Rome: The Forsaken
Two - Beginnings
*One week prior**
She moved from the field, one basket on her head and one held against her hip. She didn’t waste any time helping the people in the tribe. Most of the village was out and alive by mid morning. You could see children playing women preparing lunch for the men who were out on a hunting party. Most of the tribe wore furs and skins for clothing, but few wore Roman clothing, as they could afford the expensive material.
She was wearing both. Her pants had been worn and cut, so they had become what Romans called "shorts." They fell a few inches below her round behind, covering what needed to be covered. Across her chest lay a leopard skin, which was held up by one thick strap across her shoulder. It, too, covered only the necessities, seeing how the bottom of it exposed her strong torso and some older scars. Scars littered her body here and there; some were from battles or enemies of some sort, while others were from punishments or settling scores.
She walked with a group of the young women. She was 17, almost 18, which was around the age where suitors would begin flooding the tribal land in hopes of marrying the young Arkean women. Men from other tribes and even across the land even came to court young Arkean women, but they stood no chance against the Tramano men.
Arkeans were different from the other people in the land; ancient legends tell of their origin. According to the legends, they were born through a combination of god and animal blood. Even more unusual, the blood that ran through their veins was supernaturally paired to that of their spirit guides. These men and women were stronger than average humans, and the women survived childbirth at a higher rate, even producing more children than any other tribe.
The girl smiled and started to give a few fake laughs as she heard words exchanged around her.
“He was so handsome!”
“He said he was going to ask my father . . . .”
“He looks so handsome when his shirt is off.”
Most Tramano girls were ready to wed by age 16. They would watch the men work the fields while laughing and giggling to themselves. She had never found herself in those situations, she never found anyone to her liking. She wanted someone smart and educated, and she wanted someone who liked to read and knew how to form battle plans. She wanted someone who made her feel protected, not the other way around.
Not one of the Tramano men seemed to be powerful enough to get close to her. They needed to be able to tame the beast inside her. Sure, they were physically strong, but she would be able to outwit any of them in a heartbeat.
She didn’t fit in with their tan-skinned people. Most of them had platinum blond hair and deep almond eyes, contrasting from hers. Everywhere she went, she never really fit in. Honestly, it didn’t matter where she went because she could never seem to fit in anywhere. She had been in this particular tribe for nine months, which was the longest she had stayed anywhere.
“Let me take this,” Kala, a large man two years older than herself, said. He was a good size, 6 feet and 2 inches, and his blond hair fell into his eyes as his shirtless body showed off his muscular chest and torso. She gave him an odd look.
“You're normally not this nice . . . ,” she said, narrowing her eyes playfully. He swiped the basket off her head with ease, a smile hinting on his face as he laughed. He was easily one of the largest men in the tribe. He walked shoulder to shoulder with the smaller girl – well, more like shoulder to head.
“It’s a special occasion,” he stated. The girl rolled her eyes. “And what is that?” She questioned, turning to the hut she had made herself. It wasn’t big by any means, but it was something. She set the two baskets on the makeshift table.
“Today is the day the we mark nine months with the beautiful, amazing . . . .” She hit him in the gut rather hard, effectively cutting him off. She huffed and emptied most of the contents into one basket, and she took the fuller basket and walked out again. Her pace was fast as her head was held high. “You are the worst,” he groaned, recovering from the blow to his gut and his even larger ego.
“Actually, I'm the best,” she reminded him, her tone mocking. She spoke their tongue almost perfectly now; it had only taken her three months to learn the basics. After she had picked up her first three languages, the others had become easier and easier to learn.
"Kala, did your girl beat you again?" A boy had spoken, and both Kala and the girl looked to their right to see a couple of males with spears at their sides.
“I can kick your asses too, if you'd like?” said the girl. She held her facial expressions in check as she allowed herself to appear emotionless, warning off the potential threats.
“Easy there, princess,” the same boy said, strongly, but no one could deny the underlying tone of fear in his voice. The pair moved on to the large wagon that would go into the city later in the day. She dumped her portion onto the wagon and made certain that the two women got her name down onto the scroll. They gave her a weary smile as she nodded.
“Anyway, I was thinking a trip to the--” The man once again was cut off.
