by Moose Tyler
Penelope stopped laughing. “Well, the issue should be with this Shana girl not Ursula. Besides, are you sure the cloth was the same? Your expertise on tunics is suspect, Amaria.”
Amaria acknowledged Penelope’s point. “Fair enough, but it was still suspicious. Then I met Calandra, the girl who’s asking her to make all these tunics. There was another. Cat was her name.”
“Wait, she’s making more than one?”
“Apparently, she’s making them for the whole tribe.”
“The whole tribe?”
“Enough to keep her busy through Genesis.”
“Maybe this cloth of Sakina’s isn’t military.”
Amaria shook her head. “No, it was. I don’t want Ursula to get in trouble. She could get the cane.”
Citizens who committed minor infractions were usually spared the cane in lieu of a stern reprimand and some other form of punishment, like when Pandora had painted the markers or when new arrivals relieved themselves in forbidden places like Sacred Meadow and the bathing pools. Amaria doubted the queen would be so forgiving with someone who had stolen something from her army.
“First,” said Penelope, “Ursula is not going to get the cane because I doubt she’s done anything wrong. Second, if you’re so worried, why don’t you just ask her?”
“I haven’t had a chance. Besides, it’s little fish compared to everything else.”
“Your lessons not going well?”
Amaria felt disenchanted with her lessons. She was struggling to figure out how to excel, but there were even bigger issues than that nibbling on her line. “If war comes, will we still take the shield?”
Though she was part divine, Amaria knew that she would die one day, hopefully while fighting to protect the tribe, queen, and the Great Mother, but to do so before she’d taken the shield and had officially become a warrior was fodder for scary dreams.
“There’s always that chance, I suppose,” said Penelope. “If war is close, there’s much to be done. I’m not sure sending us on a silly quest would be a good use of heartbeats.”
The quest wasn’t silly, but Amaria agreed with the other part. If war was coming, citizens would need to be relocated to the Reserve, patrols would be extended farther out to sea and in frequency, the trappings would have to be set, weapon production would double, the list went on.
“Mother will need to be moved as soon as possible,” said Penelope, “but I don’t think she’s strong enough for the transfer.”
“How’s she doing?”
Penelope shrugged. “The same. No. Worse. I thought she stopped breathing twice last night.”
“Oh, no.”
Penelope stopped walking. “She asked me to put a blade in her this morning.”
“Great Mother, P! What did you say?”
“I told her not this day.” Penelope looked up at the sky. “Great Mother forgive me for saying this,” she looked at Amaria, “if war comes before she’s moved, I’ll do it. I’ll drive the blade in myself.” She turned away.
Amaria didn’t know what to say. Her fish was small by comparison. She wanted to rub Penelope’s back the way Amaria’s mother did whenever she was upset, like the time her messenger bird, Red Tail, broke its neck and died in their yard.
Penelope turned around, wiping her eyes. “Ah, so much emotion. It must be the full moon.”
“The tide is churning.” Amaria gave her some space.
Penelope took a few deep breaths as they walked along in silence. After they had skirted the eastern cove, before rounding the last curve, she stopped.
“I’m not going to worry about what may or may not happen,” she said. “We need more information, which we are about to get, and tomorrow we have our lessons, so we can ask Wanje.”
The waves smacked the back of Amaria’s legs, knocking her off balance. She rocked forward but adjusted her stance and regained control. “You have a lesson tomorrow?”
Penelope grimaced. “You don’t?”
The only things Amaria had to do were drop off and deliver berries for the healers by first light and start the agonizing process of selecting which weapons she would give away. Other than that, her schedule was wide open.
Amaria shook her head. “Wanje said she’d send a bird.”
“Maybe she did.”
Amaria wanted to check that heartbeat, but she would risk missing out on the talk if she took a detour to her house first. She’d have to wait until after the fires.
Penelope nudged Amaria. “Want to check?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? It’s about to get thick with citizens. While we’re there, we could grab a reed to help you breathe.”
Amaria wanted to punch Penelope’s arm. Instead, she wrapped her in a loose headlock. She didn’t fight back. Her arms circled Amaria’s waist, and she let herself be dragged around the last curve. On the other side, the trail merged with the main path, and citizens were flocking to the fires.
Amaria let go. “I love you, P.”
“I love you, too, Ree”
Amaria gave her a light punch on the arm before they crossed onto the main path and into the thoroughfare that trickled down the steps towards the southern shoreline.
After each council meeting, fires were lit along the southern coastline, and almost everyone in Themiscia gathered to talk about what had transpired. Vendors dragged their carts out on the sand and set up shop just north of the citizen fires. Because of her bloodline, after Amaria took the shield, she could sit at any fire she wanted, but citizens, except for warriors’ relatives at least sixteen cycles of age, were barred from the talks farther up the coastline. When Amaria and Penelope reached the southern tip, the flames were already licking the night sky.
Penelope stepped onto the sand “Great Mother, it’s busier than Genesis.”
She led the way through the commotion around the first fire. The farmers and game tenders sat on logs, hotly debating.
“We need to expand the hunt party,” Amaria heard one say.
