The Tribes of K'haren - Completed

Chapter 22.2

'I'll go explain to Zar'gno why he can't use that tree to rub his back on if you talk to the Frago about our rules for territorial marking within the camp.' Nume's voice was to be heard very clearly so Tarlequin figured she must be standing right outside the tent.

'Again?' Kran replied with a sigh.

'Yes, again, the dwarves keep complaining about the smell...'

'Alright, I'll do it, but you also have to introduce the next newcomers to all our rules!' He insisted.

'Do I still have to talk to Zar'gno then?'

'Yes.'

'Alright.' Nume replied. 'If you figure out where Feyn has gone to. I need to talk to her.'

Then it was silent again. Well, not exactly, the tent didn't block out the everyday sounds from the camp outside. Tarlequin lay still, knowing that he wasn't allowed to do anything anyway. At least they had ended the shifts to look after him after he'd promised not to leave the tent anymore. But now his curiosity and impatience grew with every passing heartbeat. He had had enough time to think, enough time to mourn and certainly enough time to rest so he couldn't wait for Nume to bring him his food later on.

She had put herself in charge over his welfare and told everybody to make sure he stayed in his tent until she announced the end of that rule. So now she visited him once or twice a day but she was often too busy to stay for more than a short chat. And so far, he had not had a chance to talk to her about what he'd suddenly remembered when she'd once brought along the young boy whose mother had died. He didn't want to discuss that in a place where half the camp could be listening.

Over the past few days, the boy had started showing up on his own, he didn't talk much, he mostly just watched over Tarlequin with curious eyes. Once he'd begged the Faun to play for him, but halfway through the first song, Nume had rushed into the tent and taken Tarlequin's flute away from the bard, which he was rather furious about. He'd asked why he wasn't allowed to play and she'd come up with some excuse, it seemed to him she just wanted him to bore himself back to health.

So far, Tarlequin had only got a few things out of the boy, including his name, Mersha, the fact that he'd kept screaming until the women who'd tried to keep him away from Nume and Kran had finally left him alone and that he'd been living in captivity for most of his life. Mersha couldn't remember where he'd been born, he just said his mother had always described it as a dull and lonely place. When Tarlequin had asked him whether he missed his mother very much, the boy had only said that he knew it wasn't the Outcast's fault. Then he'd continued his silent behaviour until he'd left again.

'Who does he think he is?' an angry voice brought Tarlequin back to the real world.

'He's the Outcast.' A younger voice cheerfully replied.

'I know that, still he has no right to tell me what to do! It's in my nature to mark my territory...' the first voice snapped.

'But if it bothers the others...' the younger voice started, but it was interrupted.

'I don't care about the others!'

'Oh really?' Now that was Feyn's voice, Tarlequin could tell. 'Then why exactly are you here with us? Remember, you're free to leave any time, if you go somewhere else, you're free to mark whatever and whenever you like...' Her voice was calm and soothing but there lay a threatening tone in it.

'But...' the previously angry voice stammered.

'There is no but, you know the rules, anybody hindering anybody else from living happily in our tribe must adapt or leave.' Feyn said.