| Logs |
2013 May 17
| Neverneverwhere |
| Realms |
Retired
| Reality Fault |
General Info
 |
| Realms: Taps Logs |
Ballad of the Absent Mare
Suraksha is still brand new to the caravan, and very eager to be well thought of. She's glad everyone is fine with her being a tiger-shifter, and seem to be accepting her easily, but she still wants to feel she's pulling her weight. Thus she does her best to keep up with all Corbett's and Joan's messaging, as well as everyone else's -- being a supernatural means she's got more energy than a normal human, fortunately! In her spare time she offers to help Joe, Buddy, or anyone else who seems to need it, and when she's not busy, she carefully emulates Little Joe's behavior -- eating or sleeping only when he does, staying on foot when he too is walking next to the wagon train, and only riding on the wagons when it's absolutely necessary. The livestock are all working hard, after all, straining to haul all the wagons up the mountainside and through Donner Pass, then having to work their way carefully down the steeper other side to where the land opens out into the wild and beautiful, windswept Great Plains.
Consequently, by the time a month or so has passed and the caravan is just starting out on the well-beaten path into the Plains, people are thinking of Sura as one of their own. They've forgotten she's not as experienced as, say, Little Joe -- who admittedly isn't wildly experienced himself either -- and so there are things the older caravaneers don't think to tell Sura. Everyone knows to be careful to stay near the beaten path, after all, since they know the nomads are watching just over the rolling hills... and so no one thinks to tell Sura that by ancient compact with the nomad tribes, you're supposed to stay near the path -- because if it's away from the path then it belongs to the nomads!
When Sura hears one of the guards groggily complaining about coming down with a cold, she cheerfully offers to take that stint, so the guard can get a full night's sleep. She goes to sleep late anyway -- tigers like hunting at twilight -- so she figures she might as well guard the caravan at that time. She has no idea she's been spotted from a distance, so when she notices one of the horses has untied their lead and strayed, she simply lets her partner along the line know she's going to step out and bring in the horse. He's not worried -- he knows she can see well in the dark, and that she's a tiger shifter -- and so he nods, expecting she'll only be a moment or three.
Sura heads silently off into the night, following the horse's trail in the dew-wet grass. She doesn't want to shift into tiger shape, even though that would make for easier hunting, because it's more likely to spook the horse. The trail heads up over a hill, which Sura thinks is odd, but she follows... then sighs in relief as she sees the dark shape up ahead that has to be the horse. She calls softly to it, not wanting to spook it, and heads down at a slow, relaxed amble. She's a bit exasperated when the horse moves on a bit, but she follows -- it's not like the horse will go far, surely, since its herd is behind them. She swings wide, trying to work her way around the horse so she's at least encouraging it to walk away from her back towards the caravan.
There's a short bit of time where Sura thinks she's lost herself and the horse, and she's a bit worried -- but then she realizes she knows where the caravan is by the soft firelight glow from just past the hillside. After that she looks around carefully, sniffing the night air... and when she catches the warm scent of horse she makes sure to head in close enough that she can at least spot its dark bulk in the distance. She does her best to urge the horse in, but it seems to be possessed by a Trickster spirit that night. At a slow, peaceful walk the two of them dodge and dance around -- and without realizing it, Sura ends up a few low hillsides distant from the caravan by the time false dawn lights the sky.
The slight woman gives a sigh of relief as her vision improves with the increase in light -- there's the damn horse! Looks like he's caught his remaining lead in a fallen tree branch too, thank goodness. She's heading towards it, calling quietly to calm it, when its head suddenly goes up, ears pricked sharply as it stares towards her. At the same time she hears a drumming noise of galloping hooves behind her. She turns curiously -- just in time to see a horse galloping towards her, the rider swooping down with arm out to scoop her up! She gives a startled grunt as the air is nearly knocked out of her and she's swept up over the horse's withers.
