SCARLETS DOMAIN

We set off before dawn, not trusting Karelia with her
watch. I rode behind the two, and the rhythm of the
horse combined with lack of sleep sent me in the
blackest of moods. I watched the forms of Karelia and
Gudrun ahead of me, their bodies moving easily with
their horses. Young, supple, beautiful. They had saved
my life, and were the closest things to friends I had
had since. well in a long while. Why, then, was the
desire to kill so strong? Why did I see myself,
thrusting my blade into Gudrun's trusting back, and
hearing her shocked cry of betrayal and pain? Why did
the thought of Karelia's angry face as she tured to
avenge her friend, thrill me so? And what then? Would
I flick my blade into her belly and watch her die a
horrible undignified death as she scrabbled with her
entrails? Or would I await death at her demented hand?

Gudrun had nobility, but Karelia had beauty. I
admired both of them, and they, for some reason,
admired and loved me. I didn't deserve them as
companions. Not after the things I had done. That was
why I fantasised about their death.

"Hold!" Gudrun held up her hand suddenly, interrupting
my line of thought. "Listen!"

I brought my horse to a halt. Far away I could hear
the screams of dying men and the clash of swords.

I was alert to the realities of war again, my
destructive fantasies forgotten for the time being at
least. We advanced cautiously towards the sounds of
death ahead of us, weapons at the ready.

The battle was old, and the battlefield was strewn
with bodies. From what we could see a band of
marauders were trying to attack a village that stood
some distance away on a hillside, but it seemed that
the men of that village had put up a fiercer
resistance than they had bargained for.

Only a handful now remained, but even as we watched,
that last few remaining defenders were being cut down.

Gudrun, her face flushed, notched an arrow and fired,
and one of the invaders died, her arrow in his back.
Thus, once more, we were dragged into a meaningless,
dishonourable slaughter.

I almost rebelled, for we did not know what we were
attacking and why, but I could not forgo the
opportunity to indulge in what I had been trained for.

The invaders, though on the brink of a hard fought
victory, were tired and surprised by our onslaught.
For them it was the last straw. Not knowing who was
attacking them or why, their spirit broke suddenly,
and those who could escape, ran like rabbits for the
woods. The others died as their blood wetted our
swords.

Around us the stink of death was strong, and the
groans of the dying tore the air. There must have been
around a hundred men, either dead or badly wounded. We
picked our way slowly through the bodies, and I found
myself staring down at one of them.

His eyes seemed to stare back at me defiantly, dead
though they were, and I felt a thrill in the pit of my
stomach as I studied a face whose courage had plainly
held, even in the face of death.

My gaze roved over his finely muscled body, and I knew
that he would have been my match in life. I would
gladly have yielded to his onslaught, opening my
thighs and exposing myself to his mercy, gasping as he
thrust his weapon into me.

Now his penis flopped limply, like a dead swan, and I
felt the desire to caress it back into life, to feel
the firmness of its neck once more.

I shook myself and sought out Karelia and Gudrun, who
had moved on, unmoved by half-naked male corpses that
littered the battlefield. I sneered inwardly. Disdain
for men was the Amazon ideal. Did they really think
the Amazons had anything to offer? Did they believe
that these pathetic women who shunned men could teach
them anything? Most of them had never even seen a man
until they went into battle, and by then it was often
too late.

Amazons practiced for war against each other, and so
where totally unprepared for the nature of the enemy
when they met him. It didn't matter how ferocious you
had been in camp, when faced with the sheer power of
the fully armoured charging male, they simply didn't
know how to deal with him. No, when faced with a man
like my dead warrior, you have to know your enemy, or
he will simply crush you.

I wondered idly if Karelia and Gudrun would have stood
a chance against such men if we had arrived earlier?
Of course they had both known men, yet they seemed to
want to forget by seeking out the Amazons.

Well, they would meet them sooner or later.

In the meantime we headed for the village. A good
hearty meal and a wamr bed seemed very inviting. As we
approached it, we could hear the sound of weeping -
the sound of grievng defenceless women.. It had been a
while since I'd heard that.

I burst into the first hut we came to, and in the
gloom I could see three figures huddled fearfully in
the corner, a woman, it seemed, and her daughters.
Even as they cowered, the expression of the older
woman changed. Incredibly, she ceased to be fearful
and became reproachful.

"Why do you, a woman, bear arms?" she said
disdainfuly. "That is the birthright of men, not
women!"

I would have answered, but suddenly the air was rent
by a scream. I left the hut, sword drawn, to
investigate.

Two peasant girls had set upon Karelia, beating at her
with their fists. Their soft voluptuous forms, clad
only in short split peasant shifts, quivered with
their exertion, unaccustomed to such aggressive
action. Karelia was fending them off with her shield,
and I couldn't help smiling as I walked over to
restrain them. They would have shown her more respect
if they'd seen her in action - but then it appeared
that the women in this village had an odd idea of
respect.

Then it happened.

Karelia was in no real danger, and there was no need
for it, but with horror I saw her draw her sword and,
in a single movement, thrust it into the belly of her
nearest attacker.

The girl yelped, and then fell to the ground, groaning
and clutching her wound, as Karelia, her face
contorted in an evil snarl, twsited her sword, forcing
an agonised cry from the girl before withdrawing it.

