Chapter Sixty-One
“We cannot delay,” I said, hoping fear had erased any desire for sleep in the others as it had done for me.
“We will come to them. Meet them on the road when they are not prepared.” The murmurs continued, yet I spoke above them.
Erebus had not come alone but with his herd.
They were a gift from the goddess, the way we were to survive this battle.
“Any woman who can ride must go with Aina. She will find you a suitable steed.”
“Many of you have ridden before. You do not need to be afraid,” Aina assured them. “The horses know us. They will protect us.”
“Judge your talents,” I told them as they moved. “Being on a horse will not be enough on its own. You will need to wield a weapon too. All the best archers must be able to shoot. If you cannot do so on a horse, then remain with your feet upon the ground.”
“What of the children?” Thalassa said. “Are they to come with us?”
I shuddered, for I had not considered the children. Yet my answer was swift.
“Pick the most secure house, and block the doors and the windows. Dolos and Tasia, you stay with them. Arm yourselves, but be assured we will return.”
The moon inched higher as the women lit the torches. I had told each of those walking to carry two. That way, if the men were to see us coming, they would expect a far greater number.
“Keep the flames away from the horses,” I said. “They do not like them.”
Keeping the animals calm was paramount. If we did not have them, we had nothing.
When all the weapons were gathered, we met together outside Phile’s home. As I prepared to mount, Althea spoke to me.
“They are expecting something from you,” she whispered. “A speech.”
“A speech?” I had given them orders already and did not see what good more words would do. However, a brief glance at their wide eyes and pale complexions assured me she spoke the truth. So I mounted Erebus and pulled him around to face the women.
The moment I did, the village fell silent.
“Women of Ninniya!”
The breeze had dropped away, and in the hush, my raised voice carried clearly through the night air.
My heart hammered against the stillness, though Erebus did not so much as flick his tail or twitch an ear.
It was as if he too was waiting to hear my words.
And as I gazed upon the faces staring up at me, those words fell from my lips as though it was the gods that had placed them on my tongue.
“Tonight I feel the fear that runs through you,” I said.
“I hear the questions burning in your hearts, questions to myself and to the gods.
Why must we fight again? Why must we risk our lives once more when we wish for nothing but safety in our own homes?
Why can we not live in peace? Why must the gods test us again and again?
“I will tell you why, for it is only now that I truly understand it. This is not a test. This battle will be the moment we rise. This night is the moment we show the world that no man is entitled to be in our lives unless we allow him there. We will not be threatened. We will not be intimidated or thought of as less than these men who wish to beat us down. We will rise, and the gods will see us do it. Tonight, tomorrow, whenever we are forced to face these foes, we will claim our places so that no man will ever risk our wrath again! We will rise!”