Part 62: Vision

DISCLAIMER: Nonconsensual scene(s).
Underage character(s) involved.


Note: Um...actually...this part didn't even NEED a rewrite. o_o As it turns out, it was pretty much complete as it was! All that has been changed are minor details--a new sentence here, a changed word there--followed by a proofread. Please enjoy this newly public version of Part 62 and be on the lookout for updates to the next parts!


A SCREAM CUT suddenly through the air, and Lieutenant Nehef jerked forward from a doze, eyes wide and bewildered. He groaned and rubbed them when he remembered where he was and what was going on. He glanced behind himself, in the direction of the bed that occupied the room. He'd been left here to wake its occupant in case of such an event as this, and had dozed off himself instead. The scream died into a series of whimpers before fading completely, then being replaced by murmuring. Nehef leaned toward the bed, curious now.

General Dja'mui mumbled incoherently in his sleep. Once in a while Nehef thought he recognized a name or two, and felt a pang when he realized that these must be the names of Dja'mui's slaughtered family. His Kana sons, his daughters, his Moru, his mates and his slaves...he had told Mahakhi that he had had six Kana sons, four of them grown; four Moru boys; seven girls; and a pup whose sex he didn't even know yet, as it had still been in the belly of his third mate. He had had four mates from among his Moru, one hundred and twenty three of them; before the ambush by the Blue Oasis Tribe, he and his men had searched all throughout the shattered city. Every last one of his family, but for one son who was with him, was dead.

For some reason the image that stuck with Nehef the longest was that which Dja'mui had given of his youngest mate and his second-youngest daughter. They had been found together, he stated, curled in a far corner of the ruined household--for the invading tribe destroyed all of the houses of those whom they conquered. His eyes had filled with tears, which had run down his face unheeded when he described the state that the two Moru had been in. Even now, hours later, Nehef still shuddered. The female had been throttled, but that had not killed her. A bloody hole had gaped between her legs, her insides sliding out of it to dampen the floor, as if whoever had done this had reached in and grasped her intestines and yanked them out of her vagina while she was still alive. The girl, but four years old, was likewise bleeding, though mostly intact; she had had dark ugly bruises upon her legs, and the general, the Kana, had broken down sobbing as he told of this. He hadn't wanted to speculate about where the bruises had come from. He'd only hoped she'd died quickly, before it was over. His mate was mutilated too badly for any to tell if she had suffered the same humiliation or not.

Her blank, staring eyes drilled into Nehef's head, even though he had never seen her; the dead, teary eyes of the child burned into his mind even more. He shut his own eyes and tried to force the feeling away, but was unsuccessful; although he could never hope to feel or understand all of Dja'mui's pain, still he found that he was repulsed, fearful, and furious all at once. The general's rage and grief were palpable, and they had infected him.

"I awoke you, didn't I?"

Nehef jumped again. Dja'mui was pushing himself up, rubbing at his bloodshot eyes. His comment was barely a question as he swung his legs from the bed, and Nehef could tell that he would be getting no more sleep this night.

"No, Lord," he lied, forcing his voice to sound light. "I was awake already...I am not used to not being in my own quarters. I usually keep guard at this time of the night anyway."

"I apologize," Dja'mui said dully, still rubbing at his eyes. He and his men had arrived very late at the city, and as such they had not bothered to bathe and change before going to sleep, tearing their food apart with their dirty fingers before trudging away to doze off wherever they fell. Dja'mui was housed in I'anen's room. She'hekha had stayed here last; Nehef was beginning to wonder if it was cursed.

"It isn't necessary," he insisted, standing up. "You wish for me to get you a drink?"

"No," Dja'mui said, a little bit loudly, so Nehef halted. The general raised his head to meet Nehef's eyes, and Nehef had to look away. He had seen that look before...but it had always been in a Moru's eyes, not a Kana's. An agonized look, not even bitter. Defeated; the look of someone ready to give up. "I am not thirsty." His gaze wandered and Nehef let out his breath. He sat back down and they stayed in silence for a moment or two. He hated keeping watch here, but not because of anything personal he felt against the strange Kana; rather it was the oppressive air of gloom clinging to the Hawk Tribe that bothered him. Until now he'd never known such a feeling existed.

"Do you have family?" Dja'mui asked, and Nehef blinked in surprise at the question. He flushed.

"No...no, I do not."

"You haven't any pups of your own?"

"No, Lord...my time is taken up serving as first lieutenant to Lord Mahakhi."

"Ah, so you are the first lieutenant then...I was not aware. Forgive me."

"This is all right, Lord; of course you couldn't know."

"My second oldest was my first lieutenant..." Dja'mui's voice trailed off, and Nehef had to look away again. He hated this, how every little thing might trigger the pain. "Intaka...it was a fuss even getting him to join the military." He stood, stretching his wings halfheartedly, and walked away to the window, staring out at the courtyard. Nehef sensed an excuse and rose again, saluting--even though Dja'mui could not see it--and exiting the room as quickly and silently as he could.

He needed fresh air, a walk, anything.

He avoided heading into the west hall, as he knew that this was where many of Dja'mui's other men were housed. He could hear a startled yelp every so often and knew that they dreamed as well. Instead he headed for the back of the household, his steps quick. He escaped the property through a little-used passageway and made his way to the city wall. He had liked to sit atop it and think when his mind was cluttered, back when he was but a guard and a patrol. It had always brought his mind peace back then...now, however, no matter how long he sat and waited for peace to come, it would not. He stared out over the western desert, and all that he could keep seeing in the moonlit sand below was blood and grief and death. Strangely armored Kana soldiers, riding his way. Every friend he had ever known, slaughtered and mutilated and left to rot under the sun.

Nehef shivered.

"Brother? Is that you?"

He jerked a little and looked over his shoulder, down the wall. He let out his breath to see Lieutenant Ahai'ikh standing below, looking back up, and waved a little. The other Kana frowned before climbing up the ladder, speaking as he came.

"What are you doing way out here? I just spent twenty minutes looking for you in the house."

"Dja'mui did not need me anymore," Nehef replied. "I wished for some fresh air."

Ahai'ikh's muzzle wrinkled. "I know; they all seem to carry the stink of death upon them, don't they?"

Nehef sat still as Ahai'ikh sat down beside him, and they stared at the western cliffs together. "I thought perhaps my mind was making up that smell," Nehef murmured; Ahai'ikh shivered a bit and wrapped his arms around his knees.

"No...I smell it too. Everywhere now. I'm certain they don't mean to, and possibly they're used to it by now...but maybe not. The general's pup won't even shut his eyes for a second."

"Intaka?"

"Yes, I forgot his name. He will not stop speaking. 'I am the last; I am the last.' That is all he will keep saying, aside from when he is asking after his father. Poor dog."

"Almost six thousand dead," Nehef murmured. "And this is only one tribe...how many others have they gotten by now?"

"Who knows. Mahakhi claims we will know them when they come, so we should have ample warning. According to Dja'mui they dress rather oddly."

Nehef nodded. At first, Mahakhi and the others had not believed Dja'mui's story of how the Blue Oasis Tribe had dressed during their attack...they wore the full battle armor of the Kana, some of them with capes, yet every last one wore a mask as well...strange skull-like masks, bone white in color...who knew, perhaps they truly were made of skulls. According to the tales told, the Blue Oasis Tribe had killed more than enough Apsiu to fashion masks for an entire army. Dja'mui had not recognized the faces of any of them. It took a bit more convincing before Mahakhi would believe this tale was true, though so far the other Kana had no reason to lie. Nehef sighed and looked upwards at the stars.

"Ahai'ikh...do you ever regret your life?"

Ahai'ikh tilted his head, looking puzzled. "What do you mean?"

"Your choices...do you ever wish you'd done something differently? Like learned a trade, rather than join the army? Stayed with the men rather than become the general's lieutenant?" He leaned back against the mudbrick and sighed again. "I've begun wondering if I've wasted all my time. I do not even have a pup yet."

Ahai'ikh frowned. "The lieutenants to the general are expected to serve him with all of their time, Brother. You know this."

"I know, but who is to say I still could not have had a pup or two?" Nehef looked wistful. "And a mate...I do not even have a favorite. Certainly, a female or two I tend to visit more than the rest, but none that stand out for me..."

"Why are you dwelling on this so? You've never wished for a pup before, and Khesa's daughters have always been more than enough for you!" The second lieutenant made a face. "Did you speak with that general--?"

"Not much," Nehef murmured. "I did not have to."

Ahai'ikh waved at the air. "It is best just to not think about it, then, until such a time arrives. You are not old yet. Maybe Mahakhi will grow dissatisfied with you and have me take your place. Then you can have as many pups as you wish."

Nehef gave him an odd look. "Will I wake up with your dagger sticking out of my back some morning, Brother? That sounded pretty ambitious."

"See, already I have distracted you with something else to worry about."

Nehef sighed and leaned back. Ahai'ikh didn't bother saying another word, though he did lightly touch Nehef's knee before pulling back toward himself. They sat and stared out at the desert darkness.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Djuta's eyes popped open immediately, as if something had awakened him abruptly. A scream? A nightmare? He didn't remember either; yet he was wide awake, anyway.

