Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 12

The Armsmaster beckoned her inward, but Akuna would not enter the room. The soldiers watched her with confusion, not understanding her reluctance. Her eyes went to the Armsmaster again and saw the same bewilderment, but when she looked to the male soldier further back in the room beyond, she grew tense at the sight of his weapon.

A crackle-stick. A rifle. Crafted of cold metal and brown wood. All held in Shigu hands. Such honorable hands cradling such an unhonorable weapon. Her heart fluttered at how there was no guilt in the soldier's face, only heavy confusion at why she looked at him with such disgust. She knew of the muscles tightening all over her body, tail twitching erratically, fur bristling.

"Something amiss, First Captain?" Armsmaster Highlen Cost asked of her. He waited in front of her, just before the entrance to the room ahead.

"What is this?" she asked with a sneer. Her eyes looked to the soldier holding the gun, then to Highlen. She waited for an answer, from anyone.

"The girl has never seen a rifle before," another male inside the room quipped. The soldiers laughed. The Armsmaster and Akuna remained unmoved.

"I've seen those things before," Akuna spat, waving a hand at the firearm as if to ward away a bothersome insect. "I've fought in several battles against those who dared harm my brothers and sisters with such weapons.  I've killed many too, showing them the honor of my axe and spear while they died holding those shameful tools."

"You have a dislike for guns, First Captain?" Highlen asked, his voice full of curiosity.

"I have a dislike for their nature," she answered. "There is little honor in ranged combat and even less in those things.  My blood boils to see them in Shigu hands."

"You do know that we fought with these weapons before?" Highlen asked. "We defended ourselves in the eastern plains.  Against nevreans that attacked us day and night."

"I was there, Armsmaster," Akuna growled. "I was shot in the shoulder, broke a nevrean's arm, and skewered her through the middle.  I know we fought with their own arms, but that was only because we had a need for them.  Against the weaker, more pitiful bird-folk.  But you do know too that we disowned them once General Rain informed us of their darker purpose?  The black magic held within them?"

"And in the black blades too?  Aye, I remember.  I remember I was made to burn both rifle and black sword in a great bonfire.  A warrior knows the worth of a weapon and it was sad to see good armaments melt and burn despite Rain's goodwill.  Black magic or no magic, did you ever think Rain had other intentions?"

"In what way?"

"Her blade could cut through any, but so could the nevreans when we faced in battle.  What if they were the same?  Crafted by the same technique?  Unbreakable blades, at least against another.  And the guns, well...it was said Silves could catch arrows, but a bullet was too quick for even her eyes to follow.  The guns and the black blades would contend against her power as General, don't you see?"

The accusation felt like a slap to the face, even if it weren't against Akuna's own character. "You dare to accuse the General of such schemes?  She was our Mother General, she looked to protect us, her army and the children of her clan.  Once she caught whiff of the spiritual darkness, she knew what was required and we complied."

"No one can say if there truly was a darkness in those weapons, but they were certainly a threat to both the General's will and the power of her halabard.  I would have done the same as she did, if I held her rank."

"The General's intentions were for the benefit of her troops," Akuna told him.

"Perhaps so, but that was the past and this is the now." Highlen pointed into the chamber behind him. "On the eastern plains, the nevreans were the threat and we used their own guns against them.  Today, the southerners are the threat and they use the same weapons, maybe even deadlier.  Honor or no honor, we cannot deny their use.  This is progress and it could mean victory or defeat for our clan.  Please, come in and we will show you."

Again, Akuna waited there, weighing her options. She wanted nothing more than to turn her back and have nothing to do with this ordeal. But that would be a sin on her part. She could not turn her back on a superior like Highlen even though she saw his wisdom as flawed and the rifles as a sign of weakness. Her leaving would be seen as cowardice.

"Little by little, for the next few days, more will be revealed to you about us," Vok had told her atop one of the Narulus' towers days ago. "Some you might agree with, some you may not, but you must understand, our creed is for Clan Shigu to rule all that stands before it."

The use of crackle-sticks was a corrupted act and one that Akuna could not condone, but she still believed Vok's intentions were for the greater welfare of Clan Shigu, even though they contradicted Rain's own intentions. For now, she would tolerate the sight of these firearms and the sound of their ear-rupturing blasts, but she would not do it happily.

Akuna entered the room and the Armsmaster came in after her. The sound of the door closing echoed greatly through the long, wide chamber they were in. The place had an arched ceiling, the darkness chased away by torchlight. All around them, the slightest movement, the slightest whisper would resonant against the stone walls.

"Here," a female approached Akuna, her voice echoing in the airy chamber. Looking down at the female's open palm, Akuna saw two balls of gray wax. She reluctantly accepted them, but was ignorant of their use until she saw Highlen stuffing his own balls of wax into his long, green ears.

"For the sound," he said once he noticed her watchful gaze. "The gunfire will rob you of your hearing after a while.  And don't push them so far down, otherwise you won't be about to get them out."

Deciding it was best to follow his example, Akuna stuffed the gray wax down into the holes of her ears. All around her, sounds became muffled, all except her own breathing and voice.

Highlen said something to the soldier with the rifle. The male gave a curt nod, turned, held up his weapon, and fired. "Shit!" Akuna spat out. Even with the plugs, the noise was mighty painful. Before she could even recover from the first shot, a second came. Then another, again and again, feeling as if some crazed blacksmith was hammering a spike through her skull.

Looking past the rifle-carrier, Akuna saw his targets. Waiting at far end of the chamber, glass bottles and green melons stood upon a low wall of stacked stones while dummies filled with straw and sand stood at the ready. Another shot rang out and a bottle shattered. Another and a dummy gained a hole in it's hay. One more and sand leaked from a bullet hole. After each shot, the soldier pulled a lever on the gun and a spent shell was spat out. Looking to the floor, Akuna could see many spent spells around her feet, their metal coats sparkling in the torchlight.

After awhile, the soldier motioned for more bullets with an open hand. Another soldier provided him with a handful and the boy quickly loaded them individually into the rifle before continuing. Despite her opinion on the weapon, Akuna noticed the accuracy of the boy's shots and so did Highlen, voicing his pride towards the male's skills.

"Let's show...  ...   ...  the ...  one," the Armsmaster said.

The rifle-carrier took a seat upon a long, black crate and another soldier, a female in the prime of her age, took his place and aimed with a different sort of gun.

Akuna gave a startled jump at the rapid-fire of this new weapon. Bursts of fire were let out, the shoots too quick to count, shells clattering to the floor. The shots were scattered, ravaging stone, glass, hay, sand, and melon alike. Not as precise as the last, but a charging battalion would swiftly turn into a bloodbath at the other end of that weapon, Akuna surely knew.

Again, Highlen gave his praise. They both smiled and laughed, adding to Akuna's discontent towards this place and these crackle-sticks. She expected another demonstration, but she was surprised to see the Armsmaster waving her over. Reluctantly, she came towards him, watching as the female walked to the side and disassemble her rapid-fire rifle.

"Perhaps you would like to take a few shots?  Eh, First Captain?" Highlen asked her with his muzzle pressed near her ear, his breath tickling the hairs inside. He turned his head to the side and spoke to one of his troops. "Let's start her off small.  Get her the pistol."

"Keep your guns away from me," she sneered, her voice clear inside her skull. "I'd rather not soil my hands by holding your foul weaponry." But before she could voice another insult, Highlen had his fingers around her wrist, pressing cold metal against her palm.

"Nonsense, Akuna," he said with his lips close to her ear again. "A few shots won't hurt.  There's no dishonor in that, yes?  Also, you wouldn't want my fellows to think you're afraid of these little things, no?"

"I'm not afraid!" she growled at him, tail twitching with irritation behind her.

"Then," he said, forcing her fingers to wrap around the handle of the gun, "let's see how good your aim is.  Have you ever used a bow before?"

