Avenging Angel A Micro Story Read online

  Contents

  Ancient Matriarchs:

  Ancient Matriarchs:

  Avenging Angel

  A Micro-Story

  By

  Angelique Conger

  ~~~

  The second day progressed, much as the first. Though I enjoyed sleeping by the fire, my older bones and muscles struggled to find comfort on the hard ground, even with the pine needles Adam scraped together for our bed. Hope of a village and a warm bed hurried my feet along the trail.

  Adam stopped suddenly, stretching out his arm to stop me, a finger to his lips. I peered around me, wondering why. I heard the silence of the forest. No birds’ songs rang through the trees. No small animal noises rustled under the brush. What stalked us? Only trouble muted the wild creatures.

  Not a bear. It would be snuffing and roaring in anger. Not wolves. They would howl to their pack. No. Something far more dangerous tracked us. Something, or someone, intent on catching us unaware.

  Adam pushed me into the forest with a nod to a big oak tree. “Hide.”

  Rustling leaves under my feet threatened to give me away. I circled behind a huge oak and clung to it, listening for an attack, frightened for Adam, fearful of attack.

  I stood a long moment straining to hear. Then, it came—a muffled shout. I held my breath, waiting to hear more. Men’s voices filtered through the leaves.

  “He always travels with another. Where is the other?” a deep voice said.

  “Perhaps he travels alone. I have heard he sometimes does,” said a somewhat higher pitched voice.

  “Look around. I have never seen him travel alone.”

  I shrunk behind my oak, hoping they would not dig into the pack and see my clothing. I did not want to be discovered. Adam did not want me found. I heard him mumbling.

  “No ‘un. Mm alone.”

  Why did he not speak clearly?

  I was torn. He needed my help, but he expected me to hide. I listened to his muffled cry and hid behind the tree. I did not want to be captured, too.

  I heard Bork bray. He did not like other people. Only Adam and myself could touch him or the packs on his back. I heard a thump and a shout. No one would look in our packs while they were on Bork. He would not allow it. I exhaled in a huge sigh. They would not see my things, would not know I lingered near, listening.

  “Bedeviled donkey!” the deep-voiced man said. “Leave it. Search among the trees. I will stay with him.”

  I listened to the man who sounded smaller tromp through the brush making no attempt to cover his noise. He came within the length of my body from me and stopped. I stood still, breathing shallowly through my nose. I did not want my breathing to reveal me to him.

  I could see his dark shadow from where I stood. The blob of his head moved back and forth, looking. He shrugged and turned back. When no sign of him were seen, I breathed deeply.

  I waited to hear him report back to the deep-voiced man, and then slipped to the space behind an elm, closer to Adam.

  “Nothin’ out there, Cadge, just him and this blasted creature.”

  “Maybe so, Shet, but we will continue to be watchful.”

  “Umph!”

  Did they hit Adam? They have no right! Shake it off, Eve.

  “Stand up! No need to fall down.”

  I sent a silent prayer to Jehovah, begging for protection and help and crept toward the trail where I left Adam. Bork brayed again. Those men must be dense. They were bothering him again.

  “Ouch. Beast stepped on my foot,” Shet raged.

  “Be quiet and stay away from that animal,” Cadge growled.

  “But—”

  “But, nothing. No need for the donkey. We have him.”

  “But,—”

  “Enough. I told you to leave the ornery beast. We do not need him.”

  The men scuffed through the dirt down the path.

  I followed at a distance, in the grass and behind the trees. When I saw Adam being dragged between them but still upright, I ran back for Bork. He stood cropping the grass, waiting patiently for me to find him.

  “Good old Bork.” I rubbed between his ears. “Thank you for waiting.” I continued speaking softly, the words calming my nerves. “Is there room for me to ride? I need to catch up to Adam. I must help him.”

  I pulled a blanket out and tied it around the hanging and equipment to quiet them. I pushed a pack forward, another back, to make room for me and climbed on his back. Bork shook himself, trying to shake me. Packs were fine, but he did not appreciate the weight of a person on his back.

  I bent low over his ears, and whispered, “I can leave you for the panthers and lions as easily as I can ride you.”

  He snorted and shook his head back and forth. He then stepped forward with no complaints.

  I guided Bork beside the path in the grass where his feet made no sound in our pursuit of Adam and his captors. We soon caught up with the men and Adam. They were so certain of themselves they did not look around and did not see me.

  ~~~

  The afternoon passed in stealthy progression. I rode behind a screen of trees and bushes, hurrying past the infrequent gaps. Bork moved in uncharacteristic quiet, neither braying nor fighting to taste the sweet grasses at his feet. Rivulets of sweat poured down my face, under my arms, and beneath my breasts.

  I caught glimpses of Adam marching between his captors. A cloth bag of some kind swathed his head. A tail of something hung below the edge of the bag, as well. Had they tied something around his mouth? No wonder he was silent.

  The slender man, Shet, spoke in nervous spurts, questioning about the lost donkey or the missing companion. His bigger and older companion, Cadge, ignored him until at last he growled, “Leave it,” and the two continued down the track in silence.

