No Hands but My Own

Chapter 14 - Evasion

Balancing carefully on one of the swaying branches, I crouched, fighting sleep while the green walls of my little hollow danced on the edge of my vision. The tree was on the border of the forest by the trail that lead to the invaders' camp -- the same pale, dusty, snaking trail that we had journeyed on when we had been captured.

The trail could be considered a road now with all the foot traffic it had been experiencing lately; so many carts had pased this way that deep ruts had formed in the soft earth. Wind snuck in between the needles of my shelter and playfully bobbed the ties to my outfit. Its whispering breaths were lulling my tired eyes shut.

Just as I was finally succumbing to exhaustion despite my cramped and uncomfortable position hidden among the tree tops, I heard the approaching groan of a heavy vehicle. Adrenaline shot through my system and I jolted bolt upright. My attention became focused at the slim and flitting gap between the branches that gave me a view onto the road below.

The creaking and groaning drew louder and I gripped the branch I was perched upon more tightly, forcing myself awake by digging the coarse bark into the palms of my hands.

Finally, the silvery cart drew into view. It was not drawn by the creatures that the invaders had brought to our land, but rather by two Chunmus. Clearly, the Micraconid had given into their new overlord's demands. I could feel my face twitch in irritation beneath the heavy mask covering my features. I could see the Chunmus hinds lathered in the sun and spittle frothed from their mouths -- they were not used to such heavy loads.

I jeered at the cart leader who was bent double, pulling the rebellious Chunmus' heads forward. I recognized him as one of the Harpagornias boys who had been with me in the cart. His skin had a faint sheen that glistened over his straining back; it was a insufferably hot day, after all.

There was a silver-handed man sitting on the cart, making sure that not a moment of rest could be gained by the boy nor the beasts.

It was slow going and I was pleased -- I might have just enough time.  Gathering some moss off of one the branches around me, I jabbed the crinkly film onto the arrowhead. Holding the arrow between my knees, I fished out my emergency pebbles from my pouch and struck them against one other. The sudden burst of heat they produced was enough to set the moss aflame. Knowing my window of opportunity was disappearing with their every step, I drew my bowstring  and  aimed for the harness holding the Chunmus captive. With a quick prayer, I let loose.

My arrow flew true and it set the aged leather linking the Chunmus to the cart aflame. There was an instant of calm before panic erupted.  The Chunmus were rearing and panicking, limbs flying every which way. The Harpagornias boy was wavering between quenching the flames and calming the Chunmus -- uncertain as to what to do in this emergency. The silver handed man looked confused, as if he couldn't understand what was going on. Perhaps he wondered if the summer sun itself was so unforgiving that it set the leather aflame. 

With a hidden smirk, I descended the tree as fast as I could. Creeping along the roadside like a wild animal, I watched the panicked motions of the transport cart. When I was beyond their periphery, I ran to the back of the cart and peered in at the contents between the shining slats.

How lovely. I thought to myself. They were so kind as to bring me goods on a silver platter.

Contorting my hands between the slats, I pulled out one of the burlap sacks stacked around the cart's edge. Peeking into the bag furtively, I grinned at what I saw.

Well, well. Someone's starting to lose their temper.

Inside the bag was a malleable package covered in straw and wrapped with a red ribbon; it was the traditional way that the Eastern woods packed their chymical products. The red ribbon warned the handler of the explosive nature of the goods. I was somewhat amazed that they had produced so many explosives -- it is a long process after all -- and positively flabbergasted at how the invading King thought a metallic cart full of explosives  in the hottest summer in years was a good way of moving his precious goods.

I suppose I should teach him a lesson. Perhaps he'll be less stupid next time. But I doubt it.

I grabbed quickly freed bag after bag until I was sure I could carry no more. I ran to the woods furtively, conscious that the silver-handed man and the Chumnu leader were scanning the landscape for the cause of the problematic arrow. The boy spotted my dark form against the bright woods and began to yell. Tossing the bags up a tree beyond the road side, I returned to the trail. 

The Harpagornias froze when he saw me face-on. I looked like a denizen of hell. Strips of black leather pulled and tugged my robes into an inhuman form. The mask that shielded my face from view had similar features to a Ljus abami. Only, of course, I was much larger. I couldn't help but grin at his shocked reaction -- I had a feeling that if I waved at the boy, he would positively squeal in fright.

The silver-handed one appeared momentarily bewildered at my appearance. He hesitated and did not raise his silvery limb immediately. I took his momentary confusion as opportunity to slide off my bow, nock another arrow, and fire. Before either men had time to react, I was already racing back to the tree where I had sheltered my prize.

The explosion threw me forward, pushing me harshly into the pine's bark. The sound rendered me deaf -- all I could hear was ringing in my ears. Pieces of metal raced through the air as if they weighed nothing at all. Pushing through my disorientation, I pulled myself up a few branches to survey the damage. Other than the persistent roar in my ears, I was unharmed; the trail where the cart had been, on the other hand, was not.

Slabs of silver jutted from the earth and tree trunks like unruly teeth and soot formed a near-perfect circle around the explosion site. The Chunmus and the two men lay on the ground, metal decorating their limbs like dew. My expression grew hard. These men were bystanders in this fight and though I felt guilt, I woudn't let it take reign.

They killed your family.

Doing nothing while someone murders is akin to murder itself.  

A moment more and you would have died.

I shimmied down the tree gingerly and set off back to camp weighed down with my precious booty, refusing to glance back at the destruction I left behind.