full-bodied woman with a commanding air arrived and told us:
"I am Hella, the Home Queen. You are slaves, captured by Saria, the War Queen. In our village, you will have the same rights that women have in Greek towns. You will work all day as commanded. You will be fed, and sleep in the slave building. When you are ordered to come to a woman's bed at night to give her pleasure, you will bathe and do as you are told, just as women do in Greek homes. But you may not bathe in the large pool with our Amazons. Use the smaller one downstream.
"You must defer to us and always say 'my lady,' even to the young girls. We teach them they are worthy of respect. Any insolence or disobedience by you will be punished swiftly. All our slaves have been wounded and cannot run far. If you attempt to escape, you will be hunted down by our warriors on horseback, with tracking dogs, and you will not be brought back alive."
The Home Queen started to leave, but turned back to me.
"You are too small to be a warrior."
"I was the troop's scribe."
She pondered. "Good. Saria often wishes that we could record our history, but our village never has contained a person with knowledge of written words. She may put your skills to work."
After she left, the girls brought us crutches made from forked saplings and helped us hobble in pain to the slave latrine pit behind the building. Our wounds had stopped bleeding, but we were helpless.
As we lay by the doorway, an Amazon warrior arrived with a water pot and a heap of bloody clothing.
"This is your first slave duty: While your wounds heal, you will wash these garments from your unfortunate comrades, so that we may reuse the cloth."
Dalien and I stared at each other, insulted by the command. We hesitated, but she drew her sword and pointed it at Dalien's face. Grudgingly, we began dunking the garments into the pot. After she left, we discussed our bizarre circumstances. Dalien, who wore arrogance gained from a life of privilege, was bitter.
"I will not be their slave," he said. "The bitches killed our commander and all our friends, and now they make us clean the spoils from their very bodies."
I didn't answer. He looked at me. "Well?"
"You're right," I said, then added: "But we would have done the same to them. If our mission had succeeded, any survivors would have been taken home in chains and put into bondage."
Dalien glowered: "They are enemies! You aren't a soldier and cannot understand patriotism. I took an oath to fight to the death against Greece's enemies. I will not be their slave."
He was correct. I felt ashamed for being disloyal to my people. We fell into silence as we worked.
Dalien added: "If captured, we soldiers have a duty to escape. As soon as I heal enough to walk—" He didn't finish.
All day we worked alone at the slave quarters. At evening, a dozen sweat-soaked male slaves hobbled home from the fields where they had worked. Nearly all walked with canes. They greeted us as newcomers to their sorry lot. A grizzled slave with a leg missing below the knee lurched up on a crutch and welcomed us.
"What a broken-down pair you are," he teased, shaking his head. "You'll fit right in, here in gimp-land."
The others laughed. He continued:
"The Amazons keep only slaves with busted legs, who can't run away. My name is Octos. I was in a brigade from Kilkis, but we were ambushed five years ago and a horse fell on me, taking off my leg. Ever since, I've been working for the Amazons, sitting down on the job."
Other slaves introduced themselves. Soon, young girls arrived with pots of soup and loaves of bread. We ate, sitting in a circle outside the doorway. We talked all evening, trading our stories. From the longtime slaves we learned many things about our captors and slave life, as follows:
The Amazons speak Greek because nearly all of them were Greek slaves or concubines who ran away from stern male masters. New runaways arrive randomly, increasing the female population.
The community
"I am Hella, the Home Queen. You are slaves, captured by Saria, the War Queen. In our village, you will have the same rights that women have in Greek towns. You will work all day as commanded. You will be fed, and sleep in the slave building. When you are ordered to come to a woman's bed at night to give her pleasure, you will bathe and do as you are told, just as women do in Greek homes. But you may not bathe in the large pool with our Amazons. Use the smaller one downstream.
"You must defer to us and always say 'my lady,' even to the young girls. We teach them they are worthy of respect. Any insolence or disobedience by you will be punished swiftly. All our slaves have been wounded and cannot run far. If you attempt to escape, you will be hunted down by our warriors on horseback, with tracking dogs, and you will not be brought back alive."
The Home Queen started to leave, but turned back to me.
"You are too small to be a warrior."
"I was the troop's scribe."
She pondered. "Good. Saria often wishes that we could record our history, but our village never has contained a person with knowledge of written words. She may put your skills to work."
After she left, the girls brought us crutches made from forked saplings and helped us hobble in pain to the slave latrine pit behind the building. Our wounds had stopped bleeding, but we were helpless.
As we lay by the doorway, an Amazon warrior arrived with a water pot and a heap of bloody clothing.
"This is your first slave duty: While your wounds heal, you will wash these garments from your unfortunate comrades, so that we may reuse the cloth."
Dalien and I stared at each other, insulted by the command. We hesitated, but she drew her sword and pointed it at Dalien's face. Grudgingly, we began dunking the garments into the pot. After she left, we discussed our bizarre circumstances. Dalien, who wore arrogance gained from a life of privilege, was bitter.
"I will not be their slave," he said. "The bitches killed our commander and all our friends, and now they make us clean the spoils from their very bodies."
I didn't answer. He looked at me. "Well?"
"You're right," I said, then added: "But we would have done the same to them. If our mission had succeeded, any survivors would have been taken home in chains and put into bondage."
Dalien glowered: "They are enemies! You aren't a soldier and cannot understand patriotism. I took an oath to fight to the death against Greece's enemies. I will not be their slave."
He was correct. I felt ashamed for being disloyal to my people. We fell into silence as we worked.
Dalien added: "If captured, we soldiers have a duty to escape. As soon as I heal enough to walk—" He didn't finish.
All day we worked alone at the slave quarters. At evening, a dozen sweat-soaked male slaves hobbled home from the fields where they had worked. Nearly all walked with canes. They greeted us as newcomers to their sorry lot. A grizzled slave with a leg missing below the knee lurched up on a crutch and welcomed us.
"What a broken-down pair you are," he teased, shaking his head. "You'll fit right in, here in gimp-land."
The others laughed. He continued:
"The Amazons keep only slaves with busted legs, who can't run away. My name is Octos. I was in a brigade from Kilkis, but we were ambushed five years ago and a horse fell on me, taking off my leg. Ever since, I've been working for the Amazons, sitting down on the job."
Other slaves introduced themselves. Soon, young girls arrived with pots of soup and loaves of bread. We ate, sitting in a circle outside the doorway. We talked all evening, trading our stories. From the longtime slaves we learned many things about our captors and slave life, as follows:
The Amazons speak Greek because nearly all of them were Greek slaves or concubines who ran away from stern male masters. New runaways arrive randomly, increasing the female population.
The community
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