Page 52 of His to Worship
As we move through the commune, it’s hard not to feel like a zoo experiment. Around us, Lieq people move with purpose. Some are tanning hides. Others are expertly cleaning animal carcasses. Nearby, women sit together sewing silently.
Yet, despite their busy tasks, all activity manages to pause as we pass by.
Kuvier’s village puts into perspective how far back we have fallen technologically as well. The huts, varying in size and shape, are constructed from animal hides stretched over frames of large bones and wooden supports. There are at least two dozen of them and they form a circular arrangement around the heart of the village—a massive fire pit where a whole animal turns slowly on a spit.
As we get closer to the center of the community, it’s also not hard to figure out which is the chief’s tent. Kuvier instructs us all to sit around the fire, facing the largest hut that is adorned with intricate bone carvings.
The atmosphere crackles with a mix of anticipatory apprehension. As we settle onto haphazardly strewn rocks, whispers pick up around us, as more villagers crowd on the outskirts of the circle. None of them venture close, but they all continue doing what they seem to love. Staring.
I sit on a smoothed stone with Kuvier standing protectively behind me. Leaning into his warmth, I try my best to slow my racing heart and catch my speeding thoughts. I’m not sure how long we sit there, several minutes for sure, but no one in our group speaks, until finally, there is a rustle at the entrance of the chief’s hut.
A large figure emerges from the hut in front of us, and from the way the crowd and our boys respond, it’s easy to determine that this is the man of the hour. Atan Junq is not what I expected. While he is dressed in finer furs than what I’ve seen, with carved bones adorning his neck, his actual form is so much…smaller than I thought.
Draped in a thick fur cloak, the atan is almost dwarfed by his own clothing. Even his large ram’s horns outweigh him, making him appear even slighter. With slim shoulders and an aging frame, Junq looks more like he should be somebody’s grandpa than a feared leader.
And yet, everyone cowers in his presence.
Even my brave mate seems to deflate slightly under his scrutiny. In all honesty, it pisses me off. This guy reminds me of a boyfriend my mom had when I was a teen, Richie. God, I hated that man. He was scrawny and older, a wealthy doctor that thought he was god’s gift to Earth. Despite being skinny enough I could take him in a fight, that man scared the hell out of my mom. Abused her for years before he finally went to prison for embezzlement.
If there’s one thing life has taught me, it’s that bullies come in all shapes and sizes. And, if there’s one thing I cannot stand, it's a bully.
“What is this, Kuvier?” Junq begins his eyes narrowing on us women. Xiomara whispers translations to the others, but I’m understanding just fine.
Enikk jumps in first. “Atan Junq, we—”
“I asked Kuvier.” Junq levels Enikk with a stare that quiets him. “Kuvier? Speak, boy.”
“We return to the village in triumph, my atan,” Kuvier responds, clapping his fist over his heart. “We bring females gifted from the Great Mother herself.”
The crowd murmurs, and it’s clear this declaration does not go down lightly. I knew that there would be few other women in the tribe, but Kuvier’s description still didn’t prepare me for the way the testosterone in this tribe far outweighs the estrogen.
“And when did you discover these,” Junq peers at us, taking in every difference, “females?”
This brings Kuvier up short and it is a long pause before he answers, “We encountered many challenges and—”
“When did you find the females, Kuvier?”
“At the start of this storm,” he finally admits. Murmurs move through the crowd.
“So, many blinks passed before you chose to bring this to my attention?” Junq hums his disapproval.
Kuvier just says, “Yes, my atan.”
“Are we sure these creatures are even female?” An older-looking woman speaks from Junq’s left side, her voice grating and condescending. “They look so different from us. They could be a danger.”
I cannot help myself as the words are clipped from my lips, “We are not creatures. We are people.”
Every set of eyes snaps to me, and for a moment, there is silence.
“They speak our tongue?” It’s an older male this time who speaks up, standing at Junq’s right. He addresses Kuvier as if I am merely a decoration for him.
I clench my jaw and murmur in English, “This talking around us shit is getting old fast.”
“I don’t have a good feeling about this chief guy either,” Renata retorts, her words barely audible. No kidding.
“What is this? They have their own tongue?” Junq peers at us with increased interest. “What are these females?”
“They are human women, atan,” Enikk inserts. “They talk, eat, and fellowship like us. They each are working to learn our tongue fully.”