Amazon_Signs of the Secret

by Ms. Becky J. Rhush

  “What about Palius? Did the Queen get-”

  “Bartamius has her.” He whispered in close to me. “He told me to round up the braves and then we’re breaking back to Pahll-sus.”

  I sat a moment, waiting for more details. When none came, I shrugged. "Alright.”

  “You’re to go with us.” He said in a tone implying I knew this. “That’s why Bartamius is looking for you.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I have to find Sara first.”

  “But it’s your Queen’s order.”

  “Tythose,” I glanced around, checking to be sure we were still alone, “I’m not leaving without her.”

  “I’m certain Perseathea can find your friend-”

  “I’m not leaving either one of them.” I cut him off. “It’s my fault the Queen is here in the first place. You’ll have to go without me.”

  “If you stay here,” he took a firm grip of my arm, his eyes cautioning, “you’ll come under Gragore’s power.”

  “I’ve seen Gragore’s power.” I pried his fingers from me. “He is no more than a man. Barely that. He is no different than any other when I have a blade in my hand. He ran just as soon as these Amazons-”

  “He ran to his witch, Askca.” Tythose interrupted. “She is his power. Yes, he is only a man, but with the Dark Oracle at his side he becomes much more. He’s now a feared and dreaded warlord. A rapist. A murderer. That witch conjured this very day. ”

  “Flesh is flesh to my blade, no matter who it is.”

  “She conjures still more, Askca. Your blade can’t cut through destiny. She has given him the power of fate.”

  I lifted my chin, feeling insulted. “And I have a fate.”

  “And she is a seer, Askca. She must see you tangled in this dark web or she wouldn’t have summoned him after you.”

  I rubbed my forehead. “I won’t leave.”

  Tythose paused, shaking his head. “Then go, but never for a moment forget his purpose for you. More depends on you than merely your own people. The lives of many more innocents hang in the balance. Gragore is a destroyer to many.”

  I swallowed, realizing for the first time that several lands would be affected by this day’s fate. Tythose leaned in, implicating that he knew more than he intended to reveal.

  “Gragore cannot rise.”

  “He won’t.” I assured him, uncertain if I could fulfill the words I had just given oath to.

  Casting another glance down the wall, Tythose went back to his words. “Bartamius is gathering the braves in the stable furthest down this row.” He gestured with his eyes. “If your chance comes, meet us there.”

  I grasped Tythose by the elbow, and he grabbed mine in return. We shook in respect.

  “I will,” I squeezed his arm, “but do not wait for me. Get Palius out of here.” Tythose nodded and I slipped up from our hold, lifting. “And get yourself out of here. Alive.”

  “You as well, young Amazon.”

  I turned from him, leaving the stable to sprint down the alleyway, the battle waiting at its’ end. As the sunlight of afternoon fell on my face, the scent of blood wafted heavy over me. Heavier than just moments before.

  Cold crawled down Saratiese’s throat, pricking like icy fingers into her lungs. Before the blue haze could possess her, she coughed the frosty air back up, trying to breathe, to run, but the witch’s black eyes drained her.

  “Stay….Stay….” The word haunted into her mind over and over.

  A tingle splintered through Saratiese’s body, icing her into submission. Heavy. Stinging. She fought to take a step, but her leg refused, dragging like a dead limb. The witch’s spell paralyzed her. The Dark Oracle, skulking like a red robed specter, levitated forward, closing the gap between them. Saratiese could feel her energy depleting, sinking her feet to the floor like rocks dropped to a lake bottom. Forcing the last of her strength, she pushed, somehow ripping loose from the heavy cold.

  Snapping loose of the witch’s curse, she could still feel the cold fingers pulling at her back. With her breath flooding back, she threw herself into a sprint down the stairwell. She spiraled down the winding steps, the stones blurring beneath her bare feet. The white breath left her, warmth coming back into her chest. Her side burned as she skimmed a hand down the winding stone wall, guiding herself in a race down the stairwell.

  When the procession of steps ended, Saratiese found the bottom foyer empty, and breathed out a sigh of relief. She slowed her pace, cautious to who else might be around. Sneaking on light feet, she ran fingers through her brunette locks, sweeping them from her eyes. A series of chamber doors loomed down the corridor in front of her. She had no idea which one might lead out.

