Intended Ch. 05

Her lips quavered as she opened her mouth to speak, but no words emerged. Instead she pressed her face to his. Sitting up, she asked, "Will you comb my hair, my thoughtful mate?"

"I thought you would never ask," he smiled, taking the object in his hand.

As he released the tangles from her thick locks, Jakal explained how he procured the tunic from its original owner. Though she gave it to him willingly, hoping only to share his furs in trade, he managed instead to exchange it for an amulet he always carried with him on his travels.

Sala turned around to face him, her eyes wide. "You gave her your tracking talisman? But Jakal, that brings you luck and keeps you safe when you are away from the Camp."

He shrugged. "I am already supposed to carry great luck within me as a Light-Eyed One, and I was not willing to accept the garment without compensation of similar value. Besides," he leaned forward and nibbled an earlobe, "I can acquire another. And if you ask me, it is I who benefited most from the exchange."

When Sala and Jakal entered the Gathering Place proudly displaying their bonding pendants, at once the space overflowed with the buzzing of loud whispers. Many expressed shock, others disapproval. The claims of a few were vindicated. Some anticipated what promised to be an exciting story. All wondered how the Spiritwalker would react to the revelation.

Just as individuals took their first steps toward the guests of honor, the sonorous thunder of drumbeats dominated the air, freezing them into place. Turning their eyes toward the entrance, a procession of solemn men bearing the throbbing percussive instruments streamed into the room, taking position at equal intervals along the perimeter of the hall. With a final, deafening swell, the pulsing cadence echoed in the bodies of all in its wake.

The light dimmed as all the torches were extinguished at once, the fire in the community hearth providing the sole source of illumination. Startled gasps peppered the crowd, and the cry of a few frightened infants pierced the darkened space.

Without further warning a black wolf lurked among them, slinking between their bodies as it prowled the gathering. Anxious children clung to their caregivers, though the young were not the only ones who shivered.

The predator located its target, encircling Sala and Jakal, approaching closer and closer with every revolution. The animal's glittering eyes punctured their spirits as it bared its fangs, ready to strike.

Curling wisps of potent incense twirled around the couple, dispersing into the air as the Spiritwalker, wearing the head and skin of a great wolf, chanted an incantation so foreign, so ancient, it seemed to originate before the time of their ancestors.

Their hands clasped tightly, neither the Light-Eye nor his mate recognized the rite. However, as Sala's ears drew in the spiritual leader's utterances, memories of her lessons flooded forward and she discovered herself capable of translating a few of the phrases.

A curse. He is cursing us, she realized with great alarm. In front of the entire Clan he is damning us both.

"STOP!"

Sala's scream perforated the atmosphere, abruptly silencing the hexing shaman. The otherwise silent room filled with a sharp, collective intake of breath which rippled out through the crowd like a wave when those in attendance identified the object she bore in her outstretched hand.

It was a carving made of ivory, its length extending slightly beyond that of her palm, etched and shaped until it took the form of a fox. With a hole drilled at the top, it was strung through with a thong in order to be worn as an amulet. When viewed from other angles the sculpture took on the image of six more animals: a red deer, an eagle, an aurochs, an owl, a horse and a wolf.

Other than the artist himself, it was virtually unprecedented for anyone other than a spiritual leader to have in their possession a Spiritwalker's talisman. Its magic was simply too powerful, its utility to a shaman too important. Because its loss placed the giver at great risk from malevolent spirits, the item was bestowed upon another so rarely knowledge of its occurrence existed only in legend. And in each of those instances the recipient's need for protection was judged by the Spiritwalker to far exceed her own.

"Child," the spiritual leader began with benevolent astonishment, "I know not why you wield such potent magic before us all."

"You were laying a curse upon us," Sala declared.

"You are mistaken, child," he cooed.

"N-no, I am not," she returned, her confidence wavering as she grew self-consciously aware of the eyes of the entire Clan upon her. No one else understood a single word of his invocation; as when she would eventually bring forth her accusations of his assault, it was her word against his, and he possessed the advantage.

