After three days of following the stream and three days of cold camps beside the stream, it then joined another. The deep running water of the new stream was impossible to cross safely, so if they did continue to travel this way, they would need to follow this second stream north to find a crossing point. North to the mountains generally means faster running water although narrower stream. With horses, fording would be difficult, so she probably missed something Charis reasoned.

She couldn’t find where the horses left the stream, which troubled her and caused her to doubt her tracking skills. All she could do was turn around and walk a fair distance away from, yet parallel to the stream as best the terrain allowed and hope they didn’t cover their tracks too great a distance away from the stream. It still would mean she lost three days and she feared for Otonia, as it would take another three days to backtrack.

The other possibility she didn’t want to consider was they crossed the stream and headed either north or south on the opposite bank or worse still Charis was mistaken and Otonia was further South below the stream confluence as they somehow managed to cross the stream she followed and not the new one that joined it. Charis realised she could now be walking away from her friend and lover. Yes, she admitted to herself, her lover, her first. It would be a special feat, to lose your lifelong friend, then a fellow traveller who now as your lover could be the third to die who knew her. The bronze loop also yearned for its twin; a subtle want that echoed through her, which drew her back, discounting the other paths she considered. The nagging of a day ago now recognised by her as the bronze loop calling her attention to the twin, further tormenting her, she should have turned back yesterday instead of wasting another day returning.

On the second day back along the stream, Charis was surprised and somewhat relieved. Before her, a fully saddled horse enjoyed the sunshine of the day quietly grazing on a field of grass under hoof. She approached carefully and patted the horse like many others before her to gain the horse’s trust. Unable to ride and not brave enough to try she led the horse by its reins. She soon collected another horse, same as the first, late the same day. In finding these horses, she found a sliver of hope return after so many days of nothing. Would she be in time?

---

Determined and desperate Otonia decided to leap from her horse as best she could. As she landed, she tried to roll, remembering how an act in the troupe trained to do the same thing. She collapsed instead, painfully, and gangly, the riding stealing strength from her legs and the riding ache in her bottom excruciating. Luckily the horse’s hooves missed her falling body by a finger’s width as it continued to trot by, oblivious to the loss of its rider.

She stood up and started to hobble, fall, pick herself up and then run, fall, climb to her feet and try to run again. The pain was overwhelming, fighting for her survival she would worry about the hurt another time. Fun Otonia was gone, a new resolve surfaced, one of desperation and willing herself to escape and live. One of the men doubled up he was laughing so hard at Otonia’s pathetic struggling. She didn’t pay him any attention; she gritted her teeth and fought on.

The one who laughed slowly dismounted, he was expecting this earlier, as they all try to escape at some point. He gave chase and after a few hundred heartbeats caught up to her and with a kick to her ankle, one ankle crashed into the other and she fell hard. When she didn’t end up on her back, the other pushed her body with his foot until she rolled over and his face lit up as if he was about to taste something delicious. Otonia was still recovering her senses, his salivating over her, kept her alive for a little while longer. Her reprieve was delivered by his display of carnal want and desire.

Otonia recovered in time to notice her friend catching up and called out to him directly.

“I thought you were my friend and you let him hurt me. I want to be your friend and only your friend,” she appealed.

“Leave her Bonrard, I will take her to the cabin,” her friend said, the one she hoped would be her friend and protect her.

Bonrard glanced over his shoulder at him and scoffed with disgust.

“Where did you leave your balls? How many times we done this you old lecher Wodem? Now for some reason, this one is special. I’ll take her and break her in since you seem to have forgotten the game we are playing.”

“It is my turn as first.” He then pulled Bonrard back by his shoulder and away from his new girl friend.

“Bullshit!” he replied shouting, his face twisted as his head swivelled side-to-side trying to figure something out.

Wodem took a step back and starred at Bonrard.

Otonia caught her friend’s eye and pleaded for his protection. “I am yours I will be your best friend.”

“Shut up bitch.”

Bonrard tried to step forward to slap her, prevented when his partner grabbed his shoulder again.

“It is my turn to be first, I picked her, I raided the camp to get her, she is to be mine first,” Wodem answered, while Otonia called out the sweet name of her sweet friend.

