beachhead to the walls of Amphilios were strongly contested by the enemy, and they fought bitterly against the king's men. But the rage and the prowess of the Army of Thracae carried the battle, and by the opening of the second watch they prepared to besiege the city.
☼
In the highlands on the 3rd of June the Amazons again divided their forces, and again Terreis and Narciles took 7,500 warriors north, while Solaris, with Ephiny and Najilla came south with 10,000. As before, 2,500 Amazons maintained guard in the highlands under Lahar. In the north and south they took up positions and watched the movements of the enemy.
In the north Mohegala's army was moving back up the coast towards Stryma Vale, in answer to the king's attack. But in the south the troops were vacating the peninsula and moving across the crescent of land between the second and third peninsulas of Chalcidic. The enemy appeared to be advancing, to threaten the now deserted towns of Toron on the second peninsula, and Sermyla west of its base. They were moving towards their ultimate goal of Therma, only 50 odd miles to the west, and in this Solaris saw the intent of Mohegala's threat. He would know of the king's assault, and would be cut off from retreat into the east. His force was no longer large enough to threaten New Hellas with occupation, but he could cause vast suffering if his army besieged Therma, and Solaris perceived he would sacrifice his army to spite the people of Macedon. Already the coastline below the highlands was widening, and if Mohegala could win past the peninsulas his cavalry could ride swiftly up the coast to attack.
"The enemy moves his forces west in hopes of winning to the plain past the cliffs," Solaris told Ephiny and Najilla, "and should he do so, he will be well placed to strike at Therma while the king's forces are to the east."
"I count his forces at 55,000 on foot, and perhaps 17,000 on horse. 72,000 total." Ephiny said.
"They can't be allowed to pass the peninsulas," Najilla agreed, "we would be hard pressed to stop them afterwards, for they could reach Therma in less than two days march."
"Stopping them on open ground while on foot would be difficult," Solaris said, "and they have enough cavalry to destroy Therma while leaving their infantry to engage us. We will lose too much advantage on the open plain. This must end here."
They began to move west through the highlands keeping watch on Mohegala's troops below, and as the candle marks of the watches wore on, they went further and further from their sisters in the north. When dark fell they would be far from aid, and facing the enemy, outnumbered more than seven to one. For this reason, Solaris declined to engage them in the light of day, counting every advantage a necessity, and waiting for nightfall. To every warrior the day seemed over long, and the candle marks of the watches crept past, as the enemy advanced down the coast. At the entrance to the second peninsula a column of cavalry broke away, 7,000 horsemen rode down the peninsula out of sight.
"We must ignore them for now," Solaris told them, "I cannot diminish our forces by engaging both these riders and the main force still heading west. At their current pace they will be 12 miles distant at nightfall. No, we must continue our march."
So they continued to follow the main army of Mohegala, still 65,000 strong. And though their odds were now marginally better, none fooled themselves, for they would have a mounted enemy at their backs. In the fourth candle mark of the second watch, just two candle marks before the sun would set, a group of 5,000 riders broke from the mass of the army and rode west at higher speed.
"There they go," Ephiny said, "on their way to assault Therma as the vanguard of Mohegala's army. And on foot we can't catch them."
Najilla began to feel sick, for Therma was her hometown, and with the king's army way to the east, it was defenseless. Ephiny saw her sad expression and squeezed her shoulder, and Najilla, grateful for the comfort, gave her a weak smile.
"These too we cannot chase. No, we must remain to destroy the main force, which still numbers 60,000," said Solaris, "I'm sorry Najilla, there's nothing more we can do. With hope the city will stand safe within its walls until we can come to their aid."
No one spoke their doubts of the coming battle, or the possibility of being worsted, or the consequences that such a defeat would bring. At last the army stopped its march and pitched its camp. And finally the sun made its descent, reddening and growing as it dipped to the horizon, filling the sky with the hues of blood, and then twilight passed to night. They waited in the dark in the highlands above the bay, closer to the first peninsula than the second, and below, on the narrows lay the town of Potidaea.
At the second candle mark of the third watch they filed down out of the highlands, and shot the sentries around the camp. Then the slaughter began. The Amazons had slain four times their number when an arrow was shot, aflame into the sky, and Mohegala's trap was sprung. Still 20,000 strong, the infantry was roused and panic drove them to a desperate counterattack, and the Amazons began to sustain casualties of significance. Still they fired arrows to their marks, and about them the bodies piled higher. But then they heard hoof beats in the night.
From the town of Potidaea came Mohegala's cavalry, for they had only made a feint in their ride up the coast, and now 5,000 riders joined the battle. The Amazons were forced to chose between the nearby targets of the infantry, or the rapidly approaching faster targets of the cavalry.
Now Solaris read the trap, and she signaled her warriors to retreat, and they began to make their way back to the highlands. And they continued shooting, maintaining a distance between themselves and their enemies. They figured they had killed 43,000 and they couldn't do more without great losses. They had won back within a quarter-mile of the cliffs when there came against them the cavalry earlier separated at the second peninsula. These had begun their approach to the battle at dark fall, moving close in silence, and now these 7,000 charged, having waited to cut off the Amazon's retreat. And their situation was desperate, caught without good cover on the flatlands above the beach, facing the surviving cavalry, perhaps 9,000 riders, and another 19,000 on foot.
So the Amazons were finally driven into a circle, shooting out into the night in all directions, and by their skill they brought down another 6,000 enemy, mostly infantry, while the bodies of their sisters collected around them. As the night progressed and fewer were left to hold the perimeter, a rider would now and then penetrate their circle, forcing them to dispatch him with swords. As the last candle mark of darkness passed, the Amazons counted their losses at over half, and about them still 22,000 remained against their 4,000.
When the sun lightened the horizon to the east, the Amazons were taking arrows from the dead, and from the quivers of their fallen sisters, making each find a mark, but some had already had to cease shooting for lack of arrows. As they ran out they began to draw their swords, and some took the duty of scavenging arrows for the others, and the enemy closed in. Soon each remaining archer had a sword wielding Amazon standing beside her to kill any who came too close, and fewer and fewer were shooting.
Now the sun was fully above the horizon. On the battle ground only 2,500 Amazons remained, but though they had brought the invaders' numbers down to 15,000, still they were outnumbered six to one. Then came the beginning of the first watch, and Najilla fired her last arrow into the throat of a captain of the cavalry, and drew her sword. Beside her Ephiny continued shooting, having recovered a quiver from a fallen sister, and Najilla protected her as the infantry sought to overwhelm them. Ephiny turned for a moment to watch Najilla's swordplay, and what she saw amazed her, for though the Amazons were competent with their swords, never had she seen one wielded with such mastery. When six lay dead before her, Najilla looked over and read the admiration in Ephiny's eyes and her heartbeat raced.