"I was merely expelling any lingering evil from this place in order to ensure the blessing of your union remained untainted," the man explained reasonably. He paused. "Besides, my child, how can you be certain of my words? The rite is quite ancient, one you are unlikely to have heard before."

The woman's heart began to thump once she comprehended the full measure of his accomplishment. Unbeknownst to anyone other than themselves and Jakal, the spiritual leader just confirmed his suspicions that she carried within her the wisdom of the Spiritwalkers.

Interrupting the tense discourse, another voice breached the divide.

"Spiritwalker, Sala. And you as well, Jakal." Keta summoned with great authority. "Please come forward so we might make the announcement."

The host parted, creating a wide path for the trio to traverse. No one understood what had just passed between the woman and their spiritual leader, only that the fervid exchange had been significant.

Unwilling to lose control of the situation again, the Clan Leader decided at that moment to inform her people herself.

"People of Wolf Clan, we gather this night for many reasons. First, to rejoice in the safe return of Jakal and Sala; may our Lead Tracker find his way home swiftly and just as safely. Second, during the course of his meditations the Great Spirits revealed to our spiritual leader that a mating between himself and his Intended would be an ill-matched pairing. As such, he has been forced to sever the bond." She paused, hesitating. "Finally, we are here to acknowledge and celebrate the joining of the two before you." Keta stately gestured toward the young woman and her mate.

The Leader briefly turned her eyes toward the Spiritwalker but could read nothing from his impassive face. He seems to be handling this well, she thought, though she still felt uneasy. Despite his claim that the Spirits had communicated to him prior to the couple's arrival the need to break the bond with the young woman, she harbored some doubt. The revelation's timing was just a little too fortuitous, a little too convenient.

And the interactions between he and the pair conveyed...an intense, negative energy, constantly simmering, always on the verge of boiling over. And for Sala to have in her possession the talisman of Fox Clan's Spiritwalker! From what could she possibly need protection? Whatever it was, the old woman deemed it significant enough to put her own life at risk for the sake of the girl.

Did she imagine it, or did Sala understand the words of the Spiritwalker's chant? Keta had to admit it was nothing she herself had ever heard, let alone comprehended. For a few moments, the young woman appeared confident in her assertion he was casting a curse upon them.

But why would he do so? True, running away and joining with the Light-Eye was highly foolish and a cause for great embarrassment for our spiritual leader, but she is young and impulsive. He has much weightier concerns tending after the spiritual well-being of our people to trouble himself with matters of personal pride. Those of his caste are above such pettiness; at least, they are supposed to be.

I wish Fox Clan lived closer to our Camp; I would seek out Tejed and learn what he knew. The man always displayed an uncanny ability to see beyond the words of others. The more Keta considered the situation before her, the more convinced she became of the importance of learning the truth. She sensed the incident they all just witnessed was only a hint of the spectacle to come. She needed to find out what was going on before it erupted into something less easily contained.

The echo of a single individual clapping rang out into the hall. Keta and the others shifted their gaze, identifying Belak as the source of the applause. Nefa's hands then came together enthusiastically, and, to Sala's surprise and delight, her mother's first mate Kitad joined them. Soon the resonance of their ovation amplified as the rest of the Camp sounded their approval.

The Light-Eyed One, his mate and the Clan Leader relaxed by this display of open acceptance by their people, their eyes beaming with relief. Only the Spiritwalker's expressionless reaction remained an enigma to those present, but within the man a turbulent storm raged.

The woman played the game well, he had to admit, convincing the Light-Eye to join her in the sacred bond. Those of his status were fiercely loved, and just as fiercely guarded by their people.

Though he did not share their adoration for those gifted with the eyes of the Travelers', the shaman possessed the social acumen to understand the danger of coming into direct, open conflict with the Light-Eyed One. True, Spiritwalkers and Clan Leaders held higher ranks, but it was the Light-Eyes who captured the very spirits of their people. The woman's maneuver made it more complicated, more...difficult to dispense with her.

Then again, it wasn't the first time he had to eliminate someone who got in his way, nor contend with a Light-Eye.

