Becoming a Warrior

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Becoming a Warrior Page 33

by Moose Tyler


  Amaria clasped it. “Take care of yourself out there, P.”

  “You, too.” She grabbed Amaria and hugged her tight. “Sakina will be fine,” she whispered, “and we’ll see each other soon.” She released her and dashed towards the main path.

  Amaria ran the opposite direction to Mesha Cliff.

  The eastern docks were eerily empty. The citizens were being relocated north. Amaria sped up the coastline. Mesha Cliff stretched before her. As she scurried up the base, she wondered if Penelope had reached the Eastern Rim. When Amaria pulled herself over the ledge, the scene before her took her breath away. More warriors than she could count, many on horses, were gathered at the top. Citizens rushed about, lugging wagons of supplies and weapons. The clamor made her head spin, but she refocused and walked towards a small row of tents off to the side where she guessed Janus and other higher-ranked warriors would be.

  Janus sat at a table with a patrol group gathered around, discussing preparations, when Amaria approached the tent. The discussion halted, and Amaria bowed.

  “Amaria,” said Janus, “happy Genesis to you.”

  Amaria was surprised by the greeting. She’d forgotten about Genesis entirely. “Happy Genesis.” Her tongue stuck to the dryness in her mouth. She was parched.

  “It really is regrettable that your match had to end.” Janus reached down and pulled out a scroll. “I was enjoying the battle.”

  It felt like moons since Amaria was in the arena fighting Zora. Things were moving like tree sap yet whizzing by. “The Games should be cancelled,” she said, “under the circumstances, but I’m pleased it was entertaining.”

  Janus smiled. “Very.”

  Amaria bowed again but was unsure of what to do next. Janus sat smiling and twirling the scroll between her hands. Amaria cleared her throat and shifted her stance. She looked at her feet. They looked horrendous—calloused, dry, dirty, cut, and bloody. She hadn’t even noticed until now. Another warrior brushed past her and leaned down and whispered something to Janus.

  Amaria saw Delphi off to the side. She walked over and gave Amaria a water pouch. “You look thirsty,” she said.

  Amaria bowed. “Thank you.” She drained the pouch in two gulps. When it was empty, she looked at Delphi, embarrassed. “Oh, did you want some? I-I-I drank it all,” she stammered. Amaria didn’t recognize her own voice.

  Delphi laughed. “No, thank you though. Keep the pouch. Consider it a welcome gift. I’m Delphi.”

  She reached out her arm, and Amaria took it. “I know. I’m Amaria.”

  “I know.”

  Delphi walked to her place near the table, and Amaria tied the pouch to her kilt. Janus concluded her private discussion, and the warrior who had interrupted hurried away.

  “We have a problem,” Janus said to Amaria. “Since you have yet to take the shield, we aren’t sure where to assign you. To help us decide, I ask that you complete one simple task.” She turned to Delphi. “The metal case.”

  Delphi gave Janus a metal tube with leather straps.

  Janus took it, opened the latch on top, and stuffed the scroll inside. She clasped it shut and handed it to Amaria. “This will keep it dry.”

  Amaria took the tube. “Yes, ma’am.” She adjusted the leather straps and latched it to her back securely.

  “Deliver that to Brithia at the first southern checkpoint.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Then take it, and any other message you’re given, to the remaining southern checkpoints and the tar pits in the north.”

  The northern tar pits were quite a distance from the southern checkpoints. Amaria started working the route over in her mind.

  “Is that clear?” she heard Janus ask.

  Amaria hadn’t been listening. She cursed herself. “Can you repeat?”

  Janus’s smile disappeared. “From which point?”

  “The tar pits in the north.”

  Janus’s look told Amaria that she had missed something important. Amaria looked at her feet.

  Janus’s tone was sharp. “Follow early preparation stage one to help you plan your route.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Speed is important,” Janus continued. “You need to reach the tar pits by first light.”

  Amaria could easily cover the ground to deliver the news to all the checkpoints in the south and make it to the northern tar pits by last light, if she hustled and nothing too serious intervened. Traffic in the water would be light with most patrols helping secure weapons and resources on the Reserve.

