Scavenger Girl: Season of Toridia

by Jennifer Arntson

  Kash rode in on his well-dressed horse with two pieces of iron in one hand and his reins in the other. The beast snorted against the bit in his mouth as a man took control of the bridle. After he dismounted, Kash moseyed to the fire and tossed the ends of the irons into the flames.

  “I’m thirsty,” Kash said, still watching the flames. One of his men rushed to a terracotta pot sitting on a stump under the shade of a neighboring tree, returning moments later with a glass of ice water.

  Where did they find ice?

  Kash swirled the contents as if it were wine then sipped it. He inventoried the children, first from behind then by walking slowly in front of them. “Do you know why we call them the Display?” he asked, pouring the water slowly on the dirt next to his foot.

  I didn’t answer. Neither did Marsh.

  He kicked the chunks of ice. “They are criminals.”

  “They are children,” I corrected him.

  Kash threw his glass, shattering it against the stone firepit. “No,” he growled. “They stole from me. They were bound as a warning to all other thieves to reconsider their choices.”

  “What did they steal to earn such a punishment?” I winced against the pain of my restraints.

  “They are aware of their crimes. They can tell you themselves.” He snapped his fingers, and one of his men brought a wooden crate for him to sit on. “Since you don’t care for their arrangements, I’ve decided to make them your responsibility, Una.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You will,” he said, straightening his posture. He folded his hands in his lap and smiled innocently. “We’ll see how many you actually want to take home with you. Why don’t you choose your favorite one right now?”

  Something isn’t right.

  The small crowd forming to watch his charade made me nervous.

  “What’s the matter, Una, did you change your mind?”

  “I don’t like playing games when I don’t know the rules,” I replied.

  Kash stood, walked to our table, and leaned down in front of me, his breath smelling of mint. “Just pick one, and take them home,” he offered. “Didn’t you ever adopt a puppy from a litter?”

  “I’m not comfortable with this.”

  “Who said I was going to make anyone comfortable?” His eyebrow pulled up. He slapped the tabletop. “Look, I don’t want them anymore. Take who you want, and I’ll simply dispose of the others.” He returned to his place back on the crate.

  I swallowed, shuddering at his use of the word dispose.

  “Her. I’ll take her, in the yellow.”

  “Fabulous!” Kash sprang up and nearly skipped over to the girl. “So, little girl…” He smiled warmly at her, glancing at me quickly before continuing. “Would you like to go home with the nice lady over there?”

  The little girl didn’t move.

  “Now, now, don’t be shy. The choice is yours,” he said, tapping her on the nose like a loving uncle.

  Her knotted hair and sunburned face showed a sliver of hope. She nodded timidly.

  “Good.” Kash stood upright. “Why don’t you go stand in front of the table, then, dear.” The little girl cautiously approached the table and stood by my side. I held out my free arm and tucked her into my side. She peered up at me with big brown eyes, and I did my best to ignore the healing bruise hidden in the fold of her eyelid.

  Kash walked over to the fire, pulled a cloth from his pocket, and wrapped it around his hand. He lifted one of the irons from the coals and studied its glowing red tip.

  “Prepare her for the mark,” he said, still in awe of his red-hot instrument.

  Two of his men snatched the little girl from my side, stretching her arm out on the table. The girl wiggled to get free, but the men easily overpowered her, keeping her still. Kash was unfazed by her screaming, her torment.

  “No,” I shouted. “Don’t touch her!” I pulled and jerked, trying to get my hand free. “Stop! Please!”

  “Your responsibility, Una. Not mine,” he said calmly as he pressed the hot iron into the back of her arm. The little girl shrilled with a pitch so high, birds flew out of the trees en masse.

  “No!” I cried.

  What is he doing?

  Kash lifted the iron from the girl and ordered the men to set her aside. I put my head on the table, unable to stand, unable to look at anyone in my shame. I chose her; her pain was my fault. “Now, it’s your turn, Mother Una.” He held the rod against my shackled arm.

