Angry Hands

by L Christina

  They arrived at the top of Dethina’s favorite riverbed. “What a shame the day is so cold or we could lie in the sand.”

  Absently, Laiden nodded in agreement. “Yes.”

  In unspoken agreement, they made their way to the bottom of the gully. Despite the cold, Dethina sat down, lay back, and then shivered. “It’s much too cold to enjoy,” she said wistfully.

  Laiden leaned over her. “What if I kissed you?” he asked, his voice was husky.

  “That might be nice,” she answered in a hopeful whisper.

  He closed the distance between them and grazed her cheek with his lips. His hand stroked her neck. “Dethina,” he whispered, before he covered her lips with his own.

  Laiden ignored the first dawning awareness that the crashing noise in his head was not his heart beating but in fact distant thunder. Then suddenly, the reality of the risk they were taking set in, and he rolled to his side.

  “Dethina! Quick, get up! It’s raining in the mountains.”

  “Just a little more.”

  “No. The water may come at any moment.” He listened uneasily for the sound of rushing water.

  “But I didn’t get to kiss you,” she objected as he pulled her up.

  “Some other time,” he said as he scrambled for the side, dragging a reluctant Dethina with him.

  They reached the top of the gully, and a light rain started. “We’d better get back to the hut. Caris might worry.” Dethina nodded glumly. The magic had passed.

  By the time the couple reached the hut, they were wet through. Caris urged them into the interior, and then lowered the leather flap door. “Laiden, when the rain started, I brought your bedroll inside to stay dry. If the rain keeps up, you might prefer to sleep indoors tonight.”

  “Thanks, Caris.”

  The rain came down harder. While Laiden hopped outside to find some dry wood in the bottom of the woodpile, Caris rummaged around for a meal of dried venison and piñon nuts.

  Chapter 9

  The sun rose over Sol revealing a clean, swept landscape. Surface dust had been washed from the terrain, leaving brighter colors, darker soil, and greener leaves. Tiny orbs of water remained on the end of pine needles reflecting miniature suns. Laiden was struck by the beauty he frequently took for granted and felt a powerful sorrow that Dethina was unable to share the sights. “I’ll fill the water jug,” he offered as he picked it up and started on the errand.

  Dethina wondered if Laiden was anxious to be away from her. After they had returned yesterday, he had remained in the hut with Caris and herself. But he had been very quiet. She wondered if he was regretting the kiss. But it had been so wonderful, so incredibly exciting and pleasurable, so totally consuming, that her mind had gone blank to everything else, even the danger of the wash flooding.

  She wished more than usual that she could see, maybe get a clue to what Laiden was thinking. She sat down in her usual place on the log bench and started rolling sword leaves into cord. The familiar monotony was therapeutic. She heard Laiden returning with the water before she smelled it. Mint. That meant that Laiden had gone to the closer pool to get water. That’s where the aromatic plant grew.

  His steps crossed in front of her, and she heard him lower the jug. He spoke to Caris, “Orey told me that mint grows at the lowest pond. I thought you might like some so I pulled up a handful.”

  “Thanks,” Caris said. “I’ll make some mint tea to go with our early meal.”

  As Dethina continued twisting sword leaves, the smell of mint suddenly became powerful. Someone had crushed a leaf and was waving it in front of her face. Lightning quick, she reached out and grabbed the teasing hand. Laiden laughed. “I brought a sprig for you, too. I thought you might enjoy the fragrance.”

  “I do. I love it. Thanks.”

  Laiden put the sprout behind her ear.

  Dethina reached up to touch it. She rubbed one of the leaves between her fingers then inhaled the fresh aroma. Her senses became acutely aware as she listened for his every movement. But instead of Laiden, she heard something else. “Father.” Dethina stood and faced the path that led from the mountains. Caris and Laiden stood also.

  “I’ll go check,” said Laiden. And he ran off toward the path.

  Chapter 10

  The men had returned. Jubilantly, they herded a captured wisent between them. Hobbled and blindfolded, the animal, docile at the moment, obediently allowed itself to be led.

