Complete
Drama
Set in the early 20th century
Disclaimers:
Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, The SciFi Channel, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is written purely for my own entertainment, and that of anyone else who may happen to read it. No infringement of copyright is intended. It is not intended and should never be used for commercial purposes.
The original characters, situations and ideas contained within this work are the property of the author.
Author's Notes:
This is the third part of the Medusa series. It follows immediately on Meriope, and is followed by Aeolchis.
Acknowledgements:
Many thanks to the best little beta reader in Dόsseldorf, Sho.
Akrotiri, on the planet Kritos
The woman who waited in the training room certainly looked like Niao, at first glance. She had the same dark eyes; she had the same blue-black hair and wore it in the same gamine cut. But this woman was clad in a tunic and trousers of white silk, with a band of gold around her brow and no tattoo to mar her flawless olive skin. Her expression was cool and imperious. Her gaze seemed to penetrate to the very core of Meriope's being, yet under that fierce eye the Jaffa felt safe.
Without hesitation, Meriope bent her knee before this figure. "Medusa, My Goddess," she murmured, suddenly embarrassed to think of all the times when she has addressed Naio' as an equal.
"Rise," Medusa ordered. Her voice thundered softly, but it was nonetheless the voice of Niao dry, amused and just a little impatient. "In future you should know that I do not like to be addressed in that way. When you speak of me or to me, you will say My Captain'; is that understood?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"And I told you to rise, Jaffa!"
Meriope sprung upright. "Yes, My Captain."
"Better. Now, Rathe."
Rathe emerged from the shadows in the corner, carrying a pair of training staffs. He threw one of them to Meriope and she caught it easily.
"Rathe has given you some training, I know. Have you practiced since he left Halicarnasus?"
"Every day."
"Good. Show me."
Meriope moved into a guard posture and Rathe matched her. She attacked warily, knowing that Rathe would have improved considerably since they had last sparred. In fact, she hardly recognised this opponent as her former teacher. When she had studied with him, Rathe had been skilled, but formal and awkward; as unfamiliar with his weapon as Meriope had been and almost as inexperienced in true combat. Now he was fluid, intuitive and inventive; Meriope was nowhere near to his skill and in just a few passes he had landed a touch on her shoulder.
"Good," Medusa said again.
"Is that it?" Meriope asked, before she could stop herself.
Medusa only laughed, kindly.
"My Captain teaches that humiliation is a poor teacher," Rathe explained. "She knows that you have been ill-trained" he grinned, wryly "and that you are inexperienced; she does not require me to prove it by thrashing you."
"It is also a useful test of control to ask a warrior to pull his blows at times," Medusa added, "although it is not a habit that should be encouraged. In training armour, practice is always full-contact. Tell me your thoughts on that match, Meriope."
"Rathe has grown skilful," she replied. She paused a moment, then added: "And I have grown slow."
"Excellent!" Medusa smiled, approvingly. "You know the quality of your foe and your own weaknesses. But you are not slow; you are stagnant. Your moves are too formal; you have not fought a live opponent in so long that you have lost the rhythm of action and reaction. Your speed and confidence shall return with practice."
"Yes, My Captain," Meriope agreed.
"That was not an order, Meriope," Medusa said, patiently. "Rathe will see to your equipping and then take you to the women's barracks. Rest well tonight, for tomorrow your instruction begins."
Meriope bowed low. "Thank you, My Captain."
*
Rathe led Meriope through the fortress to the armoury. "Of course, each of the wardrooms and the section barracks has an armoury in addition to a bunk room. In our Captain's hall we are never far from our arms."
"I see," Meriope said, since something seemed to be expected.
"This, however, is the main armoury where the weapons and armour of all the apprentices and of the second company of regulars is kept."
"How many warriors are there in the Hall?" Meriope asked.
"Four fifths of My Captain's battalion," Rathe replied. "The first, third and fourth companies of regulars, the ιlite company of Gorgons and the company of apprentices; the second company of regulars is in permanent service aboard the Captain's ha'tak vessel. For now, you will be concerned only with the training company, but that is structured much as a regular company, with four sections; you will be assigned to the women's section."
"Do the full companies have women's sections?"
Rathe shook his head. "Once you are a regular, you will bunk with the other warriors of your section; men and women."
"Oh my," Meriope said, shocked.
Rathe looked at her fondly. "Always so proper. Never change, Meriope."
Meriope laughed. "Do not be foolish, Rathe."
"Come," Rathe said. He pushed open a heavy iron door and ushered Meriope through. "You will find the Master-at-Arms a little brusque, but he is a good man to have as a friend."
"Rathe," Meriope said. "I do not think much of your armoury. It is a little on the small side, and there are no weapons."
With a patient smile, Rathe closed the door behind them. They stood side by side in a bare chamber, less than ten feet square. Rathe faced the wall in front of them and said in a firm voice: "Da ipsta a kratoros."
After a moment's pause the voice of a young woman filled the chamber. "Kree, Jaffa. Identify yourselves and state your business."
"Rathe of Halicarnasus. Squad Leader of the Assault Section; Company of Gorgons."
"Meriope of Halicarnasus," Meriope added.
"Chal'ti of the Women's Section; Company of Apprentices," Rathe expanded. "Greetings, Thyia."
"Greetings, Squad Leader."
With a soft hiss, a long, straight crack opened in the wall and a hidden door swung wide.
"Security is paramount in the Hall," Rathe explained. "Our weapons are always at hand, but not just anyone can access them." He led the way through the door and into an armoury twice the size of Damos' cattle barn. Rack upon rack of armaments stretched away into the distance. Staff weapons, zat'nik'tels, tacs and blades of many shapes and sizes; armour in several styles; and shelves stacked with clothing.
"Fates," Meriope whispered.
"This chamber houses the wargear for over four hundred warriors and three hundred apprentices," Rathe explained, "as well as the workshops of the Tek ma'shen. That does require a little space, you know."
By the door was a desk, where sat a grey-bearded man who looked to be one of the oldest Jaffa that Meriope had ever met. He wore a plain grey robe and rested his feet on the desk; his left leg was a sophisticated mechanism of steel and trinium, but the other was clad in a leather boot and presumably unremarkable save for the strength which showed in the man's physique. Although nonchalant in stance, he had the bearing of a warrior and looked alert and battle-ready despite his prosthetic limb and advanced years.
A young and pretty woman presumably Thyia stood behind him and grinned impishly at Rathe.
Rathe studiously ignored the girl and bowed respectfully to the old man. "Tek ma'shen," he greeted the Master-at-Arms. Meriope hurriedly mimicked Rathe as the armourer rose to his feet.
"She is a little old for a Chal'ti, is she not?" Meriope's face flamed, but the old man continued before she could answer. "Nice figure; good legs. Not too much in the chest, though. Shame; but it makes my life easier. There is nothing more difficult than fitting armour for a buxom girl," he confided to Meriope.
Meriope was determined not to be flustered by this old vulture. "Is it harder to make the armour to fit?" she demanded, "or does the measuring just remind you too much of what you can not have?"
The Tek ma'shen stared at her for a long moment. Meriope felt Rathe stiffen at her side and Thyia's face contorted with alarm. Meriope wondered if she had gone too far, but then the old man started to laugh.
"Come along," he said. "No time to waste; let's get you fitted. Where is my tape? Thyia!"
The girl jumped. "Yes, Tek ma'shen," she gasped.
"Tape!"
As Thyia hurried off to fetch the measuring tape, Rathe whispered in Meriope's ear: "Good going. Some people he never warms to this much."
"What is his name?" Meriope asked.
"Nobody knows," Rathe replied. "Even Medusa just calls him Tek ma'shen; or Teken for short."
