Calthraca: Secrets And The Sea [A Calthraca Novel]

by Camryn Cutler

  Unfazed by her kicking and fighting, he carried her to the circle. The chanting stopped then, and faster than she could register what it meant, the man threw her into the center of the group. She fell backward, aware that she was going to land in their fire, but was unable to stop her descent. The only thought she had before she blacked out was that it wasn't a fire at all; it was something else—something she'd never seen before.

  * * * *

  Kate awoke alone in the woods.

  Disoriented and frightened, she slowly gained her feet and checked herself to make sure she wasn't injured. She hated the shaky feeling in her legs, but didn't seem able to make it stop. She didn't have any injuries aside from a few cuts and scratches, and she let out a deep sigh of relief.

  Kate glanced furtively into the dark woods, convinced that every sound she heard meant they were returning, but there was no one around. She scanned the clearing where all the people had been only minutes before, and it appeared that no one had even been there at all. She decided that she'd feel a lot safer if she got back on the trail.

  Her backpack was on the ground near where she'd been thrown, and she hooked it over her shoulder, then hastily moved back toward where she thought the path was.

  As she walked, she turned over what had happened. The people had been chanting and singing, then stopped when the man had thrown her into their fire circle ... but it wasn't a fire. She hadn't gotten a terribly good look before she hit the ground, but it appeared to have been some sort of blue glowing disk, something strange and almost alien.

  She glanced around nervously once more, still unable to shake the fear that gripped her.

  Kate had been walking for nearly half an hour when she realized the ground beneath her feet was rumbling. Above her a flock of small birds took flight, frightened by a growing noise, something huge moving rapidly toward her. She hastily stepped back off the path just in time to avoid being trampled by dozens of men thundering by on horses.

  They were all dressed in a strange sort of uniform and carrying swords and banners. She watched them pass, entirely confused. Had she wandered into a group of reenactors? Maybe a movie set?

  When the last of them had passed, she moved cautiously back to the side of the road. This vacation was quickly becoming a nightmare, and she couldn't wait to find the next hostel.

  Checking her compass, and accounting for where she'd last looked at it, she made a rough guess as to where she needed to go and began to follow the road as it headed west.

  Since the horsemen, she hadn't seen another soul and she was struck by the quiet peace here. Earlier, before she'd come across the hooded singers, she'd passed other hikers and tours, but now, there was no one.

  According to her estimation, where there should have been towns, there was nothing but trees and rocks. She knew she couldn't possibly have gone that far off the trail and she checked her pocket GPS. It beeped stupidly at her and she rapped it against her palm a few times before stuffing it back into her pack in frustration. Instead she pulled out her map, found a stump to sit on, and studied. Her pedometer told her she'd walked twenty-two miles, and she should have arrived in Montreaux by now.

  Kate looked at the great expanse of fields, mountains and forest before her.

  "This is definitely not Montreaux,” she muttered.

  She looked around one last time and decided her best bet would be to continue west. “Worst case scenario, I end up in France, and then I'm going to have the biggest most fattening dessert I can get my hands on.” Kate stood and stretched, then began to walk again.

  She stopped about two hours later and ate one of her dehydrated packs. It wasn't crème brulé but it would do.

  Katherine was an experienced hiker, and having traveled most of the major parks and trails in the United States, she'd been eager to accomplish this trip through Europe, but now she worried this may have been a very bad idea. The gnawing fear of being attacked again had abated, but she was still puzzled over what it had all meant, and why had they thrown her into their circle?

  As darkness began to fall Kate realized she'd have to spend the night out here. She stepped down from the road and into the woods looking for a suitable spot to bed down.

  Once she decided where to sleep, she made a quick fire and laid out her bedroll, then located a small stream nearby and replenished her water supply, carefully adding tablets to make it potable.

  Finally she sat, and when she did, that shaky feeling returned. She'd managed to stave off the fear by keeping busy, but as it got darker, she worried more and more about who or what might be lurking in the darkness beyond her fire.

