The low-born {Book 2}

Chapter 6

Not Edited

Horses neigh as strong desert wind wrecks havoc in it's path, little Abal sits still in her makeshift tent as she listens to the other travellers run hastily around her. The woods tied to her body restricted her movement as she waits for the chaos to come to an end.

At only seven summers old, she was making the odious trip with the other villagers as they travel with their herds of sheep and cows disguised as nomads. The only item of clothing on her was the small fabric that cover her lower half and her glorious dark mane that fell on her chest.

Bandits and thieves had come to their village days earlier making demands that failure to comply with results to eviction and carnage. The bandits had demanded ten young virgins of child bearing age, twenty pieces of gold and silver.

Their incredulous request meant the villagers had to leave their once peaceful and quiet village that borders Hindustan and Persia. It was a multicultural community with few Hindus and Muslims alike. There was mutual respect for both religion.

Although the move had meant loosing several Hindu families that had decided to move towards Hindustan rather than Persia for religious reasons. As a result their numbers had dwindled down a fair amount.

Abal's grandmother Adara was a Muslim but she treated the Hindus and was willing to learn and pick up healing remedies from them. She wasn't one to discriminate and she did her best to breach the gap between the people.

No one knew Adara's true identity but the village chief who had accepted her when she stumbled into their village almost dead forty years earlier. It had taken months for her to fully recover to good health and a year to get her confident enough to interact with the other villagers.

All the villagers knew was that she might have been of noble birth, she might have been the daughter of a merchant or the slave of a noble household. Neither Adara nor the chief refuted nor accepted their claims. Her interesting past made her cautious and tolerant of everyone she encounters.

"You should go to sleep." Advises Adara as she makes her way into their tent. "We will be covering a long distance on the break of dawn." She comments once gain finally breaking Abal from her reverie.

"Yes grandmother." She replies solemnly. "Was anyone injured in the sand storm?" Abal ask as an afterthought as she lays down on her mat getting into a comfortable position.

"No, the men were able to gather the animals together safely and have all retreated for their tents." Adara replies with a smile. She was pleased Abal showed concern for a change. It was no secret to everyone that Abal was a bitter little girl with little to no regard for anyone but her grandmother Adara.

Perhaps it was knowing Adara was her only family she knew and the only family she had met as far as she could remember. "Grandmother, will I ever have a normal life?" Abal whispers silently as she closes her eyes afraid to hear Adara's response.

"It depends on what you mean by normal child. If normal is walking on two feet then yes you will someday. If normal is being able to run around with the other children then yes you will." Adara sternly replies.

It irked her terribly to watch Abal wither away in despair and self pity. Abal's intelligence far exceeded any child her age Adara had ever met. She thought it a waste as Abal allow darkness consume her further each day. Even at only seven summers old, Abal was almost as good an healer as Adara.

The little girl have had to learn even though she hadn't meant to. Due to her restricted movement, when patients are brought into their hut, Abal had picked up healing techniques from watching her grandmother cater for them.