Ohim’s eye rested just above her eyebrows keeping the sweat from her eyes. During a fight the black headband would cover her physical eyes allowing her to see with Ohim’s sight. Her eyes had not been covered today. Today she had held a torch, along with four of her comrades. Those were the torches that had started the fire, which now consumed the village.

The rest of her Djuhah comrades had waited outside the village to kill the villagers who tried to flee in the early pre dawn hours.

Alia looked to the east where the sun was just beginning to peek its head above the treetops. It had been an easy victory as usual. She swallowed the disgust that rose in her mouth. These weaklings did not deserve to inhabit Ohim’s land.

A child darted from a burning building to her left. How she had managed to survive inside the building so long Alia did not know, nor did she care. In three strides she had caught up to the child. She quickly grabbed her hair and with her other hand, slit the girl’s throat. She threw the body down and spat on it.

“Unworthy vermin” she snarled as she turned and made her way back to her companions waiting in the trees. Kerim smiled at her as she sat down between him and Husam.

“I don’t think you are happy until you have killed someone for the day.” He laughed. Alia cocked her head to the side and regarded him seriously. “I will not be happy until they are completely removed from this fair land,” she corrected, “ But I do like to do my part each day”

Kerim laughed again. He was always laughing. “ You are a fanatic”

Alia grinned. “So I am,” she agreed.

“ It is said among the masses,” Husam reminded them, “That we all are.”

Alia sneered. “They are almost as bad as the Aerd” She leaned forward and rested her arms across her knees. Then she stood abruptly, “Time to go.”

Kerim gave the sign, and they began making their way through the woods back to the main camp. The rest of the raiding party would follow. It was not long before the victorious party was back in camp. Alia slipped into her tent and pulled off her voluminous black robes. She wore a short tunic and brown breeches underneath. Then she headed for the prayer tent where the rest of the band would already be. Alia winced, she did not want to lose Ohim’s favour but the hour she would spend in prayer would be better spent doing his work. She never told anyone she felt that way and though she was sure some of the other’s felt the same, none would admit it. Such talk would be the cause of the speakers’ death within minutes. A comrade who did not like the speaker would be very happy to carry out Ohim’s will for such blasphemy. It was a bad time to discover one had enemies.

Alia slipped inside the circular tent and found a bare spot. A special flap had been opened to allow the sun to shine directly in. She was careful not to choose the spot where the sunlight hit the ground. It may be the most blessed spot but it certainly got hot. As she knelt she caught Husam’s eye as he knelt across from her in the circle. His arms were already crossed over his stomach to show that he protected his own life. Alia crossed her arms and placed her forehead in the dirt. When everyone was settled the prayer began.

An hour later, Alia lifted her head. She stood and stretched her tired muscles. Finally it was time to do something useful, exercises. The Djuhah fighters congregated in a small clearing behind their temporary camp - all of their camps were temporary – while the rest of the company would do the daily chores. When Alia arrived, Aktun was assuming the leadership position. Alia frowned “Where is Yosif?” she asked.

Aktun glowered at her, “ That is none of your concern, pupa”

Alia sat down on the ground and crossed her legs. Kerim smiled at her and did likewise, followed by the rest of the Djuhah. Yosif was the best loved of the older Djuhah, all looked forward to his classes. By sitting they were refusing Aktun’s instruction.

Aktun walked up to Alia and stood over her. “ You are not yet my equal, PUPA. You cannot refuse my instruction. Get up!” Alia stood and looked in Aktun’s eyes. “It has been a long time since we sparred, LARVA, would you care to back up your boast.”

He bared his teeth to her and then laughed, “ of course.” The rest of the Djuhah were already moving to form a circle around the two. Alia handed her dagger and small slender sword to Kerim.

“Be careful Alia,” he whispered to her before moving away to take Aktun’s weapons. “Staffs" Aktun said, and Alia winced. It was her worst weapon

“Can’t fight with a man’s weapon, Aktun?” she taunted. She had hoped to have the advantage, since Aktun had fought in the raid today and must be tired. Aktun, only smiled and assumed his opening stance. Alia laughed inwardly. He had taken a balancing stance, not a fighting stance, perhaps he really had been fighting the soft Aerd too long.

