It appeared somewhere in my vision as my sight lifted from the immediate place I was to lay my feet. A small dark signal against the undulating soggy grass. It could have been my mind playing games again, but I didn't care. Perhaps the manifestation of my beckoning voice that looped inside my head to become visual. Maybe it was the fear lacing my brain that gave me something to hold on for. The bobbing wavering dark statue became my focal point, gave me the drive to lift those leaden feet, to push my beyond braking point body just a little longer, just a little more. The claws of the Paravaci's kaiila dug up the ground behind me. I could feel them now, and I knew they were that close. If I could just get a little bit father. Get to that rippling point up ahead.
It grew in shape and form. It had the look of a wild man, covered in blood, standing amid an expanse of nothingness. And I was heading straight for him. There were no jewels and chains of gold. There was no wagon or kaiila in sight. There was nothing...but him, and I knew he was not one with the Vaci. I felt the pace of the Vaci hitch a bit, for they must have spotted him too. That gave me that last final burst of energy. All I had - to make it to his vicinity and expire. I had no more to give. Every breath was torture, every muscle cried with effort, twisting into gnarled bits of pain. Everything was a dizzying blur of mud and grass and feet. I was choking. My heart was going to burst from my chest. I was going to die, and the only comfort that gave me was that I would have slipped from the grasp of the Vaci.
They were there now, the stinking breath of the kaiila assaulted my nose and I felt the pitch and roll of my stomach. That biscuit I had eaten was wanting out in the worst way. My head was so fuzzy feeling, like when I had a fever as a child and Yama had to keep putting cold cloths on my forehead. I had to turn my head just to see the wild man still next to me, and I saw him stand up with arrogance and pride and face those monsters dressed in braids of glittering boasting. I felt my insides melt right then and there, and I suppose that is the quickest way to a woman's heart. The wild man was going to protect me. I wanted to tell him that those other men were monsters, mean bad men. As my mouth opened, still sucking desperately at the air like it might disappear before I got enough, everything melted into fuzzy patches of color.
I had rolled over, attempting to ease the cramping of my body. I was shaking, or was it the ground that was trembling so? I realized it was both, as the Vaci were moving in an odd circle. I lay my head back and glanced over, thinking they were preparing for some kind of ritual. The wild man, the brave man - was relaxed, resting, but oh so watchful. Maybe he was just that crazy to take them all on, and in that moment, I was glad he was. There comes a point in time where the end is no longer in your power. Where all you can do, I suppose, is make it as good for yourself as possible. I was at that point. Too exhausted to even think straight, too overwhelmed with awe over the guts and glory of men, too hopeless to let my life go without taking a stand, or let an other stand alone. I curled upward with the intent to make a difference. The crushing weight that met my chest stole the latest feeble attempt at breath I had.
Needle sharp claws pierced the fabric stretched over my chest as I tried to look up. I met the cruel grin of Ghutan as he leaned over to look down upon me from his perch atop the kaiila that pinned me to the ground. I thought to bargain my life for the life of another, but even stealing a whisper of air for my lungs was torture, and oddly I recalled the fate of the bargaining Mag. One talon bit into the soft flesh of a nipple, another pressed hard against a rib and the heaving chest of the beast expanded above me. Shouting was filling the air, and all I could truly see were legs and arms trampling the grass and blotting out the light of Lar Torvis. Screams, painful screams from men sunk into my bones. My mind was shifting away from me, refusing to comprehend. Others were watching, like it was some kind of gruesome show. All I can remember is rooting for the wild brave crazy man. 'My' wild brave crazy man. Thinking maybe...just maybe...we could survive. Reality reminded me that the Paravaci would probably kill us both. I wanted to be back at the ranch, safe in my bed and not listening to this horror. Then I felt ashamed. The least I could do is pull myself together.
I learned something about the people of the plains that day. I learned something about men that day. For all the cruelty and inhumanity I attributed to the Paravaci, they did not try to annihilate us. Whether I was the prize of Ghutan that he sought, or a mere bauble that gave them a little fun for the day, it all came down to two men pitting skill against skill.
And my brave, crazy, wild man won.
Though I wasn't exactly sure at first. Suddenly things had crumpled around me, and the weight of the kailla lifted from my chest. I marveled at how blue the sky looked as air seeped into my lungs freely. My ribs ached, and the pins and needle effects of fear sprang to life over skin and deep inside flesh. The sickening scent of blood seemed to blot out everything. I turned finally, low to the grass, and everything poured out of my insides in a sickening display. Ghutan was laughing, as were others. Mocking me. I pushed up with more strength than i knew I had and settled my feet firmly against the soft mud.
The man with the yellow teeth came close, bringing with him the dank smell of animals and an unwashed body. He had me by the wrist with one hand and the other was trying to paw places a man had never explored when I spotted the two fighters on the ground. Blood splattered everything everywhere and my knees weakened .The gruesome scene was being cleaned up as I watched and when I finally found my brave Warrior I lurched forward. He was folded against the grass and covered in more blood than ever and I couldn't tell if he breathed or not. I was actually grateful for the hand clasped around my wrist for a moment, though I heard Ghutan bark an order to 'yellow teeth', something about the spoils going to the victor. He released my wrist with a sneer, but not before he sliced off the leather bracelet. The bells chimed sweetly in the wind, in such a contrast to the truth of this bright chilly day filled with death. There was more laughter, and it seemed they thought it would at least appear I was no longer a virgin belled.
Panic must have been written all over my face as I turned to look up to the mounted Paravaci. He told me "he's alive" and everything bubbled up inside. All that bravery, that act of being a man, had brought out the feminine in me. I wanted to help, to soothe, to comfort, to nurture and tend. I told Ghutan that I wanted to help him. To help my brave warrior. The Paravaci grinned wide and said there was not much of him left. Words rose to my tongue, vicious words with bile and anger bitterly lacing them. Telling them all that he was more the man than any of them. But I recognized that Ghutan was not goading me, he was keeping his part of the deal. A deal made between men. He nodded to me to go, and then leaned forward against the neck of the kaiila.
"Go little girl, you are the spent Tuchuk's. But should I see you again, I will not be so generous." I thanked him, and didn't look back again until the thud of their beasts died to mere taps against the earth.
0 comments:
Post a Comment