Until this point in my existence, I did not consider myself a killer. I had taken lives in distressing variety--hobgoblins, orcs, ghouls, even human, but I had taken comfort in the idea that there was a gulf between the idea of taking a life and the identity of a killer. Perhaps this was youthful foolishness, yet a change did take place in me over the time I spent mired in this damnable war.

The war made me a killer.

What will follow in the next chapters is not intended as a comprehensive history of what came to be known as the Turquoise Conquest, the Stand of the Amazons, or perhaps more accurately, the Fall of Axichis. Many such chronicles exist that provide the historical perspective. The fifteenth volume of the Historiae Heachariae is accurate in the sense of troop movements and battle outcomes, but it grants the Heacharids a nobility that does not exist in their blighted culture. The Lament of Axichis is far better, delving into what was lost when this culture was ground beneath the boot of the conqueror. Even the final volume of The Fourfold Chronicle will be superior, as it will detail what every member of the Mythseekers did in this needlessly destructive and doomed endeavor.

As befits the purpose of this chronicle, I will confine myself to the events surrounding my paramours. Perhaps it was the nearness of death, but I did not want for company during the fighting. Even as the war took its toll on my very soul, my bed was seldom cold.

First, necessary background, for Axichis has passed into the realm of history and the Heacharid Empire is but a shadow of what it was then. Axichis was the name for both an archipelago in the Turquoise Sea and its largest island. A tribe of amazons had carved out a civilization of exceeding beauty upon this land, and their legends claim it was thanks to direct treating with the gods themselves. The Axichans were few in number, and fewer still left their lands by the time the war started. They produced great warriors and artists, and I am still a great admirer of their philosophical texts, but they were perhaps a culture in decline. Their passivity and insular values were no match for the imperialistic powers of this age.

Chief among those were their enemies in this war. The Heacharids remain a tumor upon the southern continent of Aucor, and in this era, they were expanding. They had reached the shores of the Turquoise Sea in their cancerous spread, and the next step would be reaching their tendrils the waters to gobble up the various free cities and island nations that existed there.

Church and state were one entity to the Heacharids. Their civilization was dedicated to the exaltation of Xomera, their goddess of purity. Axichis offended them. A population of women breeding without the assistance of men could not be allowed to exist in the Heacharid mind. And their hatred made this awful goal a fact.

Forgive my anger. I loathe the Heacharids like I hate no other civilization upon this world. Even the elves with their cruelty do not offend me thus. Much of the evil the elves place upon the world is because of their long lives. The Heacharids have no such excuse. They commit evil because they have chosen destruction and viciousness. I became a killer simply because I learned to take joy in their slaughter. And in this war, I would be little more than a butcher of men.

The Heacharids marched all over Aucor, clad in their shining mail. They took what lands would surrender and burned the ones that would not. They visited terrible torments on all who would not submit. They believed in purity, and thus any who were not human would be fed to the pyre. A drop of elven or orcish blood would be reason enough to flay the flesh from your bones. That continent still bears the scars of their savagery, not the least for the twenty-odd cities named for their great conqueror Sabbatius. There are times I think of leading my own crusade to wipe the last vestiges of their culture from the world, but I have grown soft in my dotage. Time will do to them what none of their enemies could.

I knew very little of the Heacharids when I boarded the ship that bore us from Castellandria. Velena loathed them, and I trusted her. By the standards of the Heacharids, she was not human and would be slain on sight. In fact, by their reckoning, of us, only Alia was human. I understood them as terrible foes, but I did not yet understand their evil. I would need to witness their atrocities, which I soon would.

As I stood on the deck of the ship, sails full, making hard to the west, I was beginning a grand adventure. I would return having been blooded in war. I believed it would take only a few scant months, for what can stand against the Mythseekers? I would soon be back in the arms of my loves in Castellandria as the hero of Axichis.

The journey was a short one, partially thanks to my using my magic to keep the wind in our favor. We spotted the Heacharid blockade far on the horizon after only a few weeks upon the water. Xeiliope had paid the captain of our ship well to run it. The captain slipped the small and agile ship through a gap in the blockade. I remember laughing at the lumbering Heacharid ships, thinking there was no way they could keep traffic from Axichis, not realizing they were suited for hunting heavy cargo ships rather than slippery caravels piloted by experienced smugglers.

We landed upon Melisis, at the Kleogara, the capital city. Melisis was one of the larger islands positioned off the south coast of Axichis. The pursuing ships peeled off before coming into range of the ballistae lined up on the white cliffs, returning to their restless watch.

As our ship sailed into the expansive harbor, I had my first view of a Axichan city. My imagination had not been the equal to the task. Built around a bay, it climbed the cliffs in elegant terraces. Gardens were plentiful, serving the dual purpose of beauty and food production. The structures were of white stone, with lines of columns and few walls. The bulk of the islands of the archipelago were to the west and south, and on the farthest, a line of black smoke threaded into the crystal sky. Heacharid ships could be seen, patrolling the horizon like wolves.

Xeiliope's hard-edged face was unreadable. Her golden eyes were fixed upon the great building on the top of the cliffs and she clutched the haft of her spear Daybreaker with white knuckles. Velena touched her arm with concern, but the amazon scarcely reacted. As soon as the gangway was down, Xeiliope was striding down it with purpose. The rest of us had to jog to keep up with her long-legged strides.

