Palace of the Amazon Queen

Bromm VI

Cool winter winds whipped the surf ahead of Fortune as Bromm stood at the helm. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with black hair and a thick beard peppered with a few thin gray hairs. In his green eyes danced an adventurer's spirit. Ahead of him lay the Amazons' city of Skyrra and some well-deserved rest. At his elbow was Serris, Fortune's first mate. Brushing his curly mop of brown hair from a tanned face, Serris lowered his spyglass and barked commands to a trio of sailors scrambling up the ratlines, then turned to Bromm.

"Everything looks clear so far. Though I still don't share your optimism that the Amazons will let us dock."

"We have no quarrel with Skyrra," Bromm said easily. Serris rested his elbows on the rail and frowned. "And yes, I am sure that galley was from Syme. Skyrra has as much love for Syme as you have for salted fish. They won't care a bit."

"If you say so," Serris replied. He collapsed the spyglass and holstered it in his belt.

Skyrra lay in a tidal lagoon that stretched nearly twenty miles from north to south, though the thin islands that formed its western edge were separated from the eastern shore by only five miles of clear, shallow blue water. Passing through one of the four narrow passages into the lagoon, the crew was greeted by the suspicious stares of a group of fishermen repairing their nets on the shoreline. Moving along the gunwale toward the forecastle, Bromm gave them a friendly wave. It did little to improve their mood.

He reached the bow of the ship and looked down at the sloop's hull, slicing through the shallows of the lagoon. It was clear enough that he could see the bottom in most places, perhaps five fathoms below, and it was filled with fish. Long, sleek, and silvery, they darted away in great schools as Fortune approached.

The distant shoreline of the lagoon was shrouded in a thin white morning fog, though dark wisps of smoke rose above it, marking the location of the town for Fortune's helmsman. Other vessels plied the lagoon, from small fishing boats to a pair of large schooners making for port. Several miles distant, Bromm could make out the distinctive shapes of Amazon galleys.

He turned back toward the helm and found a young, dark-skinned sailor named Brand standing there. The man looked concerned.

"What's on your mind, sailor?" Bromm asked cheerily.

"The men have been telling stories, captain. Stories of Amazons." Brand rubbed his wrist with one hand anxiously, then switched to rubbing his other wrist with the other hand.

"What kind of stories?"

"It depends on the man, sir. It's Caturn, you see... He's been telling us they are maneaters. Cannibals."

Bromm laughed. "Caturn is a teller of tall tales, it's in his blood. Some have a bit of truth to them, no doubt, but the man never lets truth get in the way of a good time. And nothing excites him like putting the fear into you young lads."

"So, the Amazons don't eat men?" Brand asked, relief creeping into his expression.

"They are fierce warriors," Bromm conceded, "but they are no cannibals. We come in peace, and they will treat us as guests if we behave."

"Are we to trade, sir? We've brought nothing special. Caturn said the Amazons have no interest in the breadfruit, and they have plenty of cloth."

"Cloth is always in demand, but we've come to do more than trade. We've come to fuck."

Brand blanched. "Caturn said they will sacrifice raiders to Arvoran or feed them to their tigers. He said," the lad's voice dropped low, "he said that if a man ravishes an Amazon, they cut his member off."

Bromm laughed again. "We don't come to ravish, we come to whore!" he clapped a hand on Brand's shoulder and guided him back toward the helm. "Amazons hold their own men in disdain. They are weak, shrinking creatures unworthy of mating with the warrior women. Whenever bold, strapping men like us make port, why the Amazons can't keep their hands off us!"

"They will let us pay to bed them?" Brand asked eagerly, and Bromm laughed once more.

"They will pay us to bed with them. My boy," Bromm sighed, "you are in for a good time once we land. Trust me, everything will work out. We will stay in port for a week or so, fuck every Amazon worth our time, then load up on iron, tin, and hides and make for Torvuls again to reunite with Talish."

"Then back to the Ivory Straits?"

"Or the Gates of Dawn, or perhaps the Cold North. Once the spring winds blow and the trade fleets sail, it will be good pickings for a band of brave rogues with a swift ship and good fortunes."

Brand smiled. His hand went to his neck, where he wore a garnet-studded gold necklace they had pilfered from the neck of a fluyt captain three months prior. "That sounds wonderful, captain."

"Aye, it does. It's no winter in a Torvuls pillowhouse, but perhaps its best we lie low there after our night at the dicehall, eh?"

