Epona nodded, but she was moving too quickly for me to catch her expression. Her slow response was one that both encouraged and upset me. She often listened to the hopes and dreams of young ones, but she knew when to speak and when to remain silent. When her question came, it was neither encouraging nor disappointing. “What do you hope to see when you reach the house?”
Twisting my hands together, I considered how to respond. My journey wasn’t about my expectations, was it? My life, nay, my quest depended on duty, not desire. Early on, I’d learned that my life wasn’t about my selfish wants, nor was my duty to the centaurs based on personal fulfillment. I had to earn my place in the life cycle of the clan, for their goals centered on what was beneficial for the greater good. My training included hunting, skinning, cooking, making clothes, and learning to defend myself. Aside from the skills needed to survive, I also learned about the gods and goddesses of Labraid and the rituals of blessing to keep them sated. Everything I learned was to benefit the entire clan, not myself.
No matter how hard I worked and strived to be like the centaurs, as I grew, I became painfully aware that I was a mere human living among those who were part human, part beast. The centaurs were not unkind, but with their four legs, brutal hooves, and massive upper body strength, they were bigger, better, bolder, and stronger than I. They were confident, decisive, and safe in the haven they’d battled for. When they spoke of the kingdom of men, I suspected they looked down on humans. Even though they never said the words outright, it was clear they considered humans ignorant scum who were born of selfishness. It was because of that selfishness that they were shortsighted and had allowed the dark angel to steal the throne from royal blood. My blood went cold at the thought of taking back the kingdom, but it was my duty.
Epona’s question stirred a sweet sorrow within me and a longing pierced my soul. “I hope to find my mother.” The words sounded bold coming from my lips. “I want to meet her and ask her why she ran instead of staying here. I want to ask her if the dark angel can be defeated, and if I must play a part in it, how?”
Just then, the thick trees parted and the red-colored ground dipped, revealing the sparkling waters of a noisy brook. Blue water poured down from a minor waterfall, creating a consistent foamy spray. Because of the moving water, the centaurs had turned the brook into a place to bathe. I’d often come with the young ones to wash and play in the waters until I matured and became more concerned with how my body was different from theirs. It embarrassed me. The centaurs had faces and chests like mine, but the similarities ended there. My torso was longer and instead of four legs, a shiny coat of hair, and strong hindquarters, I had a round bottom, a cleft between my thighs, and long legs that left me feeling naked. Once I was twelve, I snuck down to the waters on my own to hide my body from curious eyes.
Epona faced me. Behind her, the rushing water twinkled in the sunlight like fireflies that came out at dusk to mimic the light of stars. Even in the heart of the leafy forest, there were enough gaps between branches to catch glimpses of the sky, and glories reserved for those who lived in the moors and wild lands beyond. “If you hope, then hope with all your heart and continue to ask the gods for guidance. It is not without remorse that I will see you leave us. Despite what anyone says, this is your home. Should things go badly in the kingdom of men, this will be your home again. You can always return should reality not meet your expectations. But remember, it is a hard life beyond Beluar, just as it is a hard life here in these woods.”
I stripped silently, considering Epona’s words. Ever since my birth, she’d watched out for me and encouraged me with her quiet words. Although it was tough for a human to live with the centaurs, her stoic and steady presence helped me bloom. I knew how to fight, hunt, and take care of myself, yet, although I looked forward to finding my mother, sorrow churned in my stomach. I would miss Epona, and it was a comfort knowing if I returned, she’d welcome me with open arms, even if no one else would.
Tossing my white dress over my head to shake away the bittersweet thoughts, I plunged into the cool water. As always, it stole my breath away, but I ducked under and scrubbed mud off my face and arms. When I broke the surface, Epona had waded in, my white robe in one hand and a branch in the other, beating away at the mud.
“Tell me again about Mother,” I implored, my arms and legs pumping under the water to keep me afloat. “Tell me how they came, and what they did and said.”
Epona continued whacking the once white robe, like she hadn’t heard me, but the fierce expression that crossed her face told me she had. Her shoulders slumped and the bulging muscles of her arms relaxed. Droplets of water gleamed on her body, matting the dark hairs of her back. Prisms of light shot out from the water, making the droplets gleam like jewels.
