Becoming a Warrior Page 3

  “Do not concern yourself too much with things that have yet to transpire. You need to know about the dangers, but you must not be crippled by confusion and fear.”

  Amaria nodded.

  “Your job right now is to prepare to take your shield, and my job is to prepare you. You must be strong in body and mind, if you’re going to survive the quest.”

  Amaria nodded again. She felt worn out, like she’d been treading water in the lagoon all day. “Wanje?”

  “Yes?”

  “I thought you said this lesson was going to be relaxing.”

  Wanje’s laugh was hearty and natural. It rolled from the pit of her stomach and hit the air in a burst. “No lesson in Quest Training is relaxing, Amaria. I just said that so you’d forget about your tunic.”

  Amaria smiled sheepishly, but she liked the sound of her teacher’s laugh. If she couldn’t be a smart student, she’d settle for funny.

  Wanje got serious again. “I hope our conversation hasn’t altered your excitement about this stage of your training.”

  “No. It’s just a lot to think about at once.”

  “Yes, it is, but there’s plenty to look forward to.”

  Amaria was distracted. What she looked forward to most was getting out of the tunic.

  “You’ll witness council meetings, attend the fires, take part in the talk, and after you’ve completed your quest, you’ll be a warrior.”

  Amaria sat up straighter.

  “You have much to look forward to, but for now, look forward to a warm plate and a comfortable bed. The lesson is over. I will see you tomorrow at the top of Mesha Cliff by first light.” Wanje stood and walked to the main path.

  Amaria stood and bowed.

  “Wear anything you like,” said Wanje.

  Amaria thanked the Great Mother quietly.

  “Take the southern route and bring one weapon.” The sage turned and disappeared through the trees.

  Amaria sat down on the bench. She felt anxious. Bits of the lesson played out in her mind. Up until now, the point of her training had always been clear. Hit this target. Build that watercraft. Memorize these facts. Master those climbs. As she reflected on her first lesson in Quest Training, she wasn’t sure what she had learned and worse, how she had fared. All she knew was that she was supposed to form an opinion about something she could barely comprehend. She felt empty and disappointed, like she’d been waiting all cycle for the Sacred Peacock to leave a feast of venison, bear steaks, and sweet rolls by the hearth only to wake Genesis morning to a few berries and dried figs. Her stomach growled. She looked at the sky. The sun would soon retire.

  “Great Mother!”

  She sprang to her feet. She couldn’t linger in disappointment another heartbeat. She needed food, and evening dine would end at last light. There were other places to go after that, but it would cost her. If she wanted a free meal, she’d have to get moving, which meant she’d be stuck in her cumbersome garb a little longer.

  She cursed before hiking up both sides of the cloth and tying it off above her knees. “Never wearing a tunic again,” she vowed, as she tromped down the path towards the common area.

  No one went hungry in Themiscia. The farmers, harvesters, and game tenders were among the hardest working citizens on the island. Not only were they responsible for the meals served in the common area and to the queen and warriors, but they also provided the resources for the businesses and stocked the rations for the Reserve. When Amaria had studied Game and Farming in General Studies, she admired their system. It took an army of citizens to operate yet ran as smooth as a well-oiled bow.

  The common area was near the citizens’ quarters in the north just on the edge of the Farmlands. It was surrounded on three sides by a thatched wall and protected overhead by a thin white cloth. The space that butted against the Farmlands was open to allow for ventilation. Otherwise, the combination of smoke and heat from the fire pits, bodies, talk, and stares would make dining difficult to endure due to the threat of suffocation.

  Normally, Amaria finished her lessons early enough to make it to the common area by the start of group dine, but since she had been giving herself extra workouts in preparation for the next Genesis Games, she often ate later. At first, she worried that she was missing out on tastier options, but she soon realized a smaller plate was the only drawback to dining in the common area closer to last light. It was quieter, and she could relax and talk with her friends without a lot of stares and chatter from close-by tables.

