Slave of Akrona Part Two

by G. Lawrence

A mysterious castaway has become a slave

This science fiction novel features romance but is light on erotic content. It's the story of a young soldier from Earth captured by an alien species and sent to the mines of Akrona to live among slaves. But this warrior from another world is no slave. The book is being presented 9 parts.

My original plan to publish Slave of Akrona in 5 parts involved very long segments that even I found tiresome, so the submissions have been retooled into shorter segments. This segment originally appeared in Pt. 01 but is now a separate chapter.

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Chapter Two

THE MOUNTAIN

"Tomorrow is the rest day. Maybe you should return to Ferret Camp," Clagg suggested, striking hard with his pick ax at the end of the tunnel.

"We need to shore this roof up," Grey said in conversational Akronos, cutting a niche in the wall to hold a support beam in place.

"Myra asks about you. You make Garn laugh," Clagg said.

Grey stopped, but only for a moment. Though Clagg had just turned thirty, he looked older. Many years of difficult leadership were taking a toll. When necessary, Clagg could enforce his will because of his massive strength, but he preferred persuasion instead. Neither had proved effective with Grey.

"The cart grows full. Should I have Banor roll it to the depot?" Grey asked.

"Our production is up. If we make quota, there will be new tunics for the girls, and warmers for the babies," Clagg said. "If you ate better food, our production would improve even more. I might trade for a fur hat. Myra would like that."

"The crossbeam is weak. Stop while I get another support," Grey announced.

"You've grown irritable these last few weeks. What's wrong?"

"A project doesn't go well," Grey said with a sigh. "That is, the project goes well, but I'm unhappy with the results."

"What project? You live in the weeds like a dire rat. Even on rest days, you never walk among the people. Do you mean the old tools that don't work?"

"No, I've made progress on repairing the jackhammers. It's a different problem," Grey hedged, looking away so Clagg wouldn't see the disappointment.

"Is it the strange words you mumble? The numbers of your language?"

"They're called coordinates. Intersecting lines that specify spatial relationships."

"Like fixing a point in the tunnels, as you've shown us on the maps in the dirt?" Clagg asked, surprising Grey with how quickly he grasped the principle.

They may only be ignorant slaves on a backward, ignorant slave planet, he realized, but they learn fast. They understand complicated principles when carefully explained. And each morning, whether he wanted her to or not, Myra got up early to give him warm soup outside the mine entrance. He knew he should be grateful, or at least pretend to be, but all he felt was bitterness. Bitterness and rage.

I was a hero, he remembered, even though I never wanted to be. Why have I been abandoned? The heat of the mine made it worse. This is hell, he thought. I died and went to hell. He swung his pick ax with such force the sound could be heard all the way back to the main junction. Then he paused.

No, he was forced to concede. It's not hell. He knew Clagg to be a good man. His wife gentle and forbearing. Deserving of better. Even the others aren't so bad, he decided, when they aren't being suspicious. And scared. It embarrassed him that he had made so little effort to help the people of Ferret Camp.

Why didn't I die when I should have? he wondered. I was ready. It was my time.

Grey looked up from the ore cart to see Clagg studying him in the lamplight. It was as if Clagg had sensed every thought in his mind, a talent inherent to many good leaders. Grey admired Clagg for keeping his people together under such cruel conditions.

"I want to be your friend," Clagg said.

"They are my troubles," Grey answered.

"Don't be afraid to share your fears. We're all afraid. Afraid the food will be scarce. Afraid our women will go unprotected. Afraid of the pens. Afraid our children will be taken away. Are your fears so much worse?"

"No, they're not worse," he admitted. "But they're all I have."

"Myra would have you live at the camp. It would save her a walk in the mornings."

"The beam is weak. I'll get another support," Grey said.

He walked up the gently sloping tunnel, following the ore track to a junction where timber beams were usually stored, but the only beams left were too short. Then he saw Shalli coming down the shaft, carrying water buckets on a pole over her shoulders, sweat dripping from the soft round curves of her body. Her elfin size reminded him of a fiery young Russian woman who had once hated him, but later became a close friend. Like her, the resentment that had once burned in Shalli's eyes was in the past, replaced with an impetuous curiosity.

"Hello, stranger with no name," Shalli said.

She set the buckets down and removed her filtration mask, revealing a pleasant smile as she presented him with a cup of water.

He removed his own mask, sipped some of the cool water, and splashed the rest on his face and neck.

"Thank you, Shalli," he said, handing the cup back.

"You can have more," she encouraged.

"The others need water, too. Your walk is long."

"I don't mind making an extra trip, and you never take half of what anyone else uses," Shalli said, offering another cup.

Grey looked into her deep blue eyes where the lamplight danced like small sunspots. Though he resisted as best he could, there was no doubt he found Clagg's sister attractive. Shalli found his shyness intriguing.

"You are generous," he said, drinking the whole cup.

"You call me generous? You fill our quota but barely eat our food," Shalli said. "You will not accept the gifts of our camp, meager as they are, yet you teach the men to find better ore. All I bring you is water."

"And a smile," he answered.

Shalli blushed so deeply it could be seen even in the dim light of the tunnel. Grey smiled, too. It was the first time Shalli had ever seen him smile. It was warm. Far from his usual grim demeanor.

Suddenly there was a roar from the far end of the mineshaft, followed by a booming echo. A cloud of dust filled the junction. Grey pulled Shalli underneath a sturdy beam, holding her close until the most immediate danger passed. Their eyes met. Shalli was terrified at first, but the look in his eyes reassured her. There was concern, but no fear.

"Get help," Grey said, pulling up his mask. Then he ran back into the cloud-filled tunnel.

The shaft was thick with dust near the junction but had begun to settle toward the end where Grey had last seen Clagg. Part of the wall had caved in, knocking the ore cart over and pinning Clagg against the opposite side. A single beam of light from a fallen lamp cast deep shadows.

"Watch out. The roof," Clagg grunted, trying to push the cart back.

But strong as he was, there was no chance. The weight of the cart and pressure from the rockslide was preventing him from working free, and it looked like his leg was broken.

Clagg pointed at the timber beam supporting the roof. It had cracked nearly in half. If it gave way, the entire tunnel would come down.

"We must hurry," Grey said, throwing rocks off the cart one after another. The beam creaked, fine dust raining down all around them.

"Run, my friend. The mountain is coming for me," Clagg said.

"I'm not afraid of the mountain," Grey denied, trying to move the stones faster. But there were too many. The beam splintered.

"You're not afraid to die," Clagg agreed. "You're afraid to live. But you must live. After the mountain claims me, how will Ferret Camp meet quota? Many will be sent to the pens. You must live. You must live to help my family after I cannot."

"The mountain will not claim you. Not today," Grey swore.

He stripped off the filtration mask to study the cracked timber for the weakest point. Then, with a deep breath, he climbed up on a boulder and set his feet slightly apart, placing both hands underneath the beam to push with all his strength. The beam continued to bend, small rocks falling down on him.

"No one defies the mountain. Flee now, before it's too late," Clagg begged, struggling even harder to get free.

