The Tattooed Tribes (35 page)

He looked over
at Stacey, who was torn between horror at the thought of being tied
to Lucien, even if only for a few hours, and the pleasure of
knowing she was an expensive object of desire for a lot of eligible
parties.

“
If she marries you, there’ll be no
complications about permanency.”

“
I won’t do it,” Lucien growled.

“
You will do ask you are told,” Jon
replied.

“
Don’t worry,” Stacey sneered at Lucien. “I
won’t be accepting any bare handed
biey
like you.”

“
You will also do as you are told,” Jon
informed her. “And we’re going to do something about the bare
hand.”

He pushed
Lucien through the door of the cabin, where a determined looking
old woman arranged small bowls of ink and a set of sharp fine
needles.

“
Sit!” she ordered, pushing Lucien into a
chair.

She grabbed
his hands and held them firmly down on the table. “What is
required?”

“
One pearl,” Jon told her. “A red
one.”

“
Red? That must honour the right
hand.”

“
Ow!” Lucien yelped as she began to rapidly
stab at one of his fingers creating the circular
outline.

“
What else?” she asked, ignoring the
flinching and attacking the centre, preparing it for the red
ink.

“
Not much,”
Lucien said. “And it can wait.”

“
And disappoint Stacey on your wedding
day?” Jon said. “I think not. I make it clam, crawfish, trout,
common duck, hare and bass.”

Stacey could
not keep the smirk from her face.

“
You wanted to be tattooed,” Jon reminded
him with a grin.

“
I might have changed my mind,” Lucien
growled, wincing. “Ow!”

“
Don’t be a baby!” Jon replied,
unsympathetically. “You’re the one who wants to become a Tribal
Liaison Officer.”

~ The End
~

About the
Author

I fell in love
with my first soldier outside Buckingham Palace. He was a
Coldstream on guard and I was four. Later I fell in love with
reading and writing, and later still with scific and tales of
fantasy and high adventure, but that first admiration for the
military has never faded. Now I am married to an amateur military
historian who drags me around every military museum he can find. We
are both members of The Victorian Military Society.

I’ve always
told stories, but I am dyslexic and the process of writing them
down was always hard, and the results unsatisfactory, until I
discovered word processing, and for a few years I just wrote and
wrote and wrote. Most of it wasn’t good, but I was learning my
craft and eventually I sent a short story to SFX for their Pulp
Fiction competition and I was a winner! One of ten authors whose
story was printed in an anthology. Soon after I was contacted by
Big Finish, who published Dr Who stories under licence from the
BBC. On the strength of my SFX story, they commissioned me to write
for one of their anthologies. It was a real thrill.

I have always loved pulp sci
fic and adventure stories, the sort of book that is now called YA,
but I still think of as FUN. My small success made me take a
serious look at what I had written during my learning time and one
story stood out as having potential and after some extensive
rewriting
Jabin
was the result.

Glossary

Bried -
Bride

Breugeman -
Groom

Dheillwer -
Traveller

Husbeid -
Husband

Wifje -
Wife

Bietriwer -
Friend/Comrade/Brother

Liedwer -
Leader

Biey -
Boy

Gwerl -
Girl

Cheed -
Child

Neen -
No, but an emphatic ‘No’

Niiffliin -
Nothing or nobody, worthless. A vulgar
term.

Niifliinling -
Those outlawed by their tribe
for some reason

Pyst -
a very rude word

Sakeman -
Businessman/Dealer/Trader