The Mask of Tamirella

by Dana Davis

  She peered from the corner of her eyes to see if Marjordan noticed her. The healer was busy checking medical supplies. No one else seemed to be paying any attention, either. Ian studied a map. Paul and Whit studied each other. And Sam had gone into the bushes to leak.

  Natjulie nudged her. “Why don’t you see if Marjordan will let you visit our sub-sanction for a few days after we get home.” She was back to her talkative self. “I’d love for you to see my room. I dried some flowers last spring and decorated my walls with them. The colors sure brighten up everything. I can’t wait to get home.”

  Cait thought a moment. She’d never been one for decorating. Her own room was pretty sparse, except for a few items that had once belonged to her father and mother. “She won’t let me travel alone. But she’ll probably want to deliver Whit’s baby.”

  “Oh, that’d be perfect. You could stay with us. We have an extra room. At least, we do until the baby comes.” She grinned and twirled her braid with her fingers.

  “I’ll bring it up with P-Marj. But not until we’re closer to home. She’s anxious to get back to her patients and that tends to distract her.” She glanced at her primary. The woman’s eyes searched the ground, and Cait knew she was looking for medicinal herbs.

  ****

  Ian urged the group on until noonmeal, and by the time they stopped again, Cait was famished and her legs ached from all the riding. Stiffly, she dismounted and walked the soreness from her muscles. She led Graypony to graze with the other mounts at the tall grass near a pond. The group ate a quick meal and got back onto the trail.

  By nighmeal, they’d reached the flat hilltop just before the last mutant forest. Evidence of their previous stay lay on the ground in the form of charred, fire rocks. The rest had been washed away by the recent rains.

  Again, Cait walked off the stiffness in her legs. Her nerves frayed a bit as she gazed out at the nearby forest. She wondered about the little, one-armed mutant girl. Part of her hoped to see the child again. She had no desire to run into any dagbeasts, though. Her calf ached at the memory of the dagbeast bite and she stiffened. A hand on her shoulder made her jump.

  “Calm down, Cait,” Marjordan said. “Help with nighmeal.”

  She followed her primary to the remains of their last fire, where fresh logs had already been placed. There she rummaged through a large saddlebag for the stew pot. The men were out hunting harerabbit. Whithelen stayed behind to guard the campsite. By the look of pure dejection on her dark face as she paced the edge of the hill, staying behind was probably Marjordan’s idea. Nat and Sam brought water and filled the pot. Marjordan got a fire going and placed the pot on a makeshift rack over the flames.

  In the distance, a dagbeast howled its presence and Cait shivered. An insect buzzed near her head and she swatted absently at it as her eyes scanned the surrounding areas for danger. She saw nothing, except a few birds. She realized her primary spoke to her.

  “What?” she said, not looking at the woman.

  “My bag,” Marjordan said impatiently. “We’re going to need herbs for this stew.”

  “Oh, right.” She retrieved the woman’s bag and crossed to the fire. Another dagbeast howled in the distance and she dropped the herbs. “Sorry,” she mumbled, as she scooped up the bag and held it out for her primary, who squatted and poked at the fire.

  “Sit,” Marjordan told her. “You won’t be good to anyone unless you get control of those jitteries.” When Cait stood staring at her, Marjordan reached up and pulled her to the ground. “I told you to sit, girl.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She flopped onto her bottom and pulled her knees close to her chest. Her mind was on dagbeasts, though.

  Marjordan studied her a moment then pushed a bag of tubers into her hands. “Wash these.” One hand placed a bowl of water near Cait’s feet.

  She did as she was told but her gaze often drifted to the surrounding area.

  Her primary let out a sigh. “I’m going to give you some calm-tea before bed.”

  Jitteries. Cait had them bad and she nodded.

  The men returned and cleaned the harerabbits for stew. After nighmeal, the group bedded down, with Whithelen on first watch. Cait lay on her blankets near the fire and stared out into the darkness of the forest. She hadn’t heard any more dagbeasts and her primary’s tea settled her nerves a bit, but she still found it hard to sleep. She watched Whit as the warrior walked around the slumbering group toward her.

