After the Daughters of the Glade had breakfast in the dining hall, they gathered in the large arena that was used for special announcements and entertainment. Before the War and the cities fell to ruin, Rowan was told that it used to be a great stadium for sports and that tens of thousands would fills its seats as they cheered for their favorite teams, with the contestants being beyond wealthy for their skills. As she looked around though she could hardly see how that was true. Much of it had crumbled away due to erosion and her tribeswomen could hardly fit into it now. Grass and trees had sprouted between the massive crevasses concealing most of its remains.
As her mother took her place in the center, Rowan followed suit, standing a few yards to her mother's left with her aunt and cousins to her right.
The Gladeswomen chattered, their voices echoing and bouncing off of the arena. But when Queen Lana raised her hand they fell silent almost immediately.
As the queen greeted them and broke the news the raven carried, Rowan took this time to study her fellow tribeswomen. They were one of the smallest kingdoms that was left in North America with only having a little more than five hundred women. But what they lacked in numbers they made up for with skill. Every woman before her was either a seasoned warrior or one in training, even the young girls who had yet to reach maturity.
Hundreds of heads filled with light hair were looking down at Rowan and her family, each listening intently to her mother's words. More than half of the Daughter's faces were filled with disdain as they learned that the Skabelse would soon take place and that the Glade was chosen along with the men of Rorik. Hundreds of women whispered amongst themselves but none dared to speak out against their queen.
Rowan had managed to block out the majority of her mother's announcement and only tuned back in when she heard her own name uttered.
"I know that it is not fair to us being that we were chosen not even a decade ago to send contenders but as your queen I ask for any Daughters that are of the age of seventeen or greater who receives their cycles to come forth. I have decided to send my daughter Rowan to be one of the tributes as well. That being said, I want to thank each and every one of you in advance for your sacrifice and I want you to know you will bring the Glade and your fellow Sisters honor even after you return," Queen Lana said.
With a few more kind words, she soon dismissed them and all of the Daughters that were able to volunteer as a contender stayed behind at the arena.
Looking around, Rowan was shocked at the amount of women left. There were a little over two hundred whose ages ranged between seventeen to late forties. Rowan recognized many of their faces when she spotted her cousin Darsa, and trotted over to her.
"Hello cousin," Darsa said with a great smile. She was slightly shorter then Rowan but they shared the same blue eyes than ran in the family. Her hair was much longer than Rowan's though and would reach almost to her knees if she did not wrap it up with golden twine whereas Rowan's reached her mid back when let loose. All of the women of the Glade kept their hair long and intricately styled. Cutting it was seen as weakness as the Daughters believe that much of their strength came from their hair that was kissed by the moon. Aside from their swords, their hair was their most prized possession.
"I can't believe that the time of the Skabelse is here once again. And now it is our turn to be tributes," Darsa said exasperatedly. Rowan's cousin hated men with a passion probably more than herself as Darsa was conceived forcefully. Rowan's aunt Nesa never spoke about it but most of the women knew. It was not uncommon for men to become familiar with a women without their consent during the Skabelse, though most parties would wait until both were willing.
"Tis a shame," Rowan said agreeing with her older cousin, nodding her head. They chatted for a few more moments before the choosing began.
Over the next few hours, queen Lana and a group of elders carefully looked through the women and selected fifty of them, including Rowan. She noticed that the majority were quite young and only a few were over the age of thirty-five. Some were already mothers as they had attended their tribes last Skabelse and the looks on their faces held happiness and pride which Rowan did not understand.
After the Daughters were selected, they were whisked away to start their preparation for the next morning. Rowan was quite disappointed that she wouldn't be able to participate in training today; her fingers ached for the familiar feeling her blade gave her.
The freshly picked contenders ate lunch and dinner together and in-between packed everything they would need for the months to come. She made sure to pack some extra food for the road and her expertly crafted blade for protection. As Rowan came across her dark wool undergarments she used for her cycle she scoffed as she realized she wouldn't be needing those after a few weeks.
With each clothing item she packed, she couldn't help but wonder who she would be partnered with and if they would treat her with respect. Would they tear her dresses off of her when she wore them for comfort? Would they laugh at her when she wore her trousers and leather armor when she arrived? She knew she would not be able to wear them after she was sporting a swollen belly, but she wanted them to realize that she was a strong warrior and not some dainty woman from the tribe of Deidra that neighbored them to the East.
Sighing after the last piece of clothing was packed, she made her way to her balcony and surveyed the kingdom below her.
There were no parties or loud music tonight.Instead, a calm quietness covered the Glade as the seriousness of the day's events still lingered.
As she thought about the Skabelse, she was filled with anxiety and grew weary, needing something to distract her.
"I'll be damned if I sit here," she muttered to herself, walking over to her pack and grabbed her blade. As she made her way through the castle, she passed many guards and fellow Sisters. Each brought their right fist to their heart and bowed, showing her respect for being a contender. She nodded at each woman and quickly headed to the training yard, keeping the need for conversation at bay.
