“This way.” the young blonde woman urged their disheveled guest forward.

Marguerite paused just inside the gates of the Amazon community, surprised by what she saw. It was immense. There were watchtowers, a water cistern and numerous gardens on the inside of their fortress. Small homes, huts and buildings dotted the land. Further out, on the horizon, there was a bigger structure, a dwelling of some importance it seemed.

“Our queen’s quarters. “ Hippolita said as if to confirm, tugging at Marguerite’s arm. “We’re going to take you there.”

Hesitantly, urged by Phoebe’s bright smile and Labrada’s easy manner, Marguerite accompanied them.

Women of all sizes, colors and ages were walking, talking and working about the Amazon village. As she moved forward with her escorts Marguerite observed, with wide eyes, all that was happening around her.

Children, young impressionable girls, were in training. They were in various areas of the compound, both in buildings - seen through windows - and outside. Some of the youngsters were frolicking, throwing a discus, and racing one another while others, the older females, were more serious. They were maneuvering through intense exercise routines and balancing on suspended beams of slim, firm wood. Still others were teaching elementary lessons in reading and writing.

Surrounding them were women, a small number were wearing white togas and a few others were in red. Then there were the lean, muscular and athletic women who all wore brief leather costumes, much like these women who had brought her here to their home base.

“Not all of us are warriors.” Labrada said, guessing what Marguerite might be thinking. “Some are teachers and field workers. Some tend the horses and clean our houses. We all have responsibilities.”

“Some more responsible than others.” Lavinia murmured from behind.

Marguerite got the distinct impression she was not supposed to hear the comment and thought it best not to give an indication she did.

“No one feels insignificant here.” Hippolita emphasized, quickly. She had been listening in and watching Marguerite closely. “The skills of our women are immeasurable. We truly are the chosen ones.” she boasted.

Chosen One, Marguerite thought. She liked the sound of that. Yet, for some inexplicable reason the term also filled her with trepidation. Surely, there was a price to pay for being … chosen.

“Good afternoon ladies!” Phoebe called, waving at a group of about a half dozen older women.

They were talking in a circle, baskets held in their arms - with freshly baked breads and carefully picked vegetables. Marguerite tried to make eye contact with them but was surprised to see the women avoid her attempt at connection. Instead, they looked down at the ground or at each other, purposely away from her. There was something in their manner that suggested she was not wanted. On the other hand, perhaps it was something else … anger or even … guilt?

“You’re a stranger.” Phoebe rationalized. “Once they get to know you …”

“Where are you taking me?” Marguerite interrupted, more lucid then she had been for a long while. She was beginning to feel very uncomfortable but she could not honestly substantiate her position. So far these women had been nothing but kind to her.

The perpetually unsmiling Lavinia lifted her brows, “Worried?” she asked, the question sounding like an accusation.

“Cautious.” Marguerite slowly elevated a hand to touch her head, feeling dizzy for a moment. All suspicions aside, she really did need to get out of the heat.

Phoebe allowed the slender brunette to lean on her, “Don’t worry, Marguerite. We are just taking you to see Queen Selena. She will help you, make you better, and then we’ll return you to your own people.”

“That is, if you really want to return.” Labrada inserted, hastily.

Speaking close to Marguerite‘s ear, Phoebe clarified: “Most of the women who come here never want to go back to their dreary lives dominated by ungrateful men. Can you blame them?”

Nearly two hours later Marguerite was awash in pleasure. She rested, body bare and propped against cool stones in a large round bathtub, surrounded by refreshing water. Her hair was washed, wet and clean, by firm yet careful hands. Perfumed oils and bath salts were placed in the bathwater and beside her, sitting on the generous lip of the tub, sat a mug of the most delicious elixir Marguerite had ever drank. At least, that was what her memory told her. The brew made her woozy and warm but also comfortable and open to her new acquaintances.

New and known faces were above her, looking down at their guest, please that she now appeared so content.

Initially, when re introduced to Selena, Marguerite was leery. The Amazon queen was a beautiful and elegant woman with long lustrous dark hair and a complexion of shining porcelain. Despite her sophistication, she had an inner strength that demanded obedience. Marguerite could easily see why she was their leader.

