Page 122 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER SEVEN

Shemza

W ith Rachel gone on her travels with Vantos, there is little to be done around the healer’s hut.

I see little point in teaching Grace something that I will have to teach again to Rachel in a few sunset’s time.

Besides, she has already mastered almost all of the basics.

Anything I have left to teach them both now is of a more complicated nature, and unlikely to be needed.

I will see that they both learn the full healer’s craft, but the treatment of complicated injuries like broken bones will require Sally’s help to translate, and I will not put more on her shoulders at this time.

Of the things I could still teach with our limited ability to communicate, well, there is no rush to learn remedies to poisonous plants that do not grow in our territory, and other such things.

So, the morning after the thunderstorm, we only have to check on our herb gardens and restock our supplies. Hannah and Mattie have barely cleared away the breakfast things by the time we are finished.

Grace goes to sit with the other females at the fire, watching as Molly and Jassal have their daily lessons from Sally.

Molly finishes her writing on the slate and hands it to Sally with a flourish, her expression eager.

It is sweet that she is so keen to learn these skills from Sally, even if I do not fully understand the point of them.

Lorna is also sitting by the fire, next to Carrie, who is working on her sewing as usual.

Ahnjas is very interested in the garment Carrie is fixing, and Lorna has to keep prizing it out of his little hands.

Carrie does not seem to mind. She smiles down at the youngling, making faces at him. Ahnjas laughs and laughs in response.

I wish to go and sit with Lorna, close as we sat yesterday, but my headspace is busy with ideas this morning and my respite from the duties of teaching my apprentices gives me the opportunity to act on them.

I bypass the females and go straight to Harton, who acts as the tribe chief when Gregar is occupied with patrols.

“I will be away from the village a time this day,” I say to him.

“I am aiding the female Lorna in her recovery from her sickness by taking her for walks around our territory. The rains yesterday have left the ground treacherous in places. I am going to scout some routes before we head out this afternoon.”

“That one does not deserve a turned ankle on top of a broken arm,” Harton says, nodding.

I describe the area I intend to scout for him. “If there is any need for my skills, that is where you will find me.”

“I should think we can avoid serious injury for a day,” Harton says with a grin. “Unless Callif is feeling overconfident after his score yesterday and intends to pursue the ensouka herd alone.”

“If he thought it would please one of the females into his furs, I think he would do most anything,” Namson says, making the other elders rumble with laughter.

All last night, the hunters were discussing the herd, making plans.

An ensouka so close to the big rains would be a bounty indeed.

The meat would keep the tribe fed for many days, bolstering our reserves and reducing the need for the hunters to venture out in the rains.

It is possible to hunt during them, but it is more risky, and the rewards are less.

Many of the forest’s creatures hibernate to avoid the rainy season, hiding in caves and sleeping away the bad weather.

That, or like the horkats, they leave for less rain-soaked places.

Today, the hunters have gone to the edges of our territory to find the herd again, to see in which direction it is travelling, so that they might find a good place to stage their attack.

An ensouka herd is a dangerous thing. They are big creatures.

They lack the intelligence of the merka beasts, but are not without weapons - the horn on their head can pierce raskarran flesh easily, and may even land a killing blow.

Alone, they pose little threat, but when there are many of them charging through the trees, it can quickly become a tangle of confusion.

It is why so much planning and preparation is required.

I notice that Ellie has not gone with them. She is walking through the village with Liv, arms full of pelts from the storage hut. They prepare the empty huts for Darran’s arrival, airing out the smell of dust and disuse, making up the beds with soft pelts, and filling the baskets with supplies.

I am glad she has stayed. The thought of one so small against an ensouka herd troubles my heartspace. She is a skilled huntress, but there are always some things that are better left to others.

I turn my attention to my own hunt, heading out from the fire into the trees.

Yesterday, as we waited for the storm to pass, I asked Anghar of the best places to look for birds in the area around the village.

He told me of a nest he spotted in the trees.

It is quite the hike from the village for one with such short legs - something Lorna will have to build up to over the coming days.

But that gives me a little time to prepare.

I head for the area Anghar described, keeping my eyes alert for any signs of fluttering wings.

After some searching, I find the place and mark it in my memory before heading off to look for fallen branches.

The ground here is flat, and fairly open, with wider gaps between the tree trunks. It is perfect for what I have in mind.

Always as I walk, my mind goes back to the moments before Anghar and Ellie arrived at the hunter’s hut yesterday.

My fingers against Lorna’s lips. Though I cannot begrudge my brother for seeking shelter for his linasha, I cannot help but wonder what would have happened if we had not been interrupted so.

Would she have allowed me to continue touching her?

Did it make her breath catch in her throat as it did me?

I think I detected her breath quickening, but it was so dark, the rain so loud, it is hard to know.

But she did not rebuff me immediately, and this is promising.

And she touched me first, seeking to share in my heat.

This says to me that she is comfortable with me.

Perhaps as friends only at the moment, but that is a good start.

If she is comfortable enough to burrow into my side when she is cold, I feel she would be comfortable enough to tell me to stop if I did something she disliked.

I stand taller at this thought. Perhaps she will be receptive to more touching. But being a good mate is not just about sharing in touches. I must show her my heartspace’s feelings are deep, not shallow and fleeting like Callif’s. This is where my plan with the birds will do its work.

When we go for our walk, Lorna gestures to me that her feet are not feeling so good after the previous day’s ramblings, so I keep it short, but brisk. It is good for her to vary her pace. A variety of exercise is the best way to keep the body healthy.

