Cave Geeks II, Chapter 19, and tdancinghands.com, Back online!
Had some issues with my host to work out, but they were very nice about everything, and we should have no trouble from here on in. Just to give credit where credit is due, Startlogic's help line and service have always been really terrific, and I can definitely recommend them.
And now on to our story...
Title: Clan of the Cave Geeks Book II: The Warrior of Honor
Author: Taylor Dancinghands -laughingunicorn@gmail.com
Characters/Pairings: Zelenka/McKay, Beckett/Lorne, and eventually Sheppard/Weir, plus: Teyla, Ronon, Stackhouse, Markham, Miller, Cadman, Halling, and Jinto, and a big ol’ pile of OCs
Category: slash, drama, action/adventure, h/c, AU
Warnings: Sloppy Paleolithic history, anachronistic technological leaps and funnied up names.
Rating: NC-17, explicit M/M and eventually M/F sex depictions
Summary: So what does a bonafide genius do in an era of stone knives and bear skins?
Spoilers/Season: none
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will, not claiming to. Just wanna play with 'em a little. Can't I, can't I, huh?
Beta:Many thanks to my most worthy betareader
smingus for her encouragement and feedback. We loves our betareaders we does.
Chapter 19
Understanding that R'dek's conversation with Shef'hred had needed to be private had not removed the temptation Li'bet felt to eavesdrop on it, but she resisted. The very fact that it had taken place, however, was powerful evidence of the sort that she needed to take to Lakeside's elders, to convince them that Shef'hred might be safely released from his bonds.
He'd taken pains to disguise his discomforts as she'd dined with him that morning, and more that evening, but the facts of the matter made his feigned nonchalance pointless. Anyone bound so that their legs could not be straightened for more than three days would inevitably be suffering, especially one so accustomed to physical activity as Shef'hred must have been.
She knew there'd already been talk, and she hadn't missed the black looks surreptitiously aimed in her direction from some of the bakers, when she'd gone to fetch food for him, and at one time this might have worried her. She'd been headwoman of Lakeside for more than fifteen summers now, however, and she knew she had the loyalty of the better part of its residents. She had the freedom now, though she'd never taken it before, to do something a little controversial.
Asking for approval for their prisoner to walk freely among them might strike some as more than a little controversial, she knew, so she spent almost two days gauging people's feelings about the idea, and garnering support. It was late in the afternoon of that second day that she'd arranged to meet with the elders, and happily, Teleya had offered to support her idea before them. While Li'bet knew that R'dek would not be so keen on vouching for Shef'hred's character before Lakeside's elders, Teleya at least would be able to report on the tenor of their conversation, and that ought to count for a lot, she hoped.
And in the end, it had. What had sealed the deal was her insistence that Shef'hred first agree to making some sort of reparation, and Li'bet had thought of the perfect means to do that. She had thought it perfect, anyhow, and so had the elders -Hallen especially- but now it remained to be seen as to whether Shef'hred would think the same.
She dined with Shef'hred that morning on fresh bread with honey and tea, and the day was fair and pleasant, but it was too clear that the man had slept little if at all the night before. He was in some pain now, as well, and was hiding it badly, trying to eat though he obviously had little appetite. It dawned on Li'bet then that making him agree to anything when he was in such distress would be tantamount to forcing him under duress. It could never be an honest agreement.
There were times, Li'bet knew, that a headwoman must take certain autonomous actions, though she must be wise to know these times rightly. She would be staking much on her accurate assessment of Shef'hred's character, and if she was wrong then she risked a great deal, possibly even her life. No one can know another's heart, but she thought she knew how to catch a glimpse of Shef'hred's, and give credence to the certainty she already felt. She leaned forward to place a gently hand on Shef'hre'd own, as he chewed disinterestedly on his bread, calling his attention to the seriousness of her intent.
"Shef'hred," she said, "when you speak of how you have lost your honor, I see in you an honest grief, and though you insist that it is something that is beyond regaining, I believe that a part of you longs for the chance, would do anything for such a possibility." She met her eyes now with the utmost sincerity, and he seemed taken off guard by it.
"Tell me Shef'hred," she asked, insistent, "is that true?"
Shef'hred's gaze was caught in hers for a moment, and he seemed almost startled, but he broke away a moment later to stare down and to the side. Under her hand she felt his form a fist, then relax again. "Yes," he said at last, still not meeting her gaze.
