Olivia

by R. Lee Smith

  “Food,” Bodual said.

  “Food,” Olivia agreed.

  “Right,” Doru muttered, hitching his loincloth on and buckling it down. “Food, fuel, more water, anything else?” When nothing was forthcoming, he withdrew and left them alone.

  Olivia had started to drowse off again when Bodual nipped at her shoulder and said, “Did you mean it when you said I could stay?”

  “I wouldn’t have said so if I didn’t.” She woke up a little and rolled over to face him. “Is there a precedent for this? Three together, I mean.”

  “Sure. Look at Wurlgunn.”

  “Wurlgunn isn’t coupling with Anita.”

  “You’re probably right, but as long as she lives with him, she might as well be.” He yawned, revealing cat-like teeth for an instant before his jaw snapped shut. “Two males with a single female is less common, but we have stories, so it must have happened once. And just think,” he grinned, “I’ll be the envy of the whole tribe.”

  “Doubtless.” She snuggled into his side. “And I’ll be the envy of every female, as if I weren’t already.”

  “You know,” he said, “every male wants to be with you in the pit, and that part is nice, but I’m glad that we’re friends. I could lie beside you all night, just to listen as you talk.”

  “You have lots of friends, Bodual.”

  “Well, I have Doru anyway. But I’d rather spend the day cuddling with you than do just about anything else with him.” He thought about it. “Not that there’s anything wrong with the way Doru cuddles.” He thought about it some more. “Actually, Doru cuddles pretty damn well.”

  “For an old guy,” Olivia said, and snorted laughter against the bedding.

  “I’ve known Doru for years and years,” Bodual continued contemplatively. “And I never knew how well the man could cuddle. Of course, that’s not really the sort of thing a man brings up, even to his friends. ‘By the way, Bodual, I just thought you’d like to know that I’m a pretty fine cuddler.’ That would just be awkward.”

  Bodual broke off abruptly, flipping onto his hip and sitting up. A second later, Doru came into the room, holding a bundle of food in one hand, a jug of water in the other, a stack of fuel logs riding high on one forearm, and an especially grim look on his face.

  “We need to stop sneaking off like this,” he stated.

  “What happened?” Olivia asked quietly.

  “Some idiot attempted to challenge Damark for Amy. Damark refused to fight, Amy refused to yield, and Horumn dragged her off kicking and screaming to the women’s tunnels. When Damark went to fetch her out, the same idiot challenged him again. Three times this happens in the course of two hours, and at the end of it, there was blood.”

  “Bound to happen to someone,” Bodual remarked.

  “Yeah, well, it happened to Damark, who now has a very unpleasant scar across the full length of his chest. And believe it or not, he won. His opponent was knocked unconscious for more than three hours. I understand it took three females to hold Amy back during the challenge…and I can’t believe there is a male in this mountain stag-headed enough to believe that Amy screaming violent murder was a human love call.

  “Meanwhile,” he continued, passing out balls of rice, “Sutung marched into the commons and ordered Hodrub to give him Sarahjay.”

  “Carla’s Sutung?” Olivia asked, surprised.

  “Not anymore, if you’ll recall. According to Crugunn—and if there’s a lick of gossip to be had, it’s had by Crugunn first—Sutung and Sarahjay have been meeting in secret since the moon was last full. I don’t know why he thinks that gives him some proprietary claim when she’s been mateless since Sung left with Vorgullum, but he heard about the chocolate and entirely lost his temper. Hodrub released her at once, and Sarahjay hauled off and hit him.”

  “Sutung?” Olivia remembered with real unease the frustrated way he had clawed gouges in the wall outside the forge.

  “No, Hodrub. For passing her off without a fight.” Doru took a long drink of water, poured a little over the top of his head and shook it off again. “Then she hit Sutung.”

  “Oh jeez.”

  “And Sutung hit back.”

  “Oh Jesus!”

  “They fought their way back and forth across the commons for a while, but for whatever reason, when it ended, she was following him back to his lair.”

  “Are you serious?”