But Grey did not flee. The more the beam bent, the harder he pushed back, fighting the inevitable with growing anger.

You want me, come get me. You've taken my wife. My world. Everything I once loved. You've left me a slave, dwelling in the desolation of an alien planet, destined for the pens of a rapacious race. And now you want Clagg. You, who have sought to make my life a living hell, would make me abandon my only friend. Make his wife a widow. Strand his people among a sea of enemies.

"No! It stops now!" Grey shouted, not to Clagg, but to the mountain.

He shoved at the creaking timber, his arms, back and legs braced like beams of oak. He remembered the training of Master Shao those long years ago in a Chinese monastery. Remembered the Master's teaching that the spirit may prevail where the body alone would certainly fail. He focused his thoughts, bringing mind and body together into a single unified force, and fought against the mountain. Fought with all the fury and anguish he could command.

The beam stabilized.

Clagg stopped trying to dig himself free, staring at Grey in disbelief as he held the roof in place. Rocks continued to fall amid puffs of dust. He was straining so hard it seemed impossible he could last another second. Yet he continued to hold. He had defeated the mountain.

Cot emerged from the dust, then Hernet and Banor, each going to help Grey maintain the beam. Others arrived just as quickly, and soon a support strut was hammered in place, allowing Grey to step back.

"Hurry," Shalli said, pushing aside rocks as the ore cart was forced back just enough for Clagg to be pulled free. As Grey suspected, his leg was badly broken, but four men quickly picked him up.

"The mountain comes," Cot warned, herding the people through the tunnel as fast as he could. When Cot noticed Grey lingering in the junction, he returned to draw him away.

"Come with us, nameless one," Cot said, daring to grab his arm. Cot half expected to be thrown against the wall, but Grey meekly obeyed.

With a thunderous roar, the mine started to collapse, the beams at the end of the shaft breaking under the stress. A cascade of cave-ins soon filled the tunnel with choking clouds of dirt and rubble, but the rescue party managed to reach the entrance with a few moments to spare. They emerged into the midday sun with sighs of relief and prayers of thanks.

"Back to camp. We will judge the damage in the morning," Hernet said, nursing a bad scrape on his arm. None needed convincing. They were battered, bruised, and frightened. That everyone had survived seemed a miracle.

Grey remained behind as the people of Ferret Camp disappeared down the trail to their tents. He was surprised to find Shalli waiting for him.

"You held up the mountain," she said, her eyes filled with awe.

"I only delayed the collapse for a few seconds," he explained.

"You saved Clagg."

"The mountain was not interested in Clagg."

"You could have run," Shalli said.

"Yes, that's what the mountain wanted."

Shalli did not understand. He who wasn't quite a stranger anymore looked disturbed by what had happened. His breath was short even though the air was clear near the mouth of the mine. He had a faraway look in his eyes. Shalli noticed blood dripping from a cut on his forehead.

"Come to camp. I'll wash your wound," Shalli said, reaching for his hand.

But Grey had no interest in the camp. He turned toward the path leading to the top of the ridge instead, crawled up to the first ledge, and kept on going. In a matter of seconds, he was gone. Shalli watched him disappear with tears in her eyes. Then she followed the others back to camp.

When Grey reached his campsite, he dropped down next to the creek. First he caught his breath and drank deeply of the cool water. His hands were shaking. The muscles twitched. The small of his back hurt. But none of that mattered. Something had happened. Something inside him had changed. A nameless slave had run into the tunnel to help Clagg, but someone different had walked out.

He took another drink, his lips dry from a sense of panic. Then he returned to his burrow for a moment of rest. The structure was sturdy now, well insulated with crisscrossing branches and leaves. A rock foundation kept out the occasional rain. The grass mattress was covered with several sewn hides, not enough for a blanket, but a good start. Clay vases held extra water and stored nuts. A newly made straw hat hung from the rafters while his rawhide moccasins sat on a shelf, but he didn't wear them in the mines, not wanting to appear wealthy. He had started to make a shirt but still needed more fibers. The hillside offered a variety of useful plants.

After calming his nerves, he went to look at the calculations etched on the nearby cliff. Calculations he had finished just a few days before. There could be no mistake. He was eleven hundred and eighty light years from home. And Earth had no stargate. Even if he could escape the camp, steal a spaceship, and fight his way through a chain of well-guarded Arikhan outposts, the closest solar system to Earth with a stargate was a dozen light years away. A voyage of at least forty years.

It had been two years since he battled the Bellerophon. His wife was long past her mourning period. He was only a memory now. A statue in a park.

Grey picked up a stuffed root and chewed. The dry plant filled with mashed nuts and berries wasn't bad, but he didn't taste it. Not even the wild spices he had added for flavor. Suddenly he started crying. He tried to stop, only to cry even harder, and there he sat for much of the afternoon, not moving. Having no desire to move, or even think. What would be the point?

The mood swings were over. The vague fears put to rest. He finally knew that his world was gone forever. He was dead. Atomized, only to be resurrected as a slave of the enemy by forces he didn't comprehend.

Who am I now? he wondered. No one, he decided. Nothing. Reassembled molecules. He reflected on those times in his life when there had been hope. And purpose. His struggles involved great challenges and great risks, but always with a high destiny in mind. What an ego I had, to think that only I could save the world. Others gave as much as I did. Many gave more.

He remembered Shalli's words in the tunnel. She had called him generous. What an ironic joke that had been. He didn't eat their food because he didn't want their friendship. Worked hard only out of habit. He avoided their camp so there would be no chance of belonging. He wasn't generous. He was selfish. Selfish, arrogant, and spoiled. He had been a great hero on another world, and now he was nothing.

"Hello. Excuse me," someone called out. "Hello? Where are you?"

It was Shalli's voice coming from the edge of the ridge, growing louder as she approached along the narrow trail through the bushes. He tried to wipe his face, embarrassed by the streaks on his cheeks.

Shalli emerged into the clearing, noticing the well-made hut and its several luxuries. The stranger did not dwell in the weeds as everyone thought, nor was he impoverished. Then she saw the wall where thousands of unfamiliar markings were scraped. Row after row of inscriptions, all carefully aligned. She wondered what meanings the marks could have, and why he had spent so many months making them. He had held up the mountain. Could he speak with the gods through these strange symbols?

"What's wrong?" Grey asked, seeing she had not cleaned up from the cave-in several hours before.

Shalli hesitated to enter the holy place, fearful of the powerful magic. Grey jumped up and took her hand, drawing her forward.

"Clagg is hurt. Thal, medicine woman of Raven Camp, is claiming everything, and still she won't promise to keep Clagg from the pens," Shalli said. Then she suddenly burst into tears and dropped to her knees at his feet.

"Please help us. Please, master, please help us," she begged, the sobs catching in her throat. Grey saw her small hands claw at the ground before daring to touch his ankles, her forehead pressed to the dirt. "We have so little. So little. Now we will have nothing. Not even Clagg."

He lifted her up, firmly holding her upper arms until he had her full attention. The eager blue eyes that had smiled at him in the tunnel only hours before were now filled with despair.

