Part 48: Alliance

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 48 and be on the lookout for updates to the next parts!


THE LONG LOW note of the alert rang across the quiet city. The few Kana who were walking along the streets jerked their heads about to look toward the gate, before hurrying in that direction. The noise was not an alarm, yet still they gripped at their swords and daggers as they went, wings flaring anxiously. With their tribe as decimated as it was, any sort of visitor could pose a problem.

Captain Khanef came out of the tavern he had been in, craning his neck and then jogging ahead. He nudged a few Kana out of the way and climbed up the ladder to the top of the wall, shielding his eyes.

"Who is it--?"

The trumpet-bearer pointed. "Coming from the east, Lord. Just a little party."

Khanef turned his head to look. The dusty shapes of about a dozen or so Kana were moving across the sand, from the direction of the river. Khanef watched them progress before waving at the trumpet-bearer.

"Sound the alert again."

The other Kana obeyed, and the long note droned throughout the tribe. Khanef squinted at the small party of approaching Kana. The lieutenant in the lead held up his sword to point skyward, then another one of their number jumped down from his Sha and ran ahead of them, waving his own sword. Khanef frowned as he hopped across the sand almost frantically, then sighed and waved at the trumpet-bearer again.

"All right, let it be. It's the messenger...I assume they are of the Yellow Sands Tribe."

"Yes, Lord..."

Khanef stood and watched their progress a bit longer, then climbed back down the ladder and waited inside while the gate began creaking open. He peered outside to get a better look at the lieutenant leading the group; he didn't like the look on his face, and flared his nostrils. As soon as the young sergeant spotted him he came running again, waving his sword wildly over his head.

"Lord--! Lord--! It's me--!"

Khanef nodded at him sharply, hating to nudge him inside when he came up to the gate yet having to do so nonetheless. "I know, I know--head on back to the general's household and report in so they know you are well. Very good work." The messenger furrowed his brow but saluted and obeyed, wings sinking as he jogged off; Khanef winced and turned back to the others, who were climbing off of their Sha by now. The lead lieutenant gave him a look as he grasped the reins and approached, and Khanef frowned openly this time. As soon as the strange Kana noticed his look his mouth twitched as if he were amused, and Khanef had to keep from scowling.

The lieutenant put his arm to his breast and bowed his head slightly, the second lieutenant and the others in their group following suit. Khanef nodded. "Greetings, Lord. I am Lieutenant Elite She'hekha, and this is Lieutenant Elite Fa'rukha. We are first and second lieutenant to General Nehara of the Yellow Sands Tribe."

Khanef nodded again. "Captain Elite Khanef, in service to General Nahus. I take it you are the delegates sent to speak with us regarding our difficulty with the Great Red Tribe."

She'hekha nodded. "You would be correct. Our general has decided to address your general as a brother, and to ally our tribes against this common enemy." He held out his arm as he spoke. "And so whenever you are ready, we will go to speak with him..."

Khanef turned away, ignoring the gesture. "Follow," he said shortly, and started walking.

He had not turned away quite in time to miss seeing the look of surprise flicker across the lieutenant's face, then his mouth twitched again. As soon as he started walking, the other Kana was keeping pace with him, and he heard the footfalls of the rest of them behind; the guards wandered off with their Sha, taking them to the stables. Khanef's sandals thwacked against the hard ground as he strode.

"I take it you do not care much for us," She'hekha mused aloud.

"You would be correct," Khanef echoed him, not bothering to look his way.

She'hekha smirked. "The feeling is quite mutual, in case you had worried."

"I had not, but thank you for clearing that matter up."

"This is no bother. It is always best to have something in common with one's allies."

"Temporary allies," Khanef corrected him, at last glaring at him from the corner of his eye. "Keep this in mind, while you are within our city."

She'hekha looked at him for a moment before smiling openly, and Khanef found that he liked that least of all. "Very well," he said. "I will keep this in mind."

Khanef dug his claws into his palms as he walked, taking deep breaths to try to quell the anger surging up inside him. She'hekha lagged a bit, then picked up his pace, glancing to the side. "It would be too much to ask that we wet our tongues a bit before attempting eloquence with your commander--?" he inquired; Khanef halted abruptly, glancing at him. The lieutenant raised an eyebrow; Khanef looked back at the rest of the Kana and noticed again how dusty they were. None of them whined or made faces, but She'hekha did put his hand on his hip and tap his foot, nodding his head toward the nearest tavern.

Khanef blinked, then scowled. He thought of just taking them on toward the general's house, then thought again of dealing with a dozen pissy Kana, and turned, shoving She'hekha aside with his shoulder as he crossed the street. "Fine," he snapped. "Briefly. Because they will be expecting you at the general's house."

"We may do briefly," She'hekha replied, and gestured at the rest of the men. They followed Khanef into the tavern, which was mostly empty at this time of the day, considering the tribe's state; the tavernkeep blinked at his sudden deluge of customers, before gawking and then hurrying into the back room to retrieve more jars of beer. Khanef stood and waited until the Yellow Sands Kana had all seated themselves around two of the short tables before sitting down himself, at a third table. The tavernkeep appeared with two large jars under his arms, and promptly set them down; he bowed at Khanef, who jerked his head toward the others; then he bowed at She'hekha and Fa'rukha.

"Greetings, Lords. If I might interest you in some wine...?"

She'hekha shook his head. "This will do." He dug out some silver rings and tossed them on the table; Khanef frowned when the tavernkeep's eyes goggled. The payment was more than enough to pay for an entire round on one of the tavern's best days. The old Kana had snatched up the rings and disappeared before they could even get the jars open.

"So a captain shows up at the main gate to answer an alert," She'hekha said as he broke the clay seal and started pouring. "And a captain elite, at that. This is truly the state your tribe is in...?"

Khanef wrinkled his muzzle. "If you found any reason to doubt the message, you need only take a look around you. The rest of the Kana aren't hiding, if that's what you were wondering."

She'hekha finished pouring his drink last and took a sip. "I wasn't, but considering our tribes' history with each other, I would not put it past them."

Khanef's claws dug into his palms again. "You are the one striving to open old wounds, Lieutenant; so remember that a fight is perfectly acceptable within a tavern."

"I had no such goal in mind," She'hekha returned. "In fact I have more than my share of things to keep me preoccupied. You, on the other hand, seem rather on edge." He nudged a cup toward Khanef. "Go right ahead. I won't let anyone know."

"If I drink it," Khanef said, "I may say some things I will later regret."

She'hekha's mouth twitched. "Go ahead then, and unfetter your tongue. Remember, this is a tavern, as you said."

Khanef pushed the cup away. "I do not accept drinks from the enemy."

The lieutenant shrugged and took a drink. "Your own loss. Though I had thought it better, if you had a drink in you to excuse your pissy attitude today."

Khanef bared his tusks. "Odd, but I had just been thinking the same thing of you. I would have thought you'd drunk yourself silly before you even arrived, judging by your demeanor. Unless this is how you always act."

