Kira

By Charles Cone

In 1017 BCE, an Amazon warrior flees from her people for crimes spawned by her reckless passion. Kira must now face a world dominated by men alone, as well as the weight of her own misdeeds.

Facing challenges on every step of her journey, Kira battles external forces and her own demons within. Finally, Kira must look back at her life to examine how the choices that she made along the way led to her current circumstances.

Along this fast-paced and emotional adventure, the protagonist finds herself and her place in the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Austin Macauley Publishers
• Release date: Jul 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645364580

Charles Cone

Charles Cone has lived in the Bronx, New York, for the past 20 years. He has worked as an IT Network Administrator for the past 15 years. He enjoys cooking, reading, and dining out in the New York area.

Book preview

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About the Author

Charles Cone has lived in the Bronx, New York, for the past 20 years. He has worked as an IT Network Administrator for the past 15 years. He enjoys cooking, reading, and dining out in the New York area.

About the Book

In 1017 BCE, an Amazon warrior flees from her people for crimes spawned by her reckless passion. Kira must now face a world dominated by men alone, as well as the weight of her own misdeeds.

Facing challenges on every step of her journey, Kira battles external forces and her own demons within. Finally, Kira must look back at her life to examine how the choices that she made along the way led to her current circumstances.

Along this fast-paced and emotional adventure, the protagonist finds herself and her place in the world.

Dedication

This book is dedicated to my father, James Cone. Without his guidance, love, and support, this book would not have been possible.

Copyright Information

Copyright © Charles Cone (2019)

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher.

Any person who commits any unauthorized act in relation to this publication may be liable to criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Ordering Information:

Quantity sales: special discounts are available on quantity purchases by corporations, associations, and others. For details, contact the publisher at the address below.

Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication data

Cone, Charles

Kira

ISBN 9781641826501 (Paperback)

ISBN 9781641826518 (Hardback)

ISBN 9781645364580 (ePub e-book)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2019935780

The main category of the book — Fiction / Historical

www.austinmacauley.com/us

First Published (2019)

Austin Macauley Publishers LLC

40 Wall Street, 28th Floor

New York, NY 10005

USA

[e-mail]

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Acknowledgement

Thanks to Kelly Brown-Douglas, Jeannine Giordano, Marjorie Oliver, James Cantrell, and Karen Murphy.

Chapter 1

1017 BCE

Kira ran as she had never run before. Her sandaled feet carried her swiftly over the ground as the late morning sun fast approached its zenith over the harsh open plain. The bright morning light seemed to clearly illuminate her heinous crimes in her mind’s eye, which weighed on her conscience like the world on Atlas’s back. Surely, the Furies were howling in pursuit of her, seeking to exact their wrathful retribution. Kira dared not glance over her shoulder for fear of catching sight of those avenging spirits, an opponent that she could not defeat with spear or bow as she had so many others in the past.

Her life had come to this, a desperate flight all through the bitter evening and into the morning from the only way of life that she thought she would ever know. Her warrior training had begun at an early age and had hardened her body to the rigors of a hard run but nothing in her life could have prepared her for the overwhelming grief and despair that she now felt. Yet compounded with these feelings, there was still another emotion that stalked her that morning. It loomed over her and dwelt deep within her all at once, now rising like bile in her throat threatening to choke the life from her. It was an emotion so rarely indulged by a warrior and still it circled every battlefield like the great carrion birds waiting to pick the flesh from the bones of the fallen.

Guilt swam through her mind. It tempted her to turn and face the Furies, to turn and embrace their righteous vengeance. She felt guilt for the life that she took in defense of her own and guilt for the life that she took as a mercy. While the Furies pursued her, guilt held her firmly in its grasp. Walking the warrior’s path, Kira had always been able to barter her guilt away. The lives of her fallen enemies were traded in defense of her own. Those lives had been exchanged for the protection of her clan and they had been bartered in service to her queen. Though many shades had crossed the River Styx into the Land of the Dead due to her skill at arms, none had ever resonated with such soul-crushing guilt as the two lives that she took just last night. A strong wind suddenly whipped up, forcing her to focus on her surroundings.

