Dinner For How Many? Who Knows?

As was her habit, she was up long before the Central Fire began to light the horizon. There was much to be done today, and it would not get done laying in the furs. Sitting up, there was a small wave of nausea, but it passed. When she rolled out of the furs, she dressed and made a list of all that she needed to get done today in her head.



Of course, the first order of business was food. Not for her, but for those of her wagons, which included that group of elite Ubar's guards. She fried up stacks of tarsk strips, scrambled eggs with cheese and cream in them, and set it all out with pieces of warm flatbread and they came by and served themselves. She made up plates for the boys and herself and went to their wagon to share the meal with them. While junean got them dressed for the day, she went in search of the solution to her next item on the list.



She knew that Aponi would be a good choice under other circumstances, but she also knew how the man felt about women that were with child, and she just could not see him allowing one close enough to measure him for leathers so she found herself at the leather workers clan wagon looking for Magda. The woman was a bit older, but not so old that she would be repulsive, and she was very good at her work. She carefully explained to the woman what she needed, where the man's wagons were, and that Ba'atar wanted him to have the finest that could be made. So, Magda went off in search of Fonce, her measuring string in hand. The woman was good. She had been making leathers and vests for Ba'atar for many seasons.



Returning to her wagons, she was set upon by her sons wanting some time with her. She finally agreed to take them to the stream, as long as they understood that they would not be getting into the water. Yeah, right. In all honesty, they were not all that bad. The older two ran off a lot of excess energy and Also seemed fascinated by the plants that grew along the banks, and Two, well, he was cranky, but it soon passed. It turned out to be a busy day at the stream. There were those there doing laundry, Siken was getting water, even Fonce showed up to ultimately just nap under the warmth of the rays of the Central Fire. He was distracted, which is expected. She addressed him a few times, but his mind was elsewhere, so she would talk to him some other time.



One thing that amazed her was Ayguili. For someone that is usually so unemotional, he seemed to have a way with the boys. It was hard for her in some ways, to all him near them, but she had to push that reticence down deep, they were his nephews, and he would not harm them, and she needed to not allow her opinions of the man cloud her judgement in allowing him to be near them. Now, does that mean she did not keep a close eye on them? No, she watched them like a hawk, but she would do that with anyone.



Finally she got them all herded together and on the march back to the wagons. One and Another One had weapons practice with Rook, and Also and Two needed their naps. She found herself making promises that she probably would not be keeping that day. One to Tarra to come visit her at her wagons, and another to Falon to go for a ride. She did not think there was going to be enough ahn in this day to do either of those, and she hated herself for making such promises.



She had not been back at the wagons long when one of Ba'atar's men showed up to gather up the boys. As much as she would have liked to have questioned him, she knew better. He simply told her that the Commander wanted the boys to go cheer someone up. This caused her brow to arch and she muttered under her breath. Good luck. She hoped whoever needed cheering up, was good with spirited boys.



With the boys gone, she and juneau fell to cleaning the seating area around their wagon. It was not all that big a chore since they had done the same thing earlier in the hand, but she still wanted everything to look tidy and neat. The furs were beaten to within a hort of their lives, as were the rugs. Again that treasured low table was brought out, arranged near the fire and three saddles were set around it an covered with furs. She hoped that three would be enough, her mate had been rather vague as to how many exactly to expect for dinner. Stepping back, she gazed around the fire and was satisfied that things were as she wanted them. She then went around dropping herbs into the flames to scent the air.



Now, as to the meal? All she had been told was to make something good, then the caveat was added to make bosk strips, lots of them. Obtaining a good cut of bosk, she carefully sliced it into strips and sprinkled them with just enough yellow salt to help to enhance the natural flavor of the meat. These were put onto roast and she watched them carefully until they reached the right degree of doneness. She did not want them bloody, nor did she want them to dry out, so she was vigilant to take them off the flame at just the right moment, placing them into a large, covered iron pot that was placed just close enough to keep them warm, but not so close that they would continue to cook. The juices that had come from the meat as it was roasted had been collected in a pan, and would be used as a sipping sauce.



She knew that Fonce was not a big fan of bread, but Ba'atar was, so she also made flatbread for him. She then prepared a tray of various cheese, and some of the fruits from the storage barrels that had survived the trip north. And of course, there was honey. Pots of honey, honey cakes, and some of her roasted, honeyed nuts. Also there would be crocks of freshly churned butter for Ba'atar's bread. It was a simple meal, but one that she hoped would tease the palate of both men.



It was time for her now. A bath was in order. Leaving nithya to keep an eye on the meal, she took juneau with her to the bath wagon to help her to bathe and braid her hair. Her bath was one of the luxuries that she allowed herself. Bathed, dressed and braided, she returned to the fire, still a little curious as to where her little squad of sons was.

The Prodigal Returneth

22 But the father said to his servants, Bring forth the best robe, and put it on him; and put a ring on his hand, and shoes on his feet:
23 And bring hither the fatted calf, and kill it; and let us eat, and be merry:
24 For this my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost, and is found. And they began to be merry.

Luke 15: 22-24



She had been fixing herself something to eat and bantering with Falon and Aponi as she did, when she caught a movement from the corner of her eye, and recognized it as Rook. She had asked if he wanted blackwine and when he did not answer her she turned to him to ask again, and what she saw brought her heart up to pound in her throat, and the bowl she was holding to slip from her grasp.



Just the shock of what she was seeing was enough to bring her to a pause, but when she became cognizant of who it was that had a hand on Rook's shoulder and moved so slowly, might be, it took her breath away for a moment. Fonce. The dirty, emaciated figure that moved to drop down on a brace of furs, was Fonce. He did not so much sit down, and he simply dropped. It was like watching a long column of bones simply collapse in upon itself.



Still rooted to her spot, it was Rook that spurred both she and Falon into action, calling for food, water and cloths. Falon raced off to his wagons to find clothing, and she quickly made a bowl of stew and grabbed a bota of water and moved towards where they sat. Kneeling down she held the bowl out to him and spoke softly, trying to keep the emotions out of her voice, simply offering him food. She had to blink back tears as she watched the thin arm reach for the bowl, and she kept her hand under it until the dirty, trembling fingers had it within their grasp. She was not sure he was even strong enough to eat the stew, and this pained her.



Yes, they hovered, which was not good. It took her a few moments to remember how he was about his personal space and she lifted and backed away, unable to draw her gaze from the filthy figure sitting there. He was not only dirty, but bloody, and there were cuts and abrasions on every surface of his body that she could see. His lips were dry and cracked, and his voice rough, as if it had not been used in quite sometime. Where had he been? What had he been through? How had he survived? All of these were questions that were swirling through her mind, but would remain unasked until he took it upon himself to answer them, if he ever did.



A light of recognition came to his eyes as he looked to the stew then up to her and said her name. Maybe he was remembering a morning long ago when he had returned and she was there with stew. Stew and an ear. She counted this man as one of her closest friends, and it hurt to see him like this. It hurt to see him looking so lost, so confused. She was accustomed to seeing such a sharpness in those dark eyes, a knowledge, and awareness, that just was not there at the moment.



She had finally had to walk away under the guise of fetching him some honey from the supply wagon. She gathered not only the honey, but dug down into that reserve of strength to find what she needed to be able to help him if he asked for it. Her heart actually sped a bit when she saw the look on his face as he took the jar of honey. Oh yes, he was in there, but she had a feeling that the struggle for Fonce to return to being Fonce was only starting.


It was Rook that suggested that maybe sleep was what was needed, and Fonce seemed to agree. The next question that came from him, sent a bolt of pain through her heart. Where was T'zuri? She and Falon glanced to each other, both of them lacking the courage to breech that subject with him at the moment. She could have said something to appease him, like.........she does not know you are back yet, we will find her for you. But she could not lie to him. He might forgive much, but the Fonce she knew would not forgive a lie. So, coward that she was at the moment, she simply allowed the question to pass with no answer, and Rook came to the rescue saying that he would walk Fonce to his wagons, because he had something to speak to him about.