Thyia returned with the tape and the armourer ordered Meriope to raise her arms. He moved around her, measuring her waist, chest, head and limbs in meticulous detail, reaching around her again and again to pull the loops of tape close. He called out each measurement and Thyia made a series of marks on a tablet. "Good, good," he muttered himself when he was done. "Standard adjusted. Excellent. Yes," he told Meriope. "I will have your training armour ready by tomorrow morning; your field armour will take at least a week, but you will not need it before then: I'm glad to say that you will not require fully customised suits. If either set needs any but the most trivial of repairs or adjustments, please bring them to me instead of trying to fix the problem yourself."
"Yes, Tek ma'shen," Meriope replied. "Thank you."
"Thank you," he replied with a roguish wink. "It has been a pleasure."
Meriope blushed.
"Once you achieve the status of chal'ak I will make you a suit of dress armour and of course the training here is hard; you will barely recognise your own body in a year and so you will have to be measured again.."
"I look forward to it," Meriope said.
The Tek ma'shen laughed again and took her hands. He turned them over and over again, inspecting the callused palms and long fingers. "Strong hands," he noted. "That is good. Not a warrior's hands, though; farmer's?"
"Shepherd's," she corrected. "Well; and a little bit of farming."
"Alright. I can give you a salve that will speed the forming of new calluses; that will spare you a few blisters."
"Thank you."
He waved away her thanks and turned to look over his shoulder. "Thyia!"
The girl hurried out of the aisles, her arms laden with ma'shan.
"Why are you never where you are supposed to be?" the Tek ma'shen demanded, turning away without waiting for an answer. "Here." Without looking, he snatched a training staff from Thyia and tossed it to Meriope. He passed several staffs, one after another, and had her perform the eight basic blocks and attacks with each. When at last he was satisfied he selected one of the staffs the one which Meriope had felt most comfortable with and marked it with a series of scratches.
"What is that?" Meriope asked.
Teken looked up at Rathe. "Does the Captain know?"
Rathe nodded. "A tutor has been arranged to teach Meriope her letters."
"Very good." The old man nodded and turned back to Meriope. "This is your name," he explained. "This will be your training staff throughout your apprenticeship. When you need it no longer I will sand off the marks, but this weapon will be yours once it is formally presented to you tomorrow." He placed the ma'shan on his desk, turned to face Thyia and barked: "Third rack, fifth file, locker two! Then bring me a number eighteen and a size three set."
The harried young woman returned to the armoury shelves. Meriope was beginning to feel like a spectator in her own life.
"That is now your locker," Teken explained. "You will find it marked with your name. The locker is to be used for the storage of your weapons and armour only; personal possessions are to be stored in the foot locker attached to your bunk in the section barracks." He turned away and disappeared into the racks.
"Were has he gone?" Meriope asked.
"To fetch your weapons," Rathe replied. "Here he comes."
Teken returned with a staff weapon and laid it next to the ma'shan. The staff weapons of Olympian warriors were slender, sophisticated devices. The shaft was almost six feet long, with the firing studs housed in a bulge halfway down. The plasma discharge emitters were housed in a narrow, almost pointed casing at one end and at the other end was a heavy, weighted mace head, at its widest only three times the thickness of the staff. A blue crystal cover at the base of the mace head housed the weapon's liquid naquadah power core. The armourer had already marked this weapon with Meriope's name.
"This is your staff weapon," Teken explained. "Treat it with respect and it will serve you well. It will be your primary weapon in every battle you fight; if its function is impaired it will be your life and perhaps the lives of your squad mates that will be imperilled. You will be taught the basic rituals of maintenance; anything more serious..." he paused, expectantly.
"I am to return the weapon to you for repair."
"Very good. Now, where is...Thyia! Damn your eyes, girl..."
Thyia hurried up, staggering beneath the weight of an armful of weapons.
"Well, thank you Thyia," Teken said, impatiently, as the girl laid her burden on the desk. "And?"
"Tek ma'shen?" she sighed.
"Robes! Quickly now."
Shaking his head, the armourer picked up a belt which he buckled around Meriope's waist with a little too much enjoyment. He handed Meriope a scabbarded knife.
"You will wear this from now," the old man said. "Your other weapons will be given to you in the morning. The ma'shan and staff weapon will be stored in your locker, as will the zat'nik'tel." He indicated the sidearm, which was familiar to Meriope although she had never used one. "In addition, your locker will hold your bow, crossbow, spear, javelin, discus, axe, labrys and sword."
Meriope stared at this vast array of weapons and especially at the last of them, a short, heavy, sickle-shaped blade, quite different from the long, straight swords which the militia sometimes trained with.
"Most of these you will use only for training purposes, but the sword is also worn with dress armour at all ceremonial occasions. All of the weapons will suit your grip. All but the knife will be stored in the armoury when not in use. Is that understood?"
"Perfectly."
"The knife you will carry with you at all times; it is the mark of the warrior."
"Yes, Tek ma'shen."
The old man laughed. "Call me Teken," he insisted.
Thyia returned and set down a set of grey clothes.
"Chal'ti robes," Teken said. "You will wear them at all times unless your training requires you to be in armour. Your personal clothes are to be kept in storage and worn only when you leave Akrotiri to return home; within the city you should always be recognised as an apprentice in the Captain's service. You will learn that this has many benefits, but in return you will be expected to meet the Captain's standards at all times."
"I understand."
"Good. Now; do you have a comb? Towel? Denti-stick?"
"Yes."
"A night robe?"
"No," Meriope admitted.
Teken shared a look with Rathe which made Meriope's skin flame red. "I like this one a lot," the old man said.
"She came to Akrotiri for her bridal month," Rathe explained, stressing the fact that Meriope was married.
"Pity. Thyia!"
"I am standing right here," Thyia replied, wincing at the yell.
"Night robe."
"Yes, Tek ma'shen," the girl sighed.
"It won't be much," Teken apologised, "but it will do for now; unless you would prefer to sleep naked of course."
"Whatever is supplied to me will be quite sufficient," Meriope assured him, primly, although when Thyia returned, the robe she handed over was not much to look at.
"Alright, Gorgon," Teken said. "You can take her to her dormitory now."
"Thank you, Teken," Meriope said, bowing.
"Thank you, chal'ti."
*
"Who was that girl?" Meriope asked. "Teken's assistant? Why is he so short with her?"
Rathe laughed. "He's like that with everyone; well, almost everyone. Thyia is his granddaughter. The chances are that no-one not related to him could put up with him for that long."
"I see."
"She is a nice girl," Rathe noted, "but I do not think that her heart is in armoury. Here is the barracks," he added. He stopped and turned to face Meriope; when he spoke again it was in a warning tone. "Now listen: All women in the Captain's forces fall under the overall command of Ilena, Primus of the Assault Section of the Gorgons, Demarch of the Battalion and thus third in command under Captain Medusa and Primarch Anthus."
"A woman of some importance," Meriope said.
"Yes, so you must treat her with great respect, even if she does not return the favour. She will make life tough for you because you are pretty, but if you can show her that you are tough as well then you will earn her respect."
"Of course," Meriope promised.
Rathe nodded and knocked at the door. After a short pause the door was opened by a large, powerful woman of tremendous presence but no great beauty. Her long, copper-coloured hair was bound into tight dreadlocks. She looked briefly at Rathe, then regarded Meriope with a fierce, penetrating glower. "And what is this you bring me, Gorgon?" she asked Rathe.
"This is Meriope of Halicarnasus, Primus Ilena," Rathe replied. "She is to begin training under the Captain in the morning; the Captain asks that you find her a place here and assign her a ba'kir."
Ilena gave a terse nod. "You are dismissed, Gorgon."
"Yes, Primus," Rathe replied, with a short nod of acknowledgment. "Ral tora ke," he added, slapping Meriope on the arm.
"Thank you," she replied, before bowing to Ilena. "Primus."
"In," Ilena grunted.
The woman's hostility was almost palpable but Meriope obeyed without question and went into the barracks.
