Crystal Healer (22 page)

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Authors: S. L. Viehl

Tags: #Speculative Fiction

BOOK: Crystal Healer
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"We won't tell him that Hawk gave it to me as a gift of friendship." The chieftain's story intrigued me, however. "Who is this great healer?"

"It is only a figure from an old myth." Jylyj didn't seem very interested in it, either. "You should express your gratitude to the chieftain. He pays you a great compliment."

I nodded and said, "Your words honor me. I thank you."

Once Jylyj had translated that into oKiaf for the chieftain, Dnoc grunted and gave my face a fond pat before standing. He called out, and a moment later three tribesmen appeared.

As Dnoc spoke to his men, Jylyj said, "They are taking us to the kiafta reserved for special guests. We are to eat and rest until the night fires."

When we emerged from the chieftain's personal kiafta, the crowd of oKiaf waiting outside surprised me. I had thought the tribe would continue to keep their distance until word that we had been made welcome by their leader had been passed around the encampment.

Then there was their unnerving interest. Hawk and Qonja should have received the most attention, as they were the most exotic-looking members of the team, but everyone seemed to be staring at me.

I held on to Reever's hand. "Why are they looking at me like that?" I murmured to him.

"I don't know," he admitted. "But whatever happens, stay close to me."

One young male stepped boldly in front of us, stopping us in our tracks. He moved past Jylyj, Qonja, and Hawk and approached me. I studied his pale gray pelt and the many scarification marks he had on his arms before I realized I was staring. I quickly ducked my head and bit my lip, hoping he hadn't noticed.

The male went down on his hands and knees as he sniffed at my footgear and leggings. He did the same to the front of my long shirt, rising slowly until he loomed over me. He bent to sniff my hair, his breath blowing some of it over my eyes.

Reever pushed me behind him and uttered a few words in oKiaf. At the same time, Jylyj moved in and bumped his shoulder into the young male's as he said something in a challenging tone.

The young male stepped back, looked me over one more time, and then rejoined a group of males. They cuffed him on the arms and chest and talked very fast.

"It's all right," Jylyj said. "Some of the younger men of the tribe like to test certain boundaries. It's usually tolerated unless it gets out of hand." He turned to my husband. "How did you know what to say?"

"I absorbed some of their language during my contact with Dnoc." Reever scanned the faces watching us before giving the Skartesh a flat, unfriendly look. "I hope I made my meaning clear."

"You have," Jylyj said.

I had the feeling they weren't talking about the young tribesman anymore.

"I'm getting a little hungry," I said to my husband. "Jylyj, will they bring our packs to the guest shelter? We need our rations."

The Skartesh nodded and turned to speak to one of our escorts.

Reever gripped my hand a little more firmly. "Nicely done," he murmured.

"I think enough challenges and meanings have been dealt with for one day," I said. "And, as it happens, I
am
hungry."

I slowed my steps as we walked past the large central cooking pit to look in some of the pots and see what the tribeswomen were preparing. Thick, rich-looking stews filled about half of the pots, but others were covered with leaves. I saw one female uncovering a pot, and watched as she used two short-handled, hand-sized versions of the pronged weapon the men carried to lift a browned haunch of meat from the pot.

Jylyj told us to wait there, and he went with Reever and one of our escorts to retrieve our packs.

An older female tending the pots noticed my interest and gestured for me to come closer. When I crouched down beside her, I saw she was preparing a piece of meat, as well. She used a chipped piece of stone to fish one of the embers out of the pit, and skillfully wrapped it with a white substance in a piece of tough-looking hide before wedging it in the last space between the meat and the inside of the pot. The scent of salty smoke grew stronger and teased my nose before the woman covered the meat and the bundles with layer after layer of the leaves.

I had smoke-cured enough meat on Akkabarr to grasp the process if not the ingredients used, and when she gave me a questioning look, I nodded. She turned her head and spoke to the woman who had finished cooking her meat, and the other female used her claws to carve a piece from it and came to offer it to me.

I knew I shouldn't have accepted it, not without properly scanning the meat first to make sure it wouldn't disagree with my stomach. But it had been so long since I had tasted real meat. The Jorenians ate only flowers and plants, and Reever told me that he and most of the other ensleg no longer used game for food. Since hunting was not possible on a ship, and not permitted on Joren, all I had eaten since leaving the homeworld had been synthetic protein.

In the end, I couldn't help myself. I tested it with a small nibble, and then groaned with pleasure as the dark, aromatic flavor of it spread over my tongue. Before I could think twice about it, I had eaten the rest and licked my fingers like a youngling.

The women dropped their gazes abruptly as a shadow stretched over me.

I looked up at the Skartesh. "Where is Duncan?"

"He is trying to signal that trader friend of his." He seemed amused. "Did you like the taste of the
namas
?"

"It was delicious," I told him. "How do I tell them that, and thank them?"

He told me the words in oKiaf, and I repeated them carefully to the women. They seemed pleased, although the older woman gave Jylyj an odd look.

The three kiafta reserved for guests of the tribe had not been marked with any symbols, and seemed plain-looking compared to the others in the encampment.

Jylyj gestured to the largest of the three. "That is for you and Reever. I will take the small one on the left, and Qonja and Hawk can sleep in the right."

I appreciated the chance for privacy, but Qonja seemed concerned.

"Should we sleep apart?" he asked the Skartesh. "Would it not be safer for us to occupy one together?"

"If we do, the tribe will think we are
mataerel
," Jylyj said. "It is what they call a mated group." He noticed Hawk's discomfort. "Be at ease, crossbreed. As long as those who are involved are agreeable to it, the oKiaf do not forbid mating with more than one partner, or with someone of the same gender, which is known as
litaerel
. Children who are orphaned at a young age are usually adopted by
litaerel
, as they cannot have children of their own."

