by Moose Tyler
Amaria declined. She was full from the sweet crawlies.
Sakina took the bowl back. “As much as I would never wear anything but a tunic to Terra’s, and Mother wouldn’t either—,” She ate a piece of fruit. “—I really should have taken your preference into consideration. It was not my intention to trick you.” She ate another piece before setting the bowl on the table beside the chair. “In my defense, I only suggested a tunic. I never said to wear it like that. I mean, what have you done to it?”
“Enough about the tunic, Sakina,” said Mother, her eyes still closed.
“I’m just saying I feel bad is all. I should have told you that nicer fighting kilts, though not as common, are acceptable for the midday crowd at Terra’s.”
“And the late night, too,” added Mother.
“Yes, the late night, too.”
Amaria rubbed the back of her neck. Though she hadn’t done anything physical all day her muscles felt tight and her eyes, heavy. “Well now I know, and I thank you, Sister, for your concern.”
Sakina smiled. “Let me make it up to you.”
Amaria shook her head.
“Yes, Amaria. Let me help.”
“There’s nothing to help with.”
“What do you need?”
“I don’t need anything except a good night’s rest.”
Mother stood up and took her cup to the dining area. “She needs help choosing a weapon.”
Sakina shrugged. “Okay, so what are you thinking? You could always go with the bow.”
Amaria looked at her for a few heartbeats. The bow was the obvious choice. Picking it would be predictable, and she was fairly certain Wanje had asked her to choose one weapon for a reason.
Sakina ate another piece of fruit. “This should be easy. You have so many to choose from.”
“Yet, I keep thinking about the gold-tipped blade.”
The gold-tipped blade was one of two weapons Sakina had taken with her when she moved to the warriors’ camp. The other was the half spear made from red cane that the Sacred Peacock had left her on the Genesis she had won the crown for Terrain Climbing, the only event she ever competed in. The spear was the perfect size, weight, and weapon for a climber, which was why Amaria didn’t ask if the Sacred Peacock had accidentally mixed up the gifts. She had gotten an inkpot, bound parchment, and a piece of leather for her forearm that carried up to four small daggers. The gifts were nice enough, but the red cane spear was a jewel. Sakina even used her own arrowheads to buy a pouch for it from Bows and Blades. Amaria kept her thoughts about the quality of the leather crafting to herself because Sakina never used her arrowheads to buy anything for utility. She would drain her purse on tunics and beads, but she was stubbornly stingy when it came to weaponry.
Sakina stopped chewing and looked at Amaria. “I don’t know why you’re thinking of that toy blade when it’s mine. I paid good arrowheads for it, though I did get quite the bargain.”
Sakina had won the blade in a game of chance at the Harvest Festival three cycles ago. The game was simple. Pay two arrowheads, pick up a shell, and win the prize etched on the other side. The loot had been strung from a pole staked in the ground next to the table. Most of the items were for children, things like toy animals and wood shields too thin to stop a thorn bush branch, but when Amaria and Sakina walked by, Amaria spied the gold-tipped blade among the useless junk. She emptied her purse trying to win it but instead got four toy snakes, three balls, and a shield before running out of arrowheads. She begged Sakina to loan her more and promised to pay back double, but Sakina said she only had two to spare and had decided that she wanted to give the game a go. Amaria watched in disbelief as she turned over the shell, and the gamekeeper handed her the gold-tipped blade.
Sakina never used it after that, or questioned its whereabouts, or threatened to rack Amaria’s knuckles if she touched it like she did with the red cane spear. Amaria had always assumed that when Sakina moved to the warriors’ camp she would leave it in the weapon cabinet.
Amaria forced a laugh. “Yes, and what is the blade now, a jewelry stand?”
Sakina glared at Amaria. “It’s actually perfect for the details I’ve been working on. Thanks for breaking it in.”
The top of Amaria’s ears burned. “My pleasure, Sister. I know blades aren’t really your thing.”
They locked eyes for a few heartbeats before Sakina broke the silence. “You think I don’t know how to use a blade?”