Yet, despite her warm welcome, there was something in the woman’s eyes that hid truth. She appeared to be thinking at all times but not revealing the thoughts that came to her. Moreover she was looking, it seemed, a little too intently in Marguerite’s direction. Or perhaps, because of her earlier misfortune, Marguerite was imagining deceit. The last two days had been a quagmire of bizarre and confusing circumstances.

“Your nerves are on edge. You need to relax and be tended to.“ Selena suggested but it - indeed - took on the sound of a command.

As the bath was being filled with water, a woman in a white toga had taken Marguerite’s damaged clothes and told her kindly that they would be washed and repaired. She then noted the woman’s missing blouse sleeve and, perplexed, said she and the others would repair it the best way possible.

In place of her damaged clothes was left a two piece dark-brown leather warrior outfit with proper under garments and Marguerite‘s now cleaned and polished boots.

Much earlier, just after she arrived in the queen’s quarters and before her bath, Selena herself examined Marguerite’s head wound and the nasty scratches about her ribs.

“How did this happen?” she asked.

“A big …” Marguerite almost said ‘bird’ but that wasn’t right … “A pterodactyl.’ she said succinctly and was suddenly relieved that it seemed so comprehensible. “It picked me up and dropped me. A couple of times I think”

“We will clean and tend to those claw marks before they become infected. Same with the head. You really are quite a woman to sustain such injuries yet still walk through the jungle as far as you have. Did the pterodactyl cause your head wound as well?”

“I can’t …” Marguerite closed her eyes and slowly moved her head back and forth, distressed, “…remember. I think it was men … slavers … terrible brutes.”

“It’s all right, dear.” Selena touched Marguerite’s chin and smiled sympathetically, “You will eventually remember everything. It will take time. Considering all you have been through, attacked by slavers, dinosaurs and cannibals -- all without a weapon -- I think you have done very well for yourself, Marguerite.”

Her eyes opened at the memory of a dead man -- there had been a weapon at some point -- and Selena’s compliment.

“I always felt, from the very first, that you would make a wonderful Amazon warrior, Marguerite. You should consider it. With sisters like us you will never be harmed again.”

The idea was nearly humorous to Marguerite. A few hours previous, she could not even think in complete sentences, let alone speak them, and now here was this accomplished, well-spoken lady telling Marguerite she should become a female soldier of some kind.

Still, even now, as she lay in the tub, languidly pushing the water back and forth, mind still buzzing with the effects of what was in the cup beside her head, Marguerite thought the idea had merit. Independent yet not being alone, having the love of her sisters, the security of their swords, but being her own woman …Still, there was a problem. Something was absent. These women were not her family. She knew that as well as knowing she could not possibly be happy here for an extended time.

“You’re thinking of Roxton, Challenger, Malone and Veronica?” Selena had returned to her chamber after a brief absence while her servants tended to Marguerite. She now watched her resting in the tub.

“Those are my people and they live where I come from.” Marguerite stated calmly, understanding it as true. Yet, she still could not put names to faces.

“Nevertheless, you are not from here, the plateau, Marguerite. You are from the outside. As are they. you are from a different world I’ve been told.”

“England.”

“Yes,” Selena cocked her head to one side, either pleased or surprised by Marguerite’s recollection, “George Challenger told me of England. Do you remember it?”

“Paris … New York … I know the names but I get only fleeting images. And sounds …” Marguerite shrugged, “Nothing makes sense.”

“In time it will.” Selena walked over to a large golden disk held suspended by two velvet ropes.

“If I find Roxton, Veronica and the others,” Marguerite murmured, “maybe everything will fall into place.”

Selena nodded, “We will help you. Your friends must be searching for you. I’ll have two of my best trackers seek them out.” The Amazon queen lifted a thin spoon-shaped object with a fabric-covered tip. She struck it against the disc and a nearly musical reverberation was heard, “Xonya. Beline.” she called over her shoulder.

Straight away, two tall powerfully built women entered the room and stood at attention. “I want you to go beyond the village and search for Marguerite’s people. Bring them here the moment you find them.”

“Yes, Queen Selena.” the tracker with sandy hair spoke respectfully.

