by Avery Kloss
“Let’s do it before we lose all light,” said Ronan, holding the spear at his friend’s back. “It’s sharp enough. It shouldn’t have to go too far either.”
“No.” Kia held the end carefully, not desiring to cut her fingers. “Push a little now. A very little.” The tip of the spear sliced open a small gash, a whitish substance appearing. “Hold! That’s it.”
Horrified, yet curious, I stepped closer, staring at what looked like a seeping wound. “What now?”
“Someone must squeeze to get it out.” Kia got to her feet. “I’m not doing it.”
“Well, don’t look at me.” I wouldn’t touch it, feeling sickened by the prospect.
“You’ve cut a hole in me,” complained Enwan. “Now you’re going to stand there and not finish the job? You’re looking at me as if I’m some sort of five-legged creature.” He frowned deeply, not pleased in the least.
Ronan laughed at that, shaking his head. “I could never be a healer. I don’t have the stomach for it.”
“I wish you luck.” Kia shrugged, returning to our fire.
I had an idea. “I’ll ask Ara to help. She might not have any qualms about touching … that thing.”
“For the love of the gods!” grumbled Enwan. “Go do something! Both of you!” He glared at Ronan. “You’ll kill wooly monsters, slicing them up and down, but you won’t help your brother in need?”
“I … ” he held a hand to his mouth, trying not to laugh.
“Ara!” I waved to my sister. “Come here!”
She had been watching us, wondering what the commotion was about. After venturing over, she eyed Enwan’s back, her expression filled with disgust. “And what do you want me to do about this?”
“Squeeze it,” I said. “Someone has to. There’s clearly something foul in there that has to come out.”
“Why don’t you do it?”
“By all that’s holy!” shouted Enwan, now enraged. “Someone do something! I beg you. I desire nothing but to put this behind me so I might make supper and nap by the fire.” He glared at Ronan and then me, grumbling, “You should be ashamed of yourselves.”
Ara, realizing she was the only one capable or willing enough to accomplish the task, said, “I’ll need several strips of hide, please. This is going to be messy.” She glanced at Ronan. “Have you any?”
“Yes, of course.” More than happy to oblige her, he sliced through a thin sheath of leather, handing her what she asked for. “Here you are.”
“Thank you.” She glanced at Enwan. “This is going to hurt.”
He gritted his teeth. “Just do it.”
Members of the clan stood at a distance watching, having overheard every word. Ara said, “Lean forward, please. Brace yourself.” He did as he was told, offering her full access to the bump. “I’m going to squeeze now.” She pressed into the skin, which produced an enormous wad of whitish puss, the substance oozing.
“That’s revolting,” murmured Ronan.
“I agree.” Horrified and feeling ill, I prayed I did not vomit.
“Arrrrr … ” Enwan groaned, his voice hoarse. “Ouch!”
“There’s so much more here.” Ara squeezed again and again, globs of whitish puss emerging, which she wiped away. Remarkably, the bump began to shrink then, flattening. The last few squeezes resulted in a mostly bloody, pussy mixture. “Try to keep it clean.” Satisfied with her efforts, she got to her feet. “You’re fine now.”
“Thank you, Ara.” Enwan smiled weakly. “You’ve been very helpful.”
The sound of someone retching filled the air, Ronan having vomited at his feet. I could not help giggling, feeling just as ill, although I hadn’t lost the contents of my belly like he had.
Ronan wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I’ve never seen anything more disgusting.”
“Go away, you arse!” Enwan threw the soiled leather at him, but Ronan easily avoided it, laughing. He said sourly, “I’m glad I could provide you all with amusement.” But then he laughed too, relieved to have survived the ordeal.
Chapter Eleven
Not as fearful of the creatures that had attacked our clan, Ara and I ventured into the forest alone on a chilly morning, stepping silently over mossy ground, the feeling soft against my feet. I held a basket, already halfway filled with berries, the pickings abundant today. When the foraging proceeded easily, it brightened my attitude, knowing we would not have to work as hard.
