Wanda forced herself not to fidget in the saddle, she felt, no she was positive that her placement in King Dorn's peace delegation was a mistake. But, as a dedicated soldier, her place was not to question orders. General Willow herself, imposing in her burnished armor with the gold stars, had personally assigned Wanda the task. Wanda understood the reason, just not her selection. She felt that an officer should represent the Sisterhood of the Moon. At least it should not have been as poor a soldier as herself. Nonetheless, here she was, marching at the head of King Dorn's envoy.
The Sisterhood of the Moon wanted peace just as desperately as King Dorn. Their alliance with Dorn's kingdom of Sednar had not been the Sisterhood's finest hour. For one of the few times in the illustrious history of the female fighting legion, their intelligence had been in error. The Matriarchy leadership had assumed King Dorn's larger force would win handily, so, the Sisterhood negotiated a hefty tribute and threw its lot in with him, supplying a stream of highly trained and dedicated mercenaries. But the rival king, Rupert of Tirana, proved to be the superior tactician. In no time he erased his troop size deficit and had played his every step brilliantly. Sednar was now hemorrhaging troops, both in fatalities and desertions. King Dorn may have stumbled badly in this would be war of conquest, but he understood that a distasteful peace, even without honor, was better than total defeat and a life in exile.
Behind Wanda, the train of wagons loaded with tribute and gold. All hoped that King Rupert would prefer material wealth to pushing for the inevitable military rout. Wanda reflected that for the Sisterhood of the Moon, defeat would be especially galling. The Daughters of Selene, the Goddess of the Moon, had never known defeat. Although they were, technically, only allies of Sednar, the Sisterhood's commanders would go to any lengths to save face. To chalk up the entire military misadventure as a draw was the desire of the entire command structure of the Sisterhood.
Wanda believed that was why she had been selected. The idea of General Willow, or any other Sisterhood commander for that matter, having to eat crow in the presence of a military rival was too nauseating for any of them to contemplate. That that rival was male and patriarchal made that nausea especially bitter. Better one of the most disciplined Sergeants in the entire female army swallow that gorge than an actual authority figure. Wanda considered the promotion she was sure to earn for this onerous duty. That pleased her, a little. Not that it would help her catch up to her sister. Again, Wanda wished she was as talented as Bonnie.
Wanda remembered it all, sneaking with her older sister out of their house in the middle of the night to make the arduous hike to the nearest Sisterhood stockade. Both she and Bonnie thought it the best decision they could make. Their mother's sudden death had sent their father into a dark depression which he tried to counter with drink. When he was drunk, he would sometimes beat his daughters. In his grief, the farm began to fail around him, causing his mood to darken even more. Bonnie explained that soon, if things continued, their father would trade his daughters, despite their tender ages, for even the cheapest dowry offered. In fact, she suspected that the conversation their father had had that very day with a corpulent widowed farmer and his equally obese and repulsive son was about that very topic!
By dawn, they were in a stockade and the new world of the matriarchy. Among a mix of girls, some who had escaped similar circumstances, and others who had been left at the stockade gates as infants, Bonnie and Wanda were educated in preparation for a life of military service. Here, as in just about everything else, Bonnie outshined Wanda. The older sister got better grades in school, sang more sweetly in chapel, was better at drilling and riding. It was so frustrating for Wanda. Worse was the constant comparison by her instructors and teachers. Wanda could not help it that she was not Bonnie, why could not others see that?
Things had gotten a bit better when Bonnie was inducted into service upon the arrival of her eighteenth birthday. Despite their differences, Wanda could not help but swell with pride as she watched her beautiful fair-haired sister, looking absolutely smashing in her brand-new burnished armor ride off on her first military adventure. That her sister, a short time later, would demonstrate phenomenal bravery and be rewarded with a position at The Sisterhood's Officer Candidate School, should have made Wanda happy, but it didn't.
Out of her sister's shadow, Wanda was no longer subjected to constant comparison, but classes did not get any easier, nor did drilling or horsemanship. Still, she did well enough to pass all of classes and graduate to a military career when her eighteenth year arrived. Wanda was very grateful that she did not end up as one of the unfortunates who did not meet military muster. Those women were given plain dresses, a bit of gold for their pockets, a final blessing, and exiled to the world of men. Under those conditions, girls like Bonnie or Wanda could, most probably, adapt, but for the girls who had only known the comforting, insular world of the Matriarch stockades and schools, it was a different story.
But the Sisterhood could not afford any dead weight. Did not male armies have their rejects as well? Wanda could still recall the words of her favorite teacher on this issue, "We send them away with an education that is markedly better than they would have received among the world of men. They have been taught to adapt to new situations and to survive hardship. If they cannot survive on their own, the shame of marriage is preferable to starvation. Yes, men are inferior, but in some ways, they are irreplaceable. Without their careless and ceaseless impregnating, we would soon run short of foundlings."
Initiation, however, was everything that Wanda had hoped and expected. On the night of the first full moon after the equinox, Wanda went from cadet, to soldier. Wanda and her fellow inductees shivered naked in the dark while all the clothing they had owned as students was incinerated in a huge bonfire. One by one, each girl took her turn on the altar, where her body was anointed with sweet oil and their long hair shorn to the scalp. This was followed by a confession of sin and the ritual of female superiority.
The high priestess revealed a gold ring for every initiate. With the others, Wanda slid hers on and pledged her life to Selene. The goddess of the moon was now their bride, their protector, and their source of inner strength and constant pride. Lastly, Wanda bit her lip and suppressed her sounds of discomfort as the tattoo, depicting the four phases of the moon and the word "Selene" written in mystical script, was incised on her right thigh.
After a slow march about the temple, Wanda and the other girls were led indoors to receive their swords, inner silks, as well as a handshake from the commanding general. There was spiked punch, cake and delicacies. In the morning, they would be measured for their armor, but first ... A trim, attractive ebony-haired Lieutenant struck up a conversation with Wanda. The newly initiated soldier thought that, with her butchered hair, she must look horrid, but the Lieutenant replied, "You are quite beautiful, even with it cut so short, your red hair is quite fetching."
It was the first time Wanda had heard anyone, aside from her late mother, call her beautiful. Later that night, the lieutenant led Wanda to her quarters. The young soldier had had perhaps too much punch, but she avidly responded to the officer's embrace and kisses. Wanda could not recall the process by which both had ended up naked, but she was quite aware of the Lieutenant's lean, compact body with its flat tummy, perky breasts and ebony triangle, and above all her heady aroma and the sense of intoxication well beyond what the punch had supplied.
