Vessel

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by Lisa T. Cresswell


  “Ah, chit!” he called, happy to see me, as if I were a favorite pupil of his from long ago. I hadn’t eaten in hours and became suddenly aware of how sick I felt.

  Weevil stepped between Tow and I, blocking my path. Tow, busy with his own thoughts, kept going.

  “What have they done to you, my pretty one? Let me see.” Weevil clucked as if he really cared. He reached to pull my drape aside, but I took a step back, and his hand clutched only emptiness.

  “My Master forbids it,” I apologized. Dine never actually said the words, but I knew I wasn’t allowed to go out without the billa covering me. No one but Dine could look upon me. Perhaps he was ashamed of what his wives had done?

  I tried to control my feelings, but the fabric in front of my face trembled along with me. More than anything, I wanted to run, but slaves couldn’t walk away from owners and masters until they were dismissed. Why had Tow left me? Weevil had me all to himself, and there was little I could do to protect myself without breaking some rule.

  “You were mine before you were his, don’t you remember, chit? Your own mother gave you to me for a pittance, glad to be rid of you no doubt,” he taunted me as he moved in closer and reached for the cloth between us again.

  “Please don’t,” I begged. “Master will punish me.”

  I wished we weren’t on the street where everyone could see. If we were in the woods, I might be able to run away, but here, everyone would know I’d disobeyed. Punishment for such a thing could be as severe as death.

  Weevil caught me by the wrist and jerked me toward him with such force that I stumbled into him. He shoved the drape away from my face with a rough, calloused hand, looked at me for a split second, and froze. Not even Tow had ever dared to look upon my face. I was as shocked as Weevil was when the sun hit my eyes, but I moved quicker than he did. I slammed my forehead into his nose, his jagged teeth cutting into my face in the struggle. Blood spurted from his nose and across my head before he released me and stumbled back. Dabbing at his face, Weevil saw his own blood on his dirty fingers and lunged for me. He tackled me, knocking me to the ground. I clawed at the dirt, trying to get away, my billa threatening to fall. Weevil grabbed my leg and flipped me onto my back like a turtle. I screamed when I saw Master Dine standing over me with his club. I raised my arms to shield my face. Instead of attacking me, Dine swung hard at Weevil, hitting him in the ribs and sending him to the ground at my feet.

  “I’ll thank you not to damage my property,” said Dine as Weevil writhed in pain. Dine took a step back and addressed me, his chest heaving. “Get up, chit! You’re supposed to be at home.”

  I struggled to stand, my forehead aching from my attempt at self-defense. Did Dine see my act of disobedience? I scolded myself. If Dine knew what I did, he’d lock me up for punishment, and my prisoners would be the Envoy’s next sacrifice to Mother Sun. How could I be so careless? But Dine shoved me toward home, giving me permission to run. For once, I didn’t mind the push. As I turned the corner, I saw Weevil’s furious eyes still on me. He wanted my life now, and he was determined enough to take it from me.

  ***

  The Envoy slept well while I spent the next few hours slaughtering, cleaning, and cooking their meal. I was stupid to waste my hippa in their tea. There would be no need to use more tonight. They’d be drunk on meat and honey wine. No one would go looking for prisoners tonight, no one but me.

  Because Dine’s house wasn’t large enough, tables were set outside and an enormous bonfire built in the street. The moon, two days shy of full, shone on the festive Envoy in their loud colors. The nightly aurora, Mother’s Love, was especially vibrant, flickering hues of green across the night sky. Dine’s family wore their best as well. Several of the village women served food and drink, happy to have the privilege of waiting on such esteemed men. No one noticed when I disappeared after dinner.

  I emptied the remains of several dinner plates into a rucksack and added several hunks of fresh bread and a flint stone. With the key still safely in my pocket, I set out for the ruins. Although it was dark, the aurora bathed the forest in light. It was easy to find my way, almost too easy. I thought once or twice I heard footfalls behind me, but I never saw anyone. I quickened my pace and ducked off the trail.

