Escape from Cirices Part 1

Chapter 19

An old, plump woman, her grey hair tied up in a bun walked over to Sara and shook her hand. A man with a dark brown beard and shaved hair walked over to Lokeyia and did the same. A bald man, who cleared at least six foot, walked over to Magda and followed what the others did. While he was tall and huge, his blue eyes were kind and gentle. The sandy haired man walked up to Abigail and shook her hand. Abigail always expected the Wood Inhabs to have a hard, strenuous life, living in horrible conditions. But no, these people looked happier than most Ciricians. They looked clean also.

 The man pulled Abigail into a wolf drawn cart. He sat next to her while another man jumped in front to lead the cart. The ride was surprisingly smooth, the cart moved over ground like ice skates on ice. The man told her that he was Head Hunter and that nobody else apart from Head Gatherer and Head Warrior and him wanted the four girls to live. But the Head Gatherer, Head Warrior and him had good arguments against those who didn't want them alive.

"You can call me Brooke. I don't like fancy names."

Brooke went and unstrapped a silvery white wolf with gold eyes. He picked her up, as though she weighed the same as a puppy. The wolf licked his face and then set it's gold eyes upon Abigail.

"This is my wolf, Aranda. In Tarabia, everyone has a wolf or horse that they own. You can choose not to own any. Of course, I'm too poor to own a horse. Leader, his Highness has two horses. However, there are only around five in Tarabia, meaning the Heads can't afford one."

" I was offered a snowy wolf from the Dews, only I turned him down because I preferred Aranda. I'm still looking after her, though. She is still a cub. I gave her the name Tourilla. It means freedom in Old Tarabian." Brooke said.

"What about Head Cook? Did she want us alive?" Abigail asked nervously.

"Her side of the argument was a bit unclear. She didn't say much and the impression I got was that she didn't care whether you lived or died." he said drily.

"So does that mean the rest of the Tarabians will be trying to make some 'accident' for us?"

"No, no they can't. You can't kill a Tarabian citizen. It is a blood curse." he said gravely. "We've got Tara XVI singing soon at the fire. Her voice is sensational. Her proper name is Cleo, but you've got to call her Tara XVI or otherwise you'll get into heaps of trouble."

Soon, night fell and everyone went to a clearing, not far from where everyone lived. A large bonfire blazed. A young woman with sleek, black hair and blue grey eyes, stood on a makeshift stage. Several men stood on stage, drums by their sides. A wolf howled and was responded by several other howls and a single hoot. Abigail remembered her Mum's necklace and clutched it tightly. 

Lokeyia and Sara came and sat down next to her, and said that Magda couldn't sit with them as she had to stand guard. The crowd fell silent as the drums and guitar began, followed by Cleo's breathtakingly beautiful voice.

"Abraham took Isaac's hand

And led him to the lonesome hill

While his daughter hid and watched

She dare not breathe she was so still

Just as an angel cried for the slaughter

Abraham's daughter raised her voice."

"Then the angel asked what her name was

She said, I have none

Then he asked, how can it be

My father never gave me one."

It was a good song, and when Abigail finally understood the words, she realised it was quite chilling. She always imagined the Wood Inhabs to be singing nursery rhymes or having no music at all. Definitely not singing war songs.