I wake up to find that my hands have been tied behind my back. I've been moved so that I'm in the middle of a much smaller tent, tied around the central pole that keeps the tent up. I take a moment to look around and find that there are others sleeping around the perimeter of the tent. I can't see Hope or Faith anywhere. Panic crushes my chest as thoughts race through my head, each more horrible than the last, imagining where they could be.
I force myself to breathe deeply and confront the thoughts. I will do everything I can to keep them from happening. And if they have already happened there will be a price to pay. I shift my focus to tugging on the ropes, but I only succeed at cutting my wrists. I can feel warm blood seep onto my palms and run down my fingers in hot, sticky droplets. I momentarily consider trying to slip my hands through, but decide against it. All I would accomplish is tearing off my skin.
It's then that I remember the knife. I draw my attention to the weight of my dress, desperately searching for the familiar weight of it in its sheath. For a moment, I can't believe it. It's there, resting up against my leg. The idiots didn't find it.
It's not very bright; the sun hasn't started its long climb to the top of the sky. But I can tell that the moon is sliding down towards the horizon. The ambient light is growing brighter. The seconds are slipping through my hands too fast, because I can't think about how to use the knife. But I have to. It's the only way.
I shake my head and try to think more clearly. First, I have to get it out of its sheath. I glance around and find that the others are still sleeping. I steeple my legs with the flats of my feet on the ground. I try to maneuver my waist to get it to fall out. It takes some doing, but eventually I see the dull sheen of the metal in the early morning light. It's laying in my lap now. Now what?
I slide so that the knife drops to the ground. I try to reach it with my arms, but its just inches from my reach. I scoot a little bit, rotating around the central pillar and seize up as the sound seems as loud as an avalanche. But no one moves. It's too close for comfort. I press my weight into my feet and walk them underneath my torso. My legs burn as I use tiny steps to maneuver myself so that my hands can reach the knife. When I think that I'm close enough, I flop down on the ground, unable to support my weight any longer. The post tips a little and the tent creaks. I hear movement and I freeze. When the sound doesn't continue, I reach for the knife and find the blade in the sand. I use my fingers first to grasp it and then pull it up, trying to maneuver it underneath my ropes. I look around, hoping no one is awake yet. I see no one.
The ropes snap and I can turn around and grab the knife. The weight of the simple wood handle floods me with calm as I slice off the remaining cuff. Without waiting a second longer, I rush outside with only the faintest whisper of the tent flaps to mark my passing.
I'm standing in a campsite pitched in a small oasis. A small pond of lapis water sits still in the sand, surrounded by grasses and bushes. Four trees stand at the corners of the pond. The one that I saw last night is bent over double and is beginning to splinter around the bend. The moon is beginning to fall and the sky beginning to brighten. Around the tent I just exited, smaller tents speckle the ground. They must have camped through the storm, otherwise they would be moving right now.
I rush to the nearest tent and peak inside. There are people sleeping, but not anyone I am looking for. I continue, going from tent to tent until I find Hope in much the same position I was. I wipe my bloody hands on the canvas before I sneak into the tent. When I reach Hope's side, I kneel down, place my hand over her mouth, and prod her awake. Her eyes flash open, but before she can scream I whisper, "Don't. Stay calm. We're getting out of here."
She nods and I cut the ropes. I take her by the hand and lead her outside
"What happened?" She whispers as soon as we leave the tent.
"I think whoever we were camping with decided to take us prisoner while we were asleep."
"Where's Faith?"
"I'm going to go look for her."
"Let me help."
I smile. It might be dark, but her terrors are far away for now.
"Okay, you go look at those tents;"—I point to the ones directly in front of us—"I'll look in these ones." I point to a group to the side. We split and I poke my head into each of the tents I assigned myself. At first I'm calm, riding off the sense of accomplishment from freeing Hope, but soon that feeling slips away, leaving me with panic. I find my steps getting faster and faster until finally I'm running between the tents. There aren't that many left; what if she isn't in one of them?
"Charity!" Hope hisses as she grabs my arm.
"What?"
"I found her."
I let her lead me to the tent in question. I don't stop when she does at the tent flap. Faith is sitting in the center of the tent, tied just as Hope was. After waking her and cutting her bonds, we're back outside. The moon has set behind the sand, and the sun is now rising.
"Come on; we have to go." I hiss.
"But we have to find Tress." Hope replies.
"How? We've already searched most of the tents."
"Not all of them."
I glance up as sunlight begins to spill over the horizon.
"There isn't much time, and I don't want you getting apart from me. Keep close; we'll look."
We rush from tent to tent, gingerly lifting the tent flap for only a second before moving on. We search the rest of the tents and I turn back to look at the sun hovering just above the horizon. A cylindrical tent stands beneath the sun.