"Never.  Another coward's weapon, but not as cowardly as this," she said, looking at the object clutched in her hand. Dark metal, brown wood, shining ever so slightly. She examined it closely, moving her grip around more comfortably with Highlen's hand over her's.

She struggled to release the weapon, but Highlen would not allow it. "You say you are not afraid," he cackled, "but you squirm like a scared cub."

Akuna resisted the urge to elbow him in his gut, even as his hold on her hand remained strong.

"Enough, Akuna," the Armsmaster said. "Just a few shots.  That's all I want to see.  You'll look a coward in front of my squad."

Those few words quickly put an end to Akuna's stubbornness. The strength left her arm as a grunt of frustration left her lungs.

With his hand wrapped around hers and hers wrapped around the gun, Highlen straightened her arm out. "Use your other hand too.  Put it over mine." She did so, wrapping her fingers over his. "Find the trigger.  See the loop there?  Good, there, but don't pull it just yet.  Ever hear a bow master tell his student look down the length of the arrow?'"

"I have."

"Just so, look down the length of the gun, closing one eye and looking with the other." Akuna did so. "Now, make it level," and the gun's tip and tail were aligned. "Let us find a target.  See that melon?  Focus and line it up, put the melon right above the gun's tip.  Good, good.  Keep your arm steady now.  The kick is powerful, so keep your arms and hands tense."

Without instruction, Akuna's finger pressed against the trigger. A spark of light erupted with a furious sound, tearing at Akuna's ears. She barked in distress, prompting Highlen to laugh along with his troops. She could feel herself shake slightly, her arm held steady only by the Armsmaster's hand. There was an acrid smell in the air, smoke irritating her nostrils. "Well, you did get the melon," he giggled and Akuna indeed saw that the melon was gone, having toppled over the stone wall by the force of the shot. "Let's us see if you can hit a bottle..."

"Enough," she growled as she found her resistance again. "I'm through!" She pried her hand and fingers from the Armsmaster's grip and away from the gun. She felt soiled having held such cowardly tools of war. "Are we done here?" she looked to Highlen, her rage shown plain as she moved towards the exit, wrenching the balls wax out of her ears.

There was a look of surprise on the Armsmaster's face. "Don't want to stay, First Captain?  Shoot a few more shots?  Perhaps you would like to use the rifle?  Or the burst-fire?  Would you like another demonstration?" He waved a hand towards a black crate, it's top closed. "We have another gun here, the long-rifle, that can blow the muzzle off a southerner a rekusu away.  It's quite spectacular..."

"Excellent," she said with deep sarcasm, "another that brings dishonor to the name of our clan.  Keep your weapons away from me.  I've seen enough."

Highlen looked to his troops and smiled. "I'm sorry, my soldiers, but it seems she doesn't have a fondness of long, metal things.  Perhaps she likes the long, fleshly things more."

The soldiers laughed in chorus, their cackling echoing loudly in that hollow chamber. "Perhaps she likes the fleshy noodle better," the female holding the burst-fire rifle said, grabbing her crotch through her skirt.

"Eat my shit, bitch," Akuna retorted, going forward angrily. "I'll bite the noodle right off your cunt and eat it!"

The female didn't seem threatened. Instead, she laughed even harder along with her friends, holding the burst-rifle in her lap.

"Shut it!" Highlen yelled out, silencing his troops. "That's enough!  Keep your mouths closed.  The only thing I want to hear is your rifles firing.  I want each of you to be able to shoot a bead of spittle from a tongue a hundred paces away.  If you can't, I'll practice my own aim by shooting your fingers off at two hundred paces!"

Departing with the Armsmaster, Akuna gave the female with the burst-rifle one last sneer and an obscene gesture from the hand. The female repaid her in kind with the same.

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Rupland's legs felt they were likely to give under him, his muscles burning and aching and cramping underneath his fur. He leaned heavily on his crutch, listening as it creaked nosily, hoping it would not break. Thankfully he and the crutch persisted after the last upward flight of stairs was dominated. He took careful steps towards the door at the end of the hallway, morning sunlight casting shadows from the windows.

He wondered what sight awaited him beyond that door. How maimed would Cagost's face be? How much swelling? Any broken bones? Any missing teeth? No, he thought. It was not a question of if, but of how many. "Find the keep's healer," Akuna had told him and thus he had, but now he was skittish to see the results of the previous night's scuffle.

When Akuna and Brunka had returned to tell the tale of the brawl, he was pleased to hear of his mate's intervention.

"The bastard will be kissing my toes for what I did for him," she had said, relinquishing her shredded robe from her body and throwing it against the wall. "Should have known the gluttons would fancy a fight.  They had a thirst for drink, for food, for sex, and then they remembered their thirst for blood.  Cockless, spineless heathens.  Damn them all and damn them more if I'm made to suffer for my goodwill towards that lovesick idiot.  And damn you for making me feel responsible him!" She had looked at Rupland as if he too had given her some grievance.

Smiling, Rupland swung his legs off the bed and he lifted himself up. Forgetting his crutch, he nearly hopped to have his arms wrap around his mate's hips. "Thank you, Akuna," he said with his muzzle buried in the fluff of her chest. "I'll kiss your toes if you so desire," he whispered, holding onto her.

"Oh, you'll do more than that, you will!" she barked. "But right now all I desire is to forget this night and sleep for a new day."

"Mother did good!" Brunka then clamored, seemingly unable to contain herself. "They were all beating that male in the hall, trying to kill him and there were so many in front of us!  Too many, but Mother pushed and punched her way through them all." The little cub smiled, throwing her fist around her at invisible foes. "Then she yelled and everyone stopped what they were doing.  All because of her!  All because she told them to!  She saved him and-ah!"

"Enough, little one!" Akuna told her child, pulling at one of the cub's ears. "I'm tired and I need sleep after this ruined night." Rupland released her and limped back onto the mattress as his mate and child fumbled to get under the sheets.

Both Rupland and Brunka held their matriarch dearly as they slept, their warmth mixing with Akuna's while the night persisted and then transpired.

Had I looked this grievous after my quarrel with the southern tramps, Rupland thought as he looked down at a sleeping Cagost. Half his face was wrapped in bandages soiled pink and red. The rest of his face, muzzle, cheek, and brow, was decorated with cuts and swelling. A few gashes had been stitched closed, while others were simply coated with mending gel.

His body showed more painful wounds. Bandages crisscrossed his bicep, his neck, around his stomach and thighs. His left forearm and leg laid in splints. Several of his toes and fingers seemed to have been broken as well, even his tail. Each was wrapped tightly in gauze, lessening their mobility to heal. The boy had lost a number of claws from his fingers and toes in his attempts to defend himself last night.

Rupland hissed in disgust, but was glad to see the boy was still breathing, moaning minutely in his sleep.

"He wept all night," the aged healer said from his chair at the far side of the room. "Gave him a cup of sleeping elixir to keep him quiet so I could sleep." He sucked from his pipe, puffing gingerly as smoke rose lazily to the ceiling. The act reminded Rupland of Kusno and his fondness of smoking leaves.

"Has he been like this all day?" Rupland asked, looking down at the young, half-hidden face.

"He struggles from time to time, acting like he's still in the hall, fighting for some female's wet hole." A cough rang through the healer's throat, smoke puffing between his teeth. "They beat the wits out of him it seems.  Perhaps he will recollect them on the morrow or the next.  Can't tell actually.  I can mend cuts, but I can't mend senses."

Rupland gained a smile from that. "I don't think he had much to begin with," he said, hoping Cagost couldn't hear him.

He left after giving a thanks to the healer and a pray of quick recovery to Cagost, but before he could even start down the first series of stairs, he encountered a face he did not expect to see.

"Captain Akzla," Rupland greeted, bowing his head slightly.

"Rupland," the female said, frowning with a look of embarrassment. "Did you...see him?"

"Aye.  He is hurt and bloodied, but alive."

"I can guess you heard of what happened last night..." She didn't look at him, turning her eyes downward.

"I knew what was to happen beforehand," he told her, mirroring her frown.

