Page 30 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Gregar

M y Liv is gone when I wake, but it does not worry me. I have slept long and deeply, feeling more rested than I have for quite a time, but now that I have woken, my body’s needs start making themselves known. It was no doubt the same for my Liv.

I step out of the tent, stretching my limbs. I feel light, like the ground I am walking on is softer, the air sweeter than it really is. It is happiness, I realise. I am happy in a way I have never been before. I smile to myself as I walk towards the tree line.

The sound of an arrow being loosed hits my ears, and dread fills my stomach.

I checked yesterday while hunting for any sign of other tribes and found none.

I was clearly not careful enough. Fear for my Liv pulses in my ears and I rush forwards, heedless of any danger to me, wishing I had brought a weapon.

Not that I would not kill any threat to my linasha with my bare hands.

I burst out of the trees into a small clearing - little more than a pathway between tree trunks.

I see my linasha, her eyes wide with fear, and the raskarran male opposite her.

He is small for a raskarran male, but still much bigger than my linasha, and has fired an arrow in her presence.

I do not care if it was at her or not, her safety was at risk and this male will not harm or even think about harming what is mine.

I let out a roar, launching myself at him. I do not recognise him. He is not from one of the tribes near to my village. I have no idea of his skill in battle, but no male will fight more ferociously than I, for no other has what I have to protect.

My body collides with his and we topple, grappling each other as we fall to the forest floor. He lands a blow to my skull, jarring my teeth as they clack together, but I have caught him by surprise enough that he did not loose his claws.

I snarl, shifting my weight so I am pinning him down.

I am stronger, I think, but he is fast, wiry strength in his arms. His hands close around my wrists, holding me off.

I imagine those hands on my linasha, anger descending over all my senses at the thought.

His tail lashes at me, but I barely feel it.

I overpower him, striking him in the face.

He kicks out with his legs, struggling beneath me.

“ Stopit! ” My Liv’s voice rings out, breaking through the red haze of my anger. She sounds afraid, upset. I do not like it.

“She’s telling you to stop,” the male beneath me grits out.

I hesitate. Because he cannot speak her language, it is impossible. And yet, when her voice sounds again, it is the single syllable word she taught me before.

“ No! ”

I ease back. Every instinct in my body roars at me to fight, to pound my fists in to the male who frightened my linasha, but my Liv says ‘ no ’, and I know what that means.

She does not wish me to harm this male, my compassionate, kind mate.

I only hope her request will not hurt us, for I can deny her nothing.

The male pushes himself up into a sitting position, dusting himself off.

He is a bit bruised and scratched - as am I - but is not badly hurt by any measure.

He watches me with wary eyes, but nods, holding up his empty hands to show he is not armed, before rising to his feet.

I rise with him, watching him for a long moment, until I am satisfied this is not a trick.

“I will not hurt her,” he says.

“You fired your bow,” I say, but even as I say it, I look round for the weapon and see nothing.

“That was…” he sighs, glancing up at the trees. “Jassal, come down here.”

I tense, ready to fight for my linasha once again, but when Jassal appears from the branches, my heartspace thunders, my headspace going blank with shock.

She is a youngling.

She is a female and a youngling. Perhaps nine or ten rainy seasons old. The bow in her hands is small - a trainer bow. The arrow she fired likely blunted. It would have hurt my linasha had it struck her, but would not have done serious damage.

A youngling.

Footsteps approach my side, and I turn to see my Liv cradling another youngling in her arms. A small boy - two rainy seasons, at a guess.

It has been a long time since I saw younglings.

He sucks on his thumb, his little fist tangled in my linasha’s hair, his face nestled against her neck.

Her arms around him are protective, and I feel a yearning in my gut, an overpowering desire for younglings of our own.

Is it even possible? We are different, my Liv and I, but I do not believe Lina would bless me with a mate without the chance of younglings. If my mating node is quiet for now, it is just that it is not the right time.

My Liv touches a hand to my arm, her way of letting me know she is okay, I think. Then she turns to the other raskarran and holds out the boy towards him. The little boy burbles nonsense as the male takes him, cradling him in his arms.

