Chapter Eighty-One
We waited in the shade of the trees, enjoying a new freedom. There were no chores or tasks to do, no houses to repair or meat to hunt, so the women spent the hours before sunset as they wished.
The young women were similar in age to what I had been when I arrived in Ninniya, eighteen years or thereabouts.
They laughed and joked with each other and spent their time perfecting tricks—headstands, handstands, similar movements to those I had learned as a child.
Only these girls were doing it all while on the backs of their steeds.
They were mesmerizing, and at another time, I could have watched them for hours. But I was craving solitude.
As the young women continued to play, I retreated to a quiet space in the copse and snapped some thin willow branches for whittling.
The wood was not suitable for a real arrow. It was too soft and light and would warp after only one or two shots. But Hirtus had long ago taught me the importance of practice and using what nature had given, so I worked, busying my hands to distract my mind.
I was using my knife to peel back the fine skin of the bark when Damaris approached me. In her hand was a chunk of meat from the night before. They had left the carcass in the heat of the embers as we slept, and though hours had passed, it still retained a little warmth.
“Thalassa said I must make you eat this.” Damaris handed me the lump of meat, which was easily big enough for two people. I wondered whether she was to sit and join me or return to the others. Instead, she lingered.
“I lost a child too, you know.”
My head snapped up, and my teeth ground as I fought down a snarl. Not one aimed at Damaris but at Thalassa.
“She told you?”
“No one told me anything.”
“Then how?”
“Because I know you. Because I have watched you. I have watched you since that very first day when you arrived in Ninniya. And you looked so lost. So innocent.” She smiled at the recollection as if it was the sweetest of all her memories.
“I would not have expected you to remember,” I answered truthfully. “Not with all the women who worked for Phile.”
“But none were like you,” she answered. “I watched you that time with Erebus, remember? When you first placed a hand upon him. I was there. I saw the love and passion in your eyes. The energy and excitement that you returned to the village with after that day. It was the same love and passion I saw grow in you this summer when you believed no one was watching. And I saw that light extinguished when you left your chamber three days ago.”
The meat remained in my hand, though a lump had fixed itself in my throat so that I could not hope to swallow.
“It was Cleon’s, was it not?” she said.
I nodded, only to feel a stab where my shattered heart was still struggling to comprehend the magnitude of its loss.
“She,” I said, wishing for Damaris to know I had birthed a daughter. “She was Cleon’s.”
Damaris smiled softly. “Good. He loves you. You deserve to feel that love from someone. From someone who sees you as…as you should be seen.”
There was something unspoken in the silence, something I could not place, yet before I could respond, she was turning and walking away.
Silence came with nightfall. We set watches of three women at a time while the rest would sleep. I had taken the first watch, partially because I believed it was my duty as leader but also because my mind would not rest.
I had brought these women to this battle, not even considering the possibility that we could be walking into a trap. I had acted out of hurt, and that rashness weighed heavily on me.
Dusk had settled, and as I stared at the sky, I found myself lost in the stars.
“You need to sleep.” Thalassa’s voice brought me back to the present, although my hands clenched involuntarily.
“I am perfectly capable of taking this watch, Thalassa,” I said tersely.
“I do not doubt it, but you will need to make the calls tonight should the raiders come. And you will need a clear head for that. Unless, of course, you wish to sleep later and leave me to make the decisions during the battle?”
A small smile quivered on her lips as she knew she had bested me.
“Fine,” I said. “But I do not need much sleep. Wake me when you need a rest.”
“Of course,” she said, though we both knew she was lying.
My sleep was fitful. Images of babies and old women.
Arrows and sheep skulls. All fleeting, with one vision merging into the next before I could make sense of what hidden message was being relayed to me.
I did not know whether the cry I heard was in my dream or my reality, and even as I woke, I was unsure why.
But as I rose to my feet, I saw three torches had been lit in the distance.
“It is time!” I called above the voices of the other women. “It is time to fight!”
We were a force. Forty women thundering on horseback down the hillside. The drumming of our hooves echoed around us, louder than any roar of thunder. We had hoped for the element of surprise, and we had gained it.
It did not take long for us to realize the raiders’ goal; this time, they had come to destroy the farm. I readied my arrow, but I was too slow to stop a torch brought against the dry kindling of a thatch roof. The flames rose in an instant.
“Hold your horses strong. They will fear the fire,” I yelled, cursing myself again. If the horses bolted, the riders could be injured and unable to defend themselves. The flames had to be controlled.
As I fired an arrow into the heart of a torchbearer, I sought that same group of girls I had watched earlier, those who had been so confident with their tricks.
“You six, head around the far side. Ensure the men do not escape around the back.”
They did not ask for further clarification but dug their heels into their steeds. Their horses galloped toward the flames, which continued to grow. Dark plumes of smoke melted into the sky and masked the stars.
“You.” I pointed at another group of women, around half of those who remained. “Find the fountain, the well, wherever they get their water. Extinguish that fire before they lose the entire farm.”
Once again, they did as I asked. Now, there was only one last order that needed to be given.
It was chaos. Men, women, and children were running in every direction, some from the flames, some toward them. We knew what we had to do.
“Women! Find the raiders and kill them. Make sure you hit the right targets. We will not lose an innocent life this night.”
I had thought it would be difficult to distinguish the raiders from the strangers I did not know, particularly in the dark, but as I looked out at the farmers, I smiled.
Over half of the people in the fray were dressed entirely in white—tunics, headscarves, and even scarves around their necks. They were taking no chances.