Masters Of The Arches Ch 08

One morning Nika went to hunt for fresh meat like she often did. But by mid-afternoon she hadn't returned.

Even though Vincent was worried, he knew that lately she had had to walk farther than usual to find meat. Her constant hunting had already killed much of the small game around their camp. But when dusk arrived and she was not back, he really became worried. There was nothing to do now but to wait and hope that she was not hurt and had found a safe place to spend the night.

As soon as it was light enough the following morning, he took a few provisions and his rifle and he set out after her. His leg was almost completely healed by now and he was angry with himself for not having gone with her the previous day.

Walking was still a little painful but it was the lack of exercise in his leg that was causing most of the pain now, and of course he didn't let that stop him.

He followed the small stream in the direction she always took when she went hunting. She always went the same way since most of the game she killed were small animals that usually went to drink from the clear water of the stream.

He walked upstream for a couple of hours until he found himself in a small clearing. There was a single large tree in its center so he stopped there to rest a little and also to eat. He was getting ready to leave fifteen minutes later when he heard voices not far from where he was. It then occurred to him that he had made a mistake in choosing this place to rest and eat. There was nowhere for him to run now except to hide where he was.

The sound of the voices got louder and it became evident to him that whoever was coming his way was going to pass very close to him. He had no choice but to remain still and wait since running away would definitely attract attention.

A few minutes later, half a dozen men, completely naked with fluffy feathers tied to their manhood and with animal's figures painted all over their chest, appeared in the small clearing.

They hadn't seen him yet as they walked toward the lone tree straight toward him.

Then the one ahead, probably the leader, saw him and he froze in his track. Without saying a word, he began to shout to his companions while pointing in Vincent's direction.

What followed next happened so fast that Vincent could only remembered it vaguely afterward.

They all rushed on him before he had time to greet them or ask a question. He knew that he could easily have killed half of them before the rest got to him but he had no way to predict if they were friendly or not and by the time he was aware of their intentions it was already too late.

One of them hit him on the head with the wooden end of his spear and while he was half-unconscious, they bound his hands behind his back and tied a fibrous rope around his neck.

To reanimate him, they simply threw him in the cold water of the creek nearby and they took fun in watching him trying to keep his head out of the water. Once they were tired of this fun, the leader pulled him out of the water by mean of the rope around his neck and they began to investigate his belonging.

When Vincent tried to talk to them, he was hit in the face. It became painfully evident that these people didn't want him to address them in any way.

They seemed very interested in his rifle, but when they removed his knife from around his waist, all of their interest switched to the knife and they became still more agitated.

The leader and two others began to talk very fast in a language that was very similar to that of Nika. Vincent could understand quite a bit what they were saying. It seemed to him that they were debating what to do with him. The leader, the one with the most intricate drawing on his chest, wanted him kill immediately.

Finally, they were able to reach an arrangement. The leader of the small group was going to keep the knife and they would not reveal its existence to Haski who seemed to be their chief. But Vincent and all the rest of his things were going to be brought back to their village and given to Haski.

As soon as this was settled, they began to walk back the way they had come with Vincent walking in the middle of the file while the warrior immediately behind him holding the rope tied around his neck.

They were walking very fast and the fact that his hands were bounded behind his back put extra strain on his healing leg and soon he was experiencing much pain. He fell to the ground a couple of times, but each time they would kick him in the side and force him back on his feet by mean of the rope.

While he was walking to their village, he had a chance to observe them.

Their skin was darker, at least that part that which was not covered with paint. It was more of a pale brown color than it was black and their bodies were slim and tall. Their faces were handsome enough but they had so much paint on it that it was difficult to judge. As for their hair, they all had a single shoulder length tress of dark black hair tied at the back with a short leather rope and decorated with a few feathers. They seemed to take great care of their hair and every time that mud or dust would get into it, they would immediately wipe it off very carefully.

After a couple of hours of fast walking, they stopped to rest and they ate fruits that they had been carrying in a bag made of animal skin.

They rested for only a short while and they soon resumed their fast walking back to their village. It was almost dark when they arrived there. Judging by the number of huts that could be seen, Vincent figured that there must have been five to six hundred people living there.

The place seemed to be clean enough and there was a definite order in the way the huts were arranged in concentric circles around a number of larger dwellings in the middle of the village.

There were many cooking fires burning everywhere and the smell of food cooking reminded Vincent how hungry he was. They tied him to one of several posts not far from the center of the village. Then without any further concern for him, they went to a central fire where half a dozen females, who must have been waiting for them, served them food.

For the rest of the evening and for the whole night, Vincent remained tied to the post and not once did they come to give him food or water. In the morning, he could hardly feel his arms since the tight rope prevented much of the blood from circulating and it was only because of the constant moving of his wrists behind his back that both of his arms were not completely paralyzed.

As soon as the sun was up, a woman accompanied by two guards came to feed him. He was then brought to a hole near the edge of the village where he was allowed to relieve himself. Once again, he was taken to the same post and tied up.

