Part 49: Confrontation

Note: This item has been rewritten and edited. All text in rose is BRAND NEW MATERIAL for this chapter of the story. In addition there are many minor changes to the original text itself. Please enjoy this new, expanded version of Part 49 and be on the lookout for updates to the next parts!


EVERYONE KNEW BETTER than to wander too near the south courtyard so early in the morning or so late in the evening. It had lately been taken over, without notice, and so no one bothered going to check out the cause of the noises that were frequently heard issuing from out near the pool at such hours. No one else wished to be a part of the activities that kept the two parties so busy for such a good part of the morning and evening, and so everyone else knew to keep to the other courtyards, and to not question why someone Captain Tas'hukh's age was apparently sparring with someone Private Ri'hus's age, nor why they insisted on doing so in Mahakhi's courtyard. Stranger things had happened.

This evening was no exception. Tas'hukh swung his sword repeatedly, and repeatedly Ri'hus attempted to block his blows, occasionally getting in a few of his own, though more often than not stumbling and dodging him in a near-panic. Tas'hukh bit back his frustration as he swung, not putting as much force into the blows as he could have. Ri'hus cringed every time he blocked the captain's sword, and if the older Kana hadn't known any better he would have thought he was sword-shy. He sighed as they stepped around the courtyard, he swinging and Ri'hus dodging, their swords making an awful racket.

"Private," he had to call out over the noise, "you will have to stop ducking about and face me, sometime! You are good enough at avoiding being hit, but that is only half of what goes into learning how to fight!"

"I--I apologize, Lord," Ri'hus stammered, cringing and blocking another attack. "But--I cannot swing my sword fast enough--!"

"This is what we have been trying to learn, isn't it--? An enemy will not be so forgiving, but I promise not to take your head. You can feel free to swing at me whenever you choose! Remember that this is sparring, and I know enough not to get you killed!"

Ri'hus's response was to continue dodging his blows, whimpering as they made their way around the pool. He did attempt once, vainly, to knock the sword out of Tas'hukh's hands, but as soon as he ducked back Tas'hukh swung at him, and his own sword flew from his grasp and splashed into the pool. They both stumbled to a halt and stared at the rippling water in some surprise, Ri'hus rubbing at his arms and Tas'hukh furrowing his brow.

Ri'hus finally peered at him, making a face. "I...I am sorry, Lord..."

Tas'hukh frowned, then let out a sigh. "It is all right," he said, sheathing his own sword and stepping aside to look down into the water. "It is about time for a short break anyway," he muttered, just barely seeing the look of relief flit across Ri'hus's face. He fought down his disappointment as he turned away, pretending not to notice as he walked over toward the bench where he had set their evening meal so they would not have to leave the courtyard. They had been sparring like this for weeks now. And so far, all Ri'hus had managed to do was improve his dodging skills. If ever a coward was needed in a battle, Tas'hukh mused to himself, then Ri'hus would fit the bill just nicely. It was only too bad their army was not looking for cowards.

"I am sorry, Lord," Ri'hus murmured again as they sat down beside the pool to eat the figs and cakes he had brought. "I know I am not fulfilling your expectations..."

"It is still early yet," Tas'hukh sighed. "You have only to get the swing of it, so to speak."

A devastated look settled upon Ri'hus's face. "But Lord--we have been training for weeks," he protested, voicing Tas'hukh's thoughts aloud. "And I have not improved one bit in all this time!"

"This is nonsense. You have improved, a little bit...I just have to convince you somehow not to run from the sword so very much. Once you overcome this, you should be doing much better. There is just that one little obstacle. After we eat, we can work on that. You will be swinging your sword at me and I will be blocking you in no time."

Ri'hus sighed miserably, but offered no protest. He picked up a fig and chewed on it disconsolately while Tas'hukh sipped at his wine. They ate in silence for a while, occasionally looking up at the darkening sky or down at the glittering pool; when Tas'hukh leaned over far enough he could see Ri'hus's sword shimmering on the bottom, and cocked his head, biting into a cake.

"You will need to fetch yourself a new sword, however..."

Ri'hus flushed. "I--I'm sorry, Lord. I would have tried to catch it, had I been able to..." He scrambled to his feet and hastened toward the pool steps. Tas'hukh's ear flicked when he trotted down them into the water, and he opened his mouth to tell him that fetching it was unnecessary, but the young Kana had vanished before he could even speak. Tas'hukh gaped at the water for a moment or two, hardly able to believe his eyes. After a brief silence, when he was just about ready to call out to him, Ri'hus's head popped up with a splash, and he sputtered and bobbed his way toward the steps. He clambered out, gasping for breath and brushing water from his eyes. Tas'hukh sat silently and watched him return to his seat, sopping wet and clasping his dripping sword in one hand. He eased himself down onto the tiles and set the sword beside him with a grimace.

"I do not know how well I can handle it wet," he murmured, wringing out his lappets.

Tas'hukh just stared at him. When Ri'hus met his eyes, giving a small frown, he realized he had no clue what he'd actually said. "My sword," Ri'hus clarified, and Tas'hukh felt his ears grow hot, and had to avert his eyes and hurriedly take a drink of wine just to give his mouth something to do.

"It will probably keep slipping out of my hands," Ri'hus continued. "I've never been good at gripping, and my stroke is so ineffective. I thought perhaps I would learn from you, but I always seem to lose it so fast. You are sure you do not do anything particular with your hands, Lord, so that you can keep it up for so long--?"

Tas'hukh choked on his wine and nearly spat it up on the tiles. Ri'hus tilted his head in puzzlement as he hastened to wipe at his mouth, coughing. "There--there is no special technique, trust me," he managed to force out. "Just let it sit and dry a bit...and then we can resume. I learned the exact same way as you, you know. The only magic to it is patience and perseverance."

Ri'hus sighed and lowered his head, taking a sip of the wine Tas'hukh had offered him. "I do not know," he murmured. "You have been patient, and I have been perseverant, but nothing seems to have changed..." He lifted his head. "I would not take offense, Lord, were you to change your mind..."

