Amazons?!

“Amazons?!” You utter your shock out loud. “By Jupiter, you're a tribe of Amazons?”

“Hmpt.” The queen rolls her eyes in scorn, “Typical ignorant and arrogant man. You think us just a legend!” She waves her extended finger at you as if scolding a child. “My people have lived on these lands for millennium. We are a warrior race, and have faced your kind before. The Iberians, the Celts, the Carthaginians, the Sardinians, the Boeotia, the Ligures and the Etruscans have all come like you before, and they have all fallen by our swords. Now the name "Romans" will simply be added to the walls in our Temple to Nike.

Placing her hands on the side of the table the queen leans over and stares down at you. “You will tell me your name, your station, the size of your colony, the number of its garrison and how many are hoplites, rorarii and equites celeres. You will tell me the state of your defenses and who is your sponsor back in Rome. Did the Senate send you, some wealthy patrician or . . .” the queen strangely pauses, “. . . was this by an oracle by your priestesses of Vesta?” The queens eyes narrow into a threatening glare. “Speak dog, while you still can.”

Returning the queen's gaze with equal determination you calmly, and proudly state your name and station. “I am Gaius Severinus Vikare of the equestrian rank and I demand to be treated with the honor due my station. You will release me, return my armor and tell me the status of my men. Then, Queen Marpesia, I will entreat your royal person to see if peace can be found between our peoples.”

The queen straightens up, appearing a bit surprised by your forceful, yet courteous answer. “You surprise me Roman.” She finally speaks. “You possess courage and some wisdom, a rare combination for your gender.” The queen thinks for a moment before continuing. “Your men have been scattered by my warriors and have retreated back behind your walls. They probably think you dead. I will return your armor and send you back to your elders with the olive branch of Eirene and the with message that I am willing to talk, but first you will answer my questions and swear by your gods, and on the city of Rome herself, that you speak the truth.”

It is your turn to be surprised that Marpesia has become somewhat reasonable, for you thought you were good as dead at the hands of this wrathful queen. Your mind races as you ponder the queen's response and offer. It seemed that her eyes and voice wavered when she spoke about the Vestal Virgins. But why? As an Amazon could she by her nature respect or even fear the priestess of Vesta? You take too long lost in thought, however, and the queen's impatience returns when you do not immediately reply.

“My forbearance has its limits Roman.” She demands. “You will answer my questions or you will be tortured until you speak.”