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Gweneth was so happy to be in her homeland that it took her quite a while to notice that something strange was going on. On their third day in Sirione, she was splashing her face with water from her skin when she noticed Zelda and Cassandra trying very awkwardly not to look at each other while Aereth observed them very intently across the firepit. These incidents continued – over meals, as they were walking or riding, at night as they prepared to sleep. Gweneth thought of poking the beehive, of dropping a few jokes and seeing how Zelda and Cassandra reacted, but not wishing to stir up any drama and sour everyone’s light mood, she decided not to bother. It was a shame because she relished the thought of mocking and humiliating Zelda and Cassandra for whatever it was, but she had other things to focus on – like avoiding her family’s caravan.
As it turned out, Gweneth didn’t have to poke and prod to find out what was going on because Aereth told her directly. It was the end of another day and the sun was setting beyond the trees as Gweneth, Selene, and Cassandra hunted for firewood in the nearby underbrush, while Calain dug a firepit, and Zelda used telekinesis to move a few boulders and heavy logs into place for seats.
Aereth had, as always, decided to follow Gweneth and help her collect sticks. Gweneth was bending to pick up a nice dry stick when Aereth blurted out, “Auntie Gwen? Will you tell me about sex?”
Gweneth nearly dropped the sticks she was already carrying. She straightened up, adding the new stick to her bundle, and looking in surprise down at Aereth’s serious, unabashed face. But she had to ask herself why she was surprised: in just three more days, Aereth now looked like a fourteen-year-old girl. She was nearly as tall as Gweneth—who was just under six feet—and was now a head taller than Zelda, and she had small breasts and wider hips and was taking on a woman’s shape. Her body was also more defined with muscle from their daily training sessions, but she hadn’t started bleeding yet, something which seemed to relieve Zelda greatly. Aereth had grown so much that there was one night when Selene and Cassandra had sat up for hours altering the girl’s clothes because she was outgrowing them – again.
“Tell you about . . .” repeated Gweneth because she felt too awkward to speak. She was the main one constantly reminding Zelda that a Wilde Woman babe becoming a woman almost overnight was completely normal, but she was finding it harder and harder to digest. Just days before, Aereth had been a sweet little girl swinging from her biceps and giggling. Now she was a serious young woman, standing with her arms behind her back and regarding Gweneth intently. She had tamed her long auburn hair back into a single plait in imitation of Selene.
“Sex,” Aereth prompted when Gweneth’s voice nervously trailed off. She had asked the original question without shame, but her cheeks flamed a little as she said, “I saw Mother and Cassandra . . . having sex a few nights ago.”
Gweneth laughed. Ah. So that’s what all the squirming was about! She went back to looking for sticks, wading through the bushes and flowers. Aereth followed closely.
“You saw them going at it,” said Gweneth in amusement, “and now you want to know what it’s like?”
“I can find that out on my own,” said Aereth with a laugh, and Gweneth laughed as well. “What I want to know is, can I make another woman with child?”
Not wanting to hurt Aereth’s feelings, Gweneth kept her face neutral as she straightened up, adding another stick to her bundle. “Not without the help of a powerful sorceress,” she said. “You were right before, you know. You were conceived with a magick potion, but it was brewed by someone with a lot of ancient wisdom. You cannot make a woman with child by fingering her, Aereth.”
Aereth looked a little embarrassed but also relieved.
Gweneth bent for another stick, pretending not to notice. “Why not ask thy mother this?”
“Because she is too embarrassed after what I saw,” said Aereth with a laugh.
“Aye. I suppose she would be.”
“And you’re the only adult who. . . who listens to me,” Aereth went on. “The others think I’m a babe still. They don’t answer my questions. They pat me on the head and send me on.”
“Don’t take it too personally. They’re just afraid. Most children grow at such a slow pace. It was just what? A month ago? That you were a babe in swaddling!”
“But I’m not anymore, can’t they see that?” cried Aereth impatiently.
Gweneth moved off, looking for more firewood, and Aereth quickly followed, tripping slightly over a bush as she hurried to catch up.
“Auntie Gwen,” said Aereth breathlessly, “I want your help finding . . . I want to find a woman!”
Gweneth halted in surprise and faced Aereth, who blushed brightly as she confessed, “Queen Anindel told me I would want to touch a woman one day. I told her I would not, b-but now I’m realizing she was right. I want to kiss another girl!” She glanced down and added sheepishly, “I think of it all the t-time.”