Sitting beneath an enormous tree, I glanced at the thick branches overhead, the urge to climb overwhelming. “I want to go up.” I pointed.
“If you wish.” Ara ate a berry, grimacing. “They’re terribly sour.”
“Won’t you come with me?”
She eyed the tree, the branches sturdy enough, providing a relatively safe climb. “Perhaps. You first. I’m having a rest.”
“All right.” I swung a leg over a low branch, standing on it a moment later. Then I managed another and another, until I stood at a great height, my senses reeling from the adventure. “You should come, Ara!”
“Yes, yes,” she muttered, getting to her feet.
The branches felt firm, yet smooth, and easy to climb, my feet and arms hoisting me higher and higher, until I stood near the very top, my lungs burning from the exertion. I had never climbed a tree as large as this one, the view extraordinary. From this vantage point, I glimpsed the river, which did not look to be too far off, our cooking fires smoking, the greyish plumes drifting into the air.
“Come see this, Ara!”
“I can’t see anything anyhow.” She grasped a branch. “You tell me what you see. Save me the trouble.”
“I see our camp. It’s over that way.” I pointed in the direction of the small trail. “I see everything.” I stood comfortably upon a thick branch, my hand wrapped around another. A gust of wind rustled the leaves, but I held on firmly.
The forest did not go on forever, much to my astonishment. It ended at a distance, a valley appearing, although the land looked barren. The river, lengthy in scope, meandered through the valley, with tiny dark spots here and there, although they moved.
“I see game.”
“No doubt,” she muttered. “That is where they hunt after all.”
Pivoting for another angle, I glimpsed a great mountain in the distance; so far away, it looked like it stood within the clouds, smoke rising from its center.
“I’m going down. You keep looking.”
“I see a big mountain over there.” I pointed, memorizing its direction in relationship to our camp. Squinting, I saw what looked like smaller fires, each one with drifting smoke. “There might be another camp over there. Very far away.” I wondered who those people were and if they might be friendly. No one had ever mentioned seeing them.
“We’re not the only ones, you know. Why don’t you come down, so we can go home? I’m tired.”
The other camp remained positioned directly across the valley from the smoldering mountain, the distance substantial. It would take many days of walking to reach it. Turning again, I looked for the river, following it with my eyes, as it grew smaller and smaller, heading in the direction of what I thought might be the encampment. Satisfied with what I had discovered, I began the slow process of climbing down, careful not to fall and injure myself.
“If we swam the river, we could reach the other camp.”
“I don’t wish to do that. I’d more than likely drown.” She wiped her brow, the heat of the sun taking its toll. “We should return. I want to bathe and rest. I’ve had enough of this.”
Dropping to the ground, I grasped the basket, skipping to the trail. “Then what are you waiting for?” A happy bounce added a spring to my step, the day having been delightful.
Ara followed, catching up a moment later. “I hope they killed something good for supper. I’m hungry.”
We rarely went without meat, our hunters skilled, and the game abundant. This would be why Lascox had decreed we stay another season, not wanting t
o make a change just yet. Emerging from the forest, we came to the river, not having crossed it today. Ara and I simply needed to walk to the camp, seeing a woman and two children at a fire, while Kia opted to remain at ours.
Reaching her, I smiled, saying, “I saw for a great distance today, Mamma. You’d be proud.” She lay upon the pelt with her eyes closed. “Mamma?” My smile fell. “What’s the matter?”
Ara knelt beside her, touching her head. “Are you ill?”
“I … am.”
“What’s wrong?” I rarely saw her like this, the woman always active and robust. “Where’s the pain? Do you have any pain?”
“It shall pass. I’ve … had this before.” Her voice sounded weak.
“Might I make you something to eat?”
“I’m … not hungry.” She grimaced, clutching her belly.
It was then that I saw the blood wetting her inner thighs. “Mamma! You’re bleeding!” Horrified, I held a hand against my mouth, my mind racing, questioning why she bled here. I knew women suffered this once a month, but not like this—not this much blood. “What can we do for you? Shall I get the healer?”