Bonrard paused for a moment; he wasn’t sure what happened, the game they both enjoyed, the selection, the taking, and the claiming, how the plan change? Could he trust him to keep playing properly, as they always did? Wodem seemed kind, overly considerate to this one.

Bonrard pushed Wodem back and then picked her up by the front of her shirt top one-handed; it was enough, deliberately with roughness, succeeding in ripping her shirt top, his grin flashing teeth celebrating his success. He placed both hands on her now and grabbed her by that same shirt top and tore the cloth away to reveal more of her feminine flesh in front of his playmate, her ample breasts swaying freely after his violence, trying to get his playmate’s attention back on their game. Bonrard stood back a little so his playmate could appreciate his reward, although why wasn't Wodem right here doing this showing him.

Bonrard swivelled back to appreciate her. He noticed the she-bitch, she mouthed help me at his playmate, then, produced tears! Bonrard turned cautiously to study the man he no longer recognised. Wodem’s face screwed up with rage, a burning vengeful rage. He didn’t understand, this is their game, played the same every time! They were partners in this game until this bitch changed the rules somehow and he hated her, his teeth clenched in anger.

Struck by his playmate’s fist he flung the she-bitch away so he could defend himself. Wodem’s punches were never his best attack. Bonrard recovered quickly from the punch not so quickly from the betrayal.

Otonia recovered slowly, still hurting. While they fought to her relief and hope, she wouldn’t remain silent.

“Save me for yourself, only you are my friend, I want to be only yours,” she yelled with false passion. She needed to sound as sincere as possible while fighting for her survival.

Bonrard glimpsed her in disgust, he didn’t understand, what happened to them, to their game. He couldn’t make sense of the change in his partner, and then he felt a cold blade slide into his flesh. Her distracting was deliberate, the bitch, somehow destroying them, destroying their partnership and their game of many years. He knocked his playmate away with his body to allow himself a moment to think. He would need to reach for his dagger; not enough time to draw his sword. He never expected his playmate to draw a dagger and stab him, punch a few times maybe, nothing more, a friendly dispute between partners and nothing more, dammit!

Holding his hand over his wound with one hand and dagger in his other hand; his playmate was leaping on him now, his rage grown out of control. The savagery and complete lack of skill in his playmate’s attack, surprising. What was going wrong? Was he insane or driven insane by her? Was she a siren of some sort? He realised then and there he would need to kill him. There was a fleeting touch of sadness; nevertheless, his survival was easily more important to him. In an instant, he manoeuvred the dagger to take his playmate’s charging leap. When they both hit the ground he rolled his playmate off him, the dagger still transfixed in his playmate’s throat and up into his skull.

Bonrard stood slowly. He trembled slightly, his body weakening as drops of blood seeped out between his fingers. He now drew his sword to help him stand, using it as a crutch.

He savoured the bitch’s horrified face as he approached, step after step, closer. He enjoyed the moment as he leered at her, savoured the fear, her eyes wide, scrambling backwards on all fours still facing him, a little brave perhaps, trying to get away.

It wasn’t enough she thought. Otonia struggled to her feet; she needed to get her legs running; only to fall again. She rolled over to observe her approaching doom.

Holding his wound staggering over to her, his eyes rolled back in his head, and he collapsed backwards like a felled tree.

Both of her kidnappers didn’t move. She lay there for a short while in disbelief before standing. Otonia circled him at a safe distance and reached her friend. She slowly and carefully withdrew the impaled dagger and gripped it tightly. Bonrard remained quiet and still.

Otonia hefted the dagger for balance and then in one fluid motion threw it at Bonrard, it struck him in the eye, and his body didn’t react, not a single twitch. They were both dead and now convinced, relief washed over her. Otonia sat back down, no smile, wonder, taking it all in, and doubted no longer the power of the bronze loop embedded around her toe. Clearly, the only reason she still lived was due to its power to influence, Otonia in awe and quietly troubled now. She realised how close she come to death, twice now, so perhaps the curse to follow Charis was true.

