Ember of a New World

by Watson, Tom

  With Calpano out of commission, the young man was her last target before running. Ember waited for a short moment, her chest heaving in fear. Slowly, she approached the sleeping man, a boy actually, apparently named Pak.

  What sort of a name is Pak or Calpano for that matter? She thought. He lay on a sleeping mat with a serene look on his face. Ember placed the blade against his neck and made ready to cut. She had opened the flesh of so many animals, dead animals. This was not a dead animal. She could feel his pulse against the dagger. Ember realized that she could not kill him as he lay defenseless. She rolled her eyes and moved to his bare feet. She placed the blade against his right foot and prepared to cut. She would cut him open so that he would not be able to follow, but would probably not die.

  Ember placed the edge of the razor sharp obsidian dagger against the bare foot. Each time she tried to cut his foot she found it hard to pull the dagger. She couldn't quite force herself to wound this man, the only one who had helped her. As she sat there mulling over her convictions, Ember heard a noise behind her. With a jerk, she turned and saw the old man returning early and with a dangerous fury on his face. Ember's blood ran cold as she understood that she had waited too long.

  * * *

  He had held back so far, but he was not about to let this girl threaten his men, pitiful as they may be to have been taken by surprise by a young woman, he thought. He would teach her who is in-charge using his raw strength to show her his will and her place.

  * * *

  Ember saw the look in his eyes and realized what had changed. She fell backwards into a crouch, fear filling her. Ember began to panic at what she had done. Seeing her fear, he began to walk towards her slowly, menacingly, and with that deadly look of raw anger in his eyes. Her veins filled with pure primal fear and she felt that she might start to cry. She fought to gasp air and hold her nerve, knowing full well that if she broke now, in the face of this man, she would never escape! Ember thought of the injustice of this moment, concentrated on the anger and pain, forcing herself to be filled with rage. What had she really done to deserve what had befallen her? Was being a woman truly akin to being property? She was sure he would kill her if she didn't fight him and win, but she was afraid... afraid to die.

  And then it clicked... As suddenly as she had become frightened, a new emotion filled her, anger! How come she was made to fear this man? Had she not braved the river by herself, fought off wolves? Ember sobered as she realized that she was his prey only because she let him control her. The fear in her body started to convert into rage. Ember would not let him dictate the rules of the engagement anymore. Summoning all of the anger and courage she had left, Ember suddenly smiled at the man with a wide toothy grin born of manic desperation, and sprang to her feet and began her desperate attack against a man twice her size. Screaming loudly, she dashed at the man. Ember prepared to leap high in the air before stabbing at him, her moves wild and easy to see. She hoped they would be.

  * * *

  In all of his life, the old man, Rosif, had fought many men and even seen a few women angrily hit their men, yet he had never seen a woman come with such a brazen and ill-conceived attack! She would try and bring the knife down from high, and he would simply knock these ideas from her in one move. He slid his right leg forward ready to kick out and knock the silly girl to the ground. The kick to her stomach could actually kill her as she came in a blinding rush, but if she didn’t die she would permanently know her place, Rosif suspected. Three strides brought the woman to the man. As her right leg landed in the last stride, exactly where Rosif expected her to start her leap, she instead fell forward, tumbling low and raising the knife as she tucked and rolled.

  * * *

  Ember barely thought as she fell forward and held the knife up in the air. This was how she used to avoid the older boys when she played tag as a child. A larger person with a wide stance made an easy target to avoid. The large man kicked out catching nothing but air as the younger more agile Ember rolled between his now wide open legs and out behind him. She held the knife out above her head as she rolled under him, and felt it catch something and bite deeply.

  The man grabbed at his loins and fell to the ground with a shrieking wail louder than a woman giving birth! Ember turned around wide-eyed and flicked the blood off of her blade. Rosif looked down between his legs at his ruined crotch! Calpano, semi-conscious, and the suddenly awake Pak looked at Ember and Rosif in turn. Ember, without any real skills with a knife, had merely held it straight up when she rolled under Rosif. Rosif had not worn his breechcloth under his hide wrap, which might have saved him. Perhaps he had thought it unnecessary given what he had intended to do next.

  Bad move old man, she thought. The obsidian blade, volcanic glass actually, was as sharp as anything known, and the blade had bit deeply into Rosif's groin! The razor sharp edge rendered flesh and let spill his masculinity, and a lot of blood.

  The other two men gawked at the sight which befell them: their leader lay on the ground holding himself in an undignified position, tears welling in his eyes and high pitched whimpers trailing from his mouth, while not far away the young women they had enslaved slowly stood with a blood covered obsidian dagger in her hands and a vengeful look in her eyes. Ember's bright green eyes were like a fox, and she truly unnerved both men.

  * * *

  Calpano laid back down without the ability to do anything about the situation, but he held his flint knife in hand. If the woman came for him, he would be ready. Pak quickly lifted his bow and nocked an arrow ready to shoot. The woman, a girl really, reached down and picked up her sack which had fallen off during the fight. She had left the bow too far from where she now stood to retrieve it. Pak stared at her in disbelief as she slowly held the dagger pointed at him with blood dripping from her hands. For a moment, they both stared with a mutual respect, if nothing more.