  Tip toeing, she passed each door, careful of every sound. Approaching the end of the hall, she snuck a peek around the corner. Empty. Every soldier must be at battle. Running through a succession of walkways, her footsteps whispered under the flicker of torchlight until a glimpse of daylight beckoned to her from ahead. A warm breeze snaked across her shoulders, and as the hall turned she found herself at one end of a balcony overlooking the yard. The clatter of battle attacked her ears, loud and angry, bringing the stink of gore with it.

  Realizing she was exposed, she dropped to her knees. Crawling to the nearest pillar, she peered down, searching for Askca. For the Queen. For her friends. A swarm of red and yellow clad Amazons tangled into the mass of black armor, and she realized at once she did not know any of them. Glimpsing across the walkway, Saratiese moved her search to a way down, but the balcony offered no steps. Jumping to her feet, she launched into another run.

  She turned her thoughts to Askca and kept searching a way to the yard. Sweeping a last look over her shoulder, she determined. She wasn’t being followed. Turning back, Saratiese saw a flash of black blocking her path. With no time or space to stop, she ran straight into the barrel-chested man. He stood as solid as a wall, propelling her backward to the stone floor in a jarring thud.

  “She told me you were coming,” Gragore smirked down on her, “and she’s always right.”

  Saratiese began shuffling in reverse, but Gragore slid a silver dagger before she could pull back up to her feet. The silver shined at her, glinting like the ones in the chamber she‘d just escaped. The warlord prowled into a crouch, grappling after her.

  “No!”

  She shrieked, but he lynched into her throat, cutting off her sound. Eyes bugging, she wheezed in thin breaths around his iron fingers.

  “I won’t let you take this from me. She tells me I shouldn’t kill it,” Gragore whispered as if the witch might overhear him, “but I won’t risk it.”

  Saratiese clawed at his fingers, pulling for breath. Jerking her face in close to his, he twisted his fingers tighter on her throat.

  “You both have to die.”

  Saratiese’s heart fluttered as the silver flashed down. Heat exploded her stomach and her mouth dropped open in a gasp. His fingers dropped from her. She fumbled her shaking hands around the dagger’s hilt, the warmth of her own blood spurting her fingers. Gragore snickered, a look of fascination creasing his features as he stood up. Saratiese looked up at him, trying to focus on his blurring face.

  “The Rival is dead.”

  Saratiese wheezed for breath, but there was none. It was racing away with her blood. Gragore looked down on her, sick excitement lighting his face. Ogling her pain. Enjoying it. After a few moments, he turned his back, leaving her to bleed out.

  Fighting through shallow breaths, Saratiese lifted her head, looking down at her stomach. Bright red blared back at her from beneath the silver dagger. The crimson smeared her hands, trickling down her hip to the stone floor. Her breath sucked away, growing harder to find by the moment. She felt like boulders were crushing her chest. Her stomach. Squaring her jaw, she forced her trembling fingers to the bloody dagger. The baby is dead…. The baby is dead….

  Gritting her teeth, she clenched the sticky hilt, and in one agonizing thrust, pulled. Fire ravaged thr
ough her stomach and she screamed, dropping the dagger to the stone in a clink. Ragged breath sped her chest, shallow and fast, and her eyes squeezed shut, begging the pain to stop. Sweat surfaced her skin, hot tears welling up. Heavy sleep floated into her head, beckoning.

  With all of her fading strength, she rolled onto her side, forcing herself up onto her elbows. Then her knees. She swaggered over the blood on the stone beneath her, her eyes refusing to clear as she fumbled after the crimson tinted blade on the floor. Grasping it, she hunched up, leaning into the wall. In a sideways glance, she spotted a hanging banner. Faltering, she clasped desperate fingers into it, dropping with her weight to rip it down. Sweeping the material around her middle, she tied off the blood flow.

  The balcony, the sunlight, and the sounds of the battle below faded in and out.

  Stumbling, Saratiese finally made it to the set of steps leading down to the yard. The moment she floundered onto the edge of the battle, she heard her name.

