Amazon Moon (12 page)

Pytheas watched recurring tides and concluded that they are caused by a pull of the moon.

Anaxagoras, who taught in Athens at the time of Pericles, declared that the sun and moon are natural bodies, not deities. He said the sun is aflame and the moon merely reflects the sun's light. For his writings, he was sentenced to death for doubting the gods, but Pericles interceded for him and he was allowed to depart into exile.

Aristarchus of Samos wrote that the sun is the center of the universe. He also measured the distance to the sun by using the visible moon in late afternoon. When the moon was exactly half-lit, he knew that a line from earth to the moon, thence to the sun, would form a right angle. So he calculated the angle of the sun in the west, completing a triangle of the three bodies, and established that the sun is nineteen times farther away than the moon.

Archimedes used water displacement ingeniously. King Hieron II of Syracuse commissioned an ornate gold crown, but after receiving it he suspected that the goldsmith had mixed cheaper silver with the gold as an alloy. The king asked Archimedes to determine if this fakery had occurred. Since gold weighs nearly twice as much as silver, the riddle could have been solved easily by weighing the crown and comparing with a quantity of pure gold of the same volume. But it was impossible to compute the volume of the elaborate crown with many curves and protrusions. As Archimedes sat down in his bath, he saw the water rise in the tub by precisely the volume of his submerged body. He shouted "Eureka," because he realized that submerging the crown in a container would raise the water level by an easily measured amount exactly matching the volume of the crown.

All these achievements seemed wondrous to me. I felt proud that people can use their minds to reach remarkable findings. The scroll would be good for my students to read—but I must omit the assertions that caused Anaxagoras to be sentenced for impiety.

My apprehension about irreligious writing quickly worsened. I found another leather pouch containing what must have been the collection of a Skeptic teacher. Bound sheets of papyrus and parchment were filled with writings copied from Greek thinkers who questioned the gods.

One was by Aristotle, Dalien's hero. It said: "Men create gods after their own image, not only with regard to their form but regard to their mode of life." Aristotle, too, was charged with impiety and fled into exile, the document said.

The rest were from Greeks unknown to me:

Euripides: "Do we, holding that gods exist, deceive ourselves with unsubstantial dreams and lies, while random chance and change alone control the world?"

Plato: "He was a wise man who invented God."

Simonides: "The longer I consider the subject of God, the more obscure it becomes."

Xenophanes: "Men imagine gods to be born and to have raiment and voice and body like themselves. But if oxen, lions and horses had hands wherewith to grave images, they would fashion gods after their own shape."

Critias: "It was man who first made men believe in gods."

Hilariously, the writings said the cynic Diogenes cracked a louse on an altar and proclaimed to all within hearing: "Thus does Diogenes sacrifice to all the gods at once."

A fresh scroll of new parchment bore the title
Aphorisms
, by Epicurus of Samos. As I read, I was struck by his clear proof that a merciful god cannot exist, or he would prevent the diseases, tragedies and heartbreaks suffered by humanity. The words were simple and direct:

"Either God wants to abolish evil, and cannot; or He can, but does not want to. If He wants to, but cannot, He is impotent. If He can, but does not want to, He is wicked. If, as they say, God can abolish evil, and God really wants to do it, why is there evil in the world?"

Needless to say, I realized that these documents would bring me punishment worse than flogging. Hastily I hid them under other caravan treasures. I knew that Priestess Eila wouldn't find them, and couldn't read them if she did, because she was the only Amazon who never attended my reading classes.

That night in bed with Litha, as we lay close after lovemaking, I recited the logic of Epicurus.

"It's irrefutable. It doesn't disprove vile gods, or indifferent ones who care nothing about people, but it proves there's no compassionate god who answers people's prayers for relief."

Litha's eyes shone and she nodded.

"Yes. Remember how the Amazons prayed for Celeste and sacrificed goats to save her, when she was dying of her wounds. If the goddesses love us, they would have healed Celeste's misery. But they let her die. So there are only two possibilities: Either the gods don't care if we suffer and die, or they don't exist."