  Pak was unsure of what to do next. His loyalty was to his group and he supposed that meant that he should capture or kill this woman. On the other hand, he really disliked that same group and felt guilty for what had happened to this woman. He found himself unable to fire his bow at her. He simply stood with his bow ready to fire, should she attack him. He knew she would now run but he was unable to stop her as he merely stared.

  * * *

  Ember slowly walked away from the camp with her face locked on Pak. She hoped he would not loose his arrow and kill her. As soon as she had left the fire light, Ember started running as fast as she could along the river bank. As she ran, she cried tears of joy and fear. She would be free this sixth night.

  * * *

  Pak stood where he was, his bow pointing down. He had just awoken to find his leader semi-emasculated by a young woman, a woman whom they had tied to a tree not long before. Pak looked at the sick Calpano, both exchanging glances. Neither man seemed upset over the larger man; he had always been such a bully. The men stared for a moment and then turned to their fallen leader. With great effort Calpano lifted himself to a sitting position.

  “We will... need to stay here for a while and recover. You are in charge while we heal... His wound will need to be burned. I'll leave that to you,” Calpano said with a weak smile. Pak looked at the pained leader and knew what must be done. A short while later, Rosif was bound to the same tree Ember had been strapped to. His hands were bound, and a stick was placed in his mouth for him to bite on. His legs were spread wide and lashed to two large pieces of wood, which were hammered into the dirt with a large rock. Calpano could be heard by the fire softly chuckling while Pak removed a rock from the fire, which had been made incredibly hot. Pak used two large sticks to carry the rock, awkwardly.

  The Obsidian Dagger had cut Rosif so badly that part of him had to be removed, a process which incited massive screaming and jerking from Rosif. Performing the act nearly made Pak wretch. Rosif had actually blacked out for a few moments when it happened. Pak was sure the next part would kill him. He would personally choose death before this. Rosif stared a
t the coming rock with wide eyes and tears in his eyes. A large stick had been hammered into the ground just between Rosif's legs. His shirt had been placed around the area to ensure the rock didn't leave that spot for a time and that only the cut parts were seared.

  I guess you should have listened to me and treated her better, huh? Pak thought.

  “I'm sorry, but the bleeding won't stop without this,” Pak said. Calpano used his weak arms to lift his head enough to watch what followed. After the pains Rosif had put him through over the seasons, this was something he simply wouldn't miss.

  “The pain will subside in a few days,” Pak said as he slowly placed the stone between Rosif's legs.

  Chapter 7: Freedom

  Freedom is often underappreciated until you lose it. As Ember ran from her captors, she experienced a terror little known in the modern and developed world. In the modern world, a person can run until they find more people, some sort of civilization, or a person of law enforcement, perhaps. In Ember's world, there was no one. She was a lone woman surrounded by millions of square miles of mostly empty lands with only a few tribes of people, here and there. The population of the world of Ember's time was likely a few million people, perhaps one thousand times smaller than today. Worse yet, the population were mostly gathered near the equator and in small dense tribal groups.

  If Ember even found another tribe or group of people, she could not ensure that they would protect her. Freedom, basic human rights, and equality, are modern achievements. Having grown up in a world with these precious gifts, the true enormity of Ember's escape cannot be readily appreciated by many of today's people. This is a testament to the society which humans have forged from a hostile world.

  The closest approximation to Ember's fears which may be had by most people might be a long walk in a deep wood on a night. The feeling of being alone and defenseless will quickly help place Ember's journey into perspective. Spending many nights alone in the deep forest and learning what it feels like to hear all of the little noises and realize just how vulnerable a lone human being really is, truly brings the plight of ancient humanity into perspective.

  Ember ran as fast as she could, for what seemed like an eternity. Every time she felt that she might slow, she would hear a noise behind her and would run with new gusto. Once, she even thought that she heard a woman screaming in the same direction from which she had come, but the sound was far in the distance and probably invented by her mind. Even though she had her doeskin shirt and reed skirt, her arms and legs were bare and became marked with many little cuts from brambles and other sharp objects she could not avoid while running in the dark.

  If Ember's body had minor injuries, her feet were a totally different story, having been used to wearing various leather wrappings. Her feet now ached and even bled under the strain of walking these past days. She was now running through thick bramble and sand! Ember was glad her reed skirt remained reasonably intact as the reeds repelled the thorns and branches in the same way thick fur thwarts a predators teeth. Ember's body was quickly growing weak due to the sudden and extended physical exertion. Her vision had slowly become blurry and she had begun to feel light headed. Ember ran over what looked like a grassy mound just as she exited the thick brambles and into a clearing. As she reached the top, she tripped on a rock and stumbled down the other side of the mound rolling and coming up hard against the dew covered ground. Ember rolled onto her back dazed and out of breath. The last thing she saw was the starry sky as the blackness of unconsciousness took her. Perhaps she should have eaten more.

