The day after I had practically kissed the captain’s skin through his tunic, he assigned me to the young Luka for several days. Next, I rode with the silver-haired Fletch who was, as had been Luka, courteous.
We never found the luminous stream again, but smaller creeks weaved alongside or intersected with the path, shallow enough to cross on horseback. We were allowed less luxurious baths in these, the water sometimes only coming to our knees, but we made the most of these creeks. Desperate to be clean, I even lay down in them. The occasional water tree with its useful, feathery leaves full of hygienic sap grew nearby and we grasped at them, rubbing the residue on our bodies and scalps.
Each night, I tried for a position on the chain closest to either Helena, Maureen or Mischa, craving the comfort of a body I knew being nearby. First, I was able to secure a spot next to Maureen. I rested next to the girl I had considered my niece for so long. For a time, amused, we discussed the snarling way Mischa kept whispering profanities in Maureen’s ear all day about each soldier. She confessed it made the days pass with some distraction, although Mischa had complained that Maureen’s bony frame was uncomfortable with which to share a horse.
“Well, we cannot all have the shape of an hourglass like our Mischa,” I said, my face nestled in moss under one of the trees where the chain was fastened. Maureen and I were on the end. On her other side, Helena slept fitfully.
“Edie, have you noticed the men looking at you?” Maureen said, leaning closer. Her face, so young and so like Helena’s, refined in its bone structure, was troubled.
I immediately thought of Alric’s weighted stares, but after what I had begun to think of as ‘the wanton yawn’ against his spine, he had avoided being in my vicinity. Then I chided myself for thinking of him when Maureen was upset. “Looking at me how? In a fleshly manner?”
“Yes. The blond one keeps looking at me.”
Luka had dark goldenrod hair. “I believe you have an admirer in young Luka.”
“No. Not him. Wait, which one is Luka?”
Luka had yet to make an impression on her. “Oh not Luka then. The one called Nash?”
“Yes. Him. He always rides close to me and Mischa. She says he is like a dog in need of a bone. At first I thought he was looking at her because… well, you know.”
“The hourglass frame.”
“Yes. But I think he is looking at me now. And I’m scared.”
“I understand. And you are right to be alert, Maureen. However, two things can offer you comfort. Firstly, the Tintarians are religious and that is why we are alive. I doubt they would have their way with women they believe to be clerics. And secondly,” I made a waving gesture with my left hand, the unchained one, stupidly saying, “they just do not strike me as those kinds of men.”
She hesitated. “But you have told me always to be on my guard. And you and Mischa and Mother have all said to me that nice men are not necessarily nice.”
“Yes. We have told you that. And you are correct. I’m sorry. Listen to your instincts. Keep your eyes open. I think, perhaps, that I do not want to consider that as a factor in our predicament. So much else is on my mind.” What could I say to the girl? I wanted to offer her comfort but also keep her from harm. I told her to stay on her guard and keep the three of us abreast of her observations.
One night, Mischa, dry-eyed, but woebegone lay beside me and told me she felt intense guilt for the complaining she had done about Brox. I told her all women complain about their men and that she was no different. And that while he had been a good man, he had also never picked up after himself and had often rolled off of her after making love and fell asleep whether or not she had taken her pleasure. And while that did not deserve death and we would remember his better behaviors, at the time of her complaints, they had been valid. Another night, Helena and I stayed up, tearing off strips of our shifts and dresses for the women whose courses had begun, Catrin and Quinn and for those soon due, myself, River and Mischa. Helena asked me if I had been mindful of drinking my woman’s tonic since I had been sharing a bed with Levi. I reminded her that I could not conceive a child. And she chided me and said I should drink it anyway. It felt outlandish and normal at the same time. But the three of them kept despair at bay. I hoped I had done the same for them.
The fifteenth day, we entered mist. It was ubiquitous and looked to be pale blue, patches of it so thick, I could not make out the horse’s head over Fletch’s shoulder. Our progress slowed as we made our way through. It was a cloudy afternoon and the sun’s earlier brilliance lingering over the cold, trickling creeks that had found their way back to the road’s side had created a haze. The birdsong was frantic, as if they too could not see what they needed to see.
I heard a faint ‘halt’ from up ahead. Then more closely, Alric’s voice said, “We must stop for now. The trees are farther apart as we near the edge of the forest and here it is not impossible to wander off of the path. Please dismount and secure the prisoners. They may dismount as well, but tie their hands together.”
“Is that really necessary?” cried out Mischa, from somewhere nearby.
No response to her came.
“The sun should pass out from behind the clouds soon and offer us some light to see. We can make our way forward then. You may dip into your jerky and fruit rations.”
“I’m hungry too,” came Eefa’s plaintive voice.
There was a pause and then he said, “If a prisoner asks you, please share with her a small amount of your own rations. Thank you.”
Fletch, who I had begun to think of as a gentleman, bade me dismount first and then followed with a “your hands, madam,” and he looped some rope around my wrists. His tie was secure, but I was not in any discomfort.
“I’m not hungry,” I said, as he untied a saddlebag, looking at me.
“Are you sure?”
“Because we have only been eating dinner, I do not have the urge until nightfall now.”
Around me, I heard the sounds of soldiers dismounting, leading their horses to tie to trees or to find the horses that carried the rest of the women so as to secure them. I stood next to Fletch and his horse and searched the azure mist for a familiar figure. I could hear Alric and Thatcher talking to the men as they felt their way through the mist.
We stood next to our horses and waited. I cannot remember how long we stood, but when I think back on that afternoon, I lament at how long it may have been. Finally, the light began to shine through and the mist thinned enough to make out the shadowy shapes of others. In minutes, we could see each other enough to tell who was where. Far off, on the edge of our company, there was a shout. There was the sound of a scuffle and then a fist hitting flesh and then another.