  Doru shrugged. “And she’s still there, so who knows? Bad as that was, it couldn’t be any worse than what Carla was doing to him. Oh, and Ummnan tried to challenge Mudmar for Ellen and got his rib cracked for his trouble.”

  “Oh ouch,” Olivia said. “Is he all right?”

  “Tina says so, but this came very quick after the business with Damark and I get the feeling she’s thoroughly disgusted with all of us. Let’s see, what else…Augurr asked if he could fly tonight’s hunt under me.”

  Bodual snorted.

  “And I said yes,” Doru finished, giving Bodual a black stare. “I’ve lost Vorung to this foolishness and only just got Wurlgunn and Huuk back. As far as I’m concerned, if he can hold it point-end up, he can fly with me. What else? Tina says Gormuck’s baby is doing well. Cheyenne and Sarabee both still aren’t speaking to anyone, and Logarr killed himself.”

  Olivia choked on a mouthful of water. “What?”

  “Did he really?” Bodual said without surprise. “How was it done?”

  “Drowned himself. No one’s seen him for a few days, but then, he’s always kept to himself.” Doru shrugged again, now looking uncomfortable. “Someone noticed a smell. They found him face-down in a piss-canal.”

  Olivia’s last bite was like ash in her throat. She swallowed hard, looked at the skin of water in her hands, and said nothing. I am a tool, Logarr had said. And someone had just discarded him.

  “Ugly way to die,” Bodual commented, helping himself to an apple.

  “I’d feel for him more if I knew him better, but he worked too hard at living apart from us.” Doru seated himself in the pit and offered Olivia a loaf of bread. “Sudjummar asked after you. He wanted me to tell you that Somurg looks and sounds strong and is still suckling. He wishes you well.”

  Olivia thought of her son, then swallowed her sorrow with her food.

  “Anything else?” Bodual asked.

  “Well, let me think. A few of the males are complaining about Wurlgunn and Beth and Anita, but Anita’s made a point out of praising his talent in the pit, despite the fact that there’s not a sniff of him on her at any given time, and Wurlgunn is equally adamant about bringing in food enough for ten mates, so there’s been no trouble.”

  “More babies?” Bodual pressed, sipping from the water jug.

  “Not yet, but any day with Sarabee.” Doru ran his eyes over the room, head cocked. “I don’t see any of your things here, Bodual. You don’t expect us to move into your lair, do you?”

  “No, but I do expect you to carry my belongings,” Bodual replied. “I shall stay here and keep your lovely mate occupied.” He fanned his wings covertly, the gullan equivalent of wiggling eyebrows and a wink.

  “She’s spent enough time indulging your little whims,” Doru returned, stressing the word ‘little’. “Move your own possessions. Olivia, how would you like to learn how to hunt?”

  She blinked, looking up from her half-consumed meal. “Really?”

  “I need another hunter, and I don’t see any reason why you can’t. You’ve certain athletic qualities.” This time, he fanned his wings. “You’ll want your own spear eventually, but you can use mine for tonight.”

  “You have natural talent with a man’s spear,” Bodual added solemnly.

  4

  “You’re gripping it too tight,” Doru said.

  “It won’t stay up.”

  “Trust me, Olivia, it will. Relax your hand.”

  Olivia reluctantly obeyed, and the heavy spear immediately overbalanced and pointed to the ground. “Dammit,” she snarled.


  “Well, it is a bit long for you.”

  “It’s too heavy.”

  “Well, let’s pass by throwing technique. Anyone can use a spear to stab with.” Doru hopped onto the top of a stump and then into the air, his wings a blur of black motion. He soared out of sight.

  Olivia dropped to a sitting position, grumbling under her breath and beating the spear against the ground. She had been working with Doru for five hours. The spear was a lot more complicated than it looked and even Doru’s patience was obviously being tested by now.

  She had to admit, however, it was a beautiful night for it. The moon was full, the skies were clear, and the air smelled fresh and sweet. Pine needles carpeted the earth, making it slippery beneath her leather-clad feet, but a welcome change from solid stone.

  As she nursed these thoughts, the beating of wings announced Doru’s return, and he skidded to a clumsy stop behind her. She scrambled to her feet, using the spear as a cane, as he set what she initially thought was a corpse up against a tree. After a moment, she realized it was a dummy, made of human clothes and stuffed with dry leaves.