Staring down at the ground whipping past below her, Sura can hear laughter and cheers as well as the sound of more than one galloping horse. She struggles to squirm free and throw herself from the horse, but strong arms wrap around her and sit her upright before the rider, then pin her securely about the waist. She can see a pale-skinned but well-tanned hand on the reins and about her waist, and the long sleeve is of... dyed cotton or linen or something? Lots of applique about the shirt's wrist, and it looks like a wide decorated metal bracelet on the actual wrist as well. Glancing back and forth, she sees she's in a group of riders, all galloping exuberantly and whooping together. They've got her horse too, and -- she swears suddenly -- she no longer knows what direction to head to return to the caravan, darnit!
Sura is taken to the Amazon camp, where she's lifted carefully down from the horse by her captor. She briefly considers fighting, then realizes there are an awful lot of bows around -- and even if she managed to swipe her horse and successfully escape, she doesn't know how to get back to the caravan. She remains polite and calm, listening uncomprehendingly to the excited chatter going on around her as she's led into the camp by her captor. The small woman is, however, a bit taken aback at how courteously she's being treated. Her captor, for example, is surprisingly polite, gently taking her hand to lead her and snapping at the others, waving them off when they press interestedly close. Sura carefully sidesteps attempts by the other tall, blonde or red-headed humans to touch her clothes or hair -- which is now in a dark, disheveled tumble down her back -- and wonders. All the stories she'd heard of the Great Plains nomads told of how brutal they were, swooping down on unsuspecting caravans and leaving everyone dead or captured. Admittedly, that happened rarely, but it only took a time or two to teach everyone to keep a very wary eye out, and to stay together while traveling!
Unbeknownst to most, the Amazons trade with the small farming communities around the edges of the plains, offering them protection in exchange for the trade goods. They are not mounted Mafia, however -- they take this compact very seriously. If they find one of the peaceful little farming communities has been raided, they hunt down the perpetrators and kill them all. This is the basis of the rumors about them -- since when everyone has been killed or captured there's no one to tell what caused the attack.
Studying the five or eight nomads around her, Sura realizes they must all be rather young -- the oldest of them can't be more than 20 in human years, while the one holding her hand is probably somewhere around 15 or 16. The little group excitedly heads into the still-awakening encampment, where dogs are yawning and stretching, older people and children are milking the herds of cattle and horses about the decorated round tents -- Sura's never seen a yurt before -- and the smell of smoke and animal is thick. People laugh and chatter together relaxedly, smiling as they watch Sura and the young warriors. The group stops in front of one particularly large and well decorated yurt, and a curious crowd gathers. Sura's captor releases her hand to step forward and knock on the wooden door frame. Sura realizes abruptly her captor is female as the young woman calls out proudly, then waits, turning to glance back with a delighted grin at Sura.
Just at that moment one of the young warriors -- a male by the soft fuzz of beginning mustache -- decides he wants to touch Sura, and grabs at her. The young woman barks an imperative at him, but he just growls at her and grabs again at Sura when she sidesteps him. Sura abruptly decides she's had enough -- and as the door flap opens and two older women step out, Sura does a swift, neat martial move, and the young man goes flying. There's a moment of stunned silence -- then the crowd erupts into delighted cries and applause, surging forward to nod approvingly and pat her lightly. The young woman looks first surprised -- then immensely smug, and she points dramatically at Sura as she says something triumphant to the two older women.
The young warrior woman announces she's found her Goddess-sent partner, to help her be the best Warlord possible when her turn to serve arrives. Sura's skill is, to the young warrior, yet another sign of her suitability. The current Warlord, the young warrior's mother, emerges from the yurt to hear this... then calmly remonstrates with her daughter, reminding the young warrior they are not like the kidnappers, murderers, and rapists who sometimes travel along the road and live outside the Goddess-protected and Amazon-guarded Great Plains.