He turned his head to take in his surroundings. The lighting had dimmed considerably; how much time had passed? General Nehara was still in the bed with him; he seemed casual, yet refined, even in slumber. As if he were in the deepest places of sleep, yet ready to snap the arm of anyone who might try to attack him anyway. Djuta stared at him for a moment or two before he discovered that he was shaking.

He held up his hands and looked at them as they trembled, as if they belonged to someone else. His hands never trembled so much. He was suddenly flooded with an overwhelming urge to leave this place. He didn't know why; just that he had to, or else he would lose his mind and do something he would regret.

Djuta sat up and slid his legs out of the bed, standing and scrabbling around hurriedly for his clothing. He shook so badly that it took him a few tries just to tie on his loincloth. He tossed on his kilt and sandals and left his armor behind; he couldn't take the time needed to put everything else on. His breath came quick but shallow, his skin icy cold. He strode across the room for the door and pulled it open, rushing outside and letting it swing shut behind him.

He walked more and more hurriedly as he went down the hallway, not certain of where to go. It got to the point where he was finally jogging, then running, and then he realized that he was going to be sick. He spotted a courtyard off to his side and made a beeline for it, a burning taste rising in his throat. He stumbled toward the pool--why, he didn't know--and halted beside it, hands on knees and chest heaving. He couldn't even stand still what with the wild tremors passing through him. He squinched his eyes shut and ground his teeth, trying to will himself to return to normal--whatever that was--when a flood of heat rose in his throat and he vomited upon the tiles, once, then twice, then letting out dry heave after dry heave. He pressed a hand to his mouth and gagged at the smell steaming up before him. But at least the shaking was subsiding now. He stood bent over and waited for it to go away completely.

"Gods...you really don't like drink, do you."

Djuta jerked upright, hand still to his mouth. Lieutenant Fa'rukha stood several paces away, not too far from the courtyard entrance. He held up his hands.

"You startled me," Djuta mumbled around his own hand.

Fa'rukha's brow furrowed. "I'm sorry...I did not mean to. I train out here every morning that I can...I wasn't expecting to meet you so early." He nodded at the puddle of vomit at Djuta's feet; Djuta glanced down at it as if having forgotten it was even there. "I see you had an accident...when you said you didn't like to drink, you weren't lying."

It took a moment for Djuta to understand. Fa'rukha thought he was just recovering from a hangover. He stood upright again and rubbed at his aching head. Perhaps the story wasn't too far from the truth.

"I would have felt rude refusing it," he replied.

Fa'rukha smiled. "Well, better to be rude than sick as a dog. Are you interested in sparring, by the way? Would you join me out here?"

At the words would you join me, Djuta felt his heartbeat pick up, but not in a good way. He surreptitiously pressed a hand to his stomach and willed what contents it had left to stay down. Despite his attempt to disguise the action, Fa'rukha must have seen it, for he held up his hands again and his smile grew awkward.

"Ah...never mind. You're still a tad green. I prefer to train without puke all over my feet...maybe another time."

"Another time," Djuta echoed. He started out of the courtyard to leave Fa'rukha in peace. "I will beat your tail though," he called out as he went, and heard the other Kana laugh in response.

"We'll see!"

Inside the household again, it was slightly better, as the hallways were cooler even at this early hour. Djuta let out a shaky sigh as he walked, hand still pressed to his stomach. It must have been the nightmares that were making him sick. For he'd had his share of them last night, he was certain. He couldn't remember much of them by now, but that didn't matter. His stomach roiled again and he gritted his teeth and came to an abrupt stop, putting his other hand out against a column and sliding down to his knees. It hadn't hurt this much even when he'd stabbed himself in the chest. At least then, he'd been expecting the pain.

He let go of the column to slump against it, balling his fists against his stomach and trying to will the pain away. He bit his lip until it bled, but nothing seemed to work.

Someone touched his shoulder.

Djuta gasped and jumped, falling over on one leg. His eyes widened when he saw the face staring back at him--a female's face, framed by white lappets. For a moment he almost forgot his distress.

Yekh'iet tilted her head. "To be ill?"

Djuta swallowed, panting. She seemed genuinely concerned about him. He glanced down the hallway and saw that they were alone--exactly what he'd been hoping for, though he would have preferred not to be so sick when they met. He held onto his stomach again and pushed himself up weakly, his breath still heavy.

She knelt down before him now and held out one hand toward his face. "To be ill?" she said again, and pressed her fingers to his forehead. He sat still as her expression changed to one of worry. "To be ice cold!" she exclaimed, and felt the pulse at his neck. She made a clucking sound of disapproval and took his hand. "To lie down," she suggested. "Very sick. To not walk around."

"You are Yekh'iet," Djuta murmured, still grinding his teeth. She frowned as if confused and let go of his hand. He pushed himself into a sitting position, using the column for support, and tried to bring himself under control. Thankfully, the pain subsided just slightly, and he could talk.

"Lord Nehara told me about you."

The confusion melted away from her face, though she still seemed slightly puzzled. Djuta took a few breaths and let them out before reaching out to take her hand. She let out a small gasp of surprise and tried to pull away, but he held fast.

"I won't hurt you." He leaned forward, hoping his illness didn't make him look too threatening. "I wished to speak with you," he whispered urgently. "Just you and me. I promise I won't hurt you. But I need to ask you something."

Yekh'iet frowned again, a guarded look entering her eyes. Djuta cursed himself inwardly and hoped that she wouldn't grow too suspicious of him just yet. "Lord Nehara," he continued. "Why is he interested in me? What do you know about me? And why didn't you tell him?"

The female's expression changed now, and he could tell that she knew. Not only about him, but about what he knew. He knew she had known that he was outside Nehara's door. She had known that he was watching, and that he'd heard what she'd said. And he knew that she knew much more about him than that.

Yekh'iet pulled her hand free and rose. She didn't take her eyes off of his until she turned and hurried away down the hall, running lightly but quickly. Djuta had half a thought to follow her, but just then the nausea swept over him again and he grimaced and grabbed onto the column. At the same time he mentally berated himself. He'd asked her too many questions at once...of course she'd had no choice but to flee him. He must look and sound like an insane man. Plus he shouldn't have mentioned how he knew that she had spoken with Nehara about him. Of course she was too afraid to speak; he had almost strangled her, a couple of nights ago.

Djuta sat in the hallway and waited for the sickness to pass by again. It was a while before he felt well enough to walk, and then he could only move several steps at a time, stopping every so often to take a few breaths before moving on. He went back to his own room instead of Nehara's, as he felt that if he went back there right now, the nausea might overtake him for good.

* * * * *

It wasn't easy for Khetai to become used to living in a Kana household, as a slave, once more. She wasn't certain where exactly she stood, yet felt too awkward asking Captain Fe'kheru about it. He housed her in his quarters, and aside from his initial introduction of her to Ikhi'et, his mate, he seemed to have no more use for her, at least for now...she wasn't certain whether to be relieved or bored. She hated spending so much time in his quarters; Ikhi'et tried to be friendly, but the two of them had very little in common. The Moru didn't mind staying there the entire day; Khetai, on the other hand, found that her old compulsion to wander was almost overwhelming. She would pace along the walls of the room for long stretches of time, wishing for a way to escape...with the scarcity of guards here, and of Kana in general, she supposed she could very easily escape, but every time she thought of this, guilt came over her. Why did she feel guilty about betraying a Kana?

Ikhi'et eventually gave up trying to talk to her, and kept to herself. So Khetai might as well have been alone, and she hated being alone.

She was embarrassed when one day Fe'kheru told her that she was free to walk about the household, if she did not try to go outside. The only way he could have known about her desire to leave the room was if Ikhi'et had told him, and she hated the thought that he would know she had been too uncomfortable to ask him directly. Still, at least it was something. She knew that leaving the household could mean endangering herself, no matter how disinterested the Kana of this tribe seemed to be toward her; but perhaps walking the halls might curb her boredom just a bit.

It would have worked just fine, if Captain Khanef had not spotted her one morning.

Khetai had tried not to make a routine of where she walked and when, on what days, but she couldn't help running into him just the same. On spotting him further down the hall she found herself overcome by irritation, and tried to turn away before he could see her. She could tell from the immediate increase in his pace that her luck hadn't held out, and she ground her teeth in annoyance when he came up beside her, panting from his hurrying up the hall.

"You're the one who came with Lord Fe'kheru, aren't you?" he asked, rather stupidly, she thought; she didn't reply in the hopes that he might go away, but that only seemed to spur him on for some bizarre reason. "Meteri wouldn't tell me your name; but I think I heard what it was from one of the other Moru. Ket-something?" He rubbed his head and made an exaggerated face. "Agh, my memory is awful. There are times I feel I would forget my own name if it hadn't been drilled into my head all during training..."

He continued in like manner for at least three or four minutes straight. Khetai groaned inwardly. Would he never take the hint? She glanced about, hoping to spot Meteri, Ikhi'et, anybody, but of course nobody was to be found. How many people even lived in this household, anyway?

"...Though of course I doubt you would be much interested in hearing about that, would you?" Khanef droned on. "I don't know, I heard a rumor about you but I don't know if it was true, that you would know more about the Kana than one would think; but I try not to put too much stock in rumors--"

"Please go away," Khetai murmured under her breath.

