by Moose Tyler
“It was only a scratch.”
“You don’t think I wanted to draw blood? I care for Ursula as much as you, and I wanted to gouge Zora’s eyes when she brought up Mother, but I didn’t. Standard 104, warriors do not fight in public places such as the Sacred Meadow and the common area.”
Amaria didn’t need the Code Scrolls recited to her. She was aware of the infraction.
Penelope continued. “All disputes not settled by talk must be resolved in private at a location agreed upon by the feuding warriors.”
“I know the Codes, P.”
“Do you?”
“Yes, and so do you. You could have chosen another side.”
Penelope stopped and looked at Amaria like she was crazy. “Just because I disagree with how you handled that, doesn’t mean I’m not on your side. I always stand with you.”
“Well, act like it,” Amaria said, hotly. “I’m going to get an earful from Wanje and my mother. I don’t need you adding to the noise.”
“You don’t think Wanje’s going to give me a sermon?” Penelope asked, just as hotly. “I can hear her now. You should have intervened. Act on your own conscious not that of your sister’s. Whine to someone else, Amaria. I’m just as responsible as you for what happened in there.”
“I didn’t need your help,” Amaria shouted.
“You’re not even making sense now. Of course you needed my help. As much as you won’t admit it, Zora and Lyla, and Venus for that matter, are good fighters. The odds were not in your favor.”
“I could’ve handled it,” she said softly. She knew that, although she could have held her own against Zora, Lyla, and Venus, Penelope’s words had more truth than she was admitting.
“That’s not the point, Amaria.”
“What is the point?”
“The point is, like it or not, I don’t agree with what you did back there, but you can’t be mad at me for it. I’m not casting you to sea. I just wish you’d think before you act is all. You lost control, and losing control puts lives in danger.” Penelope sounded like Desh.
Amaria didn’t respond. She quickened her pace and stormed down the main path towards the eastern docks, her thoughts swirling inside her head. Penelope walked in silence, too, but she did not keep the same pace, and soon Amaria procured a significant lead. She rounded the cove and navigated the treacherous rocks alone, not nearly as excited about witnessing her first council meeting as she had always imagined she would be. A tear slid down on her cheek. She wiped it away before plodding on to Queen’s Cliff towering above the island in the distance.
Queen’s Cliff stuck out of the sea on the eastern coastline at Center Bend. Council meetings were conducted in a hollowed-out chamber in the heart of its base and began shortly after last light on the eve of each full moon, but the queen could call for special counsel whenever she wanted. All sages and warriors who had taken the shield were required to attend. Among the citizens invited were the warriors’ mothers and sisters who were not daughters of Zeus and at least sixteen cycles of age, a council correspondent for Tribe Talk, elite business owners like Gypsus’s grandmother and Madame Shaw, game keepers, weapon makers, naval architects, facility engineers, all of the farmers and fishers, and a handful of representatives from the artists’ camp. No citizen had a voice. They were there to bear witness to the discussions and decisions made. Their responsibility was to relay the news to others not as influential in their social standing to receive an invitation.
Amaria had been anticipating the day she would witness council meetings as part of her duties ever since she was told she would attend, yet now, as she stood in the chamber’s main entrance, she wasn’t sure where to go or what to do. Stone stair cases led to three entrances around the chamber. She could hear muffled chatter coming from inside. She looked at the stairs in the middle and saw light bouncing off the wall above of her. She dusted off her kilt and tried to flatten her braids. She played with the neckpiece and adjusted her leather guards. She looked at the entrance. Citizens bustled into the chamber. She glanced at the stairs. Shadows flickered through the archway. She looked back at the entrance and a smile crept to her lips as she saw Penelope shuffle inside.
She scooted past some citizens and walked over. “Done with your tantrum?”
Amaria nodded.
“I’m surprised you aren’t already inside.”
“Can’t do it without you, P. We’ve been training for this all our lives.”
“You don’t know where to go, do you?”
“Not exactly.”
