From the Annals of Bastet

For the Anniversary of the Birth of Kendaa: Champion of the Amazons

The patrolling Amazons had had a grueling night of combat complicated with mishaps that could not be foreseen. A band of warriors had been raiding some of the villages on the periphery of the Nation and the sister soldiers had hoped to meet up with the brigands. Night patrols were always more of a risk because of poor sight and fatigue though the Amazons were taught to try to rest before they knew they would come up for duty after the cover of darkness. However the bravado of the warrior, not foreign even to these female fighters, caused many of them to push themselves during the day and put in a full night's tour. This choice had seen the evening's events go badly for the patrollers when they did come upon the brigands. It might have been worse if the men had not taken a young girl with them into the forest for their pleasure. The screams of the girl, not more than twelve or thirteen, brought the Amazons coming through the trees with renewed fury, banishing the fatigue that they felt.

The two groups had been evenly matched in numbers, seven per side. The men had just come from the village and had lost one of their number in the fight. Two were wounded but not seriously. Of the Amazons, the seven women were in fighting prime but earlier, as they had made their way through the trees, a branch had given way, causing three of the women to take a nasty fall. No bones were broken, but there were strains and sprains, some fairly deep cuts and bruises. The leader of the patrol had considered turning back for home when they heard the scream in the distance.

Kendaa and Lessa were leading the patrol tonight with Kendaa taking up the rear as the senior officer behind Lessa. Lessa was in the very front, chipper as always when night came. Kendaa had been tired from a day of celebration as it was the anniversary of her birth. The other patrollers had urged her to beg off on this duty and it was traditional that this day was a day when an Amazon could rest and be pampered and lauded by others.

But Kendaa had had a strangely sad day despite being surrounded with love and friendship. For some reason, the memories of the green world, left behind in ashes, had been very strong today and she had had a dream the previous night of a pet that she had left behind when she had left the graves of her people and gone with Hercules to join the living. This companion had not been an animal as most would expect, but a tree. This creature, both male and female, young when it bloomed in the spring and old when the leaves were gone and its branches were bare, bore huge red apples in the fall. The branches were immense, reaching out in all directions, giving the eldritch child of the Queen of the Dryads many places to play and rest. The tree taught her in the spring about life and birth, and in the fall, about dying only to have it reborn in the spring with tiny green buds and white flowers bringing forth another generation of growth. Kendaa had spent hours in her tree, talking to the old soul whose toes went deep into the mother Earth. Through this being, whose presence was beyond a name, she learned a lesson better forgotten sometimes, for it was in this tree that she was sitting content when the first assault occurred from Hera on the Green World. It was through this tree that she learned that the end was near for those that she loved as the tree knew from its connection to the Earth.

Kendaa had dreamt of this tree last night. The feelings of sadness had haunted her all day. And although she had catnapped during a short rest period on the patrol, she was still tired and morose.

Now the scream of the young girl had reminded her of the shrieking of the young Dryads of her own family and friends as they died in the burning fury. All the fatigue and quiet grief of the day had erupted and she appeared suddenly beside Lessa like a wraith coming out of nowhere. The troop dropped out of the trees and onto the brigands, whooping the eerie calls of the Amazons as they descended.

The marauders were led by a tall young man with the unfortunate disposition of male pride that did not respond to shrewd analysis. He saw the women drop out of the trees and drew his sword, throwing aside the young girl for better prey. The men around him were slightly more intelligent and warned him about the nature of the Amazons, as they had on several occasions during the raid on the village. He scoffed at the comments of his sergeant.

"Good evening, ladies," said the young man, kicking the young girl who had tried to take a knife from him as she fell. She dropped in a heap, unconscious.

Lessa threw aside her war mask. The thing annoyed her anyway. She liked to have a full view of the field when she engaged her enemy. Kendaa did the same to reveal eyes on fire with rage.

Lessa's rage however was a smoldering flame, well under control. She smiled as she drew her sword. "For a moment, just a moment, I contemplated mercy. But the kick. That did it, son. That sealed your less than fortunate fate."

The two sides were moving into position when the young man and the tall blond Amazon suddenly engaged and all of Kendaa's fury came to the fore. She seemed to embrace him, confusing the group, but her hands became like claws grasping at him and in an instant and no more, his head was twisted and neck broken. She turned her fury to the next man beside him and the two sides engaged with Amazons screeching like furies and the men now in the throes of desperate defense.

The fight did not last long. With the leader gone, the others tried to retreat, but the forest was not a good place for withdrawal and those not killed in battle were hunted down and captured. Of the seven men, one was left and he became so upset at being the last, that he ran himself onto Lessa's sword before she could stop him. No one was sure whether he had done it deliberately.

The dead were taken to the edge of the forest and left for whoever might claim them. After this gruesome task, the patrollers were finally able to go home for the night. A dawn patrol had come to relieve them as word had been sent to the village of the Queen about the marauders and a patrol of fifteen strong had now come under the command of Laurissa and the Wolf.

In all the excitement, Lessa had kept a curious eye on Kendaa. She had not said anything to the woman, sensing her sadness and knowing that Kendaa had a secret to her past as did many of the Amazons who were members of the Forum. They walked along now in silence as Lessa considered the what to say and found no answer.

Kendaa was carrying the young girl in her arms. The wound from the kick was serious and she had not regained consciousness. A trickle of blood oozed out of one ear.

They walked in silence until the troop came to the edge of the forest where the village that had been attacked was now buzzing with assistance from the Queen's troopers and other settlements bringing food, medical assistance and such. An older woman ran out toward the returning soldiers calling to her daughter.

"She's still alive," Lessa said. "but she has a bad head wound."

