by M. Garnet
Although eyes followed her, no one stopped her, and there were a few smiles. By this time one of the things she could use was a bath, but she didn't see any hut that looked like a steam or shower hut. She did hear some laughter off to the side away from the huts and covers, and this drew her attention.
Reaching the grassy banks of a small clear brook she saw in the distance some of the people in the water. Some were washing themselves, and their green wrappings and others were just playing and splashing.
The brook looked inviting; so making a quick trip back to her assigned hut, she grabbed her backpack with clean clothes in it and headed directly to the stream. Margo was glad to miss the girl, figuring the child was out looking for her.
Walking fast all the way back to the stream, she sat down and began taking off her boots and went from there. Not liking the feeling of being naked in unknown territory, she decided she could wash her underwear as she washed her body.
Slipping into the water, she was surprised that it wasn't too cold. She sat down in waist high ripples and taking the bar of dark soap she had packed, she pulled over her shirt and scrubbed it against her knees. Next, she added her socks and finished with her pants, laying them back on the bank to dry.
She used the soap all over as she stood and then sat down to rinse and start on her hair. She pushed her soapy hair back and froze. Looking through her bubbles, she found that she had an audience of several naked men and women.
A woman reached out and pulled a finger full of bubbles back and tasted them and spat them out and everyone laughed. Margo held out her bar of soap, and the woman took it and smelled it and smiled.
"Wait." Margo knew they couldn't understand her, so she held up one finger and took back the soap. She dipped it in the water and began rubbing it on the woman’s arm, causing bubbles and clean runnels dripping down the woman's skin.
There were some oohs and then someone else had the soap bar, and it was dipped in the stream and rubbed on someone else with laughter as bubbles floated down on the water.
Margo could now confirm one thing; these people were Caucasian and definitely male and female. Not a complete prude, she was still uncomfortable in what was turning out to be a nude group party. She had on her panties and bra, but they were wet and almost see through.
Someone behind her handed Margo a small branch that had leaves still on it and showed her how to brush it on her skin. She smelled the leaves and got a lemon odor. This must be what they used to get clean. It did leave a pleasant scent to her skin.
As some started leaving the water, she saw the way of drying was just to sit on the bank and talk to your friends. Getting out of this was going to cause a problem with her own modesty, as her clean underwear was in the backpack and she needed to get out of her clean but wet ones.
Deciding to ignore the others, she pulled out her clean, dry clothes and quickly got out of the wet ones to lie on the grass. It didn't take her long to be entirely dressed in her second outfit.
Someone handed her back her soap, and another handed her a branch of the fine leaves. She put both into her backpack and smiled at everyone as she said, "Thank you."
It was at this point that she noticed there was one man who was paying special attention to her. He was dressed with his head uncovered and sitting down on one heel a short way down the bank. His dark eyes were watching her every move.
Smiling at him, she turned and picked up her pack, grabbed her damp items, nodded at everyone else and started back towards the huts. By the time she got back to her assigned hut, pushed off the child who was hanging onto one of her legs, it was suppertime.
She hung her damp items over anything and went out with the girl holding her hand. Evidently, the child was afraid of losing her again. They found seats in the middle of one of the long tables and people began to put big bowls of food onto the table.
People and children were passing bowls back and forth when a man pushed his way between others and sat down opposite Margo. It was the same guy that had been watching her from the stream's bank. The people moved easily, not giving him any argument in order to make a place for him.
Margo decided he carried himself differently and that he must be a special hunter or fighter. Maybe he was a leader in charge of those groups. Right now he seemed to be interested in her and her movements as he sat and accepted a filled plate from a woman at his shoulder.
Not able to speak the language she could only smile, nod, and ignore his speculative stare. She understood she was new and might be from the enemy or maybe they understood about Rahm and was afraid of him.
But if they were worried about her why was everyone letting her walk around their village free without tying her wrists. They left her in the hut with a mother and child; surely they didn't think she was a danger.
Chapter Sixteen
Margo awoke to noise the next morning. It was unusual because this large group of people were amazingly quiet. She got dressed and walked out of the hut to find that people were packing things up and actually destroying the huts.
The poles that held up the huts and overhead covers were being bundled and buried in the ground. The large leaves that made the sides and roof of the huts were being torn into small pieces and scattered around. Some of these were bundled up that looked like they might be taken along on the backs of some of the people.
These people were efficient workers, as the cooked food was disappearing into their stomachs and as she turned in that short of time, her hut was being torn apart. She ran back in to grab her clothes and backpack.
She was surprised to find that the mattresses they had slept on where filled with dried leaves that were being dumped as the cloth was being folded and tucked into flat green bags similar to her pack. No matter where she went, she seemed to be in the way of someone who was working. To make it worse, she couldn't contribute in any manner, as she had no idea what had happened.