Penelope shook her head and led Amaria to the left and up the stairs. When they passed through the arch at the top, the path opened into a deep chamber. The air was cold, but the light was bright. Standing at the highest point, benches in half-moons descended in tiers. Three staircases divided the space into four sections, and at the bottom was a player’s stage.
“We’re supposed to sit on the back row farthest to the left.” Penelope said as she walked along the path. “Ophea and Jax sit there. Mortli and Taryn over there, and Zora and Lyla will be on the opposite side.”
Amaria said a quiet prayer thanking the Great Mother for putting three sections of witnesses between her and Zora. She followed Penelope and gawked at the setting.
Tall columns stood behind the stage, and there were two arched doorways that looked like they led deeper into the cave. The torches latched to the posts casted shadows on the walls, but the base of the chamber was bright. Three small fires burned behind a wooden chair with a high back and a bear hide cushion. Amaria thought it looked warmer on stage. “That must be her throne,” she whispered.
Penelope giggled. “You realize we’ll see her tonight.”
“I know.” Amaria only saw the queen from a distance twice every cycle. On Genesis, she and other high-ranking officers watched the Games from the queen’s seats, and during the Great Harvest she always gave a speech to start the feast.
Amaria noticed the benches lined with leather in front of the stage. “The warriors must sit there.”
Penelope looked. “That leather is nice. Unfortunately, ours are these cold clay slabs over here.”
“For now,” said Amaria as she followed Penelope to the last row of benches.
Penelope sat down. “For now.” She scooted closer to the wall to make room.
Amaria sat down and studied the layout of the chamber closer. The witness seats near the stage were already taken, and the benches in the middle were almost full. From her location, she determined that she had a decent view of the stage, but she could also see the warriors’ benches on the right. More witnesses entered. The open seats around them disappeared, and the space got cramped. The heat from all the bodies made Amaria sweat. Her stomach growled.
She nudged Penelope. “Got any food?”
“You just ate.”
Amaria rolled her eyes before punching Penelope’s arm with a firm snap. A short shriek of pain and surprise escaped her lips. The witnesses below turned and glared at her.
“Shhhhhhhhhh,” Amaria hissed.
Penelope’s eyes shot arrows, but she didn’t say a word. The only part that moved was her jaw as she gritted her teeth. Amaria didn’t feel too bad. The anguish wouldn’t last long. The chamber was almost full, and the meeting was about to start.
A maiden walked past the back row and cupped the torches that lined the walls on the left side. Another girl did the same on the right. Everyone’s body became erect, and all focused on the stage. Amaria’s eyes adjusted to the change in light. The first thing she saw was Penelope glaring at her, but the muscles in her face relaxed when Amaria grabbed her hand and squeezed. “Sorry, P. I mean about before, outside the common area.”
Penelope squeezed her hand and smiled. “All’s forgiven.”
Amaria let go and turned her attention to the stage.
Sophia, the queen
’s lead musician, slowly thumped a drum. Amaria hadn’t noticed her before. She was positioned between the two columns on the right. Behind her was Anatha, her top student. The sound of Sophia’s drum was low and steady at first, and Anatha blew into the reed. The music made the hair on Amaria’s arms stand. She saw movement to the left, and her heart leapt.
Warriors entered from the dark holes at the back of the stage. They walked in a line around the columns. Half of them went to the left, and the other half went to the right. They wore their ceremonial fighting kilts and metal chest pieces. A few had small knives tied to their calves and forearms, but they weren’t big, more for show than utility. Amaria reached down and adjusted Little Blade more securely on her leg.
Each warrior wore leather bands around their arms. The more bands they had, along with their thickness and color, indicated their experience. Some looked like they were wearing sleeves. Higher-ranked officers came first, and the younger, less-experienced ones were towards the end. Amaria saw Sakina enter. She wore a dark brown kilt, and from what Amaria could see, she had strips of orange cloth woven into her braids.
