Ember of a New World

by Watson, Tom

  But wait! she thought, the men would still come this way even if they had given up any pursuit. Ember briefly considered swimming to the far side of the river before throwing away that fantasy. The river was deceptively calm. The waters were slow moving, but their force was huge and unyielding. The shallows by the banks were safe enough, but the center water would swallow her alive if she braved it.

  Perhaps hiding in the shallow parts of the water would be a smart idea. She simply made too many tracks everywhere she ran on the land. She knew the men were probably not so far away, but she had not seen or heard from them for a short while now. If she slipped into the water quickly, the men might simply pass her by. If the men did follow her to the river bank, she could simply swim away or hide low in the water until they passed. Who would think to look for a small head bobbing in the water? Ember smiled at her cunning. She would be both cool and more able to flee should she need to. The back of her mind told her this was a bad idea, but she was tired and extremely sweaty. Ember would first stuff her shirt someplace, perhaps behind a rock, where the men wouldn't find it if they walked by. A bulky leather shirt would present a problem in the water, where her reed skirt would not.

  As she walked away from the high bank and approached the water, she heard a noise not three lengths of a man behind her and above. She paused and closed her eyes with regret. How could she have been so stupid as to forget her own species tendency for hunting from above? Just as deer and rabbits never seemed to look up, Ember had fallen to the same simple device.

  They must have run too..., she thought as she began to turn and look up, towards the men she knew were standing behind her on the high bank. All was stopped as blackness fell over her eyes like night and millions of stars exploded in her head. Ember tried to speak and slowly stepped forwards, but she couldn't hear her own words. She was vaguely aware of an arrow lying beside her. In her daze, she thought the arrow head looked oddly shaped, being simple thin leather, the type used for soft breechcloths, and filled with tiny pebbles, wrapped and tied with a leather thong. Ember had seen men use these to hunt rabbits, shooting them in the head and stunning them. Perhaps it had worked by hitting her temple, or perhaps she had become a rabbit... her thoughts were becoming a blur. Ember didn't notice that she let her shirt fall to the ground as she felt her body falling into the darkness. Ember sank to her knees and then to the ground.

  Ember became aware again. Her head hurt and her left temple stung. She couldn't manage to open her eyes, so she tried to rub them. Her arms failed to respond; no wait, they were trying but they were unable. Instantly she became aware that she was bound from behind! Panic filled her veins as she realized her predicament; Ember was sitting on the ground, hands and arms pulled behind her and wrapped around a small tree, bound at the wrist! She opened her eyes slowly and was greeted by a burst of light from the bright sun. She was sitting on her butt leaning against a tree in an awkward position indeed. Her butt had fallen asleep and her legs hurt with a tingly numbness.

  When Ember examined her surroundings, she noticed that her obsidian dagger and doe skin shirt were nowhere to be seen. Could the men have merely left them where she had fallen? Ember hoped not. Turning her head to the right Ember saw the three men. It was evening and they were preparing a camp.

  It has been all day!? she thought in panic. Ember's stomach was sore and the ribs on her right side hurt. This told her that she had probably been slung over one of their shoulders and carried. Fear and panic took hold of Ember and she started to pull at the ropes. What would the men do with her, she wondered? The blonde haired man turned and took note of her consciousness. He spoke to the other men and each turned to regard the now awake woman.

  It wasn't until she saw them staring at her that she begun to notice how naked she felt with no shirt. Ember, though a woman now, was young and particularly beautiful by the standards of her tribe. Did these men seek her for themselves or would they take her as a prize to trade at another village? Such acts were not uncommon and Ember had heard the stories of entire trade groups being massacred for their loot, animals, and woman. She had even come across such a looted village! The images of the bodies were still too fresh in her mind. Suddenly Ember wished she had her shirt to cover her upper body or she had at least been covered in a little more paint. Their eyes were boring holes in her mind that she couldn't stand. She looked away from the men and started tugging more and more frantically at her bonds. Her hands hurt and she began to panic! She pulled furiously as tears started to roll down her face. After a short time, Ember relaxed and slumped limply against the tree and her bindings. She drifted into another short sleep. Her body was still exhausted from running and her new and aggravated injuries.

