medicines.”
“No weapons?” Ursla asked, tilting her head to the
side.
The other women shook their heads, and Taren
smiled. “I wouldn’t be much good with it if you placed a weapon in my hands,”
he said. “I’m an herbalist.” He saw no need to mention any of his other magical
abilities. It was best to keep things simple.
“You perform magic on herbs?” Ursla asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” he replied.
Ursla came closer and inspected him with her eyes.
“He is skinny, small,” she said. “The magic I sense in him is not a threat.
This man may walk among our kind.”
The two women bowed their heads, acknowledging the
Matriarch’s decision. They turned and exited the hut, leaving Taren alone with
Ursla.
“Does that mean I’m welcome here?” he asked.
“We will do you no harm,” she replied. “You may
partake of our food and drink.”
Taren took that as an invitation to make himself
at home. “Since we are trusting each other, I should mention that I have a
companion somewhere in the woods. I’m not sure where he’s gone. I haven’t seen
him since I trapped myself in your net.”
On hearing Taren’s words, Zamna decided it would
be all right to reveal himself. These women were not quick to condemn a person,
and they had easily accepted Taren into their village. He hoped they would do
the same for him. Taking in a deep breath, he rose from his crouched position
and proceeded to the front of the Matriarch’s hut. A red-haired woman spotted
him and shouted to her sisters. A dozen of them quickly surrounded him,
blocking his path of entry into the hut.
Hearing the commotion outside, the Matriarch
gestured for Taren to follow. She stepped outside and smiled at the sight of
Zamna. “Is this your missing companion?” she asked Taren.
“It is,” he said, his voice concerned. “Will they
harm him?”
“No,” she replied with a laugh. “They find him
beautiful.”
Zamna stood perfectly still, not bothering to hide
his discomfort as the women ran their hands along his scales. One of them
twirled a finger around the spikes adorning the sides of his head. They talked
among themselves in hushed tones, smiling and nodding their heads.
The Matriarch stepped forward, and the women
backed away respectfully. “It is long since we have had a lizard man in our
land,” she explained. “Many generations have passed. You are a creature of
legend from our tales.”
Zamna seemed less than flattered. “I’m no legend,”
he stated. “I might be a rarity around here, but there are plenty of my kind to
be found if you know where to look.” Being singled out as some mythical
creature did not appeal to him. Never before had he been fawned over by women.
Usually, those who were not of his race looked at him with either curiosity or
repulsion, not affection. These women were openly flirtatious, and it was
overwhelming. He much preferred to keep his distance from them.
“You are a sly lizard man to sneak into our
village unseen,” Ursla said.
With a sigh, Zamna replied, “I am a La’kertan.” He
objected to the term “lizard man,” as it lowered him to the same level as a
subhuman beast. “My name is Zamna.”
Ursla nodded approvingly. “Zamna and Taren will
stay here and feast with us tonight,” she announced.
The gathered women cheered. Taren was flattered by
their response, taking it as a sign of friendship. He moved next to Zamna and
smiled.
“You should do a better job of watching where
you’re going,” Zamna snapped.
“If I hadn’t stumbled into their net, we’d have
missed all this,” Taren said, indicating the village with his hand. “A tribe of
women living within the forest who think you are some sort of god.” Grinning,
he patted Zamna on his back.
“They never said I was a god,” he replied. “They
only said my kind were mentioned in their tales.”
“I wonder where the men are,” Taren wondered aloud.
“Surely they have males somewhere.”
“Maybe
“No weapons?” Ursla asked, tilting her head to the
side.
The other women shook their heads, and Taren
smiled. “I wouldn’t be much good with it if you placed a weapon in my hands,”
he said. “I’m an herbalist.” He saw no need to mention any of his other magical
abilities. It was best to keep things simple.
“You perform magic on herbs?” Ursla asked.
“In a manner of speaking,” he replied.
Ursla came closer and inspected him with her eyes.
“He is skinny, small,” she said. “The magic I sense in him is not a threat.
This man may walk among our kind.”
The two women bowed their heads, acknowledging the
Matriarch’s decision. They turned and exited the hut, leaving Taren alone with
Ursla.
“Does that mean I’m welcome here?” he asked.
“We will do you no harm,” she replied. “You may
partake of our food and drink.”
Taren took that as an invitation to make himself
at home. “Since we are trusting each other, I should mention that I have a
companion somewhere in the woods. I’m not sure where he’s gone. I haven’t seen
him since I trapped myself in your net.”
On hearing Taren’s words, Zamna decided it would
be all right to reveal himself. These women were not quick to condemn a person,
and they had easily accepted Taren into their village. He hoped they would do
the same for him. Taking in a deep breath, he rose from his crouched position
and proceeded to the front of the Matriarch’s hut. A red-haired woman spotted
him and shouted to her sisters. A dozen of them quickly surrounded him,
blocking his path of entry into the hut.
Hearing the commotion outside, the Matriarch
gestured for Taren to follow. She stepped outside and smiled at the sight of
Zamna. “Is this your missing companion?” she asked Taren.
“It is,” he said, his voice concerned. “Will they
harm him?”
“No,” she replied with a laugh. “They find him
beautiful.”
Zamna stood perfectly still, not bothering to hide
his discomfort as the women ran their hands along his scales. One of them
twirled a finger around the spikes adorning the sides of his head. They talked
among themselves in hushed tones, smiling and nodding their heads.
The Matriarch stepped forward, and the women
backed away respectfully. “It is long since we have had a lizard man in our
land,” she explained. “Many generations have passed. You are a creature of
legend from our tales.”
Zamna seemed less than flattered. “I’m no legend,”
he stated. “I might be a rarity around here, but there are plenty of my kind to
be found if you know where to look.” Being singled out as some mythical
creature did not appeal to him. Never before had he been fawned over by women.
Usually, those who were not of his race looked at him with either curiosity or
repulsion, not affection. These women were openly flirtatious, and it was
overwhelming. He much preferred to keep his distance from them.
“You are a sly lizard man to sneak into our
village unseen,” Ursla said.
With a sigh, Zamna replied, “I am a La’kertan.” He
objected to the term “lizard man,” as it lowered him to the same level as a
subhuman beast. “My name is Zamna.”
Ursla nodded approvingly. “Zamna and Taren will
stay here and feast with us tonight,” she announced.
The gathered women cheered. Taren was flattered by
their response, taking it as a sign of friendship. He moved next to Zamna and
smiled.
“You should do a better job of watching where
you’re going,” Zamna snapped.
“If I hadn’t stumbled into their net, we’d have
missed all this,” Taren said, indicating the village with his hand. “A tribe of
women living within the forest who think you are some sort of god.” Grinning,
he patted Zamna on his back.
“They never said I was a god,” he replied. “They
only said my kind were mentioned in their tales.”
“I wonder where the men are,” Taren wondered aloud.
“Surely they have males somewhere.”
“Maybe
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