  The men stopped at a tiny meadow and sat beneath a tall oak near where Bork and I stood. They passed a water skin between them, ignoring Adam’s thirst. I stifled the growl of anger threatening to escape. I slid off Bork and led him deeper into the trees and tied his reins to a sapling near a trickling brook, allowing him to eat and drink.

  I moved up the brook a few paces, away from the men in the clearing, and kneeled to scoop water with my hands to drink, aware of the dangers around me. I ignored the hunger pangs within my belly. Adam had no water, no food. We both had lived longer than this without eating. I would survive.

  I walked as silently as the panther with whom I had threatened Bork toward the meadow until I reached the back side of the oak the men leaned against. As they rested and passed the bag between them, their tongues loosened.

  “We will be rewarded well for this service to the master,” Shet said.

  Cadge grunted. I heard him wipe his face with his hand.

  “Master will be happy with us. Do you not think?”

  Cadge heaved a great sigh. “Yes, he will, if we manage to return.”

  “Manage to return? Why is that a problem. He is compliant, follows our orders, and marches down the trail.”

  “He is protected. Some say he can burn at a touch. Others suggest hidden guards. I obey the master, but I do not like this task.”

  Shet laughed. “Burn at a touch? I have never heard . . .”

  “No? Then touch him.” Cadge taunted.

  “You are jesting. We have held his arms this whole way.”

  “And tied his hands together so he could not touch us. Touch his hands.”

  I had heard stories of Adam burning men who tried to hurt him with his touch before. This was nothing to play with. Would Shet be burned? I held my breath in anticipation of Adam’s release.

  Leaves rustled, as if someone scooted forward, then it stopped.

  “Not going to touc
h him?”

  “Nah. I do not need to.”

  I quietly expelled my breath. Adam would not be released. Not yet. My internal prayers continued, pleading for help. How could I help free my good husband?

  As I sat behind the tree, the sun dropped in the sky and a sunbeam shone in my eyes. I closed my eyes and turned my head.

  The men settled back against the tree.

  Cadge aimed a shout at Adam. “You, settle down. We will not move again for a while. We wait.”

  Wait? What do they wait for?

  If they waited for more men to join them, or for their “master” I had no time to wait. I eased back into the trees away from these men and to the thicket where I left Bork. He lifted his head in question, but made no bray of welcome. I untied his reins and climbed on his back, among our travel supplies.

  I rode cautiously around the meadow. The sun moved ever closer to setting. When I reached the opposite edge of the clearing, the sun shone at my back. I dismounted and stared across the meadow, determining the path I would take. I had time, though not much, before the sun would be right. I pulled my belt knife and searched for a length of wood, something to use as a weapon.

  I found a tree branch, gnawed away from the trunk by a beaver. One end still covered with dried leaves, the thick end gnawed into a sharp point. I tucked the knife into its sheath and broke away the small twigs and leaves, leaving a solid end for me to hold. I carried this back to Bork at the edge of the clearing.

  The brightness of the setting sun reached its peak. If I waited longer, I would miss my opportunity. I mounted the donkey, lifted the branch, and kicked him with the wild scream of a panther. Bork reacted as I expected. He ran away from the danger into the clearing, toward the men on the opposite side, braying in fear. I held onto my branch with one hand, the reins with the other, and strained to keep my knees taut against the frightened donkey.

  Adam struggled up with the sound. His captors screamed something I did not understand and fell to their knees as I raced toward them. The distance between us narrowed.

  “For Jehovah!” I shouted.

