different view.’
Kaira frowned. As compassionate as Daedla’s words were, Kaira knew they were impractical. However good the intentions, pride and benevolence would always, ultimately, be subordinated to survival. The plague had certainly taught that. The Temple of Autumn and its Shieldmaidens had been quarantined during the scourge of the Sweet Canker, to avoid the sickness that would leave the place defenceless. Some of Arlor’s Daughters had been allowed through the gates to minister to the sick, but none had been allowed to return in case they contaminated the Temple. When the plague was over, most of them were dead.
Despite her expressed compassion, Daedla had not been one of those who had gladly sacrificed herself to bring solace to the sick.
‘What brings you to the courtyard, Daedla?’ asked Samina, impatiently. ‘We would not want to see you tainted by our martial display.’
‘Oh, I am long past the fear of taint,’ Daedla replied with her enigmatic smile, which only served to annoy Kaira even more. ‘But the Matron Mother has summoned you.’
‘The Matron Mother?’ Kaira asked. ‘What does she want us for?’
Daedla shrugged. ‘I am simply the messenger.’
Kaira glanced at Samina, who only shot back a confused look. Quickly they made their way from the courtyard to change into their ceremonial regalia. It irked Kaira a little that they were being so hasty; Daedla was probably relishing this eagerness to respond to the Matron Mother’s call, but there was really no alternative. Though Kaira’s superior, the Exarch, was the highest ranking Shieldmaiden, and the sisters obeyed her implicitly, the Matron Mother held ultimate sway within the Temple of Autumn, and a personal summons from her was a great honour … or, on occasions, the ultimate disgrace.
‘What do you think this is about?’ Samina asked whilst placing her breastplate over the tight, silver brigandine beneath and securing the buckles.
‘I have no idea,’ Kaira replied, but the possibilities were rushing though her mind. Some kind of mission? Might they be required to leave the Temple and head to the front – to fight beside the king? Such a prospect excited her. Though defending the Temple and its inhabitants was her main duty, she relished the thought of real combat, instead of endlessly patrolling the walls of their impenetrable bastion.
Having donned their armour they strode though the Temple’s vast corridors towards the inner chapel, carrying their ceremonial helms, with their golden swords at their sides. In uniform they both intentionally mirrored the statue of Vorena. Only Samina’s dark, cropped hair and Kaira’s blonde distinguished them. Seeing their approach in full regalia, the Daughters of Arlor and the Shieldmaidens all moved aside, bowing their heads in respect.
As the two warriors reached the antechamber to the Matron Mother’s sanctum, Daedla was ready for them, two white-veiled handmaids at her side.
‘The Matron Mother awaits,’ said Daedla, beckoning towards the door. As Kaira took a step forward Daedla said, ‘If you please, sisters. Your weapons.’
It was a foolish and annoying protocol, but the Matron Mother frowned upon weapons being carried in her presence, and forbade them within her sanctum. Reluctantly Kaira and Samina unbuckled their sword belts and handed the weapons to the waiting handmaids, and with her sickly smile still plastered to her face Daedla heaved the door open, bowing her head as the Shieldmaidens strode past her and into the sanctum.
The Matron Mother sat at a massive oak desk covered in parchments. She scribbled on a piece of vellum with a long elaborate quill, whose feather danced in time to the scratching sounds. Kaira and Samina stopped before the desk as the vast lead-lined door closed behind them with a resounding thud. Moments passed and Kaira could hear her own heart beating. She stared straight ahead, standing at attention, a sentinel of discipline awaiting