Part 65: Traitor

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HOW LONG HAD he been here now? Lieutenant Djuta had lost track. He knew it had not been very long at all; possibly a couple of weeks, or perhaps a month. He still did not feel comfortable among the Yellow Sands Tribe...but at least it was familiar now...and the others seemed somewhat more comfortable in his presence.

He never did warm thoroughly to Sergeants Kheten and Tes'khi, though this was of little consequence, as they were small Kana within the household, and, as he learned, did not even properly dwell there. Similar to their company was Lieutenant Hakh'tas, who he found he did not want to get to know, though he did have odd dreams once in a while that the other Kana was coming after him, fully naked, and as he did so, he pulled back his sheath and instead of a penis, revealed a long threatening whip which sliced through the air with an echoing crack. He always woke up before it could get any more bizarre than that, and, oddly enough, found the dream more ludicrous than frightening. He wondered if perhaps this place was getting to him.

He didn't get to see She'hekha very often, as the lieutenant was usually busy, being the first lieutenant to the general; judging by how busy Nehef had been back in the old tribe, he guessed it was a rather strenuous position. As soon as he thought of Nehef, his mind wandered, and he sighed somewhat; they'd never been close at all, but right now he did miss the jovial lieutenant, and his tales of his ribald adventures--more of them likely false than true--with the tavernkeeper's daughters. He did, however, get to know Lieutenant Fa'rukha very well, as he was talkative and did not have a nosy father who insisted on always knowing where he was. What was more, Fa'rukha seemed to like him, despite his frequent sen'akha jokes--and whenever he made such a comment, it was quite easy enough for Djuta to feign some sort of pass at him, which would make him promptly back off. He sensed that the Yellow Sands lieutenant was rather gullible sometimes, but he wasn't stupid...and that was both a blessing and a curse, to Djuta.

For his lack of familiarity with the former Kana, Djuta was happy. For his familiarity with the latter, he was not. He would rather have not known Fa'rukha well at all, because of what he would end up having to do.

He made up his mind to tell only Yekh'iet of his plans. General Nehara was generous in "sharing" her with him, although aside from her initial offering of ahi'akhta, the two of them had not touched in such a manner, and did nothing but talk during the times that they met. The female seemed sincere in backing him up, though he had no idea what she could do to help him. It took him a while to notice that she had been helping him all along, offering small encouragements whenever he went over a new part of his plan. He felt she would not be instructing him thus if she didn't know what was going to happen.

She never told him of any direct outcomes, as he had asked her not to do, but she did seem to know when he should do things and when he should not.

And so when night was deep and morning was still a ways off one day, and memories of the Great Red Tribe were making his heart sting in his breast, he finally decided that now was the time.

Nehara had been calling him to his quarters regularly. After the initial shock of reliving what Bakh'asu had done to him, Djuta had accustomed himself to sharing the general's bed. There was something he enjoyed about Nehara's attentions, yet there was much more he despised. Whenever he envisioned Yekh'iet with her shawl tied in a knot about her neck, the Moru gasping and choking, he felt like doing the same thing to Nehara and never loosening his grip. His own rage surprised and confused him, although he felt it shouldn't.

He also felt that it was Nehara's attention toward him that made him delay as long as he did. For the other Kana never seemed interested in calling Yekh'iet, and this was what Djuta had wanted him to do. Finally, on this night, he received no summons to go to Nehara's quarters; though he did see one of the few guards of the house seek out Yekh'iet and walk away with her. Djuta made sure to meet her eyes before she disappeared, and though her own were fearful, he knew he had nothing to worry about. Yet.

Based on what Yekh'iet had told him, he knew about how long the two of them would be preoccupied, before Nehara would fall asleep. So Djuta stayed nearby and bided his time, although it was difficult to do so, as he kept imagining the Kana choking her, and he hated leaving her alone with that brute for long. No matter how useful it might be for him.

The plan had been to let Nehara call Yekh'iet to his rooms...for her to prophesy for him...and for them to fall asleep together. Only Yekh'iet would not really sleep. And then things would begin.

He sat and waited for an hour, and then waited a half an hour more, just in case Nehara decided to take his time. He'd done so with Djuta plenty of times. Dawn had not yet arrived even then, but he rose and silently made his way down the hall. He pulled his dagger from his belt and fiddled it in his hand nervously as he went; he hoped he would not have to use it, but knowing that it was there helped.

He made his way down the long hall that led to the corner near where Nehara's rooms were. He kept his gaze focused on the floor as he went over every way this plan could go wrong. If anything happened, he hoped that at least Yekh'iet would make it out all right. Even if he should die, he couldn't bear the thought of her being endangered just because of him. She hadn't even done anything that, among the Kana, could be considered treasonous...what would Nehara do to her if he found her out...?

"Djuta?"

Djuta's head jerked up when he heard the voice. His heart nearly froze in his chest. He hadn't been keeping his eyes open for guards, as Nehara so rarely used them; which was why Fa'rukha's presence in the hallway startled him so much. It looked as if the other lieutenant were merely on his way past, and he knew it would have been an easy enough thing to explain his presence away as a summons to Nehara's quarters...if he hadn't been holding his dagger in his hand, his fingers clenched around it so tightly that his knuckles had gone white.

Fa'rukha's eyes hadn't missed this little detail. He looked down at the weapon, then back up at Djuta. Djuta hated the look that he saw there; it was the exact reason why he wished they had not come to know each other so well. He damned the moment the Kana had first offered him food at the campfire.

"What is this?" Fa'rukha asked quietly, his face growing guarded.

Djuta's grip tightened on the dagger. He briefly considered lying--I was going to the courtyard to practice--I was looking for a whetstone--then remembered that the other lieutenant wasn't quite so gullible as that. Already the look in his eyes told Djuta that he was beginning to put things together, and no sort of lie would be convincing enough to turn him back now. Djuta took a step back so they were further separated, and the guarded look in Fa'rukha's eyes immediately became hostile; Djuta felt a pang in his heart. Why couldn't he be more gullible--?

"I'm not here for you," he replied, just as quietly. "If you leave me alone, you won't be hurt."

