“Well, there’s the Federal Youth Symphony…” Brenna bit her lip, thinking.
“You miss the point, Kas.”
“No, Theryn, our gentle artist is right on target.” Jess stood. Brenna’s nerves stretched another notch. “The City has nothing Tristaine truly needs. And under its law, if they chose to enforce it, we would have no queen. We could be forcibly segregated by race and class, as the City’s Boroughs are.”
“That’s ridiculous, Jesstin. Of course they won’t expect us to emulate—”
“We’d be denied free worship.” Constance folded her arms. “That alone leaves nothing to discuss.”
“I’m afraid I agree, Theryn.” Opal’s tone was compassionate. “I still can’t see any mix of Amazons and a Federal Government ever working.”
“Shann…” Theryn turned to her. “I appeal to you, lady. Reconsider, for all our sakes! I am confident that if I’m allowed to negotiate with Caster, I’ll be able to secure an agreement we can all live with.”
“You have outstanding skills in diplomacy and commerce, sister.” Shann rose, forming a triangle with Jess and Theryn that spanned the storyfire. “But I fear your personal ambitions might be shading your judgment.”
Theryn’s face flushed, and for a moment she couldn’t speak. “Lady…Tristaine needs a queen with vision now, capable of seeing beyond the immediate crisis. Please, be that queen!”
“I’ve looked into Caster’s eyes, Theryn. I must guide Tristaine by what I saw there,” Shann answered.
Brenna saw a ripple of unease move through the others as Theryn pressed on.
“Shann, all my sisters, you must listen to simple reason! Amazons have always demonized anyone outside our all-holy clan, isn’t that true? Just as today, Tristaine’s old guard demonizes the City.” Theryn lifted her hands again. “We’re not waging war with ancient barbarians anymore, adanin! Citizens are not monsters or enemies! We’re dealing with an educated, advanced people who can offer Tristaine endless bounty. Technologies undreamed of in our—”
“The City imprisons its rebels, Theryn.” Jess’s voice was dangerously mild. “It outlaws free expression. It restricts travel, marriage, reproduction. Citizens are arrested for owning the wrong books, for violating midnight curfew—”
“Jesstin,” Theryn snapped. “Tristaine would hardly be subject to cur—”
“Their Government executes hundreds of political prisoners every year.” Jess stepped closer to Theryn. Brenna saw the set of her wide shoulders, and her internal alarm rose higher. “They fill slave camps with dissidents. They assassinated our queen’s adonai and my best friend.”
“Jesstin,” Brenna whispered. She’d seen that odd light in Jess’s eyes only once, in the Clinic, before she attacked Caster. She felt Camryn’s hand brush her leg.
“I still stink of the City’s Prison,” Jess continued, “and its Clinic. I would shed my blood, and that of every warrior left to us, to keep Tristaine free of that stench. And at our lady’s bidding, this council will raze our village to the ground, Theryn, before letting Caster set one foot on Amazon land.”
“Enough, sisters. I’ve reached my decision.” Shann waited until Theryn and Jess returned to the risers and sat down.
“There will be no truce with the City. We will defend Tristaine against Caster’s attack, whether it comes in one week or three. Then, before we rejoin our clan, we’ll burn the village, to keep its spiritual legacy intact.” Shann spoke with quiet strength.
She smiled at the silent circle of Amazons. “Our council is closed, adanin. Sleep well.”
*
Brenna stared at the pitched ceiling of the dark lodge and played with Jess’s fingers. Her head rested on her muscular arm. She found batting Jess’s fingers around helped her think. She knew Jess was awake, because her breathing hadn’t deepened yet to the slow rhythm that usually lulled Brenna as well.
But sleep was far from her mind at the moment. She was filled with an energy that hummed with anxiety and something else as well—remnants of the muted exaltation first inspired by Shann’s address to the village. It would be a while before Brenna recognized this feeling as a sense of belonging.
“Hey,” she whispered.
“Yes’m.”
“Why did both you and Shann say we’d burn Tristaine down before letting Caster have it? I thought we’re all doomed to die horribly in a big flood.”
Jess yawned. “Not everyone needs to know about that dynamite, lass.”
