The Skabelse

The Caravan

Rowan was awakened before the sun had even rose, leaving her groggy with sleep. At breakfast, she scarfed down a quick bowl of oats and fruit before heading back to her room to suit up in her armor. 

Her breastplate was finely crafted from steel and was lined on the outside with leather, giving her extra protection. Light chainmail clung tightly to her arms reaching down to her wrists, before ending in an intricate design. Underneath she wore hugging tights that were yale colored and a lighter blue tunic. It smelled greatly of leather and turpentine, bringing Rowan comfort as she tightened the last strap on her arm bracer.

As she looked herself over in the mirror she saw a skilled fighter awaiting action and looked lethal, ready to kill at a moments notice. "Good," she thought.

As she left the castle and walked through the main gates of the Glade to meet her fellow tributes, she was surprised yet satisfied to see her Sisters in their own armor as well, even Anadora.

Her mother and aunt stood in front of their tribeswomen whom were all mounted on their horse's backs. As the last few tributes mounted up, their queen said one last farewell. "Today you start a new journey in your lives. One that our ancestors has completed many a time. Some will come back with their new babes and some will not, but one thing is for certain: you will all come back as mothers. Being a mother is one of the greatest gifts a woman can receive even if you do not believe such things now. I want to thank each and every one of you once more for your sacrifice and know that you bring honor to us all. May the roads be safe and bring you good fortune," the queen said as she bowed down to them. All fifty tributes saluted her with their fists and returned her bow.

As the caravan moved out, Rowan guided her horse over to her mother and aunt and said goodbye quickly before she resumed her position next to her cousin Darsa.

The oldest of the tributes, Tursa, led the long line of women through the hills and forests of the Glade, eventually making their way into unmarked territory and at the end of the caravan a woman named Zoella drove the large wooden cart that carried the women's supplies that would be needed for the following months to come.

For Tursa, this would be her third Skabelse and she was not in the slightest bit worried. She had quickly became accustomed to the ways of the male gender and knew that most of the stories was just talk and had even grown to look forward to the sacred tradition. Each time she had produced a boy and knowing that this would probably be her last Skabelse considering her age, she wished for a girl.

The trip to the campground would take one full week on horseback if they moved quickly. It was being held in the Venetian Forrest since that was the equal distance to the men of Rorik, and the High Kings and Queens wished to be fair, not wanting one to travel more than the other.

All around the tributes chattered which slightly annoyed Rowan for she was behind on sleep and wished to nap. She tied the reins to her saddle horn and leaned forwards as best as she could and rested her eyes. Eventually she fell asleep, and it wasn't until lunch time her cousin Darsa shook her awake, "Rowan wake up, we are stopping to eat." The princess groaned and rubbed the back of her neck, wincing. It ached from the wrong position she had fallen asleep in.

Slipping off of her horse and tying it to one of the many trees that surrounded them, Rowan pulled out a few strips of jerky from her pack and joined some of her friends by a small fire they had made.

They joked and laughed with each other and even had a few scrimmage matches with their blades until Tursa announced it was time to go. The girls complained but did as they were told and were off once again to the Venetian Forrest.

Rowan felt slightly refreshed so decided to partake in her friend's conversations. Pruella, a girl who had a twin sister at home and loved to play pranks spoke up, "I just hope that whoever I am paired with has the decency to bathe before we become familiar with one another."

Rowan couldn't help but to bust out in laughter along with the many others who were listening. "How awful would that be if a man came at you smelling like perspiration and a horse's backside!" Darsa exclaimed, causing them to laugh even harder.

It was then that one of the older ladies who had a babe before from the last Skabelse chimed in, "I will say that many of them do indeed bathe before coming to know a women but not all of them. I was lucky enough for my child's father to wash additionally in his Southern region though I had to ask him thrice."  The girls faked gagged and the others giggled at her forwardness.

Then Drekka, a girl who was in her late twenties and always spoke her mind, asked her a question that turned Rowan's face a bright red, "Excuse me but when does the males part look like down there?"

Anadora shrieked at her ghastly question and the woman's eyebrows raised. Rowan couldn't believe she heard the words leave Drekka's mouth even though many were thinking the same question.

The Daugthers were thought in school that the male's reproductive organs were needed to foster a child and how it appeared generally, but was never actually shown. No pictures or diagram's were ever displayed to the young ladies in the Glade for it would be in appropriate.

"Well in normal circumstances I would not speak of such things, but considering we are all tributes and are on our way to a group of men I suppose it isn't so unbecoming of me," she started.

Tursa listened in close with amusement, she couldn't wait to hear this.

"The only thing I can compare it to would be a naked snake I suppose. They are quite ugly and you can never get used to it, especially the gonads," she said, cringing at the last part. 

A wave of nausea washed over Rowan and the girl in front of her even fainted! Luckily the tribeswoman closest to her noticed and brought her to, waving a hand over her face and sitting her back up in her saddle.

All at once the tributes that had not known a man started yelling, half with intimate questions of their own and half with disgust at what they just heard. Tursa held back laughter at the sight and decided she would try to help calm the girls. The poor things were about to have a heart attack. She stopped her horse and the caravan and turned around in the saddle, "My fellow Sisters please listen! I know that you all have questions, as did I when I made my way to my first Skabelse. But if you wish to ask a personal question please do it in discretion. There is nothing to be afraid of when it comes to the male gender's extremities and we probably look as bizarre to them as they to us. Now let's move along, we only have a few hours until nightfall."

As the caravan stared moving again, Rowan looked to her cousin and pretended to vomit earning a few laughs from her friends.

Just as Tursa said, darkness soon fell and the Daughters of the Glade had to make camp for the night. Rowan slipped off her horse and grabbed her bed roll and laid it in between Dursa and Anadora. Over the next hour, all fifty women ate dinner and spoke in hushed tones to not alert any dangers of their presence whether it being animals or bandits.

After dinner the Daughters quickly fell asleep from a hard day's ride and many shared a dreamless sleep.

The next morning, as the tribeswomen got ready for their day, the men of Rorik had arrived in the Venetian Forrest. To say they were excited to meet the Daughters of the Glade would be an understatement for they had heard of their unremarkable beauty.

Their leader of the group, Falkstan, had wanted to arrived at the encampment a few days early to set up the sleeping quarters for the Skalbelse. This would be his third one and he absolutely loved it. Out of all the ones he had attended, it was this one that he looked forward to the most. He desperately wanted to plant his seed in one of the daunting yet eye catching women of the Glade. Though he had heard of one Daughter in particular, he knew she was set aside specifically for the king's son, Bjorn.

For the next three days the men hoisted the immaculate tents that would become homes for the next ten months. On the fifth day they had finished their work and celebrated around the fire, for tomorrow their women would arrive.