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Artemisia I of Caria, the warrior-queen, experiences bone-crunching defeat at the Battle of Salamis and later finds herself washed upon the shores of Ephesus. She discovers that this is the land of the Amazons, and that she is the new Amazon. A king tells her that a special purpose awaits her if she is willing to embrace her new life.
Write the words. Write about her. Not me, her, he says. I realize that I am imagining this moment of selflessness on the part of the king. I imagine Xerxes saying that Artemisia was better than him. And then I remember how the Persian king once said that Artemisia's display of courage and bravery in battle testified to how men were created from women rather than the other way around. Now, Xerxes motions for me to continue telling his story, which he somehow views as inseparable from the life of Artemisia. Imperious laughter echoed down the corridors of her unconsciousness. Artemisia felt herself rising from deep sleep, glimpsing an inferno raging across a dark sea. Measured footfalls punctured the airy silence of dreaming. The doors of a palace swung open in ominous unison, letting a dark tempest sweep across the gold and marble interior. The war was coming. Artemisia felt the seismic thrust of the dark storm's airy sword. She felt the seamless calm enclosed within the soothing white walls being shattered. Her girlhood now seemed like a distant citadel swallowed whole by the unrelenting storm. The wind was now fiercer than ever, and Artemisia felt herself grow Amazon-like in the face of the unabated storm. The jewel-encrusted crown that her father Lygdamis had placed on her head was now gone, swept away by the storm. The wind plucked memory after memory from her disarrayed mind. Then utter certainty spread throughout her, emboldening her and pushing her to remain firm. Artemisia was now a warrior-queen, gazing defiantly into the dark storm. She marched toward the blackness. With every step forward, the storm retreated. Within moments, she saw the storm withdraw itself into a remote, obscure distance. Artemisia wondered if a part of the storm had entered and twisted the entrails of everything she knew. Now, she felt the same dark wind, only this time it breathed intangibly from a glorious distance. General Themistocles of Athens was readying his naval force to face the Persians at Salamis. Mardonius suggested that the Persians attack the Athenians at sea. Artemisia advised against this course of action. Now, the Persians were preparing for a battle at sea.
After killing the Ephesian king and becoming the new Amazon queen, Artemisia realizes that she has not yet fulfilled her destiny. A ship arrives in Ephesus and reveals that a larger time span has elapsed since the Battle of Salamis than Artemisia previously believed. The ship carries her son Pisindelis, who is eager to meet the queen. Artemisia realizes that twenty years have passed since Salamis, and that the last time she saw her son was when he was an infant. A series of events forces her to come to terms with the past as well as the future that awaits her. "Destiny is a blade, a streak of silver unbending in the unyielding dark. The warrior-queen treads in the snowy sand dunes of time, the ghost of her every movement following her close behind. She moves as the intangible blade moves, piercing a benumbing white horizon. The blade penetrates the dark of the unknown while she drifts along with the ghost of her previous steps. Her footprints instantly dissolve upon every succeeding step forward. Artemisia peers into the cold oblivion before her eyes. She marches on undaunted, untrammeled by the aimless white sea of euphoria. Then she hears her name being uttered slowly, the sweet enunciation of it scraping the bare bones of half-remembrance. Her father Lygdamis appears before her, but she drifts forward as before. A daughterly yet disobedient look crosses her eyes, and a part of her becomes stationary. She becomes as fixed as the spark of a flame that floods her mind with memories. Lygdamis raises a crown before her. Once he places the crown on her head, her monochrome surroundings fade. "You are now queen, my beloved daughter. You are Queen Artemisia I of Caria." At that moment, she feels that she is Athena freshly sprung from the brow of Zeus as she prepares to bestride mortal horizons. Lygdamis gaze remains loving, as loving as she has always remembered him. Then the streak persists along the same spotless desert, allowing her to once again become immune to the perverse migrations of memory. She no longer feels her crown on her head. She feels another crown.
Destiny is a blade, a streak of silver unbending in the unyielding dark. The warrior-queen treads in the snowy sand dunes of time, the ghost of her every movement following her close behind. She moves as the intangible blade moves, piercing a benumbing white horizon. The blade penetrates the dark of the unknown while she drifts along with the ghost of her previous steps. Her footprints instantly dissolve upon every succeeding step forward. Artemisia peers into the cold oblivion before her eyes. She marches on undaunted, untrammeled by the aimless white sea of euphoria. Then she hears her name being uttered slowly, the sweet enunciation of it scraping the bare bones of half-remembrance. Her father Lygdamis appears before her, but she drifts forward as before. A daughterly yet disobedient look crosses her eyes, and a part of her becomes stationary. She becomes as fixed as the spark of a flame that floods her mind with memories. Lygdamis raises a crown before her. Once he places the crown on her head, her monochrome surroundings fade. "You are now queen, my beloved daughter. You are Queen Artemisia I of Caria." At that moment, she feels that she is Athena freshly sprung from the brow of Zeus as she prepares to bestride mortal horizons. Lygdamis' gaze remains loving, as loving as she has always remembered him. Then the streak persists along the same spotless desert, allowing her to once again become immune to the perverse migrations of memory. She no longer feels her crown on her head. She feels another crown. The silver streak now becomes a blade fully whole, entering the king of Ephesus. Artemisia fully inhabits the present, fully savoring this moment in time. She has become an Amazon queen, observing the lavish interior of the palace that now belongs to her. All the palace guards have been slain at her hand. The king of the palace lays dead a few paces from her. Artemisia peers into the formless void, and the vast desert in her mind recedes. Now, she rises and steps beyond the pristine realm of royal security. At the corner of her eye, she nearly imagines Xerxes' imperious laughter drowning in the silences of his newly expired empire. She sees him vanish instantly. Artemisia steps outside the palace. She is a blade piercing the unknown, bending a blackness unknown to her in order to make it fully known to her. She walks.
