Part 68: Talk

DISCLAIMER: Nonconsensual scene(s).


THE TRAIL HAD gone stale long ago. Overnight, wind had breezed across the desert floor and swept sand along in little rivulets which obscured every track left behind from things as tiny as scorpions to beasts as large as lions, and so by now, this late in the day, there was simply nothing left to be found.

Lieutenant She'hekha changed this when he yanked his sword free of its scabbard and jammed its point into the sand, twisting it viciously and letting out a yell which made the other Kana's ears flick. They all grimaced atop their Sha but said nothing. Even Lieutenant Fa'rukha, who knew he didn't have anything to fear from the first lieutenant's wrath, kept silent, staring at him uneasily. He shuffled his wings a little.

It was rare that She'hekha ever lost his temper. Most Kana had never even seen it happen, had only heard about it secondhand. Fa'rukha supposed it came from all those years spent being tied and whipped. He had to guess that being tied down and beaten for three days would tend to make one learn the skill of patience, and if there was anything to be said of She'hekha, it was that he was patient.

The other thing to be said was that when he finally lost it, it was best to just keep out of his way.

Fa'rukha sat and watched the other Kana yank his sword loose of the ground, then start pacing across the sand, little plumes of it puffing up around him as he did so. They had been riding nonstop all day and night and into this day. Following the faint trail left behind by Lieutenant Djuta and the others after they'd fled the Yellow Sands Tribe. That trail was dead now, and with it, She'hekha lost his composure at last, stalking back and forth like an angry lion denied its kill. Fa'rukha stared at him warily while the rest of the men fidgeted. He'd never seen such bottomless hatred in his eyes before. Not even whenever they faced Lord Hakh'tas. For the first time, Fa'rukha felt a little bit afraid of his friend.

"Utterly foolish," She'hekha muttered, teeth bared and grinding. He clutched his sword as if he intended to behead everyone with it. "I cannot believe I was so utterly foolish to BELIEVE his word..."

Fa'rukha bit his lip but still said nothing. She'hekha kept pacing, now lifting his head to stare in the direction the trail had been going in; there was nothing but sand and rock and more sand, and the distant western cliffs. "The one time I put my common sense on hold and believe someone," She'hekha said, startling him, "and he does this to me." He halted, and jammed the sword into the ground again; everyone flinched. She'hekha twisted the blade, gouging a hole in the earth. He snarled and his tusks glinted, wings flaring.

"The moment I find him I will do such things to him that what happened to me will feel like PARADISE!"

The word PARADISE echoed sharply across the sand and Fa'rukha at last took the reins on his Sha, leading it forward. The rest of the Kana eyed him nervously but he ignored them. Even if She'hekha decided to take a swing at him, he'd been his trainer, so could fend him off. Probably. "They can't have gone too far," he said. "And you heard what he said. He isn't planning to kill Nehara."

"I heard everything ELSE he said as well!" She'hekha barked, wrenching his sword loose and staring into the desert as if he could see the trail they'd left. "Every damned word of it LIES! To think I trusted that Moru because of what he went through...I should have listened to my head...this is a mistake I will NOT make twice!" He jammed the sword back into its scabbard so hard that he sliced his palm open, but all that he did was lift his hand to his mouth and suck on it, his eyes still glowering hatefully. Fa'rukha made certain to pause again before climbing down from his Sha and moving closer to join him. They both stared at the desert.

"It is not your fault," the second lieutenant murmured. "It is my fault. I had the chance to stop him and I didn't take it. I let him pass. I hoped he would change his mind."

He tried not to grimace, the words were so bitter coming out. He saw She'hekha turn to look at him, disbelief in his eyes now, and he hated that look more than anything. However, it quickly faded into hatred again, and Fa'rukha fanned his wings, his unease returning. She'hekha turned back to the desert.

"He fooled you as well as me," he muttered. "He fooled all of us. You only let him pass because you believed him, too. Just as I did." His muzzle wrinkled and he took several steps forward. Fa'rukha sighed to himself. Ever since he'd promised to train the younger lieutenant--I want you to train me. Private lessons. After training hours. I want you to teach me how to fight--She'hekha had never disbelieved a word he'd said. It was the one blind spot of the first lieutenant's, the one irrational thing he refused to let go of. Fa'rukha was pretty certain that he could have claimed that he'd been in on Djuta's plot the entire time, and She'hekha would have still found a way to excuse him from any complicity, and blame it all squarely on Djuta, without batting an eye. He cringed to himself thinking of his oversight, how it had led to this, but She'hekha had apparently picked up on it differently, as the hatred in his eyes wasn't aimed at Fa'rukha. He pulled his sword loose and waved it at the air, his yell making everyone else jump, their Sha shying and snorting.

"YOU THINK YOU ARE HIDDEN? I WILL HUNT YOU DOWN LIKE THE RAT YOU ARE, MORU! BELIEVE ME!"

He whirled around again, once more shoving the sword back in place and stalking toward his Sha. Fa'rukha stepped out of his way and didn't meet his eyes as he passed, though he did flinch when She'hekha stretched his wing as he went by, the tip grazing Fa'rukha's arm. He rubbed at it as if he'd been cut, turning and mutely climbing back atop his Sha as She'hekha did the same. The rest of the Kana continued staring at them and biting their lips but wisely kept quiet.

"He fooled all of us," She'hekha repeated himself. "He is the only one responsible here. And if Nehara-Kana is not still alive when we find him, I will gut him and cut his head and wings off myself."

"Um...ah...Lord," Sergeant Tes'khi called out, raising one hand gingerly. She'hekha didn't look at him but his ear flicked as he picked up his Sha's reins; Fa'rukha looked back instead, with a frown. Tes'khi bit his lip and lowered his head a bit.

"Um...you are aware that Nehara-Kana trusted--um--trusts none of the captains as successors to his position," he said meekly. "That means...um...I rather believe that means that, should anything unfortunate befall him, then you would be general of the tribe! Yes--?"

Fa'rukha was grimacing even before the words were completely out. A second later, Tes'khi was screaming, Sergeant Kheten making a face and jerking his Sha away from him; a dagger protruded from the scrawny sergeant's forearm, blood dripping down around it. Fa'rukha turned back to She'hekha and saw him pull his hand away from his belt.

"Nehara-Kana is still general," he said, his voice again flat, composed. "And the next person who speaks as if he is not will get his throat slit."

He kicked his Sha in the flanks, and it squealed and started galloping. Fa'rukha nudged his to follow suit, and soon they were all racing across the sand, sending clouds of it floating up behind them. The second lieutenant carefully maneuvered his Sha to ride alongside She'hekha, giving the other Kana a pensive look.

"What do you plan to do, 'Hekha--?"

"Exactly as I said," She'hekha had to raise his voice over the noise of the Sha's hooves. "If Nehara-Kana is still alive then he decides what will become of him. If he is not, then as the Kana of highest rank, I decide."

"You truly intend to kill him--?"

She'hekha's muzzle wrinkled and his grip tightened on the reins; Fa'rukha fell silent.

"His death," She'hekha said, eyes glittering, "will be the least of his problems."

* * * * *

What looked to be a beautiful day was beginning in the River Tribe, not that Khetai noticed it.

She sat in the window of Captain Fe'kheru's rooms, staring out at the courtyard beyond, the water rippling in an early morning breeze and the scent of flowers filling the air. Behind her, the captain's room lay silent. Djefet was curled up on the cot that she'd taken to sharing with Khetai, though Khetai found this fact bittersweet by now, after what she'd learned of how the arrangement had come about. Fe'kheru and Ikhi'et still slept, the female snuggled against her master, but Khetai ignored them all. She stared at the pool and wished that she could go out and swim in it, but leaving this place unattended would mean that she would likely have to speak with him again. The other annoying captain. The one who'd convinced Djefet to pity her so much as to sleep with her. Khetai's eyes stung, but she bit her lip and forced the tears back. She was more infuriated and humiliated than anything. Djefet had said that she really did enjoy being there...but he was the one who had asked her. He was the one who had gotten involved where he shouldn't have...he was the one who had spoiled everything. Now every time Khetai looked at the other Moru, all that she could see was Khanef's face, hear Khanef's voice, hear her own voice in her head sniggering, She pities you, he pities you--they all pity you. You are pitiful. Pitiful and pathetic. Her claws gouged into her palm, but she didn't feel them.

A soft noise came from the room behind her but she still ignored it. She heard the by-now familiar sound of the bed creaking, and could imagine Fe'kheru or Ikhi'et sitting up and stretching. When she heard feet touch the floor, then a shuffling noise and the sound of sandals, she knew that it was the Kana, and she made herself relax, lowering her head and wings. She heard his footsteps cross the room to where she sat, then halt. His wings fanned the air.

"Whatever that was that you gave," he said quietly, and her ear pricked. "My wings somehow feel lighter. I have not been able to stretch them without it hurting, in so long that I no longer remember, now."

"A side effect," Khetai murmured, and she imagined him tilting his head inquisitively. "The plant which helped your heart," she explained, as simply as she could. "A side effect is the dulling of pains. It wears off, eventually...you will have to take more then. For your heart also."