"Karelia!" I screamed, breaking into a run, horrified
at her action. "What do you think you're doing!"

I stood in front of her, beside myself with anger.
"Are you such a coward that you have top slaughter an
unarmed woman?

At first Karelia didn't react, then she looked up at
me, and as my eyes met hers I shuddered. This wasn't
the brave warrior I had known. The strange dead fire I
had seen earlier, shone in her eyes.

Slowly, I became aware that a crowd had gathered.
There were some old men and children, but they were
mainly women. Two of them knelt down to tend to the
injured girl, and one of them, who I recognised to be
the mother in the hut, came forward.

"This is what happens, when a woman learns to use
weapons," she sneered. "A man would never have done
this!"

She was right, for a man has a deep instinct to
protect women. Once vanquished, he will enslave them,
but he will guard them as his property, even though he
will use them to gratify his lusts, rather than kill.
A woman has no such scruples, and although I have seen
men take pleasure in killing women for his pleasure
pleasure, the cruelty inflicted on women by other
women knows no bounds.

I had seen the Amazons use unimaginable cruelty on
their female victims. I had seen what they did to my
mother - she who had amdired them and named me after
one of their Queens.
her. But then they were Amazons.

With Karelia, it was different again, for she was not
needlessly cruel. Not unless her soul was rottnig
within her, which was exactly what was happening.

"So what were you going to do?" I answered her, eyeing
Karelia warily, "Wait for the invaders to return to
rape and abuse you?"

"Our men would have defended us!"

"Your men are dead!" I shouted, turning towards her.
"They gave their lives defending your useless hides,
while you cowered in your huts!"

The woman gasped. "It cannot be true!" Her face was
horror stricken.

"It is true," said Gudrun, stepping forward. "They
fought well, but it was not enough. We drove the
remaining marauders away."

At that, she began a high pitched wailing, and started
beating her breasts, several of the other women
joining in.

"Go!" she shouted at us through her tears. "Take what
you need and leave us!"

We went to the storehouse, and helped ourselves to the
provisions we needed, but as we were making final
preparations to leave, three of the women approached
us. Their leader, a tall redhead, came forward.

"Not all of us believe as Alhambra and the others do,"
she said, "and we want to thank you for driving away
the invaders, but there is something we want to ask."

We three looked at each other, and listened.

"Our men are dead and we are defenceless. As you say
the marauders will return, and some of us are tired of
living in fear. Would you help us learn how to defend
ourselves when they return?"

Karelia laughed out loud.

"Fools!" she shouted, flecks of spittle flying from
her mouth. "They would cut you to pieces!"

I stared at her, horrified. She was right, these girls
could not possibly learn how to defend themselves
before the invaders returned, but they deserved a
chance at least.

The redhead took a step back, and glanced at her
comrades for reassurance.

"Best that you lie willingly with them when they
demand you," sneered Karelia.

"Enough!" I stepped in front of Karelia, glaring at
her, facing those dead eyes. She backed away, her
expression showing cruel disdain. I turned back to the
redhead.

"If you want us to help you, you must understand that
Karelia is right. Many of you will die who need not
have done."

The redhead looked at her comrades, then turned back
to me. "Better death than perpetual salvery and
humiliation," she said.

I turned to Gudrun and she nodded, then to Karelia who
glared back at me, but she shrugged and nodded too.

I turned back to the redhead.

"What is your name?" I said.

The girl was momentarily taken aback by my address,
then she collected herself.

"My name is Xanthe," she said, a new confidence rising
in her., "and this." she turned to the diminutive
brunette on her right, "is Alethaea."

Alethea bowed.

"This," she turned to the other girl, brunette too,
but with a heavier build, "is Clonie."

Clonie, too bowed, and I acknowledged them. "Gudrun
from Germania, and Karelia from Britannia," I said
indicating my comrades. "and I am Antiope of Scythia.
How many feel as you do, Xanthe?"

"There are at least twenty of us, but I haven't asked
everyone in the village." she shruuged. "say thirty to
forty."

"I will not count on more than twenty," I said. "Many
will drop out when they realise what this means to
them."

I apprasied Xanthe a I spoke. She was tall and
well-muscled, but her eyes remained innocent. She had
not seen death, and I knew that before long, those
eyes of hers would lose that innocnce and her face
would harden. For an instant I pictured her screaming,
in agony, a spear thrust through her belly. For that
instant a secret, sick smile played on my lips. I
hated myself for that. She needed our help, and had
done us no harm, yet I knew that in agreeing to help
them, I was probably sealing their death warrants, and
that thought yielded a dark pleasure.

"You and your girls have one task to perform first."

"What is it, er.. mistress... captain? We are prepared
to do anything."

"The day is old and we all need our rest, but tomorrow
you must bury your dead. Make sure you retrieve as
many weapons as you can, as well as whatever armour
they and the enemy have. You will need both. We will
meet you, and whoever is willing to join you, in the
centre of the village at sundown tomorrow, and then we
will begin your training."

Xanthe nodded, and the three girls turned to leave.

"A moment!"

They turned back.

"You will be lucky to survive any attack, even with
our training. Are you quite sure this is what you
want?"

"YES!" they said in fierce unison and without
hesitation.

"Then I salute you, warriors!"

Their faces lit up at my words and they left, heads
held high.

Will continue in chapter 9...