Alia decided she would begin with a Power Donn, in order to get things over with quickly. The power Donns, or fighting stances, were rarely used by female Djuhah, as they required a lot of upper body strength.

Alia raised her staff above her head and rushed in, as she got close she dropped her arms and spun to give more weight to the blow as she began to extend her left, Aktun had not yet moved. As the blow was about to land on his head his staff was suddenly in the way. Just as quickly her staff had left her hand and was flying through the air. She switched quickly to the sixth Donn of speed, as she struck twice with her left fist, and switched quickly to her right. Staff blows to her wrists blocked all blows. She stepped back and tried to kick, and found herself tangled in staff and arms and thrown backwards into the dirt.

“You may as well give up now, you are handicapped.” Aktun said softly. Alia scrambled to her feet furiously and attacked just as furiously. She could beat him without the staff! Alia struck out with fists and feet, and even her head, but not one blow reached Aktun. When she found herself on her back for the fourth time she allowed her head to fall back and she closed her eyes.

“Finished?” Aktun asked. Alia nodded. “Get up, pupa, it is time for today’s lesson.” She climbed wearily to her feet, as the class formed a circle around Aktun.

“Endurance,” Aktun announced. Alia groaned inwardly and assumed the Horse rider stance along with everyone else. After what seemed to be an eternity, Aktun called out “balance”. He put hit arms straight out to his side, closed his eyes and tilted his head backward, while continuing to hold his stance. Many of the Djuhah, their legs already shaking from fatigue, fell over backwards.

After the gruelling exercise many collapsed to the ground in fatigue but Alia remained standing. She was not really sure how she did it but she was determined not to show any more weakness today than she already had. She could not stop her legs from shaking as she ambled away. Alia tossed her long dark braid back over her shoulder. When had it fallen to her side? Her legs did not want to hold her anymore when she finally reached Yosif’s tent. She scratched at the tent flap. “Father?” she called softly. There was a small muffled sound from inside the tent. “Father?” she called again.

“Alia, I’m very sick,” came a soft voice, “ Go away, you cannot afford to get sick. You must be strong. War is in the air.”

Alia’s legs buckled. “You have not seen the healer have you?” she asked sternly. She was rewarded with the sounds of coughing from inside. Fed up, she pushed aside the tent flap and crawled inside. Her father was lying on his side, facing the tent wall.

“Go away, Alia.” He said softly but firmly. Alia sighed and flopped backward onto the ground beside her father.

“ I cannot,” she said, “ My legs will not carry me.” Yosif whimpered softly. “Father,” she said, “You were fine this morning. What could strike you so ill that you would fear for me?”

Her father sobbed “ Alia, please, crawl away if you must…”

Alia sat up on her elbow, and touched his shoulder. The whimpering sound came again, but it was not her father. Looking over his shoulder she could see the blanket in front of his abdomen wriggle. She reached out her hand, and found her wrist trapped in a vice grip. Her father was not pleading now, his face was as hard as stone.

“Leave,” he said as he sat up leaving the blanket covering the wriggling mass. Her face was just as hard as she pulled her hand from his. He clenched his jaw, and pulled the blanket away himself.

Alia gasped and fell back, “ What is THAT?”

“It’s a baby,” Yosif answered matter-of-factly.

Alia’s mouth curled in disgust. “It’s an Aerd baby”

“I killed his mother this morning, he was helpless,” Yosif’s face softened as he looked at the child.

“But it’s an AERD baby” Alia stared dumfounded at her father.

“Yes Alia,” he replied. “I will leave with him tonight. I will take one of the goats we captured from his village to feed him.”

“Has the dark one taken you father? You know you can’t leave, they will kill you so that you cannot spread our secrets. I will kill you myself. Our vows are sacred, if I allow you to break them we all might die.” She continued to stare, mouth open wide at her father.

“Alia,” he reasoned “you know I will not share our secrets. You will not kill me”

“This morning I knew you would not allow an Aerd to live.” She said, “I will kill you if you try to leave with the child, Yosif” she pulled her knife from it sheath and reached for the child. “ I will remove the dark ones hold from you so that you will not die.”

