Part 47: Skeletons

Note: This item has been rewritten and edited. All text in rose is BRAND NEW MATERIAL for this chapter of the story. In addition there are many minor changes to the original text itself. Please enjoy this new, expanded version of Part 47 and be on the lookout for updates to the next parts!


THE YOUNG MESSENGER knelt in the main court of the general of the Yellow Sands Tribe, his wings hunched and his face bruised. He winced continuously, every so often reaching out one shaking hand to rub at his back. The lashes he had received during his brief moments in the prison cell throbbed like fire.

All around him, Kana with amused or hostile looks stood, their eyes boring through him. He wished more than anything that he had not volunteered for such a duty.

"Sergeant," a cool voice said, and his head jerked up, eyes focusing on those of the Kana seated before him upon the dais, his purple lappets gleaming in the lanternlight. The sergeant's arm crept up to his breast and the other Kana's mouth twitched.

"You say you are of the River Tribe," he said, though such information was already well known.

The sergeant nodded shakily. "I...I bring a message of peace, and of supplication..."

The Kana held his hand up and sliced it through the air, cutting him off. "I have already read the details," he said in a bored-sounding voice. He held up the scroll which had been confiscated and shook it a little. "You come bearing a message of peace, when you know all too well that the River and the Yellow Sands are at war? Either you are incredibly bold, or incredibly foolish; and I am not inclined to believe the former."

"Please, Lord," the young Kana begged. "I only come as a messenger--"

"You come on behalf of..." The general peered at the scroll thoughtfully. "...Captain Fe'kheru. I am General Nehara, and I know of this Captain Fe'kheru; he is not the leader of your tribe." He met the messenger's eyes. "You will explain to me why you bring a supposed message of peace, which is not signed by your own general?"

The messenger winced. "He...our general is too weak and senile to send such a message, Lord," he murmured, and several of the lesser Kana laughed out loud.

Nehara waved at them to be silent. "And so your captain writes to us and presumes to think that we are allies now? Explain all these circumstances, Sergeant..." he set the scroll on the arm of his chair "...as if I have never read this before." His ear flicked. "I wish to hear your side of the story."

The sergeant had to suppress a grimace of pain, saluting again. "Yes, Lord...apparently...apparently, one of our captains...decided to take it upon himself to confront an enemy in common to us...the former East Tribe...we did not come out of the battle the victor, Lord...and most of our number have been killed off. There is only a third of us remaining...and we only by luck...and without the assistance of the Yellow Sands, we will surely die."

Nehara's nostrils flared. "And what, exactly, is Lord Fe'kheru's purpose in contacting us for assistance? In case you are too young to recall, Sergeant, it was some years ago that the River Tribe attacked us, and we lost no small number of our own men, as well." His mouth twitched. "One might say that perhaps it is divine justice, that such a fate has been meted upon you."

"Please, Lord, I do not know if this is so, yet Lord Fe'kheru is willing to set our past behind us...if you will only help us, Lord..."

The general snorted, seeming to be losing interest in the conversation; the lieutenants at his sides stared impassively at the younger Kana. "I am hardly interested in peace," he said. "Especially since our own ends have not yet been met. I fail to see how your tribe's difficulties have much to do with us."

The sergeant started pushing himself up to his feet. The two lieutenants reached for their swords, yet Nehara simply waved at them and took a sip of wine as the young Kana stood, keeping his arm clasped to his breast. Immediately the rest of the guards were surrounding him, yet he held his place, giving the general a pleading look.

"Please, Lord! You must reconsider! I came all this way!"

Nehara's nostrils flared. "You think your tribulations have more meaning to us--?"

"Lord, I speak only the truth. Our captains thought long and hard before deciding upon this course of action! All they ask is that you send a delegation of your men to meet with them. It is truly in your tribe's best interests if you ally yourselves with us!"

Nehara let out a sigh. "And why is this?"

The sergeant clasped his hands together as if begging--perhaps, by now, he was. "Please think of it, Lord! The East Tribe is our enemy--as it is yours! Should our armies fight together, we defeat an enemy in common!"

The other Kana's ear twitched. "Who is to say that we should not simply ally ourselves with them, then?" he inquired, looking rather amused by the messenger's distress. "And defeat your tribe?"

"The East Tribe is no longer the piddling enemy they once were, Lord!" the messenger cried. "Not long in the past they have overthrown their general and joined forces with another tribe! They are much stronger now, and could even defeat the Yellow Sands, should they choose!"

The guards' eyes widened, then they scowled and aimed their spears at him. Nehara just smiled.

"Flattery and pleading did not work," he said. "So out comes the intimidation." He let the scroll roll itself shut. "For your information, this news is not new to us. Everyone has heard of the Great Red Tribe, by now. One day, I think I should be very pleased to clash swords with General Mahakhi."

The messenger cringed. "Do not say this, Lord! They massacred almost our entire tribe! They could very well do the same to yours!"

"I also read..." Nehara unrolled the papyrus again, looking it over, then tracing one passage with his claw "...that a Captain Sut'khut played no small part in this affair." His mouth twitched. "From what I have heard, this was no massacre, merely defense on the part of the Great Red Tribe. I have seen your Captain Sut'khut in battle and I can safely tell you that if your tribe allowed him to lead this foray, then they well deserved what they got." The scroll rolled shut.

The messenger gawked, eyes wide. "You--you knew--?" he blurted out.

Nehara snorted. "We have scouts as well, Sergeant. How else do you think that we are still standing, when your tribe is barely anything more than old women by now?"

The young Kana could do nothing but sputter in disbelief. He sank back to his knees, his wings sinking as well and his eyes growing wet. "Then...you will not help us?" he cried. "You will let us simply die?"

The general gave him a cool look. "I am expected to show pity for the River Tribe, now?"

The sergeant rubbed his arm across his eyes. "Captain Fe'kheru is more than willing to ask forgiveness of the Yellow Sands Tribe!" he exclaimed. "If you will but send some of your men to assist us, so we do not all die out forever!"

His chest started hitching, and he had to catch his breath. When no response was forthcoming he peered out from behind his arm to see that the general and his two lieutenants were still staring at him. He furrowed his brow in confusion and hunched his wings.

A moment passed in silence, then the corner of Nehara's mouth twisted upwards. "Is this so?" he inquired. "Your captain is willing to apologize to my tribe...?"

The sergeant blinked, then nodded hastily. "He is more than willing! If it will convince you to help us, Lord!"

Nehara sat back in his chair. "Do you think your captain would be willing to remove his lappets?" he prompted; one of the lieutenants looked at him openly, even as the messenger gawked again.

"L--Lord--?" he stammered, uncertain.

Nehara waved his hand. "I would not dare to ask that your captain release control of the tribe, Sergeant, so you needn't worry about that," he said. "I merely wish to know if he is so desperate, that he would remove his lappets, to show his sincere regrets over what was done to our tribe." He smiled. "He may of course put them back on, after he is done."

The lieutenant arched his brows. "B-but--Lord--!" the sergeant stammered, his own brow furrowing. "S-surely you do not need this--I mean--it is--it is merely a symbolic gesture, surely?--so--what--what good would it do, if he were to--"

Nehara's smile immediately faded and he sat back again, tapping his claws against the chair arm. "Pity," he said. "I had thought your captain was sincerely interested in our assistance."

"He--he is, Lord! Truly!" the messenger exclaimed, waving his arms. "Of course! Of course he will remove his lappets! If you will send some of your men, and please help us! We are brothers against the Great Red Tribe!"

Nehara snorted. "Hardly. I use the term only in its loosest, most diplomatic sense. However..." He lifted the scroll and rolled it about in his hand, looking at it calmly. "I am feeling rather forgiving today." He smiled again, though there was nothing remotely friendly in it. "If the River Tribe is able to debase itself, and seek forgiveness for the wrongs they have committed against us...then who am I to turn down their plea." The sergeant prostrated himself and started mumbling his gratitude while Nehara turned his head to look at the lieutenant to his right, then the one to his left. "Lieutenant Fa'rukha. Lieutenant She'hekha. The two of you pick a handful of my best men, and set out for the River Tribe posthaste."

The Kana he had addressed as She'hekha turned his head to frown at him. "Lord...?"