“Ah.” Brenna played with Jess’s fingers some more. “Camryn’s really young, Jesstin.”
“She’s seventeen.” Jess stretched her stiff back, following Brenna’s thinking without effort. “Older than I was when Dyan named me her second.”
“Yeah? Dyan saw your potential way back when you were a stoned toddler?”
The moonlight filling the small cabin glinted off Jess’s teeth when she smiled. “If I named Hakan or Vicar my second, it would be like choosing myself, Bren. Cam has the grit to make a great warrior, but she’s of a different weave than us. Not as strong as Vic, but faster. She’s smarter than any warrior I’ve known, save Dyan. And her courage…the kid’s got the heart of a damn lion.”
“She does. You’re right.” Brenna smiled too, remembering the first time she ever saw Camryn and Kyla in the City. They stood behind a barred window in the Prison, defiantly hailing Jess with a shimmying dance, risking blows from the guards if they were caught. “You look after her, Jesstin, if it comes to a fight.”
“When it comes. I will, lass.” Jess’s fingers drifted lazily up and down Brenna’s arm. “And how much of a fight would you give me, querida, if I ordered you to sit out Caster’s attack?”
“Sit out?”
“Stay in the main lodge with Shann and Kyla and the council instead of fighting.”
“You won’t order me to do that.” Brenna yawned too. She was finally getting sleepy.
“I could,” Jess countered. “I’ve both the clout to do it and the reason.”
“You might have clout, but no good reason,” Brenna snorted, “not unless everything you and everyone else around here ever said about Tristaine is a flat-out lie.”
Jess was silent long enough that Brenna lifted her head and looked down at her. “You still insist on seeing me as fragile, don’t you? Is it because I froze on the ridge?”
“No. That was a simple phobia, Bren, and you’re working on that.You’re able enough in drills, adanin, but you’ve not trained long in the Amazon way of fighting. And Shann’s going to need your help with the wounded—”
“Whoa.” Brenna kicked off the heavy furs covering them and in one lithe movement, swung her leg over Jess’s waist and straddled her. She let her weight drop abruptly. Jess whoofed.
“I plan to help Shann with our injured after the battle. But when Caster attacks, Jess, I’m going to fight as well as I can. I’ll follow your orders to the letter, and I’ll be fine, because I’m a lot stronger than you think.”
Brenna clasped Jess’s wrists and lunged forward, pinning them to the quilt on either side of her head. “Which I will prove to you now.”
“Fierce Artemis,” Jess entreated the ceiling, “look down on yer poor sufferin’ servant, in this her time of true tree-vai—”
“Funny, warrior.” Brenna dropped full-length on the tall body beneath her to make Jess whoof again. She sought Jess’s mouth and drew her into an intense, sucking kiss.
The kiss went on for quite some time.
Jess’s bare left foot rose off the bed, hovered for a moment, then dropped back with a thud.
“Sheesh!” Jess gasped, when Brenna finally let her breathe. Brenna knew Jess could have flipped her easily to the floor, and she found it interesting that she chose not to. From her grin, it seemed Jess thought it was interesting too.
“All right, I’ll explain,” Brenna said. “You’re going to let me fight with the rest of your warriors, Jesstin, because Caster is my enemy as much as anyone’s. And also becau
se Amazons are allowed to make their own choices.”
Jess scowled.
“So. You’ll let me watch your back in battle.” Brenna still had Jess’s wrists pinned on either side of her head. “Just like you’re going to let me love you tonight. Because I need it and so do you. Keep your hands there. Please,” she added.
Brenna lowered herself again and touched her lips to Jess’s taut throat. She released her lover’s wrists and let her hands roam hungrily down the lean body. Her palms found Jess’s firm breasts beneath her tunic.
“You have to start letting me be a part of this clan, Jess, if I’m ever going to be.” Brenna’s low voice matched the rhythmic kneading of her fingers. “I’m only taking on the risk faced by any Amazon who’s capable of fighting, right?”
Jess seemed uninterested in answering, much less debating. Her long body was beginning to move beneath Brenna’s hands, arching to answer her touch. Her breathing deepened.
“Brenna,” she whispered, “I can’t lose you.”