Li'bet nodded, her certainty like a rock. "Sit forward," she commanded, and when he did she drew her knife from her belt -a gift from R'dek last Midwinters- and cut the thongs binding his ankles to his waist, and then the ones securing his feet. When he looked up at her in surprise, she caught his hands and cut those bindings too, then lifted the knife to show him.
"R'dek the Toolmaker, whom I believe you have met," she said with a smile, "made the knife that freed you. I thought you might be interested to know."
"Bet he'd be interested too," Shef'hred said, grimacing as he struggled to shift his position. "Please excuse me for a moment, Headw... Li'bet -this may take a little bit." He ended up tipping himself over onto his side, then ever so slowly extending first one leg, then the other, groaning loudly as he did.
Li'bet winced to see his face contort in undisguised agony as he straightened his long confined limbs. "I am so sorry," she murmured, shaking her head in dismay. "We should never have kept you like this so long."
"S'okay," Shef'hred muttered, having now rolled onto his front so that his face was pressed into the grass. "Your guys loosened things up a couple times a day so I could take care of, you know, personal stuff... It's not so bad."
The small, pained noises Shef'hred continued to make suggested otherwise, and reminded Li'bet of the knots she used to tie herself into when she'd lose herself in a project on her small tapestry loom and spend all day long on her knees. Ca'dell would come home to find her barely able to stand, and then he'd lay her out on their bed and work the knots out with his strong hands. Her hands, Li'bet reflected now, were not so large, nor likely so strong, but perhaps they were strong enough.
Sitakhus, guarding Shef'hred this morning, was already looking at them strangely, though he had been told that Shef'hred would be released from his bonds. The noises he was making were just a bit alarming, but a glance in their direction showed the guard that nothing was amiss, even as the sounds Shef'hred made changed abruptly when Li'bet began to knead the backs of his calves, massaging out the abused and neglected muscles there.
"Whu...?" he mumbled, turning his head to the side to try and see what she was doing.
"My man used to do this for me," Li'bet explained, "when I'd spent all day on my knees, weaving. Is it helping any?"
"Oh hell yes," Shef'hred groaned, in a way that suggested other sorts of pleasures, and Sitakhus seemed to think so too, the way he was frowning at the both of them. He could see for himself, Li'bet knew, that nothing inappropriate was happening, but she could also see that he didn't quite approve. Well, rumors would fly, regardless; Li'bet knew better than to fret about that and continued to work over Shef'hred's abused muscles until the tremors decreased to almost nothing.
"Man..." Shef'hred said, ever so slowly pushing himself over to lie on his side, then, moving like an old man, pushing himself upright to rest his back against the pole to which he had been bound. "Thank you for that," he said, artifice stripped away by the pain. "So... I'm guessing what you were talking about earlier... that chance for me to regain my honor, wasn't just hypothetical, was it?"
"No, it wasn't," Li'bet said. "But it's our sort of honor, not yours, and does involve some... manual labor. If you can't do that, well, I wouldn't have your legs bound again, but..."
"So I'm going to have to earn my freedom, is that it?" Shef'hred asked.
"Not exactly," Li'bet said. "If you agree to this, you'll have your freedom, for what it's worth. Doing this work... it would be more about proving your honor."
"And what does that matter to you?" Shef'hred asked, no hostility in his voice, but much confusion. Li'bet shrugged.
"We would not give dishonorable persons the freedom of our village," she explained. "You would be watched, to start with, to be sure you do no harm to anyone or anything, but if you chose to run away, so be it. There is your freedom. Once you prove your honor among us, however, you would have the freedom to go or stay, if you wished."
"And why would I want to stay here?" Shef'hred asked, and Li'bet could see that while he believed his honor lost, Shef'hred still had his pride, and he struggled with it now.
"I have no idea," she said meeting his eyes honestly. "As I said, you would have your freedom, as you have it now... but where else would you go?" That was cruel, Li'bet knew, but for all that Shef'hred's pride was a fine thing, it would hold him back now. Her words had struck a blow to it, though, and it saddened her to see how it hurt him.
"Nowhere," he said, barely audible as he stared down at his hands.
