Brother and Sister

      Jump over the rock. Push aside that branch. Run through the bush. Push through it, don’t stop, the gashes don’t matter, they’re only flesh wounds. Hidden root, get up, keep going. Open clearing, run faster, get to the other side. Sudden incline, slide down it, don’t fall again. Rocky ground now, watch for rocks. Can’t turn an ankle now. So close.

Snap.

         Stop. Hide behind the boulder. Listen. Don’t pant.

         Seconds pass into long minutes. No birds chirping, no insects humming. The forest is silent; everything knows not to move, to hide. It is not safe.

Snap.

         In one swift movement, fueled by fear and desperation, anger and grief, I bend down and grab a rock, jump out from behind the tree and prepare to launch my measly weapon into the face of my attacker. I stop. I’m confronted only with the retreating tail of a squirrel, two broken branches on the ground, and leaves gently trailing down.

         Don’t waste time. Run!

         I whirl around and dart away, back onto my original course. My senses are augmented; every little rustle, I hear. Every leaf, every blade of grass, I see. My clothes irritate my hypersensitive skin, smells assault my nose.

          Keep the rock. It’s more open here, go slower, run from rock to tree, tree to rock. Don’t let them have a chance to see you. There! The oddly shaped tree with beautiful pink buds in the clearing! More caution. Stop. Hide behind this tree and watch.

         Seconds turn into minutes. Minutes trail along agonizingly. My rapid heartbeat begins to slow down. Nothing moves except the swaying branches of the peculiar tree. So close. My heart speeds up with the knowledge that I have to make the mad dash past the tree, which marked the final leg of my journey. My eyes shut. Deep breath in. I hold it for as long as possible, not knowing if I will be taking another one once I commence my sprint. Surely they would know about this place. Surely they must be in wait for someone just like me -- an escaper. Surely. It didn’t matter. I had to move. Staying behind this tree was not an option that would bear fruit. My lungs burned.

My breath burst out, I let out a sob, and ran.

         Go! Run faster, run like Peyton showed you. Arms pumping in sync with your legs. Faster, longer strides, almost there, past the tree, keep going, make it!

         Safety. I collapsed on the other side of the clearing against a tree much like the one I had just been leaning against. Similar trees, such different ranges in what each meant.

         Get up! Almost there. Keep going. Ignore the pain, ignore the burn, ignore the stitch. Ignore, ignore, ignore. So close to salvation. I need to make it! I hear waves. I smell the sea. I see light.

         My last three strides out of the trees and onto the barren beach matched my exultant thought:

         I am here!

♀☪☭☸♂

         Run, Charlotte! Run fast like I showed you all those years ago and save yourself. 

         She has a chance. I watched her fast retreating form with a fierce hope, waiting until she disappeared into the trees before running in the opposite direction.
         
I had to go find Farquhar.

         It was he who had been so kind to us these past few weeks. When Charlotte and I had arrived at his village, tired and worn out, dirt and blood streaking every visible surface, it was he who took us in without any questions. Farquhar had fed us in this time of scarceness, let us sleep in his bed, and all this without him knowing a thing about us.

True kindness.

         He treated us so well that just last week Charlotte and I had agreed to tell him what had happened to bring us to his door. We had both come to the joint agreement that a man of his benevolence could be trusted- he deserved our confidence.

         

“Farquhar…there is no doubt denying that the circumstances around our arrival here were far from good. And yet you took us in without knowing where or what we came from. Not once have you hinted that our presence here has been a bother to you as it surely must be. For all your kindness, Charlotte and I thank you,” I expressed.

         “Our story is a common one in this time,” began Charlotte. “Our village was not a large one, nor very prosperous. It was an out of the way place where we posed no threat to anyone. I still cannot understand why anyone would want to take over our home, but that is what they did. Savages from over seas came and forcefully, murderously took over our village. They killed the men and took the women and children hostages. Our parents.-,” Charlotte broke off, taking in deep, shuddering breathes.

         I continued, “Our parents were both killed. My mother tried to save our father and the savages thought that extremely amusing. They taunted our mother until they grew bored with “the shrew’s loud wailing” and killed her and my father. Charlotte and I had been spared only by a stroke of luck- we were out in the woods, relaxing at a favorite pond of ours. When we came back, the screams could be heard well off, so we hid at a window and saw all that happened. We waited until they had left our house, plundering it for the measly possessions we had, before going in. We could do nothing for our parents, but weep for them. We didn’t even have time to bury them,” I said bitterly.

         Composed now, Charlotte took over with the last details of our story. “We left soon after, running through the woods for days, maybe a week, sleeping wherever there was shelter. We had no sense of direction, as we had never been outside of our village. When we stumbled into your village, it was again out of sheer luck. God has blessed us in this one aspect.”

