Ember of a New World (20 page)

With such sour thoughts, Ember drifted away from her fifth day as a slave to these men. She considered her promise of death to the older man and the poisoning of the food. What had this done to her? Killing in defense of yourself or others was morally permissible by her people, but until this moment she hadn't actually considered the actual act of killing. She was causing, had actually set into motion, the possible death of two men!

Every day I die a little mysel
f. You sons of wolves. No more!
she thought
.
She promised herself that
there would be no sixth night.

Ember awoke with
an
impact of a blanket in her face. She soon realized her hands were freed, and she was sitting in a pile of the three woven mat blankets the men had slept on the night before. Normally, the men woke her and then had her clean and pack the bedding. For some reason, they had each awoken before Ember and were now preparing themselves. The oldest man gestured at her in a gruff accent, using the word “clean”, which she understood. Ember stared back at the man with an angry glare and dared him to force her. He glared at her for a moment and then suddenly came at her like a wild boar! Ember stood and held her ground even as he swiped his arm backhanding her across the face. She saw stars and truly felt like crying out, but she held her tongue and her gaze. The man's rage suddenly left his face and he began to laugh at her with fervency. The laughter unnerved Ember, but she knew she had played her resistance far enough. She turned her head away from the burly man and picked up the mats. She had come so fast from sleep to being struck across the face that she had not noticed the change in the men. The older man looked uncomfortable, and the blonde haired man was nowhere to be seen.

What's the matter old man? Your friends going off into the woods sick and you don't know why? I do...
,
she thought
.
Could her plan be working? Ti
me would tell.

During the last five days since Ember had reluctantly joined the group, the men had traveled in a north westerly direction moving with the Great River and towards the setting of the sun. Ironically, she was making good progress in the direction of her quest. The general lay of the land began to slowly change from green and flat to slightly less green and much more rolling. The slight rises in the land were replaced with great hills and open fields. The journey west was actually somewhat beneficial, circumstances aside, but Ember just couldn't understand why these men were traveling so far. Ember was unfamiliar with such men who would journey so many days to hunt. She knew
merchants,
who journeyed so far, but they carried their wares and occasionally a few animals in trade but these men were armed f
or hunting with no such wares.

As she cleaned the mats at the river, she noticed the blonde man. He was sitting against a tree behind a large bush making gasping noises and shuddering. She could not see what he was doing and the sounds he made were quite expressive. Ember couldn't care the less if he died there.

Hopefully a large snake is biting him in the...,
wait;
he's suffering from the rabbit!
She thought. That would explain the shudders and the noises. The blonde haired man had the runs and was relieving himself behind the tree. Ember smiled as she washed the mats. Once the effect started, she had seen bad food kill a man
before;
he wouldn't make it more than a few days if he lived.
Sometimes
the poisoned food wasn't deadly, and a fire and lots of water helped the person live. What worried Ember was the lack of the old man showing symptoms. Perhaps he hadn't eaten the poisoned areas, or perhaps he was too nasty for even the rabbit's entrails. Ember nearly let out a giggle, the first truly amusing though
t she had in perhaps fo
u
r days.

When
she packed up the last mat, the blonde haired man returned. She had heard him called “Calpano” or something close to that. Calpano, if that was his name, was slightly pale looking and with a great sweat. The other men gathered their belongings and loaded a freshly bound Ember with two satchels for that day's journey. Ember was tired of being a beast of burden and knew the time was upon her. Tonight, she would make her escape. The worst case would be if the older man did not become ill. Either way, she could be sure she had removed any long-term chase. The men simply would not be able to chase her too far with at least one of them beco
ming more ill as the day went by
.

During the day, Calpano
did beco
me sicker and sicker. Twice he had stopped and vomited, and as many times he had suddenly run off into the trees only to return a while later, paler than before. The old man had looked a little ill as well, but he had shown nothing more than a lack of interest in lunch and a few uneasy looks. Ember could not tell yet if he was suffering from the rabbit or
was
j
ust tired from a long journey.

At dusk of
her
sixth day in captivity
,
Ember sat very still watching the young dark haired man, Pak, filling himself on pieces of dried tubers. Calpano had taken to lying on the ground and groaning while the older
man
seemed to preoccupy himself with staring at Ember inappropriately or yelling at the youngest man. Ember had to make her move, and now she awaited a mistake by one of the men.

Days of patient waiting suddenly paid off, when the youngest member of the group removed a piece of flint from his pouch and used it to cut the tuber he was eating. Not long after he started, a large sliver of flint broke off of the piece the young man used. He scooped up the large flint fragment, inadvertently leaving a few small slivers. With a frown, he examined the larger broken piece and replaced it
in his pouch. Ember saw this.

After a short time, Ember was ordered to tend the fire for the men as they sat and told each other what sounded like stories. Calpano
seemed
a little better, having emptied everything in
him
along that
day’s
short trip, though he was still pale and shaking now and then. He wouldn't chase Ember far. Now she merely had to do something with the other two. While poking at the fire with a small stick, Ember found the small shard of flint which the younger man had obviously overlooked. Her pulse quickened as she remembered how sharp such shards could be. Ember knew that when her hands were tied at night, she would be checked to ensure she didn't have anything to help her escape. She stood thanking the Gods for taking her boots from her, even though her feet were now adorned by blisters and hurts from walking barefoot. Ember carefully slipped the fragment between her big toe and other toes. She dispassionately walked to the tree to be bound for sleep. The oldest man seemed to be pleased by the look on her face.

