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Authors: Morgan Llywelyn

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Watching her covertly, Ladra noticed.

Today, he thought.

They set off once more. Water oozed into the footprints they left behind in the mossy soil.

As they walked together, Byth confided to Kerish, “If there is a good valley beyond this forest we're going to stop there. I see no need to go farther, nor have we met any real dangers. Aside from game, this entire island is uninhabited. We could settle anywhere, don't you agree? So why keep on?”

Kerish, heavily pregnant, nodded. “We must stop soon.” She smoothed her hands down the bulging moon of her belly. “We will have to stop,” she added meaningfully.

The baby inside her shifted, made groping motions with its unseen hands, wriggled down toward the tunnel that led Out.

The forest was increasingly dense. They were following a
winding stream that offered the only open pathway, though its banks were slippery with moss and studded with frequent clumps of vegetation. Once Kerish slipped and cried out. Byth tried to catch her, but he was not quick enough. She saved herself by a desperate grab at a holly bush. The prickles tore her hands, making them bleed.

She caught her breath with a sob. “I have to stop soon,” she said to Byth. “I can't go much farther.”

He wondered if they should simply turn back. It would be a long journey to the last night's camping place. Better they go on. Or stop here, though the forest was damp and gloomy, an uninviting haven. It was hard to know what to do. He felt his responsibilities pressing down on him. My chicks. I must do what is right for my chicks.

Walking in the lead, Fintan suddenly called back over his shoulder, “I see a wedge of brightness up ahead. I think we'll be out of this forest in a little while.”

Ladra grunted deep in his throat. He was walking a few paces behind Kesair, who as usual was eschewing the common path and treading her own way among the trees. She had taken off her cloak and stuffed it into the pack on her back, for it was warm in the forest. Warm and close.

Warm and wet. Ladra's eyes followed the clench-and-relax of her buttocks, clearly visible beneath the fabric of her gown.

Off to their left yawned the mouth of a small cave, almost hidden by moss and shrubbery as it backed into a hill. Ladra's darting eyes observed the cave; returned to Kesair.

“Kesair,” he said. Very softly. “Kesair.”

She heard him the second time and glanced back. “What is it?”

“Did you see that?”

“What?”

“Something just moved inside that cave. Something large. I think it's watching us.”

“Are you sure?” Kesair stopped walking and turned to face the cave. “I don't see anything. Should we call Fintan?”

“I can do anything Fintan can do,” Ladra said petulantly. “If there's any danger, you're safe enough with me. But I think we should take a look. Just because we haven't seen any large predators yet doesn't mean there are none. If one is in that cave, I want to know.”

She nodded agreement and came back toward him. “Be ready,” she warned. Her own long knife was already in her hand, taken in one smooth motion from the scabbard on her belt.

I am ready, Ladra assured her silently.

They advanced with cautious tread toward the cave. Its mouth was narrow, but it could be of any size within, burrowed into the tree-covered hill. Ladra held out one hand, signaling Kesair to move slowly.

The longer it took them to reach the cave, the farther away the others would get. If she should cry out, he did not want them to hear her.

When they had crept almost to the cave's mouth, he faked a stumble and dropped his own knife into the thickest undergrowth. “I've lost my knife,” he hissed. “Quick, give me yours.” He reached for it so suddenly and imperiously Kesair surrendered her weapon before thinking.

One slow step at a time, Ladra entered the cave. He had to duck his head under the low overhang, but once he was inside it was more spacious and he could stand. He was aware of Kesair behind him.

“What do you see?” she whispered. “Be careful, don't go any farther!”

“I see â¦ I see â¦ it's all right, but come in here, look at this. Just look!” he said in a voice of feigned excitement, as if he had found some treasure.

Kesair entered behind him. She stood so close to him he could feel her breasts against the back of his upper arm. “What? I don't see anything.” Her breathing was light and quick.

She wants it, Ladra assured himself. She knows why we're here.

Turning, he dropped his knife to the floor of the cave to free his hands. He caught her by the shoulders and pulled her against him.

“What are you doing?” She struggled to get her hands between their bodies and push him away, but Ladra held tight.

“Don't fight me, Kesair. This is what you're meant for.” He bent his face to hers but she twisted aside, denying him her mouth.

“Let me go!”

“You're just saying that. Why don't you relax? We're all alone here, no one will bother us. It won't take long, I promise you, I never take long.” He gave a wild laugh.