"I wish I could have had the time to learn the sword from you," Ephiny said quietly, and by this she acknowledged the hopelessness of their situation.
"I wish I could have spent more time with you," Najilla answered from her heart.
"As do I," Ephiny confirmed.
They returned to the battle, Ephiny shooting and Najilla standing beside her wielding her sword. The morning wore on, and the war of attrition continued, and now 1,000 Amazons faced 6,000 enemy.
Finally Ephiny shot her last arrow, and drew her sword, and they stood side by side, and in their desperate camaraderie each felt a closeness neither had experienced before, and the feeling bit at their hearts for their time was short. The Amazon's position could no longer be held, and they were over run, and fought the enemy all around them. And Ephiny and Najilla stood back to back, hewing down all who approached, and in the final candle mark the odds actually dropped, for the Amazons were much deadlier with their swords than the invaders. They were among the last 50 standing, and the number of their enemy was reduced to 250, but none would surrender, for it was not their way. Of the enemy, even the officers had joined the fight, for their men were mostly dead, and the Red Khan drove them on. Then a press of men assailed them as they fought, separated from the others, and in that moment one managed to close with them, and stabbed Ephiny in the back. Najilla heard her gasp in pain, and she turned and saw her wound. Then a red haze took her, and she slaughtered four attackers in as many strokes, as Dena had once done in Sparata. Najilla dropped to her knees and held Ephiny's head, tears blurring her vision as she watched the blood running from her mouth, and her heart broke, and she closed Ephiny's blue eyes, for they had become glazed with death.
When Najilla stood again, the Spirit of Battle possessed her, and if it was a final gift from the Gods, or the Fire kindled by the loss of a love so doomed she could not tell. She was among the last twelve standing, and before they killed her she took another twenty to Hades gates. At last a warrior in a general's uniform opposed her, and the fatigue of battle was affecting her greatly. While she fought him she noticed the other soldiers held back, ringing them, and acting as if this were a duel. She made a lunge, her sword arm burning from sustaining the fight for so long and against so many. He managed to knock away her blade, disarming her. She could see the triumph in his eyes as he advanced, and she knew she had no strength left, yet she swore she would take this general with her to Tartarus. As he advanced he began his back swing, meaning to cleave her head from her shoulders with a stroke from the side, and she played her final card. As his weight shifted, committing him fully, she fell back on the ground, pulling a dagger from her boot. His sword flashed above her, slicing empty air, and she threw the dagger with the last of her strength, watching as in slow motion it turned end over end, and buried itself in his throat. Blood exploded from his mouth, and a look of wild anger filled his eyes, and he spun his sword, reversing his grip, and he drove it down into her chest.
Najilla felt the sword pierce her sternum, like being punched, but then there was a feeling of hard steel in her body, pinning her to the ground. She felt blood choke her, and she coughed, and felt it fountain up. Above her the general lost his grip on the sword hilt and toppled over backwards. She turned her head to the left, away from the bright sun, for it hurt her eyes, and there next to her was the body of Ephiny. She watched her hand as the fingers crawled, spider like closer and closer, finally touching, grasping, and holding as her vision darkened and sound faded, and her breathing stopped. On the ground around her the last of the Amazons had finally been killed, and of the invaders but 110 remained of the 72,000 who had started that march the day before; doomed men who would die far from their homes.
The spirits of the Amazons gathered above the battlefield, and they looked down on the carnage, and they felt a bittersweet sense of triumph at the outcome of the battle. But Najilla looked down, and saw that the left hand of her body grasped the right hand of Ephiny's with their fingers entwined as the warmth left them. And she saw the last of Mohegala's soldiers carrying off the body of the general she had slain, and the spirits of the Amazons rejoiced over her as they watched. For her dying act, spurred not by patriotism, or battle lust, but by the breaking of her heart, had been the killing of Mohegala, the Red Khan.
"Yet in death one may conquer, though the victory is celebrated with pain and tears, and then, in memory, one may live forever."
☼
CHAPTER 10: I WILL BRING YOU COMFORT
In the first candle marks of the second watch, Dena and the soldiers of the Army of Thracae stood before the walls of Amphilios and prepared to lay siege. From the ships they had brought an engine of war, a massive ram with a canopy shrouding those who would drive it forward. With it they battered down the city gates, and Dena led the charge through the shattered remains, and in a fury of battle, she slaughtered all whom she met within the town. With the soldiers of the king, she liberated the town of her birth, and her hatred for those who had killed her father and twice driven her from her home kindled her to a wrath none could withstand. Soon the enemy fled before her, and with the king's men she ran them down, and none were spared. By the sixth candle mark the town was free of Mohegala's men, and as the sun set on the 3rd of June, Dena stood again on the walls of her town, and viewed the carnage.
All through the night she was possessed with a sense of foreboding, and it tainted her victory, and it caused her to be jumpy and ill at ease. When she finally slept that night her dreams were of battle, bloody, fierce, and doomed. In the morning of June 4th she was greatly agitated, and paced the walls endlessly, looking first east, and then west. It was at the second candle mark of the first watch when a pain stabbed her heart, and she sank to her knees, filled with a sense of loss and sadness. She reached out with her senses, but she couldn't feel her friend.
In the daylight of the 3rd of June, Lahar and her Amazons watched from the highlands as the enemy drew away to the north and south, leaving the lands below them silent. As per her orders, she maintained her watch on the coast through the watches of the day. And all through that day her sense of concern for her sisters grew, until by nightfall she paced at her post, and snapped at her sisters. This disturbed them greatly, for Lahar, though not a Seer, was known to have strong intuition regarding those close to her, and her troops were filled with nervousness.
Terreis and Narciles returned from their mission in the early hours of darkness, having again gone into the valley below Lake Bolba, and slaughtered 4,000 of the rearguard of Mohegala's army as they withdrew to the north. Then they had pursued them as far as Argil, shooting at their columns, and the total of their vanquished foes numbered 9,000, so that the total of the enemy, fallen to the Amazons, numbered 105,000. Narciles estimated that fewer than 5,000 of the enemy survived below Stryma Vale, and these they would dispatch the next day.
As the candle marks of the night passed, and Solaris did not return, Lahar's concern grew to worry, and finally to fear for her sisters. At the third candle mark of the third watch she could stand no more, and ordered her Amazons to march south. They marched through the night, and they followed the trail of Solaris and Ephiny and Najilla. They passed the third peninsula, and the bay it sheltered. They kept to the trail as Lahar's fear grew, and her fear for the welfare of her sisters spread to her troops. And they passed the second peninsula in the dark.
