Chapter 7: Drowning in one's own weaknesses

The Hunters wove through the settlement, reminding everyone about the upcoming expedition to the lake. Though small parties traveled there frequently, catching what they could for personal use, the Wolf Clan's annual fish "hunt" consistently drew nearly all of the Camp's residents.

Even with the great amount of work it demanded — catching, cleaning, preparing and then hauling home the bounty — a celebratory quality surrounded the informal outdoor gathering. Entire families participated; the Clan's Storytellers and Musicians came along as well, sometimes combining their talents into a single narrative, filling the imaginations and dreams of the audience as they assembled under the endless blanket of stars.

Assuming they embarked shortly after the first meal, the group would arrive at the lake well before midmorning. It was not a long distance away at all, which was part of the reason why people of all ages joined in, but the journey was lengthy enough to warrant staying overnight until they completed their task. Barring any unseen difficulties, most typically returned on the fourth day.

Other than what they enjoyed there, they dried everything before carrying it home; despite the contribution of many, harvesting enough to help support the Camp through the upcoming winter remained an enormous undertaking. Only drying the fish made it possible to bring back what they needed.

Veba overhead Sala and Jakal discussing the event with their friends, confirming that they would be attending. When she reported this information to the Spiritwalker, to her relief he insisted she do the same. Even though she had taken part in years past without exception, for some reason she had worried he might forbid her from going this time around.

She felt strangely ambivalent. On the one hand she looked forward to a respite from his ferocious hunger and was not disappointed that he would not be accompanying them. Since their first night together he never allowed her body to fully recover; more to the point, he did not allow her to recover at all.

On the other hand she was going to miss him, or at least whatever it was he wrenched out of her whenever he took possession of her body. The vigorousness of their encounters coupled with the covert nature of their association formed a potent, intoxicating combination.

If she had her choice, however, Veba still would pick the Tracker over the Spiritwalker in an instant. She hoped the excursion would provide the means to work toward repairing the rift between Jakal and herself without the spiritual leader's knowledge; if she could just engage the Light-Eye on friendly terms once more, there was always the chance that someday...

While he did not leave the Ceremonial Hut often, the shaman seemed hyperaware of her activities; attaining her own goals would be more feasible with four days free from his watchful eyes. Veba knew she was taking an incredible risk trying to accomplish his aims along with hers, but if there was ever a perfect opportunity to attempt it, it would be now.

Although the gathering at the lake presented the ideal circumstances for observing the couple in a more relaxed setting, in the end the Spiritwalker decided to leave the task in the hands of his new spy. She had learned quickly; naturally it required breaking her — one of his favorite aspects of this process — but she also bent to his will readily, enthusiastically even at times. She almost made it too easy.

Of course she still hesitated or held back occasionally, necessitating the use of swift, punitive correction, but by and large the woman was a fervid pupil. She ignited in him a lust so powerful that he found himself neither willing nor able to restrain himself enough to grant her body rest. She had become so sore, bruised and raw from the intensity of his passions he eventually had no choice but to treat her many wounds to keep them from festering. A brief separation would allow the injuries to heal a bit, keeping her fresh and eager to do his bidding.

Besides, every year the Spiritwalker took advantage of the absence of virtually the entire Clan to investigate their dwellings, to see what kinds of secrets he could uncover. The fish hunt was such a popular event that those who stayed behind typically did so only because they were too sick or frail to travel, and the shaman was more than happy to remain in order to attend to their needs.

Controlling them was almost effortless since he regularly administered substances which made them more malleable; the information they supplied him often proved quite useful. If for any reason they gave him too much difficulty he merely put them to sleep, and although no one so far had forced his hand, he always knew that he could make them sleep permanently if necessary. The freedom the annual gathering afforded him back at the Camp invigorated him, becoming a kind of celebration in itself.

But most of all he believed that in his absence, the Light-Eye and his mate would let down their guard, and in so doing they would reveal their weaknesses. Before everyone left for the lake, he would ensure the female understood very clearly what he expected of her when she returned, and what the consequences would be should she fail him.

