Chapter 5 - Defense Preparations
A lot of mutters and whispers added a cold overhang to the village. Voices muddling the void with fear as thick as quicksand. Sar'tara looked around. None but Kiali seemed intent on seeing the war through to its end. The youngest Selharris, even the women that had already been through their coming of age ceremony, uttered doom sayings. None were as fearless as they claimed to be, their mental fortitude exposed for the brittle clay that it was. Just like me…
Sar'tara refused to let fear stop her now. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, molding her fear into hatred, picturing a Kreivan's looming fist held above her head, and shattering that image through renewed confidence born from a rush of blood. She opened her eyes, chest thumping, and stared at the shrinking backs of the Kreiva heading deeper into the thick of the forest. Kiali was watching them also.
Sar'tara met her elder sister's eyes. They both started towards the forest, armed, determined. It would take the Kreivan women one day to return to their own village. Muscle headed women who thought they sat upon thrones. It'd be an all too easy task to track them down and kill them before they reached their homes. Women who weren't well versed in stealth arts, and who thought of their competition as inferior, would never even imagine that they'd become the hunted.
Kiali's expression was unwavering. Given the focus in her eyes, Sar'tara judged their intentions were aligned. If those three died, their village would be late in hearing the news. The Selharr could use that opportunity to go on the offensive. Sar'tara clenched her fists. Foundations of a meticulous plan began to form in her mind. She would bring the Selharr victory. Would prove her worth and earn her place at her beloved Mother's side.
"I'm still bringing back three heads," Kiali muttered through her teeth. "Just all in one night instead of three."
Sar'tara nodded in reply.
"Where are you going?" Freya asked sternly, stepping before the two huntresses.
"A pointless question, Sister. Surely our expressions makes it obvious," Sar'tara said.
"Kiali, Tara, what does being a Guardian mean to you?"
"What are you speaking of?" Kiali demanded.
"A Guardian protects," Freya said. "We seek our Mother's approval because she prefers those who are strong. A stronger woman will better defend the forest. Better defend all that we and Ny'Danis cherish. Mother loves all of us equally. And she loves the Papillion Forest as well. She prefers strength for a cause, but does not love a stronger daughter more than a weaker one. This bloodshed… It is my belief that she allows it to preserve the forest. To preserve us, her daughters. A few sacrifices for the longevity of the forest. It brings about stronger Guardians. Guardians that will protect the forest from outside threats."
"But the Kreiva have always been aggressors," Sar'tara argued, scowling in disbelief. Freya spoke as if her entire existence hadn't just been insulted by the Kreiva. "You heard Sister Stel'Na, just now. They've started wars before."
"They need to be put down so this bloodshed between sisters will end for good!" Kiali said, keeping her gaze attached to the Kreiva.
"Kiali, was it not you who said that Mother gives birth to whom she wills?" Freya asked. "Do you two plan to kill with the intent to cause their tribe's extinction?"
Both shook their heads.
Freya sighed. "What do you think will happen when the prideful Kreiva Vashiri suffer the humiliation of an attack? Do you think they will suddenly find humility and humbleness?"
"But—" Sar'tara began.
Freya caressed the sides of both Sar'tara and Kiali's heads. "It is better that their attack fails. Better that our strength is made clear. Kiali, you are an amazing huntress. You sit on our council because there are none older, but you also have wisdom enough to deserve a spot there. Do not cloud this wisdom with your emotions."
Kiali looked down.
"And you, Tara," Freya said, smiling softly. "You're kind, but you seem intent on supressing your compassion with anger. It is fine to be upset. But too little compassion can lead to rash decisions you may come to regret."
"…Are you not angered by their insults, Sister?" Sar'tara asked, shuffling her feet and looking down also.
"I've learned to look past words a long time ago. So long as I successfully raise the young to be strong yet kind warriors, I am happy. Neither of you are children. But to me, everyone but Sister Stel'Na is a child. I would have loved to see Mother one last time. But I've resolved myself to withering away in this village, in hopes of providing you all with a better chance of seeing our Mother again. You cannot go and hunt them. We will not seek out the Kreiva village and kill them. It would be like hunting down animals. Our sisters are not animals. We all share the same blood."
Sar'tara looked up, seeing an image akin to Ny'Danis herself. An aged smile filled with experience and kindness, and a touch of sorrow. Her deep brown eyes were easy to get lost in. It felt as if she was experiencing her Mother's love. It made her heart ache. It pained her further to know that Freya had given up on trying to see their Mother again for the sake of her sisters. "Our ultimate task is not to kill but to protect," Freya said again. "We will wait for the Kreiva here. And we will protect our village and our younger sisters together. I may have a weaker body, but that doesn't mean I cannot hold a bow. Though, I pray that they see the error of their ways and do not attack at all."
