The Lord of the Plains (64 page)

Riley wasn’t paying attention. Disconnected
images flicked past. She wanted to get this done as fast as
possible.

Something hard hit her temple. She turned,
startled. Her head throbbed painfully. She blinked back tears of
startled pain.

Images rushed her. What had happened, where
had it come from?

Something hard and painful collided with her
forehead. She raised a hand to her head. Children came into focus,
that swarm of thieving pests.

The swarm no longer surrounded her. They
were gathered in a buzzing, cackling group not far away, pointing
at her. She spotted a hand clutched around something. Another arm
raised. Something grey and small flying through the air…

Pain exploded in her shoulder.

They were throwing rocks at her!

And cackling like… like horrible little
gemeng children throwing
rocks
at her!

Running away did not occur to her. Riley
stalked over to them, her brows drawn down in anger.

‘Stop that! Get away!’ and she swatted at
the swarm like she had so many times this week. All that did was
send them scattering, laughing around her. And they kept throwing
rocks. Stinging pain exploded all over her, it was a constant
barrage.

Riley angrily grabbed one of the children
and stole his rocks. He cursed and bit her and she shoved him
away.

The adults were roaring with laughter.

She caught another child and unarmed it. The
torrent of stones continued.

She spotted a child carrying a woven basket.
It was full of dirt covered roots and bulbs. Soon that joined her
collection too, and she dumped her rocks in it.

‘Give it back!’ the child demanded
shrilly.

‘Go get it from her, go get it from her!’
the other children taunted.

The child threw herself at Riley. She bit
and kicked and scratched. ‘Give it back, slave! Give it back,
slave!’

Riley shoved her away, but of course she
just came back.

Riley angrily broke free of the grip of the
child and stalked back towards the river camp. If she had hoped
that would end the farce, she was wrong. The children followed. The
rain of rocks continued.

It didn’t take long to reach the river.
Riley felt a rush of relief when the grasses parted to reveal the
river.

But the children followed, their smelly,
loud, rock throwing selves breaking the peace of the river.

Suddenly they fell silent. Riley, surprised,
looked to see what had stopped them.

The only other thing besides grass and water
was Aerlid.

His dark, moonlit eyes were locked on the
children.

The tableau lasted only a second before the
children suddenly turned and ran back to their own camp.

Riley’s eyes narrowed. How come he could
scare them off and yet she couldn’t? He hadn’t severed anyone’s
head. He hadn’t rendered the entire tribe defenceless and gotten
them into this mess.

‘Here.’ she said and handed the basket to
Aerlid. ‘There’s food in the bottom.’

She moved past him and settled by the
river.

Aerlid glanced down at the rock filled
basket. Then he looked up. Riley was inspecting herself. She didn’t
have a single bruise. But she could feel every spot a rock had hit
her.

‘You know they’ll find more rocks.’

Her only response was an annoyed grunt.

After that, Riley avoided being seen
whenever she went into the tribe’s camp. Mostly, that meant she
went during the night instead of the day. The nights weren’t much
cooler than the days, though they were quieter.

The days drifted by, each much the same as
the last. She watched and noted much as she always did. Mostly, she
paid attention to how the adults treated the children. Clearly, she
needed some tips.

She learnt the name of the tribe. It was
known simply as Gakra’s tribe. As Gakra happened to be the leader
of the tribe it wasn’t terribly creative. Aerlid explained that
when a new person took over the tribe the name of the tribe would
change accordingly. Everything about life here was bound up in
whoever happened to be in command at that moment.

The adults were tough on the children, but
when compared with how they treated each other, they positively
spoiled them. Fighting was allowed, and even encouraged among the
children, though she had seen on more than one occasion an adult
break up a fight that was getting too serious. Even adults who
weren’t related to the children would break up a fight. Adults had
names and titles, such as Gakra the Fierce. Children didn’t have
their own names. By their parents they were referred to by order of
birth. Firstboy, Firstgirl and so on. Other adults referred to them
by their parents, such as Gakra’s boy. On occasion, they were
called foolish one or strong one.

Hidden in tents, lived the other children,
children who were too weak to chase her around and throw rocks at
her. Riley only discovered them by careful spying. Why the gemengs,
who only appeared to value strength, took care of the weak
children, Riley didn’t know.

There were a surprising number of hidden
ones. There seemed as many, or more of them than healthy children.
She also discovered that most of the gemengs didn’t have any
children at all. The healthy children belonged to only a handful of
couples.

Riley was currently observing a family unit
from the safety of the long grass. She was familiar with this
family. Tonight the mother and three of the healthy children were
sitting outside their tent. Inside, Riley knew, was the father and
a sickly child that rarely left the tent.

When she heard a voice raised in derision
and anger she immediately assumed it was directed at her. She felt
a moment of alarm. How had they discovered her? But then she
noticed where the group was looking. They glanced over their
shoulders, in the direction of the central campfire. Noise and
smells would rise from the central campfire long into the night.
The adults gathered around, eating and telling stories or just
insulting one another.

The family turned back to their own meal.
The low murmur of their talk resumed.

