Amazon Challenge (16 page)

I shrugged. "You caught me kissing him. I might point out he didn't kiss me back."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Omie is very kind. She will make sure it is special for you, Beria."

"I'm afraid, but I'm tired of waiting."

"I'm going to give you some advice, but I don't think you're going to take it."

"Then why give it to me?"

"Because it will make me feel better."

She laughed. "Fine."

"Don't hurry this. If you're not kissing that way yet, then don't go straight to sex on your sixteenth birthday. Take your time. And when you finally decide it's time, make Omie work for it."

She smiled. "Did you make Malora work for it?"

"Months, and I was twenty-two."

She turned to the fire, and together we watched the flames crackle for a few minutes. "What do you suppose we'd be doing if we were home?"

"I imagine listening to everyone laugh about my purple skin."

She nudged me. "Be serious."

"I don't know if I can be serious about being purple."

"Come on, Maya."

"I imagine I'd be doing lesson planning and scowling at you because I would know you were shirking your math."

"I hate math."

"I know."

"No math is one of the many things I love about being an Amazon."

"I thought the best part was beating up your big sister on the training field."

"That part is pretty good, too."

"Or seeing her stark naked with purple skin."

"That was pretty funny. Are you mad?"

"Yep, but that's our secret."

"Going to get even?"

"No."

"But you could."

"Yep, but I couldn't possibly get even enough, so I have to let it go instead."

"We could sneak out and salt their garden tonight."

"If we got caught, we'd both get a real punishment. I think it would involve a whip, Beria, and we'd deserve it."

"Are you mad at Malora?"

"She's still Queen Malora to you."

"Fine. Are you mad at your warrior?"

"Yep."

"Are you mad at me?"

"I was a little, but that didn't last."

"Will it wash off?"

"Eventually."

"We could put poison ivy in their bed."

"Beria, I need you to not worry about this. Please."

"You're my sister. They did this to you, they did it to me."

I hugged her. "I love you, too."

"If it were me, you wouldn't let them get away with it."

"Unless you deserved it. If you do anything, the chances of you getting caught are high, but if they don
't catch you, they'll blame me."

"Without proof-"

"Honey, do you think Loren is going to need proof?"

"But-"

"Your sister is purple as a prank. What do you think will happen if they think I really deserved punishment? I'm sorry, but you need to let this go, but I feel better knowing you're willing to stick up for me."

"Unlike Malora."

"Yeah, unlike Malora."

I finished my beer. "Want me to get you another one?" Beria asked me.

"No, I'll get my own. Go back to Omie now." I hugged her once more and we helped each other stand up.

Beria returned to Omie, and I headed for a beer. When I turned
around to return to the fire, Meena was standing there, watching me. I stared at her, not saying a word. I knew I wouldn't be able to be civil if I opened my mouth.

I offered a false smile then tried to step past her, but she moved into my path. I stepped back, set down my mug of beer, and unlimbered my staff from my back. Her eyes grew wide, and she held her hands out, open, showing no weapon.

"Good joke, Meena. Now get out of my way."

"She's been planning it for months."

"So she said. I'm glad my upcoming weeks of humiliation amuse everyone else. I noticed you grinning, so you must have enjoyed it as much as anyone."

"Please don't be mad."

I stepped back, grabbing my beer, and downed it in one long gulp, then turned back to the keg and, one handed, filled the mug again.

"What do you want, Meena?"

"I want to know you're not mad."

"Do I have reason to be angry, Meena? Would you be angry? Would Loren? I wonder how Malora or Nori would respond. I'm sure you would all laugh along with the joke, so I'll do the same. Now will you please get out of my way?"

"It's temporary."

"Memories aren't. Now, are you going to get out of my way or not?"

She stepped to the side, and I stormed past her, not replacing my staff across my back. It was uncomfortable while sitting on the ground, anyway.

Everyone watched me return to my spot on the ground, and I saw more than a few smiles at my purple skin. I sat down, setting my staff on the ground next to me, and stared into the fire, holding my beer.