Sar'tara and Kiali nodded. Freya had a way with words that could soothe even Stel'Na when she was angered. The eldest sister was barking out orders while pulling on a young girl's ear. The Selharr, that were at first in a state of shock, were now bustling about to get to work. Seldom used stone axes and digging utensils were brought out of a storage hut.
"Cut down smaller trees and make wooden stakes. This won't be like last time!" Stel'Na declared. She stomped over to Sar'tara and the others and shoved a couple bone knives into their hands. "If you've time to laze about, go down south to the jute grove and bring back as much as you can carry. Carry them in your mouth if you have to. When you get back, start making as much rope as you can… Actually, two of you go. One stay and help with digging pit traps!" The older woman stormed off and continued to shout.
The three women looked to each other before sharing a brief moment of laughter. "I'll stay to dig," Kiali said. "It's harder work and not suited for Sister Freya, and Tara still needs to recover."
Sar'tara nodded. She and Freya turned to leave.
"Wait for me!" Someone cried as she ran to join them. It was Mina. Her right ear was red. She seemed happy to be away from the eldest and with Freya instead. "I've been told to… to go with you," she said between breaths.
"Fair enough. But can you two keep up with me?" Sar'tara asked with a wicked smile. She ran off ahead, leaving the others to follow at a slower pace.
The sun had passed its peak by the time Sar'tara spotted the grove, her insides still stinging a bit. It was a small area beside a shallow running stream where jute trees grew. She paused behind a thicket. There was a huntress in the stream. A dark skinned woman with one half of her hair braided and the other half like a length of black silk. Her eyes were a deep green much like Sar'tara's own. Or perhaps just a single eye. Her silken hair covered half of her features. She looked to be in her early to mid-forties. Sar'tara thought she saw hidden burn marks on half her face. Two spears were bound to her back and one in her hands.
It was a Mäkhain huntress. She stabbed into the knee deep water with her spear. She took it out to reveal a plump trout wriggling on the sharp end as its blood rolled down the tip. The huntress pushed the fish further up the spear and continued her hunt until half her spear was decorated silver.
Sar'tara took great interest in the hunt. For the Selharr, fish was not an ideal catch. A single fish was too small to be worth spending an arrow on. The river born creatures were a delicacy for the tribe. Rarely anyone brought them back after a hunt.
A small dragonfly settled on Sar'tara's sharp nose. Too much stealth and the insect had mistaken her for a stationary tree. She twitched irritably, causing the thicket to rustle. The Mäkhain huntress whipped her head around in the direction of the sound.
"Show yourself!"
Sar'tara sucked in a breath, wondering if she should feign being an animal. She decided against, thinking it'd be rude if she were discovered spying. She kept her bow in hand and maintained a safe distance from the other woman as she stepped into the clearing.
"Selharri… What business do you have with me?"
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"None, Sister," Sar'tara assured. Half the woman's face was burnt. She wondered how that'd come to happen. "My business is with the jute trees. You may return to your hunt."
The other woman nodded, though she kept a cautious eye on Sar'tara until she'd crossed the stream and entered the jute grove. Mina came along shortly after and began helping with the harvest. The two worked with efficiency as they cut down the thin jutes with their bone knives.
"Where's Sister Freya?" Sar'tara asked after a short while, whipping her head around. The younger girl pointed back. Freya was conversing with the Mäkhain huntress, laughing while doing so. Sar'tara relaxed. They seemed to be on familiar terms. She shrugged and went back to work, moving her hands twice as fast. She worked for two, not wanting to let Freya do more than was necessary.
By dusk, Mina and Sar'tara had collected as much as their arms would allow them to carry. The forest floor began to glow as the flora of night slowly bloomed. The Mäkhain huntress had gone a while ago and Freya had started a campfire on the opposite side of the stream. She was roasting three fishes on a stick along with large capped mushrooms.
"Should we not be returning home, Sister?" Mina asked once they'd crossed the water.
Freya smiled. "A small delay will not matter. Huntress Lein was kind enough to give us three fish. We can return apace after a meal!"
Sar'tara opened her mouth to protest but shut it just as instantly, not realizing that her mouth had watered from the flowing scent. Her stomach growled. A Vashiri huntress knew better than to indulge when there were more pressing matters at hand. They knew better. But that didn't mean they had to act on that knowledge.
Lein had parted willingly with her kills, making them legible for others. Sar'tara set down the jute bundle in her arms and wiped away the sweat that had gathered upon her brow from a long day's work. She washed her face at the stream and came to sit beside Mina and Freya. "Did you know that Mäkhain woman?" Sar'tara asked.
