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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 21:49:25 GMT -6
blackwolf
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(5/27/03 3:53 pm)
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Lots of fun
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I watched as Bhen Rudha followed Gabby and the new girl to the stream to wash. I could tell that she was sore from her walking. I was going to offer to let her ride Lukos for a while, but I figured she would have refused. I knew all about pride, and that woman had plenty of it. I would just have to find her her own mount somehow. She still wasn't quite up to par yet, even with the strength that I'd given her. Even I was still feeling the effects of the exchange. My senses were a little out of whack, and I was more tired than usual. I didn't let it worry me though. I figured I'd be right as rain soon enough.
I also had a feeling that Bhen Rudha was struggling with something internally. I could feel sadness and pain emanating from her, and wished there was something that I could do to help. However, it was up to the preistess to talk about it, which I prayed she would do.
I listened to Phalon as she complained about how old and useless the map was. I couldn't believe she didn't know how to get to her own home. I hadn't been to my village in years, yet I'd still be able to find it blindfolded.
“You know, don’t you”, Phalon asked, eyes narrowed.
“Who? Me?” I mouthed, pointing my finger at myself, an exaggerated surprised look on my face. “What is it that I’m suppose to know, Phalon?”
“The way. Where we are and where we are headed. You know and you’re having way too much fun watching me stumble through this.”
“And why do you think that?” I asked, even though I was nodding my head silently. Montara berated me for giving her a bad time, making fun of someone with lesser abilities than me. I could tell though he was having just as much fun as me. However, it was true. I did know the way to Phalon's house, had known for some time and didn't need the map to show me. However, me leading the way wouldn't nearly be as much fun as watching Phalon struggle to get to her own home.
“Ah…those wolf instincts of yours. You were there….or Montara was. He led me to the seaport, remember? Have him take me home, Blackwolf. Just for a day.” She fingered the bangles around her wrist. “Oh, to see my mother again!” Phalon breathed in deeply through her nose and continued, “She always smells of flowers, you know? Oh, how I’d like to spend a day with her, let her know how much she means to me, how much she’s taught me, how much she makes me laugh. Tell her again that I love her. Maybe even cook dinner for her.” She laughed at this last thought, “Ok, so maybe that’s not the best idea, but she’d take over in the kitchen anyway. She always does.”
Phalon got a faraway wistful look in her eye. Sadness crept into my being. To know the love of a mother, that is something I had forgotten. The last time I had seen my mother alive was when I had officially become a Protector. I remembered her crying as she gave me away to what I was to become. She had been so proud of me. No matter what I was doing in my life, she had always been proud of me.
I was grateful when Zena interupted my memories. She motioned to me and said “How about we have a little fun with the bigger one?”
“Right behind you Zena!” We followed the sound of a tree being abused and some shouted curses and stopped a few yards away. Zena motioned to me to sneak around the area and come up from behind. I nodded my head and started off.
“Oh, Boudicca? That’s your name right? Where are you??,” Zena called into the wood. “You might as well come out. The woods can be a dangerous place. Why I hear that there are some wolves about this area. There’s a story going around I heard from my friend Aesop about a boy who was recently attacked here.”
Reaching my destination and taking my cue, I lifted my head and gave a long howl. The sound of shrieking and a crashing though the woods turned my howling into uncontrollable laughter. I felt somewhat bad about scaring her so bad, but I had a feeling this newcomer needed to be brought down a rung or two. Something that I had learned early on in my days, if you thought you were the best, you were easier to beat.
Sensing Xendra following the stranger to help her, I made my way back to camp. Figuring that we would be spending the rest of the day here, I unloaded Lukos and gave him a good brushing down. I once again tried to make contact with him, and though I heard a little mumbling, I was still not able to talk to him. I shrugged my shoulders. I eventually would be able to speak to him, of this I was sure. It would just take time. After I finished brushing him, I gave him a pat and sent him on his way. He wouldn't wander far, and I figured he wanted some time to himself. He was a lot like me in that liked to be alone when he could. Right now, I was content with the group, but I knew eventually there would come a time when I would leave.
I decided not to dwell on that though, and went through my packs to see exactly what I had. I came across the shirt that I had bought back in the village to barter with Evergreen. That seemed like such a long time ago. I refolded it and placed it back in the bag. When we found Evergreen, I swore to give it to her. I also realized I still had Red's axe in my possession. Seeing as how she now had Evergreen's sword with her, I decided to hang on to the axe, seeing as how I no longer had my sword. That sword had been my friend for a long time and had gotten me out of a lot of scrapes. Though it was just a sword, there was nothing else that could replace it. Other than those items, there were herbs and spices, bandages, a little dried food, and my small knife. I never had the need for it, so I kept it in the bag instead of on my person. I never knew when it might come in handy.
I replaced everything into my bags, and then lay down to rest in the shade of the trees. It was sunset when I finally woke up feeling much refreshed. The girls and Red had returned from the stream, and I decided that I needed a bath also. I might not have smelled as bad as the slave girl had, but I knew I wasn't too far off. I went with Phalon to wash. We scrubbed each other's back, and afterwards washed our clothes. She pleaded with me once again to ask Montara to show the way to her house, and I answered that I would ask him. We returned to the camp and, like the others, I wrapped myself in a blanket. I turned down the offer though to wrap my hair in one of Phalon's cloths. My hair was short and dried quickly. Besides, I wouldn't be caught dead in one of those bright things. I did laugh with the others though about our foolish garb. We really did look a sight.
The appearance of armed men coming from the wood startled me, and made me angry at myself. Out of everyone here, I would've been the most likely to sense their approach, and I hadn't. I had been caught up in the fun of it all, and had forgotten that though we had beaten the Evil, it was still alive in the world.
I felt the need for battle rising in me. I glared at the men closest to me and gave a low growl in my throat. Though I was unarmed, I knew I could kill these men easily, and I wanted to so badly. Looking towards Red, I saw the same look in her eyes. However, I saw Zena squeeze her hand, and figured she had some plan. I switched my appearance to one of alarm and fright, but I kept my senses on alert. I glanced around at all the men, and in seconds I knew which ones were more experienced. You could tell in the way they held there weapons and in their stance. Even though we were women, they still kept a wary eye on us. In contrast, the younger, less experienced ones were more confident in their attitude and weren't as on guard. I smiled inwardly, knowing that if given the chance, these would be the easiest to kill and therefore the first to die.
I almost lost my control though when Zena was thrown to the ground by the leader. I took a slight step foward and was immediately stopped by a sword at my throat. Normally if this had happened, the person would have died immediately. However, I concentrated on controlling myself, and allowed myself to be bound and set on a log next to the others. Thinking we were no longer a threat, all the men flocked to where the 'soup' was being served. They didn't even leave someone to guard us. I quickly started to work at loosening my ropes. It took me some time, but I eventually got the rope loose enough to almost slip my hand through. Gritting my teeth, I dislocated one of my thumbs and slipped my hand out of the rope. Grabbing my thumb in my other hand, I popped it back into place and then released the other hand. I kept the rope around my hands though, just to make it seem like I was still tied up. By this time, both Phalon and Zena were tied up also and all of the men were enjoying their feast. If I had my way, this would be their last.
"To fight for what you believe in and to never give up is to have the heart of a wolf."
Edited by: blackwolf at: 6/2/03 1:41:40 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 21:50:54 GMT -6
blackwolf
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(5/27/03 3:53 pm)
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Lots of fun (continued)
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Night finally came over the land. The men sat around the fire and talked about their good fortune. Some glanced our way, and I could see from their looks that if their leader ever fell asleep, they would ignore his command to not touch us. Those thoughts quickly died though as the men started to feel the effects of the soup. At first it was only noticeable in the way they moved and sat. Eventually though, they all started to visit the bushes, some walking and some running. Finally, our guard too needed to get away, and I saw my chance. Sliding off of the log, I crept in the darkness behind the other women and moved towards the packs which the idiot men had left alone. They were so interested in the food they had forgotten to look through them. I found my belongings and got out the knife. I knew there was a reason I kept the stupid thing around. I quickly moved back to the women and started to cut their bindings. By the time I reached them though, most of the other's had already worked themselves loose. In the end, I would only have to cut the slave girl's and Phalon's bindings. I sat back and waited for Zena's signal.
"To fight for what you believe in and to never give up is to have the heart of a wolf."
Edited by: blackwolf at: 6/2/03 1:41:40 pm
1 Xwpfan
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(5/27/03 6:51 pm)
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Nice to meet you Boudicca..but you need a bath.
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As Boudicca and Xendra began to walk back to the camp, Xendra was sizing up this newest stranger.
Admitedly Boudicca preplexed Xendra a bit. On one hand Boudicca was this tall women well armed wearing a full length chain mail tunic,full of moxie and bravado and then on the other hand she was shrieking like a scared child.
Which was the true Boudicca? Xendra wondered.
As they walked , Xendra got downwind of Boudicca, Xendra stopped smelled the air and then turned to Boudicca and said,"By the gods what is that stench?
Xendra took a step closer towards Boudicca and said "My stars! It's coming from YOU! You stink and I think there are some fleas in your chain mail!"
Boudicca stared incrediously at Xendra and stammered,"Your kidding right? It can't be me!"
Xendra slowly backed away and said," It can be and it is."
Boudicca began to curse again, "I bet it's from that damn slave girl! I'd leave her right here if she didn't owe me 5 dinars for her freedom."
Xendra stared and asked "You really own that girl? "
Boudicca nodded.
Xendra said ,"I know it's not really my place to say anything but It's not right to own somebody , you should set her free...maybe you two could stay with us for awhile..after you clean up of course."
Boudicca gave a slight smirk and said," Well I guess I could stay awhile, maybe even train with you Amazons and then return back up north in the British isles and kick some Roman ass as leader of the Celts.
Xendra burst out laughing,"You don't pull any punches do you?! You just say what you mean don't you. Come on we'll get you cleaned up and we'll tell the others about your gradiose ideas over dinner."
Boudicca snapped back "It's not an idea, it's a plan theres a big difference."
The two walked in silence til they reached the water's edge then Xendra motioned for Boudicca to get undressed.
At first it was more like a disarment exercise then a disrobement. Xendra watched with great amusement as Boudicca pulled knives from each arm, then she pulled one from her back before removing her chainmail,from her black leather boots she withdrew two lethal looking daggers and as she got ready to slip out of her brown leather pants she carefully removed from each hip a small knife.
Xendra all but laughed at the small aresenal of knives that laid on the ground.
Xendra kiddingly said,"Its a shame you're all armed up and no one to fight."
Boudicca failed to hear the jest in Xendra's voice and answered seriously, Oh this? This is just 7 lil knives, you should see my cross bows and my whip!"
Xendra just shook her head and began removing her own boots as to bathe.
Boudicca looked at Xendra funny and said," Your bathing too?
Xendra hadn't really thought about it, it was just an instinctual thing to do so she responded "No, not if you dont want me to "
"No, no that's fine." Boudicca replied, but seemed highly uncomfortable as she removed her scarlet underclothing .
Boudicca turned slightly askew in an attempt to hide her body from Xendra.
Before Xendra could politely shield her eyes, Xendra couldn't help but notice that Boudicca was a much fuller built woman than Xendra had imagined, not to say she didnt have muscles, because they were clearly present as well, but the removal of the underclothing had revealed a firmer heavier build then expected.The chain mail had deftly hidden Boudicca's true build beautifully.
Xendra wanting to ease the moment of discomfort removed her own tunic exposing her own body and the tattoos which were still present and visble.
Boudicca stared but spoke not a word.
It was obvious to Xendra that they both had so many questions they could ask of the other, but neither seemed very comfortable with the idea of asking so instead Xendra began to wade into the water and Boudicca followed.
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 5/27/03 8:16:04 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 21:52:02 GMT -6
shamrock xwp
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(5/27/03 7:41 pm)
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You call THAT bathing???
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My reference for this post is the SDA Soap History Page
"Boy these Greek women sure are friendly." Boudicca thought to herself as she worked up the courage to immerse her breasts in the cold water. "Either that or . . . ahem . . . Gee, I don't see any men around here. Oh Boy."
She smiled kindly at her bathing mate and wondered how it was she was always getting herself into uncomfortable situations like this. She wanted so badly to say, "Look honey. I don't want any. I'm not looking. Got me a girl back in Britain waiting for me to get back." But decided against it. She could use all the friends she could get.
Xendra pulled out a clay block and some sand and went to work on her ample body. Boudicca's eyes widened, "Wow, these Amazon women really are tough," she thought. "Rubbing their skin with rocks instead of soap. I can learn a lot from them." She grinned broadly at Xendra and fished around on the bottom of the river until she found a fist sized lava rock. She rubbed it all over her body with vigor not wanting to be outdone; and when she finally left the stream she was scratched all over and even a little bloody.
Xendra finished her bath on shore in the usual Greek way by rubbing oil on her skin and then using her strigil to scrap it away. She offered some oil to Boudicca and couldn't help but admire the toughness this Celt had shown by using a lava rock to bath with. Xendra decided that all the tales she had heard about the deeds of the Celts couldn't have told the half of it.
Boudicca having watched Xendra with the strigil thought she had this part of the bath routine under control and after rubbing herself with oil she used one of her sharpest knives to scrap it away, taking with it all her body hair. "My but Amazons are tough bathing with rocks and knives," she thought. Boudicca knew that the tales she had heard of the deeds of the Amazon women couldn't possibly have told the half of it.
She donned a too tight dress she saved for just such occasions and took some soap out of her bag. After washing her clothes in the river and soaping down her leather, she started to feel hungry and hoped that someone might offer her a hot meal. She loved trying native cuisine. And where had that slave of hers gotten too . . .
Edited by: shamrock xwp at: 5/27/03 7:48:31 pm
the chaotrix
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(5/28/03 3:12 am)
Reply ...another man's treasure
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Anakreon brandished the empty bowl in the face of the Arabian Queen, who had stepped between him and handmaid that he had just struck down. The Queen of Arabia had not said a word, merely locked hard amber-green eyes with the Lord of Brigands.
"Get down, your Arabianess, or I will break your teeth with this bowl when I am done with her. Your cook lies. My men and I have heartier bellies than to be cowed by your exotic foods. She poisoned us and she will die. For you to stand in the way of her punishment must mean you intended it as well.. If this is the case my, Arab bitc--"
"M'Lord!"
A lone brigand staggered into the amazon's clearing. He was muddied and held both hands to the blood-soaked rags at his hip. He gave a gurgly cough and limped on towards the center of the camp where other thugs shifted where they sat or paced uneasily. Some had edged closer to the bushes as they tried to remain menacing.
Until the injured man had entered, it seemed all eyes had been on Anakreon and the 'Arabian Queen'. The beaten thug stumbled onward, so intent on reaching his Lord he did not notice the tableu that seem to hold almost everyone's attention. The handmaid cowered on the ground inching away from her Queen and The Brigand-Lord. Her eyes were not on either, but on the other 'handmaids' trussed up nearby.
"M'lord... gods! I've found you.. !" before the man careened into Anakreon, the second in command caught him and held him up.
"What is it, dog? Can't you see our Lord is busy with the Arab bitch?" Anakreon looked over his shoulder, and recognized the thug. With a quick flick if his dark eyes he estimated the brigand's condition. He dropped the hand that held the bowl, turned and jerked his head up at the man and growled. This was enough for the thug to know he could continue.
"Sir... 'ts Dekeon... Dekeon--"
"What about my idiot cousin?" spat Anakreon.
"Dek-" he gave up a couple of gurgly coughs before continuing " Dekeon an' de otherz.. dead... all dead..."
Throwing the bowl aside he smacked the aside the underling that was holding up the refugee. He then snarled at the closest of the 'menacing' men and with a sweeping gesture indicated the Queen and her cook. "Keep your blades on them, till I come back to finish this" The wounded man whimpered as the Brigand Lord dragged him away from the circle of women toward the trees.
Anakreon gritted through his teeth and he roughly shoved the thug outside the circle of light.
"What's this? How? We knew the exact numbers, the place and path of that caravan. I left him with a perfect ambush! "
The man yelped a little when he hit the ground. "Th-Th-They had a D-D-emon warrior sssir. One from another land. H-H-His armor was- I- I'd never seen it before. There were so many of us and only one of him... The merchant lords guards didn't last too long but he-.. He was a demon.. " The man began to whimper and weep until Anakeron kicked him. It looked like he as about to kick him again but instead ran a few paces off.
The thug looked about, sniveling, thinking this part of his nightmare had ended since Anakreon was just.. gone. He began to crawl and suddenly Anakreon was back on him, kicking him back down.
"That Demon was a Jappa body guard, you idiot. I warned Dekeon about him.." Anakreon continued through clenched teeth, his fury tightening by degrees as he continued his interrogation.
"What happened to the others, Merrik.."
"Th-Th- others, Lord?" squeaked Merrik.
"Falkan, The merchant Lord...?" Anakreon coached in a deadly soft voice.
"He.. he was killed.. And.. And we thought at some point we had killed that demon wa-" Merrik caught Anakreon's dark look and stammered, "Uh.. bodyguard.. " He rushed on ahead with the story while he could still speak "...so we thought that Jappa madman had been killed and we went after Falkhar's cart with the gold .... Yeah, and, and that's where we found his little exotic beauty hinding." Merrik gave a vile chuckle that degenerated into a coughing fit, "and, since the treasure was secured, a few of us were helping ourselves to a little Taste of the Orient, y'know.. ? when--"
Anakreon clouted the thug on the head so hard he blacked out for a few seconds. "IDIOT DOG! SHE WAS THE TREASURE! We agreed that Dekeon would keep the Merchant Lord's gold, but THE GIRL WAS MINE!"
Merrik gagged as the Brigand Lord gripped his throat and growled dangerously low and soft "What happened to the girl..."
"I.. I don't know... I- the demon warrior--"
Most of the amazons were too busy with their plans to care or for that matter hear most of the interrogation, but there was no ignoring it's end...
"I " thwack
"HAVE HAD" crunch
"ENOUGH" kramm
"OF THIS" thrakk
"DEMO--"
Edited by: the chaotrix at: 5/28/03 3:20:13 am
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 21:54:11 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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(5/28/03 4:47 am)
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...But Not Cleansed
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Wading into the stream, the tall woman hissed a little at its chill, then quickly dunked herself. With a gasp she stood and lathered with the soft Roman soap. And while she enjoyed the act of washing, she could not help the snarl that curled her lip at the memories the fragrance rose within her.
The chill was less when she dunked a second time, rinsing the soap away. She felt clean, and while that was very good, it was not quite enough. She did not feel . . . cleansed. A certain amount of pragmatism asserted itself, and she realized that it would have to be enough for now . . . to be clean, if not cleansed. She had decided to have a future, despite the emptiness that carved itself within her, and would seek answers later.
For now, she held out her hand to the girl, smiling a little, “Be cold, bu’be nae ta fas’ er deep.” The girl stood a long moment, arms crossed over her chest, a mistrustful eye on the water and the woman who stood within it. Finally she clasped the proffered hand and stepped into the stream.
Pebbles shifted under the girl’s feet and she started to slide. Before she could windmill her arms to try and keep balance, strong hands grabbed, keeping her upright. Bhen Rudha looked her in the eye, serious, and said, “Be trustin’ me, aye? Be nae lettin’ ye be fallin’, e’er.” As soon as the words left her mouth, the Red Woman stared at the girl, eyes wide with a fair bit of shock.
She wondered if the girl understood what she had said, truly had said. It was one thing to offer help in the moment. Quite another to give a promise such as she just had. She had sworn to keep another from falling . . . to help them through their days, protect them from harm. It was a kinship oath. And even if she had not said it in the traditional ceremony, with a more poetic rendering, still, a shiver passed through her frame as the words settled deep in her soul, as binding as her vows to the Goddess.
What had she done?
The girl watched the changes in her face and narrowed her eyes a bit in thought. She made as if to speak, then appeared to change her mind and said, “I do not think I will slip again, thank you.”
Bhen Rudha took a deep breath, nodded and replied, “Be welcome, most welcome.” She flicked her glance over to Gabby, who was watching them in the stream while bitting on her lower lip. When the young Amazon noticed the regard, she blinked, then made a show of looked about the area, as if truly on watch.
Chuckling softly, the tall woman handed the soap to the girl, to start her own ablutions, and called to Gabby, “Be throwin’ me clothes, aye? Be after changin’ me mind an’ now after wantin’ ta give tha cloth a dunkin’ ta.”
Blinking a few times, Gabby tried to puzzle out the words that were supposed to be Greek, but sometimes didn’t sound like it. “What? You want your clothes?”
“Aye.”
“Oh . . . okay.” The young Amazon moved to retrieve that tunic and trews, then crossed to the stream edge to hand them over.
“Go raibh maith, agat. Be thankin’ ye.” The translation followed quick enough to head off the coming question.
“Aye, you’re welcome, Red,” Gabby said with a sudden bright grin, resolutely taking up her guard post again.
Her expression cast with fondness, the Red Woman turned to watch the slave girl, kneeled and pushed her clothes into the water. Her hands kneeded the tough cloth while she waited to ask for the soap back. The girl was being thorough, making certain that each cut and scrape was clean, to guard against festering. Then she tried to wash her hair.
It was soon apparent that it would take someone else’s hands to work through the snarl that the long, dark hair had become. After tossing her sodden clothes over a shoreline bush, Bhen Rudha moved to where the girl struggled and gently took the soap away. “Dinnae. Be doin’ tha’ for ye, aye? Be sittin’ facin’ tha current.” She motioned to a small sandbar that was wide enough to sit on comfortably and moved to kneel behind the girl.
With a deep sigh the girl sat where instructed. “You’re not going to cut it are you?” she asked, wariness back in her voice.
“Dae ye be wantin’ me ta?”
“No,” she answered, shaking her sodden head only a little.
“Then nae. I will nae bu’ be workin’ ou’ tha tangles.”
“All right,” was all the girl said before letting herself be leaned back onto the woman’s knees, so that her hair streamered out in the water.
Bhen Rudha ran the soap through the girls hair, working up a good lather, then held out it out for the girl to hold. With surprising gentleness, the woman then started picking apart the knots, starting at the ends of the long hair and working up. She used the current to help pull some of the lesser knots out and constantly worked her fingers through the moving strands of hair.
Gabby, watching the proceedings with avid curiosity, asked, “Red, where did you learn to do that?”
“Yeah, where did you learn something like this? I can barely feel a thing, and I know my hair is very badly tangled,” the girl echoed, shifting a bit to get more comfortable.
Glancing up for only a moment, the Red Woman grinned a little and said, “I dinnae be born a priestess, aye? I be ha’in’ ta be trainin’ fer mana long years afore tha Goddess be markin’ me Her own.” Seeing that she had her audience, she took back the soap and worked up another lather before continuing. “There be a time when I be a maiden fer tha Máthair as an Tua, tha Mother o’ tha Axe. Be liken’ ta a High Priestess, aye?”
