by Viehl, S. L.
If Jylyj meant to intimidate me, he failed. I was not afraid of this place. For the first time since the end of the rebellion—no, since coming to consciousness on the blood-stained ice—I did not feel strange, clumsy, or wrong. Everything made sense, from the scent of the air to the shifting of the soil under my feet. I drank in the colors of the sky, the sound of the wind. When Reever brewed the white berries he had found, I knew they would be more delicious than any coffee on Terra. For here on this world that I had never seen, among people who were not my kind, everything around me put me at ease.
I felt as if I had finally come home.
Ten
The two men on watch split apart to flank us on both sides. Both carried hunting and skinning blades hanging tucked into series of loops sewn along the upper sleeves of their garments, which, like those the Elphian had given us, were made of soft, cured animal hide. Each also held a spearlike weapon with a pronged end carved of wood. Embedded in the twin shafts of the prong end were dozens of blackened, sharp-looking thorns.
Although the design of it was unfamiliar to me, the sturdy fashioning of the weapon and the wide space between the prongs made sense. Its primary use was likely to pin down something and hold it in place while the tribesmen used their long, sharp claws for the kill. If thrust like a blade into a body, the prongs would inflict two deep, penetrating wounds, while the barbed thorns would inflict even more damage as the weapon was jerked free.
The tribe came out of their shelters and many light eyes watched us as we were marched over to one side of the settlement. I found it difficult to keep my head down and avoid eye contact, especially with all the attention we were drawing, so I tried instead to look at the objects in the camp. The tribe’s kiafta, made of enormous purple-and-gray-striped hides stretched over a framework of poles, numbered in the hundreds. The tall, oblong shelters did not stand alone, but had been built in groups of three with covered, open-sided lattices leading to and from each shelter. Airy-looking twists of pink and gold vines grew on the lattices, but instead of flowers sprouted large, dark red globes with smooth hulls.
Intricate native symbols had been somehow carved into the darker strips of the shelter hides in long columns; as I passed close to one such hide I saw the symbols were actually carefully denuded spaces in the short, dense hair of the hide.
“What do the symbols mean?” I murmured to Jylyj.
“I don’t know,” he whispered back. “I cannot read their language.”
In the center of the encampment stones had been stacked in a sprawling spiral, in the center of which a well-tended fire blazed. Embers lined each of the spirals curving away from the center, and stone pots hung from simple frames steepled over the coals. Thin, pale pink smoke rose from the burning heartwood, and colored the cold air with the faintly sharp but not unpleasant scent of hot resin.
I couldn’t see what the tribeswomen tending the pots were cooking, but I saw one of them toss a handful of dried stalks into a pot and stir them into the contents.
Our guards stopped at an area marked off from the rest of the encampment by rows of dark stones, and enclosed by a three-sided lattice covered with the pink and green vines. A plain hide with the center cut away covered the area. I saw the reason for the hole when I spied the small fire that had been built beneath it. Around the fire were large, hide-covered, flat stones that appeared to be seats of some sort.
“This is where we are to wait for the chieftain,” Jylyj said. “Remain here. As your scout, I have to first inspect it to ensure that it is suitable.”
I watched the Skartesh as he walked inside the structure and made a circle around the fire. He knelt and sniffed at the ground several times, and then straightened and looked above at the interior of the hide. Only then did he gesture for us to join him.
I didn’t have to look at the tribesmen to see their approval. Obviously, these rituals were important to them, and by observing them Jylyj showed both knowledge and respect.
The fire kept the interior space quite warm despite the open-sided lattices. Acting on instinct, I waited for the men to sit down around the fire before I joined my husband.
“Put your hand on the top of her head,” Jylyj said to Reever. “It shows approval and possession.”
Duncan stroked the crown of my hair. “I could become used to this.”
“So could I.” I resisted the urge to cuddle up against him, and glanced at the Skartesh. “How long do you think we’ll be kept here?”
