Memory
CHAPTER SIX
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
CHAPTER SIX
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
CHAPTER TEN
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
EPILOGUE

“Challenger!” Roxton shouted when the scientist grasped his own hand and fell down on one knee in pain. The hunter was further alerted when another arrow whizzed by his head, missing Roxton by inches. He barked, “It’s coming from across the river!” as he pulled his friend to safety behind a large, squat bush.

The Professor gritted his teeth and glanced as yet another arrow put-down in the exact same spot he and Roxton just vacated. “We’re in cannibal territory. I should have known better!” Blood slowly oozed between Challenger’s fingers where he firmly held the back of his wounded hand.

Another arrow flew over their heads and plunged into the trunk of a tree behind them.

Roxton pulled his rifle, ready to discharge, but a moan from his friend distracted him. He quickly reasoned that return fire could always take place later if it was still necessary. For now they were safe. Pushing the rifle behind him Roxton tugged a bandage from his pack. He promptly took hold of Challenger’s hand, examining it closely. “Just under the knuckles, old boy.” he said, breathing easier. “Not serious but I bet it hurts.”

“It bloody well does, old boy.” An aggravated Challenger imitated. He steadied his own breathing and watched in silence as Roxton wrapped his hand.

Both men abruptly realized that the arrows had stopped flying.

“They got bored rather easily, don’t you think?” Task completed, Roxton slowly stood, holding his rifle, and peered over the bush. He saw nothing and, a bit more comfortable with their situation, once again sat beside Challenger, laying the weapon down beside him. He watched as the learned man flexed his fingers, gauging his condition. “Did you notice something odd?” Roxton asked.

“Yes. Arrows.” Challenger motioned to the shaft stuck in the tree above them. “I’ve never seen cannibals in these parts use anything but spears or the occasional crude hatchet.”

“Not only that, those arrows were sent in intervals. Shoot. Pause. Shoot. Pause. Then shoot again.”

“As if it were one man and not an entire hunting party. They normally travel in packs.”

“A rogue maybe?” Unsatisfied, Roxton crawled over and pulled the arrow out of the ground near them. He then returned to Challenger’s side and studied it with the expert eye of an adventurer who traversed many a savage continent.

“Wood. It looks primal enough.” Challenger estimated.

“Possibly … or maybe it was designed to look primitive. Look here,” Roxton indicated where the bottom of the arrowhead clamped onto its wooden support. “It’s not attached with sap or any other form of glue. It’s pinned together with a very small metal rivet and reinforced with bands of rubber. See it there?”

Challenger squinted slightly but saw exactly what the hunter was talking about, “A little too sophisticated for common cannibals I’d say.” He then looked at Roxton and knew what he was thinking, “But not too sophisticated for Amazons. This is their territory as well.”

The men paused, recalling their past with the women. They were brave, strong, passionate and intelligent. Yet, they could also be dangerous and vindictive. Neither would soon forget the flames they nearly succumbed to when the Amazons deduced their visitors were guilty of treachery. They also could not forget that Roxton, Challenger and Malone almost became fatalities, a meal for the cannibals, simply because of their maleness.

“But George, it doesn’t make sense. The last time we saw the Amazons they were fine with us. We helped them win a battle and we had a mutual understanding …”

“Time and separation has a way of making people forget.”

Roxton looked down once again at the arrow tip, “It’s one thing for the Amazons to protect their territory, wanting to keep away uninvited guests, but it’s quite another thing,” Roxton lifted the arrow once again, “for them to make it look like the cannibals are doing their dirty work.”

“Unless they have something to hide.” Challenger speculated, regretfully.

Roxton lowered the arrow, “Maybe they’ve started a little slavery business of their own, integrating lost and wounded women as well as unsuspecting men …”

“You really think they have Marguerite and are holding her as a slave?” Challenger asked, appearing skeptical. “Despite what we’ve witnessed here, Roxton, I cannot forget the last words Selena said to me. She was determined to find a better way. She was genuinely interested in the Amazons and men living in peace.”

“I don’t know what’s going on, Challenger, but I’m sure as hell going to find out.”

Both men stood now and looked across the river. Their attackers were gone.

“We need to get to that Amazon village as soon as possible.”