"Shef'hred," she said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "If it didn't matter to me, I would tell you to go take your freedom now, and never to let yourself been seen in these parts again, and I've no doubt that there are many in this village who would just as soon you did, but I and others take the long view. In that view, we might have better confidence that you would not remain nearby, laying in wait for a chance at vengance, if we settled things between us."
"Maybe," Shef'hred said, in the tone of a man grudgingly conceding a point.
"For my part," Li'bet took a breath, preparing to go a little ways out on a limb. "I honestly do believe that our village would be the better for having you become part of it, and that, over time, you would truly be accepted, even welcomed."
"Right," Shef'hred's snort of derision had a bitter edge to it, but Li'bet could hardly blame him. "'Over time.' I'll be welcomed into my grave when I die of old age; that's when I'll be welcome here."
"By some," Li'bet admitted with a little smile. "Others will find it easy enough to welcome you once you have done your part in rebuilding the fishing dock, assuming you do it well and with a good will."
Shef'hred glanced over in the direction of the lake and the remains of the dock, assessing and apparently finding the task acceptable. "And what about the ones who don't?" he asked.
"There are over two hundred men, women and children in this village," Li'bet pointed out. "Surely you can't imagine that every one of them gets along with everyone else."
"I guess that makes sense," Shef'hred conceded, perhaps seeing in her chagrined smile the many times she'd been called on to referee in various village feuds. "So... rebuilding the dock, huh? Is this something I'm gonna have to do by myself? Because, I don't figure it will come as any surprise to you, but I've never done work like that before in my life."
"And I don't imagine that it will come as any surprise to you," Li'bet answered, "that no one is terribly keen on having you work unsupervised, for numerous reasons. Hallen has volunteered to oversee the project, and you. He's a good man, and he'll treat you fairly."
Shef'hred nodded, wincing a little as he stretched his legs again. "Will I be starting today?" he asked.
"No," Li'bet said, shaking her head. "We thought it would be better to give you a day to recover, but if you'd like to stretch your legs with a little walk later, I'll have Hallen come by and give you an overview of what you'll be doing."
"And if I'd like to go on a little walk by myself?" Shef'hred asked. Li'bet gave a half frown.
"Until we get to... know you better, there will be someone with you at all times," she said, "and for now, it might be wisest to stay in this area. With time, I hope, people will get used to seeing you around the village, but just now... feelings are still running a little high."
"Yeah, makes sense..." Shef'hred said, sounding a touch bitter as he looked out over the grassland, away from the village. Reconsidering his options, Li'bet imagined. The man didn't have many, and that had to rankle someone accustomed to so much freedom.
"I have the things we took from you, when you were captured," she offered, knowing that there was no comfort she could offer him for his lost former life of freedom and privilege. "I'd be happy to return them to you," she continued. "All except the knife, I'm afraid, for now. I'll keep it for you though. I promise it won't go to anyone else."
"My jewelry, you mean?" Shef'hred asked her, his expression difficult to read, but not particularly happy. "I can't wear it anymore. It was the mark that I'd earned myself a band, and was their leader." He shook his head and Li'bet could see that what she'd meant to be a peace offering was only bringing the man bitterness and grief.
"I'm sorry," she said, hoping that he would hear the sincerity in her voice. "I... I didn't think what it might mean to you. I only meant to return what was yours."
"Why would you know?" Shef'hred replied, his voice bleak. "Your people have no such marks, no such honors. You know as little about my people as I know about yours."
Li'bet knew that Shef'hred hadn't meant the remark to be cutting, but it had been. She'd let herself spin a foolish fairy tale that Shef'hred would happily reject everything from his old life and leave it behind without regrets. That, of course, had been terribly ignorant, and she felt more disappointed in herself than anything.
"Of course," she said, subdued. "I'm afraid I've been stupid, and I am sorry. What would you like me to do with them?"
Shef'hred shrugged -a painful gesture. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe, see if the people who lost... homes, family members, if they want them? Divide it between them, if they do... And give the knife to the toolmaker. Tell him that the knife he made freed me when you do, and then tell him to ask himself whose knife is better. I know I am."
