Hauntingly Beautiful Girls

"A Goddesses' Hand (Part 9)"

The mood had been tense for two days after the news. I got many hugs and soft unintelligible words from the mother and other girls.

I was taken over and assisted in washing again. They worked on my hair and gave me new clothes.

The mother led out of the room (which filled me in fear).

When she took me into a room, the nice guy was there. He looked sad and distracted, but there was some kind of discussion with us standing side-by-side. There was soft talking and then most of the room clapped and moved closer.

He held my hands and slipped a hand in behind the face veil.

Then I was escorted by a team of six men with large strange blades on heavy poles.

They took me outside. It was confusing, and I feared again. Was I going to be killed?

The armed men stopped. A man who looked like that man on the camel (the one I killed) came up and half circled me. Seeming to look closely at my hands and face.

Of course, everyone here is a bit shorter and less 'sunned' in color (but still about my skin tone).

The armed men lead me into a tent (a tent that was not there when I arrived days ago).

There was a man with grayish hair on a pillow and very dark woman flat to the ground next to him.

I am given a pillow. The sounds confuse me at first.

The dark woman speaks in my language. Her face has small burn marks. Small and in a symmetric pattern. Something done long ago. She also has an arm burn mark that is used for owned servants.

The words take me a while to follow. They are not her native language.

The questions go long a very long time. The man asks in their unintelligible language, the woman asks me, I answer, she speaks back to him.

I tell them everything.

I am a simple girl that lives with her mother.

I saved a young boy by throwing a stone.

A goddess of great beauty (very tall and glowing) was just outside our hut.

I was suddenly far away.

A man gave me some clothes and his sword to hold (as the sand storm buffeted).

Other armed men came. The kind man stuck the sword into the sand.

When he was struck by the arrow, I was very mad. Vile solders broke the rules of war and killed my father when I was young.

I fought desperate but lucky. When I threw the spear, it was exasperation more than anything.

The mood of the armed men so changed, returned the sword to where the kind man had placed it.

The other questions seemed odd.

Was I making a land border claim in defeating that border team?

What compensation had I expected since I took none of the fallen's weapons?

The woman understood my answer better (I think) than the man. I only wanted to make sure the man did not die.

The last words before going back to the Mother and Kind Man were "None of the three of us will decide. It is time to report your answers to others that do decide."

When back into the house, just the man and I enter a room with many pillows.

He hugs me close and firm (even with his wounded shoulder).

His trembles make me draw him so is head can rest on my lap.

It is easy to tell. My fate is not yet secure, and it is out of our hands.

Tonight, we are together. Like that first day in the tent.