Dusty flat lands with sparse shrubs extended in every direction as far as the horizon. The dust of these plains had clung to every aspect of her life, persistent, pervasive, and inescapable. It had to be constantly washed from her hair and clothing. Continuously

scrubbed free from the grooves of her hide armor and swept clear from her modest dwelling in her former home. It was everywhere and now it swirled about her in the wind, obscuring her vision as well as her trail for any who might be in pursuit of her now or in the near future.

Her pace never slacked as she fought down the fear that was rising in her chest. She forced herself to consider the terrain before her. Her course was still true, she reasoned, as her controlled momentum propelled her onward over the barren landscape. Again, her thoughts turned inward to consider the emotions, which threatened to consume her. The lives she took were not the full extent of her crimes. She had also defiled a sacred offering to her goddess with wanton malice of forethought. All this tragedy had spawned from a single source. It was that one feeling which drove all of humanity from the joys of the greatest heights all the way to the brink of ruin. It was desire.

Only last night, her heart had been filled with a different kind of emotion as she danced in joyous celebration with the sisters of her clan. They were the fierce warrior women known to all as the Amazons. Their martial society was steeped in the traditions that flowed back to the dawn of civilization. Women were the progenitors of humanity and their divine connection to all life ratified their right to rule over men. This was one of the core principles of Amazon society and yet they still formed key alliances with the male-dominated kingdoms all around them without compromising their tenets or beliefs. With the fall of Troy and its federation of aligned city-states in Anatolia to the wrathful Greeks, the Amazons lost their strongest allies and trading partners in the region.

In the century that followed the conquering Greeks set up colonies along the western coast of Anatolia further constricting the Amazon nation and so the slow erosion of their power and traditions began. Now their borders were under constant threat by migrating tribes and aggressive land hungry city-states. Where once protracted relationships with men were strictly forbidden, more and more Amazons looked outside of their culture and formed lasting bonds with men for reasons other than just procreation. With the influx of men as traders, artisans, and paid laborers into the Amazon nation, this only served to further the erosion of their culture. Still the Amazon nation continued to hold its own and even thrive under these changing conditions as was best exemplified by the city of Perdue in its southernmost region.

The celebration in Perdue on the previous evening was a glorious highpoint for Kira’s city. It was a night of revelry for all of her warrior sisters and the most prominent citizens of Purdue. The thriving city was a fast-growing blend of eastern and western architecture and culture. Eastern stucco homes were now blended with barracks, public baths, and a cistern system of Greek design to meet the needs of her expanding city and its growing population. Amazons did not assign much value to the abstract concepts of architectural beauty but the Greek and Asiatic artisans still strove to design their new structures so that they melded within the eastern architectural landscape. Their efforts had met with mixed results. The Doric columns did not always blend with eastern archways but one aspect was made perfectly clear. Perdue was growing in majesty and last night’s celebration was intended to mark this fact.

Dressed in light revealing robes, which clung to her sweat-drenched body like a second skin, Kira had danced with reckless abandon. Ever moving, entwined with her clan sisters they flowed and undulated around the huge newly sculpted statue of the Earth Mother. Kira had lost herself to the soft rhythm of the harp and the static beat of the drum. Only the dance remained, guiding her movement in its fevered pace. Kira gave all of herself to the movement, transcending her thoughts and her body as that part which defined her rose in celebration to the Earth Mother, their patron deity.

Gaia, the Earth Mother, was the originator of all life, both mortal and divine. She was a principal member of the old gods also known as the Titans. She was the wife of Cronus, lord of the old gods. Through her betrayal of her lord and husband, she helped to usher in the age of the new gods.

Gaia had four children born from Cronus. Fearing their power, Cronus devoured the first three as they were born. Zeus, the fourth child born of the Earth Mother, escaped this fate when Gaia substituted a rock to be consumed by her husband in the place of her newborn. Zeus secretly grew in godly power, eventually casting down his father, freeing his siblings from Cronus’ belly and replacing the Titans with a new pantheon of gods. Still Gaia endured since her power over all life was perpetual. While all the gods were to be respected and feared, the Earth Mother was forever bound to the Amazon way of life. She would always guide the thoughts, faith, and culture of Amazon society.