Shef'hred's knife was of bronze, the strange, hard, brown metal that Li'bet had heard of but never seen or touched before. R'dek's eyes went dreamy when he spoke of it, as other men's did when one spoke of gold or other riches, and she wondered what he would make of Shef'hred's gift. The rest of Shef'hred's small treasure trove of ornaments and jewelry included four rings, a pair of bracers, a torque and a wide, flat neck piece, and a handful of hair ornaments, all made of shiny, polished copper. She herself, considered 'wealthy' by the standards of Lakeside, had a single bracelet and hair ornament made of this metal, and no one else in the village had any such.
Without a doubt, more than a few of the families who had lost loved ones in the battle would refuse these offerings from the captive raider leader, but others would accept them happily. Of course, Li'bet had a feeling that no small measure of jealousy and avarice might well be generated by these gifts, and conflict spring between those that accepted them and those who did not. For a moment she considered throwing them all into the lake, but the waist of such an action was unconscionable. They were bound to see more such things in the days to come, and they must all learn to deal with them.
Li'bet, for her part, had to learn to deal with the fact that making Shef'hred welcome in Lakeside, insofar as she was able, was not going to make Shef'hred a happy man. The raider was never going to forget or disregard who he had been for half his life, and it was unfair and unrealistic of Li'bet to imagine that he might. She looked up to regard the man, leaning in feigned relaxation against the pole he'd been tied to for four days, and realized that where she'd intended to bring him hope and encouragement today, all she'd brought him was pain and grief. Suddenly Li'bet found she was doubting herself, as she had not in many summers -not since her first days as headwoman.
"Forgive me," Li'bet said, feeling terribly uneasy. "I'll do as you've requested, with your things, but I need to be on my way for now. I'll... probably be back this evening, and someone will bring you something to eat at midday. It's probably best for now that you let us bring you food here..."
"Sure," said Shef'hred, looking up at her a little worriedly as she stood. "I'll be fine."
"Good, good," Li'bet said, brushing the grass off her hands once she was up. "Then I'll bid you both," she glanced over at Sitakhus, "fair day," and then she was off, already turned away and walking as she heard both men's returned farewells. She would do as Shef'hred requested, though she knew some trouble would surely arise from it. Trouble would arise no matter what she did, she realized, and it would be a test of her leadership skills as no other.
Drawing a long, uneasy breath, Li'bet considered how best she might distribute the raider's troubled legacy throughout her village, and not cause it to be torn apart at the seams.
****
Next week: the Toolmaker gets a new knife
And now on to our story...
Title: Clan of the Cave Geeks Book II: The Warrior of Honor
Author: Taylor Dancinghands -laughingunicorn@gmail.com
Characters/Pairings: Zelenka/McKay, Beckett/Lorne, and eventually Sheppard/Weir, plus: Teyla, Ronon, Stackhouse, Markham, Miller, Cadman, Halling, and Jinto, and a big ol’ pile of OCs
Category: slash, drama, action/adventure, h/c, AU
Warnings: Sloppy Paleolithic history, anachronistic technological leaps and funnied up names.
Rating: NC-17, explicit M/M and eventually M/F sex depictions
Summary: So what does a bonafide genius do in an era of stone knives and bear skins?
Spoilers/Season: none
Disclaimer: Don't own 'em, never will, not claiming to. Just wanna play with 'em a little. Can't I, can't I, huh?
Beta:Many thanks to my most worthy betareader
smingus for her encouragement and feedback. We loves our betareaders we does.Chapter 19
Understanding that R'dek's conversation with Shef'hred had needed to be private had not removed the temptation Li'bet felt to eavesdrop on it, but she resisted. The very fact that it had taken place, however, was powerful evidence of the sort that she needed to take to Lakeside's elders, to convince them that Shef'hred might be safely released from his bonds.
He'd taken pains to disguise his discomforts as she'd dined with him that morning, and more that evening, but the facts of the matter made his feigned nonchalance pointless. Anyone bound so that their legs could not be straightened for more than three days would inevitably be suffering, especially one so accustomed to physical activity as Shef'hred must have been.
She knew there'd already been talk, and she hadn't missed the black looks surreptitiously aimed in her direction from some of the bakers, when she'd gone to fetch food for him, and at one time this might have worried her. She'd been headwoman of Lakeside for more than fifteen summers now, however, and she knew she had the loyalty of the better part of its residents. She had the freedom now, though she'd never taken it before, to do something a little controversial.
