Monday, October 20, 2008

Chapter 5: Capture

Abish was smart and strong, but nothing in her young life could have prepared her for life on the street. The first few days were not so bad. The sacrifice day crowds made blending in easy. The few city guards had their hands full with drunken rioters and petty thievery, so vagrants sleeping out went unnoticed. Then, five days after her father’s death, she awoke on a street one morning to find that it had been nearly deserted. The crowds, so noisy and concealing the night before, had vanished as if by magic. She would have to be cautious. As her belly grew increasingly hungry she fought doubts about the wisdom of her decision. She didn’t dare go back to her home, not knowing what would happen if she was caught and associated with her father. Besides, there was nothing left there for her.

She started spending her nights in the forest, gleaning what she could from the picked over plants. The heat was merciless and no relief came. She never remembered a year when the rains hadn’t come within a few days of the sacrifice. More often than not, the crowds leaving the city created a muddy morass of frustrated animals and waste. But not this year: the streets were as dry and dusty as they had been for six full moons. Could it be that her father’s prophesy was already manifesting? Even in her distracted and hungry state, she heard whispers in the market-place. Many wondered about Armac’s last words and if they had, indeed, come from some other, more powerful God they knew nothing of. And though she knew it was not yet time for her to speak about what she knew, she began to see, even in her deep grief and shock that his death had served a purpose.

The first time Abish stole food from one of the market stands her guilt nearly consumed her as soon as the hunger pangs wore off. Even before her father’s conversion, he had taught her that stealing, in any form, was wrong. She could not live this way. It only took a few days of pilfered fruit and restless dreams for her to realize there was no choice but to try and seek out her mother.

She left Middoni along the road she knew was in the direction of Midian, trying to fight the deep feelings of disappointment. What had she expected? To ask such a question was to answer it—a miracle. She had hoped that God would somehow intervene and all would be well. Her father had told her that such a thing would not happen, but in her deepest heart she had hoped beyond reason. Her faith in her new religion didn’t falter, but it was apparent that her prayers would not always be answered. She traveled the unfamiliar road for most of the day, feeling hungrier and thirstier than she’d ever felt. She had no idea how long she had to walk this road or even how she would find her aunt’s home when she arrived in the city.

During the next morning, she passed a turning point toward the Land of Ishmael and the great city Jerusalem but her destination lay in another direction. She found a spot where there were some trees and a small stream. Hungrily, she collapsed to her knees, gingerly cupping her hands to scoop water from the small pool. Water had never tasted so good to her and she was amazed that water was even running after the months of dryness. There were some edible grasses nearby that she munched on, but they only served to make her hungrier. Again, she wondered how many more miles she would have to travel before reaching the city of her mother’s people. She tried to focus on something else, but the rumbling in her stomach made concentrating nearly impossible. And then she heard something she had not heard all the previous day—the sound of animals and people coming down the road. She had a vague sense that she wasn’t safe, and she hid herself deeper in the thin stretch of vegetation lining the stream. Her heart sank when the caravan stopped very near her.

From her vantage point she could see that they appeared to be merchants of some kind, and for all their noise there were not very many of them. All men. She thought it was strange they would be traveling this direction on this day. They had obviously not been in Middoni for the sacrifice day. She wondered what they could be selling that would have kept them from the celebration; there would have been lots of money to be made. She sucked in her breath when they began to establish camp. It looked as though they intended to stay even though it was not that late in the day. She hoped she would not have to keep herself hidden until dark; she had not chosen a very comfortable spot. Two of the men in the group carried large animal skins to the stream very near her hideaway.

Abish fought to keep still as she felt a cramp in her leg. She rubbed it slowly and carefully with her hand, praying for strength not to make any noise while they filled their flasks. The men spoke and Abish heard much of what passed, though she only recognized some of the words. The Lamanites were a loosely connected people without much in the way of a common language—there had been many smaller, conquered people over the generations and their languages sometimes became lost and sometimes incorporated into the standard speech. These men by dress and language hardly appeared to be Lamanites at all. Except for one time, she had never seen such pale skin. Unlike Lamanite men who were always bare headed and usually shaved clean, these men wore headdresses of some kind—like yards of cloth wrapped around and around. They were also wearing robes and long sleeves. They seemed terribly overdressed for the heat of this day. Maybe they were Nephites.