She realized only too late that she'd yet again forgotten to address him as her master, and she made a face. "Well then," Fe'kheru mused aloud, "I guess I will just have to let you out to mix up more of that stuff." He fanned his wings again, then she heard him come closer and a moment later he was sitting down beside her. She blinked, feeling her face grow hot, and ducked her head; yet he didn't look at her. He stared at the courtyard as well, taking a deep breath and letting it out. He sighed.

"I had not noticed in ages either just how nice it smells in the mornings," he said softly. "I guess some things are easy to forget, when other things weigh more heavily on one's mind." He turned his head to look at her now, and furrowed his brow a bit. "Khetai-Moru...? What troubles you today? I don't believe I've ever seen you up so early as this."

"It...it is nothing, Lord," Khetai forced herself to say.

Fe'kheru frowned. "You may be good at medicine, but you are hardly a convincing liar." He drew his knee up and rested his arm upon it. "Does anything in these living arrangements trouble you? I could fetch you a proper bed, if you wish. Whatever you want you need only tell me, you're aware."

Khetai quickly shook her head. "This--this is not it, Lord, honest." Her ears grew warm. "It is just...I...I liked to walk about in the mornings, and swim in the pools, when I was able..."

"You do realize I grant you permission to do this, don't you? Just as long as you stay within the household, and this only for your own safety. You can go even into the kitchens and library if you wish."

"I know, Lord...and I thank you for it...it's just...well, I no longer feel quite so free since...well...since he started addressing me."

The Kana gave her a puzzled look. "'He'...?" he said at last, and she fought down a grimace, hating that she'd said so much. Moru were not supposed to complain about Kana, and she felt that she was already on very shaky ground here, in a tribe that was not her own. When she failed to respond, Fe'kheru frowned again. "Please tell me if someone is causing you trouble," he said, "and I will take care of it. Someone has been bothering you?"

"I don't wish to trouble you, Lord," Khetai said with a twinge of desperation. She wished that she'd stayed in bed, now.

"It is nonsense that you trouble me, considering what I've troubled you with so far. Please. If something is making you uncomfortable here, let me know what it is. You needn't live with it."

Khetai lowered her head and huddled her wings. "It...it is merely Lord Khanef," she said in such a small voice that the Kana cocked an ear, brow furrowing again.

"Khanef...?" he echoed, and his puzzled look grew. "He has been troubling you?"

"It's nothing, Lord," Khetai echoed herself.

Fe'kheru turned to look at the pool, rubbing at the back of his neck. "He has always been so goodnatured, before," he murmured as if perplexed. "I fail to see why he would be causing trouble now..."

"He--he isn't causing trouble, Lord," Khetai hastened to say, feeling doomed. When Fe'kheru looked at her she fought a grimace. "It is merely that he...he tends to...accost me in the hallways, and...try to speak to me all the time...and he will not stop talking...and he does it all the time..."

The more she said, the wider Fe'kheru's eyes grew, until she forced herself to stop and cringed, turning away and burrowing her head against her arms, feeling an odd mixture of anger and humiliation. "He speaks with you?" Fe'kheru asked. "This is the extent of what he does?"

"I know it sounds like little," Khetai mumbled against her arms. "But I wish to be left alone! I have nothing to say to him and I don't understand why he insists on talking to me! I'm just a Moru anyway, doesn't he have other Kana to talk to--?" She squirmed. "And I can't help but think that he has OTHER intentions! At least, when I called him on it, he didn't deny it!" She lifted her head and gave him an aggrieved look, momentarily forgetting who she was talking to. "And HE is the one who convinced Djefet to come and stay here! With me! What was his purpose in doing such a thing? In getting involved? When all I want is for him to leave me alone--?"

"Perhaps he assumed you were lonely," Fe'kheru said, so suddenly and so quietly that she tensed, her jaws clamping shut. Her ears burned and she wished that she could crawl back into her cot, and pretend that this morning had never happened; vivid images of the Kana pulling out a whip and beating her with it flew through her head, and she hid her face again.

"I am sorry for speaking out of place, Lord," she said, her voice muffled.

There was a pause, then she heard him shifting his wings. "No," he said. "I much prefer it when you speak plainly." Her muscles tensed, but beneath her arms her own brow furrowed. "There is anything else you wished to add?"

She shut her eyes. Her brain screamed at her not to answer, but her mouth disobeyed. "I just want him to leave me alone," she said, hating the almost whimpering tone of her voice. "That's all I want. I want him to go find some Kana to talk to, and let me be."

Another long pause. She grimaced to herself and tucked her wings close to her back. For a long time neither of them spoke, and all that she could hear were the sounds of his and Ikhi'et's and Djefet's breathing, and the ripple of the water, and far-off voices elsewhere in the household and the town. When her master at last spoke, he did so softly again, so that her ears quivered but he didn't startle her.

"He does seem to speak a bit more than he used to," he murmured. "There was a time when he was not quite so gregarious. I take it that it is merely because he has so few people left to talk to anymore. Our tribe is not what it once was, you are aware."

"Still," Khetai mumbled. "He could go find some other Kana to talk to. Meteri-Kana perhaps, or you."

"'Teri-Kana is rather young and involved in his own affairs," Fe'kheru replied. "And as for me, I am rather older than he is, and like yourself not much inclined to talk. If Yekh'ef-Kana were still here--he was 'Teri-Kana's father, and a good friend of mine--perhaps Khanef would have him to pass time with. He liked to talk. If he were not a captain, perhaps he would find a few of the lieutenants, and talk with them...but there is a wall that comes with being captain...and it forever separates us from the lieutenants. Khanef-Kana was made captain far too young if you ask me." He trailed off and Khetai heard him fan his wings.

"It is still all much better than talking to a Moru," she said stubbornly.

She heard him tuck his wings in. "Perhaps." He took a breath and let it out, as if smelling the air. "But I think Khanef-Kana has always preferred talking to Moru anyway." Khetai's eyes popped open as Khanef's voice echoed in her head--Well, I often find that Moru have interesting things to say. You would be surprised--or perhaps not. The Kana are boring. All we talk about is fighting and such. Moru, on the other hand, are much more interesting... "He used to spend hours talking to his mate," Fe'kheru added, and Khetai's head jerked up, her eyes going wide. "Though those times are past."

Khetai turned to look at him in disbelief. She blinked a few times, unable to speak at first. "He--" Her voice came out cracking, and she had to swallow. "He--has a mate--?" she blurted out. "He has a family--?"

"A mate and a pup," Fe'kheru replied, looking at her from the corner of his eye. He rested his arms on his knees, wings fanning. "Tahat, and little Neti'khet..." When he noticed her startled gape he looked out to the pool again. "They died of the illness. Some three or so years ago. He has not taken another mate, and Meteri tells me he has not even visited the Moru quarters, ever since."

Khetai let out her breath in a whoosh. She felt her insides sinking for some reason. "Why...why has he not taken another?" she asked, confused; it wasn't normal for Kana to not take another mate once the previous one had died. Khanef had hardly struck her as being sen'akha.

Fe'kheru lifted one shoulder. "I would tell you, if I knew. I believe he simply did not wish to replace her. Ikhi'et told me that even she attempted to catch his interest, when I was away, because I had been away from her for so very long--and I hardly blame her." Khetai glanced back at the great bed, the other Moru still sound asleep in it. "But he refused. Meteri said he spotted him dashing through the household some time back, and swears that he must have been having some sort of wonderful dream, judging by how quickly he plunged himself in the pool." His mouth twitched.

Khetai shrank in on herself. "But...what does this have to do with me? Why does he keep talking to me? I fully understand and expect it if he seeks me out as a mate--though I told him already I am not interested--why does he keep talking to me--?"

"From what I recall of him and Tahat, he would spend hours talking with her," Fe'kheru said. "Just the two of them. Yekh'ef-Kana and Sut'khut liked to tease him about how he preferred spending time with a Moru rather than with the men. But from what I could tell, Khanef-Kana did not care. I love my Ikhi' dearly...I do not know what I will do if I am ever to be parted from her...but I do not know how to explain it. I never saw a Kana quite as close to his Moru as Khanef was to Tahat. It was almost as if they were part of the same. As if, when she died, part of him died with her, and no other Moru can replace that."

Khetai stared at the rippling pool water, her eyes unseeing. Her heart had started to hurt when Fe'kheru had mentioned part of the same, as images of herself and her brother faded into her head, the times they spent after their parents were gone and before he had been wounded--the games they played together, the times they talked, the secrets they shared. How empty a part of her heart had felt, as if it were missing, since he'd been gone, and how it had never quite filled in again. Not even Djuta or Djefet had filled in that void.

"I feel somehow, from the look on your face, that you understand now," Fe'kheru said quietly. Khetai started and gasped a little when she felt his fingers on her face, and her ears grew hot when he turned her head to face him. Yet he merely gave her an appraising look before one of his ears flicked, and he let her go. She rubbed at her cheek as if she'd been stung. "Your eyes look somewhat like Tahat's," he added. "And Neti'khet's."

