The Bronze Blade: An Elemental World Novella by Elizabeth Hunter Page B
Authors: Elizabeth Hunter
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out a high pitched giggle.
Perhaps, if he hadn’t giggled, they might have been able to escape, but she heard the panicked bleating too late.
The ravine opened up to her right, and the girl saw them, standing in a close circle under the pale moonlight. The boys in the village had said they were all gone, but they’d been wrong. The raiders remained. She tried to disappear among the rocks, but one had already turned and spotted her, no doubt searching for the unexpected laugh that drifted on the night wind.
Her heart raced, but the baby paid no heed. He continued to babble and throw his arms out, reaching for the goats. He liked the animals and wanted to be let down to play.
The girl panicked.
“Tsh, tsh, tsh,” she tried to soothe him, throwing a blanket over his face as another one of the men turned. She heard shouts in a language she didn’t understand. She noticed a pool of blood that the men were standing around. She tried to look away, but her eyes were fixed on it, along with the pile of grey and white bodies that lay in the middle like so many stacked stones.
She turned and ran.
By now, the baby had picked up on his mother’s panic, and he was crying, clutching the side of her breast and burrowing his face in her tunic.
“ Mama!” he cried, his voice thin and high in the dry Northern air.
“Tsh!”
Every stone in the path, every branch and root, reached up to trip her as she ran. She heard a noise above her, like a great bird of prey, but she didn’t look back. She kept running.
Then, impossibly, she couldn’t. The path fell away beneath her churning feet as some monstrous thing grabbed her shoulders. A pale hand reached down and yanked at the sling her child rested in, and she felt it come loose.
No.
No!
“Ma! Mama!”
His screams reached the girl’s ears as she rose higher and higher in the sky. She heard the baby’s cries of pain as he tumbled back to earth, and the last glimpse she caught of her son was his vivid eyes, shining bright with tears in the moonlight as his tiny arms reached up.
“ Ma! ”
She didn’t breath until a sharp yank on her hair let loose her fury and pain. The girl screamed long and loud, kicking her legs and biting at the arm that held her. She kept screaming as the creature dragged her higher into the starry sky.
Then something struck her temple, and everything was black.
When she woke, it was in darkness and her arms were bound together with twisted strips of leather. She’d been left in a tent that reeked of old animal hides and rot. Stones dug into her cheek, and she could feel something—probably blood—dry and crusted at her temple. Her lips were split. She could see nothing, because black hair hung over her face.
The old women talked about it, occasionally. Sometimes, the raiders took more than goats. Sometimes, some or all the girls in a village would disappear. They were never seen again. The raiders were men, after all. And what could one small village do? That was the reason girls didn’t wander at night. But First Wife had wanted to know how many goats the raiders had left them, and the girl didn’t argue.
Mama!
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid her mind of his terrified cries.
Ma!
Despite her physical pain, the bitter tears had not fallen until that moment.
She heard someone walk into the tent, then her arms were jerked up, and the bindings bit into her wrist. He grunted and brushed the thick mane of hair away from her face, muttering under his breath.
It was one of the raiders. His hand was cold when he pushed her forehead back to examine her. His grimy fingers lifted her lip to check her teeth, then he pulled off the tunic she still wore, though it had been ripped in many places and barely clung to her frame. She shivered in the sudden cold. He was a tall man, and stocky. He looked her up and down, seemingly satisfied by her appearance. His dirty mouth turned up at the corners, and the girl’s stomach churned with a
Perhaps, if he hadn’t giggled, they might have been able to escape, but she heard the panicked bleating too late.
The ravine opened up to her right, and the girl saw them, standing in a close circle under the pale moonlight. The boys in the village had said they were all gone, but they’d been wrong. The raiders remained. She tried to disappear among the rocks, but one had already turned and spotted her, no doubt searching for the unexpected laugh that drifted on the night wind.
Her heart raced, but the baby paid no heed. He continued to babble and throw his arms out, reaching for the goats. He liked the animals and wanted to be let down to play.
The girl panicked.
“Tsh, tsh, tsh,” she tried to soothe him, throwing a blanket over his face as another one of the men turned. She heard shouts in a language she didn’t understand. She noticed a pool of blood that the men were standing around. She tried to look away, but her eyes were fixed on it, along with the pile of grey and white bodies that lay in the middle like so many stacked stones.
She turned and ran.
By now, the baby had picked up on his mother’s panic, and he was crying, clutching the side of her breast and burrowing his face in her tunic.
“ Mama!” he cried, his voice thin and high in the dry Northern air.
“Tsh!”
Every stone in the path, every branch and root, reached up to trip her as she ran. She heard a noise above her, like a great bird of prey, but she didn’t look back. She kept running.
Then, impossibly, she couldn’t. The path fell away beneath her churning feet as some monstrous thing grabbed her shoulders. A pale hand reached down and yanked at the sling her child rested in, and she felt it come loose.
No.
No!
“Ma! Mama!”
His screams reached the girl’s ears as she rose higher and higher in the sky. She heard the baby’s cries of pain as he tumbled back to earth, and the last glimpse she caught of her son was his vivid eyes, shining bright with tears in the moonlight as his tiny arms reached up.
“ Ma! ”
She didn’t breath until a sharp yank on her hair let loose her fury and pain. The girl screamed long and loud, kicking her legs and biting at the arm that held her. She kept screaming as the creature dragged her higher into the starry sky.
Then something struck her temple, and everything was black.
When she woke, it was in darkness and her arms were bound together with twisted strips of leather. She’d been left in a tent that reeked of old animal hides and rot. Stones dug into her cheek, and she could feel something—probably blood—dry and crusted at her temple. Her lips were split. She could see nothing, because black hair hung over her face.
The old women talked about it, occasionally. Sometimes, the raiders took more than goats. Sometimes, some or all the girls in a village would disappear. They were never seen again. The raiders were men, after all. And what could one small village do? That was the reason girls didn’t wander at night. But First Wife had wanted to know how many goats the raiders had left them, and the girl didn’t argue.
Mama!
She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to rid her mind of his terrified cries.
Ma!
Despite her physical pain, the bitter tears had not fallen until that moment.
She heard someone walk into the tent, then her arms were jerked up, and the bindings bit into her wrist. He grunted and brushed the thick mane of hair away from her face, muttering under his breath.
It was one of the raiders. His hand was cold when he pushed her forehead back to examine her. His grimy fingers lifted her lip to check her teeth, then he pulled off the tunic she still wore, though it had been ripped in many places and barely clung to her frame. She shivered in the sudden cold. He was a tall man, and stocky. He looked her up and down, seemingly satisfied by her appearance. His dirty mouth turned up at the corners, and the girl’s stomach churned with a
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