Sea of mud and tents

In front of a carriage, horses run. Kind strangers hold my hands while I sit in the carriage, comforting me. I try to brace against the bumps. I miss every bump and feel battered and bruised. I hold my belly that has grown larger than a melon, but don't wonder what it holds. I don't want to know. I am afraid to know.

A distant drumming sounds. The approaching thunder of many hooves. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six, seven, eight, nine, teneleventwelvethirteen... Too many to count by just the approaching sound. Out the dancing curtain, I see them arrive. Beetles carrying sharp blades. Twenty. More than twenty. Harsh shouting surrounds us and I catch the glimpse of swirling yellow around a golden shell. There's a whiff of that overbearing perfume, mixed with blood.

The carriage jerks to a halt and in the small space, we strangers huddle together. I think they're strangers. Maybe they're strangers. Are they strangers? Their faces are not entirely unfamiliar...

Incomprehensible words are barked and exchanged. More horses come drumming, along with arrogant war cries. The horses surrounding us immediately face outwards. My head is hugged to someone's chest, preventing me from seeing anything. It is warm and soft and it smells familiar. Blossoms. A faint scent of blossoms marred by the stink of sweat and fear.

Outside, metal clashes. Crashes. Rings. Meaty bashes and strikes can be heard. Shouts and screams. Cries split the air. The horses scream and cry out. The earth shakes. For a moment, there is a terrible stillness. The carriage jerks forwards, sideways, overturns and I roll tumbling.

Golden armour strikes through splintered wood and drags me out. The golden armour wears a yellow cape and wraps me in hard arms that crush me to the unforgiving chest plate. A thunderous voice bellows over the background sound of ongoing crashing and bashing, shouting and screaming. Others are pulled out of the splintered wood.

One.

Two.

Three.

Is that all? Weren't there more, just now? When I try to look, my head is enveloped by an arm of blue and green that has the scent of calming herbs, blocking my view.

"Don't look, my Lady. Don't look."

Bundles are thrust into arms and slung onto backs. One is even roughly pushed down over my head and into my arms. I am ushered with crying, limping people through grass to a small dirt road amidst a nasal whining voice that doesn't stop scolding. It nags and whines and is giving me a headache. The small dirt road ends onto a wider road.

I stand and try to walk but cannot. There is red all along the road. I can see it. I can smell it. My legs tremble and shake and then fold under me. It has followed me. The red has followed me. I can't - I can't - I can't -

Hands lift me onto a horse where golden armour holds me with one arm and takes the reins with the other. It is a jostling, bumpy ride that bruises my bones and jolts my joints. I close my eyes. I don't want to see anymore. I don't want to know. Please. I don't want to know.

From a bed of furs on a low bed, I rise. The floor is carpeted with furs but underneath is dirt. There is a smell of tanned death. A smell of putrid mud. This is not a good place. Not a good place. Not a good place to stay. There is sickness and death in this place. I can smell rotting meat and red. I can smell the red. It is just outside the thick walls of cloth. I don't want to look but I can't help myself.

Out the door of a tent I look at a land of mud and a sea of tents. Too many bristling beetles. Too many strangers. Too many hollow eyes and still too much red. There are so many people covered with it. Breath catches in my chest. It doesn't move. It's like there is a ball that has stopped the air. I can't breathe in. I can't breathe out. Blue and green fills my shaking vision and firm arms hold me tight.

"Hush, child. It's all right. It's all right. It's all right."

A girl flutters about me. Another sways like blossoms in the wind. Warm, moist cloth wipes my face and neck. Then my hands. I am fed with bland food and boiled water. A white beard tickles my palm and a gentle smile fills the wrinkled face when I laugh at the feeling. What a funny feeling. Do it again.

Again!

"What now, Father? He caught us."

"He won't kill us. My Lady needs us."

"Then what do we do?"

"We wait. Wait for the right opportunity to escape again. Keep your eyes open. Stay alert."

The tone of their voices don't match their facial expressions. It's confusing. I pause in my game with the tickling white beard to look around. They all smile at me but something sad and worried is hidden behind the mask. Why are they wearing masks? A shiver of fear shoots up my spine while I look from face to face. Are they bad people? Pretending? Did I do something wrong? Did I make a mistake?

"No, no, my Lady. Don't be scared. It's all right. We're sorry," a sweaty hand takes mine in theirs. "Look. Look at the coloured stones. You like to play with these, right? Here. Here, take them and play for a bit."

The coloured stones are placed onto my tummy, one by one. The ones placed on the side slide off the round top. Red. Blue. Purple. Green. Yellow. Orange. It's a rainbow. A rainbow of colours. They shine in the light. So pretty.