In the hour of dawn they passed the bay between the first and second peninsulas, and then in the distance they heard the sounds of battle. Now they ran, their shadows long in the dawn as they raced to join their sisters. They arrived but half a candle mark after Najilla's fall, and from the highlands looked down on the carnage, and their anguish overflowed, and quickly changed to wrath. Down to the beach they came, and they read the signs of what had happened there, and they grieved, for their sisters were dead, all dead. And one among them marked where Ephiny lay, hand in hand with Najilla, and she marked the footprints of men leaving the battle, headed for Potidaea. This she reported to Lahar, and she, consumed with wrath, led her warriors down the neck of land towards the town.
So it was that less than a candle mark after the battle, Lahar and 2,500 Amazons fell upon the last of Mohegala's men as they prepared their leader for his pyre. Not even five minutes passed before the last of the enemy were slain, cut down as they stood, without a word. Then Lahar saw the body they had been preparing, and she marked the insignia he wore, and she knew the Red Khan was dead. She looked for the killing wound, wishing to know the manner of his death, and in his throat she saw a dagger, and she tore it from his body, and upon the pommel was the symbol of the chakram. The Amazons hewed off the head of Mohegala, and jammed it on a pike, and this trophy they would present to the king, dear bought by the blood of their sisters.
The Amazons returned to the field of battle, and they gathered their sisters, and they built a massive pyre. And Lahar found the bodies of Najilla and Ephiny could not be separated for their fingers were death-locked together, and together their bodies were placed on the pyre. But Najilla was not an Amazon, she was the companion of the Heiress of the Goddess of War, and Lahar noted the circle of dead around her that had fallen by her sword, and she memorized all. Then before placing Najilla on the pyre, she drew her second boot dagger, and saw it was the twin of the one she had taken from Mohegala's body, and the tale of her death could be completed.
In Amphilios Dena kept watch on the walls, her heart crying in loss, and she looked for omens. At the changing of the watch she looked southwest, and from far away she saw the smoke of a great burning rise to heavens, and she sank to her knees, tears filling her eyes. Then, because all was secure in Amphilios, she spoke with the General of the Army of Thracae, and with a company of liege-warriors she took her leave.
They went west, across Stryma Vale, and left the holdings of the king's men, and climbed into the highlands. Only once did they meet a company of the enemy, twenty strong, in the western uplands above the vale, and of these she slew fifteen, and the liege-warriors were amazed by her fury. All day they traveled south through the highlands, and finally they came to the encampment of the Amazons, and Dena met with Terreis and Narciles, and learned that Lahar had gone south, and Solaris had not returned. And the Amazons had seen the smoke of the pyre and feared the worst. Dena and the liege-warriors spent the evening in the company of the Amazons in the highlands, awaiting news from the south.
In the hour of dawn, on the 5th of June, Lahar returned with her troops, and before her sisters she recounted all that she had seen. Then a great wailing and lamentation rose, yet the Amazons felt proud of the achievement of their comrades, for they had destroyed the southern army, and they had killed the Red khan. And Lahar spoke with Dena, telling her the tale of the signs she had read, and she handed over the dagger that had killed the Khan, and she gave their trophy to the liege-warriors to present to their king. In that moment a piece of Dena's heart died within her, and she mourned, for she had loved Najilla as a dear friend. But through her tears she rejoiced that her friend had won such renown, and more still that she had found a mate for her heart.
In the afternoon she set out with the liege-warriors, bearing their news and their grisly trophy, and they went north to report all that had happened to the king. Quickly they passed through the highlands, and camped for the night near the valley of slaughter below Lake Bolba. On the 6th of June, they returned to Stryma vale, and they met with the king.
King Liasis II was amazed by the feats of the Amazons, and moved deeply by the tale of their sacrifice. In wonder he heard how they had destroyed the enemy in Chalcidic and Macedon, keeping their word in five days, and in honor of their achievement he proclaimed that, for their people the ban was void. In future days, any Amazon wishing to pass through New Hellas would have free passage, for he said they had bought the right with their blood. To Najilla he would render honor as well, for her service to the kingdom was great. When he returned to Athenae after the war, he commanded a statue be carved in her honor, and in the Temple of the Goddess of War it stands, 12 feet tall, in a chapel to the side of the high altar, in memoriam to the Heroic Priestess of Therma.
In the following days, the Armies of Attica, Thessal, and Peloponnesia achieved their mission, driving the invaders from Thracae, and freeing the lands of New Hellas. So total was the loss to the barbarians, and so complete their defeat, that in their histories they refer to "Mohegala and the Lost Army", for none returned to their lands bringing tidings of the war. For generations the loss of their greatest army diminished their pride and honor, and the terror of New Hellas was a constant fear.
☼
After the land was freed, Dena returned first to Therma, and she was reunited with her mother, and met her brother as the Army of Thessal returned home. Both found her subdued, quiet, and harder of spirit, for her nature had been tempered by battle and loss. On her second day in Therma, she went to the temple of the Goddess of War, and there she went before the altar, and she offered incense, and she prayed for the spirit of her friend, that she find peace and happiness in the fields of Elysia. But the spirit of Najilla came never to Elysia, though many there honor her memory, for by the love she shared with Ephiny, she was admitted to the Amazon's Spirit Realm, and there she lived in bliss.
And finally, when again the refugees set out to return to Amphilios and the towns of the east, Dena took leave of her mother, and went into the west. For two years she fought evil in every place she encountered it, and the tales of her adventures filled the taverns of New Hellas, yet she was not at peace. Within her was a restlessness of spirit, born in the war, and fed by the knowledge of the destiny that awaited her, she knew not when. And she feared she would not be ready to meet it, for she was still a mortal woman, not a Goddess, and the Balance eluded her, and the chakram remained hidden. Often in her travels as she sat alone by her fire, she watched the stars, and she thought of that long ago dream in which Gabrielle had shown her a farm, and a young girl in tears. In her travels a part of her read the land, seeking for the road that led over a hill to that farmhouse in her dream. But never did she find it, and she remained alone, and the years passed, and she became harder of spirit, and stronger in her will, and her prowess with arms was unmatched. And the Spirit of Battle forged her into the greatest mortal warrior New Hellas had ever known.
☼
It is the Year of Our Lord 9,414, being the 41st year of the reign of King Liasis II, Beloved King of New Hellas, and it is the 227th Year since the Deaths of the Goddesses. In the spring Dena marked her 22nd year of life, and it passed while she was traveling alone in the wilds of northern Macedon. There she met again with the Amazons, for now they sought her, and the High Queen, Cyane XXIII, spoke with her alone, for her Seer had proclaimed the time of Armageddon drew near.
"Dena, I am glad we have met, for the time draws close when all will be changed in the world," Cyane told her.