There was no speaking. Rook helped him to his wagon and he crawled inside and collapsed into the furs. And as she has seen the elder oralu do many times, he took up a post on the platform of that wagon, and skies help the person that thought they would disturb the man before he was rested and ready.



She had returned to her wagons and lay in the furs for a long time, just staring up watching the shadows cast by the fire from her brazier on the overhead covering, thinking. Finally she had gotten up, dressed and slipped out and went to sit on the platform beside Rook.



For a long time no words passed between them. With them, often words were not needed, but he finally spoke to her in a very, low, hushed tone.



"He has been through an ordeal, and right now is more dead than alive. What he needs now is rest, food and more rest. He needs time to adjust to being back among people, time to wrap his mind around what has happened. I am not real sure that he realizes he has been gone so long, and we have to let him be able to bring all of that back into focus in his own way, in his own time. And when he is ready to talk of anything, what you must do is not treat him as an invalid. You have to bring yourself to treat him as you always did. You treat him too gently, he will resent it. Remember, he is a man, a warrior, and was at one time the leader of our people. Do not treat him as anything less than that."



She sat there, knees pulled up,arms wrapped around her legs as she listened and realized the truth to his words. It would be hard, because right now she wanted to baby him as she would one of her sons, but Rook was right, he did not need that. Care and attention? Yes, he needed such, but not in a smothering way. Sitting there, she could hear the rumbling snores from within the wagon of a man that was exhausted, physically, mentally, and even emotionally.



She leaned to give Rook a kiss on the cheek then slid off the platform and made her way back to her own wagon and her furs. Tomorrow was another day, and showed signs of being an interesting one.



All any of them could do is rejoice that he was home safely, and give him the time to wrap his mind around what had happened. What was there, and what was no longer there. The time for questions would come, and she would answer them as truthfully as she knew how.

Just Another Night at the Fires

When she had first arrived at the fires in the evening, she was met with a surprise. There sat Kaioba talking with Tarra. It was a pleasant surprise for she had not seen the woman in almost a full turning of the seasons. In fact, not since there were in the north last season. It was no unusual for the woman to seclude herself, losing herself in her writings and her art. She looked good, and it was good to see her, and she promised to not stay away so long.



People come and people go, that is how it is at the main fires. Soon both Tarra and Kai had gone to their wagons, and she was left with Ayguili. As much as she tried, her conversations with him were always a bit strained, and this one started out no differently. She owed him a debt of gratitude and was not exactly sure how to express it, and her words were awkward, something unusual for her. He had finally lifted his hand to stop her words, and told her very simply that he was happy he could help, and for her to always stay as she was, and to never lose faith in what she and Ba'atar had. His parting words were some that she would think on. A woman that is faithful to her mate, was a treasure and for her to never take that treasure from his brother.



It grew quiet again and she had passed the time playing her flute, allowing her mind to drift with the notes of the melody around the fire. Eventually she was joined by Teng and Aponi and it always made her smile to see the love between the two. It was good to see. Soon they were joined by Falon and there was much teasing of Aponi. This had become an enjoyable thing because the young woman always blushed so prettily and took it all with good humor. Teng was exhausted and soon left for his wagons, and the women were left there alone.



Talk turned to Aponi and her pregnancy and what she could expect. They both tried to ease some of the fears that the woman had. Hopefully they had succeeded. She was worried that the younger woman's fears would make the birthing more difficult, for she could remember being afraid, but not exactly to the point Aponi was.



As it is with women, the talk turned to others from the fires, mainly to the prospects. The young woman, Yamka had completed a task for Aponi, and the report that Aponi gave her told that the task was completed, but the methods that the woman had used, were more difficult than they needed to be. She advised Aponi, that they should talk to the woman and try to teach her better ways to process a hide. And when they did, they would have to try and not make the methods she had been taught by her father to seem wrong, but just different. It was a delicate balance to achieve.



As they laughed and talk, they were all probably aware of the message of the drums, it was part of their daily lives and the pounding about strangers approaching so little attention was paid to it. Rook finally slid off the platform where he had been sitting to go investigate. Possibly because he grew tired of the prattling of women, as men often do.



The conversation and teasing continued.......and then it happened.

Mission Accomplished.

What can be said about their night together? Much, but not of it for anyone other than them.



At first he was confused by the quiet. It was rare that he arrived to not find the boys scrambling for his attention, or someone waiting there for his ear, some problem to be solved, some perceived slight to be righted it. There was none of that thanks to Ayguili and his parents.



There was good food, wine and small intimacies shared that were needed by both. He was fed by her own fingers and he kissed them with each bite. He drank the wine and relaxed. They laughed, they teased, they talked of things great and small, but the important thing was that they talked.



There was even a conversation filled with double entendre' about the bulls and heifers. How some bulls became very possessive of certain females, and she countered that most heifers did not care which bulls the other heifers entertained as long as it was not that particular heifer's choice in bulls, then she could get very upset, and if you have ever seen a mad heifer, you know it is not a welcome sight. A fanciful, light conversation that held much meaning. Nothing else needed to be said about bulls, heifers, men or women and how they all related together.



When she lay the strand of beads in his hand there was that normal confusion of a man. She finally had to draw him a picture in words as to what it meant. Even then, it took him a few moments to digest it all, and of course, Ba'atar being Ba'atar, his chest swelled with pride and he took all of the credit. She could not help but laugh at him. They were well on their way to filling that dozen wagons. She had not said anything to anyone, wanting him to be the first to know. And, she did not wish to take anything from the others, especially Aponi, who was expecting her first child. It has not been so long, that she does not remember the excitement of that. Then there was Kaeli and Noya that had not been with child in many turnings of the seasons, and they were just as elated as Aponi, and she was thrilled for them all.



There was much teasing between them, and had he had his way, he would have taken her right there at the dinner fire, but she had other ideas and ran off teasing him, laughing. It felt good to tease and laugh, to relieve the tension from not only the move but also from all of the things that have happened since.



When the teasing was over and they finally came together, it was with an intensity that was almost frightening in its' nature, but exiting just the same. There was tenderness, there was even a struggle that led to something that surprised them both. Maybe not having a lot of time to spend together can be a good thing. Words whispered and groaned against flesh can be the sweetest when the flesh and the soul are heated by love and passion.



But, it was afterwards, when they had sated hungers and exhausted each other, that was the most important part. That time of holding each other, wrapped together not wishing to be parted, that was the crux of it all. That time when they whispered to each other in the quiet of that world they made together within the circle of their embrace that soothed heart and soul for them both.



Yes, it was a good night, and one that reaffirmed to them both that they could face any challenge that came their way as long as they faced it together.

A Woman On a Mission

She was a woman on a mission. A mission to be able to spend some quality time with her mate with no interruptions. Easy, you say? No, not easy at all. And she knew this, they knew this when this venture of him becoming Ubar began; however, she does not think he was quite as aware of it as she was. She had watched Fonce, and how he never truly had time to relax and enjoy his people. Someone always wanted his ear, and he was usually gracious enough to give it to them. Ba'atar was the same way. They wanted to speak to him, he was there. No problem was too small, no request went unnoticed. He gave until she couldn't give anymore, if that makes any sense at all.



The demands on him were wearing him down, whether he would admit it or not. She could see it in his face and his eyes that always seemed to be looking into space as he thought on the problems of his people. She wanted him to have some time to relax, to rejuvenate. And in her own way, she was being selfish, which was not entirely in her nature, but she was.



They had just traversed a difficult path that left them at outs with one another, and time was needed to repair the rift that had come between them. Time was needed for them to reaffirm the love they had for one another, to talk of things that were going on in their lives. And they have tried. The Sky knows that they have tried but it just has not worked. Each time that they found a few moments to spend together, there had been interruptions, or he had been dealing with the thoughts or problems of others. It is difficult to find that intimacy and closeness when you cannot be completely tuned in on each other. When you are pulled in so many directions.



They needed time. It was just that simple, and if they did not get it, she feared that what had been between them would be lost, and she would not lose without a fight. So, she worked on her battle plan as furiously as any commander in camp.



