The young women were waiting, laughing and talking and jeering as though they had been planning their own strategy. As soon as the ball was snapped, several of them picked up dirt and threw it into their opponents’ faces.
Once again, Wash and Jake went to the ground. Josh had centered the ball but dodged the dirt that came at him. A large maiden started for him, but Josh ducked under her arms, striking her in the stomach with his shoulder. He heard, with satisfaction, the whoosh as she fell to the ground.
As soon as he got the ball, Dave started to his right. Several warriors were running to cut him off, but he got behind Reb and Gaelan, who ran with determination in front of him. “Cut ’em down, guys,” he yelled.
The first tackler was Ettore. She attempted to strike Reb across the eye. He simply launched himself in the air and caught her across the knees. She fell to the ground with a thump, as if she had been cut down with a scythe. She did not get up at once.
Another tackler came toward Gaelan. He yelled loudly and struck her right in the middle, propelling her backward.
Dave saw at a glance that only Princess Merle stood in his way. The light of battle was in her eyes. She ran straight at him, her hands outstretched—-to catch him by the head, it seemed. Dave did not hesitate a moment. He was strongly built and outweighed her by at least thirty pounds. She tried gamely, but she might as well have been trying to stop a rampaging buffalo. He charged, she flew backward, and he leaped over her.
When he reached the goal line, he turned back and watched as she rolled over. Her face was covered with dirt, and some of it had gotten into her mouth. She spit it out and got to her feet unsteadily.
“That was pretty good for a girl,” Dave said casually.
Fury came over Princess Merle, and she glanced around to see that some in the crowd were hiding smiles. “We’ll try that again,” she said angrily.
“Sure, it’s your turn. Here’s the ball.” Dave walked back to where the men were rejoicing. The light of battle was in Gaelan’s eyes now, and he said, “That did me more good than anything I’ve ever done. Let me take a crack at ’em this time.”
Rolf said, “I’m not sure about this. It doesn’t seem right, playing this way. I thought this was supposed to be a fun game.”
“It is,” Dave said. “It’s the warrior maids who want to play rough, but I don’t think they’ll last long at it.”
The maids tried hard, but they were not practiced and knew no techniques. At least three of the men— Josh, Reb, and Dave—had played varsity football. They ran roughshod over their opponents, and soon the game became a runaway.
On the other hand, the whole thing was a mistake, which Jake saw more quickly than anyone else. “Hey,” he said in one of their huddles, “I like to see those babes get it, but it’s not going to be any fun when they get their licks back on us—and they will, you know.”
He was right about that. After the game was over, the sullen women retreated to their houses, but from that day forth they made life totally miserable for the young men.
A quarrel broke out between Princess Merle and Rolf. She was so angry at everything male that she shoved him out of her way, and Chava said, “What’s the matter with you, Merle? That’s no way to treat your brother.”
Merle turned and without thinking cried, “Oh, be still!” And then her eyes flew wide, for she had always spoken respectfully to her father. She remembered that he had always been good to her, and now she recognized the hurt in his eyes.
Quickly she looked to her mother, Queen Faya, who was staring at her with a strange expression. “Why do you treat your brother and your father like this? Is it because you were beaten in that silly game?”
“No, that has nothing to do with it!” Merle said, but she made no one believe it. She whirled and walked out of the house. If ever Princess Merle was close to tears, this was the time. She was angry with herself and angry with everyone else.
Things went badly for Josh too. He was beaten twice in the next three days by Ettore, and there was nothing Sarah could do to stop it. She wanted to tell him that it had been foolish to humiliate the women, but it was too late to say anything about that now.
“We’ll just have to wait until they get over it,” she whispered to him after his second beating.
“They’ll never get over it,” he said bitterly. Secretly Sarah thought he might be right, but there was nothing more to say.
Later that evening there was a small meeting of the women, including Marden and four others, who served as the queen’s council. They stood before Faya, who listened as they brought their reports.
