Disclaimer: I own the plot, though I apologize if it's been done before. Everything relating to Tamora Pierces novels, obviously, belongs to her. (This fic was inspired by the second episode of the first season of Hercules, the Legendary Journeys, and I don't know who that belongs to, but its not me.)
AN: Hi guys, sorry this took so long! I just couldn't seem to make the chapter meet my approval this time around... I think it's pretty good now. It just took a while. Again, sorry for that. I hope you like this new addition to the story, and hopefully the next chapter will come along a bit quicker... Enjoy!
Queen of the Amazons
Chapter 2: The Amazon Queen
By Jess S
The dungeons really were quite commendable; meticulously cleaned and well kept, with amenities to accommodate waste and furniture for rest, relaxation and monotony alike. But their place of lodging was, nonetheless, a prison. The chambers were designed to keep them in a secured location from which they had no means of escape.
And they hated it.
No matter where they were from or why they were there, all of the men currently trapped within the Amazon's dungeons hated it. They hated the fact that they were trapped. They hated the fact that women had captured them. They hated the fact that the situation seemed to be beyond their control, even their comprehension. And that hate did not leave much room for reasonable discourse, as it was bound to dissolve either into shouting matches and childish roughhousing or this incessant, fixed silence.
Which was why Sir Myles decided to break it, looking around the room at the other men that were currently being contained with them. "Good afternoon. I am Myles of Olau..."
Duke Gareth, agreeing with the course of action, also introduced himself, and the other members of their party shortly following suit, the prince's introduction earning more then a few gasps and raised eyebrows from some of the foreigners.
"So you've finally decided to come investigate this society of savages that has risen within your borders?" One of the foreigners, a large Tusaine noble by the looks of him and the knights that were with him, and from the capital if his accent was any indication.
"I beg your pardon?" Jonathon demanded. His voice was quiet and circumspectly neutral, but his striking eyes were sparkling with indignation.
"These women, if they can be called that," he replied, spitting the identification as a concoction of disbelief and derision, "have controlled this region, from somewhere in the Tusaine Mountains in Tortall to Galla, encompassing much of northern Tusaine and southern Scanra, for at least half a decade; probably longer. From what little our mages and scouts could devise, their capital is on your land, and you have done nothing about it."
"And you are...?" Sir Gareth inquired, his dislike for the younger noble only just concealed.
"Count Jemis," the large, malevolent man replied, "of Tusaine."
"The spy?" Myles inquired, his tone far too neutral for the inquiry.
"I beg your pardon?" the count demanded, a nasty look crossing his face.
Tortall's spymaster shrugged, apparently unconcerned by the barely concealed hostility that was rising up from the men of Tusaine in the room. "It's a well known fact, among the intellectual and logistically aware, that King Ain's youngest brother is rarely seen in any court; at home or abroad, because he spends much of his time riding the land and reporting back to the second oldest of the Tusaine royals, Prime Minister Hilam. Many assume that those reports include spy work." The older knight explained coolly, his normally gentle eyes sharply focused on the edgy royal.
"Well, perhaps you don't consider interaction with the common people and direct observation of fieldwork and the like to be important for the royals of Tortall, but in Tusaine we value it quite highly. The courts manage quite well under the care of my elder brothers, so my time is best spent elsewhere about the realm. But I have no need to spy on my own people, Myles of Olau."
"Certainly not," the knight agreed with halfhearted shrug. "But that doesn't mean you don't...according to the international community, of course."
"Of course..." the count replied coldly, a nasty sneer dominating his features.
"Well," one of the nobles from Galla interrupted, "as interesting as that all is, I really must wonder if anyone has thought of a way out of this... predicament. For I certainly can't find one."
"From what I can see," Duke Roger offered as he looked around their 'chambers,' "we're quite secure for the moment. If I had my Gift I might be able to formulate a method of escape, or create one..."
"Can anyone access their Gifts here?" a noble from Scanra inquired, the cut of the robes he wore marking him a healer. "I haven't been able to since we were captured."
"O' course you haven'," one of the men who had remained quiet, seated in the far corner of the room snorted, his companions obviously sharing in his contempt.
The nobles turned towards the man, who like his friends was clearly not noble by birth. The clothing they wore, the way they wore it, the way they sat; almost everything about them marked them as commoners to many of the nobles there. And not commoners in the sense that the guards that had come with all of them were common by birth; these were men who were accustomed to living hard lives and looking down on those who did not.
"What do you mean, sir?" Sir Gareth the Younger inquired, jumping in before one of the more hotheaded nobles could.
"The Amazon Queen don' permit it, no' in 'er lan's." The man replied with a shrug, turning back to the card game he and his friends had obviously been playing for quite some time. Clearly not troubled about the interest the nobles were giving them or their surrounding. "An' she's a righ' powerful mage, she is."
"Oh? And how do you know that, if you don't mind my asking, Master...?"
"'M called Scholar, an' this is Lightfingers," the older man replied lightly, not turning his attention away from the game as he introduced the other Tortallian commoner who'd spoken earlier. He didn't go on to introduce the other members of the group, who were clearly of the same livelihood, though perhaps not the same nation. "An' we know 'cause we've been 'ere b'fore."
"You have?" Jonathon frowned at them, and then waived to the room, "Then why are you locked up with us?"
The man snorted, "The Amazon's don' like mos' men. 'Specially ou'siders. They always throw ye in prison for a' leas' a few hours if ye give 'em a hard time when they bring ye in. An' unluckily, 'er Majesty 'as been stuck dealing wi'h all ye mages, so she hasn' had time ta let us out an' see us yet."
"Why would she see you?" Gary asked. "And why do they hate 'most men'?"
"Life is better in Tortall for mos' women, but no' all. 'M sure you met the men o' Wa'erside?"
"We did..." Duke Gareth frowned, "A bit strange, surely. But what do they have to do with this?"
