Calm: Ice Planet Barbarians: A Slice of Life Short Story (3 page)

T
he elders are fine
. Despite their age, they are as fit as any of the younger tribesmates. Warrek is teaching young Sessah how to craft a snare, and I run my hands over Sessah’s head just to check him. All are fine.

Perhaps this is nothing but the worry of a heavily pregnant female. Broody, as Shorshie says. I do not know, but I will finish visiting everyone in the tribe before I will relax.

Haeden and Vaza are out on the trails and will not return to the caves tonight. Farli has taken her parents, Kemli and Borran, to the Elders’ Cave so they can learn the gesture language that Li-lah speaks. I will worry over them until they return, but for now, there are others to check on. I think of my brother, and where his heart lies, and head for Claire and Ereven’s cave.

I arrive just as Ereven is emerging, his fishing nets slung over his shoulder. He gives me an easy smile and touches my shoulder. “Healer. You are more full with kit every time I look at you.”

“That is because I am,” I tease back. That small skin-contact tells me that Ereven is not the cause of my worry, and so I peek past him into his cave. “I came to check on your lovely mate.”

“She is with Tee-fah-nee and the one that cries all the time. Their mates are out hunting.” He gestures at his nets. “And I am about to join them. Claire wants fish tonight.”

I smile. “I will not keep you.” My mind already is racing ahead. The one that cries all the time is Ar-eeh-aw-nuh, and not the mate I would have chosen for Zolaya, who is always smiling and happy. His mate is nothing like that. When she first arrived, she cried because she hated the cold. Now she cries because she is tired and her kit is fussy. I can help with that, at least.

As Ereven departs, my back seems to squeeze tight, the muscles pulling hard in protest to all my walking. A hiss escapes me, and I pause, sending healing through my body. The aches disappear a few moments later and I can walk again. I shuffle forward. I am tired and want nothing more than to return to my bed and curl up in a nest of furs, but I can do that once I have eased my fears. I rub the underside of my belly again and head toward Ti-fah-ni’s cave.

The three women are seated around Ti-fah-ni’s fire, sorting through handfuls of seeds. Ar-ee-aw-nuh holds her kit Analay, rubbing his back as he cries. Claire sits with her legs crossed in front of her, belly gently rounded with the first signs of her coming kit. Ti-fah-ni is newly resonated and will not have a belly for moons and moons yet. They all look up at me as I enter, and Ti-fah-ni jumps to her feet. “Maylak! Come sit! You look tired.”

I bite back my irritation. Why does everyone tell me I look bad? I am just fat with kit. But I know she means well, and so I put a smile on my face. “I heard Analay is having a rough day and wanted to help.” Ti-fah-ni’s hands are strong on mine, and the healing pulse I send through her tells me she is well. I let her help me to her seat, settling between the two women.

Ar-ee-aw-nuh immediately hands Analay over to me, her mouth downturned in a frown. “He’s so fussy today. Is it my milk again?”

I rock the kit in my arms, sending warm healing through his little body. Of all the tribe, Analay worries me the most. His khui is not strong, and he struggles where others flourish. I have never shared this with the mother because it is something that can either get better with time, or worse. There is no way of knowing, and to tell her my fears would only cause more worry. It is just another burden that a healer must bear, and so I watch Analay closely. The khui heals much, but it cannot heal all, and something in his mother’s milk makes his small stomach hurt. I send my healing through to him to encourage his body to welcome food, but every day is difficult for him. “It is. He is hungry, but it upsets his stomach.”

Tears of frustration rise to Ar-ee-aw-nuh’s eyes. “Is my baby lactose intolerant? Can’t you fix that?”

I shake my head, because I do not know these words. Milk is milk, and Analay does not like milk. “Perhaps when he gets older, he can eat meat if it is chewed well for him.”

“There’s a herb that settles the stomach, right? Maybe we can mash some not-potato with some bone broth and some of the herb and see if that helps?” Ti-fah-ni asks, looking at me.

“Kemli has one,” I agree. “Analay is young for solid food, but perhaps it is worth trying.”

“I’ll go,” Claire says, getting to her feet. She is graceful despite the rounded swell of her belly.

I reach out and put my hand on her stomach before she can move away. “How is your stomach?”

