Ember of a New World (19 page)

I would pluck them from your face if I could,
she thought. Ember wasn't pleased with herself for such dark thoughts, but the anger helped her keep going. She knew that the grim thoughts she was having were wrong, but Ember wondered how people knew such things were
wrong.
The creation stories didn't mention any reason why
some actions or thoughts
were wrong and Ember didn't remember her mother saying anything which might indicate why such thoughts were bad, and yet Ember knew they were wrong. Ember supposed that people just knew it was wrong to hurt each other because it was the only sane way people could live together. A tribe of evil people wouldn't last very long. Ember carried on with her introspective thoughts as sh
e waited for the men to sleep.

As the night grew darke
r,
the men situated themselves for sleep. The older man suddenly stood and walked over to Ember. She sat upright with worry in her eyes and a quickening pulse. The man smiled at her in mock friendliness. He knelt beside her and slowly looked her up and down. He was a slightly aging but still a formidable hunter by all appearances. He had long shoulder length ragged hair, slightly balding in the front. His face was wrinkled with small scars and a scruffy unkempt look. Several deep scars on his hands told the story of a man who had been in the wilds for longer than most. Perhaps he was a senior hunter where he came from. Often
,
a senior hunter would lead long distance journeys.

All of this time out in the wilds and you have forgotten what is right and wrong
, she thought.

As the older man sized her up, Ember thought of her home and her warm bed. She
was
in that bed sleeping, right now, about a ten-day ago... Yet again the absurdity of Ember's “task” came to her.

W
ell Gods, thanks for watching out for me,
she thought glumly. She snapped out of her thinking as the man reached out and placed his hand on her hip! Ember's face froze in horror as he said something with mock thoughtfulness.

So, now he is ready for me,
she thought. Well, I am not quite ready for him just yet. She lifted her foot and kicked the man square in the chest. He choked up spittle and fell backward onto his butt with a loud thud. The blonde haired man blew the water he was drinking out of his mouth, nearly choking. He stood and laughed as hard as Em
ber had ever seen a man laugh.

The stunned expression on the older man's face quickly turned to rage. He stood ready to come at Ember with all of his strength and she knew, bound as she was, she wouldn't be able
to
stop him. Her saving grace came from the blonde haired man. He said something to the older man in a playful voice with a rueful smile. The older man turned on him in an instant and came at him fast! The blonde haired man back
ed
away, quickly, and held his hands in front of himself. He had obviously crossed some line with his joking and the old man was now too enraged to consider Ember. He yelled at both of the other two men for a while and then walked away from the camp. The blonde haired man walked a few paces towards Ember giving her a wicked grin. He said something underhanded and then gave her a wink before returning to the fire and bedding down for sleep. The older man returned after a while without a w
ord and went quickly to sleep.

Ember's people were known for singing and dancing, but this dance was more delicate and dangerous than she had ever performed. Ember was not completely sure of what had happened, other than how close she had just come to knowing this man, this brute. She would have to act fast, or she might not resist him again. Originally, she had hoped either to make an es
cape or to pi
t the men against each other, somehow. In an odd sort of way, it seemed like this was happening all by itself, but Ember would have to do more, and fast! For now, she sat back an
d slowly drifted off to sleep.

On the fifth day the group was less talkative than the previous four. The older man walked behind Ember much of the way, watching her she suspected. Ember could feel his eyes boring holes into her back as she walked. This sort of march
ing
was quite unpleasant. She became more convinced by the moment that she would need to do something soon, perhaps tonight. Ember became more afraid as she walked when she considered the likely
events to come
. She would either escape or be taken. Ember decided that if she failed, she would cause as much injury to the older man as she could, even if she had to play along to get him to let his guard down. Ember hoped it wou
ld not come to that.

The day was long and hot, and Ember's poor ragged body was not used to this sort of punishment. She longed for a cold dip in the river and a midday nap.

Why must they always push ahead at full speed? Why can't they just stop for a while? Perhaps it's because none of these men like each other?
she wondered. The biggest question Ember had was what these men were doing in the first place? They didn't seem like traders, and Ember had not seen any furs or wares about them. What could their
motivation be?

By the time the sun approached the horizon, Ember was totally exhausted. The four stopped in an area with many wide fields to make camp for the night. Ember's feet ached, and her wrists were cut in many places from those damn
ed bindings. She saw the forest
on ei
ther side of the fields.
Ember
was unsure if
her body could
tolerate
the run from where she was to
the forests
edge before being seen. Worse, if Ember ran, she would have to somehow evade the men when they came for her. Ember had started to consider her surroundings since the previous night. She had become an opportunist with her fear of the old man. She had even openly accepted food from the younger man, instead of only taking it after she was forced. She would need the strength to run when she made her break. After a time, the men had finished laying mats and clearing the area of debris. The younger man came forward and placed a large rabbit beside Ember and gave her a nod. He gave her a half smile and untied her bindings leaving her to make dinner.
She had to do something soon.

A short time later, Ember stood by the
river’s
edge with the rabbit gaining the confidence to make dinner for these men. The work was made much more difficult by the hate welling in her. She had trouble keeping herself calm as she worked.

