031 - Steven’s Call To Compassion

Journal of Steven Caplan: Day 13

OODA-Orient: Cultural Traditions, Genetic Heritage, Previous Experience, Analysis & Synthesis, New Information. What kind of culture is this that has such traditions?

Caspian and Steven had passed several highland farms and ranches, and were now approaching the central village of this area, walking on its main road. As they passed a stand of trees, Steven noticed a young woman tied to a stake in the ground. Caspian also noticed, but then passed on. Steven turned aside and knelt to look at her. She was out cold, or asleep, using most of the rope for a pillow. She was a young woman, and small, probably less than 5 foot by Steven’s reckoning. She wore a leather shirt, leather girdle, home-spun trousers, and leather boots. Her hair was very dark brown, with some sun streaks in it, and tied back with a kerchief. Her plain features were tanned, but showing a burn right now.

She had the rope tied around her left ankle, the other end secured to a stake in the ground. The circle inscribed by the length of rope included a small bush off the side of the trail, but was otherwise barren of growth and shade. Farther out was the edge of the clearing, allowing some shade, but not in the middle. The road Caspian and Steven traveled passed by, but did not cross the circle.

Steven moved to free the woman.

“You don’t want to do that,” Caspian warned.

“Why?” Steven had his knife out, to cut the rope at her ankle.

“She is here for punishment. If she really wanted to leave, she could have. She is wearing her own knife.”

“Leaving her here to die of thirst is not punishment. It’s torture.”

Steven laid her out. He then poured a little water into her mouth. After a bit, she stirred, but did not awake.

“I guess she is from this village?”

“Most likely, or the surrounding farms.” Caspian just stood by, not trying to help a wit. “And now that you have cut her loose, and began to care for her, you have just created a bit of trouble for us.”

Caspian sighed, shrugged, and then turned to inspect the trees. He then pulled his bush knife from his belt, and lopped two branches from the trees. Both were about half again as long as he was tall. Next, he lopped most of the smaller branches off these, leaving the few on one side to form a bit of a bed.

Steven pulled out his blankets, and laid the largest one out. He then put the branches across it with their few remaining limbs in the middle. The blanket was then folded over the branches to form a bed. Steven then laid the young woman on it, and wrapped the blanket the rest of the way around, adding his second blanket to the roll, to hold her in. The branches extended easily beyond either end.

“Take the other end, and we will be off.” Steven stood at the girl’s head, ready to pick up the short end of the makeshift stretcher.

“No. She is your problem. Those are long enough to drag. You just need a bit of a yoke.” Caspian pulled a length of leather strap from his bag, and handed it to Steven.

“I don’t believe you. You would just leave her here to die?” Steven was incredulous.

“This is not our concern. She was here for a reason. Getting involved like this will only make things worse. And I won’t do it.”

Steven took the leather strap, measured it, and tied it into a loop that ran over his shoulders, and down by either hand. He then knelt and put the loops around the ends of the branches. Lifting the end up, he stood, being sure that the woman did not slide out.

“Fine. But I thought you helped those in need.” Steven shifted the strap to balance the load, still looking accusingly at Caspian. “Let’s get going.”

Steven then set out, walking past Caspian, dragging the travois behind him. He did not have to take it far.

They passed one more meadow and were at the edge of a farming village. Steven dragged his burden to what appeared to be the town square. Here he lay her back down and was accosted by what passed for local law enforcement, who had followed from a shop at the edge of town.

“Who are you, and why are you bringing her here?” Steven looked the man over. He was a head and a bit shorter, but considerably thicker than Steven; his garb seemed to Steven to denote that of a smith. His face looked to be perpetually sunburned, with a liberal application of ash and slag rubbed in, which also coated his leather apron. His soot covered hair was scraggly and long, tied back by something that only kept about 3/4ths of it back. The rest just floated about his head.

Steven remembered his last encounter with any police. This guy might not be so patient. “My name is Steven. I was traveling in this direction, when I found her tied to a stake in the ground. She needs healing.”

The smith did not even look at her. “Did she ask you to do this?”

Steven shook his head. “No. She has not aroused since I first found her. If she does not get help soon, she could die.”

The smith continued to look unconcerned. “If that is what she chooses.”

Now Steven was annoyed. “What happened to human decency? Doesn’t anybody care for anybody here?”

Caspian stepped in. “Steven, I tried to tell you. She was there for a reason. None of these people were helping her there, they won’t help you here.”

The smith spoke again. “If you help her, she becomes your responsibility. As a stranger I can give you this much. Put her back, or keep her.” He folded his arms, and puffed his chest out at Steven.