The room was filled with bunks and about a third of those bunks were occupied at present. Ilena led Meriope towards the far side of the room. About halfway, two women sat close together on a single bunk, their heads leaning together.
"Kree Jaffa!" Ilena snapped. The two women snapped apart. "Jocasta; find Arachne and send her to me."
One of the two women stood. "Yes, Primus," she murmured.
"One of the principle rules of the barracks," Ilena explained. "If you decide to take a lover, take her elsewhere. This is a place of rest only. Men are forbidden to pass the door of the women's barracks anyway, but there will be no ke'nep of any kind in these dormitories. Is that understood."
"Yes, Primus," Meriope said, "although I am married."
"And?"
"And so I will not be taking a lover," Meriope explained, blushing.
Ilena raised a sceptical eyebrow. "If you say so, Jaffa. That is the door to my quarters," she said, pointing to a door behind her shoulder. "I normally bunk in here; if I am in my chambers then I am working and I am not to be disturbed save in dire emergency or at a summons from the Captain. Whatever happens, you are not to enter those chambers without permission."
"Yes, Primus."
"You will sleep here," Ilena went on, pointing to a bunk in a cramped corner. The wall behind the bunk vibrated with the rumble of some great machine on the far side.
"Thank you, Primus," Meriope said, humbly, although she felt that Ilena was being too optimistic in assuming that she would sleep.
"Change into your chal'ti's robes," Ilena said. "I will find out where your guide has got to and you should just have time to join the other apprentices for the evening meal. You have not begun training yet?"
"That is correct, Primus," she agreed.
Ilena gave another terse nod. "The horn of the hall will sound at dawn. You are to attend on the Captain in her private training hall immediately after breakfast. I believe that you should join the other chal'ti for evening exercises," she added. "Arachne will show you to the gymnasium an hour after the meal. I am told that you must rest tonight, but it is not healthy to sleep on a full stomach." She glowered at Meriope, challenging her to argue.
"Yes, Primus."
Ilena glowered at Meriope, then left her to store her spare clothes and her effects. The dormitory seemed an unwelcoming place, especially when she had to strip off her personal clothes and change into the grey training robes. The robes consisted of a knee-length, woollen tunic, slit to the hip on either side, matching trousers and a pair of sandals. The robes were comfortable but they were not hers and she felt very vulnerable, surrounded by strangers and wearing unfamiliar clothes. She was moving towards her long-cherished goal, but she hardly felt that she was living the dream.
"Meriope of Halicarnasus?"
Meriope turned to face the woman who had addressed her. "Yes," she agreed.
"I am Arachne of Knossos," the young woman replied. She had a pretty, round face; her black hair was cropped short into a similar style to Medusa's and she wore a grey apprentice's robe. Her dark eyes were friendly and she had a pleasant smile. "I have been assigned as your ba'kir," she explained. "I am to show you around and teach you the rules of the Hall."
"Thank you, Arachne," Meriope said. She was somewhat taken aback by the youth of the woman assigned as her guide. "Are you also chal'ti?"
Arachne gave an infectious grin which seemed to light up the room and make the dormitory a more welcoming place. "No, Jaffa; I am chal'ak."
"You are a senior apprentice?"
"Do not worry yourself. You were chosen by the Captain herself, I hear. I doubt it will be long before you catch up with me." Arachne punched Meriope companionably on the shoulder. "Now come, my friend; our dinner awaits."
*
The blast of a horn dragged Meriope from a fitful sleep. The air was suffused by the grey light of dawn; Meriope's head ached and her muscles were stiff from the drubbing she had received the night before. As soon as she had entered the gymnasium, a handsome, hard-eyed woman had challenged her to spar. Arachne had introduced this woman as Semele, Ilena's chal'ak thus senior to Meriope although she also was some years younger and advised them both in a warning tone that Meriope needed to warm up before sparring.
In fact, Arachne had tried everything short of holding the two women apart to prevent the bout taking place and Meriope soon saw why. Semele was highly skilled and unexpectedly brutal; she attacked hard and never gave Meriope a moment's grace to even catch her breath. Meriope was sure that Semele had cracked at least one of her ribs and she was far from sure that the younger woman would have stopped short of killing her had Arachne not intervened. The chal'ak squared off and for a moment, Meriope was certain that nothing would prevent Semele and Arachne battling to the death, but Ilena called them both to order. Despite her injuries, Meriope had pulled herself to her feet alongside the two chal'ak.
"Who started this?" Ilena demanded.
"I did," Meriope replied at once. "I should not have accepted Semele's challenge," she explained, when Ilena stared at her in amazement. "I do not have the skill to face such an opponent; my pride got the better of me."
"Is this true?" Ilena asked the other two.
"I...Yes, Tal ma'te," Semele agreed.
"I might not have used those exact words," Arachne demurred.
"Semele; give me your ma'shan." Ilena took the chal'ak's staff. "I have had cause to speak to you before regarding your lack of restraint. I am afraid that this time we will not be able to let this go at mere words."
"No, Tal'ma'te."
"Chal'ti; I trust that you will be involved in no other incidents of this kind?"
"No, Primus," Meriope assured her.
Ilena nodded. "Then you may return to the dormitory. Arachne, see to her injuries; take her to the keir'os if need be, the Captain is expecting her in the morning. Semele; with me."
"That was a bold move," Arachne whispered as she half-carried Meriope from the gymnasium.
"What will happen to Semele?"
"Most likely she will have some of her chal'ak's privileges suspended for a time," Arachne replied. "If Ilena is very angry, she may also be withdrawn from the games in Knossos this year. Semele is a gifted athlete and very proud."
"Why did she try to kill me?" Meriope asked.
"She did not try to kill you," Arachne laughed. "Her aim was to injure and humiliate you; she could have killed you at any time and I doubt I would have been quick enough to stop her."
"But why?"
"Maybe she sees you as a threat? She has been the chal prime of the women's section for a long time, but if Medusa has selected you herself...Your arrival has made a great many people nervous."
"Well, hopefully they will have seen by now that I am no threat to any of them," Meriope said, dolefully.
"The Captain chose you, Meriope," Arachne reminded her. "We all expect great things of you."
Meriope laughed; her ribs jabbed painfully into the side of her lung. "Oh good," she groaned. "So long as there is no pressure."
Meriope groaned again as she sat up the keir'os, Anteros, had reset her rib but the hard bunk had not been kind to her bruises and at once Arachne sprang nimbly down from the upper bunk.
"Good morning, Jaffa," the younger woman called, brightly.
"Good morning," Meriope replied, sourly. "How do you manage to rest in this place? I never thought I would have such need of sleep, but I could barely achieve kelno'reem with all that noise."
"You will become accustomed to the noise," Arachne promised. "I actually find it soothing. Come on; if we hurry we can shower before the rush."
Meriope groaned. "But I showered yesterday!" she complained.
"The Captain likes her warriors fresh," Arachne replied. "There is nothing like a cold shower to sharpen the senses."
Grumbling, Meriope laboured out of bed, grabbed her clean robe and followed Arachne to the shower room. She was immediately struck by the condition of the other women in the room; she had always considered herself fit, but Medusa's warriors were sleek and toned to a degree which put her to shame. Feeling self-conscious of her soft, flabby muscles, she did her best to hide in a corner and washed as quickly as possible, to Arachne's great amusement.
Nevertheless, Meriope could not deny that she felt better for the shower. Once she was done she dried herself and dressed, then ran a hand ruefully through her hair. Yesterday morning she had combed out a head full of long, dark curls that fell halfway down her back. Last night, Arachne had taken a pair of shears to those curls, which now lay wrapped in a cloth in Meriope's locker. Her hair was cropped into the gamine bob that both Arachne and Medusa herself sported.
"My ears are cold," she complained.
