The Purlieu Experiment
Chapter 7
Copyright 2015 & 2021
Akira watched the Nyumbani escort retreat down the mountain. They had left her with the half-naked young man who had interrupted her execution. At the time, she had not known who he was, but knowing now still gave her no clue as to why he had saved her life. The executioner had lifted her to her feet and they had watched as this man had been led away. Dark hair had covered his entire scalp at that point. She had seen them carry the body of Farasi away and concluded that the young man had killed him.
Not being able to converse with the Nyumbani, she hadn't known whether her execution was being postponed or canceled. She had only known that her treatment after that had been completely different. Instead of being tied up in a dark room, she had been taken to a room with windows, permitted to bathe and given food. She had slept on a soft clean bed that night and had been fed again this morning. When they came to get her today, she had been certain it was to execute her, but they had led her to a room where six people sat behind a table. She had been placed beside the young man and waited as they were given what appeared to be instructions. She had not known who he was at the time, but the instant she looked into his eyes, there had been no doubt in her mind about his identity. It was unlikely that he knew who she was, though. They had never met and there were no legends surrounding her name. She looked like any other woman from Lochfowk.
At one point the young man had approached the table to examine what looked like a map. They continued to address him for a while and finally took both of them outside, where they were surrounded by a group of armed men and taken to the mountains. She had no idea why, but it appeared they were being banished together. What did the Nyumbani think they had in common? It made no sense that they would release her...unless they feared retribution. Lochfowk colony had done nothing when the Nyumbani raiders had conducted raids on other colonies. It never occurred to them that the Nyumbani would be bold enough to raid Lochfowk. She had been visiting the village of Bree on the southeastern side of Lochfowk territory when the Nyumbani raiders had attacked. She had fought beside the Lochfowk men, but they had been killed. She fought the Nyumbani raiders, but there were too many. They tied her hands behind her back and forced her to go with them.
They had traveled for days, crossing the salt flats of Anialwch and the mountains before they arrived at the Nyumbani colony. They had not molested her during the trip, but the night they arrived, she had been repeatedly raped. Yesterday morning she had actually considered the execution a way to escape. She had never known their raids to result in captives, but the presence of the young man suggested otherwise.
Keeping track of colony leadership was something Lochfowk had been doing for over one hundred years. Quade, the President of Libertad was one they had known for over a half-century. Libertad had elected him over seventy-five years ago. In Libertad colony, there was no term. As long as the colonists felt he was doing a satisfactory job, he stayed in office. The people of Libertad were complacent. He hadn't even fallen out of favor when he exchanged vows with the Princess of Bergen. In fact, their son was even more popular than he was. And here he was, living with the Nyumbani. Apparently, they had no compulsion about mixing with other colonies. Where did they get the nerve to talk about the Lochfowk women? They did, though - as did all the other male dominated colonies. Maybe they were afraid their women would start getting ideas about equal treatment. Libertad and Bergen were the two most progressive. Unless she was mistaken, the man at her side was Donte, otherwise known as the Prince of Bergen. He wasn't a prince. No one on Purlieu was really a prince, or a king. They had been appointed the position by a group of scientists playing God. Those scientists were gone now, but these men were still playing the roles.
The young man turned and began walking up the mountain. He expected her to follow him. He might as well know now that she wasn't going to be his servant. If it had been one-on-one, she would have been able to fight off her captors. She was on equal ground with this young man, though. She was as capable of leading him over the mountain as he was of leading her.
He stopped and glanced back. "Are you coming?" His deep voice gave the Lochfowk language a gentle sound.
For a moment she felt too stunned to respond. She had heard him speak to the Nyumbani in their language and, of course, he would be able to speak the language of Bergen and Libertad. How many languages did he speak? She finally found her tongue.
"Where did you learn to speak our language?"
He watched her for a moment. "The information is available to anyone interested enough to learn."
She walked past him, ignoring his implication. "This way," she said. "If you go that way, there is a big drop-off."