"I will come, but you must never kneel to me like that again," he said, trying not to sound angry. "Do you understand?"

"Yes, master," Shalli said, her lips quivering.

He ignored the lapse and took her down the ridge, assisting to make sure she didn't fall from the sharp rocks. Shalli recovered her composure, and as they walked toward the camp, it seemed she never doubted for a moment he would be able to help.

Every member of Ferret Camp was standing near the community tent as they approached. Grey was shocked to see all of the younger women stripped bare except for their collars, the older women wearing rags. Several men had lost all but their breechcloths. A section of canvas was spread before the tent, and on the canvas was the missing clothing, along with a decorated water jar and Myra's favorite cooking pot.

A woman stood over the pile dressed in a flowing white tunic trimmed with ermine, a bear tooth necklace around her neck overlapping her slave collar. Grey guessed her not quite thirty in age. She was not tall, but kept her shoulders straight. Colorful red and yellow feathers were tucked in her long silky black hair. She held her head high with all the regal bearing of a monarch. At her feet lay a black leather satchel. An Arikhan medical kit.

"Have you nothing else?" Thal said, her dark brown eyes radiating contempt. Her voice was calm and cold, tinged with sarcasm. "Is the life of Clagg worth no more than a few trinkets?"

"Please, Thal, will you save Clagg from the pens?" Myra asked on her knees, her cheeks stained with tears.

"The break is bad. The masters will take Clagg if he is crippled," Thal said. "Perhaps my magics will work. They are powerful. Nothing is promised."

Grey could feel Ferret Camp's distress. It was as Shalli had said. They had so little, and now Thal was taking everything. The fall season was approaching, and though the winters were said to be mild, they were not that mild.

"Can you offer nothing else? I must have more," Thal said.

Grey looked past the group into the tent where Clagg was laying on a bed of thatched grass, then circled around and entered through the back. Clagg's left leg was broken so badly the fibula nearly protruded through the skin. Grey knew he must be in terrible pain.

"I should have come sooner," he whispered, kneeling by Clagg's side.

"You held up the mountain. No man can ask for more," Clagg grunted.

"A man can ask more, when he asks it from a friend. I have not been your friend. While you were in trouble, I was on the mountain feeling sorry for myself. Can you forgive me?"

"All in this camp have seen your pain. Forgiveness is unnecessary."

"I'll try to do better," Grey promised.

"Do you have a name now?" Clagg asked.

"Yes," he replied.

Grey stood up and emerged into the light of the setting sun. All eyes turned in his direction, even the haughty Thal's.

"Who is this? The spy you've harbored?" Thal said, looking him over.

"I am Benjamin, a friend of this camp," Grey said. "Are you a healer, come to treat the leader of Ferret Camp, or a vulture come to feast upon the bones?"

"Do not speak to me, spy. You have nothing to trade. And I truly mean nothing," Thal laughed, pointing at his ragged breechcloth.

All expected Grey to shrink back in humiliation, for there was undoubted truth in her words. He smiled instead. A dark, mischievous smile that gave Thal pause. He walked forward and picked up her medical kit, pawing through the contents.

"Do not touch the magics! You will be cursed. Cast into hell!" Thal shouted.

"I've already been there," Grey replied, finding the expected supplies of opiates, probes and scalpels.

"You will return the magics now," Thal demanded, reaching quickly. He held the prize away from her, meeting Thal's angry look with a subtle grin.

"Cot, Hernet, take her arms," he ordered.

Cot and Hernet were shocked, but Grey's voice of command was so strong they soon obeyed, each grabbing one of Thal's arms. The medicine woman's confidence faded, replaced by a frightened belligerence.

"Release me. Release me now before I unleash terrible evil on you," Thal threatened.

Cot and Hernet looked to Grey, whose face was no longer smiling.

"Beware, witch, for nothing in your bag of parlor tricks can frighten me," he answered, staring into her dark eyes with defiance. "Know that I've trolled the depths and soared with eagles. I've seen planets burn and children sing. I have magic beyond your feeble imagination. Behold."

Grey walked to the cooking fire where an iron pot was suspended over a low flame.

"Bring the witch forward," Grey ordered.

Cot and Hernet dragged Thal to the fire.

"Myra. Pie. Strip her," Grey ordered.

More than happy to obey, Myra and Pie pulled the white tunic and underclothing off Thal despite her struggling. Shalli rushed forward to take the bear tooth necklace. Then Grey took a thin leather strap and tied Thal's hands tightly in front of her. Unlike the poverty-stricken Ferret Camp, Thal felt intensely humiliated to be exposed in such a way. She had forced several women in Ferret Camp to stand before her naked, never thinking it would happen to her.

"Lay her on her belly before the hearth," Grey demanded.

As Thal was laid face down in the dirt, Grey raised his right hand to the setting sun.

"Hear me, High Goddess of the Stars, for this is Benjamin, a traveler from a far land," he said. "Here lies a practitioner of the healing arts strayed from your guidance. She has exploited her people. Abused your gifts. Much does she deserve punishment. Absolve her sins, Great Mistress, and accept her humble submission to your will."

He reached into the fire, hearing a gasp of astonishment from all who watched. Even Thal quivered in horror. But Grey was not seeking to get burned. Slipping his hand discreetly to the side, he wiped the side of the pot until his hand was black with oily soot. Then he held the hand up for all to see and pressed firmly on Thal's bare right buttocks, leaving a clear handprint. He repeated the gesture with his left hand, this time imprinting Thal's left buttocks. She squirmed under his touch, unable to resist.

"Release her," Grey said.

Thal jumped to her feet and spun around. The black handprints looked like branding marks. With her hands tied before her, Thal could not reach back to wipe the marks away. For the barest moment, Grey thought her a fine looking woman, despite her evil ways, with clear white skin, graceful legs, and many female attractions.

"Whip this shameless harlot from the camp, then meet in the tent. Clagg needs our help," Grey instructed.

With all fear of evil magic forgotten, the young women chased Thal from their camp, laughing and throwing sticks at her. Thal fled slowly, her bare feet unaccustomed to the stony ground.

"Thal will pass many curious eyes before she reaches Raven Camp," Myra said to Grey as he washed his hands in the creek. "None will help her until she gets home, fearing the black arts that have been practiced. You didn't tell us you're a magician."

Grey knew Myra was both amused by Thal's embarrassment and apprehensive of his newly revealed powers. He found a piece of soap root to scrub his hands.

"You've known me nearly two seasons, Myra. You were kind to me when no one else would be. Fed me even though I was ungrateful. I tell you now, I'm not a magician. I have no special powers. I saw Thal carrying a medical kit and decided to take it from her. Everything else was meant to scare her away."

"You're not a magician?" Cot asked, glad to have his shirt back. He handed Myra her tunic. Shalli held Thal's ermine collar to her face, feeling the soft white fur.

"I'm not a magician," Grey said.

"Did you not call upon the gods?" Hernet asked, pleased to be back in his fur pants.