The young Amazon moved closer and sat cross legged in the grass, her staff across her knees, listening intently to what the Celt was saying. Bhen Rudha found herself smiling a little more, enjoying telling a story that did not involve death or pain. After concentrating on a particularly stubborn snarl, she continued, “I be servin’ tha Máthair as an Tua by bringin’ food, an’ helpin’ her dressin’ an’ bathin’. Among other thin’s.
“Betimes, when she be runnin’ with tha Wild Hunt, she be returnin’ lookin’ nae sae differn’ than ye, lass,” she nodded to the girl who was shivering a little in the chill water.
“Be me duty ta be straightenin’ tha mess o’ her hair, aye?” She retrieved the soap for a third lather at the scalp and continued, “Be sittin’ in tha washin’ spring. Nae sae different than this, an’ be pickin’ ou’ bits o’ wood an’ leaf. Betimes tha odd feather or tha bit o’ fur.” The memories rose, and she could not help but laugh softly. Part of her felt that it was very good to laugh, even just a little.
“What’s the Wild Hunt?” Gabby asked, breaking into her thoughts.
Hot on the Amazon’s question came one from the girl, “Why did you have to serve the . . . may-hair as an too-ah?”
Working out the last tangles, the woman ran her fingers freely through the length of the girl’s hair, thinking about her reply. After a moment she said, “Be tellin’ ye o’ tha Hunt when ye be a wee bit older I be thinkin’ Gabby.” When the Amazon made to protest, she held up a hand and, saying, “I dinnae be wantin’ yer máthair ta be thumpin’ me aye?”
“Oh . . . all right,” Gabby said with a sigh.
“Be thankin’ ye. Why I be servin’ tha Máthair as an Tua? Be tha test o’ service.” She nudged the girl to get up out of the water, slowly unfolding her tired legs as she followed. “Cen I be servin’ fer a trinity o’ moons, in silence? If’n I be able ta, I be learnin’ mana thin’s. Truest I be learnin’ be tha treasure o’ silence. Be findin’ tha song o’ tha Goddess there.”
Gabby scrambled to her feet, helping the girl step out of the stream with a smile, saying, “Don’t you feel better now? You sure smell better!” Looking over at the Red Woman, she said, “You went three months without speaking? Anything?”
With a chuckle, Bhen Rudha stepped out of the stream, rubbing her thighs to ease the continued strain from them. She ran a hand through her short hair, which was already drying, and watched as Gabby helped the girl wrap her hair up in Phalon’s scarf while answering, “Aye. Be nae sae hard. Be there a priestess o’ Brid, be keepin’ silence fer a turn o’ tha year fer her trainin’. Dinnae thin’ a slim bit o’ months be sae difficult, aye?”
The young Amazon whistled low and shook her head. “I don’t know if I could do that.”
“Be nae tha path o’ tha Goddess fer e’eryone. Dinnae feel bad, aye?” She smiled a bit, to prove she meant what she said, and looked at the girl. She stood, wrapped in a blanket, with a bright scarf coiled and piled atop her head. And despite her brighter appearance, dark green eyes stared at her out of a very solemn face. Puzzled, the Celt asked, “Be ye a’righ’?”
As if out of nowhere, the girls blurted out, “Everyone always asks by now. I don’t understand . . . why haven’t you asked my name?”
Edited by: BhenRudha at: 6/1/03 2:09:40 am
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:12:03 GMT -6
1 Xwpfan
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(5/28/03 7:27 pm)
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What Strange bathing rituals you have
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Once in the waters depths Xendra began her bathing ritual she pulled out a clay block and some sand. The coarseness felt good on her tired and sore body.
From time to time as Xendra scrubbed, she would look over at Boudicca and find her grinning from ear to ear at Xendra.
Xendra thought it a lil odd but to be polite she smiled back at Boudicca.
Xendra watched in amazement as Boudicca vigorously rubbed all over her body a lava rock that she had plucked from the waters depths.
Xendra winced imaging how much scrubbing with a lava rock must hurt and tear on wet skin. Maybe this Boudicca was really tough after all.
Xendra was becoming aware that Boudicca’s eyes seemed to follow her every move and so she quickly finished her bath.
Once on shore Xendra was a bit hesitant on shore on whether she should follow through with her usual bath routine of rubbing oil on her skin and using a strigil to scrap it away.
Xendra caressed her legs with oils til they were smooth as the finest silk and then skillfully used the strigil on her legs.As Xendra bent for better control she spotted Boudicca carefully watching her. Somehow, at that moment Boudicca's stares made Xendra feel a bit uncomfortable.
In that moment,Xendra wished her tunic wasn’t so far away.
As Xendra was finishing she saw Boudicca emerge from the water much worse for wea. Boudicca's firm body was all scratched and bloodied from the lava rock.
Xendra temporarily forgot about her own discomforts and offered Boudicca some of the comforting sensation of the oils.
Xendra watched in disbelief as Boudicca after carefully rubbing herself with oil used one of her sharpest knives to scrape the oils off.
As Boudicca scrapped with the oils off with her knife Xendra shuddered ,she knew it had to be taking both skin and body hair off of Boudicca's body.
Xendra was amazed. Boudicca's bathing rituals were far more strenous than that of any Amazon for that, Boudicca gained a measure of respect and admiration in Xendra’s eyes.
After witnessing Boudicca’s all too painful bath, Xendra forgot about Boudiccca's leering stares and decided to continue her usual bathing ritual and laid out upon a smooth faced rock.
Stretched out on the warm smooth rock with the sun shinning down upon her, Xendra was perfectly content. Xendra actually smiled as she allowed the sun to dry her and bathe her in delicious warmth.
As Xendra closed her eyes, she wondered “What kind of woman is tough enough to bath with knives and lava rocks?" From first impressions Boudicca had not seemed the type.
Within a few moments her closed her eyes adjusted to having glorious shades of yellow, red, and various oranges dancing around in her closed eyelids instead of the much dreaded darkness. Xendra was at ease, content for the first time for in a long time.
Xendra basked in the sun's warmth and the cleaness of her body.After all she was clean,warm and safe and for the first time in a long time Xendra was at peace.
All afternoon Xendra did not move from her position of sunbathing save once when she turned her head to check on Boudicca.
Xendra glanced around and Xendra let out a small gasp as she spotted Boudicca completely naked near the waters edge laid out a monstrous sharp jaded rock.
Just looking at Boudicca on the jaded rock made Xendra physically uncomfortable.
As Xendra continued to stare at Boudicca laid out upon the rock, Xendra decided maybe there was some truth to the tales that she had heard about the Celts.
However , Xendra did not know that Boudica had just tried to mimic Xendra's bathing style and had simply failed to choose a smooth faced rock …
Boudicca said not a word so Xendra returrned to her blissful state of absorbing the sun's warmth and enjoyig the coolong breeze that would rush by on occassion.
Xendra was wholeheartedly enjoying the silence and warmth of the day, that is until Boudicca broke the blissful silence by loudly asking;” Hey, didn’t you say something about dinner earlier?”
Xendra groaned and refused to open her eyes.
Boudicca quereied again,"Isn't it almost time for dinner?Xendra’s first instinct was to ignore Boudicca’s questions for Xendra did not want to sacrfice the moment of bliss and contentment for anything or any body not even Boudicca .
Finally,Xendra begrudgingly reopened her eyes and could see by the sun’s position that sadly Boudicca was right, it was nearly time to make dinner preparations.
Xendra jumped off her rock as did Boudicca then they both quickly dressed and headed back to camp.
On the way back to camp, Boudicca droned on about her many escapades and many adventures, both real and imagined.
Xendra just listened and nodded at the appropiate moments not sure whether she should interupt or even contradict some of her stories.
As they neared the camp Boudicca began to tell Xendra how she felt it was her duty and destiny to go back to the British Isles and fight and defeat the Romans.
Xendra sighed heavily,Xendra tried to patiently explain that that if it was just a fight she was wanting that there would soon be more Romans than she could handle, that she could join the group on there journey to Rome.
Boudicca rolled her eyes in exasperation and explained to Xendra;” It sounds great but in Rome I am not the leader of the Celts, I have to go back to the British isles to do that!”
Xendra nodded in agreement but did not truly understand, here this woman was in a dress that was obviously too tight for her and would steal knowing glances at xendra and yet wanted to go slay romans in the British Isles.
Xendra pondered, maybe didn't understand things like destiny after all, to her a dead Roman was a dead Roman it didn’t matter where it happened as long as it happened.
The rest of the journey back to camp was a quiet one save the swooshing of Boudicca's dress and the polite cough Xendra would give out each time she would catch Boudicca stealing glances at Xendra
Finally, Xendra could see the smoke rising from the camp they had thankfully finally reached camp.
Xendra still unsure of the motivation behind Boudicca’s constant stares or how she felt about them, sought a moments separation from Boudicca.
Xendra turned to Boudicca and said," Dressed in that garb you'll be little use helping with dinner preparations .Why don't you go sit by the fire and let your body rest while I help with any needed meal preparations".
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 5/29/03 5:10:47 pm
shamrock xwp
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(5/29/03 5:58 pm)
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Food at last
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Finally she was getting some food! Now that was more like it. Boudicca thought she'd faint from hunger, these Amazon women didn't seem to eat often. As they walked along toward dinner, Boudicca kept wondering why this woman kept sneaking peeks at her. So she stared at her trying to figure her out.
Xendra asked about Britain and what Boudicca's life had been there, so she talked excitedly about her home and her plans to rid it of Romans. Although honored at Xendra's invitation to battle the Romans with the Amazons, Boudicca was determined to return home. "Perhaps," she thought, "I should go and observe the tactics the Amazons use against them before I return home."
Undecided she thought about this Xendra's odd views on slavery and her lack of understanding Boudicca's strong desire to fight with her fellow Celts against the Romans. "Takes all kinds," she thought to herself. "I'm going home eventually and either 5 dinars richer or with my slave in tow. After all I helped the girl out of a bad situation, healed up her injuries, and fed her. I ought to at least get back my investment. Nothing in life is free not even freedom."
A great many people she personally had known had lost their lives fighting for Celtic freedom. How could Boudicca not return home to fight? How could she not also be willing to die for freedom? So many had been slaughtered by the Romans. Women and children stolen from their villages and sold as slaves. No Boudicca would return home and fight. She could see there was much to learned from the Amazons. She'd stay. She'd learn. She'd go home better for it and with skin like leather from bathing with rocks.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:13:03 GMT -6
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(5/30/03 9:31 pm)
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Zeal and over confidence
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Xendra stood at a distance and watched to make sure Boudicca joined the others at the fires edge. Once Boudicca was securely seated Xendra felt free.
Xendra offered to go hunt for meat to add to all of Zena’s wonderful offerings..Phalon nodded in agreement so Xendra changed back into her boots, pants and long tunic.
Before leaving camp Xendra made sure to secure her bow and quiver of arrows before she mounted Solaria or left camp.
Normally Xendra would have crept off into the woods but Xendra knew that with all the movement and racket being made about camp there would not be a suitable animal for quite some distance.
Xendra rode Solaria hard and with the pounding of each hoofprint Xendra found her thoughts being less and less about hunting and more about Boudicca and their conversations .
As Xendra let her mind wander she found it a little odd and a bit disturbing that she had probably found out more about Boudicca in one day than she did about Puella in a whole winters time.
Perhaps it was her Celtic blood and not really Boudicca’s fault that she was so talkative,after all the Celts were never known for writing things down, there’s was an oral history.
Xendra chuckled and thought Boudicca is obviously just following that tradition…maybe.
Xendra couldn’t help but wonder why did they have to hand down stories from generation to generation? Why couldn’t they be like them and just write them in a scroll?.
After riding and thinking for quite some time, Xendra dismounted from Solaria and carefully walked beside her until she heard a slight rustle.
Xendra did not move. Xendra stayed on Solaria’s left side and drew her bow across Solaria’s back, when the animal came in to direct view Xendra let the arrow fly- whoosh ! Direct hit !
Xendra, now had a nice rabbit to add to the stew.
Xendra quickly gathered the rabbit and wrapped it up and put it in her saddle bag and headed back to camp, still distracted by thoughts about Boudicca .
Boudicca had spoken with such zeal and passion about the Celts that Xendra wonderfed if she Boudicca could be part of the Fianna that she herslef had heard so much about .The Fianna’s acts of bravery and skills were in Ireland, almost as legendary as King Arthur’s knights.
Xendra laughed out loud to herself as she thought “Then again if Boudicca was actually a part of the Fianna she certainly would have already heard about it !”
As Xendra thought about Boudicca’s many stories she couldn’t help but wonder how much of Boudicca’s stories were true, some of her stories seemed overly grand and others just seemed beautiful and almost mystical in nature.
.
As she rode back to camp Xendra began to dreamily wonder about some of the places Boudicca had mentioned in passing like Achill Island, The Knap of Howar and she didn’t know why but even Creevy Keel filled her thoughts.Perhaps, because Boudicca had spoken so passionately about wanting to save lives but Xendra couldn’ t help but wonder how many would end up in Creevy Keel a sacred spot for graves and temples.
As Xendra rode back to camp her mind was so preoccupied with thoughts Boudicca that she never took notice of the myraid of hoofprints or the broken branches that lined her path.
Upon arriving back to camp Xendra was a bit taken back as some members of the group, including Boudicca were in front of the fire and had bound up their hair in some of Phalon’s colored cloths and were dancing and giggling like small children rather than fearsome warriors.
Xendra quickly tethered her horse, unpacked the rabbit and pulled from her saddle bag a sharp knife in order to skin and filet the rabbit. Once the rabbit was ready , she returned her knife to her saddle bag and she offered up the rabbit to be cooked .
Finally Xendra was ready to sit down and allowed herself to be amused by the carefree antics and after awhile even Xendra found herself laughing and even joining in on the playfulness..
However, Red stood apart, perhaps not liking or understanding about unusual garb or the light hearted play.
Zena however, spotted Red and playfully but gently took Red’s hand and gently tugged her into the circle as they danced around the fire.
Just as Red began to lighten up and the slightest hint of a smile fell across her lips, Red’s face went ashen for she saw over Zena’s right shoulder a group of armed men emerging from the woods beyond the grove .
Xendra turned as she heard the loud rustling of feet as the men encompassed about them.
Within a heartbeat the others became aware of the approaching danger and froze where they stood for they were virtually defenseless, their much needed weapons were not with their reach but rather already secured with their bedrolls..
Visually it appeared quite the mismatch, here the group was donning colorful garbs and were weaponless while a heavyily armed motley group of unshaven leering men surrounded the women.
Had the leader known he was dealing with Amazons he may not have been so eager to push past them or dare stand before them so brazenly . He mistakenly thought he had superior forces and stood there with a false confidence assuming that he had absolute power over the women.
He was wrong.
He ordered the thugs to surround the group and then to tie each womans’ hands .
Normally a great fight would have ensued for it’s an Amazons nature to accept challenges and to take up a fight, but it was obvious with just a look from Zena that that something other than a physical fight was to be a afoot so the group did not put up much resistance.
Xendra looked over at Boudicca to ensure that neither she or her slave resisted too hard or got hurt or injured in any way.
Once Xendra made sure that Puella, Boudicca and her slave were all right ,Xendra kept a steady gaze on Zena waiting for any sign as what to do next.
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/15/03 5:50 am
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:14:19 GMT -6
Zena 1
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(5/31/03 4:10 pm)
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The Eyes Have It
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“If eyes were arrows I’d be covered with feathers,” Zena thought silently as she fussed around the herbs and vegetables that she was using to prepare the evening meal for the thugs. Thirty pairs of eyes followed her smallest move, watching her peel and chop and thirty mouths salivated at the thought of a good rabbit stew cooked by a woman’s hand. Six pairs of eyes had thoughts other than dinner and focused intently on her, waiting for the sign to take the camp by force if needed. Two pairs of eyes wandered frantically over the camp seeking any way out of the dilemma, and one pair of amber-green eyes continued to glare with fixed hatred at Anakreon.
Every Amazon child is trained to take the leader’s role if the queen is not present. Every child knows to follow and support the sister who has the plan. While only Xendra was of the tribe, the rest had travelled together long enough to know the Amazon way. A quick assessment of the situation had told them that Zena had the plan and would lead this time, but since they had been warned to silence, they stared at her and in their minds asked, “What’s the plan?” The slave girl watched Gabby and mimicked her behavior and Boudicca eventually fell into the pattern after noticing that everyone but she seemed to have a secret knowledge that what was about to happen was not what it would seem to be.
Only Phalon and Zena knew the secret of the soup, for the flea incident had been between the two of them, but Zena’s mysterious immunity would soon be evident to all. As Zena stirred the brew she analyzed the difficulty. She had used the rusty and dented immense cooking pot that the thugs carried with their supplies, and there would be plenty of food for all. Xendra’s rabbit would stretch the broth of root vegetables a little further. The problem was that all thirty men had to eat at the same time, otherwise the last would be warned as the first fell ill. She could not employ the others as servers because she had observed Blackwolf working out of her bindings and she would be discovered and punished if Zena had asked to have them freed. Fortunately Anakreon was a curious fellow and offered Zena a solution to the obstacle.
Anakreon indicated to Pelion his desire for a rough camp chair to be brought beside the fire and as Zena and Phalon worked chopping up the last of the bartered goods, the rabbit and the Meadow Rue, he lounged in his chair and questioned the “Arabian”. He pulled off his boots to warm his feet and Phalon started to choke, turning her revulsion into a cough. “Wood smoke,” Zena said when he frowned and she thumped Phalon on her back drowning out her Greek expletive. Condescendingly Anakreon asked about their wealth, customs and appearance. Zena made up an entire civilization for his benefit but was hard pressed to explain the brushburned condition of Boudicca. “A penance from the King,” she finally offered, “for too much talk”. He laughed an ugly and malicious sound and Boudicca went into a daydream where she repaid his laughter ten times over in steel. Then they turned to the preparation and consumption of food.
“No, no. Not from bowl. We eat small with little scoop on handle.” Zena couldn’t resist promoting her line of cutlery. Phalon lifted an eyebrow and shook her head slightly. Catching the look, Zena hastily added, “But..only poor slaves eat so. You drink deep from bowl. Eat lots more fast!"
Anakreon nodded, eager to dive into a bowl of the spicy smelling stew now simmering in his huge camp pot. Phalon had filled her little herb pot twice with the Meadow Rue and carefully cleaned her fingers of the broth after spilling the contents into the mix. Zena stirred the stew and pronounced it finished.
“First I teach ancient Arabian custom. All guests eat first in hospitality. Then we.”
“Oh no you don’t, you and your women get the first bowls. The WE eat."
Zena bowed low, as if to comply, and whispered to Phalon, “Naw sunche gamma.”
“I heard that!! What did you say to her??” Anakreon grabbed Zena’s arm noticing for the first time that under the robe she wore was a very strong arm.
“Please, no hurt!!” Zena bowed again, clenching her jaw to control herself and quickly pulling back her arm.
“I only say you do not wish the ritual.”
“What foreign trickery is this? What ritual?”
“The gamma. We show hospitality by giving food, then we give how you say, “fun” with men."
Anakreon heard the listening men around him take a deep breath in unison.
“You mean you would give yourselves willingly??"
The men groaned.
“Oh yes, for hospitality, but only if we fast first."
Anakreon was thinking with parts other than his brain at that moment, just as his men had silently, but desperately, hoped that he might.
“All right then, but YOU will still eat the first bowl.” The men exhaled as one. Zena bowed.
Forty pairs of eyes watched the wooden bowl in Zena’s hands even as thirty pairs of hands tightened on the bowls of steaming dinner she had handed to them. In Anakreon’s bowl Zena placed a few extra pieces of the Meadow Rue as if they were a prize and batted her eyelashes at him. He smirked. Thirty nine pairs of eyes watched the stew disappear: Zena’s eyes were closed in enjoyment. The men stood and the women sat in silence for a full five minutes and stared as Zena, in the center of the group, smiled and adjusted the cloth in her hair and hummed a little tune. Finally at a sign from Anakreon the thugs all greedily gobbled from their bowls, slurping and fighting each other for more.
The effects of Meadow Rue seemed a long time in coming but it might have been a condition similar to the old adage, “A watched kettle never boils.” Or perhaps they were even a tougher bunch on the interior than they had appeared to be on their exterior. Zena was about to suggest they brew a nice after dinner tea from the roots of the toxic plant when she began to see some of the men shifting uncomfortably on the ground nearby. On wobbly legs they struggled away from the camp (thank the gods) to use the bushes. Twenty-five or so had made the run when Anakreon, realizing the source of the discomfort he was beginning to feel, shoved Zena backwards and nearly into the fire. Red moved silently and powerfully to stand over Zena and stood briefly toe to toe with Anakreon when he became distracted by the arrival of a messenger. After a brief exchange he dragged the man into the trees and was beating him when the stew returned to haunt him with a vengence. They heard him curse and fall to his knees, unable to walk as his stomach knotted with pain.
“NOW!” Zena shouted to her sisters and scrambled to her feet, as Blackwolf freed Phalon and the slave girl. Jumping up and shedding their bonds they hastily grabbed their horses and belongings.
“You REALLY need to learn some manners, cursing in front of women, shame!” Zena called to Anakreon in perfect Greek, the knowledge that he had been twice fooled adding to his misery. “Phalon! How much time do we have??” Zena called as over Ergo’s saddled back.
From her mount Phalon glanced toward the deep woods where the groans of the men echoed in an otherwise peaceful evening. “Mmmmm. Two days. Maybe three.” She squinted toward Anakreon who had collapsed and was lying on a thorn bush. “Make that a week. Men just can’t handle a little pain.”
Edited by: Zena 1 at: 6/1/03 11:30:14 am
1itt1e dog
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(6/1/03 4:58 pm)
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(Sniff...sniff sniff. Gone. Left me. CATCH UP. CATCH UP FAST. Here it is, horse scent. Same horse. Same woman. FAST NOW.)
The small canine was often forgotten. Dogs, after all, were supposed to keep up, follow along, show up when needed. No one actually “cared” for them. This little dog was devoted to Evergreen who had picked him up on the road long ago. Sometimes one of the others would notice that he was not with the group and look for him - especially the pup, she was kind. Then there was the one who spoke dog. She was good. But the tall one who called birds in close was one to watch.
(Pant, pant. Long road. Pass the others. Dust. Thirsty. Stop now. WATER!! S..l..e..e..p.)
Cave Canem
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:15:20 GMT -6
the chaotrix
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(6/2/03 1:54 am)
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The Fallen Son
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Sumire climbed out of the creek and draped herself in a blanket she had found earlier and set aside. The kimono that was hung to dry was still very wet. She would return later to retrieve it.