She'hekha nodded. "This is true. Ask any of them." He waved at the rest of the Kana, who smirked and took a drink of their own beer. Khanef looked at the second lieutenant but he merely shook his head and sipped.

"I am not involved," Fa'rukha stated, not even bothering to look at him.

Khanef turned his attention back to She'hekha. "So you freely admit you are always such a prick--? I find it odd then that your general saw fit to send you as a peace delegate. What is the matter, your father didn't spank you enough as a pup?"

She'hekha smiled. "Actually, that's about the only thing he didn't do." He took a drink.

"Unfortunate," Khanef snorted. "Because you could have used it." He sat back and hunched his wings. "Keep in mind that you are here to offer assistance against the Great Red Tribe--and this is it. We certainly do not have to like each other, and we do not have to remain allies. After this task is completed, you will return to your own tribe, and leave us to ours. This is the only reason why you have been allowed within here."

She'hekha took another drink and flared his ear. "Very well. I see you have your priorities straight. Until today, I had always thought the River Tribe unable to comprehend such a concept as a straight battle."

Khanef's ears flicked, and within an instant he was on his feet, drawing his sword to level it at She'hekha's neck. Before he could, however, he noticed that Lieutenant Fa'rukha had leapt up just as quickly, and his sword was already poised, its blade aimed at Khanef's chest. The captain felt a twinge in his sword arm and ground his teeth together.

"I thought you were not involved," he grated.

She'hekha just took another drink. "My watchdog," he commented. "Though through no will of my own."

Khanef just stared Fa'rukha in the eyes. The other Kana stared back, his own eyes hard and unafraid; his grip on his sword was perfectly steady, so that he looked like a statue, yet Khanef could tell from the tension in his muscles that he could have jabbed out his heart already had he really wanted to. Although it chafed him he slowly pulled his sword back, sliding it back into its scabbard; Fa'rukha paused just slightly before stepping down. The rest of the Yellow Sands Kana watched them as if in great curiosity, though She'hekha seemed more interested in his drink. Khanef flared his nostrils but grudgingly sat back down, and after another moment Fa'rukha put his sword away and followed suit, reaching for his own drink. She'hekha took a sip and stretched his wing.

"I see that I touched a sore spot," he commented, as if nothing had happened at all. "Sore spots are often so because there is a bit of truth to them."

Khanef growled this time. "Your watchdog might protect your neck once, but I can still get in a lucky swing. I suggest you learn to modify your words when in the presence of an enemy, however ill matched."

The lieutenant turned his head to look at him this time. He stared at Khanef for a moment, then smiled slightly. "I see," he said, lifting his cup. "You were involved in that battle." He took a sip. "You cannot be much older than I am...and so how old were you then...eighteen? Nineteen? Nineteen is a good decent age, to take part in a battle."

"You are the one claiming this knowledge," Khanef growled. "Not me."

She'hekha laughed. "Actually, I was a terribly lousy soldier back then; but I've picked up some talents in the meantime." Another sip. "Fa'rukha here though was quite skilled. Perhaps the two of you met, even--? Though I doubt you would have paid much attention to him, considering that this was not the intent of any of your tribe at that time."

Khanef couldn't help it; he put his hand on his pommel, even though Fa'rukha and the rest of the Kana but for She'hekha had already done so. "Keep talking," he said in a dangerous voice. "I have practically nothing left to lose, as it is."

"Rest easy, Captain." She'hekha looked at him over the rim of his cup, then wiped at his mouth and reached for the jar. "Insulting you was not the reason why I asked to come here. You cannot fault me for asking what your exact plans for combat are, if we are to be fighting alongside one another this time. I am genuinely interested whether you wish to plan a sneak attack, as you did the last time we met in battle."

Khanef's muzzle wrinkled. "I am not the one who planned it! Get your facts straight! And this was hardly the underhanded tactic you seem to remember it as!"

"That is what they've all been telling you?" She'hekha set down the jar and pushed himself around to face him, locking his fingers. "Allow me to fill you in on what they've been telling us. Your tribe, your illustrious River Tribe, only gained their reputation through the use of cowardly sneak attacks and intimidation. If you had merely kept yourselves to raiding hostile tribes in defense, or to secure goods, perhaps you would have earned the honorable title you were deluded into thinking you possess. However, raiding sleeping tribes, and peaceful tribes, just to kill off their Kana, and take Moru and goods you do not even need, is not exactly the way to gain such a spotless reputation."

"We needed Moru and goods just as badly as any other tribe," Khanef retorted. "Get YOUR facts straight! There is nothing new or sneaky about attacking from the dark! If your tribe had not been so negligent in setting up night guards, perhaps then you could blame the victor in such a battle!"

"Battle." She'hekha started laughing. "All right, so this is what the Great Red Tribe engaged you in. Funny how it works both ways with you Kana."

Khanef snarled and leapt to his feet. Fa'rukha's swordtip poked at his throat; with another snarl he batted it away, slashing open his arm. He took a tiny amount of pleasure in the surprised look on the second lieutenant's face before turning his attention to She'hekha. "Go on speaking!" he exclaimed, tusks flashing. "What your tribe did in return was little better! At the least, we engaged you in combat! Every Kana was equally matched! We dispatched your men as they fought, and we took NO prisoners! You can hardly say the same of your own tribe!"

She'hekha took a sip. "The taking of prisoners is not new, as you yourself would say, and it is standard practice during war."

Khanef's fists tightened in rage. "And so is torturing them mercilessly?" he snarled. He jabbed a hand down at the lieutenant. "Four good Kana! I want you to remember this number! This is the number of Kana I knew PERSONALLY who your tribe captured and treated as even less than Moru! The physician examined their bodies afterward--they had been cut up--their ears slashed off--their muzzles sliced and their wings torn to ribbons. Their bones broken! All of this, as they lived! One had his eye gouged out! Another one's teeth were all missing! And the other two..." He trailed off, unable to bring himself to finish; he bared his tusks again and dug his claws into his pommel. "If it had not been for their lappets we never would have identified them. Because rather than hand over their bodies, your general saw fit to toss them into the desert like garbage!" He swung his sword and knocked the jar of beer off of the table; it smashed against the floor and everyone, save She'hekha, jumped. "FOUR good Kana! If this is the number of the ones who I knew, I hate to think how many OTHERS your tribe slaughtered and then tossed into the desert as if they were nothing! And you speak to me now of dishonor?"

She'hekha picked up his cup. "Rest easy," he said again, with a sip. "Four 'good Kana' was all it was." He lowered the cup again. "And am I to believe that this recent attack was completely unprovoked? Our general mentioned Captain Sut'khut...and I remember him, as well." He smiled. "Has he cut down any more helpless Moru since then?"