"Anyone may call upon the gods. It doesn't mean they'll answer," Grey replied.

"You shamed Thal before the entire camp," Myra said.

"Yes, I enjoyed that part," he admitted.

Myra laughed, partly in relief, then truly enjoying the jest. Others were soon laughing, too. Grey wasn't ready to laugh. Not yet. Clagg's injury was serious.

"I'll need boiling water," Grey said. "And I want the tunic Thal was wearing torn into strips and put in the boiling water. We'll also need two flat pieces of timber and several yards of leather string. Lay Clagg on the straw with his head propped up. Clear away anything that's been soiled."

The camp burst into action, obeying the commands without question. Grey kept his hands clean and returned to the tent while Shalli carried the Arikhan medical kit.

"This is going to hurt," he told Clagg.

"It already hurts," Clagg said. "Did I hear your name? You are called Benjamin? What does it mean?"

"It means man-who-comes-late-to-help-his-friend. Sometimes people just call me Ben, when they're not angry at me."

Clagg smiled, pleasure in his gaze despite the pain. "I'm glad you finally have a name, my friend. Maybe someday you will tell us what it really means."

"Maybe," Grey said.

The first boiled strips of cloth arrived carried on a sturdy branch. Myra brought Grey a clay cup, and after tasting each of the drugs with the tip of his tongue, he mixed a dose of morphine to apply with an injector.

"I've seen breaks like this before," Clagg grunted. "They don't heal well. I am food for the pens. Cot will be leader now. You must help him."

"The break is serious," Grey agreed.

"Thal would make no promises. To lie of this would hurt her magic," Clagg continued.

"My magic is stronger than Thal's," Grey said, stretching the leg out and probing the contours of the bones.

"You said you have no magic," Myra reminded.

"This is a different magic. It's called battlefield medicine," Grey said. "I've been a soldier since childhood. Injured many times. Seen others injured, and sometimes killed. Each time I watched the doctors to learn their skills. This injury is bad, but I've seen worse."

"I'll be sent to the pens," Clagg lamented.

"I say you will not," Grey insisted.

"You've only had a name for a few minutes," Clagg said.

"You have called me friend. It is name enough," Grey replied, twisting the leg for position.

"That is true," Clagg winced. "But the break is bad. Thal would make no promises. Promise to help Cot."

"Did I hold up the mountain?" Grey asked.

"I saw you hold up the mountain," Clagg agreed.

"Then don't doubt me now. Your leg will heal. You will walk. You will be strong. You will not go to the pens."

Clagg rested back as Grey administered another painkiller, doing everything possible to relax the muscles around the broken bone. Once the maximum affect had been reached, he placed his hands along the pressure points of the break, probing deeply with his fingers.

"Hold him," Grey instructed.

Cot, Hernet, and several others took hold of Clagg's arms and feet, bracing themselves. The big man was calm, maintaining his composure. Others crowded in to watch Grey work, fascinated by the furrowed brow that betrayed such intense concentration. All knew Clagg's life was at stake, along with the well-being of the camp. The stranger had assumed an enormous responsibility.

Grey made ready to set the bone and glanced out toward the stars to whisper a prayer. A new moon hung in the east just above the horizon, which he took as a good sign. When he noticed every man, woman and child in the camp watching him, he thought it worthwhile to share his prayer, both for Clagg's sake and his family's.

"Sherra, hear me, for this is Ben, your servant, carried far from the land of my birth. Granted life from certain death. Blinded by your mysteries but dwelling in new hope," he offered, digging for a place deep inside that the goddess might hear. The people were moved by his undoubted reverence, and surprised by his mixture of Akronos, Arikhan, and a strange language they had never heard before. They did not understand all he was saying, but they understood enough.

"Long have I wondered why you brought me to this place, and what meaning it may have. I still don't know the answer. Maybe it's not my place to know, but I have no gods of my own to call upon. This is your world. These are your people. For their sake, I beg your guidance in this moment of need."

Grey glanced again at the new moon. Normally it was pale red, but in the light of the setting sun, it appeared yellow, very much like the moon of his youth. Is this Sherra's answer? he wondered. He caught his breath before twisting the bones with a quick snap of his wrists, feeling them slide past the relaxed muscles into alignment. Clagg let out a relieved sigh.

Grey breathed again, sweat dripping down his brow. His silent thank you was so profound that all could feel it even though he barely moved his lips.

"Shalli, give me the splints," Grey said.

Shalli was frozen for a moment, staring with no less wonder than she had in the tunnel. Her hands trembled as she passed him the carefully trimmed pieces of wood.

Grey wrapped the leg with strips of torn tunic and placed the splints as he'd been taught in survival training many years before, tightening the leather ties enough for support without cutting off the blood. Clagg was asleep by the time he was done.

"You did well," Cot said once they were outside the tent.

"Better than Thal has ever done," Hernet agreed. "Your battlefield medicine is stronger than her magic."

"If she ever had any magic," Shalli said. "I think she's false. Her only magic comes from the black bag, which isn't magic at all. It's medicine."

Myra emerged from the tent, tears running down her face, and she hugged Grey with all the thankfulness in her heart. Then she started to kneel in homage, as Shalli had done on the ridge. Grey instantly caught her and shook his head. Myra understood.

"Thal has cured many, but maybe it's as Shalli says," Beknar decided, her forehead wrinkled in thought. "Thal has been using medicine rather than magic. What do you think, Ben?"

"I think Thal has been greedy," he answered, low anger in his voice. "Medical knowledge is a gift that should be shared. Is Thal the reason your camp is so poor?"

"One of many reasons," Myra said. "The cave-in last year. The season we could not keep a full group in the gardens. Our hardships meeting quotas. But we should not speak of troubles tonight. The mountain did not take Clagg. Thal did not loot what little we have. And we have a new member in our camp. There is much to celebrate. We do have a new member in our camp, don't we, Ben?"

Grey looked embarrassed when he noticed everyone watching him, his eyes dropping shyly to the ground. A very curious reaction, thought most of the camp, for someone who had been issuing orders with such confidence only minutes before. Grey glanced toward the ridge where he had been living. Where his celestial calculations littered the cliff like so much worthless graffiti.

"Only if everyone agrees," he finally said. "It must be known that trouble follows me wherever I go. Many of my ways are different, and I can't say that will ever change. I would rather live on the mountain than cause dissension among your people."

"Does anyone object to Ben becoming a member of Ferret Camp?" Myra asked.

There was a moment of silence. Then Cot stepped forward.

"Welcome, brother," Cot said, wrapping a bony arm around Grey's shoulders.

"Welcome," Beknar said, touching his hand.

"Welcome from all of us," Hernet said, offering fur pants that Grey could wear over his worn breechcloth.

Pie gave Grey a pair of sandals. Myra found him a worn blue shirt. Shalli came forward wearing her yellow tunic, her blue eyes glittering in the light of the cooking fires.

"Welcome, Ben. Welcome so much," Shalli said.