Shortly thereafter Sura's seated cross-legged in front of the yurt on a thick, soft, beautifully patterned carpet, with her beaming captor standing nearby. Sura's started naming the people in her head: there's "Girl," her captor. The wrinkled, older woman who came out of the tent Sura thinks is "the Shaman," and Sura has labeled the middle-aged one "Maybe-Girl's-Mom-and-Possible-Chief." The young man who grabbed at her, Sura thinks of as "Girl's Little Brother" -- he's sulky but mollified when Girl laughs and gives him a rough hug and hair tousle after he was thrown. Little Brother looks about 14, slightly older than Sura's current 13 year old appearance. Everyone else is still part of the crowd to Sura, though; she's not yet given them mental names.
Sura's wary attention is on the Shaman, who is staring thoughtfully at her. Girl and her Mom are arguing together, with much handwaving and raised voices. Oddly, Sura gets the feeling this is how discussions are carried on, rather than there being any real animosity between them, because the crowd is getting involved too, calling out encouragement or groaning dramatically, or other expressions of agreement and disagreement. Finally Mom nods once, folding her arms and announcing something in a tone of finality.
The young warrior points out the Nightmane woman left her camp of her own accord, with a horse offering -- clearly another Goddess sign! The Warlord considers, then finally says if her impetuous daughter can persuade -- no forcing! -- her supposed partner-to-be to go through the rituals with Girl... then and only then will the Warlord consider it a sign also.
The crowd ooohs and stares wide-eyed between Sura and Girl, and Girl swells with pride -- although Sura can detect the faintest hint of youthful worry as well. Sura frowns; she doesn't like not knowing what exactly is going on. Scanning the chakras of all involved, however, just gains her the information that Girl is a younger version of Mom, who has a very strong Will-Heart-Throat-Third Eye glow... while Shaman's chakras lean more towards a very strong Throat-Third Eye-Crown. Shaman's eyes narrow with interest when Sura checks the chakras, and the young woman frowns a bit more.
At Mom's pronouncement, Shaman nods and heads into the yurt. Sura gets a funny feeling -- now is the time to stop any incipient trials, she hopes -- and tries each of the few languages she knows to see if she can communicate. Everyone's watching her with bright-eyed interest, but the only language they react to at all is travel cant -- one of the older men seems to know an old version of it. Sura struggles to communicate with him, but when she tries to explain that she was hunting for her horse and would like to return to her caravan, he beams and nods enthusiastically, gabbling to the very interested and pleased looking Girl, then addressing Sura. She's pretty sure she's not communicating effectively, though, since he keeps repeating "wiffing," "do ree," and "where laad" something, pointing between her and Girl.
Neither Sura nor the man speak the pidgin at all well, and it's not the clearest dialect in the first place. He is trying to tell her the Warlord's heir (where laad = warlord) wants to marry her (wiffing = wife-ing = what he thinks "to marry" is) and offers dowry (do ree = dowry) in response to her having brought a pony.
About then Shaman emerges, dressed like a shaman, and Sura gets a sinking feeling -- too late now. She takes a deep breath, then decides to run with her instincts on this. They've been very careful with her so far. She's going to try to stay calm and non-violent for as long as possible... in the hopes that they will also.
Shaman has an apprentice following her, carrying a bunch of things, while Shaman herself is carefully carrying a large basket and a small pot with a stick poking out of it. Before anything else gets started, though, Shaman carefully sets down her things, then performs a small ceremony around the rug. Mom and Girl are within the circle Shaman marks and dances, along with Sura, and the crowd sways and sings along, drumming and chanting with her. Incense is burned, sage is smudged around them, and Sura remains nervously, carefully still -- so far, so good. Then Shaman picks up the little pot again and gestures to Sura. The man who knows trade cant explains with gestures, and Sura realizes they want her to take her shirt off.
