Chapter 5
Five
A fter Rath left, I curled in on myself a little, circling my arms around my legs. The village center was busy, people moving about and talking with one another. None of them paid us much mind. A few smiled and nodded politely at Zoya, but they didn’t come to talk to her. She sat beside me with a patient smile, her legs curled under her and her posture relaxed.
“So, how have language lessons been going?”
When I shot her a questioning look, she lifted a shoulder. “We all went through the same thing. Usually, you get a week before you’re introduced to the clan so you’re more comfortable, but Rath is the best hunter and they want to throw a feast soon. One of the women just had a baby. It’s something to celebrate.”
Curiosity loosened my tongue a little. “Everyone? Even male tributes?”
She pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Well, I’d assume so, but you’re the first, so I can’t really answer if there would be any differences.”
My stomach sank. “Th-The first? W-Why?”
She lifted a shoulder. “I think the original agreement said women, but you’d have to ask one of the elders about that.”
“A-Are they going to send me back?” The idea of that was more terrifying than staying here. I knew what waited for me if I went back. I had nowhere else to go.
Startled, Zoya waved her hands. “No, no! You’re not being sent back. I’m pretty sure Rath would gut someone if they tried. No, I was just saying that since the original agreement said women, towns never really deviated from that. You’re the first. But since there are a few men here who prefer other men, they aren’t opposed to it. Most of them aren’t ready to settle down, though.” She wrinkled her nose a little. “I think you got lucky with Rath. He’s the calm one. His brother, Godr, can’t sit still for anything. There’s a reason he trains the horses. He’s the one who can keep up with them.”
“I thought his brother was Verus?” Unless he had more than one. We hadn’t gotten around to discussing family yet.
“Yes and no,” she said, tipping her hand back and forth. “The men of the clan call each other clan brothers. They see their clan as their family. But Godr is his blood brother. They have the same parents.”
She took some time explaining clan hierarchy to me. It was easier to follow than the hierarchy of my home town. The clan leader made all the big decisions. Those who proved themselves as the best in their specific areas, like Rath as a hunter, led those under them and reported to the clan leader with questions or reports. A vast majority were soldiers of a sort, protecting the clan from rival clans or towns who tried to oppose them. The rest took jobs to support the clan. Hunters, farmers, clothes makers. None was seen as more important than the other, and they were all on pretty equal footing. It was fascinating to think about, and I found myself hanging on Zoya’s every word as she explained it all.
“Back when I lived in town, they always saw the soldiers above everyone else, but that made no sense to me. The soldiers wouldn’t be able to do their jobs without the clothiers or the blacksmiths or the cooks. Just like those people wouldn’t be able to do their jobs without the hunters and gatherers. I love the way things work here. They all rely on each other, so they are all equal. Except maybe the women.”
My brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”
She sighed, pressing her lips together. “Well, it’s weird, but clans like these somehow only produce baby boys. There has never been a recorded girl born to a clan member. That’s why they need to go to town for tributes. They can’t sustain their lifestyle without new members and they can’t have kids without females. Since the continuation of the clan is so important, they see tributes as a place of honor. A man can’t sit around in the clan and do nothing, but a tribute can, especially if she’s pregnant. While we aren’t really in a place of power, we’re treated with great respect and if someone insulted us, it is treated almost like a crime. Not that it happens that often, like I said, they see tributes as honorable, but it happens sometimes.”
I sank in on myself a little. “Should… Should I be working? Rath never said anything. I’m not good at a lot. I can try…”
She shook her head, putting her hand on my arm to soothe me. “Relax. Just because you’re the first male tribute doesn’t change your title. You might not produce babies, but you do provide comfort and companionship to our strongest hunter. If you want to work, we can ask around and find you something to do, but right now your job is to learn the language, how the clan works, and decide if you want to stay with your protector.”
My brows snapped together. “I have a choice?”
“Of course you do,” she assured me. “They don’t force people into relationships. It can honestly take a while for tributes to find someone they’re comfortable with. The first people they’re assigned to are their protectors, who teach them the ways of the clan so they can understand better that they are safe here. Then they are introduced to the clan proper. If they choose not to stay with their protector, they can choose whoever they want. Some even leave to other clans to see if there are better prospects out there.”
It was nice to hear that they didn’t force people. Honestly, most of the conversation was helpful. But it still felt like it didn't apply to me. I wasn’t a woman. I couldn’t provide babies. I’d done nothing but cause trouble and restless nights for Rath. What did they want with me?
After giving me a better idea of how things worked, Zoya gave me a crash course in the language. She taught me how to ask for things, important words like clan leader and healer, how to get help if someone was hurt. She was firmer than Rath, forcing me to use full sentences, and she invited a few other women over to join us and demanded they only speak in the barbarian language to better expose me to it. Whenever I looked confused, she translated, but mostly she encouraged me to listen and follow along as best I could.
Rath came back before supper, a large unfamiliar animal tied to his horse’s back. Those who’d gone with him had smaller kills, but no one seemed to care one way or another. They provided for the clan. That was what was important. After handing off the animal to the cooks and his horse to the handlers, he made a beeline for me. My heartbeat stuttered a little at the intense look on his face. I worried for a moment that he was angry at me for some reason. Maybe he expected me to find something to do while he was gone. All of Zoya’s reassurances fled from my mind, and I bit back a whimper when he stopped in front of me.
“Korvash,” he called, kneeling in front of me.
He reached for me, but Zoya stopped him with a harsh, “No.” It made him freeze, and he looked surprised, but she narrowed her eyes and pointed at his hands, saying something I didn’t quite catch. Rath withdrew his hands with a frown and stood again. As terrifying as I found him, the idea of him leaving was even worse and I sat a little straighter when he took a step back.
“W-Wait, I didn’t mean–”
Rath froze again and a pained look flashed across his face. He looked conflicted, though I didn’t understand why. I didn’t understand anything that was happening. I just didn't want him to go.
“Finn,” Zoya called, her voice gentling a little. “I told him to go wash first. He’s got blood on his hands from the hunt.”
Oh. My gaze dropped to his hands, which were stained red. She stopped him from reaching for me because he would’ve probably gotten it on my face had he done what it looked like he’d intended.
“I-I–” I didn’t know what to say. I stopped him from leaving, not realizing that he wasn’t tossing me aside like my family had, and I didn't have enough grasp of the language to take it back. My cheeks burned and I dropped my gaze, wishing I could crawl under a rock somewhere. First I was terrified of him, now I was clingy. I really was pathetic.
Rath kneeled again in front of me. He kept his hands to himself, instead dipping his head to rest our foreheads together. It was an affectionate gesture and it made my heart burst into a gallop in my chest. He murmured something in his language, but I didn’t ask anyone for a translation. I focused on his tone instead. No judgment, no annoyance. He was soothing me.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, in his language for his benefit. He shook his head, which was a little silly with the way we were pressed together.
“My Finn. No sorry,” he whispered back.
Oh, how I wanted to lean into that possessiveness. He made me feel wanted, and I craved that feeling so much, I felt close to tears. I held back, since I figured he wouldn’t go clean up if I cried. I didn’t want him to be uncomfortable just to comfort me. But when he got back, I didn’t fight him when he pulled me against his side. It was safe and warm and I needed it. I needed him. Did he feel the same way about me?