by Calista Skye
Still, we’ll take it over and see what we can do with it. Maybe helped by Brax’tan’s tribe. If they can be persuaded.
I speed up to get closer to him. “What’s your chief like?”
Brax’tan looks away. “Oh, he’s terrible. Useless.”
Shit. “Really?”
“But he’s only been chief for five years. He still has time to shape up.”
“You think he’ll listen to reason?”
“I think he’ll listen. Look, there’s an old rekh nest.”
He points to the side, at a crude and messy bowl made from grass and mud, the bottom covered in thick eggshells and stinking like a burning garbage dump. It’s just like any one of twenty old nests we’ve seen. Brax’tan clearly doesn’t want to talk about his chief, which I suppose is fine. He’s loyal to his leader.
I should keep in mind that while Brax’tan seems to enjoy my company, or to not mind it too much, he’s also a tribesman. The tribe means everything to these guys. It’s parent and home and safety and roots. Being cast out from the tribe is the worst thing they can imagine. If Brax’tan somehow has to decide between me and the tribe, the outcome is not certain at all.
How does he feel about me? When he takes insane risks with his own life to save my ass, is that for anything other than a sense of honor? Sure, he keeps turning his head to check on me, and his gaze lingers by my chest and my face, and when he looks into my eyes his face seems to soften. And he touches me shyly every chance he gets. He nuzzles my hair and wipes little strands of it out of my face. I’ve sometimes caught him staring at me with a sheepish look on his face. He keeps taking hold of me and pulling me behind him so he can protect me against attackers.
Do any of those things mean that he’s falling for me? I’ve never had a guy do that before. As far as I know, anyway. I don’t know what to look for. I guess I could ask him.
For that matter, am I falling for him? Yes.
Oh-kay. That was fast.
Yes, of course. Even now, even without a drop of not-water in my system. Of course I’ve fallen for the guy. It’s all I can do not to run up to him and cling to him like pink chewing gum to the sole of a sneaker. He makes me feel good. He makes me feel normal. He makes me come like a burst dam. He keeps saving my life and not making me feel stupid about the little things that go wrong. Hell, if I don’t get pregnant with him, what kind of man would be good enough for me? I mean, sure it would be easier if we came from the same planet—
“Oof!” I walk right into Brax’tan’s broad back.
He smirks down at me. “Walking in deep thoughts? Not very smart while in the jungle. There’s some prey down in that valley. We need some food soon. I don’t think we’ll get to the village before dark.”
I peer down a little hill in front of us, in among the trees. “Not-sheep. Sure, let’s do some hunting.”
I confidently go ahead of him, sneaking around the trees and finding a good position to fire the crossbow at a suitable distance. I’ve hunted many not-sheep before, mostly with a spear, which is much harder.
I sneak behind cover and support the crossbow on a branch, then select one of the three not-sheep down there and aim.
Brax’tan comes up beside me and sends me a bemused look. I guess he didn’t know you can use a crossbow for hunting.
I pull the trigger, the crossbow punches my shoulder and the not-sheep slowly keels over, a dark red patch slowly spreading on its dirty white side. Its friends stare at it for a moment, then bounce wildly away into the jungle.
“Hit it pretty good,” I state with satisfaction and move to get up. But a strong hand holds me down.
“Good shot,” Brax’tan whispers into my ear. “But that wasn’t the prey I meant.”
I look back into the valley. “What are you talking about?”
Then I see it. A large shape, almost invisible against the foliage, comes lumbering into the little clearing and nuzzles the dead not-sheep. It has to be the size of an elephant, but there’s no trunk and no huge ears. It has antlers and a long snout, as well as a huge amount of either fat or something else around its neck, making it have a strange resemblance to a bison. If bison could camouflage themselves like chameleons.
“What is that?” I hiss. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”
“That’s a huto,” Brax’tan whispers. “They can be hard to spot. We rarely find one to shoot. When we do, it’s always a feast.”