Challenger studied the river, “We can’t cross here, Roxton. The current is too treacherous. We better head down river and find a place easier to navigate. ”

Jaw set, Roxton nodded. “So help me, George, if Marguerite is with the Amazons and they have harmed her in any way …”

“She’s a woman and I still say that’s an advantage, John.” He looked down at his bandaged knuckles, “If Marguerite is truly with the Amazons then she is far safer right now than we are out here having to face nature and the natives.”

***

“I love archery!” the girl exclaimed, leading Marguerite to an observation area.

She managed to push them both to the front of a crowd of Amazons and they stood before a short gate. Marguerite found it peculiar that the women were not insulted by the liberty, merely looking at her and smiling, but assumed - because she was a guest and still not one hundred percent healthy - they were being polite.

Marguerite saw Phoebe and watched as the lovely young woman elbowed her way over, “How are you feeling?” she asked brightly when she made it to her side.

“Much better, thanks.”

“Good. We …”

A round of cheering and applause interrupted as three women stood in the arena, in position, with their targets posted a fair distance away. Drawings of a dinosaur, troglodyte and something that looked like a snake with two heads were place in front of the warriors.

“Aello, Eurybe and you already know Labrada.“ Phoebe said, indicating the tall, confident auburn-haired woman. “They are our three best archers. Too bad Xonya didn‘t make it into the finals. She’s usually right up there with the others.”

“Xonya? The tracker?” Marguerite asked, puzzled.

“Her partner, Beline, is actually the tracker. Xonya’s a first rate archer.”

Marguerite found that odd but did not have time to think further. The three women before them had taken their shots and, as determined by a group of four judges, Eurybe was the winner. The Amazon, with her clear chocolate toned complexion and long, wavy black hair took an elaborate bow, savoring her victory, as everyone around her clapped hands and whistled their praise.

Not to be completely outdone Labrada placed mock-angry hands on her hips and called, “I’m much better with poisoned arrows!” which created laughter from her Amazon sisters.

As the women prepared for the next event, a spear throw, Marguerite looked down at the shorter Phoebe, whose attention was on the action on the showground. “You’re not whole, are you?” she suddenly commented.

Phoebe looked up at the newcomer, “What?”

“A part of you is missing …” Marguerite trailed off, losing the thought.

Looking at Marguerite’s confusion for a moment, Phoebe said, “My blood-sister died awhile back. I didn’t think it still showed.”

“I’m sorry.” Marguerite said and found she meant it. “I know you’ll never forget her but as the years go by you will be able to cope better. I don’t remember much of my life but I feel that we have something in common.”

“You lost a sister?” Phoebe asked, grimly.

“Or someone very much like a sister to me.” Marguerite looked down at her boots, uncomfortable with this feeling of shared misery. “I’m still trying to remember and I’m getting impressions I can’t seem to keep to myself … I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“No. I’m glad you did.” Phoebe smiled mildly. “We don’t talk about Thea anymore. It is kind of nice that someone thinks of her. Or, at least, thinks they remember her and me … together.” Phoebe laughed, a little uncomfortable herself.

“Marguerite!”

Hearing her name, Marguerite looked in the direction of the grandstand and saw Selena. She sat up on a tall chair, not too elaborate, but covered with a fine sheepskin throw. Beside the Amazon queen stood Hippolita.

“Come!” she motioned.

Marguerite nodded and walked through the now opened gate, over to Selena and the others in her entourage. She stood directly in front of their leader and nodded shortly.

“How was your sleep? You look wonderful.” she praised.

Marguerite chuckled softly, “Thank you.” She put a hand on her flat-bare midriff. “I’m not so certain I can get used to this.”

“Of course you can. It becomes you.” Selena returned her smile then spoke seriously, “Are any of your memories returning?”

“I think it’s going to take awhile.” an uncommitted Marguerite stated. She detected a very slight change to Selena’s face. If she did not know better she might have perceived the alteration as relief rather than worry.

“No sense in you becoming soft in the meantime.” Hippolita commented, “You should go into the arena and try out a weapon.”

A cheer went up as the women threw their spears. Five of the Amazons were eliminated and five remained.

“Weapons?” Marguerite took her eyes from the competition and looked at the vast array of armaments jut below her, displayed on tables and thick boards.

