THE ZENA SCROLLS: CHAPTER III

[Evergreen]

The remaining barrels were unloaded from the wagon and rolled into a small barn that leaned heavily to one side. Tall trees, like sentinels standing guard, lined one side of the structure. Their branches grew in a pattern away from the continuous shore wind.

The old woman had entered the small thatched cottage to find a welcoming fire. A large blackened iron kettle hung above the soft flames in the hearth. The scent of broth filled the air.

A small bouquet of wildflowers defying the coming cold season by their prolific blossoms graced a small wooden table. They sat juxtaposition to a candle one quarter spent with wax running and setting in congealed rivulets around the rim of the brass holder. The cottage was warm and welcoming.

Evergreen stood in the open doorway. It was not of her nature to enter without first being invited. She stood watching the old woman touching a golden amulet dangling from a long piece of leather. It glittered as it hung from a small wooden peg driven into the wall next to the hearth. The old woman sighed deeply and appeared lost in thought as she caressed the medal.

The warrior felt that she was intruding on a private moment and cleared her throat to announce her presence. The old woman turned, looked for a long time at the woman framed in the doorway as if searching for recognition. She then smiled as her reverie was broken and extended her hand giving the awaited invitation to enter.

“Come in…come in…it seems my daughter-in-law has prepared a wonderful gift for us,”she said pulling out a small wooden chair and motioned for the warrior woman to sit.

Evergreen obeyed as she watched the old woman rummaging in a small cabinet. Two wooden bowls were retrieved, a large metal ladle and two smaller ones of wood…Zena’s scoops, thought Evergreen… were brought to the table.

Next appeared large slabs of cheese, a round loaf of bread with a powdery coating, and a small keg which when poured out into two mugs contained wine as dark as venous blood.

The incongruous pair sat in silence as they ate. Both were lost in their own private thoughts.

Evergreen was the first to speak. “You live here alone?" she asked as she surveyed the greatest of the three rooms in which she was seated.

“Your daughter-in-law…grandchildren…they too live with you?”

The wine was bold and rich. The liquid relaxed Evergreen as much as her new surroundings. She felt a kinship with the owner of the cottage.

The old woman laughed as she followed the same visual route as the warrior woman. “And where dear new friend do ya think they might be a stayin’? No pegs large enough for youngins' in them walls do ya see?”

Evergreen smiled mentally noting a small solitary cot behind a partially drawn muslin curtain.

“No…my son’s wife and his henny brood live down the shore line a bit. She,Alisa, checks on me…would prefer for me to join them…thinkin’ I’ll burn me self out some day or fall into a sinkin' hole and starve before I’m founded.” The old woman’s eyes danced as she replayed her obstinate conversations with her daughter-in-law.

“Your son, Grandmother…where would he be?”

For the first time, Evergreen saw a cloud cross the old woman’s face. She placed her bread down. When the old woman did not answer, the warrior woman pushed her plate away.

“I…I’m sorry. It was not polite of me to ask. I have no right…you have only treated me with kindness and I…”

Gnarled fingers pushed the plate back again as she interrupted. “No, 'tis a fair question…it would not be a secret. A great hurt that it be, but the truth will be truth.” She stood and ladled another hot portion of broth into her guest’s bowl.

“My son…well…there not be much of a livin’ to be had growin’ grapes…sellin’ wine at the market. Enough for me ya see, but not for a man to properly care for a family. He left ... left for a soldierin’…a Roman soldierin’. It pays well…enough to care for a family. At first, a courier came as reglar’ as the mornin’ sun with a leather of coins. And then they came no more.”

Silence again filled the room.

“ I don’t think he’ll be a comin’ back…a mother knows these things.”

Evergreen drank deeply from her mug not stopping until it was drained. In her warrior's heart she replayed her part in killing so many young Romans in battle. With her appetite now gone, she stood.

Quietly, not looking at her benefactor, she said, “I will go for more wood. The air is chilled and the night will be long.”

The warrior turned and left. As she stepped outside, Evergreen looked up to the night sky and uttered a silent oath to the rising golden moon… By Athena's blessing, have my sword be clean of his blood.


Edited to fix font. ~~Joxcee~~

[Zena]

He came again in her dreams, entreating her to keep the promise she had made to him on the steps of the temple of the war god. His persistence was wearing her down and although she always forgot his name upon awakening, it was closer to the surface of her conscious each time.
“Tell them. Tell them Flavius Gaeus will...”
“ZENA!” Phalon’s voice cut the dream cord and she was instantly back in the small house.
Phalon put her index finger to a very bewildered and rudely awakened Zena’s lips as she tried to respond.
“Shhhh, Zena”, she whispered in the darkness. “It’s me…Phalon. Someone’s in the other room threatening Apollo. He’s in danger, Zena."
Zena vaulted over a chair leaving Phalon to untwist her skirt. She saw the shadow of the dagger against the wall flickering oddly from the light of the fire and gripped the wrist that held it as Apollo called “SUMIRE” from his position on the other side of the table.
“Sumire?” Zena was astonished at the transformation the foreign woman had undergone. But not so astonished that she loosened her grip. She noted that there was strength under the sleeve and a skillfully positioned grip on the dagger.
“Who in Tartarous ARE you??” And where was the fragile woman of beautiful silks and fans?
Since Zena showed no sign of releasing her hold and Bartok was beginning to turn blue once again from Sumire’s knee in his back, Sumire began to relax her arm. It was almost, Zena mused later, as if she could control each small muscle in every part of her hand and arm, relaxing each in turn. It would be good to know the skill of this control.
As they broke apart, Sumire placed the dagger on the table and with one hand yanked Bartok to a seat. Zena smiled at Apollo who was now enfolded in Phalon’s arms and squirming to get his hands back on the sword she had taken from his grasp. She turned her head from the two to gaze at Bartok who was recovering, thinking perhaps she should watch in case Sumire decided to snap his head off quietly while Zena wasn’t looking. The table made a good a place to lean and she lounged against it with her arms folded.
“Well Bartok, you just won’t stay put. What are we going to do with you?”
“Amazon bit...(gak)” Sumire applied a little pressure to his windpipe.
“Ooops. Wrong attitude Bartok.” She grinned at Sumire.
“Seriously, we do have to do something with him."
They all spoke at once.
Apollo squeaked, “Give him to the Romans."
Phalon sighed, “He’s beset by the Furies. He needs to be somewhere where he can’t hurt anyone.
Sumire shrugged, “Kill him.”
“As tempting as the last opinion might be, Phalon is right. He’s being driven mad. He should get a fair trial but first he must be sane enough to understand.”
“Fair trial?”, Sumire arched an eyebrow. “He does not deserve this.”
“Everyone in Greece is entitled to a fair trial. It is our way."
Sumire bowed slightly “I do not understand this foreign justice. If he is found without blame?"
Zena shrugged. “It may happen but we will be without blame in our dealings with him. When we leave tomorrow..or that is, today...I will take him with us. The next town has a hospice run by the Sisters of Gaia and they will do their best to heal his mind and soul so that when the judge visits he will be ready for trial.” She stood up and grabbing a length of rough rope from a peg on the wall she tied Bartok firmly to the chair. Seeing that his eyes were on the dagger on the table she slid it to Sumire and bent to whisper in his ear, “I wouldn’t make her angry, I’m really tired and I intend to sleep through the next commotion here tonight.” She left the room hoping that the blanket she had left was still warm and missed Apollo’s open mouthed expression. He looked up at Phalon and tears were gathering in his eyes.
“LEAVE? Auntie Phalon, where are you going??”

[Phalon]

“Leave? Auntie Phalon, where are you going?” Unable to hold back the welling tears, he finally let loose and started to cry softly.

“Oh, Apollo”, Phalon said quietly, pulling a chair out from the table. “Come here, child, and sit with me.” She gathered the little boy in her arms and sat him on her lap, seating him so he faced her. “Come now, Apollo sweetie, you really didn’t think we were going to stay here forever, did you?”

He nodded his head up and down, and a small sob escaped his lips. “But I don’t want you to leave. I want you, an’ Zee, an’ Sumi, an’ Red – even though she’s kinda scary - and everybody to stay here wif me. Why, Auntie Phalon…why do you all have to go away?”

Phalon cradled his face in her hands, and using her thumbs wiped the tears from his eyes and his cheeks. The soft skin of a child - not yet toughened by weather or work, by age…by life – how do you explain to them – to those you love, why you have to leave them? “Do you…”, she began, her voice starting to crack. She paused, swallowed hard, trying to choke back the lump forming in her throat. She started again.

“Apollo, do you remember all those stories I’ve told you…the one where Gabby and I dressed as gypsies to get into the Roman camp? And when Blackwolf and I were lost in the hallway of doors? And when Zena was convinced she was a sea goddess? And all the other ones?”

The little boy nodded, his eyes revealing a glimmer of excitement behind the tears. “You like adventures, don’t you, Apollo?” He nodded again, and Phalon continued. “Well then, if we all stayed here, then what new adventures would I have to tell? You’d know everything already, and where’s the fun in that?”

He put his chin in his hand and narrowed his eyes, intently pondering this great dilemma his Aunt had laid forth. “I guess you’re right”, he said slowly, after giving it as much thought as a boy of almost five years of age could give.

“And you know what else?” Phalon added. “You and I, Apollo…we are alike. Both adventure seekers, eh? I’ll make a deal with you. When I come back, you and I will swap adventure stories, okay?”

“Deal”, he agreed, eagerly. His tears subsided and Phalon imagined she could see the ideas forming in his head. Quickly, she added, “You just remember to get the okay from your Mom and Dad before setting off on any of these great adventures you are planning, okay?”

He was a bit slow to respond, and Phalon said louder, “Okay?” poking him in the ribs.

“Okay, okay, okay”, he said between giggles. He looped his arms around her neck. “I love you, Auntie Phalon. You are my most favoritest aunt.”

“Apollo, you silly, I am your only aunt.”

She tickled him again and whispered into his ear, “And you, Apollo, are my most favorite almost five year old nephew. I promise you, I’ll come back.” She held on to him tightly for a moment, then sighed.

She held her face close to his so that their noses touched. “And I suppose", she said smiling, "that it’s time we untie my most favorite brother, who happens to be your most favorite father." She nodded in the direction of the darkest corner of the room. Bartok had tied Gelasuis, who was supposed to be guarding him, to a chair after he escaped his binds, and had effectively gagged him by stuffing one of her stockings that had been drying by the fire into his mouth. At least the sock was clean, she mused.

She and her brother had made eye contact prior to her conversation with Apollo, and she knew he was not all too happy that she’d left him there, helpless, while she sat with his son. But what is more important – soothing an upset child, or nursing the broken ego of a grown man? And besides…

He had caught up to her that day in the meadow when they were children. He’d tackled her, tied her hands in front of her with a piece of twine he pulled from his pocket, and pulled her along by the tail end of the rope, fully intending for her to become his “slave” and complete the daily chores he failed to start. She’d escaped, of course…they were still little kids, she was older then he, and the time had not come yet when he’d surpass her in both height and strength. And she had not told her parents, for though they were rivals as most siblings were, they shared the compassion of family, as well as the secrets of childhood, and she knew that if she told she lose her favorite playmate until the time her parents determined he’d learned his lesson - which could be a very long time. Instead she’d helped him finish the chores willingly.

