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<b><center>APOCALYPSE</center></b>


I hate black moons. No good came of them, seen that for my own eyes when my sister was taken three springs  ago. Cursed hunters ransacked the village in search of young females to feed a giant who is their leader, ‘tis said, all in the dark of a black moon. Armor-clad hunters dragged Kallon into the dark, her screaming all the while for Father to stop them. That was their prize for domination and the curse of the Mih’Noush. Farmers and shepherds; no warrior blood ran fast in Mih’Noushi veins. As such, when my father objected to Kallon being hauled off, he was punished with a dagger to the heart by a man in a rams-head shaped helm. I clung to my mother’s skirts while the murderer said, “There, a blade. Learn to use it.” True to his word, he left the dagger in my father’s chest. I now carried it in my belt.

Black of moon, black of night. This was my first hunt, and I wanted to make it through without capture. Once taken, no one returns. Slaughtered? If only I knew, maybe I’d be less nervous. Hidden high in a sunwood tree, clad in the color of midnight and armed with a sack containing bread, cheese, and a skin of water, I assumed I had it all figured out to ensure my safety. I could go back to Aunt Nelliak’s cottage and resume my life of ale apprenticeship. Maybe handfast with Gristam in a few years’ time. He liked my ale best of all.

The thundering of hooves signaled the arrival of Kaeldish Hunters on the forested high road. I swallowed hard when their words reached my ears.

“How many do we need this night?”

“Two maidens from this village. Find them, now! Bellanian says to look high for a prize tonight.”

“High? Upon the high road? In hay lofts? Or does she wish for another falcon to dedicate to the gods?”

“I know not about her ramblings… but maybe we should scour attics and rooftops tonight. Harm none who do not resist.”

From my vantage high in the tree, I saw the riders split up. I dared to smile. Let them search attics tonight. They will be empty. All the girls were sent from this village to the caves beyond the hills to tend the sheep and goats. Except for me. I hid elsewhere. It seems foolish for all to hide in the same place. A decent tracker by daylight could find the pathway I scrubbed with a shrub. I may not hide with them, but I would wish none the fate my sister faced.

The baying of hounds wiped that smile off my face. One of the hunters said something in the Kaeldish language, which then sent the dogs tracking, straight for the tree I hid in. The dogs circled below, each jumping and baying its find. My fingers dug into the bark, while I wished for pointed teeth and knife-like claws. I’d slay them all and end the hunts.

From below, a man’s voice called forth in the common tongue, “Come down, little squirrel, no harm will befall you.”

I didn’t speak. My heart pounded in my throat, threatening to burst through skin.

Another voice called up, “We can chop the tree down or you can scamper our way. Either way, you are caught.”

With a deep breath, I squared my shoulders and sought to put the fear aside. “I cannot get down if the dogs are there.” Rent apart by dripping teeth did not appeal to me.

Without a word, the man in charge of the hounds pulled them away a fair distance-- more than enough room for me to shimmy down the sunwood. It was all for naught, my plan failed. Auntie’s eyes as I left, must have seen the future to hold such a bleak look. 

Although fear rattled my bones, I managed to keep it at bay as bared feet touched the earth.

Immediately a group of men surrounded me, all clad in armor the color of the full moon, gleaming in the torchlight. Strange helms crowned their heads, some with the antlers of elk, others with oxen horns. Wolves and Greatkats, Eagles and River Lizards, all metal faces that stared at me. Their horses were monsters, almost twice as high as I stood tall. None of the men had weapons drawn. None wore the ram’s head helm. Since I was caught, I would happily return him his knife, delivered the same way to him as he left my father.

The one with the largest elk antlers on his helm spoke, shaking me out of my vengeful thoughts. “What is your name?”

It took a moment for me to find my tongue. “I am called Ghyskian.”

“Are you pure, girl?”

“Aye.”

Dark eyes gleamed in the dark. “You’ll be examined. If you lie, you’ll be sent to be a camp follower as punishment. We do not tolerate liars.”

Anger poured through me. “I do not lie.” 

He smiled down at me and said, “Stay feisty. We need you that way,” To the men who found me, the Elk-Helm said, “Take her to camp and send her to The Great Crone. Bellanian said there would be a prize above us. I have no doubt we found it.”

The Oxen-Helmed one pushed me on the shoulder, indicating I should walk in a certain direction. I didn’t though. I bolted through the woods like a doe spooked. 

Did no good, they had hounds and horses. I didn’t get far before being tackled from behind. Forest soil filled my mouth and went up my nose as I landed on my face. 

A soft voice spoke in my ear. “Aww little bird, don’t fly away. No harm will come to you tonight.” I was lifted to my feet, my arms held by two men. 

“Let me be! I will not feed your giant, I’ll choke him!” I growled like a wild animal and tried thrashing my body to free myself. The men laughed.

“We have no giant to feed, little bird. You will not be raped tonight, nor butchered for food. You are an honored guest of the Kaeldish people. Now, Egbat, I want her delivered to The Crone, now. If she makes to escape, bind her.” To me, the voice echoing within the Elk-Helm said, “We approve of cleverness, not stupidity. Next time you try to escape, do so when the odds are in your favor.”

Ended up being slung over Egbat’s shoulder like a sack of thrashing meat, all the while my escort explained the things he thought I should hear.

“Now when you meet The Great Crone, look her in the eye. She despises weakness, and will use it against you if she has the chance. But don’t stare at her face; she hates it when curiosity gets the worst of people. You’ll be housed with The Maidens. If you do wrong, they will punish you—and that lot is crueler than most others. Beware the Sun-Haired wench, she hates all other females. Give her a chance and she’ll scratch your eyes out and make it so none will choose you to wive.”

“Why would I want to wive with those who steal me away?” Incredulous at this turn of fate, I struggled to wrap my mind around it all.

“Because there are few other options. Pray you are reborn not as Tribute to the Mother.”

Blood pounded in my ears. “Where are you taking me?” The Mother? Tribute? I was afraid to ask about something sounding so daunting.

“I’m taking you to your new nest, little bird. You are Kaeldish, now. You’ll be reborn from the Mother’s Womb and you’ll either be a proper woman, ready to wife, or a Tribute to the Mother and a guide to a chieftain. Sometimes one is reborn as The Warrior, but that hasn’t happened since my father was a child in nappies.”

I didn’t understand the Maidens, Mother or Crone he spoke about. Women, a given, some with stature perhaps?  I needed to absorb and learn the ways of my captors. Then I could use my knowledge to return home. 

Ale doesn’t brew itself and its Gristam who I wish to be wive. 

*I will escape, and soon.*  

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Posting this as a backup because cpu is being finicky.