Every Man's Fantasy Ch. 02

They heard a 'twang' and a thump. Two birds fell out of the sky, transfixed by arrows.

One bird lay in the clearing ten yards in front of Tamar, who looked from behind a large fern to try to see who had shot the arrow. A girl ran up to the fallen pigeon. She was holding the other pigeon with the arrow still embedded. She bent to pick up the second bird when Tamar stepped out of her cover and said:

"Hello, Miss Woodlander."

The girl shot up, looking fearful. She glanced over her shoulder, prepared to run away when two older women joined her. They held bows and, seeing Tamar, loaded their arrows but did not take aim.

"Who are you, child?" It was the older one who spoke, a muscular black woman in a grey cotton cloak and a green peaked cap.

"My name is Tamar."

"Are you alone?"

"No, I'm with two friends, Madam."

"You have friends? Where are they? Show yourselves!" she demanded loudly.

The wind or an animal rustled a bush behind Tamar but no one appeared.

The women trained their arrows on the bush.

"Madam, we are no danger to you," Tamar assured them. "Wildchild and I just want to pass peacefully through the forest. Our companion, Ezra, is hurt and needs medicine."

"If that's true, tell your friends to show themselves."

The young Woodlander girl had taken refuge behind the two armed women and, behind her, Tamar saw a familiar shape. She turned to address the bush:

"Wildchild, I think we're safe, you can come out."

The archers aimed their weapons on the bush and pulled the strings back. There was a whistle from behind them. All three span around to see Wildchild standing with her arms akimbo, the hunting knife safely in its holster. Clearly she did not think they were a threat to her. They proved she was right when they lowered their bows.

At that moment, Ezra caught up with his companions, not knowing what had passed. He pushed through the ferns, calling out "Tamar, Wildchild?"

The Woodlanders watched in wonder as an actual man emerged from the forest into the dappled light of the glade. Ezra was clearly a man, even the Woodlander girl could see that. He was taller than any woman they had ever seen. His hair (though longer than he normally wore it) did not reach his shoulders and he had two days' growth of beard.

"Oh! Hello," Ezra said. "I'm Ezra. You must be Woodlanders."

There was no answer. The miracle of finding a man rendered them speechless. Ezra looked quizzically at Tamar and Wildchild.

Tamar walked over to Ezra and took his hand. "Will you take us to your camp please?" she asked.

The black woman nodded. Then she found her voice, saying to the young Woodlander girl:

"Carlin, run back to the camp and tell them we're bringing some guests. You don't need to tell them Ezra is a man. They won't believe you, anyway."

"I am Sharne, this is Dagma." She indicated her companion, a short, stocky woman with black hair and, at present, an angry look.

"How did you get here?" Sharne asked Ezra.

"I crash-landed. Wildchild and Tamar rescued me. They brought me here but I am a slow walker at the moment. How far is it to your camp?"

"A few miles, Ezra. I'll help you."

"Thank you."

It was a while before they reached the camp where, alerted by Carlin, some of the tribeswomen had come out to greet their guests. The first ones to see Ezra stopped in silence. Those behind on the narrow path bumped into those in front. The babble stopped when the women at the back also saw Ezra.

"Let us through, please Ladies," Sharne ordered. They cleared a path and Ezra, Wildchild and Tamar saw the Woodlander Camp for the first time.

There was a large open space beside a small stream. Within it was a circle of wooden huts with palm-leaf roofs. Within that was a circle of rough wooden benches; and in the middle of everything was a pile of logs for a large camp-fire. All the wooden huts were about eight feet square, except one, which was twice the size and stood on a wooden platform that extended as a dais into the circle.

On the side of the camp opposite the stream was a meadow in which a scrawny-looking cow chewed contentedly. There was a wooden shelter in one corner of the meadow. Next to the meadow was a fenced off yard with a chicken coop. Here the ground was bare - the result of incessant pecking by a squadron of hens and a cockerel. Further along were cultivated fields of perhaps an acre or more. The stumps of felled trees and clean-cut limbs on living trees indicated the efforts the Woodlanders made to keep the forest from encroaching on their camp.