Part of this battle plan meant she would have to approach Ayguili for his help and this was not easy for her to do, but she did it. She pulled him away from the fire to talk to him, to ask if for just one evening, if he could take care of the needs of the Tribe and give them a break. She told him that she feared if they did not get this time, that she would lose him, and she was not sure she could survive that loss. He had looked at her oddly at first, the there was something in his eyes that led her to think he understood. He promised to try and keep everyone away from them for one evening, as best he could. That was all she could ask for at this point.



Her conversation with him was pivotal, because if he could not promise to do this one thing, the rest of it was all going to be for naught. The second step of her plan was the boys. Packing them little bags she had taken them to stay with Aamon and Birmmah. At first the woman showed disdain at her dumping her children on her, but Aamon stepped in and told her that Cana never did it, and if their grandsons could not spend some time with them, then what kind of grandparents were they. She could have just kissed him.



The next thing on her agenda was the meal. It had to be more than stew or a tabuk roast. She searched until she found someone that had a freshly killed tabuk and she traded for two steaks from it. Taking them to her wagon, she seasoned them and set them in the cold box in the ground to marinate. Fresh bread was made, along with a dessert made from last seasons dried berries that she macerated in wine to plump them up, then cooked them slowly with sugar to sweeten them. They were then put into a pot and buried in the coals to cook slowly all day with the bits of dough in them, and a top crust dusted with sugar. Later in the day, she would set the iron grill up over the fire and cook the steaks.



She and juneau worked like fiends to lean the campsite, making sure it was swept, the furs beaten soundly and put back down. She even brought up two old saddles, placed them beside the fire and draped furs over them to lean up against. She even had some dried sage and other dried herbs to drop into the fire to give off a pleasant, relaxing aroma. A small copper pot was set near the fire filled with water and dried flower blossoms to steep and allow their scent to gently waft around the area. She then brought out clay pots with tallow candles in them, to be lit instead of the oil lamps and torches. Stepping back, she was pleased at how every thing looked and smelled.



Next was her. She had a long soak in the bath wagon in a tub of water scented with the special oils that Tarra always kept her supplied with. That special mixture that was just for her. Her hair was washed, dried with toweling, then braided in a loose braid that hung down her back. One that could easily be unbraided if he so wished. She then pulled out that special leather dress that had belonged to her mother, the one that she had never really had an occasion to wear. It was so soft you did not even realize that it was leather, and had been dyed to a deep green, that set off the green flecks in her hazel eyes. It was decorated with swirls of matching green beading that had a way of catching the light and almost seemed to be almost luminous in their lustre. Adding her best boots, she stepped out and asked Rook if she looked okay, and an almost shy manner.



The old oralu looked at her, shook his head and asked her, did she not realize how beautiful she was? Her cheeks flushed as she shook her head, and pleaded with him to tell her that he though Ba'atar would be pleased. He grunted and said......if he isn't, then he is blind. That would have to do.



The food was ready, the camp looked lovely in the glow of the candles, and she had full trust in Ayguili that he would keep his word. All she needed now was her mate.

Men Will Be Boys and It is Good to Be Needed

She had returned the disguise to the storage wagon, then had gone to the bath wagon to clean up. She was growing a bit weary of all of this, but was not ready to capitulate just yet. She found a slave to help her to bathe, and to braid her hair, adding some beads to it. Dressing in one of her better soft leather dresses she went to the fires, and joined in the banter there. Yes, she was distracted, but she did the best that she could.

It seems like everyone is having babies. Well, no everyone, just Kaeli and Apoini that she knows of. It actually makes her very happy for them both, because she knows they will both make wonderful mothers. And, it was funny to watch Jai and Teng. If Teng's chest swelled any more, he would not be able to wear his vest. There was the usual banter and just that made her feel more normal, better.

Then there he was. He strides up, asks if anyone has anything to talk about and proclaims that he is hungry. Without a word she did as she always has and went to make him a platter of his favorite cuts of meats, cheeses and breads, and gets his bota. Moving to where he was sitting she lowered down and held it out to him. And held it, and held it, and held it. He treated her like some slave that could be ignored. Anger began to well inside her, but she swallowed it down like a bitter draught. She was not going to let him know how he was getting to her. She was stronger than that, so she just held the platter, never saying a word, but she knew that her cheeks were beginning to take on color.

She actually got a reprieve from a source she was not expecting. Jai. It had something to do with a wager on a spar, and a slave, or something like that. He did finally take a piece of the meat from the platter and walked off to spar. She promptly set the platter down on his furs and moved to the ones she had been sitting on, to watch.

Or she tried to watch. It was not a pretty thing. On any given day, one warrior can best the other, then the next day, the outcome would be reversed. Tonight was just not Ba'atar's night. Jai trounced him badly, but he gave almost as good as he got. In the end they were both beat and banged up, but Jai prevailed.

She had gone to get damp cloths to try and wipe some of the blood away, and he turned and looked down at her, and told her to take him to their wagons. He did not have to ask twice. She helped him to limp home to their wagon, and when they got here, he asked her if this meant that she was home. She said yes, that if he wanted her, that she was home. That seemed to confuse him for a bit, so she told him, yes that she was home.

She had helped him to undress, made him some of the tea they had left from when he was injured before, then bound his ribs. There was no hiding the fact that he had missed her. Part of his body was willing, but the bruised and battered ribs were not. She finally convinced him to lie down and rest and let the tea work its' magic.

And it was her night to hold him, comfort him while he slept. It was good to be home.

Deception? Yes!

She almost felt guilty. Almost, but not quite. She just couldn't stand it any longer, she had to know how her family was. And there was only one way to find out. She had to be sneaky. Rummaging around in the supply wagon at the clan fires, she came up with what might just work as a disguise. An old pair of leathers, a tunic, a ratty old coat and a few other things. She put on the leathers, found a length of rope for a belt, then slid her braid down her back, tucking it into the waist, then came the tunic, and the old coat. It all helped to give a little bulk to her slim frame. She then crouched down and took some dirt and rubbed it on her face to maybe darken her skin a little, then came the wind scarf that she wrapped over her head and around the lower portion of her face so that only her eyes were visible. The finishing touch was a cloak that further hid her from view.




Choosing a kaiila from the pens she rode out into the herds mingling with the other out riders and the bosk. It was not long before she saw him and the boys. The baby was fussy and crying, and he didn't seem to know exactly what to do. They were all in need of a bath, that much was evident even from where she sat watching. She almost rode up when she saw Another One take One's bola and hit Also with it. No wonder the boy had bruises on his head. Two continued to fuss and cry, and she almost laughed when she saw Ba'atar trying to get him to take water from the bota.




The oldest two were griping about being hungry. When he passed them off some jerky, Another One refused it, saying he wanted real food like Mother cooks, something hot. One chimed in that he did too. Also One just nodded in agreement with the older two. You could almost feel the frustration pouring from Ba'atar's pores. He tried to explain to them that real warriors did not eat hot meals when they were in the herd.




It was Another One, her little thinker that looked to his father and said......Then take us to the wagon, find our Mother and she will make us hot food. Ducking her head to keep from laughing, she could have just hugged him at that particular moment. And as if to add his two bosk to the argument, Two took up his wail again.




Ba'atar reached for the reins of the kaiila that Another One and Also One were riding, then nodded for One to follow, and turned and started for the wagons, still trying to calm Two as he rode. It was a bit dangerous, for her to get any closer, but she decided it just might be worth it. She followed them at a distance and soon realized where he was headed. She gave a bit of a disgruntled chuckle and fell back and just watched.




He took them to his mother. Now why did that not surprise her? She could only imagine the conversation they were having. And she pretty much knew that all of the blame was falling on her. He left the boys there and rode away. She sat on the kaiila watching as Birmmah ladled stew into bowls and got the boys settled. She also saw Aamon duck his head hiding a smirk. She needed to talk to him, soon.



Turning the kaiila around she rode back to the pens, thinking on all of this. If he allowed her to come home, perhaps the next time he asked her what she did all day, and she told him that she took care of his sons, there would be a little less disdain in his grunt.

What Goes Around, Comes Around......Right?