The old Spiritwalker's mate, that arrogant crone whose daughter whelped that ungrateful wretch, she thought her bond with the old fool, her knowledge of the sacred magic, would protect her. And she learned, quite painfully, the depth of her delusion. He smiled inwardly.

It had been a stroke of genius, really, choosing poisons which first gave the appearance of a typical passing illness before turning into something serious enough to require his assistance. He had rather enjoyed tending after her, administering beverages which inhibited her ability to communicate and worsened her symptoms. Even though she could not hold them within her for long, he had made them potent enough to achieve the desired effect.

The fear in the woman's eyes when she finally realized she was going to die, and by his hand, the power he felt at that moment was delicious. He saw much of her spirit in the daughter of her daughter, and the opportunity to bend and control that deviant offspring of hers had been irresistible. Of course, he had not counted on the Light-Eye to interfere.

If the Tracker were not the only Light-Eye in this Camp, he would eliminate him as well, just as he had done with that little green-eyed brat six years ago. She thought being born with those damned light eyes of hers made her untouchable, above reproach. The entitled little vermin laughed at him, mocked him repeatedly, disdaining the sanctity of his position. She inherited the conceit from that contemptuous mother of hers, who thought she was so special to have spawned a Light-Eyed One.

Well, he had shown them both. The poor girl drowned in the lake, and everyone thought it was a terrible accident. And her poor, grieving mother. He had tried to soothe her pain with medicinal teas, but she stopped eating and just wasted away... So much for the luck of the Travelers.

Still, he did wonder how his former Intended accomplished such a feat. It was hardly a secret the Tracker evaded the commitment of a permanent union repeatedly. His actions only attracted more to the challenge, hoping to conquer the man's reluctant heart; still, he always stood resolute in his refusal.

Now that he had confirmed the woman carried the sacred knowledge, the shaman considered whether she had influenced the man through trickery. Although stealing only subtle glances at the smiling couple, nonetheless he studied them closely. He soon ruled out a passionless transaction; from what he could discern from their body language, the bond they shared was genuine. Though love was not an emotion to which he himself fell victim, he observed it often enough in others to recognize its debilitating effect on those who might otherwise be strong.

A moment of consternation passed before a spark of inspiration flashed: He would use that very connection to his advantage. Precisely how, he could not yet determine. He knew only that when love came into play, people always exposed their greatest weaknesses.

Among the sea of well-wishers an older man with thinning hair shot with gray approached the young woman and enveloped her in a heartfelt embrace.

"Sala," he greeted warmly, "it is good to see you again, child of my hearth. I worried a great deal while you were gone, and am relieved you made it safely home." He held her at arm's length and beheld her appreciatively. "You are beautiful this night. Not that you are not always lovely."

She flushed with the compliment. "Thank you Kitad. It is also good to see you again. I am sorry I have not spoken to you before now. Since our return, much has occupied our time. I do wish to thank you for...supporting us earlier. We were not certain how we would be received, given the circumstances."

With a flick of his hand he brushed away her comment. "There is no need for thanks. I would hope by now you would know my support is unconditional. Though we may no longer share formal ties since your mother and I severed the bond, you will always be a child of my hearth."

Sala's lips trembled as tears pooled in her eyes, ready to flow. She leaned forward and kissed the man.

Patting her reassuringly on the back, Kitad continued heartily. "So, the Light-Eyed One. Many have tried to be in your position, but none succeeded until you." His eyes twinkled as he grinned, full of pride. Then, more seriously, he moved toward her and whispered in her ear. "Others may believe you are the fortunate one in this pairing, but I know better. He is lucky to have you."

This time her tears fell freely. Gently wiping her wet cheeks with his finger, the older man clasped a strong hand on her shoulder. "Now, what is this? I did not intend to make you weep; this is a night of celebration."

Taking Sala into his comforting arms once more, again he whispered in her ear. "I am not sorry your...arrangement with our spiritual leader was called off. You deserve happiness, and I knew you would not find it in that union."

The young woman squeezed him tightly. She forgot sometimes how much she loved her mother's first mate. Making a decision, she whispered, "Kitad, will you join Jakal and me in his dwelling the day after this one for the evening meal? There is something...important I wish to tell you."