"You knew?" She looked up, her eyes now showing surprise and confusion.

"I had found him in the gardens, training, and he told me.  I tried my best to convince him otherwise, but he dearly wanted to prove himself to..."

"He proved himself a fool is what he did," Akzla said with disdain. "He should have known better.  He couldn't have won.  Is he awake now?  Is he ready to feel the shame I felt seeing him beaten on my account?"

The searing rage was plain on her face, Rupland could see. He was taken aback by it. "He's still asleep, so it will have to wait.  I agree he is a fool and he deserves the shame, but you should know that was not his intent."

"I know it wasn't!" she interjected. "He did it for my hand and heart.  Gods help him, like in a lover's song!  Only lack-witted cubs believe in such things."

"Even so, did he show his love for you, like he said he would?"

"The only thing that imbecile showed me was that Vosgoloma is a scoundrel.  I pleaded him to stop, but he went on and on, hoping to kill the male instead of simply scolding him.  I'm sure Cagost will feel proud knowing I've abandoned him."

"Let's hope he doesn't have the sense to gloat."

"Yes, like your mate is surely gloating now." Her words rushed out with bitterness, but she caught herself before anymore could be said. "No...no, I should not have said that.  No." She looked away from him, shame entering her gaze. "She saved him...even after what we said about her...about....If I was not there, I would not believe the stories.  She deserves her rank.  But don't tell her I said that," her eyes returned to him. "Damn you if you do.  You know your mate, you know of her...arrogant nature."

"Yes, I certainly do," he laughed lightly. "I'll keep my voice quiet."

"You have my thanks, but now," she moved around him, approaching the healer's chambers. "I have a boy to brood over.  Mayhaps my presence will awake him from his deep slumber.  But before I go," she turned, looking at him. "You should be careful of these halls.  I warded off Vosgoloma, but I fear he's looking for your mate with a vendetta.  He might come for you too, if he is as great a scoundrel as I believe he is.  Tread carefully."

"I shall."

=
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She was in Era's map room again, but the only ones present this time were the Master Strategist and her. Sol, the apprentice, was elsewhere. Perhaps they were here to discuss matters not meant for his ears.

"If I must confess something to you, Akuna, then it is that I loathe these practices.  Speaking in secret, hiding ourselves in darkness to meet, all the while feeling like we are nothing more than children hunkering in a corner, whispering naughty tales to one another.  Do you feel the same?"

"I feel more alike to a fish on land," she told him. She looked at him boldly, finding her courage to ask. "Are all the members of the Brethren of Unity aware of Armsmaster Highlen's...new arsenal?"

"We are," he answered. "And it will be a key element in our war plans.  To be without them, would be a grave path to go.  You are against the idea?" His eyes watched her, pinpricks of burning bulb light caught in his slit pupils.

"Is it that easy to guess?" she asked, folding her arms over her chest, as usual.

"It's a common sentiment among our people.  We are Shigus, warriors of the north.  Our thick arms were made to crush bone with hammers and sever flesh with swords.  But for our southern counterparts and the nevreans and the agundars too, with their thin muscles and fragile bones, it is common for them to take the coward's approach to warfare.  They would rather kill you from a hilltop instead of meeting you in a charge.  It is their way of life.  And with this coming age, ours has become outdated."

Akuna become bewildered by his words. "What do you mean outdated?"

"A way of life is absolute.  It can make us prosper, or it can make us suffer.  If it is strong, it will sustain us.  If it is weak, it will lead us to annihilation.  Imagine a clan who arm themselves with only wooden clubs.  They disregard the need for better weaponry, finding only honor in the wood from their sacred trees grown on their sacred land.  This is their way of life, many would say.  But what if they were to come under siege, plundered and maimed by clans with bronze, silver, or steel in their hands?  What good is their honor now, their way of life?  If a people cannot survive, then they must change.  For Clan Shigu to persevere and find victory in this war, we must change ourselves.  Our ideas, especially those towards guns, must change.  This you must understand, First Captain."

Akuna shuffled uncomfortably where she stood, irritated. Is victory without honor truly a victory at all? "I understand," she lied, "but I pray no one expects me or my squads to foul their hands with those crackle-sticks."

"You are expected to do what the Grand General commands.  It is expected from all of us.  But, I wonder now, how will you react to the ways I aid the Brethren."

"Why would it matter?" Akuna asked.

"It bares warning," Era began. "Our ways must remain secret, no matter how severe you think they may be.  Keep these moments and words sealed and do not betray your clan because of something as unwieldy as your emotions.  The path of glory is not kind to those with uncertain loyalty."

"My loyalty is as solid as this keep," Akuna spoke with confidence, "and I keep these moments and words as quiet as a hair's whisper."

Era did not show any indication if he was pleased with Akuna's guarantee, but nevertheless, his hands went to work. He took possession of the long cane, using it's hooked end to push and move the little flags and rings and diamonds here and there across the map of the Sailzane landscape.

"Here were are again, looking down upon the southern lands with the eyes of the gods'.  Our brothers and sisters await in the sands while the southerners ignore our presence as best as they can.  Does it bear repeating where our settlements lay and how large they remain?" he asked, looking from the map to Akuna.

"No, I still remember," she answered, looking to Gold Ring, to Rellon, to Wevren, to Sako, Nel'am, Vinn, Eroca, Vist'om, Gozo, and all the others, recollecting how vast their numbers were.

"Good," Era said, turning back to the map. "And you certainly know of our circumstances.  The war is at a standstill and neither north nor south will press for attack.  We owe our reluctance to our General's last order.  The southerners do not act because they are either plotting or they fear another war with us.

"So what are we to do?  Our people are wary of war.  What is needed to spark our rage?  To fan the fires of our bloodlust?  An attack upon us would no doubt enflame our troops to favor conflict anew, wouldn't you say?  But we know we can't rely on our southern cousins to take the first bite.  So what should we do, Akuna?" He waited for an answer.

A shrug of the shoulders was Akuna's response.

"Simple," Era said, opening a draw at his flank to find what was needed. Carefully, he placed five little red flags in front of himself, "we attack for them." One by one, he positioned the flags, each one neighboring a Shigu settlement. "Five settlements.  Hio, Siol, Vasas, Hemel, and Gos.  Weak defenses, small numbers, and poor conditions.  Each poised for slaughter, with little consequence to the clan as a whole if such a fate befell them."

Something dreadful grew in Akuna's stomach, but she remained silent as she listened to the Master Strategist's calm lecture.

"Amalio holds several southern bandit clans in his service.  They will attack Hio, Siol, and Hemel.  After killing every northerner, they will paint their shacks and huts with Clan Reono's glyph with the blood of the dead.  Am I making things clear, First Captain?"

Akuna nodded, feeling as if ice filled her throat, disabling her speech.

"But for Vasas and Gos," Era continued onward, his words cold, "it will be Highlen's troops that will hand their fate.  The riflemen will sit upon the nearby hills and shoot the settlers from there, picking them off.  The situation does not require the devastation of these settlements, but the more corpses, the greater effect."

She could feel herself tensing, but again, she was unable to say a word against these plans. Era went on.

"This is the Instigation.  News of the attacks will spread quick and it will enrage our people.  It will burn away their fear and they will seek retaliation.  Densen has already designed the leaflets we will spread throughout the Sailzane, calling for retribution for these attacks.  All the while, Highlen's men and Amalio's bandits will harass other settlements, even those consisting of the Northern Shield.  Nothing too damaging.  Just children or youth that stray too far from their homes.

Just children, he says. Just children. His voice was unconcerned, as if they were saplings not destined to weather the season.

"Of course, the southern chiefs will deny any involvement in these killings.  But to revive the war, southern blood must also be spilled.  Milkas and her assassins will bloody the high-ranked blond-furs, in hopes of enraging their own population.  Vicris and her fighters will slay their southern opponents for the vengeance of our fallen settlements.  If this all is done correctly, any voice of peace will be silenced by the war chant from both north and south."

