Twenty-Four

Carefully, slowly, trying not to draw attention to myself, I arranged the blankets into a sleeping form. We were stopped for one of the few breaks the soldiers were allowed to take, collectively. Whoever was in charge of this brigade drove them hard, but now and then, the whole caravan stopped for a few hours of rest. The soldiers near me, the ones responsible for keeping watch, were beginning to trust that I wasn’t stupid enough to attempt an escape, and that’s where they mistook me.

I waited until the soldier in charge of staying awake for the first shift, watching me, was obviously too tired to continue. When he made a move to wake his friend, I jumped quickly from the wagon. “I’m going to relieve myself,” I said, walking away from him as if it were no big deal. He watched me for a moment, shrugging.

I went into the woods, aware that he was still watching, and I squatted. I made a face and held my position, rubbing my stomach as if I were in pain, and the man finally turned away. I watched. For my escape to work, this next part had to go exactly as I hoped, and a longer shot had never existed.

The first man woke his friend. They exchanged words, and the second soldier woke up, glanced sleepily in my direction, and then turned to relieve himself. He hadn’t glanced at the wagon.

As soon as neither man was looking at me, I dropped my skirt and darted into the woods as quietly as possible. Maia slept peacefully on my chest, and I silently thanked God that she stayed that way, despite my awkward movements.

Ten feet from the camp. Twenty. Twenty-five, and I stepped on a stick. It broke under my foot, and I slapped my hand over my mouth to keep from crying out in my dismay. I stood completely still, listening, waiting for them to come after me, but all I could hear was the blood rushing through my veins, so loud in my ears that I wasn’t sure I’d be able to hear them even if they were coming, stomping through the trees with their heavy, careless, sure soldier’s steps.

I had nothing to lose. I kept going.

The further away I got, the more my body shook with fear. Maia awoke and burrowed her head into my chest, looking for milk. I shushed her, patting her absent-mindedly as I hurried on, grabbing onto trees as I went to steady my balance. The trees were denser here, and the moonlight barely lit my path, despite the fact that none of the trees held leaves. My thin slippers provided little cushion, but I ignored the jabs and pokes that assaulted me with every step. I ignored the sharp cold that made my fingers numb and my whole body shake. I ignored everything except for the path ahead of me.

I kept going all night. I heard no commotion behind me, so I assumed my ruse had worked, at least for a little while. The soldier must’ve seen the bundled blankets in the wagon and assumed I’d made my way back to camp while he’d been occupied. I couldn’t believe it worked.

Finally, as dawn approached, I came across an abandoned town. Perhaps town is too big of a word for it. This was a small grouping of one-room shacks that were placed strategically around a small, two room, two story building that seemed to have served as a store, church, and town hall. The tiny shacks were empty, or at least they appeared to be. I went immediately into the two story abode, hoping that the upper floor would give me some sort of visual advantage, but there was only one window there and it faced the wrong direction. If the soldiers were going to come for me, they would do so from behind this structure.

The structure was weak, made of rotting wood, constructed by people who were guessing at the craft. The little community here had obviously disappeared more than a few decades ago, probably during some property war or other. I knew such things happened- my current troubles, in fact, were probably the result of a war that the Roy family had lost. Hadn’t Mayla said something about money and boarders? But I was thankful that this place existed, despite the fact that it was overrun with dead weeds, surrounded by trees. It had no discernable path in or out of the community, and for that, I was thankful.

Perhaps Maia and I could exist here for a few weeks, until I was fully healed and restored from child birth, until I had a plan. For now, this was a haven and, compared to the wagon I’d been calling home, it was incredible.

I pulled the two spare blankets I’d nabbed out from under my gown and spread them on the floor along with my other supplies. I had a couple of days’ worth of food strapped in with Maia but laid out on the floor in front of me. It looked pitiful indeed. This is where my resources ended. I would need to secure more food and better sources of warmth for us. And as Maia shivered against my chest, this became my biggest concern. I walked back down the creaky staircase, thankful for the bright light of the deceitfully sunny day. I wished that the day was half as warm as it appeared to be.

Dry sticks weren’t easily found, but once I’d gathered a small pile, placed hopefully in the old fireplace on the back wall of the lower level room, I realized I had no discernable way to light the fire. Dismayed, I sank to the floor beside the useless fireplace. I was exhausted, hungry, and sad. Maia latched onto my breast, suckling greedily, and I petted her head, worried that without proper nutrient, I wouldn’t be able to provide for her much longer. And if I didn’t warm myself somehow, the cold that permeated every cell of my being would eventually leach into her little body, surely killing her. I leaned up against the wall, my weariness finally overtaking me, and I fell asleep.

When I awoke, I was blissfully warm. In a daze of comfort, I kept my eyes closed, fighting the reality that was trying to push through into my consciousness. I clung greedily to ignorance, enjoying the warmth that radiated from a source to my right.

The fireplace was to my right.

The fireplace in the abandoned shack in the middle of the woods I’d escaped into when I was running from the enemy soldiers who’d stolen my baby.

My baby.

Instinctively, I opened my eyes and clutched my arms tightly around Maia. She whimpered once in protest, then fell back asleep, one little arm dangling out of her blanket. I tucked it back in and then surveyed my surroundings.

The sun was setting. It would be dark soon. Daylight lasted for such a short time in the winter, and the winter months lasted for so long now. Eight months out of the year, it was devastatingly cold outside. Even in the four months of sunshine, temperatures dipped so low at night that one could always count on seeing a cloud of air in the sky when breathing. Mayla used to say that this was evidence that everything humans do leaves a trace, even breathing.

