Part 45: Plotting

DISCLAIMER: Underage character(s) involved.


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


THE YOUNG KANA had to make certain to lift his head every so often, eyes scouring the buildings along both sides of the street, otherwise he would have stared at his feet the entire time he walked. Lieutenant Meteri's blue lappets fluttered in the cool breeze coming off the river, and the sun was setting; any other time, he would have been overjoyed to be home, back in the familiar streets he had grown up in, among all the Kana he had always known. Not that long ago, he had anticipated returning here, and greeting his father Yekh'ef and his brother Hesi--even managing an aloof hello for Captain Sut'khut had seemed bearable--he had had so many thoughts of dipping his feet in the river, and telling his father and brother of everything they had missed, and joining Rura in the taverns to speak with him of the same. Meteri never drank much, but after being away for so long, he had been more than willing to make an exception.

His fingers unconsciously clutched at something which was not there. He had made himself tuck the cut lappets from Yekh'ef and Hesi and Rura into his belt, so he would not crush them in his hand any longer. His vision grew blurry, and he blinked to clear it. He lifted his head, and saw the strangely empty street. Where once it would have been filled with booths of sellers not yet ready to pack up for the day, it was now barren and echoing; the taverns which were usually full of shouting carousing Kana were mostly dark, a few Kana here and there heading back and forth, their own heads hanging. Meteri cast a glance at the households toward the further end of the town and saw how dark and still they were as well. His throat hurt.

He took a breath and steeled himself, striding down the middle of the street and toward the houses. The windows of several still glowed with the occasional lamp, but he made his way to the very end of the settlement and started back, stopping at every house as he went, one after another, in a particular order. He carried a papyrus which listed the heads of all households, and another papyrus which listed the names that had been found upon the lappets of the dead, though he didn't bother looking at them; he had remembered all the names in the space of the past hour, and every house he stopped at, he waited to see if anyone would invite him in or not. Most of the houses still contained the occasional guard or servant, some a handful of such; a few seemed to be completely barren. Meteri checked off what names he could account for as being deceased, and informed the Apsiu remaining at each household of what had become of the lord of the house. Most reacted not with much surprise, their eyes heavy and heads hanging both when he arrived and when he left, as if they had known this already; he had no reason to believe they hadn't. Word spread quickly, even in a devastated tribe.

He made his way through the city, from house to house, greeting the servants and guards, stepping into the empty ones to make certain that no Moru or pups had been left behind untended. It was one small relief that the great majority of Kana had cared for their slaves, placing them in the care of those who remained behind, so that the houses left without even a servant did not often have any Moru remaining in them; yet at least once or twice Meteri entered the Moru quarters to find a few faces peering back at him. He had to suppress a wince each time, immediately lighting a lamp and looking them over; most seemed a little hungry, and timid, yet none the worse for wear, and he had to assume that they had crept out of their quarters and helped themselves to their masters' stores while they had been away. This was the part of his self-appointed duties that he hated the most that evening; informing them that they were masterless now, and had no one to care for them. He managed to still their cries by quickly transporting them to the households of Kana who were remaining, begging that they be allowed to stay until such a time as a more suitable arrangement should be made; all of the Kana he addressed answered him wearily, yet none turned his request down. And so it was one small worry that he did not have to deal with, wondering where the Moru would be spending their next nights and getting their next meals.

He rather wished, as he handed off the most recent pair of Moru to a blacksmith and his son, that their masters had treated them more poorly, just so that he would not have had to see the grief in their eyes, when he had told them that they would not be returning.

He drew into a more prosperous part of the city, and his step slowed, his ears flaring. He had to make himself continue walking up this street, glancing uneasily at the houses. He entered that which had belonged to the father of Sergeant Rura, and found it empty and still; he knew the family had not owned any Moru. Still, he wandered from room to room, looking on at the familiar features, gazing at the furniture and the courtyard and the hallways. Here, one of Rura's chests, still standing open from when he had pulled out his last uniform, and set out on his scouting mission for Captain Sut'khut; there, a footprint in the soil beside the pool, just his father's size. A jar of wine stood in the front hall; Meteri stopped to stare down at it, remembering how the older Kana had had the habit of welcoming guests with a drink. He himself had stayed many a night in Rura's household, the two of them often sparring together. At the moment, he pulled Rura's lappet out of his belt and rubbed it with his thumb, his eyes wet. He had no one to give the lappet to.

He departed from the house, examining the next, and the next. He reached another house, much familiar, and went inside. No servants or guards greeted him, but when he neared the Moru quarters he found two females situated in the hall, and they turned and started to scurry away before he could reach them. A quiet call made them stop, though they did not come closer, instead huddling in on themselves and peering at him anxiously. They did not speak Kana, so Meteri had to address them in their own tongue--he had never been very good at speaking Moru. He did not recognize them, and knew this was not their house. After a short while he learned, mostly through gestures and broken speech, that they had in fact come from the next household over, as they had known that Moru dwelled here. A few of those Moru were missing--the door had been standing open, and so they could only assume that they had fled when their master had not returned. A peek inside the Moru quarters showed Meteri the ones remaining--a female, a girl, and a small boy, all peering back out at him with wide eyes. Meteri coaxed them out, which was made easier as soon as they recognized him; these Moru he decided to take with himself, and went back into the kitchen to fetch some bread and beer for the two females who had come to see to them. On learning that everyone within their household was accounted for--fortunately enough for them, he guessed--he gave them as much food and drink as they could carry, and sent them on their way, retreating with the other three and leaving the house behind. Meteri pulled out the first scroll and checked off Lieutenant Hesi's household as having been inspected, then tucked the papyrus away and reached down to pick up his little nephew, carrying him upon his shoulder so his small legs wouldn't grow tired. The females kept their heads low. He did not have to tell them what had become of their master.

He kept them with him as he finished inspecting the rest of the houses, then made his way back to Nahus's household. A few guards had finally been stationed here, mainly trainees from the barracks, and he handed the Moru over to them to take to one of the empty rooms and set them up for the night. He left the city and went down to the river which glimmered red in the dying light, taking off his sandals and stepping into the water. He stood there for a long while, staring eastward, as if anything were to be seen there aside from a few palm trees and then desert. He lowered his head and looked down at his reflection, wavering as it stared back up at him.

My heart feels heavy that you should be hata'tai so young in life...

Without him even realizing he was doing it, an ugly look came to his face, and he briefly wondered who this strange hateful Kana was who was staring back up at him with wrinkled muzzle and burning eyes. When he realized it was himself he had to turn away. He turned sharply toward the bank, clenching his fists, and took a step, then halted. There were soft noises coming from further down the river, and he turned his head to peer northward, trying to tell what they were coming from.

