LUMAR

<!LUMAR. PART3. TOO MANY DEADS.>

<!Queen of Lumar survives a fierce battle with suicidal Amazon teens.>

Two days passed before MaryKole and a regiment of her troops finally reached the site of LiudMila's party demise. This time Lumaras were moving through Mylar much slower, trying to avoid mistakes of the previous expedition. Forward patrols were scouting the way ahead of the main force, and light pickets were legging behind to ambush anyone following them. So far they didn't encounter any enemy, neither at night stops, nor on the route. All the time Mixa was riding at the very point, leading the way and checking for danger. Though in her mind she knew that she did right escaping the massacre of LiudMila's party to bring help, a nagging feeling was gnawing her heart that she somehow betrayed the princess and the others by not dying with them. And by taking the most dangerous assignment, she tried to redeem herself at least in her own eyes. MariKole understood Mixa's feelings perfectly well. And, though she liked the brave girl, she let Mixa do what the latter deemed to be right. Anyway, they needed someone riding point, and Mixa, who had traveled this route twice already, was the best choice for the job anyway.

So, Mixa was the first to step out of the woods into that ill-fated clearing again. The camp looked quite differently now from what she remembered seeing last time over her shoulder while spurring the horse and dodging Amazons' arrows. Tents, horses, equipment ' all was gone. Pesky Amazons removed everything they thought to be of any value, leaving behind only bodies ' Lumaras as well as their own ' where they had fallen or been pushed aside. Deads were definitely of no use to Amazons. In a typical display of their cruel pragmatism they believed that jungle could be trusted to take care of those boring debris of war, and Mylar was always only too happy to oblige.

After the troops secured the perimeter, MaryKole and Mixa stood silently over LiudMila's body. The Amazons, gloating in their not-so-subtle sense of humor, put a garland of wild orchids over her head ' Amazons' only wedding dress. And that was it: LiudMila was dead, the rescue mission was over, time to go home. No sense in lingering in this sad and dangerous place any longer.

"Pack ours, leave theirs." With this short order the Queen turned to Suchitra, the commander of Lumara troops. "And let's go."

Within a half-hour all fallen Lumaras were wrapped in white burial gauze and hoisted on to the backs of spare horses. By tradition Lumaras were going to bury their deads by lowering them (or throwing, depending on how one looks at it) down the gorge of a volcano on a small island in Kamalata Bay. Death is the Great Equalizer in Lumaraland. Princesses, warrioresses, even queens themselves ' all are going the same way down the Old Chimney. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust in its utmost.

Before leaving Mixa threw the last glance over the site. Only several Amazon bodies were still littering its otherwise almost pristine emptiness. Nobody wanted those.

Things started happening when they returned to the site of their last camp. Previous night, just after the daylight started fading into quick jungle dusk, Mixa led the expedition to this clearing in the woods. Big, roughly round, it was apparently a site of a middle'sized forest fire about a half-year ago. The scorched earth was now covered with green grass, but the bushes and trees were still indecisively lingering at the edges. The very size and openness made it easy to defend, and they had spent an undisturbed night here, having left the place in the morning as empty and clean as they found it. This time it wasn't empty anymore. A big round tent was standing in the center of the meadow now.

Mixa froze in place and gave a signal to the troops to stop immediately. Suchitra rode up to her.

"What's wrong, Mixa? Why did we stop?"

"It's LiudMila's tent," Mixa nodded toward the clearing.

The big white marquee of princess LiudMila, whose body, wrapped in the gauze, was now fastened to the back of one of the horses behind them, was standing in front of them like a big white ghost.

"What do you think, Mixa?"

"It can be anything. An ambush, or they are just gloating, teasing us."

They looked at the tent for another minute. Nothing was moving neither around it, nor on the rest of the clearing.

"We have to go forward," Suchitra said. "We can defend ourselves there. We are too vulnerable standing here on the trail, too stretched out."

Slowly the caravan moved into the open. At some distance from the tent, Mixa and Suchitra dismounted, drew their swords and continued on foot. When only about twenty paces separated them from the canvas structure, the flaps parted and a tall, slender figure appeared at the entrance. The lady's deeply tanned physique was glowing golden in the noon sun, her black hair collected in a tight ponytail behind was hanging down to her waist. With a quick, practiced movement the stately Amazon inserted an arrow in a big bow in her right hand, drew, aimed and loosed a lighting-quick shot.

