Daughter of the Night: A Book of The Moon People

by King, Claudia

  The moment the woman was within arm's reach she took a hold of Jarek and slapped him lightly across the face, pointing at Adel and uttering a slew of angry words in her own language. Jarek responded with a practised grin and a shake of his head, palms turned outward as he conversed with the elder in his foreign tongue. Adel picked up on a few of the words she had learned from Jarek, but the thrust of the exchange was lost on her.

  As the discussion dragged on Adel began to grow impatient, feeling the sudden urge to interrupt and make her own voice heard. But instead she took a deep breath, reminding herself that she did not need to be that person any more. She had to try and let go of that impatience. That urge to upset authority that her father had bred into her year after year. There was no authority here that needed upsetting. Neman seemed a clever and reasoned man from all she had witnessed, and she did not wish to incur the ire of his people on the very same day she arrived. Jarek seemed confident that they would accept her, but he felt that way about most things.

  Thankfully, her companion's relaxed attitude and easy charm seemed to work on the elder, and eventually she relented, shaking her head with a sigh and turning to acknowledge Adel for the first time. The young seer drew herself up tall, lifting her chin as the woman took her by the shoulders and fixed her with a stern look.

  “Our boy says he loves you. Is that why you came?”

  Adel hesitated. There were many reasons, truth be told, but that one seemed the simplest to explain. “Yes. If your clan will have me, then I would be honoured to be your guest.”

  “Honoured? Would you? Would your father be honoured to learn that his daughter is with the strangers from the south?”

  “My father will not know unless he is told.”

  “Hmm. And if he comes looking? Ours is the clan that would suffer, daughter of Ulric. Your father is a dangerous man.”

  Adel shook her head, the corners of her eyes creasing slightly. “Not any more. He has not the warriors to spare fighting another enemy.”

  The elder's posture slackened for a moment, and she spoke what sounded like a quick spirit prayer in her own tongue before replying. “Yes, we know of the great loss. Neman sent us word earlier this day.”

  “I am sorry your clan suffered because of mine.”

  “It is the men of the sun who did this. Do not apologise for their evil.”

  “Still, I am sorry.”

  The elder gave her a long look, lips pressed together, then nodded. “And I am sorry for the people of your clan who fell alongside ours. I would welcome you to our den, Seer Adel, but you are a dangerous guest to invite to our hearth. What have we to gain from this?” She glared at Jarek before he could interject. “And you having eyes for her is not enough!”

  “I will share with you all the wisdom of my clan,” Adel said.

  “The secrets of your seers? Why?”

  Adel shrugged. “Why would I not? I have no need to keep them to myself.”

  The tip of the elder's tongue darted between her lips for a moment, as if enticed by a prize sweeter than the purest honey. “Secrets are powerful things to keep, especially for a seer.”

  “Then teach me yours in return,” Adel said, sensing that she had an opportunity. “No other clan knows the things you do. I will tell you everything I have learned in exchange. Every medicine, every magic.”

  A smile revealed the dark-skinned woman's yellowed teeth, and she tapped her palm against her breast twice. “You are very cunning or very foolish to offer us so much. I think cunning. It will be for Neman to decide whether you stay or go, but I will tell him what you have said.”

  Adel bowed her head. “Thank you, Mother.”

  The woman laughed, turning to her pack-sisters and saying something in her own tongue. A handful of cautious smiles answered, and the unease of the group seemed to dissipate a little.

  “Come on,” Jarek said, taking her by the hand. “Let me show you our home.”

  Neman's clan regarded her with trepidation as she walked among them, but Jarek paid it no heed. He treated her as he always did, behaving as though she was no different from anyone else in his pack. It was a wise tactic, she realised, for his attitude invited no questions and provoked no excuses. He simply made her presence seem normal, and in doing so he invited others to follow his lead.

  The winding path up the hillside led them past many dwellings, and within the caves Adel glimpsed interesting paintings daubed on the walls in a style very different from the one her people used. She wondered which of the stone shelters belonged to the seers, and what other secrets might lie within.

  At the summit of the hill Jarek finally led her to what looked like a half-collapsed tent draped between the jutting branches of two trees, the weathered hides barely held in place by loose stitching and half a dozen poles propping them up from underneath. From the outside it almost resembled a pile of discarded furs and sticks tossed haphazardly together, but once Adel ducked inside she realised that the small dwelling was firm and cosy.

  “I made it myself,” Jarek said by way of explanation, brushing away some of the leaves that had blown in and shooing a small critter that had taken up residence between the rolled-up furs at the back.

  “It looks a mess,” Adel stated bluntly. “Why did you not have your craftspeople help you make it properly?”

  “I fear my alpha told them not to. He would rather I stay close to the pack, back at my family's hearth. There are plenty of other places I could rest my head.”

  “But you wanted your own?”

  Jarek unrolled one of the stiff sleeping furs, taking Adel's hand and pulling her down beside him. “Perhaps I'll let you share it, if you tell me how wonderful it is.”

  She smiled a little. “It is terrible, but it reminds me of you.”