“We don’t have enough hunters,” another argued. “Not enough to feed new arrivals and secure rations.”
Amaria couldn’t imagine the stress the farmers and game tenders were under. If the tribe went to war, and the army was pushed to the last line, they would have to be prepared to feed every citizen on the Reserve sufficiently enough to ward off war’s silent attack, disease and famine.
“We’ll have to pull from the healers’ camp and ask for volunteers to double the efforts,” a third woman said.
The healers congregated around the second fire. When Amaria and Penelope approached, Penelope slowed. They seemed more panicked than the farmers and game tenders.
“They won’t even consider medicine,” someone said.
“Unless something goes wrong,” said Gilda. “We must gladly give up ten healers because if something goes wrong, we will need food and water.”
The others grumbled.
“We’ll have to move the ill to the last line quickly. They’ll need time to stabilize,” said Gilda.
Amaria saw Bridget and Polly sitting on a log facing the flames. Their attention was locked onto the conversation. Penelope picked up the pace, and she and Amaria headed farther up the coastline.
The shop owners and artists sat around the next fire. Amaria was glad she wasn’t participating in their talk. The views of the women and the responsibilities they carried were on opposite sides of the arena. Some were responsible for making weapons and armor, which Amaria was interested in very much, but others didn’t have any real purpose, other than adding confusion and theatrics.
“We must keep a positive frame of mind,” Pandora trilled. “If it gets down to it, we’ll entertain them. Play an upbeat tune, Aretha. Something we can all dance to.”
Aretha banged her drum, and some of the women danced arou
nd. Others looked irritated and kept discussing the issues.
“We’ll need to double our bow supply,” said Sylvia. “There’s also the armor. The younger warriors will need to be fitted. How many can you do, Vanessa?”
Amaria stopped. “They’re talking about our armor,” she said to Penelope.
“Two a day, possibly,” said Vanessa. “It’ll be tight. We could use the practice gear.”
Sylvia nodded. “Good thinking. They won’t be exact fits, but they will have to do.”
Vanessa stood from her crouched position. “Shouldn’t take long to bang out the dents.”
“Bang out the dents. Bang out the dents,” Pandora sang loudly. Aretha beat her drum wildly, and the noise drowned out the more serious conversation.
Amaria plodded along. She would be given used, dented armor to wear in battle, if the tribe went to war. Her heart sank, but she willed her feet to move.
“All this panic,” said Penelope, “for what?”
“That we’re talking about going to war,” Amaria said sharply.
“No, I know, but here these citizens are biting their nails and worrying about details, but they have no say in the matter. It’s up to the queen what the next steps will be, and she won’t come to the fires to discuss. She’ll hole up with the sages and make the decisions privately.”
“Yes, but they have a right to know what lies ahead,” Amaria said, quickening her pace. “If I were a citizen, I’d want to know.”
“But, they have no power, so the knowledge causes them great stress.”
“Wanje says all knowledge is power. We can’t deny some just because a few act like birds when a handler steps in the yard.”
“Well, look at you. Wanje would be impressed.”
“If only I were this eloquent in my lessons.”
Penelope laughed, and she and Amaria breezed past the fourth fire where the naval engineers, architects, and fishers met. Elle, Camille, Berry and Tush were waiting near the fifth fire.
“Give us news, Sisters,” Camille shouted.
“Yes, gives us news,” Berry repeated.
Tush laughed. “They’re not going to tell us anything. Did your boat arrive yesterday, little brain?” She and Elle clapped hands.
Amaria waved them off and kept walking. The more important talk happened at the last fire on the beach.
When they arrived, the discussion was already buzzing. Amaria saw Ophea and Jax loitering near the outskirts of the circle. Ophea looked up and waved them over.
“Great Mother,” said Jax, “you’re missing the talk.”
“What’s happening?” asked Amaria.
“Shhhh,” Ophea hissed.
Amaria looked at the scene and saw Helen pacing back and forth around the fire, passionately preaching. By the looks of it, she had already recruited Sandra, a young but ambitious warrior, for the mission. Amaria saw her mother and Sakina sitting on a log on the opposite side.
She was pleased with the location Ophea and Jax had secured. “Good spot,” she said to Ophea.
Ophea smiled and nodded, and Amaria turned and faced the fire.
Kylan, a middle-ranked warrior, a few cycles older than Sakina stood across from Helen and Sandra. “It’s not that I don’t support you,” she said. “It’s just that I feel we need our strongest swimmers here to secure the first line.”
“We can spare two warriors, if it will prevent war,” Helen said passionately.
“Asking for two is asking a lot,” Kylan said.
Several grumbled in agreement.
“The queen has ordered the investigation,” shouted Helen. “Do you deny her request?”
“She did not make the request. She gave you permission to investigate,” said Kylan, hotly. “I see a difference.”
Amaria agreed. If the queen had requested the investigation, every warrior would have volunteered, and there would be no question of who could or could not be spared. As it was, the queen had simply granted Helen permission to investigate. It was up to Helen to recruit volunteers for her mission.