She got up on her toes, giving him a long kiss on the lips that raised many eyebrows, her arms reaching around his neck and fingers tangling in his long brown hair. Red-faced, Grey gently put her back on her heels. He was, after all, a married man. And at seventeen, Shalli was hardly more than a child.

"Clagg needs blankets. There's still danger of shock," Grey said.

"Our blankets are gone. Traded for serums when the children took spring fevers," Beknar said.

"I've seen Deer Camp from the ridge. They have blankets," Grey mentioned.

"Deer Camp has been warned not to speak with us," Pie said, her soft brown eyes and long flaxen hair setting off her delicate features.

"Deer Camp is afraid. We were friends once, but Wolf Camp is jealous," Shalli said.

"It's dangerous to anger Wolf Camp," Myra explained. "Marne and his wolves have sent many to the pens. Raven Camp will be displeased, too, now that you've put black hands on Thal."

"The black hands looked good on Thal," Cot said, much to everyone's laughter.

"We'll gather grass mats to cover Clagg. Then we'll eat. Everyone is tired and hungry," Myra said.

"I'm going to ask Deer Camp for blankets," Grey announced, tucking in his new shirt and looking for the trail north.

"They won't help," Cot warned.

"I won't be gone long," Grey said before disappearing into the darkness.

"Should we call him back?" Hernet asked.

"Ben cannot be called back. He held up the mountain. He speaks to the gods," Shalli said.

"He put black hands on Thal," Banor said, his big smile missing two teeth.

"Someone should go with him," Beknar suggested.

Before Cot could ask for volunteers, Shalli dashed into the night, following Grey's trail.

Grey made his way along the dark path by moonlight, remembering the route he had seen from the ridge. He had not gone far when Shalli caught up.

"I know a better path," she said.

"You'll be safer back at camp."

"Clagg is my brother. It's my place to help him."

Grey had no argument for that, so he followed Shalli across a ravine and along a line of old ore tracks no longer in use. In daylight it would only have taken a few minutes to reach Deer Camp. Even in the dark, Shalli knew the way well enough that it wasn't long before they saw cooking fires in the middle of a dozen modest tents.

"What are you going to say?" Shalli asked.

"I will ask for blankets."

"They will not help."

"It hurts nothing to ask. I prefer you not mention the mountain or any other stories that may be hard to believe."

"But they're true," she said.

"It's my wish they not be mentioned," he insisted.

"Yes, master," Shalli said.

"Stop that," he demanded.

"Yes, master," Shalli repeated, laughing this time and flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder. He could not ignore how beautiful she appeared in the moonlight.

"Hello Deer Camp," Shalli said, emerging first into the firelight.

The men in the camp reached for wooden stools that could be used as clubs, the women retreating to the tents. All relaxed when they recognized Shalli. They were curious when they saw the stranger following a few paces behind.

"It's the spy," a craggy woman said, her long gray dress aged but in good condition.

"He's a member of Ferret Camp, and our friend," Shalli corrected.

"We've seen this stranger on the mountain. What brings him to the valley?" a tall young man asked.

"Clagg is hurt. His leg is broken. Ben helped us when Thal would not," Shalli explained. Many in the camp laughed.

"We saw Thal on the lake road. Did this stranger put the black hands on her?" a tall, slim man said, walking forward with the confidence of a leader. But still holding a stool. He wore a faded red leather vest, white canvas trousers, and calf-length rawhide boots. Unlike the men of Ferret Camp, and even his own camp, this man was clean-shaven.

"Yes, Nole, he did," Shalli said in a firm voice.

"You may enter Deer Camp," Nole said, putting the stool down.

"Did you untie her?" Shalli asked.

"Of course not. She showed the brands all the way back to Raven Camp," Nole said. Again everyone laughed. Grey could tell they thought it a good joke.

Grey was offered a stool near the main campfire. Shalli sat next to him on the ground. As he looked around, Grey noticed about forty adults and eight children. All were clothed, but not finely. The tents were in the same aged condition as Ferret Camp's, but there were more of them and generally larger. He saw more cooking utensils, too, but no better in quality.

"Ben, this is Nole, leader of Deer Camp," Shalli introduced. "That's Sal, his dig leader. Next to him is Sal's wife, Bab, and this is Nole's wife, Court. The boy is Turk, Sal's son. Members of Deer Camp, this is Ben, accepted member of Ferret Camp."

The leaders Shalli introduced were somewhat older than Clagg and Myra, being in their mid-thirties. Nole and Court were both tall with long brown hair and green eyes. A nice looking couple. Sal and Bab were even older, traces of gray showing in their otherwise black hair. Grey knew few people grow old in slave camps.

As for Turk, he realized Shalli was making a joke by calling him a boy. Probably seventeen years old, Turk stood half a head taller than average with shoulders that were already wide. Grey wondered if Shalli was teasing Turk because she found him attractive.

The eyes watching Grey were suspicious. He didn't believe them unfriendly, but many were worried. It wasn't a happy camp.

"I treated Clagg's leg. It will heal. He will be strong again," Grey said. "But there is risk of fever. He needs blankets to keep warm."

The circle remained silent.

"You ask us for blankets? For Ferret Camp?" Sal asked.

"For Clagg. The blankets will be returned," Grey said.

Silence again. Many shifted uncomfortably.

"We cannot help. Wolf Camp is angry with Clagg," Nole said with regret.

"Any who help him will have arms broken. Maybe sent to the pens," Sal said. "We are having trouble making quota as it is. Losing someone will leave us short."

"Women who tend the gardens will work the mines instead," a worried young woman said, a baby cradled in her arms. "Fewer women in the fields mean our food allotments will be reduced."

"And there will be no winter tunics for the girls," Bab said.

Now Grey was silent. There were thirty men around the fire, strong and able. But they were miners, not fighters. He didn't know whether to condemn them as cowards or pity their impotence.

"Are you sure Wolf Camp will seek retribution over a few blankets?" Grey asked.

"They've threatened any who help their enemies," Nole said. "Not just Clagg, but others. Lart stood up to them and they broke his arms. He is gone to the pens."

"We won't tell anyone where the blankets came from," Grey offered.

"It will be known. There are few secrets among the people," Nole said, looking around the fire. Grey wondered if Nole suspected informers within his own camp.

"Why is Wolf Camp angry with Clagg?" Grey asked.

"Mostly it's Marne who is angry. He put hands-- " Bab started to say. Her explanation broke off. Shalli had her head down.

"Marne wanted me, but not as a wife," Shalli said. "His wolves wanted sport. Clagg beat two of them and said he would hurt more if they didn't leave me alone."

"Clagg cannot hurt them now," Bab said, looking concerned for Shalli's safety. Grey noticed that Shalli was worried, too.

"You have hard problems," Grey said. "Still, Clagg is my friend and needs help. Is there anything I can say?"

"We're sorry," Nole answered. "We like Clagg. Most of us. We wish him well."

Nole stood up, the audience over. Grey noticed he hadn't been offered food or drink as custom would dictate. Deer Camp was frightened.

"Where is Tak?" Shalli asked, looking for a missing face in the crowd. The camp was silent. Many looked away. Court looked ready to cry.