Sura glances at the crowd around her, then back at the people standing near her. There's a small flutter of nervousness in her stomach, but she's gotten herself very grounded by now, and she's pretty sure she's doing the right thing in remaining calm and polite. So, with a silent internal prayer that she's indeed correct... she smiles in faint rue, shakes her head, and says firmly, "No. I am not taking my shirt off." She knows the stories of the nomads have them only a step or two above brigands, and she should be expecting brutality, rape, torture, possible death... but that's not matching with what she's seeing here. Nevertheless, she has no intention of helping them think of her as a potentially rape-able sexual being, especially when she has no guarantees of protection.
Everyone goes still and wide-eyed, studying her. Sura watches them all back, sitting with her back straight and her hands folded in her lap. There are a few more attempts: the man explains more clearly, demonstrating by pulling off his shirt -- and Sura doggedly shakes her head no. Two people step forward to assist her -- and she snarls warningly at them, darting to her feet. They pause uncertainly, glancing at Mom first. She looks absolutely impassive, giving no hints on what to do.
The crowd is fascinated! Clearly Sura's obstreperousness is simply one of the Goddess-sent tests Girl must go through to court and win her lady. No one thinks ill of Sura for that, nor will anyone get in the way by trying to help Girl unless she specifically asks them to do so -- thus the travel-cant man's explanations and the two possible assistants.
The two look next to Girl and Shaman, who chuckles and murmurs something to Girl. Girl nods absently, studying Sura carefully -- then she grins. She waves off the two assistants, then steps forward towards Sura, her hands empty and palm up, and her tone soothing, like she's dealing with a spooky horse. Each time Sura tenses or crouches slightly, Girl stops, continuing to speak soothingly... and finally her patience convinces Sura that Girl means her no harm. She lets Girl reach out to take her hands very, very lightly -- Girl is actually just brushing her open palms under Sura's fingers rather than closing her hands around the smaller woman's wrists -- and lead her forward the step or two so they're both in the center of the carpet again. Then Girl slowly sits cross-legged before Sura, beckoning and patting the carpet to encourage Sura to be seated again.
Once the smaller woman is slowly, warily seated -- after making sure no one would be sneaking up behind her to enforce whatever it is they're trying to do -- Girl beams and gently pats Sura's knee. After that she unbuckles her wide, metal-embossed belt, setting it aside along with the bow case and sword which are fastened to it. Sura watches with warily narrowed eyes, and the crowd watches with rapt fascination. Then Girl reaches out for Sura's hands again, scootching forward enough that they're knee to knee. It takes a bit of dancing around with their hands -- Sura doesn't want to be pinioned through carelessness -- but eventually Sura realizes with some surprise that Girl wants Sura to reach forward and take the edges of Girl's shirt... and draw it off her!
Sura blinks, speaking aloud in her surprise, "You want me to take your shirt off?" She starts to very slowly do so, so Girl can stop her if she wishes, and Girl nods happily, touching lightly with her fingers to encourage Sura to continue. She wriggles out of the shirt, beaming at Sura, then starts to reach for the smaller woman -- but pauses as Sura looks a bit wary. Girl settles back and waves to Shaman, calling to her, and the older woman chuckles, then comes and kneels down next to Girl. As Shaman starts painting a colorful swirling design in multiple colors over Girl's skin, Girl tries with gestures to explain to Sura that she will get the same as soon as she takes her shirt off. Sura looks mulish, and everyone glances in silent fascination between Girl and Sura.
Girl studies Sura silently for a while, absently gnawing on her lower lip... then she brightens, pointing at Sura's necklace -- which has fallen out of her rough cotton tunic -- and sounding encouraged. Sura gives a quick, wary glance downward and realizes her Serpent Goddess pendant is showing. She swiftly tucks it away after a quick, reverent brush of her lips across it. When she looks up again everyone is smiling, and Girl reaches out with a finger to indicate Sura's shirt, repeats the gesture to remove the shirt -- then puts her palms together before her face, bowing slightly to Sura and saying a short word which to Sura reads like she's saying please.
