Chapter Eight – Awakening
[New reader? If you would like to start at the beginning, click here.]
In the morning, a foggy predawn without color and without a sound but the dripping of the moisture from the trees high above, Ja’kh’redd woke with a snort. He’d curled around a sack of grain unconsciously, using it as his pillow, and his back was sore. When he tried to move his wings, he realized why. He was still exhausted, but needed to know about kitten before anything else.
“Arrgghg,” the Vidos snorted, wincing with pain, then looking around the little house.
It was dark inside, for all the windows were shuttered, but for the red glow of the coals from the fire, and a few fine slits of gray-white light from the window panes. Yet for Vidos eyes, that was enough.
He held his breath for the soreness of his body, and crawled carefully the few feet to the girl’s side, seeing that she was wrapped in new blankets, and her cheeks were just a hint pink again. She was alive. Once again, the old Hermit had literally worked a miracle; but Ja’kh’redd was not entirely surprised. It was a rumor that the old Hermit had magician’s powers, and that he could heal a wound far faster than normal. From the looks of the girl, she was already days along her recovery after only a few hours. It had to be magic.
“Good, old man,” he muttered, pleased beyond himself, which woke her.
She looked up at him through her utter exhaustion, seeing only the outline of his head, horns, and wings, and the glint of his eyes, red from the coals. He made a nightmarish figure, yet she was not afraid. Even so, she winced when he nuzzled her under one ear, then smiled in surprise to feel that his skin was as soft as kid-leather, as soft as a horse’s muzzle. Somehow, the monster’s touch was comforting. She tried not to laugh because it would hurt very much, wondering at the massive beast which seemed to want to be her new pet. Though she was so tired she could barely keep her eyes open, she was far too curious to fall back into dreamless darkness just yet.
The Hermit was sleeping in a chair, fully dressed with blood on his arms, having sat down for just a minute to rest when he was sure the worst was over. That had been three hours before.
At the hint of soft voices he woke, bleary, gazing at the dark shapes before the fire until he realized that his patient and her odd rescuer were awake and attempting to communicate. Yet he sat, and listened, too tired to move and sure that the girl was well. The fact that she felt strong enough already to speak was a heartening sign.
“Are you really the Vidos that rescued me when I was a child?” She whispered out loud, yet to herself, knowing he did not understand. Her voice was pathetically faint, but she had no strength for anything more.
“Now you will grow strong, the Hermit will know what to feed you,” the Vidos responded, in his own language. “Surely he has many berries.”
“Why did you save me? Why did you rescue me as a child, and how did you find me again? Are you a spirit?”
“This time you will find yourself a mate and stay in the village where I put you, so that you will not be attacked on the mountain passes anymore. You have given me much trouble, kitten.”
“I thought it was a dream for so long. The others mocked me when I told them I’d been rescued by a Vidos, they hate Vidos… they convinced me I’d been dreaming.”
“You will mate with a prosperous male who has the ability to clothe you decently, and you will eat until you are not weak and too thin.”
The Hermit began to smile, amused. Sensing his awareness, Ja’kh’redd turned to look straight at him. Vidos senses were truly remarkable, especially in the dark.
“Hermit, I will hunt for you until the Mating to pay for the healing.”
“Hunt me a few pelts, Ja’kh’redd, to pay for the herbs, for this time the healing was free,” he responded as gently as the Vidos tongue allowed.
The woman flushed a little in amazement, staring at the Hermit. “You speak his tongue?” she demanded.
“Yes,” he replied in accented Argenian, “I often trade with the Vidos, and they bring me their wounded to heal. I learned their tongue and glyphs years ago, it isn’t very complicated.”
“Then can you speak to this Vidos for me?” Her eyes glinted with hope.
“What do you want to say?” He asked, entertained by his guests as he hadn’t been for months. “I’ll relay it to him exactly as you say it.”
She looked at the Vidos in wonder and asked, “Why did you save me when I was a child?”
Ja’kh’redd grinned at the Hermit, realizing that he could finally talk to kitten, as he never dreamed possible. Enthusiastically, he replied, “you were hurt, kitten.” (At this point the Hermit snickered, explaining to her that Ja’kh’redd had used the Vidos word for cute fuzzy baby animal,) “I am not a Hunter which kills the cub with its mother, nor a mother if it has cubs, unless there is a mistake. If I find a cub wounded, I will put it where it can survive. I am not like the barbarian humans, who kill for no reason.”
“I was taught that Vidos are all killers, who kill for no reason other than sport.”