Fa'rukha took a step back himself and put his hand on the pommel of his sword. Djuta had never thought his eyes could look so spiteful.

He thought quickly, desperate to salvage the situation. "You can join me," he whispered, stepping forward. He held out his free hand, keeping the dagger at his side; Fa'rukha glanced at his hand as if it held an asp. "I did not wish you to be involved as I didn't want you hurt," Djuta said. "But you can join me, and that won't happen."

"You never intended to join us," Fa'rukha said, still piecing it together.

"I only want an end to this," Djuta said between his teeth. "I remember your words when you spoke of Nehara taking over. Murder. You do not agree with his tactics, either."

Fa'rukha scowled. "Neither did I say I wanted him killed!"

"As I did not!" Djuta hissed. "I do not plan to kill him! Only to put an end to all this pointless fighting! I have lost too many friends because of stupid disputes that generals like him insist on keeping up!" He forced himself to take a breath and calm down before speaking again. "You can come with me," he entreated. "Lord Mahakhi will have a place for you in the tribe. No matter what She'hekha has told you. He is fair to his Kana; I am the one who made mistakes. You can start afresh, unlike me. You will be welcome there."

"And abandon my tribe? My men? When your grudge is against only one?" Fa'rukha's muzzle wrinkled. "You do not know what you ask of me. I thought you were a smarter Kana than that. I will never betray the Yellow Sands."

Djuta felt a stab in his heart. He pulled out his sword and it made a soft hissing sound against its scabbard. Fa'rukha stared at it as he leveled it out in front of him, then their eyes met again.

"Then you are against me," Djuta said, every word sending another stab of pain through him, though he managed to keep his face neutral. "And even if we are brothers, I will cut you down before I let you detain me."

Fa'rukha stared at him in silence for a long while. Djuta didn't know how he kept his grip steady on the sword, as his fingers felt ice cold. He was ready to drop it or swing it--he didn't know which--when Fa'rukha took a step to the side, further to the edge of the hall. Djuta blinked at him and his stance wavered.

"I never said I would fight you," Fa'rukha said. He removed his hand from his sword. "I will not join you." He turned back in the direction that he'd been heading in when he and Djuta had met. "But neither will I stop you."

Djuta stared at him in disbelief. Suspicion began to gnaw at his brain and his lip curled back.

"I thought you had said you would never betray your tribe? I'm supposed to believe you now?"

"As far as I'm concerned we never met tonight," Fa'rukha growled at him over his shoulder. He turned away and started off down the hall. "And as far as you are concerned, we never met, ever."

Djuta continued staring at him as he walked away. He still couldn't believe what he'd just heard...but a feeling of relief, mixed with sorrow, washed over him. He carefully put his sword away and called out as loudly as he dared.

"I do not care what you say, Fa'rukha. Even if I am not worthy to be your brother, you will always be a brother to me."

Fa'rukha didn't look back or otherwise acknowledge the comment; he walked now much like Hakh'tas always did, wings hunching and sandals clacking harshly against the floor like weapons. Djuta watched him until he had disappeared around the corner, then let out his breath. He turned back toward Nehara's rooms and tried to put the lieutenant out of his mind, and focus on his goal.

No more distractions. I must keep my mind on this now, at all costs.

With this thought, he made his way to the general's door and, after listening at it for a moment or two, gently pushed it open. He listened again and heard nothing but soft breathing. One oil lamp burned dimly, but other than that the room was still and silent. Djuta stepped inside, keeping his dagger at the ready, and crept toward the bed.

Yekh'iet must have been awake the entire time, for as soon as he reached the bed's edge he saw her open her eyes. She sat up, eyes wide, but he made a gesture for her to remain still. She nodded and he could see her swallow. He glanced down at Nehara, who lay just beside her, eyes closed and chest rising and falling slowly. He seemed peaceful now...but Djuta imagined him with his hands around Yekh'iet's neck, and felt the rage boil up inside him. He nodded at Yekh'iet to get out of the bed. She crept toward the edge of it and put her feet on the floor, standing up and tiptoeing away without making a sound.

Unfortunately, it wasn't sound he had to be worried about after all. The sheet caught on the tip of Yekh'iet's wing as she drew away from the bed, and thus pulled away from Nehara's foot, sliding over his toes. Djuta caught sight of this only at the last minute and froze. Nehara stirred and lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, then blinked a few times. He started to turn his head in Yekh'iet's direction--she stood not far from the bed now, a stricken look on her face--but Djuta moved, hiding his dagger behind his back, and Nehara turned to him instead. The general arched his brows in seeming surprise.

"Djuta?" he said mildly, then gave a slight smile. "Sneaking into my room at night...do you think this is fitting behavior?"

Djuta let out his breath. The best thing to do now was just go along with it. "I apologize, Lord...but I did not get to speak with you, earlier."

"And so you decided to stop by unannounced? You know by now that you are more than welcome in here, Djuta." Djuta suppressed an inward cringe; Nehara always managed to make his name sound like a dirty word. "You hardly had to sneak around to get here."

"Well..." As he spoke he noticed Yekh'iet again, and Nehara saw his look, for he turned to look at her as well. Yekh'iet gasped and drew in on herself, but had nowhere to go. Nehara turned back to Djuta and his smile had changed.

"Ah...I see. This is why you did not want to ask..."

Djuta struggled to think of a response, but no words would come. "You are ashamed to ask that she watch," Nehara said, and Djuta suddenly found himself even more without words. Nehara's smile grew. "Perhaps you did not know...but I find that, on occasion, having a watcher can be amusing."

Yekh'iet's face went bright red. Djuta let out his breath again and wasn't afraid to show his relief. He made certain to cast his stare sideways, as if embarrassed.

"I...was not certain how to ask this question, Lord. It seems you've answered it for me anyway..."

"You needn't feel embarrassed speaking about anything in my presence, Lord Djuta." Nehara sat up and patted the bed beside him. "Why do you not at least sit down, first? Before your face goes any whiter."

Djuta obeyed, slipping his dagger into the back of his belt. He sat down, and Nehara gestured to Yekh'iet.

