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MYRINE By GENEVA Myrine, the young queen and absolute ruler of an ancient tribe of Amazons, uses a magic book to help her tribe endure and prosper, but she experiences many crises and enormous personal conflicts. An earlier story of mine, "A taste of Freedom", was based on a supposed 13th century society descended from the Amazons, and used a magic book with its origins in the Amazons. Based on that idea I wrote this story about an ancient (~700 B.C.) Amazon society which used magic scrolls to help it survive. START My name is Myrine, Men should fear me. Men who have crossed me or come in my power no longer exist. If I am generous, in their place there are young women, the most comely of whom I take as my personal slaves. Under my rigorous discipline they are trained and taught their new womanhood, then I dispose of them. That is my motto, my principle for how I guide my life. I say it often to remind myself of my duties. However, today is a fairly uneventful morning. I wake early and, helped by my six personal slaves, I bathe, dress , eat, and am made up with cosmetics appropriate to my high rank, with my dark hair coiled in a way that shows my golden crown. Now my slaves help me on with my robe of office. I watch them carefully as they attend to their tasks and I decide that they perform them well. They have come a long way since I changed them from men. This morning, like many others, I will be occupied by the many administrative and judicial matters of my domain. I am queen and absolute ruler of the small realm of Genoria by the shores of the Dark Sea* (the Black Sea). Its queens rule by succession. Thus, when I was eighteen, a year ago, I inherited the kingdom from my mother Aristanthe and she stepped aside, just as her mother, my grandmother, had earlier done for her. With their knowledge and experience my mother and my grandmother now act as my closest advisors. This arrangement for succession ensures that the queen is young and vigorous, and able to lead her warriors into battle if necessary. I am also the supreme military commander, but, as my general Kliomache is well trained and more experienced in arms and warfare, I defer to her for many military decisions. My realm is a gynarchy, for women, of women. There are no free men in my lands. For any that come into my domain, accidentally or deliberately, their days as men are numbered. It is the same with any who have been captured in war. Genoria began some centuries ago. Its women are descended from an offshoot of the ancient civilization of the Amazons. After some turmoil a group of the Amazon women split off from the others. Our official history says that it was a succession dispute, but I have also been told that many women in the Amazon society, after much discussion and unrest, wished to have men participate in their society. Some two hundred or so of the women who rejected this betrayal of their heritage, along with their daughters, separated from the rest of the tribe and migrated further along the coast in order to maintain their old traditions. They found a valley well surrounded by natural barriers, steep mountains on two sides, the sea on another and treacherous marshes on another side, and founded their new city-state there. Soon after the split, these, my ancestors came in contact with a group of Trojan women who were being transported to slavery by agents of their Greek captors after the fall of Troy. When the ships were driven on our coast in a storm my ancestors slew the male captors and the freed women were glad to join our society. Many of my subjects can trace their ancestry back to these women. Our society may be greatly influenced by the Greeks, but we are not part of them. When my ancestors split from the rest of the Amazons they took with them special scrolls containing copies of ancient spells used by the Amazons. These are mainly healing spells for injuries and illnesses and the defects that sometimes children are born with, but there is also a spell that helps our society to survive. It can change men into women! Apart from my mother and grandmother, I use a council of senior women to advise me. These are women with years of experience and represent my subjects. I often ask their opinion, although I need not follow it. My domain is protected and patrolled by a standing army of trained female warriors. We wage war by determination, stealth and bravery to keep our independence from other kingdoms, and especially from the influence of men. To protect our society, all girls are trained in fighting from age five, as well as skills appropriate to their age, and domestic activities such as cooking, sewing.They are also instructed on our history and the responsibilities and benefits of our way of life. These are necessary to preserve our special society. When they are ten years old, those that have shown special fighting skill are separated and given more extensive training in arms and war. They will become warriors. The others become the farmers, artisans or merchants or whatever their mothers advise for them. I move with as stately a walk as I can manage with my long heavy official robes into my throne room with two of my personal slaves bearing its long train. I first stand to survey the audience, and let my queenly presence be visible. I then slowly lower myself onto the throne of state, ready to attend to the business of the realm and to receive the day's supplicants. My mother has come too, ready to advise me if necessary. My chancellor Kore, a wise senior woman of our society, bows and places the day's agenda in my hands. The first item on the list is the important matter of repairing the walls of our city. Some older sections of the wall have known war and I have been advised that a determined invader could breach them. If we are not able to defeat any enemy in open battle, we could be forced to retreat to the city and shelter behind its walls and it is imperative that it be fortified well against any future invaders. Today I listen as the senior mason comes forward and gives me her advice about using cut stone from the quarries. She tells me that one section of the wall was built previously with rough stones gathered from the nearby area but structure is weakening and could crumble. I am shocked when the she has the temerity to suggest hiring male labor from outside our realm to complete the heavy work, and at my angry protest she stops. I absolutely insist that we cannot have men knowing our vulnerable points. "Please, my queen," she pleads, "the work is hard and dangerous. Some of our subjects have been killed or injured in the past. If we used male workers from outside, any injuries they sustain need be of no concern to us." "No," I reply, "it is too dangerous for our security. No man should become familiar with our defenses. Remember, this is a society of women. We cannot allow men to take part at all. It would be the thin edge of the wedge!" "As you wish, my queen." She backs away from me, red faced. She will be more careful another time. Next I have an unpleasant duty. A captain of my guards brings a young woman called Nephele before me. I think the captain's manner is a bit officious, but it is my duty to hear her. She tells that the young woman had shown some suspicious activities and had been followed several times at nights by some guards trained for our domain's security. They had followed her up into the woods near a pass that allows access to my kingdom or if we were ever so inclined, the way out to flee from an invader. The captain tells that the woman had aroused suspicion earlier by her activities at the Temple of Ishtar. "And what did you discover? Give me the details!" She clears her throat and stands importantly. "It was noticed by the priestess Xana at the monthly visit to the Temple of Ishtar that this woman, three times in succession, chose the same man from the neighboring tribe to lie with. "As we thought it