Khanef cut himself off with a curious look, and frowned, leaning toward her. "What did you say?" he asked. "I couldn't quite hear you. Oh." His face lit up. "I never even considered that you might be shy! Since you don't look the type, but I suppose it's always possible; perhaps I should have been more--"

"Please go away," Khetai said more loudly. She was grateful that her voice came out sounding more desperate than annoyed; Moru were not supposed to speak to Kana in such a fashion. Khanef blinked in surprise anyway and almost stopped, but she kept going, and so he did as well.

"I'm sorry," he said, after an awkward moment. "If I'm making you feel uncomfortable...?"

"Please let me be." Khetai stopped now, turning to face him. She clenched and unclenched her fists at her sides and bit the inside of her mouth, warning herself to keep her voice civil. "I'm not...interested in talking," she said, hoping he would understand. The Kana frowned a little, but then his face lit up again and she almost groaned aloud.

"Oh!" he exclaimed. "I never even told you my name! Of course it's rude for me to go on like that when you don't even know me, and I don't even know you. My name is Khanef." He smiled at her and gave a mock salute. "I know your name is Ket-something, but you have to forgive me for not remembering the rest; and Meteri is being an ass, and won't tell me what it is--"

"Why are you talking to me?" Khetai begged. "Why are you even interested in talking to a Moru?" It stung to call herself this, but she would have tried just about anything to get him to go away.

Khanef smiled. "Well, I often find that Moru have interesting things to say. You would be surprised--or perhaps not. The Kana are boring. All we talk about is fighting and such. Moru, on the other hand, are much more interesting. I thought that perhaps we--"

Khetai clenched her fists again. "I am not interested in males!" she spat, and finally, that managed to shut him up. She felt her ears go red but repeated herself--in a calmer voice this time--lest he misunderstand yet again. "I--I am not interested in males. I was just headed back to Lord Fe'kheru's quarters as it is. I've been away from there too long and I'll be missed."

Khanef blinked. His open cheerfulness slowly faded into uncertainty, and she suddenly felt awful for having snapped at him; he didn't look to be too much older than herself, if in fact he was older. "Ah...oh," he said, and she saw that his own ears had turned a shade pinker than before. "Not interested in males," he echoed, and coughed, then rubbed at the back of his neck. He tried to smile again, but it looked forced. "Ah...well, this is rather...awkward..."

"I'm sorry," Khetai said, and turned away from him before the guilt could grow. She walked as quickly as she could back toward Fe'kheru's rooms. When she glanced back at him he still stood where she'd left him, though he was staring after her, as if unsure of whether he should follow or not. As soon as he saw that she was looking, his head popped up and he held up his hand to his mouth.

"If it helps any," he called out, "I really was interested only in talking!"

Khetai flinched and quickly turned away again, nearly jogging by now. She didn't give him the chance to follow or say anything else. She was only grateful that he seemed more bewildered than angry with her comments. She knew that, as a Kana, he had every right to come after her for how she'd acted.

This was why the next day she did not dare leave the room, not only because of how rude she'd been, but because of how embarrassed she felt. She hadn't sensed any hostility or lechery from the Kana, even if he had been a little too chatty. Perhaps he truly had been seeking someone to talk with. There weren't very many people of his own standing left in this tribe, she realized with a pang. She felt awful for having spoken so rudely when all he had wished to do was talk; then the other side of her mind took over, insisting that all Kana were alike, and he'd had just one thing in mind despite his cheerful exterior. So she sat in Fe'kheru's room and let her mind war with itself, too humiliated to set foot outside. Perhaps she would try again next week; this week was already ruined.

Ikhi'et seemed a little happier to have her company, yet didn't bother her, so they didn't speak all day. Khetai's boredom overtook her again and she sought refuge in sleeping, deciding to nap until dinner came. She hated sleeping so late, but it wasn't as if there was anything else to do.

She was in the middle of dreaming about walking...oddly enough...when someone shook her shoulder. She yawned and rubbed at her eyes, able to tell by the dimness the lateness of the hour--Fe'kheru had not returned yet, she knew--and she sat up, stretching her wings.

"Ikhi'et? What do you..."

She lifted her head to ask Ikhi'et what she wanted, if she too was bored and wished to do something; perhaps the captain had a senet board lying about somewhere. She'd never much cared for senet, but right now it would have been wonderful to play a game. She suddenly noticed that the eyes that stared back into hers were not Ikhi'et's, and gasped and jumped back, nearly toppling over her cot. Djefet--for that's who stared at her--put a hand to her mouth and giggled, then waved, as if she and Khetai were two little girls in on some joke.

"Djefet--?" Khetai blurted out, struggling to right herself. "What are you doing here? You could get in trouble for wandering around!" She glanced about the room, spotted Ikhi'et sitting in Fe'kheru's bed watching the two of them with open curiosity, and then turned back to Djefet again. The young Moru smiled from ear to ear.

"Silly! Ask to come! To not get in trouble. Keep Khetai company!"

"What?" Khetai's brow furrowed in confusion. "Who asked you to come here?"

"Lord Fe'kheru. To say Khetai lonely. Get bored. Call Djefet to keep company! So to come!" She spread her arms as if this explained everything, then giggled again.

Khetai sat upright. "I...I don't think I understand. Lord Fe'kheru told you to come here? To keep me company?"

Djefet nodded happily.

Khetai's brow furrowed. "But...why would he do that?"

Djefet made a scoffing noise. "To keep Khetai from bored, silly! To want someone to talk to, yes? Play game? Whatever Khetai wants. Djefet stay here tonight, yes?"

"Stay here tonight?" Khetai's bewilderment grew. "But--why did he call you here now? I've been staying here for some days now--what gave him this idea all of a sudden?"

"Silly!" Djefet made a dismissive gesture. "To speak with other captain--Djefet hear. To say Khetai lonely, need female to talk with. Fe'kheru to know Djefet, ask to come, keep Khetai company. Djefet here!"

"Female...?" Khetai's bewilderment slowly changed to disbelief. "He did not speak with Captain Khanef...did he?"

Djefet nodded brightly again. "Yes, this to be name! Khetai wish to talk now? Play senet?"

Khetai covered her face with her hands and moaned. "Kana...they are all alike! They think of only one thing! Why did I hope it would be different?"

The younger Moru seemed confused by her reaction. She took Khetai's hand away from her face and met her eyes, though Khetai was so humiliated by now that she had to look away. "What wrong...?" Djefet asked. "To say something bad...?"

"No...it isn't you." Khetai brought her other hand down and clenched it, her muzzle wrinkling. "It is these Kana!" Her face screwed up. "They are ALL ALIKE!"

"Not all alike!" Ikhi'et exclaimed suddenly from the bed, making Khetai jump. She glanced at the other Moru and saw that she was very nearly scowling, and this surprised her--she'd never seen such an expression on Ikhi'et's face before. "Lord Fe'kheru to be good master!"

"Meteri-Kana to not be bad," Djefet added, furrowing her brow.

"To meet Lord Yekh'ef before killed," Ikhi'et said, and her eyes watered up. "To be a good Kana."

"Only truly bad one bastard captain," Djefet finished, and spat on the floor. Ikhi'et followed suit.

"You haven't met very many Kana then," Khetai snapped, feeling a pang at being rebuked so. "There are plenty of bad ones besides Sut'khut. There are the ones who killed my brother and the rest of my tribe and forced me to flee. There are the two who had plans to rape me when I sought out the protection of their tribe. There is the one who did rape me while I was supposed to have been under the protection of Lord Mahakhi! There is the one who made me lose my child and all of my chances at freedom!" She bared her teeth, her eyes stinging. "And worst of all--there is the one who vowed to free me, then sold me here!"

She finished her tirade, only to find the other two Moru staring at her silently. Her ears burned and she had to grit her teeth and look down at the cot. After a moment or so, she felt Djefet take her hand again and squeeze it.

"To have met many bad Kana," she said quietly. "But good Kana, also. Truly. Djefet know."

"Fe'kheru-Kana to be good to you," Ikhi'et added.

"And Meteri and Khanef."

"I know." Khetai blurted it out, then wiped at her eyes so she didn't have to look at the others. Her eyes were running already. "It's just that...over time, the bad Kana begin to outweigh the good. I do not believe in a good Kana anymore."

Ikhi'et rose from the bed and came toward the other two. "To exist!" she insisted. "To be good Kana--bad Kana, yes, but good ones too! Ikhi'et never sorry with her master!"

"Djefet bite the bad Kana," Djefet said, and clicked her teeth. "Only let the good Kana stay!"

Khetai couldn't help it. She hiccupped and started crying. She tried to hide her face, but the two females crowded beside her and put their arms around her. For a moment, at least, she felt almost as if they were her sisters. Perhaps they were...?

A long while passed as Ikhi'et and Djefet sat and held the weeping Khetai, the day's light turning from yellow to rose.

* * * * *

The Great Red Tribe did not seem like the friendliest place to be at this time. The general was constantly on edge about Djuta's defection, and the possible impending trouble with an unknown enemy tribe--but the presence of the refugees of the Hawk Tribe seemed to mollify him somewhat, as if looking after them gave him another purpose. This still did not mean that the Great Red Tribe was the friendliest place to be.

