The Moon Riders
Theresa Tomlinson
Language: English
Pages: 400
ISBN: 0060847360
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
Myrina has prepared for thirteen years to join the Moon Riders—learning the sacred dances, the art of using a weapon, and listening to her mother and grandmother's tales of their time spent with the Moon-maidens. Finally, the day arrives when she will leave her family and devote herself to the Old Woman, Atisha, and her tribe of fearless young warriors.
No sooner do Myrina and the Riders leave camp when a stowaway is discovered: Cassandra, the troubled young princess of Troy. Myrina is skeptical of Cassandra's "visions" of death and destruction in Troy; and yet when her predictions begin to come true, she and the other Moon Riders have no choice but to get involved. The events that unfold as the Trojan War wages on will affect Myrina, Cassandra, and the Moon Riders in unimaginable, unforgettable ways.
Acclaimed British author Theresa Tomlinson expertly brings to life the legend of the Amazons and sets it against a backdrop of one of the most mythic, imagination-inspiring battles in all of history.
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Atisha nodded. “If you long for your family and friends now you know what to do.” “But,” Myrina said, “will I be able to do such a thing myself, without you to guide me?” Atisha laughed. “You did well, Snaky Girl; some find it much more difficult than that. The more you practice, the stronger your magic will grow.” “I didn’t see Tomi,” she realized. “You will see whomever you want to see,” Atisha told her. “There will be plenty of time for keeping an eye on your sweetheart.” Myrina jumped.
smiled at Myrina’s enthusiasm but she shook her head. “I’m not suggesting that we make war on Agamemnon.” Myrina subsided, discouraged. “Don’t look so disappointed, young Snaky. You are thinking well. A small determined task force may have a much better chance of success.” She wagged a gnarled finger at the girls. “The best riders, the best archers; Centaurea, who knows the land to the south of Thrace; Penthesilea, whose courage cannot be beaten. A small group, who may pass secretly through the
cooking fires, working together with King Daris’s men, Myrina tethered Isatis and marched ahead up the steep hillside by herself, determined to have a look at what lay ahead. I should have listened to Atisha, she argued with herself. Small amounts would have been best—but then, small amounts would not feed so very many starving people. She reached the summit of the hill and stood there, looking down. Though a wagon train might be spotted from that distance, one young woman could not be seen.
Troy.” A wild answering cheer went up from all the many gathered bands of allies. Myrina’s gang moved in behind Penthesilea. “For Maa and Myrina!” they yelled. Myrina was touched, but she and Cassandra had to step back quickly as they all surged forward, Aeneas at the head of the Dardanians, Peiroos leading the Thracian tribes and Paris at the head of the remaining Trojans. They rode out across the plain toward the Tomb of Dancing Myrina, where the armies would face each other. “Come to the
sword from her own belt and swung it with force, but it clashed heavily and swerved uselessly aside. The fight was bitter and determined and it went on and on, each dealing sword blow after sword blow that stunned and sliced, until blood seeped out from beneath the beaten horse-skin armor that Penthesilea wore. Achilles’ armor kept him safe, but the blows that he received must have battered and bruised. The sun moved across the sky and still Penthesilea swung her sword at Achilles. Once the
