Authors: Jennifer Bene
“Is that why your name is Fae? Did you have another name?” Ebere asked.
“I am Faeoihn, and Fae is the only name I have anymore.”
“But –”
“No, Ebere.” Fae flinched, hating the hollow place the memory of her father’s voice speaking her name had created inside her. Neala was the name of the girl in the forest picking berries and gathering herbs with her father. Fae was the name of the woman, of the slave, she was now.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” Ebere sighed, “Please continue the story? What happened to your father? Do you know?”
“I don’t know for sure, but Eltera told us our families would always be blessed for giving us up. She said we had a new family now, and she gathered all the new Faeoihn together in a hidden part of the land where no one else lived. We totaled a hundred and seven fledgling warriors on that first new day. She trained us herself to be the strongest possible so we could carry out her mission. For a year we fought and bled together as sisters until we were fearless with our weapon of choice.”
“Weapon of choice? You chose a weapon? Which one?” Ebere rapid fired questions, and it made Fae smile a little.
“The sword. Anyway, when she felt we were ready, she sent us to our first battle. She wanted us to make the sides stop fighting. It was one between two villages who disputed grazing lands for their livestock. We arrived in a flash of light, which sent some of them running, and then fought the remainder of both sides until they surrendered. Each man that fell before us we gave the same choice: return to your family and your village to live peacefully, or die that day. Almost all of them chose to return to their families; it was where they wanted to be anyway. As we continued to fight, the word spread that anyone taking up arms would call the Faeoihn to them. By the end of it all there were almost fifty years of relative peace in our lands. Villages started to work out their disputes by talking it through instead of going to war. Farming near the coasts prospered. Populations grew with the additional available food, and villages were stronger because all of their men were there, and
alive
.”
“It sounds amazing.” The girl was leaning against the wall, holding an unfolded towel. Fae snagged it and Ebere smiled at her, “We only have two rooms left, you better finish this by then.”
“I will, but you’re not going to like the end.” Fae shrugged, “Honestly, for a while it was perfect. Everything was. I spent each day with my sisters, Eltera was with us often and anytime we were around her it – it was like standing in sunlight. Warm and pure. In the last years we didn’t even have to go anywhere, there was no more fighting within the boundaries of Eltera’s control.” Fae swallowed, turning away from Ebere so she didn’t have to watch her as she told the last of it. “What we didn’t know was that the god of war, Gormahn, was furious over the peace. Furious with Eltera for making it happen. He formed an army that he called the
Laochra
,” she fought the urge to break the glass in her hand that she was wiping down as rage flooded her with the memory of them. Instead, she carefully laid it back by the sink and continued speaking. “Laochra ironically meant ‘heroes’ in our language, but they weren’t heroes. These were brutal, evil men who swept through villages and left them burned and the people terrified or dead. We had no choice but to meet them in battle before they could do more destruction.”
That battle, the last battle, was something Fae couldn’t forget if she tried; and she had tried. She had tried for so long to forget. But the memories were always waiting just under the surface, and not even the blissful blur of the Oblivion could erase the pain they caused.
● ● ●
There had been more than two days of fighting. The Faeoihn, her sisters, were used to mortal opponents who tired over time, but the Laochra never seemed to. They fought with a bloodlust that left them beyond reason. One of her sisters had tried to talk with one of them, offering them the normal bargain of returning to his family but he had only spit at her and used the moment of distraction to sweep her legs out from under her. If Neala hadn’t blocked his downswing, Tara would have died. Their fighting had turned the ground to mud. The grass had been churned away by the combination of hundreds of feet, the rain the day before, and the spilled blood leaving a slick mess to fight in.
Neala was fighting a monster with a battle-axe, his blows landing hard against her sword and forcing her backward. She had managed a small cut on his side, but the pain didn’t seem to register in him and she knew her exhaustion was slowing her blocks. One of her sisters appeared out of the melee and charged into his side, knocking him away.
