Nityez had not slept all night. She sat inside the tent, her wide, pale eyes fixed on the man who had kidnapped her, watching the white vapor spill from his mouth each time he exhaled, mingling with the drool that ran down into his filthy beard. Now, with the birds beginning to sing, she knew dawn was near.
Suddenly the man began to sweat. Beads of perspiration gathered on his forehead and, despite the cold inside the tent, froze almost at once. His breathing quickened. Nityez continued to watch him without the slightest reaction in the dim light of the feeble oil lamp.
Then the bandit jerked upright in terror and broke into sobs.
Nityez studied him as he wept like a child who had lost his mother.
“Now that you’re awake,” she said, “we can get ready to leave.”
The man wiped his face with his coarse, oversized, filthy hands, clearing away his tears and the saliva that had run from his mouth in sleep. He said nothing to the little girl. He merely turned and looked at her.
As he gathered the tent and blankets, the bandit noticed Nityez sitting silently on a rock outside, her wrists bound tightly. After throwing their belongings into the wagon, he walked over and stood above her.
“If you promise you won’t run, I’ll untie your hands,” he said.
Just then, a flock of magpies settled onto the branches of the old beech tree beneath which Nityez had been sitting. Its branches were thick with snow. The birds waited for scraps left behind by the night’s guests, hoping to make a meal of whatever they could find.
Then a murder of crows came rushing toward the tree, driving the magpies from their perches. In an instant, the campsite became a battlefield of wings and feathers.
Nityez gave the man no answer.
Even so, the bandit loosened the rope around her thin wrists. He carried her to the wagon and roughly dropped her into the makeshift bed built on its wheels.
As he climbed onto the driver’s bench, he turned to make sure the girl was still there. He saw Nityez playing with her hands as though she were filling them with something, lost in a childlike world of her own.
Across the road, Kumap was asleep.
The bandit, however, had spent the entire night awake, watching the little girl sleep like a small white angel. He could not sleep because of the strange feeling growing inside him—a feeling that he had to protect her.
Despite being exhausted, he felt strangely alert.
He gently woke the girl. Taking care not to frighten her, he told her it was time to leave.
The birds were chirping. The insects and small creatures were stirring. It would be light in a matter of moments.
The bandit loosened the ropes around the girl’s delicate wrists. Then he pointed his index finger at her face.
“Don’t even think about running,” he warned her in a fatherly tone. “Otherwise, we’re going to have a problem.”
Kumap blinked, letting him know she understood the bargain.
When the man lifted the little girl into his arms and placed her in the wagon bed, she gently opened her arms away from her body.
Between those slender arms, the white skein of wool was becoming a black ball in Nityez’s hands.
“Giddup!”
The crack of the whip sent the wagon rolling.
II
When the wagon entered Edgin, the bandit pulled on the reins and brought the horses to a halt. He removed his hat and brushed the snow from it.
When he turned around, he saw a ball of black wool in Nityez’s hands, and the girl quietly winding the yarn.
He hesitated for a moment, unable to make sense of what he was seeing, then returned his attention to his own business.
“I’m going to see if I can find someone at the inn who’ll buy you. Behave yourself while you’re with me. Don’t cause any trouble.”
His long black hair cast a shadow across the scar on his face, making him look even more frightening.
Nityez acknowledged him with her eyes.
*
When the wagon entered Edgin, the bandit pulled back on the reins and stopped the horses. He removed his hat and wiped the sweat gathering on his forehead with a dirty handkerchief.
When he turned around, he saw that some of the white skein of wool in Kumap’s arms seemed to have disappeared.
He stared for a moment, unable to make sense of what he was seeing. Then he wondered if the hashish he had smoked on the road was playing tricks on his mind.
He quickly pulled himself together and returned to his business.
“I’m going to see if there’s someone at the inn who’ll buy you. Behave yourself while you’re with me. If you don’t cause any trouble, everything will be easy.”
He smiled softly.
Then, for a moment, something tender passed over his face.
“We’re almost at the end of our journey, little white girl.”
He swept his long black hair back and put his hat on again.
Kumap acknowledged him with her eyes.
The area in front of Wilhelm Keitel’s Bar was crowded.
A thin driver in a tall, cylindrical hat was visible atop the stagecoach, where the body of a woman had been tied lengthwise across the roof. Below stood an elegant woman, a man, and two children of about eleven.
The bandit introduced himself.
The driver on top of the coach straightened his clothes and climbed down. He approached the bandit, who was still sitting on the driver’s bench, and stared directly into his eyes.
At that moment, Nityez rose in the back of the wagon, the black ball of wool in her hands.
Her eyes met those of the woman standing beside the coach door, idly playing with the lace of her mantilla.
Seeing the girl standing behind the wagon like a shadow, the woman could not restrain herself. She raised her voice against the cold wind and shouted,
“Mr. Autrom, please introduce the little girl to us!”
Mr. Autrom turned toward her.
“Of course, Mrs. Tahabes.”
Carefully lifting the little girl down from the back of the wagon, Mr. Autrom untied the ropes around her feet and led Nityez toward Mrs. Tahabes.
The woman was struck by the child’s gaze as though someone had pulled the pin from a bomb inside her.
Tears streamed down her face.
She asked the bandit to give the child to her.
The bandit seemed unwilling to remain any longer in the snow, which was rapidly turning into a blizzard. He wanted his four silver coins and wanted to get inside Wilhelm Keitel’s before the storm grew worse.
Neven and Natan exchanged a glance, pulled a rose from the bouquet, and followed the bandit inside.
A short while later, the bandit had become another piece of the cemetery within.
He was a corpse slumped on a barstool, a whiskey glass before him, a rose tucked into his collar, and a deep horizontal cut across his throat.
*
The bandit introduced himself and the little girl beside him, who seemed almost to radiate light.
The driver on top of the coach straightened his clothes and climbed down.
Because he was sweating, he removed his hat, revealing a thin face, a hooked nose, and a high, exposed forehead.
He approached the bandit, who was still seated on the driver’s bench, and stared directly into his eyes.
“What is it you want, sir?” he asked.
At that moment, Kumap rose in the back of the wagon, the white skein of wool held in her arms.
She caught the eye of the woman standing by the stagecoach door, fanning herself with a handkerchief against the cool air.
Seeing the girl standing behind the wagon like a lantern, the woman cried out excitedly,
“Mr. Autrom, please introduce the little girl to us!”
Mr. Autrom turned toward her.
“Of course, Mrs. Tahabes.”
Kumap gave Mrs. Tahabes a small curtsy.
The two looked at one another with affection.
The bandit politely explained that he expected a few silver coins for the child.
Mrs. Tahabes took several coins from her small purse and placed them in the bandit’s palm.
As he parted from Kumap, the bandit looked at her one last time.
“She’s a very well-behaved child, Mrs. Tahabes,” he said. “Please treat her well.”
Then he climbed into his wagon and slowly rode away.
ANARCHISTALES 