Ember of a New World

by Watson, Tom

  Pak let go of his confused emotions and tried to make himself angry again. He knew what Rosif had in mind, and he would need to clear his head. He thought of the suffering his group had endured recently, due to this girl. Rosif had gone into a fever soon after the wound had been seared. Pak had spent many long days watching over first both sick men and eventually, after Calpano recovered, only Rosif. Rosif was physically wounded, having lost part of his manhood and possibly his sanity with it. He had partially recovered in a single ten-day, at least enough to become obsessed with killing the girl who had wounded him in so many ways. The group had now been in the wilds for nearly four ten-days, a very long time, and desperately needed to return to their village. This would have to end one way or another.

  As he watched, Ember tripped on a stump and nearly fell, being caught by the blonde haired woman. The two women excitedly chatted about what had just happened, giggling as they spoke. Their humor afflicted Pak, who could not help but smile with them. As he smiled, his tortured thoughts returned to the task at hand. Pak shook his head and stopped watching the women. He had to follow the orders of his leader, but how could he?

  Ahh! Why do choices have to be so difficult? Why am I the only one who seems to have trouble knowing what to do? Pak thought to himself. He shook his head and tried to remind himself that this girl was an enemy… Every time he saw her face, his reaction was not what one would expect from the sight of an enemy. He took a deep breath and forced the thoughts down into the hole where he had forced his conscience.

  Pak pulled back from the bushes and made his way silently back towards the other two in his group, hidden near the river. Tracking that girl had been easy enough. She had made a straight line down the river, moving north as the river turned. They had found her camp and even her simple traps, which did concern Pak and Calpano. Traps meant that she was worried about them following her and clever enough to have set them. Rosif wasn't even bothered by the traps. All he could feel was a burning need for vengeance. The westerly moving river was actually winding more north now than west, but soon it turned and moved south west. Calpano had meant to catch her with an end-around ambush, with the hunters moving south west cutting through the forest, intercepting the river after it turned south. Unfortunately for them, the girl had not continued down the river. After retracing their steps, the hunters had finally found her.

  This whole business is just messy! he thought. He hoped he could stay mad at the girl in light of Rosif's desires. Was it not her fault anyway? Pak was finding it hard to lie to himself as he walked back to his group, being careful to avoid a rabbit trap set in the very bush he was now leaving.

  * * *

  Kat'ja, Kis’tra, and Ember spent the mid part of that same day forging in the wood nearby the camp. Not too far away Sv'en was watching the women as he carefully placed rabbit traps. His traps consisted of a leather thong with a loop which would hang from a low branch or a tiny stick. A slice of tuber would be placed where the rabbit would need to poke its head through the hole to obtain it, or might run through the loop startled. The rabbit would poke its head through the hole, pulling the noose around its neck, and then run away as fast as it could in fear. Once the thong pulled tight, almost immediately, the rabbit's own speed would secure the noose around its neck. The rabbit would sometimes get away, but this took time. Wiley rabbit hunters would check their traps often. Ember always found rabbit traps a little cruel, but so was starvation. The group had taken to foraging and trapping recently as a side project to diversify the food supply. Seeing a large bush not too far away from him slightly swaying, Sv'en smiled and thought of the rabbit presumably caught in his trap. He was confused when he finally made it to the trap and found it unused.

  That night at dinner, Ember and Kis’tra were talking by the fire and eating roast legs of rabbit, thanks to a well-constructed rabbit trap. The rabbit meat was warm and oily, but a little salt and some crispy fire kissed meat tasted like nothing else. Sv'en had caught several rabbits, and there had been enough to go around. Kis’tra had just finished licking her fingers clean when Aya came forward and suddenly spoke up, turning many heads.

  “Where you-go, now, Ember?” She said roughly in the trade language.

  “West...” Ember said, thinking the whole encounter odd. She had already explained this to everyone two ten-days ago.

  “Cold, soon. You-go, soon?” Aya said as if she were prompting Ember to leave this night.

  “Soon, boat soon done,” Ember said in her tiny vocabulary.