likely that that her liaison had gone further than permitted by our laws, we had her followed for some days. She was watched as she left the city and went up the mountain. There she met that same man, removed her clothes and lay with him." The guard hesitates a bit and I gesture impatiently for her to continue. "It was noticed especially that they kissed and caressed each other more than necessary. Then, after some hours, they took leave of each other. It was noticed that she was crying each time they parted. She met the man three nights in the last week." I sit back to think. It is necessary for our society that men and women lie together to procreate, but long-term alliances are dangerous. Her first duty is to our society and not to any man. Nephele is on her knees in front of me, her hands bound behind her back. Her face is streaked with tears and her long hair straggles over her face. The name is familiar and when I look at her closely I recognize her. She had once worked in my palace, but had left to take up weaving. I give no sign that I know her. "What do you have to say in explanation?" I demand. Her face is white with fear. She struggles to speak. "Please, Highness, I have tried to be a good citizen and I would never betray my sisters in this realm. But I love him. I want to be with him more. I want to feel him caress me. I love it when he enters me. Please. I will betray no one. If I see him often it also means that I can produce a child more easily. That is surely good?" I glare at her. "By meeting him as you did, away from the formal Temple of Ishtar arrangements and its rituals, you have betrayed us all. In the past women such as you were executed for treason!" As she begins to whimper, I think of the penalties available, but my mother's face shows pity and I hesitate. "I will be merciful. I am tempted to have you whipped and branded as a traitor to us. I will be lenient, but I sentence you to be banished from my domain for two years. You have two hours to leave! You will be escorted to our boundaries. After two years you may return if you so wish. For the present, you will be able to seek out that man. Probably by the time you find him he will have forgotten you," I sneer. She cries out and is pulled away in tears. No doubt she will feel more tears in her exile but I wonder if she will try to return to our society after her term of exile expires. I am annoyed as theaffair also means that a man has penetrated our defenses many times recently. I call the guard to me and berate her for her carelessness. "Make sure that our defenses are secure!" I command finally. The woman had first met the man at the Temple of Ishtar. This is a wooden and stone structure set up by the side of the mountain pass that marks the easterly limit of the realm. It is barely within the lands we call our territory, as we do not wish men to trespass further into them. With its significance in our society the temple is an important building and we give it and its grounds suitable care and respect. It is well over a century old and has been continually expanded and decorated, from its simple beginnings as a structure constructed of hewn logs to its present complex of rooms and gardens. From the original two hundred women, we now number around five thousand. We have an established and reasonably prosperous society, self sufficient for all our needs but one. The one contact we do require, unfortunately, is that to produce children. We need men. For that, we use the men of neighboring tribes, who we permit, under strict control, to come to us by way of the mountain pass to the temple. The meetings with men are set at the full moon of each month, after sunset. When a horn is sounded by one of the temple's priestesses the waiting men from some neighboring tribes will file in. Often there are many present for the event. All men who wish to participate must pay a fee before entry. There is a fixed price per visit, counted in the coinage accepted along this coast. It supports the upkeep of the temple. All men must take a ritual bath before they are allowed into the next stage. It is necessary for the benefit of the women, as some men smell rancid after their labors in the workshops, fields or forests. Once washed, they are required to stand, completely naked, in a row while our women walk past them, inspect them and select among them who they will choose to lie with. One by one, the women, leads the man to the room designated for the lying together, or retreats to any of the side rooms. Sometimes the women feel more pressed and the coupling occurs right there on the floor. Some men are desperate too, but if they are too forceful, they are expelled as this is for my women's benefit, not for them. On one inspection visit, as head of state, I have watched the couples, intrigued, yet slightly repulsed by the gasps and groans, and occasional little screams and cries. I do not like it that my women sometimes cry out, but it has been impossible to stop them, despite numerous proclamations. The ritual lasts throughout the night. The priestesses have told me that some women test out many men, and that is probably a good thing as they have more chance of becoming with child. However, our society treats with suspicion any woman who develops a bond with a particular man and lies with him only. The priestesses watch diligently for transgressors like the woman I have just exiled. As the temple is in our territory, the men are permitted to remain at the temple only until the sun rises above the mountain to the east. After that, they are permitted a brief time to retrieve their clothing and they must depart. I have heard it told that some men have been too tardy and have been driven out naked from the temple when their time was up. Our women are allowed to take their time to dress. When I visited there some years ago for an inspection I was amused when I heard excited chatter as the women compared experiences. However, the purpose of the ritual is not for pleasure, although it is obvious that almost all of the women find pleasure in it. Rather, the purpose is to expand our numbers. Without children our special society would end. Women who become with child are allowed only two more visits to the temple and must keep away from it the last six months before the child is born. When a woman is due to give birth, she is attended by several women trained for that purpose. At the birth an official recorder examines the child. Cheers and prayers of thanks to Ishtar follow the announcement of a girl. The mother is comforted when a male child is born, but she knows that within one week, if the child seems healthy, the transformation spell will be read to the child and soon after that she can rejoice that she too has a daughter. Some infants die from the effects of the spell, but that cannot be helped. Better they die than they remain as males in our society. As the number of our citizens has expanded, so too has the temple. Now, about a hundred of our women undergo the monthly pilgrimage. I smile to myself. The men of the closest neighboring tribe have proved unequal to the task. Possibly their wives' objections have had an effect. Now many men come from further afield. Most girls of our city state have started to bleed monthly by the time they are fifteen. It is then that there is a serious and important event in their lives; they are told about the generation of life and the role men play in it. Almost all have never seen a man except in pictures. When first shown pictures or drawings of men many shriek in horror, even more when they hear the details of how a woman has union with a man in order to start a child. Many need comforted, and assurances from their mothers or others that it is necessary and their duty for our society to continue. They may also need gentle persuasion when it is their time to go to the temple. Some are disgusted by the process. That is expected, but all are taught that it is their duty, when it