Page 74 of Mates for the Raskarrans #1-6

CHAPTER TWO

Vantos

I t feels as though someone is stomping round inside my headspace when I wake.

My whole body aches, far more than just from endless running and walking through the trees.

I am stiff and dirty and I cannot understand it.

We were close to the village. I should be sleeping in my own hut, comfortable. Clean.

The memories come back - slow at first, then racing into my headspace at a painful speed. The Cliff Top tribe. Their demands for the females. The way the chief looked at the female with the sunset hair. How he spoke of breaking her.

Rage blossoms in me afresh, a snarl in the back of my throat. But as my muscles tense, pain rips through me and the anger, the fight, is knocked out. I remember the battle with the Cliff Top males. I remember gutting them one by one. And then being struck by arrows. Falling to the floor. And then…

I open my eyes. The roof overhead is woven with different vines.

The healer’s hut, then. I am back in the village.

My tribe brothers won a victory against the Cliff Top males and brought me home to recover.

My chest is bound tight, my wounds itchy with healing.

Unease tightens my stomach as I wonder if any others were hurt.

If any of the females were injured or captured.

Or killed.

I must know. I must find out. It was my job as the strongest warrior to defend my brothers and the females and I must know if I have failed in this. I push myself upright, a growl escaping me at the pain that slices through my chest.

I hear a soft sound of surprise, a rush of footsteps, and then a delicate little hand presses against my shoulder, trying to push me back down into the bedding.

“ Dongetup ,” a female voice says, speaking their nonsense words with a delicate voice. “ Liestill. Illgetwhatchuneed. ”

I cannot understand her, but her hand is firm on my shoulder.

I could push past her easily, but… It would not be honourable.

I do not wish to frighten her. Do not wish for her to think me a brute.

So I lie back down. As soon as my head rests back against the bedding, I realise I have come over faint.

My vision blurs, the room above me going dark.

I fight to stay conscious, blinking until that darkness starts to clear.

The hand is no longer on my shoulder. I turn my head, but the female is not in my view.

I can hear her talking to herself as she clatters with Shemza’s things.

I wonder what she is doing. Try to twist my neck so I can see.

Then she walks back over to me, her arms so full of pelts I cannot see her face behind them.

“Why do you bring me these?” I ask. “It is hot.”

Too hot. Sweat beads on my skin and I want to kick off the pelts already on me.

I wonder if that is just the heat in the air, or if my body burns with fever still.

I am sure Shemza has treated me with djenti berry paste.

The worst of my injuries should be healing.

I bite back another snarl of frustration that I do not feel better than this.

“ Okay ,” the female says, sitting on the bed beside me. “ Nowletsgetchusatup. ”

One of her arms still cradles the extra pelts, but with the other, she reaches for me, her little hand going beneath my shoulder and encouraging me upwards.

I hiss as pain slices through my stomach, hot and sharp, but I want to be up, I want to be out of the hut, so I try to ignore it, try to push through, even as my vision starts to blur and go dark again.

The female slides the pile of pelts behind me just before I collapse back down, leaving me half sitting - propped up on the pelts.

The wound in my stomach is still compressed, but now I am not trying to sit upright, it no longer hurts so intensely.

I breathe hard, the pain exhausting me, waiting for my racing heartspace to slow again, for my vision to clear.

I feel rather than see the female leave my side, her weight on the bed lifting. A moment later, she is back, touching a cool cloth to my temple. Water trickles out of it, down my face and neck, cooling my burning skin.

Then I feel little fingers brushing over my hair and it is a familiar touch, somehow.

As if I have felt it before. I like it. The soft brush of skin against my brow, the tickle of this female’s scent in my nose - floral, like the scent of chosta flowers after the rainy season, and feminine.

I breathe it deep into my lungs, let it calm me.

With each lungful, my vision returns more and more.

When my eyes focus, it is on the female with sunset hair.

The one who is far more beautiful than all the others combined.

Gregar might talk much of his Liv, and she is lovely in her way, with her long dark hair and fierce gaze.

But she is nothing compared to this one, who shines like she has taken the sun inside her.

Whichever of my brothers is chosen for her will be the luckiest male in the village, I think.

“ Better? ” she says, a question in her tone. I do not understand her words or what she is asking. I wish I did.