Khanef stared at him venomously before letting out his breath through his nose. He forced his knees to bend, and sat back down; Fa'rukha took a step back but didn't follow suit this time. "Captain Sut'khut is dead," Khanef muttered. "And rest assured that when he took the tribe with him, he did not do so with everyone's assent. Captain Fe'kheru himself has spoken against Sut'khut on numerous occasions. He did not speak for the tribe, and his misguided actions did not warrant what happened."

She'hekha cocked an ear. "Well...at least this is more than I am accustomed to hearing from the River Tribe!" he exclaimed, setting his cup back down. He leaned his elbows on his knees. "So you admit that you are fallible, and that you can make mistakes. Pity that you could not have done this before Sut'khut led your tribe away to its demise."

"If I had had the final say," Khanef returned, "I would have lopped his head off myself, and saved everyone the trouble."

She'hekha blinked. Then he started laughing. Khanef sat scowling but held his tongue. She'hekha finally wiped at his eyes and smirked at him.

"I know you did not intend it," he said, "but with every moment, I am liking you more." Khanef's muzzle wrinkled in disgust but the lieutenant was too busy getting to his feet to notice; he waved at the rest of the Kana and they stood as well, finishing off their beers. Khanef got to his feet and She'hekha put his arm to his breast.

"With your leave, then, we will go and speak with your general. Now I know how low this tribe has been put, when it is willing to admit its mistakes." He turned to the door and the rest of the Kana filed after him, Khanef waiting until they were almost out before following, still having to hold his tongue in check.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Meteri paced the halls of General Nahus's household. He had been doing thus for a good half hour now, uncertain of how long Captain Fe'kheru would be preoccupied. The messenger who had been sent eastward had returned to the tribe, dusty and panting, and had told him of the arrival of the representatives of the Yellow Sands Tribe. Meteri knew they would soon make their way to the household to speak with the captain, the one left surviving with the highest rank. Besides their general...but the general was old and infirm, possibly to die very soon. Meteri did not believe he would be alive to see the next possible step in their plans.

Perhaps, with the way things had gone with the Great Red Tribe, that would be for the best...

He sighed and leaned against the wall. It was taking the delegates quite a while just to get here. From inside Fe'kheru's rooms he could hear giggling, and he had to suppress a slight smile. Well, at least someone was enjoying themselves.

The faint upturn of his mouth disappeared when he thought next that there might not be any enjoyment for any of them, for long...

Another noise came from the far end of the hall. Meteri's head jerked up to see a group of Kana approaching, one of his own tribe in the lead. He didn't recognize the others. He turned away and hurried for Fe'kheru's door, knocking softly, and when that didn't rouse his commander, he pushed his way inside. Within, Fe'kheru's Moru, Ikhi'et, lay giggling upon the pillows with her nipples peaking hard and pink while the captain pushed into her, his legs wrapped around hers and a smile upon his face. Meteri barely glanced at them before he shut the door silently behind him and listened at it for a moment, trying to hear the speech of the approaching visitors.

The first voice he recognized as that of one of the trainees who had been set to guarding the doors. Apparently he had intercepted the party. "...Usually busy about this time of the eve, Lords," he was saying, "yet Lieutenant Meteri should be about somewhere as well; perhaps you might speak with him first of all, as he serves Lord Fe'kheru directly."

"I had thought we had come to speak with your general?" an unfamiliar voice prompted. "What has become of this plan?"

"Forgiveness, Lord, but our general is very ill and cannot receive visitors. He may lie upon his deathbed as we speak..."

"Meteri?"

Meteri turned his head. Fe'kheru had finally noticed him, and while he had his commander's attention, the captain still didn't cease his lovemaking. He supported himself above Ikhi'et with his hands but continued to breathe heavily and move his hips; Ikhi'et, for her part, reddened and brought her arms up to cover her breasts. Meteri bowed quickly.

"Apologies for interrupting, Lord."

"I have never known you to go hiding about in others' rooms," Fe'kheru said. "What makes you act thus today--?"

"Delegates from the Yellow Sands Tribe, Lord. They've arrived."

"This early?" Fe'kheru frowned in confusion. "I had thought they were not due until tomorrow!"

Meteri shrugged. "This is apparently what we all thought, Lord! Yet they have arrived. They are just outside in the hallway. What should you like me to do?"

The captain sighed and stopped moving. He lifted one hand to rub his eyes. "Very well...go out and speak with them, and let them know I'll be out shortly. I will come as soon as I can."

"Of course, Lord." Meteri turned back for the door, knowing he had to buy his commander at least a few more moments. How could he rightfully expect him to cease his actions in the middle of his enjoyment? It would be a most rude thing to do.

He slipped out of the door, into the hallway, just as the other Kana came close. They still talked as they came, not noticing him at first.

"...Captain Fe'kheru is as able a leader as our general once was," the sergeant droned, "and even more so, now that he is aware of the abilities of this Red Tribe--"

The Kana who had been speaking ceased when he sensed Meteri watching and stopped, turning his head. The stranger Kana cocked their heads to look at him and he put his arm to his breast, bowing his head.

"Apologies, Lords, for keeping you waiting," he said. "I am Lieutenant Meteri. We had not expected your presence so soon."

The lead Kana frowned. "You are Lieutenant Meteri...?" He looked him up and down somewhat skeptically, then crossed his arms. "Forgive me but I had thought you would be somewhat older."

Meteri forced himself not to scowl. "Yes, I am Lieutenant Meteri," he replied in as even a voice as he could muster, "and I am fully capable of speaking on Lord Fe'kheru's behalf."

The other Kana simply flared his nostrils. "Very well. Though I'm growing tired of being shuttled down the ranks--first the general, then a captain, now a lieutenant. Why you do not let him speak for you--" here he waved at the sergeant, who blinked and flushed "--I do not know."

Meteri did scowl now. "You wish to speak with him, or not--?"

The other Kana nodded with an exaggerated sigh. "Very well. We are ready to speak with him directly."

"You will actually have to wait a moment or two as he is busy. We were not expecting your arrival until tomorrow."

The other lieutenant lifted one shoulder nonchalantly. "We made much better progress than we had thought we might. You said you speak for Captain Fe'kheru, is it?"

Meteri bowed again. "Yes, Lord."

"I am Lieutenant She'hekha. This is Lieutenant Fa'rukha, and a few of my men. We had heard you have had a...problem...with a neighboring tribe."

"This is so, Lords. Will you please accompany me to the main courtyard?"

"Main courtyard?" She'hekha tilted his head and his muzzle twitched. "I thought we had come to speak with your superior and to go over plans. He is suddenly indisposed--?"

"Well, Lord..."

Meteri didn't get to think of an excuse. She'hekha nudged past him toward the door before Meteri could stop him, though he tried, letting out a startled yell. Too late, the door swung open and all the Kana in the hall--those of the River Tribe as well as those of the visiting tribe--were treated to an excellent view of the elder captain mating his female. Some time after Meteri had left them, he had turned her over, apparently to finish the act more conveniently; thus as they watched he rode atop her hips, his own hugging her tight as his hands clutched her shoulders. Meteri cringed. He could tell that Fe'kheru noticed them, though he gave no sign; Ikhi'et, on the other hand, did see the gawking males, and let out a cry of embarrassment. She lowered herself to the bed to cover her breasts again, yet could do nothing else to conceal herself from their view. Her face screwed up and she started mewing, tears filling her eyes.

