Diana & Amazonia
By I.H. Reiss
Chapter One
Blood, Ashes, Garlic and the Hand of Dear Grandfather Death
I remember the day I died, and was born a slave. Among my people one is considered dead if one becomes so poor that they must beg bread; or if one is publicly humiliated, embarrassed, degraded in some way or you are mentally or physically hurt, severely... left crippled. I suppose watching the destruction of your town, seeing the blood on the swords of the enemy, hearing the screams and then the eerie silence and being drawn away as a prize slave, would make me in the eyes of my people, if not yet dead, then on the verge of death.
I remember that day, I had snuck out, and climbed up to the roof, and looked out over the wall of the city (though compared to Rome we might as well call it a town.) I had found a trick to see at great distances. and there was the only prophet worth anything, going out through the passage that was then barred after him. I knew then that our city and people were doomed...that my own dream (that he had told me was true) and by which I myself was now dressed in sack cloth and ashes as were all the members (the woman and girls in our household had followed suit, in that they had shaved their heads smeared ash on their faces, some had drawn spots...and all had eaten garlic) all except Josephia, she had been kidnapped as a girl and her father had gone to find her and had brought her back from Rome, she had loved her master, who had treated her like a daughter, and had raised her as such, for he and his wife had been childless, by the time her father, my grand uncle had found her, she was no longer the toddler, but a girl of six, happy in her Roman family, she hated her father, and her Roman father as well, for he was a good person and returned her to my grand uncle.
Years later she married into our family by marrying her cousin and my uncle...it brought her only one child my second cousin, as he was sickly even then, as a boy, it was not thought that he should inherit our dead grand uncle's estate... My father as the surviving eldest son was chosen to inherit it...and she, the widow came to live with us and became our housekeeper...though truly father would have had her live as a widow should, she insisted on,
"Doing something for the household, being the keeper of this household will keep the money in the house, for when my son becomes your daughters husband..." she let her voice trail of.
None would say a word against it, because none thought he would live till I reached the age of maturity, even he, who was so kind, so unlike his mother, said quietly to me one day,
"I would not force you into something that even I find repugnant, you and I know the truth, it isn't just the fact that I am often ill, it is I am more a woman my self, in my feelings and desires, if only such things were not forbidden, you and I share the bond of sisters and I will always love you that way."
It was why I felt she, his mother, resented me so, she had often told him that in Rome nobles such as the emperors, often married their sisters, but he told her back, he would rather die then do something so ugly in his own eyes, no one knew all this but I; this was why I knew and tried to warn my family, but none would hear a word against her ....
She, the old hag of a housekeeper, whom neither my father, nor brothers would get rid of (though I had said that she was a secret viper in our house waiting for her time to strike) she would be responsible for our failure to escape and for our ruse being found out. Her son, and my elder brother, would be unprepared for the news I brought they would be unprepared for the soldiers who came through the door my other brothers where not there they had gone to see if the secret passage in the house, my house, for it was to be mine upon marriage, was ready as my cousin and I had planned it, it was why my brother and he were not dressed as we were, nor with my other brothers (we share the same mother, and father, though my other brothers share the same father though not the same mother.) they told me it was ready all we needed now was to go... I was getting the little ones, and the other women of our household down to the secret passage when they attacked.
The viper of a housekeeper told them where our house was located, you see my cousin and I had made this house's entrance way as near to invisible as one could, we had added a wall in front of the front door, the door which we had made its entrance was in the small dark alley way. If you were looking down the alley you would see only a wall, it was an illusion, but one I had once discovered when I had gone into the house of a mason, he whose house was destroyed by a fire many years ago, I had been but a child back then and loved the illusions he created for his daughter who had been my friend.
The viper had slipped out of the house while I had been on the roof seeing the prophet leave. It was she who had told them our plan. When they broke in they did not see me come up by a secret door, one the viper didn't know of, the one that led to the secret passage and freedom. One of the men had said that my brother was so handsome, that he looked like a girl, and they might enjoy him before they killed him. My brother had a sword at his neck, I saw my cousin say,
"Surely a big strong man like you would rather have some one who is more supple and soft rather then a stringy boney little stick..."
at that moment I loved him more, for I knew what he was doing, he was trying to create a distraction, they turned to him, and laughed; as they did so he threw first one knife, the blade stuck in one of the laughing soldiers throats, the second advanced and received a knife in his stomach, even as the viper cried out,
"Son do not fight them, they have promised me that you will be free, and we can leave and take the lands that should have been ours...you will be welcomed by my Roman parents as a grandson should...please stop!"
At that moment he killed her, and the one who slit her throat used his knife, the same knife he had just used to slay the viper, and sent it toward my cousin, it missed him. He did not see the commander's second in command come up behind him and bash him on the head, the men asking why he didn't kill him, his reply,
"We need more slaves we have let the swords be too thirsty, and killed to many, we have to meet the quota for this section...but a little fun with the good looking lad would not go amiss if you are quick about it..."
he had pointed to my brother who had been fighting and had just lost his grip on his sword to another swarthy brute. The man laughing said,
"It will be nice to enjoy this sweet revenge, he is a bit of a girl in his fighting... and just as pretty."
