by Watson, Tom
“Let-go?” he asked, starting to laugh. His hand started reaching for a place on the woman he should not have tried to touch.
“I show-you what...” he began to say. He stopped abruptly with a sudden gasp. The appearance of a shaft protruding from his chest told his disbelieving eyes that he wouldn’t finish the touch. Both Ember and the man stared at each other in shock. She had fired her arrow cleanly and so abruptly that everyone had been taken by surprise! The man tried to grab the slave as he sank to his knees, but she stood firmly and stared at him with vindication and tears in her eyes as he let go and began gasping for air, his lungs quickly filling with blood.
He pulled the arrow from his chest, but the arrow head remained in his body, detaching as it was designed to do. The other four men could only stare in shock as their leader coughed up his life blood, falling to his side and going into shuttering convulsions. Suddenly, the shock of the moment was over, and the men tore their bows from their backs, stringing them and grasping at arrows as fast as possible.
Ember yelled to the women in the trade language, “Down!” The three women dropped to the ground as quickly as they could. Ember used the moment to nock her free arrow and dashed for the trees, running through her small maze of traps hoping to draw the men from the slaves to keep them clear from the arrow fire. She loosed her second arrow in a blind twisting fire as she paused between traps. The arrow shot wide missing the men but the one who had nocked and drew his bow misfired while ducking from the wild shot.
Ember ran behind a tree and pulled her body tightly against the cool bark. Her chest pounded as she carefully selected an arrow from her quiver. For some reason, she noted the fletching was made from a brownish feather. Ember's mind was trying to detach itself from the events unfolding. As she did so, she heard and felt an arrow as it thudded into the tree just behind her head, exploding as the flint arrowhead blew apart from the force of the impact! The sudden thud brought her back into focus.
“Goddess, be with me,” she said to herself as she summoned the courage to return fire. She looked across at Brig'dha who was behind a nearby tree holding her small flint knife and wearing an expression of utter fear and exhilaration. Ember gave her a weary smile and moved sideways to stand in the open where she might take aim. She knew she would be a larger target, but one clear shot was worth the risk.
One man was making a run for her when she took a bead on a second man who was also firing. Ember wanted to duck, but she remembered kicking the wolves that had chased her in the face, and the memory brought forth a short burst of inner strength. She stood her ground ensuring her aim was perfect. Both Ember and one of the men fired at once. The man's arrow flew past Ember's face, just missing her. Her arrow flew true and buried it-self deep within the man's throat. He gasped and gurgled falling to the ground, all thoughts of fighting lost in his own torturous pain. Ember now caught site of the slaves, who had thankfully dropped to the ground and were cowering in fear.
Good, she thought, keep out of the fight. An arrow flew past Ember and another impacted her arm! The arrow head bit into her soft skin as the shaft suddenly turned sideways from its own momentum, cutting her arm open. Blood rolled down her arm, and she dropped to the ground and crawled behind the bushes she had scoped out earlier as a refuge if things got out of hand. Things were getting out of hand.
Behind the bush, her extra arrows lay ready to go. The three remaining men fired at her as she continued to return fire. The man who had been rushing at her had apparently had second thoughts after seeing his companion shot through the neck. Though the men were momentarily at bay, Ember realized she had a forming problem. She had lost the pace of the fight and was quickly being flanked. She only had a few arrows left, as well. Ember had to be daring now and took the risk of lifting her body above the bushes, fully exposed, to take a shot. She knew she would be an easy target firing from above the bush on her knees, but the men were not coming towards the trap, and she had to do something. Ember hoped this would work. Sure enough, an arrow flew into the bushes right in front of her.
Ember let loose a horrified scream and fell backwards her bow falling away from view. She wailed and started crawling away from the bushes on her side with an arrow coming from her stomach, seemingly buried deeply. Blood dripped down the arrow as she cried and squealed, dragging herself as she crawled away. The victorious men came forward quickly dropping their bows and pulling daggers. A deep wound to the lower stomach could leave this crazed woman in agony for a day before she died, but their urge to finish her by hand was overpowering! She had killed at least two of them. They would cut this beast-of-a-woman's throat. A pack of wolves was always stronger than a little red fox. Unfortunately for these wolves, the fox was more cunning.
