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It was only a few days before Gweneth was well enough that she could ride. Calain, thankfully, had not cracked her skull and had only left her with a few bruises. Selene quietly hoped that Gweneth’s bruises would give her some pause and force her to reflect on her sharp tongue, but she knew she was hoping in vain.
Once Gweneth was well, the three knights mounted their steeds and took off into the forest on Calain’s heels. Calain wasn’t difficult to track. The red knight had left a very obvious path, so great was her haste, and had not even bothered to hide her old camp fires by filling the firepits. It was obvious to Selene that she had moved at a breakneck pace, so desperate was she to reach Zelda.
Selene secretly wondered if Calain hadn’t been right to fear for Zelda’s safety so greatly. She was the only one with a link to Zelda’s heart, so she was the only one who could truly feel if she was in danger. There could have been something happening to the sorceress, something dire, and Calain had known on an instinctive level but no one had listened to her. Selene felt guilty for that, but she also felt a little bitter, knowing she did not share a connection with Zelda and thus, could not know if she was ill or well.
It took a little more than a week to catch up with Calain. During that time, they were attacked by giant black wolves and came across a few Wilde Women lurking in the shadows, wearing black wolf helms above their piercing, slanted eyes. The women never spoke to them and never approached them, instead watching them with narrowed eyes from a distance, their hunting bows lowered.
“The clan of the Black Wolf,” said Cassandra quietly when they had passed yet another pair of tall women watching them solemnly from the trees.
“What do they know that we don’t?” said Gweneth, bobbing astride Bron. “They remind me of you, Cassandra. They seem to know something serious is going on, but they keep it to themselves. If we were to ask, they’d probably give us vague limericks about the moon.”
Cassandra smiled as she bobbed astride Sunny. “I don’t know any limericks.”
“More’s the pity,” sighed Gweneth, “I like limericks.”
“Be still!” snapped Selene. She held up her arm, a silent command for the others to a stop. They did, and all three of them peered at the village ahead.
It was a very large village, stretching away as far as the eye could see, a small city of thatched huts made of wood and mud, smoking gently in the evening sunlight. Torches had been lit along the streets and stone braziers had been filled with fire. Everywhere, tall Wilde Women in black bear furs were moving toward the center of the village. A soft roar of enthusiastic chattering was coming from the crowd, and a great deal of smoke was rising from a bonfire at the center of the village.
Selene dismounted, staring at the village. Beside her, Gweneth and Cassandra dismounted as well.
“What say you, Selene?” said Gweneth cheerfully. “Shall we burst into a village full of giant, cannibalistic warrior women?”
“The Wilde Women are not cannibals,” said Cassandra absently. She was staring into the village with her intense, serious gray eyes as she clutched Sunny’s reins.
Gweneth rolled her eyes. “I was jesting.”
“Well, stop,” Selene snapped. “Be serious for once, Gweneth, and be still!”
“I am serious,” Gweneth returned crossly. “Are we really going in there? Tis madness! There are only three of us and more than eight hundred strong of them! Probably more by the looks of them. You see all those crystals? Zelda could not cast in there. If Calain went in there alone, she is a fool.”
“If Calain went in there,” said Selene, “that’s where we’re going. Come.” And she marched forward without looking back. She heard the others following.
They had nearly reached the village when two Wilde Women came out to meet them. To Selene’s surprise, they kept their weapons sheathed and were smiling and seemed very amused by the sight of them.
“You friends of the bird knight?” said one in broken common tongue.
“She means Calain,” muttered Gweneth, amused.
“We are,” said Selene with a solemn nod.
The women exchanged amused glances. Then one muttered, “How many bird knights was First Hearth Wife fucking?” The other laughed loudly.
Selene’s eyes narrowed irritably. “May we enter?”
“You may,” said one of the women, surprising Selene.
“Head to center of village. You will find your bird friend there,” said the other.
The two Wilde Women stepped aside. Selene hesitated and walked past them uncertainly, leading Cassandra and Gweneth forward and leaving their horses on the edge of the forest.
As they walked in a close group, many Wilde Women stopped to stare at them. Small girls, who were running and laughing, hopped to a halt and pointed as they squealed, “Look, Mommy! More bird women!” in their language. The children flapped their arms and squawked like birds, dancing in mocking circles around them as they walked on.