"You will get used to it," Arachne promised once more. "All apprentices wear their hair short. Enjoy what little you have; when we become regulars we must shave our heads."
"Go'mik," Meriope said.
"Yes. I personally plan to join the ιlite as soon as possible; then I will be allowed to grow my hair long and bind it into the dreadlocks of the Gorgon. I believe that it may be a form of incentive."
Meriope thought of Rathe when he had first returned to Halicarnasus as a Gorgon. The villagers of Agora had laughed at his dreadlocks; she had laughed at first, but then they had been rather short then. Soon enough she had come to see what a vast source of pride the dreadlocks were. "So tell me, Arachne. Why does Medusa...?"
"...wear her hair in a chal'ak's style? You would have to ask her that; I have never dared."
*
After breaking their fast in the apprentices' refectory, Arachne showed Meriope to the Captain's gymnasium.
"It would be quicker to cut straight through the other training halls," Arachne noted, "but this way is...quieter."
"Thank you," Meriope said, not wishing to revisit the scene of her recent humiliation.
"This is the door," Arachne said. "Good luck, my friend."
"Again, thank you, Arachne."
The young woman smiled and opened the door. She ushered Meriope through and closed the door behind her.
Medusa's gymnasium had an open floor at least a hundred paces across and lay open to the sky. A hundred warriors could have trained there, but at present the only people in the chamber were Meriope, Medusa, the Tek ma'shen and Thyia. The Goa'uld stood in the centre of the arena with a staff weapon in her hand; the armourer and his granddaughter stood close to the door with a pile of gear stacked neatly beside them.
"Greetings, Jaffa," Teken said. Medusa stood silently in the centre of the arena.
"Greetings, Tek ma'shen."
Teken and Thyia lifted a suit of padded training armour and approached Meriope. With their expert help, Meriope donned the armour and buckled it tight. At each stage, Teken made certain that she understood how the pieces of armour fit together.
"How does that feel, Jaffa?" Teken asked.
Meriope flashed a nervous glance at Medusa, but the Captian displayed no sign of impatience. "It feels good," she replied. "I am unused to the weight, but the fit is perfect."
Teken nodded, apparently satisfied. He gave a gesture to indicate that Meriope should now approach Medusa; Meriope did so.
"Kneel," Medusa ordered.
Meriope obeyed.
"I must be certain that you understand what you are undertaking," Medusa said. "By entering my service, you bind us together, Meriope. You shall owe me a duty of obedience; I shall owe you an obligation of use. As you are loyal to me, I shall be loyal to you.
"I shall expect much of you, Jaffa; I take no-one into my service unless I think them capable of great things. If you disappoint me, I shall have no place for you in my service, in my hall or in my city, but if you are true then I swear that you shall have no better friend."
The Goa'uld's eyes flashed like fire. "Do you understand?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"Raise your eyes," Medusa ordered. "I am not too fine for you to gaze upon. Good," she said, when Meriope had met her gaze. "Now I ask you these things only once: Do you understand what it is that you are undertaking?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"Do you enter freely into my service, accepting all of the responsibilities, regulations, duties and obligations which go with that service?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"Will you obey me in all things?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"Will you obey my officers as though they spoke with my voice?"
"Yes, My Captain."
"Do you swear this on your life and on your honour?"
"On my life and on my honour, My Captain."
"Then I swear to you, Meriope of Halicarnasus, that I shall never throw away your life, nor order you to spend your blood in a worthless fight. I shall treasure your life as though it were my own and you shall enjoy my protection from any who would harm you." Medusa held out the staff weapon. "Receive your staff, Meriope, and bear it in my service."
Meriope raised her hands and grasped the haft of the weapon. Medusa released her grip, letting the Jaffa take all of the weight of the weapon. She did not need to see the marks upon the haft to recognise the weapon which the Tek ma'shen had selected for her; she knew at once that this was her staff. The weight of it and the balance in her hands was unmistakable.
"Rise, Jaffa."
Meriope stood.
"Your training begins today," Medusa said. "It will be hard."
"I understand, My Captain. May I ask, who is to be my teacher?" Anyone but Ilena, she thought to herself.
Medusa frowned. "I do not care to repeat myself, Jaffa," she cautioned. "I said that I would take you as my chal'ti, did I not?"
"Y-yes, My Captain," Meriope gasped. She could not believe that Medusa intended to train her in person.
"Well then?"
Teken brought Meriope's other weapons over to his Captain. Medusa took the zat'nik'tel holster and buckled it to Meriope's right thigh, then she hung the sword at her left hip.
"Bear these weapons and any others you may be given with honour," she told Meriope.
"I shall, My Captain," Meriope promised.
Medusa smiled. "You may call me Tal ma'te when we are alone or in training," she said. "It would please me if you would do so."
"Yes, Tal'ma'te," Meriope replied, breathlessly, still unable to believe that she would learn from one of the gods.
"Thank you, Tek ma'shen," Medusa said. "You and Thyia may go now. Please ask Chal'ak Arachne to join us here."
Teken bowed and his granddaughter bobbed a curtsey. Once they had gone, Medusa walked to a bench at the side of the arena and sat down. She beckoned for Meriope to join her. Tentatively, Medusa went over and knelt at the feet of her goddess.
Medusa sighed. "On the seat, Meriope, and look at me. Even cut so short your hair is lovely to look at, but I do doubt its power of conversation." She slapped her student lightly on the crown of her head.
Blushing, Meriope took the seat. "Forgive me, Tal ma'te."
"You have had a pious upbringing, Meriope, but I do not care for genuflection. I am your Captain, not your goddess; you will treat me as you would my Primarch and show deference with a simple bow. Aside from one or two ceremonial occasions and unless you are required to appear before Lord Minos, you will never have cause to kneel again; that is one of the promises I make to my followers. You kneel to none but Minos and should they have cause to come here Lord Poseidon, Great Lord Zeus and the Supreme Lord Ra; you answer only to my officers not to the Taurus Guard, not to the Eagles of Zeus nor the Falcons of Ra and as a woman in my service you must understand that you belong to no man without consent. I know that you are faithfully wed, but there may be those who do not respect that. However powerful they may be, you are not required to submit to such men and I will defend you if they seek to bring influence against you. If any man seeks to abuse you, come to me at once."
Medusa smiled, gently, and laid a cool hand against Meriope's cheek. "You look so lost," she sighed, affectionately. "You do not understand, do you? Never mind; in time it will become clear to you."
Meriope did not know how to reply. Fortunately, she was saved from her quandary when Medusa turned away to face the door.
"Enter, Arachne," she called.
Arachne bowed at the door and then came over to join them at the bench. She bowed again and, at a signal from Medusa, sat beside Meriope.
"Arachne; Ilena has named you as one of the most gifted apprentice warriors in the women's section. As you have shown such promise and as I can not teach a warrior without a training partner, I will be taking over your training in person."
"Thank you, My Captain," Arachne gasped.
"There is no honour here that you have not earned," Medusa assured her. "You will spar with Meriope in lessons and you will also act as my ba'chal and aid in her instruction. I understand that you have already been assigned to teach her the laws of the hall?"
"That is so," Arachne agreed.
"Very good." Medusa stood. "Rise," she ordered. "Set aside your staff weapons and take up your ma'shan; they are in the rack by the armoury door. Arachne, bring my ma'shan as well."
"Yes, My Captain."
Medusa waited for them to return and she took her staff with a confidence born of ability. "Now, Meriope; we will begin at the beginning so that I can see how far you have progressed already. Arachne; if you will perform the basic attacks, we shall see the quality of Meriope's defence."