"You, also. Right over here. I will speak with you shortly." He turned back to Djuta as Yekh'iet resumed her place on the other side of the bed, and put his hand up to Djuta's cheek, cupping his face. Djuta's heart started rapping against his breastbone. Nehara smiled. "So...you are here now. You wish to speak? Or keep yourself otherwise occupied?"

"I'm not certain I have the right words to say," Djuta replied. "Obviously you are better with words than I am."

"Merely because I do not find nesakh'ai embarrassing. Your tribe must be in a sorry state by now if such things make you blush."

"I had only wondered why I was not called tonight..." Djuta stalled, trying to think of things to say. Yekh'iet's eyes remained on him the whole time. Nehara sat forward so their faces were a finger's length apart, and he sucked in a breath.

"Only because of another small matter...but as you are here now, I suppose we could keep ourselves busy until I'm needed elsewhere..."

Djuta said nothing, sensing that he didn't have to. Nehara leaned toward him so their muzzles met, and even though he didn't want to, Djuta opened his mouth. They kissed each other for a moment or two--Yekh'iet looked away, Djuta noticed--and when he felt Nehara's claws dig into his nape, he stiffened, then relaxed. Nehara brought his knee up and moved closer to Djuta in the bed, his other hand going to rest on his back. Djuta prayed that his fingers would not roam further down and discover the handle protruding from his kilt.

Nehara's mouth parted from his. Again the same pale-eyed smile which made Djuta want to both surrender in desire and shudder in revulsion.

"Does this occupy your thoughts?" the general murmured. Djuta nodded, his eyes glazed. Nehara smiled and stroked his neck, touching their foreheads together. Djuta smelled the wine on his breath, felt its warmth against his cheeks. "Unfortunately, we will have to make this quick...though I know you may still enjoy it."

Djuta made himself relax. He tensed just slightly when Nehara's hand ran down his back, but before reaching the dagger it slipped around to the front, sliding up between his legs. They kissed again and Djuta sat still, his sheath throbbing painfully, as the other Kana caressed it and undid his loincloth. Still holding his neck, Nehara sat back and pulled Djuta down with him so the lieutenant straddled him; as Nehara's fingers trailed up his buttock, Djuta slipped one hand behind his back to pull the dagger from his kilt before it could slide out. He braced his knees when he discovered that Nehara was already unclothed below the waist, so he barely expected it when he felt that hot hardness press into him. He let out his breath in a gasp, stiffening; Nehara pushed upward until he filled him and their hips locked. Djuta's member quivered over his belly, and he could feel its moisture as their stomachs pressed together.

Nehara's lips brushed against his ear. "How is this?" he whispered huskily. "We may go as quickly or as leisurely as we like...you may even guide..."

And now he stiffened and cut himself off, when Djuta's dagger pressing against his throat made its point.

Nehara lay still, an odd look in his eyes as Djuta pulled himself up and off, panting heavily as he pushed his kilt down over his erection, not bothering with his loincloth. He stood beside the bed, but kept the weapon leveled at Nehara's neck, its tip just piercing his skin.

Nehara's eyes narrowed. "I take it my company was a ruse," he said, and Djuta stepped to the side, still keeping the dagger in place. The general's voice was oddly neutral. "And so you did not wish to join us after all...poor judgement, on She'hekha's part."

"This is no fault of anyone but yourself and me," Djuta growled. "There will be no more bloodshed, starting this very day."

"And what makes you so certain of things that have yet to pass?"

"My own sickness. I am sick of the killing. Maybe this is what an honorable Kana does, but an honorable Kana also mourns his fallen brothers. I have seen far too many fall. It ends now."

Nehara's nostrils flared. "You think you will make one piddling bit of difference? I have six hundred men under my command, Lieutenant. And as soon as Lord She'hekha hears of this, you will know you've picked the wrong Kana to convince of your worth."

"Sit up," Djuta commanded. Pulling on Nehara's shoulder, he managed to get him into an upright position. Nehara's eyes seemed to have darkened a shade or two; although he did not scream, did not flail about, did not even try to attack him, Djuta could feel his rage. He waved at the side of the room.

"Yekh'iet. Your shawl."

Nehara darted a glance at the Moru as she came forward, pulling her shawl from around her neck and handing it to Djuta with wide eyes. Nehara's own eyes narrowed when Djuta took it from her.

"You also, Yekh'iet?" he said mildly as Djuta tied his wrists behind his back with the cloth. Yekh'iet paled and stepped behind Djuta, who yanked on the cloth so Nehara winced.

"You do not speak to her," he said. "You speak only to me. She is not your slave anymore."

"And so this explains why you wished your own private time with her..." Nehara's nostrils flared as Djuta stepped away and started poking around his room. "You hardly think this little thing will hold me long, do you?"

"This is exactly what I was thinking. That I'll find something sturdier in the meantime." He couldn't find any rope, so returned to the bed and, using his dagger, sliced at the sheets. Yekh'iet flinched as if he were cutting open a body itself. He knotted the flayed fabric into a makeshift rope and wrapped it around Nehara's wrists, pulling on it as tightly as he could. Cutting more shreds, he used them to hobble Nehara's wings. The entire time the general sat in silence with that neutral look on his face, but Djuta knew him well enough by now to recognize the hatred simmering in his eyes. He stepped back and started rummaging through his room again.

"And so how long did you have this planned?" Nehara said in the same calm voice, as Djuta located his weapons and pulled out his sword and scabbard. He dug around for armor and found some in a box.

"Long enough. The same as you and your men have had your stupid battle planned long enough."

"You realize it was your own tribe that decimated mine. Not the other way around."

"This was long ago and in the past. Dead and buried, like the friends I have lost. If you had known the hell I went through following our last battle, then you would understand."

Nehara's eyes narrowed again. "I already know hell. You underestimate me." His ear twitched. "Perhaps it is because I admire your guts, no matter how foolish they may be. But you're making a serious mistake."

"My only mistake was waiting so long," Djuta said. He found a lighter armored girdle and tossed it to Yekh'iet. "Put this on. It will be big but it should cover you."