She expected an argument, but he simply followed her. After a while, she stopped to rest and discovered he was lagging behind. He picked rocks off the ground a few times and tossed them back, only to grab another. Finally, he must have found what he was looking for, because he stopped searching and caught up with her. She gave him a sour look.
"If we're going to get off this mountain in the next week, you'll have to stop playing with pretty rocks."
His eyes reflected humor and for a moment she thought he would smile, but he simply walked past her. She ran a few steps to catch up with him. As she fell into step beside him, she glanced at the stones in his hands.
"What are those for?"
He held up a piece of black rock and a gray one, explaining their use to make a fire. She could have told him she had fire starter in her pouch, but she was interested to see if he could actually start a fire with that method. She didn't have to feign interest. He might not have enough clothing to make the trip, but he had enough going on upstairs to make up for it. He had some other stones that he intended to use to make a knife and a spear head. That sounded like a lot of work - and time they didn't have, but if they needed it, they could always use the knife in her pouch. That was the problem with male dominated societies. They always figured the woman didn't have the ability to do anything.
As they traveled, he gathered other objects, always explaining their intended use. He gathered vines to use in attaching the spearhead to a straight stick he had picked up. Frankly, she hadn't thought of a need for a spear, but it might come in handy. He explained how he would make a snare out of the vine as well. She shrugged. "I hope we won't be stopped in one place long enough to use a snare."
He didn't say anything more about it. He stripped thin bark from fallen trees, using the sharp edge of a stone. He was slowing them down with his frequent stops, and adding weight to his load. He didn’t ask her to carry anything, though, so she couldn’t complain about that. If he couldn’t keep up, she would have to leave him behind.
They traveled in silence for a while until he finally surprised her by asking her for information.
"We need to find someplace to hole up for the night. Do you recall seeing a likely place?"
She nodded. "Yes, there was an overhang that looked like it might have a cave at the back." She glanced around. "I don't think it's far from here."
"Let's gather some wood." He gave her a self-conscious smile. "I'm freezing."
If he was freezing now, what was it going to be like tomorrow when they hit the snow line?
They found the cave before dark and she set up stones for a fire pit while he gathered more wood. He had found some dry bark and a little grass that he used to start the fire. She watched as he struggled to get sparks into it, feeling more guilty all the time, but not sure how to bring up the subject of the items in her pouch - or if she should. Eventually he got a live spark and blew on it until he had a flame. He had obviously done that before.
"Keep feeding that flame," he said. "I've got to make these snares.
At that point she was feeling too guilty to protest his request. It was a waste of time to make snares, but if it made him feel better.… She watched him build the snares and finally take them outside. In a few minutes he returned.
His next project was the knife. He knelt on the ground and used a stone to chip a sharp edge on another stone. With that complete, he stepped outside the cave again. She could hear scraping and wondered what he was cutting, but it was getting warmer by the fire and she wasn't that curious. After a while he returned, holding a long piece of rawhide.
"I noticed the only article of clothing they gave me was longer than necessary, so I folded it in half when I put it on." He sat in front of the fire.
He used the knife to cut the rawhide in half and then to punch holes in the two pieces. Next, he threaded some of the vine through the holes. He finally lay the hides aside and knelt by the fire, adding more wood.
"There won't be enough to last all night, but we can get some rest while it's warm in here."
She could stand the suspense no longer. "What are the two pieces of hide for?"
He tossed another piece of wood on the fire and glanced up at her. "Shoes. I'll need them when we cross the snow tomorrow."
Next, he took the bark and pulled it into narrow strips. He braided the strips at the top so that they hung in layers. He worked fast; his fingers obviously familiar with the project. The completed project appeared to be some kind of cloak.
Finally, he brushed rocks away from a spot beside the fire and lay down, turning his back to the fire. "You'd better get some rest. Tomorrow will be a difficult day."
She eyed his feet and decided he could have used the shoes today. His feet were cut and bruised, but he had never complained once. She brushed the rocks from an area across the fire from him and lay down to sleep.
