Amara Bennett's Arc

Chapter 6 of 13

Morning came, and the camp waited on Amara. The leader was gone. But some raiders still did not trust a small woman to lead them into a fight. She heard it near the food store, where men stacked crates of salt pork by a fat, buckle-strapped pig. "She's half my size," one man said. "How does she hold a line?" The others laughed. They would not follow her until she proved she could. Amara did not argue. She walked to the food store and climbed onto a crate so they could see her. "You think size wins fights," she said. "It doesn't. Come to the old battle field at noon. Bring your doubts. I'll answer them there." By noon they gathered at the broken ground where the last clash had left cracked earth and buried blades. Shields lay split among the rocks. Jin-Ho stood at the edge, arms crossed, his scarred face still. He had vouched for her twice before the whole camp. Now he watched to see if she could stand on her own. The loudest doubter stepped out. He was a head taller than Amara and twice as wide. "No knives," she said. "Grip only. Put me down or I put you down." He grinned and lunged. She dropped low, took his wrist, and turned into his weight. His own force threw him past her. He hit the dirt hard and lay stunned among the shields. The camp went quiet. Amara pinned his arm behind his back. "A regime officer is bigger than me too," she said. "I've put down worse than you. Size is a target, not a shield." She let him up. He rubbed his shoulder and did not laugh now. A second man tried her. She used his rush the same way and dropped him beside the first. Then a third. Each fell faster. She did not tire and she did not gloat. "I won't out-muscle the regime," she told them. "Neither will you. We win by seeing what they don't. That's what I bring." Jin-Ho uncrossed his arms. "I rode behind her to kill her once," he said. "She read a convoy to the minute. Now she reads you. Follow her." His word landed on top of hers, and the last mutters died. The tall doubter got to his feet and looked at his own men. Then he faced Amara and lowered his head. "We follow," he said. One by one the others did the same. Amara stood among the fallen shields and knew the camp was hers to command. But she saw the plump pig in its harness and the near-empty crates behind it. Winter was coming, and the raiders looked to her now for food, not just fights. Leading them meant she had to feed them through the cold. That problem waited for her next.