The next few days were difficult on her. She buried herself into the only thing she knew and that was work. She worked long hard hours to try and keep her mind from her sons, and from Ba'atar. There was just this fear in her that he would not want her back, that he no longer loved her. If it came to that, she would have to deal with it.



One saving grace was Hallie. She spent an entire day working beside the young girl, listening to the tale of her hunting trip with Chayleene. It was good for Hallie to get to spend that time with the woman, to get the opportunity to learn from her. And she had learned. The girl was quick, very smart, and evidently a natural mimic, because the animal sounds that Chayleene has taught her are astonishing. So very real. She loves the young girl, and sometimes it makes her wonder what it would be like to have a daughter to spend time with, to teach things to, to share things with. She will probably never know, so for now, she will borrow Tara's daughter.



Each night, she cleaned up and went to the fires. The first night that she did, he showed up with the boys, and the only thing he said to her was.....My sons are hungry. She was thankful for that small nugget that he tossed her. She was allowed to feed her three older sons, to sit on the furs with them, just quietly speaking to each one. Now, she was not allowed near the baby, and that broke her heart. She could not help herself. She kept glancing at him. Evidently Ba'atar has decided it was time for the baby to be weaned and to drink from a cup. From what she saw, it was not going all that well, but she was in no position to say anything.



To her, it was a gift from the skies when he was called away and brought the baby and left it with her. For those few happy moments, she was a very happy woman to be allowed to spend this time with her children. But it all ended too soon. She would have loved to have bathed them, for they were all sorely in need of a good scrubbing. She would have loved to be able to put them down in their furs, and tell them a story, or play a song for them until they nodded off, but it was not to be. Time came for them to go to bed, and she had to turn them over to the slave. She had been told in no uncertain terms to stay away from the wagons, so she would. She had to leave the fires after that. She could not bear for anyone to see her cry.




The next night she returned to the fires and visited with her family there. Perhaps she was not as lively as she might have been, but she found comfort there, but no Ba'atar, and no repeat of the night she got to see her children. Many things lay heavy on her heart, but a few more than others, and one in particular. Things that she might have to learn to deal with, no matter how painful. She found herself listening to each set of boot falls, waiting for the one that she knew best, but it did not come.




After leaving the fires, she sat for a long time in the shadow of the kaiila clan wagon just listening to people walk by talking. She had heard the rumor that Karia had left, and she cannot say that she is sorry that the woman was gone. There was just something very devious and manipulative about her that made her uneasy. She hates to judge another person's intentions unfairly, but the fact that the young woman bolted in the middle of the night, says much about her. Was there some sort of guilt attached to her leaving? Was she trying to purposely cause trouble between her and Ba'atar? If she was, it had almost worked. But maybe she underestimated what they had. Maybe, when they had both had the time to think on this, it would serve to make them closer. It was yet to be seen.



She was not Tuchuk, and if the truth be known, her claims of having the powers of the spex were probably just as false as the front she tried to put up before the tribe, but that crumbled at the first sign of trouble. And so it goes.



Sometimes you just have to stop and realize......What goes around, comes around.

Work and Time Heal.....Don't They?

Work. That was the key. She had not rested well, there had been too many things on her mind, so she was up early. There was not much she could do but bury herself in her clan work.


Her first task of the morning was tending to Davu. Approaching him, her hand reached out to stroke his neck as she spoke softly to him. It was a mixture of words, clicks of her tongue and soft growls. One baleful eye looked at her, but he relaxed, allowed her closer. They seemed to have an innate sense that she meant them no harm. Kaiila were much more intelligent that same gave them credit for being. She continued to talk to him in a calm, reassuring tone as she crouched down, opened her pack and took out the jar of oil and the bits of verr wool. Carefully she massaged the oil into his joints then tied the pieces of wool around them as added protection and insulation. He was an old beast, and probably his days of carrying Aponi for long rides on the plains were well over, but he was not quite ready to be put down. She would tell Apoini that when the time came, she would do it.


The rest of her day was spent in minor injuries, cutting nails, cleaning caked mud and grass from between clawed toes. They were menial tasks that gave her plenty of time to think, which really wasn't what she needed, but it was there. A realization came to her. He could keep her from their wagons, he could even keep her from her sons if he took a mind to. But, he could not keep her from the circle of the first fires. Or could he? He was Ubar, after all. She had fought hard and long to earn her place at those wagons, and she did not intend to relinquish it so easily. She would return, and if he exiled her from them too? Well, she just did not know.


In the afternoon, she sat eating a meager meal of some dried meats she found in the clan wagon, choking it down with sips of water from a bota. Rook has materialized to check on her and she assured him that she was fine. She wasn't, but how she was really feeling would be kept a well guarded secret. He tried to feel her out, and she has just quietly told him that she was fine and would work this out on her own. Her only request of him, was to have juneau to bring her some clothing, if they thought it would not get her into too much trouble. The rest of the time was spent thinking about her sons, how they were doing, who was seeing that they were fed, bathed and in their furs at a decent time. Who was nursing the baby? All of these things tumbled around in her head constantly.


When the slave arrived with a bundle of clothing, she was probably happier to see her than the girl knew. She began to prod her gently as to how the boys were, and the girl stared down at the ground, replying softly that the Master did not want a slave around his sons that had been tainted by a woman. Why did that not surprise her? She had touched the girls hair and told her to go back to the wagons, to do her chores and to stay out of his way as much as possible. Now, juneau had never been a slave to offer all that much affection, but today she did. Leaning over, she kissed her boots and muttered low. I hope you return soon Mistress. She then jumped up and ran away. Watching her go, she whispered softly…."So do I girl, so do I"

Exiled

She had ran blindly into the night, trying to escape the pain that seemed to be wrapping icy fingers around her body, heart and soul, to no avail. It followed her, and would probably follow her for the rest of the days of her life. At one point, she found herself where she was the most comfortable, with the kaiila. Ciegue came to her, nudging her shoulder, almost as if he knew of the pain in her heart. She buried her face into his mane and cried even more, then whispered.......I guess I have dishonored you too. It did not seem to bother him, because he stayed right with her, never moving more than a few horts from her as she moved around.



She had been told to go to the outer wagons of her brother, but she just could not do that. She could not face the shame involved with her failure, so she would stay in the only place where she felt comfortable, with the kaiila. She had been such a fool, and she knew it. Jealousy is an unbecoming emotion in anyone, and she had reacted badly. But the thing that made it even worse, is that she had acted badly before others. She had shamed herself and Ba'atar before the Tribe, and she was miserable about it.



Getting some old, ratty furs that were stored in the clan supply wagon, she settled down on the ground, wrapping them around her and sat thinking and crying. She just loved him so much, and sometimes that love blinded her. She feared losing him, and that fear might just be the thing that drives him away. Ciegue still stayed beside her, dipping his head down to nuzzle her from time to time. She begins to talk softly to him between sobs and sniffles.



"You see, it is like this. I made a fool of myself, and embarrassed Ba'atar and everyone at the fires. He had come to our furs one night with the scent of another woman on him. At first, I thought it was a slave, and men have their slaves and I know that. I think what set me off was when I smelled that same scent on one of the new prospects, the one that just sets my teeth on edge to begin with. She is beautiful, but that does not bother me so much. Most of the women that surround me are beautiful, much more so than I. It is the way that she carries herself, her attitude of entitlement, and the way she tries to manipulate things. That angers me more than anything."



The half-blind beast runs his snout along her shoulder and she pulls her legs up, wraps her arms around them and continues to talk to him quietly like an old friend, a hand lifting to wipe the tears from her cheeks. "So, as I was saying, I smelled that scent on her, and something inside me just burst. I couldn't see anything but that smirk that she has this tendency to get, and I just wanted to slit her throat." Sighs. "It would have probably been better if I had done that, instead of what I did do. I let my anger and jealousy take over, and accused her of sleeping with Ba'atar." Hugs her legs tighter, frowns then continues. "That was wrong, and now that I have calmed down, I know it was wrong. You see, I don't think he would do that to me, but I was not thinking straight at the moment. And I do trust him, it is her that I don't trust. I think she is a manipulative she-sleen, and I do think that she has thrown herself at him. And, if you think of it, what normal man would not react. I do trust him, it is just her that I don't trust."



