Wednesday, January 26, 2011

Chapter 13 continues

     Amara began to tell the sad tale as she set close to the King of Sparta, so close she inhaled his scent. Now this was a certain odor she had smelled before, the pungent sweet scent of olive oil and bay leaves. Amara was shocked when she recalled his scent permeating from Thera's sheets. Amara said nothing of this while she told the men gathered there at the table a brief history of her people. "One dark day, about seven hundred years ago, our fore mothers lived in the port city of Haifa by the bright blue waters of the Mediterranean Sea. A raiding party of slave traders from Lydia laid waste to the city. The men did their best but the women and young girls, of breeding age, were taken. About sixty women altogether." Amara paused as she let this new information soak into the buds of their minds. "They were placed on a large sailing vessel, shackled and chained as slaves, until in the evening, as the ships sailed North, one of the clever women, named Ephesia, seduced the ships captain out of her chains, and as she lay there giving him pleasure she stabbed him in the side with his own dagger. Silently, Ephesia crept back down into the cargo hold where she unlocked all the women, letting them loose upon the sleeping men. The enraged women took their revenge beating the men to death as they slept, slitting throats and slicing open bellies, blood was as wet as dew upon the ropes, deck and unfurled sails." here she paused again for dramatic affect, as Amara, a master story teller, was want to do. "Now our poor, dear ladies had no knowledge of the sea, or sailing, or steering, so they were tossed about upon the water at the will of the wind. Swiftly drifting to the north and east, past Hellespont and Troy, through the Bosporus into the Black Sea, where a raging storm left the remnants of the ship, and her survivors, stranded upon the Scythian shores."
     Thera looked up from the list of items in her treasury at this point in the story, as she watched the reaction upon the face of the King whilst hearing the tale for the very first time. Queen Thera delighted in Amara's telling of the tale, as her dear old friend loved to be the center of attention, and here, this table under the cherry blossoms would serve as her stage.
     "Now, the half drown ladies sought shelter in the caves by the shore. They were forced to make their way by making night time raids upon the neighboring villages taking, food, cloth, goats and horses, whatever they needed. They survived for about five years in this way, until one day the King of Scythia, who could not eradicate these tempestuous thieving ladies, decided to form an Accord with the wild women."
     "What of the bargain?" King Vyakles wanted to know.
     "They decided upon a breeding campaign. For the women refused marriage to the Scythian's, who were poor horsemen, terrible fighters and required their women to be obedient and docile. Yet these women had won their freedom through blood, domestication was out of the question. However, they needed to breed, for without children the women would die out and be forgotten to History. This is the time when they offered up all their sons for provisions, horses, crops and orchards, keeping only their daughters with them, teaching them their ways, how to ride, and hunt, think, weave, cook and fight." again Amara 'the story teller' paused then she smiled and turned to Vyakles looking deeply in his dark eyes "Now, here it is six hundred years later and here I am, a direct descendant of those brave ladies! As we all are here the women Themiscyra!" Amara proclaimed with hearty good cheer to the applause of Themiscyran women.
     "Praise Zeus those brave ladies survived the tragedy! We, ourselves, feel now more blessed than ever by the Gods and Goddesses to share in your culture and knowledge." Vyakles said as he turned to give Queen Thera a sympathetic look of care and understanding.
     "What of the Island of Samos?" Admiral Vasha asked still intrigued. "You have neglected to tell this part of your tale."
     Here the mood shifted from one of elevation in the women, to a deep and somber sadness seen in their faces and felt in their presence as Amara said sadly shaking her head saying "Ah, the Island of Samos.., our saddest tale to tell."

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