But she’d not gotten back at him either – retaliated the way children do, and with the dream of that day still fresh in her mind, she couldn’t resist leaving him there tied up when she saw him. Revenge – even thirty years later – can be sweet.

He glared at her as she walked towards him. Not too fiercely though, for she saw a tiny twinkle in his eyes behind the feigned anger. It’s a damn good thing that we are leaving in the morning, she thought. Revenge may be sweet, but paybacks are the stuff of Tartarus. She laughed out loud, possibly for the first time that day.

[Zena]

There was little to pack: an extra shirt and pants, some writing parchment and a quill, and of course the weapons. She set the leather bags by the door and sat down at the table to write a note. Gabby could sleep a little longer. The parchment had been tightly rolled and so she spread her left hand across it to hold it out as she wrote. There was a shaft of sunlight just creeping across the table and she slid the note into the light.

“Dear Phalon,
By the gods, I will miss you! I can understand why you want to stay here, it is warm and comfortable in so many ways. If I had such a family I would never wander again. It is because of this longing that I have for a home that Gabby and I must set out to find Evergreen. I will not tell you where I sent her in case her enemies return, and to keep you safe from the burden of that knowledge.
Your faithful friendship has been a comfort to me and I am not sure how we will do without your special sight AND sword. But as we part, be sure that I will always treasure these days we had in peace.
Please give Kaisa the enclosed set of scoops I carved for her. They can be used to measure..it is all I have to give..a poor gift for her hospitality.
Until we meet again I remain your friend,
Zena

She rolled the parchment aroound the scoops and gathering her courage, went to the moment she had been dreading, the waking of Gabby.

[gabbyfan4ever]

Gabby's sleep that night was far from restful. Fighting with her mother was an uncommon occurance, and the yelling match that had happened that night was even more rare. Then there were her legs. She could finally feel them, thanks to Red, and Gabby was so much more than grateful for that. It gave her hope for walking again soon. However that meant she had to feel a small portion of the pain as well. It was not unbearable by any means, but rather an uncomfortable feeling that made finding sleep difficult. Gabby laid in bed trying to make her brain stop thinking about anything, but there were too many worries. Where was Evergreen? What had made her mother so upset in the first place? What would happen if Red and Zena couldn't ever get along? These questions were some that were at the forefront of her mind. Eventually the girls physical and mental weariness won out over all the concerns, and Gabby found the sleep she had been seeking.

It seemed as if she had only just closed her eyes when a familiar voice called her back to the waking world. She opened her eyes without fear for she knew that voice was her mothers. Zena smiled down at her, and brushed a strand of hair from her daughters face. It was a smile that could not conceal the look of worry around Zena's eyes. Seeing the questioning look on Gabbys face, Zena took a breath and told her why she had woken her up.

"Gabs sweetie, it's time for us to go. As soon as I get you ready we're going to leave the village."
Gabby let out a small sigh of relief that nothing was wrong. She always knew that this was only a temporary place to stay.
"Oh okay Mom, is everyone else ready? I hope Phalon is ok, it must be so hard for her to leave her family again."
Zena hesitated at the question, and a pained look crossed her face.
"Gabby... Phalon isn't going with us. She wants to stay here with her family. Red is staying behind as well."
"What?! Mom we can't just leave them behind! They are a part of...of our tribe! It doesn't matter that they're not amazon."
"Shhhh... quiet now, you'll wake up the family. It's their decision to stay Gabby, and we can't force them to do otherwise. We'll find Xie on the way out, and pick up anyone else who wants to come with us."

Gabby opened her mouth to protest, but was cut short when Zena scooped her up out of bed. "Shh, it'll be alright Gabs. I promise." She laid her head on her mothers shoulder and tried unsuccessfully to hold back the tears. "They really don't want to come with us.... with me??"

[Zena]

“Oh sweetie, it isn’t a decision AGAINST you! Sh..shh..please don’t cry."
Somehow young ones think that they are the center of all of life..the cause and effect of everything. Zena buried her face in Gabby’s hair and tried to sound comforting.
“We all have to choose our paths and sometimes they are not the easy ones. Our path takes us back to Evergreen and to the sea again. Phalon has roots here and I suspect Red will want to stay here too. We need to put down our own roots in our own place, maybe a vinyard and a little hut by the sea. Evergreen is waiting out there somewhere for us. And you and I...."
She set the girl on her feet and steadied her with strong arms.
“You and I...” she whispered as she placed her hands on the sides of Gabby’s face and gazed into her eyes, “are off on yet another great adventure! The Amazon Warrior Mom and her Amazing Amazon Daughter!” Zena pulled her in and kissed the young woman’s forehead.
Gabby grinned in spite of herself and wiped her nose on her sleeve.
“By the gods, don’t do that! Here...” Zena offered a piece of cloth from her pack. “I call this a wiper. It’s so you don’t have to use your clothes.”
“Ok Mom," Gabby sniffed into the cloth. "But I don’t think it will catch on when your sleeve is right there.”
“Well, you never know. Get dressed now. I want to be gone before the family is up, otherwise we’ll never get on the road. I’ll take the packs down to the stable and get the horses ready."
Gabby nodded slowly and sighed.
When she reached the door Zena looked back. “If you want to leave anyone a letter I left some parchment and a quill on the table.” She grabbed the back of Bartok’s shirt and pushed him out into the damp pre-dawn air. The leather bags creaked as she hoisted them up and Gabby heard Bartok mutter to himself as their footsteps faded from her hearing.

[Evergreen]

It was just a small alcove. Off to the left was the remnants of what appeared to have been a tack room in its day. What once must have been a leather halter of quality lay cracked from lack of oiling. Ornately carved silver buckles adorning the head piece were tarnished and dull. A saddle sat upon the gate of a long empty stall as if waiting for the horse and rider who placed it there to return.

“There you go. What a fine place this could be Whisperer. Tonight we will sleep under a roof instead of the stars.”

The horse softly nickered and bobbed its head as if in agreement to the arrangements.

Evergreen rummaged through a burlap sack and found a curry comb. Slowly, she brushed the length of the muscled animal speaking in soothing tones. They had been together now for eight years.

Like his owner, Whisperer displayed scars, badges of courage, testimony to never leaving his beloved rider when all his instinct warned of danger and to run from battle. But they were different in one respect. Evergreen’s scars were worn without and within. Places that only Zena knew of so well and could map the emotional topography. And places so deep that only one other could administer a soothing balm and whose arrival came in the stillness of the night and in dreams.

A small rapping came from the darkness that had fallen. A muted yellow light flickered in and out of the slats of the door that was back lit by the now risen moon.

“Yes?”

“ I be havin some clothes for ye…and a bit o soap. Water been heated over the hearth. Salt water to soak away your travels.”

Evergreen had opened the door to find the old woman holding a candle, two pair of breeches and three tunics of muted blue, gray and white. Strung over her wrist like an odd bracelet, was a pair of soft short boots hanging from a small cord laced through their top loops.

“You looked like you would be in need of clean clothin’…your body as well… looks like you be chasin’ down a ham hock still a livin’ on the hoof…chasin’ it right down into the slop yard.” The old woman softly laughed at her own joke.

The warrior woman smiled knowing the old woman’s blunt assessment came from good intentions. She reached out and gratefully accepted the garments. Evergreen was stunned by the softness of the fabrics. The dark brown boots, given next, were a sharp contrast to the brittle tack behind her. The boots were supple, well tended, and made of fine grained leather.

The old woman patted the clothes. “They were…were my son’s. He was not a large man in stature, but a man he was…indeed.”

Gently stroking the dark brown boots, she quietly whispered, “He won’t be a needed these no more…please…I know he would have wanted to give them to ya. That’s the kind ‘o man he was. Never could figure him a wantin’ to go to a solderin’. But he thought it a right thingin’ to do…to take proper care of his family and all.”

“Thank you grandmother, I am moved by your kindness to a stranger such as myself.”

“Well come now…back to the house before I have to heat the water all over again. And…” she said in a most perfect and lyrical of language…“ a heart can freely give when it finds another one open and ready to receive unexpected gifts.”

The two stepped out into the cool night air. “Look there Warrior Woman.” A gnarled finger pointed skyward to a burst of light that streaked through the night sky leaving in its passage, a trail of thousands of sparkling specks that rained down like gems tossed from Aphrodite’s own hand.

Evergreen took it as a sign…Zena would soon make her way to this place…to the sea…to her.


Edited to fix font. ~~Joxcee~~

[Sumire]

There was movement, tension and relief in the air. It all seemed to flow around Sumire as she stood paces away from the man she had just tried to kill. Zena had spared his life, declared it worthy of a trial, announced that they would be leaving and then simply left, intent on sleeping.

A pattern of voices wove itself around her. Echos of Zena’s “What in Tartarus ARE you!?!” underscored Bartok’s mutterings and Phalon and little Apollo spoke quietly . They were upset as any family being pulled reluctantly apart would be. She felt the sad smile evaporate as she turned away from them to allow them their private moment. By degrees, overhearing such tender whispers, she felt herself grow colder and colder. She stood still and anchored her eyes on the thin squirming man.

Sumire lost herself in watching Bartok’s fading in and out of lucidity. Somehow this had become preferable than to hear Phalon’s moments with her nephew and brother. Sumire thought she might have heard Phalon’s laughter in the growing distance. Another sliver of ice turned in her chest as she saw she had been left alone with a mad man.


Where the was a poignancy in not sharing what Phalon and her family, watching Bartok squirm against his bindings began to fill that hollow with anger. She didn’t quite understand why such a surging of emotion should bother her. He was pitiable and helpless. His madness had rendered him unbalanced and no real challenge to her. So weak and defenseless against anything she wished to do to him. Her eyes traced over his ragged form again and the mild look of distaste she wore on her face faltered. This time Sumire saw the silk he had wrapped into his dirty layers for the first time. She backed away from him two steps and stopped.

There was a soft hiss of rasping laughter and Sumire narrowed her eyes. She could not tell if it was from the man or the madness in him.

Nothing. It means nothing. She told herself even though her hand reached over her shoulder and her fingers curled around the handle of the katana bundled in the roll slung over her back. There was a knowing behind that leer; something slippery and vile. Was it the man or the demon within? And what if this night was not the first time they had met? What if-

“Nothing” she heard her voice temble in the whisper. Her fingers began to slide from the sword’s handle. I will do nothing. It is not my place.

The answering hiss of laughter was triumphant. “You don’t dare!”

Sumire moved before she hand the sense to stop herself.

*shhhiik*
The succession of sound that was the breath of the katana sliding from it’s sheath, the whip of air being sliced by Kageyama steel and Bartok’s whimper froze her hand.