The kaiila snorts like he understood every word that she was saying. Her hand lifts to scratch the side of his long, beautiful face. "Now, I have no idea how Ba'atar got her scent on him as he did, but you can sure bet that I will ask him, someday. Might not be any day soon, seeing as how he has pretty much banished me from the fires, but I will ask. It might be the last think I ever get to ask anyone, but I intend to ask."



Her voice softens as the anger begins to drain out of her, and the tears seep from her eyes again. "I should never have acted as I did at the fires. I shamed him and I am miserable over that. I love him so much, and I think he knows how what he did would simply kill my soul. He sent me away. Away from him and my sons. It hurt so badly to see the confusion on their little faces. I will never get that image out of my mind or my heart. I fear they will never look at me the same after tonight. I would have rather he had beaten me, I think. I could have gotten over that, but I am not too sure how to get over this. Emotional pain is always harder to endure than physical pain, but I will find a way."



The kaiila nudged her again, and leaned down to take the edge of one of the furs between his fangs and brought it up, almost as if he was telling her it was time to sleep. Patting his nose again, she lay down, pulled the fur up and tried to sleep.

Promise

She had been working since early in the morning on getting their wagons settled in the way that was most efficient and most pleasing to her. Ayguili had sent kasra over to help after she had finished the chores around his wagons.



She and the girls were working on putting the oven back together, carefully stacking the fired bricks and covering them with mud from the steam, when Ba'atar rode up and held his arm down to her. She started to protest that she had too much to do, but didn't. These few moments that they managed to steal together had become like precious little gems to be hidden away in her heart.



Their first stop was the kaiila pens where he pointed out a young fawn foal and told her that he wanted it trained to be the mount for Another One. She had observed the foal and nodded, asking where he had gotten it and he said it was part of Teng's payment for Apoini.



They then rode out into the herds and he pointed out each small herd that he was building for each of their sons, each bosk marked not only by their normal brand, but by smaller brands that had been chosen for each boy. They discussed all of this at length, making plans for the future of their sons.



He then rode deeper into the herd and when he stopped, she was in awe. Turning to look at him she asked where it had come from, and he told her........Teng. He dismounted then held his arms up to help her down. Wrapping his arm around her waist they approached the beautiful white bosk, each of them laying a hand on the thick white coat along it's hump.



She was amazed by the beauty of the animal, and how its' coat shone in the rays of the Central Fire, almost taking up a cold, icy glow. Running her hand over the horn she stopped and studied it carefully, looking into the startling blue of its' eyes. There was an intelligence there that she found mesmerizing. It was almost as if the animal knew that he was special, a good omen, a sign of prosperity for their people.



She did not usually take to naming bosk from the herd, but this one was unique, special. Curling her fingers into the thick fur she leaned in to whisper in one twitching ear. "I will call you Promise. For you are a promise to our people." Ba'atar spoke with two of the out riders, dispatching one to tell Tarra of the white animal, and another to tell Teng that he has best claim the woman soon, or he was going to keep her.



He came to stand behind her, encircling her waist with his arms, a hand resting on her belly and spoke low into her ear about Teng taking great stock in the little leather worker. She had leaned back against him and laughed telling him that she thought it was sweet that Teng had given up so much of what was his to have the hand of Aponi as his.



Turning her, his hand lifted her chin, the calloused pads of his fingers running over her cheek as he whispered that Teng could give all he wanted for the woman Aponi, but that he held the greatest treasure on the plains in his arms every night.



She could have stayed right there in that embrace all day, but they both knew that these stolen moments were at an end. Both of them had far too much to do. Lifting her back up into the saddle, he mounted and wrapped his arm around her and rode back into camp and set her to her feet, leaning to steal one last kiss.



A sigh escaped from juneau's lips as she watched them. She turned to look at the girl and grinned and told her back to work. They needed to finish this over so he could have fresh bread this night.

Connecting

Something had happened between them. Something so wonderful it was difficult to think about. There had been the rush to the wagons, the telling of Rook to keep everyone away, Ba'atar tying the flaps in knots so they would not be disturbed. The needed and desire between them was palpable, it had a life of its' own, but there was more.


There were the words. Words of her being his calm and peace amidst the chaos. Words of him giving her the sense of protection and strength that she needed to deal with their new life. They both proclaimed that there were times when they both desired to just be on the plains with the other one, no one to disturb them. It was a dream, but one held by them both.


Perhaps this all had been brought about by the difficulties they had just been through during the journey. Both of them had almost lost the other one. She almost lost him to the Turians, and he her to the abyss when the ground opened up. Maybe it had led both of them to stop, and look at what they had. To realize how much they did love and need the other one in order to just be whole.


The touches were gentle, erotic and loving. Each built the fire between them to higher and hotter levels. Each played the others body like the most delicate of musical instruments, coaxing the melody of passion, desire and love from the other. They explored each other like it was their very first time, and found new pleasures they had not taken the time to enjoy before. There was a connection there between them like never before. There was no battle for dominance. There was no leader, or follower. There was a synchronicity, a perfect connection between body, heart and soul that had never been known between them before.

There was no him, no her, only Them. A new creature that combined the best of each. Not one where one fed upon the other, but one that sought to nurture and give succor to that other part of itself.



And when they finally came together it was looking into each others eyes, delving deep into each other's soul. The fire of their passion burned out of control and consumed them. He filled her body and her heart.



When it was over, they did not part. Neither of them wanted to lose this new found connection, so they lay together, still staring into one another's eyes, talking in whispers, her leg draped over his hip, connected. And sleep finally came to them. A restful, peaceful slumber.



When her eyes fluttered open, she was aware of the gray lights that heralded the dawning of a new day, but she was immediately aware of something else. Her eyes found his face, and there was that grin as he slowly moved inside her.



Yes, life was good in the wagons of the Ubar this morn.

Cold Days and Colder Nights

Upon reflection, she can never remember being as cold as she has been on this migration to the northern grounds. Perhaps that is because they have never left as late in the season as they did this time. So many obstacles had been thrown at them, but there was a certain amount of pride and satisfaction that they had met each one as a cohesive group, as a people. Each challenge had been met, and overcome.


And then there was the question of personal challenges. She had her own share of those, and tried to do the best with them that she could. She had suffered pain, but survived. She had looked death in the face, and survived. She had to relinquish the feeding of her youngest son to another while she was injured, but they had both survived that. She had spent many lonely nights, because her mate was tending to tribe affairs, but she survived.



All of these things heavy on her mind and heart during the last few hands of the journey, but she tried to face them one at a time. Perhaps it is selfish of her, but the one that seemed to haunt her the most was not getting to spend enough time with Ba'atar. She understood it, that the Tribe came first, as it should, but that did not mean she had to like it. It just seemed like each time they tried to get away just to talk, it did not happen. Someone always interrupted, someone always had to have his ear on some of the most amazingly mundane things you could imagine, but he gave it. It was actually funny in a way, that the man who could be so selfish at times, gave so freely to his people.


Right now, what she wanted most was just an ahn or two with him, with no interruptions, with no one needing his ear. For just a small amount of time, she would like to be the focus of his every thought. She promises to give him back, honestly she does. So many nights, he had finally stumbled into the wagon, only to fall into an exhausted sleep with maybe a kiss to her cheek or her temple. And on most of those nights, his rest was not for long, because someone was always looking for him, needing him. And so goes life.

Wise Words In a Safe Place

After she had managed to drag herself into the saddle, she passed out from the agony of her injuries. Slumped over the saddle she had no recourse to allow the kaiila to get her out of harms way. She was unaware of how carefully he stepped around the fissures that had appeared in the ground. She was unaware of how far he had to travel to avoid the chasms that seemed to drop off to infinity. She was unaware of the cuts he took to the taloned pads of his feet as he moved by instinct towards the two legged ones that he knew she needed.