Khetai blushed furiously and lowered her head. They sat in silence for a while, the noises of the household picking up slightly and the sunlight growing stronger. When Ikhi'et stirred and started murmuring for her master, Fe'kheru rose and went to see to her, leaving Khetai by herself. She peered at the cot, but Djefet was still sound asleep, snoring softly, her head burrowed into the pillows. Khetai bit her lip and rubbed her claws together.

She didn't speak to any of them when she at last got to her feet, silently slipping out into the courtyard and away from the room. Fe'kheru did glance her way, but did nothing to stop her or call her back.

* * * * *

She discovered, again, just how desolate the old general's household was. Despite the early morning noises, there were few others to be found, and she preferred not to visit the Moru quarters again just now. She thought she spotted Lieutenant Meteri, far off, at least once, but decided not to bother him, as she felt a little uneasy after overhearing his conversation with Fe'kheru. She passed a dusty sergeant in black lappets, but he was short of breath, clasping a letter in his hand, and didn't even notice her as she passed him unchaperoned, his eyes scanning the doorways and hallways intently. Aside from that, and the occasional servant or two with food, the place seemed deserted. She started gnawing on her lip and wondering over the wisdom of this idea as she wandered further toward the back, fiddling with the sleeve of her dress. Go figure that the one time she would decide to seek the captain out, he appeared to be nowhere around.

A clattering noise made her jump and gasp, and she nearly ran into a column. She blinked furiously and found herself staring at another Kana who was busy stooping to retrieve something from the floor, cursing under his breath as he did so. A few more blinks showed her that he was dressed in white lappets, and she only kept staring at him, surprised. She'd heard from Djefet that the senior physician, like the old general, had died some time back. She recognized the symbols of the junior physician on this Kana's lappets as he bent and scooped up a medicine box and some scrolls that he'd dropped. He'd just been exiting what looked to be the library.

She continued looking at him as he muttered and brushed his lappets back, standing upright and stretching a cramp out of his back. The look on his face reminded her of the senior physician of the Great Red Tribe--and an old joke that she'd heard long ago, about the temperaments of all senior physicians, flitted through her head, nearly making her smile. The expression vanished before it could settle itself, however, when the Kana spotted her and blinked himself, brow then furrowing. He briefly looked her up and down, then grasped the scrolls tighter under his arm.

"What are you doing out?" he very nearly snapped. "Shouldn't you be chaperoned--?"

Khetai felt the flush creep up into her face. "Fe'kheru-Kana said I did not have to be as long as I stayed within the house!" she heard her own voice snapping back, as rudely as she'd ever spoken back to Djuta or anyone else--then her mouth fell open in horror. Had she really said that out loud--? The look on the physician's face told her that she had--and she again envisioned whips snapping at her back.

The junior physician gaped at her for a brief moment, then his own mouth closed and his eyes narrowed. "Oh," he said, somewhat skeptically; then the look on his face softened and he loosened his grip on the scrolls. "Oh." Khetai stared, perplexed, as the hostility faded from his eyes, though he did frown and look her up and down again. She forced herself to hold her place as he stepped around her, still looking her over, and his skeptical look returned, though not malicious like before.

"So you are the one," he said, doubtfully. "Not exactly what I pictured..."

Khetai slowly turned to face him again. He stared at her for a moment before giving a snort and turning away, starting to walk off down the hall. She gasped, then found herself hurrying after him for some reason, as if her life depended on it.

"I--you are the junior physician here--? Lord--?" she asked.

"Junior and senior, now," the Kana said shortly.

"I--I hoped maybe I could speak with you..."

"In case you haven't been able to tell, I'm quite busy. There are no other physicians in this household anymore!"

Was I always this sour? Khetai thought. I should have thanked that old physician...just for putting up with this...

"Actually, Lord...ah..."

"Nerre'mua." He halted before a door and attempted to unlatch it, fumbling with the scrolls again.

"...Lord Nerre'mua...I was actually looking for another Kana, but I can't seem to find him...Lord Khanef...?"

"Khanef-Kana is not within the household," Nerre'mua replied, promptly dropping a scroll. "Damn it!" He stooped to pick it up, and promptly dumped the rest of them. "DAMN IT!"

Khetai grimaced. She hurried forward and picked up a few that rolled away from him; he darted her a frown, but accepted them without complaint, and proceeded to unlatch the door. "He's gone, then--? But--I thought he lived here--"

"Khanef-Kana does live here. But at the moment he's out." He pushed the door open. "He tends to go down to the river every so often to think or some such nonsense. I take it that's where he's gone today. I was supposed to see him about his arm but he's not here. Typical."

"Arm...?" But Nerre'mua had already gone into his room and was busy dumping the scrolls on his table. Khetai peered in and saw even more scrolls littering his chairs and even his bed; judging by the plethora of oil lamps sitting on the table, and a half-eaten plate of food sitting beside them, she guessed that he'd been dozing there most of the time. She bit the inside of her mouth as she remembered countless hours she herself spent poring over library scrolls, familiarizing herself with every medicinal term she could find, just to pull off her disguise properly. It was a good thing her brother had taught her how to read. Nerre'mua slumped down in the chair and started rifling through the scrolls with a weary sigh, looking one over, pushing it aside, then opening another. Khetai knew that it was foolish but he hadn't closed the door, so she took a tentative step inside. He ignored her, even when she made her way to his table and looked down.

She frowned and bent down to look at one scroll. "The illness...?" Her head popped up anxiously. "There's been an outbreak--?"

"No, there hasn't," Nerre'mua retorted. "Not yet. But if there's going to be, I'd better have some idea what to do, hadn't I?" He finally looked up at her and rubbed at one eye; she finally noticed how tired he seemed. "Now what do you want--? When Fe'kheru-Kana gave you free rein I doubt that he meant the right to barge into others' rooms!"

"You're certain Khanef-Kana has left the city and gone to the river...?" Khetai asked.

Nerre'mua's frown grew and he gave a curt nod. "Yes! He doesn't like to frequent taverns if that's what you mean. I don't know when he'll be back. I have things to do."

Khetai sighed and her wings slumped. "Thank you then, Lord." She turned and started heading for the door.

"Don't tell me you plan on going out to see him," Nerre'mua said.

"Fe'kheru-Kana told me not to leave the household. He said for my own safety."

She heard the scrolls rustle. "He didn't say anything about you not being allowed to--?" the Kana asked, sounding surprised.

Khetai shook her head. "He said no such thing. Apologies for bothering you, Lord."

There was the sound of the chair scraping against the floor, then he said, "Hold on a moment."

Khetai halted, turning her head to look over her shoulder. She frowned when she saw the physician now busily digging through the boxes sitting on the shelf along the far wall. Several papyri fell to the floor but he ignored them, turning his attention to a chest sitting on a chair, then to a few more boxes sitting near the bed. "Damn stupid mess," he muttered, pulling out several charms and dumping them on the bed; Khetai flicked an ear, wondering if the bed ever saw any action aside from this. Nerre'mua wrinkled his muzzle. "Where in the Duat did I put the damned thing!" He shoved the boxes aside now and bent to look under the bed itself, yanking out another, smaller chest and pulling it open. Khetai gnawed on her lip and tried hard not to tap her foot as he rifled through that and at last seemed to find what he was looking for. "Gods...how the hell did it get way under here?" He pushed himself to his feet and came back toward her, dusting something off; Khetai frowned to see that it appeared to be a necklace. He gave it a critical look, turning it this way and that, before stopping and holding it out toward her.

"Go on," he said with a sour look.

Khetai's brow furrowed in confusion, but she reached out and gingerly took it. She brought it close and saw that it was a pendant that appeared to be made out of clay, the name Nahus carved into it. She stared at it stupidly, not quite comprehending, until she remembered hearing the name before.

"The general's seal," she said, surprised. She lifted her head to look at the Kana. "Why do you give me this--?"

Nerre'mua waved, looking irritated as he turned and started shoving his boxes back into place. "I don't have any need for it! I'm stuck in this house forever as it is, now." He crammed the chest back under the bed and set to work picking up the fallen scrolls. "That should get you out the gate and to the river. It doesn't really have any meaning anymore since Nahus-Kana is dead..." she saw a slight grimace flit across his face "...and you should still be careful going out in the street...but I think everybody out there is too concerned with other things to go after a Moru." His voice dropped to an unpleasant mutter as he stooped out of sight behind the table. "And there are far more than enough Moru for everybody here, now..."

Khetai stood holding the seal in her suddenly cold hand. "You're giving this to me?" she asked. "To see Khanef-Kana?"

He waved again, not even looking at her. "Go on! I have things to do." He began muttering anew. "Stupid damned library scrolls...never where you need them..."

Khetai stood in silence for a moment or two, then clasped the seal in her hand. She slipped it over her head and looked down at it resting against her chest, then took a step toward the table and riffled through the scrolls a little. She looked at a few, then pulled one out and set it in the space cleared next to one of the oil lamps. "This...this is a treatment written up two hundred years ago by Ti'hen-Kana," she said hesitantly. "He served as physician to a great general...it's not a cure, but it's the best treatise on the illness available." Nerre'mua stood up straight, turning to frown at her, and she quickly bobbed her head. "Thank you, Lord." She turned and hurriedly left the room, though she did dart one last glance behind her to see that the young Kana was now picking up the scroll in question and peering at it curiously. She found herself nearly jogging down the hall, and had to slow her step and take a breath and let it out before continuing. Her heart was hammering in her chest. She made a face. When had she become so skittish...?