“You were supposed to watch your brother,” he says, a gentle reprimand to the female youngling.

“I was watching him,” Jassal says, her little voice high.

“Watch him by the camp, not all the way out here. And firing your arrows near him, too?”

“I thought the lady was going to hurt him. I didn’t try to hit her. Just scare her.”

Though he keeps his expression stern, I see the male soften.

“It was still a risk to fire at all. Your brother is only small. If you had hit him, it would have hurt very much. I’ll take that bow off you if you can’t be responsible.”

Jassal pouts, but scuffs at the ground with her little feet. She knows she has done wrong. A good youngling. Well raised.

“I am sorry for my actions,” I say, bowing my head to the other male. “I feared for my linasha’s safety.”

“As any good male would,” he says, and I notice that he holds little Jassal to his side with one hand, his entire body tensed. He fears I would harm them.

In days past, no good male would hurt a youngling, but this raskarran has younglings when it is impossible. I understand his caution. His fear.

“I mean no harm to you or your younglings,” I say.

He considers me for a long moment, and I do not blame him. I meant him harm moments before, but only out of fear for my Liv. I hope he believes that, for I would ask him questions about his younglings. How he has a female, a linasha of his own.

“ Shelookslikemama, ” Jassal says.

The words are nonsensical to me, but my Liv jolts with surprise, her eyes going wide.

“ Youspeekinglish? ” she says.

“Uhuh,” the little female says. “ Mamatortme ”

“ Shezhyuman?” my Liv says, dropping to her knees. “ Shezlikeme?”

I look to the raskarran male.

“My linasha is like yours,” he says. “Not from here. She arrived ten rainy seasons ago when her ship crashed. When we saw another crashing a few days ago, my linasha wished to travel to find it - in case it contained more of her kind. You must have reached them first.”

“A ship?” I say, confusion filling my headspace. “My Liv called it an ‘escape pod’.”

He shrugs. “Humans have many strange names for things. It came from the sky - that is where my linasha’s people are from. A world across the stars. My name is Jaskry. Which tribe do you hail from, brother?”

“You are Sarkry’s kin?” I say, thinking of the violent raskarran male who marauds ever closer to my village.

Jaskry scowls. “By blood, but not by spirit. He rejects Lina’s ways. I left his tribe to protect my family.”

I sense he is being honest. Like me, he has much to protect, and a good raskarran male protects his female above all else.

“I don’t know how much my brother has spread his territory in the rainy seasons since I saw him last,” Jaskry says. “Your voice says you are one of the Deep Forest tribes. He’s gone that far?”

“He has,” I say. “Closer and closer every year. If his tribe were in need, we would offer them a place at our hearths.”

Jaskry shakes his head. “Not Sarkry’s way. He’s only interested in taking, not in being given.”

“I suspected so. I am Gregar, chief of my tribe. I am pleased to meet someone with knowledge of my linasha’s people.”

Jaskry’s smile is amused. “I have knowledge of one of her people.”

“Ten rainy seasons of knowledge,” I say. “I suspect you know plenty that it would help me to know.”

His smile broadens. “Are there others with your linasha?”

“They are with my tribe brothers on the sands before the great salt waters,” I say. “We are heading back to them today and plan to travel to my village with them. It is not safe for them out here.”

Jaskry nods. “That was my fear, and my linasha’s. She will be relieved to know they’re safe.”

Then he grimaces, glancing at his daughter before speaking again, quieter. “Not all the humans who arrived with my linasha were good. The males… They would have hurt her.”

“There were no males,” I say. “Just females. My Liv is their chief. I do not think any of them have ill intent towards each other, or to my brothers.”

“All females,” Jaskry says, his eyes going wide. I know he is thinking of the possibilities for the future, too. “Any of them mated to your tribe brothers?”

“Yes,” I say. “So they will be treated well by them. You can trust that.”

Jaskry nods. “I hope this means more younglings. I would like for mine to have playmates other than each other.”

He looks to the little boy in his arms. I cannot help myself - I reach out for him.

