Authors: C. R. Daems
"I'll stay for awhile. I'll need some new clothes, but
not women's. I've never been one—a girl child, slave, and warrior, but
not a woman. I'm not sure what I am, but the wife and mother image doesn't feel
right."
"Thank you. I'll help any way I can."
"I'm surprised no one came to investigate the fire.
They must have seen it from the village." That had been part of the reason
I had set the barn on fire, to attract attention, even if it was unlikely to
bring help in time.
"We are almost two days’ ride from Baron Dedrich's
castle and the town of Oberen. There are other small communities like this one,
but they are unlikely to investigate without a reason to visit. Fires are not
unusual." Ethel shrugged. "The Baron's troops will be here in a few
days. We pay a tax to him since we are on his land. In exchange he provides ...
security. Three of the men killed were his soldiers. They are rotated every ten…two-hands
of days." Tears dripped down her face. "We thought that would be
enough to keep us safe."
"The tribe split into two groups. Another community was
also destroyed yesterday," I said, watching her face pale.
"Oh my God!" She sobbed into her hands. "Do
you know which?"
"No. The chief made the decision. We just went were he sent
us, most likely another community about this size. One with cattle."
"I hope you're right. The two closest to us are smaller
and have only a cow or two."
"They came a long way and would want someplace worth
their time. They had three hands of warriors and could take on four hands of men
without too much trouble. They would be willing to risk a few deaths. They're
bloodthirsty, not cowards."
"Will you stay in this house? I know you don't think
they will return but ..."
"All right. They won't return. They got what they wanted
and can't be sure if help will be coming. And they think I'm dead or out of
their reach. They will be traveling fast and hit a few small communities on the
way into the mountains."
"Why?"
"They are hunters. The mountains cannot support their
numbers comfortably, so they need to raid periodically. And it keeps them
mobile. If we took an army into the mountains, they could move within hours. It
would take years and thousands of soldiers to destroy them."
"What will happen to Timma, Lissa, and Gorda ... the
other children?"
"They will be village slaves like I was, along with
other children from my parents’ village." I didn’t add, ‘if they survive
the trek back.’
"Will they be made warriors?"
I laughed. "No, the Ojaza will never make that mistake
again."
The next two days were spent trying to repair the damage the
Ojaza had caused. We managed to find a few chickens that had eluded the
warriors and one of the cows that escaped the fire. Ethel worked from early
morning to late in the evening, trying not to think about yesterday or
tomorrow—just today and her children. I selected some of the men’s
clothing, and Ethel managed to tailor it into something I felt comfortable
wearing. Something I imagined a woman hunter might wear: long sleeved shirt,
short wool coat, warm tight-fitting pants, and leather boots. She made me a
wolf cap out of my old wolf coat, and I kept my wolf-fur lower-leg coverings. I
kind of liked the look, which was neither male nor female.
Baron Dedrich's soldiers arrived on the fourth day. I opened
the gate as they rode up, some forty strong. They carried standard weapons:
long swords, daggers of various lengths, some crossbows, a few long bows, and
lances. Inside the compound, a tall broad-shouldered man dismounted a brown stallion
with a grey mane. His eyes narrowed and face muscles tightened as he scanned
the area.
"Where is everyone, Ethel?" he asked in a harsh
tone.
"Dead, Lieutenant Wiktor. Warriors from the mountains
attacked us three days ago. Only my two children and I escaped ... thanks to
Zara." She nodded in my direction.
"How many?" he asked, looking at me.
"Originally, a hand-of-hands and one. They split into
two groups. Three-hands of warriors attacked here and three someplace else.
They lost a hand of warriors here and probably a couple of warriors elsewhere.
So they have less than five-hands of warriors."
He scowled. "Why were you with them?"
"I was a captured slave, and it amused them to try and
make me a warrior." The truth was far too complicated and would take too
long to explain. Besides, I didn't owe him an explanation.
"Do you know where they are going?" he asked,
glaring at me.
I nodded.
"Good. They are on foot. We can catch them before they
reach the mountains."
I laughed. "Sorry. They move farther each day than you
and your troops can, so you will never catch them. And you don't want to. Those
warriors are better trained than your soldiers."
"How do you know?" His face turned angry.
"I was captured when I was young, and have spent more
than two-hands of summers with them. From their youth, they train to be warriors.
They are not farmers or even hunters. They are warriors. They murdered my
family. I want to see them killed as much as you do, but don't confuse wanting
with doing."
