Chapter 7

Benham

I do not know what tempted me to follow Maeve to the bizele crop this morning nor carry the full basket of fruit to the food stores for her. Perhaps because I would help any of my tribe brother and sisters. Or maybe because it looked heavy and she is so tiny.

Several tribespeople linger around the central fire for the midday meal. I sit farthest from it on a small piece of carved fiku tree while I eat and observe. No one approaches me. Since the attack, more humans have finally joined the tribe for meals and have taken some initiative to help around the village. The elders are teaching some how to cure the hides, mend or make leg and chest coverings, while others help with preparing meals. I hadn't been able to withhold my surprise when a handful of males arrived at the training arena yesterday asking to be taught to fight.They were worse than kits and no one went easy on them. Best to figure out which ones will quit sooner rather than later.

The voices of several human females grow louder which draws my gaze. One is my apprentice, another the healer's, and the third, Maeve. She walks between but slightly behind the other two with her head down. Is her face always that pale? I admit to not paying any attention before. It makes her eyes appear even larger. She has a fur wrapped around her similar to the one last night.

I continue observing them as they help themselves to the leburin stew. Sage nudges Zara with her arm and laughs. My apprentice, in return, raises a single finger which only makes Sage laugh more. Maeve's lips curl into a small smile, but that is her only reaction. The three take their seats and eat while they speak to each other. None appear to have noticed me. My hearing is excellent, but the distance is too great for even me.

Why does Maeve sit on the cold ground between the two women and not on the wooden seat? I lift my gaze and Zara is staring at me.

I am done looking at the females. There is too much work to be done at my forge. I rise and place my vessel with others to be washed and walk away, only imagining that someone is watching.

I get the fire burning and while I wait for it to reach the right temperature, I organize my tools. Almost every one has been passed down from my baba. He taught me everything he knew about weapon making and fighting. There had been no greater warrior, aside from the shefir, than him. With every season that passes I miss him and my nene even more. The pain of their deaths is still almost as fresh as it had been five cold seasons ago.

Light footsteps approach, which means it is Zara. If it were a warrior there would be no sound. She enters the stoned off area that has served as the village forge for countless seasons. With the hill at its back and surrounded on all sides by a wall, it is protected from the winds.

"I'm here," Zara announces with something she calls a wave, as though her presence went unnoticed. "What are we working on today?"

Since I finished the set of daggers Evren asked for, there are no urgent needs. Although when I checked the weapons store yesterday its stock of arrows could be replenished. I gather a long, narrow piece of the metal we get from one of the tribes on a nearby planet for trade and bring it to the stone surface where I work. Zara moves closer and watches as I place one end into the fire to heat.

"So," she draws out the word. "You and Maeve, huh?"

I nearly lose my grip on it and turn to glare down at her. She is entirely unaffected by my look.

"There is no me and Maeve."

Zara's gaze drops to the mating marks on my arms. "I think those say otherwise."

"It does not matter what they say. Only what I say." My attention returns to my work.

She is silent after that. Far too silent. Every turn of the sun, she has been non-stop speaking or asking questions about what I am doing. She has told me of her life back on Earth, and after hearing from Zander how their people are divided, I realize she must come from the side that has much wealth. As the silence lengthens, I finally glance down at her.

"So you're rejecting her?" Zara jerks back as though I have offended her somehow.

"I am rejecting no one." It is Maeve who rejects me.

She tilts her head in that way she always does while her mind is working something out. "Then why haven't you even tried talking to her?"

Ignoring her question, I check the metal's color to test its readiness. "You are here to learn, not speak."

"Learning and speaking aren't mutually exclusive. You should know by now I'm perfectly capable of doing both at the same time. It's one of my many skills. Scratch that, it might be my only skill." Zara chuckles.

Grabbing my tool, I grip the metal stick and turn it to even out the heat. "Do you want to learn?"

"That's why I'm here, isn't it?"

I turn my head. "Then learn."

When she doesn't say anything else, I face the fire again. The end of the stick glows brighter than the flames. I remove it and place it on the stone. With my hammer in hand, I pound the end and keep pounding while turning the stick until a shape forms. I heat it again and pound more.

"You still didn't tell me what you're making," Zara says over the sound of the pounding.

"Arrowheads."

"Oh, cool. How do you make the tip pointy? That thing's flat as a pancake." She gestures to it.