Before dawn she woke to find the fire gone. There was no more wood and the air was cold. She glanced at Donte, who was now facing the fire. She stood and walked behind him. He glanced up at her as she knelt beside him. Without a word, she snuggled against his back. He was tense for a few minutes, but finally relaxed. After a while his breathing changed. He was asleep. He would need the rest and the warmth if he was going to survive the trip across the snow-covered pass.
When she woke in the morning, he was gone. She cursed under her breath and checked to make sure she still had her pouch. Why hadn't she anticipated that he would leave her? It didn't matter. She knew the way. In fact, she would probably pass him on the trail - if he didn't get lost.
Noise at the entrance of the cave startled her, but to her relief, she discovered it was Donte. He hadn't left her at all. In fact, he carried breakfast by the tail in one hand and an armload of wood on the other side. He dropped the wood by the fire pit and held the animal up for her to examine. "I think the time it takes to clean and cook it will be worth the energy we get from it."
"How did you…?" She began, and then shrugged. "Don't answer that." She dug a knife out of her pouch and tossed it to him. "Here, you skin and clean it while I get the fire going."
He opened his mouth as if to speak, but then closed it and shrugged. He grabbed the knife as she pulled the fire starter from the pouch.
She shrugged again. "We don't have time to mess with your way of building a fire this morning."
For a second, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he finally smiled and left with the knife.
When he returned, she had the fire going. He gave her a wry smile.
"I don't suppose you have a skillet in that pouch."
She grinned. "No, but I know how to make a spit."
Together they built a spit from sticks. She cut a point on one end of a long stick and skewered the animal with it. With a warm fire going and meat over it, they sat back to watch the food cook.
He glanced at her across the fire. "I'm fairly sure I would have perished without you."
She smiled. "I am fairly sure you would have figured it out. I am also fairly sure I would not be alive today if it were not for you."
He was quiet a moment, watching the fire. Finally, his gaze lifted to hers. "Thank you for last night."
All this gratitude made her feel uncomfortable. She wrinkled her nose at him. "I'm glad there wasn't anyone around to hear that comment. They might get the wrong idea."
For a moment he looked startled. He watched her for a moment before shifting his attention to the food. "That smells good. I haven't had anything to eat since yesterday morning. I was a little concerned about climbing the mountain in this condition."
His treatment had apparently not been as good as hers. "What is this?"
"It’s a hydrochoerus. It's a member of the rodent family - quite tasty, actually."
She eyed the cooking meat. "Perhaps rats are too. I've never been desperate enough to eat one."
"You're fortunate." He said.
She glanced up at his face. "You have been hungry a lot?"
He shook his head. "Not until I came here. The Nyumbani people are poor farmers."
She made a face. "Maybe they are poor because they spend too much time raiding everyone else."
He was silent for a long time, watching the flames. Finally, his gaze lifted from the fire and found hers. "I'm sorry about what happened to you."
She shrugged. "It’s over now." She hesitated, not knowing if her next question would offend him. He was watching her, as if expecting a question. "How long have you been a captive?"
His gaze went back to the fire and he was quiet so long that she decided he wasn't going to answer.
"Six years," he finally said as he scooted back and leaned against the rock wall of the cave. His gaze became distant. "I came willingly, though. They picked me up at the dock in Playa, Libertad. They treated me well enough. The people are warm and friendly, always willing to share what little they have."
"You couldn't prove it by me," she said.
His gaze focused on her face. "That was Farasi's doing."
"Farasi didn't rape me. It was colonists - those warm friendly people always willing to share - as long as what they are sharing doesn’t belong to them."
"The men who captured you weren’t colonists. They were Farasi’s raiders. He ordered them to do it."
She laughed without humor. "They enjoyed it. You weren't there. I was." He looked uncomfortable, so she changed her tone. "Why would Farasi order it done?"
"To humiliate you. He hated the Lochfowk women."
Akira frowned. "Why?"
He shrugged. "He was insane. Nothing he did made much sense to me."
She had no trouble believing Farasi was insane, but that wasn't why she had been raped. It irked her that he was defending these horrid people. "And yet, you came here willingly - and you stayed. You were not a captive. You were a cohort." She stood and spoke with a rancor that even surprised herself. "You must have made your father proud."