In his haste to finish the woman, the first man stepped directly onto a spike trap and fell forward in a tripping motion as his foot was suddenly held fast by a hand length spike protruding from the upper part of his boot. He screamed louder than the wounded woman in front of him. The other two men turned as they ran past to see what had happened to their friend. For one of the two men, this was a big mistake. He stepped onto another upturned spike which failed to puncture his boot but tripped him, sending him sprawling forward. He landed face first on another trap. He was dead before his body stopped moving. The last man now turned to the wounded girl, who was suddenly up and not so wounded!
As she stood with her recovered bow in her hand, she let go of the arrow from her side. The arrow fell to the ground with a soft clatter. She had held it tightly against her waist to give the illusion of an arrow poking through her. The blood had come from her cut arm. The arrow in the bush was close, but the rock Brig'dha had placed in the bush had stopped it, as Ember knew it would when she had chosen that bush as an ambush site. Slowly, she nocked her arrow. The man looked around in terror, suddenly realizing that he stood in a small field of unseen traps and worse, he had brought a flint dagger to a bow and arrow fight. Ember stood at a standoff distance with a razor sharp flint headed arrow and a vicious, if not somewhat forced smile.
"Remove-clothes," she said. The man stared at her with a true confusion. Brig'dha actually had a confused look, as well. Such acts were more generally associated with men than women. Sensing his confusion, Ember pulled the bow string tighter to show her dangerous intent.
“Remove or-die.” Ember waited as the man pulled off his clothes and stood before her just as frightened as the women he had enslaved. She had decided to spare this man. Enough lives had been lost, and no more would be lost, unless no other way could be found. He would have to return to his tribe and explain this whole mess, and that might be worse than death. She could hear the stories now; we were attacked by fifty warriors! She halfheartedly smiled at the thought.
“Go! Go-home. Run!” The man walked carefully looking from the deadly spiked ground to the arrow and the crazed red headed woman holding it. He held his hands out at her in fear, as though warding himself from her while backing off, then suddenly took off in a run. Ember fired her arrow near him to keep him running.
That one won't come back for revenge any time soon, she thought, grimly. Ironically, she would have been ill equipped for a fight if he had tried, for she was actually nearly out of arrows.
Ember carefully nocked her last arrow and walked towards the enslaved, but now free, women. The scene before her was quite intense. A man lay on the ground face down in a pool of gore, occasionally quivering. Near him was a man holding his booted foot and whimpering in anguish. Brig'dha had come out of her hiding place and now stood by the wounded man with her knife at the ready. Not far from the women laid a stilled man with an arrow in his throat and next to the women, a man laid holding an arrow-hole in his chest. He was either dead or soon would be. She couldn't tell if his jerking was life or the shakes a body experienced after death as the spirit left.
When she approached the women, Ember suddenly felt a cold shudder throughout her body and fell forward to her hands and knees. The enorm
ity of what had happened filling her like a sickening and cold liquid. Ember vomited all over the ground as the adrenaline wore off. Her pain started to become noticeable. Her left arm had a slice the length of her finger across it. The slice was not deep, but it would need to be cleaned and possibly burned before it became warm and sore. Her body had other random aches and pains as well, but the nausea only lasted a short moment. Ember was unsure of how she should feel. Pain, sadness, the thrill of victory, shame; all of these emotions danced through her mind.
Ember slowly stood and staggered over to the women who were still cowering and crying.
“It-is good, now. Stand. Can-you walk home?” She removed her dagger and cut their bindings. Each woman wore plenty of clothing, and they were in generally good condition. The oldest woman, not more than a few seasons older than Ember, shook her head up and down meaning, “yes.”
“Your home, two days walk?” she asked, pointing the way of the previous village. The oldest girl nodded yes again. Ember smiled and handed the lead girl the knife from the dead man at her feet. She removed the dried meat from one of her pouches and handed it to the woman. It was plenty of meat for a single meal for the three. She gave each one of them a smile and motioned them to leave. She would spare them the horror of cleaning up after the battle. As the three women stood, unsure of what to do Ember moved towards them again and gave each a reassuring hug.
