by Avery Kloss
Knowing it would rain, most draped pelts over their shoulders, standing by the graveside, as our leader, Lascox, said words, then our healer, Mannoc, offered up a prayer to the gods of the sun and the moon, asking them to watch over the woman.
At my height, I saw little of this, standing towards the back of the group with Kia and Ara, our presence not especially welcome. I shivered just as the first drops of rain fell, not having a pelt for protection. When it poured in earnest, soaking the ground at my feet, I began to tremble, my shoulders shaking uncontrollably. I wished the healer would speak faster, desiring to seek shelter somewhere dry.
“She shall be remembered for all she was, a dutiful wife and caring mother,” said Mannoc, grasping at the fur around his neck. “She will be missed by her family and all those that knew her. She is now in the arms of the sun, where she’ll find the peace she so rightly deserves.”
I scooted nearer to Kia, her arm going around me. “You’re cold. Go back to the fire, if it hasn’t gone out yet.”
“No,” I managed through my chattering teeth. “I’m fine.” One of the stray dogs rubbed against my leg, licking me. “Stop that.” I must have spoken too loudly because several people turned to look at me, Ronan among them. He wore a thick pelt around his shoulders, his hair wet from rain.
Breaking from the group, he approached, reaching for me. “Come here. You’re soaked to the bone.” Grateful to him, I wound my arms around his neck, feeling warmth, as the pelt covered us both. “Is that better?” he murmured, his tone rumbling in his chest.
“Yes, thank you.” I continued to shiver, but it felt wondrous being near something so soft and warm, the coldness quickly vanishing. A loud crack thundered across the sky, the sound echoing. It startled me for a moment.
“It’s nothing,” he murmured. “But we might see more rain, I’m afraid.”
People huddled together, the gravesite filling with water, the flowers around the dead woman floating. I glimpsed Enwan’s approach, as he gathered Ara in his arms, holding my sister close, while offering half of his pelt to Kia. The three of them stood together, with Ronan and I close, listening as our healer spoke. Members of the clan cast odd looks our way, eyes glinting with disapproval, but I failed to understand their censure, not knowing why we should be forced to stand in the cold when they took shelter beneath fur.
After the ceremony ended, men tossing dirt into the watery grave, I refused to let go of Ronan, the man taking me with him to his camp, where the fire hissed and smoked, the flames gone. I needed him for warmth, but I sensed he used me as well, Kia and Ara joining us, sitting in a huddle upon a damp, smelly pelt with another overhead. We spent the rest of the day like this, with two mangy dogs, who sought a reprieve from the wet and cold.
Ronan grumbled, “We should’ve built a real shelter.”
“We weren’t supposed to be here this long,” muttered Enwan.
Having lain on our back with the pelt over us, I snuggled into Ronan’s side, his arm around me, with Kia and Ara in-between and Enwan on the other side. The dogs curled up at our feet, grateful to be out of the rain. Just when the rumble over our heads ceased, another line of storms drifted in, the wind blowing harshly at times.
“The gods are angry,” said Kia.
“Why would they be angry?” That statement made little sense. “We’ve done nothing wrong.”
“No one knows, but the gods. They know all. Something displeases them.”
“Or it’s just bad weather,” said Enwan. “It’s nature.”
“Did they not want us to bury the body?” How could the gods be angry about that? “If you don’t bury the dead, they smell very bad. We had to do it.”
“It might be something else.” Kia sighed. “Who knows what the will of the gods are or what they want. First there was the attack, then this. It’s a sign of bad things to come. It’s been calm for too long.”
“If you choose to see it that way,” said Ronan. “I look at it as the weather, nothing more. This place hasn’t had rain in a while. It needed it. Game shall be more abundant now. New berries will grow. I think it’s a good sign.”
Kia remained oddly silent, digesting his words.