  “Is that clear?” Amaria heard Janus ask.

  Amaria cursed herself again for not listening. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Janus looked at her for a few heartbeats before speaking. “I said may the Great Mother protect you.”

  Amaria smiled sheepishly and bowed. “Thank you. May the Great Mother be with you, as well.”

  Janus nodded and waved her away.

  Amaria stepped to the side, and the warriors swarmed around the table and resumed their discussion. She took no extra heartbeats starting her mission. She had been late to both her lessons in Quest Training, but now that she had been given a real assignment, she was going to make certain that she made the deadline. She might not be a warrior and have an official rank, but Amaria was going to be the best rank-less soldier in the queen’s army. She sprinted faster, dodging in and out of the thoroughfare. When she approached the edge of Mesha Cliff, she leapt and dove into the cold, choppy water below to start the swim to the first of three southern checkpoints.

  In hindsight, Amaria was thankful she had been swimming to the first southern checkpoint as part of her punishment for the low marks she had received on her second lesson. She had become so familiar with the route that she could now navigate the water with little thought and was much quicker than she had been earlier in her training.

  She wished she had Silver Wing. It had already been wrapped in leather and caked with clay, adequate protection for the mission she had been given. Let it go, she told herself as she soared past the reef where the second buoy normally would be. A weapon would have only slowed her down. She was making good heartbeats. One more marker to pass, and she’d nearly be to the shore.

  Before long, she noticed the shift in the water, the shift that happened closer to land. She dove deeper and continued swimming until she felt the sand brush across the top of her feet. She slowed her pace as the earth rose up beneath her, pushing her to the top. She surfaced in surveillance mode and slid to the left, staying low and scanning the beach. There didn’t seem to be anyone on this side of the island, even though Janus said that Brithia would be there. The absence of activity made her stomach tighten. Something’s not right. She skirted the shoreline looking for signs of activity.

  She couldn’t circle the entire island. The first southern checkpoint was large. If Brithia were on the other side, Amaria would have to discover that by land. She pushed forward and crawled out of the water. Light flickered off the rocks to her right then disappeared. Amaria pulled herself into a crouch and hurried to a more secure position.

  She traversed the shoreline, looking for a suitable weapon as she went. She didn’t see anything of real use, so she scooped up two medium-sized rocks and continued towards where she thought she saw movement. When she reached the small cave with the decoy supplies, she scurried past the entrance. The cave made her nervous. Its purpose was to lure enemies in, thinking they had discovered weapons, but inside were borrowing worms. Borrowing worms were small but deadly, and no one knew exactly how many were in the cave, only that there were a lot. Just the thought of them made Amaria’s skin itch.

  When borrowing worms crawled in the ear, or anywhere else they could sneak in, they did things to your mind. She had to suffer the worm’s poison once during training. One was placed on her tongue for a few heartbeats. By evening dine, she had g
rown sicker than she had ever been and suffered hallucinations, things she couldn’t rub from her mind, images of loved ones gutted and the skin peeled off her hands. She spent three days at the healers’ camp to get over the physical effects, but if she were being honest, she never fully recovered mentally from the borrowing worms. She wasn’t alone. Every warrior had to taste the poison.

  Amaria climbed over the ledge and looked behind her. “Ew!” She shuddered and turned around just as a wooden stick smacked her across the face.

  She fell back and landed hard on the ground, just steps away from the entrance of the worm cave. The two rocks flew out of her hands. She tried to stand up, but a cloaked figure leapt from the ledge and knocked her down. Within a heartbeat, a knee was in her chest and hands gripped her throat. The sun blinded her from seeing the attacker.

  “I have a—” Amaria tried to speak, but the grasp on her throat tightened, and the knee dug in deeper. She couldn’t breathe.

  The opponent did a flip and slammed Amaria into the rocks before tossing her back towards the cave.