After the morning meal, Jakal crossed the Camp on his way to speak with Belak when he was overtaken by Ditil.

"Light-Eye!" the Lead Carver greeted enthusiastically. "It is good to see you on this day!"

"And it is good to see you, Ditil."

"So, how do you like your carving?" the short, somewhat stout man asked proudly. Without waiting for an answer, he went on. "I have been practicing with a new tool to achieve finer details. It is amazing the thinness of the lines it can etch. Of course, it does require a steady hand when working in such detail. One slip and you might even have to start all over. I know because it happened more than once as I worked on perfecting the technique.

"Did you know your talisman is the first charm I have made for another using the new tool? It is a great honor to have created for you something so important, though I must tell you it certainly increased the pressure to get it just right. I have not suffered from such anxiety to perform since I was a young man, the first time I shared pleasures with a newly emergent woman. Irta, her name was. Beautiful, beautiful girl. Mated that Storyteller, what was his name? Well, whatever his name is, they live with Fox Clan now. Say, were you not at their Camp recently? Had I known you were going there I would have sent along a message for her from me.

"Anyway, I believe your new carving may be even better than the original, if I do say so myself. Naturally I mean no disrespect to the original artist, but I worked side-by-side for many years with old Mesil and if he were here, bless his spirit, I am certain he would tell you himself I have a real gift for the craft. Naturally, if it does not meet with your approval in any way, please do not hesitate to point out the flaws and I will be happy to correct them to the best of my ability.

"I must admit, and I hope you will forgive me for saying so, but I cannot imagine how you could have ever considered trading your tracking talisman, and yet if you had not, I would not have had the opportunity..."

The Tracker groaned inwardly. Ditil was a fine Carver, to be sure, perhaps even the finest among all their people, but he had never met an individual who seemed more able to speak so long without breathing than him. Perhaps Sala and I have neglected to consider another strategy in defeating the Spiritwalker, he thought. If we put him and Ditil in the same hut together the Carver might be able to bore him to death. Then again, as verbose as the shaman's ceremonies could be, he was not certain who would emerge at the end of the day.

"Thank you, Ditil," Jakal broke in at last, "but I am afraid I was not aware you had finished the carving."

The man's face fell. "But Belak told me he would be seeing you today and would deliver it without delay. I had a feeling I should have brought it to you myself, but when he came to pick up that strange ... I am not sure what it was exactly; he said it was for Aurochs Camp ... but when he came for it he insisted on giving you the talisman himself..."

"I am sure it is fine, my friend," the Light-Eyed One interrupted. "It is yet early, and I am certain the Lead Trader has not forgotten his pledge to you. In fact, I was on my way to see him now."

"Do not hesitate to let me know if any part of it does not meet with your approval!" Ditil called out as Jakal swiftly parted.

Glancing back briefly, still walking, he replied, "I am certain it will be quite impressive, just like all of your work. Good day to you!"

As he headed toward Belak's dwelling he soon came upon his friend.

"Jakal, just the man I was seeking," he greeted, slapping the Light-Eye on the shoulder.

"And I, you," the man returned with a grin.

"I have something for you this day."

"Yes, Ditil just informed me. Though I must say, I would have appreciated hearing the news from you first."

Belak chortled. "And deprive my closest friend the opportunity to discuss the Lead Carver's craft? Why would I wish to do that?"

After they laughed for a bit, the Lead Trader produced a leather-wrapped bundle and handed it to Jakal. The package was much larger than he would have expected for a mere charm. Did Ditil's new technique involve making bigger carvings? He did not really have the room to spare in his pack for something unnecessarily large.

When he revealed the contents of the package, the Light-Eyed One was surprised to discover not one but two carvings in his hand. The first was clearly recognizable as a tracking talisman, which along with an image of their Clan's token animal included representations of several herd species their people hunted. He noted the refinement of its details compared to the first he possessed and admired the artisan's skill. However, the second item was a complete mystery to him.