Gweneth didn’t answer right away. This was more difficult than she had ever imagined, and if she was honest with herself, she had never imagined it! Despite how quickly Aereth was growing, she had told herself that Aereth would always be that giggling little girl who followed her about.
When Gweneth looked up again, it was to find Aereth looking at her hopefully. Gweneth turned and picked up another stick, sighing as she said, “I was trying to avoid the caravans. I didn’t want to run into my family or anyone I know. . . But I can see this is important to you, so I shall lead us on their trail. I know the path they’d take this time of year.”
Aereth brightened. “Oh, thank you, Auntie Gwen!” she cried, leaping on Gweneth and hugging her. Gweneth dropped her bundle of sticks as she fumbled to catch the girl, and as Aereth kissed her cheek, she laughed, suddenly reminded of Zelda.
And so, the next day, Gweneth took them along the trail that would eventually lead them to one of the caravans. She knew what path the caravans would take this time of year because their pattern of movement was dependent on the sheep and what food grew where.
Aereth, now tall and bulging with her first lean muscles, rode the sturdy brown horse, Lucky, on her own, while Zelda sat once more before Calain on Arthur’s saddle. They had taught Aereth to ride and she had taken to it quickly and effortlessly – as she seemed to take to everything. Gweneth was starting to understand why Wilde Women had gotten away with taking over so many forests. They were just too strong and multiplied too quickly for the crown to bother trying to control them.
It was midday when they finally came across a caravan. The long line of covered wagons moved slowly through the giant, moss-covered trees, surrounded by herds of baaing white sheep and running children who laughed in the sunlight, four hundred people all moving at their leisure in a crowd. Gweneth could see dogs, robed shepherds with staffs, heads wrapped in scarves. On the back of one tall wagon, a woman sat on a chair, singing and strumming a lute. The people were wearing colorful, patched clothing, beaded shawls and sandals, and many of the women wore thick gold bracelets and gold loops in their ears.
The caravanners were also covered in tribal tattoos. The women had swirling tattoos on their cheeks and hands, as did the men, and almost everyone was sporting an undercut, either a full one or a half one, while the rest of her their long hair was tangled with beads. Gweneth was relieved, knowing she could ask one of them to trim the back of her undercut for her, as Calain was rather bad at it and it had been growing out from neglect.
“I thought we were avoiding the caravans, Gwen,” said Calain, who was riding Arthur with Zelda just behind her. “But you have led us right to one.”
“I thought Aereth should actually see other people before we shut ourselves away in Edhen,” answered Gweneth with a shrug. “There is no one there, you understand? No one can get inside Edhen but for the dragon, and those who do make it inside are never seen again.”
“Do you suppose she eats them?” wondered Aereth aloud. She was riding Lucky beside Gweneth and looked almost gleeful at the prospect of the dragon eating people.
Gweneth frowned. “No, child. The Dragon of Edhen is gentle and good – so good. Right, Zelda?” She glanced back and laughed when Zelda blushed a little and Calain glared past Zelda’s hair at her.
But if Gweneth was honest with herself, as much as she hoped Arryn was the Dragon of Edhen, she was not happy about the fact that Arryn had slept with Zelda any more than Calain was, she was just less likely to be open in her displeasure about it. None of the knights were happy. Gweneth could tell that even Selene did not approve, though she pretended to be uncertain and willing to give Arryn a chance.
Arryn had trespassed by taking Zelda to her bed. She was not a part of their group, and Zelda was not her lady. She had not sworn herself in Zelda’s service, and if she had, Zelda hadn’t broken the news to any of them. Would they arrive in Edhen to discover Arryn would be joining them permanently? Gweneth had the feeling that if such a thing was announced, she and the other Knights of Falcon would draw blades, and the end result would not be pretty.
The caravanners were jovial and carefree and didn’t seem disturbed by the appearance of strangers behind them on the road. They welcomed Gweneth and the others eagerly, offering food and water, and Gweneth knew why: the caravanners of Sirione Forest were, as a rule, under the protection of the Dragon Clan. Every now and then, they would send one of their young virgin maidens to become the hearth wife of some large warrior woman, and in return, the Dragon Clan protected them from strangers, intruders, and trolls.
