The outer hall remained silent as the assembled group awaited their leader’s signal to begin the morning’s donning. The woman stood for moments waiting and renewing her appraisal of her personal entourage; mentally ranking those by look and what she knew of each. With a raise of her arms and a quick commanding order the assemblage moved forward towards their leader. The thick muscled elite warriors took position around her first. Like all classes of Shikhatta amazon warriors they followed their leader in shaving the head and leaving a tail of hair in the back that would be braided and bound by crimson stained leather. A similarly colored band clung to their head with three small carved ivory horns denoting their elite status. Thick leather armor covered the shoulder and collarbone. A thick belt hung at their waist with attached armor flaps protecting the more sensitive regions of the groin and buttocks and keeping the outer edge of the legs open. Attached to each were three long curved ivory horns in raised phallic inference. Hairless nude slave women moved forward holding silken bejeweled offerings for their queen’s choice and outfitting. Each was watched scrupulously by the personal guard as they approached to insure no attempt was made on their Priestess Queen’s life. Her advisors and generals stood outermost of the ring awaiting their summons wearing a mixture of animal pelts, silken cloth robes and jewelry.

With an imperious voice she began the discussion for the morning giving half an eye to the expensively jeweled armband in deference to the large breasted and leggy slave presenting it.

"Is it my understanding, ladies of the Holy Assembly, that we have visitors demanding our divine presence. Have any of you any inkling as to their reason for such a demand upon my time?"

The assembly hesitated responding as they noted the underlying tone of displeasure in their leader's voice and recollected the fate of the last unfortunate woman who voiced their thoughts to the queen. Advisors nervously looked to each other in hopes their looks would prompt another to answer her. Then a warrior woman in her late thirties stepped forward to speak, her eyes cast towards the floor. The headband the woman wore held five ivory horns denoting her status as the leader of the fighting forces of the city-state. The mature, athletic build of the woman would be handsome if not for the thin scars running across her abdomen and up her lower jaw. As it was the features only made her look more sinister in appearance with her steel blue eyes. Her voice was smooth and low as she spoke.

"Yes Immortal and Blessed Queen, ambassadors from the neighboring city states of Ahmyrran and Nearinth as well as the Sub-Chieftain of the Rojures Clan are here to speak to you concerning raids upon their borders. They contend a small group of our warriors have made raids upon several villages under their protection and have made off with men, supplies, warriors, and slaves. In the interests of peace they seek punishment of these women and restitution for these raids for the "warlike actions of her holiness’s followers".

The chamber was silent for a moment as the temporal and spiritual leader of the city-state of Shikhatta considered the words of her War Leader. Then an evil mischief danced in her eyes as she bid the speaker with a gesture to approach and looks upon her queen and priestess.

I believe War Leader Darluna, you will find the offenders of these peoples subjects below within the courtyard, and their commander ready to receive new orders to the glory of our ever hungering goddess Bahrakain and her faithful. I, as her immortal messenger instruct you to position them near the entrances of the eastern courtyard of our palace, hidden from view. Make sure they know to remain concealed until these "ambassadors" enter. Upon my signal they are to enter and slay these presumptuous bitches to the last. None are to escape for it is my will we expand our influence and bring her word to our neighbors. When you are finished with this task gather your troops and make for war.

Darluna frowned. "But Holy One, such preparations may take weeks to complete and will alert our neighbors to our intentions. Weapons must be wrought, leaders chosen among the hosts, and scouting parties sent into their territories to learn of their defenses."

Her leader's eyes flinched at the questioning of her wisdom and the War Leader knew she would need to tread carefully or find herself impaled outside the city’s temple. Ithokura responded as though speaking to a child as she ran her fingers playfully across the scars of her war leader. "Nonsense, my faithful war mare, preparations were begun some months ago by my priestess’s in secret. Weapons were obtained by our friends in the east or forged in hidden caverns. Our "raiders" served as a distraction for the scouting parties that followed and even now return with reports on the strengths and weaknesses of our rivals. A priestess awaits outside with details for you to ponder and improve upon in the strategies of our fighting forces.