Nehara waved his hand again as the sergeant lifted his head and rubbed at his eyes. "I could hardly bear to be thought of as completely heartless," he said, and then smiled again. "And I rather like to believe that perhaps someday, this may work in our favor, having the great River Tribe in our debt." He gestured with the scroll. "A dozen of my men. They, and my lieutenants, will go with you back to your tribe. They will meet with your captains, and discuss whatever they should decide upon regarding the Great Red Tribe. And should they decide upon a war, then all my army is at your disposal. All I ask in return, is that your captain take off his pretty lappets for but a moment, and that my men receive the bulk of the spoils to be had."

The messenger bobbed his head rapidly. "Yes, Lord--many thanks, Lord! I wish you life, strength, and health!"

The lieutenants were already walking for the exit. "Yes, yes," Nehara said, boredly, and waved him away; the guards around him dragged him back up to his feet, and he was promptly turned about and pushed after the others, having to jog from the room before he could be left behind--and he did not want to be left behind in this place.

* * * * *

The sergeant walked behind the two lieutenants, head hanging, as they paced down the hallway away from Nehara's main court. "Assisting the enemy tribe," the lieutenant who had been addressed as She'hekha muttered; the other two looked at him. "This is nothing but nonsense. I believe Nehara has lost his head today."

The other lieutenant--Fa'rukha--shrugged. "It is rather ridiculous, but he has his reasons. Besides, it is about time the men got out for a spat." He stretched his arms over his head and flexed his wings. "It's getting tiring hanging about this household all the time, you have to admit."

"This is hardly any reason to defend an enemy," She'hekha retorted. His tail flicked as he walked. "As if we do not have better things to do with our time. Like defeating the Great Red Tribe ourselves."

The sergeant whimpered when his back throbbed anew, and rubbed at it with a grimace. The lieutenants looked back at him; She'hekha wrinkled his muzzle.

"It was a mere dozen lashes, with a puny whip, and it did not even break the skin," he said, and turned away. "Quit sniveling about it."

"Ignore him," Fa'rukha said, giving the sergeant a look and then turning away as well. "He has not had his morning breakfast of scorpions just yet."

The sergeant furrowed his brow, then his eyes wandered down to look at the first lieutenant's back. He wore armor, yet in the space between it and his kilt, he could see what appeared to be lash scars, crisscrossing each other. He cringed and whimpered again.

"Today's Kana are too soft," She'hekha said. "They cannot even take a measly dozen lashes and not burst into tears over it. If this is the state of the River Tribe army, no wonder they were all killed."

"You are just in a foul mood that you have not gotten out of the household in so long," Fa'rukha interjected.

"It is the company I keep."

Fa'rukha gave a bark of laughter. "It's a good thing I know you are not speaking of me!"

They exited the building, making their way down the steps and into the street. A group of Kana awaited outside the gate, craning their necks; as soon as the lieutenants joined them they crowded around and started chattering all at once.

"Well--? Are we to put his head on a pike then--?"

"Please tell me I can have his armor! It looks like it'd be a good fit..."

"How about we string him up from the wall--?"

She'hekha made a face and shoved one of them out of the way so that he fell over. The sergeant cringed and wished he had his sword, his dagger, anything, only to blink in surprise when the other lieutenant handed him his dagger. He waved away the rest of the Kana, who started slinging halfhearted insults at them.

"No, no, and no," Fa'rukha said. "General Nehara actually has different plans..."

"Any of you who do not have any pending responsibilities to the household," She'hekha said, still walking on ahead. "Fetch your Sha, and whatever you think you will need for four days' travel, and follow. We are taking a little trip."

"Trip--?" several of the Kana echoed, and turned bodily to follow him; Fa'rukha had to grab hold of the messenger to pull him along.

"Yes, trip," She'hekha said. He glanced back, and gave them all a very sour look. "It looks as if we are to play peacemakers with the River Tribe."

"Peacemakers?" came the collective shout of disbelief. The messenger shrank in on himself again when he was confronted by half a dozen angry glares.

She'hekha waved his hand at the air and didn't bother turning back this time. "All is not lost just yet," he replied.

"And so how is playing peacemakers with the River Tribe going to be of any use at all--?" one of the other Kana groused as they made their way down the street toward the Sha stables.

"Simple." She'hekha flicked his tail. "Once we are through with that...then we will play war with the Great Red Tribe."

* * * * *

Djuta strode down the hallway toward his own quarters, which he had vacated the previous day without returning since. His mind went over everything that had happened in the past two days, and he had to rub at it just to try to will the ache away. He had felt fine, awakening in Resikh's bed...now the thought of returning to his own room was almost more than he could bear. He had last left Khetai in there, on her own, and when they had last spoken to each other, they had not been in a good mood.

The both of us, in a poor mood, he thought as his step began to slow. This is a recipe for a broken room, and a broken head.

He winced to himself as his door neared, and slowed down even more. He stopped outside it and placed his hand on the handle but couldn't bring himself to open it; she had already destroyed most of his furniture; what was there left for her to destroy? He considered going in and finding his bed torn to shreds, the columns shattered and broken, the wall tiles gouged out and missing, and sighed as soon as he realized that this vision was probably not so far from the truth. He grasped the handle and eased the door open as quietly as he could, hating that he should be so afraid of a mere female, yet full well knowing the fear was warranted. His face still stung from where she'd clawed and struck him.

His eyes fell first on the bed, standing not far from the right wall, and he paused, noticing no one in it. She had been there, when he'd left her the day before. Now the drapes were parted, the sheets still mussed as they had been when he'd left, but the bed was otherwise empty. He slowly opened the door further and took a hesitant step into the room, peering from right to left. The shattered storage boxes and chests lay just as they had been left, as he had not given himself any reason to clean them up with her around; he still didn't see her, and wondered if perhaps she'd run away after all. There had been no alarm, but then again, she was smart enough that he wouldn't put a stealthy escape past her; or perhaps she had merely clawed the trumpet-bearer to death.

He made a face at this ridiculous thought, and was just about ready to step back out of the room when he finally saw her. She had not escaped, and she was not hiding; she was not even destroying more of his belongings. Instead she sat upon the floor in the far left corner of the room, her back to him; he paused, then took a step inside to better see her. Her wings rested against her back, and the tip of her tail twitched every so often; as he looked, he saw her elbow move, but couldn't tell what she might be doing. Her head was lowered and he couldn't see the look on her face; it would have seemed almost like she had fallen asleep this way, sitting upright. Djuta stared at her for a moment, then started silently walking toward her, making his way around the boxes without making a sound. He approached her at an angle and at last saw the small chest which sat in front of her, and he drew in a breath. She held a papyrus in her hands and was staring down at it, a pensive look on her face; Djuta's hackles prickled, and immediately he stormed toward her, reaching down and snatching the scroll from her hands so abruptly that she gasped and jerked back. He tossed it in the box and slammed its lid shut, latching it and scooping it up; he did all of this, and shoved the box under his arm, before she even had the chance to lift her head and look up at him. He whirled away from her, kicking another box out of the way as he crossed to the other side of the room.

He set the box down on a stand so hard that the legs shook, then leaned on it, letting out his breath. From the corner of his eye he saw her staring at him; she put her hand against the floor, as if to push herself up, then changed her mind and stayed where she was. She stared at the floor and fiddled with the edge of her dress.

"Why did you never tell me...?" she murmured.

He snorted. "It did not matter. I do not spend time on things that do not matter."

There was a brief silence. "Maybe, if you had told me," she finally ventured, "I would have understood you a little bit better."

He lifted his head and turned it to look at her; the look in his eyes made her lower her head again. "We are not here to understand each other," he said. "I am here to do my duty, and you are here to fulfill your end of the bargain, if you would only cooperate." He pushed himself away from the table and turned around to glower at her. "And so--?" When she peered up at him he nudged the box with his elbow. "How much of it did you read?"

She stared at him for a moment, then lowered her eyes. "Pretty...pretty much all of it," she murmured, and he snorted, making her flinch.

"Well." He shrugged, and crossed his arms. "So now you know everything about me. I'll have you know, there are things in this box that even Resikh does not know, and until you came along, he was the one who knew the most about me. I hope you kept yourself quite entertained while I was away. You should have torn into the bed and walls while you were at it."

