by Joe Zeigler
After traveling a little over two hours, Sgom signed for them to stop in a small clearing. He then threw the rope over a tree branch, pulled it tight, and tied it off. Already exhausted, Eijá was forced to stand, balanced on her bloody toes and extended to her maximum height. The men sat and broke out dried meat. As they ate, they eyed Eijá. The pole across her back hooked her elbows, and the rope across her belly tied her hands, forcing her to arch backward, presenting her thin, well-shaped body to them. She felt their eyes on her, and she became more aware of her situation. She was coming to accept what had happened. She had little choice but to focus; if she relaxed, the rope around her neck tightened.
“Excellent.”
“Yes,” Sgom replied.
“I’d like to have some of that,” the third man, Lotan, said.
“We must bring her to the Prophet, which is his order,” Yalk said.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sgom replied, “we will. Just not yet.”
“You mean what I think?” the third man asked.
“Hard to resist, isn’t she? Let’s leave her strung up for a while, though. After some time in that position, she’ll be compliant.” Sgom said knowingly.
“You have the patience of a saint,” Yalk said. “But I’m not sure about this.”
Sgom rose and walked over in front of Eijá. He cupped a breast in each hand and jiggled them. “So, Yalk, what are you saying?” he asked as he smiled. He gave Eijá a little shove that knocked her off-balance, so she was hanging from her neck. Her legs scrambled beneath her as she tried to regain her balance and slacken the rope around her neck. Every time she got a foot positioned to take some weight off, her body spun away. Her face was turning red, and her eyes were bulging when Sgom finally pushed her upright. Still, she was slowly strangling and now was aware of nothing else.
“Yeah,” he said, smiling, “she’ll be cooperative.” He reached around her neck with two hands and loosened the noose a little, and she gasped.
Sgom produced a skin of blue agave, and they drank as they watched Eijá repeatedly start to doze off and then jerk to attention when the noose tightened.
When the skin was empty, Sgom released the rope and grasped one end of the pole as Lotan gripped the other end. They pushed down and forward until Eijá was on the ground on her knees with her face in the pine needles. “Thank you,” she whispered gratefully.
“Raise your butt higher,” Yalk ordered. She struggled to comply afraid of the noose.
“Now there is an appealing sight,” Sgom commented. “I’ll go first.”
They didn’t take long. Untying her, Sgom said, “Get up, we have to be moving.”
“May I have my garments? I am cold now.”
“Carry them along with the pole. For now, you walk behind me.”
She nodded as he handed her the clothes. Then she picked up the pole. She watched him anxiously as he recovered the noose from the tree. He looked at her as he coiled the rope and she did her best to smile at him—completely cowed.
With Sgom leading the way, they moved downhill toward their planned rendezvous with the main body of the Raiders. As her boyfriend had observed earlier that day, Eijá was a tantalizing sight from behind, and her nakedness just accentuated the panorama. It wasn’t but five miles before Yalk recovered from his earlier exertions, and his body started to respond.
Just then, Sgom was leading them across a stream bed cut by rapidly moving water. He turned and ordered, “Clean yourself, girl.” His gaze moved down to Yalk’s groin. He smiled and continued, “We will rest here for a time.”
Seeing no purpose in resistance and seeing Yalk again fondling the noose, Eijá set down the pole and her bundle of clothes and waded into the stream. The four men sat on the high ground beside her and watched. She saw that Yalk was now stroking his male member and quickly looked away. The water was cold, her skin reacted with goose bumps, and her feet were blue. She didn’t notice. After cleaning herself, she sat on a log beside the stream, her cold feet in the water, her mind was blank, and she was braiding her hair simply from long habit.
“What are you doing? Get over here,” Yalk called, unable to stand the tension any longer. His voice jarred her back to horrible reality, and she moved quickly to comply hoping they would not tie her up again.
The scenario established earlier in the day played again, though this time, it went on longer. The four men, their stamina strengthened by familiarity, repeated each position twice, and Eijá was a virgin no longer.
Despite her cooperation, Lotan held the pole behind her back as Sgom hooked her arms around it and once again tied her wrists across her belly. Her body shuddered in despair.
The men huddled together, out of the hearing range of Eijá, who now hung suspended by the pole between two young trees. Only her bloody feet touched the ground. “We cannot take her with us,” Sgom said. “She would have made an excellent mate for one of the worthy elders had we not had our way with her.”
“Yep,” Yalk replied, “and there is no way to put that back in the skin. The elders will be furious with us when they find out.”
Lotan looked worried but said nothing.
“If they find out,” Sgom contradicted. “We are presently north of camp, and the main body is heading south. It will be a year or more before any of our people are in this area again.”
“Are you saying that we should kill her?”
“No,” Sgom replied, “we don’t need to do that. Yalk, we should leave her, right now, forget her, forget this happened, and never speak of it again, even among ourselves. The forest will take care of her.”
Rescue
“You did the right thing,” Danijel assured Maxtla. “How long ago did this happen?”
“Less than a half an hour,” Maxtla replied. “I climbed back up to the top as soon as I realized something was wrong. It took me some time to organize Oilabis and get her moving down. But then I ran the rest of the way down.”