He saw another Kana sitting upon the riverbank far ahead, reeds sprouting up around him, his arms resting upon his knees and his head lowered to rest upon them so his face wasn't visible. Meteri's ear flicked and he took a step toward him, trying to tell who he was, then stopped again. The way the other Kana's wings shook, small noises escaping him, told him that he must be crying; the other Kana lifted his head after a moment and rubbed at his eye, and Meteri recognized Lieutenant Pai'akhen. He flinched to himself. Then felt both relieved and guilty that he wouldn't have to tell him about Sut'khut. Apparently he already knew.

He left before he could be noticed, heading back up toward the town and slipping inside the gate. By now night had fallen, and the street was even more silent and abandoned than before; he shivered a little, rubbing at his arms as he escaped inside the warmth of the general's hallways. He stared at the floor as he walked, his wings slumped wearily.

Just us remaining. Just a little more than a third of our former number. Most of us Moru and barely trained Kana. Sut'khut killed our tribe.

He ground his teeth and rubbed at one eye, scowling to himself. No, the East Tribe--or whichever enemy it had been--had done this. Meteri's heart hurt. He had never once hated anyone in his life...but now he felt the hatred for an entire tribe he barely even knew, and with each thought that flitted through his head, the hatred only grew that much stronger.

I do not even care anymore if we all end up dead. We will anyway, if nothing changes. At least then, some of them would be dead, too. This is the most I can hope for ever again.

He cringed--ever since he was a pup, his father had always taught him that revenge was a ridiculous thing, best left to pettier Kana--but almost as soon as he thought this, he remembered his father's face--a skeleton face--and the feeling disappeared. His claws dug into his hands and he had to force himself to take a breath and let it out before he could start screaming at the top of his lungs.

Fe'kheru-Kana is right...we will wait, and think first...and then seek our revenge. So we do not end up like Sut'khut...

He managed to calm his nerves somewhat, and finally lifted his head. He was exhausted--he hadn't slept properly since they had discovered the bodies, yet he knew he would still not be able to sleep. He made a brief circuit of the house, pausing outside Fe'kheru's rooms to hear the captain and his mate, busy within; he sighed and moved on. At least one of them would pass a peaceful night. Meteri had not taken a Moru of his own yet, so he had no one to return to.

His step faltered when he realized this, and his heart squeezed in his chest. No one to return to... It had more meanings than one, and all of them were true, now.

He bit back the tears that threatened to wash up into his eyes again--he had wept already, there was no time or place for more of it right now--and took in a breath. He glanced around himself and slowed again when he saw the door to his right. These were General Nahus's Moru quarters. He stopped and stared at the door, chewing on his claw, before turning to it and stepping forward. He had to work up his courage before he could open the door, and he did so tentatively, peering within.

The Moru who stared back at him looked healthy, for the most part. Their faces were warier than usual, and he bit his tongue when he thought of why; even at his age, he had not been able to escape some of the more lurid stories that circulated concerning Captain Sut'khut's reputation with Moru. He stood silently and looked them all over; as soon as he noticed two curled up in the corner, one lying upon the floor and the other seated by her, he forgot his original purpose here, and his ears flicked when he heard the first one whimper. He walked straight toward them and bent over. The female on the floor was older, her eyes squinched shut and her arms wrapped around her belly; the one seated beside her was younger, perhaps around his age, and she stared up at him with dark challenging eyes.

"Kha'kaat," Meteri said aloud, and glanced at the younger Moru. She furrowed her brow slightly and nodded. The lieutenant stooped down beside the whimpering female and gingerly touched her shoulder, then looked at the young Moru again.

"Kana?" he asked.

She shrugged. "Can speak."

"What has happened to her?"

The younger Moru got a dark look. "You Kana, to know! Kana to not speak to each other anymore--?"

Meteri's nostrils flared. "Please, just tell me what happened to her. I only just came back here."

Her own nostrils flared but she obliged him. "To be ready to have pup. Bastard captain to keep taking her away for himself. Bring her back, always crying. Take her to see Nahus-Master, bring her back, all wet--having pup--sticking himself in her even while pup is coming!" Meteri grimaced but she merely lifted her nose. "Djefet to try to help pup come...but does not want to come...comes out..." she trailed off for a moment, her eyes going glassy, then she blinked them and took in a breath, her glare returning "...comes out dead. Kha'kaat-Moru lose pup. This 'what happened to her.'"

"Sut'khut," Meteri said, his look now just as dark as hers was.

She pointed to the other side of the room; he glanced aside to see two other Moru huddled against the wall, a young female with her belly swollen with child, and a male sitting beside her, their eyes wide. "Go for her next," the young female said. "Very same night! Offers her to strange Moru-Kana in his quarters!" She spat on the floor.

Meteri's ears pricked. "Moru-Kana--?" The story Khanef had told of the strange tattered-winged Moru shot back into his mind.

Djefet nodded sharply. "To tell Djefet of it after. Big dumb stupid brute! Calls himself Kana! Speaks of Great Red Tribe, and dead general, and new general; asks to attack tribe because of his wings--"

"Wings--?" Meteri's brow furrowed, utterly confused. "Great Red Tribe--? Slow down! How am I to understand any of this--?"

She wrinkled her muzzle at him. "Not to come here to hold conversations anyway! Do not know details--only what she to tell!" She pointed again at the pregnant female. "Say something about Great Red Tribe--to south! General Ma-something." She shrugged. "Do not care. Kana-Moru to say they ruin his wings, so comes to River Tribe, asks bastard captain for help. Bastard captain agrees, offers her as prize." She spat on the floor again.

Meteri sat silently, digesting all that he'd just been told. And so...Sut'khut had been the one to come up with the idea to attack a tribe to the south...yet he had had assistance from someone...? The very Moru Khanef had mentioned? It fit with Khanef's story, at least...except, he had mentioned the East Tribe...since when were their enemies called the Great Red Tribe...? She had mentioned a new general...had there been some sort of coup...?

It would explain this...why they were so much stronger this time...how they could kill off so many of us! But why would some Moru come running from them seeking revenge? A Moru with tattered wings and a grudge...

A Kana...?

"Ass to return after Kha'kaat lose pup," the female continued, drawing his attention again. Her lip curled back. "Takes her AGAIN even then! If bastard to come back--" and here she paused just long enough to bare her teeth, every one of them glinting in the dim light "--then will bite his cock off myself!"

Meteri's face went gray. He regathered himself and lifted his head to meet her eyes, so the two of them stared at each other as if silently challenging one another.