Made of antler, it was straight and shaped like the trunk of a sapling, only rounded on one end. A little longer than the length of his outstretched hand, its girth ... well, its girth quite frankly was just a little thinner than that of a man's stiffened tool. Its surface largely retained the natural bumps and grooves which identified the material from which it was carved; Jakal had never seen such an object before.

Looking at his friend in confusion, he picked up antler and held it out to him. "I am not certain what this is, Belak, but I assume this is yours, perhaps to trade with Aurochs Camp?"

Grinning, the man replied, "Oh, no, I assure you that too belongs to you ... or perhaps more accurately, belongs to Sala."

Sala? He looked down at the shaft-shaped antler questioningly for a moment before the glimmer of an idea formed. A glimmer that made his own shaft swell. His face growing hot, Jakal turned his eyes toward Belak again, hesitant to voice that which had just crossed his mind.

As if he heard his thoughts, the Lead Trader's smile grew even broader. "Yaja tells me your mate informed her of your exclusive arrangement between the furs. My woman suggested that a carving might bring you both pleasure as it has us in those times when the sensation of a third is desired but not necessarily the third himself."

His eyes widened. "You mean you..."

The man nodded, grinning. "I originally obtained ours some time ago from one of Red Deer Clan's Carvers. It was shaped to look almost exactly like a full manhood, and I had never seen anything like it before — well, other than on a male — and just had to trade for it. Originally, I thought Yaja might find it pleasurable while I was away on a mission, for those times she lacked the company of another. As it turned out, using it together proved even more satisfying than when I was away.

"Sala expressed concern about our Lead Carver's difficulty exercising ... discretion, so your carving is not finished in the same manner as ours. But I must tell you," Belak's voice betrayed his growing excitement, "I cannot help but wonder if the texture of this one will heighten your woman's pleasure. You must let us know; perhaps I will have to request one like yours for Yaja and me so we can have one both rough and smooth."

Despite himself, Jakal released a groan, his manhood beginning to strain against his leggings as he pictured his mate begging him to plunge its thickness inside her while he plunged his thickness inside her.

"I believe I saw your mate with mine and the other women just a few moments ago with their gathering baskets. Perhaps you can locate her before they get too far," his friend suggested, smiling lewdly as he noticed the bulge in the man's garment. He had to admit, he derived a certain perverse enjoyment getting his friend so worked up; Belak could relate to the man's anticipation all too well himself.

Barely able to suppress a laugh as he watched Jakal leave, somewhere between a hobble and a run, his own organ twitched as he thought it was time for he and Yaja's carving to make a reappearance on this day.

Kitad sat finishing a set of new spear tips. Thinking about the incident with the Spiritwalker at the end of the strange ritual he performed after Sedon's calling ceremony a few days ago, the Lead Flintknapper felt certain he had prevented the spiritual leader from poisoning the former child of his hearth.

Even knowing he had thwarted an attempt to harm Sala, he continued to worry about the young woman. If he had not been there at that moment, not watching very closely at that moment...

She and the Light-Eyed One need more allies, he said to himself, especially now that the shaman had made the first move. Six people out of nearly two hundred simply were not enough to keep her safe. My mate is a trustworthy woman, for one; they absolutely could count on her support.

Nira was curious as to why her man had been spending so much time with his first mate's daughter in recent days. Not that she minded; she was aware of the bond that remained between them, and considered it perfectly normal after the number of years Sala spent as a child of his hearth.

Still, once she and Kitad joined, the twins were born so quickly thereafter that they had their hands quite full. Then with the arrival of two more over the next couple of years, neither of them had much time for leisurely activities with friends. So for her mate to suddenly accept several invitations to share the evening meal with Sala and the Light-Eye was definitely out of the ordinary.

The change must be the result of the young woman's disappearance, she thought; he had worried a great deal that he might never see her again. In his relief he is probably just trying to make up for lost time.