The remaining warriors filled the empty benches in front. The last two in line carried torches. They lit the urns around the stage before cupping the flames, placing the staffs in the ground, and taking their posts near the stage.
The sages were next. Wanje entered first, followed by Euphora, Anthea, and Bekos. They all had peacock feathers in their hair and hoods lined with bear hide, but their robes were different. Bekos’s was almost white. Anthea’s had been dyed blue, and Euphora’s was a dark brown. Amaria thought Wanje’s green robe looked the best. Telsa was last to enter.
Amaria smiled at how beautiful she looked. The light from the fires bounced off her honey-colored hair, casting a halo above her head. She had peacock feathers in her ears, but there were none in her hair. She wore a simple tan cloak, but there wasn’t a hood. Penelope nudged Amaria, but Amaria didn’t take her eyes off the stage. It had been many moons since she had seen Telsa. She had moved to the sages’ temple shortly after Amaria had returned from her quest in the Great Ravine.
The sages took their seats at a table to the left. The music from Anatha’s reed and Sophia’s drum came to a climax, and there was silence. A few heartbeats passed before the queen walked into the chamber. She wore a light-yellow tunic that draped to the ground. Gold bands coiled her arms. As she walked to her throne, the cloth swished back and forth across the floor. She took the two steps to the throne with a grace Amaria had only seen while watching a mountain cat run. Her sandals were the color of the earth, and the leather straps circled her ankles and calves. Her crown was simple, a thick gold band with a large pearl tear-dropped in the middle of her forehead. Her flesh was bronze, and her hair was as black as the stones under the waterfall at the lagoon.
The warriors bowed, and the queen returned the bow before speaking. “Great Mother, Bearer of Life, we ask for guidance and protection. Creator of All Things, we are humble before Thee.”
The council members brought their palms together near their chests and dropped their heads. It was quiet, but Amaria could hear the spray slapping against the base of the cliff outside. She bowed her head, but her eyes kept darting up to take in the scene. The queen rose and took her seat, followed by the council members.
After a few heartbeats, three maidens walked onto the stage carrying metal boxes. A fourth one entered, and they circled behind the queen. She didn’t turn around or even seem to notice. She sat as comfortably as she would have had she been alone in an empty field.
The three maidens opened each box, bowed, and exited. The fourth approached carrying a bundle. She bowed before taking position on the right side of the throne and unwrapping the leather.
Amaria saw movement from the warriors’ benches. Sakina and two others moved to the edge of the stage. Amaria looked at the queen. Bekos, Wanje, and Anthea were bowing in front of her. Amaria was surprised at how quickly everything had happened. One heartbeat, she was watching her sister take the stage, and the next, the sages had moved in on the queen. Amaria reprimanded herself for not being more alert to her surroundings. Her eyes scanned the chamber. Most of the witnesses were transfixed on the stage, but there was some movement around the top tiers. Her eyes narrowed on the shadows. She saw small groups of women huddled together, whispering. Amaria wanted to pace, but she turned her attention to the ceremony instead.
Bekos limped towards the warriors standing at the side of the stage and grabbed the tall, lanky one named Jasminth by the arm and dragged her to the throne. The queen stood, as Bekos shoved Jasminth forward. She stumbled, but regained her footing and knelt.
The presentation felt awkward to Amaria. Getting armor was an important event in a warrior’s life. As nervous as she would have been to be within an arm’s reach of the queen, had Amaria been in Jasminth’s sandals, she would not need Wanje to drag her over to receive the gift. Though she was still sore at Sakina, Amaria prayed that she would make a better showing.
“May the queen bless this warrior,” said Bekos, her voice low and grumbling. “She has earned the right to wear the armor. The Great Mother has said so.”
Amaria thought Bekos’s presentation was abrupt and a bit blunt, but this was Amaria’s first council meeting, and she’d never seen an armor ceremony before. For all she knew, this was how it went.
