by Judith Hand
Harmonia said, “We have now heard the news of the attack on the Kaskan village from Penthesilea. We have heard her urge the People of Artemis to arm themselves in preparation for an Achean attack of unprecedented magnitude. And now we have heard from the honorable Euryclea, who takes a contrary position. Pentha, I would like to hear any rebuttal you might wish to offer.”
Many heads had nodded while Euryclea talked. Pentha must touch deep places in their hearts if she hoped to win this battle. She drew a steadying breath, then rose and moved in front of the hearth and faced the majority.
“The People of Artemis are free. We are famous for our saying, ‘A mother bear is deadly in defense of her young.’ We live here, secure within our borders because we maintain a defense second to none. At least, it has been second to none until now.” She paused and locked eyes with Euryclea. “But the Acheans are warriors born and bred. They live for battle. It is their meat and drink, the air they breathe.” She shifted her gaze to embrace the majority. “They are ruthless predators, interested only in what they can take in booty and slaves. You heard what Damonides saw. Not one person in the Kaskan village was spared. Many men and boys were burned alive.”
She paused to let that sickening image work its way into their thoughts. She turned and addressed the dais.
“Euryclea believes they will not come here for fear of us. I assure you, she is wrong. They may respect us. But they do not fear us. If they find us in any way vulnerable, they will come. We must ensure that we’re not in any way weak. Our men must make ready once more, as they have done in past emergencies, to fight. And all women of suitable age, even those who might have chosen otherwise, should be trained to the horse and bow.”
Harmonia said, “I would hear Trusis speak to this matter of the men.”
Pentha saluted and returned to her seat.
Trusis stood and with an air of delighted importance, strutted to the hearth. “What is it you wish to know?” he said to Harmonia.
Her voice touched with impatience, Harmonia said, “What do you think of this idea that we should arm the men and fit them for battle?”
“I couldn’t agree more.”
To Pentha he looked stunned and excited, like a man whose self-important mind had suddenly burst into flames of desire. If the People of Artemis were to prepare the men as warriors, Trusis’ position would inflate to perhaps match the size of his own imagined significance. The involvement of their men in battles was rare—Pentha could think of only five times in all their history that it had been necessary—and as their leader, Trusis’ name would live forever in Amazon memory.
He continued, alternately pressing his palms together and then spreading his arms dramatically as he made a point. Finally, “Our men are eager to participate in any preparations that our Warrior Queen recommends. We see the threat. We agree we must prepare to meet it.” He smiled at Pentha, and she felt sure that he thought his speech of support was endearing him to her. “I concur with her wise judgment in such matters.”
Harmonia ended his moments of glory saying, “Thank you, Truisis.” He bowed, and strode back to his seat with straight shoulders and glittering eyes.
Harmonia asked, “Would anyone else speak?”
Marpessa rose. Like her mother, she was tall and gaunt. Were the age difference not evident, they could have been twins. In a sweetly oily tone she said, “I do feel it’s important to add something. This scheme Penthesilea has suggested will take us in entirely the wrong direction. We prosper and thrive because we do not spend our resources on conquest. And this grand scheme of Pentha’s comes close to suggesting we go outside of Themiskyra to fight. Didn’t she say, ‘If the Trojans cannot expel the Acheans, it may be necessary for us to rid our shores of this foreign plague?’ Reaching outside of Themiskyra would be a great mistake.” Her tone hardened. “This is not our way. Pentha was raised outside, and it would seem that her heart is still with the outside.”
Pentha stiffened. How dare the viper accuse me of lack of loyalty to the People! She gathered herself to protest. Bremusa laid a hand on her arm.
Harmonia said, “Thank you, Marpessa.” She turned to Pentha, her brow creased and her eyes questioning. “Marpessa makes a good point. I, too, believe I heard you saying something that goes beyond just being strong in our defense.”
