The Tattooed Princess: Book Two-- Escape to the West

A Gruesome Gift

Two more days Zaria walked alone toward the eastern steppes, passing carefully and quietly between forested areas and wide expanses of barren terrain. She maintained her course of skirting the river for water and protection. Her hunger was becoming acute as she had had nothing but plants and to ingest since she had left the Amazon's base camp. Also becoming more problematic were her feet. As her soft leather boots were fine for walking along grassy and sandy terrain, she now found the rockier soil and drier earth had destroyed her deer hide footwear and caused at first discomfort and later injury to the soles of her feet. She endured this stoically, stopping only at night and treating her injuries with medicinal plants she had gathered on the path.

Moving into a more densely foliated area—one of the last she could see ahead of her for a great distance, Zaria knew she would be without any supplied nourishment across the broad plains ahead of her. While entering this shady area to see what she could collect for her survival, she was shocked by what appeared before her in a small clearing. For there, scattered on the ground at what was once a temporary camp were the slaughtered bodies of seven Jin warriors. From their mortal wounds, Zaria could see it was the work of the Amazons who had found them and killed all in a surprise attack. At first she was horrified by the carnage, as their bodies had been soundly mutilated by swords and arrows. And judging from the still moist condition of the blood, she determined their demise had occurred not longer than a day before.

What Zaria took note of instantly, was what the Amazons had left behind belonging to the nomads. It was as if in their haste and hatred for them, they simply were content with the killings and had no desire to salvage what they found useful of their defeated enemies. Zaria now desperate herself for goods and food, noted that each dead warrior still wore his sturdy hand-made boots—something she was quick to take off one of the dead and put to her own use. The boots were much more substantial than what she had been wearing, with their thick leather souls and a soft interior of fur for warmth and protection. The boots were tall, as well. Reaching almost to the knee and laced securely with heavy leather bindings.

After selectively helping herself to a pair of the footwear by removing them from the body of a dead warrior, Zaria bravely perused the rest of the horrific site where violence had once reigned. It had most likely occurred in the darkness of early morning, she believed, and the victorious Amazons merely went on their way back to the camp to announce their retribution for their fallen comrades. Their mission had obviously been achieved, and they care for little else.

Other items the Daughters of the Moon had declined to salvage from the site, or simply did not notice, were several baskets of dried, salted meat, loaves of flat bread, and several bags of collected wild apples, rare to the area, and obviously brought with the militants from where they had originated. Besides these stores of food which Zaria was able to plunder and wrap into woven blanket as a carry bundle, she also collected a fire-making kit of small sticks and a clay cook pot. Two long spears were also collected for protection. These weapons of the Jin had been unbloodied in the surprise attack, with heavy bronze points like knives and the length of her hand.

When she had finished taking what she had carefully chosen, and left the gruesome scene behind her, Zaria could only consider her bounty as divine "gifts" toward her survival. Walking laden now, with the weight of supplies on her back out of the thicket, and carrying her two spears ready for use across her shoulder, she heard a slight movement in a the brush off to her left. Quickly dropping her pack and standing with one of the spears ready for any unexpected confrontation—out of the foliage came a flash of color. To her delight it was a puppy, wagging its tail and keeping its distance cautiously. The little fellow had obviously belonged to the warriors—most likely stolen in a raid, and had no doubt been through the whole horrific ordeal of the attack with them the day or night before. Zaria held out a hand to him and the little dog danced around her ebulliently, though keeping its distance. When she crouched down and laid her spear on the ground, unthreateningly, the dog came near and let her touch its head affectionately. Next came several licks to Zaria's hand as a compact of their new friendship.

Sharing a small piece of the invaluable dried meat Zaria had obtained at the sight of his former owners' camp, sealed the dog's commitment to her as travel mates. The puppy took to the trail with Zaria and kept as her silent partner the rest of the long day. Finally finding a suitable place to camp for the night, Zaria, spent her last energy using the fire-making sticks and got a small flame going. She allowed the fire to build up just enough to encircle it with small stones and create a cooking fire on which she heated water from the river in the charred pot. Into the boiling water she dropped several pieces of the dried meat to hydrate them to cook it as a soup with various soft roots she pulled from the mud at the water's edge. This impromptu stew and a piece of the flatbread served as a most anticipated and nutritious meal for the lone wanderer, who was happily not alone anymore.

Managing to kill a rabbit with her spear one afternoon and one large fish she trapped in the shallows of the river, added to the nourishment of Zaria and her new companion over the next several days. Also becoming more skilled in fire-making, sustained the two travelers through cooking as they kept to the river and boiled crawfish which Zaria discovered existed in abundance at the shallows of the water's edge.

It was on the eighth or ninth day of her trek across the plain that Zaria, from the top of a hill, could see the smoke of many cook fires in the distance. She remembered as her original escape party which had left the Pazyryk kingdom for the West, that they had encountered several small independent tribes of people who had helped them on their long journey to the Slavic villages. It was her wish now to contact these intermediary tribes once again and implore upon this former settlement to assist her in her travel back to the land of the Pazyryk. Having grown stronger and more skilled in the ways of travel and survival, Zaria was certain such a stop along the way would insure her success in joining her Slavic countrymen and beloved tattoo artist right back in the lands where she had met him.

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