Every so often, I turn to her and ask, “ Slow? ”

Every time, she shakes her head. This determination is one of her most appealing attributes.

It is why she survived so long on the sands, I think, fighting her injuries and the sickness they inflicted on her long past when someone weaker might have given up.

The others look at her and see someone fragile, someone who needs protection, but I see the fierceness that lives in her heartspace, how bright it burns.

The following day, I am on warrior’s duties with Endzoh again, but this does not have to hamper my project.

As we patrol, I keep my eyes peeled for suitable fallen branches, collecting up any that are easy to carry, leaving them at the points on our route closest to the village so that I can collect them up later.

Endzoh watches me work, arching one of his brows in question.

I would be hesitant to speak my truth to Rardek, but I trust Endzoh will not judge.

“It is for Lorna,” I say. “She has a great love of the birds that live in the forest. Anghar told me of a nest near to the village where three chicks are being raised. I wish to build her a hideaway, so that she might sit for a time and watch them whenever she desires.”

Endzoh nods, thoughtfulness in his expression, and the next time we pass a suitable branch, he goes to pick it up before I can.

In the time between our arriving back at the village, and Jaskry returning to take his children from Lorna, Endzoh helps me to collect up the branches we have left scattered along our path and carry them out to the place I intend to build the hide.

I am not much of a builder, but as younglings, we were all taught how to make a basic shelter.

This does not need to be much more than that.

If it keeps off most of the rain, that would be enough.

We have to work quietly so as not to disturb the nesting birds, but being quiet is Endzoh’s greatest skill, and when it is time to head back to the village, we leave behind the basic frame of a structure.

It will take a few more afternoons of work to get it finished, but we have made good progress and I am pleased.

I am even more pleased that it is time for walking with Lorna, but when I get back to the fire, the hunters have not yet returned.

With them going out to the ensouka herd each day, they are taking longer and longer to get back.

It will perhaps be dark before they return, and that would not be good for walking.

I am prepared to be disappointed, but when I approach the fire, Lorna nudges Jassal and sends her over to me.

“Lorna says can we all go for a walk together?”

I grin at the youngling and her obvious excitement for something so simple as a walk. “That would be wonderful.”

I take them to a spot not far from the village where the trees are younger, easier for little ones to climb.

Jassal walks beside Lorna, talking in the musical human words, while Ahnjas rides in my arms. When we arrive, myself and Lorna sit on the pelts she has for Ahnjas, watching as Jassal scales the smaller trees with ease.

It is easy sometimes to forget that she is older than she appears, her smaller frame a result of her mother’s blood, not her age.

She is quick to help Ahnjas as he practises unleashing his claws and scraping them against the bark.

When he starts to lift himself off the ground, Lorna lets out a squeak, covering her eyes with her hands.

“Ahnjas good, ” I say to her, giving her the good hand sign.

“ Bad ,” Lorna says, then puts her hand to her heartspace and moves it rapidly up and down, mimicking its racing beat.

Feeling daring, I trace a finger along the curve of her neck, hoping I can make her heartspace race for different reasons.

Her gaze shoots to meet mine, her mouth parting, her tongue darting out to lick her lips, and I find I am wondering about human kisses.

What would it feel like to receive one from her, or to give one to her?

But I just sit back. I will not push her too hard too soon. It is like with her recovery. I must take it a few steps at a time.

Ahnjas comes running back over to us, his claws still extended. They are blunt, soft little claws, but human skin is delicate, and when he heads for Lorna with his arms outstretched towards her, I intercept him.

“You must put away your claws, young Ahnjas,” I tell him, catching his wrist and showing him his fingers. “You would not wish to hurt your Lolo, would you?”

He beams at Lorna, his claws retracting. When I release him, he runs the rest of the way to her, tugging at her top in an attempt to make her get up.

“Lolo,” he says, then points at the trees.

“ Ahcarntclimetrees ,” Lorna says, tickling him until he’s shrieking with laughter.

When she stops, he curls into her arms, his tail looping around her wrist. Lorna presses a kiss to his forehead, and I cannot stop myself picturing her with our youngling in her arms. She would be such a good mother. We would have the happiest younglings in the village.

My heartspace aches again with want, but it does not feel so sharp-edged as normal. It is not that the strength of my yearning has faded. It is just tempered with hope. I think of my secret project and cannot wait to reveal it to her.

As if Lina has read my thoughts, a bird lands not far from where we are sitting.

“ Look !” Lorna says to Ahnjas, her voice soft as she points. “ Bird. ”

It is not one of the very common dors birds, but another kind that I have no name for. It is smaller than a dors bird, its plumage bright shades of green and glossy black. There are two feathers atop its head that are long and thin, and bounce about when it moves its head.

“ Birbir, ” Ahnjas says, his voice bright and loud.

“Ssh.” Lorna hushes him, pressing a finger to her lips.

“ Birbir ,” Ahnjas repeats, much quieter this time, then looks up at Lorna, clearly expecting praise.

I can tell by the way her shoulders shake that she is fighting to contain laughter, and when she looks round to me, she looks as happy as I have ever seen her.

I would make you this happy every day, I think to her, wishing there were some way I could communicate my thoughts without the dreamspace.

But I have only my actions, so I reach across and take her hand.

Humans like to touch hands. I have seen Liv do it with Gregar, and Ellie do it with Anghar, and they do it with each other also.

They do not have tails, so I suppose another limb has to be the one to give comfort and affection.

Lorna looks a little surprised, but then she gives my hand a gentle squeeze and does not release it, instead holding it as we watch the colourful bird together, until, with a sudden flap of its wings, it disappears once more into the trees.