A minute later, Malora sat down next to me.

"I thought I told you to sit over there," I told her.

"Did you have to use the staff?"

"I wasn't sure I wouldn't need to, but I didn't."

"Will you play your fiddle?"

"I didn't bring it."

"I did."

I turned my head to look at her.

"You once told me you didn't mind looking ridiculous, you minded being ridiculous," Malora said.

"Well it appears I don't know myself as well as I thought I did."

"Please, Maya. It will make them feel bad for their prank."

"Your attempts to motivate me are pretty obvious
and not very good."

"I wasn't trying to be subtle."

"I think I've been the entertainment enough tonight. You want to hear the fiddle played, you play it."

"I'll tell you what: if you don't play it, I will. Do you want me touching it?"

"Do you really think I'm in the mood for this conversation? Go away, Malora."

"Maya, it will make you feel better."

"Right now I am not interested in feeling better."

"If you play, it will show them no one beat you, Maya."

I sat there staring at the fire, trying not to cry. "But they did, didn't they, Malora?"

"Only if you let them."

I turned to look at her. "I don't believe this was all part of any plan to help with morale. This was done to humiliate me, plain and simple. Well, it worked."

"Maya, for me, will you please play your fiddle?"

"You let her do this to me. You let her humiliate me in front of every single Amazon. I don't owe you any favors right now, Malora."

"Please, Maya."

I sighed. "If you make me play the fiddle, I'm playing nothing but laments, and I'm keeping everyone up all night." She always asked me to play upbeat songs, and if the village needed laughter, I didn't think laments were what she had in mind.

"Play whatever you
want for however long you want," Malora replied. "Absolutely no one is going to stop you."

"You suck."

"Later."

I pushed her away. "Knock it off.
"

"You like it when I suck."

"One more comment, and no fiddle."

She raised her hand, and an instant
later, Beria was there with my fiddle case. She held it out to me.

"You really want me to play this?" I asked, taking the fiddle from my sister.

"Very much so."

"You owe me, Malora," I said.
"And stay away from me."

I opened the fiddle case and pulled out my fiddle and bow. I closed the case and handed it back to Beria,
then I shoved my beer into Malora's hands and stood up. I tuned the fiddle, ignoring everyone, then I moved away, standing beside the fire, not directly in everyone's sight.

I began playing a long, slow song. The song had no words, but it was full of emotion. I played softly at first, facing the fire and not the Amazons, and at first only a few noticed me.

From the sound, I could tell that more and more were starting to listen. Their voices grew quiet, and still I played.

Then I began to improvise. I thought about Gallen's Cove and the ocean in the summer, soft and peaceful. I thought of my mother, and I added a little long, quavering note that was
she. Then I thought of my father, playing only the lowest notes on the lowest string. I thought of my sister, and I added a high trill.

I thought of winter, cold and wet, and I didn't know how to think about that musically, so I just played for a while, thinking about the dark nights.

Spring came, and I let the song turn happy, but then Nori and the Amazons came to Gallen's cove, and the song turned sharp and staccato, the music angry. I thought about my ride across the front of Nori's saddle, my arms tied painfully, and I grew angrier, my anger coming out in the music. As hurt and angry as I was, that wasn't hard.

Then I calmed down, and I thought of friends, and then friends lost. I thought of the night I killed the demon, the violence, and then the sense of loss.

In her way, she had loved me, the best a demon could, and even in my freedom, there was still loss.

I let my thoughts roam, thinking of Malora for a time, and Beria. I thought about how much I missed my family and taking a skiff out on the cove.

It wasn't really a song, it was just playing. I didn't know how the listening Amazons were reacting to the music, but I didn't care. I was playing for me, only for me.

I turned further away from them, my back to all of them, and I played. I thought of the night and played a dark, minor key. I thought of swimming in the river, and the fish I could catch, and I played bright, cheerful sounds, the fish jumping across the strings.

It was chaotic, a little of this, a little of that, but I poured my heart into my bow.