He moved in front of the child. “Before you make a decision, look into his eyes” He reached around and picked up the baby and held him up for her to see.

Alia looked, “ His eyes are blue, a lot of them have blue eyes, father” she reached to take the baby.

Yosif turned to the side so she could not grab him “ Look harder, Daughter”

He held the baby up again but Alia did not look.” I will only see a weak, stupid Aerd father, why do you want to save him?”

“ They are not born stupid, Alia, they are raised that way. If I raise him he will be as we are.”

Alia swore under her breath. “The Dark One really has taken you. Ohim chose the Mariktan, not the Aerd, because we are smarter and stronger and more capable of caring for the earth and His people. If we allow even one Aerd to live…”

“That’s enough” he broke in, “ I am sorry, in a moment of weakness, I forgot our mission. I will take the child out in the woods tonight and get rid of him”

Alia sighed in relief. “Thank you, Father” she stood slowly, and was surprised at how much strength her legs had already regained. “ I will bring you your high sun meal, and an ember, that you may pray.”

“Thank you, daughter,” he said as she exited the tent.

Many of the Djuhah were already almost finished eating. Alia grabbed a plate and a cup and ate quickly. Her heart pounded in her chest the whole time. She was afraid; mostly that someone would discover her father’s treachery and kill him. She had some fear for her own life, that she would die without being able to carry out Ohim’s will that the Mariktan dominate the peoples of earth, but mostly she was afraid for her father. He was all she had left. Her mother, brother and sister had died many years ago.

After she had wolfed down her food she returned the plate, so that the camp workers could wash it and grabbed a plate for Father. She put an ember in a stone cup and returned quickly to her father’s tent. As an elder he did not have to share a tent as she herself did. When she ducked inside the tent Yosif was running a finger lightly across the baby’s face. When he saw her he pulled away with a guilty grin.

“ He has such a soft face,” he said softly. Alia grunted. “You have grown so hard Alia, your mother would not be proud.”

“Mother is dead,” she said as she plopped the plate down. “ If he cries you will be discovered. I will volunteer to scout and take him and dispose of him”

Yosif shook his head. “ I killed his mother, he is my responsibility. Do not fear, he will not cry.”

Alia nodded curtly and slipped away. She made her way to the prayer tent. The early prayer flap had been closed and a new one opened at the right angle. She found her place, but her mind was not on the prayer today.

After prayer was combat practice. She chose Husam for her sparring partner today. He would go easier on her after having witnessed the fight this morning. No one else in the camp would.

After she had thrown Husam three times he just lay on the ground. “Husam?” she asked. He finally stood back up slowly. “You don’t have to go easy on me.” She said, “ at least challenge me”

Husam looked slowly around the camp. Alia paused and looked around too. All of the fighting teams seemed only to have half their heart. They were stumbling around and moving much slower than usual. “What are they doing?”

Husam frowned at her. “Their hearts are heavy, why is yours so light?”

Alia heard her own heartbeat pounding loudly as she thought of her father. “Why would it be heavy?” she asked calmly.

“It’s a bad omen,” he said as he pointed at the sky, which had become overcast. “A very bad omen to receive orders that we are to rejoin the main army on the day like this.”

“We got orders? When?” she knew, she had been preoccupied with her father. That had to be when the camp got the news. “They told us before noon prayer. You were there Alia,” he frowned at her again.

“Oh,” she said brushing her hair back from her forehead. “ I must not have been listening”

Husam grunted and moved quickly to engage her again. This time he was not so easy to beat.

Ordinarily they would have had a short time to rest after the long day, but today the camp was preparing to leave. There wasn’t much preparing to do, as they didn’t have much. A Djuhah camp had to remain highly mobile since they frequently had to move on short notice. Mostly, Alia assumed, they were preparing mentally, as she was. She had packed and repacked her bag several times. Then she remembered her father and the baby. Her heart hammered loudly in her chest. He was likely getting many offers of help, as everyone thought he was sick.