What could she say to open their eyes and embolden their hearts? She again took place before the hearth. Her mother’s face flashed before her, her mother telling her stories of the Amazon past. Glorious stories that had informed her childhood and created in her marrow a white-hot passion for freedom.
“Sometimes history touches a People with a moment when reaching out is essential, for honor and for life. Only one generation ago men came from Athens to Themiskyra, led by Herakles. They stole from us not only this girdle I wear today, but took away Antiope and gave her to one of their kings, Theseus. We did not ignore this wrong or turn our backs. We did not stay at home wringing our hands. Led by Hippolyta, my sister’s namesake, Amazons went to Athens and mounted a siege that returned the girdle to us. Now these same barbarians are again raiding the coast of lands that are not theirs and have come to our door. Will we turn our backs, wring our hands, fail to prepare?
She turned to Harmonia. “And true, I am convinced that we must be prepared to do more than simply defend Themiskyra.” She drew a slow breath. If she completed this argument, she risked giving Euryclea and Marpessa the weapon they needed to bring her down, because without Harmonia’s good will, Pentha’s position would become precarious in the extreme. But to remain silent … No. She must lay it all out. “The stalemate between Troy and the Acheans has gone on nine years, and during that time, the Acheans have brought death, rape, grief, and enslavement to one village and town after another. Priam has been unable to expel this rotting evil. What I said was that it may be necessary for us to rid these shores of the foreign plague. And what I mean by that, honored Queen, is that we must be able and willing to offer aid to Priam.”
She heard a nervous stirring from the assembly behind her, and Harmonia’s face darkened, her brows drew together, her lips thinned.
Pentha plunged on. “It is true that when he was young, Priam took up arms against us and sided with Bellerophon. We are not now and for a long time have not been on good terms with Troy. But I urge this council,” she gave Harmonia a long look, then turned to face the majority, “I urge the People of Artemis, to look into the future and see that if we do not act now, we may live to see our way of life destroyed, our men and boys slaughtered, and our women and girls sold into slavery.
“We are great warriors. Indeed, our security in part depends upon our reputation as fierce and uncompromising. Let me prepare us to defend Themiskyra. Let me also prepare us to give aid to Troy. Do not turn away from our greatness.”
She turned and faced the dais. “Because if I cannot make the preparations I consider essential, it is best that someone else take my place.”
A hush fell. Pentha saw shock in the faces of both Gryn and Hippolyta as she returned to her seat.
Behind her she heard Euryclea. “Honored Harmonia, I really …”
“You have already spoken,” Harmonia said, her hand raised to cut Euryclea off. “Does anyone else wish to speak?”
Pentha sat. No one rose.
“According to custom then,” Harmonia said, “we will retire for discussion for two hours. At that time, a vote will would be taken. And then I will give my decision.”
With Bremusa, Clonie, Hippolyta, and Gryn, Pentha spent the time in a corner of a nearby garden, sipping mare’s milk and talking. All agreed that since this was essentially the end of war season, and Damon had said the ships were headed west, there would be no clash with the Acheans this year. “We have the whole winter to prepare,” Breumusa observed
The clusters of friends and acquaintances in the garden spoke in muted tones that gave no clue as to how the matter was evolving. She did note that none who passed close by went out of the
ir way to catch her attention and bow, the usual treatment she received.
They returned together to the Council Chamber where the vote was taken in secret—a blue token dropped into the leather sack signifying that Pentha should be given full discretion, a white token signifying that they should prepare only to defend Themiskyra, a green token signifying that Harmonia should announce a contest to determine a new Warrior Queen.
The tokens were counted so that all could observe. Harmonia then stood. “I have no love for Priam. But logic and honor require that personal feelings be set aside. I have voted as have the overwhelming majority of you.” She turned to Pentha. “You have the support of this council and of myself to prepare the women and men of Artemis to defend Themiskyra and to give aid to Priam of Troy if he will accept it.”