"He is dead," he stated, and she blinked. "So he will not be coming back."

The Moru's eyes widened. Then her nostrils flared, and she let out a dainty snort. She wrinkled her muzzle as if smelling something offensive.

"Too bad," she said in a voice full of acid.

Kha'kaat whimpered more loudly, and the two of them looked back down at her; Djefet frowned and leaned over the stricken female, touching her arm and murmuring something in Moru. "What is wrong with her--?" Meteri asked; the younger female gave him a dirty look. He shrugged helplessly. "I do not know much about childbirth! Does she need the physician--?"

"Physician to see to her. Not able to do much. Does not know enough." She gave him a dark look. "Bastard captain to do more than stick himself in her. Hurt her inside. Lose pup, probably have no more."

"I had heard this, but why is she still like this--?"

Djefet shrugged. "Kana to tell me. Djefet never have pups. Just to be always in pain."

Meteri knelt even closer and looked into Kha'kaat's face. "Was Sut'khut away when she gave birth...?" he murmured.

Djefet snorted lightly. "Fortunately." She seemed to lose some of her arrogance, and lowered her head somewhat, ears flaring. "Probably to have beaten life out of her, if here at time."

She paused when she saw Meteri lightly stroking Kha'kaat's neck. After a few moments the pinched look on the female's face faded and her muscles relaxed somewhat, her quick irregular breathing slowing and becoming more regular. The two of them looked at her as she apparently lapsed into sleep, still letting out a soft whimper now and then. Djefet lifted her head and furrowed her brow at him, but he said nothing.

Meteri sighed and pulled his hand away. "It is probably for the best anyway," he muttered, "considering that Nahus will likely be gone before long." Djefet frowned at him but he still ignored her look, rubbing his hand as if it hurt. "Maybe the physician can give her some poppy or something..."

"Dumb Kana," Djefet said; when he gaped at her she just snorted. "Poppy to take away every problem? All right...dumb Kana."

Meteri's ear twitched. "You have a mouth on you, have you realized?"

In response she merely grinned and showed off her teeth again. "Bastard captain to realize!"

The lieutenant stared at her in open disbelief...then the sullenness in his eyes faded, and her grin faded as well on seeing it, being replaced by puzzlement. She looked younger and prettier when she was not sneering, and he again realized that she must be around his own age. He glanced down at Kha'kaat, then back up at her. "I think she will sleep for now," he said. "In the morning, I can convince Nerre'mua to give her some poppy. It does not fix everything, but at least it will help."

Djefet looked skeptical, but didn't argue. Meteri carefully pushed himself up so he leaned on his knees, and crooked his elbow at her. "I came seeking a Moru," he stated, earning a look. "Would you come and pass the night with me?"

She blinked, then her eyes grew absolutely round. He almost would have laughed, had not a horrible flush arisen in her face; "How to know Djefet even wants to go with you--?" she blurted out, defensively; Meteri's amusement only grew, and she scowled.

"All right then," he corrected himself, "would you like to come and pass the night with me--?"

Her scowl grew even darker, but he could tell she was more flustered than anything; she drew in on herself, her ears bright pink. "Do not know," she snapped. "Might want to use my teeth."

"I ask you not to use your teeth, though you are welcome to use your mouth," he said in response, at which her eyes goggled and he again had to keep himself from laughing; he quickly ducked aside when she shot to her feet, fists clenched, and glared down at him.

"Nasty!" she gasped; when he cocked his ear at her she turned and stormed for the door. He stood up and looked after her; her tail whipped back and forth as she walked, but she glanced at him over her shoulder along the way, and he saw the blush in her cheeks. His mouth twitched, but rather than laugh or speak he simply followed her, and the two of them left the Moru quarters together.

* * * * *

The young Kana was strange, Djefet decided. She peered at him from the corner of her eye as they walked up the hallway together. For one thing, that was the most conversation she had ever held with a Kana visitor to the Moru quarters; no one had ever bothered questioning her about anything other than sexual favors. For another thing, she was walking right beside him, not behind him, and he didn't even appear to notice. Instead he stared at the floor as he walked, chewing on one claw.

She watched him for a while. "Bad habit," she finally said; he glanced at her with a puzzled frown, and she stared at his claws. "Bad habit," she said again, as if he were deaf.

Meteri looked at his claws. "Better than some other habits," he murmured, but stopped anyway. He stared ahead now.

Djefet fiddled with the strap of her dress. "Sen'akha?" she queried; he gave her an open-jawed gape and she shrugged.

"Why do you even ask that?" he exclaimed. "Would I even have brought you out if that was so--?"

She shrugged again. "To barely even look at Djefet since then. More interested in chewing on claw than nesakh'ai. Just asking."

His muzzle wrinkled. "I am starting to feel you are lousy company!" He turned away again and she had to suppress a smirk at the peeved look on his face. "I did not even call you out for nesakh'ai!"

She blinked this time, then her brow furrowed. "Sen'akha--?" she said again; he scowled and she put her hand to her mouth to try to keep from laughing.

"You said Sut'khut was interested in Kha'kaat," he said, making her halt her giggling. She looked at him for a moment, then yawned. He gave her another peeved look. "Well--?"

"Yes, bastard captain to like Kha'kaat. To like practically every pretty Moru. Come by Moru quarters almost every day, panting like dog in heat."

"How long has...had he been doing this?"

"Months. From when Kha'kaat first get big. Came in stinking drunk, took her away. Bring her back, crying."

"He has done this to anyone else?"

She looked at him as if he were stupid. "Of course."

"Ikhi'et?"

Djefet paused. He looked at her so hard that she felt like shrinking in on herself. "Ikhi'et?" he demanded, and she shook her head.

"No, not Ikhi'et!" she snapped. "Try to, but..." She trailed off. "Ikhi'et-Moru to say he never touch. Kept asking to, but didn't."

"He asked--?" Meteri fell silent as she stared at him, and again his claw crept up to his teeth. Her ear twitched but she said nothing. The young Kana flared his nostrils.

"The one halfway decent thing he's ever done in his life..." He lifted his head and gave her another look that made her uncomfortable. "What about you?" he asked; when she just stared back he frowned a little. "Did he ever..."

She showed her teeth. "Remember?"

His face screwed up. "I had thought you meant that figuratively!" She clacked her teeth, and he burst into laughter, startling her. "I do remember!" he exclaimed. "Now I do! That must be what he was speaking about with Fe'kheru that one time...he was in a pissy mood...he did not walk properly the rest of that day! You did that?" She beamed and he started laughing anew. "I wish Kha'kaat would have done that!"

