Free Calm: Ice Planet Barbarians: A Slice of Life Short Story by Ruby Dixon

1
    MAYLAK
    U nease wakes me from my sleep. I turn over in the furs, unable to get comfortable. The feeling does not go away, and I open my eyes, gazing at the ceiling of my cave.
    Something is wrong. It is not the shivering distress that my khui sends through me when another is dying. It is something softer, something about to happen. This is the prick of unease that comes with a slower, creeping worry, like starvation or sickness.
    My hand goes to my belly and I search deep inside, letting the healing of my khui flow. It touches the little one nestled inside my body, and finds him well. My belly is low and my bones ache, which tells me that soon, my kit will arrive. After many seasons of waiting, I am both relieved and excited to hold my little son in my arms, but he is not what wakes me this morning, then. I look over at Esha’s bed, directly across from ours. My little daughter sucks her thumb in her sleep, her eyes closed. She is peaceful and her color is good. It is not Esha, then. I relax a little.
    At my side, my mate nuzzles my neck. “Maylak?”
    I brush my fingers over Kashrem’s dear face. “I cannot sleep.”
    “Is it the kit? Will it be here soon?” His hand caresses my belly. “Shall I ready a basket for him?”
    “Not yet,” I tell my mate, and caress his horn absently. “It is something else.”
    He props up in his furs, looking down at me with worry in his eyes. “Something else?”
    I nod and begin to get up from our furs. Kashrem jumps to his feet and helps pull me to mine, as I am ungainly with kit, and my body feels like a stranger’s. He holds me for a little longer than necessary, worry in his gentle face.
    I stroke his jaw. “I must check on the tribe, my mate,” I whisper to him.
    Kashrem nods. He, more than anyone else, understands my moods. He knows that I worry over each person in our growing tribe as if they are my own kits. He knows that I will not be able to rest until my khui has sung to each of theirs and determined that they are well. All too vividly, I remember what it was like to watch the khui-sickness race through our people, and my own khui not yet awakened into its healing powers. Then, I was powerless, and we had no healer.
    Now it is different, and I must do what I can.
    My mate helps me into my tunic and kneels to help me into my boots. I cannot bend to the ties, so he does it for me, his hands gentle. He is so good to me, my Kashrem. Always patient, always gentle, and takes care of Esha when I am busy…and with so many new ones in the tribe, it seems I am always busy. It warms my heart to see so many families growing, but it is also exhausting for only one healer.
    As if he can sense my thoughts, Kashrem finishes tying my laces and stands, a stern look on his face. “You will not exhaust yourself?”
    “I will not,” I promise.
    The look he gives me is clearly skeptical. “You are near your time and tired. If you start to feel—”
    “I know, my mate.” I pat his cheek and smile. “Trust the healer to know her own body.”
    “I trust the healer, but I also know my mate,” he says calmly. Esha wakes up and rubs her eyes, and he squats, holding his arms out for her. “I will watch the little one today. She is going to help her father prepare some skins, aren’t you, my little one?”
    My sweet daughter just giggles and flings herself into Kashrem’s arms. She rests her cheek on his shoulder and then smiles at me. “Can I keess you, mama? The humans do it.”
    Oh, with the lips? I hold my hands out for my daughter, and she flings herself into my arms and presses her tiny mouth to my cheek. She slobbers all over my face, and I remain patiently still, though I see my mate smirking with amusement. “Which human did you learn that from, Esha?” I ask when she is done.
    “Jo-see,” Esha proclaims happily. “She is always keessing on Haeden. Why do you and Father not keess ?”
    “Because we are not human,” I explain to her, ruffling her mane and then