Page 38 of Caveman Alien's Heat
“It is harder to believe,” he continues, “that you didn’t know you hunted on claimed land. There are many tracks in the snow where you were found. You must have seen them, Warrior Nator’ax.”
Nator’ax shifts beside me, drawing breath to answer, but the chief lifts a hand.
“We do not say you lie,” he says calmly. “Perhaps the jungle tribes don’t read the snow as we do. Perhaps you didn’t understand what you saw.”
That feels like a concession. A small one, but real.
The chief’s expression stays neutral. “But you have made extraordinary claims. Dragons. A flying vessel filled with warriors. If these claims are lies meant to sway this council,then you are guilty of deception. And the punishment for that is death.” The word lands like a stone in my stomach.
“If, however, you speak the truth…” He gestures faintly toward the mountains beyond the village. “Then the Gar tribe stands in great danger.”
Murmurs ripple through the gathered hunters. Even now, I can feel their fear working against us as much as for us.
“This places us in a difficult position,” the chief goes on. “We can’t release you, not while this doubt remains. But neither can we condemn you. Not without certainty.”
He straightens. “So we will wait. You will remain in this village for five days, under watch. If, within that time, the dragon you speak of comes, or if your warriors arrive in their flying vessel, then your words are proven true. You will be released, and you may go where you wish.”
My heart stutters. “And if nothing comes?” I ask before I can stop myself.
The chief’s eyes flick to me. “Then you have lied to us. And the sentence will be carried out.”
“Five days is not—” I begin, but the chief cuts me off.
“This council meeting is ended.” He steps forward, takes the burning torch from its stand, and turns it in his hand for a brief moment. Then he drives it down into the snow. The flame hisses and dies.
And just like that, the time starts ticking.
But I’m still relieved. Elated, even. We may have only postponed death, but five days gives us time to come up with something.
The chief nods to us in passing. “You can stay in your caves. Or do you only need one?” He gives me a meaningful look. Yeah, they noticed that Nator’ax came to my cave last night.
“You are bringing this tribe close to dishonor and death,” Nator’ax growls. “We’re clearly innocent of trespassing. And now you have changed our alleged crime to something else! When this is over, my Borok tribe may have no other choice than to challenge yours. No warrior can stand being accused of lying.”
“We shall see,” the chief says, and glances at the shaman, who’s still sitting in the same place, staring up at the stars while his lips move with what is almost certainly a prayer. “Not all of us agree with this judgment. But the council has spoken. You may not leave this village unless several hunters come with you. There is food left after the common meal. Please eat as much as you want.” He walks off.
I have a feeling this sentence was not his idea. He’s too level-headed a man to take risks like this. I think I know who’s behind it.
The shaman stands up and walks towards us. Nator’ax places himself between the shaman and me.
Up close, his presence feels heavier. His one arm holds the staff, sinewy and thin.
“You speak of fire and beasts,” he says softly, not looking at Nator’ax, but at me. “Of things that destroy men and tribe.” His eyes flick upward, to the dark sky. “Such things are rare. But not unknown.”
Nator’ax’s body shifts, subtly placing himself between us. “The council is finished, shaman. Are you trying to continue it on your own?”
The shaman smiles faintly. “The council is over fornow, indeed.” His gaze returns to me, sharp and curious. “But there remains much to be said. I wonder, such power as you speak of… if it can be commanded by one man, perhaps it can be better commanded by another.”
A chill slides down my spine. “It would be a mistake to try. Praxigor is not patient with those who lack the will and the strength. Do you have either?”
His smile widens just a fraction. “A man who is not the strongest in limbs must be strong in other ways, Dame Riley. Perhaps you shall see it.”
Nator’ax’s voice drops, low and dangerous. “Do not test things you do not understand, ice hunter.”
Crelt’ax studies him for a long moment, then inclines his head, as if acknowledging a point in a debate rather than yielding it. “We shall see what comes in five days. Truth has a way of revealing itself.” Then he turns and walks away, his figure swallowed by the shifting firelight.
I let out a breath. “I don’t like him.”
“You shouldn’t,” Nator’ax says. “He’s a man with much pain in him. Such men want to inflict pain on others.”
