4 comments/ 15885 views/ 1 favorites Timeless Atlantis Ch. 01 By: amandaslo It will probably be remembered as the most significant period in British history. Great Inventors gave us amazing devices like Babbage's numerator, Engineers like Isambard Kingdom Brunel constructed viaducts and bridges on a scale that would have made the Pharaohs jealous and literary geniuses like Jayne Eyre and Jules Verne stole our hearts and took us to places beyond our imagination. Britannia ruled the waves and the sun never set on the British Empire. It was a golden era and for those of us in the upper classes one of boundless optimism. There was nothing that could not be achieved and even though women were not normally anything other than wives and daughters we had Queen Victoria. She was a shining example to women everywhere of how commanding we could be and everyone practically worshipped her. I was not only lucky to be born to wealth but to a father that liked my involvement in his life's work. We traveled around the globe, unearthing artifacts and exploring tombs even when I was little more than a child. Before I was born Mother would accompany him and assisted with his lectures at the Royal Society. After I arrived Father took up a fellowship at Oxford for almost ten years before the lure of parts unknown was irresistible. Mother gave me a journal to record our adventures and I faithfully put pen to paper to describe the marvels we encountered. A turning point in my life came when we were cataloguing the artifacts of the temple of Angkor Wat in the deepest jungles of Indo China. Poor Mother succumbed to a strain of malaria, for which our supply of quinine could do nothing. Both Father and I threw ourselves into our work after that. Had it not been for the diversions offered by our work then we might have gone insane. I grew closer to Father and became something of a Tom Boy, dressing in jodhpurs, sun helmet and carrying a pistol. Not quite the formal attire expected of the daughter of the Earl of Tredegar. I did return to more fitting dress whenever we were in England and the fashion of a plunging neckline and bustle saw many a young suitor become tiresome to me. Whilst in London we attended dinners and parties of the well to do but my mind was on other things. I ached for a new adventure and tired of roast pheasant and gossip. One such occasion was a typical boring evening at the Lord Mayor's residence in Kensington. The only difference to the normal routine of socializing was that Father had received the Knight's Order of the Bath from her majesty that morning. I was proud of Father when he was knighted. He told me that I had done just as much work as he had and so should have been kneeling beside him. I minded a little I will admit but it was enough that he got what he deserved. I accepted that there was no avenue for recognizing the achievements of women, even though I found it displeasing. The chatter, as we mingled, glasses of sherry in hand, was the usual form. The women spoke of fashion, the young men of horses (often describing stallions in such great detail that I fancy they were trying to suggest themselves) and the older men of cigars and port. I did, however, overhear a conversation between two ageing peers. They had been lifelong friends and found the area of science that Father and I engaged in most intriguing and longed to continue their edification by funding some expeditions. I kept my tongue that evening for I knew they were not the type of gentlemen to pay court to the thoughts of a woman. Instead I spoke to Father and pleaded with him to at least entreat divulgence of what exactly they had planned. It was not as if their money was paramount to the success of any expedition as Father had more than enough wealth to spare for our adventures. What mattered was that their patronage would bring accolades and better still, if they had a good idea, one that no one had ever thought of then it could make my Father a legend and no greater reward for a life's work could I imagine. Father was not as impressed as I when he learnt of their idea. They disagreed about the existence of certain myths and legends and wanted us to investigate three of them. It was by way of a wager between the two gentlemen, since they disagreed on all three, that whoever was right the most times would win. Father thought the notion ludicrous and a frivolous waste of his time. I, on the other hand, found the opportunity too good to pass up as if even one myth was proven by Father then it would be the making of him. He would become a household name for centuries to come. I set out to persuade him and eventually a daughter's well-practiced petulance and tears won the day. Our first expedition was a fruitless one. We endured the hardships of the Congo in search of the White Queen and found little more than primitive tribes. There was not even any temples or ancient artifacts to prove the existence of a defunct civilization. Father was not disappointed as he had expected nothing from our investigation but we would both have liked to have at least something new to walk away with. Our second was more fruitful, though ultimately a failure, and was full of adventure. The fabled King Solomon's mines were our quarries and for that we traveled extensively around the Middle East and North Africa. At one point we were attacked by Berber tribesmen and all looked lost. Father shot away with his Martini Henry rifle and I with my trusted side arm but our bearers fell around us as our cause looked ever increasingly doomed. Then over the hill came a surge of scarlet jackets sat astride magnificent steeds. Their steel glinted in the mid afternoon sun and nothing more glorious than the Queen's Own Heavy Cavalry coming to one's rescue could be imagined. The tribesmen's rifles found no targets, the crack of each round impotently sounding out as the thunder of hooves drew closer. Most fled rather than engage hand to hand, but a few brave souls did and paid dearly for their valor. The sound of steel against steel competed with the cries of mortally wounded men as a short battle ensued. As the wounded Arabs limped away to lick their wounds a dashing young lieutenant cantered up and stopped before us. I must have looked a frightful mess. My sun helmet lay on the floor and my hair was an unflattering tangled mess. Grease and powder stained my face and my blouse was torn. I was most annoyed that smoke had caused my eyes to well up and so it looked as though I had been crying. "Sir, Miss. My compliments. Lieutenant Richard Hallworth at your service. If