I cry

Watching Master ride off was like feeling the tug of my heart pulled tighter with each lifted claw of the kaiila joining the masses. My chest had been opened seeing Him kiss each on the cheek, of His family and I waited by the kaiila with Brea to hand Him up His Helm and bags once He was in the saddle. Pulling off a glove from His hand once He was settled, fingers touched my cheeks, lips and chin. Giving me that smile that made me want to dig right into that hole between my breast and offer my heart for His saddle bags also. Tears rolled down my cheeks and He captured one at the tip of His finger taking it to His lips before slipping His glove back on, motioning the kaiila forward.

They had been gone almost a hand. No updated report brought back from the drummers. Nothing. Hundreds of Master's gone though it was just a mere dent on the masses of those that all were a fiber of the strong lay out of the story of tribe. Mistress hid Her worry with weaving all of us new blankets. The children complained that Mistress already had them sweating like they sleep in a stone steam wagon, the rest of the girls and I loved it. Kinia's was made of rich greens in a kaissa board pattern. Talu's was more like a Zar board pattern with thick lines of red and white. Brea's was yellow and brown, making me think of sweet honey from bee's. Mine, was a hue of light blue I loved so much, trimmed on the edges with a blue just a slight be darker. We gave praising thanks to Mistress for the gifts which made Her smile, while First Son teased us calling us ass kissers, while Mistress huffed and said simply...naturally so my Son. We all giggled.

It was hard not to just want to damn every Paravaci out there. They were too close to Tuchuk lands and caused this massive attack to push their wagons back to the outer edges. It truly all started over a bosk. A wayward Bull that came over to steal some cows for His own. Whose right was it? The Paravaci to keep the cows the Bull attempted to take, or the Tuchuk to keep the Bull that crossed the lines of camp? Who cares, lets fight and see who the Sky loves more. Couldn't help but make one smile as the riddle would be....does the Sky love more those who lived or died? Life was full of riddles.

We were starting to bring up water when the drummers started to play. I think the whole tribe dropped what they were doing to run to the far edges of hills to seek out love ones return. I know me and Brea leaving our buckets, hand in hand lifted dust to see. The Riders were coming back, their numbers not as grand as they first left, but the high stance of lances on the sides of saddles told of victory. There were many trailed kaiila's with wrapped bodies brought back over the saddle. Every deep breath I took could feel, taste and understand the charge of excitement, worry, fear and pride of everyone around me.

He was alive, He was alive!

We ran to the side of stirrups, oh yes, He was alive...even if barely so. Slumped over the kaiila and blood still moist at His hands two men helped take Him down and carry Him back to the wagon. Mistress and Brea started to strip and clean Him while I got fresh cloths and water for them, and started to boil lightly spiced vulo pieces to make a clear broth. The healers were busy as can be assumed, stopping to check Master, and step out to speak with Mistress. I didn't need to hear what was said, with Brea at the flaps to allow some fresh air in, I could see the tears down Mistess's face as she listened. I made myself not watch anymore and just look to Him. Gentle touches across His scars, and leaning down, I kissed each of His fingers. Even though fever had made Him tired and words hard to understand sometimes as He faded in and out of consciousness, I would keep every smile He made when I whispered my love into His ear. I was brave, I wouldn't let Him see me fall apart...yet.