I grabbed the soldier's sword closest to me, after rapping the cord from the drapes whose shadows I had been hiding in, around his neck. Tangled and near strangled by his panic, I had also taken his dagger. I remember what happened next as if it all happened in a slowness of cold honey, coming from the pot, or as if it happened so slowly, that the feeling was as if time had some how slowed.
I took the sword, fought the first soldier, and cut the heads off the soldiers who held my brother down, and had tried to remove his clothes he turned as their cold dead hands released him I threw him the short sword I had taken from the man I had just killed it was lighter then that which I held and I liked the daggers better. My cousin had come to, as the commanders second had advanced on me and fought him and slew him before he could get his sword in range. I was stronger then both my cousin, and my brother, because I often carried the children around, and father had said that I was more my mothers child, since she could carry two heavy sacks of grain by herself. At the time I did not think of them, or of any other member of our household, only my brother and cousin, and our freedom.
Their leader entered the house, as he did so, he threw his dagger at my cousin, and then pushed past the other men who had entered with him, but did not rush to the aid of the others since many of their dead comrades lay on the floor as obstacles to their own safe advancement. He their commander said,
"I have not killed your cousin or your brother nor will Iallow any harm to come to them or this one..."
he yanked forward my younger sister by her hair...I had been a mother to her since her own had passed away four years ago she was supposed to be outside the city helping at our country place, safe away from here. Seeing my surprise he said,
"You had an old Roman matron working for you, she said I should keep her as a sign of her good faith... (Looking down at the floor at the dead viper) I see that her gods didn't like what she did anymore then I, drop the weapons and surrender and I swear by Zeus, and all the gods that no harm shall come to her, that I personally will give her to the virgins of the temple of Vestus were none will touch her...it is the best I can do, for her, as for you, and the men... you will be prizes for Rome, anyone who can best twenty of my men will be no ordinary slave, although you are quite ugly being dressed as you are and shaven to boot...still I will meet my quota, and you and your brothers will be brought to Rome, alive. I would hate to drag your unconscious body out of here; it's quite an undignified way."
I threw my dagger at him as he advanced my brother dropping his sword to see to our cousin and I still wanting to fight for I could not believe the words coming from his lips, would you?
He came close and as I fought he came in closer but could not strike after a few moments he shoved me backward as our blades met, me and the long dagger he had hilted his sword and dropped it to the ground when had sent the first dagger at the beginning of our battle, now he had been close enough to me to push me back and bring his gauntlet across my head rendering me senseless. When I awoke it was to find that he had kept his word, he rode just behind my brother and wounded cousin at the front of the line as we approached the seaside were we were to get on boats to be brought to Rome. My little sister was in the wagon with me tending my aching head and telling me how she had been lured back by the viperous housekeeper how the soldier had been disgusted by the viper, but knew he needed to meet his quota and had not...he was short, now however with the three of us, especially me, his quota might not matter, he was after all some sort of nobleman or senator's son...I still do not understand it all, but then, I only knew that he was able to keep his word.
*
There is one more incident that I wish to mention before I was brought in chains to Rome...it is the most painful because my dear little sister was the uckiest of us all.
When we were to board the ships, talk about how they were watching us closely circled to the why, it seems that a previous group had asked if it was forbidden to take ones own life, if the fate which awaited one, was that they be as a play toy, or a sacrifice to their idols... then death was not just permissible, but considered a holy act, some said our laws demanded thatwe not let the unholy defile us, since each of us was considered a holy vessel for our creator, like those before us, we chose martyrdom, we chose to die, by throwing ourselves into the sea, as we boarded, we, all of us jumped over board. I felt my self drop like a stone because of the chains, as I held my little sister in my arms; we had said our farewells, and did what we hoped our god would see as good, in mercy, we hoped we would be martyrs, and death would like some dear grandfather taking us by the hand, to that better world.
*
I awoke on deck wet then I heard,
"Well at least this one is alive, she is the prize, so he says, we will see tomorrow at Paphos."
That was how by the time I reached Rome word had spread that there was a women who could fight like a tigress...or so they called me then when I would not speak. When I arrived at Rome my sackcloth had been removed and I wore loose fitting garments that showed more skin then I had ever shown. I felt naked and had stopped eating, the soldier responsible, he of the quota, knew I was trying to die, each battle I fought I gave my opponent a chance to kill me; each time he would call a halt, and say look over there...there is your brother. Finally threatening me with,
"You spoiled things, your sister is dead, and your brothers are here alive, for all they tried like you not to be...If you die I will sell them to be used as women in the brothels are, or as eunuchs...but trust me live they will."
I just didn't want to live, but I was forced to. It was then that I realized I was dead already.
There are those who ask why I do not name my granduncle or my brother or even give my name...not even the name of my dead sister or cousin... Among my people one doesnt mention the name of those who were saintly with those who were evil, but for me there is another reason... they are dead, and I am dead, and the dead need no name...no name to attach to their shame. My little sister who died, would have been called in Latin, Gaya Alma, but giving her this name would be to insult her memory...My cousin received the Greek version of his name by his new master Aesop...but do the names of the dead matter?