He and his chief sergeant spent several hours asking me
questions about the tribe and what happened. In the end, he decided to leave
three men, who I think were told to keep an eye on me. Ethel gave Lieutenant Viktor
a notice to post in town, offering a place at the compound for any families
interested and stating she would be in Oberon five-hands of days from now.
That evening at dinner, the three soldiers had lots of
questions about the warriors. It was apparent from the questions they were
nervous. I did my best to assure them they had nothing to worry about—at
least from the mountain warriors.
* * *
Ethel and I left three days before the date she was due in Oberon,
using a wagon the soldiers helped her repair and two of their horses. I had
finally convinced them the warriors were by now home high in the mountains and
wouldn't be leaving before summer. The trip took two full days. When we
arrived, Ethel rented two rooms at a local tavern and inn, The Outpost, which
was at the edge of town. Lieutenant Viktor found us as Ethel was getting ready
to interview the two-hands of families waiting.
"Zara, the baron would like to talk to you, if you
would accompany me," he said. Not a request but an order since he had five
soldiers with him and an extra horse. I nodded and mounted. As I had never been
to a large village, I found the ride interesting. We rode through market places
where people were selling and buying a variety of foods, buildings where you
could buy clothes and other items, wood and stone houses, and people beyond
count.
Trying to imagine it made my head fuzzy. "How many
people?"
"A couple of thousand in the town and another five hundred
at the castle."
"Thousand? Hundred?" I asked. The lieutenant
laughed and began explaining the standard system of counting. I had a headache
by the time we reached the massive walls surrounding the baron's castle. Turning
and twisting, I almost fell off my horse several times while trying to see the
wonders of the castle: houses stacked upon houses many times, glass windows,
streets paved with stones, women and men dressed in strange clothes ... I
jerked around when I realized we had stopped. The massive building had a hand of
steps leading to two doors each the width of a man and as tall as two. A man
stood in front of the doors wearing a black coat and pants and a blue cloth
from his left shoulder to his right waist. I followed the lieutenant, who followed
the man down a long hallway lined with elaborate rugs, paintings, and statues
and led into a room where a small overweight man dressed in maroon pants, a
white silk shirt, and leather boots stood next to a large wooden desk. Behind
him were four narrow windows that lit what would otherwise have been a dark
room with its walnut-paneled walls. Various weapons and paintings of fighting
scenes adorned the walls. There was only one chair, and I wasn't invited to
sit.
"Baron Dietrich, this is the woman Zara, who lived with
the mountain tribe that attacked the Manola community.
"Well, Zara. That must have been an interesting
experience," he said, smoothing his well-trimmed mustache.
"If you like seeing your parents killed, watching your
friends die because they don’t have the strength to make the climb to their
camp, eating leftover roots and plants, working from sun up to late at night,
regular beatings, and knowing you will live and die a worthless slave," I
said. "I wouldn't recommend it."
He stood, looking shocked and then angry. "You’re
insolent, but then you are little but a savage." He smiled.
I retreated into my quiet mind that was immune to insult and
didn't respond to his pettiness. What could I say to the fool?
After several minutes of silence, he sighed. "What can
you tell us about the mountain tribes?"
"I've told the Lieutenant everything I know. As I've
said, I was a slave. Like you, they considered me worthless."
"They trained you to be a warrior."
"No. They amused themselves by making me a whipping dog
for their youth. I just happened to survive daily beatings with wooden swords
and the endless abuse. When they tired of that, they decided it would be fun if
they could make me kill some lowlanders. And if not, they planned to amuse
themselves torturing me to death. I survived because I hated them more than
they hated me."
That more or less ended the questioning. He made a few more
attempts, but I pretended I hadn't learned to speak the Ojaza language
fluently, just enough words and phases to understand what they wanted and
therefore didn't understand their culture or plans. I played off the
you are nothing but a savage
by which he
had accused me. They returned me to The Outpost late in the afternoon.
"There you are, Zara," Ethel said as she came
running toward me. "I was getting ready to go looking for you. What did
Baron Dietrich want?"
"To be entertained."
"Entertained? How?"
"He wanted to see the girl who had lived among the
savages and hear interesting stories. He considers me little but a savage, not
a girl who was kidnapped by savages who murdered her parents."
Ethel stood there in shock for several seconds and then
grabbed me in a tight hug. "Come, let's go eat, and I'll tell you about
the families I've talked to today. If you don't mind, I'd like you to join the
eleven families I've selected. They will want to talk to you about the tribes
and the potential danger. Consider it the start of your learning to be
civilized again. Although after your talk with Baron Dietrich, you may not be
interested." She hooked her arm in mine and pulled me toward the tavern.