"In my dreams I have seen an enemy from beyond the stars, and with him great strength of warships, and weapons I do not understand," Dena replied.
"Such are the visions of our Seer," Cyane confirmed, "yet this will not come to pass before you ascend to the status of a Goddess, and in her visions you yourself wield weapons of incomprehensible power."
"These things I have seen as well, yet to become the Goddess I must achieve the Balance of Dark and Light, and win the chakram. But there is more. I will never find the temple of its resting place alone. I will be guided there only after I find my soul mate, the reincarnation of Valerie Havarr, and though I have seen her home in a dream, I have not found it in all my travels."
Cyane pondered this, and accepted it as part of the prophecy.
"Dena, the time is not yet ripe for the achievement of your destiny. Yet it will be soon, of this the Amazons have no doubt. And it shall be done, for this is the Will of the Great Power that comes down from above the Gods."
"Then I shall await its revelation, for what more can a mortal do?"
So Dena took her leave of the High Queen of the Amazon Nation, and she returned to the north marches of New Hellas.
In that time a number of warlords roamed the hinterlands, hunted and desperate men, outlawed by the king, and hunted by the Army and the Amazons alike. One of these was Gorthus, who ranged about the lands of northern Macedon, having raised an army of near three hundred men. He preyed on small towns and isolated farmsteads, knowing the cities were beyond his reach, and he lived in fear of the Army of Macedon and the rumor of the Warrior Princess.
In the late spring, Gorthus plundered the town of Markal in the north of Macedon, and taking his spoils and the slaves he captured, he returned to his stronghold, west of the Vardar River. This report came to the ears of Dena, whom people now called the Warrior Princess, and she resolved to end his predations. She enlisted the help of the local militias of the towns most at risk, and rode to meet them where they had agreed to muster their strength.
☼
The hamlet of Lintell held the market for the farmers of the surrounding countryside, and the shops of a few tradesmen, but little more. It was Friday, the 27th of May, and it was market day. From the outlying homesteads came farmers hoping to sell their wares and buy the things they could not produce themselves. Among them a girl, days shy of her seventeenth birthday, entrusted by her mother to sell some chickens, and contract for the smith to shoe their horses. By midday she had sold the chickens, getting a good price, for she was sharp at bargaining, and she wandered among the shops, window shopping for what she couldn't afford, and daydreaming of places she couldn't go. She heard the hoof beats of riders entering the hamlet, but thought nothing of it, for many came through on the road, and many came to market. Before she realized what had happened they were under attack, and the attackers, gritty desperate looking men, drew swords, and slew several who resisted. She herself had grabbed up a pole, the handle of a hoe, and attempted to escape, but she was taken, a dirty rider knocking away her makeshift weapon as if it were a joke.
Along with fourteen others she was tied at the wrists, and all were roped together in a line. The leader of the dozen men who had attacked them told them to do as they were told or they would be slain, for they were now slaves, and he was their master. Then they were marched away down the road.
They walked for hours it seemed, and her legs grew tired, but the slavers drove them on, hoping to reach their stronghold by dusk. She felt the hopelessness of a captive, who having lost her freedom, fears what the next moment and the next day will bring. Her life had brought her ups and downs, and though there was sorrow in her past, she felt most of her life had been good. Yet always inside her there had been a longing, and the knowledge that she had a destiny, and her dreams had given her hope and faith. Yet now her dreams seemed to be falling to ashes, and she doubted she would ever be a free woman, for she had heard tales of slavery, and the slave's life was neither long nor happy. They had come many miles when she heard behind her the swift beats of a horse's hooves, and their captors looked behind where they came from, and she saw the fear in their eyes. To her amazement, half the slavers fled into the woods. Then things moved quickly, for a warrior rode down their line, and to her horror the heads of three of their captors were hewn off and rolled in the dirt at their feet.
☼
Dena was a day from the massing of the militias when she met fleeing farmers on the road, and they told a tale of an attack, in which some men of Gorthus' army had despoiled their hamlet, and taken prisoners as slaves. Then Dena, although she was alone, sped towards the hamlet on Argo, for she knew that to free these prisoners she would have to engage their captors before they reached their stronghold. She crested a hilltop, and below her in the valley she spied a train of fifteen captives, and the outlaws who drove them numbered a dozen. Then she charged Argo in pursuit, and she ate up the distance between them, and the men heard the approach of the war-horse, and they turned to offer battle. Thundering towards them down that isolated country road was the specter of their nightmares, Dena, the Heiress of the Goddess of War, for all knew her gear. Then half of them fled into the woods on the sides of the road, and the six who remained did so not out of courage, but because they were petrified with fear. Dena rode down their line, and in her first pass beheaded three with her sword from horseback. Then she leapt from Argo, and though all three remaining bandits attacked her at once, to her they fought like children, and she slew them in as many strokes.
Now Dena went to free the prisoners who rejoiced at their unlooked for liberation, and she hewed the ropes that bound them together, and that bound their wrists. Ninth in the line of fifteen captives was a girl in her teens, shivering from the violence she had witnessed, and when Dena saw her she stopped dead, and looked at her, trapped by her eyes. No threat or bond had ever held her so immobile, for these bonds surrounded not her limbs, but her heart. The moments passed while for each of them the outer world ceased to be. Then Dena freed her of the slavers' ropes and again neither could escape the other's gaze. And Dena wrapped her arms around the girl until her shaking stopped, and she finally felt the empty place inside her filled with a glow of warmth. For some minutes they embraced, yet finally it was the girl who spoke first through her tears of happiness and relief.
"So many years I looked down the road from my home, longing for the return of the one in my dreams who has held my heart, but always I have been alone."
"I have dreamed of you also, years ago," Dena replied, feeling her heart thaw, "and I have searched for you for these last years, knowing I would find you, and missing you each day I did not."
"I have watched you in so many dreams over the years, and in my darkest hour I felt your spirit close by. I have waited for my destiny all this time, with faith and with hope."
"Our destiny lies together in this life, as it has so many times in the past, and I too have been waiting for my destiny with faith and hope."
"My name this time is Varielle."
"My name this time is Dena."
Dena almost forgot to cut the other prisoners free, so focused was she on Varielle, and her heart had never been lighter, nor had she ever felt so complete. And that night, after the prisoners returned to their hamlet, Dena sat with Varielle in the kitchen of the farmhouse she had searched for so long, talking far into the night. There Dena learned that since childhood Varielle had been given prophetic dreams, and that these always came true, and she shared many revelations, for she had seen much of Dena's past. And on that night, in the hidden city to the northeast, the High Queen of the United Amazon Nation and her Seer rejoiced, for they had witnessed the meeting in their visions.