  After a while, one of the men walked over and squatted in front of Ember. He poked her in the stomach twice waking her from a dreamless sleep. She looked up at him with a mixture of fear and hate. He wore a soft leather shirt belted as a tunic with the bottom of a leather breechcloth barely peeking from the bottom of the tunic. He also wore a large flint knife from his belt, leather-wrap boots, and leather leggings. The man was a few harvests older than Ember but obviously the youngest in the party. He leveled his soft gaze into Ember's eyes and she was taken aback by his bright blue stare. He didn't look evil or wicked in any way, but there he stood as she remained bound. Ember was embarrassed at her captivity and the presence of the young hunter made this worse. Ember found herself looking down to avoid his eyes. Suddenly, fear and hate filled her again. How could he just watch her? Why didn't he try and help her?

  He stared at Ember for a long moment before he began speaking. The words which came out sounded strange to Ember but she understood a few of the words as being in common with her own language. Ember picked the words for “food” and “do” from what he said. The man gestured to a freshly killed rabbit tied to a pole in the ground and some tools.

  How ironic, she thought mirthlessly, two “rabbits” caught in the same day... Suddenly, he produced her doe skin shirt. She had dropped it by the bank when she had decided to hide in the water. A really foolish move for which Ember scolded herself.

  Apparently the men had found the shirt and kept it, or at least this one had. Maybe they had kept the dagger too. The man, nearly a boy still, tossed the shirt across Ember's bare upper body affording her a little cover. He then produced a small flint knife and showed it to, Ember handle first, giving her a nod. Ember understood clearly what she would be doing now; domestic work, for these lazy men. Well, at least their current ambitions were founded in their stomachs and nowhere else. She hoped that they would fall asleep after they ate, as many men did, and stop staring at her. She swallowed and looked the hunter in the face as she gave him a curt nod of understanding. His weak smile in return made her feel disgusted.

  The young hunter walked behind her to untie the thong which held her hands bound. Ember slowly moved her hurt arms forward to a normal angle and held her wrists for a few moments, rubbing them to ease the pain of having been bound. The hunter had unbound her completely and now stood over her waiting for Ember to finish rubbing her sore wrists. He looked at her for a moment and indicated the large dagger on his waist and the bow across his back. Ember nodded once more showing that she understood the consequences of running. The man looked slightly uncomfortable as he handed Ember the small knife, and did so blade first, so she could not immediately run him through, she guessed.

  The man indicated the rabbit again, and Ember slowly rolled over and started to work her way up to a standing position using the little tree she had been bound to as a crutch. Her legs hurt, throbbing furiously, and her butt tingled from sitting on hard ground for so long. After a moment, she found that she could again stand, and she walked slowly past him, very much aware that his eyes followed her as she went. Ember quickly pulled her shirt over her head and checked to make sure her breechcloth and skirt were secure. She might have to work for these men, but she wouldn't give them a show.

  For the remainde
r of the first day, Ember was made to cook rabbit and porridge for the men as they joked and talked. She went about her tasks with her head down and her heart filled with fear and dread. When the night came, Ember was again bound to the tree, a bit more loosely than before, by the same younger man. She would not look him in the face, ignoring his attempt to hand her some food. Ember quietly cried herself to sleep. Perhaps tomorrow her head would stop hurting.

  The next day, Ember was awakened shortly after dawn and bid to cook some fish for breakfast. Fish were most active in the early morning and the late evening, the best times to catch them. The blonde haired man had caught the fish just before Ember had awaked and now he sat there with the older man laughing and eating. The two made light of Ember several times. Their gestures and comments, she knew, were directed at her though she knew not what they said. After breakfast, the blonde haired man came to Ember and grabbed her arms. She gave a token resistance, but she couldn't help but be bound again. The man moved through the motions mechanically without much indication of his disposition. Her hands were tied with a thick leather thong behind her back. Ember wondered if he had a mate. If so, what would she think of this being done to Ember? What might she think of what he was doing?