  “Can’t sleep?”

  Cait sat and shook her head. “All I can think about are those damn dagbeasts.”

  Whit nodded and glanced out into the darkness. “Haven’t heard them in a while. I think they’ve gone the other direction.” She absently scratched at the old scar on her shoulder.

  “I sure hope so. The fire didn’t deter them last time.”

  The warrior laid a comforting hand on Cait’s shoulder. “I’ll watch over you, girl. Get some sleep.” She smiled the way Marjordan did sometimes, though her dark skin made her teeth stand out against the firelight.

  Cait lay back, pulling her blankets close under her chin. She was glad to have someone else do the worrying. The day’s efforts had drained her and she soon fell asleep to the sound of the crackling fire.

  ****

  Something woke her and she bolted upright. It was still dark. At first, she thought the dagbeasts had returned but things were still, except for the fire and some insects chirruping in the distance. A large shadow moved nearby and she sucked in a breath before realizing it was Ianandy. He made his way to her so quietly that she barely heard his footsteps.

  “Ho, girl.” He squatted and leaned toward her. “Everything all right?” One hand rubbed at his cropped hair and glistening eyes studied her. The fire burned strong.

  “Yeah. I must have been dreaming.”

  “Well, morn will be here soon. You should finish sleeping.” His chin scar stood out in the dancing firelight.

  “I’ll try.” She smiled to reassure the man.

  He nodded and ruffled her hair. She started to protest his gesture but he pushed her firmly down onto her blankets and stood to finish his watch.

  She must have fallen asleep again because when she opened her eyes the sun was up and the others were awake or stirring. She turned onto her side to watch the forest. It seemed much less threatening in the daylight. Someone slapped her lightly on the buttocks and she turned to see her primary.

  The woman stood over her with a ragcloth in her hand. “Get up, lazy.” She smirked and she tossed the ragcloth onto Cait’s head. “There’s soap on one of the stools and a bucket of water.”

  Cait snagged the towel from her face and stared up at her primary. Sleep haze clouded her mind and the woman’s words took a moment to register.

  “The cold water will wake you.” Marjordan placed her hands on her hips. “Up, up, sleepy. We’ve a lot of traveling still to do.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” She got stiffly to her feet. Her tight thigh muscles needed a rub. She stretched and yawned broadly then sauntered to the wash area. The cold water did help revive her and soon she was hungry.

  The group ate mornmeal and packed their things, Cait’s thoughts on the upcoming mutant forest.

  ****

  This time, the trip through the forest seemed less threatening than Cait expected, and she found herself searching for the one-armed child. A couple of times, she heard something, probably a small animal, scamper through the brush, but enough to make her heart jump. The large trees provided shade and chilled the air even more. So much so, that she kept her sheepskin overtunic on for warmth.

  By noonmeal, they’d reached a small clearing. Afterwards, a satisfied stomach made Cait sleepy and she dozed against a small boulder. Nearby rustling startled her awake. The full-growns had their swords drawn. She reached behind her head, retrieved her own weapon, and was instantly on her feet.

  “Ho,” a small voice said from behind a tree.

  A boy, about four or five years old, stepped
tentatively from the trees. He had an enthusiastic but awkward grin on his face, and his features were different from anyone Cait had ever seen. A squashed nose with puffy eyes. The boy ran awkwardly toward Natjulie, squat, chubby legs marching through the grass.

  Ian moved to intervene but Marjordan stepped in. “Wait.” She spoke as a healer and the warrior froze.

  The boy grabbed the startled Nat’s waist and kissed her arm repeatedly as he gazed up. She turned an astonished face to the others. When Marjordan sheathed her sword and stepped to the boy, he grabbed onto her and repeated his gestures. She knelt, taking the child’s face in her hands. He giggled and caressed her face with chubby fingers.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Natjulie said.

  “He’s a forever-child,” Marjordan said. “He’s harmless but I’m afraid he won’t understand much.”

  “He’ll never grow up?” Nat said, squatting next to the healer. Chubby mutant fingers touched her face and she smiled.