Sura blinks... then sighs and relents. Her personal goal was to remain courteous. If the supposed barbarians are being yet more courteous than she... then the least she can do is follow their lead. When Girl slowly reaches forward again towards Sura's shirt, the smaller woman nods tersely once... and lets the other young woman carefully pull off her shirt. The last thing Sura sees before the shirt slips over her head is the look on Girl's face... she looks almost reverent, like some of Sura's younger clients who've never been with a woman before. Sura blinks, and as Shaman kneels next to her and starts painting, her golden eyes narrow thoughtfully. Could Girl have grabbed Sura because she wants Sura for her own? That would certainly explain why everyone's been so careful with her.
The crowd waits reverently for the next part of Sura's testing: will the Goddess's serpent servant (a Western Diamondback Rattler, though that is not the name the Amazons use) approve of the young woman as one of the Amazon leaders? Will the snake rattle at her in warning, or remain calm?
Once both young women are painted, Shaman takes Girl's hand. The two of them step to the edge of the carpet and there is some sort of ritualized chanting-and-reply going on. Sura rapidly loses interest, not being able to understand, and is a bit startled when the large lidded basket set at her side appears to rustle softly at her! She cautiously touches the lid as she catches the scent of snake, then subtly works the woven top loose so she can lift and nudge it slightly to the side. A blunt serpentine nose peeks out, tongue flickering. Sura smiles, offering her hand for the snake to taste/smell, and after a few more tongue flickers the serpent slithers forth and winds about her arm, then into her lap. It's not until the scale patterns and the rattles register that Sura realizes she's holding a big Diamondback Rattler. The snake is a real beauty, maybe 4' or 5' long, and Sura strokes the graceful coils with gentle fingers as she croons quietly. When the crowd ooohs softly Sura looks up and realizes everyone is watching her. Most of them look rather awed; Shaman and Mom look very thoughtful. Girl looks both awed and proud -- with a sort of 'told you so!' glance at the other two women.
The two leaders, Warlord and Shaman both, are impressed, and the crowd is amazed! None of them expected Sura to actually cuddle the Lady's messenger!
After the experience Suraksha would only be able to remember it in flashes: a small, round lodge with a nearby crackling fire heating big rocks. Singing and chanting from Shaman and the crowd. Girl reaching out and clasping hands with Sura, rising and leading her to stand before the little lodge. She removes her boots, gesturing for Sura to do the same. When the two women are standing barefoot and shirtless, Girl takes Sura's hand in hers again, her face alight with happiness as she holds up their clasped hands and faces the audience. Sura starting to worry -- is this some sort of wedding ceremony? She has a caravan to get back to!
Shaman standing before them, chanting softly and smudging them again, then sprinkling what seems like flower petals over them before she unexpectedly slashes a knife lightly over their clasped hands. Sura gives a small, shocked yell, yanking back; Girl holds on, her reassuring voice almost pleading as she wraps both hands gently around Sura's -- and to the smaller woman's shock, suddenly the words start making sense! Her tilted golden-green gaze goes wide as she stares up at Girl and Shaman. Girl is calmingly repeating, "It is just so you can understand us, Nightmane; we need to mingle blood. Do not worry, there will no more bloodshed -- but now you and I can talk, even if my people cannot understand you, and I cannot understand yours. We are the bridge over the chasm, you understand?" She looks relieved as Sura, eyes still wide, nods once -- then beams and leans to gently kiss Sura's fingers. After that she proudly gives her name and asks for Sura's, and Shaman runs a finger through their mingled blood. Shaman pauses, studying Sura thoughtfully... then draws long stripes across her cheeks. Girl gets swirling patterns inside triangles on her cheeks.