  "Pull it together, Katherine,” she said. “You haven't gotten where you are by falling apart over every little problem."

  She forced herself to calmness, and lay down upon her sleeping bag, convinced she wouldn't get any rest.

  When morning came, Kate awoke to sunshine filtering through the leafy canopy above her. Birds chirped in the trees and the air was warmer than it had been yesterday.

  She couldn't believe how soundly she'd slept. Must be the mountain air. She then began to break camp.

  Kate walked.

  There was a huge amount of wildlife here, and after she'd been startled by yet another deer crashing through the bushes, she guessed she must have wandered onto a game preserve or wildlife sanctuary, although none were visible on her map. She was heartened and kept watch for whatever passed for a game warden there.

  She took a break near noon and wrote in her travel diary, then ate another of her dehydrated packs and checked her supplies, figuring she would be safe for another two days—three if she were frugal.

  She had planned the solo trek to take her three days and was already into it by almost a full day when she'd run into the ... What the heck were they anyway?

  The weird hooded people.

  She spent another night in the woods, and finally on the third day, she encountered a couple driving an ox cart.

  "Pardon me,” she called. “I'm lost. Could you point the way to Montreaux?"

  They looked at her for a moment, and finally the man spoke. “We do not know such a town. You are on the road to Kirn."

  "Kirn? Oh ... okay, good.” At least it was a town. “Do you know how far?"

  "Maybe four leagues and I suggest you put your skirts on. There are sailors about."

  He looked her up and down then slapped the oxen on the rump and they began to move again.

  "Wait!” Kate exclaimed, and they stopped once more. “I don't have any skirts."

  The woman looked at the man and then moved into the cart. She rummaged about for a moment and found an old skirt. It was long like hers, nearly to the ground and dyed a dark russet color. “Here, take it."

  "What do I owe you for this?” Kate took the skirt and smiled slightly.

  "I'd have that pin on your blouse."

  Kate looked at her vest; it was the small gyroscopic compass she carried. She had a larger one in her pack and wouldn't need this one. She unfastened it and handed it to the woman who smiled.

  "Thank you again,” Kate said. She watched them leave and shook out the woolen skirt. It was clean and smelled a bit like cedar. She pulled it on over her shorts and buttoned it at the hip then pulled her belt around her waist to help hold it up.

  Kate turned and flared the skirts a bit then shook her head. Her hosts had told her some of the customs here were a little rigid, and it was often easier to just go along. “At least I'll fit in,” she said to no one.

  She walked for another five or six miles and heard the noise of the town before she actually saw it.

  Kirn, she discovered, was a fishing village, a seaport. What she couldn't believe though was the sight of the ships. Before her were schooners with tall masts and sails.

  Sails? Do they still use sails? How far have I walked?

  She continued down the road and got a closer look at the people. They were all dressed in costume, skirts and pantaloons and breeches. “I mu
st have wandered onto a movie set."

  Maybe the farmer had said actors and not sailors. Her French wasn't that good, so perhaps she'd misunderstood. She knew she needed to find someone who spoke English and heartened by having a plan, she made her way into the town. There was safety in numbers and Kate felt more confident than she had in two days. She would just find the director or someone; anyone who could help her sort this situation out and get her to her hostel.

  She saw people “working” at “jobs” but didn't see any cameras anywhere. No one spoke to her or looked at her strangely; she figured she must fit in well.

  She approached a woman in a wooden booth, crates of noisy chickens stacked behind her, and several small children played nearby.

  "Excuse me. Can you tell me where the director is?” Kate asked.

  "Director?"

  "Yes, you know the guy who says ‘action’ and ‘cut'?"

  The woman looked at her pityingly, as though she were mad. “I do not know what you speak of. Are you hungry?” She held up a loaf of bread.

  "No, thanks.” Kate looked around. She had walked onto a movie set, right? What else would explain the odd clothing and old-fashioned buildings? The lack of cars?

