Tears sprung into the young woman's hazel eyes as the ends of the whip sliced through her back.

Fwap!

The whip came from the other side this time. The deer hide thongs were tipped with small, sharp stones that cut and dragged along her tanned skin; up to six thongs were tied up into the bound handle of one whip.

Fwap!

The broken nails of her dirty fingers pressed into the boulder in an effort to keep her from moving forward. Flecks of new and old blood spotted the pocked rock; flesh sacrifices to the war god, Eoin, for over a century.

Don't cry out, Kindra Odion, don't you dare make a sound, she thought stubbornly to herself as she prepared for the next blow. Searching her mind she tried to remember how many strokes the man before her had taken before being allowed to come away from the boulder to stand in the sea of bodies at the base of the cliff. Six? Nine? Before she could land assuredly on a number the whips came down again and she gritted her teeth and bit her tongue to keep silent.

Fwap!

They were nearing the end of the chant she had heard them repeat three times already, and would hear at least five times more. There were nine of them being whipped at the bottom of the large cliff; they had been lined up each to wait their turn as they watched the others ripped into with the deer hide thongs. The first to go was always the weakest, and Kindra found a bit of pride in being fourth.

Fwap!

The final whip had only one thick thong, tipped graciously with a large arrowhead. The men whipping her had the advancements of metal at their disposal, and Kindra thanked the war god, Eoin, that ceremony dictated the use of traditional stone tips for the whippings.

The chant eased into silent apprehension as the crowd waited for her response. Had it been too much for the young woman? Would she collapse from the pain and blood loss or turn to face them as the other three had, full of fiery life and ready to fight?

Kindra Odion slowly took her aching fingers from the boulder and stretched them, before turning to the smiling men with the whips.

For Eoin's grace I gladly bare
the sacrifice that bore me here,
to face the rock and whips of thee
unsheltered by the gods of three,
so that today for them I stand
before you as my own grown man.

Ending with an ironic smile at the last line, Kindra Odion thought the creators of the ancient chant had never anticipated a woman joining the ranks of the Warrior's of Fie Eoin.