By the end of the day, Kara didn’t know which was worse—sitting on a satyr’s bony backbone, which could still be felt despite the three folded blankets underneath her, or walking on painfully blistered feet. On the positive side, the sun's heat no longer made her feel ill. She was adjusting.
Farah noticed Kara's feet when she brought them food, and later, after they'd finished eating, she returned with a strong-smelling salve. The cream brought back memories of the awful smelling poultices Yleni had used on her leg and ankle.
The next day, thanks to Farah's wonder cream, she walked by Rishi’s side without any problems. More herbs to find out about, she thought. Another reason to stay, one part of her mind noted. As they walked, she couldn’t help noticing that Rishi's height and good looks drew admiring glances from the women and envious ones from the men.
Farah informed her that the Eastern Desert Maruts had reputations as the fiercest warriors among all the tribes. “And the best lovers,” she added with a saucy smile.
Kara blushed, and looked away in embarrassment. The brief time she and Miklo had shared living quarters, the two of them had eaten and slept in the same space yet he had shared nothing of himself with her. This relationship with Rishi was different. Unable to control her feelings, she knew she was falling in love with him. The longer they were together, the more she wanted to stay, and the farther away the colony and her former life seemed.
They set off the next day with Kara riding the satyr and Rishi holding the reins. Halfway through the morning, just as she was adjusting nicely to the animal’s rolling gait, the convoy ground to a halt. Something was happening up front, but from where they were near the back of the convoy, she could see little.
“What’s going on?” Kara asked as the surrounding families erupted into agitated chatter, casting worried looks at each other. Something had happened up ahead, and word was spreading, a stone thrown into a lake rippling out from the point of impact.
“I don’t know.” Rishi stood with his head to one side, his eyes half closed as he listened. “It’s something to do with the tribe they were waiting for. Stay here.” He handed her the satyr’s rope and joined the men moving toward the front.
Kara slid off the animal, and waited with most of the women and children and the carts. Lulled by the ride, she'd been daydreaming, and wondering what her life would be like if she did stay with Rishi. Thinking about her previous life made her realize how strong her feelings were about him. Yet there was no way he could live on the base. The thought of him in the Academy brought a smile to her lips. He'd demolish everyone in the martial arts and weapons training, but she didn’t see him sitting at desk. If she stayed here, she could continue researching the planet's flora and fauna. She would return periodically with her results, but live out here, with the Maruts, with Rishi. Somehow or other, she’d given Rishi her heart. No one had ever made her feel as alive as she did when she was with him. The closeness, the intimacy, the knowledge he would always protect her was a new experience. Her parents must have had this before her mother died. No wonder her father had mourned her loss.
When Rishi returned, his eyes were guarded, and his jaw was tight with tension.
‘What’s wrong?’
He leaned close, and spoke in her ear. “A catastrophe. When the mountain shook, half of it collapsed and buried many of the tribespeople in the cave.”
Chapter Eighteen: Refugees
Marut Law:
Those who have suffered tragic loss must be offered all assistance and treated as our own.
The image of the two warriors brandishing their spears in anger sprang to Kara’s mind.
"What's left of their tribe is camped out beyond the debris,"' Rishi told her.
"Debris?"
"They're saying the mountain shook, killing the people inside the cave and burying their supplies. The peak collapsed and half the mountain is strewn over a large area."
"We didn't cause it, did we?"
"You think we can bring down mountains?" He pulled her close, smelling her hair.
"Maybe our entrance into the cave triggered a defense mechanism?"
"No. Even you, a woman whose race comes from the stars, is not that powerful." His expression turned grim. "Remember, we must not talk about this till we’re back with Ikeya. One more week. Not even a whisper. Promise me?"
She nodded. Unlike Rishi, she had no reason to mistrust Hitam, other than a personal antipathy, but she trusted his instincts.
When they reached the rim of the hill, the cavalcade slowed and they descended the trail to the plain below in single file.