  ***

  As usual, the ruins were like a tomb. The only sound from inside was Kinder’s ragged breathing.

  “Recks!” I called. “You must wake up. It’s time to go.”

  I saw him stir, shaking Kinder awake. He came to the window.

  “What is it?” he asked, his fingers gripping mine through the tiny window.

  “The Envoy arrived today. They’re here. And there’s something else you should know.”

  “What?”

  “They brought a slaver with them.”

  “Do they mean to sell us?”

  “I don’t think so. This man, no one escapes him. He’s called Weevil. You mustn’t let him catch you.”

  “I’m not afraid. I’ve escaped such men before.”

  “There’s no one like Weevil. Don’t risk it if you can help it. He doesn’t hesitate to kill.” I wished for once Recks could see my face so he’d know I meant what I said. Instead, I dug my fingernails into his hand to emphasize my point.

  “Okay, I get it,” said Recks. “Did you find the key?”

  “Yes,” I whispered, fumbling around in my pocket for the piece of iron. My hands shook as I tried to find the keyhole in the darkness, the key clinking on the door each time it missed.

  “And the horses?”

  “They brought five. I’ll show you where they’re being kept.”

  Finally, the key found its mark, and the door swung open. Free at last, Recks stepped out and embraced me in a tender hug.

  “Thank you,” he said, releasing me. It took a moment for my voice to come back; I was so surprised.

  “I brought some supplies for your trip.” I handed him the bag of food. “Can you walk, Kinder?”

  “Its walk or die,” he answered. “Lead the way, Alana.”

  I smiled when he said my name. “Follow me,” I said, turning to climb the stairs.

  Kinder leaned on Recks, who pulled his thin frame up the stairs.

  “Is it far?” he asked.

  “Yes. We have to go around the village. The horses are kept on the other side behind Master Tow’s.”

  Kinder coughed hard even though he was leaning heavily on Recks. I stopped to let him catch his breath.

  “You must be quiet. There’re many people out tonight,” I warned. “Perhaps we should wait until later?”

  “Oh, just leave me,” complained Kinder bitterly. “Save yourself, Recks.”

  “But you were going to take us to Lhasayushu. Don’t you want to go home?” Recks insisted.

  “You don’t need me. Just head east.”

  “Nonsense. You’re coming.”

  “I put us all at risk. Leave me,” Kinder insisted.

  “Perhaps if Kinder waited here, we could get the horse, and you could return for him,” I said.

  “That’s a good idea. Once you’re on the horse, you’re safe, Kinder. We’ll get you out of here,” said Recks.

  We left Kinder hidden under a crumbling stone bridge with all the supplies and the blanket. Recks followed me like a shadow through the moonlit pine forest around the outskirts of the village. As we crept closer to the sound of music and laughter, he slipped his warm hand around my cold one so unexpectedly I jumped.

  “You’re coming with us, aren’t you, Alana?”

  “Shh,” I warned, tired of trying to explain reality to him. I pulled Recks further back into the shadows. Out in the clearing, Anders stood at the head of one of the tables, about to speak. Everyone fell silent, anticipating his words. His voice carried all the way to where we crouched in the brush.

  “Let us remember,” he said. Automatically, everyone covered their eyes with their hands in symbolic remembrance of The
Day. Everyone except Anders.

  “In 2112, on the eighteenth day of April, Mother Sun took the machines from mankind and plunged the world into darkness. Many perished. She did this to remind us of her power, her control, and her love. Mankind had forgotten Mother Sun, and she was displeased.”

  “Who is that?” Recks whispered next to my ear.

  “The man who intends to try you tomorrow.”

  “Where is the one called Weevil?”

  I searched the crowd, but I didn’t see his gray hair anywhere. I felt my jaw tighten. “He’s not here.”

  We crept behind the nearest house, the sound of the crackling bonfire and Anders’s voice following us.

  “When mankind swore off machines, Mother Sun blessed him once more,” he continued. I knew without looking that everyone had uncovered their eyes. That’s the way it was done, darkness and light.