Tas'hukh waved the comment off before it had even come out. It was the same thing the youth offered every single night, before they would quit for the day, and he had become used to hearing it. "I am not changing my mind," he said, as he had said so many times before. "We just need to try a bit harder, is all. Remember, we have the rest of the year. And I have only you to train. You will be sparring among the best of them before you know it."

Ri'hus lowered his head again. Tas'hukh did feel a twinge of guilt that he was able to say the words so easily, yet not mean them...he couldn't understand how the private had not improved nearly so much as he should have, by now. Even the lousiest fighters he had seen had improved greatly, once being taken in by a personal trainer...why was this one the exception? If he had not been the one training him himself, he would have blamed it on lack of practice or motivation...but Ri'hus had both in spades. It made no sense, that he was still so poor at it all.

"Time to get back to it," he announced, after they had finished the figs and cakes and downed the last of their wine; Ri'hus looked miserable again, yet didn't protest as they got to their feet. He picked up his sword and turned it about, making certain it was dry, before they faced off and started sparring again. To his credit, Ri'hus did attempt to actively swing at Tas'hukh more frequently now, though he still did little better, and still spent just as much time dodging the captain's attacks. The longer this went on the more he cringed and whimpered as he ducked aside, until he was very nearly crying, the tears springing up into his eyes and his ears flaring back as he dodged and tried pathetically to swing. When at last he dropped his sword again and threw his arms up over his head with a yelp, Tas'hukh stood down, fighting back a frustrated sigh and reaching for his weapon.

"I believe that is enough for the night," he said, again hiding his disappointment as he retrieved the sword. Ri'hus sniffled and rubbed at his muzzle, an ashamed look on his face. Tas'hukh handed him the sword and he meekly took it. "Perhaps tomorrow we will try something new," he offered, gesturing him to follow as they made their way out of the courtyard and back into the warmth of the household. Ri'hus kept his head low, sniffling and rubbing at his arms as they walked, while Tas'hukh mulled over his own thoughts, trying to figure out what he could be doing wrong. There was simply no way the private could be such a lousy fighter.

"Perhaps small arms," he murmured, their sandals clacking. "Perhaps you would have more luck with a dagger. A sword is a great and unwieldy weapon, after all, and your build is rather smaller than most Kana in training...yet there are some Kana of your size who excel in small arms..." He turned his head to look at the private. "What do you think, should you like trying out the dagger tomorrow--?"

Ri'hus was rubbing his forearms and cringing. As soon as he saw Tas'hukh looking at him he gasped and straightened up, very nearly saluting. "I--I do not know, Lord," he stammered abruptly. "My sword is not too heavy, so that cannot be the only thing...and swordfighting is the biggest part of being promoted..."

Tas'hukh frowned. "Why are you doing that to your arms...?" When Ri'hus gave him a blank look he halted and turned around, brow furrowing. "I saw you doing that in the courtyard as well...what are you doing? Are your muscles aching?"

Ri'hus flushed and drew his arms in toward his chest, folding them as if to hide them. "They...my muscles do hurt, just a little bit, Lord...they will feel better tomorrow..."

"Perhaps it is as I said and the sword is merely too big for you--?" Tas'hukh reached out to grasp Ri'hus's arm and the private gasped, jerking it back, though not hard enough to free himself from the older Kana's grip. "Perhaps you are holding it improperly since it's too big for you," Tas'hukh suggested. "A smaller one might not cause such a problem..." He trailed off and noticed the look on Ri'hus's face as he squeezed his lower arm, encased in its armlet; as soon as he let him go the private drew his arm back again, and crossed them both over his middle, shifting from foot to foot as if he had to urinate. Tas'hukh's muzzle wrinkled in confusion.

"What is it--?" he asked, perplexed. "Your arms are bothering you--?"

Ri'hus hastily shook his head. "It's...just exhaustion, Lord...I should be able to sleep it off--"

He cut this off with a yelp when Tas'hukh grasped his arm again. The private wrenched himself to the side as if to yank himself free, then started to sink, twisting toward Tas'hukh, and nearly falling on his knees. He made a horrible face the entire way and Tas'hukh stared at him in stunned silence. Ri'hus continued letting out pained whimpering noises as Tas'hukh raised his arm and ran his fingers over the armlet protecting his forearm.

"Is this bothering you...?" he asked, brow furrowing even more. Before Ri'hus could protest, he unfastened the armlet and started to pull it loose. Ri'hus whined like a beaten dog and tried pulling away again; Tas'hukh blinked and gawked at the sight of his bared arm. His fur was stained red from where it was worn raw, at his wrist and near his elbow where the armlet started and ended. Tas'hukh stared at this, then hurried to pull off the other armlet, finding the same thing here. Ri'hus bared his teeth and flared his ears, shifting and whimpering.

"Private!" Tas'hukh continued staring at the pathetic sight, unable to believe it. "You're bleeding!"

"It..." Ri'hus's voice was papyrus thin. "It is nothing, Lord...just some blisters, that's all..."

"Some blisters! How long has it been like this--? Do not tell me you have been training with me like this for very long!"

Ri'hus winced. "They--they do not bother me so much, Lord--truly, I will be fine--"

"Your armor does not fit properly!" Tas'hukh lifted his head to frown at him, still clasping his hands; he bent his head to the side to look at Ri'hus's legbands. "Do your legs hurt as well--? What about your body armor? Does it fit properly--?"

Ri'hus hesitantly shook his head. "I...my legs are fine, Lord...my girdle too...they do not bother me, honest." He slowly pulled his arms free. "I...I've just been swinging my sword improperly, and so of course I would get a few blisters, Lord...it is nothing important..."

"Nothing important? This is quite important!" Tas'hukh took his wrist--carefully, this time--and started leading him up the hallway again. "Why did you never tell me about this? If this is how you have been training for so long, then no wonder you cannot hold your sword! These damned things are the wrong fit! Did you have this problem in Tefkha's barracks--?"

