Chapter 10
– Kenz’ox –
Dorie suddenly goes into the Plood ship and stays there.
“Let’s do some cooking,” I tell Aker’iz as I add wood to the fire. “You’ve had enough for now, I think. And you don’t like this anyway. Soon, when your teeth get a little bigger.”
My thoughts keep returning to Dorie. It’s hard to believe that she’s staying here just to repair the ship when she knows about a tribe where she could live safely. Nobody would choose to live outside of a tribe unless they had to, like Aker’iz and me. It’s as if she’s waiting for something.
And her skill with the spear… I’ve never seen anyone so accurate. She took down an irox when I was sure it would kill us both.
“It’s mysterious,” I mutter softly. “Nothing makes sense about her. Do you think… could she be the Woman?”
Aker’iz reaches for the fire, but it’s too far away to be a danger.
I try to remember the shaman’s lecture about the Prophecy. “A man would meet the Woman in the jungle. Then worship her in the special way, and then there was a Gift… was it from her or from him? Then she would mate with the man, and she would become the Mother of Xren…”
Thinking back to that lecture, which was by far the most popular the shaman ever gave, I find that I remember everything he told us about the Woman’s body. And how it should be worshipped.
He wasn’t wrong, but the full experience of a naked woman was much more powerful than his wooden doll. Oh, Dorie was wonderful, fighting the irox naked, and then standing on the beach as the sea Big dragged the irox into the depths. That is something the Woman could have done.
Aker’iz complains about me standing still for too long. I can tell from her tone that what she really needs is sleep.
“But that’s not your problem,” I tell her. “I will figure it out. This is where Dorie keeps her salt. Should we use some?” I open the jar and drizzle some of the salt on the sizzling meat. “We’ll just make more later. Or find it in that ocean.”
The baby soon falls asleep in my arms, and I gently put her into her pack and lean it on a rock at an angle, the way she prefers it.
The Woman. Worship. And even if she’s not the Woman, the shaman assured us it would be pleasant for her, and that it would be appropriate to honor any woman in that way. I can certainly see how it would be pleasant for me.
Perhaps that’s why she’s being distant and cool. She expects worship, but of course she can’t ask for it.
The Envoy said there was no Woman. But it’s crazy, saying all kinds of things.
I turn the slices of skarn meat. “What about her missing friend? And the tracks of others, possible women too? But I never saw any of them. She could have made those tracks herself. Or they were here when she arrived. The prophecy doesn’t say anything about other women, but it also doesn’t say that they are not there… ”
When the dinner is ready, I go into the saucer and find Dorie sitting on its floor. She’s staring into a part of the ship that looks immensely complicated. Like a heap of broken pottery, if pottery was clear and colorful like this.
She looks up. “Yes?”
I point. “Do you understand all that?”
She looks away. “Not yet.”
“The dinner meal is ready. Skarn meat is best while it’s still hot.”
“I come out,” she says.
As I walk back out, I look over my shoulder. Dorie leans her head against the wall and sighs, closing her eyes.
I make sure to give her the best piece of the skarn meat. In the tribe, it’s usually the youngest boys and the chief who get that, but Aker’iz is still too young to eat this kind of meal.
“It is very good,” Dorie says. “Easy to eat.”
“Some of the skarn is tender,” I agree as I chew on a less tender piece. “Unfortunately, they travel mostly alone. A long time can go by between each time one is found and hunted.”
“Is good meat for drying?” she asks.
“Almost all Smalls give us meat that can be dried. There are also other ways to preserve meat. How do you make the salt?”
She nods toward a stack of pots. “Put ocean water inside, put the pot in the sun. The next day all water gone, only salt left.”
I think about it. “An outcast who came to the tribe when I was a boy talked about having lots of salt. His old tribe would cover meat in salt. It would last longer. Perhaps we can try that, now that we have so much salt. An ocean of salt.”
“We can try,” Dorie says. “What happened to the outcast? He was allowed to stay?”