He looked up at her, his expression unreadable. His attention returned to the meat. "I suppose this is cooked enough to eat. We can eat it while we travel. If we leave now, perhaps we can get over the pass today."
He tied the hides to his feet and stood, putting the make-shift cloak around his shoulders. Then he lifted the meat from the fire. Kicking dirt over the fire, he grabbed his spear and headed for the mouth of the cave.
She followed him, annoyed by his failure to respond to her needling. As the meat cooled, he handed her portions. He was right. It did taste good, though a little sweet.
She led the way up the mountain and he followed. He said nothing for hours. The air became thinner and colder, but his step never faltered. Once, when she stopped to rest, he urged her on.
"We can't stop now. We'll freeze."
She glanced up at him, a nearly naked form in the icy landscape. "You can use my underskirt around your shoulders."
He shook his head. "No. I'll make it."
She shrugged. It was difficult to understand why a man would rather freeze than face the humiliation of wearing something feminine, but there was nothing she could do about it.
The snow became deeper until it reached their knees. Finally, they found the place where the equines had broken a trail through the snow. Traveling was much easier and faster after that. They reached the top of the pass and started back down the other side as the sun was sinking on the horizon.
Donte was the one who spotted the cave that time. It was small and hidden by some brush. He indicated the brush. "Can you cut some of that with your knife? My fingers are too numb."
She pulled the knife from her pouch and cut some branches. She had been keeping her hands under her arms, but she had clothes on. All he had was that porous bark cloak. He must be suffering, but he still wasn't complaining.
They had to walk into the cave bent over, but that tight space would heat up faster. The cave was shallow, with a sandy floor. Akira broke the limb into little pieces and piled them on the floor. She found some dry leaves at the back of the cave and placed them on the twigs. Dusting yellow powder over it, she pointed the flint gun at it and pulled the trigger once, sending a shower of sparks into the pile. The powder immediately burst into flames that spread through the leaves. She glanced up at Donte to see what his reaction was and found him shivering. His lips were turning blue.
She gasped. "Why didn't you say something?"
His smile was weak. "What good would it have done?"
We could have looked for a place and stopped earlier. I don't know how you survived this far.
"Genetics," he said. "Genes from my grandfather. It's something called rete mirabile - a vein/artery network similar to that of aves. The Mascots of Bergen were genetically altered that way. I thought this cloak would work like feathers, holding heat against my body. I suppose it did help."
The cave was already beginning to warm when she snuggled close to him. He put his arms around her and they sat, leaning against the warming wall of the cave. For a while they watched the flames. She glanced up at him.
"Your grandfather is the king of Bergen. Were you born in the mountains?"
He was quiet a moment. "My grandfather is Pieter. He is the ruler of the mountain colony, not the king."
She leaned back on his arm and looked up into his face. "But you are called the Prince of Bergen."
He gazed down at her for a moment. "How did you know that?"
She met his gaze. "The information is available to anyone interested enough to learn."
His eyes expressed humor and his lips turned up at the corners, but he said nothing.
She shrugged. "In Lochfowk, we try to keep track of all the colony leaders."
"Then you must know my grandmother was the Queen of Bosvrouwen."
His voice held no arrogance. He was merely stating a fact, explaining why they called him a prince when his grandfather was not a king.
"Your grandmother gave up her position as Queen of Bosvrouwen to take your grandfather as a mate. Their daughter exchanged vows with your father, the president of Libertad. Your mother was Anica and she was a princess. Wouldn’t that make you a prince?"
It was his turn to shrug. "It's all theoretical. What do they call you?"
She studied his face a moment while she decided how much she wanted to reveal. "It is nice, knowing who you are, and you not having a clue who I am."
He lifted a brow. "Then I will simply call you The Lochfowk Woman."
She frowned. "My name is Akira, not woman."
He leaned his head back and spoke softly. "Akira. I like that name."
She sighed and leaned against him. The warmth of his body relaxed hers, and she finally slept.
Soft Science Fiction