For the first time I saw the amazons of Axichis. I held in my mind the idea that they would be like Xeiliope, all tall and muscled, beautiful in a very stern and angular way. There were many of these, armed and armored in their breastplates and kilts, greaves over forearms and calves, sandals on their feet, spear and shield in hand.

This was far from the universal image of the amazons. Artisans as soft and curvy as Velena labored in workshops. Children--girls all--played in the streets. Older women in loose linen gowns gathered in courtyards. As we made our way up the rising streets, we drew attention, most of which was reserved for me. The looks were curious, suspicious, some hostile, and all of them told me that I was an outsider.

"When we reach the top, I will speak," Xeiliope said. "All of you, especially you, wizard, please stay silent."

"We trust you," Velena said, reaching out but not quite touching the amazon. I would come to know this posture of Xeiliope's well. She was never the most demonstrative unless it was within the boundaries of loveplay, but she had closed herself off the instant she learned of the invasion. The war already tensed her to the breaking point. She could not know the misery that lay ahead for all of us.

Our destination was a collection of buildings in the midst of a beautiful garden. The central structure was the biggest, crowned with a statue of the amazon goddess of the moon, the deity they credited with the birth of their civilization. She could have been Xeiliope's sister, though instead of armor, she wore a gown that clung to her form, one of her breasts free. She reached to the sky, and here in the day, this felt perverse.

The area was alive with amazons. The elders were speaking, and divided between those in armor and those in the loose gowns of the civilian populace. The younger amazons stood sentry, many of them in face-concealing helmets, decorated with great crests of horsehair.

As we neared the central structure, a trio of amazons in full armor marched out to meet us.

"Remember," Xeiliope said, "holding up a hand. I will speak." We all stopped behind her.

The leader called out as she too came to a stop, "Hold, outsi...Xeiliope?"

"Xeiliope, daughter of Xelyphe," said my companion cautiously, peering at the newcomer, whose face was hidden behind one of these helms. Only her eyes and a thin strip running from the base of her nose to her chin. "Who is that? Your voice is familiar to me."

The leader pulled her helmet off, revealing a face that should have been a statue save for the scar running along her cheek. She too looked much like the moon goddess. "You do not recognize your old friend?"

"Meda!" Xeiliope exclaimed. Both Xeiliope and Meda, with a precision that must have been drilled into them, transferred her spear to her shield hand and grasped the other woman's forearm. "I have missed you."

"And I you. I can guess what brings you home."

"My companions and I came as soon as we heard. We are here to lend our strength."

Meda looked us over, her gaze snagging on me. "A motley band to be sure."

"They are the bravest of companions. Experienced adventurers."

"I shall take you to the War Council. They will decide what to do with you."

Meda stayed in front with Xeiliope while her two companions walked on either side and behind us. Oddrin gave a hiss at one of them and I hushed him. The last thing I needed was my familiar commencing hostilities with the amazons.

"Not quite what I pictured," murmured Alia.

"Nor I," I said.

The War Council was a group of women, some in gowns, others in armor, surrounding a great table. Upon it was a map of the archipelago, reaching to the northern and southern shores. Models like Alishum pieces were placed across the board, showing the positions of friendly and enemy troops. Even at a glance I could see our side was hopelessly outnumbered. For the first time a queasy feeling in my belly yawned to awakening. I would come to know this sensation well, for it was my most constant companion.

We were noticed before we drew close, with several women interposing themselves in front of the table.

"Meda, what is this?" demanded a handsome woman in full armor with iron gray hair. She wore a shortsword on her hip. This was Grand General Thaodora, commander of the entirety of the amazonian military.

"General, we have volunteers."

She looked us over. "And what sort of volunteers are these?"

Xeiliope gave the General a brief of our abilities. To my relief, we were accepted quickly. Xeiliope was given a field commission and dispatched to Thessandreia, an island at the southern end of Axichis and a front in the war at this time. She embraced each of us before marching down the hill for her boat. Watching fed the queasy serpent in my belly.

Velena was sent to the field hospital in Elepetra. Alia was sent to Paiari, though the General did not say why. I was left.

General Thaodora looked me over. "Storm magics, eh? What know you of ships?"

"They burn when struck by lightning?"

A grin spread over her face. Then, loudly to her adjutants. "Find a dyad of hetairoi for the wizard. We will figure out how to use him."

I would come to learn that the Axichans had only a scant number of wizards, fewer even than their small population would imply. It meant I was more valuable that I might otherwise be. As such, I warranted hetairoi.

These were sacred bodyguards attached to important figures during times of war. Wizards had them, officers had them, ambassadors had them; any the high command thought would be a target for assassination. They fought in pairs, the two women bonded to one another with magical and mundane rituals that rendered them the perfect partners in combat. My hetairoi, Einoë and Kallea were some of the most shockingly effective warriors I had ever seen. I would come to treasure them, which made their ultimate fate all the more gut-wrenching.

Our start was not auspicious. In fact, I believe they hated me.

