Jana, Episode 10

They were all tense. Nina was sent away to the barracks, confused and weeping; the princess was Nina’s life. Sophia would stay behind at the palace.
With a blonde wig of a braid hanging behind her, and in the blue tunic Jana customarily wore on duty, a little stain was all the Queen needed. On horseback, the Queen looked remarkably like Jana.
“Be safe,” the Queen had said, looking Jana in the eye a long time. Then she had tenderly kissed her. “Look after my child!” she had said. Ianthe was in tears, but she embraced her mother bravely, and kissed her.
With a quiver full of arrows, and several knives on her person, the Queen had mounted, and with a single guard at her side, had ridden off south, along the road to the Horse Plains.

“We have a week,” Jana said to the girls.
“I wish I could fight with you!” Sophia said, fiercely.
“We need someone here who knows the plan!” said Ianthe. “If things go wrong, you and Andromache must … improvise!” Fear and determination alternated in Sophia’s eyes.
Jana’s disguise was more difficult. The Queen was very fair and rosy-cheeked. With a dark wig, and her cheeks rouged a little, and her eyes outlined in kohl, she looked startlingly like the Queen from a moderate distance.
“The Queen would ride today,” said Ianthe, seriously. “You should ride!”

The Royal Guard was in on the plan. Jana rode out, dressed as the Queen, surrounded by ten guardsmen. By dint of careful observation, Jana could smile and wave very much like the Queen.
“It was beautiful!” was Andromache’s verdict. “Truly, the Queen did ride today!”
The second day, Ianthe and Sophia hid themselves near the pool, from where they could see ‘The Queen’ return by the shore road.
“There she is!” exclaimed Sophie, whose sharp eyes had seen her first. And sure enough, far away they could barely see the blue livery of the guards. There were a few people on the road, and Ianthe watched amazed as the Queen graciously waved at her subjects, and called a soft greeting.

Later, in bed, Ianthe lay on Jana, looking into her eyes, in her disconcerting way.
“You were my mother!” she exclaimed, softly. “How did you do it?”
“If it had to be done, so could you do it, too!”
But Ianthe shook her head in wonder.
“If you had not flirted with Stefan, we would still be living in terror!”
Jana was unhappy. Though she had indeed acted ill-advisedly on that distant occasion, she felt that Ianthe deserved to have a more accurate account of what had happened.
“It was not flirting, love; I should tell you the story … you are old enough now to understand.”
“Yes, please tell me!”

A while later, Ianthe watched Jana thoughtfully.
“It is so strange,” she said, “to think of him as a male animal … able to penetrate a woman, and … put his seed into her …”
“Or to imagine your mother being bred by your father, or any man!”
Ianthe looked at Jana, troubled. “I take your point,” she said.
“And your mother; can she imagine us lying here, naked, like animals?”
Ianthe rested her cheek on Jana’s breast, as she loved to do.
When Jana had the leisure to think of it, she took great pleasure that, under Ianthe’s adoring hands, Jana’s breasts were beginning to become fuller, more womanly, heavier.
It was usually Ianthe who was the aggressor in bed, who mounted Jana and rode her, until she collapsed, satiated. Their roles had been reversed only a few times, each time Jana leaving Ianthe breathless and shaken. But as they learned each other’s secrets, their love grew. And each prayed to her own gods, that nothing might ever come between them.
There was a soft knock on the door. Ianthe flew to where her discarded shift lay, and pulled it on, as Jana did the same.
“Who is it?”
“It is I, Sophia!”
Jana opened the door. The girl stood in her night clothes, trying to look small.
“What’s the matter, sweet?”
“I feel lonely, and afraid!”
The girl had suffered for two nights, the others not realizing that with the Queen and Nina gone, Sophia was alone at night. From then on, the girls shared Ianthe’s wide bed, but making love was out of the question.