She pushed herself slightly upright now. "I did not read it to entertain myself!" she exclaimed. "I did not know if you were coming back--!"

He snorted again. "So you would not have read it if you knew I would be returning--?"

She flushed. "This...this is not it!" She bit her lip, then averted her eyes again. "I...I truthfully thought everyone else knew. I thought I was the only one who didn't. If I'd known, I never would have read it, I swear it."

"And lose your last chance to beat my spirits to death? Now why would you pass up such a thing?"

He fully expected her to launch into a tirade, and so was mildly surprised when she didn't. She lowered her head now and continued picking at her dress. She looked genuinely ashamed.

"I did not know," she said softly. "I am sorry."

He stared at her hard, before deciding it was not worth continuing the argument over. He sighed and turned back to the table, staring at the little box; he could sense her peering up at him again, but didn't turn back. He unlatched it and nudged it open, and pulled out the scroll she had been reading last. He pulled it open with his claw and looked at the words upon it.

Before the general of the Shore Tribe, life, strength, health!: I state these facts to be right and true.

I, Captain Elite Tas'hukh, the Hata'tai, do forfeit my ownership of the Moru Djuta; and herewith declare him a free Kana, seeing as his ability of flight has never been hampered, and he has always maintained his status within the Kana army. By a mistake made upon his wounding in combat with the enemy tribe, he was unfairly deemed Moru, and placed in servitude to Captain Tas'hukh of the Shore Tribe. I, Captain Tas'hukh, now return to him his status as lieutenant elite, and with this return to him every privilege as a Kana of high rank and esteem, a valued warrior of the general's army. With him shall go all of his possessions, including those which were deemed the property of Captain Tas'hukh during his erroneous servitude as a Moru.

Among the items to be returned forthwith to the Kana Djuta are:

* His weaponry, including his war sword, and his dagger, and any lesser weapons;
* His armor, including his girdle, his armlets, and any other protective coverings;
* His clothing, including his kilts, his jewelry, his sandals, and any other such items;
* His headdress and lieutenant's lappets, by which his full status as a Kana elite may herewith be known and recognized;
* His personal effects, including, but not limited to, his chests, his personal correspondences, his furniture, his household belongings, and his items of food and drink;
* And any other such items as had once belonged to the Kana Djuta, and were handed over into the possession of the Kana Tas'hukh upon the erroneous revocation of his Kana status. Any remaining items are to be described by the Kana Djuta himself, and immediately returned into his possession.

In addition shall go to the Kana Djuta any possessions which he may have been granted as the slave of the Kana Tas'hukh, which, upon his relegation to Kana status, are to immediately return into his possession. These items are:

* One Kana son, born of the Moru Hup'khit, formerly named son of Captain Tas'hukh.

As the Kana Djuta is now a free person, any offspring he may have produced as the Moru of the Kana Tas'hukh are to be returned to him promptly, as belonging to his house.

Forthwith, the body of said son, deceased, will be returned into the Kana Djuta's possession, and all records of the Kana Djuta, referring to said Kana as Moru, shall be expunged, and the Kana Djuta returned to full Kana status within the general's army.

I, Captain Elite Tas'hukh, the Hata'tai, do decree this, and swear upon Maat that all contents of this contract are right and true. Life! Strength! Health!

Djuta's stare lingered upon the scroll for a while, before he let it roll itself shut. The anger in him faded as he replaced it in its box; he searched his heart, and found it feeling oddly empty. He slowly turned about and leaned on the table once more, staring off into space; Khetai stared back, and if he had been in any other frame of mind, the pitying look in her eyes would have irritated him.

"You were Moru," she said softly.

He nodded.

"So...you know how it feels, then. To be Kana one day, and Moru the next."

"I had not claimed I did not know."

Khetai let out her breath. "Why did you not tell me?" she asked.

He looked up at her. "Why would you have wished to know?"

Her brow furrowed. "Because it explains things!" She forced her voice to lower. "Ever...ever since you took me in, I...I've always been wondering why you even did it. It made no sense to me. Every Kana I have ever met has shown that they would have hated me if they had known who I really was. I wondered why you were different. This explains it. You have been there."

He shrugged. "I hope that even if I had not been there, I would have done the same thing. Though truthfully, by now, I do not understand why I bothered."

She still didn't retort to this. She chewed on her lip a little and her wings shuffled. "The pup," she murmured, and he looked toward the floor again. "He...he had a name...?"

Djuta shook his head. "No. Lord Tas'hukh named him. He would not tell me the name, after...he said that I should name him. Now that I was free." He paused. "By then it did not matter anymore."

Khetai's face pinched. She pushed herself up and tentatively crossed the room toward him, halting several paces away. "How old was he?"

Djuta stared at the floor. "Five days. He had not even had his wings tested yet."

"How...?"

He shook his head slightly. "I do not know. He simply stopped breathing. As his mother died bearing him, this likely affected him also. He was probably too weak." He stretched his torn wing and relaxed it again. "Days after this, I was freed."

Khetai fell silent, and the stillness rang in the room, filling their ears. "What did you do with him...?" she asked at last, her eyes uncertain.

"I left him. Tas'hukh had already interred him in the cliffs." He turned back to the box. "There was no point in digging him back up."

He saw the flinch cross her face before he turned away, and started poking around for a jar of wine. He poured himself a cup and downed it in two swallows, wrinkling his muzzle at the taste. "There is anything else you wish to know--?" he asked, as he poured another cup.

Khetai's nostrils flared. "I did not read it to humiliate you."

"I asked if there is anything else you wish to know? Seeing as you have already looked through all of it, you may as well satisfy all your curiosities at once."

She looked stricken. "This--this isn't what--"

He turned back and held out the cup toward her so she fell silent, staring at it. "Go ahead," he said quietly. "Seeing as you have already read it all."

She stared at him somewhat reproachfully, yet he saw that her eyes were wet. After a moment she stepped forward and meekly took the cup, sipping from it while he waited. She chewed on her lip, then stepped past him and dug in the box a little.

"There is another one--" She pulled out one of the scrolls as he watched, and pulled it open, looking it over before holding it out toward him. "A sponsorship contract--signed by Lord Djetef--this is Lord Resikh's father." She looked at him, then back at the scroll, and her brow furrowed. "No house is given for your name. Even in the nullification contract by Lord Tas'hukh, no house is given. The Shore Tribe was not your original tribe...?"

Djuta shook his head.

She stared at him for a moment. "Where then are you from?"

He lifted one shoulder. "Your guess is as good as mine."

She got an odd look. "You do not even know where you come from...?" she asked, incredulous, but before the words were fully out of her mouth he was shaking his head again.

"No. The Shore Tribe is the only home I've ever remembered, before this one."

Her eyes grew wider. "You--do not remember where you are from--?"

"I remember walking in the desert." He poured another cup of wine and took a drink. "I remember coming to the Shore Tribe, and I remember Lord Djetef taking me in. All afterwards is clear to me. Before that, there is nothing. I was but a pup--pups remember little of their lives."

"The sponsorship contract states you were five years old," Khetai argued. "Even pups this young may remember things."

"I do not know what to tell you, aside from that I do not remember. This is all."

She gave him a hard look, then, at a loss, put the scroll back in the box. "Your father? Your mother?" she inquired; he shook his head both times. "Siblings--?" Another negative. "Not one tiny thing? Surely you remember something!"

"I remember plenty of sand," Djuta replied. "Because I felt like I walked through it forever. And this is all."

Khetai let out a frustrated noise and shoved the box away. She leaned against the table as well, and they stayed this way for a little while, staring at the floor.

"I cannot even imagine this," she murmured after a long while. "Not even remembering where I am from...my past..." She shuffled her wings. "Even Moru have pasts. But to not have one at all...do you never wonder?"

"It does not wear on me," Djuta said. "It is all I have ever known."

"But not knowing who your father is...if he was a Kana or a Moru, or a good person or an awful person...if you have brothers or sisters..." She furrowed her brow at him. "How can this not wear on you?"