         Our lives must be tainted by some shadow, for the same thing that happened to our village was happening now. Questions and answers flashed through my mind at a constant speed: Did they follow us? No, its been too long. What if they’ve been waiting? Waiting for what? Did we doom these people? Why us? Charlotte and I have only Farquhar to thank again. When the village alarm had gone off, Farquhar had come to us immediately and told us what was happening. He also gave us a chance to escape. He told us of a beach not too far away that had hidden caves where we could hide. After giving us instructions on how to get there, he then went off, saying that he had to help any others that he could.

         Which is why I am running back. I could not let Farquhar die as he surely would against these barbarians. No matter what happened, I had to try and save him, the way he saved us. At least Charlotte was safe.
         
         I ran past Farquhar’s house, which was near the outskirts of the village, and continued towards the center of town. As I got nearer, I could hear a clamor coming from the village square. Treading softly, I crept closer to the square under the shadow of the apothecary’s home. Not close enough to hear what was being said, I scanned the area looking for Farquhar.

Betrayal.

         If only I had been a few minutes later, or earlier, I would not have seen the scene of friendliness between Farquhar and our enemies.  And then I saw him point in the direction that I just came from. The direction that Charlotte was running.

I charged.

♀☪☭☸♂

         Waves crashing, sand in between my toes. Skirt blowing in a gentle breeze. Setting sun. Horse hooves.

What?
         
         Men yelling. Foreign accents? Familiar… Oh no. Stay hidden!

         The voices got closer and I had to fight to stay calm and not bolt. I listened closely over the rush of the waves to see if I could discern anything. Horror washed over me as a lull in the waves let me hear the raucous voices.

“Where’s that sister of yours, eh Peyton? What’s her name? Don’t you want to tell us?”

         A sudden crash in the waves drowned out his answer, and in the aftermath of it I heard loud jeering. Cautiously, although every part of me screamed to go and save my brother, I inched to the opening of the cave, and looked out. Peyton was on the ground, his hand over his mouth, drops of red trickling between his fingers.

“Her name is Charlotte. Call it out, see if she comes to save her dear brother!”

Farquhar.

         What? Why did he- No, he can’t have! He was so kind! I won’t believe it, it’s not-

         Peyton lunged for Farquhar, managing to strike him in the face before the crowd of men around them restrained him.

         It was true.

         Venomous feelings flowed through me, surging and overflowing at the thought of his false kindness. My fists clenched and I ground my teeth together in an attempt to keep quiet and out of sight.
         
         The men held Peyton back as he continued to struggle to lunge at Farquhar again. I watched in panic as Farquhar strode towards Peyton, and struck him in retaliation. Peyton slumped against his restrainers and did not move again. Farquhar looked up, and it seemed as if he was staring directly at me.

“Charlotte! I know you can hear me. If you value your brother’s life, you’ll come out now. Otherwise… he’ll face the same fate as your poor, wretched parents,” he threatened. He stretched his hand out and one of the brutes handed him a short dagger. “You have until the count of ten to make yourself known. Ten, nine…”

         I scrambled out of the protection of the cave, yelling madly at him to stop. I ran to the group and tried to break through the throng of men to reach Peyton, but one of them grabbed me and held me captive.

“Let him go! Please… I beg you, don’t hurt him,” I pleaded to the nearest man.  My appeals were met with mocking laughter and imitations. Farquhar approached and I lowered my head so he would not see the loathing in my eyes.

“ Dear Charlotte, I am sorry to say this, but neither of you are escaping this time.”

Overcome by my anger, I could only spit out, “Why?”

         He understood. “For my own well being of course,” he stated as if it was obvious. “What happened to you and to your village almost happened to me once. A lone traveler, these men came upon me once. I would have been killed if I had not known of a person just like you who was hiding out in a nearby town. I traded their life and the promise of any others’ who I came across for my own.”

“Swine! You blackguard; you will pay for this,” I hissed at him, not bothering to conceal the hatred in my eyes now.

“Not in this lifetime,” he stated simply.

♀☪☭☸♂

         Two makeshift contraptions were made quickly atop the cliff that once offered me shelter. Peyton and I were unbound, but surrounded, sitting near the workers. Not a word was said between us. Our linked hands, and close heads were enough to convey our feelings. The setting sun’s rays lit everything on fire, offering to us one last glimpse of beauty before we departed on an unknown voyage.

         The sound of the workers’ actions silenced. They were finished. We were jerked apart and lead to the mechanisms, our hands tied behind us.  All sound retreated until there was a hush surrounding our group on the hill top. I gave Peyton one last, loving look as they slipped the nooses over our heads. My message clear to him, and reflected back in his eyes, I faced forward to look toward the sunset.

A motion caught in the corner of my eye.

         Drop.

         Pain. I tried to draw in a breath and failed.

         Agony. I struggled in an attempt to somehow get back onto solid footing and was unsuccessful.

         Torture. I tugged desperately at my bound hands, striving to free them and came to naught.

          My soul cried out one last ‘no’ as tears leaked out from my dimming eyes. Loosing feeling rapidly, my last thought was to stop my struggles, and let my last few moments be filled with the fiery, red remnants of the setting sun.

Darkness.

          If the sun set at that exact moment or if I slipped into my last rest, I will never know.