The true life stories of six little-known fierce ancient warrior queens are told with humor and vivid detail by an award-winning writer. For young readers seeking to be inspired by stories of strong women, this riveting book shines a light on six powerful ancient queens. Highlighting women warriors who ruled in ancient eras, like Hatshepsut in 1492 BCE Egypt, and Zenobia in 260 CE Palmyra, the stories span the globe to reveal the hidden histories of queens who challenged men and fought for the right to rule their queendoms. Award-winning author Vicky Alvear Shectar's lively text and acclaimed illustrator Bill Mayer's witty illustrations showcase these stories filled with history, power, and humor.
Queen Gorgo of Sparta and Queen Artemisia of Caria vie for the Amazonian throne, which they believe will allow them to reign supreme over all other thrones: "She looks into the eyes of the Amazon. She is a queen. A warrior-queen. Gorgo rises from her throne. Her eyes briefly linger on the marble beneath her feet. Then the quickening of sunlight sends her mind drifting upon the unmoving gaze of the Amazon, whose eyes look deep into hers and spark an image in the Spartan queen's mind: the sight of two warrior-queens clashing. Gorgo sees herself fighting with Artemisia as a sea of dust surrounds them. Then other images burst upon her inner calm. The glittering array of the Athenian naval fleet sends the Persians wailing voicelessly in the watery entombment that enfolds them in seconds, and then in the untidy bosom of despair. Artemisia falls below the dimmed surface of the ocean. The Amazon stands before Gorgo, but remains silent. In a single moment, she turns around and leaves as Gorgo wonders if the encounter between her and the queen of Artemisia will occur. "Come back, Amazon. Come back!" At first, she believes the Amazon can hear her. But then she realizes that her words remain inaudible as they were instantly shredded to tatters by her own sense of unwavering anticipation."
Thousands of years ago, in the world of the Ancient Greeks where women were expected to obey their husbands in all matters, to play no part in public life, and to stay inside the house, a princess grew up to be not only a sailor and a ship’s captain, but a famous admiral. Her name was Artemisia, and among all the commanders fighting on the Persian side during the great Persian Wars, she alone dared to give Xerxes an honest opinion that could have saved his entire fleet. This is the story of a real and remarkable princess whose spirit prompted the Persian Great King, Xerxes, to declare, "My men have become women, and my women men!"
It came upon her, the dreaded kiss of the dark. Artemisia saw it concealing her war-filled eyes, feeling its voiceless scream enter her heart again and again. Then all was still, and the discolored sky sent her eyes drifting towards silver visages gleaming with contorted malice. She saw it again, the burning horizon in her dreams. Then she saw the glittering reinforcements of the Persian naval fleet. The night air pulsated gently in her ears, speaking softly like waves of trembling ether. War smiled darkly on some lingering trace of dreamlike innocence deep inside her. Artemisia returned the smile, feeling any remnant of her girlhood recede beneath the waves. She remembers her adolescence and how she maintained a prudent and daughterly demeanor before her father as he fulfilled his kingly affairs. Life in Caria seemed utterly oblivious to the brutality of the battlefield. Artemisia saw the Athenian ships in the distance. She felt her mind's nightmarish return to the battle-torn sea. She was no longer the queen blooming with memories of youth. She was now a warrior-queen. Xerxes speaks her name again. He utters her name in his dying breath. "Artemisia." Her name echoes across an unseen battlefield. I stand before him as he sees himself crawl along a battlefield. Xerxes struggles to move as he crawls slowly. Suddenly, he sees two feet marching toward him. They are the feet of a woman. Xerxes looks up and sees her. Artemisia. She looks down at him in silence. He wants to call out for help. He wants her to help him rise. But the words die in his throat. Artemisia looks down at him in disappointment. Xerxes is unable to bear the weight of her gaze, for he sees the disappointment in her eyes. Then he sees his throne in the near distance. The throne begins to lose stability and now appears to him as ghostly. Xerxes calls out her name again: "Artemisia." She remains silent as she observes him. Xerxes struggles to keep crawling, but then his efforts come to an end. He feels her shadow moving over him. He does not see her as she departs into the distance and is swallowed whole by history's shadows. Xerxes' vision fails him now. There is only darkness.
In this panoramic work of history, Lady Antonia Fraser looks at women who led armies and empires: Cleopatra, Isabella of Spain, Jinga Mbandi, Margaret Thatcher, and Indira Gandhi, among others.