Lieutenant Be'shen thought of this as he made his way down the street toward Mahakhi's household. He hated the very thought of merely setting foot in there right now.

Still, he kept the worry from his face as he walked. It wasn't often that he went far from Lord Djetef's household, so there were plenty of Kana who did not know him. This drew the occasional curious look, but not many greetings. The attention amused him; if it hadn't been for the insignia on his lappets they probably would have assumed that he was one of the other general's men.

For their part, the Hawk Tribe did a good job of keeping themselves hidden. He may not have gotten away from the household much, but it was odd not to even see any of them. He supposed they were not in much of a mood to go carousing.

Be'shen then realized that his mind was wandering.

He shook his head and jogged up the steps to Mahakhi's household. The lieutenants at the doors did not even challenge him, merely saluted and let him through. Lord Djetef had enough influence in the tribe that Be'shen could do pretty much whatever he wanted without much fear of trouble. He glanced around at every face that he came across inside, hoping to see somebody familiar. He spotted another lieutenant walking his way and waved genially.

"Hey, Brother!"

The other Kana lifted his head--he'd been lost in thought too, apparently--and blinked when he first saw him. "Be'shen? Is that really you?"

Be'shen grinned widely and clasped Ahai'ikh's arm when they met. "What, you find it too hard to believe? Have I been gone that long?"

Ahai'ikh's nostrils flared. "How did you convince Lord Djetef to let you out of your cage? There is a rumor that he keeps you locked up underneath his bed."

"No, my cage is closer to the harem." That brought a smile to Ahai'ikh's face, so Be'shen considered his work here done. "Actually he let me off my leash to go fetch his son. Have you seen him anywhere?"

Ahai'ikh's smile faded. "I'm not certain where he is. You may have a hard time finding him. You've heard about Djuta, haven't you?"

Be'shen tilted his head.

"You haven't?" Ahai'ikh seemed surprised. "I had thought everyone knew by now...the rumors are so outlandish. Resikh did not wish any to be told, but all know by now except you. Djuta-Kana left the tribe several nights ago."

"Left?"

Ahai'ikh nodded. "A witness saw him leaving with the enemy tribe."

Be'shen frowned. Then he shrugged. "Well, I know him as well as most, and he must have had some sort of reason."

Ahai'ikh looked relieved. "So you do not buy the rumors? That he really would betray the tribe? Because I do not believe it for one moment."

"Djuta has always been rather strange in the head," Be'shen commented. "Even more so after returning to the Kana. Perhaps being a Moru addles one somewhat." He crossed his arms. "I bet that when he comes back, he'll bring a pretty prize for Resikh."

Ahai'ikh laughed now. "From what I hear he already has one of those!" He pointed down the hallway. "I was speaking with Tefkha-Kana and he seems to know more than most. Maybe he will know where to find your missing pup."

"Tefkha?"

"You need to escape your cage more often, Brother." Ahai'ikh rolled his eyes. "If you ever went to a tavern, you'd know him by sight."

"You are a great help! I will sniff him out on my own." Be'shen gave a rude gesture and Ahai'ikh returned it before clasping his arm again. "Perhaps if I beg Djetef nicely enough he'll let me out to play again sometime. You do the same with Mahakhi; you're getting pale from not being outside enough."

"As if I am not outside enough! I will see you later, or not." He waved and went on his way, and Be'shen went on his.

It wasn't too much longer before a group of chattering Kana approached, and Be'shen looked them over to try to tell if any were the one he was looking for. He finally had to ask, and they all pointed down the hall again. He would have been annoyed if he had had anything better to do, and followed the direction they pointed in, now seeing one more Kana further down the hallway, apart from the rest. He was yawning as he walked, and Be'shen stood in the middle of the hallway.

"A long night spent?" he called out as the other lieutenant approached.

"More like an entire day without a drink," the other groused in response, and Be'shen smiled and fell into step beside him as he walked.

"The general's keeping everybody in all day, is he? I am glad I don't serve this household."

"Neither do I, but it's not as if I had much say in being here." The other Kana finished rubbing his eyes and finally looked at his companion. He halted abruptly and blinked, and Be'shen had to turn around. The other Kana seemed puzzled.

"I thought I knew almost everyone in the tribe," he said. "So how come your face is new?"

"Because it spends most of the day locked in Lord Djetef's household. You are Tefkha?"

Tefkha's shoulders relaxed. "Oh. You must be Be'shen. Resikh spoke of you once or twice. You look for him?"

Be'shen nodded. "I have to drag him back home for a spell. His father is looking for him."

"Well, he is most likely either out with the others, or in his quarters with his Moru. He has a very strange Moru." Tefkha held up his hands and gestured in what Be'shen assumed was supposed to be an approximation of Heth'anet's body. "Up here she is female, while down here she is..."

"I've already met the strange Moru, thank you." Be'shen grinned and walked on. "I'll be dragging him off now."

He sensed Tefkha staring after him as he went, and on cue, heard his footsteps hurrying to follow. Tefkha appeared again at his side, panting slightly. "Do you ever plan on leaving Djetef's sight again?" he asked, and Be'shen had to suppress another grin at the bluntness of the question.

"Perhaps, if I ever find the pup. He doesn't visit his father nearly enough."

"Perhaps you would like to join my men and me for a drink sometime? If I do not know you, that means you do not get out nearly enough."

"A friendly offer," Be'shen said, and saw how Tefkha's eyes lit up. "But no thank you." They dimmed again; Be'shen had to fight not to laugh at how obvious the lieutenant was. "I do not much care for drinking."

"Oh." Tefkha blinked, suddenly looking awkward. He slowed down while Be'shen kept going. "Well...perhaps another time then."

"Perhaps." Be'shen waved over his shoulder. "Farewell."

He left Tefkha behind, focusing his attention back on the task at hand. Querying another guard helped him find the location of Resikh's quarters, and once he arrived he stretched out his arm to knock on the door before hesitating. Mouth twitching, he leaned toward the door and listened. It was quiet, though he could smell a faint musk. The corner of his mouth twisted up and instead of knocking he silently pushed the door open and stuck his head in.

Inside, he spotted Resikh lying on the bed and panting heavily, while the female--Heth'anet--gripped his wings and pushed into him. The look on his face was so strained and the scene was so ludicrous that Be'shen started laughing out loud. Heth'anet's head immediately jerked up--she looked more surprised than embarrassed--but Resikh gasped and popped upwards, nearly throwing her off. He grabbed at a sheet and pressed it against his erection, his face going a deep red.

"Be'shen!" he yelled, sounding more furious than anything. Be'shen only laughed harder, leaning over to put his hands on his knees. Heth'anet pulled herself out of Resikh and moved to the corner of the bed, only halfheartedly covering herself up as the Kana started scrabbling around for clothes. "Do you have nothing better to do than humiliate me!"

"I'm--I'm sorry, Brother." Be'shen choked and rubbed at his streaming eyes. "You are just such a cute pair."

Heth'anet glanced at Resikh as he finally found his kilt pushed halfway under the bed, pulling it out and looking around some more. "Brother?" she asked, pointing at Be'shen, then at Resikh. Resikh's ears went bright red and he scowled.

"Hardly! Though he is as annoying as one!" He continued looking around; Heth'anet blushed a little and produced his loincloth from among the sheets. Resikh accepted it and Be'shen howled and doubled over.

"Keep looking! You'll find your armor on the ceiling!"

"What do you want?" Resikh snapped. He sat up and started tying on his loincloth, which was difficult, as he was still engorged and throbbing. He finally gave up on making himself look unexcited, scowling anew and flinging his kilt around himself.

"I apologize, Brother, honestly." Be'shen wiped his eyes again and tried to catch his breath. "But You-Know-Who wished for me to call you back to the house."

"What? What for?" Resikh's anger changed to confusion, and he stood up now, smoothing down his kilt as best as he could, considering the distinct swell in the middle. "Was I supposed to meet him there--?"

"No, but he does not like the thought of you living here in such times. He would prefer you at home. He has his reservations about this Hawk Tribe living under the same roof as you."

Resikh's brow furrowed. "The Hawk Tribe? I've seen General Dja'mui. He is nobody to be afraid of, at least not now."

"I would likely agree with you, Brother, but your father is of the old-fashioned class and does not trust him."

"Father?" Heth'anet echoed.

Be'shen smiled at her. "Yes, it's time to go back to the household. I'm sorry you've spent so little time here, pretty!"

"I can care for myself," Resikh said crossly. "I don't have to have him mothering me every moment of every day. I took Heth'anet, isn't he happy enough?" Be'shen cringed, and Resikh immediately turned to the slave. "I did not mean it that way! Please believe me. I admit...I wasn't very happy at first, but since then..."

Be'shen waved. "You can apologize later. She's a much better woman than most you'd find, so she'll forgive you. Come, your father's going to get antsy if I delay much longer. And I think your friend was making eyes at me."

"My friend--?"

"Yes, yes. That drunkard in the blue lappets."

Resikh flushed again. "Tefkha is no drunkard! He can hold his drink much better than I can. And he's hardly my 'friend.'"