*
Medusa had not lied; the training was the hardest thing that Meriope had ever undertaken. She was used to rising early, but as soon as she was out of bed she now had to begin a punishing daily regime. After stretching and exercising the kinks and the weariness out of her muscles, she showered every day, in accordance with the dictates of the hall then ate her breakfast. Six days out of every seven, she and Arachne would then work on basic close-quarters combat training unarmed and with a full range of weapons for one hour, followed by one hour of ranged training, again using a variety of armaments, from staff weapons to thrown knives. The final hour of the morning was spent training in squads and sections with the rest of the company of apprentices; the squads practised skirmish tactics and battle formations and undertook regular forced marches, until the Jaffa could almost run in full armour for upwards of an hour without tiring.
After all of this, they ate a sparse lunch in the refectory and took a short time to perform kelno'reem before the afternoon's exercises began.
The first hour of every afternoon was occupied with Meriope's reading and writing lessons while Arachne again joined the other apprentices for a mixture of squad tactics and technical instruction. Unless she was unavailable, Medusa would take the pair of them for the final two hours, varying her training regime considerably each day to cover weaknesses and develop strengths which she saw emerging. With one hour left before the evening meal the apprentices would be free to relax and bathe. After dinner they were allowed indeed expected to pursue their own academic and cultural studies in the library, music rooms or other study areas; Medusa encouraged her warriors to engage in self-cultivation'. For now Meriope took another hour of reading lessons at this time and spent an hour studying rudimentary mathematics before her time was her own. Between three and four hours after dinner, the Jaffa were expected to retire to the dormitories to perform kelno'reem and catch what little dreamless sleep their bodies needed. In all, they were active for twelve of the sixteen hours of the day and night.
The seventh day of every week was the day of rituals. The morning was occupied with religious observance, as it was for Jaffa everywhere on Kritos, but the afternoon was given over entirely to self-cultivation. At this time, Medusa often summoned Meriope, Arachne and a number of other promising apprentices to join a class which in which she instructed her Gorgons in the arts of philosophy, diplomacy and politics. It was clear to Meriope that this was not some special honour for her personal apprentices, but rather something which Medusa had always done.
Also on the day of rituals, Medusa's priests would lead small groups of warriors and apprentices in kelno'reem. Meriope would never have thought that she needed to be led in kelno'reem; she had learned to enter that state of meditation when she was still a prim'ta-less child. Through the application of willpower to the half-dreaming state, however, Meriope learned that she could use kelno'reem as a means to explore her mind and her life. Even more incredibly, the priests taught her to enter a still deeper state of kelno'reem in which images and sensations flowed unbidden through her mind. On her return to full consciousness, the priests would discuss these images with her and offer interpretations which often provided profound and occasionally disturbing insights into her own state of mind.
On the last day of every greater month whichever day of the week that might fall upon all regular activities were suspended and the entire battalion, save for those on duty, would be mustered out, ordered into sections experienced warriors fighting alongside apprentices and engage in a simulated battle. Two senior Gorgons would be chosen to lead the sides in each of these battles and the terms of the engagement would be laid down by Medusa as she saw fit. At times, she would even calve off a third force and instruct them to act as an unknown factor in the engagement. The conflicts gave the warriors experience of the fog of war and more importantly provided a chance for the officers to interact with varying scenarios and make mistakes without costing the battalion any actual lives.
As Teken had promised, Meriope's body adapted fast to her new way of life. Body fat she had never known she had wasted away and her muscles grew firm and powerful through the combination of plentiful food and punishing exercise. She knew that she had gained weight but she found that all of her old clothes were now too loose for her. After her first mock-battle, Meriope caught sight of herself in a mirror; blood from a shallow cut clotted in her short hair, her face was leaner than she remembered and her shoulders were broader. She hardly knew herself.
After an awkward first month, Meriope found herself opening up to the other apprentices. Arachne remained her first and her closest friend, but she no longer felt fat and ungainly around them; she no longer felt like an outsider. A few of the older chal'ak obviously resented her to a greater or lesser degree in particular Semele and Ilena showed no signs of warming to her. Indeed, the Primus had also taken against Arachne since she had become Meriope's partner and Medusa's chal'ak.
"She is still unhappy about the business with Semele," Arachne explained to Meriope. "I am not sure why, but Semele must have felt threatened by you."
"But how could I have threatened her?" Meriope asked.
The two women were in the bath house. Arachne lay on her stomach in the baths while Meriope massaged the tensions of a long day's training from her back. Around them, many pairs of their fellow apprentices did the same.
"She has been Ilena's lover for many years now," Arachne replied. "Perhaps she thought that you would supplant her there."
Meriope snorted.
"Well, something must have caused her to lose control like that."
"And why would that upset Ilena this much?"
"Because of the fight, she was forced to discipline Semele; I am not the only one who has noted a cooling between them ever since. Ilena probably blames us for the loss of her lover. Of course, there is also the simple fact that she is jealous of you."
"Jealous of me?" Meriope laughed. "She is the third in command of the battalion; what does she have to be jealous of?"
"Ilena was the last person to be chosen as apprentice by the Captain," Arachne went on. "She was unique; now she is not. I believe that she feels threatened by you because you have broken into the special connection which she felt with Medusa."
"She can not have been alone; who was her training partner?"
"I do not know," Arachne admitted. "But whoever it was, they were no more chosen by Medusa than I was; it was Ilena who had caught the Captain's eye."
Meriope leaned close over her friend, leaning her weight onto a particularly knotted muscle. "You talk too much when you relax," she whispered.
"Only to my friends," Arachne assured her.
"Anyway; I think you are wrong."
"Oh?"
"Ilena is not power-hungry; she craves order. She sees us as a disruption," Meriope explained. "We are under her authority, but we also answer directly to the Captain. That challenges her authority and threatens good order. She can not contradict the Captain's commands so she is frustrated. Semele's actions whatever the cause will have confirmed Ilena's concerns and so she bears us ill-will."
"So what should we do?"
"Show Ilena the respect she deserves and hope that she comes to see that we are no threat to either her authority or to the order of the hall."
*
After her first year of training, Meriope was coming to realise just how much work was involved in becoming a warrior. She had trained hard and developed her skills until she could match many of the other chal'ti, but although she had grown to be stronger than Arachne she was far short of the younger woman's skill, or that of her arch-rival, Semele. Meriope still had no idea what she had done to arouse Semele's wrath, but the young apprentice clearly loathed her with a seething intensity. No attempt to resolve this tension had been successful and so Meriope had decided simply to avoid Semele as much as possible, ignore her as far as was reasonable, and to tolerate her when she could manage neither of the other options.
Whatever deficiencies Meriope might see in her own abilities, after a year, Medusa chose to promote her to the rank of chal'ak, with the privileges that that entailed including new and better robes and the corresponding duties. Meriope knew that there were some who resented the swiftness of her promotion although even Ilena assured her that her skill spoke for itself and it was perhaps because of this that Medusa directed Meriope to take a two-week sojourn in Halicarnasus; to let the ill-feeling dissipate.
Having become a skilled rider, Meriope took a horse from the stables of the hall and rode back to Agora as fast as possible. She found Damos and Criton working in the yard and sprang happily down to greet her husband.
"Good day to you, lady?" Damos greeted her, respectfully. "What can we..." He stopped and stared in blank astonishment. "Meriope?"
"Damos?" Meriope asked, concerned.
Damos lunged forward and clasped Meriope in his arms. She hugged him back and he gasped in alarm at her strength.
"I hardly recognised you!" Damos exclaimed.
"I have only been gone a year," Meriope protested.
"But you went away a...a healthy, beautiful Jaffa. You've come back a goddess."
Meriope blushed to the roots of her hair. "I have missed you so," she whispered.
Damos kissed her. "Criton," he called over his shoulder. "We may be busy for some time. Take care of the horse and...anything that needs doing."
"Yes, Sir," Criton replied, with an amused grin. He averted his eyes respectfully as Damos lifted his wife in his arms and carried her into the farmhouse.
