Chapter 6

6

- Anter’az -

Alba’s eyes close the moment her head hits the cover of my bed, and she goes quiet.

I kneel beside her and make sure she’s breathing and that her fast heartbeat continues as before.

Then I stand back up and scratch my chin. “Such a strange experience.”

It’s likely that most of her behavior after she was attacked by the caged creatures came from the venoms in her blood. I’m sure that’s how those stings work on alien women, although they work completely differently on men. But I didn’t feel as if she had taken leave of her senses.

“You seemed perfectly alert, just… more womanly,” I mutter softly to Alba. “More eager. I could not resist.”

Perhaps I should have refused Worshipping her. But I’m almost certain that she enjoyed it. And as a healer, nothing about the body can be unfamiliar to me. When offered such a chance to see if Worship works, and to confirm that a woman’s body is indeed as wonderful as we were told, only a madman would have declined.

I turn and walk into the main cave. What’s done is done, and now she’s in deep sleep.

The curtain covering the opening moves slightly, and I think I hear breathing. “Who’s there?”

“It’s Pontr’az,” a muffled voice says. “And Uper’ox. Are you… are you awake, Anter’az?”

I sigh. I’m not in the mood for injured tribesmen. All I want is to sit in the chair and relive the experience I just had, to set it in my mind and relish in it. Her taste is still on my lips, and what a taste it is!

“All right,” I grunt. “Come in.”

Pontr’az carefully pulls the hanging aside and pokes his head in, looking around. “Is she still here?”

“She’s in the other room,” I grunt. “And you’re not allowed to see her. Chief’s orders.”

“That’s why I ask,” he says. “We won’t risk being close to her. Uper’ox, come on in.”

The second man comes in, his hands bloody. “Sorry, Anter’az. Probably not much you can do.”

They reek of frit, and I’m pretty sure this has been yet another gathering around the totem pole that has gone wrong.

“I’ll be the judge of that. Your hand, is it?”

He opens his hand, revealing the severed tip of his pinky finger. “Yes.”

I sigh. “Bad news, tribesman. Reattaching limbs is not part of my skills. I always recommend not cutting them off in the first place. What happened?”

“The guests… we started talking to them about women and how they should all be killed. But some of the Borok men taunted us, saying our weakness comes from being too scared of Woman Alba. We laughed at first, but it went on, and then… well, I got mad and drew my sword.”

I sigh and rub my eyes. “You drew your sword at a guest in our village? During a friendly meal?”

“You don’t insult a warrior in his own village!” Uper’ox hisses. “Much less a whole tribe!”

Pontr’ax puts his hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Subor’ox drew his, to protect our guests. And he was faster with his blade than our belligerent friend here. Or rather, he was less drunk.”

“Thank the Ancestors for Subor’ox,” I grunt. “If you had injured a Borok or a Tretter man, I don’t dare think what could have resulted.”

Uper’ox gazes sadly at the last knuckle of his finger, fingernail and all, now lying bloody in the palm of his hand. “I wish that woman had never come to our village.”

“Don’t blame that small alien female for your own drunkenness!” I hiss, wanting to roar but conscious that Alba sleeps in the other room. “You drew a sword on a guest! Alba certainly didn’t force you to do that. She wasn’t even there!”

“I know,” Uper’ox says, his bluster gone. “Do you at least have something for the pain?”

“I wish you all the pain that cut can give you,” I growl. “But let’s at least see what we can do to save the rest of the hand. Sit down.” I point at the chair where Alba was just sitting. At the same moment I spot her flimsy garments on the ground under it.

Uper’ox doesn’t notice. “At least it was the least important finger. What happened to your cages, Anter’az? Did those creatures finally escape?”

Finding the right jar, I open it and scoop out some of the sticky cream inside. “Some did, and some are still loose in here. Watch where you put your feet, tribesmen. Show me what remains of your finger.”

He holds up the stump of his pinky. “I am grateful for your help, tribesman. I may not always show it, but— owww! ”

“Hold still!” I smear the substance onto his bloody stump, making sure to cover it all. “This could prevent your wound from festering. But there’s no certainty here. Come back in a few days and show it to me.”

“Yes, Anter’az,” Uper’ox mutters. “What should I do with the piece that was cut off?”

“Go back to the party,” I tell him as I close the jar. “Go to the fire. Call our guests over, as well as Subor’ox. Put your severed finger on the fire and present it as a sacrifice to the Ancestors, praying for ever-lasting friendship between the Krast tribe and the Borok and Tretter tribes. Do it sincerely, Uper’ox. And perhaps something good can come of this. The outtribers will understand your gesture, and they will never forget it.”