you would do me the honor of accepting dinner at our encampment I would dearly love to ask what you are doing in the middle of our little war but for the meantime I think it best you accept our protection and leave before our friends return." I had brought no dress on the expedition and so the sight of a female wearing riding jodhpurs brought admiring glances from the younger officers and disapproving ones from the older ones. It was however a pleasant evening and for once I was in polite company that allowed for interesting conversation. Richard was soon to be Captain Hallworth as soon as the Colonel arrived from England with his gazette. He had proven himself in similar clashes with the Berber and his peers were not slow in producing tales of daring do that no doubt were for my benefit. I had no need for verbal embroidery to make me fall for him though. Over the coming weeks he proved himself to accept me as an equal though he did have the honesty to tell me he preferred to dine with women who were properly attired. He persuaded his Major that he should provide escort for our expedition and whilst we found nothing of note I enjoyed his company. Afterwards he invited us to Cairo for a ball, which would, in part be a celebration of his new rank. He pleaded with me to buy a dress and I gave in without argument. The ball was a glittering affair and a more magical night a woman could ever hope to be at. The uniforms of the officers outshone the best efforts of even the most fashionable ladies and reminded me somewhat of peacocks and their hens. We danced and danced the night away and at one point he took Father aside. He had done the proper thing and asked for my hand but Father laughed and told him to ask me himself. I don't think I ever felt more like swooning before. He took me out onto the verandah and after kissing my hand, got on one knee. With his sabre at his side, his scarlet dress uniform and silver epaulettes he asked, "Miss Anne, would you do this poor fool the honor of becoming his wife?" I agreed on the spot and with cheeks flushed I almost leapt into his arms. We almost skipped back into the dance hall intent on commanding the band to cease playing so that the Colonel could announce our engagement. It was not to be. The band had stopped playing and indeed the Colonel rose to the podium to make an announcement but it was not to be a happy one. "Ladies and gentlemen. I have here the gravest of news. After a valiant defence Khartoum has fallen. It says here that the last man to die was General Gordon. After running out of ammunition he fought his last foes with bayonet until overwhelmed. I have orders here that all officers and men are to return to barracks tonight. By thunder we shall have our revenge!" The poor Colonel was upset though stoic at the news. His old school friend General Gordon had been pleading for the relief of Khartoum for months but it had fallen on deaf ears in London. The longer he held out seemed to back up the claim of his detractors that he was exaggerating. The Colonel had supported his request for troops but had been ordered to remain in Egypt. I saw him wipe away a tear from the corner of his eye as he described the manner of his friend's death. Not an emotional man normally it was the one physical manifestation he allowed himself. Richard and I parted that night. He had a Queen to serve before he and I could marry and Father and I would spend the time investigating the next wild goose chase. This time we sailed to Bermuda in search of the Amazons. Richard would expect me to give up my travels upon getting married. I knew that when I accepted his proposal. A life of adventure is a difficult thing to give up but sometimes it is necessary, especially if the reason is love. I did not find the notion of bearing children a pleasant one, but again I knew the duty of a wife. What would be hardest would be ending the working relationship with Father. He said that he didn't mind and would cease his own travels if it meant he could be close to his grandchildren. So we both decided that our quest for the Amazons would be our last expedition. I was pleased with the idea of searching out the female warriors as there was more than simple passing fancies to back up the myth. There had been reports from ships of a large island somewhere near Bermuda and many scientists and historians believed that to be the location of the fabled lost Atlantis. Although many sailors exaggerate or simply lie a recent report came from a ship belonging to the Royal Ordnance Survey and so lent the islands existence some credibility. Homer wrote about Atlantis and with other descriptions by other writers of his time the approximate location seemed correct. We had chased a great deal of false leads with other legends before and it is the nature of archaeology that a lot of time is wasted. As we investigated our raw data though there did appear something to our last task. Many authors wrote about Atlantis and descriptions of life there varied considerably. This was probably due to the fact that very few had ever been there and so relied on accounts, whispered rumors and plain falsehoods. What we had to do was compare similar accounts and try to find consistencies. We found quite a few. What we ended up assuming was derived in the manner I described. Atlantis was an island kingdom (not an apt word) at one time. It was a matriarchal society where, unlike the rest of the known world, women were the dominant sex. They seldom ventured from their island as pirates and even foreign powers saw a ship full of women as a rich target for slavery. However other trading nations did go to Atlantis with goods. Lord Caernarvon's feted expeditions to Egyptian tombs found evidence of tobacco and coca leaves, which was odd considering that until 1492 America, the only place where those could be found, was unknown to the rest of the world. It was not such a wild supposition that Atlantis traded with the Inca and Aztec nations to the west and the Phoenicians, Greeks and Carthaginians to the East. For some reason Atlantis then disappeared off the map. Various explanations for this have been expounded, such as the island sinking, and only served to make Atlantis into a more unbelievable myth than ever before. More believable explanations included disease wiping them out or an invasion where all the women were carried off and enslaved. Some natives of South America can be blonde, which is a sign they have European blood and would be conducive to the latter story. We believed that they were European because if they had