Not that there were many strangers and intruders in Ellormest. No one ever came to Ellormest because many people were superstitious and believed the place cursed. Ellormest was – according to legend—the place where the Tula-Dan met their downfall and perished of a mysterious illness. Many believed they had caught a disease from having established trade with humans, and that was the end of the Tula-Dan and beginning of the Ellomir, the modern elves, who were smaller and shorter lived.
“Alva!” shouted a man, and Gweneth groaned, for she recognized the old man. His name was Tyr, and he was an old friend of her father’s. He was sitting on the back of a covered wagon and waved at her as she passed on horseback. Gweneth awkwardly waved back, wishing he would stop drawing attention to her, but it was too late. The caravanners were starting to notice her. Heads were sticking out of wagon windows and voices were shouting her name.
“That man called you Alva,” said Aereth when they had ridden on.
“Yes,” sighed Gweneth, “because Alva was my name . . . When I lived in this caravan.”
Aereth blinked. “But why change it?”
“Because it’s a nomad’s name,” answered Gweneth. “A foreigner’s name. I wanted to belong when I went to Eriallon, so I took an Erialloni name.”
“But what’s the matter?” asked Aereth, noting Gweneth’s weariness.
“I said I’d bring you a caravan, but I didn’t mean mine,” said Gweneth with a helpless laugh. “I had thought never to see my family again, and I was fine with that.”
Aereth frowned. “But why? I thought you loved your family! You told me so many stories about them!”
Gweneth didn’t answer. It had finally happened: her parents had heard she was here and were rushing to her. She saw them pushing through the sheep. Her mother had gray hair now, as did her father. Her mother’s hair was long, thick, and loose, but her father had a silver undercut tied in a topknot atop his head. Both were covered in swirling tattoos and wearing colorful shawls. Her father was moving very slowly on a cane while her mother impatiently hurried him along.
Gweneth pulled Bron to a stop and dismounted. The others followed suit, and they stood in a little group, watching Gweneth’s parents approach through the cloud of white sheep.
Kare, Gweneth’s mother, nearly pounced her. She shrieked with laughter and pulled Gweneth – who was much taller than her now – down in a tight hug. “Oh! Alva!” she cried. “My youngest baby – my babe has come home!”
“So you’re the youngest,” said Selene, lips curled in a little smile. “That makes so much sense.”
Gweneth rolled her eyes at Selene’s words, but she didn’t have a chance to shoot off a retort because her father hugged her next, and soon, both were crowding her. When her parents were satisfied they had smothered her enough, they stood back and looked at her, beaming, and Gweneth saw her own dark blue eyes in her mother’s kind face. Then their eyes traveled over the others. Kare looked happy to see everyone, but Gweneth’s father, Sune, glowered when he saw Calain. Calain smiled sarcastically at the old man.
“I see you still keep the same company,” said Sune, glowering so hard at Calain that loose wrinkly skin slid down in his eyes.
Calain seemed amused by the old man’s hatred of her and kept smiling.
“Oh, Father,” said Gweneth dismissively. “Calain is a good woman and a true sister in arms. She was a child when you first did meet her. Do give her a chance.”
“Humph!” was all Sune said in reply to that. But his eyes moved over Cassandra and Selene, and he nodded in approval. “These two were well-behaved, that I recall. But elven children usually are. They’ve got strong elf blood; I could always tell . . . And who is this?” He smiled warmly at Zelda.
Gweneth took Zelda’s arm and gently guided her forward. “Father, tis my lady, the sorceress Zelda. And this is her babe, Aereth. I am pledged to both.”
Zelda seemed pleased and surprised by Gweneth’s polite introduction of her, and Gweneth wondered if she had expected her to make some harsh joke about her promiscuity or the slaying of the queen of Eriallon. She couldn’t blame Zelda for thinking that after all the taunting she’d done in the past.
Zelda spread her skirts and politely lowered herself in a curtsy to Gweneth’s parents. Gweneth thought her parents were in love. They stared at Zelda dotingly, and then they crowded Aereth, who – in their minds – was the closest thing to a grandchild they would ever get from Gweneth. They marveled at how strong and tall the girl was, but when Kare pinched Aereth’s cheek and told her she was a pretty girl, Aereth squirmed free and said with confidence, “I do not wish to be pretty! I wish to be strong!”
Sune happily clicked his tongue. “Smart girl!”