Kesair tried to get her knee up but he had her clamped so tightly against him that she could not. She had never thought Ladra was so strong. The fight between them became desperate; silent. She saved her breath for the struggle.

He pushed her toward the unseen back of the cave. She fought him every step, feeling a mounting panic beat like a pulse at the base of her throat. What difference does it make? a coolly rational part of her mind asked. Him or another. But the rest of her mind screamed silently, Not him! Not this one! It had nothing to do with rationality and everything to do with the integrity of her free will.

She redoubled her efforts and managed to break the hold of one of his hands. He grabbed for her again but she flung herself sideways, falling onto one knee on the cave floor, scrabbling with her free hand for purchase on the gritty stone.

Ladra did not give her a chance to get up but flung himself down onto her, knocking her flat beneath him. He gave a grunt of triumph and began tearing at her clothes.

His fingers closed on the shell tucked in the bosom of her gown. A small spiral shell, with a sharply fluted edge at its aperture.

The feeling of it was so unexpected Ladra snatched his hand back, thinking he had been grazed by unseen teeth. “Something bit me!” he cried in disbelief. “Something in your gown!” His fevered mind imagined a giant insect, some alien life form attacking him in the dark cave.

He half lifted his body off hers, trying to look at his hand in the dim light filtering in from outside. He thought he saw the ooze of blood.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Kesair gave a mighty heave and threw his body aside so she could roll out from under him. He reached for her again but she was too quick. She was on her feet as his hand closed on her gown. She strained; he held on. The fabric tore with an audible ripping sound and she was free. Kesair took the two paces to the mouth of the cave in one bound and was outside. With a great gasp, she drew the wet air of freedom into her lungs. She ran a few steps; slowed; looked back.

Ladra was not following her.

There was no sound from the cave.

He thinks I'll be curious and go back, she told herself. It's a trick.

Anger sizzled in her. She bent swiftly, pawed through the undergrowth until she found the knife he had dropped, and put it in her own scabbard. Then she hurried after the others.

She had almost caught up with them when her steps slowed of their own volition.

I am the leader, she thought grimly. I can't go off and leave him, even if I'd like to see him dead. And I would. I would!

She drew in a breath to call Fintan and ask him to go back with her, but never made the call. She did not want to give Ladra the satisfaction of thinking she was so afraid of him she had to ask Fintan for help.

I can handle Ladra myself, she thought. I'll control my fear and my anger too. I can do it. I
can
.

She gritted her teeth, biting down with all her strength on her seething emotions. Knife firmly in hand, she went back alone.

No sooner did Kerish see the light ahead that meant the end of the forest, than the vague disquiet that had troubled her belly all day became something more defined. A spasm like a giant cramp doubled her
over. She tried to call Byth's name but could not get her breath.

He was aware at once, however, and bent over her. “What is it? Are you all right?”

Old fool, she thought. You can see I'm not all right, do something! But she could not speak. The cramp was crushing her insides.

Byth straightened and looked around wildly for help. Some of his women were ahead of them, some behind. Fintan was still back among the trees somewhere. He did not see Kesair at all, though hers was the face he would have welcomed.

“Help!” he cried at random. He croaked like a frog, his voice breaking.

People hurried to them. The solicitous hands of other women touched Kerish, understood at once. A place was swiftly found for her and her bulky body eased down onto a mossy bed. The women crowded around her. There were hasty consultations. The young ones were frightened. The older women, particularly those who had given birth themselves, were calmer, insisting that everything was normal, there was no need to worry. They would care for her. With swift efficiency they divided themselves into groups to stay with Kerish and comfort her, and other groups to bring fresh water, gather clean moss, search through the packs for items that might be needed.

Ayn thoughtfully assigned herself to Byth and led him some distance away. “She'll be fine, they'll tend to her. You come with me now. You'd only be in the way and make her anxious. That's it, come along. We'll find a nice place where you can wait.”

Had he been a younger man, Ayn might have encouraged him to stay with the woman. But Byth was paler than Kerish, and she was worried about him. With difficulty, she got him seated on a fallen tree near the stream, and tried to make distracting conversation with him.

When Kerish screamed the first time, though, he jumped to his feet and hurried back to her in spite of all Ayn could do.

By then Fintan had arrived, assessed the situation, understood he was less than useless, and gone looking for something to hunt while he waited. Most of the women, aside from those looking after
Kerish, were taking advantage of the halt to bathe themselves in the stream, or gather the shiny brown nuts that strewed the earth beneath some of the trees.