On arrival, she was pleased to find the courtyard empty and well lit. Only a few torches were alight with fire, but the main source of light was provided by the full moon above. Rowan stood in the middle and took a deep breath, basking in its sacred rays before she began her footwork.
Over the next hour, she trained in solitude. Expertly slicing and dodging her invisible opponent's attacks. Her mother watched from afar, proud at how far Rowan had come. She was very talented in the art of swordplay and had led the training sessions for the past two years. She could faintly hear her daughter's grunts with each slice she made with her blade and smiled sadly to herself as she walked to her chambers.
On completion, Rowan wiped the sweat from her brow with the back of her hand and sheathed her sword, panting as she caught her breath.
Out of everything she owned, her blade was her most prized possession. It had taken many lives during the many battles the Glade had endured against the surrounding tribes of women. She had lost track of the times that others had come to take over their land, jealous of its fertile ground and proximity to the river.
Many assumed since its population was so low that it would be an easy victory. But with each win the Glade's reputation grew of their skilled warriors and it had been a few years since the last fight with a neighboring tribe. It was in that where she gained the infamous scar on her face, nearly taking out her eye.
"I better wash up," Rowan said to herself as she made her way to the bath house. She had her own private tub but every once in a while she would use the main bathing area to catch up on the latest gossip in the Glade. It was rather late at night and she assumed it wouldn't be crowded, so when walked up to the bath house and heard the chatter of women she was taken aback.
As she pulled back the curtains, large groups of women filled the immaculate pools. Many greeted her as she entered the room, warm smiles finding their way on the women's faces. The aroma of oil and soaps filled the air and Rowan inhaled deeply, enjoying the mixture of scents.
Stripping down, she peeled off her sweaty clothing and joined her fellow Sisters in the steaming water. It appeared that many of them were not bathing but instead talking about the raven's message and the following weeks to come. Rowan smiled to herself as she realized she should have known that the woman would come here to talk and gossip about it here, safe from the queen's ears.
It was Darsa who spotted her cousin across the pool and made her way to her beautiful princess. "Late training session?" she asked, raising a dark eyebrow.
Rowan nodded and started washing her body with the soaps and oils that were supplied in the hefty bottles that lined the baths. "I needed to clear my mind so I figured what better way," she answered with a smirk.
Another girl that knew the princess well had made her way over to the two girls as well, giving them a small wave.
"Hello Anadora," Rowan greeted. She had known Anadora for many years and had heard that she was one of the tributes selected.
"Hello Rowan, Darsa," Anadora greeted. She was nearly twenty two-years old and was one of the few Daughters that chose not to be a warrior. Instead, she had decided to become a teacher in the school. It was rare when a Daughter chose a path that was not focused on fighting and the art of war but they were always praised because the Glade needed women like Anadora to keep the kingdom running.
She blinked her dark eyes and ran a finger through her light hair, a strand of it getting caught on her ear. "My mother told me many things about the ways of men before I came here," she said referring to the bath house.
"Mine did as well though I already knew most of them," replied Darsa. "
Rowan pursed her lips thinking about what her close friend and cousin had said, "I'm sure there are many things we still do not know about the ways of men that both know and do not know. Only when meeting one would I be able to compare about what I've heard."
"Do you find it strange that the Glade is being chosen to send tributes so soon? It was not even a five years ago that we sent our Sisters. Surely the other tribes have produced enough offspring to please the High Kings and Queens," Rowan said as she cleaned her hair with vanilla scented soap. In the water it had darkened and looked gray as it swirled around her breasts.
"Aye, the last Skabelse was only a year ago and the men from Raef and women from Hilfjard had sent over one hundred tributes a piece," Darsa said as she began to bathe as well. "Why they need more men and women I do not understand."
Rowan contemplated her words. It didn't make sense to her and she believed that there was something going on amongst the High Kings and Queens that they didn't let on. The High Kings and Queens were located all throughout the world, a pair on each continent of whatever lands were left.
Rowan pushed those thoughts from her mind knowing she would never know the demand for an even greater population and focused on the women around her. Though many were scared and angry, she couldn't help but noticed the excitement that filled the bath house.
Scattered about, she picked up on conversations her Sisters were having about the men and many that had gone through pregnancy were showing their marks that were left on their abdomens. Rowan feared becoming pregnant, because with the frightening stories of men came equally petrifying stories about childbirth. She had heard how excruciating it was and that not everyone survived it. Many things could go wrong and even after all of the pain and hours of labor a woman wasn't even guaranteed to be able to keep her child.
She automatically brought her hand to her empty womb as more thoughts flooded her mind. She had seen the tributes that returned without their babes and how they mourned them for years and years after. Even though she had never pictured herself having children, she couldn't imagine the thought of what those women must have gone through.
"Come, let us get some sleep. We have a long journey ahead of us and we leave at dawn," Darsa said, exiting the tub. Rowan nodded and followed suit behind her cousin as Anadora stayed behind.
Rowan dried herself with the fine cotton and bid her cousin goodnight. As she climbed into her bed, she fell into a deep sleep that was plagued by nightmares.