Ri'hus flushed, stumbling to keep up. "I--it's nothing, Lord, I swear--!"

"Cease telling me it is nothing and give me the truth! How long have you been wearing faulty armor? And why did you never speak up about it? This could have a great impact upon your training!"

Ri'hus ducked his head. "I...I thought it would go away, after a little while. It is nothing! I could not tell the lieutenant about nothing--no one lets a piddling thing like their armor get in their way--and even so, I still train poorly even without it..."

"Utter rubbish." Tas'hukh began to slow his step not far from his room. "I do not think even I would swing very well, if that is what my arms felt like all the time!" He stopped to open his door, pulling Ri'hus inside and then digging about for unguents and gauze. "First we will clean them, and then we will bandage them up. And tomorrow I will hunt you down some decent armor. Some different armlets, and some new legbands and a girdle while I am at it. It will never do for you to be training in such inferior stuff."

Ri'hus flushed and averted his eyes. "My...my father was the one bought it for me...we could not afford to get new ones."

"Well, you are in my care now, and I can afford to get new ones. And a new sword, while we are at it. I still think this one is far too big for you."

Ri'hus sat in silence, still rubbing at his raw arms while Tas'hukh pulled out a jar of unguent and some linen bandages. He returned and set them down next to the young Kana, reaching for the waterbowl. "Place your arms in this and let them soak a moment," he said, and Ri'hus obeyed, wincing as he did so, though the awful look on his face faded after a moment or two. "Private, you must let me tell you something," Tas'hukh said as he started unraveling the linens. "I realize you have probably been told your whole life how it is to be a Kana--keep your muzzle shut, tough it out, and always obey orders. But there are exceptions to every single rule. Lieutenant Resikh told me what he did for you in the barracks, so just you think of what would have happened had he kept his muzzle shut. I can think of a million times when it was not appropriate to obey orders--this very tribe itself would not exist if its captains had not rebelled against their generals. And sometimes, toughing it out is not the best way to get something done."

"The other Kana would have mocked me even worse if they had thought I could not stand a few blisters," Ri'hus murmured.

"The other Kana would mock anyone for any asinine reason. Trainees are spiteful spoiled brats! You must learn to tough out their comments--but if anything prevents you from training your best, then you had best speak up about it so it can be fixed." He lifted one of Ri'hus's arms from the water and carefully dried it off; the private's muzzle wrinkled slightly, but he didn't whimper, which Tas'hukh took to be a good sign. "There is a difference between toughing something out, and just denying the obvious," the captain said as he rubbed some unguent onto the blisters and started wrapping up Ri'hus's arm. "We tough out those things which we know we can handle. If something holds us back from being our best, then we are simply denying things. Try to see this difference. You are toughing things out right now without even knowing it."

Ri'hus's head popped up. "I am--?"

Tas'hukh nodded and started drying off the other arm, patting gently at the mussed fur. "Remember? You were to leave the tribe...and seek another fate elsewhere. Yet you stayed here despite all your misgivings. You are still having difficulty. But you are toughing it out. This is the difference. You can handle this, and it is making you stronger." He finished tying the gauze and Ri'hus slowly pulled his arm back toward himself, rubbing at it again, a faint blush in his cheeks. "These, though...these are just making you clumsier! Tomorrow we will go straight to the market, first thing in the morning, and procure some new armor and arms for you."

Ri'hus blinked, then he did something Tas'hukh had never expected him to do--he gave a huge smile, and then started laughing out loud. The captain blinked as well and frowned at him in confusion. The private started wiping at his eyes, trying to choke back his laughter unsuccessfully.

"What is it...?" Tas'hukh asked, mystified.

"You...you..." Ri'hus had to struggle to speak. "You said you--you would buy me some new arms!" He started laughing anew; when Tas'hukh could only stare at him blankly he held up his bandaged limbs and practically cackled. "Arms!"

Tas'hukh's ears flared. He gaped at the private as he continued laughing so hard that he cried, and couldn't quite believe that such a little slip had amused him so much. He let out his breath and gave a rather confused smile in return, standing and picking up the jar and the rest of the linens.

"Yes, well..." he started, and coughed. "I can find you a new sword, though as for new arms, I'm afraid you are stuck with the ones you were born with."

Ri'hus howled and rubbed at his streaming eyes, wings shaking.

Tas'hukh let out his breath as he put the supplies away and dumped out the waterbowl in the bathing area. "Bright and early, then," he said, dusting his hands. "Straight to the market, to an armorer and then to a blacksmith. And this time we will make certain all fits properly so you can fight your best for once." He walked across the room and Ri'hus rose to his feet, his laughter at last dying down. Tas'hukh opened his door and smiled at the young Kana as he came forward. "You will get yourself a good night's rest for this, because after your arms are healed up, we will just have to work harder to make up for today. Have a good sleep."

Ri'hus halted right before the doorway and gave him a blank look. "You--you mean, leave--?" he asked, looking confused. "Go to my own quarters now--?"

Tas'hukh frowned, then his brow furrowed. "Of course," he said, puzzled. "This is what one does when one sleeps, is it not...?"

Ri'hus flushed and ducked his head. "Of course! I--I mean, ah--goodnight, Lord. Pleasant sleep." He turned and hurried out the door, wings hunched. Tas'hukh cocked an ear as he passed.

"Bright and early," he called out, and Ri'hus paused long enough to peer back at him, bobbed his head, and saluted.

"Bright and early, Lord! Goodnight!"

Tas'hukh smiled slightly as he watched the younger Kana trot off toward his own door and disappear within his rooms. Once he was gone he stepped back inside his own room and shut the door, leaning against it with a sigh. He lifted his hand to rub at his eyes and grimaced.

I had no idea training would be so tedious...at least he is not so much of a whiner as I'anen was...but I would not be surprised if even I'ee could have beaten him at fighting...