Ithokura turned to the rest of the group with a satisfied smile and a flourish bedecked in light robes and delicate jewelry. "Let us now see to it our guests from abroad are well taken care of. I believe I am already late for our sacrifice to she whom we serve"; she said laughing at her own clever witticism."

…..

Garluatha, Sub chieftain of the Clans of Rojures walked besides Fawnyae, her advisor, with a scowl of discontentment, which made the tall, and robust amazon look imposing. To the casual eye she seemed a large muscular woman more prone to violence than negotiation with a meaty frame and hard lined face topped by cascading red hair that hung down to her chest and shoulders. She wore an open armed plaid shirt vest which hinted at full rounded cleavage underneath with a long skirt of the same material with slits along the sides that hung down to just below her knees. Leather strips tied firmly to her calf supported her boiled leather sandals. She carried with her a thick stone baton symbolizing the trust of her Chieftain in any business pertaining to the clans’ welfare. It was a trust well founded by past actions of the amazon for she was more than a simple woman with an impressive demeanor. Few outside her clan knew that she had traveled to the far city of Edicaer and spent eight seasons learning from the finest philosophers, tacticians, and scholars of that esteemed center of learning.

Her companion Fawnyae was similarly garbed and outfitted. Her body however, was shorter and hinted at a lithe muscled look. Her hair, while red, was not the crimson fire that Garluatha possessed and was cut short to the base of the neck. Her wide freckled face held that quizzical look that gave most the false impression of lacking wit but instead hid an intellect gained as a former slave to a scholar from a distant land.

"I have a strong feeling this meet will not go well this day"; the larger woman commented quietly as they followed the curvaceous Shikhatta elite warrior escorting them to her queen.

"Perhaps you are overreacting Garluatha"; whispered her companion. "It is true that rumor portrays the Shikhatta to be devious she devils but I doubt they would risk war without any sort of preparation. We saw no sign of mass forges preparing weapons nor of warriors gathering at their temples."

. "Perhaps you are right, my friend. But our escort’s confidence seems ill placed for a first meet with her queen. I am sure their leader is going to refuse our request."

Her advisor sighed; "After making us wait these many days I was hoping they would finally accept our request. I guess they have some sort of counter proposal ready."

They traveled on without further comment into the inner halls of the massive citadel that held the leader of the city-state of Shikhatta; passing mohawk-haired priestesses and small groups of elite warriors escorting naked chained males to parts unknown. Finally they reached a long wide hall with carved golden double doors depicting naked women doing battle before a colossal woman. Their guide moved towards the leftmost door and pulled it open.

"My queen awaits within to address your complaints." she said with a smile and a bow.

The two walked past the warrior without comment and walked down a passage roughly five meters in length to an open archway which lead into a small open aired arena that would fit a few more than fifty. There were already four other women seated in its center with two seats bare of occupants. Each was dressed in their finest clothing adorned in the symbols of their status within their own city-states. Each seemed uncomfortable as they turned towards the last entries. Forgetting their discomfort for the moment the four looked upon the two with disdain and loathing at sharing a place with these representatives of a less than civilized nomadic peoples. The two representatives of the clans of Rojures moved to sit at the open seats and ignored the contemptuous looks from the others. A glimpse to the upper gallery revealed the Shikhatta leader and her entourage entering a boxed section of the arena reserved by custom for nobility.

The insult was bare for all but the densest of people. The queen had positioned herself to dictate to those within the pit. There would be no discussion or even attempt to reach a mutually respectful understanding. The four women stood and openly protested this treatment for moments while Garluatha and Fawnyae silently took in their surroundings with worried thoughts.

The entourage sat as their queen remained standing looking down upon those that had come beseeching a peaceful resolution. A confidant, serene smile followed by a whimsical tilt of the head indicated some pleasurable thought as she nodded at each comment made by the protesting ambassadors. The look was unsettling and soon quelled the complaints of the women as they finally sat down after their attempts to protest this treatment and attempts at peace.

"Great ladies of the City States of Ahmyrran and Nearinth and the clans of Rojures I bid you welcome on this historic meeting."; she began with smooth rolling tones. "My advisors have told me of your concerns and your wish for the punishment of the ones responsible for these dastardly, unprovoked strikes upon your peoples. The days of your patience and fortitude have allowed us the opportunity to discover those responsible for these raids and bring them here for you to bear witness to their fate. I sanctify this meet and their fates before you in the name of our eternally hungering goddess Bahakraine, whose words your people have yet to hear."

