Talie's Story

Talie's Story is a short story takes place after the fifteenth book, Barbarian's Tease, of the Ice Planet Barbarians series. It is part of the Bedtime Stories short story series, which were published on Ruby Dixon's facebook page.

It features Talie, Vekka, and Georgie.

## Story

GEORGIE

I’m woken from my sleep by a little hand patting my arm. “Mama,” Talie whispers.

I’m immediately alert, my senses flaring with alarm. I’m alone in bed. It’s late at night, the fire low. There’s a chill in the hut that will be gone come morning, but the little daughter that kneels next to my furs seems oblivious to it. She’s in her little sleep shift, her curly hair a tangled mess around her horns.
Nothing looks wrong. I relax a little and sit upright in bed, rubbing my eyes. “What is it, baby?”

“I can’t sleep. I miss Papa.” Her big eyes blink at me, all sadness. “Can I sleep with you?”

I nod and pull the blankets up, inviting her in. “Don’t wake your sister,” I tell her, keeping my voice low.

She crawls under the furs happily, tucking her body against mine. I don’t protest when she sticks her cold feet on my thighs, because the rest of her is warm and sweet, and because, well, she’s my baby. She’s peed on me, barfed on me, sneezed into my mouth, and any number of other yucky things and I took it all with a smile. I can deal with cold feet. I pull the blankets close and wrap my arms around her, giving her a kiss between her tiny horns, just like she likes.

“Go to sleep, baby.” I yawn and hold her close, breathing in her scent.

I’ve just about drifted off to sleep again when Talie pats my arm again. “Mama?”

“Mmm?”

“Will you tell me a story? About Papa? I miss him.”

Oh, she’s not the only one that misses Vektal. I miss him like air. He’s been gone for weeks now, having traveled off with Bek, Rokan and the others to go determine the fate of the second ship and the twenty sleeping people. We discussed things and I told him how I felt, but at the end of the day, he’s the one that makes the decision. What happens when he gets there might be totally different than what we planned, and I’m fine with that. I know he has to do what he feels is right, and so I’m not going to worry about it until he returns.

If he comes back with twenty new people, we’ll figure it out. If he doesn’t…I’ll be there to hold him close to me and tell him that he did the right thing. I’ll always support him.

But…he’s been gone for a full moon now, and there’s no sign of him. And I ache that he’s been gone so long. Being here without him feels like being without half of me. Ever since Talie was born, he’s cut back his long hunting excursions to shorter, more frequent trips so he could stay home and help with the kits. He hasn’t been gone so long in what feels like forever, and it’s been hard. I’ve got two little girls and with my pregnancy, it’s been rough.

And I worry. I worry something will go wrong. I worry that more slavers are going to return, or the sleepers will murder everyone, or they’ll have a sickness that will overcome the khui, or a million other terrible scenarios.

I keep this to myself, though. As far as Talie knows, Papa’s away hunting. That’s all she needs to know, and I’ll fight like a tiger to protect my baby girl from worrying about things.
“I miss Papa, too, baby,” I tell her softly.

A moment later, something pulls on my hair. It’s my little Vekka, crawling over my pillow and into bed with me and Talie. I bite back my sigh. So much for not waking her sister. I can’t be mad, though. As I settle in my small daughters – one under each arm – I suppress another yawn. I can sleep when they’re grown, I guess. “All right, Talie. What kind of story do you want?”

Vekka just sucks her thumb, watching me with sleepy, half-lidded eyes, her face tucked against me. She’s all cheeks and curls, this one, whereas Talie looks just like her father…except for my nose and my flyaway curly hair.

Talie is wide awake, though, and she’s excited at the prospect of another bedtime story. She looks at me brightly and squirms with happiness. “Tell me about how you met Papa! I love that tale.”

Again? “I told you that one earlier tonight.”

She thinks for a minute. “You can tell me about the games you play.”

Maybe I’m too sleepy, but I can’t for the life of me figure out what she’s talking about. “Games?” I ask with another yawn. “What games?”

“You know, when Papa comes home and you make us stay with Aunt Maylak overnight. You guys have tickle fights. Aunt Liz told me.”

I’m glad it’s dark and she can’t see the blush on my cheeks. I have to bite back the absurd, silly giggle rising in my throat. Tickle fights? Liz is so dead when she gets back. “Yes. Tickle fights.”

“Do you win or does Papa win?”

“Oh, I think we both win,” I tell her, storing this to tell Vektal about when he returns home. He’ll laugh long and hard about it.

“You should let Papa win, Mama. He’s the chief.”

Papa usually lets Mama ‘win’ at least two or three times before he wins, I want to tell her, but that’s just too much innuendo for a six year old. “I’ll keep that in mind, baby.”

Vekka pulls her thumb out of her mouth with a pop. “Pa-pa.”

“Yep, I miss Papa, too,” I tell my girls, hugging them close. “But sometimes he has to leave for a bit and do chief things. You know he wants to come home to his girls as soon as he can. And when he does, he’ll hug and kiss you both.”

“But no tickling,” Talie says solemnly. “He needs to save that for Mama.”

Oh god, I really am going to burst out laughing. “That’s right. Mama gets all of Papa’s tickles. She doesn’t like to share them.”

My daughter thinks for a moment. “Are you sure I can’t have the story of when you and Papa met?”

“How about something else?” I stroke Vekka’s hair absently. She’s got my curls, but they’re not soft like Talie’s. They’re coarse, like Vektal’s, and so they stick up even worse than Talie’s does. She looks like a darling tumbleweed, my little Vekka. Touching her hair makes me miss Vektal even more, because it reminds me of when I sleep and turn over and get a mouthful of his mane. I sigh, because I’d give anything to have that happen right now. I miss him so much.

