Chapter One
“They’re back.”
“You’ve healed well, my girl.” Breda set a large clay bowl in front of her before joining her at the long sturdy table, most of which was covered by a winter weaving project nearly done. “But I still believe your head took more beating than you think.”
She warmed her hands in the steam from her supper stew. “That’s as may be, but I am not wrong about this. There is someone out there. From the smell, not the same someone as last evening. I should roust them out.”
The mass of tight, kinked gray that surrounded Breda’s head like a halo bobbed as she considered the suggestion. “It could be someone too shy to ask for my help.”
Only at night and for several nights in a row? She thought not. She kept her counsel because there was no point in repeating last night’s argument about it. She pulled the heavy blanket close and dug into the dowitcher and turnip pottage. The serving was as generous as the round curves of Breda’s figure, and every bite warmed her. She’d hoped to catch a rabbit for their supper, but a bird had sufficed — Breda was as good a cook as she was a healer.
Though she remembered nothing of her life before waking up on wise Breda’s cot, she knew that food this hot and rich was uncommon. She was grateful for the older woman’s kindness and hoped her help with everyday chores and overdue repairs had evened the scales for the hospitality she consumed.
Breda was right; her head did still ache from time to time. She didn’t remember the blow, but the clear dent across the side of her helm matched the bruise she could still feel from temple to ear. How had her foe not finished her off? How far had she walked in a senseless daze? A long way, it seemed, given the state of her boots. A very long way, even, because Breda knew of no clan that kept women in their soldier ranks.
Of her appearance she knew only what her own eyes could see, or Breda could tell her — she was as tall as most men, and mayhap closer to forty years than thirty. Her face, Breda said, looked as if she’d been born scowling at the world. Her eyes were gray or light blue, depending on the light, and fringed in thick black. The pinpoints of freckles against skin, as pale as Breda’s was dark, covered the front of her body. Breda said they were just as plentiful on her backside. The single braids twisted from each temple were of long-ago weaving and lacked any shine of health. The bangs forever getting in her eyes appeared to have been cut with a spoon, at least in Breda’s judgment.
Time, Breda preached. Busy hands freed the mind. Her history would come back in time. Yet, three weeks and a day later, not even her name had returned to her.
A twinge at her temple reminded her of the futility of forcing memory. Her name might elude her, but she’d learned a great deal about herself, hadn’t she?
She knew how to clean and repair her armor. The iron scales and chain link were far from new, but the bronze seal on the breastplate, helm, and shield said some expense had been undertaken in its making. The spiral seal was known to Breda as a symbol of life, older than time itself, but Breda knew of no clan that used it. The same was true of the engraved runes and letters on her axe blades and handle — Breda had no idea the people they were made by, though their general form and shape was like that of Norse tribes and clans.
When she stood quietly in a clear space and held her axe at ready, her body remembered a swirling dance of steps and lunges that made her axe sing in the air. She knew how to throw the thin dagger sheathed in her belt with enough skill to pin a falling leaf to the tree behind it.
She hadn’t flinched from the gore when a local man had staggered in streaming blood from his thigh after falling on his plow. She’d handed Breda a thin strip of leather to tie above the wound before Breda had even asked for it.
She walked as if she’d spent much of her life astride a horse, and she knew both bridle and saddle knots, which came in handy trying to keep the troublesome goats tethered at night. She did not know the knots that Breda used for the same tasks, knots that Breda said were used by sailors. She was certain that she had never milked a goat nor a sheep, but hunting small game and foraging for firewood she did easily and well.
She had no name. But she knew she was a soldier, not a sailor, nor a farmer. She was also practical and useful, and she would eat anything put in front of her. The rest will come, she told herself.
After supper she joined Breda for a survey round of the small huts and lean-tos that ringed the grove sheltering Breda’s small holding. They lured the chickens into their roost and set the doors and hatches against night visitors. The repairs she’d done to the hut held nicely, forcing the foxes to find other meals. While Breda applied a fresh poultice to a cut on one of the goat’s legs, she made sure the tethers holding all three goats were well secure. As usual, one of the three head-butted her onto her backside, but she nearly forgave them because Breda laughed so heartily.
She stood some way off while Breda checked the door of the drying hut, which was filled to its rafters with early spring chervil. It was Evil’s own weed, she had decided, because she sneezed whenever she was near it.
