Page 138 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Shemza

S tabilising Callif enough to move him is one thing, getting him through the rest of the day is another. I thank Lina for my apprentices. Both of them remain calm and work tirelessly, following my instructions and thinking of things I have missed both.

When Vantos was injured, it was difficult work to get his fever to come down, but I never really feared for his life.

Jaskry and Anghar have done well to bring Callif so quickly back to the village, but the journey was a long time for our brother to be bleeding without treatment.

Loss of blood means loss of strength, and it is this above all else that Callif will need in the hours to come.

Jaskry and Anghar hover outside the healer’s hut now, waiting for news, hoping and praying to Lina that they have been fast enough.

It is only late in the evening, when Rachel feeds Callif some craval leaf tea, dripping the liquid against his lips a little at a time so that he might swallow without choking, that I allow myself to start to relax.

When Rachel’s cup is empty, the last of the tea dripped into Callif’s mouth, I check his heartspace.

The beat of it is irregular, but strong enough to give me hope.

I breathe out my relief, gripping my apprentices on the shoulder to let them know that their work is done, that we have done everything we can. The rest is up to Callif now.

When we step out of the hut, it is to find most of the village waiting outside, Jaskry and Anghar at the front of the crowd, still bloodied from their journey here.

Anghar has his arms around Ellie, who looks close to tears, reminded of Anghar’s own injuries, I suspect.

But where Anghar suffered the neat cut of a blade, Callif has been torn by an ensouka horn.

“He is stable,” I say. “It will be a long night, I fear, but if he survives until the morning, his chances are good.”

Gregar steps forward, his expression solemn. “I thank you and your apprentices for all you have done to save him.”

“Thank Jaskry and Anghar for their haste. If they had not reached me so fast…” It does not bear thinking about.

Gregar turns and nods to them both. I gesture for them to enter the healer’s hut, so they can visit with Callif. I know it will reassure them to see him, although he will not be much company.

“Is there anything we can do to aid you, brother?” Gregar says.

“Pray to Lina to lend Callif strength,” I say. “There is not much more that any of us can do.”

He grips my shoulder, and I recall that I took off my top to staunch Callif’s bleeding. My skin is sticky with blood and sweat, and everywhere itches.

“Actually, if someone could sit with him. Keep watch while I clean off in the pools and dress in fresh clothes.”

“Go,” Gregar says. “We will watch him.”

I grab clothes from my hut, carrying them in a basket so I do not bloody them.

Then I head to the pools to clean up. There is already a bowl of geberren root out ready for me, along with fresh pelts to dry off with.

As I approach, I see Liv setting down a plate of food for me.

She smiles, though there is a weariness in her gaze.

I touch a hand to my heartspace as I nod my head, grateful that my chieftess has done these things for me.

She goes to leave, but I stop her with a gentle touch to her shoulder.

“Lorna?”

“Lorna okay,” Liv replies, her speaking of raskarran words a little stilted, but clear. “Carrie care Lorna. Sleep.”

Good. I am glad she sleeps. And that Carrie is with her. I wish I could go to her and wrap my arms around her, but not only do I need to return to the healer’s hut as soon as possible, I am not sure she would welcome it.

I only wish I could understand why, what has changed. Wish that I had the room in my headspace to think on the problem and come up with solutions. Ways of making her smile for me once more.

But I cannot think on it now. I must return to Callif. Watch over my brother.

I head back to my hut, intending to drop off my dirty clothes and then go straight to be at Callif’s side.

But when I open my door, Molly is inside, perched on my counter.

I am thrown by her presence. It is not the raskarran way to enter another’s hut without invitation.

But Molly is human, and also the healer’s hut is perhaps not a place she wished to look for me this night.

Not everyone is so able to tolerate the sight of blood as my apprentices.

“Molly?” I say.

She looks at me, shyness and nervousness in her gaze. She is wearing her nightclothes, and they are a little too big for her, one side hanging off the end of her shoulder.

“ Okay?” I say to her. I am surprised that she has come to me, not Grace. But then, she and Grace have been at odds these last few sunsets, so perhaps it is not so strange. “ Hurt? ”

Molly nods. She is probably not so far in height from my Lorna, but she looks so much smaller.

It is not nice that she has been difficult with Grace and upset Jassal, but she is only a youngling herself, and so far away from home and whatever family she had.

I wonder if she left parents, or siblings, and if her missing them is the true source of her hurt.

“ Where?” I ask.

She points to her chest, right where her heartspace beats.

Yes. Pain of the heartspace. I understand this.

But there is little I can do about it, especially this night.

Hurts of the heartspace have no easy remedy and will require time and a listening ear to help with their healing.

I have neither of those things right now.

Much as she probably would not like to hear it, she needs to speak with one of her sisters.

Someone who can fully understand - both her words and her experiences.

“ Sleep tea ,” I say to her. “ Rest. ”

“ No.” She grabs my hand, draws it to her shoulder. “ Hurts here .”

She pins my hand to her bare skin. She feels warm to the touch, but not hot, and her heartspace beats perhaps a little fast, but not enough to alarm me. I probe the muscles of her shoulder, wondering if she has pulled something, but find no knots, and no points of pain that make her squirm.

“Molly, this is nothing that cannot wait until the morning. You can speak to me with Sally, so we can better understand each other.”

She shakes her head at the sound of Sally’s name. “ No .”

She looks at me, contorting her face in strange ways. She tucks her chin into her chest, forcing her to look up at me through her lashes. It looks very uncomfortable, and she blinks many times.

“ Yewlookaftaeverywun ,” Molly says, her voice low, twisted, as if she is trying to change it. It sounds wrong. I wonder if she has been crying, her throat raw from it, but she did not sound that way before, and she did not indicate her throat was the place she felt pain. “ Buthoolooksaftayew ?”