Later much later that day, Meriope and Damos set out in the old wagon to visit Meriope's family in the hills. More than one acquaintance, passing them as they travelled, would later report at the taverna that Damos had been seen in the company of a stranger with whom he seemed a little too friendly and that he had better watch himself if his warrior wife ever found out.
"How is Criton working out?" Meriope asked as they travelled. "My Captain is interested."
"He is a fine worker," Damos replied, "which is more than can be said for that sniffy little chit of his. She turns up her nose at the simplest work and thinks herself too good to speak to any of the hands and most of the family."
"Are they really betrothed?"
Damos shook his head. "She can barely stand his presence; tries to escape from him every chance she gets. He is no more fond of her, but he stays close and he always knows where she is, however hard she tries to elude him."
"Is she coming along at all?"
"Slowly. Mama has taken her in hand."
"I almost feel sorry for her," Meriope laughed.
"Do not. Even Mama is having trouble with her. If that girl had done a hour's work before she came here a year ago, I am of Knossos. Still, you can tell your Captain that we will make a worker of the girl yet," Damos promised. "Even if we have to kill her to do it."
"I'm sure she will be heartened to hear it."
"But enough of them," Damos said. "I want to hear about you."
Meriope leaned against her husband's side and talked. She wished that the moment might last forever, just the two of them on that wagon, taking the road up the green hillside to her parents' home.
"Regrets?" Damos asked, when she paused in her tale and sighed. He laid an arm around her shoulders.
"Yes," she admitted, knowing it would be futile to deny it. "Did I do right to go?"
"I would not have let you go so easily if I had ever doubted it," he assured her.
*
As a chal'ak, Meriope's routine was changed. The day of rituals remained the same, but through the week she spent much less time on simple combat training. She now spent no less than an hour each day studying logistics and strategy in addition to an hour of tactical training. She was now able to read with some fluency and so her afternoon sessions were replaced with formation drill, mass melee practice and technical training with the other apprentices. Two hours of her evening study time were still given over to improving her letters and to increasingly complex mathematics.
There were new skills to be learned as well. For one week of every greater month, the women's section would travel by low-altitude shuttle to Stymphalia. It was a moment that Meriope would always remember when the shuttle first approached the mountain stronghold. They flew high and the first that Meriope saw was the black pinnacle of Mount Geiros stabbing forth from the soft, white body of the cloud layer. Then the cloud leaped upwards and twin vapour trails were dragged in the wakes of a pair of Stymphalian birds which rose to meet the incoming vessel. Great and beautiful machines of trinium steel, decorated with bronze feathers and beaks of gold, the gliders of the God-king Minos swooped around and fell into place beside the shuttle. As they dropped through the thick banks of cloud, the apprentices could see the great mountains rising before them and there at the treeline of Mount 10.0pt"> Geiros sat the mighty fortress of Tek Udajeet Icarus, Master and Keeper of the death gliders. It was from this stronghold that the Jaffa would learn the skills of a pilot.
Back in Akrotiri, one afternoon each week was now set aside for operations training. Under Ilena's guidance, in a precise replica of a Goa'uld ha'tak vessel built beneath the Hall, the chal'ak practiced the skills needed to operate the many stations of the warship. Medusa and her officers monitored these sessions closely, studying the apprentices to see what roles aboard ship they might best serve. After two months, Meriope found herself steered towards tactical oversight and fighter control; Arachne was rarely given a position of great responsibility. She showed a technical flare which often found her in some low-grade engineering role and she was also an expert glider pilot, but wider command was not her forte.
It was the same in their strategic and tactical exercises. Although Arachne remained the superior hand fighter and showed greater skill as a pilot, Meriope swiftly outstripped her in their command studies. One-on-one, Arachne could beat Meriope every time, but the position was reversed if they clashed with squads of skirmishers. As Arachne could now defeat seasoned warriors with staff, sword and axe, so Meriope soon attained a level of strategic and tactical thinking which proved a match for veteran squad leaders.
"I knew that you were a woman with potential," Medusa told Meriope one day, six months after Meriope's promotion.
"It is not so different from herding sheep," Meriope demurred. "Except that the wolves have staff weapons. And so do the sheep."
"Your words are modesty, Meriope, but there is truth in them as well," Medusa assured her. "Your strength as a commander comes from your strength as a shepherdess. You are aware of the entire battlefield; you have a mind for all of your force and you are quick to react and adapt to changes in circumstances, acting to limit the damage at once instead of trying to hold to your plan."
"It is only good sense," Meriope insisted with a blush.
"It is a rare gift; a skill that few possess and which it is hard to teach to those without it."
"My Captain is too kind."
"Your Captain had no time for false modesty, Meriope and you know it."
Meriope inclined her head in humility. "My apologies, Tal ma'te, but truly it does not seem difficult to me."
Medusa smiled. "My point precisely."
Meriope was justly proud of her achievements, but it was clearly frustrating for Arachne to see her less experienced classmate outstrip her so. She worked hard to better herself, but although her fighting skills improved by leaps and bounds eighteen months after Arachne began training with Medusa and Meriope, Semele defeated her in personal combat, after a long and bitter struggle, for what would prove to be the last time her tactical ability remained undeveloped.
"I do not understand," she complained, bitterly. "How can it be so easy for you, yet so difficult for me?"
The two young Jaffa sat at their ease in Medusa's garden, a great expanse of greenery which sprawled across the roof of the hall. Ordinarily only the Gorgons were permitted to enter the Captain's private garden, but access was a small privilege awarded to Medusa's own chal'ak; the one and only mark of favour which they enjoyed.
Meriope smiled, kindly. "You focus too narrowly," she explained. "When you fight, you see the enemy in front of you, hear the enemies beside you and feel the enemies behind you, but that is all. Nothing else exists for you in that moment, neither friend nor foe; it is what makes you so deadly a fighter."
"And so worthless an officer."
"Not all can lead," Meriope reminded her friend. "One day, I may be called upon to lead a section for our Captain."
"Company," Arachne interrupted. "You will lead the Gorgons, Meriope; mark my words."
"Perhaps," Meriope allowed. "But whatever role I play, I shall always walk alongside others. You may be called upon to bear the Captain's honour alone. I know which one of us I would want as a champion. You are the finest staff fighter in the bash'ak, Arachne; that is no small thing."
Arachne sighed and laid her head on Meriope's shoulder. Although she had trained for five years to Meriope's eighteen months, she was a much younger woman; unmarried and twelve years Meriope's junior. She looked on Meriope as an older sister, and occasionally as something more.
There was an emptiness in Arachne which unnerved Meriope sometimes; a need which she knew she could never fill. Although mindful of that hunger, Meriope laid an arm across Arachne's shoulders. "You shall achieve great things, my sister," she promised, with an emphasis on the salutation.
"Perhaps."
"Trust in me."
"I do, Meriope." Arachne lifted her head and brushed her lips against the corner of Meriope's mouth.
Meriope drew her face back but kept her arm across Arachne's shoulders. Instead of pulling right away from her friend, she stopped her with a kind glance. "I am married and faithful," she reminded Arachne. Not for the first time.
"Damos is far away," Arachne whispered.
"No," Meriope replied. She tapped her breastbone, just over her heart. "He is here, always. I love you, Arachne, but this is something that I can not be for you." It would not have been unusual on Kritos for two young women to share a bed no more than for two young men to do the same but as much as she cared for Arachne and as beautiful as the other woman was, Meriope was true to her oaths.
Arachne forced a fragile smile. "I suppose I will just have to make my peace with Ilena then," she joked.
Meriope hugged her young friend, tightly. "You will find someone, Arachne. I swear it."
*
That autumn, Meriope was again permitted to return home for Harvest Market. After months of Arachne's increasingly ardent advances, Meriope renewed her relations with Damos with an intensity which startled him. He was, as ever, delighted to see her safe and well: In her absence, he had no way of receiving news of her and vice versa; she could now have written, but he could neither have read nor replied to her letters.