Era looked away from the map and aimed his sights at Akuna. "Now, Akuna, tell me your disagreements with these plans, if you have any."

For a long moment, Akuna stood there beside the Master Strategist, her eyes wondering from him to the map table. Her lips parted, but her words remained unsaid. Was this a jest? She suspected such, praying this was some inane scheme the olden Shigu advisor had concocted in his nimble mind to test her loyalty to the Brethren.

"Are you mocking me, Era?" she asked firstly, looking at him with a stern gaze.

"Did I possess a mocking tone?"

"No," she answered. Your tone remained serene and icy throughout. "But I could be mistaken."

"This is no jest.  Vok tasked me with creating a plan to ignite the war once more.  I've weighed our circumstances, any alternatives that might be close at hand, looked at every other path, those less bloody, those more so, and this is the greater path that will lead us onward to victory." The Master Strategist waved a hand over the map, over the yellow sands, the little rings, and the little red flags, five sacrificial mounds. "I showed the Grand General and he saw too there was no other way, no other path.  It was like swallowing rocks, but he, like I, knew there was no better way.  And it was the same for every other in our enclave.  Like swallowing rocks.  A most difficult task, but they all accepted it like Vok had...eventually."

"Everyone?" Akuna interjected suddenly. "Even Vicris?"

"What makes you think she would be any different from the others?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. "We all might be different sorts of soldiers, but we are all Shigu.  We all aim to bring honor to our clan, to see it bloom in the blood of our fallen foes."

"Even in the blood of our comrades?" Akuna then asked, her voice heavy with accusation. "What honor is there in fighting the enemy under such false circumstances?  After provoking them with false attacks?"

"If those that settled in Hio, Siol, and all the others knew, they would celebrate for their purpose.  Better to die aiding your clan than to die worthless with your body brittle and broken by hunger and disease.  And why worry over the legitimacy of the attacks?  False or no, it will lead our brethren to overwhelming the Reonos and forever end this centuries-old conflict.  We will see General Rain's hope completed."

"And what if General Rain were here?" Akuna now asked, taking a step toward Era. "How would she view these...schemes?"

Era did not move from where he stood, firm and without fear. "If General Rain were here, we would have no need to make these schemes as you say.  Even so, if she knew of our...schemes, she would rejoice in our wily plans and give us her approval."

"I believe differently."

Era's eyes narrowed at the large female. "It does not matter what you believe, Akuna.  It does not matter what I believe.  Or what Vok believes.  We do what is required of us.  You're choking on the rocks, Akuna.  Talk to those who have swallowed theirs.  Vok.  Densen.  Vicris.  Whoever, but keep your mouth shut to those outside the Brethren.  Burden no one else with our duties."

A silence hung between Akuna and Era. The warrior female desired to talk further, to somehow understand Master Strategist's twisted reasoning for these "plans," but she didn't see such discussions ending well. Her anger wriggled inside her like a beast and her grip upon it would be threatened if she stayed any longer.

She turned swiftly, finding the exit. She didn't spare another word to Era and neither did he to her.

=
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How should I thank you, my mate? The question ran over and through Rupland's head, but he was far from a solid answer. Akuna had gone far and beyond what he had asked of her. Cagost's injuries and Akzla swallowing her pride had shown him that. On that night, he had believed Akuna would only spare a handful words towards Cagost to ward him away from the gathering hall, maybe even stuff a few insults in his ears. But to go as far as challenging the entire hall, full of her peers and superiors? Like Akzla had said, if Rupland had heard the tale from a stranger's mouth, he would be struck with disbelief.

What had sparked her outrage was another question he pondered. She had cursed the other guests, but he was not certain as to what caused her to risk her pride for the boy. Nevertheless, he was happy for her interference and needed to show his gratification.

Jewelry and the sort was out of the question, of course. Akuna never had an affinity towards necklaces or bracelets, whether they were decorated with rubies, emeralds, topaz, diamonds, or any other sparkling rock.

No, his mate was a fickle breed. She had a certain spice to her. She would rather be gifted with a weapon or armor. Perhaps a dagger, a new sword, spear, or an axe. Even then she did not like jewels, whether set in the blade or the hilt. She enjoyed fine craftsmanship. She liked her blades curved, long, single-edged, and with a bite as keen as an elder's wisdom.

He would scout the markets for a fine steel dagger, one that would make her salivate. He would need an escort. Perhaps Zulca would suffice. He would be sure to keep his intentions secret to surprise her as she did for him the previous night. He only hoped Akuna would permit him to leave the keep.

As these thoughts coursed through his mind, Rupland steadily descended down another stairwell. Each stair he took carefully, placing a hand upon the wall beside him, trying to take some weight off his crutch. One by one, lower and lower he went. Then came the shuffle of our footsteps behind him, claws clipping against the stones.

Looking back, Rupland saw a black-furred male approach. He moved closer to the wall so he would not hinder the male's path. He waited there, gaining his breath, noticing the male did not advert his eyes from him. Rupland suddenly became aware of the mad glare there. The chill of danger crept up his spine, accompanied with Akzla's warning.

With one hand holding his crutch and another plastered against the wall, there was little he could do to defend himself. He could have leapt forward in an attempt to run, but he would most surely trip and collapse against the stairs underneath. The male was at his back now, coming around his side. Rupland tensed as he saw the unknown's fist cock back. He looked away and felt the first punch land against his ribs. The back of his knee was hit and he was made to stoop. Next and most damaging was the blow that slammed his skull against the wall.

He toppled down, his crutch clattering beside him as he fell forward upon the stairs. He gave a mere grunt as he tried to find his footing, waiting for the next blow. A foot repeatedly kicked at the side of his belly, smashing his legs and feet, claws racking down his back. With the air knocked out of his lungs and the pain grower greater, Rupland gripped a stair further below him and tried pull himself forward. He knew it would not help him escape, but it was better than laying there like a legless beggar. A hand then grabbed his mane and pressed his chin down savagely against a stone stair.

"Weep if you must," a voice barked in his ear, spittle peppering his cheek, "but all I want is to hear your mate weep.  She is the reason I'm here, thrashing your worthless hide!  Tell her what happened here, tell her I'll break your fingers the next time I find you.  That is if she decides to finish what she started in the gathering hall last night.  Tell her!" Vosgoloma rose up then and paid one more swift kick to Rupland's throat before he descended down the rest of the stairwell. Through watery eyes, Rupland saw his crutch held in the captain's hand before he left sight.

Once his throat unclenched, Rupland's breath was rapid and the pain ran through him like blades. He laid there, motionless, hoping someone would come and help him. No sounds of approach came, only silence. Once some of the pain had subsided and his eyes stopped watering, he decided to try and lift his upper half up and did so without much resistance. He looked for his crutch but then remembered in dismay where it was. He attempted to stand, but once he put his weight upon his feet, the pain was too great to even limp. Rupland relented, sat and laid back upon the stairs, exacerbated.

Without the crutch, he knew he would not be able to walk straight, especially down a stairwell. He needed help. His next best action was to crawl down. With his arms behind him, he pushed himself forward, careful not to put much pressure on his legs. He progressed. Slowly. He placed his rump down on each step and went down to the next, feeling absolutely mortified.

He had feared Vosgoloma would be waiting for him on the lower landing, but the captain was no where to be seen, like everyone else. Clenching his teeth, Rupland dragged himself a bit further, hoping someone would come along. Before long, he heard the click of claws upon the floor. Louder and louder they became, coming from somewhere down another hall.

Forgetting his pride and stowing away his shame, he called out. "Help!" his voice rang up and down the hall. "Help!  Someone!"

The footsteps quickened and then appeared their owner around the corner. "Master Rupland!" Blax's shrill voice echoed toward him and a wave of relief came over the former soldier. The servant hurried over to him, carrying a bundle of clean clothes in his arms.

"What happened?" Blax inquired, placing the clothes down. "Did you fall?  Where is your crutch?  Did you break anything?"

