Amazon Moon (22 page)

"Men, you are liberated, saved by the army of Kavopolis. I am Commander Patros and my men are the finest fighters in all of Greece. We will take you home to freedom. These women will be returned to their proper place in bondage."

The surviving females were tied together by their necks into a string of prisoners. All the Amazon horses and wagons were brought. Bodies of the dead Greek warriors were loaded into two wagons. Weapons collected from dead Amazons and Greeks alike filled another. Then the soldiers ransacked buildings, carrying out treasure that had been scavenged from caravan raids. It filled a fourth wagon. Male slaves were helped into a fifth wagon, along with five tiny girls from the playroom, wailing. The wounded Greeks were lifted into a sixth, which would convey the commander and surviving soldiers. Finally the victors carried bread from the bakery for the long trip home. The triumphal caravan of wagons and tied-together women—a military victory procession—was ready to leave.

It didn't occur to the surviving Greeks to look in the vacant barn. Litha and I remained frozen in silence, keeping our faces slightly back from the portals, hidden in shadows. Then we lay in the straw, listening to sounds of the departing wagon train.

"Oh God!—Mitha!" Litha whispered hoarsely.

"Maybe she escaped from her sentry spot when the attack started," I offered.

Litha wasn't consoled. She was frantic. I held her tight as the last wagon sounds faded. We waited and waited. Utter silence filled the village. Through the vents we saw Amazon bodies strewn everywhere, but no signs of life.

We pondered how to unlock our cell. We shook the door but the bar remained lodged. We looked around the attic chamber. Eventually we found a slender stick amid the straw. Poking it through a crack, we succeeded in lifting the outer bar from its cradle and the door swung open. But we remained trapped high above the barn floor. With my damaged knees, I couldn't jump from the landing, so I gripped Litha's wrists and lowered her. She replaced the ladder for me to descend.

We emerged into the valley of death. I stared at the Amazon corpses, feeling sick. But Litha seemed obsessed. Without a word, she ran toward the sentry post at the valley's mouth. Eventually she returned, sobbing.

For the rest of the day, we seemed unable to move. We sat by the pool, clutching each other. Litha wept repeatedly. That night we went to her room in the novice building. Strangely, the overwhelming emotions of the day caused an unexpected effect: We made love desperately, almost in agony, then fell asleep.

Next morning, we surveyed the carnage. We decided to bury the bodies quickly, because we didn't want to see our friends decay. Altogether, twenty-six dead Amazons lay in the town. We lacked the strength to carry them up to the burial knoll and dig so many graves. One by one, we pulled them to a small depression in the ground. We lay them side by side, with their arms folded. We put the War Queen at one end of the row and the Home Queen at the other. Princess Xanthia lay beside onetime slaves and concubines, equal in death. From a sandy bank we scooped loose dirt and covered them. And we placed flat stones above them as markers.

On a rise near a hillside, the War Queen's tomb stood finished except for placement of wide roof rocks. Litha and I decided that this place of honor should belong to her sister. I limped with her to the valley mouth and we carried Mitha back. We lowered her gently into the tomb. Litha clutched me and sobbed again.

Then we searched the buildings for remaining finery to entomb with Mitha. We installed most of the sepulcher roof. But we didn't cement the final stone, because I wanted to enclose my written account of the Amazons, as soon as I added their violent end. To my relief, the looting soldiers hadn't taken my stash of parchments. The illiterate warriors probably considered writing worthless.

Litha picked wildflowers and laid them in her sister's tomb.

The following day, under bushes, we found the body of Comella, who had staggered out of sight and died of wounds. She still clutched her ancient bronze shield and new iron battleaxe. We buried her with her weapons near Mitha's tomb like a guardian.

Silence hung over the empty Amazon village that once rang with life.

34

Nature doesn't care whether people slaughter each other. After the battle of the Amazon village, sunshine and moonlight still graced the hidden valley. Squirrels scampered in trees as before, and birds flitted. Figs continued to ripen in their grove, as did olives in their trees and grapes in their arbor. Sheep in the hill pastures still grazed placidly. Goats in the upper valley still swelled with milk. Late beans ripened in the fields. A shower washed away bloodstains, and grasses sprouted on the new graves. Nature continued as if nothing had happened.