The guards went away but the woman remained near a fire close by and she got busy cooking a stew in a big clay caldron. She had been kind to him when she had feed him and she had even smiled at him once, so Vincent make up his mind to try to engage into a conversation with her.

"Are you the wife of a man from the village?"

When she heard him speaking to her, she stopped what she had been doing and she came closer to the post but not near enough to attract attention. She began to pick up pieces of wood from a pile near Vincent.

"Be quiet." She whispered in an evidently nervous tone of voice. "Slaves must not talk to each other, if you are caught you will be beaten."

In a much lower voice, Vincent then added.

"So you are a slave also here, are there many other slaves?"

He was not expecting an answer but she did answer his question.

"Yes, as many as there are huts. Sometimes ago there were many more, but they did kill many of us who tried to escape."

"Tell me, is there a woman here by the name of Nika?"

"Yes she is here, they brought her here two days ago."

Upon hearing that Nika was still alive, Vincent's heart began to beat faster. He wanted to know more about her condition. But the woman moved away closer to the fire with the armful of wood. Two warriors were now approaching them.

They didn't say a word and they untied Vincent's hands and they pulled him by the neck rope. He was thus forced to follow them as they crossed toward the center of the village where he had seen the half dozen large dwellings the previous day.

As he walked with the two guards, he was able to distinguish the slaves from the citizens of the village.

The slaves were not permitted to wear any kind of ornament and their bodies were not painted. Whereas the females of the village - those that were not slave - were painted with intricate designs while the men had animals painted over their body. But all of them had either feather or decoration in their long hair.

Except for the feathers that the warriors wore, everyone in the village was completely naked. Even the women went around as naked as the day they were born.

Then something suddenly struck Vincent attention. He noticed that there were no old people in the village and only a few children could be seen. But on the other hand everyone looked healthy and in the prime of life.

The men would have been considered handsome if they had been on his world. And as for the women, slaves or citizens of the village, they were all stunningly pretty. They were rather tall and slim with dark black shoulder length hair that was tied at the back, much like the hair of the men, and all of the women had splendid breasts that bounced about as they moved around.

They walked between huts and mud houses. Then Vincent was a witness to a strange sight when they came upon a scene where he saw men having sex with women here and there. He even saw one male actually leave one woman and immediately go down on another who was waiting her turn. Of course, both women were slaves and Vincent tried not to think about what could have happened to Nika during the two days she had been in this village.

He was brought in front of a high wall made of long poles placed close to one another and tied together with ropes. The wall completely enclosed a very large house made of similar poles with the roof much like all the others roof of the village, which consisted of large leaves set one over another on a rack of sticks.

Most of the people of the village had been following them and this made him nervous since they were probably expecting a show of some kind. A show with him as the main participant.

When a man with many feathers sticking out of his hair and with many decorations painted all over his body, came walking out of the central dwelling, Vincent was forced to get on his knees. His right leg was still painful and he cried with pain as he fell on his knees. He was slapped on the mouth immediately by one of the guards standing next to him.

It was quite evident that the man that had just come out of the large house was the chief. Cruelty could be read all over his face and he smiled as soon as he realized that Vincent was in pain. His body was covered with beautiful drawings of animals and he had a long tress of feather hanging from his head.

He began to slowly walk toward Vincent with a cruel smile on his lips. In his hand, he was holding Vincent's rifle. Pointing to it with one hand as he held it in the other, he addressed himself to Vincent in a low-pitched voice.

"Where did you get this?"

Vincent was not certain if he would be permitted to answer. Would he be slapped again if he did? He decided to take a chance and he answered the chief.

"It is a magic instrument. I use it to keep away the bad spirits."

This seemed to satisfy the chief who then added.

"Where did a low worm such as you get that stick of magic?"

" It was given to me by a spirit, the man that will be responsible for my death will be haunted by this spirit until he kills himself."

It was a long shot but Vincent knew that his chances of staying alive were very slim if he didn't play on these people's superstitions. The chief, whose name he had previously learned from the warriors who had captured him the previous day, was Haski, seemed to think about this for a few seconds. He then added.

"Prove to me that it can do magic or I will kill you myself here."

"I must hold it in my hand to let the magic out of it."

He could see Haski debating in his mind as to whether he should let Vincent take the magic stick or not. Of course Vincent knew by then that the chief knew nothing of the deadly power of the rifle, otherwise he would have used it himself to kill him.

Finally, Haski, the chief, extended his arm and he presented the rifle to Vincent. Vincent had no intention of shooting his way out of the village. For one thing, he wouldn't have succeeded, even though he could have killed the chief and a few warriors. His main aim was to get Nika out of this place. No, he just wanted to scare the chief enough so that he would not kill him immediately.

Once the rifle was in his hands, he pulled the bolt in one swift motion thus feeding a cartridge into the chamber. He did this in such a way that the chief and the guards near him heard the noise but didn't see exactly what he had done.

The metallic noise was new to them and it did surprise all of those that heard it. Even the large crowd outside the wall of poles that was watching through the wide opened gates had heard it. There was a low mumbling into the crowd and many hands were now pointing at him.

