People of the Lightning(148)
Diver glanced at the woman as he wandered through the gathering, his stomach cramping painfully, listening to fragments of conversation, enjoying the warm breeze that danced over the clearing.
He stopped at the edge of the firepit to watch her crafting her dart. She smiled at him when she noticed his attention. The man next to her nudged her with his elbow and gestured at Diver. She laughed gaily and looked up. She was tall, with a beautiful oval face, and a blue-black wealth of hair, and her obsidian eyes shone warmly. A gust of wind flattened her tunic against her chest, accentuating the swell of her breasts and the narrowness of her waist.
Diver smiled, and started to back away, but the woman said, “Please, share our fire. You are unknown to us. Where do you come from?”
Eagerly, he seated himself. The man whispered something to her, then nodded politely to Diver, and wandered over to a small group of warriors. Their laughter greeted him.
The woman said, “You must have traveled a long way. Help yourself to the deer ribs.”
“You are very kind. Thank you.” Diver reached over, pulled off a section of two ribs, and immediately sank his teeth into the succulent meat. Eating ravenously, he chewed, smiled at her, and watched her work.
The woman used a hafted chert knife to scrape her dart shaft free of knots. Turning the shaft constantly, she could maintain even scrapes, keeping the shaft round. After she had shaved off the irregularities, she dipped her fingers into the bear grease bowl and rubbed the newly scraped section down, then held the shaft over the coals. She had to keep it moving constantly, or the shaft would scorch and break on impact. Heating the hickory made it as pliable as freshly cut green wood, so it could be bent straight, but it also strengthened the wood. The grease helped to keep it from overheating and scorching.
“I am Diver,” he said through a mouthful of food, “of the Wasp Nest Clan.”
She kept rotating her dart shaft. “I’m Musselwhite, of the Windy Cove Clan.” Her eyes shone as she smiled.
At that moment, he thought her the most beautiful woman in the world. Joy spread wings in his chest. And his stomach. Finally, the cramps of hunger abated, and Diver let out a slow, soothing breath.
The woman smiled, but with a frown on her beautiful face. “You must not have eaten in a while.”
“I haven’t,” he answered, and when memories of pain and torture started to rise, he hastily added, “But I’m fine now. You work those dart shafts like an expert. Have you made many?”
“Yes.”
She pulled her shaft back, lifted her straightener, and slid the shaft through the hole drilled in the end of the straightener. As she moved it down the heated section of the shaft, bending where the dart needed it, the bone straightener scritched and scratched. She held the dart out to the side and sighted down the length, checking its alignment, then greased a new section, about the length of her hand, and extended it to the heat.
“And what, Diver of the Wasp Nest Clan, are you doing starving to death so far from home?”
He shrugged. “I am an explorer. I love nothing better than running just to see what’s there. And I do some Trading while I’m out.”
She flashed him that wonderful smile again, and he couldn’t help but smile back. “I see. You are irresponsible. An unwed youth, with no war to fight, and so many brothers that your family can afford to let you act deranged.”
Diver’s face fell, then he blinked, and burst out laughing. “Guilty! I admit it. On every charge. My grandfather has always accused me of laziness. So I guess that means I am a lazy-irresponsible-deranged youth. But a very good Trader!”
“You said you did ‘some’ Trading.”
“Yes, that’s right.”
“When you choose to?”
“Well, yes,” he said and shrugged. “Trading is not always a delight. Most people think it’s their duty to cheat you over every rare good you’ve obtained. And not one of them considers what it has cost you. All the traveling and haggling is really tiresome. As a result, now I only Trade when I wish to.”
She ran the straightener down the entire length of her dart shaft while she sighted along it again. As she moved her two wooden blocks in front of her, she said, “You mean you only Trade when it looks as if you can swindle your buyer.”
“Uh … well …”
“A lazy-irresponsible-deranged swindler.”
Diver grinned broadly. She gave him a coy look from the corner of her eye, then concentrated on her craft again. Lightly, she sprinkled the grooves in the blocks with fine sand, placed her shaft in the groove on. the bottom block, covered it with the top block, and pulled the shaft through the sanded hole, back and forth, smoothing it to perfection. When too much sand had been pushed out the ends, she removed the shaft, added more sand, then smoothed a new section of her dart.