POW Part 1

Prisoner of War

Symbol of Light

The Barbarians arrive back at camp with their pillages and several of the young women.

Catori walks among them. The girl on her left couldn’t be older than 14.

“Hone in on an escape route if you can,” Catori tells her, “Only submit if it will open up a chance to survive.”

Before she has a chance to assess much of the situation the men start to grasp at the women. One grabs her arm and leans in on her.

“Ew gross,” she shows her disgust as she tries reaching for the knife in her boot.

“This one…!” exclaims one of the Barbarians, “I have a some unfinished business with. Sorry boys, but I gotta do her in myself.”

He throws her over his shoulder and carries her into his tent. Setting her on the bed, being it the only thing there to sit on, he takes the knife from her boot. Placing it on a wooden bench he faces her,

“The chain you wear. Tell me about it,” he demands. She takes a moment to orientate herself.

“This? My grandmother gave it to me.”

“You have to tell me more than that if you want me to let you live.”

“No offense, but you don’t strike me as the honest type,” she realizes she may die just for saying this.

“What do you know of that symbol?”

“Why should I tell you anything?” She stands up to level with him. With one arm he forces her to sit back down.

“If you cooperate with me I will let you stay here where I will be the only one able to touch you.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then you better hope your fantasies are as dark as what they will do to you. Because as soon as you leave this tent you’re fair game.”

“And what about when you are done with me? Then what?”

“You stay in here for as long as we are stationed. No one comes in here without my say so. If anyone does you have my permission to kill him. Then when we leave, I release you safely.”

She takes a moment to weigh the possibilities of survival then her instinct tells her to talk.

“My grandmother was a medicine woman. It was rumored that she could heal people using just her hands. She would wear this, symbol of light. ”

“And you? Do you heal people?”

“My methods are different.”

“What are your methods?”

“Herbs and prayers,” it’s a lie, but why would she trust him with the full truth.

“And where do you suppose your grandmother would have gotten this symbol of light?”

“No idea.”

He lifts it off from around her neck.

“You may go.”

“But… you said…”

“You haven’t given me anything worth protecting you for.”

She swallows the knot in her throat.

“Is there something more you’re not telling me?”

If only she could just peak out the tent and find a direction to run… but she felt frozen. She could hear screams from the other women and the drunken shouting and laughter of the men. Was she actually more safe to take this one up on his offer?

“It’s legend that there is a realm of light to which few may cross to and from. Another dimension where the bodies of beings are made purely of light. The pendant is said to have been forged by one of those beings and therefore infused with it’s power and assisting any healing method.”

“Good,” he nods satisfied. She might be useful after all, “Now undress.”

… to be continued