Matilde

Two years had passed since the last time Matilde had looked upon Eudora’s face; it had been tear-stained then, her obsidian eyes puffy and her lashes sticking together into dainty points.

Matilde’s fault, she knew.

Her vicious words had struck at Eudora without rhyme or reason. She didn’t agree or believe in a single sentence that flew from her mouth that day, but her frustration had bubbled to the surface and there seemed no other method of release than to unleash a torrent of poisonous verbal attacks on her once-lover.

There were no tears painting her cheeks now, though. Now her face was slimmer, age having refined her features and removed the roundness of her cheeks, her perfect brown complexion had not changed. She sat rigidly upon her horse watching Matilde with a stern, if slightly cautious, expression.

Matilde spoke few words and soon forgot most of them once they had ridden away, but she knew she had said her name. The after-taste of the word lingering on her tongue long after they had parted. Dora. How shameful of her to call her by a pet name after their last encounter, she had no right to speak affectionately to her. It had been a fair while since she last allowed herself to be consumed by the shame of her last memories with Eudora, of her terrible behaviour and degrading words. She sighed quietly.

Matilde believed in no gods, spirits or deities, but could stretch her imagination to the thought that perhaps deserved bad luck had brought her ex-lover to her group’s rescue in that damp and lumpy field.

Kali had been far too relaxed with Eudora and her group - one might think she had even been enjoying the tension within their circle of steeds. There was a clock ticking in the back of Matilde’s mind, awaiting the inevitable probing or childish comment from the lithe blonde, counting every second of peace and quiet she was allowed as they continued their ride through the crowded and twisted trees which surrounded the town of Celandine. A moist forest spanned at least thirty acres deep from any side of the tiny town.

It was unprecedented for the little minx to have not attempted to raise morale for an entire hour. Kali’s almost-magical ability to lift spirits was welcomed by Matilde and Dani most days as neither of them were the overly-talkative or excitable type, but at times like this Matilde begged within her mind for silence to prevail and allow her to get her thoughts together.

Corn mint peeked out from around the roots of trees, narrowly avoiding growing into one another and ground elder coated the forest floor like a white fur rug that their horses’ hooves dirtied with the sharp grooves they left behind revealing the soft mud and grass beneath. Celandine’s forest was the perfect protection for the town, so wild and overgrown it could slow the approach of any man, woman or beast. Their horses were struggling already, treading between high twisting roots at the speed of a babe taking its first steps.

“You’ve never mentioned Dora before.” Kali stated casually, her hips swinging as she rode in her strange, freestyle method that should really have bent her spine out of joint by now. She had managed to squeeze herself in line with Matilde, swerving between trunks and ducking beneath branches, despite Matilde clearly leading along the easier route for the safety of her party and their many equestrian legs.

Matilde sighed loudly this time, that Kali would hear her displeasure. It did not ward the little blonde off.

“I have ridden with many women,” she answered with as much disinterest as she could feign.

“How many women have you ridden?”

Matilde barely suppressed a third sigh, she knew at the time that she would regret the night she gave in to temptation and threw Kali down upon her bedding roll, attacking her slim body like a beast in heat. It mattered not how often they agreed their relationship was purely physical, emotions were always doomed to slip into the equation somewhere.

“I don’t have time for jealousy if that’s why you’re bringing this up,” she said sharply, hoping to shut down the conversation for good. “And her name is Eudora, only Blaire calls her Dora.”

Saying her name again pinched Matilde in the chest, she told herself her armour was simply too tight.

Kali only laughed. “And Blaire… she was the one who called you Tilly?”

Matilde grunted the affirmative.

“I’m only curious,” Kali assured her with a coy smirk. “There was an… interesting atmosphere between the two of you.”

Matilde ignored her, maintaining her forward facing gaze. Her tone had been clear, the discussion was over. She knew Kali wouldn’t be hurt by her harsh treatment - nothing could dampen the sprightly woman’s spirit. Matilde’s theory was that Kali was far too relaxed to be inflicted with the wound of hurt feelings by anyone or anything. The woman would be buried with a smile, Matilde was willing to bet gold on it.

Realising she would get not further attention, Kali fell back a few paces and began a stream of chatter to her horse about how well it was doing with the labyrinthine forest floor. Matilde ploughed her own onwards.

It was a frustrating ride to the midway point of the forest, knowing that they were so close to Celandine in terms of raw land distance but restricted by the treacherously feral nature of the area, they could not push their mounts past a walk for fear of a stumble or rogue branch. They also could not travel in a straight line, the wild layout of trunks and roots and ditches forcing them to slither back and forth like a snake narrowly avoiding its own tail.

Dani, silent as a snooze and reliable as the moon, brought up the rear as their ‘tail.’

She had had a close call with those imps and Matilde had already made the decision that they would set up camp early that night to allow her additional rest. She didn’t show a great deal in her face, her expression frozen in a blank mask twenty-four hours a day, but Matilde could sense she was shaken.

The sun had yet to set when they admitted defeat for the day. They put their boots to the soft ground and organised hammocks strung between the close-knit trees, a small fire built in a pit encircled with moss-covered stones and trip-wires set in a wide circle around their central area.

“Do you want me to cook tonight?” Kali called out as she poked unhelpfully at the growing fire with a flaking stick.

The camp responsibilities of their group had been divided long ago. Matilde took care of areas such as erecting tents, leading formation and firewood collection; Kali was assigned cleaning and mending of armour and clothes, morale boosting and setting traps; Dani prepared and cooked meals.

Matilde paused to watch the exchange.

