Chapter Four
It was almost morning when he returned to Aka’do’s hut. He had roamed the riverbed, like in a trance, searching his soul for a way out. He had spoken to the river, but the river had not spoken back. He had spoken to the wind, but the gods had remained silent. He had spoken to the skies, but the dark canvas had been as serene as ever. If it was for Ma’ki to die … Ay’len was ready to lose his faith.
He was not expecting his husband to be up on his feet when he entered. He stopped dead in his tracks, sensing the man’s overbearing presence, in spite of the dark. Paw like hands grabbed him and almost smashed his delicate frame against the cold floor.

“Ay’len,” he felt Aka’do hot breath on his face, “if I find out that boy’s taken what’s mine, I’ll break your neck.”
A hand was pushing roughly at his back entrance, fingers inside him, sudden pain making him release an anguished cry. He had no power to defend himself; he could not even deny it. The punishment for adultery was death, and no one would have denied Aka’do’s choice of killing him like this. Only that in his case, he had committed the crime only in his heart.
The fingers continued to probe him, making him writhe in pain. Then, suddenly, they stopped, as the man started to sniff him. “Good, Ay’len, I cannot smell him on you … but I saw you looking at him. You want him,” Aka’do chuckled. “But I also see you’ve been faithful. Still after your herbs?”
“Yes,” the healer spoke underneath his breath. “You were asleep …”
“So innocent, this wife of mine,” the man commented, and suddenly he pushed inside Ay’len, making him cry out in pain. “You’ll have me like this,” he punctuated his words with each unforgiving thrust. “I told you that I wouldn't sleep alone. You disobeyed. This is your punishment …” he increased his rhythm, “… and my pleasure.”
Ay’len was trembling uncontrollably when the man was finished. This time he did not push him away, like before, and Aka’do did not move either. This was his life, from now on, dark and filled with suffering. For a fleeting second, he saw himself driving a knife through the man’s heart, but he closed his fists, digging his nails into his palms. He was a healer; he could not take a life, even if it meant throwing his own away.

Aka’do forced his face up, and slowly licked his tears, filling Ay’len heart with dread and disgust. “Even your tears taste better than water from a mountain spring,” he commented, then withdrew from his wife’s warm body. “I’m going to kill that boy, even if it is just because he dared to dream of you. He is going to die not knowing the taste of your sweet lips. What a fool,” he laughed cruelly.
He was stopped by long arms circling his neck. Ay’len’s shiny eyes swam in new, fresh tears. “Please spare him, Aka’do,” he begged. “You have me; he doesn’t have to die.”
The man pushed him back. “So you do want him … don’t you?”
Ay’len barely whispered. “Yes.”

He could not say when the man had moved so fast. The hand in his hair was pulling at the long strands, making him bend and twist. The other was squeezing his neck steadily, cutting his air supply. “Do you want me to kill you first?”
Ay’len did not fight. Aka’do was right. He was not going to live if Ma’ki was to die. But the mad dog was more cunning than he thought.
“I won’t ruin my precious wife for this. I won’t give you the gift of death, although you wish for it. I’ll have you look at his boy's face as the worms devour him, once I’m done with him, but I won’t let you go. You’re mine, Ay’len. For as long as I live.”
He let the healer go, and Ay’len started coughing, trying hard to get enough air into his lungs.
“Now kiss me. The boy is waiting for his death, and my knife is thirsty for blood.”
The healer was forced into the kiss, while he tried in vain to escape the man’s embrace.
He was lucky enough to have water in one of the jugs inside the hut to wash the traces of his husband’s attack on his hard tried body. Aka’do had eventually let him clean himself, although he had watched the entire time, making Ay’len’s skin crawl with apprehension.
The healer could barely stand up. He was going to watch the love of his life die. Aka’do joked about how weak he was to tremble like this after just being mounted for so little time. Eventually, he had to dress up and let himself pushed outside as the first rays of the sun were caressing the trees. He looked up and saw an eagle flying low. Pala’ka, have mercy! He cried on the inside, then gathered his veil around him.
Ma’ki was waiting, as was most of the village, all wanting to see the confrontation. Ay’len could feel the accusatory looks of most of them. He felt the looks of pity, too, but these were far fewer. He was going to be the one who had killed the chieftain’s first born in their eyes. He cast his eyes down, trying hard to pray, but his mind continued to wander, torturing him with images of Ma’ki’s body, covered in blood, his beautiful eyes closed forever.