Through that day, as he picked his way across the icy expanse of the plains, memories would surface from time to time in her head. She remembered the night that she and Fonce argued over the kaiila, and what he had said to her. Even in his disappointment of the kaiila maybe not being for him, he had told her that he felt that the animal was for her instead. He told her to watch him closely and maybe he would lead her. For a time she felt him close, almost as if in some way he was protecting her.


When they arrived back at the wagons, she became lucid enough to cry out in pain when she tumbled from the saddle into the gentle, waiting grasp of Tengfei. She was lucid enough to remember him carrying her into the warmth of a wagon.


Warm, she was getting warm then someone touched her side and she screamed out again in pain and slipped into that semi-lucid state that her mind and body had created to protect her. She was aware of others, of Tarra speaking softly to her, giving her strength to bear the pain. Telling her to find a calm, peaceful place, and she did.


It was the same place where she often goes when her mind is in need to calm and tranquility. Her eyes flutter open and the first thing she notices is the fire and the warmth that exudes from it. Then she would realize that her head lay in a lap, a very familiar lap, one that held and protected her when she was young.


Gentle fingers stroked her head, then that soft voice began to speak to her. "I have been waiting for you, daughter."


Closing her eyes again she whispers. "Am I dead?"


The soft laugh comes from her mother. "No, not dead, but you are badly injured."



Her brow furrows. "Am I going to die?"



For a time, the woman is quiet then speaks. "Do you wish to die?"



Tears begin to seep from the corners of her eyes. "I don't know. Sometimes I just get so weary, and I feel like everything I do is wrong."



The gentle hands urge her to sit up, and when she does her mother wraps her arms around her. "Now, tell me why you feel that way? I find it curious, because from watching you, you seem to be doing a fine job."



Leaning her head to that shoulder she speaks softly as she watches the fire, the flames dancing in colors she is not used to seeing. "I feel as if I am letting Ba'atar down, that I could do more to ease his burden, but I just don't know how to help him. Everyone seems angry at him, and I think that is just because they do not understand him as I do."



A kiss is placed to her temple. "Cana, he is different, he does things differently than maybe some others in his place did. People do not always understand that. But we watch him, and his heart is filled with love and concern for his people. He is trying to guide them back to the old ways, the ways that may be more difficult, but that will strengthen the Tribe. Some will always resist, and seek the simpler path."


Sitting up, she draws her knees up wrapping her arms around them. "Why does it have to be so difficult? Why can they just not see that he is trying, and they are not giving him a chance?



"Because they do not wish to see, and for varied reasons. Some simply wish to manipulate things for their own satisfaction and gain, and do not always look at what is good for everyone. And he has a way of seeming hard and unyielding, but that will change if they will give him the chance."


Hugs her legs tighter. "That is what I fear. I fear that they will not give him the chance and that I will lose him. If I lose him, I do not think I will wish to live."


The woman reaches to rub her back gently. "Listen to yourself. You have a job to do. You have children to raise and teach in the old ways. You must be there to protect them from those that will try to lead them astray. You must stay strong, for them, for him and for your people. Never lose sight of that."



She gets that stubborn set to her jaw that does not happen often. "If I lose Ba'atar, I do not want my children to be raised among them. I will take my sons and move back to the wagons of my family."



"And what of your daughters?"



Looks back to her mother as if she has lost her mind. "You have not been watching closely enough, I have no daughters, only sons."



The woman smiles at her. "You will someday, if you are patient, and they will need you."



She laughs. "Ba'atar with daughters? He will simply die if that happens. He thinks that he can only produce sons, that the Sky sees to that."



Her mother laughs with her. "Daughter, the Sky has many things in store for your man that he is not expecting. Just be patient and wait."



Her brow furrows again. "But what if he does not live to give me daughters? What then?" The sky seems to be getting lighter, and she begins to feel that pull to go back to her own world, and she knows that soon her mother will be leaving to return to hers.



The woman lifts to her feet and moves to the great white bird that transports her to these meetings. "Cana, have faith and trust. If they will just trust him, they willl survive and flourish. And help is coming."



She looks up. "Help?"



Her mother mounts the bird, reaching to stroke its' opalescent feathers. "Yes, the old one returns and she will seek out the woman child and train her. All will be well and the Tribe will survive and grow stronger if they will just trust and not be led astray. They must remember.......Tribe Above All. It is not about who seeks the most power. It is about the ones that keep the good of the Tribe in their hearts. Your man is one of those. Always walk his path with him, support and love him, and all will be well."



She stands, loathe to see her mother leave, and something comes to her memory. "Mother, tell Fonce thank you for watching over me, and that he is missed."



As the bird takes flight her mother looks at her. "You will have to tell him yourself someday, for he is not hear among us. Remember, trust. Never give up on anyone or anything."



She watches as the bird takes flight. "I love you so much, and miss you, but I will trust, for you have guided me wrong in the past." She watched as their shadow passed over the tre-moons, then felt that pull back to her own world take a firmer hold on her, drawing her back.

The World Falls Away

She hated it when he began to stir awake. They lay curled together like a couple of sleen pups underneath the layers of furs, and for the most part they were warm and comfortable. About the time that Ba'atar began to stir, so did Two. Rolling over, she reached into the cradle to dig him out from under his own blanket of furs and pulled him into hers, and began to nurse him. She was worried because either she was not making enough milk, or he was getting to where what she made was not satisfying him. The food rations they were on right now was probably affecting either of those situations. Kaeli had told her that she should be able to produce enough milk to satisfy him, but right now, it did not seem to be so. She would make sure today that she got her ration of verr milk and it would be given to him.


Ba'atar felt he was well enough to join the out riders in the herds. Whether this was the truth or not, she could not say, and she would not argue with him over it. It just was not worth it. After he left, she dressed Two warmly and took him to the boys wagon to be tended to by Ina for the day. She walked to where they had the kaiila herded together and cut Aponi's beast out from the rest. She had intended to send the salve to Aponi and let her tend to the animal, but had changed her mind. Crouched there beside him she rubbed the salve into his joints, wrapped them then threw a blanket over him. Leading him back to the wagons, she tethered him to a wagon, mixed up the herbal mixture with the paga and finally persuaded him to drink. Until they reached the Northern grounds, he would travel tethered to the wagon and would receive her attention each day until she had the chance to teach Aponi how to do it.


By the time they began to move, it was so bitter cold that you almost could not breath. She had never felt or seen anything like it. Rook came riding back and said that there were two older bosk that were down. She saddled up Ciegue and Lyric and told her girls to dress warmly, because they had meat to butcher before it froze. She rode Ciegue and led Lyric by the reins following Rook back to where the bosk were. The two girls rode on Lyric. On the return, one would have to ride with Rook and the other would have to ride with the meat that they would pack on the kaiila's back.


Stopping at the first bosk, it was already dead and had began to freeze. She and Rook worked quickly to skin and butcher the animal, saving every bit that they could, even the bones with their rich marrow. Her wind scarf was pulled so high she could barely see over the rim of it, and what little skin that was exposed burned from the frigid air and wind, and even in the gloves, her fingers began to ache and not want to move. After finishing the first animal, the rode to where the second old heifer lay panting in the snow, one of her legs broken, probably from her struggle to move through the high, icy drifts of snow. Rook was merciful when he put her down, and they began to work quickly. The line of wagons was on the move and they did not want to fall behind.


When they had salvaged all that they could, she had stood, hands on her lower back, stretching. They had given some less choice pieces to the three kaiila, simply because they did not want them attacking to get to the fresh kill. The kaiila were existing on smaller rations just like they were, but did not have the logic that it took to understand why. All they would know is that they hungered and there was meat. After they were fed, the remainder of the meat was distributed and tied down securely. Rook had taken juneau up on the saddle behind him, and kasra was to ride on the beast with the bulk of the meat. They readied to return to the serpentine line of wagons.


Never before had she been this cold. It was to the point she was almost ill from the aching of it, and she did not understand some of the groaning and cracking noises that seemed to grow more intense in nature, and more frequent. She had gathered the reins into her gloved fist, reached for the pommel of the saddle and had just lifted one booted foot to the stirrup, when the air was filled with the most horrid, cracking, roaring noise she had ever heard. Her foot dropped back to the ground, her hand moving to calm Ciegue who had danced slightly. She looked to see that Rook's animal had reared and juneau was barely able to hang on, and kasra had not fared so well. She went flying through the air as Lyric reared and bucked, and landed on the ground.