"Everything." Scholar snorted, shaking his head, "Those bastards embody almos' everything the Amazons hate most 'bout men."
"What do you mean?" Prince Jonathon asked, frowning as he scoured his brain for what set the men of Waterside apart from other Tortallians.
"They're abusive pigs tha' believe women are born to serve them, tha's what." Lightfingers snorted, his voice even heavier with contempt then it had been
"Serve them?" Gary frowned, "From what we saw, there weren't any women there."
"'Course no'," Lightfingers glared at them, "Why would they wanna stay there?"
"Where did they go then?" Sir Raoul inquired his voice cautiously curious.
"To their Queen." Scholar answered easily, his tone implying that even an idiot would have been able to figure that out.
"Their Queen? They're... here now?" Gary asked, ignoring the contempt that had been directed at them. "As Amazons, like the ones that captured us?"
"O' course."
"So what if a couple or Tortallian commoners hit their women?" Count Jemis of Tusaine demanded, scowling at the two rouges. "What does that have to do with the rest of us! We're nobles."
Again, the light-fingered rouge snorted, "An' 'o course nobles never abuse their women," he replied, heavy sarcasm lacing his already contemptuous tone.
"Well, of course, some might, but not everyone--"
"Even if they don' hit 'em, mos' men trea' their women-folk as little more than slaves, ornamen's, plaything or the like."
"We don't!" One of the other nobles protested loudly, many others nodding in indignant agreement even as they all listened at rapt attention.
"Oh no?" one of the other commoners, this one was on the other side of the table from the nobles, surrounded by his companions and the hood of his cloak shadowing his face and any other physical attribute they might be able to identify him by. The only other attribute that set him apart from his companions was his slightly more polished speech, "Then what are all of your little court flowers? The only other women you migh' mingle with are servants, and it's not like they're never mistreated."
"The ladies at Court, both in Tortall and I'm sure, all around the Mortal Realm, are the daughters of noblemen, members of the aristocracy, seeking eligible suitors." Sir Myles pointed out mildly.
"Decked out in pretty clothes and face paint, with only a title b'fore their name, the expensive cloths and sparklers they wear to sep'rate them from common whores."
"How dare you!" another nobleman shouted in outrage; while many others cried out in agreement, their faces red with suppressed ire.
"What?" one of the women guarding their cell door inquired as she turned her contemptuous dark eyes towards them through the bars on the door. Had their anger at the discussion not clouded their acuity, many might have noted that she was probably younger than the women whose lives they now debated. "You don't like to hear the truth?"
"It's not the truth!" Prince Jonathon protested, shaking his head as others nodded in agreement. "At least it isn't in Tortall."
"Or Galla!" A Gallan man called, to be echoed by nobles from other nations.
"Oh no?" the guardswoman snorted, shaking her head. "The Amazons native by birth to your nations disagree. The Tortallians certainly do. After all, most of the founders of this city were born among the Tortallian nobility."
"What!" several Tortallians cried, their faces masks of complete and utter shock.
"Who...?" the prince shook his head in bewilderment, "Why?"
The young woman rolled her eyes, glancing at his squire's equally perplexed expression for a short moment before looking away. "Why not? It's not like the life you would be willing to offer them is worth anything. In their youth, they're expected to be court flowers and bed warmers. Later to be married off to the highest bidder, with no or at least very little thought given to their own desires or real happiness. Thereafter tied to the bridal bed until they'd bourn enough children to keep them enslaved to their upbringing for a few decades. And then on to be dismissed as nosy busybodies without anything to support a word they say, or scorned for being book-learned if they know enough to contradict the men they interact with." She shook her head as she drew her speech to a close. "At least the women born into common homes have no difficulty proving their hardship, as they are more often beaten then just ignored."
"But...why don't they say anything, then? The ladies at court always seem...happy..." the prince objected, shaking his head, a heavy frown marring his handsome features."
"You ask that as if you would listen to them."
"Of course we would! We're knights! The Code—!"
"The Code of Chivalry protects every asset a lady may have to you, painting them out to be perfect, untouchable, and fragile dolls with no mind of their own and therefore nothing to say worth listening to."
"But...no...if..." the prince shook his head. "I'd listen! But...but they never say anything! At least they never say anything different from what any other lady says..."
"Of course they don't. They say what they're trained to say. And do what they're raised to do. If they try anything else when they are younger, or have the drive or desire for any other life when they're younger, it's beaten out of them at those bedamned convents you're so fond of sending them to and receiving them from."
Now most of the congregated males were frowning.
"They're...beaten? At the convents?" Raoul asked slowly, his thoughts turning to the beloved baby sister he'd only written five letters to since she'd been sent to the Convent of the Mother of Mountains five years past. He had received no reply to two of them, and the last response he'd received from her had been brief, uninformative and impassive.
"Beaten. Starved. Hackneyed. Brainwashed. Orally maltreated. Among other things. Whatever it takes to force them to accept the 'proper' way of life. After all, they're only allowed to weigh, and think, so much. And the conditioned, conservative old hags don't know anything else. So they therefore teach all the younger priestesses and teachers to carry on in the same way. As they have for centuries."
"But--"
Suddenly the other Amazon that was guarding their door snapped. "That is enough, Annette. You know better. As they have not received the Lioness's pardon, according to our laws they do no exist. If you continue to carry on as you are now, I will be forced to report you."
'Annette' nodded stiffly, before turning away from the door once more, to face the hall and thereby return to her position as a guard, her young face stony.
"Don't exist?" one of the Tusaine men demanded incredulously in the ensuing silence.
Gareth the Younger was frowning as he met his royal cousin's eyes, "Who's 'the Lioness'?"
"My lady? Are you alright?"
Alanna sighed, shaking her head as she settled her lavish skirts around the chair she had just claimed in the long hallway between her chambers and the dining hall. She then set her elbows on her knees as she bent over to rest her forehead in her hands. "I can sense him, Thayet... And he can sense me too. He just hasn't realized it yet."