"Now that you mention it, captain, I've only heard Caturn's story of what happened. What really occurred that night?"

Bromm sighed. "In good time, lad. Perhaps tonight, when we're drunk on Amazon wine, entertaining some cock-hungry warrior women with tales of battle and adventure. But now, I've got to bring this old tub into harbor, you see?"

"Aye, aye, sir." Brand scurried off into the rigging to join his crew. Bromm returned to the helm where Serris waited. The Amazon galleys stayed far off and Fortune cruised uncontested through the lagoon. By the time they were near Skyrra's quay, the fog had begun to lift. Manex the helmsman brought the sloop into port easily and soon enough the crew had her moored and was beginning to unload their cargo.

Crewmen swarmed into the hold and begun moving crates of cloth and muskets onto the quay, where Amazon clerks checked them and collected the tariff. Bromm found his quartermaster speaking with the harbormaster. Ji was a short man from the far eastern lands, short, wiry, and quite strong. He wore black hair in a long ponytail that hung down his back, and a thin beard and mustache clung to his sun-worn face. He wore a dark blue shirt and white pants, with a narrow-hilted straight sword hanging from his baldric.

With brown almond eyes he studied the cargo manifest and nodded, satisfied. The harbormaster, a short, stocky woman in a long robe of many colors, barked commands to her porters who quickly appeared and began loading the crates of cloth onto carts.

"All in order?" Bromm asked breezily as he approached Ji. The man nodded.

"We've a spot for it in the warehouse and there will be buyers stopping by soon enough." He smiled. "We'll have some drinking money tonight, captain!"

Another man joined them on the dock. Like Ji, he was a man from the far east, and they looked close enough in appearance to be brothers. Sometimes when asked, they claimed they were. Gan was as strong as his constant companion, but favored the recurve bow over Ji's love of the musket. Gan also carried a curved saber as his hip instead of the straighter blade. He wore a dark green coat over a white shirt and breeches, bound up by a red silk sash.

"That was an easier voyage than I expected," Gan said with an easy smile. He reached up to scratch at the white scar that cut through his beard. "These Amazons really cast aside their famous ferocity when there's trade to be done, don't they?"

"You'll see it return tonight once they get your pants off," Serris joked, stepping up beside Bromm. "I'll take charge of Fortune if you want to go into town, captain."

"There shouldn't be much to fear," Bromm replied with an easy look around the port. They were far from the only foreigners here, as the quay practically crawled with sailors stacking crates of goods. The berth just beyond Fortune was occupied by a three-masted barque in the process of unloading a cargo of wine, furs, and amber under armed guard. "The Amazons are good hosts. If anyone is going to make trouble, it'll be the other foreigners."

"I'm not worried," Serris replied. He rested one hand casually on a flintlock pistol at his hip. "We're a crew of cold killers who've bested the Imperial Armada. What can these sea rats hope to accomplish against us?"

"Just remember that half our crew are sea rats," answered Bromm. "Speaking of which..."

Caturn approached, one arm around Brand's shoulder as he talked the younger man's ear off.

"...and into the pit they go! I can't tell you what's at the bottom of it, but whatever it is, it loves manflesh something fierce."

Brand shuddered, and Bromm scowled.

"Quit your tale-spinning, you old rat," Bromm barked. "You've got the boy seeing dragons in every shadow."

"Aye, dragons," the sea rat exclaimed, his eyes going to the sky as he spun another tale. "I saw one once, off Coldharbor. It was---"

"Oh, Eldrin's Breath! There's no end to your blabber, is there? Come on, let's go into town and see what the news is. Serris, mind the ship."

"Of course, captain. Look, they've finished loading the cart."

Bromm pulled on his black coat as a chill winter breeze cut across the harbor. He settled his broad red hat over his ears and gathered a small group of sailors. Reminding them to be on their best behavior, they set off behind the cart as its drover began to navigate the streets toward the warehouse.

Behind him, Caturn caught Brand looking with wonder at a trio of Amazons standing watch over the dock. They were tall and toned, in bronze cuirasses and greaves with helmets hanging from their hips. All three carried bows of horn and sinew, with long hewing spears resting against the wall behind them. Olive-skinned and dark haired, they were each possessed of a sharp beauty that the lad clearly found enticing.