Her fingers wrapped around my wrist. “Do not trouble yourself, Peta. I’m going to be well soon enough. My body’s working to expel something I shouldn’t have inside. Once it’s gone, I’ll be up and about. Now,” she moaned, the pain unbearable, “be a good girl and stoke the fire.”
Ara eyed her with concern, her thick, dark brows drawn together. “I’ll brew something to ease the pain.”
“Thank you.”
Chewing on my lip, I could not help the worry I felt, never having seen her like this, although … a memory prickled. A long time ago, she had been ill then too, but I was quite young and I hardly noticed. Ara made the beverage for her, boiling water in a leather pouch, whilst adding dried leaves and things. I waited for her to finish, the mixture too hot to drink right away.
Voices drifted from the forest, the men returning, which relieved me greatly. Spying the healer, I raced towards him, ignoring Kia’s denial of needing him. “Mannoc, might I speak with you?”
He appeared dirty, his face shining with perspiration. “I’ve only just returned, little girl. I’ve yet to sit once today.” He sounded vexed. “What is it you want?”
“My mother’s ill. She’s bleeding in her woman parts. Will you not come and help her?”
He glanced at our camp, his look bland. “I think not.”
His wife stood nearby, hearing our conversation, but she did not approach. Ronan found me with his eyes, standing at a distance watching as well. Ara did the same, her hands on her hips.
“Why won’t you help my mother?”
“She’s hardly your mother, child.”
“But she is.”
“That would be impossible.”
“She’s sick. The rest doesn't matter in the least. I don’t want to lose her.”
“I don’t treat … her kind. It’s of little importance to our clan.”
I could not understand his reluctance, my mouth falling open. “She’s very ill, healer. Your job is to make people better.” But, then again, everyone who had ever gone to see him had died. “What sort of a healer are you, anyhow?”
“I’ve told you my answer. If she’s bleeding from her woman parts, it’s a baby she’s losing. I won’t even ask whose it might be.” He grimaced at the thought, clearly finding it repulsive. “I don’t know who’d mate with a woman of her kind.”
I could easily answer that, casting an accusing glance Lascox’s way. “But, she’s part of the clan.”
“We took you in because you were half-starved and begging.” He took a step nearer, his manhood hidden beneath a leather skirt. He smelled strongly of various odors, needing to wash badly. “We found you on the journey here. None of us wanted the other two. We would’ve gladly taken you, seeing you’re from a similar tribe.” He pointed at my camp. “No one wanted them. If you’d just settle with another family, we can cast them out. We don’t associate with them. We don’t mix. Can you understand that?”
“No,” I whispered, a sinking feeling registering.
“Can you not see the difference? No one in the clan looks like those two. No one will mate with them. They’re useless, although they’ve adopted you, which is odd.”
“They’re my family. It matters little what they look like.” I knew he would not help, finding him vile. “I don’t know why you’re our healer. You’re a mean man. You have no heart.” I had never spoken so boldly to anyone before, especially one of the elders of the clan.
He scowled deeply. “You’d best leave my sight before I beat you.”
“Gladly!” I shouted, running away, tears streaming down my face. I hurried to our fire, finding Enwan there, standing over Kia.
“What’s the matter with her?” he asked.
His concern heartened me, Ara trying to feed her the liquid concoction. “She’s bleeding.”
“I can see that.”
Ronan approached. “What did you say to the healer? He’s rather mad now. I can hear him ranting and raving.” A smile emerged, but it soon fell, as he stared at Kia. “What’s wrong with her?”
“She’s losing a baby,” I said bluntly, not realizing I should not verbalize that quite so loudly. “She’s bleeding from her woman parts, more so than normal.”
“I see.” Ronan nodded. “Is there anything we can do?”
“You can bring meat,” said Ara. “I’m going to get her to drink this. It’ll help with the pain.” She looked at me. “What did the healer say?”