With a heavier sigh he pushed himself away from the door and made his way back toward his bed, feeling suddenly exhausted. As he passed the spot where he had been tending to the young private he halted, nostrils flaring. He sniffed at the air, frowned, then turned his head slightly. He stared at the chair Ri'hus had been occupying, then, perplexed, slowly moved toward it and leaned over it to sniff again.

Was he just imagining things...? He could have sworn that he smelled the faintest tinge of musk in the air...but...why would he be smelling that here...?

He lifted his head and stared at the chair, ears flaring as his thoughts raced. He vaguely remembered the way the younger Kana had been blushing, as he'd tended to his injured arms...but...that didn't mean anything...did it...?

You--you mean, leave--? Go to my own quarters now...?

Tas'hukh's brow furrowed. He stared at the chair for the longest time, disbelieving, before lifting his head to stare at the door and wondering just what he might have missed out on for the night.

* * * * *

Formerly bitter enemies, the two tribes, the River and the Yellow Sands, had joined together. Training had been undertaken, and fighting moves learned. Within a matter of a few weeks the soldiers grew accustomed to training side by side, and both tribes accepted each other without difficulty. Despite the greater number of Yellow Sands Kana now housed within the nearly empty city, the River Tribe was allowed to maintain control over the situation, and aside from a brief argument here and there in the taverns, there were no disputes between them. The one time a Yellow Sands Kana had attempted a fight with one of the River Tribe one evening, the event had been quickly quashed, as soon as the lieutenant, She'hekha, stepped up and twisted his arm behind his back, convincing everyone to stand down. Since then even arguments had been minimal, and they focused instead on their shared hatred and made it their focus every time they swung the sword or hefted the spear. The Yellow Sands Tribe even possessed a small group of archers, a class unknown to the River Tribe; and the River Tribe willingly shared their food stores, and their Moru, with their strange guests. Though their time was limited, they trained hard and trained well.

Today the sun bore down hot, burning the dusty soil of the barracks yard as the Kana sparred, kicking up great clouds of it so that after several hours they were all the same uniform shade of dull brown, and one could hardly be distinguished from another. Captain Khanef and Captain Fe'kheru, as well as Lieutenant Meteri, stood off to the side of the yard, watching the sparring in silence. The Yellow Sands Kana greatly outnumbered the River Tribe, as General Nehara had lent them the bulk of his army for the attack; yet they now all fought so well together that even those watching could barely tell who was who anymore. Fe'kheru cast Khanef a surreptitious glance every so often, keeping watch over the pensive look on the younger Kana's face; eventually Khanef noticed his attention and flicked an ear.

"I am reading your thoughts," Khanef said, staring at the sparring Kana. "And you are right...I rather wish I would be swinging a sword alongside all of you, once you are gone."

Fe'kheru's wings relaxed and he offered a slight smile. "I rather wish you would be there alongside us," he replied. "Yet as much as I hate to say it..."

Meteri lifted his head to look at them. Khanef waved at the air in a gesture of exaggerated unconcern. "I am used to playing babysitter!" he exclaimed. "Someone is needed to keep these pups in check when you louts are away."

Fe'kheru's smile grew. "You see, you are the only one right for the job."

"This much is true, but if you are gone too long, I am taking Ikhi'et away and we will run off together. It will serve you right for abandoning that poor thing again."

Meteri frowned at the comment but Fe'kheru appeared to take it in good humor. "In all truth, she would probably be happiest with this!" he returned, and Khanef laughed to himself. His laughter faded when he noticed someone walking their way, and he immediately fell silent, nostrils flaring. Fe'kheru and Meteri turned their heads as well to see Lieutenant She'hekha striding toward them. He stopped not far away and turned to watch the training along with them. Lieutenant Fa'rukha paced back and forth among the fighting Kana, yelling out orders and insults. She'hekha tilted his head, arms crossed.

"Well, Lords...? What do you think? Are their skills satisfactory?"

Fe'kheru made a face at the heat and ran his hand across his brow. He nodded. "They do well. I could not have trained them better myself, Lieutenant."

"I have seen better," Khanef said, as if to himself.

"As have I," Meteri mumbled; Fe'kheru frowned at him and he fell silent. When he looked back up at the other lieutenant She'hekha's mouth twitched.

"There is always room for improvement, I suppose," he mused.

Fe'kheru shook his head. "No...they are doing well. Much better than I had hoped. If they have reached their maximum, then it would be best to depart for the south as soon as possible, before they may grow weary or rusty again."

"General Nehara keeps us fit with regular drills so we do not grow lazy," She'hekha said. "We are among the most elite fighting forces of the northerly tribes, which is probably why the Great Red Tribe has not thought to come after us just yet." He noticed the scowls Khanef and Meteri were giving him and turned to look back at the fighters. "And the River Tribe burns with a fresh lust for vengeance, which should only grow stronger every day," he added. "I take it both our tribes will put up more than enough of a fight for General Mahakhi's men to withstand." He gestured. "With your leave, we shall depart soon for the south. When had you planned on the attack?"

"As soon as possible." Fe'kheru frowned. "I do not wish to waste too much time here, when time may be little."

She'hekha lifted a brow, and Meteri gave the captain a puzzled look. He didn't clarify what he meant, so She'hekha shrugged and bowed.

"Then we should be ready to depart upon the morrow should you wish, Lord. Simply say the word and we will be ready."

Fe'kheru frowned. "You do not think this is too short notice--?"

She'hekha shook his head, looking unconcerned. "We have done well with even less, Lord. All we need is a bit of food in our bellies, a night's sleep, and our arms and armor awaiting us when we awaken. And the Great Red Tribe shall fall."

Fe'kheru turned to look at the sparring Kana and nodded again. "Very well. Only inform me in time, in the morning, so I may ready myself as well. I will be leading the attack."

"Would you mind overmuch if I asked exactly how you plan to approach this, Lord...?"