Knowing what awaited her in the trees still was nothing compared to seeing it in the harsh light of day. The warm glow of the morning changed as she moved through the aftermath. Daylight showed her grisly details that the chaos of the night before had obsured. The air was dead and still here. There was not even the subtle sounds of life that her creek had offered. She did not remember her flight to the creek, but it seemed she must have run the length of the caravan to get there.
The bodies of traveller, guard and brigand alike lie scattered about, along with the carcasses of pack animals still bound to their tack. Carts and wagons were broken and overturned. A couple of wagons that had been set afire still smoldered. She moved through it all like a ghost.
Seeing the remains of some of the carts, she remembered their owners. This wagon here was the smithy who was looking to set up shop in the village his daughter had moved to when she married. That one belonged to two sisters whose woven patterns fetched a fair price at markets. Sumire had bought a small bolt from them. She did not see the smithy or the sisters anywhere near their overturned carts. Perhaps they had escaped, she held to this small comfort as she moved on.
Her pace slowed as she moved up towards the head of the caravan. Dread increased with the number of bodies.
Merchant Lord Falkan was intensley paranoid about his riches and maintained that his wagons were not to go upon common road, but through uncharted back roads and unused paths. He would joke that his wagons were the flagships of the caravaner's fleet sailing the wild seas. Indeed, his wagons held a varied amount of riches that he was using to help pay for the building of a new summer home. As one of his guardsman had told Sumire, Falkan always insisted that he must foresee the construction of his new homes but inevitably would get bored and return to his main palace or travel until it was done. Seven wagons of varied fortune and material were apparently enough to start a house. It seemed excessive to Sumire, but what did she know of merchant lords? She was his entertainment and that's all she needed to know.
For him having 'owned' her, he had treated her well. He had noticed her affinity for fine, simple things like the materials she chose for her kimonos or the instruments she used when performing and he would give her gifts that would supplement her tastes. Often during the trip he would ask if she was comfortable. And he would always show Daisuke respect.
In Jappa, she was not owned by any man, but presented herself for a night of entertainment. She would play music, dance and sing or have conversation with the men who visited. She was no prostitute. Her nights would extend beyond the refined entertainment only when she desired it. And she hardly ever desired it. The fact that now a 'gaikokujin' had owned her and took her from her homeland would never be acceptable no matter how kind he tried to be.
She was no more than a pampered pet. When she had asked about the customs of the people or how their society worked if there was not such clearly defined social strata as in Jappa, he would gently shush her and ask her to continue playing her samisen. He asked her once how she came to know Greek. She answered "It is the language of the western philosophers and playwrights, My Lord." She hoped that this would be enough of a lead in for him to ask her about which plays she had seen or which philosophies she had studied. Instead he snorted and lifted his glass to her "Mo sukoshi, vinum! And what language is that, eh? ...'Vinum'?"
She inclined her head in a bow to hide her smirk at his pronunciation of 'a little more' and poured him more wine. "'Vinum' is Latin for wine, My Lord."
"Ah! So you know Latin as well??"
She shook her head "No, m'lord, Only those few words you teach me." He thought this deliciously funny and playfully pulled her into his lap.
"Right now, my favorite word is 'Sumire'". All she could do was smile and endure gracefully.
She was only a woman, but she was more than that. She was geisha. And a geisha from House Kageyama at that.
Yet, when she stumbled upon his body, instead of the resentment, she felt a pang of emotion. She covered her mouth, shook her head and quickly moved away. Finding herself at the lead wagon she froze. This was-- Sumire put a hand on the cart to steady herself and she closed her eyes. This was where-
This was where she had been taken down. It had all happened so fast. She did not attempt to fight, thinking that it would be over soon. That was until she saw there were other ruffians gathering and waiting for the one on her to finish.
This was where she saw Daisuke last, as he came up from behind them; arrows piercing his armor and staggering from other wounds. His face was a demonic vision, blood sheeted from a headwound causing his eyes to shine brightly against the slick black mask. His inarticulate howl splattered blood upon the first rapist hewn down. The others ran, or tried to.
When they were with the merchant-lord she wanted to free Daisuke. She knew his role as her guardian and attendant was an insult to him. He was the youngest son of Warlord Kageyama, a noble house of Jappa. Such a warrior would never dein to attend women. She should have had an attendant girl at least. Not wanting to bother him she would wait until the last possible moment to ask him to help her dress before her performances for Lord Falkhan and his guests. Daisuke would attend her in stoic silence. Perhaps the only thing that kept him from leaving her to her fate was the fact that he needed her as much as she needed him. She was more suited for the role of his self-appointed mission. Not to mention the fact that she had studied the language of these lands and he had not.
Strangers who knew even a little of her language, like Lord Falkan, knew '-sama' for the honorific it was. Yet they could not know subtelty of tone and inflection of the language. They didn't know the sarcasm Daisuke spoke when he bowed and called her 'Sumire-sama'. When alone, it was even worse. Although clearly younger than her, he would call her simply 'onna'. Woman.
Sumire, in turn, would gently chide him with 'ouji-sama'. Prince. She decided these insults were excusable because they were spoken in their own language. Just hearing this bit of their homeland made all of Daisuke's carefully controlled insults inert. After all, these were both truths: He was a prince and she was only just a woman.
In this land of strangers they reinforced eachother's presence, even if each was an annoyance to the other. Daisuke would have never admitted a friendship to Sumire but she sensed it was there. The more time they spent together as Falkan's possesions, it seemed that the 'Sumire-sama' softened everytime he said it.
Turning to look where Daisuke had fallen she opened her eyes. She remembered how she had tried to staunch his wounds. She had tried to talk him into staying. She had begged him not to leave her alone in this place. Finally, feeling his spirit leave, she cursed his pride and stupidity and then ran until the creek stopped her.
He was where she had left him. His eyes still gazed thru the canopy of leaves just as he did when her name was his last breath. He called her 'Sumire'. --without the honorific. He spoke her name intimately as an equal. And never had she heard in her name so much tangled emotion. So much loss. So much regret.
She sank to her knees beside him.
"Why?
"Why Daisuke?
"Why didn't you let me help you? Why didn't you let me?"
She spoke to him as she began pulling the arrows from his body.
"I will never be a grand warrior like you, but I was not affraid. They came at us and you saw that I was not afraid. Why didn't you let me stand with you? I could have protected you."
She pried the katana from his hand and set it aside. She rose briefly to find some water and rags and settled down again to clean away the dried blood and mud from his armor. She gently washed his face and hands talking to him all the while.
"I am not some idiot girl. I too am from House Kageyama. Not born of noble blood like you, but I serve Kageyama as well. Stupid, selfish boy, did you think the honor of Kageyama was yours to hoard?"
When she was done cleaning him she arranged him in more peaceful repose. She found his shortest knife and wrapped his fingers around it, resting his hands on his chest. Satisfied that he was armed against evil spirits, she sat back and cleaned the blood from his katana and wakuzashi and sheathed them. Removing one of the crests on his armor she wrapped it with the swords in a dark scrap of cloth. She was still a long while, looking at the wrapped swords in her lap.
"I will tell all of House Kageyama how glorious you were in battle. I will sing of Lord Daisuke's fury. Then I will take your crest and katana to your father and mother. I will tell them. And then- and then I- I-- " Her breath caught. She could not breathe for she knew what must come after she faced Lord and Lady Kageyama to tell them that their son, whom she was sent to accompany and protect, had been killed in a foreign land.
She shook herself from the spiral of remorse and fear with a single thought. "Then is not now. I have work to do."
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:16:23 GMT -6
blackwolf
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(6/2/03 3:13 pm)
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Finding new friends
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"Now!!" Zena yelled. I quickly cut the bonds on Phalon and the slave and then we all ran to our packs. As I was loading up Lukos, I caught the scent of something on the night air and knew there was something I had to do. Separating my now dry clothes and the axe from everything else, I finished placing my packs on Lukos and then approached Zena.
"Zena. I'm going to be leaving the group for a little. I heard the leader and that injured man talk about a caravan that they attacked and I want to go check it out. You know, see if there are any survivors. I'll catch up with you later."
"Do you want any of us to go with you?"
"No. That's okay. You all go on ahead to Phalon's house. I can find my way easily enough. I'm going to leave Lukos in Gabby's care. I figured you guys could use him more than I can right now. I'll see if I can round up some more horses to bring back."
Laying her hand on my shoulder, Zena nodded and said "Very well, Blackwolf. Good luck."
I led Lukos over to where Gabby was watching the men. Even though they were all sick and were of no threat at the moment, she still kept a wary eye on them. "Gabby, I need to go do something and I can't take Lukos with me. Would you take care of him for me while I'm gone?"
"Yeah, no problem. Are you sure?"
I nodded my head and then helped her onto his back. I then walked to his head and laid my forehead down on his. "I'll be back soon. Until then, Gabby will take care of you, and I want you to take care of her. Understand?" To my surprise, he nodded his head and once again I heard mumbling in my head. I was only able to make out "care" and "soon," but it was still progress. I gave him one final pat and then walked to where I had left my clothes and the axe. I watched the others ride away before entering the woods.
Trying to find a spot not inhabited by a sick man ended up being trickier than expected. Finally, I found a spot and quickly changed into my clothes. I breathed a sigh of relief after I slipped on my boots. Having to fight in a blanket simply wrapped around my body would have made things slightly more difficult. I placed Red's axe in my belt and then set off to find the trail.
Finding it was easier than I thought it would be. The smell of blood from the injured man was quite apparent to me. Having my senses so attuned to such things was still a little unnerving, but it made things so much simpler. I followed the trail deep into the forest. I briefly left the trail when a different scent caught my attention...the scent of horses. I easily found the small clearing where they were being kept. I quickly dispatched of the two men that had been left to guard them. I then selected the best five, not knowing how many I would actually need. The rest I untied and sent on their way. That would slow the men down considerably. I backtracked to the trail with my new possessions and continued on my way.
It wasn't until the morning light had already reached over the surrounding hills that I found the caravan. I was accustomed to slaughter and death, but the smell and sight that assailed me made me stagger. Nothing had been left alive, not even the animals. Feeling the horses discomfort about being around so much blood, I led them back into the forest and tied them to some trees. I then went back on the off chance there were any survivors.
I moved silently through the remains, checking every body I came to. It came as no surprise that all were dead. Coming to the head of the caravan, I noticed one body that was different from the others. He was most definitely a superior warrior, with armor I had never seen before. From the number of arrows and wounds on his body, it was obvious that this was the one the injured man had talked about, the demon warrior from Jappa. I was just reaching to pick up his weapons to study them when I heard movement. I quickly retreated to the trees to see who it was.
To my surprise, a woman wrapped in a blanket walked through the carnage. From the wounds on her body and the way she walked, I could tell this was the girl that Anakreon had wanted. The fact that she had survived this carnage surprised me. I watched as she stumbled over the well dressed man, the one that I assumed owned the caravan. Her response to seeing his body intrigued me. There had obviously been some involvement there. I also watched as she knelt next to her bodyguard and began pulling arrows from his body. It didn't take me long to realize what she was doing was something akin to preparation for a burial. Afterwards, she stayed by his body with a mixture of sadness, anger, and fear playing across her face.
Finally, I decided it was time for introductions. I exited the forest and walked slowly towards her. Seeing me coming, she jumped up and started to back away. "No, don't worry. I'm here to help you. My name is Blackwolf." She continued to back away, clutching the wrapped swords to her body. I stopped my approach, and to convince her I meant no harm, I drew the axe from my belt and slid it in her direction. I then sat down onto the bloodied ground. "I mean you no harm."
"To fight for what you believe in and to never give up is to have the heart of a wolf."
Edited by: blackwolf at: 6/2/03 3:18:36 pm
1itt1e dog
Registered Member
Posts: 3
(6/3/03 7:25 pm)
Reply Finding Evergreen
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(Awake! Good sleep. YAWN! Stretch...Mmmm scratch back...roll in dirt is good..patch of warm sun..oooo..woman!!..sniff..sniff..sniff..horse? horse track? ..sniff..sniffsniffsniff..got it..horse and woman..RUN, RUN FAST!! Road ends..bushes now.)
A village could be a good place, scraps and bones get thrown out in the garbage heap. Many pups on two legs run loose in a village and sometimes they are mean. They throw things, or kick. It is best to creep in and watch from the bushes first.
(Sniff..sniff..smell her..no horse now..womansmell strong!! MY woman..watch building from here..maybe run..wait..big two legs and pups)
Edited by: 1itt1e dog at: 6/3/03 7:27 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:17:50 GMT -6
EvergreenLM
Registered Member
Posts: 256
(6/4/03 8:19 pm)
Reply
A Little Traveling Music
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“Thank you, Vassaly…fo..for…everything. I do not know if I can ever repay your kindness. Just name it, and if it is in my power, it is yours.”
Swirling the gruel, the woman remained quiet before speaking again without looking up. “There is one thing I would ask…”
“Tell me and it will be done.” Evergreen reached out tipping the woman’s face so their eyes met. “Name it.”
Softly, and with great passion, Vassaly whispered…“Take me with you.”
Yah! Yah!
They had loaded the wagon together with the taller of the two not allowing the older but shorter woman do no more than throw in a few soft bundles. Vassaly climbed up into the wagon seat holding out her hand to pull Evergreen up and in seated beside her.
A painted pony was tethered to the back of the wagon. Vassaly had assured the still confused companion that she actually had ridden into town on the horse, and after the blow to the head, ten dinars had been paid, in Evergreen's behalf, from her savings for its care. Vassaly laughed adding that it did not cost that much to stay at the Inn. The horse would not be left behind and it too would be making the journey to Rome.
Vassaly had shared with her brother her heart's hidden desire that she would some day leave the village and see what lies beyond the crest of ridge where the sun meets the new day,and forever watched with a longing lost to the meaning of mere words.
In the still of a night spent talking by the fireside, the woman with the soft gray eyes began to unfold her story to Evergreen. She spoke, not with resentment, but fact, of being the responsible one, the caretaker, after her parents and brothers were killed by the warlord Borias. With controlled anger, her voice spoke of a dark warrior woman riding across the village spreading death in the night as the wind scatters seeds.
After a moment of gathering her thoughts, Vassaly quietly continued telling of how her life, and that of younger brother Cassias, was spared as they clung to one another hidden in an empty salt barrel. She told of how they stayed in their hiding place until daylight filtered through the slats, and the moaning of the injured and dying ceased.
Soft gray eyes shed no tears in the telling of her story as the time for crying was over. She began to describe what she saw as she found freedom from the saving barrel. But, as she hesitated, Evergreen whispered… “No more, Vassaly…no more” and gathered up the woman’s hand holding it in silence as they watched the shadows of the flames dance on the walls and hearing only the sounds of a log shifting as the fire crackled and popped.
A promise made was a promise kept. Days had passed and the time for healing wounds of the body, spirit, and mind were melded into a new friendship. Evergreen instructed Vassaly to pack what she needed for the journey ahead.
There wasn’t much. A few scrolls written by her father’s hand, a hairpin carved in the shape of a dove taken from her dying mother’s hair, and the sword. A wonderful… gleaming… short sword, hand forged by her older brother, Lyceus Marcus. LM was boldly carved into an intricate design that spanned the length of the blade.
“Here…this…this is for you.” Vassaly unsheathed the blade, carefully turning it as she handed the hilt to Evergreen.
“I cannot accept this…it’s not right…it belongs to your family...I…”
Vassaly placed a finger on lips stilling Evergreen’s words. “This is for my family…it is for you…take it.”
Yah, Yah
The wagon began to roll as Vassaly waved goodbye to her brother taking what she knew would be her last look at the Inn where she had spent most of her god granted life.
“Hey, you...You there…Amazon! Where are you going? You promised…remember…to slay HLAK!”
Evergreen looked questionably at the craggy face and wild eyes of an old man now slowly running alongside the wagon. Turning to Vassaly, she asked, “Do I know him?”
Gentle laughter accompanied a strong hand placed on Evergreen’s knee. “No…no you don’t. Poor old soul was found babbling in the woods after the raid. He has been of bent mind since that day.”
Reaching into the pocket of her blue dress, Vassaly drew out a silver coin and tossed it to the old man. “There old Grandfather, take it and tell Cassias you want his finest wine…”
And as the wagon wheels bounced in and out of the rutted road, two women began a journey with one leaving for a new life ahead, while the other also looked to the east searching for a life left behind.
"People can do what they please...so long as they don't do it in the street and frighten the horses..."
Edited by: EvergreenLM at: 6/5/03 5:17 am
phalon1
Registered Member
Posts: 1218
(6/5/03 10:44 pm)
Reply
A Fair Share
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Blackwolf sliced through the rope binding her, and Phalon stretched her arms, rubbing her wrists where the rope had cut into them. “I was just about free”, she said. “I almost had it myself, you know.”
“Yeah sure, Phalon. Whatever”, was Blackwolf’s reply, rolling her eyes.
Phalon responded with a curled lip and wrinkled nose in Blackwolf’s direction as Zena walked over. “Well, Phalon. It looks like our soup worked its magic.”
“Yes it did, didn’t it? I knew my cooking skills left a bit to be desired, but never before have I seen so many run from it, and in such a hurry”, she laughed.
They quickly started packing the horses and as Phalon stuffed the last of her scarves back into her saddlebag, she heard Blackwolf tell Zena that she was departing the group to check on something she’d overheard the thugs discussing. Zena asked if she wanted help and Blackwolf replied, “No. That's okay. You all go on ahead to Phalon's house. I can find my way easily enough.”
“Oh sure,” Phalon called over her shoulder, pulling the buckle tight on her bag. “Go ahead and leave me to find my way out of this blasted never-ending forest by myself”, she retorted in mock anger.
Phalon watched Blackwolf saunter off into the surrounding forest, throwing her hands in the air, and audibly mumbling about the ineptness of some people. “Blackwolf”, Phalon chuckled to herself, “someday you will learn to appreciate my quirky little ways and find as much humor in them as I.” She shook her head. “Perhaps.”
The others were ready to leave and Phalon glanced around the clearing to make sure nothing of importance was left behind. She spied a sword, quickly discarded by one of the men in his haste to make his retreat into the bushes. She picked it up, thinking it was better to have a stolen weapon, then none at all. She unsheathed it, and saw her reflection in its long, cold blade. A shudder overcame her and a barrage of images invaded her mind. Images of men battling to protect their villages, neighbors and families, men fighting for a cause in which they believed, and innocent men, guilty of nothing except being in the wrong place at the wrong time. All dead as the result of meeting the end of this sword.
“Phalon! How much time do we have??” Zena called as over Ergo’s saddled back.
Phalon swung herself up on Aronia’s back and glanced toward the deep woods where the groans of the men echoed in an otherwise peaceful evening. “Mmmmm. Two days. Maybe three.” She squinted toward Anakreon who had collapsed and was lying on a thorn bush. “Make that a week. Men just can’t handle a little pain.” “Though some”, she thought holstering the sword to her saddle, “bare more than their fair share.”
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:19:01 GMT -6
the chaotrix Registered Member Posts: 15 (6/5/03 11:09 pm) Reply Yoroshiku -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- To return to Jappa meant a grim but necessary conclusion to her life. Suddenly, in that moment, Sumire's world became very closed in and finite. She looked down at her hands as if seeing them for the first time. She saw the smooth terrain of the skin over knuckle, a vague blue trace of vein, the slim callous from playing the samisen on the edge of a finger. Under her fingers she felt the woven thread from the cloth wrapped around the swords. Everything had so much weight and definition now. This was to be alive. This is what she would give back for her shame. And in doing so, would it bring back Daisuke, or the merchant lord or the guards or the innocents? Would it have any effect on things she had done or not done? Would the reason she found herself here, this place, cease to be? No. If honorable death awaited her in Jappa, then let the time she had left here be spent attaining what Daisuke could not. "Then is not now. I have work to do." As if on cue someone approached from the woods, immediately bringing the rest of her world back into focus. Quickly she rose and backed away from the person who came forward. She was alarmed that she should be so taken with her thoughts that she did not see or hear this person until now. It was a woman dressed in black. She did not wear women's clothes, but that of a traveller or maybe even warrior? This woman moved with precise care. Her movements were.. more than traveller or warrior. Perhaps scout or maybe even hunter? She had come from the woods after all. The woman spoke as she walked forward. So startled and confused by the sudden appearance of this woman, Sumire's mind stumbled over the greek. It took her a moment to pull comprehension from the key words. "No... worry... help you... name..black wolf... " Sumire continued to back away. She unconsciously clutched the wrapped bundle to her chest as she tried to understand what or why this person was. Something bothered her at the edges of her mind. A woman. Dressed in Black. Walks from the forest. Named Black Wolf. Axe in her belt. Wants to Help. She comes form the Forest. Dressed in Black, with Death all around. Woman. Dressed like no woman. Moves like a hunter. From the Woods. Will Help. Axe. Death. Black. Golden eyes. Moves like...: Oukami! Sumire paled as the realization came to her. Oukami, Messenger of Mori-no-kami! These lands must have similar kami to those of Jappa. Of course --and why wouldn't they? When the Messenger stopped Sumire froze. She watched dumbly as Oukami removed the axe from her belt and slid it towards her. What did this mean? When she saw that Oukami intended to sit on the soiled earth, she quickly lowered herself, making sure her knees touched the ground first. She felt a flash of anger at herself for being caught so dumbfounded that she had not already knelt in the presence of the Messenger. It was unspeakable that she remain standing and in a higher position than a servant of the Forest-god. "I mean you no harm" spoke Oukami in a calming tone. Sumire set the bundled swords to the side and laying her hands, palm to earth, began to bow deeply, forehead nearly touching ground. She continued to bow several times while whispering "Oukami-sama" Blackwolf blinked as the Asian woman started bowing. She had expected the woman might flee, scream, or perhaps even attack her in grief or desperation. She was more than prepared for such a thing. But when this bedraggled woman dropped to her knees to intently bow to her, BlackWolf was taken completely by surprise. She put a hand out gesturing a halt. "No, no. Hey, you don't need to do that. Stop. Please you don't have t-." When the woman didn't stop, Blackwolf closed the distance enough to lightly lay a hand on her shoulder. "Will you just stop? It's- " Sumire froze, head still lowered. "Just don't, all right? I'm just like you. See?" Blackwolf inclined her head a little bit, not able to see the woman's face. Sumire tilted her face upwards just enough to hesitantly look up at Blackwolf through the messy curtain of black hair. It seemed as if she'd embarrassed Oukami, which in turn unsettled her further. Could she do nothing right? The tension that rose off this woman was palpable to Blackwolf's senses. She needed to calm her quickly but wasn't altogether sure how. "It's all right. Why don't we stand? Can you stand? Here." Standing slowly, she offered a gentle hand upon Sumire's elbow to ease her up. Blackwolf watched her warily a moment and then removed her hand. She explained patiently "There's no reason to bow. I am a woman just like you and I am here to help. You have to trust me on this. Why don't we start with your name?" So. Oukami took the shape of a woman and wanted Sumire to trust her. She offered help. But everyone was dead. Sumire was confused. But hers was not to question the Messenger of Mori-no-kami. If Mori-no-kami had sent his Messenger to help her, she would accept what decision, judgement or assistance the Forest-god sent. Sumire tried to pull the blanket around her more decently and quickly brushed back the damp wisps of hair from in front of her face. Feeling just a degree better she then bowed once more, this time more precise and not nearly as frantic. When she straightened she said greek words that had been eluding her while under duress. "Oukami-sama, I do not know why, but you honor me. I am Sumire.Yoroshiku....Pleased to meet you." -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what are those strange words in italics? Click here and scroll down to 'jappa-ness...' Edited by: the chaotrix at: 6/15/03 3:59 am |
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:20:46 GMT -6
BhenRudha
Registered Member
Posts: 229
(6/6/03 1:02 am)
Reply
From the Good Earth
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Clad only in the warm afternoon air and water that still clung to her skin, the Red Woman blinked in confusion, the girl’s question ringing in her ears. She had followed the forms of hospitality as she could, and the girl was angry . . .
