Green Eyes

Jared stood like a statue on top of one of the platforms overlooking the Amazonian camp. His arms were cross and the hood of his black cloak was up, again concealing his face, not that it mattered. Had anyone seen his face, all they would’ve seen was an impassive expression that revealed nothing of his thoughts while his cobalt eyes studied the women training below.

“Still angry?” Mara questioned as she came up to her brother.

She was wearing a beige tunic that reached halfway down her shins. It was similar to the long tunic that Jared wore, except it had only two slits up to her hips instead of Jared’s four and was tighter around the bosom. The black pants Mara wore underneath were tighter too; pragmatic as Kalashonians were, they weren’t without some sense of vanity. Like Jared she also had a black cloak wrapped around her and like her brother, the hood was drawn up overshadowing her face.

“Not really,” Jared answered her query. “I get why you did it and it was the right move. I just don’t like being used as a pawn.”

“That makes two of us,” concurred Mara. “But I didn’t have much of a choice. If I didn’t, they were going to sell you off as a slave.”

“Like that would’ve lasted,” Jared snorted.

“Or they might have figured out how much you are worth and delivered you to the nearest Kalashonian outpost,” Mara added. “That would have lasted.”

“I doubt Micaela would’ve handed me over,” Jared said.

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Mara shook her head. “She really hates men.”

“It’s kind of an Amazonian prerequisite,” Jared pointed out.

“True,” Mara agreed. “Either way, as a man you were nothing more than a bargaining chip. Kind of hypocritical really: the reason she hates men is that they use women like cattle yet she quite willingly uses men the same way. Besides, we could use the help getting through the Harosheth and this guaranteed you safe passage.”

“Safe from the Amazons?” Jared looked at her curiously. “Did you not see the so-called ‘fight’?”

“I did,” Mara nodded. “I also remember them taking us out before we knew they were there. Had those been arrows instead of anesthetic darts…” She didn’t need to finish that thought.

“Point taken,” Jared acknowledged. “Did you secure their aid then?”

“Technically you did,” Mara replied with a sly smirk. “But yes. She gave an Esthorian promise to grant us her hospitality as long as it is required if you won, which you did. Handily.”

“Good,” Jared turned his attention back to the sparring women below. Some used wooden swords, other’s tried with staves, while others with knives.

“There’s potential down there,” Mara observed.

“Untapped potential, yes,” Jared nodded his agreement. “But it is not our concern. Our concern is getting Selene to Jerel as soon as possible.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Mara sighed. “I would still like to help. These are good people here, Jared.”

“They want to kill me,” the mercenary pointed out flatly.

“It’s understandable given their history,” Mara countered. “I was walking through the camp, listening to some of the stories. These women have suffered a lot from men, a lot. Micaela’s taken them in and given them a chance at life. She’s done a lot of good.”

“Perhaps,” Jared allowed coldly. “That doesn’t justify what they’ve done to men. Do you think I’m the only one who’s suffered at their hands?”

“I would hardly call what you went through suffering,” Mara gave him a hard look. “But I see your point. That’s the thing though Jared; these women have had their lives torn apart and Micaela has put them back together. She’s given them a home, a family, the ability to defend themselves and make their own way in the world without having to rely on anyone. Sound familiar?”

“Yeah,” Jared concurred.

“We can help them take the next step,” Mara continued. “We can show them that men and women are equals, parts of the same whole and not enemies. Their sexist attitude is what is holding them back. It limits them, only letting them reach half of their potential. We can help them let go of that hatred.”

“I’m not sure we’re the right people to teach letting go of hatred,” Jared commented.

“Perhaps not,” Mara acknowledged. “But we are the perfect people to teach them the true meaning of equality.”

Jared didn’t answer; instead he looked back down at the training ring where he had humiliated Micaela a couple hours earlier. A couple of weeks ago he wouldn’t have even considered it. A month ago he might have massacred the whole lot of them. But now…

“Selene’s been rubbing off on you,” he observed.

“Not just me; you didn’t kill Micaela,” Mara returned.

“True,” Jared allowed. “What if we’re wrong about them? We could end up in very deep trouble.”

“A certain innkeeper taught us that some people in this world are worth taking a chance on,” Mara reminded. “I think Micaela is another one worth taking a chance on. The Micaela I knew certainly was.”

“Is she the same Micaela?” Jared wondered. “We hardly are the same people as then.”

“I think so,” Mara said. “She may have buried who she is under years of anger and hate, but I believe that the same kind-hearted Esthorian princess we knew all those years ago is still there. If she wasn’t, why would she have done all this?” Mara gestured around the camp.

Jared sighed deeply. He did want to help. He was curious to see if Jael was an aberration or if there really were good people in the world. A big part of him fervently hoped so. But they did have their mission too.

“I’ll think about it,” he told his sister. “If the opportunity arises, well, we’ll see.”