When I learned just how little my life really means among the Kana. That's when I became so skittish...

She tried not to let her misery show on her face. She expected guards at every junction within the household, yet met none until she reached the entrance, and even then it was merely two sergeants. They barely looked at her as she went past, and she didn't even have to show them her seal. She frowned again--such negligence, in any other tribe, could lead to great trouble in more than one way--but as soon as she set foot in the street she remembered what Nerre'mua had just said. The River Tribe was practically a ghost tribe. Her own old tribe had seen to that. There must be so many ownerless Moru left here now that there would be no interest in yet another one among many.

Still, availability had never deterred Kana before, so she kept her eyes open and darted anxious glances from one side of the street to the other as she walked. There was more activity out here, but not much. The deserted state of many of the households--sand was gathering in the doorways of some, while others stood open and echoing to the breeze, their windows and entryways dark--unnerved her, and she rubbed at her arms even though it was growing warmer outside. Several times she saw Moru shepherding Sha along, or carrying jars or food, unchaperoned as she was; they wore no seals, but none of the few Kana within sight bothered them. Everyone's faces were gloomy, and no one even looked her way. She lowered her head and felt her anxiety melting, though her heart began to hurt again. The defeat of the enemy tribe had seemed like a good thing, perhaps even a sign sent from the gods, when it had happened. Now that she was on the other side...it seemed so useless, and pointless. Suddenly the preoccupation she had noticed in everyone else's eyes--Fe'kheru's, Meteri's, even Khanef's--made much more sense, and her step slowed so that she nearly had to drag her feet to move.

Her anxiety returned when she reached the gate, and she even started shaking a little when she had to face the guards at the doors. They were quietly talking with each other as there was nothing better to do, and both turned and looked right at her when she approached. She bit her lip and gingerly held up the seal, wishing that it was inscribed with Fe'kheru's name--or the name of anyone else alive--but it was just as Nerre'mua said, and the two turned away, reaching for the ropes and starting to pull on them. One of the doors creaked open just a bit, and Khetai hurried out; she glanced back, but they didn't bother shutting it after her. She let out her breath, then turned to look at the vast landscape of grass and sand and irrigation canals spreading out before her. To the east, the great river flowed sluggishly by, emerald green under the sun. Khetai stared at her surroundings in silence. She was practically free.

Instead of elation, she felt a weight settle in her chest, and turned to the river. She realized that she'd forgotten to ask Nerre'mua where exactly it was that Khanef liked to go, and this was a very big river. She bit off a sigh and started walking north anyway. The river branched not too far ahead, a small rivulet passing westward and forming a fork just north of the tribe, vanishing into a small green oasis at the edge of the desert. Khetai paused long enough to stare at this for a moment before heading for it. She knew that if she wanted to find someplace along the river to think, it would be in that direction.

She was gasping for breath by the time the palm trees and tall clumps of papyrus began to loom over her, and mentally cursed herself for letting herself fall so out of shape. She'd been so fit, she could sprint for ten minutes or more, and always beat her brother at races... Her face pinched when she remembered how long ago that was, and she sighed. She nudged some papyrus fronds aside and craned her neck. The trees grew thickly here, forming almost a tunnel over the rivulet, and she found herself longing to stay out here and think as well. Everything under the trees was so deep green and peaceful, the only noises those of birds and of the water swirling past, and even the air was now cool enough to dry her dress of sweat. She started picking her way along the soft bank, careful not to slip and fall, and halted when she at last made out a figure far ahead, right where the rivulet changed direction.

Captain Khanef sat atop a long-fallen tree, its branches gone and its trunk nearly petrified by wind and water. It projected out over the rivulet, but only partway, and he sat near the end of it, one leg tucked up beneath him and the other swirling in the water below. He stared across at the other bank almost vacantly, and if it hadn't been for the slow swing of his leg, she would have thought him a statue. The breeze ruffled his lappets but he didn't seem to notice. She saw again just how young he looked, compared to most other captains that she'd met. He couldn't have been too much older than herself.

She stared at him for a moment, then took a step forward. She froze when his head jerked up, unable to believe that he'd even noticed such a small movement in his preoccupied state--yet he apparently had--for he turned to look at her, and as soon as he saw her standing there staring at him, his eyes grew. Khetai held her place, fully expecting him to start yelling in irritation at this invasion of privacy.

Which was why it caught her so offguard when he blinked a few times, then started hastening to clamber off of the log. He even fell in the water when he lost his balance, nearly plunging under it, and Khetai grimaced. Khanef popped back upright and shook himself off, then began blinking at her again. "L--Lady Khetai!" he exclaimed, and she could tell that he was more surprised than anything else to see her there.

She couldn't stop fiddling her fingers. She tried to open her mouth but nothing came out; it was as if her throat were stuck. Khanef blinked at her for a brief moment, then took in a breath and splashed out of the water, onto the bank. "Oh," he said quickly, bobbing his head. "Fe'kheru-Kana must've let you out...? Don't worry. I was just going."

"Wait," Khetai said without thinking, and the Kana halted, giving her a puzzled look. Water dripped from his lappets but he didn't even seem to notice it; for some reason she had to bite the inside of her mouth to keep from laughing at him. Her insides felt like insects were buzzing around. "I...I actually came out to speak to you, Lord," she forced herself to say. She didn't think that she would ever get used to addressing others as a slave.

Khanef's brow furrowed and he lowered his foot. A strange look came to his face and he even peered off to the sides as if expecting to be set upon; again she suppressed a laugh at his expense and picked her way along the bank. He stood in the shallow water and watched her until she halted before the log, unsure of whether she should sit on it or not; Khanef stood still for a moment, then blinked, then hastened forward. "Here," he said, and dusted some moss from its surface. Khetai stepped over it and carefully sat down, keeping her dress in place; she expected him to sit down as well, since it was his log, yet he stayed standing as if not certain what to do next.

"Ah," he said after another moment, and rubbed at his neck. "Should I be going now...?" Khetai shook her head and he frowned. "Something's wrong back in the tribe--?" When she shook her head again he just looked confused. She peered up at him tentatively and saw how wary his eyes were, and mentally chastised herself.

Was I really so cruel to him? That he's afraid to speak to me now? I never meant to be that way...I just wanted to be left alone...

"I can find another spot to sit," Khanef offered. "You have Fe'kheru's permission--? I'm certain he wouldn't mind you visiting here. It's a big river; I'll just..."

"There's a reason why you come and sit here?" Khetai asked softly, looking at the log she sat upon.

Khanef blinked yet again, then looked at it as well. She saw the preoccupied look return to his eyes, just faintly. "No...not really," he said at last, and the look disappeared. He forced a smile which was almost convincing. "Just to clear my head." He started wading through the water again. "I'll just head on back, and leave you in peace..."

"Fe'kheru-Kana told me," Khetai murmured, and he slowed and stopped, looking at her with another puzzled frown. Khetai rubbed her thumbs together. "About Tahat. And Neti'khet." She peered at him from the corner of her eye and saw a new, very strange look come to his eyes; the light in them faded, and his wings lowered slightly; it was as if a heavy cloud settled around him, even though the sun was still shining. He looked older again, and weary, but that sadness was something she'd never seen in him before. She couldn't believe that he'd been hiding it so well for so long.

"Oh," he said, after a moment, then tried forcing a smile, then this faded, and he let out a breath, and didn't seem to quite know what to do next. He lifted a hand to rub at his head, and stared at the water. An awkward silence stretched out for what felt like forever; she was about ready to speak up, when his false smile returned, and a false light seemed to shine on him, and it was like she was looking at a pale copy of what he'd been when she'd first seen him.

"I'll have to have a talk with him about bringing everyone down, then!" he said, but when he opened his eyes and saw the way that Khetai stared back at him, the light dimmed, and he lowered his hand. He looked as if he wanted to try to cheer her up yet had nothing to say.

"He said that you liked to talk to them," Khetai added.

Khanef stared at her for several moments, then she saw his shoulders relax, but not in the same weary way as before; he seemed almost relieved this time, somehow. He started slowly sloshing back through the water, halting several paces away and absently rubbing the water from his lappet. His smile this time wasn't false, but was more rueful than anything.

"Sounds almost like you've been talking with Yekh'ef-Kana, too..."

Khetai bit her lip. "Would you sit, please...? Lord...?" she asked, and touched the log. Another puzzled frown; but after a pause he did so, turning and sitting down where he'd been before, only now with both feet in the water. They stared at the rivulet for a long while, and she could tell that her request was perplexing him, but he was too polite to say so.

"You would come here and talk...?" she asked, just to break the silence.

He peered at her somewhat uneasily, then relaxed a little again and nodded. "It's quiet here...no Kana poking at how silly it is to talk with a Moru all the time." His mouth twitched. "Not that that was ever much of a bother."