"I have all of the family that I need here," he said. "I have Lord Djetef and Resikh and Be'shen, and I have General Mahakhi and Nehef and Ahai'ikh and Hiath'ikh, and I have Rithukh'het. I even have you." He looked at her but she blushed horribly and ducked her head. "And for your sake, I will have more than that, soon enough. But for the moment, this is all that I need and care for. The way I see it, I found the Shore Tribe for a reason."

"But you left it..." She dug in the box, and pulled out yet another scroll, holding it up at him.

He took a sip. "You have more questions? I have more answers. The day is still very young."

She pursed her lips, then looked down at the scroll. "I do not think I have questions," she murmured. "I think what you have told me gives me all the answers I need." She carefully unrolled it and showed its contents.

To the general of the Shore Tribe, life, strength, health to his house!:

I, Captain Elite Tas'hukh, the Hata'tai, ask that the military contract of Lieutenant Elite Djuta, the Kana, be herewith cancelled, so that the Kana Djuta may resign from the army and the Shore Tribe, to seek his livelihood elsewhere. The reasons being not of any nature which concerns dissatisfaction with the military or with the general (life, strength, health!), nor with any aspect of the Shore Tribe itself whatsoever, but being of a personal nature best left undisclosed. I can vouch for the Kana Djuta as a Kana of good standing, in long service to the general, and of many skills and honors. You yourself have granted him many of these honors, and he has enjoyed a fruitful and distinguished career in the Kana army. He has not once given anyone any reason to regret his presence, and has done all within his power to bring prestige and honor to the Shore Tribe as a whole. Many are the battles he has fought, and the honors he has won, so that he has earned the right to ask his leave of the army, with all honors, rank, and title intact.

I ask that you cancel Lord Djuta's contract so that he may resign from our tribe, and hope that he may bring his next tribe as much honor as he has brought our own.

I, Captain Elite Tas'hukh, the Hata'tai, ask this favor of our general, that it may be considered. (Life, strength, health!)

Khetai let the scroll roll shut. "You asked to leave them," she said softly. "Because there was nothing left for you there. And everything to remind you of what had happened. This is as good a reason as any to leave a tribe." She frowned at him slightly. "How is it that Lord Resikh came to be with this tribe...?"

Djuta's mouth twitched. "He followed me," he said simply, and took a drink. "And his whole house with him."

She stared at him in seeming surprise for a moment or two, then looked almost as if she wanted to smile. She refrained, putting the scroll back. This time she retrieved a simple square of rough papyrus, wrapped in a piece of cloth. She peered at him before carefully untying the string around it and lifting the edges of the cloth to reveal its contents. Djuta glanced down at it and his ear flicked.

"I imagine this makes much better sense now," Khetai murmured, and held it flat in her hand.

To the Kana Djuta:

May your next tribe welcome you as did ours, yet may your life there be filled with less sorrow than it was here.

Please forgive me. I did all that I could for you.

Captain Tas'hukh

Djuta stared at the little square of papyrus; his voice vanished. He had completely forgotten that one. As he stared at it he felt his throat stick as his memories returned--the courtyard, the pool, Bakh'asu--and suddenly the apology made much more sense than it had before. Until now, he had always assumed it was about other things--his wing--Hup'khit--his son. Now...

His vision of it blurred, the words all jumbling together into an incoherent mass. Khetai's brow furrowed slightly when she saw the look in his eyes, and she took the papyrus away, tying it shut in its covering again and tucking it back in the box.

"He cared very much for you," she said quietly, and shut the box and nudged it aside.

Djuta still couldn't find his voice. He felt the tears start to stream from his eyes, but did nothing to stop them. Khetai stood still for a moment or two, before leaning against the table again as he did, and they both turned to stare across the room. After a while, he felt her hand take his, her fingers wrapping around his own; he held her hand in return, and they stood for a long time in perfect silence.

* * * * *

Dawn broke over the Great Red Tribe, and the city slowly awoke as it always did. The streets began to fill with the merchants and traders with their goods, and the barracks yard echoed with the shouts and clanging noises of the trainees, their lieutenants yelling above the noise. The guards within the major households changed shifts, some retiring to bed, others just rising; the household of Mahakhi, for the most part, stood quiet, as there were no events planned for the day, and many of its residents slept in. The chill began to dissipate from the air as the sun rose higher, and the town grew noisier, yet those noises did not carry beyond the thick high walls of the general's house, nor within its long numerous halls.

Captain Tas'hukh slept the sleep of the dead, sprawled upon his back with his arm behind his head and the other across his breast. The sheets were tangled around his ankles as he had spent a good part of the night tossing in uneasy dreams, most of which featured himself, with another Kana beneath him, and his own hands running up and down the other Kana's body as he moved, urging himself so deeply inside that he thought he should burst. Sometimes the Kana he mated looked like Djuta...sometimes it resembled Hiath'ikh...at one point, he could have sworn it even looked vaguely like the barracks lieutenant, Tefkha. Once or twice he thought the body looked most like that of his first lover, from the barracks...but as he drifted toward wakefulness, hearing his own groans in his ears and feeling himself tremble in climax, the body he held beneath him was clothed in pale white fur, and black private's lappets dangled before its ears, and when it tossed its head back to cry out, its eyes were bright blue...

Thankfully, the dream had seemed to end about then, and he had at last lapsed into deeper sleep, and the rest of his dreams, if he even had any, were not memorable.

He began to drift toward wakefulness again, trying to decide whether he should arise or continue sleeping, when a low thudding sound eventually worked its way into his brain, stopped, then started up again. His brow furrowed slightly and he turned his head to burrow it into the pillows. But the dull thudding noise did not cease.

"Lord...?" a very faint voice called out. Tas'hukh's ear flicked and he snorted. It was the same voice he had just heard moaning his name, earlier that night...

"Lord Tas'hukh...?" the voice came again, louder this time, and he finally dragged his eyes open, frowning slightly. The thudding sound--knocking--continued. "Lord Tas'hukh, are you awake...?"

He stared at the canopy in a haze, then blinked and snorted again. He paused before pushing himself up and wincing and rubbing at a little pain in his neck. He glanced toward the door.

"Who is it--?" he called out, perplexed. It couldn't even be much past the eighth hour of the day yet.

"Private Ri'hus, Lord," the voice said, and he blinked again, suddenly remembering. He grasped at the sheet.

"Hold a moment!" he called, and started to pull it aside, only to grimace. His lap was wet. He lifted the sheet and peered at it for a moment before wrinkling his muzzle in disgust and climbing out of the bed. He stripped it of its coverings and wadded them up, depositing them in one of his chests and then fetching a fresh kilt and loincloth, as the ones he wore were equally wet and sticky. He made faces the entire time he changed. He hadn't ejaculated in his sleep since he was a teenager.

He made certain he was smoothed down and approached the door, unlatching it and pulling it open. He rubbed at his eyes when he saw Private Ri'hus peering in at him. Those bright blue eyes gave him a vaguely familiar feeling.

Ri'hus smiled at him. "Good morning, Lord!"

"Hm--?" Tas'hukh glanced back at the courtyard. "It is...?" He yawned. "I suppose it is...was there something you wished for, Private...?"

Ri'hus blinked this time, smile fading into a small frown. "Well...yes, Lord. I had thought we were to go out to the courtyard and train?"

Tas'hukh frowned now. "Train...?"

Ri'hus's perplexed look grew. "Yes, Lord...I mean...that is why I came here, isn't it...?"

Tas'hukh stared at him for a moment, then his eyes widened. "Train!" he exclaimed, making the youth flinch, and rubbed at his head. "That is right! I apologize, Private...I forgot. I suppose I was tired last night."

Ri'hus's face lit up again. "This is all right, Lord! I'm all rested now, and I brought my sword..." he indicated his scabbard "...and I am ready to start my training for the day!"

"Start--?" Tas'hukh glanced at the courtyard again. "It cannot even be the ninth hour yet, Private!"

"It is perhaps a quarter past the eighth hour, Lord."

Tas'hukh gaped. "And you are awake?" he blurted out in disbelief.

Ri'hus furrowed his brow. "Well...of course, Lord." He flushed a little. "I...I apologize that I slept in, Lord...but, I am ready now, and can make up for it tomorrow..."

"Slept in--?" Tas'hukh's jaw fell open. Then he snapped it shut and remembered--trainees customarily arose in the barracks at the sixth hour, sometimes even earlier, if it was needed. He winced and rubbed at his suddenly aching head while Ri'hus shifted uneasily from foot to foot.

