Kagiso - Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven…Lilies

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Felic woke the next morning, but he didn’t have the will or want to move. He started to run a fever late in the afternoon, and his wounds throbbed. Gael sighed, watching Eleia as she tried to nurse him with what little they had. He sighed. “He needs blood meat,” he whispered to Andrien.

Andrien nodded. “He does. Be careful if you go hunting.”

Gael bobbed his head in agreement. “I will. I won’t go far. I might take Eleia with me. She’s…” He sighed. “She’s not taking it well.”

Andrien nodded. “She’s a sweet thing. She’s young.”

“She thinks it’s her fault he was attacked.”

Andrien scoffed lightly. “We’re lost in a gods-forsaken jungle, he wandered off on his own near a river, and that thing was old and starving. There’s no way we could have known.”

“Or prevented it, honestly. Aside from keeping everyone within arm’s reach.”

Andrien nodded. He looked at the girl and sighed softly. “Take her with you. I’ll see if I can get him to wake and drink some water at least.”

Gael touched his arm. “Thank you. We’ll come back with something. Anything at this point. I agree with her… Fleurette would be devastated.”

Andrien clapped him on the back of his arm. “Go on, then. I’ll take over.”

Gael reached in and touched Eleia on the arm. “Come. Go hunting with me.”

She bit her lip. “Are you sure? I…”

“You’ve been by him all day. Andrien can watch him.”

She sighed. She watched the boy for a moment. She finally gave in and stood. She stepped out of the shelter and joined Gael. She picked up the rough spear that she had made and glanced at him. “He needs blood. Heart is good.”

Gael nodded. “Maybe we’ll catch a stag.”

“We set trap for hare. Hare or bird.”

He nodded. “Let’s get started, then.”

They went into the brush, breaking thin branches and peeling strips of bark with their blade to mark their trail. Gael spotted a couple of dens and set up snares near them. Around them, the jungle thrummed with life. Birds called. A baboon hooted. Insects chittered. A light breeze blew, and it carried the smells of hundreds of flowers on it. The warm season was in full swing in the jungle.

They were quiet as they walked. Gael didn’t know what to say to her to make her feel better. He plucked tiny branches of flowers and offered them in the silence, managing to get smiles from her. They were fleeting, but they were still smiles. He spotted one tree with large leaves shaped like spear heads. Oblong, orange and red fruit hung from the branches. He stopped and tapped her arm. “Can you eat it?”

Eleia perked up and followed his gaze. She smiled. “Mungwa! Yes, very good to eat! Come!”

She grabbed him by the hand and pulled him after her. They ran to the tree. The lowest branch was just out of reach. She turned to him. “I need to climb on you,” she blurted.

He blinked, and he felt heat rush through his cheeks. He cleared his throat. “Oh. That is… That’s true. Here.” He swallowed and knelt down, tilting his head forward for her. She laid her hands on his shoulder and head, and she clambered onto his shoulders. He felt every fiber of muscle in her thighs press against his neck. His face flushed hot, and he chewed on the tip of his tongue. He laid his hands on her knees to help steady her, and he carefully stood. He groaned softly, taking his time and standing with his feet wide and planted. He made himself focus on just staying balanced, and not on the girl that was on his shoulders. From his shoulders, she could reach up and grab several of the fat, orange and red fruits. She placed them against his hand, and he carefully took the fruit from her and dropped it to the ground. When they had several fruits on the ground, he pat her leg. “That should be plenty for now.” He was also getting a headache from the pressure of her thighs against his neck. He was also aware of her skin. He set her down with a grunt and stood, facing away from her for a second as he tried to regain his composure.

She giggled softly as she clambered down. She muttered in her language and dusted leaves out of his hair. She knelt down and picked up several of the fruits. She chewed on her lip. “How to carry…”

Gael watched her, chewing on his own lip. “I don’t have a bag.”

She waved her hand dismissively. “I will make basket.” She set to work, quickly gathering green twigs and vines. She stripped the vines into strands and braided them, using the makeshift rope to bind the green twigs together. She wove the twigs and vine until a basket formed, just big enough to carry it on her hip or head and hold the fruits. “There. Basket.”

Gael chuckled softly. “Well done.” He admired her in the afternoon light. “Should we catch fish next?”

Eleia caught his gaze and held it. She smiled, thin and sweet. “Yes. We find good flowers for Felic, to make him strong.”

He nodded. “Let’s go then.”

Once again, they departed. They continued to walk, making their way toward the sound of water. She stopped a couple of times and plucked leaves and stems. She peeled bark from one young tree. She showed each of the plants to Gael and told him what they were, and how they could help Felic. One fought infection, another one managed pain, a different one controlled bleeding, and yet another one was good for just about anything. He listened and smiled, nodding in understanding. But he also admired what she was doing. She was genuine with her care, and she was proving herself yet again to be a valuable ally and friend in the jungle.

The basket was almost filled by the time they reached the river. The river was shallow and rocky, with some channels passing between clusters of rocks. There were fish with speckled skin in the water, some as large as his forearm. Most were the size of his hand and wrist. The water was relatively clear, and the far bank was adorned with large, colorful flowers. The petals were wide and resembled stars, with long, sweeping leaves that curled and twisted. He sighed, admiring it for a moment.