I don't know how long I played until finally I let the bow grow still. I lowered my fiddle for a moment,
then stood there, breathing, no one saying a word.

I lifted the fiddle again, set the bow across the strings, and played four measures in a minor key, a portion of a lament, but then I shifted, and the song became a jig.

I played three jigs in a row. No one danced, or if they did, I didn't notice. And then I began a lament, playing it even more slowly than I might normally. I finished, and then as the last note died, I raised my voice.

"Sister, I need you."

Someone approached, and then Beria stood next to me.

"You know this song," I said. But I played a simple children's song. Beria laughed and sang the words, but then I played another lament, this one about the sea, and
Beria knew those words as well. She sang. She was not a strong singer, but she held the song well enough, and when the last note died, I kissed her quickly before sending her away.

I played and played, my back to the Amazons the entire time. I never looked at them, and if they responded, I didn't know it. I didn't particularly care.

I wasn't a great musician, and the songs I played were simple, lacking the flourishes a better musician would include. But the notes were clear and my bowing was strong. And still I played.

And then Malora was there, her arm around my shoulder, her hand on mine. Together we bowed the last note of the song, and slowly I lowered the fiddle.

Malora took the fiddle from me, handing it to my sister, and then, with her arm around my shoulder, she led me to bed.

No one said a word.

I was, as expected, a laughingstock in every village we visited. I held my head high and made up the wildest li
es as to why my skin was purple, but in most villages, the truth came out, sometimes from me, sometimes from one of my traveling companions.

I was surprised by the response. I was treated very well, in between the chuckles and shaken heads. None of it made me
feel better, but I pretended I was over it. Privately, I wasn't pleasant to anyone, and remained withdrawn when I wasn't outright caustic.

Malora knew I remained upset. She asked me quietly about it. "I work
ed so hard to earn respect, and now it's all gone again. For the rest of my life, I'll be the companion turned purple in a prank. No one is ever going to forget. Just drop it, Malora."

We reached Northglen and turned west for the plains. Malora asked if I wanted to go shopping, and I looked her as if she were insane. And so we rode south, following the edge of the forest, each of us riding her own horse and moving quickly.

Two weeks after we had set out, we arrived in one of the southern villages named Green Arrow. I knew Green Arrow, and it was not my favorite village. This was where Parlomith had gone after she had left Queen's Town in relative disgrace, and a year later, she had challenged and beaten the village chief for leadership of the village. That was the old chief's thanks for allowing Parlomith to live there.

I hadn't cared for the old chief that much, either. This was one of the few villages where the companions
were treated as second class Amazons. For instance, we served the warriors their meals, but we did not sit and eat with them, but instead waited on them until they were done before we could sit and enjoy our own meal. Warriors in Green Arrow also did not treat any of the companions as friends. If Queen's Town had been the same way, I never would have stayed with the Amazons. I would have repeatedly attempted to escape until I succeeded or they beat me to death during the resulting punishments.

We hadn't planned on staying overnight in Green Arrow, but N
ori's horse came up lame as we approached the village from the south. She had switched to my horse, leading hers, but we'd had to slow down and thus arrived in Green Arrow too late in the afternoon to head onto the next village.

There was one stroke of luck. Parlomith was not there. She and her companion had disappeared for a few days of hunting. I thought it was a deliberate slight against Malora, but I kept my opinion to myself. She could deal with her own politics.
I had remained angry with her, and she could fend for herself.

Our greeting was lackluster, and I was treated with special suspicion. I was sure a village run by Parlomith would have an especially negative view of me, and I can only imagine what guesses they made for why I'd been dyed purple. I imagine my color, which was only finally beginning to fade, gave fuel to the rumors as to what a worthless companion I was.

I ignored all of that but simply settled the horses, leaving Nori to deal with her horse, and then Beria and I set up the tents.

I wasn't in the mood to be treated like a servant, and I wasn't going to let Beria be treated that way, either. I told that to Malora and asked her what she was going to do about it.