"We haven't checked that one."
We dash through the campsite, trying to be quiet. We reach the tent and, sure enough, Tress is inside. She's been trussed up like some sort of animal; many ropes cascade up and down her body.
I look around at the others and they're still asleep. I run forward and tap Tress on the shoulder. I whisper into her big ear, "We're getting out. Don't make a sound."
"They have the staff and the rod." She whispers back as I start cutting the ropes. Each one is thick and takes some effort to cut; it takes a few minutes before she can move again. She crawls to her feet and I whisper, "Where are they?"
"I don't know. Whoever bound me took them."
"We don't have anymore time to walk around the campsite. Come one."
"We can't leave without it."
"Why not?" I hiss.
"They're too valuable." She replies as we come out of the tent and reunite with Faith and Hope. I take a few more steps and when they don't follow I turn and ask, "What're you going? We have to go now!"
"You aren't going anywhere, pretty."
The sound of the gravelly voice stops me in my tracks. I turn slowly to find a rajika standing outside a nearby tent. He's shirtless, bleary-eyed, and laden with a bundle of clothes in one hand. His horns are straight and curl into the sky, casting long shadows onto the ground. I spread my arms out and try to encircle my sisters.
"You aren't going to stop us."
His eyes widen and I allow myself a private victory.
Then he replies, "How're you going to do that, little girl?"
The knife is in my hands. I'm holding it by the blade, ready to fling it. He whistles and ducks, throwing his arms up to shield himself from my attack. I stand frozen as more men begin to stream out of the tents, all in a similar state of disarray. But all are now carrying swords.
We group closer together as the rajika swarm around us. When one gets a little too close, I lash out with my knife and he drops his sword. As he slinks away howling, Tress snatches up the sword and stands at my back. The men form a circle around us, bristling with the wicked silver swords. One bearded rajika, the largest of the group, steps forward.
"You will not escape. Surrender now and we may offer you mercy."
A rumble courses through the group that sends fire running through my veins.
"I don't think so." Before they can laugh any more I continue, "I bet I can beat any one of your men. I'll wager our escape on it. If I beat one of your men, we get to go free."
"The ruamul." Tress whispers over her shoulder.
"And you will return the Zho's items to her." I add.
There's silence following my words. I wonder if they'll take the deal or if they'll just kill us where we stand. When I'm ready to hurl the knife just to end the silence, the chief guffaws and the rest follow like dumb animals.
"Why should we consider your request?"
"If you're so sure that you are going to win, why not humor me and prove just how good you are?"
"And risk loosing four very valuable prisoners? Not to mention two extremely interesting objects they were carrying? Not likely." He peers at me for a moment and then continues, "If you beat one of my men, you win your freedom."
"I will not leave without them," My reply is without hesitation, "I'll fight every one of your men if I have to to keep them safe."
Once again everyone is staring at me. The hot sand beneath my feet begins to burn through Faith's shoes, but I force myself to stand my ground.
"You are unlike any other I have seen." The chief comments, "I will let you fight. But if you wish to earn the freedom of what you have requested, you must beat one of my men for each."
"Six battles for six freedoms." I reply.
There's a voice in the back of my head, whispering that I can't do it, that I should just give up and let him do to us what he will. I clamp down on that voice and silence it. I will not give up. I will fight as hard as I can to free us. I'd rather die than be a slave again.
"I will fight."
He grins and barks for someone. The circle shifts as the man who came out of the tent and found us comes into the circle. "You will be the first to duel." He instructs.
One of the rajika nearby hands him a sword and he walks into the circle.
I point at his sword with the hilt of my knife, "No using that."
"Why not? You have the knife." The chief asks.
"How much of a difference is it going to make to your highly-trained men? Don't think they can take down a girl with a knife?"
They take the bait. The rajika tosses the sword into the sand as his comrades start to prod him into action. I turn back to Faith and Hope and Tress.
"Stand back and don't look. It will be okay."
"Charity, I'm scared." Faith says.
"I know. I am too."
"Then why are you doing this?"
"I don't want to be scared of him. So I'm going to show myself and everyone else that I'm not."
With that, Tress drags the girls back a few steps, allowing me to take center stage. The man stretches a little to the cries of the spectators. He has the build of a warrior, and pride to match those of the guards in Nakhot. I glance at the knife in my hand. I won't aim to maim or kill; they would become angry and attack me all at once. I know that I couldn't' handle that.
A few of the rajika goad their first champion, "Don't let her get away."
"Don't be shown up by-"
I stop listening. I'm going to beat him. It doesn't matter what they say. We will get away.