  “Good!” Aya said, turning and then leaving the fire. As she did, Ven'Gar stood and followed her, pausing long enough to turn and look at Ember with a confused shrug. Luckily, Aya didn't see the shrug. There was a silence until they left and then the camp broke into discussions and gossip, all the while Ember sat there with a strange and confused look. Kis’tra, now the best with the trade language between the two, and with their larger shared vocabulary made from of their amalgamation of trade and Kis’tra's own language, tried to explain.

  “She jealous of-you...” Ember waited patiently as Kis’tra tried to find the correct words, “She think, Ven'Gar like you. She-want own, leader.” The wording was course, and without depth, but Ember thought she understood the problem, but she didn't understand how it had happened.

  “Why?” She asked Kis’tra.

  “She always, has her pains, always,” Sv'en said, referring to the frequently painful cycles women endured. Sv'en restated his joke out loud in his native tongue as not everyone was fluent in the trade language. He spoke with great laughter drawing smirks from the other women around the fire. Kis’tra shook her head for she didn't know, but she had suspicions. Perhaps Ven'Gar had spoken to Aya of taking Ember as a second wife if Aya would first wed him. Polygamy was a common practice amongst the highest members of many tribes, though Ven'Gar had yet to earn the right to take his first, let alone a second, wife. A second wife often required the first wife's permission, a tough agreement in most cases. If correct, it was a presumption at its worst. Perhaps he had even suggested an interest in Ember in some other way. Kis’tra doubted Aya would take well to any of that.

  Kis’tra would slap Zhek in the head if he ever suggested such ideas. Kis’tra explained these and other suspicions to Ember over the course of the evening. The women giggled away at their ludicrous musings. Regardless of their fun, the tension Aya had caused was partially Ember's fault insomuch as she had at the least come to their group. That night, Ember slept lightly with worried thoughts of the camp. She liked Nor'Gar, Zhek, Kis’tra, Sv'en, Ana, Tor'kal, Kat'ja, and the others, but she was worried that her presence had burdened their group, overmuch.

  The next day, Ember awoke to see Kis’tra hugging Zhek, as they did every morning, before leaving each other for the day. As she performed her normal stretches, Ember thought about the way the two cared for each other and wondered if those were the emotions which caused Aya to become so angered. Ember remained puzzled about what she might do to fix the problem between herself and Aya. She had no songs for this sort of thing.

  After breakfast, several women gathered at the river to fish early in the morning when the fish were easy to find. Aya came down after a short while and made it a point not to look Ember's way. Ember considered trying to explain that she didn't want Ven'Gar, but that was out of the question. Her vocabulary was too poor to explain the details. If she said she didn't want Ven'Gar, she could be implying that he wasn't worth chasing. If she failed to convince Aya, she might become even more fervent in her territorial displays. Ember couldn't care a bit if Aya took all the men in the group for her personal harem and became the matron of five tribes. Ember just wanted to finish the “will of the Gods”, whatever that might be, and return to her people. If only she could speak to these people fully in her native tongue.

  As the day wound on, Ember, Kis’tra, Ena, and Kat'ja all moved off into the woods to forage for food once more. The foraging required farther and farther trips each day due to the les
sening of food. In a formal village, gathering would be regulated by area and by season to keep food stocks in good order. This was why people tended to grow as much food as they could grow. Cultivation was both easier and harder than gathering, at the same time. The easy part was the more predictable food supply and the obvious location of the food. The hard part was bending over all day in the sun. Ember had helped gather grains from her village’s fields and her back still hurt remembering it. Perhaps if they raised animals, life would become easier. Ember had heard of a tribe to the east that raised wild pigs to eat. That would not do with this mobile group, but perhaps it would for her tribe. Ember's mind wandered during these long working periods. Day dreaming helped keep the mind going.

  Each of the women stood in their own area digging tubers from the dirt or picking berries from the bushes. Kat'ja had even found some fallen Early Nuts and filled her reed basket. The birds were out that day with some unusual calls, but this was a different place.