  When Ember awoke, she immediately noticed that the sun was nearly half way across the sky! She had been lying on the ground for a night and half of a day! How far had she truly gotten from the men and would they follow her? Surely they would hunt her for revenge after the wound she had given their leader. Running as she had, Ember knew that she could be easily tracked. Ember rose to a crouch and examined her surroundings for signs of pursuit. She was quickly aware that the sun shone brightly against her slightly dark and tanned skin, the black had worn off, and revealed her to anyone who carefully examined their environment. She stood and walked slowly, cautiously, to the river. This time she looked up first.

  At the river, Ember soaked her feet for a short while before preparing to run again. The river provided reasonably safe water to drink and some small shallows in which Ember found some mussels, which she smashed open with a small stone and ate raw; something which could be done with shellfish. The mussels were slimy, but the taste was tangy and sweet and Ember quickly filled her stomach with as many as she could before moving off and away from the river. She would have to return later when she was sure the men could not find her.

  Ember spent the rest of the day sitting and resting in a small thicket near the river. She sang prayers to the Gods of the forest to hide her from the men and to heal her wounds. Song was very important to Ember's people and many of their prayers were made in the form of simple repetitive chants sung for long periods of time. Ember found the songs soothing and relaxing as she quietly sang them, nearly at a whisper. As night came, Ember covered herself in long grasses to hide her body and fell asleep. She hoped the men and wolves wouldn't come for her because she was simply too afraid and tired to run anymore.

  The next day was filled with half heard sounds and an ever present fear as Ember made her way through the woods near the river shore. She had only slept for about half of the night, giving in to mental exhaustion, then walked and run only a little farther before sleeping again. Sleeping in the open and without a fire, eating what she could find and growing weak, Ember was becoming worried that her luck might run out. What she really needed was a chance to rest and heal.

  Ember was extremely haggard, and her feet bled in a few places with massive sores and abrasions. Her knees were bruised, and she had many other injuries. Worst was her hunger and exhaustion. She had only eaten small raw tubers, the leaves of the tuber plants, grubs from a rotted log, and berries as she had found them. The raw tubers came from beneath beautiful reddish-blue flowers. Most of these flowers bloomed many ten-days before and were now harder to locate, but Ember happened upon several of them. On a few occasions, Ember found some shellfish to eat. Ember had been afraid to catch fish in the river because this is where the men were likely to look for her.

  Each night, Ember had climbed into a tree with an armload of stones to sleep, carefully, on wide branches. Truly she was a wild thing, sleeping like an animal and foraging in the bushes like some furry critter. Ember had endured much at the hands of the Gods and their “signs”. At this point, Ember had decided that she really needed to find some place to weather the coming cold season and heal. Her body was young and strong, but she had abused it for two ten-days and the wear was showing. Ember had experienced significant back pains after multiple nights spent sleeping in trees. Her bottom was scratched and itched from the bark and she had additional pains from legs losing circulation for extended periods of time.

  Ember set on her tree branch during the early part of the third night since having escaped capture. She considered what had happened to her and what she might do about it. Her wounded body was coated in drying river mud to conceal her from anyone who might wander by. Ember carefully flicked away dried mud from her hands and peeled the bark from her tree branch as her mind fought to reconcile the pain she had endured. Ember had come to the conclusion that she did not hate the men who had captured her, but she also felt a since of power at having escaped in such a marshal manner. Somehow it had felt good to break free using a weapon and her own skills. Ember had been slowly coming to the conclusion that she was not merely a leaf in the wind. She had a voice and she would be heard. This was the way of her fallen father and the way of her people.

  As the tree branch began to run out of bark to tear off, Ember came to a conclusion of what she would do. She would give up the indignity and safety of the trees and sleep on the ground. The next day, she would start putting herself back together
and regaining her control. Hiding was important, but so too was a stable food supply, clean water, and a good spear in her hand. She needed to start acting like a human again and not an animal.

  During the early morning of Ember's fourth day since her escape, she was awakened from her tuft of grass, where she had napped, to the screech of an owl. Ember sat up, immediately worried about the men. Though the sun had only just started to rise, owls were generally rare to find at this time of the morning. Ember looked around for the source of the noise, slowly standing and walking towards the river. After a short time, she found the owl. It was perched upon a freshly killed mink by the river. Even an owl would leave a nearby tree during the day if a foolish mink happened too near. The mink was one of the largest creatures that an owl could kill. The meat would keep the owl for many days. Ember was hungry too, and she needed some fresh meat. The owl was a powerful and skilled predator, but Ember didn't care. The thought of cooked mink meat was simply too great to be ignored.

  Ember quickly looked around for stones to use as missiles. This morning she would feast upon roast mink! With an armload of smooth river stones, Ember approached the owl. Upon seeing a competitor for the food, the owl promptly began flapping its wings and screeching at Ember, unwilling to leave such a grand prize. In response, Ember hurled a stone at the owl hoping for a second meal. The owl screeched a few times in defiance, but when a rock blasted through its wing feathers it took the hint and surrendered the mink to the wide-eyed and larger predator. Ember walked, painfully on sore feet, to the mink and stood victoriously over the body.