Nehara turned to look at her as she slipped the armor on over her head, stretching her wings through the holes. "And you, Yekh'iet," he said. "Just last night you told me this day would be a lucky one for me. I take it that your prophecies extend to include lies, now? How hard did he have to ride you to convince you of that?"

Yekh'iet flushed and averted her eyes. Djuta strode toward the bed and slammed his hand across Nehara's face so his head spun to the side. He calmly returned to rummaging through the other Kana's armor and clothes while Nehara turned back, a line of blood running from his nose. He smiled a bit crookedly, as his cheek was swelling.

"You are not interested in knowing your mistake?"

"I told you already what it was. Now shut up or I'll blacken the other side of your face." He went back to Nehara just long enough to pull him up and wrap a kilt around his waist, then shoving him back to the bed and returning to the boxes. Nehara shifted his foot out from underneath him but didn't try to get up on his own.

"I am used to bruises. If you and I had known each other a bit longer, you would know this as well. Yekh'iet already does." He pushed himself to sit more upright. "I will give you some advice, since I like you so much. Your mistake is that you underestimate not only me, but my men."

"Your men are not here right now. I am."

"Yet things have a way of changing." Djuta paused in his digging and felt a coldness creep over him as Nehara spoke. "The real reason why I called Yekh'iet to my rooms last night, and not you. I know how you like to sleep in a bit in the morning. Yet I was expected at a meeting in the war room just over a half hour ago." Djuta turned to look at him and Nehara smiled. "Because of how I attained my position here, my men tend to get...anxious if I am anything over a half hour late."

Djuta stared at him, his heart starting to hammer again.

Damn the gods...no wonder he has no guards!

Far off he heard odd noises growing louder, then Yekh'iet yelled, "Lord Djuta!"

He whirled around. She gave him a panicked look, then hurried away from the door. Clanking, running noises came from outside. Djuta hissed and jumped toward the bed, dragging Nehara to his feet, pressing the dagger to his throat and keeping the general in front of him. "If you make one little move, my promise of no more bloodshed is off," he snarled. "You tell your men that."

"I believe you will have that chance," Nehara said, and the door burst open. She'hekha, Fa'rukha, Kheten, Tes'khi, and several others whose names he didn't know appeared in the doorway, their eyes wide and their weapons drawn.

"Djuta--?" She'hekha exclaimed, sounding startled.

Djuta bared his teeth and pressed the dagger harder against Nehara's neck. "Do not try anything," he threatened.

She'hekha could only look from him to Nehara, his eyes confused. "What is going on here?" he asked in a bewildered voice. Djuta felt the pang in his heart again--remembering how awfully the other lieutenant had been betrayed before--but told himself to ignore it, detach himself from it--none of this was even about friendship. It never had been.

Nehara's nostrils flared as Djuta pulled back on him slightly. "It seems you showed poor judgement for once, She'hekha," he said. "I have the feeling he does not wish to quit pandering to Lord Mahakhi, after all."

"Be quiet!" Djuta hissed, digging the dagger more deeply at his neck. The men in the doorway tensed but didn't come closer. Djuta stretched his wing in Yekh'iet's direction.

"Yekh'iet. The window. Go. Now."

The Moru hesitated just a moment before turning and hurrying to the window and outside, toward the courtyard. She peered back in, eyes wide.

She'hekha's muzzle wrinkled. "Djuta," he said in a dangerously low voice. "Tell me what this is. What sort of game you're playing. Because I hate games."

"I play no game," Djuta replied. "I am sorry I used you, She'hekha. Fa'rukha." He glanced at Fa'rukha, but the other lieutenant averted his eyes with a rueful look. Djuta steeled his voice. "But the fighting ends here. You can hardly go into battle without a general. There will be no revenge against the Great Red Tribe. You should have accepted Lord Fe'kheru's defeat as your own."

She'hekha spat. "That's what this is all about? He is not our leader nor even of our tribe! Perhaps they are happy with their outcome but we are not! There were hardly any healthy men left after your tribe slaughtered them all!"

"This is the very reason!" Djuta snapped. "I will not deny that there has been a slaughter, but you are not the only one grieving! I lost a good friend in our last battle with the River Tribe--and Lord Fe'kheru lost one of his! His lieutenant lost his brother AND his father! You do not see them seeking blood although they have lost! You do not see me seeking blood because I grieve! Things end, and people move on! This you must learn to do for a change!"

She'hekha's voice lowered to a hiss. "This is not my decision."

Djuta tightened his grip on Nehara and took a step back toward the window. "Yet it is your general's decision," he said, and the Kana in the doorway straightened upright, lowering their swords slightly. She'hekha's look changed, becoming uncertain.

"You said you do not seek blood," he growled. "You will kill a general and honestly believe you have no blood on your hands?"

"I did not say I would kill him." Djuta lifted the dagger a bit so it pointed at the hollow of Nehara's throat. "I will only take him with me. As insurance that you fail to follow through on your promise to attack my tribe. You are not much more innocent than I am, She'hekha. I know you planned to come after my people."

She'hekha's muzzle wrinkled and his lip curled back. "I said nothing otherwise. At least I have been truthful in my intent!"

"And now I will be truthful too." Djuta moved so he stood more to Nehara's side, but kept the blade trained at his throat. "Your general comes with me...for the time being. If you or any of the other men follow us, he will die. I do not care if you kill me also; it would be only a relief to me. If you kill Yekh'iet, then you have proven that you are as honorable as dung for slaying a female who is with child." Nehara blinked, and the other Kana in the doorway did as well. Yekh'iet, for her part, gawked at Djuta for just a second before regathering herself. "Either way, you will all lose, and once my tribe finds out of my death they will be all over your settlement by the score. I have seen the way the majority of your Kana are. They are lazy and indolent and will hardly know how to defend themselves. Then you will have the time to ponder whether revenge was a good idea or not. If you live." He started toward the window, walking backwards with Nehara before him. The other Kana took slow steps into the room, yet the distance between them stayed always the same. Djuta finally stopped and pricked the dagger at Nehara's neck so it drew a line of blood and made the general flinch. This halted the men immediately.

"Do not even try," Djuta growled.