She fixed her shirt top as best she could. It made no difference. The three horses were standing where they were left, grazing on the fresh growth of grass about them. She stumbled past them and was about to enter the log cabin when she realised the door was shut. What stopped anyone from entering when the waggoneers weren’t there?

It took a while, carefully searching the horses, trying not to startle them until she found her daggers and one of their spare shirts. She swapped her shirt for an oversized replacement, one dagger sheathed in her boot and the other stayed in her hand.

Carefully approaching the door, it opened easily, so she slowly continued to open it and peered around it into the cabin. Her glimpse inside revealed a bare and empty room. Then she caught a flicker of something and quickly slammed the door.

“Don’t go, help, please! Don’t die!” screamed a weak uneven voice from inside the cabin.

Otonia started opening the door again.

“On your belly, crawl, stay low there is a trap. Please don’t die! Please don’t die!”

Otonia went with a different plan. She positioned her back against the cabin on the hinge side of the door. She pulled the door open towards her so whatever was waiting would smack into the door or an empty opening.

A horse whinnied and then fell, while the other two bolted in panic. A very large arrow, maybe a small spear in size protruded from its chest. It thrashed for a few moments and then stopped. What killed a horse would easily kill any human she realised or possibly two if they were near enough to each other. She bent over and vomited, probably for many reasons, including this one.

She peered around the door and in the far corner of the cabin, in a cage a starved girl crouched. Her bones pushed out of thinly stretched skin, trying to escape the flimsy parchment thick restriction. Otonia found some water and allowed the girl to sip.

After some time, she sat up slowly and leant against the wooden bars of her cage. The door was open although she didn’t attempt to leave.

“Are they dead?” she asked, there was a quiver of fear in her voice.

“Yes, they won’t be bothering anyone, anymore,” Otonia replied.

“When I get the energy I will spit on them, the disgusting brutes.”

She broke down and tried to cry yet no tears came forth, her body couldn’t afford to lose the moisture.

“Are there others?”

“They talked about others, never seen them, thankfully, those two were enough.”

“When were you taken?”

“I was their plaything since before Death Season. I kept them warm at night and other uses.”

She shuddered and tried unsuccessfully to spit in disgust.

“I was meant to die. Part of their game is for the new girl to remove the body of the old girl as a lesson. All that told me, at some point, they would starve me to death, so I hid away a portion of the meagre food they gave me and importantly some water. They left me without both, two weeks ago. Then I hoped and you came.”

“The smell of the dead body, the mess, and the death stink in the cabin?”

“They thought the lesson more important, and they would make the new girl return everything once the cabin was cleaned. This bare cabin isn’t their wealth, another cabin is behind this one, mostly underground and therefore hidden. I was lucky I guess, the one I replaced was just a dried husk and bones. It also means no one approaches the cabin with the stink of death about it and the scavenging animals can’t get in, so it works perfectly for them as far as I can tell.”

As she reaches for some more water, Otonia holds it to her mouth to allow her to sip slowly.

“There is also no trail to the cabin, you follow the stream, then the cabin is set back into the trees, so you need to know it is here unless you are knowingly searching for it,” Otonia suggested.

“What now?”

“Well, I am expecting a friend to find me, so I think the important thing is to feed you a little and while that is being done, I will see if the horses are still close. There should be some wood so we can burn the evil scum. It will ensure judgement on their released spirits, and they don’t remain to torment the living. Then there is the matter of a dead horse, which I am not too sure about, although I can at least claim anything useful from it, like the saddle.”

Ignoring everything else the girl only hears one thing.

“Food, that sounds wonderful.”

“Were you taken at night? How do they see in the dark?”

“I don’t know, I was too stunned to think and was well away from my family, alone and scared.”

“Well how about I carry you outside and perhaps place you under the shade of a tree while I inspect their other cabin. Hopefully, I will find some delicious food to aid your recovery and regain your strength.”

“Some more water and then that would be wonderful.”

The cabin held food, all preserved for months. Inside the goods and chattels included many female clothes, shoes, belts, and wonder of wonders hats! It was a large collection. Otonia wondered how many actual girls these sets of clothes would number. It was sad to see, as each set would be a life no longer living, probably a young girl, taken from loved ones in the middle of the night and suffering while alive and suffering more as they slowly died. Alone and terrified, what makes people treat other people without any human decency, using them up without remorse.

