 CHAPTER TWO
It was high summer and the air was already hot and humid enough to make the captain wish she could remove her jacket but, somewhat unusually, the Queen's summons had been official, and one did not appear in front of her majesty in a state of comfortable informality after such a formal command. Cassandra ran a finger around the high collar of her dark green uniform jacket and urged her steed on toward the palace, her mind wandering around in circles as she tried to work out what could have prompted such a call from her old friend. She had known the Queen since they were children, innocent of life and what the Fates had in store for them. Cassandra's mother had been Queen Phoebe III's close advisor and confidante and lived in the palace with her family. When the Queen's sister, Rhiannon, had been widowed, she had come to live there and brought her daughter, Marpesia, with her. Though she was a couple of years younger than Cassandra, they had become like sisters almost immediately and had remained so until Queen Phoebe had become ill and chosen her niece as her successor, passing on her right of caste. The twenty-year old Marpesia's accession to the throne, on her aunt's death, had naturally meant that she and Cassandra could no longer be as close as they had been while children. Despite Marpesia's elevation, however, they had remained firm friends. The captain had proved her friendship and loyalty to the Queen many times, both on and off the field of battle. As a young lieutenant, she had fought in the Second Interplanetary War, covering herself in glory and scars alike. She had been captured and brutally tortured for information by the enemy, who had discovered (no doubt from spies) her close connection to the Queen. She had resisted their abominable methods, one of only a handful that had somehow found the strength to do so, and although by the time she was rescued she couldn't walk, or speak, or remember her name, something inside her had kept a firm grip on her secrets and refused to let them go. For that and her many other heroic deeds she was held in the highest esteem and respect by all who knew, or knew of her. Of course, her reputation as a formidable warrior also engendered fear and awe in some of the less experienced members of her new crew and she was looking forward to letting them see that she was an ordinary human being despite her almost mythological status. As the captain dismounted in the courtyard of the palace and handed her reins to a waiting servant, the great bell of the Temple of Artemis clanged the hour of nine. The roof of the temple was far lower than that of the palace but it could still be seen for miles around, thanks to the gold leaf that encrusted its dome making it shine like a beacon over the valley. The palace had been built out here in the countryside for security reasons. Away from the bustling capital city, it stood on the top of a treeless hill that made it impossible to approach without being seen. This precaution had been taken two centuries previously, by Queen Penthiselea V, following an assassination attempt that had come frighteningly close to success and left her nervous of city life. Since then an intentionally small but thriving community had developed around the palace, and the entire court and government now functioned from this spectacular location. As she was about to enter the palace, the captain was stopped in her tracks by a welcoming voice
calling her name and turned to see the elegant figure of the Queen's mother, Princess Rhiannon.
The captain was indeed a handsome woman and the smart dress uniform she wore now merely emphasised that fact. Her strong features and determined jaw line prevented her from being pretty, but she was generally regarded as strangely beautiful, though no one could quite put their finger on what made her so. Perhaps it was her wonderfully expressive, deep, green eyes that could light fires in the heart and extinguish them equally effectively; perhaps it was the lustrous golden hair that fell straight down to lie on the slope of her shoulders and was held back in a simple short tail when on duty; perhaps it was the firm, strong body, the steel muscles that lay beneath the skin that was naturally perfect but decorated by the scars that quarter of a century as a warrior had left; or perhaps it was her manner, the impression she gave of a fierce, wild animal kept under strict control by a powerful will. Cassandra sighed with relief as she stepped out of the heat and into the cool marble hall. Usually she would enter the building through a back door and, after making her presence known to a member of staff, make her own way to the Queen's private apartment; since this had been a formal summons, however, she was escorted to the small reception room adjoining the throne room where she waited to be announced. Queen Marpesia rose as the captain approached to give the formal military salute of an Amazon warrior, her right fist placed over her heart as she lowered her head, which was acknowledged by a graceful wave of the queen's left hand. Marpesia was an imposing figure. At over six feet tall she towered above most of her subjects literally as well as metaphorically; her piercingly blue eyes sparkled with intelligence on each side of a delicate, perfectly straight nose and when she smiled they seemed to ignite entirely. Her most startling feature, however, was her incredibly bright red hair that still shone like a raging fire despite her forty years and fell in soft waves over her shoulders, tumbling almost to her waist. She knew she was not considered beautiful, but this crowning glory made her striking and to make a point of that it was always left free, even in the heat of battle; she dreaded the day, which now felt distressingly near, when her hair would dull and begin to turn pale, as her mother's had. "Thank you for coming at such short notice, Cassandra" Marpesia said, stepping off the dais that
held her throne and gliding forward to take her friend's hand.