“Molly, I must return now to the healer’s hut.”

I try to sound firm so that she might read my meaning in my tone if not my words, but I am tired and I do not think I come across as intended. Molly does not shift, and when I try to take my hand away, she only tightens her grip on it, holding me in place.

“ Ahcudlookaftayew .”

She shifts her grip on my hand, pushes it down her body until it is over her breast.

I step back from her immediately, hating how her little body arches toward mine the same way I was so pleased that my Lorna’s did. Molly looks at me with want and need that does not belong on the face of a youngling, and I am hard pressed not to shudder in revulsion.

“ No, Molly,” I say, as gentle as I can. I do not wish to make her feel bad, or that I am angry. Some trouble of her headspace has driven her to this, and it will take careful handling that I do not have the human words for.

Unfortunately, even this small command sets her bottom lip wobbling, her face crumbling moments after.

Before I can say anything to reassure her, she flees my hut, running out into the night.

I follow after her, watch as she makes her way back across the village to Grace’s hut.

I wish to go after her, or perhaps to send someone else after her.

The thought of her alone with only her feelings for company does not sit easy with me.

But Sally will have long gone to her bed by now, and I cannot speak human words well enough to begin to explain what has occurred this night.

I am heavy in so many ways as I trudge back to the healer’s hut.

Heavy with Callif’s injury, and fears that he will not last the night.

Heavy with Molly’s actions and my sadness over how troubled her heartspace and headspace must be.

Heavy with thoughts of my Lorna shaking her head at me. Telling me no.

I wish there were three of me so I could face all problems at once, but Callif is the most pressing, and so he gets my attention. Rachel and Grace both remain by his side when I arrive back, Anghar with them.

“Jaskry is gone to his bed,” Anghar says. “I will sit up with you this first half of the night. Then I shall fetch him to keep you company for the second.”

I grip his shoulder. “I am grateful for this, brother.”

“We wish to help any way we can. I think perhaps this is the only way we can.”

I go to my apprentices.

“Go,” I say to them. “Rest. There is nothing further you can do this night.”

They exchange words, Rachel translating some of mine. She is improving in her understanding of our words so quickly.

“Grace. Molly. She is upset.”

“ Shezupsetabowtsomethin ,” Rachel says.

Grace shakes her head. “S hezalwaysupsetabowtsomethinritenow .” She turns to me. “Thank you. I go. See Molly.”

I grip her shoulder, grateful. I think it unlikely that Molly will wish to talk to Grace, but at least Grace is there to make the offer.

I check over Callif, noting the pallor of his skin, the raspy sound of his breathing. I drip water laced with djenti berries onto his dry lips, and his tongue darts out to lap the liquid up. A promising sign, one I take much comfort in.

Anghar has set out two chairs for us. I take one, nodding to him.

“What happened?” I ask him.

It is the first I have asked of the events that ended with Callif in the healer’s hut.

Anghar sighs. “The hunt went well. We brought down a large male. Enough to feed the tribe well for several sunsets. Rardek and Paskar have brought it back to the village while you have been busy here. Our stores will be bursting.”

He glances over at Callif, fondness and exasperation both in his expression.

“But this fool saw a chance to take a second. It was not so risky as to be stupid. Another day, a different amount of luck on his side, and he might have been successful. His spear struck, but it was not a killing blow, only an enraging one, and he had no other at his side to take a second shot.”

I can picture what happened next - a pained and angry ensouka charging the group. The chaos it would have caused. Ensouka are large, but they are surprisingly nimble through the trees and they have strong legs to avoid as well as their horn, both ends as dangerous as the other.

“We brought it down, but not before Callif had taken a blow from the horn. Worse, with me and Jaskry needed to bring him back, there was no one to bring the second ensouka. Rardek and Paskar will return for it tomorrow, or perhaps even tonight if they are restless with worry, but there is every chance some other predator will have made a feast of it in the meantime.”

“This close to the big rains, perhaps not,” I say. Many of the predators will have already gone to their resting places.

“We can only hope. I dislike the idea that he has been injured for no gain.” Anghar shifts, a discomfort in his expression. “I fear that this will not be the last mishap in our village.”

“We have had more than I would like in these last sunsets. You. Vantos. Now Callif.”

“Darran comes soon. When he does, we will be better protected against the Cliff Top tribe. I am less concerned about them than I am foolish males with something to prove. Callif would not have attempted to bring the ensouka down alone if he did not have thoughts of the glory it would bring him in his head. How this might make him appealing to our sisters.”

He sighs, and I can see that this weighs heavily on him.

“Vantos mating with Rachel has changed things for us. We can never grow content with the knowledge that we are unmated as we might have with enough time before.”

“I had not considered it that way,” I admit.

“Too busy considering how you might lure Lorna into your dreams?”

There is no bite in his tone, only gentle humour.

“You do not need to be concerned that I will attempt to take on an ensouka alone. I doubt such a thing would impress Lorna.”

“I doubt it will impress any of the females, but Callif does not think of impressing any particular one, only of being impressive. Vantos says his heartspace sang for Rachel from the very first. He has only ever been interested in what would make her happy. I suspect it is the same for you. It is our brothers whose heartspaces sing for none of them, who only want a linasha, not one of our sisters in particular, who concern me. Without direction for their longing, more might be tempted into similar foolishness as Callif.”

“With our sisters numbering so few, and new brothers joining us…”

“It is a situation apt to cause problems, yes.” He looks at me.

“I hope you are successful with your Lorna. I do. Nothing would bring me more joy than for another of my brothers to know the happiness my Ellie has brought me. But one such mating is improbable. Perhaps not repeatable. Two only proves that it can be done.”

We both of us look to Callif, heavy with the thoughts of what else our brothers might do to try to win himself a linasha.