G. Howell, page 43
They were staring at Rehr when I finished.
“You expect us to believe this?!” It was that Sathe with the grey tufted ears. He was glaring at me. “This … You would believe something like … like THAT?!”
“So you do not deny having warriors in our Realm,” Rehr replied.
“I do deny it!” the other spat. “I would say that if the Eastern Realm cannot handle bandits within its borders, then that is none of our concern. However, the fact that our lands and trade routes are threatened by your inability to deal with your own internal affairs compels us to act.”
His ears rose with his spirits as he felt that he was taking control of the situation. “The Gulf Realm is willing to send warriors to aid the Eastern Realm in ridding themselves of this … bandit problem.”
Four … No, five of them. Ambassadors from the other Realms. Judging from what he had said, Tufted Ears would be from the Gulf Realm. The others would be from the three other Realms: Open Realm, and the alliance of the Lake Traders.
Rehr bared his teeth slightly. “My lords,” he addressed the other three Sathe at the table. “Do you really believe that the Gulf Realm would send troops to HELP us? I doubt that very much. I am sure that you all remember that Daycross River incident in the Open Realm.”
That didn’t mean anything to me, but it obviously did to the other Sathe. The one with a very light fawn pelt sitting opposite Tufted Ears fleered his lips back in a grin. I took a stab in the dark: that was the emissary from the Open Realm.
“Lord Samth,” Rehr said to the Gulf emissary, “you deny having warriors in the Eastern Realm?”
“Most vehemently.”
“Then would you please explain this.”
On some signal that I didn’t catch, the door opened and with a rattling of manacles, several prisoners were led in, still in their red and black armour; officers who had been captured. They were all battered, bloodied, and tired. They saw me, then the Sathe gathered around the table and they sagged, as if something inside them had died.
Rehr grinned at the emissaries. “You recognise them? Good. Honoured ones, you may ask them questions. They will answer. K’hy, thank you.” ******
Rehr was alone in the conference room when I returned. It was dark outside, the only light coming from a dim lantern on the paper-littered obsidian table top. He had his head buried in his hands.
“Sir?” I ventured uneasily. I felt like I was intruding on something. “They said you wanted to see me about something else.”
He looked up at me waiting for him and sighed. “Ah, K’hy … I am getting old and tired … Please, sit down.” He gave me a wan smile; the barest twitch of his ears. “Yes, I have some news that may interest you.” He handed me a crumpled and stained piece of vellum marked with Sathe ideograms in black ink.
“Uh … I cannot read,” I confessed.
“No?” he looked vaguely surprised. “Well, I guess one cannot expect everything … You know that while the Born Ruler is … indisposed, I take over her duties?” He waved his hand over the piece of paper, cream in the flickering orange light.
“That would figure.”
“Well, this was brought in from the village of Singing Rock, a small village. It is not too far, but well away from the main routes. It would seem they are having trouble with a strange creature.”
My heart leapt into my throat. Rehr continued.
“Apparently it is two legged, leaves very strange tracks, steals food, and kills wolves with ‘a loud noise’. Sound familiar?”
I nodded dumbly.
“They want some help in tracking it down.” He folded the paper carefully and handed it to me. “Would you be interested in going there and finding out what is going on?”
My mouth worked silently for a couple of times before I asked, “How soon would I be able to leave?”
He twitched his ears in amusement. “I can have an escort ready for you by morning. Be ready then.”
I turned to the door, still staring at the paper in my hand, and hardly daring to hope. Could it be possible … ?
I had my hand on the latch when I remembered. “Sir?”
“Yes?”
“May I ask how the conference went?”
“You may.” He drummed his claws on the obsidian. “It looks as if we may be at war.” ******
The door to my quarters creaked as I closed it behind me, but there was no sound from within. In the dimness, I half-felt my way across the room and peered through into the bedroom.
There were pieces of armour and clothing strewn everywhere. Two figures were curled against each other, lying in an errant patch of moonlight in the centre of the bed with rumpled sheets surrounding them. I mouthed a silent ‘oops’ and started to close the bedroom door.
“K’hy?”
Tahr had lifted her head and was blinking first at the figure lying beside her, then at me. Smoothly, she extricated herself from beneath his arm and slid out of bed. He made a noise, smacked his jaws and settled down again, never quite waking.
Once the bedroom door was closed behind us I smothered a smile and asked, “How are you feeling?”
Tahr settled crosslegged into a chair, still naked. “Confused … WHO is he?” She jerked her thumb at the closed door.
“You do not remember?” I shook my head. “Well, you needed someone to look after you; his name is H’rrasch.” I squatted down beside her.
“I have coupled with him?” she cast a bemused glance down at her groin. It was quite obvious what she’d been up to.
“It would look like it,” I said. “You do not remember?”
Her muzzle wrinkled. “You were there, then suddenly he was there … “
Her Time. Jesus, what went on in her head while it was going on? It was like she became something else; like there was a deeper, more animalistic side to her that ran closer to the surface than in humans. Despite the intimacy, she scared me sometimes; holding her, looking into her eyes to see the pure hunger staring back and for a second SHE wasn’t there. Perhaps some thing were never meant to be.
