Intended Ch. 10

"Understood."

"Know this, young Light-Eye. The time may come when I must do things to treat your mate's injuries, things which are necessary but may cause considerable pain. I need your agreement that should that time come, you will leave without argument."

"But..."

"No buts," she stated firmly. "Few can withstand watching their loved ones under such circumstances. Now, do I have your agreement, or must I call Tejed and have him remove you?"

"Agreed. I will do as you ask."

The day had grown long before the Spiritwalker emerged to report on Sala's condition. After the old woman sent him out so she could work on his mate's spear wound, despite his best efforts to stay awake, the Light-Eye finally gave in to his exhaustion and lay fast asleep in Essa and Ritol's dwelling.

Keta studied the old woman's face. "How is she, Spiritwalker?"

"As well as can be expected. She is sleeping now. I had to give her a beverage containing powerful magic so that I could work on her leg."

"Her leg?" Tejed asked.

"She was stabbed in the thigh with a spear," she answered as the eyes of both Clan Leaders widened in shock. "The Light-Eye told me he found evidence of a spear point in his search for her." She went on. "The wound concerns me. It is deep, and puncture wounds are some of the most difficult to heal. They fester very easily. I flushed it several times with a solution that is both antiseptic and encourages healing. I will need to change her dressings regularly."

"May we see her?" Keta inquired.

"Nira is with her now, and she really should not be disturbed..." The Spiritwalker pursed her lips, thinking. "Well, I suppose it would be all right as long as you are quiet. But do not wake her; more than anything she needs rest."

"She will not be disturbed," the Leader of Wolf Clan promised. "Speaking of rest, are you going to get some yourself?"

The old woman shook her head. "I must check on the status of my other patient. I should have done so some time ago," she added guiltily.

"Do not be troubled, Spiritwalker," Keta replied. "My people have been taking shifts, watching over her. Veba has not been alone for a single moment."

The spiritual leader walked to Veba's dwelling slowly, deep in thought, fingering the amulet Jakal returned to her. While it very much pleased her to know that the talisman had protected Sala in her time of need, she had to admit she greatly missed its comforting presence. Now more than ever she needed the strength it imparted.

She always thought a darkness lurked within the man who was now the Wolf Clan's Spiritwalker, even back when he was an acolyte. But after her examination of both young women, she finally understood that she had underestimated the sickness, the...malignancy of his spirit. Everyone of her rank bore some responsibility, not only for allowing this individual to attain a position of such power but for allowing him to maintain it. Including, she thought sadly, his predecessor, one of her dearest friends.

How many others had he violated, using his status to conceal his crimes? What became of them? Did they suffer alone in silence, afraid and confused? Just how far was he willing to go, or more to the point, how far had he gone?

She wondered what they would do with him. The ancient stories of their people told of rare instances when individuals were banished, never to be heard from again. In this case she doubted the solution would be so simple. But one thing was certain. She would not stand back and allow her colleagues in the spiritual caste to do nothing.

Jakal woke covered in a cold sweat.

"SALA!" he cried out, sitting up.

A soft hand reached out and touched his arm. "Jakal, it is all right; I am safe."

Startled, the Light-Eye turned his head and looked down. His mate gazed up at him, smiling lovingly, her black hair tousled about her head. Sitting up, she nuzzled his arm, breathing in his scent.

"Sala!" he exclaimed in surprise. "But I...I thought you were..."

"Hurt?"

He nodded wordlessly, rubbing his eyes to make sure what he was seeing was real.

"You were having a nightmare," she explained. "I still have them too, though less often than I used to."

"But the Spiritwalker..."

Sala lightly caressed his masculine features. "Has been dead for nearly a year."

"Dead? For a year? How?"

The young woman furrowed her brow. "You really do not remember, do you?" she kissed him. "Do not worry. It will come back to you; it always does."

"Sala, please, just tell me. How did he die?"

"You and the other men discovered him in the woods by the lake. By the time you arrived scavengers had eaten much of his body, but you also found signs that he had been attacked, and most likely killed, by a great cat."

The Light-Eyed One massaged his forehead with the tips of his fingers, trying to concentrate. He remembered none of this and was finding it all difficult to accept. At that moment he heard running water, and for the first time he realized they were inside the lean-to.

"Where are we?"