She was about to take a step to help the girl when another of those rumbles was heard and she could feel the earth shifting beneath her feet. Ciegue took a step back and suddenly there was no ground beneath her feet. The shelves of earth below the surface were shifting, cracking, rearranging themselves. She barely had time to grab the stirrup when the ground disappeared.


A searing pain went through her arm and shoulder as her entire weight, along with the weight of the additional clothing, came to rest on that one hand that gripped the stirrup in what amounted to a grip for her very life, and the supporting arm and shoulder for that hand. Her other hand was grasping for some sort of hold on something, but all it could find was icy ground. Gripping the stirrup tighter she moved her head very slowly to look around and see just exactly what kind of predicament she was in.


She was hanging from the stirrup, her legs flailing in the air trying to get a purchase on the wall of ice that dropped off beneath her. Some how, she was hanging over the edge of a deep, ice crevasse in the ice that seemed to drop off an eternity into darkness. Closing her eyes for a moment, she tried not to focus on the pain in her arm and focused on getting her legs to quit moving, which only added pressure to her fragile grip on that saddle. For a moment, there was this fleeting thought……Rook will be here in a moment, he will save me. I am fine.


Opening her eyes she looked around, and her heart sank. Rook and the girls were standing on the other side of the crevasse, and would be no help. He yelled to her that he was sending for help, but she knew that her frozen fingers would not last much longer. This was her death, and her heart stopped for a moment realizing this. And in that moment, she saw the faces of her mate and their sons, and knew that she would never see them again.


She had closed her eyes and was summoning the courage to let go, to face her fate when she felt something tugging at her arm that was flailing for purchase on the icy ground. Suddenly the grip tightened and she managed to open her eyes and look in that direction.


Ciegue had that blind eyes turned towards her, but had managed to lower his head and grasp her free arm with his jaws. Thankfully she was well padded due to the cold, because once he satisfied himself that he had a good grip on her arm, he began to step back away from the abyss in the ice, pulling her hort by hort. As he backed away and pulled her, she was able to find purchase on the side of the ice and was able to help. With all of this happening, the pressure on her other arm decreased to the point that she was able to hold on, or maybe her fingers were just frozen into position.


Step by step, he backed up until she was able to get her body and legs up over the side of the wall of ice, and onto what she was only hoping was stable ground. Ciegue pulled until he deemed it safe then released the grip of his jaws on her arm, and she finally released the stirrup. When that arm hit the frozen ground, she let out a blood-curdling scream from the intensity of the pain in her shoulders. She was laying face down in the snow, struggling for air and lacking the strength to turn herself over. She felt the gentle nudging of the kaiila as he turned her onto her bad side, causing her to let out another scream.


He seemed to know what he was doing. Folding those long legs beneath himself he lowered to the ground beside her and nudged again. How she saw through the pain enough to have the presence of mind to grasp the pommel with her good hand, she would never know, but she did. With her injured arm tucked in close to her body, the tears of pain flowed from her eyes, freezing on her cheeks that were now exposed, she did manage to pull herself into the saddle with the good arm.

Slowly Ciegue lifted back up and began to move towards the herd, looking for a place where he could cross from where they were to where the others were, stepping carefully around the fissures that had suddenly formed in the ground. She was barely concious, when she heard a voice and a memory swam around her.


She and Fonce were standing in the kaiila pens discussing Ciegue. She was trying to press the kaiila on him, knowing that he wanted and needed him, but he refused. She heard his words from that day.....No, I do not think he is for me. I think he is for you........The words flow around her as she fights the pain then she heard the voice again..........Trust in him Cana, trust in his instincts.

And with that, she passed out from the pain, barely clinging to the back of the half-blind beast.

To Cast the Right Shadow

Having to ride in the wagon due to his injuries, had not put the man in a good mood. For a time, she wished that they had gone ahead and put the hammock up. Not that he would have probably laid in it, but it would have been there just the same.



Kaeli had check on him, catching a view of his behavior and just chuckled and hugged Cana on her way out of the wagon, and whispered in her ear that she wished her luck.



Very little was said between them during the day. For the most part he had slept, which was good. He needed the rest in order to heal. She did as she usually did when she rode in the wagon. Tended to her son, fed and entertained him, and tried to keep Ba'atar calm and warm. Extra furs were piled on him, and when the baby got sleepy she had tucked him into those furs as well. She would look up from time to time to find him watching her, but still little was said, other than his short one word answers to whether he wanted food or drink. Mostly he slept.



When they had made camp for the night, she had slipped out to get him some broth and a mug of warmed wine. Before she could even finish gathering it up, he came out of the wagon, fully dressed and worrying the arm that was splinted and bandaged. And being the bosk headed man that he was, he took his quiva out and cut the bandages off. She has said a harsh word to him, and he slapped her on the backside with the splints, got angry and stalked back to their wagon.



She followed with the broth and the wine, only to find him sitting leaned up against a wheel, trying to drag a fur up over him against the chill. He looked tired, haggard, and in need of some company, or maybe not? Whether he wanted it or not he got it.



Lowering beside him she gave him the wine which he took. He said he did not feel like arguing, so they didn't. They talked, something they did not get much time to do any more. He explained his feelings on the ring thing, and after hearing them, she understood. She promised to not make a decision like that again without speaking to him first, so basically, that was over.



She did voice the concern about her fear that she was a disappointment to him, which seemed to surprise him. He asked her if he was a bad mate. Now how do you answer that? She tried to answer it as simply and kindly as she could. She told him that she thought that he was just not accustomed to having a mate yet, and that she knew that she and the boys were not his main concern and she could deal with that. She just loved him so much, she hated to see how he struggled with things at times.



This was a man that had taken on a woman that had been mated twice, and who had two sons by warriors other than himself. And to his credit, he had never shown any partiality to his son over the others, and that just made her love and respect him more.



They came to an agreement that she would listen more, and that he would listen more to her, and think before speaking. To think about the impact his words and actions would have on her. She had shifted to sit beside him, holding a rolled up fur for him to brace the injured arm on. It had surprised her a little when he lifted his good arm, and used those calloused fingers to stroke her cheek so gently. It had made her smile, and maybe it have given her a little courage.



She asked if he ever regretted taking her as his mate. This question seemed to surprise him, but he did answer it. How could he regret any decision he had made. He had taken her as his, and saw her as the shadow he cast over others. This was something she would give thought to.



Their teasing sides came out as they spoke of his sons growing up to be just like him. She threatened to cut their little nut sacks off now before they got to that point, with a grin. And he had countered that he was going to miss her, also with a grin. He allowed that his sons would have his charm, and she said hopefully her sense to go along with it.



They were both tired, and she managed to get him up again and into the wagon. He was asleep almost as soon as his head lay on the furs. She took that opportunity to put some salve on his arm, and to wrap bandages around it to protect it from dirt and the cold. There was no splint, so maybe he would leave it bandaged.



Laying down on his good side, she had smiled when in his sleep he had reached for her, to draw her closer to him. Turning over, she lay her head on his shoulder and relaxed. She did not sleep immediately, instead she lay there thinking.



His shadow, the one he cast over the people. Thinking on this, an understanding came to her. He had great expectations of her, and she would work harder to live up to those expectations. If she was to be his shadow, she had to put more thought and consideration into what she said or did, for she was his representative when he was not there. With this on her mind, she finally slept, curled up against him, content and happy.

A Time to Sleep and to Heal

Working together they had managed to get his exhausted, wounded body up the steps and into the wagon. He stumbled to the pile of furs and literally dropped down, throwing his good arm over his eyes, and probably would have slept that way had it not ben for her.