"No, no, no," Rupland breathed out, sharply inhaling, his head hanging low. "It was that captain.  Vosgolma.  Vos...ga.  Vos-"

"Vosgoloma?" Blax corrected him. "He did this?  Why-well, don't answer that, I surely know the answer.  I saw the show your mate displayed."

Rupland lifted his hand and touched the side of his head. His finger came away moist and bloody. When Blax saw, he gasped.

"We need to see the healer," the servant said.

"No," Rupland shook his head and an ache ran through his skull. "I'm fine.  Just a little blood.  But...I do need another crutch.  That bastard took the one I had."

"A blessing we are so close his chambers.  Can you stand?"

"I can," Rupland said, moving about as Blax lent a shoulder to him, "but walking..." Even with Blax's help, he limped pitifully, but at least he would not trip across the stairs as they ascended. His new bruises burned and he tried to masked them with the rage aflame in his chest.

This would not go unpunished, he thought ruefully. Akuna's anger will excel with news of this event and she would no doubt skin that cowardly captain for injuring him further. Even so, he would love to complete the task himself. He found delight in imagining himself smashing the bastard's fingers into red mush, biting them off. Akuna would be greatly proud of him for obtaining his vengeance, but then came the thought of Brunka, and Rupland felt guilty for his wrath. There would be no pride in the child's eyes if she ever saw such a sight. But her-

"Brunka!" Rupland clamored, his voice echoing down the corridor. "My daughter.  She-find her." He looked to Blax and the servant displayed confusion. "You have to find her.  Vosgoloma could be looking for her."

"Where is she?" Blax asked in haste.

"I don't know," he said with dismay. "Out in the yards, perhaps.  Somewhere in the kitchens.  She said she goes there at times.  To hell with the healer, we have to find her." He tried to move forward on his own, but soon felt his left leg collapse from the pain. Blax immediately caught him and pulled him upright.

"You're no help if you're hurt like this," the steward told him with power in his little voice. "First, the healer.  Then I will take the task of finding your daughter.  If you are unaware of where your daughter is, then so is Vosgoloma.  Let's pray we find her first."

=
====================================================================

"Vicris is not here, First Captain," said the young soldier standing before his sparing squadmates. "She is at play at the Blood Pool.  I am Hunsen, I overlook her squad while she is away."

"Damnit!" Akuna hissed, irritated at the situation and the erratic noise of the training yard. "I need to see her.  Which one of you will serve as my escort?"

The young male Hunsen gave a bewildered expression. "Escort?"

"Yes, escort!" she sneered. "I need someone that knows how to get to the Blood Pool.  I need to see her."

"I can give you directions, First Captain..."

"To hell with that!  I need an escort!"

Hunsen studied Akuna's face and then turned towards his squadmates. "Veyney!"

A young female paced forward and stood at attention as if Hunsen were her true captain instead of a stand-in.

"Do you know the way to the Blood Pool?" he asked.

"Yes, sir!" barked out this Veyney.

"Escort the Captain's friend.  Teach her the roads too, if you will," Hunsen said before they were off, exiting the inner yards and into the cooler innards of the keep. After a number of twists and turns and a stroll through the Naralus's' gates and battlements, they swiftly entered the city's streets.

As usual, the throngs was thick and loud with commerce, but Veyney made sure to provide a path for the First Captain as they made their way around rolling merchant carts, clusters of buyers, and sprinting cubs. There was the aroma of cooking foods upon the air, each scent tickling Akuna's nose. She realized how hungry she was, but she felt there was no time to consider a meal. A belly full of nervous twitters would have to do for the time being, she decided.

"If I might encroach, First Captain" Veyney began as Akuna walked closely in her wake, "what might you be seeking Vicris for?  Does the Grand General require her?"

"What business I have with Vicris is my own," Akuna growled at the younger soldier, her irritation growing. "You're not here to ask me questions, you're only here to lead me."

"Shall I tell you the roads?" she waved a hand over the street before them. "So you'll be more aware of your directions next time?"

"I'll learn by sight.  Just find me the Blood Pool."

"Yes, ma'am," Veyney said and grew silent as they carried onward through Wevren's congested roads.

It was taking longer than Akuna had anticipated. Last time, she had been brought by carriage, along with her cub, mate, and High Officer Zulca. The ride had not be as long or as tiring, and now she could feel her heart pumping away in her chest. Not with rage and fear like it had been before, but only with use.

She was beginning to question the girl's sense of navigation when the high rock and oak walls of the Blood Pool came into sight. People were gathering, shoulder-to-shoulder as they flowed into the coliseum. Coin-takers were at the entrances, taking their fee from each and every patron that desired a midday show of blood and battle prowess.

"It's seven coppers for each," Veyney said, looking at Akuna as if she were going to pay for both of them.

"Where are the fighters?" she asked. "Take me to where they prepare before their bouts."

Veyney did so, leading her around to another side of the Blood Pool's outer wall. They came to a wide, arching entrance, like a great, ribbed cavern. There were few people here, no one to hinder their path. Akuna entered and Veyney followed.

The far-end exited out into the pit of the arena, where the cheers of the crowd rang hollowly through the hall. On either side of Akuna were many doors, some unattended, others guarded by burly northerners. They sifted through admirers of both sexes, each hoping to give their favorite fighter their favor.

"I believe that is Vicris's door," Veyney pointed. A larger sort of bouncer waited before the door she designated, watching them as they came up. There was muted laughter beyond the door she stood before.

"What do you want?" asked the big female, leering at the two. She was larger than Akuna, her arms coiled with heavy muscles. Perhaps during the campaign, her hands held a hammer or longsword.

"I'm here to see Vicris," Akuna said, straightening her back and putting out her chest to show she felt no intimidation towards bouncer's size.

The larger female gave a smile, full of condescension. "Sorry, but Vicris has a fancy for cocks, not cunts."

"I'm not here for that, yo-"  Suddenly, there was a hand on her arm, pushing her aside.

"I am Veyney Alakeys, a member of Vicris' squad," the young solider told the door guard. "We have need to speak with her, but only for moment." Despite her size and her youth, the soldier's words were calm but forceful, and by the bouncers's expression, it seemed to have aided their plight.

The burly female turned, gripped the latch, and opened the door a crack. "Madam Vicris," she called.

"What?" came the High Captain's voice.

"I have two here, females.  One tells me she's from your squad.  What would you have me do?"

"What's her name?"

"It's Veyney, High Captain!" Veyney called out, earning a stern look from the guard.

"Open the door, let me see," the pit fighter demanded and it was made so. Inside, the room was hazy with smoke from bowls of incense and smoldering pipes.

"Akuna?" Vicris said with perplexity, narrowing her eyes. The captain was seated on a couch of rosy cushions, two males on each side of her. "Come in, come in," she waved, and the bouncer moved aside.

Akuna coughed as her nose took in a full whiff of the incense. It was a flowery scent, but one that felt like it was clogging her nostrils. She tried to fan the smell away from her face, but it helped little.

"What reason might you be here for?  Of high importance, I can guess," Vicris smiled with a joking tone.

"I have a need to speak with you," Akuna said, heavy with purpose.

"Then go on, speak with me." Vicris took a drag from her pipe, blowing smoke through her nose. "Sit, take a male, they're stiff and ready."

Indeed, they were, Akuna could see. All four of the males were undressed, their lower parts shown without shame. Each presented their cock, pink and peeking from their sheaths. They were young lads, thin and small, with a good portion of muscle upon their arms and legs.

"Go on, Akuna.  Have at one.  Give a lick or take a lick.  They are good little soldiers, so they will follow your command.  What happens here will not leave this room." Vicris showed a playful smirk, kneading the hip of one male beside her.

Akuna was not detoured, even with such an awfully tempting offer. Her sense of loyalty and honor would not allow her to betray Rupland.

"I need to speak to you alone," she said with Veyney beside her, no doubt staring at the males and their throbbing members.