“The men on watch sent runners for the chieftain. Hunting parties never go farther than a two-hour run.” He glanced up through the smoke hole to study the sky. “They should return by midday.”
I noticed Hawk kept looking back at the encampment through the entrance to the enclosure, his expression intensely curious. “Are the people here like the Native American tribes on Terra?” I asked him.
“As some of them were in ancient times, yes,” he said. “The tribe lives literally off the land, in harmony with nature. The animals they hunt feed the people, while their hides make shelters and clothing.” He turned to Jylyj. “They do not cut down the trees for firewood, do they?”
The Skartesh shook his head. “It is against custom to harm living trees, so the firemakers take only fallen or dead trees, and cure them in seasoning racks. The custom is practical, too, as fresh heartwood doesn’t burn very well.”
Hawk nodded thoughtfully. “Tribal customs usually come about as a response to some aspect of the environment. The ancient Hebrews on Terra had very strict laws forbidding the consumption of certain meats. Centuries later, scientists discovered that parasites dangerous to humans commonly infected the prohibited animals.”
The sound of a polite cough distracted me, and I watched a tribeswoman enter the enclosure. She moved in a curious hunched fashion, holding her head down and cradling a basket of food against her belly. She tentatively approached us, set down the basket, and drew back. Her light green eyes met mine for a moment before she turned and left as quietly as she came.
Jylyj picked up the basket and examined the contents.
“Journey food,” he said, picking through the oddly shaped items. “It’s commonly the first meal offered to those who have crossed great distances. They know we have come a long way to be here.”
“How can they assume that? From our appearance?” Qonja asked.
“Likely they have an Elphian watcher in the erchepel.” He offered the basket to Reever. “It’s safe to eat,” he added when my husband hesitated.
“Until our scanners are returned, Jarn and I will use our rations.” Reever passed the basket to Hawk without taking anything from it.
Hawk and Qonja both sampled some of the oKiaf journey food, and seemed to enjoy it, although the Jorenian pronounced it very rich and filling.
“It must be very high in calories and nutrients,” the Jorenian said, examining one of the blue globes from the basket. “I thought the oKiaf were mainly hunters. Do they grow this?”
“There are some tribes who travel to planting grounds in the warm season and cultivate quick-growing crops, but most of the people rely on hunting. The women are skilled gatherers, however, and have many ways to preserve foods. They often keep the tribe from growing hungry during the long winters when game is scarce and hunting parties return with nothing to show for their efforts.”
One of the men on watch came to the enclosure and pointed first at Jylyj and then at Reever while uttering some terse words.
“The chieftain has returned and will receive us,” the Skartesh said.
“Why me?” my husband asked.
“I told them that you are our leader,” Jylyj said. “I am being allowed to accompany you to serve only as an interpreter.”
I touched my husband’s hand. “Be careful.”
He nodded and left with Jylyj and the oKiaf tribesman.
A short time later, the female who had brought the basket of food slipped inside, and with her eyes cast down came to sit beside me. I c
ouldn’t fathom why until Hawk leaned close.
“Jylyj said females are never left alone with males they are not mated to,” he said. “I think she is here to act as your chaperone.”
I suppressed a chuckle. “If only I could explain to her how safe I am in your company.”
Qonja laughed out loud at that, startling the tribeswoman, who glanced at him before covering her mouth with her hand. That was something I recognized; Iisleg females did the same when they were amused by something a male did or said.
The Skartesh had said I could not speak directly to the men of the tribe, but I saw no harm in trying to communicate with this female.
I caught her gaze, gestured toward myself and said, “Jarn.”
“Trewa,” she responded, pointing to her breast. She darted a glance at the men.
“Qonja,” I said, indicating the Jorenian, and then pointed to the crossbreed. “Hawk.”
“Jarn, Qonja, Hawk,” Trewa repeated slowly. She seemed pleased to know our names. “Antea hsfar, Jarn.” She made a sweeping gesture toward the sky, and then brought her hand down to the ground. “Dyalmatak.”