“Hush, Jesstin. Let me love you.”
And Brenna did, for the first time, in that most intimate of ways women cherish each other. She had often been the sated recipient of the warm caress of Jess’s tongue and lips, but her lover had never before allowed her to reciprocate.
Outside their lodge, Selene’s moon bathed the silent valley in blue light, and the cold waters of Ziwa lapped gently against the dam. In Tristaine’s private cabins, women made love with the same blend of intensity and tenderness that swept Brenna and Jesstin.
Brenna lay on her side, curled against Jess, who was starting to breathe evenly again. She stroked one of her arms lightly with a feather-soft brush of her fingers.
“Hoo,” Jess whispered.
Brenna grinned.
“Th-thanks,” Jess added.
“Thank you.” Brenna lifted Jess’s hand to her lips and kissed it. “Go to sleep, Jesstin. It’s been a rough day. Tomorrow’s got to be better.”
*
Brenna knelt on the walkway formed by the top of the dam and focused on Jess’s form below. Her task didn’t call for much strength, as the lines the climbers used were separately anchored by ground ties.
Vigilance was required, however, to keep the ropes from snarling, and Brenna would rather hurtle headfirst off the dam herself than fail another phobia test, as self-imposed as it might be.
Her gaze didn’t waver, not even when sweat beaded on her forehead despite the brisk morning air. She knew Jess was in no immediate peril, and neither were the four other Amazons working with her, all supported by rope harnesses. Brenna was doing fairly well convincing her mind to disregard the drop looming before her, but her stomach was fixated on it.
“Take up your slack, Brenna,” Vicar reminded her. “She’s steady. Just sing out if she gets snagged.”
“Oh, I’ll sing,” Brenna muttered. She divided her attention between Jess and DeLorea, who was supervising the placement of the dynamite. Working with explosives was never routine, even for modern-day Amazons, but Tristaine’s trust in their diminutive chief tradeswoman was well founded.
Camryn, Hakan, and Elodia had helped Jess secure the platform to the dam’s main support post and now waited for DeLorea to finish wiring the detonator to the wrapped bundle.
Cam shaded her eyes and called up to the women waiting on the walkway. “Looks like Fugiera and Venore are ready below, Vicar!”
“Aye, youngster, I see.”
Brenna threw a glance at the two Amazons assigned to secure sticks of dynamite to the rock shelf above the opening to the silver mine far below. One small figure was waving some signal, which Vicar returned.
Jess tossed her hair out of her eyes to look up at Brenna and sent her an encouraging wink. She smiled back, carefully playing out line as Jess shifted to the far side of the platform.
The waves of vertigo that had plagued Brenna when she first knelt on the walkway had largely subsided, but she’d feel better when the five dangling women were safely topside again.
Besides her and Vicar, four Amazons stood on the narrow ribbon that comprised the top of the dam, anchoring the climbers. Brenna had met them all at least once, but Amazon names were beginning to blur in her mind. They were Jess’s warriors, her adanin, and those titles would serve for now.
“We’re set!” DeLorea called as she snugged the canvas wrap gently around the explosives. “The leads are fixed. Shann should consider the remote armed as of now.”
“She does,” Vicar answered matter-of-factly. “Let’s bring ‘em up!”
Vicar checked the lines of the five climbers as their anchors took up slack, then patted Brenna gruffly on the shoulder in passing. Apparently her efforts to battle her demons hadn’t gone unnoticed.
But Brenna barely registered Vicar’s touch. The cold air on her face faded, and the rich trilling of birdsong that had formed a constant backdrop to the pleasant morning suddenly dwindled.
“You’re about to snarl Elodia, Hakan. Space yourself,” Vicar called.
“Aye, space yourself.” Jess grinned at the warrior who climbed beside her. “Move yer buttocks, Hakan!”
“Bite my macha black butt, Jessica,” Hakan said, panting.
Camryn chortled at both of them, but Brenna heard little of it.
J’heika, rise.
Jess peered upward, winding excess line around one forearm. Brenna was looking beyond the dam toward the village. Jess whistled softly to gain her attention, but Brenna’s intense gaze held on Tristaine.
