Battle For Tristaine Part 7

two months in a quiet mountain meadow, the racket alone all but fl ash-fried her nerves.

The square was lit with gold from bonfi res and torches, and the scent of the pine boughs used in Festival decorations was everywhere. That's about all Brenna could take in before someone saw Jess and yelled her name, and then they were swamped.

Brenna never doubted Jess was well loved in Tristaine. She had found her irresistible in the City, under the worst conditions imaginable. But her lover had grown up with these women, and for almost a year, they didn't know if she was alive or dead. They couldn't stop touching Jess. A quiet part of Brenna realized she had never experienced anything like this, the kind of emotion that poured from these adanin. The intensity of that bond could power the City generators for a month.

No one paid any particular attention to Brenna at fi rst, which was fi ne with her. She worried a little that Jess might be backslapped to death, but watching her, she couldn't stop grinning. Three of her old friends jumped her, a little too roughly for Brenna's taste, and Jess actually bellowed with delight. And that wonderful dark, rich, rolling laugh...Jess held her silence even under Caster's whip, but seeing these sisters again unlocked her throat.

Brenna's throat kept closing up. I'm not sure I can live in this place if it makes you feel so b.l.o.o.d.y much all the time, she thought . Maybe Jess and I can live in a cave higher up. No, wait, lower down.

"Walk with me!" Jess had to yell to be heard as she took Brenna's hand and began weaving through the rejoicing villagers.

Brenna was enjoying this, becoming light-headed with the buzz of euphoria in the women around her. Nothing much was demanded of her at the moment, and most of the Amazons greeted her with enough friendly interest to bolster her courage.

"Too many voices," Jess shouted cheerfully in Brenna's ear. They didn't make much headway at fi rst, as it seemed every Tristainian they met was waiting to greet Jess with an ecstatic embrace. Gradually, they wended their way through the mob and * 62 *

reached the corner of the village square. Brenna paused, panting a little as Jess stopped at a handmade table bearing mugs of hot cider.

"Sip it," Jess instructed as she wrapped Brenna's cold fi ngers around the earthware mug. "It's strong."

The stronger the better, Brenna thought, and inhaled the tart fragrance that rose from the steaming brew. Its heady aroma seemed to expand her senses, and her gaze darted everywhere, taking in the village.

The blue moonlight revealed shadows of log buildings beyond the bonfi res, s.p.a.ced widely over the gra.s.sy plain. Tristaine was bisected by a fast-moving river about thirty yards wide, and Brenna could hear its muted roaring beneath the clamor of the Festival.

"That's our meeting house." Jess pointed at the stately lodge across the river, on Tristaine's highest ground. "It can seat six hundred Amazons for clan council. Those cabins are our homes.

They extend farther up the mountain for those who want privacy.

Those two long lodges over there," she indicated, "belong to our guilds, the artists and the tradeswomen. They made the cup you're drinking from, and our woodworkers built that bridge spanning the river."

Brenna heard the pride in Jess's voice and thought it was well justifi ed. She had imagined this place for months and, at least by moonlight, it was truly beautiful. "Is that an orchard over there?"

"Aye, our orchard and gardens. And we house our animals in the fi eld beyond them."

"Lions and pigs?" Brenna grinned.

"Sheep and goats," Jess corrected. "And the fastest mustangs ever bred in these hills."

"What's the little crater with the bonfi re?" She nudged Jess.

"Did you blow up a lodge when you were a stoned toddler?"

Jess laughed, a breeze lifting her hair from her brow. She looked fully healthy for the fi rst time since Brenna met her. "That's our storyfi re circle where we trade legends at night. It's the closest we come to ma.s.s entertainment, la.s.s. We have great theater, though, and our chorus can invoke angels."

* 63 *

"Hey, is that a stadium?"

"Tristaine's arena." Now Jess was beaming. "Our warriors train there and hold tournaments. That's Shann's infi rmary next to it. And north of the arena are the stables..." Jess looked down at her.

"Ach, I'm going real fast, Bren. You'll not be tested on this stuff in the morning, I promise."

"I want a full tour in the morning." The cider was helping Brenna relax. "I'd love to see the infi rmary, Jesstin."