comes their turn, to make pilgrimages to the Temple of Ishtar. The next item in my court's business is minor, a dispute between two stall owners in a bazaar. I am annoyed that such trivial matters are brought before me, but it is my responsibility to give a decision. The women bow in my presence and I ask each to tell her side of the dispute. When one speaks, her adversary tries to protest, but at a look from me she is silent. I have made it known that I tolerate no such indecorous behavior in my presence. The first woman keeps her tongue while the second woman tells her side of the affair, but her eyes flash in indignation. I give my judgment, that the first has the far greater part of the blame. I berate her and impose a fine on her for my time. The second is given a warning too, to be a more tolerant citizen. The next item is that of a woman who has severely assaulted another over a trivial dispute. I sentence her to five strokes of the lash and my guards pull her outside. The punishment will be administered immediately. As the day is becoming warm and sticky I decide to take a brief break from the proceedings. I withdraw to another chamber, remove my outer robe of office, and call for one of my slaves to bring me some water and a wet cloth for my hands. Returning to the throne room I take up the agenda to get the background for the rest of the morning's work but I have barely started on it when Kore pushes to the front, accompanied by my military commander Kliomache and her aide Cleome. All look very concerned. "An urgent matter, my Queen," Kore says, slightly out of breath. " It is also confidential. Kliomache has just brought it to my attention." I wonder what causes Kore to interrupt me. "Well?" I ask. I dismiss my attendant slaves and gesture for Kore and Kliomache to follow me to a smaller, more private room. Kore begins. "May it please your majesty, if you will so permit...." I look at her impatiently. I expect my subjects to defer to me and respect me, but sometimes there are delays to communication when some, like Kore, get too preoccupied with formalities. "My queen," Kliomache speaks, interrupting. She is a tall, well built, strong, blonde woman with piercing blue eyes. Her manner is very assertive. I know that her mother came from the lands north of the sea. "My queen. Our lands are in danger. Just this morning I received a report from a spy who I placed in the neighboring kingdom, Ceradol. I believe that the king there has started to assemble an army. And probably means to invade us!" she adds emphatically. I have been told that the king of Ceradol is called Cereus. I purse my lips as I think about the threat. Ceradol is larger than Genoria, with more than double its population. "How do you know this?" I ask. " You know that I have several spies established in the neighboring lands. One of them has lived in Ceradol many years and has made an acquaintance with a commander in their army." Kliomache hesitated. "She has made herself .....uh....available to lie with him so that she has his confidence. When lying with him two nights ago he let slip that his army was in training. Also that his men are assembling close to our borders." I am immediately filled with anger and apprehension. It is years since any of our neighbors have attempted any invasion. "Better be sure of this! What do you know? Give me more details, everything you know of Cereus' forces." Kliomache goes through all that she knew. What she has found out suggests a planned invasion. Cereus' armorers have been busy, and a call had gone out to all the male subjects to be ready for war. This is a serious and urgent matter and takes precedence over any other business that morning. I hurry back to the throne room and address my audience. I hold up my hand for silence. "My subjects," I speak out, "A matter of great concern has arisen. I must give it my full attention. My court is canceled until further notice." There are groans from some and a murmur of concern from others but the room soon clears and I summon Kore, Kliomache, Cleome and my scribe Heria to a council room close to my private quarters. Facing the attempted invasion will be a serious matter. I personally could be dispossessed, but even worse, all my subjects might be captured and enslaved, and our civilization could vanish. I listen to Kliomache's advice and I make my decision. "Kore, announce that all of our army is to be on a war footing. There must be immediate training to refresh their war skills. We have reserves too. Call them to the city square immediately for training! All weapons must be inspected and edges sharpened. All of the metal workers and armorers must be summoned for this and to make new weapons and armor. The walls of the city must be inspected, and the ground cleared for a hundred paces around the city to help our archers. New bows and arrows must be made." Kore bows. "It will be done, Queen Myrine." I have been told that our Amazon ancestors prided themselves on their ability to match men and defeat them in single combat, but, to be realistic, I know that few women, not even my well-trained warriors, can compete in physical strength with men. Thus, on any battlefield or skirmish grounds, it has been the policy of our warriors to avoid close contact with any male warriors. It has been a successful strategy in the past. Thus, I require all my warriors to be skilled archers. A killing arrow can be easily directed by a woman. My warriors have also been trained to use throwing axes and knives. We also have a small troop of cavalry. These are trained to ride the enemy down and slash with their long curved swords or lances. They also use hooks on poles to pull down opposing horsemen. During the first years of my mother's reign we fought off several attempted invasions by neighboring tribes seeking to extend their territory, or perhaps to enslave us, but this will be the first invasion of my rule. There are more preparations to be made for provisioning the city in case of siege. We have stocks of grain and dried meat but I order these to be checked. The city is well supplied with water from several wells. For our army, we rapidly plan our strategy for resistance to the enemy. The Ceradol territory adjoins ours, but is separated by almost impenetrable mountains. There is only one pass that could allow any sort of force to invade. I summon one of the women who are familiar with the boundaries to my domain and confirm this with her. "Yes, my queen, there is only one pass into our kingdom from the Ceradol territory. There was an earlier lower pass that became totally blocked in your mother's reign by a landslide. The remaining pass is high and goes through a narrow steep ravine that is very treacherous. My opinion is that an invasion would have to take place from the sea." "Our coast is very rocky, and the few beaches are surrounded by high cliffs. There is only our harbor and that is well protected," Kore comments. "We should be sure of our defenses. Better send a scout to investigate the pass," I insist. I discuss the preparations with Kliomache. "We need more information. Get your spy to find out more, as much as possible without warning the enemy. Oh yes, commend her for her good work. She deserves a reward." The next days are filled with great activity, as we hurry to get ready for the expected invasion. As I have commanded, all our forces are soon drilled and weapons sharpened. Stocks of food are brought into the city in case of siege. The monthly meeting of our women with men at the Temple of Ishtar is also cancelled. Some days later we hear from our spy. The enemy's plans are to start their invasion in three days. They plan to invade by way of the narrow path through the mountains, the one that has been thought almost impassable. The scout confirms that the pass, although narrow, can be negotiated. It is time to start our forces moving. We are as ready as we can be. I have my personal slaves bring out my armor and weapons. I