Mood Riders (7 page)

“Leave me!” Cassandra said. “I shall get down myself when I am ready!”

Priam dismounted and approached Atisha. “I assume that you did not knowingly take my daughter,” he blustered.

“I did not,” she agreed calmly. “But you and I must talk, for the princess wishes to come with us.”

“I’ll not hear of such a thing.” Priam clenched his fist.

“Let us set up an awning and rest and take a drink together.” Atisha’s steady courtesy was determined.

“I have no time for tea parties!” Priam shouted. “I shall take my daughter and go!”

A moment of tension followed, as Penthesilea and many of the women let their hands creep onto the handles of the sharp knives they kept sheathed in their belts, while the Trojan warriors gripped their sword pommels.

“Are we to battle to the death over a wayward child?” Atisha asked.

Priam hesitated, then bowed in agreement. Though the Moon Riders’ strange barbarian religion meant little to him, he knew that Atisha was held in great respect by the nomadic tribes of the north and he did not wish to make more enemies for himself. Acting as host to Menelaus had been a most nerve-racking experience. “We shall talk!”

P
ENTHESILEA QUICKLY FIXED
up an awning and the Moon Riders put away their weapons and offered figs and wine instead, which the Trojan warriors gladly accepted. Priam and Atisha talked together, first with anger, then with more calm. Cassandra wandered a little way off, looking very unhappy. Myrina watched her, seeing that her clasped hands would not stop trembling, though her face bore a brave scowl.

Myrina’s own confidence in this new way of life was waning fast and the princess’s actions were making it worse. At the same time she knew that Cassandra had risked much to reject her luxurious palace life. A touch of respect came with that recognition. She must be the only person there whom Cassandra knew, so she took her own drinking beaker from her baggage, filled it with wine and went after the princess. “Here, drink this,” she commanded.

Cassandra looked at her with gratitude. She obediently took the beaker and sipped the spiced wine, though her hands still shook.

“If they force me to return I shall kill myself,” Cassandra said quietly.

“If you come back with me,” Myrina told her, “then maybe you will hear what’s being said.”

They both went back and sat as close as they dared to Atisha. Priam acknowledged his daughter only with an angry glance, but he did not seem to be quite as furious as they might have feared. He and the Old Woman were deep in conversation, though the king now shook his head.

“It is for seven years,” Atisha explained patiently. “Seven years and then my dancers return to their homes, full of strength and wisdom.”

“They all return?”

Atisha looked across at the girl with the leaping panther on her arm. “Except for Penthesilea,” she said. “Her courage is great and though she’s still young she grows in wisdom, but—Penthesilea cannot return to her own people. Each leader must choose a young priestess to train to take her place eventually and I have chosen Penthesilea to follow me.”

A touch of curiosity lit the old king’s eyes for a moment but then the immediate problem of his daughter overwhelmed him. He shook his head. “Seven years . . . I cannot spare my daughter for seven years—besides she’s promised to Apollo,” he muttered. “Those who honor the sun god will whisper that Priam is disloyal to the Trojan gods.”

Atisha bowed her head in understanding. “But should the princess ride with us, then you would have our loyalty,” she assured him. “We would bring sun and rain for your crops, or rally fierce riders from the tribes, willing to come to your defense, should ever need arise.”

Priam’s lifted his eyes with new interest. Perhaps his daughter’s rebellion could bring him new and different allies. He’d never looked for support from this strange source, never even thought of it, but he knew that the Moon Riders had fought many battles in the past. They were feared by the Achaeans who called them Amazon Warriors.

Prince Hector sat dutifully beside his father, waiting patiently for his decision. He glanced over at Cassandra now and then, smiling sadly at her and shaking his head.

“Your elder brother is not like Prince Paris,” Myrina whispered.

“No indeed,” Cassandra agreed. “He is a fierce warrior and a strict brother but still, he’s always kind to me.”

“Won’t you be sorry to leave your family and your lovely palace?”

Cassandra looked at her with the touch of a smile. “You have left
your
family and
your
tribe.”

“Yes,” Myrina had to agree. “But not a palace! And what about your friend Chryseis? Will she not miss you? Will your father punish her for returning to Troy without you?”

Cassandra shook her head. “He dare not punish the daughter of Chryse, chief priest of Apollo of Tenedos. I care nothing for the palace and Chryseis understands what I do.”

Suddenly Priam was reaching out his hand to Atisha. Myrina could feel the terrible tension in the girl beside her. Priam looked over at his daughter, his eyes filling with tears. “Go with the Old Woman,” he told her. “But return to visit me each spring. If at any time I need you, you will come back to Troy.”

“Yes, Father.” Cassandra went to him, throwing her arms about him. “Thank you, Father.” Her voice was deep with emotion.

A sigh of relief from everyone was followed by wild whooping cries of approval from the Moon Riders.

Priam turned from his daughter to Atisha. “No patterned face for my child!”

“I agree to that,” Atisha answered.

“And you must know this,” he told her solemnly. “Though I do love this child of mine I give you warning, she is full of childish stories, fears, and imaginings. You must not believe all she says.”