Jess began to agree, but then they were swarmed again by a party of well-wishers. She kept Brenna's hand and introduced her, but gradually Brenna worked her way un.o.btrusively out of the group. She lifted another mug to warm her belly while she watched the festivities.

Brenna was entranced by the range of dogs of every shape and size, yapping and dancing freely throughout the village. The owners.h.i.+p of pets was carefully regulated in the City, and only the aristocracy could afford the few purebred species allowed.

Her eye fastened on a speeding projectile of white fur and traced the small yelping mutt as it raced through the square, launched itself fearlessly into the air, and crashed into Kyla's open arms.

"Max!" Kyla shrieked and laughed as the dog swiped her face with its tongue. Brenna worried briefl y about germs, then chided herself for her City mentality.

"Maximillian." Camryn lifted the ecstatic mutt off Kyla's lap and held it squirming and kicking at arm's length. "Greetings, Max.

How's the fi ercest wee beastie in Tristaine? We missed you."

Brenna grinned as the somber warrior held off the wild gyrations of the thras.h.i.+ng ball of fur, determined to slurp her face.

"The clan's dogs belong to everyone," Jess's low voice rumbled at her side. "But like our horses, they choose their favorite allies."

"I can see that." Brenna felt Jess's arm around her shoulders.

"Kyla looks wonderful, Jesstin. So does Cam."

"They do," Jess agreed. "Whoops. Look, la.s.s, a royal summons."

* 64 *

Brenna followed Jess's gaze to a large canopy erected near the Amazons' storyfi re pit. Shann beckoned to them from beneath its colorful fabric, and they picked their way down to her.

"You were looking a little overwhelmed, Blades." Shann pressed Brenna's shoulders. "I'm craving a moment of calm. Will you join me? You too, Jesstin. You have elders to greet."

"With pleasure, lady." Jess's eyes were s.h.i.+ning, and Brenna turned to see three older women seated on padded benches around a small fi re. They regarded Jess with unbridled delight as she bent to kiss their cheeks, her strong fi ngers gentle around hands gnarled and mottled with age.

"Jesstin, you've sprung up like a weed." The large woman seated in the middle beamed at them, and her two friends laughed, a sound like river water splas.h.i.+ng over mossy rock.

"They've been telling me that since I was six," Jess explained to Brenna.

"These three elders sit on Tristaine's high council, Bren."

Shann was pouring fermented cider into mugs from a ceramic jug.

"They've guided me wisely for long seasons, and Jocelyn taught me everything I know of healing."

"I'm pleased to-Jocelyn?" Brenna's eyebrows arched. "Um, pardon me, are you Jode's mother?"

"That's me." Jocelyn smiled, and her smooth face wreathed in wrinkles. "Shanendra tells us Jodoch served his mother's line well in the City."

"He's my hero. Really." Brenna's shoulders were relaxing again. Jocelyn's maternal presence was as warming as the small fi re at their feet. "We could never have escaped from the Clinic without him."

"Welp, at least this one has manners." The woman with a shaved head on Jocelyn's right grinned at Jess, her sun-weathered skin s.h.i.+ning like mahogany in the fi relight. The colorful glyph she wore on one side of her neck identifi ed her as one of Tristaine's warriors. She waggled heavy eyebrows. "And she's better looking than most you've panted after, urchin."

* 65 *

"Sarah." Jocelyn tapped the bald Amazon's knee. "It would be nice if you'd let us greet just one new arrival with some courtesy, before your odd candor sends her screaming off into the night.

Brenna? The serene angel on my left is Dorothea...and this old wretch is Sarah, our village banshee."

All three elders t.i.ttered again.

"Sit down, little sister." The sweet-faced Dorothea clasped Brenna's hand in her own and patted the small bench beside her.

"We want to pick your brains a bit before we march off to our winter palace in the morning."

"You mean before we're banished with the rest of the crones."

Sarah snorted into her cider. "Like the useless relics we are."

"Self-pity, adanin. Not attractive." Jocelyn plucked a corner of the other woman's shawl, but there was affection in her voice.

"The migration is voluntary, and you know it. With that asthma, you can't take another winter up here. You wheeze like a bellows at night. Lady, you've told Brenna about our annual tradition?"

Shann nodded. "She knows Tristaine sends her infi rm down to the southern meadows each fall to escape the mountain blizzards. A cadre of warriors goes with them for protection and hunting through the winter."

