The child awakened and, whimpering, clung to Challenger’s long leg. He might have been a savage cannibal but the boy knew a grown-up - a protective adult - when he saw one.

Both Challenger and Roxton stood, weapons drawn, firing at the T-Rex but the creature’s hide was so thick and resilient the bullets, although painful, did not have the desired effect of making the monster back away.

“They make them even tougher this side of the plateau!” Challenger called between firings.

What would normally have been a welcome relief came with a combination of surprise and trepidation. Just when the dinosaur moved forward, attempting to make an entrée out of Roxton’s defiant form, screaming natives exploded from the jungle about them. They shook their spears and attacked the confused T-Rex with all their skill and strength.

Roxton, Challenger and the boy stood back and watched the scene with a blend of fear and awe. Obviously, the natives had to endure this and other perils often because their tactics were perfection. Some men threw spears and others tossed lit torches. Still others ran beside the T-Rex, distracting the beast from its original intended victims.

Finally, as the T-Rex was diverted, another older native approached from the foliage. He was tall, painted black and white as were all the warriors, but this savage wore a colorful headdress. He carried himself with an air of refinement and authority, befitting his rank, and he watched everything about him with an easy expression.

“The chief.” Challenger clarified.

Roxton nodded.

The boy pulled away from Challenger and ran to him, babbling in a native tongue.

Even as spear points were placed against their backs and the explorers were forced to drop their armaments, Roxton and Challenger were amazed to see the cannibal leader reach down tenderly and touch the child atop his dark, dusty head. The boy and man smiled at one another and a few quieter words were exchanged.

However, when the chief looked upward again, his attention directed at the scientist and the hunter, there was an untrusting and angry heat in his expression. He made a decree to his warriors. Crudely fashioned blades were suddenly placed underneath Roxton and Challenger’s chins.

Beline and Xonya watched from behind their hiding place, a bushy hedge of photinia. The Amazons had been observing Roxton and Challenger since they caught up with them, spying on the men when they crossed the river and moved into the cannibal-infested jungle.

“I think this is where we leave.” Beline whispered.

“Are you sure?” Xonya looked at her friend briefly, “Maybe we should …”

“What? Do you really want to see what is going to happen to them next?”

Xonya looked at the scene a moment longer then bowed her head in regret. Yes, they were men but they were also innocent of any wrongdoing. On the contrary. They were out here - risking lives - trying to save one of their own people. She could respect that. “Very noble.” she murmured. They did not deserve such a horrid ending.

“Come.” Beline motioned with a jerk of her head.

Quietly, the two women backed up and moved away from the clearing. It was time to go home.

**

She did not speak right away of the note when walking thoughtfully out of the main building into the courtyard the following morning. Marguerite had taken the parchment, rolled it carefully then pushed it deep between the two thick feather-stuffed mattresses of her bed. Just before she fell asleep last night Marguerite wondered about the message imparted. Were the cryptic words a demand or warning? Perhaps she had somehow rubbed an Amazon the wrong way? Or maybe, as it seemed with everything in this mysterious land, she had fallen into a situation - in this case with combatant women - she could not trust.

“How are you, Marguerite?” Hippolita greeted, looking up from where she was sharpening her sword against a turning stone. She watched as the slender woman slowly approached her. Marguerite still was not entirely comfortable with the Amazon warrior-wear, Hippolita assumed. She noted how the outsider pulled at the bottom of her short leather skirt.

“Hippolita,” Distracted, Marguerite did not look directly at the Amazon but at the sword and turning stone, “If I were to ask Selena to lend me a couple of her warriors, to help me go home, do you think she would do it?”

Looking up at Marguerite, cocking her head to the side and lifting her sword to then examine the blade, Hippolita said, “That’s exactly what she plans to do once you’re better.”

“I feel fine now.” Marguerite stated, almost too firmly.

“Don’t you like it here?” Phoebe unexpectedly came up from behind, appearing slightly hurt. “After last night I thought you were one of us.” She came to stand beside Hippolita who lowered her sword and was now looking at Marguerite with an expression which was unreadable.

Surprised by the sudden appearance of the young woman Marguerite said, “You all have been very kind to me,” She switched her attention intermiently between Hippolita and Phoebe, “Last night, with the games and party afterwards, I really did feel as if I belonged … but this is today.” Marguerite paused. Was it her imagination or had the Amazon village suddenly grown quiet around her as she spoke? “I need to know where I came from and who my people are.” Marguerite looked up and about. It honestly did seem as if everyone, although still busily working on their various chores, had grown quiet and was listening in on their conversation.

“Did you ever stop to think,” Hippolita spoke in a calculated but advising tone, “that the only reason you think you belong with Veronica and the others on the outside is because you’ve been living with them for so long?”