She let go her breath slowly and turned barely enough to glare at him sidelong. The blade was flat against his neck. Gazing at the pulse of his vein under greasy skin and the trembling of his stubbled chin she finally whispered “Kawaiso”, and turned away. Pathetic

She paced back to where she stood before she had lunged at him. With her back to him she mastered the righteous fury that burned in her chest. Lifting a hand she stared at the sword she held. Sudden realization slammed her in her solar plexus as she finally understood what she had just done. She held a sword. The fact that she did not yet kill with it, hardly even mattered. She, a woman, had wielded a sword. Her prince’s sword. The prince she let die.

Slowly she sank to her knees but she could not let go of the sword. She stared at it dumbly. It felt like her skin was burning away and still she could not open her hand and let it go. “Kore-“ This- She choked back anything else and shook her head. Defiant words in her native language came forth in an urgent whisper.

“No. I am no longer in Kageyama. I carry my own burdens as well as that of my prince now. In one hand I will bear my shame in the other the glory of Kageyama. If you have cursed me to live Sayoko, you’ve cursed me to live for us all.”

Announcing this truth to herself anchored her more than anything else. She lifted her head and turned on a knee to face Bartok.

“Look at me.” She told him. “I will speak to you and your demon.” Barok rolled his eyes toward her and sniveled. The tip of the katana moved in a sinuous curve pointing out the path it would take to his throat. The sword reversed it’s path and she lowered it to her knee, hand lightly resting on the hilt. Her movements were deliberate and he understood that a single lunge was all she needed.

Sumire took care with her words and spoke slowly. “It seems you are in my care tonight. I do not understand the ways of these lands but the idea of your life is more valuable than the sickness I see in front of me.” As if on que the man started sputtering and slurred something she could not understand. She let it go as she continued. “Had you lived in Jappa I would have killed you already. I did not now because someone has spoken for your life such as it is.” The man continued his feverish muttering and she let him. When the muttering finally became sobbing she began speaking again, her voice betrayed the weight of exhaustion.

“My prince, who I served before--.” Sumire lowered her eyes and continued “My prince had a hound that he loved like a brother. You might even say he loved the hound more than his brothers. This dog was a marvelous hunter as well, such that with the Prince’s love and the fame of the hunt the dog may have well been royalty.” Sumire shook her head at the memory

“It was such that as servant of the lords I was severely reprimanded when I failed to address the dog by his title. The prince had named the dog Subaru –for the group of stars that he favored. Since the dog been granted status above me I was to call him Subaru-sama. Only this was not something that I was aware of until after I had made such a grave transgression of disrespect.”

Sumire glanced at Bartok and amazingly he was quiet. She continued. “ After a boar hunt Subaru-sama returned injured, and soon after was mad with sickness. The only suitable answer was to kill the animal. The prince would not let anyone do this and so demanded there be a death ceremony with the whole court in attendance.”

In the silence Sumire lifted her eyes to Bartok. She looked into his eyes and held them there until she was certain she was talking to the man and not his madness.

“ Though I have read of the western ways I still cannot understand them. You are given right to a
trial although I know you do not need one. You have been granted life although it tortures you. You have more of a place here than I do. Take these as blessings if you can stomach them. However, once we leave this house, I can give you something they can’t.”

Carefully she watched the man as new tears traced down his face.

“Say the word, Subaru-sama, and I will give you peace.”

***
It was still dark and a bit cold as Sumire stood outside the stable. She had gathered those things that had been left under her cot a couple of nights before and even found the clothes she had borrowed from Lord Daisuke although in the rush she hadn’t had time to change into them.

It was not long before Zena appeared, pushing Bartok before them and helping the young girl along. Bartok tensed as he saw Sumire but she ignored him. Her eyes were on Zena who paused. Sumire bowed and immediately Zena shook her head and opened her mouth to speak. Before the words came Sumire stepped forward and started speaking.

“Zena-san. Please, I realize it is not my place but I must speak.” Zena’s expression seemed to relay that she had things to do but when Sumire said, “You asked what in Tartarus I am. “ , Zena quirked an eyebrow and let her continue.

“I am- I was a guardian of my royal house in Kageyama. I accompanied my prince here into the Western worlds as he traveled. But now he’s- I- “ Sumire stuttered to a stop and after a quick breath she was able to speak again but could not keep the shame from her voice. “It is unfortunate but My Lord died in my service. I did what I could but it was not enough. This is something I will live with and upon my return to Kageyama I will answer for it.”

Sumire lifted her eyes and held Zena gaze “Until that day I am here, no longer bound by a lord but bound by my duty.” Without taking her intent gaze form Zena she pointed at Bartok “Forgive me for saying so, but I cannot let you and your daughter travel alone with this man-demon.” She inclined her head in a nod of respect to Zena “I have heard of the Amazons and their worth as warriors. The warrior’s skill I trust, but not the guile of demons.

“Onegai, Zena-san” Sumire sank to a knee and bowed down, fist in the dirt in the position of one swearing their allegiance to a Lord. “I lay my hand and body before you as guardian on your travels. Please accept this humble service.”

Sumire kept her head and eyes lowered while she waited for the Amazon’s response.

[Zena]

“Until that day I am here, no longer bound by a lord but bound by my duty.” Sumire’s words were spoken in a measured and serene tone. There was no passion in the sound of her voice because she controlled it as she controlled her body, holding in check feelings so deep and strong that if released could focus and become a bolt of pure energy. Zena heard the passion in the whisper Sumire spoke, the meaning behind the sound, like the opening of the fighting fan she had seen her use.

A feeling rose in Zena too, a sense of solidarity with one who understands and lives by a code, a belief system that requires loyalty. The word “duty” settled in Zena’s heart like a bird come home to it’s roost. Finally someone else understood.

“Perhaps our ways are not as different as you think Sumire and there is much that we can learn from one another.” She looked down at Sumire’s kneeling form and struggled with the subservient posture of the woman from Jappa, knowing that this was an important gesture for her and must be honored.

“I lay my hand and body before you as guardian on your travels. Please accept this humble service,” Sumire offered. After a moment in silence Zena bent forward to offer her hand and Sumire looked up when she saw the open palm. Their gaze met and held firm and the Amazon bowed her head in acknowledgement of the meaning of the kneeling posture. She did not however, pull her hand back.
“Please? It is our way that no equal should bow to another. We, my daughter and I, gratefully accept your gift. Our travels with Bartok will be short for the Sisters of Gaia are only two days ride from here; but should you wish to continue in our company when we are done with him, a third warrior will keep us safer. And, I would enjoy learning of your skills with ....the fan.” Zena smiled and remained with her hand outstretched to lift Sumire up as the warrior woman from Jappa considered her response.

[Phalon]

“Uuhhmph.” The weight of a five year old landed squarely on her chest, forcing the air from her lungs. Little fingers pried open her eyelids, exposing her unfocused eyes to the harsh light of the sun coming in the window. A whisper, exaggerated in its hushed tones, resounded in her ears like the deafening sound of an angry sea crashing against the rocky crags. “Auntie Phaaa-lon? Are you awake? Grandma said it was time to get up.” She cringed…tried to screw her eyes shut at the glaring light and the noise, but the little fingers held firm.

“Apollo!!! I believe my exact words were, ‘Go see if your aunt is awake yet.’ I mentioned nothing about torturing her.” Kaisa walked into the room and stood over Apollo and his victim with her hands on her hips. “Get off your aunt now, child, before you cause her a premature trip to the Elysian Fields.”

Apollo dutifully started to crawl off of Phalon’s cot, a pout starting to form on his lips. “No, he’s ok, Mom.” She sat up and pulled the little boy onto her lap. “I don’t remember ever being woken in quite such a manner.” She smiled at Apollo and his face brightened, beaming back at her as if he’d just accomplished a magnificent feat worthy of praise from the gods.

Kaisa reached down and ruffled Apollo’s hair before sitting on the edge of the cot. “Phalon, this was on the table when I woke. I wasn’t sure what it was so I opened it. It’s for you…I didn’t read all of it…just enough to find out what it was.” She handed the scroll to her daughter.

Phalon could already feel the lump forming in her throat. She knew what the words written on the parchment conveyed from the expression on Kaisa’s face and the tone in her voice. She looked questioningly to her mother who confirmed her thoughts. “Zena’s left with Gabby”, Kaisa said softly.

“Zee’s left?!” Apollo cried out. “Without saying goodbye?” Tears started to well in his eyes, and Phalon squeezed him tight, trying to comfort him, and perhaps herself also. Apparently so, she thought – left without saying goodbye. Out loud, she said, “I’m sure she wanted to, but she had to get on the road early, Apollo. She just didn’t want to wake you.”

She unrolled the parchment. “Dear Phalon, By the gods, I will miss you!...” Her eyes traveled over the words contained in the letter, but they appeared too blurry for her to read most of it just yet, and she told herself it was because her eyes were watery from Apollo prying them open moments ago.

She gathered Zena’s gift to Kaisa and held them out to her. “These are for you, Mom. She calls them scoops, and they’re for…uhm…scooping things.”

Kaisa reached to take the gifts, and in doing so, squeezed Phalon’s hand in a comforting gesture. “Come on, Apollo”, she said, gathering the little boy in her arms. “Let’s go see if these things work for scooping honey onto warm bread.”

She gave her daughter a reassuring smile and took Apollo from the room, leaving Phalon to herself.

Phalon stared out the window at the new day for a moment, the bright sun, (or so she told herself), making her eyes water more profusely. Wiping her eyes on the back of her sleeve, she absentmindedly thought there ought to be something especially for that purpose only. Someday perhaps someone would invent such a thing.

Her eyes a bit clearer now, she reread the scroll. “Stubborn, stubborn woman”, she thought to herself, “insisting on leaving without anyone knowing.” Remembering she’d called Zena stubborn just last night, but using harsher words, she said aloud, “I wanted to apologize, you know, but now it’s too late...you're gone.”

Then Zena’s words came back to her, “Do what you think is right for you. Go where you think you will be happy.”

“I didn’t get the chance to figure it out, Zena.” In her mind the letter made it clear that Zena did not want to be followed. Her eyes started to water anew - from the glare of the sun, of course. “You made the decision for me.”

[Phalon]

So this is it, Phalon thought to herself as she sat cross legged on her cot. This is the end…another chapter of her life has come to a close – but yet left unfinished. She should be used to it by now, she supposed – people coming into her life and staying just long enough for her to grow to care for them – to love them, and when she reached that point, either they – or she, left. She silently ticked off the names in her head…

Athan, her love, ripped from her by the Romans…her family, lost to her for so long, but now found again, except for her dear father, who died during her long years of absence. Even Aisla Soarla - her great aunt Euryale; she’d never got to say goodbye to her either. She didn’t remember much of that time spent with the gypsies – just bits and pieces, but they pulled her out of her despair and madness, and she owed a great deal to them – to her aunt especially…and then, Phalon had just left, though she did not quite remember why. That chapter in her life was blurry, and looking back at it, it was as if she were underwater, looking up towards the surface - her view of it; distorted.

All those people she’d loved were gone.

And now, Evergreen was gone. Zena; gone, Gabby; gone too. She looked around the empty room. Sumire’s cot was neatly made, her belongings gone from underneath it, and she supposed she never would find out what secrets the demure woman in the warrior’s clothing held behind those black eyes. Bhen Rudha had not returned and it did not seem likely that she would; off on her own mission to find what she’d lost of herself. Blackwolf’s cot was empty too, and Xendra’s hadn’t been slept in. Where had those two gone, she wondered, and supposed she may never know.

