Page 27 of Caveman Alien's Heat
Riley rubs her hands immediately, wincing slightly as the blood returns to her fingers.
The chief watches the movement with quiet curiosity. “Strangers from the sky,” he says thoughtfully. “A woman is unheard of. A woman from the sky is ominous. But we shall see. I will talk about this with our shaman and our elders.”
He turns away then, signaling that the discussion is finished for now.
The crowd slowly begins to break apart. Warriors return to their tasks. Elders drift back toward the cave entrances. Yet many of them continue glancing in Riley’s direction as they move. The curiosity has not faded. If anything, it has grown stronger.
Riley exhales slowly. “That go better than I expect,” she whispers.
“Anything could happen,” I reply. “They could decide to kill us. This is a powerful tribe. Do not be fooled by Hoker’iz and his calm manner. The most dangerous men are just that calm. Korr’ax himself is like that when weighing important matters.”
Riley looks around at the surrounding warriors. “Village is very interested in me.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Can you guess why?”
She gives me a little glance. “I can guess.”
Several young hunters stand near one of the fire pits, pretending to examine a rack of spears while clearly watching her. Others linger near the caves, speaking quietly among themselves. Their expressions are not hostile, but they are intense. Likely they wish for Riley to stay and for me to get lost, one way or the other.
Yes. The Gar tribe is powerful. Their hunters are skilled, their numbers strong. If they decide Riley should remain among them, no single warrior could take her away by force. Not even one from the Borok tribe.
For the first time since we were captured, a question forms in my mind that I do not wish to consider. If the Gar choose to keep her here… would Riley want me to fight for her?
8
- Riley-
Around us, the Gar tribe is still watching. They try not to stare, but they fail miserably. Warriors pretend to examine spearheads. Young boys hover near the fires with their mouths open. A few elders whisper behind sparse white beards.
I notice there’s no palisade around the village, apart from some stones that mark its edges. Either these guys aren’t worried about being attacked, or they’re confident they can beat back any attacker without any problems. I suppose the rock formations and ice around the village function as a kind of wall.
I also notice that there are guards at the entrance, two of them, armed with those long spears.
I lean a little closer to Nator’ax. “They looking at me like… like a spront they want to eat,” I mutter.
“They have never seen a woman,” he replies calmly. “My tribe was no different when Bryar first arrived. I stared at her, too.”
“Curios I understand. Drooling is new experience.”
He glances at one of the younger hunters, who quickly looks away. “They’re behaving. Mostly. But they’re confused, and they don’t know what to do about you. We may have to tell them. Not force them to make random decisions about things they know nothing about.”
Chief Hoker’iz comes over, flanked by two hunters. “Nator’ax and Riley of the Borok tribe. You were found on our Gar turf. Worse, you were found on our hunting ice. Worse still, you hunted two of our Smalls on our hunting ice. Each of these crimes is punishable by death.”
Nator’ax grabs his sword. “That is the wrong decision, men of the ice.”
The chief’s two guards lower their spears and point them at him.
“And yet,” the chief goes on, “the circumstances are unusual. First, one of you is a woman, and, we suspect, an alien. Secondly, we understand the gravity of having sworn a duty to your chief. Thirdly, it is clear from your clothing that you sincerely had no intention of coming to our turf and trespassing. Fourth, you made no attempt to flee when you saw our hunters coming, and you offered no resistance to being taken here. This is what we would expect from an honest man. Fifth, you trapped a stoka in a way that we admire, showing bravery. Sixth, we don’t fully understand the ship that you claim fell from the sky with you inside it. We would like to know everything about it, and your relations with the Plood.”
A cold little wave goes down my back. If they look inside the saucer and find that Plood in his locker, our situation isn’t going to improve.
“Ask us,” Nator’ax says, removing his hand from the sword. “We will answer every question, as we have done so far.”
“We shall,” the chief says. “Tomorrow at sunset, you shall appear before the tribal council. Then we shall decide what is to be done. Until then, you may move freely in the village, but not outside it. That’s for your safety. The plains and the mountains would kill you.” Chief Hoker’iz studies us for another moment, then gestures toward the caves carved into the rock wall. “You will each have a cave.”
My stomach sinks further. None of this is great news. My suspicion is that they’re setting up for killing Nator’ax for trespassing as an easy way to get rid of him. Then they can deal with me as they want.
I glance at Nator’ax again. His expression doesn’t change, but something tightens in his shoulders. “I am sworn to protect Riley. Do not make it impossible for me. You may force me into actions I have no desire to perform.”
