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“No true chieftain would leave them to suffer,” Eddard insists.
It is true, and I feel sad that my strong Elena must go through what so obviously hurts her.
“Could your women really be so different?” she muses.
Eddard cocks his head to the side. “They are similar. Tempest women are bigger, with less fat, different skin, and stronger features.”
“Do they bleed?”
“All creatures bleed.”
“But women bleed in cycles.”
“You speak nonsense,” Eddard says, and I have to agree with him.
“This isn’t a medical issue. It’s a woman’s issue. We all go through it.”
“Elena,” I say, giving my voice an edge because it’s important that my men see me as strong and if they think I’m coddling her, things won’t go well. “If you’re saying that to spare your people, you’ll only make them suffer, and my men will not appreciate your deception.”
She chuckles. “Why would I say something that will be easily disproven over time? You’ll see. Each of us will bleed, and then we’ll do it again, and again. It’s a womanly thing. I guess your women just don’t do it.”
I turn to Eddard. “Tempest women are private. Is it possible we never knew of this plight?”
“It’s not a plight,” Elena insists. “It signifies fertility.”
Eddard’s face lights in understanding. “These women are far more fertile than our own, so maybe this is good?”
“Maybe,” I agree, but I’m still mystified. “Make sure the men know that there are to be no mercy killings and that this ‘cycling’ might be exclusive to humans.”
“It is not.” Ramsey approaches, his face grim. “Tempest women have their own cycles. It’s never talked about.”
I’m shocked that Ramsey would know this, but if anyone would, it would be him, as he was so favored.
Eddard stalks off to warn the others, and Ramsey hands Elena a piece of bruntler.
“You helped with the kill. You should be of the first to partake. I’ve already given your companions helpings.”
She almost thanks him, but shuts her mouth when she catches herself. She takes a small bite, then a large one. I love seeing her nourished, though I know I shouldn’t. It’s very possible her womb will not take my seed, and perhaps that’s a good thing. Weak children are…heartbreaking.
“Say goodnight to your people. We have things to do.”
“Like what? I’m exhausted.”
“And you’re filthy.”
“I’ll take a dip in the ocean before bed.”
“Nonsense. There’s a hot spring not too far from here.”
Her face lights in elation. “That sounds divine.”
She runs off, and I see that Fenrick is looking at me with jealous eyes, which is good because it will only help my cause.
When we were sent here, to this miserable place, we knew we’d never mate again. Women were never exiled, no matter how dastardly their crimes. And there were many.
Our only joy is our battles against the Veriskans, the other exiles that competed for resources and land. But conflict with them is rare.
Perhaps these women can give us life anew. Not like what we had before, but something different entirely. New things to occupy our time, our energy, and our hearts.