"What would you talk about?"

"Oh...nothing much." He fell silent and bit his lip, then spoke again when she didn't do so. "Simply things. I would tell her about the Kana...she would laugh at it...things such as that. Sometimes Kana need to talk to a Moru just to be reminded of how ridiculous they all are." He fell abruptly silent, as if he'd said too much of something.

There was a long pause. Khetai listened to the sound of the water. She'd liked to swim, when she was younger, but that had been ages ago. "It must have been good, to be able to talk freely," she murmured.

Khanef flared his wings. "It has its high and low points," he said, a bit of his earlier spirit returning. She tilted an ear on noticing it. "I admit I did most of the talking," he said, and his smile started to return, a bit foolish. "Because Moru don't tend to do much...and what they do do, is rather sensible, and hard to laugh at, not that I would have laughed at her stories had I even wanted to--but she was more than welcome to laugh at mine. The Kana are rather silly creatures--I realize it sounds odd for a Kana to say that, but it's true, don't you think?--based on what I've found out I think you might understand that feeling--albeit in not quite the same way as--" He cut off abruptly, putting a hand to his head and grimacing, letting out an awful sound. Khetai glanced at him in alarm--fearing a repeat of what had happened with Fe'kheru back in the Great Red Tribe--and flared her own wings.

"Lord--?" she blurted out.

Khanef ran his hand down his face, and she saw the look of disgust there. "I'm doing it again," he muttered, then gave her a slight reproachful smile. "I apologize...I realize you hardly need to sit and listen to me blithering."

Khetai blinked, then adamantly shook her head. "No, Lord--! Actually--actually that was why I came out here. I thought--I thought maybe it would be nice to talk..."

He lifted one eyebrow and she could tell that he'd seen right through her. "Even Tahat never claimed I went from dreadfully dull to engaging in one day," he said, and stood again. He tipped his head. "It's all right. I'm not offended. Don't worry; even she had to tell me to shut up, sometimes, and I realize not everybody likes to chatter." He started stepping toward the shore. "I have a few things to do, anyway..."

"I like talking," Khetai blurted out, making him halt again and give her an odd look. She found the words spilling out of her mouth before she could stop them, as if she needed to convince him of their truth. "I used to talk--all the time--with my brother," she said, and he frowned and turned back, head tilting slightly. "We were the same age," Khetai went on. "We would do almost everything together, when we could--after our parents died--I stayed with him and we talked all the time, way into the night...about all sorts of things...he taught me to read and write, and told me about the Kana, and about his duties--everything I knew about the Kana before I ran away, I learned from talking with him--he told me to take his name, and find safety with another tribe, just before he died...it was madness but he always looked out for me like that...I became a Kana that day...but I couldn't talk anymore. I had to be careful what I said, who I said it to--I couldn't go chattering all the time like I'd done before, because I might muss up my stories, and they would start to suspect me, and then I would be through--so I learned how to just keep quiet...and keep to myself...I thought I would go mad, for months, lying in my room safe yet with all these words jumbling around in my head and nobody to tell anything to...but I guess I finally got used to it...so much so that it's just...kind of difficult for me to speak up anymore, like that, and simply talk with people, because I keep wondering, will they find out who I really am?--will today be the day when I'm found out?--and then I keep remembering that they already know--but still--it seems like, every word I say will condemn me, or get me in trouble somehow, and so far it's mostly been true--so whenever I'm supposed to talk, I just feel mute--even though I feel like talking--it just seems safer and wiser not to--and so whenever I'm supposed to talk, I just can't help but feel that something bad will happen, and it's lonely but easier just keeping it all to myself after all this time because that's what I've been doing for years now--you know--?"

And then her jaws clamped shut, cutting off the stream, and she ground her teeth hard enough to hurt, feeling the heat rising in her face. Khanef was staring at her, eyes wide and mouth slightly open, as if she'd just stripped off her clothes and started screaming that she was Hathor herself. She ducked her head and tried not to squirm, jamming her hands between her knees and grimacing to herself. She at last sensed Khanef relaxing, and he turned fully around to look at her; the silence drew out for a long moment, before he sloshed back to the log and reseated himself. He took a breath, held it, then let it out.

"You saved me an entire mouthful," he said, and her head popped up, to see that he was smiling at her again, the same winning, foolish, young-Kana smile that she was used to. He rubbed at his neck as she furrowed her brow, then his wings relaxed and he let out another breath. His eyes seemed sad again but not in the heavy unbearable way of before.

"Lord...?" Khetai asked, confused.

Khanef turned to the river and stretched his wings. "When Tahat died--" He flinched as if stung by a wasp. "After she was gone...I had all of these words to say still, yet nobody to say them to anymore, because as you probably know, not all Kana like to talk that much...unless getting plastered in a bar or something...and I've never much cared for that, you realize?--well...even if you don't, I'm sure you still get it. This has never been the most outspoken household. Yekh'ef-Kana--he was a good friend to me--he was good for talking to, but captains are always busy with things, and him even more so because he was older than I and had a family to look after--Meteri-Kana, you know him, and his brother Hesi...he died in the war...it would have been wrong of me to take up all their time." A rueful smile. "And Fe'kheru-Kana was away a lot, and you know most of all how little he prefers to speak...and Sut'khut, well, he enjoyed talking as much as the next person, but he only ever seemed to have vile things to say, and he never made any secret of the fact that he felt I should have still been a lieutenant." His nostrils flared. "So there was really rather nobody to talk with...and even if there had been, you simply can't talk with a Kana as you do with a Moru...there were things I told Tahat...I would never repeat them to a Kana, not even Fe'kheru or Yekh'ef, and I trusted--trust--them with my life...there are just different things you can say to different people and all those things I used to say to Tahat, you just can't say them to Kana. So I rather had to keep them to myself, because even the other Moru in the Moru quarters weren't the same as Tahat--Djefet-Moru comes close, but even she isn't quite the same--Tahat had this spirit, and knowledge, to her--I realize it sounds silly, but it's true. Most Moru don't have that, but..." He finally trailed off a bit, and lifted one shoulder. "Well...I know it sounds utterly foolish, but your eyes made me think of her." He peered at her, his smile looking mildly embarrassed now. "Not so much the color of them--but the look in them. I remembered how Tahat and I would talk and I guess I forgot that I wasn't talking to her after all...especially when you pretty much told me to go screw myself..." Khetai cringed but Khanef seemed amused by her reaction. "That was exactly like something Tahat would have done," he went on. "And it was kind of hard keeping my mouth shut after that." Another shrug. "I guess I was so used to keeping it all in, yet I wanted to say it all all that time, and it just came out...I wasn't even aware how annoying I must have been to you, new to the tribe and afraid and everything, and here comes this strange Kana who insists on chattering with you...I must apologize for this, Lady, because it was terribly rude of me, and you would have been within your rights just knocking me in the head." His grin returned. "I think that would have cut me off, surely."

Khetai lowered her head to stare at the water. "I'm sorry I was so rude to you," she murmured, feeling guilty. Everything he'd just said sounded exactly like what she'd been feeling, but hadn't been able to pour out. "I just...I had some trouble with Kana in the last tribe, and assumed..."

"You are pretty," Khanef said, and her head shot up again. Her face grew hot when he shrugged at her. "You're surprised? But don't worry," he said quickly. "I'm probably the least dangerous Kana you could find," he said, as if boasting, and she had to bite her tongue. "Just ask Meteri...and Djefet..." He made a face. "And Ikhi'et...and Fe'kheru...and the Moru traders...and everybody left alive..."

Khetai heard an odd sound, and Khanef accordingly gave her a strange look. Her vision of him started to blur, and then she realized that she was fighting off a giggle; her eyes watered up and she pressed a hand to her mouth, shaking, knowing that if she let it out she would start laughing and crying both at once, and probably quite loudly at that. Khanef furrowed his brow, then his grin returned and he flared his wings.

"I made you laugh!" he exclaimed. "I can't remember when the last time was I made a female laugh! Well, at least, in the way that I intended her to..."

Khetai pulled her hand away and the odd sound came out at last, a weird strangled laughing-crying noise. To her relief, the tears trickled just a little bit before fading, and the sob that had been working its way up into her throat died away as well--she didn't know what she would have done had she started crying out here. She hiccupped instead and wiped her eyes.

"I tried a little to talk to Djefet-Moru...and Ikhi'et..." she managed to say, "but it just never felt right...I know they mean well, but they just never have anything that I feel like talking about...it's like being among the Kana spoiled me or something..."

Khanef leaned forward. "No! I understand. I couldn't speak with them either. They're good Moru. But Kana and Moru are different. Tahat understood that. I think you do, too."

Khetai sniffled and lowered her hands. "I feel atrocious for snapping at you like that though. It's just...you truly wouldn't believe all the things that happened before I came here...it seemed to go on forever..."

Khanef beamed. "Who is the expert at tales that go on forever--? I think you would be hard pressed to beat me at that."

"Maybe..." She rubbed her eye again. "Maybe I could go over it...perhaps at another time?" She cringed inside on saying it and seeing his smile begin to fade. "I didn't tell Fe'kheru-Kana I was leaving," she said, peering back in the direction of the tribe, not visible from here. "He might get worried..."