Sala smiled, her face radiant and beautiful. "We are at the great river. It was your idea to finish my training here."

"Your training...to become a Tracker?"

"Of course. But I must confess I am infatuated with the Lead Tracker. He is so knowledgeable, not to mention incredibly good-looking." She grinned and kissed him again, this time slipping her tongue into his mouth.

"Mmm. Now that is more like it," she murmured when their lips parted, sliding her hand down his body.

His breath caught in his throat when his woman's fingers wrapped around his stiff manhood. Sala shifted down between his legs, sunlight streaming in when her feet made contact with the flap. She lifted his member, lazily running her tongue up its entire length before taking it in her mouth.

Pleasure flooded Jakal's body as she teased the head, bathing its smooth surface with her tongue. "Uhhh. Sala," he groaned, his fingers grasping blindly for her long hair. "Oh, woman..."

He felt her taking him deeper and deeper into her wet mouth until her soft lips circled the base. Then she slid back slowly, tongue tracing the veins of his trembling shaft.

"You are so hard...feel so good in my mouth," Sala moaned, her hot breath caressing his skin before once again wrapping her lips around the swollen, sensitive tip. Her throat hummed with pleasure as she lavished attention on his body, concerned solely with bringing him rapture.

"Oh, woman, your lips...your tongue... Uhhh... You torment me... Uhhh..."

Jakal's muscles tightened, his release imminent, but before he fell off the edge his mate suddenly withdrew. Gasping for breath, the Light-Eye opened his eyes to find Sala straddling his hips, lowering herself onto his rigid tool. They groaned in unison when he filled her completely, and they remained still for a moment, savoring the sensation of his organ twitching inside her snug warmth.

"I love how you fill me deep inside," she purred, fingering her erect nipples. "Can you feel how much my body burns for you?"

"Yesss..." He grit his teeth, struggling for control. "So hot, so tight and wet... I do not know if I can hold on much longer."

Leaning forward, Sala held herself up by the arms, staring lustfully into his eyes as she rotated her hips, groin on groin, rubbing herself against him in slow circles. She then lowered her face to his, kissing him fiercely, plunging her tongue into his mouth. The mingled scents of their shared lust filled his nostrils as Jakal listened to her moans of pleasure growing, becoming more insistent. Her humping and grinding sent shocks streaking through his body until he lost all ability to think, overwhelmed by a storm of sensation.

Sala's thrusts picked up speed and soon the friction of their union brought them both to the brink. Feeling her muscles clench, Jakal reached up and cupped her breasts, fondling her nipples, hard as pebbles.

"Ah, ah, ah. Oh yes, yes, yes, YES!" she wailed, throwing back her head as she let go, overcome by the wave, her sex throbbing and clutching wildly at his manhood, body shaking under his hands.

"Guhhh...Yes! UHHH!" His body spasmed, shuddering uncontrollably, member jerking and pulsing, shooting its essence deep inside her fluttering canal.

Skin damp and flushed from their lovemaking, Sala collapsed onto her mate. The couple lay chest to chest and panted, catching their breath. After a few moments she lifted her head and gave him a languid, naughty smile.

She leaned in for another kiss. "Mmm. Nothing is better than starting out the day sharing pleasures with you," she whispered, slowly disengaging herself from his body.

"Where are you going?" he asked, disappointed she was getting up so soon.

"To bathe in the river," she replied, crawling outside. She looked over her shoulder and added, her brown eyes twinkling, "You are more than welcome to join me. As I recall standing under the falling water is very exciting."

Jakal's eyes strayed to his mate's rounded bottom, her pink petals glistening, beckoning to him. He felt his manhood twitch and he groaned. The power she held over his body never ceased to amaze him.

Sala blushed, knowing the reason for his reaction. "Why don't you prepare our morning meal while I gather some soaproot?"

"Agreed," he answered with a smile. By the Spirits, she is so beautiful.

"I will be right back." And with that she disappeared into the morning.

He did not bother getting dressed, not since they were going to bathe so soon. After lighting the fire, the Light-Eye looked through their leftovers from the night before, trying to decide what would taste good for their first meal. Suddenly he heard a scream.

"SALA!" he shouted, dropping the basket to the ground and racing in the direction of the outburst.

He found her naked body face first on the ground, covered in blood.