  Amaria slid across the ground but dug her heels in and caught a rock, gaining the leverage she needed to pop up and avoid sliding into the cave. She jumped back and turned to see the figure standing in front of her, face to face. It was Brithia, but she wasn’t wearing a cloak as Amaria had thought. Her blonde hair had been pulled back in a braid and she was caked in mud, head to toe. She blended perfectly with the black rocks of the shoreline.

  “Janus, sent—”

  Amaria didn’t get the chance to finish because Brithia struck again, this time at her throat. The jab was powerful and well-delivered, and Amaria choked on her words. Brithia boxed her ears twice and stamped down on her instep. The blows sent Amaria to the ground, disoriented. Whatever this was, she was certainly not winning. There was only had one other vital to take out before Amaria would be defenseless.

  Brithia lunged for the eyes, but Amaria rolled to the left and knocked her off balance. She fell forward. Amaria sprang and wrapped her legs around her torso. She twisted and took her to the ground. Brithia’s face was now on the edge of the worm cave. She tried to scamper back, but Amaria tightened the squeeze.

  “Okay, okay,” she said, panicked. “I’m done.”

  Amaria loosening her grip. “I have a scroll from Janus.”

  “I know.” Brithia removed herself from the grasp. The heartbeat she was free, she scooted back, stood up, and hurried away from the cave entrance.

  Amaria followed her. “Why did you hit me?”

  Itching and wiping off the back of her neck and arms as she went, Brithia led the way over the ledge. “All sucklings get put to the fire,” she said.

  Amaria had been put to the fire plenty, and not just from Sakina. When she was younger, older members of her bow team did things like hid her palm leather or cut her bowstrings before practice, but that only lasted a few moons. She was left alone after her skills as an archer had become obvious. Others got more fire. Now that Amaria was a senior member of the bow team, she didn’t pick on younger ones. It wasn’t right. It was mean-spirited and cruel, and when it happened to her, she felt small and embarrassed. It was an ugly feeling that she didn’t want anyone to experience, citizen or warrior.

  She handed the scroll to Brithia. “I’m to deliver this to the other southern checkpoints and to the northern tar pits.”

  Brithia took it. “This island’s been secure since before Genesis, but you know that. You’ve been swimming here for moons.”

  Amaria felt exposed. She hadn’t seen anyone during her punishment swims. It made her feel weird knowing that Brithia had been watching. She made a mental note to work harder on her surveillance skills.

  Brithia guided Amaria to a small camp on the top of the ridge. She was surprised by how well it had been camouflaged. From the water, nothing was visible, not even the smoke from the fire burning on the edge of camp, though to Brithia’s credit, it was well-made.

  “I’m waiting for a bird,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

  The fight with Zora, the climb, the swim, and the surprise attack from Brithia had zapped her energy. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Brithia walked away from the fire. “Take what you want of the fish. I can’t go another heartbeat. I have to get the oil.”

  Amaria left the red, meaty fish for Brithia and took the smaller yellow one. She scarfed it down, barely tasting it. She wanted to go for the fruit in the bowl, but Brithia hadn’t included that in her offer. She pinched off a piece of the red, meaty fish and gobbled it up.

  Brithia came back with a vial. “Here.” She tossed it to Amaria. “Just in case.”

  Amaria caught it and gave it a little shake. “Thank you.” She leaned to the side and applied the drops in her ears.

  The only way to kill borrowing worms was to suffocate them with an oil the healers made from orange-ringed berry juice. The potion’s power was limited. It had to be applied before the poison had completely entered the bloodstream, and it didn’t work on citizens. If a citizen got poisoned, they almost always died, no matter how early treatment was delivered. That was why only warriors were allowed in the cave, and they wore headgear that got burned afterwards. They also took a heavy dose of oil in the ears, doused their entire body, and were monitored closely for two moons as added precautions.

  Brithia reached over, picked up the fruit bowl, and extended it to Amaria. “As soon as the bird arrives, you can go. Grab a fresh pouch, if you want.”

