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Old 07-07-2006, 02:36 AM   #40
Shade of Carn Dűm
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Join Date: Mar 2005
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Zagra and Mazhg

The one called Ishkur had yelled out. ‘Stop the group. The sun is coming soon and the bad light will burn our eyes. Now we must set up camp and sleep. We cannot continue anymore tonight.’

Mazhg had pulled her sister aside quickly, holding Zagra’s hand tightly as she made her way to a little rise she’d spied - one with a few rocks that would afford them some shelter…and some small measure of safety, she hoped. They burrowed in beneath the overhanging rocky ledge; Mazhg pushing Zagra in first, saying she would keep watch. ‘And not for any who might be chasing them,’ she thought to herself. ‘Sha! Lazy dumb dogs, the lot of them. Now that no one drove them on with whips of fire and threats of lash and club, they would easily turn back. Easier to stay put, talk big, and thump those close by with hand and club.’ No, her eyes would be watching for any of the males in this group who came too near the little space she and Zagra had laid claimed for the day.

It was her hope that once the group had gotten to a place that seemed safe to settle in, she and Zagra could strike out to find a place of their own. Until then they would take what advantage there was in numbers to keep themselves safe from any challengers, any foe, who might seek to bar their way.

Mazhg flicked her gaze about the others in the group, watching where they were settling down. One of the bigger males, an Uruk, seemed to be challenging Ishkur. The two sisters were far enough away they could not hear what passed between the two. And truth be told, Mazhg did not care, either. They could have all the words they wished, even draw blood from one another…as long as they kept their distance from her and Zagra.

Her eyes tracked the two other women, wondering if they felt any need to make themselves secure from the males. She tugged at her tunic, hoping her and her sister’s boyish masquerade had not been seen through.

Turning her attention back to her sister, Mazhg rolled up her own raggedy cape, making a pillow for Zagra. She adjusted Zagra’s cape over her sister’s reclining form, tucking it about her like a blanket. A piece of dried meat and a small, hard biscuit made for the evening meal. All washed down with a few swallows of water from one of their waterskins. ‘Go to sleep now, little beetle,’ she whispered, rubbing her sister’s cheek.

The long, bright-hot fingers of old yellow face were feeling their way across the plain. Mazhg snorted, looking on with a sneer at the majority of the men as their faces reflected their fears of the rising sun and their gripping need to hide themselves away from its bright light.

Zagra and she had been made to work in what passed for fields…tubers of all sorts they’d cultivated, weeded the hot peppers, harvested the bitter-root and onions that seemed the mainstay for Orc cooking. And any fool knew goats wanted to wander around in the day light and sleep when the moon was up, the sky dark, as for that matter did chickens…

She settled in, chewing on a stick of dried meat. In a few days the supply she’d managed to get would run low. From one of her pockets she pulled out a ratty looking ball of twine, little pieces knotted together from bits and pieces of string and thin leather thongs that others had thrown away. With her fingers, she began to weave a small net; good enough to catch lizards or unsuspecting birds…..
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