I've begun to wonder if I'm the one whose gone mad, or if it's simply everything and everyone else around me.
It was a day or so after my return to the harigga. I decided to wander for a bit and try to find a mark of familiarity among the wagons. At some point, I found myself nearing the fires of the first wagons.
I could hear voices before I saw anyone. Women. I didn't hear the deeper sounds of any mens voices. When the small group came into sight I saw Mezoo, Asria and Yamka. I offered up the expected greeting and sat down on the steps of someone's wagons.
I'm not sure what they were bantering about when I arrived. The mundane doesn't really sinks past the fog of my own thoughts these days. Which is why I've refrained from practicing my clan and spent the majority of my time of late working in the trenches. Simple, physical labor.
What I did notice were the expressions. The body language of each woman. Asria seemed wary. Unsure if what sat near her was a man or a dangerous beast. Yamka seemed wary, but not in the same way. It was as if she expected me to unleash every bit of rage and violence bottled up inside me... on her. I can't imagine why, of course.
As I was contemplating these things something broke through that fog. Someone was speaking to me. It took just a moment for me to realize it was Asria. She asked me about the new dome on my wagon. It had been replaced while I was gone on the plains for those few days. She'd spoken with the leatherworkers and had another made and put on. Yamka also mentioned that her father had helped replace it. I thanked them and fell back into silence. At some point Yamka brought me a bowl... blackwine, I think.
While I sat there, the conversation moved on to other things. I heard and listened, but nothing really stuck with me. That is, until Mezoo was asking me to assist her in babysitting. When I looked over, indeed, she had a baby in her lap and arms. I think it was Asria's son. I stared at the child for a moment, then just shook my head as I responded to Mezoo;
"I don't think that's wise."
But she was insisting. Something about it being good for me. I continued to stare at the child, and I found myself considering all the children I'd robbed of one or both of their parents. Having delivered them to death or slavery. Or even torture.
I just shook my head and delivered a firm refusal of her offer. It would not be good for me. It would not be good for the child. And I was left wondering about Mezoo's own sanity then.
I found that I couldn't remain there, among them, any longer. My skin felt hot and prickly, as if something was crawling over me. When I looked down at my hands I almost stood up from shock. They were covered in blood. It fell from my fingers in thick, fat, crimson drops. But all around me the chatting was going on just the same. I muttered a hasty excuse and left for the stream to clean my hands...
It was a day or so after my return to the harigga. I decided to wander for a bit and try to find a mark of familiarity among the wagons. At some point, I found myself nearing the fires of the first wagons.
I could hear voices before I saw anyone. Women. I didn't hear the deeper sounds of any mens voices. When the small group came into sight I saw Mezoo, Asria and Yamka. I offered up the expected greeting and sat down on the steps of someone's wagons.
I'm not sure what they were bantering about when I arrived. The mundane doesn't really sinks past the fog of my own thoughts these days. Which is why I've refrained from practicing my clan and spent the majority of my time of late working in the trenches. Simple, physical labor.
What I did notice were the expressions. The body language of each woman. Asria seemed wary. Unsure if what sat near her was a man or a dangerous beast. Yamka seemed wary, but not in the same way. It was as if she expected me to unleash every bit of rage and violence bottled up inside me... on her. I can't imagine why, of course.
As I was contemplating these things something broke through that fog. Someone was speaking to me. It took just a moment for me to realize it was Asria. She asked me about the new dome on my wagon. It had been replaced while I was gone on the plains for those few days. She'd spoken with the leatherworkers and had another made and put on. Yamka also mentioned that her father had helped replace it. I thanked them and fell back into silence. At some point Yamka brought me a bowl... blackwine, I think.
While I sat there, the conversation moved on to other things. I heard and listened, but nothing really stuck with me. That is, until Mezoo was asking me to assist her in babysitting. When I looked over, indeed, she had a baby in her lap and arms. I think it was Asria's son. I stared at the child for a moment, then just shook my head as I responded to Mezoo;
"I don't think that's wise."
But she was insisting. Something about it being good for me. I continued to stare at the child, and I found myself considering all the children I'd robbed of one or both of their parents. Having delivered them to death or slavery. Or even torture.
I just shook my head and delivered a firm refusal of her offer. It would not be good for me. It would not be good for the child. And I was left wondering about Mezoo's own sanity then.
I found that I couldn't remain there, among them, any longer. My skin felt hot and prickly, as if something was crawling over me. When I looked down at my hands I almost stood up from shock. They were covered in blood. It fell from my fingers in thick, fat, crimson drops. But all around me the chatting was going on just the same. I muttered a hasty excuse and left for the stream to clean my hands...
No comments:
Post a Comment