“I agree with Ronan.” I felt pleasantly warm and happy to be dry. Fingering the pendant, I adored my new necklace, vowing to never take it off. Ronan’s chest rose and fell with each breath, his body far longer than mine, his feet nearly peeking out from beneath the pelt.
“You’re very kind to offer shelter,” said Kia. “We thank you greatly … for everything you’ve done for us.”
“You’re welcome. I’m happy to help those in need.”
“I know you’ll leave soon enough, but, until then, you’re welcome to our berries and nuts and whatever else you might desire.”
“Enwan and I thank you for that, but we’re quite satisfied now.”
“Please don’t leave us,” I begged. “You mustn’t ever leave.”
Laughter rumbled in his chest. “It’s because of you I’ve been here this long. I wonder how I shall extract myself from this cloying little crab. What do you think, Enwan?”
“You’re a fool,” he said simply. “You let her get under your skin. She’s worse than a pet. She speaks. Her soft words move your heart. She’s the only one you listen to.”
“That’s not true at all,” he blustered, his body tensing.
I lay with my cheek against his chest, the beating of his heart filling my ears. “Please don’t argue. Let’s just … ” I yawned, “sleep for a while.”
“Is it a sin to have sympathy for fatherless urchins?”
“You’ve grown too attached. Your soul will be unduly burdened when we go. Then I’ll have to listen to you complain about not having her near. I’m aggravated thinking about it now. It’ll be intolerable later.”
“That’s not true in the least. I don’t know why you’d say something like that, Enwan. It’s simply not true.”
“Well, we shall see, won’t we?”
Soft snores filled the makeshift tent, Kia having gone to sleep. Ara yawned, while a rumble of noise echoed over our heads, the rain intensifying again. I pondered their conversation, hating that they spoke of the time when they would leave. I did not like that idea at all. Not one bit.
Sleeping before the sun had set, we woke far too early, the men leaving to hunt, although a few remained to protect the women. Kia, Ara, and I ventured across the river, whose banks rose, swollen with the water of the recent rain. The water came up to my neck, leaving me shivering with cold after fighting my way through a strong current to get to the other side.
“We should make quick work of this,” said Kia, holding a lengthy stick. She eyed the trees warily, her nostrils flaring. “I don’t want to encounter those cats. We’re done for, if they find us.”
Foraging under the weight of danger, I cast wary glances back and forth, my senses alert for unusual sounds. As we ventured further into the wood, several trees had toppled over, their roots exposed to the elements. The ground felt sodden, the smell like fresh earth and decomposing leaves. I stepped upon chunks of sod, my feet and legs covered in filth. We stopped to pick berries then, Ara having discovered a bush.
Without the benefit of direct sunlight, we labored in the shade. What I wouldn’t give for the feel of the sun upon my shoulders. A branch splintering in the distance caught our notice, Kia holding the stick firmly.
“We shouldn’t stay much longer,” she said. “Those might be edible as well.” She pointed to greyish little mushrooms, the ground littered with them. “They aren’t poisonous.”
I picked them, tossing as many as I could into the basket. “I’m ready, if you’re finished, Ara.” Her basket appeared nearly full. “This is a blessing, isn’t it?” I grinned, happy with our efforts. It felt good to walk and stretch my legs, having been beneath a pelt for too long, waiting out the storm.
“We should return.” Kia never once relaxed, her attention on forest, her look wary. “I wish my eyes
ight were better. I can hear better than I can see.”
I scanned the surroundings, at the evergreens and trees, a few having fallen, laying haphazardly upon the ground. “It’s peaceful.”
“For now,” she murmured.
We gathered our things, heading towards the sound of the rushing river, with waves lapping against its rocky edge. I hated the prospect of being wet again, holding the basket over my head, as I waded to the other side, the water splashing my face. Although mostly deserted, a few women and children remained at camp, several men standing guard, although they each lingered near a fire.