Asking for approval for their prisoner to walk freely among them might strike some as more than a little controversial, she knew, so she spent almost two days gauging people's feelings about the idea, and garnering support. It was late in the afternoon of that second day that she'd arranged to meet with the elders, and happily, Teleya had offered to support her idea before them. While Li'bet knew that R'dek would not be so keen on vouching for Shef'hred's character before Lakeside's elders, Teleya at least would be able to report on the tenor of their conversation, and that ought to count for a lot, she hoped.
And in the end, it had. What had sealed the deal was her insistence that Shef'hred first agree to making some sort of reparation, and Li'bet had thought of the perfect means to do that. She had thought it perfect, anyhow, and so had the elders -Hallen especially- but now it remained to be seen as to whether Shef'hred would think the same.
She dined with Shef'hred that morning on fresh bread with honey and tea, and the day was fair and pleasant, but it was too clear that the man had slept little if at all the night before. He was in some pain now, as well, and was hiding it badly, trying to eat though he obviously had little appetite. It dawned on Li'bet then that making him agree to anything when he was in such distress would be tantamount to forcing him under duress. It could never be an honest agreement.
There were times, Li'bet knew, that a headwoman must take certain autonomous actions, though she must be wise to know these times rightly. She would be staking much on her accurate assessment of Shef'hred's character, and if she was wrong then she risked a great deal, possibly even her life. No one can know another's heart, but she thought she knew how to catch a glimpse of Shef'hred's, and give credence to the certainty she already felt. She leaned forward to place a gently hand on Shef'hre'd own, as he chewed disinterestedly on his bread, calling his attention to the seriousness of her intent.
"Shef'hred," she said, "when you speak of how you have lost your honor, I see in you an honest grief, and though you insist that it is something that is beyond regaining, I believe that a part of you longs for the chance, would do anything for such a possibility." She met her eyes now with the utmost sincerity, and he seemed taken off guard by it.
"Tell me Shef'hred," she asked, insistent, "is that true?"
Shef'hred's gaze was caught in hers for a moment, and he seemed almost startled, but he broke away a moment later to stare down and to the side. Under her hand she felt his form a fist, then relax again. "Yes," he said at last, still not meeting her gaze.
Li'bet nodded, her certainty like a rock. "Sit forward," she commanded, and when he did she drew her knife from her belt -a gift from R'dek last Midwinters- and cut the thongs binding his ankles to his waist, and then the ones securing his feet. When he looked up at her in surprise, she caught his hands and cut those bindings too, then lifted the knife to show him.
"R'dek the Toolmaker, whom I believe you have met," she said with a smile, "made the knife that freed you. I thought you might be interested to know."
"Bet he'd be interested too," Shef'hred said, grimacing as he struggled to shift his position. "Please excuse me for a moment, Headw... Li'bet -this may take a little bit." He ended up tipping himself over onto his side, then ever so slowly extending first one leg, then the other, groaning loudly as he did.
Li'bet winced to see his face contort in undisguised agony as he straightened his long confined limbs. "I am so sorry," she murmured, shaking her head in dismay. "We should never have kept you like this so long."
"S'okay," Shef'hred muttered, having now rolled onto his front so that his face was pressed into the grass. "Your guys loosened things up a couple times a day so I could take care of, you know, personal stuff... It's not so bad."
The small, pained noises Shef'hred continued to make suggested otherwise, and reminded Li'bet of the knots she used to tie herself into when she'd lose herself in a project on her small tapestry loom and spend all day long on her knees. Ca'dell would come home to find her barely able to stand, and then he'd lay her out on their bed and work the knots out with his strong hands. Her hands, Li'bet reflected now, were not so large, nor likely so strong, but perhaps they were strong enough.
Sitakhus, guarding Shef'hred this morning, was already looking at them strangely, though he had been told that Shef'hred would be released from his bonds. The noises he was making were just a bit alarming, but a glance in their direction showed the guard that nothing was amiss, even as the sounds Shef'hred made changed abruptly when Li'bet began to knead the backs of his calves, massaging out the abused and neglected muscles there.
"Whu...?" he mumbled, turning his head to the side to try and see what she was doing.
"My man used to do this for me," Li'bet explained, "when I'd spent all day on my knees, weaving. Is it helping any?"