As Aka’do stepped inside the circle to face Ma’ki, a pair of familiar hands held him close. He turned to face his mother who was trying hard not to cry. His sisters were there, too, and even if they were not saying anything, their simple presence brought a bit of solace to his soul.
He knelt but raised his eyes to watch. He had been scared long enough. It was time to face his fears. He still had his faith. If gods were just … he had to believe.
Aka’do taunted Ma’ki. “Ready to die, boy?”
Ma’ki said nothing. He was waiting for his father to allow them to begin. He did not look at Ay’len. He knew the healer was there, but this was not a moment for his heart to be weak. For Ay’len, to save him, he had to be strong.
Aka’do made the first attempt, faking a lunge, then switching his foot to fool Ma’ki into leaving one side unguarded. But the younger man was not taking his eyes off Aka’do’s face. He was gauging the man’s reactions, by observing a twitch of a lip, a glint in his eyes, using his other senses to dodge his enemy’s sudden movements.
They were circling each other, Aka’do showing his feral teeth, while Ma’ki maintained the same stony demeanor. Out of nowhere, an eagle cry was heard, and Aka’do lost focus for a split of a second, giving Ma’ki the first chance to intervene. The knife sliced the air, opening a gash in the older man’s right arm. Aka’do cried out in surprise, and lunged himself, attacking with all his force.
Ma’ki felt like time was going slower and slower. He saw the man rushing at him, most probably trying to strike him down, using his superior height and weight, but he just stepped to one side and dodged. He felt his blood starting to boil, seeing his enemy turning again to face him.
The moment was lost for Aka’do, as Ma’ki used his superior speed to knock the man’s feet from underneath him. He jumped on the man’s torso and drove the knife through his heart, warm blood hitting him in the chest. He saw the look of surprise on Aka’do’s face. The man had not thought for a second that he could lose. With precise movements, Ma’ki pulled out his knife then stabbed the man’s heart again. Aka’do’s head snapped back, and his eyes remained open, the same expression of surprise etched on them.
He could hear people cheering and yelling like he was under water. He rose and searched with his eyes. Ay’len was staring at him, his eyes wide, his mouth agape, in complete shock. Ma’ki pushed back the people gathering around him with uncoordinated moves. He grabbed the healer’s right arm and forced him to his feet.
He dragged Ay’len after him, his heart pounding in his ears. In front of his father, he spoke.
“Say the words.”
“Son,” Ta’yee seemed overjoyed and sad at the same time. “Free Ay’len, let peace return to our tribe.”
“No!” Ma’ki yelled. “Say the words!”
Silence fell. Every man, woman, and children were watching the scene with eager eyes.
“Say Ay’len is mine!” Ma’ki continued, in his blood driven frenzy.
Ta’yee looked at the rest of the tribe. Denying Ma’ki at this point could not be done. He had to respect the promise he had made, even if it broke his heart.
“Ay’len belongs to Ma’ki as his wife,” he spoke. “He is under his protection now. Let no man come between them. It is done.”
“It is done,” the audience murmured in response.
Ma’ki said nothing. He turned, pulling Ay’len by the hand after him, and a path opened before him. Long after that day, people would say that Pala’ka finally took mercy and gave Ay’len to Ma’ki.
Ay’len was barely keeping up with the hunter. He could not wrap his head around what had just happened. The only man he had ever truly hated was dead, his corpse left to others to handle; the only man he had ever loved was walking fast, forcing him almost to run.
“Ma’ki,” he called, but the man said nothing and did not even turn.
The hut was as good as new, built for Ma’ki by his parents and with others’ help. Ma’ki had refused to move in for years since he had no wife. Now, Ay’len was passing its threshold as Ma’ki’s wife, and it seemed like a dream.
His hand was free for a moment, as Ma’ki took away his tunic, stained with blood. Ay’len stared at him, waiting. The hunter continued to undress with rapid movements, and Ay’len cast his eyes down. He was going to be used again. He let his veil slide from his hair and was about to grab the hem of his dress when his hands were gently caught by strong fingers.
“Let me,” he heard the man whisper, and when their eyes met, Ay’len’s breath stopped.
Ma’ki’s eyes were shining bright, a bit feverish. As he closed the distance, Ay’len leaned forward, and he was kissed. Not like the first time. Now, the kiss was more demanding, and Ay’len obeyed, letting Ma’ki embrace him slowly and carefully place him on the pelts laid on the floor.