  As Amaria approached, she saw Elle and Camille exit through the archway. Though they were younger than Amaria in cycles, Camille was a formidable opponent in climbing, and Elle could dominate on the sliver.

  Elle looked up and whistled loudly. “Fierce warrior, make way,” she shouted as Amaria walked over.

  Camille chimed in, twirling her tongue loudly and yelping the war cry.

  Amaria was glad the traffic around the common area was thin. Otherwise, her cheeks would have burned with embarrassment.

  “What are you wearing?” Camille asked when Amaria got closer.

  Elle grasped Amaria’s forearm formerly. “Great Mother, I wish I had your legs.”

  “Thank you, Sister.” Amaria looked at Camille. “They haven’t told you?”

  “Told me what?”

  “This is what they make you wear in Quest Training.”

  Camille smirked. “We just saw Penelope, and she’s not wearing that.”

  “That’s because her lesson was at first light.”

  Camille looked at Elle. Elle shrugged. Camille looked at Amaria. “Really?”

  “Really.”

  “Well, I guess we’ve survived worse,” she snickered.

  “The tunic’s only half the horror.”

  Camille stopped laughing. Her eyes widened as if she’d finally gotten a horse to full sprint only to look up and see the edge of the Great Ravine.

  Amaria kept a serious face and stared back for a few heartbeats before cracking a smile. “Suckling.”

  Elle laughed, and she and Amaria clapped hands.

  Camille seemed slightly relieved. “So, we don’t have to wear that?”

  Elle punched Camille’s arm. “Forget the tunic.”

  “Thank you,” said Amaria. “So, who else is still in there?”

  Zora was her primary concern, with Amaria’s mother a close second.

  “It’s pretty cleared out,” said Elle. “We’re headed for a night run. You interested?”

  Amaria loved night runs. They were best when the moon was in its crescent. Sitting on the sliver far out in the water, the talk was always entertaining, and the view of the eastern shore was magical. Fires dotted the island like orange stars in the sky.

  She reached out and grasped Elle’s forearm. “Can’t tonight. Next time.” She grasped Camille’s. “I’ll send you the tunic, since you like it so much.”

  Camille smiled. “That’s okay.”

  They walked to the main path, and Amaria moved towards the archway. “Watch out for bottom skimmers,” she said. “They love dangling legs. Great Mother be with you.”

  Elle raised her fist but kept walking. “Barb to your heart.”

  Amaria waved. “Pierce you, too,” she shouted before walking through the archway.

  Inside the common area, the torches had been lit and the smell of cooked meat, though faint, seasoned the air. Amaria’s stomach growled as she followed the scent. Elle was right; the place had cleared out. Only a handful of stragglers were still getting their plate and, by the looks of it, most of the activity at the tables and around the stalls were just citizens cleaning up and preparing for morning dine. Amaria saw Penelope sitting at the usual table, hunkered over a plate. She was easy to spot no matter how small or large the crowd. Her skin was the color of sheep’s milk squeezed fresh from the utter
, and her hair was like wild fire, though now it was slicked back and tied in a knot at the base of her neck. In training, she had to cover herself with clay to better camouflage.

  Penelope looked up and saw Amaria. She smiled and waved before giving an inquisitive look as she took in the tunic. Amaria ignored her and moved towards the main food stall. She grabbed a plate and walked to the serving table.

  The entire common area was managed by Sheila, an island-born thick around the middle. She kept her grey, curly hair, what little she had left, covered with a blue scarf. The tips of her fingers, what few she had left, were stained red.

  She whirled around. “Amaria! I was starting to worry.”

  Amaria smiled. “Sorry I’m late, Sheila. Is there anything left?”

  “Not much, but I’ll see what I can scrounge up.” She walked to the back of the stall. “I tell you, Amaria, you keep doing all these extra swims and climbs, and you’re going to miss out on more than just food.”

  “It wasn’t extra workouts. It was Quest Training with Wanje.”

  “Today was the day?”