She remembered many years ago, when she was a very little girl, her brother and his two friends often played a violent war game. They took turns playing different parts and some of them would overdress and put coverings over their heads. Even though she was a very small child then, she remembered the game because one day her father came home and saw them playing. He was angry. She remembered few of the details but only that her father had said, “The Amalekites and Amulonites are murderous traitors. They are lower even than slaves or the Nephites they descended from.” He forbade her brother from this type of play in the future. He had ignored the admonition, and not long after he shaved his head, ran away and join the Lamanite soldiers in their many conquests. He had contacted the family later to tell them of his whereabouts, saying that he had done well for himself accumulating both power and wealth. Armac had said very little about this news, indeed he had seemed unhappy about it. His reticence had been a sharp contrast to her mother’s joy.

This memory whirled through her head as she tried to hold very still despite the increasing numbness in her legs. She let the ghost of a sigh escape as she realized the problems between her parents had probably been a long time coming. She shifted slowly and slightly, never taking her eyes from the merchants in the stream. One of the men glanced up from his task and looked around casually; suddenly his expression changed.

He locked eyes with Abish and his face was no longer casual. He began speaking in a language she better understood, although his accent was very heavy. “Come out, girl, there is no use hiding now that we have seen you.”

She knew he was right, but she remained still and listened to the warning in her heart. The man’s tone was nice, but she didn’t at all like the way he looked at her. “No one will hurt you.” He continued in his coaxing tone, but she did not believe him.

He stood to his full height and leaped the stream easily, motioning for his companion to follow him. He did, but shook his head and seemed to be arguing with the first man. Without thinking, Abish bolted. In moments she was out of the cover of the trees and into the prairie, wishing the grass was just a little taller so that it would hide her better. Despite her sudden dash, she was slower than she expected to be. Her feet were asleep from holding still so long and they didn’t move easily over the uneven ground. After a short dash she stumbled and then was roughly dragged to her feet. The man held her from behind and she bent low, biting his arm fiercely as she kicked away from him. The bite startled him. He dropped her and cried out in pain.

She ran well this time, her feet working properly again. Then, her hair was grabbed from behind and pulled forcefully; she tumbled to the ground and was again picked up. It was the second man who had her now. As she fought against him, he slapped her hard on the face and she was immediately still from the shock and the pain of it. She looked into his menacing eyes as he shouted something to companion. When his companion approached her, he sneered at her and spat on the ground. Another round of arguments broke out between the two men, the one holding her shaking her arm and pointing at her. The first finally shrugged, which seemed to end the argument. He grabbed her other arm and they dragged her back to their group, picking up their water flasks on the way.

More discussion took place when they joined the others. Finally, the one who had first seen her in the trees spoke to her, “Why do you travel alone?”

“I’m not,” Abish fibbed.

He laughed loudly. “There is no one around for many miles. And the nearest town is Middoni—at least a day’s walk from this stream and crossroad. You have either run away or gotten lost.”

There was nothing she could say to contradict this truth so she stayed silent until he shook her arm, “My mother. . . .” She faltered. “I am going to meet my mother.”

“In Middoni?”

“No, I am coming from Middoni.”

He seemed to regard her closely. “You are very young, why are you not with your mother?”

“I can take care of myself.”

He laughed again and pulled her roughly toward him, “You cannot know how dangerous it is on this road alone. There are bad men out here.” Again he leered at her, but at a protest from one of his companions he shoved her away. “But my companions tell me that you are too young and ugly to bring me any pleasure, so instead we will not harm you but take you to the land of Ishmael. There is a great slave auction that takes place in Lamoni’s City every year at this time. You are strong as a young llama; you should fetch a decent price.”

She felt the blood drain from her face and she knew that the terror was evident in her eyes, but she couldn’t fight it. She was going to be sold into slavery. As he saw this realization come over her face, his rough laughter fell around her again. He pulled her roughly to her feet and tied her behind their wagon. Suddenly Abish knew why his eyes looked so frightening to her. They were blue. She’d never seen a person with blue eyes before.