  The Blonde man removed his large leather satchel and placed the strap over her shoulder. So she would be a beast of burden? Perhaps they would simply work her to death. She had still not eaten.

  The youngest man had tried to feed you; the voice in her head reminded her. It had been nearly two days since last she ate, and she was growing weak. She would either need to eat soon or let her body fail. Allowing herself to pass away went against every fiber of her being, but she felt that she could accept it, should all hope run out. She had to be strong until she had no other options.

  Ember had always been a resilient girl. The fall of her father Winterborn had taught her to be strong in the face of adversity, but this was a more frightening experience. In her village, she had her family and friends, but here she was at the mercy of three cunning, resourceful, and physically strong men, each trained to track and kill animals about Ember's size. Slowly, hate began to fill the place in her heart where fear had been so strong. It occurred to Ember that her realization and acceptance of her fate and possible death had opened a path in her mind she had never before explored. Acceptance began to remove the fear which had initially bound her. Slowly, the rabbit would become a fox. The tiny fire of innovation and determination lit in her as she started considering how she might escape. She would wait, patiently, and use cunning to escape. So far, this was her main thought.

  Ember pondered many things while she walked along behind the three men as they made their way north west. Onward the quartet walked, over open fields, beside a large forest, and always following the Great River. The walking was tiring, and Ember was very hungry. She tripped a few times but never fell, which was probably best as she couldn't have stopped herself if she had fallen. The men were only occasionally keeping an eye on her, so if she had fallen, it would have been a short time before they noticed. The thought of falling and hiding had occurred to Ember, but she was not convinced this would work, and if it failed she would give her motives away. Though the pace was hard, the men took breaks every now and then allowing her to rest. The walking gave Ember time to plot. For now, she continued to appear as frightened as possible.

  The second day of walking had caused Ember's feet to blister and swell with hurts. Seeing Ember limp, the younger man called for a break, or so it had seemed to Ember. The group stopped by the river's edge. The men let her cool her feet in the river while they situated themselves and constructed a new camp for that evening. The younger man was by far the most compassionate of the three. Ember had taken note of each man's behavior and attitude. The key to escape might be in manipulating each of the men. Ember's confidence in her ability to find a way out of this mess had started to rise, but also a growing fear. The older man had now twice given Ember a hungry glance, the kind men made when they gazed upon something they wanted. She would have to do something about this before the older man, or the blonde haired man for that matter, decided to take out the frustrations of a long journey on Ember.

  The blonde haired man seemed to be collected and calculating, very difficult to read. He was the unknown element to Ember. She knew the old man would react negatively to her, but if she could figure out the blonde haired man, she would feel much more secure. Somehow Ember didn't fear the youngest man. He had been the only one of the group to offer her food, which she had started eating out of need. He had also given her back her shirt, and with it a degree of her self-respect and dignity.

  The quartet had made quite a good trek so far, traveling beyond the high cliffs and into a flatter part of the land where the river was nearly the same height as the land, though still lower. The thick forests had given way to thinner pine trees and small hills, and Ember could see large forests in every direction. The world just seemed to continue on the same way, in every direction!

  The night of her fourth full day in captivity Ember was left tied, but allowed to lie on the ground. Her hands were bound behind her and then to a small tree, but she could lie on her side and not against the tree if she wanted. It was a small concession on the part of the younger man, which earned him a few dirty looks from the other two. That night, Ember sat waiting for the men to fall asleep. The oldest man kept his eyes on her, thoroughly annoying Ember.