  It instantly melted my flesh and singed the muscle below. My back arched, and I screamed until the branding finished.

  “That’s one.” He set the iron back in the fire.

  Marsh reached for me, touching me with his fingertips. “You son of a bitch,” he spat at Kash.

  “How presumptuous. You don’t know my mother.” He unwrapped the cloth from his hand and cooled it off by swaying it in the breeze. “Now, pick another.”

  My flesh still sizzled. Although the blister rose immediately, my skin continued to cook as if the iron still lay across it.

  “Why are you doing this?” I sobbed.

  “Because I can.” He laid the cloth across his leg. “Because you came into my territory and messed with my property. You should be thankful you’re alive.”

  “Why let me live?” I demanded through my clenched teeth. “Is it because of who I am or who you know?”

  “Neither. Or perhaps both,” he dismissed my accusation. “Besides, I know you can take it. You’ve suffered worse.”

  I raised my eyes to him. “How would you know?” I asked, my jaw still tight.

  “Pick another child, and I’ll tell you.”

  I looked up at the line of children and pointed to the next boy in line. “That one.”

  “Fantastic.” Kash stood. “Would you like to go home with this lady, son?” The boy adamantly shook his head no. “Ahh, don’t want the branding? Fair enough.” He made a gesture with his finger and reclaimed his place on the crate. Ignoring the line of children, he watched me. The Woodsmen nearest the boy grabbed his head and gave it a twist so quickly I almost missed it. His body fell in a crumpled pile in the dirt.

  The air left my lungs. Kash, still watching me, smiled, accepting the platitudes of his kinsmen.

  Marsh threatened our captors so viciously spit flew from his throat.

  “You killed him! What are you doing?” I screamed.

  Kash hushed his men. “What? He didn’t want to go with you.” He shrugged. “I told you; I don’t want them anymore.”

  “So, you kill them?” I sobbed.

  “One question at a time, Mother Una,” he reminded me as if I were a nuisance.

  I couldn’t focus on anything but the boy in the dirt. I didn’t even know his name. My entire body trembled. Panic set in. I started to hyperventilate, and I fought against my bindings. Then, the wolf took over. The hair on the back of my neck stood on end, and I unraveled. Thirsting for blood and vengeance, I nearly pulled my shoulder from its socket. I screamed and snarled like an animal, and for all my effort, I only accomplished shaking the table.

  “Una!” Marsh shouted. “Una, calm down!”

  I thrashed about until my muscles burned and I collapsed on the table.

  Kash clapped his hands and laughed. “Look at her go!” His men laughed right along with him. “What a show! What a show! This is far more entertaining than I gave it credit for. Shall we pick another?”

  I didn’t want to “pick another.” I didn’t want to make these children suffer more than they already were. But if I didn’t choose, then I knew he’d kill them. Anguish ground through my spirit, and I wailed, my head lying on the table known to torture so many before me. My breath spasmed, and the pain in my arm returned as resolution set in. Exhausted, I faced the row of terrified children. Some of them were so young, and others were almost old enough to be considered for marriage. I counted them.

  Thirteen.

  “I’m so sorry,” I confessed. “I wan
ted to help you. It broke my heart to see you strung up like…like puppets. I want to take all of you with me.” Panting, I took a moment to calm myself. I cleared my throat. “If you can find the strength for one mark for me, I will find the strength to take one for you. I’m not asking you to do anything I’m not willing to do myself. I promise, I will not abandon you.”

  “Oh, how sweet,” Kash said theatrically.

  “Don’t pay attention to him,” I begged through my tears. “This is not a joke. Not for me. He said you can come home with me. If that is what you want, come here and put your arm on the table so we can go. Together.”

