Authors: Gene Wolfe
"It would save a great deal of weary riding," Hegesistratus conceded, "and it is certainly true that we are beginning to run short of food; but it would also greatly increase our likelihood of becoming lost, and we might even wander out of Apsinthia and into the country of the Paetians to the north. We can steer by the sun and the stars whenever the god grants us clear weather, but we are not apt to see much of that for some time to come."
The black man pointed to the sky to show that he knew where the sun was, though its face was veiled.
Hegesistratus said, "Until now, we have tried to stay near the coast so we can meet the
Europa
at the queen's great temple at the mouth of the Hebrus. Yet we must locate Oeobazus first; and should we reach the Hebrus, we can follow it to the temple. So let us vote upon this matter. Those who wish to do as Seven Lions has suggested, raise your hands."
The black man's hand shot up, and I raised mine as well, because I feel that he is my friend. Io held up hers, too, I think out of loyalty to me; and thus it was decided.
When we rode on, I looked for hoof marks where I had seen the rider, for near them I hoped to discover the footprints of the animal that had bounded beside his horse as well, and from them to decide whether it had been a dog, as Hegesistratus had said, or a lion, as I had thought it. It is not safe to try to distinguish between these by size alone, for the great hounds of Molossis leave imprints as big as a small lion's; but the claws can be seen in front of the toes in the track of a dog, while in the pug mark of a lion they are not to be found. The hoofprints of the rider's steed were equally invisible, though I discovered the pug marks of a lion.
Here the shoreline is low, almost flat, and often muddy, so that we did not always ride within sight of the sea; when we did there were no islands in view, though I cannot say what a summer day might have shown. We ate the first meal without dismounting; but we halted here where there is good water, hobbled the horses, and built a fire to cook the second. We had finished our bread and olives and were deciding whether to set up our tent when Io saw the riders.
She shouted and pointed. It was dark enough by then that they could not be seen at once if one had been looking into the fire; but after a moment I made them out against the trees that grow beside the stream—nine men on horseback armed with lances. Hegesistratus rose and greeted them in the Thracian tongue while I made sure my sword was free in the scabbard and the black man groped for his javelins. I should write here that Hegesistratus and I, as well as the black man, each have a pair of well-made javelins; Io says Hegesistratus bought them for us in Pactye, a city to the east and south. Hegesistratus has one of the light, long-hafted war axes of the Medes also, inlaid and footed with gold. The black man has a knife with two edges; it, too, appears to me of their making, though its fittings are only bronze like those of my sword.
When Hegesistratus spoke again, he raised his cup, so that I knew he was offering to share our wine. One of the Thracians replied. I could not understand him, but his tone told me that he had refused. I whispered to Io that she could be of no help to us and instructed her to go to the sea. She nodded as if she intended to obey and left the circle of firelight, although I do not think she went far.
Soon the Thracian horsemen trotted over to us. The one who had spoken to Hegesistratus spoke again. Hegesistratus hung the wineskin on his lance, and he lifted it until the skin slid into his hands. He drank the unmixed wine and passed the skin to the man beside him. Hegesistratus gestured toward our small pile of possessions, I think to show that we had no more wine.
The Thracian pointed toward the black man with his lance and spoke again.
"You must put down your weapons," Hegesistratus told him, and he did, sticking their heads into the soft earth. I thought then how simple it would be to kill the Thracian with a single cast, for my own javelins were not far from my hand. With their leader dead, the rest might ride away, or thus it seemed to me. Yet I did not act.
He rode to where Elata watched us, and indicated by a sign that he wished her to stand nearer to the fire where he could see her better. When she only shook her head and trembled, he managed his big horse very skillfully, so that its broad chest crowded her closer and closer to it.
At last her foot touched one of the burning sticks, making its end move in the flames and sending up a cloud of red sparks. She screamed, Hegesistratus shouted at him, and another Thracian urged his mount forward and thrust at Hegesistratus. The black man's javelin struck him below the eye. The point seemed to sprout behind his ear like a horn. I should have cast my own then; but I stabbed the leader—up and beneath the ribs—instead, and severed his head as he fell. This I wondered to see, for I had not known my blade was so good.