He brightens the tiniest bit as he gets to his feet. “Good idea, Anter’az! I shall do as you say. Oh, what’s that?” He bends down and picks up the small garment that Alba wore around her hips. “A small rag?”

I snatch it from his fingers. “A healer may own items that are mysterious to others! Now get going. I’ve had a long day.”

They finally leave, and I pull the heavy curtain closed again. Starting to tidy up the cages, I find that only six of the creatures have escaped. Most of them are back in their open cages, nibbling on their food.

I stack them back up and ponder securing them with ropes. Perhaps tomorrow.

Tiptoeing into the other cave, I check that Alba is still sleeping peacefully. Then I stand there for a long time, watching over her, listening to her breathing and enjoying the new smell in the room.

“Alba,” I whisper as I place the impossibly small and delicate garment at her feet on the bed and carefully put a light blanket to cover her up to the waist. “My cave smells of Alba.”

I wish the men hadn’t started cutting their fingers off. I’m afraid that could be another example of how the women make us weak.

“But perhaps it isn’t,” I whisper to Alba’s closed eyes and her small mouth, half-open. “You weren’t there. You couldn’t possibly have affected those drunken warriors.”

Or could she?

I can’t make sense of it. Not yet. But I know what I want to find, when all is said and done. It would be terrible if I found that women are agents of Darkness.

Going back to my main cave, I extinguish the torches and sit down in the chair, leaning back. The fire crackles, the creatures move softly around in their cages, and I swear I can still smell Alba’s extraordinary sex in the air.

My crotch stays hard and insistent, but there’s nothing that can be done about that. Oh, the taste of her, and the sounds she made…

No, I won't be able to sleep. But I should do something useful while I'm awake, not just relive the experience again and again.

Checking that Alba is safe and sleeping soundly, I walk out in the cool night air and stand at a distance, hearing my drunken tribesmen talk and laugh with the guests.

They will probably hear what I'll do, but they'll be too drunk to care.

I walk into the forge, load up the charcoal, and set it on fire. We Krast know how to shape iron.

- - -

A s soon as the sun rises, I check that Alba is still asleep in my bed, then go to find breakfast for her.

By the common table I meet young Tren’ax.

“Good man, up early,” I praise him. “Or are you up still?”

The boy yawns. “Up at sunrise, the chiefs said. But Tarat'ex let me leave the table at sunset last night.”

I give him a tight smile, feeling strong and benevolent after the experience with Alba last night. “That is as it should be. There’s no point in exhausting you completely every day. I shall ask him to lighten your burden today. I’m sure you’ve learned your lesson.”

He gets up on the table, pours a bucket of water on it, and starts to scrub it with a stiff-bristled mop. “Yes, Anter’az. Is the woman still here?”

“In my cave,” I tell him with satisfaction. “Asleep, safe and sound.”

“So they need sleep, too. Is that the same woman that… that we saw before?”

“It’s the same one,” I confirm, digging embers from the ashes in the fire ring and starting a new fire for Tren’ax to start cooking breakfast on. “Woman Alba. But don’t think more about her, Tren’ax. Push her out of your mind. Only I am allowed to be around her, and I’m under orders to keep her away from everyone else.”

“Yes, Anter’az,” the boy says mechanically. “They make us weak.”

I stoke the fire and step aside when more boys arrive to start cooking for the tribe. “Perhaps. But I want to find out if it’s really true.”

“I hope it isn’t true,” the boy says, sending me a shy glance. “She was brave.”

My mind brightens further from having even one member of my tribe who shares my sentiments about Alba. Gently cuffing Tren’ax’s thin shoulder, I turn to get some food out of the stores. “I agree, tribesman.”

Back in my cave, I stoke my own fire to prepare a meal of the finest meats and fruits I could find in our common stores. I see no reason to save it for some other occasion. Alba being in my cave is by far the most remarkable thing that’s happened in this village.

The curtain moves, and she comes into my main cave. She’s wound the blanket around her and walks with tiny steps. Her glance is as shy as Tren’ax’s. “Good morning.”

“Good morning, Alba. Breakfast will soon be ready.”

She stands in the middle of the cave and peers suspiciously at the cages. “Is it safe?”

“I’ve made sure none of my creatures can escape,” I tell her. “Except those who have already fled, but they are back in the jungle now. Your garment is right there.” I nod towards the peg where I’ve hung the main part of her clothing.

“My dress,” she says and gets it off the peg. “Thank you. Anter’az, I sorry about last night. I not know what I was doing. It was… I…”

I stiffen as a coldness goes through me. Is she saying that she truly didn’t like what happened? That I acted… dishonorably when I Worshipped her? “Yes?”

