Angry Hands

by L Christina

  “We’ll be careful,” she said absently. Laiden started to relax. Well, the warm earth did feel good as it conformed to his body. “Pick up some sand and sprinkle it over your body,” Dethina suggested. Laiden obeyed. He closed his eyes. Yes, that did feel good. “Hmm.” He was so relaxed. Tension and energy vanished, and Laiden’s body felt as limp as wilted flowers. He lay in the sand for two hands of the sun then reluctantly forced himself up. The sand was getting hot, and he didn’t want to risk getting burned.

  He looked around for Dethina and was shocked to see her lying in the sand, her shift folded carefully next to her and her tapping stick across the top! With nothing but a thin layer of sand covering her body, Laiden now understood why her father didn’t like her to come here.

  “Dethina, we should go. The sand is getting hot, and we don’t want to get burned.” He was surprised he could even speak.

  “Okay.” Slowly she stood, and the sand slipped from her body like a blanket.

  Laiden swallowed hard. The falling sand revealed a youthful figure of sensuous female proportions. He watched as she rolled her head and shoulders before she leaned over and picked up her shift. A surge of uncontrolled reactions took over his body. Spirits! His sweating hands held this man’s shirt while his chest gasped in large amounts of air. A light-headedness descended over him.

  “That is so pleasant,” she said innocently as she tapped her way up the embankment.

  Laiden stumbled after her. “Yes,” he strangled out. His mind was unable to think of anything to say. But Dethina didn’t seem to notice, absorbed in her own state of contentment. Laiden accompanied her back to the hut. “You, uh, you work on that elk skin.” He berated himself for sounding flustered. His pride and self-confidence had been completely shaken. He needed some time alone to regain his composure. He thought desperately for a reason to leave. “I might explore the area a little bit. I’ll be back before the evening meal.” He hurried off before Dethina could respond.

  Laiden crossed the gullies and dry riverbeds to climb the sun-rising hill. When he’d gone far enough, he found a boulder to sit on. Unable to appreciate the view, he looked absently into the distance. Spirits. The glimpse he’d seen of her body had ignited a fire in him that wanted to burn out of control. He would never look at her the same. And while he had been rattled to the bone, Dethina had obviously felt nothing but the usual relaxing pleasure of the sand. If he wasn’t careful, he would be acting like a besotted fool. He let out a great sigh. It was going to test his inner strength to behave in a normal fashion while in her company.

  Chapter 4

  The aroma of elk steak filled the air by the time Laiden returned. Good, it would be easier to distract himself while Caris was present. She had thin strips of the venison laid out on her cooking stone absorbing heat from the fire. When the meat was brown, she picked up a stick of pine, speared a piece, and then expertly rolled it around the skewer before handing it to him. “I wonder how the men are doing,” she remarked.

  “They should be in the wisent territory by now,” Laiden responded. A dribble of juice ran down his stick. The meat was tasty; Caris had marinated the slices before cooking them. The ends had been singed crispy, but the inside was still tender and juicy. Dethina unrolled and ate the meat bite by bite. She chewed slowly. As he watched, he was pleased he could observe her undetected.

  After the meal, Caris fussed with her seeds until she said, “Dethina, I’m tired after today’s long hike. I’m going to my sleeping mat now. Good night, dear. Good night, Laiden. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then she slipped into the hut.

  Laiden was dreading an awkward silence, but Dethina causally asked, “Did you discover anything this afternoon?”

  “A little. I scouted a few tracks that look promising,” he fogged the truth.

  “I thought of you the whole time that I was working on the elk skin,” she admitted. “Maybe you could tell me some more wandering stories.”

  “Yes. Let me think of one.” What was she doing to him? The admission that she had thought of him all afternoon stirred his body up all over again. He let out a breath. Spirits. “I went as far as Brumal.”

  “It’s far?”

  “Yes. Many moons walk.”

  “Did you like it?”