On the other side of the grove, near the two sweet chestnut trees, she smelled an intruder again. She grimaced in the direction of the source, but all was still.
“I don’t like it,” she said as they both worked in front of the fire, her rubbing paste polish into the thin iron scales on her boot covers. She knew they should be bright as scales on a silver fish, but at some point, rust had set in. “They are closer every night. Why would someone watch you? Or are they watching me?”
Breda’s dark, wrinkled face was as steady as a standing stone that faces sun and wind and gives back warmth and safety. Her gnarled hands never paused in their threading of her smaller loom. “You have no reason to think they wish either of us harm.”
“They’re attempting to be quiet. They’re bad at it, that’s the truth of it. They don’t know the wood and therefore are either reckless or stupid. Neither is comforting to me.”
“It will be as the goddess wills it.”
She grunted. Breda’s goddess was not one she thought she knew, and Breda’s acceptance of Fate without challenge didn’t sit well on her mind either. She was grateful and comfortable in this place, but it did not feel like home.
As the fire waned, they wrapped large, heated stones in thick wool and tucked them into their beds. Breda’s pallet was on a four-post platform no wider nor longer than she was. Her own bed was on a low cot where folks who’d come for healing could rest. The pallet was stuffed with tufted wool and goose down. Its softness was a comfort, as were the hot stones at her feet and another at the small of her back, between her and the cold wall.
Her body liked these simple pleasures, but every night as she fell asleep, she was aware that her hips weren’t used to such ease. Covered by two blankets, she drowsily worried that she’d sleep too well, and the presence she sensed in the woods might find advantage in that.
She was of an instant full awake. Not sure what had startled her, she rolled to her feet and reached for axe and shield. Leaves rustled by a night-feeding marmot would not wake her.
The sound came again — the scuff of a boot on packed ground.
Without thought, wearing only the shapeless night shift of Breda’s that strained at her shoulders and reached only to her knees, she flung open the cottage door and stepped into the moonlight. The low moon cast faint shadows that made trees into thin giants.
As she set her shield on her left arm, she shifted it to reflect what there was of the light. Let them see who I am. Her right hand wrapped around the carved ash handle at its midpoint, she swung the axe in an arc around her head so the twin, curving blades would catch the moonlight too. In one continuous, smooth motion, she brought up her shield so the edge of one blade slid across it, sounding an eerie note of iron menace that silenced the wood around her.
Words, deeply known, came to her. “I am Skyra of Stane. Declare yourself!”
Leaves rustled, much farther away, and again farther. She listened until the wood was full only of night noise.
“I am Skyra of Stane,” she repeated. She had a name.
Karin Kallmaker –
The date is actually 12/26/2022. I backdated it so this entry would appear first for future visitors.
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Julie
Beth G.
Cheryl H.
Laurie S.
Susan A.
Congratulations!
Karin Kallmaker –
Thanks for stopping by! You’re at the right place to enter the drawing for a download of Knight of Nights from the store when it comes available in Spring 2023. To enter tell me about any of your favorite women warriors, real or fictional.
When I discovered that I was descended from Lady Godiva, the great tax warrior, I read up on her. The riding naked through Coventry thing is likely fanciful legend as the story only arises 200 years after her death. Nevertheless, I regard her as a warrior. And this is an awesome new statue of her finished in 2011 by Sir William Reid Dick.
Alicia Gael –
Hi Karin! Off the top of my head, I would say Joan of Arc. I’d love to see a queer retelling of her.
Karin Kallmaker –
I really think we need one. And a different ending. Maybe.
Kristin Charles –
Does zena count lol
Karin Kallmaker –
Totally!!
Julie –
Well, this might sound silly, but whenever I watch Lara Croft in the Tomb Raider movies or GI Jane or The Long Kiss Goodnight, I think those women are tough as f***. It always gets me excited like I should go find some class where I can learn to fight and get really strong, but not bulky, and be like them! Also the Amazonian women that just train all day as warriors for when the time comes they need to fight, like on Wonder Woman.
Karin Kallmaker –
The Long Kiss Goodnight is on my Christmas movie list but I can’t get my wife to watch (too violent for her taste). I hope you’ve seen The Woman King – based on real warriors. I thought it was excellent.