She nodded to an advisor who stepped next to a brass gong and struck it with a mallet twice. The two entrance doors on the ground floor opened and a group of six Shikhatta warriors stepped through each with teeth bared in a snarl and weapons at the ready.

Garluatha stood and moved to put her back to Fawnyae who had done the same. Both redheads looked at their adversaries with experienced eye. Their chieftain had suspected some sort of evil at work and had sent two battle hardened women instead of the politic skilled members that made up the remainder of the envoy.

"Any ideas how we are going to get out of this alive? We're outnumbered."; said Fawnyae nervously.

"Do your best and take as many with you is the first thing that comes to mind.

And the second thing?

We have to get to one of the openings and run like hell!

That is what I like about you Garluatha, your intricate planning.

Kiss my arse, woman she replied in bravado as four Shikhatta from each group charged forward with scimitars raised and an inarticulate cry.

The crimson hair giantess concentrated on her adversaries; ignoring the sounds of fighting and the screams of protest from two of the ambassadors. Two Shikhatta faced each member of the ambassadorial group with spear and scimitar.. Her foes were a slim girl in her late teens with supple curves and an older woman in her mid thirties with sloped breasts and wide hips. The two feinted and moved smoothly as a team; testing the redheads skill and resolve. The older one used her javelin to keep the warrior at arm length while the young one slashed with her scimitar at their large opponent. Garluatha found herself dodging more blows than she would have liked; keeping on the defensive.

"Damn, their good"; She said to Fawnyae without loosing sight of her opponents positions.

"Yes, and the odds seems to be in their favor. We better do something quick or prepare to join our ancestors in the beyond."

Garluatha grunted in acknowledgement and moved towards the younger warrior woman as she was pulling back from a failed stroke. The older woman thrust forward with her spear to support her partner’s withdrawal. The redhead twisted her body to avoid the deadly point as it missed from driving into her stomach. She reached out and managed to grasp the girl by the back of the bare neck and pull her in closer. The girl bent forward and began to crouch in an attempt to slip her adversary’s grasp counting on her oiled body to succeed. Garluatha saw her opening and brought her baton down on the girls exposed back with as much strength as she could muster. A dull crutch was her reward as the weapon struck the back of the neck and drove the body to the floor on its knees unconscious and bleeding from the blow.

The second warrior renewed her attack with a thrust that left a small slash across Garluatha’s lower left ribs. It was followed by a second thrust deflected by an upswing of her baton. The crimson hair amazon crouched low and pulled the shield off the warrior girl’s unconscious form. Unfamiliar with a scimitar, she left the weapon on the floor and backed away towards Fawnyae who was dealing with her second combatant, a heavyset warrior woman with bouncing dewdrop breasts bearing a scimitar. The first lay on the floor on her side in a fetal position with a broken javelin through her belly; moaning as her blood pooled.

Garluatha’s opponent did not press her advantage. She instead took a moment to regain her breath, gulping in great droughts of air as she checked her surroundings, and then smiled and leered at her. Movement to her left indicated the approach of another Shikhatta warrior holding javelin and shield with broad, muscled shoulders, pert breasts, large hips and thighs. Sprinkled on the body were speckles of blood from her previous kills. A tall and lanky third warrior with bruised and swollen jaw, eye, and stomach paced carefully to the right holding similar weapons.

"You and your friend are going to die, kunt"; her original opponent spat with a venomous expression and charged forward. The woman lunged with her spear as Garluatha twisted to avoid its point. But the Shikhatta managed to lightly slash against her shoulder and rip most of the leather shirt open along the shoulder. The red hair woman swung her baton again and struck the side of her opponents knee solidly with numbing force; forcing the woman to land on her side and let go her javelin, which clattered and rolled to Garluatha’s feet.

She crouched low and picked up the pole arm as the bruised woman moved forward carefully and feinted a thrust intending to follow with a true strike. Garluatha’s experience allowed her to discern the maneuver and used her shield to bat the javelin away and thrust her weapon point into the armored portion of her opponent’s lower abdomen. The woman gasped in shock but managed to stagger away as the red headed amazon withdrew her weapon. Dark red blood dribbled down her leg as she moved. The wound was serious but not incapacitating.

