BlueTopaz: The Early Years

Chapter 10

"The End of the Beginning"

It’s been almost a year since I’ve been able to write further on this. After Chancellor Nanaea chose me as one of her assistants, my spare time dropped to almost nothing. Then of course there was The CAP and suddenly I found myself not a Chancellor’s Assistant but a full Chancellor with all the duties and *g* privileges that title brings with it.

Scribia , homesick for amazon life and perhaps, despairing that I would ever finish this tome she so desires, finally left for home sometime during the late summer while I was away on one of Moira’s little errands. Shamefully, I must admit that it was several days after my return that I even thought to ask about her.

I’ve been very preoccupied with the reorganization of Deb U and the revitalization of our courses of study. I’ve been rewarded by seeing many new students come to study with us and most surprisingly many of the older students who had been inactive returning to finish their studies also.

Things seem to be moving smoothly right now so maybe I can take a little time to put down a few thoughts to send to my old friend. So, on with the long promised next chapter.........

*

We had won the battle! I still could not quite believe it! A ragtag group of soldiers, farmers, townspeople, and amazons had routed the mighty Prophet’s army. Well, all right, the remnants of his army, but it was still a singularly momentous event, for us anyway.

Our victory did not come with out cost, though. There were so many unnamed farmers and shop keepers, soldiers and amazons. They’d all ridden out bravely two days before but now they would never return to family and friends.

Pallus’ father Battus, that great giant of a man, fell defending the infirmary Lady Cidia had set up to the north of the pass. When the avalanche of rocks had been set loose to seal the pass several of the Prophet's vanguard had all ready exited the north end. Battus, Rudd and several of the older men had been left with Lady Cidia and the other women as guards but I really hadn’t expected them to be attacked.

And Sorcus, the fleet-footed and keen-eyed, died in the pass itself. He never had mastered the long bow and had, with a few others, opted to use a cross bow. This placed them very close to the road way and when those of the Prophet’s army within the pass realized they were trapped they, even as they were dying, sought to take as many of our defenders with them as possible.

Charis had followed Alcmene from the heights to her father’s chariot and so did not see her husband fall, with the lance of a dying soldier of the Prophet, through his heart. When the word of his death reached her she silently turned and with one swing, broke her bow across a nearby boulder and then walked through the now cleared pass to assist Lady Cidia with the wounded. I do not think she ever used a weapon again.

The chariot cohort took heavy casualties. Enraged by the death of their king, they plunged into the battle discarding training and even common sense in their headlong charge to extract revenge. Perhaps, had they been more disciplined, other units in our force would not have taken so many casualties. Truly, to this day I don’t know.

The Amazons had there share of sisters to morn, also. Among the seriously wounded was Khayla, May’s beautiful daughter. Riding at her mother’s back as the fatal blow was struck to the Prophet, Khayla received a glancing sword blow to the face. From brow to chin the left side her face was laid open. The Amazon healers were able to save her life but not her left eye and she would carry the jagged scar for the rest of her days.

The blow I had received to my right arm had broken a bone just above my wrist. It was a clean break and a splint and sling were all that was needed. Mine was the least of the injuries and had I possessed an extra hand at the time, I could have taken care of it myself.

It was two days before some of the more seriously injured could travel, and then two more days on the road home. No place has ever looked so good to me, as that farmstead sitting on the hill. Wearily, we turned in the lane leading up to the gates.

Alcmene, beginning to show her practical side had, as soon as we reached the safety of the stronghold, begun to rethink her rash challenge to Amphytrion. She’d lost her father, had her young half-brother to care for and had sent her husband and protector off on an impossible mission to kill every last follower of the Prophet where ever they might be. She begged me to send someone after Amphytrion and bring him back to her. Her uncle, Stenelus, had been left as regent of her father’s kingdoms and, as she confided in me, he was very unlikely to return them to the young heir. At least he wouldn’t be likely to with out some sort of threat of force from a proven war leader such as Amphytrion.

By now anyone reading this knows where this is leading. You’ve all heard the stories of Hercules’ conception and birth. Yes, they are true, up to a point. Zeus, that old scoundrel, did have his eye on Alcmene. And yes, he did disguise himself and come to her as Amphytrion. It was at Lady Cidia’s estate that this happened though, not some king’s court far away.

Amphytrion returned late the next day and was quite puzzled that we had sent for him and, equally puzzled that when he arrived no one made a fuss over the fact that he had returned. The reason was, of course, that many of us had seen “him” the night before and even spoken with him. The news he brought was what we had feared. Stenelus was not about to give up the rule of the two city states to a young boy and with our forces so depleted by the battle we were in no position to make demands or threats.

We all settled in at the estate as the summer and then the autumn passed. As winter tightened its grip on the countryside and Alcmene’s girth expanded it was rather obvious that there would be another heir to the southern city states to further muddy the waters.

Amphytrion proved to be extremely single minded in his quest to rid the world of Prophet followers. Any rumor reaching him of their activity would send him off with what remained of his troops to hunt them down. At first, many of us accompanied him on these mad dashes about the countryside but it soon became clear that what he was chasing was no more than a few ragged bands of raiders gone back to the occupation they had practiced long before joining with the Prophet. Local officials were usually quite able to take care of the small problems they created.


Throughout the winter the main topic of discussion centered on speculation about how our victory would effect events to the north. We all were aware of the second army which still maintained a siege around Hallstatt and the salt mines. Before trade could again freely pass between the countries to the north and Greece, that siege would have to be broken. I began to send messages to leaders of small northern groups who resisted the Prophets’ teachings. As spring approached, messages with offers of alliance and cooperation began to arrive.


Other arrivals came in the spring, too!

Alcmene delivered twin boys. The first born, Hercules and the second born, Iphicles. The legends surrounding the boys' birth are many and for the most part wildly inaccurate. Since I was there with her I’ll try to set the record straight.


