by Joe Zeigler
“Many were the nights I would be missing from my family’s shelter during the migrations,” Oilabis continued. “My mother knew, but my father never found out.”
“Why were you bad only during the migrations? Were these the only times that you…uh, you know?” Maxtla asked, puzzled.
“Oh…well…the migrations were—and still are—grand affairs”—she smiled—“with many families and other groups. It was easy to cull out a young man I could be fairly sure I’d never see again. And if we did see each other again, it would be much later, after passions cooled. The few whose paths crossed mine again would simply smile at me, a smile reflecting pleasant memories. I would smile sweetly back, and he would be gone, as absorbed with his current life as I was with mine.”
“Ullah, did you know of this?” Maxtla asked, shocked and bewildered by Oilabis’s confessions and simultaneously wondering that she did not seem to be confessing. There was no shame or evasiveness in her telling.
“Oh, sure. I didn’t mind, once she had chosen me. And she definitely learned some tricks. A couple of nights with Oilabis will cure any man of his desire for virgins. She could raise me to such heights of ecstasy.” He smiled, looking at the withered old woman.
“I still could if you would let me,” Oilabis said and giggled like a young girl, incongruously displaying the gaps in her teeth. Ullah laughed with her. Micaela smiled. Maxtla was at a loss.
The last of the column finally disappeared down the trail, and Maxtla followed. He would go to the first broad area directly below, and as soon as it was clear, Micaela would lower the already bundled goods.
Having arranged everything into two loads, she checked the rope yet again, coiling it carefully into a figure eight so it would not tangle or snag.
Maxtla whistled when he was ready. Micaela looked over the edge and saw him waving fifty feet below. Bracing, she lifted the first bundle and stepped toward the edge.
“Stop,” a voice behind her commanded. “Don’t lower that!”
Startled, she turned. “Uggla,” she exclaimed in shock, then excitement. Micaela smiled happily and said, “You are back! You are all right!” Her eyes were bright with joy as she dropped the bundle and moved toward him. Uggla straight-armed her, stopping her advance. Her smiling countenance abruptly changed to confusion. Only then did Micaela see the two Raiders—recognizing what they were by their clothes—standing behind Uggla.
“This is the one I told you about,” he said, “and here is the rest and most valuable of Ohad’s goods, just as I promised you. And Ohad will give us everything else he has to get this woman back. Bring the bundles, and I’ll bring the female.”
Understanding struck Micaela like a boulder from on high. Uggla is a traitor; he joined the Raiders and is about to steal Ohad’s goods and kidnap me. She attacked…swarming Uggla like a host of angry hornets, her fists flew in quick, wild motions. Uggla, perhaps twice her size, initially fell back but soon recovered and tried to subdue her by wrapping his arms around her. Micaela head-butted him under the chin, causing him to stagger and release her. As the two Raiders looked on in amusement, Micaela pressed her attack, fists flying. Uggla continued to retreat, a little shaken but not actually injured by the blows from the young girl. Realizing that he was the object of ridicule from the two other men, he slapped Micaela on the side of her head. The impact almost lifted her from the ground, and she pulled back, circling to her left to prevent Uggla from winding up his right arm. Once she worked her way around him so that he was between her and the cliff edge, she advanced once again, only to move directly into a roundhouse that knocked her backward onto her butt. Her vision turned red with flashes of bright light. Regardless, her anger pushed through, and she raised herself upright to meet Uggla’s next attack.
Then, with a war cry of such volume that everyone was startled into stillness, Ullah charged Uggla. He moved with the speed and agility of a young man. Ignoring his ruined hip, his lack of breath and balance, and his depleted muscles, he collided with Uggla at full tilt, launching both of them beyond the cliff edge and into empty space. Oilabis screamed, but Ullah was gone, his war cry still echoing from the surrounding mountains. Then Uggla’s panicked cry joined it.