“I’m great.” Claire’s voice is shy. She puts a hand on each side of her stomach and gives a little wiggle. “Seriously, I feel wonderful. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I am the healer. Let me be the judge of that.” I say, even as I pull my hand away. I do not even need to touch Claire’s skin to know she is in perfect health. Nor is fussy Analay the cause of my worries. It is something else. But what?

With my healing soothing his aches, Analay sleeps in my arms, and Ti-fah-ni comforts the distressed mother. Poor Ar-ee-aw-nuh. I know it worries Zolaya, who cannot help. He spends long hours hunting because it is something he can do, and this just puts more strain on his mate, who is left with a crying child for long hours. No mating is ever perfect, but it is always hardest right after a kit is born. This, I know well. I think of myself and my Kashrem, when it seemed that overnight we went from lazy days in the furs to frantic swaddling changes and very little sleep. The first few turns of the moon are always difficult.

Claire returns a short time later with the herbs, and the women make a broth-and-root mash for Analay while I hold him. The first few bites he takes makes his little face pucker, but he manages to get a small meal down, and when I send my healing through him, I do not feel the gut-ache he normally has. “I think it is working. Perhaps feed some milk and some mash, and slowly you can move him over to mash entirely. He still needs the nutrients from your milk for now.” I hand him back to his mother, who has a relieved look on her thin face. “And always come to get me when he is upset.”

“I didn’t want to bother you,” Ar-ee-aw-nuh says, holding Analay close.

“I am the healer. It is my job to look after everyone.” I smile at her and slowly get to my feet. “And it is only a touch of my hands.”

“But doesn’t it make you tired?”

I am surprised at her question. Of course it makes me tired. Every ounce of healing I give to another is pushing my khui to stretch a bit more, and sometimes it stretches too far. But…it is also my job, as healer. Every untreated wound, I feel in my heart. It is my duty to keep the tribe healthy and strong.

The tribe’s last healer was my mother’s sister, Nashak. She died in the khui-sickness from exhaustion, having extended herself and her khui too far. It was a good death; she died saving her people. I expect the same from myself. I will heal every cut, every wound, every stomach-ache until I can heal no more.

But there is worry in Ar-ee-aw-nuh’s small face. I caress her cheek and send a little surge of healing through the tired mother as well. “I would rather heal little Analay than hear him cry. Would you not, as well?”

She nods slowly, and then gives me a tired smile. “Thank you, Maylak.”

I pat her smooth cheek. “I must go visit others. If he feels badly later, come and seek me out in my cave.”

“I will.”

I caress Ti-fah-ni’s arm as I go, but there is nothing worrying inside her. The kit she carries in her flat stomach is growing every day and she is healthy.

Everyone is healthy. It is both relieving and frustrating at once, because the unease in the back of my mind will not go away.

I visit Mar-layn and Zennek and their small kit. They are healthy. I visit Aehako and his family. Also healthy. I run into a few hunters returning with a midday meal for their mates and come up with foolish reasons to pause them. Each one is healthy. I find Hemalo working his skins in front of the hunters’ cave. He is healthy, if sad.

Everyone
is healthy. So what is it?

I head for the back of the cave, where Asha is now settled with the only unmated human female, Mah-dee. Perhaps there is something troubling Asha. She has been bleak since the death of her little one. My heart aches for her. We were pregnant at the same time, but she gave birth too early, and even my healing could not stop it. Her kit died, born too soon, and Asha withdrew into herself. I gave birth to my Esha months later, and the rift between us was complete. Asha cannot forgive me, I think, for having what she wants so badly.

Today is no different than any other day. Asha is alone in her cave, the fire out. She huddles under the blankets, her eyes open and staring at nothing.

“Asha,” I murmur as I enter. “It is Maylak. May I visit?”

“I do not care,” she says in a toneless voice.

I look around for a seat, but there is nothing I can lower my ungainly body onto easily. “Give me your hand?” I ask, deciding to remain standing.

She rolls onto her back. Her long, dark hair is a messy snarl around her face, and I wonder how long she has lain in bed. Days? A hand of days? She frowns up at me. “Why?”

“Because I am here to check on you,” I tell her bluntly. I extend my hand toward her and wiggle my fingers, indicating my impatience.

“Why does it matter?” Her expression is bitter. “If I am dying, then Hemalo is free. And there is one less mouth to feed for the brutal season.”