"Oh." Khanef looked behind them as well, then smiled at her again. "What would you think of us talking again?" he offered. "Maybe tomorrow or so? And you could tell me your awful story and we could see whose eyes would glaze over first?"

If any other Kana had said it, she would have felt inclined to bite him or claw him. The look on his face was so open and hopeful, however--and friendly--that she felt a bit of the hardness around her heart melt a little, and gave a tentative smile in return. "I think...I think I would like that, Lord."

Khanef grinned from ear to ear. "Good! Perhaps a day or so of this, and you won't cave in from keeping mum, and I won't deluge everybody in babbling anymore! It's a win for everyone around." He stood up and offered her his arm; blushing, she took hold and let him help her over the log. They sloshed to the bank and stepped out, shaking off their feet and starting to make their way back toward the tribe. "By the way," he said as they went, "you needn't call me 'Lord' all the time...Khanef is perfectly all right, or even 'blithering Kana'--as Tahat liked to call me--though you might want to wait until you know me a little better before using that one!"

Khetai couldn't stop the smile that pulled at her mouth on hearing that, so she covered it up instead. "I...I'm kind of used to using titles, Lord..."

"Not to worry," Khanef replied. "I can break you of that habit! In no time I'll be calling you Lady Khetai, and you'll be calling me Blithering Kana." He paused thoughtfully. "Or perhaps Lord Blither. Would that be a good compromise?"

Khetai started laughing again, trying to stifle it with her hand. Khanef's wings flared and his tail flicked; she found that she liked that he seemed so pleased. "Even your laugh is pretty! See what I was up against--?" he said, then halted abruptly and grasped at her arm a bit tightly. Khetai's laugh cut off and she gasped, jerking back from him, the old fear darting up in her breast again. But Khanef wasn't even looking at her now. He was staring further ahead at the river. After a brief moment he turned to her, putting a finger to his mouth, all humor gone from his eyes. Khetai's brow furrowed; when he saw her confusion he stepped slightly aside, and she peered out of the papyrus to see what he'd been looking at.

A Kana was sitting in the reeds further ahead, staring at the water, head resting on his arms. His blue lappets were all that Khetai could clearly make out.

She frowned, then felt Khanef carefully steering her slightly westward and away from the river. She cast him a questioning look but he just shook his head and made the shushing gesture again. They walked out into the irrigation field until the Kana was out of sight, then the captain's tensed posture relaxed somewhat, and he let go his tight grasp on her arm. Khetai rubbed at it without thinking.

"Apologies," Khanef said quietly, and he sounded sincere. "But I thought it'd be best if we didn't bother him."

"Who was he?" Khetai asked.

"Lieutenant Pai'akhen." When she just stared at him he bit his lip. "That's right...you don't know him." He paused, glanced toward the river, then looked ahead again. "He's Sut'khut-Kana's son."

Khetai blinked. She too glanced in the direction of the river, but the other Kana was lost from sight, and the two of them remained in silence as they made their way back to the River Tribe.

* * * * *

He weaved along the street, stumbling, nearly tripping over his own foot, and running into the tavern wall instead. He shook his head dizzily, spotted the alley, made a foggy-minded decision, and turned to step into it instead.

Sleeping in an alley wouldn't be so bad...just for one night...at least one wouldn't get trampled by a Sha...

He managed three steps before collapsing, his chin striking the ground. He lay there for a moment, blinking and distracted, before putting out his hands and trying to push himself upright. He barely managed movement, and then only to lift his head a little. It promptly fell back to the ground and he let out a breath, seeing a little plume of dust go puffing out before him, sprinkling in the puddle just a finger's breadth or two from his nose. His eyes began to glaze over.

He tensed a little when something pressed upon his back, and he thought that he flapped his wings, but he couldn't see their shadows or feel the breeze and so wondered if he even did. It felt like a knee digging into his spine. After a moment it let up, and then footfalls came right beside his head--he opened his eyes again to see sandaled feet before him, before something grasped onto his arms and started dragging him forward. He splashed in the puddle, smelling urine, but by now the alley and everything else swirled around him so much that he barely even noticed or cared.

It's nothing worse than what happened under the seating at the battle...

He was abruptly let go, not even bothering to flinch when his head jarred against the hard ground--he didn't even feel it. His head swam and he tried to focus on something but everything was too blurry. Had this really all come from just a few little drinks? He'd always held them so well before--Khesa loved to joke about how one day he would end up sucking his tavern dry, and would then have to move on to another tavern if he wished to get drunk. So why did his head feel like it was floating in murky river water...?

He did feel it, somehow, when something grasped his kilt and pulled it up--and he could feel his loincloth being yanked loose and tossed aside. When fingers slipped between his legs and pulled them apart, he dragged his eyes open, but didn't even think to try speaking. Odd half-formed thoughts bobbed in his head like pieces of wood on the river.

Why did he drag me way out here...?

The tavern has a back room, doesn't it?

Why did he slip me something?

Why didn't he just ask...?

His eyes slowly went shut even as he felt someone thrusting into him, their breath coming harsh and heavy just over his head. The smell of musk reeked in his nostrils, and the faint sounds of laughter came from the street; when he cracked an eye open he saw several sergeants pass by, staggering as they walked; he'd been drinking with them not long before. They didn't look in his direction; he didn't call out to them. For the first time he realized just how alone he was, even in a crowded barracks room; he knew all his men's names, birthdates, fathers' names, weapons of choice, talents, weaknesses, favorite beers, which of Khesa's daughters they preferred, or if they even preferred each other...but aside from that...he didn't know them at all.

If I did call one of them now, would they even look at me...?

His chin scraped the rough floor of the alley. In the puddle before him, he caught a hint of the reflection of the one atop him, the other Kana's legs hugging his hips, his claws digging into his upper arms as he thrust, his fur scratching against his backside. Lappets dangled, long and dark...black or blue?...they looked black, but he couldn't think of what sergeant in their right mind would drag a barracks lieutenant into an alley just for this reason.

He could have just asked...

He felt the Kana's weight shift so he bent forward--his muzzle was visible now in the puddle, but he couldn't see his eyes, nor read the name or markings on the lappets. When he spoke, his voice a harsh whisper, he tensed again a little. It was as if his mind had just been opened up and exposed for everyone to see.

"I asked you...over and over...and you didn't even listen...you just turned me away...this is what you get for not bothering to listen to me..."

His brow furrowed just slightly. He'd asked--? When had he asked? He forced his mind to think back to the tavern, the beer, everyone he'd seen within, and he couldn't remember anyone asking him for nesakh'ai whatsoever...so what was this about...?

He thought that he opened his mouth, and tried to speak, but his tongue was numb and his jaws weren't working. His wings sagged and he felt himself starting to lose consciousness. He didn't even enjoy the feeling of the Kana within him, though at any other time he would have. The claws dug deeper into his arms, a gasp escaping the other Kana, drawing out into a moaned word.

"T...T...Tefkha..."

His eyes opened once more.

He knows me?

I know him--?

The voice seemed familiar now--but that was the last he heard of it.

The Kana let out a groan, clenching his arms and jerking heavily against him. His hips quivered, and a wet warmth spread throughout his insides, a familiar feeling, yet strangely foreign to him, now. He stared at the dirty alleyway without moving but for the soft breath escaping his nostrils, and wondered why he hadn't even been asked. He felt the hardness inside him die away, heard the Kana let out a disgusted-sounding grunt, and then lift himself, pulling out--then oddly enough--something he'd forgotten--

He felt a hand grasp hold of his lappet and yank on it, dragging his head to the side. The voice came once more but by now it was just a harsh whisper which he knew he would never recognize elsewhere.

"I hope you enjoy these, and deserved them, like some other Kana..."

Then it was let go, and his head fell. The dull shuffling sound of someone walking came to his ears, and he saw a vague shadow slump against the wall, fumbling with its kilt; a moment later, a stream of urine was splashing against the wall, some of it striking his face. As the Kana turned and took a step back in his direction, he opened his eyes wide enough to clearly see him shaking himself off, and reaching to clumsily tie his loincloth back on, his limp shaft retreating into its sheath--but for some reason he couldn't drag his eyes up high enough to see a face. The Kana didn't pay any further attention to him. He heard heavy footfalls move right past him, and watched the Kana make his way out of the alley and off into the street. Silence settled over the little alley, untouched by the noise outside, and a chill started settling over his skin. He could feel the cooling air against his legs--at least his kilt had fallen back down into place--but the dampness of the alley was seeping into him, and he felt like shivering, if only he could gather up the strength with which to do so. His eyes drifted shut once more, his head fogging over into darkness.

He said that he'd asked me...

Why didn't he ask...?

The consuming darkness didn't bother to answer him...

Lieutenant Tefkha's eyes flew open, a gasp sucking all the air from his lungs. He shot upright and blinked at the darkness, glancing around himself wildly. The alley faded from his mind in an instant--he was staring at a room now--and he had to keep staring at it for several moments, confused beyond belief. His mouth opened and closed a few times and his ears flicked.