"NO!" he cried, dropping to his knees. "Sala. Sala!"

Desperately he turned her over, weeping as her lifeless eyes stared blankly, seeing nothing.

"She really is quite beautiful. Or rather, she used to be."

Jakal jumped, spinning around. He never expected to hear that voice again, not after what he had seen.

"You!" he spat. "But I...I saw your body!"

The Spiritwalker laughed, slapping the bloody paddle in his hand again and again. "You saw what you wanted to see. And now," he tightened his grip on the handle and lifted it above his head for leverage, "it is finally my turn."

Jakal gasped, waking with a jolt, body covered in a cold sweat.

"Light-Eye, it is all right. You are home. It is safe."

His heart racing, he searched blindly for the source of the voice, flinching when he felt someone touch his shoulder.

"Jakal, it is Essa," he heard her say calmly as a face slowly came into focus.

"What am I doing here? Where is Sala?" he demanded, completely bewildered.

"You do not remember? The old Spiritwalker made you leave your dwelling so that she could work on your mate's spear wound. You fell asleep here."

He sat up. "Is she finished? How long have I been asleep?"

"She finished some time ago. We thought it was important to allow you a chance to rest..."

Rushing to the entrance, Jakal lifted the flap. "It is nearly dark! You should have woken me! I cannot believe you allowed Sala to be left unprotected..."

"Jakal, your mate is not alone. No one will allow her to be harmed..."

"I have heard that before," he snapped, regretting his words as soon as they left his mouth. "I, I did not mean that," he stammered. "Please, forgive me."

Essa's lips quivered. After taking a deep breath she replied, "Do not worry about it, Light-Eye. You have been through a great deal. Go now. Go be with your mate."

Jakal arrived at his dwelling to find Keta, Nefa and the Spiritwalker inside keeping vigil while Sala slept.

Standing quietly holding his mate's hand, he stared at her broken body, covered all over with moistened strips of soft, absorbent skins.

"The skins have been soaked in a mixture which reduces swelling and speeds healing," the old healer explained, as if she knew his thoughts. "I have cleaned and dressed her wounds and given her something for the pain. I gave her another dose a short time ago when I changed the poultice on her leg. The medicine is powerful; she is unlikely to wake until later this night."

"Someone should have woken me," he said sharply.

"You needed rest," the Clan Leader gently asserted. "I told the others to let you sleep."

"With respect, Keta, that was my decision to make, not yours," the young man retorted.

Nefa's eyes grew wide at the harsh tone of her friend's voice, but the older woman remained unfazed. "Perhaps," she calmly replied. "But as your Leader, it is my responsibility to look out for the wellbeing of my people. When you returned on this day you could barely stand; it was clear you had slept very little, if at all."

Just as Jakal opened his mouth to object, the spiritual leader placed a comforting hand on his arm. "Allow your friends to help, child. Do not carry the weight of this responsibility alone."

At the women's urging he finally sat at their side, hungrily eating a large bowl of meaty stew. Keta questioned him at length about everything he knew, from the reason Sala left their people two moon cycles ago to the Spiritwalker's disappearance at the lake the night before.

The older woman looked at him soberly. "I wish you would have said something sooner, Jakal. I wish you could have trusted me."

"Clan Leader," the Spiritwalker interjected, "You should know that when the young couple came to me for counsel, it was I who urged discretion."

"Then perhaps you can explain why you would advise them to keep such vital information hidden from their Clan Leader?"

The old healer lifted a wrinkled hand, silencing the Light-Eye, who was about to come to her defense. "I ask myself that same question, Keta. The weight of that decision bears heavily on my spirit, especially now. But allow me to ask you a question. If Sala had returned to the Camp unmated, claiming that she did not wish to be mated to your spiritual leader, that he had hurt her, would you have called off the joining?"

"There is no way of knowing what I would have done, Spiritwalker, since I was not given the opportunity to hear her claims."

Ignoring the Clan Leader's pointed comment, the old woman went on. "Those of my rank like to believe that we select only the most worthy to become acolytes. Even if we were to err in our initial judgment of an individual's fitness to serve, the many years of study and training required to become a spiritual leader is intended, in part, to reveal the essence of one's spirit. An acolyte who can make it through that difficult process, it is believed, is truly chosen by the Spirits themselves to be their emissary. This is one of the reasons why a Spiritwalker is so rarely stripped of rank.