Stepping together into what turns out to be a sweat lodge: heat, moisture, odd scents, slight dizziness. Drumming, absolute darkness, singing and chanting, swaying, another body near her own -- Girl -- someone else at the door drumming -- sounds like Shaman. Shedding clothing, a large soft cloth in the complete darkness being run gently over Sura's sweating body to soak up the excess -- eventually figuring out she can return the favor to Girl. Emerging a bit dazedly into the light, Girl drawing her gently out, murmuring to her, "There are four stages, and each time we emerge we will show our tribe more of who and what we are for them, and what we will be. This is the first manifestation: how you are now." Shifting reflexively into Hetaera mental mode, Girl's supporting arm about her shoulders, hearing softly reverent murmurs from the waiting, rocking, chanting crowd. Girl offering her fresh water to drink, sharing the wide bowl, cool wet fingers stroking lightly over her hot forehead and brushing back her night-dark hair... then re-entering the sweat lodge.
More heat, more moisture, more intoxicatingly scented herbs. Questions and answers this time in the absolute darkness; Girl's voice is strong and sure, stating her lineage, her suitability to lead when her time comes, her confidence in those she gathers about her. Curling up and yawning, turning one long, lean, furred side towards the comfortable warmth. Panting heavily, hearing the soft exclamation, the hands running lightly and exploringly over her broad head. Purring as her ears are rubbed, the quiet laugh and the wiry rider's body leaning against her relaxed flank. Emerging into the startlingly bright sunlight, drawn out by Girl, who stands tall and proud next to the half-ton of gorgeously striped tiger. Hearing exclamations of awe, shock, some fear... growling softly, worried at all the stares, and Girl going to one knee next to her, arms about her neck as the young woman fearlessly leans her head against Sura's, murmuring quiet reassurance. Realizing Girl smells more like the fullness of Woman now -- stronger, taller, more assured, a few more scars on the arms as she holds out the wide bowl of cool water for Sura to lap thirstily, then drinking after the tiger. "This is how we will be in the near future, Nightmane." Returning to the comfortable, womb-like heat and darkness...
Starting to get into the swing of it, swaying and singing along wordlessly with Girl, her voice a low, happy, rumbling growl that segues slowly into softly sibilant song. This time Girl's chanting is more of what she brings to the sweat lodge: her courage, her devotion to family and Goddess, her personal strength, her growing wisdom -- and what she wishes to cast off: foolish short-sightedness, fear, uncertainty, ignorance. Stretching and unfolding, sighing with pleasure in the deliciously moist heat, leaning against Girl's sweaty body and laughing softly, feeling drunk on scents and tastes -- in the hot, moisture-weighted air the herbs are going straight into Sura's system and knocking her for a mental loop. Warm, dry tongue flickering lightly against the other woman's skin, tasting/smelling her... Girl's soft sigh of realization as her hands slide down her partner's slender body; blissing out sensually at the stroking palms...
Emerging with a slow, sinuous swaying behind Girl, smiling as she realizes Girl looks older now: thick silver hair and age's wrinkles, but with eyes still bright and fierce and beautiful. The crowd crying out in awe and reverence; Shaman looking wearily proud and Mom looking both startled and proud. The older woman version of Girl wraps an arm about the Naga, whispering softly to her, "You are truly beautiful inside and out, Nightmane. I knew when I saw you that you had my heart, Daughter of Serpents. You are the one I wish to lead with, to grow old for." Sharing cool water, laughing as she holds up the wide bowl and pours the last of it over them both, hot moist skin... slithering sinuously back into the sweat lodge for the last stage...
More heat, more moisture, more singing, feeling exalted, swaying in blissful emotional drunkenness... emerging finally as just herself, looking dazed as she leans groggily against the tired but proudly supportive Girl. Drinking cool water together, later Girl slowly rinsing them both off as she sings quietly; incredibly sensitive skin and senses, stretched out in almost decadent ecstasy. Rich taste/scent of cooking meat in the air, fresh clean clothes a song of pleasure against her skin, soft kiss brushing against her temple, Girl's supportive arm about her, always touching and gentle and close.