an appearance different to that then the stories would have made a point of it. Virtually all the stories talked of fair skinned women, and more often than not, blonde. We commissioned the services of a Merchant Navy sloop and sailed into the Atlantic bound for Bermuda. Sailing is not my passion but I did not experience mal de mer luckily. What I did find uncomfortable was being in such cramped conditions with a large number of men with over active sexual imaginations. I kept my less than ladylike attire of jodhpurs, riding boots, blouse and sun helmet, thinking that it would make me less alluring. I don't think it would have mattered what I was wearing as they even commented that it was easier to imagine my behind naked wearing trousers. I was glad to reach the port of Bermuda and get away from them. We were at the port to gather more provisions and to take on a squad of Royal Marines. We would be going into the interior of the island, if we found it, and a few extra rifles might come in handy. Father and I met the Governor, who appeared to have been there for far too long. I had seen similar men before. The distance between their location and England told on them as time went by. He had gained weight and drank quinine in the form of tonic water profusely, mixed in with far too much gin to afford him and entirely sober disposition. He scoffed at our expedition and explained away the reports of an island as the tall tales of sailors seeking a free pint of rum from someone who liked a good story, or the services of a naïve wench. The last comment was delivered with a sly smile in my direction. He did nothing to deter us though. If we came up empty handed then we would accept that. Not to look was not an option we ever considered. We seemed to sail around in circles for the next two weeks and were about to head for port when a tremendous storm erupted. I heard some sailors say they had never seen anything like it and our ship was tossed around like a toy boat in the bath of a two year old. Father and I were urged to remain below decks but when we realised that the ship was taking on water we ventured out as we were sure that it would soon sink. It was the last time I would ever see Father. The last thing I recall was slipping on the deck and hitting my head. I must have fallen over the side after that for the next thing I knew I awoke with my face resting against the sand of a beach. I heard voices and as I raised my head I recognised them as German. "Get up!" I did not rise fast enough and was pulled up by my shoulder. "Where am I?" There were seven men stood on the beach, six in a type of bedraggled Naval uniform and the last in a green one-piece suit. The latter was knelt with his hands behind his head and a man pointing a gun at him. I found his clothes the oddest of all. It resembled a boiler suit yet had markings all over it, including an American Flag, though the flag appeared to have far more stars upon it than I could recall when I last saw one. "You are English? You're German is good. We need more women that can speak our language." I tried to take in everything about them but their uniforms were ones I had never seen before and yet I had attended balls in Berlin. There I had seen the uniforms of both officers and enlisted men in the Imperial Navy yet there were few similarities. The oddest symbol on them was what I knew to be a swastika. I found that odd, as it was a symbol used by many ancient races such as the Celts and the Egyptians representing the sun. Their guns were odd too. I recognised the Luger pistol one had, and another held a bolt action rifle but the other ones were not anything I had ever seen before. Two of them had a heated discussion about not wasting time and I gathered that something worried them about being in the open. After our hands were tied behind our backs the man in green and I were led away down the beach and onto a trail leading into the palm trees and the jungle beyond. "I'd shake your hand and introduce myself Ma'am but as you see my hands are tied. I'm Captain Julian Schuster by the way. What's yours?" I returned the introduction and asked him why they were treating us this way. "Well Ma'am, I've been here for half a day by my reckoning and I am still finding things out but I'll tell ya what I know. These guys are from a World War 2 Nazi submarine but they ain't old, don't seem crazy and are as close to the genuine article as I can tell." I hadn't a clue what he was talking about and asked him what on earth he had just said. "Oh sorry. What year is it Ma'am?" I answered and he uttered an oath that I neither understood nor cared to. "Since you just arrived I guess the Bermuda triangle must be dragging people in from up and down the time line. I'm from 2008. I was flying my Stealth fighter and got into trouble with the storm, managed to eject before it hit the deck though. Lucky for me I guess, even if it means being lost to the triangle." "Captain. I speak twenty languages fluently and have even been known to understand Americans but there was little in your statement that made any sense to me." It brought a chuckle out in him and he tried his best to explain in terms that someone from over a hundred years before his time could understand. We were made to walk for a long time and only got relief from our bonds when we reached a stream. The foliage was changing from jungle to forest and our captors took the opportunity to take a break, although they seemed keener eyed than they had been before. It was a good chance for the Captain to try and explain away something, which he didn't fully understand and found as equally a fantastic concept as I was to. I found out about man flying, how the great nations had fought against each other twice and that John Logie Baird had not been a lunatic after all when he said we would one day send pictures down telegraph lines. I made him deviate his explanation of the island to fill in history so it was fortunate that we had so much time to talk. As he explained, and I have not since found a better explanation, is that we had been drawn into some sort of vortex of time. If a vessel (or aeroplane) came too close to the edge of that vortex it was drawn in. It always caused the destruction of the vessel and quite often the occupants too. It did not matter what part of time that vessel came from but he did not have enough knowledge to hazard a guess why. He had apparently not seen enough 'Star Trek', whatever that meant. I did not stop him to explain what that was and can only assume that it is some sort of book along the