Oh, what a strange world she had woken up in.
Still pondering how to answer, the girl clenched her jaw and muttered angrily, “What’s your name girl? Haven’t you got a name, girl? Go fetch this for me girl. Go sleep in the stables girl. Don’t be so shy, girl.” Her teeth ground together tightly as years of rage battered against the mask she fought so very hard to wear. “Everyone always asks. And I gave everyone the same answer . . . my parents didn’t see fit to give me one, so even the gods don’t know I exist.”
Gabby gasped and put a hand to her mouth, her eyes round with shock. Bhen Rudha put a hand out to steady the young Amazon, nodding to show that everything was well, then turned back to the girl. She understood the venom that poured out with the girl’s words, knew where it came from. Knew it better that she liked to admit.
Whether it was true that the girl’s parents never gave her a name, or it was stolen by time and slavery, Bhen Rudha did not know. It did not really matter. What was important was that the girl received a name now. There was power in a name . . . it was harder to stay a slave when one had a name.
“Dinnae be sae anamore. Dinnae be anaone’s girl anamore. Ye be yer own.” She drew herself tall, proud, as she remembered her mother being, full of light and the Goddess. The hollowness inside her gave away the lie, but she ignored it. There was need, and this was a gift she could give the girl, something so very important.
Two pairs of eyes watched her in stunned silence, and into it she said, “Be my firs’ true mornin’ o’ freedom I be takin’ tha name o’ Bhen Rudha. Dinna be tha same person as afore. Sae, onla tha sun, tha earth, an’ tha Lady need e’er know yer name . . . an’ tha’s who I be tellin’, aye?”
The girl swallowed, looked at Gabby, then back to the Red Woman. For her part, the young Amazon put a reassuring hand upon the girl’s shoulder, saying softly, “Red is right, you can have any name you want. She’s a priestess, she would know.”
Memories of another time, when she had looked up to her mother, saying those very same words, nearly brought a smile to her lips. It was indeed a very strange place she had woken up in. But perhaps . . . just perhaps, she could find a future in it after all.
“You can give me a name?” the girl asked suddenly, a hunger lighting the depths of her eyes.
A smile did lift her lips then and Bhen Rudha shook her head, “Nae. Ye be gi’en’ yerself a name. I onla cen be bearin’ witness ta it.”
Gabby breathed in some excitement, “Oh, you have to pick a good name!”
Nervous hands clutched at the blanket that wrapped her body, and the girl stood in thought for a long moment. She started to speak several times before she took a breath and said, “I don’t know what to pick. I can’t think of anything except this line I’ve heard, ‘Verily at the first Khaos came to be, but next wide-bosomed Gaia, the ever-sure foundations of all the deathless ones who hold the peaks of snowy Olympus.’ Why would that be stuck in my head?
“Maybe I could name myself Gaia?” she tilted her head, considering, as she answered her own question. “It always seemed that the earth was just there, and I could talk to it, and it would listen to me. It was never mean, and it didn’t ask me to do . . . things.” Green eyes lifted to search the Red Woman’s face, hope flickering to uncertain life. “Can I be Gaia?”
With some hesitation, Bhen Rudha shook her head, “Dinnae be callin’ yerself after a Goddess straigh’, aye?” She held up a finger when the girl started to turn away in disappointment. “Be takin’ a similar name. Nae tha Goddess Herself, be different enough ta be doin’ homage still.”
“So, if you can’t be the Earth Herself, then what about ‘from the Earth’?” Gabby asked, anxious to help.
The girl frowned, thinking. Then her face lit up and she said softly, “Kaia. Not the Earth Herself, but ‘from the Earth’.”
The young Amazon beamed, nodding with much enthusiasm, “Oh! I like that very much! Red, can she have that name?”
Smiling herself, Bhen Rudha nodded, “Oh aye. If’n ye be after tha’ name truly.”
“I want to be Kaia,” the girl said with conviction.
Nodding, the Red Woman stepped closer and placed her hands on the girl’s shoulder, and bowed her head a little. “Be in tha presence o’ tha Sun, tha Earth, an’ tha Lady, tha’ I be hearin’ this one’s name fer tha firs’ time. Ye be tellin’ me true, an’ ye ne’er be unknown ta tha gods again.”
The girl, Kaia, trembled as the knowledge of her new name sank into her. She swallowed against the emotions that rose so strongly within her and said, “Thank you, Bhen Rudha.”
“Be e’er welcome, Kaia,” a hand lifted to touch the torc around her neck as she continued, “Ye be lost in tha winter o’ yer life fer ta long. Be now yer spring, if’n ye be ha’in’ tha courage ta be takin’ it.”
Another swallow and a nod. “I do. I will, I promise.”
Tears gathered in the Red Woman’s eyes as she heard the echo of the Morrigu’s voice in her memory, “Then taday, ye be free.” She placed a kiss on Kaia’s brow and stepped back.
Kaia promptly turned to Gabby and held out her hand for an introduction. While the pair of girls giggled and exchanged names, Bhen Rudha collected her clothes and Evergreen’s sword. She felt suddenly sad and cast adrift . . . the healing of the bath had worn off, and in the effort to give Kaia her name, she had only reminded herself that the Goddess was not listening. She could not stay and ruin this moment
She paused a second to listen, a hint of a smile lifting the corners of her mouth. Gabby wanted to tell everyone the girl’s new name, and Kaia wanted the right to introduce herself. The good natured debate continued as the Red Woman, sodden clothes held in her arms, slipped back into the forest.
EvergreenLM
Registered Member
Posts: 257
(6/8/03 6:39 am)
Reply
The Company We Keep
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They rode in silence accompanied only by the monotonous sound of the wagon wheels crunching the earth and an occasional hawk screaming as it rode the air drafts up before sweeping swiftly down to snare unsuspecting prey.
The morning was cool and the cloth covering the contents in the back of the wagon flapped in the strong breeze.
Evergreen’s head bobbed as she dozed in and out of sleep while Vassaly hummed a soft melody. Each was lost in thoughts about where they were going, where they had been, and what changes lay ahead.
“Stop the wagon!” Evergreen shot up off the wooden wagon seat drawing the short sword as she flung back the cloth behind them.
“Whoa…whoa…” Vassaly halted the two horse team without any question as to why.
“Come out of there! Show yourself!” Evergreen shouted in a tone that left no doubt that the receiver of the command should comply- and quickly.
A whimpering came from the back of the wagon. With sword at the ready, Evergreen hopped over the back rest and began a reserved poking with the tip of the blade as she moved in the direction of the noise that had first signaled a warning.
“I’ll not ask again…come out if you value breathing in this fine morning air."
Slowly, now without a sound, the cloth began to move as a small shape traveled towards where Evergreen stood with sword raised with the intent to strike a mortal blow.
As the blade made its downward path, Vassaly shouted, “No!…don’t!…its just a dog…a little dog.”
Evergreen’s shoulders slumped as her hand dropped to her side. Kneeling down, she lifted back the cloth…“Ohhhhh!” was all that came out as she was knocked backwards from the weight of the small dog who now was standing over her wagging its stump for a tail and dribbling slobber from its pink tongue loosly hanging from it's mouth as it panted its greeting.
“Where did you come from?” Sitting back up from the surprise attack, the downed warrior ruffled the scruff of the dog’s neck.
Vassaly smiled watching the whole occurrence from her seat as she held the reins tight in her grip. “I saw that dog at daylight on the steps of the Inn. Cassias called it to the back and threw it some scraps. The poor thing looks like it has been traveling itself for a while.”
Looking into the golden eyes of the small dog, Evergreen caught a glint of recognition…something familiar…but quickly dismissed it. Her thoughts had become like intruding shadows as they slipped in and out taunting her with memories that hid in them.
“Well…” Evergreen said as she lifted the small dog into the wagon seat as she reclaimed her own traveling position…”I guess there is enough food for one more…”
Vassaly popped the reins as she made clicking noises signaling the horses it was time to move on. “As if you would toss the little one to the side of the road…”
Gray eyes laughed as they took a sideward glance seeing her two traveling companions. Let’s see now…two women, three horses, a wagon, and a dog…yes…just about right”… she thought resuming her singing as their journey continued.
"People can do what they please...so long as they don't do it in the street and frighten the horses..."
Edited by: EvergreenLM at: 6/8/03 7:20 am
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:22:43 GMT -6
1itt1e dog
Registered Member
Posts: 5
(6/8/03 6:18 pm)
Reply Evergreen Found
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(Run, RUN!! in between..around..low..stay low!! Under here..cool, dark..no legs..no hands can grab..wait...)
In front of the inn there was a rickity porch and wooden steps with a space underneath just big enough for a small creature. It was safe there but cold through the night and at day break the sun warming a portion of the step was inviting.
(Out? Yes, out..warm..stretch..Y..A..W..N! Oh! Big two legs!!!)
The gentle man offered a few scraps of meat in his outstretched hand. He gave off no badsmell - no fearsmell - no meansmell. The meat was gone without a sniff. More was given and eaten. Then movement at the inn door startled the small dog back into hiding and he was quickly forgotten in the saddness of parting from family.
(Sniff..sniffsniff..SNIFF!!! My woman!! There!! THERE!! Leaving??!! Wait..oh wait for me!! Now, now, now go NOW!)
One hop is all it takes for strong little legs to crest the back of a wagon. The blanket inside was warm and sheltering. (sigh..my woman..motion..like a horse..side to side..now s..l..e..e..p..)
(AWAKE!..not moving..oh, strong voice from my woman..bad dog..bad dog! W..h..i..n..e..)
“Come out of there! Show yourself!”
(Sorry..so sorry...bad,bad dog!! Coming!! Other woman..Nice woman..nice voice)
Evergreen’s shoulders slumped as her hand dropped to her side. Kneeling down, she lifted back the cloth…
(MY WOMAN!! It’s me, it’s me!! Lick! Gotta lick!! Face!! Good face!! Sniff the ears..sniff the eyes..see me?? see me?? Remember?? ?? ?? ?? ??)
Evergreen did not remember but she liked the little dog anyway and it felt safe between the two women. Little Dog studied the face he loved.
(sigh...not right..somehow..but good)
Cave Canem
Zena 1
Zena Scrolls Host
Posts: 658
(6/8/03 7:02 pm)
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Hard Road Ahead
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They rode hard through the early evening and put a good distance between them and the “hospital for sick ruffians” at the olive grove. Phalon still clutched the map but they all had only one thought, to escape first and set a course later. Zena was pleased to see that Gabby had evidently paid attention to the riding instructions that Evergreen had given her and was having no difficulty staying with the group even though the ride was not easy. They slowed as the moon began to rise in the dark sky and moved off into a soft green meadow that held a small stream and sheltering trees at the edges. Gabby pulled Lukos up beside Zena and smiled broadly at her mother.
“You like him don’t you?”
“He’s great Mom!! It feels so good to be riding!!”
“I guess it’s time we found you a suitable horse of your own.”
“REALLY?? Can we??”
“Of course we will. Just as soon as Evergreen catches up. I know she would want to be part of the scouting party!"
Gabby looked disappointed. “Oh. ok.”
“What’s the matter?” Zena slid off of Ergo and was leading her to water as she stroked her silky head. Gabby jumped down and gathered up Lukos’ reins.
“It’s just that it could be a long time before she comes back. You never know with her."
Zena nodded, “I know, it’s her way. But she always returns to her family.” She smiled and ruffled Gabby’s hair but her smile was only on her lips and not in her heart.
They tethered the horses, built a fire and laid out their bedrolls in a circle near the warmth of the fire ring. The ride had been exhausting and no one even thought of an evening meal except for Zena. Once they had settled in with Xendra on the first watch Zena called out to the sleepy sisters, “So, what do you think? Anyone for leftover stew??” She ducked as a shower of sticks and small pebbles came from all directions, and in the semi-darkness she heard muffled laughter. Stretching out on her back she saw the stars blinking at her from far away in another world. “This is a good life. It has been a good life. But for how long? Can we just travel around Greece forever with no home? Gabby should study more - philosophy - literature - it’s the Amazon way. I owe that to her. And where IS Evergreen? She always returns to her family but what is taking her so long to catch up??” Zena sighed and counted stars until she grew sleepy. Her breathing slowed and then she stepped over a threshold and entered a familiar land.
He sat on the steps, just as she had left him, and he turned as she approached.
“Have you forgotten your promise? I cannot leave until you have done what you promised me you would. You gave your word!” He held his hand toward her and his eyes were filled with saddness in the last golden light of the day.
She sat up with a start, the daylight gone as the last embers died in the fire ring quenching their light, and the darkness creeping in on her soul.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:24:10 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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(6/9/03 4:06 am)
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The Value of Secrets
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The air was cool across her skin as she moved through the forest back to where the others were setting up camp. She was so lost in her thoughts that she nearly bumped into Puella as she crossed the clearing to where her boots still sat.
“Oh . . . uh, hi Red,” the Amazon said, startled for some reason.
“Bandiá duit, Puella,” she replied, trying to put anything other than grief on her face. She used the moment it took to put down Evergreen’s sword to firmly school her expression.
“Ah, do you need to borrow some clothes? Though I don’t think anyone’s tall enough to loan you a pair of pants.”
“I be fine, be thankin’ ye,” Bhen Rudha said as she lay her clothes out flat on the grass to dry.
“But you’re naked.”
That actually brought out a chuckle. “Aye, tis so. Bu’ tha sun be warm, tha air cool . . . dinnae be augh’ ta be worryin’ abou’.” She thought on it a moment and realized that being without clothes had never been something to feel self conscious about. As a child she had worn clothes mostly because it had been too cold to go without. Though there were always a few days in the summer when one could go play in the small lake that was part of her father’s lands. As one initiated to the Morrigu at the Sanctuary, there had been many occasions where the hindrance of clothing had to be left behind. And as a slave, he had mostly kept her naked, so perhaps a part of her had gotten used to it. She shrugged and tried to smile for Puella.
While Bhen Rudha waited for an answer from the Amazon, the woman’s scrutiny brought back the ache that lay beneath the lightening shaped scar that sat above her heart. It was obvious that something about the mark bothered Puella greatly, perhaps more than was rational. So covering it would probably be a prudent thing. She did not feel she could answer questions about it honestly.
“Then how ‘bout a blanket to cover up with till your clothes dry?” Puella asked after a moment.
Hoping that she did not cause too many questions with her change of mind, the Red Woman said, “Aye, be thinkin’ ye be a’righ’ abou’ tha’.”
With a nod, the Amazon went to her things and picked up a blanket. In a moment she returned and held it out for Bhen Rudha to take, saying, “Here you go, glad I had the extra to lend you.”
She offered her gratitude while taking the material and wrapping it around her middle, “Go raibh maith, agat.” The Gaeilge slipped from her out of habit.
Remembering the evening before, Puella smiled, “You’re welcome. Now, if you’ll excuse me, seeing you clean is making me very aware that I’m not. Need to see if Zena has any of that soap left.” And with a chuckle, the Amazon went on her way.
Apparently the others had the same idea, so when Gabby and Kaia came back from their bath, Zena and Puella took a turn. Figuring that they would be staying the night in this place, Bhen Rudha decided to lay in the grass and try to nap before dinner.
The grass was cool velvet beneath her, and she focused on that, instead of the throbbing in her chest. She breathed deeply, trying to relax muscles that seemed to want to stay tense. After a few minutes, the sun, the soft grass and the teasing breeze that played across her arms and legs lulled her into sleep.
Laughter brought her awake an hour or so later. She blinked, trying to gather some sense from the rapidly vanishing images that had scattered themselves across her dreaming. As her disorientation faded, she realized that the others were dancing around the fire, wrapped in blankets of their own, hair bound up in brightly colored scarves.
Standing to stretch the heaviness out of her muscles, Bhen Rudha felt a stab of jealousy. She felt outside the circle again, though the newcomers laughed and danced just the same. Zena caught her eye and reached to grab her hand. Surprised at the invitation, embarrassed by her earlier ill thoughts, it took several moments for her feet to find the rhythm.
Memories of other nights, other fires, with the Moon bright and full over their heads surged within the Red Woman, and she felt a true smile tug at the corners of her mouth. Her light mood was short lived, however, when she caught a glimpse of metal at the edge of the olive grove. Tension returned to her limbs, halting all notion of dancing.
“What be these strangely dressed ones, M’Lord?” one of the men asked.
With a snarl, the one who seemed to be the leader answered, “Fool. These be from Arabia. See their headdresses and robes? They’ll fetch a pretty dinar at the slave market.”
Bhen Rudha flushed with rage when she heard what the man intended and her fingers curled around Zena’s, as if to make a fist. Her mind reached out of new habit to the ravens that should have been nearby, and she silently cursed herself and the silence that was her response. Uncertain what she should do, she remained in place when Zena squeezed her hand and glanced at her.
The men had come out of the trees to ring the group of women, eyes bright with lust and lips curled in a leer. A tremble passed through the Red Woman’s frame as she itched to tear them apart with her bare hands. Before the tableau could stretch to the breaking point, Zena dropped her hand, bowed low, then threw herself at the feet of the leader.
It took a great deal of self control to not break the man’s neck when he ripped the scarf from the Amazon’s head and curled his fingers into her black hair. “Don’t suppose to understand Greek, do you? Stupid woman. Why did you bow to that one?” He glanced at Bhen Rudha, and she imagined his head sitting on the end of a spear, raised in homage to Macha. She felt her lip curl, and fought to keep her expression neutral.
“N . . . n . . . noble sir. Only I speak of your sound. No . . . no, your language. I fear you! Do not hurt . . . please! We are court of most high lady of King of Arabia. Come to see your famous one who talks of future at Delphi. This is she who is queen.” Zena gestured back before continuing. “Others not know to speak. Only I. We meet King in two day at Delphi.”
Bhen Rudha caught Blackwolf’s glance from the corner of her eye, saw the other woman fall into the ruse and tried to set her features into uncomprehending defiance. When the man threw Zena to the ground, thunder pounded in her ears, and she missed the rest of the conversation. Perhaps it was for the best, as her control was held by tenuous fingers of will.
In grim silence she was sat and bound, so that she could watch the goings on around the fire. Apparently, Zena meant to poison the men, using Phalon’s knowledge of herbs. Good, let them suffer, they would be easier to . . . clean up after, once they were free.
One of the men stared at her, the heat of her gaze made him shiver and look toward the dinner that was being prepared. She would bide her time and keep their secret, till an opening came.
Then she would show them what it meant to touch a Bandroi an Cogadh . . .
Edited by: BhenRudha at: 6/10/03 1:41 am
gabbin
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(6/9/03 8:19 am)
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In EG's town
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Frieda Rose laughed, for when she threw open the shudders of the windows, the cool morning air rushed into her face, like a soft slap. Sounds rose from the town below and descended from the birds above. Bustling early morning sounds blended with the stirring aroma from foods; spanokopita baking, the thick smell of honey-covered baklava, smoke from the blacksmith's fire. Leaning out further from the waist and taking in more to her senses breathing deeply she smiled. But it was time to start her duties. She turned her attention away from the window, offering up the world's delights, and to her work, smoothing lovingly, with her small white hand, the wool/cotton blend, feeling rough and soft nape textures interwoven with a spirit of strength, a life of its own seemed to eminate from the baby soft flannel. Gathering her dress under her she sat on the small round stool and began, kaching, katching, the loom and she became one, alive, working effortlessly in an endless pattern of weaving the storyline of Clans through colors .....
Edited by: gabbin at: 6/9/03 7:48 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:26:25 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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(6/11/03 3:48 am)
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In the Darkness
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((Author's Note: There's a tiny bit of violence in this one. So if that bothers you, you might want to skim over this post. In any case, happy reading, BR))
The bandit leader flicked his glance at Bhen Rudha again, blowing a kiss to the hard eyed “Queen of the Arabians”. She watched as he lounged in his camp chair, relishing his full, warm belly, and the “fun” Zena had promised would come later. In her peripheral vision she studied how the men looked and acted towards the other women, marking the ones who would be brought down like the animals they were. Imagining how she would succeed at this kept her expression neutral and helped to pass the time while the poison worked its magic.
The Red Woman could not help the smile that lifted her lips as the first men staggered into the trees, clutching at their stomachs and groaning. Good . . . Phalon had made it painful. She kept her gaze locked on the leader, watching for realization to strike him. When it did, her expression turned nothing short of gleeful.
While waiting for her chance to move, the chill kiss of steel slid along her wrist, severing the ropes that bound her. A hand, Blackwolf’s hand she recognized, squeezed her wrist in a silent warning to stay “bound”. Their time was coming soon. She flashed her fingers in the Ogham sigil for thanks, not knowing if the other woman would understand the gesture, or even see it in the darkness.
Twisting her hands to return feeling to her fingers, she watched as Zena was flung nearly into the fire, and could remain still no longer. Unfolding to her feet, she moved with purpose to stand between the enraged man and the Amazon that was cowering at his feet. Something in her amber-green eyes kept him from immediately hitting her. He merely brandished the empty bowl in her face.
“Get down, your Arabianess, or I will break your teeth with this bowl when I am done with her. Your cook lies. My men and I have heartier bellies than to be cowed by your exotic foods. She poisoned us, and she will die. For you to stand in the way of her punishment must mean you intended it as well . . . If this is the case my, Arab bitc–“
“M’Lord!”
The appearance of another bandit stopped the man’s ranting, and finally drew his attention away. She ignored the injured man and spared a glance to the other women. Most of them moved as if they were easing their hands out of ropes that had been cut. Soon . . . soon . . .