Einoë and Kallea marched up the hill in the late afternoon. I had been removed to a smaller outbuilding and had spent my time looking out over the Turquoise Sea to the threads of smoke on the horizon. Guards were never far away. I was trusted perhaps, but not perfectly so. I had been without the Mythseekers many times, but I had never felt so distant from them as I did then, waiting on that bench, suspicious eyes on me from all angles.

I watched the two women coming up the path. They were an impressive sight, clad in traditional Axichan armor of breastplate, bracers, kilt, greaves, and helms. Where they showed bare flesh, notably their upper arms and thighs, tattoos the shade of the Turquoise Sea's waters wrapped around them. These were ornate geometries, looking almost like columns stretched from floor to ceiling, the shapes implying the shapes of women in postures of war. At a distance the rippling of their muscles animated the tattoos into suggestions of fighting amazons, but close up, these shapes became abstract. I would learn later that these tattoos stretched between every joint of their body, around their necks, forearms, abdomens, calves, and even the individual bones of their fingers. It was a piece of the rite that marked these two as hetairoi, sacred protectors of their people.

Each carried a spear and shield, and I noted that one carried a shortsword while the other a folded net on her belt. They took their helmets off as one, tucking them beneath a muscled arm. Their hair was cut close to the scalp around their skulls, with only a short ruff growing on the crown of their heads, one in copper, the other in chestnut.

"You are to be our tent brother," said the copper-haired one with the sword. She fumbled the word brother, as though it were an intrusion on her tongue. "I am Einoë. This is my tent sister Kallea."

"I am Belromanazar of Thunderhead. A friend of--"

"Stop speaking," Kallea said. "We have been sworn to guard you, not to hear you yammer on. Come, we've been dispatched to Axichis."

"The war has not come to Axichis."

"This is why my sister bade you not speak," Einoë said. "You will keep stating the painfully obvious."

Axichis held the bulk of the farmland of the archipelago. The only major city on the island was Naeri, and after the sight of Kleogara, Naeri was positively provincial. They quartered me in a small home on the edge of an extensive olive grove at the top of the city. It would have been paradise if not for the war. The olive trees were picked clean, and the herds of sheep in the pastures beyond noticeably small. Already, the war was taking a toll on the provisions of the islands. The Heacharid blockade was doing its hungry work.

Never believe that strength of arms wins wars. No, it is food, it is disease, it is population. This was the war, my first, that taught me this hard lesson.

For the first month, we were ignored. I correctly surmised that command, no matter what they might have said, did not quite trust me. I would be tucked away while my companions fought. As the reality sunk in, I was at turns frustrated, hurt, and angry. I watched the blockade on the horizon, knowing I could do something about it. The ships stayed defiantly out of my reach and every day as hunger gnawed at my will, I grew more wrathful.

Einoë and Kallea spent their time sparring, and though they were nude in accordance to the Axichan custom, their dislike of me soured what would otherwise have been an alluring sight. Their bodies were sculpted, the war melting any remnant of fat from them. Their tattoos danced over their hard forms, and were they any other women, I would be lingering in fantasy. We were not getting along any better either. Our tempers were frayed, the frustration and humiliation of being kept from the war weighing heavily upon us.

One afternoon, the three of us were out in front of the house, me in the shade with a book upon my lap, the two of them engaged in their elaborate spear dance. The sun played off their nude bodies as they struck and parried, moving with incredible grace and power.

They paused, both breathing heavily, small breasts heaving, sweat beading on their sculpted forms. Every breath outlined the muscles of their belly. Kallea looked me up and down. "Do you fancy yourself skilled?"

"In what?"

"The art of combat."

I closed the book. Kallea was baiting me, but I had not the willpower to resist. "Xeiliope gave me some instruction in the staff. I've used it."

"You're an adventurer," Einoë said. A droplet of sweat ran down the contours of her muscles, over a turquoise tattoo, into the coppery folds of her sex. Both women kept the fleece between their legs short.

"Do you think adventuring gives you knowledge of war?" Kallea teased.

"I know that I can do more than I am doing up here," I said. "I know the two of you would be happy to see me risk my life."

"There is no risk," Einoë said.

"We are hetairoi," Kallea said. "We will die before any harm comes to you, no matter the dishonor of protecting an outsider."

"Come, adventurer. Take up your weapon. Show us what you know."

"Spire has slain more than one monster," I warned. This was true, but only barely. Spire kept me alive while my magic slew monsters.

"Spire," teased Kallea. "He's named it."

Einoë picked up my staff from where it leaned against the side of the house and tossed it to me. I caught it. Oddrin gave a hiss and I sent him to perch on the house, where he regarded both amazons balefully.

I stood, giving Spire a spin. I was about to take my stance when Einoë attacked. I parried her two thrusts, and I was about to muster an attack but she was blindingly fast. I gave ground, continuing to parry desperately. She landed a hit on my knuckles then another on my ribs. The first numbed my hand and freed Spire. The second sucked the air from me in a blindingly white point of agony.

"Pathethic," she said.

"I thought an adventurer would be better than that," Kallea said.

"Make me better," I challenged, cradling my hurt but refusing to show how badly I had been hit.

The two of them exchanged a look. "He wants it," Kallea said.