She stepped out of the tent. Her father’s tent was not far and as she looked up she saw Husam slip out of it. She tried to swallow the knot of apprehension as she approached. Husam blocked her path.

“He is already packed and does not wish to be disturbed.” He said coolly

He knew. He knew and he was not going to tell her until he had a chance to inform the others and have her father executed.

“Husam, let me by he’s my father.” She looked into his eyes pleading, but he did not budge.

“He said no one Alia.”

“If he is that ill then he may die, and I will not have said goodbye.” She knew it sounded feeble, but if Husam knew then he would understand her true meaning.

His lips quirked, “He is not going to die. Don’t be so flighty.” Then he did smile.

Alia nodded satisfied. He obviously did not know. She looked around the quiet camp. “Who has first night watch?” Husam would know, he always knew.

"Fatima, Umar, Najib, Jamal, Fayiz, and Tufala,” he said. Alia whistled through her teeth, and he looked at her curiously.

“Are you sure he won’t see me?” she asked. “Maybe you should ask him.”

Husam folded his arms. “He’s asleep”

She frowned at him, turned on her heel and walked away fuming. She needed to make sure father went past the right watch so that he wouldn’t be seen. Some of the Djuhah were less watchful than others. Father knew that of course. She had never felt that she needed to look after her father and it was disconcerting to feel that way now, but he clearly did not have all his wits about him.

There was only one thing to do, she had to stay up and watch too. She walked inside her small shelter and plopped down on the ground. She had third watch. She was already so tired she needed to she could hardly keep her head up. The sun had passed down over the horizon by now. First night watch would be starting soon. She lay back on her palette. Just a few minutes, she would rest her eyes then she had to get up and watch for father.

It was perhaps because she had been thinking of her father that she awakened so easily when she heard the baby wail. It was not a long wail and was quickly silenced, but it was enough. Alia bounded to her feet, quickly pulled her fighting robes over her head, and headed in the direction of the sound. She hadn’t even taken off her boots before falling into an exhausted slumber.

She headed west in the direction of the village they had burned this morning. She had not gone far into the trees when she found them. Fatima and Umar had father by his elbows, in his arms he still managed to hold on to the baby. Husam and Najib stood by, swords drawn, pointed at Yosif.

“We should take him before the others immediately,” Najib was saying.

“What’s going on?” She said as she approached. Najib’s jaw clenched and he glared at her.

“She has no say in this. She is his daughter, therefore she will be biased.”

Alia noticed the goat packed with fathers things nearby. She gave her father a hard look and the glanced questioningly at Husam.

He looked at her sadly. “ You’re father was caught harbouring the enemy” he nodded to the baby. “And attempting to desert the Djuhah,” he nodded to the pack mule.

“Probably going to teach them our secrets.” Snarled Najib

“You have no proof of that,” said Fatima. “He was only trying to save a baby. We are all weak sometimes. If we simply kill the baby we will remove temptation. Yusif is the best…”

“He is a traitor. We will kill the baby and bring him to justice.” Said Umar.

Alia looked at her father, and shook her head sadly, “Father how could you?” You promised.

He clutched the baby tighter, as everyone waited for him to respond. “Alia,” he said finally, “my only daughter, THIS IS MY GRANDSON.” From the corner of her eye she could see Husam close his eyes as if in agony. HE knew. “Give me the child,” she said, “I will kill it myself.”

Husam took two steps and gently removed the baby from Yosif's arms. As he put the baby in her arms he looked in to her eyes and nodded imperceptibly, and stepped away. Alia drew her knife and held it to the baby’s throat. She turned slightly to the left so that her father could see the baby’s eyes.

With a sudden flick of her wrist the knife went flying. She barely saw it as in sank into Najib’s eye, because she was already running. She dodged trees, ducked under branches and leaped over debris. Behind her she could her the sounds of pursuit. Hopefully that was only Husam, and not Fatima and Umar as well. He would probably pursue her for awhile and then return to say she had got away. She ran as fast as she could in the off chance Fatima and Umar had escaped father or raised the alarm.

