by Cara Carnes
The walk back to the village was quick and by the time she found Pryna she was prepared for the wrath she knew she would incur. The old woman looked at her, the wrinkles showing on her face even more when she pursed her lips. “I suppose much could have delayed you.”
Melinda nodded and looked away, still battling the urge to cry. It served no purpose. “What could I do to show my feelings for a hunter? I mean… What is the ultimate display of love?”
Pryna laughed. “You, in love?”
Melinda said nothing and merely stared at the area around them, not wanting to look her in the eye. She had never been the type to bare her soul and she could not do so with a woman who thought so little of her.
“Totally besotted. Very well. I will go through this yet again. Maidens participating in the ceremony offer the hunters they are interested in mavera they picked from the ridges. The more colorful mavera are dangerous to pick and are thought to be the true profession of love for a hunter. One of pure color has only been offered once in all of our recorded history,” Pryna said.
Melinda regarded the old woman before her. “What are these maveras you speak of?”
“A sweet, succulent fruit that brings a man’s passions forward,” she said.
An aphrodisiac. Surely they couldn’t be that difficult to pick. “Very well then, I will go and pick some of these colorful maveras.”
The woman laughed. “It is a long journey and you have only half a sun’s cycle to return before the ceremony begins. You will never make it in time. If you hadn’t gone daft on me earlier today you could have made it.”
Melinda shook her head. “I’ll be back in time. I have to be.”
* * * * *
She had underestimated the difficulty of getting to the top. That much became apparent when the thorny branches from the mavera shrubs scraped against her dress. Fortunately Pryna had muttered something about furred leggings before she turned and left, so at least her legs were somewhat protected. But by the time she ascended the mountaintop they would be shredded.
Melinda paused and gazed down at the land Djar called home. The beauty of it overwhelmed her—the color combinations something she was unused to, but she admired the life itself even if it was a bit stone age for her. She needed the luxuries of life, like a shower.
She picked a mavera from one of the shrubs and jumped when she saw Bilbar standing higher up on the incline with his arms crossed and a grin on your face. “I bet you didn’t expect this part, did you?”
Melinda glared at him and continued trudging through the waist-high shrubs that seemed to get denser as she made it further up the hill. Pryna had called it a mountain, but it was certainly much smaller than that. “What the hell are you doing here?”
The man laughed and picked a mavera and bit into it. His loud moan caught her off guard. Wonderful. Alone with a drugged god on a hillside.
“Have you tried these yet?”
“No, and I don’t intend to. I merely intend to pick one of each color and make it back in time for the ceremony,” she said. She stood two feet in front of him and motioned for him to move. “I’m in a hurry.”
“Obviously. Do you really think a piece of fruit will make what happened in the cave okay?” Bilbar asked.
Melinda tossed a piece of fruit at the man. “You watched? You are seriously fucked in the head, you know.”
Bilbar laughed. “I could get you up there faster, you know. All you have to do is ask.”
“No thanks,” she said. She wasn’t about to believe this man had Djar’s best interest in mind. He was untrustworthy and the reason she had to muck through all this in the first place. She should be at home in her soft bed with Djar holding her in his arms.
Melinda paused and looked back at Bilbar. “Why do more of the maidens not make it to the top?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “They make it there. Picking the fruit is another matter.”
That sounded too ominous to be good. Then again, she was learning quickly to think the worst when it came to this whole nightmare. “What does that mean exactly?”
“It isn’t too late to stop, you know,” Bilbar said as she picked three more pieces of fruit and tossed them into the fur bag draped over her shoulder.
Melinda grinned. “I’m more than halfway up this stupid hill. Why the hell would I want to turn around and go back without the fruit?”
“Because no one warned you that if you pick it and do not truly love the one you intend to give it to that you will die,” he said.
That would suck. “Any dangers I should know about with the other fruit along the way?”
Bilbar shook his head. “You haven’t been having a problem so far, which is a good sign.”
Melinda chuckled to herself and picked another fruit, cringing when she felt one of the thorns slice into her left thigh. “No poxes or anything?”
He grinned when she looked at him. Of course there was. “As you get closer, the ailments would get worse, but you aren’t having any problems. This is the area you become infertile in, by the way.”
She laughed. “So do you get these same issues when you eat the fruit?”
“No. They just get more potent as you get higher up the hill,” he whispered. She shuddered at his attempt at a sexy voice.
“You really don’t need to use that voice with me. At least practice it a bit first before you try it again.”
He laughed. “I see why Djar is drawn to you. You have a spirit he would not be used to here. The women from his world are tamer.”
“Why was Djar taken? And the others, for that matter.”
Bilbar shrugged his shoulders. “They were great hunters and swordsmen and we needed that.”
Resentment flooded her. “How could you leave their families not provided for? This society needs every hunter it can get to provide food. I’ve only been here a few hours and see that,” she said.
She tossed another mavera fruit at him. He dodged it and followed her up the hill. “You’ve gotten pretty defensive of a people who cast you in their slums.”