"So he does." Einoë looked to me. "Very well. Strip out of that silly robe."

I stripped down to my loincloth, throwing the robe next to my book.

Kallea giggled. "Is he ashamed?"

"They have a most ugly member," Einoë said, gesturing to her groin. "So I am told."

"Go on," I said, annoyed with this talk of my manhood. "Show me."

Einoë gave a feral grin. "Very well."

They began my rough tutelage. I regretted it instantly. They took turns, one resting and critiquing while the other brutally sparred with me. Neither one softened their blows, and by the end of the day I was covered in bruises. I inspected them that night, these stripes of red and purple. Every movement found a new way to hurt. I slept fitfully, wishing Velena would come and tend my injuries.

For the following week, we trained with a staff and a wooden sword. Both were convinced of the efficacy of pain as a teacher and perhaps they were right. I certainly learned to move faster. Still, each hit slowed me, and I could not sleep with the way they had hurt me. I longed to land a decisive hit on either one of them, but they were slippery as eels, cunning as the wind. I hated them.

I rested in the shade of an olive tree one afternoon, stripped to my loincloth, my body covered in their handiwork. My back heaved as I tried to catch breath that would not return. The two of them sparred lightly not far away. "You see? This is how it is done!" Kallea called as she struck with her practice spear. The true irony is watching them taught me more of the spear than I had ever learned, but it would be some time before I would use it.

My attention went to the road rising up out from the town center where single figure made her way up the hill. She was dressed as an amazon, but instead of the iron gray and brown leather of their armor, hers was white and gold. Valkyrie armor. I broke into a smile as only one amazon had such a suit of armor, and I had been there when she had found it.

It was Xeiliope. I stood to greet her, a happy grin on my face. Seeing any friend would have been an incalculable relief, even the stoic amazon. My smile died as she drew closer. I saw no joy in her golden eyes, merely a weary relief.

Xeiliope was exhausted, which was not a trait I often saw in her. She would always represent strength to me. Not merely strength of arms but of will. As she drew closer, her expression softened to curiosity.

"Xeiliope. It's so wonderful to see you."

"Belromanazar. You are...what happened?"

"We are teaching your wizard to fight as you should have," Einoë said, stopping her sparring and leaning upon her spear.

"He looks like you have been beating him with an iron bar."

"Wooden," Kallea said. "And if he learned to move his feet he would not be hit as much."

"They are hurting you," Xeiliope said with concern.

"Nothing I did not ask for," I said. "Besides, there is little else we can do here."

"Yes," she said darkly. "I heard you were not being used. Foolishness! You are potentially our finest weapon."

"Him?" laughed Einoë.

"He can barely--" Kallea started.

"You will stop speaking or I will show you how a true amazon fights."

The two stared at her. Finally, they looked to one another and wordlessly went back to their sparring. Xeiliope watched them for a moment longer, then sat down next to me with a sigh. The clack of their weapons on one another kept the rhythm of our conversation.

"Why are you here?" I asked. "Don't misunderstand. I could not be happier to see a friendly face."

"I know," she said. "I missed you as well. I needed time away from the front, if only for a few days."

"You chose me. I am honored."

"Yes, well, Alia is working in secret. I suspect spying and assassination. Velena is running our field hospital. You were my only option." She reached out and I took her hand. "But I would have come regardless. I wanted to see you, Bel."

"Command chose me a lovely place. The food is somewhat limited, but it has quite the view."

"I love Axichis. When I was young, I often thought I would return here after my adventuring. Keep a farm."

"I cannot imagine you as a farmer."

"Neither can I."

We watched the ocean for a time, enjoying the company of one another. We returned to sparring shortly after. Xeiliope stripped down and joined us and I was pleased to see that she visited pain on the hetairoi, though nothing close to what they continued to do to me. That evening, we ate our modest meal, and Einoë and Kallea retired to their bed. Soon, the sounds of their lovemaking drifted out into the night air.

"They are like this every night," I said.

"I should hope so. They are tent sisters and a dyad of hetairoi besides," Xeiliope said.

"Tent sisters? I've heard the term before, but I know not its meaning."

"When an amazon shares a tent with a woman, she is a tent sister. Loveplay is not inevitable, but it is encouraged. I have never heard of a dyad of hetairoi that were not also mates."

"Why is it encouraged?"

"A woman who fights for love is capable of incredible heroics."

"I suppose that helped make the Mythseekers so effective."

Xeiliope smiled. "It felt unnatural until we started that custom. Though I was unused to a man."

"You've adjusted well."

She was silent for a time. "There is another reason I am here."

"What is that?"

"Something that I have not been able to get from my head. I do not know why it persists, but it does."

"Tell me."

She stood. In the moonlight, she was magnificent. Still nude from her exertions, the sweat had dried on her golden skin. Her scent was that of a hard day, musky and present She knelt before me, removing the loincloth. She showed me what could not escape her mind as she took me in her mouth. She polished my spear with an ardor that I had never before experienced from her. She took me into her throat, only then allowing me to finish, greedily swallowing every thread.

We went to bed, but no further loveplay was on her mind that night. She held me, murmuring in her sleep. I could only stroke her hair, and when I finally slept, it was fitfully.