Though she told herself this, Nira's instincts led her to believe there was more going on. Kitad's behavior seemed a little off lately, secretive even. After he collapsed at the gathering following Sedon's calling ceremony it appeared to her that something significant passed between Sala and himself, like they were communicating ... About what, she did not know.

The Lead Flintknapper decided he would speak to Sala and Jakal about his concerns and suggest that they bring Nira into the fold. While concealing things from his mate did make him uncomfortable, he also was convinced she could contribute to the cause. As the person newly in charge of the Clan's communal food supply, she interacted with everyone. If any individual was in the position to be the eyes and ears of their group, it was she.

Racing down the hill, Jakal caught sight of the group of women just before they disappeared amongst the trees.

"Sala!" he called. "Sala, one moment, my mate!"

The four females stopped and turned around, watching the Light-Eyed One tearing down the path toward them. It must be urgent for him to make such haste.

As he reached their position, Sala came forward, grasping her mate's arms. "Jakal, what is it?"

He heaved for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. "Need to ... speak with you," he panted, pointing in another direction toward the woods.

The young woman noticed a leather bundle in the hand with which he had just pointed. She glanced back at her friends quizzically.

"Go on ahead," the Tracker urged the others, waving his hand. "I will escort her to you when we are through."

Soon Sala and Jakal were alone on the trail.

"Jakal, what is it?" she asked again now that no one else was around.

Now that he had caught her, he smiled lasciviously as his reason for seeking her out reignited his passion. "Come, my love. There is something I wish to show you."

After they had hiked a short distance, well out of sight of the trail, the woman finally said, "My mate, I wish you would tell me what is going on."

Suddenly he turned around and, pressing her back up against a tree, kissed her, his tongue deep in her mouth.

"Mmm!" she exclaimed, completely astonished and yet not at all displeased.

Once two individuals joined in the sacred bond the male could initiate a coupling just as freely as his woman; however, because they were still expected to restrain their advances with other females, most continued to hold back with their mates even though it was not required sheerly out of habit. At this particular moment Sala was especially appreciative of the freedom their exclusive agreement afforded them in this regard.

While he kissed her neck with the same enthusiasm as he had her mouth, she moaned with pleasure. "Jakal, what has gotten into you?" she asked, running her fingers down his spine as he ravaged her.

Without answering, his hand reached under her garment, and he groaned to discover her already wet for him. Lifting the leather above her hips, exposing her to the open air, his fingertips sought out and began manipulating her stiffened nub; soon Sala was pushing against his hand.

"Oh, oh, oh Jakal," she whimpered, her head lolling back, still confused as to what had possessed him to take her like this, so unexpectedly, and yet not wanting it to stop.

All at once his warm hand was replaced by something hard and cool.

"Ahhh!" Sala cried out in surprise as she felt the rough texture of the object sliding against her engorged button. She did not know what it was, only that it excited her; she quickly adapted, screaming his name when she crested.

Just as she was getting ready to ask him what it was with which he had just pleasured her, he slipped the rigid tool inside her.

"By the Spirits, Jakal! What is... uhhh! Ahhh..." She gave up on asking further questions for now and released herself to the new rapture he was imposing upon her.

The texture of this unyielding thickness rippled over her sensitive lips as her body began to remember the familiar feeling building inside her sex, one she first experienced the night of their joining.

Breathing heavily, the Light-Eyed One stared into Sala's eyes. The look on her face betrayed that she was completely at his mercy, and he growled, "Do you like how it rubs that special place inside you?"

Unable to speak, she whimpered as her man skillfully massaged this mysterious spot within her with the smooth tip of this unfamiliar entity. The irregular surface of its length rasped her puffy petals which clung at it desperately as it pumped in and out of her. The tiny bump at the front of her tunnel swelled, rising as if reaching for this object's maddening caress. Sala's breath grew shallow, her body stiffening, muscles tensing as the sensation continued to build, making ready to spring forth.