  Perhaps birds sounded different wherever you go, Ember thought as she approached a likely place for a tuber, a now recessed flower stem protruding from the ground. She remembered a specific bird call she had heard each morning from her bed when she was a child. On occasion, she had heard a similar call since then, but only rarely. Such sounds provided Ember with a reassuring rush of memories. Ember knelt and dug a tuber from the dirt with a sharp stick. She placed the dirty little white and elongated tuber in her basket and stood, brushing off her leather skirt before moving forward. Her attention was suddenly caught by a welcome sight. Before her was a sour berry bush! What a good find! She would fill her basket, and her mouth, with loads of the sour, but tasty morsels. As she knelt by the large bush, she noticed something poke through the bush, something sharp and flint colored.

  * * *

  Pak watched the girls fan out and carefully moved ahead of them trying to guess where they would go. Hunting animals was difficult, but Pak found that hunting humans was turning out to be even more complex. Finding the sour berry bush was a boon. He knew that the mischievous girl would most likely see the bait and try to harvest berries from such a large berry bush; anyone would. Quickly, he moved behind the largest berry bush and signaled Calpano with a bird call. Calpano made a bird call in response. Rosif was also close, but not able to provide anything, but an angry growl, so he kept quiet.

  The three men now converged on the troublesome girl. They had been watching the camp for a day now and waiting for the girl to separate from the group. She was actually not alone now, but Rosif couldn't wait any longer, and her company appeared to only be a few young women. Even Pak admitted that it was probably the best chance they would get. As she came to the bush and started picking berries, Pak's breath quickened. He slowly placed the arrow through the bush wanting to ease the startling as best he could. If he scared her too badly, and too fast, she might scream and bring men. So far everything had been easy until he looked into those bright green eyes. They held innocents which filled him with guilt.

  * * *

  Ember nearly screamed as the arrow moved through the bush, slowly, and then up as its owner stood. The fear from the arrow stayed her tongue as she slowly came to realize who the bowman was. The man, barely a man by his youthful features, was about Embers age and about her height. He looked as he had when they had first met, about three ten-days ago. He still wore his leather boots, leggings, breechcloth, over shirt, and a tuft of dark hair, barely kept. When his dark eyes leveled with Ember's, fear rolled through her body dancing up and down her spine. The man slowly walked from behind the bush keeping his stare leveled at Ember. Watching the sharp flint arrow head and the drawn bow made Ember feel panic all over. The need to lower herself towards the ground in fear came upon her and she slowly crouched holding her hands out in front of herself, as though warding him back.

  The cowering was a natural submissive instinct Ember could not yet resist, though a building anger deep within her was starting to push aside such primal instincts. Anger was again slowly filling her veins. She wanted to run, but she knew that she couldn't outrun this hunter, especially in a leather skirt. The man opened his mouth a little and issued a single sound.

  “Shh,” he whispered, emphasizing his bow with his eyes. The message was clear to Ember; don't speak if you wish to live, but would she be allowed to live anyway, if she went with him? Her thoughts were answered when Calpano moved into sight from behind another tree and leveled a deadly stare at her. A tear welled in her eye and rolled down her cheek. Suddenly, Rosif stepped into view. His expression was the opposite of hers.

  Rosif, though she didn't know his name, was as large as she remembered, but now he wore a loose loin-cloth-like apron over his wounded groin. His previous breechcloth was too tight for the incredibly painful injury Ember had given him; the injury which had left him less than he was before and barely able to urinate. His look told Ember her fate before he said anything. She would not just die, no, this man meant to hurt her in as horrible of a way as he could think of. Her only saving grace was his inability to do anything more ghastly because of the injury she had given him. The men were closing in, and the youngest hunter stood not the length of a man from her.

  Ember tried to stand fully once more but found her legs too weak, and so she half-stood in a cower. Ember struggled hard against her fear trying to master it as another tear rolled down her cheek. She had to kill or be killed, but could she do what was needed? Didn't the rabbit in the trap fight as fierce as a wolf? The younger man stopped advancing and watched Ember with a curiously confused look on his face. He seemed almost attached to Ember's emotions the way his expression seemed to waver in tune with hers. The blonde haired man, Calpano if she remembered, whom she had made ill with the poisoned food, kept an eye out for the other women, who were not so far away, while the ever manically smiling Rosif advanced with a visible limp. Calpano had thought this revenge a poor idea and merely wanted it done and finished, however so, as soon as possible.