“Not that well.”
Sakina sat back and crossed her arms. “Oh really?”
Mother shouted from the dining area. “Enough, Amaria. Just take the sword above the hearth and be done with it.” She walked into the main room. “It was a nice prize, and you haven’t used it once, not even to practice. It just hangs there collecting dust.”
Sakina smirked. “That’s wasteful, Amaria.”
“Sakina,” Mother snapped as she sat down in her chair.
Sakina rolled her eyes but kept quiet as Amaria removed the swords from the wall. She had been so devastated about losing the crown in Hand-to-Hand Combat to Zora at the last Genesis Games that, when she was presented the reward for winning Horse and Bows at the awards ceremony, she barely noticed the gift. On that day, she had smiled and said thank you to be polite, but deep down she would have forfeited the trophy in a heartbeat for one more round with Zora.
Now, as she examined the blades closer, she thought the designs were beautiful, but the handles were awkward, which was why it had become a decorative piece that visitors commented on when her mother entertained.
Amaria looked at the handles. One side was covered with glass stones, and the other was flat and smooth. She didn’t know the maker, but she doubted they were from Savage Huntress. Sylvia would have never crafted such ugly and impractical sword handles.
“Wanje said only one weapon,” said Amaria.
“The two join at the base and tip to make one,” said Mother.
Sakina chimed in. “Yeah, don’t you ever look at your weapons?”
Mother glared at Sakina. “Quiet.”
Amaria snapped the blades together, and the swords became one. She tested the weight, swinging it in circles, first with her right hand before switching to the left. “The handle is thicker than I prefer, and it’s heavy. It’ll be harder to climb.”
Mother stood up. “Well, Amaria, you can moan about what you can’t control, or you can take advantage of the things you can. It’s your choice. I’ve had a long day. I’m going to bed.” She pulled Sakina to her feet and hugged her. “I’ll see you tomorrow at your fitting, and I’ll make sure your armor is delivered to the chamber.”
Amaria lowered the sword. “Oh yeah, your armor ceremony.”
Sakina smiled. “Thanks for remembering.”
Sakina was being awarded her armor at the council meeting, which was a significant passage for all warriors. It meant that they were being promoted to a higher rank and were no longer the sucklings of the army. That role would soon be filled by Amaria and the others training to take the shield.
Amaria set the sword on the ledge of the hearth. “Who’s doing the armor?”
Mother gave Amaria a hug next. “Gwen,” she said, “but Sylvia’s searing the design.”
“Now who’s jealous,” gushed Amaria. “I bet she’ll do a lovely job.”
“Probably,” said Sakina. “I should be on my way, as well. It’s getting late. Goodnight, Mother. I’ll see you after midday’s horn.”
Mother walked to her room. “Great Mother be with you both. Rest well.” She got to the doorway and turned around. “And Amaria, take care of the hearth before going to bed.”
She pulled the curtain closed, and Amaria cursed under her breath.
Sakina walked to the entry. “Great Mother be with you, Sister.”
Amaria followed her outside. “
I’m excited to see your armor. Truly.”
“I pray you wear that tunic to the council meeting.”
Amaria nodded. “Penelope prays for the same.”
“Then I shall pray that our prayers have been heard.” Sakina walked away from the house. “Better take care of these, too.” She cupped one of the torches but left the other six lit. “Blessings for your lesson tomorrow.” She turned out of the yard and was out of sight before Amaria could say anything else.
Amaria cupped the other torches, ran to the bathing pool, peeled off the tunic, and jumped in to wash off her sweat and grime. After she was clean, she rubbed her mother’s softening cream on her elbows and knees, wrapped the drying cloth around her, and went inside to smolder the hearth, tidy her room, set out her clothes, say a quick prayer, and hopefully, with the Great Mother’s blessing, have a peaceful sleep. Tomorrow was on its way, and hers would start before the bird’s crow, if she was going to make it to the top of Mesha Cliff by first light.