Zena gathered herself to her knees, no longer looking like the timid handmaiden. The Amazon’s arms and legs were tense, as if she were waiting for her chance to spring into action. Bhen Rudha felt the coming moment like a looming cliff and began counting heartbeats.
“Keep your blades on them, till I come back to finish this,” the bandit leader said, pushing the injured man before him into the trees. The conversation was just out of earshot, but they all heard the cursing and heavy stumbling as the leader finally succumbed to Phalon’s poison.
Zena’s attention turned to the others, giving Bhen Rudha the opening she needed. Shaking the rope from her wrists, she slipped across the clearing and into the dark cloak of the trees. A branch snagged on the blanket that was still wrapped around her, so she took it off. Night air glided against her skin, and she bared her teeth in a feral grin . . . the hunt was on.
She blinked and the darkness became bright in shades of crimson, revealing the huddled forms of the bandits. Some remained squatting upright, others had given into the pain and had rolled over on their sides, coiled around themselves in agony.
One bandit looked up at her, eyes widening in fear. He had been the one leering particularly at Kaia. She decided that he would never get the chance to leer at a young woman again. While she stalked toward him, he babbled half-prayers to his mother and the gods. He tried to stand and run, but succeeded in only tripping over his pants. Grabbing the man by the collar, Bhen Rudha hauled him up and snaked an arm under his chin. With fingers clawing at her arm, she tightened her grip and with a twist snapped the bandit’s neck.
As the dead weight slumped to the ground, she grabbed his sword. The blade was nicked and in bad shape, but did the job she asked of it. Soon her trophy stood quivering in the ground, blank eyes staring up into the heavens and jaw slack in a permanent scream. She offered up a silent prayer to the Goddess, hoping the acorn would make Her listen. There was a hesitant quality to the silence that echoed in response. She took it as a sign, and looked for her next target.
While she had been busy with the man that had marked Kaia, the bandit leader had learned what had happened to the other half of his company. Raised voices caught her attention and she moved silently closer so she could hear.
“Th . . . th . . . others, Lord?” squeaked the messenger.
“Falkan, the merchant Lord . . .?” the bandit leader said, in a sudden soft, deadly voice.
Bhen Rudha missed the messenger’s response as the name Falkan triggered a barrage of memories. The man had always laughed, as if he knew some great joke that no one else did. When she had been offered to him as a guest gift, he had always treated her with some tenderness. It had made it hard to hate him completely.
Her reverie was snapped by the sound of a fist striking bone with a jarring crunch. Then the bandit was shouting, “IDIOT DOG! SHE WAS THE TREASURE! We agreed that Dekeon would keep the Merchant Lord’s gold, but THE GIRL WAS MINE!”
She did not know who this girl was, but she was glad that she had managed to escape the clutches of men like this. She was glad also of the fact that she was here to stop a man who would take a girl and keep her . . . like treasure.
A short distance away, the bandit leader was taking his anger out on the hapless messenger, punctuating his words with a blow from a hammer-like fist. The injured man was dead after the first, and the Red Woman used the noise to cover her steps as she stalked close.
The last words the bandit leader had planned to utter were cut off by his stomach choosing that moment to make clear its dissatisfaction with dinner. His groan of pain with the signal the Amazon had been waiting for.
From the cleaning, she heard Zena shout, “NOW!” and the band of women explode into action. Using the noise as a cover, she grabbed the bandit in a wrestling hold, bending him forward. He struggled against her, twisting around to see this new foe.
“You!” he snarled, looking into her crimson eyes with undisguised hatred. “I’ll be damned to Tartarus if I’m going to be defeated by a scrawny, naked, crazy . . .”
Bhen Rudha slid back around the bandit, kicking the backs of his knees, and followed him to the ground. He continued to strain against her hold, lifting his hands to fend her off. Leaning back out of his reach, she grabbed the elbow of his left arm and shoved it down behind his head. The shoulder gave easily under the pressure, snapping loudly. The bandit thrashed as the pain hit him, and a lucky fist connected with the side of her head. In the moment she saw nothing but white, he lurched to his feet and stumbled away.
His escape was short lived, however, as he made for the first bush in his path, unaware that it was protected by thorns. His howl of pain brought laughter from the group of women as they gathered their things and saddled up. For now, the Red Woman decided that she did not want an audience for this, so she left the man to his thorn bush and watched the women leave from the cover of the trees. She saw Blackwolf talk to Zena before handing her horse over to Gabby and then disappear into the forest in the direction the messenger had come from.
Once the last horse had disappeared into the darkness, Bhen Rudha moved to where the bandit lay. With her right hand, she grabbed him by the hair and hauled him roughly upright. He snarled incoherently, making a wild swing at her middle with his good arm. She grabbed his wrist easily with her left hand, pulled him toward her then shoved the heel of her right hand into his shoulder. The joint came apart with a loud snap.
He fell to his knees with a scream, both arms now hanging useless at his sides. Looking back up at her, he asked, “Why?”
“I be wantin’ ye helpless a’fore a stronger foe. Be feelin’ like all tha girls ye be ha’vin’ yer way with, aye?” she answered slowly, enunciating as clearly as she could, so he would understand.
His eyes widened with fear. “No . . . don’t . . .” he managed to plead before she stepped behind him and curled a strong hand around his throat. Part of her was glad he had finally become afraid. It made her vengeance that much sweeter.
Forcing his head back, she leaned close to whisper, “An’ were ye after listenin’ ta tha girls’ pleas? Dae ye be thinkin’ ta be lettin’ them be? O’ course nae.” She laced her fingers under his chin, and placed a bracing foot just above his tail bone, pulling tightly. The bandit leader’s body thrummed with tension, like a drawn bow. He groaned a final time, against the pain, against the death he knew waited for him, and stopped moving as his back crushed itself under the pressure of the Red Woman’s grip.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:28:31 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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(6/11/03 3:48 am)
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In the Darkness (continued)
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((Author's Note: There's a tiny bit of violence in this one. So if that bothers you, you might want to skim over this post. In any case, happy reading, BR))
Tears leaked from his eyes, desperation twisting his features. He could only wait, helpless till she chose to make an end to him. “What . . . are . . . you?” he whispered through clenched teeth.
She grinned and answered, “I be díbheirg . . . vengence.” Watching the understanding dawn upon him, Bhen Rudha then said, “I dinnae be thinkin’ o’ lettin’ ye be either. Slán agat.” Then she broke his neck.
He was the leader, so his sword was at least well sharpened, and cut through his neck with some ease. Once the head was severed, she stabbed the sword through his body, into the ground, and forced the head upon the pommel. Another acorn in a growing crop.
Satisfied that her larger prey had been brought to ground, she grinned and moved off into the night, searching for the smaller prey that remained.
* * *
Only a handful of the bandits remained to greet the dawn. Some had escaped into the night, while others were inexplicably passed over by whatever it was that stalked in the darkness. After finding each other, they limped away, broken, leaderless, silent. Once they reached their encampment, they gathered what things they owned and left, needing to leave the place and the night behind.
gabbyfan4ever
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(6/13/03 8:26 pm)
Reply Nowhere to go
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Gabby looked around helplessly at the group of men surrounding them. There were too many. She stood next to Kaia near the outer edge of the group of women. They had just come back from a bath, but the way the men stared at her made Gabby feel like she needed another one to get clean. At the mention of slave traders, she felt her stomach drop. The horrible image of what the rest of her life would be like if that happened filled her mind. She stood there as still as possible, knowing that drawing unnecessary attention to herself would get her killed, or worse, in this situation. But it was all Gabby could do not to throw all this logic out the window when she saw Zena get thrown around by their leader. There were no weapons for the women, but Gabby’s mother was smart. She wouldn’t let herself get handled that way unless she had an ultimate plan, and then the leader of the bandits would see what a mistake he had made. That thought was the only thing that kept the young girl together. They had all been so happy just moments before. Everyone was dancing, even Red started to join in. It didn’t seem fair how quickly things change for the worse.
Gabby’s eyes watered as one of the men bound her hands behind her back and roughly sat her down with the other women. She scooted closer to Phalon for comfort, and was reassured at seeing Kaia sitting next to Red. Gabby knew if anyone tried to hurt Kaia they would have to go through Red first, and they would get a lot more than they could handle in the process. It became apparent that Zena was going to try and poison the bandits, and Gabby did her part by loosening her bonds enough to get out when the time came. She prayed it was soon. Eventually the men started feeling the effects of whatever was in the “soup”, and it seemed all at once that things started breaking down. The leader nearly threw Zena into the fire, and in a heartbeat Red was staring him right in the face. Everything stood balancing on a razors edge ready to fall either way, when the makeshift tribe sprang into action.
When the women started to leave about half of the bandits were groaning in the bushes at the effects of the “soup”, and the other half were lying in the bushes groaning at the effects of the women’s anger. On the way out Blackwolf came up to Gabby leading Lukos behind her. The girl was shocked when she heard the woman ask her to take care of Lukos while she went away for a while. What a great responsibility, thought the girl. “Yeah no problem. Are you sure?”, Gabby asked. She was doing her best to sound as competent as possible. After a reassuring nod from Blackwolf, she flashed a huge smile at the woman. Gabby loved animals as much as anything else in the world.
This same smile came out later as she rode Lukos up beside Zena. On the hard paced ride Gabby used everything that Evergreen had taught her about riding. The horse made it easier, and the girl knew Lukos wouldn’t let her fall. Gabby could barely contain her excitement when Zena said it was time she got a horse of her own. For as long as she could remember Gabby had wanted an animal to call her own. And to have it be a horse all to herself was more than she could ever hope for. “Of course we will. Just as soon as Evergreen catches up. I know she would want to be part of the scouting party!”, Zena said.
Disappointment flashed on the girl’s face. Evergreen had gone off before they had left for Phalon’s home. Only part of the disappointment that touched her face was about her prospective horse. Most of the sadness was missing Evergreen. She liked having her around. She liked the good-natured teasing she got from the Amazon. She wanted her Aunt back. “It’s just that it could be a long time before she comes back. You never know with her.” Gabby said sullenly. A smile and a ruffle of the young girl’s hair made her perk back up a little, and Gabby made a point to give her mom a hug before she went to give Lukos a drink. As she laid down for bed that night, she chuckled at Zena’s suggestion they have some leftover soup. They were ok now and Evergreen would be back soon, she reassured herself as she went to sleep.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 22:29:52 GMT -6
the chaotrix Registered Member Posts: 21 (6/14/03 12:52 pm) Reply Precious Things (part I) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- “Well, Sumire, I am glad I found you. Are you all right?” At the question Sumire noticed Oukami’s gaze flick to the cut over her eye, and the various bruises that the thin blanket couldn’t cover. “Are you hurt?” The question in Oukami’s eyes held more weight than her actual words. With barely a shrug Sumire turned away muttering softly “Iie, It is nothing. ” She went on, moving back towards the jagged line of carts that was the caravan. She furiously put together sentences in Greek before she spoke them out loud. “Oukami-sama must excuse my state. It is unforgivable. If you permit me a moment I will make amends. I think that I can find some tea to brew and maybe something to offer you to eat.” Blackwolf shook her head incredulously as the woman moved away from her and continued talking nonchalantly. The woman was definitely effected by the attack. Probably in shock. As Sumire spoke calmly her eyes quickly scanned the carts she passed for some article of clothing more presentable than a blanket. “If I can find it, I have this refreshing ginger tea from the hills near–“ Oukami had taken her arm to stop and turn her. “Sumire. I want you to listen to me. Are you listening? Good” Blackwolf continued once the woman nodded. “First: Call me Blackwolf, not.. this..Ohkamasima. And Second: we are not going to worry about me or Ohkameesama or anybody else.” Blackwolf gave a nod indicating the dead surrounding them. “Only you. We are going to make sure you are well and safe and ready to travel. Because we are leaving this place. We are going to find your clothes, gather what you can and we are leaving. Do you understand?” Sumire again found herself dumbfounded at the hint of frustration in Oukami’s voice. She fought against the rising feeling of desperation by trying to ask questions, but the words were being difficult. Did she do something else wrong? Why could she not call the Messenger by name? Where was she taking her? “Doko ni-..?” She blinked and looked around her, shaking her head. “But Okam- Eh- Brakuufu-sama” catching Oukami’s look she quickly corrected herself “Anou...Lady Blakoofu. I- To go, I cannot.” watching Oukami’s eyes narrow at what must be her maddening defiance she stammered out “I- Daisuke, my.. My Lord-” She turned a little to point at the fallen warrior “Daisuke, leaving -to leave, is to- is not- I cannot. His land this is- is not- is-” She closed her eyes briefly, exhaled slowly and concentrated. She spoke once again when the words were ready to fall in the right places. “This-This is not his land. I cannot leave him or or or put him in it. I must free him, so his.. .his kami can return to home, to Jappa.” She looked at Oukami, her eyebrows lifting a degree in plea. Surely Oukami would understand this. Blackwolf glanced at the dead man, nodded and let out a breath. She could not figure if the woman acted this way for being half-mad from her ordeal or simply a reaction to her presence, or rather whatever influence this Oukamisama had. But, this she understood: Rites of death and passage. She had not known what Sumire’s ritual was when she interrupted but now she was quite sure. This Daisuke was to be cremated. Knowing the assault it would be on her senses, she inwardly cringed, but she would not turn away from this. It was necessary. If she helped with that, perhaps Sumire would be better able to move on. And if Sumire still proved to be reluctant she might just use the role of Oukamisama if it would help expedite matters. Just until they were clear of trouble, of course. “Yes, we will send him home. But you must agree to these conditions. First, we cannot do it here. ” Blackwolf pointed at the canopy of leaves overhead. “It is too close to the trees. I will help you, we will set him over there” She then pointed to the break of light beyond the trees a bit. “Give him daylight to see by and a clear sky to fly home by, yes?” Sumire eyes brightened as she nodded. Messenger Oukami had understood, and so now she must abide by Oukami’s wishes. “Ah. Hai. Yes! Doumo Arigatou gozai-!“ Blackwolf held her by the shoulders before she could bow again. “And the other thing is; after we send your Lord, you will gather what you can and come with me. It is my calling to protect you, and I know other people who will keep you safe.” Glancing first at what remained of the caravan, and then turning her intent amber gaze on Sumire, Blackwolf spoke of what the survivor would not. “So it will never happen to you again.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what are those strange words in italics? Click here and scroll down to 'jappa-ness...' Edited by: the chaotrix at: 6/15/03 4:01 am |
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:20:27 GMT -6
the chaotrix Registered Member Posts: 23 (6/14/03 3:36 pm) Reply Precious Things (part II) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Sumire blinked several times. She was both moved and bit bewildered. Oukami was pledging to protect her. Her. This she couldn’t understand. She wanted to... but it seemed just as foreign as many things in this land were. Oukami was directing her attention at Sumire and her condition rather than the desecrated woods around them. She saw Oukami’s distaste when looking upon the strewn death and destruction, but Oukami seemed more concerned with her. She was uncomfortable with this. What did it mean? “Let’s find you some clothes.” Blackwolf said as she scanned the wagons, wondering which would be the best place to start. Sumire nodded and headed purposefully down the column. Knowing that she would need clothes better suited for open travel, she passed her wagon by and found the cart that carried some of Daisuke’s belongings. Unlike her clothing which tended to be darker shades but on the colorful side, Daisuke’s clothing was somber and nearly monochrome. She found a short white summer kimono, over which she wore dark grey hakama pants. The clothes were a little long on her, but easily mended once she got the chance. For now, she used a sash to quickly cross over her shoulders and tie back the kimono sleeves so they were out of the way. Returning to her cart, she found a brush and pins to put up her hair. She hoped that she looked more like a maiko to Oukami, than a woman in man’s clothing. She stole glances at Oukami, to see her reaction. Oukami didn’t seem to be offended at what she wore. Perhaps Oukami thought she was an attendant girl after all. Sumire and Blackwolf built Daisuke’s pyre in the clearing and set him upon it. Sumire set a torch to the kindling and stepped back, watching the slow blossom of flame start to take. Blackwolf who was a pace behind her, considered a moment and asked quietly “That other man. The well dressed one. What was he to you?” Sumire turned her head only a degree at the question before looking back at the flames. It was a while before she spoke. “He was a man who treated me kindly -compared to others. I hated that he owned me. But, for all that, he felt for me and showed it. I think that maybe... ” Sumire shook her head, ending the sentence. After a pause she turned back to ask a question “What is the custom of respect for the dead here, Lady Blakwoof?” “I think burial. Returning them to the earth is most common.” replied Blackwolf. Sumire turned to watch the flames once again. Returning. Sumire closed her eyes as she considered the word. With luck Daisuke would return to Jappa soon. With a terrible ache she missed Jappa. However, if she were to return... She lowered her head and sighed. She felt so tired. Blackwolf watched some weight settle on the woman and put a gentle hand on her shoulder. “If you will permit me. I will bury him. You can stay here with your friend. I will bring some horses and we will leave when you are ready.” Sumire raised a hand to cover her eyes and nodded. Oukami was being so kind to her. It was almost unbearable. Having been given the permission, Blackwolf faded from the clearing, and gratefully so. Even if the pyre had just started, the smell of burning hair and leather armor was starting to become overwhelming to her senses. Soon after she stepped into the shadowed wood, Blackwolf heard the haunting sound of a flute coming from the clearing. The music was so mournful that she felt a need to throw back her head and howl out the pain. Instead, she grit her teeth and went on with her task. Blackwolf was glad to find a broken handled shovel amid the ruins. She didn’t fancy doing this with only some notched sword. As it was, with a broken tool it was hard work but she bent to it. The sooner done, the sooner she could get the horses and return for Sumire. It didn’t take Blackwolf long to bring the horses. She had stopped to let them water at the stream, and was washing her face and hands to get some of the smell of death clear when she started to hear something. She cast out her senses and easily picked up voices and shouting... off towards the caravan. With a growl she took off in a sprint, leaving the horses where they were. As she neared the altercation her senses told her this wasn’t a fight yet, but merely the barking before the biting. Feeling that there was no need to run headlong into it yet, she skirted into the trees to observe what exactly the problem was. Sumire stood facing the others, hands clenched at her side. She said nothing but glared at those across from her in righteous fury. A total of five. And not bandits by the look or smell of them. They smelled of fear and suspicion. Sumire smelled of anger. “Go back to where you came from! You are nothing but trouble! You’ve brought nothing but death!” One or two would edge towards her carefully, as if their anger had not yet conquered their mistrust or fear of her. As they moved forward Sumire receded, but not any more than their advance. They would then would fade back to where the others were and join in the looting for a bit. The rest were going through the wagon, turning it inside out. They kept up with their catcalls but didn’t seem too keen on rushing or attacking her. It told Blackwolf all she needed to know. “That is ENOUGH!” she stepped from the trees directly in between the looters and Sumire. They were startled and stumbled back, a couple dropping items from their armfuls of goods. Sumire had not moved or reacted whatsoever. She continued to glare at the robbers. “Witch! Look how she calls Demons!” screamed one of the women. She then threw something at them. “Demon!” joined another and also threw something taken from the wagon. The projectiles were far off their mark. But it still angered Blackwolf, so she growled low and pulled the axe from her belt. “Oh, I’ll give you a demon, alright.” She muttered under her breath. She took a step towards them but was stopped by Sumire’s hand on her wrist. “Oukami-sama. Please. Do not hurt them. They are from the caravan.. I knew them... I- I thought I knew them..” Blackwolf flicked a glance over her shoulder at Sumire and though the woman’s eyes were downcast, her expression was of hurt anger and confusion. “I see...” Blackwolf gently pulled her arm from Sumire’s grasp “This wont take long then.” She began to advance on the others. “Oukami-!” Sumire gasped when she saw the dangerous look in the Messenger’s eye. She knew there was nothing she could do to do stop Oukami. “So.. You’ve come back like carrion crow, eh? I’m sorry, but this is one carcass you wont pick off of. ” Blackwolf said through a growling voice as she stalked towards them. At first they were stunned and then began moving away from her. “Hasn’t there been enough chaos? Haven’t you got better lives than this to recover? Come, If you want to act like brigands then I will treat you like them!” Blackwolf threw back her head and gave a war-howl. Then, quickly breaking into a loping gait, axe in hand she started the predators unhurried chase. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what are those strange words in italics? Click here and scroll down to 'jappa-ness...' Edited by: the chaotrix at: 6/15/03 3:51 am |
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:22:26 GMT -6