lines of a scientific 'Iliad', or one of Mr. Verne's fantastic books. If a person were lucky enough to survive the wreck then they would live on the island at the centre of the Bermuda triangle. The term apparently came about because disappearances seemed to happen in a triangular area and although that is factual the whole idea was considered myth. He had not let on to the Germans that he could speak their language and had gleaned a lot of information that he hadn't been able to deduce. For one, time stood still on the island. The Germans had beached their submarine (not as new an invention as he presupposed I would consider it as I knew more about his civil war than he did) on the other side of island and had been there for thirty years yet one looked too young to shave. Timeless Atlantis Ch. 01 I thought that it might be because he was the son of an original mariner but apparently women were in very short supply and unable to carry children. Those that were available were no better than slaves. He added that given my age and beauty (his words not mine, as I am far too modest) the men would make use of me for their pleasure rather than put me to work. "If they cannot die then why do they seem so nervous?" What he told me next confirmed what Father and I had come to Bermuda for. "Well, although I haven't seen any evidence of it myself it seems there's a race of women here that round up stray women and slaughter the men they find. I find the notion bizarre but who can discount anything? We are in the middle of a time vortex after all." I ran through what he had said through my mind. If what the Germans said in his presence was true, and I had no reason to doubt it, then things started to slot into place. Somehow the vortex manifested itself when Atlantis disappeared. Much of the civilization must have been destroyed and could not have been helped by intruders turning up every so often. I wondered if they really were entirely man free. I doubted it. They had to have had men at one time in order to breed and records show they did have. Enemies often alter truth and make lies about each other so a rumour that they have no men around might just be propaganda. I asked why no one had constructed a boat from the trees and sailed back to normal time. He said that he didn't know but it was not unreasonable to assume that the storm that wrecked ships and aeroplanes would do the same to anything trying to leave. He had noted that the horizon was kind of hazy in all directions and he had his suspicions that all that area would hold for a person would be death and destruction. He told me that he couldn't work out why the sun appeared normal and moved across the sky even though we were supposed to be frozen in time. For him the two facts didn't compliment each other. I thought about it for a while and resolved in my own mind the conundrum. 'I believe it is like the cheap flicker cards that amuse children by showing a man walking across a room for instance using lithograph pictures. Every card is the man but frozen at that exact moment when the film was exposed. When we look at them being flicked we do so from the perspective that each one follows the next and so it appears as if it is a moving picture when in fact all we have seen is a series of pictures showing a man frozen in time. We can see him and he appears real yet he doesn't exist in our reality, does not know we exist but whilst he reacts with us by our seeing him we cannot interact with him at all. All we are seeing is the sun from our perspective that the day is progressing. But in fact we are only seeing the sun as it looked at a particular time of day once upon a time. It appears real to us because we see it and believe it to be moving. But it does not interact with us because to the sun we do not exist." He pondered my analogy and chuckled, "Well I wouldn't have credited it but I guess a Victorian perspective on the problem might explain a few things but not everything. In our time we know about radiation and light waves. If that sun weren't real how come it feels so warm and why have I got sunburn?" It was my turn to laugh at his ignorance, "I will have you know Captain that Marie Curie taught us all about radiation and I am aware of what the sun does but you are overlooking a number of facts. Firstly you are the only one to be suffering sunburn. I have something of a tan because I have recently returned from North Africa but none of the mariners are showing any signs that the sun has affected them. You tried to explain how a Jet engine worked to me earlier and so all I can deduce is that when you left your aeroplane you passed within a distance of the flames of that engine close enough to burn you. I'm sure it will disappear as time goes by. As for the temperature I believe it has remained the same since the vortex appeared. If we are no longer part of time then I doubt that heat could escape." Just then I heard a little whistle and a thump. Moments later one of the Germans fell backwards. As he did his gun began to fire and at a tremendous rate too. His comrades saw the arrow in his chest and began to fire wildly into the trees. The Captain saw it as a chance to capture the weapon in all the confusion. But before he had the chance to even pick the weapon up another arrow struck him in the chest. He fell flat on the ground and died. I did not wish to suffer the same fate and an arrow seemed the logical consequence of remaining upright as the rapid fire of their guns did nothing to stop arrows from being fired. It would also have been foolhardy to remain in a position whereby a stray bullet would have hit me. It was not overly hot that afternoon but the five remaining Germans seemed to sweat profusely. They tried to take cover behind trees and so on, their eyes darting back and forth, seeking a target. Another arrow brought the young sailor down, but from a different angle to the first two. Another burst of gunfire ineffectually fired into the trees. Minutes passed and the four of them waited to find out if they had hit their mark or simply wasted ammunition whilst their attacker moved to a different firing position. The latter was sadly true. It went on for over an hour until the last man had no more ammunition. He looked at me, and for a moment considered what his options were before deciding there was one thing left he could do so jumped onto me. He pulled out a dagger and held it to my throat, looking around and then shouting in German that unless he could go free I would be killed. I found that odd and wondered if he hadn't gone mad. I