"We're going to have meals the way we always do," Malora said. "We have largely resolved the companion issue, but I am not giving this village more companions if they are going to treat them poorly. It's time to show them proper treatment."

"As long as Parlomith is village chief, this village is going to be a poor place for companions. I will not let anyone from Gallen's Cove
come here, Malora."

"I know," she said. "Did you want a swim?"

"No. They've seen enough purple skin."

"Maybe I like your skin purple."

"You don't really think I'm ready to be teased about it, do you?"

"No, I suppose not." But she pulled me into her arms, and I let her kiss me, but I didn't have much passion to give her. She studied my face.

"I hate this village. I'm afraid Parlomith will appear at any moment."

"I know."

"We're leaving in the morning, early, regardless of the status of Nori's horse. She can wait or ride mine. I'd rather not stay at all."

"All right, Maya," Malora agreed.

We got looks at dinner, but no one dared to challenge the queen. We warned Beria beforehand, and she kept her head down and tended to her warrior and her own business. I halfheartedly joked with Malora and Nori, but conversation with the other warriors was strained.

We went to bed early.

I rose early the following morning, seeing to our needs. I assembled a trail breakfast and took care of most of our horses. Nori could make a decision about hers at the last minute. Then I nudged everyone awake saying, "Please, can we get out of here before Parlomith returns."

"Calm down," Nori said. "She's not going to start anything."

"I don't care. I want to get out of here. Please, can we go?"

And so we were on our way, much earlier than we were most days, people eating breakfast in the saddle.
Nori rode my horse; we would make arrangements for her horse, possibly asking Ralla to pick it up the next time she was down this way.

We were perhaps thirty minutes out of Green Arrow when two riders came storming up our back trail.
When they saw us, they set up a cry. "Queen Malora! Queen Malora! You're needed in Green Arrow."

"No," I moaned.

The riders came to a stop, their horses breathing hard.

"There's been a demon incursion," one of the Amazons said. I didn't remember her name.

"How many?" Malora asked.

"At least ten," the woman replied. "Word is going up and down the forest. I don't know anything else. My warrior told us to bring you back to Green Arrow."

"Maya," Malora ordered. "Climb down. Ride double with Beria. Bring the pack horses back with you."

"But-"

"Don't argue with me!"

I slipped from her horse and hurried to Beria's
horse, which had been towed behind Omie's horse. Beria was just slipping from Omie's horse as I got there. We collected the string of packhorses. By the time Beria and I were mounted and ready to head south again, Malora, Nori and Omie were gone.

We followed
along with the other two companions, riding at a slower pace, returning to my least favorite village of all the villages.

* * * *

I knew there would be more bad news. When we arrived at the Green Arrow stables, Malora's, Omie's and my horses were not there. My worst suspicions were confirmed when Landa, one of the companions, handed me a note. It was from Malora.

"Maya, I know you're not going to like this, but you and Beria are to remain here. We'll be back in a few days. If we're gone more
than three days, you may return home. Under no circumstances are you to travel east. I love you. Malora."

I stared at the note before passing it to my sister.

"Saddle the horses up again," I told her. "We're following them."

"Queen Malora said-"
Beria began to say.

"I don't care what she said. I am following them. You can come with me or stay here."

I didn't notice, but we were gathering a small audience. There were six women watching us carefully, all companions. Landa stepped forward.

"Queen Malora told us you may try to follow her," Landa said. "We're ordered to hog tie you and throw you in
to a tent if you try it."

I stared at them, and I saw
a couple were holding coils of rope.

"She told us to remind you that she's given very direct orders, and she's not fooling around."

I began swearing a blue streak that went on for quite some time. When I finally wound down, Landa asked me, "Are you going to obey your orders?"

"Yes," I spat.

"She told us one more thing."

"Oh?"

"She said if you promised to obey but then didn't, we were to apply whatever punishment we felt was appropriate after we catch you."

"I think she's serious," Beria said.

