by Claudia King
By the time she crept into the cave and returned to her empty spot she was shaking, and even Fern's questions could not rouse a response from her as she pulled the furs over her head and curled into a ball.
—19—
Caspian
He knew something was wrong when he saw Netya hurrying out of the alpha's den in the middle of the night. He called her name, but the wind stole his voice away before it could reach her, and a moment later the girl had been swallowed up by the darkness. What brash decision had Khelt made now?
Caspian thought about following her, but it was late, and if the alpha had just thrown her out of his den into the cold he doubted he would find either of them in good tempers. Already the bitter air was numbing his fingers, and he resolved to look into whatever had happened the next morning rather than worrying about it now.
He stepped down from the entrance to the seers' cave and relieved himself in the snow, before wrapping his furs back up tight and hurrying inside. By all accounts someone who was neither a seer nor a woman should have been forbidden from such a place, but Caspian had never cared much for tradition. As a child he had spent half a winter in here with his mother and her fellow seers as he fought through a sickness they did not know how to cure. Within a few months he was healthy again, but the women had become so used to his presence that they were more inclined to tolerate his comings and goings, and after it became apparent that no amount of scolding would keep him out they finally seemed to accept that he was the exception to the rule.
Even as a grown man he still sought out the seers' cave for the same reasons he had as a child. It was a quiet, spiritual place, filled with the gentle fragrances of herbs and the eerie light of the strange oils the women burned in their stone lamps. He enjoyed the tranquillity. It was a space for his thoughts to free themselves.
Everyone else had gone to their beds, but Adel still sat awake on the opposite side of the fire near the cave's entrance. Caspian heaved the heavy screen across the opening behind him and settled back into his place opposite her, looking to the game of coloured stones they had been playing in the dirt, his light pebbles against her dark ones.
"I saw Netya outside," he said, watching as the den mother's eyes lit up from within the small mound of furs wrapped about her body. He was disappointed to see her smile.
"Has she finally had enough of him?"
"I would hope not, for all our sakes. I was starting to believe she might be ready to settle here," he said.
"She is little more than a slave to him." Adel grimaced. "She can settle without needing to warm her captor's bed every night."
He gave her a patient look, and the woman huffed, fixing her glower back on the game as she planned her next move. Even after all these years, he could not truly tell whether Adel liked him or not. But like or dislike, the den mother certainly held a respect for him that extended to precious few others. Her willingness to let the topic slide was the result of a dozen such discussions between them that had led nowhere. She could not persuade him that his childhood friend was the barbarian she thought, and he could not convince her that he was a good man who made hard choices in the best way he knew how.
"Well, she has an eye for you, anyhow," Adel muttered, knocking one of Caspian's pebbles aside and replacing it with two of her own.
"And fortunately I have no intention of claiming what isn't mine."
The den mother glanced at him, concern marking her features for a moment. "It almost escaped me, did you take good care of Liyanthe last summer?"
He smiled. "She was very eager once I showed her there was nothing to be afraid of. She seems much more willing to court the other young men now."
Adel nodded, looking relieved. "Good. It took all night to calm her after her first summer fires. Hopefully she can put it behind her now."
"You could have asked her yourself."
She waved a hand impatiently. "What does it matter? You have told me now. I take it she is not the female for you, though?"
He shook his head. "She is a sweet girl, but I would not have sought her out if not for your suggestion. If I managed to help her, that is enough for me."
"Hmh," Adel grunted. "And you have no interest in the Sun girl, either?"
"What is your concern with her, den mother? It is not Netya's fault that Khelt favours her."
"It was a foolish mistake to take her from her people."
"You do not need to tell me again," Caspian replied. "But she has settled better than any of us could have hoped. You said it yourself, she may well have saved Erech's life by staying at his side the way she did."
Adel paused, watching him intently for a moment before speaking again. "I tried to scare her into leaving not long after she arrived, you know."
"Why? She would not have gotten far. Did you want to get her killed? Because if anyone but Khelt had caught her, you know what would have happened."
"I would have carried her back to her own people myself if it had worked," Adel said. "But the stubborn girl refused. She can't even see what will happen if she stays here and has Khelt's child."
"Perhaps not, but it is her choice to make. She may be young, but she is not as foolish as you think."
The den mother's scowl remained firmly etched into her face. Caspian sighed inwardly, wondering if he would ever find some way to reconcile Adel with the rest of the pack. She was barely a few years older than himself and Khelt, and yet he had seen her heal wounds and divine meaning from the spirits with skill beyond that of the wisest and most ancient of seers. If ever there had been a woman destined for great things, it was Adel. But there was ice in the den mother's heart. A bitterness buried beneath years of stubborn anger, and every day it worried him to see the same darkness growing in Khelt. He had tried so many times to reach it and dig out the root of their discord, but at times it seemed an impossible task.
"You see something of yourself in her, do you not?" he said at last.
"I had twice the wits at her age. She may have my hair, but that is all we share in common."