"Oh hell yes," Shef'hred groaned, in a way that suggested other sorts of pleasures, and Sitakhus seemed to think so too, the way he was frowning at the both of them. He could see for himself, Li'bet knew, that nothing inappropriate was happening, but she could also see that he didn't quite approve. Well, rumors would fly, regardless; Li'bet knew better than to fret about that and continued to work over Shef'hred's abused muscles until the tremors decreased to almost nothing.
"Man..." Shef'hred said, ever so slowly pushing himself over to lie on his side, then, moving like an old man, pushing himself upright to rest his back against the pole to which he had been bound. "Thank you for that," he said, artifice stripped away by the pain. "So... I'm guessing what you were talking about earlier... that chance for me to regain my honor, wasn't just hypothetical, was it?"
"No, it wasn't," Li'bet said. "But it's our sort of honor, not yours, and does involve some... manual labor. If you can't do that, well, I wouldn't have your legs bound again, but..."
"So I'm going to have to earn my freedom, is that it?" Shef'hred asked.
"Not exactly," Li'bet said. "If you agree to this, you'll have your freedom, for what it's worth. Doing this work... it would be more about proving your honor."
"And what does that matter to you?" Shef'hred asked, no hostility in his voice, but much confusion. Li'bet shrugged.
"We would not give dishonorable persons the freedom of our village," she explained. "You would be watched, to start with, to be sure you do no harm to anyone or anything, but if you chose to run away, so be it. There is your freedom. Once you prove your honor among us, however, you would have the freedom to go or stay, if you wished."
"And why would I want to stay here?" Shef'hred asked, and Li'bet could see that while he believed his honor lost, Shef'hred still had his pride, and he struggled with it now.
"I have no idea," she said meeting his eyes honestly. "As I said, you would have your freedom, as you have it now... but where else would you go?" That was cruel, Li'bet knew, but for all that Shef'hred's pride was a fine thing, it would hold him back now. Her words had struck a blow to it, though, and it saddened her to see how it hurt him.
"Nowhere," he said, barely audible as he stared down at his hands.
"Shef'hred," she said softly, laying a hand on his shoulder. "If it didn't matter to me, I would tell you to go take your freedom now, and never to let yourself been seen in these parts again, and I've no doubt that there are many in this village who would just as soon you did, but I and others take the long view. In that view, we might have better confidence that you would not remain nearby, laying in wait for a chance at vengance, if we settled things between us."
"Maybe," Shef'hred said, in the tone of a man grudgingly conceding a point.
"For my part," Li'bet took a breath, preparing to go a little ways out on a limb. "I honestly do believe that our village would be the better for having you become part of it, and that, over time, you would truly be accepted, even welcomed."
"Right," Shef'hred's snort of derision had a bitter edge to it, but Li'bet could hardly blame him. "'Over time.' I'll be welcomed into my grave when I die of old age; that's when I'll be welcome here."
"By some," Li'bet admitted with a little smile. "Others will find it easy enough to welcome you once you have done your part in rebuilding the fishing dock, assuming you do it well and with a good will."
Shef'hred glanced over in the direction of the lake and the remains of the dock, assessing and apparently finding the task acceptable. "And what about the ones who don't?" he asked.
"There are over two hundred men, women and children in this village," Li'bet pointed out. "Surely you can't imagine that every one of them gets along with everyone else."
"I guess that makes sense," Shef'hred conceded, perhaps seeing in her chagrined smile the many times she'd been called on to referee in various village feuds. "So... rebuilding the dock, huh? Is this something I'm gonna have to do by myself? Because, I don't figure it will come as any surprise to you, but I've never done work like that before in my life."
"And I don't imagine that it will come as any surprise to you," Li'bet answered, "that no one is terribly keen on having you work unsupervised, for numerous reasons. Hallen has volunteered to oversee the project, and you. He's a good man, and he'll treat you fairly."
Shef'hred nodded, wincing a little as he stretched his legs again. "Will I be starting today?" he asked.
"No," Li'bet said, shaking her head. "We thought it would be better to give you a day to recover, but if you'd like to stretch your legs with a little walk later, I'll have Hallen come by and give you an overview of what you'll be doing."
"And if I'd like to go on a little walk by myself?" Shef'hred asked. Li'bet gave a half frown.
"Until we get to... know you better, there will be someone with you at all times," she said, "and for now, it might be wisest to stay in this area. With time, I hope, people will get used to seeing you around the village, but just now... feelings are still running a little high."