Fintan had not noticed that Kesair was not with the other women. Her absence did not cry out for his attention. She was inclined to go her own way. He assumed she was nearby, without giving it any specific thought.

A small furry animal sprang up almost under his feet and ran toward the light at the rim of the forest. Fintan ran after it.

When Kerish screamed a second time one of the women gave her a piece of cloth to hold between her teeth, and another gave her a piece of rope tied to a tree to pull on. They kneaded her belly to locate the infant. It had entered the birth canal.

There would not be long to wait.

Barra and SalmÃ© supported Kerish in a squatting position. Old Nanno had put herself in charge. Her cracked voice guided their efforts. When Byth hovered too close she snapped, “Take him away, somebody!”

Hands tugged Byth a few paces from the scene of action. He protested every step of the way. “You're hurting her! Be careful! Can't you see she wants me?”

No one paid any attention to him.

Leel said in an awed whisper, “This will be the first child of the new world.”

A sense of occasion overtook them. The women exchanged glances. Their eyes gleamed. Kerish, sweating, torn in half, struggled to bring forth life.

Her two screams had coincided with the struggle in the cave, so Kesair did not know. She only knew that she could not in good conscience go off and leave Ladra. He was sick; sick in his mind, of that she was convinced. His body had given off a sour, unhealthy smell that still clung to her clothing.

She fumbled at the bosom of her gown. The shell was missing. It must still be in the cave then.

For that reason alone she had to go back.

The dark cave mouth waited for her. She approached slowly. “Ladra?”

There was no answer. Nothing appeared to stir inside the cave.

“Ladra? You'll be left so far behind you can't find us if you don't come now.” Kesair waited tensely, ready to run if he made any threatening moves toward her. But only silence greeted her words.

She stepped almost to the mouth of the cave and cupped her hands around her eyes, peering into the darkness. “Ladra?”

Then she saw him. He was lying on the floor, far back in the cave, with his knees drawn up against his chest. His face was turned toward her, a pale blur in the dimness. His mouth worked but no sound came out.

It's a trick, Kesair warned herself. “Come now,” she said sternly.

He made no move to get up. Instead there was a whimper like an animal in pain, and his body thrashed weakly on the floor.

Kesair held out the knife so he could see she had it. Step by cautious step she advanced, ducking under the low overhang. She did not get within grabbing distance of him, but went close enough to see his face more clearly.

Ladra's face was bloated, twisted. “Annnhh,” he moaned. “Aaaannnnhhhh.” His eyes pleaded with her.

“What happened?” she asked in a shocked whisper. Suddenly she knew it was no trick.

“I'm â¦” His mouth struggled to frame words. “I'm â¦ poi â¦ soned. Poisoned. You poisoned me.”

Kesair almost dropped the knife. “I did what!”

“That thing. Hidden. In your breasts. I â¦” His voice failed, but still his eyes pleaded for help.

“No poison could act that fast,” Kesair protested. “I wasn't carrying any poison. Just a shell from the sea.”

“Poisoned teeth,” Ladra insisted. “Bit me. You â¦ tried to kill me â¦ why?” The last question was a piteous sob.

Kesair thrust the knife into her scabbard and bent down to try to help the man to his feet. But Ladra had no strength. Even with her aid, he could not stand. He was in undeniable pain.

Beside him on the floor she saw the pale gleam of the seashell.

Kesair picked it up. She turned it over, wonderingly, in her hand, then put it back into the bosom of her gown.

Ladra's eyes widened. “It will kill you!”

He is out of his head, Kesair thought. Aloud she said, “I'll go get help. But you're not poisoned, you couldn't be. It's a seizure of some sort. Don't worry, I'll get help.” She was backing away from
him as she spoke. She could not wait to leave the cave, to be in open air that did not choke her with the sour smell of him.

Once outside, she ran.

She came upon the others soon enough, although she had expected they would be far ahead by now. Instead she found them gathered beside the stream shortly before it emerged from the forest. In the center of the group was a figure that held their attention; they did not even notice her come running up to them.

“Ladra's ill,” she called out. “I need someone to help with him. He can't walk.”

Faces turned toward her. “Kerish is having her baby,” Murra said.

“Oh!” Kesair hesitated. “Is she all right?”

“Seems to be.”

“Then â¦ can't we spare some people to come help me with Ladra? Where's Fintan? And what about Byth? Surely he's no use to Kerish right now.”

