Amazon Sisters of Battle

[Annisthyrienne]

(Reserved for Shire_Wolfe)

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 Quaddanis, a place of dishonor to many.

Chelsea was a young Hesperian soldier, sent to Halcya as a trumped up punishment for the blame laid upon her for her mother's death. Her mother had died from wounds received from a duel fought in defense of her mixed race daughter. Afterwards, Chelsea's 'aunt'; her mother's lover, laid the blame for the untimely death upon Chelsea. Chelsea's mixed heritage was a cause for plenty of scorn and a source of embarrassment for polite Hesperian society. It was better to send her somewhere that she would be out of the way, perhaps for good.

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 Quaddani border. This was not completely unusual; after all, the truce with Quaddan 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 Quaddani regulars were behind the raids all along, and had just been testing the strength of the Hesperian lines and their willingness to fight. The Quaddani had recaptured much of the surrounding country and small villages, pushing the Hesperian forces back, and had even occupied parts of the capital city of Halcyon. Chelsea was nearly 20 years old by this time. She was to see four major battles before she was 21 years of age.

The first one took place near a small village called Heironimus. The Amazons were victorious in recapturing the town and preserving their line of supplies, 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 physical 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, despite her mixed racial make up.

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 Quaddanis was not nearly so successful for Hesperian forces. They lost the battle as well as many of their sisters. The Quaddanis had been learning the tactics of the Hesperian soldiers by this time, and had adapted to counter them. 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 arrived 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, the enemy is entrenched within the high ground of a wealthy neighborhood of the capital city of the colony: Halcyon. The wealthy estates of former residents of the city are like small fortresses in themselves, each surrounded with stone or clay walls, large mansions with many rooms difficult to clear in savage house to house fighting. The mission is to drive them out and reclaim the capital for Hesperia.


*******************

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 Hesperian 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; an Outlander from her looks. She looked like she was just a little lost or something, resigned to her fate maybe. Yet she looked proud and defiant, a typical Amazon. She was exactly the kind who would probably fall in battle, never having had a chance to learn how to survive. It wasn't fair, Chelsea 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 longed for 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, especially one with skin and hair as dark as hers. There was rumored speculation that perhaps her mixed racial heritage might include some Quaddani blood. It was ridiculous, of course. Her complexion was darker than normal for Hesperian women, but she wasn't Nubian in any way. Not for the first time, she damned the short islander tribesman slave who 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 had stared right at me', she mused. 'Probably wondering why I look so different.' It didn't matter anyway. When Chelsea closed her eyes, she could see the girl's face, and if she kept them closed, 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 with her squad in the early morning hours. 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 and dark hair 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 had 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.

 

[ShireWolfe]

The New Girl

Phoboria: That was the name they had given the northern reaches of the continent. The lands of fear. At least... it was the name given to the land by the Hesperian Amazons of the south. The trees grew to the height of small mountains. And as hard as the granite they grew upon. The snow never lifted. It was a land of perpetual twilight. It was a hard land, and the Hesperian explorers from the soft south had never concieved of anyone being able to live there.

How wrong they had been. The 'lands of fear' were indeed populated. And what people they were. Proud warriors. Hunters, trappers, nomads. Close knit clan societies, with strong shamanistic and spiritual beliefs. Each Clan were divided only by their totem animals, the spirit whom they believed to be their spiritual guide and guardians. The creature they most sought to emulate in all things.

Eventually, as the Hesperian empire extended their borders, the warrior women discovered that there were indeed people living up in the lands they long believed were deserted. This in turn drove the Amazons to war. And thus, war came to Phoboria. And war in a way the clansmen had never experienced.

War between Clans had been short, bloody, and fierce. More rivalries and skirmishes. The winning Clan had taken possession of the old Clan's holdings and peoples, and their Totem had been left as a warning. But the Hesperian Amazons did not follow the rules of the Clans. They came, clad and armed in shining metal. They came in countless numbers, slaughtered their warriors, and burned down their Totems.

They crippled the northern Clans. One of the last tribes to fall called themselves the People of the Shadow Cat. Kaja, daughter of Eir, daughter of Yma, of the People of the Shadow Cat, hated the Amazons of Hesperia.