“You did well with a sword last time we fought together. With a little more practice, you could be a challenge. Like to give it another go, Marguerite?” Hippolita asked, a smile much like a smirk was on her face.

Marguerite raised an eyebrow. “Maybe - but not swords.” she said. Something about Hippolita’s manner and Selena’s silence put Marguerite on her guard.

Respectfully, Marguerite nodded once again at Selena then turned from the women. She walked over to the weapons display. There were swords, long bows, arrows, knives and staffs. There were also shields and body armor. Then Marguerite saw something that truly captured her interest. Slowly, flashing on several quick recollections, Marguerite pulled the weapon from its case.

A long black tail dropped off the table to the ground before her.

“A whip?” Labrada had come to stand by the table and display, leaning on it. Her cool smile had a nearly seductive edge to it. “An odd choice, Marguerite but I like it.” she winked. Marguerite looked up at the tall Amazon, perplexed. Labrada, for some reason, had a way of making her think she was missing some secret insight. On the other hand, maybe it was just her imagination. Mentally, Marguerite was not out of the woods yet.

Hippolita had joined them, “Do you know how to use it?” she asked, sardonic amusement in her tone.

Feeling the weight of the whip’s grip in her hand, Marguerite said: “I suppose we are going to find out very soon, aren’t we?”

***

It had been easier to cross then they thought. A few miles down river and the explorers found a man-made stone path through the river to the other side of the jungle.

Challenger was the first to say they needed to keep their eyes open. There might have been a very good reason why the crossing was placed there and not just so the Amazons, cannibals and other tribes could get across to the other side of the jungle to hunt game.

“More like an ambush for those who would cross to them.” Roxton understood. He held his rifle firmly as he and Challenger moved carefully through the tropical forest.

***

They raised the young woman up in their arms. It was her first win and she was ecstatic. She held her spear high in the air and whooped with joy.

As the Amazon accepted the spectators’ applause Marguerite got a feel for her whip. She raised it, stroked it, and allowed its length to move around her leather-clad body in small loops. Oh yes, this seemed very familiar to Marguerite. It was almost comforting.

A long, tall table was brought into the arena. Several objects were placed on it, about twelve inches apart. There were bottles, a couple of tin cups and what looked like some small statues. Again, she recognized the two headed snake-creature.

“Be careful, Marguerite.” Selena called, “Your wounds have not yet healed. Just a few simple strokes. No more.”

She acknowledged the Amazon queen.

Hippolita stood by Marguerite’s side. Ostensibly she was there to give advice but there was a dare in her tone as she said, “No one will blame you if you fail miserably. After all, you are not a real warrior. A whip is an exciting tool but I’m sure your acquaintance with such weaponry is very limited.”

Marguerite was provoked but said nothing, keeping a calm exterior. She motioned for Hippolita to stand back. A hush came over the arena. All eyes were on Marguerite as she paced in front of the display, sizing up her targets. She then stood still. Slowly at first, twirled the whip in wide semicircles around her body, she picked up speed and the whip began a spin high above her head.

She heard nothing from the outside as she concentrated.

*snap*

A single mug shattered in the middle of the lineup.

*snap*snap*

One statue then the other lay on the ground, snakeheads parted, never to stand as one hydra again.

*snap*snap*snap*

Tin cups flew and glass bottles shattered … and finally …

*SNAP*

… the shelf was cleared.

“Marvelous!”

Marguerite blinked, the silence fading as she saw the audience stand, stomping, cheering and clapping … for her. Both Labrada and Phoebe were by her side, laughing and patting her shoulder -- hopping with excitement.

“You truly are a sister!” Phoebe cried.

“I saw Aseina do that once but she never looked so stylish!” Labrada commented.

Marguerite began to laugh as well. She felt genuinely good if a little light headed. It was quite an accomplishment. She had skills and they were being appreciated. She did not know why she was able to do what she did with the whip but she was content. ‘Perhaps I am an Amazon after all. Maybe I DO belong here …’

Memories of that touch against her cheek and hair, those gentle but manly fingers caressing her, quickly faded to the back of her mind.

Hippolita stood several meters away, unseen by Marguerite during her moment of triumph. At ease, she looked calmly up at her queen from the arena.

