Sparrows in the Wind by Gail Carson Levine

Author:Gail Carson Levine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2022-07-19T00:00:00+00:00

2

Pen chooses eleven others to fight with us, among them Lannip, Serag, Zelke, and Khasa. The Trojans seem satisfied. I’m untested, but everyone else is a seasoned warrior. The unchosen in the band will wait for us to come back.

At dawn, we’re ready to leave, though the others are just beginning to sit up in their wagons.

Each of us warriors—including me!—has a skin flask of koumiss, a sack of dried meat: rabbit, deer, squirrel—not my ibex, which is still fresh. We’ll hunt as we go and drink raw milk when the koumiss runs out.

My gorytos is slung across my shoulder. From my wide leather belt hang my shield and my other weapons: battle-ax, spear, and sword. I used the spear once to fend off a lion, which I failed to kill—and vice versa.

Pen gives me Tall Brown to ride. We have two kinds of horses: tall and short. Short are best for milk and are fine for rides when speed doesn’t matter. Tall Brown, no longer in first youth, is fleet and used to battle.

The morning is more winter than spring, and I’m glad for the felt lining under my leather tunic. Scales made of bits of horses’ hooves are sewn into the leather. Amazon tunics are as good as metal armor for turning swords.

I’m not so cold, though, that I want the leopard skin blanket that’s draped behind my felt saddle.

The two Trojans are wrapped in wool cloaks they call himations. We set off at a trot. I pull my felt hat down to cover my ears. The sunrise is behind us. The sky is pale, cloudless, broken only by a circling hawk. How lucky I am. Thank you, Cybele.

Pen says the Trojans and Greeks worship the same gods and goddesses and are forever begging for favors. When she says this, she makes her voice whiny: “Zeus, please win this war for me. Ares, please give me a beautiful shield. Demeter, please keep the rain off my head.”

We thank Cybele for what we have and don’t ask her for anything. After all, she already gave us our grasslands, our horses, our strength, and our roaming natures. The rest is up to us.

When an Amazon is dying in battle, Cybele comes. The Amazons nearby see her, a huge, granite-colored woman with thick, curling red locks. Pen has seen the goddess three times, and Cybele has always said the same words, in a rich, warm voice: “You will fight on my side now. Thank you for your courage. Your friends will miss your arrows.”

Once Cybele has spoken, we know our warrior will be safe, though we mourn her. If he’s still alive, we slay her killer.

Pen trots to me. “Rin . . .” Her face is serious.

We ride together silently before she speaks. We’re all spread out, except the two Trojans, who ride shoulder-to-shoulder as if they were yoked together.

“Rin . . .” She’s silent again.

Is she going to tell me she’s changed her mind about letting me go to battle?

“Rin, how was it when you killed the ibex?”

I don’t know what she means.

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