She sat alone in a house full of people, and for a moment she wallowed in it – her loneliness.

She did not wallow long, however; she was never one for self-pity…and besides, it wasn’t long before Kaisa came bustling into the room, torn between wanting to give her daughter time to herself, and wanting to scoop her up as if Phalon were a child with a skinned knee, smother the scrape with kisses, saying, “There, there. It’ll be alright. I promise.” But Kaisa knew this wound went far deeper than just a skinned knee, and nothing she could do could take her daughter’s pain away. It was something Phalon had to deal on her own. All she could do was offer a sympathetic smile and hug, and she did just that.

“Phalon, your clothes are dry now”, she said laying them out on the foot of the cot. “When you’re dressed, why don’t you come out and eat some breakfast, dear?”

“I will, Mom. Thanks. I’ll be out in a moment.”

Kaisa leaned down, brushed the hair back from Phalon’s face and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled, but Phalon could see worry in her eyes. “Really, Mom. I’m okay…honest.”

“Okay, dear. I’ll have a plate waiting for you on the table when you’re ready. I do hope it’s not too long…It really is a beautiful day.”

Phalon felt a genuine happiness then, at that moment. The love of her family was everything to her, and it should be more than enough…

Kaisa left, and Phalon stared at her riding breeches and tunic, clean and waiting for her to get into. Slowly, she folded them neatly, smoothing out each wrinkle as she went, and then tucked them carefully into her saddle bag under the cot.

She stood up, and smoothed out the folds of the borrowed skirt she wore. Looking in the tiny mirror hung on the wall, she brushed out her hair with long strokes, deliberately leaving it down, instead of the way she always wore it - tied up in a scarf to keep it out of her face during her life in the saddle.

“There”, she said to her own reflection. “If I’m going to be a villager, I might as well look the part.” And she left the room, out to face the beautiful day before her.

[Evergreen]

She slowly sank beneath the warm salt water. The hearth glowed with the flickering fire that ebb and flowed with varying intensity. An occasional pop and shift of the wood was heard as it burned down. Firelight created a muted yellow backdrop to the shadows that danced on the wall. The old woman had gone off behind her portioned sleeping quarters leaving Evergreen to her silent reverie.

The warrior could not remember being so still, so at peace, and welcomed the lassitude the soothing bath provided. Life had been one chapter after another of a progressive tale of adventures with Zena and her sister Amazons.

Evergreen, in her moment of quiet retrospection, contemplated the depth and breadth of the story thinking it would be honorable and worthy of a Bard’s scroll. Albeit a lengthy one, smiling at the thought as she scooped up the warm water allowing it to slowly trickle down her hair and face like ocean scented rain.

She was not particularly lonely in this present place and time. There was something healing in the silence. Something, akin to a grace, seeped like warm honey into the crevices and gaps of her memory. Glancing over to where her sword was propped askew against the hearth, she wondered if it would ever be raised again in battle. She secretly hoped not. Too much blood had already flowed from its blade. The warrior was tired…battle weary.

“Here, let me do that.” As if her thoughts had rang aloud in her solitude, soft hands took the lavender scented soap and slowly covered her back before releasing the misshapen form of it to fall back under the water. Gentle fingers caressed her shoulders with a soothing touch. Evergreen closed her eyes as a familiar voice softly sang to her. The quiet of the night enclosed around her like welcoming arms as she drifted off to sleep.


Edited to fix font. ~~Joxcee~~

[Sumire]

Sumire’s gaze moved from Zena’s eyes to the hand extended to her. She hesitated. Hours before she had made the decision to go with the Amazon and her daughter, which brought an unexpected pang of loss. She would not see Kaisa, her daughter Phalon, or the courageous little lord, Apollo, again. Nor would she get to speak again with the Red woman. And then there was Blackwolf, the woman who came upon her like the Wolf Spirit, Oukami. Less than a handful of days had spent itself like years between them. She felt she might have known a kindred sister in Blackwolf or perhaps even the others…but now she was leaving.

Upon such an unexpected welling of emotion she immediately banished it as a fool’s luxury. They were strangers she had only just met. Had she not already dismissed them all when she had left to go to the river and end her life?

And if such dismissal came so easily then she would find no fault in Zena should the Amazon turn her away. In fact, she was certain that Zena would confirm that she had no place here. But instead, there it was; a hand that spoke of acceptance.

“Please? It is our way that no equal should bow to another. We, my daughter and I, gratefully accept your gift. Our travels with Bartok will be short for the Sisters of Gaia are only two days ride from here; but should you wish to continue in our company when we are done with him, a third warrior will keep us safer. And, I would enjoy learning of your skills with ....the fan.” Zena smiled and remained with her hand outstretched to lift Sumire up as the warrior woman from Jappa considered her response.

When the Amazon spoke of equals and accepting her offer and learning from her, Sumire lowered her eyes and took a moment to make sure to settle the conflicting emotions. Relief, regret, pride, humility. Once sure none of this reflected in her expression or voice she took Zena’s hand and accepted her help up. Nodding once more to Zena she smiled and pledged. “I am honored, Zena-san. All that Kageyama has taught me is yours.”

The unspoken thing that lived constantly within her veins would not let her forget that all duties she undertook now must in some way serve Kageyama. If it were not for her pride in being servant first to Kageyama she might have entertained some shame in what she might be driven to do in the future.

[Sumire]

Zena nodded smile and gave Sumire a pat on the shoulder. “All’s well then.” Glancing at the sky the Amazon took a deep breath of the crisp morning air “Looks like it’s going to be a good day for the road. Let’s get the horses ready” She looked between Sumire and Little Gabby and gave them an encouraging grin before passing onward towards the stables, pushing Bartok before her.

Gabby paused before Sumire and flashed a timid smile “I- I’m glad you’re going to be with us, Sumire.” She looked like she might want to say more but then simply nodded as if to re-affirm what she had just said. Where Zena seemed to sublimate the tension of their sudden departure, her daughter’s unease was more apparent in her voice and movements.

“As am I, little sister.” Sumire bowed to the girl and picked up her belongings so that she could walk beside her as they entered the stables. “I hope that the road is long enough that we have much to talk about.. but short enough that we do not tire our tongues.”

Sumire’s concentration on trying to set Little Gabby more at ease vanished as they entered the stable and the smell of animals assaulted her. When Gabby left her side to ready her own horse Sumire stopped and looked around at the horses in their places. They were such huge beasts.

She was reminded suddenly that her first time on a horse time was only days ago. It was hard to believe; Blackwolf was deeply wounded and could only stay the saddle because Sumire, who was weak and hurting from her own ordeal, held her there. She was sure that it was through either the animal’s instincts or Oukami’s strength that got them to Kaisa’s doorstep –Sumire’s ineptitude had nothing to do with it. The memories brought a chill to her spine but with a deep breath of relief she comforted herself with the thought that riding with Zena would be a much easier affair.

“So which one will you be riding Sumire?” asked Zena once she had finished securing a bound and gagged Barok to his mount.

A softly muttered “Areh?” escaped Sumire’s lips as she turned away from Zena to hide an expression quickly draining of color. Even as the chill returned to her spine she quickly began scanning the other animals in their pens. How ridiculous it would be to have just pledged her hand in protecting the Amazon and her daughter and traveling with them only to admit that she knew nothing of riding. Quickly she found the most likely one and pointed to it.

“Ah.. yes, Zena-san. I think that one should be mine.”

Zena stepped up beside Sumire and looked at her for a moment before looking back at Sumire’s favored mount. “Well… I’m sure an ass would serve well for hilly travel but..”

“And, um…I think that’s Phalon’s brother’s donkey.” Cheerfully volunteered Little Gabby from where she was saddling her horse.

A quick peal of laughter tumbled from Sumire’s lips as she covered her mouth and gave a light playful shove at Zena’s shoulder. “I am joking of course!!” Still looking jovially a Zena she pointed quickly at the stable next to it. “That is the one I meant.”

Zena arched an eyebrow at the latest selection. And Sumire heard Little Gabby’s quiet “Whooaa.” She lifted her eyes to see one of the larger horses staring back at her.

[Zena]

They all stood and stared at the horse Sumire had indicated. He was by all accounts a legendary beast, standing sixteen hands high with a body like a huge barrel. All of him was an inky black color without any white to break the darkness. Several leather leads tied him in place to the stall, keeping him from what appeared to be his intention to demolish the back wall and break for freedom. The wooden wall of the stable directly behind him was shaved down so far that light was passing through the boards in some places. His great head was thrust defiantly over the rail of the stall and his lips were drawn back in an equine version of a snarl. And if all of that was not daunting enough, he continually rolled his eyes around, showing the whites and giving the appearance that he was mad.
“Well,” Zena considered to herself, “she surprised us before. Maybe she is also a fabulous horsewoman as well as a warrior. I think they have horses in Jappa.” She turned slowly toward the stable owner who had wandered in from his daily visit to the tavern.
“Sir, we’d like to buy this horse. I see he is strong, is he sound of wind?"
The master staggered a bit as he approached and took stock of the women before him. Here were targets for a rooking if ever he had seen one. Two women and a child, attempting to do some horse trading! The gods were kind, praise Dionysius!

He stroked his chin and seemed lost in thought and then shook his head as he responded.
“Hmmmmm. He’s a prize winner this one. Destined for the games at Corinth. Maybe after that Olympia. Couldn’t let him go for less than 10,000 dinars."
Zena’s eyes narrowed. “For 10,000 dinars I think you should show us what he can do.” She gestured toward the stall past her stunned companions. “Take him for a run.”
“Uh. I have an injury and I no longer ride.” He was caught off guard by her cool reception of his offer and he suddenly noticed the fact that all these women were heavily armed.
“Ahh. I understand. It must be painful for you. Well a purchase is out of the question then."
Zena turned away to help Gabby tighten the straps on the saddle of her mount.

Joncas laid a hand on a nearby post to steady himself and hoped he looked like a serious businessman. “Well, young lady, I might be willing to take 5,000 since I can’t show him off.” Any money at all would be a good deal to get this demon-horse off his hands.
“5,000 eh? Lead him out then, and let’s have a look at him.” Zena turned back, folded her arms and with a raised hand quietly shushed Gabby who had begun to protest that they had only a few dinars between them.
“Uh, I cannot lead him out to show here, the stable is crowded today and he is a horse of much stature."
As if he knew the conversation centered on him the huge black horse began to strain at his tethers, tossing his head and kicking out at the stall the best he could. Joncas jumped back a foot or two, clearly uneasy. He felt around for the short whip he kept hanging on the post.

“Do you whip this horse?” Zena kept her voice low and accusing in tone. “A whipped horse has a broken spirit or is driven mad and by the look of him his spirit is not in danger. We have no interest in a whipped animal.” She turned away again as if the deal was finished and gestured to Sumire to take the reins of Barok’s horse.