Tugging his boots off her nose wrinkled at the odor of animal dung, mud and blood. Sitting them beside the flaps, she managed to get his leathers off. They had already taken his vest off and Kaeli had sliced through his tunic to get to his wounds. Taking the bloodied leathers and boots, she stepped out onto the platform and freezing cold or not, there was the ever faithful kasra, rolled up in a fur on the steps. She handed the clothing off to her, told to clean them, and to go to the fire, look for his vest and get it and if it was still serviceable to lean it too.



Stepping back inside, she moved to the kettle that was kept simmering on the brazier and poured the water from it into a basin, tempered it with cool, grabbed some reps and soap and moved back to his sleeping form. Carefully she bathed him, removing all of the blood and gore from him, shedding quiet tears as she did so. He would not understand her tears, and would probably think them weak, but they were still shed.



Death among them was a daily occurrence and each time he stepped from the wagons there was a part of her that feared that she would never see him again. If that nugget of fear, that she keeps pushed down deep inside is a weakness, then she has it. This is journey makes almost twenty-eight seasons of snow for her, and in that short life, she has stood by the pyres of both parents, many friends, and two mates that she loved deeply. She knows loss, but that does not mean she must embrace it.



Gently she cleansed him with water and tears. He did rouse enough to ask for water,which she gave him in small sips. She also encouraged him to drink a bit more of the wine, which he did. He tried to reach for her with the injured arm, let out a growl of pain and frustration as he let it fall back to the furs. Giving him another sip of the wine, she sat the cup down and crawled into the furs beside him.



Tonight, their positions were reversed a little. She did not lay in those strong protective arms, head on his chest as they usually slept. Tonight, she slipped her arm beneath his head and he rolled over to lay his head on her breast, and laying the injured arm across her body for support and slept. Pulling the furs up over both of them, she shifted her head from time to time to kiss the top of his head, while her fingers gently rubbed on his shoulder.



This night, in the privacy of their wagon, he allowed himself to be embraced in the protective circle of her arms. In a small way, she was offering him not only protection, but strength to draw from. Just recently she had been told that the most dangerous place on Gor was that distance between a mother, and what she perceived as a threat to her child. That is also true of a Tuchuk woman and the man she loves. Tonight that place was not only dangerous, but it encompassed the entire world. Right now, she would fight a larl to keep this man safe, protected, and to give him the time to heal.



They lay like this for most of the night, him sleeping the sleep of the just, and her unable to sleep, having this almost irrational fear that if she slept, something would happen to him. For ahns, she watched the flickering shadows cast by the candles until they burned down. Finally her eyes closed and she too slept.

To the Victors Go the Spoils, and the Wounds.

She had finally curled up in the furs with the baby to get warm. She did not sleep, she was too tense to sleep or rest. Her mind just would not turn off, it was a whir of images, and none of them good. When she heard the drums, she sat straight up, and fear wrapped it's fist around her heart.



The Ubar was injured. It must be grave for them to be bringing him back from the battle. She put the baby into his cradle, covered him tightly and called for kasra to come sit with him. Restricted to her wagons or not, she had to know what was going on.



Stepping from the wagon, she was just in time to see him fall from Tone, a Turian arrow imbedded deep in his chest, and enough blood from other wounds to turn her stomach. Without even thinking she pushed past the other wounded warriors and their beasts to run to him, and slid to her knees beside, not knowing what to do.


In that moment, a memory hit her, that almost froze her on the spot. The memory of leaning over Loch, in this same way, trying to talk to him as he drew his last breath. She had to draw deep inside her to find the strength to push it away and to concentrate on the present.



As was his way, he thought that all he needed was to rub a little dirt into his wounds, and everything would be fine. It too her and Kaeli both to push the deadly arrow through his body, then Kaeli set to work stitching him up. It was fortunate for him that he passed our, or became semi-conscious, because it took many stitches to repair not only the wound in his chest, but he one to his arm. He was not happy when he came to and found that his arm was splinted, stitched and immobilized. Right now she did not care if he was happy or not, he was going to lie still, take sips of the wine she offered and give his body a chance to calm down and start the healing process. One, with no dirt involved.


More and more injured began to trickle in. Kaeli was busy with Jai, tending to some very grievous wounds that he had. It pained her to see so many injured, but that was the way of battle. Ba'atar passed out again, and she tried to help Kaeli as much as she could. But her help ended up basically being a wrestling match with Sef over a bota of paga. Damnable, stubborn man.


As Ba'atar came to again, she moved back to him with the bota of wine, poured some into a cup to allow him to drink. He wanted to sit, which was probably not the best thing for him to do, but she went ahead and positioned herself behind him, to be his support so that he could hear the reports of his men as they arrived. All of the anger, frustration and doubt are set aside as she turns her focus to making him comfortable.


When the drums began to sound the victory of their men, he even smiled. Reports began to come in along with more injured. The Tuchuk had prevailed, but that did not surprise her. The Sky loves them, remember? The victors returned, each having his own tale to tell of the raid, and each giving credit to the one that fought at his side. It made her proud to watch them. Evidently they had acquitted themselves well against the Turian foes.


Finally, he did feel the need to rest and she lifted to try and support him so that he could walk, in a way that did not look as if she was supporting him. It was going to be a long night.

The Waiting

Her second day of confinement to the wagon, had drug on and on and on. She began to hear talk from those that either rode or walked past her wagon, free and slave alike. They were nearing Turia, and there was to be a raid. Hearing all of this bothered her. From what she was hearing, it was to be soon.



Finally, she had stepped out onto the icy platform of the moving wagon, shivering at how cold it had become. She looked over to Rook, who rode near and told him that she had tea on the brazier inside her wagon, if he was interested in warming up.



The elder oralu drew his kaiila near and stepped onto the platform and into the wagon. She served him the small cups of tea, as she has many times, and began to question him. He said it was no secret and he told her what she wanted to know. Yes, there was to be a raid on Turia this night, in fact, Ba'atar had taken some men out the previous night to scout the city, to test it's outer defenses. And it had not been a quiet venture, for they had left signs they had been there by burning peasant huts and grasses near the place. So yes, there was to be a raid, but the Turians would be waiting for them.



When he finished his tea and was sufficiently warmed, he had stepped out and returned to his kaiila. For a lon time, she just sat here thinking on all of this. Of what it might mean. She had been expecting it. There was nothing that a Tuchuk warrior enjoyed more, than killing a Turian. It was just in their blood. She had seen the results of many raids on the gated city in her lifetime. Some successful, some not quite so much. But it was just a part of life.



It came to her, that if Ba'atar was riding out tonight, to maybe die, that he would come to see her and his sons. She had heated water in the brazier and cleaned herself and the baby up as best she could. She had drawn juneau in to re-braid her hair. All that long day, she waited to hear the pace of Tone drawing closer, ears listening for his boots as they jumped from the beast onto the platform. The anticipation was agonizing.


But, no Ba'atar


When she heard the call to stop the wagons for the night, she thought now. He will come now. She could hear the activity of the preparations for the raid, and had ever stuck her head out into the frigid to watch. There was just such an air of excitement and anticipation, the warriors teasing and joking about who would nourish the grass with the most Turian blood.


But, no Ba'atar


She was standing out on the platform, wrapped in a fur when they gathered and rode away. Her heart truly sank, and the tears she shed froze on her cheeks. She watched as other warriors leaned from their saddles to give what might be final kisses to mates and children.



Ba'atar did not even look in her direction, and she did not even know if he had stopped to see his sons before taking off on a venture that might cost him his life. How many times can one heart break?


After the raiding party left, the camp was quiet. As always, there were plenty of warriors left to guard the herds and the wagons, but there was no banter, no chit-chat. The occasional cry of a child somewhere might be heard, the lowing of the bosk, and occasional bleat from the verr herd.


She did the only thing she could do. She fed and tended to her infant son, and waited as Tuchuk women have waited since the beginning of time. Huddled near the fire in the brazier, rocking her son, she barely looked up to nod when kasra brought her in food and warm milk. She simply waited.


Her heart was so fully of emotions, that she just could not seem to sort them out. Anger, confusion, doubt, frustration, fear, sadness, love.......all of them there so entwined with one another that they became almost a thriving monster, eating away at her heart and soul.


And she waited. Filled with fear, she waited.
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