"Djuta." This time it was Fa'rukha. He took a step forward to stand at She'hekha's side and held up one hand in supplication. "Please. Think about this."

"I have thought already." Djuta met his eyes. "I am sorry, Fa'rukha. And I know you do not believe me, but I am sorry for you as well, She'hekha."

She'hekha's eyes narrowed and he bared his teeth, his knuckles turning white as he clutched his sword. He spat on the floor and Djuta accepted the gesture. He backed outside with Nehara and Yekh'iet. The other Kana started to rush forward only for him to jab the dagger again, opening up a cut which made them screech to a halt.

"I said to stay where you are!" he barked. "I am FULLY willing to die! But I doubt your tribe could afford to lose your general AND your Seer!"

She'hekha responded by snarling and lifting his sword. "Do as he says!" Nehara suddenly hissed, to Djuta's surprise; the other Kana hesitated and Nehara bared his teeth. "You wish me dead this moment? Step back! You will have plenty of chances once we are gone!"

The lieutenants looked uncertain once more, but Djuta was relieved that they obeyed. As he backed out into the courtyard Nehara whispered, "You've just used your head start. I suggest you make the most of it, for it's the only respite you'll receive before you die."

"Nothing is that certain now," Djuta replied. "I suggest you keep silent until this is over."

"You seem certain enough of that," Nehara said, but that was all. The three of them walked across the courtyard toward the front exit, which led back into the household. Djuta hated the general layout of Kana households now; he would have to pass straight through the vipers' den again, and he didn't like this thought. For now Nehara's best men were held at bay, but he didn't know what to expect of the rest of them.

"Yekh'iet," he said, out of desperation. "Is this hallway clear?"

She nodded, and he hurried them forward. They entered the household again and the hallway loomed long and silent before them. Djuta glanced from left to right, and he saw Yekh'iet keep looking over her shoulder. They reached the bend of the hallway without incident and turned left.

Djuta nearly swallowed his tongue. He couldn't believe his poor luck when he spotted another Kana just several paces away. Lord Hakh'tas. The other lieutenant turned his head and his eyes grew huge on seeing them. "HEY!" he yelled, and drew his sword. Djuta almost expected to see a whip come out instead.

Only at that moment did he remember that he was armed with only a dagger, which was already in use at Nehara's throat. He couldn't let go of him to get his sword, and he couldn't pull the dagger back without letting go of him. He hadn't thought to give Yekh'iet a weapon of any sort, and he cursed himself inwardly.

Crack! Hakh'tas's sword clattered to the floor and he fell forward in a slump, right on his face. Djuta felt the tiniest bit of satisfaction, as well as surprise, that he'd been dealt such a blow, then glanced upward to see who had dealt it.

He blinked when he saw that it was Ze'thet. She stood outside what he took to be the door to the Moru quarters, her wrists tied but her hands still forming the perfect cudgel. She spat on Hakh'tas and wrinkled her nose in a comically delicate manner, as if he smelled like dung. Djuta didn't even wish to guess what might have been going on before he'd reached here.

Instead, he stepped forward, keeping a grip on Nehara's arm, and took just enough time to swing the dagger at her. It sliced neatly through the bonds around her wrists and cut them free. Ze'thet rubbed at them with a puzzled look.

"You go free if you help me," Djuta said simply, and that was enough to convince her. He pulled his sword and tossed her the dagger, keeping the former pointed at Nehara's back so the general was forced to walk ahead of them. Ze'thet grinned wickedly and clenched the dagger in her hand, and they managed to make their way out of the household without further incident.

There were no guards stationed at the front of the household. Apparently word had not reached anyone else yet of what was happening, and for that Djuta was grateful. They jogged down the steps and off of the property, out into the street only long enough to duck into an alley. Djuta kept a tight grip on Nehara's arm as they went, coming to a dead end blocked by the city wall. Djuta paused to knock a few loose bricks aside, revealing a hole. The hole in Nehara's door had given him this idea, and in the past several days he had worked on transporting enough food and goods out through this opening. He had even managed to push a few Sha out through it, as difficult and as noisy as that had been. As such, he had mounts, and enough supplies outside to last them at least a short while in the wild. He hoped they wouldn't need more.

He went through first, pulling Nehara out after him; Yekh'iet came next, then Ze'thet, who had replaced her at the rear. They jogged away from the city wall, ducking low whenever a Kana appeared atop it, until they reached a clump of trees marking the edge of the desert. Here, a group of three Sha milled, bleating hungrily. Djuta untied them and tossed the reins of one to Ze'thet, who shook her head as if in offense and handed them to Yekh'iet. Djuta cocked an ear.

"You are sure of that?"

She nodded, so he shrugged and nodded as well. While Ze'thet kept an eye on Nehara he helped Yekh'iet atop her Sha, then put Nehara upon another one. He didn't like the thought of wasting the animal's precious energy on the brute, but knew it would be easier to keep control of him this way. He started putting the packs of food upon the animals as well, loading them down as much as he could. Ze'thet kept her eye on the path they had left behind them. So far no one came.

This made Djuta feel uneasy. He knew She'hekha was no coward; why hadn't he come after them yet?

"You forget that I ordered them to stay," Nehara said dryly in response to the unasked question. "This won't keep them for very long, however."

"Long enough as it is," Djuta replied, tightening the packs to make sure they would stay on.

"And what, exactly, do you plan on doing once we are out in the desert? From what I know, you will not be welcomed back at your tribe with open arms. And should you return to mine, you know who will be waiting there to flay your wings for you. You have nowhere left you can turn."

Djuta gave the general a venomous look and pointed his sword at him. "I hardly believe you are so concerned for my wellbeing, General. What happens to us and where I decide to go is my concern. You needn't bother your head with guessing."

Nehara only shrugged. "You must be preferential to death, then."

Djuta ignored the comment, though in truth, even with all of the food and drink they had, and his and possibly Ze'thet's skills in hunting, he worried about the voyage back to his tribe. It had taken days to reach the Yellow Sands Tribe while riding at a good speed for most of the day; he knew they could not make that sort of progress with a hostage and a frail female in tow. Ze'thet and himself, he knew could live in the desert if push came to shove; and Nehara looked capable enough of handling himself, should he escape somehow...but looking at Yekh'iet, he knew she would not last very long on her own.

