Chapter 5

I stood there, in the middle of the Cro-Magnon camp, for some time, simply trying to come to grips with what had just happened.

I can't honestly say that I hadn't thought about arranging for some female companionship. Beyond simple loneliness, with the passing days and months, I had been feeling increasingly horny. I admit that the possibility of finding a woman to ... I don't know what the correct term would be - date or court ... maybe just fuck ... was a significant motivation towards making nice with the neighbors.

I hadn't really expected it to happen so quickly and easily though.

Could I refuse ... go back on the deal? That was a potentially bad idea. I really didn't want to insult the chief, his tribe or the girl - I had no idea what their reaction might be.

I managed to get a good look at my future mate as she retreated from view into a large tent, amidst a group of excited and jabbering women. For the first time her eyes met mine full-on and she smiled a bit embarrassed maybe, but wholeheartedly at me. Thank God, she didn't seem to be upset with the recent turn of events.

She looked damn cute, all things considered; a brunette with bright eyes and a healthy round face with dimples. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

I realized that I didn't even know her name.

So focused on the memory of her beautiful eyes and smiling face, I wasn't prepared for what happened next.

The only explanation that I can give is that in the past, well before ever coming to Midgard, whenever I had practiced with firearms, it was always about accuracy. It worked too, in my own humble opinion – I was quite the marksman, when I was calm and prepared. I had never even thought about practicing quick drawing my sidearm. That's why, when I saw out of the corner of my eye, an apparently random caveman rush towards me, arms held wide and letting lose a battle cry, I didn't even reflexively reach for my gun.

That doesn't mean that I wasn't prepared, however. I had been in my share of fights as a young man and I knew how to take care of myself reasonably well, especially against an untrained opponent.

I turned toward my oncoming attacker and braced myself for the impact. He tackled me low, his arms wrapping around my waist, but I shifted my weight and pivoted, throwing him toward the ground. A sudden and completely unexpected explosion of pain hit my lower back, breaking my focus and sapping the strength in my legs. With his arms still locked around my midsection, and me dizzy with pain and standing on unstable legs, he managed to pull me down, right on top of him.

His hand kept pounding against my back, causing even more pain. My muscles spasmed and lights danced before my eyes. I thought that I might throw up in his face, and there wasn't a damn thing that I could do about it. Of course, he was in the same situation. He had hit the ground hard and having a guy my size land on top of you can really limit your options, no matter how much you fight, wriggle and squirm.

We stayed there writhing on the ground in a pathetic stalemate for some time. It could have been mere seconds or several minutes for all I knew. But then I heard an audible snap and for a bone-chilling second I feared that something inside me had broke.

Instead, I felt the pain in my back lessen almost completely, allowing me to thankfully regained control of my body and my wits.

It was time to strike back. I went for the quick and simple response – still on top of the man, I grabbed him by the throat and slammed a fist into his face hard, over and over. Two blows were all it took for his grip to loosen and his head to loll back limply.

I admit, the third was purely for payback.

I raised myself up carefully, still feeling some pain in my lower back and with a slight quivering in my legs. On one knee, I looked down over my erstwhile foe and saw that he was unexpectedly young. As in "barely old enough to shave", young.

Why the hell had he attacked me?

I saw the broken shards of what I took to be a stone knife beside him, its wooden handle still gripped in his hand. I gingerly rubbed the sore spot on my back, right over my kidney. The asshole had actually broken his knife while trying to stab me. It was a damn good thing I had remembered to wear my stab-proof vest on this visit. Center was definitely getting some praise for his handiwork next time we spoke.

It still hurt like a son-of-a-bitch though.

People had started to gather around and murmur amongst each other. They were moving slowly, with genuinely surprised expressions on their faces. They also didn't seem to be acting particularly hostile toward me, thankfully. The short fight hadn't been particularly quiet or hidden, and it had been pretty close to the center of camp, so I was sure several people had seen what had transpired, from start to finish.

Although, just because I hadn't been the one to start the fight, didn't really mean everybody wouldn't be pissed off with me for knocking one of their members out cold.

And clearly somebody was ... there, emerging from the crowd just a few yards in front of me, was Mr. Cranky, growling like a rabid animal with a look of pure animalistic fury on his face. He was walking quickly towards me, while winding back his club to take a swing at my head. Given his size and the obviously massive weapon, I knew that if the blow connected, it would most likely kill me. If by some miracle it didn't, I probably would wish that it had.