Settled next to Girl during the evening feast, sharing meat, broth, kumiss, and bread, listening to Girl's soft translations as Shaman explains for the tribe: tigers are territorial but do not mate for life; the same is true of the great serpents. Nightmane will not stay with the tribe, but like the forces of nature she will be a friend and ally, returning cyclically with the seasons. Girl's voice falters at that, and Sura impulsively hugs her, gently stroking her hair and whispering that it's true, she must leave on her travels -- but she'll be journeying through this area just about every year. Girl hugging her tightly, head bowed against Sura's... then smiling a bit shakily as she insists her lovely Nightmane must allow the tribe to travel with her while the smaller woman crosses through the tribe's lands. The night continues: leaping firelight and swaying dancers, laughter and sharing and affection, smiles and reverent acceptance from the people, gift-giving and singing and drumming and feasting and drinking, tangling together in the bed furs late that night...
Suraksha mounted up the next day on her runaway pony, now richly attired as the Amazons feel their new young Lady and her horse should be. Cantering along with Girl beside her on one side, Mom on the other, laughing with joy at the wind in her hair and the beautiful day, the tribe stretching out on both sides, whooping and calling back and forth, delighting in the sheer ecstasy of being alive... cresting the hill and seeing the caravan still circled for the night by the rutted road, with riders starting to head out to search for Sura for another day. They all freeze at sight of the tribe on the hilltop -- then whirl and start galloping back to the caravan, calling the alarm. Sura grins at Girl, asking her to tell the tribe to wait a moment, then nudges her pony down the hillside, calling and waving an arm, "It's all right! It's me, Suraksha -- don't worry, they're friendly!"
Corbett held the caravan back as long as he could, sending out volunteers to search for Sura. However, there was a small faction of folks in the caravan (those traveling along solely for the protection of numbers) who were strongly suggesting the girl was doubtless dead or worse by now at barbarian hands, so sending folks after her was just throwing their lives away -- and if the caravan didn't move on soon they would all be dead too! Poor Corbett was in a horrible bind -- he could hold the caravan in place a bit longer, but not forever... and he felt responsible for little Sura getting lost in the first place.
Sura realizes, at sight of the naked relief on Corbett's face, that she now truly is part of the caravan! Caravaneers gather around to listen and stare at the beautifully caparisoned woman-child, and to keep a wary eye on the nearby tribe. Joan glares suspiciously up the hillside at where the tribe peacefully waits. Corbett, however, is simply staring incredulously down at the tiny Suraksha as she happily chatters about befriending one of what he knows only as barbaric tribes that wander this area, looting and pillaging anything unfortunate enough to wander off the trail. "Girl, you're jes' full of s'prises!" Little does he know in less than a year he'll be staring at her just like this again -- when he discovers she's also a Hetaera...
Years pass; each time the caravan passes through the Great Plains they are accompanied for those two to four months by Girl's tribe, and she joyously greets her Nightmane. She matures over the many years; one year she proudly presents a young girl to Sura -- this is their daughter Hippolyta! Another year she gravely informs Sura she is the new leader, as her mother fell in battle earlier this year -- and that year Sura gently gives the new young Warlord a private space in Sura's arms, where the new young leader does not have to be the confident leader, and can mourn the loss of her beloved mother.
Several years after that Sura is the one grieving in private, in Girl's arms, at the loss of both Joan and Corbett -- because now she too must publicly be the confident leader. Shortly after that Girl sends their daughter Hippolyta and their daughter's lover and shield-sister Phillipa along with the caravan. Not only will this keep Girl's beloved Nightmane safer, but it will also give their shared daughter valuable experience in leadership and in dealing with the strange world outside their home on the Great Plains. That was five years ago, and Girl is still going strong as her tribe's leader. Both she and Sura know each other's actual names by now, of course... but in private, at night while traveling together, they enjoy using the pet names they came up with for each other some twenty years or so ago.
[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]