The former Sarain princess sighed, shaking her head as she dropped gracefully into the chair beside her dear friend and Queen. "You knew that this day would come. You have dreaded it's coming, but expected it nonetheless."
"And now it's here." Alanna nodded, sighing a second time.
"Are you ready?"
"As ready as I'll ever be." She grinned ruefully, shaking her head again. "It's a pity the younger girls can't see me now. Perhaps then their praise of their courageous lioness would change to fit more realistic standards."
Thayet laughed. "They would still eulogize you, Alanna. They would still admire and adore you. Besides, I've heard you tell them a number of times, that even the most courageous of heroes feel fear; and--"
"They have simply found the strength to overcome it." The ruler or the Amazon nation nodded, "You're right." After a moment she shook her head again. "I'll receive George's men in the throne room before the nobles."
"Of course. Should I have them escorted up together?"
"No, separately. It shouldn't take long, as weary as they must be. And have the--"
"Guest suits readied. Mother is already seeing to it. She should be finished and on her way up for supper soon."
That drew another nod, "Good. You will offer her my gratitude?"
"Of course."
"Of course." The Amazon Queen smiled, shaking her head again, before drawing her shoulders back and rising to he feet, smoothing her elegant skirts out around her as she did so. "Then we'd best be on our way."
The K'mir-Sarain Amazon smiled before drawing herself to her feel and following her much-loved Queen to the throne room.
"...Squire?"
Thom jumped as his knight-master and prince's voice cut sharply through his inner contemplations. "Yes, milord?" he inquired, realizing that his prince and knight-master had obviously been trying to get his attention for some time.
"What's wrong, Thom? You've been quiet, even more so then usual."
The young Lord of Trebond shook his head. "I sense something."
"What?"
"I...I'm not sure... A presence..." he shook his head. "...A familiar one... I think..."
"You can sense someone? Through all of this?" Jonathon asked, his brow furrowed as he waived around them to indicate the intricate mage craft that surrounded them.
"Yes..." Thom nodded, frowning. "They're part of it... I think... And beyond it... ... It almost feels like..." he stopped, shaking his head.
"Feels like what?" the prince insisted gently.
His squire shook his head, sighing deeply. "If I didn't know better I'd think that my sister had cast this."
"Your sister?" Jonathon of Conté frowned. "You mean your twin? ...Alanna? ...But I thought that she died years ago? You went to her funeral, didn't you?"
"Yes." The younger man winced, making an obvious effort to draw his thoughts away from that excruciating memory. "It's just wishful thinking, of course. Alanna hated her Gift. Even if she were alive, I don't think that she'd ever be capable of all this..."
"It certainly is rather impressive," the Duke of Conté offered when the younger two mages remained quiet for several moments. After a few more moments of thought he turned his piercing blue eyes to his cousin's squire. "This presence... You can sense this with your Gift?"
"Yes."
"And it's not just the craft around us?"
"No... They're nearby... but outside all of this."
"So you can reach outside the mage craft?"
Thom closed his eyes, his brow furrowing in concentration for several moments before he sighed and relaxed back against the chair he had claimed shortly after they'd been placed in the prison. He shook his head, "No, I can't. It's like a wall of...invisible silk, I suppose. I can see through it, but its too solid and smooth too touch or reach through."
Tortall's most powerful mage nodded, sighing as he glanced around them, his eyes distant as he searched the walls once again. "Yes. I agree. I, too, can unfortunately find no escape from this."
"I should think not," a cool, feminine voice drawled from the door, and they all turned to see that another Amazon had entered their cell, backed by their two guards on each side and by what appeared to be an escort out in the hall. "Have you decided?"
"I beg your pardon?" Duke Gareth inquired after several seconds of solid silence.
The woman rolled her eyes. "Your representatives? Lady Kalasin told you that you might select ten from amongst your number."
"Oh, yes." Duke Gareth nodded, frowning as he looked over the men around him. "To dine with your queen?"
"Yes. At the seventh bell, which shall be ringing momentarily."
"Our most humble apologies," the Champion of Tortall offered. "I'm afraid that with all this excitement we were somewhat distracted."
The woman raised one of her dark eyebrows, "Then you would decline Her Majesty's invitation?"
"No, no. Certainly not," Duke Gareth bowed as any knight would in court, "I am sure we would need only a moment to decide and then we would be on our way. If we might have that brief moment to concur?"
After a moment's silence the woman nodded shortly. "You have five minutes. If you have not decided then, I will choose from amongst you myself." She turned her hazel eyes on the commoners in the far corner. "Gentlemen of the Rouge, Her Majesty will receive you now. Briefly. You will be escorted to the throne room and then onto the guest quarters, where you may find repast and rest, so long as you remember the laws your Master agreed to follow on Amazon lands."
"O' course, o' course, me lady," the garrulous 'Scholar' replied as he and his companions rose from their table, which had already been cleared of the card game that had been occupying them. "Even Ligh'fingers knows better then to try an' work amongs' the Amazons. An' its no' like we could escape the palace and the city unnoticed."
"No, it is not." The Amazon agreed, stepping aside to let the men pass into the corridor before following them out, her guards behind her. She called over her shoulder at the door, "You have three and a half more minutes."
And the door slammed shut behind them, locking the noblemen in once more.
Alanna offered am amused grin as the small group of Rouge's men swaggered in, shaking her head at their embellished genuflections. "Scholar, Lightfingers. Gentlemen," she nodded to the two she had met before and those she hadn't before focusing her attention completely on the fully cloaked man they surrounded. "George."
"Your Majesty," the Rouge replied with a grin as he also offered an embellished amateurish bow, drawing the hood of his cloak back as he did so.
"Have you enjoyed your stay thus far?"