* * * * * * "Do you know much about the Golden Labyrys?" asked the queen as she motioned for
the captain to sit.
The captain gazed at her queen in puzzlement, but said nothing, merely waiting for Marpesia to
explain her
cryptic statement. The Queen sat back and crossed her long legs, her hands hanging over the
armrests of her
throne and continued "As I'm sure you know, the Labyrys was never intended to be used on the
battlefield,
it was made as a ceremonial weapon, though I've no doubt it could deliver a fatal blow if
necessary. Its main
purpose, however, was not merely to be an object of reverence, but a vessel."
The Queen fell silent, allowing Yael the time to let this concept sink in. Eventually the ever
practical captain
asked "how does it work?" eliciting a deep throaty laugh from the Queen.
The captain was outraged. The very idea of someone stealing the Golden Labyrys, the sacred symbol
of the Amazons, was sacrilegious, one might even say blasphemous. That was bad enough in itself
and Cassandra would have risked her life to retrieve the relic even if that had been the end of
the story, but now that she knew the true nature of the thing and the potential threat its
disappearance posed her resolve to return it to its rightful place was absolute and unshakeable.
"I don't understand how this could have happened, ma'am," she said when she had recovered her
equilibrium, "the security measures that always surround the Labyrys couldn't be tighter."
Marpesia brought her glass to her lips but, before taking a healthy swig of the sweet mead it
held, added "I am sending my emissary with you, Cass. We have no idea of the circumstances you
may find yourselves in and diplomacy may be required as well as weaponry"
When the Queen had explained fully the circumstances surrounding the disappearance, at least as
far as they were known, she stood and descended the steps, holding out both her hands to the
captain. "I know I can count on you, my friend," she said sincerely, "I feel better just knowing
you're involved". Marpesia's trust in Cassandra was absolute and it had not occurred to her to ask
the woman to swear an oath, but the captain was a loyal subject, an astute politician and, more
than that, a true warrior. This had been a formal summons and an official commission and she would
accept it in the appropriate way, hopefully reassuring her friend further in the process. Her left
hand came to rest on the hilt of her sword as she dropped to
one knee before her queen and, placing her right fist over her heart, looked up into those
blue eyes that had lost some of their sparkle.
* * * * * * The captain had left her shuttle in the small town of Kore, which sat just outside the exclusion forcefield that surrounded the palace, prohibiting entry to anyone travelling by any means other than foot or horseback. She returned her borrowed mount to its stables retrieving her deposit, and made for the vehicle park where her personal shuttlecraft, the Salome, sat amongst the battered hovertaxis and expensive landcruisers. As she looked around, trying to remember where she'd parked, her attention was drawn to a young couple having a heated argument on the other side of the compound. "I saw you looking at her, you bitch!" shouted one of the young women, jabbing her finger in her
partner's face.
The bickering continued, becoming louder and more threatening by the minute, until eventually the taller woman lashed out at the focus of her anger. Cassandra headed for the fracas as fast as she could, flinging herself between the two combatants and holding them apart with comparative ease. "Break it up, you two!" she ordered, "this isn't the way to resolve your differences." Before she could say another word, however, a stunning blow was delivered to the back of her head and she went down, landing heavily on her knees. Cassandra shook her head, trying to dispell the stars that spun around it. She staggered painfully
to her feet and found herself surrounded by five well built young women, including the 'arguing
couple'. "What's this all about, girls?" she enquired calmly, knowing she had to keep her cool
despite her pounding head, but the only answer she received was a snarl from one of the girls,
who was holding a long metal pipe in her right hand and thumping it menacingly into her left.
"Look," said Yael, "I don't want a fight."