In the morning, Dena rode to meet the militias, and in the following week she captured the army of Gorthus, taking him and dragging him to the nearest city council in chains, rather than hewing off his head as she had expected. Then she returned to the farm where Varielle waited, for it was the night of her birthday celebration, and the people were honored by the presence of the Warrior Princess, their liberator. Thus Dena finally met Varielle, "her Valerie, her Gabrielle", and her destiny moved forward, for the time of Armageddon approached, and there was much yet to be achieved.
☼
All through the summer Dena and Varielle traveled together, sometimes riding on Argo, and sometimes walking side by side. Even in her journeys with Najilla, Dena had never felt the closeness or the fierce protectiveness she felt for Varielle. The teenager had a raging curiosity about almost everything, and soaked up every bit of information Dena gave her, but always her particular interest was in the history of New Hellas, and the lore of the Goddesses. Dena was so happy to share what she knew, for she was reminded of her early years, eating up the stories of the travelers at her mother's inn. For the first time in years, Dena was content to lay up in an inn, spending days simply telling Varielle of their history, their past lives, and how these lives had shaped the world they lived in. At times, Dena was surprised when Varielle filled in some detail based on her own dreams, and any dreams either had, they discussed together. As the summer flew by, Dena also instructed Varielle in the basics of weapons, and two in particular, the staff and the Sai. To Dena this was necessity, and Varielle learned quickly, as though remembering rather than learning afresh. The Sai, as Najilla had once convinced her, allowed one to defend against a sword attack, while the staff gave reach over a sword, allowing a defender to maintain a safer distance. Dena had no doubts that a time would come when Varielle would need to defend herself if she continued to follow the Heiress of the Goddess of War, and neither questioned that she would. For Varielle was the Heiress of the Goddess of History and Knowledge, and she walked in the image of Valerie Havarr.
☼
In the New Kingdom, after the demonstration of the weapon, the preparations moved along faster, and the warships were nearly complete. The squadron of 64 warships would fly within days, fully armed. His own warship, which he christened the Spirit of Battle, had been completed months ago, and now, more and more often, he would feel the call of the stars, and he would lift from the planet and haunt the void. At times he was content to speed through space, jumping when the fancy took him, and flying maneuvers for his pleasure at other times. And sometimes, when the mood was upon him, he would find a system with a world whose ill fate had left it circling too close to its sun, and he would blast that molten world to vapor.
All the centuries of development had not been wasted, for his memory let him compare these new ships with the old, and between his ship and the Ares there would be no contest. His new ship was faster, more maneuverable, and better armed. M/AM torpedoes? He had those aboard. X-ray laser? Yes, and his could target six hostiles at a time instead of four. Shields? His ship could disappear at will. Sensors? He would know the Ares at 10 parsecs. All was well in his world, and soon, very soon, he would again wage war. It had been too long. And what was a War God without a war? Bored.
☼
The summer had progressed, and July was gone, and August was in its final days. Dena and Varielle had come to Thessal, and Dena had met her brother Taris, at the garrison of the Second Division, in Larissa, and they had celebrated his 26th birthday together. She had introduced him to Varielle, and smirked at the smitten looks he gave her, for to her eyes she was even more desirable than Val was in her dreams. They spent the night in mirth and the warmth of sibling affection, finally parting late in the night, for Taris had duty in the first watch. That night Dena and Varielle lay sleeping in the inn they had chosen, and they dreamed, and for the first time their dreams were the same.
She had the eyes of the Eagle of Attica, and on its wings of gold she flew, spiraling up from the city of Athenae into the heavens, rejoicing in her freedom and her mastery of flight. Below her the lands of Attica passed, and far to the south, the blue of the sea she could discern, and the islands of the Cyclades and Kritis, and further still, on the horizon a hint of the realm of Aegypt. Then she turned north, and the wind ruffled the feathers of her wings as she banked, and with powerful strokes propelled herself over the kingdom of New Hellas towards Thessal, where the mountains broke the clouds. And the miles passed swiftly beneath her, and in what seemed an instant, there before her was Olympia, of all mountains, most blessed. She circled its heights, the clouds a puffy blanket below, and she saw the majesty of the temples of the Goddesses on the summit, their marble twinkling in the sun, and she rejoiced in them, but they were not her goal. Now she dropped, losing the great altitude to favor of the acuity of vision with which she was blessed, leveling her flight at a height which would show her the passage of a man below. Over woods she flew, north by west from the temples, and she came to a place of sheer cliffs where the side of Mt. Olympia fell 2,000 feet into a valley below. And in the woods she recognized two figures, a warrior and a farm girl, moving with stealth through the trees. She followed their progress towards the cliff, and they arrived near the edge of the woods, and before them was a temple within a walled compound. She circled the temple watching the figures approach, watching as they passed through the gate, and watching as they entered the building. Time passed, and then came flashes, and lightning struck, up from the temple and into the sky. Finally the figures left the temple, but now they had an aura of power that hadn't been there before. The Eagle rose into the sky, marking where the temple stood, and committing to memory everything about it. Then she flew higher, and the world dropped away. Higher still, and the blue of the sky darkened, and yet higher so that she saw the black of the void and the billion stars of the firmament spread out forever, for by her choice she flew to touch the stars.
Morning came and they woke, both wondering at what they had dreamed, and when they discovered they had deramed the same dream they were convinced of its prophetic nature. And Dena discerned that something at the temple offered her a change, and she felt the force of her destiny driving her, and so they decided to turn their steps toward Olympia, for the Eagle had shown them that they would walk there. The trip from Larissa to Mt. Olympia was scarcely 30 miles, but all of that was uphill, and the closer they came the steeper the path. Still they expected to reach the temples on the second day.
After breakfast they packed, and riding Argo while the land still lay gently sloping up, they left the inn at the third candle mark of the first watch, and took the north road. They stopped at the opening of the second watch, in a clearing under oaks near a stream, and they shared an afternoon meal. Here the land began to turn rise in earnest, and the road grew steeper, and being not in haste, they chose to spare Argo and walk. They saw few on the road save a group of pilgrims returning from the temples on Mt. Olympia. They admired the country that increased in scenic beauty with the altitude. The candle marks of the second watch passed without incident, and they walked at peace, talking together of many things, but mostly of their destiny.
"For years I have lived with the knowledge of some impending doom," Dena said, "and that I must fight a war in the heavens. I still don't know how I can do this beyond what Dale and Val have shown me in dreams."
"In my dreams I have seen the battle," Varielle commented, "and the ship bearing the sigil of war is defeated. The problem is, I don't really understand what I've seen."
"Even my dream was pretty confusing, and that was with the Goddesses there to show me things. Without them I'd be completely baffled."
"It seems like these dreams have a common theme. When the conflict comes you will find yourself prepared to meet it."