Sheila handed Amaria a cup of sweet crawlies and laughed. Her teeth were missing.
“Sweet crawlies? Very funny,” said Amaria. “Where are your teeth?”
Sheila laughed again. The cackle was throaty and echoed in Amaria’s ears.
Amaria looked up. The light in the common area was bright, too bright for morning dine. “Wanje,” she gasped, remembering her lesson.
She hesitated before bringing the sweet crawlies to her lips and tilting back. They poured into her mouth like water. She looked into the cup. Borrowing worms squirmed around the bottom. Amaria dropped it and spat out what was in her mouth. She looked at the ground. Borrowing worms slithered in the saliva. She looked at Sheila, but Sheila wasn’t there. Amaria spun around. She was alone in the common area. Her ears itched. She lifted her hands and saw borrowing worms on her arms. She tried to wipe them off, but there were too many. She felt them ooze out of her ears and plop onto her shoulders. She wanted to scream, but she couldn’t open her mouth. She shook her head and flicked her arms and legs as hard as she could. She heard someone yell her name. She whirled around and saw her mother racing through the archway.
“Mother,” Amaria yelled. The worms swarmed to her mouth.
Her mother rushed over, grabbed her, and shook hard. “Amaria! Amaria!”
She yanked and yelled until Amaria was jolted out of the horrible dream her mind was trapped in. She sat up in bed, gasping. Her heart pounded, and when she felt her forehead, the sweat was as thick as it would have been had she just finished a workout. She looked around the room. A wick burned on the table near the cabinet, and her mother stood next to the bed wearing a sleeping gown, clearly frazzled by the outburst.
Amaria scooted back. “I had a bad dream.”
“A scary one by the sounds of it.”
Her mother took a cloth from the pocket of her gown, wiped Amaria’s brow with it, and tucked it away.
“Sheila gave me sweet crawlies, but they were borrowing worms.”
“You indulged in too many treats after last light.”
Amaria swung her feet off the bed and put them on the ground. “Maybe.” She rested her elbows on her knees and steadied her breathing.
“You need something in your stomach besides honey. I made eggs and tea. Get yourself together,” Mother said before standing up and leaving the room.
After a few heartbeats, Amaria got dressed for the day. Though she was awake, she felt tired and clumsy as she fiddled with the leather of her kilt, chest piece, and sandals. The borrowing worms dream, the bottom skimmer one before that, the excitement for her first council meeting, and the anxiety about her lesson with Wanje had kept Amaria tossing and turning most of the night. She grabbed two leather bands from the table next to her bed. Fastening one around her wrist and using the other to tie her braids back, she stumbled out of her room. The rest of what she needed was in the library.
She kept most of her weapons in a large cabinet next to the glass door. They were organized by style, size, and use. All her bows, sheaths, and large blades were inside on hooks. Spears, canes, arrows, shafts and the like were tucked away in tall baskets towards the back. Smaller blades and gear were stacked neatly in the drawers.
Amaria flung open the cabinet door, grabbed the large sheath hanging inside, and left the room. She came out of the library and saw her mother sitting in the dining area drinking tea. A plate of food was on the table. Amaria sheathed the bulky sword and leaned it in the entryway before joining her mother for morning dine.
She sat down. “I think I’m ready.” She looked at the plate. There was a feast of eggs, meat strips, steamed greens, and fruit. Amaria picked up an egg and shoved it in her mouth. Two meat strips followed.
“You are not a starving animal, Amaria. Wipe the yolk from your lips, and clean your eyes.”
Amaria picked up the damp cloth in front of her and ran it across her face. The cool fabric made her skin tingle. The hair on her arms straightened, and she felt more awake. She put it down and ate another egg before gobbling up a meat strip.
“I probably won’t see you until after the council meeting,” said Mother. “Sakina’s fitting will last until evening dine.”
“Will you be at group dine?” Amaria shoved the steamed greens in her mouth. Those weren’t her favorite, but it was best to eat them quick and move on.
“No. Olympia and I are dining at Terra’s.”