swing my sword to test it. It feels well balanced, but I hope I will not be forced to defend myself at close quarters. Like all of my subjects, I have been trained in arms since I was a girl, but Kliomache is more skilled than I and better trained. I suppose I will not fight much, but it is important that I be there as an example to my women warriors. Like Kliomache and the rest of my army, I have armor and I don it with the help of my slaves. They are anxious and I have to reprimand two of them for their sniveling. I have a short skirt, reaching only to my knees, made of overlapping sections of thick leather hanging from my waist. It is heavy but it will protect my belly and thighs. My bronze breastplate covers me from the waist to the neck. A thick leather collar at my neck protects that vulnerable area. Finally, a bronze helmet covers most of my face apart from my eyes, mouth and chin. There is a plume of black horsehair at its crest. I have a more elaborate plume for ceremonial wear, being queen, but I do not want to be a target for the enemy's archers. My red cloak will be discarded before battle. As befitting my rank I ride on a horse beside Kliomache during our advance but each time when we stop for rests I dismount and move among the infantry to talk to them, encourage them and show my comradeship. It is important that the women know I will share their work and trials. The march up to the mountain pass takes the rest of the first day. It is late winter and it is cold at the pass. We heat our evening meal over low fires and settle in for the night under blankets, with sentries posted. In the morning Kliomache and I look over the expected invasion route. As the scout described, the pass is narrow, with an overgrown track barely wide enough for two men to come through at a time, but once through, on our side it widens to an open area, almost flat, leading gently down from the pass, and then to another flattish area covered with large rocks, trees and bushes. We finalize our plans and set to making wooden barricades or walls from piles of rocks, but in the center we leave a clear space. Kliomache's scouts continually patrol the other side of the pass and the next afternoon one of them bursts back through the pass to tell us that the enemy has advanced very close to the pass and could enter it in less than an hour. We all retire behind the barricades that we built among the rocks and trees. Soon a few men, then more, begin to appear from the pass. The first through look around cautiously, but seeing no sign of resistance they begin to relax and even laugh as others follow them through. Kilomache holds up her hand to hold our fire until about two hundred of the enemy have advanced through the pass. I am getting nervous, with the increasing numbers of armed enemy until, at Kliomache's signal, our hidden archers release a shower of arrows into the men. It catches them completely by surprise. They shout in panic and, as the first men fall, the others try to set up a wall of shields, but the arrows come from three sides and they do not have time. Soon, dozens of the men have fallen. Although some rally and try to charge forward to tackle the archers they are soon cut down by further volleys, and their line begins to waver. Kliomache then signals for our cavalry, who are waiting hidden in the trees further down from the pass. The hooves of their horses pounding the stony ground, they charge up the open area into the disorganized men and run them down, their long spears picking off victims. When they reached the pass they wheel about and ride back, slashing with their long bronze swords. Yet again they turn but by then the enemy has had enough and, abandoning their shields and heavy armor, the survivors run back through the pass, followed by more of our arrows. At Kliomache's trumpet call the cavalry again retreat to beyond our barricades and we wait tensely in case of another attack. Even after two hours there is no sound, other than the groans from wounded men. Kliomache sends a scout over the pass. She returns an hour later, smiling. "My queen, " she announces, " the enemy have retreated well down their side of the mountain. I think they are still falling back. We have won!" My warriors break out into cheering but Kliomache wants to be sure and calls all the captains of our forces to report. It is better than we had hoped. We have had an overwhelming victory, but two of our women are dead. One determined enemy warrior had run to them and cut them down with his long sword before he fell with three spears in him. But lying on the ground there are more than a hundred of the enemy. As I look at the dead and wounded enemy and say a prayer of thanks to Ishtar. I am glad that I insisted the pass be checked. Otherwise we might have had the enemy among us. I try to ignore the corpses and the groaning wounded and plan our next actions. Like Kliomache, I am worried that Cereus will try another attack, but there is a task to be done and we send some warriors out among the enemy. They slowly pick their way among the corpses and the wounded. This is a part I do not like, but they invaded us and would have enslaved us. All who are seriously wounded with body injuries have their throats cut. It is a merciful and quick death. Otherwise they will die painfully in a day or so. I send my physician among those with less serious injuries to see what could be done. Some others I take aside and treat them myself with a spell from one of my magic scrolls. Some of the spells in the scrolls heal injuries, sometimes even quite grievous wounds. I prefer to use these spells for my own subjects only, but I am feeling merciful after our great victory. The men's eyes grow wide when they see their deep cuts close up and heal in minutes, leaving only fine scars. They are in awe of me. That will be a good start. At some times in the past the warriors of our realm have slain all male captives. Other times, the captives have been disposed of as slaves, by trading along the coast. This is the first time I have had to make a decision. Possibly, those that heal can be enslaved or held for ransom, or I may have something else for them. I will have to think about their fate when the campaign is over. It is a great victory, but it has its cost too with the two of own woman who are dead. I am upset at their loss, but I cannot show weakness to my forces. The fallen women will be taken back for honorable funerals. Some other of my warriors have suffered minor injuries and I soon move among them, using the healing spells from my scrolls. As I look among the captives, I have an idea. I remember that my own slave girl attendants have reached a high level of training. As it is my usual practice to free my slaves when I am satisfied they have learned to be women, I will soon need fresh slaves. Looking round the captives I decide that some of them could be selected, changed into women by a spell from my scrolls and trained as slaves. I examine the captives carefully. There are about two dozen survivors. Right away I eliminate any who are older. Older men can die under the transformation spell. I want youths. There are nine of these. Some have taken arrows through limbs, and although I have healed them, I discard these. That leaves me with four who have not suffered any injuries other than bruises and grazes. They have probably been run down by our cavalry and knocked unconscious. But one of these has a partly withered right leg. I admire his spirit in being a warrior, and I decide I will make his leg whole using one of my spells. He will be grateful to me, but I place him with the larger group of the captives. I order the three remaining captives to be taken aside and tied together by their necks. I will have all of the rest of the prisoners also tied together and herded down from the pass to our city. We are about to leave when I have another look around the corpse-littered battlefield. I do not wish the bodies to lie