Selena, expression pensive but composed, nodded at her most trusted warrior. Yes, they thought, it could work. It had to work.

***

They heard a roar and stood still for a count of fifteen seconds. A T-Rex. They would know the monster anywhere. It was close and it sounded as if it was wound-up and on the attack.

“Where is it?” Challenger called, looking frantically about the jungle, as was Roxton.

“There!” Roxton returned his shout and both men stepped aside, concealing themselves behind the heavy brush as the vibration of said creature’s massive hind legs was felt and heard.

They expected an appearance of the dinosaur but what they did not expect was its screaming prey as he ran past them to escape, with the dinosaur racing right behind him. The would-be victim was a boy of no more than ten years old. His skin was heavily painted and he wore a simple loincloth. Yet, the panic on his face and cries from his throat, were universal.

“He’s a cannibal.” Roxton murmured beside Challenger.

“He’s a child.” The Professor’s tone was compassionate.

“A very young cannibal.” Roxton emphasized.

“A boy who is going to die very shortly in a tragic and painful way if we don’t do something about it!”

Roxton met Challenger’s eyes and he sighed an agreement. No, they could not allow such a young lad to die even if they were possibly saving the life of the man who would attempt to dine on them one day, “What the hell. Let’s go!”

Not far down the path, the painted boy was pinioned quite literally between a rock and a hard place. There was a stone monolith, the side of a large hill, and a jungle so dense even this small human being could not pass through the thorns and thicket in front of him. He could now only turn and look up at the giant monstrosity above him, standing still and looking directly down at him. Somehow, it knew he had nowhere to go.

The tyrannosaurus made a move, as if to nip at the boy, and the terrified child-cannibal reacted in a most explicable way. He fainted.

Shifting, having used this maneuver quite a few times, Roxton darted from behind the gigantic lizard to the left and Challenger to the right. They fired their weapons simultaneously. It would never be enough to kill the dinosaur, its hide being so thick, but the bullets would certainly hurt and if all worked out well, if they made more trouble for it than they were worth, their actions would cause the T-Rex to turn tail and run away.

It was a slapdash but proven method of getting rid of unwanted pests and, for a moment, it appeared to be working. The dinosaur was backing up, ready to flee, when the boy suddenly awoke - saw the T-Rex once again - and screamed loudly.

By this time, Challenger and Roxton were on either side of the child and when the beast focused again, it had three desirable meals instead of one pint-sized nibble.

“Umh, I think it’s drooling, Challenger.” Roxton said nervously, reloading.

“If we’re going to get eaten I say we give the bastard an indigestion he‘ll never forget!”

The men started to fire their weapons again.

***

Exhausted, having done far more than she should for one day, Marguerite was escorted to private guest quarters. Her side ached from the strain she had placed on it and her head felt a little dull and achy (‘Of course, that could be from the wine.’ she thought) but Marguerite was more than happy with her accomplishment this afternoon.

She sighed blissfully.

They had dined after the games and Selena made a toast to their new friend. Everyone enthusiastically celebrated and Marguerite, although she sensed she was not a woman who blushed easily, felt a red tinge warm her face.

“Goodnight, Miss Marguerite.” another of Selena’s servants said and waved as she left her to rest.

The room was smaller than Selena’s bedchamber, of course, but still spacious and lovely. The bed itself had a silk canopy and the sheets, she would soon realize, were made of a similar material. Marguerite removed her boots and sat down on the bed, looking around.

“It was tough getting here,” she whispered, “but maybe it was worth it.”

She had not thought she belonged. She did not think these women could be a part of her future but now it was all so tempting. Selena was openly offering her a place with them … She could learn so much.

Moreover, what if her family never found her? What if … What if they weren’t even looking?

Marguerite pondered this for a moment and as she gazed upward, searching for a sign from the heavens, something odd caught her eye. A piece of parchment paper, a note it seemed, had been stuck with a small dagger high on one of the wooden posts holding up the bed’s canopy. Curious, Marguerite got on her knees on the mattress and reached up to retrieve it.

Sitting once again, she unfolded the note and three very disturbing words greeted her.

GET OUT NOW.

 

End of Chapter Six.