Barbarian Mine (Ice Planet Barbarians #4)(16)

At the sight of her smile, my frantic anger dissipates a little. I’ll take care of the interloper and return to my sweet female. I pull my father’s knife out.

Her expression is troubled. “No, Rukh. No kill.” She pushes the knife down.

She doesn’t want me to go after them, to defend my territory. Does she know they are bad? I stare off into the horizon, where the hunter disappeared. I can go after him and track him down and kill him…but it will leave my Har-loh here, vulnerable. I can’t take her with me, because he cannot know I have her.

And I cannot abandon my Har-loh. My chest vibrates and purrs in that strange way it has been since I found her. I look over at her troubled face, and my heart aches. I don’t want to leave her.

I can’t leave her.

I sheathe my knife and grab her hand. Instead of heading back to our old cave, I will take her somewhere new, somewhere more remote. There are places even the bad ones don’t like to go. I will take her there, and she will be safe with me.

“Rukh?” she asks as I tug her along after me. “Wayrrwegoin?” When I don’t answer her, she plants her feet on the ground. “Rukh? Ansormee!”

I look over at her. Why is she not walking? A look down at her small feet shows she is not wearing the snowshoes I made for her. I release her hand, retrieve the shoes, and bend down to strap them to her feet.

She taps my shoulder. “Rukh? Wayrwegoin?”

Har-loh lets me put the shoes on her feet, but when I gesture that she should follow me, she doesn’t. Instead, she crosses her arms and gives me a frustrated look. I scrub my face with my hand and force myself to be patient. I will carry Har-loh if I must, but I need to get her away from here. Already the bad one might have found our footprints, or discovered the cave full of Har-loh’s creations. All of my important things – my knives, my waterskin – I have with me. Everything else can be abandoned, and will be abandoned, for Har-loh’s safety.

There are more caves, and better ones. I take her hand and gesture that we will walk. Not in the direction we came from, but a new direction.

Her brows wrinkle together in the funny, flat-face way she has. “Notgobak?”

I point ahead.

She points behind me and repeats herself. “Notgobak?”

“No.” I point ahead.

“Butmytings!” She tries to pull her hand out of mine. “Mifursenmiskins. Eyeneedem.”

“No,” I say flatly. I will not go back, no matter how upset it makes her. I cannot take the chance that the bad ones will take her from me. The fear gnaws at my mind, and vague flashes of memory come to the surface: my father’s tired face. Of another man – no, a boy – at home with us. Then, gone and the sense of enormous loss.

I squeeze Har-loh’s hand tight and pull her along. She will see I am right in this, given time.



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We walk until both suns have disappeared and the little moons are rising in the sky. There’s no shelter to be found, not out here. If it was just me, I would walk through the night and into the morning. I know where the next cave is, and were I alone, I would already be there.

But Har-loh has small feet and takes even smaller steps. She tires easily. She cannot keep up with me, and so I must slow down and wait for her.

She hasn’t complained, but I can tell she is exhausted. Her strangely colored face is pale and her small fingers feel like icicles in my hand. Her steps are slower than usual, and her teeth sometimes clack with the cold.

My female needs to rest. The drumming in my breast says so, and I am filled with more fierce possessiveness. I find a hollow in a cliffside, out of the wind, and take her there. “Sleep.” It is one of the words I have learned from her. “Har-loh Rukh sleep.” I point at the snowy ground.

She rubs her exhausted face. “Heer?”

I don’t know this word, but I am guessing she is asking where her cave is. I gesture at the ground. This is our place for tonight.

Her face crumples a little and she sniffs. Then she nods.

She looks so sad. I am filled with despair at the sight of it, and I touch her cheek. “Har-loh…fire?”

“Firenao? ButIdonhafdetings…” she gazes around at the snowy embankment, and another sniff escapes her.

I am filled with shame, and I press her small face to mine. I am not caring for her properly.

“Sokay,” she tells me with a small pat to my cheek. “Iyamjustired.” She takes off her snowshoes with slow movements and kicks them aside, then moves closer to the rocky wall. There’s a bit of a nip in the air, but I don’t feel the need for skins like she does. My initial thought of crouching low on the ridge above and watching for intruders disappears, and I know what I must do.

I take her cloak from her shoulders and then sit on the ground. I pull my Har-loh into my lap and pull her clothing open so her bare skin can press to mine, and then I wrap my body with her cloak. I will make her a warm cocoon of my skin, so she will not have to touch anything cold.

Her shivering stops and she gives a small sigh of pleasure and curls up against my chest. “Tankyew,behbeh.”

I feel like I’ve done something right. I hold her close to me and watch the horizon, my knife close at hand. I’ll stay up all night and guard her.



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