She'hekha blinked. Meteri jumped in front of him and held out his arms at his sides. "Lord, please!" he barked. "I was about to tell you that Lord Fe'kheru is busy right now, but he should be done shortly, if you will only wait!"

The lieutenant blinked again. "Yes...this is certainly...true." He shook his head and a grin slowly came to his face. He waved at the two within and snickered. "Tell him to take his time then, if this is what keeps him busy," he said. "I can very patiently wait in cases like this!"

Still snickering, he turned away from the door, gesturing at his men to do the same. But for Fa'rukha--who was covering his muzzle and trying not to laugh--they followed only reluctantly; Meteri could tell that they were either aroused or amused, he was not certain which, yet he knew it was at least one and possibly both. He scowled and bowed at Fe'kheru as he pulled the door shut once more. He was relieved by the sympathetic look his superior gave him, even as he heaved and grunted, making Ikhi'et cry out again. The door cut off most of her yell, but the rising scream that followed it echoed clearly down the hall. The Kana with She'hekha started laughing out loud until their commander waved at them to be quiet. He turned about and faced Meteri, the hint of a smile still tugging at his lips.

"Well, I am assuming, unless he is interested in dessert, that he will be with us shortly," he said. "In the meantime I might as well speak with you after all. I have been told that you now serve as Lord Fe'kheru's second?"

"Yes, Lord, this is true."

"And so you know most of what has been going on recently, I pray. Your visitor to our tribe told us in some detail of an attack you suffered from the Great Red Tribe, to the south. This is correct?"

"Yes, Lord."

"We were informed that they killed off most of your good warriors, leaving you with Moru and women to care for the town. How is it then that you and your captain have survived?"

"My lord and I were away from the settlement while this happened, but yes, this is the account we have been given. The Great Red Tribe did not attack our town however. Many of our number were sent to attack them, and were killed in the process. More died as they tried to flee. From the looks of it, some were slaughtered as they ran. We could tell this by the bloodstains and markings upon the sand along the desert road. Their bodies were laid out in plain sight but they were not desecrated."

"Still, they are dead, and your tribe is nearly in the same shape. Your captain has done his homework to know that we ourselves have had a history with this tribe. We have had no contact for years, yet the sting of the past blows they have dealt us is still fresh. I assume, in all good faith, that the reason your emissary came was to attempt a partnership between our tribes."

"From what I have been told of your tribe, Lord, you have had much experience in the types of fighting needed that we have not. Your numbers would greatly help us. You also know the Great Red Tribe much better than we do. We had hoped that, should the two of us join, we would be able to be rid of them thoroughly."

She'hekha nodded. "You are not quite so wet behind the ears as I had assumed you would be," he said, and Meteri felt his ears burn. She'hekha looked up when Fe'kheru's door opened and the captain emerged, smoothing down a fresh set of clothes. The lieutenant nearly smirked again, and bowed, as if to hide it. Fe'kheru nodded and he stood straight again.

"Forgiveness for barging in on you, Lord," She'hekha said. He waved vaguely at Meteri. "To his credit, your lieutenant did try to dissuade me, but I was impatient."

"This is a trifling matter, easily forgiven," Fe'kheru replied. He glanced over the visitor's men and nodded at them when they saluted. "Lord Meteri has filled you in on our situation, then? With our neighbors to the south?"

"Yes, Captain. My own general has sent us to assist you with your problem." She'hekha waved at the Kana with him. "They are our best warriors. There are as many more waiting back at home as you may need. General Nehara has granted me permission to lead his army on his behalf. We are at your beck and call should you request it."

"He has told you yet that we plan an attack upon the Great Red Tribe? In vengeance for our losses?"

"He has not said so much, Lord, though it is only what I suspected. Revenge must be exacted upon our enemies if we are to remain strong."

Fe'kheru nodded again, face grave. "Very well. Please accompany us to the main courtyard where we shall dine as we go over the finer details."

She'hekha bowed once more. "We have already taken drink at the tavern, which delayed us, but we have yet to take food. So we welcome your hospitality."

The captain nodded once more, and gestured at Meteri. The group of Kana turned as one and headed away from the private quarters, back down the hall.

* * * * *

"And so your general is not so unkindly disposed toward our tribe as we had feared he would be," Fe'kheru said, as he and the rest of the Kana sat upon the tiles in the main courtyard, sipping wine and eating figs and bread. The Yellow Sands Kana, but for She'hekha and Fa'rukha, were busily devouring all that they could, and barely even listening to the proceedings; Meteri frowned at them a few times but Fe'kheru politely ignored them, as did She'hekha. The captain took a drink of his own wine. "We had thought that perhaps this request of ours would be met by deaf ears."

"General Nehara is not so thoughtless as you would believe," She'hekha replied with a sip of his own. "He does not forget the bad blood between us, yet he believes that we too could benefit from such an alliance. All he asks in return is two things, one of them being the lion's share of the spoils to be had."

Fe'kheru shook his head. "We have no interest in gathering spoils...and so you are more than welcome to whatever you can carry. Our only interest is in preserving what little remains of our tribe, by ensuring that we are not again attacked."

She'hekha reached for a cake. "I was informed that your tribe was not attacked in the first place," he said as he bit into it. Meteri frowned at him.

Fe'kheru shook his head again. "No, we were not. Yet this utterly complete annihilation of Captain Sut'khut's forces was not warranted. We have every reason to believe the Great Red Tribe should return to finish the job they have started--and this is the reason why we seek your assistance."

"You do not agree with Captain Sut'khut's tactics?"

"Captain Sut'khut was a brilliant military strategist, and a skilled fighter," Fe'kheru replied. "Yet his ego was the size of the western cliffs, and his common sense was the size of a gnat."

She'hekha started laughing out loud, spitting crumbs out of his mouth. Fa'rukha rolled his eyes and took a drink of wine while Meteri scowled. "Well--at least you are honest. My opinion of your tribe has increased tenfold since first arriving." He wiped his mouth and took a drink of wine. "There was one other thing General Nehara was interested in."

Fe'kheru tilted his head in question.

She'hekha pointed at him as he lowered his cup. "Your lappets." When the captain frowned at him in puzzlement he gestured at his own. "He should like for you to remove them."

"What?" This came from Meteri; the young lieutenant shot to his feet, fists clenched. Everyone else looked up at him and he bared his teeth at the other lieutenant.

"What sort of crass request is this?" he snarled. "Our tribe has been slaughtered and your general seeks even more humiliation for us--? Tell him he can choke on his own lappets if he so likes!"

"Meteri!" Fe'kheru exclaimed, in such a voice that the youth cringed, ears flaring back. "That is enough!"

