Page 34 of Caveman Alien's Touch

I feel Bronwen’s eyes on me. But Unin’iz is dead and gone, and nothing good can come from tales of his dishonor.

Sarker’ox sends me a quick glance. “There was blood on his sword, and you still have a cut on your leg.”

I help him place another piece of wood on the heap. “Very strange. No doubt it was old blood from some previous hunt.”

Sarker’ox puts his hands on his hips. “It was fresh. I would not put it past Unin’iz to have acted with less than perfect honor during the race. I noticed the dangerous way he drew his sword before the game started. And the men who were watching the race in the jungle have given me puzzling reports of his behavior?—”

“Perhaps,” I state with finality, cutting him off, “it would be better if we let the dead keep their secrets. The game is over, and I lost. But I think we all won the battle that came after, despite the heavy loss of life.”

“You may be right,” Sarker’ox says. “Mostly thanks to you and Brak. I have ordered food to be prepared for everyone, Bronwen. Please take Noker inside the wall and make sure he’s well fed! He must be tired, having competed in a full game of penk and then battled the swarm.”

Bronwen takes my hand and pulls me along into the village. “You not want the tribe to know about Unin’iz.”

“The tribe has had enough to struggle with today,” I tell her. “Don’t think that everyone is happy about the game of penk or the battle against the swarm. Many would have preferred it if a Borok man had been on that lowest step instead of me.”

“Then more would have died,” Bronwen says with her clear voice. “They can’t wantthat.”

I just smile. Of course this wonderful woman is too pure to see that many Borok men still want me gone, along with Brak. And seeing us two gain more honor in the defense of their village is not going to sit well with everyone. Especially since we are always around the women.

We eat a quick snack by the totem wall, then make our way up the Mount. Slowly, because my legs feel as tired and useless as rotting vines.

The mood is subdued because of the dead Borok men. Piper and Brak are sitting close together, Brak still dirty with the juice that sprayed during the battle.

I gaze out at the jungle. I don’t spot the swarm until I close my eyes. It’s a blurry patch moving slowly away, along the track left by the skarp. It stretches all the way to the ocean, but I have no idea what the swarm will do when it gets there.

“In a day or two, it will not be much fun to be on that beach.” Brak’s voice echoes my thought. “I think the swarm is following the skarp’s tracks. They will lay eggs in every living thing.”

“Hopefully they’ll get the outcasts,” I mutter and open my eyes. “So they can’t bother the clan.”

“That’s too much to hope for,” my clansbrother says. “We should return to our clan soon and check on them. And we must move the camp to the new place. Before then, I want to take Dexer out to look for new Foundlings.”

Bronwen picks up a shiny disk and looks up at the afternoon sun. “I wonder if Bryar and Korr’ax are on way here. Maybe they see the smoke and wonder.”

“We can try to signal them with that mirror,” Piper says. “Just don’t set fire to the forest with it.”

“We can wait until jungle in darkness and only the Mount sees the sun,” Bronwen says as she carefully puts the mirror down. “Sun will be red and not burning.”

I breathe out. Here I am in a triber village, in a high spot reserved for the tribe’s chief and his friends, looking out at the jungle and even having the company of women. Just a few weeks ago, that would have seemed as far-fetched and impossible for me as putting my spear between my legs and riding it to the moon Yrf. And then Bronwen on top of it all, and the incredible experiences with her! I get so dizzy I have to steady myself on my spear.

Shaman Melr’ax comes out of the cave, walking slowly with his cane. “Young Noker, I hear you saved the tribe from the swarm.”

“Brak helped,” I tell him, gathering my wits. “And the tribers, too. I wasn’t alone.”

The old man squints up at me. “Always remain this humble, brother Noker. But know in your heart what your worth is. For it is high. Am I not right, Bronwen?”

“Noker is great warrior,” Bronwen chirps. “And kind also. He likes to keep others safe. But he has secrets that he keeps, I think.”

“Precisely,” Melr’ax chuckles. “You see it as clearly as I do. But I have known him his whole life, whereas you only met him yesterday. Have you invited her to our camp, Noker? Surely she would love to see it.”

“Well,” I hesitate. “The camp is nowhere near as fine as this village…”

“Perhaps let Bronwen decide that,” Melr’ax creaks. “But first let her decide whether she will see it or not. She still awaits your invitation.”

Bronwen raises her delicate eyebrows, and there’s a little smile on her fine lips.

“Would you like to come and see the camp?” I ask quickly. “I can show you the plants I told you about. Perhaps they are useful to you.”

“I’d love to see it,” Bronwen says easily. “Piper has told about it. Sounds dangerous, so not pull me high up in the trees, please.”

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