The Prince's Mark

Chapter Seventeen

Tracou remained with the Zeibr until his back recovered, which took several days. In that time, Tracou had dealt with more children than he ever had previously. Everyone had to contribute if they wanted to eat and he was in no position to go hunting. Those who didn't hunt could go foraging, which required knowledge of the local fauna that Tracou didn't possess. He had always relied on Serpouhi to know what kind of herbs did what. So, like Skender, he was stuck at the encampment watching children.

The work wasn't terribly difficult, but it wasn't enjoyable either. He had to keep an eye on certain children at all times or they would start eating things that weren't edible. Unlike Skender, Tracou couldn't chide them in a way they understood, so he had to physically stop them from doing anything dangerous. Some of the children were rather aggressive for being so small and liked to hit others, which had to be stopped as well. Their ages ranged from infants, which was Tracou's least favorite age to deal with, to around five years old. After that, they could join the foragers. Those who wanted to join the hunting party had to wait until puberty.

Things got much better around sundown when the rest of the group returned.

The others were friendly, but distant, which was to be expected when Tracou didn't understand a word of what they were saying. The majority of his interactions were with Skender and Vanya. Despite the language barrier, Vanya spent a lot of time with him. Whenever the hunting and foraging parties returned, Vanya would suddenly appear at his side, chattering away. Sometimes, when Vanya got tired of babbling, he tried to teach Tracou Zeibr words. He would point to something, say the word, and then look at Tracou expectantly. The sounds were difficult for Tracou to make, so it took a few tries for him to get the word to an acceptable level. Having a child around ten or eleven repeat what he clearly thought was a simple word over and over until Tracou got it right was humiliating. Often, Tracou would get up to take a walk just to get away from it.

On his sixth morning with the Zeibr, Tracou slipped out of the tent at sunrise like he always did. Most of the people in the camp got up at that time, which was both good and bad. If they had been like Mirthal, he would have had time to himself. But this way he couldn't wake anyone up by accident so there was at least that.

Tentatively, Tracou stretched his back. The pain had dulled considerably.

As he waited for breakfast, Tracou sat staring at the sunrise. He should head towards that sunrise soon. The Zeibr had been kind to him, but he couldn't stay with them forever.

Grass rustled behind him, sounding like a creature was stomping around. He turned around, expecting a child, only to find a dove peering at him. Slowly, Tracou moved his entire body so he was facing the dove. It didn't run away or look the least bit startled.

The dove took a hop towards Tracou, paused, then hopped again. Tracou watched this, eyes wide. Soon the dove made its way to Tracou and hopped onto his leg. It leaned down towards Tracou's hand, towards the mark Mirthal had left on him.

This wasn't normal animal behavior. This had to be someone's familiar, but he didn't know anyone who used a dove. There was usually a faint link between a familiar and the dezmek who was connected to it, but he didn't feel anything.

Tracou jolted upright, knocking the dove off of him. The dove could have been an elf's familiar. And if it belonged to an elf, it might have been Pendaer's. He didn't know if elves could use this kind of magic, but if they could then he didn't want to deal with it.

Unless, of course, it was Mirthal's.

The dove fluffed up its pure white feathers, annoyed at the rude treatment, but hadn't flown away. It stood in the grass, just watching.