"She isn't well," Nole said.

"Is she sick?" Shalli pressed.

"She is not well," Nole repeated.

Again there was silence. Something important wasn't being said.

"Can I see her?" Shalli asked.

"Do you not hear? Tak isn't well," Sal insisted with an angry grunt.

"Not well? Not well? She is destroyed! My little girl is destroyed! Sherra curse them!" Court suddenly screamed, bursting into hysteria.

Bab rushed to Court's side, holding her in her arms as the leader's wife sobbed.

"Marne's wolves carried her away after she left the gardens," Bab explained. "She fought back. They threw her in their torment pit. Five of them took her, including Marne. That was two days ago. Tak has not spoken since. She does not eat or sleep. She just sits and stares."

"She is destroyed. They destroyed my daughter," Court cried.

Bab tried to calm Court down. Nole went to hold his wife but was unable to console her.

"Where is she?" Grey asked.

"This is none of your business, stranger," young Turk said, reaching to throw Grey from the camp.

Grey caught Turk's wrist, bent his arm backward at the elbow, and soon had the strapping youngster kneeling on the ground in pain. When Turk tried to break free, Grey twisted the arm even more, nearly separating the shoulder. The men of the camp jumped to their feet in surprise.

"I can rip your arm in half. Is that what you want?" Grey whispered in a cold voice.

"No," Turk said, barely able to speak.

Grey released him and turned defiantly on the rest of the camp. Fire blazed in his eyes. He looked like a wildcat ready to pounce.

Shalli felt her heart beating faster. Ben was outnumbered, yet there he stood ready to take them on. She could not remember ever seeing anything so frightening. And thrilling. The men of Deer Camp were not anxious to test the stranger's resolve, stepping back as they looked to Nole.

"Where is the girl?" Grey said, breaking the silence.

"Over here, in our tent," Nole said, sensing a power in the stranger he never would have suspected. And the way he had subdued Turk, with hardly an effort, was taken as a warning. The stranger was dangerous. Not one to be defied without consequences. And yet he had not used force to take blankets for Clagg. It was a mystery that required careful study.

Nole was not alone in his thoughts. Many were startled by the sudden violence, but they were also curious. The adoration in young Shalli's eyes spoke volumes. She was not afraid. She worshipped him.

Grey entered the tent followed by Nole and Court. Huddled in the corner was a young woman hardly much older than Shalli, slightly taller but thin with an attractive figure and dark brunette hair. She stared blankly at a rusty miner's lamp illuminating the cramped quarters. Her face was bruised, her lower lip split. She had a red woolen blanket pulled tightly around her shoulders.

"She doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Even feeding her is difficult," Nole said.

Grey looked at the pain of the parents and glanced past them to see a stricken expression on Shalli's face. They must be friends, he realized. Grown up together. Played little girl games together. Dreamed and gossiped about boys. Now her friend was a shell, staring but not seeing. Grey was familiar with the condition. He even knew a little about possible treatments. He also knew many treatments failed, and the scars would run deep for the rest of her life.

He tried not to think too heavily on the past, but the memories were there. The more he thought about it, the more a desire for vengeance on these ones called wolves boiled in his heart. This wasn't the time.

"Leave us," Grey said.

"We cannot leave our daughter with a stranger," Nole protested.

"If you can leave your daughter to the mercy of a raping wolf pack, you can leave her with me. Now shut your mouth and get out," Grey ordered.

Grey's tone wasn't likely to ingratiate himself with the Deer Camp leader, but Court pulled her husband back and drew down the tent flap, desperate to find help for her daughter. The only noise outside the tent was the crackling of the cooking fires, and after a time, the sound of people quietly eating their meals.

Grey sat cross-legged in front of Tak, not moving or touching her for quite some time. He suppressed his anger, focusing on the young woman only, searching deeply through his experience. What would Doctor Meriwether say? Or Master Shao? Yes, what would the old shaman suggest? Give up? Give in? Feel sorry for yourself? No. Never. Fight back!

This is a hard culture, he thought. There are no weaklings in Karak. This is a life of challenge and survival. It's also a life of love, with powerful bonds of family and camp. These feelings are still inside her, beaten back by the horror of the attack. Can I draw her spirit forth?

The miner's lamp flickered against the sides of the dark tent as a gentle wind caused the canvas to rustle. He found a piece of jewelry on the fur, a small silver medallion on a chain that reflected the light. He toyed with the shiny object, letting it slowly swing back and forth where Tak would be sure to see it.

"My name is Benjamin," he said, softly and without expectation of a response. "I've come to take you on a journey. It's a long journey. We'll take it together. When the journey is over, we'll come back together. Court and Nole will be waiting for you. Deer Camp will be waiting for you. Your friends will smile to see you return, and those who hurt you will never hurt you again. My name is Benjamin. I held up a mountain. I once saved a world."

Grey began talking in quiet, carefully modulated tones. So quietly no one outside the tent heard more than occasional mumbling. He told the story of an orphaned child raised on an abandoned mining colony. Of intense loneliness. Of fears, real and imagined. Years of hard work, constant danger, and betrayal. There was the story of the beautiful Russian girl he had failed to save. Who died on an operating table while he could only watch. What followed were dark fantasies of violent death sought in pursuit of deep revenge. And a greater duty that made all of his gloomy imaginings impossible.

And then there was a woman he had struggled to love. But how could he love? He who was raised in such isolation, without parents, family or friends? He who could never love anyone. And then he lost her. Lost his friends. Lost everything because an ancient duty was more important than anything else. But it was no longer a duty bred into him. Not an obligation dictated by necessity. He did love. At last. And it was such a love that it was worth dying for. And he did.

The sun was rising as he approached the end of their journey. His journey, which Tak was allowed to join without pressure to participate. Tears were running down her cheeks.

"Where an old path ends, a new path begins," he said, believing he saw a spark in her eyes. He raised his hand, held the outside of his palm to her mouth, and pushed gently against her lips.

"Bite my hand," he said.

Tak didn't respond.

"Bite my hand," he said again.

She shook her head.

"Bite my hand. Bite hard," he gently ordered.

Tak started to pull back, then suddenly bit into the side of his hand, her teeth sinking into the rough, calloused flesh.

"Harder. Don't be afraid. Don't ever be afraid again. Bite!"

Tak bit harder. She bit until she drew blood. Bit until his blood was running down her chin.

"Now hit me," he said. "Now! Do it!"

Tak let go of his hand and struck him with her small fist, whacking his shoulder. The first blow wasn't hard, but she struck again and then began pounding with both fists as she vented her rage and frustration. Her breathing grew labored, the tears falling freely. Then suddenly she stopped, her gaze steady, looking Grey in the face with big brown watery eyes.

"Court, come here," Grey called.

Court burst into the tent. Within seconds, Tak was sobbing in her mother's arms. Nole followed and Tak hugged him, sad but filled with love for those she had almost lost.

Grey silently slipped out of the tent. The sun was hovering over the forested mountains to the east. Curled in a ball on the ground outside the tent, Shalli had awakened to hear the noise inside.