Alia ran. Her lungs burned, her arms, which held the baby, were numb. She knew that if she stopped she would not be able to start again. She moved silently through the forest and she did not hear the sounds of pursuit. Husam would make sound to let her know he was there. Fatima or Umar would not.

She was falling. She shifted to land on her back so the baby would not be harmed. She lay there panting. Every breath was agony. She did not get up quickly enough. She didn’t think she could now. The bundle in her arms had been remarkably quiet. Alia pulled the covering back from his face. He was asleep.

She sighed in relief and pushed up on one arm to survey her surroundings. There, to the left was a thick patch of brush. That would be a good place to rest. She sat up completely and suddenly the baby was in her lap. Her arm had ceased to hold him, but still he did not wake. Alia’s heart hurt, probably from the running. She bent forward to listen for his breath. She willed her own to be still and quiet, and there, finally, she felt his soft breath on her cheek.

Quickly, before her aching body could convince her to put it off, she moved them both to the cover of the brush.

Alia hummed softly to herself and swung the berry basket by her side. She had always loved the quiet solitude of picking berries. She had been grateful when Mama had sent her out this morning. She had been fighting with Waleed, her brother quite a lot lately. At twelve she was not content to let him boss her around anymore.

Her berry basket was full, which meant she would have to go home again. She meandered slowly in the direction of home, humming to herself, and studying the plants by the side of the path. She looked up in the direction of her village, and frowned. There were an awful lot of fires burning for this warm day. She could see the smoke rising.

She walked faster. Finally she came in view of the village, and stopped dead. The village was on fire. She was running toward the village when she saw the riders. Large Pale men with flashing swords, The Aerd. They were killing her people.

Alia paused in confusion. Then she saw her mother running at one of the riders with a sharpened longstick. His sword went through her chest and Alia was running again.

An arm grabbed her and she was flat on her back. She looked up into his blue eyes as he grinned at her and shoved up her dress. His eyes suddenly widened in shock as he fell on her, his weight crushing her. She shoved his lifeless body off.

Waleed was standing there with a bloody knife in his hand. “Alia,” he said, “I love you. Little sister and mother are dead. Please run.” He was gone, back toward the village.

As Alia ran away she heard screaming.

She woke with a start. The Baby was screaming. Alia sat up and shushed at him. He kept crying. That was when she noticed her robes were wet where he had been sleeping against her. She grimaced and pulled off the sopping wet cloth that covered his bottom. She held it out from her and looked quickly around. That’s when she noticed her own knife lying nearby. Husam had been there. If only he had left dry clothes to put on the babies bottom.

She looked at her voluminous robes and sighed. She took the knife and began cutting. She wrapped and tied part of her robe on the baby and picked him up. He continued to scream and the black cloth fell off. She lay him back down, and pushed and shoved and tied. He screamed. She picked him up again. He screamed. She put him down again and made shushing noises.

Alia pushed her hair back from her forehead and looked at him. The she took the knife to her robes again. When she had finished she had made a sling and she tied the baby to her. Maybe walking would calm him. So she started out again.

She continued to walk and he continued to scream. Finally, Alia stopped, “will you be quiet!” she told him. “You are going to get us both killed.” He cried. So Alia started walking again. “Why were you so quiet for Father?” she asked as she walked. He cried. Alia began to hum as she walked. He cried.

Alia stopped and pulled him out of the sling and held him up in front of her. He paused and looked at her with his bright blue eyes, and then started screaming again. Alia had the sudden urge to throw him against the nearest tree. He was useless vermin. He was worse than useless. He might get her killed. She turned to the nearest tree and swung her arms back and then forward, but she did not let go of him. The momentum of her swing overbalanced her. As she fell to her knees she settled him gently in the grass.

“What would father say?” she asked him. “Nothing!” she snarled at him. “He’s dead now because of you. The last of my family; dead at the hands of the Aerd. They killed mamma and Waleed, and Safima. Safima was your age, they showed her no mercy, like I am forced to show you.” He found his fist and began to suck. Alia sighed and sat back. “Hungry. That’s why father had the goat. I don’t have a goat,” She told him. She looked around as if she might find the answers in the trees as she had found her knife. “Can babies eat berries?” she asked him. He took his fist out of his mouth and screamed.

