Historical Setting: An unknown time in a cold land
I watch from this distance hiding in the brush as the marauders rescue their chain and lay it limp and lifeless back in the sled. Now Mara is dragged to the sled. How can it be that it was Mara that called out to tell them I had escaped? We were both in the same situation and yet she took their side by shouting to them rather than choosing to come along with me into freedom. I watch as they throw her unto the sled like a rag doll with no regard for her as a human being. They heap the logs I stacked by their fire ring onto her legs keeping her pinned in the sled. Then they spread the coals around to extinguish the fire before they follow my tracks to the creek. They almost seem relieved that I eluded them and they don’t really search for me.
I can see all this so easily from this place so near them where I huddle under my deer skin nearly in plain sight as this skin once hid a deer.
Why is it, thrall and captor so easily accept their roles, when neither is free? The woman — weak and weary, a widow now, maybe always was “owned” by a man in the Merovingian style of family – I can, in a way, understand her fears of the freedom I offered.
But what of the captors? Surely, they must have noticed I brought them wood and stirred their night fire while they slept this morning. And yet, they didn’t want to find me. They seemed satisfied just collecting up the chain I had freed.
So now, I am following the sled tracks again as they push their way northward edging the woodlands and following the sea. All along the way they gather up more logs and wood and throw it into the sled. Sometimes sticks are thrown right onto Mara. This careless treatment of her surely must be leaving her bruised and suffering all the more.
What I learn of them, besides their curse words, is that they value the gifts of the forest, the wood for shelter and the logs for fire and warmth. Also, they perceive a man as a threat to be feared and a woman as a necessary possession. What hungers haunt this land that make the thrall and the fallen logs more useful than living trees and a helpful companion?
Dear God, let me keep my vision clear. Amen.
(Continues Tuesday, December 17, 2024)
Lazarus Ink 