At this the other Thracians galloped off and wheeled with leveled lances. I ran for my horse, hoping there would be time to take off the hobble before their charge. I found him freed already, and bridled; Io held his reins. As I sprang onto his back, the thunder of the charge began.
It was not the Thracian lancers who charged. All in an instant, as a storm roars out of the night, long-haired riders boiled around us, one galloping through our fire and scattering its coals, so that she seemed to leave a trail of flame, as a torch does when it is thrown.
I rode after them and had a singing arrow sting my ear for my pains; nor did I shed any other blood, for all the Thracians who were not dead had run by the time I reached the point where they had received the charge. A woman (whom I believed a man) writhed beside a corpse, blood bubbling from her mouth as she gasped for breath. (Even before I dismounted, I could hear the sucking of the wound in her chest—a horrible sound.) I tore her tunic to bandage her and bound the wad of wool with strips of rag. It was while I did this that I found she was a woman, for my fingers brushed her breast. Her friends returned before the last knot was tight, but when they saw that I was trying to help her, they did not interfere.
We tied her cloak to the shafts of two lances and carried her to the fire. Hegesistratus has sewed her wound with sinew wet with wine. I know that he does not think she will live, nor do I. Elata says that she will surely live, however.
Elata has smeared my ear with warm pitch to stanch the blood; and now Io weeps for me, which I do not like. I have told her it is not blood from a nick that kills a man but the will of the gods. The black man laughs at us both and stands very straight with his chest thrown out because these women have never seen such a man as he.
Now everyone is asleep, save for Hegesistratus and one of the women, with whom he speaks. The horses stamp and nicker, frightened by the smell of so much blood. Surely the Thracians will return and bring with them others—but not before dawn, I think.
TEN
The Amazons
THE WARRIOR WOMEN BURN THEIR, dead. This and a great many other things I have learned about them from Hegesistratus, who speaks their tongue. He says it is not the same as Thracian. I asked how many he speaks—for it seems to me that I have only this one in which I am writing and the one I speak to Io and the others, though she says I have at least one more. He answered that he speaks all tongues, and perhaps it is so; Io calls him a mantis and does not wish to tell me more about him. The warrior women think the black man uncanny; and I know that Io thinks the same of the lovely Elata; yet I think that Hegesistratus is stranger even than the warrior women.
He names them breastless ones [In Greek
amazos,
"without a breast."—GW], and so do Io and Elata, so I will call them that as well. Io says that we were told of them last summer by a wicked woman called Drakaina, though I cannot remember it.
If Pharetra dies, the others will halt and build a pyre for her. We need not halt, too, unless we choose, Hegesistratus says; but it seems to me that it would be foolish to leave them. We are sure to encounter more Thracians, and it would be better to fight them together if we must fight. I have spoken about this with the black man, and he agrees. Hegesistratus and Elata will certainly not go without us.
The other Amazons have made a litter for Pharetra and slung it between two of the captured horses. This morning when I rode beside her, she smiled and spoke to me. When I shook my head to tell her I did not understand, she showed me by signs that she wanted me to help her out of her litter; but I would not. Her hair is nearly the color of my own, though I think more touched with red. Her wound has made her face white and thin, so that it seems that the high bones beneath push through her cheeks, as stones rise in a plowed field after rain.
All these Amazons are tall and strong. They have only the left breast, and a flat white scar where the right breast should be; their tunics have a single strap, worn so that it covers the scar. I asked Pharetra about this. She made many signs until I said, "You need only one to nurse a single child?" She nodded to that, so she must know at least a few words in the language of the Hellenes.
I asked her name. She spoke it for me, but I cannot say it as she does. Pharetra, "bowcase," is as like it as any word I know, though she laughed at me when I called her that. Now we are going to move on.
We have ridden through the Thracian town and camped here, in this muddy field beside the river. Everyone is angry about it—I, too. We met the Thracians after the first meal; Io says most of them look like those we killed last night. I have read all I wrote about that but learned only a little. I must write less about what has taken place and more about the things I see.