"You're bleeding," Shalli said, seeing the bite marks on his hand.

"That happens to me a lot," he said. "I'm tired. Let's go home."

The walk back didn't take long. He enjoyed the cool morning, looking at the moist vegetation that grew along the trail. The trees and bushes were different than those found on Earth, but in most ways, very similar. He noticed several small birds chirping in the foliage.

"Will Tak be all right?" Shalli asked.

"Time will tell," he said.

"Do you think Tak will be all right?" Shalli persisted, growing accustomed to his way of not answering questions directly.

"Yes, I think she'll be all right," he responded hopefully.

"I'm glad it's the rest day," Shalli said. "Meeting our quota is going to be hard with Clagg hurt. Will it take many days for his leg to heal?"

"It will take at least six weeks. Clagg is big and restless. It will probably take eight," Grey speculated.

"Eight weeks! Without quota the masters won't give us fall supplies. If we all work the mines, there are none to take our places in the gardens. Ben, what are we going to do?"

"We'll make quota. The women will take their places in the gardens."

"Not without Clagg."

"Clagg will be missed, but the others are strong. I think one day young Burne will be even stronger than Clagg," Grey said.

They reached Ferret Camp and Grey went straight to the community tent. Clagg was asleep under a makeshift covering of clothing parts and straw mats, his bare feet sticking out the end.

"We were worried. We sent Wart to spy on Deer Camp, but all was quiet, so he returned," Myra said.

"Marne's wolves went after Tak," Shalli reported. "Five of them had her in their torment pit. Tak wouldn't talk or see. Court was afraid Tak would never speak again. Ben helped her not feel so bad, and now Tak will be all right."

"They could not give us blankets," Grey said.

"I told you, they are afraid of Marne. Everyone is," Myra said.

"When Clagg feels better, I will visit the gardens and see Wolf Camp. I would like to meet Marne," Grey mentioned.

Myra and Shalli had a feeling that Grey didn't intend for his meeting with Marne to be pleasant. He showed no emotion on the subject, going to the back of the community tent and finding a place to sleep.

"Beknar and I will take the older women to the gardens. I don't want you or Pie anywhere near those wolves until Clagg is healthy again," Myra told Shalli. "Now help make breakfast. There isn't much cereal left, but I think we can add some meadow root."

Shalli joined Myra sorting out the last of the week's rations, finding just enough stock for the broth and some wild oats for substance. Soon the rest of the camp stirred.

"Shalli is right," Cot said as Myra put soup over the fire. "I don't know how we'll meet quota without Clagg. The masters will be displeased. But if we can't attend the gardens, we'll have to scrounge roots and bark from the woods."

"We only have ten tunics left for the women, and they're nearly worn through," Banor said, the burly cart pusher resentfully tapping the ground with a stick. "It's bad enough some must wear rags in camp. I don't want them walking to the gardens like that."

"It would be embarrassing, but we've suffered worse," Myra said. "I wish we could have gotten a blanket for Clagg. Every tunic we have still doesn't cover him."

"All the tunics in Karak cannot cover Clagg," Hernet said. Everybody laughed.

"Hello Ferret Camp," someone shouted from the woods. The camp jumped to their feet, the men grabbing branches to use as clubs.

"Who calls?" Cot asked, taking the lead position.

Nole emerged from the ravine near the camp, followed by Sal and Bab. Ferret Camp relaxed, many sitting down on their log seats.

"How is Clagg?" Nole asked.

"He is well, thank Sherra," Myra said, her face flushed red.

Sal and Bab noticed that Myra was not the only half-naked woman in camp. A glance inside the tent explained why. Clagg was covered in a quilt of tunics. The women of Ferret Camp felt awkward but there was nothing to be done.

"Come join us," Myra said.

"Here, these are for Clagg. A gift from Court and Nole," Bab said, presenting Myra with several large woven blankets.

"We have nothing to offer in return," Myra said.

Bab saw Myra meant that literally. Nole took the blankets and forced them into Myra's hands.

"We have our daughter back, and we're ashamed of our behavior," Nole said to all. "Put the blankets on Clagg. Get dressed. We'll sit and talk."

The women rushed to the tent and parceled out the tunics, finding just enough to give each person a bit of dignity. Clagg woke up and soon the leaders moved into the tent. To everyone's surprise, Grey continued to sleep, so voices were kept low.

"Sal, look," Bab whispered when she noticed Shalli and Beknar scrounging unsuccessfully for more food. Sal nodded and left the tent, going to the ravine. A minute later, he returned with several large baskets of grain bread, orange squash and greens.

"We did not wish to insult you by bringing food, but we weren't sure if you had enough. Little is known of Ferret Camp's hardships," Nole explained.

"Pride is a luxury these days," Myra said, handing the baskets to Shalli and Pie. The children smiled to see the orange squash, crowding close for a piece.

"There are a few extra tunics in Deer Camp that no one needs. I'll have Leet bring them over," Bab offered.

"If no one wants them, it will be welcome," Myra said. "I don't wish to be rude, but why the sudden generosity? Have you lost fear of Marne?"

"No, we are still afraid," Nole said.

"I'll put a stop to Marne once I can walk again," Clagg said, still sleepy from the drugs.

"Clagg is only one against many. Even if Deer Camp and Ferret Camp joined together, Wolf Camp is still bigger," Nole said. "And they would call upon Raven Camp, outnumbering us by even more."

"We can't make quota without Clagg. If some of us are injured fighting, it will be worse. We must appease Marne," Cot said.

"That will be hard. Do you know what they did to Tak?" Bab asked.

"We heard this morning. We're very sorry," Myra said.

"She's getting better now, thanks to the stranger. Where did he come from? Is he a spy?" Nole asked.

"Ben is not a spy," Clagg said.

"What does Ferret Camp have to spy on?" Myra asked.

Nole and Sal looked around, seeing nothing worth the effort.

"He put black hands on Thal," Nole said, a question in the tone.

"When the mountain wanted Clagg, Ben--" Cot started to explain.

"Ben is very brave, but he doesn't wish stories told about him," Shalli interrupted, remembering Grey's admonition from the night before. Clagg and Myra looked at her in surprise, but nodded agreement. This made the Deer Camp members even more curious. There are few secrets in such a small community. They would find out eventually.

Just as the meal was being served, a new commotion disturbed the camp.

"It's Nabbatron. Frontra and Nabbatron," Pie warned, rushing into the tent.

The people set aside the food and dropped to their knees as the two Arikhan sentries walked into the clearing. Frontra was calm. Nabbatron agitated. They wore brown leather tunics and large floppy hats for protection from the sun. Their holsters contained various weapons for controlling the slaves, most of them non-lethal but capable of inflicting great pain. No one thought their sudden appearance on the rest day a good thing.

"Welcome to Ferret Camp, masters," Myra said, kneeling closest.

Myra heard Clagg trying to get up and thought of going to stop him, but she could not risk offending the alien overseers. She glanced back to see Grey had awakened and put a hand on Clagg's shoulder, instructing him to stay put. Myra sighed with relief.