On the morning after her arrival, Criton and Denaria were making the morning meal when Meriope was struck by a sudden realisation. "Criton," she said, "you read and write do you not?"
"Yes, Mistress," he replied. "How did you know?"
"Because Captain Medusa insists that all of her warriors learn their letters."
Damos looked up in surprise; Criton and Denaria were less startled.
"I am impressed," Criton said. "It speaks well of you that you are able to recognise a warrior by his bearing. You are quite correct."
"So you could read my letters to Damos; and write his words to me?"
"I could."
Damos gave a sharp laugh. "To Hades with that. I'm not having you read my words to my wife, Criton! You can teach me to read."
"As you wish, Sir."
Meriope hugged Damos tightly; he held her, surprised at the relief which he sensed in her. It was hard for him to be apart from her, but he did not understand why she was so very glad of this lifeline that had been offered. Soon he put this from his mind, however, for there was another question which seemed more pressing to him.
"Why is he here?" he wondered aloud, as he lay by Meriope's side that night.
"Do you not know?" Meriope asked. "He is here to protect Denaria. Why she is important to Medusa I can not say, but she must have some value to warrant a Gorgon as her guardian."
"A Gorgon, no less? But he is so young."
"I doubt I could defeat him," Meriope confessed. "Besides, a regular might grow his hair to disguise his nature, but he would not dare grow it so long."
Damos looked concerned. "Do you think that she might bring danger here?"
"Medusa has said nothing," Meriope replied. "I do not believe that she would put you in peril without warning."
"Will you ask her when you return?"
"There is no need."
"You trust her?"
"I have faith."
Damos nodded. "Then that will be enough for me as well."
*
After just five short days of Market, Meriope rode back to Akrotiri and while her heart was heavy to leave Damos behind once more, it lifted as she travelled the last few miles to the city. The smell of the sea air now felt as much like coming home as the scents of her beloved Halicarnasus. Meriope paused where the road crested the last hill before Akrotiri and gazed at the city spread out before her, the sprawl of buildings rising up to their heart, the Hall of Medusa at the brink of the cliffs.
It was late in the afternoon on the day of rituals when Meriope returned, but although she searched the library and the observatory and the amphitheatre, there was no sign of Arachne. Somewhat concerned, Meriope even searched the music rooms, although Arachne could barely carry a tune and was quite unable to play even the simplest of instruments. To her dismay, in the smallest music room she ran into Semele, whose skill with the flute far exceeded her command ability.
Semele's hostility towards Meriope had continue to grow, even when it became clear that the older woman owed her no malice and of late she seemed to blame Meriope for the limits which had been placed on her horizons. Ilena's chal'ak was expected to graduate to the regulars before long, but informed rumour had it that she would go no further; she would be a fine squad leader and might even make second prime of a section, but she would never command and she was unlikely to be deemed worthy to wear the mantle of the Gorgons. Meriope had considered explaining to her that it was her own limited imagination and rigid dependence on formal strategies which held her back, but she did not believe that Semele would be receptive.
Semele saw Meriope and set aside her flute with an insufferably smug grin. "Were you looking for Arachne?" she asked.
"Yes," Meriope replied.
"You might try the women's company ancillary armoury," Semele suggested.
"Thank you," Meriope said, courteously, although she could not think what Arachne would be doing in the ancillary armoury, a cupboard of a room in which apprentices could carry out routine equipment maintenance.
Nevertheless, Meriope did go to the little room beside the barracks. The door opened as soon as she spoke the password and that was how Meriope discovered that the ancillary armoury had a second, less formal purpose that she innocent that she was had never guessed at. She quickly turned away and closed the door, feeling her skin flush bright red from her head to her toes.
Meriope walked slowly back to the barracks and sat down. "Oh my," she murmured.
"Did you find her then?"
Meriope looked up. Semele was leaning on the door, her grin now triumphant.
"Yes," Meriope replied. She grinned, broadly. "Yes, I did."
Semele's disappointment was palpable. "You are not upset?" she asked.
Meriope laughed, which just seemed to upset Semele even more. "Upset? I am delighted. I always told her that she would find someone."
Semele turned and swept out.
An hour later, Arachne joined Meriope in the refectory. "The Tek ma'shen's granddaughter?" Meriope asked, innocently.
Arachne did not even blush. "Thyia," she said, fondly. "You do not mind?"
"Of course not," Meriope assured her. "I am happy for you." The lie came easily, but in truth she had been gripped by a sudden worry. Arachne spoke of Thyia with an ardency which was not usual in the casual relations encouraged between young companions. The idea of such a relationship was to divert one's urges from liaisons which carried the risk of pregnancy and thus confused issues of inheritance, but Arachne spoke as though she had found a lifelong partner. Meriope might not have been so concerned had she had any confidence that young Thyia felt the same way.
*
Six years after her entry into the hall, Meriope was summoned to the gymnasium; Arachne was called with her. With great ceremony and not inconsiderable enjoyment Ilena shaved their heads to mark them as regulars in the service of Medusa.
"What will Damos think of this?" Arachne whispered when it was done.
"He will adjust," Meriope replied. "What will Thyia make of you?"
"Thyia is betrothed," Arachne said, her words matter-of-fact but her voice brittle.
"I am sorry."
"All is well, my sister," Arachne lied.
"Be silent," Ilena hissed.
Medusa approached and took Meriope's staff. "Meriope of Halicarnasus, you have served me well and shown great promise," the Captain announced. "Now is the time when you must deliver on that promise." With great gravity, Medusa removed the intar crystal from the centre of the mace-head and replaced it with a liquid naquadah power cell. "From now on, Meriope, your weapon will kill in my name. Wield it wisely and with honour and you shall be favoured in my sight."
"Yes, My Captain," Meriope replied, receiving the weapon from her Captain's hand once more. As her hands closed on the haft of her killing staff, she became a full-fledged warrior.
*
To nobody's surprise save Meriope's, no sooner was she given her staff than she was assigned as the leader of a squad of young warriors whom she had known as chal'ak. Her squad were attached to the assault section of the third company under Primus Dares, a many-scarred, no-nonsense veteran. As Rathe had warned, Meriope now had to share a dormitory with all of the second company, women and men, but the rules against fraternisation in the dormitory were as strict here as under Ilena's watchful eye and she had grown so used to communal living that she barely spared a thought to awkwardness.
When word came that the section was to participate in a raid on an enemy naquadah mine, Meriope was terrified that she would fail in her first mission. It made it harder that Arachne had been assigned to the first company. Meriope would have to go into battle with no friends around her, only enemies; Dares was to cede leadership of this raid to Ilena and Semele was first squad leader of the assault section.
The battle itself was less terrible than Meriope had feared. In the thick of combat she was able to treat it like an exercise; only later would she stop to think and to realise that those who fell would not get up again. The defences on the mining world were impressive, but their coordination was abysmal and the assault section punched swiftly through. They travelled swiftly overland to the narrow canyon which guarded the entrance to the mines.
"Dares; flank left with your command squad," Ilena ordered. "I will bring my squad around to the right. The rest of the section will advance three hundred paces, take cover and engage the defending Jaffa on the canyon walls. The flanking squads will ascend the canyons under cover of the battle and assault the defending positions from behind. Semele; wait for my signal horn before you proceed further along the canyon."
"You stand here," Semele ordered Meriope, as soon as Ilena and Dares were out of earshot. "Keep your squad back and defend the mouth of the canyon."
"Yes, Semele," Meriope replied; she knew that Semele hoped for her to argue and was unwilling to give her the satisfaction.
"I never saw a Jaffa so scared of letting another gain distinction," Meriope's second, Glaucus, muttered.
Meriope shrugged. "Glaucus," she said, "what do you make of that line of hills in the distance."
