9. Chapter 9

The smell of cooking meat made me salivate and my stomach cramp. At least the water Khadahr's warriors were handing out alleviated some of the worst of it.

It was strange drinking from their leathery pouches, and I decided it was better to not know what they were made from. I greedily drank down the not cold, but delicious-tasting water.

"Thank you." I smiled at the warrior who had handed me his pouch and pretended not to see how Khadahr shared his with Sandra. Whatever. So not my concern.

The warrior grunted something in reply, along with a smile that brightened his serious countenance and turned him undoubtedly handsome. All the males in Khadahr's group were drop-dead gorgeous. Coincidence, or did all barbarians look like this? That would be some gene pool, I mused .

Even the scientist group got up to drink. A small argument broke out when the warrior they had approached refused. Khadahr got involved, and the scientists were able to drink their fill as well, but the incident left me a bit shaken. We were at the barbarians' mercy in more ways than I was comfortable with. They would decide when we ate or drank; that was giving them way too much power over us as far as I was concerned.

I decided I needed to do something about this, and the first step would be to find out where the barbarians got their water from. However, I got sidetracked when a call went out that dinner was about to be served. I lined up with the others, very aware of our weakness of not being able to provide for ourselves. This wouldn't do. For tonight, though, I didn't see a choice. I accepted a wooden bowl filled with hot cooked meat and vegetables. I looked around but didn't see any utensils, so I resigned myself to eating it with my fingers.

First, I blew on the steaming contents.

Then, my eyes searched for Khadahr, since he seemed to be the only one speaking our language. When I saw him, I made my way over.

"Hey." I stepped up next to him.

"Hey," he greeted back, slipping a piece of something into his mouth.

"What is this?" I pointed with my finger at the same kind of plant on my plate and gingerly probed it before I deemed it cooled down enough not to burn my digits or mouth.

"Agrogar," he said .

"Which one is it?" I asked, pointing at the dense vegetation around us.

His unnerving snakelike eyes moved up and down my body as if assessing me anew. He balanced his wooden bowl on one hand and bent over to pull one of the shorter, treelike plants from the dirt. A bulb came out.

"Agrogar."

"Agrogar," I repeated.

"It has to be cooked for a fingerbreadth before it's edible," he warned.

"Okay. And this?" I fished out something that looked like burned grass but tasted like a green bean.

"Is that it?" I nudged my foot against one of the taller grass stems.

"Pulmit, sa." He nodded.

I plopped a piece of meat in my mouth and instantly closed my eyes. I thought I must have died and gone to heaven. I had only eaten filet mignon once in my life, but I had been so impressed that I had never forgotten the tender flavor of it. Whatever this meat was tasted even better with only a slight hint of game to it.

"You like our food?" Khadahr asked.

"It's very good." I nodded, stuffing another piece of meat in my mouth.

From all around me, groans and moans indicated that I wasn't the only one enjoying my meal, and I didn't think it was only because we were starved .

Another commotion broke out by the cooking fire. With a grim expression, Khadahr handed me his plate, and I followed curiously to see what was happening now.

Some of the guards stood by the fire, undoubtedly lured by the smell of food. Sandra was having a standoff with one of them, the same one who hadn't been willing to share his food with her.

"What are you willing to trade for it?" Sandra taunted.

"You have no say in this, alien bait," the guard snarled.

"What is going on here?" Khadahr moved between Sandra and the guard.

"These men are trying to take our food," Sandra huffed.

Khadahr assessed Sandra speculatively before he turned to the guard. "You are a male; if you want to eat, you go hunt your own meat."

"What? Now hold on—"

Khadahr waved his arm aggressively. "You were not invited; the gallies were, and so were those four." He gestured toward the group of scientists, sitting by their own fire with their portion. "You came by your own bidding. You will fend for yourselves."

"Now, let's all calm down." Commander Willis stepped forward. "Let's be reasonable here. Seems to me your men brought enough meat back for all of us."