Djefet's smile faded, and his laughter did as well. They both walked in silence now, casting awkward looks at the floor. "No more pups," he murmured after a while, and she peered at him. "Nahus is practically dead on his feet. He has barely led us in months now. Even if Sut'khut had been anywhere near qualified to be general, he is dead now too." He gnawed on his claw. "As soon as Nahus goes...those who remain may turn upon each other. I know who we may trust, but with the state of things, anyone might try for it. Even a piddling private." He lifted his head somewhat, and Djefet was surprised to see the anxiety on his face. "We can hardly afford to lose yet more of our men. I do not see why he will not even discuss it! It's the rational thing to do."

"General--?" Djefet inquired; when he looked at her she cocked her head. "Seeking new general?" He just stared at her. "If one Kana to refuse, why not just take job--? Be general, prevent coup--"

Meteri rolled his eyes. "Remind me never to seek advice from a Moru again!" he said, and she scowled. "Forgive me, but I hardly think you understand such matters. Tending to the females, yes, but Kana politics--? Moru do not know such things."

Djefet wrinkled her muzzle. "Prick," she muttered.

He got a sour look. "Do you want me to take you back, or not?"

She stuck out her tongue. "Take me along! Show you my beautiful teeth!"

He rolled his eyes. "I think you are rather too obsessed with your teeth!"

They reached his quarters and slowed, the lieutenant turning to open the door. She stuck her tongue out again as she entered and he gave her a dark look, following. "You to hardly know Kana stuff, either," she said, looking around his quarters. They were rather sparsely furnished, for a Kana's rooms.

Meteri bristled. "As if you would know this!"

Djefet plopped down upon the bed and tilted her head back. "Boy lieutenant! To have heard of Meteri-Kana. Youngest in tribe to reach lieutenant elite!" He blinked in seeming surprise at her knowledge, and she smirked inwardly at this. "Pampered little pup of Lord Yekh'ef," she teased, and his eyes immediately went black. "Pride and joy of the house of Pedana-Kana--"

He was bristling again before she even noticed, and he paced across the room so quickly that she gasped once he was right in front of her, his teeth bared and his wings flaring. "Stop it!" he hissed, his voice so venomous that she flinched. She immediately fell silent, staring at him with wide eyes; he whirled away and she blinked when she saw how hard his claws were digging into his palms. Her brow furrowed in confusion, then she dredged her memory and remembered that he had been away from the tribe for a long while. She thought over the snippets of gossip she had heard in the Moru quarters after the bastard captain had departed, and pieced this together with what Meteri himself had said earlier. Her confusion began to fade and she felt a twinge of shame.

He stood with his back to her some distance away for a few moments as she tried to figure out what to say. After a while he turned and came back, still angry looking, and she was surprised when he sat down on the bed beside her, a space between them. He didn't look at her or attempt to move closer, simply sat where he was with his fists clenched and his face as dark as a storm. Djefet picked at the edge of her dress.

"To not mean it," she murmured meekly.

Meteri's tail flicked. "Of course you mean it," he muttered. "Why else would you have said it."

Djefet pushed herself up. "To not mean it!" she insisted. "To only joke!"

He didn't seem to be listening anymore. He took one lappet in his hand and looked at it.

"What did I do to earn these?" he asked sullenly. "Fought hard, sparred well, won competitions, passed tests. Impressed the captains. Got honors from the general." He scowled and let the lappet fall. "It's only a piece of blue cloth, yet you would think it actually means something, with how people treat me because of it."

Djefet gawked. "Is--is lappet!" she exclaimed in open disbelief. "To mean MUCH!"

He gave her a cross look. "Truthfully--? I think you probably would know about as much on this matter. We put little bits of colored cloth on each other's heads and act as if it means something!" He stood up and flared his wings. "A Kana with purple lappets, and everyone treats him almost as a god! No matter how decrepit and weak he is! Meanwhile, there is another Kana with lappets of red who is brave and capable and he is only an inferior. Yet another Kana with lappets of red is treated with the utmost respect even while he ravages other Kana's females and destroys their pups. Somewhere, there is a Kana with lappets of black who struggles as hard as he can to earn his place, and he is probably being spat upon and kicked at and told to just give up." His wings lowered and his head did as well. "And meanwhile, there is a Kana in lappets of blue who has had every single honor bestowed upon him, and what good does he do--? He walks about a dead city, and takes down names, and talks all night with strange Moru, and does not a single thing of any use to his tribe. Hesi deserved his blue lappets. He died for us. Rura should have deserved blue lappets. He gave his life as well." He lifted his lappet again. "What did I ever do...?"

Djefet said nothing. The lieutenant's speech had utterly confused her, and she now sat staring at him with wide eyes and open mouth, unable to fully comprehend what he was talking about. After a while he turned around with a heavy sigh, coming back toward the bed yet not meeting her eyes.

"They all earned their lappets," he murmured, and sat down heavily as he had before. "While I have done nothing but spar with trainees, and stand for inspection, and let the general and the captains place honors around my neck." His head lowered even more, and Djefet blinked when she saw what seemed to be guilt in his eyes. "Somehow, compared to what Hesi and Rura did...this seems remarkably...insignificant."

All the Moru could do was stare at him in silence, unsure of what to say or how to react. After a long while he sighed and rose to his feet again, reaching up to remove his pectoral necklace as he walked away. He stood at the table for a moment before turning and coming back, sitting down next to her once more. She'd never seen a Kana look so pensive or troubled before.

She reached out and gingerly tapped his arm. He lifted his head to look at her and she tilted her own head, brow furrowing.

"What to come here to do...?" she asked quietly. "If not nesakh'ai...?"

He blinked, then flushed. "Oh!" He made a face. "I am sorry...of course a Moru would not wish to chatter about such things..."

Djefet's mouth twitched. "Djefet chatter all day. Does not matter about what."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "Why is it I feel this is no lie?" He shook his head. "I have better things to do than discuss politics with a Moru."

Djefet shrugged. "What, then? Nesakh'ai after all?"

"I do not wish to have nesakh'ai with you." She must have gotten a very strange look on her face, for he immediately waved his hand. "There is nothing wrong with you...I merely..."

"Hakh'tua, then?" Djefet asked. "Ahi'akhta--?"

His nostrils flared a little bit as he seemed to decide what he wanted. She was a bit surprised that he hadn't been prepared; the big captain, whenever he'd come, had always seemed to know exactly what he was looking for. He finally sighed again and fiddled with his lappet.

"Hakh'tua. Please."