“Where are my sisters?” asked Gweneth, glancing past her parents. She didn’t expect many of them to still be there. It was common for people to move between caravans due to marriage or friendship, but none of her sisters were standing behind her parents. For some reason, there was a young red-haired girl hovering behind Kare and Sune and clutching a lamb under her arm. She looked very nervous, and Gweneth was annoyed by her – she wanted the girl to move so she could look for her sisters.
“Let’s see,” answered Kare happily. “You already know Gull, Runa, and Selby married into other caravans – Runa took up the herbalist trade from me, isn’t that wonderful? I had hoped you would, Alva – Not that I want to start another argument, but—”
“Selby is making bizarre clay pots or some shite,” said Sune, shaking his head. “She was so good with a bow! What a waste!”
Gweneth laughed. Her father had never approved of Selby’s random, weird undertakings. The last time she’d visited, Selby had been doing something strange with beads.
“Gull married a nice boy,” went on Kare happily, “though he does seem a bit slow. Walks into trees, puts his pants on backwards, but he loves her and is kind. You remember him? I think he was here when you visited.”
“Gull’s mad husband?” said Gweneth. “Who could forget?” She heard Zelda laugh and had nearly forgotten the others were there, listening attentively to their happy banter.
“What about Bren?” spoke up Calain. She grinned. “I remember Bren!”
Sune glared at Calain as if he would burn a hole through her with his stare, and Gweneth held back a laugh: Bren was Gweneth’s big-breasted sister, very pretty, and had been caught kissing Calain by Sune, who had nearly taken Calain’s head off over it. Calain was now deliberately provoking the old man, and though Gweneth thought it funny, she gave Calain a scolding look nonetheless: the last thing they needed was for Aereth to witness Gweneth yanking her elderly father off Calain as he tried feebly to strangle her.
“Bren became a hearth wife during one of the yearly tributes,” said Kare quickly, before Sune could yell, “with the Dragon Clan.”
Gweneth looked around at her mother in surprise. “Bren was a tribute virgin?”
“Aye,” said Sune, “and don’t look so glum. Be proud! Your sister is well taken care of. And she fancied women anyway. It was perfect for her.”
“She’s madly in love with her wife!” said Kare gleefully to Gweneth, and Sune nodded smugly at Calain, as if to rub it in.
“And it’s nice to have her nearby,” went on Kare. She paused and added, “Not that I’m saying I wish you had become a Wilde Woman and stayed nearby. I don’t want to start an argument—”
“I know, Mother, I know,” sighed Gweneth. “Dagmar and Ase? What of them?”
“We had Dagmar’s wedding when last you came,” answered Sune. “You remember that boy she married? His eyes were a little too together close for my liking. I didn’t care for him much. They moved to Alleren.”
“What the devil for?” Gweneth asked in amazement.
Sune shrugged bitterly. “You know your sister always hated being a nomad. She wanted the city life and she found a boy who felt the same. She still writes . . . not that it does us any good.”
Gweneth knew why her father sounded so bitter: he and Kare couldn’t read.
“Ase went off to Realm Honione to be a smithy,” said Kare a little sadly.
Gweneth thought Cassandra also looked uncomfortable at the mention of Honione and couldn’t imagine why. Gweneth lifted her brows at the news but she couldn’t say she was too surprised. Her sister had always been heavily interested in the craft. “But what about her husband?”
“Eian died when bandits attacked the caravan a few years ago,” said Sune heavily.
“Bandits?” said Gweneth in disbelief. “In Sirione?”
“I know,” said Sune darkly. “The gall that they came here!”
“But how did they get in?” Gweneth said pointedly. “The Dragon Clan guards this forest like, well . . . dragons.”
“The gods do only know,” said Sune. “Sometimes I think the Wilde Women let them in. We didn’t give them a tribute virgin that year, you see. But don’t go repeating what I said. A Wilde Woman hears you, she’ll chop your head off.”
“Alva . . .” said Kare, beaming. She gestured at the young girl hovering nervously in the shadows behind her. “I want you meet your younger sister.”
“My what?” Gweneth repeated.
Sune straightened up proudly. “Her name’s Enid. Turns fifteen this summer. She’s our . . .” he chuckled “happy accident.”
“I didn’t think I could bear forth more children!” said Kare mischievously. “But your father and I did get frantic one night, and well . . .”
“Mother!” Gweneth begged, pinching the flesh between her eyes, and she heard Calain, Cassandra, and Selene laughing. Zelda was also smiling, greatly amused. Aereth was peering eagerly at the girl in the shadows, and Gweneth remembered that Aereth hadn’t even been around people her own age before.