"They are...a line of hills," Glaucus replied. "It appears that they intersect with the canyon walls, somewhere between here and the mine."
Meriope stared at the hills. "Kree Jaffa," she ordered, her soft voice carrying clearly to her squad. "Ready at the run."
"But the first squad leader..." Glaucus protested.
"Our flanking squads are themselves being flanked along that line of hills," Meriope told him. "I saw something move along there."
"How do you know they were enemy troops?"
"Because it is what I would do," Meriope explained. "Squad, kree!"
With no horn to signal with, Meriope had no way to warn Ilena of the trap. Her only course of action, therefore, was to lead her own squad at a run to intercept the ambushing troops. For once she was grateful for the many hours of gruelling forced marches, and the squad ate up the distance at a fierce pace. The enemy were taken completely by surprise, just as they were taking up positions high on the hill over-looking the mine entrance. When the section emerged from the canyon, the enemy would have been perfectly placed to fire down on Medusa's regulars with heavy weapons and so take a bloody toll of the attackers; as it was, they were themselves swiftly overwhelmed and thrown down from their vantage point.
As the squad scrambled down to rejoin the section at the entrance, Ilena acknowledged Meriope's swift action with a nod and sent her to secure the rear entrance of the mine; that would keep the garrison from sweeping round to flank the section while they made away with several tonnes of raw naquadah. Meriope held her post until the retreat was sounded, and an hour after they set out, the section returned victorious through the Chappa'ai to Knossos.
"You did well, Jaffa," Ilena told Meriope, grudgingly. "I am glad to see that your skill does not desert you in the thick of battle."
"It was Semele who ordered me to hold back," Meriope demurred. "I would not have spotted the ambush otherwise."
Semele merely glowered.
*
Although the mission had been an unqualified success, Meriope returned home battered and more exhausted than she had ever been in her life. She bathed quickly then fell into bed, without eating or devoting a second to her personal cultivation, or even finding the strength and focus for kelno'reem. She slept for a while, but it was still dark when she was awoken by Dares and ordered to attend on Captain Medusa at once, in full dress armour. As she dressed, Meriope was aware of hard eyes boring into her. It was no surprise for her to note that Semele was glowering up from her bunk, with naked hatred in her gaze. Meriope was shaken, but did her best to ignore the other woman's enmity and headed for the section armoury to collect her armour.
At the doors to Medusa's audience chamber, Arachne stood waiting, almost hopping up and down in her excitement.
"What is happening?" Meriope asked. "What happened to you?" she added, for Arachne looked as battered as she felt.
"I was injured in battle," Arachne replied.
"I did not know..." Meriope fell silent as the doors opened. Her heart swelled with pride to be called before the Captain in this way.
Medusa's audience chamber was a long room with white walls and a low dais at the end furthest from the door. On the dais stood a simple throne of dark wood, on which Medusa sat, with Ilena on her left and Teken on her right. Twelve Gorgons lined each side of the chamber but Meriope did not know which twelve because their heads were encased in the demon-masked helms of their company. Nevertheless, Meriope felt every eye lie heavily on her and Arachne as they made their way forward to stand before the throne.
A side door opened and Primarch Anthus entered, followed by Talus and Leonidas, the two Gorgons who had most recently been elevated to the ιlite. The two younger men each carried a Jaffa warrior's collar.
At a sign from Medusa, the Gorgons closed in behind Meriope and Arachne. Ilena stepped down from her place at Medusa's hand and stood before the two regulars.
"In the name of Medusa, surrender your staffs," she ordered.
Confused, but obedient, the two women handed over their staff weapons. The next thing they knew, the Gorgons had closed in around them and seized their arms. Hands quickly and efficiently removed their swords and knives. The muted light flashed on steel as the ιlite drew their own knives and held them high. Only faith in their Captain kept Meriope and Arachne still as the blades flashed down towards them, slicing through the leather straps of their armour; rough hands ripped the protective carapaces from them. Next the knives bit into the fabric of their uniforms and those also were pulled away. The boots were cut from their feet; Meriope almost fell, but the press of Gorgons held her up.
The press and bustle was as terrifying as battle, but Meriope held tight to her faith and stood still. The hands were rough, but she slowly realised that their touch was also respectful and that gave her fresh confidence.
When they had stripped both women down to their under-tunics and smallclothes, the Gorgons stepped back, bearing away the debris of the destroyed garments and armour. Meriope and Arachne stood proudly, secure in the knowledge that they had done nothing wrong and could therefore not possibly be being punished.
The Captain looked down on them, her dark eyes probing their very souls. Apparently Medusa was satisfied by what she saw, because she nodded her head. At this signal, Anthus and Ilena approached the Tek ma'shen, who gave to each of them a shirt of fine-linked chainmail. Bearing these, they approached the young warriors.
"You have both show remarkable courage, ability, spirit and initiative in the service of your Captain," Medusa said. "Your reward is the mantle of the Gorgons, which you have so richly earned."
Two Gorgons approached and helped Meriope and Arachne to don the padded jackets and leggings which were always worn beneath chain mail. Then Anthus held out the shirt which he carried so that Arachne could slide her arms into the sleeves, and he passed behind her to buckle the armour closed at the back.
Ilena did the same for Meriope and as she walked around behind Meriope she whispered in her ear: "Well done, Jaffa." Meriope was so taken aback that the composure which had held throughout the Gorgons' assault on her person almost cracked.
Ilena fastened on the shirt; it was a perfect fit.
Two Gorgons brought mail leggings for their new comrades, then two more brought a pair of boots for each of them. Bronzed trinium-steel greaves were strapped to their legs and then Anthus and Ilena buckled bronze cuirasses onto the torsos of the young warriors. Armoured skirts followed plated leather strips which hung from the cuirass then shoulder guards and bracers. Their swords and knives were belted at their waists and their staff weapons were returned to them.
Finally, Talus and Leonidas came forward and placed the collars over the shoulders of those who had now taken their places as the warriors most recently elevated to the ιlite. The collars were fixed in place and the demon-masked, dreadlocked helms expanded to encompass their heads. It was a strange sensation to see the word through the artificial eyes, but somehow it felt right.
"You are not yet Gorgons," Medusa said, stepping down from her throne. "You will not be Gorgons until your hair has grown and been bound into the serpent locks." Her lips curled into a welcoming smile. "However, until that time we shall view you as our sisters. You shall wear the armour of the station you are to adopt and the privileges and responsibilities of a Gorgon. Your triumphs are mine as are your failures; should you act in a manner unbecoming of my badge and my helm, I shall be most displeased."
Anthus and Ilena came up behind the newly-elevated warriors and draped long cloaks over their shoulders. Medusa stepped forward and fastened their cloaks with her badge; a winged circle divided by an eight-pointed star. She touched the stud on each woman's collar to retract their helms, then dropped a light kiss on their Jaffa tattoos.
"Welcome," she said, simply.
*
Later, as they smeared the cream that would promote the regrowth of their hair into their scalps, Meriope turned to look at Arachne. Her friend had displayed a new confidence in the last few weeks and this sense was now stronger than ever.
"The first company has not gone to battle for more than two greater months," she said. "How could you have been injured in battle?"
"I was removed from the first company," Arachne explained. "For some time now, I have been training for a different path. You were right when you saw that my role would not be as a soldier or a general."
"Then what...?"
"I am to serve as a...scout of sorts. You may have noticed a certain deficiency in the defences when you made your attack?"
"Well, yes," Meriope admitted.
"You are welcome."
Meriope's eyes widened. "You are..."
"A hunter," Arachne said. "Of sorts."
"An ash..."
Arachne laid a finger on Meriope's lips. "I do not have that skill," she admitted. "I am but a servant of my Captain."
"That is not all you are," Meriope corrected. "You are a Gorgon."
Arachne smiled. "And so are you."