Amazon Sisters

Halcya: the ‘No-Hopers’ colony was not an honorable or much requested assignment for Hesperian soldiers. It is renowned for the lack of pride of the Amazons who are stationed there and for the incidences of poor discipline, unfitness for duty, and downright incompetence. It is a colony remembered for being the place where the Amazons were stopped in the expansion of their empire by the Quadanis, a place of dishonor to many.

Soon after Chelsea was assigned to the post at Halcyon, (the capitol city of the colony) reports started coming in of a recent upsurge of isolated raiding incidents near the Quadani border. This was not completely unusual; after all, the truce with Quadan was an uneasy one and small border skirmishes were common. But these recent raids were more deliberate incursions and were better organized and planned.

Events were already in the works, however, that would change things dramatically. The raids continued to increase in frequency and intensity until full scale conflict had broken out. By this time, it had been confirmed that Quadani regulars were behind the raids all along, and had just been testing the strength of the Hesperian lines and their willingness to fight. By this time, Chelsea was nearly 20 years old. She was to see four major battles before she was 21 years of age.

The first one took place near a small village called Crickett’s Rock. The Amazons were victorious but it was more of a personal triumph for Chelsea. She received a promotion and the satisfaction of knowing she fought extremely well. Many of her sister’s lives were saved by her actions.

She quickly learned that where lives are at stake, one’s differences became most minor and the only thing that really mattered in her squad leader’s opinion was her performance in battle. In that she excelled. Her mother had been a weapons master, and had her own battle school before she died. She had trained Chelsea from an early age in the use of the Hesperian gladius, the war spear, archery, and unarmed combat arts. Her expert training was not to be wasted and Chelsea's abilities were further honed by the actual battle experience, so that her squad leader came to have a grudging admiration for her abilities.

Her next battle experience was also favorable. The Amazons won the battle and Chelsea had many enemy casualties to her credit. However, her third engagement with the Quadanis was not nearly so successful for Amazon forces. They lost the battle as well as many of their sisters. The carnage was terrible; a thing of such horror to behold that the effects are with Chelsea still.

After that battle they were less active for a while waiting until reinforcements arrive to bolster their ranks. Now it is the night before they are to engage the enemy again. They know the enemy forces outnumber their own, and to make matters worse, they are entrenched within a small town called Pickett’s Row. The mission is to drive them out and liberate the townsfolk.

Chelsea stood and watched the new reinforcements as they arrived, heading to the command tent to get their assignments. She looked at their fresh faces, so pretty and full of life and she wondered how many would be dead by this time the next day. It was a terrible thought, she knew. But she was just tired of the fighting, tired of the carnage and bloodshed, tired of seeing women she knew get cut up or killed, or run through with a Quaddani spear.

She gave a weary sigh and was about to turn away to head for the bathing tent when one of the new girls caught her notice. Most of them looked scared; that was normal. Any Amazon soldier had heard of this place. They all no doubt knew what had been happening here. The word had spread, even back in Chersonopolis, the Hesperian capitol. Chelsea would have thought anyone who didn't look scared was a damn fool.

But there was something about this one. She looked like she was just a little lost or something. Resigned to her fate maybe. She was exactly the kind who would probably fall in battle, never having had a chance to learn how to survive. 'It isn't fair!' she thought again as she turned to head for the baths.

For the next hour, she soaked and tried to relax. But knowing what was coming made it almost impossible. There was always a certain nervous energy before a big battle, and tonight was no exception. A warrior always sought the comforts of life at such a time: a good hot bath, good food, comfort in the arms of a willing companion. Of course, that wasn't likely to happen for her, she reflected bitterly. Nobody was interested in bedding a half-sized half-breed. Not for the first time, she damned the short male islander slave whom her mother had chosen to sire her.

She couldn't get her mind off the new women though, especially the one who'd caught her eye. 'She stared right at me', she mused. 'Probably wondering why I look so different.' It didn't matter anyway. When Chelsea closed her almond shaped eyes, she could see the girl's face, and if she kept them closed a little longer, she could see the girl being cut down cruelly. She kept her eyes open. "Damn it! Why did it have to be that way?" she said to no one in particular.

What if it could be different? Why couldn't someone do something to keep these women alive, at least long enough to let them get some experience? Why couldn't she? The more she thought about it, the more determined she became. She'd do something about this! She'd at least pick one of them and keep her alive, by the Mother, no matter what it took!

She got out of the bath and dried off quickly, motivated by her plan. There were still many preparations to be made before she'd have to get ready to move out. She dressed in her short tunic, an off the shoulder Grecian style gown that came down to her mid-thigh. Her muscular thighs were displayed to good effect beneath the short hem. Her calves were bare but the laces of her sandals wrapped up to the top of her ankles.

Her cafe-au-lait skin tone marked her as different from the other Hesperian soldiers, another trait from her 'father'. Her appearance always drew stares, and this time was no exception as she strolled across the camp to her tent. But she ignored them all, intent on her new idea.

She arrived at her tent. It was a white canvas campaign tent large enough for two warriors and their gear, but she had had it all to herself since the last battle; her former tent-mate having met her fate struck full of Quaddani arrows.

Chelsea whipped open the tent flap and ducked inside. She'd taken two steps before she noticed she was not alone. She stopped in her tracks when she saw the new girl setting up her cot. She sucked in her breath in a gasp. It was the girl who'd caught her eye before!