Kara observed the effects of the earthquake and resulting landslide, fixing the image in her mind. The mountain looked as if a giant hand had scooped out half its innards, and where previously a smooth peak had stood, she saw a crater full of large boulders and rubble. The part of the mountain that had crumbled lay spread out some distance into the desert. The landscape had changed beyond recognition, although the devastated mountain would be easy to locate.
At the time of the upheaval, families had been setting up camp or getting supplies from the cave. In both cases, they'd been too near to escape the mass of earth and rock descending on them. Those tending the animals, and others on the edge of the camp had fled at the initial tremors and escaped. Tears of relief ran down their faces as they gawped at the arrivals.
Hitam cut a dashing figure with his colorful robes flaring out as he pushed his animal to a gallop down the slope, and rode toward the group, raising a plume of dust behind him.
By evening the three tribes had set up camp in their customary circles. Hitam gave instructions and set men to help the decimated tribespeople by organizing shelter and food. They'd run for their lives and spent the last three days with little food or water, scavenging what they could from the wreck of their carts. They’d searched for survivors and found none, and their supplies were buried deep under the rockfall. Dehydration and hunger were the least of their trauma. The sudden deaths of husbands, sons, daughters, and whole families struck the tribe hard. Their haunted eyes and pained expressions were testament to their tragic bereavement.
Hitam didn’t forget Rishi or Kara either. Farah and a man appeared, and helped them to set up their tent, indicating this wouldn’t be an overnight stop.
"A terrible occurrence," Hitam addressed his remark to those in the circle invited to eat with him outside his tent that night. Kara was the only woman sitting with the group. The leader of the decimated tribe sat with them too. The lean hatchet-faced man, Taruba, was small and wiry, and looked to be fast in a fight. He sat with his body hunched over in grief.
"My sorrow is your sorrow." Rishi addressed the newcomer, who sat next to Hitam.
Taruba eyed him gratefully.
Kara saw Hitam shoot a look of approval at Rishi. He was young, but he’d been trained properly.
During the meal Taruba pecked at his food but his gaze roved the circle constantly. Three others from his tribe sat with them, too, but Hitam had separated them from each other although the looks they exchanged spoke volumes. Hitam had also placed his own men on either side of Rishi and Kara. Even when he was the hospitable generous rescuer, he seemed bent on playing some game of his own.
"Are you of this clan?" Taruba asked Rishi.
"I am of the Eastern Desert tribe, and although the season isn't due yet an early storm surprised us. Unfortunately, my wife and I became separated from our tribe."
Taruba stared at the ground. "My sympathies are with you. I pray your tribe survived. We, too, had no expectation of a disaster of this scale descending upon us." His eyes flickered between Kara and Rishi.
Kara sensed the man’s curiosity about her, but for the moment decided the part of the good wife was the safest, lest she be branded a foreign devil.
"I lost my wife and three children. Naro," he indicated the youngest of the other three men, "is the only surviving member of his family, and Bortari was the luckiest of us three. He only lost
his mother and his youngest, a babe born three days ago." His eyes sought Kara’s. "You must forgive us if we are not good company tonight."
"We mountain tribes must stick together. You are not alone in your grief, Taruba, and whatever you need, if we are able to supply it, it is yours." Hitam presented the epitome of a generous benefactor, offering sympathy and support.
"Thank you Shanwatah. We are grateful for your bounty. Without it we would die."
Such flowery words, thought Kara, and no one saying what they mean. Are we the same in the colony, masking what we mean with words at odds with our intent? If that's the case, I'm beginning to understand why my father wanted to get as far away from the administrative center as possible.
Later that night, after darkness descended and everyone but those on guard duty had returned to their tents, Kara and Rishi lay facing each other, listening to the sounds of the surrounding camp.
"What will happen to Taruba's tribe? They are only a few." Kara reached a hand up and stroked Rishi’s jaw. None of the Maruts seemed to grow facial hair and she delighted in the smoothness of his skin.