“Go. Go-home. Good life. Many babies!” She gave them a wide smile and slowly they started to walk. The youngest woman, nearly a girl really, looked back at Ember and spoke in the trade language for the first time.
“What your-name?” she asked.
“Ember, This Brig'dha,” Ember replied using her hands to gesture. The woman stared into their eyes for a long moment, then turned with wet eyes and slowly joined the other two women. Ember watched them go beyond the rise and towards their home. She was sure they would make it with only two day's journey ahead and a bright moon to come.
Ember and Brig'dha would need to clean up this mess before they left. A yelp caught her attention, and she saw the wounded man. He was trying to pull free his foot from the spike, but without the ability to bring himself to do it. The stick was as thick as three of her fingers and would leave a massive hole when it was removed. Worse, from the angle of his leg, it appeared that his ankle was broken. Ember wasn't sure he would live if he pulled it out. If he left the spike in his foot, he would die of the sweats and redness. Ember motioned Brig'dha to leave him alone, and they moved to the other men. The two women pulled each by the legs to the gully near the wounded man. There, they carefully stripped the weapons and valuables from the men and left each of them face down in the dirt. She should feel some pity, but the memories of the anguished looks on the faces of the tribe she had passed and the dead in the ruined village she had once seen held back most of her sympathy. These men were in need of a lesson, and she would bring it. Ember was a warrior, was she not?
On the men, Ember found five flint daggers, twenty good flint arrows, and enough leather thong to string a full hut. They placed all of these items in the cramped boat and removed the spikes form the ground to prevent others from being hurt. Before they left, Ember returned to the wounded man. No matter how little remorse she could feel for the men she had killed, she was unable to keep those feelings for the wounded man. He had this terrible habit of looking at her with pained eyes. She felt that she had done the right thing. In fact, his wound came as a result of running at her with a knife, ready to kill her as she apparently bled to death from her supposed arrow wound. No matter how she rationalized it, she still felt sympathy for the man.
"I-am sorry," she said, and placed some dried meat, a few of her sharpened sticks, and some dry brush by the man. If he wanted he could try and make a fire to close the wound in the foot when, if, he removed the spike. He would likely die alone in the wilds with a ruined foot, but that wasn't Ember's problem. He chose his path, quite literally, with a dagger in his hand ready to kill a wounded woman. Perhaps he might come to some resolution with the Gods. Ember and Brig'dha walked away from the man and slowly boarded their boat.
Chapter 19: The End of the World
The morality of taking a life to save a life has been debated for as long as people have lived. When is one action truly more right than another? Ember took a stand against impossible odds to carve out her own version of what was right from wrong. Doing so saved the lives or at least restored the previous lives of three women, but it also cost the lives of four men. This is a question and a balance Ember will be forced to live with.
What is moral at present and what was or will become moral is open to debate. Each culture envisions its own moral system as being the correct way of approaching life and other systems of morality as being less than perfect, to wholly immoral. Regardless of the details, the core tenants of human morality appear to be uniform and are likely the result of a long lineage of evolutionary winners who held these secular morals. Those who did not value life or preferred anarchistic values simply had a lower chance of passing on their genes. Ember may simply have reacted as her ancient ancestors would have.
In the end, morality is likely informed by the choices which are most likely to further the species and individuals and not by some metalogical higher authority. Each human alive is the direct descendant of a long line of survivors who valued themselves and their immediate fellows.
Ember and Brig'dha were silent as they rode through the wide expanse of the quickly ending river. During the fourth day past the attack, they came upon wetlands, areas where the water expanded beyond the river in the grassy fields of water, mud, reeds, and innumerable animals. By the end of the day, they had come to a large open area of connecting waterways. Off the side of the boat were small inlets with reeds along their banks. Large trees dipped low by their own weight, their branches entering the water in many places. Going ashore here would be much more difficult than the much narrower and faster parts of the Great River Ember was used to. As the next eight days passed, the women passed the time with idle chatter as they sped down the river towards an unknown future.
