I
Gwen's feet hurt, her whole body ached, and there was a monstrous rip in the hem of her travelling clothes. She grasped the edge of the rock and found a foothold, pushing farther away from home. On all sides there was nothing more than tall trees which blocked the sun. The gentle light which filtered through the treetops gave the rocky mountain a magical look. It was almost as if Gwen might wake up in her bed. She raised her head. It was time to move further on, and find out what was on the other side. She managed to climb onto the uneven rock, stopping to take a breather, and listen.
There was nothing. Not even the sound of the wind, or the chirping of a bird. No remote sounds of voices, horses or the squeaking creak of carriages. Gwen looked towards the slanting hill above. It wasn't as steep as the one she'd just conquered. There was always the possibility that she could go back down the mountain, but there wasn't any way to be certain that those awful men wouldn't be waiting for her.
She inhaled deeply and gathered her strength. In her short life, she'd seen quite a lot. She'd been orphaned at an early age, left in the care of an orphanage, went to school and survived loneliness ... but she'd never seen anyone be killed before. She'd never expected to witness anyone to die so violently. That stagecoach driver had been shot even after he'd stopped moving. The other passenger had his head blown off with a large gun.
They would have eventually killed her too ...The bandits were probably saving her for amusement later on. The nuns at the orphanage had warned her that men would want to ravish her. The bandits hadn't considered her as a threat; they were too busy breaking open the boxes strapped to the roof. She'd taken advantage of their interest in the strongbox carrying the miners' payroll to make an escape. Gwen turned and ran into the woods. She hoped they wouldn't risk following her.
They didn't follow her, but her situation hadn't improved greatly.
She took two steps forward and quickly tripped. She fell facedown against the pine needles which carpeted the ground beneath her. Her hair mattered her face, golden curls which were usually well primed were now curling wildly and adorned with a number of pine needles. Right now, she'd trade her virginity for a pair of men's boots and a blanket.
"C'mon Gwen!" she said audibly. "Let's show these people what you're made of!"
Those bastards had taken off her boots to prevent her from running. It seemed they hadn't counted on her stubbornness to survive. Ripping her dress she quickly made herself some shoes made of cloth. It wasn't much, but it was better than nothing. She took yet another deep breath before getting up and moving on.
Gwen suddenly felt a surge of energy and courage. Her will alone propelled her up the mountain. Each step rise, every foot she took, every rock she climbed, became a conquest, a triumph, a step toward a new life.
She saw smoke rising first and the view of a rooftop took her by surprise. Gwen saw a cabin and crept carefully forward. Lying down, and with her face barely off the ground, she studied the sight. It was a large log cabin, firmly built at the top of the mountain. The area around the cabin was cleared.
Would it be dangerous to ask the owner of that cabin for help? Surely they wouldn't reject a woman alone on top of the mountain. Would they greet her with violence? Would they try to rape her? Were they like the men who had robbed the stagecoach and murdered those people?
As she pondered, the door burst open. A woman wearing men's clothing stormed out of the cabin, and at the sight of her Gwen held her breath. She was huge, tall and broad, with suntanned skin, black hair pulled back in a ponytail which hung past her shoulders.
What sort of woman was she? Not the type she was accustomed to seeing, anyhow. She appeared to be utterly uncivilized, messy, and as untamed as the wild animals which certainly roamed these mountain. A savage, she thought with fear.
She walked away from the cabin, unaware of Gwen's presence, and continued walking until she vanished over the rise on the other side of the lodging. Gwen remained immobile on the ground for awhile longer. Her chances of finding help on this mountain were slim, if not impossible. Perhaps she was harmless and there was a chance of getting help. Living on this mountain didn't mean she had to be a savage ...
She crept from the woods, watching the now empty rise over which the woman had vanished. Desperate as she was for help and food, she wasn't yet so desperate that she'd chance an encounter with that woman.
The door was slightly ajar, and swung inwardly as Gwen knocked.
"Hello?" she called as her voice was a near whisper. "Is anyone here?"
The door opened onto a kitchen. "Hello?" she called a little louder this time. Her voice echoed through the silent cabin. In the centre of the warm kitchen there was a table with bread and cheese on it. There was a steaming bowl of stew cooking. The fragrance was divine, and Gwen stepped inside, shutting the door behind her. She was ravenous, and hadn't realised it until this moment, as the smell tempted her: meat, spices and potatoes. A part of her knew she was stealing but her hunger overrode her moral dilemmas.
Her stomach grumbled, and Gwen packed in eating.
II
For ten years Alex had lived alone and hated people around her. Alex liked her solitude, needed it in the way she needed air to breathe. Her father was a miner who'd come to these mountains to make his fortune. Instead he dug his own grave when the mine accidentally collapsed, killing him instantly.
Ever since then Alex pretty much stayed on the mountains. She hunted what she needed to eat, occasionally trading furs for other goods. It was a good life, but lately she'd found herself wanting.
She flung open the door, allowing it to crash into the wall and swing back shut behind her.
Alex tossed off her heavy coat and let it drop on the kitchen floor. She loved her life and her mountain just the way it was. From time to time she'd have to chase intruders from her mountain, but winter had finally arrived. With the first snow of the season there'd be no strangers to bother her until the spring.
Her stew was getting cold, and she was famished. Suddenly to her shock Alex glanced down at a tiny woman who'd been wolfing down her food. They stared first at the bowl which Gwen had been eating from and then at each other.
Alex's nostrils flared. She looked angry, so very angry. She was not angry that this girl was eating her food, but that she'd slipped passed her undetected. Stealing her food was only adding insult to injury!
"Who the fuck are you!?" She snarled viciously at Gwen.
"I – I – got robbed," Gwen said as she lifted her spoon. A droplet of saucy stew ran down the side.
"And that gives you the right to rob me?!"
"I ..." She stopped as soon as Alex glared at her.
That glare, Gwen concluded, would make the hairs of a bear stand on end, it was ferocious. Her size alone was threatening enough, full six feet tall and wide broad shoulders. Alex walked to the table and lifted the bowl, stared into it briefly, and then returned her stare to Gwen.
For some reason or another rather than shrinking away as most would've done, and it was probably what she should've done, she found herself standing her ground. She didn't survive near death and probable rape just to get bullied by a savage.
Alex fumed furiously, her eyes narrowing acidly and her lips curling together. "This is my mountain! My cabin! My food!" She seethed, balling her hands into fists as if to strike Gwen down. "Thief!"
It took Alex two quick steps to reach her. When she did, Gwen leaned backward a little, but it was enough to make her lose her balance. She toppled to the chair and broke it. She fell to the floor and landed in a very indelicate position on her bottom. She groaned as she added a sore derriere to her list of ailments.
"Ow! I'm not a thief," she protested. "I only ate the food because I was hungry ..."
Alex growled a low warning from deep in her throat and glared at Gwen, daring her to continue. Gwen looked back timidly, swallowed dryly and rose to face her accuser; she needed to crane her neck up to do that.
"I'm no thief," she repeated and placed her hands on her hips, a habit she'd acquired from watching the nuns at the orphanage. "I'll pay you back as soon as I have some money."
Alex blinked surprised and involuntarily took a step backwards. She was impressed as well as amused by her pose of defiance. She was at a loss for words by this little runt's courage. Alex had been in knife fights before and killed men who outweighed and outsized her.
"How did you get here?" She glanced out the window. "Are you alone?"
"Well ... yes!" She spoke uncertainly. "I was robbed by bandits. I ran away barefoot too, you see!" She raised her foot to show she wore no shoes. "I didn't expect them to follow me. I must admit that Sister Mary Roberts would've been very proud of me for running away like that."
