8. Chapter 8

The hunt proved successful. Game was rich in this area, but it would grow scarcer once we reached the Grednok Mountains, an area teeming with predators.

We returned carrying three dryckens—deerlike animals.

The camp had taken on form during our absence. The human warriors had put up tents and were sitting sheltered within their confines.

As ordered, my warriors had set up tents. Several for us and several for the gallies.

The gallies sat in separated groups of three and four, all intently watching three gallies surrounding three of my males by the hotrock—stove.

Among the females by the hotrock was the blonde who had been bitten by the calamant. But it was the black-haired beauty I had noticed before who was shrilly demanding Khar-Del, our cook, to feed her and her friends.

Khar-Del tried his best to explain to her that the food he was preparing wasn't edible yet, not until he mixed it with the meat we brought back. But of course, she didn't understand.

I blamed myself for not insisting that my males learn English before we departed. However, once my plan had come together, I didn't want to waste any more time or risk interference with either the Gathering of the Khadahrs or the temple if they found out.

Bzun-Lhan would undoubtedly inform both, but that couldn't be helped. I was still ahead of him. My plan was to have the human gallies mated and hopefully with child before the first delegation of khadahrs and priests arrived in Farruk. That would convince my fellow khadahrs more than words that my plan was the only way forward for our future.

The Vandruk were as stubborn as they were strong; traditions mattered. Even now, the Gathering of the Khadahrs was considering planning the very first mating ceremony to take place in the Rodruk Mountains, at the exact place where tragedy had struck. Not in the same cave, of course, but close enough that their ghosts would watch and judge us.

I had made my opposition known to this idea, but with every passing year more khadahrs became increasingly desperate to see their bloodline continue. Bzun-Lhan had even promised to bring eligible gallies to the ceremony. When I voiced the question I was sure had to be on everyone's mind—where and how Bzun-Lhan would find these gallies—Bzun-Lhan had raised his head, staring heavenward, the very picture of devout High Priest. Vorag will provide , had been his words, and nobody had questioned him. After all, he was the male who had been chosen to speak to the gods.

I was about to change everything. It would put an end to our anguish but also to our traditions. I was aware that, by doing so, I was undermining the power of the High Priest, but I was ready to take on Bzun-Lhan.

Whether we liked it or not, the humans had made contact with us. Their portal was open. Sa, we could station warriors there and kill any of them who came uninvited, but I feared in the end, we would lose. The other khadahrs didn't understand the power of the guns , as the humans called their demonic weapons. Those guns would kill us faster than a volley of arrows. That they disintegrated here was a stroke of luck for us, but I feared our luck wouldn't hold. Humans were an industrious, inventive species and much more advanced than us. Sooner or later, they would come up with another weapon that would kill our warriors.

Even if all the clans united—and that was a big if—our numbers would pale compared to the humans.

It had been argued that we should send warriors through the portal and attack the humans. It was still a good plan, one I had mulled over. Send a group of warriors to destroy the portal on their side. It would be a suicide mission, but I would have volunteered had I not met Matt and realized that this portal was only the beginning. Sending brave warriors might halt the humans for a while, but they could easily build another and another. One of our advantages was that we knew the portal's location, and I wasn't about to give that up.

Nek, the portal, for now, was a one-way bridge for the humans, not us. Sa, we could and would kill anybody coming through, but soon the humans would enter Vandruk with a weapon that wouldn't disintegrate. I dreaded that day because it would end up in a bloodbath. Many Vandruk warriors would fall. It wasn't a matter of if , only when . We would be far better off making friends and allying ourselves with them.

This was why the gallies were here. Once we mated with their kind, our species would be bound forever. I reminded myself of that goal when I indicated that my warriors take care of the meat and stepped over to where the angry, black-haired female was still berating a very distressed-looking Khar-Del.

"What is the meaning of this?" I demanded.

"The meaning of this?" The female turned, snarling to me, before recognition reflected in her eyes, and she forced a smile to her lips. "The meaning is we are hungry. Are you intending to starve us? Come to think of it: what are your intentions for us?"

Her waterfall of words gave me pause, and I assessed her a little bit closer. So far, I had dismissed her as a simpleton who only cared about showing off her body, but right then, she was asserting herself for her friends as a khadahrshi would.

"What is your name?" I folded my arms over my chest, trying to look as intimidating as possible to test her.

"Sandra," she replied, stretching her chin forward .

"Sandra," I repeated her strange name. I liked Gwyn better; it was easier to pronounce. "I commend your efforts to feed your friends. Be assured that we will provide you with the nourishment you need, soon. That however"—I indicated the leaves and vegetables on Khar-Del's hotstone—"is not for consumption, yet. We need to cook the poison out first."

"Poison?" Sandra echoed, stepping back, giving the leaves and bulbs she had desired moments ago a contemptuous glare.

"Trust me, within a span you will eat, sa?" I smiled benevolently at her.

"Sa." She smiled back, opening her lips just a bit.

"Go rest with your friends. We will call you when the food is ready."

"Thank you, Khadahr." She fluttered her long eyelashes at me. She was beautiful.

I turned to see how far my warriors had gotten on gutting and cutting the drycken, when Gwyn approached me.

"Not so fast." She raised her hand to stop me.

"Gwyn?" I acknowledged her.

"We've walked all day. We haven't been given any water or food. We—"

I raised my hand to interrupt her. "Food will be ready soon, along with water."

"Well, that's very nice of you, but as I was trying to say we need water more than once a day. Food, too."

I drew my brows together. "How often do you humans eat? "

"Three, sometimes four times a day," she replied, not as sharp as before. "Why? How often do you eat?"

"Every evening," I told her. I had never given the nourishment of humans much thought, but come to think of it, I had seen Matt eat more often than us.

"Alright." She nodded as if this made perfect sense to her. "We need to eat more often, especially when we are exerting ourselves like this. At least breakfast and dinner with a snack in between."

"Breakfast and dinner? Snack?" I stared at her uncomprehendingly. These weren't words Matt had taught me, or I had never asked for them. Matt didn't participate in our evening feasts. He and I had struck up some sort of reluctant friendship, but he hadn't tried to make friends with anybody else, nor had my people with him. He preferred to stay in his room, and I had instructed the servants to bring him anything he needed or requested, which I now realized must have been more food. Mostly, he busied himself learning our language and reading our antiquated scrolls. Devoured them was probably a better word.

"Breakfast we eat in the morning and dinner in the evening," Gwyn informed me. "A snack is something light to eat in between, like some fruit or… or jerky."

"I will give orders for it to be done," I said, about to leave.

But she wasn't done. "We also need water. A lot more water."

"My warriors carry water. All you have to do is ask."

Surprisingly, she flared at my words. "And how would we know to ask ? You haven't told us a word about what you expect from us other than that we're going on a long hike. "

Communication. I nodded. Sa, communication was important to these humans. "I will speak to your people after dinner," I promised.

"Good," she said, turning, leaving me to stare after her. I didn't know if she knew this, but having the last word for our people was part of our hierarchy order, and it always belonged to the khadahr.

Her words disturbed me. I realized I hadn't communicated why I had asked for the gallies in the first place, but if they didn't know why they were here, why had they come? What did they think they were here for? Males and gallies bonded; that was the law of nature, and the males would protect and cherish their gallies with their lives. It had never occurred to me that anybody could have taken my request in any different way than that.

What if they don't want to be mated ?

That was an even stranger notion. One I would have to ponder thoroughly, but first I supposed I needed to talk to them and wait for their reaction.