"On the one hand you have an individual who has, by all accounts, faithfully served our people for many years. On the other you have a strong-willed young woman making accusations which cannot be proven. Perhaps you do not know what you would have done when faced with such a dilemma, Clan Leader. However, I can tell you what the spiritual caste would do, without proof. Nothing.

"I advised Sala and Jakal to refrain from making their claims openly until they could gather evidence sufficient to remove your Spiritwalker from power. Clearly I made a grave error. I never should have left them alone to carry this burden."

Keta slowly stood up. "I think before all of this is over, Spiritwalker, there will be room enough for regrets all around. If you will excuse me, it is getting late."

The sound of Sala moaning and whimpering stirred Jakal awake.

Stumbling to his feet from the furs lying next to the sleeping platform, he kissed the top of her head. "It is all right, my sweet woman. I am here; you are safe."

Nefa sat up from her own pile of furs, rubbing her eyes. With a yawn she asked sleepily, "Is she in pain?"

"It is all right, Nefa," the Light-Eye answered. "I will take care of her. Go back to sleep."

After he had given her a dose of the acrid, pain-relieving decoction followed by a drink of cool mint tea to wash away the bitter taste, Sala reached out and touched his face. "Please lie with me, my mate. I want to feel your body next to mine."

He carefully crawled onto the sleeping platform and lay down beside her. Though it clearly caused her some pain, his mate slid back until her skin touched his. Knowing she found his presence comforting, he gently wrapped his arms around her.

They lay in silence for a time. Jakal thought she had fallen back asleep when he heard her say, "I never asked you about the Spiritwalker."

Uncertain, he did not respond.

"I was so happy you had come for me," she went on. "I forgot to ask if you had seen him."

He cleared his throat. "I saw him when I first arrived at the lake. He had just reached the shore, distracted because his boat was flooded with water. I struck him in the head with a paddle, hard."

"Did you kill him?"

Jakal hesitated. "I...I thought I did."

He felt her body stiffening. "Where did he go?" she asked, her voice thin and tight with anxiety.

"I do not know for certain, but before we left the camp I saw a trail that appeared to lead toward the nearby woods."

Sala began to tremble.

"He was badly wounded, bleeding, so it is possible he did not survive," the young man suggested, though he scarcely believed his own words. "Last night many predators prowled our encampment, no doubt drawn by the smell of blood. I do not know how he could have lived through the night, not without fire."

"He is still alive; I feel it."

"You may be right." He kissed her shoulder. "But if he is, I intend to see to it that he does not remain that way for long."

"But..."

"Sleep, my woman. Let us talk of this later, when the sun shines."

Fingering a strand of her hair, Jakal lay staring into the darkness, listening to the regular breathing of his mate's slumber. Guilt weighed heavily on his mind. He had many regrets, made many mistakes over the past two moon cycles, mistakes which, in the end, nearly cost Sala her life. He could not help but wonder what their life might have been like, where they would be now, if instead of coming back to the settlement they had continued on into unknown lands.

He sighed. It did not matter. They were here, now, living with the consequences of that decision. Nuzzling her neck, he kissed her warm throat. "Please forgive me," he whispered softly.

He did not want to leave her side, especially in this condition. But like Sala, he too sensed the Spiritwalker was out there; until he had proof that the shaman was indeed dead, he could not let down his guard. In the morning he would speak to Keta, find out what she intended to do about their spiritual leader, to see if her plans coincided with his own. Either way, he needed to take action, and soon.

TH-WHACKKK!

Hands and feet pulled up and bound behind her head, Veba cried out as she watched the knotted strap strike her bare sex again and again. Angry welts formed on the delicate skin, increasing her suffering.

THAPPP!

THAPPP!

To her humiliation the sounds of the lashes grew wetter. She could see her lips swelling and splitting apart, exposing her slick opening, inviting the pain he so enjoyed inflicting upon her.

"Look at you. Disgusting. Is there nothing I can do which does not make you leak all over yourself?"

Face crimson, she slowly lifted her eyes. The Spiritwalker towered above her, scowling with contempt as he whipped her with even greater force. Despite the revulsion in his voice, his eyes burned with lust, his engorged manhood outthrust, purple and pulsating, leaking fluid of its own.