This Immortal Heart: A Novel of Aphrodite(102)

I stroll into the main camp. The queen sits in front of her tent, her arms and shoulders bare in the gentle sunlight. Behind her, Dorymache kneels, rubbing an ointment into her skin. It smells sharp, slightly bitter, as she works it into the queen’s strong back.

She looks up at me, nodding in greeting. “Riding all day,” she says, “it makes me ache now. When I was younger, I hardly noticed.”

I look out toward the horizon to see another group of hunters heading out. “Your people seem happy,” I say.

“We are.” She leans back into her lover’s touch, like a lioness stretching out in the sunshine, heavy-lidded with contentment.

“I like the way you live,” I tell her. “I’m glad I came here.”

“We’re glad you did too,” she says. “Won’t you stay longer, Goddess?”

It would be so easy. So tempting. But I can’t forget what they told me last night. These are Ares’ worshippers. This is his land, not mine.

“I must go,” I tell her. “You’ll keep your silence?”

“Of course,” she says.

I take a deep breath. “And your god,” I say. “You say he spends his time north of here. How far?”

She shades her eyes to look at me.

“I wish to avoid him,” I say, straightening my shoulders.

She doesn’t ask any questions, only sketches out the distance and direction for me in a few brisk sentences. A river valley where the grasslands give way to elm and birch trees, where blackthorns and wild roses grow.

“Thank you,” I say. “For last night.”

“Come back,” she tells me. “You’re always welcome here.”

Before I leave, I have one more thing to do. I spotted the girl, Melo, lingering at the edges of the camp. I find her now, inclining my head gently to indicate that she should wait for me around the grassy mound, after I bid goodbye to the queen.

I waste no time in getting to the point when I reach her. “I saw you,” I tell her. “With the boy from the tribe your sisters attacked.”

She chews her fingernail, glancing back in the direction of her camp.

“Don’t worry,” I say. “They won’t see us talking together. But tell me, what is it that you want?”

She turns her eyes up to me, imploring. “I want to be with him,” she says.

“Then can’t you stay?” I ask her. “Your queen said that all of you are free to live as you please.”

“No,” she says. “I don’t want to lose my people, or join his. I want to keep riding.”

“And if they knew?” I ask her.

“You heard her,” she says. “My sisters will never accept him or his brothers.”

I frown. “His brothers?”

She nods. “There are more of us who meet.” Her voice is low and urgent. “I’m not the only one. We try to keep our tribes close, so that we can ride out to find each other when the opportunities arise. Only—”

“Then the Amazons attack them,” I finish for her.

“We put them at risk every time.” Her gaze drops to the ground, downcast.

“This boy,” I say. “What do his elders think of this? Do they know?”

“No,” she says. “They try to keep a distance from us; they don’t know how we keep finding them. They left their homes. They didn’t want to live a settled life in wagons, so they struck out on their own. They hoped once to find women of a like mind to them, who would share their taste for adventure.”

I shake my head. “From the looks of them yesterday,” I say, “it seems their taste for adventure is wearing thin.”

“If I could find a way,” she says, “to show the queen that these men aren’t like the others she’s known. That they don’t seek to conquer the Amazons, simply to live peacefully alongside us.”

“Have you tried?” I ask her.

“No.” She sighs. “She’ll think I’m naive. Too young and inexperienced.”

I wait.

“But I know that I love him,” she says. “I know they don’t mean us any harm, and if they did they are no match for us. But you, Goddess.” Her eyes fill with hope. “You could talk to her. You could look into their hearts and see their good intentions.”

“I’m not sure that your queen would be so easily persuaded,” I say drily. “Even by me. I’m not her goddess, after all.”

She hangs her head.

“I can read their hearts, and I will,” I say.

She clasps her hands together. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” I warn her. “You might have to make a choice.”

“What choice?” she asks.

I hold her gaze, frank and open. “Between your people and your love. Think carefully about it while I’m gone, Melo.” I take a deep breath. “Be sure of what you want. You might not get a second chance.”





30


I find the Scythian men leading their remaining horses across the steppe and listen to their conversations.

“We have to stay as far away from them as possible,” one of them is saying as he squints into the distance, his eyes crinkling.