The First Tribe by Candace Smith Read Free Book Online Page A

known about the Vastara. It was becoming apparent that without the shared knowledge of other tribes, they had continued to keep with the older, primitive ways.
    Although she had tried her escape and balked at his orders, Dasheen had expected much more rebellion from his captive. She was certainly frightened, but not as terrified as she had been earlier. He reached for a sweater. Though the temperature was not chilled, it was still much cooler than the balmy climates he was used to. The girl seemed unaffected by the change as the sun sank low. She was still wearing only the short dress made from thin pera fur.
    Sabra removed the other boot, and her gaze stopped on his sweater. Trembling fingers reached out and she stroked it. “What fur is this?” she asked quietly. It was soft and dark, with flat hair.
    “It is woven from different animals. I believe this is kilara, though I’m not sure.”
    “Woven? Like your nets?”
    “Something like that.” Dasheen was amused by her perplexed expression. “The Vastara don’t weave?”
    The series of knots seemed quite complicated. Sabra shook her head and continued to stroke the garment. She had no idea the effect her wide green gaze and gentle brushing was having on the beast rider. “Why don’t you just use furs?”
    “This is easier to move in.”
    “What about your leathers? They seem pliable.”
    “Those are for riding,” Dasheen announced. He stood and began to remove his breeches.
    Sabra gasped and scrambled back, turning to face the side of the tent. Whatever else she imagined, it was not that the Kirabi would completely disrobe in front of her. No man would do such a thing until the marriage ritual was performed with his wife. She heard a rustling sound.
    “Come,” Dasheen ordered.
    Sabra slowly turned her head, and she gave a sigh of relief when she found he had pulled on lighter leather breeches. She crawled back to where he sat on the chest, and sat down. He had picked up the leather straps he had tossed onto the sleeping furs.
    “Lift your hair.”
    Sabra eyed the band in his hands with wary apprehension, but she followed his order. He wrapped it around her neck and reached behind her. His fingers ran up and down the back, and when he finished the band was secured. Sabra reached around and felt the same strange lacing that had been up the front of his boots.
    “The collar is never to be removed.”
    “Yes, Dasheen.” The band had no meaning to her. It was a bit confining, but as the Vastara had no pets she had no idea as to its purpose. Even Palla’s short speech did not to explain the purpose of the bands.
    “Hold out your wrists.”
    Sabra held them out, and he removed the thin straps that had been tied to her wrists when she was captured. She watched in fascination, trying to remember the ins and outs of the lacings. The red emblem from his vest was also on all of the bands. Next, he placed straps on her ankles.
    Sabra was distracted when the flap on the tent opened and the hunchbacked creature with stringy black hair approached them. The woman glared at Sabra again, and she gasped and scrambled back onto the sleeping furs. The creature placed a bowl of food in front of Dasheen and another smaller, empty bowl beside it. She left after giving the beast rider a long look.
    Dasheen placed some food in the small bowl. “Come. Eat.”
    Sabra crawled forward. There was fruit with sweetening herbs… and a bloody slice of flesh mingling with the juices. Sabra’s hand flew to her mouth while her stomach gripped and retched. She could not bear to look at the disgusting meal. A hand threaded through her hair and lifted her head. “Eat,” Dasheen demanded.
    Sabra watched him rip a piece of meat with his teeth and begin to chew. Oh, Mother of Life. Sabra’s eyes filled with tears and she slowly shook her head. Her throat had closed again.
    “Then starve,” Dasheen shrugged. He let go of her hair and shoved her back onto the furs. He dismissed her