The Savage Moon

Chapter Four: Fate

The dawn was still hours away when the blackness which had enveloped Cecelia began to be fractured by odd grunting and thumping sounds. Her eyes flashed open as the events of the last twelve hours came rushing back to her.

The small clearing that they'd stopped in was awash in inky blackness. No moon lit her surroundings and her heart began to pound as she imagined what could be going on around her.

She could vaguely make out the shapes of figures battling in the darkness. She prayed it was someone, anyone from the wagon train. The grunting and thumping sound became more vigorous and were moving dangerously close to her bound position against the tree.

Two figures fell near her, wrapped around each other, fists flying. Cecelia scooted over as far as she could, plastering herself as best as she could against the group of trees to her right. Her position, bound, and wedged between several trees and battling men in the darkness prevented her from getting far enough away for her comfort.

A pained crunch and the sound of a body falling to the ground nearby jolted her back to the moment. A figure, breathing heavily no more than ten feet away, suddenly became a blur in the blackness as he lunged for her.

A squeak of fright escaped her throat as the figure grabbed her by the arms and jerked her to her feet. Finding herself flipped over shoulders and carried through the black brush was more than disconcerting. She found herself trembling, her terror mounting with every step her captor took.

She had no idea who it was who had her, but whoever it was had yet to speak to her or to meet up with anyone else, so she could only assume that her captor was the same native who had taken her from her camp the previous day. She was beginning to think that her captor had battled with the other native for her possession.

The pain of being slung over a bony shoulder was beginning to make her feel nauseous, not to mention she had no feeling left in her hands from her bonds. It seemed all the blood in her body was now in her head. The blackness above and below was no help and she began to feel as if she was pitching around on a back sea.

Suddenly, she felt her captor slow and make his way up an incline, through the thick tree cover and brush. Cecelia winced as her hair snagged in a bush and her captor kept moving. She felt them going up, grunting as he climbed, pulling himself up with the trees around him and struggling under her weight.

He slowed, eventually and she could tell they had stopped going uphill. The darkness was th8ck in the forest. However, then they entered into a darkness that was abruptly shocking to her senses. A cave?....

He carried her in, carefully making his way, the musty smell confirming her suspicion of their whereabouts. Her captor made his way deeper into the cave, slowing eventually and putting her feet to the ground.

He was breathing heavily, the journey had been no short distance and she still wasn't sure how he'd carried her all that way. He moved away from her and she stood still, unsure about what was around her. The sudden spark of his fire-making was blinding and she blocked her eyes for a moment.

The small fire lit up the cave with a warm glow and she recognized the young Indian who had taken her as the same from before, though he was badly bruised, across his jaw and under one eye.

The cave was rather deep, the entrance out of sight around a corner, and it glistened with moisture and the occasional quartzite. The fire he'd made had been carefully done and emitted little to no smoke, something she'd never seen before.

Her captor stood and she struggled against the ropes around her wrists as he came toward her. He spoke, in his native tongue, saying something firmly but being incomprehensible to her, she simply looked at him.