“You will get sick if you drink too fast.” Kaichen murmured in apology.
The woman flinched as if his words caused her pain. He found himself holding the woman against him as he rinsed her wrists with water. When she did not fight him, he knelt beside her legs and quickly rinsed her ankles.
Amara watched as the man bent over her feet. She knew that she should move away but his solid strength held her in thrall. The tone of his voice captured her attention fully. He spoke low tones and there was a raspy sound to his words that had little to do with thirst.
Her eyes remained on the corded strength of his arms and when he encircled one foot with his hands she felt the calloused surface of his palms. So far, he had not harmed her. It was true that the pain in her ribs still brought tears to her eyes but when the man wrapped the skin around her, urging her to lift her arms overhead she had felt immediate relief.
She could not understand his words, but he growled low in his throat as he lifted her right ankle to examine it. His fingers squeezed which caused pain to flare up, but she held her breath and did not cry out. His eyes held a silent apology even though he methodically cleansed her wounds.
The other man stood over them as he watched the proceedings critically. Amara’s first sight of the other man had caused her to gasp in dismay simply because he had the muscle and mass of a warrior. He stood a head taller than the man that had saved her life only to take her captive.
Amara did not hope. She did not pray or ask that they spare her life. She shook from head to toe with shivers that would not cease even though the sun was directly overhead. When the man tied a small strip of cloth around each ankle, she flinched involuntarily.
She waited for her chance to strike out at her captor as he sought to tie her legs together. Fighting did not help. That was the lesson Amara had learned at the hands of the other warriors. They laughed at her weak attempts to fight off their grasping hands and stinging slaps. Only the order of their leader had stopped the men from violating her completely but she knew true humiliation because of those men.
She took comfort in the knowledge of their deaths. She was grateful to the man that pulled her to her feet because he had killed those that took her from her people. Amara shook with anger and deep sadness.
She saw that the man had her flute slung upon his back and without thinking, she grabbed for it. He must have sensed her attack for he turned, effectively blocking her forward progress.
Amara stood still. She expected a blow for her insolence, but the man merely stared at her, reading the desperation in her eyes.
Perhaps he enjoyed her fear and panic, just as the other men had, perhaps now he would cause her harm. The larger man walked forward and lifted the flute from the other man’s back. He silently handed her the instrument even as she accepted it although she refused to meet his gaze.
“This is hers. She wants it back.” Antuk handed the instrument to the woman.
Kaichen nodded as he noticed that the top of the woman’s head barely reached his shoulder. Her hair glistened darkly in the sun, catching the light.
“Drink.” Kaichen held up the waterskin and waited patiently as the woman accepted the life-giving liquid.
He could not afford to spare his water the way that he had already done by cleaning the woman’s wounds. He knew the land that they traveled over and water was not nearby.
They would be fortunate if their animals did not give out before they reached more water. However, Kaichen could not abide the woman’s acute suffering.
She murmured something too quiet for him to hear as she accepted the waterskin. He looked away as her tongue darted out, catching the last drop of liquid before it fell. She continued to stare at the ground, but he noticed that though her hands still shook, they did not tremble uncontrollably as they had before.
“She is very quiet.” Antuk complained as he studied the small woman. “I do not think she understands our language.”
Kaichen simply nodded, he was not a man to speak simply to fill the silence and Antuk had never had a problem filling in the silence for both of them.
“You are safe now.” Antuk kindly assured the woman as she rigidly clasped the empty waterskin and her instrument in her hands.
Kaichen took the waterskin from her but he was careful not to touch her fingertips. She flinched each time he touched her and the injured look in the woman’s eyes touched him deeply. The woman stood despite the pain in her ribs.
“You must return me to my village.” Amara’s hands cradled her injured side as she spoke to the warrior with the unreadable gaze.
The man beside him shifted from foot to foot as if wracked with indecision.
“You speak Dejali.” Kaichen was finally able to place the sound of the woman’s language. He had learned her tongue as a young boy, under Azin’s guidance. Antuk’s brow furrowed in confusion as Kaichen switched over to the woman’s language.
The woman’s eyes widened as Kaichen spoke to her in her own tongue. She nodded her head with a jerk even as her eyes brightened with hope. She stared past his shoulder and Kaichen glanced behind him as understanding dawned.
“I cannot let you leave.” He heard the woman gasp even as he turned his head to face her. “If I allowed you to return to your people, you would die. You were taken captive, were you not?”
“Yes. I was taken from my village. My mother…she fell and did not rise again.” Amara struggled to speak but she could not continue as the full enormity of her loss overwhelmed her.
“We passed through a small village yesterday; it rested beside a hunting trail that we followed. We did not find recent burial mounds. There were too many for us to bury.” Kaichen watched the woman’s face carefully as he spoke.
It was highly unlikely that raiders would take the time to bury those that they killed. Burial mounds would have been newly formed only if there had been other survivors. The woman seemed to come to the same conclusion. There was not any hope that others had survived. Kaichen silently vowed that he would have Azin send men to care for the bodies of the dead.
