The Heartstone Saga by Archibald Bradford (short novels in english .TXT) 📕

“What makes you so sure there will be so many volunteers?” Miranda asked.

Volka looked to the veteran operative and gave her a weak smile.

“Because if there aren’t, than we might just lose. So call it faith, Miranda.”

At least one good thing came of the attack, if it could even be called ‘good’: no more was there any doubt that they were at war.

Wealth and influence proved a poor barrier against the Ogres, and the affluent amongst the city had suffered as much as anyone.

Amongst the dead were Kathryn Jacobs and her family, their palatial home flattened by several of the enormous girls as they stampeded into the city.

By some miracle the Tenebrae had bypassed the garden full of Blomma at its center, though the flower-girls would be a long time recovering from the trauma of it.

The surviving masters of Garland’s many districts helped to coordinate with the Aegis in rescue efforts, scrounging medical supplies and finding shelter for people who had lost everything but their lives to the Ogre raid.

All watched over and directed by the tireless Dominar, her golden form flying to and fro over the city providing the only hope that many had to cling to.

Chapter 40:The Matriarch

Though she could feel the bond with her husband within her, the distance between the two made Escrya’s sense of his emotions hazy at best.

And she had her own problems to worry about.

When Nameless first met the Saenga Amazons he found them to have a feral age to them, a touch of untamable wilderness that could never be contained.

The Amazons escorting Escrya and her war-sisters were the very embodiment of that wildness.

Most of them were topless, and some wore no clothes at all, their naked bodies painted with swirling dark patterns, likely made from the bark of the ubiquitous black trees.

None of them wore anything on their feet, treading amongst the white snakes without seeming to notice them at all.

Together with Helena and Kaylee, Escrya’s hands were bound by white cords made of braided snakeskin as they were led into the strangest Amazon village imaginable.

The residents of the Darkwood lived on massive raised platforms encircling the black trees, presumably to avoid sleeping amidst the snakes that had so vexed the Saenga Amazons while they tried to sleep.

Connecting the platforms were simple rope bridges that extended from tree to tree to form an arboreal highway high off of the ground.

They walked for ages below the platforms, while pale-skinned faces peered over the edges to see who their war-sisters had returned with.

“There are more of them than I thought.” Helena muttered, only to earn a harsh cuff from one of their captors.

“We are many.” The leader of their captors sneered at her; “But you will not get to count our number before your death.”

After that there was no more talking, and finally they were led into the open-aired husk of a staggeringly massive tree stump in the center of the settlement.

Against the back wall of the hollow stump was a raised stone plinth, upon which the tallest Amazon any of them had ever seen watched them approach; the muscles of her legs and arms were a match for her height and her bearing was as stern and unreadable as the crude throne upon which she sat.

Her skin was as pale as any of the Darkwood Amazons, while a thick furred mantle lay across her shoulders, and the skull of some manner of large beast sat upon her head.

If this wasn’t the Amazon Matriarch, Escrya would eat her own hair.

All around the inside edge of the stump unfriendly glares were coming from the Darkwood Amazons waiting on their arrival, while the ones in the warparty soon fanned out to join them.

The Amazon that led them there knelt on both knees in front of the stone throne before looking up at the woman atop it.

“My Matriarch. That you might know me, I am Alia. I found these three interlopers. I wish to kill them that I might become a blooded warrior in your eyes.”

One of the other Amazons, the one that had objected to the syllable count in Alia’s poem, quickly stalked forwards and matched her kneeling posture.

“My Matriarch! That you might know me, I am Krista. There are three of them and many of us who wish to be blooded.” She gestured around at the circle of Amazons, several of whom were nodding their heads in approval; “I ask that we share their deaths!”

Alia tensed up at her side, but didn’t argue against her.

“Do we get a vote?” Kaylee asked plaintively.

Without a word one of the naked ones watching from the ring of warriors walked up and slugged her across the face, causing her head to snap to one side as her feet moved reflexively to keep her body upright.

She then looked to the Matriarch, as if silently seeking approval.

The massive monster girl had yet to speak, but she did nod her head at the Amazon that had struck Kaylee.

So another strode up to Helena, her eyes as cold as her sister’s as she pulled a stone knife from a white leather sheath under her arm.

Again without speaking she brought the blade up and cut the older Amazon below her clavicle, her blood flowing freely into her cleavage.

Helena grimaced at the injury, but glared her defiance at the one who inflicted it.

She and the others had picked up on what was going on: the Matriarch was testing them.

All around them wild warriors watched intently for any hint of weakness, while Alia still waited on her knees for approval to kill them.

“We’re wasting time!” Kaylee shouted when she recovered; “So many have died already, listen to-”

Another of the pale Amazons let out a high pitched scream and