"Lord...?" he said meekly. "If I...did something wrong..."

Tas'hukh sighed and shook his head. "No, no...you did not." He had to suppress a yawn. "I had just...not expected you to look forward to training quite so much, is all."

The young Kana brightened again. "I am willing to improve myself, Lord! To keep my promise! If you will keep your promise, then I shall keep mine too! As best as I can!" He turned and started practically hopping from foot to foot. "You are ready then, Lord--? I do not think I will do too well...but...I am willing to try!"

Tas'hukh nodded wearily and turned back into the room. "Yes, yes...hold on and let me fetch my sword...I'll meet you in the north courtyard."

Ri'hus beamed at him. "Yes, Lord!" He turned and jogged away, a spring in his step.

Tas'hukh glanced back at him as he went, and grimaced at the pain again twinging in his knee. He let out a heavy sigh...he had not imagined that training would possibly be so intensive, but then again, all his last trainee had ever wanted to do was have nesakh'ai. He wondered if this had been such a brilliant idea after all, when he happened to set his eyes on Ri'hus's tail, and watched the way it swung from side to side as he ran...then his stare wandered over his narrow hips...and down his slender thighs...and then he quickly turned away, fetching his sword and scabbard and affixing them to his belt before he would need to fetch himself yet another kilt.

By the time he was out in the hallway striding toward the north court, his own step had quickened considerably, and he walked as freely and as determinedly as a young Kana on a mission.

* * * * *

A'hiyet was in her seventeenth year, had had three masters so far, and had had no pups. She supposed it was the reason why her first master had sold her, when a year of his attentions had still not managed to get her to drop him a pup; no matter how many times she had stared at her reflection, or run her hands over her belly, it had never changed, and her bleeding-time had always come just as expected. It was a pity, as he had treated her very well, having beaten her only once, and that only because she had gone to see the physician on her own, without his permission, just to make certain she was not with child yet. And he had of course not beaten her too badly, and had even brought her back to the physician afterwards, so her bruises could be tended to. She had only suffered a black eye and a cracked rib, which was much less than what other Moru who had done such things might receive. And of course, once she was back in his quarters, they had had nesakh'ai again, and though her ribs had ached the entire time, things had then been all right.

She still had never managed to give him a pup though, and she had hated the disappointed look on his face when he'd sold her, in fact trading her for another, younger Moru...A'hiyet had watched him go, and wished that she had not been the one to put that look on his face.

Her next master had kept her for only three weeks, though he had been a remarkably strange Kana, preferring to tie her to his bed and stand over her to urinate in her face, which had always made her sputter and shake her head, but at least his nesakh'ai was all right. He had never beaten her, though he had pissed in her throat a few times, and had yelled and cuffed her ears when she'd spat it up the first time. Other than that, he had not seemed much interested in having pups, which was just as well, since, however ignorant of such things she may have been, A'hiyet was fairly certain that it took more than urine to produce children.

Her latest master was the big Kana Mahakhi, who had mated her four times so far. His size was somewhat uncomfortable, and he tended to rut deeply and heavily when lost in the throes of desire, but he had neither beaten her nor urinated upon her. Still, she had failed to become pregnant by him as well; he had sighed at her lack of progress, yet placed her back in the Moru quarters. He had not called upon her in at least several weeks now, but she was not worried. She enjoyed the company of his Moru.

In particular, the strange human one. A'hiyet had seen humans only once before in her life, when a group of them had descended upon the tribe she'd been born into, killing the Kana while the Moru fled into the desert. Those humans had been angry and shrieking...this one was not. She found him quite curious and interesting, in a place like this. He had even allowed her to speak with him, and had asked about her past, and how she had come to be here; he seemed genuinely curious about his fellow Moru, and they had already spent some time getting to know one another. He had reacted with shock on hearing her tale of her former masters, and had protested that such behavior was uncalled for; when she'd tried explaining that it was perfectly fine for Kana to beat their Moru for disobedience, he had vehemently disagreed, so for the sake of peace she had not tried explaining it further, even though she still knew he was wrong. She had asked him if he considered it all right for Kana to piss upon their Moru, but that question had flustered him so much that he could no longer speak, and so she had merely laughed it off and they had gone on to discuss lighter things.

As the time went by, she grew to enjoy whenever he would sit with her and talk, as it gave her something to fill up the otherwise long hours; and one night, when she had leaned forward and kissed him, he had not pulled away from her. She liked the feel of his odd teeth as they gently scored her lips; and the feel of his smooth body, when he had pressed against her and lowered her to his pallet, made her spine tingle at its strangeness. She had giggled breathlessly, baring herself as he fumbled with his kilt and loincloth, and it was not too long before A'hiyet moaned and dug her claws into the straw, her body arching with his thrusts. He was not nearly as big as Mahakhi-Master and so the feeling had been much more pleasurable, and she'd fully welcomed the warmth of his seed inside her once they were done. Since then, they had mated again, and whenever he tired of the other Moru's attentions he knew that he was welcome upon her pallet, and she was welcome upon his.

Today, however, she merely sat in the corner, watching the rest of her kind. She was interested in particular in Ameni and his companion, the Moru Thi'usa. Things had been somewhat tense between them lately; the gossip among the other Moru was that they disagreed over the presence of the new Kana, Tas'eta, the son of Nehekhi. There could be only one reason why Tas'eta had arrived--to take back what was rightfully his. Lieutenants Nehef and Ahai'ikh had made it clear to the Moru that Lord Mahakhi had decided not to challenge Tas'eta's claim to his father's property...and since this, Thi'usa had been in a permanent sulk. He was short tempered and snappish, and had barked even at Nehef when he'd come to take him to Mahakhi. This left the rest of them wide eyed. No Moru had ever refused the general before. Nehef had had to go back to him meek and emptyhanded; fortunately, it seemed that Mahakhi must have been more surprised than anyone, as no punishment had been given. Thi'usa was one of his favorites...but even favorites could push limits.

"If he does not wish to keep me, then he may not have me," Thi'usa grumbled from his own corner. "I have been loyal to him this whole time--ever since we lost Nehekhi-Master--and now, he is so willing to give me up to a stranger! Should that Moru come to claim me, I will kill myself, first."

"You cannot mean this," Ameni had tried to reason with him. "If he's Nehekhi's son, we belong to him. Lord Mahakhi is only recognizing his right under Kana law...what has gotten into you?"

Thi'usa spat at him. "And you as well! Loyal I am, to all here, and yet all are so willing to simply give themselves up! I refuse to go with him. I will take a hint from Lord Djuta and stick a dagger in my breast before they can try to take me away. Only, where he failed, I will succeed."

It was of no use, anymore, to try to convince him of his stubbornness. Ameni tried every so often, even wheedled at him with tempting whispers, yet Thi'usa kept himself away from them all, unless Ki'amit or Tai'ihet decided to visit him. Ameni he always turned away...so now she, A'hiyet, had recently become the primary focus of his attentions, instead. Although she had always disliked discord, she did not mind its results.

Ameni came to her tonight with a heavy sigh, shoulders slumped. She cocked her head at him and offered her most innocent look, as if what was going on between him and Thi'usa was unknown to her, though they both knew it was not.

"He refuses, still?" she asked, when he sat down beside her. He ran his hands down his face and sighed again.

"Yes, as always. He is so stubborn! Sometimes I wish he had never been Kana, then perhaps he would not be so thickheaded. I cannot understand him. He was so loyal to Nehekhi...why does he hate his son so?"

"I feel this is not it, he merely loves Mahakhi-Master." She looped her arm about his and he squeezed her hand. "If Lord Nehekhi had offered to give you up, would you be willing to go?"

Ameni stared at the floor for a while. "I suppose I understand," he murmured. "Though the choice is simply not his to make..."

A'hiyet stroked his arm and purred. "Come; it may not be his choice, yet it is not yours either. You are frustrated? I may make you feel better..."

