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

completely while he finished his dinner. Dasheen reached for the nayello skin hanging from a peg on one of the tent bracers. The cream colored pouch was made from the animal’s stomach and was used to hold liquid. He took a long draw of water, and thought about offering some to his captive. Her eyes were still fixed on her food bowl and she continued to silently cry.
    Sabra struggled to make sense of what she had seen. Rumors of Kirabi eating meat were the things terrifying nightmares were made of. To actually watch the beast rider gnaw and rip at the flesh while a strange passion filled his eyes as he consumed another animal… consumed, oh Mother of Life … Sabra could only fathom that it was another brutal ritual of the vicious people. The slight calmness she felt earlier had disappeared, and she trembled and wanted to crawl beneath the soft furs and hide.
    Dasheen watched the fear and panic fill her eyes again. He had no idea what had caused the reaction until Masan ducked into the tent. Anali was tethered by a strap, attached to a sturdy leather ring in the front of her collar and gripped in the fist of the beast rider. She reared up, wailing and twisting her shoulders in a frantic attempt to break free. Sabra could see that her wrists were secured behind her.
    “Sabra,” she cried out. She cringed when Masan turned and lifted her to her toes by the collar.
    “Silence,” he demanded, and Anali‘s lips sealed shut with such force they turned white. Masan turned to Dasheen and threaded his fingers through his wild black hair. “They do not eat meat.” He nodded towards Anali. “According to her lunatic ravings, they consider it an abomination and sacrilege. She thought I was performing some ritual in preparation to roast her.”
    The two Kirabi looked at each other for a moment. Dasheen glanced at Sabra, and her sudden fear now made sense. He turned back to Masan, and the two beast riders began laughing in deep rolling gasps. “There are many misconceptions our new slaves need to dismiss. I guess if what they wish to consume are fruits and vegetables, it might be wise to allow them to do so. It might be another reason their skin remains soft.” Dasheen shrugged. They were just learning that the burning rays of the sun toughened their hide. He stared at Sabra. “ I will not forego juicy red roasts to appease your delicate appetite.”
    Sabra did not care, so long as she was not required to follow their bloodthirsty ritual. The vision of the Kirabi tearing the flesh of whatever poor creature’s remains lay on his plate had cost her any hopes of calming her stomach. In a quiet voice, she said, “It is your ritual, beast rider, but I will not eat if I must watch you perform this disgusting feat. My stomach rebels and every fiber within me is repulsed by the scene.”
    Dasheen rose so quickly that Sabra bolted back into the skin side of the tent. He gripped her collar and pulled her to a stand, and then he bent so the black anger in his eyes pierced through her frightened green stare. “You don’t dare rebuke me, slave. Perhaps I should leave you tied to Shiru for the night.”
    Sabra let out a cry . Alone in the darkness and tied to the banta? Her mind pictured Dasheen tearing at his meal, and the picture was replaced by the sharp teeth of the banta ripping through her limbs. Her voice trembled. “Still, I cannot force an appetite if I must watch you.” Sabra was terrified, but even now, with his horrifying threat, she could not force the sweetest shifon fruit into her mouth, not without her stomach rebelling and tossing it back out.
    Dasheen gazed into the wild green stare. The girl was obviously terrified, and yet she persisted in her Vastara nonsense. Masan interrupted the strange impasse. “I tried to push veran and lipsa passed Anali’s lips. What she did not spit back soon spilled out of her stomach with what I suppose were the remnants of her lunch. This idiotic belief has apparently manifested