Meteri scowled, but hunched his wings in toward himself and sat back down unhappily.

Fe'kheru turned back to She'hekha, still frowning. "Might I ask you to clarify on this request?" he said.

"It is just as it sounds like," She'hekha replied. "General Nehara asks that if you truly seek our assistance, you remove your lappets for but a moment, and then place them back on. That is all he wished you to do. He would never go so far as to ask you to toss away your lappets forever. As I said, he is not entirely thoughtless."

Meteri started growling. Fe'kheru's own frown deepened and he flared his wings.

"So, your general is in fact more sore at heart than I had thought...? His reason for such a request?"

She'hekha shook his head, sipping. "In all truth, Lord, I find it as ridiculous a request as any; for lappets are but silly pieces of cloth after all."

Meteri's wings rose. "You know full well this is not the truth!" he snapped, but a sharp gesture from the captain silenced him again. She'hekha didn't bother batting an eye.

"But it is the second requirement he gave, for lending his assistance," he added. He shrugged. "Do not ask me to explain his mind; he does his own thing." He lowered his cup and cocked his head. "Your answer?"

"You could just as easily head back to your tribe and lie either way," Fe'kheru stated. "I could not take them off, and you could say that I had; or I could take them off, and who is to say that you would tell him the truth?"

She'hekha stared at him for a moment, then smiled. "Who is to say? I could very well lie." He took a drink.

Fe'kheru was silent for a moment. When She'hekha lowered his cup he reached up and pulled off his skullcap, setting it upon his knee. Meteri grimaced and turned his head away as if the captain had just stripped himself bare in front of everyone; the Yellow Sands Kana's eyes widened, then they started snickering to themselves. She'hekha and Fa'rukha were the lone exceptions, and even they looked surprised.

"I take it this is well enough?" Fe'kheru asked quietly.

She'hekha blinked, then nodded. "This is well enough." The captain replaced his skullcap and straightened out his lappets. "I will relay this information to General Nehara," She'hekha continued, finishing his drink. "And if your plans so require it, I will ask for the best part of our army to accompany us on our return."

Fe'kheru nodded. "This is what we ask. However many men you believe would make a decent match against the Great Red Tribe. It would be best should they come and train with us, so that we may better understand how to cooperate as one army." He paused and brushed at his lappets. "You may bring your own standard to fly, if you wish."

She'hekha shook his head. "It is understood that the army to march against the Great Red Tribe will march under the standard of the River Tribe. They will remember us well enough once they see us." He looked into his cup, then set it aside. "Very well. Fa'rukha and I will return to our tribe and make this request. We should be training together in under four days."

The captain nodded once more. "Very well. You are welcome to enough food and drink to tide you over until you reach your tribe. When you return, you will be housed in the barracks, and we will train in the barracks yard together."

She'hekha pushed himself to his feet and waved at the rest of his men. Fe'kheru stood as well, Meteri following suit only reluctantly. "We will approach under our standard so there is no misunderstanding," She'hekha said, and crossed his arm to his breast. Fe'kheru followed suit; She'hekha turned away, gesturing toward the exit from the courtyard. The Yellow Sands Kana started filing from the court, murmuring to each other as they went; Fa'rukha stopped just long enough to pilfer another cake before leaving, though he did quickly clap his arm to his breast before turning and jogging out after the rest. Fe'kheru and Meteri remained, watching them go, and once they were gone Meteri started bristling again.

"I knew this was a foul idea," he muttered. "They have no sense of respect, and their heads are swollen like overripe fruit!" Fe'kheru sighed and stooped to pick up the plates that had been left behind. "Lord, why did you allow them to get away with such vulgar behavior?" Meteri asked, his voice plaintive; Fe'kheru just continued picking up the remains of the food and drink. "You did not have to remove your lappets. This is a barbaric request of any good Kana! I would be willing to bet that that lieutenant made it all up on his own, did I not know that their general is as much of an ass as they are!"

"There are some things you do not understand yet, Meteri," Fe'kheru replied.

Meteri clenched his fists. "But this is not one of them! Why do you allow them to treat you so--? For guests to mock their host such! This is unforgivable!" He stepped aside to stand in front of him and waved his hands. "On the way here I heard how they treated the messenger, to boot! They were ready to cut his head off! Lord, I do not think we should trust such Kana. What if they lead us into battle only to take the Great Red Tribe's side at the last moment--?"

"There is something you would do well to learn, 'Teri-Kana, and this is diplomacy. Sometimes, a little humiliation is needed to spare much difficulty later on. I do not mind taking off my lappets if it helps the tribe. I would not mind taking off my lappets even if it helped only one Moru. Whichever it is that best gets the job done. And we have already gone over this before. Had we any better plans, or more reliable allies, we would choose those. Yet this is not the case, and you very well know it."

"Still," Meteri said, and very nearly pouted, he looked so frustrated. Fe'kheru would have laughed at him had he been in the mood; Meteri had always been far too serious for his age. "They did not have to laugh at you so," he protested, and Fe'kheru sighed again.

"It is a bit of laughter, 'Teri-Kana, and I do not mind." He stacked the plates and dusted at the ground with his foot. "I can tell now that you take after both your mother and your father. Your mother was ever sensible, for a Moru, and so remarkably practical that your father even relied on her advice to him at times. On the other hand your father is..." he paused, wincing and seeing the way Meteri's wings lowered "...was...ever loudmouthed, and irresponsible, and prone to the most ridiculous temper tantrums at times. He had a good heart but so many were the times I wished to tie his muzzle shut, for how he would go on and on about all the injustices of the world. I take it that your mother would shut him up, now and then."

"He was not ever like this," Meteri insisted in a small voice. "He was always patient and coolheaded, and never lost his temper."

Fe'kheru's mouth twitched. "Perhaps not in your memory, but when he was younger, he was so much like you it is frightening." He picked up She'hekha's cup. "Now, you will promise me that you will try to hold your temper in check? At least until we are done dealing with them. He is right, you know, in that a lappet is just a silly little piece of cloth. You should be willing to take off your own if it will speed matters along."

Meteri made a face. "I should choke them with them," he muttered.

"That is your father talking," Fe'kheru said, retrieving the rest of the cups.

Meteri let out a flustered sigh. "And so what will you have me do, Lord--? Once they return? If I have to deal with that pissy lieutenant again, I'm likely to do something you would not advise. I would rather not land myself in such a situation just now."

Fe'kheru stood up and his mouth twitched again. "And that is your mother talking," he said, then winced, his arm jerking so one of the plates slid loose and shattered against the tiles. Meteri's ears flared and he took a quick step forward, holding out one hand.

"Lord--?"

"It is all right." Fe'kheru made a face and rubbed at his arm. "I believe I strained something sometime during our traveling, is all. It comes and goes." He looked at the broken plate and sighed, nudging its pieces under a bench so they would not be stepped upon. "I will have this taken care of later. As for you, I should like for you to do as you do best. Keep track of the new roster once all our new members come in, and make certain all of them are accounted for at all times. You are a lieutenant elite, you know--you could be in charge of the barracks themselves if you wished."