  Ember watched in panic as Rosif advanced. She held on to her anger, pulling at it, forcing it to the surface. She would need anger if she was the survive this. Rosif towered over Ember when he came to a halt. “Please... I didn't mean...” she started to plead out of desperation, but stopped as she remember that these men didn't understand her. Besides, she had meant to cut him. Her anger flared in response to her momentary weakness. She stared at Rosif head-on.

  You deserved it too, she thought, anger slowly creeping in, slowly starting to outmatch fear... ever so slowly the fire became hotter. The look of perverse pleasure in Rosif's eyes told her that he didn't care, regardless. He reached forward and grabbed Ember by the hair and pulled her fully to her feet. Ember let loose a horrific scream as tears flowed from her eyes. The youngest hunter grabbed a hold of Rosif's arm and pulled trying to keep him from yanking Ember's hair so hard. Rosif threw the young man's arm aside with a sneer and spoke to him in his language as he reached forward and pulled Ember's obsidian blade from her side.

  * * *

  Pak grabbed at Rosif's arm, his emotions taking hold. Rosif glared at him angrily.

  “Let me go before I kill you too! The little beast needs to die. But I'm not doing it fast, no... She will suffer like I did... like we all did!” Rosif said, and with that he yanked her hair again producing another scream.

  * * *

  The brush parted as Kis’tra and Kat'ja appeared. A moment later, Ena burst through the bushes on the other side with a circular flint knife in her hand. The three women had heard Ember and come to see the problem. Now they stood at a distance, too frightened to advance as two of the hunters before them leveled bows their way. Their round stone knives were made for cutting and not for stabbing.

  * * *

  Rosif laughed and smiled at Ember, wagging his finger and scolding in a mocking manner.

  “No, you won't get away this time. Perhaps we will take these women to make up for our lost time,” he said while licking his lips, though Ember didn't un
derstand him. This time Calpano spoke up.

  “We have no need for women. She has wronged us, not these women. You will not harm them. Take her and we will leave before their men come.” Pak thought this sound advice, but he couldn't speak as his mind was racing through thoughts he couldn't quantify. He understood Rosif's anger, but his heart ached each time that girl's hair was pulled. Seeing her face in pain caused him to choke, his eyes holding back tears. He felt a lump growing in his throat and empathy for her which didn't make sense to him.

  Pak kept evaluating the events that had occurred and trying to find her fault in them. She could have killed him while he slept, but she had merely wanted to leave. Rosif wanted revenge for the wound and the warm ice, a rare item, she had stolen, but did he really care about Rosif's revenge? Pak was starting to have second thoughts. Now that he thought about it, Pak realized that Rosif had not actually acted sane once in a ten-day or more. Pak's morals started to weigh in heavily, and he began to realize that lying to one's self was all too easy.

  * * *

  Rosif pointed at the three women and gave Pak and Calpano the nod to capture them. Calpano shook his head and yelled something at Rosif, which Ember didn't understand, but a moment later Rosif replied with something hateful at Calpano and the Pak. He pulled Ember's hair, producing another pain-laden yelp from her, and started dragging her by the hair, making to leave before men came. This was it, she thought, she would either do something now or be a captive again.

  No! She would not be a captive. She would rather die she decided, but she would hurt this one first. He would need another lesson.

  Ember walked behind the large man, being led by her long waist length hair. Rosif held the hair at the center and not near the roots. With such long hair, she had enough room to move a little, and so she moved forward and planted her left foot into the ground right behind Rosif and kicked with her right foot straight up between his legs and into the same place she had once before attacked. Her feet were not so strong or very big, but they were pointy and her target was quite large. Her foot made contact about the moment her hair pulled tight, the slack having run out. Ember was suddenly yanked forward falling to her knees with a scream, which continued even after her mouth shut...