"Didn't you hear me?  Nothing will leave this room, whether it's a word or act-"

"Alone!" Akuna spat, watching as everyone's ears twitched at her volume. "Go!  Now!  Be gone!  Out!"

Only at Vicris' request, did the males move. "A moment's respite, my cuts of meat," she said. "Only a moment, don't go anywhere.  You too, Veyney.  I can see my friend is not jesting."

"Is she causing you trouble, Madam Vicris?" asked the big female outside as the males hid their arousal with their kilts and headed out the door with Veyney.

"No trouble at all," the pit fighter answered. "A moment is all we need." Once the door was shut, Akuna could finally face Vicris alone.

"They wouldn't have charged me a copper more if you had enjoyed yourself," Vicris was saying, taking another pull from her pipe. "Mayhaps they will charge me a third more for your interruption.  Think you can cover the cost?"

"To hell with the cost," Akuna spat at her, standing firmly on her feet while Vicris continued to lounge ideally on her cushions. "I've come with more dire concerns than getting your cunt rammed by four cocks."

"Actually, they can only fit two cocks in there, but it leaves me hellishly sore afterwards." She laughed, which only fed Akuna's frustration.

"Shut it!" she shouted, her hands turning into tight fists. "Listen!" Vicris was quiet now, her smile gone. "I spoke with the Master Strategist," Akuna began, walking closer to her comrade. "He told me...many things, things I am unwilling to believe." She spoke only in whispers.

"Am I to guess what he told you or are you going to spit it out already?" the pit fighter sneered, grabbing a cup of ale to drink.

"The Instigation," she whispered as low as she could. "The...attacks," she tried to say, but the words caught in her throat. She dare not speak freely of the secrets she was told.

Even though she had spoken so few words, Vicris looked to fully understand. Her eyes grew full of gloom, turning her cup upright to down the rest of her ale. "What of it?"

"He told me to speak with you.  With the others, find out how they had swallowed their rocks."

"Rocks, eh?  Is that how he says it now?" She gave a humorous huff, looking down at the dark emptiness of her cup. "More like swallowing boulders."

"So you too had trouble accepting this...disgrace he is trying to bring down upon our heads?"

"Accepting?" she looked up at Akuna with a little smile. "More like I'm still trying to believe it at all."

"You believe Era is playing us false?"

"Oh, he's playing us true, don't you be mistaken.  It's all a matter of if they'll actually see it through. Perhaps they will, perhaps they won't.  Who can say?" The pit fighter shrugged. "Perhaps Era is testing our loyalty.  Bluffing us to see how far we will go to regain our clan's former glory."

"So what am I to do?" Akuna asked, fear bubbling in her belly.

"Forget what was said," Vicris answered, clear and calm. "The more you think on it, the more it will bite at you, gnaw at your hide until it reaches your bones.  Do you know anyone from the settlements named?"

"No."

"Then what does it matter to you?  Vok is not asking you or me to strike at our comrades.  Amalio and Highlen have that privilege."

"And watch the war come again under false claims, declared in the blood of our brethren?"

"The cost of a great war is a great price," Vicris told her, blowing smoke through her lips. "Perhaps it was just as difficult for Vok to swallow what Era had provided him.  No other way, he says.  Perhaps so, perhaps not.  Perhaps he or one of us will find a better solution to invigorating the war.  Perhaps the southerners will grow a tail and actually attack us first and we won't need this ruse."

"Perhaps, perhaps, perhaps," Akuna snarled, as if the word pained her so. "We cannot gamble the honor of our clan upon a perhaps." What of the Supreme Captain and those below her? She wanted to ask the question now, but it would have to wait. She didn't think Vicris would have the answer she needed.

"Why does it matter if these tiny settlements live or die?"

"The blood will be on our hands," she sneered in a hushed voice, the words straining in her throat. "No matter what lie we tell, it will remain there!"

"There is small consequence if these few die," Vicris told her, smiling as if the subject was a light and careless one. "Those that cannot fight, that cannot strengthen the clan, are to be tossed away, if not exiled.  These settlements are full of the weak, the diseased, and the lazy.  You must know someone of either affliction, my friend, and know how it is our duty to vanquish these malcontents."

Akuna surely knew of a few she could name:  The Tapacik family for one. The lazy bastards, she recalled, never pulling their own weight, never assisting the efforts of the settlement. She could name those few, but it didn't make the Instigation any easier to accept.

"Malcontents or not," Akuna began to say, "this is not the path Rain wanted us to go down.  She would despair at Era's plans."

"Go back to the Naralus, Akuna," Vicris told her. "Go to your room, drink, eat, sleep, do what you must to settle your mind.  But don't linger too long.  We have business tonight."

"Tonight?"

"Tonight.  Find the study in the east wing.  Milkas will find you.  Just like the first time."

"What is to be discussed?"

"You, your induction, a handful of other things.  You can voice your quarrels there, with Vok himself to listen."

I will gladly, Akuna wanted to say, but she decided to hold back her words. With a growl, she turned her back to her comrade and exited out into the cavernous hallway...

To find two of Vicris' male whores on their knees and suckling at Veyney's slit. The young soldier's legs quivered under her as two tongues slipped in and out between her wet walls. Her hands stroked their heads, claws tangling in their manes.

"Enough of that!" Akuna yelled, clapping her hands together loudly. The two males ceased their licking and got to their feet. "Let's go."

"No desire to watch?" Veyney asked, patting down her skit to hide her sex.

"Why would anyone want to watch two males nipping at your crouch meat?"

"I meant the fights." Veyney half-smirked, looking where the hall exited out into the fighter's pit. Another bout was currently ensuing:  A female rounded a four-legged scaled beast twice her size. When the animal snapped it's neck forward for a bite, tiny daggers for teeth lined it's maw.

"No, we're going now." She pointed a claw and reluctantly, Veyney obeyed.

"Couldn't you have stayed in there a bit longer?" the young soldier asked as they weaved through the afternoon crowds once more. "I was nearly finished." She looked back and saw Akuna's stern and silent expression. The youth turned back and sighed longingly.

=
====================================================================

"What do you think the rodents think of us?" The musing came from Hubus, again thinking aloud with the rest of the cubs in earshot.

"What in the hells are you talking about, Hubus?" asked Misla, the wind blowing her curly, black locks about her head.

"The rodents," the older male turned to her, looking to still be lost in thought. "Do you think we're just big monsters to them?  Like...the keep is their home and our rooms and halls are big caves to them.  And they have their own halls and room in the walls, like their own keep."

"Do they have their own little gatherings too?" Kare smiled a jesting smile at Hubus. "With little feasts of cheese and meat?  Do they dance in their little holes too?"

"Maybe they do," Hubus said with a seriousness.

Kare and the other cubs clattered with laughter, their chuckles bouncing off the walls and wards of the Narulus.

"Hubus, you're a shithead," Kare giggled. "Rodents don't think.  All they do is eat, shit, and fuck in their little cracks in the wall."

"Perhaps they can think," Brunka spoke up then, her friends turning to her. "They're just not smart."

"Like you?" teased Kare.

"No," Brunka answered, "like your father." She grinned and Kare bared his teeth in anger. But he remained seated, lest he gain more humiliation with another trouncing from her. Brunka would not enjoy it, but she would if she were challenged. "Some can think.  They can hide, they can run.  Some are just dumb enough to take the bait."

"Which is good for us," smiled Cel, "the monsters."

"I do like coppers," Hubus could not disagree.

"Then let's go find some more," Kare said as he got to his feet and beckoned his friends off the rooftop in anticipation for the hunt.

Rodents were in meager numbers today, Brunka noticed. Kare, along with Hubus, had caught only one black beast. Susmoo noticed too, relenting only two coppers.

"They're growing wiser to you cubs," smiled the cook as he waved a finger. "They listen to your footsteps now and they know which places you catch their friends."

"See!" Hubus spoke up. "They can think!"

"Shut up!" Kare told him.

