Battle for Tristaine

by Cate Culpepper

  Kyla smiled, but it hurt Brenna’s heart to see the effort it took. “I’m broken up inside. But I’m alive. And I’m real glad we got almost everyone out.” Her eyes closed for a moment. “So many faces are gone, Shann.”

  “Yes…” Shann rested her lips on Kyla’s pale forehead for a moment. “We have mourning to do. And a new Tristaine to build come spring.”

  “What’s next for us, lady?” Jess stared up at the dazzling canopy of stars overhead. “Our clan has been diminished, and there’ll be no more new Amazons from the City. They wouldn’t know how to find us.”

  Shann glanced at Brenna and smiled before she answered. “Well, if our line is meant to die out at last, Jess, then it will. I have a feeling Gaia has other plans for us.”

  “Yeah?” Kyla looked almost hopeful. “You do?”

  “I do. For one thing,” Shann said, “I have a feeling Gaia might want us to finally learn the lesson She set before all Amazons a thousand years ago. Not a single generation of Tristaine has learned it, under any queen. Including me, it seems, at least not yet.”

  “I’m sorry?” Brenna asked. “What lesson was that?”

  “‘Amazons must be unified, if the Clan is to survive,’” Shann recited to them. “That’s one of the challenges our Seven Adanin left us, Blades. Sounds simple enough, doesn’t it?”

  “Aye, but another challenge was, ‘All women must live free,’” Jess responded from her relaxed position against Brenna. “Remember what Dyan always said, Shann. It’s never simple for a clan to live with both unity and freedom.”

  “You still quote Dyan at Shann all the time, Jess.” Kyla’s smile wasn’t as forced this time. “Except when it suits you. Dyan also yelled at you to take less risks when you fight.”

  Jess winked at her, but her eyes on Shann were grave. “Lady, Theryn’s betrayal wasn’t your fault. You worked yourself to death in high council last spring trying to bring her faction around.”

  “I’m not blaming myself, Jesstin.” Shann patted Jess’s shoulder. “My own particular challenge has always been Jocelyn’s favorite, ‘Don’t push the river,’ so that’s what I intend to practice. Now, let’s listen to the dirge for a while. They’re singing for Camryn and the other sisters we’ve lost.”

  They fell silent, and the low, musical chant of the larger circle reached them. Brenna felt her heart fill with a deep, pure sadness. She looked at the Amazons seated around the distant storyfire and watched as Dana lowered her head.

  Dana’s eyes kept filling with tears, which mystified her, because she rarely cried. Given her choice, she would rather not bawl in front of dozens of Amazon warriors.

  Some of the faces around her wore stony expressions as they sang. Some mourned only with their chant, while others wept openly. They all grieved for their lost village, Dana knew, and for the Amazon warriors who had died. She just didn’t understand why she cried, too. She didn’t even know these people, so why was her throat so tight with grief?

  The dirge eventually wound down. The storyfire in the center of the circle finally burned down to glowing coals. Dana got up to limp off to her blankets, and she glanced toward Shann and the others.

  Jesstin dozed, her head pillowed on Brenna’s lap. Kyla had fallen asleep, leaning against her queen. Shann’s fingers drifted through the girl’s auburn tresses. She smiled at Dana, who waved vaguely, then lay down and pulled a blanket over her face.

  “Um, lady? A question,” Brenna asked, her voice low so as not to disturb Jess or Kyla. “Do you know who they are? These voices I keep hearing? They’re the Grandmothers? I guess that’s three questions.”

  “Yes, I believe you’re hearing Amazon voices.” Shann sounded pleased by Brenna’s question. “I’ve never heard them in the way you do, so I can’t say who any of them are. But they may be our Seven Adanin, as well as other sisters from past generations of our clan.”

  “Shann.” Brenna cleared her throat. “Did Dyan speak with a thick brogue?”

  “Thick as maple syrup.” Shann looked surprised. “Why, Blades?”

  “Because I think I heard her on the dam,” Brenna said. She didn’t know if this would be painful news or simply absurd.

  But after a moment of silence, Shann sounded excited. “That’s wonderful, Bren, honestly! Yes, it might have been our Dyan. What did this voice say?”

  “Duck, ye young dolt,” Jess burred softly, in what sounded like a spot-on imitation of the voice on the dam, and both Shann and Brenna stifled laughter.

  “Ask Shann about that name, Brenna,” Kyla said sleepily.

  “Oh, good, thanks, Ky,” Brenna said. “Shann, who is Jaheeka?”

  A line appeared between Shann’s brows. “What did you say?”

  “Ja-heeka? Was there such a person? I’ve heard a voice calling her for days now.”

  “So did Camryn,” Kyla added. Her shadowed brown eyes were focused on the flames of the fire. “Camryn said that name right before she died.”

  “Are you sure, Ky?” Shann’s voice was quiet, but something in her tone made Kyla look at her.

  “Are you all right?” Brenna asked. In the flame’s low light, Shann had grown pale.