Voices yelled out in the confusion, and fear quickly spread throughout the nearby people. Men and women scrambled as they saw Roman riders approaching at a rapid pace.
“Clear out!” she heard one man yell, but it was too late. He was dead. The riders came in, slashing and hacking, left and right, and they didn't hesitate to quickly grab any man or woman around, shackling them on sight. The girl had trouble regaining her senses until a hand grabbed her. Kala pulled her away from the mess with little effort.
“Them! Over there!” She knew the man had been talking about Kala and herself. She wasn’t letting this happen again, not if she had a say in it.
“Go Kala,” she ordered, but the words had fallen from her lips too late. She watched as the guards ripped Kala and herself away from one another, each of them kicking and thrashing. Kala's movements failed to benefit him. The girl forced herself to watch as the guards slit his throat mercilessly, and she vowed that she would never let them forget what they had done. In the midst of the chaos, everyone could hear one defining cry: hers.
It was as if something had snapped inside her. She shook off the men as if they were specks of dirt, and she ran toward a Tramano spear, wielding it with ease once she had gauged its weight. She turned to face her first opponent. The man that stood in front of her was skinny and weak looking, but she knew better than anyone else that looks could be deceiving. Her eyes were cold as she lunged at him, not wasting time on thinking. The screams of the man were heard as she stabbed right through him. Screams and cries could be heard from every direction, and at this point she couldn't tell who they were coming from. Arkean, Tramano, Roman: They were all the same to her. Her heart beat wildly as she looked at the destruction and chaos happening all around her.
Her breathing raged she saw him: a man upon a horse. His eyes were the light color of sea-glass, and his hair looked like the color of the dirt below her. She looked down for comparison, and she was surprised to learn that that fact was no longer true. The once brown earth was now a reddish mud. Her eyes flicked back up to the man. His eyes caught hers, which was one of the many dangerous mistakes they had all made that day. She saw him, and she knew that he was responsible for the destruction of the tribe. She couldn’t control her feet as she moved towards him. She killed any roman soldier that crossed her path.The blood of her enemies was prominent, but her own wounds didn't faze the girl.
“Take her with us!” were the only words that came out of the man's mouth. His eyes betrayed him, though; they were filled with fear. He was looking at a power greater than he knew. She moved, thrashing at any Roman near her, but she was in chains. Her hands were shackled at her wrists, which could not pass within two inches of each other. It didn’t stop her, though. She still killed six more men that tried to attempt to hold her down. She was like a wild animal defending itself, killing its threats, determined to live.
“Your attempts are futile,” the man on the horse said. “My name is Louis, and depending on your actions right now, you may live or die.” When Louis spoke, his voice cold, but she heard the shake after his last word. She felt at least eight pairs of hand on her. She didn’t respond with words as she spat at the man, which earned her a hard slap to the face. She hissed out, but it wasn’t loud enough to be heard above the rest of the chaos. The guards picked her up without hesitation as she struggled. Kicking her legs and wiggling her body: It was no use. She was shoved in a wagon, in which she was all alone.
“500 sold!” The auctioneer was loud and proud at his highest sale of the day. A man walked up, his hooded figure extraordinarily large. The head guard had also pushed off the wall. The two men led her away, pulling on the iron leash that was attached to her iron collar. She was the property of Rome now. She walked forward, her face emotionless but her eyes stormy, emotions swirling. She was connected to a wagon filled with men. They were all chained inside, and they all looked weak and feeble, but for slaves they had probably been the best of the best.
“Take a look, men,” the blond said, his accent nowhere near Roman.
“You're weak. You should take lessons from the animal.The girl clenched her jaw, but it was soon grabbed harshly.
“What’s your name, girl.” She raised her eyebrow as if to ask, ‘How would I do that I can’t talk with your hold?’ The man got the message, but he made sure to let her go roughly.
“I’m not going to ask you again, girl.” The woman narrowed her eyes slightly, answering reluctantly. Using their language, she translated her own name.
Hey! Sorry the update is way late I have sports all the time, piled on top of school and I'm super busy.....Anyway sorry for any mistakes. I am still looking for an editor and a cover if anyone is interested.
See ya'll next week!!