Pawn

Chapter 2: Into the Forest

Quickly I stuck my head out of the shrubbery where Luke and I were hiding. It was difficult to see anything clearly through the hazy smoke. A large black blob materialized from the smoky mass. Upon closer inspection I realized that it was our kindly neighbor Martin. Martin was a short, stocky man who was always smiling. He ran the village bakery and often would give Luke little sweet buns with a whispered "Don't you tell yer Ma that I ruined yer appetite." Just as I was about to call out, I saw that there were more inky masses chasing him.

I gasped as I made out the shape of enemy soldiers in the dark masses. One had an arm, longer than what I thought was possible. The arm reached out and made an arc towards Martin. A second later, as Martin's now lifeless form hit the ground, I realized that the 'arm' was actually a sword. I gasped, grateful that Luke had not been witness to this horrid event. Poor Martin, brought down like he was nought but livestock. I had a sudden urge to throw up, but with some difficulty I was able to resist. Stay strong, I thought. Luke is depending on you.

The group of enemy soldiers surrounded Martin's body, kicking him and laughing. Never have I loathed anybody as much as I did those men. Martin had a wife and a babe to care for. Now the only thing Martin will feed is the worms, I thought darkly.

After a few more minutes of their sadistic merriment, the soldiers moved on. Without thought, I ran to Martin. Seeing his lifeless body was almost too much. Also, it served as another reminder as to why I needed to get Luke and I away from here. I could see the black form of the tree-filled forest ahead. There was nobody nearby, a perfect opportunity for me to make my escape. Just as I was turning back to retrieve Luke and my pack from the bushes, Martin gasped.

"Martin!" I cried softly as I scrambled down to kneel beside him.

"Em-, Emery," He coughed, and blood dribbled down his lips "Where's," a ragged breath, "Where's your m-, mother?,"

"Where did they cut you?" I asked searching until, horrified, I saw where. They sliced open his abdomen. Any hope of saving Martin vanished. Nobody could survive a wound like that.

With each breath he took, Martin's breathing became more shallow. He tried to speak but all that came out were gurgles. I watched, numbly, unable to say or do anything that would help. Just as Martin's life slipped away, I heard him mumble, "My pocket."

Hurriedly I checked the pocket of Martin's tunic, not unaware of the fact I was a sheep surrounded by wolves in the open. Mys fingers grazed an envelope. Pulling it out, I tried to read the words scrawled on the front, but it was impossible in the smoky haze.

"Emy?" a dazed voice called out," Emy, where are you?"

"Ssh Luke!" I tried to warn him, but it was too late.

"Come 'er little boy," a man appeared next to Luke and had taken hold of his arm, "You will sell pretty at the slave trade," The man grinned.

"Luke!" I cried running towards him and the man. Luke, it seemed however, didn't need rescuing. He did what any cornered, frightened toddler would do: he bit the man's arm and latched on like a leech.

The man yelled and tried to jerk his arm free. The man must have been quite scrawny, for he couldn't lift Luke off the ground. Using his free hand, the man dug around in his pockets. Knowing what was going to transpire, I frantically retrieved a rather large rock from the ground and lunged at the man. I swung down and the rock connected with the back of the man's skull. He crumpled in on himself and lay slumped on the ground.

I ran to Luke and threw my arms around him, "Emy!" he sobbed into my shoulder, "I want to go home."

Sighing, I ruffled Luke's hair, "Not right now Luke, but later we can."

"You promise?" Luke asked, sniffling.

"I promise," I replied, knowing fully well that this wasn't a promise I could uphold. I felt bad lying to him, but false hope was all that I really could offer. "Just follow me and be quiet." Luke watched me for a moment, then nodded. I quickly retrieved our pack from the bush. I decided the best approach at escape would be to dart from alley to alley. A sprint through the village with Luke would not suffice.

A few shadows materialized so I quickly pulled Luke and myself up against the wall. As they got closer I realized it was a few horses. I was tempted to reach out and grab the reigns of a horse as they galloped by, but thought better of it, using a horse would be far too noticeable. As soon as the horses passed I slung my pack over my shoulder and hurried Luke to a nearby empty alley, hoping the horses would be noisy and distracting enough to allow Luke and I to move unnoticed. Thankfully, we made it to the alley without being discovered. I prayed our luck would hold.

****

For the next hour, I approximated, Luke and I carefully picked our way through empty alleyways. Our village isn't very large, but we had to take caution to not be seen, which slowed us down considerably. I couldn't believe my luck when we finally reached the edge of the forest, for the most part unscathed. Now I had another difficult choice. Where to find shelter for the night? I ran my fingers through my hair thinking. I could search for a sheltered clearing by the stream. I dismissed the thought immediately, there was a often used path not to far and I couldn't risk Luke and I being discovered. What would Celia or Mother have done? It was then that I realized what I truly lost. I wouldn't ever sit down to Mother's delicious dinners. Sit patiently while Celia worked wonders to my typically unruly and difficult hair. No more sweet cakes from the bakery. Poor Martin...

"The note" I gasped, remembering what Martin wanted me to have. Quickly I scanned around, thankful that Luke and I were alone. I wasn't sure whether that was entirely a fortunate thing. I then started to reach for the note until, frustrated, I realized that I wouldn't be able to see well enough to read it. The only light provided was the eery glow from our burning village, and starting a fire at this second would be synonymous to suicide.

"I don't like this game!" Luke buried his face in my tunic, "I want to go home, Emy."

"Not yet Luke," I told him, "Not yet." I wrapped my arms tightly around my dirt-streaked brother, thankful we were still alive and not at the mercy of some drunken, enemy soldiers. However, we weren't in the clear yet, there was still the matter of shelter.

I squinted in the darkness, trying to find any familiar landmarks. We entered south of the village, which meant there should be a game trail somewhere nearby. Most of the game trails led away from the main path, which bustled with human activity, making it an ideal route. After a few heartbeats, I located the hoof-trodden path, only identifiable by it's lack of dense foliage. I gripped Luke's hand tightly, and carefully picked my way through the scarcely illuminated forest.