Where...where in the Duat am I...?

He moved his leg to stand up and only then realized that he was lying on a bed, atop the sheets; he looked down at it, but it wasn't his bed. His confusion only grew as he got to his feet and looked at the belongings in the room. A few boxes, a few weapons; it was unusually spare in here. Tefkha might not have cared any for decor, but even his room had more furnishings than this. He took a step toward one of the boxes, paused, then stooped over to look at it. Inscriptions on it listed it as belonging to the house of Djetef, and his face screwed up. The first Kana who came to his mind was Resikh, then Djuta, and he lifted a hand to rub at his throbbing head.

What in the Duat am I doing HERE...?

He nudged the box aside and peered down at the one beside it. House of Id'e, it said, simply; frowning, he reached down and gently lifted the lid. There were a few small knickknacks and belongings in here, the sort of things a little boy might proudly own--a slingshot, a ball, a toy bow. Tefkha's frown deepened when he saw that they were all broken, even the ball gouged open, its stuffings falling out. A little papyrus scroll was wedged in the bottom, somewhat tattered; he reached in to pull it out. Be'shen, it read on the outside. Tefkha bit his lip, then gently pulled it open. The ink markings inside were smeared, but he could make out a brief message: Come back to my house. You will regret this if you do not obey me.

A soft noise came from the direction of the balcony and he gasped and jumped, dropping the scroll back in its box so abruptly that the lid snapped shut, and whirled around. A Kana was standing in the opening out to the courtyard, looking back at him. Tefkha had to blink a few more times to adjust his eyes to the dimness, and as soon as he saw who it was, it cleared up one question, but merely opened another in its place.

Lieutenant Be'shen stood rubbing at his ears with a towel and frowning at him. "Well, it's about time you woke up. I'm starting to think I shouldn't have slipped you that powder...I had no idea it would mess you up this badly..."

Powder--? Tefkha thought foggily, at first thinking of the drink in the bar--then the beer which Be'shen had given him, seemingly so long ago now, came back to mind, and he let out his breath. His eyes then grew when he saw that the other lieutenant was dressed in nothing but a wet loincloth, and he couldn't stop staring at him.

Be'shen was about his size, but built a little more sturdily, not quite as slender as Tefkha was. That wasn't to say that he looked out of shape; far from it. Tefkha hadn't seen such toned muscles on a Kana in a long while, not even in the barracks. He looked as if he must train every day, which made no sense, as he didn't seem to be a career lieutenant, and he certainly didn't frequent the barracks areas. His fur was a rich golden brown, his eyes bright golden-amber...but it wasn't any of this that Tefkha stared at. He stared at Be'shen's loincloth with his mouth hanging slightly open. Be'shen's fur was wet and he glistened in the dim light cast off of the pool; his tail flicked a few times, then he let out a coughing noise. Tefkha sucked in a breath and jerked his head, looking in his eyes. Be'shen frowned at him.

"Is your mind wandering?" he said, barely a question, before stepping into the room, still rubbing at his head. As he passed he began drying off his arms. Tefkha followed his progress, his stare drifting to the other Kana's behind as he stopped at one of the boxes to open it up and poke around for clothes.

"Did...did you drag me in here?" Tefkha asked, his confusion fading into perplexity. He rubbed his aching head. "Did you give me MORE of that horrid stuff...?"

"I don't even need to," Be'shen replied, pulling out a kilt and another loincloth. "You seem to be doing fine on that one dose I gave you!" He closed the box and unfolded the fresh clothes. "And yes, I dragged you back in here. You were hardly walking on your own, in case you forgot."

"What did I even do?" Tefkha asked, wincing.

Be'shen rolled his eyes. "What you always do. Pissed and moaned, then threw up, then keeled over. I know I'll hate saying it, but I rather wish that stuff would just wear off." He gave him an odd look. "At least when you were drunk you weren't puking all over everything!"

Tefkha felt his ears grow warm. "Well, I never said you had to babysit me! What in the Duat am I even doing here anyway--? Why did you drag me in?"

"We were training," Be'shen said wearily. "At least, we were supposed to be...are you truly that bored of training?"

Tefkha blinked. His memory suddenly returned--they'd been swinging their swords at each other for what felt like the hundredth time, in the courtyard, before a wave of nausea had washed over him and... But that felt like ages ago. He squinted at the bed and the courtyard beyond, rubbing at his head uneasily.

Be'shen frowned. "You truly forget things now?" When Tefkha didn't answer, he picked up his loincloth. "I'm glad then I got to you when I did."

Tefkha lifted his head to look at him. Be'shen untied and disposed of his wet loincloth and started tying on the dry one, right within sight of him--Tefkha's eyes grew as round as moons as he watched the other Kana re-dress himself, wrapping the kilt around his hips and securing it in front. When Be'shen lifted his head to look at him again, he felt the heat seep up into his ears, but his throat was stuck. "I honestly feel that if you had another beer your head would turn to mush," the other lieutenant said, then turned away and shoved the box back toward the wall.

Tefkha's throat worked but he couldn't get any words to come out. When Be'shen turned around once more he gave him a very odd look indeed, tilting his head. "Are you going to throw up again?" he asked. "The bedsheet has more color than your face right now!" He glanced at a bowl sitting nearby.

Tefkha snapped his mouth shut. "No!" he barked, his voice a little too high pitched, and he grimaced. "I just had a dream is all!"

"Dream--?" Tefkha flinched at the curious note in Be'shen's voice. The Kana stared at him for a moment before lifting his head a little in what might have been a nod. "A nightmare, I suppose."

"I do not have nightmares," Tefkha retorted. "I never have and I have no reason to start."

"That tale you told me not that long ago sounds like good enough reason for a nightmare or two."

"Well, it isn't. In fact I barely even think about it."

"You don't?" Be'shen's frown returned. "I would think about it."

"You're not me, thank the gods."

"Perhaps I should have let you keep sleeping," Be'shen said, mouth twitching. "You seem to be in a pissy mood tonight."

For some reason, the smells of the alleyway came back into Tefkha's mind, and his nostrils flared. Without thinking he reached up to grasp onto his lappet as if afraid of it falling off. Be'shen saw the odd reaction, and his smile faded; he stared at the barracks lieutenant for a little while, but said nothing, which was just as well, considering that Tefkha had just lost his voice. The silence drew out for a moment or two before he stepped toward him, stopping a pace or two away. He gave Tefkha a look which was neither sarcastic nor irritated.

"I don't care if you don't wish to tell about things," he said quietly. "But if you do wish to tell, and you keep yourself from doing so, then I'll knock you upside the head."

Tefkha blinked again. The look in Be'shen's eyes was dead serious. Tefkha felt his heart start hammering behind his breastbone, and it seemed as if his breath fled him; he stared at the other lieutenant for a moment before feeling the muscles in his ankle working, pushing his foot, propelling him forward. In two paces he was directly in front of him, and Be'shen had just enough time to blink before their muzzles were meeting, Tefkha grasping his arms and darting his tongue inside his mouth.

He heard Be'shen snort and felt him tense against him, his own hands rising to grasp Tefkha's arms, the claws digging in. Tefkha bit and sucked at his mouth, tasting him, smelling him; he let go of one arm to run his claws down the other Kana's breast. When he pulled away from his mouth and nuzzled at his ear, he heard Be'shen's voice, nothing more than a hoarse whisper.

"What are you doing--?"

Tefkha mouthed his ear, sucking on the earring. "This is what you brought me here for, isn't it--?" he panted, his hand sliding to Be'shen's back. He reached down to stroke his hip. Be'shen took a small step back and put out his own hand, just briefly, feeling at Tefkha's kilt. Tefkha stiffened and bit off a moan, reaching out for him.

Be'shen's knee slammed into his crotch, and Tefkha's lungs felt as if they'd just turned inside-out. His eyes goggled and his wings flared wildly as he grabbed at himself, bending forward. Tears flooded into his eyes and he had to blink to make out the other Kana as he took a step back, the gap forming between them again; the look on his face was oddly bland, yet there was a disgusted-looking flare to his nostrils. He put a hand on his hip as if this had been the most expected thing in the world.

"Wh..." Tefkha struggled to speak. "What...in the...hell...?!"

Be'shen maintained his bland look for exactly two more seconds before it evaporated. His muzzle wrinkled and his eyes glittered. "You think I dragged you back here so we could hump each other? Is that really all you do with your damned time? I have better things to do than drag you to my bed for THAT!"

Tefkha bared his teeth in disbelief. His eyes started streaming, but he tried hard to stand upright again, whimpering and keeping his hands clamped over his crotch. It was swelling there, but not for any good reason. He heard Be'shen snort and turn away, striding to the other side of the room; he returned a moment later with the bowl, and swung it at him. Cold water splashed against Tefkha's kilt and he yelped this time, leaping back and stumbling against the bed. He caught hold of the drapes and managed to catch himself before he could fall over, but all that he could do then was just stay there, half-standing, half-hanging, shaking and wet and pained and bewildered beyond belief.