“Two thousand and five hundred dinars. He’s worth every dinar! He has spirit as you say!"
Joncas saw his profit evaporating. Half the town had looked the horse over and half the town had turned away. This might be his last chance to make anything from the horse that had nearly kicked his stable down.

Zena swung herself up into the saddle with one graceful move and Joncas knew she had knowledge and experience of horses. He had underestimated them because they were women. “Well, we could take him if you could give us the dinars now, we are leaving town as soon as possible.”
“Give YOU the dinars? I am selling him!”
“And we’re not buying. Do you want him out or not?”
“I’ll give you one hundred.”
“Keep him. There are other stables.”
“Two.”
“Five.”
“Three”
“Three fifty and throw in his tack and a saddle.”
“The gods have foresaken me!”
“Possibly, or saved you from death by stomping. What’s your answer?”
“Take him and may he bear you to Hades.”
“Have a nice day to you too.” Zena caught the sack with the dinars and counted it carefully before giving Sumire the sign to take the horse. From his perch in the loft Demetrius the stable hand grinned at the Amazon who had once given him a fish dinner for his family and tossed down the tack.

[Evergreen]

“I’m so cold…”

She awoke with a start wondering if she had spoken the words aloud or simply in her mind. The water had cooled and she shivered uncontrollably. The fire was but glowing embers. She quickly stepped from the tub grabbing the soft cloth the old woman had provided for drying her body. She wrapped it around her and stepped closer to the now dying fire.

As she watched the fire ebbing away, the voice and touch to her shoulders gave her cause to look about the room to see who might be in the shadows. The old woman could be heard softly snoring but not another sound resounded in the stillness. It was so real…I heard her…I felt her…could it have been just a dream?

Evergreen reached for the clothing casually tossed over a rough hewn stool. She quickly dressed and slipped into soft ankle high boots. She shook droplets of cool water from the back of hair wet from where she had sunk lower in the soothing water. Taking the cloth, she briskly rubbed it through her dark brown and silver hair.

The bath had been relaxing to her body,her spirit, and although tired, she was not ready for sleep. The sound of the sea seemingly beckoned to her in the night. As she turned to the door, a voice whispered take it with you.

Hesitating for a moment before turning around, Evergreen stilled, attempting to discern the source of the voice. There was no fear, no foreboding. Slowly pivoting, her gaze fell upon her sword next to the hearth. With deliberate steps, she quickly crossed the room, gripped the familiar hilt and sliced the air with the blade sounding a whoosh in the quiet room.

She placed the blade back in its scabbard gently running her fingers over the hand tooled design…Zena she spoke in her mind as she smiled.

The sound of the ocean increased in its intensity as she climbed the hill that would overlook the expanse of the sea. Her path had been lit by the moonlight…a moon that now hung so low in the horizon it appeared to be caressing the black water. Standing on the outcrop jutting out from the land, she wondered how it would feel to sprout wings and fly to the golden light in the sky.

Give it up…give your blade of death to the origin of life… the voice carried as a whisper in the strong salt scented breeze blowing inland. And without a moment’s thought for the act, Evergreen drew her sword from its leather counterpart, held it pointing to the moon, and twirling full circle with all her might tossed the sword into the sea.


Edited to fix font. ~~Joxcee~~

[Sumire]

Sumire was horrified as she watched the scene unfold. Several times her hand twitched and half lifted toward Zena to stop her from her dealings with the man about the humongous animal. She would attempt to say something that would only end up in a quiet stutter that Zena didn’t hear because she was having so much fun negotiating.

What a terrible predicament. Sumire had thought the Amazons had owned the horses and there would be no need of purchasing a mount. It was unthinkable that she would allow Zena to spend money on her behalf but, when the barter changed direction, it became even more impossible to refuse. Surely, instances where a traveling warrior came by extra money were few and far between. Before she could get anything intelligible out the deal was concluded and Zena was nodding at her to take the horse.

Sliding her hands in her sleeves to keep from showing the fact that they were trembling, Sumire nodded and timidly approached the gentleman who had just sold- or rather, bought the horse’s freedom.

“Ehtou… Ehh… Excuse me, I would-“ she stammered before she had to suddenly catch the saddle that was tossed at her. “There ya go, miss. Good ridd- I mean good luc- I mean.. good riding. Heh!” sneared the man. She wasn’t expecting the sudden weight and ended up sidestepping more than catching it.

Zena coughed lightly from her perch on Ergo and gave Joncas a sidelong glare. “I’m of a mind to take this money and just leave him with you the way you treat me and my companions. Do be a gentleman and help her saddle the temperate creature, hmm?”

“Eh!?” he looked at Sumire and jerked his chin up at her. “What? Girl, don’t tell me you don’t know how to toss a saddle up on it. I thought you could ride.” Sumire’s eyes widened a little at what he was implying but she stopped herself before admitting she didn’t know. To hide her consternation she lowered her head to look at the saddle awkwardly hanging in her arms.

Sumire wanted to desperately drop to her knees and bow to the man, begging his assistance but then remembered the gruff exchange between him and Zena in the bartering. What would Sayoko do?

“This..” what was it that they called it?… “This saddo is not like the kind from my country. It is very different.” She paused trying to think of the other word. “And the tak is different also.” When she raised her eyes to him and lifted her chin, recalling the fact that she was a Guardian of the Royal House of Kageyama. It may be that a horse might hurt her but this man dare not treat her so. “You will assist with fitting these things. It will not go well for you if I find I must return here because of an ill fitting saddo or broken tak.”

“Uh-“ Joncas seemed taken aback by the foreign woman and he found that Zena’s hard look only echoed Sumire’s words.

“Gah! Fine, fine! If it’s the last time I put a hand on the beast it’s worth it. Give me that.” He took the saddle from her and yelled up at the loft. “Demetrius! Get down here!”

While the guided the horse out of the stall and worked on securing the saddle Sumire made sure she was beside them, and assisted where she could. She watched closely and tried to take in every detail of how it was done. She chose her questions carefully and followed their answers with a “Ah.. yes. It is very different from the horse riding I know, after all.” or “Oh, yes, of course. With that exception that is how we do it in Jappa.” At some point she heard herself say that in her country horses were trained to take verbal commands from their riders rather than have need of reins and other such things. She had no idea if this was outlandish or not but it would at least explain her lack of knowledge.

She did her best to appear cool and unconcerned. She knew that a dog would bite if it sensed a person’s fear, she assumed with a horse it was the same. Still, she flinched internally every time the horse stamped or snorted or tossed his head –which he did often. By the time the reins were place in her hand she was sweating underneath her clothes.

Instinctively curling the reins in her hand, Sumire walked forward intending to lead the horse over to where Zena and Little Gabby sat upon theirs waiting for her. She had only taken one step when she felt like her shoulder was pulled from it’s socket with the force of the horse jerking its head up. She was involuntarily spun around and the horse jerked again.

“Saa… Saa…” she gritted her teeth and muttered as she tried to keep her hold and firmly direct his head down with her own steady pull. He stomped and snorted and threw his head back again. “Onegai…” Please… she groaned softly, willing herself not to panic. His head jerked harder than before and, staggering a little, she felt she would quickly loose the tug of war. Her fear quickly gave way to frustration at her ludicrous situation. She even heard one of the men laughing off to the side.

When the next head jerk came, in an unthinking gesture she pulled her fan with her free hand fan smacked him sharply on the nose. “Yamete!” Stop it! The action surprised them both and the horse blinked and his fussing had momentarily stopped . Sumire took the opening within the sudden stillness and quickly slid to the horse’s side and then up onto his back as she had seen Zena and Gabby do before her.

“Oh no! That’s the wrong side, Sumire!” Little Gabby’s gasp was loud but Sumire barely had time to make sense of it when the world seemed to erupt beneath her. She was thrown forward and felt her face collide with the beast’s solid neck. Without thinking her arms were clamped around the broad muscular neck and she bit back a cry as the mountain beneath her heaved again. Sumire screwed her eyes shut and tried to cinch her arms and legs even tighter. The animal went from bucking to a demon’s Hell-bent flight as it bolted from the stable and straight on out of town.

“Kami-sama, tasukete!” God help me!

[Zena]

“Woo-hoo Gabs! That girl can ride!” Zena shouted in admiration as Sumire shot out of the stable and disappeared down the street in cloud of dust and a hearty “Kami-sama, tasukete”.
The remaining horses danced expectantly, waiting for her word to move.
“If that’s how they ride all the time in Jappa, it must be one wild country! Heads down Gabs, we can still catch up!” She urged Ergo out of the door leaning low under the stable door jamb and Gabby followed suit remembering just at the last moment to shout “DUCK” at Bardok as she pulled on his horse’s lead.
Demetrius, still grinning at the “deal” his master had made waved merrily at Zena until Joncas slapped him across the back of his head.
“Fool” Joncas spat at him.
“I’m not the one who paid her to take the horse!” Demetrius dodged a kick, satisfied that he would have this moment to hold over Joncas for years to come.

In the street it was easy to see Sumire’s path, it was lined with flabbergasted townsfolk who had just avoided death by hooves. They were pointing up the road, shaking their fists and Zena caught a few of their words as she flew by:
“She’s on the demon-horse..”
“Never saw anyone ride like that...”
“Is she riding or just hanging on?"
The hooves of their horses pounded on the packed earth road make the street tremble as they picked up speed and the people jumped back a second time.
“Crazy Amazons!!”
“Good riddance I say..”
“Should take Phalon with them...”
“Don’t any of them obey the speed limits???”

Outside of town, as Sumire and the trio behind her neared the pond where Zena had fished, a bridge over the stream that fed the pond came into sight. The townspeople, in order to collect some funds for civic projects like the new amphitheater for comedy and tragedy, charged a toll to cross the bridge. A simple log barrier blocked it and then was lifted when the toll was paid. On this sunny morning the seated toll officer looked up from the whittling he was working on to see the biggest horse in all of Greece (except for the one at Troy) headed at full gallop for his position on the bridge. As usual he called out “Stop for the town toll” to warn the rider. The big black horse showed no sign of slowing. “Hey! I said, stop for the town toll! You can’t cross....” Still the horse and it’s rider came on. He was waving his arms now and shouting his message as the distance between him and the rider decreased rapidly. It occurred to him that he really didn’t care that much about the toll after all and at the last second threw himself into the scrub bushes at the side of the road as the horse and rider passed.

“Yi-Yi-Yi!!!” Zena sang out from a quarter mile back, a huge smile on her face. It was good to feel the full use of your whole body in a ride! Every muscle straining, all your senses alert and firing information to your brain. What a lot of fun this journey would be - this woman of Jappa was her kind of warrior!

[Joxcenia]

One bland day blends into another, thought Trenna as she helped clean up after the morning meal before continuing her chores of feeding and washing the horses and cleaning out their stalls. She didn't mind doing any of her chores, because she really enjoyed the solitude. Even though the people were nice to her, she still preferred being off by herself. She used this time to daydream about what she was going to do, and where she was going to go, once her debt to the hospice was paid. She wanted to find where she belonged, where she could feel comfortable and relaxed. Being around the men at the hospice made her uneasy even though she liked them well enough and felt that they were worthy of her trust, she still felt out of place among them.