"For being hardly your friend, you are a little too quick to defend him." Resikh's ears went a very distinct shade of crimson and Be'shen grinned. "Do not give me cause to think you two are more than friends. Hurry up, get out of bed. You, pretty one," and he waved at Heth'anet, "find yourself some clothing also, else all of the Kana within the city walls will be lusting after you, too."

Heth'anet blushed but obeyed. It wasn't too long before the two of them were dressed, and Be'shen gestured Resikh out of the room as if he were his guardian. Resikh scowled but said nothing; Heth'anet gave Be'shen a curious look and followed. He fell into step beside Resikh as they went down the hall.

"Mahakhi doesn't even know I'll be leaving," Resikh groused.

"I'll have somebody clear it up with him later," Be'shen replied. "Gods, you're touchy today. I thought you would jump at the chance to get out of here, with how black it is lately. Your other friend has caused almost everybody an earful of trouble."

He saw Resikh's face flush just a little, but pretended not to. They walked in silence for a short while before the younger Kana spoke.

"Be'shen...how much do you know about him?"

"Hm?" Be'shen paused before answering. "As much as is necessary, I suppose."

"Do you believe he would betray the tribe?"

"What I believe, Brother, and what actually happened..."

"I know, I know...but do you?"

Be'shen shrugged. "He did not seem like the kind to just go off betraying...so no, I don't believe that's why he left. The real 'why' is up to him."

There was another long pause, the hallway silent but for the clacking of their sandals against the floor. Heth'anet yawned and rubbed her eyes.

Resikh's voice was small. "How...how did you know? About him and me?"

Be'shen grinned. "You are not the most discreet Kana in the world, Res. Everybody knows about you and Djuta."

Resikh's face turned redder. "Everybody?"

A nod and a shrug. "I see not why it's bothering you now of all times. You mean it was supposed to be a secret? We have only known for years now."

"Years?" Resikh grimaced. "Did you tell my father?"

"I did not have to--he found out on his own."

Resikh groaned and covered his face.

Be'shen snorted goodnaturedly. "Why is this even bothering you? Gods, but you're in a poor mood! I blame him for not being here to cheer you up!"

"How was I so obvious? What did I even do?"

Be'shen arched an eyebrow. "You want the truth, Brother?"

Resikh's muzzle wrinkled. "Yes, I want the truth! Else I would not have asked!"

Be'shen shrugged again. "Very well. For one thing, you certainly wanted to beat him at swordfighting. All those days you kept me busy training you, just to try to defeat him and never once doing so. You never even gave up though."

"So? So I wished to beat him! Why does this make you think--"

"Almost every time you saw him, rather than steam and fuss about how he'd beaten you, you'd get this look on your face. This stupid puppy dog look." Resikh's brows drew together and his muzzle wrinkled. "No, not quite like that. Your eyes were bigger, and you didn't do that to your nose."

"I have NEVER looked like a stupid puppy dog!"

"You did whenever Djuta was around."

Resikh punched Be'shen in the arm, hard. Heth'anet blinked; Be'shen winced and rubbed at it.

"I taught you that too, not that you'll ever give me credit..."

"Stop being an ass! Tell me how I was so obvious! I know already that Djuta would never have given it away. So what was it that I did?"

"Do you remember when you had those two nights off from training, and I would bring out all those lanterns into the courtyard while the two of you sparred?"

Resikh nodded, looking puzzled.

Be'shen smiled. "Well, the two of you sparred just fine without the lanterns in your own room, so why you needed my help is beyond me."

Resikh's eyes grew as wide as saucers, and crimson shot up into his face. "You were LISTENING to us?" he cried, and Be'shen started laughing.

"Not that I even tried! All I had to do was walk past your room and hear it! 'Oooh Djuta, oooooohhh Brother, oooohhhh Djuuutaaaa--'"

Resikh whirled on him and shoved him so hard that he lost his balance, slamming into a pillar. Heth'anet gasped and jumped back. "I NEVER SAID THAT!!" Resikh bellowed, fists clenched.

Be'shen shook his head dizzily, grabbing onto the column to try to pull himself up. He rubbed at his smarting skull and still managed to grin; Heth'anet had taken Resikh's arm as if to hold him back, though he was still fuming. Be'shen chuckled.

"All right, Brother, perhaps not those words. But if you had been ABLE to speak instead of letting out all those noises, then that's exactly what I think you would have said. Don't try to tell me you weren't even moaning during that!"

"Bastard!" Resikh bared his teeth and turned away, stalking off. Heth'anet cast Be'shen a look that might have contained an apology before following; Be'shen hurried to catch up.

"Honestly, Brother, why are you so mad at me?" he asked. "I did not ever listen in on you. Neither did your father, but somehow he found out too. When you love somebody it's rather difficult to hide, especially when the two of you are under the same roof. Overnight. In the same room!"

"Do not call me 'Brother'! I am hardly your brother!"

"I'm closer to a brother than anyone else here at the moment. That reminds me, Brother, aren't you forgetting something? Or someone?"

Resikh slowed down and turned back to glare at him. Be'shen coughed and waved at Heth'anet, then back toward Resikh's room. The other Kana gave him a blank look so he sighed.

"Gods...your memory must be going. I thought you had another under your care at the moment, though I could be wrong..."

Resikh's ears pricked up and he gasped. "Rithukh'het!!" He turned and sprinted back down the hallway. "She said I could leave her in the Moru quarters for now, if I wanted privacy with Heth...I cannot believe I left her behind!"

He disappeared from their view. Be'shen leaned against the pillar and started picking a speck of dirt away from his pectoral. "Is he always so flighty, Heth?"

Heth'anet flushed a little and lifted her shoulders. "To be preoccupied...to suppose."

The two of them waited until Resikh returned with the other Moru, looking rather chastened by now. He shot Be'shen a dirty look as the others fell into step, finishing their walk down the halls and down the steps, out of the building. Rithukh'het shielded her eyes from the sunlight and Heth'anet started talking to her in Moru. It wasn't long before the two women were chattering like old friends, and Be'shen nudged at Resikh's elbow, keeping his voice low.

"Seriously, Res; is it Djuta who's got you all on edge? Do you know something about all this?"

Resikh's face went slightly red. "He did not tell me anything more than what he told anyone else. He didn't even confide in Rithukh'het, so there's nothing I know."

"He had any reason to leave?"

"If he did, he did not tell me!"

"He would not have to tell you, Brother. You know him better than that. Come on now and tell me what you know. It will not pass beyond the two of us, I swear on my honor."

Resikh sighed. "I know he would not leave for good...because he would not leave Rithukh'het. He put his very position on the line for Khetai. If he did this for a secondary mate, he would never abandon his first, especially when she's expecting. I know he will be back...but I do not know when." He shut his eyes and his brow furrowed in worry. "And if anything Dja'mui-Kana says is true, and we are forced to flee..."

Be'shen gave him a frank look. "That's supposing a bit much, Brother. That may be very far off in the future, if ever."

"Yes, but what if his story is true? And Djuta has not finished his business by then? I dread to even ponder it..."

"Then cease pondering. And tell me why you think he would go, with a pup on the way."

"I don't know." Resikh sounded genuinely confused. Be'shen tilted his head back and looked skyward.

"Well then...why do we not guess? It can hurt little more than what they're already saying about him..."

"He would not have left just because of that lieutenant." Resikh's face darkened. "So don't even ponder that story."

"Did I say I would? I already told you what I know about you two, didn't I? Djuta may be hotheaded, but he's no whore."

Resikh looked toward the ground as if ashamed. "Be'shen...Brother, I'm...I'm sorry for pushing you and for yelling at you..."

"This is very little compared to some of the fights we've had, Res; put it from your mind. I know you're only worried. I will never know Djuta-Kana as well as you do...but I know that you would never pick a poor Kana." Resikh lifted his head to peer at him and Be'shen smiled. "Besides, if he had not been good enough for you, I'd have tanned his tail out of Djetef's house the moment he set foot in it."

Resikh offered a tiny smile. Be'shen held up a hand.

"That still leaves the question open--why he would choose now to be so hotheaded? We already know it's not because he's a whore, so why?"

"He is no more a traitor than he is a whore," Resikh said softly.

Be'shen nodded. "This I agree with. So he must have something planned." He made a face. "If he means to go after that lieutenant, then why didn't he just do that and get it over with? His target cannot be Lord Fe'kheru. It must be someone else..."

"What are you saying?"

"With what little I know of him...if he is not doing something out of lust, or out of treason, then he's doing it out of honor, or..." Be'shen trailed off and frowned. "Or..."

"Or what?" Resikh halted, Rithukh'het letting out a squeak as she nearly bumped into him. "What are you saying? Out of honor or out of what?"

"Well..." The Kana looked uneasy. "I only have what little I've observed of him in the past years to go on, Res, and you are the only one who can speak positively...but if there is one thing Djuta hates besides slights to his honor, it's leaving something unfinished."

Resikh looked confused.

Be'shen gestured. "Think of it, Brother. I remember times when you were so tired of fighting with him that you tried to beg off for the day, and he would never let you rest. One time he even kept you up after moonrise just so you two could finish sparring. You slept for two whole days. And you saw how he reacted at the trial. He did not feel it was finished. He would rather have--"

"He would rather have risked trial again than let justice go unserved," Resikh murmured. He pressed his hand to his forehead. "Gods, what is he doing, Be'shen? I know how angry he was when he wasn't served punishment for Ri'hus. He would not speak to me for days. What is he doing now?"