*******************

This place... Halcyon, they called it in their clipped, rolling, language, disgusted her. It was far too hot. It was too bright. It was too noisy. And it utterly -stank-. She glanced up at the city in disgust. She couldn't understand how ten of tens of people could live together like that. Never mind ten tens of tens, like some she had been told lived in the bigger 'polises' in the Empire. Her Clan had at the height been four tens and six of people when the Hesperian witches had come to claim her and her sisters.

As she walked across the Hesperian army camp, carrying her small bag of personal belongings and her weapons, including the plain wooden shield they had forced on her, her mind drifted back to the woman she had seen earlier, when they had herded her into the general's tent like some animal. Her skin had been darker than the regular bronzen-olive hue of the other Amazons. Not as dark as the foes she'd been sent to be massacred by, but darker than the other Hesperian.

Shaking her head, she tries to shake the image of the mysterious woman. No matter what she did, she seemed to stick in her mind. She pushes the tent flap open and glances around. The tent certainly seemed lived in. One cot was readied, and another wasn't even set up. Shrugging, she dumps her bag next to the unreadied cot, and kneels down next to it, getting to work on setting it up.

At the faint sound of the tent flap being flipped open, Kaja drops the cot and twists on the spot, drawing the jagged, razor-sharp, edge of obsidian blade from behind her back in a reverse grip, snarling. Her bright grey eyes stares over her blade to the mysterious woman which had been haunting her mind.

One thickly accented phrase escapes her lips, in an oddly sing-song manner. "What are you?"

 

[Annisthyrienne]

Chelsea stopped cold at the sight that greeted her in the dim interior of her tent. Turning to face her was a shadow cat, snarling and ready to pounce. It wasn't exactly like the ones they had in the far northern reaches of the empire; this one went on two legs instead of four, and wasn't sporting a tail, thank goodness. But the intensity, the ferocity, and the cat-like grace were all there in the crouching figure of the woman waiting with poised blade to attack.

Chelsea hastily threw up her hands in a placating gesture, palms out to show they contained no weapon. "Easy now, Outlander. Save your hostility for the enemy. You'll get to use that....err....'blade' on the morrow; soon enough. Until then, enjoy the peace while you can."

Chelsea eased aside to sit on her own bunk, not more than three feet away from the still bristling warrior woman who reminded her for all the world of a fiercesome predator. That she was an Outlander from the North was obvious, and Chelsea tried to recall what she had learned of the clannish warriors of the cold regions. It had been only through stories that she knew anything at all of them. She'd been too young when their lands were conquered to have participated. Back then, she was still at home in her mother's battle school, learning to specialize in the weapons that she now depended on for her life. But now things were different. Now this one was thrown into the same disheartening war as she was.

"As for 'what' I am, conscript, I am your new squad leader as of now. It's my job to lead you in battle, and with the Mother's mercy, keep you alive long enough for you to learn how to get along here. You may not want to be here. None of us do. But now you're here and in the 'shit' with us. And I've seen way too many good women die at the hands of these black skinned demons already. I don't want to lose any more girls."

Chelsea let her eyes roam over the newcomer as the woman slowly relaxed a bit, if you could call what she did relaxing. Even though she lowered her weapon, she still looked like she could easily and gracefully spring into a deadly pounce with naught more than a thought to suit action to whim. Her body was slender but toned, athletic, the body of a warrior. She wore dark leggings under fur lined boots and a fur loin cloth that extended from beneath her boiled leather armor bodice. On her sword arm, she sported a protective epaulette made of hard leather plates overlapping down to her elbow. Her other shoulder was covered in a thick patch of wolf pelt complete with the fur intact.

Chelsea noted that the outlander's skin was paler than her own, but then that was to be expected. From what she new of the northern lands where this one probably hailed from, the sun often didn't rise much beyond the horizon, and the weather was such that it didn't invite a person to spend much time outside. The newcomer had leather gauntlets on each wrist, nearly to her elbows. And the blade she now held in unspoken threat was made from some sort of glassy looking stone.