I stormed off, furious. How dare she leave me here? I finally found the river and sat down next to it, staring at it, fuming.

Just what I needed:
to be left in the worst village of all of them. Just what I needed.

Beria found me some time later. She sat down next to me. "I guess this has been a crappy trip."

I turned to her. "I am tired of being treated like this."

"It's not so bad," she replied. "We can take it easy for a few days."

"Our warriors are out there-" and I pointed east, "facing who knows how many demons, and we're stuck here. Anything could happen. How dare she treat me like a child?" I screamed the last sentence.

"You're doing a good job of acting like one."

I turned to face her. "What is that supposed to mean?"

"I love you, Maya. You know I do. But you've been sulking this entire trip."

"Hello. Dyed purple for a prank while all of you stood by and laughed."

"And you know I think that was a shitty thing to do, but who on this trip deserves your anger for it?"

"Malora could have stopped it."

"And you could choose to laugh about it," Beria countered.

"Absolutely no one has suggested anyone else would have. Why am I supposed to be better able to take it than anyone else would?"

She stared at me. "Because you're you, Maya. You take everyone else's pain. You've been doing it for as long as I've known you.
I was just a baby when Grandpa died, but I was old enough to know I missed him, and you were the one who held me when I cried. Not Mom. Not Grandma. You. When I hooked you fishing, I know it hurt, and I felt horrible, but that night you pulled me into your arms and told me about the awesome scar you could show everyone. When Nema died, and we needed a teacher, the council picked you because they knew you were best dealing with all the kids, even though you were so young. And you've just kept doing it, over and over. You take Malora's pain and Nori's. Omie told me that you used to take hers, too, and Ralla's. And you still do sometimes. Omie comes away from a few minutes hug with you calmer than if she holds me for an hour. It's what you do, Maya. You take our pain!"

I stared at my little sister.

"You and Malora deserve each other," she said. "You are two peas in a pod. Except instead of taking pain, she protects people. Right now, you're not worked up because she treated you like a child. You're worked up because you know she's in pain without you, and you can't stand it."

"Maybe I'm tired of it," I said. "Maybe I'm tired of being that person."

"No, you're not," she said. "What you're tired of is thinking people take you for granted. No one takes you for granted, Maya. You don't hear what people say behind your back, and I think most of them forget I'm there, listening, but no one takes you for granted."

"I'm tired, Beria."

"You're tired of being purple, I bet," she said. "I don't blame you. But it's kind of cool, too."

"Oh yeah, I'm sure."

"Come on, you're almost invisible in the dark, and I bet Malora's tried to lick it off."

"Shut up," I told her. "She has not."

"She has too. I heard Omie and Nori teasing her about it. She thinks it's kind of sexy."

"Now you're lying."

"I swear, that's what she said, then she realized I was there and she shut up. She knows we talk."

"I haven't been exactly amiable with her, Beria. There has been no licking."

"Maybe that's why you're so crabby." She bumped her shoulder into mine, and then we sat watching the water for a while.

"Do you suppose we have to attend training this afternoon?"

"Hell, no," I replied. "We're on vacation."

* * * *

It took me a half-day to get bored. The village stores included no fishing hooks. I could make the rest, but I didn't know what to do for hooks. I wondered if I could fashion some out of other available materials, but nothing I tried seemed to work.

By the end of the second day, boredom had reached new heights, and I was nearly frantic with worry.

On the third day, the situation grew worse. Parlomith returned.

Beria and I didn't realize it at the time. We were down by the river. I had finally fashioned hooks from thorns off a hawthorn bush. I had fashioned them into flies, and we were trying them out. Beria managed to catch a trout, and we made a nice little fire and shared it for lunch. Over the course of the afternoon, we caught three more fish.

Finally Beria said, "I volunteered to help with dinner duty. We should get going."

We had been fishing upstream from the village, so we collected everything and took the fifteen-minute walk back. We both headed to the kitchen, where we found the companions appeared subdued, but had little to say.

"We brought fish," Beria said cheerfully. "We can share them for dinner."