***

Last night, Kira had let the Earth Mother guide her spirit in the dance but in her mind the seed of betrayal germinated and sought to take root. The betrayal of her goddess was like a vine, its movement so slow as to be imperceptible and yet it progressed steady and sure, culminating on this night. While Kira could not mark its progress in her heart, she surely knew its point of origin. It was the night that she first encountered Gore the prisoner.

Kira recalled that night so many moons ago like it had just occurred. She had been on patrol that evening as a misty rain did little to improve her already sour mood as she walked the interior of the stockade wall, which encircled Perdue. The mud that slowly formed on the ground sucked at her sandals with every step and it chilled her feet as it squished between her toes. This base patrol duty was far beneath her station as Amazon nobility and what’s more as the War Heroine of Perdue. Kira’s light hide armor was quickly saturated with rain and clung to her uncomfortably, giving off a slightly pungent scent. On she trudged that night, fuming inwardly at the petty vindictiveness of Coral, the High Priestess, who had personally assigned Kira to this duty.

Only seventeen winters had passed since her birth but despite her youth, she had accomplished more in that short span than most Amazons did in a lifetime. Her skill with spear, shield, and bow was unrivaled in the region and was fast becoming the stuff of legend throughout the Amazon nation. Her weapons were as much a part of her as her limbs and these extensions of her appendages obeyed her will with equal alacrity. Her skills extended far beyond the edge of her weapons as she had proved herself to be an able war leader and brilliant strategist. Perdue controlled the southernmost territory of the Amazon nation and the warrior maidens of Perdue reigned over their territory with ruthless efficiency. A long string of military victories against southern tribes and powerful city-states had left their supremacy in the region unquestioned.

Kira’s able leadership had played a pivotal role in her people’s martial dominance. Kira knew firsthand the power that envy could wield even over the most noble of characters and the High Priestess Coral was wrapped firmly in its grip. Before Kira’s arrival and Perdue’s subsequent rise in majesty, Coral had been the shining light of the small struggling town that was Perdue. Having her light dimmed and her fame eclipsed by a war maiden who was less than half her age left a bitter taste in her mouth. Now Coral never missed a chance to bring the newcomer down a peg whenever the opportunity presented itself.

So, Kira walked her patrol route and gritted her teeth as the shadows coalesced beneath the wall. Her only weapon was a light spear that she had seized from the guard tower at the main gate. The half dozen Amazons on duty at the gate were laughing boisterously and enjoying a late supper of roasted mutton and watered wine when Kira marched into the guard tower and snatched a spear from the rack of weapons. One glance at their former commander and all gaiety fled the tower. She was gone as fast as she had appeared but the somber mood that she had evoked remained with her warrior sisters throughout the rest of the night.

Kira knew that when she wore her anger plain upon her face, it produced fear in anyone who had ever seen her in combat. There was a rage that lived deep within her. It was malignant, solitary, and patient. It lurked deep within her like an angry spirit waiting for the chance to wreak bloody havoc on her foes or those it deemed as such. It bared its teeth in her ruthlessly executed ambushes. It reared its head when Kira was hard pressed in the thick of battle and it struck fear in friend and foe alike.

This night her rage walked beside her in a deliberate attempt to poison her mind against the High Priestess and Kira paid heed to its insidious argument. Almost lost in thought and steeped in anger, she only just perceived a depth to the shadows along the wall that struck her distracted mind as wrong. A shadow moved, and despite the mud and rain, Kira’s feet moved with it. She only just noticed the oddly shaped object clutched in the shadow’s hand as she spun away, trailing her long hair behind her, spraying droplets of rain water in her wake. Her balance was sure and her form was flawless. She completed her turn, slamming the shaft of her spear into her spectral assailant’s ribs with bone-breaking force.

