Chapter 29 #2
“You can’t be sure of that.” And, if he sees me here, he’ll think I’ve infiltrated the camp of his worshippers on purpose.
“But we can. He spends his time several hours’ ride north of here. It’s where he prefers to be. He won’t disturb us tonight, and if you don’t want him to know that you’ve visited, we’ll tell him nothing.”
I stare at her. “You’d keep secrets from your own god?”
Her lip curls, almost a scoff. “We keep whatever secrets we choose,” she says.
I waver, picturing my mortification if he should find me here. The hot drench of shame I’d feel if he thought I’d come searching for him, as vividly as if he were standing right in front of me, contempt in those empty black eyes. He’d never believe I’m not here for him.
But I’m not. I’m here on my own business. So what does it matter what Ares might think? He isn’t here, and I trust this queen. She’s many things—wild, stern, terrifyingly capable—but I don’t think she’s deceitful.
“Stay.” She presses my wrist gently. “Enjoy our hospitality a while longer.”
No thundering war-cry echoes from the horizon. No dash of bronze hooves shakes the ground. Still, I hesitate.
Across the fire, Melo’s eyes are fastened on me. She doesn’t know who I am, but she’s anxious for help and I might be able to give it to her. Isn’t that what matters the most?
“Molpadia,” the queen says. “Play for our goddess.”
At once, a woman stands, her dark hair tumbling down her shoulders as she smiles at me and takes up a set of bone pipes.
She begins to play and the melody spills into the smoky, aromatic air.
The sound of it sends a shiver across my skin.
There’s a beautiful intensity to the sound and to her as she sways, lost in her own music, tall and magnificent under the stars.
Someone else starts to drum, beating a rhythm with her hands on the stretched skin of her instrument, and the women jump to their feet.
“Dance with us,” Kydoime urges. Dorymache links her hands around the queen’s waist, swaying behind her, and Kydoime turns her face to her lover’s, the two moving together. The music stirs my blood, awakening my body.
The Amazons stamp their feet, lifting their arms to the moon, lithe and sinuous and rhythmic.
More of them snatch up pipes and drums, flutes and lyres, the harmonies mingling, surrounding me on all sides, urging me to join.
They fling more flowering buds into the flames, the smoke as dizzying as the dance, the night air fragrant and delicious.
They dance with the same fervor as I saw them raid earlier; intent and powerful, giving themselves over to instinct, and they sweep me along with them like the current of a river.
Hands seize mine, bodies press close and the stars above us whirl and spiral.
When the women around me are red-cheeked and breathless, they stop to pour more mare’s milk.
I take a step back and laugh, giddy and heated.
Ares isn’t here. I don’t have to run from his ghost.
Melo is singing, her voice so haunting it raises goosebumps across my bare arms. Molpadia, the woman who played the pipes first, pulls me back into the throng.
Her eyes gleam like dark jewels in the firelight.
Her hands are on my waist, her face level with mine, and the music rises around us.
She has the slow, deliberate grace of a prowling panther; so sure and steady as she comes closer and I can smell the earth and salt of her skin.
A grin spreads across her face, wide and fierce and bold, as she spins me, releases me, gathers me back in.
I give myself over to the dance.
—
The women drink like Dionysus. Their stamina and enthusiasm might even exceed his.
But they bear no signs of the night’s excesses the following day.
In the morning, all I see around me are fresh faces, bright eyes and energized movement—girls heading out on the hunt, some coming back to camp with handfuls of fruit, a woman beating a strip of leather, another carrying water.
A group rides out into the distance, while children chase one another, their laughter drifting out across the plains.
I stroll into the main camp. The queen sits in front of her tent, her arms and shoulders bare in the gentle sunlight. Behind her, Dorymache kneels, rubbing an ointment into her skin. It smells sharp, slightly bitter, as she works it into the queen’s strong back.
She looks up at me, nodding in greeting. “Riding all day,” she says, “it makes me ache now. When I was younger, I hardly noticed.”
I look out toward the horizon to see another group of hunters heading out. “Your people seem happy,” I say.
“We are.” She leans back into her lover’s touch, like a lioness stretching out in the sunshine, heavy-lidded with contentment.
“I like the way you live,” I tell her. “I’m glad I came here.”
“We’re glad you did too,” she says. “Won’t you stay longer, Goddess?”
It would be so easy. So tempting. But I can’t forget what they told me last night. These are Ares’ worshippers. This is his land, not mine.
“I must go,” I tell her. “You’ll keep your silence?”
“Of course,” she says.
I take a deep breath. “And your god,” I say. “You say he spends his time north of here. How far?”
She shades her eyes to look at me.
“I wish to avoid him,” I say, straightening my shoulders.
She doesn’t ask any questions, only sketches out the distance and direction for me in a few brisk sentences. A river valley where the grasslands give way to elm and birch trees, where blackthorns and wild roses grow.
“Thank you,” I say. “For last night.”
“Come back,” she tells me. “You’re always welcome here.”
Before I leave, I have one more thing to do. I spotted the girl, Melo, lingering at the edges of the camp. I find her now, inclining my head gently to indicate that she should wait for me around the grassy mound, after I bid goodbye to the queen.
I waste no time in getting to the point when I reach her. “I saw you,” I tell her. “With the boy from the tribe your sisters attacked.”
She chews her fingernail, glancing back in the direction of her camp.
“Don’t worry,” I say. “They won’t see us talking together. But tell me, what is it that you want?”
She turns her eyes up to me, imploring. “I want to be with him,” she says.
“Then can’t you stay?” I ask her. “Your queen said that all of you are free to live as you please.”
“No,” she says. “I don’t want to lose my people, or join his. I want to keep riding.”
“And if they knew?” I ask her.
“You heard her,” she says. “My sisters will never accept him or his brothers.”
I frown. “His brothers?”
She nods. “There are more of us who meet.” Her voice is low and urgent. “I’m not the only one. We try to keep our tribes close, so that we can ride out to find each other when the opportunities arise. Only—”
“Then the Amazons attack them,” I finish for her.
“We put them at risk every time.” Her gaze drops to the ground, downcast.
“This boy,” I say. “What do his elders think of this? Do they know?”
“No,” she says. “They try to keep a distance from us; they don’t know how we keep finding them.
They left their homes. They didn’t want to live a settled life in wagons, so they struck out on their own.
They hoped once to find women of a like mind to them, who would share their taste for adventure. ”
I shake my head. “From the looks of them yesterday,” I say, “it seems their taste for adventure is wearing thin.”
“If I could find a way,” she says, “to show the queen that these men aren’t like the others she’s known. That they don’t seek to conquer the Amazons, simply to live peacefully alongside us.”
“Have you tried?” I ask her.
“No.” She sighs. “She’ll think I’m naive. Too young and inexperienced.”
I wait.
“But I know that I love him,” she says. “I know they don’t mean us any harm, and if they did they are no match for us. But you, Goddess.” Her eyes fill with hope. “You could talk to her. You could look into their hearts and see their good intentions.”
“I’m not sure that your queen would be so easily persuaded,” I say drily. “Even by me. I’m not her goddess, after all.”
She hangs her head.
“I can read their hearts, and I will,” I say.
She clasps her hands together. “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet,” I warn her. “You might have to make a choice.”
“What choice?” she asks.
I hold her gaze, frank and open. “Between your people and your love. Think carefully about it while I’m gone, Melo.” I take a deep breath. “Be sure of what you want. You might not get a second chance.”