  “Mankind will never forget her lesson. We will never allow machines to replace our Mother in the Heavens. Those who try will be punished severely. She feeds and clothes us. Without her, we are nothing. Cross her, and mankind will be nothing.”

  ***

  When we made it to the horses, Recks released my hand. Cold again, I pulled it into my billa, savoring the feel of his grip even after it was gone. He quickly surveyed the animals and chose the largest. I helped him find a rope for it since the bridles covered in bells wouldn’t do.

  “We need another one,” said Recks.

  “It will be easier if you and Kinder ride together. He needs you.”

  “What about you?”

  “I’m not going.”

  “What?”

  “Get on the horse,” I urged, offering him a knee to step up on.

  “I can’t leave you in this place.”

  The horses nickered at the sound of someone walking into Tow’s house. The light of a small flame shone through the window.

  “Get on the horse, Recks,” I said more forcefully than I’d ever said anything. “This is my home. I’m accepted here. No one else would have me.”

  Recks pulled himself up onto the horse’s back and threw a leg over the other side. He leaned down to me, beckoning me to take his arm and jump on behind him.

  “Please?” he urged as the back door of Tow’s house opened. Someone peered out into the darkness.

  “It’s Weevil! Go!” I said as I ran for the forest and the cover of darkness.

  “Stop!” I heard Weevil shout as Recks kicked the horse into a gallop. I hoped he’d get back to Kinder in time. I ran from the sound of confused, angry men shouting. I had to get back to Dine’s before I was missed.

  “Alana!” Recks called. Instead of fleeing, he’d circled the horse back around, searching for me in the dark woods. Part of me was furious he would be so foolish, but part of me wanted to run away with him. I stopped and let him find me.

  “Recks, you mustn’t stay here. I cannot go. Just look at me.” I threw off the billa and let Mother’s Love bathe my face in the blue-green glow. His expression was hard to read. Was it horror or pity? Disgust? The light of torches behind us grew closer.

  “Alana, you’re an angel. It’s just one more reason to fly.”

  The noise of the men grew ever louder. There was nothing else I could do.

  “Help!” I screamed as loud as I could.

  “Alana, don’t,” he pleaded, his horse dancing around me.

  “I’m sorry, forgive me,” I said, tears streaming down my face before yelling again. “Help!” I threw my billa over my head and ran for home, leaving Recks to flee from the search party. I saw him kick the horse hard and gallop away toward the bridge and Kinder. I felt afraid, happy, and sad all at once. My toe jammed under a root as I ran, and I fell hard. When I lifted my head and adjusted the billa, I found myself surrounded by men on horseback, their torches illuminating the forest.

  “It’s Dine’s slave,” one man said. He wore the robes of an Envoy. “Which way did he go, chit?”

  I pulled myself up to my knees and looked at the man addressing me. Weevil hovered next to him, glaring at me with red eyes and showing his pointed teeth as he panted. I choked back a real sob.

  “He knocked me down,” I stammered, trying to waste time. “Who was that?”

  Weevil jumped down from his horse and jerked me up by my arm. He ripped the billa off my head. My face drew gasps from the Envoy, but Weevil only sneered, unafraid.

  “Answer the question, chit!” he screamed. “Where is he?”

  I let the tears I’d been holding back go. My shame was more than I could bear. I almost wished Weevil would snap my neck like I’d seen him do to others, put me out of my misery. The longer I distracted the search party, the better Recks’s chances would be.

  “I don’t know,” I blubbered between sobs. “I think he went that way.” I pointed down the trail toward Master Dine’s house, the way I’d been going. Weevil threw me back down and returned to his horse.

  “What are you doing out here alone anyway?” asked an Envoy.

  “Master Tow ordered me to feed the prisoners. I didn’t have time earlier.”

  Weevil kicked his horse into a run and the others followed.

  “Go home to your master at once,” the Envoy ordered me. “And for Mother’s sake, cover yourself.”

  I watched them gallop off in the wrong direction, relieved to pull the billa over myself once more. Safe in my cocoon, I hurried home.

