Kamela could not block the images from her mind; they rose in their full
intensity before her. The death of Shaezar, whom she had learned to
love. The brutal rape by Shar-hai and his guard. Then the murder of
her two sons, too small even to understand what was happening. A line
of horror had been crossed inside her, from which there was no
returning.
They struggled together through the snow, these two whom life had
wounded, the wolf mortally, the man to within the balance of a hair,
though he still had hope. Kalus, knowing her pain, cut the best swath
he could, and Kamela followed behind him. The wind had distributed the
snow unevenly, so that in some places movement was relatively easy, in
others, nearly impossible. The thick overcast of the sky threatened
further storm, and the white of the accumulated snow could not fully
illuminate the darkened landscape.
They traveled north where Kalus hoped, though his heart was sickened by
it, to find a frozen deer among the outlying forests. They really had
no other chance. The plains animals were gone, live deer were too
swift, and no rabbit or fox would be stirring in the extreme cold of
this day.
So he trudged northward, chilled and sweating, using strength his body
did not have to give. His stomach felt hollow and sickly; his muscles
trembled with fatigue. But he knew (or thought) the alternative was
despair, and his mind was not clear enough to perceive the danger. So
he continued.
And as he pushed on, farther and farther beyond the limits of endurance,
it was as if he passed through a veil and walked, literally, into
another world. Time and distance became confused. . .and still on his
feet he dreamed of straggling columns of men, plodding through a frozen
countryside. Ragged blue uniforms clung to their backs, to his.
Wounded and sick, with helpless eyes searching both sides of the road,
fearful of ambush. A comrade addressed him in French.....
He stumbled forward in the snow, recovered himself. The world was quiet
and deathly still. Kamela stood beside him, tense and erect, ears
raised and eyes searching. They had wandered into a recession between
wooded hills, where the snow was thick and visibility difficult. A pine
branch released its burden of white, and suddenly he felt it too. They
were being watched. He had led them into an ambush.....
A dark shape flitted between trees on the eastern slope. A low,
impatient growling was heard. Kalus drew his sword to make a stand, but
Kamela would not let him. She bolted toward the slope even as a rush of
movement erupted there. Two thin and ravening wolves, along with three
hyenas, broke from cover and began to converge upon the line she made,
straight for them.
Her motive was simple. Her own life meant nothing, and the man-child
need not die. Also, there was the chance for revenge. She ran toward
death free and unafraid.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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