Do they not understand how hard it is to make a meal for those who enslave you?
She pushed thoughts of what might come after dinner from her mind and laid the rabbit down for cleaning. Normally, the men either gave her several rabbits, or a few small game birds, or fish, but this was all they had caught today. The younger dark haired man had shot the rabbit with the same blunt arrow used to stun Ember. The poor creature had been huge for a rabbit and might actually afford enough meat for the three men, at least. She would most likely eat tubers, if anything. After a long effort of cutting and scraping, the rabbit had
been eviscerated and cleaned.

Ember had started with her plans of escape from the moment she had been freed. Many young women in per place would have been too gripped by fear, but Ember had always been strong of heart and less than tolerant of fools. Had these men not considered the ways she might use this very work against them? Perhaps they assumed that a woman could merely cook food and nothing more. Ember
had spent much of the evening considering
how to wound men with a meal.

An undercooked rabbit can make a man quite ill,
she said to herself with an evil grin. With that thought, Ember started working on the first segment of a quickly forming plan. She would retain a tiny bit of the innards from the rabbit and add it to the cooked mea
t just before feeding it to the
men. These men would find that Ember could be as deadly as any hunter; maybe even a little cunning, like a f
ox.

The cleaning of a land animal was similar to the cleaning and dressing of a fish, basically, but much worse in smell. Ember's fingers were wet with gore and oil from the carcass when she was done. The belly of the rabbit had to be sliced open, and the organs spilled out. Afterward
,
the remaining pieces would be scooped out, by hand, and the carcass cleaned in water. The hardest part was removing the fur which had to be done by hand in a tearing fashion.

The noise and feel always bothered Ember. Women in the village would sometimes vomit while first learning to do this, but growing up beside your mother as she did this act nearly daily lessened the effect when it came your turn to clean the meals. You would either grow used to this or never eat meat. Ember tended to have trouble eating the very animal she had cleaned, but otherwise she tolerated the gore well. She smiled to herself as she considered the art of domestic homicide. In truth, she was not trying to kill the men, but if they became seriously il
l, she would not be too upset.

Ember cleaned her fingers in a nearby stream with sand for grout. Before washing the rabbit, she let a small piece of entrails fall beside the rock she now knelt beside. The entrails were the nastiest and most vile part of the guts. If they were left in the food, they could make you sick, even if the food was cooked. If they were applied to already cooked meat, they might prove deadly! The effect would take perhaps part of the night or even the next day, but it could render the men ineffective at chasing her, and if she were lucky, it might even kill the old one. The more Ember thought about it, the less she thought she might care if
the older man didn't wake up.

The men were casually watching her, but mostly to prevent her from running. She washed water through the rabbit carcass to clean it further and brought the rabbit back to the fire. The small piece of entrail was cupped in her left hand carefully between her index and middle finger, where her hands were already blackened from the pigment she wore. Her slightly
dark and
tanned skin was starting to return as the
black
pigment wore off, but the men had not noticed the deadly cargo she carried as she placed the Rabbit over a newly constructed spit. Ember noticed the aggressive old man eying her body with a hungry look. She shuddered and wiped the saved gore on the end of the spit, just away from the fire but within easy reach. Ember hoped his hunger could be abated by the rabbit, and that the next day would bring the
effects of her treachery.

Ember knew that a full man would normally sleep soundly. To ensure this happened, she spent a short while creating
porridge
of ground grains from a leather bag the men carried, and some water. The rabbit was quite large and Ember was able to cut a small piece for each man. She added the entrails carefully to the inside and burned parts hoping to mask the taste. There were only enough entrails to spoil two of the pieces, and so Ember decided to poison the older man and the blonde haired man. She would spare the yo
unger man if this even worked.

Perhaps she could escape even with the younger man not ill. Ember walked to each of the men and handed them a crude
woven reed
“plate” with porridge and rabbit meat. Each of the men ate greedily as she watched. Ember's stomach rumbled loudly enough to be heard, and the large man turned to her and said something, to which he and the blonde haired man laughed. The youngest hunter stood and walked to Ember and offered her his bowl with some rabbit and porridge remaining. Ember refused the food and crossed her hands over her chest to indicate refusal. Five days of captivity had not diminished Ember's embarrassment at being forced into such indignity. The young man glared at her and thrust the bowl once more. She again refused, fearing to be too agreeable and feeling more confident in her choice of victims. The younge
r man tapped his chest and spoke.

“Pak
,”
he said.
He repeated this word twice more, his name she supposed.

Well, “Pak”, I will not so easily befriend you, but I will spare your life,
Ember thought. She slowly walked to a little tree near the camp, where the men would most likely tie her up, and curled up to sleep. Each night they chose a spot with a small but firm tree close enough to bind Ember. She heard the men laughing, and she hoped they would leave h
er be, at least for the night.

Before bed, the older men came to Ember again and tied her hands once more. Afterward
,
he squatted before her and carefully let one finger trace a line from her cheek to her chin. Her skin crawled, and she let out a gasp of revulsion. He said something which promised suffering, but suddenly let out a small laugh and stood to go lie down.

“You'll die for that...” she whispered in response, but if the large old man heard her, he did not show it. He just walked back to the fire and fell asleep. Ember was sure that he was close to breaking and would come for her very soon. She hoped the rabbit was working its magic. With a dinner of rabbit and grain porridge in their stomachs, the men slid off to bed. Ember sat against the tree, her hands were now slightly looser than before, she was learning how to loosen them, but she was unable to move away from her current location. She hoped she might make it through the night without the need to relieve herself, an uncomfortable prospect, to say the least, with three men
only
a short walk from her.