Starport: Zeta Prime (Alt) (12 page)

The woman put her arm around her
comfortingly.

“
The healer has been fetched. He’s
in safe hands.”

His wife
stroked his face and cried out to him, begging that he stay with
her. Charin, Ashan and Camil made their way to a stone building on
the opposite side of the village. Faron, lips tight and jaw
clenched, followed on after them.

“
I
don’t think so. You need to let me take a look at
that
. Look how hurt you
are–you need to be seen to.” The elderly woman stopped him with a
firm hand and examined the wound near his shoulder–a gaping hole
gushing with blood.

“
What in
the world did this to you, Faron?” She asked, her eyes filled with
concern.

“
It doesn’t matter. I will go to
see if I can help with Ashan’s treatment.” He didn’t look at the
woman once. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but changed her
mind and let him go.

Jillian
made it to
his side just before he reached the building where the healer
was.

“
Faron. Oh God, you’re hurt. What happened?” She babbled
pointlessly in English, cursing her stupid lie not to speak the
language, but knowing even now, that revealing herself would make
her look awful. But she couldn’t
not
say anything to
him. His injury looked bad. She gulped, it looked really bad. There
was blood flowing freely from it, which she knew had to be stopped
as quickly as possible.

Jillian
ripped a
strip of material from the bottom of her skirt and pressed it down
hard on the open gash. He shrugged her off immediately and carried
on walking.

Behind
the closed door of the hut, she could hear the wails of one of the
women and she bit her lip at the distress of the sound.
Half-jogging to keep up with Faron, she went to step inside with
him as he reached for the door.

He held
a palm up to her. Stop. And then disappeared into the building,
closing the door behind him and leaving Jillian on the outside,
confused and upset. Not knowing what else to do, and being worried
about his injury, she sat outside the hut and waited, hugging her
knees to her chest.

Inside, the healer had
laid Ashan out onto a table. He looked closely at the hole
that penetrated through his chest. Dousing a cloth in oil, he laid
it over Ashan’s nose.

“
It’s to numb the pain
when he regains consciousness,” he explained to his
audience.

“
Can I
help in any way?” Faron stepped forward.

“
Yes. I
need to get the piece of metal out from the wound. It seems to be
lodged, keep your hands on his shoulders. You’ll need to hold him
still. If he moves, I could end up causing more damage.” He looked
up as Faron took position, standing at his comrade’s
head.

“
You look like you need to be treated, too. That wound’s not
small.” The healer commented to him.
Faron waved him off, his own wound could wait. Ashan’s wife
was being held back by Camil and Charin, but as the healer leant to
delve into the wound, she struggled free and flung herself onto his
still body.

“
I’m going to need her out of
here.” The healer requested.

“
Go and find Sennan, Fenn. She’ll
look after you.” Camil led her to the door.

As it
opened, Jillian leapt up from the ground. She took one look at
Fenn’s grief stricken face and grabbed her arm.

“
Fenn.
Is he okay?” She wanted to help so badly, and tried to pull Fenn
into a hug– knowing that her words were useless.

To her
shock, Fenn jerked away as if she’d been stung and narrowed her
eyes at Jillian.

“
Don’t
pretend you care. Those cuts are not from animals. Your people did
this to him. Your people,” she spat as she walked away into the
main clearing. Jillian stood, stunned. She hadn’t looked properly
at the hole in Faron’s shoulder, but hearing Fenn’s accusation made
her think. Had it been a bullet wound?

She had
thought the men had been out hunting, so how come they had come
under gunfire? She pushed the questions to the back of her mind,
knowing that she couldn’t provide the answers herself. She began
pacing up and down the entrance of the medical site, waiting once
more.

Faron
’s shoulder was
throbbing with pain as he held onto Ashan, but he simply couldn’t
focus on that right now. He needed to know that his man was going
to live. It had been his fault that they had been out there–he had
put them in that place of danger. The healer gingerly lowered two
finely pointed sticks into the wound and managed to grip the metal
object. As he began to lift it out, Ashan spluttered and tried to
wriggle from the searing burn in his chest.

Faron
spoke calming
words as he restrained him, watching the healer the whole time,
willing the object to come out.

“
I’ve got it.” The healer lifted a
small, blood covered shard into the air.

“
Now, we need to stitch him up and
cover the area with dressings. He won’t be going out hunting for a
while though, I’m afraid.”

“
Will he
heal completely?” Faron felt guilty at the healer’s statement,
knowing that he hadn’t been out hunting at all.

“
I’ll keep an eye on him, but it’s
a good sign that he’s awake now, so remain positive.”

Camil
and Charin visibly relaxed at the news, but Faron stayed tense and
anxious.

“
Come
on, Faron. You need to get yourself mended. You’re of no use to
Ashan–or any of us injured.” Camil insisted.

Faron
thanked the
healer and left the two men in the hut to keep watch over the
third. He glanced at Jillian as she sprang to him when he left, but
then kept his gaze forward while he marched towards Sennan’s
dwelling. He couldn’t look at her. He was furious at himself for
putting his men in danger, and furious with himself for putting her
in danger, too. What if they came looking for her now? It was his
role in life to protect, and he had let everyone down. He couldn’t
face Jillian until he’d made peace with himself.

She was desperate for him to at least look at
her. They had been so united last night, as one, and now she felt
more of an outsider than ever.

Sennan
opened the door to Faron and invited him in.