“Your mother and I are jesting,” said Sune, smiling. “Enid lost her parents during the bandit attack, and we took her in.”
Kare gently took the meek girl in the shadows by her arm and brought her forward into the sunlight.
The girl was quite shy and pretty, with pale blue eyes, and a round face hidden behind curtains of long, curly, red hair. She was wearing a colorful patched skirt and tunic and a beaded shawl and kept her eyes shyly down. The little lamb under her arm baaed softly and she patted its small head.
“Well, go on,” gently scolded Kare. “Say hello, child!”
Enid glanced up and stammered, “H-Hello!”
“Hello!” said Aereth, confidently stepping forward. “I’m Aereth! Want to ride my horse with me?” She patted the side of Lucky’s long face, and the horse snorted.
Enid looked up at Aereth with round blue eyes, as if she had never quite seen anything like her before, and Gweneth chuckled, privately thinking that she hadn’t.
“Yes!” whispered Enid. Fumbling and nervous, she put down the lamb (which bounced off into the herd of sheep), and as everyone watched, Aereth lifted Enid by the waist and set her easily in the saddle. Enid blushed to see how strong Aereth was, and Gweneth was reminded painfully of Zelda and Calain. Then Aereth climbed up behind Enid, snapped the reins, and took off. Lucky galloped away alongside the caravan. Gweneth could hear Enid actually shrieking with laughter, they were going so fast.
“And don’t go too far!” Zelda shouted after them. She frowned indignantly. “She didn’t even ask me for permission first!”
“Aereth is growing up, Zelda,” said Calain soothingly. “They are rebellious at that age.” She glanced at the others, grinning. “Remember how we were?”
“Yes!” said Sune darkly before anyone could answer, and Gweneth held back a laugh.
“Well, since you’re here, you might as well come to our wagon for supper,” said Kare, holding open her arms (her shawl spread like wings from the maneuver) and herding them all along the caravan toward their wagon. She took Zelda’s arm as they went and started drilling her with questions, and Zelda answered pleasantly, surprised that Kare had such an interest in her. But Gweneth wasn’t surprised. It only made sense that her mother would want to know everything about the woman her daughter would serve for the rest of her life.
But Zelda didn’t have the greatest background. She was a peasant from the streets of Perth who had been raised by an abusive uncle, and after that, she hadn’t had many friends at Vira’Toss. Even her one friend, Wick, had apparently declined to protect her from Melvalda. Gweneth could see Zelda struggling and hesitating to answer Kare’s questions, for she didn’t want to unload a sob story on the woman and dampen everyone’s mood. Kare was nonetheless waiting eagerly and didn’t seem aware of Zelda’s awkwardness.
“Zelda doth mix potions well,” said Gweneth, coming up and putting her arm playfully around Kare to distract her.
Kare brightened. “Oh! Then you must know something about herbs!” she said happily to Zelda.
“Yes, I do,” Zelda said in great relief and met eyes with Gweneth, silently thanking her.
Gweneth winked at Zelda.
“Well, then,” Kare said happily, “if my daughter serves you, and you’re going to open a potions shop, then my daughter will be working in a potions shop – with herbs! Which means I got what wanted after all!” cried Kare triumphantly and playfully poked Gweneth’s silver breastplate.
***
AERETH LOVED SHOWING off. She was a great rider (Calain had called her a centaur!) and did not hesitate to leap Lucky over low logs and bushes. Each leap and bound made Enid shriek with laughter and her red hair toss. When they had slowed down to a walk, Enid breathlessly confessed that she had never ridden a horse before. She looked back at Aereth with admiring blue eyes, her cheeks flushed from laughter.
Aereth looked down at Enid and thought she was the prettiest thing she had ever seen. Enid’s hands were small and delicate, her lips sweet, her eyes round. Aereth was overwhelmed with the urge to kiss her, but instead, she fumbled with the reins and focused on the forest ahead. Alongside them, the noisy caravan continued forward, though now people were staring at them curiously from the wagons. Some of the friendlier ones waved.
“Do you like living in the caravan?” Aereth asked Enid. It suddenly occurred to her that she had someone from the wide, unknown world who was willing to talk to her, someone she could drill for information aside from Gweneth.
“I suppose so,” said Enid thoughtfully. “I don’t know anything else. I’ve lived in Sirione all my life. What about you? Do you just travel about with your mother and those knights?”
