Page 12 of Sol Survivor

Ulvus’s cheeks paled.“Um…yes?”

“So, if I were to examine it, a tall cucooya tree would be burned into the leather?”Bavu folded his arms across his chest, twisting his face in disbelief.

Ulvus trembled.He opened and closed his mouth, choking on his words.

“Whose symbol is it?”Bavu raised his arms above his head.“Elders and primary males, gather around and share your wisdom.”

Males strode into the circle, studied the water pouch still hanging from Ulvus’s belt, with most raising startled glances to Drafe.

Ulvus stilled.“But—?”

“You wish to defend your actions, young Ulvus?”Umda asked.

Ulvus rocked from side-to-side.“Drafe gave it to me.”

Laughter rippled across the males, for such an event would never occur.A water pouch was as sacred as the symbiotes, passed on from father to son for generations.

“Young Drafe, what say you?”Umda stood firm, gripping his spear’s shaft close to him.

Drafe hesitated.To reveal Ulvus as a thief would cost the male a hand.He could not lie either.With a grimace, he forced the truth past his lips.“It was taken while I rode the vasquva’s back toward the Ki’irinzi Mountains.”

Gasps rippled across the males with Ulvus’s mother wailing in the background.Females held her back.To enter the ring without invitation was suicide.

“Ulvus, you have been judged.”Bavu swept a hand over his shoulder, stating the matter settled.“Umda, he is yours to deal with.”

“No.”Ulvus shoved males aside.“I found them unattended.”

“Them?”Bavu widened his eyes.“You stole more than a pouch?No more lies, Ulvus, or does the loss of more limbs not matter to you?”

“It was but a water pouch, a spear, and two dead garak,” Ulvus muttered, lowering his chin.

“Did you present them to Drafe or Larya when you returned from the hunt?”Bavu pursed his lips when Ulvus said no more.“Very well, failure to accept punishment means banishment for you and your family.Is this acceptable?”

“No.”Ulvus settled his gaze on his mother, raised his head, and trailed Umda.

The village waited.Silence reigned except for the hiss of shifting sands and the howls of the winds as they raced through the tunnels.An agonizing cry pierced the air.As one, the village gasped.The deed was done.The punishment was carried out.

Umda returned, ushering a gray-tinged Ulvus into the circle.He gripped his forearm, with a bloodied cloth wrapped around his wrist.Sweat dewed his temple and saturated his black hair.His eyes were a rich gold and his lips drawn into a narrow line.

Umda held up Drafe’s water pouch.He accepted it with his hand on his chest in thanks.

“The Ivoy have chosen.”Bavu gestured to Ulvus.“They will take you as you are.”

Drafe tried not to show his disappointment.This was as expected.He would try again next year.Squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he envisioned a future in silence.Without Larya, no one would care for him, ensure he ate, or force him to converse.

An Ivoy sliced through the crowds, parting them.He raised a four-fingered hand.When Bavu bowed his head, so did the tribes.

“Ivoyans do not care that you are missing a limb for this is repairable.”His voice was smooth, cool, like trickling water in a deep well.“Your size is what is valuable.But,” his lip curled in derision, “a thief is not tolerated.Continue this dishonorable behavior, and your service will be terminated.You have been warned, Meorri aac Ulvus.”

The Ivoy turned, not waiting for a response from Ulvus, and rested his gaze on Drafe.“Meorri aac Drafe, the Ivoy will accept your service.”The crowd gasped, but he sliced a glance, silencing them.“Your determination, strength of will, and use of strategy makes you a worthy selection.Elder Bavu informs me that you also killed a vasquva, yet here you stand, able to participate in a challenge despite your recent injuries.Commendable.Do you accept?”

Violent emotions bubbled in Drafe’s chest.He struggled to hold back his joy or a wide triumphant smile.“I do.”

“You have a few minutes to bid your loved ones farewell.”The Ivoy strode past his companion and climbed into the craft.

“May I?”Drafe gestured to where Larya bounced on her toes, her smile bright against her dark face.

Bavu pressed a hand to his chest.“You may, Drafe.”

---