This time Mixa knew exactly what she had to do and didn't hesitate. She stepped in front of Suchitra, trying to protect the commander with her own body, and received the arrow square in the middle of her chest. It didn't stop the powerful projectile, though. The force of impact threw Mixa backwards into Suchitra's arms, and the sharp tip of the arrow protruding from her back passed into Suchitra's chest, as well. Two women staggered back a couple of clumsy steps, like some weird four-legged, two-headed creature, and then heavily sagged to the ground in a hideous heap.

The stunned silence was suddenly broken by wild, defiant laughter of the Amazon. Her enjoyment wasn't long. Two arrows simultaneously entered the heart of the beautiful huntress cutting short both her laughter and her life. She went down as if her feet were cut from behind, throwing her arms and legs up in the air. Before her body stopped shivering in the grass, two more bronze figures with bows rushed from inside the tent. This time Lumaras were ready. Both women died before they had a chance to use their weapons. They ran straight into a volley of Lumaras arbalests, got hit in the chests by several arrows each, flipped over in the air and stretched themselves out next to the still grinning corpse of the first Amazon.

And then all hell broke loose! As if some floodgates were thrown open, Amazons started pouring into the meadow from all directions! Their oiled naked bodies glistering golden, their manes and ponytails streaming in the wind, their young breasts bouncing rhythmically with each step, the shining swords in their hands, they looked like charging goddesses of war and nothing could stop this charge! Their long, athletic legs eating the distance with Olympic speed, the hordes of attackers were quickly converging on the doomed Lumaras.

Grossly outnumbered and about to be swamped by this stampede, the blonde warioresses surprisingly didn't panic. By short orders from Mitra and Lida, two sisters, now next in command of the troops after Suchitra's death, they quickly formed two circular ranks, one within another, around the tent where Queen MariKole took shelter. The first rank dropped to one knee, shouldered their crossbows, aimed and fired. The second rank, which was standing behind the first, did the same, giving the first one time to reload. They started repeating the process over, and over, and over again.

Executed with precision and discipline, the maneuver proved to be absolutely lethal. The first rows of charging forest beauties were shot almost point-blank. As if they hit an invisible string stretched at neck level, Amazons were falling backwards in a flurry of arms, legs and bodies. The sharp projectiles were cutting down women as the ran, leaving them twitching and writhing in the grass. The next human wave replaced the fallen and went the same way immediately. Then next, and next, and next- A pile of bodies three, four levels high was quickly forming around the defenders. The first rank couldn't shoot from the knee anymore, and had to stand up, kneeling only to reload. But the attackers kept coming, and coming, and coming in what seemed to be a masochistic obsession, undeterred by groans and gasps from their comrades falling and convulsing around them.

The Amazons staging this furious attack were all very young girls, in their mid-teens, and, hence, absolutely expendable material in Amazonian scale of values. Whipped into murderous frenzy by a potent drink of tropical juices, readily provided by their older sisters, stoned to zombie-like state, they were anaesthetized against feeling any pain or fear. When Lumaras' arrows were impaling their hearts, they didn't even realize they were dying; they were simply discontinuing their earthly existence. So, they kept coming, totally indifferent to their own death. From high above, the whole scene looked like tidal waves of a bronze see with black foam on top coming and braking over a white and golden round rock-

The attack stopped as suddenly as it began, and for only one reason ' the lack of attackers. All those charging goddesses were now sprawled in tall, uneven rows and heaps on the ground, motionless and utterly dead. As always, the blonde warioresses were shooting only to kill, never to wound. A handful of survivors, now sober and scared, were retreating back to the woods.

A quiet order from Mitra and Lida "Charge! Finish them all!" and Lumaras dropped their crossbows, drew the swords and sprang into pursuit. The residual effects of the drug were making the Amazons slow and confused, easy targets for their executioners. Lumaras scattered all over the clearing, running them down and killing, no mercy, no quarter.