"Exactly as it should be done," Fe'kheru replied. "We will approach their tribe head-on, and make no attempt to hide or disguise our approach. They will see us as plain as they saw Sut'khut's men."

Khanef and Meteri--as well as She'hekha, even--all looked at him as if he were mad. Meteri looked as if he wanted to protest, yet Khanef gripped his arm and made him fall silent. She'hekha raised his brows. "You are certain of this, Lord...?" he inquired, voicing the other two's thoughts. "This plan did not turn out so well for Lord Sut'khut, you recall..."

"I do not care about this," Fe'kheru said, his stare unwavering. "For how they cut down every last one of our men even as they fled, we shall meet them face to face, with nothing left to lose. They will know that we are no longer afraid of them, no matter what they have done. I cannot say that we will win but gods willing, they will at least learn that we do not flinch back from our enemies, and we never will."

She'hekha stared at him for a moment, then shrugged slightly and put his arm to his breast. "As you wish, Lord." He bowed again and walked off toward the troops, calling out to Fa'rukha. Fe'kheru stood watching them for a moment more before his wings sank; Meteri and Khanef both looked at him as he sank slowly into the folding chair which had been set out for him earlier, and he rubbed at his eyes. Meteri quickly moved to stand beside him, peering down at him with a worried look.

"Lord?" he asked. "Are you feeling well? You look pale today."

Fe'kheru waved at the air, still shielding his eyes; the other two saw the dark circles under them, and Khanef frowned. "I am fine, Meteri...it is merely this hideous weather. Perhaps we should leave in the evening, or before sunrise even, so it is not so bothersome."

Meteri grasped the arm of the chair. "I'll speak with She'hekha and ask him this, Lord. In the meantime, do you wish to return to the general's house? It's cooler there, and Khanef and I can supervise the troops in your stead. All will be well and ready for tomorrow morning, should you wish."

Fe'kheru glanced up at the training Kana and stared at them for a moment or so, their sword clashes ringing in his ears and their yells echoing throughout the barracks yard; their fur was matted with the dust and sweat that caked them, yet they fought still as hard as they had their very first day there, seemingly without any signs of tiring. They would do fine without him. With another sigh and a pained look, he pushed himself to his feet. He placed his hand to his breast for a moment, and Meteri frowned but saluted in return. It was an odd time and occasion for the gesture, yet he asked no questions. Fe'kheru frowned himself on seeing the younger Kana salute him, but then merely nodded and turned away. Meteri stayed behind, watching as the captain made his way slowly back to the general's household.

* * * * *

Ikhi'et was just as worried, on seeing her master return, as Meteri had been. As soon as he came in the door she placed herself upon his arm and looked him over, letting out a concerned murmur which he gently brushed off.

"It is nothing, sweet one, nothing but the heat! You are all so anxious for me today. Relax, I will be fine with some wine and some rest."

"Wine?" Ikhi'et's eyes lit up and she went to fetch the wine jar. Fe'kheru removed his armor and his jewelry and sat down on the bed with a heavy sigh, letting his head hang. He accepted the cup the Moru offered him and took a long drink, then wiped his mouth. He stared at the floor for a moment or two, until she murmured again, her brow creasing.

"Master...?"

Fe'kheru lifted his head and looked at her for a moment, then smiled gently. He held out his arm and she came to sit beside him, snuggling close and resting her head against his breast.

Fe'kheru stroked her head and nuzzled at her cheek. "Sweet one...I hate to tell you this, but should all go as planned, my men and I shall be leaving the tribe tomorrow, to go to the south and avenge our fallen."

Ikhi'et's worried look only grew. She lifted her head and mewed at him.

"Please, Lord, to not go...?"

"I'm afraid we must, sweet one." He lightly kissed her forehead. "So that you and all of us may be safe from them, in the future. Should we fail to do this, they will know we are weak." He sighed and let go of her to rub his eyes again. "We will be leaving early...so I suppose that I should turn down the lights..."

Ikhi'et leapt to her feet and put out a couple of the lamps. She returned to him with a small smile, and when he leaned back onto the bed she crept up to join him, draping herself along his body. She cooed and stroked her fingers down his abdomen, but he only made a face and took her hand.

"Sweet one...please, not tonight. Watching the training has left me exhausted, and I must take my rest before tomorrow. I hope you understand."

Disappointment spread across Ikhi'et's face. Her master had never turned her down before. She had rather thought that their last night together would be a special one. Nevertheless, she pulled her hand away and withdrew herself from him with a meek look. He saw the look in her eyes and let out a final sigh, touching her arm

"Sweet one...I am sorry. I did not mean to hurt you. I am merely not as young even as you are...let us do this instead, lie down upon the pillows, and let me pleasure you. You need not pleasure me, tonight."

Ikhi'et blinked. She wasn't certain how to respond, so he gently pressed on her shoulder, making her lie down. As soon as this was done she complied and wriggled into place when he shifted some pillows beneath her, raising her hips into the air. She was trembling already, and spread her thighs so that she lay with herself parted widely, her breath starting to come quick in her throat. Fe'kheru found the most comfortable way to sit upon the bed and lean over, with one leg stretched out behind him, and lowered his head between her legs. He snuffled at the ring of downy fur there, catching her scent and hearing her whimper, before sticking out his tongue to lick at her juices. Ikhi'et arched and whined. He poked his muzzle deeper, in repetition, simulating thrusts. A few times he let his tongue trail over her thik'ahi, and he had to admit, he savored her taste as he always had, no matter what his mood. When she whined more loudly and lifted and dropped her hips, lifted and dropped her hips, he almost smiled to himself. She was a good mate.

He didn't keep her going for long. He felt his own sheath swelling between his legs and had to bring their pleasure to an end. Before he himself could reach completion, he rutted his nose at her and caused her to buck and cry out. She let out a long wavering sigh as she descended, thighs quivering and head lolling. Fe'kheru lifted his own head, fighting down his arousal and drawing her to him. He lay back again and cradled her as she curled up next to him, purring gratefully. He smiled and kissed the top of her head.