Grief etched itself against the woman’s face. He was surprised by the desire to reach out a comforting hand to her, if ever a person needed comfort, it was this woman.
“I must return to my village.” Even as Amara spoke the words she wondered if anyone remained. The warriors that had taken her had tied her up and for a time the screams from her people had drowned out all other sound.
Kaichen knew that they were better off continuing on than trying to return. Even if he did not have an urgent journey ahead of him he would not return the woman to her village simply because she could not possibly survive on her own.
“I cannot allow you to go. Perhaps when my purpose has been fulfilled we can return you to your people.” Kaichen’s jaw hardened as the woman stared at him without further comment.
He knew what the warriors had done to the people of her village and he would not send her back alone. Most of the people that spoke Dejali were cultivators of the land, much like his mother’s people, they were not warriors but hunters.
Kaichen only knew the language because it was one of the things that Azin insisted that he learn.
“What are you saying to each other?” Antuk’s question was mildly distracted as he stared at their surroundings. Kaichen did not answer and Antuk turned his attention inward, as was his way.
“What is your name?” Kaichen was unable to tear his eyes away from the woman’s upturned face. Likewise, she gazed at him with an intensity that was almost tangible.
Her wide eyes roved over his face and she left nothing out of her inspection as she took in his appearance and form. His black hair was long and unadorned. She saw that his elongated eyes were as dark as a moonless night, shaded only by the dark frame of black eyelashes. The rugged plains of his face and the slope of his nose appealed to her. His jaw was hard and firm and the slightly upturned twist of his lips reminded her that he had asked her a question.
&nbs
p; Amara touched her tongue to her dry lips as she looked up at the burning sun. She hesitated to answer the man’s question but she could not find a reason to deny him. No reason at all.
“My name is Amaranth but I am called Amara.” She glanced once at Kaichen and then looked away.
Kaichen looked at the woman with new understanding in his eyes. She was named after the food of life, the grain that the people of the land planted and harvested was called Amaranth. It was life-giving, sustaining and full of nourishment. Some varieties of the grain had blooms that blossomed even in the desert sun. Amaranth.
The name was fitting and yet it was one more detail that made the woman better known to him. Kaichen could not say why this bothered him, yet he knew only that it filled him with yearning.
Her name was like the quiet exhalation of a long held breath released upon the wind. It circled within the confines of his mind until he found himself silently uttering the name over and over again. Amaranth. Amaranth.
He did not stop to question why the woman’s name was like a long forgotten memory. He accepted that it was exactly as it seemed.
“Her eyes hold water.” Antuk intoned as he stared into the distance.
Frustration caused Kaichen to run his hands through his hair. He did not know how to comfort a weeping woman. He was a hunter, a man that knew how to strip down a young sapling and make a bow that would aim true and straight. He glanced down at the stubborn tilt of the woman’s chin and he noticed that she held her tears inside. Kneeling before the woman, he reached out a hand to her and he was inordinately pleased when she did not flinch away from his touch.
“Weep.” Kaichen had opened his mouth to tell her to cease weeping. He was stunned to hear himself encourage the woman to release the tears that already threatened to overflow.
She turned luminous eyes up to him and her gaze was open, honest and filled with pain. She inhaled sharply as her tears overflowed. Kaichen settled down beside the woman. He knew that he wasted precious time comforting her when they should be traveling. He knew that he needed to return to the village at once, but he could do nothing less than hold her as she wept.
Amara tried to fight the tears that threatened to burst forth, she had managed to remain silent and unyielding ever since the death of the men that had captured her. She felt as if she had cried enough to last a lifetime but at the first comforting touch of the man’s hand against her shoulder, she wept anew. Her tears came unbidden and without control. She sobbed with deep, wracking waves of grief as she clutched the tunic the man wore and breathed in the heady scent of the land, sun and water.
Kaichen stroked Amara’s hair, marveling over its softness and the innocent way that she clung to him. After a time, her tears ceased and she rested limply in his arms. She did not fight him as he firmly bound her ribs with narrow strips cut from his own tunic. Her sigh of relief told him that the bindings helped immensely. Yet, he knew that the pain caused by her injuries was not the only reason for her tears.
“Thank you.” The appreciation in her voice was evident to Kaichen and it humbled him. He nodded but did not respond.
Turning his attention back to Antuk, he narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. Antuk had remained curiously out of sight while Kaichen comforted Amara. Now he returned as if he knew that the worst was over.
“You saved my life, my friend.” Kaichen knew that he had surprised Antuk.
His friend showed signs of embarrassment but in truth Antuk’s volley of arrows had persuaded their enraged enemy to run and flee. He had even managed to wound the man that would have fought Kaichen to the death.
Now that they were relatively safe Kaichen could see that Antuk had only been trying to help him and he winced as he tried to forget how close Antuk’s arrows had come to slamming into his back and face.