He snorted, "With the high minded bigots down yonder? I know that you want your hospitality to be as infamous as your prowess in combat, but did you really have to toss us in with those blokes?"
"I understand that Buririam thought that it might be good for you. And I'm sure that they learned something. But tell me; What merits the King of the Rouge leaving his Court unattended for so long, and not too long after your last absence?"
"...It sounds like the Amazons aren't a well-kept secret any more, Alanna. In fact, judging from the blokes you've invited to your table tonight, it's no secret at all."
"No, it's not. Not anymore." The Queen of the Amazons shook her head. "But the Great Mother's protection was only supposed to last for so long. She gave us time to find our feet and learn how to stand and walk. But we're not children. We will have to support ourselves, and undoubtedly fight for our way of life."
"And that's all well and good, but are you ready for this?" the King of Thieves demanded, his eyes worried. "Minister Hilam of Tusaine has sent out a small army to search for his brother. Two-dozen knights and at least three legions, one hundred foot soldiers in each. King Roald has sent a dozen companies of the his Own, each led by a knight to find his son, Champion, relatives and everyone that accompanied them. Galla's sending a few companies with war mages. The Warlord doesn't have anyone to spare and no one he cares about is here. Though I'm sure that if he knew that his long-missing wife and daughter were here, that'd change..." the Rouge shook his head. "You're setting yourself up for an all-out war here, 'Lanna. And it's going to be the whole world against you. Are you ready for that?"
"We will face and triumph over anything the patron's world wishes to throw at us."
"But--"
"It is our choice, George. And the only choice we can now make. We will fight for our way of life, no matter what the odds." She told the Rouge, shaking her head wearily as she sat down on her formerly vacant throne. With a sigh she met her crooked friends eyes. "Have you anything else to speak of?"
The thief shook his head, "Scholar can tell you how many more girls we're helping here from the Isles, I don't rightly know off the top of my head."
Alanna nodded, "I thank you for that, as always; and for your words of warning. If you would like, guest quarters have been prepared for you and we can discuss this more in the morning over brunch."
"Gladly," the Rouge bowed again, this time appearing a great deal more worn from weariness and worry then he had coming in. "Till the morning then, love."
"Until then, my friend."
"And why exactly should six of the ten be your men?" Jemis of Tusaine demanded hotly, glaring at Gareth the Elder.
"The vast majority of the men here are Tortallian, your Grace," the Duke of Naxen pointed out. "You came with four knights, there are six mages from Galla, three men from Scanra, and we came with four companies of soldiers."
"He does have a point," one of the Gallan mages agreed, nodding to the points made.
"So you have made your choices then." The dark woman that had left them to confer a few short minutes before had returned just as silently as she had first come.
"We have, Lady...?" Sir Myles offered with one eyebrow raised inquisitively.
"I am no lady, Myles of Olau. If the ten representatives you've chosen would come forward now we will be on our way."
"Of course," Myles continued, barely missing a beat as he offered another bow before turning to make the introductions. "May I present, from Tortall; his Royal Highness; Prince Jonathon, Duke Gareth, Duke Roger, Sir Gareth the Younger, and Sir Raoul. And Count Jemis of Tusaine, Lord Alpines and Healer Montivaga from Galla and Master Mage Destry of Scanra."
"Charmed, I'm sure," the Amazon replied, her tone as sour as her youthful face was cold. "Only nine of you will be coming then?"
"We do not mean to offend—"
"It is not offensive, a bit odd, perhaps, but the choice is yours." The Amazon interrupted, before turning her attention to the other men, "Your supper will arrive shortly," she then spun on her heel with only a curt command to the party's delegates to indicate that they could follow. "Come. Her Majesty is expecting you."
As they followed
"It doesn't matter, Kally. Dozens of invaders or hundreds; I can keep them wandering on our borders forever. I know enough Immortal magic and can control the Dominion Jewel enough to do that, at least." Alanna told her worried friend and advisor, referring to the lessons their divine patroness had given her some years past, and the tremendous influence their nation's greatest treasure provided.
"Yes, but--"
"It does not matter right now. We can worry about it in the morning. For now we must turn our attention to our assorted guests."
"Of course, my Queen," Kalasin offered with a soft sigh. "The youngest Tourakom is bringing them up."
The Queen laughed softly, shaking her head, "You sent Buri to get them? Of all the K'mir, she's embraced the Amazon life-style more then almost any other. Are you sure she'll bring them all up alive and well?"
"So long as they cause no trouble, yes. Buririam's a good girl, if a bit stubborn."
"A bit." Alanna agreed, shaking her head at the thought of her foster-sister's constant companion serving as escort to whomever the noblemen had picked from their number. After a moment's thought she frowned, "How many were in the escort you sent down?"
"Six, not including Tourakom."
"Are you sure that is wise? They might try to overpower them. It would be ten to seven odds, after all. And they are men."
"But they are also soldiers and warriors of supposed-honor. The majority of our guests are Tortallian so the majority of the ten representatives will undoubtedly be Tortallian. And they will not put their brothers at risk."
"No, I suppose not." The Lioness nodded, shaking her head once more. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't doubt you after so long."
"Do not apologize. It's been a long day. And you are our Queen, and very good one at that. It only makes sense that you question you subordinates occasionally."
"No it doesn't. Not when I trust you."
"Even beloved monarchs can often only afford so much trust in those who serve them. And your friends are human, Alanna. I am human. I can make mistakes."
"I suppose," Alanna nodded, accepting her most trusted counselor's counsel. She glanced towards the door that the men would be escorted through and after a few moments of silence her eyebrows snapped together with a nearly audible click. "Should I be dressed like this?"
Kalasin blinked. "Like what?"
"Like...this," she waived to her semi-elaborate hairstyle, the expensive jewels and silks that elegantly lined her person and the magnificent crown that rested atop her head. "All of these silks, and jewels, and perfumes, and skirts--"
"Like a lady, you mean?" the K'mir beauty inquired with an amused smile.