  Confidence and a plan had emboldened Kate, but as she wandered about town she had no idea she was being followed.

  When she moved away from the vendors, two men came up behind her.

  Kate nearly jumped out of her skin as a hand touched her arm. The incident with the hooded figures was still painfully fresh, and not far from her mind. Coupled with her confusion over where she was, Kate wasn't at all as calm as she wanted to believe.

  Now it was two men who grabbed her before she could yell for help, dragging her into a nearby alley.

  Panic clarified everything for Kate, and she saw a man who turned and walked away, unwilling to assist her. “Help me!” she shrieked, but no one came to her aid.

  One of the men produced a rope and tried to bind her hands but Kate fought him hard, punching and scratching. She screamed and thrashed, but the other man grabbed her wrists and held her while the first one tied her. In the end the two men were simply too strong for her to fight alone.

  Once they'd gotten her tied hand and foot, they carried her to a cart and dumped her into it, tossing her pack beside her, then climbed into the wagon and began driving.

  Kate continued yelling at them, swearing a blue streak. After numerous attempts to quiet her with threats of violence, the first man stopped the cart and the second climbed in beside Kate and pulled out a long silk strip.

  "Don't you dare gag me, you son of a—"

  He wrapped her head tightly and she glared at him. He grinned down at her, showing a set of distinctly rotten teeth, and she turned her head, disgusted.

  They drove over long roads full of ruts and bumps, and Kate's back was in agony from the constant pounding against the rough planks of the cart. After several hours she leaned to her left, attempting to find a comfortable position, then lay down and closed her eyes.

  She must have dozed because when she awoke, it was fully dark and they had stopped.

  The goons came around to the back and yanked her from the wagon. Kate kicked her bound feet out at them, striking one in the face, gaining a little grim satisfaction at the pained groan. The other man jerked her out of the back of the cart and struck her hard across the cheek. She made a muffled cry and the one she'd kicked grabbed her by the hair.

  "You will behave or we will beat you.” He slapped her again, not as hard, but hard enough to emphasize his point. “Do you understand?"

  She nodded, snuffling as tears coursed down her face. Fear and anger clashed inside her but there was nothing she could do. The helplessness of her situation had settled in.

  The second man bent, pulled her over his shoulder and carried her down a path to a short pier and then aboard a small clipper ship.

  Kate twisted and turned trying to escape, but she knew her struggles were useless, even if she managed to get him to drop her, she couldn't run.

  Her abductor did drop her, none too gently, upon the floor of a small cabin then exited, locking the door behind him. There were several other women already aboard and most were about her age or a bit younger. All of them looked as terrified as Kate felt.

  Through the night they sat waiting to find out what would happen, some of them crying softly. When dawn began to color the sky, the clipper rocked and shuddered, creaking loudly as they took the tide.

  A few hours later someone entered the room. An older, matronly woman approached them; behind her one of the men entered and began to untie the girls. “My name is Almah. I am the head mistress.” The woman spoke English and Kate snapped to attention. “You will all be taken to use the head, and then we will discuss what is going to happen to you. After which we will eat."

  One by one, the women were taken to a rudimentary toilet that was little more than a hole above the water at the stern of the ship, and then brought back to the room where Almah had opened the shuttered windows to let some light in. The tension in the small cabin began to thicken as they waited to be told exactly what was going to happen.

  Kate watched them all sitting like sheep and decided to act. “What is going on here?” she demanded.

  "You are all being brought to Tartak where you will be sold as slaves,” Almah explained.

  "What? Are you insane? I'm not a slave. I'm an American citizen and I demand you let me go."

  "Protest is pointless and futile,” Almah said. “Your fate has been determined."

  "The hell it has! I'm not going to take this.” Kate stood and opened the door then stepped into the short hallway up to the ladder to climb to the deck. She emerged to bright sunlight and squinted as she looked around. She saw they were far out at sea. No land was visible from any direction.