He felt his dress being pushed upwards and he tensed. Ma’ki had the right to. Since he had let Aka’do soil him, there was no turning back for him. No matter what the hunter was saying, he was a whore to be used.
As the dress was pushed over his head, Ay’len let his hands hesitantly on Ma’ki strong shoulders. He had tried to avoid touching Aka’do as much as possible; with his new husband, he found himself caressing and squeezing the man’s shoulders.
Another kiss was devouring his lips, slowly, maddening and Ay’len gasped. He sensed something stirring in his loins, something foreign and almost never experienced. Ma’ki abandoned his lips, to continue kissing his long, delicate neck.
The hunter suddenly stopped. “What’s this?” he touched the red marks, and Ay’len trembled. Ma’ki covered him with his strong body, his muscular thighs pushing gently against Ay’len’s, having him open up.
“He … tried to …”
“Hush, love. He’s dead now. He cannot hurt you.”
But you can, Ay’len thought and realized that he was ready to welcome the pain Ma’ki was going to give him.
The hunter continued his explorations with tongue, lips, and fingers on the lean, flawless body opening underneath him. He licked a long trail on Ay’len’s chest, traveling down on the supple abdomen, stopping to make love to the small belly button.
The healer could not say what drove him to buck his hips up. He felt like an animal in heat. How did he think this could be enjoyable? Ma’ki was going to hurt him.
When the hunter’s hot moist lips hovered over his sex, his trembling intensified. “Please, don’t,” he begged, not knowing what he was saying, or what exactly was happening, but keeping Ma’ki’s head there with his hands, nonetheless.
It was good that the man was ignoring his pleas. The length of his organ was being cherished and nipped at playfully. When he felt the hunter’s mouth on his sac, he arched his back, raising his body from the floor. Ma’ki understood and, grabbing the delicate organ in his hand, he pumped slowly a few times.
Ay’len saw stars behind his eyelids. His body was convulsing in pleasure, a sensation that was too much to bear, as fluid was released from his unused sex. When the feeling receded, he felt like his entire body was floating on air.
He lazily opened his eye to meet Maki’s, as the hunter was hovering over him. He wanted to say something, but no words came out.
“Was it … good?” he asked, and Ay’len nodded. Ma’ki embraced him and kissed him again. “I need you, Ay’len.”
As the only response, the healer spread his legs and helped the hunter between them. Ma’ki spoke between kisses. “Ay’len, I want you so badly. Teach me. Don’t let me hurt you.”
He had nothing at hand to make things better. So he forgot all about shame and licked his fingers than pushed Ma’ki aside a little, so he could reach his entrance and make it wet. The hunter was staring at him without blinking, as he repeated the same action a few times. He felt the blood rushing to his cheeks.
“You must think I’m a whore,” he whispered, but he was taken aback when Ma’ki descended on his body and pushed his ass up to kiss the puckered hole Ay’len was trying so hard to make slick.
“You’re my wife. I want to feel pleasure with you, but I want you to like it, too,” he said with tenderness. He gave a tentative lick to Ay’len’s entrance, and the healer felt like a wave of electricity was surging through him. “Is it good? Am I doing it right?” He continued, as Ay’len was writhing in pleasure underneath him.
He pushed his tongue through the ring of muscles, and this time Ay’len felt his eyes rolling in his head. He had no idea what was happening to his body, why, again, the white liquid was forced through his sex, and why he felt so marvelously spent.
“Can I?” came the pleading, and Ay’len urged the man in. When Ma’ki pushed, clumsily, Ay’len willed himself not to withdraw. He told himself that even if it was going to hurt, Ma’ki was worth the pain and the shame and everything.
He heard him spit and saw how he was carefully trying to make his reddened, engorged sex slick, too. He felt compelled to help, so he rose a little and captured the man’s organ in his delicate fingers. A sudden need grew in him, and he bent his head to take it in his mouth and wet it.
Ma’ki pushed him briskly on his back, and it took only a second for the man to slide inside him. Despite the discomfort, he still felt, Ay’len could say that it was completely different from what had happened with Aka’do. The hunter pushed himself inside, grunting and moaning, and he was soon over, Ay’len feeling his seed pouring into him. Unlike what he had felt before, this was making him whole.