“It was nightfall, the evening after the confrontation with a tribe of dwarves. They parlayed with us, promising to trade with us and stay off our land unless invited. So when we heard of the ruckus near the border, we thought they had already broken their treaty. I stayed back with the children, as is my place, watching for the dawn, waiting for news. My sworn mate, Emthin, went with the warriors. He’d returned from battle once and I thought he’d return again, only, it wasn’t the dwarves. Humans were warring in the foothills of the forest among the spare trees. When our clan arrived, they were caught in the melee and a few were slain, for it was not known whether they arrived to assist or defend their territory. It was much later, when the stars of dusk had grown aged, that those left returned. Emthin was among the fallen, but before I could mourn, they brought forward those who sought protection here in Beluar, none other than the king and queen of men. The queen, Ceana Mor, was heavy with child.”
“Tell me again,” I murmured, “what did she look like?”
Epona moved my dress back and forth in the water, her gaze lost for a moment. When she spoke again, I had to strain to hear her over the water. “You have the same bone structure and deep-set eyes, but the resemblance ends there. Your hair is bright red, and hers as black as the feathers of a crow, hanging straight as an arrow to her waist. Her belly was swollen with child, but her dress was torn, wet, bloody. You, the child, were coming.” Her hands grew still, and a shiver passed over me as I thought of my mother, fleeing through the forest, about to give birth while the men who took the kingdom chased her. Epona went on. “Despite the tears that dripped down her face, she was strong. She labored over the next day and night, and finally gave birth, squatting in the hay.” Epona’s eyes misted over. “She stayed long enough to hold and feed you, before handing you to me. She begged me to protect you until the time came for you to come into your birthright.”
“What did she mean?” I asked, my heart beating hard as I imagined my mother running from the traitors to the crown. I imagined her cooing to me, telling me she loved me before she named me Aofie and gave me to Epona. What courage she must have had, to give me up just like that. What strength. And yet, she left. The sinking, cold sensation of abandonment coursed through my veins and I swam faster to keep my body warm. “My birthright, what did she mean by that?” I repeated the question, even though I already knew. I was the princess of Labraid; it could only mean one thing.
“She had a quiet determination about her as she told me she must go on. If the minions of the angel of death tracked her and the king to the forest, they would send squad after squad to kill her, the king, and you. She claimed she had to leave a trail of death behind her, and secretly she told me she had to leave the king too. He waited while you were born, and not long after your birth, the queen stood up on her own two feet and deemed herself travel ready. We gave them food, weapons, and instructions for crossing the forest, sending runners ahead to let the clans know they should pass untouched. Before she left, your mother gave me your name and asked me to train you like one of our own. She also said a time would come when you must claim the red sword. How to find it or what she intends you to do with it is unknown.”
My breath caught, although I’d heard this story many times. I hung on to each word, seeking another tidbit, or a hidden message. But each time, the words fell away, open, plain, no hidden meaning inside. Birthright. Red sword. Royal blood. It had no meaning for me, and the words of the gods did not help. My eyes fell to the shimmering waters and a shot of red flame erupted from my fingers. I squeezed them into fists, aware I should not use magic in water. It was tempting, but when emotional upheaval took hold of me, I lost some of the careful grasp I had over my abilities. I did not want Epona to see me upset.
“It is why I pray to the gods that you find your mother, for she will know what to tell you.”
I seethed inside. It was unfair to be uprooted from the only life I’d ever known because of someone else’s actions. I swam to shore, while Epona rung the water out of my robe. Thanks to her ministrations, it was shining bright white again, as if the mud had never been.
“I will follow the stream and see what I see.” I paused, pulling the damp material over my head and retying the crimson belt. My feet were bare, for the centaurs had no need of shoes and nor did I. My soles were tough, although I had a pair of leather slippers to keep burrs and stickers out of the tender arches. “It feels bleak,” I admitted, “thinking of beyond the forest and what transpires there. I don’t know what I will see nor what will happen. I feel alone, bereft, on my own.”