"Was she…?"

"No," Lessa answered. "We got to them before they got to her."

"Praise Hera," the woman replied. "I will sacrifice in her temple in the morning."

Kendaa handed the girl over to her mother and turned away. Lessa watched her go and turned to her patrol, dismissing them to return to their homes.

Kendaa headed back toward the forest.

The morning light filtering down through the trees began to relieve her deep sense of grief. She was troubled by the fact that she had not seen Ares throughout the whole day yesterday or even in the week before. He usually found time to visit her on special occasions although they were still getting to know each other. The Nation was all atwitter with the gossip that the tall blond Amazon was the possible lover of the dark God of War.

As Kendaa thought about this, it made her smile. Humans could be so silly. They voiced their moral outrage at sexual matters while they pushed and shoved to get a better look at that which also mesmerized them with curiosity.

"Fools," said a deep voice. Kendaa smiled and turned.

There in the deep shadows not yet touched by daylight was a tall figure, broad of shoulder and narrow in the hip. Legs long, standing with hands on hips, was the God of War.

"Yes, they are fools," she replied, continuing to walk into the forest away from him. "but so are we. I joined a people who worship the very being who destroyed my own. And you are her offspring. It's a strange path we take in life."

Suddenly he was in front of her. She could see the blaze of anger in his eyes.

"Look at me when I speak to you!" he commanded.

She half smiled, snorting quietly, and walked past him to go on down the path. She could hear him snarl.

Suddenly he grabbed her by the hair, pulling her back to him so that their faces were close. "You are an insolent bitch," he growled.

"Your point being?" She smiled at him again.

He growled again, throwing her aside and turning now to walk down the path himself. He paced a moment and then turned to look back at her. She was standing with her arms folded across her chest. The swell of her breasts under the tight leather vest was evident in the morning light. Ares felt himself responding to her beauty which made him all the more angry. "Join my army," he said.

"No."

"You won't fight under my banner, but you have no trouble coupling with me like bitch in heat," he answered.

"Oh, well, that's different. That's fun," she replied, smiling.

All his anger fizzled out as he heard her laugh quietly. He began to laugh himself. "Why do I let you torment me so?" he asked.

"Because I am possibly one of a handful of beings on this plane that do not fear you," she replied.

He approached her as she spoke. Her hair was now a cascade of gold light falling around her shoulders as Eos poured sunlight in shafts through the trees. He stood face to face with her and the dryad's green gold eyes studied the cold blueness of the god's eyes.

She said nothing but ran her fingers first through his black hair and then down the front of his vest, pulling it off him. She looked at the muscular chest, running her hands over the lines of the muscles and feeling his nipples harden in sexual response. She undid his belt and let the sword which gave him his power, drop to the side of him then squatted down and undid his boots, then his pants and his linens were cast aside and she stepped back to see him naked in the morning light.

The God of War had not a shred of modesty. He was proud of the body he had been given and did things both natural and supernatural to maintain his fitness. As a soldier, his body was his tool and he understood its importance. He had never been mortal but if he ever had that unfortunate experience, he wished to be ready for mortal duty.

Ares' presence had begun to lift the pall of sorrow that Kendaa had carried all the day and night. Now in the light of the morning, with the fingers of dawn illuminating the body of her lover in all its glory, the anguish of yesterday was banished and she felt herself free to celebrate.

Ares had never known a woman like her. As the immortal child of Zeus and Hera, he had been cursed with the belief system of his parents that sensuality was both a drive and yet a sin. He saw in humans the same curious ambivalence. In Kendaa, there was none. It was a sense like tasting or smelling. Indulging was a blessing bestowed on one. And the indulgence was something that one took care to enjoy with the same focus that one did in enjoying an intricate dance or a succulent recipe of cooking.

Kendaa stepped away from her lover and began to undress. She swayed with sensual rhythm as she took care to ease herself out of her clothing. He was responding to her with a manhood hard with anticipation of entering her and felt himself grow painfully, delightfully tense. Finally she was naked also, her features taking on the glow of the Dryads as they became in tune with their natural connection to the earth. She approached him and pressed herself fully against him, feelings his manhood between her thighs. "I love the feel of you," she said dreamily. "I love the smell and taste of you."

Ares wondered now if she was talking to him. He wondered if sometimes she became so transported by her senses that she ceased to be aware of who she was with and was now in connection with maleness itself.

He laid her down on the green grass examining her as he knelt beside her. Then he spread her legs and knelt between them, easing himself into her as both of them moaned. The coupling did not take as long as he would have liked because he had been on fire for her before he had gotten to the forest. He growled as he came and felt her respond the same, bringing him back up for a moment to come again. He relaxed onto her for a short while, then got up.

He picked her up and carried her to the side of the clearing. She moaned a moment, not wanting to move, but let him carry her over to the side of the clearing. He looked back to see a glistening pool of his seed where they had been. He smiled and lay her down, lying down with her in the warm sunlight. He went to sleep with her nestled by his side. But before he slept, he whispered something then closed his eyes with a smile.

It was well past noon and the sun was hot when Kendaa awoke. She ran her hands through her hair and yawned, smiling at the face of the War God in repose. She kissed his cheek and got up looking around for her clothing. Then she gasped softly. There in the center of the clearing was a sapling apple tree with the first buds of spring on its branches. Not much taller than she, it had the spirit of her childhood companion within it.

She felt tears stinging her face but could not keep them from coming. She looked back over at Ares. He was awake and leaning up on one elbow now, looking back at her.

"It's my gift to you," he said. She came back over and knelt down, kissing him. She could not find words.

It would be many years before the tree, like the couple, would bear fruit.