When Women Were Warriors Book I: The Warrior's Path

Lost...

When I opened my eyes, the morning star was peeking over the horizon. We lay together on the hillside. Pieces of our clothing pillowed my head. Sparrow’s head lay upon my breast. Our only covering was a shirt pulled over our shoulders, but I wasn’t cold. Sparrow’s body warmed me, and the still air of early morning lay warm against my skin.

In just a little while the sounds of morning would begin—the music of birdsong and the sigh of a spring breeze. Now I heard only the soft murmur of the river and the whisper of Sparrow’s breath. I would have held back the dawn, so that I could stay suspended in that perfect moment, but the demands of the body intruded. When I got up to relieve myself, I tried not to disturb Sparrow. She woke up anyway and rubbed her eyes.

“It’s still dark,” she said. She sounded grumpy.

“Not for long.”

I went a short distance away and squatted down in the grass. She sat up and watched me for a moment. Then she got up and joined me. The picture of the two of us squatting side by side there on the hillside struck me as so ridiculous that I had to laugh. Sparrow looked at me, puzzled. Then she too began to laugh.

“We must be a sight,” she said.

“With any luck, no one will notice.”

“There isn’t that much luck in the world. Almost everyone we know is lying somewhere in sight of this hillside.”

“And they’re probably doing the same thing we are.”

“I suppose they are,” she said.

Sparrow took me by the hand and led me down to the river. Hand in hand we leaped into the water. The shock of the cold water took my breath away, but before long I was used to it, and when at last we climbed out onto the riverbank, the air felt warm and welcoming.

I lay down on my back in the grass and looked up at the lightening sky with its scattering of fading stars. Sparrow sat down beside me. She took my hand, turned it over in her hands, examined it. She ran her fingertip along the lines of my palm and played with my fingers. I watched her face. She looked thoughtful, and a bit sad.

“Are you sorry?” she said. She kept her eyes on my hand in hers.

“Sorry? What for?”

She didn’t answer me.

“Are you?” I asked her.

She looked at me, surprised. “No, of course not.”

“Then why should I be sorry?”

She shrugged. “We haven’t had much time for each other. I wondered if you still cared for me a little.”

“Of course I care for you.” I leaned up on one elbow and touched her face. “You’re my friend. I’ve never had a better one.”

She gave me half a smile. “Neither have I.”

A teasing look came into her eyes. Before she could say something that would push me away, I sat up and embraced her. I kissed her cheek and gently stroked her back, and her body relaxed against me. I held her for a moment longer. Then I let her go.

“Let’s go home,” I said.

We found our clothing and dressed ourselves. When we started back up the hill to Merin’s house, I took Sparrow’s hand. I remembered walking up that hill hand in hand with her at the harvest festival, when she had been unhappy because Eramet was with someone else. Now Eramet was gone, and no doubt Sparrow would give a great deal to have that day back again. I took a lesson from it. I resolved to keep my heart open to those I loved, no matter what they did, even if they hurt me.