"Yes."
"Of course. We want them to give some time to adjust don't we?"
"Why?"
"We don't want an all-out war with the patron's world, Alanna. Even if we would win, that's not our way. Not really. We're not warmongers. At least, I never thought we were."
"Oh...no. You're right... But I am not wearing all of this in the morning."
"Fair enough. I thought you liked wearing skirts occasionally?"
"Occasionally being the key word. With the added point that I wear them for myself, and no one else."
"Very true," the self-exiled Queen agreed, her smile a bit sad.
"So what are we going to do? If their queen is anything like her," Gary murmured softly, just loud enough for the two people on either side of him, his father and his cousin to hear, and nodded up towards the young leader of their escort. "We're doomed."
"Especially if their queen is the only one who can pass judgment on us." Jonathon agreed.
"Yes," Duke Gareth agreed with a sigh, and shook his head, "So we will just have to ensure that she judges us favorably."
"So keep the Tusaine chauvinist quiet?" Jonathon raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. "Do you think they'd notice if we knocked one of our number out?"
"If you could use your Gift, perhaps not. But they probably won't let us fight amongst ourselves." Gary nodded to the six Amazons that were around them, "It'd be too dangerous for them; we might be able to over power them that way."
"But it would put our men at risk."
"That's why they're trusting us enough to bring us near their queen, I'm sure."
The other two nodded in agreement, looking around them a second time before turning their eyes forward once more. However, those eyes couldn't help but wander over the semi-ornate marble pillars that held the ceiling aloft a few floors above their heads. That ceiling was painted in peculiar combinations of various colors that looked as though the artist had merely thrown paint at the high ceiling, but the sporadic mixtures of colors seem to have form nonetheless. No paint stained the dark marble floors beneath the red carpet that was under their feet. And the only paint on the walls was part of the lovely paintings that lined them. Some of the paintings were portraits of various people, most of them female, others seem to be exquisitely captured landscapes, some of them familiar, others not.
The heir to the throne of Tortall shook his head, impressed in spite of himself. "This place really is incredible...I mean, the pictures that historical artist drew up of what the cities might have looked like at their height of their societies were always nice, but this..."
"Is amazing," his uncle agreed, and then shook his head. "But we haven't the time to concern ourselves with it." He pointed out, as they appeared to be nearing a larger hall.
Both Amazons started out of their silent musing when a polite knock resounded from the door that led to the quickest path to the main dungeons.
With a sigh, Alanna nodded, granting her friend permission to welcome their guests while she made her way into a side chamber, "If you don't mind I would like to observe our guests unnoticed before joining you. I will 'arrive' shortly."
"Even if your brother is with them?"
"He isn't, thank the Gods! He's only a squire, after all, it would be insulting for the Tortallian party to favor one of their squires over another nation's older knights and mages."
"Of course, but are you ready for him? They could recognize you, you know."
"No. They will undoubtedly think I look a great deal like Thom, but I am believed to be dead. It is unlikely that any of them will make the connection."
"If you say so."
The redhead spared her foster-mother a soft glare, before rolling her eyes and turning to walk up the steps to her throne, where she sat down and touched one of the magical gems on the arm. She then seemed to fade out of existence, leaving behind a seemingly empty throne.
Kalasin rolled her eyes, "You love doing that, don't you?"
"Yes. Now go play hostess."
"Me? Many of them already know who I am. I certainly can't pretend to be you."
"No, just be 'the Amazon Queen's High Councilor.' Greet them as that, get them talking..."
"And you are going to be up there?"
"Watching. Yes."
"Won't their mages sense you?"
"The mages will probably notice the magical signature, but there's so much of it around here that they won't be able to really know what it is unless I drop the shield. Especially with their Gifts almost entirely suppressed."
After a moment Kalasin nodded, "I suppose, if it is necessary."
"It is."
"What are you waiting for?" Count Jemis of Tusaine hissed, glaring at their guards.
"Surely you do not expect to enter a lady's hall uninvited?" Duke Gareth offered with a frown for the younger man's brashness.
"What 'lady'? Considering the contempt these wenches hold for 'ladies,' they're leader cannot possibly be one!"
"I suppose your brothers have you away from court for more than espionage, Count Jemis," the cool voice of fair Scanran Queen turned Amazon offered as she greeted them from the now open doors to what appeared to be an elegant throne room.
"I have no idea what you are talking about, w—"
"You're a poor liar and have very little common sense or good manners, hardly someone any intelligent politician would wish to be connected to in any way." Lady Kalasin offered, her cool gray eyes fixed on his reddening face. "Please do keep in mind that there are few transgressions that could merit an immediate execution in the Amazon lands, but intentionally insulting Our Queen with no valid rationale is among them." She turned her gaze to the rest of them, smiling politely as she continued, ignoring the count's obvious outrage at her warning. "Welcome. If you follow me, we may be seated for supper."
After following her through the throne room – which was indeed a masterful work of prosperity and art – they arrived at what was clearly a dining hall, though probably a lesser one, as it would not be able to accommodate many more than those that were dining therein. There were several exits from the room, all of which were guarded by pair of masked guards, and a number of guards stood along the walls, also masked.
Oddly enough, the dining table itself was round; a perfect circle, in fact. And there seemed to be only the necessary number chairs around it, all evenly spaced. The Amazon who had led the group that captured them was waiting on the other side of the table, along with a young lady who bore a prominent likeness to their guide. Both were seated by a chair the resembled all of the others, except for the fact that it was gilded and the back rose higher then the others, with a vaguely familiar emblem on a head above the headrest.
"This is my daughter, Thayet, also among Her Majesty's Council." Kalasin introduced, while the former princess offered a slight curtsy. "And I believe you have already met Lady Elise, Queen's consul and commander of the Elite, some of whom you have also briefly met."