  “Yes. Remember, I told you at morning dine.”

  Sheila waddled to the front. “I feed so many faces, Dear. All the plates look the same.” She stopped to catch her breath before continuing. “I’m afraid there’s nothing left.”

  Amaria’s hopes crashed. She would have to either pay for a leg later or go to bed with nothing in her stomach except for whatever was left at the bottom of the greens and fruit bowls. She forced a smile. “That’s okay.”

  “There was only this.” Sheila pulled a plate from behind her back and set it on the table. It was piled high with roasted snake strips, sizzled greens, sweet rolls, chunks of yellow fruit on a bed of water rinds, and a side of Sheila’s red sauce, which made almost everything taste better. “Get your own drink,” she said.

  Amaria felt like she had died and met the Great Mother. “Sheila!”

  “And you thought I forgot?”

  “This looks divine.”

  “You don’t have long to enjoy.” She took the empty plate from Amaria. “They’re cupping the torches soon.”

  Amaria picked up the full plate. “Thank you.”

  Sheila nodded before waddling away.

  Amaria stopped by another table and grabbed two cups of water before making her way to Penelope. When she sat down, she realized she had forgotten a cloth.

  Penelope handed her one. “I got two.”

  “Thanks.” Amaria set it next to her plate. “This looks good. That Sheila.”

  “Yes, she’s the sweetest on the vine. Now, let’s talk about the bigger issue. What in Great Mother’s name are you wearing?”

  Amaria dipped a snake strip into the sauce, blew on the end, and took a bite. It was seasoned to perfection. She closed her eyes and chewed slowly before swallowing. She dipped again and repeated the process.

  Penelope waited for Amaria to enjoy two more bites before pressing. “Is this a new style?”

  Amaria belched before tasting the sizzled greens, yellow fruit, and a sweet roll. Her cheeks bulged.

  Penelope leaned back and smiled. Her eyes were as green as the thick vines growing in the mountain terrain of the northwest. The color was dazzling. “We’ll come back to the tunic later,” she said. “So?”

  Amaria took a drink and wiped her hands before picking up another snake strip and dousing it in sauce.

  Penelope leaned forward. “How did it go?”

  Amaria ate the strip and some sizzled greens. She picked up a water rind and gnawed on the end.

  “You didn’t do well.”

  Amaria stopped mid-chew. “Who said that?”

  “It’s just the talk.”

  Amaria put the water rind down. Her lesson with Wanje hadn’t ended more than a few heartbeats ago, and already there was talk. Big news traveled fast in Themiscia. “What talk?”

  “Your talk.”

  She hadn’t told anyone about her lesson. Penelope, Sheila, Elle, and Camille were the only ones she’d seen since it had ended. As much as Amaria respected Elle and Camille’s loyalty and discretion, she would have never confided in them about how poorly she felt she had done in her lesson. “What do you mean, your talk?”

  “Had you done well, you would be talking my ears off about every twist and turn of the lesson because that’s all you’ve been talking about for a hundred moons.”

  Amaria looked down at the remains on her plate.

  “But, you’re not talking my ears off, which tells me you didn’t do well. Or at least, you think you didn’t do well.”

  “I don’t know how I did. Everything happened so fast. One heartbeat, I’m at Terra’s—”

  “—And you wore that?”

  Amaria glared at Penelope.

  Penelope fought back a smile. “Sorry. Go on.”

  “The next heartbeat, I’m in a clearing listening to a story about the Great Mother cutting creations from Her womb. They really should have taught us that in Religion.”

  “They did.”

  “What? When?”

  Penelope laughed. “Clearly you didn’t read the last two scrolls.”

  “Of course not. There was no test. I thought that was just suggested reading.”

  Penelope laughed again. “The first scroll was a congratulatory message, but the second was about the antithesis’s dagger. Interesting, but hard to follow.”

  “Well, I got the Wanje version. Did she talk about men with you?”

  Penelope hesitated before answering. “Let’s focus on you, then I’ll tell you about me.”