“I wish Jylyj was here,” I said, smiling helplessly at the other female and shaking my head slightly to indicate that I didn’t understand her words.
Trewa picked up a twig, moved back, and began scratching marks in the red soil. She drew five figures, an oval shape, and a triangle before she looked at me expectantly.
Hawk studied the drawing. “Our survey team, what might be a ship, and one of their dwellings, I think.”
“The triad seems to be a very important symbol to them,” Qonja observed. “If you noticed when we were brought in, everything in the encampment is grouped in threes.” Another tribesman, one we had not seen before, came inside the enclosure and spoke to Trewa. She nodded, ducking her head as she rose. The male gestured for us to do the same.
Trewa stayed with us and walked beside me until we stopped before the three largest kiafta in the encampment. With another shy look she unwrapped from her arm a coil of square green beads interspersed with short slivers of pale, smooth wood and pressed them into my hand before hurrying off.
The tribesman made a motion indicating we should wait, unfastened part of the kiafta’s hide covering, and stepped inside. A moment later, Jylyj appeared.
“This is the chieftain’s place, which he shares only with his mate and his children,” he said in a low voice. “It is a great compliment to be invited here. It seems we have impressed the tribe with our manners.”
“Should I wait outside?” I asked.
He shook his head. “The chieftain is particularly interested in you, Healer. Just stay by your husband.”
We followed him into the dark interior of the shelter.
Given the oKiaf’s nomadic culture, I did not expect to see any sort of furnishings. While the inside of the kiafta was not crowded, there were large stones arranged to serve as a table, seats, and what I thought were sleeping platforms.
I wondered why the oKiaf would bother to use such heavy objects for furnishings when I saw the bases of the stones, which were weathered by time and use and stood deeply embedded in the soil. From the way it looked, I imagined that the stones had been used by many generations of oKiaf and left in place. Each chieftain must have come to this same place and erected his shelter over the stones.
Reever stood at the back of the kiafta, partly shadowed by a draped piece of hide. Next to him the chieftain, a tall and proud-looking oKiaf, stood in silence. They didn’t look at us.
“Sit here.” Jylyj indicated a row of seating stones, and stopped Hawk from sitting beside me. “That is Reever’s place.”
Hawk nodded and moved down the row. I sat and looked at the ornament Trewa had given me so I wouldn’t be tempted to stare at the chieftain.
“That is a renatak,” Jylyj said. “Did one of the women give it to you?”
I nodded. “The female who brought the food. Should I wear it?”
“Yes. I will show you.” Jylyj uncoiled the length of beads and wound it around my wrist, turning it one way and then another until the coils hugged my arm.
“Why did she give it to me?” I asked as I admired it.
“It is a fertility object,” Jylyj said. “She wishes you to become pregnant.” At my wide-eyed look, he added, “Being with child gives the female higher status among the tribe. In a sense, it is her way of saying that she wishes you well.”
My immune system made it almost impossible for me to have any more children, so the explanation left me feeling a little depressed. Still, I intended to thank Trewa the next time I saw her. “What are the words a woman uses to thank another for a gift?”
As Jylyj told me, Reever came out of the shadows and sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. He glanced at the bracelet but said nothing, and I realized why when the chieftain came out and began speaking in oKiaf. At the same time, Jylyj translated his words for us in a low voice.
“I am Dnoc, made leader of the Parrak erchepel. It is through our lands that you walk and on our bounty that you feast.”
Reever turned to Jylyj. “Tell him we are here to look for a crystal that can cause the people to fall ill. Ask him if we may have his permission to survey the land here.”
Jylyj spoke rapidly to Dnoc, who nodded and walked around our group to look at each one of us. He then spoke to the Skartesh at length.
When Dnoc had finished, Jylyj said to Reever, “The chieftain has been in contact with the Elphian. He will allow us to stay in their erchepel for the night, and in the morning he will give us a guide.”
