Mood Riders (9 page)

Myrina felt a little disconcerted as Atisha led her away from the camp and Cassandra wandered back to where Penthesilea was putting the dancers through their paces. Now that she was alone with her, Myrina felt a little afraid of the sharp-tongued Old Woman.

“Right.” Atisha shaded her eyes from the sun. “Let’s find a pleasant shady spot. Over there by the stream; that will do well.”

Myrina obeyed, wishing that Cassandra were coming, too.

“Come sit beside me,” Atisha ordered. “Sit so that you can lean against the tree. May I see your mirror?”

“It isn’t like Cassandra’s.” Myrina spoke hesitantly, pulling the snaky mirror from its bag.

“No,” Atisha agreed, gently touching Aben’s delicate work. “But it is a very beautiful mirror, made with great love and care, and I think it is just the right mirror for you.”

A
TISHA MADE
M
YRINA
lean back against the tree holding the mirror in front of her. “Now,” she asked. “What do you see?”

Myrina frowned, still puzzled. “My own face.”

“Good. Now let your eyelids droop a little, let your shoulders sink, slow your breathing down, as though you’d like to sleep.”

Myrina suddenly felt very tired.

“Now tell me, what do you see behind your face?”

“I see the strong tree’s bark, and green leaves dancing in the breeze, and a blue, blue sky,” Myrina murmured.

“Forget yourself and gaze through the leaves into that sky.”

Myrina felt as though she’d rather go to sleep but she tried to obey the Old Woman and soon she gasped.

“What do you see?” Atisha asked. “What do you see out there in the sky?”

“Clouds and swirling mist and shapes!”

“What shapes, child?”

But Myrina could only gasp again with delight as, through the swirling mist, familiar shapes emerged. There was Hati, holding a wreath of flowers, slipping them over Reseda’s head. Then Gul was hugging her older daughter and Aben was there, too, slipping a fine silver bangle carved in the shape of deer’s horns onto Reseda’s arm.

“What do you see?” Atisha was smiling now.

“I see those I love the best,” Myrina murmured contentedly; then suddenly she was alert with excitement. “Beno, my sister has chosen Beno for her husband; she’s chosen well.”

“And you have done very well. Come back now, back through the sky and the leaves and the tree bark,” Atisha told her firmly.

At once the misty pictures merged together and faded. Myrina was staring at her own face again, reluctant to let the vision go.

“Now, just sit still for a moment,” Atisha told her. “The first time that you mirror-gaze and truly see may leave you drained of energy. Now then, how do you feel?”

Myrina smiled and sighed. “Happy,” she said. “Just happy. Reseda knew about my golden brown viper and now I know how.”

Atisha nodded. “If you long for your family and friends now you know what to do.”

“But,” Myrina said, “will I be able to do such a thing myself, without you to guide me?”

Atisha laughed. “You did well, Snaky Girl; some find it much more difficult than that. The more you practice, the stronger your magic will grow.”

“I didn’t see Tomi,” she realized.

“You will see whomever you want to see,” Atisha told her. “There will be plenty of time for keeping an eye on your sweetheart.”

Myrina jumped. The Old Woman seemed to know everything about her.

“Don’t look so fearful.” Atisha cackled crudely. “I didn’t need my magic mirror to tell me that; the boy couldn’t take his great calf eyes from you while you danced.”

Myrina was pleased to hear that. “But what of Cassandra?” she asked. “Can she make this magic without being taught?”

Atisha turned solemn. “That ancient mirror of hers has strong mystical powers. In Troy, they would say she was chosen by the god Apollo, but I think there’s a touch of Earth Mother, Maa, in the gift and maybe Dancing Myrina was her messenger.”

This was deep magic that they talked of now, ancient magic that carried a great responsibility with it. Myrina could not help but feel a little resentful that the shade of the famous old warrior woman should visit Cassandra and not her who was her namesake.

Atisha nodded. “I am coming to understand that we are honored to have Cassandra here with us, and yet . . .” The Old Woman stopped, her lined face full of pain.

“Something troubles you about her?” Myrina whispered, hoping that she wasn’t being disrespectful.

But Atisha smiled and patted her shoulder approvingly. “You are much like your grandmother,” she said. “Yes, something does trouble me. Cassandra’s gift will bring her sorrow. She doesn’t just see, as I do, as you did—she feels. She feels the emotions of those she sees. That can be too much for one person to bear, far too much. What that one needs is a true friend.”

Myrina frowned. She could see that such a gift could bring suffering, but she couldn’t help but feel annoyed by the respect, almost reverence, that Atisha had so quickly given to Cassandra.

“What that one needs is a loyal and stalwart companion,” Atisha repeated.

Myrina shuffled uncomfortably. She felt sure that the Old Woman was suggesting that she be this stalwart one. Didn’t she have enough to do just keeping up with the other Moon Riders? Chryseis had seemed to be such a loyal companion but Cassandra had ruthlessly left her behind in Troy.

She was relieved when Atisha got up briskly and said, “Well, well . . . we shall see. We must return to the others. We’ll cook and eat the fish that we’ve been given, then tomorrow we hunt. Are you good with the bow and arrow?”