“What’s going on? What’s happening?” Ohad now inserted himself into the small space between Danijel and Maxtla. “Is it about my goods? Tell me,” he demanded.
“Soon enough, Ohad; wait! Glooscap, come over here, please…quickly,” Danijel ordered. This cannot stand, he realized. Micaela is essential to our progress here. Too much effort has been invested in her development, and she has come too far to be lost now.
Glooscap, who had been preparing for the hunt, hurried over, surprised at the directness of the command.
“Glooscap, organize twenty of our best hunters. Micaela has been taken from the top by Raiders. They headed north a half an hour ago.”
Ohad grunted, and Danijel added, “They have also stolen two bundles of Ohad’s goods. Hurry, they already have a half-hour lead.”
“More like an hour and a half or even two,” Oilabis commented. She had just arrived and heard the last part of the conversation.
“Get going. I’ll catch up,” Danijel ordered Glooscap, causing him to go running off, shouting to others as he passed. Within minutes, twenty-one young hunters were moving rapidly up the path.
“Which is it, Maxtla, a half hour or two hours?”
“It might have been longer than a half an hour,” Maxtla replied, hanging his head.
“Tell everyone that we will be staying here. Then organize the remaining men for a hunt tomorrow.” He knew that with few men left, the camp would be unprotected, but his rescue party would be between this camp and the Raiders, and they also needed meat. They would be safe, or so he thought. When all was organized, he started up the trail, back to the top to catch the searchers. He would catch them—he was Danijel.
The rescue party was still on top by the edge of the cliff when Danijel arrived. “What have you found?” he asked.
“They have been gone for some time,” Glooscap replied. “It will be dark very soon, and there is no moon tonight. We should stay here and take up pursuit in the morning.”
Danijel reluctantly nodded.
Discarded
> It had been a long time since Eijá had heard anything other than the sounds of the forest. She assumed the four men were napping off their exertions, which had left her feeling as if she had been beaten with a stick. Well, she thought, I guess I have been. Her knees ached from being pinned to the ground, and now pain was shooting through her arms, which were still hooked around the pole that suspended her torso.
She squirmed and tried to awaken the sleeping men. She could barely force air out of her mouth, and she accomplished only a groan. Still, she heard no sound, and now she was shivering from the cold. The Sun was very low, and the chill was coming fast.
They are gone! The thought exploded in her head. I’m alone, tied up, unprotected in the forest. She swung her head rapidly from side to side, the only motion she was capable of, looking for the men and seeing nothing but forest. And flies.
The flies had discovered her and were exploring their prize.
She was sure now. The men had left her to the cold and to the animals. Worse yet, in the morning, the buzzards would arrive. If she made it until morning. Her limbs had gone numb now, and her consciousness was tenuous. She started to drift off but flies forced themselves into her open mouth and nostrils, awakening her.
***
The two scouts following her trail were no more than twenty-five yards away, setting up camp for the night. Even if Eijá had been aware of their proximity, she could make no sound audible farther than a few feet away.
“We will catch them tomorrow,” Cuidightheach exclaimed, sounding very sure.
Gwuune believed him. He had great respect for Cuidightheach’s ability to track, and he was acknowledged among the men as a great hunter and warrior—second only to Gwuune himself. And they knew he had earned that honor by bravery in battle, skill in the hunt, and loyalty. They had all witnessed Cuidightheach in action.
“Yes, the trail keeps getting fresher. We’ll leave at the first glimmer of light and be on them by midmorning,” Gwuune replied.
He stretched his lean body, pulled his long fur coat tightly around himself, and lay down on a bed of leaves. Bending his knees, he drew his legs up into the protection of his warm skin. Gwuune was a fit young man of sixteen years; athletic and quick, he was Danijel’s most dependable scout. He would usually be with Cuidightheach, who was young, fifteen years, and without a mate. Cuidightheach was the better hunter. He had an almost unnatural rapport with animals, and it allowed him to anticipate their movements. After a kill, they both made a point to thank the animal’s spirit for providing sustenance.
“She must be slowing them down a lot for us to catch them this rapidly.”
His more experienced partner suspected what was happening, but keeping it to himself, he grunted and said, “Go to sleep.”
Pursuit
The next morning, as the first sliver of Sun broke the horizon, Danijel led the men north after the Raiders.
The track was difficult to follow on the well-churned trail that they and other groups had recently traversed, and they missed the place where the Raiders had left the main path. They climbed for two days before realizing they had lost the trail.
“They must have turned off behind us,” Danijel said, stating the obvious.
“Yes,” Glooscap replied, “we’ve not seen sign for two days. They are behind us.”
“Set camp. We’ll start back down in the morning. Put out flankers on each side of the trail to look for signs.”
“That will slow us down a lot,” Glooscap said.
“Nothing is slower than moving rapidly in the wrong direction,” Danijel observed. “Set camp and brief the men. We’ll leave at first light.”
Glooscap had been right. It was a slow and hard-going process for the flankers. A day and a half later, they found where the Raiders had left the trail and turned to the east. The five sets of footprints were readily apparent on the bare earth of the clearings and in the grass of the forest floor. From the length of the stride, the five were not in a terrible hurry. Danijel continued to lead his men forward as the light started to fail. They would have to stop soon and resume the chase in the light of morning.