"You saw the way she was with Erech. I recall a similar kindness in you when you watched over our wounded many years ago."
"I never wept over the people who took me from my home." She took Caspian's final pebble from the patch of dirt they had been playing on, then rose to her feet. "Perhaps you will have better luck next evening."
He gave her a disappointed look, but he cared little over losing the game. "Well, we have all winter."
Adel turned and dragged her furs after her without wishing him good night. He collected the playing stones and secured them back in their pouch before sitting up a while longer to watch the fire. The alpha and den mother were the ones with the power, and yet he felt like the balance point struggling to keep both in check. How could he spare time to think of making Liyanthe, Netya, or any of the other females his mate when he had to constantly mediate between two such wilful leaders?
He closed his eyes and lay back, allowing his worries to leave him for a few precious moments before sleep came. How would the night of the summer fires have ended had he allowed his attentions to roam free, without thought or consideration to what the next morning might bring?
He smiled to himself as the world of dreams claimed him. He could think of a few ways.
It took half the morning to track down Khelt on the snowswept outcrop after Caspian found the alpha's den empty the next day. He was perched on the rocks at the edge of the camp, his cloak already white with powdery snow as he stared out across the plains. Just like Khelt. Even against the elements, he would refuse to break his vigil until the weather threatened to freeze him in place.
"I almost mistook you for a boulder," Caspian said as he crouched down beside his friend, brushing away some of the snow that had collected on his cloak. "Did you break her heart?"
Khelt grunted. "Has news of it gotten around the pack already?"
"No, but I saw her leaving your den last night. What happened?"
"S
he asked me questions I did not wish to answer, and then I acted rashly. I should not have lost my temper with her."
"Did she leave of her own accord?" Caspian said.
Khelt hung his head a little, in the way he always did when feeling ashamed. It was a charmingly wolf-like gesture that carried over from his feral side. "I sent her away. What a worthy male I am, sending my woman out into the cold while I stay warm by the fire."
"Even the alpha has to have his faults."
Khelt sighed, rubbing the back of a hand across his stubble. "She may want me to take her as my mate."
That surprised Caspian. He knew Netya was attentive, but nothing he had seen led him to believe she was truly in love with the alpha. "And... You are afraid she will become unhappy if you deny her?"
"What else can I do? As long as Adel's clan still remember our broken promise, my hands are bound. I want Netya to always be a friend to us, even if she does one day go back to her own people, but how can I keep her happy if she wants the one thing I cannot give?"
Caspian pondered for a moment, collecting flakes of snow on his palm and watching them melt. "If she wants a mate, there is nothing to stop her from finding one. It just cannot be you."
Khelt threw his hands in the air in exasperation. "And who would want to share a female with the alpha, much less a girl of the Sun People with no status of her own?"
"Perhaps you will have your heir before long, then she will be free to mate whoever she wishes. In the meantime, you can work on letting her find the status she needs."
Khelt gave him a curious look. "I know what you say makes sense, but I am not so sure."
"Because you care for her also?"
"Perhaps I do. Ah, but how can I! Preventing her from being someone else's mate makes her no more mine. I feel I do nothing but toy with the poor girl's life."
"Then give her the means to choose for herself," Caspian said. "Let her find a place among the pack to call her own. Even if it is not a mate she desires, it will make her happy knowing she is more than just your consort."
"Somehow I do not think Netya is cut out to be a huntress or craftswoman."
"Apprentice her to the seers, then."
"No," Khelt said sharply. "I will not have her near Adel night and day. She is already afraid of her."
"Then either she learns to hunt, or she will have to wait until she becomes one of the mothers."
Khelt muttered to himself, making a show of knocking the snow from his clothing before he finally responded. "I will allow her to hunt if she wishes, then. Once the snows end she may join the others."
Caspian nodded, satisfied. He did not know how severe the disagreement between the alpha and his concubine had been, but it always helped Khelt to have a plan of action in mind. Then, at least, he would stop sitting out in the cold freezing himself to death.
"And of course, there is one more thing you must do to make this right with her," he said, putting a hand on the alpha's shoulder as he stood up.
"What is that?"
"The next time you see her, apologise."
—20—
My Father's Spear
The following day Netya began taking Adel's herbs with her morning meals. At first it began in spite. She was still angry at Khelt, and denying him his heir, even if it was just for a short time, was the only power she had over the alpha. But her frustrations were short-lived, and once the hurt of Khelt's rejection had faded she was able to put her negative feelings to rest. He even took her aside a few days later, giving her what she assumed was an attempt at an apology. It was clearly hard for the man to admit when he was wrong, but it was endearing to hear him try.
"Winter is a hard time for all of us, even me," he said. "And I may have let my wolf's temper take control for a moment. It will not happen again, but remember—there are matters I would prefer not to share with you. I will leave the alpha outside my den for as long as you agree not to invite him back in. Let the time we share together be pleasant for both of us."