Does he think he has broken me?
she wondered.

“Oh no, no you haven't broken me old man
,”
she whispered.

The oldest man came over to Ember and stared at her from head to toe, spending a little bit too long in certain places, before binding her hands rather roughly. This was definitely a good night to escape Ember thought. He stood again and said something to the youngest man, who was now trying to sleep. Ember supposed that he was going to go relieve himself away from the camp. He had done this nearly every night so far. Ember hoped she could finish her escape before his return. She had wanted to escape at night while the men slept or let the rabbit kill the
two worst men, but she saw the
hungry look in the old
man’s
eyes and knew the time had come. She would have to settle for the sick man and the absent man, leaving only her ropes and the younger man to deal with. He would be gone for a while, for he liked to take his time at some tasks, but he would return and take Ember before he slept, she figured. He winked at her and walk
ed
away from the camp towards the bushes by the river.

The night was bright with the soon to be waning moon. Ember took a close look at the now sleeping camp and then over her shoulder at the old man as he slowly walked nearly forty lengths of a man away towards the river for some privacy. He would be farther away from the camp than nor
mal due to the bright moon.

Ember slowly shimmied up the tree trunk enough to maneuver herself around the trunk, placing her bound hands where she had dropped the shard. After a short moment of careful wiggling and cutting, Ember had removed her hands from the bindings. Leather was very strong and resisted breaking when pulled, but sharp flint sliced through leather like fire through snow. Her now freed wrists were red and aching from abuse, and her memories of her cheek being touched by the larger man still left a bitter taste. She couldn't allow these men to chase her. If she could, she would kill the blonde haired man and wound the younger man so he couldn't follow. With her obsidian dagger, she might slit their bare feet before they awoke
,
and
then
run. How far could a man with a long cut across his foot run? Ember knew full well how much a wounded foot could hurt, for her own foot was still in
jured from the wolf attack.

Ember might escape two wounded men, but the older man was still a problem. She was considering her options but, she was determined to act regardless. Ember was truly in the moment as she started moving. She slowly moved towards the large pack which the older man carried, containing her possessions, as best as she could guess. The pack was the sole object the older man carried, besides his dagger and bow. She opened the pack and found her flint pouch and pe
ndant. She removed the pouch from
the old man's pack and pulled the drawstring tight. She was about to put the pouch down when she noticed a rabbit pelt-wrapped object deep in the pack. Ember slowly picked up the bundle and unwrapped it. She nearly swooned as she saw the item found inside: a large blue piece of ice
the size of a baby's fist!

The ice was surprisingly not cold to the touch. Could this be a tiny piece of hardened water? Over the
harvests
, traders had occasionally brought tiny fragments of shiny color with them to trade, most the size of a small pebble. Some said they were fragments of the sky while others said they were frozen water from a distant and magical sea. Ember didn't truly care which, but she was taken aback by the sheer beauty of the object. She slipped the large blue thing back into the pelt and inserted it into her pouch, now overflowing. She carefully picked up the large man's bow and three of his arrows. Ember now had her flint, and even a weapon, but if she ran now the younger man and the older man would have her soon enough. She would have to ensure they n
ever had a chance to find her.

Ember had never killed a man, or anyone, and the thought scared her deeply. With thoughts of innocents dying with the first man she killed, Ember now approached Calpano slowly listening to his breath. Calpano wore Ember's obsidian dagger at his side, and she knew she had to recover it. His snoring gave her confidence as she slowly moved to take her knife from the man's belt. As her hand grasped the handle, Ember became aware that the man had stopped snoring. She now sprang backward taking the knife with her, though the sheath was still at the man's waist. Calpano awoke with a groggy anger on his face. He looked horribly ill to Ember, and he seemed to be fighting to keep his consciousness.
Ember reached out and carefully stroked her hand as softly as she could over his scalp. As she gently stroked his hair, he quietly gave in to the relaxing petting and s
lowly
slipped back into his delirious sleep. Ember's
poison was doing its job well.

With Calpano out of commission, the young man was her last target before running. Ember waited for a short moment, her chest heaving in fear. Slowly, she approached the sleeping man, a boy actually, apparently named Pak.

What sort of a name is Pak or Calpano for that matter?
She thought. He
lay
on a sleeping mat with a serene look on his face. Ember placed the blade against his neck and made ready to cut. She had opened the flesh of so many animals, dead anim
als. This was not a dead animal. She could feel his pulse against the dagger.
Ember realized that she could not kill him as he lay defenseless. She rolled her eyes and moved to his bare feet. She placed the blade against his right foot and prepared to cut. She would cut him open so that he would not be able to follow, but w
ould probably not die.

Ember placed the edge of the razor sharp obsidian dagger against the bare foot. Each time she tried to cut his foot she found it hard to pull the dagger. She couldn't quite force herself to wound this man, the only one who had helped her. As she sat there mulling over her convictions, Ember heard a noise behind her. With a jerk, she turned and saw the old man returning early
and
with a dangerous fury on his face. Ember's blood ran cold as she understood that she had waited too long.

*  *  *

He had held back so far, but he was not about to let this girl threaten his men, pitiful as they may be to have been taken by surprise by a young woman, he thought. He would teach her who
is
in-charge using his raw strength to show her his will and her place.