I glance at my crossbow. “I’m not sure I can kill it. Looks tough.”
Brax’tan takes his sword out. “Alien ways are not always suitable. Wait here. Shout if you see danger.”
He sneaks off among the trees, and I nervously look around while he prepares to attack. There are a few too many prey animals here now, including me. Any passing dactyl would love to swoop down and take one of us.
The huto is slowly walking around the dead not-sheep, continuously changing its fur or skin to match the colors behind and around it. I wonder how many times these past months I’ve passed within inches of one of those things without knowing it.
I lose sight of Brax’tan, and the jungle is quiet for a little while. Then there’s a tearing sound like a bedsheet being ripped from end to end, and the huto’s head falls cleanly to the ground.
The rest of the animal stands still for three heartbeats before it slowly topples over, crushing bushes and saplings under it.
Right behind it is Brax’tan, his sword already back in its scabbard and his hands on his hips. He waves me over.
“It won’t be a very beautiful skin,” he says with a shrug. “Mostly green and red. We sometimes lure a huto to a special place with beautiful colors around it, so that it becomes a nice thing to decorate a wall or to fashion into clothes.”
I squat down to examine the skin. It’s almost completely smooth, and it reminds me of a cinema canvas. The animal still radiates body heat and a pungent odor.
“The colors will stay?”
He starts flaying it. “The skin will stay the same as the moment the huto died.”
I take a step back. “There must be a lot of meat on this. More than we can carry.”
“And you also felled your prey,” he reminds me. “That will be enough for you to carry. We will prepare the meat and place it such that tribesmen can come here and get it.”
I drag the not-sheep over and start partitioning it. The fur is mottled and not as white as they sometimes can be, but it will be warm on cool nights.
We work in silence for a while. Me with my short knife, Brax’tan with his huge sword that he handles like a scalpel.
I glance over at him now and then. He’s never looked more like a caveman than now, squatting and cutting meat with hands and a sword that are dripping with blood. But that could not be further from the truth. He’s a sophisticated man with a capacity for abstract thinking and a knack for accepting and understanding completely new things he sees without needing more than a moment to take it in. He handled all the weirdness of Bune like he’d never done anything other than examining alien starships.
It didn’t seem to bother him much that everything about Bune and the Ancestors that the tribes believe was wrong. One moment of confusion, and that was it.
I try to imagine what would happen in my mind if I saw conclusive proof that two plus two equals seventeen. The impact would turn my world upside down. And here he is, having just had an experience that can’t have been that different, calmly cutting up a huge animal, looking as content as a cat in a sunbeam.
And now I’m sure: this is not a common caveman. There’s something special about him. He’s unusually bright and capable. A genuinely spectacular man. And here he is. Encumbered with weird little Delyah.
Shit. I totally forced myself on him. Kidnapped him and pointed the crossbow at him. And yet, he’s taking it all in stride.
When I finish with the not-sheep, the shadows are getting longer. I walk around the small clearing and gather some leaves and roots for the food.
&
nbsp; Brax’tan digs a hole and deposits the carefully wrapped huto meat there before filling it in. “It will keep for a day. Maybe two. Tribesmen will be here tomorrow, after we get to the village.”
We build a fire and grill the not-sheep and the roots. When the sun sets, we’re happily sitting with our backs against a little cliff, munching on meat that’s pretty tasty while the fire crackles in front of us.
I grab Brax’tan’s arm and put it around me. This is easily the best time I’ve had on this damn planet, and I want to make the most of it. It could end at any time. Heck, it will probably end tomorrow.
Before, when the girls would bring one caveman home after the other and then marry them, I would privately scratch my head a little, thinking they were crazy. But now I absolutely get it. These guys have been in this jungle for a long time. They may not be from here originally, but they’ve made the most of it. So they have this natural way of dealing with it. They have that bubble of safety, that immense strength and that humble humanity that you’d search high and low to find in any man on Earth. They’re just so intensely seductive without even trying. Competence and humility. Which woman could resist?