"Hitam will give them a choice. They can continue to be independent as they rebuild their numbers, which could take generations, leaving them as a small vulnerable group. Or they can join another tribe—in this case, Hitam’s. Taruba will consider his options and discuss it with the rest of his men. Why? What bothers you?”
Her fingers traced the shape of his lips. His lower lip was fuller than his upper lip. It gave him a sensual or brooding look depending on his mood. "He'll choose Hitam, won't he? He came to their rescue, took them in, fed and sheltered them. They'd have protection." Her hands traced the line of his jaw and down his neck, pausing as she felt the powerful beat of his pulse.
"The downside is they will give up the entitlement to be a tribe in their own right forever, and even generations later they will remain at the bottom of the pecking order in their adopted tribe."
"Not an easy choice. What do you think he’ll do?" Her hand moved across his chest and she felt his heart beating under her fingertips. “You remember those warriors…?” She felt his heart beat faster.
‘You saw the damage, gradhaig. They had no chance. I wonder if we can unearth the Artefact or if it’s buried forever and all we’ll have is a story we'll tell our grandchildren.’ He put his hand under her chin, and ran his thumb along her lower lip. "We may be the only living creatures who set foot in that spaceship since it arrived on this planet with my ancestors."
She drew in a quick breath. If her ideas about this world’s history had altered since the Maruts saved her, Rishi’s last sentence proved his views had also changed.
"There will be a ceremony tomorrow to honor the dead. I'll offer silent prayers for those warriors."
The funeral ceremony the next morning was similar to the previous one for the satyrs sacrificed for the safety of Rishi's tribe. Except on this occasion there was no pyre. At Hitam's invitation, they stood in the front row of the circle, although Kara would have preferred to stand farther back and observe more discreetly.
Today, the survivors, dressed in borrowed finery courtesy of Hitam, were indistinguishable from his own people. The tribal chief was reeling them in like sweetbuzzes to a nectar bush. A wave of sadness at the tragic ending of many lives swept over her, and she remembered the look of horror on the faces of the men who'd chased them as the mountain came down on top of them.
Her father had forever impressed upon her the need to be honest with yourself. You can try to fool others, he always said, just don’t believe your own lies. Best though, he would add with a grin, is don’t tell lies. She regretted the men's deaths, but she had to admit she was relieved they weren’t here, because the truth was, they'd have killed her and Rishi if a seismically active fault hadn’t brought the mountain down.
Taruba started the prayers, his voice gaining strength as he chanted, despite cracking with emotion, and every man, woman and child present sang the lament with him.
Kara found herself, as before, deeply affected by the singing. Memories of her mother surfaced; her parents together, the way they’d understood each other, their love for each other, and she was finally finding it possible to think about her mother without choking on a large lump in her throat.
As the tribespeople sang, and the resonance of the combined voices increased, the sound rose to the sky. The base line spoke of the loss of loved ones, the first harmony sang of the pain of saying goodbye, and the second harmony conveyed a final acceptance of life as it was, because the past couldn’t be changed.
She glanced around and caught Hitam’s gaze on her. She was increasingly uncomfortable about his interest in her, and had begun to share Rishi's distrust of the man. He continued to invite them to eat with him at every meal, and Farah was constantly close by their tent ready to oblige, and no doubt report back to Hitam on their movements. They, like the decimated tribespeople, were at his mercy. At least once they reached the Summer Meet, they could leave. Taruba's people would have to accept Hitam's leadership if they wanted to stay alive.
After the singing ended, Hitam ordered a feast to be held in honor of the dead. The feast as such, wasn't much. With more mouths to feed, the supplies had to stretch further, but the dead had to be honored. As usual, Hitam and those eating with him enjoyed the best, and afterward both tribes spent the day in somber mourning.