"A pleasure, ladies," Duke Gareth offered a puzzled smile as he bowed deeply to them, before looking around again, "I beg your pardon, but were we not supposed to dine with your Queen?"
"Yes, her Majesty is somewhat tied up at the moment. She bid us to start without her. She will undoubtedly arrive some time in the near future. Please," she smiled, waiving to the seats around the table, "be seated, so that we might begin."
"Begin what? We can't convince her to release us if she's not here!"
"My dear Count, most do not consider talk of death, war, and whatnot to be suitable discussion for dining."
"Of course, in the patron's world, you say that it would 'disturb the ladies' or something of that sort, but here we just admit that it is rather unappetizing, and therefore not a very good topic for suppertime discussions."
Lady Kalasin frowned at the younger Amazon that was sitting a few seats away from her, on what would be the Queen's right hand when she finally arrived. "If you wish to plead your case to the Queen you may certainly request an early audience, and she'll undoubtedly be happy to oblige you, after supper."
"Yes, of course," Duke Gareth agreed, shooting the younger knight a sharp look to silence him. "Though we certainly don't mind waiting for your Queen to arrive—"
"That won't be necessary," a woman's voice interrupted from the doorway they had entered through moments before. "I'm here now."
The men turned even as the ladies who had been seated rose and all of the guards, who had been standing at ease, snapped to attention.
The lady that stood before them was not 'beautiful' in the way that the two former Sarain royals who served her were, but she was still extremely attractive. And undoubtedly the most magnificent woman they had ever seen, even if they could not explain why.
Her exotic coloring undoubtedly led some credence to it. Her hair was swept elegantly atop of her head, pooling behind it and framing her heart-shaped face and golden crown in soft curls that greatly resembled natural flame in its striking mixture of vibrant coppers and fiery reds. The color of her eyes was noticeable too, as they were a bright and vibrant violet hue.
All ladies were taught how to walk, stand and whatnot when they were at finishing school. But the ladies in court never looked nearly so proud or independent as this lady. She stood with her shoulders back and her head held high, like a true queen. And her extraordinarily eyes seemed to note everything, like a true warrior.
"Good evening, gentlemen." The striking sovereign offered with one raised eyebrow as she made her way around the table, making no obvious gesture of noticing the bows and curtsy's her ladies offered as she passed them before taking her place at the end of the table. "I do hope we did not keep you waiting too long?"
"Oh, not at all...your Majesty," the Duke of Naxen offered immediately, offering a brief -- but nonetheless pointed -- glare to his companions before bowing to her, just as he would bow to his own sister and queen. "We are honored to join you for supper this evening, and hope that we may request a brief audience afterwards to discuss--"
"Granted." The Amazon Queen cut in with a slight nod, before offering a small, less than genuine smile, "But as Lady Kalasin pointed out, the supper table is not the place for such talk. Please, be seated."
Everyone hurriedly took their seats, some more reluctantly then others, but after a few moments and several glares all of the men and the Amazon courtiers present had taken or retaken a seat around the table. All were quiet, the men staring at this 'Amazon Queen' for varying reasons, while the Amazons that were seated by her watched them, and the Amazons that stood watch around the room watched the men all the more guardedly. The Queen herself was observing each of the men that now sat at her table closely, reading the emotions and thoughts in their eyes and features where they were to be seen, smiling slightly at what she saw all around.
After a moment, she nodded, smiling again. "I do not doubt that Kalasin has already offered you welcome to our nation's capital--"
"Yes! Before throwing us into your dungeons to rot with the ruffians you deal with regularly!"
Cool, unreadable violet eyes turned to the red-faced man across the table from her, and a delicate auburn eyebrow went up slightly over one of them. "For that I offer my apologies. Though you, in particular, are hardly in any position to judge our practices, Count Jemis."
"Wha--? How do you--?"
"I make a point of knowing whom I invite to my table," the Queen cut in, her voice still as calm and cool and emotionless as her expressionless eyes. "If you attended courts more regularly, I'm sure you would be aware of the practice."
"Why you--"
"Count Jemis is having a hard time adjusting to our lodgings, your highness," Duke Gareth cut in, offering the younger nobleman a quick glare before turning curious eyes and a gentle smile to her. "I understand he had been there for quite some time before our arrival."
"Yes, I suppose he was." She offered blandly, her eyes never leaving the steaming Count across from her. "Though that is hardly an excuse, considering his lineage."
When the Count opened his mouth to seek again, his lips suddenly snapped back together, his jaw going rigid as his lips suddenly glowed with the dark blue light of a mage's Gift. Everyone stared for a moment, before most of the men turned cautious eyes towards the Amazons.
Before any of the men could speak up in his defense, Alanna allowed a real, though still small, smile to slip onto her face as she raised an eyebrow one again, this time with good humor dancing in her eyes as she turned her attention to the Tortallian heir who was seated next to his uncle. "That was probably wise, Prince Jonathon, though I might have trouble arguing the ethics of it."
"How--?"
"How did you manage to cast the spell? Or, rather, send your Gift to work without one?" She smiled, "You are no doubt confused by the spells in the dungeons. There, and in some other areas, your Gift is completely suppressed by various spells I have laid about the grounds. Here, your Gift is still guarded, but not completely suppressed. As I'm sure you can now feel if you try to bring it to you."
Several mages around the room did so, their faces lighting up when they realized their Gift really was free.
"But that doesn't make any sense."
"Pray tell, why not, Sir Gareth?" the Amazon Queen offered another amused smile to the confused Tortallian.
"Well..." Gary shook his head, "assuming that you had wards in place to protect your people, why would you not have them everywhere?"
"That would serve some purpose," the Queen nodded, "which is why I do have numerous spells in place that would allow me to activate such wards at a moments notice. However, the upkeep over such a vast vicinity is dreadfully tiring."