Despite help from Sharne, Ezra was near collapsing when they reached the camp and he had to take a rest on a bench. The women crowded about him, whispering among themselves or asking Sharne and Dagma questions. No one took much notice of Tamar or Wildchild. Then there was silence. The Woodlander chief, Mirselene, approached. She had waited at her hut for the guests but when they stopped at the bench, she came over to greet them.

Mirselene was a robust, dark-haired and myopic woman, stout and forceful. She was also clearly the mother of Dagma, who had accompanied Ezra back to the camp. Seeing her approach, the women made room, leaving Ezra sitting on the bench with Tamar and Wildchild. Tired as he was, Ezra stood up to meet Mirselene.

"I am Mirselene, chief of the Woodlanders."

Tamar answered for them: "I am Tamar, a Miner. This is Wildchild, once a Herder; and this is Ezra Goldrick, an Earthman."

Mirselene raised her eyebrows at hearing Tamar describe herself as a Miner, and again at hearing the name of her friend, but she asked no questions.

"Tamar, Wildchild, Ezra Goldrick: you are welcome to our camp. There is food and shelter here. Please ask for whatever you need. I see Ezra needs medical help. ... Annela, please come here."

A woman stepped up beside her chief.

"Annela is skilled in medicine," Mirselene explained to Ezra. "She will tend to you."

"Of course, Madam," the woman said.

With concern on her pretty face, Annela invited Ezra to come to her hut. Supported by Wildchild and Tamar, who refused to leave his side, he made it into Annela's hut and sat down on her bed, a bamboo cot with a feather-stuffed mattress. She undid the splint and took a look at his arm. It was swollen and had an ugly purple bruise which was painfully sensitive to her touch. Annela felt his forehead. It was hot and his eyes were sunken. There was dried blood in his hair and down his neck from when the gash on his head had opened again earlier that day. It was seeping a little now, though it did not look dangerous.

"I need to make some ointment," Annela said to the girls. "It will take a few minutes. Would you like to lie down, Ezra, you'll be more comfortable?"

"Yes, I would. Thank you. And thank you girls," he said to Tamar and Wildchild, "you have been very brave and kind."

"Help him lie down while I fetch some ingredients and make the medicine."

The girls helped Ezra lie flat, with a pillow under his head and another to rest his injured arm on. Wildchild took off his boots. Ezra relaxed and shut his eyes. Within seconds he was asleep.

Annela returned ten minutes later and was please to see Ezra was asleep. She smiled reassuringly at the two girls. Annela was a pretty twenty-four-year-old with strawberry blonde hair, perfect legs and a winsome smile. She was sweet, gentle and considerate but there was determination in her makeup as well. She bathed Ezra's head-wound and applied a sticky compound to it. Then she felt all around his arm to find the break. Ezra stirred but did not wake. She applied compound to some long strips of woven material and wrapped them around his arm. Then she reapplied the splint Wildchild had made and rested his arm back on the pillow.

"Ezra seems peaceful. I think we should let him sleep," she said to Tamar and Wildchild. "It's almost dark. I bet you're hungry. Would you like to go to the feast?"

Tamar and Wildchild whispered together.

"We would like to go to the feast," Tamar admitted, "but we don't want to leave Ezra."

"He'll be fine for an hour or two but you can come to the feast to meet everyone and we three will take turns to watch over him. You can bring your dinner back here if you want. If he wakes, we can fetch him some food as well. Agreed?"

"Agreed," Tamar said.

Preparation for the feast had begun at sunset and, because an hour later it would be dark, there was little time to chatter but every woman performed her task with alacrity.

The cooks sat on upturned logs near the fire, each woman cooking a dish or two, while other women helped by tending the fire, fetching ingredients and water or bringing platters and wooden forks and spoons. Pigeons were roasting on wooden spits, potatoes were baking in embers around the edge of the fire, thick vegetable soup was bubbling in a big metal pot, mushrooms, onions and garlic were frying in pans and eggs were poaching.

The feast began without ceremony as soon the food was ready. Feasts usually lasted an hour or two because, at this longitude and height, the ice-rain came in the middle of the night.