"They wouldn't share with us earlier." Sandra stood her ground, albeit a bit petulantly. Her brown eyes flitted between Khadahr and the guards as if she hadn't quite made up her mind about which side she was on or who would take better care of her. That notion turned my stomach in disgust .

"And you didn't do a damn thing about it." She raised her finger and pointed it at Commander Willis.

"You didn't feed your gallies?" Khadahr seemed taken aback.

"Neither did you, barbarian," the commander snarled.

"That was due to lack of knowledge," I interfered. "What your men did was just malicious."

Khadahr crossed his arms over his chest. His biceps bulged, making his curious honeycomb-shaped scars stand out. My fingers burned to touch them, to find out what they would feel like, but I stopped myself. I didn't think this kind of intimate gesture would go over very well, especially not right now.

"You're the one who invited these aliens; aren't you?" the commander's wrath turned to me.

"Go back to your side of the camp, or go home. I don't care which, but leave," Khadahr asserted, looking down at the commander.

"We don't need your leftovers," the commander said, pulling the other guards with him. "Food or otherwise," he added, giving Sandra and me a disdainful once-over.

"Good riddance," Sandra called after them.

I held out Khadahr's bowl for him, and he took it with a small frown before he moved away from Sandra and me.

Sandra stared at me as if I was dirt under her nails. "Do you always have to stick your nose into everything?"

A few retorts lay on the tip of my tongue, but before I could decide on which one to use, Khadahr stepped into the middle of our camp. "I promised to shed light on why you are here tonight. "

A hush fell over the camp. Even the guards, who had put their tents up a little distance away, turned their heads in Khadahr's direction. "I already told you that I will take one of you as my mate, and the others are to be mated to some of my warriors."

"What do you exactly mean by mate ?" I called out.

Sandra huffed and rolled her eyes next to me. "Do you need the birds and the bees explained to you, Perez?"

I ignored her and stared at Khadahr. "In our language, this has two meanings," I added.

"My apologies, I should have thought of that." Khadahr inclined his head toward me before he swiveled back to the rest of the group. "You will be mated, as in married. You will become the mate of an esteemed warrior. You will be cherished and treasured and bear him children," he clarified.

A small rumble moved through the group of women while subdued snickers came from guards. The word alien bait was repeated and elicited louder laughter.

The scientists stuck to their own clique, not paying much attention to Khadahr, as if this didn't affect them, which I supposed it didn't. They were here to work, not to become a match like us. Like me , I reminded myself.

My eyes returned to Khadahr, who stood so proud and secure. I wished I had half of his confidence. I swallowed when I remembered he, too, would seek a bride among us. I glanced over to the other barbarians, who stood in pairs or groups, listening but not understanding what Khadahr said .

They were handsome, all proud, muscled men—none of them like Khadahr, though.

"Since you all came, I assume none of you are opposed to this arrangement?" Khadahr interrupted my thoughts, bringing me back to the present.

Slowly, heads shook. Nineteen of them, well twenty, as I caught mine moving from side to side, in sync with the others.

"Good." Khadahr didn't smile but relaxed slightly. "The journey will take us five sunrises. I suggest we use this time to get to know one another. When we arrive in Farruk, a great feast and a contest will be held, as is custom before a mating ritual. The winners will get to pick their females."

"And us? Don't we get any say in this?" My voice rang out loud and a bit hoarse.

"You will have the right to decline three, but then you will be mated to the fourth or returned to the humans," Khadahr answered.

"Won't your women object to this?" Elsie called out, looking nervous as hell, but Sandra approvingly patted her arm. Good little puppet , I thought with a derisive sneer. Honestly, though, I was just as curious as the others to hear Khadahr's answer as a new hush fell over our assembled lot.

We were all staring at him so intently that it was hard to miss how his jaw set and his expression turned from unsmiling to dark brooding, hostile even. "Your people have seen to it that they will not. "

With those ominous words, he turned his back and marched out into the night until darkness swallowed him.