Meteri let out a huffing noise. "As if I would ever want to be a barracks lieutenant!" he exclaimed, but Fe'kheru could tell that the comment had lightened his spirits somewhat. "Very well," he added, grumbling again as if just for show so that the corner of Fe'kheru's mouth twitched upward. "I'll play babysitter to them, and make certain they do not lay waste to our city with their likely asinine drunkenness once they settle themselves in." He saluted and Fe'kheru nodded. "Do have Nerre'mua check your arm, won't you--?" he asked, and Fe'kheru nodded once more. Meteri finished his salute, then turned and strode quickly out of the courtyard, tail and lappets swinging as he went. Fe'kheru watched him go, then stood in silence for a while, staring at the pool; after some time he straightened the plates out again and resumed his walk toward the household, rubbing his hand slightly against his breast, a pensive look upon his face, as he did so.

* * * * *

Tas'eta's favorite times were passed with his slave, Iast'et. It did not matter that he stayed within a foreign town, with a strange tribe; so long as she was with him, and he knew that Binena was near, he felt comfortable. The Great Red Tribe had many more amenities than his own tribe, yet he hardly cared, especially when he was busy with Iast'et...which was quite often, now. The Moru seemed to love being with him as much as he with her, if her incessant giggling as they made love was any indication. She would always gasp and moan over his wings, so he always made a good point of showing them off while they coupled; for this reason she preferred being taken facing him, though they also often mated as their kind usually did, him mounting her from behind. He did not want to bore her though, so early into their relationship. As such he tried to learn of other intriguing ways to keep her entertained, and though he was quite naive when it came to nesakh'ai, still, he was a quick learner.

Today they had found the pool in the south courtyard of Mahakhi's residence, and it was Iast'et who had gasped and taken his hand, pulling him toward it with many smiles and giggled entreaties. He flushed furiously yet followed her. His wings still ached from what they had spent the previous night doing, and he was certain that almost everyone within the settlement had heard their cries as they mated far above the town, their bodies pulsing against each other in a frenzy of desire. She loved mating on the wing. Too bad it was so strenuous and difficult, yet Tas'eta could manage it. Just not every day...

Still, the water looked inviting, and there were no others in sight to disturb them. And so it was not long at all before they had shed their clothes and slipped beneath the surface, their heads and necks still above it as they kissed. He felt her hands slide down his body to his groin and his breath picked up. This was their first time today; there would be few preliminaries. Those could wait until later.

Tas'eta nuzzled at his mate's neck, sucking in the scent of her musk that rose even from beneath the water. He felt her shiver in anticipation, and slipped his fingers between her legs. She parted her thighs easily and gave a soft mew; his fingertips slid inside just a bit, testing her readiness. He could not tell if her juices were coming yet, as they were wet as it was, but it hardly mattered. The way she trembled told him more than enough. Grasping her hips, he hoisted her up and turned her about so her upper half went over the tiles at the edge of the pool. Iast'et squealed but he knew she enjoyed it. He pulled her thighs up and they squeezed against his own as he moved forward and plunged inside her from behind. The Moru squealed again, and her legs came up to encircle his waist. She was very flexible; he appreciated that. Emitting a steady stream of grunts, he clutched her tightly and began to thrust hard.

As always, the act was pure bliss...and as always it was only meant to be the first of many. They completely forgot they were in a public pool shared by the entire household, and so by the time that Tas'eta was busy coupling with Iast'et upon the pool's steps, he started when he heard a slight cough from overhead. The two of them looked up and the Kana lieutenant who had arrived bowed, a slight bit of color rising in his cheeks. Tas'eta couldn't remember his name, which for some reason bothered him more than being caught.

The lieutenant put his arm to his breast, studiously averting his eyes. "Apologies, Lord...I know I should not interrupt you while you are with your Moru. Yet your sergeant wishes to speak with you, and I did not know how important it may be."

"Oh." Only now did Tas'eta flush, hurriedly pulling himself out of Iast'et and pulling her down into the water with him so their bodies were at least submerged. She giggled and gazed up at the lieutenant with coy eyes; he coughed and fidgeted, looking away. Tas'eta emerged from the other side of the pool, water streaming from his fur; he quickly dried himself off and slipped into his loincloth and kilt. He didn't much mind being seen naked, himself; his mate, however, was another story. He gestured at her and when she stepped out onto the tiles, sleek and dripping wet and casting another look back at the waiting lieutenant, he blushed again and tossed a linen around her. The lieutenant coughed, obviously relieved.

"He's in your quarters, Lord."

Tas'eta's ears grew warm and he pulled the wrap around Iast'et, as she wasn't doing much to hold it in place. "Th-thank you, um...Lieu...Lieutenant."

The lieutenant gave him a curious look. Tas'eta pretended not to see. He took Iast'et by the hand and hurried away, back to his rooms.

Binena was waiting for him there, and bowed when he entered, shutting the door and pulling the loose cloth from Iast'et's shoulders. He didn't mind Binena seeing her, even though she now smiled at his sergeant, making no effort yet again to cover herself up. He dug about in his boxes of supplies while talking.

"The lieutenant told me you needed to speak with me!" he exclaimed, flustered. "Has something come up, Binena? Are we to head home--?"

"No, Lord; this was not it," Binena replied. "Rather I wished to speak with you about your father's property. There is a possible issue that may need to be resolved."

"Oh? What would this then be...dears, wherever are Iast'et's clothes! I must have torn them off of her when we were at the pool, they seem to have simply vanished!...you would think I would at least have something in here she could wear..."

Iast'et giggled. Binena went on.

"Lord, I have been told that not all of your father's slaves are so willing to return with you, back to our tribe."

"Aha! I knew there were some in here...I bought them for her just the other day!" Tas'eta triumphantly pulled a dress out of another box and held it up; as he turned back toward them he thought he saw Iast'et fingering herself as she smiled at Binena, but as soon as she saw that he was looking she stopped and smiled at him instead. "Little Palm Frond! I saw this in the market and just knew you would adore it...what was that?" He turned his head, lowering the dress slightly and giving Binena a puzzled look as his words at last sank in. "What was this you said?"

"Your father's slaves, Lord," Binena replied quietly. "I have been told, at least by one, that he does not desire to return to your tribe with you."

Tas'eta stared at him for a while before lowering the dress even more, so its lower edge brushed against the floor. Iast'et still stood naked nearby, yet he had forgotten about her. His confused look grew until he set the dress completely aside, approaching his sergeant.

"What do you mean...?"

Binena put his arm to his breast. "One told me he is used to living here, with Lord Mahakhi's Moru. He has been through much already, with his move to this tribe and the loss of his master. From what I can gather, he prefers to keep Lord Mahakhi's company and does not wish to change hands yet again." Tas'eta must have started to frown, for he added, "He has assured me that the matter has nothing to do with you as a Kana, Lord...merely he just wants things to stay as they are. With what he has been through, I can blame him only little."