Marguerite’s eyes narrowed slightly, confused. “I don’t …”

“A woman with your talents should be with others who can really appreciate you.” Phoebe encouraged, slightly brighter in tone than the serious Hippolita.

Marguerite nearly opened her mouth to speak but was interrupted.

“Be honest with yourself, Marguerite.” Hippolita continued, undaunted. “Out there you are a decoration to be used and abused. Here you have purpose. You are a woman and have the makings of a damn fine warrior. You can prove yourself with us. Not out there,” She lifted a hand to make a sweeping gesture beyond their gates, “constantly fighting dinosaurs - not to mention sparring verbally and possibly physically with men who are far inferior to you - just waiting around for a way to leave the plateau.”

'Leave the plateau?' Marguerite thought about this for a few seconds. Yes, she‘d very much like to leave the plateau but, for the moment, could not reason why it was so important to do so. She latched onto what Phoebe had said earlier. “I’m sure I’m appreciated and not just a decoration. They’re family …’

“Then why did they, this family of yours, permit you to be in a position where you could be hurt by men …” Labrada, fresh from teaching some teenage Amazons lessons in hand to hand combat, approached Marguerite and her sisters. She had a tan towel in her hands, patting away the perspiration on her neck and chest. “And where is this Challenger, Malone and Roxton, Marguerite?”

Hippolita said, “If they really valued you as we do then they would have found you long ago.”

Marguerite looked up and about and realized several Amazons had joined them, standing just behind Labrada. There was an intent look in some of their eyes that she found disconcerting. Why did they all seem so determined to have her stay? Was she really, after only a couple of days, that cherished by these women? Wariness weighed heavily in the back of Marguerite’s mind.

The note hidden between Marguerite’s mattresses came back into consideration. If everyone was so anxious for her to stay then who wanted her to leave? She knew this might be a good time to bring up the warning to the Amazons but something told Marguerite it would be wise to keep silent just a little while longer.

“In your heart you know you’re one of us.” Labrada placed a hand on Marguerite’s slender shoulder and looked almost longingly into her eyes. “If after awhile you still believe you don’t belong here then leave in good health. We’ll help you.”

Feeling pressured and suspicious yet also strangely flattered, Marguerite nodded slowly. She allowed a weak smile that would never convince those who knew her best but for the Amazons, for the moment, it satisfied. Marguerite watched as the women grinned and signaled their approval. A few broke away and continued with their own daily duties.

“Come with me,” Gently, Labrada took Marguerite by the arm, “You can help me string bows.”

Agreeing, Marguerite paused shortly. She looked over, near an outbuilding, where a few mature women stood, baskets in hand. They were talking together and had been observing Marguerite and the younger women. They all wore cheerless and some might even say very concerned expressions. One woman with graying hair but a youthful face looked imploringly at her friends. An uneasy affirmation was exchanged between the women and then they too went about their business.

***

“Nice knowing you, George.” Roxton called.

The Chief barked an order and spears were lifted, directed dangerously at the explorers.

The boy, suddenly alarmed, cried out to the chief and began to speak quickly by his side.

“Do you know what he’s saying?” Roxton asked Challenger who was studying the scene with an earnest effort to comprehend, “Marguerite would have a clearer understanding but as far as I can hear the boy is explaining to his grandfather that we saved his life. He‘s asking for leniency.”

“Good boy. You’re sure about the leniency?”

Challenger shook his head, “Either that or he’s offering up a good recipe.”

The chief looked down at his grandson and grudgingly nodded. He then growled another order, sounding just as fiery as the first, and the spears were lowered. He walked with the boy by his side, confronting the explorers, and spoke a few words of his native language.

Seizing the opportunity, Challenger spoke also, incorporating the Kiko dialect along with another he had learned from some obscure tribe he had once visited in the eastern region of South America.

The chief’s eyes widened and a chuckle escaped him.

“What did you say?” Roxton asked.

“Tell you later.” was Challenger’s reply.

Smiling, the boy picked up the men’s weapons and handed them to Roxton.

The chief placed a firm, meaty hand on Challenger’s shoulder and turned him about, facing him in a westerly direction. He pointed, spoke another few sentences then indicated he and Roxton should leave before he changed his mind.

Challenger nodded at the cannibal leader.

Minutes later as Roxton and Challenger were walking deeper into the jungle, the hunter said, “I don’t want to do that again. Now, will you tell me what it was all about?”

“The chief said we are spared and he wished us a safe journey. He then told me he was grateful for us saving the heir to his throne.”

“Then?” Roxton urged, knowing there had to be more.

“He asked me what brings us onto their land and I told him we were in search of a woman.”

“Is that what made him laugh?” Roxton arched an eyebrow as they walked.