“He won’t treat you or mamma. He’s a mean man. He said the clan doesn’t care for you, but I do.” I thumped my chest with a closed fist. “I care! I won’t let anything bad happen to her or you.”
“She’ll be fine, but she needs to sit up.”
Enwan moved behind Kia, lifting her gently. “How’s that?”
“Drink this, Mamma. A little will do you good.”
She groaned in reply, her eyes fluttering open. “You needn’t fuss over me,” she whispered. “I’ll be … well … soon enough.”
Leaning nearer to Ronan, I murmured, “She has a baby in her.”
“Not for long.”
I knew only a little about mating, aware that it required a woman to be with a man, but how it happened I could not say. Chewing on a ragged nail, I pondered the situation, praying fervently that Kia survived. She had to.
Chapter Twelve
Dimly aware of the sounds of camp: voices in discussion, a baby crying, and two fighting dogs’ growls rising above the din, I held my mother’s hand, while praying to the god of the moon and the sun to heal her. She slept now, her face peaceful, but I feared she might be in pain at any moment or worse.
Ara sat next to us, staring into the flames. “I’d understand if you decide to leave.”
I glanced at her. “What?”
“Your life would be easier if you weren’t … with us.”
“I don’t understand.”
Laughter came from another fire, more than one family having gathered for a meal, their children chatting happily.
“Look around. Isn’t it obvious we’re outcasts? We’re never included in whatever the others are doing. They ignore our existence.”
“We get meat. We haven’t starved with these people.” I could tolerate the isolation as long as I ate. “It’s not unbearable. I can live here quite easily.” I wondered why she mentioned this, frowning.
“Yes, we eat, but we have no future.”
Glancing over my shoulder, I eyed Enwan and Ronan, the men sitting at a distance. They spoke little, eating, Ronan’s eyes drifting in our direction. “We have friends, Ara. Ronan and his brother take care of us.” I touched her arm, wanting to offer comfort, because, for some reason, she seemed ill at ease. “You’re in bad spirits. I can see that. You’re worried about Kia. She’ll be fine. Come morning, her illness will pass.” I had never seen Ara in such a mood before, wondering at
her pensive, morose state.
“They don’t want us.”
“Who?”
“Ronan and Enwan.” She eyed the fire, the flames beginning to die, needing more wood. “Ronan would take you, but … nobody wants me.”
I scooted nearer, wrapping an arm around her. “I can’t live without you, Ara. You’re my most special sister. You had best never leave me.”
She held me tightly. “You’re my sister, but you’re not my people. I long to be with my people, where I can find a mate and have a family.”
“But, I’m your family. Isn’t that enough?” Why was she speaking like this? What did it mean? “You’re not leaving me, are you?”
“No. I’m just thinking about things. Perhaps I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t worry over the future. We might not even have one. Mamma never thinks more than two days ahead.”
“We’re fed tonight.” My needs were simple. If I had water, shelter, and food, I was happy.
“You’re younger, Peta. One day you’ll want a man. You’ll want a family. You’ll want someone to take care of you.”
“We do that for each other.” Kia’s groan caught my notice. “Is she waking?”
“She should sleep.” We waited, wondering if she needed anything, but then she slept once more, her breathing even.
I yawned, exhausted from the stress of the day. “I’m going to sleep too.” I felt badly for all the nights I spent with Ronan and Enwan, having abandoned Kia. She had taken to sleeping all alone now, with a dog at her feet. Wracked with guilt, I scooted close to her, a pelt beneath us and one over. “Are you staying here tonight?”
“Yes.” Ara continued to stare into the flames, her arms resting upon her knees. “You spend too much time with them.”
“With who?”
“Ronan.”
I yawned, reaching for Kia’s hand. “I do not.”
“You do.”
“It doesn't matter. Goodnight, Ara.” I listened to the sounds around me, hearing men talking loudly now, some sort of disagreement occurring. Realizing the voices belonged to Ronan and Enwan, I pondered that, wondering what they could be arguing about.