Shatauz had done good reconnaissance. There was indeed a herd of red deer moving slowly through the slick, chilly forest, huddling together against the first cold of the season. Halla followed as best as she could in the wake of the two creeping Uruks. The wind was blowing in from the northeast, drawing the cold down the mountain, so the party was careful to get well around the deer. One breath of their scent would send the deer stampeding away, cold or not.
They decided to shoot at the same time. Maukurz loaned Shatauz one of his arrows, one with more orange than brown so that they'd know for certain how effective the new bow was. Halla stood behind the hunters as they crept within range of the herd, Shatauz getting a little closer to compensate for the lack of recurve. She watched them eagerly, the first of the turning leaves swirling like wet yellow snowflakes around the Uruks. Halla watched the muscles in Maukurz's back ripple as he drew the Rohirric bow, a warm flush creeping up her throat to know that all of that male power was hers. Then the two Uruks let their arrows fly. The deer startled and came to life, bolting in terror, leaving behind two downed does. Shatauz let out a whoop of joy, and the Uruks ran in to see their kills. Halla followed behind.
"Oh…." Shatauz purred gleefully. "Look how deep the arrow went in!"
"She's not dead," Halla said, looking up at Maukurz. The doe's breath gurgled; the arrow had punctured the lungs, but not the heart.
"She will be," Shatauz said, stomping one sandaled foot on the animal and bending down to wrench his arrow out.
Maukurz narrowed his eyes at Halla, then put his hand on Shatauz's arm. "Get your knife, cut her throat quick."
Shatauz shrugged, pulled his best knife out of the strap of hide he'd tied around his thick thigh. He bent and cut the doe's throat in one efficient stroke. Halla had felt invigorated by the cold and the morning's lovemaking, but at the great gorge of blood gushing from the doe's neck, her stomach clenched and bile rose, and she spun away from the Uruks just in time to vomit all over the soggy earth. The smell of the fresh blood in the cold air reminded her of the blood month when Uncle Aelfred slaughtered the terrified, squealing hogs. Helpless, Halla vomited again and again until her belly and her throat burned, and tears rushed down her cheeks.
Maukurz was over her quickly. He'd had the sense to gather her long pale hair in one hand, and now that she was done throwing up, trembling from the exertion, he swept her up in his arms.
"She sick?" Shatauz asked nervously. "Or she don't like blood?"
"No," Maukurz told him. "You never went in the pits, so you wouldn't know. When the whelp takes sometimes they puke. Just means the whelp's gettin' stronger."
"I think… I think I'm better…" Halla said shakily.
"All the same, I think I'm gonna show you how to shoot later. You need to eat something now."
Halla groaned at the thought of food, but her belly growled. "I can walk," she said. "You all have to carry the deer anyway."
"So the little one's growing now?" Shatauz asked eagerly. "Just now, it got bigger?"
Maukurz didn't like anyone else talking or thinking about Halla—especially Halla's body—but he understood that her pregnancy was going to be a source of interest and excitement for the entire group. Maukurz and Baiurz, the only officers, were the only ones who'd been ordered to the pits. And even those two had been moved on to the next female as soon as pregnancy was verified by the Master. Breeding was a mystery to them.
Halla laughed softly. "I think it always grows, bit by bit all the time. But the baby is very small now. Of course, I don't know how different this will be…" Halla said, squeezing Maukurz's hip playfully, bringing a quick smile to the Uruk's face. No matter how long he had her with him, the thrill of being touched affectionately by her would never lessen.
Maukurz shrugged his deer up on his shoulders and took her hand. "How long does it take to be done? When can I see him?"
"Nine months—nine turns of the moon. So Baby will be born in the springtime, since it was the middle of August—I think that day by the pool did it—"
"Yep," Maukurz chuckled. "I fucked up. Missed you so damn much…"
"I'm glad, Maukurz," Halla said, drawing his hand to her lips quickly. "Truly, I am glad. I love you. I belong with you."
"My ashgaz," Maukurz murmured, elated.
"Now I'm gonna puke," Shatauz muttered.
"Shut the fuck up," Maukurz growled, shoving the other Uruk's shoulder roughly. "Halla… tell us more about Baby."
Shatauz grinned eagerly, nodding his head. Halla smiled, enjoying how open the Uruks were with each other. Not like Men, who guarded their emotions and prevaricated and could hate someone for having the wrong manners, or not enough money! After her marriage, such honesty, as she saw it, was downright refreshing to Halla. "Well," she said, "I'm going to get a little bigger—just for a while, Maukurz, so don't worry."
