The Last Daughter of Hyphae

Chapter 6

Vasilka wrung her hands together.

"Don't," warned Zel. She reached for Vasilka's shoulder. Vasilka waved her away. 

Zel stepped back and glowered at Atta. 

Vasilka continued: "You will go with Ivet tomorrow and forage for onions." The look on her face made Atta's hands sweat. "You will go with her because Zel and Eser and the rest of our best fighters are needed tomorrow." Vasilka closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Atta's heart beat faster. She had never seen her grandmother look this tired. And frightened.

Vasilka exhaled. "There are mercenaries on their way to try and take our horses and people." Atta's eyes widened. "To bring them back to the Great City?" she shouted, but in an instant Zel leaped across the room, hooked Atta's throat with her arm and covered her mouth to prevent her from shouting any more. 

When Atta tried to move Zel pulled her backward and placed a knee in her spine.  

Atta raised her hands. Zel released her enough to stand on her own feet. 

"The new young Emperor has paid these mercenaries handsomely to travel around the lakes and through the forests to take as many people captive as he can. They're ripping through our river communities one by one."

"What do we do? What about the Spring Gathering?" Atta's limbs shook. She stopped her teeth from chattering. This wasn't just local village leaders posturing for kingship. It was bigger than she imagined.

"We have the advantage," said Zel, who released her arm from around Atta's neck and stood between her and Vasilka, still sitting by the fire. "We know there will be a small army on foot traveling through one of our narrow valleys at first light. We'll surprise them and take them out before they get close to our village."

And if they do . . . Atta imagined living the chaos her grandmother survived through all those years ago. Their beautiful herds. Their community. She pushed her chin out. "I will join you and fight."

"No!" boomed Vasilka. "You and Ivet will forage in the morning and Zel will snuff out this disctraction. Your job is to look after each other tomorrow"

Atta's chest fluttered. 

She felt pinpricks in her fingers. 

She stomped her foot. The fire flared.  

"I am a trained warrior! I am not as skilled as Eser but I can shoot! I can throw! I can make a difference!" Her voice cracked. Zel stepped in front of her and pressed her face close to Atta's until their noses nearly touched. "You are a liability," she hissed. "And do not follow us out there like you did last time or I will have to—"

"You won't," Vasilka sliced through Zel's threat. She straightened her back, bowed, and asked permission to make final preparations before walking out the door. 

Vasilka looked at Atta. "You are all I have left," she said softly. "And—I'm sure Ivet will agree—we know you have your mother's gifts." 

Atta opened her mouth to protest but Vasilka raised her hand.  Ivet remained still. 

"You are meant for something else, not battling your way through life like Zel, or even Eser. No." 

Atta opened her mouth and Vasilka raised her hand again, then peered at her soiled fingers. "The gods have told me so." 

The faraway look on Vasilka's face made Atta feel uneasy. 

"Go with Ivet to the mountains. And if it all goes wrong, if this battle is more than we can handle, I'll know you two were spared. 

And if that happens—go quickly in search of your brother, Virraj. He lives in the escarpment, with the Wellend people. Tell them who you are." 

*********

In the blue light before dawn, Atta padded softly toward Ivet's side of the their shared room where she slept against the warmest wall. She reached out and tapped her friend's shoulder.

Ivet's eyes fluttered open. She raised herself up onto her elbows and rubbed her eyes again. Atta nodded at the doorway. Ivet pulled a spare blanket over her shoulders and the two girls slipped outside, careful not to disturb Vasilka who slept in the chair by the fire.

"I'm not going foraging with you today. I'm going to help Zel," Atta whispered.

"Why?"

"I have to go with them."

Ivet rubbed her eyes again. "They made it pretty clear you shouldn't go."

"Maybe me being there could make a difference."

Ivet frowned. "Maybe being with me could make a difference."

"You don't think I should go, do you." Atta felt a flicker of anger. Of all people she should understand. 

"I just—" Ivet looked down, then up to meet Atta's intense gaze. "I just think your path isn't for fighting and battling and being a warrior queen. Strange things happen around you. You have bigger gifts, Atta. I don't know why you don't see it."

"Whatever 'gifts' I have aren't useful at all. I am not my mother!" Atta heard movement in the home; she spoke too loudly. She lowered her voice back down to a whisper. "I just wanted to say goodbye, and please be careful foraging."

Ivet pulled her blanket tighter around her shoulders. "Enjoy your battle," she said. "I hope you get what you want out of it." She turned, walked through the doorway and closed it behind her. 

*********

Atta followed far behind Zel's westward troop to avoid being noticed. She so desperately wanted to be among these prized warriors: women, men, and the bravest kids old enough to shoot arrows from the high in the cliffs—just where Atta would situate herself, too. And when it was all over she would reveal her presence. 

Zel would see that she belonged with them. 

From her distance, Atta watched the warriors on horseback turn and descend the limestone cliffs to the riverbed of The Big while the archers climbed high up the ridge. Atta climbed too, carefully stepping over roots and rocks to avoid tripping and revealing herself. 

She climbed up the cliffs as high as she could for as long as she could until she found just the right spot. Eventually she reached high enough vantage point to see the low riverbed below.  

She looked west and there they were: A small foreign army advancing on foot at a steady pace along the wide rocky shores of The Big that ran alongside the cliffs. They marched east, directly toward their village, just as her grandmother had said they would. Atta bent low, holding her curved bow with her left hand with a stash of arrows at her feet. And waited.

The battle cries came first before she saw them. Her village's mounted warriors rounded the bend in the riverbed at full gallop; their voices released a wrath so deep and visceral Atta's own vocal chords tensed up in tandem. But she held her scream inside her belly and remained low. She studied the enemy and observed where there were gaps in metal armour plates. 

The men stood in unison and braced for attack. 

Atta smiled and rubbed the archery ring on her thumb.  

They'll never see the poison arrows raining down on them from the cliffs. 

Her village's riders advanced with javelins up and swords in hand. Atta's heart pounded, but her hands were steady. Good. She exhaled slowly and calculated 20 gallops from impact; her cue to fire. 

She grasped three arrows, nocked one against her bow and counted...35...30...25...20...She pulled the arrows against her bow and fired in rapid succession. 

She watched them pierce into the flesh of the men far below.