Within what she guessed was a little over an hour, people were drifting in different directions. Someone handed her a type of sandwich, and she just stood in the middle of this organized chaos watching groups fade into the forest away from each other.
Trying to decide if she was to follow anyone, having lost sight of the child, she was surprised when the man who had stared at her walked up and bumped her shoulder with the back of his hand.
Standing there with a sandwich in one hand and her loops of the backpack in the other, she took one step back away from him.
"I'm sorry, but I don't know what to do or where to go?"
He totally surprised her by reaching up and softly touching her cheek. Then he stepped back, he waved at her in a manner that indicated she should follow him, and he turned to walk toward a group all dressed in green including having their heads all covered.
As he walked away with her, he began to wrap his own head in the long green scarf until at last, when they had crossed the stream and were deep in the woods, his head was totally covered. Yet when he glanced back at her, she knew him by his dark eyes.
He only checked over his shoulder once to see her among all the others in green that followed him. For Margo, she was amazed. She was in a forest of tall old trees that were a mixture of pines and some with large leaves. She was surrounded by a group of silently moving ninjas, and she had no idea where she was located.
She didn't know of any forest like this in the Americas, even in Canada. This had to be on another continent, so how did she find an ocean and get to civilization?
These people did seem very smart and healthy, but she couldn't speak their language, and she had no idea how far inland she might be at this time. For all she knew, as they silently moved through the tall trees, they could be walking away from any ocean.
This walking was comfortable with her arms through her backpack, and it settled between her shoulders. The people in green moved in and out, some would disappear, and the group would be down to only five or six around her, and then again there would be a larger group back again.
There was a signal, and it was a rest time. Without much conversation, people began to go behind bushes to relieve themselves, so Margo found her own bush and some clean leaves. She hoped the leaves wouldn't cause a rash.
They began to gather and relaxed to share food. She pulled out some more of the cook's dried fruit and shared the pieces. Suddenly, as she sat on the ground picking through her bag, she saw a pair of long legs in front of her. Looking up she met the dark eyes of the guy that seemed to have a special interest in her.
Like everyone else, he had his head wrap pulled down below his chin. He came down on one heel and held out a piece of dried meat to Margo. She hesitated only a moment and took it, but she held out a large piece of dried apple in exchange.
He also hesitated a moment and then took the fruit and chewed on it slowly. Margo became aware that now there was complete silence when there had been quiet talking among the group before. As she looked past him, she saw that all eyes were on the two of them. Suddenly, as everyone realized she was looking, they all turned and seemed to get busy with eating.
The man in front of her rose slowly and walked away. He continued to walk until he disappeared into the forest. Wow, what happened? The thought ran through her head. Margo understood she didn't know the traditions of these people. Maybe exchanging food, one on one was the sign that they were married. It could also be an acceptance to a duel. Hell, for all she knew it meant she was now a nun and couldn't be touched.
She needed to get away from the influence of Rahm and find her way to her home, but this place and these people just didn't seem to be the correct way. Margo was beginning to think she was traveling with the wrong group. Maybe she should have found her little girl and stayed with her mother and that group.
The decision was easy. Margo was going to keep a lot of distance between her and that lead guy. She had already figured out that besides being the leader of this group he was also the hunter or maybe the top warrior.
Most of those who were not carrying supplies wore knives and carried long sticks that they used to push brush away and would swing around now and then. The lead man had two long blades strapped to his back and also carried one of the long sticks. He never swung it, but she had the thought that when he did, the stick would do a lot of damage.
Like those on the sides, he often silently slipped into the forest ahead. She assumed he was scouting the trail to see where they were going and that the way was free of enemies and beasts.
They traveled well into the evening until they came to another stream. They ate cold food again and slept in the sling beds up in the trees. A man helped her get into her sleeping net after someone else had set it up. The problem was that she needed help climbing the tree because it didn't have lower limbs.
The next morning she was awake at dawn. This time she hadn't slept well through the night, birds and animals and the noise from the stream seemed to jerk her up just as she fell asleep. She had another problem. Ever since washing her hair in the fresh air and using their leaves, it was too soft to stay in a tight braid. Tendrils kept coming loose and getting in her face as she moved.
She pulled out her original jacket that was of lightweight, weatherproof material in a dark blue color. She pulled the hood up over her head and yanked on the strings to make it a tight cover letting just her face peek out from the material. She smiled thinking that with a mouth cover she would look like a member of this troupe.
She had her backpack again on her shoulder, wondering if they were going to eat breakfast when she heard the first scream. The screams were not of pain they were high yells. They were into a fight with the darker-dressed warriors like she had seen when she arrived behind Rahm on the side of the one hill.
The people spread out and not being trained like these people all Margo could do was seek the protection of a large tree trunk and duck down.
