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

Homecoming

It was Sparrow who told me my warrior had come home. She found me in the oak grove. Two months had passed since Maara left us, and most of our warriors had returned from the frontier. Soon only the winter weather would guard our borders. The gloomy day matched my mood. No one now expected Maara to return. The Lady had mentioned to me more than once that Vintel needed a companion. I hid, even from myself, how little hope I had of seeing my warrior again. When I heard Sparrow say, “She’s come back,” I felt as if the sun had come out from behind the clouds and brought the color back into the world.

Then I saw that Sparrow could hardly catch her breath, that she must have run all the way from Merin’s house. I thought she was just eager to bring me the good news. As soon as she could speak again, she said, “Come quickly, before they kill her.”

I left Sparrow, winded as she was, far behind. Even before I entered Merin’s house, I heard angry voices. Warriors filled the great hall. Some had drawn their swords, and for a moment I feared to see my warrior lying dead in their midst. Eramet stood facing them. Sword in hand, she blocked the narrow stairway that led upstairs. I pushed through the crowd.

“Where is she?” I shouted over the din.

“She’s with the Lady,” Eramet replied. She moved aside for me, but as I went past her, she caught my arm and said in a low voice close to my ear, “Tell the Lady I need her here.”

I ran on up the stairs and burst into the Lady’s chamber. Three faces turned toward me—Vintel’s, the Lady’s, and my warrior’s.

“Eramet needs you in the great hall,” I told the Lady.

The Lady turned to Vintel and said, “Stay with them,” before she left the room.

Maara’s sword was in Vintel’s hand. Her shield and armor lay beside her on the floor, along with the knife and hatchet she carried on her belt. As frightened as I was, I couldn’t help smiling at her. Her expression didn’t change. She looked defeated. She returned my gaze for a moment, then turned away, as if I meant nothing to her.

The Lady was gone no more than a minute or two. When she returned, she told Vintel to lock Maara in the armory.

“Why would we disarm her only to lock her in with the weaponry?” Vintel protested.

The Lady had little patience left, but she gave Vintel an explanation, although she owed no one an explanation for her actions.

“Where else should I keep her?” she said. “I want her here in this house. No other place is safe for her. The armory is as hard to break into as it is to break out of, and if anyone does break in, the woman will be able to defend herself.”

The armory was downstairs, between the kitchen and the great hall. The heavy door usually stood open, but it could be barred from either side, so that the armory could also serve either to confine someone or as a refuge of last resort. It was filled with wooden chests and wicker baskets containing weapons of all kinds—swords, hunting spears and battle spears, and bows, with arrows for small game and big game, and for war. With the door closed, it would be hot and airless and uncomfortably small. I would have wished for my warrior a better homecoming.

Vintel made a gesture to Maara to go ahead of her. When I started to follow them, the Lady touched my arm.

“Stay,” she said.

The Lady drew her chair up to the small fire burning on the hearth and sat down. She gazed into the flames and was quiet for so long that I thought she’d forgotten I was there.

I shuffled my feet a little, and she looked up.

“Sit down,” she said.

Hers was the only chair in the room, and I didn’t like to perch on the edge of her bed, so I sat down on the hearthstone.