“I don’t know that we could have stopped his passing,” she admitted in return.
Shur was watching her face intently. “You’re a healer. You know life’s secrets.”
Alarmed, she spoke over him, “No, you’re mistaken. I’m not a healer, truly. And even then, some injuries are too grave for a healer to repair.”
He cocked his head. “How do you know, if you’re not one?”
Hastily, she moved away from Shur. His attention was too pointed for comfort.
Women brought out a large leather pallet to act as a stretcher, and sweet-smelling herbs to accompany him on his last journey. They formed a circle around him, only the females, blocking him from the view of the world by their tightly-positioned bodies, protective like a mother's womb, and chanted sweet loving words. When they finished, the men somberly took Egis away to a low-lying mossy spot where they undressed him and left his body on the bare ground. By morning, nothing would be left of Egis.
???
The next week passed in a strange gloom. It was as if Egis’s death sucked all hope out of the tribe. Life went on, but it felt like going through rote motions.
Along with everyone else, Addie continued to perform her daily tasks but did so mostly in silence. Of course, there wasn’t much to talk about at home. Chele had retreated deep into a sulk and was giving both Addie, Melmie, and Oh’na a cold shoulder. But she quit faking a grave injury and even went foraging with Vircea and Oma.
But it wasn’t just Chele who didn’t feel like socializing. People suddenly had nothing to say to each other.
Oh’nil, trussed up and tied to the post, wasn’t helping to uplift the spirits. His situation had a deeply depressing effect on Addie.
Every time she passed him - and she often passed him because he was stuck in the middle of the settlement as a dire warning to any potential rebels - she violated High Counselor’s rules by stopping to offer Oh’nil a tiny bit of comfort. She touched his hand where the ropes allowed her to reach bare skin. She spoke to him, small nonsensical things meant to encourage. She wanted to show him he was not alone.
He barely acknowledged her and hardly opened his eyes. He had weakened considerably and sagged against the ropes.
As far as she knew, not even Zoark bothered to come by.
Actually, she barely saw Zoark at the settlement. Not that she wasted her time looking for him… even though she did waste her time checking out his comings and goings. With the increase in the tribe’s reconnaissance missions, scouts were deployed more often than usual, and they traveled farther to search for signs of marauders. Zoark was absent more than he was in, and when he did come in, he reported briefly to Vuskas and disappeared into his tent, only to come out and leave for the next mission.
Today, she hadn’t seen him all day, which was fine with her because she’d been busy. She planned on stopping by Oh’nil again on her way home from Oma’s place where several women were working on threading flax fibers.
Their work done, the women had dispersed, but Addie lingered, partly to help Oma clean up, partly marking time to avoid dealing with Chele’s stony silences that filled their small home to bursting. With hope, the old woman would already be sleeping when Addie got there.
It was late when Addie approached the post. To her surprise, she found Vircea sitting at Oh’nil’s feet, crying. The sound of Addie’s footsteps startled Vircea, and she whirled around with a gasp.
“Oh, Addie.” Relief was visible on Vircea’s little wild-animal face. Her large eyes would have been catlike if cats could have demonic red peepers with double rings of green. Her ears twitched with emotion.
Addie lowered down next to her. “He’s seven days in.” She touched Oh’nil’s calf in reassurance. He didn’t react. His eyes were closed.
Resigned, she put her arms around Vircea. “It’s so unfair. He did nothing wrong.”
“I hate seeing him like this, Addie.”
A bitter mix of emotions started its inexorable churn. Anger, yes. Helplessness. The feeling of being inadequate for not standing up to the High Counselor.
“Vircea,” Addie said as the thought occurred. ”Why can’t we untie him?”
Vircea wiped her face in surprise, smearing amber tears all over her cheeks. “What?”
“Yes, what if we cut the ropes?” She looked around. The settlement was deserted. The sentries, patrolling the perimeter, had no direct view of the post.
Following Addie’s lead, Vircea swiveled her head right and left and back, much better equipped in her range of neck motion.
“They will find out in the morning. Maybe sooner if a sentry walks by.” Concern laced Vircea’s words.
“They will. But he’ll have had a chance to rest, without the ropes.” Oh’nil badly needed to restore his blood circulation, but Addie wasn’t going to explain to Vircea what it was, at least not right now. “Do you have a knife?”
“Yes, of course,” Vircea reached into her boot.