In the flashing light of Zeus’s thunderbolts, his mud-stained tunic marked him as a slave. He stood there frozen. Seemingly trapped in time by the pain of his shattered bones. Even as the large rock he had clutched slipped from his fingers, Kira’s movement never ceased. With a dancer’s effortless grace, she brought her spear’s shaft around again and swept his legs out from under him. He was deposited flat on his back, splattering mud in every direction. Before he could blink, Kira’s spear tip was pressed to his throat pinning him to the ground.

Now her rage was beside her once again as she stared down the shaft of her spear into the fallen man’s eyes. It urged her to seek the sweet release that was only a hair’s breadth away from the sharp blade of her spear. It cajoled her to extinguish the helpless life before her as he would surely have ended hers. As she stared into his dark brown eyes, a curious calm came over her and held her anger at bay. There was humor in his eyes mixed with the slightest hint of admiration but it was the absence of fear that stayed her hand and quelled her rage. None who faced her in battle failed to note the demon that prowled just behind her eyes and only in the bravest did it fail to produce fear.

Kira banished her rage back to the pit of her stomach and continued to stare down at the man lying prone beneath her blade. His wet tunic clung to his well-muscled body and powerful arms. Every inch of his exposed skin was coated with clay like mud, which did not dissolve in the steady rain. Only his eyes betrayed his humanity to her sight. How this slave had accomplished his camouflage and escaped the slave enclosure were now mysteries to be solved and Kira knew that she would have her answers.

Kira marked the rapid approach of four heavily armed Amazons without taking her eyes from her prisoner. The closing sound of their heavy footfalls splashing on the rain-soaked ground meant that all of the women wore full armor, breastplates, greaves, and sturdy bronze shields. Their leader called out to her.

Stay your hand, Kira! Do not kill him! This one is destined to serve at the Earth Mother’s feet, she said and the four war maidens quickly surrounded the fallen man with their spears at the ready.

Kill him you say? I should slaughter whichever fools were guarding the slave enclosure this night! Kira retorted and the demon within flashed malevolence behind her eyes. Two of her sisters turned pale under their helms and a third took a defensive step back and Kira realized that she was talking to those very fools.

Their leader stepped forward and Kira saw that it was Lena, an able and experienced charioteer. She was aptly hiding the fear that hid in the corners of her eyes as she spoke.

We… she began.

Silence! Kira shouted, turning from her sisters and storming off into the rain-soaked night.

***

That night was when they met and the seed of betrayal was sown. He was not a slave after all but a prisoner who was being held as a potential candidate to court the Earth Mother. Such men were always taken in battle against the Amazons, and during the fight, they must have displayed extraordinary courage to even be considered for the sacrificial honor. Kira learned that as a candidate, the prisoner belonged to the Earth Mother and was in fact a ward of the High Priestess, one of her mortal representatives.

Had she known deep down in that secret place where her rage resided that the man she nearly killed was a prize of the High Priestess? Is that why the urge to kill him had been so compelling? She had fought in the skirmish with his Thracian warband but had not been present at his capture. These thoughts swirled within her mind as she entered the slave enclosure the following day.

The fetid odor of unwashed humanity immediately laid siege to her senses as her heavy sandals crunched down on the dusty gravel, which carpeted this part of the city. The slave pins consisted of huge wicker cages filled with women and children in varying states of declining health. Fear, anger, and despair were written on every face. Their postures were etched with sorrow as they huddled close to one another seeking comfort in their shared calamity. Children clung to their elders and stared at Kira as she passed with hollowed out eyes perched within sunken faces.

The slavers who managed the upkeep of the slaves and maintained order in this small section of Perdue did so on a budget meant to maximize profits and minimize expenses. As a result, the slaves ate only enough food to keep them alive until they were sold at auction in the markets of Perdue. Equipped in her best armor, hardened black leather overlaid with iron ring mail, she appeared to be the living embodiment of the reason why every last slave in the enclosure was in bondage. They were of different ethnicities, nationalities, and cultures, which all shared a common thread. Their people had come into direct conflict with the Amazon nation, culminating with disastrous results. Kira marched on past the cages as their occupant’s animosity reached out for her in wordless impotent rage. Beyond the cages, the men were kept. Shackled to posts and surrounded by armed slavers. Most of their faces were vacant, as though their spirits had flown along with their freedom and all that remained of them was a soulless shell. On only a few faces did she note a defiance that still lived, waiting desperately for a chance to regain all that was lost or to die trying in the effort.

