Cursed: Traitor's Trail

Chapter 5 Part 1

The grass stood above her, dancing about like long slender puppets and then flattening against the ground, the fronds pressing down against her back. Two days had passed since her banishment, and the Monthoda's new camp lay just over the rise; she studied it wistfully.

How can they just go on with life like nothing has changed?

A strand of grass fell before her, pressed low by the growing gales.

The wind began to worry her. Demon's breath, everything began to worry her. Banishment wasn't conducive to a long and healthy life.

She shook the water skin. Glad she had it on her person before her sentence had been passed. Nearly empty. Demon shit.

Her throat cracked and her lips ached in the heat, but water was precious. If she ran out before proving herself to the clan, well, then she would never prove herself to the clan. Once night fell she might sneak between the tents and fill the skin from the Monthoda's water cistern.

But wouldn't that be stealing, now, given her banishment? Stealing wouldn't prove her point. Yet, soon she wouldn't have much choice; death wouldn't prove her point either.

Aya scrutinized the horizon. She already knew no water source existed within a day's walk, but looking made her feel better.

As she rose something fluttered in her vision, but then disappeared. Another strand of grass? She studied the spot at the top of the rise, trying to calm her own fears.

Dark silhouettes crowned the slope, riding swiftly in her direction. Much worse than grass. The way their mounts moved alarmed her. Not the scrambling and scurrying of mice ridden by clansmen, but the distinctive side to side sway of a lizard mount. Raiders. She shuddered. A demon of their own breed; the kind mothers warned their children against in the dark of the night. They often tracked the clans, waiting for weak moments to make off with women or children. No one knew what happened if they captured you, but it was a safe bet that it wasn't anything good.

Aya counted three in total descending the slope. They rode at a fast pace, their beasts scrambled across the ground as though flying above it, though the swirls of dust that rose behind them proved differently.

Suddenly Aya forgot about banishment, propriety, and proving herself.

“Raiders!” She cried running toward the tents.

Those outside doing their chores looked her direction. Some took heed of her warning and looked to the steppes behind her.Too slow, come on move!

“Aya has summoned raiders!” The cry of alarm rang through the tents, and, at last, the Monthoda whipped into action.

“No, I am warning you, I didn't...” Too late for explanations; the raiders burst past the first tents on the outskirts of the camp.

The Monthoda prepared quickly; a habit of movements much practiced. Through the frightened cries of women and children the warriors pressed forward until they formed a tight circle around their families.

Aya looked at the clan with longing. Had she really hated that circle? Of course she had never thought to be excluded from the clan altogether. The scowling faces of the men ensured she would stay excluded, now blamed for this event. She fingered the dagger, now worn openly—a lesson she had learned the night before when a few ants came calling. Ant bites hurt. And an inaccessible dagger was little use at all.

She considered the raiders, now nearly upon her. Her weak skills with the blade would be no match against men who fought and pillaged for a living, and the Monthoda offered no protection. Her only hope would be to distract the raiders, or lead them off somehow to give her people a chance. She might not survive it, but it would prove that she wasn't evil.