"I guess that makes me uncomfortable. I've spent all my life learning to control my body and my weapons. I've worked hard to control my senses. I've spent years on strategy and tactics so I can control situations in battle, and the biggest battle of my life I can't prepare for because I don't understand anything about it."
"Well, it sounds like this is going to be a matter of faith. Didn't you tell me the Amazon Queen said, this destiny comes from the Great Power, from above the Gods?"
"Yes, that's what Cyane told me her Seer said." Dena confirmed.
"Then that's it. I think everything you've been doing is in preparation for this war. I mean, if you are the champion of the Great Power, it wouldn't let you fail would it?"
"I see your point. I guess I feel a lot of pressure about this. The really unnerving part is that I don't know what the objective is. I couldn't tell victory from defeat. What am I supposed to protect? What am I supposed to prevent?"
"Well, I think that will become evident when the battle starts. After all, the enemy has to want something, right? So whatever he wants, don't give it to him...simple, right?"
Dena gave Varielle a smile, for her logic was simplistic but irrefutable. The things she said did make sense, and without better information she couldn't understand more.
"Until I find out otherwise, I guess you're right." Dena agreed.
At the fourth candle mark of the second watch they stopped, having found a camping spot under spreading trees with the stream again nearby. Now the stream ran faster down the grade, and it spoke softly over the stones in its increased haste, giving a sweet background to their words as they unloaded Argo's bags and removed her saddle. Dena attended to her horse while Varielle began to set up their camp, and in truth there was little to prepare. Deadfall littered the ground for a fire, and the stream provided water a couple dozen paces away. She cleared rocks from a space for their bedrolls, and used them to make a circle for their cook fire. Then, placing tinder and kindling under some larger sticks, she struck sparks with steel against a flint, and gently blew the smoldering tinder to flame.
Dena watched Varielle work, as she absently brushed the mare, captivated by her movements and even the simplest things she did. For this hardened warrior there was a revelation of sublime beauty in the everyday activities her soul mate performed, like a sunrise, she thought, or the rainbow hues in the scales of a fish. The wonders of creation that surround us at each turn are there before us, to appreciate if we are willing to see them for the treasures that they are. It was a priceless moment, one of those that come without warning, unplanned and unforgettable, and giving rise to myriad associations within the mind. It left her in a contemplative mood that lingered throughout the evening, not melancholy, but rather appreciative and sympathetic. If it could have been seen, one would have testified that Dena's heart grew larger, and this was achieved, not as softness at the expense of her warrior prowess, but as an added layer next to it, increasing her complexity, not diminishing her resolve.
Argo had never looked better, and she nickered her thanks for the attention Dena gave her, and after stroking her neck, Dena came and joined Varielle by the fire. Soon they were sharing the contents of a pot of stew, made from dried meat, onions, mushrooms, and carrots. Varielle had added herbs she found near their site. It was better to their palates than many meals from taverns, for eating under the stars always makes food more satisfying. After their meal and the cleanup, they lay on their bedrolls, staring at the stars and quietly talking. And sometimes they would lapse into a comfortable silence, each with their own thoughts. The stream whispered, and the fire crackled, and their soft breathing completed the lullaby, and before they knew it they slept.
Dena found herself aboard a warship, and she was in command of that warship, and it was the Moment of Truth. To do or to do not, to be or to be not. "Before the Will of a Great Power even the Gods may be scattered in the wind of its passing." Her finger hovered over the button. Before her the warship of the God of War charged to fire again, and her shields were destroyed. "Two rings to hold the dark and light." To stay her hand would mean the destruction of her ship, and soon Ares would hold all the worlds in thrall. To push the button would unleash a power never seen in this galaxy, perhaps in the universe, and what then, no one knew. "One day we shall bring you comfort, for we have seen your darkest hour". The warship of Ares reached full charge. It was now or never. "Only with love and faith is there a cause for hope". And her finger slammed down.
She started awake with a gasp, tears running down her face, and she didn't know why. For a moment, while the feelings of the dream lingered, but after the images had fled she was lost, whimpering and hugging herself and rocking. Never had a dream affected her so profoundly, even childhood nightmares paled next to the feelings of fear, and uncertainty, then hopelessness, and crushing loss. Beside her Varielle awoke, and the condition of her soul mate broke her heart. From what nightmare of torment, or bloodshed, or violence she came so damaged, she did not know. At that moment it didn't matter. Here was the one who had saved her from slavers, the one whom she had waited for all her life. She came to Dena and grabbed her, crushing her to her chest, stroking her head and back, burying her face against her shoulder, and muttering nonsense to her in a calming tone. Gradually she relaxed, and her breathing slowed from racing, and the rocking stopped, and whimpering, but the tears continued to fall, and they didn't stop even when Dena fell back down into sleep. Varielle held her far into the night, wrapped tight around her as if to protect her from her fears, and whether it was from the warmth of her body, or the motion of her breathing, or the beating of her heart, Dena slept, and dreamed no more.
"One day I will bring you comfort, for I have seen your darkest hour," Varielle whispered, as she wiped away Dena's tears.
Eventually Varielle drowsed, and then she slept, and under the stars it could have been at any time, or in any place, for it was a scene played out again and again, in a succession of lives reaching back over 10,000 years. And finally she dreamed.
She stood in the Temple of the Goddess of History and Knowledge on Mt. Olympia, in the center where the dome was open to the sky, and before her stood her twin, Valerie Havarr.
"Hi Varielle, glad to meet you finally," the Goddess said, with a wide smile, "you're really cute, no wonder Dena's so whipped."
Varielle blushed a deep red.
"I really need to talk to you," Val said, "and embarrassing you was only part of the reason."
"Val, Dena had a really bad dream..."
"Yeah, sorry about that. She saw another vignette of the battle you call Armageddon. A lot of pressure in that one, but she's better off with some foreknowledge. We don't want her going into this one cold."
"Does she have a chance at all?" Varielle asked.
"Oh she'll win if she doesn't freeze up at the critical moment. It's just a matter of faith. But that's not what I need to talk to you about. I need you to bring her here after you visit that temple tomorrow. I have another message for her."
"Well ok, sure."
"Another thing I need you to do, " Val said, looking into Varielle's eyes seriously, "we made many modifications to the warship we have for her. Dale had 465 years, and she did some amazing things, but the main thing is that Dena will have to make a choice, and she'll have to push a button, because the weapon Dale built can't be activated automatically. There just wasn't any other way."
"What weapon?"
"Well, it's hard to explain. I'm not a science major, but I can tell you it's a negative weapon, or an anti-weapon, I guess you could say. Oh hell, I know that doesn't make much sense to you. I barely understand it myself. Dale said that matter and energy are really the same thing, like ice and steam are really just water, so anti-matter and anti-energy are the same. Does that make any sense?"