"Would that I could bring my former ClanFather here," Qonja muttered as he ducked inside the kiafta Jylyj had suggested he and Hawk use.

The crossbreed didn't follow him, but remained with us. "I am surprised that the oKiaf have such progressive views about mating, and yet subjugate their females as they do."

"What you call subjugation is in truth a biological imperative," Jylyj said. "oKiaf females produce a large amount of hormones that cause them to be naturally timid. It often suppresses their survival instincts, and they will not defend themselves, no matter what opposition or danger they face. The males of the species also make a generous supply of a similar hormone, only the effect it has on them drives them to be very aggressive and dominating, particularly toward females. The oKiaf culture evolved as a result."

"Is the same true of the Skartesh?" I asked. When the resident gave me a surprised look, I added, "You have to admit, you have displayed some of the same male characteristics."

"Our glandular systems are slightly different, but it's believed that the oKiaf and the Skartesh are the dece dents of one species. I will try not to be too aggressive or dominating." He sounded stiff now, as if I had offended him. "The fire gathering will begin as soon as the sky is dark. You should rest while you have the chance." He disappeared into the smallest kiafta.

"May I accompany you inside your shelter?" Hawk asked.

Still bewildered by Jylyj's reaction to my observation, I nodded, and led him into the kiafta.

Some of the same stone furnishings we had seen in the chieftain's shelter occupied the interior, but these did not appear as old or worn. A long hide mat stuffed with what sounded like dried plant material lined the stone sleeping platform, as well as a coverlet of very soft golden fur. I ran my fingers over the beautifully worked pelt and felt some small bumps, and parted the hairs to find more of the carved wood slivers. Each one had been carefully sewn to the underlying hide and then concealed under the fur.

"Those are likely talismans," Hawk said, examining my find. "All people are vulnerable when they sleep, so they're probably protective charms."

"Or fertility symbols, to help a female conceive." I drew back the coverlet and sat down on the mat, which was comfortable without being too soft. "The longer I am here, the more I like this world."

"So do I, but there is something that troubles me." Hawk went to close the hide over the entry before he came to sit beside me. "Jarn, Jylyj knows a great deal about the oKiaf."

I nodded. "He has been very helpful. We probably wouldn't have done as well with Dnoc without his advice."

"That is what I thought, until he spoke of their mating practices, and how accepting they are of those like me and Qonja." Hawk stroked his hand over the pelt coverlet in an absent fashion. "Such matters are part of the private lives of the tribe. On Joren, you never hear the people speak of how Choosing is forbidden to those of the same gender--especially with offworlders."

I had to agree with him; if Reever had not told me I would have never known about the taboo. "Do you think what he told us is wrong?"

"It is not what he said, exactly. We have heard him speak to the oKiaf, and they understand him completely. He gave us their words for the different relationships within the tribe--very personal, private words. He also knew that
litaerel
couples adopt orphaned children because they cannot reproduce naturally. For an offworlder who has only visited this world a few times, he knows so very much." Hawk made an uneasy gesture. "Too much, I think."

I considered what he had said. "We don't know how long he stayed here during his visits. Obviously, he learned their language, so his visits had to be of some duration. When you consider how much importance the oKiaf give to ritual matters, it may be that he studied their culture extensively before he even came here."

"It worries me, Jarn," Hawk persisted. "Jylyj is not merely knowledgeable about the oKiaf. He is practically an expert. You know how carefully the League prepares their intelligence operatives."

"I had my own suspicions, and went so far as to perform a DNA test on him," I admitted. "Jylyj's genes are pure Skartesh."

"Then he cannot be a League spy sent to sabotage the mission." The crossbreed Terran gave me a rueful look. "Qonja says my imagination does run away with itself sometimes."

"We should ask him about how he learned so much," I said. "I'm sure he can explain everything."

"Yes." Jylyj stepped through a slit in the hide opposite the entry. "I think I will start with how easy it is to hear what is being said in a nearby kiafta."

Hawk moved quickly to his feet and his wings spread out, one curling over my head. "I apologize for any offense my words have caused," he said, "but they were not meant for your ears."

"Such words are generally the most offensive." Jylyj gazed down at me. "You might have asked me to take the DNA test voluntarily, Healer Jarn. I would not have refused you."

I felt miserable. "Hawk, would you allow me to speak with Jylyj alone?"

The crossbreed didn't seem happy, but he nodded and left the shelter.

"Is this wise?" Jylyj asked. "If I am a League spy, I might take this opportunity to sabotage the mission."

I didn't like the way he was snarling at me. "You must not have been listening too closely, or you would have heard me defending you to Hawk."

"You trust me only because I have the proper genes. Forgive me if I am not overwhelmed by your confidence." He moved as if to leave, and then turned back to me. "I do know much about oKia. For many years I have done nothing but dream about someday returning again to live among the tribes. But I am not one of the people, and my calling has assured that I never will be. Is there anything more you want to know? Ask me."

"There is one thing." I stood. "Can you stop shouting at me before Qonja comes in here and declares you his ClanKill?"

"In truth, I have no HouseClan," Qonja said as he stepped in through the other side entrance. His dark blue claws gleamed. "That simply means I can gut anyone I wish, whenever I like."

"So it would seem." Jylyj gave the Jorenian a measuring look. "Your pardon, Healer Jarn. I should not have spoken in anger to you."

"I think you had some cause, but I accept." I glanced at Qonja. "I shield Jylyj."

"Yes, of course you do." The Jorenian sighed his disappointment and retracted his claws. "Three females are waiting outside with food. They are becoming terrified. I suggest we invite them in before we frighten them off for good."

Eleven

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