Xeiliope stayed the week, and we lay together every night. Calling it loveplay would be too gentle, but there was love. I think she wanted comfort and there was something comforting in the way we fucked. After, she would hold me until she fell asleep and then came the inevitable murmuring. An argument with the war, perhaps.

When she returned to her posting, I felt even more alone.

I could not stay out of the war forever, but it was not the amazons who sent me. The war sought me out, so desperate was it to find its true bridegroom. The war wanted its sacrifice of lives and so it summoned its reaper. This was the night the Dreadstorm was born.

I woke in the deep black and reflexively reached for Xeiliope. My addled mind momentarily convinced me she had rolled away in the night. Then I remembered she was gone. The war. I could hear it, in my mind. Screaming, a thousand voices, high and frantic. The rush of flame. The clash of steel and the crunch of wood. It was then I recognized that these sounds were not in my mind. I sat up in bed and ran to the door of the little house. The city below me was in flames.

Heacharids in full armor marched through the streets, slaughtering all they could find, burning everything in their path. Warships wallowed in the harbor, still after disgorging their troops. I was pinioned in the spot for a time as I watched in horror. Oddrin roused me with a hiss and I pulled on my robes.

"Where are you going, wizard?" Einoë asked, coming to the door. She was still nude, sleep clinging to her with thick cobwebs.

"To war," I called back, running down the trail. I realized only then that I had not remembered to don my boots.

The heat from the burning town was on my cheeks when the first of the Heacharid patrols found me. These must have been going up to the farms and fields on the hillsides around the bay, ready to put the interior of the island to the torch. They stopped when they saw me, momentarily confused as to what a man was doing obstructing them.

They stared at me, the footmen in mail, tabards emblazoned with the burning rose of the Heacharid Empire on their chests, carrying long spears and torches. Their commander was in enameled plate, a broadsword in hand. He shouted at me in heavy Eomet, and though my facility with that tongue had improved, I would not have had trouble understanding his single command.

"Submit!" he roared.

"Lay down your arms and surrender!" I shouted back. I spoke in Rhandic without thinking.

The commander's eyes flicked to my feet. His smile was wide, filled with menace. I did not have to speak his language to understand his order.

Two spearmen charged me. I knocked the first one aside with Spire, then spun it, catching the other with the butt of the staff. That was a trick Kallea had taught me. My bruises still ached from those lessons, but that night they did not slow me. Another spearman came, and then another. Fighting one of them I could have done, perhaps even two, but four was impossible. I had doomed myself.

And then a spear skewered the closest of them, followed another being hit with a brutal shield strike. Einoë and Kallea were abruptly on either side of me, armed and armored for battle.

I stepped back, calling my lightning to my hands. The magic came easily, my anger and frustration easily transforming into killing power. I threw the first bolt, arcing it through the two left alive who had charged me. It impaled them as easily as a spear. And that was when I knew what evil Diotenah had placed within her ring.

Her presence was with me, like a whisper behind my ear. Her power, the black and enervating power that I had felt when we had coupled upon her altar, flowed from the ring and into my magic. The energy of my lightning should have dissipated rather quickly, but instead, it continued to crawl over the corpses of the two Heacharid spearmen like lambent spiders, wreathing portions of their bodies. Then, in horrified fascination, I watched them rise.

The lightning had done grievous damage, and I think some of Diotenah's death magics had taken root as well, for the spearmen were partly skeletal, flesh hanging off their bones like burned paper. Energy glowed inside their empty eyesockets. They turned upon their former comrades, and with a hideous silence, attacked.

The Heacharids reacted in terror, falling back in the face of these two wights. My hetairoi hesitated only for a moment before throwing themselves into battle. Every time I hurled my lightning, more Heacharids fell only to rise and join the ranks of my stormwights. Soon, the commander himself was at the head of my column.

The undead abominations marched into the town, blue lightning still playing over their ruined bodies. Our force only built, and by the time we reached the port, I was at the head of a legion of the monsters. The remaining Heacharids broke and fled for their boats.

By now, the city's defenders had rallied. Along with the stormwights, they swooped upon the fleeing Heacharids like a storm. They swarmed over the ships, butchering the Heacharids and casting their bodies into a bay now churning with feasting sharks. Only a single ship escaped.

I was not finished. On the shore of the port, I continued my spells. This time I called the clouds. They converged on demon winds, rumbling with thunder. Soon rain spilled over the city. With the assistance of the locals, soon the fires the Heacharids had set were guttering.

I stood in the driving rain, looking out at the single fleeing Heacharid ship, sailing out beyond my clouds and into the first light of day. I knew they would bring with them tales of defeat and of fear. This was good. Let them understand what such an attack would cost.

I sent the stormwights marching into the sea, where they would surface and slay more of their former fellows until they were hacked limb from limb. Diotenah's power continued to whisper in my ear, telling me of the dark journey of the stormwights across the sea floor. They would be a nasty surprise for the first Heacharid camp they found. More terror to be spread.

Gods help me, I exulted. I did not think of it as slaughter, for I was merely defending Axichis. Yet one does not see a path by the first step one takes upon it.

"Wizard! What foul magic was that?" I turned to see the face of Einoë, wet with rain, her face alight.

