“She wasn’t on last night either,” the other young huntress with us, Dashka, says.
“She was with me and Kalixta,” I answer calmly, though my body prickles with sweat. “She’ll be here tomorrow night, I’m sure.”
Haven huffs out a laugh. “She’d better. With you gone we’ll need all the hands we can get. We’re all praying you get pregnant soon so you can get back to the hunts quickly.”
Dashka’s mouth pops open, head swiveling to me. “Will you hunt while pregnant?”
I shrug a shoulder. “Why not?”
Haven laughs again. “When your belly is swollen with children you won’t want to get anywhere near a horse.”
I snicker. “In the beginning it won’t be a problem, but by the second or third term, well, you might be right.” My heart swells with affection. They don’t judge me for continuing on with them even though I’ve been made a carremai. We all understand what it’s like. We all crave the unnamable feeling of being under the open sky, of riding fast, of providing for our people with the animals we hunt and bring home. When I look at these women: strong, capable, intelligent, I wonder what it was about us, about them, that made the Sar Dyeus deem us undesirable?
Whether he knew it or not, he released me from a fate I didn’t want, at least for a few years, and doomed me to suffer my mother’s undying disappointment.
Swinging up onto our horses, we set out into the Sere as the sun lowers. In the coming weeks, torrential winds will carry dust in large swaths that will coat the land and drive our hunters home. Our people will feel hunger in these times. I remember when I saw a storm come in from the comfort of Dyeus’s islands in the sky. Anger that I wasn’t home to help, where I ought to be, rolled through me as swift as the storm. It was the moment that I’d become well and truly disillusioned from any enchantment the sky kingdom had ensnared me in those first few months after Alixor chose me.
Across the desert there are several outposts and blinds we use to hunt for game. Others are closer to the Realm and for the sole purpose of keeping an eye out for wayward rogues that slip past the sky kingdom’s defenses. With the guard’s encampments constantly on the move in anticipation of weak points around the Realm, it’s rare that we encounter a rogue, but we’ve all noticed that it’s been happening more often than usual.
At twilight, I fell a saiga. I’m not ready to go back yet, so another huntress offers to return home to dress it. And, I suspect, to enjoy the evening with the farmhands.
Haven shakes her head, scoffing. “Lucky.”
“You could have volunteered,” I say.
“Nah. I’m fertile. Not worth the risk.”
It’s not strictly against any rules to have children with the farmhands, but they abide by the same conduct as children of Dyeus do, and typically a woman will only have one child instead of twins. It works out sometimes, like with Ninon, but often the pregnancies ultimately fail.
“Oh I don’t know,” I say, scanning the dark horizon now that twilight has wheeled into night. “Hands and mouths can provide plenty of pleasure if you ask me. You don’t need to take it that far if you don’t wish to.”
She sighs. “I can’t help myself.”
I grin. “Insatiable.”
“Pot calling the kettle black, I think.”
I toss my head back and laugh. “I think you may be right.”
“I’m still jealous of you getting that kind of attention consistently when you’re in Dyeus.” Haven, several years older than me, told me when I became a carremai that she desperately wanted to be chosen, to see the sky kingdom, to feel like someone wanted her. Her mother, a lot like mine, had a less than favorable reaction to the undesirable distinction placed upon her.
My attention is pulled to where the islands float in the sky. “I’m trying not to think about it.”
Haven puts a hand on mine, giving it a squeeze. “Sorry. I know you don’t really want to do this. I was only attempting to point out some good you’ll have of it.”
I place my free hand on top of hers. “I know. Shall we head to the outposts? I have a feeling tonight.”
“Yeah?” Haven asks, brow raised. “At your leisure, then.”
That tugs a smile from me. My pace is never leisurely. I’m pleased when Dashka matches my speed, both her and Haven flanking my lead on either side. My heart thunders and pulls, remembering my ride with Ninon two mornings ago and the dark-haired rogue staring at me as if he could see my very soul. The farther we get from Nevoba, the more desolate the Sere becomes. Twisted, leafless trees with bark as dark as coal and pale, scrubby brush collect in thecrevices of the rock monuments that rise up, powerful and imposing, like waves in the ocean. Vegetation is scarce, but brings the saiga and the hare. We hunt both, but we’re here for neither now as the darkness of deep night takes hold. In short order we make it to our outpost, relieving the earlier crew. Once they’re gone, our horses replace theirs in a deep rock outcropping that conceals them.
Next to the outcropping is a low, wide arch of rock, the white stone cast blue in the growing light of the twin moons, and the three of us hunker down into it. I position myself facing the Realm of Rogues with Dyeus’s sky kingdom to my right. Haven sits next to me, facing the opposite direction while a few short yards away, Dashka faces the mountains, poking her head into the dugouts for us to shoot arrows from.
“You said one would come tonight,” Have begins. “Want to place a wager?”
“You have nothing I want.”
Haven scoffs. “I’ve seen the way you look at my mare.”