Epona placed a hand on my shoulder. “You will not be alone; the elders will send a guide with you. It would not be wise for a human to traverse the Beluar Woods without an escort. Life grants many wishes, but also allows us to face many challenges. You were born into a fallen world where evil runs ragged, but it is with the blessing of the gods that we have kept you safe for many years. Your parents were smart to run, and they set up decoys along the way, forcing their pursuers to assume the worst. In fact, their decoys were so effective even our warriors, tracking them, could not tell what fate befell them. It seems you have the favor of the gods, but should you discover the worst, return to us. No one knows the child the queen bore lives, and it may be best to keep it that way for a while. Eighteen years is plenty of time to let the fires of rebellion die down, but there are those who never forgot, and if rumor is true, the angel of death is prepared for every retaliation to his ultimate plan.”
Darkness darted in front of my eyelids. “What is his ultimate plan?”
Epona’s lips went tight and her eyes narrowed into slits. “Who knows better than he? But do not concern yourself with him. As you learned during training, focus on one step at a time until you can achieve the bigger picture. Now come, you are clean and the ceremony takes place at sundown.”
She moved through the forest swiftly and I jogged in her wake, trepidation building in my heart while my mane of red hair rolled out behind me, drying with every step.
Chapter Three
Gray boulders rolledinto a semi-circle made up the ceremonial gathering place. I perched on the edge of the largest stone in the center of the circle of centaurs. The elders stood in front, their mass casting dark shadows across the light of the glade. Each held a spear in their left hand and a curved horn in the right hand, the symbol of a fully trained warrior. Plates of silver armor covered their broad chests and hid their rippling muscles. Behind them stood the rest of the centaurs, males, females, and children. With them was Epona, with battle paint across her cheeks and forehead.
Tails swished impatiently in the silence and campfires smoked with rich herbs, the food of the gods. At least, that's what they called the bundles of herbs they put over the fires, causing it to smoke and steam. I was supposed to breathe in, and breathe deeply, for if one were blessed, the smoke would cause visions.
Hunger squeezed my insides. I'd never been invited to one of the ceremonies before, but I knew one was supposed to appear hungry after an encounter with the sacred gods of the hillock. The idea was the knowledge given during the ceremony would fill one—figuratively, for there was always a feast afterward, and that feast was something I had participated in. My mouth salivated just thinking about it and I set my jaw, determined to focus. This was my moment; I needed wisdom from the elders.
They circled me, chanting under their breaths, the oddness of their words causing goosebumps to rise on my bare arms. It was spring, but regardless, the nights in the forest were always cool once the warm embrace of the sun drifted out of the sky, leaving only the chill beams of the silver light we called Mother Selas, or Selas. She guided us through the temptations of night, bringing wisdom as her light scattered the nightmares of shadow and calmed the body from weakness.
A drum thrummed, one single beat, causing the chanters to sway and stamp as they gave in to their savage, animalistic tendencies. The elders raised their horns to their lips and blew, a single, sharp, sweet melody that jolted through me like a knife slipped underneath the skin of my back. I wiggled where I sat. Smoke stung my nostrils, itching and burning as it swept over me, but I was ready, holding back the single cough that made my body quake, pushing for release. I threw back my head, my red hair loose and flowing in waves down my back. Orange motes of ash sprung from the fire, swaying through the dark smoke, and moved toward me. There were three motes—no, five, and then six, multiplying rapidly. I held my palms up, and my body swayed back and forth in beat to the drum, which continued its solo quest, driving the rhythm into my heart. The orange motes from the fire clustered around me, the first one landing on my bare skin with a slight pain, like the prick of a finger with a needle. I flinched and took a deep breath. Herbed smoke washed into my lungs and my vision blurred.
As the smoke filled me, a sort of weightlessness came over my body. The elders appeared like nothing more than vague forms, their bodies long and sideways as my head lolled. They surrounded the rock I sat on and one by one lay an offering before me. Pieces of silver metal glittered in the dim light: two knives with bone-white handles the length of my wrist to forearm, leather gauntlets, a mesh shirt and matching skirt, leather boots that rose almost to my knees, a yew bow and a quiver of arrows. Tears of gratitude filled my eyes. They were preparing me for my quest.
