Pawn (The Pawn Series Book 1) Read online

  She turned away, but the clan chief called out. "And what of your offer?"

  The woman answered over her shoulder. "Our captain will bring the wagons when she comes."

  And then the strangers strode from camp, most of them flanking the woman who had spoken.

  * * * *

  "What's happening?" I asked my sister.

  "Be quiet," she said, hitting me. I was long used to it.

  It was the wives of our clan chiefs that bathed us, two wives for each girl. They stripped our clothes from us, poured an insane amount of water over our heads, and then scrubbed us head to toe with firm brushes and ample soap. It hurt, but I accepted the treatment stoically, standing there, naked for all the clans to see. Then it was another insane amount of water -- two entire buckets -- to rinse me off. And then they picked me up and plunked me into a large tub, filled with water.

  It was cold, and I yelped involuntarily, but the two wives simply held me in the tub.

  I couldn't believe the amount of water. I hadn't ever seen so much water in my entire life. While the two wives held me, two more stepped forward and washed me again. I finished the treatment with a thorough dunking, coming up sputtering water. I'd never been held under water before, and I didn't like it!

  As the youngest, I was the last to receive the bath, and so I had watched seven other girls be bathed the same way, but even then, it had been quite a surprise to me. From their expressions and reactions, this was a new experience for all of us. I would have laughed at my older sister if I hadn't known I'd be suffering the treatment myself.

  The strangers also had clothing for us in much the same style as they wore, but simpler. Even then, none of the Arrlotta knew how to put on the strangers' clothing, and it was my mother who went from one to the next of us, showing how this went on first, and in what fashion, then this piece and then that one.

  Then I helped my sister with her hair, brushing it out and braiding it again. But when the strangers saw us braiding our hair, they said something to Mama. And so Mama went from one to another of us, arranging our hair about our shoulders. Mine was too short for that, and so she simply brushed it out and let it hang as it would.

  I asked Mama what was happening.

  "I don't know, Yalla," she replied.

  "Who are these strangers?"

  "They are from Framara to the west."

  "Why do we have to wear these clothes?" I plucked at the odd clothing, but Mama slapped my hand.

  "Don't fuss. And I don't know. Enough questions."

  * * * *

  It was only a little while longer that we waited, all of us girls in a cluster, watched carefully by the clan chiefs' wives, perhaps to ensure themselves we neither wandered off nor removed the clothing in exchange for far more familiar attire.

  But then there was noise, and when we all looked, we saw the strangers approaching, but this time with renewed numbers. Everyone reassembled, the men with the horses in their long lines, the clan chieftains in the semicircle, the remainder of the Arrlotta arranged behind them.

  And, with several of the chief wives watching us carefully, eight confused and nervous girls at the edge of the semi-circle where everyone could see us.

  The strangers came to a stop, but then two stepped forward, both women. One was the woman from earlier. The other was younger, but she carried herself oddly. It took me a minute to realize she walked as a clan chieftain walks. I couldn't help but stare.

  She was perhaps in her nineteenth summer, five years older than I was. What a great gap that seemed at the time.

  She was tall with long, blonde hair. It was held with a single tie and hung over one shoulder. She struck me as quite serious -- and quite beautiful, with quick eyes that seemed to see everything.

  The two women came to a stop, the older to the side and slightly behind the younger. Mama moved forward and then knelt in the grass, also slightly to the side, and the clan leader who had spoken earlier stepped forward.

  "We have our offer," he said. "But where is yours?"

  The new woman turned to the other, frowning. She spoke too quietly for anyone to hear, and Mama did not translate. The other woman, the one who had spoken earlier, shrugged. Still frowning, the younger woman turned back to the clan chief. "I will assure myself I am satisfied with your offer." At the time it didn't seem strange she spoke our language, although slowly and with a thick accent. Without another word, she turned to the horses in their groups of four. She ignored the men, but she inspected each horse carefully.

  It was clear she knew what she was doing.

  She completed her inspection but then she backtracked to one of the horses. "This horse has a..." She broke off and switched to her own language. My mother provided words for her. "A cracked hoof. It will not do. We require a replacement. However, as it is otherwise a fine animal, we are not offended by your offer, and we do not demand two, as we might otherwise be justified."

  A cracked hoof? Just the accusation was tantamount to a demand for honor, and the man holding the horses stiffened. It was the man's clan chief who stepped forward.

  "You accuse my horse of being inadequate?"

  "I mean no..." She broke off and started over, and my Mama was forced to translate. "I mean no disrespect. If you doubt me, check yourself."

  The chief did just that, and when he turned around, he was clearly angry. He hissed words, and one of his sons dashed forward. He took the horse's halter rope and led it away. "My son will bring a replacement," the chief said, his words tight.

  I didn't know who would suffer tonight, but I was glad it hadn't been my mistake.

  "Perhaps we can continue," the first chief said, the one who had been speaking.

  "We will wait to examine the replacement," the woman said, not requiring Mama this time.

  And so we all waited, several of us quite confused as to what was happening. I still didn't know who these strangers were, and I didn't understand why the Arrlotta were giving them so many horses.