There was a long pause before the queen finally spoke. “Only the Great Mother can bless this warrior, and since you say She has already done so, any blessing I offer is moot. Bring me her metal, and I will approve her advancement and bind her to the contract.”
There was something about the tone in the queen’s voice that made Amaria think that this was not the normal procedure for armor ceremonies. She glanced at Penelope, but Penelope watched the stage intently.
Bekos hobbled to the first box, picked up the armor, and returned.
The queen reached out to the maiden beside her, and the girl placed a leather band in her hand. “Rise, Warrior,” the queen commanded.
Jasminth stood, and the queen grabbed her forearm and extended it gruffly. With her other hand, she snapped the leather out of its coil, making a cracking sound that echoed in the hushed chamber. Chills raced up Amaria’s spine. She cracked the leather again, this time popping it across Jasminth’s arm. The band coiled around her bicep like a snake. The queen tied the knot and secured the leather. “You are now bound to wear the metal of our tribe,” she said flatly. “May the Great Mother protect you from harm.”
She sat down, and Amaria heard a few murmurs rumble around her. Jasminth turned to Bekos awkwardly. Bekos put the metal over her head and tightened it in place. Jasminth turned to the queen and bowed. The queen nodded her approval as Bekos returned to her seat at the sages’ table and Jasminth to the edge of the stage.
Wanje stepped forward. “My queen,” she said, bowing, “I bring before you Sakina.” She motioned, and Sakina walked onto the stage, head held high. “Sakina believes she is ready to accept the honor of wearing the metal for our tribe, and I believe she is fit for the duty. Will the queen grant her the right to be challenged?”
The queen stood. “Aye. Step forward, Warrior.”
Sakina approached. Amaria held her breath. She felt pride for her sister. She was receiving her armor with more dignity than Jasminth. She watched as the queen pulled Sakina close. She grabbed the back of her head with one hand and placed her other across her heart.
The chamber grew so quiet that Amaria wondered if her ears were working properly. She couldn’t hear the sea outside the cave walls, and the growling in her stomach was gone. She leaned forward, hoping a sound would catch her before she fell. On the edge of her seat, gripping tight, she strained to hear. She knew the queen was saying something by the sporadic nods of Sakina’s head, but what was being said could not be heard at the top of the chamber.
She released her and extend
ed her hand to the maiden behind her. The queen took Sakina’s arm. The first crack shot through the silence. It echoed louder than it had during Jasminth’s ceremony. The second came, and the band coiled around Sakina’s arm.
The queen addressed the chamber. “This warrior is ready to wear the armor of our tribe. Bring me her metal.”
Wanje retrieved the armor from the second box, returned, and gave it to the queen.
Armor in hand, the queen faced Sakina. “Kneel.”
Sakina took a knee as the queen slipped the metal over her head and latched the armor into place. She stepped back. “Rise and face this council.”
Sakina stood and turned around. Amaria gasped at how fierce her sister looked. The metal was a perfect fit, and she imagined it felt snug but comfortable. After all, Sylvia had seared the design.
“You are here to bear witness that this warrior is worthy of her rank,” said the queen, “and she is granted all the rights and responsibilities that go with this rank from this night forth. May the Great Mother protect her and our tribe. All in Her Name.”
“All in Her name,” the room said in chorus.
The sudden insertion of audience participation took Amaria off guard, and she panicked. “All in Her name,” she shouted, a late entrance to the choral chant. Her words hit the air a half-beat after everyone else’s, and her voice bounced off the walls harshly like a single note misplayed.
There were stares from the benches below, but the players on stage didn’t notice the outburst. The scene carried on with Sakina bowing and assuming her position off to the side. Wanje returned to the sages’ table as Anthea introduced Hester, the last warrior receiving armor.
The presentation was similar to Wanje’s, and soon all three had received their metal and bindings. Anthea bowed and went to the sages’ table, and the newly-decorated warriors returned to their seats. The girl holding the bundle bowed before disappearing off stage.
The queen sat on her throne. “May anyone who has concern bring their dispute before me now.”
