[Intro — distant war drums, low male choir, wind through hills] Three suns had risen since the men had gone, Beyond the hills where the battle raged on. The village slept beneath gray skies, With mothers praying and children wide-eyed. Then a boy on the watchtower cried— “MEN ON THE ROAD! THEY'RE COMING THIS WAY!” Forty iron-clad beneath wolf banners, Marching toward us by break of day. [Drums begin pounding] “Gather the children! Gather the old! Take them beneath where the roots grow cold! Take every child who can carry the small— Hide in the earth till we hear our call!” Fifteen women stood in the square, Mothers and daughters, sisters there, Cousins and neighbors, shoulder to shoulder, With husbands' weapons in their holsters. They took the swords. They took the spears. They took the axes left behind. Then stripped away their clothing, And painted war upon their skin. Mud on their faces. Red across their breasts. Hair torn wild from their heads. Teeth bared beneath the painted red. They stood like beasts from the oldest stories, Jaws thrust forward, eyes burning glory. And forty soldiers who'd marched that morning Suddenly questioned whether this was right. [Music drops — only one deep drum] No word was spoken. No blade was raised. The soldiers stared. The women stared. One soldier stepped backward. Then another. Then three. [Whispered female chant] “Go on…” “Go on…” “Turn and run…” [Silence] Then the smallest woman of them all Stepped from the line, an axe held high. Her voice cracked across the sky— “KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL!” [EXPLOSION OF DRUMS — bagpipes, horns, chanting] And fifteen women charged! KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL! Screaming like wolves beneath the moon, Laughing as though the gods had come. Fifteen wild hearts, fifteen blades, A storm of women out of the glade! The front rank broke! Then the next! Then men who'd sworn they'd never flee Turned their backs and ran to see If forty armored warriors could outrun Fifteen mad mothers having fun! Line by line! Rank by rank! The iron wall began to crack! One man stumbled— Three men fled— Then every soldier turned and ran! RUN, YOU COWARDS! RUN! RUN! RUN! The women chased them down the road, Axes high and weapons broad. Their battle cries shook field and stone, Till armored backs were specks alone. They chased them past the ancient trees, Past standing stones and bending reeds, Until the last of the army fled Beyond the hills where the mountains spread. [Music suddenly stops] Silence. Fifteen women stood there. Breathing hard. Covered in mud. Painted red. Weapons in hand. [One woman snorts] Another started laughing. Then another. Then— THEY ALL LAUGHED! [Drums return, faster and triumphant] They laughed till they fell upon the ground, At forty warriors running from their sound. They laughed at swords they'd never swung, At battle cries from ancient tongues. The children crept from hiding places, Old men stared with astonished faces. And one small boy looked up and said, “Did we win?” The smallest woman wiped mud from her brow. She grinned. “Aye.” [Final chorus — full female choir] KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL! THAT'S WHAT WE SHOUTED— AND WATCHED THEM FALL! Not one was slain. Not one was dead. They only fled. They only fled. KILL THEM ALL! KILL THEM ALL! Fifteen women beneath the sky! Forty warriors learned to fly! And when the village asked them why— They laughed. THEY LAUGHED! [Final war drum — silence]