She had accepted his apology, even though it contained the clear message that he had no intention of baring his soul to her in the way she wanted. It was hard for her to justify raising the topic again after that, even though she was more curious than ever to find out what had driven the wedge between him and Adel.
She still preferred passing the weeks of winter in Khelt's bed rather than in the noisy cave with the rest of the group, where several times she was forced to bear intimate witness to the confrontations between agitated pack members. Every time a pair of snarling wolves faced off she tried to muster the same enthusiasm as her companions, but once teeth had broken skin and blood was spilling across the cave floor her discomfort returned. All the reassurance in the world was not enough to stop her thinking about how such vicious injuries would feel if she was on the receiving end of them. Perhaps she needed a wolf inside her to tap into the primal spirit that joined the rest of the pack together in a throng when every confrontation began.
If there was one good thing that came of the violent challenges, it was that Netya overcame her nausea at the sight and smell of blood. By the time the third fight broke out—an altercation between Vaya and Tal, who seemed to have grown tired of asserting their dominance between the furs that evening—Netya found herself able to watch from start to finish without experiencing the familiar turning of her stomach. It did little to improve her enjoyment of the fight, but at least she no longer had to look away half way through to prevent herself from vomiting.
Even as she sought refuge in Khelt's bed, however, she became more aware of the distance between herself and the alpha. A strange distance. A distance of the soul rather than the body. It was something she would have consulted the seers over if not for her aversion to setting foot anywhere near Adel's lair. While every day she found herself growing closer and more attached to Fern, Erech, and the rest of the group who shared their fire, she still felt like nothing more than a consort to Khelt. She longed to know what lay within his heart. Caspian seemed to know, but he spent so much of his time in the seers' cave that she barely had the chance to speak with him all season.
And so, as the months of winter passed, Netya continued to take Adel's herbs. She kept the bag bundled up with the assortment of belongings she'd left in her snow-covered tent, returning every few days to collect a small handful and stash them safely in a pouch she kept tied inside her clothing close to her stomach. The more she thought of becoming a mother, the more the idea of being bound to Khelt concerned her.
Seeing the way the other mothers and fathers were together, she wanted the same for herself and the father of her children. If it was to be Khelt, she did not know how they could ever be so intimate when he was still her alpha and she his concubine. Besides which, the morning sickness of one of the other girls who had fallen pregnant earlier in the season was an uncomfortable reminder that motherhood was no free and easy undertaking.
If and when Khelt finally opened up to her and claimed her as his mate in everything but name, she resolved to stop taking the herbs. But until then, she did not wish to be bound to the promise of motherhood.
Spring came not a day too soon, and Netya was ecstatic when the weather allowed her to go out into the wilderness again, where she could ride on the back of Fern's wolf and explore all of the new plants the melting winter snow had unearthed. Even Erech managed to join them when they did not stray too far. The cold weather had been hard on his leg, but in the shape of his wolf he was able to limp along with more ease than two legs allowed, and rather than training for the hunt with the other men he instead spent most of his time in the company of his female friends.
"My place will be open for another hunter to claim this year," he said one afternoon as they returned home, him riding on the back of Fern's wolf as Netya walked alongside them. "I would rather you take it than anyone else. Nathar has not stopped hounding me over it since the season began."
"I do want to learn how you hunt," she replied, "but the last time
I tried to help Vaya left me with a broken nose. What if I make a mistake again?"
"You have the alpha's blessing to hunt, and you speak our language as well as Fern speaks yours now. I think you are ready."
"But you have spent your whole lives hunting. Back in my village, only the men learned those skills."
"Every apprentice has to start somewhere. You must find one of the older hunters to be your mentor, then everything will start falling into place."
Fern barked and stopped for a moment as she put out a paw to prod at one of the other girl's skinny arms, shaking her head and making an exasperated whine at Erech.
Netya smiled. "I think Fern is right. I do not have the body of a man to help me with those skills."
Erech shrugged. "Then practice. I cannot run every morning as I used to, but I still keep the rest of my body strong by using it every day. You could be strong enough to throw a spear in time for your first hunt."
Netya had noticed at the end of the summer that her slender form had taken on a slightly more toned, wiry quality, like Fern's. Just through the daily tasks of foraging and walking for several miles at a time, she had become stronger and healthier, even if it was not to the extent of the rest of the pack. Her skin had even taken on a hint of the darker complexion her companions shared from being out under the sun so regularly. The winter months spent inside had dulled that, of course, but now that warmer weather was on its way she felt hopeful about regaining the physique of a more powerful woman.
She admired the hunters and their prowess, even though she had yet to witness it first hand. The stories they told made it seem like a masterful game that tested both strength and wits to their limit; how Khelt had once gone toe to toe with a giant mountain cat and come back without a single scratch to show for it, or how many years ago Oke managed to encircle a herd five times the size of his hunting band and corral it for miles out of a rival pack's territory.