He let out a final sigh, but she knew he would give in, as always. She smiled and placed her arms about him affectionately and the two of them slipped slowly to the floor; she was an attractive Moru, and knew all of the ways to satisfy him, by now. On finding out how he loved being with Thi'usa, she had even offered him khef'khef, and now the two of them were quite close. Today, there was no exception; they kissed one another deeply as they pulled at each other's clothes, their motions slow and easy; but it was not too long before A'hiyet rolled herself onto her belly and spread her thighs, lifting her tail and arching the small of her back. She sighed to feel Ameni's hands caress her buttocks and thighs as he prepared himself, his breath beginning to come in a pant.

"Poor one," she murmured. "You could have come to me, last night. I did see you stroking yourself, all alone..."

"If I were to come to you every time now that I wish for this, sweet A'hiyet," he said huskily, "you would never gain any rest...oh gods, I have to find relief, now..."

A'hiyet swished her tail and arched herself further, welcoming him. She shut her eyes. Ameni came down upon her so their hips pressed together, and he groaned softly as he eased his way in, deeper, further. A'hiyet started to breathe faster. He lay down atop her and slipped his hands beneath her body, tenderly cupping her breasts, bending his knees to loop his ankles around hers for leverage, then gently urging his hips forward, one thrust, two, three. They sighed in unison and swayed slowly.

A'hiyet placed her head upon the floor, shivering when his tongue traced along her neck. Her claws raked lightly at the ground and her thighs tightened in pleasure. She hoped he would go deeper, yet not too deeply...for now she was anxious that he might injure that which she suspected lay within her, new, yet growing more every day. She opened herself wider and mewed softly, relishing his answering groan. She wondered...she truly wondered...how he would feel once she knew for certain, and once she told him. Told him of the seed that she felt inside her, taking root, spreading its limbs as he spread her limbs, easing himself within.

The seed that Ameni himself had planted.

* * * * *

Thi'usa lifted his head to look over toward the other side of the room. Ameni and his new mate, the female, made no effort to hide themselves, though the room was dim. He scowled at the looks of pleasure upon their faces...how could they look such, when all of their lives were in danger of such disruption? Ever since the strange Kana, Tas'eta, had arrived, everything had changed. Even Mahakhi-Kana had ceded his possession of them to the stranger--an action Thi'usa could not so easily get over, considering all they had been through together. Ameni himself had accepted their fate--Ameni, who had been most treasured of all by Nehekhi-Master! So how could he so easily turn his back on their former master's last wishes...? Nehekhi had wanted them to stay with Mahakhi! Not with some strange pup!

He glanced to the side of the room to see how the others were affected, only to realize that they didn't seem to care by now. He spotted Kiakh flattened back against the wall, moaning and clutching at the mudbrick as his brother, Hiakh, slowly pushed up between his legs, caressing his lean hips. Tai'ihet was occupied with Ikua, the older Moru holding one of her legs aloft and grunting as he pushed into her from behind; she used one hand to support herself to avoid losing her balance, yet her other hand reached underneath her to stroke his testicles, a faint mew escaping her. Over here, a young male, into puberty, giggling as he rubbed himself against an older, bigger male, who smiled and gently stroked his back; their hands worked quickly up and down each other's shaft, and he could tell from their musk and from the sounds the young male let out that they would be ready to couple soon. In fact, he turned away, scowl growing, just as the older male eased his young partner down to the floor, smiling at him reassuringly the whole while he cupped him beneath, spreading him with his knees, licking his fingers and pressing them against his opening, then positioning himself and moving forward. Thi'usa did not see, but he did hear the low lusting growl of the older male, and the high-pitched, pained whine of the younger, before the room was filled with the sound of panting and the soft slap of flesh against flesh. The young male whimpered as they moved. Over in the corner, as if aroused by the sound, two more males approached a drowsing female and started to huddle over her, positioning themselves as she awoke, one member pressing into her mouth, one between her legs. And over here, a male and his mate, breathing softly after having already completed the act, their young child crawling up to snuggle between them as they dozed. All about Thi'usa, Moru life went on as always, some lost in pleasure, others simply lost in sleep. He gritted his teeth to hear Ameni groan softly in the dimness, A'hiyet giggling in return. Why did none of them even care?

He leaned back against the wall and fought back tears of frustration. He could hardly stand to be in this place anymore, though being threatened with leaving was exactly the reason why he was so angry. His own growing arousal only complicated this fact. He pressed his hand against his stirring kilt and tried to will the feeling away. It was not right to be so preoccupied, when there were bigger things to worry about now. His sheath didn't agree however, and he grimaced to himself, squeezing his legs together and wondering if it had been such a good idea to turn Mahakhi away.

The door opened slowly. A few of the Moru, curious as always, looked up, though those who were otherwise engaged, for the most part, didn't pay attention. Thi'usa lifted his head to see a Kana form appear, looking from left to right; he silently shut the door and made his way across the room, politely ignoring the mating couples. He stepped past Ameni and A'hiyet, who were busily rolling about with their legs entwined and hips rotating; only as he went by did Ameni finally notice him and gasp, glancing upwards and freezing in his motions. The Kana paid him no mind, however, merely glancing about the room as if curious, yet able to mind his own business. His gaze fell on Thi'usa, sitting by himself, and he paused before coming toward him. Thi'usa recognized him now and his muzzle started to wrinkle in a scowl.

Sergeant Binena stopped before him, looking him over. Thi'usa almost jumped when he knelt down before him so they were at the same level. The Kana cocked his head curiously.

"You are the one who was once Kana," he said quietly.

Thi'usa's muzzle wrinkled. "And if I am?"

A slight smile. "I had not meant to antagonize you. Forgive me. I was merely curious. I have yet to know personally any Moru who were once Kana."

"We do not know each other personally," Thi'usa said, and hoped he would take it as an argument. Apparently he did not, for he just smiled again. He gestured about the room.

"I notice that many of them are preoccupied," he said quietly. "To tell you the blunt truth, I had come here looking for one to pass my night with, myself. I was forced to leave my slave at home, where he will be safe. His name is Sakh'ta. I have owned him for five years."

Thi'usa felt like saying, "And so?" yet for some reason, the words refused to come. Instead he found himself asking, "You care for him? Much?"--and was surprised to find himself asking this.

Binena only smiled. "Yes, I do. He is my beloved Moru. I cannot remember a time now, when I was without him for long. I even worry about him, sometimes."

"It is the same with me," Thi'usa murmured. "Mahakhi-Master and myself...I cannot imagine being without him, now."

Binena tilted his head. He held out his arm, elbow crooked.

"Will you come with me? So we may walk?"

Thi'usa stared at him uncertainly. After a moment or two he reached out and looped his own arm about Binena's. They rose to their feet, and Binena led him toward the door. Thi'usa glanced at the rest of the Moru before turning back to watch where he was going, and he peered at Binena as he walked, opening the door again. A small part of him couldn't understand why he should be trusting the Kana of the enemy so much...yet he felt compelled, somehow, to go along with him. Thus they went, Thi'usa's poor mind roiling the entire way.

* * * * *

"My quarters are not in the best state of repair." Binena's voice was quiet as they walked down the hallway toward the guest quarters. Thi'usa peered at him with some curiosity, not used to any Kana other than Nehekhi or Mahakhi--and not even them, usually--talking with him so much. "I admit that I am not the best at unpacking and repacking," Binena continued. "So far, we have not intended to be here long, though plans may change."

"Your reason for being here," Thi'usa said, purposefully neglecting to add a title of respect; Binena glanced at him. "This is really as you say--? The reason the two of you gave when last in the Moru quarters--?"

The sergeant nodded. "Tas'eta-Kana thought it would be best to make the journey at such a time. He has been to see to Lord Nehekhi's body already, and has agreed that he should be interred in the western cliffs, yet wishes to see to the rest of his estate himself."

"He is...he is truly Lord Nehekhi's son, then?" Thi'usa asked. "And none other?"

Binena looked at him again. "Yes," he said, as if sensing no antagonism in Thi'usa's question. "He is."

Thi'usa frowned. "Lord Nehekhi never once spoke of him. And he told me everything he could about himself. Is there any way you can explain this?"

Binena arched a brow and Thi'usa bit his lip; his voice had come out sharper than he'd intended. Still, the Kana answered evenly. "I cannot give you an answer if I do not know one. What Lord Nehekhi spoke or did not speak of was none of my knowledge. I am certain Lord Tas'eta would be as puzzled as you. But from what little I learned of Lord Nehekhi through his letters, he was a private person. Perhaps he simply did not feel it was a matter to be discussed with his Moru."