"You, big?" he laughed, but then he furrowed his brow and asked, "How… big?" He pictured himself crawling inside Halla's body, he imagined the whelps coming out of their sacks, and the combined image was disgustingly terrifying.
"Not terribly big," Halla assured him, pouting a little in empathy at Maukurz's horrified expression. "A Mannish baby's about so big when it's born," she said, slipping out of Maukurz's grasp to hold her hands up. "Your baby can't be too much bigger…" Halla said, her voice trailing off. She didn't need to think about what could go wrong.
"Do you know... how to get it out?" Maukurz wondered anxiously.
Halla took Maukurz's hand again. "It comes out the same way it got in. It's what women's bodies are made to do."
Maukurz grimaced. He remembered how hard it was the first time he'd taken her. How she cried out for him to stop, how she bled. Even now he was careful with her. Maukurz had been so wrapped up in pleasure-physical and otherwise-to think much about the specifics of whelping. Now he was worried-terrified, even-that Baby would hurt Halla. He couldn't bear to think of anything bad happening to her. "I'm no Man, ashgaz," Maukurz said softly, masking his anxieties as best he could for her sake. "What if Baby gets too big, and can't come out? How would I save you?"
"I don't think my body will let that happen," Halla said, frowning.
"Can you be sure?"
"Ailith's baby didn't cause her problems," Halla said, and then she caught her breath and bit her lip. Stupid! Halla chided herself.
Maukurz looked at her sharply. "There was a whelp? A baby?"
Halla worried her lower lip; she looked up at Maukurz, meeting his suprised face. "Yes," Halla admitted. She tried to direct the conversation away, so that she didn't have to tell him what Ailith had done. "And she lived, she wasn't harmed."
"Did the baby live?"
Halla shook her head. "She was... not well in her mind then, Maukurz." Halla sighed, thinking how much more she could sympathize with Ailith now; thinking how horrible the whole thing was.
"She killed it," he said, looking back out to the narrow trail.
"Yes."
Maukurz swallowed hard, wondering why it should upset him so much. He, who had fathered hundreds, all of whom were dead now! What did one more dead whelp matter? Had he really just never thought of it before? His own offspring?
He squeezed Halla's hand tightly. "So Baby's gonna be little when he comes outta yuh. How long does he take to get big?"
"That I don't know," Halla said, smoothing her thumb softly over the back of Maukurz's hand. "You all are different. But probably some years. And it might not be a he, Maukurz."
"Cap'n don't shoot females," Shatauz said, grinning as he rejoined the conversation.
Yes I do, Maukurz thought. He banished the thought from his mind, though he couldn't forget his Master's cold gaze as the half-formed female Uruk was stripped from the sack, thin-skinned and freakishly weak, just to be butchered. I am disappointed with you, Captain, the wizard had said, his voice cold steel slipping neatly into flesh.
"Watch you mouth, shit face," Maukurz snapped. He breathed deeply and looked down at Halla again, her lovely face, dispelling the uncomfortable dark memories. "Whatever it is, male or female, I will be glad," Maukurz said firmly. "All of us will be glad. But we need males most."
"You sure about that?" Halla asked, smiling at him. Here Maukurz was the same as any Man, wanting a son. "Seeing as how females are hard to come by, I think a girl might be better."
"Give us a few of each," Shatauz compromised.
Maukurz growled, glaring at Shatauz. But Halla stood up for herself. "All right, now you're pushing it," Halla laughed at the other Uruk. "It's not easy to have a baby! And it's certainly not yours. You'll be his or her uncle. That' the father's brother. You can teach Baby how to make knives and bows."
Shatauz was charmed. He grinned, and the situation was diffused without any bad feelings for anyone. Maukurz let go of Halla's hand and slung his arm over her hips, hugging her to him.
"With Shatauz's bows, we'll have plenty to feed you," Maukurz told her gladly. "Everyone's gonna have his own, and we'll make you one too. 'Cause you won't be able to pull mine without my help. But you don't have to get your own meat. I do that for you, and Baby until he—or she, I guess—is big enough to hunt." Maukurz grinned, imagining the future, all of his life with Halla, surrounded by his strong offspring.
"It's gonna be hard to hunt in the high snows," Shatauz warned. "Remember what it was like up here two winters back, when we camped out after those raids? That's what I can't figure: how we'll hunt on the bad days, when the blizzards come in."