“Trenna, you have such a way with the horses,” said Sister Phillice when she arrived with a jug of cool spring water to quench Trenna’s thirst. “You must have been raised on a horse farm. There are a few to the north of here, perhaps you should head in that direction when you leave us.”

Trenna took the jug offered to her and poured some of the water over her head before appeasing her dry mouth and throat.

“I was thinking I might head east, actually, toward the rising sun. Maybe I will catch up to Apollo before he starts his daily ride, and he will let me take a trip across the sky with him so that I can find the place where I came from.” Trenna sighed at the thought. “I know I belong somewhere, I just don’t remember where that is.”

Sister Phillice took back the empty jug and patted Trenna on her cheek. “You’re always welcomed to come back here and be one of us should you not find your people. Always remember that.”

“Hopefully I won’t forget that as I have forgotten everything else.” Trenna said softly, as the sadness of losing her memory clouded her mind. She shook her head to scatter the fog from her head as well as the water droplets from her hair and face.

“hmmm. Mnemosyne helps those to forget memories they no longer wish to have, I wonder if she can also restore memories to those who wish to remember?” Sister Phillice said excitedly. “If not, she should know who could help you in that reguards, don’t you think?”

Trenna pondered the Sister’s comment as she returned to her duties.

[Gabbin]

Xendra had other ideas and feelings-presently they were shame at not having prevented the child's injury. Frieda and Xendra whispered furiously about what action to take but the stronger Xendra won out and now they were at the edge of town. Xendra had wanted Frieda to take her, quietly, to this road. Xendra was busily getting her things together while Frieda listened and took in the morning smells of cows hay mingled in the early swirls of humidity changing over from night to morn. The child was no longer whimpering but was sleeping.

"Frieda, tell Phalon I am heading this way for a while, I just need time to think", said Xendra.

"Um, right, now what do I do?", asked Frieda.

"Head back to town", Xendra stated.

"Yes, but, am I strong enough to carry the child all the way?" queried the uncertain weaver.

Xendra let out an exasperated and tired sigh; it had been a long night, "try, Frieda, try, you can do this".

"Right, okay, well, I hope you return soon", said Frieda lightly as she heard Xendra stride off through the tall grasses.

Frieda turned and started back on the familiar path. She thought how walking was like weaving-with a mathematical pattern needing no sight; only familarity.

The child slept as Frieda shifted her once again; she was getting heavier and Frieda's footfalls were becoming more noticeable as she approached the tavern. Frieda stopped. The ground was shaking: vibrating her toes. She could hear them now; clearer, as they approached. Horses, 3, and not all were riding the horse in an even style. The horses were thundering Frieda's direction and so she pulled herself and the child into a nearby bush. Frieda's eyes were wide and wild as the trio passed, the dust rose and she waited for it to settle along with her fears.


Finally, the general store was near and Frieda was lunging and weaving heavily through a crowd of onlookers. "So much for a stealthy and secret walk", thought Frieda, ruthfully.

"Frieda", whispered a harsh voice near her, "over here, let me open the door", it was the voice, and smell, of one of those wild women. Frieda's heart began to race as her legs started to collapse. She had finally made it to the general store, but not at all as intended; she heard voices whisper and a few comments and gasps from onlookers. The gossip had started.

[Phalon]

As Phalon entered the main room of the house, she heard the commotion of what sounded like a crowd assembling outside. Curious as to what could be happening this early in the morning that would cause so much excitement, she stuck her head out the front door and saw through the gathering of people, the weaver walking down the street on unsteady feet, carrying a child in her arms. No one moved to help her, though it was obvious she was struggling, and instead there were jeers interspersed among the buzz of whispers rising from the crowd.

She stepped out of the house and strode towards the weaver, ignoring pointing fingers and ugly words whispered behind the concealment of hands covering the mouths that uttered them. She reached the pair just as the younger woman’s knees began to buckle under the weight of the child, and Phalon grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Frieda, over here”, she whispered as she guided her back towards the house, “let me open the door.”

The heavy door that closed behind them shut out the sounds of the gossip that had started, and Frieda leaned against it, welcoming the respite it offered for the moment – for she new it wouldn’t last long. Gossip had always surrounded her in this town; rumors about the supposed details regarding her husband’s death, and tongues wagging over the fact that she, a woman, owned her own business. In that respect, she was not too different than Kaisa, the woman’s house she stood in now, she thought. But Kaisa belonged here; she was born here, grew up here, fell in love and was married here; she raised her family here, and when her husband died it was natural that she and her son should take over the family business. The circumstances of Frieda owning her own shop were very different – she was an outsider, and that, coupled with her blindness, was all that was needed to feed the suspicions of some of the villagers. And now….now she was seen by nearly the entire village, walking through town; alone, with an injured child and then being helped by one of the wild women. She could only imagine the rumors spreading regarding this bit of information, and she longed to be in the safety of her own home.

Phalon, still holding on to Frieda’s elbow, could read all these thoughts, and wondered if she’d made things worse for the young woman by coming to her assistance. She thought to herself, ‘You and I are not as different as you think, Frieda; both of us feared and unwelcome in the place we now live…’ She smiled then, remembering the reason she was here. “….But not here - in my mother’s home everyone is welcome”, she said aloud without thinking, causing Frieda to look at her with a puzzled expression. “What?” Frieda asked, wondering if Phalon was talking to someone else in the room of whose presence she was not aware.

“Uh…nevermind”, Phalon replied, “I was just talking to myself…here, let me take the child.” It was only then, as she moved to relieve Frieda from the burden of carrying the sleeping child; dead weight, grown heavier with each step; that Phalon saw who the child was. The girl lifted her head from its place nestled against Frieda’s shoulder, fluttered her eyelids, and in a small, sleepy voice, murmured, “Auntie Phalon…”, before closing her eyes again.

“Vania!” It was as if it was sung in three-part harmony; Kaisa and Damarius entering the room and all three of them crying out the name in unison. Frieda looked as if she would crumble under the weight from the barrage of questions flung at her at once; pressing herself against the door as if she could meld into it and make herself invisible; perhaps wondering if it’d be easier to bear the whispers and overhead rumors of those gathered outside in the street.

[Sumire]

There was thunder underneath her and a hurricane in her ear and still she hung on. She did not know exactly where she was because she knew that if she opened her eyes she'd see a demon host escorting her to their dimension. In fact she could hear them:

"Yi Yi Yi!" they cried. Above the heaving of the horse’s breath she could hear their own demonic mounts escorting her in. They seemed happy to have her in Hades. Sumire remembered that they called the dark world of the dead Hades. At the very least her death had passed so quickly and suddenly that she herself had failed to notice. There was a fleeting concern that her death had not been too gruesome and that recent adventures in the western world had not taken too much of a toll on her that she left behind a body that was pleasing to look upon.

She almost lost her grip when the horse flew over one of the portals into Hades. There had been someone screaming about a toll. Ah, yes! In her studies she recalled that the dead must have gold coins placed upon their eyes as toll for the boatman that takes them across the river to the underworld.

It all made sense now. The riders she heard behind her were not escorting her, they were chasing her! Suddenly Sumire wanted to weep understanding what she had just done. It was going from horribly bad to terribly worse. Not only had she come uninvited into Hades, she had neglected to pay her way. How worse did things get for you once you were dead? Surely the demons of the western worlds had unbearable punishments waiting for her after all the havoc she had caused by her inexplicably rude actions following her death.

It might mend things if she returned to the gate and apologized. She would find out if the gate keeper of Hades would accept her toll after her trespassing and then offer whatever she could. The first thing would be to beg forgiveness from the demons chasing her.

Her face was pressed hard against the great neck of the beast, but she turned her head as much as she dared and opened her eyes to see how far away the demon was.

Daylight and dust. And.. daylight. Her eyes were blurred with tears she did not know she was crying but she could see the blue sky and the bouncing world.. and the shape of the rider behind her. The temporary illusion that had allowed her some relative sanity in accepting her death was gone and terror was upon her again. She still had the gruesome death to experience before she would even come close to visiting the underworld.

Desperate arms tried to tighten further around the neck but it was no use, she was sliding steadily sideways. Even if her grip held, at some point she would be hanging under the horse’s neck.. and from there it would be under the horses feet. Her body would not be pleasing to look upon after that.

Unable to scramble back onto the saddle and unwilling to slide further underneath the horse, Sumire opted to dismount. Or rather, simply jump clear.. or, at the very least, a body that was not entirely gruesome in death.

With the decision, her panic faded and she looked ahead to choose the spot where she would die. Taking a breath she coiled her strength and readied herself. The spot in the road advanced and she launched, head in but arms out ready to fold with the impact, giving enough to impart the shock through her extremities before her core would impact with the road. The breath that she was holding she released in a kiyai that dispersed as much energy as her limbs did.

“KYAH!!” She bounced and rolled and her body moved on its own. The world moved as quickly as it always did when death loomed close. But, as in battle, sometimes time slowed within the fury. Sumire waited within the slowtime to wake up at the gates of Hades, but instead found that when time caught up to motion she was in a crouching position as readily as if she had just finished off an opponent. She opened her eyes and saw the hind end of the horse as it galloped away from her. The two riders that were nearly upon her careened past her, their mounts churned up dirt while they were being pulled around to stop.

She was alive. As she straightened, gazing unbelieving at the still fleeing horse, she could feel that her shoulder was not right and there was the sharp stabbing sensation of something torn along her side, but she was alive. Alive. After all this. After everything.

A trembling hand rose to her mouth as a sob escaped her lips. She honestly could not tell if it was laughter or weeping. Catching her breath was proving difficult because of the silent laughter that made her stomach pull tight. She doubled over, hand over her face and trembling through giggles that she refused to voice. She had to stop this and get ahold of herself. The riders were Zena and Little Gabby and she couldn’t let them see her like this. Wiping at her eyes she took deep controlling breaths but still there was an undeniable giddiness that wanted to bubble up. Stupid. Frustrating. Unacceptable.

Unable to bear or deal with such muddled, useless emotion she replaced it with something else that seemed more fitting. Sumire straighten up and, as Zena rode over, she put her hands on her hips. Fixing Zena with a displeased look she spoke as if it was the Amazon’s fault.

“Zena-san. There is a problem. That horse does not know the language of Jappa.”

[Evergreen]

The days meandered into weeks. Evergreen fell into an easy fluid flow of time turning the wheel in the cycle of her seasons. She often walked along the beach at sunset gathering her arms around her in quiet solitude with only the sounds of the sea and an occasional gull swooping down in a false challenge of territory.

She had changed, this warrior woman. An indefinable peace had permeated her being as she had not known since the time of their togetherness. As her mind was washed clean by the sea, memories returned bringing with vivid clarity the one she now knew was lost to the past. A name, a woman like no other, and for which no explanation nor defense of their time would be spoken aloud.

Running her hand through her hair, longer now, blown in matted tangles by the salty mist carried in by Neptune’s breathing in and out on the waves, she thought of many things. Like the sun dancing in and out of the shadows of her much loved evergreen forest, people and places flashed before her.