Having been wet and cold the day before, it felt wondrous having the cooking fire, although it smoked. Ronan and Enwan had the presence of mind to protect a pile of wood beneath a pelt, keeping it mostly dry. I wrung out my hair, shivering from the cold, wishing Ronan would return. I eyed the forest expectantly, yearning for him, but he failed to appear.
“We needn’t wait for them,” said Kia, holding a basket. “Have some berries and mushrooms. Eat.”
I took a few, chewing, while in thought. “Thank you, but we should save some for Ronan and Enwan. They’ve been most kind.”
She squatted by the flames, tossing in another stick. “Yes.”
“You can admit to liking them, Mamma.” I smiled, feeling tired, yet happy. “They’re nice men.”
“It’s only because he’s grown attached to you.”
“No. He was kind from the beginning.”
She looked as if she might object, but movement from the woods caught her notice, relief flooding her features, the tenseness lessening at once. “They’re back.” Several men dragged game behind them, a few carrying carcasses over their shoulders.
“We shall feast tonight.” I glimpsed Ronan and Enwan among them, bringing in what would be supper. “I’m starving!”
Chapter Ten
Many days passed before foraging became enjoyable again, Ara and I laughing and singing, while picking our way through abundant bushes. A few women noted us crossing the river; therefore, they came this way as well, although they avoided our path, giving us a wide berth. This displeased Kia at first, but she knew it was inevitable. It worried me that the area would soon be picked clean, as we had few new places to look for berries and edible greens.
All talk of Ronan and Enwan leaving ceased, Ara coming over to sleep with us at night now, lying next to me in the middle of the pelt with the men on either side. The clan no longer thought this strange, having come to accept it, although poor Kia slept alone now. One of the camp dogs kept her company, the animal quite large, his fur a matted mess.
Often when we finished the meal, we sat before the fire grooming ourselves, either picking at our teeth with sticks or combing through hair using wood carved into sturdy prongs. Ronan slowly began the task of untangling mine, although it frustrated him greatly.
“Sit still,” he murmured, the comb snagging in the hair, hurting my scalp.
“Ouch!”
“You should take the time to do this more often, Peta.”
“I don’t have one of those things.” I pointed at the implement he used to torture me, grinning.
“I’ll make you one. It’s easily done. You could do it yourself.” He held it before my face. “See how it’s made. All you need is a flattened piece of wood. Then you use a stone to carve out three or more tongs. It’s not complicated in the least.”
I eyed his hands, seeing their strength, and doubting mine could accomplish such a task. “I don’t know.” Sitting before him, I crossed my legs over each other, leaning into his chest. “You may continue.” Despite the pain, I adored having him touch me, the attention enjoyable.
He chuckled at that. “It’ll take many nights to fix this mess.”
“It’s good you’re here then.” Speaking of leaving upset me greatly. I preferred him this way, content at camp and not wanting to venture to other lands in search of his ideal home.
Enwan returned with an armful of firewood, throwing the bundle down at his feet. He grimaced, glaring at us. “You two are a pair,” he grumbled, hands settling on lean hips. Gazing around, he seemed to take interest in a cooking fire a few feet away, a woman there with her children.
I glanced between them, realizing something unspoken occurred. When she got up from the pelt and wandered into the woods, I knew what they were about, Enwan following directly. Ronan noticed this too, but he said nothing, working the comb through my hair, although, more often than not, it caught on a tangle. A short while later Enwan emerged, wandering back to us.
“That didn’t take long,” I whispered.
“What?”
“The mating.”
“Who’s mating?”
“Enwan and that woman over there.” I pointed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
I giggled, “Liar! You saw them too.”
“You’re not supposed to know anything about that, Peta.”
“I know Kia and Lascox mate all the time. They take longer.”
He coughed, his body shaking. “Don’t say that too loudly.”
When Enwan approached, he appeared in better spirits, his tense expression gone. “Shall we cook the meat? I’m famished.”
“Peta thinks you mate too quickly,” quipped Ronan, grinning. “You weren’t gone very long.”