The following day the tribes were awake before dawn, and set off on the final stage of the journey. Soon they would reach their destination, and, despite the recent tragedy, an air of suppressed excitement pervaded the camp. From today until they reached the Summer Meet, the tents would remain packed away, and each day would follow the familiar routine of traveling during the day and sleeping under the stars at night.
Each day’s end began with the sand dance, which was performed with far more sobriety and restraint than Rishi’s tribe, and with the reverberations of Hitam’s bigger tribe rolling across the dunes, Kara saw no repeat of the mass exodus. After eating with Hitam, they slept under the increasingly brilliant glow of the waxing moons.
Despite Rishi's continued disquiet about Hitam, she and Rishi had no difficulties. He continued to offer his services for guard duty—but a smiling Hitam responded each time with the comment that the only duty he had was to guard his wife.
Kara was glad. Having Rishi by her side made her more secure. Since she’d scrambled aboard his cart to escape the kallin pack, they'd not been separated, and she was more familiar with his moods than anyone else she'd known, other than her father. She still hadn’t come to terms with the odd restlessness she experienced unless Rishi was in sight, but she was astonished at how little this change of attitude bothered her. In fact, being half of a couple was a delightful discovery, and made her life here easier as anonymity wasn’t possible. He, a desert Marut, and she, a foreigner, they would stand out wherever they were.
As the days passed, the landscape changed with the gaunt mountains and red desert landscape gradually replaced with a wide belt of low green valleys, fed by streams emerging from the water table. The satyrs quickly grew fatter and rounder on the change of diet the lush grasses provided, and the cooler sea breezes lightened the people’s mood as they neared their destination.
Kara noted a generous variety of plants and insects she would need a lot more time than she had to record. The first moment she saw the ocean was one she would always remember. They had set up camp a short distance from the cliff edge two nights before arriving at their destination. Hitam had given orders for the tents to be erected. They were approaching the other tribes, and he clearly wanted to impress. As soon as Farah had escorted them to their tent, she departed.
As usual they were some distance from Hitam, and Rishi insisted they sneak away.
Kara had seen the vast expanse of water when the cadets were shown a simulation of a planetwide flight in her first week at the Academy. Yet as she stood on the cliff edge and gazed out at the great mass of restles
s liquid stretching to the horizon, her mouth dropped in amazement. "This, this...." She stared at the vast mass of pale green water, hypnotized by its ceaseless rhythm, too stunned to speak.
Rishi laughed. "You’re speechless! You, stuck for words. Well, I must remember this moment!"
She thumped his arm.
"But this water can be deadly. It corrodes wood too fast for us to build anything that can travel any distance." Rishi told her.
She tried to recall the lecture on the chemical makeup of the sea. A vague memory of high levels of zinc chloride making it impossible for the Maruts to develop sea transport of any kind. She remembered their instructor saying short dips were possible, but contact for longer periods resulted in burns. The colonists' lack of access to the sea had ended hope of research into the planet's marine life, and was a serious bone of contention among the marine specialists.
"I miss Yleni and the boys."
Affection shone in Rishi’s eyes. "Soon, gradhaig."
At the word, beloved, she leaned into him.
He pointed south to where the coastline jutted out into the sea like the head of a great beast. "Beyond that headland, the land dips down to a large valley and that’s where the Summer Meet normally takes place. We camp near the sea, and the flat sandy beach is ideal for the competitions. But this year is special, and we hold the meet up on the cliffs, where we can see to the horizon."
“What’s different about this year then?” The sunset painted wide slashes of vivid orange and crimson across the sky. She looked up at Rishi. His skin took on a rose gold color and his eyes shone golden amber in the ruddy light. The uncertainty of their situation made this moment more precious. "Gradhaig," she whispered.
"This year we're celebrating a Great Summer Meet, held once every four generations. You will see a spectacular event, and it also means we are especially blessed on our first gathering as man and wife. You’ll see many more weddings than normal taking place."
Veiled Planet (Hidden World Trilogy Book 1) Page 16