Djefet flushed a little bit, though she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the manner in which he requested it; what Kana ever said please? Nevertheless, she didn't question it, and instead crept toward him, moving to the floor as he loosened his kilt and loincloth. His eyes seemed preoccupied, so she knew that she might have a bit of work ahead of her. Now that she thought of it, his behavior indicated that he seemed to be more intent upon a distraction than upon pleasure.

She knelt down before him and he pulled up his kilt and spread his legs. Djefet liked to think that she was passing good at hakh'tua, if the expressions upon the faces of her mates as she serviced them had been any indication. She reached beneath the bunched-up fabric to caress his sheath, and was surprised to find it smooth and soft, warm to the touch. Meteri sighed and his eyes fluttered shut as she touched him. He was not ready yet, so she bent forward and gently licked at his sac, hearing his breath increase. She did this until she could feel him hardening, his sheath swelling, then pulled back when the head began to emerge. She rubbed it with her fingertips, coaxing it out. Meteri let out another shuddery breath and lay back upon his bed. Djefet cupped him and bowed down, taking him in her mouth. His chest hitched but he said nothing, just spread his legs further, and allowed her to proceed as she wished.

He wasn't so brutish, for a Kana, so she decided to treat him as well as she could. She swirled her tongue around him and suckled, occasionally pulling away to nibble ever so lightly at the tip, each time earning a soft gasp and a slight arch from the Kana. His hands instinctively crept down to press against his groin, splaying himself wide; he panted softly, and Djefet hoped that he found her services acceptable, and distracting enough from what was bothering him. She trailed her tongue down his shaft to the root, then nuzzled over the smooth soft fur there, then eased her muzzle beneath that, to lick at the fleshy bridge between his legs. He stiffened and murmured but didn't protest; she could tell that the sensation was a new one for him. After a moment of that, she returned to slowly sucking upon him, caressing his thighs to heighten his pleasure. It wasn't long before his hands slid up to lightly grasp her head and guide her, his fingers trailing through her fur as his hips started to slowly push up and down. He began to moan.

Well, it looked as if she had managed to accomplish her purpose. She concentrated now on maintaining his pleasure; her ministrations had been known to keep Kana writhing in lust for hours. It was only because they preferred keeping their find to themselves that not more of them knew about her, or fought over her. With the tribe now apparently decimated, it was of little concern anymore.

His grip to her head was light, gentle; likewise his slow thrusts into her mouth, not even thrusts, but more like gentle urgings. His eyes stayed shut and he arched his neck, pressing his head back into the bed; she could just barely see him over the arch of his hips, his mouth open and breath gasping. He whimpered softly. She was surprised by his reaction, yet strangely aroused as well. His claws just barely scored against her face, reminding her of his potential strength, yet this only made her shiver deliciously. His nostrils flared and his thighs bunched with a soft grunt; she gripped his hips and steeled herself to accept his fluid, only to have him pull her away from himself, his seed splashing against her breast. If she hadn't expectantly pressed herself to him first, she knew it would have missed her entirely, instead shooting over her shoulder. She flushed, the heat rising in her skin, and slowly wiped it away.

Meteri let out his breath and sank back into the bed, panting softly. He didn't notice the wetness upon her, nor did she mind; she wondered, instead, why he had not simply come in her mouth as she'd expected him to. Such a strange Kana. She sat back upon her heels to await his next command, patiently, as he made no immediate move to rise. He lay where he was with one arm draped across his eyes, catching his breath.

Djefet waited for a while before wriggling her foot a bit. It was starting to ache from staying in this position. She frowned a little when he refused to move, then decided to simply speak, seeing as he hadn't even hit her for her impudence so far. Perhaps he hadn't learned how to treat Moru yet.

"Lord?" she inquired, in a respectful enough voice. He lifted his arm and tilted his head to the side to peer at her. "To return to quarters? Or nesakh'ai now?"

He blinked, and appeared to think for a moment, then shook his head. "No." He pulled himself up and back, onto the bed, and touched his hand to the mattress beside him. "Here."

Djefet blinked herself. She frowned a little.

"Nesakh'ai--?"

"No." His ear twitched in seeming irritation. "Just sleep here, will you? If this does not bother you?"

Her eyebrows rose, but she didn't protest further. A warm bed, even beside a Kana, was certainly better than a hard floor covered in straw. She climbed into the bed and, after casting him an odd look, settled herself down beside him with a small sigh and shut her eyes. There was silence for a moment, and she was beginning to expect sleep--as he hadn't requested nesakh'ai--only to gasp and squeak when she felt his hand creep through the slit in her dress, rubbing against her thigh. She considered turning around and hitting him in the face, then bit down this thought and let him touch her. Well, of course she couldn't expect to end the evening completely unscathed, could she? Even young inexperienced Kana had their needs.

He didn't make any move to pull off her dress, nor even to bring himself over and down onto her. He just closed his eyes as if going to sleep, yet his fingers still worked beneath her dress. Djefet sucked in a breath of surprise when they prodded lightly between her legs, and almost instinctively she parted them, rather hoping that he would do what it seemed he was interested in doing. She had no idea why he was interested, but it would be a welcome change of pace from what she was used to.

He did just as she'd hoped, and Djefet sighed and melted into the bed when the young Kana's fingers slipped inside her, past her now moist lips, sliding in and out in slow rhythm. All of her muscles relaxed but for a slight tense trembling of her buttocks, which she couldn't control. With all the servicing she'd been doing for so long, she'd almost forgotten how it felt to be serviced for once. Her breathing grew rapid and she whimpered weakly as his hand moved in and out more quickly. She parted her legs further so her dress rode up, her knees almost at her sides, bottom half bared. Meteri finally opened his eyes and turned his head to the side to look at her, and she could see the intrigued look on his face. She took hold of his arm and urged him deeper, whining with need. He complied, then even rolled over onto his stomach and mouthed at her breast through the tight fabric of her dress. Djefet whined more loudly and wished she were unclothed. From the way his tail swished from side to side, his wings flaring, she could tell that he wished the same thing. Gods, they were going about this in completely the wrong way.

She let go of his arm and did her best to shirk her shoulderstraps down to bare her chest. Meteri complied with her unspoken request as well, his tongue traveling over her hardened nipples, passing from one to the other so she cried out. She pumped her hips up and down until she felt a barrier bursting within her, her spine stiffening in climax. She felt her fluids leak out over his fingers, and whimpered faintly, sinking. She noticed his own tail stand out straight, and his hips quiver against the sheets as if an invisible lover lay beneath him, and knew that her release had spurred his own. He sighed a final time and laid his head down to rest against the pillows, his hand upon her thigh. They didn't speak to each other, simply lay breathing quietly, each of them thinking of something else.