The door to the healer's hut opens, and Shemza walks in. He smiles when he sees me.

“You are awake, brother,” he says, gladness in his voice. The sunset female rises from her seat and gets out of the way as Shemza takes her place, touching a hand to my forehead. “Your fever is much improved. How is your pain?”

“I am fine,” I say, brushing him aside.

Shemza gives me a stern look. He is more than ten seasons my junior and should not look at me like I am the insolent youngling. But in this hut, Shemza is chief, and I must obey him in all things.

“I am fine now I am comfortable,” I amend.

Shemza nods, then checks my bandages. “You have been sleeping for nearly three sunsets. Your fever was strong. I thought for a while it would not break. I suspect the Cliff Top tribe dipped their arrows in some poison. Slime from the skin of a vetti eel, perhaps. I can think of nothing else that would keep such a strong warrior down.”

I grunt at his attempt at soothing my ego. I should not have stayed ill for so long, poison or no. My tribe needs me, more so now we have females to protect.

“Were any others injured?”

Shemza shakes his head. “Cuts and bruises, nothing more. Anghar’s linasha saw that the Cliff Top archer could hurt no other.” He grins. “She has great skill with a bow. Anghar is most pleased.”

I can imagine. I am pleased for him. Anghar is a fine male and deserves a fine mate.

“Were all the Cliff Top tribe killed?”

Shemza nods. “And there has been no sign of them since. Gregar has us doing extra patrols night and day, but there has not been so much as a whisper.”

No. It will take time for the rest of the Cliff Top tribe to realise their brothers are not returning. To follow their trails through the forest to our door. Perhaps they never will, but it does not sit well with me not to consider it. To plan for it.

“I wish to help with patrols,” I say, trying to sit up a little more.

“And you will, brother,” Shemza says, his hand firm on my shoulder. His large, strong hand. Funny how it does not pin me in place as effectively as the tiny hand of the female. “But first, you must rest.”

“I do not wish to rest,” I grit out, but even this small act of defiance sends waves of exhaustion through me. Shemza gives me another stern look, and I know he can see my pain and tiredness clear as he can see the nose on my face.

“I do not wish to rest, but it seems my body demands it,” I say with a sigh.

I turn my head, seeking the sunset female. She must be standing behind me, out of sight. Shemza guesses what I am looking for, though.

“I have two new assistants,” he says, chest puffing up with pride. “The human healer, Grace, and Rachel. She is new to healing, but she is learning well.”

“RAY-chel,” the sunset female says, coming over. “ Not ra-CHEL.”

She says it with a teasing grin, and Shemza looks bashful. I get the sense that they have had this exchange many times before and… I do not like it. Something unpleasant bubbles in my chest at the thought of their playful teasing of each other while I have been unconscious.

“Their names have strange shapes, the humans,” Shemza says to me. “I do not always get them right.”

I glance at the sunset female, fix her name in my mind. RAY-chel. I find I care little about any of the others. They are my sisters, and I will fight to defend them with all my strength. But they do not interest me the way that Rachel does.

She is not yours , I remind myself. Lina did not choose her for you.

She may already be mated to one of the others. Not Shemza. He would not have introduced her as his assistant if she had mated to him. But one of the others who did not travel with us, perhaps. Callif or Endzoh or Paskar.

“Have there been further matings?” I ask.

Shemza shakes his head. “Not these last three nights. But the humans are weak and frightened. They have hungered far longer than they were stuck on the sands. The female Sally tells me of their world and it does not sound like a good place. She thinks that the females need more time to feel safe, that perhaps then they will start to form mating bonds with the tribe.”

“They are safe,” I say. “I will keep them safe, I have sworn it.”

Shemza gives me a look like an elder indulging a youngling. “And we know you are good on your word, brother, but they do not.”

Once he has checked my wounds and applied more djenti berry paste, Shemza has Rachel fetch food and water for me.

I drink greedily of the waterskin she brings, the cool liquid soothing my dry throat and lowering my temperature a little more.

She smiles as she takes the empty skin from me and holds out a bowl of broth.

I breathe deep, but it does not smell as delicious and appetising as normal.

“Is there something wrong with the broth?” I ask Shemza.