“But before you leave I want to have a word with you in private …”

Marguerite watched as Selena walked over to the two women and whispered a few words. From their profile’s Marguerite sensed a bit of surprise but then, when another few words were uttered, the women appeared a bit more at ease. Both trackers nodded at their queen then quickly departed.

Selena once again looked down at the soaking Marguerite, “It is all arranged.” she smiled, “Before you know it Veronica and the others will be here. Meanwhile, you just need to settle back and heal, Marguerite. You’re safe with us.” she assured.

Smiling weakly, unsure if she could ever feel one hundred percent safe and sound again, Marguerite nodded.

Her bathwater was beginning to cool.

****

He crouched and examined the disturbed sand and dirt beside the lake. Some kind of altercation had happened, a skirmish of some significance it seemed, but what confused Roxton and Challenger was the lack of footprint surrounding the disturbed area.

The hunter brushed aside a few twigs and examined the distinct prints in the middle of the disrupted area. They were small, a size seven maybe, and the feet wore boots. He knew they belonged to Marguerite and Roxton could feel the heart beating rapidly in his chest.

“John!” Challenger called, several meters down stream. He held something in his hands.

Roxton approached and was not certain if he should be overjoyed or horrified.

“Marguerite’s blouse sleeve, I think.” Challenger stated, turning the damp material over in his hands.

“She’s leaving signs for us.” Roxton said, glancing up and down the river. “We’re close to finding her. I can feel it.”

“Are you sure?” Challenger asked. He sounded more skeptical than he intended.

Roxton snatched the sleeve from Challenger’s hands, “Yes.” he said, making it clear he did not want to argue, and began to move down stream.

Uncertain but just as eager to find their companion, Challenger followed.

***

She slept deeply for a solid four hours. Marguerite might not have awakened until morning if a girl had not entered the room with a tray of food.

The woman sat up in the large bed, stretching and hardly remembering lying down at all. She looked around, noting the emptied bath and diaphanous bed curtains surrounding her, tied to tall bedposts. Marguerite was still in Selina’s opulent quarters and she looked out a window, just opposite her, and saw that although it was still day the sky was beginning to tinge gray. It was the early side of twilight, she decided.

“Are you hungry?” The girl asked, swiping some ash-blonde hair behind a slender shoulder. She set the tray beside Marguerite on a small table, “Did you get enough rest?”

Marguerite looked down at herself and saw she was wearing a gold colored robe. She remembered stepping from the tub and being draped in this robe. Then she saw the big bed and Selena asked if she would like to rest … and it was such a marvelous idea.

“I brought you some soup and bread. I have a fig pudding here too.”

“Where is everyone?”

“Mock competitions. We do it once a week. They’re all out in the courtyard.”

Marguerite looked over at a chair which held the Amazon clothing she was designated to wear while she stayed here.

“After you’ve eaten perhaps we can go out and watch.” the girl suggested.

Later, Marguerite looked at herself in the full-length mirror and was satisfied with what she saw. Dark leather did something for her. She still was not certain about the bare mid-drift or the shortness of her skirt - quite scandalous actually - but despite this uncertainty and the rather unattractive bandage near her ribs, protecting those scratches against infection, she still cut quite a scintillating figure.

'If only he could see me …' Marguerite thought then hesitated, no knowing who he might be. She looked closely at the fading bruise on her forehead and smiled. “Much better.” she whispered.

***

Xonya and Beline managed to avoid the cannibals all afternoon, not that meeting up with them would have been such a disaster. They still respected the Amazon women and knew better then to cause trouble where it was not warranted. That advantage could change anytime soon but, for now, there was nothing to fear.

“Do you see them, right there, across the river?”

Hidden behind a clump of dense shrubbery, Beline looked to where her partner directed.

There were two men walking down stream, peering into the lake and searching between trees, bushes and anything else they saw. “Marguerite!” they heard the younger man shout.

“Lord Roxton.“ Xonya surmised and acknowledged Beline’s nod.

Both also recognized the auburn-haired scientist. Their queen had become quite infatuated with him for a time.

Xonya lifted her bow and pulled an arrow. She took aim.

“Remember, Selena does not want them dead.”

“I know. Just a nick, A warning.”

“Then we can go home.”

Xonya let the arrow loose and they watched as it reached its intended destination.

 

END OF PART FIVE.