  "What do you think you're doing?” It was the man whose nose she'd broken. He strode to where she stood upon the deck and grabbed her by the arm.

  "Let go of me!” she batted at him and he tightened his grip. Wordlessly he dragged her down below, and then threw her into the room once more, slamming the door shut behind him.

  "How's your nose? You jerk!” Kate rubbed her arm.

  "If you will just try to calm down, and listen, I will explain,” Almah said. She was calm and collected which upset Kate further. She knew this woman was used to hysterical girls, and right now, that was exactly how she felt, alone, and a little hysterical.

  Kate looked at her with tears in her eyes. “I don't belong here,” she said sadly.

  Almah sighed and caressed her cheek. “None of us do; nevertheless, here we are.” She turned and addressed them all. “This is what will happen; you will all be taken to Tartak, a country in the south. You will be put up for sale in the slave market by our owners, Raji and Abdallah."

  Once more her knees felt weak and rubbery, and Kate sat heavily. Owners? Put up for sale? Oh God, what the hell have I gotten into?

  Sudden shrill beeping startled everyone. Kate looked around for her pack and slowly stood. Picking it up, she reached in and pulled out her travel alarm clock. She touched the off button and looked around.

  All of the women were looking at her. She held it up and smiled a little as the girl closest to her backed away.

  She stuffed it back into her bag and sat again, holding her head in her hands. Almah began again. “Yes ... as I was saying, Abdallah and Raji will sell you. Those of you who are virgins will be auctioned to special buyers."

  Some of the girls began to cry, and Kate felt momentarily sad for them until she realized she was in the same predicament, and she wanted to cry for herself. Instead she took a deep breath, trying to shake the surreal, disconnected feeling; the shock that threatened to overtake her.

  "The others will be sold outright. If you cooperate, you will be treated gently; if you resist you will be punished.” She looked sharply at Kate.

  When they arrived at their destination, a port city that was surrounded
by land that was hot and desertlike, they were taken to a low, dusty building in town and hustled inside.

  A man whom they said was a physician examined all of the girls. He poked and roughly probed and pinched everywhere, leaving Kate humiliated and horrified. From there, her days took on a monotonous pace of being trotted out and shown off, then sent back to the women's area. The people she was shown to did not wish to buy her. Apparently blonde women were considered ill luck. Her glares and snarls were probably a deterrent as well.

  Abdallah ordered her moved from the relative comfort of the women's area to one of the small dank cells normally used for men. When they came for her, she fought them like a shrew, kicking and trying to bite anyone who touched her. She might be unable to escape, but she certainly wasn't going to roll over and let them sell her like a piece of meat. Kate put up a good fight until one well placed blow to the jaw rendered her unconscious. She awoke in a small dark room two days later.

  Her hands were bound above her head with a strong leather cord. It was thin and dug into her skin painfully. She stood flat on her feet, and when she tried to move or shift her weight, she felt the cord sink in another fraction of an inch.

  Unbidden, her mind ran back to the man Abdallah had brought to see her earlier, or maybe the night before? She couldn't recall; time seemed to have no meaning for her anymore, she didn't even know how long she'd been a prisoner.

  A sharp tang of fear leaped into her mouth at the thought of him. Waves of malevolence had radiated from the man; he was terrifying, and horribly scarred.

  Kate knew instinctively he had wanted her, and he planned to hurt her. The way he'd looked at her, like a wolf contemplating its next kill, made her want to start begging for her life, and somehow she knew he'd enjoy that.

  Kate could hear the movements of people approaching and she was paralyzed by fear. What if it was the man?

  Slow tears began to roll down her cheeks. How the hell had she gotten into this mess? She decided that the only way to get through this was to toughen up. When she showed fear, it was a weakness she didn't want them to see, and when she was strong, it frightened them somewhat. Apparently, they weren't accustomed to strong women.