Melinda could understand why though. Food gathering was a difficult task for societies like this in Earth’s history and was bound to be equally difficult here. Providing for extra people would be a tremendous burden. “I can respect them for their beliefs.”
Breathing became more difficult as she approached the top of the hill. Heights had never been her strong suit, but she would do anything for Djar. Surely this proved it. But did she really love him?
* * * * *
Djar seethed as he hacked a chunk of succulent djunka meat off and bit into it. He had been foolish to think Minda differed from the others and could see him as a man first and a hunter second.
“Who brought out your wrath this time?”
Djar glanced over and grunted at his fellow hunter Karl. The man stood next to him and stared at the maidens bathing under the cascading water. “Naught to interest you.”
The man grunted. “Seems as if it happened about the same time you disappeared for a while. Perhaps you inspected a maiden and found her unsuitable?”
Djar laughed and shrugged his shoulders. “Maidens tend to remain here so that all may peruse them. They leave naught to chance and offer mavera to us all. They are fickle.”
Karl laughed. “Aye, but they are comely, are they not?”
Djar detested the mating season most. The females all got clingy and spoke of a lifetime together when they were normally content with letting any hunter rut between their legs. There was not an untouched one among them and all of them had been sampled by the hunters.
He had hoped Minda to be different, but she failed. Sure, she drove him to spill his seed faster than any woman had in all his years and her sweet channel had been tight around his shaft. His cock still throbbed when he thought of how she had clutched him as he filled her.
“You will have your pick of all the maidens first since your arm struck down the mightiest djunka yet,” Karl said. “Who shall it
be?”
“Mayhaps none,” Djar said. He still had two seasons left before a choice must had to be made. Suddenly selecting one seemed a moot point. They were all the same shallow shells he cared little about. He craved fire and passion—what he had seen in Minda’s eyes.
Karl laughed and patted him on the back. “You are a braver soul than I, for I would never go an entire year with the maidens mourning your loss or thinking they stood a chance next year.”
Djar grunted and nodded his head. “More likely I will suffer more wrath from the lesser hunters.”
“Aye, that too.”
Djar looked around and saw no others around them. “You frequent the shanties, aye?”
Karl nodded.
“What do you know of Minda?”
The man laughed. “Pryna’s leech. That old hag keeps the poor girl closed away, yet nags her senseless in public about being unsuitable for a man. Methinks she does not wish her to mate as punishment for her parentals having passed.”
“Why?” Djar asked.
“She died during Minda’s birth and Pryna’s son was unable to withstand the anguish of losing his mate and walked into the gods’ hell,” Karl said.
Djar nodded, remembering the tale of the hunter who begged to die. “Aye, I recall that now. It brought shame to the family and drove them to the shanties for fear that the gods had addled their minds.”
He could feel Karl’s assessing stare on him and then a soft chuckle. “Here comes the old hag herself. Pryna,” he called out.
Djar grumbled and stood to his full height with his back turned away from the swimming maidens. The old woman smiled. “It honors me greatly to be near such a worthy hunter and tribesman.”
Karl laughed when the woman kneeled before Djar. “Aye, worthy he is. Never has a hunter made killing a djunka that big seem so simple.”
Djar glared at his friend for encouraging her. “Please, rise. I understand you have a maiden participating in tonight’s festivities.”
Pryna laughed. “She is far beneath a hunter of your station, Djar. It shames me to even have her attend but perhaps the lowly of the lesser hunters will take pity on her and select her for mating. I fear her advanced cycles make her unable to bear a worthy heir.”
The need to protect Minda from such statements rose up in Djar. Who would dare speak of their blood in such a disdainful way? “Some hunters may find her experience worthy of their notice.”
Pryna smiled. “You honor me with your kind words, but sadly it will not happen as such. I doubt she returns in time anyway. Perhaps the gods have heard my cries of mercy and will rid me of that pox once and for all.”
His heart stopped. “What do you speak of?”
Pryna turned and gazed at the sena mountains. “Addled girl thought to climb to the highest hill and pick the sacred mavera at the top to profess her love to a hunter. What would she know of love?”
Djar glared at the woman. “Did you not warn her of the consequences?”
Pryna laughed. “The twit deserves what may come. All day she has been walking around as if addled by the gods, making everyone believe we are as addled as the tales proclaim.”
Karl cleared his throat and crossed his arms in front of him. “So you sent her off unescorted to the top of the sena mountain knowing she was in need of your care?”
Pryna tensed, her cloudy eyes looking at the hunter. “She merely wishes to disgrace me. I’m sure she will be lying in the grazing field just as I found her this morn. Perhaps she will find her manners and come back less addled.”
Djar braced himself, remembering the few times they had been visited by the gods. The hunters always woke up disoriented and unaware of themselves for days afterward. Could Minda have undergone that as well? Why would a god visit a mere village girl?
He gazed up at the sena hillside, his pulse racing and his brain urging him to go and find her. Fool that he was, he hoped the mavera she intended to pick was for him, yet he could not allow fate to take her life if she was addled. “When did she depart?”