The room burst into male whistles and female clapping. Euryclea and Marpessa and their friends pointedly refrained.
Later, when she and Hippolyta and Gryn reached the place where Gryn would go to her home, they stopped to embrace. “The first thing I will do,” Pentha said, “is put out spies to find out exactly where those five ships are and where they will winter.”
Gryn took her hand, gave it a firm squeeze. “There is something else even more important.”
Pentha waited.
“I assume you are serious about preparing to fight and kill the Acheans at Troy.”
“Yes.”
“Then we must know all we can about Achean fighting. You saw how differently Damon held the Achean shield when the two of you dueled. He will also know about the construction of their weapons. About their tactics. The first thing you must do is convince Damon to help us.”
31
THE SMELL OF A FIR-SCENTED WOOD FIRE REACHED Pentha well before she spotted the small wooden shed where Bias said she could find Damon. She walked resolutely, determined to convince him. His help was critical. Nothing would deter her.
This morning, when she’d reached the mountains, she found them mantled with a light snow. Her breath came out in little white puffs. Given the leaden grayness of the sky and the somber quiet in the woods, she imagined the arrival of more snow soon. She caught sight of a hind amidst the fir trees. It caught sight of her and bounded away.
The narrow, but well-worn, trail from his cabin wound sharply downhill over kettle-sized rocks and through the dense stand of firs. Generations of dropped needles lent a gentle spring to her stride.
Black smoke curled out of a clay pipe stuck through the shed’s sod roof. She tapped on the closed door. Silence. She lifted the wooden latch and took a quick look inside.
Logs burning in an iron brazier provided toasty warmth. Three shelves held blankets and food items: bread, a clay pot of what was probably olives, and some apples. Unlike his cabin, which had a packed dirt floor, someone had taken the time and effort to craft wood planks for the shed. The bearskin that covered the planks came from a beast that, standing upright, would have towered over any man.
Pentha closed the door and proceeded down the trail perhaps twenty steps to a tiny glen. Cut branches indicated that it had been hacked out by hand. There in the center lay a pool, perhaps three times the size of her bathtub. In the pool’s center, Damon stood waist deep with his back to her, steam rising around him.
She suddenly realized she would surprise or even frighten him when she spoke. She cleared her throat, then said, “Bias told me I would find you here.”
Damon spun around, splashing water in a great arc, some of which hit her leg. Exceedingly hot water!
His face broke into a smile of joy that would live with her the rest of her life. This was what his heart thought of her, undisguised by rationality or guile or worry or doubts. A smile at once deeply humbling and also frightening. She couldn’t imagine feeling so intensely happy at simply seeing someone, and all this happiness focused on her.
He quickly recovered and said, “You have discovered my one luxury.” He held a sponge in his right hand.
She said, “The water’s very hot.”
“I enjoy it most in the winter.”
In a long silence, she studied him and he studied her.
Then he said, “Take off your clothes.”
She hesitated.
“Join me.” He lifted the sponge over his head and squeezed. Water streaked down his face and dripped onto his chest. Around his neck, a green object hung on a leather thong.
She was here to ask him to do something he had said many times he did not do. Perhaps bathing with him was not—No. Perhaps it would actually be good to begin with something fun and pleasurable, to ensure an agreeable mood.
She unlaced the neck of her tunic and shucked it over her head. He watched, his face unreadable.
She stripped off boots and trousers.
The hot water felt like a lover’s embrace.
When she reached Damon, he squeezed water first on one shoulder and then the other. She stared in fascination at the object dangling from the thong. The arrowhead she had made.
She touched it.
He flinched as if she’d touched him with a hot iron and wrapped his hand over the arrowhead. Slowly, a grin lifted the corners of his mouth. “And now you know another one of my secrets.”
She covered his hand with her own. “I’m honored, Damon. I have nothing of yours to keep, but I keep thoughts of you in my heart.”
