Climate of Change (16 page)

“I can't say I am. He's too young, and hardly taller than I am.”

“But he does have a way with animals, and he understands plants.”

“What's to understand about a plant?”

“If you get sick, he knows which ones can help. If you can't find regular forage, he knows which ones can be eaten if properly harvested and prepared. He has helped others that way.”

“All of which makes him seem like an old woman.”

Rebel shrugged. Some women didn't appreciate gentleness or foraging ability in a man. It was stupid, but she understood it, because she was one of those women. She was Keeper's sister, and felt a kind of responsibility for him, but were she not his sister she would as readily dismiss him. Only as his sister could she appreciate his worthwhile qualities. Crenelle was Rebel's age, and could hardly be blamed for being less impressed with a younger man. Yet the two would indeed be good for each other.

They proceeded with their butchery, stripping the good hide and dismembering the carcass. These things took time to do properly, and they took that time, though Rebel was suppressing the urge to flee. She knew that the Others would be on their way.

Indeed they were. Three men came striding across the plain, not trying to conceal themselves. They had spied illicit hunters, and were coming to punish the poachers.

“Take what you can, and flee,” Rebel said tersely.

“To the nearest forest,” Crenelle agreed.

Rebel bundled the hide, and Crenelle took a haunch. The rest they had to leave. “It seems a shame to do all this work, and leave it to the Others,” Rebel said.

“But if our plan is successful, we'll be able to come back for it.”

They ran. The Others were now uncomfortably close. But the women had gauged it so that they would be able to reach the forest first. If they miscalculated, there would be mischief indeed. But it had to be played close enough to allay suspicion.

Soon they were panting, and the Others were closing the gap. “Ditch the meat!” Rebel cried.

“Ditch the hide!” Crenelle retorted. But in a moment they both dumped their loads in the interest of increased speed. Perhaps the stuff would distract the pursuers.

It didn't. The Others were well aware of what came first: dealing with the enemy. Now the sound of their rough breathing was audible, as they continued to gain.

The two women reached the forest and got under the cover of the
trees. The Others came right after them, having no fear of trees. They were frighteningly fast on their feet. In a moment they would catch hold of the women. They might even catch on to their nature, and commence raping designed to inflict maximum pain and injury. It was probably just a spook story, but Others were said to have ripped human women open by the size and force of their penetration, leaving their hips disjointed.

There was a thud and a scream. Rebel turned her head to see. One Other was down, and the two remaining were pausing, glaring around to locate the source of the mischief.

That was Harbinger's spear. He had hurled it from ambush and caught the Other in the side. Now he was lifting another spear. There was no sign of Keeper or the dogs.

The two Others charged the man. That allowed Rebel and Crenelle to slow, catching their breath. The first part of their plan had worked; now the three Others were two. The third man was not dead, but he was evidently not in any condition to fight.

Harbinger hurled his second spear. His aim was good, but the Other dodged it. Now Harbinger had no spear, while the Others still had theirs.

“Get out of there, brother!” Crenelle whispered. She knew, as Rebel did, that Harbinger would be no match for even one armed Other.

Harbinger turned and fled, with the two Others in pursuit. He could run faster than the women could, so the gap between them did not close rapidly. The Others did not throw their spears, preferring to run him down rather than risk a miss of an unevenly moving target. Others were very conservative fighters, and deadly because of it. Meanwhile Rebel and Crenelle were making their way swiftly through the forest to the next planned rendezvous. Because one Other down was not enough; they needed to take out another, before they could feel confident of victory.

They came to the spot, and hid behind a large tree, holding their bolas ready. The man was leading the Others in a wide circle back to this spot. This was the second ambush point. It was a natural path passing between large trees.

They heard the men coming. Harbinger was running well, and Rebel admired that, but the Others were running better, and were now close behind him. Soon one would throw his spear, and it would score.

Then the three dogs charged out from the opposite side of the path, growling. They passed right by Harbinger and closed on the Others. They were trained to attack only strangers, and their night with Harbinger had made him familiar.

