Page 84 of Protected by the Alien Warrior Triad

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Forn

Iturn to Chief Rattler. He sits in the place of honor. In front of him, the ancestral fighting ground is open and cleared. Rattler and his triad stare at us without blinking.

“Tammy found the source of the sickness,” I say, to a chorus of gasps that turn into hacking coughs. A sick Aurelian is about to bite into a haunch of deer, but I rush to him, ripping the meat from his hands.

“What farce is this?” Yells Cornal, aching to fight us and rip our throats out with his bare hands.

I show everyone the piece of meat. There is black residue, so faint that unless you were looking for it, you’d never notice.

I show everyone the piece of meat. There is black residue in the other haunches that had been prepared for mealtime.

“The meat has tasted rotten ever since the beginning of the sickness. Now I think about it, I remember noticing it – and many others of you have said the same. This is because it’s causing the sickness. Tammy saw a deer eating of a black mushroom, which makes us ill. That’s the reason that our tribe is dying – not a disease, but a poison. We must eradicate the mushroom, and in the meantime, eat only fish like the fish-eater triad. That’s why they never got sick.”

An idea hits me. I’ll take a gamble, hoping that I can convince my tribe and spare my triad the bloodshed of a losing battle.

“Tammy was brought to us to save our tribe in our time of need. Sheisfated to us, but in a bond greater than mere love. We must consult the Orb-God.”

Ton growls. “You accepted the challenge. You will fight first.”

I shake my head. “We have the right to consult,” I reply. “That is our tribe’s most sacred rule.”

Ton growls, but doesn’t protest. Even he must abide by that standard.

I gently pull Tammy from the ground, grabbing her and holding her tiny form tight against my body. Her harsh breathing breaks my heart with every rasp. It was she who stopped me from seeking audience with the massive, pulsating Orb-God that rules our tribe; and at the time it had been the right thing to do. She was being tested just as the warriors of our tribe are; and she had not yet found the key to solving the mystery of this sickness.

But now she has – she has proven herself worthy. Having recognized that will be the key to our survival. Without the Orb-God’s judgement and benevolence, we have no chance of finding our fated mates; so even the fish-eaters will respect its demands.

Benevolence. No, that is not the word. Our God demands violence to prove our worth – a bloody sacrifice, to be given before he allows our people to grow and spread our seed.

Chief Rattler tries to stand, but he is too weak. “He has the right,” he nods, coughing and wheezing. More of the blackness leaves his lips. It was so simple all this time. The meat of game animals is what has been poisoning my tribe.

At the end of the cavern is the long pathway to the shrine of our deity. I have seen the Orb-God only twice before, both times to consult it for our future. The thing is huge, dwarfing me and making me feel so small and insignificant in its presence.

Our Orb-God is a rippling sphere of pure power, floating above the rocks and crackling with barely-constrained energy. It is a thing, a presence – a sentient creature that can show you visions of your future, or smite you down just as easily, depending on its constantly shifting whims.

Those who have tried to take advantage of our tribe have all been smote down by the Orb-God in the past. Few dare to consult our deity for fear of what could happen if they are judged unworthy. Only those who are truly pure in their purpose – like a triad seeking a fated mate - have the courage and conviction to face the pulsating, sinister entity.

I now have that courage. In fact, I have no such fear. There is nothing the Orb-God can take from me that the poisoned mushrooms and the fish-eaters are not already threatening to.

I walk towards the back of the cavern, and the fish-eating triad moves to block my path.

“You would halt me from my blood-born right to consult our God?”

“Aye,” says Ton, staring with hatred towards Hadone. “I would. This one will die at my hand first.” He turns to me. “Damn it, put your wench down. I care not for what the Orb-God says. We fight, and we bleedtoday.”

I am painfully aware that I have no weapon. My Orb-Dagger is tucked away in Tammy’s robe. I could reach for it, but it would do little against the three full Orb-Blades of the fish-eating triad. Hadone and Darok are unarmed and would be cut down in seconds.

“She died.”

Hadone’s voice is cold and emotionless. I can feel nothing from him through the Bond. It is as though his aura is suddenly a piece of ice.

“Don’t speak in riddles, boy. What do you mean?”

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