No Hands but My Own

Chapter 4 - Journey

From our camp, the procession of conquerors and conquered went west. Clearing a trail, a few of the light monsters lead the parade. Behind them were the pampered riders then the silver handed ones (as well as the few foot soldiers left) which surrounded our carts from all sides. A few of the light demons were at the rear, amusing themselves by grimacing and jumping at the carts in a truly terrifying manner.

It was late afternoon when we began our journey to the unknown. The glaring sun shone and its light was concentrated on the mass of bodies in the carts. The metal shone so brightly that any way we turned our eyes burned, trapping us in a cage of light and heat. Thirst plagued us all and the knowledge that the rest of the party had freedom to quench their thirst was maddening.

I think we were all just praying for night to fall and to rest. Some of the children were so exhausted that they seemed to have forgotten to fear Shira, Yishus and I. That was perhaps the only positive thing, though many of our fellow travelers still eyed us nervously and angrily.

Time seemed to crawl until, all of a sudden, I realized the light that had been blinding me had changed from piercing white to a dull yellow. I sighed; soon they would have to stop. The carts came to a stop when just a sliver of the sun remained on the horizon, etching the tree tops and approaching cliffs and plateaus in rose. But in the woods where we stopped, darkness was quickly falling.

Feeling revived as night began to envelope us, I stood and stretched. The creaking of my bones as I twisted one way then the other coupled with the strange natural expressions one makes while contorting lead to a little bout of stifled giggling on the part of the youngest children. They managed to stay silent even when Yishus joined me - and he loves to be as goofy as possible. The older children began to watch. Our stretching quickly progressed to a silent competition. I would do an action and he tried to mimic it, often with limited success.

A sudden clang brought a stop to our shenanigans. Glancing around, we saw that the noise was due to a boy who was glaring at us as if saying, "Do you want to get all us in trouble, you morons?". He did not advert his eyes when we stared at him, surprised. The bang attracted the attention of the half-masked rider.

He rode up and peered through the gaps in the metallic sheets. Surveying us all like a master would slaves, he searched each of the children in the cart for a hint of rebellion. Nearly every head turned down and away. My warriors and I met his gaze squarely.  It didn't seem to bother him that some of his prisoners didn't fear him - rather, it seemed to make him happier. He laughed at our serious gazes.

As he laughed, he tapped the metal sheets four times. The knocking amplified and reverberated in the confined walls. The metallic sheets that were our floor shook so much that it became hard to stand. Then the sheets slid away from each other and we were on the grass-covered earth.

Just as I looked up to see if escape was possible, the sheets completed their realignment and we were surrounded by towering planes of silver. Sleek and with nearly-clear walls that were molded as if from one, any sort of freedom that our newest pen offered was a marked illusion.

"Shit." I breathed.

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The fire set by the silver handed men cast strange and eerie shadows through the silvery walls. All of the children were huddling on the ground, trying to tempt sleep though their stomachs growled, unsatisfied. The tempting smell of food wafted through the sheer metallic sheets constantly reminding us them of their gnawing hunger.

My clan and I waited vigilantly, eyes scanning the night sky. I began to sing the song of the dead when the hunter constellation dragged above the tree line.