<span style="font-size: 18px">Considering that the last thing the Englishman could recall was falling into the sea and a blow to his head, Braxton was surprised to be alive....  Was he alive?  Was he in some 'afterlife'?  He believed that he felt himself breathing air, so the philosopher Descartes' logic told him that he still existed, either in the world or the Hereafter.  If it was the Hereafter, Braxton would have to rely on God's grace as the Englishman knew himself to be flawed and that the Christian faith was not as strong in him as he had observed it in others.  To himself he thought, 'I want to live.  I want to live....'<br/>
<br/>
As Braxton's consciousness neared wakefulness, he believed that he heard a woman softly chanting.  The words were not English..., the words were Greek.  His head was in pain, but this pain diminished and disappeared as the chanting ceased.<br/>
<br/>
Now Braxton began to feel strength gradually returning to his body.  He opened his eyes to behold a woman's face, very close to his....  No, she was not truly that close but that she appeared to be something of a giantess.  She was on her knees, administering to him, yet standing next to her was his friend and her head was still an inch or so higher than Wendell's!  She was lovely to behold, he noted, her long dark hair framing a classically beautiful face.  He also noted that she was dressed in beautiful cloth that was styled more for the weather and quite insufficient for feminine modesty.  Still, he was the alien here and it would do him no good to begin lecturing to the natives.  He attempted to sit up, but she placed a hand upon his chest and gently but firmly kept him from moving.  Not strong enough yet to attempt resistance, Braxton lay back and relaxed.  Then he said to her, "Thank you for saving my life."<br/>
<br/>
The giantess seemed a bit puzzled at Braxton's words....  He mildly cursed himself for his foolishness and repeated his thankfulness to her in Greek, "~<i>Thank you for saving my life.</i>"<br/>
<br/>
To Braxton's thinking, her expression changed to one of pleasant surprise.  She said to him, "<i>~I am glad that you know how to speak our tongue, stranger.  This one here,</i>" she indicated Wendell, "<i>~is the only other of your party that we can talk to.  The others are... not learned."  <br/>
<br/>
'</i>It was good to be educated', thought Braxton as he unthinkingly moved a hand to touch his chest.  He felt the amulet, still on it's chain.  He pulled it from beneath his shirt and kissed it before tucking it underneath again.  Did his doctor look at the amulet strangely?  If she did then her expression quickly hid her interest in it.<br/>
<br/>
She removed her hand from Braxton's chest and stood, allowing him to also rise.  Once on his feet, the man clearly saw that while she stood at least two feet taller that his own six foot frame but in beautifully human proportions.  Braxton also noted that along with Wendell there were eleven other men who had survived the... 'Oh, Dear God!' he remembered, 'the ship had been attacked by a sea monster!'<br/>
<br/>
Braxton had wanted to weep at the loss of his fellow Englishmen, but bowed his head and momentarily clapped his right hand over his eyes until he could regain his composure.  He did not want to let anyone see him cry, especially a woman!  If he grieved further then he would do it in private.<br/>
<br/>
Lifting his head and removing his hand, Braxton now saw that the survivors were surrounded by a party of twelve of the giant women.  These women looked stern and untrusting.  They were clothed in leathers that, while still scandalous in English fashion, conveyed the look of soldiers.  His mind understood immediately that, of course, the surviving crew were strangers to these women and it was perfectly reasonable for them to be on their guard.<br/>
<br/>
The mens' clothing had dried since the time that they had washed(?) ashore.  There was likely still some saltwater residue needing to be laundered out.  Still, when their guards instructed their group to begin walking there ought not be any danger of developing rashes unless the walk was a particularly long one.<br/>
<br/>
In the span of about thirty minutes or so, they reached a farmhouse where scantily clad men of their own height, again in perfect accord with the weather but somewhat indecent nonetheless, prepared a wagon and four ponies to convey the men further along on their journey.  The pace of the walking ponies was similar to the pace of their guardians.  In about another thirty minutes they arrived in the Amazonian city.<br/>
<br/>
It was beautiful and magnificent.  More beautiful, thought Braxton, than Athens or Rome must have been at their zeniths!  Could mortal men have truly created this?  Were the old gods real?<br/>
<br/>
They were led to a building.  It might have been a temple or a palace.  They waited a bit while the commander and one other of their guard went inside, likely to report their arrival.  The second soldier returned and led the men inside.<br/>
<br/>
The men appeared to have been taken into a throne room, a huge hall with a dais opposite the doors from which they entered.  Walking closer, they saw six ravishingly beautiful giantesses, three on each side of the throne, with hands on the scabbards of large daggers attached to their garters.  In front of the throne was another giantess, who Braxton imagined, must be their Queen.  His heart ached as he beheld her beauty, but he suppressed his impure thoughts because she was royalty and all of the mens' lives might depend not accidentally giving offense.<br/>
<br/>
Braxton watched as she stepped down from the dias to get a closer look at the men.  Knowing she was a queen, Braxton bowed deeply and held that position, waiting for permission to stand straightly, hoping that his fellows would mimic his actions.  They needed to show proper respect to the ruler of the island.</span>