The two women at the gate were tall and stood at attention, dressed in bronze hoplite armor, including a helmet, breastplate, and greaves. They carried bronze shields that reached from their chins to their knees and spears in their right hands. They were stoic and strong.
While they stood still before the wooden gate, he could tell by how they stiffened that they did not expect to see him.
“Lord Hades,” the one on the left said. “To what do we owe the pleasure?”
“You don’t have to lie,” he said. “I need to speak with Hippolyta.”
The Amazon on the right used her spear to knock on the gate thrice, and the doors opened to reveal the interior of the Amazons’ oasis, which was just as lush, packed with evergreen oaks, cypress, and flowering myrtle and oleander. Dirt paths wound through identical homes that were composed of sun-dried mud bricks and covered in a flowering vine that smelled strongly of honey.
On the other side of the gate, another Amazon waited. She was dressed the same as the two guards and said nothing to him, only turned and led him down the winding road. Hades followed between the tightly built homes. The floral smell was stronger here, and Hades noticed plump bumblebees moving from flower to flower, zipping between him and the Amazon he followed.
The path led to a round courtyard that was several feet below ground level and accessible by a set of stairs that extended around the entire perimeter. Despite the center being covered in sun-dried brick, the Amazons had managed to make the space look just as lively as the surrounding landscape, filling great stone pots with flowers and greens. Opposite this gathering place were more of the same homes, and from over the tops of their roofs, the mountainous terrain of the rest of Terme was visible, where clouds hung low to meet their peaks.
Despite the fact that the Amazons had a queen, there were no palaces here, and Hippolyta did not even sit on a throne. She was queen because of her knowledge and expertise in battle.
Nothing else mattered.
The Amazons not on guard wore white peploses and cloaks. Some wore gold or leather belts while others chose ribbons, and their hair was braided into intricate styles that kept it off their necks and out of their faces—a completely practical choice, both due to the heat and because of its interference in battle.
Hades followed the guard down the steps into the lower courtyard. There was a large fountain in one corner where the women could draw drinking water and a firepit where they cooked community food, but the thing that caught Hades’s attention was a metal pole protruding from the ground and the woman tied to it.
Hades nodded toward her.
“What did she do?”
The Amazon did not look in her direction but answered, “Slept with a man outside the mating ritual.”
Hades said nothing. The Amazons procreated once a year with a tribe called the Gargareans, keeping only the female children born from the couplings—males were returned. It wasn’t that the Amazons hated men; they found them unnecessary for anything outside of sustaining their society, so to seek one out beyond necessity was considered shameful.
And dishonor among the Amazons was a death sentence.
Hades could not help looking at the woman who was staring down at her feet, and while she appeared stoic and unbothered by her punishment, he could see her pain in the details of her body—the way her toes curled into her sandaled feet, the tremor that shook her legs, the hard fists she made behind her back, the set of her mouth that seemed to make her jaw far more prominent. The metal at her back had to be scorching, and if he had to guess, her skin was covered in blisters.
They continued across the courtyard, though as Hades looked ahead once more, he found Hippolyta approaching. There was something enchanting about her face. Perhaps it had something to do with her eyes, which were pastel green and heavy-lidded. She looked perpetually bored but stern. Her blond hair was braided away from her face and she wore white. Cinched around her waist was her leather girdle. It was a plain piece of ornamentation that laced closed at the front, though as far as relics went, it was probably best it was so unremarkable. No one expected mediocrity from the gods. They’d assume it had no power save its utility.
“Lord Hades,” she said. “You are here to see me?”
“I am,” he said. “I’ve come to ask for your belt.”
He saw no need to be anything other than direct. He did not have time, and neither did Hippolyta.
There was a pause. “I appreciate that you do not dally, though your request seems out of character.”
“It is.”
He said nothing more, not wishing to offer an explanation, and Hippolyta did not ask for one, likely because she did not care. The Amazon queen studied him for a moment, then said, “I am not opposed, though it would need to be a fair exchange.”
“I have a trade in mind,” he said. “Though it is not conventional.”
He was not certain Hera would like it, though she had not said when he had to obtain Hippolyta’s belt, and her final message had given him more room for interpretation than she had probably intended—do what you must to trade.
“Go on,” she said.
“I am in need of an aegis,” he said, indicating behind him with a nod. “And one of your own is in need of honor.”
“Zofie is young,” Hippolyta said and, like the other Amazon, did not spare her a glance. “She has a wandering eye that causes her to lose sight of what is truly important.”
She was speaking of discipline.
“Perhaps a charge will give her focus,” Hades said. “If she brings honor, then I will return her to you in exchange for the belt. If she does not—”
“You will kill her,” Hippolyta said.
Hades was not surprised by the queen’s quick command. It was likely their plan for her to begin with, so he nodded.
Not one to delay, Hippolyta nodded.
“We have an agreement, Lord Hades,” she said and glanced at the Amazon who stood a few paces behind Hades. “Bring her.”
The guard left to retrieve Zofie, and with her departure, Hippolyta turned her attention to Hades.
“There is unrest out there,” she said. “I feel it in my blood.”
That premonition was something she had inherited from Ares. It was a type of magic that stirred their lust for battle, and it only confirmed what Helios had said about war.
“You are not wrong,” Hades replied, grimacing.
Hippolyta inclined her head. “You do not like war despite its benefit to your kingdom.”
“There is no benefit for traumatized souls,” Hades said, and as much as the Underworld could offer healing in peace, receiving souls who had died in battle was not an easy thing to witness.