The Daughters of Vei, PROLOGUE: Messengers

(The Daughters of Vei is a prequel to The Shieldbreaker Saga. You can buy the first novel of the series here.)

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When she comes to, Kivli can taste blood.

Her ears are ringing, too, but she can still hear enough to know where she is: the screams of the wounded, the moans of the dying, steel points being driven through mail and flesh and into the mud below, incredulous cheering and laughter from men suddenly realizing they're going to live through the day and pretending that they never expected any different. (The ones who laugh loudest are the ones she has no patience for: they are clearly attempting to convince the gods, after the fact, that they were not actually afraid. They are lying to themselves. It is embarrassing.)

She looks down quickly to make sure she's still got a weapon, then runs her tongue around the inside of her mouth to make sure she hasn't lost any teeth. That would be a shame; as scarred and fucked up as the rest of her face and body are after eleven years of warmaking, her teeth are flawless. She sighs with relief: her sword is in hand and her teeth are all still there. Nothing to worry about. Her headache, on the other hand... She sits up and shakes her head gently to try to clear it, and sees drops of blood fly across her field of vision as it drips out of her hair. Is it hers? Did she hit her head on something else, too, perhaps when she landed? A pass across the top of her skull finds the spot almost immediately. Her fingers are stained red when she pulls them away. She grimaces. That will be a new scar—an ugly one, probably. She'll need to find one of their paymasters' medical tents, see a barber-surgeon and get it sorted out. She turns her head left and right to look for the rest of the girls.

And that's when she sees it, shimmering in the torches and the brilliant rays of the setting sun reflecting off the river.

It is beautiful and terrible and cannot be real, yet there it is. It moves (...walks? floats? she cannot tell) deliberately among the bodies, weeping tears of blood. Suddenly it stops over a dead Hodrir and bends down to kiss the warrior's forehead. It stays still for a moment, and the light around the body brightens imperceptibly, as if the warrior is upon a barely visible pyre.

Then the Messenger rises back into the sky, and something else rises with it.

This is not real. She has clearly lost her mind.

She lifts an arm to wipe the blood and sweat from her brow and then shuts her eyes tightly for a moment, like a recalcitrant child who thinks she doesn't have to obey a parent she can't see, and when she uncovers her eyes again there are dozens of them, all over the field, bringing the Goddess's chosen ones home.

She stares, transfixed, unashamed at the tears she feels forming in her eyes, ecstatic at this miraculous, impossible confirmation of everything she has always known to be true.

She blinks again and they are gone.

She sobs, falls to her knees, and bows her head to the filthy, blood-soaked, consecrated ground.

All glory to you, Patroness. Thank you for trusting in me. Thank you for letting me see. With all my heart, I am yours.

She stands again. A few of the other Daughters are making their way towards her. Some of the younger ones look worried.

Ohta, are you alright? one of them asks her. She smiles wide and the younger girl starts ever so slightly, and Kivli knows why instantly, and she spits the rest of the blood out of her mouth and then grins again. Her head still hurts. It could not possibly matter less.

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Read Chapter 1