Thi'usa bit the inside of his mouth. They reached Binena's quarters and the Kana pushed open the door, gesturing him inside. He almost stayed out in the hallway, instead.

"I still fail to understand," he said as they went inside, door shutting behind them. "Nehekhi-Master was never ashamed to speak of anything he had done. Especially not with his Moru. Why he would hide this from us makes no sense to me...Lord."

Binena shrugged. "And as I have told you, I do not understand either." His mouth twitched. "We may argue over this for the entire night if you wish...I may be patient."

Thi'usa scowled and pulled his arm away from the Kana. "I do not wish to be mocked," he muttered. "Should I ask for that, I will then gladly turn myself over to your master."

"You think he will mock you?" Binena looked surprised. Thi'usa didn't answer, simply walked over toward his bed and sat down upon it, wings hunched over his back. Binena stared at him for a moment with his brow furrowed before following. He sat down beside Thi'usa, and they remained that way in silence for some time. When he spoke again his voice was even quieter than before.

"If I have made a mistake in asking you to come tonight, please let me know so I may correct it somehow," he murmured. "I had not intended to evoke any difficult feelings..."

"No," Thi'usa said, and sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "This is not it. I am merely...in a short temper lately. You are not the cause."

Binena cocked his head. "If something presses upon your mind, you may tell me. Despite the impression I may have made upon you already, I actually speak little."

The Moru sighed again. He stared at the floor for a moment, trying to decide whether he should bother or not. He shook his head and met Binena's eyes, just barely a challenge.

"No...I do not feel like talking."

Binena shrugged, indicating that he had no problem with Thi'usa's decision. Thi'usa had almost wished he would argue, yet he didn't. His face flushed a little and he averted his eyes with some annoyance.

"Forgive me for forgetting my place, Lord, but may we simply do what we came here to do? I came because of that...truthfully. I have little mind for talking at the moment."

Another shrug. Binena moved slightly closer to him and after a pause placed his hand upon Thi'usa's; Thi'usa instinctively grasped his fingers back, even while the flush rose in his cheeks, and the anger fluttered in his breast.

"Is there any manner in which you prefer...?"

"No, no manner. Please. Just choose what you like."

Binena tilted his head a little and frowned, but Thi'usa couldn't meet his eyes anymore. Half of him still wished for sex, while half of him wished he had never left the Moru quarters. With the servant of his enemy, no less. Lust must have been addling his brain. Nevertheless, he still shut his eyes and let out a shaky sigh when he felt the Kana softly press his muzzle to his neck, snuffling behind his ear. The action sent a small shiver through him; he had never told anyone before, but he found it highly pleasurable to be nuzzled there, and the tension in his muscles slowly melted away. He allowed Binena to gently push him down to the bed without resistance, and though he expected the Kana to start kissing him, as his mates usually did at about this time, still he nuzzled behind Thi'usa's ear. Thi'usa couldn't help it. He whimpered and shivered, and after a moment reached up one hand to tentatively clutch Binena's arm. He clamped his legs together tightly at the pain he felt there, begging to be relieved; how foolish had he been to keep refusing Ameni and Mahakhi all those nights! As such, the agony was even greater than ever. He didn't know whether Binena intended on taking him, or having Thi'usa take him instead; he didn't care. Just as long as he did something, quickly.

Binena's kiss finally moved to the hollow of his throat, and up his neck to meet his mouth. Thi'usa opened and allowed him entry immediately, moaning into him. The Kana's hand slipped between his thighs to test his readiness, and he jerked and whimpered. His loincloth and the front of his kilt had grown wet and he knew he'd have to replace them. Not that it mattered now. He parted his legs on feeling the Kana's touch, and whimpered more loudly, indicating his desire to mate. Binena pulled Thi'usa's kilt up over his hips, untying his loincloth, and his penis rose from its sheath and stood thrusting out at the air, trembling expectantly. Fingers lightly ran over his sheath and testicles and he panted heavily. Judging from their position--he still lay upon his back, Binena coming over him--the Kana was likely more interested in Thi'usa mating him, from below. Accordingly he dug his heels into the bed and bent his knees, bracing himself in anticipation of Binena's weight upon him--but that didn't happen. Instead he let out an explosive gasp to feel himself enter something anyway--or rather, to feel something come around him. He jolted upward uncontrollably, once, then sank back and opened his eyes, tilting his head to the side to see what was going on. Binena still sat where he had before but now he leaned over Thi'usa, his face down against his lap. His mouth enveloped Thi'usa's length, tongue caressing and cheeks sucking softly. One hand rested against Thi'usa's hip.

Hakh'tua? That was admittedly the one thing Thi'usa hadn't thought of, he'd been so intent on getting himself inside something, anything. He shifted slightly and attempted to reach for Binena's kilt, even though their positions were not right; he could tell the Kana was excited, and managed to pull his kilt partly up and tug on his loincloth, to see that he had not yet fully emerged from his sheath, though it was thick and swollen and his tip peeked from within, a bead of fluid wetting it. He reached toward it, hoping to find some way to reach it without having to pull himself out of Binena's mouth--but Binena's other hand stopped him. Thi'usa looked up at him.

Binena didn't speak--couldn't speak, with his mouth thus preoccupied--but his eyes turned to look back at Thi'usa, and they seemed amused. He seemed to be indicating that he didn't wish for hakh'tua, or even ahi'akhta, in return; Thi'usa could only stare at him in dazed confusion. It didn't make any sense that he was willing to give it, yet not receive it. Perhaps he was only readying Thi'usa for nesakh'ai--?

That made sense. Thi'usa laid his head back, panting thickly. "Lord...if you wish me to come inside you, I'm sufficiently wet," he managed to say. "But you'd best do it quickly--I fear I may come before you are ready."

Binena didn't stop. He pulled his mouth away from Thi'usa, just for a moment, a strand of mixed seed and saliva trailing from his lips to the tip of Thi'usa's shaft; he smiled slightly, as if they shared some strange secret, before lowering his head again to lick at Thi'usa's sac. The Moru gasped and tensed. He gritted his teeth and tears sprang up into his eyes.

"Lord...if you wish for nesakh'ai I may not be able to hold it any longer--!!"

The Kana lifted his head, finally, and leaned back toward Thi'usa's face, still smiling. He ran his hand along the top of the Moru's head, and gently nuzzled by his ear, earning a shiver and a moan. Thi'usa opened his eyes to meet that strange, knowing look, and his heat and confusion only grew. Binena still refused to move, to place Thi'usa in his mouth, or...

"...You...you will place me beneath you, or...?" Thi'usa whispered, his breath husky, his eyes glazed.

Binena shook his head slowly. "No...why would I wish to do this? You are Kana, are you not?"

"What--?" Thi'usa's brow furrowed and his ears flared, and he looked at the other Apsiu as if he were insane. "No." He shook his head in turn. "I am not..."

Binena arched his brows. "I am gravely mistaken then...for I had assumed that at least a part of you still is. You speak like a Kana when addressing an inferior, at the least."

His mouth twitched and Thi'usa felt his ears grow hot. Binena smiled once more and touched his face, making the breath catch in his throat. He couldn't understand the feeling that started surging up inside him...but for some reason, he had the sudden urge to push Binena down on the bed and clamber atop him. The urge confused him; while he'd never disliked being the active one, he'd never felt quite so aggressive about it before. Except...but...that had been years ago; he had not felt like that since...

"Hakh'tua?" Binena murmured, tilting his head suggestively, then cupping Thi'usa in front. "This is how an inferior shows respect for their superior, isn't it...?"

The heat, the pain, the strange urge flowed up into Thi'usa's breast. His breath came quick. He readied himself to tell Binena how wrong he was, but all that came out was a husky growl. He nearly started at the sound, it was so foreign to him, especially now that he was with a Kana--yet it felt right. So he didn't hold it back, simply let it come as instinct let it. He bared his teeth and wrinkled his muzzle, and the reek of his musk became overwhelming.