Otonia found some clothes and possibly, they would fit her rescued friend.

“Oh yes, please! I have been in these threads or rags, except when they required my body that is, for months now. Could you dress me? I know I am too weak, and I know my body is wasted so I crave the smell and caress of clean clothes.”

Otonia couldn’t resist her as tears were now falling over her thinned face and bony cheeks. Her happiness was a mask for the pain she suffered, only cracking now.

“I will do one better, there was a large cauldron in there. I will fill it with water and warm it with fire. Find some soap and wash your body before you put any clothes on. Is that acceptable?”

“That would be wonderful, know I am grateful that you rescued me and that is enough, to be alive.”

“My friend saved my life, and I am trying to do the same for you. I wish to help, to see you well, to show my friend I value what she did for me, and it is necessary and expected we help each other.”

The tears turned to uncontrollable sobbing then and Otonia gently held her, more concerned she would break than anything else. After a while, she settled and Otonia noticed the dried tear tracks under her closed eyelids. She lowered her down carefully upon the cloth under the tree in the shade trying to ensure her comfort as best she could. Once finished, she started the real work, making sure she completed everything she told the girl she would do.

Otonia gathered wood for the pyre first for the scum. She didn’t dig a hole for them, instead found a barren patch mostly dirt so the fire wouldn’t spread. Otonia rolled them together onto a bed of wood; she couldn’t lift them, let alone carry them. She then piled wood over them and using flint lit some twigs and chips satisfied when the wood proper began to burn. Not waiting for night, a smokeless pyre during the day would probably be punishment enough when their souls faced Jury. She did think to use the pyre to signal Charis; unfortunately, it could signal anyone, and she didn’t want to risk it. Somehow Charis would find them, Otonia certain in her belief.

Next was a repeat, this time near the other cabin, although she fetched some water before starting the fire under the cauldron. When all was underway, Otonia turned to check on her wasted friend and found her awake.

“I’ve been watching you in secret. I am cautious in my trust and have been quietly thanking my luck I was rescued by you, and you truly care.”

“Well, time for me to honour my offer to you.”

Otonia approached her and carried her to the cauldron, the fire was out, and the water warm after adding some cold stream water. She placed her down lightly and her pitiful clothes shredded easily while removing them, to reveal white skin and bone. Examining her skin, Otonia added more cold water, so the cauldron contained lukewarm water. Her skin was parchment-thin fragile, and she didn’t want it to fall off her while in the water.

Placing her naked body in carefully, Otonia noticed her smile. Gently using a soft cloth and some soap liberated from the other cabin Otonia carefully and slowly dabbed washed her, worried about her thin skin, from head to toe, every nook, and every cranny, regardless of protest.

“You must be cleaned, including those places injured or in pain, I am not just washing away your obvious dirt and pain, I am trying to show you this cleansing is a new start for you. You will be safe with me.”

Otonia released her so she could wash off the soap, being careful to ensure she wouldn’t accidentally drown herself cursing her soul if too weak to save herself. After a brief inspection, Otonia was satisfied she was finished and carried her out placing her upon a clean cloth in some fading sunlight. Patting her down with another cloth Otonia then clothed her, showing her what she selected first and getting her approval.

Otonia then revealed a hidden bowl, portions of cheese and apple awaited her, followed by more water. This took some time to eat, as the portions were very small. Dusk arrived by the time they both settled into the other cabin for the night. What worried Otonia as she settled, the cabin contained six bunks. She also remembered the dead horse, something needed to be done before any rot set in.

“You sure you don’t you remember any others, just the two I killed?”

There was no answer her rescued responsibility was already fast asleep.

---

After tracking the horses, Charis realised that horses left alone travelled in random directions without purpose. It took most of the next day before she finally found a trail, one left by two galloping horses. The horses didn’t carry any weight as they galloped, so they were startled and ran off. It didn’t matter, these tracks were easily followed, Charis was certain she would see Otonia soon.