“We call them mayaua,” she whispered to him. She was also looking at the flowers.

Gael smiled. “That’s a pretty name. We call them lily. Lilies, if there’s more than one.”

“Lilies… I like it. Pretty name,” she glanced at him. He caught her gaze, and he saw her pinch her lip between her teeth and swallow. He swallowed, jaw tight.

He made himself look away from her. He took the spear and waded into the channel. The water was cold, and it was a welcome distraction. He stood still, letting the fish swim between his calves, around his feet, back and forth, until one of the larger fish got close enough. He thrust the wooden spear into it, impaling it. He lifted it out of the water, showing her. She clapped for him. He caught another, and another, until there were three large fish and a couple of smaller ones in their basket. He used his knife to slice the belly of the fish, cleaning out the innards. He buried the waste in the dirt, away from the water, and washed his hands clean in the river.

“If the traps caught anything, then we should be fine for a couple of days. It will give Felic time to regain his strength,” Gael mused. His voice was almost a whisper.

“You hunt well,” she whispered back. “Take enough to live. It is good. Honor.”

“The commander taught me that, in honor of my mother.”

“She would be… proud. Happy.”

Gael huffed softly. “I don’t know… Until this adventure, I was just a sellsword.”

She shook her head. “You are still a good man. You save Felic. You save dragon eggs… You save me.” She swallowed. “Why… save me?”

Gael paused. He didn’t look at her. He bit the tip of his tongue and focused on cleaning the spear and blade. “Because it was the right thing to do.”

“I was stranger then. We are not friends then. Why save me?”

He lifted his gaze to hers and held it. “Because letting him kill you was wrong. Watching them… wound you was wrong. You did nothing wrong. I saw that, and I… I had to stop it.”

She watched him. “I was… scared. Of you. Of him. But you did good for me. You did more than save me. You heal me.” She looked down. “You do good to me… Like Mazat.”

Gael sighed softly. He lowered his gaze. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save him. I know you miss him.”

Eleia shook her head. “He was not mine. I wish he was mine, but he make no words on me. For me.” He set the spear aside and sat down beside her. He watched her, just listening to her. She continued, “He love me one time. I was scared. It was day we first see you and caravan. I was scared of fight and death. He love me… to make me happy, to make me not scared.”

Gael looked at her again. “It’s still love, even when it isn’t spoken. Do not forsake what you had with him, just because he didn’t lay claim to you out loud. I saw him protect you. He was the tall one?” Eleia nodded. He nodded slowly, “Then the love you had was real. You can still call him yours…” he touched his chest with his fingers, “in your heart.”

Eleia sighed. Her eyes were misty. Her lips curled slightly in a small smile. She said something in her language, merely a whisper. Gael cocked his head a little. She looked at him and took a breath, then let it out slowly. She swallowed and inched closer to him. “He is in memory. In dreams. He is in heart no more.”

Gael sobered. He watched her. “Oh?”

“No.” She held his gaze, watching him. She leaned a little closer, and her eyelids began to flutter closed. He leaned closer to her, meeting her halfway. Me? Their noses brushed lightly as they came together. Lips were soft and warm, and she kissed him. The shyness was still there, but she pressed against his mouth a little. He exhaled and touched her face, cupping her cheek in his palm with his fingers splayed across her jaw and beneath her ear. He felt her lips tremble and give, parting slightly, and he gave in. Two breaths became one. The lilies and reeds kept their secret.

It was getting dark by the time Gael and Eleia returned to the camp. Andrien watched them, quiet, while Hamon berated them for disappearing for those couple of hours. Gael and Eleia shared a look and a smile before setting their basket of foods and herbs on the floor of the shelter. One of their traps had worked, giving them a large, beaver-like creature. The dark-skinned hunter had already done the work of a clean kill, making it so they could use as much of the meat and blood as they could for the boy. She sat near him, peeling the skin off some roots and bulbs she had found while he skinned and harvested the meat. The glow of the fire showed a subtle rosette on Eleia’s neck, just under her ear. Andrien smirked but said nothing.

They used cuts of bamboo to cook slices of red meat, roots, and bulbs in a broth of blood and water. While the stew simmered, they set the fish to smoke over the fire. Eleia steeped some of the leaves and stems she had collected into a tea for Felic, and she used the rest to make a salve for his wounds. She returned to her spot next to the boy. She sliced and munched on one of the fruits while she waited for him to wake. The stew smelled good, and it helped rouse him. She nursed him with the tea and stew that evening, and by morning his fever was broken. His appetite returned, and by the end of that second day he was finally trying to sit up.

Gael smiled, touching the boy’s head. “You are a fighter,” he told him. “Gods be praised.”

Felic managed a smile. “Thank you… You taught me well.”

Gael chuckled softly. He shook his head. “This had nothing to do with me. You fought a tiger and won. You lived. That was all your strength and Eleia’s care.”

Felic ducked his chin a little. He looked at Eleia. “Thank you for saving me. I’m sorry I scared you.”

Eleia smiled. She just hugged him, holding him for a moment. She rubbed his back and finally replied, “You make it back to Fleur. That is good.”

Felic blushed a little. He breathed out a laugh and nodded. “I will. I want to.”