"Do you feel better now, sweet one?"

Ikhi'et nodded lazily. "Much better...to thank, Lord." She tentatively touched his belly, almost causing him to flinch. "To be certain...?"

He drew her hand away again. "I am certain, sweet one...I already came, while I was pleasuring you. I admit. You are too much for me to resist for long." He tilted her head up, still smiling, and kissed her. "Let us sleep now. All right? And as soon as we come back, I will have all the time in the world for you."

Ikhi'et nodded again, smiling herself. She shut her eyes and dropped her head into the crook of his arm with a sigh, falling still. Fe'kheru shut his eyes as well, seeking slumber.

It was perhaps best that Ikhi'et, of the two of them, dozed off first, as then she did not see how Fe'kheru's sheath remained swollen with need for some time, his seed unreleased, nor did she see the slight grimace of pain that passed fleetingly across his face before he too slipped into sleep.

* * * * *

Sleep was all too short, that night, for the River Tribe and the Yellow Sands Tribe...

Meteri arrived just before dawn, creeping into Fe'kheru's room and gently shaking his shoulder. The captain arose, rubbing at his eyes and glancing at his Moru; Ikhi'et slept as he slipped on his armor and readied his best sword, sheathing it and checking himself over to make certain he hadn't forgotten anything. Meteri waited at the door in silence. Fe'kheru at last finished and headed for the door, only to hear a soft mew. He turned back to see that Ikhi'et had awakened, and was sitting up and staring after him with wet eyes. His heart hurt on seeing that look on her face; he stepped back to kiss her, and she took hold of his head, her tongue brushing against his. He did not wish her to but she slipped her hand underneath his kilt and loincloth and stroked at his sheath, making him snort; from the corner of his eye he saw Meteri duck his head, his mouth twitching, and exit the room without a word. Fe'kheru glanced back at his mate and furrowed his brow.

"Ikhi'..."

She smiled up at him. "Master to pleasure Ikhi'et last night? Then Ikhi'et to pleasure Master. Just one more. To remember, and come back quicker than last time. Please...?" And she gave him such a sweet smile that he could hardly refuse her.

Meteri stood outside the door and waited, examining his claws, his ear flicking at the panting noises coming from the captain's room. He did glance in at them just once, to see Ikhi'et smiling as Fe'kheru grasped her hand and ran it up and down his shaft, his head tossed back and his breath coming fast. He looked away again when the older Kana dropped his head forward with a grunt and sprayed, Ikhi'et giggling and ducking her head to try to catch his seed in her mouth. Meteri's own mouth twitched again in a smile. Fe'kheru would have to learn sometime that one would go mad without enough nesakh'ai.

They departed for the city gate then, after Fe'kheru had given his Moru one last kiss goodbye and smoothed himself down, and more Kana joined them as they strode up the street. Here Nehara's men awaited them upon their Sha, She'hekha and Fa'rukha in the lead; Captain Khanef stood near the gate itself, frowning. Fe'kheru approached him and they clasped arms, then the older captain tugged on Khanef's arm and drew him into an embrace. Khanef blinked in surprise, then returned the gesture, his eyes growing wet. When they pulled apart he snuffled and wiped at them with the back of his hand.

"Promise you won't return as just a name on a lappet," he murmured. "We have had more than enough of those."

Fe'kheru's eyes softened. "I will do the best I can, Brother."

"You'd better, else your Moru will go insane. And if you take too long coming back you'll find the rest of us slain because she got tired of waiting. Just you see. She is tougher than she looks."

Fe'kheru smiled again. "I would not doubt it, by now!" He saluted and Khanef and the others who had gathered at the gate to wish them farewell saluted in return. "Keep good watch over them all, Khanef-Brother. If all does not go well...you will be the ones left to carry our name."

Khanef flinched. "Here is hoping you can carry your own damn name," he retorted, and Fe'kheru smiled at him once more before climbing atop his Sha. The dawn was just the merest glimmer in the east by now, and they filtered out of the gate, heading south. No one cheered or yelled their goodbyes; Meteri glanced back over his shoulder to see the rest of the River Tribe Kana standing atop the wall and just inside the gate, watching after them silently. After a while he turned to face forward again, ears flaring and face uneasy.

"I do not like the silence," he murmured. "It is too much like a bad omen."

"We have been through much, Meteri-Kana," Fe'kheru replied. "I do not think they are ready just yet for a noisy farewell...perhaps, when we return they will be more up to cheering." He peered back at the dwindling sight of the gate, and sighed softly to himself. Meteri noticed the look on his face but said nothing.

"Lord," She'hekha called out, and they both looked at him; he rode just off to their side. He pointed ahead. "If we pick up pace, we may reach them in just under a week, possibly six or seven days even. If you wish to hasten, that is."

Fe'kheru opened his mouth to speak, then rubbed at his arm. He bit his lip and then nodded.

"Let us pick up our pace. To better get this over with."

She'hekha cocked his head. "One would rather think you do not want this battle," he said, but turned away before Fe'kheru or Meteri could speak, and waved at the rest of the men, yelling at them to pick up speed. The two tribes did so, and soon they were trotting along in the direction of the great desert road, the River Tribe wall vanishing into the haze behind them.

Meteri kept looking over his shoulder at it, yet couldn't see it anymore. He chewed his lip for quite a while, until feeling something upon his arm. He looked down to see Fe'kheru squeezing it with his hand, then glanced up at the captain. Fe'kheru gave him a look.

"Look ahead, 'Teri-Kana. This is where our future lies now."

Meteri stared at Fe'kheru for a moment or two, then his eyes blurred. He blinked a few times before nodding, and managed a tentative wavery smile. Fe'kheru smiled slightly in return, and the two of them faced ahead, putting the Great Red Tribe ahead of them, and the River Tribe behind.