  “Not really. The food is strange, and it’s bone-chilling cold. But the people were nice. They don’t get many visitors, so I was quite a novelty.” He threw a few sticks on the fire that Caris had left smoldering. “The animals are different. The deer are larger, with beautifully shaped antlers. Their bears are larger too—three times the size of ours. I didn’t see any live bears, but I saw skins hanging on the walls of the tribal lodge. They’re meaner and fiercer too.”

  Dethina listened quietly, tilting her head now and then.

  Laiden continued. “They’re known to be man-eaters.”

  “How scary.”

  “Yes. Their claws can be as long as your fingers.”

  Dethina stroked the length of her fingers while she absorbed this information.

  “It’s so cold there you can never go in the water.” Laiden continued colorful stories until they both yawned.

  Dethina rose and picked up her tapping stick. “Good night, Laiden. I’ll miss your stories when you’re gone.”

  “I hope they’re not going to have nightmares,” he said with a laugh.

  “Not while you’re out here protecting us.”

  Chapter 5

  Long before the sun rose above the mountains, an essence of a glow hinted its arrival. Laiden was glad for an excuse to rise. He had not slept well. And he didn’t want Dethina to guess the reason. He would hunt eggs before the others rose. It seemed a useful item that there was never enough of. Quietly, he found the egg basket and set off. He passed the water ponds and started up the incline toward the juniper trees.

  The sun seemed to move fastest in the morning, as if it were anxious to get the day started, and it was over the mountain before Laiden realized he had been gone so long. He was pleased that his morning’s effort had replenished the egg basket. He retraced his steps toward the hut and caught sight of Dethina hauling the water jug. “Dethina, wait,” he called as he approached. “Let’s trade,” he said as he took the heavier burden in exchange for the egg basket.

  Recognizing the feel of the egg basket handle, Dethina took the basket and gauged its weight. “It’s never weighed so much. Mother will be thrilled.” She began tapping her way back to the hut.

  “I’ve been thinking,” Laiden said. “I should be doing some hunting.”

  “Can you hunt with your injured arm?”

  “Yes. But I need some more spear points. Where do your men get the sharprock for weapon making?”

  Dethina frowned. “I don’t know. I think it’s a hard day’s walk. Usually, two men are gone overnight when they get it. They bring back a heavy load, enough to share for a long time.

  Laiden considered this. If the village kept a supply of rock, perhaps Orey, the elderly man who had stayed behind, could tell him where it was kept. “Thanks. I’ll ask Orey.”

  “Yes, he can help you with that better than I can,” she agreed as they reached the hut.

  As Dethina predicted, Caris was pleased about the egg basket. “Oo. So many eggs! I’ll cook some with bee nectar.” She picked up her wood tongs. “But now, sit down. I have some cactus paddles waiting for you.”

  Chapter 6

  The elderly man, Orey, welcomed Laiden’s visit. “Come, let’s share a mint chew,” he said as he produced some soft leaves from the fresh smelling plant. “It grows down by the bottom pond, and my daughter, Birdsong, picks it for me.” Orey handed Laiden several limp pieces and stuck one in his mouth to chew. “How do you like the village?”

  “It’s very nice here.” Laiden chewed the mint softly, letting the flavor ease out. “I noticed some peccary tracks in the riverbed yesterday. I thought I might hunt one for the village.”

  Orey put another leaf in his mouth
. “That herd’s regular. They go to the low desert at night to eat paddle cactus, then come up here to drink water from our pond. They’re well fed and grow big.” He held up a finger. “You be careful. They attack hunters.”

  Laiden rolled the mint leaf around his tongue; he could smell its flavor. “Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. But before I go, I need to make more spearheads. Do you know where I can find some sharprock?”

  “Yes, we keep a stockpile.” He looked thoughtful, “Although, come to think of it, no one’s made a sharprock run in a long time. Well, let’s go out back and see what we’ve got.” Orey rose painfully to a stooped position. “Getting the kinks out,” he rasped. As Laiden followed Orey’s wobbly steps, it struck him that the elderly man was really too old to be Birdsong’s father. Laiden shrugged—none of his business.

  They approached a disappointingly small remnant pile of sharprock. “Here we are.” Orey poked around in the pile. “Yeah, it’s getting thin, but there’re still some good pieces here.” He pulled a couple of small chunks from the scattered fragments.