Ja’kh’redd made a face, sitting back in a huff. “Indeed, many of the Lesser Tribes are uncouth barbarians themselves. I am not excusing them. Some fight for bloodlust, and some kill for entertainment. But I am not one. I am a proper Hunter.”
“So you found me as a child, and saved me? How did you find me? I can’t remember anything, but the Vidos…” She stopped, finding the vague horrible memories difficult. “I don’t even remember who I was, I could never remember my last name.”
“I found you hiding under a wagon. The horses had been killed…”
“Were you one of the Vidos which attacked us?” She demanded, eyes flickering with dark accusations, as those ancient blurry memories came back one after another.
“No. I am a Hunter. I was flying overhead and smelled the smoke and blood, and I came down to be sure it wasn’t Argenian invaders, whom I hate. I saw that it was Vidos which had attacked a human caravan, and I heard your sound. I lifted the wagon to see you, and took you from there. Then I took you for many days toward Argen…”
“Why?” She cried out, agonized, and began to cry. She turned her face toward the fire. “Why did you bring me to Argen? Why didn’t you take me to Vamoor?”
Ja’kh’redd paused in befuddlement, gazing at the Hermit, who himself shrugged. “That’s what she said,” the old human added.
“Vamoor,” Ja’kh’redd said gently, leaning over her to explain, “was far from where your caravan was attacked. It was on the road from Argen, so I took you to Argen. I thought your people were from Argen.”
“With this hair?” She demanded weakly, tears brimming from her eyes. She was more than just physically wrecked, but emotionally as well. Life had not treated her kindly. “The Argenians hate anyone with red hair, they say they are witches from the Northsea, from Vamoor and Dalhan, which is why I was trying to go there. My blood is from Vamoor, not Argen.”
“The Caravan was coming from Argen…” he began to argue, then realized the wagons had been pointed the wrong direction. They hadn’t been coming from Argen… they’d been going TO Argen. They’d passed through the entire width of Vidos-land, only to be caught on the Westernmost boarder. He sat back in a huff, surprised. “No, they were going to Argen. But why cross the Vidos-land? The pass of Radij two days to the South, where I found you four nights ago, is much safer… even with the Raiders.”
“Not for me obviously,” she said bitterly, then cried, and reached out for him. “Come here.”
Ja’kh’redd hesitated, wondering what the young human female wanted. Vidos are not known for touching, or caressing but to lick at one another for a time, and so he did not know what to expect. When he drew near, coming on hands and knees very carefully, she pulled him to her with her good arm, until his soft leathery cheek was against her shoulder, and embraced him gently.
Ja’kh’redd, bewildered, crouched there frozen for several long moments, the utmost look of pure confusion on his fierce face. The Hermit had a hard time not laughing. But for Ja’kh’redd, it was like the moment when she was a very tiny child, when she had reached up and lighted to his bosom like a tiny bird, in full and complete trust. Soon he closed his eyes, both the upper and the lower lids, and rested there.
“Goodness,” the Hermit whispered to himself, amazed as he pulled on his lower lip. “Now that’s a sight you don’t see every day.” To give them a moment, he got up and began to crack open the shutters, to bring a little light and air into the room as the sun rose. But he kept looking back at them curiously, for he’d never seen such a bond between human and Vidos before in his life, nor heard of any.
When she spoke, he translated softly once again, just as curious to hear the conversation as they were.
“Thank you twice for rescuing me.” She stared at him, at a loss for a moment, then went on. “There should be more to say, but no words are enough. You are a very rare Vidos.”
“I just…” Ja’kh’redd stammered, feeling odd all over. “I… I…” He sat back, hand on brow, wondering what was wrong with him. It wasn’t an unpleasant feeling, but strange, and he surmised that it must be continued exhaustion from the long flight. Or his soft belly. Yet it centered around that little hug, so simple and innocent, and so very unlike anything Vidos he’d ever experienced.
Being a beast, he didn’t over-analyze anything, and so quickly decided that he preferred the embrace, and crouched over her once more with, if it were possible, a sheepish smile. As the Hermit stared openmouthed, Ja’kh’redd the Vidos Warrior was soon curled up around the girl on the floor, with his chin on the top of her head, and her arm around his leathery neck.
“Puh…” the old man blew out, in astonishment. “Well, girl… it seems you have yourself a new pet! And a very large one at that! I hope you can feed him enough!” He said in the human tongue.
She smiled a little. “Good thing… no other human will approach me.” With that obscure remark, she fell asleep again, and the two remained where they were all morning.