The First Tribe

by Candace Smith

  Mauraucht realized the man’s honor was at stake. She rasped loudly, “Thank you, Juegers. Our entire plan will fail if Chaucht succumbs to the dry sea.”

  Chaucht and Plesan began their journey north that very night, while the Kirabi were still devising their schemes against each other.

  Chapter VII

  Marel cornered Dasheen around noon the next day. “Can you bring your friends to the quarters? We are having a problem with your slaves and could use your help.”

  If Dasheen was thinking with the head on his shoulders, he would have realized his mother would never ask for help from a man. All he could think of was seeing Sabra again. He did not even notice Marel had referred to her as ‘his’ slave. She was contriving and keeping the bond and need strong in her son.

  The men were there so quickly that Marel barely had time to tell the trainers their plan was beginning. The men found their little Vastara spread on the frames, with welts bruising their pale skin. “You whipped her?” Dasheen asked in disbelief.

  “She’s a slave, Dasheen. And we didn’t whip them. We used the canes,” Marel answered. They were much more painful and she noticed his wince. “Besides, she has learned to enjoy it. Watch.”

  Marel walked up to Sabra and ran her hands over her. It gave her time to spread the oil coating her belly onto the tipila rod. She stroked a quick flick of a drop across her clit and whispered, “Dasheen is here. Show him your passion, girl.”

  Sabra had been kept so mindless with desire and thoughts of the beast rider that her channel leaked when she looked into his dark eyes. “Dasheen,” she whispered.

  Dasheen’s cock stiffened immediately when he saw the passion in her eyes while she spoke his name and gazed at him. He walked closer and clenched his fists on the table while his mother began lashing the girl. She rode the tipila to an orgasm that made him groan. All the while, she called his name.

  While Sabra was gasping with her head hung forward, Marel walked to her son. “I have taught her with the bilap, Dasheen, but I fear Vison’s reaction should she nick him with a tooth. She seems to have an… affection… for you, and I think it would be best to practice with your cock, instead of your father’s.”

  The ultimate plan had never been to let the Vastara near the leaders, but Marel knew that if they thought they would benefit from possession of the slaves it would keep them too preoccupied with impending lust to spoil her plans. “You will do this for your father?” Marel saw the brief flash of anger in his eyes.

  “I do not wish to be used in a way that Sabra will despise me. Is that your true plan, mother?”

  It had not occurred to her that he would consider that sort of ruse. “No, Dasheen. I suppose I could ask another young beast rider, or perhaps take the chance with Vison. The last Fista that nipped him had her fangs ripped out.” Marel turned back towards Sabra, dismissing her son.

  Dasheen pictured blood on Sabra’s chin and an accusing look in her green eyes because he had not helped her avoid punishment. “No. No, I will help you. If they had allowed us to keep them, this wouldn’t be necessary.”

  “Dasheen, the slave is lost to your father. If this is going to make that decision more difficult for you to accept…”

  “I’m fine,” Dasheen answered quickly. If Sabra had not already been compromised by his father, there was a chance they could get the slaves out of the settlement unscathed. By the cold winds of Flagar, he did not want another beast rider using his cock on her.

  Marel had Dasheen sit on a low stool. She released Sabra and pushed her to her knees in front of him. Her whispers were low in Sabra’s ear, and Dasheen could not hear what she was saying.

  “Just like the bilap, Sabra. If you worship Dasheen, he will remember you. Just think of the bilap, girl.” Marel kept a hand stroking through the girl’s hair while the other hand reached under to stroke her slit. She had brushed the fistal oil on the girl’s bottom, and the girl was soon rocking into her hand. “Sabra, you must untie his laces,” she encouraged.

  Sabra’s wary eyes looked up at Dasheen. There was a fiery passion in their black depths that made her almost forget it was the Kirabi woman’s hand that was pleasuring her.

  Dasheen reached out and caressed her cheek. He also ignored his mother’s presence. “You are so beautiful, Sabra.” She smiled up at him.

  “The laces,” Marel whispered.