  The hunters were welcomed with a flurry of hugs, exclamations, and excited questions. Dieth had one arm around his bonded, Caris, and the other around Dethina. Treefrog was embracing his family in a group hug, and Bront was swinging Sodi around as if she weighed no more than a small child. Several voices could be heard at the same time as stories were told by a combination of the three men, each interrupting the others.

  They had tracked the beast for two days before Bront had been able to use his bola to tangle its legs. Even then, it had put up an energetic fight against the rope bonds. The fact that it had tired itself struggling was the only reason they had been able to hobble it safely.

  Laiden regarded the impressive animal as the men anchored it between two pine trees. It still had a leather blanket secured over its head. The animal was as tall as Laiden, and had a massive head and shoulders. Laiden suspected if it hadn’t been confused by its missing vision, it would be a powerful adversary.

  The women began cooking. Tonight they would light the central fire pit and feast in celebration of the men’s safe return. Pottery bowls clattered, food stores were combed for tasty treats, and they discussed what each should bring.

  Still on an edgy emotional high, the men spent the day checking and rechecking the wisent and discussing its future. During a lull in the activity, Laiden found Treefrog sitting outside his hut bouncing one small son on each knee. Squealing with delight, the toddlers held fast as their father’s legs moved up and down faster and faster until he grabbed them both in a fond bear hug. “That’s enough wisent riding for today,” he said, kissing their fat cheeks.

  Treefrog set the boys down and watched fondly as they began playing with a pile of pinecones. “They bring purpose to my life,” he said proudly. “Laiden, thanks for staying while we went on our adventure. I would not have gone if you hadn’t been here.”

  “I’ve enjoyed my stay,” Laiden admitted. Treefrog stood up, and they wandered toward the trophy animal for another look. “Treefrog, I need some sharprock for spear points. I asked Orey where I might find some, but he said the nearest source was a two-day trip.”

  Treefrog nodded. “I need some, too. The stock we keep is running low. Someone has to make the trip and bring back another supply.”

  They stopped to watch the wisent. Although standing peacefully, Laiden was struck again by the strength the shaggy animal must possess. “I’ll get the sharprock if someone can give me directions,” he volunteered.

  Treefrog studied the animal. “Why don’t we both go? We can bring back twice as much.” He turned to Laiden. “But I don’t want to leave tomorrow. I just got back from a trip. If you can wait till the day following, I’ll go with you.”

  “I can wait till then,” Laiden agreed.

  In the distance, Laiden could see that Dieth sat on the log bench between Caris and his daughter. The three sat very close together; Dieth had his arms around the women. Although Laiden would like to visit with Dethina, he was reluctant to intrude on the family. Reasonably, he realized he couldn’t resent Dieth monopolizing Dethina; he’d been gone most of a moon.

  Feeling a little envious of the family’s affections, Laiden decided he would check the snares. On his return, he stopped at the wisent again. The animal snorted and swung its head. The trees shook, and loose pinecones fell, startling the wisent. It pulled uneasily on the ropes. Now that it had regained its strength, Laiden had some misgivings about the villagers’ ability to keep the beast subdued and tethered. He stepped back. He must tell Dethina to be wary of the animal.
>
  Chapter 11

  The evening’s celebratory mood was similar to the first night Laiden had arrived. A great blaze had been set in the ceremonial fire pit. Dishes of food were passed around. The first bowl had a colorful mix of white yucca petals and mint leaves. The next bowl contained venison jerky soaked in juniper sauce. A plate of ground and roasted seed cakes followed. Laiden lost track, but took small portions from each bowl as it passed by.

  Earlier the men had collected a pile of pinecones. And while they related the wisent capture again, they took turns throwing the cones into the fire. Showers of sparks shot into the night as the flames reached the pinesap. Laiden studied Dethina across the fire. Firelight variegated her face as she looked blankly toward the flames. He’d watched her as the bowls passed; she had taken them as gracefully as if she could see, eating small bits of food as easily as the others .

  The food was finished, and Sodi brought out a jug of purple cactus tea. She held it high before passing it around. “For the wisent God,” she saluted cheerfully. The jug sloshed through passing hands, and some of the contents splashed out among laughter.