The tone of her voice communicated the significance of the request. "Of course. It would be an honor to share a meal with you and your new mate."

A group of men surrounded the Tracker congratulating him on his long-awaited mating.

"I must admit, I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen, Light-Eye," one of them teased, to the robust laughter of the rest.

"She does have a strong will. I suppose it makes sense you would bond with one as stubborn as yourself," another joked as they all guffawed.

"Your woman is...quite alluring in that garment of hers. If you seek a third this night, I wish to volunteer my services."

The group burst into a bout of fresh laughter.

"Should you wish for a real man, I offer my talents."

"She herself must possess incredible talent between the furs to convince you to join with her," a feminine voice cut in, silencing their playful banter, "considering how many before unsuccessfully attempted the same goal."

Startled, the circle of men turned their attention toward the source of the acerbic comment. A busty woman dressed in a heavily beaded tunic, the top of which left little to the imagination, slunk forward.

Her friendly smile at odds with the sharpness of her words, she continued, holding out her hands, "I tease you, Light-Eyed One. Congratulations."

Hesitantly, Jakal grasped her forearms in greeting.

Leaning in, she pressed her cheek against his and murmured, "I trust your new mate is not a wholly selfish woman. It is bad enough her actions kept you from us for so long a time. It would do an even greater disservice to your people should she jealously choose to keep you to herself."

The Tracker broke contact and stepped away from her. Keeping his voice low, he responded, "You hold more than one misconception, Veba. For one, it is I who convinced Sala to join with me, not the other way around. It is also I who desired to maintain an exclusive relationship between the furs. Not that any of this should concern you; it has been quite some time since we shared pleasures of the body."

Though he spoke quietly, the eyes of those closest to the couple widened at his brazen reply. Whatever it was she said, the woman must have greatly offended him to be addressed in such a manner, particularly in public.

Struggling to maintain her composure, Veba rotated her hips and threw back her shoulders. Jutting her chin in a show of pride, she announced, "If you will excuse me, there are many who await my company." Casting a withering glance at the Light-Eye, she strode away.

The levity of their previous conversation evaporated, Jakal excused himself and sought out his mate. He found her chatting with Essa and Ritol, her face glowing with radiance, and his eyes captured a glimpse of the otherworldly beauty her spirit revealed to him the night they visited the Spirit World. As he slipped an arm around her waist, Sala snuggled into him.

Leaning down he suckled an earlobe. "Are you enjoying your gathering this night, my magnificent woman?"

He felt her smile against his cheek. "I am enjoying our celebration, yes. And you?"

He paused at first. No, they could discuss Veba later. Sala deserved a night of joy with those of her Clan. He knew she considered herself a bit of an outsider; it was good for her to see that she, too, was loved by their people. "I am. But I am certain I will find even greater pleasure remaining by your side."

It was late when the two mates arrived at Jakal's dwelling. After quickly adding logs to the banked fire, the hearth soon blazed, gradually heating the space. The stone lamps emitted a warm, diffuse light which also seemed to curb the chill of the night air.

In the sleeping area, the man removed his clothing as Sala pulled her tunic up and over her head. Stopping to admire the feminine curves of her body, he asked, "Have I mentioned this night how beautiful you are?"

Though the light was dim he knew she blushed. Her unpretentious, almost timid shyness, contrasted with her wild unrestraint in...other areas nearly consumed him with his desire for her.

"Once or twice." She paused, her eyes lighting up playfully. "Though, if you feel you must repeat yourself..."

Before she could finish, Jakal swept her into his arms and silenced her with his kiss. He explored her mouth fully with his tongue, as if discovering her for the first time. When their lips finally parted Sala gasped; it was as if the totality of his emotions had been conveyed in that single kiss. As that first time under the waterfall, his touch made her legs feel weak.

Almost as if he read her mind the man lifted her off her feet, carrying her to the plush furs. Lowering her into their soft embrace, he gazed at her lovingly before taking his place beside her. He lifted her chin and began mouthing the sensitive skin beneath it.