"You ever seen an Amazon before today?" Caturn growled at Brand, pulling him along behind the captain. The young sailor shook his head. "Oh, you're in for it now. These islands are home to the fiercest women you'll ever meet. I bet you think you've met some fierce ones. Perhaps a bar wench who charged you double for rudeness? Ha! These Amazons are something else."

Bromm cast an amused look over his shoulder at Brand, who only shrugged helplessly as the old sailor continued his ramblings.

"I was aboard a ship once," the sea rat began, "we ran afoul of bad luck, made cheap sacrifices to Eldrin and He caused us to run aground off the Isle of Serpents. We were stuck just after high tide and had all day to wait until we could float again. While we were sitting there, left out on the sandbars like an ugly man's cock at a holy orgy, the Amazons came for us. They thought we were raiders, see, come to steal them away and sell them to the fighting pits or to the orcs as wives. Must have been a thousand of them, in great multi-decked galleys with the men rowing and the women ready to fight. More than galleys, they were. The big ones would rival a frigate in size.

"They came at us fast, surrounded the ship and tried to board screaming war cries showering us with arrows and shot. We were scared half to death. Their faces were painted red and black in all kinds of patterns, their galleys and shields were decorated scenes of war, the faces of jungle beasts or lightning bolts. The last was some kind of symbol of their elite warriors. Those were the worst. They are fearless warriors and fight completely naked, tits out and everything. Many of them fought topless, which caught some of our men off guard. Sailors out to sea many months, nary a woman in sight, do stupid things when they see one at last. One man, young and dumb and full of cum, quite like you, actually, climbed up the bowsprit when he saw them coming. The lead galley was captained by one of the thunderbolt women, naked but for her jaguar headdress and cloak of bird feathers. He called out to her, showed her his cock, and she threw a spear right through his heart. Killed him instantly.

"We fought all day and into the night, trying to keep them off the ship. They climbed through the gunports, up the stern and bow. They killed the captain. The first mate lost an arm. Nearly half our crew was killed before night fell. We had to throw our dead and many cannons overboard to ride higher in the waves and get free with the rising tide. Once we were free, we made for Buccaneer's Bay as fast as we could, always looking astern and fearing the warrior women in their boats."

"Why did they attack?" Brand asked, and Caturn barked a laugh in reply.

"Because we were there! They live for battle, son. They love nothing more than triumph in battle. A warrior's status is determined by the number of foes she slays in battle. Or brings back to the temple, where they go into the pits."

Brand audibly shuddered, and Caturn laughed again. "So think on that when one of those women is straddling your cock. She might like you in bed, but she'll like you more as a feather in her headdress."

"Caturn," Bromm barked, "you must have something better to do than terrify the lad with old tales?"

"Nay, captain. Tales is all I'm good for these days. Tales and sails, that's me. Did I ever tell you of the time I sailed with the Scion of Sostrum? He was looking for Kalis, you see..."

"Save it for the taverns. There will be plenty of time for your fibs in the evening, with drinks in hand. You might even snare an Amazon with one if you're bold enough."

"Snare an Amazon," Caturn said wistfully, "now that reminds me of a story I heard once. About Thoramar, and his feud with the queen of Lykyra."

Bromm sighed. Caturn rambled on with his tale of war and deceit, but soon enough they reached the warehouse and the Amazon drover pulled her cart to a halt. From her expression, she had heard enough of Caturn's tale.

"An interesting tale," said Brand as they at last arrived. "Though I'm not sure how much of it is true.

"All of it, my boy," Caturn reassured him unconvincingly. The sailors continued talk as they unloaded the cart and moved the goods into the warehouse. When they had finished, Bromm and the warehouse owner agreed on a price and money was exchanged. With their business settled, Bromm turned back to his crew.

"Alright, lads, let's get drunk!"

Bromm and the crewmen were settled into a tavern near the town's main square. His knowledge of the Amazon tongue was poor, but he could read the sign well enough; it read "the Diving Dolphin." Or at least he thought it did. The tavern was a stout wooden structure, with a high vaulted ceiling and a well-worn wooden floor of a dark hardwood native to the Amazon Isles. Great bronze chandeliers studded with candles hung from the ceiling and the walls bore the mounted heads of the islands' most ferocious beasts; leopards, crocodiles, catoblepas, thunder lizards, even a basilisk. Below them hung an assembly of helms of orcish make, dented and rent in many places.