"But wouldn't it be just as tiring to keep them up anywhere?"
"Not really. The wards in the dungeons are bound into the walls, the floors, and the ceilings. The only spaces that take a little more work are the windows and doors, and once you've set the groundwork for that the stone itself will hold the spells forever, if that is their purpose." The Queen shrugged lightly, before raising an eyebrow at them, "However, you must be hungry by now, so we'd best begin." She rose and clapped her hands twice before sitting again, and gesturing to the other vacant seats around the table, "Please be seated."
As several servers came in -- also masked, like the guards -- Sir Myles seemed to remember himself, and after meeting the Duke of Naxen's eyes he turned his full attention to their hostess, bowing his head in her direction while offering a warm smile, "Good evening, Your Majesty. I am Myles of Olau."
The young royal returned the smile, though it didn't seem to make it all the way to her enigmatic eyes. "I hope your time with us thus far hasn't been too terrible, Sir Myles?"
"Oh no, not at all, Your Majesty," the elderly knight replied, the sincerity that rang pleasantly through his warm tones drawing odd looks from some of the men. "A bit confusing, perhaps, but very enlightening. My companions and I should like to see more of your city; it seems to be modeled after the Old Ones?"
"Thank you," the Queen nodded to the server that had set her fully prepared plate down in front of her, removing the lid that seemed to serve the purpose of keeping the serving fresh and hot. "Not modeled, per say, Sir Myles. Much of it is simply reconstructed and repaired former ruin. Our Mother's blessings and a great deal of dedication from many talented mages and artists have helped us restore it to its former glory. Though they have added quite a few things here and there, as well."
"Fascinating," Duke Gareth interjected, glancing around the elegantly decorated lesser dining hall. "So all of the city is like this?"
"No," Lady Kalasin cut in, as the servers finished setting their full plates out before them, and some placed extra servings around the table for them while others filled their wine goblets before departing. "As impressive as the Old cities were, they were actually quite small. And although this was one of the largest of that time period, it really isn't anywhere near large enough for all of us."
"The restored ruins make up what is known as the 'Inner City,' or Astulea," the younger K'mir beauty murmured.
"City of the Lioness?" Myles asked, ignoring the surprised looks this drew from many of the men, and not caring if it was because he could translate the Old tongue so easily, or because of another reference to a 'Lioness.'
"Yes," the Queen replied, taking a sip of her wine. "Many of the younger girls felt it was fitting, and I didn't have the heart to object."
"One of our guards mentioned our needing the approval of 'the Lioness,' a short while ago," Prince Jonathon commented, "Is she your Champion, or...?"
When she saw her Queen wasn't going to reply right away, as she was very deliberately taking a bite of her steak at the time, Kalasin spoke again. "In a way, yes. The Lioness is our greatest fighter, and the Great Mother's Chosen One."
"The Great Mother?" The Gallan Mage repeated, eyes a little wider than usual. "You mean the Goddess? The Queen of the Gods?"
"Yes, Lord Alpines," Kalasin nodded, smiling slightly as the shocked looks the men now bore, though some quickly gave way to doubt. "The Queen of the Gods is our cities patroness, and as one of the Greater Gods she is able to visit the Mortal Realm, so she visits us quite often."
"Bah!" the Master Mage of Scanra interjected, shaking his head. "You may have some good mages on your side, but the Gods have not shown direct interest in the Mortal Realms in nearly a millennia."
"Master Destry," the Queen finally spoke again, shaking her head as she held the war mage's gaze. "Though I can understand your doubts and your want of having them, no mortal is fit to judge Gods. And certainly not Our Mother."
"But--"
"If you persist, I'm afraid I will have to ask you to join your companions in the dungeons once more. That would leave Scanra without a representative, but if that is your choice..."
Whether it was the coolly spoken threat, or that the mage noticed that the Amazon Queen's face was darkening like a thundercloud, didn't really matter. Because either way he proved himself more intelligent than the still unwillingly silent Count of Tusaine by reigning in his temper and backing down. "I apologize, your Majesty. Perhaps that was a bit out of line..."
The Queen nodded, the darkness that had settled about her face only moments before vanishing in the act, "Apology accepted." Her lips twitched slightly as she glanced at the now irate Count sitting next to the Scanran Mage. She turned her eyes to the Crown Prince of Tortall and raised an eyebrow, "Unless you want the man to go without supper, it would be wise to release him."
"Uh... I," the prince shook his head, glancing over at the Count before meeting the Queen's eyes once more. "I'm afraid I don't know how... I didn't cast a spell, so I'm not sure how to undo it."
The Queen allowed a small smile to grace her face one again, apparently amused by the panicked expression that suddenly settled onto the Tusaine royal's face. "You don't have much training with your Gift then, do you, Prince?"
"No," Prince Jonathon shook his head, "My father doesn't believe it's a necessary part of knight-training... Most of what I know I've learned from my Squire since being knighted."
"Hmm, you might want to correct him of that notion," the Queen offered before raising a hand, pointing at the Count's lips and snapping her fingers. The man's lips suddenly glowed a silvery violet color, making them pop apart before it faded. "I trust you shall strive to follow Master Destry and your other companions examples for some time, at least, Count?"
A pained look crossed Jemis of Tusaine's face, and he was fairly trembling with suppressed fury, but he nodded.
"Good, then try your steak. It's really quite good."
"Yes," Duke Gareth agreed with a nod, "Please send our compliments to your chefs."
The Queen nodded.
After that, supper past fairly smoothly; filled with small talk about architecture, mythology, history, and even some mage-craft, filling the small hall. Some of the men seemed to slowly warm up to the atmosphere, even to the point when some of the younger knights were offering flattering comments to their younger hostesses, occasionally drawing blushes from the self-exiled princess, and dark looks from the other young K'mir, though Lady Elise and the Amazon Queen didn't react much at all, with the exception of occasional half-smiles and nods.
