Vaci

If only I had known what Mag was up to, or Jordian, or even understood what motivated Ghutan. If only I had known what was to come. Would I have done something different?

The night was a flurry of activity, packing and readying for an early morning departure. An uneasiness clung to everything and everyone, though most shrugged it off through labor and preparation and the necessities of life. Mag slipped in and out of the layering shadows, breaking her silences only to spar verbally with Jordian. I had done what I could to help the couple I was staying with, and even helped as much as possible with the others. Something had fallen out of balance, and I had the distinct impression I was a factor. By the time we all gathered for supper the jovial mood had returned. Jordian's heavy arm looped affectionately around Mag's shoulder as they sat at the fire, and it almost appeared that the squabble with each other sparked a more amorous mood. According to the scouts, we were heading for Tuchuk lands. The talk turned animated then, with everyone seeming to have a story to tell of dealing with the fierce, wily Tuchuk. I slipped off to talk to the sister Moons, the children stars, and even the dark lap of midnight sky. By the time I finally fell asleep the embers of fire had faded to little more than a few slivers of forgotten red and the gray light of dawn was hovering over the horizon.

I awoke to sounds of shouting, and the cradle like rocking of the wagon, my belly grumbling for the want of food. Mag teased me about sleeping so late and handed me a cold biscuit. The line of wagons lumbered ahead before me and several trailed behind like struggling children trying to keep up with the big kids. Not long after, one of the scouts came racing back toward us. Mag said they must have found the Tuchuk, or the Tuchuk found them. She laughed, but I actually thought I heard a hint of nervousness braided within the nonchalant chortle. He had not found them, or at least not as we thought. He was pointing dramatically behind us, at something that we were not watching for at all. One by one, like dominoes set up in a serpentine line on the floor, mimicking the action of the first, we turned our faces to where we had just been. They were small, mere bobbing dots on the surface of the plains, but there was no mistaking that someone was hot on our heels.

The travelling wagons slowed collectively while debate sprang into the air. Keep on going? Stay put? Was it the Tuchuk come to figure out who was crossing their patch of grass already? Had we already veered into their lands without realizing it? The scouts said no, quite sure they had not moved this far nor laid claim - yet. Was it someone in need? Someone trying to find us? The decision was made to keep moving, though at a slower pace. Leisurely. Without rush. We were neither running, nor attacking, nor sitting ducks waiting. We simply continued on with what we intended to do.

No sooner had we started up again than the other scout paused beside our wagon. His sharp gaze fastened on the distance, never wavering. He spoke one word, low, then again with urgency. "VACI". I was confused, wondering why they would return. The others seemed much like I felt, exchanging odd looks between themselves. By now we could see the sparks of light off of the gold and jewels and there was no mistaking the pronouncement by the Scout was correct. Mag gripped my wrist, while Jordian raced back to us, commanding us all to keep calm. Then he told me to get inside the wagon. This felt all too familiar.

The wagon I had been sleeping in was crammed full of goods traded or for trading. I crouched down in a dark airless spot near the opening of the canvas, watching the scene unfold against a background of brilliant daylight. I pulled the opening apart, and the tinkle of bells at my wrist brought an instant scowl. Ghutan and his men were directing the other merchants, shouting, prodding, prancing around their wagons and demanding they continue onward. On toward where ever it was they were heading. Mag was bargaining, beseeching the men to take ...take whatever they wanted. Take Genesee. Take the bracelet, it was worth more than the girl's flesh. Jordian was at first protesting. Denying he shortchanged anyone anywhere ever. Then he cursed Mag for her own concessions. Air was at a premium. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. I couldn't move. I was frozen, just listening in panicked disbelief to rapid fire words being exchanged.

Ghutan laughed. That same rumbling, sarcastic, evil laugh I had heard before. Others joined in the macabre sound. Their leader wanted to know where the little belled virgin was anyway. I heard how she would make a tasty morsel for the innocent loving Ubar. How she would earn Ghutan his stature back with his commander. Ice water was clogging my veins. Thrumming the blood in my ears so that I could barely hear. I caught Jordian saying something about me being in one of the other merchant's wagons. I leaned back, willing every process in my body to be still, silent, dead. Mag was crying, amid angrily thrown accusations. She told them...loud and clear...that I was still in the wagon. My heart sank, thinking she must be fighting for her life.

Ghutan was declaring their sentences, amid vicious chuckling. Mag would give up her soul for trying to bargain with another woman's soul. Jordian would forever pay for trying to hide his treasures. A voice said search the wagons. It was now or never. I had to do something. I wasn't going to be overlooked like I had managed to do before. Mag was sobbing. Jordian was roaring. I touched the blade handle in my boot, touched the thickness of my journal tucked in my waistband and peeled back the side of canvas and did what i did best...

I ran.