Cynthia –
Maybe Xena because she introduced me to Academy of Bards & Uber fanfiction then to ALL the great lesbian writers out there…😉
Karin Kallmaker –
Xena, yep, she totally counts! And what a gateway for so many to find the books and writers!
Shay Coker –
Well this one may sound silly to everyone else but my women worries are my Aunts. I come from a huge family with a ton of aunts and they all worked our whole lives to make sure we knew we could do anything in life. Each woman in our family had some kind of major career and made sure all us us younger woman knew we could do the same and so much more.
Karin Kallmaker –
Not the least bit silly! They sound like great role models and they had to have been warriors to excel in the times they lived in.
Myra Sloan –
Lori Piestewa, from our state of Arizona, was the first Native American woman to die in combat in the US Military, and the first woman to die during the Iraq War. I have great esteem for women who fight in our military. It takes great courage.
Karin Kallmaker –
It does, not just facing enemies, but also facing the sexism dished out to women by their own colleagues. It’s really not easy.
Lana –
Lyudmila Pavlichenko, she was a Soviet Russia’s sniper during WWII, awarded the medal of Hero…and of course, Xena, the princess warrior 🙂
Karin Kallmaker –
I’ve heard of her. She sounds really fierce!
Mercedes –
My mother Floretta was/is the strongest, toughest warrior woman I know. She packed a full, fierce life into just 45 years, and did it her way.
Karin Kallmaker –
I would say that the apple didn’t fall far from the tree when it comes to strength!
Maddy –
Xena is the first warrior to come to mind. The show may be cheesy in retrospect but boy howdy did it ever strike a chord with me when it first aired. Her war cry still gives me goosebumps as do many of the ladies from the show 😉
Karin Kallmaker –
Some episodes have a lot of cheese, and others still resonate as simply good storytelling. I might be due for a rewatch!
Maggie –
My favorite woman warrior is probably Xena, although the show went off the rails so many times. But Alanna by Tamora Pierce is also a favorite.
Cam –
Presently my warrior would have to be Astar, the Horsewoman of War from TJ Dallas’ trilogy. She is strong, intimidating and yet passionate and loving.
Karin Kallmaker –
She sounds amazing. On to my list she goes.
GAIL –
Call me crazy but I instantly thought of Ruth Bader Ginsburg – warrior of the legal profession. Fierce, fighting for justice!!
Karin Kallmaker –
An absolute badass warrior!
Beth Goodman-Williams –
I’m incredibly fond of Xena, Queen Lucy of Narnia, Keladry of Mindelan, and Paksenarrion Dorthansdotter.
Karin Kallmaker –
Queen Lucy of Narnia – the brave and loyal! Lucy Pevensie was the first girl my age in an epic story, and I adored her.
Christine Reid –
I loved in Coventry so it has to be lady godiva and the pepping tom when you see its its beautiful
Karin Kallmaker –
I think I have to make that pilgrimage. I’ve not been to that part of England.
Cheryl H –
Xena comes to mind first. Evelyn Wang from Everything Everywhere All at Once and historically, Joan of Arc.
Karin Kallmaker –
Wasn’t Evelyn Wang amazing? Such a great movie – some bits were cringe for me but it was dazzling anyway.
Sloan –
Love, love, love warrior women! I’m going to avoid the too obvious (Xena). But I will stick with fiction. Heather Rose Jones Barbara character, Kim Pritekel’s Fallon from her early online writing (the work and the name have gotten a recent update), Meghan O’Brien ‘s Janna in The Gift. Robin McKinley wrote about a wonderful pair of straight characters, Aerin and Harry Crewe.
Karin Kallmaker –
Barbara the Duelist is an amazing character, isn’t she?
Carolyn –
OMG! Pick me! Pick me! I’d be really popular if I got a copy of this for my wife. ;b
Karin Kallmaker –
When and if she gets it, I hope it worth the wait!
Lyn Denison –
Just touching on the plight of women through the ages makes me think that every single woman had to be a warrior during her lifetime. Mind you, Xena is a pretty good example.😀
Karin Kallmaker –
I think you’re right. All warriors!
June –
Linda Hamilton in the Terminator has always been a favorite.
Karin Kallmaker –
Oh yeah. Right there with you.
Shai –
Fictional would have to be Xena and Lara Croft for obvious reasons!