Binena blinked, perhaps surprised by the reaction, before relaxing. His slight smile returned. He said nothing, as Thi'usa had been starting to expect him to, but rather leaned back toward his lap. Raw aggression took Thi'usa over; he clutched Binena's head and pushed him against his crotch, thrusting upwards with a grunt. His muscles quivered as he repeated the gesture, again, and again; aside from a tightening of Binena's grip upon his hip, he did nothing to pull away or indicate displeasure. For the moment, at least, Thi'usa truly forgot his place. He felt as he had once felt, training in the Kana barracks, in the time when he himself had been known as a soldier of good repute and ability. He pushed himself to sit upright, his thighs tightening at the feeling of Binena's mouth around him; then with a bit of an awkward struggle he pushed himself up more so he crouched upon all fours, with the Kana placed upon his back beneath him, sucking at him as a calf sucks at its mother's teat. His tail flicked from side to side and his wings fanned upward as if he could still fly with them; for the moment he forgot that he couldn't. With a series of hasty grunts he started propelling himself forward, rocking on his knees. Binena was the one to brace himself to tolerate Thi'usa's weight and the pressure within his throat, grasping his thighs and moving with him so as not to choke. Thi'usa thrust rapidly into his mouth, shutting his eyes and growling loudly at the air. He lifted one hand, held the Kana to him more tightly; then let go to support himself as he felt the familiar swelling surge within him. He bucked and his buttocks quivered; he arched his back and let out a guttural sound, the swelling reducing, his warm seed flooding Binena's waiting throat. Binena, for his part, still clung to Thi'usa's legs, his mouth working as he milked every drop away; Thi'usa groaned and began to sink, his wings folding, his tight muscles loosening. Just at the last moment did he remember to roll himself over to avoid falling upon his mate, and he collapsed instead upon his back, panting weakly at the canopy.

Binena lay down beside him but propped himself up on one elbow, caressing his chest. Thi'usa glanced toward him to see that he was still swollen, behind his kilt; yet he made no move to do anything further. He couldn't understand it.

"Why...why did you do this?" he murmured. "Why did you treat me like a Kana, give me hakh'tua as if you had owed it...?"

"I did not owe it," Binena replied quietly. "Yet you are Kana."

Thi'usa furrowed his brow and shook his head. "You are mistaken. I am not...I have not been, since they slashed my wing. I am Moru."

Binena shrugged. "Under our law, yes, you are...yet a part of you is still a warrior...and despite what you may think, it is still just as deserving of respect as it once was." The sergeant leaned down to gently nuzzle at him again, earning a shiver. "I do not believe Lord Nehekhi nor Lord Mahakhi would have ever forced you."

"No," Thi'usa said, with a bit of a start. "They did not."

"Then they recognized what I did, on first espying you. I will hardly treat a comrade as a Moru."

Thi'usa trembled. His emotions conflicted with one another; he had been Moru for so long that he was no longer certain how to act as a Kana. Yet his reaction to Binena's touch had been exactly as expected. He'd thought his days as a Kana were too long ago to ever properly remember, that he had been a complete Moru, and would be, for the rest of his life.

Could it be that a part of the Kana still existed within him? Deep down, only waiting to be brought out by the right actions...?

He continued staring at the canopy, uncertain of what to think anymore. He sighed and shut his eyes at the feeling of Binena lightly stroking down his breast; he was only dimly aware that with his other hand, the Kana was rubbing his own sheath, his breath picking up only slightly and his eyes glazing a bit as he strove to satisfy himself. Thi'usa shut his eyes and held out his hand, touching his companion. Binena's fingers wrapped around his and the two of them stroked up and down, gathering speed, until he was certain that, should they have been coupling, the Kana would have been pursuing his needs as aggressively as Thi'usa had. After a moment or two Binena grunted softly and the front of his kilt grew wet, their entwined fingers growing sticky. Thi'usa dropped his hand and Binena held it, and they both lay upon their backs, side by side upon the bed. The Moru listened to the sound of their breathing combined, thought about what had happened, how he'd come to be here. If it meant anything at all.

After some time his brow furrowed, eyes still shut, and he sighed. Binena's fingers squeezed his own just slightly to indicate that he'd heard it, but he said nothing. His silence prompted Thi'usa to speak; had the Kana given his thoughts a voice, he felt he never would have been able to speak up, for some reason.

"I do not know if I can go with him...I truly do not know if I can."

He sensed, rather than saw, Binena turning his head to look at him. Aside from this, a questioning look, no other response. Thi'usa opened his eyes and stared upwards.

"Lord Tas'eta. I am not certain if I can go with him, if he claims us."

A pause. Then, "Lord Tas'eta does not favor males as his mates, should this be a worry of yours..."

Thi'usa shook his head. "This is not it...truly. I am not afraid of him, even if that were his preference...I believe you when you tell me he is Nehekhi-Master's son...and I do not hate him, despite what the others may believe...I could never hate the son of Lord Nehekhi. Yet...I do not think I can go with him. The thought...the thought of leaving here now, without my master, terrifies me. I...I simply do not think I am ready for yet another master, so soon." He shut his eyes again. "You have no means of knowing, Lord, but so many things have happened...before and since I came to be here...I cannot simply rise and leave it all as if it were nothing. Which is why if he claims his Moru, I do not think I can go with him or with you."

It was much to say, and dangerous as well, for a Moru to defy his master or his servants...yet, but moments before, this one had insisted on treating him as a Kana...thus it was as a Kana that he spoke, no matter how much it pained him to say it. For a long time Binena was silent, staring at him with his head resting upon one hand; after a while his gaze lowered slightly and he ran his fingers up Thi'usa's belly, to his breast. Thi'usa sighed.

"There are things and people here you cannot leave behind..."

Thi'usa nodded. "This is my old tribe--my first tribe. When we found ourselves in Mahakhi-Kana's hands again, I truly felt it meant something. That I was meant to return here. If it had not been Mahakhi-Kana who took us in, I do not think I could have stayed." A pained look flitted across his face. "He is the only one who makes me feel safe, now that Nehekhi-Kana is gone. He protected us before--I know he always will. I do not say Tas'eta-Kana cannot...but he is a strange Kana and I do not know him." He turned his head to meet Binena's eyes. "You are his servant! Right--? I am just one meager Moru. He could surely do without me--couldn't he? I saw how he treated his female--he's not interested in many Moru. Surely you can convince him to leave me behind...?"

Binena cocked his ear. "What then of the rest of the Moru...? I was under the impression that you were close to them..."

Thi'usa opened his mouth, then found that his voice had vanished. He gave the Kana a stricken look, unable to respond.

He--he is right! If I stay behind--they will still all go! Tai'ihet--Ki'amit-Moru--Ameni-mate--!

How do I choose between them--? What do I do--?

He shut his mouth and a panicked whimper escaped him. Binena's ears flared; a moment later Thi'usa shut his eyes when he felt the Kana touch his face, stroking his fur as if trying to settle a spooked Sha. Thi'usa bit his lip and tried to will the feeling away, but he couldn't. The thought of being without Mahakhi, or without Ameni and Ki'amit and the others, was more than he could bear.

Binena placed his muzzle to his ear. "I will speak with him," he whispered. "He is not a stubborn one; perhaps he may agree to some sort of arrangement that will leave everyone happy. Do not worry about this. I promise."

Thi'usa opened his eyes. He turned his head to look at Binena, somewhat surprised, but the Kana merely smiled again, and said nothing more. He couldn't put his question into words, and so didn't attempt it; though his eyes did blur somewhat. He let out his breath, trying again to still his anxiety, and found that the Kana's words had managed to calm him, somewhat. Binena pushed himself up a little higher and gave Thi'usa a questioning look in return.

"I had almost forgotten to ask," he said. "Would you like me to take you back to the other Moru, or..."

"No," Thi'usa murmured. He let out his breath and gave the sergeant a meek look. "If...if you don't mind, I should like to stay here tonight...if this is not too great a thing to ask."

Binena stared at him for a moment, then smiled slightly and lifted one shoulder. He reached to the head of the bed to pull down a few pillows, and Thi'usa allowed him to settle him into the bed, his arms looping around him so Thi'usa's head rested against his breast. He'd had no idea how tired he was, and fell asleep before he could tell if Binena was doing the same.

Continue:

"Part 48: Alliance" 


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