  Laiden looked at the pile in dismay. The rock pieces were barely large enough to knap small arrowheads. It would take a hand-sized slab to make the spearhead he had in mind. “Thanks, Orey.” He didn’t want to sound ungrateful. “I’ll come back when I figure out just what I need.”

  “Sure, now you know where it is. Just help yourself.”

  Laiden decided to recheck his supplies. Then he would poke around in Dieth’s baskets. There might be spearheads or extra rock in one of them.

  Dethina was twisting sword leaves into cord when Laiden arrived at her hut. “Did you find what you needed?” she asked.

  He stopped a body length from her. “How did you know it was me?”

  She stopped turning the leaves and faced him. “I recognize your stride. Everyone’s is different.”

  “How is mine different?”

  She tilted her head in thought. “Purposeful. Strong. Confident.”

  Laiden’s definition of a man was bold, solid, and honest. He was pleased at Dethina’s description of his footfall. He moved closer and picked up the coil she was working on. He could make rope when required; though lumpy and uneven, it would serve its purpose. But this was a work of art. The spiral weaving was flawless and symmetrical, every twist exactly like the next.

  Laiden felt a humbling lump in his throat. He had misjudged this young woman in so many ways. She had skills and talents that he couldn’t begin to compete with. “This cord is beautiful, Dethina. I’ve never seen work so perfect.”

  Dethina smiled self-consciously as she resumed her twisting. “Thank you, I’m glad you like it. It’s for you. Before he left, Father asked me to make you a length.”

  Laiden continued to examine the finished end. “I’ll never be able to use it. I’d be afraid of wearing it out.”

  “Don’t be silly. You can think of me every time you use it.”

  “I’ll think of you more often than every time I use the cord.”

  Chapter 7

  Using Orey’s information, Laiden scouted a spot at the lowest pond where the peccary made regular visits. He blocked most of the access to the water by rolling large stones around the shore of the pond and leaving only a narrow pathway. To get to the water, the peccaries would be forced to squeeze through the tiny opening, and this is where he planned to set his snare.

  Laiden arrived before the darkness was solid. He carefully laid the snare before climbing a tree directly over the gap in his rock barrier. Waiting was uncomfortable. The cramped position made his legs tingle, and the rough bark dug into his skin. But he waited patiently. He occupied his mind with the beauty of the stars.

  It was many hands of time before four peccaries arrived snuffling around for water. Laiden waited quietly. The wary animals snorted suspiciously before reluctantly passing one at a time through the small opening and crossing over the loop of cord. Laiden waited. Annums of experience prevented his reflexes from pulling the cord too soon. The first two peccaries skittered uneasily through the rock funnel. The third, seeing no danger, started lazily over the loop. Laiden pulled the noose with lightning speed, lassoing the careless creature. The cord swung wildly as the airborne peccary struggled to free itself. Below, the others chattered their tusks in a threatening panic before racing off.

  Delighted at the game, the women of the village shared the animal among themselves. Laiden gave credit to Dethina’s cord for his success, and she modestly smiled at the attention.

  After rubbing the cord with bee’s wax, Laiden wound it in a lose coil and stowed it in his pack. It was fine quality, and he was proud to own it. The thought came to him that he might give something to Dethina. But what? A new pot? Leather? No. He reflected on his visits to other villages. Women seemed partial to soft things and ornamental pieces like ear dangles and necklaces. They usually required shell, bone, or ivory beads. Maybe a hair ornament of feathers and…Laiden scanned the landscape, wondering what material he could use for a hair ornament.

  Eventually, he decided on pinecones. There were plenty about, and he had no trouble finding just what he needed. He removed some scales, and using a sharprock fragment, he carefully drilled holes in the narrow ends. He gathered three fluffy feathers, and using a thread of sinew, he tied the scales and feathers together at different lengths and secured them to a twist of bone. He held it up satisfied as the objects swung artistically from the bone hook.