  “You are so cruel, my seer.” Jarek lay down facing her, resting a hand on her hip as they gazed at one another. His rich brown eyes roamed contentedly across her face, and he let out a sigh of satisfaction.

  “Did you really tell that woman you loved me?” Adel said.

  “Yes.”

  “Why?”

  He grinned at her. “Because it is true. Why else would I say it?”

  “I thought perhaps to try and persuade her to let me stay.”

  “That too, but it is still true.”

  Adel's eyes fell to the fur between them for a moment. She felt strangely warm again, but it was difficult to pick out the emotions from among the tangle of pain and weariness in her heart.

  “I have never had a man love me before,” she said.

  “Well, now you have. Do you like it?”

  Adel mulled over the thought, trying to savour the notion and let it linger, like a sweet sliver of fruit on her tongue. She rarely gave such consideration to matters of the heart. It was a strange, perplexing thing to dwell on, unable to be unearthed in the way she might dig up a root, and more akin to the vague images found in visions. It was one of the reasons Adel had always put more faith in the healing arts than the whispers of the spirit world. If her visions made sense to her, then she would accept their guidance, but if they were strange and obscure then she dismissed them as nonsense. It was an approach that would no doubt have shocked the others seers had they known, but they could not peer into the things she saw within her own mind. They could peer into nothing of hers ever again, if she stayed here with Jarek's people.

  A painful lump came to her throat as she considered the possibility that she might never return home. As if sensing her discomfort, Jarek moved his hand up to her arm and squeezed gently.

  “Your thoughts are your own worst enemy,” he said.

  “How did you know I was lost in them?”

  He gave her a teasing look. “Do you know how long you were lying there without saying a word? And you still have not answered my question.”

  Adel sighed, trying to ignore her thoughts of home as she focused on Jarek again. “How is it that we came to care for one another?” she said, continuing to avoid w
hat he had asked her. “We could not be more different.”

  “Oh, we could, but perhaps different things are what we like?”

  Adel shook her head. “No, it is not that.”

  “Then perhaps it is because we understand each other in a different way. Our people want us to be something we are not. Yours would have you be an obedient female, mine would have me be a warrior, a father, a craftsman...” He shook his head. “I am none of those things.”

  “Then what are you?” Adel propped herself up on an elbow.

  Jarek smiled. “You know what I am. A fool who wanders and laughs, who finds pretty pools and pretty girls in lands afar. I'd walk to the horizon and all the way over it if I could.”

  Adel curled her fingers through his, holding his hand close to her breast. “But you can't, because your people need you here.”

  He nodded. “I may be strange to them, but I am not selfish.”

  “We will wander one day. We will find where the world ends.”

  “With you, maybe I could.” Jarek leaned in and kissed her, and Adel allowed herself to sink into the moment. His lips were soft and inviting, and his words were a comforting barrier that held back all her troubling thoughts. With her, he could forget all of his worries. With him, perhaps she could too. The sights and sounds of the battle with the Sun People had been clinging to the edges of her mind ever since it happened, but in Jarek's embrace they finally loosened enough to drift away.

  —17—

  Happy Years

  Alpha Neman's return two days later was a sombre one, and Adel felt out of place watching from the top of the hill as the clan gathered to mourn their fallen. She kept a respectful distance, saying a prayer of her own for Carim and the others, and for a moment she regretted having left before her own clan's dead had been set upon their pyres. She could not look back. Guilt would bind her to a life that was better forgotten.

  Later that evening the alpha came to see her. His appearance surprised Adel, for she had expected to be the one summoned to his den instead. Unlike her father, however, Neman walked among his people as though he was no different from any of them. They spoke to him as they would a friend, and he responded in kind. Were all other clans like this? Or was it simply another strange custom of Jarek's kin to treat their alpha as an equal?

  Neman brought no warriors or elders with him to make a show of his arrival, he simply scaled the winding path up the hill and squatted down next to Adel as she sat gazing out over the moors. He looked at her for a moment with weariness in his eyes, but his stare held no malice as far as she could tell.

  “What am I to do with you, daughter of Ulric?” he said.

  “It is my hope you will let me stay, Alpha. If your people have need of another seer, my skills are yours. Or I can gather or weave—whatever you would have me do to help earn my place.”

  “Yes, Leide tells me you bring your seer's knowledge with you. She is quite eager to find out what you have to share. I think if you need a mentor, she will be yours.”

  “It would be my honour, Alpha.”

  Neman's brow wrinkled. “I have a mind to turn you away, you know. Your father is a dangerous man. Perhaps not so dangerous as he once was, but still proud. Yet Leide tells me to welcome you, and now I know why Jarek has been disappearing every moon for all these seasons. So for them, I will let you stay. Understand, Adel, that as their alpha, I serve my clan, they do not serve me. I do what is best for all of them, and for now I think what is best is to let you stay. If that changes, my mind may change too.”

  Adel felt some of the tension in her chest ebb. “Thank you. If my father led his clan as you do, then perhaps I would never have left.”

  “Hm,” Neman grunted. “You have your ways, we have our own. We will speak more another time, but today we mourn our dead. Be respectful to my clan, and mind your place among them. You are no alpha's daughter here.”

  “I do not wish to be.”