I looked at the ring encircling my finger. The skeletal serpent seemed to move for an instant, resettling about the base of the digit. Strong limbs crushed me in an embrace. It was Kallea.

"Release me," I said. "I need to direct the storm. Destroy the last of these fires."

She obeyed and I played the spell like an instrument, driving the rain to the places where the fires burned brightest. As the day truly dawned, every fire was down to embers and my clouds began to surrender to the sun. Naeri was hurt, but she was far from sacked. At the time, I thought the losses the Heacharids had sustained to be unsustainable, but I had yet to reckon with the awful scope of their empire.

I returned to the home at the top of the hill, exhausted but pleased. I wanted to sleep. I stripped out of my sodden robes and looked down onto the harbor where Axichan sailors were already looting the captured Heacharid ships.

"You acquitted yourself well, wizard," Einoë said. I had forgotten the hetairoi were there, so silent they had become.

"We need to speak with the General," Kallea said. "With the wizard's power, we could break the blockade!"

"You get ahead of yourself, sister."

"I do not! You saw what he did to the Heacharid dogs!"

Einoë laughed, shaking her head. She turned to me. "You allowed us to beat you with staves, wizard. Why?"

"You helped build my skill."

"Listen to him. An outsider. A man. But he speaks like one of us."

"Indeed he does." She looked me over. "Are you injured?"

"Only from you. They were not prepared for a wizard here. They were arrogant."

"In another time, perhaps they would have been right, and we would have lost this island."

"Our armies would starve," Kallea said, the horror of what had almost occurred breaking through her joy at victory. "They tried to win the war in a single attack."

In the late afternoon, the city's archonae came to meet us. They thanked me, and Kallea demanded one of the Heacharid ships be given to us to take the fight to the blockade. The archonae promised to send the request to the War Council. Word was already spreading of the Heacharid rout and the miraculous salvation of the city.

That evening, the hetairoi were far kinder to me than they had been. No insults, no teasing, merely quiet company. We ate our meal out in front of the house. I enjoyed the breeze from the Turquoise Sea. My limbs were heavy and I was looking forward to the reward of slumber.

The hetairoi went inside, and I waited for the nightly sounds of their passion. A moment later, Einoë leaned from the door. "Are you coming, tent brother?"

I turned to the door. Kallea's arms were wrapped about Einoë's shoulders. The two of them were clad only in their tattoos.

"You are serious?"

"You fought beside us. You showed your worth."

"We have a bond to forge," Kallea said. "We will learn your body and you will learn ours."

"As you wish," I said. I was painfully hard. Perhaps it was the idea of laying with my tormentors, or the lingering joy of victory. I wanted a woman. In fact, I wanted these women.

They smiled at me, winsomely, but with a fierce spark in their golden eyes. I followed them to their bedchamber. It was an expansive room, with only a single wall on the interior. The others were mere columns, looking out onto the olive groves behind the house.

The two of them turned, their tattoos writhing over their bodies in the interplay of shadow and movement. They looked at one another, and Kallea spoke. "Now show us what you have been ashamed to."

"I am not ashamed," I said, divesting myself of my loincloth.

Their eyes widened as they saw their first true staff. "Much more detailed than the false ones," Kallea said, reaching to me. I approached and Kallea took my manhood in her hand. I was fully turgid now, pointing up at the lean muscles of her belly. "It is like a spear, set to receive a charge."

"Stroke me," I said. She began to pull, and I stopped her. "Stroke."

"Think of it as your weapon, sister," Einoë said, running a finger from the root of me to the head. "Hold it too tight and it becomes easy to knock out of the hand."

"I see," Kallea said, her grip loosening. "Do you plan to knock this out of my hand?"

"Perhaps."

"Get on your knees," I said. "You will find you have a better view."

Einoë grinned. "Yes, I am certain that is all we will get." She leaned over to me and our lips met for the first time. Her kiss was savage. Her tongue invaded my mouth, her teeth worried my lip. She broke and smiled. "I have never felt hair on a kiss before."

"I want to try." Kallea kissed me then, her mouth softer than her tent sister's but far more aggressive than even the other amazon I had been laying with. "I like it," she decided.

I ran a thumb over her neck, where the tattoos stretched over the flesh. "What are these?"

"We are the hetairoi, the protectors of the amazons. These are our people, etched on our skin. Our purpose and our armor," Einoë said.

"That is beautiful."

Kallea got on her knees before me. "It is. Now, let me look at this spear of yours."

Einoë followed suit. They inspected me carefully. "It's so ugly," she said.

"I like it," Kallea said. "I think there is beauty in its ugliness."

"I think it will feel good."

Kallea laughed. "I know how you like that. Should I fetch my spear?"

"Not right at the moment. I believe we both need our charge inside us. I want to see if what I have heard is true."

She licked up my shaft, smacking her lips. Kallea followed suit. I sighed happily as the two tongues started their work. Though mine might have been the first true staff they had explored, they more than made up for inexperience with eagerness, each amazon running her tongue from base to head and back again. There was no hesitation, no sense of anything but bold curiosity.

"I am getting a taste," said Einoë. "Like the sea after a hard rain."

Kallea kissed her tent sister. "Yes, I can taste it too."

