Spies, Thieves, and Revolutionaries

Chapter 1

Rewritten

Edited by @RKaspen

~~

Dinah entered the tent and sat on an old maroon and yellow rug. Once, it
was bright and beautiful, but now the colors have faded and it was just a
shadow of its past self. Dinah tried not to think of what that had reminded
her of. She hummed a tune as she fiddled with the decorations of her
elaborate, yellow and red cotton robes.

"Keep still and quiet," a voice
snapped. It was old, balding Banajan. Tall and weedy, with only a puff of
gray hair on his sun-darkened head. A servant of Dinah's grandmother;
everyone in the Tribe wondered how he was still alive. Dinah was startled.
He was sitting in a dimly lit corner of the tent, and she had not noticed
him at first. Dinah resisted the urge to sigh. Always sticking his nose in
everyone's business, always disapproving. She couldn't wait until Virech, the god of death, visited Banajan. He was way past his due.

She leaned back against an embroidered pillow and rested her feet on an imported rug.
Brightly colored, with high canvas ceilings and handmade decorations, the Receiving Tent provided a welcoming and comfortable feel.

Suddenlt, the tent flap flew open and in came Amiri, Dinah's mother, the Matriarch. With her flowing, beautiful purple and red robes, intelligent gaze, determined golden brown eyes and cocoa-colored skin, she stood tall, her chin raised proudly. One would assume that she was a queen of a powerful and prospering nation, not a Matriarch of a starving and dying Southern Tribe. Dinah longed for her confidence. Behind her, trailed Dinah's sister Estre, a smaller, duller, version of her mother, dressed in the traditional blue and gray of a second daughter.

Dinah opened her eyes as her mother and sister sat on the rug, across from Dinah. She sat back up and smiled at them. Her mother smiled back while Estre looked away with a scowl. Dinah bit back a sigh. Her sister had never forgiven her for the crime of being born first and inheriting
the Matriarchy.

"Dinah, I trust that you've been well. There's no time to waste, so I'll get straight to the point. You have been under the Matriarchal training for years, and as you know, the final test approaches." Amiri said.

Dinah nodded. In the Matriarchal Tribe of Calacattah, the title of Matriarch passed down from
mother to eldest daughter, but all daughters were trained for it. At the end of her training, the eldest would have to pass a test to prove her ability to the title. If she failed, the second eldest would try, and so on.

Estre, who was only two years younger than Dinah, had been after the Matriarchy ever since she learned of the rule.

"You have seen the state that our tribe is in," Amiri continued, "We need help, and desperately. Twelve years ago, the king promised us food and protection for our best warriors. He has not yet delivered on the promise, and I will need you to...remind him."

Dinah raised an eyebrow, "You want me to beg him for help?" Estre snorted, and Dinah shot her a glare.

The Matriarch's shoulders slumped, as if tired with the weight of her responsibilities. "The tribe's survival comes before its pride, daughter. You'll take a carriage there, and I'll give you some money for food and a horse back. Know that not only does your inheritance depend on this, but also if our people live or die."

Dinah looked at Amiri, straight into her eyes. "I understand, mother. I will succeed."

Amiri sighed, her stoic resolve faded away as she realized she was sending her daughter into a battlefield alone. "May the gods make it so. Just...please, be careful."
~
Dinah got out of her carriage, shaded her eyes against the scorching autumn sun, and gaped at the giant golden palace of the king. It rose to the sky, and she could see it from half the city away. Giant stone pillars stood on either side of the gate. The palace was beautiful, most of it being solid gold, and decorated with jewels and stones. Looking at it, Dinah's questions of where everyone's tax money was going were answered.