During the eighth day since the attack, the women came upon the widest part of the river Ember had ever seen. More impressive than the shallow waterways and wetlands was the open expanse of water before them. In fact, the waterway opened in each direction, alluding to an endless expanse of water beyond sight. Before them lay the end of the world!
Ember stared at the expanse unable to fully take it in. To her left, she noted that the land continued for quite some distance, perhaps a full day’s walk. To the right, the land simply ended in no more than a short walking distance. Ember nearly fell out of the boat while trying to stand, causing Brig'dha to burst into laughter. The water from the Greatest River stretched as far as the eye could see! This made the Great River seem but a mere stream by comparison. As the water expanded, the wetlands faded, and small beaches could be seen. The women quickly maneuvered the boat to the left hand shore, towards the beach.
Ember removed her boots and made ready to jump into the water as the boat approach the land. The water was very cold when Ember jumped out of the boat to help pull it ashore, causing her to gasp. The under current was nearly as unexpected as the temperature. The water was also nearly too deep to walk in. Ember was actually fearful as she felt the water tugging at her legs, trying to pull her away. Brig'dha dug her oar into the ground and pushed against it forcing the boat forward. Together, the women pulled the boat onto the pebbles that formed the start of a beach.
After securing the boat, Ember simply stood and took in the view of the Greatest River. Before her was an eternity of water. The water stretched the width of the world and traveled to the horizon. The sun was low on the horizon, making the scene even more beautiful. Ember simply stood and watched the gray-blue water with whitecaps forming and waves crashing. She did not even realize that she was shivering from the cold water on her legs and a light breeze. Slowly, Ember walked out onto t
he sandy beach and towards the water. A tear rolled down her eye as she took in the enormity of the world. She had done it... she had journeyed to the end of the world. Even if she died right now, she had still completed her quest. Or had she? Suddenly, Ember's mind and victory were both at odds. She quickly rolled the facts around in her mind:
Nothing is beyond the End of the World.
Brig'dha's island is beyond where I am.
Therefore, I am not at the end of the world.
No!
Ember slowly sank to her knees. She realized that she had a little father to travel. Unfortunately, her final trip was totally alien to her. The Greatest River, later named the North Sea, was vast and unforgiving. Brig'dha's people sailed this waterway and her stories of vast storms and epic waves suddenly sounded truer than when she had heard them, days before. Ember took a deep breath, held it, and then blew it out.
Just a little more work to do...
Needing to get their minds off of the coming trip, Ember and Brig'dha spent part of the evening exploring the beach. The pebbles were of all shapes and sizes and were washed smooth by the never ending splashes from the Greatest River's waves rolling ashore. With the night rolling in, the women created a small camp with a raging fire to await the morning. Driftwood could be found scattered along the beach in plentiful quantity. The early thawing season sun and a not-so-wet wet season had dried much of it, creating a significant fuel supply. As they sat by the fire eating deer meat from sticks, the conversation shifted from the mundane discussion of food to the final trip to Inn'bry'th and the dangers of crossing such a massive river. Ember sat in suspense as Brig'dha spoke more of her homeland.
“You-see 'Bigworld' from Inn'bry'th, some times. Travel Greatest River is-danger. Water comes, water goes. We-must flee-from sun, eat, and follow-sun. Will-take many day.” As Ember listened, she realized that Brig'dha was speaking of a trip to the west. In the morning, they would have the sun at their backs. After eating a mid-day meal, they would follow the sun. Ember wondered what would happen if they failed to reach Inn'bry'th by night. The other main problem, as Ember saw it, was the boat. The boat rode too low with too many supplies. They would need to dump the food and water and bring as little as possible; not a good choice before a trip into the unknown. Additionally, they would need to use the small pots, provided to remove water as it filled the boat, while trying to battle the powerful waves Ember could plainly see in the Greatest River. This was going to require lots of work and hard rowing too! The oars Sv'en had made were much wider at the ends than her original boat oar had been and would allow the women to move as they wished, unless some unknown current carried them away into eternity. These were all grave problems to be overcome, and Ember was not sure if she was up to the challenge. As if seeing the contemplations on Ember's face, Brig'dha continued, slowly and using her hands to aid the words.