There was no hesitation this time. I deftly drew my Glock from its holster, took aim at the approaching madman, and fired two rounds in quick succession into his center mass.

And just like that Mr. Cranky was no more.

In the silence following those thundering gunshots, his dead body thudding to the ground seemed much louder than it actually was.

"Shit. I'm going to get skinned." I murmured underneath my breath.

Almost panting, I slowly stood up straight, keeping my gun pointed to the ground, but at the ready, and keeping a weary and watchful eye on the crowd around me. They were visibly scared, surprised and confused with the events that had rapidly transpired, not to mention my "magic boomstick of death". They had understandably taken several long strides away from me, a few seemed to have run away, and it seemed as if all of the children had been herded safely out of sight. A number of women (as well as one or two men) were actually cowering in fear as my gaze passed over them.

Again, they didn't look particularly pissed off, just very nervous, with many speaking in low tones with each other. Several people had brought out their weapons, but they didn't really know what to do. Neither did I for that matter.

Erring on the side of caution, I began moving slowly toward my cart and my other weapons.

It was looking like fighting my way home might be an actual possibility.

Thankfully, I wouldn't have to find out, seeing as a long and powerful whistle silenced all the murmurings and drew everyone's attention off to the side. Modon, the chief strode purposely onto the scene followed closely by a few other men and a couple women, all of them armed. Though a few of them seemed a bit nervous, they all approached steadily and confidently - I could plainly see that Modon was in head-mother-fucker-in-charge mode. Everybody paused and waited to see what he would do or say, and even I stopped moving towards my cart. His commanding presence seemed to ease much of the crowd's tension and fears.

Pretty impressive.

He spared no more than a neutral glance toward the unconscious boy, the dead Mr. Cranky and me. Next, he pointed to a few onlookers and beckoned them over to him and then looked over at his nearby son and nodded in my direction. All this without saying a single word, his expression not betraying his thoughts or his feelings. Modit came toward me flanked by too burly men carrying spears, as his father spoke with the onlookers. He was probably trying to find out what the hell had just happened.

Modit and his two friends were obviously guards, but were they to be my protection detail, my jailers or my executioners?

While the other two men took up positions a few paces behind and at either side of me, Modit sidled up right by my side with a calm and friendly demeanor, belaying the circumstances. I saw that he, like his father, was proudly wearing a new belt with a sheath and knife.

"You are not injured?" He had apparently seen at least the beginning of the conflict. His voice was more confused than worried.

"Yes. He was clumsy." I grumbled sourly. I wanted to keep quiet about my vest, not wanting to give away any more of my advantages.

"Who is he and why did he attack me?" I asked, gesturing to the form of the still unconscious boy. A dark-haired woman had gone to him, and seemed to be caring for his soon to be very bruised face.

"He is Secit, Sodon's son." Modit explained, then sighed sadly before continuing. "Sodon wanted Jena to be his son's mate. But Secit is not a good hunter and a lazy worker. He makes lots of problems in the tribe, arguing and starting fights. My father did not want a good woman like Jena to go to a man like Secit."

It was a bit harder communicating with each other than with his father, so we ended up repeating ourselves a few times to get our points across. Modon clearly had much more experience in communicating with visitors than his son.

"Jena?" I asked.

"Jena..." he repeated, clearly not understanding my confusion. After a few moments I saw him get what I was asking. "Jena is to be your mate. She is my mate's sister." He gave me a congratulatory smile and a clap on the shoulder with one hand, and then looked pointedly ahead.

I followed his gaze and there she was ... Jena. She was panting slightly and quickly looking over the scene in what seemed like near-panic. She eventually caught sight of me and sighed in obvious relief.

Well ... wasn't that a nice surprise. She was worried about me without even knowing me.

She didn't seem about to come closer though. Strange. Maybe tradition demanded that we keep some sort of distance before we become mated, for propriety's sake, for good luck, or just local custom. All in all, it didn't really matter - though there was clearly a lot for me to learn, I had the time.

I gave Jena a half-smile and gave her a little wave. And then, much more relaxed now, she returned it.

OK ... so I now knew my mate's name at least. Plus, it looked like I was now the chief's son's brother-in-law. This certainly explained some things, but it didn't explain everything.

"Why was Sodon so upset by my presence?"

"Sodon was the son of the last chief. He too wanted to be chief, but the tribe choose my father to lead." He was obviously proud of that fact. "He was a good hunter and leader, but was always angry and yelling at the people, telling them what to do. He hoped that one day his son would be chief, with Jena as his mate."