"Yeah, makes sense..." Shef'hred said, sounding a touch bitter as he looked out over the grassland, away from the village. Reconsidering his options, Li'bet imagined. The man didn't have many, and that had to rankle someone accustomed to so much freedom.
"I have the things we took from you, when you were captured," she offered, knowing that there was no comfort she could offer him for his lost former life of freedom and privilege. "I'd be happy to return them to you," she continued. "All except the knife, I'm afraid, for now. I'll keep it for you though. I promise it won't go to anyone else."
"My jewelry, you mean?" Shef'hred asked her, his expression difficult to read, but not particularly happy. "I can't wear it anymore. It was the mark that I'd earned myself a band, and was their leader." He shook his head and Li'bet could see that what she'd meant to be a peace offering was only bringing the man bitterness and grief.
"I'm sorry," she said, hoping that he would hear the sincerity in her voice. "I... I didn't think what it might mean to you. I only meant to return what was yours."
"Why would you know?" Shef'hred replied, his voice bleak. "Your people have no such marks, no such honors. You know as little about my people as I know about yours."
Li'bet knew that Shef'hred hadn't meant the remark to be cutting, but it had been. She'd let herself spin a foolish fairy tale that Shef'hred would happily reject everything from his old life and leave it behind without regrets. That, of course, had been terribly ignorant, and she felt more disappointed in herself than anything.
"Of course," she said, subdued. "I'm afraid I've been stupid, and I am sorry. What would you like me to do with them?"
Shef'hred shrugged -a painful gesture. "I don't know," he said. "Maybe, see if the people who lost... homes, family members, if they want them? Divide it between them, if they do... And give the knife to the toolmaker. Tell him that the knife he made freed me when you do, and then tell him to ask himself whose knife is better. I know I am."
Shef'hred's knife was of bronze, the strange, hard, brown metal that Li'bet had heard of but never seen or touched before. R'dek's eyes went dreamy when he spoke of it, as other men's did when one spoke of gold or other riches, and she wondered what he would make of Shef'hred's gift. The rest of Shef'hred's small treasure trove of ornaments and jewelry included four rings, a pair of bracers, a torque and a wide, flat neck piece, and a handful of hair ornaments, all made of shiny, polished copper. She herself, considered 'wealthy' by the standards of Lakeside, had a single bracelet and hair ornament made of this metal, and no one else in the village had any such.
Without a doubt, more than a few of the families who had lost loved ones in the battle would refuse these offerings from the captive raider leader, but others would accept them happily. Of course, Li'bet had a feeling that no small measure of jealousy and avarice might well be generated by these gifts, and conflict spring between those that accepted them and those who did not. For a moment she considered throwing them all into the lake, but the waist of such an action was unconscionable. They were bound to see more such things in the days to come, and they must all learn to deal with them.
Li'bet, for her part, had to learn to deal with the fact that making Shef'hred welcome in Lakeside, insofar as she was able, was not going to make Shef'hred a happy man. The raider was never going to forget or disregard who he had been for half his life, and it was unfair and unrealistic of Li'bet to imagine that he might. She looked up to regard the man, leaning in feigned relaxation against the pole he'd been tied to for four days, and realized that where she'd intended to bring him hope and encouragement today, all she'd brought him was pain and grief. Suddenly Li'bet found she was doubting herself, as she had not in many summers -not since her first days as headwoman.
"Forgive me," Li'bet said, feeling terribly uneasy. "I'll do as you've requested, with your things, but I need to be on my way for now. I'll... probably be back this evening, and someone will bring you something to eat at midday. It's probably best for now that you let us bring you food here..."
"Sure," said Shef'hred, looking up at her a little worriedly as she stood. "I'll be fine."
"Good, good," Li'bet said, brushing the grass off her hands once she was up. "Then I'll bid you both," she glanced over at Sitakhus, "fair day," and then she was off, already turned away and walking as she heard both men's returned farewells. She would do as Shef'hred requested, though she knew some trouble would surely arise from it. Trouble would arise no matter what she did, she realized, and it would be a test of her leadership skills as no other.
Drawing a long, uneasy breath, Li'bet considered how best she might distribute the raider's troubled legacy throughout her village, and not cause it to be torn apart at the seams.
****
Next week: the Toolmaker gets a new knife