Murra chuckled. “I don't think you could drag Byth away with a team of horses. But Fintan's around here somewhere, I think.” She looked around, searching. Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and called, “Fintan? Where are you?”

“Be quiet,” someone hissed. “You're disturbing Kerish.”

The admonition was unnecessary, actually. Kerish was not disturbed. She was lost in the throes of birth, all her attention centered on the cataclysm within herself.

“I don't know just where Fintan is,” Murra admitted to Kesair. “How ill is Ladra? Is it urgent? And where is he?”

“Back there.” Kesair waved a hand vaguely. “I don't know if it's urgent, but I'm worried. He thinks he's been poisoned.”

Murra's brow furrowed. “Did he eat some berries? What did they look like?”

“Not berries, and I don't really think he's poisoned. It's something else, but I need help. Stay there, I'll go find Fintan myself. I suspect he's gone on ahead to see what's there.” She started toward the light beyond the forest.

She met Fintan coming back with a limp furry body in his hand. “Ho, Kesair,” he called, brandishing his kill, “look at this!”

She averted her eyes. She was uncomfortable with death while
life was beginning so close behind her. “Can you come help me get Ladra?”

Fintan's eyes dimmed with disappointment. He had expected praise; he had killed the creature with his first effort, a lovely clean kill. “What's wrong with Ladra?”

“He â¦ ah â¦” Kesair pawed among the available words in her mind. She did not want to tell Fintan everything. “He caught hold of a seashell I was keeping and he thinks it's poisoned him. It couldn't have, but something has made him very sick. He's in a cave back along the trail, and he can't walk.”

“What about the baby, is it born yet?”

“Not yet. But Ladra needs help now.”

Fintan fell in step beside her. They made their way past the cluster of women around Kerish and on down the stream, deeper into the forest, until Kesair was able to point out the cave. “He's in there.”

Fintan followed her to the cave mouth. She stepped aside and let him go in first.

Ladra lay as she had left him, knees drawn up against his belly. He was breathing shallowly but he was conscious. He said something unintelligible to Fintan.

“He's sick all right,” Fintan affirmed. “But if we can get him on his feet with an arm around our necks, between us we can get him out of here.”

Kesair did not really want to touch Ladra, but she forced herself. Between them, she and Fintan got him unsteadily to his feet and walked him out of the cave. He smelled worse than ever, a nauseating stench like something going rotten.

But his face was not as bloated Kesair noticed once they had him out in the leaf-filtered light of the forest. The illness, whatever it was, was abating. He stumbled but he could walk, and when he spoke again his voice sounded minimally stronger. “Thought I was going to die in there,” he told them.

He did not mention his attack on Kesair. Nor did she.

Moving slowly, they rejoined the group. Ladra kept his eyes closed and let them guide him while he hung between them almost as limply as the furry creature had dangled from Fintan's hand.

They reached the others just as Kerish let out a great cry and a wet, bloody mass slid from her into old Nanno's waiting arms.

Within moments a boy baby was filling the forest with lusty cries.

In the excitement, no one paid much attention to Ladra.

Kesair and Fintan let him sit down, propped against a tree, and went to congratulate Kerish. It was Byth who was garnering the congratulations, however, his face shining like the risen sun. Kerish lay exhausted, watching the baby on her breast.

“Doesn't anyone care if I live or die?” Ladra's peevish voice asked at last.

When she was satisfied that Kerish and her baby were well, Ayn went to Ladra. She had the most experience among them in dealing with illness, but she could not explain his fading symptoms. “I don't think it's poison,” she told Kesair, “but I couldn't be certain. It might be a kind I've never seen. Whatever it is, it's passing off anyway. I'd say he'll be all right. He'll have a day to rest. We won't expect Kerish and the new baby to move until tomorrow.”

Instead of being reassured, Ladra took exception to Ayn's words. “She doesn't know what she's talking about. I almost died. I could still die. It's obviously something rare and dangerous, and no one knows what to do about it.”

Kesair, making sure no one else was listening, said to him, “It was just a seashell I've carried in my gown all this way, with no harm to me. It couldn't hurt you. Your own guilt is making you sick, Ladra.”

“Guilt? Guilt for what?”

“You know,” she said in a low voice.

“I didn't do anything wrong. I didn't do anything you didn't want me to do.”

“Did I act as if I wanted you to do it?”

“The fighting, you mean? That's just your way, I'd say. Some women like to pretend to resist.”

“I wasn't pretending. And if you ever try that again, I'll fight harder. I'll kill you if I have to.”