I do not know what a pancake is. "I will heat it and then use a tool to curve each side until they overlap. I keep heating it and curling it until one end is narrow while the other end widens to be placed over the wooden stick that is the arrow. One it cools, I will use another tool to shape the narrow end into the pointy part as you say."

As Zara watches, I heat the ‘pancake' once again until it is the shape I want and then I start bring the edges close until they overlap. More heat and more overlap. It is a long and tedious process, but finally it is curled into the desired shape. I heat it one last time, break it off the long stick, and chisel at the narrow end.

Once it is complete, I hold it up for her."That is how you make an arrowhead."

Zara's eyes widen with excitement. "Can I try?"

I pick up another long metal stick and hand it to her. She glances at me and then back to the metal before approaching the fire. I have given her scraps to practice on over the last few turns of the sun. This is the first time I have offered her a real project. She is careful and thoughtful as she tries to remember the steps I shared. I have to assist many times, but only until she regains her rhythm. It takes until the sun has nearly touched the hilltop before Zara completes an ugly and unusable arrowhead.

She holds it up with pride. "This is the worst arrowhead I've ever seen, but holy shit, I actually made it. I think I know the things I did wrong too, so I can do better next time."

"It looks similar to the first one I ever made when I was a kit. You will improve over time, as I have."

Her face turns the color Zander said indicates shyness. "Thank you."

"We have been at this long enough. I can smell the evening meal from here. Go and eat. I will see you back here after tomorrow's midday meal."

Zara nods and fists her arrowhead. She reaches the entryway of the forge and twists to look back at me. "Maeve has been through a lot of shit. Bad shit. She'd be pissed if she knew I said anything, but be patient with her. Most of all, be kind to her. She deserves a decent guy. One who carries a heavy basket full of fruit for her, even if she was unsettled when she found it missing and didn't know who'd done it."

She takes off before I can reply. Not that my tongue can form words anyway. What kind of ‘bad shit' has my mate been through? And I had unsettled her? That had never been my intention. Quickly, I douse the flames of the forge and put away my tools. Once I am sure there are no embers left, I make my way to my own tent to wash up.

I am at the central fire before any of the shefira's tribe sisters. I take my food to my regular seat while I wait for them to arrive. More tribespeople come, but not the one I am waiting for. The evening meal is when everyone gathers for a meal and conversation. It is also when Zander usually addresses any issues that arise. I am almost finished eating when I spot them. As usual, the shefira and Remi lead. Their mates can't be far behind. Zara and Sage are next. Maeve trails all of them, but I am happy to see Zedam's new mate walking beside her.

The females get in the short line that has formed to be served their meal. They have maneuvered in a way that puts Maeve in the center. Like they are her protectors. I rise from my seat and head toward them. The closer I get to Maeve the more my skin tingles and grows warm where my mating marks are. My tail thrashes and I work to keep it still.

Remi turns to speak to one of her tribe sisters and her gaze shifts to me. She nudges the shefira next to her and London whirls halfway around. Almost as one, the other four turn their attention my way, but my eyes remain on Maeve. She takes a tiny step in London's direction. Barely big enough to notice, but I do. I notice everything. Her rapid breathing. That flare of…unease in her eyes before she glances elsewhere and tucks her head.

I stop far enough away to hopefully ease any further nervousness at my presence. While tradition says my first greeting should be to the shefira, it is my mate who is the most important female at the moment. Even though she will not meet my eyes, I speak to her anyway.

"I took your basket to the food stores. I merely wanted to assist. My apologies, Maeve, that I did not let you know and if I caused you any worry. It was not my intent." I lay my fist over my heart, bow my head, and walk away.

Whispers meet my ears and stares follow my retreat, but I continue away from the central fire until I reach my tent. I grab the torch from outside and take it in with me. Once it is mounted in the ground, I kneel in front of the chest that contains my nene's and baba's few remaining belongings. There is a round stone in which I carved—poorly—an image of a ketri when I was only a kit. Nene said it was her most prized possession. I set it to the side and continue withdrawing items until I reach the bottom and find what I am searching for.

I take out the leather wrapped item and carefully unfold it. Lying in my hand is a beautiful chest covering with tiny crystals that reflect the firelight and make them sparkle like the stars in the sky. Along with it is a leg covering with the same crystals sewn along the bottom. It had been my nene's. She had it specially made after she and baba became mates. They had their own private mating ceremony and this was what she wore.

Although my nene was small for a Tavikhi, she was still much taller than my mate. Yet I picture Maeve wearing this for our own ceremony. She would look beautiful in it. Except I doubt she will ever want to.