"Yes. We met many years ago, after the Kreiva-Mäkhain war. Some of us Selharr sisters helped with their rebuilding."
Sar'tara waited for more. This was the first she was hearing of the matter. Stel'Na and Freya seemed the only ones aware of the Kreivans' caustic pride, and yet they'd never made mention of wars. "Why were the past aggressions of the Kreiva not mentioned?" she finally asked seeing as how Freya remained silent.
Freya's gaze was fixed on the ashes. "You would have me burden the young with this knowledge, Tara?" she snapped.
Sar'tara was taken aback. She swallowed hard. The flames crackled.
Freya sighed. "I'm sorry. I would rather not recall those memories. Stel'Na was a Guardian at the time. The then eldest of the village ordered about a dozen of us to go help the Mäkhain Vashiri. Of those dozen, eleven would go on to take the Guardian Trials. None returned…"
Sar'tara's mouth hung open.
"Sister Stel'Na confided in me once," Freya continued, voice croaking. "She'd been eight when the Kreiva attacked the Selharr. Some of the Kreiva had supposedly been against the battle and had aided the Selharr in rebuilding following the fact. I wish they would always remain that rational —that peaceful… Wish Mother would… never mind."
Sar'tara regretted having asked the question. Freya's wet eyes twinkled in the light of the fire. She blinked back her tears. Mina refrained from saying anything as well. All three sat in silence, listening to the whispers of a nightly breeze as the sun dipped beyond the horizon. Wish Mother would intervene, Sar'tara thought, completing Freya's unspoken words. Is conflict the only way to create stronger Guardians?
Freya suddenly smiled and began humming. She gave the others each a fish. "Sorry, I didn't mean to dampen the mood. Now eat quickly. Sister Stel'Na will be upset if we return too late. Ah, of course, don't mention this to anyone. They'll be jealous that we kept three whole fish to ourselves," she winked.
Mina nodded as she eagerly took a large bite, instantly regretting not having let it cool down at first. Freya giggled.
Sar'tara could still feel a hint of sorrow from Freya's gentle movements. A slight regret. Somewhere deep inside, she seemed hurt by the fact that she would never be a Guardian. Deeply hurt that eleven Selharr women, sisters she must have been really close with, all died, leaving her alone.
Sar'tara watched Freya closely. Watched as her soft lips neared the fish and gently blew away a thin white line of rising steam. Freya took a careful bite. She juggled the hot piece of meat in her mouth with her tongue, smiling while doing so. There was a level of elegance to everything she did. It was easy to understand why most of the other sisters took such a liking to her. She resembled Ny'Danis the most out of any other. Had most of the beautiful features of the deity save for a head of silver hair and multi-chromatic eyes. Freya noticed her sister's gaze and Sar'tara looked down instantly. She felt a growing heat in her cheeks.
Once they had finished eating, they split the jute bundle into three even parts. Mina picked up her bundle and trotted off towards the village, happy to have a full belly. "Should I carry both our portions, Sister?" Sar'tara asked.
"I'm not that weak." Freya reached up and ran a finger along the edge of Sar'tara's lip before licking the finger clean. "Can't leave any evidence now can we," she said with a wink.
Sar'tara blushed but didn't reply as she turned over a pile of jute.
***
Kiali scraped away dirt from her hands with spring water along with a few others. She could see the beautiful faces of two naiads deep within the water. It'd taken most of the day to make wooden stakes and dig pits around the village within which to place them. Kiali clicked her tongue as she picked at dirt caught under her nails. They were getting bigger than she preferred to keep them. Someone tugged at the edge of her leather skirt. Eight year old Tavi. The youngest Selharri. "Sister, why are the Kreiva attacking us? Aren't we all family?"
"Yes. That is what Mother Ny'Danis has told us," Kiali said. The Kreiva certainly didn't see it that way, making it hard for Kiali to see it that way as well. "I don't have an answer to that question, Tavi. I'm sorry."
"Are we going to die?"
"No. Not so long as we have Mother's blessing. We huntresses will protect this village to our last breaths. If you do find yourself near death, don't be afraid, Tavi. It is just another part of life. You will get to see Mother sooner."
The little girl didn't look convinced. She'd only arrived at the village one year prior. Ny'Danis raised all of her daughters to the age of seven before sending them out to the tribes she selected for them. Tavi had yet to even attend a practice hunt. She got up and began walking away. Kiali could see dirt in between her fingers that she'd failed to wash away. "Watch where you step, Tavi," Kiali called. "Make sure you don't fall into our traps." The sun had set and the pits were harder to notice.