The place was literally covered knee-deep with glistering bodies; the annihilation of Amazons was complete. Right? Wrong! The battle was not over yet! A group of about 30 Amazons suddenly appeared from the woods. Armed with crossbows and swords, running in a tight formation, they were making a quick beeline toward the center and the tent, where Queen MariKole was standing watching the battle, now completely exposed and guarded only by Mitra, Lida and several of her bodyguards. Scattered Lumaras who happened to be in the way, couldn't even slow down the quickly advancing group. Having left their arbalests behind when they rushed to finish the last of the attackers, the blondes with their swords were now dead meat for the arrows of ruthless brunettes and were mowed left and right as so much grass.

The Amazons' plan of battle, though so incredibly cruel to hundreds of their own young, was actually beginning to pay off. The raiding party was quickly nearing the target, and they were going to outnumber the guards by about 3 to 1. Mitra and Lida were franticly calling to their troops to come back immediately, the guards were loading their crossbows getting ready to make the last stand, and Lumaras from all over the clearing started racing back knowing only too well that they were already too late. The Amazons' plan worked, no question about it. Except for one unpredicted glitch: too many bodies were piled in the center. The closer the raiders were coming to the tent and the Queen, the more difficult it was to climb, step or jump over prostrate forms lying over each other in steep, well-oiled heaps. The attackers started getting caught in the dense mesh of outstretched arms and legs, sliding on heaved bellies and chests, tripping over longhaired heads with vacant staring eyes, as if the deads were reaching from the other side of the grave to grab those who set them up for this slaughter.

So or not so, but all this was slowing the advancing group down, and the attack began quickly losing its momentum. The more and more Lumaras were arriving, and though, having no crossbows, they were shot before they came close to use their swords, the Amazons couldn't kill them all fast enough. Finally, the assault stopped on its tracks. After intense close quarters fight, the raiding party was quickly finished. Four prisoners were taken to MariKole under heavy guard. Zaira, the leader of Amazons, was one of them. She was tackled down by three Lumaras, after she buried her sword too deep in the chest of one of them and couldn't retrieve it fast enough.

"Who told you that I was coming?" the Queen asked.

Zaira smiled defiantly. "Jungle told me."

"Who told the jungle, then."

"Jungle knows everything."

MariKole nodded. "Birna, do the honors," she said over the shoulder to her chief bodyguard and stepped aside.

The prisoners were lined up next to each other, with Zaira standing first. Birna drew out her extremely thin and sharp dagger, came up to her, and nodded to the guards. Two Lumaras, who were holding Zaira's shoulders and arms, bent her back, pushing her breasts up and apart. With precision of a surgeon Birna inserted her blade to the hilt into the conveniently exposed chest and quickly withdrew. Zaira looked at a thin scratch between her breasts in disbelief. Not a single drop of blood spelt from the wound. Exhaling a heavy sigh she sank to her knees, her head rolled back and she pitched forward coming to rest at Birna's feet. Her heart was cleanly sliced in half deep inside her rib cage. It was one of Birna's favorite tricks, and she knew quite a few of them more. With her foot Birna rolled the prone form over and examined the tiny mark on Zaira's chest. Very pleased with herself she moved on to the next in line. Within a minute all captives were dispatched in the same manner. Lumaras, who watched the execution, showed no mercy or compassion toward the slain. Killing Amazons seemed as natural to them as swatting flies.

Boy, is she fast! MariKole watched the movements of her chief bodyguard with mixture of awe and fear, then turned and walked into the tent.

"Your Majesty!" The Queen turned around to see Birna standing at the entrance behind her.

"What's that, Birna?"

"One of the Zones told me that a green-eyed witch was behind the attack. She thought up the whole thing. The tent, the suicidal teens, Zaira's raid ' everything. Zaira was just a brainless tool."

"Yes, I thought so. Zaira didn't strike me with her mind strength. Defiant ' yes. Smart ' no. And I don't think we'll find our witch in the piles outside. Start preparations. We are leaving soon."

With a short bow Birna left the tent. Finally left alone, MariKole sank into deep reverie. So, Dina was at it again, she thought to herself. The Queen had heard about mischiefs of a green-eyed witch on more than one occasion before. But the girl was getting bolder and bolder and quickly becoming a real pain in the back. And, as a matter of fact, better and better informed, she mused. So, who was a long tongue? Mixa, the only survivor from LiudMila's party? Nah, she was a good girl. And she's dead now. Then who? Then in afterthought, she reflected that it was kind of weird she didn't see Birna talking to any of the prisoners. Not a single word. She just wiped them out like bugs. Not a chatty type our Birna. Does she really think that her Queen is deaf, or blind, or maybe totally brain-dead?