Kristin Helvigssen

Carefully, very carefully, she pulls the chainmail hood off, but strands of her hair snag in the metallic links anyway, as they do every single time. "ouch" she murmurs quietly, and wonders what the other warriors think of her. A shake of her head to loosen her golden locks before she reaches back, and arches her body to unlace her leather armor.

She doesn't know what to think now. Just a few weeks ago she had felt almost invincible. Everything was laid out for her in the training camp - the exercises, the routines, and the trainers so self assured that their self-assurance had passed to her, as intended. She was slimmer than most, her willowy form not made to lift heavy axes, or two handed swords. Still she was filled with a confidence that made her think she could do anything. She remembers Brigit, Brigit of the battles who guided all of them, and her especially, Brigit, the woman who taught her the short spear, and the small bow, Brigit the expert in laying ambushes. She was so brave and graceful, and knew so much. How many nights did she spend falling asleep thinking of Brigit, and not just about her skills

Then the journey to the battle front, where they were to be tested. She had been excited, the blood high in her, but as they got closer and closer, she had seen more and more signs that things were not going as well as she had been led to believe. The warriors she met on th way were all close lipped and quiet, none of them giving any signs of being part of a victorious army.

Then came the day of the ambush.

The Quadanis had discovered the routes and the routine when inexperienced warriors, such as herself, were brought to the battle front. One moment they were trudging forward, and in the next moment the enemies were coming at her from out of the trees. She still remembers the look in their eyes, their sword arms raised, could still hear the battle cries coming out of everyone's throat while her own throat had gone completely dry. She remembers the arrows whistling past her, striking down the two large Quadanis coming directly at her. Those were Brigit's arrows. "get back! up to the high ground!" Brigit had yelled at her while rushing forward to strike down yet another Quadani with her sword.

She had wanted to stay and fight. to rush forward like Brigit, and fight alongside her guardiant, the beautiful Brigit, but another woman had dragged her back "out of the way! up to the high ground!" Maybe they thought that her slight, willowy frame would be a hinderance in the middle of a pitched battle.

In the safety of the high ground, with the scattered remnants of the column, she had looked down to see that the Quadani had kept the valley. One lone warrior continued to fight. Brigit. Brigit fighting, her golden braids, kept against regulation, swaying below her helmet with each swing of her sword, Brigit fighting without hope of victory or rescue.

She had watched with the others, transfixed, until Brigit was overwhelmed, had watchd what happened to her. No, they didn't kill her, at least not while she was watching. She remembers how Brigit had screamed, how her scream had then became something else as the Quadanis took their pleasures. She could still hear their laughters, echoing in her mind.

"We are on the battle front now" someone had whispered to her then.

That was last week. She shakes off those images, and looks around at the other warriors now. They know she is new, that she is brought in after her column was scattered and defeated. How would they treat her?

Chelsea paused upon entering her tent, stopped in her tracks at the sight of the beautiful blond haired vision currently arching her back to reach the laces on her armor. She let her eyes take in the view, noting the slender but well toned figure, the well cared for armor, the nervous, almost lost look on the pretty face. She looked so young. Chelsea wondered if she'd ever looked that young when she arrived in this place. It struck her then that she was scarcely 21 years of age. By the Mother, she felt so much older!

She recovered from her momentary surprise at seeing the attractive warrior, and crossed to her own cot where she sat and tried not to stare at the new girl. She took up her gladius to sharpen it for the coming day's battle, but she couldn't' keep her eyes off the new arrival. She watched the girl struggle with the laces. A knot had formed in the leather thongs, and trying to work it out from behind her back was proving to be impossible for the young woman.

"Here, let me help you, sister." she said quietly. She stood up and moved behind the girl, gently lifting her blond tresses up out of the way. She was tempted to run her fingers through that silky hair when she felt it. It was like spun gold in her hands. She gathered it up into a thick luxurious tail and passed it over the girl's shoulder to hang down in front. Her fingers lightly touched the young woman's neck as she did so. Chelsea felt the warmth of her skin, and wondered what it would be like to let her fingertips caress lightly over the nape of that graceful neck.

She began to work at the knot after a momentary pause to get her feelings under control and return her mind to the business at hand. While she worked, she thought she'd find out more about this girl. "So you are part of that group that came in today, aren't you? We've been expecting reinforcements. I wish it were for some other reason that you were here though."

"The story going around is that your group already got a taste of fighting the Quadani. Is it true? They aren't like most enemies of Hesperia. They're damn big, and fierce to boot. A Quadani war spear is nothing to be taken lightly, that's for sure. Lately we've also heard from our scouts that they've been hiring mercenaries from the frozen northlands too."

The knot began to give way, and Chelsea soon had it worked loose. She let her fingers slip through the laces, loosening them until the armor could be removed. Even with the lacing thongs loosened, it was still a tight fit, not easily removed, so she helped to hold the cuirass while the nubile woman wriggled free of it. Chelsea held the hardened leather piece until the girl turned to take it from her hands. Their fingers touched briefly, and Chelsea felt a slight tingle. When her eyes met those of the young warrior, her breath caught in her throat and she forgot what she was going to ask. Her mind went blank, lost in that gaze for one long moment on the edge of time.

When at last she could recover her wits and break the eye contact, she managed to stammer out nervously, "W-what is your name? What...what do they call you?"