  “Physically, yes. But his mind will always be a child.”

  “Oh.”

  “P-Marj? Won’t someone be looking for him?” Cait sheathed her sword and stepped close for a better look at the odd boy.

  “Probably.” Marjordan stood and turned to Ian. “We should get going before someone misses him.”

  They walked toward their mounts and the child followed.

  “Looks like we’ll have to secure him somewhere,” Ian said. “I don’t think he’ll stay behind when we leave.”

  “He can’t keep up with horses,” Marjordan told the man. “There’s no need to frighten him.”

  The warrior nodded.

  Whithelen still had her sword in one hand, while the other touched her belly. She looked ill.

  “P-Marj?” Cait nodded to Whit.

  Marjordan immediately crossed to the younger woman and placed a hand on her forehead. “You having pains?”

  “There’s a chance my baby could be like that boy, isn’t there?” Her bottom lip quivered.

  Marjordan pulled her back straight and flipped her long braid behind her. “I’ll not have that kind of talk. I told you I’m going to do everything in my power to keep your child healthy.”

  “I know. But—“

  “Enough!” She waved an annoyed hand at the warrior woman. “Do you need me to slap you out of your worry?”

  Whit took in a breath and gave Marjordan a stoic look. “No, Healer. I’m fine, now.”

  “Good. Let’s get moving.”

  Before anyone could mount, at least twenty full-growns stepped from the surrounding forest and encircled them. Most were obviously mutants and carried various weapons. Cait unsheathed her sword again and pointed it at the nearest one, a woman about her height. Her heart drummed against her chest and she heard a child giggle.

  Chapter 24

  Mutants

  “You’re not going anywhere.” A mutant man stepped toward the group, brandishing a huge sword, much too large for Cait to handle. His muscular arms bulged with the weight in his hands. Two fingers on his left hand were missing but that didn’t seem to hinder his agility with the weapon. His dark hair was cut short against his scalp, except for a single thin braid in the back.

  The little mutant boy ran to him and grabbed onto one of his legs. The man lifted the giggling child with one hand and gave him to a woman who stood nearby.

  “Drop your weapons,” the mutant warrior ordered, staring straight at Ianandy. Then he raised a brow. “My warriors are well trained.”

  Nat began to sob and Jenellen placed an arm around her.

  “Quiet, girl.” The mutant warrior didn’t sound angry, just annoyed. “If you cooperate, you won’t be harmed.”

  Ian kept his sword pointed at the man. “I know better than that, mutant.” There was pure hatred in his voice.

  “You know nothing.” The man met Ian’s scorn. After a moment, his face softened. “Do you really want to risk these children’s lives?” He eyed Cait with curiosity before focusing on Ian again. “I have twenty-three warriors here, and more in the woods.” He focused on Marjordan and his eyes widened so briefly that Cait wasn’t sure she’d actually caught the motion. “You’re a healer?”

  “Yes.” Marjordan kept her sword pointed at him.

  Then he did something that startled Cait. He bowed his head to her primary. “I’m honored, Healer. My name is Bradalin. Please, have your group sheath their weapons and come with us. I give you my word as a warrior that you won’t be harmed.”

  Suddenly, one of the other mutants grabbed Nat and she screamed. Bradalin pulled Nat from the man, pushing her back to Jen. He then knocked the man to the ground and stood fiercely over him, sword at the prone man’s throat.

  “I just gave my word that these people wouldn’t be harmed,” he said. “You’ll be punished for that.”

  “Yes, sir,” the man mumbled. He stayed in a prostrate position, until two others pulled him to his feet and dragged him away.

  The mutant warrior looked at Marjordan again. She sheathed her sword.

  “What’re you doing?” Ian protested.

  “We can’t win against this many, Ian,” Marjordan said.

  “They’ll kill us anyway, so we may as well fight.”

  She narrowed eyes on the mutant warrior. “I don’t think so.”

  For the first time, Cait saw a look of pure confusion on Ian’s face.

  “Please, put your weapons away,” Bradalin said. There was a hint of a plea in his voice. At least, Cait wanted to believe so.