  Alarmed, Jess sat up, as did Kyla. “Shann?”

  “You’re sure that Camryn said the word ‘j’heika,’ before she died?”

  Kyla nodded in confirmation. “Yes, lady. She said it to Brenna when she asked her for the Queen’s Blessing.”

  “I hear that name every time I hear the Grandmothers.” Brenna realized her throat was dry. Shann’s expression was an extraordinary mixture of surprise and consternation, and much else that Brenna wasn’t sure she could interpret. “Shann, who is J’heika?” Concern colored her question this time.

  “Brenna, sisters, everything’s all right.” Shann let out a long breath. Brenna found her shoulders lowering as Shann relaxed. “I’m sorry. I was just a bit surprised. Brenna, there’s something you might need to know.”

  “Are you sure?” Brenna swallowed. “Judging by your look, maybe ignorance would be better.”

  “Ignorance is never better,” Shann corrected, and pressed Brenna’s hand. “J’heika isn’t a proper name, Blades. It’s an honorific, a title.”

  They didn’t sleep for a very long time.

  Nine Months Later

  “Amazon Lake.”

  The reverence in Lee Ann’s tone would be understandable, Karen figured, even if this beautiful lake had no spiritual legends behind it. They had never seen anything as flat-out gorgeous as all this mountain scenery in their lives.

  Karen rested her foot on a stump and gazed out over the lake, a wide expanse of twinkling blue, dotted here and there with small, inviting, islands—the tops of hills, she realized, when this had been a valley. Only last fall. Only last fall, there might have been a village here, some kind of women’s community. She shivered and turned away.

  Attuned as always to her shifts in mood, Lee Ann squinted up at her. “What?”

  “It’s a beautiful graveyard.”

  “Well, yeah.” Lee Ann looked out over the lake again. “Women did die here, if they couldn’t get clear of the avalanche in time. Think of it, Karen, those women were Amazons, if this was really Tristaine. This lake is a shrine, honey.”

  “Yeah, well, trespassing here is two years in Prison, honey.” Karen’s teasing was kind. She knew how much this illicit trek meant to Lee Ann, who had dreamed of Amazons since she was a girl. “The place looks completely deserted, so I’m fine with camping here tonight. But we shouldn’t stand out here in the open, okay? Just because there’s no Military patrol around now doesn’t mean there won’t be.”

  “I don’t think anyone’s been through here in weeks.” Lee Ann accepted Karen’s hand up and slapped the dust from her jeans. Karen helped her with that, too, ending with a lecherous pinch that made them both grin.

  Then Lee Ann stepped away and scanned the ground curiously. “Look, love. There’s only one path in here, and the only footprints I can see were mad
e by the three of us. It hasn’t rained that much this month. There should be more tracks, shouldn’t there?”

  “Well, maybe the paper was as bullshit inaccurate as ever, and patrols never come here.” Karen scanned the empty blue sky overhead for copters, nonetheless. “I still don’t want us to take any chances. Where the heck did Sly go?”

  Lee Ann nodded toward the largest hill. “She took off up that way. Want to see what she found?”

  “Sure.” Karen drew her close for a quick kiss before taking her hand.

  It was a pleasant day for a romantic stroll. The warmth of summer had reached high enough into the mountains that shedding clothing seemed feasible. “Any chance Sly might lay her sleeping bag a bit farther away tonight?”

  “I will make that request.” Lee Ann smiled.

  Karen liked Sly well enough, but if she was going to travel with them, they were going to have to put their foot down about a few things. Her smoking, for instance.

  Karen knew what Lee Ann’s friend had been through in the Prison, and no one could begrudge her a few vices. But it wasn’t just the stink of the smoke. Sly was starting on a real hacker’s cough, and she was barely twenty. Both Karen and Lee Ann were trying to get her to cut down.

  She saw Sly up ahead, reaching up into a smallish tree that stood on a bluff looking out over the lake. The view on either side of the bluff was breathtaking, and Karen had to keep coaxing her dazzled lover on with gentle tugs of her hand.

  By the time they reached their taciturn friend, Sly had seated herself in the grass at the base of the tree. She was unwrapping a swath of red cloth.

  “Hey, what’s that?” Lee Ann crouched, her lively eyes sparkling. “Where did you find it?”

  Sly gestured vaguely up into the tree. Her rough hands slipped a worn spiral notebook out of the red cloth and held it for a moment. She looked up at them, her green eyes wary, then opened the notebook. A folded piece of paper fell out, and Karen knelt and retrieved it.

  “Is that a note, Sly? Is it from them?” Lee Ann was making an obvious effort to sound casual, but Karen’s hands were trembling as she unfolded the paper. “A map? You’re kidding. Is that a map?”

  “Yeah.” Karen held the sheet up to the fading light. “It looks pretty readable. I think. From what I know of mountain maps, which is nil.”

  “Where’s that trail go, the one that’s marked?” Lee Ann leaned over Karen’s shoulder.