  Sabra looked down at the tight breeches. She remembered when Dasheen had to tell her the mystery of opening the lacing on his boots. Her trembling fingers searched for the ends and she pulled. Her fingers worked the thatching open, and she stared at his swollen organ.

  Marel watched in fascination as her son stared at the girl’s fingers while she brushed the tips across his crown. His cock was leaking in anticipation, and Marel was curious as to why Dasheen had not already gripped her flame hair and pushed himself into her. He knows she is trained. Why does he wait?

  Sabra reached her tongue out. The liquid was salty and warm. It was not unpleasant, but it was also not bilap. Her mouth covered the tip, and she thought how soft his skin was. It was nothing like the bronze muscles of his arms and chest. She stiffened when his hand rested on her head, but when he began gently threading his fingers through her waves, she sighed in contentment and explored more of his cock.

  Her tongue swept faster, and she felt him grow larger and quiver. Her hands had been resting on his thighs and she moved them to wrap around his shaft. Her thumb brushed against curls and softer flesh, and Sabra discovered his sack. By the invigorated fingers in her hair rubbing her scalp, she decided he liked this very much.

  Marel let the girl seduce her son for several minutes, and then she slowly withdrew to sit on the table. Dasheen’s eyes were closed… Sabra’s as well, no doubt… and Marel was pleased with the strong bond.

  “Do you suppose it was ever like that with us?” Salar asked.

  Marel had not heard her walk over. She turned to the room and saw that all the pairs were experiencing a dynamic tryst. “Maybe when First Tribe was created,” Marel answered. She would never trade her dominance for the submissive role, but she could appreciate the looks of desire and passion the union created.

  “When do you think they will try to escape?” Salar realized it was imminent. It was the only solution that would keep the beast riders with their slaves.

  “We are fabricating the need for a two day celebration beginning tomorrow night. The young Kirabi women have already begun to seduce the beast riders,” Marel replied.

  “So I noticed,” Salar sneered. With very little effort, Kirabi men were drooling after the girls, without questioning why they would suddenly take interest in them.

  Dasheen’s hands fisted in Sabra’s hair and he groaned, lifting his hips off the seat. “That’s it,” Marel whispered. “They only get a taste of their little slaves.”

  Salar grinned. “I’d say it was the slaves that are getting the taste.”

  Sabra’s throat worked frantically to gulp down the unexpected fluid that spurted into her mouth. When it finally stopped, she sat back on her heels, swiping across her lips with the back of her hand and watching his cock wither. She looked up, and she was relieved to see him breathing hard but smiling at her. “I don’t know how to tie it up again,” she said.

  Sabra curled up in her cage, closing her eyes and thinking of Dasheen and the pleased look on his face while Mauraucht applied ointment to her welts. “He likes me, I think.”

  “More than that,” Mauraucht answered. “He is enthralled with his little fire slave.”

  “Will Chaucht be terribly upset?” Sabra remembered the woman bringing her the first taste of bilap.

  Mauraucht was silent for a moment, thinking of her granddaughter. Chaucht and Plesan should be almost across the desert. “She’ll be just fine with it, Sabra.”

  Vison stormed in the next morning, and Sabra gasped at the anger in his eyes. “Why am I just hearing of some festival you women have arranged? There has been no tribunal to
discuss this. Two days, Marel? What could be so important?”

  Marel replied in an icy tone, “You are interrupting my training, Vison.”

  “Answer me, woman. The leaders should have been told. Bentil learned of this from a Kirabi youth. A youth, Marel. The boy has not even claimed a banta and the title beast rider, and yet he knows of your festival.”

  Good. Word has spread quickly. Marel knew the men would plan their escape that night.

  Sabra watched, and her mouth dropped open when Marel’s face completely changed. Gone were the harsh cruel lines around her eyes, and it looked like desire was filling them. Even her jaw, usually tight with determination, loosened so that her lips looked softer and fuller.

  Marel turned and placed her hands on Vison’s shoulders. “I apologize, Vison. The news was so grand that we had not considered asking for a vote. We knew everyone would want to know.”

  Vison looked into her sultry eyes. Damn the woman. He would rather fight a dozen bantas than try to fight his desire for her. “Know what? What is so grand?”