Pulling her knees up and covering her face for protection, she looked through her fingers at the mayhem going on in between the trees. This was hand-to-hand fighting in a most brutal way. These fighters were not just trying to knock out an opponent they were going for death in any savage way, as they struck each other's bodies.
Echoing throughout the forest, she heard the contact of staffs breaking bones and long knives slicing flesh. She lowered her hands as she watched the horror while people on both sides fell in great pain. If one fell, the fallen was attacked and beaten ruthlessly.
There was beginning to be a change of color on the fighters and the forest, as blood was slung in all directions. It seemed that her group in green were winning, as they outnumbered the attackers and were taking down one after another.
Suddenly, two of the dark covered figures were coming for her; hell bent on death in their swinging motions. Margo rolled over and tried to scramble away on her hands and knees. She was kicked onto her side and thinking it was another enemy; she curled up as someone straddled her with long legs.
With a swipe of a blade, blood was spattered all over her and the person above her. She had very little view of the battle and didn't really want to see the human destruction.
Just as fast as it had started, it was over. The only sounds she could hear were some heavy breathing. Slowly, the person above her stepped aside and reached down to pull her to her feet. Standing, she was looking into the dark eyes of the leader. He had protected her and left them both covered in blood from the two bodies lying on the red-colored grass.
Looking at her he mumbled some words to his people and got a single word back. Margo assumed it meant yes as everyone was picking up weapons, cleaning themselves with some grass off to the side, and moving away.
He said something to her, stooped over and put one finger into blood on a person who lay dead at her feet. He stood again and held her shoulder he drew a line of blood down her forehead to the tip of her nose. Margo just waited in a frozen position, not sure what this symbolized. Perhaps it meant she had survived her first battle. There was the sound of an intake of breath from a couple of people behind them. He nodded and turned to become the leader and began to move into the forest.
The blood pulling and drying on her nose demanded her attention. She wanted to clean it off but didn't want to insult their traditions, so she decided to wait until they were away from this gruesome small war scene.
Slowly, others walked around her with their new weapons and ignoring their own losses. Their own green-dressed dead lay among the darkly dressed warriors, all the dead to be left to nature. The forgotten dead failed in a duel.
Chapter Seventeen
They traveled for the rest of the day, eating as they walked. Someone tapped her and spoke in a female's voice and indicated that she should follow. It was just a simple trip to the side to relieve their bodies; then it was back with the wandering troupe to walk on through most of the night.
They came to wider water that was like a small river with sandy edges, and it was time to get clean. Everyone waded across letting the water help get rid of the stains of the battle.
Margo was walking in a daze, not aware except for putting one foot in front of another and moving with a couple of green speckled tight fitting outfits. They must have understood her condition as someone stayed close to her all the time, especially when they stopped to clean up at the river. One person held her backpack high as they crossed the waist-high water.
It was the first time since she joined them that her backpack had been away from her and she didn't even think about it. Her mind was still on the bodies in both green and dark wrappings lying on the forest floor behind them. There were no prayers, no goodbyes, no tears, and no burials. These people were hard warriors with not a lot of deep feelings.
Margo wondered if Rahm Maaker came from the same indifferent stock. What had taken the place of human feelings and empathy? Was the only away to survive was to cut off contact and remembrance of those who died in fighting the enemy?
They walked on through the next day, and Margo did what someone indi
cated, eating dried meat and going behind a bush with a woman. She drank water from small thin bags and that night she let them put her in a sling in a tree. She didn't sleep.
The next morning he came to her and pulled her hood off her head. He ran his hand through her long brown hair. She looked up at his coarse black locks. She didn't move, just stood and looked into his dark eyes and he looked into her hazel green ones. He said something to her in his language and walked away.
Margo was lost in a world she didn't understand. Was this worse than Rahm's dark house? Which one would get her back to Florida and her poor little dog locked in a bathroom?
She was knocked out of her daze when there was a bunch of people coming out of the forest ahead of them. At first, she was afraid it might be another battle, but all of these people were dressed in the tightly wrapped green, so they must be friends. There were gentle, quiet greetings and help with the items they were carrying.
Someone offered to carry Margo's backpack, but she said "Yo" each time and grabbed onto the straps. Within a short time, they were in another gathering place with the huts and open covers. This place was larger with a lot more children, and finally, she saw some older people working around tables.
She believed they must be at a larger settlement. Maybe this might even be a permanent site. Just like before a young girl came forward and grabbed her hand to lead her through the crowd and brought her to a hut. Oh, home again.
She had a room to herself separated with large leaves hanging down from the ceiling. There was a mattress filled with sweet smelling leaves and a tray on the floor with tubers and what might be hot tea. There was something that looked like flatbread that might have been baked on hot stones, and Margo collapsed down on the bed. At last, she slept.
Rolling over she woke up to stare at a very old woman who was sitting cross-legged on the floor next to her flat bed.