Reever shook his head. “We don’t need a guide. We can use our equipment.”
“It is not an option,” Jylyj said. “There are several places where outsiders are not permitted to go. The guide is not to show us around as much as to keep us from trespassing on prohibited grounds.”
“Why are these places off-limits?” Qonja asked.
“I cannot say.” The Skartesh glanced at the chieftain. “The oKiaf do not discuss such matters with outsiders.”
While the men were talking, Dnoc came and crouched in front of me. He turned his head and muttered something to Jylyj.
“The chieftain wishes to speak to you, Healer Jarn.” The Skartesh moved beside us. “You may look at him.”
The chieftain had piercing blue eyes, one of which was surrounded by six parallel scars that formed deep grooves in his black fur. So many beads and small wood carvings had been added to the dozens of braids in his mane that his entire head seemed to sparkle with light.
He spoke at length, and only when he finished did Jylyj translate the words.
“Dnoc has been having vision dreams of an offworlder female marked by ice and fire,” the Skartesh said. “So have some of the other men of the tribe. The oKiaf believe their dreams are portents, so they were not surprised to see you. He is gratified to know that you are a healer. He believes that is also a sign.”
Dnoc reached out and hooked a sharp claw under the moonstone beads I had tucked under the front of my long shirt. He gently tugged them out and examined them, and repeated a handful of words.
“He says the necklace you wear is proof of the portent,” the Skartesh translated. “He believes it is made of fire and ice, trapped in stone. He says it marks you as belonging to the great healer.”
“We won’t tell him that Hawk gave it to me as a gift of friendship.” The chieftain’s story intrigued me, however. “Who is this great healer?”
“It is only a figure from an old myth.” Jylyj didn’t seem very interested in it, either. “You should express your gratitude to the chieftain. He pays you a great compliment.”
I nodded and said, “Your words honor me. I thank you.”
Once Jylyj had translated that into oKiaf for the chieftain, Dnoc grunted and gave my face a fond pat before standing. He called out, and a moment later three tribesmen appeared.
As Dnoc spoke to his men, Jylyj said, “They are taking us
to the kiafta reserved for special guests. We are to eat and rest until the night fires.”
When we emerged from the chieftain’s personal kiafta, the crowd of oKiaf waiting outside surprised me. I had thought the tribe would continue to keep their distance until word that we had been made welcome by their leader had been passed around the encampment.
Then there was their unnerving interest. Hawk and Qonja should have received the most attention, as they were the most exotic-looking members of the team, but everyone seemed to be staring at me.
I held on to Reever’s hand. “Why are they looking at me like that?” I murmured to him.
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “But whatever happens, stay close to me.”
One young male stepped boldly in front of us, stopping us in our tracks. He moved past Jylyj, Qonja, and Hawk and approached me. I studied his pale gray pelt and the many scarification marks he had on his arms before I realized I was staring. I quickly ducked my head and bit my lip, hoping he hadn’t noticed.
The male went down on his hands and knees as he sniffed at my footgear and leggings. He did the same to the front of my long shirt, rising slowly until he loomed over me. He bent to sniff my hair, his breath blowing some of it over my eyes.
Reever pushed me behind him and uttered a few words in oKiaf. At the same time, Jylyj moved in and bumped his shoulder into the young male’s as he said something in a challenging tone.
The young male stepped back, looked me over one more time, and then rejoined a group of males. They cuffed him on the arms and chest and talked very fast.
“It’s all right,” Jylyj said. “Some of the younger men of the tribe like to test certain boundaries. It’s usually tolerated unless it gets out of hand.” He turned to my husband. “How did you know what to say?”
“I absorbed some of their language during my contact with Dnoc.” Reever scanned the faces watching us before giving the Skartesh a flat, unfriendly look. “I hope I made my meaning clear.”
“You have,” Jylyj said.