She realised why she missed the cabin the first time past this point. It was well back from the stream, settled into a grove of trees, made of logs that blended in with the trees behind it and set low behind some rolling land rising gently from the stream. The place was perfectly hidden, you needed to know it was there to find it or track some horses back to it.

Charis tied the horses to a nearby tree and then approached as quietly and stealthily as she could. She noticed a burnt down pyre as she approached and paused trying not to think of the worst. There was no movement about or around the cabin, so she scouted around the back and discovered a second log cabin, largely buried blocking any rear escape from the first cabin. She found another pyre in front of it, although perhaps not. A large cauldron was sitting in the ash and burnt logs.

She crept back to the front cabin and tried to eavesdrop inside, without success. She then threw a stone at the horses until one whinnied, loudly. The cabin door opened cautiously, enough for someone to see out and then further, enough to see the horses. Charis then kicked the door fully open and out flew her lover!

Charis leapt upon her and showered her with apologies and kisses, she could not contain her happiness on so many levels appreciating who lay with her on a bed of grass, with sunshine above them. It was with equal relief when Otonia returned her greeting to Charis. There was a long-remembered passion in the kiss and a welcome relief they were reunited.

“You know I could have stabbed you as we rolled together?”

“I thought I had you surprised enough with light blindness to make sure your knife was nowhere near me?”

“Maybe. I would like you to meet someone,” Otonia announced as both broke their embrace, rolling apart. Staring up from their grass bed they spied upon a very skinny yet amused well-dressed girl.

“Hello, my name is Dione,” said the girl of skin and bone, playful happiness in her voice. Her unusual grey oval eyes were clearly full of life in contrast to her body.

She leant against the doorframe, although standing well enough. She seemed to be recovering slowly from an illness perhaps thought Charis, although given Otonia’s kidnapping attempt probably from something more terrifying and demeaning.

Otonia and Charis compared the days gone past once inside the cabin; both relieved to be reunited, touching, and petting each other. Dione’s health was slowly recovering so they couldn’t leave her or escort her. Dione instructed them on the care and feeding of the horses, which they followed. They used the horses to drag the carcass of the dead horse further away from the cabin, as the best Otonia could do was cover it with branches and leaves. The rotting smells erupting from the carcass would overpower all nearby.

The well-stocked larder suggested the waggoneers were planning to stay with their new captive for a long time undisturbed. It also meant Charis and Otonia wanted for nothing while they waited for Dione to recover.

Otonia pointed out to Charis the number of bunks in the other cabin, nevertheless, a couple of weeks passed without a visitor or an intruder for that matter. During that time, Otonia made nice with one of the horses under the watchful eye of Dione and not to be outdone Charis joined so she could also learn to ride. She still remembered tracking with the Knight mounted on his horse ambling along behind her. She also remembered how he galloped off after they parted ways when she lost the trail at the stream. Walking seemed so much less now.

For Charis riding was functional, solely transport; she only made an uneasy alliance with her horse, which meant she became a proficient rider. Otonia on the other hand revelled in the oneness of rider and horse, the speed, and the command of the beast. It gave her freedom of speed although she needed to care for the horse before and afterwards, as they were fragile things really. Charis taught both Dione and Otonia how to read and write their names when riding was too painful, well at least for Charis so she didn’t need to admit that riding was, at times painful!

“Dione, you recovered enough to ride?” Charis asked.

“Yes, well enough not to fall off at least. There is enough meat on my bones now.”

“Are you ready to leave here? I only ask as you still sleep disturbed and restless at times.”

“I, well, didn’t know I was making so much noise, I am sorry if I kept everyone awake, I will sleep in the other cabin,” Dione shouted as she walked away.

Otonia caught her and while she fought to escape, there was no strength in her body to break free.

“Leave me be,” Dione shouted, her face twisted by hurt.

“Dione, calm down, I meant no offence. My father always taught me to be direct and we know being with those men was difficult for you. We don’t know much more, nor can we imagine so I ask out of concern only. I want to be sure that you are ready to return and if you are not, we will stay with you until you are,” Charis said.

“What if I am never ready to return? Have you thought about that?”