  Amaria looked at the fruit and the pile of water pouches on the ground. Heartbeats ago Brithia was pelting her with blows. Now, she was offering fish and fruit. Something felt off. Amaria declined.

  “Suit yourself.” She chucked a few pieces in her mouth and tended the fire.

  Amaria snatched another slice of the red fish and ate it. She went back for seconds and thirds. Soon the meal she had planned to leave for Brithia was nearly gone. To leave so little was an insult, so she tossed the last bit in her mouth before picking out a water pouch and sitting by the fire.

  The sounds of her sipping and the splashing waves around them filled the silence. She wondered if she would be delayed this much at each checkpoint. If so, that would be the reason for the gracious deadline of first light. This was only the first stop and already the sun had started its descent.

  Brithia walked away from the fire and rummaged through a box. “You need a weapon.” She returned carrying a decent-sized blade, already wrapped in a water sheath and secured with leather straps. “Here,” she said. “It’s dangerous out there.”

  The second checkpoint was farther out in the sea. Amaria took the weapon. “Thank you.” She strapped it on her back and, as if on cue, a bird swooped past her and landed on a rock at the edge of camp.

  Brithia walked over and untied the parchment. She read the note. “There is no contact for you to deliver the message to at the checkpoint at south beach.” She crumpled the parchment and tossed it in the fire. “You still need to secure a small satchel there and deliver it to Micah at the tar pits.”

  Amaria tied the water pouch around her waist, and Brithia handed her the scroll from Janus. She strapped it over the blade.

  Brithia smiled. “You look like a pack horse. Pack horses are slow.”

  Amaria bowed. “May the Great Mother be with you.”

  “The same to you, Sister.” She returned to the fire and bowl of fruit as Amaria dashed off.

  Delivering the message to the first southern checkpoint had taken more heartbeats than she thought it would, even though in return she had received a full stomach, water, and a weapon. The trade was fair, but as she navigated the rocky ledge that led to shore, she assessed the ways she could make up for the loss. When she slipped into the water, the idea hit her. It was obvious and simple, the perfect plan to put her back on schedule.

  Instead of swimming to the second post, she wou
ld first secure the satchel at south beach and use the hidden paths and coastline to cover some distance from there. It was easier to carry satchels across land than through water. She’d slip back into the sea at the eastern dock. The swim from there was about the same as it was from Mesha Cliff to the first checkpoint. Amaria smiled at the brilliance of her strategy and put her head down and paddled towards land.

  Amaria made it to the south beach in record heartbeats. When she got to land, the emptiness along the southern shore was useful yet unnerving. Normally, it was decorated with activity, but now, it was as vacant as the common area the day after Genesis. She climbed the tree to the checkpoint platform. Her arms were weak from the swim, but they would get rest when she traveled by land, further proof of the brilliance of her plan.

  When she got to the top, she flung her legs over and reached for the door. Just as she pulled the latch, she felt a flutter in her stomach, the one she always felt when her life was truly in danger. She had experienced it five times before, twice on her quest through the Great Ravine and thrice in the Valley of Sand. She didn’t try to understand why she felt the flutter. She just reacted to it. She leapt back just as the door dropped open and snakes spilled out. She toppled over the platform and felt herself falling for what seemed like a thousand heartbeats. The snakes above her fell too, and after she slammed into the ground, she would only have a beat or two before they poured down on her.

  When she smacked into the earth, the breath was taken from her. The blow was especially painful because of the luggage strapped to her back, but as much as having metal rammed into her shoulder blades hurt, she couldn’t dwell. It was about to rain serpents, and she was fairly certain they weren’t the garden variety. She rolled out of the way just as they hit the ground. She pulled herself to her feet, though the air had yet to return to her lungs, and removed her blade from its sheath.

  As she gained control of her breathing, she assessed the situation. There were a lot of snakes. The exact number was indeterminable because, with a serpent pile, it was hard to tell where one began and the other ended. Several were motionless, either dead or stunned from the fall, but others hissed and snapped at each other. In the center of the heap was the leather satchel she was supposed to retrieve.

 

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