I toss a bone on the fire. “The men of the tribe gave him food and talked pleasantly with him to learn about his tribe and the places he had been. Then they lured him outside the walls of the village, saying they would show him a good place to find iron. As soon as they were out of the gate, they ran their swords through him, took his belongings, and left him there. The next morning he was gone, taken by some Big or Small.”
Her beautiful eyes widen. “They kill him? Why?”
I shrug. “He had other stripes. And he was an outcast, although he would not admit it. There was no place for him in our tribe. It’s a weakness to have strange-striped men in your village. Everyone knows he must be an outcast.”
“Hard to be an outcast,” she says thoughtfully. “Are you—um.”
“Am I an outcast?” I finish her question. “Possibly. I don’t know. It makes no difference. Aker’iz is safe now.”
Dorie licks her fingers. “Wait.” She goes to the food store and returns with a corked pot. “Do you have your mug?” She fills two mugs with what is clearly frit and hands mine back.
I sniff it. “Very nice. I see your pots for making frit.” I nod toward the setup.
“This is not made here. It is from the Borok tribe,” she tells me. “They call it frine. Your tribe make this?”
I take a sip and immediately have to cough as my tongue seems to burn. “They make lots of frit in my old tribe. But this is… mhm… this is stronger.”
Dorie gives me a little smile. “It comes from far away. They make strong frine for travel.”
I take another sip. I was never as big a drinker of frit as some in the tribe, but this tastes better than any I’ve had before. “It’s good. Very good.”
The campfire crackles as we finish the evening meal. I check on Aker’iz, but she will make it known if she wakes up.
“She sometimes sleeps the whole night,” I say as I sit back down, “only waking up right before sunrise. Hopefully this is one of those nights.”
The frit warms my insides. It’s a beautiful night.
Dorie looks up at the small slivers of the evening sky that can be seen through the treetops high above. “Can irox fly in dark?”
“Irox? They can fly in the dark, but they don’t often do so. I don’t think their eyes work well at night. Are you thinking of going to the beach?”
She looks toward the ocean, which can always be heard as a deep hiss. “I want to get clean.”
I stand up. “It’s better if I come, too. There are more dangers than just the irox. And I should also get clean before Aker’iz complains of my smell.”
For a moment, I think she will protest. Then she gets up, too. “Thanks.”
I consider putting Aker’iz inside the ship for safety, but she sleeps better outside, and I’ve seen no predators close to this clearing. Except Dorie’s tame griket, and he’s already been here once today.
I hang the baby on a tree and disguise her in the usual way. In the flickering light from the fire, she’s practically invisible against the tree. She doesn’t give off much of a smell, only the drok grease I’ve smeared on the side of the pack. It will keep Smalls away.
Standing still for a long moment, I listen for sounds I don’t like.
Nothing.
I walk ahead of Dorie to the beach, keeping a close lookout for irox and anything that moves. As we walk out from under the trees, we see the crescent of the moon Yrf shining in the night sky, giving everything a blue tinge. If there are any attackers, they will be easy to spot.
Dorie rams her spear into the sand right where only the highest waves can reach. “You already saw it all,” she says as she pulls off her clothes and hangs the garment on the spear. “And now it is too dark to see.”
My mouth goes dry. “Yes.”
It’s not quite that dark, and the sight of her dark nipples against her lighter skin, the dark triangle, and the remarkable shape of her round behind makes my manhood react immediately.
We wade into deeper water, and she turns. “You want clean, too?” Her gaze drops down my body and sticks at my loincloth before she turns back.
Well, why not. I’ve seen all of her, and doubtlessly I have the better view.
I undo my belt and fling it and the loincloth to shore, keeping my sword in my hand. There are no threats right now, be they from the jungle, from the air, or from the ocean.
Dorie turns again. “Maybe not longer—oh!”
My rod stands up as if made of iron, and it would be hopeless to hide it.
She looks away and squats to clean herself. “Maybe we not go longer into the ocean. We not know what lives here.”