"Tell me, conscript. Do you have a name I should know before you try to cut me? Can you do any good with that pretty stone?"

 

[ShireWolfe]

"I am Kaja, daughter of Eir, daughter of Yma. I am of the People of the Shadow Cat. This is my Claw." She hisses softly, flicking the wickedly jagged and slightly curved obsidian blade from a reverse to a standard grip, showing that the pale northern girl with those dark eyes possessed a great deal of skill with her chosen weapon. She rises from her crouched, coiled, position slowly, watching the dark-skinned woman warily. Hesitant and slow to relax or trust.

She moves slowly, each step measured and utterly silent, to return to setting up her discarded cot. She kept throwing the occasional glance to the woman whom she obviously was to share the tent with. She was different from the other Hesperians she had seen during her trip down from her northern homelands. It was curious. Was she from another region and people that the Imperials had enslaved? Yet she spoke like a true Hesperian Imperial, and carried herself like a traditional Battle Sister of the Hesperian Amazons.

She works in silence, finally setting up her cot she drew her 'Claw' once more, her eyes fixed on Chelsea's own. "Ice Bear, Ghost Boar, Stone Ox. They have all slept on the red snow, thanks to my Claw. Soon, these dark giants will sleep on red... sand?" She frowns and shakes her head, clearly not used to being this far south, where snow was rare even in the middle of winter.

"And you? Do you have a name, Squad Leader?" Sheating her blade once more, she takes a seat on her cot, and places her pack at the end.

 

[Annisthyrienne]

"I am called 'Chelsea'." she replied. Her eyes wandered over the features of this newcomer, not without a hint of sadness in them. This pale Northerner was a fine specimen of womanhood, but it wouldn't matter to the Quaddan. Chelsea could almost see that pale bosom pierced with a Quaddani spear, the extended oval leaf shaped blade transfixing the creamy flesh and the lung and heart beneath it. In her eyes, the rivulet of crimson flowed out from the cruel wound to stain the leather bodice as those bright grey eyes would dim, and those full pink lips would slacken.

Chelsea closed her eyes with a shudder, as if she could block out the vision. But it still remained, generated more by her mind than her eyesight. Her eyes flashed open, locking on those of her tent-mate. "You need to understand that the Quaddan are not like any beasts you've fought before. They are not mindless animals who fight with tooth or claws. They use spears that can pin you to a wall like a bug before you could even get close enough to use your blade. Remember that. It might keep you alive. When we go into battle tomorrow, stay close to me. Watch and learn. I believe you, Kaja, when you say you've slain those beasts, and no doubt they were formidable. But you were successful because you knew their ways. You don't know the Quaddan; not yet. I pray you will learn their ways before it's too late."

Chelsea shook her head, looking away before continuing in a wistful sad voice. "I've seen your kind before: young, fierce, proud, and ready to fight everyone and everything to prove your mettle. And I've seen them all too often staining the sands with their own blood when they underestimate the Quaddan." She turned back to Kaja, meeting her eyes with a hint of sadness. "I don't want to see that happen to you, Kaja. Too many good women have already been sacrificed to this bloody war."

She nodded towards Kaja's bunk. "The one who slept there before you came....Chandria, her name was. She was my friend, or as close as any have come to being a friend to me." Tears moistened Chelsea's eyes as she viewed a scene apart in space and time. "She was by my side when she died. The Quaddani bastard who killed her tasted my spear down his throat before the sun set on her body." Her voice had a hard emotional edge to it as she recalled her vengeance for her friend's death. Then it grew softer in melancholy again. "But that didn't make up for losing her. It never does."

Chelsea lapsed into silence, reflecting on the loss. Several moments later, she looked up again at the new arrival, wiping the tears from her cheeks as her stoic facade slipped back into place. "I apologize for my weakness. I should not have let you see that. Forgive my manners; you are probably hungry and tired. If you'd like to eat, I can show you where the mess tent is, and the baths, if you'd care to relax a while afterward. We'll be called to battle early in the morning, before the sun is fully in the sky. So we'd better enjoy this chance while we can."