  I didn't know what was to become of me. Surely they weren't giving them eight girls! What horses were the strangers giving us? Where were the girls that would be traded for us? Was this a trade at all? I didn't understand.

  It took a few minutes, but shortly there was a replacement mount. The woman inspected it very carefully then straightened. "A fine animal," she declared. "We accept this portion of your peace offer." Then she spoke rapidly in her language. One of the other women raised a horn to her lips and blew, and from the direction of their camp, two of their strange wagons, pulled by four horses each, began to move in our direction. The wagons followed, one after the other, the path formed by the two lines of horses then turned around, barely able to maneuver in the tight space.

  "That one is the food," the woman said slowly. "And this one has tools and leather. Examine the goods."

  At a gesture, the men stepped forward, emptying the wagons onto the ground and opening each of the crates. As indicated, the first held food -- sacks of grain, dried meats, herbs, and other goods that could be easily transported across the open steppes. The second one had crates of leather, another crate with knives that were far better than the ones we could make, and yet another crate with various tools. I saw one small bag that contained what appeared to be buttons and another with several spools of black thread.

  The men took their time examining everything before finally the chiefs declared, "We accept your peace offering."

  "Then I shall examine the girls," the woman said.

  As we had been before, the eight of us were lined up. The woman stepped to the first in line. "What is your name?" she asked in her careful words. "How old are you?"

  And so the girl gave her name but said she didn't understand the question. And so my mother said, very quietly, "She wants to know how many summers you have had."

  "This is my sixteenth summer."

  "And you are the child's child of the clan chief?"

  The girl didn't understand that, either. Mama spoke in
the other language for a moment, and the woman nodded, replying with a single word.

  "She wants to know if you are your clan chief's granddaughter."

  It was a foolish question. We were all granddaughters of our clan chief. She was the granddaughter of her clan chief. My sister and I were the granddaughters of our clan chief. And so the girl said simply, "Yes."

  The woman moved on, asking the same questions of each girl. Finally, waiting at the end, she arrived in front of me. I lowered my eyes.

  "What is your name?"

  "Yallameenara," I replied. "But I am called Yalla."

  I must have said it too quietly or too quickly, because the woman asked something in her language, and Mama replied. I heard my name, the long form and the short one. The woman turned back to me.

  "How old are you?"

  "This is my fourteenth summer."

  "And you are the clan chief's granddaughter?"

  "Yes."

  She nodded then moved away from me, back to the head of the line. She examined each of the girls, walking around us one by one and looking into our faces. Finally she returned to me. "Yallameenara, is it?"

  "Yes."

  "Look at me."

  I was looking at her, but apparently I was doing it wrong. She reached forward, clasped my chin, and forced me to look up into her eyes. She turned my head this way and that. Then she stepped away, walking around me twice. I watched her nervously.

  She moved away again, walking up and down amongst the girls for another minute. She made another pass, but when she reached me, she took my arm. "We will accept this one."

  She began pulling me to join the other strangers. Numbly, I let her draw me with her. But I looked over my shoulder. Mama was staring after me. "Mama?" I began to struggle with the woman. She simply clasped me more tightly and continued to pull me forward. "Mama!"

  My mother climbed to her feet, screaming. Immediately several of the strangers stepped forward, their hands on the hilts of their swords, and I was dragged between them. "Mama!"

  My mother was stopped by the strangers, two of them holding her back. She was babbling in words I didn't know, crying out. The woman came to a stop and turned us both around. She spoke briefly in her language.

  The strangers hadn't hurt my mother; they simply held her back. But at the woman's words, they released her, and she ran forward, wrapping her arms around me tightly. It was then I realized we were both crying.

  "I will give you a minute," the woman said to us. "But only a minute." I barely understood her.

  "Mama," I said. "What's happening?"

  "Oh, my little Yalla," she said. "Remember that I love you. Always remember that I love you." She paused. "I need you to listen carefully." Then she spoke, but they were words I didn't understand.

  I told Mama that.

  "I know," she said. "Repeat after me, into my ear. Don't let anyone hear." And then she taught me the words, one sound at a time. She made me repeat it, over and over, making small corrections a few times.

  Yahtize málon forseck a milona prestainamatta varth.

  "I don't understand, Mama."

  "I know. Late at night, every night when you are alone, I want you to remember these words. Say them very carefully, three times in all. And some day, if you ever learn what the words mean, you will know what to do. I know you don't understand, but do what I've told you."

  Then the strange woman was there, pulling me away. Two more of the strangers began to pull my mother from me. She kissed my cheek and said, "Remember I love you. Remember the words."

  I began sobbing and trying to pull away from the woman. The other woman, the woman who had spoken earlier, stepped forward, and the two of them began dragging me away as I struggled and struggled with them.

  And so I was walked backwards all the way to their camp with its cluster of wagons. And they had horses, too, although they were not at all like the horses of the Arrlotta. They were much bigger, but I thought they would do poorly on The Hippa, the great desert steppes of my home.