The naiads surfaced. Their normally inquisitive nature had turned into a passive one when hearing whispers of a war. They were the Forest Deity's daughters as well and had no love for seeing their siblings shed each other's blood. Kiali looked into their large dark eyes. Their sullen expressions spoke volumes. They pleaded for an alternative. Her own heart pleaded for it as well. But there were no alternatives. The remaining women made their way back to the village, carefully stepping around the dark pits they'd dug. Come morning, they would be covered with leaves and dirt to better hide them and thin strands of rope would be tied to trees for the purpose of tripping the Kreiva into the traps.
Kiali shivered at the thought of her headstrong sisters haplessly falling into the pits and impaling themselves. She knew what it meant to have pride as a huntress. The Kreiva had such pride in droves. For them to fall to a miserable end, being denied the chance to even fight, would be a most soul crushing way to go. Kiali stood up and shook her hands to rid them of excess water. She paused before a pit trap on her way back to the village, staring down at the sharp stakes within. Perhaps a fitting way to go… She grit her teeth and fought back the urge to shiver again.
No matter what Freya had said, the Kreiva were the aggressors.
***
Sar'tara dropped her jute bundle alongside the two other piles. The Selharr women were grinding plant leaves and stems to make deadly poisons while others checked over bowstrings and knife edges.
Stel'Na was overseeing everything. "All unoccupied hands begin creating string!" she commanded.
"We'll never process the fibers in time," Sar'tara said as she approached. "It takes a number of days to make good rope."
"We don't need good rope," Stel'Na growled. "We need fibers good enough for a one time use. They just need to be effective in tripping our enemy."
"I see. Do you reckon everything is going well?" Sar'tara asked.
"… I don't know. I recall not having such preparations during the previous war. We never truly believed that the Kreiva would follow through with their attack. It was mere fortune that not all their numbers came that day. Else the Selharr may not be alive today."
"Surely that is nonsense. Mother could bear more daughters when she wills. She could easily give birth to more Selharr."
"And who would teach those newborns?"
Sar'tara cocked her head to one side. "Could Mother not teach them? Was that not how it was when she first created the forest after the War of Ashes?"
"I suppose she could. Odd. I've never had the curiosity for ancient history. Not the Flame Bearers or the Tortured Throne. Nor the Heartless demons from the War of Ashes or the vile magic known as Chronary from which they were born. But, I remember all of the stories rather clearly. All I care is that Ny'Danis always was and persists to be. And we, as her daughters, have a duty to protect her and this forest."
"And protect our sisters as well. Yet we prepare to kill each other," Sar'tara said, looking to the starlit sky. It didn't seem all that different from Ny'Danis' stories of the past. The Tortured King was once a great man charged with ruling over people. And yet, pride and arrogance led to his descent into madness. He created Chronary in search of power, and through it, created an army of Heartless, leading to the War of Ashes and the eventual deaths of Ny'Danis' siblings, the three lesser deities, at the hands of the King and his designated Apostles.
Was everything merely a story? Or were there lessons hidden within? Lessons that the Kreiva had entirely forgotten? If only Mother would mediate…
Stel'Na grunted in reply. She looked around, her eyes glazing over the forty-eight others. Everyone was trying to occupy themselves with something. Trying to forget about the very battle they were preparing for. Their hands moved quickly, as if doing so would make the battle end sooner as well. Perhaps it would. They were all afraid to some extent. "Do you want to know what I think our winning chances are, Sar'tara?"
"Why would I burden myself with such knowledge? Wanting to know that would imply that I'm afraid," Sar'tara said, trying to put up an air of confidence.
Stel'Na gave another acknowledging grunt.
Sar'tara clacked her teeth a few times and fidgeted with her fingers. She double checked the leather band around her thigh that held her knives. Triple checked. Then ran her hand along them a fourth time. "What are our chances?" she finally asked.
"High. Unless the Kreiva have gained a granule's worth of intelligence since the last attack so many decades ago. Even then, our traps will slow them down enough for our archers to win the war. I estimate there to be about two hundred of them. The largest Vashiri tribe. At least two thirds are in fighting shape. I hope they aren’t fool enough to send their younglings as well."
Sar'tara glanced at the experienced woman. Stel'Na wore the perfect mask. She was fierce. Strong of both mind and body despite her years. She was raring for a fight. Many of the Selharr teased that her tenure as a Guardian was too short. But that was only a small part of her. The part that she showed the most. Underneath that mask, the former Guardian was also afraid. She'd been but a child when she witnessed a war. A child a mere year off her Mother's care and yet old enough to remember the horrors of a battle.
Stel'Na had every right to be afraid. Just as every other sister. It was a proof of their sanity and their humanity.