The Others paused, plainly astonished. Wolves did not attack men! But they readied their spears to handle this new menace. Here, again, their caution proved this value: they were ready for this unexpected menace.

A spear flew from the side. That was Keeper, using his spear-thrower from out of sight. The range was too far and it missed, but it made the Others pause again. Another enemy? How many were there? That gave the dogs time to close on them.

The Others were no cowards. They held their spears, facing the dogs. But when they made ready to throw, the dogs growled and scattered. The Others stared, surprised again. This was not wolf behavior.

“Now,” Rebel murmured. The two women emerged from concealment as the Others were facing away. They were quite close, because of the choice of location and cover. They threw their bolas at the nearest Other.

One bola wrapped around the man's head and arms. The other wrapped around his legs. He made an exclamation of amazement and dismay, fighting the strange attacker. The dogs, seeing him incapacitated, turned and charged from three directions.

Keeper emerged with his second spear. He hurled it at the entangled man, who was unable to dodge. The spear caught him in the chest. He groaned and went down. The dogs pounced on him, going for any likely spot. He was done for.

The third Other stared for a moment at Keeper, not understanding the mechanism of the spear-thrower. Then he hurled his spear at Keeper. But he was beyond effective range, and Keeper was alert; he was able to dodge it. The Other had made a tactical mistake, being distracted by the odd attacks.

The Other drew his knife and charged Keeper. But Keeper called to the dogs, and they left off their attack and bounded back toward him. Meanwhile Harbinger was running back, his own knife drawn, and the two women were also advancing. Because the women were emulating men, this made the group seem like four men and three wolves closing on one man.

The Other, realizing that the odds had changed, reversed his course and ran back the way he had come—right at Harbinger, who tried to turn and orient. The Other was on him in a moment, striking with his closed left hand, hard, more rapidly than a man could move. Harbinger was rocked back, jarred but not hurt. He tripped and fell on his back.

The Other ran on so swiftly that none of them could stop him, or catch him. He was gone. Keeper did not let the dogs pursue him; they were likely to get killed by themselves.

“But we got two of them,” Rebel cried with satisfaction. She caught Harbinger, who was just sitting up, and kissed him hard on the mouth. Then she was up and away, leaving him bemused.

“I think now they will leave,” Crenelle said. “Not just because one man is not enough to hold the territory. Because of the way we did it, with the bolas and the dogs and the spear-thrower. They don't understand these things, and they avoid what they don't understand. That third one will carry the word back, and they will go.”

Harbinger nodded. “These are good things.”

Well satisfied, they saw to the mopping up. The entangled Other was dead in grisly fashion. They stripped him of anything useful and left the body there for his kin to find. The other Other was alive, but gravely wounded; Harbinger dispatched him with a swift spear throw from close range. They stripped him similarly, and went on to recover the beest hide and meat. It had been a very good day.

They hauled the meat to the boats, now able to take all of it. When Rebel worked beside Keeper, she spoke quietly to him. “Would you like to have Crenelle?”

“Yes!” There was evidently no doubt in his mind.

“I may be able to steer her to you. Take whatever she offers.”

“I will. She's—she's almost as good as you are.”

Rebel flushed, caught by surprise. But it was a fair comparison, for she and Crenelle did seem to have more than age in common. If Keeper desired a woman who was similar to his wild sister, Rebel was flattered.

By the time they got everything back to the house, the day was fading. They cooked and ate some of the meat, and settled down for the night. Harbinger, fatigued from his hard running, was the first asleep. He was lying prone, snoring, with only his cloak as a cover.

Rebel caught the attention of the other two and made a signal of silence. Crenelle and Keeper looked at her perplexed, and did not speak. This had been a day of such adventure that they were perhaps numb to one more oddity. Rebel took thongs and knelt beside the sleeping man. Slowly, carefully, she lifted his arms behind him, and bound his wrists together. Then she did the same for his feet. She made sure the knots were secure; he was helpless. And still sound asleep.