  I dreamt of Recks often after that. The memory of his kindness was a fragile blue egg I carried with me everywhere, even in my sleep. It was mine. No one could take it from me.

  He and Kinder weren’t found that night. A frantic search lasted several days, but no one even so much as caught sight of them. For me, it was like setting a wild bird free. Once loose, it never returns.

  I’d been under suspicion at first. Weevil was certain I knew something, but Master Dine wouldn’t allow him to beat it out of me. The key was never found. Finally, the Envoy gave up and returned to Gora empty-handed. Roma’s shame was complete. The citizens had little hope the Envoy would return for summer celebrations, even though they promised they would.

  Some blamed me, but many accused Tow, who was ultimately responsible for the prisoners. After all, I was only a stupid chit. How could I have done such a thing on my own?

  Given all that, the mood was positively jovial when the Tale Tellers arrived two moons later. With the coming of summer, travelers became more common. Most carried items for sale: hard to find fruits, textiles, and other luxury items. The Tale Tellers brought nothing but humor and entertainment. They brought stories everyone knew and acted them out in the street for whoever wanted to watch. I’d been too busy to listen in the past, but this year felt different. Now I longed for stories, to know something of the world besides the trail from Roma to the river. Recks had convinced me there was more, and I hungered for it.

  They set up camp on the far edge of the town square. Their little covered wagon, painted red and blue with splashes of yellow, served as backstage and sleeping quarters. Their huge gray horse was hobbled nearby. She happily munched the green meadow grass while her owners cooked a bit of meat over an open fire and laughed heartily. Two women accompanied a man with a bushy blond beard. I thought they might be his wives, but the younger of the two might have been his daughter. They arrived on market day with several other vendors who also camped at the meadow.

  Dine sent me to the market with a sack of new potatoes to barter for some more chickens. I didn’t tell him it was hopeless. Everyone in Roma had potatoes to barter, and the vendors would soon have their fill. Maybe if I got there early, there’d still be some hope. I grabbed a small bag of salt from the cupboard and pulled a few sprigs of fresh herbs from our garden to sweeten the deal. No one ever turned down salt.

  As I rounded the corner that morning, I saw everyone else had the same idea I did. The meadow was lively with women and children crowding around the stands. Music from a ti
ny tin whistle flute and a hand drum played underneath it all, weaving in and out of the laughter and talking. So few people in Roma could actually play music. The sound drew me to the little red and blue wagon like sweet cakes drew children.

  When I saw the horse, I stopped breathing. So calm, the mare didn’t look like she had that night with her nostrils flaring in the moonlight, but I knew she was the horse Recks escaped on. Dapple-gray horses weren’t that unusual, but this one was too familiar. I coughed to pull another breath into my chest. My eyes flitted around, scanning for some sign of Recks. All I saw were the Tale Teller and his oldest wife playing their song. I waited there until they finished, not moving away with the crowd until the man noticed me.

  “Yes?”

  “Excuse me. Where did you come by that horse?” I asked.

  The man puffed out his burly chest as if I had accused him of stealing. “Bought her fair and square, I did.”

  “From whom?”

  “Who’s asking? A slave? What’s it to you?”

  “Nothing, Master,” I said, backing away. Maybe Recks gave her up for food? What if something happened to Kinder? Kinder needed the horse. A million horrible possibilities spilled into my mind. I retreated into the crowd to find a vendor with chickens, trying desperately to focus on the task at hand so I wouldn’t go crazy with worry. The performers continued with another song louder than the last. With the salt and herbs, I was able to trade for one small hen, which I tucked under one arm to keep still while I carried the unused sack of potatoes in my other.

  As I turned to go, I noticed the performers were telling a story. People drifted toward them and I followed. There were three performers now, the youngest wife playing the drum to add effect to the story. As near as I could tell, it was “The Tale of the Three Red Hats.” The farmer and his mate argued over what to do with the last of their bread. Knowing what would happen, the audience shouted advice to the farmer, but the bearded man wasn’t the one who held my attention.

 

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