And the great army of the River Tribe and the Yellow Sands Tribe rode on into the dawn.

* * * * *

Lieutenant Resikh's back thumped into the wall, and he flared his wings right before Lieutenant Djuta grasped hold of him, crushing their muzzles together. He opened his mouth and they sucked and bit at each other, growling under their breath; Resikh sank his claws into Djuta's arms while the other Kana started pulling hastily at his kilt.

Resikh pulled away from his friend's mouth and tilted his head back when Djuta started nuzzling at his neck; he caressed his sides, and gasped when Djuta started untying his loincloth. "You are so sure about leaving your rooms behind...?" he whispered, panting, and shivered at the feel of the other Kana's hands running up and down his sheath.

Djuta took Resikh's ear in his mouth and tugged on it; they both fumbled to undo his loincloth, now. "So long as we are already here," he managed to get out, and tossed the strip of cloth away.

"Won't Khetai tear your rooms apart again--?" Resikh shook harder, and they both worked at loosing each other's belt. He leaned forward to nuzzle at Djuta's neck and the other lieutenant grasped his nape, sinking his claws into it and growling again.

"She's grown out of that phase," Djuta whispered, voice guttural, and squeezed Resikh's sheath so the other Kana gasped and stiffened. "Now cease talking and get out of these clothes. I have not even seen you naked in weeks."

Resikh let out a noise that might have been a laugh or a snort. "All of a sudden you feel like looking at things--?" he said, then gasped again when Djuta yanked off his kilt and started working at his armor. Resikh growled and followed suit, and they pulled at each other's clothes like two hormone-heated teenagers, biting each other's neck and raking their claws over their bodies. Djuta steered Resikh back toward the bed and they fell over it, still clawing and biting; Resikh's eyes glazed over and he licked along Djuta's shoulder, only to gasp when the other Kana pulled off his skullcap and tossed it aside with a challenging grin. Resikh blinked, then wrinkled his muzzle and pulled off Djuta's skullcap, clenching it in his hand so the lappets dangled between his fingers.

"You want to be Moru again? Then go right ahead!"

Djuta's nostrils flared; their musk hung heavy in the air already. Training and guarding had been stepped up lately, due to scouts' reports of odd activity in the north; and so the two of them had not managed to be properly alone with each other for quite a while now, aside from brief moments stolen between shifts, wherever privacy would allow; even Khetai had gotten more attention than Resikh had. "If I am the Moru then you will have to be the Kana," Djuta whispered, and pressed his muzzle behind Resikh's ear, making his companion shake and whimper. Resikh's claws sank into his arms almost hard enough to draw blood; a moment later he had pushed Djuta over and rolled atop him, snarling and biting at his neck again. Djuta arched and gasped, his body thrumming; they parted from each other briefly enough for him to turn himself over, and he clambered up onto hands and knees. Resikh grasped his hip and ran his free hand up between his legs, rubbing his swelling sheath. He bent over him and bit his nape.

"If Mahakhi does not schedule more rest time then I will strangle him myself," he growled between his teeth, pulling his hand back and parting Djuta's buttocks; the other Kana lifted his tail. "I bet he is getting more time with his Moru than we are getting with each other."

"Perhaps we should move back into the barracks," Djuta suggested, spreading his legs. "Then maybe we would see more of each other--" And he gasped and stiffened, a grimace flitting across his face when Resikh plunged deep into him. He dropped his head and dug his claws into the bed, tensing his muscles to accept Resikh's weight as the other Kana began rutting at him hard. They did not usually go at each other so fast, but today was obviously an exception, as they started rocking back and forth heatedly, their guttural noises of lust filling the air. They didn't bother speaking anymore; that could wait for later, once their bodies were properly sated. Resikh bent down and seized his mate's nape in his teeth, snarling under his breath; he felt Djuta tighten before relaxing, and his wings rose on both sides of him, fanning the air as they moved. He slid his hands up along Djuta's groin to tangle his fingers in the thick fur there, and squeezed his penis, making the other lieutenant yelp and buck beneath him. His own wings slashed at the air and he grunted heatedly.

Djuta put up with his heavy thrusting for a short while, before sinking to the bed, his breath coming in short gasps; he spread his legs wide, bending his knees, and Resikh growled, still caressing him where he now pressed against the mattress, the sheets tangling around their feet. He kicked them aside impatiently and increased his speed; Djuta dropped his head and whimpered, but managed to reach one hand up to grasp Resikh's arm. He squeezed it briefly before letting go; Resikh shifted his hips to thrust deeper, practically sitting atop Djuta's buttocks by now. His tail quivered.

Djuta relaxed again and dropped his head against the pillows. His eyes were shut tight, his muzzle wrinkled from the strain.

"Have you...have you been keeping track of...the time...?" he panted, and gritted his teeth.

Resikh's brow furrowed. "You--you ask this now--?" he gasped. He shifted himself, as he had begun to slip to the side. "I am--I am boring you that much now, truly--?"

"This isn't it..." Djuta winced and flinched beneath him, and Resikh could tell from the subtle shiver of his muscles that he had come. His limbs went limp and his panting grew weak. "It...it is merely that we are needed...at the front gate, shortly now..."

Resikh let out a blast of air from his nose. "We are always needed out there. Let them do without us for once...if we are late we may take the blame together--" He unwittingly stressed the last syllable of this last word, as he clutched his mate to him and, bending his knees sharply, pushed himself inside as deeply as he could go. Djuta's whole body tightened up, then he arched and screamed, his face twisting and his wings flailing wildly. Resikh gasped and spurted just as he fell back to the bed, claws digging into the sheets and a pained noise escaping him; Resikh pushed himself up slightly, fear entering his eyes.

"Djuta--?"

Djuta didn't get to reply. Before he could, a blaring, wailing sound came from the distance. Both Kana froze and opened their eyes, lifting their heads and staring into the dimness in confusion.

"Wh-what..." Djuta managed to say weakly.