“Thank you, Kiera! Have you slain any of them?” Neala was breathing heavily, letting her sword rest in the ground to give her muscles a quick break. The other Faeoihn, one of her best friends, shook her head.
“I could have sworn I gave one a mortal wound, but he kept fighting. Have you looked at them closely? Their eyes are black as night, I believe death itself is inside them. Nothing else could explain this.” Kiera carried a long staff with blades in either end; a wicked weapon if one knew how to use it. Neala shook her head, this was the third day and with both sides healing the battle could go on forever.
Looking across the field, all of her sisters were caught in fights with the Laochra, and some were doing well, while others were falling back. One took a sword to her side and fell, but before the Laochra could deal the deathblow his sword was caught by another Faeoihn’s blade. They all healed at dawn, but the Laochra seemed to just steadily heal over time. Unfortunately, it seemed that this was keeping them stronger on the field than the Faeoihn, and it was only a matter of time before they started to buckle. They were outnumbered, exhausted, wounded, and hungry. Neala’s eyes turned to the skies and she whispered a prayer to their goddess before looking back to Kiera.
“Eltera will come, I know it, she will stop this madness. Move!” Neala grabbed the other Faeoihn and pulled her forward, bringing her sword up to block the downward blow of the rushing Laochra. He stepped back and swung his sword again, but Fae knocked it aside and delivered a deep cut to his thigh on her downward swing. When he fell she brought her sword up to deliver what she hoped was a deathblow, but a bright light suddenly blinded her. It was followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder that boomed across the field and shook the ground beneath her feet hard enough to knock her off balance. As the light faded, it revealed Gormahn and Eltera standing on a raised hill in the middle of the battle. Their voices rang out in argument, silencing both sides of the melee almost instantly.
“Return your Laochra to their homes!” Eltera shouted at Gormahn who stood a head above her. He only laughed, and his deep voice was rough when he responded.
“Yield the field, and perhaps they won’t slaughter all of your Faeoihn.” Gormahn raised his sword high and the Laochra roared back at him.
“Let these lands have peace, Gormahn. Imagine what they can do if we give them the peace in which to do it!” Eltera was insistent, and Neala couldn’t pull her eyes away. It seemed that both armies felt the same way. No one was fighting anymore, as they all waited for their leaders, their gods, to act.
“Peace is the harbor for the weak, Eltera.” Gormahn’s growl rumbled through the ground, and he brought up his sword to attack her. Eltera spun her staff in the way and blocked the attack, the Laochra yelled again in support of their god. The Faeoihn cheered for their goddess, and the skies lit with lightning as their power clashed.
“Peace is a harbor for their future!” Eltera screamed and they both moved faster than normal eyes could track. While Eltera attacked fiercely, Gormahn countered each blow and pressed her back with his own. Both the Faeoihn and the Laochra began cheering and calling out to their god. Both gods glowed brightly, which was enhanced by the red of the setting sun and it made the sight of their battle all the more awe-inspiring. Booms of thunder and bright flashes in the sky above them seemed to be timed with their strikes. The world itself was reacting to their power being released on the earth. Gormahn brought his sword around in a hard swing, and Eltera blocked it with her staff but the force of it buckled her arms and his blade dug into her shoulder. She only let out a short groan before she switched the staff to her other arm to continue the fight.
“Surrender to me, Eltera, and I will let your Faeoihn live. I swear it.” Gormahn swung his sword again and Eltera barely blocked it. She stepped back and he swung again, this time the blow of his sword wrenched the staff out of her hand. A roar went up from the Laochra across the field, and Neala tensed. Disbelief froze her in place as Gormahn laid his sword against Eltera’s neck, and the goddess kneeled down in defeat. “Surrender.” His voice was deafening, and Neala shook her head slowly. Silently pleading, praying.
They had failed her.
They hadn’t fought hard enough, they hadn’t been strong enough, hadn’t been
good
enough to win – and so she had stepped in. The goddess of nature had challenged the god of war directly, and now she had lost.