there for the animals, although tempted. I suppose a few human bones scattered around might deter future invaders. I discuss it with Kliomache. "What will we do here? We cannot take them and I do not want the bodies left there to rot." "What if we allow Cereus to remove them? It is an honorable treatment of their dead. Also, if his army and his citizens see the cost of their attempted invasion they may think twice about another attempt." I agree and Kliomache summons one of the scouts. "Go back over the pass," she orders. "Take a flag of truce and try to contact the other army. Tell them that if they send two men only at a time, and unarmed, I will permit them to remove their dead." We wait several anxious hours. It grows late and we have to camp for yet another night. In case of a night attack Kliomache posts many sentries but they are not needed. We even wait some time in the morning and I grow anxious for my scout's safety as sometimes flags of truce have not been respected but at last she returns and tells that Cereus has agreed. Kliomache sends her back with our permission and we watch carefully from the cover of the trees as she, followed by a pair of unarmed men, cautiously emerges from the pass. I spur my horse forward and repeat the conditions. The men look up at me warily but they pick up a corpse and carry it back through the pass. In several minutes two more emerge and remove another body. So it continues for several hours until all of the dead are removed. We keep our forces hidden all that time. It is better if they do not know how many of us there are. That done, we retreat down the hill to the city with our prisoners, leaving guards at the pass to warn us of any possible future attack. In my palace courtyard I have all the prisoners lined up. I inspect them again, separate the three that I think will be suitable for personal slaves and have them taken aside. The others will be sold as slaves outside our domain. If they tell of their capture it may act as a deterrent to those who would invade us, but I have special plans for them as well to make sure that their days as warriors are over. Sometimes when our city waged war in the past, and we have captured men, they were enslaved of course, but if they looked like good healthy specimens they were permitted one night with any of the women of our tribe who wished to lie with them. That way our women might produce strong children. The men would be chained, of course. When their services were done they were kept imprisoned until they could be sold off. After some thought, I decide not to allow that. It is too risky and I order the bulk of the prisoners to be put in a large cell underneath the palace. I will visit them later and eventually Kore or someone she delegates will make arrangements for their sale. I am more concerned about the three I have earlier selected. They are to become my personal slaves and I will personally supervise their training. They are sitting in chains in the courtyard, looking very apprehensive. I approach them, draw my sword out of its scabbard and stand over them. "You invaded my lands. Your lives are forfeit," I say in as stern a voice as I can. I feel a little pleasure when I see them grow pale and I wave my sword slowly by their throats. "But I am prepared to be merciful, " I say. " I will give you a choice. I have a magic incantation that will make you three into beautiful young women." I ignore their shocked looks. "Then, as women, you will serve me as slaves and attendants. If you show promise, learn well and show complete obedience to my wishes, I will free you at some point. You will even be permitted to join our society with all the rights of its citizens. If you do not accept this, you will join the rest of the captives that I have sent to the dungeon. They are to be sold as slaves at some of the markets along the coast. No doubt they will remain slaves the rest of their lives. Which do you choose, life as a slave, or as a free woman? But, I warn you. If you choose to be changed to women, you will remain that way forever. Your life as men will be gone." I see the shock and indecision on their faces and all begin crying for mercy but I remain silent. I will not negotiate with them. Life as a slave outside my realm would not be pleasant. Many slaves are worked to death within a year or so of being enslaved. I give them a minute and I repeat the choice. One clenches his teeth but remains silent apart from a giving me a nod of approval. Another bursts into tears, but he hangs his head and eventually agrees. The other takes even longer to decide, but soon he too utters. "Yes, I accept", in a hoarse voice. "Then you all agree? I will deal with you in a few hours." I call my guards and have the three taken to another of the cells below the palace and locked in a large cage. I go to my private chamber and I take out a little box from its secret hiding place. Only my mother and I know its whereabouts. I remove a bundle from the box, unwrap the scrolls from their silk cloth wrapping and select the appropriate one. As queen, I have charge of these scrolls. They have passed down to queens of our realm through the generations. They are said to be of great antiquity, at least as ancient as our society. Previously my mother used them, and her mother before her. They are supposed to have originated with the Amazons. There is not much to look at, just a dozen or so pieces with old writing on them. However, the spells are not written on ordinary parchment. Instead they are on prepared human skin. I have been told that the human skin is necessary for the spells to work. No one knows which spell-maker first composed the magic incantations in the scrolls or where the skin came from but they are powerful. The scroll I used after the battle has spells to heal injuries or wounds. Other spells cure illnesses, or cure cast-eyes, hunchbacks, club feet, withered limbs and other birth defects. One helps in child delivery. But there is one that helps our society 's existence. I think this spell is also necessary for our realm to continue. It is my favorite spell, one that which when read, any man hearing it becomes female. It works with boys and male infants as well. This spell allowed the later Amazons to change any male into a female. Thus any male children born of the women could be changed to females and kept in the tribe, not returned to their fathers as the very original Amazons practiced. We have no contact with the original tribe of Amazons from which we sprung. Perhaps they no longer exist. The first time any women hear the spell they have an hour or so of discomfort, but all soon recover and actually become more beautiful. However, that is almost unnecessary as most of my subjects are quite beautiful already. Many of the women in my realm have been exposed to the spell and they seem to pass their beauty on to their daughters so that the beauty of our women is praised all along the coast. If a woman subsequently hears the spell she suffers no effects. I myself have administered the spell to many men in the past, and have suffered no bad effects. With two guards to protect me I unroll the scroll in front of the larger group of prisoners and I read the spell out to them in a clear voice. They look at me, some curious, some puzzled, some wary and some apprehensive. In a short time I see the spell beginning its transformation. In contrast to women, when the spell is read to men like these captives, they first begin to shiver, then fall unconscious.as the spell's effects begin.When they awake almost two days later they will wake as women. The effect of the spell on men is severe. Some older men die from it and those that survive are disoriented for some days. I have decided that this group will be sold as female slaves along the coast. The shivering is only slight at first but soon it gets more severe. As they hunch over it becomes even more pronounced and their eyes begin rolling in terror. Their