certainly feared for my own safety from the anonymous archer and felt scared for the first time in my adult life. Even if the archer did not kill the sailor's human shield then there was a good chance his knife would do the job either by accident or design. To be continued... Timeless Atlantis Ch. 02 His sweat and body odor mixed together into a foul smell that was repellant and made all the more so because I could not get away. He had pulled me up and had his back against a tree and his front guarded by my body. He pulled me around the tree, trying to see everywhere at once, wondering where the mysterious attacker would come at him next. I must have looked scared. I certainly felt it and the emotion was powerful enough that even now I get a cold shiver. We waited for what seemed an eternity until we heard a voice. The voice was coming closer and speaking to us. The voice was female and at first I found the language impossible to understand. I had a facility for languages. It had helped no end at archaeological digs and in examining ancient manuscripts. Her language was a strange mixture of Latin, Ancient Greek and a smattering of words that I had only found in a few other Indo European dialects. I remembered enough at the time to get the gist of what she was saying and it did not bode well for my captor. "I am Princess Leanna, third daughter of the Matriarch of my clan. As a warrior of the Colayna Clan I should not soil my hands on scum like you but you have left me little choice." A figure stepped through some bushes and I saw a woman who would not have looked out of place in a Wagnerian opera. Sometimes there are moments when we absorb so much detail that the memory is stuck with us forever. That was one of those moments. She wore sandals that were secured to her by dark brown cords that crisscrossed her calves. Her legs were perfectly formed, a delightful combination of suppleness and a hint of the muscle beneath. She wore no skirt and instead there were thick strips of leather, all embossed with the mark of her clan, and were all that hid her modesty. Roman soldiers wore a similar thing over their skirts but it seemed that this warrior preferred just the leather as it gave her greater movement in combat. Above that she wore a leather breastplate, again very similar to that the Romans wore. This one however had been cut away to allow her generous bosom room to breathe. Her face was that of a woman about to enter her forties but that would have little to do with her true age on the island. It was a beautiful face though. I melted when I saw it. Looking back at when Richard rode to my rescue and all that followed that I only thought that I had fallen in love with him. I felt something in the pit of my stomach that day when I saw her face and it caught me off guard. That beautiful, yet strong face, glaring with hate and disdain in our direction stirred something deep within me. I blushed at the thought that I could find a woman attractive and tried to look away, yet I was drawn. Atop her brow, beneath her hairline was a gold band, signifying her royal blood, and was a fitting accessory to her dirty yellow hair that she wore in one long plat behind her head. She advanced toward us. She had slung her bow and the quiver containing her deadly shafts. I then saw the gilt handle of her short sword at her waist. She unclipped it and the scabbard that enclosed it and tossed it aside. From the other side of her waist she drew out a dagger, not dissimilar in size to the one at my throat. "Since it is the only way I can free this child from you I will allow you to die with honour. Come, cast her aside as I have my sword and we shall do battle with our daggers." He did not understand, or perhaps did not want to accept a fight with her, but he hesitated nevertheless. You did not have to understand her words though to take her aggressive posturing and angry words to mean that she was not there for friendly purposes. Then he pushed me aside and the pair of them moved toward each other. They moved in a circle, weapons in hand, eyeing each other, waiting for a moment the other could be hurt. They both swept their daggers near each other, their foe stepping back a pace to avoid a cut. The man took to lunging out, wanting a quick end to the fight, which is a dangerous mistake to make. Leanna sought her moment and in almost one movement, side stepped, pulled on his arm with her free hand and plunged her blade into his stomach. He began to double over and Leanna plunged the dagger in further. I winced at the obvious pain on his face but his death was unlikely to be a mercifully quick one. Leanna turned and walked away from him toward her sword. She carefully clipped it back on and then walked back. Standing over him she withdrew the blade from the scabbard and raised it above her head. "Unlike you we abhor suffering, so I will put you out of your misery like the dog you are." The blade must have been wickedly sharp for in one stroke his head tumbled from his shoulders. She wiped the blood on his shirt before putting it back into the scabbard. "I wonder how many of our clan, our brave warrior sisters, have you given such mercy." She spat on his decapitated head and a globule of saliva dripped off his nose as she beckoned me. "Come, follow me." The words were said slowly and deliberately whilst using her gold braceleted hands to gesture where she expected me to go. I almost smiled, as it seems that regardless of century, gender, race or locale the recognised method or communication to someone who does not understand your language is the same. Say the words slowly and loudly whilst over emphasizing with hand gestures. I overcame my instinct to laugh. There was a seriousness about her that did not seem to come from killing, but it certainly made her a better killer. She was not someone to trifle with so I followed her. Her clothing was far more revealing than mine and I wondered what polite society would have made of me had I worn similar garb. I doubt I could have worn it as well as Leanna though. I have always been slim but never any hint of muscle and my bosom could do with being larger for my height. She on the other hand was every bit the woman I was not. The leather 'skirt' (for want of a better word) swayed back and forth almost hypnotically as I followed. I saw her behind and her buttocks formed a perfect peach as they moved back and forth. I already felt strange in her company, looking at her accentuated body, but looking at her exposed flesh did something else far more basic deep within me. I was horrified