"Uhhh!" Like no other, Jakal possessed within him the ability to make her feel both totally helpless and incredibly powerful at the same time. Then, like a beaver dam after a heavy thunderstorm, something inside her broke.

"Harder, yes, do it! Jakal, do it!" Sala demanded, her hands gripping his shoulders forcefully, nostrils flaring like a woman overtaken by an errant spirit as she rose to her toes, grinding and driving this nameless, awesome instrument, harder than anything inside her before, further into her fiery depths.

His blue eyes blazing with lust as he held her gaze captive, his thrusts picked up speed, pressing the side of the ridged shaft firmly against that swollen place, increasing the friction as he rubbed it in tight circles on each inward journey, plunging and withdrawing, plunging and withdrawing again and again.

Sala's eyes rolled up as they fluttered close, her body beginning to submit as the first mighty convulsion ripped through her. Both hands dropped loosely to her sides, the tree trunk and one of Jakal's arms alone propping her up. All she could do was grunt as she spasmed over and over; then everything went black.

When the woman came to she discovered to her amazement that she still stood, her body hot and trickling with sweat. She opened her eyes to find her mate looking at her lovingly as he continued, albeit slower and more gently now, sliding the object in and out of her sopping canal.

"I take it the answer to my question is yes?" he speculated, leaning forward to kiss her.

"Yes?" she echoed, completely confused.

"I had asked you if you liked how this," he withdrew the item in question, "rubbed the special place inside your womanhood."

Sala shifted her eyes to the carving, glistening with her copious fluids which covered the hand holding it in front of her.

"Is that... ?"

He nodded slowly, giving her a sly smile.

An aftershock quaked through her body, remembering the ecstasy it had, he had bestowed upon her. She then placed her palm on top of the lump which burned beneath his leggings, caressing him through the soft leather.

"I believe someone is in need of relief," she teased, her voice low as her fingertips tickled the surface.

Slowly gliding her hands from his crotch to the waist of his garment, Sala untied the thong, skimming his skin as she drew the leather unhurriedly down his legs, inducing a groan for the way she tormented him.

As she kneeled, his trembling organ jutted out before her, its tip slippery with his essence. Encircling it with her hand, she gasped at its size and the incredible heat it produced; his manhood was nearly as rigid as the carving, but far thicker and magnificently alive. The woman eagerly guided it between her lips.

"Ahhh. Oh Sala," Jakal moaned as a shudder danced up his spine and out through his limbs.

The warmth of his throbbing member filling her mouth, she took him deeper and deeper with every stroke until her nose made contact with his pubic hair. Her lungs inhaled fully the scent of his personal maleness and she sighed with contentment. The hum of her expiration reverberated against his manhood and he moaned again, his body quaking helplessly.

"Uhhh, you wild, wondrous woman..." he cried out as his large hands descended upon her head, running his fingers through her silky hair.

Withdrawing him from her mouth she flattened her tongue and, lifting his tool, licked him from base to tip before swirling it around and around the nearly-bursting head. Lost in the sensations flowing through him, the man undulated his hips instinctively as she brought him ever closer toward the pinnacle.

Nudging his legs apart so he that stood with a wider stance, Sala crouched beneath him and, gently lifting his sacs, traced a line between them and the clenched muscles of his rear opening with the tip of her tongue. As she worked it back and forth Jakal shook with pleasure, certain he would lose control. With the final pass her tongue remained at the pursed bud and started circling the wrinkled skin as she parted his buttocks to allow her freer access.

Though he had given such gifts to his partners many times before, his mate was the first to explore him in this manner, and at last he understood why his lovers had writhed beneath him, screaming as his tongue probed the entrance to their secret passage. His muscles quivered and he found it increasingly difficult to stand, but he did not wish to ask her to stop.

As if she could understand his dilemma Sala crawled out from under him and, taking his hands, she brought him to his hands and knees before resuming her task. As the orifice grew slick from her saliva, she began experimenting with breaching its border, finding it ever easier to penetrate.