the chaotrix Registered Member Posts: 24 (6/14/03 3:46 pm) Reply Precious Things (part III) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As Blackwolf had predicted, the looters who had been backpedaling and stammering up until then, broke and ran with frightened yelps. She imagined they only needed tails tucked between their legs to complete the image. Surprisingly enough, they managed to keep a good deal of their take in their retreat. She stopped and stood still, head tilted a bit as she listened to their flight through the woods. If they decided to return it would not be for a long while. Returning, she found Sumire staring at her in awe. Blackwolf shrugged and offered an explanation. “Pack politics.” At Sumire’s bewildered look she offered more. “If everyone knows their place, no one gets hurt.” Once hearing that Sumire eyebrows shot up in understanding and she nodded once sharply. “Hai. Sou ne. Its true.” Still, Sumire glanced toward where they disappeared. Blackwolf had to chuckle and shook her head. “They’re gone. They won’t bother you again. I’ll leave you to gather what things you have. The horses are close by. I’m bringing them over and then we’ll be on our way. All right?” Seeing Sumire nod, Blackwolf headed back toward the creek. Once Oukami had left, Sumire went to the cart they had been looting. What they didn’t take they had thrown onto the ground or broken. Her combs, hair adornments and make up, her favorite silks all tossed and trampled in the mud. Most of it could not be recovered. She looked on at the scattered things in stoic silence. Gradually she began to go through the mess to see what she could save. While putting aside some things she came across her samisen partially covered by a torn kimono. Hope and fear tightened her heart at the same time. When she uncovered it she saw that it was broken. Dropping to her knees with a soft moan, she gently lifted the instrument. Its neck was broken and the strings had been severed. She brought the pieces to her chest and doubled over. Fighting through a couple of shudders to keep herself in check, she finally broke and wept. She hated the hot tears that fell. They were weakness. They were shame. She hated that Oukami would see her like this. She tried to stop but she could not. The more she tried the more they demanded to be shed. She hated the people that had taken this simple joy from her. She hated that Daisuke left her alone in a place where common people would turn on each other like rats. But this was what it was to continue living wasn’t it? Blackwolf found the horses grazing at the edge of the creek and gathered them without incident. As she walked the water’s edge she caught sight of something bright hanging from some branches that overhung a bend in the flowing water. Immediately she knew it to be a garment that Sumire would wear. That is why she was in a blanket until recently, she had brought this robe out to wash and hang dry. A branch had been threaded through the draping sleeves so that it hung ‘open-armed’ to dry. It gently swayed as a breeze caressed it. The sleeves had slashes that went through, and the front had a slash that went mid section to the hem. Even though the garment bore scars of battle, it still retained a regal beauty. Near the shoulders and sleeves the color was a lavender white that gradually darkened to a deep violet past knee-length. The indigo and silver embroidered pattern near the bottom was stylistically rendered cranes walking through tall grass at dusk. On the lower part of the long sleeves where two cranes in flight. Blackwolf took it down with care and folded it as best she could. Carrying it over her forearm and with horses in tow she made her way back to Sumire. When Blackwolf returned with the horses she found Sumire doubled over on her knees. Blackwolf cursed herself as she hurried toward Sumire. She strained her senses to see if the assailant was still around. There was no sound other than Sumire’s hitched breaths, and the smell of the others before was going stale. Blackwolf went to a knee and put a hand on Sumire’s shoulder intending to push her back so that she could look at the wound. But she realized the woman was weeping over something. An instrument. Before Blackwolf could say anything other than “Sumire-“ the kneeling woman cringed a little and shrunk back. Blackwolf stayed where she was, only her hand lifted a little showing she meant no harm. She said gently, “Easy. Shh. It’s just me. It’s all right.” Sumire shook her head vigorously, and choked back her tears. “Iie, Oukami-sama. It is not all right.” she said. Putting the broken instrument aside she angrily wiped at her tears with the edges of her sleeves. Keeping her head down she gathered the words and then ground them out through clenched teeth. “I am- I am a- wretched thing. Shamefully incompetent and unpresentable to an honored Messenger of Mori-no-kami. So useless- I have shamed your visit Oukam-“ Hearing the words made Blackwolf turn her head aside for a moment to control the rising anger and frustration. When she turned back she snapped in a commanding voice that cut off Sumire’s rant. “Enough! You’re not and I’m not, so just stop. Right now. Whatever it is you think you did to fail me, give it up. You don’t know me.” Stunned by the sharp words Sumire did just that. She stopped. She wiped her nose and sniffled and regarded Oukami anew. It was then she saw Oukami had her kimono. Noticing her attention had shifted, Blackwolf held out the kimono. “I knew this must be yours-“ Sumire took it reverently and ran a hand over it, fingers tracing over a slash. Her eyes watered again, but this time she didn’t break down. She lunged forward to give Blackwolf a quick hug. “Arigatou, Oukami-sama!” But before Blackwolf had time to return the hug Sumire stood and bowed down at her. “I am almost ready, Lady Blakwoof. I will bring my things,” she announced and moved off around the wagon to gather her belongings. “Eh. Um. Yes. That’s good.” Blackwolf stood up and sighed deeply. Good. They were finally going to leave this place. The day was already hot now and she could hear the buzzing of flies. And her head was starting to hurt. She went to prepare the horses for the ride. She watched a moment; as if in ritual, Sumire wrapped a dark bundle of clothing along with the wrapped swords into the kimono she had just brought. That along with an obi sash and some other things, Sumire wrapped into another blanket. Making the entire bundle secure with some slips of silk, Sumire brought it to Blackwolf. The warrior nodded as she tested the weight and went about securing it to the back of the saddle on one horse. No sooner had she finished, when Sumire put a box in her arms. Well, Blackwolf considered, it must be important. As she dubiously considered how to fasten a box to the back of a horse, Sumire planted a sack on top of the box and disappeared behind the wagon again. “Oh... Now, wait..” muttered Blackwolf as she set the box on the ground to follow around behind the wagon. She bumped in to Sumire who had another large bundle in her arms. Blackwolf leaned around Sumire to see a pile of boxes and bundles on the ground. “You’re kidding me..” Sumire’s brow furrowed in puzzlement and she turned to see what Oukami might be looking at. “Doushitano? What is it?” Blackwolf walked over to the pile and ran a hand through her hair. “Sumire.... What is this?” Sumire went to stand by Oukami and looked at her belongings, and then at Oukami and then back at her things. “My belongings.” Blackwolf crossed her arms and nodded, not sure what to say. “You said to gather what I could...” Sumire, seeing Oukami’s frown, quickly volunteered, “I- I can find more. Just a little more time, I can find more.” Blackwolf glanced sideways at Sumire. She had been so used to traveling with the just the essential: her sword and Montara. She never needed much else. Even the women she had come to know and traveled with were very well acclimated to life on the road. This was going to be a hard road for Sumire but Blackwolf sensed she was resilient enough. “I’m sorry Sumire. We can’t take any of this,” sighed Blackwolf. Sumire looked at her as if she was mad. “It is too much for the horse.” she offered as an explanation. “But you have more than one horse” was Sumire’s hopeful reply. “No. The other horses will have riders soon. One horse is for you and what you carry.” Blackwolf pointed toward the horse that already had the bundle on the back of the saddle “That is about as much as you can take with you.” For a moment Sumire looked horrified. But when she looked at Oukami’s eyes she swallowed and nodded. She did not like that at all but she put on a brave face. “Ah. I understand. I will change a little what I have there.. And I will be done.” After some minor adjustments were made, and the free horses were tied in a loose train, Blackwolf held the reins of Sumire’s horse and held them out to her. Blackwolf had been so concerned with the horses and other details of the departure that she hadn’t noticed Sumire’s reaction to the horses until now. Another thing Blackwolf had taken for granted. “You can’t ride...” Sumire shook her head but she held her hands out for the reins anyway. Certainly she must be able to remember some of the things that Daisuke told her about riding horses. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what are those strange words in italics? Click here and scroll down to 'jappa-ness...' Edited by: the chaotrix at: 6/15/03 3:58 am |
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:24:09 GMT -6
the chaotrix Registered Member Posts: 24 (6/14/03 3:46 pm) Reply Precious Things (part III) (continued) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Blackwolf smiled and shook her head, “No. That’s okay. You can ride with me.” and then tied the horse into line. After swinging up on the horse she’d chosen for herself Blackwolf offered a hand down to Sumire. “Here. Climb up behind me.” Sumire pulled at the fabric of her sleeve and then shook her head. “Thank you, but I will walk Lady Blakwoof” Blackwolf shook her head and kept her hand out. “If we weren’t a bit pressed for time, I might let you.” Sumire looked from Blackwolf to the horse to the direction they would be headed. Again she shook her head. Trying hard to keep the growl out of her voice, Blackwolf snapped her fingers “Up. Now.” Sumire hesitated one more time before scurrying away back to the wagon to pull something form the pile. When she came back she had a closed parasol in her hand and gave Oukami a ‘I’m-taking-this-and-I-don’t-care-what-you-say’ look. Blackwolf simply smirked and shook her head. “Fine. You’re carrying it. Now” she pointedly beckoned with her hand “Please. We have to go now. It’s really starting to smell bad.” -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- what are those strange words in italics? Click here and scroll down to 'jappa-ness...' Edited by: the chaotrix at: 6/15/03 3:58 am EvergreenLM Registered Member Posts: 266 (6/15/03 3:06 pm) Reply The Homecoming -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- She drew in a startled deep breath at the sight and held it for seemingly an eternity. Breathe Vassaly, breathe. The sandals sounded hollow on the ornate marble floor, and the bearing of the footsteps signaled a walk with confidence and of purpose. As the one passed by, soldiers, like bookends at the doorway, stood erect saluting with closed fist at their chest as they gazed into nowhere. “I did not recognize you. You…you…look so…different. I am uncertain that it actually is you.” “Come walk with me.” Evergreen smiled as she extended her forearm to the woman standing in front of her. Linking her arm through the extended crook of Evergreen’s elbow, Vassaly looked at the transformation of the woman who just days before wore clothing of a commoner blending in with others of no particular defining description. Gray eyes smiled as she stepped to the side walking in cadence with Evergreen who also marveled at Vassaly now dressed in a long flowing royal blue dress belted with a small jeweled band of garnets, and leaves of gold encircling her hair curled and plied atop her head. In the leathered uniform of a Roman Captain, Vassaly thought that her companion appeared even taller as she presented with the forbearance of nobility. The silver chest plate reflected the mid-morning sun as they stepped into the court yard dotted with statues and a fountain flowing over the breast of the goddess Venus. Her gift of the short sword was now covered with a leather sheath likewise adorned with silver studs. The shorter woman's dark hair was trimmed enhancing its streaks that also glinted in the sun. Her skin was oiled turning the tanned darkness of it into a bronzed sheen. Vassaly, too, was transformed from a simple inn keeper’s sister,who no longer served others, into a woman for whom others now offered up fruits, assisted in the baths, and lavished afterwards with perfumed oils. Never had she felt such cloths next to her skin and relished the soft downy bed covered in brocaded fabric she had only seen in merchant wagons passing through her village. As she looked at the woman she knew only as Leara, Vassaly gave thanks to the gods for their stars colliding in an unseen yet shared universe. Had it only been a few short days ago? The sturdy wagon had rolled from village to village as the two women talked discovering each other…or what little Evergreen could remember and share. The little dog refused to leave the shorter woman’s side even when tempted and called to a meal of fresh meat. Only after her mistress gave the go now…eat it would the small red and white canine hungrily gobble down the offering before quickly returning to the one from which she sought permission to leave. Vassaly had laughed as she commented that the dog must have followed her appointed mistress from an afterlife back to the present time. Their entrance through the gates of Rome was a banquet of sights, sounds, colors, and movement. People were hurriedly going about their activities giving no attention to the two women arriving in a peasant’s wagon. Nor did they turn an ear to the little dog who barked at every flapping piece of cloth and stranger. In passing a great villa, with thin tall cypress trees lining either side of an ornate door, a flash of recogniton resounded in the mind's eye of the wagon's passenger. The wood bore the crest of the Roman Senate expertly crafted in relief, Evergreen touched Vassaly’s arm and whispered, “stop…stop the horses. I know this place.” Jumping down onto the cobblestone paved road, the short woman approached the guards at the entrance. “Centurion”…too which there was no response. “ You there, Centurion, who lives in this house? By what name are they called?” The question was answered with intimidating eyes and a firm set jawline. “And who would you be that you should ask?” The soldier towered over Evergreen who did not step back. “I am called Leara of Rome, daughter of Justinian, and I know this house. I can tell you the rooms and walk you to where I once slept as a child.” Her voice quivered at the thoughts in which these memories lived in part as the shadows still danced mocking what they hid from view. The soldier knew that the words spoken rang of truth and he wondered if it could be so. The slain Senator’s wife, even in her bent and knurled years, never ceased searching for the daughter taken from her by one she had entrusted so long ago. “Come with me. Your friend and the dog will have to wait here.” The Centurion pivoted saluting his counterpart. “See to it these two get food and drink.” Evergreen fell behind the soldier and entered into a world that flooded the unspoken core of her being. She was led down a hallway she knew well. There destination was known. Entering the old woman’s bedroom flashed visions of it in another place in time. Who is the other woman? Evergreen rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand as the act could bring the thoughts into focus. The old woman lying in bed, like a small bird in a great nest, stared through creped skin hooding milky eyes. A bony hand reached up and touched the side of Evergreen’s face as she struggled with some minute glimpse of recognition. A child’s face lay hidden among the one of the adult looking back at her. The Centurion pounded his chest in salute. “This woman claims to know this house. She states that her name is Leara…Leara of Rome, daughter of Justinian.” Then old woman gazed intently on the face, and with only partial recognition, and hope of discovery for the lost child before entering the Elysian Fields, declared… “My daughter…my child…has been returned. Praise and thanksgiving to the gods, my offerings have finally been answered.” "People can do what they please...so long as they don't do it in the street and frighten the horses..." Edited by: EvergreenLM at: 6/16/03 10:50 am |
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:25:12 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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(6/16/03 1:42 am)
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Returns
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She had completed her self-appointed mission easily, Phalon’s poison had seen to that. Once she had put up the last acorn to Macha, she returned to the clearing, picking up the few things that were hers. Puella’s blanket, Evergreen’s sword, her own clothes . . . so small a bundle. These she gathered and took to the stream for a quick wash. It would do no good for her to arrive covered in blood, though none of it was hers.
Damp, but clean, she donned her clothes and tied the blanket around the sword to carry them both on her back. Stomping her feet more comfortably into her boots, she returned the clearing, found the horse tracks and broke into a lope.
Running felt different when one was running to something, rather than away. The rhythmic thump of her booted feet gave her something to focus on past the burn in her legs. She lifted her face to the dark sky, smiling. The night had been long, and she had wallowed in righteous wrath, but in the end she felt . . . refreshed, cleansed, renewed.
Bhen Rudha paused only long enough to look at the ground with crimson covered eyes. In the monochrome light, she saw that she was still following the horses of the party. Maybe another hour away if she pushed it.
She smelled the woodsmoke before she saw it and slowed her steps, working to slow her breathing as well. Walking soft as she could, she blinked back the crimson once the glow of the fire could be seen. Through the ring of protective trees, she saw the sleeping forms of the other women, only Xendra appeared to be awake on watch.
Knowledge of the Amazon’s name rolled through the Red Woman’s mind and she felt briefly the other’s thoughts. Shaking her head, she decided that it was high time she gave back what she had taken.
Blowing out a breath, she stepped out of the ring of trees, making certain to make some noise. Xendra brought her gaze around swiftly, tense with the high emotions of the evening. Seeing who had emerged into the firelight, the Amazon relaxed, and a puzzled look crossed her face.
“Red? What are you doing out there?” Xendra said softly, looking back and counting the huddled forms. “Where have you been?”
“I be runnin’ on me own twa feet, aye?” Bhen Rudha whispered back. “Dinnae be ha’in’ a horse ta be ridin’. Be keepin’ up as I cen . . . dinnae ha’e me old . . . indoo, endoor . . .” she waved a hand, searching for the word.
“Endurance?”
“Aye! Endurance.” She pronounced the word slowly, committing it to memory before continuing, “Be needin’ ta be restin’ a time o’ two.”
“Well, as long as you’re all right then,” the Amazon said with a small smile. “Why don’t you grab a place around the fire and get some sleep . . . it looks like the night was longer for you than everyone else.”
It felt strange to stand face to face with this Amazon, chatting as if they might be friends, or at least comrades in arms. She needed to give the name back, before the theft became detrimental to whatever relationship they might have.
Moving to Xendra and placing a hand on her shoulder, she spoke before the other could raise a question, “Thrice I have named ye. Thrice I dae free ye. Yer name be her own. Nae longer held by me.”
She could feel the knowledge of the name slide out of her arm and back into the other woman, leaving a hollow within. A soft glow lit Xendra for a moment and when it vanished into afterimages, the Amazon blinked several times, uncertain what to say.
“Red . . . I . . .” she stammered.
Bhen Rudha held up a hand, interrupting her, “Be ye welcome. Oiche mhaith.” She was suddenly exhausted. The bit of magic had sapped what energy she had. And so with her goodnight said, she left Xendra staring after her as she wandered to the far side of the fire. Then it was but a matter of moments for her to take off her baldric and belt, lay herself straight on the ground and fall asleep.
Xendra shook her head as she watched the strange woman, then did a double take. In the glimmer of fire and moonlight, she saw a dark bruise spread across the left side of the Red Woman's face. Maybe she would have Phalon take a look at it in the morning.
phalon1
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(6/16/03 9:41 pm)
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Faces
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Phalon watched Red enter the small camp through half closed eyes. She was not yet asleep, though she should be, but only made a half-hearted effort to do so. The stolen sword lay at her side, and she kept thinking about the images she had seen earlier from the sword’s wielder’s perspective as if she were looking through his eyes. She saw the fear, disbelief – and hatred on the faces of the blade’s victims clearly, and that clarity frightened her. It frightened her because it made her realize that, no matter how just the cause may have been, or how evil the enemy, that look on those faces would have been the same look on the faces of those she had struck down. As she lay by the fire, with sickened fascination, she kept a hand on the sword next to her, waiting for more images to flood her mind, and perhaps lead her to a discovery, some kind of validation, that there was a difference between the sword’s victims and hers. Nothing. No images. No validation. Only sleeplessness.
Red crossed the clearing and laid her bedroll next to hers. Phalon saw in Bhen Rudha’s eyes that familiar fiery glint she had seen so often in the short time since they met. When Red lay down, Phalon propped herself up, resting her head on her hand and stared at the other woman. Though she was laying, certainly exhausted, the energy the other woman emitted was powerful, and Phalon felt as though a formidable presence towered above her.
“Red?”
“Huh? Oh, hello Phalon.” Sleepily she asked, “What ye be needin’ of me?”
Phalon looked hard into the other’s eyes for a moment before wetting her thumb on her tongue and wiping it across Bhen Rudha’s cheek, removing a tiny speck of dried blood. “Oh nothing. You missed a spot.”
Red cringed, partially from the tenderness of what would surely become a rather large bruise on her cheek by morning, and partially from what information she knew Phalon gathered from the brief contact.
“We need not expect those bandits to follow us, do we?” Phalon asked, not needing or expecting an answer.
“Ye be sleepin’ well this night, Phalon”, mummured Red, as she rolled away and fell asleep.
Phalon rolled over as well, and with her back toward’s Red, clutched her sword in folded arms at her chest, waiting…for…something. “I be sleepin’ well, indeed”, she mumbled.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:28:21 GMT -6
1 Xwpfan
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(6/16/03 10:50 pm)
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Anticipation is keeping me waiting....
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Xendra sat there bound, carefully studying their predicament. Xendra knew and trusted Zena well enough to know that Zena had the situation well in hand
Xendra sighed despite her desires to attack all she she really could do was wait for Zena’s signal to attack.
Attack. How many times in her life had she been put in this position of watching ,listening, waiting . How many times had she and her sisters overcome insurmontable odds? Somehow they always managed It seemed like that was what she herself was doing these days,managing.
In some weird way Xendra was happy for this distraction it allowed her to focus on her friends and sisters rather than what was happening inwardly. Xendra could feel that something deep within her was amiss, it wasn’t like the empty dull aching void that she felt when she was Evil and yet she could not truly feel the fullness of joy or even of worry and she didn’t know why.
On the outside everything appeared normal but inside it was like there was a veneer or like the webbing within a spider’s web that laid over her heart and mind. Xendra wished more than anything that she could just sweep away the haze so that she could once again see and feel clearly.
Xendra wished she could explain what she felt within herself but could not.Xendra decided to refocus her energies on the situation at hand and began to visually locate each memeber of the group.
Xendra scanned the group but as usual her eyes rested on Puella.Things were just not the same between the two women. Somehow no words of consequence had passed between them in awhile. Xendra wondered if the gap within herself was a symptom of the silent rift that existed between her and Puella?
Xendra sighed,if only if it were that easy, but inwardly she knew Puella was but a piece but not the full reason.
Xendra continued to scan the group, when she got to Boudicca she couldn’t help but laugh. Poor Boudicca was shifting and nervously adjusting and readjusting her all too tight dress. It seemed Boudicca was trying in vain to hide her ample bossoms from the vile and disgusting hoar mongers that leered so wantingly at them.
Boudicca continually fidgeted with nervous energy. Only Boudicca’s eyes gave away her true emotions for they constantly darted from one man to another.
Occassionally Boudicca’s eyes would rest on a man just long enough to give a menacing scowl.
Once again Xendra’s thoughts were drifting from the the situation, this time it was thoughts of Boudicca. Why did Xendra now feel the need to protect this woman and of course the others as well?
It seemed a bit odd, for Xendra had always fended basically for herself. Xendra was used to being alone…until Puella.
Since Puella, Xendra had allowed herself to open up and to truly let herself to get to know,love and care for each of these women.
Reaching out to strangers had never come easy to Xendra and now there was Red, the slave girl and Boudicca.
It seemed a bit unsettling to Xendra that she now was so willingly extending her time and energy and protection on some people she really didn’t know well and yet what else could she do? All there lives were in peril .
Xendra pushed back the gnawing thoughts of self and refocused on trying to make sure that her sisters and friends would follow Zena’s and Phalon’s lead.
Xendra again intently focused on Zena and found herself bemused as she heard Zena create for the head thug’s benefit an entire civilization. According to Zena’s story they were seemingly members of a rather exotic Arabic tribe.
Xendra wondered how gullible could these thugs be to believe for even a moment that such a tribe existed?!.
Xendra strained to hear Zena’s every word but she could not believe her ears when she heard Zena talk about a special ritual in which they would give themselves willingly to these swine. Intellectually,Xendra knew it had to be all part of Zena’s plan and yet overwhelming rage filled Xendra’s heart and mind.
Xendra shut her eyes for a moment trying to center herself trying to block out the nauseating thought of those vile, smelly, filthy sweaty men touching anyone of them but she could not.
In her heart Xendra swore death to any man who would touch even a hair on the two young ones. When Xendra opened her eyes, she caught Red’s glaring stare. Red’s facial expressions nearly matched Xendra’s own thoughts and emotions. Xendra nodded as she acknowledged the growing rage and blood lust shone on Red’s face for it was simply mirroring what was in Xendra’s thoughts.
Xendra drew in a deep breath to try to calm herself yet again. Xendra cleared her minds eye. Xendra had been a warrior long enough to know not to give herself over to emotion but rather to stay calm and not give any outward signs of anger.
Xendra from her vantage point could see where each was seated .Xendra attempted to methodically look around the group trying to assess the situation.
Xendra returned her attention back to Red. she found herself quite relieved to see the slave girl was sitting next to Red.
Xendra gave the slightest nod to show her approval. It had been a wise move to make sure that the two young girls were separated from each other. Xendra knew the slave girl would be safe with Red by her side.
As Xendra looked around she spotted Lil Gabby sitting next to Phalon. Yes, having the two young ones separated was defintely going to be to their advantage.
Xendra watched Lil Gabby for a few moments and couldn’t help but smile as she realized that the slight movement in Lil Gabby’s arms meant she was carefully trying to undo her bonds…she was a quick learner and would make a fine Amazon someday.
Xendra then turned her attention back to Puella.
Puella was the furthest away from her not only emotionally but physically as well.Even at a distance though, Xendra could tell that Puella was calmly loosening her bonds and working at not letting her face give away any of the raging emotions that were going through her. Xendra knew Puella was just bidding her time waiting for a chance to exact some vengenace against the cowardly men that held them bound.
Xendra heard Zena’s voice pause for just a second .. long enough to regain Xendra’s undivided attention again..
Xendra listened in sillence and carefully studied each man ‘s face as Zena spoke but not even Xendra could hold back the full tilt roar when she heard Zena explain the condition of Boudicca as “A penance from the King,” for too much talk”.
Luckily, the head thugs laughter overpowered Xendra’s unexpected laugh,for his laugh was a loud malicious and lacivious laugh that resounded throughtout the woods.