"Hunt in the snows?" Halla asked. "Whatever for? Don't you lay meat aside for the winter?"
"Meat rots," Shatauz said, shaking his head. "Cave'll get all full of flies and maggots."
"We'll smoke it," Halla said. "Set up a frame over a fire, then make thin strips of meat and hang them over the fire. We'd also smoke the fire up by adding some wet wood and damp leaves. The smoke dries the meat, and then we can store it for the winter."
"Oh, she's good," Shatauz said approvingly.
Maukurz squeezed Halla's' hips gently, knowing he was lucky indeed.
After feeding Halla a small steak, Maukurz and Shatauz got to work on butchering their deer as Halla told them to. There was snow on the ground, but the Uruks quickly dug out a pit and lined it with stones. Halla was astounded at how fast they could work. She thought sadly that all of their bodies, for what she'd seen of them, were covered in not only battle scars but whiplash. Saruman had forced the incredible strength of the Uruks to wicked use; but, Halla thought, here they were now turning that strength towards preserving their small community. They were certainly rough spoken and tempermental, but they had the same problems and concerns as everyone else; even more so, for it seemed they new precious little about surviving. There is no reason we can't live side by side in peace, she thought, Uruks and Men. She wondered desperately if something like that could be achieved before Baby's time came. If only Ailith would help me… There was no one who knew better. But, Halla realized, all of that was about as likely as the sun rising in the night. I will be on my own for the birth. I'd just better prepare myself for it.
Halla put her hands on her hips and smiled, watching her lover and his friend as they tied long strips of venison to the high frame. "You're doing it perfectly!" she said, and Maukurz grinned at her, bright eyed.
From the cave, Baiurz watched with grudging wonder and admiration. Halla had won his approval yet again. Usually whatever was slaughtered was thrown down on the floor and devoured down to the bones, which the Uruks bit open and sucked the marrow from. But this way, Halla's way, would keep their bellies full on the worst winter days. I'll defend that girl with my life, Baiurz thought, nodding to himself.
"Hey, what's this shit?" Narzum called as he approached the cave, dragging the broken carcass of a goat along by a horn. "A warning to the other deer?"
Halla laughed along with Maukurz and Shatauz. "My lil girl figured out how to keep us full on days we can't find meat," Maukurz said proudly. "The smoke'll keep the maggots off, and we can store it in the cave."
"We'll dig a pit!" Halla added brightly. "If the soil's deep in the cave, we can do it there. Dig a pit and line it with stone, put in the smoked meat and cover it with stone or hides.
"Nice," Narzum said. "No more hungry days, huh? Nice. But wait… Where's Dagalur? He never came back?"
"He's probably runnin' it off," Shatauz said. "Wearin' himself out a bit, so he don't get so…" the Uruk looked at Maukurz, rather than Halla. "Heated up. At night."
"Nar usta za kau," Maukurz growled, but then he looked at Halla, and her nervous eyes were on the fire and a flush was in her cheeks. She knew just what was going on. "I don't wanna kill him," Maukurz told the others quietly. "But I will."
Dagalur lay on his belly in the thorny bushes, watching a camp of Dunlendings. His eyes were fixated on a thick hipped woman with long, tied back red hair. She scraped a hide, her heavy breasts swinging back and forth behind her dress with her motion. Suddenly she stopped, as if someone had called her. She rose on her knees, wiping a lock of red hair from her sun-tanned face. Two little Man-whelps ran up to her, a male and a female, pushing and shouting at each other. The boy had a bruised apple in his hands, and the girl pointed and shouted and sobbed. Dagalur watched as the woman grabbed the apple and used her skinning knife to cut it in half. She offered the little whelps each a piece, and they snatched it and ran off without a backwards glance. The woman stared after them for a moment, then took her knife and bent over again, efficiently scraping away. The wind blew in Dagalur's face and he inhaled deeply, licking his lips.
Only moments later, there was a shout and a group of furry, hide-wearing Men burst out of one of their mean round dwellings. They hadn't seen Dagalur—not a chance—but all the same they were armed with clubs and close enough to the woods to catch him if they only walked about a little. The Uruk shuffled backwards, thorns scraping over his tough skin, tearing at the shoulders of his tunic. He was disappointed to leave, but he had seen what he wanted now. All that remained was figuring out how to get it.
"Nar usta za kau" - "He won't think of that again"