Steven looked around, seeing that several passers-by had stopped to watch and see. In passing he realized again that he was taller than everybody, by a good margin.

“You’re saying that just by trying to get her help, she becomes my responsibility. How’s that?” Steven was increasingly incredulous.

The smith continued his huff. “She was out there as punishment. If you are going to interfere with that, she becomes your responsibility. Take her with you, or put her back.”

Steven looked around, considering what to do. He looked at Caspian, but got no help there. He looked around, and finally saw one person looking more than impassive. A woman with a basket of shopping in her hands, looking concerned. The woman caught Steven looking at her, and abruptly turned and walked away. That settled it for him.

“Get me your healer.”

The smith shrugged. Then turned and walked away.

“Caspian, do you know anything that could help?”

“No. That is not my kind of magic. But I don’t think she needs magic. Just some proper care and food.” Caspian shrugged his shoulders.

Steven blew out a big breath, and sat down. “If we leave her here?”

“She is yours now. If you leave her here, they will ignore her, and she will die.”

“Wonderful. So now I have to see to her while traveling to find Rox.” Steven stood up. “Did you see the woman with the basket?”

“Yes. You noticed that she seemed to be the only person concerned. Cyrril is following her right now. Probably the girl’s mother,” Caspian speculated.

Steven looked where she went. “Let’s go see if she will help.”

He turned to pick up the end of the travois, when a large, grubby, middle aged man got Steven’s attention. This man was all but stomping at them.

Caspian seemed to notice him at the same time as Steven. “Who is this?”

Steven put the travois down as the man approached. The man swung at Steven, who blocked it without thinking and slugged the man dropping him to the ground where he stood.

Steven stepped away, careful of the travois. “What was that about?”

Caspian just stood by, watching curiously, and then knelt down next to the girl.

The grubby man got back to his feet. “I won’t let you have her. She’s mine.”

Steven cocked his head. At another time he might have found a way to relieve himself of this, but that did not seem right, now. “Oh, really? Then why weren’t you seeing to her needs? I found her out there nearly ready to die.”

The girl’s weak voice answered Steven’s question. “I will not accept his help. I will not have him.”

“That is not for you to decide. Your father and I settled the matter.” The man tried to move to lay hands on her.

Steven just stood in his way. “It seems to me that she already made her decision, and that is the one that matters. Otherwise, she would not have been where I found her. I am a stranger here. But I gather that she is my responsibility now.” Steven did his best to look as imperious as he could, summoning all his Marine Pride, standing to full height and stature.

The grubby man shrunk a bit, but was not ready to give up the issue. “She has no say in the matter. This was already settled between her father and me. She is my wife now.” He turned his attention to her. “You had better learn that. That is why you were out there.”

Steven could hear Caspian quietly chanting over the girl. But his primary attention was on this thug, and how to end this situation. Then a thought whispered to him. “Was the union consummated?”

This caught the grubby man off guard. “What?”

Steven knew that he had found a crack. Now to exploit it. “Have you slept with her? Have you been naked with her, and had her?”

Steven had no idea what the local euphemism was, but his question seemed to get across, and kick his opponent where it counted. The man turned red with anger, and slipped into apoplexy.

She answered the question, with a laugh that seemed to cut deeper into the man’s ego than anything Steven could do.

“Well, then. Since I am the one currently caring for her, and you being refused of her, I don’t think you have any claim. Now stand aside, before you get hurt.” Steven had softened his voice, to the condescending tone used to address one who was not bright enough to understand anything more.

Like a bubbling mud pot, the man finally boiled over and again tried to attack Steven. But the fight was over before it began. In three swift motions Steven had him on the ground, gasping for air and grasping between his legs in a private world of hurt.

At that, Steven rolled him over to face the other way.

Caspian had stood back up, and looked a bit amused by what happened. Steven looked down at the girl. Her dark eyes looked up at him in gratitude, and she managed a week smile.

Steven then picked up the end of the travois, and dragged it out of the square. Caspian directed them to where Cyrril was, at the house of the girl’s family. Her father was not home, but her mother was, and had been the woman with the basket. She quickly and graciously provided Steven with some food, herbs, and medicines and the girl’s things including a bedroll, shoulder bag and rucksack. Caspian, being the bag holder, repaid the woman, and they were on their way before more trouble could find them.

That night, when they finally stopped for camp, Steven’s arms and shoulders were quite sore. The girl had drifted at the edge of awake much of the time, but not really into coherence. Caspian and Steven made camp, and put together a soup rich with the herbs from the mother. The girl drank most of the broth, and then collapsed into real sleep.

Steven realized that he did not yet know her name, as he went to sleep.