Maxtla, startled by Ullah’s bellow, saw the objects falling toward him. At first, he thought Micaela had gone crazy and dropped both bundles at once. Is she trying to kill me? He wondered. Why? Moving quickly to get out of the way and looking up at the same time, he realized what was falling toward him just as he ran into the cliff wall with his face. Ignoring his now broken nose, Maxtla turned his head and extended his arms to each side, pressing his body as tightly against the wall as possible. He heard the thud behind him as the two bodies hit almost simultaneously. Shaken, he continued to grip the wall, not knowing what was coming next.
Above, the two men laughed and moved to secure Micaela and the bundles. They quickly tied her hands behind her back and hobbled her ankles in such a way that she could walk but not run. Ignoring the old lady, who was sobbing and curled into the fetal position on the edge of the cliff, one dropped a loop of rope over Micaela’s head and secured the other end of the twelve-foot lead to his wrist. Each man hoisted a bundle and, still laughing, started up the trail north—back the way Micaela had come the day before.
Maxtla, having heard the laughter following the impact, immediately understood…Raiders. Finally releasing his grip on the mountain, he turned and recognized the bodies of Uggla and Ullah. What happened up there? he wondered. Had Uggla escaped and been chased down and caught just as Micaela was about to lower the bundles? What had happened to Micaela? The thought of quickly running to Micaela’s rescue and becoming a hero in her eyes appealed to him for a second, maybe longer, but his sense of self-preservation made him quickly reject the idea. He’d wait for events to unfold and then be ready to retreat down the trail.
***
The two Raiders had not gone far before stopping to adjust Micaela’s hobble. They had initially made it too short for her to keep their pace. They quickly noticed and realized it needed adjustment. It seemed they had done this before and knew how to accomplish an efficient kidnapping.
“You have Ohad’s goods,” she exclaimed. “Why burden yourselves with me? I’ll only slow you down and am of no value. Leave me here…please.”
“Move,” the taller one commanded, ignoring her pleas.
***
Maxtla finally moved up the trail to the top. Micaela and the bundles were gone. The old woman, Oilabis, was gathering her belongings and bundling them for transport, her hysteria having passed.
“Well, young man,” she said, “it looks like I’ll be pressing on after all. Upon consideration, it seems that Ullah had more than one motive for his heroic charge to his death. In any case, with him gone, my sacrifice is no longer necessary, so I’ll be catching up with the People below.”
“Indeed,” Maxtla replied. “I assume the Raiders caught up with Uggla here and threw him and Ullah over the edge. What happened to Micaela and Ohad’s bundles?”
“Micaela is gone, taken by the Raiders, along with Ohad’s goods. They went north an hour or more ago. It was Uggla’s plan to attack Micaela here, to kidnap her and take Ohad’s property. Uggla was a traitor! He was attempting to subdue Micaela violently when Ullah attacked to defend her and carried Uggla over the edge with him.”
“Uggla was with them?” Maxtla said in disbelief.
“He was, and worse! All of this was Uggla’s plan. He told the Raiders that Micaela was hauling the best of Ohad’s goods and that she could be caught alone on the cliff top, lowering the bundles. Then it was his plan to kidnap Micaela for ransom to be paid by Ohad.”
Maxtla stared up the trail as if to get a last look at Micaela and her captors. But they were gone, over a mile away, about to turn east.
***
The three moved easily through the pine forest now that Micaela had adjusted to her restraints and was cooperative. She had quickly realized there was no bene
fit to be had by fighting them. Perhaps if help were on the way, then an attempt to slow them down would be supportive. Maxtla had been the only one near enough to pursue them, and for more than one reason, she didn’t expect that to happen. He could do nothing against these two if he did catch them, and he would realize that. So, the best plan was to cooperate and watch for a chance to escape.
Turning east, they left the well-defined trail and followed some unseen path through the scattered pine trees. It was easy, for the undergrowth consisted of short grass, and the large volcanic stones only sprinkled the ground, posing no hindrance to their progress. The men did not speak to her or each other, and to Micaela’s relief, they seemed satisfied with the moderate pace she was maintaining.
