Ember of a New World (28 page)

What could it possibly hurt?
She wondered.

*  *  *

Pak watched from the brush as Ember and a light blonde haired woman walked towards the camp-proper singing some sort of working song. He had seen enough. These people had taken in the girl who had caused his group much trouble, though he couldn't help how he secretly felt an odd sense of respect for her as she had taught that aggressive and bullying Rosif a lesson he would not forget. Pak had troubles with his secret feelings of relief at her departure and that he now found her safe. She was a sort of enemy now, perhaps, and before she had been a mere woman; his groups' property. He had considered taking her as a wife, but this had been a fanciful notion. He was the youngest of his group and would have the last say if any, and secondly he hardly knew her. She would probably dislike such a young warrior without any name for himself. She might even resent being
captured
, but maybe not. A woman by herself, in fact many men as well, in the wilds would probably die without protection. Certainly she would have come to understand this, had she remained and witnessed more of the wilds o
n the way back to his village.

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 h
ave 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 un
used.

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 lan
guage.

“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 Em
ber to leave this night.

“Soon, boat soon done,” Embe
r 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 ex
plain.

“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, lead
er
.
”
The wording was course, and without depth, but Ember thought she understood the problem, but she didn't u
nderstand 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 ta
king 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 peop
le 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 lessening 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 dreami
ng 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
N
uts 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 reassurin
g 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.