Sisterhood of the Lioness: Twenty-Three

The sadness in Meriama’s eyes was as deep as the inky reaches of the boundless sea. Forcing herself to speak loud enough for all to hear, she said, “Sabit, you have struck down a fellow Sister. Justice must be done. You have offered no defense. There must be a fitting consequence.”
The crowd awaited her next words with an eager silence. Sabit held her chin high. Her face was a mask of resolve as Meriama continued, “You shall be taken from this compound, never to return. You shall be cast out of this Sisterhood, never again to be welcomed. To each and every member of the Sisterhood, you shall be like one who has died. Begone!”
Meriama turned away, her eyes damp. The crowd gathered below the platform parted to form a clear path to the gate. As Sabit made her way through the courtyard, each Sister turned her back to the spear woman. Women she had called friends two days before now refused to meet Sabit’s gaze.
At the outer gate, hunters of the Pride had gathered. As Sabit stepped outside, they worked together to close the massive wooden gate. The duty of fastening the portal fell to the eager, young hunter who had faced Sabit—her swollen, broken jaw giving her face a perpetual sneer of loathing.
The sound of the wooden bar clattering into place echoed in the air. Sabit stood outside the gate for a long time. As the sun drooped low in the west, Sabit turned her back on the place she had—for too brief a moment—felt as though she belonged.

Wayfarings of Sabit: Sisterhood of the Lioness is copyright (c) 2017 by Michael S. Miller. All rights reserved. New chapters post every weekday. You can support this and other stories on Patreon: or