“You seemed to be getting along well enough,” I observed with nod towards the bedroom door.
“Yes, but… I mean this should not happen. He is just a soldier.”
“So am I.”
“K’hy, how can you ever be just a soldier?” she chuckled and reached up to stroke my face.
I smiled and touched that little tuft of fur on her chin, then remembered the note in my pocket. “Tahr, I am going to have to go away for a while. Out of Mainport. Tomorrow.”
“What? Where are you going? What has happened?”
“Hold it, slow down,” I touched her lips and she was quiet. “Rehr has let me go at my own request. Here … ” I produced the message and handed it over. Tahr scanned it, then read it over again.
“Well, what do you think?” I asked eagerly.
She shook her head quickly, then stared down at the paper. “It could be anything you know … a trickster, bandits, maybe an animal of some kind or… ” She trailed off when she saw my face.
I took a shuddering breath. “Oh God, I hope not … ” ******
When Rehr had said that the village of Singing Rock was off the beaten track, he hadn’t been kidding. One day west by wagon, then another two and a half days on foot.
The main road had been a joke, but this one …
The parallel ruts someone had felt like calling a road were overgrown with bushes and weeds, near nonexistent. There were felled trees across the track, and in places young trees were actually growing in the road. Getting a wagon through that lot just wasn’t worth it. The equipment we needed we carted in on llama-back.
Wary of ‘bandit’ activity in the area, Rehr had provided us with an escort: fifteen Sathe troopers altogether, all armed and all male. It was that time of year, and a female coming into season could cause a few problems amongst the troops. The commander was a Sathe I already knew: the scarred veteran S’sahr.
Singing Rock itself was a small village, self-sufficient. With that road it wasn’t surprising. The buildings were mostly wood, just a few built from what looked like fired clay bricks or adobe, arranged around a larger central home. Streets were just dirt and dust, riddled with rain-worn gulleys and ditches. Fields surrounded the entire village, surrounded in turn by forest, thinned by woodcutting and clearance for pastures. Away on the edge of the fields a shallow river glittered invitingly.
It was late afternoon when we trooped into the village, escorted by a few gawking cubs who had intercepted us almost a kilometre out, alerted by their own information network. Most of them had never even seen a Sathe soldier before, let alone anything like me. Older Sathe working in the fields and around the village paused in their work. A pair working at loading a kiln stopped their work, exchanged some comments and began following us. There were females, just a few who must have been in their last days of estrus skittering nervously. I saw soldiers’ heads turn and nostrils twitch distractedly. Thankfully nothing more.
The Clan lord met us at the door to his home in the middle of the village; A big Sathe, just starting to turn grey about the ears. He gaped at the procession in front of his house.
“My lord Scrai,” S’sahr bowed his head. “We are here at your call.”
“By my ancestors!” the Sathe lord scratched at his heavy mane. “I did not expect they would send so many!”
The three-quarter moon was creeping above the trees on a ridge, huge and shining. Somewhere a wolf howled and was answered with a more distant cry that wavered and echoed between the hills.
I shivered and tossed another branch on the fire that burned outside the tent flaps. Beside me, a Sathe soldier lying on his blanket muttered in his sleep and scratched vigorously at a hitchhiker. Other tents were scattered around in a rough circle, many of them with tired Sathe sprawled asleep outside, taking advantage of the mild weather.
From where I was sitting, I could see other warriors with more stamina enjoying themselves with the villagers. Music and shouting drifted on the air. The incredible silhouettes of Sathe weaved and bobbed in front of a bonfire.
There was a noise behind me; the sound of feet rustling in grass. Five cubs - most of the small village’s complement of kids - were standing half-hidden beside the tent, staring at me.
“Hi, Hello,” I greeted them.
They stared at me.
“It is all right; I do not bite. See, I do not even need a leash.”
They muttered and shifted, pushing each other forward until one of them took a hesitant step. “S … sir, Lord S’sahr wants to see you.”
“Oh? About what?”
“I … I … I … I … ” One of the others hit him in the back and he blurted out, “I do n … n … not know.”
Did the kid have a stutter? or was it just fear?
“Alright, I will be right with you.” I started pulling on my boots. Their ears pricked up in surprise and they watched in fascination as I tied the laces. “Lead on.”
S’sahr turned in his chair when I literally ducked in through the door. “We have been waiting,” he said simply.
“I am sorry,” I apologized.
Lord Scrai, sitting opposite under a flickering lantern, tapped the goblet he held with his claws and invited me to make myself comfortable. He studied me for some time before saying, “So you are K’hy … Honoured S’sahr has told me why you are here … You can understand me?”
“Well enough, Sir.”
He stiffened and his tongue flicked at his lips like a nervous little snake, “You speak very well.”
“Thank you.”
He cast a glance at S’Sahr, then leaned back and asked me, “Do you really think that this animal could be another … uh … another one of you?”
“I had hoped … ” I stopped, glancing down at my clenched fists. I made a conscious effort to relax and started over. “High one, I had hoped. I do not know for sure, that is why I came; hoping to find out. Please, could you tell me more about what has been going on?”
