Enge bellowed with pain and lashed out, knocking the male to the ground. The thing’s teeth had broken her skin, drawn blood. She arched her clawed fingers and hissed in anger. The creature scrabbled away from her and she followed. Then stopped. And felt guilt.
“We are at fault,” she said, anger ebbing away. “We killed the rest of your pack. You cannot be blamed for doing what you did.” She rubbed at her sore arm, then looked at the bright stain of blood on her palm. The door opened and Stallan came in, carrying a gourd of orange fruit.
“The male creature bit me,” Enge said calmly. “Are they poisonous?”
Stallan hurled the gourd aside and rushed to her side, glanced at the wound—then raised a hard fist to strike the cowering male. Enge restrained her with a light touch.
“No. The fault was mine. Now, what about the bite?”
“Not dangerous if it is cleaned well. You must come with me so I can treat it.”
“No, I shall wait here. I don t want to show fear to these animals. I will be all right.”
Stallan moved with disapproval, but could do nothing. She hurried out, was gone for only a brief time before returning with a wooden chest. From it she took a container of water and used it to cleanse the bite, then stripped the cover from a nefmakel and put it into position. Enge’s moist skin stirred the dormant creature to life and it adhered to her flesh, already beginning to secrete antibacterial fluid. As soon as this was done Stallan took two knotted black lumps from the box.
“I’m going to secure the male’s legs and arms. It won’t be the first time. The creature is vicious.”
The small male fought to escape but Stallan seized it and hurled it to the floor, then knelt on its back, holding it still with one hand. With the other she seized one of the bindings and wrapped it around the beast’s ankles, then inserted the binding’s tail into its mouth. The binding swallowed by reflex, drawing its body tight. Only when it was well-secured did Stallan throw the creature aside.
“I will remain and guard you,” she said. “I must. Vaintè ordered your protection. I have been remiss once and you have been injured. I cannot permit it to happen again.”
Enge indicated begrudging agreement, then looked at the discarded gourd and the fruit tumbled on the floor. She pointed at the prostrate female.
“I’ll get the round-sweet-eating-things. Turn that one over so she can see me.”
Ysel screamed hoarsely when the cold hands grabbed her, lifted her roughly, and pushed her back against the wall. She chewed at her knuckles and sobbed as the other marag stamped towards her,, stopped, then held up an orange. Its mouth slowly opened to reveal rows of pointed white teeth. It uttered an animal’s screech as it waved the orange, scratching its claws on the floor when it did this. Ysel could only moan with fear, unaware that she had bitten into the flesh of her fingers and that blood was running down her chin.
“Fruit,” Enge said. “Round, sweet good things that you eat. Fill your stomach, make you happy. Eating makes one strong. Now do as I command.” She spoke temptingly at first, then commanding. “You will take this fruit. You will eat at once!”
Then she saw the blood where the creature had injured itself and she turned away in disgust. She put the gourd of fruit onto the floor and signaled Stallan to join her by the door.
“They have crude tools,” Enge said. “You said they had shelters of some kind, as well as large animals to serve them?” Stallan nodded. “Then they must have some degree of intelligence.”
“That doesn’t mean that they can talk.”
“A well-made point, hunter. But for the moment we shall just have to assume that they do have a language that they use to communicate with one another. I must not let a single failure stop me—look, the male is moving! It must have smelled the fruit. Masculine reactions are coarser, it cares more for its hunger than our possible threat. But it still watches us, still a wild animal. Look!” She cried out with triumph. “It is eating the fruit. A first success. We can at least feed them now. And there, see that, it is bringing fruit to the female. Altruism—that must denote intelligence.”