No
.
Impossible
.
It wasn’t possible
. Neala’s mind raced, trying to think of something that could be done, but then Eltera’s voice rang out with words that broke something deep inside her.
“Alright Gormahn, I surrender. I accept your offer and your sworn promise not to kill my Faeoihn.” Eltera put her hands up in front of her. She was surrendering, actually surrendering. Gormahn held out his hand and two large gold manacles appeared, linked by a golden chain.
“I assure you, my Laochra will not kill them.” Gormahn grinned, and clasped the manacles around Eltera’s wrists. Across the field the Faeoihn screamed in unison, golden bands of light appeared around each of their wrists, the curse in the manacles latching itself onto all who were linked to Eltera. Pain shot through Neala and she collapsed to the ground crying out as incomparable pain paralyzed her. It was like her bones were breaking and melting from the terrible heat that rushed through every inch of her.
“No!” Eltera’s shout echoed across the field, intermingling with the other shouts from the Faeoihn. Neala craned her neck to see Gormahn lift Eltera’s chains high. Tears blurred her vision as she bit down on the scream that wanted to escape her lips.
“My Laochra! We have won!” Gormahn’s voice shook the ground as he bellowed. “Take the Faeoihn as your spoils of war, and celebrate their defeat!” The Laochra cheered, and Gormahn looked down at Eltera, lowering his voice. His words imprinting themselves on each Faeoihn, “They won’t die, Eltera. They will serve forever.”
A fist wound into her hair and craned her head back until she could see the bloody smile of the Laochra above her. She wanted to fight as he pushed her to her back, but the golden tendrils of pain were dragging through her like knives. It was hard to tell the different pains apart as he hit her, cursed her for the cut to his leg, and then pushed her thighs apart.
Across the field there were whimpers and screams, and Neala’s joined the other Faeoihn.
● ● ●
Fae swallowed and bundled up the sheets from the last rooms. Ebere was silent, grabbing another bundle of sheets from the earlier rooms. The memory of that day usually sent her into a rage, but it was more of a dull twist of an old knife under the weight of the Oblivion. For a moment she wondered if Ebere would ever make eye contact with her again, but then she stepped up and just shook her head. “So from then on you’ve been a slave? For all these years?” Fae nodded, and they both turned towards the stairs. “With the Laochra?”
“No. Gormahn let them keep us for a month or so, but then he wanted them on the march. He wanted them to bring war back to our people. He also didn’t like that we were all with each other, my sisters and I comforted each other, and did our best to protect each other.” Fae got quiet as she passed by a set of guards before continuing to the back of the house with the bundles of sheets. “So, he had them scatter us across the world. No two Faeoihn in the same place. I ended up in Rome.”
“Rome? That must have been amazing!” Ebere seemed to actually be impressed as they neared the laundry. Fae almost laughed out loud.
“The Romans were terrible to non-citizens and, let’s just say I never saw much of the great city.” Fae stated it matter-of-factly, and didn’t leave it open to questions, not wanting to remember her time there any more than her time with the Laochra in their keep.
“I’m sorry, Fae. I didn’t mean –” Ebere swallowed, “I couldn’t imagine being like this, being a slave, for so long.”
“Well, I’ve served in a lot of places, and I’m fortunate that part of Eltera’s gift with us was a knowledge of language. Otherwise, it would have been a nightmare to be scattered like that.”
“So, you learn languages fast?”
“Try instantly. It hurts like a bitch, like a cold headache. But then I know it.” Fae tilted her head at her, “What language did you speak before you learned English?”
“Amharic, but I learned a lot of English before I left school to work. It wasn’t hard to pick up the rest of it.”
“Say something in Amharic.” Fae braced herself outside the laundry, as Ebere gave her a critical look and then spoke.
“Amarenya techiyallesh?” Ebere’s words made her flinch as Eltera’s gift flared to life inside her. The headache pierced through her temples and Fae gasped as the words echoed in her mind:
Do you speak Amharic?