Ignoring Chele’s barb toward Zoark, Addie went to fetch some of their hidden herbs to prepare her daily mix. The concoction brought down inflammation and quieted the pain, but it couldn't cure damaged joints, and Addie’s level of anxiety over Chele’s weakened condition increased with each passing day.
“We are running low on Nipi bark,” Addie remarked as she worked. “I need to collect more when I go foraging today. It’s actually hard to find in these parts.”
“Gather some pink moss, too. For Qalae.”
Addie glared and didn’t reply. Every other evening, she prepared and gave the queen her dose of herbal remedy. It was dangerous, and it was unfair to both Net’ok and Oh’nil. Addie was of the opinion that Qalae’s problem should be resolved differently and that stringing along two men was going to spectacularly backfire. She, Addie, wanted to be far away from that explosion when it came. With her position in the tribe tenuous at best, the last thing she needed was the High Counselor getting wind of Addie’s medicine dealings with the queen. He would kill her slowly as a warning to others. She resented like hell feeling obligated to Chele to stay involved.
“I will try to split from the group next time we go,” she promised, stomping down on her many reservations about their covert dealings with the queen. “The chief has forbidden the women to go by themselves.”
Chele chewed on her lip. “No matter how large a group, men overpower women.”
“Scouts watch out more than ever for marauders. The groups are more for Gosors.”
“Hmm. But what about the marauders?”
Addie shrugged. “We can’t take an army along every time we go gathering Boroms. Everyone tries their best to stay alert.”
An angry shout rang outside, a woman’s.
“What now?” Chele huffed with frustration. “People! Always going on about something. Can we not get settled in peace?”
“I better go see what it is.” Addie hurried outside, concern making her uneasy. Chele was right, people had grown antsy. After killing the two Elkeks, hunters were unable to find more. A sense of vague unrest plagued the tribe. Maybe it was the lack of game, or the fear of marauders, or the strain of everything combined - tensions ran high and arguments erupted with no warning over small things.
Outside, Vuskas held a young woman by the arm, restraining her mad attempts to twist out of his hold. Next to them, Chief Net’ok towered over the subdued, crying Illied. The sleeve of her dress was ripped from its seam and hung in tatters down to her wrist. Her hair was disheveled, and a large bruise with bloody furrows was forming on the side of her face as if someone hit and clawed at her.
“Quit your wriggles, Sav!” Vuskas barked at the woman in his hold. She ignored him and struggled anew, spewing epithets at Illied. Addie understood very little, but it had something to do with the woman’s mate, Klarm.
Vuskas’s meaty hand clamped around the woman’s throat. Sav clawed at it but couldn't break his hold.
“Is it true?” Net’ok thundered over Illied.
In response, she cried harder.
The High Counselor emerged and floated toward the chief in a cloud of billowing yellow robes, polished stick in hand. Upon seeing him, Addie took two steps back to better blend with the shadows between the teepees. There, she bumped into Melmie who observed the argument with dry brilliant eyes.
“Oh, sorry. Didn’t mean to step on you,” Addie said.
Melmie should be with Illied, supporting her clearly overwrought and attacked mother. Yet the girl made no move to approach.
“Answer me,” the chief was growing impatient with Illied’s stubborn lack of an intelligible response.
“It’s true! I already told you!” Sav wheezed from within Vuskas’s hold. “I caught them together!”
Illied openly wept. She presented a pitiful sight, a true victim amidst bullies.
Addie gave Melmie another concerned look. The girl wore a painful and angry expression, her lips white from being pressed together and her eyes glued to the scene in front of her.
“Call Klarm,” the High Counselor ordered briskly, and before long, Klarm appeared, fidgety and nervous. He was a young man, a strong warrior, but there was nothing special about him that Addie could pinpoint. A middle of the pack kind of guy. His thick dark brown hair, his best physical feature, was pulled away from his face in an attractive wave.
Klarm threw a worried glance at his mate Sav who renewed her wriggles upon seeing him.
“Speak up,” the High Counselor ordered Klarm.
“What should I say, High Counselor?” Klarm asked, looking a bit lost and sullen.
“You mate claims you violated your vows and lay with this woman, Illied. Is it true?”
Melmie stiffened and held her breath waiting for his response. People lurking around seemed to also hold their breath, waiting for Klarm’s answer with unabashed curiosity. This was Planet Zero’s version of prime-time entertainment, season one, episode two, Angry Wives of the Wild Steppes.