***
The People had cleared the drop with no incidents other than a few spilled loads—no falls or even injuries. Danijel was pleased, and he thought, This is enough for today. Though the top of the cliff was less than a mile away as the bird flies, and the winding trail less than three miles, it had been an arduous trek. He suggested they make camp. They would spend the night by the stream at the bottom of the drop. This would also allow time for Micaela to catch up after lowering Ohad’s goods. As he was thinking of the man’s goods, Danijel saw Ohad by the waterfall, looking upward at the face of the cliff, anxious for his merchandise.
A cry attracted Danijel’s attention to the trail where it emerged from a thick stand of pines at the edge of the cliff. It was Maxtla, who, seeing Danijel standing on a ledge, ran toward him, arriving out of breath.
“Raiders! Raiders on the top of the cliff have taken Micaela and killed Uggla and Ullah! I was at the first lowering point when Uggla and Ullah were thrown off the cliff. I ran as fast as I could up to the top and discovered only Oilabis. She is behind me on the trail. I came ahead to tell you what happened. I wanted to go after the kidnappers, but Oilabis dissuaded me, insisting it was more important to see that she got down and for me to tell you. She said that you would know what to do.”
***
Micaela and her captors were now descending rapidly. As they passed through a large clearing, Micaela could see the flat plain and the mouth of the gorge ahead. It was harder moving downhill with the hobble. She was in constant danger of pulling the rope up short and going down.
“Stop, please,” she pleaded. “I’m going to fall. The hobble is too short for the slope.” She was a bit surprised when they responded, stopped, and exchanged whispers.
Then one came over and removed the hobble. “You have not given trouble, so you have earned this privilege. Do not betray my trust, or it will go badly for you.”
Micaela nodded.
Soon they were at the bottom of the gorge. It was much easier than the drop, and Micaela wondered why the People had not taken this route. Another mile brought them to the mouth of the gorge and the Raiders who were camped by the river. From this vantage, it was clear what was wrong with this route compared to the drop. The river filled the mouth of the gorge. There was no flat ground on either side. No one will be going that way, she thought, not realizing how wrong she was.
They led Micaela down to a group of women working by the river. Some were washing; others were weaving.
They sought out Wenerdu, the Prophet’s number one wife. She was a middle-aged woman, with long black hair and a little thickness around the middle. But she exuded a sensuality unmatched by females half her age. It was in her eyes, her bearing, and her movements. Men were captivated by her at first sight, though they couldn’t say why. The Prophet enjoyed walking with her, knowing all who saw him with her were green with envy and lust.
This day she was leading the other women during washing day. She wanted everything ready for the coming trip downriver.
“Wenerdu, we have a captive girl for you.”
She turned from her washing and looked at Micaela. She was pleased with what she saw—a young one, with good feminine attributes and symmetrical features.
“What’s your name, child?”
“Micaela, of the Upper River family, traveling with Danijel’s People.”
“Release her hands.”
One of the men who had captured her carefully began to untie the rope that bound her hands. Rope was precious and was handled carefully.
“What can you do?”
“Do? I don’t understand.”
“Do, child…What can you do? Can you cook, wash, clean fish…What can you do?”
“Oh, I can do all of that, and I can weave baskets, skin, tan, gather, make medicines from herbs…many things.”
“Well, we’re washing now. Go on down and help,” Wenerdu ordered, not unkindly.
“Yes, ma’am,” Micaela found herself saying, much to her surprise. She didn’t know what she had expected…. It had occurred to her that she would be beaten, ravished, bound, and tied…she didn’t know. She had not expected this. Initially, the other women were curious. But after an hour, she was just one of the girls doing the wash in an encampment of evil, dangerous, wicked, thieving people. At least, this is what she had been told all of her life and therefore, believed of the Raiders.
