has two leaders: the War Queen who trains the warriors and leads their raids, and the Home Queen who governs the farming and cooking and weaving wool from a sheep flock in the hills. Several senior Amazons join the queens in a ruling council.
The warriors are the top Amazons, heroes of the colony, outranking the home girls who cook, sew, tend sheep, bake bread, milk goats, and perform other domestic chores.
"When new runaways come here, the biggest and strongest become fighters under the War Queen," Octos related. "The warriors take a blood oath to die for each other. They train constantly until they're tough like iron. They're damn fine archers, and they kill deer in the hills to feed us all. New women who are too small are assigned to work for the Home Queen."
A long-bearded slave named Ankus related that the village is full of loot from caravans raided by the wild women. About twenty stolen wagons are parked under trees. The horses become mounts for the Amazon cavalry. Finery and goods of all sorts are stashed in the Amazon quarters.
"They don't need to smelt metals, or tan leather for saddles, or make pottery," he said, "because they take all those things from unlucky caravans."
Male slaves mostly work in the fields growing food, Ankus said. A few others dig clay from a downstream creekbank, mix it with straw, shape it into bricks, and dry them in sunshine. Finished bricks are carried to construction sites where new rooms are added to buildings. Slaves also press oil from olives in the grove, pick grapes from the vineyard for wine, harvest wheat in autumn, and perform other village labor. At the bakery they grind the wheat in a great stone bowl, soak it into dough and bake it in wood-fired ovens.
Ankus, who wore a keen look of intelligence, analyzed:
"Concealment is the Amazon secret of survival. If Greek legions found this place, they could wipe it out swiftly. But the women always brush away their tracks when they enter or leave the valley. Sometimes, when they aren't pulling captured wagons, they ride further up the Thermodon to leave false tracks, then double back in the edge of the river, to leave no trail. They take an oath swearing that if they're ever captured and tortured, they won't reveal the location of their secret hideout, or they will tell a false location far away."
Old Octos leered at us with lechery.
"The women bathe naked in the pool every evening," he said. "Then they sing around a bonfire. But that isn't the best part. While a few Amazons take younger women as their lovers, the rest summon us slaves to their beds at night, just like rich Greek men calling their concubines. Even an old one-legger like me gets a lot of night work." He winked at us. "The life of a slave isn't all bad"
I was intrigued by the thought of being a bed-slave, but Dalien looked resentful.
"Don't the women become pregnant?" I asked.
"Occasionally," Octos replied. "They keep the girl babies and send the boys off in a wagon at night to an old woman who lives alone outside a village down the valley. She knows slave traders who buy the boys. An Amazon once told me: 'Since you Greeks value boys more than girls, we send you our boys, and good riddance.'"
"One more thing," Octos added, watching our reactions. "These Amazons are goddess-worshipers, and you'll probably be ordered to perform holy copulation."
"What?" Darien snarled. The burly slave continued:
"Behind the warrior dormitory is a shrine to three goddesses: Hera, Aphrodite and Artemis the huntress. It has three painted wooden statues and three altars. Before they go on a raid, the Amazons sacrifice a lamb, thinking this will persuade the goddesses to protect them. It's done by a tall priestess named Eila.
"Well, Eila is a lusty one, and she has a sex ritual. Every full moon, they put a raised platform in front of the Aphrodite statue, with a pallet on it. Torches are lit around it. The Amazons gather in a circle. Eila puts on an Aphrodite mask and strips naked.
The warriors are the top Amazons, heroes of the colony, outranking the home girls who cook, sew, tend sheep, bake bread, milk goats, and perform other domestic chores.
"When new runaways come here, the biggest and strongest become fighters under the War Queen," Octos related. "The warriors take a blood oath to die for each other. They train constantly until they're tough like iron. They're damn fine archers, and they kill deer in the hills to feed us all. New women who are too small are assigned to work for the Home Queen."
A long-bearded slave named Ankus related that the village is full of loot from caravans raided by the wild women. About twenty stolen wagons are parked under trees. The horses become mounts for the Amazon cavalry. Finery and goods of all sorts are stashed in the Amazon quarters.
"They don't need to smelt metals, or tan leather for saddles, or make pottery," he said, "because they take all those things from unlucky caravans."
Male slaves mostly work in the fields growing food, Ankus said. A few others dig clay from a downstream creekbank, mix it with straw, shape it into bricks, and dry them in sunshine. Finished bricks are carried to construction sites where new rooms are added to buildings. Slaves also press oil from olives in the grove, pick grapes from the vineyard for wine, harvest wheat in autumn, and perform other village labor. At the bakery they grind the wheat in a great stone bowl, soak it into dough and bake it in wood-fired ovens.
Ankus, who wore a keen look of intelligence, analyzed:
"Concealment is the Amazon secret of survival. If Greek legions found this place, they could wipe it out swiftly. But the women always brush away their tracks when they enter or leave the valley. Sometimes, when they aren't pulling captured wagons, they ride further up the Thermodon to leave false tracks, then double back in the edge of the river, to leave no trail. They take an oath swearing that if they're ever captured and tortured, they won't reveal the location of their secret hideout, or they will tell a false location far away."
Old Octos leered at us with lechery.
"The women bathe naked in the pool every evening," he said. "Then they sing around a bonfire. But that isn't the best part. While a few Amazons take younger women as their lovers, the rest summon us slaves to their beds at night, just like rich Greek men calling their concubines. Even an old one-legger like me gets a lot of night work." He winked at us. "The life of a slave isn't all bad"
I was intrigued by the thought of being a bed-slave, but Dalien looked resentful.
"Don't the women become pregnant?" I asked.
"Occasionally," Octos replied. "They keep the girl babies and send the boys off in a wagon at night to an old woman who lives alone outside a village down the valley. She knows slave traders who buy the boys. An Amazon once told me: 'Since you Greeks value boys more than girls, we send you our boys, and good riddance.'"
"One more thing," Octos added, watching our reactions. "These Amazons are goddess-worshipers, and you'll probably be ordered to perform holy copulation."
"What?" Darien snarled. The burly slave continued:
"Behind the warrior dormitory is a shrine to three goddesses: Hera, Aphrodite and Artemis the huntress. It has three painted wooden statues and three altars. Before they go on a raid, the Amazons sacrifice a lamb, thinking this will persuade the goddesses to protect them. It's done by a tall priestess named Eila.
"Well, Eila is a lusty one, and she has a sex ritual. Every full moon, they put a raised platform in front of the Aphrodite statue, with a pallet on it. Torches are lit around it. The Amazons gather in a circle. Eila puts on an Aphrodite mask and strips naked.
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