It was an open meeting, and everyone in the village was welcome to come. The men, of course, had to keep in the background. The Sleepers, by common consent, came together. Josh, Reb, Dave, Jake, and Wash felt secure being there, and right across from them Sarah and Abbey stood listening to what went on.
Most of the business was run-of-the-mill, but then a shrill voice arose. The Sleepers turned to see Mita, the medicine woman, come out of the crowd of listeners, shaking her charms. She spoke for a long time, and Reb said, “I reckon she’s about ready to turn her wolf loose.”
“Yeah,” Jake said, “and I think I know who she’s aiming that wolf at. The old woman’s been lookin’ at us, and if I ever saw an evil eye, she’s got it.”
Jake was not mistaken, for now the discussion turned on Mita’s prophecy.
She moved in front of the Seven Sleepers, lifting her arms and her clawlike hands. “These are bad people. Maug does not like them. They will bring bad luck on the village.” She continued her tirade for some time, then went back to stand before the queen. “Maug demands a sacrifice. Kill them and get rid of the danger. You know Maug is strong.”
“We have kept captives before,” Queen Faya said slowly. Her eyes went over to study the Seven Sleepers, and she shook her head. “They are valuable property.”
Mita’s voice rose into a scream of rage. “Kill them!” she said. “Some of our people will die if we do not offer a sacrifice to Maug. You will see! You will see!”
Apparently her screams almost convinced Queen Faya. She glanced at her husband, who shook his head slightly.
Nobody seemed to see that except Sarah and Dave. Their eyes met, and they nodded.
After the meeting was over, Faya was helped back to her house by some of her attendants. When she was inside and on her couch, she motioned for Dave and the other servants to leave.
Then she turned to Chava. “You heard what Mita said?”
“Yes, I heard.”
“It could be true. Perhaps Maug is angry.”
“Mita is always saying that Maug is angry. If we killed somebody as a sacrifice every time she opened her mouth, we’d have nobody left in the village.”
Doubt crossed Queen Faya’s features. She was in severe pain with her leg tonight, and quickly Chava prepared a potion that would give her some ease. She drank it quickly and lay back. “Read to me some of your poems,” she said quietly.
Chava picked up the awkward-looking book that he had made out of thin bark and written on with homemade ink. He began to read, and he saw his wife’s eyes slowly closing. When she was almost asleep, he said, “Do not let Mita and the others cause you to be unjust.”
“No, Chava,” she said. She opened her eyes with an effort, smiled at him, and then dropped off.
Chava took the book and went outside, where he found Dave and Abbey speaking quietly together. They looked up as he approached, and he said with a worried air, “I’m afraid Mita’s up to mischief.”
“Isn’t she always?” Dave asked bitterly. “The old witch!”
“You speak more truly than you know,” Chava said. “She is, indeed, in the power of darkness. Can’t you feel the evil? It seeps out of her and infects everyone she touches.” He looked at the pair. “She has a special hatred for you. I think it is your master, Goél, that she hates.”
“We find the Dark Lord has agents everywhere we go,” Abb
ey said quietly. “Do you think the queen will listen to her?”
“Not unless something terrible happens.”
“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t,” Dave said fervently. “I didn’t like the look in that old witch’s eyes!”
11
Tigers
Gaelan went about his work after the football game, but there was hope in him that had not been there before. The fame of the warrior maids had spread throughout his world, so that they had seemed invincible. Many of his people had been kidnapped into slavery by the women of Fedor. However, since he had seen their finest warriors tumbled in the dust, his heart sang within him. And now as he moved along the row he was hoeing, he said to himself, They aren’t invincible. This won’t last forever. Sooner or later I’ll be free!
After he had finished hoeing the beans, he shouldered his hoe and ambled down to the laundry area where some men had gathered to wash clothes again. He saw Rolf and joined him. “How about another football game, Rolf?” he whispered, nudging him in the ribs.