Djefet cast one small glance at him, almost furtively. He was still awake, though barely. He yawned and rubbed at his eyes and finally pulled his wet hand back to him, rolling over onto his back. His loins were wet and glistening, and she had the sudden urge to lean down and lick them clean, yet refrained. She'd already been very forward with him, and had been treated much better than was expected. If he wanted her to do anything else for him, he would say so.

And so she sighed instead, and snuggled herself deep into the pillows, acquainting herself with the scent of his musk. She wanted to recognize his scent should he ever enter the Moru quarters again. If she ever had to be stuck with a new master, she hoped that at least he would be as tolerable as this one.

* * * * *

He awoke before the sun had properly arisen, blinking his eyes open to try to figure out where he was. He glanced to the side to see the strange Moru still slumbering in his bed and had to stare at her for a moment or two before remembering what had even happened. He slowly pushed himself up and brushed down his kilt, made a face, then got out of the bed and pushed aside the drapes. He stared out at the courtyard as he washed himself off at the waterbowl and dug out a fresh kilt and loincloth, wrapping them around himself. He shivered at the chill still in the air, but at least his head was clearer than it had been before.

He decided to change the rest of his clothing, as he had not even put on new armor since returning from the desert, and his old armor was rather tattered and dusty by now. His muzzle wrinkled thinking of how he must have smelled to the Moru, and he glanced at her again when he realized he hadn't even asked her name. She had said her own name, but he had never asked it. For some reason this bothered him a little.

He decided to simply leave her, rather than wake her up and have her taken back to the Moru quarters, though he did leave a plate of figs and bread in case she should wake up hungry, taking one himself and chewing on it on his way down the hall. He slowed down near Captain Fe'kheru's quarters, ear cocking; despite the earliness of the day, he heard him and Ikhi'et again enjoying themselves, and decided to continue on his way; he would come out when he was good and ready. He finished off the fig and took in a breath of cool morning air wafting in from the courtyard. Only then did he think of the sorrowful duties he had spent all of the past night tending to, and his spirits, already starting to rise, began to sink again; he looked at all of the empty rooms around him and his wings sank as well.

It was starting to feel almost like some bad dream...they will truly never be back here again...

He flinched, and his eyes stung, his throat hurting, when he thought of Rura and Hesi and Yekh'ef. Even Sut'khut had been decent toward him, for the most part, despite his horrid activities with the Moru. Meteri lifted his claw to his mouth and started to nibble on it.

"'Teri-Kana! You are awake good and early!"

The lieutenant's head jerked up. He forced his gloominess away when he saw Captain Khanef approaching, a bright smile on his face. Meteri wondered how he could feel so cheery, but didn't question it; he smiled in return and saluted, earning a nod. Their steps slowed and Khanef turned so they walked beside each other.

"I had hoped to talk with Fe'kheru this morning," Khanef stated as they went. "Last night was not the best time to speak over such things...but I had hoped that today he would be in a better mood. You, as well."

"I had this same thought in mind," Meteri murmured.

"I took the liberty of heading out early and speaking with what captains are still here in the tribe," Khanef went on. He paused. "There are not many of them...there is only one other captain elite, and he is older than Fe'kheru is. He makes no excuses about his wings; in fact he even says he is just waiting for them to come along and dump him in the Moru quarters, if they would only get the time."

Meteri smiled faintly. "He has more guts than many Kana."

"In any event, I asked them to come as soon as the sun is arisen, so that we may take breakfast in the courtyard and discuss what is to happen next with the River Tribe. They are as anxious as we are to find out what we will do. You think Fe'kheru will be in the right frame of mind to speak to them then?"

Meteri lifted a shoulder. "He is likely to be in the right frame of mind, though I do not wish to be the one to call him away from Ikhi'et. She is likely to tear that luckless person's ears off if they try."

Khanef laughed. "So she is still busy jumping his bones, is she? I rather wondered how she would greet him. Perhaps if we are lucky he will convince her to give him a small rest, just for a little while. Poor thing."

"She has been alone for quite a while," Meteri agreed.

Khanef laughed again. "Actually, I was speaking of poor Fe'kheru! He will probably not even be able to walk when he comes out!"

They reached the main courtyard and stepped out among the palms and flowers, sandals clacking against the pristine tiles. Despite their current state, the River Tribe had once been rich and mighty, and the old general's household still reflected this fact. The pool was ringed with lotuses and tall ornate trees lined the walks, smaller shrubbery surrounding the walls and large blooms perfuming the air. Khanef stretched his wings while Meteri sat down beside the pool to stare into the water. The sun slowly arose, burning away the chill in the tiles, and after some time a small number of Kana began to filter into the court, rubbing sleep from their eyes and flexing their own wings. Khanef went to go greet them, as Meteri did not, and they talked quietly with each other. After a few moments Khanef stepped over to Meteri and tapped his shoulder.

"I'm going back to the kitchens to fetch us some bread and beer. If Fe'kheru isn't out by the time I come back, I'll drag him out by the tail."

Meteri nodded, lost in his thoughts. Khanef walked away and he was left beside the pool while the other Kana continued murmuring, sitting down further away from him. He preferred the privacy, though he did wonder why he was to be included in this meeting. He wasn't a captain.

It wasn't too long before Khanef returned with a plate of bread and a jar of beer, Fe'kheru following. The other captains rose to their feet and saluted him and he nodded in return before gesturing at them to seat themselves again; Meteri turned himself around so he faced them as they settled in a small semicircle upon the tiles, though he kept his place near the pool, twirling a lily between his fingers. There were several moments of general greetings and gossiping while the rest of them took a drink of the beer and a bite of the bread, then they began to fall quiet, shuffling their wings and waiting for Fe'kheru to speak.

"You are doubtless aware of the intent of this meeting," Fe'kheru said quietly, and they nodded. "It is our intent to discuss the future of the River Tribe before such a time as discussion will be out of the question. We are in a precarious state as it is, and much further delay could result in our extinction."

"Lord Fe'kheru," one of the Kana, an older one with graying fur, said. "I feel we must apologize for not attempting harder to detain Lord Sut'khut from his plans. As it was, we did very little whatsoever; perhaps we even thought his actions best for the tribe. We only now know better; if we had only known sooner..."

Fe'kheru waved his hand. "There is no need for such feelings. If my men and I had been present, perhaps even we would have been persuaded that action was the best thing." He waited for them to settle themselves again. "As you are aware, my men and I, and those few who remained within the city, are all that remain of the River Tribe. Fully two thirds of our number have been annihilated by the East Tribe, to the south. There were no survivors of this attack. Therefore, we have no accurate estimates of the strength of this tribe, nor of their skills or the state of their army."