She looked back at him, and only now did he realize he was staring. Ears flushing, he finished his task and grabbed hold of the lead Sha's reins, a little too abruptly. The creature bleated but obeyed, and the others followed. Still casting many backwards glances at the now-distant city, the small band of fugitives made their way off across the burning sand.

* * * * *

Night fell on the Great Red Tribe as it always did, but, as it had been for the past week or so, even the taverns were subdued in their activity. No one yelled or shouted or sang as they weaved their way home. The Kana were especially quiet as they passed the imposing household of the general. This week alone, two of their own, a lieutenant and a sergeant, had been dragged to the square and flogged for their impertinence, when so far under Mahakhi's reign such a thing had never occurred before except as punishment for crimes. By now everyone knew better than to get on the general's bad side, for it had never been more evident than it was now. Even those living under his roof made certain to be quieter than usual, and his two lieutenants, Nehef and Ahai'ikh, wandered about doing various things, as he had dismissed them long ago. Everyone was in a pensive mood brought on by the pall of the Hawk Tribe. By now, almost everyone spoke of how they must be cursed with ill luck following their slaughter. Why else would the air be so heavy and ominous?

Captain Ahen, as pragmatic as he was, did not believe in curses. So he did not let such a thought occupy his mind. This did not mean that his mind was not distracted by dark thoughts. He knew that the Kana themselves could be much more ominous than any curse.

His mind was so occupied with this thought that he hardly even enjoyed nesakh'ai today, his hands gripping the hips of the Moru who knelt beneath him as he pushed and relaxed, pushed and relaxed. He panted heavily and his body responded as it always did, but his mind was not in it. He thought over the tribe's situation for what must have been the thousandth time and still it became no clearer. There was definitely a change in things since General Dja'mui had asked for admission into the settlement; but what had caused it? Surely they did not have to worry about this supposed enemy tribe...did they?

He realized now that he was thinking about tribal matters when he should have been thinking about something else. He sighed and shook his head to clear it, resolving to enjoy the rest of his scant time with his mate. At eighteen she was much younger than he was, yet she had already given him three pups, and even as they mated her belly was full with another. Ahen allowed his hand to trail over the gentle swell as he moved, and he felt a tiny kick. She had dropped three boys so far--two of them Kana--and as odd as it was, he rather wished she would give him a little girl for a change. He shut his eyes as he thought of this. His second mate had given him a girl, but she had died young, of the illness. Ta'pepet had been his mate since the age of twelve, though he had not taken her until her fifteenth year. The day he had bought her she had been shy and timid toward the big imposing captain. In her thirteenth year he had treated her as a daughter. In her fourteenth year they had shared the same bed, and had often kissed and fondled one another until she giggled. In her fifteenth year, when they finally mated, she had been like a wildcat, bucking and biting and clawing. And she had giggled the whole time.

Ahen believed that patience could gain one great things, and so with patience he had gained a loving mate in Ta'pepet. He felt some disgust as he thought of Captain K'tasai and his little Moru, Tiths'hit; at thirteen he had begun mating her from the start, and already her belly was swelling with child, when to Ahen she was far too young to safely bear a pup. But not every Kana could have patience, he supposed.

Ta'pepet moaned aloud and he felt her tighten. He moved both hands to her belly now and caressed its bulge as he thrust, the two of them rocking and panting. She began to tremble against him and he bowed over her back to bite gently at her nape, sliding one hand up to squeeze her breast. The sound of her gasping and the sight of her tipping her head back, mouth slack, aroused him; he pushed a little harder and the bed creaked. Ta'pepet whimpered and he clutched her belly, his thighs pressing against hers.

"Are you ready to come, beloved one?" he whispered huskily in her ear. Ta'pepet whimpered again and shook.

"I am almost ready, Lord," she breathed. He had long ago taught her proper Kana, so she spoke his tongue fluently, even when in the throes of desire. She tilted her head back against his and he bit at her neck. "Only touch me, you know where, exactly where...and I will come just for you, Lord..."

Ahen complied and slid his hand down between her legs. His fingers rubbed over the fold of skin there, caressing her thik'ahi until she shook even harder and tensed, letting out a long, loud cry which rose higher as her climax approached and washed over her. Ahen gripped her and bumped his hips forward with a grunt. He let out his breath to feel his seed spurt inside her, but his wings rose and his tail flicked from side to side to feel an additional wetness upon him. He smiled and stroked Ta'pepet's belly as she moaned and sank to the bed.

"You are all wet, beloved one..."

She did nothing but moan in response, so he carefully pulled himself out, a string of sticky moisture clinging between the two of them. He took her arms and gently rolled her over onto her back. She blinked at him, mouth still slack and muscles loose, her round face flushed with exertion. Ahen smiled and caressed the mound that was their pup.

"Tonight do you wish...?"

Ta'pepet nodded weakly. She brought her legs together and squirmed as if uncomfortable.

"I am aching all over...my teats, and lower...Lord, would you please...?"

He leaned over to kiss her cheek. "You do not have to ask." He pulled back, then leaned down toward her chest. He cupped one heavy breast and took the nipple in his mouth, beginning to suck at it as his mate moaned and writhed upon the bed. He did this for a while, savoring the sweet taste of her milk until she gasped aloud.

"The...the other one, Lord..."

He repeated the gesture with her other breast. When he had relieved her of this, she spread her legs wide, knees bent up, and tilted her head back into the pillows. Ahen's smile grew. He would not say so to her, but he rather enjoyed this part, as rarely as it came.

"L...Lord...my fount, please, release my fount!"

This was what she called it, as he supposed she had no better words. Neither, it happened, did he. Instead of saying so, he took hold of her thighs and parted them wider, pulling over a couple of pillows to place beneath her ample buttocks. Ta'pepet whined and squirmed the whole time. Ahen finished situating her before leaning down once more, his muzzle pointed at the warm, welcoming opening between her legs.

"You are prepared, beloved?"