Tas'eta's brow furrowed. "Do they...do they all feel thus?" he asked.

Binena lifted one shoulder. "I know only of him, Lord. Though from what he said, the others may feel the same."

"Oh." Tas'eta's gaze fell. He stared at the floor for a moment before looking up again.

"You truly do believe this...this has nothing to do with myself?"

"I believe this, Lord. Speak with your young love here, she will readily tell you you are a fine master."

"Still...they are my father's property...I had come to settle his estate. How am I to do this if they do not wish me to?" He bit his lip, then moved to slowly sit down upon the edge of his bed. He fiddled his fingers between his knees as he stared at the floor pensively. "I had not even thought to consider how they might feel," he murmured. "I had just assumed...they would want to come back with me..." He lifted his head once more and gave the sergeant a pleading look. "What should I do, Binena? I do not wish to upset any of them needlessly, if they truly do not want to go with me...yet...I feel that neither should I simply give them all up. It feels as if...as if I would be discarding everything my father left me. As if I would be abandoning them, somehow. I promised I would look after them. Either way, someone will end up unhappy. What do I do?"

The older Kana shrugged. "It is your decision to make, Lord, not mine. Whatever you should choose will be the right choice, for you." He paused, falling silent for a moment, then took a step toward the door and turned back again.

"Though Lord...there is one other option, which you have not considered yet."

Tas'eta's head popped up and he met Binena's eyes. "There is--? One that would make them happy--? And let me keep my promise--?"

Binena nodded. "Yet you yourself would have to make a great decision, in order to accomplish these two things."

"The Moru would get their wish, and I would not break my promise to my father?" Tas'eta asked, eyes growing wide. "It sounds impossible! However could I do this, Binena--? Will you say--?"

Binena put his arm to his breast and bowed his head. "You could do this," he replied, "by severing your obligations to the West Oasis Tribe, and asking admittance to the Great Red Tribe, as a member of General Mahakhi's Kana elite." Tas'eta blinked with surprise and Binena bowed again. "Have a good day, Lord." He strode to the door, opening it and exiting before the lieutenant could even speak, and silence filled the room.

Tas'eta sat staring at the door, Iast'et still standing naked nearby and peering at him curiously. He couldn't be certain that he could believe what he'd just heard...but if he could...was there any way it could truly be possible...?

* * * * *

As the days passed Khetai was beginning to grow used to being the property of Lieutenant Djuta. This did not mean that she liked this fact...only that now, it was easier to bear the reality of it. Every day, she spent her time in his quarters, cleaning, sorting, going through his items--ever since finding his box of letters, she had found he did not mind her doing this, now that he did not have many secrets left to keep--speaking with Rithukh'het when she was present, or simply lying about, waiting for the time to pass. He even occasionally brought her scrolls from Mahakhi's library, so she could read over the texts which had once kept her company during her lonely nights as physician, and though he did not seem to understand her interest in them, still he did not complain that she spent so long studying the spells and formulas she had once practiced herself. And he always made certain there was plenty of food and drink nearby, in case she grew hungry or thirsty, just so she would not have to risk herself creeping out to the kitchens; after her encounter with Iast'et, she no longer wished to go wandering about the house on her own.

Whenever Rithukh'het was there, she did not feel so lonely; the other Moru was not much of one for indepth conversation, as she knew nothing of medicine or physicians' duties, and could only speak of her past masters, and living in the Moru quarters; still, as soon as Khetai mentioned pups, the other female's face would always light up, and her stories of being a Moru were entertaining, in their own way. She even advised Khetai on how best to seek pleasure with a male, though Khetai didn't have the heart to tell her that she wasn't much interested in the subject. At least it kept her from going insane from boredom.

And every night when he returned from his Kana duties, they would make love. She found this tolerable now as well, if not extremely enjoyable, for herself; he was always certain to keep the act as quick yet as painless as possible, so she did not have to spend an undue amount of time with him inside her. They argued about it very little by now, their boundaries being clearly set; she would lie still and he would take her as a Kana properly took his mate, whether from in front or from behind, and once he was done he would remove himself and pleasure her with his mouth, always managing to bring a tiny shiver to her so that at least they both ended the evenings satisfied. She supposed she should be grateful that he was at least moderately good at hakh'tua and hakh'tehi; any other male, she supposed, would likely have rutted at her and then left her lying, sweaty and frustrated. Though she did not greatly enjoy the act, at least Djuta tried to give her some pleasure.

The one thing that bothered her was that he himself did not seem to enjoy the pastime either; she sensed that his body attained satisfaction, yet he himself remained detached from it. If this was so, he must see it as as much of a chore as she did. She had to admit that she was never very accommodating, except for when he used his mouth upon her, at which point she might moan and flex just a little; but from what he'd told her in the past, she knew he preferred a mate who appreciated what they were doing. So long as this remained a duty and nothing more, that would not happen. But at least they no longer screamed and fought over this issue. Thus they both simply waited to get it over with, and would then fall asleep side by side, most often not touching.

Tonight, Khetai lay upon her back. She preferred it this way, as it seemed less degrading; she would never have admitted it to anyone, especially not Djuta, yet when he mated with her from behind, sometimes she was reminded of U'heta. She was thankful that the lieutenant did not seem to drink much, if at all; the scent would have made her gag by now. She kept her eyes shut for the most part and pretended he was Bikhthet, sliding her fingers inside her, though his panting and the thick smell of his musk gave him away. He did not kiss her--they had agreed that this was not welcomed--but he did squeeze her breast in his hand as he swayed. She sighed and trembled a little. A moment or two later his hips stopped moving and pressed to hers; she tightened when she recognized his climax, and she waited patiently for it to subside. Once his seed stopped flowing, he sagged over her slightly, panting to catch his breath; then a moment later he pushed himself up and rolled off. Khetai remained supine, catching her own breath as well. They did not speak; for the most part, they had agreed that this, also, was not usually welcomed. They had learned that talking often led to arguing, with both of them possessing fiery natures, so they refrained. After a moment or so had passed, she felt him move, and then his fingers pressed between her legs, rubbing at her thik'ahi; she shut her eyes tight and parted her thighs, reaching down to guide his hand. He leaned over her and licked at her breast, his tongue running slowly over her nipple so she whimpered softly and shifted. He started sucking at her gently as he moved his fingers in and out, and Khetai panted, her chest rising and falling. Their nesakh'ai had already excited her, somewhat; and so tonight he did not have to touch her for too long, before she tensed and let out a soft cry, her thighs shaking as her moisture leaked out of her. He carefully pulled his hand away, rubbing it against the sheets--they had agreed that he would not lick up her juices, unless he were giving her hakh'tua--though he did lean over further to lick once at her other breast, making her shiver just slightly, before pulling away. Khetai let out her breath and sank into the bed, her insides humming at the feeling which had washed over her. She opened her eyes and stared lazily at the canopy as their breath slowed.