"What--what in the Duat was all that about?!" he cried, voice cracking. He dragged himself back upright before Be'shen could speak, and this time bared his teeth in fury. "You stupid arrogant ASSHOLE! You come walking in all wet and practically naked and then strip right in front of me and then JAM YOUR KNEE INTO MY COCK?!"

Be'shen's muzzle wrinkled again. "I can't help it that you're so used to humping anything that MOVES that you think me CHANGING MY CLOTHES is some sort of invitation to nesakh'ai! Gods know how the hell you stand it in the barracks! Do you go at it with all your trainees whenever THEY drop their drawers, too--?"

Tefkha felt a stab of hurt in his breast. He clenched his fists. "I'VE NEVER HAD NESAKH'AI WITH ANY OF THEM, ASS!!"

Be'shen snorted. "Well that's promising! Maybe I'll be able to change in the comfort of my own room without having to ward YOU off again!"

Tefkha gawked at him for a brief moment, mouth hanging open, before he felt his eyes sting again--his jaws clamped shut hard enough to hurt and he yanked on the drapes to pull himself upright, whirling away and storming back out toward the courtyard. He wished they were in his own house right now, but they weren't, so he couldn't exactly leave, not without passing right by Be'shen again, or without wandering throughout half of the house in the hopes of finding the front door. Humiliated, and with a terrible headache coming on, he sat down at the edge of the pool and stared across it, fuming silently. Even Resikh had been better company, and until now, he hadn't thought that anyone could be worse company than Resikh.

The silence drew out for so long that his ears began to ring. When he finally heard footsteps coming closer, he ground his teeth again--half of him had wanted to be followed, yet half wanted to be left alone--and sat as still as he could, keeping a defensive posture. When Be'shen drew up beside him he wanted to reach out and knock him into the water--it was the least that he deserved--yet refrained; he had no clue how accommodating Lord Djetef might be of such things. Be'shen sat down beside him and started staring into space just as he was doing; this irritated him all the more, yet he said nothing, hoping that his silence said more than enough.

"Has it honestly come to the point that if a Kana merely says hello, or how is the weather, or what are you doing tonight, you think he's going to spend the night in your bed, or vice-versa?" Be'shen said after a few moments.

Tefkha's muzzle wrinkled. "I don't talk to assholes!" Be'shen turned to look right at him, and stayed that way, staring as if he were a statue; Tefkha had to fight not to squirm. He hated being stared at. "KNOCK IT OFF!" he yelled when he couldn't stand it anymore.

"I asked you a sincere question," Be'shen said.

"And I gave you my sincere answer!" Tefkha turned to him now, his look unpleasant. "Where I come from it's hardly good form to drag somebody over to your place, spar a bit, then strip right in front of him! What in the Duat did you think that meant? Such a thing is normal in barracks or in camp but this is hardly either! And you knee me in the crotch for such a thing? Perhaps your father should have whipped your tail a little bit, then you would have learned proper manners in front of guests--or WHATEVER the hell I am!"

Be'shen flinched a little bit, then his face returned to normal. "All right, then," he said. "I'll keep that in mind. But you still didn't answer my question. Is that honestly all you expected from me? That I dragged you here, clashed swords a little, and then planned that? Because I've sparred with Resikh-Kana and Djuta-Kana before, and others, and none of them ever propositioned me afterwards."

"Perhaps you're not their type," Tefkha said peevishly.

Be'shen got a very odd look now. "I'm your 'type'--?"

"Just forget it, all right?" the barracks lieutenant snapped. "You already hit me hard enough to put me permanently out of the mood for a month or so! Just so you don't have to worry that I'll TRY anything again!"

"Like someone did with you--?"

Tefkha whirled to him again, but the look on the other lieutenant's face had changed already; he was almost grimacing. "I'm sorry," he said. "I shouldn't have said that."

Tefkha stared at him for a moment or two, then his tensed muscles relaxed a little and he turned back to the pool, scowling. He folded his arms over his knees, wincing a little at the throb between his legs. "But my question still stands," Be'shen said. "You honestly think this is all anyone expects of you now? If someone offers you friendship, do you instantly think in whose bed, and for how long, and when you will get up and leave in the morning?"

"I do not want any more friends," Tefkha muttered. "I already have enough!"

"You mean your trainees, whom you hang out with in the taverns--?"

"Everyone knows it's foolish to fraternize too much with trainees! You know very well who I mean."

"I do not visit taverns," Be'shen said. "But I speak with the other lieutenants from time to time. You mean you are friends with them?" He paused. "Nehef-Kana likes to visit the taverns; he's spoken of seeing you there but never as if the two of you hung out much."

"Nehef-Kana is not my friend. Stick your nose in someone else's business! Why are you pestering me?"

"Ahai'ikh-Kana doesn't like the taverns much either," Be'shen said. "Nor Hiath'ikh...nor Resikh or Djuta. And I know already how little you care for either of them. In fact, lately, you've been spending most of your offtime here sparring with me." He frowned. "And you haven't complained of missing anybody. Who do you go to the taverns to meet?"

Tefkha leaned forward to place his chin upon his forearms and refused to answer. Mainly because he didn't feel like giving the other Kana the satisfaction, but now that he thought of it--

Who DO I hang out with...? Sure, I speak with everybody there...a little...we buy drinks...but is there anyone I always sit by and talk with for more than a moment or two...?

Do I ever talk to any of them much outside the taverns...?

He gnawed the inside of his mouth pensively. He'd never realized until now...just how alone he truly was, even in the company of everyone else. Certainly, he enjoyed the times he spent in Khesa's, but as for who he spent them with, none of them were ever anybody he felt like talking to or calling upon at any other time...

His thoughts distracted him so much that he nearly forgot where he was, until Be'shen shifted a wing, likely on purpose. Tefkha blinked and the fog cleared from his head so he hunched his wings in a bit. Be'shen stared at him for a moment more before turning away, and they sat in silence for a moment.

"I take it you never feel like being with any of them outside of a few drinks under a tavern roof, or in their bed for a few hours," he said.

"I do not want any more friends," Tefkha echoed himself.

"Perhaps it's not a matter of what you want, Brother, but of what you need."

Tefkha blinked again on hearing the word Brother. Be'shen had called him that before, and it had sparked the same reaction in him.

Be'shen, what you said...when you called me "Brother." Do you really feel that way? Do you really consider me your brother?

When you think about it we are all brothers, are we not?

But we do not all call each other thus. "Brother" is reserved only for siblings and the closest of comrades, and for...

Well, as much as we are all comrades, you and I are not very close ones yet...

Tefkha lifted a hand to rub at his eyes, seeing for the first time how it shook. He rubbed them anyway, then drew his hand back to stare at it. No wonder he kept losing his sword, with a tremor like that. He flexed his fingers and stretched them again, furrowing his brow.

"It goes away," Be'shen said quietly. "In time."

Tefkha curled his fingers in and lowered his fist. "Why me?" he murmured into his arms when he lowered his head again. Be'shen looked at him; his voice came out dull and apathetic. "Why are you bothering me?"

The other Kana stared at him for a while before turning away once more. "For a selfish reason," he replied. "I saw a good Kana, and I wished to help him out. Before it was too late."

Tefkha winced and rubbed at his head. "And how is this selfish?"

"I failed to help another good Kana long ago. And now it is too late." He fanned his wings. "I told myself I would not make that mistake again, if I could help it."

"So you spar with me because of a guilty conscience--?" Tefkha lifted his head. "Don't feel obligated to relieve your debt on my behalf, Brother. You said you were looking for a good Kana. I think you picked poorly."

"No," Be'shen said, without any hesitation. "I know I picked well." Before Tefkha could argue, he was pushing himself to his feet. "I am going to get some grapes," he announced, and turned to walk back into the room. Tefkha furrowed his brow and looked after him. He found himself staring at Be'shen's backside, and had to mentally curse himself before getting up, swaying a bit and trudging after him.

"Why grapes--?" he blurted out.

Be'shen picked up the empty waterbowl as he went, glancing over his shoulder. "Because you need a drink." When Tefkha's eyes started to grow, the other Kana's mouth twitched. "Unfermented." He turned away again. "I don't need you puking again, Brother."

Tefkha made an awful face and put a hand to his stomach; it felt just as bad as his groin did now. Even as he thought of how much he would have loved a beer right now, he thought of how much he would have hated one, and this was enough to convince him to sit down before he could get sick all over again. "And so what all are you expecting of me?" he called out as Be'shen opened the door. "Spar with me, train me, get me fit to be a proper barracks lieutenant again--? And call me 'friend'? Because it seems like an immense waste of time to take me off my drink, call me 'friend,' and then shuttle me back off to the barracks! Gods know you could have chosen a more useful goal."

Be'shen halted in the doorway and turned to look back at him. Tefkha pretended to be too absorbed in rubbing at his aching stomach to notice. He did see, however, the little line that formed between Be'shen's eyebrows, and the downturn of his mouth.

"Is that honestly all you expected from me...?" Be'shen asked softly.

Tefkha's ears flared. His head popped up and he quickly glanced toward the doorway...but Be'shen had already turned away and stepped outside, the door going slowly shut behind him.

Continued...


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