The other three hesitated. Seeing two of their comrades incapacitated within thirty seconds had not filled them with confidence. The smaller of the decoy couple, though, was the boldest and, producing a pair of daggers from her boots, swirled them around, nimbly side-stepping the whip as it lashed out at her. With a cry of triumph she stepped on the leather strip and sliced it into harmlessness, her other hand flipping out to fling its dagger straight at Cassandra's heart. The captain dropped like a stone, the sharp dagger whizzing past her ear, but the girl flung the other weapon lower, forcing Yael to roll out of its way as it pierced the ground at her side. Flipping up, the captain regained her balance just in time to jump over a sword that sliced at her feet. She blocked the next blow, grabbing the dagger-weilding hand that lunged at her and twisting around, lifting her assailant off her feet and throwing her over her shoulder. When the woman's back smashed into the hard ground, Cassandra's boot heel stamped sharply down on her neck. Sensing someone coming at her from behind, Yael sprang gracefully into the air, rolled over, and landed behind her reamaining two attackers. The sun glinted on the sharp object clasped in the hand of one of the pair, but she did not have time to discern what that object was before the two women came at her. She bent down, her shoulder thudding into the guts of one of the women, and abruptly stood, hurling the girl down onto her head. The two or three seconds that this manoeuvre took, however, was enough for the remaining girl to hit her target and Cassandra felt a sudden intense pain in her shoulder as the stiletto was thrust into it, piercing through muscle and sinew and penetrating deep into the joint beneath. Cassandra reeled back, gasping for breath and clutching at the spike that protruded from her shoulder. Though it was not a conscious thought, instinct told her that it would have to stay there for now, that if she pulled it out she may well bleed to death before she could make it to a doctor. The breath hissed sharply through her teeth as, clutching her injured arm to her abdomen, she turned slightly aside and jabbed her elbow sharply into the face of her advancing foe. When the woman was down Cassandra thrust her sword into her chest and placed one foot against the spasming body to pull her weapon free. * * * * * * The deed was done. It had taken five of the woman's minions to achieve it, but they had accomplished her will and given her the advantage she needed. She was sorry that only two of them had survived, but she would make sure that the others' sacrifice would not be in vain. They had known what they were going into at the start, that they stood only a slim chance against a warrior of Yael's calibre, but their loyalty to her was such that they had gladly carried out her command and gone to their deaths for her great cause. It had only taken one lucky hit to plant the undetectable transmitter inside the captain's body. She smiled tiumphantly as the static cleared and the sounds of the captain moving around her shuttle were relayed to her. She might have known Yael would wait until she was aboard her beloved ship before seeking medical attention, she was so stubborn. Her smile of triumph transformed into a malicious leer as she heard the captain slump into her seat and moan in pain. The sound was as clear as a bell and she revelled in it, loving the thought of the captain's suffering. "She will suffer more yet" she said aloud, though there was no one to hear the glee in her smoky voice, "as will they all" and she chuckled evilly to herself as she settled down to listen.  © SapphicWarrior 2001 - All rights reserved |
he great palace of Marpesia II, mighty Queen of the Aretian Amazons, gleamed in the morning sun.
Its facade was clad in the smooth, yellowish marble found only on the southernmost slopes of the
almost inaccessible Caryatid mountains, whose highest peaks stood out above the fluffy clouds of
the beautiful planet Aretias, homeworld of the Amazons. The surface of the rare stone had been
polished to a shine that was almost blinding and Captain Cassandra Yael squinted as the reflected
light hit her green eyes. Her mount whinnied and shied away from a glint on the path they travelled
and Yael bent down to pat the horse's neck and whisper reassurances in her twitching ear.
In a flash training took over and blasted out the fog in Yael's brain. She caught the rod as it
descended and, with her other hand, landed a punch in the exposed guts of her assailant. The
woman crumpled with a groan, stunned by the force of the blow, and lay clutching her midriff,
rolling around on the floor. Cassandra spun around to face the others, her hand falling to the hilt
of her sword. Before she could draw it, however, her wrist was encircled by a stinging whip and
yanked away, pulling her forward. She used the energy to slam herself into her attacker, both
of them landing on the concrete ground and then she grabbed a handful of the woman's hair and jerked
up her head, smashing it down into the floor and knocking her out. In a couple of seconds she
was on her feet, sword in her right hand and whip in her left.