“I love you, Ay’len. I’ve never been with anyone. I’ve always wanted you.”
Ma’ki was resting his head on Ay’len’s supple belly. Warm fingers were carding through his coarse mane, making him sigh in contentment.
“Are you still scared?” he asked, placing a small kiss above the healer’s hairless sex.
“No, Ma’ki. I’ve never felt like this.”
“Me neither. They wanted me to get a wife, but I couldn’t. You were always on my mind, in my dreams. Pala’ka wants me to have you, and he’s given you to me.”
“Hush, love. Let’s not anger the gods. We’re doing the forbidden …”
“No,” Ma’ki squeezed Ay’len’s lean form. “I love you, the eagle god knows it.”
The healer remained silent. How could he explain to Ma’ki?
“Forget your fears, forget what Ma’iala told you. If I hadn’t believed what they’d said, that mad dog would’ve never soiled you. I will make you forget about him, that he had ever touched you; I will protect and love you like no one’s ever done.”
“But the tribe will believe I destroyed your happiness, your bloodline.”
“Let them think what they want. They don’t deserve you. If anyone dares to touch you, if anyone dares to talk down to you, you just tell me. Understood?”
Ay’len knew Ma’ki’s gentle hands were capable of taking life; he had seen it with his own eyes, and the thought made him tremble. His reaction made Ma’ki raise and take a warm fur to cover them.
“When you’re cold, I’ll make you warm, when you’re scared, I’ll chase away your fears. Don’t forget, Ay’len. I am yours, and you are mine, and no one could ever come between us. You must be protected. With Ma’iala and your father gone, I am the one who must do that. I should have seen it.”
Ay’len let the warm embrace soothe him and kissed Ma’ki’s lips softly.
“Is it true? You’ve always wanted me?” he needed reassurance.
“Yes, Ay’len. When you gave me your flower, I was so happy to know you wanted me, too.”
“But …” the healer cringed at the memory.
“I know. I was a fool, letting others tell me what to do and what I want. I wanted nothing more than take you in my arms. That night, I asked Pala’ka to give you to me for the first time. He listened. And now you’re mine.”
Learning each other’s bodies left them little time to sleep or eat. Ma’ki was marveled to discover each nook and cranny on Ay’len’s body, and the healer could hardly think straight anymore, as he was explored thoroughly by his husband’s hands and lips.
“I’ve never thought this could be good,” he whispered as Ma’ki was pushing inside him gently while locking eyes with his. “I thought it was all pain and suffering.”
He met each slow thrust with a buck of his hips. The first few times, Ma’ki had found quick release each time he had buried his manhood inside the healer’s compliant body, but now, he was experimenting, prolonging the myriad of new sensations exploding in both their young bodies.
He changed his angle, and Ay’len’s cry of pleasure let him know he was on the path to discover how to make his beautiful healer writhe in delight in his arms in yet another way.
“Like this, Ay’len?” he grinned, mad with love and happiness and did it again, making his lover moan loudly.
“No more, Ma’ki,” Ay’len implored, but he was squeezing the man’s strong arms with his hands, and pulling his body in using his long legs entwined with the hunter’s, to urge him to continue.
“My love,” Ma’ki pushed faster and faster, making Ay’len’s cries intensify until he could not do it anymore, and he felt the muscles in the healer’s body clamping over his organ like they wanted to break it or pull it out from its roots.
They both cried out their release at the same time. Spent, Ma'ki slumped on his lover’s delicate body, listening to the rhythm of his heart. There could be no other, more beautiful music to his ears.
He rose with difficulty and watched Ay’len’s beautiful eyes. He frowned seeing the trails of tears on the smooth cheeks.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No, I’m crying because it’s so good that I feel my heart wanting to go out of my chest.”
Ma’ki wiped the other’s tears with his fingers. “I should let you rest. You’re not to suffer for as long as you’re with me.”
“No, stay with me. I can take anything from you. I don’t care anymore what Ma’iala said. If we’re hurting each other, … then it’s a hurt I love,” Ay’len spoke shyly, casting his eyes down.
Ma’ki caressed the healer’s face, gently making him raise his eyes. “She could see a lot of things, Ay’len, but she could not see this. How happy you make me.”
“And how happy you make me, too.”
For both, the moment felt magical. Complete. And, for a first time in his life, Ay’len forgot about his duty, forgot about the tribe, and let Ma’ki embrace him and share his happiness.
