Chapter Seventy-One
“We do not know how to build homes, let alone a citadel.”
“We did not know how to ride horses or fire arrows or fight, but we learned.”
“We can make do in Ninniya, even with our new numbers. There will be enough. More than enough if we are careful.”
The heat of the dispute rose with every passing comment, each woman desperate to make her opinion known.
“Why would we make do when we can thrive?” Damaris’s voice was the most fervent of them all. It was a fervor I felt, though I tried to maintain an air of impartiality, no matter how strongly that land was drawing me back.
I spent a full day exploring the slopes where the river Thermodon reached the Black Sea, galloping farther and longer than I had ever done before.
The horses, although nervous about Erebus at first, did not take long to accept his presence.
There was fresh water and sea water, fish to catch and animals to hunt; mouflon, muntjac, and deer teemed, and I saw them all, as well as wild boar and rabbits.
I would not have been surprised to find bears stalking through the forest. By the time I was ready to set up camp and fall asleep, I was under no doubt that this was a land given to us by the gods.
It was only my love of the women that drew me back.
Women whom I needed to convince to change their lives once again.
“I was skeptical,” I said as I tried to use my own doubts to assure them. “But you will understand when you see. Or you can put your trust in me the way you have done many times before.”
Murmurs rippled through the crowd. Every woman there had lost something or someone, and now I was asking them to give up more, but it was nothing compared to what they had gained and would continue to gain if they followed me.
“What of Hirtus and our sons? What if they come to look for us and find we are gone? What then?”
“And what of their sons?” Chrysothea looked to the young boys who had arrived with their mothers from Oreia. “You made us exile ours, yet you will house other women’s? That cannot be.”
I had thought long and hard on the matter during the journey back to Ninniya, but I still took my time in responding. After all, I had not consulted Hirtus about my plan, and it would rely on his generosity. A generosity that had never failed me before.
“Any boys here will join the others,” I said. “Once we agree, I will take the young boys, seek out Hirtus and his men, and inform them of our move—but not the exact location. He told me of the lands he hoped to visit and the times of year he intended to pass through them.”
“And if these women do not wish to leave their sons?” Boryana asked. “Then what?”
“Then they will not fall under our protection,” I said. “There may be more of us now, but our need has not changed. We will be free of men.”
Reactions were mixed. As the volume rose once more, I spoke over them again.
“There is one other option,” I said. “The other option is that we split up. If you wish for our protection, then you must give up your sons to the men who have left. But if you do not desire to live with us in this new land, then you can choose to roam wherever you wish. You would not be the first. Iphinone has already taken her leave but remains one of us. She is welcome to join us whenever she wishes, but for now, while her son remains with Hirtus, she has chosen to live apart. She has opted for a nomadic life.”
A rumble of shock rippled through the women.
“She has abandoned us?”
“No,” I said firmly. “She has not. She has made a choice to live off the land on her own. This is why we have done all that we have done. This is why we have suffered everything we have suffered—so that we can choose the lives we want. You decide what life you want: to remain here or travel alone or join us in Themiscyra.”
“Themiscyra?” Women exchanged looks of confusion, but it was Althea who spoke.
“Themis for the goddess of justice?” she guessed.
“The goddess of justice and order, for that is what we have given ourselves. And the river Thermodon, which will sustain our life there. Cyra for what we are. Women.”
“Justice and order of the women.” Sotiria’s voice was soft as she said the words.
“And life from the river,” Thalassa interjected. “I like it. Themiscyra.”