  “The Vastara’s,” Marel said. She leaned close to his ear so her lips brushed the shell, and she felt him quiver. “They have agreed to help us capture the tribe.” Marel knew it had to be so grand it was ridiculous, but the dual distraction between finally being seduced by their women and the promise of a long awaited capture would keep the men celebrating for two days.

  Vison looked at Sabra. “This is true?” The girl was lost in a world of arousal, thrusting against a well-oiled knob.

  Marel turned his head to focus on her again. “It is true, Vison. These women say their spirits do not want to live in the cold shadows. They will convince their philosophers to ask to rejoin First Tribe, and then we can take them.”

  Vison smiled at the malicious plan. “We will let them think we are letting them join as an equal faction. Yes… yes, I can see how this will work. No one imagined they would last so long in the cold winters.” He pulled Marel against him. “Our plan is perfect.”

  Marel rolled her eyes. She pushed gently away from where he had been crushing her face into his shoulder. “I just knew you would be pleased, Vison.”

  When he left, and Salar laughed. “Our plan? Did he just say the leaders were taking credit for this folly?”

  Marel smiled. “I hope they do. Imagine how they will look when the entire plan collapses.” Marel walked over to Sabra and removed the rod. “That’s enough for you. You need to rest for tonight.”

  Sabra had no idea what she was talking about, but she was grateful to be locked into her cage again. She fell asleep within minutes.

  “Come, Kirabi. We need to prepare for tonight.” Marel turned to the Fisba. “We will not return for two days. Keep the slaves fed and watered.”

  “Yes, Marel.” Mauraucht knew she was told this so if Dasheen and his men showed up that would be the answer she would give. It amazed her how conniving the Kirabi woman was. She looked over to the other two Fistas. “All that smart and superior air about them, and they never figured out we listen to everything they say.”

  “Our victory is coming soon, Mauracht.”

  Mauracht thought again of Chaucht. She hoped their travel was going well… and quickly.

  When the Fisba left the tent for dinner, there was already revelry throughout the settlement. Slaves were running platters of food to the Kirabi and sexual encounters were abundant. Mauraucht narrowed her eyes. The Kirabi women sat by the men, whispering and stroking with their hands, but it was still the slaves performing the acts of sexual gratification for the beast riders.

  She looked around and did not see a single one of the Kirabi that would be stealing the slaves… except Jarung. Have to do something about that, she decided. If he went in search of Dasheen or Masan, the whole scheme could come unraveled. A familiar woman walked up beside her.

  “He could be a problem,” Niael said. “Perhaps I should keep him occupied. Dasheen certainly won’t be calling for me.”

  Mauraucht was relieved that Niael had offered her services. She ate with the older Fisbas and they discussed the upcoming schemes. “It is like spokes of a wheel. Everyone is contriving different directions, yet we are all joined together in the middle and on the edges.”

  “Will the Kirabi ever figure it out?”

  Mauraucht shrugged her hunched shoulders. “It will be too late, if they do. They will never think it was us. We are much to ‘feebleminded’.” The Fista women laughed quietly.

  Mauraucht shuffled back to the quarters. She slid a bowl of fruit into the cage and handed Sabra the nayello flask of doctored water. Sabra had been listening to the commotion outside. “What is happening?”

  “The Kirabi are about to make a big sacrifice. They have no idea just how big.”

  When Mauraucht would not explain further, Sabra leaned against the bars and listened to the laughter outside her tent. It was deep into the night when the sounds began to die down. The tent flap opened, and Sabra could see the shadow of beast riders coming into the tent.

  Oh, Mother. They have celebrated and are coming for us. Sabra worked herself into a panic, convinced Vison’s hands would be groping for her.

  “Calm yourself, girl,” Mauraucht whispered. “All is well.”

  The man squatted down in front of her and began unlocking her cage. “Sabra? It’s Dasheen. You must be very quiet. We are leaving this place.”

  “Dasheen? Oh, Mother of Life. I knew you would come for me.”

  “Quiet, Sabra. If anyone hears, they will stop us and punish us both.”