“Yes,” Aereth said in surprise, as if she was only just realizing. “We lived in some sort of old castle when I was small, but I suppose we don’t really have a home. Tis why we came here – to live in Edhen.”
Enid giggled in amazement. “But no one lives in Edhen! No one can get in!”
“We can!” said Aereth confidently. “And once we have, we shall live there happy together. Selene will teach me to hunt, and Mother will teach me magick, and Calain will spar with me . . . And Gweneth will tell me stories. And Cassandra, she shall teach me to dream walk. She promised. And I suppose I must learn my letters, too. And to control my strength. Calain can punch through walls, Gweneth told me. She was jesting, but all the Knights of Falcon can.”
“Wow!” said Enid, who had been listening in wonder. “Your mother’s knights sound amazing. And is your mother really a sorceress?”
“Yes!” said Aereth proudly and was very satisfied when Enid looked impressed by that.
“I always wanted to learn magick,” Enid confessed.
“So why don’t you?” said Aereth at once.
“Well . . . I’m afraid to leave Sune and Kare alone, for one. They’re old and can’t take care of themselves. I should like to stay and help them.”
“But you’re sacrificing your own life,” said Aereth pointedly. “Don’t you want to see the world?”
Enid was silent for a moment and then she said, “You sound as if you’re trying to convince me to come with you!” She laughed softly. “I almost wish you were. I know that if I stay here, some boy shall ask me to wed him, and I am afeared what shall happen if I say no.”
“Why are you afeared?”
“Because I. . . fancy girls,” Enid admitted in a low, frightened voice, as if she was afraid Aereth wouldn’t approve.
Aereth laughed lightly. “So do I, Enid. Tis why I asked you to ride with me.”
Enid was silent to hear that information, though Aereth noticed her cheeks flame brightly.
Aereth frowned. “But Gweneth’s parents take no issue with women marrying women. Two of their daughters did!”
“Two? I thought it was just Bren.”
“Aye. The one called Bren became a Wilde Woman, and Auntie Gwen is married to my mother . . . Sort of. All the knights are.”
“The tribe has been pushing for more children lately,” Enid said unhappily. “Since the bandits attacked us, our numbers have been low. It’s made us an easier target, especially if the Wilde Women can’t be depended on for protection. They seem to protect us on a whim these days.”
“What if you ran away?” Aereth suggested seriously.
Enid glanced back at her in disbelief. “And go where? I’d get eaten by a troll or captured by bandits the same day I left the caravan.”
Aereth was silent as she struggled to understand. She wasn’t aware of it before that moment, but she had lived a very sheltered life, one where she never had to worry about her safety or the dangers of men. No man could have harmed her with her mother and the four Knights of Falcon constantly at her side, and even if she had been on her own, she was still strong enough to lift a house. She was not small, vulnerable, and alone like Enid, whose parents were dead, who had no one to defend her, and looking down at the girl now, she was beginning to realize how vulnerable and helpless most women in the world were.
“I wish you could come with me,” said Aereth softly. “I would protect you, and you would be my lady.”
“You aren’t a knight,” Enid gently reminded her.
“No,” Aereth agreed. “I suppose I’m not. But you could be my wife. Or just travel with me. Be my love.”
Enid smiled sadly. “That’s very sweet, but I shall have my markings when I turn fifteen, and then the boys will start asking. They will expect me to become betrothed.”
Aereth knew that by “markings,” Enid meant tattoos. “What if I stole you away,” she said, “and took you to a magick school? Then you could be a sorceress, like you wanted. I’d help you get there.”
“You would never leave your mother and her knights!” said Enid shrewdly. “They’re your family, and you love them a great deal.”
“I would! I would leave them!” said Aereth at once. “I’m almost a woman! I heard my mother’s knights talking, and I think I’m a Wilde Woman.”
“Truly?” said Enid with interest.
“Truly! And Wilde Women grow fast. When I am grown, I shall come back here and steal you away, and then you can go to magick school or learn a trade or do whatever you please. I shall always protect you.”
As they rode on, Enid looked up at Aereth, and her blue eyes were warm with affection. Then without warning, she kissed Aereth on the lips. Aereth nearly dropped Lucky’s reins, which didn’t matter because Enid took her hands and guided them under her shawl . . . and over her breasts. For the first time in her life, Aereth felt arousal flush through her, and she kissed Enid with frowning abandon as Lucky lazily carried them forward.
