The Vera Chronicles Page 04

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Her journey continues.
1.3k words
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Part 4 of the 18 part series

Updated 10/29/2022
Created 10/16/2008
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Caralassa arrived at the wreck of the lifepod, picked a sweetfruit, sat down on a rock on the edge of the scene and contemplated the situation while she chewed on the tasty, pink rind. She thought about what she knew to be true. This seed-from-some-huge-unknown-tree had fallen into this grove and caused all sorts of havoc. When the first members of the tribe had come upon the scene several trees were burning, the seed was hissing and glowing with the lights of stars.

The strange woman was found nearby; dazed and incoherent.

She was taken to Mossara's lodge for treatment. Caralassa and Mossara, sisters and medicine-women, nursed the large, smooth-skinned woman back to health.

Shortly after they placed her in bed Caralassa began to treat the woman's wounds. She watched in wonder when the scratches scabbed over and healed while she could only stare in amazement. It was then that she knew the big, hairless woman was more than she seemed. She was something beyond the known, beyond anyone's experience.

Mossara entered the scene opposite her. She waved her over. Caralassa slid down the rock and embraced her sister.

"Girl, we need to talk about that woman!"

Mossara snorted in jest, "Everyone IS talking about that woman! Let's find out what is going on with her!"

"Well, do you have anything new?"

Mossara shook her head and made a disappointed face: "No, I shredded the leaf in her pee this morning and she's not pregnant."

Caralassa stared at her and said: "She is not compatible with us or she is infertile. She and Dravo have been fucking at least twice daily for the past month and a half. Vera has periods, she IS fertile, this is something that we both know for sure!"

"Lips can lie but the leaf cannot" (Mossara refers to the dried Broma leaves that, when crumbled into a womans urine, can indicate pregnancy and fertility -- via a color change to bright blue. When a man's urine is added to the mix paternity can be established by the color change to bright yellow or lack thereof......These monkeyfolk were primitive but very savvy concerning the pharmaceutical properties of the local flora.)

"What about Dravo? Is his seed potent?"

"Yes." Mossara said.

"At his age?! It's not normal!"

"I don't think that normal applies here, especially after the seed came down from the sky." Caralassa said.

"You're right, of course, more right than I'd want to be....."

"Mossara, right and wrong are not part of this discussion! We are dealing with someone who is not one of us and not like anything or anyone that we've ever encountered!"

"I won't argue with you, sister, but I wonder just how extraordinary she is?"

Caralassa didn't answer her, but climbed up the side of the lifepod and slapped its side.

"Forget her, how extraordinary is this seed that she came in? Where did it come from? Who is she? There is so much we don't know about her."

"Well she sure is a good fuck." Mossara said.

"Which all the men in the village will agree."

"And most of the women!" Caralassa retorted.

They both laughed.

"What about Dravo?" Mossara's tone was serious. "He is stronger, more vital every day! It's like he's shed thirty years!"

Caralassa guffawed: "More like fifty!!"

"Well, why is that? Do you think that it's something other than his last hurrah? It's not natural!"

Caralassa turned serious: "Why, the old rascal was stroking my rump last night, right after he'd taken Vera! He was still half hard and ready to fuck! She has that effect on everyone."

Mossara smiled, saying:

"Perhaps we can help her remember her life before she arrived. If we can help her then her tribe may be generous if she's returned."

Caralassa nodded, "Maybe, but they may not appreciate her being enslaved and used as fuck-toy."

"Probably not, but what should they expect?"

"She's not exactly the spoils of war," Caralassas' eyes grew wide and she ran her hands across the hull of the lifepod, "What if this thing is not a seed? What if her people built it? Like a lodge?"

"A lodge that flies?"

Caralassa turned and looked down at Mossara who was also examining the hull.

Mossara met her sister's gaze and they cried out together: "Or a boat!!!"

"Yes! Lassa, I think you're onto something, it makes so much sense. This is a boat, a lodge boat like the lake tribes live in! But what is it doing here?" Mossara ran her hands over the spacecraft.

Caralassa also continued to inspect the strange smooth outer surface of the lifepod. It was like nothing grown or built that she'd ever seen or heard of, for that matter. It seemed that there were more questions about the slave woman than answers.

If her people could build a boat-that-flies how would they feel about using one of theirs as spoils-of-war?

A few days later Tragon approached Dravo about traveling west to visit the lake folk. Dravo would accompany Mossara and Tragons' oldest daughter, Salema, and deliver her for a year long stay with those lake folk. This practice was part of Tragon's legacy. He'd started it as a mutual exchange of hostages with tribes that he'd defeated as a way of fostering peaceful relationships with them. His oldest son, Valago, had been the first person in the tribe to be a 'guest' of an other tribe. Valago was now a minor chief downriver, married to the headman's daughter.

When Dravo returned he would bring the daughter of the lake tribes' headwoman to stay with Tragon and Mossara for a year. This practice helped ensure peaceful and civil relationships with neighboring tribes.

Dravo agreed to the mission and asked "Perhaps you'd like me to stay and woo Estella, she needs a man now that Proko has taken the final path."

"Are my motives that transparent, old man?"

"Sadly, yes, they are." Dravo smiled.

"Estella is a healthy and as you well know, lusty woman. She could also use some help dealing with those raiders who seem to show up every year about this time."

They were at the edge of the village where the path divided to go either up the mountain or down the creek.

Dravo smirked "So it's even worse than I feared, you not only want to get rid of me but you'd see me slain by the lake raiders while aiding your ally, Estella. Ah, nephew, I've taught you well!"

He laughed loud and hard.

Tragon stammered, "Dravo, uncle, nothing could be further from the truth! I..."

"I know, I know, but what do you think some are saying about you sending an old, senile wretch as myself on such a journey?"

"To be honest, I really don't care what they are saying, they'll say it whether I worry about it or not."

Dravo chuckled. "That's the spirit!'

The younger man turned down the path to the river. "I saw you training with the men the other day. Quite impressive, do you think that you can whip Estella's men into shape?"

"Who's to say that they aren't? Proko was a fine warrior."

"None better than you, uncle, no one. You were never defeated."

"I was lucky."

"Hah!"

"Besides, nephew, I said that I'd go. You don't have to stroke my fur."

"The Goddess knows who's been stroking your fur and so does everyone else." It was Tragons turn to smirk.

"Oh yes, I suppose that I'll leave her here. She might get in the way if I'm to entertain Estella."

"She certainly hasn't gotten in your way so far!" He grinned at Dravo, "Or slowed you down!" He winked, "I'm sure Estella would enjoy you both!"

Dravo chuckled with him. "She's so strange, though."

Trago selected a stone and skipped it across the water. "You've said it yourself, she's not bizarre, she's exotic."

Dravo tossed a rock into a rootwad and watched a large fish swim from cover.

"That she is, nephew, that she is."

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