that I was looking at her in that way and tried to keep my attention on something else. I nervously coughed and cleared my throat before asking her, in a rather high pitched way, "Where are we going?" Everything she seemed to do was immediate and I was taken aback at the speed she stopped, spun around and looked me in the eye with suspicion. "How do you know our language? Were you with another clan?" I answered truthfully but simplified it. I didn't feel it was wise to say that her civilization had disappeared so completely that no one believed it existed anymore. I explained that I was an archaeologist and had studied her language. It did take some getting used to. I was almost fluent in Greek and Latin but the filling in here and there with the mixture of different languages that made up Atlantian was a case of noticing what she said. My inability to sound quite right convinced her and we carried on. Seeing her looking at me suspiciously and asking me about my past so angrily brought me back to earth with a bump, but it was a surreal experience nonetheless. It was said by one poet, whose name escapes me, that even before you are mauled to death you can admire the beauty of the tiger that is about to do it. I think I came as close as I was ever going to in understanding that notion. She hadn't answered my question but I thought it a wiser course of action to give up the idea of asking again. Regardless of the answer I might have gotten I would eventually find out for myself. What I did find out soon enough was spectacular. The castle had seen better days but many parts of it were still intact and would have rivaled anything in England for the splendor of the design. Parts of it though had been shored up by woodwork and the surrounding walls were now a stockade with firing steps here and there. As we approached the gates two female guards shouted down a challenge, "Who goes there?" Leanna stopped and looked up at them with her hands on her hips and a look of bored indignation. The two women were similarly dressed to Leanna and were grinning ear to ear. "You KNOW who I am because you can see me. Now open the gate before I tell the Matriarch's cook that Roast silky and fillet of Julie are going to be on the menu. I heard them call down, between giggling, to women below to open the gates and when they slowly swung open we stepped forward. Leanna muttered to herself, not wanting anyone to hear "Do all warriors get stupid when they are on duty with their wives?" It was an odd concept that women were allowed to marry and serve as soldiers together. But then there was little that I had experienced that day that did not come under the same heading. I knew that I would be spending the rest of my life on the island and so getting used to the strange differences between the 19th Century and this timeless place was a good idea. I would afterall have to spend something close to eternity on the island. The village inside was, for the main part, what I would have imagined any village looking like during ancient times. The big difference being that there was not a single man there. It did have an air of normality about it though. It seemed quite natural that women were performing physical tasks, being soldiers and courting each other. In fact quite a few women gave me the type of coy smile I'd usually seen women in Hyde park give to young officers that they would have liked to know better. I was taken to the main hall, which was guarded by a pair of warriors in white leather armor, sandals with shin plates of gold, spears, white leather battle skirts and gold Trojan style helmets. Inside I followed Leanna and did as she did. The Matriarch's throne was not gold, nor was it encrusted with jewels. It was pleasing to the eye though. Large enough to look stately it was painted white and covered with yellow satin cushioning. At either side stood two more spearwomen dressed just as the others outside. I admired how they looked. They were powerful, yet sensual and the amount of flesh they revealed could not fail to catch the eye. They were nothing in comparison to Leanna though but then I felt that there was something about her that went beyond mere looks. The Matriarch was dressed in stark contrast to her soldiers. Her smock and cloak were more fitting for a woman that looked to be in her sixties for a start. As a mark of her authority she wore an intricate crown of golden flowers. They were not huge blooms like roses but more like small daisies. It was quite beautiful. I remained quiet and found that I was not being presented as a person to the sovereign but as something of a gift. We both bowed and knelt before her and Leanna spoke, "My Lady I have searched the forest and found new bounty, which I hope pleases you." Unlike Leanna the Matriarch had a friendlier face and demeanor. "Come closer my daughter, I wish to touch your face," She did as commanded and knelt beside her chair. "I worry about you going off alone." Her hand caressed her daughter's hair and cheek and it seemed as if both women had gone back a couple of generations and become mother and small child once more. "Before the time of the great storm Diana the Huntress sent me three of her favourite hand maidens. Two have gone back to her but I still have you. I wish to keep you and should anything happen to me then our clan will need a strong leader." She looked up at her mother. "It is not my path Mother. Adrienne or Sophia would have made fine Matriarchs but I am a hunter. I would choose to remain that way. If you were to leave us to sit at Diana's right hand then I would wish the council to elect a Matriarch." "But I love you Leanna. It would break my heart if you were hurt. Why not take someone with you next time at least?" The older woman withdrew her hand as if it were touching something hot and she looked upset with herself. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me." Leanna withdrew and stood, still with head bowed, but sounding as if she had difficulty in swallowing, "Uh. I have to take your new subject to the slave's quarters Ma'am. Please excuse me." The shame faced Matriarch nodded and Leanna turned and bid me follow her. It was an emotional moment in the main hall and it spoke of untold personal turmoil from days gone by. I took the reference to the great storm to mean when the vortex manifested itself and the island was cut off. Leanna was the true daughter of the Matriarch and had once had sisters. Both had died and it was obvious both felt their loss, though as Leanna passed me I saw the beginnings of a tear and remembered how her mother recoiled when she realised she had asked her not to go alone. There was something behind that and as strong as she was the huntress had an Achilles heel. It could not be assumed however that they had lived for the thousands of years since the vortex arrived. It was apparently the case that days passed seemingly normally but other aspects of the passage of time were out of kilter. The German crew had arrived decades before me yet I had disappeared from normal time fifty years before they were even born. The unfortunate Captain had arrived hours before me too yet after the Germans, having been in real time a hundred years after I would probably have died of old age. I knew there were more interesting quirks yet to be discovered and I wanted to know more about my gorgeous rescuer. How long had the vortex cut her off from the rest of the world and what exactly was it that bothered her so? I followed the Princess through the narrow corridors and stairs of the castle as we headed downward to what I imagined would be dungeons. Given that so much of the castle was in ruins it did not take us long to get to a wooden door, guarded by the same two mischievous married women that were on the gate earlier. Leanna didn't appear impressed, "Did you ask to transfer down here?" She addressed the question to them both, moving her stare back and forth between them. "No Ma'am." The well-practiced look of innocence gave the two grown women the air of a pair of schoolgirls who were used to being sent to the Head Mistress. Leanna did not trust them and so kept up her look of disbelieving disapproval. "Take this new slave in for acceptance. I will see the pair of you later I'm sure. In the meantime think about taking care around me otherwise the pair of you will be back to being slaves yourselves. As I recall you were useless so if you do go back I'll make sure that punishments become a little harsher." I could tell that beneath it all she had a soft spot for the pair. They loved each other and the impish behaviour was a sign of how close they were and of affection they had for Leanna by baiting her. I got the impression that Leanna had no one to act like Silky and her wife Julie did. Perhaps there had been once and seeing them act the way they did made her think kindly about them even though she had to chastise un-soldierlike behaviour. Leanna turned and departed, leaving me with the two soldiers who were fumbling around trying to find the right key. They had no idea I could speak Atlantian, "Do you think that Miss big ass has found THE one with this latest find?" "Nah, she just acts funny with them all. Anyway I think she has a very nice ass. Wouldn't mind a roll in the hay with her myself." The other straightened up and grinned, "Silky, you are such a tart. You know I'll be spanking you for that later." That elicited a 'mmmm' out of the errant Silky. Then as they were about to embrace and I could see their hands wander under each other's battle skirts, caressing the other's buttocks. But before they managed to get their lips together a rather impatient voice from behind the door bellowed, "The door isn't even locked. If you pair of idiots just stand out of the way the poor girl can get in." As I went inside I was met by a delightfully cheerful woman. She was tall and slender and there was very little left to the imagination, as she was naked save for a few items of 'clothing'. In fact all she wore was a black leather thong, a leather paddle tucked into the waistband, strapped sandals (like almost everyone I'd seen so far) and a silver collar with a ring dangling from the front. She beckoned me, believing me to be unable to understand her if she spoke. I decided to let her know what Leanna already knew and she seemed at once surprised and delighted. "That is going to make things so much easier for you. Sometimes it takes slaves years to learn how to speak and then they have to learn either a trade or how to be a servant before they become indentured. I like it far better when it doesn't take too long." The woman was Serpa, not a slave, but a tutor and a free woman. Women that came to the clan would eventually become a part of it, finding their place in society but there was something of a road to travel first. Learning Atlantian was crucial, then after that they found what they were best at before leaving to being indentured. This meant that they weren't quite free but they weren't slaves either. If they performed as a citizen then their freedom would be given to them and they could come and go as they pleased. The only exception to that rule was punishment for most crimes involved going back to being a slave. Submission to the clan and respect for the rule of the Matriarch was instilled into slaves as without it they would not make for good citizens. The paddle was used to punish the infractions of slaves and sometimes a court would sentence a free woman to regular paddling during her confinement. Serpa added, "Though it has other uses too. I love taking it home to my wife, she loves the paddle." I took that to mean she enjoyed paddling her wife as part of their bedroom games but I had got it slightly wrong, "Yes. Sometimes I can't sit down for days after." I didn't know what to say so said nothing. In my world, or rather in the world I used to live in, women going to bed with women was a deplorable concept. Apparently the Queen didn't even believe such a thing was possible. If she had been surprised to learn that such things did go on then it did not compare to my own internal turmoil as I realised that I didn't think that it was anything other than normal in my new home. Serpa went on to tell me a little about herself, "I came here from 2003. My wife and I had just got married in Amsterdam and were flying to Bermuda for our honeymoon when we hit the storm. It must have been fate that we were the only two to survive." The future sounded very much at odds with the 19th century. So much so that I found it difficult to accept that anyone from the future would find being on Atlantis strange in the slightest. "We met on the Internet, in a chat room. It was quite a shock for a Domme like her to find herself a slave. Mind you I'm kind of a Domme here and I am naturally sub." None of that made any sense to me but I just smiled. I had enough to take in anyway without finding out what she was talking about. "That's why I find wearing this stuff so comfortable. Gets me in the mood for my wife I can tell you. But the thing is I find it makes new girls feel at home as they have to wear similar clothes." I wasn't