“Nonsense,” the chief chuckles. “No shame attaches to you for falling into the same trap that we all did.”
This is unraveling fast. My skin goes hot, then cold. But they’re still just guessing. Hanging in uncertainty. I can still push this.
I force a laugh. It comes out brighter than I intended. “This is wonderful. Chief, you are testing me. You aretestingthe Woman! Which other chief would have the force to do so? Truly I picked the right tribe. The shaman can’t say what is true without breaking his oath of secrecy to the old shaman. But this has gone on for long enough. Of course, the Woman needs to eat and sleep! I am to be the Mother of Xren! Do not test me more, or I will have to leave. Then nobody will have women.”
The crowd leans forward as one, hopeful, greedy, and uncertain. My heart bangs so hard I can feel it in my palms.
Time is running out.
“Men of the Tratena tribe!” I finish my speech. “Do you want women of your own?”
25
–Kenz’ox–
“Yes!” the tribe yells as one. The sound makes me clench my jaw in pain. I’m feeling light-headed after the knock to my head. I’m not thinking right. But it looks as if Dorie is doing well, pretending to be the Woman. It is a dangerous game, and I know I may have to do something to help. But I don’t know what. I’m sick with worry over Aker’iz, alone in that Plood ship.
“Then do not test me more!” Dorie says. “I shall spend the night in the hut, guarded by Warrior Kenz’ox. Tomorrow we will talk more aboutyourwomen. For I am only the first!”
The tribe cheers in a deafening roar. Chief Smirt’ax’s face is redder than usual. But even a chief must sometimes bow to the tribe, especially when they are as determined as now. I see madness in their eyes, a wildness that would make it deadly for any chief to defy. They all want a woman, and their desire is as hot as the fire in a steel forge. I’ve never seen them like this. Dorie is playing them well.
Strong arms pull me to my feet and lead me to the hut that’s been built. I’m pushed inside and stumble over a small bush they haven’t removed from the ground.
I immediately crawl to the other side, across dry grass and cut twigs. We must escape somehow so that we can check on Aker’iz and get her to safety. This is not far from the ship. I can smell the ocean—at least I think I can. I may be imagining it.
I start to work on the wall. This hut was made in a hurry, and it’s not well made. It’s much the same as the way we made the drying hut and the playpen, with poles and thin vines filling out the spaces. It’s not easy to make a hole, and I would never be able to crawl out of the one I’m slowly able to pry open. But maybe Dorie can. It’s a desperate thing I’m planning.
My fingers get sticky with sap from the poles as I slowly bend a stiff, stubborn vine with both hands. It finally breaks, and I stick my head out the hole. Good. It’s in the middle of a bush. I break off branches and twigs, then sit down with my back to the hole I made.
I hear Chief Smirt’ax and Dorie coming closer. The rest of the tribe is chattering excitedly all around.
Dorie says something that makes them go “ooooh!” and then she walks into the hut, just having to duck her head to get inside. She closes the door very carefully and looks over at me. “Are you all right, Warrior Kenz’ox?”
“Got knocked on the head,” I tell her. Then I lower my voice. “You have to get out. Check on Aker’iz.”
“I know,”she whispers. “Your tribe is strong, Warrior,” she says loudly. “Are you as strong as they are? You shall guard me this night.”
It’s very quiet outside. They’re all listening.
“Those men are nothing compared to me,” I declare, while showing Dorie the hole. “Get out now. I will follow if I can,”I whisper. “They are weak and pitiful,” I state loudly. “The chief more than most. I’m sure he’s drinking his fill of frit right now.”
Dorie looks out the hole, then grabs my hand and squeezes hard. “I will do my best,”she whispers. “Oh, I don’t think he’s that bad,” she says in her normal voice. “But he does like to listen to other people talking. Like right now.”
A murmur goes through the crowd outside, and it sounds like it draws away a little.
I reach for my belt, but there’s nothing there. I have no weapon to give her.
“Yes, he’s quite the eavesdropper,” I say out loud. Then I lean in and kiss Dorie on her mouth. I place my hand behind her head, trying to show her how I feel about her without saying it so the men can hear. No words could convey it anyway, and the kiss becomes desperate. Her warmth steadies me for a heartbeat—just long enough to imagine what life could be like if this dreadful night wasn’t happening. “My brave warrior.”
Dorie’s face twitches, but she catches herself in time. “Let’s be quiet now,” she says out loud. “I will sleep until tomorrow. Do not disturb me.” She turns around and crawls out the hole. Her hips just fit between the poles. She catches one of her moonboots on the vine, so I quickly unsnag it. Then she’s gone.
“Very well, Holy Woman,” I agree, alone in the hut. “May I lie here? No, of course… Oh, are you taking your dress off?” I pull the hole closed, then kick up dirt as I scoot over to the door so that they may hear me better.
It’s extremely quiet outside as the men listen intently. They won’t be able to see anything—there’s no light in here, and the grass covering the walls is dense.
“Ah, you’re keeping it on,” I decide, suddenly worrying that some young warrior may become overcome with the need to see Dorie bared. “What was that? You speak so softly… You want me to tell you a story to help you sleep?” It’s something the young boys in the tribe often ask for, and something I fully intend to do with Aker’iz when she can understand words.
“All right. I shall. Let me think… Hmm. One day—this was many moons ago—I was hunting in the jungle. I was looking for skarn, because my useless tribe hadn’t kept the food stores full…”