Alia tied him back on and continued walking. Hunting berries with her eyes. He had finally exhausted himself and dozed in a fitful sleep when she finally spotted a small patch of blackberries. He woke up and began to scream again as she picked.

Father had been so upset with her when she had decided to join the Djuhah. Djuhah did not get married or have children. It meant that he would never be a grandfather and their family would ever remain him and her. It must have bothered him more than she knew for him to take in an Aerd baby and call it his grandchild.

Alia smashed some berries in her hands and tried to feed him some on the tips of her fingers. He spit and screamed louder. She kept trying. He kept spitting. Finally she gave up and ate the berries herself. She was ravenous.

Alia felt a twinge of guilt as she finished the last of them. She was by no means full, but at least she had something in her belly. He had nothing. “What are we going to do? I guess you are all I have now.” She winced at the bad taste that left in her mouth. They continued their journey.

They walked throughout the day. The baby alternated between fitful sleep and screaming. They had to stop twice for Alia to change the cloth on his bottom. As night fell Alia searched for a place for them to sleep. She lay her robe on the ground and curled up with him tucked in the shelter of her abdomen.

As Alia drifted off to sleep she felt tiny fingers curl around her hand and she smiled.

She awoke to screaming and she got up and paced with him. When he dozed she lay back down. It seemed like she was only asleep for a few minutes, when he woke up again.

“I suppose,” she said, her voice hoarse with fatigue. “I have no right to rest when you are starving.” So she started walking again. She had to think of something. She had no idea where she was going. She had the mark of a Holyslayer on her palm. She could not go back to her own people.

“Perhaps we will have to live in the forest,” she said. He whimpered. Alia suddenly noticed the trees were getting thinner. A sudden thought stuck and she stopped. If they followed the line of trees they were bound to find a village sooner or later. “We can sneak in and get you some food.” She said excitedly, and she began to walk along the edge of the forest.

Dawn was in the air when they finally came to a village. “It will begin to get light soon.” She said, “But we can’t wait, you need food.” He was sleeping now and couldn’t hear her. Now was the perfect time. She moved quickly.

It was not difficult to find the animal pens, but she did not see any goats. She looked at the cows. They would have to do. She did not see any with babies and sighed. That’s when she noticed the building. It probably had tools in it. At least she could get a bucket.

She looked inside the building and waited for her eyes to adjust to the deeper darkness. That’s when she saw the Mother goat and he baby inside a pen. She smiled. She quickly located a bucket and went into the pen. The goat eyed her warily. She eyed the goat warily. She sat down and began to milk.

The baby woke. “Shhhhhh” she picked up the bucket with the small amount of milk she had managed to gather and slipped quickly out of the building. And found herself face to face with five Aerd men, and one woman. They held sharp sticks and knives, and two had swords.

She sunk to her knees as the man in the middle pointed his sword at her. The baby stopped crying. If she had been alone she probably would have no problem with this small group of untrained fighters, but there was no way she could fight them and keep him alive.

They just stood there with their weapons pointed.

“Please,” she uncovered part of the baby and held him outstretched in her arms. “He is an Aerd baby, kill me if you must but don’t harm him.”

The man in front, with the sword, frowned at her in confusion.

“Kill them, it’s a trick!” said a man. Alia did not look up to see who it was.

Tears stung her eyes, “Please,” she sobbed, “I was only trying to get him milk.”

“Kill her! Before she kills us all.” Said the same voice. The man with the sword moved forward.

“Wait,” said another voice. “Why do you care if an Aerd baby lives or dies?”

Alia looked up toward the speaker. It was a small man with black hair and warm brown eyes. They are not born stupid Alia.

She held the baby close and brushed his soft hair back from his face. In his blue eyes she saw the reflection of Ohim’s eye on her forehead. As she stared in his eyes, the image seemed to catch fire and burn. If she told the truth they would take the baby and try to kill her. She could not let that happen.

“He is my son,” she said softly.

©2001 Lyrical Moon