bodies begin shaking. "Please have mercy," one gasps, but I shake my head. In another few minutes they are all unconscious. I gesture to my guards, and they remove the bonds on the prisoners' arms. At another nod they cut off their male clothing. I watch for a minute or two as the shivering becomes even more violent, then I see it subsiding as the changes begin. Little shimmering waves start running over their bodies. These are subtle changes, each time the body shortening and the proportions and features slightly changing. Their shoulders narrow, their waists even more, emphasizing their widening hips. Soon their male parts shrink into their groins and almost disappear. The small mounds at their crotches split and the complex folds of women start forming, their nipples and areolas become more prominent and the mounds of breasts slowly swell on their chests. The faces are rearranged too. They are now softer and smoother, those of women. Finally the bodies below me are women's, although they look blotched and fevered, and they still have male hair, although this will soon fall out. Two have not changed much. They are dead and I have the bodies removed. Some men cannot take the stress of the change. This group will wake in about two days, as women. In the past I have been amused at the shock on the former men's faces when they find themselves in new bodies. It is especially satisfying to see the large brutish ones transformed into graceful females. Sometimes I specially train some of the most comely and give them as presents to queens of neighboring kingdoms. There is one strange part about this spell. While the bodies become totally female, the minds of those transformed take much longer to adjust, usually several months. After that time they usually fully accept their new bodies and are happy to live as beautiful women. Their slavery as beautiful women will be easier than as male slaves. It is now time to deal with the three other captives that I selected. The scroll in my hand, I make my way back down to their cell, two of my serving women with me. They look paler than usual, under their women's makeup. Perhaps they remember the time when they too underwent the spell and their shock at finding themselves in totally different bodies. The three new captives look at me warily. "You are ready?" I ask. "Then I will begin." It only takes a minute to unroll the scroll and read the spell. I think they are surprised that it does not work immediately, and two watch me in varying degrees of apprehension and are trembling. The other looks at me with skepticism, a faint smile on his mouth. "What now? You have another prank for us?" I stare at him. "You do not believe me? You will soon see that I am in earnest." He still keeps a faint smile on his mouth and it annoys me." My two lovely attendants here, they were once men. Ask them if it is a prank!" He looks at their pale beautiful female faces and he gulps. They are made up as women. Their hair is in a woman's style and ornamented. They wear women's clothing. They have graceful female figures. "Another thing, you will address me now and in the future as mistress!" I snap. " For your information the spell will begin to work in a minute or so." It is as I said. In five minutes or so I see the skeptical one begin to shiver, then the other two also start shivering as the effects of the spell begin. I leave the three under the watchful eye of one of my slaves. She will report any problems. My own part is done for the present. They will not wake up for a day and a half. I have seen the changes many times and they fascinate me, but I have other duties to attend to. I take especial pleasure in training those I have selected as attendants. While I usually free them when they have adjusted completely to their new identities those of my attendants who have not learned their place properly are given more rigorous training. If that does not work they are branded as a punishment and sold away. Making these transformations is not only my responsibility. There are a number of women in our society who I sometimes ask to supervise the use of the spell, especially my mother, but it is a task that is expected of me, and I relish doing it. I repeat my motto. My name is Myrine, I am the destroyer of men. I am not my mother's only daughter. I have two younger sisters. Silene has taken no interest in matters of state and works as a scribe. I have an even younger sister, Hermia. She is only a girl and has not yet started women's monthly bleeding. This society is composed entirely of women or girls. All the farmers who supply the food are women. It is the same with builders, artisans, merchants and warriors. All are women. Of course, if our society is to carry on, there must be children to carry on our line. All women of this realm are expected to participate in the rituals of the Temple of Ishtar, but our laws do not absolutely insist on it. The first days after birthing children and then starting to nurse the infants can exhaust the mothers. Accordingly my citizens live in groups, which we call ' tables', consisting of a dozen or so adults. The name has its origin from when the groups sat around tables to plan their lives. In these, tables, any new mother is cared for by the rest of the group. Later, as she resumes her work as weaver, farmer, carpenter or leather worker or other trade, she needs to have the child with her for nursing. Then when the child is beginning to move around, a designated woman in the table takes over many of the duties. When one or more of the table are unable to work, the others in it care for them. That is not the only purpose of the table. Each sends a representative to a council, and each of these councils provides a representative to a higher council. It is from these that I receive ten women who I call on, with senior women, to advise me if necessary. Our borders are mainly secure, but in wars some men have been captured, as happened in this recent battle. Some other men, such as mariners, hunters or merchants have accidentally strayed into our territory. If captured, these men have been given the option of being changed into women by the spell from my book. Or death. Needless to say, most chose to be changed. Once the spell has taken its effect they invariably find their new bodies a shock, but most come to accept them and eventually live happily as women. I also have a scroll with a magic spell that will undo the change. There is even a spell that will change women into men. I suppose it was devised in case too many men from neighboring friendly tribes who supplied the male visitors for the Temple of Ishtar were killed off in wars with other tribes. The next day, after a refreshing sleep, I have another duty, a sad one, but one that is necessary. I attend the funeral of the two women who were killed in the battle. It will be a state funeral to honor them. One was a professional warrior. She was quite young and had not yet visited the Temple of Ishtar. Our warriors are not expected to visit the temple until they are twentyfive years old. The other was a little older. A reserve warrior, she has two young daughters. They stand in the square, one weeping, the younger one a bit bewildered. The other members of the dead woman's table are there too. They will see to the bringing up of the woman's two daughters. The city's head priestess, Satarche, will officiate and I have my own part to play. The other warriors of our army stand at attention in the square by the palace. To the sound of drums beating, the dead women are carried in on biers, their bodies draped in scarlet cloth. They are laid reverently on piles of logs soaked with scented oil. I stand by the corpses and give the eulogy. I stress their sacrifice for our society, and that they were examples to their tables and to the children. I use it as an opportunity to praise our society and encourage the other citizens. Satarche takes a torch and lights the two piles of wood