sure I would take to wearing anything so revealing but I knew I'd have to get used to the idea quickly. We stopped outside a door and before opening it she said, "Don't be scared. No one is going to harm you. In here all you have to do is take off those clothes, submit to being bathed and get some new slave's clothes. Oh, you also have to get your pubic hair shaved off too for cleanliness sake. Try not to be alarmed by anything. Relax and you may even enjoy it. As for Tamsin, don't let her trouble you. She is harmless but seems a bit backward. I don't know if they still have drugs in the 25th century but, if so I think she's done a few too many." Timeless Atlantis Ch. 02 I tried to calm myself but as I entered the room I had a sense of foreboding that perhaps for all of Serpa's smiles and friendliness that there was nothing pleasant for me waiting there. Inside were two women, both naked save for strapped sandals, silver collars and tiny cloth skirts with slits down the sides. They both smiled at me and Serpa introduced me to them and them to me. A young girl of about 18 was called Mary and was slim and small breasted. Tamsin was in her early twenties, like me, and was of a bigger build than Mary. She was a trifle plump, which made her ample bosom quite big. I did not need their help to undress but they helped me nevertheless. Tamsin could not stop talking and most of what she said when opened her mouth was sexual. Upon unclipping my bra, "You have nice tits Anne." As she slid down my panties, "I'd love to have a nice ass like that." I was then made to lie down and spread my legs. Mary lathered my sex and produced a razor, which she then used to depilate the area around my vagina. "Bald pussies are so much yummier than hairy ones." Tamsin's statement showed her continuing focus on the sexual. Many women do prefer the lack of hair, as I was later to learn but the removal had a more clinical reason that mere sexual satisfaction. I had known of many tribes around the world where depilation was practiced to limit disease. With that knowledge I did not feel uneasy about what was being done to me. Through another door there was a hug sunken bath. Serpa told us she would return soon and so the three of us were left alone. I knew what had to be done so I steeped into the warm waters. My two companions removed their clothing, picked up bars of soap and stepped in too. I had not had a proper bath since leaving Bermuda weeks before, relying entirely on an inadequate shower on board ship. I allowed myself to relax, trying not to focus on the fact that I was being lathered and washed by two naked women. The warmth of the water was seductive, seeping into my bones, every inch of my flesh being caressed, floating toward that edge of sleep where the merest touch becomes sultry. Soft breasts pressed into my back, with warm breath gently stimulating my ear. Firm, yet soft breasts making the peculiar, yet inviting sensation as they pressed against mine. Sweet Leanna, I thought, how soft was she? Would I feel as comfortable as she allowed the soap to press against my sex so softly? Would her lips feel so soft and tender as they pressed to mine? My earlobe felt the tender pressure from teeth before a wet tongue explored the crevices of my ear. Another tongue probed between my lips. Dancing slowly with my own, yet not insistent. My hips slowly yet surely pressed my sex against the slippery soap, urging clitoral stimulation. Soft hands roaming over my body, teasing, and squeezing. The mouth at mine slowly pulling away, showering my chin, neck and breasts with tiny kisses. The soap drifting away to be replaced by a soft hand, an arm around my waist as I press backwards to feel my buttocks in her lap. Fingers teasing my clitoris to swell and my flower to bloom. My hand on hers, urging the fingers inwards. A gentle sucking on my nipples. I feel them harden, wanting more. Fingers slide into my sex and I gasp. The caresses are gentle. The penetration so firm. The tongue at my ear and mouth at my nipples so delightful. My hips respond to the intrusion in my vagina. Rocking onto it. Getting closer to something that seems so inevitable. My hips rocking more insistently, pressing ever harder against my vaginal intruder. My arms pulling the warm wet body closer to me. I open my eyes for a moment as the mouth on my breast meets with my own for a passionate kiss, tongues dancing an erotic, wild dance. I feel something deep within about to burst forth. I shudder and cry out, my body tensing and holding the woman's breasts tight against my own. I collapsed in her arms and at once felt weaker than I had ever done before. "If you wondered whether you could be a lesbian the time for wondering is over, " said Mary. Tamsin giggled. "Am I disturbing you?" At once I came back to Earth. "I think you're clean enough now Anne. Get out and follow me. Time to get your things and be shown to your cell." The two women looked annoyed. I looked shame faced. I don't think I have ever been so embarrassed. As I was shown in to my cell Serpa noted, "Don't worry. Many women who thought they only liked men have succumbed to the female form. If you can accept that you enjoyed being with a woman then you'll find that life is a wonderful thing to behold. I know because once upon a time I had a beautiful experience and I never looked back after." As I lay on my bed I had a lot to ponder. Just a day before there were certainties in my life. It was all mapped out and I knew exactly what was what. I had a Father and a fiancé. I was going to get married and have children. I had Richard. Although the point was that I had Richard no longer what did I make of myself. I had had intercourse with two women I had just met and all the while I fantasized about another one. It was either a case of me being such a bad person, a trollop, that I would cast aside my betrothed for the sins of the flesh with others or something else. Maybe I hadn't really loved him. Maybe I had confused the love one feels for a close friend or a sibling with true love. He was my equal and treated me as one. Leanna did not consider me anything like an equal and that confused me. I wanted to be treated as an equal, didn't I? I never got that feeling in the pit of my stomach with my equals though. I wanted to bathe her. I wanted to kneel at her feet. I wanted to serve her. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to make love to her. I wanted to...I wanted to be hers. It just couldn't be so. I cast aside all that I had felt for her. I put aside my lustful feelings. I had to be wrong.