I added:

"Remember the plague that wiped out this farm village, before the Amazons arrived. Imagine all those villagers praying day after day, and sacrificing all their animals, and even a child. But the horrible sickness didn't stop. Only a cruel god would have let them suffer—or a nonexistent god."

Litha put her hand over my mouth.

"Never let anyone hear you say that, or Eila will skin you alive before the goddess statues."

I pulled Litha atop me, enjoying the enchantment of her bare body.

"However," I told her, "if Zeus fashioned such a wonderful creature as you, maybe I will change my mind about deities."

16

Days of Amazon life were mostly alike. Women, girls and slaves awoke and breakfasted on bread, plus milk collected the previous evening from nanny goats in the upper valley. In the summer heat, milk survived unspoiled only a single night. After breakfast we male slaves waited outside our quarters until the Home Queen arrived to assign the day's labors. Then we limped off to the crop fields, the brickmaking spot, the bread bakery and other workplaces. Because of our leg impairments, most of us sat or hobbled as we worked.

Today, my morning duty before my afternoon teaching session was to grind dry wheat reaped from the fields. In the bakery building, long-bearded Ankus and I sat beside a wide stone grinding bowl. Astelle, the chief Amazon baker, scooped a gourd full of wheat into the basin as we pulverized it by rolling round rocks. Then Astelle removed the flour and scooped in more wheat.

At midday Litha brought food and we ate together on the creek bank in the shade of overhanging willows. She was tense with news.

"Mitha has been chosen for her first raid. I fear for her, because she never has fought against men."

Litha explained: During the night, Olandra, the Black Sea lookout, rode back to report an eastbound caravan containing two strings of slaves tied by their necks—one string male, the other female—plus a slave-carried divan of an important person. At the morning warrior drill, Saria organized a squad to ride down the Thermodon Valley and strike the caravan while it camped at night. Mitha, who had been training in horseback combat for a month, eagerly volunteered.

Litha and I stared at each other.

"Mitha never has killed anyone," I said. "Do you think she can do it?"

Litha was silent a moment. She tossed pebbles into the creek.

"I don't want her to be a killer. But that's what warriors do. There's no choice. I was proud when she was picked for warrior training, but now I'm not sure."

That afternoon, as I taught my reading pupils, I was distracted by thoughts of the coming raid. Litha didn't attend my class because she was seeing her sister off with the attack squad.

In the evening I hurried through dinner. I wasn't summoned to an Amazon bed, so I rushed to Litha's room. Anxiety over Mitha had an unexpected effect on us: we clutched each other intensely and made love. Then we fell into a deep sleep.

Next morning we still slept, nude in the muggy warmth, when shouts and sounds awoke us. The raiding party had returned with captured wagons full of loot, including a wagon bearing fifteen freed slave women. Another wagon contained three finely dressed young women, blindfolded as prisoners, with their hands bound behind them. We scurried from Litha's quarters, pulling on our clothes. Mitha spied us and hurried over with a happy report:

"We won without striking a blow. While the caravan lay asleep, we rode in with our swords and axes flashing, all of us whooping war shouts as loud as we could. The terrified guards ran off into the dunes, some of them naked as plucked chickens. They left behind their weapons and everything.

"Queen Saria told the leaders of the caravan—I think they were Arabs—that they could run too or be executed. They knew enough Greek to understand her words, since they had been on a slave-buying trip into Greece. They too fled empty-handed into the dunes. Then Saria told the male slaves they were free to go where they pleased. The Amazons cut off their neck ropes. The men looked confused, but they gathered bags of food and departed in the opposite direction from the caravan guards, heading westward back toward Greece.

"Next Saria told the women slaves they could choose their future: they could depart on foot after the male slaves or they could return with us to join the Amazon clan, where they would be sure of food and shelter. The captives talked among themselves and decided to become Amazons. They really had little choice, because they would have been easy prey alone and defenseless along the Black Sea coast.