Rolf grinned at him unexpectedly.
Gaelan knew Rolf had been troubled by the violence of the game. He was the mildest of young men. But seemingly, in the rough and tumble, Rolf had found a fiery spirit of competition within himself that shocked him.
“Well, I expect we could play among ourselves, but you took plenty of punishment from my sister over the last game, didn’t you?”
“It was worth it.” Gaelan grinned back. “But maybe you’re right,” he added quietly. “Someday we may be able to do things a little better.”
“A little better?” Rolf said, a puzzled light in his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”
“Haven’t you noticed, Rolf, that everything is all wrong here? I mean, women aren’t really more able than men.”
“Why, of course they are! The maidens are the warriors.”
“Only because that’s the custom. Did you see how easily you put some of them on their backs? They didn’t look like warrior maids then, did they?”
“Well, maybe not, but hunting is different from playing a game.”
“Not really,” Gaelan said easily.
Gaelan had been talking with Dave and Sarah, and the three of them agreed that Rolf could, perhaps, be the key to their freedom. If they proved to him that men were qualified to soldier and rule, the battle would be half won.
Rolf said slowly, “It’s always been like this. I don’t think it can be any different. Look at my father—he couldn’t rule the way that my mother has. He’s just not the right type.”
“Maybe not. Some men aren’t. But you are.”
“Me?” Rolf stared at him, genuinely shocked. “Why, I couldn’t rule the country!”
“Only because you don’t think you can. Look, Rolf, you can run faster, lift more weight, and with a little training, with your coordination, you could shoot straighter than anyone. Have you ever done any sword fighting?”
“Well, as a matter of fact, I have fenced with Merle a little bit.”
“I bet you could’ve beaten her too.” At the look that crossed Rolf’s face, Gaelan grinned. “I thought so. You didn’t do it because she was your sister and she was a woman, but if you’d gone all out you could’ve bested her, couldn’t you?”
The idea seemed to be novel. He let Rolf think about it awhile.
“Perhaps I could,” he said slowly, “but I wouldn’t do that to my sister.”
“You might be doing her a favor. From what I hear, anytime the Londo tribe attacks, you’re liable to get wiped out. Isn’t that true?”
Gaelan had hit upon a touchy subject, for Ulla, chief of the Londos, had sworn to obliterate the women of Fedor. He had fierce warriors, and in several pitched battles the warrior maids had barely managed to stave off defeat. They had lost large numbers of their best warriors, and now the threat of an attack from the Londos hung over the entire village, although it was not publicly spoken of.
Rolf said nothing, but Gaelan saw that his mind was working rapidly. He was, Gaelan knew, a quick-thinking young man, with a razor-sharp mind, although he had never fully used it.
Gaelan stood there with him on the riverbank as he stirred clothes, idly talking about nothing but dropping ideas into Rolf’s mind. Finally, when he thought it was wise, he said, “We’ll talk about this later.”
“All right, Gaelan.”
Gaelan made his way back to the queen’s home, where he put his hoe into the shed, then walked toward the house.
When he entered, he was met by Princess Merle. He had knocked her flat on her back once during the football game, and he knew she had never forgiven him for it.
Her eyes flashed now as she said, “Where have you been? You were supposed to be here to help Father.”
“I was hoeing beans, and then I went down to the river and talked with your brother.”
“You’ve got more to do than trade useless stories with Rolf.”
“I don’t know that they were useless. Your brother is a pretty sharp young fellow.” He grinned widely. “And a pretty good ball player too.”
Princess Merle’s face flushed at the mention of the game. She flared up. “Don’t you stand there laughing at me!”
“I wasn’t laughing,” Gaelan protested, drawing his face into a frown. He suspected this made him look ridiculous, and he realized he couldn’t hold it. He laughed suddenly, saying, “Well, I couldn’t help it. You were funny rolling around in the dirt. But then, I rolled some myself.”