With his thumb he rubbed the faceted face, then traced the sharp edge. “It reminds me exactly of you. It’s the color of your eyes. It is exquisite. And it’s fashioned to kill.”
The heat rising inside her plus the heat of the water brought sweat to her upper lip. Moisture also beaded his face. He pulled her to him and kissed first her eyes, and then her lips. She molded her body to him and felt him, erect and hard. The fire to couple stirred in her belly. He used his tongue to part her lips and enter her mouth, and with her whole body, she wanted to melt into him.
He broke off the kiss, which she could have made last forever, and taking her hand, led her to the edge of the pool, and then out of it, heading for the shed.
“Let me bring my clothes,” she said. “They’ll be frozen if I leave them out here.” She snatched them up, then placed her hand back into his and let him lead her.
They made love. The tenderness she remembered from him was still there, but edged with iron. He wanted her. She was certain he was also angry with her. She felt a roughness, a barbed challenge even in his kisses. She refused to rise to the goading and kept her spirit soft.
Afterward he added logs to the fire. They shared goat cheese and apples. Then they made love again. And this time, his voice, his touch, his entry into her body, his caresses after—from no man had she ever felt such passion to please her.
While she lay in his arms he said, “You know, I believe I have only once before felt so at peace.”
“Were you alone then? You said being alone gives you peace.”
He frowned. “No. I was married. I had a wife and son.”
Under the cover, he ran his fingers over her breast. She felt her nipple tighten.
He continued, his voice quite sad. “They were killed. We lived in a dangerous place. I once visited a beautiful place. Ephesus. Rich land. Sunny weather. They don’t hold with war. I spent a great many years wishing every day that I had taken them there.”
“I am so sorry.”
“Why is it you wanted so much to be a warrior? You were already sixteen when you returned. You didn’t have to choose the Amazon path.”
“I honor my mother. She was Amazon. And I could ask you, why did you give up the life of the sword?”
His hand fell still and he stared at the roof. “War is evil. I’ve had my fill of it.”
“It’s possible for you, as one man, to decide that, but life isn’t so simple.
“That’s what the leaders who start every war always say. ‘Life isn’t so simple.’ They always have a good reason for going at it.” She had never heard Damon sound bitter, but she could not miss that s
harp edge now. “Well, their reasons no longer convince me.”
She sat up, stared hard at him. “We are raided regularly by Hittite and Kaska. Do we just give up and let them enslave us? We don’t invade homes and kill innocents.”
She waited in a long, strained silence, both of them unblinking. Then he said, softly but firmly, “Amazons never take prisoners. Do you ever wonder about the families of the men you’ve killed?”
“How dare you ask me such a question!”
He did not flinch. He did not look away. The hard question was still there in his eyes.
“We Amazons have a saying. ‘A female bear is deadly in defense of her young.’ If we lose our reputation for ferocity, we’ll invite worse treatment.”
He pulled her down against him and stroked her hair. In spite of herself, some of her anger drained away.
He said, “I don’t want to argue with you. My feelings are my own. They come from my life. But I can respect that you feel different.”
“No slaving, raping barbarian will take Themiskyra while I live.”
She lay quiet for a while longer in his arms. It was now late afternoon and all the logs had been consumed. He said, “Sadly, we can’t spend the night unless we fetch more wood. I’ll go to the cabin.”
“I’ll come with you. We can talk better there.”
They dressed. She would remember that under his tunic, not far from his heart, lay her arrowhead.
They stepped outside to find quiet snow dropping a veil of white over everything. Bathing with him was one thing, but making love to him might have been a mistake. He’d not asked why she’d come. Perhaps he assumed that she had changed her mind about remaining Amazon until her duty was completed. If so, her purpose here would be more complicated.
“I think I may have misled you. I didn’t come to make love. I let my heart run away. I’ve come to ask you something. Something important.” They passed through the thorn hedge.
He put his arm around her shoulder. “Ask me anything.” “I think I should have spoken sooner.”