It was late twilight when Danijel stepped out of the woods and into a clearing surrounded by large stones. It struck him as easily defended, so he ordered a halt for the night. If the Raiders were still on the trail, they would have to stop as well. Danijel and his men would catch up with the main group in the morning.
***
Gwuune and Cuidightheach, in pursuit of Eijá, were moving before sunup. Only a soft glow crept into the sky, but it provided enough light by which to travel.
“We will not be able to track the sign until the Sun comes up,” the younger man said.
“No, but the trail is clear, and we’ll confirm we’re on their track as soon as the Sun is up. If we’ve lost it, we will simply move sideways until we cut their trail. That will not take long.”
They had not gone far when the trail opened up into a small clearing. An ideal spot to set camp, Gwuune thought as he looked around the clearing.
“What’s that? Defend!” he exclaimed, seeing a shape between two young trees. He jerked his spear upward toward the possible threat. His first thought was that a Raider was crouched in ambush. But the shape didn’t move, and if it was a person, it seemed to be facing away from him. He retreated from the clearing, fading back into the forest as his eyes darted around, assessing the threat.
The sky was rapidly becoming brighter, and within moments he was better able to assess the situation. “It’s Eijá,” he whispered in horror. He crept around the periphery of the clearing before going to her, mindful that she might be bait for a trap.
Cuidightheach joined him, his mouth agape. As he understood what he was seeing, the image drove any thought of an ambush from his mind. He laid his hand on the girl.
“She’s very cold,” Cuidightheach observed to no one in particular.
“Is she alive?” Gwuune asked.
“I’m not sure.” Cuidightheach laid down his spear, drew his knife, and sliced through the ropes that bound Eijá, betraying the state of his mind. In ordinary circumstances, he would never cut a rope. Gwuune said nothing.
Micaela Adjusts
The next morning, as the Raiders started to push completed rafts toward the water, Micaela realized that they were about to depart. She didn’t really know much about the Raiders, and what she thought she knew had proved to be wrong. So far, she had had little contact with the men, but the women she worked with were just like the women of her family at home. The polygamy arrangement was strange. Well, maybe not that strange. Her People sometimes had polygamous relationships, though she had never heard of such when it wasn’t born of necessity. For instance, when a man was killed, his widow would often go to live with his brother, her brother-in-law, and his wife. This was especially true if the widow had young children to be raised. At least there was some shared bond.
She had never experienced polygamy for its own sake, for stature, position, and ego. It had not directly affected her—at least not yet. A shiver went through her body, and she pushed the thought out of her mind.
“Micaela,” Wenerdu called, coming up behind her. “I want you to cook this evening’s supper for the single women. I will assist you.”
Micaela knew this to be a further test of her skills, but she welcomed the chance to be busy, productive, and relatively free. Yes, she thought, free. At least, that was how she felt. She could walk throughout the camp at will and thus far had not discovered any boundaries. She imagined they existed and knew she wasn’t actually free. Is anyone really free? she wondered. A strange idea and stranger yet was that she had no thoughts of escaping, no more than when she had been with the family, with Ohad.
Supper went well, Micaela receiving praise from all the women. They were surprised by the vegetables Micaela steamed in the basket she had finished earlier that day. Vegetables were Micaela’s favorite foods, and she enjoyed them much more than tough, oily meat. She st
eamed them just right, so they were still crisp, not soggy as they were when boiled.
Wenerdu was pleased both with Micaela’s skills and with the fact that she fitted into the group with the right attitude. There was no whining, complaining, or despairing about missing her friends and parents. She decided to speak to the Prophet soon. It would be good to have the girl mated before they went downstream. Wenerdu smiled—this would be a record for integrating a girl into the tribe, and the Prophet would be pleased, as Wenerdu had four girls ready to be mated to their eternal masters. She looked forward to presenting the girl to her sister wives tonight.
Lofn
“Everyone seems so nice here,” Micaela was saying to the young girl, Lofn, working beside her. She had approached Micaela, asking to apprentice in basket weaving. She was clean and neat in her appearance, and Micaela was pleased to be accepted as a mentor. Later she learned that Lofn had been captured far south in the narrow land where the Raiders had wintered the year before. She had worked hard to be accepted and trusted and had avoided being used by the warriors. She was a storyteller who gained respect by telling stories around the fire in the evening, describing faraway lands and great adventures. Each evening the story ended on a suspenseful note, leaving the listeners anxious to hear it continued the next evening.
This day, Micaela had her preparing the frame—the vertical reeds—of the next basket. While they worked, they talked. Micaela asked, “Why are they so bad? They steal and rob. The men look capable. Can they not hunt successfully and the women forage?”
“Oh, but they can. The raids are not about food and things. And we don’t call ourselves Raiders. We are the Chosen. Chosen by God to go forth and populate the world, spreading the Word of the One True God, and his name is Sun. You misunderstand—we take things not because we cannot hunt and forage but because there is no time for that. Scouting, planning, and the raids themselves keep us very busy.”