I say nothing, because I am not going to argue. She places her hand in mine, and it is strong, though I can feel the sorrow that radiates from her. I want to tell her that there is still pleasure to be found in life, in a mate’s arms, in the simple joys—but it would come from me, pregnant and with another kit back in my cave. She would not listen. And Asha’s mate has abandoned her. So I sigh and release her hand. “Where is your human friend?”

Asha snorts and rolls over. “I am not her keeper.”

I try another tactic. “I saw No-rah with her kits by the fire. She looked to have her hands full. You might offer to help her if you have time today.”

Her eyes narrow at me, but she pushes upright in bed and drags a hand through her hair. “Did she ask for me to help?”

The hope in her voice breaks my heart. “She did not,” I admit. “But I also think she is trying very hard to handle it on her own and is afraid to ask for help. But I think she would appreciate another set of hands.” I rub my belly because my back is starting to ache. “And she likes your company.” I did, too, before everything changed.

Asha stares past me for a moment, thinking. Then she slowly pushes the blankets aside and gets to her feet. “The human is visiting her sister.”

“My thanks.” I do not wait to see if Asha is going to leave her cave. My feet are aching and now my back is, too. I will visit Mah-dee and Li-lah, and then I will return to my own cave, where my mate can fuss over me and I can hug my kit and be glad for my family.

My steps are a little heavier, a little more shuffling as I leave Asha’s cave and head for the small nook that is now the home of Rokan and his Li-lah. They are the newest pair to resonate in our small tribe and have not emerged from their cave much in the last hand of days, busy fulfilling the demands of resonance. I feel a little niggle of dread as I head toward their cave. It is early for something to go wrong with their mating. Li-lah might not even be with kit yet.

I stand outside, listening carefully. Their cave is silent, but the screen is removed from the entrance. Inside, I can hear the cozy crackle of a fire, and see the legs of a pale human seated near it. “May I come in?” I call out.

A moment later, Rokan emerges, unfolding his long body through the tight entrance. “Healer! Come in. You are always welcome at this fire.” He takes my arm and lets me lean on him as I walk in, like I am an elder instead of younger than him. Still, I am grateful for the help. I am increasingly tired and heartsick.

Mah-dee gets up from her stool and offers it to me, and I settle down near the fire. Li-lah immediately dips a cup into the tripod over the fire and offers the drink to me, making a gesture with her hand.

“I am sorry,” I say as I take the cup. “I have not had a chance to go to the Elders’ Cave to learn the hand-speak.” I let my fingertips touch hers as she hands me the cup. Li-lah is healthy…and not yet pregnant. Resonance will take a little longer yet.

“You are with kit,” Rokan says, making gestures with his hands even as he says the words so his mate can “listen.” “No one expects it of you.”

Always so thoughtful, Rokan. I smile at him and sip the tea.

“Besides,” Mah-dee says, doing the same handspeak-and-voice “It’s not like these two are leaving their cave much.” She makes a face at them. “I’d say get a room, but you already have one.”

Li-lah chuckles softly and makes a series of gestures, and Mah-dee snorts, quickly signing back. They gesture for a moment longer and then look at me.

“Lila wants to know if you think it’s a boy or a girl,” Mah-dee says, pointing to my belly. “Or is it impolite to ask?”

“It is not,” I murmur, a smile on my lips. “And I know which it is.”

“You do?” Mah-dee looks impressed. “Is that an alien thing?”

“It is a healer ‘thing’,” I agree.

“Maylak knows things,” Rokan says. “Like I do, but about bodies and wounds and healing.”

Something about that statement makes me pause. It feels significant, but before I can consider, Mah-dee speaks again.

“Lucky you.” Mah-dee makes a little gesture. “So do we get to find out? Boy or girl? There seem to be a lot of baby girls right now.”

I grin. “I will not say. Even my mate does not know.”

“Why not?” Mah-dee tilts her head.

“Because I want to surprise him.” I want to see the joy on his face when our kit is born and it is a male.

“Leverage,” Mah-dee says, and there’s a sly tone in her voice. She looks over at her sister and gestures again.

I do not follow, but that is not unusual when speaking with humans. So I smile politely and drink my tea quickly, draining the cup. Then I lean forward and hold it out to Mah-dee. “May I have more tea? It is very good.”