CHAPTER VI
'ARISTOMACHE & EUPRAXIA'
A gunshot! And not too far away either. Clytemnestra and I both instantly turn to face the direction of the sound, even as the echo rolls around the landscape. The standing stones of the four concentric stone circles block all vision.
I drop my pack and unsling my rifle working the leaver to chamber a cartridge. Clytemnestra is loading hers at the same time. Glancing at one another we creep toward the perimeter of the stone circle. I wince every time Clytemnestra's hooves clip-clop against the hard marble floor.
It feels like an age before we reach the edge of the outermost ring of stones and can peer fearfully into the night. The sun has been down for a good hour now and we have only the bright starlight to see by. Absently I wonder why the nights of this world are so less dark than they should be.
"There," Clytemnestra hisses, pointing.
Yes, I can see now, a light-coloured shape moving in the distance. Maybe a person? I'm glad of my dark red clothing now. Had I been wearing white I'd show up like her. I lie prone and aim down the barrel of my rifle, fixing my aim on the centre of mass.
Seconds tick by. Whoever fired that gun, they are coming this way, I'm certain of it. I have to blink and when I do my vision swims for a moment. My eyes focus again and I know what I see, I'm certain. I glance up at Clytemnestra.
"It's a centaur," I whisper, as loud as I dare.
"Not a centaur, two," she whispers back.
I raise my head a little. She's right! I had been so intent on my aim at the white centaur that I'd completely missed the dark coloured smudge of the other. I'm sure they've not seen us yet. Clytemnestra's dark coat and deep brown skin and my dark red clothes are helping us hide in the shadows of the stones, where these two centaurs are more obvious even in the starlight.
"Far enough, friends!" Clytemnestra's voice booms out and I've never been so grateful that I had good trigger discipline drilled into me at a young age. If my finger had been on the trigger I could easily have fired in surprise.
Both centaurs stop dead, looking about. I glance up at Clytemnestra as she strides into the open, rifle levelled. I quickly take aim again, covering her.
"What were you shooting at?"
The white centaur speaks, clear and clam, "Game only! Put up your gun and call us friend again, friend!"
They are about a hundred yards off, I don't see any weapons in their hands, but unless I miss my guess both have rifles scabbarded at their waists. Clytemnestra lowers her gun, and breaks it, but does not unload it or put it away. I watch carefully as she walks closer to them, and they to her. She puts her arm on the shoulder of each in turn, just as she once did to me, and they both return the gesture as I could not.
I think they talk briefly, but I cannot hear. Now Clytemnestra calls to me, she sounds calm, even happy.
I walk closer. My gun is still in my hands, but not pointed at anything. I'm ready, though, ready to bring it to my shoulder at a moment's notice. The three centaurs stand easy, smiling cheerfully. For the first time in a long time I realise just how big Clytemnestra is. I've always known it of course, but familiarity has a way of dulling one's perceptions until suddenly I am standing amongst three people who could each snap me like a twig.
I look up at their faces, feeling very small and alien. Alien, different, not normal. I wonder if this is how Clytemnestra feels amongst humans? I doubt it, she's too strong willed to let such things bother her. I feel it, though.
Clytemnestra calls me her companion, she introduces me to these other centaurs, Aristomache and her wife Eupraxia, as though they are old friends. I shouldn't be surprised, isn't that how she acted to me when first we met?
Aristomache is tall, even for a centaur, or so I think. She's more than nine feet I'm sure. Tall, broad shouldered, muscular and full breasted with a strong, Junoesque face given to easy confidence. She has long chestnut red hair and coat and tanned, coppery skin with intricate knotted tattoos that look Celtic to me. Her round breasts are all but bursting forth from a bustier of similar design, but distinct style to Clytemnestra's halter top.
Eupraxia is less tall, and more finely built, slim and lithe with almost no bust at all. In fact, unlike Clytemnestra and Aristomache she clearly feels no need to wear anything to restrain her tiny breasts. No wonder she stood out in the dark so. Her hair and coat are pure white to match her pale skin. A mass of excited white hair boils forth beneath each arm.