Victor looked toward the crowd. Then among them he saw the warrior that had been at the head of the small group that had captured him. It was the same one that had insisted on killing him instead of bringing him alive in the village.

He was standing just outside the wall and watching everything. He had been cruel to Vincent; he had even refused to give him water or food on the way back. It was that same man also that had kicked him the most often whenever he fell to the ground.

"This magic stick has the power to tell me if there is a liar among your people. If I point it at a liar it will make a loud noise and thus indicate who he is."

Now Haski seemed very interested, he even took a step closer toward Vincent the better to see.

Adjusting the scope of the rifle for the fifty-yard distance to the leader of the group of six that had captured him, he aimed at the single feather in his hair. When he saw that the bullet would not hit anyone standing behind him, he pulled the trigger.

Before the loud noise had died down, the feather as well as half of the braid of hair where it had been tied, felt to the ground.

The crowd, Haski, as well as his guards reacted instantly with shouts of surprise and fear. Some people in the crown nearby actually ran away.

"The magic stick has spoken, it has pointed to a liar among your warriors. To know who he is, all you have to do is to seek the one with the missing feather."

Of course, everyone had seen what had happen and there was no doubt in anyone's mind as to which one among them the magic stick had indicated. But still the chief slowly walked into the crowd and he pretended to inspect the men there.

Then he came in front of 'broken feather'; he was still holding part of his braid and the feather in his hand. Of course, it was a great dishonor that he had suffered and only the instant killing of the offender would satisfy him now.

But before he could react, Haski told two of his guards to seize him and he was brought inside the fence to stand in front of Vincent.

"Yes he is the one." Said Vincent.

"What lie has he told?"

The warrior looked at Vincent with much hatred written all over his face, but he didn't say a word.

"It is not what he said that makes him a liar but what he did not say."

"Then tell me what he did not say which make him a liar."

"He did not tell his chief that when I was captured he took from me a magic knife and he still has it hidden."

The warrior's eyes began to show fear and his body started to shake when the chief looked at him. He then threw himself at Haski's feet and he began to talk very fast begging for his forgiveness and promising to give back the knife, which was now in his hut.

But Haski gave a signal to one of his guards and a spear was thrown through the warrior's chest killing him on the spot.

Haski quickly removed the rifle from Vincent's hands and without saying another word he turned around and left. Vincent was then taken to a small hut where he was given food and water by a couple of slave women.

As soon as he was finished eating, the same two guards who had been waiting in front of the hut took him to the field and he was made to work with other slaves. There were a few men in the group but by far there were many more women than men working there. All of them were busy tiling the soil with pointed sticks; it was hard work especially under the hot sun.

Vincent spent that night and many other nights that followed into the male slaves quarters. It consisted of a fence of circular poles very similar to the one around the chief's place, and inside of which was a low roof which stood on many poles stuck into the ground. It was simple but adequate since the weather was very warm and the roof kept them dry on rainy nights. There were eight other males sleeping there with him.

Their food was mostly fruits and some of the tasty white roots that they were cultivating in the fields. It seemed that the villagers were very found of these roots. Once boiled, Vincent had to admit that they indeed had a pleasant taste. Once in a while, they were given some half-rotten meat but Vincent always threw it away. It was very evident to him that the resident of the village considered meat a luxury and they fed the slaves only that part of the meat which they themselves didn't want to eat.

He did try to get information about Nika, but nobody seemed to know where she was. But on the tenth day after his arrival there, while he was picking roots in the field, he saw the same woman that he had met when he had been tied to the post on the day of his arrival in the village.

He recognized her the instant he saw her. She was very beautiful and her naked breasts seemed very firm and inviting to the touch. She began to work next to him in the field and it became clear to him that she wanted to tell him something. At last, when they were close enough while working, she whispered to him.

"I know where the woman Nika is?"

"Tell me then, where is she? Is she well? Please tell me."

He stopped working as soon as she began whispering to him; he looked straight at her. Then he noticed one of the guards looking in their direction and he quickly resumed working. Without lifting his head, he asked the slave woman to tell him more about Nika.

"She is here in the village. Haski has made her one of his women."

Vincent felt his anger and rage rising and on that instant he made up his mind that he was going to kill Haski before leaving this place.

"Tell me when I can see her?"

"Not now, it is impossible, but in two days there will be the ceremony of manhood in the village, then you will be able to talk to her."

"How is it that you know where she is while nobody else seemed to know her whereabouts?"

He didn't think that the woman was lying but it did seemed strange that she should be the only one to know. She didn't answer immediately since one of the guards was walking slowly toward them. Had he noticed that they were talking? Vincent didn't care for himself since he felt relatively sure that he could kill him and run away, but he didn't want to leave without Nika.

At last, the guard walked toward the end of the field where he emptied his bladder without the least concern as to whether he was being observed or not.

"My name is Verla," said the woman. "I know about her because I have to supply the chief's house with all the water they use. Every morning I make many trips to the river and I have to fill all the pots with water. Sometimes he is not around and it gives me a chance to talk to her."