  It seemed like an eternity had passed before the first child stepped forward and laid his arm across the table. Behind him, the rest of them lined up, drumming up all the courage they had in them. Their choice stole the joy from Kash’s lips, which couldn’t have made me happier. The children clutched each other, awaiting their turn to earn freedom. They held hands, hugged, and cried as they gathered around the table. One at a time, they offered their supple flesh to the iron, and one by one, they suffered by its heat.

  He alternated his effort, first making their marks then adding to mine. With each one he added, I feared the metal would press through my limb like a warm knife through lard. My skin reddened like fire and blackened like coal. The pain was so profound it crippled me. With several more marks to accept, I lay limp on the table in a puddle of my own sweat, tears, and vomit. Kash loosened the restraints to continue his task, knowing I was committed to his offer.

  When all the children had been properly branded, fourteen burned and oozing burns lined the outside of my left arm from wrist to just above the elbow. I felt as if the entire thing had melted by fire. My shirt stuck to my back, drenched with sweat, and my pants reeked of urine. Unable to hold my head up any longer, I nearly fainted from the pain the shock protected me from feeling.

  Kash grabbed my hair and lifted my face to see him without obstruction. “One more, Mother.” He dropped my head, and it landed hard on the table. He exchanged the iron he’d been using for the other still heating in the fire. He came around our side of the table and pushed the sleeve of my blouse up over my shoulder. He kissed it softly and took care to position the final branding just right. It hit my skin, and again the bite, sound, and smell of burning flesh overwhelmed my senses. I’d suffered so much that my body wouldn’t allow me to respond to the trauma of the final burn.

  “That’s it.” He patted my back. “You did well.” He tossed the iron into a bucket full of water where it sizzled and steamed in protest. “Someone get the mother and her children some water.”

  A stranger poured water into my open mouth from a rusted canteen. Water ran over my lips and tongue and into my hair spread in a mess under my cheek. Kash fully removed my restraints then Marsh’s before he gave us our final instructions. Marsh held me, careful not to touch my arm. I was too weak to move, and he too smart to take a cheap shot at our captors

  “You have one mark for every child you took responsibility for. If my men come across one of them and they are not with you, they will be killed on sight. They will only be protected if they are with you. Do you understand?”

  I nodded weakly, clinging to Marsh with my one usable arm. “But how will they know not to kill me? I’ve been marked numerous times.”

  “Because you now bear my mark. The one on your shoulder is my signature. No one will harm you. I have claimed your mortality. Your life belongs to me. You’ve seen what happens when someone steals from me. I am capable of much worse.”

  “I will cut off my arm before I let you own me,” I slurred.

  He leaned down and whispered in my ear, “Then let it be for show. This gives you immunity and a bounty for any who would harm you.” He stood. “If your actions draw my attention again, I’ll not be such a gentleman.”

  My eyes wouldn’t focus on the features of his face. “Why?”

  “Call it a gift.” He fixed his hat. “For your favors during Talium.” He winked at me.

  “What favors?” I blinked hard. “Who are you?”

  Kash snapped his fingers. “Get the family to the main road,” he ordered. “I’m done entertaining them.” The leader of the Woodsmen mounted his horse and headed off into the forest.

  His men threw us from the processing table. They followed their leader’s directions in the harshest way possible. We were all but dragged out of their territory. I tried to call for the children to follow, and in the blurry glances I stole from over my shoulder, they kept up. The path I tripped along felt longer than the one we’d been brought in by. Eventually the gate, still littered with bound children, came into view.

  Their figures were eerily still. The darkened soil under their feet explained why their heads hung limp and the buzzards circled. Like the scavengers of the air, I smelled the blood of a fresh kill.

  Kash’s words echoed in my memory. “I don’t want them anymore.”

  A Woodsmen removed the closing pin, swinging the gate wide with a shove. Citizens who had been stealing Kash’s shade scurried. They fanned out in all directions as they dumped us like a pile of dirty laundry. They sloughed us off their arms then landed a few well-aimed kicks to Marsh’s ribs.

  My brother, unable to do anything other than hold his torso, lay helpless at their feet. “Feel free to visit again,” the men teased as they left.