From the other girls, she learned that she was not to be ransomed as Uggla had said. Most likely, she was told, she would be married to one who was worthy.
“There is always a shortage of young girls,” the girl working beside her said. “The righteous are rewarded with multiple women, and they want young ones.”
“What do you mean, multiple women?” Micaela asked, thinking the girl must be referring to servants. “Surely you don’t mean as mates?”
“Certainly, for that is what God intends; it is what he commands. We must raise up seed unto him. Only those who are commanded by God are allowed to do this, and these are the most worthy.”
“Surely not,” Micaela said, shocked. She had heard of a man living with more than one woman, usually sisters when it was necessary. But it was very rare. And the women she knew with mates were constantly complaining that they were not having sex often enough to satisfy them. Multiple women could not help that situation.
“Yes, I understand that is what you are used to, as was I before I was taken. In time, the truth will be revealed to you. You must open yourself to him and search your soul. You must submit and commune with God to reconcile yourself to this practice.”
“What god is this that you call on?”
“Why…Sun, of course. There is only one True God, and he is the Sun.”
“Yes, the Sun of God, who is God. I know of him, the One. Yet I have never heard of his requiring many women to service a single man,” Micaela said vaguely as her mind tried to understand what the girl had said and how it affected her new situation. “Who decides which are worthy and awards young girls to them?”
“The Prophet…well, really, God does. God speaks through the Prophet—they are called revelations. Our faith is based on receiving revelations or direction from God. We use the gift of the Spirit, who is God. We have the laying on of hands by someone appointed by God, to receive the revelation from God. We get revelation from God through the Prophet. These revelations include naming the worthy and their rewards.”
“You say you make baskets,” Wenerdu challenged. “Please make one for me about this size.” She spread her hands to indicate the size.
Micaela was pleased to be asked. Her treatment by these people was far better than she had feared. And Wenerdu was thrilled with Micaela’s first basket produced in her new home. Wenerdu went on about the tightness of the weave. “I believe it will hold water,” she said, “and the pattern is marvelous.” Micaela had never received such praise from her family—none, ever, from Ohad—and was pleased.
The next day, as she sat by the river, starting a new basket, she noticed most of the men working, dragging logs down from the forest and lashing them together. They were, she learned, making rafts to float the Raiders downstream. Micaela had never heard of or even thought of such a thing. Even though her family lived half of the
ir life beside a river, they did not use it for transportation.
After all, she thought, the river flows so fast, how would you get the raft back upstream? This was going to be an adventure that provoked the question—where were they going? She didn’t think this was the same river the group with her family was following. That stream fell from the top of the cliff, and they were well below the height of the cliff and well north. No, it had to be a different river, which went…where? Then she remembered that the river flowing from the Highland had turned east as they entered the desert and then rejoined the trail beneath the drop. This must be the same river.
Eijá’s End
The four young men who had taken Eijá had very different plans. Yalk removed her clothes as she stood compliantly, in shock, staring at the body of the male she now understood she had chosen for her mate without being consciously aware of doing so. Sgom, the leader of the four men, selected a long pole about three inches in diameter and held it horizontally against her back, with her elbows behind it. Another of the young men tied her hands together, the rope running across her naked belly.
Sgom laughed. “Now we have a handle on her.” He dropped a loop of rope over her head and started downhill, heading east. Eijá, naked in the midafternoon chill, was only vaguely aware of what was happening. Visions and thoughts of the boy seized her mind. She could see him walking in front of her, leading her away from camp, ostensibly to gather herbs. She smiled. Then the image, in color, of his violent death materialized before her, and she gasped and tripped cutting her toe badly. The two men walking behind her each grabbed one end of the pole and caught her before she went down.
She was aware of being cold though it was a feeling outside of her as if she were remote from her naked body. Her feet were tough but still damaged from tripping over stones and outcrops. It was hard to maintain her balance with her arms pinned. The blood seeped from her toes and made the bottom of her feet slippery acerbating her plight.