“That’s all I ask,” Mara gave his arm a squeeze.

“Excuse me,” a proud female voice interrupted their conversation. Jared and Mara turned to see Emmanuelle, Micaela’s Anorian lieutenant, standing there.

“Lady Sar—Micaela invites you to join her for dinner,” she corrected. Jared’s revelation had caused quite a stir and confusion as the Amazons tried to wrap their mind around the fact that their leader for more than a decade was really the lost Esthorian princess.

“Thank you,” Jared pointedly answered for the twins. He was still very annoyed at being forced into a pointless battle of the sexes and didn’t resist goading his hosts. It brought an internal smile when he saw Emmanuelle bristle. “Lead the way,” he gestured with his arm.

“If you’ll follow me,” Emmanuelle stiffly invited.

The twins followed Emmanuelle up a rope ladder to another platform across the wooden deck and then up another ladder to a third level. She left them on an open air platform where there was a rich red table cloth on which several plates of food where laid out. Selene was sitting on a pillow, talking politely with Micaela whose arm was in a sling. On each corner of the platform stood a woman armed with a spear and a form-fitting chrome breastplate.

Jared wondered if the guards would’ve been there had he not been. Probably not, he decided, Micaela would trust her “sisters,” a trust he knew would not be extended to him. It was foolish to be so discriminatory but humanity and intelligence rarely went together, even in the wise Esthorians.

Micaela and Selene looked up as they came up to them. Selene’s green eyes smiled as her friends entered, clearly glad to see that Jared was okay. For the first time in recent memory, Selene was the one person Jared wasn’t annoyed with.

But he largely ignored her, instead focusing his attention on Micaela. The Esthorian’s face was stone cold as she regarded Jared. Selene had learned to read people a bit over the last month-plus and could tell that Micaela was trying to conceal her disdain for the mercenary. Trying and failing.

“Where I come from, it is rude for guests to not show their faces at dinner,” she evenly informed.

“But we’re not in your country, are we?” Jared returned cold amusement in his voice. “In fact, if my geography is correct, we’re in my country.”

“I have spared you from slavery and death and, against my better judgment, am extending to you my hospitality,” Micaela bristled at Jared’s prod. “The least you could do is respect my customs at my table.”

“As you wish,” Jared shrugged.

As Jared and Mara moved to sit down, Selene noticed something interesting in Micaela. When they removed their hoods and the Amazonian got her first good look at their faces, her face flashed with recognition and then astonishment. Quickly she reestablished her stoic veneer before either twin noticed. But Selene found that interesting. Why would an Esthorian princess recognize them?

“By the way, how’s your arm?” Jared goaded with a hint of a sneer.

“It’s fine,” Micaela ground out as her amethyst eyes narrowed.

“As I’m certain you know, Selene is a Navi,” Jared continued to prod. “She could heal your arm for you. A few seconds and she’d have it as good as new, right Selene?”

“Yes, if you would like,” Selene answered tightly, herself bristling a little as Jared brought her unwillingly into this little war he and Micaela were waging.

“No thank you,” Micaela snapped more at Jared than Selene. “My arm can heal fine on its own,” she added taking a deep breath. “By the way, did you know that Beth Haven was burned to the ground?”

“Oh?” It was Jared’s turn to be put on the defensive.

“Yes,” the Esthorian continued. “I figured since you’d come from that way, you might know. At any rate, my sources tell me that the Kalashonian Viceroy, Brutus I believe his name is, came to Beth Haven looking for some fugitives who had been hiding there. He threatened to destroy the town if they weren’t produced and of course they weren’t, so he burned the city to the ground, killing 7000 people. Such a sad waste of life, don’t you agree Jared?” she shook her head in mock sadness before turning a subtly smug look on the mercenary.

Jared’s jaw visibly tensed at the veiled accusation. “It is,” he agreed flatly.

“To think it all could’ve been avoided had they turned themselves in,” Micaela observed sadly. “As it turns out, they had been staying in the inn of a woman named Jael. Apparently when the fugitives made their escape, instead of taking the woman who had been sheltering and protecting them along, they offered her up to the Viceroy like a sacrificial lamb so they could get away. She was brutally killed of course, leaving a small child orphaned. But the fugitives got away, fucking cowards. To send a woman to that kind of fate just to save their own hides,” she dramatically shook her head in disgust.

“Do you want me to break your other arm?” Jared hissed.

“Ohh, stinging retort,” mocked Micaela with a triumphant smile. “Does the truth hurt, coward?”

“The little girl who abandoned her people just because she didn’t like who daddy wanted her to marry calls me a coward?” Jared returned the barb. “Kind of hypocritical, don’t you think?”

“You have no fucking idea what the hell I left was like,” snarled Micaela in return, all pretentions and control gone.

“I have every idea princess,” Jared growled back.