"Finally we went to an elegant tent beside the curtained divan. We found a princess from Xanthe with her two maids. The princess was furious. She said she was Lady Xanthia from Xanthe and we commoners had no right to touch a person of royal blood. She said she was being carried to the eastern shore of the Black Sea to become the third wife of a Pasha's son, to bind diplomatic relations between Xanthe and the Pasha. She warned us that both the Pasha and the Xanthe Assembly will send armies to destroy Amazons and free her.

"Queen Saria told her to hush or a gag would be tied in her mouth. Saria said some of our Amazons also have royal blood, being daughters of court concubines. We decided to hold the princess and her maids for ransom. We blindfolded them so they could not remember the path to our hideout."

All around us, Amazons boisterously welcomed the freed slaves to life in the secret female colony. Then the blindfolds and ropes were removed from the three captives. Princess Xanthia, tall and refined, looked around the village with scorn as her group was led to quarters.

Litha and I felt relief that Mitha was home safe and hadn't needed to use her new killing skills.

* * *

In coming days, the freed slaves began attending my reading class, and soon were mastering the Greek alphabet and learning words as most of the Amazon community had done. Princess Xanthia, having enjoyed personal tutors, needed no instruction, and she kept her two attendants close by her side. The captive princess and her maids were allowed to roam the village as they liked. They observed the Amazons at work and play, but refused an invitation to join the nude bathing. At night a sentry lounged outside their building, in case of an escape attempt.

At the next council meeting, I kept notes as Amazon leaders discussed plans to ransom them. Hella suggested that I write a ransom note in large letters for Olandra to post late at night in the main square at Balaris, the port city at the mouth of the Thermodon. Council members debated the type of ransom that might be demanded. After a while the War Queen stood and addressed the assembly:

"Comrades, I have a different thought. We have no need of ransom. If we asked for a hundred gold pieces, what good would they be to us? We cannot spend them in our hidden valley. And it would be pointless to ask for weapons, or garments, or jewelry, or other possessions, because we take all we need from caravans. Instead of seeking ransom, I suggest that we blindfold the captives again and set them free in Balaris late at night, voluntarily liberated by us, as a magnanimous gesture to show outsiders that we are not savages."

Murmurs of assent followed. After brief discussion, the council approved Saria's plan. The following day, Xanthia and her maids were brought before the council. The War Queen announced the decision, adding with a faint hint of sarcasm:

"You will be free to proceed on your eastward journey to become the third wife of a Pasha's son, and you maids can resume your role as royal attendants."

The princess smiled broadly and expressed gratitude. But the maids were silent and looked at each other. After a pause, the taller one addressed the council:

"We have been observing your village and talking privately between us. We have seen free women for the first time in our lives. We beg that you let us join your community."

The princess looked hurt. The shorter maid glanced apologetically at her, but nodded in agreement. Council members consulted each other and voted to accept the maids. It was decided that Xanthia alone would be set free in Balaris. It was agreed that her release would be done three nights hence. In the meantime she was free to partake of village life. She wandered and observed, even joining Amazons in the pool.

An odd thing occurred: On the third evening, Xanthia bade farewell to her maids and mounted a horse, ready to be escorted down the valley to Balaris. Both Amazon queens were on hand to see her off. But the princess looked troubled, uncertain. Just before the blindfold was to be secured, she said "wait!" She put her hands to her face, distressed. After a moment, she took a deep breath, composed herself, and announced:

"I too wish to remain in your village. Even in the Pasha's court, I would not enjoy the freedom you share."

Applause and embraces followed. The maids rushed to hug their former ruler, now their equal.

Later that night, as Litha and I lay in bed, she asked me:

"Do you suppose the council delayed the princess's release for three days so she would feel the spirit of our community and choose to stay?"

"That's exactly what I was thinking," I replied.

17

From her lifetime of privilege, Princess Xanthia wore the poise of nobility. Yet now she strove to become merely an equal in the Amazon community. She sought acceptance by former slave women and concubines. It was touching to observe a "royal" subtly imploring low-caste commoners to consider her worthy of their friendship.