Keeper and Crenelle watched, not comprehending her purpose. Crenelle's hand was on her knife; she would act if Rebel threatened actual harm to her brother. Brownback lay quietly, but he was watching the woman; he knew what a knife was, too, and he would attack it if it came near Rebel. But for the moment Crenelle was mostly curious what the point was. Keeper, however, was just beginning to understand that this related to what Rebel had told him privately.

Then Rebel stripped away her clothing and approached the sleeping man again. She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him over. She tore open his loose cloak, laying his body open to view. His eyes flickered open.

“Now you are mine,” she said, taking hold of his penis and kneading it, forcing it to react. She knelt and brought her face to his, kissing him. “You are helpless. I will possess you, and you can't resist.” She lay against him, pressing her torso against his, flattening her breasts against his chest. “You can do nothing. You are subject to my will—this first time.”

Now Crenelle caught on. She licked her lips, half smiling.

Then Rebel set herself on him, and guided his erect penis into her. Brownback watched, but was aware that the woman was not the one being attacked. The dogs had seen sex often enough, and didn't care.
Rebel pushed down with her belly while kissing him again. “I am raping you,” she said, lifting her body slightly, then jamming down hard. “You may struggle, but you can't escape me. I will have my will of you.”

And in a moment she did. She felt him pulsing within her. That sensation set her off, and her own climax came, long and slow and delicious. She kissed him repeatedly, savoring it. He did not try to avoid any of it.

When at last she cooled, he was limp. But she wasn't quite through with him. “Now I will release you, if you promise not to flee. This rape has been accomplished, and we are married. Do you accept it?”

For the first time, he spoke. “Yes.” He had accepted the reverse rape in lieu of the regular one.
She
had not been raped, and never would be.

She got off him and rolled him back over. She untied his hands, and then his feet. She glanced across at Crenelle and Keeper, almost hidden in the darkness. “And you two witnessed this. Rape and marriage. It is done.”

“Yes,” Crenelle agreed, her voice sounding awed.

“Yes,” Keeper said, similarly awed. He had seen his sister indulge in wild moments, but this was beyond any past exploit.

Rebel lay beside Harbinger, holding his hand. She had accomplished her primary purpose. What about the secondary one?

“Do you want me to rape you similarly?” Crenelle asked Keeper, humor in her voice.

“Yes.”

“Forget it. You will have to do your own raping. I am not that desperate.”

“I almost could, if you wanted it.”

“No. You are too young for me. But that scene got me hot. I will be with you, this night, without marriage.”

“Yes.” No hesitancy there.

She started to embrace him, but the third dog, Toughtail, growled warningly. “You will have to put aside the knife,” Keeper said.

“Done.” Crenelle set her knife down beside Whitepaw, who eyed it warily.

Then the two of them were at it, while Rebel lay beside Harbinger.
So she had indeed succeeded there too, to a degree. She had known Crenelle would like the reverse rape, and be sexually excited by it. There really was no person for her to turn to except Keeper. But women were unpredictable, so Crenelle's decision had been in doubt.

“Do you want more?” Rebel asked Harbinger.

“Not right now.”

“You don't mind that I'm barren?”

“Not now.”

She snuggled against him, and they slept. In the night she dreamed, not of sex, but of what they had accomplished. They had organized in a way the dull Others could not, and used all their resources to conquer their enemy. Because of weapons made by Craft and taught to herself and Keeper. Craft could make anything he set his mind to. But he lacked the time to do a lot, because of the other requirements of living.

But suppose he could spend his whole time doing what he loved, making things? How much more could he accomplish? Suppose Hero could spend his whole time hunting and fighting; how good at it would he get? And Haven, who liked cooking and other dull chores; suppose she could cook all the time, freeing women like Rebel to do what they most liked? She could dance naked all the time for gaping men, making them eager to plumb their mates. What a wonderful life it would be!