  “Do as he says, Ian,” Marjordan said in a soft voice. “I believe him.”

  Ianandy shook his head briefly then sheathed his sword with a curse. “I hope you’re right.” He nodded to the others and everyone put their weapons away.

  Cait’s hands trembled as she slipped her heavy sword into its sheath. Nat cried softly and Jen held her close.

  “Thank you, Healer,” the mutant warrior said. He led the way.

  The mutants took the mounts and surrounded Cait’s group as they traveled further into the trees. They walked for at least half a mile before coming to a large clearing. As they got closer, mutant children scrambled into surrounding huts. The very young children stood watching, a little girl with a missing arm among them, until full-growns pulled them aside. A large fire-pit sat in the center of the clearing and several boulders and wooden benches had been placed around it. A strong fire gave off warmth.

  Bradalin urged the group to sit then he entered one of the huts.

  Cait stood close to her primary and the woman placed a comforting arm around her shoulders. Nat had calmed and sat between her brother and Whithelen.

  “What do they want?” Cait said in a soft voice.

  “I don’t know.” Marjordan pulled her down onto a bench. “We’ll have to wait and see.”

  Soon Bradalin stepped from the structure, followed by a woman. The woman moved quickly for someone using a cane. Her brown skin was a bit darker than Whit’s, like a rich tea, and she wore her braided black hair wrapped around her head in wreath fashion. Her face was smooth and Cait wondered how old she was.

  Can’t be much more than twenty. Barely into her full-grown years.

  The mutant woman said something in a language Cait didn’t recognize and Bradalin nodded. Then she stepped to Marjordan. “I’m honored, Healer.” She gave a slight bow of her head. “My name’s Drewemily. I hope you’ve been treated fairly.”

  “We haven’t been harmed,” Marjordan said.

  The young mutant woman scanned the group and motioned Bradalin to her. “Have some food and drink brought to our guests.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” He motioned a couple of women into a nearby hut.

  Drewemily crossed to Nat and the girl leaned into her brother. “Are you hurt?” The mutant reached out a hand to the girl’s face. “You’ve been crying.”

  “She’s fine,” Paulucas said disdainfully. He kept a protective arm around his sister. “Except your little beasts frightene
d her half to death.”

  The woman glared at her warriors then turned a softened face back to Natjulie. “I’m sorry. They were supposed to be civil. I don’t like frightening children.”

  Paulucas gave the woman an astonished look.

  “Drewemily?” Marjordan slowly got to her feet, probably to keep from startling the mutant warriors. “Why have you brought us here?”

  The young woman stepped to her. “I’m the only healer in this forest. And I’m afraid I lack training. My adoptive mother was killed by dagbeasts nearly a year ago. I was her apprentice.” She sat on a nearby boulder and urged Marjordan to do the same.

  Marjordan sat next to Cait again.

  “Some of my scouts saw you work on these two.” Drewemily pointed to Cait and Sam.

  “You’ve been watching us?” Ian said in an alarmed voice.

  The young healer smiled. “Yes. We watch all who travel through our forests. I sent some scouts to follow you. They observed you at the dig site for quite a while. Until the rains forced them back here.”

  Ian gawked at the young healer. Quite out of character for him.

  Drewemily looked amused. “You don’t think we’ve lived in the forests all these generations without learning discretion, do you?”

  Marjordan chuckled at that. “I must say, Drewemily. You’re not at all what I expected.”

  The young healer threw her head back in laughter, startling Cait for a second. Bradalin and a few others chortled along. Then she focused black eyes on Marjordan. “Call me Drew. Please. You mean the sacrifices? We started those stories, oh, several generations ago, to keep thieves and murderers from our forests. I’m surprised the tales survived this long.”

  “Then you don’t kill healthies?” Cait said, trying to steady her nerves.

  “Of course not, girl,” she said in an indignant tone. “Unless our lives are threatened. We can usually frighten trespassers away.” Her face softened and she smiled warmly, and Caitlanna found herself smiling back. “You’re young to carry a sword. A striker, right?” She turned back to Marjordan. “Do all your children learn to fight?”