"I obtained some little bit of information in the Moru quarters," Meteri offered. The captains all turned their heads to look at him, frowning slightly. "It is third-hand knowledge," he admitted. "From a Moru who heard from another Moru, who overheard some of the speech that went on in Lord Sut'khut's private quarters. But I have no reason to doubt this Moru's word."

Fe'kheru paused, then nodded. "What knowledge is this?"

"Mainly that there appears to have been some sort of coup to the south. The East Tribe is no longer known as the East Tribe but as the Great Red Tribe. They have a new general, though I do not know his name. I have been thinking, and perhaps they banded with another tribe or some such, if they were able to wipe us out so easily when numbers were once on our side."

The old Kana nodded thoughtfully. "Now that you mention it...I have heard rumors, from the scouts, that something happened down south...it was quite a while back from the sound of it...I only remember the name 'Mahakhi' being mentioned. I do not know much else."

"Mahakhi?" Fe'kheru frowned. "This is the name of one of General T'uris's top captains. He is the one then who assumed command--?"

"I would have to assume so, if T'uris is no longer the general."

"The Moru remembered the name 'Ma,'" Meteri said. "From what I've heard of him, Lord Mahakhi would make an adequate general."

"We will have to assume then that he is their leader, and that they have banded together with another tribe," Fe'kheru stated. "This then presents an even greater problem for us. Which is why I wished to discuss these matters with you lords, before deciding upon a course of action." He turned to look at the rest of the Kana. "I ask if you all truly wish us to take up arms against the Great Red Tribe, in revenge for our men who were slain under Sut'khut's command."

The captains' eyes widened. "You must ask us this--?" one of them blurted out. "You think we would hesitate to seek revenge for such brutality--?"

"I do not," Fe'kheru said quietly. "Yet I should tell you now, that if we were to set out to face the Great Red Tribe as we are, upon the morrow, we would not succeed. Each and every one of us would be slain, just as were Sut'khut's men." This silenced the captains. "I state that there are not nearly enough of us to hope to even remotely succeed in this endeavor, especially not if the Great Red Tribe has in fact lately gained in numbers. Should we settle upon this course of action as we are, then the River Tribe will have sealed its fate forever."

There was an uneasy silence as the captains thought this over. "What then do you suggest we do?" Khanef asked softly.

Fe'kheru looked at each of them in turn. "Some of us will of course need to remain with the tribe once again, while some of us set out south," he stated. "This would further deplete our numbers in battle. The only means by which we can hope to face the Great Red Tribe upon equal terms is if we do the same thing that they have apparently done--seek the assistance of another tribe of like disposition, and head for the Great Red Tribe beneath the same standard."

The captains furrowed their brows. "There are not many tribes upon such good terms with us, Brother," one of them murmured. "Especially not now that we are so weak."

"From what the scouts have said, most tribes are either avoiding the Great Red Tribe's wrath completely, by refusing to take part in any battle, or else are hoping to win their favor," the old Kana added. "This does not bode well for us seeking an ally."

"If we have no allies," Fe'kheru said, "we then seek out the next best thing. A tribe which has every reason to despise the Great Red Tribe as much as we do." He looked at them again. "I know of one such tribe, to the east. They are but four days' travel away."

Everyone looked at him, ears pricked curiously. "The Yellow Sands Tribe...?" the old Kana at last said, brow furrowing. When Fe'kheru nodded his frown grew. "They are no allies of ours. We have even clashed swords with them in the past, ourselves."

"There has been no peace agreement between Nahus and their general," Khanef said. "Ever since their own coup we have been upon even worse terms! We cannot even set foot within sight of their city without being set upon!"

"Their general has made it no secret that we are not friends," Meteri added. "He practically threatened us with war if we should ever meet each other again."

"They are not our ally," Fe'kheru agreed. "Yet in such an instance as this, I believe they would be smart enough to see the wisdom in allying themselves with us but temporarily. They too have a hatred of the former East Tribe. Remember that they themselves were attacked by T'uris's men, and killed in no small numbers. It is likely this incident that prompted their coup in the first place. I am willing to bet they are as weary of dealing with the Great Red Tribe, and are as burning for revenge, as we are. In such a case, the lesser of two enemies can appear as a useful ally in a battle."

"You think they would seriously agree to such a thing?" one of the captains asked skeptically. "It is one thing to be sorely beaten; it is quite another to band with your enemy to redress such an affront. If I were them I would be more humiliated to team with my former enemy!"

"You are not them," Fe'kheru said, and they fell silent. "And I know, from the feeling in my own heart, that they would be willing to assist us in this matter, so long as they themselves are allowed an equal chance at revenge. I do not ask that we become friends, or even permanent allies. All I ask is that we send an offer of peaceful discussion, so that they might decide whether they should wish to face the Great Red Tribe under the flag of the River Tribe, or forfeit their chance at revenge." He paused. "I do not think their general would be so leery of us as to give such a thing up. Their numbers are not great enough to defeat the Great Red Tribe, either. Yet with our own handful, they might stand a chance of doing so. It is a much greater chance than that which we already have, at least."

Silence fell again, and they sat and mulled over this idea. The captains peered at each other uncertainly, though Meteri could tell they had no better plans to try. They leaned toward each other and started whispering, Fe'kheru, Khanef, and Meteri sitting and waiting; after a moment or so they broke apart and turned back to the lead captain. The old one lifted his head and flared his nostrils.

"If we are to follow through with such a plan," he said gravely, "then what precisely do we do, and who do we send? What will we ask of them, and who will be the messenger to take them this request?"

"I will go," Meteri shot out, and they all glanced at him in surprise. "Send me," he demanded. "I can carry the message there in under four days, if I fly fast. You all know I can do it better than anyone else in the tribe can."

Fe'kheru frowned. "No, Meteri-Kana," he said, and Meteri blinked in surprise. The captain shook his head. "You are needed here," he said. "We have lost far too many of our best to send you out on such a mission."

Meteri's brow furrowed. He got to his feet and clenched his fists, flaring his wings. "But--Lord--!"

"Be seated, Lieutenant," Fe'kheru ordered, his eyes darkening. Meteri deflated, mouth opening to protest, though he bit his tongue and obeyed. He sat down hard on the tiles and stared sullenly at the ground, tail flicking and anger burning in his breast. Fe'kheru, once he saw that he wasn't going to protest any further, took a breath and continued.

"We will select a volunteer messenger from among the trainees. As much as it pains me to say it, they are expendable. I do not believe the Yellow Sands Tribe will kill a simple messenger but it is better that an unskilled trainee be taken than one of our best."

