Poor Girls

The Village

Right then everything about Lyra's appearance struck fear into my heart. Just the sound of her broken voice and the wild look in her hazel eyes warned me away from the place. But had I not journeyed to this village with Grandmother frequently before? What was to stop me from doing so now? I minded my business and they minded theirs. No one had ever harmed or threatened me in any way as long as I continued to do just so. She quickly backed away from me then, tears now streaked her face and I couldn't help but feel my heart sink. There was no convincing her now.

"Lyra, it is but a nightmare from the past. No one there will harm you now." 

She looked at me as if I had just bitten her arm off. "No, no, you don't understand, Zahara. He is still alive, I'm sure of it. And-and people will recognize me," her voice broke off, weak and desolate, and I cringed to hear it.

I needed her with me. How else was I to pull this cart the rest of the way?

"Everyone knew then?"

She stared down at the ground, concentrating on one particularly grassy spot, while I tossed my braid over my shoulder and put the sack down for a moment's respite.

"They all thought me the wife's handmaiden." 

"How did you escape?" I considered her curiously after a moment.

"I didn't. He let me go." There was a pause and I could see my own breath melt into the wind as I waited for her to continue.

"We were in the marketplace together one afternoon, by then I was desperate and willing to attempt anything, no matter how futile the effort," she paused and studied the tops of the trees now before her eyes alighted on me once more. "So I lost myself behind a crowd of people as soon as his attention was focused elsewhere. It was not a difficult task. But he saw and made no move to stop me." She paused, obviously bothered, "He even smiled, as if it had been all of his doing, my escaping."

"He let you go?" I echoed skeptically. She met my eyes, her hazel ones were shining with tears.

"I thought it was a false trick at first. But then I just ran and ran...and when I was convinced no one was chasing me..."

Why would he let her go? That didn't make sense at all. Was it from shame? Guilt? Or some sick game or cruel scheme to make her pay double the consequences later?

I hesitated, glancing between her pathetic shivering form and the looming manors atop of the vast hill before us. "Perhaps you should stay here. Hidden. I will go on alone," I told her curtly, as if it made no difference.

It didn't look as if she wanted to protest but she stepped forward anyway. "You cannot go by yourself..." That speech definitely lacked conviction, and I waved her off easily.

"I've come here hundreds of times with Grandmother. This will be no different. I can take care of myself." 

"But-but- any girl over twelve..." 

I cut in with some exasperation, "Yes, yes, I know. I will be careful to remain completely discreet."  I briefly picked through the items on the cart, tucking the valuable ones safely in the sack, in case the cart tipped over on the way. Then I hoisted the pack back over my shoulder and lifted the cart's handle, tugging it out of the rut it was buried in.

"If I have not returned within two hours, find your way back to Grandmother's house. It is not wise to be found in these particular woods alone in the black of night." A dark shadow passed across the ground even as I spoke this and I glanced up at the trees in speculation. Nonsense, they never came out this early, I thought reassuringly to myself. Lyra just nodded, her face surprisingly calm and serene, and I left her alone to fend for herself.