* * *
Ethel was right. The families spent a good deal of the time
asking about the tribes, mostly whether I thought they would be back.
"I can't tell you what the tribes will do. There are
three tribes in the mountains, and I lived with only one. But I know it's a
full moon’s trip to the community, and therefore the trip can only be made in
the summer months. I was with them for two-hands of summers and that was the
only time they made a raid that far into the lowlands. I doubt the Ojaza would
attack the same area again for fear you would be ready."
"What about the other two tribes?" one of the men
asked.
"They will be aware of the Ojaza's raid, so I doubt
they would either. I think the chances are small, but if you choose to live
away from the town, you must be prepared."
"Are you staying with Ethel?" a woman asked,
looking from Ethel to me. Ethel also looked to me. She had mentioned yesterday
that she thought most if not all would back out if I didn't stay.
"I'll stay awhile, with the understanding that you will
provide me with the knowledge I'll need to live in civilization." I didn't
think I would enjoy life in the community, and if I didn't stay, I would need
to understand the world I would be traveling. Besides, I felt responsible for Ethel.
Ironically, saving her life made her dependent on me, and she would need my help.
Ethel stayed five more days talking with the families and negotiating
shares in the community, common rules, resolution of conflicts, and potential
growth. I spent each night with Ethel; her son, Joh, age four; and her daughter,
Wina, a hand plus two—learning to read and write as she produced the
community's bylaws. I concluded the Ojaza's symbols were a lot easier.
* * *
In the end, one less than two-hands of families joined the
community. They were comprised of a hand and four each adult males and females
and the same number of children. I had talked to each family to determine what
they could contribute to my education. They were a diverse group, and I was
looking forward to working with them. Ethel was a teacher and would help me
with reading, writing, and numbers. Dejan had worked in a small store and
volunteered to teach me about the price of goods and how to bargain. Dana had
worked with a physician and would help me with herbs and treating injuries. Although
I might already be an expert myself, she would know other techniques that were
better. Likewise, Aron had travelled a lot and would help with the cost of inns,
food, stables, and the like. Elmo was good with animals and would work with me
on maintaining a horse. The others would just tell me about their lives in the
hope that would prove useful. For my part, I had agreed to stay and help in any
way I could. In truth, they just felt my presence made them safer, which it
didn't. I had agreed to stay at least a complete cycle.
* * *
"Zara, I'm Corporal Aldo," a tall, thin man said
as I left the house that morning. It was our second day back from Oberon. "This
is private Dino and private Lech. We were wondering if you wouldn't mind
telling us about the warriors from the tribes. I was told you lived with
them." The three must have been waiting for me to leave the house.
"I would not only be glad to tell you about them but to
show you their techniques and to work with you so you will know what to expect
if you encounter them. But in exchange, I would like for you to help me learn
about a soldier's life and tell me a little of your experiences," I said,
having decided the best way to transition back into society was to get people
to tell me about their lives. Not the same as doing but better than wandering
around without a clue.
"That's a fair deal," Aldo said to nodding heads.
"First, we will need some practice swords. I'd like
mine to look like the warriors' swords, which are slightly shorter, curved, and
wider at the tip. I'll get you one that the warriors left behind to copy,"
I said to grins. I went into the burned out barn and collected the first one I
found and brought it back out and handed it to Aldo. "I want to start with
a demonstration, so we'll start when you have them ready." He nodded, and
the three wandered off in the direction of the maintenance building, heads
together talking.
While I waited, I wandered around the property, acquainting
myself with the new arrangements and talking to those I met. Everyone was busy.
Beside what the tribe had stolen, they had destroyed a lot in the process:
windows, furniture, dishes, doors, etc.
"Zara," Aaron shouted and waved. He and Dejan were
examining the wooden fence that surrounded the compound, which had several
sections that had been destroyed during the raid. "What kind of a fence
would you suggest for protection?" he asked as I approached. I smiled to
myself. This was my contribution to the community. They needed someone to give
them a realistic assessment of the dangers—things they should be
concerned about and things they shouldn't, like this fence.
"You can't build a fence or wall that will keep the
tribes or even mercenaries out. It's mostly to keep the animals, cattle, and
children in and to delay a raid. So the current fence is adequate if you fix
the missing and weak areas."