Daughters of the Night

Chapter 6

I dreamt of an army of women warriors, but none of us talked about the idea again. In the morning, our stomachs grumbled from hunger, and reality set in. We needed food.

I walked over to an older woman of 70 years sitting by the fire. In her hands was a make-shift bowl crafted from the green vines that hung and curled from our protective boulder. She lined the bowl with a piece of leather clothing to prevent leakage. Inside the bowl was snow slowly melting from the heat.

I nodded to her creation, "That's very clever."

Her eyes didn't move from the bowl when she replied, "For now."

She was right. I looked around at all the women still sleeping from the long journey. Soon, we would need to go out again, and that would require full hydration. Snow would have to suffice for now, but it would be better to carry it in from the river. Another item on my list.

I brought my attention back to the old woman. "Today, I was hoping to figure out a plan for food." I awaited her response.

She scoffed. "Why have you come to me?" Her light eyebrows - or rather, eyebrow - crinkled together like a caterpillar arching its back. 

"Maia pointed me in your direction. She said you have experience with the mountains. I've hunted many times before, but the conditions out here are harsher. I'm afraid there's nothing." Even if there were plenty of animals to hunt, I didn't have my bow and arrow. We had the clothes on our backs and my sword. That was it. I cursed the Elders again. 

The old woman took a minute to respond like she was hoarding secrets and didn't know which ones to give away. "My husband hikes through these mountains every year. He's probably the only one to do so. Says it makes him feel closer to the High One." She paused and shook the icy water in the bowl. "I went with him once. We set up camp near a river and fished."

Fish. Next month would be Spring, which meant the snow would be melting soon. The rivers would rise. We needed to make nets and set traps, but I was no expert at fishing. Juriah and I lived near a stream adequate for hydration but not for fishing. "How did you catch them?"

She snapped at me, "I don't know. Go ask the other women."

I absorbed her harshness like a blow to the face, and let it settle gently. The old woman looked sad – the kind of sadness that seeps through you even when you do your best to keep it contained. When she spoke of her husband, there was no hint of malice. I wondered if she regretted following me here.

"Did you love him? Your husband?" My voice was apprehensive. I wasn't quite sure why I was asking when she was so clearly upset. 

Her eyes softened at my words. "It wasn't love. Loving is a choice. And there was never a choice with him."

"But he was kind to you?"

She thought for a moment. "Yes, he was kind." The words were tense and mirrored her body language. 

I watched the snow in her bowl melt, seep through the leather bindings, and drip onto the stone floor. So much work for just a sip of water. 

I sat there confused by her words, and she knew it. She let out a long sigh before asking, "What is it, child?"

"If he was kind, then why did you rebel?" I was firm in my questioning. Many thoughts tumbled around my head last night – the most pressing ones surrounding the women and their stories I didn't understand yet. 

"My husband Markos paid for me with 5 loaves of bread. Five. My father couldn't wait to get rid of me at the Pool. He was very unkind and left many bruises on my skin. After Markos and I were married, my husband tended to the wounds and made sure I was eating. He didn't touch me until I gave him my consent. That was the biggest gift of all." She took a sip from the bowl and offered me some. The water felt like heaven on my dry lips.

She continued, "Many would say that I was lucky. And I was. But listen to this Rhea – " The old woman grabbed my arm. " – it is dangerous to accept a reality that is still far from the one you deserve. His small kindnesses didn't lessen the fact that he paid for me with bread. That he whipped our son when he misbehaved. Or that he sent our daughter into the Pool and accepted cattle for her hand."

The old woman shook her head with shame and anger. "I swallowed all of that down because at least he was kind to me compared to how the other men treated their wives. I was a fool. I accepted our village's traditions as normal, but they were not. And when my youngest granddaughter was sent to the Pool and promised to that vile man Ezra, I lost it. I threw a stone at Elder Tuiren and spat in his son's face."

An image of Ezra lying in a pool of his own blood flashed in my mind. "I killed your granddaughter's fiancé." I already knew she witnessed it, but saying the words aloud made me feel better. Like I was confessing to a crime. 

"Yes, you did." She smiled faintly. 

There was a weight to death, and it rested heavily on my shoulders. Even with the old woman's approval, I still felt shame. I shook off thoughts of Ezra. 

"How did you know the traditions weren't normal? Especially if that's the only world you've ever experienced."  When I asked Juriah about the women, there was often judgement laced in my voice. Why did they not just leave, I thought? But Juriah told me that it was more complicated. And maybe one day when I was older, I could ask them. This was my chance.

The old woman thought for a long time. "For me, it was more of a gut feeling. Something was wrong with the way we were being treated. For some women, they read about a different life. These books would be passed around in secret. And then there were rumors about the families that disappeared in Aegaeon." The old women bent over to retrieve more firewood.

"What kind of rumors?" Juriah told me the families that disappeared were killed by King Elias...

The old woman snapped. "Child, you're asking too many questions. Use that energy to catch some fish. I'm hungry."

I learned that the old woman's name was Lana. I was determined to return and ask her more questions despite her harshness. 

Maia and I asked the women about different methods of fishing while Alasia went out to check how deep and wide the rivers were. We decided that spear fishing would be our best bet. We had no materials to build traps and no time to waste.

I found a tall, straight sapling in the woods. It was round enough to fit comfortably in my hands. With my blade, I cut down the middle of the sapling until I reached the length of my forearm. Then I rotated it and cut down the middle again. I split up the four smaller pieces of wood with wooden spacers and sharpened each piece. I used a leather strip from my clothing to secure my creation and was content with its design.

Not all the women went out to fish. Lana, a couple of the pregnant women, and a younger girl with a high fever stayed behind to rest. 

I focused on the river. My boots rested up on the bank so I could come back to warm shoes. My thick pants were rolled up my knees and I cringed at my bruised legs. Where the bruises came from was a mystery to me, but they always seemed to linger. 

The river was cold, but we anticipated that. But what we didn't anticipate were the plethora of fish swimming down the bend. We laughed when we saw them – no longer afraid of starvation. In fact, the women would be eating more than they had in years.

It was a waiting game most of the day. But by the end of it, we secured twelve fish. Granted some were very small, and their fine bones a pain to deal with, but they would provide much needed substance.  

We ate in silence. Oil dribbled down our chins. The light of the fire bounced off the walls and for a second, I forgot that it was cold. 

I closed my eyes and mentally released the breath I'd been holding. We would be okay here. At least for a little while.