The sound alerted Vicar, who turned back to Brenna, eyebrows arched. “Brenna? What’s up?”
Brenna stood up. “Take Jess’s line, Vicar.”
Vicar moved at once, lifting the coils of rope from Brenna’s extended arm.
The other Amazons anchoring the lines exchanged glances, clearly surprised to see Vicar obey anyone other than Shann or Jess without question. Brenna stood with her hands at her sides, balanced on the narrow walkway. “Caster’s here.”
“Vic?” Jess called.
“Just keep climbing, Jesstin!” Vicar took up the slack in Jess’s line.
Hissing tension in the men’s voices, small branches snapping in the wake of their swift advance. Vehicles were useless past the foothills, so the last league up the mountain was covered on foot. The tall gates of the Amazon village were in sight.
Brenna watched Jess clamber over the railing of the catwalk. “Tristaine is under attack, Jess. Right now.”
“What?”
“Trust me, Jesstin.”
Jess looked into Brenna’s oddly serene eyes and then whirled, looking for her second. “Camryn!”
“Here!” Cam answered at once, shaking off the rope halter.
“Take Grady and Briggs and meet Venore and Fugiera at the trail to the mine. Approach the village from the west and expect attack.”
Cam’s eyes widened; then she moved quickly down the walkway toward the descending path without asking questions. The rest of the warriors gathered closer, watching Jess.
“Vicar, Hakan,” she glanced at each in turn, “take two warriors each and approach from the north and east.” Jess’s hand wrapped around Brenna’s arm. “Elodia, DeLorea, you’re with us. The top priority is protecting Shann.”
“Right, Jess.” Hakan nodded at two of the warriors. “We’ll listen for your signal.”
They were moving fast when they first heard enemy fire.
*
Reaching Shann was never an option.
She refused to stay hidden. Tristaine had virtually no warning of the attack, but Shann managed to launch a swift reactive defense. At least until the canisters of gas exploded in the village square.
The vision that riveted Brenna had vanished. She remembered what she saw, though, and she still felt the certainty behind her words. Figuring out the rest would have to wait. She focused on gripping Jess’s hand and racing down a mountain path that had terrified her to walk only the day before.
One moment Brenna could
breathe and the next there was no air, just a cloying mist coating her face; then her throat caught fire. She coughed spasmodically and stumbled.
Jess staggered when the gas hit her lungs but kept her grasp on Brenna’s hand, and they kept running. Behind them, Elodia clenched DeLorea’s sleeve and hauled her bodily along, both of them gasping and coughing.
Rapid volleys of gunfire splintered the air. Brenna heard cries of shock and men’s voices shouting commands. Jess flattened her against a broad pine, then looked around it. She sent a piercing whistle through two fingers, loud enough to make Brenna flinch.
“Stay beside me!” Jess ordered, her voice ragged from the fumes. She gestured to Elodia, who nodded. She pulled a retching DeLorea toward a nearby bank of trees.
Another burst of gunfire pressed them back against the pine. When it stopped, Jess squeezed Brenna’s hand, and they ran for Tristaine’s southern gates.
Clouds of the noxious gas were billowing through the village square. Through streaming eyes, Brenna saw green-clad soldiers wearing heavy masks that gave them a malignant and insectile appearance. They shoved staggering Amazons toward the stadium. Other women—unconscious—were being dragged along the ground.
Brenna’s throat constricted with a rage she had never known, and when Jess bolted for the square, she matched her pace. When the heaviest concentration of the gas hit them, the scene grew surreal in her blurring vision, grainy and shadowed.
She saw Jess duck under a swinging rifle, then dropkick one soldier where he stood. As another spate of bullets tore into the lower branches of nearby trees, Brenna realized that the soldiers were firing into the air. The world grayed out, and she lunged toward Jess, groping for her as her senses faded.
*
There were things Brenna hated more than throwing up, and as soon as she could stop doing it, she would try to remember them.
She felt Jess’s arms around her and she sat up, snarling her hands in the soft fabric of Jess’s vest.
“Easy.” Jess’s voice was reduced to a croak. “Water’s coming, Bren.”
Battle for Tristaine Page 12