  I would pluck them from your face if I could, she thought. Ember wasn't pleased with herself for such dark thoughts, but the anger helped her keep going. She knew that the grim thoughts she was having were wrong, but Ember wondered how people knew such things were wrong. The creation stories didn't mention any reason why some actions or thoughts were wrong and Ember didn't remember her mother saying anything which might indicate why such thoughts were bad, and yet Ember knew they were wrong. Ember supposed that people just knew it was wrong to hurt each other because it was the only sane way people could live together. A tribe of evil people wouldn't last very long. Ember carried on with her introspective thoughts as she waited for the men to sleep.

  As the night grew darker, the men situated themselves for sleep. The older man suddenly stood and walked over to Ember. She sat upright with worry in her eyes and a quickening pulse. The man smiled at her in mock friendliness. He knelt beside her and slowly looked her up and down. He was a slightly aging but still a formidable hunter by all appearances. He had long shoulder length ragged hair, slightly balding in the front. His face was wrinkled with small scars and a scruffy unkempt look. Several deep scars on his hands told the story of a man who had been in the wilds for longer than most. Perhaps he was a senior hunter where he came from. Often, a senior hunter would lead long distance journeys.

  All of this time out in the wilds and you have forgotten what is right and wrong, she thought.

  As the older man sized her up, Ember thought of her home and her warm bed. She was in that bed sleeping, right now, about a ten-day ago... Yet again the absurdity of Ember's “task” came to her.

  Well Gods, thanks for watching out for me, she thought glumly. She snapped out of her thinking as the man reached out and placed his hand on her hip! Ember's face froze in horror as he said something with mock thoughtfulness.

  So, now he is ready for me, she thought. Well, I am not quite ready for him just yet. She lifted her foot and kicked the man square in the chest. He choked up spittle and fell backward onto his butt with a loud thud. The blonde haired man blew the water he was drinking out of his mouth, nearly choking. He stood and laughed as hard as Ember had ever seen a man laugh.

  The stunned expression on the older man's face quickly turned to rage. He stood ready to come at Ember with all of his strength and she knew, bound as she was, she wouldn't be able to stop him. Her saving grace came from the blonde haired man. He said something to the older man in a playful voice with a rueful smile. The older man turned on him in an instant and came at him fast! The blonde hair
ed man backed away, quickly, and held his hands in front of himself. He had obviously crossed some line with his joking and the old man was now too enraged to consider Ember. He yelled at both of the other two men for a while and then walked away from the camp. The blonde haired man walked a few paces towards Ember giving her a wicked grin. He said something underhanded and then gave her a wink before returning to the fire and bedding down for sleep. The older man returned after a while without a word and went quickly to sleep.

  Ember's people were known for singing and dancing, but this dance was more delicate and dangerous than she had ever performed. Ember was not completely sure of what had happened, other than how close she had just come to knowing this man, this brute. She would have to act fast, or she might not resist him again. Originally, she had hoped either to make an escape or to pit the men against each other, somehow. In an odd sort of way, it seemed like this was happening all by itself, but Ember would have to do more, and fast! For now, she sat back and slowly drifted off to sleep.

  On the fifth day the group was less talkative than the previous four. The older man walked behind Ember much of the way, watching her she suspected. Ember could feel his eyes boring holes into her back as she walked. This sort of marching was quite unpleasant. She became more convinced by the moment that she would need to do something soon, perhaps tonight. Ember became more afraid as she walked when she considered the likely events to come. She would either escape or be taken. Ember decided that if she failed, she would cause as much injury to the older man as she could, even if she had to play along to get him to let his guard down. Ember hoped it would not come to that.

  The day was long and hot, and Ember's poor ragged body was not used to this sort of punishment. She longed for a cold dip in the river and a midday nap.

  Why must they always push ahead at full speed? Why can't they just stop for a while? Perhaps it's because none of these men like each other? she wondered. The biggest question Ember had was what these men were doing in the first place? They didn't seem like traders, and Ember had not seen any furs or wares about them. What could their motivation be?