Read Online Earthbound: Science Fiction in the Old West (Chronicles of the Maca Book 1) by Mari Collier - Free Book Online
Authors: Mari Collier
Ads: Link
one.
Chapter 13: The Mad Woman
“Schwein Hunds!” Anna screamed at the women around her as they ripped and cut her clothes away from her body.
The Comanche women did not understand the vile insult of pig dogs and words of damnation she was spewing at them. They wanted her in clothes like theirs. There wasn't much left of her clothes after that hellish two week journey to the Comanche camp. Anna wanted to strike them, bruise them, destroy them, but her arms weren't free. She was holding Auggie, and striking at them meant she would need to put him down. They would trample him or take him from her, and he still needed her milk.
They had already taken Daniel. The man he was riding with kept going once they were in camp. A chanting Comanche woman had trotted beside his horse. Auggie was fussing for she was holding him tight against her body and he was hungry. She hadn't been given much in the way of water or food on the journey here and her milk output had shrunk. These women were fiends, laughing at her, at her clothes, and then it was over and she was naked.
One knife pricked too deeply at her ribs and red rage engulfed her. She grasped Auggie tightly in her left arm and smashed her right elbow down into the woman's face. She towered over them as no Indian woman matched her five feet ten inches in height.
Her worst fear was realized when someone grabbed Auggie. She was taken down to the ground by a group of screaming witches, and suddenly the attack stopped. The women were looking at her wide eyed for her menstrual period had started and blood was running down her leg.
They dragged her into the segregated tent for women and several Comanche women entered. One was pushed forward while an older woman spoke in Comanche.
“Stop fighting them,” the pushed forward one hissed in English. She was dark-haired, brown-eyed, tanned from the Texas sun, but white. “We will make you a human. One of our brave warriors has chosen you as a mate for your courage and strong boys.”
“They are mine.” Anna was screaming. “Gott gave to me them. Vhy are du helping them? Du are vhite.”
The woman glared at her. “I am Comanche.” She threw the buckskin dress at Anna. “Cover your body.”
Then the woman pointed at the pile of cattails. “Open them and use them for the flow. When it stops, you'll be allowed out. If you don't calm down there won't be any food and very little water.”
“My baby needs my milk.” Anna was speaking slowly to get the English words out correctly.
“You have no more children. They are with their new families. You must never go near them again. The baby is going with his family to a different group.”
Anna threw herself at the speaker intent on destroying her tormentor. She used fists, elbows, and kicks as though she were still fighting her twin when they were growing up. Her blows were hard and the attack furious.
“Mein sohns,” she kept shouting. “Mein sohns!”
The two white women in the group thought she was screaming, “mine sons,” which was exactly what Anna was saying. They explained to the older woman why Anna was so upset. At first her face softened, then hardened.
“Hold her down,” she commanded.
It took six of the women to accomplish this while Anna continued to struggle and scream damnation at them. The older woman held a knife in her hand.
“Explain to her we understand her grieving for those children are dead to her. When Comanche women grieve for their sons they show their loss by giving part of themselves.”
This was duly translated.
“Now hold one hand down.” The old woman bent and with one expert stroke sliced off the end of Anna's right little finger.
The pain was so unexpected it stilled Anna for a moment, but only a moment. She almost heaved herself free.
“The next hand,” commanded the woman. Just as quickly she cut the end of the left little finger off at the knuckle.
“Hold up her hair.” Anna's long, curly dark tresses had come unbound. It
Chapter 13: The Mad Woman
“Schwein Hunds!” Anna screamed at the women around her as they ripped and cut her clothes away from her body.
The Comanche women did not understand the vile insult of pig dogs and words of damnation she was spewing at them. They wanted her in clothes like theirs. There wasn't much left of her clothes after that hellish two week journey to the Comanche camp. Anna wanted to strike them, bruise them, destroy them, but her arms weren't free. She was holding Auggie, and striking at them meant she would need to put him down. They would trample him or take him from her, and he still needed her milk.
They had already taken Daniel. The man he was riding with kept going once they were in camp. A chanting Comanche woman had trotted beside his horse. Auggie was fussing for she was holding him tight against her body and he was hungry. She hadn't been given much in the way of water or food on the journey here and her milk output had shrunk. These women were fiends, laughing at her, at her clothes, and then it was over and she was naked.
One knife pricked too deeply at her ribs and red rage engulfed her. She grasped Auggie tightly in her left arm and smashed her right elbow down into the woman's face. She towered over them as no Indian woman matched her five feet ten inches in height.
Her worst fear was realized when someone grabbed Auggie. She was taken down to the ground by a group of screaming witches, and suddenly the attack stopped. The women were looking at her wide eyed for her menstrual period had started and blood was running down her leg.
They dragged her into the segregated tent for women and several Comanche women entered. One was pushed forward while an older woman spoke in Comanche.
“Stop fighting them,” the pushed forward one hissed in English. She was dark-haired, brown-eyed, tanned from the Texas sun, but white. “We will make you a human. One of our brave warriors has chosen you as a mate for your courage and strong boys.”
“They are mine.” Anna was screaming. “Gott gave to me them. Vhy are du helping them? Du are vhite.”
The woman glared at her. “I am Comanche.” She threw the buckskin dress at Anna. “Cover your body.”
Then the woman pointed at the pile of cattails. “Open them and use them for the flow. When it stops, you'll be allowed out. If you don't calm down there won't be any food and very little water.”
“My baby needs my milk.” Anna was speaking slowly to get the English words out correctly.
“You have no more children. They are with their new families. You must never go near them again. The baby is going with his family to a different group.”
Anna threw herself at the speaker intent on destroying her tormentor. She used fists, elbows, and kicks as though she were still fighting her twin when they were growing up. Her blows were hard and the attack furious.
“Mein sohns,” she kept shouting. “Mein sohns!”
The two white women in the group thought she was screaming, “mine sons,” which was exactly what Anna was saying. They explained to the older woman why Anna was so upset. At first her face softened, then hardened.
“Hold her down,” she commanded.
It took six of the women to accomplish this while Anna continued to struggle and scream damnation at them. The older woman held a knife in her hand.
“Explain to her we understand her grieving for those children are dead to her. When Comanche women grieve for their sons they show their loss by giving part of themselves.”
This was duly translated.
“Now hold one hand down.” The old woman bent and with one expert stroke sliced off the end of Anna's right little finger.
The pain was so unexpected it stilled Anna for a moment, but only a moment. She almost heaved herself free.
“The next hand,” commanded the woman. Just as quickly she cut the end of the left little finger off at the knuckle.
“Hold up her hair.” Anna's long, curly dark tresses had come unbound. It
Similar Books