Looking down at her namesake. My heart longed for her, and I sighed. If she were here, she’d know what to do.

Instead, I had to rely on my own mind, and my mind was telling me not to trust in the luck of ghosts. Someone had lit that fire, and I needed to find out whom.

Standing, I stretched, trying to ignore the ache that seemed to course through my entire body. I listened, trying to hear the creaks of someone walking around upstairs, but I heard nothing. When I walked up to check it out, there was no one there. The room was darker, the window facing the wrong way for sunlight. I decided that I’d ignore the upper level altogether.

I walked out into the fading daylight and surveyed the area. It still seemed abandoned, but I now knew better.

“Hello?” I called, waiting. No one answered. “Thank you, f-for the fire,” I stuttered, unsure. “My baby and I appreciate it very much.” I waited, listening, and finally, I heard a small creak to my left. I spun, but I saw no one. The shack there seemed just as empty as the others.

“Hello?” I tried again. “Please, come out and show yourself.” When the door to the little abode didn’t open, I tried a different approach. “I’m just as afraid of you as you are of me,” I called. “You’ve already seen me. It’s unfair that I haven’t seen you. I won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight if you don’t show yourself.”

The little town seemed unusually quiet for a moment, and I thought myself crazy. Was anyone there? Maybe they’d come, lit my fire, and then left, and I was truly just talking to myself. At that point, I was so exhausted, both physically and emotionally, that I was beginning to believe that I’d somehow lit the fire myself while I slept.

But then the door opened, and a little old woman came out of the house. She stopped and stared at me for a moment, neither of us moving.

“I’m Britleigh,” she said, her voice somehow quiet and clear at the same time. “We welcome you to our home.”

“I- Thank you,” I said, shocked to see her. “I’m sorry, we? Aren’t you the only one here?” I motioned to the abandoned town. “It’s empty,” I said.

“No,” she said. “The others are inside. When they’re quite sure that you’re safe, they’ll join me in welcoming you.”

“I’m… I’m most definitely safe,” I said. “If you’ll excuse my frankness, I’m no more of a threat to you than my child is. We’ve been through quite a journey and I’d be more than happy to see some friendly faces.”

The door behind the woman opened once more, and a shy, pretty little face peeked out at me. She couldn’t be more than eight.

“It’s alright,” I said, waving to her. “I’m Piya.” I bent so that she could see Maia’s sleeping face. “And this is Maia.” The girl’s face lit up, and she ran to Britleigh’s side and half hid behind her hip. The door swung the rest of the way open, and to my surprise, several more people emerged, mostly children.

“This is Alabs,” Britleigh said, pointing to first one child and then another. “Zeek. Cray. Genesh.” She went down the line, introducing all of them. She told me the names of the few adults, and I noticed that none among us were men.

“So is this an Amazonian tribe, then?” I asked, smiling, but none of them seemed to have a sense of humor.

“We belong to no tribe,” Britleigh said, her face a stone. “We have escaped from the sex trade that wound through the town over that way, and we have no intention of going back.”

The smile fell from my face. “Of course not,” I said, looking at the young- so young!- children in front of me. I prayed that they’d escaped the awful trade before any of them had had the chance to become a part of it. Places like the tent city I’d encountered in my travels were all too common, especially in a world where women were so devalued as to often have no worth at all except for what they could offer between their legs.

“And you?” Britleigh asked. They all stood quietly, watching me.

“I’m from the Roy household in the West,” I said. “I believe they lost a property dispute, and I was taken as a hostage. My home was destroyed. They took my son. I have been traveling with them in a wagon for weeks. I don’t know for sure how long. Months, maybe. I had my daughter in that wagon. I ran away in the night.” The women looked at each other, scared. “They didn’t pursue me,” I said. “I’m not worth that much to them, I guess. I made it so that they didn’t even know I’d left right away, and by the time they found out, they wouldn’t have any idea which direction I’d gone. You’re safe here.”

Britleigh nodded. “Then so are you,” she said. “I’m sorry for your troubles. We are all survivors here, and we welcome you among our ranks as such. There’s a strength to be found in overcoming such horrific circumstances. Unfortunately, your story is a common one among women. I’m not sure you realize just how common, seeing as how you’re a noblewoman and your feet have been kept above filth for most of your life. That doesn’t make what you’ve been through easy or something to be belittled. You need care, and you’ll find it here.” She paused. “But I’ve heard about that dispute, as you call it. It’s much more than that. It’s more like a war, and your family did, indeed, lose.”

I gaped at her. How did she know these things, tucked away here in the woods as she was, away from society and far, far away from my home?

“Tell me what you know,” I said, thinking of my only friend’s lifeless body on the cold kitchen floor, of the screams of innocent servants, of the horrific turns my life had taken in the last year.

She shook her head. “So demanding!” she said, laughing, and her whole face lit up with the effort. The sound she made was like bells tinkling in the wind, and I warmed to her instantly.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I don’t mean to be. I’ve been away from polite society for so long that I-”

“Oh, we are hardly polite society,” a younger woman said, chuckling, patting my shoulder companionably. “We don’t know the details of the civilized people’s war, and we don’t want to know. Come, let’s get you cleaned up. You look awful.”

“She smells awful,” one child said, making a face. I was embarrassed, remembering suddenly that I hadn’t bathed in ages, that my gown had blood and afterbirth and urine and God only knew what else crusted onto it, but this didn’t seem to truly bother anyone else. They laughed, and the little community broke away into smaller groups of comfort and easy banter. They were home here; this was their family. They were safe from prying eyes and from the foolish world of men.

I’d wandered into heaven.