"Open your mouth," I said. Einoë met my eyes and obeyed. I cupped the back of her head and guided her mouth over the tip of my spear. Then, in a fit of pique, I pulled her forward until I felt her gag and saw tears welling at the corners of her eyes. She pulled back and I allowed her to go.

"What are you doing?"

"Teaching you," I said. I ran a finger down a bruise that stretched over my chest, all lurid purples and reds. "You saw fit to put this on me. I will leave a bruise on you as well."

"You will not find me afraid," said the amazon.

"Nor I," Kallea said, pushing her tent sister aside and taking me in her mouth. She sucked me first over her tongue. She began to gag, tears beginning, and then she looked up at me. I saw steel in her golden eyes. She took more of me, and I felt myself at the very gates of her throat. Only then did she relent.

"I can take more than you, sister," she teased.

"To the abyss with you then," Einoë said, sucking me into her mouth. This time, she forced herself past the limit. I felt myself entering her throat. It spasmed against the intrusion, but she stayed firm. She closed her eyes once, freeing the tears to run down her cheeks. She moved away, her reddening mouth popping off the head of me. "There, beat that."

"I shall," Kallea said. She took me deep, pressing herself farther down. I hit her throat and she pushed forward. The head of me was enclosed in the hot velvet of her neck. I sighed as the flesh twitched against me.

"It is not all depth," I said, buried in Kallea. "Do not neglect your tongue."

I felt it begin to flutter on the underside of my staff. She held me there for a time, then released, looking at her sister with rank challenge.

"I will take him all the way," Einoë said.

She licked her lips, holding me in one hand. I ran my fingers through the short coppery red hair on her head. She ran me over her lips, all around her mouth, then opened, sucking me in. She was resolute. I felt her pause at her last limit. Then, gathering herself, she swallowed more. I was in her now. Tears streamed down her face. Then, one last push, and her lips brushed my fleece.

She was still, her throat pushing, contracting. Then I felt her tongue moving along the base of me. Slowly, she retracted, as though proving she could take more. As I came free of her throat, her tongue began to move over the silky flesh of my staff.

Kallea looked to her tent sister. "I will not be bested by you."

She took me in, flicking her eyes defiantly at Einoë and then up at me as she drove me into her throat and past her point of comfort. She held me for long, and I felt her begin to hum. I groaned as the trill worked its way into my body. Then she let me go with an insouciant slurp.

Einoë was next and she too began to hum. This was how it went. One amazon took me to the hilt, her mouth shivering in the hum. Then the other, back and forth, trading my manhood between their hungry mouths. Each swallow was easier, their throats growing accustomed to to the intrusion. Their tongues became more active, washing over me as they moved. Each one was more aggressive, taking me as a matter of valor before relinquishing me to her tent sister.

The bliss grew in me inexorably as the storm had brewed over Naeri, longing to shed its rain down each of their throats. Unbidden, I began to move, pumping my hips against their increasingly confident swallows. One then the other, each one spurring me to a new height. I held on, wanting this ecstatic feeling to last forever.

But it would not. My clouds boomed, and Einoë received the first hot spurt onto her tongue as she released me. The second splattered over her neck. Kallea took me in eagerly, gulping as I emptied myself in her. She was still, and when she was certain no more was coming, she licked along the head of me, getting the last stubborn bits. Then she turned, licking the pearly stripe across her tent sister's leanly-muscled neck, going up to Einoë's mouth and sucking her into a searing kiss.

I settled onto the bed with a sigh. The two of them looked down at my softening spear. "Is that all?" Einoë demanded.

I smiled. "Not even close, but I will need a moment."

"A deficiency," Kallea said.

"I would watch the two of you," I said.

"Have you never seen two women?"

"I have. I am interested to see how you enjoy one another."

"We prefer the amazon circle," Einoë said.

I moved over on the bed. "Show me. I will join you presently."

"You heard our tent brother," Kallea said, playfully slapping Einoë on the buttocks. It was funny watching the difference in their demeanor. They were so stern and stoic in every aspect of their lives except for this one. Kallea crawled onto the bed, Einoë following. They turned on their sides, heads between each other's legs. I then watched the two of them giving one another enthusiastic knight's kisses.

They knew each other's bodies intimately. I had heard them often enough to know they knew all the secret places on the other, but now, seeing them, I could see the evidence. Kallea was the louder of the two of them, but both moaned and sighed even as they had their heads buried between the other's legs.

I caressed Kallea's flank. Her back, undulating in the moonlight, was breathtaking. I watched the tattoos dance. I was hard again, for such a lovely sight could not help but spur my ardor. I moved up behind Kallea, kissing her neck, my arms encircling her. Her breasts were small, her nipples hard under my caress.

I shifted, and I felt a mouth on my staff. Einoë. Her lips were replaced by her hand, and I felt her maneuvering me to the petals of Kallea's sex. I eased myself inside, and I felt Kallea stiffen, releasing a throaty moan.

"He is inside me, sister," she said.

"I know," Einoë said from beneath us. "I am watching him take you."