  “Uh, south. Right? It goes somewhere south. That’s the best I can do.”

  “The map leads to the southern meadows.” Sly had been skimming through the spiral notebook, and her gaunt features were expressionless as she read the last two pages. “Whatever the southern meadows are,” she added.

  “It says that in there?” Lee Ann crouched beside Sly. “Who was that notebook left for, Sly. Do you know? And who left it?”

  “It’s a woman’s diary. It was left here for anybody who finds it, I guess.” Sly turned to the last page and read aloud.

  If you have searched long enough to find this journal, you can find Tristaine, wherever we rebuild Her.

  “Oh, lord.” Lee Ann sounded breathless. “Lord, Karen, the Amazons left this! We were right. Some of them did survive.”

  Read this notebook, and guard it well. Bring it with you to the southern meadows. You’ll find another map there.

  But, first, you must make a copy of this first map and leave the original here. Return it to its hiding place for other lost sisters to find.

  Follow us if you will.

  Shanendra, daughter of Elaine

  “This was brilliant,” Lee Ann said softly, accepting the worn notebook from Sly at last. “That second map the note mentions must lead us to wherever the Amazons have gone. But how did they know anyone would find this one?”

  No one answered her, but the question was forgotten as Lee Ann and Karen pored over the notebook’s first entries.

  Sly got stiffly to her feet and limped to the edge of the bluff to stare down at the lovely, placid blue of the lake. She unshouldered her heavy pack and knelt to rummage through it. “Are you two game?”

  “Oh, hell, yes.” Lee Ann’s voice held that overtly reverent note again, but Karen was so excited about the journal, she didn’t care. “Are you kidding? Of course we’re going. Sly, we didn’t even hope for something like this!”

  “There’s definitely nothing in the City we have to stay for.” Karen looked up when Sly made no reply. “The same is true for you, Sly, right?”

  “That’s right.” Sly zipped up her pack.

  “Hey, pal.” Lee Ann touched Sly’s shoulder. “You’re still coming with us, aren’t you? You know you can’t go home.”

  “Yeah, I’ll come along.” Sly fished a pack of cigarettes out of her breast pocket. “Why don’t you two set up some kind of camp down by the lake? This bluff is kind of exposed. I’ll help after a quick smoke.”

  “Sheesh, you’re right. Anyone could spot us up here.” Karen flushed, mad at herself. She closed the notebook like it was a sacred tome and secured it inside her shirt. “Don’t stay on this bluff too long, Sly, okay?”

  She waved and blew out smoke in agreement; then Karen and Lee Ann made their way quickly back down the hill.

  Alone, she gazed down at the lake once more, then around her at the timeless beauty of the surrounding mountain peaks. She took a long, satisfying pull, which helped mask her constant companions, pain and loss.

  Sammy hadn’t seen her sister’s handwriting in over a year. Funny how the sight of that slanted hand in the pages of the notebook brought Brenna’s face back to her. She’d stopped being able to picture her at all in Prison.

  She rocked slightly with her eyes closed and moved her hand across her belly in a desolate caress. She had named her daughter for Brenna. Matthew hadn’t lived to see his baby born, and Samantha knew she would never see her again. Prisoners were not allowed to parent, and the child had been taken at birth. She was told the baby died soon afterward.

  When they were young, Brenna had been all she knew of safety. Her older sister had been her shelter and protection, and now, again, she was the only family Sammy had. In the stark chill of her grief, she still yearned for the early, familiar comfort of Brenna’s voice. She had brought Sammy through a nightmarish childhood; then she brought Caster into their lives.

  It seemed she might see Brenna again. She tried to feel happiness.

  She rolled the map carefully and wrapped it in the slick red cloth. She ground her cigarette out beneath her boot heel, then went back to the tree. After reaching up and replacing the package securely in the branches, “for other lost sisters to find,” she walked down the hill to join her friends.

  Epilogue

  Article in that week’s City Gazette

  Section D, page 4, June 30:

  Natural Mountain Lake

  Formed By Avalanche

  Rumors of clandestine activity in the mountain range east of the City proved categorically false last week. Government surveillance teams have confirmed that a large lake, newly discovered high in the range, was formed by natural processes. An avalanche caused the collapse of an earthen shelf holding back a river, which drained into a valley, forming the lake. Citizens are reminded that any unauthorized travel beyond City limits is punishable by imprisonment.

  Scarred fingers reached for a pair of scissors and painstakingly clipped the article for a scrapbook.

  About the Author

  Cate Culpepper is a 2005 Golden Crown Literary Award winner in the Sci-Fi/Fantasy category. She grew up in southern New Mexico, where she served as the state lesbian for several years. She moved to the Pacifi c Northwest almost twenty years ago, where she now resides with her faithful sidekick, Kirby, Warrior Westie. Cate supervises a transitional housing program for homeless young gay adults. She proudly cites Xena: Warrior Princess as a much-loved inspiration for the strong women portrayed in her original fi ction.

  Culpepper, Battle for Tristaine