“I agree with Kylan,” said Janus. “No matter the news of the boat, we must reinforce our borders here.”
Many nodded in agreement. Amaria looked across the conversation and saw Zora and Lyla among the spectators sitting behind Sandra.
Helen looked around. “Rebecca,” she called out. “Surely you have an opinion on the matter.”
“Aye,” said Rebecca.
“Voice it, and let’s discuss the merits.”
Rebecca cleared her throat. “We are all good swimmers. The criteria should be those who support your mission, not the skills they possess.”
“Valid point, but I fear those who support the mission may not speak up.”
“If so, they do not support it wholeheartedly.”
Several warriors clapped.
“Or maybe they are afraid they’ll fall out of the queen’s favor,” said Helen.
A few warriors clapped, including Zora. Amaria rolled her eyes, but refocused on the talk.
Olivia stepped out of the crowd. “I assure you that is not the case.”
Helen turned around. “What is not the case? That some are afraid, or that they will fall out of favor?”
“The queen will not punish any warrior who joins your mission,” Olivia announced.
Helen turned to the audience. “You see, from the mouth of her grace’s favorite, none shall perish for joining the mission.”
The warriors broke into private conversations, but no one volunteered for Helen’s mission.
She threw up her hands. “They don’t believe you, Sister. They know your words are false.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” Olivia looked around. “Who here knows me to be a liar? Bring forth your proof and allow me to clear my name.”
No one spoke.
Olivia turned to Helen. “My words have always been true, even as I speak them now. You are making false claims to conjure support.”
“If my claims are false, bring forth proof of your own.”
“Your passion has overtaken your senses. There’s no proof to bare.”
“And your lack of passion has dulled yours,” said Helen. “Do you believe men to be a threat?”
“Aye.”
“Do you believe that this threat is on the horizon?”
“Aye.”
“Are you afraid of falling out of the queen’s favor?”
Olivia hesitated for a heartbeat. “Nay.”
“Then I challenge you to prove my words false by joining the mission.”
Applause erupted for a few heartbeats before dying down.
“I believe I’m needed here,” said Olivia.
Helen didn’t cede. “Kylan says good swimmers are needed here. You’re not a good swimmer, not at least compared to others, but you’re level-headed, which is needed for this mission.”
“I don’t know that I support investigating the boat, Helen. I need more moons to consider.”
Janus stepped forward. “I think Helen is right,” she said to Olivia. “She is in need of a level head. I would give this mission my blessing, if you were to go.”
“Aye,” others said.
Olivia looked around before turning to Janus. “If you think I will better serve by joining Helen, I will do as the council sees fit.”
“I do,” said Janus. “The Great Mother will be with you.”
Helen whirled around. “Who among you will be the fourth?”
There were a few heartbeats when the only sounds that could be heard were the sea lapping at the shore and the cracking of burning wood.
Sakina stood up. “I will. I support Helen’s mission,” she said, flatly.
A murmur rippled through the crowd. Amaria was stunned. Volunteering for this mission was a little
much, in her opinion. Sakina was barely a warrior, hadn’t had her armor more than a moon, and although Amaria wasn’t sure who else knew, she knew that Sakina had no real interest in serving in the queen’s army.
She walked towards the fire.
“She’s not ready,” someone shouted.
“All warriors are ready,” another yelled.
“I will gladly join your mission, Helen,” Sakina said, bowing, “if you’ll have me.”
Helen looked at Sakina for at least three heartbeats before speaking. “I agree with Aiella,” she said to the crowd. “All warriors are ready.”
Helen extended her hand. Sakina grabbed it and smiled. Amaria couldn’t believe it. Sakina was a master at fake smiling whenever it was required, and she was excellent at delivering smirks, but rarely did genuine happiness show itself on her lips. Amaria smiled despite herself.
Sakina greeted Sandra properly, before clasping forearms with Olivia.
Amaria turned to Penelope.
“The Great Mother will be with her,” said Penelope.
Ophea and Jax both congratulated Amaria.
“Sakina will serve us well,” said Jax.
Ophea nodded. “Fierce for volunteering.”
Amaria looked at her sister surrounded by fanfare. She was in the firelight now, and the swarm closed in around her.
As they walked away from the fire, Ophea and Jax filled Amaria and Penelope in on what they had missed. Lax patrols would not be tolerated, and proper procedures for security checks were to be followed to the Code. The bridges to the Reserve had to be checked, reinforced, or repaired if needed and was to be a top priority for those patrolling the northern boundary of the Great Ravine. Desh had asked if a few soldiers from the Beltline could be spared. Olivia approved the measure, and three patrol groups were reassigned to the north.
Ophea said that the others training to take the shield were meeting at Sacred Meadow to continue the talk, but that she and Jax had to miss out due to an early lesson with Euphora at the Eastern Rim. When Amaria was in Warrior Training, after the fires died down, she and others would gather out in the sea on their slivers. She assumed warriors who had taken the shield did similar things, as did citizens, but she had no interest in joining any post-fire discussion, unless it was by her own hearth. Ophea’s mention of an early lesson had reminded her how imperative it was to check if Wanje had sent a bird.