“Yes, seems that his men had a run in with her and she put up quite a fight …”

“What!?“ Terror suddenly overcame Roxton at the mention of Marguerite and the cannibals. He stopped their walk and grasped Challengers arm, “Marguerite …”

“Relax, John.“ Challenger assured, “She got away with the help of the Amazons. He’s pointed us in the right direction to their village and topped it off with three words that were very similar to: ‘It’s your funeral.’ and he‘s sure he‘ll be seeing us again.”

“Hopefully not served up as dinner ... But you’re sure she’s okay?“ Roxton was firm.

“He really has no reason to speak a falsehood, John. He could have killed us right there if he was a leader without honor.”

The men started walking again.

“I hope you’re right, George.” Roxton huffed tersely, “But if you’re wrong and he’s lied I know a certain plateau cannibal tribe that is going to be facing certain extinction.”

In this case, Challenger did not disbelieve Roxton for an instant.

***

“You’re very good.” Labrada encouraged, glancing behind Marguerite at the pile of bows she had strung within the last half hour. “You’re a quick study. Some Amazons never learn to string a proper bow.”

They were sitting on a bench together in the primary artery of the village, right across from the main gates. Marguerite recalled walking through those gates when she first entered the village, looking all about her in a daze. It was strange how so many things from the last few days were forgot, were perhaps better off forgotten, but the moment she walked into this village everything started to make some kind of sense again.

Perhaps the women were right; she had been mistaken about that other life she thought she desperately needed to know about. Even now, the images with those faces Marguerite could not quite see were fading. Even the caress of that hand on her cheek, as tantalizing as her memory made it, was becoming nothing more than a vague remembrance now.

Marguerite was still apprehensive about her surroundings, about the women who were helping her, but she started to realize that this doubt could be a part of her nature rather than rational thinking. She could not get passed the fact that the Amazons had been nothing but kind to her since her arrival … unlike so many others …

Marguerite felt eyes on her as she daydreamed and worked. She looked up.

Labrada was staring thoughtfully at her and smiling.

“Something?” Marguerite asked.

“You really are very beautiful.” Labrada stated boldly, “I thought so when we first saw you and I think it right now.”

Marguerite was intrigued by the Amazon’s manner. It was not merely that she thought Marguerite attractive but that she appeared to have an agenda. “Labrada, I don’t remember everything in my past life but I still have intuition.” Marguerite tossed a bow behind her then clasping her hands in front of her, laying them on her lap. She met the woman’s eyes and spoke just as candidly, “Are you trying to seduce me?”

“Would it bother you if I was, Marguerite?”

Marguerite paused a moment, no truly taken aback by the question but thinking about it for a few seconds before mustering up any kind of reply. She liked the brash redhead and did not want her to become an enemy, or hurt her feelings, because of misspoken words.

Taking encouragement and a small advantage of the hesitation, Labrada leaned forward and kissed Marguerite very gently on the mouth then pulled back to gauge her reaction, “Did that disturb you?” she asked, amused by the newcomer’s air of calm bemusement.

“No,” Marguerite softly cleared her throat. Labrada was not making this any easier. “I don’t think disturb is the right word.” Marguerite had an inkling that she must have once lived in a place or time when such openness was not considered normal. Yet, memory loss or not, Marguerite did consider herself a forward thinking woman. However, all things considered, she did not include herself as a participant in the type of relationahip Labrada’s was offering -- as persuasive as she was.

Marguerite looked into the other woman‘s eyes and spoke as gently as she could, “No, it didn’t upset me, Labrada, but I’m afraid it also did not stimulate either.” Marguerite watched the smile fade from the Amazon's face, “I’m sorry.”

Disappointed, Labrada pulled back and lifted another bow to string, “Too bad.” she said, not looking at Marguerite but concentrating on her duty. “However, I am not going to consider myself thwarted. Give it a little time, Marguerite, and you may just change your mind. We do not get many men around here. They’re few and far between so a little intimacy between friends once in awhile is not necessarily an unheard of or unwanted way to pass time.”

Marguerite chuckled without a reply then went back to work. After a few moments she said, “Thank you.”

Curious, the auburn-haired warrior looked once again at Marguerite, “For what?”

“For still considering me a friend.”

“Of course.” Labrada spoke softly, gazing at the brunette beauty’s profile.

Fifteen minutes later the tall gates opened. Beline and Xonya entered the village. On their way to see Queen Selena they passed by Marguerite and Labrada who looked up at them curiously.

“How did it go?” Labrada called.

“We saw no one.” Beline replied curtly, glancing at Marguerite, but the women continued their walk without stopping.

A disillusioned Marguerite sighed, lay down a bow on the bench, and stood. She followed the women to see Selena.

‘You’re strong. You will come back to us.’ Labrada thought, hiding her broken heart and knowing something Marguerite did not. ‘I know you will.’

***