The tension between them was so high that Selene could almost see the sparks flying as their eyes bored into each other, neither flinching. She had never seen anyone be so openly hostile to Jared, let alone get under his skin like this Esthorian did. In fact everyone except Mara usually just wilted under his will. But this diminutive woman was like a rock.

Any other time Selene would’ve found this fascinating but at the moment it made her feel as if she were sitting on top of a massive tinderbox in the middle of summer, one that would go at any second. She needed to do something before they came to blows, again.

“Okay,” she interjected forcefully. “Everybody, let’s just calm down. Micaela, tell me about the Amazons.”

At first Selene was worried that they didn’t hear her or were just ignoring her. Both continued their stare-off, neither willing to admit defeat. But, finally as if by a silent accord, they relaxed and turned to face Selene. The Navi let out an audible sigh of relief.

“What do you wish to know, Navi?” Micaela questioned.

“Where do the girls come from?” Selene queried.

“All over the world,” answered the Amazonian leader. “Most are women who have been abused or oppressed by men and are wanting something more from life. Some we rescue others seek us out.

“Emmanuelle, for example, was gang raped by the men of her town when her father essentially used her as a shield to protect his guests,” Micaela gestured to her lieutenant. “After that, her father tossed her out into the streets because she was a disgrace to the family. We found her wandering in the woods a few weeks later, half-starved and sick from the abuse and she’s been with us ever since.”

Selene shuddered at the description, vividly remembering her own close call in Lakeside. Had it not been for Jared…well she didn’t want to think about that.

“What’s your story?” Selene inquired. “It seems odd that a princess would choose to live out here.”

If the observation bothered Micaela, she didn’t show it. “Being a princess, especially an Esthorian princess, isn’t all that the stories make it out to be,” she answered evenly. “Slaves have more rights than you. I was forced into a situation that I did not want and so, instead of accepting it as I was expected to, I ran away.”

“Doesn’t your father miss you?” Selene wondered.

“Perhaps he misses what he could buy with me,” Micaela allowed a tight, humorless smile. “But me personally? No. In fact as soon as I ran away, he declared me a traitor and as a result I am forced to live in exile.”

“I’m sorry,” Selene sympathized.

“I’m not,” Micaela shrugged. “It was a small price to pay for freedom. And besides, here I can do real good. We take in women who don’t even have their dignity left and give them food, a home, and a family. We teach them to fight and to be independent, without the shackles of men to hold them back.”

“Do the women stay here their whole lives?” Selene asked.

“Some do,” confirmed Micaela. “But most stay for only a few years, five to six usually, and then move on. I prefer it that way. I’d rather have my women get a real life in the real world than be stuck in this forest for the rest of their days.”

“What about you?” Selene probed.

“I will probably stay here the rest of my long life,” Micaela replied. “It isn’t like I have anywhere else to go.”

“Oh,” Selene hadn’t thought of that. “What do you guys do here? Just train?”

“Hardly,” Micaela answered with a short laugh. “Part of what we do is finding persecuted women around the world and bring them here. We have an extensive network of informants in the major cities that feed us information. When we hear of a woman being abused, we dispatch a team to extract them. We don’t get all of them, of course, but we have rescued a lot over the years.”

“How do you fund all of this?” Selene wondered.

“We, uh, acquire what we need from passing caravans,” Micaela’s violet eyes glinted mischievously.

“Huh?” Selene didn’t quite understand.

“She means they rob people,” Mara bluntly clarified, speaking up for the first time.

“Only from those who can afford it and never from women,” Micaela added. “It may not be the most ethical method but it certainly has been effective. But that’s why we train and we’ve gotten pretty good. Besides, we need to be able to protect ourselves from the authorities in Bashan and Beth Haven that want to remove us as a threat.”

“Good luck with that,” Mara snorted disdainfully.

Micaela seemed surprised at that reaction. “Excuse me?” she asked.

“You have a good camp here and you’re doing a good thing,” Mara illuminated. “Everyone has a job, the camp is clean and orderly, and you’re giving these women their dignity back. But to be frank, your martial skills are pathetic.”

“What do you mean?” Micaela asked the former slave, sounding more curious than offended.

“I’m guessing that since you are the leader and I haven’t seen any Kalashonians here, you are the Amazons’ best warrior?” Mara supposed.

“Certainly one of, yes,” Micaela confirmed.

“Then consider what happened today,” Mara explained. “Jared defeated, no humiliated you in less than ten seconds without even touching his sword. If he by himself can do that to your best fighter, imagine what a legion of Kalashonians can do to your band.”

“I doubt the Kalashonian army is stocked with War Masters,” pointed out Micaela which caused Selene to raise an eyebrow. How had she known that?