Annela brought the girls to the feast just as it began, sitting them down on the bench in front of her hut. She asked her neighbour to make sure Wildchild and Tamar were catered for and explained to the girls that she would leave them for some minutes while she reported Ezra's condition to Mirselene.

Women carried wooden platters to the cooks, who put on a slice of meat, a potato and a spoonful each of three of four vegetables, then they brought their platters to a bench, to sit and eat in front of the fire or talking to a neighbour. Younger women fetched platters for the two oldest matrons, which was more a show of respect than a demand of their infirmity. There was much swapping of places and food-sharing, recommending this or that dish. The buzz of non-stop chatter filled the camp, as friends caught up with what others had done that day.

Annela's neighbour was Erin, mother of Carlin, the timid girl who had been in the hunting party that first met Ezra and the girls. With a gentle push from her mother, Carlin fetched a platter and took it around the cooks until it was full and then shyly approached Tamar, who accepted it gratefully. Tamar immediately shared her platter with Wildchild but pretty soon Carlin was back with a platter for Wildchild. Then she fetched a third for herself and, with an encouraging nod from her mother, sat with the girls on the bench, where they ate silently at first.

Aged fifteen, Carlin was like Tamar, blond and skinny, Carlin's temperament was guarded and diffident, where Tamar was bold and trusting. Having eaten enough, Tamar wanted to talk to Carlin. She wanted to know how they hunted pigeon. Bit-by-bit, Tamar got Carlin to explain how the two archers were hidden at the edge of the glade and Carlin herself had crept in to scatter seed on the ground before also hiding. When enough birds had descended onto the corn, Carling rushed out to scatter them, at which point the archers loosed their arrows straight into the bunched flock, increasing their chances of a kill. Usually they brought home ten or a dozen birds from a day's hunting.

After this initial conversation, the girls got on well. Carlin, for one, did not think it was odd that Wildchild never spoke: that was something she could sympathise with.

Sharne and her daughter, Pepi, a lively eight-year-old, sat on the side of the fire opposite the three girls. When Pepi had finished her dinner, Sharne brought her round the fire to introduce her to the Woodlander's new guests. They said 'hello' and then it was time for Sharne to take Pepi to bed. Wishing the girls a peaceful night, she hoped they would stay a long time with the Woodlanders. The other woman of the hunting party, Dagma, did not approach the girls and did not speak to them. There seemed no reason for it but it did not bother Tamar and Wildchild, who had enough to think about anyway.

Annela and Mirselene now arrived at the feast. Mirselene at first checked that her guests were well fed and comfortable, then she made a circuit of the feasting tribeswomen, discussing the problems and successes of the day. Satisfied, she took a platter to a comfortable bamboo armchair and table on her dais and invited her daughter, Dagma, to join her. There she cast a benignant eye over the feast, interfering only when some women wanted to take out drums to sing and dance. This was a common way to end the feast but Mirselene forbad it on the grounds that it would disturb Ezra, who was sleeping.

It was Wildchild who left the feast to go and sit with Ezra. Seeing Tamar and Carlin getting on so well, she gestured to her friend, received a nod in return and took her platter into Annela's hut. Annela herself sat next to Erin and they chatted. The main topic for everyone was, of course, that there was a man on Samothea. The value of a man on a planet occupied only by women, whose reproduction took place only by cloning, was enormous. Mirselene had said as much to Annela in their brief discussion and was now putting her thoughts to Dagma. Pretty soon, the whole Woodlander tribe would have to make a decision regarding Ezra.

As the fire lit the faces of the animated tribeswomen, making the forest beyond the clearing look even blacker by contrast, the interminable discussion of the amazing event of that day had to be brought to a close as the wind lifted and the first drops of night rain began falling onto the camp. The women quickly abandoned the feast, saving the uneaten food, leaving the platters out to be cleaned by the rain and retreated in pairs or threes to their huts. Annela claimed Tamar for her hut and, once inside, lay down blankets and pillows so the three of them could sleep on the floor.

Ezra had not woken.

The central fire was left to be doused by the rain. It spluttered and hissed and finally went out. Then the peace of the forest was disturbed only by the snores of a few Woodlanders, of whom the loudest was Mirselene.