The Unlikely Amazon

It happened on the night of my tenth birthday.

Not that anyone had acknowledged the occasion. My uncle, who had "taken care of me" since my mother's the way a slaver "takes care" of his stock, certainly didn't give a damn about my feelings. I'll never know why, but I can see looking back on those days that he resented me in a way that went beyond simple callousness. Perhaps things were bad between him and my mother, and having me around was a constant reminder. It hardly matters now anyway.

Business in The Salty Toad - that was the name of uncle's tavern, a name which matched his appearance perfectly - was good that night, so I'd been to stay up late into the night helping to serve the guests. I had been sneaking peeks at the tavern customers, trying to eavesdrop on their conversations. Being cooped up in this tavern all of the time meant I took every opportunity I could to satisfy my curiosity about the outside world. Occasionally I was able to steal books from those who stayed the night, but generally eavesdropping was the safer option.

It was very clear that particular night that something special was going on. The tavern was packed with travelling adventurers and mercenaries, all armed to the teeth. Apparently they were all here for the same bounty, posted by the king some nights ago. I couldn't quite figure out who the bounty was for, but considering the amount of hunters who had been drawn to the area I knew it must be quite large. I surmised that it must be that a dragon had come to roost in the nearby mountains, and soon found myself daydreaming of how the dragon would swoop into the village, burn the accursed tavern to the ground and gobble up my uncle in one great gulp. Then I would take up the sword of one of the fallen mercenaries and strike the dragon dead, becoming a great hero of the realm.

While I was lost in these fantasies, I was startled by the door being opened with a loud slam and dropped a whole tray of ales. I stayed on the ground for a moment, wincing in anticipation of a blow that never came. The entire tavern had fallen silent. Then I heard a woman's voice from the direction of the entrance, a voice filled with the confidence of hard-won authority. "Well, well. Did all of you boys come all this way just to see me? I'd be flattered if I wasn't so insulted."

I raised my head to see three women standing in front of the open door. All three were dressed in what might only be very loosely termed armor. The outfits, stitched together from raw animal hides and scraps of leather, did little to protect the warriors' modesty, let alone their bodies. The one in the center, who had just spoken, stood tall and proud with her chin tilted back and her hands on her hips. Atop her head was a jeweled crown with brightly colored bird feathers woven into it. A sheathed sword rested against her thigh.

The other two, unlike their leader, seemed ready for combat at a moment's notice. One was wielding a bow, the other a pair of daggers, but both had the same half-crouched posture, resembling nothing so much as vicious jungle cats ready to pounce. Each of them also had a plume of feathers in her hair.

The silence was broken by a hushed exclamation: "that's her! The Amazon queen!". At the same time, some small object flew past my ear. The next thing I knew, the queen had one hand raised in front of her, a throwing knife caught between her fingers. It had barely missed me.

"Those of you here for my head are enemies of the Amazon people. Anyone else," the queen added with a glance in my direction, "I suggest you run." With that, she threw the knife back to where it came from - fortunately, I was able to dodge to the side this time.

I don't remember all of what happened in the chaos that followed. I think I tried to make for the door, but I was cut off, so I had to hide instead. I managed to find a spot behind the bar where I could watch in relative safety.

What I do remember clearly, though, is my awe as I watched the Amazons fight. The Salty Toad was a lively enough tavern, so I had seen plenty of fights, but the clumsy swings of drunken townsmen could hardly compare to this. On one side were a crowd of professional killers and warriors - yet their opponents clearly put them to shame. Those three warriors alone took on scores of enemies and made it look easy. The way they moved, dodging strikes from all directions while perfectly executing their own attacks, was without question the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. The queen never even drew her sword, choosing instead to simply use her enemies' attacks against them. I was so enraptured that I could scarcely remember to be afraid. And for all of their exposed skin, not once was any of them cut. But what captivated me most of all is that through the entire fight they were smiling. It was a ferocious and terrifying smile full of vicious intent, but it also spoke of the thrill of a battle well fought. To me, it looked like freedom.

As the battle drew to a close, suddenly I was grabbed from behind by the greasy, burly arms of my uncle. Somehow I knew instantly that his intentions were less than kind. I tried to wriggle free and was rewarded with the feel of a knife against my throat. "You Amazon bitches," he shouted, "you've got some sort of code, right? You don't kill kids. So unless you want this boy's blood on your hands, you get the hell out of my tavern."

My uncle had never been very bright.

The first arrow hit him in the wrist, and the knife clattered to the floor. I didn't see what happened after that, but within seconds I was on the floor, his severed head beside me in a pool of spilt ale. I was unhurt, but it was only a moment before consciousness slipped away.

When I came to, the first thing I noticed was the smell of blood and bile. The second thing I noticed was that, thankfully, I was no longer staring into the lifeless visage of my former tormentor. In fact, a brief survey of my surroundings showed that all of the bodies had been removed. I staggered to my feet. The knife he had threatened me with was still on the floor; I grabbed it without thinking and made my way outside.

There were signs of more fighting throughout the town, especially near the guard post and the mayor's office, where the local taxes would be held. It seemed the locals had either fled or remained hidden in their homes. I knew better than to seek charity from them. If they had wanted to help me they would have done it a long time ago.

The stench grew stronger as I neared the edge of town. What I had at first mistaken for sunrise turned out to be a heap of corpses set aflame. They had already been stripped of armor and weapons. I moved on.

The trail out of town left by the Amazons was clear - likely purposefully so, in order to lure out any remaining adventurers. With nothing better to do, I followed it into the forest.

Over the next few months I followed the Amazon tribe as they progressed through the wilderness. I somehow never realized at the time, but they knew I was there. At first, some of the younger girls would leave things out where I could easily find and take them - usually food, occasionally fresh clothing. Before long my old rags had been entirely replaced by tribal furs. Over time, I learned by observing the tribeswomen how to make the clothes for myself, as well as the essential skills of hunting, foraging, and food preparation. I also took every opportunity I could to watch their warriors spar, attempting to imitate their movements in battle with such opponents as rocks and trees. While none of them ever spoke to me or acknowledged my presence, I began to feel like a part of their tribe myself.

However, it wouldn't last. As I became more and more capable of surviving on my own, the tribe became more and more difficult to follow. One day, about two whole years after I had first begun following them, a false trail led me not to the tribe's camp, but to the outskirts of a large village. It was then that I realized that for all this time, the tribe really had been raising me, and that now they had left me. They were the closest thing to a real home I had ever known.

I lived in that village for several years, hunting in the forest and selling what pelts and meat I could spare. The townspeople took me for an orphan girl - I hadn't cut my hair in two years - and came to more or less accept me. However, the fact that I continued to live as the Amazons did, dressing myself in their traditional garb and maintaining their rites and customs to the best of my observations, meant I could never really be one of the townspeople there. Eventually I realized this, and set out in search of the home I had lost. I sometimes wonder if anyone in that village noticed my passing.

Now, at last, nine years to the day since that fateful night in the tavern (actually, it's a few weeks short of that, but "nine years to the day" sounds much better) I've managed to track them down. It turns out, as far as I can tell, that they really are open to new recruits. I'm going to present myself to the tribe in the hopes that they'll accept me.