The highest Thracians have tattooed cheeks and gold rings, and so much gold on their bridles that their mounts are burdened by it. There were at least a hundred. We could not have fought them with three men and a few women, but Hegesistratus and the queen spoke to them and made peace. He says he is not certain it would have been possible if the Thracians had not wanted to show the women to their king. He says also that some know the speech we use, though they feign otherwise; we must be careful of what we say. He asked permission for us to gather wood for a fire, but they say there is none here (a lie) and some will be brought us. Thus I must write quickly, while the light lasts.
It is young rye we trample here, and plainly not all these Thracians are horsemen, for we have seen many peasants on foot. The horsemen are the landowners, perhaps, and their attendants. Certainly many are rich.
The lance seems their chief weapon. Their lances are half again as tall as a man and no thicker than a spear; I would find them awkward, but they handle them very well. The swords I have seen have only one edge, like Falcata, and long tapering points. Some have bows, but theirs do not look as good to me as the bows of the Amazons. The Thracians wear cuirasses of linked rings or quilted linen, however, and some have helmets, while the Amazons wear no armor at all.
The Amazons' bows are made of layers of horn and wood bound with leather. Each keeps a lump of black beeswax in her bowcase with which she rubs her bow to keep it dry; they wax the bowcase also, and all have beautifully made bowcases of boiled leather. Pharetra let me look at hers. There was a compartment for the bow, a hollow bone to hold strings, and a quiver for her arrows. A griffin on the front of her bowcase has slain a man—not drawn or painted, as I would have thought such a picture would be, but molded into the leather. I would guess that the images were cut into wood, and the boiled leather hammered into the depressions while it was still hot and soft. Each arrow is as long as my forearm from the end of the longest finger to the elbow—a cubit and two fingers. The tips are iron and seem too slender to me.
Her sword looks very odd. It is crooked like mine, but sharp along the outer edge. If someone were to take a leaf-shaped sword and cut away half the metal down the blade, what remained would be something like the swords of the Amazons. I can see, however, that such long, light blades might be useful on horseback.
A peasant has brought firewood in a cart. With a fire on which to cook the second meal, all of us feel better, I think. Hegesistratus paid for the wood—two obols, which seems very dear to me. He told Elata that the peasant promised to bring wine and a young goat, so we may have meat later. Io says it has been a long time now since we have had a good meal. Some meat will be good for Pharetra, too.
Hegesistratus has told me that the Thracian town is Cobrys, and the king's name is Kotys. Some of the people we passed in Cobrys looked like Hellenes to me, though no doubt most of them were Thracians. A dozen horsemen guard us, sometimes gathering in twos and threes to talk until their commander scatters them again. I will eat with the others and pretend to sleep; later I will see how watchful these Thracians are.
Not wishing to reveal what I planned, but anxious to learn how dangerous it might be, I asked Hegesistratus to tell me what Fate has in store for me. He smiled and agreed that was perhaps as good a means of passing the evening as we would find. Io was eager then to have her future foretold as well, and he promised he would do that also, provided that she would assist him with mine.
When she agreed readily, he got a small mirror from his bag and polished it with salt, poured out a libation to the Goddess of Love (mirrors are under her care, as he explained), and had Io take a brand from the fire. Sitting with his back to the fire, he watched the stars in his mirror for a time, or so it appeared to me. It is not clear tonight, but not wholly clouded either; wisps of cloud come and go, sometimes passing across the face of the moon, and often across the face of her who holds it.
When he was satisfied that everything was correct, he taught Io a simple prayer and had her walk in circles around him as she recited it, holding high the brand and matching her steps to the words. Elata crooned a different invocation, a sighing, nearly inaudible sound that seemed to fill the night, like the soughing of the wind. Soon four of the Amazons were clapping to keep the time, while a fifth strung her bow and plucked the bowstring, sliding one finger up and down. The black man tapped a stick of firewood with two others.