Chapter One
Royla hummed as she skipped through the trees. She turned her head and looked over her shoulder, flashing another flirtatious smile at the two handsome guardsmen who followed her with spears.
They were good stock: tall and muscular, their broad chests hard as stone from shooting arrows and throwing spears. They returned her smile, their eyes drifting down her body to the loincloth she was wearing that barely covered her bottom.
Royla’s cheeks warmed at their attention.
It had been a strange morning. Barnisha had been in a strange mood. The tribe mother, usually so cheerful, had seemed morose and out of sorts. She rarely paid attention to the youngers. So, when she’d brought a sweetloaf to Royla and told her she was to go picking berries in the glen, Royla had been quite confused.
But the sweetloaf had tasted so good, and the prospect of fresh rootberries after supper had lightened her spirits. She’d gladly accepted the basket, woven of willow, and skipped out the palisade gates and down the hill.
When she’d noticed the two guardsmen following her, she’d stopped, turned, and walked back up to talk to them. “Are you coming withme?” she’d asked.
“We are,” the slightly larger of the two had said.
This had puzzled Royla even more. First Barnisha’s attention and now this? It seemed very strange. “Why?”
The two had exchanged a curious glance at the question, Royla had noted. “There have been whispers of a wolf-pack wandering in the trees past the glen,” the larger had said. “Tribe mother said we were to keep you safe.”
The answer had only added to her confusion. Tribe mother didn’t have time to worry about sending youngers on berry-picking expeditions. And two guardsmen to keep one young girl out of harm’s way? Surely, they were more needed at the palisade?
“These berries are for the eve of Sowing Song,” the other had explained. “Tribe mother said we must have them. To share with the Drykta.”
“And the Tendek,” the large one added.
This made more sense. Royla had been so excited that her eighteenth winter had passed, she’d forgotten all about the Singing. Her eyes lit up with excitement at the prospect of the festival. There would be bonfires and dancing. And this year she would be allowed into the rutting hut to watch the seeding ritual!
Her heart fluttered. Her eyes wandered along the strong bodies of the handsome men. She couldn’t help but wonder if she might be picked this year? She was finally old enough. “Do you have a chosen?” she asked, looking back and forth between the two of them.
The men’s eyes went wide. One of them blushed and looked the other way.
The large one scowled. “What a question for a girl to ask! Don’t be rude!” he scolded.
Royla’s cheeks flushed red with shame. She was always doing things like that! Asking the wrong questions at the wrong time. “I’m... I’m sorry. I just thought that...”
“No wonder tribe mother picked you,” the shorter one muttered.
The larger guardsmen immediately elbowed him in the ribs. “Silence,” he muttered.
Royla shook her head. Still embarrassed by her misstep, she decided it would be best just to get on with it and head for the glen.
It was a beautiful day the first warm day of spring and the first day she didn’t have to wear her furs outdoors. She meandered down the path, the sunlight shining through the canopy casting dappled light and shadow on the forest floor.
Every so often she would turn and steal a look at the guardsmen behind her. Lately all sorts of strange new thoughts had been filling her mind. She’d taken to looking at the other men in the tribe and wondering what it was exactly that happened in the rutting hut in the spring.
She had some inkling, having one time heard from a friend about two bodies twisted together in the forest, mashing against each other and moaning. She’d hidden in the brush and watched them until they both cried out and the man had collapsed on top of the woman, panting and sweating.
But she hadn’t been able to get enough of a view to knowexactlywhat they’d been doing. It seemed a little filthy, from what she’d seen.
As the hills rose on either side of them, Royla forced herself to stop imagining lewd things and start paying attention to the shrubs. Rootberries liked the shade. She picked at the brush, peeling back leaves and branches, trying to find the hiding spots of the sweet things.
By the time they arrived at the glen, she’d found nothing. She turned and watched the two guardsmen walking up behind her. They came to a stop a few feet away. Royla shook her head. “I can’t seem to find anything,” she said.
The larger one pointed his spear past the glen, toward the forest wall ahead. “Maybe in there?” he said.
Royla turned and looked at the wall of trees. They seemed darker than the ones they were in. Maybe even a little ominous. She spun back around to face the men,catching their eyes just as they snapped off her backside.
A funny warm feeling tickled her insides. A smile sprouted across her lips. “Are you going to come with me? What if the wolves are in there?” Royla asked, a slight tease in her tone.
