- ₪ ₪₪ 64th sun after the plague. 23rd sun after Penthesilea’s arrival. ₪₪ ₪ - Penthesilea is 43, Protego 46, Serkon 47 Lyta is 21, Phyllis 14, Faidra 27, Cass 18, Phila 17, Deia 5, Eos 4 and Thersandros 26 Hippolyta tried to hide her yawn behind a pensive hand gesture. What had started as a mere courtesy call had dragged on for the entire midmorning. Goddess strike me if I ever attend Alexander’s court again! What you do for family… The princess sighed. Of course her mother, heavy with child, couldn’t have come herself. But they needed a healer for the upcoming birth. So somebody had better get on Alexander's good side before asking to borrow his royal physician. Supporting her head, Hippolyta shifted to a more comfortable position. If only he would send the suppliants away already. The head of a small village and his son still refused to give up their land. Alexander had even been forced to send warriors to fetch them for further negotiations. However – had they not been promised new property? Fresh, fertile property within the Arythion and Dekanos territories. Property that would not be pestered by thieves and the like once the summer arrived. Summer meant trading season. This time, the expectation of traders would surely attract the plundering rabble in the hills. All the small mountain villages close to the road needed to be burned down. Otherwise they would serve as a comfortable hide-out or easy prey. Lyta hoped the two men would understand that soon. Trading season… A word so new for her, barely a sun old. Even so, it already held so much promise. It would bring the whiff of an entire world waiting behind the mountains and forest. And it would bring merchants rivaling their goods in attractiveness. “What else do you want so you will finally give up?,” Alexander inquired. “Nothing, my lord. No thing in this world or the next could ever replace our trusted neighbors. Be it in life or in death, we won't leave the land where our ancestors found refuge.” Ouch. No ‘my king’? The old leader still refused to use the proper title for the high king. “Your trusted neighbors have already agreed to much more modest terms. It seems they did not treasure your coexistence as much as you.” The suppliant lowered his head. “That will be on them to explain to their forefathers. I, for one, will not deviate from my course.” And here we go again… From the corner of her eye, Lyta spotted a slender figure entering the room and cutting a way toward her. “Thank Goddess you’re here,” she whispered when Cass touched her shoulder. “Alexander’s subjects are so stubborn, I could use some distraction.” “You might get more distraction than you prefer. The queen is in labor.” Lyta spun around. “What? Mother said there would still be time!” “My princess, I assume she didn’t expect it to happen so soon either…” Hippolyta sank back. “Ugh… It seems there’s not much of a choice, then” With a forceful start, she stood up and stepped in front of the two kneeling men. “I, Princess Hippolyta of Santrake and Dekanos, demand an audience with the king now. There is an urgent matter to be discussed.” They had told her that Lyta had rushed the borrowed horse all the way back from Arythion, with the healer in tow. Penthesilea knew she was grateful. Hippolyta’s haste had probably saved her life. But her heart stayed astoundingly still. She stared at the ceiling. Maybe she would find the answers there, somewhere above the roof in the vastness of the midday sky. Even now, days after the birth, the thoughts fled her. If only she had read the signs right to begin with. Penthesilea could have spared herself from risking her life in childbed. The past moons had been so strenuous, so full of suffering. Then, the new provider had born a boy. She should have taken heed of that warning. But the thought had been too appealing. Having another daughter? Sure, it would be quite nice now that it was happening. Who would refuse the Goddess’ blessing, after all? She snorted angrily. The healer had been sure she would live and she did feel better now. Yet all the suffering, all the hopes - they had been in vain. Hearing Protego’s regular breath, she knew that he was sleeping at last. And that his son was, too. A son. Had her losses during the quarrel with Zeuxippe not been atonement enough? Why did the Goddess keep demanding more? Even now, she still hoped to wake up. The door creaked. A brown-haired head appeared. “You’re awake.” Lyta entered. She inspected her mother closely. “How do you feel?” “I’ve felt worse.” Before you showed up. She hadn't seen her heiress all too often during the last few days. Hippolyta was always underway to organize this or settle that. Lyta sighed with relief. “Phyllis will be happy to hear that. Faidra and Cass, too.” The princess cleared her throat. “Mother… Dad and Alexander are waiting outside. They insist on seeing you personally. Not even Faidra’s icy stares could make them leave. They keep claiming that they intend to offer congratulations, but– Goddess forbid! That can't be the only reason.” “Tell them I’m sleeping.” “Faidra practically yelled it at them already. Cass tried her best at evoking compassion. Dad would have listened to me but Alexander won’t leave for anything in the world.” “Of course he won’t…” Penny felt her chest tighten. “Give me a moment.” She sat up. Lyta hurried at her side. “Should I…?” Her stretched out arms followed her mother’s movements. “I don't need help. I'd rather you make sure that they don't see Protego leaving.” She was almost sorry to nudge him awake after he had finally put his son to sleep. He yawned heartily, then watched Hippolyta quit the room. “How late is it?,” he mumbled. “Take him,” Penthesilea threw a glance at the sleeping newborn, “and go. I will receive visitors.” “But- but you haven’t recovered yet…!” Protego covered his mouth. “I- I’m sorry, my queen. That was too