  Sabra took his hand, and she turned and whispered to the shadow in the corner. “Be well, Mauraucht. Be happy.”

  Palla and Anali were just as relieved to be leaving with their beast riders. Dasheen held Sabra’s hand and pulled her through the woods. The group stopped in the tipila glade where they had held Seela’s ritual. The small area was filled with banta and beast riders, and their stolen slaves.

  Sabra walked over to Seela. There was nothing but bones. It was a little soon for her to have been cleaned so completely. When she turned, she was staring directly into Shiru’s golden eyes. Dasheen said, “Sorry about that. We had to leave them unattended to come get you.”

  Sabra smiled. “Oh no, Dasheen. All is well. Now we have Seela and her strong belief with us.”

  Dasheen reached down to help Sabra sit in front of him on the banta. “I still can’t figure out your repulsion to the meat thing,” he muttered. He held up a hand, and then swiped it down. “Make haste, beast riders.”

  The banta sliced their way through a patch of thick brush, and they emerged on the banks of a river. “We go south,” Dasheen ordered. The banta picked up speed and glided down the sand in their smooth gait.

  “Won’t Shiru tire if we push her so hard?” Sabra’s bottom was beginning to ache.

  “Banta’s can run at top speed for a full day. At this pace, it will be sunset before we need to stop. After tonight, we only plan to travel during the day. We have never been in these lands before.”

  Sabra watched the river while they glided south. She resisted Dasheen’s efforts to throw a skin over her, and the sun was giving her a rosy pink glow. “I want to see, Dasheen.”

  In midmorning, Dasheen said, “You are burning, Sabra.” He pulled the light skin over her. “Do as I say, girl.” He smiled when her shoulders sagged in resignation.

  When they stopped for lunch, things looked much the same. Trees were along each bank with high mountain ridges behind them. They mounted Shiru, and Dasheen felt her adjusting her seat. He put his hands around her waist and lifted her onto his thighs. “If this doesn’t work, I can throw you onto your belly again,” he suggested.

  “My mouth filled with dirt,” Sabra admitted. Besides, she could only see the ground and the banta’s feet riding that way. She did not argue when he covered her again, but she was very pleased when he removed the tarp.

  “Do you think they are following us yet?” Ranal asked.

&nbs
p; Masan answered. “No. Jarung would be leading them and blowing that horn of his. We will have plenty of warning.”

  The group sat quietly eating dinner. The staple was fruit, and as the beast riders did not want to light a fire in case the Kirabi were after them, they settled for dried meat. The women discovered that if they did not look at the men eating, the smell did not bother them.

  “The women planned for this,” Palla said.

  “What?” The three men stared at her.

  “Don’t you see? Think about it. They never let your fathers touch us… only you. They arranged for the festival without consulting them. I think they are going to give us as much time as they can to get away,” Palla said.

  “Why the conspiracy?” Masan asked.

  Dasheen was nodding his head in understanding. “They had to. They had to keep the leaders’ minds occupied. The bigger question is why did they want us to leave?”

  “Your mother wants to be leader,” Sabra suggested. “Perhaps she thinks you would be second in line.”

  Dasheen shrugged. “None of it matters. We have split from First Tribe and must devise our own leadership.”

  “That, and work, Dasheen. It is no small issue that we will not have slaves to do the chores,” Masan replied.

  Dasheen walked with Sabra down by the river. “I was so frightened you would not come for me.”

  “My little flame siren, I could think of nothing else.” Dasheen walked in front of her. Her hair shined like fire in the moonlight, and her eyes were lit to a lustrous green. He ran his hands down her sides and she trembled.

  “Dasheen, do you think you can get me something to wear?”

  “Right now? Having you clothed is not what I have in mind.”

  Sabra had escaped naked, and the men seemed quite pleased to keep the women that way. “Make me something from the tarp,” she suggested.

  Dasheen shook his head and kicked the sand. “Shiru,” he hissed. Bantas had extraordinary hearing, and the creature was beside him in an instant. He untied his hair and held up the pera skin strip. The banta’s nostrils flared. “Fetch,” he ordered. The beast took off. “It will still have to be tanned to work with.”