Turning
No more needless deaths, I had vowed. Not while I live. Blades kill girls as easily as warriors, and it hurts none the less. Fortune’s circle (and father’s favor) smiled, and my shieldmaidens became forces to notice and take pride in.
Now the circle turns to a hard winter bringing death and battle. I look around the square, half ashamed. Cwen and Geliefan are beside me, with their steadfast, unspoken loyalty.
Your fault, my people’s silence accuses. Our sentence of exile to the Deep is because of you.
She is innocent, the silence of my shield-sisters retorts. She is innocent.
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March 25, 2005. Instant drabbled: notice, square, sentence (missed on ritual).