T Southwell - Children of Another God

"Leave me alone," she said, hating his ability and self-confidence, but mostly his presence when she wished Chanter was there instead.

"You're hurt," he pointed out.

"I don't need your help."

Talsy tottered away, and Kieran stared after her, glancing every now and then at the fleeing brigands. Ignoring the dumb-struck stares of the mild-natured men who had watched so helplessly, she went to Sheera's tent. The old woman cleaned and bound the wound, clicking her tongue.

Talsy spoke through gritted teeth. "Chanter will heal it when he gets back."

Sheera shook her head, her hands busy with the bandage. "Wounds like this can go nasty. I hope he's not too much longer."

Talsy echoed the sentiment. When Sheera finished her ministrations, Talsy returned to her shack to flop down on the mattress. Her limbs trembled and her stomach was a tight knot that threatened to empty itself. That night she had no appetite, the fight fresh in her mind and the throbbing wound a constant reminder. She fell asleep with her knife within reach.

Talsy drifted in sea's cold embrace, and below her, Chanter sank into the blue depths, bound with gold. She screamed his name and swam down after him, but he sank too fast. She wailed, exhausted her air and inhaled sea water. Thrashing, she coughed and choked.

Talsy woke as something shook her shoulder. A dark shape loomed over her, and his musky scent told her that he was Trueman. She grabbed her knife and stabbed him with all her strength. The man gave a stifled cry and recoiled, almost jerking the weapon from her grasp. She lunged at him again, but he sprang up and fled. Clutching the knife, she panted with terror and the aftermath of her dream, her wound throbbing. As her fear ebbed, she wondered why the thug had woken her instead of killing her while she slept or pinning her down and gagging her.

Confused and uncertain, she rose and went to the door to peer out, clasping her injury. Moonlight silvered Kieran’s pain-twisted features, and her heart sank. He tried to bind his arm with a strip of cloth, using one hand and his teeth. She stepped out, staring at him in horror.

"What the hell were you doing in my shack?" she demanded.

He clasped his shoulder. "You were screaming blue murder. I came to wake you before you woke the whole damned camp."

A pang of shame shot through her, but she swallowed the apology that hovered on her tongue. The fault was his for invading her tent and waking her.

"You'd better let me bind that wound."

Talsy re-entered the shack and lighted a lamp. She gestured for him to sit on the mattress and knelt beside him with a strip of clean linen. Kieran undid his shirt and pulled it off, revealing a nasty gash in his upper arm. Talsy washed and bound the wound while he gritted his teeth and turned his head away. At least her knife was clean, so his wound was unlikely to become infected. When she finished, he put his shirt back on and rose to leave without looking at her.

"Kieran."

He stopped in the doorway.

"If I scream, bang on the door to wake me. Don't come in here again, understand?"

The warrior nodded and left. She blew out the lamp and lay down, but her worries and aches her kept her awake. Visions of Chanter in another Trueman trap haunted her, and she tossed and turned in the tangled sheets for most of the night.

Talsy woke at first light with gritty eyes and a pounding head. She stretched, wincing, then rose, thrust aside the curtain and tripped over something stretched across her doorstep. She sprawled with a curse, tearing the wound in her side as she was forced to throw out her arms. Gasping with pain, she turned to find Kieran sitting up on his thin pallet, scowling at her.

She stared at him in angry disbelief. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Making sure you're safe." He rose and gathered up his bedroll.

"Well don't! I don't need your protection, so leave me alone!"

Kieran strode away, his back stiff with indignation, either from the embarrassment of being caught sleeping on her doorstep or her harsh words. Talsy glared at his retreating figure, angered by his assumption that he was her self-appointed guardian in Chanter's absence.

At breakfast, she glowered at him until he excused himself and took his bowl of porridge to eat elsewhere.

Sheera raised her brows at the angry girl. "What's going on between you and Kieran?"

"Nothing. He's an oaf, and he hangs around me."

Sheera smiled, her eyes twinkling. "You should be glad, young miss. He's a handsome man, well-mannered and clean. I would be flattered to have such a warrior concerned for my safety."

Talsy snorted, casting her a withering glance. "I'm not. He smells and has no manners at all. I have Chanter. Why would I want a Trueman?"

"Because Chanter is Mujar." Sheera leant forward. "He's of another race, child. He can never be what you want him to be."

"Of course he can!"

Sheera shook her head, looking sad. "Ask Marla, the woman who loved a Mujar. She had many years of misery, for he did not stay with her."

"What Chanter and I have is different. He won't leave me, ever." Her hand rose to the mark on her forehead, and she snatched it away.

Sheera noticed the gesture. "What's that on your brow?"

"Nothing. A clan tattoo."

She eyed it. "And does it bind you to the Mujar?"

"Yes."

"But not he to you."

Talsy hesitated, remembering Chanter's warning. "Ask him."

"That would do me no good at all, as you well know."

She shrugged and spooned her porridge, hoping that the questions were at an end, but the old woman's eyes narrowed.

"Have you lain with him?"

Talsy gasped. "No!"

"Don't do it," Sheera warned. "Take some advice from an old woman. Don't lie with a Mujar."

"Why?"

She sighed, putting aside her bowl. "It will break your heart. Ask Marla why she's never married, never had children. She'll explain it to you."

"He doesn't seem to want me, anyway," Talsy muttered, her cheeks warming with embarrassment even as she hoped that Sheera could explain why this was so.

The old woman paused, as if on the verge of telling her something, then said, "Good, let it remain so."

Talsy spent the day on the beach, scanning the sky for the first glimpse of the returning Mujar. That evening, when Sheera renewed the dressing on Talsy's wound, she shook her head at the puss that filled it, unaffected by her lotions and poultices.

"Those damned brigands and their dirty blades," she muttered. "They need only wound you, and you can die. This is the same sort of infection Kieran had."

Talsy gritted her teeth as the seer dressed the wound again, wishing Chanter would return soon. His prolonged absence worried her.

While they were eating breakfast the following morning, an eagle soared into the camp and landed close by with a few powerful backstrokes. Talsy ran to greet him even before the wind of his transformation died. She refrained from embracing him in front of the others and contented herself with placing a hand on his chest. He smiled and patted her head, a gesture she would have thought demeaning from anyone else.

"Did you find a ship?" she demanded, impatient for good news.

He nodded, scanning the peaceful camp. "Not much of one, but it will help. We'll have to cut trees and rebuild most of it. It's burnt to the waterline."

Talsy's heart sank. The prospect of taking trees from the forest dismayed her. Chanter headed for the fire where Sheera and Kieran sat, their cooling breakfasts forgotten. He settled on a stool after directing a brief smile at each of them, and Sheera dished up a bowl of porridge for him. While Chanter ate, Talsy recounted the events that had occurred in his absence, the highlight of which was the fight with the thugs. At the end of the story, he inclined his head to Kieran.