  Chapter 68

  "Sara!" Relieved, I sprinted to the girl, pulling her into an embrace. “I was so worried for you! I‘ve been looking everywhere….”

  My words dropped off as I noticed Sara’s paling face. She looked ghostly white and misted in sweat, despite the tepid afternoon. She offered me a weak smile, wobbling off balance and clutching at her middle. It was only then that my eyes traveled down. A purple banner swaddled her, blood staining the material and seeping through to her fingers. My stomach dropped like a hot rock.

  "Oh gods…." I swept her up into her arms. Fires surrounded us, smoke choking the air as I hurdled through the packed yard. My feet slipped in the red mud puddles as I cut past the soldiers and the fighting to reach the same wall Tythose had taken me. Once there, I slid Saratiese down, easing her against the wall. Lifting the girl’s hand form the banner, my mouth dropped open. Blood sopped the cloth heavy, still trickling through, staining my own hands red.

  Hot anger turned my stomach. “Which of them did this?”

  "Gra… gore." Saratiese strained out in a shallow whisper. “To kill… the baby.”

  At those words, fury grabbed me, turning my knuckles white. Every muscle pulled rigid, and I knew what I had to do. I smoothed the sweaty hair away from her moist forehead.

  “Tythose will take you to Pahll-sus.”

  "Come with me." She grabbed my arm, her blue eyes glassy. Pleading.

  “I will come…” I put a hand to hers, “after.”

  “Please Ask-”

  "Sara, you’re stabbed too deep. It can‘t wait.”

  “I won‘t…” she dropped her touch, averting her eyes from me, “won’t leave-”

  “You will leave me!” I palmed her cheeks, forcing her to look at me. “You stay here and you’ll die. This baby will die."

  "This baby is…” she wheezed, “already dead."

  “You don’t know that. Don’t say that.” I slid my arms back under her, preparing to lift, but the girl forced me away with a weak hands. “I’m getting you out of here.”

  “No.”

  I settled her back against the wall. “What?”

  Saratiese slumped away from me, tightening her arms around her belly as she winced. “I’m dying. Just leave me….”

  “I‘m done talking about this.” Shuffling Saratiese into my hold again, I pulled up to my feet, staring down to the battle at the end of the alleyway as she bled in my arms. “You aren’t dying today, Sara.”

  “Isn’t that sweet?” A voice assaulted us from behind us. Right away something smashed into the back of my head and I tumbled forward, thrown off, pain thundering through to my eyes. Warmth suddenly oozed in my hair and down my neck. I staggered another step, loosing my balance and dropping Saratiese. Toppling down on top of her, my eyes hazed, my mind blurring. I could taste the dirt gritting my lips. Scratching my cheek. The ooze in my hair dribbled from the back of my head and sideways down my cheek. Between the pain and my sight blurring, I wasn’t certain what it was till I put a finger to it, and the tip came back red. Sleeping in and out, I forgot where I was… and dropped into black.

  Saratiese crawled a few paces, hot pain flashing her stomach, wondering what had happened. She settled onto her side, easing back onto an elbow to check on Askca, but instead found Masseeia. The First Commander looked down on her with wicked eyes, paralyzing her under the intimidating glare.

  “Looks like she was wrong.” Masseeia’s lips twisted with a grin. “You will die today.” Bending down, she yanked Askca up, tossing her over a shoulder. “You came here to die. You all came here to die.”

  Masseeia thrashed a kick into Saratiese’s wounded stomach, splattering the girl’s blood back over her boot.

  Chapter 69

  Head pounding, I tried to open my eyes. The light cut in severe, hurting me. A smoky breeze stung past, tingling through the mash of blood in my hair. I couldn’t remember what happened… or where I was, I just knew my head was throbbing. Straining, I forced a squint, my eyes refusing to focus, but the smell of horses and burning hay stirred my senses. I vaguely remembered seeing one of the stables burning.

  I shook my head, hoping to throw the ache from it, and as I did, I noticed something moving. It blurred in with the surrounding colors and shapes and I couldn‘t clear it up. Ignoring the tenderness cursing my eyes, I pushed them to open the rest of the way. My sight forsaking me, the movement before me resembled no more than a moving smudge. Giving up, I let my sore eyes shut again.

