I was grateful since I didn’t think I could take another step. I wished I had some of my now-deceased friend Amara’s healing herbs. My feet ached, and my blisters throbbed. And clearly, thanks to my hot-headed temper, I’d made an enemy in Rusty. I’d have to watch out for him.
Emily, Charlotte, and I were left tied to the wagon. I leaned against the wagon, taking some of the weight off my tired feet, as the soldiers set up half-shelters which they called “dog tents.” The tents were made of a six-foot square piece of sturdy white cloth which they threw over a stick held in place by two other branches with a “Y crotch” at one end. The other end was stabbed into the ground. The ends of the cloths were fastened to the Earth by a stick, making a simple triangle shelter.
A foul-smelling tarred blanket served as the “floor” of the tent. Beyond the smaller shelters, larger cloth structures were erected for the officers.
Would we be given a tent or forced to sleep outside in the freezing cold? At least my dead soldier’s wool coat hadn’t yet been seized.
After the tents were set up, the soldiers removed the harnesses from the horses’ backs and took the loads from the donkeys. The equines were then turned out in a rope-lined field to graze.
Even though my hands were tied behind me, I pushed myself up on the back of the wagon, relieving my aching feet.
Emily and Charlotte stayed standing.
None of us spoke to one another.
Philip said nothing to us from his perch a few yards away. He didn’t ask how his daughters were doing or even utter a word.
“Don’t you even care what happens to your children?” I asked him.
“My family is my business,” he said, turning away. “Mind your own damn business.”
I shook my head at him. What kind of father did not care at all for his daughters?
Soon cooking fires broke out throughout the camp, and the smell of pork, some sort of vegetables, and coffee teased my growing hunger.
Eventually, Bart shuffled over with a pan of food.
“Here.” He tossed the dish on the bed of the wagon. “You three can share some meat and desiccated vegetables. Our captain wants us to keep you alive.”
“How are we supposed to eat it? Our hands are tied,” I said, my stomach growling.
“Figure it out. My only orders were to feed you, not free you.” He spat near my feet as if letting me know what he thought of his captain’s idea.
He glared at me, then turned to Philip, who was still huddled in his wagon. “We’ll be back to deal with you in a bit, Mr. Weston.”
He sauntered away.
I didn’t know about the others, but I was ravenous. I lowered my face to the tin dish and ate some food like a dog.
Emily stared at me, then she did the same.
Charlotte refused to eat.
“Come on, Charlotte,” Emily said, her face smeared with the brownish corn, tomatoes, and greens that made up the meal.
Charlotte shook her head.
I took another bite.
Charlotte still refused to eat, so Emily and I finished the plate, licking it clean.
Afterward, I wiped my face on my shoulder.
We all sat, awaiting our fate.
“What do you think they’ll do with us?” Charlotte whimpered.
Emily pushed her shoulder into her sister and cooed, “We’ll be all right. We didn’t do anything wrong. It’s our father who they want.”