The one speckled in blood stood back assessing her opponent as her bruised comrade regained her composure and readied to fight with grim face determination. The red head took the opportunity to quickly analyze her own predicament and realized the odds were greater against her and her companion as time passed. The original eight Shikhatta had been effectively whittled down to four and more stood beyond the two entrances to the pit ready to take their place. Their four possible allies lie sprawled across the floor dead as they possessed little more than a knife with which to defend themselves.

We need something smart or lucky to get us out of here Fawnyae. Tell me you have such a thing in mind.

"What?!" huffed her companion. "I was hoping YOU would have something by now, dear. This bald smelly bitch has me occupied keeping my innards from her scimitar!

Garluatha huffed in exasperation as the gut wounded and bruised girl renewed her attack with the one covered in splattered blood. Both thrust their javelins toward her, forcing her back away from Fawnyae and exposing her friend to the dangers of an unprotected back. Realizing this, she moved forward to close that vulnerable area. However, arms then clung to her thick calves as her momentarily forgotten third foe who had earlier dropped her javelin moved to root her to the spot to give her fellow warriors the opening they needed. The giantess realized it in time and bellowed a warning to her comrade. The smaller member of the Rojures clans blocked her scimitar wielding adversary’s strike and moved to restore the gap created by the repositioning of her companion before they moved.

The large red head turned her attention to her half naked anchor holding her and shifted the hold of her weapon to drive it down overhand through the woman’s back with as much force as she could muster. The woman let out a wail and grimaced in agony as the javelin pierced her lung. The hold was released as her adversary slid loosely off her leg to quietly and slowly die face down before her slayer as blood and bile gradually filled her lung.

The women of the clans of Rojures were now set with their backs to the wall of the open area with little chance to reach the two entrances as the remainder of the large unit of Shikhatta, advanced. Garluatha snapped her javelin in half to shorten its length and make it more manageable in closer quarters as she held the spear tipped end two handed. The bruised warrior moved forward with a lusty cry for another chance to slay her enemy. The red head blocked the blow intending to end their deadly dance with a thrust. But a lithe newcomer attempted to slash at her with her scimitar and turned the thrust into a slash that cut into the yielding mound of the Shikhatta’s right breast. The bruised one dropped her guard in deference to the pain and attempted to pull back again, but the warrior of Rojures pressed her advantage and drove the point deep into the belly. Her attacker collapsed from the blow and weakly writhed on the ground in pain as crimson lifeblood pooled about the body.

The grouped warriors pulled back a few feet assumedly to provide more room for those wielding javelins and the two women of the clans of Rojures, sensing a turn of fortune, advanced with feral cries. They did not perceive the woman from the upper gallery leaping down from the seating area above and behind them. Garluatha was withdrawing her weapon from the throat of the lithe warrior quietly choking on her own blood when a solid wood club landed solidly on the back of her head. Her companion turned to check on the large redhead after a few moments and managed to see the end swing of Ithokura’s club on her before pain and darkness over whelmed her.

Ithokura looked about her and the unit as one fell to their knees in supplication to their leader. Her face was full of anger and disappointment. Her elite warriors pushed past the warriors at the entrance and quickly took protective positions. The arena was silent except for the soft groans of the dying.

"Where is she that is your unit leader?; said Ithokura with no hint of mercy.

A thick neck woman with a small bosom and large ass stood up looking to the floor visibly shuddering in fear. The priestess queen raised her arm. Pointing to the warrior she turned to one of her elite.

"Remove this woman from my site and see to it she is slowly tortured before the assembled faithful outside the temple as an example to those who do not adequately train the warriors under their command. These were but ambassadors who should not have taken as many lives as your unit has lost."

One of the elite moved forward and on bent knee spoke.

Holy one, what of these two? Do you still wish them dead?

Ithokura stood over Garluatha’s unconscious form and jerked on the leather shirt of her unconscious foe. The tension ripped the garment open exposing the mammoth mounds and upper torso of the large amazon.

She smiled a wicked smile and said; "No, I have something better in mind."

END (for now)