  “You’re awake.”

  The familiar voice rushed over me like cold water. Flashing my eyes open, Masseeia’s vague frame cleared, standing behind a black horse.

  “I feared I would be riding out of here with a corpse.” She shuffled something into a leather purse hanging at the steed’s flank.

  I stared, still coming out of my fog. After a few deep breaths drew me out, I realized I was tethered, arms pulled back to a post.

  “Riding…?” I repeated under my breath.

  “The battle rages out there, young warrior, and I doubt I’ve chose the victorious side.” The First Commander walked over to me, leaning into my pillar. “So, I’m galloping out of here with the prize.”

  “What prize?” I questioned, still having trouble focusing.

  “You.”

  “But….” I tried to force the pain off my eyes. “You can’t just ride off with me.”

  “Oh really?” Masseeia leaned her shoulder into mine. “And why not?”

  I swallowed, dreading my own words. “I won‘t go.”

  “Don’t be confused, Askca.” Masseeia drew back, strolling over to her horse to resume packing. “I’m not asking.”

  A lump rose up in my throat. I couldn’t let Masseeia take me out of the fortress. There’s no telling what her plans for me were and I might never again see-

  “Sara!” The name shot out of my mouth the moment I remembered.

  “Ah… yes.” The woman paused in satisfaction. “I almost forgot.”

  Fear blistered through me. Masseeia’s sneer testified that her next words would be cutting, and the thought of how dark they might run terrified me. I was scared of them. Terrified.

  “What about her?” I asked, afraid to know.

  Masseeia kept packing the saddlebags. “Saratiese, Saratiese, Saratiese….”

  “What?” I snapped, my cheeks burning under the wait. Masseeia smoothed a palm up and down her horse’s back, taking her time before answering.

  “You’re fond of her, aren’t you?”

  My mouth went dry. “Where is she?”

  “You’re very fond of her from what I‘ve seen.” Masseeia patted her steed, then walked over, twisting a palm partway around my post. “She is a very… sweet girl.”

  My jaw clenched. I didn’t like where this was going. If Masseeia was talking this way about Saratiese, then she knew well to hold the girl over my head. Saratiese was my weakness and the First Commander knew it. Even the way her words slimed over Saratiese’s name made my skin crawl. I s
wallowed, asking again a question I feared the answer to.

  “What have you done with her?”

  “Seems to me a girl as alluring as Saratiese would have her pick of warriors.” Masseeia leered down at me, provoking. “But you…? You’re so plain. So ordinary in features.”

  “Where is she!” I shouted, tired of the games.

  Masseeia paused, taunting into a smile, looking me right in the eye. Holding there. Drawing it out. Driving me mad with the wait. “Dead.”

  Like a wave, shock and grief hit me, and a cold sweat clenched my face. My stomach tightened. I thought I might vomit.

  “What?” I forced out the shaking whisper.

  “You heard me.” Masseeia lifted her boot to me, revealing the blood spatter on its’ leather. “I kicked her belly in, spilling half her guts out over my boot.”

  As she laughed, I stood trembling against the post. I couldn’t think. Speak. I couldn’t believe this. It didn’t feel real. It reminded me of the day my mother and sister died. That same suffocating feeling hung like a cold rock in my chest. I just wanted to erase the last few moments. Go back in time and banish them. Maybe if I refused them, they’d have to change.

  “It’s just as well, young warrior. You seem to attract a lively horde of murderers.” Pacing back to her horse, Masseeia put a hand on the steed’s back, flashing me a brutal grin. “Had she not died today, it would have come soon enough. Love dies when it comes near you. Have you not noticed?”

  Hate surged me, burning like liquid fire in my veins, as I glared a hole through Masseeia’s head. “I’ll cut your heart out.”

  “Cut my heart out?” Masseeia mocked, walking back to me. She clawed into my chin, fingers bruising. “You’d never find it. Not after what your mother did to me.”

  The air went like ice between us and I pulled out of her hand.

  “But today I’m taking what is mine. I’m riding out of here, stealing the prize out from under Perseathea and Gragore. And then, I’ll peddle you to the drunkards in the taverns. Sale your little lust for coin.”