“I will aim better next time.” Antuk spoke mildly as was his way. “Perhaps Azin would have been proud.”
Kaichen nodded. He knew that if he glanced up he would see pride in his friend’s eyes. Antuk had been a disappointment to his uncle, though Azin tried not to show it. He could not hide the concern he felt for his only nephew. Azin said that Antuk had a greater purpose yet to be discovered.
Antuk had the size and bulk of a warrior, but his mind was often boggled down with other thoughts and he could not pay attention to what was of vital importance.
Kaichen did not mind such traits in his friend. Perhaps it was because his life had become a study in control, mastery of weapons and fighting. Antuk’s inability to master any one thing had intrigued Kaichen from the start.
“Perhaps tomorrow we will find something good to bring back to the village.” Kaichen spoke to Antuk first in his tongue and then in Dejali for Amara’s benefit.
She had watched their conversation intently and her eyes were wary. He realized that she felt excluded when they spoke words that she could not understand.
“You men are hunters?” Amara wanted to believe the man that stood before her, but he was dressed as a warrior.
At Kaichen’s affirmative nod she took in his well made animal skin vest and fitted leggings. His feet were covered in moccasins that were finely stitched and decorated.
The other man was just as well dressed and he was armed as a warrior. She counted two short spears, one long spear as well as a large bow and quiver of arrows. He wore an array of knives that were fashioned to fit into a belt strapped over one shoulder. It was difficult to believe that these men were simply hunters.
“It is not safe to allow you to wander by yourself without a village or band to return to. You must come with us to our village. We will seek the guidance of the village leader; he will know what to do.” Kaichen’s words did not leave room for argument.
He was confused by the feelings evoked by the brave young woman standing before him. He wanted to protect her and shelter her from harm. He wanted to touch the softness of her skin and press his face against the hollow of her throat. She stood before him, undecided, with eyes as large as a young doe.
He tried to see past the loveliness of her features to the person within. The yearning that the woman’s presence brought forth was so powerful that he felt blinded by it.
If anyone from the woman’s village survived the raid then they had been taken captive or they were already dead. Kaichen urged Antuk to keep watch over their resting place while he made preparations for the night ahead.
They would not hunt before the sun took its place of rest. Tonight they would keep watch and they would find little comfort in the darkness of the night.
It was by chance that Kaichen caught sight of the buck’s antlers, nestled within the hedge of bushes that offered shelter. If the animal had been a doe, he would have allowed it to pass.
Females were needed to bring forth young during the beginning of the warm season. Azin had taught him to respect the ways of balance.
If he killed a young female, who was to say if there would be enough young born to feed their village during the coming season? Kaichen had learned these lessons well. He motioned for Antuk and Amara to remain silent and wait. Amara had remained silent and watchful throughout the morning. He was not certain that she had even slept during the night. Fatigue was plain to see as she stumbled to a halt.
Kaichen’s bow was strung with a blur of motion that was almost too quick for the eye to follow. He inhaled and sought his target before releasing one arrow after another.
Killing a deer was difficult, if the animal was not felled by the first shot it would often run until it tired. Searching out an injured animal in the heat of the day was not only dangerous but foolhardy.
Kaichen knew that Antuk would look after the woman if needed, but he did not want to let the young woman out of his sight. Though he had sought to reassure her, she still appeared shaky and fearful.
Amara watched in stunned fascination as the man before her displayed the skill of a trained hunter. She watched as he sent arrow after arrow flying toward the buck.
The la
rge animal never stood a chance of escape. A lump formed in her throat as the animal collapsed. She watched as the man strode forward with sure steps. He ended any chance of suffering with the sharp blade of his hunter’s knife. He murmured a few words that were indecipherable and then he placed a multicolored feather upon the ground.
Amara had never watched as an animal was brought down. She was a woman and as such, it was not her place to take part in the hunt.
Like all women, she was adept at skinning an animal’s hide and working the skin into clothing, moccasins, and a multitude of other uses. Even the sinew could be used to make string and rope. Nothing was wasted.
She held her breath as the man set about quartering the meat from the buck and severing the antlers from the animal’s skull. Both men worked side by side with practiced movements, in perfect harmony.
Soon the meat was strung up so that it hung far above the ground out of the reach of predators. Antuk stepped forward with a stone that was used for scraping the flesh from the inside of the animal’s skin.
Amara could see that the men were used to working without the help of a woman. She knew how to scrape a hide and work the skin until it was supple. When she stepped forward to help the warrior that had placed the killing arrows grunted and shook his head.
“You are injured. Do not move, we are almost finished.” True to his word they made quick work of the animal’s skin. The larger warrior quickly buried the entrails and preserved the organs, after washing them clean with the last of the water.
Without any more speech between them, Amara watched as the men prepared to leave. She glanced back at the meat that hung from its place and he seemed to understand her concern. What if a predator came upon the meat before they were able to return? Even though her situation was dire and her future uncertain, she did not seek to waste something as hard-won as the meat from the buck.
The Last Sundancer Page 5