Atisha folded her arms, a stubborn and ironic smile on her face. “I have seen and sensed the things you speak of and I tell you this: it is just those qualities in the princess that tell me she is a true Moon-maiden at heart.”

The king was puzzled by the frank reply but after a moment’s reflection he bowed his head in acknowledgment.

“Now.” Atisha turned away with a new sense of urgency. “Though I would not wish to behave with discourtesy to one who is now our friend, we must ride away fast toward the Sea of Marmara, as we’ve lost much of our journeying time.”

“I can send Trojan ships to carry you across the Hellespont,” Priam offered.

But Atisha shook her head. “I thank you,” she bowed, “but we must travel north to the Place of High Cliffs, beside the Sea of Marmara, where the fisher-folk await us by the shore. They leave their nets to carry us across to Thrace each spring and in return we dance for their fishing and bring down blessings on their work.”

Priam shook his head; this way of life was strange to him but courtesy to his new allies prevailed. He did not keep them there longer than it took to pack up and at last the Moon Riders were mounted again, galloping fast over the grassy plains while the sun sank in the west.

The light had almost gone when Atisha called a halt. They set up camp very quickly, the older girls moving fast and taking on extra jobs to make up for lost time.

Atisha called to Myrina, “Have you still got the food your mother packed?”

“Yes, it’s here.” Myrina lifted the bulging, strong leather bags down from Isatis’s back.

“It’s a blessing indeed,” the Old Woman told her. “Will you carry it around? Ask Cassandra to help you.”

“I will.” Myrina nodded, uncertain about asking a Trojan princess to work with her, but Cassandra seemed willing enough and grateful to have something to do.

The dancers settled about the fire that they’d built, carefully putting out their own drinking beakers and setting up their tables. Myrina carried around the food-bags filled with Gul’s flat, grainy bread. She took pleasure in the comments that came.

“So fresh!”

“Delicious!”

“Rare that we get bread as good as this!”

They ate heartily of the bread, smoked goat’s meat, cheese and olives. Myrina set up her own table and began to eat Gul’s bread, but though she was hungry, a sorrowful thought came to her. This meal was precious, the last that her mother would prepare for her for a very long time. A painful rush of longing for Gul and her familiar home-tent washed over her.

Terrible, shameful panicky thoughts rushed through her head. What would happen if she simply climbed up onto Isatis’s back and returned to the Place of Flowing Waters? Would the Moon Riders pursue her? She’d never heard of such a thing happening. It would be sure to bring deep shame upon her family.

She gazed around at the unfamiliar hills. Which way had they come? She wasn’t even sure of that. Suddenly her eyes filled up and hot, stinging tears started pouring down her cheeks.

The other girls who sat close by watched her stonily, not at all surprised; but Cassandra crept close and pushed her arm through Myrina’s, offering simple silent comfort. This touch of kindness only made the tears rain down more fiercely.

Atisha looked over at her from where she sat. “Now is the time for weeping,” she said. “This is good . . . this is right. You shall be happy again tomorrow.”

M
YRINA COULD NOT
stop crying. At last she got up, pushing Cassandra away, and ran in among the corraled horses. As ever, Isatis picked up her scent and came to her. Myrina flung her arms about the dark mare’s neck. The touch and familiar sounds and smells gave comfort. Myrina cried into the silky mane while Isatis stood there patiently, whickering gently. At last her sobs eased a little and she raised her head, feeling much relieved.

Myrina blew her nose and dried her eyes. Her memory slipped back to the day that Isatis had been weaned and taken away from her mother, Midnight.

“You are to be her mother now,” Aben had told the five-year-old Myrina.

He’d made a simple halter and showed her how to lead the young foal about.

“You stay at her side day and night,” he said. “You see her fed and watered, comb her coat and make sure that she’s warm. You lead her to tender clumps of grass, and keep the flies away from her ears.”

It had been hard work for such a small child, but Myrina had done as she was told and after one phase of the moon, Aben removed the halter. Myrina had been fearful that Isatis would simply gallop away and be very hard to catch again, but she needn’t have worried. She could still feel the joy that came as she discovered that everywhere she went, Isatis followed unbidden. Whenever she rode in front of Gul on the steady brown mare, Isatis trotted at their side, and the following spring Aben lifted her onto Isatis’s back for the first time. They’d been together ever since.

Myrina stroked the soft mane, digging her fingers into the shiny coat. She need never feel that she’d left all of her home and family behind, with Isatis at her side.

Calm now, she gave Isatis one last pat and turned to walk back to where Cassandra was still sitting, trying hard to regain a bit of dignity, despite her puffy eyes. Cassandra said nothing but handed her back the food that she had carefully kept for her. Myrina thanked her and started eating again.

When Myrina and Cassandra had finished their food, Penthesilea came to sit between them, putting a strong arm around each girl’s shoulders. “Reseda used to look after me and I promised that I would do the same for you, little Snaky. We have much to teach that will bring comfort to you both, but now we must sleep, for it has been a long and difficult day.”