  Despite the revelry, Sodi noticed two figures who seemed oblivious to the festive atmosphere. Dethina was looking downcast and forlorn, while on the other side of the fire, Laiden kept mooning in her direction. Sodi carried a soft spot for Dethina. There had been a lonely element in the girl’s life. In addition to being blind, the girl had grown up without any other children. Never having had the experience of playing, Dethina seemed to have stepped straight from toddlerhood into an innocent sort of adulthood. But the young woman had accepted her life’s challenges without complaint. She was generous with her time. From cords to baskets, her busy hands had contributed many useful items to the village. Sodi made small talk with her for a while, and then said, “You seem distracted tonight.”

  Dethina paused before confiding, “I think I’m in love with Deer Rider.”

  Sodi surmised Deer Rider must be a pet name for Laiden. She eyed him surreptitiously as he stood alone at the edge of the fire. Flames danced up and cast shadows over his brooding face.

  “I wish I knew how he felt about me.”

  “Be patient,” Sodi said thoughtfully. “Perhaps he’s sat on the deer so long it’s difficult to get off.”

  Bront started singing. It was a painful noise, and the others groaned good-naturedly before joining the sentimental ballad.

  Laiden hadn’t planned that kiss. Well, not consciously. But in the back of his mind, the desire had been there. It just seemed like the right thing to do at the moment. He was anxious to talk to Dethina alone. He’d decided to stay in the village if she would have him. He would request a Tribal Circle and bid on her.

  The mountain villages of Back Bone followed the custom of bidding for women. Many generations ago, men stole woman in tribal raids. From Sol to Brumal, while the men were fighting, they captured women against their will. As the fighting increased, so did the gods’ displeasure.

  One particular season, the gods granted fine weather and heavy crops. The easy living gave men time on their hands and they used it to make war against each other. Many men were injured. The gods were furious and sent a great sickness through the villages. The villager’s beseeched the gods for mercy, and promised that there would be no more fighting. Men would ask the women to join them.

  So bidding began. A man wanting to bond with a woman should bid gifts to her at a Tribal Circle. She was free to accept or decline.

  As the celebration ended and the villagers went to their huts, Laiden made a plan for seeing Dethina alone. “I’ll sleep under the stars,” he told Dieth. And he removed his bedroll from the hut where he’d slept the night before.

  Chapter 12

  When Laiden was sure the village was asleep, he picked up the water jug and emptied the contents. Now someone, Dethina, he hoped, would be obliged to go for water first thing in the morning, and he would be waiting for her. He rose early. First, he ran to the lower pond, picked a sprig of mint, and returned, where he left it on the bench for Dethina to find. Then he went to the upper pond where he hoped Dethina would soon arrive with the empty water jug. He felt somewhat guilty that she would have to make the extra trip for water, but consoled himself with the thought that he would carry the jug back after they had spoken.

  Even though Laiden was an experienced hunter and practiced in the art of patience, his anxious wait seemed unreasonably long. Finally she appeared; using her tapping stick, she gracefully navigated the familiar path. He watched in admiration as she filled the water jug. “Dethina.” It was almost a whisper. She faced him with a gasp and held the jug firmly in front of herself as if for protection.

  “You were gone this morning,” she said, with a catch in her voice.

  Laiden silently surveyed her. The simple sincerity of her words and the bereft tone she used encouraged him. “I’ve been waiting for you here,” he said. There was a sprig of mint in her hair, and Laiden reached out and took it. “Mmm. Mint.”

  Her head tilted. “I thought you’d left it.”

  “I did. I’m glad you found it.” He tucked it back behind her ear then let his fingers trail down her neck. She turned her head in that unconscious way of enjoyment that made his heart beat faster. Her arms had tightened around the water jug. He stepped closer. “Dethina, are you afraid of me?”

  “No. I’m afraid of myself.”