The long tables, for the Amazons ate and drank communally, were growing increasingly crowded. First came the sailors from distant lands, the kingdoms of the Colathan Vale, Zahir, Varayazdh, the Auric Empire, and even some of the far-off lands beyond the Ivory Straits. They crowded at the tables in throngs sharing honeyed mead, good rum, and strong wine made from jungle fruits. The servants brought for them crusty black bread and dried berries to whet their appetites while they drank.

Bromm was two drinks in already, enjoying both a cup of rum and the story of Broceld, a corsair from Devil's Rock. The bushy-bearded man stood at one end of the table, his crewmen gathered around his feet, and waved two thick arms in the air.

"It's great arms thrashing about, it swept four of my men clean off the deck! There was no fighting a kraken after that, and I took the helm to drive us into shallow waters where it could not follow. But the beast had my beloved ship about her hull, and despite the wind she would not move. I gathered about me my best men and we ran for the longboat. It hit the water with a splash, and we leapt from the deck into the water as the ship's hull creaked and cracked around us. The other men saw us fleeing and many of them dove overboard as well, but the kraken picked them off one by one. With mighty strokes of the oar and mightier prayers to the gods, we made it to shore and were condemned to suffer the fate of watching my Griffon pulled under."

"You were marooned then? How did you make it off the island?" Brand asked over Bromm's shoulder. The young sailor was straining to through the crowd to see the speaker. Broceld looked down at him with a smile.

"The kraken moved on after a while, and we took to living on the island. Soon enough, we discovered a colony of mermaids living just off the shore of the island. We feasted with them, fucked them, and they brought us out to sea where we found a fishing ship and rode it back to Queensharbor."

"You fucked a mermaid?" one sailor in the crowd called out. "Now I know you're full of shit."

"It's true!" Broceld called back. "They are the loveliest creatures in all the sea."

"You've never seen a nereid, I take it?" Bromm called, and the other captain turned back to him."

"Nay, I have never been so blessed. Twenty years on the seas, and I've seen it all, but never that."

The door to the tavern opened and a trio of Amazons entered. They were young, with the youthful swagger that Bromm had seen in a thousand sailors and soldiers the world over. The leader of the group was a blonde woman with a pretty face and an easy smile. They wore decorated tunics and kilts of thick cloth under many-colored cloaks. Each of them wore a sword belt and a long, straight sword of iron. But their hands were not on their weapons today. They approached the table right away, all friendly smiles. The crowd parted to allow them to reach its edge, where they stopped and looked up to Broceld.

"Is this where the stories are told?" the leader asked. Her blue eyes sparkled with interest. Behind her, the other two Amazons exchanged amused and interested looks with sailors.

"It is, but I am afraid you've arrived at the tail end of my tale," Broceld said with theatrical apology.

"Well, you are sure to have more," the blonde Amazon replied easily. "Start up another!"

Bromm leaped onto the table. "Listen well, Amazons, for I've got a tale for you. It begins not long ago, two months past. Our heroes, the plucky crew of a ship called Fortune, led by her most daring captain; me."

"I'm surprised he didn't mention that the captain is handsome," one sailor muttered loud enough for the crowd to hear.

"I supposed that would be self-evident, good sir!" Bromm replied, and the crowd laughed. In particular, the pretty blonde Amazon laughed and met his eyes. Bromm winked back at her before continuing. "We were off Zephyr's Rest, anchored in a small cove to take on fish and fresh water from the locals. When all a sudden, my lookout spied a sail bearing down on us.

"From her bearing, it was clear she meant battle, and so we cast off as quickly as possible and made for the open sea. In time, she drew close enough to see she was a corvette of twenty guns, flying the Imperial Armada's flag."

"A most feared sight for any sailor!" one of the assembled men cried. Other voices chorused in agreement. "Damnable Golden Armada! Curse the emperor's name!"

"We made for the open water," Bromm continued, his eyes sweeping across the audience's faces. The blonde Amazon and her companions were watching with great interest and he hoped not to lose them. "Our Fortune is shallow on the draft and handles well into the wind, so we made for the windward reefs."

"There's naught who can outrun a pirate but another pirate!" cried one man and Bromm nodded.

"But the corvette had the wind at her back and we had an island in the way. She bore down on us afore we could make it away and soon the thunder of guns roared behind us. Shot streaked the length of our ship, shattering the taffrail and killing my carpenter. The poor man was standing beside me one moment and the next, he was slumping headless to the deck!"