“I will have to leave on a hunt soon,” Ma’ki let him know one day. “If anything happens while I’m gone, you tell me.”
Ay’len nodded. “Come back to me.”
“I always do,” Ma’ki smiled. “Even when you were not mine, I always came back to you.”
The hunter caressed his lover’s body. “You know we need to love each other more until the hunt begins.”
Ay’len laughed. “With you, I never get anything done. Maybe we should be a little time apart.”
The expression of hurt in Ma’ki eyes earned the hunter a long, hot kiss. “Don’t be a child. I love you, Ma’ki. Never doubt that,” he said, as their lips finally parted. “I don’t care if I starve to death, as long as I’m with you.”
So Ma’ki had his way, and before he had to leave, Ay’len saw little of the outside of the hut.
With Ma’ki left on the hunt, Ay’len could finally see to his healer’s duty. He felt ashamed the first time people came to see him, and he was relieved that no one had gotten hurt or fallen ill while he had neglected his obligations to the tribe. No one said anything, and it looked like things were going back to the normal.
His mother and sisters were curious about him. Kaa’sa first checked him with her motherly eyes, then started probing him everywhere, like she was trying to find out if he was hurt.
“Mother, please,” he said laughing. “You’re tickling me.”
Ha’naa and Ja’cy were as curious as their mother, but they waited patiently.
“Is he hurting you, Ay’len? When he left with you that day, he looked so scary, that I thought he was going to swallow you whole. I begged Ta’yee to save you, but he said his son earned his wife and that was it. Whenever I passed by your hut …” she hesitated, and Ay’len blushed. They must have been quite loud and had managed to keep anyone away.
His sisters giggled. “No one’s ever spent seven suns and moons, without even going outside for a moment,” Ha’naa commented, showing her pearly teeth and laughing at him. “My husband and I were done until morning.”
“Shut up, you’re embarrassing him,” Ja’cy nudged her sister in the ribs, but she was grinning wildly, as well. “So, Ay’len, how was it? After that mad dog hurt you …”
Kaa’sa silenced her younger daughter with her eyes. Ha’naa intervened quickly. “He loves you, doesn’t he, Ay’len?”
The healer nodded, and both young women drew a dreamy sigh. “He is still the most good-looking young man in all the tribe.”
“His father is not happy,” his mother spoke again, and Ay’len felt his smile fading. He knew it was going to come to this. “He wants his son to have a woman and children of his own,” Kaa’sa continued. She hesitated for a second, before speaking. “Will you let him take a second wife?”
Ay’len felt a pang of jealousy going right through his chest. His Ma’ki … in a woman’s arms? But soon, his jealousy was replaced by guilt. With his eyes down, he murmured. “I will talk to him.”
The three women fell silent, suddenly serious. “I will stay in our old hut from now on, Ay’len. Come see me when you need me. He lets you see your family, not like …?” Kaa’sa could not bring herself to say that man’s name. His corpse was resting in a hole in the ground, beneath the hill, a bit far from the village burial grounds; his place was well deserved, even in death.
Ay’len felt his heart heavy. He was sewing a new dress from the pelts Ma’ki had given him when he sensed a shadow casting over him. Seeing Ta’yee, he rose and bowed respectfully.
“Ay’len,” the man spoke. “I need to talk to you.”
“I know. My mother told me. You want Ma’ki to take a woman and bring her here,” the healer talked, his voice devoid of any emotion.
“Don’t feel insulted, Ay’len. He must have children. I was wrong to try to stop him from wanting you.”
Ay’len steeled his expression. His feelings never mattered. Why was Ta’yee even trying to apologize?
“You’ll still be his first wife. Please, don’t let my son without an offspring.”
Ay’len nodded. Words were not needed.
“Would you say something?” the chieftain pleaded. He was at least feeling guilty for asking such a thing.
“I do not have anything to say. I’ll talk to him. It’s his decision to make.”
“You can sway him,” Ta’yee touched Ay’len’s shoulder. “You have to.”
The healer dug his nails into his palms as the chieftain walked away. Yes, he had to. Did his heart matter? What if Ma’ki was to finally understand he was throwing his life away, pairing with a man who could not offer him sons and daughters? What if the love of his life was going to cast him away, after tasting a woman’s love?
He continued his work, but large tears started to fell on his cheeks, blinding him.