Most of us long to "Be" but when the path gets too costly, or steep, we take solace in what we "Have." Remove the trappings of what we own, and then what is the sum of us?
They were the survivors, abandoned by the allies who swore to protect, in...
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Earlier that very same evening back in Bennett's desert valley, life had changed little during the absence of the warriors. The few men remaining took their turns at the watch, and the slaves went about their daily labors. It was almost dark, the evening star appearing brightly as the last hint of rose faded into deep indigo in the west. Carlos sat up high staring out at the encroaching night, absently twisting the gold ring on his finger, and observing the quiet valley below him. He had healed fully, regaining his strength and vigor, and was impatient to be gone from this place.
For some time now Carlos had been aware of Bennett's absence from the valley, along with the majority of the men. Though he knew not the nature of Bennett's mission, and had for the few nights past, made ever more daring excursions into the camp to steal necessary supplies for his impending exodus. Carlos had done well, and all without being seen. Accumulating a good supply of food, a water canteen, a blanket, and some flint.
However his biggest risk would be undertaken this night. He would have to gain access to Bennett's cabin to get his boots, and although he did not expect it to be difficult he did not relish the prospect of going so far into the camp's interior. That accomplished, he would still have to steal a good serviceable knife. By far the most difficult task of all. Weapons were not just left lying around, requiring that he steal one from a sleeping or careless warrior. Understandably he was nervous about this.
He did not know when Bennett and his minions would return, however he was eager to be long gone before they did. Pushing his lengthy raven hair back over his shoulder he got to his feet, and hitching up his baggy army greens that hung loosely on his slender hips he went back to the interior of the cave. Selene cast her glare of mistrust his way as he entered, looking up from her work of gutting a rabbit through her mane of tangled dark hair. Carlos noting her hand was never far from her poisonous little bone weapon, and he had no desire to feel its bite again. Since committing his impulsive act, which he now regretted, Selene's demeanor had changed toward him markedly, and Carlos was confused why she had elected to return and stay with him since that fateful night. Still he mused there was much he did not understand about his wild companion's motives.
He gave her a wide berth and went toward the stone ringed hearth in which the fire had burned low to embers, and squatted down removing his shirt, retrieving the coolest of the coals from its edges rubbing their blackness on to his skin. The soot made the perfect night camouflage, and he had little doubt he would need it and all the stealth he possessed to accomplish the task at hand.
*****
Pig lay in his filthy crumpled furs close to the brightly blazing fire, one hand gripping a grimy tankard of alcohol and the other roughly kneading Sarah's exposed breasts. The vulnerable woman cried in pain at his not too gentle caress. The sweaty, dirty man cruelly persisted, oblivious to her discomfort and revulsion at his touch. Dwayne, lean and dark, sat close by, engaged in similar sport with Kate, he too partaking of the alcohol and plentiful food.