Thanks to all her riding over the recent weeks, the ride to the border was effortless for the Queen. “Just relax,” she had told the guardsman who accompanied her, “nothing’s going to happen to us.” And nothing did.
The Horse People, seeing the one who they took to be their fellow-countrywoman, the legendary Jana, greeted her with grins and cheers. Then their smiles faded, as they realized that it was only a crude disguise.
“It is I, Queen Ione,” she said, breathless. “I must beg a favor from your King!”
It took mere seconds to convinced them of her identity, and in a few seconds more, they were off, racing to the City of the Horse People, with fresh horses for the Queen and her guard.

“A man wants to see the Queen, my Lady!” Sophie blurted out to Jana and Ianthe, who were in the Kitchen.
“Who is it?”
“Master Menelaus, I think, the healer, my Lady!”
“Curses! We can’t say she’s sick!”
“You should go. Tell him that the Queen has heard of the death of a close friend, and is grieving. Take a message!”
Ianthe’s whole bearing changed. In seconds she was the proud, imperious, suspicious royal princess. She sedately walked out to the hall, and paused, inquiringly, her face grave.
“Princess! I have news for the Queen!”
“Is it good news, Master Menelaus?”
“N-no, I’m afraid not, my dear!” Ianthe froze him with a look. “It’s the Duke. He rejects everything!”
Ianthe sagged.
“The Queen … has heard of the death of a childhood friend. May I tell her the news tomorrow? She could send for you?”
“Just tell her, Princess! Send for me if you must! All she can do is kill me!”
Ianthe shook her head. She softly closed the door and stepped into the Hall. There were a few hangers-on; all to the good.
“The Queen … she tires of this plotting and sniping game. What I tell you is secret, you understand?”
“Certainly,” assured Menelaus.
“She and I are riding out, to face the Duke. We are not cowards, Menelaus. For weeks we drilled; knives, the bow, the staff! My mother and I will face them alone! If he is a man, let him come! He can have this throne, but he must kill my mother and me first! Let him learn what it is to fight Ione!”
Menelaus was aghast.
“Isn’t it simpler to attack the Duke, highness? Why sacrifice yourself?”
“No! Then we will be in the wrong! His treachery is yet not proven! It has to be this way!”
“Oh my child! Your beloved mother has been the brightest star this palace has seen; the most just, the most merciful, the most benevolent, after your great father! I cannot bear it; what sad news!” Ianthe hid her surprise at this outpouring of sincere love and admiration for her mother. It was clear that she hardly knew Menelaus. “Let me only speak to her!”
“Tomorrow, Menelaus … but I am determined to make her do this. The Duke watches our every move. He will come, and then it is in the open. I welcome it!”
The words were not all an act. Ianthe was bitter, and thoughts of death were not strangers to her. In her opinion, it was better to die than to live in fear. She could not blame the guards; she would either end this threat, or die trying.
Nodding gravely to the others in the hall, Ianthe softly closed the door, and rejoined her companions.

“Oh, Princess!” whispered Sophia, “Her Majesty -- if she could only have heard those words!” She was crying, tears of admiration pouring down her cheeks.
“I meant every one,” Ianthe gritted out.
“What if he comes alone?” asked Jana, who had heard it all.
“Then I will face him! It would not be fair if you fought him. I would gladly face him. I have my knives!”

The next day, Master Menelaus showed up, wringing his hands, tears in his eyes, and behind him, to Ianthe’s astonishment, stood a vast host of citizens, spreading all the way to the walls. Guards stood along the walls, outside and in the palace, trying not to look alarmed.
Ianthe only paused an instant. Herding Menelaus before her, she climbed onto the lowest steps of the dais of the throne.
“Fellow-citizens,” she said, “the Queen is in seclusion, preparing to meet an enemy, a personal enemy, and an enemy of the people. We have been attacked with poison, and cowardly arrows. If we succeed, all will be well. If we fail, it becomes your responsibility to destroy the traitor! We know we carry your good will with us. Go to your homes with good cheer! Truth will win, and greed will reap its bitter reward! The gods bless you all!”

“We can’t keep this up; we must go!”
“No! From the border to the City of the Horse People takes four days, and four days back: eight days! It’s only been five days since the Queen left! We must wait another three!”