***
“WHERE is that girl?” said Zelda crossly, peering out the back of the covered wagon. “If she isn’t back by nightfall—!”
“Let the girl have her fun, Zelda,” laughed Gweneth.
It was dusk and the sky was awash in watery orange and purple hues as the sun set beyond the trees. The entire caravan had stopped and the tribe had set up camp, their little fires blazing in a maze in the darkness as sheep baaed and pressed close throughout. Gweneth’s parents had cooked them a hot supper of roast mutton, and now that the meal was over, Calain was helping Kare wash the dishes in a basin (they were laughing and carrying on and seemed to be enjoying each other’s company), while Selene and Cassandra helped Sune set up a large tent.
Gweneth and Zelda were supposed to be getting the sheepskins they would sleep on out of the covered wagon, but Zelda kept pausing to stare out at the tent city and complain that Aereth hadn’t yet returned.
Gweneth looked past Zelda’s long golden hair at the tent her father, Selene, and Cassandra were erecting. It was a very large tent and had once housed Gweneth’s entire family. Now that family was scattered to the wind. She was disappointed. If she was honest with herself, she had wanted to see her sisters.
“You set this up,” Zelda accused, looking skeptically at Gweneth.
Gweneth was gathering a pile of sheepskins from the corner into her arms and laughed in disbelief. “What? I did no such thing. How was I to know my parents had adopted a girl after a bandit raid?”
Zelda wasn’t convinced. “I know my daughter! And I know you! She asked you to bring us to a caravan so she could – so she could—!”
“Meet other people? Experience life? Have fun?” Gweneth supplied. She looked at Zelda fondly. “Zelda,” she said soothingly, “you can’t hide Aereth away from the world. I know you wish to protect her, but she has to be a part of the world. She has to live.”
“I just . . . worry for her,” Zelda said, bowing her head.
Setting aside the sheepskins, Gweneth drew near and slid her arms around Zelda. She had taken off her armor and left it in the covered wagon. All the knights had, for Kare had insisted they stay with the caravan, at least for a couple days.
With her arms around Zelda, Gweneth nuzzled her face against Zelda’s soft hair, inhaled its sweet scent, and realized how much she’d missed holding the small woman in her arms. Zelda’s curvy body was soft and warm in her embrace and felt good against her.
The sorceress seemed comforted by Gweneth’s show of affection. She relaxed against Gweneth, closing her eyes as Gweneth stroked her hair.
“My first kiss was with a girl when I was Aereth’s age . . . her biological age,” Gweneth said with a laugh.
“Truly? Where is she now?”
“Married to a man in another tribe by now, most likely.”
“That soothes not my fear for Aereth, Gwen.”
Gweneth laughed. “No, I guess it wouldn’t. But if Enid breaks Aereth’s heart, well, that’s just a part of life, isn’t it? Should she miss a good experience because part of it might be bad? I still remember how Annora’s lips felt against mine. It was night, and we weren’t supposed to be out in the ruins, but we were headstrong . . . and in heat like dogs. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”
Zelda laughed. “Even as a young girl, you were terrible.”
“Aye, I was,” agreed Gweneth, laughing as well. “If I’d been a boy, I would’ve fathered sixty babes by now.”
“The gods have mercy on us all!”
They laughed again.
“Come along, you two!” Kare called to them. She was standing outside the newly erected tent as the others ducked inside the flap. “It’s bedtime! Bring those sheepskins along now!” she said cheerfully and ducked inside the tent.
Zelda moved to rise, but Gweneth tightened her arms, making Zelda go still as she whispered in her ear, “Shall you share my sheepskin tonight, sweet Zelda? I’ve been a good girl.”
Zelda’s lips twisted in smirk. “I suppose you have, my knight,” she answered, “but I like it when you’re naughty.” She looked up at Gweneth with her teasing blue eyes and touched Gweneth’s chin and kissed her slowly on the lips. Gweneth’s heart fluttered, as it always did whenever Zelda kissed her, and something inside her softened. She wanted to be afraid of how good the feeling was, and thinking for one horrible moment of Annora, she wanted to insult Zelda and thus push the good feeling away. But Gweneth held on to the feeling and let it glow inside her, determined to be unafraid. They touched foreheads, and Gweneth stared into Zelda’s eyes, wondering how it was that Calain could have ever left her.