  I crawled to my brother, my arm held close to my side as if it had broken. I fell next to him, too spent to try to move again. His fingers opened mine, and he intertwined them. His one good eye peeled open. “You did it.” He smiled painfully. “You saved them.”

  I’m not sure I did.

  * * *

  Time passed in long pauses and interrupted consciousness. When I finally did come to, it was because one of the older girls nudged me awake.

  “It is not safe here,” she warned. “We must move.”

  Three of them worked together to pull Marsh off the ground while another waited with crutches to support his weight. The children were all too short to brace him, and I was in no condition help either. Once on his feet, Marsh limped himself along. I waddled behind, looking inebriated, still fighting to stay conscious. One of the boys brought me a smooth whittled staff.

  “Use it like a walking stick. It might help

  “Where did you get these things?”

  “We found them,” he lied, but I didn’t care.

  My body protested with every step, but the children kept close watch over us. Whenever I faltered, a small hand provided me balance. In our slow progression, the children took turns glancing into the woods. Given their experiences with the Woodsmen, I was sure they didn’t believe the terms of their release. I did.

  The welts on my skin, the hours of captivity and anticipation, the lifelong counting of the children, not knowing if an expiration to the deal existed, the control of every moment after the iron plunged into the water—that was the punishment. He wanted to make sure we remembered. Everyone would remember.

  My legs buckled under me, and my walking stick fell from my grip. I couldn’t go on. Marsh dropped to his knees next to me. The occasional Citizen took notice of us in passing. Having nothing of value, our vulnerability meant nothing. We were neither accepted nor unwelcomed by the residents of the shanty town. Along the road, we were travelers, another casualty beyond their ability to help.

  Everything lining the ditches to the edge of the morning shadows existed in a degree of brown. Even in these terrible conditions, I was certain the people felt sorrier for us than they did for themselves.

  Marsh squinted into the sky. “Thankfully, it’s almost sundown, and we’ll be out of the heat.”

  The thought didn’t comfort me. There was still much to fear, and we were not prepared for the troubles of the dark. Our children gathered around us, making sure their marks could be easily seen. I tried to roll up my sleeve higher so mine could be counted at a distance, but the weeping wounds had dried against the cloth in the hea
t.

  I understood why the men were so feared. His men taught me why no one dared to stand against them. And the men who joined them? Strangely, I understood a few things about them too. Calish said they were organized, brutal, godless men, but he had no idea how bad they truly were.

  Chapter 21

  Calish and his search team found us sometime after sunset. While I knew he would eventually, I never expected it to happen before dawn. To his credit, Calish didn’t bat an eye when I told him the children were coming with us. He stayed with me as Graken rode back to the neighborhood to get a wagon so we could all be transported together.

  Calish only asked once what happened. While I couldn’t answer, the responses he collected from the children and someone who saw us deposited there seemed to satisfy him for the time being. Having him by my side allowed me to finally close my eyes and have true rest. Calish would require a full account from me, and he’d have it soon enough. After a few sips of water for each of us, his goatskin ran dry. He attempted to run his fingers through my crusted hair, opting to caress my temple with his thumb instead. I felt his tears land on my head, but he never pressed for details. Protected by the security who stayed with him to protect us, he never needed to make threats or warn the Citizens to stay back.

  Graken returned faster than any of us expected. Calish wanted me to ride with him on his horse, but I refused. Kash had been very specific about the rules of our branding. The children were only protected if I was with them, but what did he mean when he said “with them?” If I were on horseback and they were on the wagon next to me, would we be close enough?

  I didn’t know. One careless mistake would cost one of their lives. What if we were being watched by one of his men? I didn’t want to leave any opportunity for a fatal misinterpretation of Kash’s rule. That, and I didn’t know if I’d survive another encounter with him or his men.

  “I need to be with them at all times,” I told Calish.

  “You are,” he said softly.