rash.” The Amazon sighed. “Apparently, they won’t bow before strength. So maybe they will back down before weakness.” She watched Protego lifting the delicate boy up. When the door swung shut behind them, the silence crushed her. How could she believe to be able to face two kings right now? Serkon squatted down at the edge of the bed and took Penthesilea's hand into his. “How are you feeling?” “Awful.” “You certainly look like it.” “That’s hardly surprising, is it not? I’ve escaped death by a hair's breadth.” She felt Serkon’s grip tighten a little. “Lyta told me that day. I’m glad that your goddess did not call you to her side yet.” He lowered his gaze. “My apologies that I didn’t believe you how dangerous it could be.” “Serkon- I don’t know if I even believed it myself. Even when we know full well what could happen, do we ever expect it to happen to ourselves?” Alexander stepped up. “Well, all of us are thankful that you live and that you have born a healthy boy. By the way, where is he?” “Outside. I figured you would want to see me, not him.” “Ah, indeed, how thoughtful. And does he have a name yet?” “No, not yet.” “But do you plan on giving him one?” “What kind of question is that? Of course he will have a name if he lives.” “So, will he live?” “Will he- is that not a question for the Goddess to answer?” The kings exchanged a quick glance. “What we mean is, will you sacrifice him?” “Oh,” Penthesilea whispered hollowly. “So that is why you are here. To keep me from murdering my own child viciously.” Alexander shook his head quickly. “No, that is not what I said. We merely wanted to inquire if-” “But is it not what you meant, Alexander? Serkon?” “Haven't you come here to save me, graciously, from going through with murder?” Serkon bit his lip, but he withstood her gaze. “You have watched dozens of slaves die in Orcheon. Why do you only start acting when it’s my turn? And- why do you come now of all times?” Alexander crossed his arms. “Shouldn’t you of all know better than jumping to conclusions so fast, Penthesilea? My father has always loathed the sacrifices you Amazons made, but he allowed you to do as you liked. The situation is different now. May you believe it or not, this is the first time an Amazon prince was born. We can’t allow royal blood to be spilled – even if only half of it is noble.” Penthesilea hissed. “Oh, to understand the hypocrisy of men! So you can’t allow royal blood to be spilled but your tribe members abandon their newborn daughters by the wayside? You won’t let me raise a boy in his birth family to give him a good life until we part?” Serkon threw his hands in the air. “What good life are you talking about? He will be a slave until his death!” “And that is so bad that you brought it upon not one, but two children of yours born by servants? You refused to recognize them as yours. You let them be raised as slaves in the same house as their royal siblings. You came to me, pleading for reassurance that it was the right thing to do. And despite all the secrecy - be sure, your wife noticed!” “I wonder, would you have done the same to your beloved warrior princess, Lyta, had she not been a queen’s daughter?” “Stop it!,” Serkon bellowed. Alexander stepped closer, an edge in his otherwise calm voice. “We are not talking about the laws of Dekanos now.” “Aren’t we really? You are the ones who believe that a child’s status is inherited by the father if he acknowledges them. And Protego, who likes his newborn son very much, is a slave.” Alexander closed his eyes. “But we don’t. Believe. A child. Should be killed.” “He won’t be a child any more by then. Listen, it is not your worry to appease our goddess, nor to deal with her wrath. So please, just let us decide what I will do with my child in my tribe.” “Oh, don’t worry. It will be your decision.” Alexander paused. “I just expect that it will turn out to my liking. You swore me loyalty after all.” Penthesilea groaned. “Loyalty, yes. We are training your youths for battle. My daughter and warriors have joined the fight against the raiders.” “I never speak out of line in the council or outside of it after you have declared a decision. But this, this is not a question of loyalty. It is faith, and it was you who assured the tribes independancy in that matter.” Alexander pursed his lips. “Fine. If you need more time to make up your mind, so be it. Take your time. Take everything into consideration. You know, neighborly relations. Friendly relations. Remember who assures your livelihood by paying for the warriors' training. Finally, when you have reassessed, seek me out.” Of course he would stay unreasonable. Tired, she rubbed her eyes. “All I want is the best for my children. For all of them. They deserve a chance to find themselves among the Goddess’ companions when this life is over.” “That requires sacrifices of all kinds, and should it be my own life. I just hope you can confidently say the same about yourselves.” Alexander’s face hardened. “May you make a quick recovery, queen. The council is awaiting you impatiently.” They set out to leave. Only the king of Dekanos turned again for one short moment. “Believe it or not, we only want the best for you as well.” Then, he followed the Arythion outside. As soon as the door had closed, Penthesilea broke down. She wrapped her arms around her body. A raging pain, a restlessness consumed her. Her life was going up in flames right in front of her eyes. And she could do nothing to prevent it. She had known they would come sooner or later. That they would try to talk the sacrifice out of her. That there was nothing she could bring up to make them understand. If only Alexander had insisted on her bowing to his will this time. It would have been a dreadful ending. But at least it would have been an ending. This chapter has extra screenshots in the gallery.
4 Comments
|
Details
Archive
May 2023
|