“Falcons do not squawk,” muttered Gweneth bitterly.
The crowds of Wilde Women grew thicker the further in they walked. Many were simply ignoring Selene and the others now, only giving them a glance before turning their eager attention back to what was happening near the huge bonfire in the village square.
Selene pushed her way to the front of the crowd at last, and Cassandra and Gweneth emerged either side of her. The three of them stared grimly at the fight happening beside the blazing bonfire:
Calain was struggling in close combat against the biggest Wilde Woman Selene had ever seen. The Wilde Woman must’ve been over six feet tall, and her body, covered in leathers and bear furs, was bulging with muscles. Her neck alone looked thick enough to be a tree trunk. She had long, wild auburn hair and was wearing a horned circlet made of bone. In her meaty hands was a two-handed sword, huge and made of a gleaming black metal. She was lifting it above Calain and not for the first time: Calain was bloody and exhausted, though fighting valiantly.
“No!” screamed Zelda’s voice.
Selene’s head snapped around, following the sound of Zelda’s voice until she spied her at last. Zelda was standing on the edge of the crowd, opposite Selene, Gweneth, and Cassandra, and . . . she was large with child! She was trying to run in and stop the fighting, and two Wilde Women, slender and small, were holding her back with solemn faces, griping her arms to stop her escape. As Zelda struggled to get free, an elderly witch stood beside her, chin lifted, watching the fight through narrowed eyes as she clutched a wooden stave bound with feathers.
Selene hardly recognized Zelda. In place of her long traveling gown and gray cloak, she was wearing leathers and animal hides, while her mass of curly blonde hair was braided, matted, and dangling with beads and feathers. She was also streaked with mud. It stained her bare knees and her hands.
“Gods alive!” muttered Gweneth, who was also observing Zelda’s large belly and wild appearance.
The giant Wilde Woman lifted her sword further back with a grunt, as all around, the villagers chanted, “Crush her! Crush her! Crush her! Yrsa Bear Queen!”
Calain was on her knees, mouth dripping blood, waiting for the final killing blow.
“No! Don’t kill her, please!” Zelda screamed and finally managed to break free of her captors. She ran into the fight, golden curls streaming, and threw herself on Calain, who had been about to take a blow from Yrsa’s great sword. Instead, Yrsa staggered to stop herself, halted in surprise, and looked down at Zelda, sadness in her eyes. Zelda was hugging Calain’s neck and weeping as she shouted, “Stop fighting! Please! Stop fighting! I don’t wish either of you to be slain!”
The crowds booed and hissed.
“Crush her! Crush her!” the chant continued, but Yrsa did not lift her blade.
Panting, blood running in a line from her temple, Calain gently pushed Zelda aside and suddenly launched to her feet, bringing her sword down on Yrsa. Yrsa parried but too late and took a nasty cut to the face. She scowled and struck in retaliation, and Calain breathlessly parried, barely missing the blow. Their blades chinged above the continuous chant, “Crush her! Crush her! CRUSH HER!”
“No! Stop!” Zelda begged.
Calain, with sudden fever, was fighting hard and fast now. She was fighting so fast, Yrsa could barely keep up, and it was all she could do to block her blows. Before long, Yrsa had been disarmed and found herself on one knee, bleeding and panting, her head bowed as she waited for Calain’s killing blow.
The chanting stopped. The entire village had fallen silent as they watched, as they waited for their queen to be felled. Selene waited tensely for Calain to lift her blade and finally end it. Beside her, Cassandra and Gweneth were also waiting with bated breath.
Calain stood over Yrsa for a long time, blade in hand, just staring down at the Wilde Woman as she panted to catch her breath, strings of red hair wild in her eyes. Then she said very calmly, “Thank you for taking care of Zelda.” And with that, she took Zelda’s hand and turned away from Yrsa with her, sheathing her blade on her back as she walked away. She stopped again in surprise when she saw Selene, Gweneth, and Cassandra standing there.
“Took you long enough,” Calain said breathlessly. She nodded at the exit. “Let us make haste.”
“Carry Zelda,” said Selene. “We will move faster.”
Zelda protested feebly, but Calain ignored her, instead gathering her gently into her arms. Then they marched through the silent village and back to their horses as the Wilde Women stood there, lining the streets, mutely staring at them.