No horses, wagons, weapons or treasures remained in the colony, but a pantry overlooked by the Greek soldiers contained dried food, and late crops ripened. Without discussion, Litha and I knew that we would continue living alone in the deserted village. It would have been unthinkable to return to the ruthless outside world. I felt revulsion toward my own people, and I couldn't limp all the way to her Slavic homeland without horses.

We moved into the War Queen's large quarters, finest in the village. We hoped that no outsiders would return to disturb our hideaway. If they did, we agreed, we would slip furtively into the woods and hide at the shepherd cottage out of sight in the hills. We stored dried food there in case of such an intrusion.

The coming time was sad, yet strangely satisfying. We milked the nanny goats each evening. We havested beans, figs and grapes. We swam naked in the pool daily. Sometimes we made love on the grass beside the pool. At nights we had rapturous sex on the War Queen's luxurious pallet. In mornings, watching Litha sleep beside me, feeling the warmth of her nearness, seeing her belly begin to swell with our baby, brought me serenity.

We saw clearly that the simple life—just being together, helping each other, working side by side, caring for each other—is an unshakable foundation. It gives more inner peace than all the rewards and possessions pursued in life.

Mostly we talked, confiding our thoughts and feelings. In long discussions, we articulated our own truths. We pondered them again and again. Now, with Litha looking over my shoulder, I am recording our conclusions for any who may someday find these writings:

First, the war urge is animal savagery. People have a combat instinct like the drive that makes strange dogs lunge and bite each other. Greek warriors kill Ionians. Ionian soldiers kill Corinthians. Thracians kill Amazons. Amazons kill Scythians. Spartans kill Athenians. Thessalonians kill Phocians. There's never a time when warriors aren't fighting. It is insane. Both sides lose. Communities fear and hate each other without reason. It's a terrible waste of lives and wealth. Think of the prosperity people might enjoy if their strong sons stayed home and worked, instead of being sent to kill the sons of other lands. In every city, politicians praise the noble patriotism of those who battle for their homeland. The politicians spend the public's gold for bigger armies and more deadly weaponry. When five hundred of their young men die in a battle, but a thousand enemy youths are killed, it is called a great victory for the honor of the homeland. It is madness. Nearly all the slaughter is by males, yet it was just as mad when Amazons took up warfare.

Second, all the prayers to invisible gods, all the sacrifices on altars, all the pleas to oracles, all the casting of bones and charting of horoscopes, are futile and childish. The many, many temples and shrines are based upon make-believe. Every day in Greece, ten thousand prayers are chanted to Zeus, and ten thousand to Aphrodite, and a hundred thousand to the other gods. And multitudes of goats, lambs, dogs, chickens, even horses and oxen, are sacrificed on their altars. And long lines of people wait to question the oracles. But it's all fantasy. It never brings healings or good weather or victory in war. There are no gods on Mount Olympus or anywhere else. They're myths dreamed up by superstitious people. Priests proclaim the "truth" of the deities to give themselves power over others. They put people to death for questioning their dogma. Nobody can know whether heavens and hells await after death, as the priests claim, so it is pointless to expend prayers and sacrifices on an unlikely afterlife.

One evening Litha and I dragged the three wooden goddess statues from their shrine and burned them as a cheery bonfire by the bathing pool. Hera, Aphrodite and Artemis crackled nicely, lighting the darkness. It was the only time they gave enlightenment.

Another evil is the sway of masters over underlings and males over females. Who gave the lords such power? Who decreed that the Overseer could rule everyone in Aegolus and own Litha as a possession, to be flogged when he wanted? No god appeared and bestowed that authority on him. This code of domination must have grown long ago, when big men subjugated small women, and the strongest men subjugated weaker ones.

The only pure value we can find is for two lovers to hold fast together, giving each other comfort and strength and shelter from the surrounding turmoil. Litha and I have pledged to raise our children in love and security to the utmost of our ability, and to remain bonded until death, with neither the ruler of the other. Without priests or magistrates, we have formed our own marriage.