While her tongue prodded the musky hole she felt his body tensing as he moaned wordlessly. Aware he approached the cliff she reached around and wrapped her fist around his hot shaft. Holding it firmly in her grasp she stroked him, the smooth foreskin adding to the lusciousness of her soft hand sliding back and forth as she burrowed into his narrow opening.

Letting go, Jakal unleashed a groan from deep within, his manhood lurching as it shot its stream into the ground beneath him again and again, his ring pulsating around her tongue.

Veba froze, convinced the moan escaping her lips had exposed her as she hid in the bushes nearby, her tunic hiked above her waist as her fingers played desperately with her aching nub. Her womanhood pounded, inflamed from her most recent whipping, but her arousal was simply too strong to resist plunging her fingers deeply inside herself while she massaged her wet button.

After a few tense moments, holding her breath, she relaxed once she recognized they were so intent on their own activities they had not noticed her and went on manipulating her node. She almost could not believe what she was seeing; Sala was not only orally pleasuring the Light-Eyed One's back opening, she was clearly enjoying it herself. The woman observed the other female's exposed folds, swollen and dripping as she probed her lover.

Despite the fact that she herself found receiving such stimulation highly gratifying, Veba had always refused to reciprocate. She could not bring herself to do it and privately feared that the Spiritwalker would learn of her discomfort for that particular act, thereby demanding it of her. The man seemed to derive the greatest satisfaction from imposing upon her the very things about which she felt most reluctant. How he unearthed such secrets she did not know, but he managed to do so over and over; in the end it was probably only a matter of time before he discovered this one as well.

Still, both the woman's and the Light-Eye's reaction to this communion flooded her body with desire, and before she knew it she was twisting her tender lips and squeezing her hardened bud. Ever since the first night with the Spiritwalker Veba found that even when she was alone she craved pain in order to achieve release, and today was no exception.

With some effort she managed to pull one of her heavy breasts out of the top of her tunic. Using her free hand, she pinched her nipple as hard as she could without eliciting a scream and soon she began to buck when she finally reached her peak.

Seeing them staggering to their feet, the woman panicked as she realized she probably should not have observed them from so close. As there was no time to situate herself properly she fled into the woods with one breast dangling outside her garment, pleading with the Great Spirits that the Tracker would not notice she had been there.

The Spirits did not answer her call, for as the two mates hiked toward the trail the man stopped, his nose detecting just the slightest hint of ... something. Crouching down next to a clump of bushes, he noted the trampled grass and the partial imprint of a body.

"What is it?" Sala asked.

"Someone was here, recently, and after we arrived," he told her, looking into her worried face.

"Was it... ?" She was too afraid to finish the question, the thought of the shaman spying upon their lovemaking more than a little disturbing.

"I do not think so. The impression in the grass is too small; also, the footprints are not large, and do not sink deeply into the ground. The Spiritwalker is not an extremely large man, but he is certainly much bigger and heavier than the signs left here." Jakal sniffed again, and then it hit him as he suddenly identified the fading traces of the familiar scent. "It was a woman," he informed her. "And I ... I think she was aroused."

Sala started laughing, highly amused. "I wonder who it was?"

"Well, she headed off this way." He pointed to the fresh path leading off the main trail. "Should we go hunt her down?" His tone was playful.

"No," she giggled. "I am sure she ran because she did not want the embarrassment of being caught." Her mind drifted to her own recent experience of being the watcher; although Belak had not minded, she remembered how horrified she felt at that moment when he first discovered her staring at him and his mate while they joined bodies.

Smiling, Jakal kissed her. Putting his arm around her waist he said, "Come, my beautiful Sala. Let us go find your friends instead."

Full of excitement and the exuberance of youth, children ran shouting back and forth along the path from the head of the line to their caregivers as the Wolf Clan traveled over wide open meadows and gently rolling hills, drawing ever closer to their lakeside destination.