She nodded as best as she could. "Please, Lord...only you know how to do it..."

The Kana pushed his nose at her opening, rooting and licking at the sticky sweetness there. His mate shuddered and tensed as his tongue worked inside her. She had a delicious taste, and he found himself growing hard as he licked; it was rare by now that he ever felt the urge to mate twice in a row, but she could easily excite him that way. The moans and gasps that she let out made him swell as well, and he had to shift his own leg, his shaft straining upward and outward. Ta'pepet began to slowly pump her hips up and down, whimpering and clutching at the sheets, moving in rhythm with his tongue thrusts. He swirled it over her thik'ahi and it was suddenly as if a flood was released--Ta'pepet squealed and jerked, and a squirt of fluid sprayed from her, hitting Ahen in the face. He snorted and shook his head to clear his eyes, pulling back but rubbing his thumb over her again. This time she screamed when she sprayed, and he caught the creamy juice in his mouth, lapping it up as if it were wine. When Ta'pepet sank back to the bed again with a loud moan he sat up and wiped at his mouth, smiling down at her. She couldn't even respond at first, she was so spent.

He ran his fingers over her cheek and felt her weakly snuggle against him. He leaned down to nuzzle at her throat, and she put out her arms so they nestled together in the bed.

"I'll leave you to rest now, beloved..."

He started to sit up again, but she held onto him. "No, wait," she murmured sleepily; he paused and she rolled toward him with a lazy smile. Her hand had wrapped around his member before he could see what she was doing, and he let out a loud snort, muscles tensing. Ta'pepet giggled.

"You are still hard, Lord."

His smile was a bit strained this time. "Because this is what you tend to do, beloved one; you only just now learn this?"

"You cannot go back to the war room like that...please, Lord, let me take care of you first, and then you may go...please?"

Ahen wasn't much interested in declining, as her hand was already sliding up and down. "Very well," he murmured, and took her arms, pulling her up to him. Ta'pepet smiled and they kissed briefly yet hungrily; she made him feel like he was fresh out of the army, her touch was so exciting.

"I know which way you like it," she said in a singsong voice, and he let out a heated growl. She giggled and the next moment or so was spent with the two of them fumbling about, as her girth made it a bit difficult for them to get into position at first. Ahen finally knelt on his haunches with Ta'pepet pressed against him, her back to him and her legs spread back alongside his. His shaft stuck out beneath her and she fondled it for another moment as he pressed close and reached down to part her buttocks. She splayed herself open and slowly descended so he pushed up inside her as deeply as he could go. She then shifted a bit, until he fit snugly, then caressed his arms with a shiver.

Ahen nuzzled her neck and squeezed her breasts. "I must go a little quickly this time, beloved one."

The Moru nodded and smiled in rapture. "I know, Lord...but I will keep you very busy tonight." She tilted her head back even more and whispered, "I have heard--while you were gone--that the south courtyard goes unguarded for a few hours around midnight. There is a full moon tonight...and the pool will feel very inviting. The water makes everything slick and smooth..."

Ahen grunted and jerked, squeezing her tightly. Ta'pepet giggled and dropped her head forward as he rapidly thrust. The thought of taking her in the pool, their bodies weightless and slick with water, lilies sticking to her skin as they surfaced...well, it was a vivid one, and despite whatever new things he would have to worry about after speaking with Mahakhi, he knew his body would be up to dealing with her for hours, if needed. "You have some naughty ideas," he grunted, sinking his claws into her thighs as they bounced quickly upon the bed. "I do not know whether to thank you or chide you for finding out about such an oversight of the guards'."

She gave a breathless laugh, her belly trembling. "If you think that this idea is naughty, Lord...I shan't even tell you...what ideas I've gotten from hearing about Lord Ki'ukha...I should like to think I would be...most enticing tied down to the bed with you atop me--!"

Ahen could not help it. He grasped his mate with a howl and gushed deep inside her. But at least she laughed and gushed in response.

* * * * *

General Mahakhi stood at the far side of his room, hands locked behind his back, staring out the balcony at the courtyard beyond. Nehef and Ahai'ikh--who remained outside--meekly let Ahen in. It was a good measure of the state of affairs when the general's own lieutenants weren't willing to go in and see him.

Ahen approached the general and stopped, waiting to be addressed. Mahakhi didn't bother to turn around or say a word, as if he were not even there. Ahen waited a moment or two before clearing his throat.

"I know you are present," Mahakhi growled. "You needn't be roundabout."

"Unfortunately, I don't believe the rest of your men know this yet," Ahen said. "Your lieutenants are practically cowering outside like Moru."

"This is because I told them to begone. I know what they've been saying; I do not wish to deal with the matter right now."

Ahen tilted his head back. "Ah...I had thought this was about the Blue Oasis Tribe. You are speaking of Lieutenant Djuta."

Even standing behind him, he could tell that the general was scowling. "I do not wish to hear this name," he grated, wings flaring.

Ahen frowned a little. "He is one of your top lieutenants. Somehow I doubt you can erase his name so easily."

"See me try. Should he ever set foot in this tribe again, he will be lucky if he is allowed to remain a sergeant, much less a lieutenant. And he will no longer serve my house."

Ahen paused to allow Mahakhi to simmer for a moment before replying.

"I feel somehow that you hardly mean what you say," he said quietly.

"Believe what you wish."

The captain paused again. "Allow me to speak freely," he said, and Mahakhi snorted.

"You would not be a captain if it did not mean you speak your mind. I am not one to stop you now."

Ahen nodded. "Very well. You speak as if you take this personally. From what little I know, Lord Djuta did not do anything to you; he did this for his own reasons."

"All he does that affects the tribe affects me also. When he betrayed the Great Red Tribe, he betrayed me." Mahakhi's voice grew almost soft now as he stared out at the rippling pool. "I placed my trust in him once," he said, so that Ahen had to strain to hear, stepping up beside him. "I truly believed that out of all my men, he would be the one I could rely upon. Even with Resikh, and Nehef and Ahai'ikh, I did not trust any so much as I trusted him." His face darkened. "That trust is no longer. It had been misplaced. He has done nothing but oppose me at every turn, like a spoiled child."