“Most certainly. Ah … we first saw it about four weeks ago. A farmer heard something disturbing his stock, he went to investigate and caught a glimpse of something running across the fields. He thought perhaps it was a Sathe, but the tracks he found were like nothing he had ever seen before.”
“They would not still be there?” I asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately not. We have had some heavy rain. They were washed away,” he said, lowering his ears in apology. Of course they never thought to cover a couple.
“Things also started to disappear. A farmer found that some of his grain and meat stocks had gone, and also a crossbow was taken, along with quarrels.” The lord cocked his head at me: “We are not wealthy and those things mean a lot to the farmer that lost them. Does your kind steal a lot?”
I shrugged. “Sir, it would depend upon the circumstances. If that is one of my people out there; he is probably hungry, cold, scared,” I remembered how I had felt when I saw Traders Meet; that hollow feeling when the world dropped out from under my feet, “and lonely.”
“There was something else as well,” S’sahr scratched his muzzle.
“Yes … It was two nights before you arrived. A wolf had killed a goat. The farmer who owned the animal was in time to see the wolf dragging it into the forest. A short time later there was a noise - like a small thunderclap.
“Several Sathe went to investigate the next morning. They found the body of the wolf, the head had been split open by something that had gone straight through it. The goat had been dragged off and was nowhere to be seen. After seeing what had happened to the wolf, they were reluctant to follow the trail.”
Probably just as well.
“They did find this.” He reached into a pouch hanging from his waist and pulled out a small object that flashed dully in the light. He handed it to me. “Do you know what it is?”
I turned the small brass cylinder over in my hands. On the baseplate, for all the world to see, there was a tiny dimple and the legend ‘FC 60 MATCH’.
Someone was using a 9mm pistol round manufactured in Wisconsin. ******
All the Sathe were panting hard by the time we got to the top of the ridge. S’sahr barked an order and there were groans, but the troopers spread out keeping eyes open for any traces or tracks. Way below us the village nestled in the elbow of the river bend, looking like a model.
“Good view, a?” S’sahr panted, his tongue lolling out the side of his mouth. “You do not even look tired.”
They were fast, unbelievably so, but they little stamina.
I glanced at the swords and crossbows. “Perhaps if you didn’t have to carry those … “
“There are things out here that do not like Sathe,” he grunted and turned to watch the Sathe troopers searching the ridgeline, shading his eyes with his hands. “You heard the wolves last night.”
“I would bet they like chasing Sathe.” I grinned. In joke: he wouldn’t understand.
“At a scent. Vicious creatures.”
“You have never tried to tame them?”
He looked disgusted at the mere idea. “Tame them? What for? They cannot pull wagons or ploughs. You cannot even eat them! Stringy meat.”
Difference in priorities. Why would natural predators need help?
We kept moving, following the ridgeline looking for tracks, leftovers, anything. It took a while, but finally a warrior hit paydirt: “There is spoor here!”
I scrambled across to where he was using a stick to trace out a shoe-shaped impression in the dirt. He looked up at me, “Sir, could you just put your foot here.”
I planted my foot where he indicated, right beside the marks. He compared the prints. Whoever had left the tracks was wearing sneakers. Reeboks.
“Smaller than you are,” the soldier said. “And quite recent. Perhaps this morning. Obviously went off that way.” He pointed along the top of the ridge, in a southerly direction.
“Alright,” S’sahr said. “Lead the way.”
The soldier glared at him, but complied. I wondered if they had been hearing tales about the dead wolf. That would make them a bit leery about charging around hunting for a creature that could do that.
The spoor crested the ridge, then started down the far side of the hill, into a gully carved by a stream running down to the river, almost hidden in the dappled shadows beneath the overhanging trees. The Sathe tracker stopped to examine the tracks where they appeared to cross the stream. “These are more recent than I thought … a few hours at most.”
He poked a stick at the tracks, measuring their depth, then started poking around on the same side of the stream. “Hah!” he grinned, showing an impressive array of dentures. “Tried to fool us … look, you can see where he stood on the rocks to hide the tracks.” There were flakes of mud on the rocks, and some looked like they had been moved, but I wouldn’t have spotted it if it hadn’t been pointed out to me. The tracks began again, heading upstream.
S’sahr snorted and flicked his ears as a sandfly tried to settle. “Looks like whoever it is does not want company.” He turned to the archers, “Load up.”
“Hey!” They were cocking the bows. “No! What are you doing! We are not here to kill him!”
“And we are not here to sacrifice our lives,” he replied as he shifted his sword around. “K’hy, I put the lives of my troops first. We will not do anything unless our lives are threatened. All right?”
I forced myself to think, to try and see it his way. It wasn’t easy; another human, so close!
“All right,” I reluctantly nodded.
We pushed on. In some places we had to force our way through heavy undergrowth, while in others we could walk unimpeded on a carpet of pine needle between the huge trunks of ancient conifers. The tracks turned into a distinct path through the grass alongside the river.
“Whoever it is comes this way a lot,” S’sahr said and pointed to a prominent footprint. “And he is not very careful.”