The sun is setting, and it gets darker very fast. I like this place, with its pretty safe rock wall on one side and the fire in front of it. It’s a decent campsite. Now if only we had a tent…
“Can we use that huto skin now, or does it need to be cured?”
18
- Delyah -
Brax’tan scratches his chin. “It’s dry enough. It has no veins, there’s no blood. We never cure them.”
“Then stay seated.”
I get up and fold out the huge fur. It has an irregular shape, and it’s pretty thin. It won’t make a good tent. But we can use it as a blanket. It doesn’t even smell much, by the standards of this planet.
I sit down between Brax’tan’s legs with my back to him, then drape the skin over both of us, pulling it up under my chin and adjusting it until we’re well covered. “I’d like to see the Big that can spot us now.”
“We look like a bush,” Brax’tan agrees. “We can probably sleep safely.”
I lean back into him and feel his heat. “Do you think we’ll win? When we attack Bune?”
Immediately his hands are at my breasts, kneading, and I feel his hardness pressing into my lower back.
“Don’t tell me you’re ready again? You should be studied by scientists.”
He lifts my dress, and I feel cool air on my naked pussy.
“Brax’tan, I wonder if we can postpone the Mating a little? My slit isn’t used to this much action. It’s pretty sore from your cock.”
He doesn’t reply, just lifts me and places me ever so gently in a lying position with his pack under my head, pulling the huto blanket up to my chin. Then he crawls under it until he’s completely covered, making his way to my hips.
Immediately, he places a kiss right above my pussy.
I jerk involuntarily, and I’m getting wet. “Yeah. That might work.”
He uses his incredible tongue and lips on my pussy, giving me those sensations that make me feel as if I’m in a different universe. He goes slow, teasing me, then swiping his tongue across the clit, teases it again, penetrates my hole in a way that soothes it and just makes me buck wildly until I come, a little softer than before.
Because he has the power to control that, too. He plays my pussy like Rachmaninoff played his own compositions on a Blüthner piano. Or like Gurgeh played the game of Azad against its own inventors.
Gods, I miss my Kindle.
“That,” I pant, still feeling the little waves of orgasm rolling through me, “was really good. Is there anything you can’t do?”
Brax’tan crawls out from under the blanket, lifts me onto his lap and hugs me close. “Nothing comes to mind.”
I slap his chest. “You’re too cocky for your own good. You’re an incredible scoundrel, do you know that?”
He nods agreeably. “I am good at that as well.”
I place a little peck at his mouth. I really should blow him now. And I absolutely will as soon as I get back to normal after that climax. “When we come to your tribe. What will happen?”
“Oh, many things.”
“Such as?”
“Men will be sent to collect the buried meat. We will have a lot of things to explain about who you are. We will have to explain about Bune. We will have to make you make those sounds again. At some point, I imagine we will eat something.”
“Will they put me in a cage? Or try to Mate with me? Or kill me? Or do anything that I maybe won’t agree with?”
He scratches his chin. “They might.”
“They might?!”
“I can’t tell what you may not agree with. Perhaps you won’t like the food they’ll give you. Perhaps the caves are too primitive for you. I don’t think they will put you in a cage.”
“But they might try to Mate with me?”
“If they do, someone will die.”
“Uh-huh. What if your chief demands to Mate with me? Or to keep me in his cave?”
“I think we’ll find out.”
“Will you make sure nobody tries to Mate with me?”
“Of course. Unless it’s the shaman. He has to get his turn. And the chief. And the six members of the tribal council. And the twenty eldest warriors.”
I can feel my face going cold. This could turn into a disaster.
Then I catch a glimpse of Brax’tan’s face.
“Oh, you terrible rascal! You’re trying to scare me!”
He laughs, as loudly as he dares in the jungle. “Yes, just a little. I doubt anyone will try to Mate with you. They will realize that I will kill them if they do.”