This concludes our record of the Amazons and the story of our lives so far. Today, Litha and I will seal these books in the vault with Mitha in hope that our words someday will be shared by people who find the Amazon tomb.

35

Jack and Carolina rode to the Ankara Airport in a university car driven by a clerk of the Turkish Antiquities Ministry. They jetted to London to begin their book tour. Thanks to Dr. Chichester's connections, a British publisher had printed their translation of the amazing record left by the scribe Melos and his beloved Litha, telling of the fearless Amazons. The popular book became an international success, translated into a dozen languages, and they were scheduled for speaking appearances. The volume, along with their other work on the Thermodon find, became material toward their archeology doctorates.

For their book lectures, Carolina prepared a Power Point slide show of Amazon sculptures and pottery scenes, plus photos of the Thermodon dig and the codexes left by Melos and Litha.

Women's groups delighted in the account of fierce females who fought back in a male world. The two young archeologists stressed that the Amazons probably wouldn't have become warriors if ancient Greece's slavery and extreme male dominance hadn't driven them to rebel. At London's Royal Albert Hall, before a mixed audience, Carolina and Jack presented an overview on male supremacy. She began:

"Except for the fleeting episode of the Amazons, masculine rule has prevailed in every culture known on this planet. Until our discovery, no researcher ever found a matriarchal society or even one with gender equality. In the 1930s, Margaret Mead thought she found a female-led group in New Guinea, but she later reversed her conclusion and wrote: 'All the claims so glibly made about societies ruled by women are nonsense. We have no reason to believe that they ever existed.... Men everywhere have been in charge of running the show.' Well, Mead was wrong twice. Our discovery in the Thermodon Valley revealed a brief female reign."

Jack continued:

"Obviously, male dominance grew in prehistoric or even pre-human times, deriving from anatomy and biology. Heavier, stronger males are better suited for fighting off predators, killing game and building shelters. Women, lighter and built for baby-bearing, inescapably must produce the children. Childbirth is a vulnerable time when they need protection in a secure nest, making them dependent on men who guarded the nest and brought food. Undoubtedly, this biological reality set the stage for men to be out in the world, aggressive, while women tended the home and children, nurturing them. Today, the unanswered question is: Did this primitive pattern make men permanently the assertive gender, leaving women forever consigned to more passive roles?"

Carolina:

"As civilization grew and mental abilities, not physical brawn, slowly became the deciding factor of success, why didn't women make greater advances? There never was a female Socrates, or female Shakespeare, or female Beethoven, or female Rembrandt, or female Einstein, or female world chess champion. I think it's because the burden of tending babies, preparing food, making clothes, and the rest of home duty is so overwhelming that women historically had no time or energy for mind games. This bred cultural prejudice that deemed women unsuited for bold, dynamic roles. For centuries, it would have been absurd to suggest educating women for careers in science or business or politics because it 'simply wasn't done.' Women were denied the right to vote until recently. Incredibly, Swiss women didn't gain full voting rights in all districts until 1991. Women couldn't serve on juries in some American states until the 1950s. America still refuses to pass an Equal Rights Amendment to its constitution. Most Muslim countries today treat women the way Christian lands did in medieval times."

Jack:

"Some of us men are ardent feminists. Not only do we want full equality for women, but we think women's values are superior, deserving priority. Men's values focus on warfare, competition for wealth, and other sorts of rivalry, which add up to privilege for the superior or fortunate ones. Men always have waged war and committed the vast majority of crimes and violence. Women's values usually are those of home and family. They focus on nurture and care: better nutrition, better education, better health, better job security, better housing, more freedom to limit family size, reduction of poverty, equal treatment of everyone, better protection for the elderly and infirm, and other personal safeguards that make families secure."

Carolina:

"When Nietzsche wrote
The Will to Power
, he really wasn't talking about females. Although a rare few women may crave to thrust themselves into dominance, the desire for power has been a male urge since prehistoric time. Men are propelled by testosterone. They will drive themselves relentlessly and suffer hardship in striving to gain high status. But women don't want to be King of the Mountain the way men do. The masculine Will to Power may be rooted in the same biochemistry seen in animal species which have fierce competition for the role of ‘alpha male.’”