Once their desserts and additional alcohol had been imbibed, the Queen nodded again, before rising. "Now, I believe you requested an audience?"
"Yes, your Majesty." Duke Gareth nodded, bowing as she past by, and after glancing at the guards around the room he decided to follow the example of the other ladies they'd dined with, all of whom were following their young queen.
Alanna shook her head slightly, suppressing a smile as she sat down once more, this time on her throne in the lesser audience chamber. There were grander halls and dining areas in the palace, to be sure, but they required a great deal of upkeep, and she didn't like to use them unless she was receiving enough guests to fill them. This had only happened about a dozen times in the past five years.
Nonetheless, both the lesser dining hall and the audience chamber certainly seemed to make an impression on the delegates of the patron's world. So they were off to a good start.
Now, to see how the men were handling it...
"I assume you would like different lodgings from where you were located previously?"
"If it wouldn't be too much trouble... I assure you, none of the men have intentionally done anything to merit being imprisoned--"
"You, your men, and all of the other men did invade our lands, Duke Gareth." Lady Kalasin interrupted, her raised eyebrow revealing where her young Queen came by the action.
"Bah!" Count Jemis erupted, glaring at the women. "These are not your lands! Everything you claim to be yours was never taken from or recognized by the international community. They are still part of the countries you claim to have taken them form!"
"On the contrary, Count Jemis," the Amazon Queen replied, humor coloring her tone, although her face was dark. "Almost all of your maps do not label Agerlea as part of anything. The Goddess shielded the lands were for many millennia, before She gave them to us. That is why you were unaware of us for so long. The lands exist in the Mortal Realm now, but were beyond the reach of any mortals a century past."
"That... that's impossible!"
"No, it isn't," the Conté Duke cut in, shaking his head. "It's incredible, yes. But not impossible. In fact, it explains a great deal..."
"I'm sure it does." Alanna nodded, "But the point of the matter is that Agerlea is the Amazon nation, and its lands have never been part of the patron's world. So you may claim no power here. Nor can you call us thieves, or anything of the sort."
"Of course not--"
"No!" Tusaine's representative broke in again, almost frothing at the mouth. "I refuse to believe it! You're lying! You're a liar, and your people are thieves!"
Alanna kept her expression perfectly neutral, though she was sure her eyes were giving them a fair impression of how angry she was quickly becoming. She took a deep break and expelled it before replying. Bold words, considering you can't possibly hope to back them here and now."
"I can fight anyone of y'ur people, and my best knight could take your Lioness any day!"
At this, Alanna made a point of not looking towards her foster mother, before replying with a raised eyebrow. "That's an interesting proposal. Very well," she nodded, still ignoring the glare she could feel her most trusted advisor was sending her way. Although she could see Elise approved of this course of action. "Yes, your Champion will meet the Lioness an hour after we break our fast tomorrow morning, and the duel shall decide your fate."
She could see several of the men didn't like the idea of this, and rightly so, but they were hesitant to speak against it when one of their number had already offended her so severely. That was why she'd made sure they would all be group together. Separate groups from different nations would trust in their best, brightest and wisest to lead them, and if one of the groups was led by an idiot like the Tusaine Count, Tusaine would suffer. But by forcing them to come together in a united, international group, Jemis of Tusaine hurt them all... Thus they were likely to eventually turn against him, and side with her. Eventually...
She rose quickly when it looked like one of the more intelligent men was readying themselves to object, "Sleep well, gentlemen. The guards will lead you to your new quarters..." Alanna quickly shot a stern look over to the young K'mir woman that would be leading them, "Buririam, be polite."
As the men were led off to the guest wing that had been readied for them, she retook her seat on the throne, awaiting the storm that was sure to come in the form of her councilor's protestations...
End of Chapter 2: The Amazon Queen
Translations:
Thalami - abode of women
Agerlea - Land/Territory of the Lionesses
Astulea - city of lioness
Thalami - A woman's dwelling
Side Notes/Credits:
( 1) - 'The patron's world' -- taken from a reference in "Trinity" made be "Wonder Woman"
( 2) - I can't remember if Prince Jonathon is related to Duke Gareth and Gary on his father or mother's side, but I'm assuming its his mother's, if that isn't true in cannon, sorry, but that's what it is here.
( 3) - I'm just using Latin as the language of the "Old Ones" -- writers license, and the fact that we don't really know much about them... Though I haven't read the newest of Tamora Pierce's Tortall series, so...maybe there is more in the canon? If so, please let me know.
Author's End Notes:
Well, that's all for now. This chapter was a little longer than the last one... Although it was a lot of dialogue. Hopefully the next one won't be quite as bad.
I know there is a bit of OC-ness here, but this is an AU universe. The characters have experienced different things and experiences shape people.
I'll go into more background in the next chapter. A bit about Thom's past and everyone at court, and some more on the Amazons. And, of course, the duel.
Other than that, all I can suggest is that anyone who is interested check out my Queen of the Amazons Mailing List, on yahoo. http/groups.
URL: (http// groups . yahoo . com / group / QotA /)
The group is dedicated to Alanna fan fiction, which I have several links to. Anyone who is interested in it can join. If you do, please look at the links and whatnot, and if you know of a good Alanna fic that isn't listed there, or any sites dedicated to Tortall, the Lioness, etc., please let me know.
Thank you for reading this. I'll reply to reviews directly this time around... And just so you know, it really was the reviews that kept me interested in this story. I was stuck for a while there, and I did need the encouragement to keep working at it until it caught me again.
AN2: Well, finally let me post this. To those of you who had to suffer through the version on the mailing list, I apologize, and I hope you still enjoyed the chapter. I hope everyone else liked it too, and I'll update as soon as I possibly can.
Bye for now!
Jess S
Next Chapter: Secrets of the Lioness