  Adam turned toward me, waiting. The men bent down, burying their heads in their hands. As Bork and I dashed past, I dropped the reins and grabbed for Adam. Somehow, I carried him with us, past the oak and into the trees. Bork’s fear carried us deep into the forest before he finally tired and came to a stop.

  ~~~

  I uncurled my arm and let Adam lean against the donkey while I jumped off. The bag across his head had come off. I fumbled to remove the cloth shoved into his mouth and tied behind his head. The knot had grown tight. In my frustration, I pulled out my knife, set it between Adam’s head and the cloth, and slit it. It fell away and Adam spit out a thick wad. I then cut away the ties binding his hands.

  “Drink?” he gasped.

  I grabbed our water skin and lifted it to his lips, giving him small sips. He took the skin from me and drank deeply.

  “You will be sick.” I reached for the skin.

  “No. I need water.” He drank another long gulp.

  I watched him drink a moment, then turned to a pack on Bork’s back. I untied a knot and dug inside for apples, cheese, and dried meat. Adam took his share and sat on the ground with his back against an elm. I sat beside him and ate in silence.

  Adam stared at me with a look of awe. “How did you manage to strike fear into those men?”

  I shrugged. “They must not be intelligent. I stood behind them as they spoke, on the other side of the oak,” I said. “They spoke of their master and the reward they may receive. Cadge taunted Shet to touch you. I hoped he would, for I knew Jehovah would send his power through you into them.”

  “I, too, waited for the touch, feeling the surge of Jehovah’s love for me. When he chose not to touch me, I slumped down. I did not know how to escape them before their master arrived.” Adam looked at the uneaten apple in his hands. “They spoke of burning, later. My burning as a sacrifice to the Destroyer.”

  A quiver ran down my spine. “I did not hear that. I must have been gone by then. A thought filled my mind, showing me a way to free you. I rode to the opposite side of the little clearing you sat in, waiting for the sun to set.”

  Adam nodded and bit into the apple. “They waited for dark and their master. Of course, he would want the dark.”

  I gazed into his bright blue eyes. “I missed your eyes.”

  “I missed seeing with them. What did you do?”

  I sat closer to him and he curled his arm around my shoulders. “I waited for the sunset.”

  “How would the beauty of reds and purples help you save me?” I heard the teasing in his voice.

  “Not reds and purples. See, they are gold and orange.” I pointed to the sky. “No. I waited for the last bright rays to shine. I counted on them to blind those men to my real identity. I found a heavy branch, chewed by the beavers into a point, and thought I could at least bash them with it.” I pointed to the branch, now lying on the ground. “When the sun shone directly behind me, I screamed like a panther to frighten Bork and help him race toward you. Then, I clung to my branch and Bork’s back as we galloped across the clearing.”

  “Ah. That is why.”

  “Why? What?” I turned to look at his face.

  He traced my face with his finger. “Why they cried what they did.”

  “And that was?”

  “The Avenging Angel. They thought you were an Avenging Angel come to take them. With the sun shining through your hair and all around you, your branch in your hand, they feared you. I heard them grovel at my feet, praying for protection. Of course, not to Jehovah who could save them.”

  He kissed me softly. “My Avenging Angel with soft lips.”

  “My desire to rescue you from them, and their master, kept me going. I have no idea how I managed to catch you and cling to you in Bork’s dash into the forest.” I sat straight. “How did that happen?”

  “You were there, your hand reached around me, and I rose into the air. You do not have the strength to carry me in one arm, yet you did.” His look of awe returned.

  I looked at my left arm. I had carried many babies in that arm, it held strength for many a fighting toddler. But a man?

  Adam kissed me again. “You had help from Jehovah.”

  “I prayed constantly until I left the edge of the trees. He heard me?”

  “Of course, he did. I am here. I, too, prayed for protection, for rescue. I never expected the rescue to come from you, my Avenging Angel.”

  “I could not let them take you, my beloved.” I gazed into his face.

  “We must thank Jehovah.” He drew me with him to kneel, then offered a sweet prayer of gratitude.

  ~~~

  The next morning we passed by the little clearing. Adam led the way in. Beside the oak where they had rested, a black, burned space filled the air with an ugly scent.

  Adam pointed to the blotch on the earth. “Their master paid them for their services.”

  I swallowed my bile and turned away.

  We traveled across the meadow and into the trees. There we encountered a dam being built by the beavers. Branches like the one I carried were woven into it. The little stream filled behind it, creating a small pond.

  The remainder of our journey seemed quiet. I sat on the edges of crowds with the women, while Adam taught our grandchildren of Jehovah’s love. Frequently, I rocked a fussy babe, giving her mama a quiet moment to listen to the words of love from Jehovah. Usually, the child fell asleep in my arms and the mama would look at me in wonder.

  “She never sleeps for others,” the mama would say, or “He does not like people he does not know.” Most often, I heard, “How did you do that?”

  My usual response, “I have loved little ones for many years. They sense my love and trust me to protect them.”

  After four weeks of traveling among our lost grandchildren, gathering a few back into the fold, we once again stood above Home Valley. Our little house stoo
d with the others, glistening in the sunshine. I stood looking, indecision tearing me. I sighed.

  “What is wrong?” Adam lifted the hand he held and kissed my fingers.

  “I love being alone with you, traveling with you, and teaching our grandchildren. I want it to go on.”

  “Yet, you miss your house, and your children, your dishes, your bed, all the things that make this home.”

  I stared into his deep blue eyes. “How do you know?”

  “Each time I return and stand looking down at this place, those same desires rack my soul. I need to be away, teaching our grandchildren, but you and home call more strongly. Come. Let us enjoy the comforts of home and family.”

  Together we walked down into the valley, hand in hand with Bork trailing behind, to surround ourselves once more with home, family, and love.

  ~~~

  Dear Reader,

  If you liked this story, you may also like the story from which it follows: Ancient Matriarchs: Eve, First Matriarch, giving you more information about Eve and Adam as they worked to make the earth a place for their family.

  You can find Eve, First Matriarch on Amazon in both paperback and kindle versions here.

  Other books in the Ancient Matriarchs series:

  Into the Storms: Ganet, Wife of Seth

  Finding Peace: Rebecca, Wife of Enos

  Moving into Light: Zehira, Wife of Enoch

  Lost Children of the Prophet series

  Lost Children of the Prophet (Book 1)

  Captured Freedom (Book 2) coming soon

  As always, if you leave a short review, even, “I liked it” helps an author as she moves forward in her writing career. The only place to review this story is on Goodreads. I would appreciate your honest opinion on the site where you received this micro-story and any others you may read.

  Thank you, and enjoy.

  Angelique Conger

 

 

  Angelique Conger, Avenging Angel A Micro Story

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