"Even I heard on the wind what that lieutenant said to Mahakhi," Be'shen said gravely. "He said our fight would not be over with the Yellow Sands Tribe."

Resikh lowered his hand and grasped Be'shen's arm. "You mean that he--but--but that's madness! Even Djuta is not that foolish--!"

Be'shen shrugged and pulled on his arm so that they continued walking. "He has seen a lot of grief these past few months, Res...Nehekhi dying...that Bakh'asu bastard...all that business with Private Ri'hus and Lord Tas'hukh and such, and the trial and Khetai and Rik'hia. And losing his pup. I believe that was when he made up his mind, back then. This lieutenant, this She'hekha, just spurred him on with what he was already set to do."

"But he can't take on a whole tribe by himself! He can't be so stupid!"

"I do not think he is stupid. He is merely tired. And frustrated. Frustrated with all of the hoops we have been jumping through to avoid a coming fight, and tired of waiting for it to come." Another shrug. "If he could not get Mahakhi to agree to a fight, then he will go off and find the fight on his own...or even start one." He rolled his eyes. "Gods! I'm beginning to wonder if I was right about him being a good Kana after all, Res...he may not be a traitor, and he may not be a whore, but I'll be damned if he's not thick skulled beyond belief sometimes."

"What do we do, Be'shen?" Be'shen cringed at the tone of Resikh's voice; it was exactly the same as it had been one time when he'd found the younger Kana nearly getting in trouble as a pup. Even the look on his face was the same. He sighed and grasped Resikh's hand, which had been tugging at his elbow. He pulled the hand away, taking note that the two females had long stopped talking and were watching them now.

"Res...Brother." He gave him a reassuring look. "Do not worry about it. Do you remember how I would always save you from trouble when you were little? Until you learned how to help yourself? You will make it through this as well and of course I will be helping you. Don't be so silly as to think I would bail out on you now."

"But..."

"I said do not worry. Let's go back to your father's place and get you settled in. I have even asked in advance for your old quarters. These two will be just fine in the harem and they'll have others to talk to. And while you're settling in there I will go and speak with somebody."

"Who?"

"Never you mind this. All I will tell you is that I now find it a bit unfortunate that I was not one of Mahakhi's war council, but I'll find somebody who was. And you, as I said, will get some rest. I'll take no excuses."

Resikh gave in with a meek look, just as he had when he was little. Be'shen nodded and gestured them toward the gate of Captain Djetef's house, and they entered.

* * * * *

"Bakh'asu."

The name was said aloud, and it sent a jolt along Djuta's spine, making his body stiffen in response. He froze with his sword in midair; he had been sparring in the courtyard with Fa'rukha, but the other Kana had long gone.

Their conversation as they fought was still clear in his mind, however. For some reason he could not remember the comment he had made, but it had been a casual one; yet somehow he'd let slip that he had been with General Nehara. At night. This had effectively stilled Fa'rukha's sword, and if it hadn't been for the look on his face, Djuta would have taken advantage of the opening in his defenses.

"Nehara?" he'd asked, in a stunned voice. "You spent the night with Nehara?"

There had been no use in denying it, even though he sensed that Fa'rukha was not always very astute. He'd lowered his own sword and tried to keep his voice neutral, yet mildly amused.

"And why are you so surprised that I suddenly go sen'akha? When you have done nothing but harp on it before? Is your general off limits?"

Fa'rukha had blinked. "No...you don't understand. You were with him? He was with you? You were...together?"

Djuta's mouth twitched. "This is generally how it happens..."

"No; you don't understand! I am not poking at you...I just find it rather..."

"Hard to believe? You think I'd not be good enough?"

"This isn't it! You have no idea, have you? He did not tell you? Nehara does not bed just anyone. Only those he trusts implicitly!"

Djuta paused, then leaned his sword against the ground.

"So you are saying I should not feel special, as I am not the only one..."

He'd meant it as a joke, but Fa'rukha had not taken it that way. The other Kana had dropped his sword to the ground and shaken his hands and his head at the same time.

"No, no! You don't understand. ONLY those he trusts! Nehara does not trust easily. No matter what you may think. It is only those he would entrust his life to that he allows into his bed. You should feel...I don't know...honored!"

Djuta's mouth twitched again and he couldn't help the smirk that had begun to creep up his face.

"What of his top men? Those who serve him directly? Kheten and Tes'khi?"

Fa'rukha grimaced. "No, not them...you think he would trust them with his life? Then you have a low opinion of him..."

"And so what of She'hekha?"

Fa'rukha paused and his ears reddened a little. "Well...of course."

That had certainly been a surprise. "You mean that Nehara and She'hekha..."

"Look, it is not as if this is the way She'hekha goes. He prefers females if that's what you're insinuating! But it's not as if one can just turn down..."

"And so what of you?" Djuta practically grinned at him when his face went bright red. "I know that you are one of his most trusted. Am I right?" He awaited an answer but got none. "Fa'rukha...?"

Fa'rukha's ears went crimson to match his face. "Look--it was only that once! Only one time! And only because--well--what would YOU have said?"

That had managed to get a laugh out of Djuta, though this had annoyed Fa'rukha to no end. The other Kana had picked up his sword and turned away with a scowl, his sandals clacking as he stormed from the courtyard.

"And now I suppose I will hear no END of the sen'akha jokes from YOU...!"

Djuta had been too busy laughing to reply. The thought of Fa'rukha blushing furiously while Nehara mated him was an amusing one. Still, he'd missed the other Kana's company once he'd gone...but if he was alone in the courtyard now, who had spoken that name...?

"Bakh'asu."

Djuta slowly turned around, his blood feeling like river water. Nehara stood behind him with his arms crossed and a mildly amused look on his face. Djuta said nothing, but it was not as if he could have spoken anyway; for on hearing the name, his heart had started up a horrid pounding, and his throat had blocked. He tried to swallow, unsuccessfully. How had the general found out? Had Yekh'iet changed her mind, and told all about him? Did Nehara know his true purpose here now--?

His feelings must not have conveyed themselves upon his face, however, as Nehara merely gave a slight smile and tilted his head.

"You said this name in your sleep. Several times, in fact."

Djuta let out his breath and felt his muscles relax. His relief must have shown. Nehara's smile grew into a smirk.

"He is the one you were thinking of, then?" he inquired. "While you were with me?"

Djuta stared at him for a moment, trying to decide what to say. It was obvious that Nehara was good at detecting lies; he'd managed to see at least partly through Djuta's stated reason for being here. He decided to tell as much of the truth as he dared.

"I thought of him, yes. Your eyes reminded me."

"My eyes?" Nehara still smirked. "And so that is all? With the way you moaned about him, I should think he left you quite impressed."

"On the contrary," Djuta said quietly. "I did not like being with him."

"Oh?" Nehara arched an eyebrow, seeming genuinely surprised. His smile returned. "So that is why you did not enjoy it."

Djuta said nothing in response to this. Nehara came toward him and draped his arms over Djuta's shoulders, touching their foreheads together. Djuta had to fight to keep his breath even.

"So none of that was truly about me...was it?" he murmured; Djuta's eyes flitted to the side, yet there was no one in sight, not even any guards. "This 'Bakh'asu' came into your mind and spoiled the entire thing."

"I did not say it was..."

"Of course you did not. You would not wish to be rude, would you?" His smile deepened. "I suppose this means I shall just have to try again...and not remind you so much of this Bakh'asu." He trailed a finger down Djuta's breast. "I have the feeling you would enjoy yourself much more, if you knew you were with me."

Djuta still said nothing. He couldn't stop staring into Nehara's eyes, and as long as he did that, no words would come.

Nehara drew away from him, but didn't seem to be offended. He still kept his arm upon Djuta's shoulder and lifted one finger as if chiding him.

"I've heard some other things about you..."

"As I've heard about you," Djuta finally managed to say. Nehara gave him a questioning look and he went on. "Such as that I should not feel quite as unique in your attention toward me."

Nehara stared at him coolly for a moment, then lifted his head slightly. "Ah...She'hekha has been speaking with you then? Or Fa'rukha?"

"It was the latter."

Nehara laughed. "I suppose he made it sound very amusing...he was not the most enjoyable. Imagine yourself, as last night, only three times more confused."

For some reason, the image made the corner of Djuta's mouth twist up. Nehara saw this and smiled again.

"Once in a while Tes'khi will tease him about it, though not so often anymore, as Fa'rukha has taken to blackening his eyes when he does...I take it that Tes'khi is only jealous that he has never been in the same position." He tilted his head to the side inquiringly. "You would not be so petty as to be jealous now, would you?"

"I'm not certain. Should I be?"

The general's mouth twitched. "Let me put it to you this way. I was with She'hekha and Fa'rukha only once."

"As you were with me."

"Yet I had plans of changing that."

Djuta fell silent now. Nehara continued smiling and pulled his arm away.

"At a more opportune time, of course. And in a better location, as I know you don't like pools." He took a step away, then glanced back over his shoulder. "That reminds me of when you interrupted me...I have caught wind that you were speaking with my mate."