Mr. Cranky and Cranky Jr. must have been pissed off that I had just walked in out of the wilderness and traded for Jena, without even knowing what I was doing. To their minds it must have been one hell of an insult, for all their hopes and plans to fall apart so suddenly and unexpectedly. I guess bad attitudes and impulse control problems ran in the family.

"Are there no other men for Jena in your own camp?"

"Two boys have reached the age of men. It will take many seasons for them to make a suitable bride price for Jena, or any woman." He said the first part almost nonchalantly, but then gave me a serious look and continued. "You are a stranger, from outside the tribe. You own great tools. More than you have shown, I believe." Now he glanced meaningfully to the weapon still clutched in my hand, while clutching the hilt of his sheathed knife. "Taking Jena as your mate will tie you and your gifts to our camp."

Ah, caveman politics ... it seems that this evil had a particularly long history in human societies. Modon was evidently much smarter than I had given him credit for, using me for his own ends. He traded Jena to me in order to gain an ally, maybe even purposely keeping that part of the deal vague, hoping that my difficulty in communicating would cover it up. I wouldn't be surprised if he actually counted on some sort of conflict, allowing him to act freely in dealing with the troublesome Cranky and son.

Though I had the feeling that Modon and Modit liked me, I'd have to watch my back around them in the future.

I saw that the young man seemed to be waking up. While he was being taken care of by the dark-haired woman, his limbs were bound by thick pieces of leather by a couple of other women. As soon as his eyes were open and seemed to be able to take stock of his situation, his care-giver began speaking firmly at him, her face a mask of controlled anger and exasperation. I recognized that look.

"Is that the boy's mother? Sodon's mate?" I asked Modit, gesturing toward her. He nodded in confirmation. "What will become of her? Will she want revenge?"

I was more than a bit worried about that. I hadn't wanted to make a woman a widow, let alone leave a son without a father, no matter how much of an asshole they both were. What if one or the other wanted some payback?

Unfortunately, I'd just have to wait to see what happened and then deal with it.

"Geta ... she will be taken care of by the tribe. In a few seasons she will be free to take a new mate." He spoke confidently and I believed him. "Sodon was a very angry man. Geta will be happy to be rid of him. She is very upset with how he had changed her son." He stopped to think now, considering his next words.

"Sodon had followers, but without him they should not cause you any harm." He said it with a friendly, but definitely uncomfortable smile.

We didn't get a chance to talk any more, seeing as once again a great whistle came from Modon. It appears that it was some way of calling everyone's attention – "hey everybody, look over here" or maybe "shut up and pay attention". The chief took a few steps toward me, his meeting clearly concluded. I guessed that he had found out the gist of what had happened and decided what to do about it. A good part of the camp seemed to be present, forming a loose circle around the area, watching and waiting silently, but anxiously.

Secit, subdued not just by his bonds, but also by his mother's tongue-lashing, was now simply sitting on the ground, his head bowed. His mother Geta was kneeling behind him, with a hand on his shoulder.

I found it a bit strange that no one had yet taken care of Mr. Cranky's corpse. Then again, I had no idea what their funerary traditions might be like.

"John, I am shamed by your treatment as a guest of my camp." He spoke to me, but loudly enough so everyone nearby could also hear. "You came to us in peace and we traded well. But you were attacked by two members of my tribe and forced to protect yourself. Sodon is dead and all his belongings are yours. As is the life of Secit, his son." I know that I looked surprised at that. A quick glance around me showed that no one else really was, so I assumed that it was common practice.

"I beg your forgiveness, on behalf of us all." For the first time he bowed his head to me almost reverently. The action was repeated by many of the observers.

This was a surprising development. It seems that they had some sort of "code of hospitality" here and as a guest of the tribe, I was under there protection. By attacking me, those jackasses had betrayed the tribe's sense of honor. Once again I could see that this pre-historic culture was much richer than anybody had ever believed.

I made a big show of holstering my weapon and I could see the tension on the faces around me ease considerably.

"I give you my forgiveness, friend Modon." I too spoke out loudly so that everyone around could hear while I mimicked their bow.

But what next? I didn't want control over the kid's life. He had clearly been screwed up by his father - without his influence and with some tough love, he just might be able to turn his bad behavior around.

"I gift Sodon's possessions to his mate, Geta." I nodded in the woman's direction, and then spoke directly to her. "I'm sorry for taking your mate's life. I wish to live in peace, but he gave me no choice." She was surprised and slightly confused by my statement. After a moment's consideration, she nodded her head.