“If I can’t have that story…how about the story of when you met Aunt Liz?”

Minx. “Nice try.” We’re not going there. It’s too dark and awful a story, especially for a child. “Why don’t I tell you about…the two most perfect princesses in all the land?”

She snuggles down next to me, her eyes bright with interest. “What’s a princess, Mama?”

“It’s kind of like a chief, but a girl.”

“Then why wouldn’t you just call her a chief? Why does it matter that she’s a girl?”

“You’re right. It shouldn’t matter at all.” I pull her closer, tucking her against me. “All right. This is a story about two perfect chief’s daughters. “

“What are their names?” I can hear the yawn in her voice, and it makes me smile.

I pretend to mull it over. “We’ll call them…Valie and Tekka.”

“Those are good names. I like those.”

I thought she might. My Talie’s growing up as confident as Vektal. It makes me glad, because I never want her to worry about her place in the world. I hope she never has to worry about anything more than what animal she’s going to eat for dinner and who she’ll resonate to. “They’re wonderful names. Valie and Tekka were the smartest, bravest girls in the tribe, because they had the smartest, bravest father. He loved them very, very much, and whenever he had a chance, he would take Valie and Tekka out hunting with him. He would show them how to throw spears that were just their size, how to make a net and cast it into the water, and how to set a trap so well that a quill-beast would just wander into it. And they were such clever girls that they quickly learned all the lessons that their father had to teach them.”

On one side, Vekka makes a soft baby-noise that I recognize. She sighs when she sleeps, and right now she’s sighing, her breathing even. I’m glad one of them has drifted off, at least. Now I just have to finish entertaining Talie.

“So,” I continue in a low voice. “Their father decided that he would need an entirely different challenge for his smart daughters. He decided that they would have…a contest.”

“A contest?”

“Yup. Whichever daughter won the contest would get to become chief after him. There can be only one chief at a time, and both of his daughters were perfect in his eyes, so he couldn’t possibly choose one over the other. So he decided a contest was the only way to do it.”

“What did the chief’s daughters have to do?” She sets her head down against my shoulder once more, her little horn jabbing into my skin.

I don’t mind it. Like cold feet, it doesn’t truly bother me because it comes from my Talie. “He told them they both needed to catch a fish. Whichever one brought him back the biggest fish would show that they were the best provider for the tribe, and that daughter would be the chief.”

“That seems wise,” my daughter says sleepily, and for a moment she sounds so much like her father that I want to laugh aloud in the darkness. Sometimes Talie sounds far too old for her six seasons, and I think she’s picked up many of Vektal’s mannerisms.

“The younger daughter, Tekka, decided that she would go to her favorite fishing stream and cast her nets day in and day out, over and over again until she caught the biggest fish there. She knew it would take time, and she knew it wasn’t flashy, but that was the way she knew how to work, and she knew she would get results.” It’s all bullshit, of course. Vekka’s too little to be as patient as I’ve made her in the story, but it’s late and I’m still half asleep and it sounds good.

“I know what the other chief’s daughter would do,” Talie says to me.

I’m glad for that, because now I don’t have to think up the rest of the story. “What’s that?”

“She would take all her friends with her to the great salt lake, where the really big fish live. And she would have all of them catch fish, and she would take the biggest one back to her father. It would be her catch because she’s the one that organized everything. And being a leader is about involving the tribe and making sure everyone takes part, right, Mama?”

For a moment, I’m stunned beyond words. Not only did my little girl think up a clever plan, but she found a way to involve the tribe, which is something Vektal would have suggested as well. “That’s right, baby. You’re very smart.” And I’m totally telling her father all about this when he gets home. He’ll be so proud.

She pats my chest with her small hand. “So who won?”

Even though it’s just a story, I hesitate to pick one child over the other. This is a story for Talie, but it feels disloyal to dismiss the imaginary ‘Tekka’ as well. “Who do you think won?”

“I think Valie won, because she would be the best chief. Tekka would find fish, but she worked alone. That’s not what a chief does. A chief brings everyone together.”

She’s not wrong.

“And then,” my daughter continues in that too-wise voice, “Valie should make Tekka chief hunter, because she would be so good at bringing food back and she can hunt alone as much as she wants. That way they both do what they’re good at. What do you think, Mama?”

Again, I’m speechless. How did I raise such a smart, wise girl? Every leadership decision I make is questioned and questioned over and over again, and I know I’ve made missteps. I’ve never wanted – or tried – to be leader until I met Vektal, and it’s been a learning process. But Talie?

My clever Talie gets it. “I think that’s exactly how the story goes, baby. You’ve got it.”

She snuggles down against me, happy to have guessed things. A little yawn escapes her. “Can I tell Papa that story when he gets back?”

“I would love that,” I say, and kiss her forehead again. “Now go to sleep.”

“Yes, Mama.” Her arms wrap around my arm, and I feel her tail lock around my wrist, as if she’s making sure I don’t go away like Papa did. After a short time, her breathing evens out, and she’s asleep once more.

Me, I stay awake, thinking. I think about Talie, and even though I think she’s going to be a great leader when she gets older, I hope I never see it, because I never want to lose my Vektal. But that’s a worry for another day, I think. I fight back a yawn and the urge to roll over in bed. There’s no rolling over, not with two extra bodies tucked against me. I’m sandwiched between my girls, and that means I don’t have much room to get comfortable on my own.

That’s all right, though. Without them, the bed’s too cold and far too empty.

“Come home soon, my resonance,” I whisper, and hope that wherever Vektal is, he’s thinking of me and his daughters.

But I know that he is.