“True but that doesn’t mean they aren’t very, very good,” replied Mara. “Remember that we are talking about Kalashonians: war is in our very blood. We grow up learning to use a sword almost before learning how to walk. From what I’ve seen, the weakest Kalashonian soldier is worth five of your strongest Amazons.”

“Yet we’ve managed to thrive for almost a hundred years,” Micaela commented.

“Only because you have not been considered a threat,” Mara countered. “If anything, the Kalashonian Crown has considered you an asset. You discourage trade along the Ammonite Road which forces 90% of trade down the Great River. Rivers are much easier to control than roads, especially roads in an endless forest.”

Micaela bristled for a moment at the thought of being someone’s pawn but quickly composed herself. “Be that as it may, why would that change?” she questioned.

“One of several reasons,” the former slave answered. “One is that King Manasseh could decide that opening up the Ammonite Road would be more beneficial to Kalashon, at which point you become a problem to be dealt with. Another is that he may be planning to rebuild the Empire, in which case you are an obstacle. Not much of one, but still a problem that must be dealt with. Finally, there’s us. I am certain you are keenly aware of how valuable we are, especially Selene. If they burned an entire city to find us, do you really think they would hesitate to do the same to the forest?”

“Do you believe they will come?” she asked.

“Sooner or later, yes,” Mara nodded. “Because of us, sooner rather than later.”

“And you don’t think that we can fight them when they do?”

“I know you can’t,” Mara corrected. “You have what? Fifty trained women here, at most? That’s half of a Kalashonian cohort. They will send legions in after you, legions. That’s thousands of soldiers. Even if you were superiorly skilled to the Kalashonians, which you’re not, the sheer numbers alone would doom you.”

Micaela looked pensive for a long moment as she mulled over Mara’s points. “You are a War Master, correct?” she questioned.

“Correct,” Mara confirmed.

“Could you train my women to be better prepared for a Kalashonian attack?” Micaela requested.

Mara considered the Esthorian for a second. “Unfortunately we must get Selene to Jerel as quickly as possible,” she replied.

“Stay the winter with us,” Micaela offered. “Selene has told me a little bit of your adventures and you could certainly use a rest. It will be spring in a month or so and it will be much easier to travel to Jerel then, even easier if you are rested.”

“Staying in one place more than a week is dangerous for us,” Mara declined with a shake of her head. “Just ask the people of Beth Haven.”

“You are safe here, certainly for now,” Micaela countered. “Remember the Harosheth Hagoyim is very large and finding just three people in such a vast forest is difficult. Stay, rest for a month and train my women. Please.”

Mara looked at Jared who gave a curt nod in reply. “Very well,” the female War Master acquiesced. “Jared and I will stay and train your warriors.”

Micaela’s visage immediately darkened. “No way,” she said coldly. “There is no fucking way I am going to let some goddamned man teach my women anything, especially not martial arts.”

“Then I won’t teach your women anything,” Mara replied just as coldly. “Thank you for your hospitality but we will be leaving in the morning.”

“You would just leave us, knowing that we can be wiped out at any moment?” Micaela sharply demanded.

“I cannot teach people who are not willing to listen,” Mara icily rebutted.

“We are willing to listen,” countered Micaela.

“Are you?” Mara raised an eyebrow. “Then listen to your first lesson and listen well Esthorian. Do you know why there are no Kalashonians here? Because centuries ago we Kalashonians learned that the sword doesn’t care about gender. It will kill a woman just as easily as it would a man and therefore can be used by a woman to kill just as easily as it would a man. Our women are every bit their man’s equal so when things go wrong, our women don’t need to come crawling to some forest hideaway; we can take care of ourselves. The innkeeper Jael is proof of that.

“But do not be so foolish to think that this principle doesn’t work in reverse. Men are every bit our equal and do not forget that fact. You were humiliated in the ring today not just because Jared is the superior warrior but because you underestimated him simply because he was a man. You should thank the Creator that it was him instead of me in that arena today because if it had been me, your blood would still be watering the ground. Rest assured that the Kalashonian warriors will not be so merciful to let you off with simply a broken arm.”

“My women will not accept a man over them,” protested Micaela.

“Then they will die,” Mara succinctly declared. “As long as your women view combat in terms of man and woman, they will have no hope of victory. There are only two distinctions a warrior ever need make: combatant and non-combatant; friend and foe. A combatant is anyone, regardless of age, race, or gender that is armed and a friend is anyone not pointing that weapon at you. That is it. If you are not willing to accept that basic reality, then I cannot teach you.”

Micaela clenched and unclenched her jaw several times. Mara, Selene observed, had masterfully worked her into a corner. Had this been the ex-slave’s plan all along? She wouldn’t put it past her.

“Very well,” Micaela assented, glaring daggers at Jared. “I will allow him to teach us with you. Now if you’ll excuse me,” she rose abruptly, “I must go make arrangements.”

Selene didn’t need her Navi powers to know that was a lie.

*******