Chapter Sixty-Eight
Twelve days after burying Aina, Iphinone finally spoke to me again.
Like her daughter had, she had spent every waking hour with the horses, which, in the time since our return, had ventured only as far as the river before returning to us.
They had seemingly decided we were part of their herd, and a herd should stay together.
“Should they not be back by now?” Iphinone said to me. Nothing more. No greeting. No words of comfort or of anger, which I well deserved.
“It will have taken time to gather everything,” I said, hoping to convince myself as much as Iphinone.
“They will have needed to figure out a way to carry it all, and it’s likely they decided to take their time, recuperate a little, and ensure that nothing was missed.
Twelve days is reasonable, perhaps even a couple more. I am not concerned yet.”
“And if they do not return, then what? Do we send a party to find them? You said yourself that scavengers would come to the village when they realized it was abandoned. What if they were there already?”
“Then the scavengers would have faced an unexpected fight,” I told her. “One I fully expect them to have lost.”
Iphinone nodded. I believed that our conversation had ended, that she would walk away and return to her state of silence, yet she spoke again.
“I know you saw her as a daughter. I know you believed you loved her as one, but you are young, and you are wrong. One day, you will learn what that love truly feels like.” With that, she turned and left. She had not shown anger, but she had cut me just as deeply as she’d hoped.
Despite my calm words, I was deeply anxious about the women’s return, and a permanent knot had formed in my gut, one that grew tighter every time the sun set without their return. Soon, Iphinone was not the only one asking questions.
“My mother went back,” a girl from Oreia said.
“I did not wish her to, but there were things in our home she wanted to retrieve. Last night, I dreamed. I saw her wandering in a field, but it was a field of flames, not grass. It is a sign from the gods, is it not? A sign that something terrible has befallen her?”
“The meanings of dreams are difficult to comprehend,” I replied.
“We should send more women back.” Trapezitai sided with so many of the others. “What if they have been taken away as slaves? We should help them. We must help them.”
For this, I had no response. If slave traders had stumbled upon the women, I did not doubt they would have fought back, but if they had been taken, there was little we could do.
“We will wait until the next full moon,” I told them. “Two more days, and if they have not returned by then, I will go.”
The night before my deadline, I did not sleep for the churning unease that twisted in my belly.
Each time I closed my eyes, that young girl’s vision of flames took hold in my mind, only it was not just her mother I saw but every woman I had ordered to Oreia.
I rose as the last stars futilely attempted to cling to the sky, ready to call Erebus and begin the search myself.
But as I mounted him and the sun’s first rays fractured the horizon, I saw the silhouettes.
“They are coming! They are coming!” I did not care how many were still sleeping as I shouted with all my strength.
“Come! We must help them. They are here!” Only as relief flooded through me did I realize how great my fear had been that they would not return.
But the gods had spared me. They had spared us all.
The group’s slow amble was a far cry from the speed with which they had entered the battle, but it was understandable given the countless satchels strapped to the horses.
The other notable change was the number of women who approached—over double the number who had left for Oreia.
More mouths to feed. Our numbers were now so great I did not believe it even mattered anymore.
Damaris was at the front, her posture straight on her horse as she guided these women home to us. As I gazed upon her, I thought how she looked almost as comfortable as Aina upon her steed, only to wish with all my heart I had not.
“These people were among the essentials you needed to gather?” I asked her, raising an eyebrow.
“You asked me to act as you,” Damaris replied. “Besides, we could hardly leave them.”
I glanced over her shoulder at the group of women and children, some of whom were older than Melitta. The fact that they had made the journey was a testament to their strength. We would certainly find uses for them if they had not already chosen roles for themselves.
“I was beginning to worry that you could not recall the way,” I said to her. “You know you have been gone for nearly half a moon. Did you meet trouble?”
Damaris’s cheeks pinched. “A little. A group of men had heard Oreia’s numbers were depleted and came to take what they could. We were already in the houses when we heard them. But we ambushed them. That did not delay us.”
“So did you lose your way? Did you simply decide to rest?”
Rather than responding, Damaris looked behind her, and I realized that for all their traveling, her group did not show a hint of weariness. Instead, excitement buzzed through them.
“Something happened?” I asked. “What is it? What did you do?”
Damaris did not smile, though a spark glinted in her eyes.
“Otrera, you have told me how you value my opinion,” she said. “Told me that my voice can be as your own.”
“Yes…in a way. I suppose.” My uncertainty deepened. “Damaris, what is it? What are you saying?”
Finally, she allowed a smile to flicker on to her face.
“We have been to a place, Otrera. And I think we should move there.”