"Uhhh, what's anti-matter?"
"It's what's in the torpedoes...Dena saw a holo of them when we showed her where the warship is, and if you tell her what I've told you she'll have an idea of what you mean. She really doesn't need to know anything except that it's there, and it can destroy the whole galaxy...maybe the whole universe. We really aren't sure."
"Geeez. You mean she's going to have to decide whether or not to destroy the universe?" Varielle asked in horror. No wonder Dena had woken up so traumatized.
"Yeah," the Goddess answered with a smile, "but she'll be ok. Dale wouldn't let anything happen to her, I think."
Varielle woke up in a cold sweat. No one had ever told her such horrible things in such a nice way. She watched Dena sleeping and she pitied her.
In the east the sun had lit the sky, and the light was reflected back on the land in a glow that promised the coming of the day. Soon it would rise, blazing, above the horizon as it had since the world began. And my love could destroy it all, she thought, and all the billion stars.
Not ten miles away, on the summit of Mt. Olympia slept the warship. What had the Goddess of War created? She'd known in the moment she'd spared his life, on that distant world of the New Kingdom, that one day Ares would return. He would come from the depths of the void, armed as never before, consumed by darkness, and demanding vengeance. It had happened before.
Over the centuries Dale Sherril had changed the warship, and it was no longer the Ares. She had gutted the Icarus III for parts, and she had created something even she had feared. She was grateful to go with Val when she died, never having had to activate her creation. But the ship had slept on, waiting for the red button to be pushed, bringing it to life. And perhaps the black button too would be pushed, and the ship Dale had rechristened as the Ides of March would change into something never seen in all the years of the Kingdom. It would become the warship Moment of Truth.
☼
The sun rose above the horizon and all the east blazed in its light. The world took on its colors, and Varielle and Dena awoke and took on their destiny. After a quick meal they broke camp, and leading Argo, they walked uphill on the road towards the summit of Mt. Olympia. The day was bright, but the air was cool, for they were already at 7,400 feet above sea level. There was a pleasant breeze, and they would have enjoyed the scenery but for the turmoil in their hearts. They compared their dreams, and neither found comfort in what they learned, for the foreknowledge of unavoidable suffering taints the present with apprehension of the future. They stopped at midday but neither felt hungry, and soon they resumed the journey. Now they had reached 8,800 feet, and the temples lay only two miles distant. They could see the sun reflected off the white of their columns.
They reached the temples at the changing of the watch but didn't enter. Now they followed the vision of the Eagle, and made their way northwest through a woods. As they approached they moved with increasing stealth, for this was unknown territory, and both were jumpy. Here and there the remains of bodies littered their way, many long dead, crumbling to dust. Too soon the trees thinned, and ahead they could discern a place where the land ended, and beyond it, clouds. Dena tied Argo to a small tree, and she and Varielle moved forward. Ahead a stele stood, the right side white marble, the left side black granite. And upon it they saw a carving depicting a scale, evenly balanced, and in the pans of the scale two rings were carved. Behind the scale was the symbol of the chakram, the s-curve horizontal. Beside the stele were the remains of many men, those who in their ambition had come to claim the chakram, and found their enemies ahead of them with the same desire. It had happened many times in the years after the Deaths of the Goddesses, and after the fighting the victor would proceed to the temple to die.
"At last," Dena said, "the resting place of the chakram is revealed. Now surely destiny plays its hand and our lives will never be the same."
"It is your destiny to win the chakram and become the Goddess of War, Dena. This was fated by the Great Power. I guess it's the very reason you were born."
"I'd prefer to make my own destiny and have a few choices."
"From what my dreams have shown, you'll have to make plenty of choices. A lot of them pretty hard."
"You know," Dena said after a few moments, "I've wanted to find this place my whole life, and now I think I'd like to just take you and turn around and leave."
They looked at each other and both could see a simpler life together in their minds' eyes, and though it tempted them they both knew that it could never be.
"You are called to walk the blade's edge..." they had told Dena. "To you is given the choice to fall or to fly, and such is the choice given to all mankind. If you fall you shall fall lower than any living thing, yet if you fly you shall touch the stars".
There would be no refusal, and there could be no going back.
Dena drew her sword and they made their way from the cover of the trees. Ahead of them stood the temple they had seen in their dream. Beyond it the land fell away and there were only clouds. Warily they advanced, for Dena's senses were afire. They crossed a cleared space and came to a gate set in the wall encircling the temple. It stood open, and they flattened themselves against the wall beside it. Dena slowly moved to glance through the gate, first with one eye, then with her head alone exposed. She saw no movement, heard no one, and she felt the presence of no living thing. Together they entered the courtyard and quickly made their way to the temple doors. These too stood open, for having entered, those who had come here had died, and none had remained to close them. Above the doors the same symbol of the scale was carved into the frieze below the cornice.
Again Dena cautiously glanced around the threshold. The interior of the temple was deserted, and the light inside was dim, filtering into the space from clerestory windows above. They stood on the threshold letting their eyes adjust to the dimness, and soon they could make out the interior, every surface covered thick with dust. Here and there lay the desiccated remains of those who had sought the chakram and failed its test. Many bodies mummified in the dry mountain air. Varielle shivered, and Dena stroked her shoulders and gave her a weak smile. She too was nervous, but she focused on the space, concentrating, immersing herself in her surroundings, living in the present.
In the center of the temple was a circular altar, and upon it Dena could see the glint of metal. They entered the Temple of the Chakram.
"Two rings to hold the dark and light, and through eternity remain..." she muttered. She took a deeper breath, and her resolve hardened as it did before the challenge of battle, and then she whispered, "Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
Varielle was standing next to her, hugging herself against the chill air, and looking at the altar. Dena felt a wave of tenderness for her, and the fierce protectiveness it often led to. If anything happened to her Dena knew she would never forgive herself, not in this life, and not in the next.
"If this doesn't work, I want you to take my sword, and sell it, then pay for your passage home. My ghost would find no rest if I knew I'd brought you to harm." In truth the sword of the Heiress of the Goddess of War would have fetched a city's ransom.
"I know you'll succeed," Varielle said, looking into her eyes with certainty, "You've dreamed this, and so have I, and my dreams always come true, you know that."
"You're right," Dena replied, moved deeply by her certainty, "it's just a matter of faith."
Dena sheathed her sword, for if there was an enemy present it was the enemy within.
