The Threat

The front line of Amazigh horsemen stopped a short distance from the bottom of the hill. The horses stomped and shook the bells that hung from their fancy reins. From his place on the hill, the Lieutenant estimated the force to be at least one hundred men, all outfitted in full battle dress with shields, swords, and lances on display.

Everyone on the south side of the hill saw the riders coming. Word spread quickly. Amaal set down her stylus and watched the men of Qart-hadasht pick up their hammers, axes, swords, and knives. As if drawn by an unseen force, they walked to the bottom of the hill and formed a loose defensive line. The women of the hill left their babies in the care of the older children, tucked their gowns into their sashes, grabbed their kitchen knives, and moved down the hill to fill in the gaps. Amaal intended to stay behind, but the Oarswoman handed her a knife, so she scrambled to secure her writing tools and joined the others at the bottom of the hill. The worn wooden handle of the knife felt rough against her hand as she gripped it tightly and wondered how to defend herself against a warrior on horseback. The ship builders rushed over from the shipyard and joined the line. Hannu stood far from her, but she felt his presence, and it gave her courage.

The Amazigh horsemen maintained their position, seemingly unimpressed by what they saw, but that was before the temple maidens appeared at the top of the hill. Each carried a billowing pan of incense, and, as they proceeded down the long flight of steps, the smoke spread out and shrouded the hillside in a thick, white haze. The maidens took their places at even intervals up and down the stairs. Then, from behind the curtain of smoke, the Priestess appeared at the top of the hill. By some magic of costuming, she looked like a giantess, three times her normal height, and stood draped in a white gown with her arms stretched out to the sides. A huge, silver halo surrounded her head. She began a ululation, and the temple maidens and all of the women of Qart-hadasht lent their powerful voices to the piercing wail. The men clapped their metal blades in a deafening clang that sounded like giants marching into battle. Whatever unnamed deity may have lain dormant inside the hill, this was its awakening. The Amazigh horses tried to back away, but their riders insisted they stay put. Then, unexpectedly, the Amazigh men and women who had been living and working among Elishat’s people appeared. Unarmed, they joined the defense of the hill. It was only then that the army of Iarbas understood the magnitude of the changes that the Queen had brought to their shores.

            An agent of Iarbas rode toward the hill. His horse reared and tried to turn away, but the rider urged it on and dismounted in front of the Lieutenant. He handed him a neatly wrapped white bundle and pointed firmly to the top of the hill. He said nothing more but returned to his horse, mounted, and gave a signal to the warriors who spun around and retreated in a cloud of dust.

The Lieutenant faced the hillside. He raised his hand and the defenders fell silent. They cleared a path, and he proceeded up the long steps with the bundle tucked under his arm while the people of the hill, united in a powerful new way, returned to work without uttering a word.

Iarbas received the troubling report: Elishat’s people did not retreat; they didn’t scatter in fear. They stood together in one voice and faced his army. Moreover, there were Amazigh people standing among them. Whatever decision Iarbas was going to make, Qart-hadasht was prepared to defend their hill.

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