Ahen's mouth twitched. "Name one time when he has openly opposed you," he said.

Mahakhi's lip curled back. "The tribunal, for one," he snapped. "You yourself saw how he challenged me. He was most certainly guilty, but simply because I showed him leniency he decided to oppose it! All for some stupid Moru!"

"Was it simply to oppose you that he did this, or because he felt himself deserving of punishment under Kana law? And this 'stupid Moru' was one who served you faithfully for years. You called upon her services not that long ago. I do not believe you could write her off so easily as a 'stupid' cause. I know you would not have broken Kana law in favor of your lieutenant unless you felt him right."

Mahakhi's look changed. "We all know Lord Resikh perjured himself," Ahen went on in a neutral tone. "So you needn't be surprised. He is only lucky that Private Ri'hus was also willing to lie to the tribunal...and that you were the one presiding over it."

Mahakhi gave him a dangerous look now. "I said you could speak freely--I did not give you license to insult me!"

"And I have yet to do this, Lord. I do not agree with the judgement you passed, but it was yours to give and not mine. I merely say that you would not have done this if you felt that Djuta had been opposing you. To speak truthfully, he was the most honest person before or within the tribunal that day."

Mahakhi scowled. "Then if you will not accept this example, I offer his entire attitude toward authority. He did challenge me as far as Khetai was concerned, when he knows the law. You would claim he is so upstanding? I have it on good authority that he offered to free her once she bore her child!"

"If she were his slave, this would be his choice."

"One does not go about freeing Moru! Especially when he agreed before that tribunal to take her in! I despise what Rik'hia did but in a way I am relieved. This is only one example out of many, Ahen, and you know it. I have even heard him speak back to you, and you were the kindest face during his trial. He has no understanding of authority, of knowing when to hold his tongue. He is like some stubborn Sha that will not accept a rider it is meant to carry! He does not wear his rank with pride. He wears it like a spiked bridle, and he champs at the bit every chance he gets!"

"You seem to believe this is because he feels he deserves better. I had gotten the opposite impression." When Mahakhi glared at him Ahen queried, "You really wish me to clarify?"

The big Kana's muzzle wrinkled. "Spit it out, Ahen! You've already befouled my foul mood!"

The captain shrugged slightly. "You asked me to, then. You may think Lord Djuta is champing at the bit for the red lappets and for recognition, but in all the time I have known him I have never known him to be ambitious, not once. He knows his place. You and I both know that if we were to seek captains based solely on their skills as Kana, he would be high on the list, if not first. If he is not proud of his rank, then it is not because of his ambition. It is because of the state of the Kana themselves."

Mahakhi bristled. "There is nothing wrong with my Kana! They are the most highly trained in this region!"

"And this might very well be their problem. They have grown too proud of themselves. While you have been fuming in here I have been to see to General Dja'mui's men. Do you know what I have learned? That not that long ago, they were all much like us. They felt they could not be defeated by any enemy, not ever. They had grown complacent and conceited." Mahakhi's look continued to grow ever darker but Ahen went on. "This would not be such a bad thing, if a threat were not possibly on the horizon. Lord Dja'mui never believed it could happen to his men, yet it did. What I think is that Lord Djuta understands this feeling. He saw his closest friend lie before the tribunal just to spare him. When one has been taught to uphold the law of the Kana, what do you think he will feel when he sees it being bent and broken at every turn?"

"My men are NOT criminals!" Mahakhi snarled.

"I have not said this, Lord; you miss my point. What has happened is that we have all grown so used to bending the law, that we no longer know what it is. It has become law to disregard the law. Even you yourself did so. You fault Djuta for opposing you? Imagine if your father came to you and told you that everything you have been taught as a warrior is wrong. And then see how you would feel."

"Father--?" Mahakhi blinked in surprise before swelling up again. "I am hardly that whelp's father!"

Ahen's brow furrowed. "You are very literal."

"Do NOT insult me!"

"I have not once insulted you this day, Lord. But you would be remiss if you claimed that Lord Djuta does not see you as a father."

Mahakhi turned away. "Did not," he muttered. "He is no longer of this tribe."

"And this would not weigh upon you so heavily if you no longer cared about him. General." Ahen moved forward into Mahakhi's line of sight. "You know I do not defend people easily. And you know I do not make decisions based on mere emotions and gut feelings."

Mahakhi was silent for a long while. His nostrils finally flared and he sighed.

"Yes," he said. "I know this."

"Then you know I do not speak lightly," Ahen said. "You know more than anyone that I would not be defending Lord Djuta if I did not feel that he is right. I cannot give you proof that he has not betrayed you...but it is a feeling I have." He paused. "I truly do believe he has not, nor will he ever betray you, Lord. He may fight you, and he may even oppose you...but he knows your trust is not gained easily. And I believe he would not ever break it."

Silence filled the room. Mahakhi did not speak, so Ahen did not, either. He turned so they both stared out across the tile and water, and a warm breeze fanned over them, making their lappets sway. Faint noises arose from the city walls, the sounds of the Kana getting ready for the day.

"If he would not break my trust," Mahakhi said in a low voice, Ahen turning to him, "if he would not ever betray me...then tell me where he has gone, and why. Tell me why he has wounded me like this."

Ahen's wings lowered slightly. "I do not know why he left," he said quietly. "All I know is he must have had his reasons. I have heard that he did not even tell Lord Resikh or his mate of his intentions...so do not believe yourself the only one wounded. Yet if they are willing to trust him still, then surely you are capable of doing the same. Give him this much. He has always served you to the best of his ability, before; do not turn him away so quickly, now."

The silence resumed, taking hold of the room and covering everything like a blanket. It grew so long this time that Ahen was ready to finally leave when Mahakhi at last spoke once more.

"It is his decision whether he returns or not," he said. "Not mine." A pause. "He had best make his decision quickly...for my trust does not last long if it is not rewarded." With this final comment, he stepped out onto the balcony to the edge, and crossed his arms and said nothing more. Ahen watched him for a moment before turning and making his way from the room on his own. No more words were spoken on the matter.

Continue:

"Part 66: Switch" 


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