Dani glanced between them for a moment or two then returned to the ingredients she was unpacking from her saddlebags. “I’m fine,” she said quietly.

“I know that!” Kali laughed awkwardly, “I just thought you might enjoy being wined and dined by a beautiful woman.”

“Where do you plan to find one?” Matilde asked.

“That’s as much an insult to you as it is to me.”

Matilde couldn’t help but wonder if there was a reference to their more and more frequent couplings underneath her obvious reply.

“I’m going to build up a supply of wood for the fire, try to stay out of Dani’s way,” she ordered.

Kali saluted with a grin. “Yes, m’lady.”

Matilde stepped over the tripwires she had set and squeezed between the trees with a grunt. Even without her armour, she was no green bean. Navigating the tangled mess of forest floor quickly ran her patience thin, or rather, walked it thin as she could barely move above a snail’s pace through the twisted and knotted roots. The untamed beauty of the woods was undeniable, but it was incredibly hard to absorb when you were at risk of losing a foot or being thwacked in the face.

Progress was being made though, Kali’s nattering had faded in volume; with a good few trees between them, she could no longer hear the exact words being spoken. It didn’t matter, it was no doubt for Dani’s benefit anyway. Although those that hadn’t known Kali long understandably assumed she was simply talkative, Matilde had listened enough to realise that the majority of the speaking she did was actually for the relief of others: whether to offer them something, lighten their mood, comfort them, or to keep awkward silence at bay.

Adding to the slow acquisition of suitable firewood was the gentle drizzle that had lasted the better part of the day: unnoticeable when it first landed on their skin in the early hours of the morning, leaving them with a sweat-like shine after an hour or so, smudging Kali’s intricate eye paint by their second meal, now it had infiltrated the tightly-woven canopy of leaves and branches above Matilde’s head and dampened the top layer of branches and twigs scattered about the ground. She had to resort to digging beneath them like a pig searching for truffles for dry, burnable wood.

Once a hefty bundle of branches sat on her shoulder, Matilde began picking her way back to base. First, she headed in a rough estimate of the direction she felt she had come from, expecting Kali’s chatter to act as a cow bell for the final stretch. It wasn’t long before the scent of onions frying in oil, and carrots, potatoes and parsnips boiling, permeated the area and had her following like a horse on a leadrope.

Matilde stepped gingerly back over the tripwires encircling their camp as Kali was taste-testing a bubbling broth from a spoon held out by Dani.

She smacked her lips appreciatively and put a hand to her chest.”Magnificent as always, Dani, my dear!” she announced.

Dani gave only a small smile in response and returned the spoon to the pot, stirring the mixture gently. Her topknot rocked a little on her head as she worked and the design shaved into her undercut had become slightly unclear with the light rain that had slicked the short hairs down in a variety of directions. It was supposed to be a flower with layers of petals, but to the unknowing eye it currently appeared to be a geometric tornado.

Kali had pulled her own soggy hair into a low ponytail, maintaining her permanent middle parting that showed her dark roots.

Matilde approached the pair.

“Enjoy your dump?” Kali called from her seat on a root the height of a dog.

The strange question halted Matilde in her tracks. “Pardon?”

“You were gone so long we assumed you were taking a shit.”

Dani nodded at the pot she was tending. “Like a bear,” she added sagely.

“Very funny,” Matilde huffed, dropping her collection of twigs and branches beside her hammock.

“Dani says supper will be ready in about an hour,” Kali informed her with a grin.

“What else does Dani say?” Matilde asked sourly. She had held a suspicion for many moons that their short-haired companion spoke far more when she wasn’t present as Kali seemed to be frequently speaking on her behalf. Dani could speak when she was inclined to, but that was not often.

“That you smell like you’ve just taken a hot shit.”

Dani and Matilde simultaneously protested, “I do not!”

Kali laughed to herself, falling back against a tree trunk and scrabbling for purchase against the wet bark. Once she managed to right herself, she asked, “Anyone got anything that needs mending or sharpening or can I take a nap?” She flicked the blonde tail of her tied hair over her shoulder, it thwacked her back, soggy.

“I welcome the closing of your eyes and mouth,” Matilde answered with a grim smile.

“Sleep well,” Dani mumbled.

Kali blew a kiss and swung into her hammock messily, leaving one slender leg dangling from the side.

With nothing better to do, Matilde poked and prodded at the fire, doing her best to help rather than hinder Dani’s cooking. When their pheasant was finally mounted over the flames, her mouth began to water from the smell. Often she found that riding all day left her hungrier and wearier than fighting, the monotonous movement and strain of holding her body in the same position for hours on end somehow draining her energy. Whenever she shared this opinion Kali would always laugh, she claimed southerners all rode like she did and that’s why they never got saddle-sore or aching backs. Matilde reckoned if she attempted to ride swing-style like a southerner she would have a broken back to worry about rather than an aching one.

The sun set and their dinner was dished out generously, Dani heaping their bowls with meat, vegetables and stew with little preamble, and they gathered together around the fire to eat. The crackle and pops of the flames disintegrating Matilde’s hard-earned wood made a comforting musical accompaniment to the sounds of utensils bumping bowls and the slurping of soup.

Once their dishes were clean and packed away, Kali patrolled their camp, giving each trap a final check, and Matilde hoisted cloth coverings over their hammocks. They had hoped the dribbles of water scurrying down the tree branches would cease by nightfall, but it seemed now they would be waking up wet-faced as there had been no break for the droplets journeying to the forest floor.

The fire would keep them warm and dry long enough to fall into their dreams though, they could worry about their damp blankets in the morning.