I never thought I would see one such as him again, and my heartspace aches at the sight of him.

I stop myself short of touching him, though, not wanting to anger Jaskry.

The little boy reaches out and grabs my finger in one of his little hands.

It is slightly damp where he has been sucking on it. I do not mind in the slightest.

“His name is Ahnjas,” Jaskry says. “This is his third rainy season, though he was born only just before his first.”

“You are a lucky male to have such fine younglings,” I say, unable to keep the wistfulness from my voice.

“I know,” Jaskry says. “Will you return with me now to our encampment? My linasha will be excited to see one of her own after so many seasons.” He looks a little pained. “It’s been… lonely for her at times, I think.”

“I think my Liv would like that, also,” I say.

I turn to her. She is talking still with Jassal who chatters in the way I recall Shemza chattering, before he became altogether too serious for such a young male. I might not understand her words, but I understand the tone well enough.

“ Waredyucomefrom? ”

“ Dyulikethesestonesifound?”

“Ureharesprettycanituchit?”

“Jassal,” Jaskry says, warning in his tone. Then, to my Liv, “ Sorry .”

My Liv just looks amused as she rises to her feet and comes to stand beside me.

“You speak her language?” I say, envious.

Jaskry shakes his head. “I understand it better than I speak it. My linasha speaks our language well. She will speak for you, if there are things you would like to say before tonight.”

I put an arm round my Liv. She leans in to me a little, following without hesitation when Jaskry turns and walks away from us.

Little Jassal puts her hand in my Liv’s, beaming up at her with a toothy smile, her tail flicking around behind her.

She is a sweet youngling. I cannot be angry with her for shooting at my Liv, much as my instinct to protect my linasha demands it.

It is not far to Jaskry’s encampment. I suspected it would not be. They are out here because the little one wandered off. He is far too small to have wandered far.

It surprises me, though, how close our tents were.

If Jaskry had travelled a little further, he would have come across us last night.

Would he have dared to approach? I doubt it, somehow.

And though I thought my heartspace would burst with fear when I thought my Liv in danger, I can only be grateful that things have turned out as they did.

I am eager to meet Jaskry’s linasha, to see another of my Liv’s people happily mated to a raskarran.

I think it will make things go much easier for my Liv’s tribe if they have someone to talk to who has been through what they have already.

Jassal skips ahead to the tent, diving inside it.

I hear voices from inside, though they are too muffled for me to identify words.

Then a woman emerges from the tent. She is much like my linasha and the others of her tribe - small, delicate.

Her hand cradles her swollen belly. She is far along with another youngling.

Her eyes go straight to the boy in Jaskry’s arms, a look of relief in her eyes as she scans him, finds him unhurt. Then she looks to Jaskry, noticing the bruises and scrapes on him.

“What happened?” she says, speaking our language but twisting the words into strange shapes.

Jaskry touches her face. “It’s nothing. Just a misunderstanding. I’m fine. Linasha, there are people I would like you to meet.”

He puts a hand to her back and guides her round. She looks at me with some apprehension. If the only other raskarrans she has known are Sarkry and his tribe, I do not blame her. I bow my head respectfully and hope she can sense I mean her and her family no ill.

Then her eyes slide past me to my Liv. I know the moment she sees my linasha, for her eyes grow wide. She turns to Jaskry, half breathless excitement, half fear.

“There were other humans?”

“A group of females,” Jaskry tells her, assuring her that they are safe with my tribe and no harm will come to them.

“Gregar has a linasha of his own,” Jaskry says. “I do not believe that Lina would grant such a blessing to a bad male.”

My heartspace thrums with pride, even though this assessment comes from a near stranger.

I look to my Liv, smiling - only to find her rigid in my arms, her eyes wide and fixed on Jaskry’s linasha.

The other female turns back to face us, a welcoming smile on her face as she heads over. My Liv only lets out a choked cry.

“ Aryouokay?” Jaskry’s linasha says in the musical human tongue.

My Liv stumbles forwards, holding out a shaking hand towards her.

“ Sally? ” she says.