At the reference to being flattened, Merle’s temper erupted. Her hand flashed out.
She did not strike Gaelan’s face, however, for he had reflexes faster than hers. He grabbed her wrist. She struggled to free herself, but he held her effortlessly. She slapped at him with her other hand, but then this was pinioned too. She stood there struggling, her face growing redder, and he smiled across at her, holding her easily as he would a child.
“Let me go! I’ll kill you!” she said.
“I don’t doubt that.”
“What’s this?” Queen Faya stumped in through the door, holding onto her crutch. She took in the scene and said, “What’s this man doing?”
“He insulted me, Queen Mother.”
Gaelan released the princess’s wrist. “I merely kept her from striking me, Your Majesty.”
“Why would she want to strike you?”
“That I can’t say.”
“He’s impudent, that’s why. He needs a thrashing, and I’m going to give it to him.”
“Are you?” Queen Faya asked, raising her eyebrows. She herself did not believe that beating servants and slaves accomplished a great deal. “I don’t think you’ll find that satisfactory.”
But Merle’s blood was up. “Come along,” she said. “You’re going to get a caning.”
Gaelan exchanged a steady glance with the queen and for some reason smiled. “Excuse me, Your Majesty, your daughter has…business with me.”
Gaelan’s manner had amused Queen Faya, but she said no more. She hobbled to a chair and sat down, staring out a window. Soon she heard the sound of blows being administered in another room.
When Merle returned, she was flushed and unhappy-looking.
“Well, did that make you feel better, Daughter?”
“Yes!”
“I doubt that. Come and sit down by me. We need to talk.”
Reluctantly Princess Merle sat down by her mother. Actually she had a great affection for both her parents; but she was about to receive a lecture, and she pulled her lips together in a thin line, determined not to hear anything.
“You are a very strong-willed young woman, which is as it should be,” Queen Faya said gently. There was a faraway look in her eye, and she smiled. “I was exactly like you when I was seventeen years old. Not as pretty as you, though.”
“Yes, you were,” Merle insisted loyally.
“No, I was not. Many men wanted me for their mate, but it was only because I was the queen. Only your father loved me for what I
was besides being queen.”
“How did you know that? You never told me how you and he met.”
“He was just a commoner, and at the time I was a princess as you are now. He was the smartest of all the young men, though not the best-looking. He never spoke to me, but I felt his eyes on me,” Faya said quietly, remembering old days. “There were others who were larger and stronger, but none had the look in their eyes that your father had.”
“So how did you come to choose him?”
“I found a poem that he had written. He didn’t know that I’d found it. It was a wonderful poem. I still have it.”
“Could I see it?”
“No, it was a very private love poem that he wrote for me—the only one I ever got,” Faya said. She looked at her daughter. “I don’t suppose you’ve gotten any love poems?”
“No, I—I think they’re silly.”
“Then you’ve missed an education.” The queen looked sad and for a time remained silent. “I think most of our young warrior maids miss something fine and wonderful. Your father is a quiet man, and he doesn’t say much, but for years I have not made a decision without his counsel. Does that surprise you?”
“N-no,” Merle said slowly. “I’ve always known you two were closer than any couple in the tribe, but I didn’t know why.”
Queen Faya took her daughter’s hand and held it. “It’s because he has love and gentleness. Our women have little of that. They are trained to be fierce warriors; and I think when a woman becomes a warrior, she loses something.”
“But it’s what I’ve always wanted to be.”
“It’s what I’ve taught you to want—what the others have urged upon you. But inside there is a beautiful woman who wants to be loved and to be told that she’s pretty and to be admired.”
Amazed, Merle could not speak. As her mother went on, suddenly, to her surprise and shock and horror, she felt tears rising to her eyes. Her mother was saying the things that had lain deep in Merle’s own heart for years, thoughts she’d felt disloyal to speak. She turned her head away, but her mother saw that she was weeping.
Attack of the Amazons Page 9