Both of them are belted with leather scabbards holding long rifles similar to Clytemnestra's, and Eupraxia has a dead deer thrown over her withers explaining the shot we heard.
"Nice to meet you?" I manage, presently.
I am a little stunned, to say the least. Whatever part of my brain it is that's responsible for sorting the world into the categories of normal and amazing had apparently managed to file Clytemnestra, somehow, as normal without remotely preparing me for the possibility of meeting other centaurs.
Standing here, gazing up at them, somehow I'm no better prepared to deal with the sight than I was when I first saw Clytemnestra.
"A meeting is a blessing," Aristomache smiles, laying her hand on my shoulder like a sack of lead shot.
"You've no need for weapons with us, little one," Eupraxia adds, nodding at my rifle.
I glance at Clytemnestra and she nods. The two newcomers invite us to join them for dinner and, my misgivings rapidly evaporating under a genuine sense of trust about them, I'm glad to accept, as is Clytemnestra. By the time I've dashed back to the centre of the stone circle to retrieve by pack and got back, a not inconsiderable distance, there is a merry little fire burning and all three centaurs are settled around it in a circle.
As is my custom I sit with Clytemnestra, leaning against her warm, hard body.
"We're travelling the world," she says, "Just for the sake of doing it, of seeing new things and meeting new people.
Eupraxia's hands clasp together, "How romantic."
"What about you?" I ask, both for curiosity and for something to say, "We're a long way from anywhere and we haven't seen anyone else out here."
"We're going to cross the mountains," Aristomache points through the stone circle toward where the pass is, "We carry messages for the Grand Master of Zoa."
"Zoa?"
"The land beyond the mountains. That is your destination, isn't it?"
"Well, yes... We just didn't know what it was called. What's it like?"
It's taken me a while to lift my eyes from Eupraxia's almost-flat chest. There's something fascinating about tiny little breasts, something deeply sexy. When I do manage to lift my eyes from Eupraxia's inviting lack of bust I meet her eyes! Orange. Not brown, like Clytemnestra and Aristomache, but pure tangerine. The colour is startling and I'm lost in them for a moment.
"Few know," Eupraxia says, startling me, "Aristomache's mother was a great favourite in the court of Zoa in her youth, but few others have been there. It is a place of fabulous wealth and huge power, or so she said. They know much magic and science there, but guard it jealously."
That certainly excites my interest. It sounds like a fascinating place, depending on how jealously they do in fact guard their knowledge.
Aristomache takes up the thread, "My mother said that she saw things there the like of which exists nowhere else. It was her final wish in life that I see what she had seen, and that I carry her letter to the Grand Master who rules that land."
"I should very much like to see it too," Clytemnestra says, excitedly.
"Zoa is called the 'city on the bridge'. That is just what it is. My mother described it often. There is a lake, long and wide, and over it, a bridge. The bridge is black stone and reaches from one shore to the other, and so wide and long that there is a city on its back. There are homes and palaces and places of business and of pleasure, all built upon the bridge. If you cross the mountains, you will see a sight such as few have."
Clytemnestra is growing more excited as Aristomache speaks, "You're right, we do mean to cross the mountains, and I for one should love to have such pleasant company for the trip, if you'll consent."
"Provided," I must interject, "You don't mind my slowing you down."
"Gladly," Aristomache beams, "If the road beyond the pass is as difficult as we have been told, you may outpace any of us, in fact."
Oh joy. I wonder how bad this road might be if she thinks I'll make better progress than three centaurs. My train of thought is disturbed by Eupraxia rising to her hooves.
By pure reflex I ask, "Where are you going?"
"I need a pee," she replies carelessly.
Clytemnestra's excited voice pipes up, "Ooh! Can I watch?"
"What?" both the other centaurs look at her.
"I like watching attractive women peeing," she replies matter-of-factly, then adding, for some damned reason,"It's a thing I have."
I can't say I'm surprised. In fact, I've been waiting for Clytemnestra to try and put her, for want of a better word, moves on them. Even I wouldn't have predicted it'd be like this, though.
Eupraxia looks at her for a long moment and then shrugs slightly, "Why not?"