"Of course they can think!" Susmoo laughed, his big belly ajiggle. "They know which floor is most quiet and which is most noisy.  They know when to scurry and when to hide.  Best rethink the way you hunt, children.  Otherwise, I get to keep all my coppers for myself."

Brunka couldn't care less for how many coppers she got that day or the next. As long as she received a cup treat, which they all did today, she was happy. Once out of the kitchens, they ran through floors of stone to find the black hairy beasts living inside the walls, but the vermin remained elusive. Not one was caught all afternoon and Brunka soon became just as frustrated as the older cubs.

"To hell with this!" Kare yelled out, his voice echoing down the hall. "I give up!"

"Not only can they think," giggled Cel as he nudged Kare, "but they can outthink you."

Kare responded with a hefty punch to Cel's arm. "If they can outthink me, then they can outthink you all too!"

"If we're not rat-hunting, then what are we going to do?" asked Hubus, obviously tired.

"We're still hunting!" Kare barked. "We just need to find the right floor."

"But you said-"

"Shut up!  I take back what I said."

"I'm bored," Misla whined. "We haven't found one since this morning.  We probably killed them all already."

"There's more.  Hundreds more.  Can't you hear them scratching at the walls at night?  I can.  It wakes me up when they do that.  Come on.  We'll go deeper.  Very deep."

And deep they went. At first, Brunka believed Kare had meant the first floor, but the gaggle of cubs went further than that. A basement, Brunka thought and then she remembered. The Narulus was built over a canyon, so there must be a handful of floors below it. Basement floors, but ones less wet and dark Brunka had imagined. They were well occupied too, with their own guards and guests walking through their halls, light provided by both torch and magic-fire bulb.

Despite their efforts, they could find no prey down in these depths neither. They ran to and fro, from hall to hall, room to room, searching every hole they could find, but no black beasts were present.

"Good plan, captain," Misla sneered at Kare.

"Shut it, runt of the bunch," Kare sneered back.

The boy and girl went back and forth arguing, but Brunka attention was drawn more towards the wedges of light streaming from the slits in the wall to her right. Peering through the slit, her little gray orbs squinted at sunlight and a desert sky as blue as her doll's pelt. While her friends lead themselves down the hall, she looked along the wall and found a door with light outlining it's edges. Opening it, she was greeted with a blast of hot air, sunlight on her face, and the smell of water in her nose.

"Brunka?" a distant voice asked. Down the hall, her friends stopped and stared at her. "What is it?" Misla asked.

"Aren't you tired of cold stones?" she asked the other cubs. "Come on, feel the sun on your fur." She went through the door and came onto a balcony. A wide, stone one that hovered far above the canyon floor. Kare, Misla, Cel, and Hubus were soon with her, walking along the balcony.

"It's too damn hot out here," Cel complained, but Brunka ignored him.

Looking over the ledge, she was astounded at the height they were at. The river below stretched out into the distance, a blue and brown trail flowing through the canyon before it turned and became obscured by a rock wall. She and the other cubs bunched together to look down upon the docks below and the little boats coming into the harbor from the river.

"I'll give you all my coppers if you jump into the river from here," Kare smiled at Brunka.

"Mine too!" Cel grinned too.

"I would rather climb those," she said, pointing to the rope bridges that linked the little huts attached to the canyon wall.

Brunka imagined herself living there along the rock wall with nothing but air between her and the ground. She would climbed from hut to hut, over their rickety bridges, up and down their ropes and ladders, dangling freely in the breeze. Once, they had been nevrean homes, built by nevrean hands, those unafraid of the heights they were at. Brunka thought herself fearless too, but even upon this balcony of solid stone, she could feel her stomach twist anxiously.

"Who's that?" Cel asked, looking away from the ledge. Turning to see, Brunka saw they were not alone. Someone had exited onto the far-end of the balcony. He paid no glance to the view, only watching them. He walked closer. Brunka regarded him strangely, but there was nothing particular about the male. Black-fur and gray breeches. Even so, as he came within an arm's length of them, she felt an edge of uneasiness enter her.

He was older than all of them, bigger too. She could see scars on his arms and belly, where fur no longer grew. He is like my father, she thought. A soldier. She did not enjoy the way he looked down at her, with the same gaze they must have all worn when they happened up a fat rodent.

"What are you looking at?" asked Misla, and the male merely answered with a huff.

"You are Brunka, are you not?" the male asked, staring at her.

"Yes..." the cub answered. "Who are you?"

"No matter about my name," the male smiled. "Your father wanted me to tell you something."

Her tail shivered behind her head. "What?"

"He's down there on the docks," his hand motioned towards the edge of the balcony. "He wants to know if you can see him."

Shuffling nervously on her feet, Brunka just stared at the male, not sure how to respond. She then felt a hand upon her shoulder, a muzzle near her ear.

"I don't like him, Brunka.  He doesn't look kind," Misla said in little more than a whisper.

"Well? He's waiting for you," the male told her. "Go ahead.  Look and you will see."

Without a word, Brunka turned towards the edge of the balcony, placing herself between two merlons. She looked down and saw the network of wooden planks that was the harbor and the meager boats at anchor. She watched the dock workers at their duties, tying boats to poles, unloading cargo. She even spotted those fishing.

"Do you see him?" the male asked at her back.

"No," Brunka said uncertainly. Her eyes went over the docks again, but the people down below looked so small, it was hard to tell one from the other.

"He's down there.  Look closer.  Here, I'll help."

The male's hands were under her armpits now and she felt her feet leave the ground. "So light," he giggled. Brunka's hands grabbed after the merlons at either side of her as she felt him press her over the ledge, her legs kicking helplessly under her. "Careful now!  Don't want me to drop you, do you?"

She continued to resist, shaking as she pressed back against his strength. For a brief moment, she felt him relent, pulling her away from the ledge. He lowered her and she could feel the pads of her feet touch stone.

"He's there," the male said, Brunka turning to look at him over her shoulder. She thought she could see a smile faintly on his lips. She then looked to her friends, praying one would have the bravery to save her. But all four of them stood still, as if petrified to approach the male. "I saw him there.  Let's try again." His hands lifted her again, but not under her arms this time. One grabbed the scruff of her neck and the other around her tail, hoisting her up and over the balcony's ledge.

"Stop!  No!  Please!" she voiced in fright, her scream echoing down to the docks. Her hands had no time to grab after the merlons. Now, they frantically attempted to clutch at the outer edge of the balcony, trying to find something to hold onto. She could hear the male laugh as he held her there, dangling above the hard ground. The male's grip remained strong around her neck and tail, chocking and paining her.

"Do you see him?  Do you see him?" the male barked out, pushing her closer over the edge. She heard a little voice give protest and the male quickly snarled at whomever had the gall to defy him. "Keep away, you bloody brats!" he yelled. "Any closer and I could drop her!  Do you see him?"

"N-no!  I-I-I don't!  Please...stop!" She was quaking with fear, her heart jumping inside her throat as her teeth clattered together.

"Shame, then.  If I dropped you, do you think your mother would weep?"

She remained silent, unsure if that was truly a question that needed to be answered.

"I know your father wept," the male continued. "He wept when I smashed him good, breaking his little bones against my fists.  The crippled bastard.  But all I want is for your mother to weep.  I want to hear her cry.  I want to taste her tears.  You tell her what I said, what I di-"  His voice ceased, holding her there to linger before the plunge. Then came another voice, distant and shrill.

"VOSGOLOMA!" At such a volume, it sounded as if the voice could carrying itself from here and all the back to Rellon. A silence came over the place, as if the entire canyon was put into a hush. Then came the voice again, strained with rage. "Don't you dare!  Don't you DARE drop her!  Put her down.  Now!"

Immediately, Brunka was pulled back from the brink and stumbled on the balcony floor, the male's hands holding her tightly. Down the balcony stood Blax, rage plastered across his face with his fur bristling. Tall and armored beside him was a keep guard, his hand enclosed around the hilt of his sheathed sword. Suddenly and defiantly, Brunka wretched free from her attacker's grasp and ran towards the safety of Blax and his guard. Instinctively, her arms wrapped around the steward's waist, her head burying into his stomach. Her body shook furiously as she began to cry.