  Chapter 8

  For the morning meal, Caris served a cooked cereal of ground seeds mixed with egg. As usual, the meal was delicious. Laiden was relieved that she only prepared meat for the later meal. Without the sharprock to make spearheads, he was unable to kill the larger animals that would feed the whole village. He began to worry about his ability to provide enough game until the other men returned.

  “The men should be returning soon, shouldn’t they?” asked Caris.

  “They could. Enough time has passed,” Laiden agreed.

  “Do you think they’ll have a wisent?”

  He nodded. “Very likely.”

  Laiden decided to catch some small game. He returned to the sharprock pile that Orey had shown him and collected a few finger-sized pieces. The edges were razor sharp; at least these would be useful in his task at making snares. The small animals he caught would likely attract larger predators. Without a new spear point, Laiden didn’t want to bring any attention to the village, so he hiked a good distance away before he found a suitable place to set his traps. Many hands of time had passed, and a wisp of cloud passed between the earth and sun as he returned to the village.

  Dethina was twisting cord. Laiden watched her until she spoke. “I know it’s you, but I can’t see what you’re thinking.”

  “No one can.” He laughed as he sat on the bench next to her. The log was smooth and shiny with wear. She must have sat here for large amounts of time working. “But I’ll tell you what I’m thinking. I think you’re very industrious, always working.”

  Dethina made a mock pout. “And here I’d hoped you were shocked silent by my beauty.”

  How close she’d come to the truth. “Do you have time to walk for a while?”

  With a smile, Dethina put her cording aside. There had been a charming hesitancy in his request, as if he were afraid she might say no.

  She rose with her tapping stick. “Where would you like to walk?”

  “Nowhere in particular.”

  The stick tapped leisurely in front of Dethina as they strolled side by side. A passing cloud shaded the ground.

  “Where will you wander after you leave us?” Dethina asked.

  “I don’t know. I should be thinking about that. But my stay has been so pleasant, it slipped my mind.” An eagle flew over, and Laiden idly wondered if there was a nest nearby. Eagle feathers made good trade. “Your father said the village doesn’t get many visitors. What about traveling merchants? Do they stop by?”

  “Rarely. We’re so small that t
hey don’t bother coming this far out of their way. If we want something that we can’t make ourselves, one of the men will hike out to the Back Bone trail and wait for a merchant there.” Dethina changed the subject. “How’s your arm?”

  Laiden laughed. “Almost better. See.” He put her hand on his arm. Brushing up and down, she stroked the sight of the injury, her fingers lightly inspecting the healing wound.

  “Yes. It’s much smoother.”

  “As soon as it happened, I tied it and held it to stop the bleeding. I’ve been lucky. Since it dried, I haven’t banged the scab open.”

  In an amiable silence, they continued walking along the familiar path, avoiding divots and rocks until Laiden said, “Dethina, I thought you might like to have this.” He put a mystery item in her hand.

  “Feathers.” She brushed them across her face. “On a string.”

  “It’s supposed to be a hair ornament.”

  Dethina tilted her head. “A what?”

  “A hair ornament.”

  “Oh.” She leaned the tapping stick against her leg and inspected the piece, trying to ascertain its purpose. “Where did it come from?”

  “I made it.” Laiden took it from her and twisted the hook into her hair. “It’s a hair ornament,” he said a little awkwardly. He could tell by her expression that she was still mystified. “The women in the higher mountains wear them. They’re supposed to be pretty.”

  “Is this…” She patted her head. “It feels pretty. I love it.”

  Laiden took the tapping stick from her leg. He touched her elbow and slid his fingers down her arm until he was holding her hand. Gently he guided her along the top of the dry riverbanks. “The first day that I was here you told me that you weren’t born blind.”

  “Yes. That’s true.”

  “Do you remember what anything looks like? Any colors?”

  “No. I guess I was too young to realize what was happening, and how important it would be to remember as much as possible. I do remember…”

  “Yes?”

  “It sounds like I’m complaining.”

  Laiden squeezed her hand. “Tell me anyway.”

  “I remember wanting to run. Mother wouldn’t let me. She made me sit all the time.” Dethina made a small laugh. “Of course, now I understand. She was probably worried that I would fall.”