After a while Djuta sat up and ran his hands over his face. Khetai turned her head to look at him. She had to admit to herself that he was a handsome Kana, and she did admire his wings as he fanned them slightly and stretched. He swung his legs from the bed and bent over to poke around for his kilt. Sometimes, he left after they were finished with their conjugal duties; she had never asked him where he went, but today, for some reason, she did want to talk, to stave off the boredom and loneliness that were always threatening to overtake her in his long absences. With a start she realized that the times they spent making love were the only times, except for brief visits from Rithukh'het, when she was not alone.

She pushed herself up as well, not bothering to cover her bared breasts; she had long grown past the point of feeling utter humiliation every time he looked at her. "Where do you go, when you are done here?" she asked softly, hoping she did not sound petty or jealous.

Djuta glanced back at her with some surprise, evidently not having expected to hear her speak. He was naked as well, yet she barely even noticed by now. "You truly wish to know?" he said, after a moment.

Khetai nodded.

He stared at her a bit more before turning back to his digging. He located his kilt halfway beneath the bed and brought it up, shaking out the wrinkles. "Sometimes, I go to guard duty. Other times I go to see Lieutenant Resikh."

Khetai tilted her head with some curiosity. "Lieutenant Resikh...?" She paused. "You love him?"

He glanced at her again, now probing her eyes for any signs of discontent. Finding none, he answered.

"Yes," he said quietly. "I do."

Khetai searched herself, but found that she did not feel jealous. She lay down upon her belly with her arms folded in front of her and watched him as he stood and dressed. His tail flicked from side to side and she let her eyes wander over him as he tied on his loincloth and stooped to put on his kilt.

"From what I saw at the trials, the two of you did not get along most well." He didn't reply to this, but she didn't care. "Did you truly do it...? What they accused you of doing, before the tribunal?"

Djuta's hands fell still from doing up his belt, and for a moment or two he stared at some spot on the floor across the room. Khetai waited for him to reply, thinking he might not. He finally reached down and dug about in one of the boxes, seeking a pectoral.

"Yes. I did."

Khetai frowned. "And he lied for you...? Both of them did? But why?"

"My understanding is as great as yours. But apparently, I was not meant to be punished for my crimes."

"You wished for them to punish you?"

He looked at her again. "Would you have not wished it so?"

Khetai bit the inside of her mouth. She looked him up and down, then rested her head upon her hands.

"No...I do not think so. I think you made a mistake, the same as I did. One should not be punished for a mistake."

Djuta stared at her for a moment more. He returned to placing on his pectoral.

"Then it appears I am the only one of the mind that I should have been." He closed the box and pushed it away, now retrieving his sandals. "I am likely to be gone for the rest of the night. I fetched a few of those scrolls for you; they should be in the corner. Try not to smudge them or Mahakhi might notice I've been taking them."

Khetai pulled the sheets close to herself. "Could you not call Rithukh'het instead? I will not be in your way...I will go and sleep on the cot."

"As it is, I must head out tonight for guard duty, not to see Resikh." He slipped his feet into his sandals and shuffled his wings. "They have doubled the guards at the gate lately because of the news we have been receiving from the north."

"News...?"

"Yes. Our last meeting with the River Tribe may not have been the final one after all. Our scouts say that even now they are gathering forces with another tribe that has given us difficulty in the past." Khetai sat up with an anxious look, but he leaned down and kissed her quickly on the cheek before she could protest. She touched the spot as he finished putting on his sandals. "Do not worry about it too greatly; this is my concern and not yours. I doubt they will be able to accomplish much anyway, with how badly we beat them the last time."

Khetai nodded. "All right...please look after yourself, though."

Djuta looked at her once more. He seemed to be surprised by the statement; then his eyes softened and he nodded, once.

"I will. Thank you."

Khetai smiled faintly. Despite their quite rocky start, he was not a bad Kana. He'd treated her much better than the others of his sort had, and he had not even had to. He finished dressing himself and picked up his sword, tucking the scabbard into his belt as he headed for the door; Khetai watched him go, opening her mouth to call farewell before a surge in her stomach cut the statement off. She gasped and jerked upright, hands clasping her belly; when Djuta spun around in response to the noise she doubled over and retched, vomiting upon the bed. What little she had eaten during the day ended up in a steaming puddle between her knees, and her eyes watered at the reek; she clapped a hand to her mouth in embarrassment. Within seconds Djuta was beside her, grasping her arm and pulling away the soiled sheets.

"Khetai! Are you all right? Do you feel well?"

"I...y-yes..." Khetai whispered hoarsely, wiping her mouth and cringing. "I have not felt well all day...I must have eaten something that has gone bad."

Djuta's eyes were wide; she couldn't remember ever having seen him look so panicked, except at the trial. He pressed a hand to her forehead. "Is it the illness--? Perhaps I should bring you to the physician..."

Khetai winced and brushed his hand away. "No, no, it is not the illness; I recognize the symptoms of that, and this is not it...it is merely a little stomach upset...that is all. The fish that I had earlier on today did taste oddly..." The shame grew in her face as she looked at the sopping sheet he held clenched in his hand. "I--I am sorry about that--if I had known it was coming, I would have done it into an urn..."

"What--?" He blinked, then looked at the sheet, as if having forgotten that he was holding it. "Oh--no, this is all right. Merely a sheet; there are plenty more. It can be replaced." He crumpled the foul thing and mashed it into an empty box, shutting the lid and kicking it away with his foot. "I worry more about you! You are certain you are all right? That I should not call the physician?"

Khetai's mouth twitched. "Please remember, I was once physician to Mahakhi myself! I think I know when I am all right. And I certainly know more than that old bat. Believe me. I will be fine."

Djuta flushed a little, and she felt bad for having rebuked him. He let out his breath and relaxed his tensed wings. "Very well...I'll have to leave you then. I will call upon Rithukh'het and have her brought here to keep you company, in case you become ill again; is that acceptable?"

Khetai's spirits lifted a little. "Yes, all right," she said; she'd rather been hoping for company. "She will give me someone to talk to," she added, and he nodded in agreement.

"Very well. I won't be too long fetching her. Until she comes, please just lie and rest for a bit, will you? I hate the thought of leaving you on your own, now."

Khetai blushed. She nodded at his request, and, again unbidden yet not entirely unwelcomed, he kissed her quickly on the cheek before departing. She again rubbed at the spot that he had touched, drawing her knees up to her chest and looping her arm about them. Her stomach had settled by now, but still she wondered, why she was so concerned about how he might be feeling and why. She had never felt such concern for any Kana before, except for her brother; and he was certainly not her brother.

But...

She bit her lip, then lay back with a sigh, telling herself not to think over such thoughts, and to just wait for Rithukh'het and her simple yet distracting conversation. Distraction was what she could use the most, right about now.

Continue:

"Part 49: Confrontation" 


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