  Amaria looked at Penelope for a few heartbeats. Her lesson had gone well. She looked tired but seemed at ease.

  “That was it,” said Amaria. “Oh, except at the end. I ripped my tunic and fashioned a satchel out of it to parade around in.”

  Penelope covered her mouth to hide the laugh. “It’s not that bad.”

  Amaria picked up a sweet roll, pinched off a piece, and ate it. “Sure. Now, tell me some good news. Your lesson went well?”

  Penelope looked down at her plate and nodded. “Mostly.”

  “Mostly?”

  “Wanje took me to the far northeast checkpoint.”

  The far northeast checkpoint was beyond the Great Ravine on the edge of the Reserve. Amaria had never seen it. She had only been to the northeast checkpoint and just once. It was where she had started her quest through the Great Ravine. All warriors were taken there on the eve of their eighth birthday and left to survive with nothing but three lasting berries and their instincts.

  “Great Mother, P! What did it look like?”

  “To the east, it looks just like it does from the northeast checkpoint, but to the west—” Penelope closed her eyes and shook her head. “I don’t have the words. It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

  Amaria couldn’t help but feel jealous. All she did for her first lesson was eat fruit and drink tea.

  “We rode all the way to the Beltline.”

  “You rode horses?”

  Penelope nodded. “Only to the Beltline. We crossed over and walked through the Farmlands from there.”

  Amaria ate another pinch of sweet roll but barely tasted the honey on her tongue.

  “Terra’s sounds a lot better,” said Penelope. “I’ve got blistered heels.”

  “No. Your lesson was better. That’s beastly that you saw the northeastern ridge.”

  “Wanje said I probably wouldn’t be stationed there, but she wanted me to see it.”

  Amaria had found the sun in her lesson. Penelope would likely be stationed in the southern waters. She was remarkable on the sliver, much better than Amaria. With a bit more training, she might even give Janus a run for her arrowheads in competition, but on a horse, she wasn’t a strong rider. Only the
best riders were assigned to the north. Amaria had always hoped she’d get posted there after she took the shield. It was a higher rank, and she would have a horse. Until Wanje said otherwise, there was still a chance she could get assigned to her dream post.

  “Sorry, P.”

  “I’m not. You can keep those mountains and trees and clearings and cliffs. My sliver is my horse. The sea, my terrain.”

  Amaria laughed. “I’m putting that on a sign for you for Genesis.”

  “Include, ride with P.” Penelope stopped laughing. “Wait, I’m not competing.”

  “Oh, yeah.”

  Penelope wasn’t competing in the Genesis Games this cycle because she had no heartbeats to train. Her mother had become too sick and needed nearly constant care.

  “How’s she doing?”

  Penelope pushed her plate aside. “She was asleep when I got back from the Reserve, which was a blessing. I needed to wash the cleaning cloths and get healing cream for her sores. Gilda was supposed to bring more sleeping tea. Her breathing is better though. I think the herbs are helping.”

  “Great Mother be with her.”

  “Thank you. You going on the night run with Ellamille?”

  “Who?”

  “Ellamille. I really do worry for them. I don’t know what they’ll do if they get stationed apart.”

  Amaria laughed. “Ellamille?” She laughed harder.

  “That’s not mine. Ursula came up with that one.”

  Leave it to Ursula to come up with something like Ellamille. “Where is she anyway? I miss her face.”

  Penelope shrugged. “We crossed paths after I brought Mother her plate. She had something or other she was late for. You know Urs. She said she’d see us at group dine and told me to tell you happy first council meeting. Can you believe it’s tomorrow?”

  Amaria shook her head. “I can’t. Sakina says they’re boring.”

  “Sakina just likes tart berries. It’s going to be divine. Are you going to wear this satchel you’ve concocted? I pray you do.”

  Amaria chucked a piece of rind at Penelope, but she deflected it. “No,” said Amaria. “I will be in my best fighting kilt. Thank you.”