  “Where did you get that?” she wondered.

  “Sarahjay made it to practice her throws, but I don’t think she’ll mind if we use it.” He finished securing the dummy and motioned for her to pay attention. “Now, the spear is a heavy tool. When stabbing, hold it at the center of its weight and thrust up. The weight of a falling body will always push it down, so thrust upwards and let it impale itself. Whenever possible, let the prey do the work.”

  He stepped behind her and put his hands over hers, adjusting her grip until she had it right. “Up,” he said, demonstrating. The spear slashed in a lazy arc, piercing the dummy at the belly and driving up to the throat. “Look behind you. Not at me, at the haft of the spear. See how near it is to the ground?”

  She nodded.

  “When you face a large animal, like a deer or a bear, it’s best to catch it head-on. When you thrust up, brace the haft against the ground and get out of the way. Even if it doesn’t impale itself fully, it usually tears itself up trying to knock the spear out.”

  “What does it do against the deadly gulla-eating mountain hare?” she teased.

  “Just makes them mad,” he deadpanned. “The only way to be sure with the mountain hare is to have a trusted friend trip you so you can fall on it.” He pulled the spear from the dummy’s body and backed away from her. “Now, you do it. Pretend that’s a bear.”

  She drove the spear into the dummy, thrusting up and bracing the haft on the ground. “I was taught to pretend I was dead if I ever met a bear.”

  “Really. I was taught to get my scrawny ass in the air. I suppose that’s why bears regularly eat humans and gullan get away. Bend your knees, Olivia. Keep your feet apart. Posture is important.”

  “I can’t imagine you with a scrawny anything,” she said, amending her stance and attacking the dummy again.

  “You never knew me when I was a boy. I could fit six boy-Dorus into this body. Your grip is too tight, Olivia. Go easy on that spear. When Bodual and I were fledging, he was the big one.”

  “What happened between then and now?”

  “Manhood.”

  “Is that all?”

  “Blood may have something to do with it. My father was huge. Just enormous. He tried so hard to hide his disappointment of me. When we stood together, it was like pairing a weasel with a mastodon. Olivia, can you try very hard and keep your knees bent?”

  “I am bending them.”

  “Lean forward a little. Pretend it’s a bear, and you’re about to spring away. What was I saying?” he added, and then said, “Oh! My father. Yes. So when I was just sixteen, he made me come hunting with him. It was the first time I had ever held a spear before in my life.”

  “Was it terrible?” she asked, ready to be sympathetic.

  “I was a god,” he replied. “That’s good, Olivia, that’s fine. Give me another one, just like that.”

  She demonstrated two perfect attacks, then said, “Was he proud of you?”

  “I think he was too shocked to be proud,” Doru said, and laughed. “On my first day, I felled nearly every animal taken. I speared the fish from the lake. I dropped a running buck from the air a good ten body-lengths away. I tell you, it was like breathing for me. Knees, Olivia.”

  She bent them, leaning forward and thrusting her spear viciously up and into the dummy, earning a word of praise from her picky instructor.

  “So over the years, I became the chief hunter. I built up this body without even realizing it. One day, standing up to my knees in cold water, waiting for fish, I discovered my reflection and could scarcely believe it. I was built like a mastodon. I was unreasonably thrilled by the thought.”

  “Unreasonably?”

  “My father had been dead for two years by then. But it mattered to me. It mattered that I—knees, Olivia—that I had the body I’d always wanted and not the disappointment I’d always had. As I recall, I took myself straight home to try it out.”

  Olivia laughed, attacking the dummy.

  “Let’s see,” mused Doru. “I had my first taste of thumperjuice, my first coupling partner, my first early ejaculation, my first slap in the face, and my first hangover. All in all, an eventful evening.” He watched her strike at the dummy. “What about you?”

  “Me?” She stopped her maneuvers. “What about me?”

  “When did you become a woman?”

