Incognito

11

Zac groaned and opened his eyes only to find that he had been sleeping. He rubbed exhaustion fro his weary eyes and picked himself up off the ground with another moan. He had been walking for days with no sign of any other travelers, only sleeping for the night when he passed out. Training to be a knight had done nothing to prepare him for this. No wonder his family saw him as a scrub on the bottom of their boot. I should have been born a peasant, he reconciled as he trudged on.

He ate when he could handle the pain no more, drank when dehydration threatened to claim him and relieved himself only when he could walk no further. Besides that, Zac did nothing. He kept his thoughts walled and guarded lest they consume his sanity. He passed the same trees, same dirt, same dead forest every day. The days bled together. He had no idea how far Averie was nor did he care. He was a dead man walking. If any travelers passed he did not know. As his food rations grew thin and he grew weaker he prayed that God would either deliver him to his home now or kill him there. It was not a wonder that he didn't see the bandits.

Zac had taken a blessed journey, all things considered. It was warm or winter so he did not freeze; the weather was fair and fine. No wild animals had claimed him and he had not run out of water. But these men would change that. Oh, not only did they seek wealth but they were sadistic and bloodthirsty! It was not enough for them to take the last of Zac's money and paraphernalia, but they beat him. He was consciously able to land a few punches and kicks but the bandits were too much. Zac was stripped of all his clothes, and when he fell to the ground, weak and faint, they came on like a pack of rabid coyotes. They laughed as they tore at his flesh, kicked with their solid boots, and jabbed with their fists. when the black-and-blue swelling from their knuckles wasn't fulfilling, they came with no surrender with knives. Finally, they had their fun and left the duke's prodigal son with not a care to whether he was dead or alive.

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Prosper's shriek of laughter almost made Mia want to stop. Almost. But her giggle reached into the depths of her soul. They were tangled together forever.

Mia crept into their little home following the sound of the cutest laugh she had ever heard. Under the lop-sided table, the baby girl sat with her back to her young mother.  Confidence radiated out as a hiccup burbled loose. 

"Now where could Prosper be?" Mia pondered aloud. She pretended to search through the trunk while Prosper continued to giggle in delight. With an exaggerated sigh, she threw the lid closed. "I give up!" Mia yelled and her daughter rushed to hug her. She picked her up and threw her into the air with a smile. The girl smiled as she flew then landing safely in the arms of her guardian. Mia peeked outside before declaring that it was time for Prosper to retire. Diligently the little girl pulled open the heavy trunk lid and lay down inside. Mia plant a kiss atop her head after removing her tiny stockings and shoes. Then she closed the lid, picked up her knife, and left.

No one usually set up camp while it was still light out and no one ever camped outside Leeland. They always want inside. But the sun had set an hour ago and as Mia watched they showed no sign of leaving. It was like a nearby chest of jewels for penniless pirates. Mia could live for months off what she sneaked away from this caravan of travelers. They were obviously moving their whole village and did not speak the native dialect. Truly a jewel!

After a while, Mia sought out a baby Prosper's age and plundered a new coat and moccasins. A woman grabbed a potato to eat and Mia swiped ten times as many. She was inside a tent contemplating whether or not she wished to own a bow when a shout rang out and the night turned chaotic. Abandoning the weapon, Mia stole out the back way and scrambled into the woods. In the dark, she dipped behind a tree, dropped her sack, and peered out. If she saw right, a gang of men with many weapons crept among the travelers like wolves ready to kill their prey. Balling her fingers into a fist, she growled. Richard's gang of thieves. She sneered as one of the men rough-handled a young woman. Those rats! As a fat one pinned a lady against a tree and began to lift her skirts, Mia could take it no longer. Seething she quickly darted out from the dark, leaving her sack, as the other bandits of Averie plundered the camp. Mia struck the tip of her knife in the man's man's neck and turned. The cut was enough to let him know she was there. 

On her tiptoes, she crawled close to his ear and whispered, "Get lost, pompous."

"The mia," the woman gasped just as someone ripped the female thief away.

"Don't...!" The man began to shout buy as recognition dawned on him he whispered, "Angelica?"

But she gave her brother no such remorse. "I cannot believe you let your men act like this." She literally spat at him.

"I do not take virginity no matter what tales are spun by minstrels."

Mia froze when a hand touched her behind in an unpure way and hot breath spilled down her neck. "I'll take this one." The man's hand crawled around her and she poised her knife.

"They are not horses, Richard," Darcy tensed but held back.

Richard's evil hand strayed up Mia's breasts and leaned in to caress her neck with his lips. As the knife came for him, Darcy swiftly places a blow to his co-schemer's face. Once he stood over him, he snarled, "Never touch my sister, you hog!" He rammed a heel in his friend's chest and was rewarded with a grunt and convulsion.

"Your sister?! My, she grew to be a bloody-"

Darcy leaned over and slapped him. "Never lay a hand on her again." He risked a glance over his shoulder, but Mia had long ago fled.

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Zac honestly wasn't even sure what hit him.

His consciousness flitted in and out and nausea and migraines hit him in waves. Sometimes he could see shapes of trees or travelers and sometimes he could hear the birds or see people's mockery. But he couldn't remember it. His memories came and left him with little but a fizzle and a wonder if they were really dreams. Whenever he happened to be in his right mind, he would pray to his mother's LORD and Savior, pleading with him that he would change for a better man if only someone would show him some mercy and grace. He desperately needed a savior and when people passed on their travels and gave him naught but a sneer he questioned the God that promised never to leave or forsake him. Where was he now?