“Yes,” Myrina answered with confidence. “I can shoot from horseback in all directions, twisting north, south, east, and west, as Hati taught me.”

“You are a born Moon Rider.” Atisha smiled.

As the days lengthened and the bitter winter winds softened, the Moon Riders traveled on through Thrace. Everywhere they went they were welcomed and honored; their presence brought feasts and dancing.

Myrina had little time to mirror-gaze, or even think about her family. Every day brought a new journey, new people, a babble of strange languages, and unfamiliar food that must be received with courtesy. Cassandra struggled through it all with grim determination.

Atisha picked a steady mare called Arian for the Trojan princess, but even so, the first few weeks of riding alone brought her bruised thighs and an aching back. Myrina couldn’t help but notice the persistence with which Cassandra clambered onto Arian’s back each morning, gritting her teeth silently against the aches and pains. She readily joined the dancing each night, studiously copying Myrina’s every twist and turn, willingly raising her fine voice in song whenever it was requested, even though she might be dropping from exhaustion.

As the two newcomers to the group they were often put together, and Myrina felt that she was being forced into the role of companion to Cassandra, whether she wished it or not. Atisha often spoke sharply to them both, but watched their struggles with approval.

Their journey took them first along the western shore of Thrace, through the lands of the old king Peiroos and the warlike Ciconi tribes. Myrina stared in wonder at the strange way the men wore their long hair, tied up in topknots on the crowns of their heads. Before the Moon-maidens danced for them, the Ciconi men honored them by performing wild wrestling matches, making the young women cheer and swear that they were glad these people were their friends and not their enemies.

Two young women from the Ciconis were presented to Atisha and accepted as new Moon-maidens. Suddenly Myrina and Cassandra were not the only new recruits.

From there they traveled south to Abdera, and on to the lands of the Paionis, where the chieftain Pyraechmes ruled. Then they turned north to the lands of the great Thracian overlord Rhesus and the Edoni tribe, where two of the older Moon Riders would return to their families and two younger girls would be welcomed in their place.

In Thrace the Moon Riders were welcomed just as they were by the Anatolian tribes, but here they were known as Wolf-maidens in honor of Harpalyce, daughter of the Great Thracian Mountain Mother. The stories that Atisha told were different and Myrina listened with rapt attention to the adventurous stories of Harpalyce’s childhood in the wilderness and mountains of Thrace.

At last their journey took them in an easterly direction, through the mountainous lands of the Moesians, and through the Month of Flies they rode back along the southern shore of the Black Sea.

Atisha brought her fine white stallion up beside Myrina and Cassandra. “Spring has come and gone,” she told them. “We ride fast toward our favorite camping ground, where we’ll stay and rest during the Month of Burning Heat. You have both worked hard and proved yourselves; now is the time for you to be happy and enjoy!”

“We will!” Myrina agreed, smiling and acknowledging the compliment, but Cassandra looked a little puzzled; enjoyment would not come easily to her.

T
HE
M
OON
R
IDERS
crossed the narrow Bosphorus Sea then rode south again, along the shore of the Sea of Marmara, to Elikmaa, where they made their summer camp each year. Though Myrina had traveled far and wide with her family she’d never before been to this lovely spot beside a huge lake. They set up their tents beside the water; lush fertile hills with clumps of cypress trees stretched out behind them. Myrina breathed in the scent of iris flowers, mint, and sage.

A breeze from the water ruffled her hair. “A good cool place to be,” she murmured.

“Yes,” Cassandra agreed, seeming a little more at ease in this beautiful place. “And see the fig trees heavy with fruit and ripe golden peaches growing all about us; nobody will go hungry here. We are like the fish.”

Myrina frowned, puzzled. “Like the fish?”

“Like the fish,” Cassandra insisted. “We go north in the summer for coolness, then turn south for the winter to find warmth.”

Suddenly Myrina understood and laughed. “You’re mad,” she told Cassandra cheerfully, making her hands float like fins, and her mouth gulp, to imitate a fish swimming upstream.

“Yes, that’s what they always said in Troy,” the princess answered, laughing back at her. “They called me mad!”

“You look beautiful when you laugh,” Myrina told her truthfully.

“No one in Troy ever said
that
,” Cassandra answered, happy for once.

Myrina smiled back at her. Being Cassandra’s stalwart companion was not turning out to be so very difficult after all.

The tribes who camped near Elikmaa welcomed the Moon Riders with goat’s milk cheese and delicious flat bread, rolled very thin and baked over fires glowing with charcoal. For once the only dance that was required of them was the gentle moon-dance that sent them all sleepy to their beds.

Though there was no more traveling for a while, there was still work to do, making sure that the horses were well fed, watered, and exercised. The Month of Burning Heat went by all too soon and Atisha began to plan their next move south through the mountains. Bow practice was resumed, as soon as they’d saluted the morning sun.

The Moon Riders’ tradition was always to shoot their arrows from horseback and in the old days, when they’d turned warrior, few enemies dared to face the formidable threat of charging Amazons.