Xendra looked over at Boudicca and saw a far away look a upon her face. Xendra wondered what kind of torture she was dreaming of for that particular thug.
Xendra could hear Boudicca mumbling threats and epithets.
Xendra shot Boudicca a look that said remain quiet, even though silence was not Boudicca’s strong suit she tried to oblige Xendra.
Xendra continued checking on everyone, she smiled as she saw that Blackwolf was intently listening and had just about managed to work herself out of her bindings .
Xendra had also been working on her bindings as she observed and was relieved as she felt her own bindings loosen as she deftly manuvered her fingers between the haphazard knots.
Boudicca who seemed to always be observing Xendra anyway, took notice and mouthed “What’s the plan?” “<br>Xendra smiled a half smile as she mouthed back “I don’t know. “
Xendra usually loved moments like this,the anticipation the excitement, the thrill of not knowing what was going to happen next,placing your life on the line for your friends and sisters and having complete trust and faith that it will be alright. This time she didn’t have the rush of excitement just the hope that everyone would be alright.
Xendra watched carefully as they began the preparation of the food. Xendra watched with great interest as Phalon filled her little herb pot twice with the Meadow Rue and carefully cleaned her fingers of the broth after spilling the contents into the mix. Xendra surmised that Phalon had somehow poisoned or compromised the food.
Xendra watched with some anticipation as Zena stirred the stew.Once Zena pronounced it finished all eyes and ears hung on Zena’s every word.
Zena said “First I teach ancient Arabian custom. All guests eat first in hospitality. Then we will eat.”
The head thug retorted “Oh no you don’t, you and your women get the first bowls. The WE eat.”
Zena bowed low,as if to comply, and whispered to Phalon, “Naw sunche gamma.”
“I heard that!! What did you say to her??” the thug grabbed Zena’s arm .
“Please, no hurt!!” Zena bowed again “I only say you do not wish the ritual.”
The thug growled “What foreign trickery is this? What ritual?”
“The gamma. We show hospitality by giving food, then we give how you say, “fun” with men.”
The listening men around him took a deep breath in unison.
“You mean you would give yourselves willingly??”the head thug asked incredously.
His henchmen groaned and lurched forward
Zena coyly answered “Oh yes, for hospitality, but only if we fast first.”
Without a moments hesisitation the lead thug said“All right then, but YOU will still eat the first bowl.”
Not a soul blinked as Zena picked up the wooden bowls,it was as if they could not look anywhere but at Zena’s hands.
Thirty men reached out with calloused and grubby hands, eagerly accepting their bowls of stew, their hands engulfied the bowl and tightened in anticipation of gobbling up the food as quickly as was humanly possible.
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/20/03 3:15 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:30:55 GMT -6
1 Xwpfan
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(6/16/03 10:50 pm)
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Anticipation is keeping me waiting.... (continued)
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After each man had his bowl, Zena came before the leader. Zena approached with a lil bow and a purposeful batting of the eyelashes and then presented him his bowl of stew almost as an added thought Zena playfully placed a few extra pieces of the Meadow Rue on top of his stew as if they were a prize. The leader smirked in sheer anticpation but not of his meal but rather for what he thought would be desert.
The leader motioned, it was Zena’s turn to eat the dinner. Zena had Phalon serve her and then walked to the center where every eye was upon her.
Zena knew every movement, every intake of food and every breath would be closely examined by both groups. Zena relished the moment, she closed her eyes in sheer enjoyment.
Thirty nine pairs of eyes watched the stew slowly disappear; both waiting in anticpation but each having different outcomes planned.
Finally Zena was finished consuming the food, but they still had to be sure it was not poisoned so for a full five minutes the men stood and the women sat in silence and stared at Zena.
Zena stood proudly in the center of the group,smiled as demurly as she could and adjusted the cloth in her hair and hummed a little tune.
The head thug thought surely if it was poison she’d be dead by now and gave the ok sign to the thugs .
Worse than ravenous dogs the thugs greedily gulped from their bowls, slurping and fighting each other for more.
Xendra and the other women kept looking at one another for nothing seemed to be happening to the men. Xendra started to worry until she saw some of the men shifting uncomfortably on the ground nearby. They stumbled and crawled on wobbly legs to use the bushes.
At first it was just one or two but before long nearly twenty-five or so had made been affected.
The leader felt a strange gurgling in his stomach and was feeling nauesish and strangely uncomfortable, realizing the source of the discomfort he shoved Zena backwards towards the fire.
Red lept to her feet and powerfully stood over Zena and briefly challenged the leader toe to toe until he became distracted by the arrival of a messenger.
After a brief exchange he dragged the man into the trees and was beating him,when the stew hit him with a vengence.
The lead thug let out a cry of pain and a series of curses as he fell to his knees, he was unable to walk for his stomach knotted with pain.
Xendra jumped up as Zena cried out “NOW!”
Blackwolf freed Phalon and the slave girl. They quickly shed their bonds and hastily grabbed their horses and belongings
Puella full of anger and outrage could not help but to stop and severely kick one of the thugs before she raced to her horse.
Xendra was about to follow suit when she spotted Boudicca attempting to beat one thug senseless and was unmercifullly threatening him to kill him for staring at her.
Xendra managed to pull Boudicca off of him and directed her to the horses-
Xendra hastily explained that it was better to gather their stuff and get out of there while they could then exact revenge on defenseless slimy men.
As Boudicca and Xendra were running to the horses, Xendra heard Zena call in perfect Greek “You REALLY need to learn some manners, cursing in front of women, shame!”
“Phalon! How much time do we have??”
Xendra watched as Phalon looked back towards woods where the groans of the men could still be heard . “Mmmmm. Two days. Maybe three.”
Phalon pointed toward the leader who had collapsed and was lying on a thorn bush. “Make that a week. Men just can’t handle a little pain.”
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/20/03 3:15 pm
Leara
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Posts: 39
(6/17/03 7:59 pm)
Reply Washed Away
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The evil that battled for the complete control of the earth touched the base fiber of being and found a responsive and eager host. My heart and mind were betrayed by who I really am a Roman. That part of me was loved and embraced by the Evil. My body stiffened as I watched Puella disappeared into the forest back to the others. I slumped against a Majestic oak hoping that its strength would help me to fight.
Pulling the lacing from my belt I tied the Trident to my wrists. I was determined not to lose this entrusted treasured weapon. I was determined that evil would not gain possession of it as long as I had a breath left in me.
The rain saturated the ground and it began to yield to the rains incessant flow. The ground now soupy mud began to slide into the now swollen stream. Helplessly I was swept away with the current down stream. The battle had begun and its ebb and flow could be measured by the temperature of the water. As evil advanced it became frigid and warmer with its retreat.
It seems abundantly clear to me that I will not fit in with the great band of warriors that has successfully beaten back the advance of evil. I am not destined to have a home or a family. I am alone again just like old times. I imagine they will hang a shoot on sight price on my head after my latest failure.
I had only one option one card to play I kept fast hold of the Trident as the waters washed me out to sea. I relaxed as the waters seemed to warm completely. A smile crept across my face as I sensed that the battle was won by those whom I’d abandoned once again.
There is no escaping my present condition floating in the Sea with nothing but water in every direction as far as the eye can see. The only changes are the blazing heat of the sun by day and the freezing cold of the long night. How many times they changed places I could not say I find my self slipping in and out of sleep. In my mind the cadence of the waves bring the questions that have no answers like the waves have no answers. “Who am I? Where do I belong? Will I always be alone? Am I defined by birth or choice? What comes next? ….
My thirst grew stronger with each passing moment until it became the single loudest voice in my head. I tried to recall all the stories I had heard about sailors going mad from drinking sea water in time even that did not help. I began to reason that it is better to be mad than dead. Surely a few sips would not be missed by the great Poseidon and only a few would not hurt me. A single sip soon became sips which slipped to a slurp and finally a satisfying swallow.
I had given in and I waited nothing happened I was safe I had gotten away with it in the moonlight. I sank into sweet sleep with the thirst demon silenced. The early light of dawn proved to be another matter. Churning and bubbling waters near by me made me rethink the drink of sea water surely the madness does not set in this early it was only one drink.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:32:25 GMT -6
Leara
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Posts: 40
(6/17/03 11:28 pm)
Reply Washed Up
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Before my eyes appeared a chariot unlike any I had ever seen before, it was made of coral and shells from the deep. It was trimmed out in gold and a fine mesh of braided gold made the tack that harnessed the great fish that pulled it through the sea. It glistened in the early morning light of dawn it was fit for only one person the god of the Sea. I waited for him to appear but it was silent except the waves of the sea.
The mermaid appeared with an ornate silver trident and a look that meant business. I was waved on to the chariot. I obliged it was somewhere else besides the endless waiting and floating in the Sea. I sat down on the floor of the chariot I did not have the strength to stand. The chariot suddenly plunged into the sea like a stone. I could see the light disappearing as we dove for the bottom. I was going to be drowning well at least it would be a quick painless trip and one to talk about for all times.
Just as I could feel the last bit of air escaping my chest the chariot came to rest under a Great dome with breathable air. The chariot pulled along side a great marble staircase and pointed for me to exit. I made my way out on my unsteady legs and began to ascend the stairs. The doors at the top were raised carvings of sea creatures of all kinds overlaid with gold, silver and bronze.
The doors opened to reveal an even grander room ornate with gold and silver sculptures. There are so many beautiful things it is hard to take them all in. I walk down to where Poseidon awaits.
“You have returned you puny human. Is the task complete?” He boomed
“Yes the evil has been beaten this time. It always finds a way to rise again but hopefully it will be a long time before that day returns to threaten the earth again.” I quietly answer.
“What now do you seek? You humans seek something all the time. Ask!” Poseidon queried.
“I have come to keep my word to return to you personally your Trident just as we agreed when you lent it to me. I would ask that I be returned to the surface near Rome and that you will give me a favor in the future when I ask it.” I calmly but firmly stated my request.
“Why should I give to you anything why have you done for me?” Poseidon indignantly asked.
“The force of evil that threatened your very existence and need on the planet was beaten back into its prison by humans. I have kept my end of the bargain to return the trident but I can imagine with a little more time that I can learn all the secrets held in the use of the trident. I think that I could even rival you to rule the sea with the power of the trident behind me.” I coolly stated hoping not to anger him too much but to calmly point out the obvious.
“You have been out on the Sea for some days now rest eat and take what ever you can find or want from my house. In three days I will give you an answer on the things that you request.” Poseidon thoughtfully answered.
I did not trust him there were no gods to be trusted everything was a play a ploy to get their own way. I was tired and hungry not to even mention my thirst. An escort arrived and led the way out of the room and down the hall toward another great room. There spread on the long table was every sort of dish prepared imaginable. I begin to sample the dishes as I pas by them some are old favorites and others were new. I drank wine and lots of it silencing my thirst at last. Finally I was lead to a room with a large bed that looked very inviting and so I climbed right in and fell asleep with the trident.
When I awoke I headed back down the hall to find some more food and drink. The escort that I had enjoyed earlier was awaiting me outside the door. I could sure go for a good bath some clean clothes and some weapons as a girl has to be prepared. My escort obliged and led the way to the rooms where each request was promptly filled. The weapons room was an interesting place lots to see and try. One worked claimed that if it fell into the Sea it eventually ends up here. I browsed through and made my selections and so that was how I passed three days time.
“I have decided to grant the things that you ask as they seem small and fair.” Poseidon announced.
So with his words I climbed again it to the chariot that brought me to the depths of the sea. In a few moments I was back on the surface of the waters with land in sight and my clothes as dry as ever. I stepped out of the chariot with water to my ankles and returned the Trident to its owner. I made my way up the shore and into the woods so I could figure out where I had landed and how best to get to Rome.
They say the best place to start a story is the beginning and the best place for answers is at the source. So I have to head to the house of my father, with destination fixed all that was left was the how to arrive in to town.
phalon1
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(6/17/03 11:54 pm)
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Faces (Part II)
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She had the validation she was searching for, of course, if she’d only take a moment to think it through.
If she were thinking clearly, she’d realized the difference between the faces of this sword’s victims and the ones whose lives she ended was simple. A matter of trading places. Hers was the face in which the stolen sword was waved. The defender. The protector. The one who believed in causes for which she would give her life. She didn’t enjoy battle. Didn’t thrive on it. But she did it when it needed to be done, and did it without flinching. She’d never raised her sword out of greed. She didn’t kill out of hatred, or for revenge – not now anyway. Not since that single event so long ago, when out of hatred and revenge she had taken the lives of those who stole her life – her love, purposely, but without purpose.
Phalon didn’t see this now. All she saw was the tortured faces, eyes wide with fear, and mouths twisted in agony. These images tormented her, and she became lost in them, as she was once lost in guilt and the madness it caused.
Hugging the sword to her chest and still searching for answers, she finally drifted off to sleep. She didn’t feel the bite of the blade into her palms as her grip on the thing tightened when she started to dream.
gabbin
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(6/18/03 8:43 pm)
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Frieda II (Part one wasn't labeled)
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Frieda heard a knock at the door and found her friend Maytussa there, they linked arms and stolled out happily to the market place. The buzz of peddlers greeted them. As she walked Frieda held out her hand and let it run softly over the wares. Clothes, pottery, and breads, finally she felt the familiar touch of the honey pots. She greeted Heather, the seller of honey, and asked for a taste to see what tickled her tongue's fancy, dipping in her pinky finger and
filling her mouth with the taste of wildflowers, orange blossums and sage of the May honey- the next was the a different fingerful of thyme/clover from the June bees-then Pine honey of July, she choose the thyme/clover was the perfect one for baking her honey bread. The Pine taste
was just right and reminded her of summers in Scotland making clover necklaces.
After walking through the market the pair sauntered back to the flannel cloth shop and Frieda separated from her friend and went back to work, thinking of clover fields and honey breads.
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:33:34 GMT -6
EvergreenLM
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Posts: 270
(6/18/03 9:30 pm)
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THE REQUEST
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The Domus was quiet with only a scattering of servants going about their morning task. The meeting lasted until just moments before sunrise.
The night was gone ,and although her body ached for sleep, the mind granted little rest in contemplation of the request.
To lead an army? Against a band of women? Surely these few remnants of a tattered tribe could be no threat against the formidable power of Rome.
Her now booted footsteps echoed against the numidian marble floors. Such grandeur was found at every turn. Colorful mosaics competed with the detailed murals. Expertly chiseled and defined statues stood in silent judgment of their beauty.
Such familiarity washed in and out of her mind as she searched in the shadows for the sounds of a lost childhood. Unlike the mosaics, the picture she sought was not whole, and was pocked with missing pieces.
I must tell Vassaly.
The new morning light filtered through the lattice covered window partially covered in vines. Large white blossoms filled the breeze with its sweet scent. Evergreen quietly entered the bed chamber and momentarily watched Vassaly softly inhale and exhale the breath of deep sleep. She envied the peace of it all.
Moving over to the side of the bed, bootsteps sounded causing the sleeping woman to stir with gray eyes blinking as they came into focus on a face that bore a kindness,and yet, shadowed with sadness. No words were spoken.
Evergreen turned to the bedside table and poured last night’s wine into a silver goblet. Swishing liquid the color of dark blood, she stared at the contents before quickly swallowing all of it without pause.
“What is troubling you so that I see you take what now must be a bitter drink before we have had our morning meal? Have you not slept? You are wearing the same garment as you did when we walked last evening in the gardens. And I see you now have riding boots. What is this?”
The emptied goblet sounded like a silver cymbal as it was forcefully return to the small marble table. Evergreen stood silent choosing not to face her inquisitor.
“Do you think I can kill an enemy, not of my making, but so appointed by my own mother? Tell me that.”
Vassaly rose up, removed the night coverings as she turned sitting with her legs tucked under her. She patted the edge of the bed causing Evergreen to look in the direction of the sound.
“Sit.” Was all she softly said, and the tired, dark haired woman did as asked.
With her boots touching the floor, Evergreen fell back covering her eyes with her forearm. The urge to sleep was overpowering.
“My mother…my mother has requested that I carry out her vengeance on a band of women…Amazons…like the old man said as he called out to me as we left your village. I still think that a curious thing.”
Vassaly rose from the bed giving much thought to the portent of the words her companion spoke. She stooped as she clasped her hand under tanned muscular calves as she removed one then the other polished black boots.
Gathering both legs, she pivoted them to the surface of the bed as Evergreen sat up for slender fingers to initiate the task of removing the gleaming silver breastplate.
“What is it…exactly…she would have you do?” The buckles were released as the metal protection was removed and lowered to the floor. “Lie down and rest.”
The servants did not understand how this Inn keeper’s sister could command, even be it gently, the one who had returned to assume a position of inherited power. The one who now possessed the power to command an army.
Hushed whispers of speculation were freely traded among those who dared not speak their thoughts out loud as to be overheard and punished for their gossip.
“What then, Leara…would she have you do?” The woman with concerned gray eyes placed a pillow behind dark hair.
“She blames them… the woman called Evergreen…for the killing of my father, and the slaughter of many Roman soldiers by her tribe. My mother…has requested... that I lead a select cohort, one of ten divisions of Rome’s finest, to search them out.”
“And what will you do when they are found?” Light clicking was heard on the marble floor. Little Dog jumped up on the bed curling between the two women. Both hands reached out to soft ears and gently stroked the small dog’s smooth coat.
Evergreen’s hand left the Little Dog’s side and reached out for her friend whose smooth fingers, without hesitation, interlaced with a calloused and scarred hand.
“She has asked me to destroy them… kill them... to kill them all."
"People can do what they please...so long as they don't do it in the street and frighten the horses..."
Edited by: EvergreenLM at: 6/18/03 9:36 pm
1itt1e dog
Registered Member
Posts: 6
(6/19/03 6:09 pm)
Reply Roman Stink
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“Come with me. Your friend and the dog will have to wait here.” The Centurion pivoted saluting his counterpart. “See to it these two get food and drink.” Food and drink was of no use to the dog if Evergreen was gone. He struggled against Vassaly’s arms and then howled.
(O...o..o..wwwww. Wait!! Me too!! Me too!! Gone...Gone..Sniffsniff. Don’t want water. Nicehandslady..meat? no meat.g..o..n..e..sigh)
It was not long before the three were once again united and Little Dog rejoiced as if he were seeing Evergreen for the first time in years. He danced and lept, wagging his tail so hard that Evergreen joked to Vassaly that the tail might one day wag right off his body. The humans seemed to be comfortable in the big marble house, claiming bedrooms and following a new schedule of eating and sleeping. The dog however, remained uneasy and nipped at the guards. One in particular bore a familiar Roman smell that frightened him and made him edgey. He had lain all night at the door to a meeting room waiting for Evergreen and had wandered away near morning for water. The hated guard was on duty.
(Grrrrrrrr. Bad male two legs. Stink..bad..sniff..animal.. animal on his foot!! BITE!)
His sharp teeth slid around the sandal strap of the soldier and he cut it through in one snap.
(AH!! Got the animal..dead..dry..oh!! R..U..N..Find My Woman!!!)
With the soldier swearing and stumbling after him he rounded a corner at top speed, slid past the door and returned following her smell. Inside the room he trotted across the cold marble floor to jump on the bed between the two women.
(Mmmmmmmm...ear scratch..nicehandslady and my woman..more!!)
The guard arrived with sandal in hand and murderous intent in his heart.
(Grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr)
Cave Canem
Edited by: 1itt1e dog at: 6/20/03 2:12 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:35:49 GMT -6
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(6/20/03 10:19 am)
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First watch
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The horses stood still and accepted the impact of the quickened mounts, for the horses seemed to know their duties before even being ordered, perhaps because the horses had done this exercise many times before.Whatever the reason, the horses almost in unision formed a pack and were racing off into the unknown yet again.
It was understood,it was time to ride with unbridled ferocity.There was no time to waste for it was vital to put as much distance as they could between themselves and the thugs before darkness over took the land .
Xendra became concerned about Red’s whereabouts. Xendra had done a quick count as they had departed and she had not counted Red among their numbers as they hurried away.Xendra spoke not a word of her concern.
As darkness began to encroach upon the group and some distance was put between them and the filthy thugs Xendra would hold back her horse Solaria a little bit, so the trees wouldn't whirl by so quickly and so that she could sneak a look back in hopes of spoting a glimpse of Red.
There were no signs of Red. Xendra looked ahead hoping against hope that maybe Red had gotten ahead of them somehow.Try as she may,all Xendra could see was Lil Gabby proudly riding Lukos.
Xendra thought to herself ”Gabby is looking more and more like an Amazon everyday.” Xendra continued to silently look for Red but it seemed Red had disappeared into the night.
The warmth of the day was now gone and the coolness of the evening was taking over,yet they rode for awhile longer.They pushed themselves further wanting to be sure to have atleast a hard days ride between them and the thugs.
Had they not been so physically and emotionally drained from the evenings events they could have used the moon's light to ride deeper into the night.
As Xendra watched them ride,she knew despite the moon giving off great light they really had no choice but to try to cautiously to make another makeshift camp.
Xendra was bringing up the rear of the group so it took a short while for word to come back to Xendra that Zena had spotted a small clearing up ahaead with a good treeline. Xendra nodded with agreement, it would suffice for the evening.
After carefully tethering and watering her horse, each woman gathered wood to build a fire. With the fire successfully built, they laid out their bedrolls in a circle near the fire ring. Even the warmth of the fire offered them little personal comfort after the events of the early eve.
Xendra looked around at the dwindling group and could see that the ride and the events of the evening had exhausted them,so she offered to take first watch.
Xendra was glad to have first watch, it would keep her occupied.
Xendra began to walk the perimeter of the camp looking for the best vantage point in which to guard from. Xendra hadn’t walked far when she heard Zena call out to sleepy sisters, “So, what do you think? Anyone for leftover stew?”
Xendra let out a muffled laugh as Xendra thought “Only Zena could think of food.. She’s always hungry even when no one but Zena had eaten earlier in the evening !!”
Xendra paused and wistfully watched as they playfully showered Zena with sticks and small pebbles from all directions.
Xendra kept a careful watch as they each settled into their bedrolls for the night.
Xendra decided that the south entrance would be the most likely point of attack if any were to come, so she found a solid tree in which to climb. As Xendra climbed up into the branches of the tree she could clearly see the entire camp and was able to observe her sisters and friends.
Xendra crouched low within the bough of the branches and could see that they were now sound asleep around the fire. They looked so peaceful and yet so vunerable. Xendra vowed to herself No stranger was going to enter their camp on her watch.
As she shifted her weight in the tree she could hear an awful sound almost like a loud bear,she looked down to see where it was coming from – it was coming from Boudicca!
Xendra shook her head,the woman was loud even in her sleep!
Xendra jumped from the branch and approached Boudicca. Just as she was about to wake her, Xendra heard the slave girl mumble “Just turn her over she’ll stop.”