She was woken up from her musings by loud voices from outside. Birna was reprimanding Lida for sending troops after fleeing enemy, leaving the Queen without protection. Lida, MariKole ruminated, she's a good girl. A little too temerarious and passionate, too hasty. Her sister Mitra, she's just a good solder. No planner, either. Too bad that we lost Suchitra.She's the one hard to replace. The argument outside was becoming louder.

"Why don't you mind your own business and leave Amazons to us!" fumed Lida.

"You almost got us all killed, including the Queen! Don't you understand this?!"

Lida knew that Birna was right, but she kept arguing just for the joy of teasing the pompous bitch.

"So you got scared, I see. Well, you are safe now. Relax, Birna, you are getting wrinkles all over your pretty face."

Birna was extremely beautiful, even by steep Lumara standards. 22 years old, tall and slender, with high cheekbones and straight, almost classical features, she could easily become a Lumar princess. She chose to be a warrioress instead, but still, being a woman after all, she liked to be complemented on her looks. But Lida's tone was clearly insulting.

"Watch your mouth, commander! I just might decide to shut it for you!"

"Frankly, I don't see it happening, princess. You might find it a little harder then wasting them." Lida casually jested in the direction of executed Amazons.

To call a Lumara warrioress "princess" was the deepest insult possible! Princesses were just love-toys, not trained to be fighters. With a guttural growl, Birna drew her sword and charged.

O-ho, the girls are really wound up out there! MariKole hurried from the tent. Birna and Lida were seriously at it, fencing like mad between piles of Amazons bodies. Only Mitra was trying to break the fight, the rest of Lumaras just watching passively as two of their commanders were slugging it out.

"Birna! Lida! Both of you! Stop it! Right now!" ordered the Queen.

As if they didn't hear, the girls continued to fight with demented concentration. Trying to backstep Birna's lunge, Lida gave a couple of paces back , stepped on some well-oiled flesh, her foot slipped and she fell backwards on a heap of dead bodies, still clutching her sword. Birna stepped on it and raised her own sword with two hands high above her head, blade looking down.

"NOOOO!!!" MariKole and Mitra rushed to her.

With all her force Birna rammed the sword down into Lida's chest, running it all the way through and pinning her to the body of some dead Amazon beneath. With a gasp, Lida heaved at the waist, shuddered, then fell back and stopped moving.

"Are you out of your mind!? " Breathing heavily, Birna was trying to avoid the Queen's furious glare.

"Go back. Start folding the tent. I'll talk to you later."

Still not looking at MariKole, Birna walked away. Mitra pulled the sword from her sister's chest, knelt down and cradled Lida's head in her arms.

"Oh, Lida, Lida! What have you done! What have you done, sis!" She felt the Queen's hand on her shoulder.

"Don't fall apart, commander. We need you. Organize the troops. Pack ours, leave theirs. We are leaving in half hour. Let's go home."

A half-hour later, the expedition started moving into the woods again. Before leaving MariKole looked over the battlefield last time. Hundreds of nacked bodies were literally covering the meadow from one edge to the other like waves of some dark frozen sea. From where she stood, the dead Amazons looked relaxed, almost peaceful now. So many dead! she thought without satisfaction. Well, at least this herd wasn't going to bother them anymore. Not that it was going to change anything, or bring LiudMila back. There was no happy end to this unending war. She nudged her horse and, surrounded by bodyguards, followed the troops.

Five minutes passed, and a light-brown sinuous form separated itself from one of the upper boughs of an old chinara at the edge of the woods and slid down its callous trunk. For two minutes the young lady stood in its shadow away from the sunlight, two green eyes sparking in the obsidian darkness of the forest like those of a cat. Satisfied that all Lumaras left and were not coming back, Dina sauntered out into the open. She looked around and shook her head in disapproval. Can you believe it!? The idiots blew it, really blew it big time! She examined a gruesome display of sudden death, bodies lying willy-nilly all around her. Well, at least the Queen of the Bitches got a good fright to take home from her jungle trip. And was Birna pissed off! She nailed that bitch but good, like a bug. She giggled with her young ringing laughter, remembering the scene. I bet I'll be hearing from her again before long. Shaking her head, Dina turned and disappeared back in the woods, still smiling.