She missed Zena and often wondered if she would recognize the changed individual she had become. She missed the camaraderie of her sisters and hoped that they too had found some small share of the peace that now graced her days.

Stepping over a small turtle fighting to make its way to the sea, Evergreen turned back, stooped down and gently scooped it up in the palm of her hand. As a white capped wave reached out to the shore, she opened her hand and gave the turtle to its mother who carried it out to its destiny.

The sea and her work in the old woman’s vineyards had healed her. And yet, she longed for a familiar embrace and laughter of her traveling companion. Evergreen knew well that her sister Amazons would well care for Zena as she them. Perhaps someday they again would meet and perhaps they too would have some other adventure to mark the memory of their days.

[Zena]

Zena’s eyebrows popped up and her face showed her surprise under the layer of white dust from the wild ride.
“Well no, Sumire, I wouldn’t think a Greek horse would know much Jappa. Why do you mention it?” This hardly seemed like the first topic for conversation.
Ergo was still excited from the full out gallop and danced around the small figure of the Jappa woman on the ground. Sumire seemed oddly uneasy about her proximity to the restless hooves.
They had been close behind Sumire and the beast as she cleared the toll barrier and when they clattered over the bridge Zena stood up in her stirrups to get a better view. Sumire’s graceful somersault was astounding even by Amazon standards and when she stood up as if she were ready to take on the Athenian army, Zena and Gabby pulled up ready to write a lengthy bard’s ballad about her abilities.
This talk of language however, was a little confusing. Horses were rarely known to be bilingual, except for maybe Whisperer who knew a few commands in Latin. If this was going to be a philosophical discussion about the superiority of Greek (which all right thinking people knew was true) it really wasn’t the right venue.
“Let’s discuss this later. Right now your horse is on his way to the coast."
Zena offered a hand to Sumire, intending to ride tandem until they caught up to her mount. But Sumire remained in place, hands on her hips refusing to move.
Zena frowned and started to entreat her to move but Gabby cut her off.
“Mom...”
“Sumire, let’s go.....”
“MOM!”
“What?!!”
“LOOK....."
It was then that Zena noticed that Sumire’s gaze was not on her but was riveted on the road just behind them. The Amazon slowly turned her head and raised an eyebrow. The beast was returning as swiftly as he had gone and was headed straight for Sumire. She remained frozen in place as the pounding made by the giant horse drowned out Zena’s warning. The three horses danced back unbidden from the area directly in front of Sumire and this beast from Olympus (or Tartarus, depending on your viewpoint) stopped dead in the dirt in front of them. The cloud of dirt and debris took a moment to settle and when it did, the huge black horse had bowed it’s head before Sumire in a posture of compliance.
“By the gods Sumire!”, Zena whispered, “How did you get him to do THAT?"
Sumire appeared to be a bit wobbly, but of course this was from her enthusiasm for the equine challenge.
“Perhaps, with your permission, I may teach you Zena-san.”

[BhenRudha]

Every ounce of grace and skill she had won back for herself was forgotten as she ran through the trees. Branches slapped at her face and arms, reminding her of another time when placing one foot before the other was the only thing she could concentrate on.

Why did she run?

She was afraid. She had lost so much, had so much still to lose, and looked like she was going over the precipice. If she could not get Zena to see . . . if the tribe decided to leave without her . . .

She tried to outrun that thought.

Her steps bought her eventually to a clearing. There were traces of anger and soul-deep pain that drew her near, though she did not comprehend the clues that she saw. Instead her focus fell upon the footsteps she could hear in the grass. When she understood that it was Blackwolf, the crimson veil returned to her vision and she forced her hands open and closed in an effort not to throw herself into a fight for violence’s sake.

“Nice night for a stroll, isn’t it?” the dark haired woman said, hands clasped behind her to appear nonchalant.

It felt like months or years had passed, when really only a few days had gone by, so she was more raw than she had liked to think. Great gulping breaths seared her throat as she tried to sort through the war of emotion that raged within her. Grief finally won out, and without a word she collapsed to the ground, sobbing as she had not since she had woken to find Witch cradled in her arms.

Caught unprepared for such a reaction, Blackwolf hesitated before moving forward, wanting to give some comfort. In that moment, a pair of clawed feet hit her shoulder, the rustle of wings loud in her ear.

*Wolf-cousin, would you help us?* came a voice near her ear, and within her mind at the same time.

*She will not let us in, locked as she is in a misunderstanding,* came another voice from the trees. When Blackwolf looked up, she saw the larger, black-eyed raven staring down at her.

Before she could formulate an answer, the raven on her shoulder spoke again, *We need your help in getting her into her tearmann, what she calls her Emerald Dream. Only there can we speak to her, convince her that we are neither angry nor ashamed of her.* Blackwolf felt the raven in the trees sigh as the one on her shoulder continued, *She is still so broken, and is forced to fight uphill each fragile step. Will you lend us your strength to get through to her?*

"I will try my best, though my strength is still limited. I can enter another's dreams with my power, but I've never tried to help send someone there. I'm not quite sure what I can do," Blackwolf replied.

*We are the way, you will be our strength. Simply keep yourself open to us.*

Blackwolf nodded in understanding before kneeling before the woman in front of her. "Red, don't do this to yourself. There is no reason for you to be fighting like this."

The Red Woman was beyond hearing, and only shook her head as she sobbed. She dug her nails into the soft dirt, grinding it in her strong hands. Blackwolf reached gently to stop her and was assaulted by the tempest of emotion that her friend was caught in. Grief, anger, hope, despair, blind rage, betrayal . . .

High charged emotion whirled around Blackwolf, and she was forced to ground herself, lest she be sucked into it. As she tried separate the different feelings that Red was trapped within, she was confused by the betrayal. It was not aimed at her sister, as Blackwolf had expected, but instead . . .

*Yes, Zena,* Laoch answer the unasked question. *Our Priestess counted on Zena’s understanding when she tried to explain.*

*But the Amazon has no trust in Fechine’s wisdom,* Baintreach said, *she only sees the violence.*

“And fears for her daughter,” Blackwolf said, holding tightly to Bhen Rudha’s hands as the other woman continued to cry.

*Indeed,* was all the ravens said in reply.

Blackwolf narrowed her concentration and could feel the great knot of grief unwinding itself and used her own power to help it along. The warrior could not take another’s pain away, but she could soften it, set some distance between it and the carrier of such pain. She sighed softly when she noticed the Red Woman relax a little curl up on her side, though she wept still.

Share with me, Blackwolf whispered with her mind and spirit as she moved to cradle Red’s head with her knees. Let me share your burden.

Red’s response was to curl up tighter, as if she could hear, and burying her face in her hands.

*She fears for your safety*, Laoch whispered through her concentration, the words so soft that she did not flinch at the contact. Instead she gathered her strength and asked again, Give it to me, just for tonight, and we will face it together.

An answer came from Bhen Rudha’s spirit, as tear choked as her breath, You . . . even you . . . could not understand. The last of the fragile strength that Bhen Rudha had built for herself in the past days crumbled, leaving her defenseless under a fresh onslaught of pain.

Leaning over, so she could whisper into Red’s ear, Blackwolf said, "I don't need to comprehend. Just share with me a little of your pain, and let someone actually care for you."

To much . . . I carry to much . . . have lost to much . . . And yet, a memory of care and love rose slowly through her grieving to shine diminished, but not so much that Bhen Rudha could see it.

Blackwolf saw it too, the caring faces of Red’s teachers and parents, all tinted with sadness, and felt tears rise to her own eyes. With that memory came trust, and with that trust came pain.

She had thought the tempest was overwhelming and learned that she had only seen it from afar. Now she was within it, gasping for air as she struggled desperately to bring her power forth. But the weight of years was greater than her weeks of training, and Blackwolf began to drown.

Two presences gathered within her faltering mind, one red hot, the other black ice, and she felt herself grounded at once. *We are the way,* the two ravens said together, *you are the strength.*

Confident that she would be held safe, Blackwolf claimed her center and opened it slowly, offering a haven for the battered spirit of one lonely priestess. Grief, old and new, zeroed in on her first, and she held it, gentled it, acknowledged its truth, let it flow through her lessened but not gone. Rage was next, then fear, betrayal fought her, but she simply waited, knowing her own trust would help blunt that particular pain. Despair would not move, and she reached to gather it up, knowing that her grasp was strong enough. Finally there was only the dim flicker of hope. She called to it, as a mother to a beloved child, cradled it in her arms, breathed strength into it, and sent it back to help warm the Red Woman’s heart.

Though this all Bhen Rudha wept, though each sob was softer than the one before. It was as if she became numb, and it reminded her of those days she spent with a collar of iron around her throat. Not even the flare of hope could snap her out of this memory, and she felt herself sink away, dropping finally into a dream that was at once sweet in its escape and torture in its familiarity.

A sigh escaped Blackwolf’s lips as she opened her eyes to find Red asleep in her lap. She brushed her hand across a tear stained cheek and said to the ravens that had helped her, “This is only the start, isn’t it?”

*Yes,* Baintreach said.

*You have released her once, and now I fear we must ask you to help release her again. But this time, we three must venture into what she has made of her tearmann. We will of course be with you,* the raven on her shoulder answered, rubbing her beak gently down Blackwolf’s face.

Tired and sad, the warrior nonetheless smiled, saying, “Show me the way, and I will be your strength.” As she said it, she felt herself pulled down the thread that Bhen Rudha left tied to her body, and found herself, at last, in the Emerald Dream.

[Gabbin]

The crush of the crowd noise faded into the background as Frieda's focus now changed to taking in the smells and sounds of the store. Phalon's presence brought a certain comfort: it was unclear to Frieda why that was. At the same time her mind raced with the fear of these wild women. Any association could be misconstrued. Frieda walked a fine line in the town. Many thought her to be loss of sight was a punishment handed down by the Gods. Frieda started to panic;

"Uh", Frieda said.

"Are you okay?" asked Phalon, "would you like some water?"

Frieda was parched, "Y-yes, please, just a bit."

Phalon went and poured some water from a pitcher. Frieda could hear her movements. She poured with assurance and care.

"Have you lived here long, Frieda?" inquired Phalon.

I moved here with my husband almost six years ago." replied Frieda, moving her head about to listen to Phalon's shuffling footfalls.

"Oh, so not long, then" Phalon seemed to be gently probing into Frieda's life.

Frieda felt the air of Phalon as she neared and reached out for the goblet. The cool roughness her fingertips felt was a welcome diversion. She gulped and spilled some down the sides of her chin. Nervously laughing Frieda started to wipe her chin. Her ears returned to the throng outside. They seemed to have dispersed for the most part. Frieda wondered if there was a quiet way out of the store.

"I-I, well it is time for me to be going now," said Frieda feeling for the door.

"Alright, would you like some help at all getting back? Phalon offered.

"Oh, no, hee hee, oh thank you" Frieda tried to recover and not show how scared she was at the idea.

"Alright, well, thank you for all you did," said Pahlon "take care."

Frieda fumbled with the knob and was gone in a stumbling flash, only a few drops of water on the floor remained.