Khanef peered at Meteri, but Meteri didn't bother lifting his head.

"We should still take precautions that he is as safe as possible," the old Kana suggested. "And so what ideas do you have?"

"We will send him with a white cloth," Fe'kheru said. "This is the most basic thing I can think of. They will not necessarily obey the rules of truce but we may as well try. We will ask them, with as much courtesy and respect as possible, if they will not send some delegates to meet with us upon our own terms. We shall explain the state of our army to them, so that they will know they have little reason to fear a trap."

Meteri bristled. "They will have every advantage over us then!" he protested. "Who is to say they will not simply attack us themselves--?"

Fe'kheru looked at him. "It is a risk we must take." He paused. "I am rather hoping that our plea for their assistance will be enough to convince them of our sincerity. All know of the River Tribe's pride. Should we swallow it for a moment, I believe they will understand that circumstances have changed."

"How do we ensure that they do not attack us?" one of the captains asked. "Because, truthfully, Brother, this is a foolish plan."

Fe'kheru shrugged slightly and sighed. "I can offer no guarantee. All we can do is set more sentries atop the east wall to keep watch for any movement. Should any more Kana than a handful arrive, we will know our offer was not accepted."

"And what if their entire army approaches--?"

The captain shrugged again. "We would be much worse off if we did not try?"

There was a pause, then the old Kana sighed. "He is right," he murmured. "All we have left now is risk. If we do not try to put our faith in our former enemy, we may as well be dead anyway." He raised his head and nodded. "Very well. The message shall be sent."

"I will speak with my scribe and have it penned before tomorrow," Fe'kheru said.

Khanef pushed himself to his feet. "I suppose I will then speak with the trainees and see who is up for the task."

"Keep in mind to compliment their new general," the old Kana said. "We have not had a kind word to say to him since the coup; perhaps some flattery would help win him over."

"From what little I know of him, he is younger even than any of us, save Khanef and Meteri," Fe'kheru replied. "I do not think he would be stupid enough to fall for flattery, though perhaps humbling ourselves might help smooth things along somewhat." He got to his own feet, rubbing at his arm. "Very well. I will ask the scribe to plead for a small number of their men to visit with us, to speak over plans for fullscale attack. If we are fortunate, at least perhaps we will not have to worry about the Great Red Tribe picking off every last one of us where we stand."

The other captains nodded and turned to walk away out of the courtyard. They didn't talk with each other much, though Meteri could tell there was much thinking going on. He sat and watched them go, then gasped a little when a shadow fell over him. Fe'kheru held out his hand.

"You are coming, Meteri-Kana?" he asked softly.

"You are only favoring me," Meteri said, his voice as hard as flint. "This is not proper, nor is it rational. I am the best one for this task, and you know it, Lord. You would sacrifice one of the trainees for this?"

Fe'kheru's eyes softened. "You are right," he said, at which the younger Kana blinked. "I am favoring you. Though this is only because, at the moment, you and Ikhi'et are all I have left." When Meteri just stared at him in numb surprise he gestured with his open hand. "You are coming...?"

The lieutenant paused, then reluctantly reached up and took the captain's hand. Fe'kheru helped pull him to his feet, and they turned to set foot out of the otherwise empty courtyard.

* * * * *

And so it was that the next morning, a messenger, in the black lappets of a sergeant, flew away from the River Tribe, headed east across the river and the sands. He flew as quickly as he could, and in just under four days reached the great walled tribe which had warred with them in the not-too-distant past. While it was still merely a small square within his sight, he heard a whirring noise, and managed to flap his wings just in time to avoid being struck in the membrane; nevertheless, the throw-stick clipped him on the chin, and he yelped and plummeted from the sky, just barely avoiding crashing to his death, instead making a hard landing upon the desert floor. He lifted his head dizzily and within seconds was surrounded by scouts, a half dozen spear points aimed straight at his neck and breast. His eyes grew large and wet, and all he could do was hold out his hands in surrender.

His person was frisked, and the white flag he carried, as well as the scroll he had brought, were confiscated, and he was summarily marched toward the still-distant city, earning a hard shove to the back every time he so much as slowed his step. He protested the entire way that he had come peacefully, and needed to speak with the general; yet no responses were given, aside from the constant presence of the weapons aimed at him, so by the time they reached the gate he had learned to keep himself quiet if he knew what was best for him.

The gate was opened promptly, and again he was shoved inside. The Kana within the city stared at him in curiosity as he was marched through the town; when they passed the taverns, several of the soldiers stepped out into the street to spit at him, and the messenger flinched and cringed in on himself, still bewildered and uncertain how to even react to such treatment; all he had been told was to deliver a message. Within moments he was dumped into the jail cells where a guard stood watch over him; when he tried to speak his piece, he was rewarded with a sword butt upside the head, and then a kick to the ribs, and so he lay gasping in the far corner of the cell, his face bruised and bleeding and the first twinges of regret forming in his aching head. He saw his scroll being carried away, just as another Kana entered the cells, the word Kenta'tapa inscribed upon his lappets; the messenger's eyes grew round and his muzzle quivered with fear. He had heard already of what had happened to Sergeant Rura, and so the thought of facing the Kenta'tapa, under any circumstances, was not a comforting one.

A few moments after that, he was being whipped, yelping out with each blow that all he had wished to do was give a message to the general, would they please just let him speak with the general, he was only a trainee still in the barracks and there was nothing of use that he could possibly tell them, all he wanted to do was go back home to his tribe and his family.

A few more moments after that, a lieutenant arrived, slicing his hand through the air just as the Kenta'tapa raised the whip again, and with that, the beating ended. He unlatched and entered the cell and grasped the messenger by the elbow, pulling him to his feet; the young Kana winced and whimpered in pain, and the lieutenant jerked his hand at another who had entered, a Kana in white lappets who came up beside him and tended briefly to the bruises upon his back. With this he was escorted out of the cells and toward the main household, down the halls, and into the main court, where another group of Kana was gathered. The messenger had to be helped along the entire way by the lieutenant; he managed to lift his head, his wings and legs shaky, and it was only when he saw the scroll, held open in one of the Kana's hands, that he dared to at last feel a tiny shred of hope, that perhaps he would be returning home alive, after all.

He met the eyes of the Kana holding the papyrus, and they were a strange pale brown, yet as cold as the water of the river. His purple lappets gleamed on both sides of his handsome yet ruthless face.

"You bring a message from the River Tribe," he said, even his voice as cool as a desert night, and his mouth twitched in an unfriendly smile, his ear cocking to the side.

"How may the Yellow Sands assist our unfortunate brothers?"

Continue:

"Part 46: Hope" 


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