The Angkhora Warriors

Part 1: DINDA

Mother.

Dinda ran down the alley, she didn't want to see who was chasing her. Or how many. She turned and hid behind an old mud wall, knowing they weren't far behind. She dared not peek, keeping still and catching her breath as she made herself as small as possible in the shadows. Hearing footsteps approaching, she took a quick breath and, thrusting herself from the wall, she continued running, like a scared little mouse running from big fat cats. Big fat cats that wielded huge butcher knives. She risked being captured every time she stopped to pick up the dumplings that dropped onto the rain-soaked ground. The bao dumplings she had stolen from the market. But there was no way she would go home empty handed.

I must get back to Mother.

The alley led to the other side of the marketplace. Being a small girl in the rain, she knew she could weave through the crowd of people without anybody noticing. The market was bustling with activity as customers haggled with stall owners, buying goods in preparation for the big Naga Festival. Meat, fruits, joss-sticks, paper lanterns, firecrackers, and bao dumplings.

"Thief! Thief!"

"Stop her!"

They barely noticed the small-bodied teenager with black lips scurrying by with her arms full of stolen dumplings. It was only when her pursuers yelled out for someone to stop the thief that people started shooting sharp glances in her direction. But the noise, the crowd, the narrowness of the walkway between stalls prevented anyone from intervening. To avoid further unwanted attention, she slipped into another dark alley. By the time the angry men followed her into the labyrinth, she had disappeared into the shadows.

After a few turns and a secret escape route, Dinda managed to lose her pursuers. She stood quietly for a moment in the shadows, catching her breath once again, waiting to hear footsteps coming around the corner. But they never did. She was finally safe to go home.

Dinda's dwelling was a small hut that looked like one strong gust of wind could blow it down. It looked abandoned and sat on the outskirts of the valley. Despite its meagerness, Dinda was happy to return to the humble structure. When she entered the hut, it was quiet, except for the firewood crackling in the fireplace. She unloaded the dumplings next to the fireplace, placing the soggy ones nearer the fire.

"Mom?"

She turned her attention to the frail body lying on the bed, her face turned to the wall. She was so thin and frail that Dinda could see her spine poking out from the bottom of her neck all the way down to her tailbone. The sickly sight of her mother always brought sadness to her eyes.

"Mom?" Dinda repeated softly, not sure if she'd get a response.

But the frail figure turned slowly to face her daughter. The woman continued to fight to live despite looking worse and worse every day. Dinda had been horrified when she'd come home one day and her mother wouldn't turn around when she called her name. When she finally did, she'd stare at Dinda with blank eyes.

"Wait, Mom." Dinda grabbed a small cup of water sitting on the table. She didn't know how long the water had been sitting there but it didn't matter. She rushed over to her mother and sat beside her on the bed. She carefully helped her sit up and sip from the small cup. "Slowly Mom, drink slowly." Water dripped out from the side of her mother's darkened mouth. She imagined her mother smiling, her features lovely and full and pink with health. But when she blinked, her mother stared back at her blankly as though she was invisible.

Mom, do you still recognize me?

Her mother began to cough uncontrollably and Dinda tapped her back gently. "Easy. Take it easy." Eventually the coughing subsided, and Dinda cradled the back of her mother's head and lowered her back until she was comfortably resting on the pillow. "Get some rest, Mom."