[Phalon]

Phalon watched and listened to Frieda as she answered the many questions Kaisa and Damarius flung on her. “How did she get hurt?” “Why was she with you?” “Where is Xendra?” Questions of a fretful mother and grandmother, and asked in rapid succession of those worried about one of their flock. Frieda answered the questions as best she could – she really did not know many of the details – and seemed to grow more tired with each answer. By the time Kaisa and Damarius left the room to settle the injured child in bed, Frieda looked to Phalon as if she might collapse in exhaustion.

She offered her a glass of water, and as the woman drank, Phalon asked her a few simple questions about herself, hoping to get Frieda’s mind off the night’s ordeal and put her a bit more at ease. She seemed to be nervous around Phalon; timid almost, and she wondered if it was just around her, or if Frieda was this way with everyone.

The glass of water now empty, Frieda bid a hasty farewell, and quickly departed. Phalon stood at the doorway and watched her make her way down the street and around a few groups of onlookers still huddled together, whispering and pointing as the blind woman passed.

This worried her – for some reason she felt protective of the younger woman, and despite Frieda’s objections, Phalon decided to see that she got home safely. She’d follow her though, from a distance, not wanting to add to the suspicions she knew the townspeople held in regards to the blind weaver, and certainly those suspicions would be heightened if she were seen cavorting with one of the “wild women”.

Quickly she pulled her hair up; tying it in a knot at the nape of her neck, and then wound one of her silk scarves around her head. In the borrowed blouse and skirt, and with her long hair hidden under the scarf, she barely looked like herself, she thought glancing in the mirror. Definitely not like the “wild woman” the villagers imagined her to be, and with any luck, no one would notice it was her following Frieda through the streets of town.

[Sumire]

“Let’s discuss this later. Right now your horse is on his way to the coast.” said Zena.

Sumire thought Let him have the coast and every bit of trail his flight takes, as long as I do not have to ride him or another horse again. ...."That horse does not know the language of Jappa." What was I thinking? Now, if Zena would just move her own beast a few steps further from me I can think enough to come up with what I meant by that.

No sooner had she finished the thought when Ergo sidled a few steps closer and a hand was extended to her. Zena was inviting her up to ride with her. Impossible. The very thought made her knees tremble though she stood as still as she dared. It also didn't help that one arm from her shoulder down was awash with throbbing pain that intensified with each pulse. Not moving was a perfectly acceptable answer.

"Sumire, let's go...." The amazon's voice was insistant. Immediately Sumire remembered the first time she had ever ridden a horse -seemingly ages ago- when Blackwolf had held her hand down to her. She tried to resist having to ride then as well, and found that she had no such option. Sumire had the sinking feeling that this would not go her way either. Perhaps this time would be different she attempted to ease her way into accepting her dismal fate. At least I no longer have to deal with a demon beast that... is...

now...

"MOM!"

coming back...

"WHAT?!!"

TOKILLME!

The terrible vulnerability suddenly intensified as the other horses that were seconds ago much too close danced away from her, leaving her alone to face her gruesome death. As the horse barrelled down upon her she hoped that it would hit her hard enough to knock her spirit at least partway to Jappa so the voyage woudn't be so long.

And so she thought to meet her death, yet instinct got the better of her and as the horse was nearly upon her she pivoted a quarter turn and lifted a leg. Both arms swung before her and her shoulder screamed in pain as her hands stiffend in the gesture of warding.

Nothing happened. Rather, stillness did. The rumble of the hooves and the shouts of the amazons ceased. The earth that shook under her now did not. She had not been aware of the movement of air around her until it stilled.

With the concentrated effort of moving through dense liquid Sumire opened her eyes. The horse loomed a dangerously short distance away. It's powerful legs were caught in the churn of a gallop that was frozen in time. All that might was delicately balanced on the one hoof that presently touched the ground. The puff of dust unsettled by it's now silent beat hung in the air around it like a cluster of mushrooms around the trunk of deformed tree. The silky mane spread out in a cloud of black that reminded her of a typhoon. The horse's expression was a portrait of mad glee. Flared nostrils and shining teeth, eyes that shone like polished stones promised a challenge. The creature's possession of life shone beyond the suspended moment.

In the stillness, he was beautiful.

The warmth of recognition of such a magnificent thing was disturbed by a familiar voice.

"Hotaru," It was a velvet whisper just behind her ear. "If you are going to keep dancing with Death, one day you will have to let him lead." Sumire could hear that wry smile behind the words. Attempting to move against the hold of time, she tried to turn but stopped when she felt, rather than saw, the presence of an arm reach over her soulder. Her fighting fan was being placed in her hand by the unseen force.

Once her fingers curled around the fan Time cracked mercilessly to life again.

There was a gust of wind that moved between her and the horse that was near upon her. It changed enough in it's passage between that it's form had become unmistakable. A small dust cloud in the shape of a fox dashed in front of the horse so that it planted it's forelegs to skid to slow itself. It was just enough time for Sumire to sidestep and bring the fan around to smack the horse smartly upon the nose.

The moments that came later were a complete mystery to her. After the billowing cloud had settled there was no sign of the dust fox. She did not understand why the horse made this gesture of kneeling before her.

“By the gods Sumire!”, Zena whispered, “How did you get him to do THAT?”

“Perhaps, with your permission, I may teach you Zena-san.” As soon as I understand it myself, Sumire thought to herself.

She moved to take it's reins, the horse resisted only until she produced the fan and arched her eyebrow meaningfully at him. She wondered how long that would last with a creature as spirited as he. Considering her predicament she sighed and conceeded one of her lies. Looking up at Zena and Gabby she confessed.

"I most sorry to burden you, Zena-san, but I- my arm.. I seem to have injured myself.. Can you please teach me which words this horse will understand. He is spirited but I wish that we do not have further misunderstandings."

"Oh! I can teach you that, Sumire. We don't use words." volunteered Gabby.

"No words? How can this be?"

"Well, not many words anyway. Just use the reins.." Gabby lifted her hand so that Sumire could see the straps in her hands "and your legs. Look."

Sumire watched in wonder as Gabby made her horse back up a few steps and then turn around. "See.. I'm moving him by pulling gently, and guiding him with my knees."

"Sugoiii," muttered Sumire softly. Amazing.

"Yeah. I think so too." smiled Gabby.

[Joxcenia]

Trenna sat staring into the fire’s glow, something she most likely had done in the past, yet the memories of those other countless times would not surface. She knew they were there, somewhere, hiding just outside of the reach of the firelight, in the darkness of her mind. Memories of a family, of a childhood, of growing into womanhood, of a life shared with a community of fellow villagers. She had a name, a real name, a name that meant something, to her, and to others who knew her. Nothing like the name of ‘Trenna’, which was given to her because she was found unconscious among chopped down trees.

A log slide off of its perch atop two other logs and let loose a flurry of dancing embers. Trenna sighed as she watched the tiny fireflies scurry up toward the stars, stars that knew her, but she not them.

[Phalon]

She kept close enough to Frieda Rose that, if need be, she could step in and offer assistance should the blind woman need it, but hung far enough back that she hoped Frieda would not notice she was being followed. She was amazed at how deftly Frieda navigated the streets, using her walking stick to feel her way, and pausing every so often to listen to the sounds around her; sounds telling her to step out of the way of this, or head in the direction of that.

Sounds. And Phalon knew that since Frieda could not see, her sense of hearing must be keener than that of a sighted person. How then, could the young woman not hear the whispers and gossip that followed her as she walked through the town? Yet she seemed oblivious to it - deaf as well as blind. She supposed Frieda had gotten used to it; the rumors surrounding her – and she wondered if she, herself would eventually do the same.

Today was different though…the whispers she heard all revolved around Frieda. No one pointed towards Phalon, whispering suspicions regarding her Sight, or those associated with her warrior and Amazon friends, including the ever-present “They eat dogs, you know” rumor - another ludicrous idea borne out of ignorance and refusal to accept what they did not understand. It was the way she was dressed, she supposed, that made today different for her. She blended in with the crowd; conforming to what they considered as “normal” and acceptable. She wondered how quickly the rumors surrounding her would resurface once she put back on her tunic and breeches, with her sword sheathed on her back…..

Funny she thought of that now. Just earlier this morning, placing her riding clothes next to her sword under the cot, she had no intentions of taking them out again – a part of her life that was over. Zena and Gabby were gone, and it seemed Sumire with them, and Phalon thought she’d made up her mind to stay here, with her family. That’d she even consider strapping on her sword again – that the thought entered her mind - made her wonder at her resolve to stay put.

For the moment though, she walked in the dress of those around her, indistinguishable from any other of the women in the village. Something Frieda Rose could never do – be indistinguishable from those around her, no matter how she was dressed. Her lack of sight made her different - and therefore someone to be singled out; suspicious of and perhaps even feared. Just like the Amazons.

Frieda now passed a group of young boys; five of them, aged at about 9 or 10, Phalon guessed. She recognized a couple of them – the insolent red-headed freckled faced one in particular – as being some of the children she’d come across yesterday during the “They eat dogs, you know” encounter. Unlike the adults that gossiped in whispers or behind hands covering mouths to obscure unfounded rumors, the boys were loud in voicing their opinions.

“My mother says she’s blind because she did something bad that the gods didn’t like”, the red-head started it.

The others chimed in, “I heard my aunts say that darkness is evil, and she lives in darkness because she is evil.”

“Yeah, that’s probably what that red mark on her forehead is…it’s the mark of evil.”

“She’s blind so she can’t give anybody the evil-eye anymore. The gods made sure of that.”

Hearing these attitudes voiced so freely; ignorant ideas planted in innocent young minds by adults who passed their own prejudices and fears onto those of their children, Phalon had a better idea of what Frieda faced everyday. She knew there were those who believed that any ailment – any impairment; permanent or temporary, was inflicted by the gods as a punishment for wrongdoings committed. Or an even more antiquated belief that light meant safety, and was good and pure. The ability to see was associated with that idea, and conversely, darkness was something to fear – something dangerous and evil – and darkness was associated with blindness. And she wondered who was the more blind in this case. Frieda’s inability to see did not seem to limit her as much as those around her, blind in their discrimination of what they did not understand.

One of the boys bent down, scooped up a handful of mud, and threw it at the blind woman as she start to pass, the mud splattering on her skirt. She watched Frieda’s gait slow; a brief pause before she continued walking past the boys. Another handful of mud caught her on the shoulder and sprayed across her face. Phalon watched in horror as a third picked up a rock, testing its weight and the damage it would cause by tossing it back and forth between his hands.

This was enough. It had gone too far, and it was time for her to step in before things turned really ugly. Frieda was in real danger of getting hurt, and though everyone else on the street might turn their heads to look the other way, Phalon would not. She started towards them, and then saw it…Frieda stopped, her back stiffened, and she whirled around, facing the group of boys.

Everybody has a breaking point – a point at which they’ve had too much and just snap. Phalon had done it last night – snapped – when she had berated Zena for not understanding Bhen Rudha’s position. The physical exhaustion of carrying the child back to Kaisa’s, having been thrown into a situation with the Amazons in which she clearly was uncomfortable, and a lack of sleep - it all took its toll. Frieda Rose had finally reached her breaking point.