and we watch while the flames roar up. The heat is intense and we have to move back. It will take time for the flames to burn down and there is a guard of two soldiers and a priestess to watch them. When the fire has burned down and the ashes are cooled, they will be put into urns and set in a prominent place in the quarters of their tables. The tables will also get a pension to help with the children. The day after the funeral I take a more leisurely morning. As usual my slave girls attend to me, bathe me and help me dress in my official dark red silk robes. The two of my slaves who have been given special training in cosmetics attend to my toilette and grooming. My face is prepared, with blood red for my lips and gold around my eyes. I have eaten earlier, some fruits from our orchards, and some spicy fish caught by our fisherwomen and prepared in my kitchens. The audience rises dutifully as I enter my throne room, the train of my robes held by another two of my slaves. They drape the fabric at my feet and retire modestly behind me while I stand before my gilded throne. I stare at each, trying to catch their eyes. way it will appear that I am familiar with them and I am watching each of them. They look like an average selection of my subjects. Some will be directly connected with my decisions today. Others are merely curious. All present then bow before me and I sit down. Kore has brought along a list of the day's activities. There are some legal matters to be decided and decisions to be made. This is my responsibility, but occasionally I delay decisions to ask some of my wise women for advice. I am absolute ruler of the kingdom but I also ask my mother for guidance. Today she has come to the court and sits just behind me. The main item today is some matters on the training of our army. The army is not large but after the recent battle new equipment is needed, and fresh horses. It has cost us enough to resist the enemy, but they have suffered more. Previously, we had not needed the army and I hope that our reputation is now greatly feared. We will have to maintain it. We did not seek the recent war. We were forced into it preserve our way of life. I hope that the danger is ended with the battle. We were wise to be prepared for war, even though we have had years of peace. On other business, there are some more disputes to be settled. Once these are over I take a light meal, wash my face and arms and have my slaves make me up afresh. I feel myself growing tired of business, but the next part of my duties is also important for my position and rank. One afternoon each week I sit on a covered dais outside my palace to be seen and often approached by my subjects. This is a less formal arrangement than when I give my judgments and deliberations when in my throne room, but I often obtain useful information and a better feel of the mood of my subjects. Some citizens will approach me to flatter me. Some will come with stupid petitions, but there are valuable things too. As with the formal proceedings, I either make immediate decisions, or refer the matter to Kore. My duties done, it is time to relax. One of my favorite activities, if that is the word, is to go into my gardens, and among the budding flowers and trees, attended by my slave girls, relax with fruit juice or wine. One of my slaves has shown musical talents and I have her sing to me or play the lute or pipes. I allow the slaves to talk more casually and freely than at other times and often from their comments I can gauge the mood of my subjects on various matters. The garden is on a hillside by the palace. It looks north, sloping down to the sea. In the summer, under the shade of the high place wall, it is pleasantly cool. My gardeners have planted it with many trees, cedars with dense branches that gave even more shade in parts. I have had the garden terraced, with marbled paved paths between flower beds. One path leads to a pool. This is my pride. I have had our artisans decorate it with blue glazed tiles and mosaic pictures to show the history of our society, from the break with the other Amazons, to the founding of our city to almost the present day. The pictures represent events that happened in the reign of each queen. Three women are still working on one mosaic for my grandmother's reign. It depicts a great storm that caused much damage and wrecked several ships on our shores. The daughters and granddaughters of some of the rescued mariners, changed to women by the spell, are now part of our society. The workers bow to me as I approach to inspect it. Their faces show pleasure when I nod approval of their work and compliment them. I think of my mother and grandmother. I will reign until my first daughter succeeds me when she is eighteen. Even if I were to visit the Temple of Ishtar, lie with a man and get with child, I should reign for about another twenty years. I sigh. The pressure to visit the temple will come on me soon enough. My gardeners have done good work. The garden is beautiful, with spring flowers everywhere, even climbing up the marble pillars and round the statues of Greek gods and goddesses. I can relax there away from the matters of the state. I put aside the thought of a visit to the Temple of Ishtar and lie back in my chair, enjoying the coolness. My slave girls have been chattering to each other but now they too began to doze. I will not need their attention until later. Their talk gradually ceases and they fall asleep. They look beautiful in sleep, with long lashes over their closed eyes. The spell has been very effective. It is difficult to believe they were all once men. That done, as the shadows began to lengthen. it is time for my evening meal. I lie back on my divan in my private quarters, my slave girls round me and, while musicians play unobtrusively in the background, I allow them to serve me my meal. When my mother joins me later I excuse the slaves and we share some wine and talk about the matters of the realm. I am relaxed until she brings up the topic of my visiting the Temple of Ishtar. I shake my head. "Mother, the affairs of state need too much of my attention. I cannot take part yet." "As you wish, but you must be prepared!" After she departs, I am prepared for bed. My slaves help me wash and change into my night attire. They also put away any of my day clothes and check for any needing washing or mending. Alone now, I study myself in my silver mirror. I was born a woman. I see my red lips, my flawless complexion and the even lines of my face. My figure has high shapely breasts, a narrow waist, a flat belly and wide hips. Many have told me I am beautiful and I have no way of knowing if that is really true but when I compare myself to statues imported from Greece I am satisfied my beauty matches these. My figure is almost as it has been for the last five years, after I started a woman's monthly bleeding. My monthly bleeding annoys me. It reminds me that as a woman my body is made for bearing children. I am the absolute ruler, but like my mother, the women's council is hinting more and more strongly that I too should do my duty like other citizens and lie with a man at the temple. I am not ready for that, but I know the pressure will grow. The next day I have another unexpected duty. Two men have been brought before me. They were captured by one of the small parties of soldiers that patrol our eastern borders. This area is almost impassable with uncharted marshes and bogs. Curiously, they had not tried to run away from our patrol. Instead they had shouted for the patrol's attention and moved towards them. I ask the leader of the troop to describe the capture. "My queen, it was by the boggy part, at the river. We were not expecting to see anything, but we heard shouting. We saw one man. He was pulling another from the mud.in a swamp. He did not try to hide but waved to us. Before we got to him he managed to pull the other from the bog. When we seized them they did not try to struggle