Djuta's heartbeat sped up again. "I find her intriguing," he said; it was the first thing that came to his mind. Nehara only smiled again, but then turned and came back toward him, again touching his shoulder and drawing him close.

"You are curious about her? Does he remind you of your own mate? This one you spoke of...the one who thought she was a male?"

"She did not think she was a male; she simply pretended to be. And yes, Yekh'iet does remind me of her, slightly."

"You miss your home and your mate?"

Djuta paused. "My mate, yes. My home...no."

Nehara let go of his shoulder. The look on his face told Djuta that somehow he'd said the right thing. The general leaned toward him and his mouth brushed against Djuta's ear, sending shivers down his back; yet the gesture was more than a simple kiss, for he whispered along with it.

"If you are interested in her, you may have her for the night. I would not mind. If you feel she could put you at ease."

"Ease?" Djuta echoed. His own voice sounded abnormally loud in his mind.

Nehara's eyes glittered. "You do not want to be so tense the next time I invite you in...do you?"

The lieutenant let out his breath. "No," he said, and it sounded sincere. "I do not."

"Good." Nehara pulled back and again they faced each other like a general and his inferior. "I will just have to keep myself busy with other things in the meantime. I'm afraid I have no time to spar with you today, else I would spend all afternoon out here...perhaps you can drag Fa'rukha back in." He smiled slightly. "You will receive a visitor later tonight."

Djuta tipped his head. Nehara did likewise and turned once more, leaving the courtyard. Djuta watched him go, and only once he was gone did he let out his breath, not even realizing that he'd been holding it until now.

Yekh'iet. He said I could have her...for one night. She cannot help but speak to me, then...

This thought raised his spirits a little, though he tried not to get too hopeful. He sheathed his sword, suddenly tired of the heat, and retreated back inside.

* * * * *

Djuta did much pacing before nightfall finally came.

He tried to rein in his impatience, but found it impossible. He couldn't understand his overwhelming need to speak with the strange Moru alone, but it was there nonetheless. He glanced more and more often at the balcony and at the door as the shadows of evening fell, and when the knock finally came he jumped, all of his senses jumping to attention at the same time. He let out his breath and would have gone for the door except that his legs weren't working now, for some reason.

He tried for a moment to get them to work, without success; he kept the frustration out of his voice as he called, "Enter."

The door opened, just slightly; and his breath caught when she peered in at him. Djuta and Yekh'iet stared at each other for a moment before he waved her forward. "Please come in," he said; she opened the door further and stepped into the room, shutting it behind her. She turned and came toward him, stepping silently and carefully; when she was several paces away she stopped, her hands folded before her. She kept her head lowered but her eyes met his. He wasn't certain about the look on her face.

He found that, now that she was here, he didn't know what he wanted to say.

"My name is Djuta," he finally said; it must be better than nothing.

Yekh'iet's head moved, just slightly. "To know," she said in a soft voice. He felt rather foolish; of course she must know his name, if she knew about him. He bit the inside of his mouth before continuing.

"I...I asked that you come here tonight...did General Nehara tell you?"

She nodded, then came forward until she stood just before him. He stared at her, surprised by her boldness; then she reached for one of the straps of her dress and slowly started to pull it down, so her breast showed more than it had before. Djuta flushed and immediately jumped at her, grabbing her hand before she could pull the strap off of her arm. She gave him a puzzled look and he felt his ears burning.

"No!" he blurted out, then tried to calm himself down. "You--you don't have to do that."

Yekh'iet's look was still confused. Djuta slipped the strap back over her shoulder, glancing away from her chest as he did so. She allowed him to do this, but as soon as he pulled away she spoke again.

"Hakh'tua?" she asked.

He couldn't tell how he looked, but his face must surely have been red by now. "No--no hakh'tua."

The look she gave him was even more confused now. He imagined her pondering the other possibilities--hakh'tehi, khef'khef, who knew what else--and hastened to speak before she could.

"I...I'm not interested in that...I only wish to talk. This is all."

Now her confusion melted away, replaced by the same guarded look as before. He wondered what could have made her so distrustful toward him, and then wondered how often Nehara lent her out to others. He'd felt that the general found her too valuable to do such a thing on a whim, yet the way she'd reacted to him made him start to feel otherwise. He took her hand and she glanced down at it.

"Please...I only wanted to speak with you. This was the only way I knew how...please?"

Yekh'iet still gave him the suspicious look, but when he stepped back and gestured toward the bed, she didn't back away. Still holding her hand, he walked slowly back to it and sat down; she had no choice but to follow, pausing when she reached him, but at least she finally sat down beside him. Djuta let out a breath. She folded her hands in her lap and looked away although she still peered at him from the corner of her eye.

"I apologize," Djuta said, almost before he knew that he was saying it. She lifted her head to look at him now and he hurried to continue. "For tricking you and him like this...but I didn't know any other way. You would not speak to me the other day."

She said nothing in response, and he began to despair of ever getting her to talk to him. "I heard that you can see things," he went on, "things that have not happened yet. That you know things about people without them telling you. That you are a Seer."

Yekh'iet stared at him for a moment or two. Finally she tilted her head slightly forward, and back again.

"Yes," she said in a quiet voice, and Djuta's heart rose.

"When you were with Nehara," he pressed. "You knew that I was there...didn't you?"

Yekh'iet nodded.

"Yet you did not tell him...and when he asked you about me you said nothing. Was this because you truly knew nothing? Or for another reason?"

The female sat silent for a moment or two, as if considering whether to answer or not. Djuta waited this time and forced himself not to fidget. After a while she turned away, her gaze falling on the floor.

"To not get Djuta-Kana in trouble," she murmured.

Djuta frowned, uncertain if he'd heard correctly. "Trouble...? And so...you do know about me? Why I am here?"

Silence. Yekh'iet lifted her head and met his eyes.

"Yes."

Djuta let out his breath. "What do you know about me?"

"Everything," Yekh'iet replied.

The lieutenant stared at her this time, in disbelief. Seeing this, she reached out and took his hand in her own. Djuta instinctively tried to pull away at first, until he saw that she was only pressing her fingertips to his, making her hand a mirror image of his own. She held her hand up and his followed so that their palms were pressed together. She didn't break her stare.

"Hup'khit," she said, and Djuta felt a shock. "Resikh. Tas'hukh. Bakh'asu. Mahakhi. Nehekhi. Ameni. Rithukh'het. Ri'hus. Khetai. Binena. Rik'hia. Fe'kheru. She'hekha. Fa'rukha. Nehara." Her fingers curled around his and Djuta found himself trapped by her eyes. "To be once Moru, twice Kana born. Soldier and slave of the captain. Victim and slayer of the Moru-who-was-Kana. To face the tribunal with a guilty heart yet win. To win two mates, yet lose one to the law. Twice of child bereft. To sell the slave to save her. To betray the tribe, yet not to betray your men. To be honored of Nehara, yet..." She trailed off here, and once more Djuta released a breath, unaware that he'd been holding it. Yekh'iet let go of his hand, and he saw her shoulders lift slightly.

"To know," she said, and left it at that.

It was a while before Djuta could recover his voice. "You...you know all about me," he whispered, and she nodded. "How do you know this? How long have you known about me?"

"Since born," Yekh'iet said, and though he wasn't sure whether she meant since his birth or since her birth, it didn't matter, as either one was incredible. He shook his head and rubbed at his muzzle.

"And so...you simply know about people...before you have ever met them? Do you never forget about any of them?"

"To always remember," Yekh'iet said. She tapped the side of her head. "To see. Like paintings. To never forget."

"Is this the same with everyone else? The general? Everyone else you know?"

In response, she reached out and took his hand again. For some reason his first instinct again was to pull away, but she held fast--and he gasped when something suddenly flashed before his eyes. He both knew and didn't know, at once, that this was one of the gifts of a Seer--a vision--and though it happened to someone else, he felt as if it were happening to him as well.

He was in a room, in some Kana house--he didn't recognize the setting, but the light was dim. There was a faraway sound of yelling, coming closer; the room jiggled and he suddenly found it hard to breathe as something went around his throat. His claws dug into it and he found that it was an arm, holding his head in a lock; he felt his heels drag against the floor as he was pulled along, the yelling louder but no more distinct. It sounded like he was listening through a fog. He tried to yell himself, but no sound came out--at least, none that he could hear.

Just as his vision was beginning to go fuzzy, he felt himself thrown over something, something else grinding hard into his back before he could think of getting up. His left arm was grabbed and pulled out to the side, and he felt something wrapping around his wrist, then pulling tight enough to make him gasp. The same happened with his right wrist, then his ankles, so he was spread out on his stomach. He was too surprised at first to raise his head, to see what was going on--but then the weight lifted from his back, and was replaced by an abrupt, shredding, burning sting. Djuta let out a shriek which came out only muffled. He heard a crack, then the feeling returned, lancing across the first. He jerked against the bonds around his wrists and ankles, crying out loud, but the shooting pains only continued, one after the other, growing faster and faster, the yelling growing louder and more furious. Eventually the pain was so extensive that he stopped responding entirely, instead lying limply with his face pressed into what felt like a pillow. His ribs rose and fell in pained breathing, and the stinging subsided, replaced by a dull throbbing ache all throughout his back. He lay in agony like this, waiting for his consciousness to black out.