She moved to the altar, standing where Dale Sherril had stood in the message Val had shown her so long ago. She took a breath and lifted her hands over the chakrams, lying on the symbols of their elements, one dark, one light. For this I was born, and for this I have been trained, she thought. She took a deeper breath, clearing all from her mind, and as she exhaled away the confusion and conflict and doubt, she let her hands drop onto the rings. Dena registered the chill of the metal, and it remained cool to her touch, as metal should. She felt none of the burning that had killed all the others who had tried. She lifted the rings from the altar, both at the same time, and still she felt nothing, save their weight in her hands. Slowly she lifted them, and bringing her hands together she held them up, superimposed upon each other, as the "Ancient One" had done 10,000 years before.
And then the lightning the Eagle had seen began to radiate from the rings. The bolts fired in all directions, some striking the temple walls, some striking her body. Against the wall Varielle was struck, and she sank to her knees. The bolts increased in intensity and number, blasting through the roof into the heavens, declaring to the world that at this moment a Goddess is born. Then came a flash, blinding to the eyes, of pure white light that even the sun at noon could not produce, and then there was silence.
Dena opened her eyes, and in her hands she held a single ring, in its center the s-curve like the design on the altar, and it was comfortable in her hands. She clipped it to the clasp at her hip. For several moments her eyes glowed like those of a newborn Goddess, and then they faded back to blue. Behind her Varielle had regained her feet, blinking to clear her vision, and shaking the strange sensations from her head. She watched as Dena turned towards her, and she could see the Flame of Immortality that burned within her, and she rejoiced.
Dena turned from the altar, concern for her soul mate returning, and she looked to see Varielle standing by the temple wall, and she rejoiced, for with the sight of a Goddess she saw the Flame of Immortality burning within her soul.
"Hail and well met, Goddess of War," Varielle said, saluting her, right fist over her heart, a radiant smile on her face.
"Hail and well met, Goddess of History and Knowledge," Dena replied, smiling as she saw astonishment grow on Varielle's face.
Dena moved to where Varielle stood, and taking her in her arms, she kissed her with the passion of a Goddess, and she gasped as the kiss was returned with equal strength. They parted, and turning, made their way out of the temple, through the yard, and back into the woods. And again, to the northeast, in a hidden city far away, the High Queen of the United Amazon Nation, and her Seer, and half-a-million gathered warriors rejoiced, for the shaft of light that blasted up from the temple was seen throughout the lands, and they alone understood the significance.
☼
From the woods they made their way back to the temples bringing Argo, and they entered the Temple of the Goddess of History and Knowledge, and they navigated the passages, and they entered the open center under the dome. No uncertainty clouded the way any longer, for what simple maze could confuse the Goddess in her own temple, or her consort, the Goddess of War.
They walked to the statue of Valerie Havarr, and again Dena stood on the glass symbol of the chakram embedded in the statue's base, and reaching out, touched the crystal the figure held. This time the machines under the temple recognized the energy signature of the Goddess, and they selected a message, and played it back.
"Hi sexy," Val said in her provocative way, "glad you made it. Now we've got a lot of work to do. If you're standing here that means you've taken the chakram, and soon Ares will be coming."
Dena glanced at Varielle, who was standing with her hands on her hips regarding Val's image.
"If your sweetheart is here she can see me too, so I guess I shouldn't do anything lewd," she said, giggling.
"Val, this is serious," Dale Sherril said, entering the hologram, "they're going to have to fight Ares, who they've never met, in a warship they've never seen, using weapons we've never tested, and we're not sure when, except that it's going to be soon."
"Ok, ok, just trying to keep them from freaking, ya know," Val said looking at her lover.
"Dena," Dale said, "I'm going to tell you some very important things, and you have to remember what I'm going to say. First, we showed you how to find the warship, and now you have the key. The holo you watched was of the ship when it was still the Ares, but it's a different ship now, I made a lot of changes. Call it the Ides of March. The name has significance to us all, and since it's under thought command it has to be commanded like you would a horse, by its name. Second, you saw the red button. That activates the ship. There's also a black button right next to it, and that activates the weapon. Don't Push It Until You're Ready To Fire. Once you do, it will charge, and it will wait for the incoming radiation signature of at least a class eleven weapon. I know that means squat to you. Don't worry, the ship will take care of that part. It will fire automatically when the precise conditions are met. After that I'm not completely sure what will happen, but I can guarantee it will destroy the warship that fires on it, and a lot more besides. Understand? Good. Third, I have a theory, but no way to prove it until you fire. All through the ages, the Spirit of Battle has pitted Dark against Light, forcing a search for the Balance. It's worked well enough, but the "Ancient One" claims we can't afford this kind of conflict anymore. She feels a new enemy. That's what I've based my weapon on. I think the Cycle ends here, and I hope you prove me right. Well, that's it, and good luck."
"Yeah, good luck," Val added, and the hologram vanished.
☼
Above the world of the New Kingdom 65 warships lifted into the sky, and they accelerated through the clouds, following their God. The squadron leaped to meet the black of the void, and the billion stars greeted them. The warriors aboard them had spent a relatively short two months in training, but their Lord was impatient. They entered the cold of the void, reaching for the threshold speed, and achieving it, they jumped.
Ares had provided the coordinates from memory, and they were flawless, for what is 7,000 years to the memory of a God. In an instant the squadron terminated, appearing at the trailing Lagrange Point behind a giant moon, and they rested in its gravity shadow as their Lord scanned for clues on the planet below. They remained on station as his warship edged closer to what they realized was a Cardinal world, and they suspected it was the original home world, the world without end. They would have rejoiced, and perhaps even mutinied, rejecting their mission of destruction, if they had still been human.
"Home at last," Ares thought, "and the place doesn't look much the worse for wear. Oh, it's not the world we left behind. It's much more primitive. But it reminds me of the world I grew up in, and that's just fine with me, for all it matters. Now, let's see about the chakram."
Dena and Varielle stood digesting the information the hologram had shown. They had more questions than answers. Dena still didn't understand the objectives of the upcoming battle, and she didn't have any idea how she'd know when to push the black button. Only about a quarter candle mark had passed when from the temple of the Goddess of War came an alarm. It was so loud it could be heard for miles, and it was Dale's voice speaking.
"Alert, Incoming ships. Alert, Incoming ships. 65 ships have terminated jumps at the trailing Lagrange Point. Colonial Defense Forces Configuration; modified variant 144. Active shields at level 6. Squadron of 64 ships: Weapons detected in classes 11b, and 12b. Flagship: Weapons detected in classes 11d, and 12b. Analysis; Invasion force, flagship scanning planet from 900 miles altitude, speed 35,000 mph. Squadron on station at Trailing Lagrange point. Response; Imperative."
They listened to the message the first time it played, but when it began to repeat they vanished, and reappeared in the antis of the Temple of the Goddess of War, while Argo returned to grazing in the center of the temple.
It was the end of their world.
Back to FanFic Index