  He nodded. “Good. Spirits be kind to you, Adel.” The alpha tapped his chest twice with a pair of fingers, then rose to his feet and departed.

  For the next few days she kept her distance from the rest of the pack, allowing them time to mourn their losses and grow accustomed to the stranger in their midst. She had no desire to make this difficult time any more trying for them, nor did she wish to show any disrespect by misinterpreting any of their customs. Jarek insisted that she had nothing to worry herself over, but her meeting with Neman alone was enough to convince Adel that this pack was very different from the one she had grown up in.

  Once the melancholy mood began to lift and the warmth of late summer filled the den, Adel began venturing down from the hilltop to mingle with the others more and more. Being surrounded by voices speaking in an unfamiliar language might have been an isolating experience to many, but for Adel the exclusion only fuelled her desire to learn the tongue of Neman's people for herself. Every day she demanded that Jarek share more of his words with her, keeping him up some nights until he began joking that she should be tiring him out in other ways. Adel did not know what to make of his teasing at first, but as the days went by their shared kisses in the privacy of the hilltop tent became more intimate. Jarek's fingers strayed over her body to places that brought her increasing pleasure, and she found her own hands exploring his dark skin in return. There was no insistence on his part, even though she knew what he desired. It almost seemed a game for Jarek to coax her into wanting it for herself.

  Soon she found that the nights, once disturbed by sorrow and lingering anger, became a time for pleasure. She no longer had to wait for the full moon to be with Jarek, and now that she saw him every day there was little room left in her heart for the negative emotions that had defined so much of her life. When she lay down with him even her worst fears seemed forgettable, and as the last of her bruises faded away into nothing her laughter began to fill their nights together once again. Before long she was eager to shed her clothing and curl her naked body against Jarek's, caressing and kissing him as her lips sought out new places to explore. She came to love the way he swelled in her palm when she touched and stroked him, and the sensitive petals between her legs grew hot and eager as he teased them in ways that sent shivers down her spine.

  When the night came that she finally threw her leg over him and insisted that their love go further, he gripped her waist with passion as she took him inside her, the young seer smiling through the bite of discomfort as his manhood broke through her maidenhead. If the kisses and touches they shared before had been pleasant, then the sensation of riding atop her lover was a bliss akin to the most euphoric depths of the spirit world. Everything else melted away as night after night they burned through the last of the day's energy with their lovemaking, groans and cries of ecstasy muffled among the trees of the hilltop. It was the kind of exhaustion that left Adel satisfied to her core, and yet ever-hungry to continue. Sometimes the sun was up by the time she slumped forward against Jarek's chest, damp hair clinging to her back as she absently licked the perspiration from his skin, lamenting the limits of her sore, aching body.

  The pleasure seemed to linger within her along with his spent essence, seeping through her body to fill her with golden light when she awoke. Every time she remembered where she was, she could not help but smile. Adel's laughter, once bottled up and buried so deep, now spilled freely from her lips along with her smiles. She walked among Neman's clan with a spring in her step, and the warmth with which she greeted her new pack did not go unnoticed. Soon smiles welcomed her every day when she came down from the hilltop, friendly faces greeting her in the words of her people, only for her to return the morning's welcome in their own tongue.

  Time helped to heal the summer's tragedy, and the children of the moon were used to enduring hardship. Focus returned as their alpha kept them occupied with new tasks, and Adel was not exempt from the demands of daily pack life. Back among her own kin, she had never been expected to hunt or craft for herself, the alpha's followers having
taken care of most of those mundane duties for her. She had been free to dedicate herself to the pursuits of the seerhood, but here that was no longer the case. Leide, the clan's den mother (though in the words of Jarek's people she was “Night's Mother”) had Adel work with healing medicines alongside the other seers, caring for those with wounds or other ailments. Those duties occupied only a small part of her day, however, for soon she had to help the others in gathering clay from the waterways to the north, then splitting green plants into fibres for winter weaving, preparing cooking pits for the fresh kill of the hunters, washing tools and clothing in the evenings, and contributing to the ongoing collection of dry wood that would see the clan through the seasons ahead. Those were but a few of the tasks assigned to her, and there always seemed to be something new vying for her attention.

  Unlike Ulric's clan, which had settled into a strict and efficient hierarchy bred from generations of tradition, Neman's pack seemed almost chaotic by comparison. Though the group did have its seers, warriors, mothers, craftspeople, and so on, everyone's roles seemed to overlap as the necessity of one duty overcame another. There was less of a strict ranking of status that allowed those with power to delegate to the people beneath them, something which Adel initially found perplexing. She missed holding her authority as a seer over those who should have been her subordinates, and the seeming lack of organisation sometimes made her itch to start barking commands at others.

  As time went on, however, she grew to understand that the ebb and flow of Neman's pack served them well. They were not a strict people, but they were energetic and industrious. It was funny, she though, that Jarek considered himself strange in his whimsical pursuit of freedom and laughter. From what she could see, it was a trait he shared with many of his people, especially when she compared them to hers. Perhaps there was a reason why this particular clan had departed from the lands of Jarek's grandfathers to seek out their own destiny.