Jane Yolen - Hippolyta and the Curse of the Amazons

And never before had any man laid a hand on her.

She shivered, then willed herself to stand tall. An Amazon does not tremble before men, she reminded herself.

“Escaped slave girl, do you think?” asked Lyksos. “That brat fathered on her by her master?”

“The child is not mine,” she said quickly, “and I am no slave.” There was anger in her voice, not fear. But her anger was not directed at the men. She was furious with herself for being taken so easily. What sort of Amazon was she to be caught asleep by these big, clumsy creatures? How could she have failed to waken at the first sound of their horses’ hooves?

Then she put her anger elsewhere. It’s the baby’s fault, she thought. He’d woken in the night, and she’d spent hours soothing him. No wonder when she’d finally fallen asleep, it was into troubled dreams.

The one called Dares walked over to where a chubby-faced man was holding the baby, carrying him as if he were a rabbit trussed for the spit. Taking the child, Dares held him up and stared into his little face. Then, surprisingly, he clucked with his tongue, and the baby, who’d been just about to start caterwauling again, opened his mouth and smiled.

“Check to see if it’s a boy or a girl,” Dares said, handing the baby back to the chubby man.

“It’s a boy,” Hippolyta said quickly. “His name is Podarces.”

“Swift-footed.” Dares laughed. “Unlike his … companion.”

Hippolyta felt her cheeks redden.

“Where do you suppose she got these weapons?” Phraxos said, turning over her pallet and holding up the ax and the bow. “Stole them?”

“They’re mine,” Hippolyta said, willing her voice to remain even.

A fourth man, with a ruddy complexion and a ring in his ear, started to laugh. “ Your weapons?”

“Give them to me, and you shall see how well I use them,” Hippolyta said. “On you.”

“Impudent—” He raised his hand to strike her.

Dares seized him by the wrist. “Nyctos, put your hand down. She’s speaking the truth. Look at that ax, the double-headed blade. Look what she’s wearing—the pleated cloak, the fur cap. Look at the serpentine armlet. That signifies she’s already made her journey into womanhood. She’s an Amazon.”

Nyctos shook his head. “Why would an Amazon be here alone?”

“Good question,” Dares said, turning to look at her quizzically.

“I answer to neither you nor any man,” Hippolyta said, but at the same time she felt some bit of pride at being identified.

“Maybe she’s a scout for an attacking army,” Lyksos suggested.

“With a baby boy for company?” Dares laughed. “Use your head, man.”

“I hear they murder baby boys,” said Nyctos.

“That’s not true,” Hippolyta said hotly. “I’m saving him.”

Fast as a striking adder, Dares said, “Saving him from what?”

She closed her lips tightly together. The truth would not serve her here.

All at once the baby squealed, and half the soldiers were distracted. Hippolyta dived at Phraxos, pushing him off-balance. Grabbing her ax, she did a quick forward roll on the ground and came up on the far side of the men, holding the ax in both hands.

“You fool, Phraxos,” Dares said. He motioned to his men, who, without a word, widely flanked her on both sides till she was inside a large circle with the baby on the outside.

Hippolyta’s mouth went dry as a sunbaked rock. She could feel the blood pounding at her temples. Molpadia had taunted her about slaying her first man. How Molpadia would laugh now.

“Give me the child,” she heard her own voice say, as if it were coming from somewhere far away. “And let me be on my way.”

“Amazon or not, girl, you’re no match for six Trojan warriors. Put down your weapon before we have to hurt you,” Dares said. He held out his left hand to her, but the right hand held his sword at the ready.

“Trojans!” Hippolyta exclaimed. “But that’s where I’m headed. I’m going to Troy to see King Laomedon.”

The men began to laugh, a sound like growing thunder, but Dares silenced them with a raised hand. “And why must you see the king?” he asked.

“I have a message for him from Otrere, queen of the Amazons,” Hippolyta said. “I’m her daughter, Hippolyta, Amazon princess.”

At that the laughter became a cloudburst, and the sound of it made the baby cry.

“Surrender your weapon,” Dares said, “and I promise to speak to the king for you.”

“What proof do I have that you’ll do what you promise?” Hippolyta asked.

“Only my word as a Trojan.” He smiled, holding out his hand once again.

“Only your word as a man ,” she said, her voice full of scorn.

“That will have to do,” Dares answered.

Hippolyta thought quickly. “Swear by your gods.”

“Captain,” said Phraxos, “let’s just take her.”

Nyctos grunted his agreement.

Dares held up his hand. “I swear by my gods that I’ll speak to the king for you. You’ll be our guest in Troy. Now give me the ax.”

Knowing that she had gotten as much out of the man as she could, Hippolyta said, “And I swear by Artemis that if you’re false, I will kill you.”

The men began their thunderous laughs again. But again Dares stopped them. “Done, young Amazon princess. The ax?”

She gave him the ax, handle first, and the bow. They let her keep the arrows, which they considered useless by themselves. She smiled to herself. They hadn’t seen how she’d used one on Molpadia.

Dares handed back the baby, and Hippolyta fed him the last of the milk. They let her milk the goat, then set it free. The horrid creature caprioled over the nearest hill and was gone, not even looking back once.

As she tied little Podarces on her back once again, she thought: Stupid goat. I saved you from the wolves, and you run right back to them.

Then Nyctos boosted her up onto the little mare, but Dares held the reins so that she couldn’t even think about escaping.

And so, led by the Trojans, Hippolyta rode out of the small rounded hills and down into the city itself.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ON TO TROY

TROY.

SHE’D EXPECTED TROY to be much like Themiscyra, perhaps a little larger, but nothing like this. Even her mother’s brief description of stone walls hadn’t prepared her. The walls were built of huge stone blocks, each the height and length of a tall man.

How had the Trojans managed to move them? she wondered. Surely only a giant or a Titan could have budged such a colossal weight.

The city didn’t consist of the wooden lodges and single-story buildings she was used to. Rather the stone dwellings and palaces of the Trojans rose twenty and thirty feet above the ground, overtopping even the mighty walls.

She gaped at the sight, and once more the men began to laugh at her.

Riding by her right side, Lyksos said unpleasantly, “I suppose you Amazons live in holes in the ground.”

She snapped: “A real warrior would not need such high walls to hide behind.” But her heart was not really in her reply.

“We have many enemies,” Dares said evenly. “It is their number that decides the height of our walls.”

Hippolyta continued to stare at the stones, measuring them with her eyes.

“Gaze well upon these walls, little princess, and think what sort of man must have built them,” Dares said. “That man is our king. Laomedon. Do you still want me to keep my promise?”

Hippolyta took a moment before answering, then said, “I must see him.”

They rode closer, and soon to the west of the walls they could see a blue sea sparkling in the noonday sun. Hippolyta put her hand up to shade her eyes and stared. Half a dozen ships were beached on the sand, their masts dismantled, their sails laid out to dry. As she watched, men busily loaded sacks and jars from the ships onto wagons. Overhead a single black-and-white tern flew by.