Alcmene had not had a easy pregnancy and towards the end she had to spend a good deal of time in bed. When her labor began it was almost as it the babies were fighting to see which would be born first. It was a long and difficult night. After all, there were two of them! They were big babies and Alcmene was a small woman. Some of the stories you’ve heard whispered about center on Hera delaying the birth. I don’t know about that except that I was there and I never saw Hera. And, I certainly never saw Eileithyia, Hera’s daughter, and goddess of childbirth sitting in the hall with her arms, legs, fingers and toes crossed! But I suppose that doesn’t mean that she wasn’t there. I’m not one of the few humans who can see the gods when they wish not to be seen.

Hera was involved there is little doubt of that. Her hatred for, and persecution of Alcmene and Hercules followed them through their whole lives and in many ways molded their personalities. Hera didn’t dare to confront Zeus and so instead took her anger out on the innocent bystanders, Alcmene and Hercules. This is one thing I’ve never quite forgiven Zeus. He always said he had reasons for not interfering with Hera’s vengeance but I do question to this day just how valid those reasons were.

Where was I? Oh yes, the birth. We’d all, Lady Cidia, Panchus, Charis, Phyone and I, been taking turns sitting with Alcmene. She seemed comforted by having someone with her so we indulged her by sitting in the room reading or in my case, I passed some of the time cleaning and mending armor. She wasn’t too happy about the oily smell but I’d already gone through most of the estate library and I’m not a person to sit and make idle conversation so I had to find something to keep my hands busy during those long hours. Anyway, we did talk some as I was working and I guess that’s where our friendship really began.

One afternoon she was sitting propped up with a dozen or so pillows when she leaned forward, and arched her back to take some of the strain off her abdominal muscles and stretched her hands over her head. This was one of her signals that she wanted to talk so I laid down the armor piece I was working on and looked up.

“Blue,” she said, showing off those famous dimples and those eyes with the irresistible twinkle, “What are we going to do about Charis?”

“She’s lost her husband, Alcmene!” I don’t think there’s anything we can do about that. She’s grieving and it’s going to take time for her to get over it.”

“You don’t know, do you?” She replied, pleased to have some bit of news that hadn’t reached me first..

“Know what?”

“What she’s gone and done.” Alcmene almost crowed. “She moved in with The Smith!”

“What are you talking about? The Smith is an old man she wouldn’t...”

“Oh yes she would and she did! She told me, herself!”

“Okay, what’s the story?” I asked intrigued by the possibilities, in spite of myself.

“Right after we got back from the battle he asked and she said yes.”

“Did she give you a reason?”

“Just that the baby needed a father and The Smith was available and willing.”

“Sheesh,” I swore, “She’s still operating under the theory that no decent man would take up with a harlot! That’s why she held back from Sorcus for so long. Now she’s taking the first offer that comes along. I will have to have a long talk with her!” I started to get up, but Alcmene, put out a restraining hand.

“Leave it be, Blue.” she said softly. “A marriage like that is better than her being on her own. Besides, The Smith is a gentle, kind man. He’ll care for her and the baby. That’s what she needs now, to be cared for.”

Poor little Alcmene, she was talking as much about herself as she was Charis. With Amphytiron running about the countryside, her father dead and a baby coming she must have been feeling very alone at that time. “All right, I agreed, I’ll not say anything to her, at least not right now.” I got up then to get her a glass of water. She always seemed to be thirsty. I supposed it had something to do with being pregnant. “Eww,” I said, touching the water pitcher, “It’s gotten warm again. I’ll get you some fresh from the well.”

“Thank you,” she replied, “I think I’ll take a little rest while you’re gone.”

There were several wells which provided water for the compound but the one usually used for the main house was located in a small stone storage shed just off the kitchen area. The stone work kept the small room cool and the water from the well was always a few degrees cooler than that from the other wells.

Entering the well house, Lucky gave a warning bark and I was surprised to see a strange man sitting on the stone wall that surrounded the well. I sat the pitcher, one of Lady Cidia’s good ones, down carefully on the floor and then, hands on hips, I said. “Who are you and what are you doing here? I am armed and I warn you not to try to escape or put up a fight.”

“But, I’m here to speak to you my dear,” he said as he raised his arms slightly and extended his hands palms up to show he wasn’t armed. “I suppose you don’t recognize me. The statue makers just don’t do me justice.” He add with a rather charming lopsided smile.

“Who are you?” I repeated, intrigued by this mystery man who had appeared so unexpectedly.

“Zeus, King of the gods, at your service.” He replied, rising from his seated position and making a flourishing bow.

“Oh right, and I’m Artemis, queen of the hunt.” I replied scornfully.

“I certainly hope not! I’m already half way in love with you and if you turned out to be my daughter, I’d be most disappointed. But, I must restrain myself, winning your heart is not the reason I am here. I must speak to that dear child Alcmene.”

“That dear child,” I said, as evenly as possible, “Is upstairs right now awaiting the birth of her child. Your child, if I’m not mistaken. Leave her alone! Haven’t you done enough?” That did it, he’d made me lose my temper but he deserved it.

“Exactly,” he replied with a sort of sad little smile. “That is why I must talk with her. There are things she must know!”

“No!” I repeated, “You’ll have to go through me to get to her!” Whee, talk about your youthful nerve. I wonder if I even considered that he could squash me like a bug, if he so chose?

“You leave me no choice,” he sighed, and then looking up a little, called out a name. “Moira! Come talk some sense into this stubborn child of yours!”

I stood open mouthed, as the familiar white mist spun itself into the body of a small child and the personage I had always known as White Lady stood before us. What did the goddess of Destiny and the Ruler of the Fates have to do with all of this?