or escape. They have asked to be allowed to stay in our domain. Accordingly I brought them here for your judgment." I glare at the two young men. "You are intruding on our territory. This is a society of women. There is no place for men here. All know that. Why did you come here and risk your lives?" " Queen Myrine, " one speaks, "we know that. That is the reason we sought refuge in your kingdom. We wish to live in a society of women. We have heard that you have a magician here that can change men into women. We have been.... uncomfortable as men. This has caused danger for us in our homes. We have been threatened and had to take flight. Please, we beseech you to use that spell on us so that we will become women and can become part of your society. We cannot go back to our village." "How did you hear that?" I break in. I hope that the knowledge of a magic book will not inspire invasions of our territory. "It was a woman called Nephele who was banished from here. She lives with a man in the same village as ours. She told us about this country." He hesitates. "For some time we have been uncomfortable with our male bodies. We have wanted to be women. Please, if you will permit, we wish to enter your society." I recall that Nephele had once been an attendant, although a minor one, in my palace. She would have known that I changed men into women for my personal slaves. I wonder how much of the affairs of my kingdom are known. "And what have you heard about the magician?" "Only that one exists here. We have heard nothing else." "What can you offer our society? All women here work hard." " Please, I am a trained weaver," one pleads. "And I am a potter," adds the other. I study them and think about what I should do with them. I do not like the idea of changing every one who asks into a woman, and accepting them eventually into our society. Still, both seem sincere and I know that some men prefer to live as women. Both of the trades and skills they know could be useful. We have our own artisans, but I have admired some of the textiles from that kingdom. If they brought knowledge and experience it would benefit my domain. I look them over. They appear ordinary young men. Perhaps they are not as muscled as the enemy warriors I changed recently, but they are straight limbed and have good body shapes. "If the magician consented, you realize there would be no going back. You would remain as women the rest of your lives. Too, all free women here are required to visit the temple of Ishtar, to meet men, lie with them and become mothers. Are you prepared for that? It is not a choice." To my surprise I see both nod ready agreement. In fact they almost seem pleased about what I said. "Also, I warn you, men who become women will undergo a rigorous period of training, by me. They will be my slaves until I free them. I punish all sloppiness severely. Immediately after being taken into my service slaves are whipped to show my power over them. Will you be prepared to accept that?" Both turn much paler, but one, then the other, agrees. "Then I will think about it," I say, "but there is something I wish to know. You said you had the information from this Nephele who was banished from here. How is she finding her exile?" "She has married a man and lives with him in the village we left. She seems happy. I believe too that she is with child. I see her belly swelling." "Has she said when she wishes to return here?" "No, she has not. She knew we were going to seek refuge here and she gave us a message for you." "And what was that?" Something in his manner made me think that I did not want to hear the answer. "She said she is glad she was exiled and that she is with a man and happy. She wishes the same for you." I scowl in anger at the woman's impertinence. I can understand neither her actions nor her reasoning. I signal to the guards. "Put these men in chains," I command, "and lock them in a cell." I will agree to their pleas, but I think it will be better to let them worry for some hours. That way they might be more grateful to me and be more amenable to training. That night, with three guards and my slave Kimmere following me, I visit them in their cell with the scroll that has the transformation spell. I have their chains removed. They look at me and the guards apprehensively. "Strip off your clothes," I command. They look at me in distrust and I repeat my command. They hesitatingly do so and I check them over again. They are dirty and scratched but I am satisfied with them. I try not to look at their dangling male parts. Men's bodies are strangely designed. "I am going to be generous. I will read a spell to you. It will make you into beautiful women. But it will be forever and you will be my slaves. From my personal slaves I expect utter obedience, as I said. Just a minute ago I had to repeat a command. That will never happen again or there will be severe consequences! You agree with that? "We do!" "Then you should sit down." I unfurl the scroll and read the spell to them. They are, like the others, apprehensive, but they seem willing too. As with all the others, the spell begins working in a few minutes. When they are unconscious I leave them. There is no more I can do for at least a day. I am satisfied they will become excellent slaves. The next morning, after I have eaten, I have to get down to my duties again. Kore is already waiting to be admitted to my presence and gives a report on any pressing business. Then there are more legal and governance matters to be decided and decisions to be made. She catches me off guard when she reminds me of the arrangements for the next week's meeting of the women with men from the neighboring tribe at the Temple of Ishtar. All women who are willing will be expected to go to the temple on the edges of my kingdom. All will be wearing simple white robes and plain sandals. Nothing is permitted to show rank or wealth. But Kore seems hesitant and embarrassed this morning. There is something on her mind. I want truth and rankness in all my subjects and I command her to tell me. "Please, my queen, the senior women came to see me yesterday. They have been waiting for a decision from you or some action." Some suspicions begin to arise in my mind and I would prefer not to deal with these, but, having commanded her, I cannot back down. Also. As with other occasions I cannot have her delaying or hiding important matters. "Then tell me!" I speak sharply. She was still hesitant, and her voice stammers, but I have commanded her to speak. "It is about the succession, my queen. You have been ruler here for three years. You are powerful and wise, and the kingdom is run well, but the senior women begin to talk more openly that it is time you started thinking of your successor. It is desirable for our city that you have a daughter to rule after you. May that be a long time coming!" she hurriedly adds. I draw my breath in sharply. I know that having a daughter will be demanded of me eventually, but I am not ready. I automatically clutch my waist, still slender. I cannot imagine my body in union with a man and then my waist and belly distorted and swollen with carrying a child. Like all the women of my realm I have been instructed in what happens when a woman lies with a man at the Temple of Ishtar. I am a little curious about the procedure, but I am apprehensive too that I will have to allow a man to enter me. I know that it is necessary for our race to continue, but I style myself as the destroyer of men and this action does not seem appropriate. I glare at her. She averts her eyes, but she repeats the message. I am tempted to dismiss her for the day and call the council of our elders to account before me, but even my absolute powers are guided by custom passed down through the generations. There are laws and customs that it is my duty to uphold. "I will give them a decision, not now, but in one month from now, before the next lying- in ritual." "As you wish, Queen Myrine." S