Suddenly a scream shattered the peace. The
group didn’t even twitch. However they did pay attention when a
dark shape suddenly erupted from the grass and darted through their
dinner.

Riley merely needed to round this tent and
another to find herself in the common area. There was the fire,
carefully dug and prepared so it wouldn’t set the grasslands
alight. It cast flickering light into the darkness. A ring of
gemengs sat around it, and further away other loose groups. Tents
or merely cloaks (not everyone had a tent) were set up in a circle
around the space. Above the red light of the fire, cold dark night
loomed. Stars stood out starkly, like distant jewels.

A gemeng lay thrashing on the ground.
Another loomed above. The smell of blood was thick in the air.

Riley observed all this. And then she turned
and ran.

When she returned with Aerlid in tow the
situation had changed so much she was momentarily disoriented. She
thought for a moment she had gotten lost, as unlikely as that was.
Then she spotted a large, dark wet stain in the dirt.

And yet nobody was paying any mind. The fire
crackled and sizzled. There was a shout of laughter, the loud hum
of many people talking at once.

‘What happened?!’ Riley demanded.

Suddenly heads turned. Contemptuous, cold,
hard gazes were fixed on her. There was an ominous silence to them.
No jokes or taunts this time.

She was all too aware of the change. Into
the empty silence she called, ‘what happened to the one who was
lying here?’ her voice echoed hollowly.

‘Is the slave upset?’ growled a gravelly
voice.

‘Did the slave want to bandage up the dead
one?’

‘Doesn’t it know what
real
warriors
do to those who insult them?’

‘How would that thing know? It doesn’t know
what a warrior is!’

Riley’s head pounded. Sweat stood out on her
skin, though it was cool tonight. She was keenly aware of the
gemengs surrounding her, of the smell of blood still in the
air.

One of the gemengs pointed off into the
grasses, away from the camp. ‘The dead one is out there! He’s wolf
food now.’

‘He’s dead.’ she stated. It was not a
question.

‘Cowardly and dumb!’

‘Why?’ she demanded, anger creeping into her
voice. ‘Who?’

One of the many rolled to its feet. Riley
watched as the large creature stalked over to her. It was tall.
Taller than Riley. Even taller than Aerlid. It took Riley a moment
to realize it was a woman.

‘
I.’
The woman ground out. ‘Reklash
the Strong! The dead one insulted me.’ The woman’s lips spread in a
slow smile.

There was blood spattered across her animal
skins. Some old.

Some new.

Riley stared at this huge, smelly, monster.
There was a string of claws around her neck. Different shapes.
Stained, chipped. Riley’s eyes lingered on a curved claw, resting
near the woman’s shoulder. Fresh blood glistened in the fire
light.

‘Would you like to insult me too?’ Hatred
burned in the woman’s little black eyes. Sharp, thin teeth
protruded from her mouth.

She’s a murderer,
Riley thought. And
yet… did no one care?

The woman’s eyes flicked to Aerlid. ‘The
dead one was once mine, then it became a warrior. You understand.
If yours ever becomes a warrior, you would behave honourably.’ And
she nodded at Aerlid, as if recognizing him as worthy of
respect.

Aerlid said nothing.

Riley gaped. ‘What did he say to you?’ she
gasped.
Her child?!

‘He said I smelt funny.’ and she wrinkled
her nose.

‘Funny.’ Riley said flatly in disbelief.
Her child!
’You don’t smell funny, you smell terrible.’

She didn’t have time to react as the woman
raked her claws across her face and throat. Riley’s head snapped
sideways. The left side of her face and neck felt like they were on
fire. Shock and pain and everything made her respond very slowly.
She turned her head and contemplated this woman who had just tried
to kill her. Might have. Riley raised a hand to her face. There was
no blood.
I could kill her
, Riley thought. But what would
that prove?

By the standards of the Plains, Reklash
wasn’t a murderer. What she had done was not even worth commenting
upon.

There was nothing Riley could to her that
would mean anything.

Riley turned. She walked away from the camp,
Aerlid by her side.

He didn’t say anything.

What was there to say?

Back by the river camp it was quieter,
cooler.

‘Why are we protecting them from another
tribe,’ Riley mumbled. ‘They don’t need another tribe to kill them.
They do it themselves, over the slightest thing. I’m surprised
there are any left.’

‘I imagine there are certain rules about who
you can kill and when,’ Aerlid murmured.

‘Yes, do whatever you like to whoever’s
weaker than you.’
He was her child.

She didn’t
understand
. She had
watched parents take care of their children, even the weak ones.
Could Reklash just be a tragic anomaly? But then, why had no one
reacted?

Aerlid continued talking, ‘Well, I imagine
the weaker members of the tribe are careful enough that the death
rate doesn’t get too high. But I agree, they are a brutal and
unpleasant people.’

‘Aerlid,’ Riley interjected. ‘I don’t
understand.’ And she explained her confusion to him.

Aerlid fell silent for a moment. ‘Perhaps
that doesn’t mean anything after they become warriors. Maybe she
didn’t think of him as her child anymore.’ he guessed.

‘They’d tear me to pieces if they could.’
she mumbled. ‘And leave me to the wolves.’