“And if the chief threatens to cast you out if you don’t give me to him?”
Brax’tan hides his mouth behind his hand. “I doubt he’ll say that.”
“But if he does,” I persist, “what will you do?”
“If the chief threatens to cast me out, then the other tribesmen will be quite puzzled and won’t accept it. Anyway, if the tribe receives you with anything other than friendliness, I will go to your tribe and hope to be accepted there.”
I frown. It’s not perfect. But I suppose it’s the best I can expect. The rewards if we could find a tribe to be allies with are worth this risk. And I trust Brax’tan. I don’t think he’ll let anything happen to me. Worst comes to worst, I have my crossbow. I won’t go easily. I can fire the last bolt at my own heart.
“We’ll see,” I state and hide a yawn behind my hand. “I trust you to protect me.”
He doesn’t reply, just nuzzles my hair, sniffing it like a little puppy.
I adjust my position on his lap. He’s still hard under me, and I fully intend to suck him off before we go to sleep. I’ll just enjoy this moment for a while.
The stars are out, and the moon the cavemen call Yrf is nowhere to be seen. For all I know, one of the stars that are twinkling up there could be the Sun. I could be looking right at my home.
Right now, I’m okay with being here if it means that Brax’tan is here, too. After our exploration of Bune, Earth is both closer and further away for me.
“I’m fine, don’t worry about me,” I inexplicably mumble into Brax’tan’s wide chest.
- - -
I open my eyes as the first sun ray hits my face.
Brax’tan is busy cooking breakfast, and he’s propped me up against the cliff with my not-sheep fur. “Good morning,” he says, not even looking at me. “Delyah falls asleep easily.”
I rub my eyes. I didn’t even blow him last night, after he made me come so wonderfully.
“I don’t know what it is. One moment I’m wide awake, thinking deep thoughts. The next, gone. I’m sorry for being such lousy company. I’ll make it up to you.”
“I’m sure you will. Here, eat something.”
He hands me a tender piece of huto, carefully grilled and dripping with fats. I chew it happily, slowly
waking up after a good night’s sleep. Because even here, under the open sky, up against a rock, I sleep better than back at the cave. I feel safer, and I’m able to let go more, not feeling that I have to sleep with one eye open in case something happens that I have to deal with as the elected leader of the group. Here, I’m not the elected leader of anything. Brax’tan is so clearly in charge when we’re in the jungle, and that’s fine with me. He makes me feel safe.
We pack up, and then we’re walking again. I can’t help worrying about his tribe. Some of the tribes the girls have seen are clearly in decline, and they seem to consist mainly of lazy cowards. And if the chief is as bad as Brax’tan says, then who knows how I will be received.
I check my crossbow again. Loaded and ready if I have to escape. I’ll be on a hair trigger for running away. The slightest sign that some of these guys want to rape me, and I’ll be gone. For some of the girls, it got a little too close to being the end of the line.
It’s probably a greater risk than I should be taking. But I’ll do it. For the girls who believed in me enough to make me their leader. This tribe could become the key to defeating Bune. We’ll need all the help we can get.
And even if Bune turns out to not be the way home, some allies would be valuable.
We walk silently for a few hours, through dense jungle, past trees trunks as thick as redwoods, over ridges and across valleys. There are sounds around us all the time, rustlings and squeaks and grunts. Nothing attacks us, and I’m not sure if that’s a good sign.
My anxiety rises with each passing minute. This could turn out to be a really bad idea. I’m alone here. If someone in the tribe rips the crossbow from me, I can’t even kill myself.
I’m about to turn around when Brax’tan finally stops and turns. “Welcome to the Verensi tribe.”
I look around. This doesn’t look like a village. It looks just like every other spot in the jungle. Trees and bushes and rocks and grass. No cave in sight.
I frown. “This is your tribe?”
He looks past my shoulder. “Greetings, Krut’iax.”