He frowned, clearly irritated by that statement. “It’s none of your concern how long I take … never mind that. I wasn’t mating. I had to … relieve myself. You’re mistaken.”
“Of course,” said Ronan. “Our mistake.”
An uncomfortable feeling hung about us now, and I somehow knew I had said something I shouldn’t have. “I can try to do it.” I reached for the comb, meeting Ronan’s eyes. “Thank you.”
He smiled warmly. “I don’t mind. In a way, you’re my little pet. You keep me company and warm at night. I’d like to see what you look like with your hair straight. It’s a challenge. I don’t think it’s ever been combed.”
“No.” I picked at a toenail. “When something foul gets caught in it, Kia cuts it out. She once cut it all away. I had almost no hair then. It felt nice, but it didn’t keep my neck or shoulders warm.”
“If you take a little time to groom yourself, you can have nicer hair, Peta. It can be functional and pretty.”
I had never thought of it that way, Kia and Ara not caring in the least about such things. “I’ll try.”
Enwan sat next to us, having tossed in more firewood, the heat of the flames warming my legs. “When you’re done fawning all over each other, you might want to look at this on my back. I’ve no idea what it is, but it’s beginning to hurt.” He turned slightly, offering a view of a rather large bump near his shoulder. “What is that?”
“I’ll have a look,” said Ronan. He pressed the odd bump with his fingertips. “It feels soft.”
“Ouch,” muttered Enwan. “What is it?”
“There’s something beneath the skin.”
“Then get it out.”
Having been distracted from doing my hair, Ronan no longer found me interesting, his attention on his friend. Getting to my knees, I glanced at what they found so diverting, seeing a round bump beneath the man’s skin.
Ronan scratched his beard, appearing thoughtful. “I can try squeezing. Perhaps it’ll come out, whatever it is.”
“Try it. I'm tired of it. It’s clearly not going away.”
“How long has it been like this?”
“Many days now. It started small, but it’s grown, as you can see.” He eyed me. “And you find this amusing, do you?”
I hadn’t known I smiled until then. “No.”
“You’re laughing at me. You find my suffering funny.”
“I do not. I only wish to help you.”
Ronan felt around the bump, pushing it from side to side, although that did nothing to it. Then he squeezed, which made Enwan shout.
“Stop it! That hurts!”
“Perhap
s we should bring the healer,” he said. “This might be more than I’m capable of. I don’t even know what this is.”
“Our healer isn’t very good. Everyone who goes to him dies.” I had seen it time and time again. “Your chances of surviving are far better right here.”
Enwan laughed at that, mirth shining in his eyes. “You’re amusing, I’ll give you that much. I can see why Ronan adores you.”
He never uttered such pleasantries before, and I found I enjoyed hearing them. “What if we … stuck it with a spear tip? Whatever’s inside might come out.”
Kia, having seen us in discussion wandered over, her look inquisitive. “Is something the matter with his back?”
“A strange bump,” I said, pointing at it. “It feels soft on the inside.”
She leaned in, having a look. “Lance it.”
“See,” I grinned, “just as I advised.”
The idea of having his skin broken in such a manner did not appeal to Enwan, a scowl wiping the humor from his face. “Just a little. If nothing happens, then leave it. I don’t wish to walk around with an open wound.”
“What if bugs crawl out?” That thought horrified me. “I don’t think I wish to see this.”
“Bugs will not come out.” Ronan reached for a spear, getting to his feet. “I’ll point it straight in the middle. Help guide it, Peta.”
Sickened by this notion, I backed away from him. “No.”
“I’ll do it.” Kia knelt beside Enwan, as another member of the clan approached.
“What’s the matter?” he asked, an amused look on his face.
“It’s nothing,” muttered Enwan, color creeping onto his cheeks. “Go away!” After he left, he muttered, “I don’t need the entire camp here watching this.”