Jocelyn resettled her ample weight on the bench and directed her question to Brenna. "And you know that this year our queen will order the entire village emptied?"

"Yes. I guess that's necessary because Caster's getting ready to attack." Brenna eyed the pitcher of cider as it made its rounds.

The focused attention of the three elders was a little unnerving. Even Shann was watching her with an odd intensity. "Everyone will leave except for a squad of Jesstin's handpicked warriors to make sure no one follows the clan." She sought out Jess, who stood in respectful silence behind Shann's bench.

Dorothea nodded. "It's a sad time for us, young Brenna. It's diffi cult to sever the bonds holding us to this land."

"Sever. As in forever?" Brenna looked at Shann, troubled.

"You mean this migration is permanent? Everyone's leaving and never coming back?"

* 66 *

"I'm afraid so, Blades." Shann smoothed her hand over her arm as if to comfort herself. "We've always known that we can't match the fi repower of the City's Military, not under full a.s.sault. If Amazons are to survive, we must move on."

"The high council who sat thirty years ago proposed this plan, Brenna, long before our lady's reign." Jocelyn's tone was gentle.

"We've always known we would have to leave eventually. Shann and Dyan had the vision to prepare us for it."

Brenna didn't understand why her throat ached with tears.

She had walked into Tristaine for the fi rst time only an hour ago.

"The heart of Tristaine will endure." Shann looked up at Jess, who avoided her gaze. "Amazons are long accustomed to exile, Bren. We carry our heritage with us. And our culture. The City's grenade launchers can destroy our lodges, but as long as some of our sisters live to rebuild them, they can't touch the soul of our clan."

"But." Sarah leaned forward. "This Caster puta won't have grenade launchers, praise Anath." Her voice was low and fi rm in the quiet. "If we have to lose our village, lady, we should at least take out that craven b.i.t.c.h and her mercenaries fi rst."

"Mercenaries?" Jess looked inquiringly at Shann.

"Yes, adanin." Shann quirked one eyebrow at her second. "Our elders bring us interesting tidings from Theryn's source in the City.

Apparently, Caster has fallen badly out of favor with her superiors since your escape from the Clinic. She lost her Government funding and much of her reputation."

"But now the old hag has suckered money out of some private outfi t down there." Sarah waved a gnarled hand. "Enough to hire a company of militia, anyway."

"How many? Do we know?" Jess's voice held new tension.

"Theryn's contact could only learn the size of Caster's private grant." Shann looked at Jocelyn, who nodded. "She has enough funding to pay and arm a small platoon at least."

"One platoon? Shann." Jesstin knelt next to her queen. "We can handle one scientist and a squad of thirty City soldiers."

"Soldiers far better armed than our warriors, Jess."

"But it's our terrain." Jess lifted Shann's hand. "We have the * 67 *

advantage there, lady, and we're better trained. We can drive Caster out."

"Perhaps." Shann brushed her fi ngers through Jess's hair.

"But only perhaps. And if we did win that battle, Jesstin, what then?

One small defeat would hardly stop the City."

"We could stop Caster." Jess pressed Shann's fi ngers. "Her vendetta against us is personal, lady. You've seen the venom that runs through her veins. The City's Military isn't going to bother to track down Amazons who've moved deeper into the mountains.

That banshee might. We can end that threat."

"But at what price, adanin?" Shann's elegant features were pensive. "After tomorrow's migration, less than fi fty warriors will remain to defend our village. We would risk shedding such dear blood-"

"Shanendra." Jocelyn's voice was compa.s.sionate. "You know as well as I that a queen of warrior women must fi nd the courage to order her sisters to fi ght."

"Listen well to the counsel Jesstin offers, lady," Dorothea added. "Your own Dyan taught her, and she has your adonai's courage."

"Yes, Grandmother. She does." Shann kissed the back of Jess's hand. "All right, Jesstin. Instruct your cadre leaders to prepare for battle."

"Done, Shann."

"And this is where you come in, little sister." Jocelyn smiled at Brenna.

Brenna started. "Me?"

"Tell us about these dreams, Brenna." Dorothea patted her hand, her small eyes brightly studying her face.

"Oh, no." Brenna drew a breath. "Shann-"