"There, in the tent," Nabbatron said, pointing at Clagg.

Nabbatron and Frontra walked past the kneeling slaves and stood at the entrance of the tent. Clagg remained on his back. Grey knelt in homage, keeping one hand on Clagg's arm.

"He is crippled, just as the healer claimed. He must go to the pens," Nabbatron said, his voice a deep growl.

"I am sorry to see it so serious," Frontra said, seeming to agree.

"May I speak, beings of great superiority?" Grey asked in Arikhan, his voice humble. The aliens noticed that his diction was reasonably good for a lesser species.

"Speak," Frontra said.

"The big food creature is not crippled, only injured," he said. "In a matter of weeks he will be strong again and ready for the mines."

"It is a lie. The healer said he is crippled," Nabbatron asserted.

"I put black hands on the healer," Grey responded.

"I have heard much of these black hands," Frontra said, her eye-rings rising in inquiry. "It is spoken of in every camp. In what manner were black hands put upon her? What is the meaning?"

"The black hands were put upon her in the name of Sherra. They show all that her magic is false," Grey answered.

"There is no such thing as magic, and Sherra does not help food creatures. Sherra's gifts are for her eggs alone," Nabbatron said, his heavier eye-rings curling inward.

Grey noticed Frontra flinch at the remark, the webbing around the back of her head ruffling, and had the distinct impression that she disagreed with Nabbatron's philosophy. He remembered, towards the end, that the Arikhan scout Mordari, who he had known in a different solar system under far different circumstances, had expressed similar doubts.

"It hurts none to see if the injury heals. If it does not, he will still be food," Frontra said, adding a gentle click of her tongue.

"They cannot make quota. The camp should be dispersed, the weak harvested," Nabbatron persisted.

A quiet gasp rose from the kneeling slaves. Shalli clung tighter to Garn. Banor took Beknar's hand, hoping it wasn't for the last time. Nole wondered which of his neighbors might not see another sunrise.

"Pardon me, being of great superiority, but your opinion is in error," Grey said.

Nabbatron stepped into the tent, grabbed Grey by his metal collar, and struck him across the face with a clenched claw. It was a hard blow, the large alien having a well-developed physique. The other camp members kept their heads down, afraid to intervene.

"What did you say, food creature?" Nabbatron asked.

"I said your opinion is in error," Grey repeated, only to be struck again so hard that blood splattered on Clagg. Clagg grabbed Grey's elbow and pulled him back, trying to shelter him with his arm.

"Please, master, Ben is a stranger to our ways. If I must go to the pens, then I go. Please do not harm the camp," Clagg said, his tired eyes pleading.

"The leader of Ferret Camp should not beg favors from a coward," Grey said in Arikhan, completing the insult with a sharp click of his tongue. Nabbatron flew into a rage, taking a shock wand from his belt.

"Nabbatron, control yourself," Frontra cautioned, putting a claw on his arm.

"The food creature called me a coward," Nabbatron protested.

"It is only a food creature, why should its words matter?" Frontra replied.

Nabbatron slowed his breathing to regain composure. He knew it wasn't good to overreact in front of the slaves.

"In what manner is my opinion in error, food creature?" Nabbatron asked, releasing Grey as he lowered the wand.

Though stunned from the blows, Grey managed to clear his head. He saw the entire camp was frightened. It couldn't be helped. He adjusted position and knelt at Nabbatron's feet, his forehead pressed against the toes of Nabbatron's boots. Nabbatron was mollified, looking at Frontra with satisfaction.

"Being of great superiority, Ferret Camp will make quota," Grey said. "I would offer a proposition."

"You set terms?" Nabbatron asked.

"A proposition," Grey said, pretending more fear than he actually felt. Not that he wasn't apprehensive.

"Speak," Nabbatron ordered, his tongue clicking in amusement.

"Ferret Camp will make quota. In reward, Ferret Camp would be gifted with new tunics for the women, shirts for the men, and medicines for the children. And a fur hat for Clagg's woman."

"You ask much. What happens when you fail?" Nabbatron asked.

"If we fail, Clagg will go to the pens, and I will go with him," Grey said.

The camp burst into involuntary murmuring, many finding it hard to keep their places. Nabbatron was pleased with the offer and enjoyed the fearful reaction of the camp.

"It will be as you say, food creature," Nabbatron said.

Nabbatron pulled Grey's head up so he could look directly into the slave's eyes. The alien's soft brown cheeks had flushed dark, the blacks of his pupils focused with a malevolent intensity. The upper lip curled back, revealing sharp fangs useful for tearing flesh, and the thick rings above his eyes rose in evidence of his intent.

"Remember this, half-meat," Nabbatron added, his voice lowered to a disturbing snarl. "When you fail, I will personally put you to the spit. Your death will be slow."

Nabbatron wheeled about and left the camp, much to everyone's relief. Even Frontra's, whose wide shoulders quickly relaxed.

"You may rise," Frontra said.

"Thank you, mistress," Myra said, hurrying to check on Clagg before treating the bruises on Grey's face. Grey spit blood and was relieved not to have lost any teeth.

"You are too bold," Clagg complained.

"Would you rather go to the pens?" Grey asked.

"I would rather not take a friend with me," Clagg answered.

"It's a sucker bet. We'll make quota and more," Grey said, seemingly unconcerned.

"Sucker bet?" Myra asked.

"A wager with a foregone conclusion," he explained.

"Only death is a foregone conclusion," Myra said.

"Not in my experience," Grey sighed.

"Come," Frontra ordered, having Grey follow her out of camp where others wouldn't overhear.

When she stopped on the trail around the edge of the trees, he dropped to his knees at her feet.

"Stand up, impertinent food creature. Nabbatron may be fooled by such tricks. He is arrogant, as are all males. I understand you better."

"Yes, mistress," he said, standing up.

"Can this camp really make quota?" Frontra asked, eye-rings dipping.

"I believe so, mistress. It will be hard, but it should be possible."

"You told Myra it is a forgone conclusion," Frontra said.

"The people are discouraged. They need hope."

Frontra took his face in her claw, turning it from side to side, inspecting the bruises and bleeding lip.

"You have made an enemy of Nabbatron," Frontra warned.

"I make many enemies. It cannot be helped," he replied.

Frontra clicked her tongue in approval.

"The healer's instruments must be returned. If you make quota, I will have another kit issued to Ferret Camp."

"Thank you, mistress," Grey said in surprise.

"You need not return her stolen coverings. She was given black hands instead," Frontra added.

Until that moment, Grey hadn't realized that Frontra didn't care for Thal's methods any more than he did. Her attitude surprised him.

"I enjoy you, food creature. But you are rash. Be careful," Frontra warned.

"Thank you, mistress," Grey said, bowing his head in appreciation.

Frontra went north, following the trail Nabbatron had taken. When Grey returned to camp, he found everyone staring at him, their expressions filled with curiosity.

"Is breakfast ready?" he asked.

* * * * * * *

Grey is finally accepting is new life, but he was a risk taker in his old life and that hasn't changed.