Page 22 of Finding Her Luck
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The other Orki had been waiting. Another hunting party from the homelands. They had a camp prepared with provisions and cooking meat. Three of these Orki came up to her dark-skinned male. It sounded like an exchange of information. Her eyes down, she saw legs, and feet, and the tips of lowered weapons. Carpeted with moss and ferns, unknown plant life teamed on the forest floor. Three different kinds of mushrooms caught her attention. Were any edible or did they have other properties? A plant with delicate star-shaped flowers sprouted up on thin shoots among ferns with dark, cobalt blue fronds. Beautiful.
Chittering noises came from the trees above them, squirrels or the like, the cry of birds, and life, incredible life everywhere. Still morning, the forest on this island was wide awake, ignoring the Orki predator's presence and going about its business.
She yawned. Tired. Wet. Cold. Achy. Now that they were out of the water and the hunting party was with friends, some tension had been shed. With its loss, her own physical complaints returned. Corrin was about ready to scream with frustration from it all. Could she get no peace? A moment where some awful thing wasn't pressing in on her? Her bad luck that she would be in this powerless situation, but she also felt sick, weepy and itchy on top of it.
She wanted Urku-ri to touch her as he had at the last rest. To touch her this instant.
While, at the same time, she wanted home and normal. Even her nagging sisters, but better, the peace of her lonely boat with her fishing net.
No cave or rocky overhang. This time the shelter was a structure that felt old and well used, the carved-out trunk of one of the giant trees. With steps to climb up, and steps that wound down. The trunk hollowed out, with a big opening in the middle for smoke from the deep fire pit to escape. Circular, with carved seats in some places, and spaced shallow dugouts, there were two levels, with upper and lower fire pits. They passed a deep curve in the wall and she saw what looked like a panel or door carved there. They were everywhere. Storage. The place was big enough for an entire community. Corrin marveled at it.
Urku-ri led her to a prepared area. He helped her dismount, unsaddled Searnon who said something and ran off, then he helped Corrin remove her soaked boots and stockings. She covered herself in one of the dry furs from the bedding pile. The rest
Of their routine went the same as before. Two big squares of sticky block dried fruit, honey, and other ingredients, wrapped in a crackling paper-like substance waited for them, along with a fresh bladder of water and the red bladder of the noxious, milky liquid.
Her Orki disappeared and returned with an extra woolen blanket over his shoulder. Carrying a wooden trencher holding a hunk of meat and a pile of small, hard, round fruit.
When he sat down, his body blocked out the rest of the camp. Isolating them.
Corrin looked up from the sweet square. "What is this called?"
"Cake," he answered.
She couldn't help her doubtful expression. Was he teasing? It was heavy, sweet, stuffed with strange, sticky dried fruits and spices. Not cake.
"Cake," he said again, his mouth making that almost smile and eyes shining. The amused expression made him seem safe, affable.
He wasn't.
"Why am I not supposed to look at the other's in the hunting party, at the women from the village, at anything?" she asked. "Why Corrin mind self?" She felt foolish asking. The answer might be the most awful one.
"Corrin, want other Orki in the hunting party? Want brother? Want Huk-ni? Luth-ni? Doku-ni?" he asked. His eyes met hers, a lighter blue than the sky, strange in his dark gray, almost black skin, probing. Seeking. Seeing. His eyes didn't stray from hers. He didn't glance away to see what was happening around them, or down at his food, or to her wet braid, and the widening stain of water it was causing on the blanket he'd brought her.
She wished he would.
"Want others in the hunting party? What does that mean?" She tried to imitate the words he'd said. Were those names? "I don't know what you mean. I want to go home. But I'm not going to get that, am I?"
"Corrin, want other Orki, Corrin look. The eye wants what the eye sees." His eyes stayed on hers. Unwavering. She felt her cheeks heat.
It was one of the clearest sentences he'd ever spoken, and it sounded like something her Nanny would say.
"I don't want any male," she told him, insulted, outraged. And afraid. It wasn't true. It should be true. She wanted it to be true with her whole being, but her body was still broadcasting the opposite in disgusting, outrageous ways that she couldn't stop.
"Corrin want no other Orki, no look, no see other Orki. Corrin see other Orki, Orki take."
"Are you saying that if I look at another Orki, if I see him, that gives another male the right to take me?"
"Urku-ri say. Corrin Urku-ri redress. Mine. Corrin see other Orki, Urku-ri kill Orki. All Orki know this."
She worked through his words in her mind. "It feels like I have no value, like I'm a worthless thing, less than Searnon's saddle, no rights, no opinion, no freedom. Is that what life is like for your women? Do your females just have to stand around with their eyes on your precious feet until you have time for them?"
He lifted meat from her plate, held it to her lips for her to eat, leaning close, crowding her. "Corrin is redress," he said. The smell of simply roasted meat was there, but also his earthy musk.
Her stomach churned with hunger and her mouth watered. Meat touched her lips, and she opened, obedient. He watched her chew, his hand smoothing over her jaw, as if fascinated. "Corrin is
Urku-ri answer."