Pryna laughed. “Shortly after she returned to the village from wherever she had wandered off to again. Minda wished me to think her distraught. Her eyes seeped from anguish, yet she cried no tears.”
Guilt flooded him. He was the reason she was anguished and chose the dangerous journey. What had he done?
Chapter Six
Melinda cringed as her legs throbbed with each step she took toward the village. Never had her legs ached so much but she had the damn piece of fruit. Bilbar had vanished with a smile on his face the moment she picked it. If she did not know any better, she would have thought he had been there to distract her from the pain of making it up that hill.
As she approached the village, she focused on her surroundings. The night had crept upon her faster than expected. The trip down had taken much longer—probably because she did not have the blinding fury for Bilbar driving her onward.
“Oh how sad. Look. The shanty girl didn’t even bother preparing for the ceremony.”
Melinda turned to see a group of girls giggling as one of them stepped forward. All the girls wore the same pale pink colored fur, as if it had been dipped in juice from the fruits she hoped never to see again after today. Their long blonde hair was ornamented with flowers from the fields. “Tis so sad you even try anymore, Minda.”
She had no idea who the girl was but had an immediate dislike for her. “I’m not bothering you.”
The girl laughed. “Aye, you are. Because of you my little sister had to wait another year before partaking in the festivities.”
Melinda looked around at the girls as they nodded. “Why?”
The girl glared into her eyes, stepping forward. “You know only so many maidens may participate and you take a position meant for one who stands a chance.”
“Perhaps she lusts for a lesser hunter,” one of the girls taunted. The other girls erupted into laughter.
Melinda focused on flexing her fingers into fists at her sides, demanding herself not to punch the girls. “How dare you. Those hunters you ridicule were injured hunting food for all the villagers, were they not?”
The girls laughed. “Aye. That is why they are lessers. The gods found them to be unworthy and punished them.”
Melinda shuddered with anger. “Nay. They battled an animal much larger than themselves and were victims of fate—the gods had nothing to do with the decision. But you would be too dumb to see beyond yourselves.”
She turned and moved away from the women before she punched them. A wall of male flesh met her eyes when she spun. She looked up. A sense of dread filled her, but she breathed a sigh of relief when she met the curious gaze of a stranger. Thank god it wasn’t Djar. She couldn’t handle seeing him right now, not looking like this.
“Having a problem?” the man asked.
“No, as long as I leave before I lose my temper they will be fine.”
The man laughed loudly and pulled her further away, his glare sending the girls running in the opposite direction. “Who are you?”
“Minda,” she said. She looked around as he led her to the edge of the river nearest the village. “Why are you taking me back here?”
The man stopped and grinned. “Do not concern yourself, Minda. I merely wished to get you away from all the stares of the villagers. I am one of the healers among the hunters and noticed you limping.”
She looked around nervously and felt the warmth spread over her cheeks. “It is nothing,” she said.
His hands grazed the lower part of her dress and she looked down, seeing the nicks and tears in it and the assorted shades of pink that stained the soft fur. “I think you made a trip up the sena mountain.”
Melinda smiled and looked at the hunter. His eyes were softer than she expected, a pale shade of brown. “Many maidens make the journey.”
He laughed as he urged her to sit on a boulder beside the river. “Aye, and they all come whining to us healers with the smallest scrapes. Many don’t min
d seeing their limbs so exposed and available to the touch, though. It has become a game for many of the maidens, but they rarely have so many shades of color on their dress and such deep gashes on their attire.”
Melinda laughed and looked away, choosing to stare at the village behind him rather than look him in the eye. She felt his perusal on her and wondered why he bothered. “I guess I’m clumsier than they are.”
He kneeled before her and placed a bag beside him. “Or you made it a lot further than any others have. I’m Karl.”
Melinda removed the heavy fur from her shoulder and set it on the rock beside her, but couldn’t bring herself to stop touching it. She couldn’t believe she had actually made it to the top and managed to pick that mavera.
She loved Djar. The emotions echoed through her soul. That’s why she’d risked it.
“So you rescue the legs of the fair maidens often? I’m sorry I’m not as fair as they are,” she said.
He grinned and lifted her dress above her knees. She bit her lip when he pulled down the fur boots and began removing them. “I was gifted with the healing touch and would rather help those who truly need it than those who merely wish to show off what they shouldn’t.”
She smiled nervously as his hands softly ran up her calves. “Am I going to live?”
Karl looked up at her, the gentleness he used with her radiating from his eyes. “Never have I seen gashes this deep, Minda. How far did you go up that mountain?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “The distance was not great.”
“I hope the hunter you did this for appreciates it,” he said.
Melinda looked away and touched the bag beside her. “I’m afraid it is for nothing.”
“I don’t think you understand the meaning behind the mavera,” Karl said. “We males are taken from our families at young ages and taught how to hunt and defend for those we love while the females are taught how to seduce us.”
Melinda nodded. “It must be hard to deal with such immature women.”
Karl shook his head. “Shallow. Some of us want women who can think and express their own minds rather than reacting to our thoughts. A true warrior wants someone who can be his equal.”