“You may be right,” Torkz’ik says thoughtfully. “Ifthe man can defend his turf.”
I kick over a pot. “That’s easily settled. Attack me, all three. If you’re all dead before you can stand up, I have shown that I can defend it. Come on.”
They don’t move.
“No? Then we all agree that this is my turf, and that you three are intruders. What happens to intruders on another tribe’s turf, Emar’oz?”
“Now, Kenz’ox, there’s no need?—”
“What happens to them?” I bark. These idiots are taking me away from Dorie and the walk on the beach.
“The tribe that owns the turf will try to kill them,” he concedes. “But you don’t have to kill us. We will leave. Just let us stay here for one more night. It’s already getting dark. In fact, Kenz’ox, won’t you stay here with us? Enjoy some tender skarn!”
“Yes,” Torkz’ik agrees. “Let’s stop this nonsense about turfs and tribes. Let us all enjoy a peaceful evening together, just four men of the Tratena tribe, far from our village. We’ll talk about the old days!”
Frant’ex frowns, but doesn’t say anything.
I laugh. “And then I’ll wake up with a blade in my chest. No thanks, Torkz’ik.”
“We already decided not to kill you,” Emar’oz reminds me. “We stand by that.”
I grab one end of the pole that’s been driven through the length of the skarn and lift it from the fire. “You will sleep hungry tonight. I’m taking back my skarn.”
“That’s our skarn!” Frant’ex growls and reaches for his sword. “We hunted for that!”
“Now, now,” Emar’oz says and puts a hand on his arm. “It is his turf, and we do want our ill-guided tribesman to eat well in his grief. Take the skarn, Kenz’ox.”
“Thank you so much for the permission,” I say with acid in my voice. “I will enjoy the best parts of it.”
“You can’t eat all of that yourself,” Frant’ex whines. “Leave half for us!”
I snatch a rolled-up sleeping-skin from the ground and drape it over my shoulder. “Oh, I will only eat as much of the tenderest parts as I can. The rest I will burn as an offering to my Ancestors, and to my dead descendant, Aker’iz. She never had a chance to taste skarn, but tonight she will have as much of it as she can handle.” I hoist the hot carcass of the skarn onto my covered shoulder, dripping with fat.
Frant’ex draws breath to speak, but Emar’oz elbows him hard in the side. “Of course, Kenz’ox. Do as you think best.”
I stop and look at them. This is too easy. “You three have something in mind. You smile to each other like boys plotting to steal the shaman’s woman doll.”
“Us?” Torkz’ik asks, with a face so innocent it confirms my suspicion. “Plotting? We’re simple warriors, Kenz’ox. Perhaps we are simply happy that you will enjoy some tender skarn meat.”
I should either kill them or somehow force them to tell me what they have in mind. But I don’t want to spend more time on them, and even if I could, it would be really difficult to keep them all under control for much longer. “If I see any of you again, I will kill without a word. This is my turf now. Tomorrow at sunrise I will come here again. If you’re still around, you will not see me. But you will meet my blade.”
I back off into the jungle until I’m sure they’ve lost sight of me. Then I replace my sword in the belt and run, deliberately the wrong way.
After a while, I stop and listen.
No, they haven’t followed me.
I turn so that I’m walking in the right direction. There was something strange about those three. They were too calm. Only Frant’ex cared about losing their skarn. It must have taken them a long time to hunt it, and it smelled wonderful, slowly roasting on their fire.
They must have realized that I would win every fight. Still, I would have expected more resistance. And I would not have expected them to still be around days after they said they would walk back. While this is unclaimed turf, it would have made more sense to start walking home and resting by going slower, and for fewer hours each day.
Oh well, those three aren’t that hard to deal with. I shouldn’t let them invade my mind as well as my turf. Soon I’ll be walking on the beach with Dorie. And I have some idea what will happen there.
I speed up. This could be a fine evening.
The fire is burning when I reach the clearing. Before I step into the light, I watch for a moment. Dorie is sitting with Aker’iz on her lap and tries to feed her, chatting softly. It seems to be going well. The tame griket is lying down beside them, its long tail drawing lazy figures in the air above them.
For some reason, I remain there, just watching the two females, one very young, and the other a skilled warrior. There’ssomething very right about it all, something that warms my heart a great deal.
