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Updated: July 4, 2025
Kalus watched her go, and though shocked and stunned and hurt himself, felt yet again the indestructible bond that was his love for her. When she struck him it had been as if he struck himself, and even as she promised to hurt him, his one thought was for her safety. Kataya, Komai, even the cub who stood beside him, became secondary, superfluous in his life.
For he was the one member of the company to whom Kataya would open her thoughts; and he, too, shared her desire to understand and cure the baffling self-destruction of the Children's bodies as they neared adulthood, never forgetting that a living soul was carried within.
As the man and woman continued to advance, a cry of 'Ay, oy! was heard, and the younger members leapt into the water, as the whales clustered about the lower stones, waiting. But one of the older males, in particular, showed no fear, and no sign of retreating. Kataya he knew, and trusted, and the strong man with the sheathed weapon he had seen, in the boat, far away.
He did not move, knowing by touch alone that it was not his mate. He knew it was Kataya, but was too exhausted, both physically and emotionally, to react one way or the other. But to the watching figure in the doorway, there was no such ambivalence. Sylviana was furious. How different when the shoe is on the other foot, was a thought she strangled as soon as it began to form inside her.
After all they had been through..... How could he think that she wouldn't come back to him, just because for a time she had been uncertain. Hadn't he driven her to it? That perhaps it was she who had driven him, that he had given Kataya something beautiful and desperately needed, that she herself might give such a precious gift to a man like Stenmark, none of these thoughts could occur.
Kataya asked Kalus to remain where he was, and walked the numbered strides that took her to the fourteen year old Ishmael. He smiled as she approached, and together they stood on the tiny patch of level ground between them. She brought an open hand to her chest, as she had done with Kalus, then opened it toward him in greeting.
He threw open the sleeping bag, longingly kissed her cheek, her neck, the lovely space above her breasts. 'Kataya, he whispered passionately, and there was nothing else in his world, no other salve for the endless pain and frustration. There was only her, here and now, her face wet with tears, vulnerable, compelling. He released the knotted loincloth, as their most sensitive reaches drew nearer.
Nothing at all. 'You haven't lost her, son. With this he looked ruefully toward Kataya. 'And if I'm any judge, you won't. Just be steady, with open arms, and she'll come back to you in time. But as McIntyre continued to study the younger man, he saw that his expression remained deeply troubled, so much so that he was truly touched, as Kalus had been at the simple confusion of Ishmael.
He put his hand beneath her chin and raised the lovely, oval face to look at him. 'You are very beautiful, Kataya. I have chosen Sylviana, but you are a woman that a man could truly love. She wrapped her hand about his wrist, whispered something in a strange language, then broke off and quickly walked away. He watched her go in sadness.
Their restless mounts surged beneath them, and soon they were drifting out of sight. Kataya stood motionless, as if frozen by a curse, until she felt Kalus' warm hands upon her shoulders. She brushed him aside angrily, pulling forward. But this time he did not relent, listening to his instincts instead. He grasped her by the arms and turned her towards him, holding her firmly as she struggled.
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