Though she was born to Amazon nobility, Kira had been raised in a household free of slaves. Her mother had disdained their use in her home. Only paid Amazons were fit for service in her household and generally only those who had served under her on the field of battle. Slaves were never to be trusted, she often counseled her daughter and no society would flourish which became too bloated with them. Her mother’s point of view represented an odd paradox to Kira, considering her mother’s able generalship of Amazon forces over the years had resulted in the enslavement of thousands.

Kira arrived at her destination, a small oblong structure made of smooth stone and painted green with a dome of gold to honor the Earth Mother. Slaves who served in Gaia’s temple were housed here. Two Amazons stood on guard and one smiled broadly under her helm at Kira’s approach.

Greetings, Commander, she said. Her tone was warm and inviting.

I’m that no longer. Greetings, Dawn, Kira replied.

I hear tell that last night you recaptured our honored guest. Wily in the extreme that one is and lethal as Cerberus unchained. Last night was the second time that he escaped us. The first time required four days and a score of Amazons to bring him to heel. I realize that you thrashed him soundly but still be on your guard with him, Commander.

By way of reply, Kira hefted her only weapon, a spear of exquisite design and craftsmanship. The wood of the shaft was from a tree unknown in this region, its bark was light and yet as hard as iron. The wood was carved with almost hypnotic designs, which seemed electric to Kira’s touch. The spear’s blade was long, wide, and engraved with runes. Its edge seemed to always remain razor sharp and required only the minimal use of a wet stone. Legend has it that the Earth Mother herself imbuing the spear wielder with her power and wisdom had etched the ancient runes, which ran the length of the spear’s blade. The weapon was prized throughout the Amazon nation and had been presented to Kira by the queen.

The aroma of burning incense stood as a bulwark against the stench, which sought to pursue Kira within as she entered the building through its heavy wooden doors. Stray bits of straw littered the floor throughout the large open interior. Light was filtered in through cleverly constructed openings in the dome far overhead, which allowed light in but still managed to keep the elements out. Two young un-blooded Amazons sprang to their feet from the bench where they had been enjoying their morning repast of bread, butter, and salted meat.

How may we serve you? the older of the two inquired in a firm confident voice. Both stood straight and at the ready, clearly trying to impress the Heroine of Perdue. Their weapons and armor were of good quality, owing mostly to the recent upswing in fortune for all who resided in the city.

You may go, Kira replied as she continued past them and the small burning cauldron of incense. On either side of the chamber were rows of bedding stuffed with straw. Near to the end of the chamber, there were a dozen wooden posts planted in the floor half the height of a man with large iron rings mounted on top. The prisoner was seated upright on the floor with his back to one of the posts. Heavy shackles enclosed his wrists and their chain ran through the ring at the top of the post. His skin had been scrubbed free of the mud, which had cloaked his body in shadow. All that remained of his camouflage was discolored stains here and there on his flesh. He was afforded a loincloth as his only garment and the bindings wrapped tightly around his chest. Extensive bruising extended in all directions from under his bindings where Kira had struck him the night before.

As she approached him, he watched her as a serpent patiently watches its prey. With the departure of the young Amazons, Kira and the prisoner were alone as the morning light refracted through the openings in the dome high above them. She sat cross-legged before him, placing her spear on the ground just out of his restricted reach. Slowly, his eyes narrowed as recognition took root there and the wisp of a smile touched his lips.

Your arms and armor are much improved since last we met only a few short hours ago. Is this finery a reward for my recapture? he asked. His tone was friendly and inviting reminiscent of longtime companions sharing tales of old.

Kira smiled ruefully as she caught herself almost answering his question. Her anger stirred but it balked at her own foolishness and she kept it hidden behind a smile.

