Light, Glorious Light

Before the Pride

A murmuring crowd surrounded Pride Home's central building. Curious faces tinted orange in the light of dancing torch light. The night was cool in comparison to the clinging heat of the day. The reavers wore their abayas within the inner village in order to ward off cold instead of immodest eyes. Akiva and Maira were led through this crowd of appraising stares by Latisha and her hunting party, including Bria's whip of a daughter. Anya was missing from the group, a bad omen regardless of the reason. The child held back the curtain flap that acted as entrance to the lion's den, the home of The Lioness.

More reavers waited inside, but these tattooed warriors were the huntresses and their lieutenants. Each face that watched them belonged to a bloodthirsty killer and raider. Latisha led the pair into the center of the chamber. The ceiling was open to the sky allowing moonlight to pour down upon the room. Akiva could feel the dozens of reavers watching her, studying her, trying to decide what to make of the small woman from Phalanx who wore their symbol. Many would want to see her tattoo for themselves. The older women knew her and knew of her loyalty to The Mothers. They would be offended by her presumption. She could not be a reaver and a servant of The Mothers. In the waste there was no place for dual allegiances.

A dais sat against the eastern wall, upon it was a pair of thrones made of stone and wrapped in beast hides. Even shrouded in shadow Akiva could sense the weighted gazes of the women seated upon them. The smaller woman, naked as the day she was born save for a cape of bear fur, was Gertrude. She was the older sister of The Lioness, and was once known as The Waste Tiger. It was she who led the raid against Phalanx that had nearly breached the impenetrable walls. She had been a raider since before Akiva was born. Beside her in the larger of the two thrones sat the woman who'd slain all of her rivals and kept The Yellow Sun within her iron grip for two decades. On her head she wore a great bronze crown shaped like the sun. Across her shoulders she wore a cape made from the pelt of a massive lion, the creature's eyes replaced with two bright gems. Akiva knew these things not because she could see them in the dim light, but because she had been at Desdemona's feet before.

Akiva turned to warn Maira to watch what she said, but she stood alone in the circle of the moon's light. Latisha held May's chain and watched from the edge of the crowd. Akiva tried to meet Maira's eyes, tried to give her a look that would assure her friend they'd survive until morning, but she couldn't. May was too busy watching the crowd for danger and Akiva was too full of doubt.

"When the runners sent word that my little field mouse had reappeared, I did not believe. She'd sworn never to return, yes? She'd sworn to stay away unless she was summoned, yes?" The Lioness's voice was strong and rich. It carried throughout the chamber and into the night beyond. It was a voice made to command women consumed with bloodlust, it was the voice of The Yellow Sun. "Yet it is you that stands before me, Field Mouse, no?"

"Yes, Lioness, I have returned but I can ex-"

"The runners say that you have not only returned, but also brought ruin to something that is mine."

"I can explain that too, Lioness," Akiva said quickly. She'd known the garden would be waiting at the top of her climb, but she'd had every reason to believe the reavers would have moved on.

"Quiet, yes?" The Lioness raised her hand and the low whispers of the room died. "I do not care about these things. I've missed my field mouse, she has always made me laugh. What interests me is the other thing the runners say. They say the field mouse wears our mark. They say the field mouse claims to be a wildcat."

The Lioness leaned forward until her face was bathed in silvery light. Hers was the mold from which Latisha's was casted though older and fuller. A deep scar ran down her face from beneath the crown to her jawline. Her eyes were amber, behind them lurked madness and wisdom in equal measure.