Brena
By the time Brena realized the shadows rushing at her were men, it was too late to escape.
The warriors charged out from behind the giant stones. They overwhelmed the Tavaedies and Zavaedies who were keeping vigil at the top of the Tor.
Brena had not fought hand-to-hand since she was her daughters' age. But she did her best. A big man with a thick chest charged at her. She rolled under him, came up behind him, and smashed her wooden mask on his head. It was the only weapon she had.
All around her, the other Yellow Bear and Rainbow Labyrinth Tavaedies were also fighting, but they were outnumbered. She saw Abiono kill one of the attackers—then two more men knocked him down and tied him up.
She heard heavy footsteps behind her. More were coming.
She threw her mask at the next attacker's face. Then she turned and ran—
—straight into another enemy warrior.
For a second, she saw blue eyes, black hair, tattoos on his face and chest, and a body full of muscle. He let out a deep, frightening sound.
Then the man with arms like tree trunks grabbed her and tossed her over his shoulder.
Her hair, no longer pinned under the mask, spilled out in damp curls.
He carried her across the clearing and threw her down next to one of the megaliths. There, other Blue Waters warriors were gathering their prisoners.
Brena tried to hit him, but her swing was slow and weak. He caught her wrist easily and twisted it behind her. With one quick move, he caught her other arm and tied both wrists together.
He smiled at her like a boy who had played a trick.
But he wasn't a boy. He was a warrior, probably a Zavaedi, in his prime. His muscles were strong. His body had many scars from old battles. Like all Blue Waters warriors, he had shaved his head except for a line of braids on one side. Each small braid was a kill. He had too many to count.
A tattoo of a salmon and three moons marked his cheek. It showed which clan he had married into. He had a wife, maybe children.
More prisoners were brought in, tied up and surrounded by enemies. Brena looked around. No one had escaped.
And she had not heard any alarm horns from the valley.
Why are they keeping us alive? she wondered.
The answer came soon.
The war leader, an ugly man with a seagull tattoo on his cheek, paced in front of the captives.
"Tell us how to enter the kiva under this place," said Gull Face.
A chill ran over Brena's skin. No one spoke.
Gull Face had expected this. He turned to the man who had captured Brena.
"You earned first pick, Rthan. What about this one?" He grabbed a young female Tavaedi by the hair.
Rthan did not answer. He walked past the girl and stood over Brena.
"This one," he said.
"Suit yourself," said Gull Face. He moved on to choose more prisoners.
Rthan dragged Brena across the clearing to one of the standing stones. Her wrists were still tied in front of her. He threw the rope over the top of the stone and pinned it into the ground with his spear.
The rope pulled tight. Brena stood on tiptoe, arms stretched above her head.
Rthan held up a shell knife. "Don't make me do this," he said.
"You should be ashamed! You're murdering innocent children!"
"They won't be children when they leave the kiva," he said. "Better to kill cubs before they grow into full bears."
His eyes were cold. "Your people kill our children. Even the babies. We're only killing those who might become dangerous."
He touched the knife to her throat and slid it down.
Brena flinched and closed her eyes. She expected pain—but felt only cool air on her skin.
He was cutting away her Tavaedi robes, one layer at a time.
The cloth fell to the ground in strips. Underneath, she still wore her breechcloth and breastbands.
"You're an animal!" she spat.