"I was only helping the child!" she heard the male explain. When she turned and looked at him, watching the rage take over his face, she remembered. He was the male from last night, the one that had pummeled that boy in the gathering hall, the one that mother had yelled at and spit on. Vosgoloma.

"She nearly fell off," Vosgoloma said. "She should be thanking me, I just saved her hide."

"I saw you, Vosgoloma!  They saw you!" Blax sneered, pointing a claw at the frightened group of cubs behind the captain. "You were holding her over.  Damn you to the dark hells of the other life if you've hurt her like you did to her father!"

"Am I being accused of something, servant?" Vosgoloma growled. "I don't know her father."

"But you know her mother.  You had intent to harm the child-"

"You can't say that!  You can't say what my intent was!  I was helping the cub and you dare say I was trying to harm her?"

"You were trying to kill her!" a small voice, Misla's voice, called out. Vosgoloma turned and growled at the cubs and they retreated back a step.

"Your intent was as clear as the morning sky, Captain," Blax said, holding Brunka close to him. The guard at his flank shuffled on his feet, his armor clacking together. "You will come with us, seeing as you cannot be trusted within these grounds."

Vosgoloma gave a whooping holler at that, his laughter carrying itself throughout the canyon. "And who are you to tell me what I will do?  You are nothing more than a steward!  You have no say where I may go and what I may do."

"Under Grand General Vok's authority, I am to make certain the keep is kept at peace.  If I see someone that would threatened that peace, I have the authority to have them restrained."

"I shit on your authority.  Have the Grand General himself see me if you think I have done some wrong." He swiftly put his back to them and began to walk away, but Blax was just as quick.

"Catch him, Kran!" he said and the guard immediately homed in on the captain. Vosgoloma turned as the guard approached. When Kran was at his back, he swiped his fist at the side of guard's head. The guard stumbled back and slumped against the wall. Vosgoloma assailed the guard with his fists as his feet kicked and slashed at the guard's legs. Brunka heard Blax scream something and saw her friends step back from the brawl. Then, as quick as it had began, Kran finished it. He grabbed the captain by the hide of his neck and slammed his helmeted head against Vosgoloma's nose. Vosgoloma stopped, dazed, and Kran head-butted him again, harder. The captain's limbs slacked and he collapsed against the floor of the balcony, blood flowing from his nostrils.

Kran paid two kicks to Vosgoloma's ribs before Blax told him to stop. "Stuff him in a cell in the lower wards," the servant said. "Make certain he's alive and breathing when you leave him there."

"Will the Grand General mind if I leave him with a few missing teeth?" Kran asked, showing a wide smile. "Perhaps a few broken fingers."

"I suppose he won't," answered Blax, holding Brunka close to him. "Just make sure he stays put in his new chambers."

The guard gave nod, bent down to pick up Vosgoloma by the wrists, and dragged him slowly off the balcony. After Vosgoloma was moved out of sight, Kare and the other cubs approached Brunka and Blax with small, weary steps.

Brunka tried to wipe tears away, but the fur under her eyes would not dry. She paid her friends a glance, her shame most evident, but she didn't have the courage to talk.

"Come, your father is worried and waiting," Blax said, before either of the youths could speak. She parted ways with the servant, keeping close to his hip.

Blax clutched Brunka's hand as they hurried along through the keep, passing guests and guards that gave them curious glances. Brunka's belly ached, feeling as if it were filled with angry bugs. She was still heavy with fear, but she tried to keep her tears from being seen.

"Your father is on the other side of the keep," Blax told her, his voice as sure as his sense of direction. "I'll have you wait in your room while I retrieve him.  Will you feel safe there?"

There was shame in admitting her fear. Her clan was one of brave warriors, those that knew no terror. Her mother had told her many times over that cowards had no place in Clan Shigu and no right to live. Trying desperately to forget her fear, she nodded in response to the servant's question and held on tightly to his hand.

After a journey through walls and floors, halls and doors, they arrived at her chambers. When Brunka entered, her dread compounded when she met the cool silence inside. There was only the bed, the chest filled with their clothes, and the pile of her mother's armor in the far corner. No Vosgoloma waiting in a dark corner to hurt her. She was happy for that.

"I'll fetch your father as quick as I can," said Blax, watching the girl hesitantly enter her room. "You need not worry of Vosgoloma again," he tried to reassure her. "He's locked away in a cold, black cell deep down below.  He won't hurt you again.  Stay here and rest your worries, child.  I'll return quickly."

He turned and the door closed loudly behind him, leaving Brunka in the chilly dark silence of her chambers. But she was not alone, she felt, having found Joos. She hugged the doll close to her chest as she sat on the bed, but did not speak to her little friend like she had before. Instead, she listened for any noise beyond her door, her stomach stirring at the slightest sound. Footsteps and voices came, some close, others distant. But no one dared scratch at her door, or open it. Shivering with fear, holding her doll tightly, she was grateful for that.

Then came a sound, many sounds in fact. Footsteps, the clicking of claws against stone, grunting and something else. A tapping, slow in pace. Tap. It came again. Tap, tap, tap. When the door suddenly opened, it gave her a scare.

Another tap sounded as her father walked into their chambers, supporting himself up with his crutch. Brunka jumped up off the bed, still holding Joos, and latched onto him with a desperate grip. Her eyes filled with tears and she knew her father would not shame her for crying.

"I don't like it here anymore," she sobbed. She felt her father stroke the top of her head and along her ears.

"No more tears," he whispered to her. "No more tears, my little one, it will be fine.  He's gone, the bastard is gone."

To Brunka's ears, her father's voice was calm, a grown sergal's voice. Always so sure, so calm, so certain. She felt her anxiety melt away. Her tears subsided, but she stayed close to her father, parting only to let Blax help him lay down against the mattress. Brunka seated herself next to him, hugging his neck. When she looked to her father's face, she suddenly noticed he had gained another bandage, one plastered on his skull near his ear. Her father saw her wandering eyes and smiled.

"Nothing to worry over," he told her, touching the bandage with his fingers. "Just a tear."

"Vosgoloma should not trouble you any longer," Blax told them, standing still at Rupland's bedside. "No doubt his wrath was sparked by your mate's interference last night.  I applaud her actions, seeing as it saved one poor boy's life.  I have no doubt you both will tell her what happened today.  Your wounds, Master Rupland, will certainly speak before you can."

"Yes, I suppose they will," Brunka's father gave a crocked smile towards Blax, whom then gave a mournful sign.

"I would rather this entire matter fade into silence, knowing your mate's...wrath.  Can this humble steward plead you to tell her softly, lest the guards bear the brunt of her anger?"

"I will try," her father said, no longer smiling, "but forgive us if she breaks down the door when she learns.  What is to happen to Vosgoloma?" Her father focused on the servant, watching his face closely.

"He is to be expelled from the keep," Blax answered, his words blunt, "due to his riotous actions towards you and other guests.  The previous night would have been evidence enough to send him back to the hole he crawled out from, but after today, he will surely never be welcomed back in these halls."

"Will we be safe?  I do not ask in cowardice, but look at me." Rupland waved a hand over himself, at the bandages around his torso and leg, the bruises and cuts on his stomach and thigh. "How am I to defend my daughter if he comes looking again?"

"I will see that he is not given the chance," the servant said with no uncertainty in his voice. "For that matter, Vok ensures your safety.  Lady Akuna is a great friend to him and will consider his intrusion upon you and your daughter as a great offense.  Do not fret, Vosgoloma is nothing than a beast in a cage chained to a wall."

"Or a rat in a hole," added Brunka.

"Aye, that's one way of looking at it," Blax said, smiling.

Without another word, Blax left. Only then, with daughter and father alone, did Brunka allow herself to cry without restraint. Her father held her dearly close, feeling her tears seep into the fur of his chest.