  Laiden gently took the water jug and tapping stick from her. He set them to the side where she could find them easily. “Maybe if we stand close together, we’ll feel safe.” He pulled her into a warm embrace and put his face to her hair. The smell of mint. This was the time to ask. “Dethina…”

  “Shh. Let me see you again,” she demanded as her fingers skimmed over his face. Quickly they explored and descended to his neck and shoulders. Her lips began to examine his collarbone until the tip of her tongue touched the hollow of his throat.

  “Spirits. What are you doing to me?” He pulled her face up to his and began his own exploring kisses. Laiden gripped her in a life-bracing hug. He needed her. “Dethina,” he tried again. He was going to tell her something, but he forgot what. Words were so difficult; maybe his embracing arms would convey how much he loved her.

  “Dethina!” At the sharp rebuke, they snapped apart. Dieth glared at Laiden as he addressed his daughter. “Dethina, your mother is waiting for that water.”

  With a stricken look on her face, Dethina reached down and fumbled for the tapping stick and water jug. She hurriedly sloshed away and left the two men facing each other. Dieth scowled. “I took you in as a guest. Dethina is a gentle girl, innocent and naive by your standards.”

  “I plan to stay if she will have me. I was just asking her if she would accept my bid.”

  “That’s not what it looked like,” Dieth bit out. But curiosity vexed him, and he asked, “What did she say?”

  “We were interrupted.”

  Dieth looked at Laiden warily. “Have you thought this through?”

  Laiden ignored the implied question, referring to her blindness, and answered the question of when instead. “Yes. Tomorrow Treefrog and I are going for sharprock. When we return, I will request a Tribal Circle and bid on Dethina. After we are bound, I intend to have a hut of our own.”

  “Mmm.” Dieth nodded reluctantly. It might work.

  Chapter 13

  For the first part of their journey, Laiden and Treefrog were able to move quickly up and down the low-lying Back Bone mountains. But the last bit required them to climb steep, gravel cliffs. The footing was tricky, and they had to use any foothold or handhold they could find. Several times, Laiden grabbed a bush and prayed it would hold his weight. He contemplated the return trip when they would be carrying heavy packs of sharprock. It would be many times more difficult. He mentioned this to Treefrog. “We don’t carry it,” Treefrog said. “We bundle the rock in tight balls and roll it down. Don’t worry. You’ll see.”

  The
air turned cold and clouds gathered. By the time the men reached the sharprock, they were winded and happy to take a rest. Looking back over the steep terrain they had just climbed, Laiden noted the big cumulus clouds were ominously darker. “Looks like rain,” he said.

  Treefrog shrugged. “Normal for here. Nothing to worry about.”

  After gathering a good-sized pile of sharprock, Treefrog divided the pile in two and showed Laiden how to tightly bundle the hand-sized flakes into a tight ball. Each ball was a good weight, as much as a small child. “These will roll down the steep slope by themselves,” Treefrog explained. “When we get to the bottom, we pick them up and carry them the rest of the way.”

  The clouds became thick, and darkness fell early. Fortunately, Treefrog knew of a rock outcrop where they could spend the night and stay dry. They squashed into the back wall as the rain started. For several hands of time, the rain was peaceful and the men tried to sleep. But somewhere in the night the lightning started. Thunderbolts of angry fire exploded down to earth. They were joined by a pummeling rain. Water poured off the overhang.

  “It’s raining awful hard,” Laiden commented.

  Treefrog nodded as he looked through the waterfall. “I suppose. I hope it stops so we can return home tomorrow.”

  Laiden felt uneasy. “I’d feel better if we were with the others.”

  Treefrog looked at him. “Are you afraid?”

  “No. Not for myself. But all this water will be running down to the village.”

  Treefrog shrugged. “They’ll be okay. The huts are on high ground, and they won’t go out.”

  Treefrog’s dismissive attitude didn’t ease Laiden’s anxiety. But the wicked thunderous roars of lightning and falling water made further speech difficult, so Laiden kept his thoughts to himself. The men eventually slept and discovered the next morning that thankfully the storm had tired itself out.

  Just as Treefrog had planned, the heavy rock balls rolled easily down the steep hillside. They didn’t always stop where intended, but it was still easier to push them rather than pack them down. Once the men reached the bottom, they would have to carry the heavy bundles the rest of the way.