“
Mother. Can you tend to my
wounds? I want the healer to concentrate on Ashan?”

She
nodded and gave Jillian a quick glance as the two of them went
inside.

Jillian
’s brain was
reeling. Sennan was his Mother? She felt shunned by her new mate,
and shunned by his family, now. Not wanting to be alone, she went
into the large dining hall to see if she could find out what had
happened out there–and also to see if she could get some comfort
from someone. She was on the verge of tears at this horrible chain
of events, and needed to be around others.

It
turned out that the communal building was not the best place to go.
As she entered, she saw a group of
females, huddled around the distraught Fenn. They looked up
to see her, and all instantly turned away. She thought she’d even
seen one of them scowl.

Jillian
sat at one of
the more sparsely occupied tables, unsure as to where to go. She
wanted to make sure that Fenn was alright, wanted to offer
sympathy, but from the atmosphere of the crowd around her–she’d not
be welcome.

“
They’re
saying it’s all your fault, y’know.” Shana slid up to her, making
her jump. Infuriatingly, she couldn’t ask questions. She lifted her
shoulders and spread her palms in a shrug, hoping that Shana would
read her ‘what’s going on?’ signal.

Shana
pointed to the
gathered females then to Jillian.

“
They
think it’s your fault. The men were hurt by weapons from your men.
This has never happened before–not since you arrived. Now, there is
a big problem.” She spoke as she jabbed the air. Jillian had a
thousand questions. Did Shana see that she had nothing to do with
it? Was she talking to her because she knew it wasn’t her fault?
Ok, they were her people–humans, but she didn’t order them to
attack. And why had they been near each other, anyway? Was this
usual on a hunting trip?

Jillian
sighed and
bowed her head. It was useless. How could she defend herself when
she couldn’t speak? Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted
someone wafting up to the table where Fenn was crying. It was the
female who had brought her food, the one she had thought Sennan
warned her against. Her face was the picture of compassion as she
whispered softly to Fenn. Then, as she looked up at Jillian, a
nasty smirk formed on her lips.

I
am in trouble now,
Jillian
thought. If she manages to poison them against me I will never be
accepted here again.

* * * *

Sennan knew better than to question her son as she stitched
his wound. He sat, staring straight ahead, lost in his own
thoughts. He had known his Mother wouldn
’t try to push things right now–she always read his
state of mind well.

His
people would be wondering what had happened, and he knew that soon
enough he was going to have to explain. But for now, he mused over
his decision. He had never felt such a powerful emotion before last
night with Jillian, he had been almost overwhelmed with the strong
sense of wanting to keep her safe, wanting to look after her above
all others. Had he sacrificed his men because of that?

He’d watched her sleep that morning, and had been unable to
contain his fury at the way she had been treated, at the way she
would have most certainly been killed had he not intervened.
But
what was this feeling
that overpowered all his other duties? It scared him. It had caused
him to make a potentially fatal choice.

* * * *

Jillian
looked at the
female sitting next to her, and wondered if she’d be shunned too,
for being with her. There was much kindness in these people, much
loyalty. She didn’t want to be the one who would cause
complications and animosity. Though she was desperate to hold on to
Shana, to keep her by her side for reassurance that she would not
be completely outcast, she was resolute that Shana shouldn’t be
thought ill of amongst her own kind, and flashed her a sad smile as
she left the room.

Chapter
Fourteen

She was too agitated to sit down, so she paced the room,
chewing on her nail. She picked up the terracotta jug and filled it
with fresh water from the pump in the central clearing of the
village, wanting
Faron to
have no excuse to leave once he came back. If he came back. She got
several stares as the water flowed into the vessel, and she was
glad to hurry to the sanctuary of the room.

Straightening out the fur bedding for what
seemed to be the thousandth time, it was relief that first hit her
as he stepped through the door to their dwelling.

She ran
over to him, not caring about whatever reaction she got—just
wanting to show him that she cared, that she wanted to be
there.

Faron
looked at her,
still needing time–the guilt coursing like venom through his veins.
In all honesty, he wanted to reach out to her, but he was afraid of
losing face. Afraid that her comfort would break his steel
exterior. He went and sat on the edge of the bed, pouring a large
drink of water and swallowing it in one gulp.

Jillian
stood boldly
in front of him. She needed some answers, and hard as it was going
to be, she had to try her best to get them.

Feeling vaguely ridiculous, she interlaced her
fingers in a begging gesture. Please. She then pointed to his now
bandaged shoulder and shrugged. What happened?

He stared at her for a long time, she couldn’t
detect any anger or blame in his eyes, and was comforted by this.
However, he did not respond to her mimes. She knew he must realize
what she was attempting to ask, but his mouth remained resolutely
shut.

Anger bubbled inside of her. Why wouldn’t he
just talk? One of his friends had nearly been killed and it was
driving her crazy thinking it may be her fault. She sat on the
other side of the bed, so that they had their backs
together.

Was this
her fault? Part of her felt that the tribe was being unreasonable
by blaming her for the injuries to their men. But a part of her
also wondered if they were right. What if the men had been looking
for her? If during their search they had run into Faron and his
men, and attacked? Maybe they knew that Faron had helped her
escape?

All this speculation was driving her mad. He
had been perfectly happy to talk to her in his language before, and
he was under the impression that she didn’t understand, so why the
silence? She made her way to his side of the bed, and this time
kneeled before him so that she could see his face
properly.