A Runner

The undergrowth was thick it made running almost impossible. Sheila dunk under a low hanging branch. They were near, she sensed it. The ground became sticky and it was harder to take a step. She trudged on, each step harder than the rest. She fell, clawing her way through the mud. She sunk, deeper and deeper. A hand reached out to pull her out and she opened her eyes. A hand was lifted into the air. She lowered it to her side. A cold rag dabbed her forehead. She pushed the maids hand away.

"Get my mother." The maid ran out. Sheila sat up in bed. She stared around her quarters. Large baskets lined the wall. Some hung from the rafters as decorative pieces. A few of those had strange looking plants. Some held foul smelling herbs too. She turned her attention to the maid who came running back.

"Her majesty has gone to the temple to offer her sacrifice on your recovery."

She got up from the bed and walked out the door. Her hut was part of a larger circle of huts. The larger hut to which hers was connected by a pavillioned walk was her mother's. The largest was her father's set back and separated from the others. Her stepmother's quarters stood on the other side, connected to her father's in the same way as her mother's by a pavement. Same charging statues as in the healer's hut manned the entrance to her father's quarters. A small statue of a howler lay close to the entrance. A living howler lay beside it fast asleep. Sheila knew he wasn't in there, he seldom was. Mostly, he was with his chiefs at the fort. She ran her gaze around the wall encircling the compound. There was a small door built into the stone wall. She had never understood the intention of the builder, but it suited her needs. She set her sights there. The maid was behind her.

"Are you strong enough to walk?" she asked when she saw they were leaving the compound.

"We are not going too far."

"She turned towards the path to the river.

"Do you wish to collect herbs?"

"No. I only wish to walk." she walked a little further then stopped. The maid was like a weight. "Go back home." The girl knelt.

"I can't leave you. You know I can't let you wander off alone."

"stay in my room till I return."

"The girl walked away slowly. Sheila turned on her way. She wanted to get away, perhaps run away if that was a possibility. She walked towards the river. She stopped and looked at herself in a small puddle. Her face was clear and beautiful. She could hear the gurgling of the water, clear and distinct now. Turning away from it she walked on quickening her pace. After walking for what she counted as half an hour, she saw smoke rising a short distance and veered off the path to avoid detection. In a small clearing, two huts stood facing each other. A lazy line of smoke rose from one. Rising from the brushes, she stepped into the clearing. An elderly woman was picking sticks and she turned as Sheila approached. She starred at her unblinking, then turned and began walking to her hut. Sheila followed.

"What do you wish for, spirit child." she asked over her shoulder.

"I wish to know."

"I am old and need someone to tend my fire. But if you are too much of a princess to do a maid's work, have it your way."

Sheila followed her into the hut. She dropped the wood beside the fire and proceeded to her bed. Sheila knelt by the fire. She sat quietly stiring the contents of the pot and poking the fire. The silence was heavy, Sheila wanted to say something but she found the woman's gaze foreboding. Occasionally, the woman moved from her position to drop a few ingredients in the liquid. It took a long time of stiring and poking and when she was satisfied, she asked the girl to stop. Getting up from her position, she poured some into a bowl and handed it to the girl.

"Don't stop till it's empty." She went back to her position with her own bowl. Sheila put the bowl to her lips. It wasn't delicious but had a good aroma. She emptied her bowl and set it down. "Are you a runner, dear child?" Sheila thought for a while.

"I wouldn't know if Kwase is a runner."

"Are you swift on those feet?"The woman asked again as though she had not heard the reply.

" I think so," she said carefully.

" It is the night of the wolves and you are far from home. Don't you know that." Kwase dashed to the door to inspect. She had tended the fire for too long. It was getting dark.

"We wouldn't want that maid of yours to get punished for your misdeeds, do we." Sheila said nothing. Her heart was thumping at the thought of outrunning a pack of wolves in the woods. She turned to the woman for a better option.

"You see I have no door. In here or out there, your fate is yours. Your father would just as well hang my head on a spike should he find you here, beloved child." Sheila hesitated.

"The night is not getting any younger." There was a satisfied smirk on that face.

"You haven't told me anything." she said. "You have not told me what I need to know. You know why I came."

"Come back should you survive the night. I thought you came to have dinner."

Kwase fluttered her eyes open. Her bed was smaller, although much more comfortable. She looked at her left hand where a tube was connected and frowned. What was this? She turned to her right. A woman sitting by her bed had fallen asleep, her face in her palms. She tried to sit upright and the bed creaked a little. The woman jumped from her sleep and headed out the door. In not more than a minute, she returned with two women all in white.

"How are you feeling?" the doctor asked?"

" Where am I?" Kwase asked in return.

"You are at the hospital, dear." The woman who had been sitting beside her bed answered promptly. The doctor proceeded to look at her eyes, asking questions which she did not answer. They adjusted her drip, gave her an injection and went out. The woman followed them. She returned shortly.

"I'm so glad you are awake. I thought I would loose you." She was crying.

"What happened."

"I'm not sure. I came home and just couldn't wake you up. You've been out for days now," she said, tucking the blanket into the bed. Kwase didn't see the need.

"Where is mother?"

The woman paused at what she was doing.

"I am your mother, Sheila." Her voice broke. She sat back in her chair and Kwase saw she was crying. Unable to stay, she got up from the chair and went out again to bring the women in white. Kwase saw them walk in again as her vision blurred. She closed her eyes to escape her present reality.

It had been the right thing to come, she had come. Now she regretted it. She moved away from the hut, picking her way gingerly towards the path. She could not decide if it was safer hidden in the trees where she could hide behind a tree if need be, or follow the path where she could see properly. She picked up her pace staying on the path. She had not been much of a runner and was not sure of this body either. No one she knew had outrun a pack of wolves, was it possible? She broke into a short run. The thin outline of higher ground appeared and was shortly hid from view by the tree tops. That was the fort. She would find a hiding spot in the hills. It felt safer that way. She began to run. There was another possibility that lay with getting to the hills bordering the fort. She would dash down to the river side, follow the healer's hut to get home. It was a possibility. The night was still young. She could still make it home before the whistlers sounded the alarm.