“I really liked it! But hope you didn’t feel that I force you to… you know…” She gestures vaguely in the direction of the chair.

I laugh from relief. “How could you force me to do anything in my own cave? No, what happened was wonderful beyond anything I have ever wished for. How are you feeling? You were bitten in two places, at least.”

“Feel good. I’ll be back,” Alba says and goes behind the curtain again. Soon after, she comes back, wearing her dress and probably her other two garments under it. “The bites are not bad now. I think you got the venom out of them.”

“I’d be happy to check,” I tell her.

She gives me a look that makes need harden. “Maybe later. We want to be very sure that those bites are healing.”

“Yes,” I agree, but it comes out as a hoarse croak. Could it be that she might want the same again? ‘Later’, she said. Or maybe she just wants the bites checked, and only that. I suppose I’ll find out.

She goes over to the other end of the cave, peering at the black curtain that separates this cave from the special one. “What is?—”

“Don’t touch that!” I snap.

Alba jerks at the tone in my voice. “Sorry! I just thought…”

“It’s all right,” I tell her in a milder voice. “It’s just that the curtain is hard to get to hang right. Come here and sit down. Your breakfast will soon be ready.”

Alba turns and looks outside. “Are my friends back inside village?”

I feel a small sting. Why does she want her friends? Am I not enough? “I don’t know.”

She stretches and yawns. “I can check later. I doubt they want to rise early after their party last night.”

I pick out the best pieces of the breakfast I’ve prepared, put them on a green leaf, and hand them to Alba. “I hope this is to your liking.”

She accepts it and sits down in the chair. “May I? It smells really good.” She takes a piece and chews it without hesitation. “Oh, it tastes even better than it smells!”

“Good,” I grunt, so happy I almost smile. She likes the food!

She chews and gazes at my walls of cages. “Anter’az, why do you have those?”

“The creatures? I want to find out if they are useful.”

“How can they be useful? They just venomous and unfriendly.”

I walk over to a cage and open it, take out the creature inside, and put it flat in my palm. “This is a butinat. It has many legs and these things.” I flick a long, black antenna and make it vibrate, making a bright buzzing. “They make good needles when cut off and sharpened. The butinats also have a thick shell.” I knock on the carapace with one fingernail. “I think they have those because most other Smalls can’t bite through it. And the butinat is too small for Bigs to want to eat it.” I reach for a jar and give it to Alba. “Open that.”

She looks at the jar with suspicion. “Something will jump out on me?”

“No.”

Keeping the jar on straight arms, she gingerly takes out the wide cork, turning her face away and scrunching her eyes up as she does so. Nothing happens, so she looks into the jar. “Oh. It’s all black.”

“Ground-up butinat shell,” I tell her. “When one of my tribesmen has a stomach problem, I tell him to put some of this in water and drink it. It tastes terrible, but usually the problem goes away after that. Now I want to know if the butinat eggs can be used for something, too. This one hasn’t laid eggs yet, but I think it soon will.”

Alba finishes the plate. “Oh. You use the creatures for something.”

I nod at the jars and pots on my shelves. “About half of those are filled with things I get from these Tinies.” Replacing the butinat in its cage, I open another and take out a hekasit.

Alba takes a step backward. “That the one that bit me.”

“It likely is,” I agree and tease the creature’s snapping claw with a piece of straw. “The venom is not very strong, but it can make us think strange things. Or very nice things.” I glance down at Alba.

She gives me a pale smile. “Can you put it back? I’m scared.”

“Soon,” I promise. “I think the venom of the hekasit can be used in other ways. I sometimes put it on the sores of men who have gotten injured, and I hope it will prevent them from festering.”

“Do it work?” she asks.

“I don’t know yet. I’ve only tried it on two men, and it’s too soon to tell.” Carefully avoiding its stinger, I put the hekasit back in its cage. “But if it works, it will be good for the tribe! Sometimes I have to cut off limbs because some wound festers and starts to smell. The meat rots, on the living men! It’s terrible to see. We lose warriors and friends that way. But what if the venom of some of these Tinies can stop that from happening? You see, Alba? I must try all of them and keep careful track of it all! That’s why I have these creatures here. When one doesn’t work, I bring in another. There are very many Tinies in the jungle. But I will try them all! On all the illnesses and injuries my tribesmen bring to me. And when I have tried them, I will mix their venom and the other fluids and powders they make and try the mix.” I send a glance to the black curtain. “Perhaps that will be even more potent! Perhaps I will be able to cure… everything!”