  The two women spoke in their own tongue while still struggling with me. The younger one spoke loudly, and another woman came forward. I didn't realize why at first, but the two women holding me pulled my arms forward, and the other began wrapping rope around my wrists. I struggled and struggled, but it did me no good, and soon I found my wrists tied together.

  The woman tried to talk to me, but between my panic and her thick accent, I didn't understand. I probably didn't try to understand, in all fairness. And so a horse was brought to her. She climbed atop, and then someone handed her the free end of the rope they'd used on my wrists. A minute later, and we were traveling west with me walking along behind, pulled by the rope around my wrists.

  I looked over my shoulder at the assembled clans. My mother was kneeling in the ground, watching me as I was led away.

  It was the last time I saw any of the Arrlotta, at least by the time I write these words.

  Three Questions, Three Answers

  We traveled perhaps an hour in that fashion before they called a break. I had long stopped struggling, the Arrlotta well behind us. Instead I numbly put one foot after another, my head down to avoid tripping, and let the horse drag me by my wrists.

  But we came to a stop. The woman climbed from her horse then reeled me in by the rope she held until I came to a stop in front of her. I dropped my bound hands to my stomach and stared at her feet.

  She stepped closer and lifted my chin so I was looking up into her eyes. "Do you understand me?" she asked slowly.

  "Yes," I muttered.

  "You have a choice. We are traveling very far. You may continue to walk. Or you may promise to obey, and then you may ride."

  I couldn't help it. I looked over my shoulder in the direction we had come. There was sign of our own passage, of course, but there were no Arrlotta in sight.

  "Where are you taking me?"

  "Do not mutter," she said. "Speak clearly." And so I repeated my question, trying to say each word slowly. The woman nodded. "Do you promise to obey me?"

  "I guess." I muttered the words and looked down again.

  "No," she said. "Kneel. Look up at me. Speak clearly."

  I said nothing. I shouldn't have to obey her. She was older than I was, but she was only another girl. She wasn't a man. And so I told her that last part.

  "In Framara, it is not the men that rule; it is the women. You will promise to obey me. If you do, you will ride, and I will answer your questions. If you do not promise, you will walk."

  "I promised."

  "You did not promise properly. Kneel. Look up at me. Promise in a clear voice."

  I felt sullen about it, but I slowly lowered myself to my knees. I looked up and began to speak.

  "No," she said. "Back straight." She moved to my side and adjusted me until I was in the position she wanted. Then she moved back in front of me. "Say 'I, Yallameenara, promise to obey Juleena in all ways, from this moment forth.'"

  She had to prompt me, but I got the words out. Then she made me say it a second time, and then a third so that I could say it all the way she wanted without coaching. Then once she did, she stepped forward and helped lift me to my feet, clasping my shoulders. She spoke carefully but quietly.

  "If you break your promise, you are a-" and she used a word in her own language. "It means one who breaks an important promise." I wasn't sure I very much cared. But she leaned away and looked into my eyes. "You don't care if you become a-" and she used the word again. "Do you?"

  "I promised," I said.

  "If you break this promise, you will be caught and punished very severely. Now do you care?"

  "I said I would obey," I said sullenly.

  She looked at me harshly, not saying another word. "My name is Juleena." She raised her voice, speaking in her own words. A moment later, one of the men brought a horse forward, a very large horse, already saddled. "Get up."

  I stared at it. "That's too big."

  "I would let you
ride an Arrlotta horse, but I know how you train them. I do not care to chase you down. You will ride this horse. He will not respond to your tricks."

  "I said I'd obey."

  "And I will wait to see if I believe you," she replied. "Get up."

  "Are you going to untie my hands?" I held them out.

  "I will wait to see if I can trust you."

  I sighed and turned to the horse. I required assistance climbing aboard, and when I looked down, it was quite some distance to the ground.

  * * * *

  Juleena maintained possession of both the rope to my wrists and the reins of my horse. And so I followed along behind her, the rest of our group clustered around us.

  The Framarans didn't travel single file like the Arrlotta did.

  It was another hour before they called another stop. We all dismounted, but Juleena kept me tethered to her, holding my leash with one hand while directing her people into preparing a camp. It was only midday, and so I was surprised to see them making camp.

  But it turns out it was only temporary. "We eat lunch here," Juleena told me. "Do you need to-" Her words came to a stop. "I don't know the words."

  But I guessed. "Yes." I wondered if she would untie my wrists.

  I wondered if I ran away, did they know how to track someone across the steppes?

  She turned away with a single word. "Come." She tugged on my wrists, and I scrambled to follow after her. She led me a short distance from the collection of people before turning to me. She reeled me in, tugging on my wrists, until I came to a stop immediately in front of her. We looked at each other, although I lowered my gaze nearly immediately. But she gave me a good hard look before speaking.

  "You don't know what's going on, do you?"

  "No."

  "We thought you-" she broke off. She really spoke Arrlottan poorly. She shook her head, and I could detect a hint of frustration. "We thought your chief ask you."

  "Asked me what?"

  "If you go want."