“Need to borrow my tunic?” Amaria looked up and saw her mother smile. She smiled back before returning to the fruit on the plate.
“I packed a satchel for your lesson.”
“Thank you.” Amaria downed a cup of tea. “I’m going to try to get in an extra swim, if I can.”
“I’m not sure you’ll be able to. Especially if you want to bathe properly before the council meeting. It is a small chamber, Amaria. Don’t be pungent.”
“Yes, ma’am.” She stood up. She needed to go if she was going to make it to Mesha Cliff by first light. She had no heartbeats for a lecture from her mother about the importance of cleanliness. Those lasted far too long and always ended with the suggestion that she cut her braids.
Amaria grabbed the satchel from the table behind her. Inside was a few meat strips, some dried fruit and figs, and a small water pouch. “Thank you, Mother.”
Mother set her cup down and followed Amaria to the entryway. “I’ll see you at the fires.”
Amaria picked up the sheath and strapped the blade to her back. After she fiddled with the leather and adjusted its position to her liking, she slung the food satchel across her shoulder and tightened its straps so that it was taut against her hip. She turned around. “How do I look?”
“You look tired.”
“Thanks.”
“Great Mother be with you. Look for Her presence in the trees.”
“Always.” Amaria kissed her mother’s cheek and dashed out the door, the bulky sword clanking against her back as she ran.
Once out of the yard, she hustled down the rocky ridge that led to the beach. From there, she would skirt around the southwestern coastline. She would have snaked north through the Farmlands had Wanje not specified the route. It would have been more populated with citizens, but it was the quickest way to Mesha Cliff from her house.
Amaria turned right off the rocks and hustled down the steps. The added bulk of the weapon wasn’t too much to bear, more like wearing a weight sack. She didn’t mind weight sacks like some of the others did. They slowed her down, but they also made her faster and stronger after she took them off.
As soon as her feet hit sand, she fastened her sandals to the strap of the food satchel using the band from her wrist. She preferred bare feet when running on the beach. She jogged down the coastline at a steady pace. She liked working out early. Traffic was thinner before first light, especially along the southern waters. In times of peace, the docks were only used for
training or General Studies exercises, and those didn’t start until closer to midday.
She traversed the pier, and the heartbeat she was on the other side, she shifted into a sprint. It was a straight shot from there to the base of Mesha Cliff and an excellent opportunity to boost the rigor of her workout.
As she settled into a stride, her sandals wacked awkwardly at her side but soon fell into rhythm like heels urging her to go faster. She inhaled and exhaled deeply. The sea’s salt in her nose and lungs was like tea to her senses. She put her head down and plowed up the coastline. Her heart pounded out the beats, and her legs churned at top speed. She felt like one of the horses that ran wild through the Great Ravine, the one that had broken free from the herd.
When she neared the base of Mesha Cliff, she slowed to a jog before settling into a brisk walk. Her legs tingled but were warmed up and loose, and Amaria finally felt awake. She removed the water pouch and took a few drinks as she approached the rocks. She put it away, put on her sandals, tightened the straps of the sheath on her back, and sprang into the climb.
Most of the physical training she had to do took place at Mesha Cliff. She had lost count of the number of times she had been asked to scale its wall. The cliff was misleading to a less-experienced climber. It was easier at the bottom than at the top. It took several tries early in her training before Amaria realized the trick. She had to conserve energy for the more difficult parts later in the climb. Using the large crevices to her advantage, she shimmied up the base quickly.
She was halfway to the top when she heard the bird’s crow. It was actually several birds crowing at once. The noise wasn’t too jarring, except closer to the Farmlands, but it was loud enough it could be heard across most of the island, though Amaria wasn’t sure about on the Reserve or posts farther out in the sea. She stopped climbing and listened to the cawing in the distance and smiled at the progress she had made. The Great Mother had been generous. Not only had she gotten in a good run, she was doing well on the climb, possibly a personal best. She had just enough heartbeats to hop onto a more rigorous path and get in an extra arm workout before reaching the top.
