Discoveries

35

For a moment I was in a state of shock.

This couldn't be.

It just couldn't.

Nobody else had been there, that dreadful night. The night I'd successfully erased from my memory.

No.

No.

No.

Please.

Don't let this be true.

How did the girl recognise me? She must've been tiny then, somewhere hidden in the bushes. There was no way she could know.

I tried to stay calm, but my hands started to shake. If anyone were to find out...

Around us the people stood still. They didn't seem to have heard what the girl'd said. Thank the Gods. They watched us though, as if we were an oddity.

"Well, I... yes."

I couldn't lie to this girl. Biting my lip, I looked at her. She nodded slowly, not all appearing to be in shock or pain. Then she offered me her hand.

"Cleo. I suppose that makes you a bad person, just like me."

#

I lay on and between the long, green-brown grass, with Cleo at my side. We watched the morning sky, Jasmin grazing somewhere close by.

"Cleo, why do you consider yourself a bad person?" I asked.

"Because I don't feel things when I hurt others. At first I didn't even know I was hurting them, until they told me. Now I know, but I like hurting them. Using them, because that's what they're for. People tell me that's bad. I don't mind being bad. I like it," Cleo answered.

Well, that was... interesting. I had no idea what to think or say.

"Shall we go?" she asked sweetly.

"Where to?"

"A place South from here, I know the way. Let me get some provisions, and be ready to go in twenty minutes."

With that she was off to the village, not once glancing back.

A shiver went through my spine. Who was this girl? Was she really like this? And if she was, did she plan on revenge?

My thoughts went to that night. The night when a woman had seen me with Moondancer, and I hadn't known what to do. You could give people money, but that was no guarantee that they wouldn't tell. One wrong word, maybe a drunken one, would have meant the end of the beautiful stallion. Without really thinking about it, I'd picked up a stone and thrown it at her. She'd fallen to the ground with a cry, before being deadly silent; the stone had hit her on the head. I had buried her far away, together with the poor woman's basket full of berries. All'd been in a daze, and it was only on the following morning that I'd realised what I had done. And it didn't even hurt. I had felt nothing at that moment; a part of me'd hardened. At only fourteen years old, I had become a murderer.

Cleo returned with two filled backpacks, the largest of which she gave to me. I put it on so it hung in front of my belly, as Cleo would be sitting behind me on Jasmin. After mounting I lifted Cleo up and she wrapped her arms around me.

#

That first day we didn't ride far, for we were to travel by night. We slept under the little tree until Jasmin woke us after dusk. All night we went south, first over the plains, then through the forest. When dawn came we ate some dried fruit and bread and then climbed into a tree to sleep in shifts.

What all of this had to do with the Niandori I did not know, but for some reason I didn't find it weird or question the fact too much.

Cleo was an interesting companion; she was mysterious yet open, always ready with a tale or a smile. It made me doubt her age. She knew so much of life, too much, really, and the fact that she didn't mind me killing her mum was worrying. I told myself not to trust her, but it was hard.

The further south we went, the more twas still spring. Cleo wouldn't tell me where we were going, so I could only guess. Maybe the [place], or as far as the mountains.

On we rode, for three weeks, all at night, when a problem arose; our supplies had been used up. With food from the land we'd stretched it this far, and now we sat eating the last dried prunes. Going into a town was very risky for me; even after all these moons there was a big chance someone would recognise me, and walking around with a hood over one's eyes did look a bit suspicious. With the added factor of my unusual clothing, I would really stand out. And Cleo refused to go, for a reason she would not say. In the end she decided it was best to steal. At first I hesitated, but what other option was there?

So it came to be that we found ourselves a nice farm with an orchard. Hardly anything was ripe yet, of course, and because of that our hopes lay on the stored goods.

We prepared everything, and set off one dark night. A lad, supposedly a guard, lay asleep in front of a medium-sized barn. Cleo had the lock open in seconds and we tiptoed in. It was absolutely nerve-racking, my hands were shaking. Inside we found a few bags of beans, peas and potatoes. In a corner I found tons of dried red- and blackcurrants. We filled our backpacks to the brim, first divided in all the little sacks in which the dried fuit'd been, then filling every little hole.

"Hey, come and have a look at this," Cleo whispered. In her hands she held a bag of spices, from somewhere far to the North.

"We can't take that," I whispered back. Spices costed a fortune; it just wasn't fair to steal them.

"Oh come on, just a handful," and she took the last little sack and filled it. "Time to go."

A dog barked and my heart went cold. Cleo looked at me, and then we silently ran to the barn's entrance. We were about to slip through the door when the lad swung it wide open.