I felt the other amazon's tongue on my staff now, washing over the place where Kallea and I were joined. I pushed into Kallea slowly, letting her get used to this intrusion. She dipped her head back down to Einoë's sex, her own explorations growing in ardor the more I impaled her. When I had taken her to the hilt, I felt Einoë's tongue now washing over my purse, a strange sensation that I did not find altogether disagreeable.

I began to move, finding a rhythm behind the amazon. I watched her back move and arch, Einoë's hips writhing against Kallea's face. I pulled out of her, and with some difficulty, I rolled her on her back. She looked up at me in blissful confusion, her mouth smeared with succulent juice, her eyes smoky with need. I took her again, kissing her deeply and tasting Einoë' nectar on her lips.

After a few thrusts I sat up, wanting to watch her muscled body undulate against mine. I gripped her hips, rolling them up. "Sister, I am close," she breathed. "I need you."

Einoë straddled Kallea's face, and the two of us, facing one another, took either end of the amazon. I found an easy, lengthy stroke. Einoë's hips moved in aching circles.

"Do you like how she feels, wizard?" Einoë breathed. Her chest glistened with sweat, the tattoos cavorting over her midsection.

"I do."

She grinned, and reached between us. Her finger found Kallea's pearl, right at the base of my pelvis, and she brushed it. The amazon bucked beneath me, her body seizing mine with sudden power. The bliss came upon me suddenly, boiling over, and I was spurting inside the brave warrior. I shook as the ecstasy gripped me, holding on. I came back to awareness to find Einoë continuing to writhe over Kallea's face, fixing me with a glare I knew well from our sparring.

"Off," Einoë ordered.

"What?" I was confused, my body still recovering from the crashing pleasure.

"Off," she repeated, shoving me. I fell out of Kallea, sitting hard on the bed.

Einoë never waited. She immediately folded double to once again complete the amazon circle. I watched her eating my seed from the folds of her tent sister's sex. This lewd sight brought me back immediately. I knew what I wished to do to my tormentor, my lover, my tent sister.

I stroked myself to full hardness as Einoë prolonged Kallea's bliss with expert attentions. Soon she was ready for breaking. I moved to the other end of them. Einoë's haunches begged to be taken, her muscles dancing beneath her taut skin. Her muscular buttocks were spread. I gazed at the dark circle between them.

I spoke a simple spell, wreathing my staff in fragrant grease. I lined myself up with the winking hole, placing the head of me against her. Her rosebud clenched, as though fearful.

"Wizard, hold, what are you--"

I pressed hard into the puckered hole. For a moment, I was held at bay, and then, with a pop, the head of me was buried inside her. She moaned, somewhere between pleasure and pain. "Another test," I gasped. "You will learn to take me thus."

"Yes," she murmured. "I fear no test. I am so full."

I gripped her hips, driving myself into her inch by aching inch. Below me, Kallea had returned to her senses. I saw her between Einoë's legs, staring up with wide eyes.

"How does that feel?" she asked.

"I am sure...you will...find out..." Einoë gasped.

"She is right," I assured Kallea.

"Are you in, wizard?"

"Halfway," I said with a grin.

"You will find me no fearful maid, wizard. Finish me."

"As you wish."

I pushed into the impossibly tight opening. She held me with every oune of her strength, wringing intense pleasure with every bit of depth I managed to gain. At the moment I had her impaled on my length, her buttocks resting against me, she let out a tiny squeal. The aches and pains of my body vanished for that single moment.

I felt Kallea beneath us, active between Einoë's legs. I drew out of Einoë as I had with her mouth, then, brutally, I slammed myself home. Her grunt was on the edge of pain, but she was stronger than that. I gave her another, and another. I had found my bliss twice already, and that had given me endurance.

She began to move, pushing back against my thrusts. At the same time, I felt Kallea's mouth against her, sucking, humming. My pace picked up, faster and faster. The fury I stoked now was inescapable. With a final grunt, Einoë's whole body spasmed. Her rosebud gripped me and that was the final push I needed.

I emptied myself in her with a cry, falling against her heaving back, sucking in the aroma of our lovemaking, of her sweat, of the olive groves outside and the last of the smoke in the air. I lay there, catching my breath, the pain from my innumerable bruises once again fading into sensation. I gently pulled myself from her, and she gave a tiny sob, whether it was pain or pleasure I don't think even she knew. Soon, the three of us lay in bed together, staring up at the ceiling.

"Welcome to our tent," Einoë said.

"I think I like it here."

"As do I," Kallea said, cuddling up to me. "Einoë? Are you finished?"

The other amazon chuckled. "For tonight."

"Belromanazar?"

"I am sorry. I still ache from your lessons."

"And I ache from yours," Einoë said.

I chuckled and kissed her. I was almost surprised when she returned it.

Kallea sighed. "Very well." She kissed Einoë and then me, and the three of us drifted off into slumber.

After the victory at Naeri, the high command of Axichis changed their opinion of me. Our petition was granted. We were given one of the captured Heacharid warships, renamed Naeri's Revenge, and we started our true work: breaking the blockade.

Much of my war was out on the waves. I sank so many Heacharid vessels that a new reef lies within the Turquoise Sea. Some say there are still stormwights waiting down there, ready to slay any who make it down.

I do not know. I have never returned to Axichis. I do not think I could bear it.