Twice over you escaped from this place when none have ever done so in the past. Both times, the details of your escape remain veiled in mystery. Your gods must favor you. As she spoke, Kira tried to extend the warmth of her smile to her eyes but was unsure of her success.

If that were so, surely, I would not still be here, he replied, broadening his smile to match her own. She focused on his lean hardened face. A square cut jaw full mouth and piercing brown eyes gave away nothing to her sight except friendly camaraderie. She could just perceive the discomfort he felt from his injuries in the furrowed lines in his brow but nothing else. He too was young and seemingly full of life. Less than a half dozen winters separated them in age despite the experience that showed in the lines of his face and the depths of his eyes.

It’s true that I know little of the gods or those whom they favor but you escaped your shackles not once but twice and came within a hair’s breadth of felling me with nothing but a stone. Your veil of shadow was more impressive still. Perhaps you would share with me, your humble would-be victim, its miraculous composition?

Kira matched his tone and friendly inflection as she spoke to him. Even though the mood she fostered was contrived, it was still effortless and it felt natural talking with him like she would an old friend.

You flatter me for no good cause. I was as far from felling you as I am from the noonday sun. Deeper into the shadows, I should have slunk when you passed my way, and perhaps I would still be enjoying my freedom this hour.

The slack in his chains rattled as he shifted his weight. While he spoke, his breath was becoming labored as though his words cost him more than he could afford.

My mother often told me that men first flatter those whom they would conquer and every woman should beware their honeyed words, Kira replied with a more natural smile bright on her face. Despite herself, she found that she liked the rhythm of their banter and she found herself oddly attracted to his easy smile as well as his obvious intellect.

It is you who are blessed by the gods to have a mother graced with such wisdom and with a willingness to impart it. I’m certain that she gave you much more than you are wont to say and you due her credit in your carriage. Of my own mother, I have only the memory of her love and the richness of her laughter. All else is lost in the mist of time.

As he spoke, Kira saw a distant pain reflected in his eyes that far exceeded the pain of his injuries. It was a pain of profound sorrow and loss, which somehow pierced her armored heart.

A warrior’s lot is often rife with tragedy and loss. Such is the fire in which our blades are forged and our wills are honed. Frequently, I wonder if it will always be thus for those who walk our path. Would we even be what we are without our loss and pain? Is adding to the sum of the world’s misery our only true purpose while the gods on high sit back and laugh?

Kira suddenly felt unarmed and vulnerable before him. Her emotions were as exposed as a raw open wound and she knew not how she had reached this state. With Gore, she felt that she could confide all of her doubts about the lives that she had taken and their weight seemed somehow less onerous on her soul.

What is your name? he asked with deep interest resonating in his voice.

Kira, daughter of Larisa, she replied, her voice almost choked with emotion.

Your mother is a living legend and, in this region, you echo her deeds, but this tells nothing of where your true strength lies. For a warrior who never questions her actions or doubts, her course is little more than a beast sent by the gods to plague mankind. You are far more than that, Kira, daughter of Larisa. His words washed over her like a soothing balm and she cared not if the relief was reflected in her eyes and her features.

She stared at him for a long moment, drinking him in, her desire for him rising in her chest like a brewing storm. It was heat and longing pulling her in a direction not of her choosing and yet beyond her power to resist. Its driving force was cataclysmic and burned in her with the heat of the sun. Unrestrained passion filled her mind and clouded her judgment, taunting all of her beliefs and tempting her all at once with the promise of rapture beyond earthly delights. The embodiment of this flood of emotion sat shackled to a post in front of her with a look on his face that roared he knew her feelings and shared them.

The pain of your injuries is great and here I sit taxing the remnants of your strength for no good cause. Your bearing does you credit as well, Gore, no doubt the result of your mother’s strong blood. I will leave you to regain your strength, Kira said while rising to her feet and suddenly trying to conceal the new and unfamiliar emotions that swirled in her breast.

Perhaps you will return one day soon and we may continue our discourse? he ventured.

So, I shall, Kira replied.

Chapter 2

The smooth stone walls of her inner prayer chamber seemed