Xendra nodded and gently put her hands on Boudicca’s shoulder to flip her but she did not budge. Xendra tried again using a little more force.
Suddenly,Boudicca’s eyes flew open and their eyes met and Boudicca accusingly said to Xendra,”What are you trying to do? Cop a feel?”
Xendra stepped back,she was obviously flustered and embarassed “No!! I um. I was trying to flip you because you were snoring and could give away our position!”
Boudicca hissed "That’s a lie! I do not snore! “
The slave girl mumbled “Oh yes you do!”and turned herself back towards the fire.
Xendra smiled and whispered "Yes you do!" and then winked and said" So do I". Xendra grinned as she began to walk back to her place in the tree and burst out laughing when she heard Boudicca cried out again ,” I do not snore!”
Xendra found herself chuckling as she continued to walk back to her post. Xendra had not gotten far when she heard a sound from just beyond the camp.
Xendra’s instincts heightened and her gait increased, in a blink of an eye she was back to her sentry post with weapons in hand.
Xendra listened closer,the sound was not that of a heavy foot and the branches did not shake and rattle like the movement of a ruffian or thug. No, this was a calculated movement of a warrior. Xendra stiffened and waited for her chance to pounce on the intruder.
Just as Xendra drew her weapon to make her attack she saw a familiar outline. Xendra relaxed and let down her guard as the familar figure drew closer.
Xendra not wanting to wake the others, softly asked “Red? Is that you? What are you doing out there?” “Where have you been?”
“I be runnin’ on me own twa feet, aye?” Bhen Rudha whispered back. “Dinnae be ha’in’ a horse ta be ridin’. Be keepin’ up as I cen . . . dinnae ha’e me old . . . indoo, endoor . . .” she waved a hand, searching for the word.
“Endurance?”
“Aye! Endurance.” “Be needin’ ta be restin’ a time o’ two.”
“Well, as long as you’re all right then,” Xendra was relieved and couldn’t help but smile as she told her “I got first watch, why don’t you grab a place around the fire and get some sleep ?. . . it looks like the night was longer for you than everyone else.”
Xendra expected a simple good night so she was a bit startled when Red placed her hand on her shoulder.
Xendra wanted to say something but Red spoke before she could utter a sound “Thrice I have named ye. Thrice I dae free ye. Yer name be her own. Nae longer held by me.”
As Red spoke the words,the name resonated within, XENDRA .
Something came alive with in Xendra a warm glow rose up from Xendra’s toes and went throughout her entire body.
In seconds, gone was the heaviness and the cob web feeling around her heart.
Somehow with a few spoken words Xendra was made whole again ..she was once again truly Xendra . Xendra was overcome and blinked several times to hold back the tears,uncertain what to say.
Xendra stammered. “Red . . . I . . .”
Red held up a hand, interrupting her, “Be ye welcome. Oiche mhaith.”
Xendra stood there in amazement just staring at Red.
Xendra felt strange,she really didn’t know what to say to Red.
Events had been such that she had not gotten to know Red, just her deeds which were becoming too numerous for words.
Had it truly been not that long ago that they had been consumed by the same Evil, had not Red had nearly died to save all of them and had Red not just earlier that evening leapt to Zena's defense?
This warrior Red had just given her back her name - her self.
A simple thank you would have been a nice start to a conversation but the words Thank you got stuck in Xendra's throat and no other words seemed to be enough.
Small talk came hard to both of them especially Xendra.
Xendra realized the akward silence and tried to clear her throat so to speak but Red held up her hand quickly said goodnight.
Xendra studied Red and wondered why it had been so hard to just stand there face to face with warrior.
Xendra continued to stare long after Red had left her presence.
Xendra didn’t understand much about magic but she knew that powerful magic had just been done.
Xendra couldn’t take her eyes off of Red, even as she removed her baldric and her belt. Xendra stepped forward to get a closer look and in the glimmer of the fire and the increasing light of the moon she was able to clearly see a large dark bruise on the left cheek of Red.
Instantly,Xendra remembered Red's face and the hatred and contempt that had shone in Red’s eyes towards their captors. As Red's face drifted from her memory Xendra realized the bruise had not been there just hours before.
Xendra stepped back and shook her head, Xendra knew Red had must of gotten that bruise as she made the men pay the ultimate price for hodling them in captivity.
Xendra felt a wave of emotions swell up with in her. Red's ways were so different from there's maybe that was the problem between them .Xendra respected Red's abilties and her fierce loyalty but killing defenseless men had no place in the Amazon way.
Xendra was conflicted .Even within her own thoughts she found no definite answer.
As Xendra reached the tree once more she thought" I don’t think I could never bring myself to slay a defenseless enemy no matter how vile… but yet I am grateful Red had the fortitude to do what I could not.Atleast we are safe for the moment.”
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/22/03 9:26 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:37:43 GMT -6
1 Xwpfan
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(6/20/03 10:19 am)
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First watch (continued)
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As Xendra reclimbed the tree, her thoughts returned to her renaming and found peace within hersellf at long last.
With so much to think about, Xendra knew sleep would not be a problem.Xendra was fully alert and awake.
Xendra decided as she watched the rest of them slumbering peacefully that since she was so alert that she would do the second watch as well.
The woods finally fell silent,save the sounds of mumurings and light snoring from the group below. As they slept Xendra pondered in her heart about many things; the least of which were all of Red’s deeds;good and bad.
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/22/03 9:26 pm
EvergreenLM
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(6/21/03 8:13 am)
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A Horse is a Horse of Course
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“Hold still!...by the gods …stop this!”
Every time the shiny black booted foot was placed in the stirrup the horse twisted and danced away from the frustrated rider.
“Okay, she said I rode into the village on you, but now…now…I am chasing you like a bird for bug.”
The horse turned it long neck peering back with wild eyes and ears pitched back in confusion as to the scent and the sight. It sensed the purpose of the journey of the rider, and did not understand…not at all.
The face was the same as was the voice, but something was so very different. The smell of the enemy was close at hand and she walked and talked among the soldiers of death as if one with them.
“Alright…let’s try this one more time…” reins were drawn taunt,leather boot toe met metal, and the rider swung up on the horse’s back settling in with hips jaunting towards the pommel.
Again the horse nervously danced from side to side, head bobbing up and down snorting disapproval. Dust rose as the hot breath met the ground. The bit jerked the neck up, and at the precise moment boot heels dug into its side, the horse made the decision to do it.
“Ahhhhhhh.” The rider sailed into the air as the horse bucked kicking up its hind quarters.
With forearms behind her for balance, the rider sat dazed for a moment staring at the horse who was staring back at her. Slowly standing back up, others nearby could hear the metal being drawn from the scabbard as the rider meant to win this battle of wills.
The horse’s dark pupils dilated in fear as feathery eyelashes blinked, hoping the person it knew, and gladly carry into death itself, would return. The confusion only served to heighten the fear, but the tri colored painted beast ceased its motion, now standing still…waiting.
The sharp tip of blade met the large vein coursing through a sheath of bulging neck muscle. The horse did not move. In the moment preceding a gushing death, something in the woman’s face went soft as her head cocked slightly to the side.
“Whisperer?”
Evergreen/Leara told of the incident to Vassaly as they sat in the courtyard sharing their evening meal. She told how she spared the horse and had given the order that no harm should come to it…it was to be ridden by no one…except Vassaly…it was hers now…her horse and hers alone.
Vassaly thanked her dinner companion for the gift…and for sparing the horse, adding that she was grateful that Leara could not have slaughtered an innocent beast so easily. She went on to ask why there was need to be riding that particular horse, as EG/Leara had not ridden since their arrival.
EG/Leara placed the vanilla colored napkin in her lap, and sat her folded hands on the table. For what seemed a lifetime, dark eyes locked on the face of the woman…her friend.
Reaching out, she took the utensil from Vassaly’s hand sitting it down on the black and gold veined marbled tabletop. Picking up a crust of bread from her own plate, EG/Leara tossed it down to the little dog not moving from its spying place under the bench where it lay. It too sensed the secret.
Returning her gaze to gray eyes of the one who knew the value of patient silence with this dark and often contemplative companion, EG/Leara spoke with great deliberation of words.
“A legionnaire came upon a group of men…a band of marauders actually… who had been brutally killed. One, however, remained hiding deep in the hollow of a log, and was witness to it all.”
“They were not without getting their just punishment for what they had planned for the women. I too would have had them executed. It is just that…that…the women…the ones who poisoned them...the one who returned and killed them with an expression of great joy…were Amazons…and by description, are the ones I seek”.
“I believe the one who came back for the judging was the woman they call Evergreen. This Amazon mother wants brought back alive to be executed in the coliseum for all of Rome to bear witness to judgment for the slaying of my father.”
“You are going to leave and go after them aren’t you? Aren’t you?”
Vassaly, with an expression of anger not seen before this time, threw down her napkin from her lap, stood up, and went to the entrance of the portico.
Without turning around, she softly spoke. “When do you leave?”
The intonation of the response was heavy and flat. “Tomorrow…before first light.”
"We're stuff of the soul Gabrielle."
Edited by: EvergreenLM at: 6/21/03 8:43 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:38:48 GMT -6
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(6/22/03 7:14 am)
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Who will take the third watch?
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Xendra sat perched in the trees for several hours
keeping a careful watch over the camp.
Other than Red's return the night 's watch had been pleasantly uneventful.Xendra checked the moon's postion it was time for the third and final watch of the night. Xendra reluctanly climbed down from the tree and headed towards the sleeping bodies.
If Xendra had her way she wouldn't wake any of them,but she knew she had to get a little sleep before they broke camp in the morning.
Xendra looked around who was she going to ask?
Zena was sound asleep and needed to be fresh and alert to lead the group.
Xendra then looked over at Gabby and the slavegirl,both were very eager but far too young and inexperienced still.
Xendra looked long and hard at Red, who was asleep and whose bruise was becoming even more visble. Xendra knew Red would protect them with her life but who else could lose their life to her?Xendra shook her head No.There had been far too much senseless killing that night already.
Xendra looked at Boudicca, she was face down and did not look very warrior like at the moment. Xendra wondered if she ought to offer her the watch duty, but then thought perhaps she should wait til she knew more about her.
Xendra looked around,that left Phalon or Puella. Xendra knew Phalon would be vigilant about watching but Xendra paused as she saw that Phalon was asleep, clutching a sword. Such odd behavior for her.
That left Puella.Xendra slowly walked over to where Puella was nestled in her bedroll. Xendra cautiously leaned over and whispered, "Puella."
Puella mumbled back,"Hmm wha?"
Xendra whispered,"I need you to take the third watch."
As Puella sat up rubbing her eyes she whispered back, "Sure,just give me a moment to wake up here."
Xendra nodded and waited in silence.
Once fully awake,Xendra showed Puella the sentry post in the tree. Xendra happily reported to her that Red was now with them in camp and there should be noone else to enter the camp, that night except of course, Evergreen.
Puella nodded and began to climb the tree.
Xendra slowly walked back to the fire ring. When she got there she realized the fire was now nearly embers so she put another log on just to keep the warmth going a little while longer.
Xendra stretched and yawned and laid own onto her bedroll.
Xendra's eyes fluttered as she laid there looking up at the blanket of stars above her. The racing thoughts in her mind quieted as she began to drift off to a world a dreams and secret messages.
As Xendra's mind was over taken by dreams, she could see the parchments from the three letters that she had written before she had turned Evil.
One parchemnt was shrouded in a golden hue dangling just beyond her reach.
A voice boomed out,” The God’s wish to thank you and have decided that there was a request left unfulfilled . Though you gave your answer once, the God’s are willing to let you choose once more. It is up to You to remember and to make your request known.Remember... Chose wisely and well the fate of those you love may hang in the balance."
Suddenly the parchment dissappeared and the voice faded.
Xendra sat up with a start and had a feeling that there was
something vitally important about her dream.
Xendra curled her arms around her knees and closed her eyes trying to to piece together the vision, or even remember the dream but it was gone.
..there is only one success... to be able to spend your life your own way.
Edited by: 1 Xwpfan at: 6/22/03 9:37 pm
Zena 1
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Posts: 679
(6/23/03 6:33 pm)
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To Sleep Perchance To Dream
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“You gave your word!” Zena sat up and gulping for air and shoving her blanket roughly down past her thighs. Long moments past as she regained the rhythm of her breathing, the tension in her hands transfered to the blanket. Looking down she thought “If this blanket were a living thing I would have crushed it to death by now!” Carefully she relaxed her hold and rubbed the blood flow back into her stiff fingers. Camp was at peace. She remained where she was but silently took a count of each body sleeping deeply around her.
“I wish I slept as soundly as they do. Phalon, all curled up in a ball.” Zena did not see the sword under the fabric cutting into Phalon’s hands as she dreamt.
“Gabs. Probably has Little Dog with her.” She had not noticed the that the little fellow had left the group shortly after Evergreen.
“Red, sprawled out like she’s in the softest bed. Red. She had murder in her eyes back there. Maybe she learned something. We got away without shedding blood and brought them down a peg or two. Surely she saw the value in that.” There was much that was hidden from Zena that night.
“Boudicca, Kaia, Xendra. Xendra. The watch must have changed. Puella must be on guard. She has changed since she was a Roman slave. I remember when I gave her my word that she could count on me. Word. I gave my word.” For a heartbeat she saw his face again and then it was gone. “Who is that?? And WHAT did I promise?"
She ran her hands through her curls and pushed them away from her face. “I need a haircut. I’ll get Evergreen...” Zena shook her head as if the saddness would come out of her by shaking and pulled her knees up, hugging them to her chest as she did when she was a child. Across the fire ring from her Xendra suddenly sat up and mirrored Zena’s position. They exchanged a glance and both knew that their dreamscapes were haunting their sleep. Puella heard the rustle of their movement and looked down from her position in the tree. She cooed softly and Zena answered in kind. Tipping her head back she nodded to Puella and in graceful silence they changed places from ground to tree where Zena kept the final watch until the first pink of daybreak crept into the clear sky. Hidden there in the leafy world of the Amazons she shared a place with the dozing birds and planned her future.
Zena
"Agere Sequitur Esse"
Edited by: Zena 1 at: 6/23/03 6:40 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:39:32 GMT -6
phalon1
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Posts: 1264
(6/23/03 11:01 pm)
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Faces (Part III)
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Phalon understood that her dream was not really a dream at all. It wasn’t some figment of her imagination; something conjured up by an overtired, over active mind, and a belly full of bad cooking eaten too late in the evening. It was an event, being played back to her courtesy of the sword she held in her hands as she fell asleep; real, she was sure, in its authenticity, but the when and where of it was not known to her.
She found herself in a grassy field, the air cool with a crisp, damp breeze, blowing the wildflowers as if they were playfully dancing to music, stopping occasionally as the breeze died to catch their breath. Further out in front of her, she saw that the field ended at a cliff, and below the red sandstone wall, lay the sea, sometimes as playful as the breeze in the wildflowers, other times as cold and unforgiving as the sword that brought her here.
The place was familiar, though she could not recall ever being here. She knew though, without turning, that behind her, to the right, was a rocky hill and on top of that hill sat a castle, its single turret seeming out of place and harsh, ominously jutting darkly into the bright blue sky. The arched gateway leading into the courtyard and gabled windows, smiling back at all they overlooked, gave away, though, that this was a happy place.
She also knew, that behind her to her left was a narrow path, strewn with pebbles that hurt tender bare feet, that led to a small hamlet nestled in a glen which the castle overlooked, keeping watch from its place on the hill.
A sound came to her as she stood, lost in her thoughts, pondering why she knew all this to be fact. The lilting sound of laughter. She brought her hand up to shield her eyes from the afternoon sun, and realized she still held the sword in her hands. Instead she squinted, trying to find the sound’s source. There in front of her, quite near the cliff, she spied two young girls holding hands and turning circles, dancing and leaping through the flowers and tall grass. They sang a song, the melody and words lost to her in the wind, but the sound, intermingled with the laughter, was some of the sweetest music Phalon had ever heard.
The music though, was quickly interrupted and drowned out by gruff voice, uttered in a tongue she did not understand, seeming to come from where she was standing. Frantically, she spun around, glad for the sword in her hand, and forgetting this was a dream in which she had no control over the outcome. She saw no one, and puzzled, began to walk to where the girls had abruptly stopped their play.
As she drew nearer, the girls backed away, until there was no more earth left for them on which to stand. They stood at the edge of the cliff and screamed, clutching one another, eyes wild in fear. She tried to calm them, tried to explain she did not mean harm, but the words would not come. In horror, she remembered this was not her dream, and that, once again, she was looking through the eyes of the sword bearer. And the sword bearer did mean them harm.
She awoke to the feel of cold steel biting into her palms. Abruptly she sat up, and raising the sword in front of her, caught her own reflection in a blade tinged red with her own blood. She stared at her eyes reflected in the steel and saw the same wild look of fright that she had just witnessed. Those eyes, though the same as hers, softened as the lines around them faded, and her face grew fuller, cheeks rosy and fresh and free from the wear that years on the road seeing things that she’d only imagined in nightmares as a child put on it. The face she stared at was hers. But, it was also theirs.
Edited by: phalon1 at: 6/23/03 11:07 pm
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Post by Joxcenia on Jun 23, 2004 23:40:50 GMT -6
BhenRudha
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Posts: 252
(6/23/03 11:30 pm)
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No Peace in Either Dreams or Dawn
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She clawed her way out of a darkness that she was certain was a nightmare. Half fragments and twisted emotions stirred her gut, but try as she might, she could not regain a hold of them. Breathing deeply, she took stock of the here and now . . . dew clinging to the grass beneath her, a hint of rain in the morning breeze, the faint pop of a dying ember . . . she opened her eyes to see the light of false dawn and sighed. She had barely slept, and now her body was telling her it was time to be up.
Sitting up carefully against the twinge in her back, Bhen Rudha rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked around the campsite. It appeared that everyone was still sleeping, with the exception of Zena, who was keeping last watch. Probably in the tree, though the Amazon leader was hidden from her view. And Xendra, who was sitting up at her bedroll. She was not surprised to see Xendra awake, she remembered the flow of energy that had passed to the Amazon along with her name.
Running her fingers through her short hair, she let her thoughts wander back through the night before . . . the run through the woods, the wash in the stream, the last man she had confronted, one who had leered so possessively at Gabby, crying as she promised him death . . .
A rush of heat tinted her cheeks as she remembered the hunt. Though the men had been incapacitated, it had nonetheless, felt like freedom indeed to be able to hand out so much justice, so much vengeance. She had been nearly swept away by the feral thrill of it.
Someone murmured in her sleep and Bhen Rudha turned her head to watch Phalon curl tighter around the naked sword she held so tightly in her hands. Seeing the seeress brought back memories of her last few moments of consciousness.
“We need not expect those bandits to follow us, do we?” she had asked, after wiping a trace of blood of the Red Woman’s face.
“Ye be sleepin’ well this nigh’, Phalon,” she had replied, knowing full well that it had been a rhetorical question. She had then rolled over on the grass and resolutely closed her eyes to sleep, not wanting to deal with all the implications of her actions till she had had some rest.
The fact remained, however, that Phalon knew. Probably knew everything she had done that night. Bhen Rudha wondered what the day would bring, though she vaguely remembered seeing no judgement in those dark green eyes. She knew that most of the others would definitely not approve of what she did. But until she could talk with the seeress, she could not let herself worry overmuch.
Her back twinged again, announcing forcefully that it was not happy sleeping on the bare ground without so much as a bed fur. With a deep breath, she straightened her legs and bent over then, grabbing her trews to pull her as far down as she could go. Exhaling slowly, she was eventually rewarded with a snap deep in her lower back.
As some of the tension in her back faded, she drew her legs up and removed her boots. Her feet were still tender and it would be a while before they were toughened up again. After making certain that her feet were not too badly cut up from the hunt, she rolled to her knees and stood. Muscles in her legs protested, and she groaned softly. She did not like being so out of shape. Well, the morning was as good a time to work on the problem as any.
Bhen Rudha waved an acknowledgment to Xendra and Zena, then headed a short distance into the brush that surrounded the campsite. Blinking the crimson veil over her eyes to see clearly in the greyness of false dawn, she looked about for a stout branch. She needed something about sword length, with some weight, and hopefully still green enough to be flexible. Luckily, it was not long till she found something mostly suitable recently broken from a tree on the ground.
After she had her makeshift practice sword cleaned of twigs and loose bark, she returned to the clearing’s edge, well away from the fire and the ring of sleeping bodies. She tossed the branch to the side, away from her, wiped her feet in the grass and settled in a wide stance. Taking a deep breath, she began a series of stretches.
She moved slowly, consciously, easing the ache out of muscles no longer used to the rigors she had recently put them through. Her awareness of the outside world fell away, turned itself inward, and listened intently to the language of her own body. It had been a long time since she had been allowed to move through the exercises she had first learned from her Mother.
Rolling her head, her neck snapped loudly, surprising a grunt out of her. Her back pulled in response, so she arched backward, hands braced on her hips, carefully tightening the muscles along her spine till she felt another crack.
Breathing deeply, she straightened from her backbend and gingerly twisted her torso to see if anything else needed to be worked back into place. Satisfied so far with her handiwork, she started stretching her legs, warming them until they stopped complaining.
When the last tension flowed down her legs and out through her feet, the Red Woman stood, breathing slowly, and looked up at the sky, blinking away the crimson veil. Streaks of color were just beginning to arch across the horizon, announcing the sun’s immanent arrival. She searched the place within where the Goddess waited. Tears glistened in her eyes when she found, yet again, only silence.
She had thought, desperately hoped, that last night would have changed things. What could she have possibly done to deserve such a punishment?
Angrily she threw herself sideways into a roll. It was a flashy move, used mostly in practice where form could overtake function. She gained her feet with the practice weapon held firmly before her in a two handed grip. An imaginary foe readied himself before her, and she attacked, the wood blurring as she slashed the air.
She worked out her frustration by using all her fanciest, most difficult moves. Spinning, leaping, flipping she visualized her opponent scrambling to keep pace, barely able to escape. Part of her lamented the fact that she did not have a real sword and enemy, though it did feel good to test techniques that had remained unused for so long.
Bhen Rudha danced with her invisible partner as the sun rose, till her breathing became ragged with the exertion. “Eascaine tú,” she growled finally, then ended the fight with a slice across an imaginary throat.
Leaning on her practice sword, she struggled to regain her breath and slowly became aware of a pair of eyes on her. Turning her head, she caught Zena’s gaze, suddenly acutely conscious of the bruise on her cheek. She wiped the sweat from her brow and straightened, lifting her weapon in salute. Then the Red Woman turned and headed for the nearby stream for a quick morning wash, unaware of those others, if any, who had been watching.
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