But that didn't happen. Something grabbed him by his ears and yanked his head back so that he flinched. The voice came directly at him, but he still couldn't understand what it was saying. It was not as loud now, but just as angry sounding. His head was released and fell back to what he now knew to be a bed. It shuddered with movement as he felt another weight placed upon it. Something briefly brushed against his leg and he jerked; after another moment or two he felt someone grasp his buttocks--only now did he realize that he was naked--and alarm lit through him as soon as he thought of Bakh'asu. But Bakh'asu had never raped him in a bed. Nevertheless he started struggling anew, pulling hard on the bonds around his wrists and ankles. He felt them cutting into his skin. Something struck him in the back of the head and he went limp, his mind dazed. Claws dug into his backside and finally the voice that had been yelling incoherently in his ear clarified as if emerging from a fog, spitting and venomous.

"You will never be anything more than a worthless, useless Moru! So you deserve to be treated like one! Stupid whore!"

And now, the familiar pain of someone thrusting into him; Djuta jerked again and barked at the feeling, but what followed was far worse than anything Bakh'asu had done. The other's claws tore into him as he pushed, and instead of deep and pleasured as Bakh'asu's thrusting had been, this was violent, angry, hateful. Again and again his insides were rammed up into, until he felt that his innards would fall out. He gritted his teeth and whimpered in pain, but the frenzied motion didn't cease. If anything it grew even harder and faster, and he felt the claws rake across his back, over the already torn and bleeding skin. He cried out, his body lurching.

"You feel that? Stupid Moru? Good! This is all that a shiftless slave deserves!" The other Kana--for surely such brutal treatment had to be at the hands of a Kana--rammed up inside him particularly hard, and when he pulled back Djuta felt the slick sensation of blood between his legs. All instincts to fight fled him now, and he sank back into the bed, letting his arms and legs go loose. His own member throbbed, yet he felt no pleasure in any of this; everything started to go numb, yet not numb enough. He could still feel the pounding motion inside him, still hear the voice spitting in his ear.

"And so how much like a Kana does this make you feel? The money I've spent having you train? All wasted! Because you were never a Kana to begin with! I should have throttled your neck the moment you were born, worthless FECES!"

Djuta let his eyes flutter closed. But no matter how much he might have wanted to, his body refused to lose consciousness. It was almost as if he could feel the mind of this other one--the one whose body he now occupied--taking over, and for some unfathomable reason it refused to slip into darkness. He felt it was even silently taunting their assailant, infuriating him by rebuffing oblivion. He could hear the Kana grunting in frustration as he thrust, and even sensed a tiny glimmer of satisfaction from the body that he occupied. His intestines ached; he finally felt the Kana pull out of him, the warm trickle of blood running down between his legs. The yelling became incoherent once more, but he still knew what to expect the moment he heard something whistling through the air. Crack--whatever it was again lashed against his back, making him jerk involuntarily--and again, and again, faster and faster, flaying his skin open--but the body that he was in merely laughed to itself, and when the whip--for it must have been a whip--laid itself one last time across his shoulders, slicing open the so-far untouched skin and nipping his wings in the process, he jerked again and felt a wave of exquisite pleasure pass over him, the sheer magnitude of it confusing him what with how much agony he otherwise felt. His hips shook against the bed and he felt his seed pool with the blood around his groin. It was as if the Kana saw this reaction, for he screamed in a rage and brought the whip down again, and yet again--each time Djuta gasped and arched, climaxing once, twice, three times as the pain lanced through him. He could still feel the blood leaking from his anus, and this, along with the streams of it running down his shredded back, was what finally made him drag himself out of this bizarre vision before it could go any further.

He came to with a gasp of shock, finding himself still seated upon his bed, Yekh'iet still holding his hand. He pulled away from her abruptly, panting for breath; when he noticed that he was hard and excited he clamped his hand over his crotch to hide the erection, not believing that such a horrid scene could arouse him so.

Yet the longer he sat there trying to recover himself--Yekh'iet sat waiting patiently, not speaking a word--the more he knew that he was not the one who had been feeling pleasure during the attack. It had been the other person whose body he had been in...Djuta's body had merely reacted reflexively, living through this vision. He had not enjoyed the pain, but this other one had.

Djuta lifted his head to look Yekh'iet in the eye, still gasping weakly.

"She'hekha," he panted. Yekh'iet nodded.

"To grow to learn that nesakh'ai is pain," she said softly. "To learn to live with it, to thrive under it."

Djuta sat panting a moment or so longer, trying to settle his nerves. His penis throbbed painfully; he kept his hand over it in the hopes that the feeling would go away, and looked up at Yekh'iet again.

"So...you know all about him...and about me. And the others." She nodded. "And you can tell the future, when...when you are with someone."

She nodded again, her cheeks pinkening a bit. She bit her lip before sliding closer to him and taking his hand away from his groin. Djuta flushed and put out his other hand to stop her, but she shook her head and brushed it away. She slipped her hand beneath his kilt and loosened his loincloth, her ears going red, and Djuta stiffened and groaned softly on feeling her fingers wrap around him. She started talking as she stroked him, as if the ahi'akhta were nothing at all.

"To...see things...when with general. To know other things always."

"It is...it is...the future...that you see when you are...with him?" Djuta panted, his eyes going shut and his chest rising and falling in tune with Yekh'iet's fondling. He couldn't keep himself from reaching down to touch her hand and guide her, and she started stroking his testicles, cupping them lightly in her palm and letting them go before sliding her fingers up his shaft again.

"Yes," she said. "To see future only at this time."

As much as his body liked the feeling, Djuta didn't like the thought of her doing what she was doing when all that he had wished to do was talk. So he forced himself to come, but not before pulling her hand away. He shook a little and Yekh'iet turned her head to look away from him. She removed her shawl and gave it to him.

Djuta took the cloth and pressed it against himself, grimacing at the stickiness. "Nehara," he said, and she looked back at him. "Does he know? Why I am really here?"

Yekh'iet seemed to think carefully before she spoke. "To know you have another reason," she replied.

"You mean that he suspects I am not telling him the truth."

She nodded.

"Fa'rukha told me he accepts only those he trusts. Does he not trust me?"

The Moru paused again. "To trust you...yes," she said. "But to know you do not tell the truth."

Djuta nodded slightly. He pulled her shawl out from under his kilt and wadded it into a ball, rising and placing it in a nearby vase. He turned back and they faced each other across the room.

"You know what I plan to do to him...don't you?"

It did not sound much like a question, but the Moru answered anyway. She nodded.

"Yes."

"Does he know? Or suspect?"

"No. To take you as a test. Lord Djuta to accept; Nehara-Master to trust you."

"If I had not gone to his bed with him then, I might not still be free right now."

A nod.

Djuta walked back and knelt down before her. Yekh'iet tensed when he took her hand, hoping that she wouldn't give him another one of the visions. The first one had rattled him enough.

"Do you know if I will be successful or not?" He shook his head when she opened her mouth. "No--do not tell me if I will succeed or fail. Just tell me if you know."

The female stared at him for a moment or two before nodding.

"Yes," she said quietly.

Djuta sighed. He squeezed her hand, and felt a bit of surprise when she squeezed his back. "I want for you to help me, then," he said. "You are the only one I know who can. This has gone on long enough and it must be put to a stop."

"To be dangerous."

"I know. But anything is better than living with the threat of more dead Kana hanging over my head." He paused. "You do not have to help me, Yekh'iet. I know your loyalty is to Nehara. If you refused, I would not harm you, ever. No matter what, I would not even tell him, if I do not succeed, that you were a part of this. To his knowledge all that we have done is make love tonight."

Her cheeks went pink and she averted her eyes.

"But if you say yes, then I can help you also," Djuta promised. "I'll take you with me when I go." His voice lowered. "I saw how he treated you--with your shawl. I know you did not like that. A Seer would be highly valued in my tribe, and I would make certain you are treated well. There are many who would tell you I always keep my word."

Yekh'iet's eyes rose to meet his. He squeezed her hand again.

"Please at least consider it, Yekh'iet. You have already helped me more than enough. But if you help me again, I can take you away from this."

"Nehara-Master to not be cruel," she murmured.

Djuta nodded. "I know...but he could be. In the future, especially if I succeed. I have the feeling that you will be suspected. Whatever the way it goes, you will not be safe here. But the choice is yours."

Yekh'iet looked uncertain. Djuta let go of her hand but tilted his head to look up into her eyes. They were large and brown.

"Will you please consider it?" he asked softly. "You needn't decide now. But I would like to know, when you decide."

The Moru bit her lip. She lifted her head and looked around the room, as if checking to see whether they were being watched or not. Her gaze came back to Djuta and she still chewed her lip nervously for a few seconds, then reached out and grasped his hand. He grasped hers back.

"To go to Great Red Tribe...?" she asked, and he nodded.

"Yes. I promise you you will be safe there."

Yekh'iet stared at him, and he felt almost as if she were looking right into his very heart. She then nodded, and he felt his spirits begin to lift.

"Yes," she said, her voice resolved. "To help Lord Djuta."

Continue:

"Part 63: Confession" 


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