Page 53 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER TWELVE

Anghar

I keep swimming long after I cease being able to hear and see the cliff tribe males.

The current carries us far and fast, and I think it will be a long time before they are able to catch up with us, if they even choose to continue their pursuit.

I think they will not. The river covers all tracks.

Finding us this way would take many sunsets and much luck.

I pray to Lina for her protection, but I already know she is smiling on us.

We have escaped, and my linasha is mostly unhurt.

The wound in my side pains me, but not so much that I cannot do what I need to keep my Ellie safe.

Her arms grip my neck tight, almost choking. It is uncomfortable, but I welcome it. She still has strength in her arms, still has the will to survive. These are good things. My Ellie is a fighter.

When the river starts to widen and slow, I pay attention to the land around us. Both sides are rocky now, the whole river set in a valley. But the banks have widened, sloping up gently rather than rising abruptly upwards. It is perfect terrain for caves, and I watch closely for a decent sized one.

When I see a cluster of openings up ahead, I push us over towards them.

It is not long before my feet and knees start bumping against the bottom of the river, and I stop, setting my Ellie down.

She is so little, the water still comes almost to her neck, but she finds her feet, gives me a nod, before wading through the water towards the edge.

I trudge behind her, fatigue starting to set into my bones.

The sun is still warm overhead, shining down on us through the gaps in the trees above the river.

I turn my face upwards, let the heat soak into me.

I am cold. So very, very cold. I fear it is not the temperature of the river water that has done it, though, rather my blood loss and weakness.

I need to find shelter. For my Ellie, but also for myself.

The further we walk, the more the terrain levels off, the forest creeping closer.

There are lots of bushes close to the banks, the occasional small tree.

This is good. They could provide food, djenti berries for medicine, a little shelter.

Then my eyes land on a marking scratched into the bark of one of those young trees and my heartspace pounds, relief filling me.

I trace my fingers over the mark, recognising the strange picture words of the wandering tribes.

Not just any wandering tribe - Ferzan’s.

When I was a youngling, before the sickness, the wandering tribes would pass by our village a few times a season.

The elders liked to teach anyone with an interest about their picture words.

It was a long time ago now, the memories soft and out of focus in my headspace, but I study this one carved into the tree and think I recognise its components.

The round marking with a likeness of an eye at the centre which indicates Ferzan’s tribe.

Three lines slashed at an angle. One line indicates a small cache hidden nearby, two a good hunting ground.

Three means there is a full supply cave nearby.

I lean my head against the tree, weak with relief and gratitude that Ferzan keeps with the old ways, even though the wandering tribes are so few now, and most other tribes insular, not choosing to travel further afield than our regular territory.

I turn back to my Ellie. She has her arms wrapped around her, her little teeth chattering with cold. The exhaustion is coming over her too, I think.

“Not much further, my linasha,” I say to her, my voice strained and rough. “Lina smiles on us this day. We will be safe.”

She does not show any sign of understanding me, but when I hold out a hand to her, she takes it without hesitation, following me as I head in the direction indicated by the picture word.

Soon, I see another, etched in paint just inside the entrance to a cave.

I point to it. Ellie chews on her bottom lip.

I smile at her, then guide her inside the cave.

It is warm inside. Dry. The entrance is narrow and winding, but then it opens up into a large clearing.

A fire is already prepared, just needing to be lit, and through the gloom I think I glimpse baskets stacked along one of the far walls.

Supplies. Food. Hopefully medicine. Everything we need to rest and recover from our ordeals.

My side throbs hard with every step I take now, a constant pain.

But I pull my pack from my Ellie’s shoulders and hunt through it for flint stones to set the fire going.

Ellie watches me, her eyes widening as flames start to lick over the dry mosses, building as I feed them more from a small pile left next to the ring of stones that makes the fire pit.

Once it is going well, I set on a few of the larger logs.

Satisfied, I use the light from the flames to locate some pelts.

I set up a little pile for my Ellie first, putting her on the opposite side of the cave to me, as I think this is what she would wish for if we could speak.

She may have clung to me in the river, but that was survival.

I will not take advantage of her fear to keep her close.

Satisfied with my Ellie’s bedding, I turn my attention to my own, throwing the pelts down with less care.

I know I will pass out as soon as I stop.

Comfort will not factor into my sleeping tonight.

That done, I grab my bag and head towards Ellie.

I do not realise until she rushes forwards and grabs me, steadying me, that my headspace has gone light and strange, that blackness is starting to creep in at the edges of my vision.

“ Godureheavy, ” my Ellie says with a grunt of effort as she helps me stumble backwards to my pelts.

I sit, my body dropping down heavily. It sends a jolt of pain through my side, and I groan.

My Ellie’s face appears in front of me, worry clear in her dark eyes.

She is so beautiful. Lina really did bless me when she sent my Ellie to my dreams. I reach a hand up, try to touch her face.

But my arms feel like they do not belong to me.

And heavy. So heavy. I try to laugh at my clumsiness, but it just hurts.

“ Liestill, ” my Ellie says, touching a hand to my chest.

I realise I am lying down. I am not sure when that happened.

The black is nearly across my vision completely. I try to brush it away, but my Ellie catches my hand in hers, lowering it down.

“Want to see you, linasha,” I say, my voice sluggish, the words barely taking shape on my tongue.

“ Imere,” my Ellie says, and I feel her fingers stroking down my face. “ Mritehere .”

I wish I could understand her. Wish I was not so injured, so I could take her in my arms and show her my devotion the raskarran way.

Then I feel my Ellie settle next to me on the pelts, her little hand on my chest, right above my heartspace.

It beats for you, I say. Or maybe just think. I am not sure. My mouth feels sticky, my tongue too big. I try to think the words loudly. Maybe she will hear them that way.

It beats for you, linasha.

It beats for you.