  “Oh gosh.” She thought about it. “I guess when I was in college. I never had a dorm, but in my second year, I moved out of my parents’ place and into my own place. God, that place made High Hill look like paradise.” She glanced at him, then gave her head a self-deprecating shake. “You’re not getting any of this, are you?”

  “I think I get the taste of it. Go on. You were alone for the first time.”

  “We humans like that, you know. I mean, we like friends and we like family, but we also like knowing that we can survive by ourselves without needing to be rescued. So I was extremely proud of myself for surviving. I felt like I was in control. I felt confident and strong, like I could do anything.” She pushed the memory to arm’s length and studied it, smiling. “So I went to a gathering where the thumperjuice flowed freely, and since I was so in control and could have any man I wanted, I threw myself into the arms of a stranger. ‘Make me a woman,’ I said.”

  He kept a tactful silence.

  “No,” she said, as if he had spoken. “It was not pleasant. It was quick, it was messy, it hurt, and he threw up on me afterwards.”

  “Oh, Olivia.”

  “I was drunk enough that I didn’t take it too personally,” she admitted. “But it did set me back on the idea that I was a survivor. I don’t think I ever thought of myself as being quite that strong or capable again.” She thought about it, stabbing the dummy, and then laughed. “Until I got here. Being taken like that has a funny way of refining a person’s character. None of us are who we used to be.”

  Doru continued to be quiet for several long minutes. Finally, “Olivia, do you know what Vorgullum is doing at Hollow Mountain?”

  “Yes,” she replied calmly.

  “How do you feel about it?”

  She drove the spear through the dummy and into the tree. “Angry,” she said, and turned to face him. “But resigned. Everyone seems to feel that your lives are somehow more important than human lives. I don’t pretend to like that, but I do understand that your race is dying. You need us, or think you do, and I suppose you might even be right. But I don’t like it, I don’t approve, and I won’t lie and say I do. You can’t possibly know how it feels to have your life stolen in such a terrible way.”

  “I admit this,” Doru said evenly. His eyes were full of pain, but his voice was steady. “But Olivia, you can’t know how it feels to hold a living child in your hands and see it die of the deformities you have helped to sire in it. My son. Two daughters.” He broke off and looked away until his eyes were dry.<
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  “The old leader tried to breed us, not in a natural way, but as…as humans do with their animals. He put the healthy ones in pairs and told us to couple. And we did,” he said after a short pause. He looked away, his hand flexing on the haft of his spear. “I didn’t know the females, any of them. One of them died in the birthing chair. We were told it was preferable to finding another tribe or taking human mates. I remember agreeing with him. But it didn’t work. Nothing worked, so then what? Our elders were dying and there were no young. And then came Vorgullum and yes, he ordered us to do something terrible, but it is the only thing that has worked.

  “I’ve held three infants, Olivia. My blood was in their misshapen bodies. I won’t tell you it’s worse than the death of your freedom, but believe me when I say it was the worst that I could feel. I took my Tobi away from her family, friends, and tribe. I robbed her of freedom, of choice, of her native tongue. I felt her sobbing in my arms when I brought her to my pit and I hated myself for doing it, but I would do it again a thousand times. None of that pain is equal to watching my child take only one breath.”

  They looked at each other. After a moment, Doru came forward and took the spear out of the tree. He stood with his back to her and his wings fanned against attack.

  Wordlessly, she laid her hand over his arm.

  He said, “I know I don’t have to tell you how it feels to have your mate leave you. I liked Tobi. I still do. I had no idea she was in love with Tina until she asked me to release her. I would have taken them both for my mates if I thought for a second they’d agree. Now she will have my child, a fine healthy child, and I will not be permitted to raise it for my own.”

  “I’m sure she’ll—”

  “Oh, she’ll let me see it. She’s no Beast, to say I’ll never touch it, never hold it. But she wants the rearing of it herself and she’ll have it. That’s her right. My Tobi,” he murmured. “I confess, I’m curious to see which of us it will most resemble. She’s so quick and scrawny, like a little snake. She always made me feel oversized and awkward. And she had a snake’s fangs when she was frightened or angry.” He shook his horns to dissolve the memory. “A useless point to ponder since she doesn’t want me at all.”