Non-fictional would have to be Nancy Wake aka The White Mouse. Nancy was the Gestapo’s most wanted person, and one of the most highly decorated servicewomen of WWII. Born in New Zealand, raised in Australia the woman was simply amazing! Died at the rip young age of 98!
Karin Kallmaker –
She sounds fascinating!
Kathryn Klingerman –
I remember reading a novel about Grace O’Malley, the Pirate Queen. I was in high school, and was so delighted to find out that she was a real, historical figure. She was an amazing, kick-a** warrior – I just couldn’t figure out why she trifled with men!
This was a fun exercise, trying to find the exact book that I read in the mid-70s. I did find it: “Pirate queen: The story of Ireland’s Grania O’Malley in the days of Queen Elizabeth” by Edith Patterson Meyer
Karin Kallmaker –
Sounds like you have a fun walk down memory lane. Indeed, given the freedom she worked so hard to have, one wonders why she trifled with men. 🙂
Laurie Schmid –
I have several favorites. My heart warmed on Amelia Earhart when I did a book report on her for my history class. I knew my overly tough professor had not read anything about a woman and would have less to critique on my report because of that. I also love Ruth Bader Ginsburg because of her relentless fight for equality. When I saw an RBG bobblehead on my girlfriend’s dashboard, that was one more reason to keep seeing her. I have three grandmothers, and each has been a tough warrior in different ways.
Karin Kallmaker –
All the women who came before us were warriors in some way, that’s for sure!
Glenda –
Joan of Arc was the first to come to mind, Xena for a fictional one.
Karin Kallmaker –
Xena’s fictional? No, she can’t be. Next you’ll be telling me Santa Claus isn’t real either! 😉
Penny Mabie –
Fictional – Olivia Benson, Cagney and Lacey (that leather jacket, whew, hot!), and Lyndsey Wagner as bionic woman. Real life, my Aunt Alma, who, at age 90,
was still having me type letters to every single congressional representative and Senator when she had something on her mind.
Karin Kallmaker –
That leather jacket, indeed! Your Aunt Alma sounds like an amazing woman!
Milena –
How about all women cause we all are strong when we have to be!
Karin Kallmaker –
Isn’t that the truth. We all have a warrior inside!
Lorraine Rusnack –
I love the characters in DJ Dallas’ books Aster/War and Emila/Wrath.
Karin Kallmaker –
I have to put them on my list!
Diana –
The women from The Woman King were inspiring in not only their approach to being warriors but all that many endured at a young age before becoming those warriors. Heartbreaking but amazing!
Karin Kallmaker –
I thought it was an amazing movie that didn’t shy away from how complicated the era was for African leaders.
Susan Anson-Briggs –
Michelle Obama
and Kamala Harris for representing strong, successful & vibrant women for this new age of women, being the reflection of our future by leading the way for women of our future and of course and a shout out for Rosie the Riveter
Karin Kallmaker –
100% – I’m so happy young people today have more role models than I did. When you see it in the world, you can aspire to become it.
Lynn Heilesen –
I love to watch movies with strong female leads, just rewatched GI Jane in fact. As a kid, I had a thing for the Bionic Woman, Wonder Woman with Linda Carter and also Bewitched. Yes, I’ve now dated myself.
Karin Kallmaker –
Ah, Samantha Stevens. Not as sassy as Mary Poppins, whom I adored, but still very powerful. I really liked Endora too, because she saw no need to pander to any man’s ego, and more than once told her daughter that any man who asked her to be less than she was wasn’t worth it. And Paul Lynde, we all knew there was something different about him, didn’t we? And Sam adored her gay uncle. 🙂
Sure, I remember all of that and can’t remember why I went into the garage.
Lyn Horne –
ALL the strong warrior women behind me who had the courage to put themselves in jeopardy so the women who followed would have more freedoms and opportunities.
Karin Kallmaker –
Every time I think about all those women who put their bodies on the line for the generations who followed it mostly takes my breath away.
Ruth Simon –
Fictional warrior women: Forever Carlyle and Andromache of Scythia from Greg Rucka’s comic books. He’s the only male writer I trust to write badass women warriors well.
Real-life warriors: Col. Grethe Cammermeyer and my spouse’s paternal grandmother Kedrann. Both women were nurses in the military who served in war zones.
Karin Kallmaker –
Greg Rucka really writes great women characters. I was very sad when the pandemic effectively cancelled Stumptown.