"The alarm," Resikh whispered. He shook his head to clear it, then pressed his hands to Djuta's buttocks and carefully pulled himself out. As he did so Djuta lowered his head again, letting out the same noise that he had a moment ago. Resikh felt a wetness upon himself and glanced down to see that he seemed to be bleeding. He gasped and touched himself, yet felt no pain; he then jerked his head up to look at Djuta. Blood leaked from between his legs as he shakily pushed himself up and rolled over, his face pale. Resikh bared his teeth, unable to believe what he'd just done.

"Djuta--" He knotted his fist in the sheets. "I should have used some oil--! I did not--"

"It is all right, Res." Djuta's voice came out papyrus thin as he sat up and wiped a hand across his brow with a slight wince.

Resikh flushed. "But...I did not mean to..."

"Will you not believe me when I say to forget it? As if I have never felt worse?" Resikh winced this time and Djuta swung his legs over the side of the bed, finding his skullcap and slapping it atop his head, straightening the lappets. "Hurry, you'd best find our clothes; that can't be a good sign out there."

Resikh ducked and fished about for their kilts and loincloths. He stood tying his own about himself as Djuta managed to push himself to his feet, swaying unsteadily. The pang went through Resikh again but he forced himself not to reach out to steady him, knowing the gesture would be unwelcome.

"Djuta, you are sure...?"

"You were merely carried away. So was I. This happens." Djuta grimaced as he tied on his loincloth and pulled his kilt around his hips. "What matters is that we both said 'Yes' ahead of time. So put it from your mind." Resikh flushed--he could tell that Djuta had not enjoyed the ending--but said nothing in response. "When did that alarm come?" Djuta asked, putting on his armor and flexing his wings. "One, two minutes ago?"

"About a minute. If we don't get out of here soon Mahakhi will flay our backsides!"

"I think he will have other matters on his mind." The blaring noise came again and Djuta sighed. Resikh knew what he was feeling, as he felt it too--relief that they were not yet late, and anxiety that the alarm, whatever it was, was not over yet. They hurriedly put on their sandals and armor, searching out their weapons and heading for the door.

"Hold a moment!" Djuta called out; Resikh stopped and glanced back at him. He felt his ears grow warm when Djuta reached up to place his skullcap back upon his head; how could he have forgotten such a thing? He opened his mouth to try to apologize again for what had happened, only to find Djuta's mouth pressed against his own. He froze and let the other Kana kiss him, before Djuta pulled away, claws grazing the side of Resikh's face. His mouth twitched.

"Perhaps next time, you should stick to being the Moru," he murmured.

Resikh flushed and lowered his eyes slightly. He reached up to brush his lappets into place as they turned and exited his room, hurrying out into the hallway. The blaring wailing noise faded, then started up yet again, and their ears flared.

"An alert usually comes before an alarm!" Resikh exclaimed. "Why then was there no warning this time--?"

"Perhaps they know what it is that approaches," Djuta said grimly. "And perhaps there was no time for a warning." He stumbled abruptly and Resikh forgot his personal vow, reaching out to steady him. He picked up his pace and they started walking briskly again. He noticed now that the other lieutenant had not taken the time to clean himself up in their hurry to leave--but then again, neither had he. He flushed even harder on seeing the slight red stains upon their kilts, and had to look away in shame.

"Brothers! You've heard the alarm--?"

He lifted his head. Lieutenants Nehef and Ahai'ikh approached from one of the side halls, all of them headed for the main entrance. The other two panted, breathless, as they reached Djuta and Resikh, and Nehef had to lean his hands upon his knees for a moment.

"Yes, we have," Djuta said. "What's going on? There was no alert or any such..."

"We were just on our way to fetch you," Nehef said. He stood up straight again and waved at the air, eyes wide. "Apparently some Kana were spotted approaching the city. A great number of them, from the north! We have yet to hear any more."

"We'd best get on to the gate," Ahai'ikh urged. "I doubt we are meant to keep standing around until it's over!"

Djuta nodded. "Come, then." He started off down the hall. The other three turned to follow; Resikh noticed Nehef and Ahai'ikh pause momentarily as they spotted the smudge of blood upon Djuta's kilt. They glanced back at Resikh in unison, and then, as if it were written upon his face, their gazes drifted down to look at his own kilt. He flushed a final time, not certain how they could tell so easily. Thankfully, they turned away without so much as a knowing glance at each other, and followed after Djuta. Resikh took a breath to steady himself and followed as well.

* * * * *

A great number of Kana had gathered atop the north wall, shielding their eyes although it was dim outside. A loud murmur had arisen, more Kana--for the most part, those not active within the army--and even some Moru jostling about below. Djuta and the others had to fight their way through to get to a spot atop the gate. Captain Tas'hukh, Lieutenant Hiath'ikh, Lieutenant Tas'eta, and Sergeant Binena stood here already, looking off into the distance.

"What goes on?" Djuta called. "It was so damned sudden this time!"

"Well, they sneaked up on us all of the sudden!" Hiath'ikh returned, an anxious note in his voice. "There is a whole mess of them approaching!"

"Who are they?"

"A great many Kana--approaching from the north," Tas'eta said. He too shielded his eyes, biting his lip. "It looks to be an entire army of them!" He turned to look at the others, brow furrowing. "What has been going on here, Lords--?"

Djuta's muzzle wrinkled. "We have had a few difficulties lately...Ahai'ikh, your eyes are best; come take a glance, and tell us what you can make out."

A few of the Kana moved aside for Ahai'ikh to take their place. He squinted and stared in silence for a moment before answering.

"I believe Lord Tas'eta is right...it looks like an army formation. Perhaps a thousand strong, perhaps more."

"A thousand..." Djuta's face grew apprehensive. "They outnumber us already. Not by much, but enough."

"Who are they?" Binena asked.

"If I am right, they are the River Tribe," Resikh said. "Yet they should not have so many warriors under their command."

"The--the River Tribe...?" Tas'eta's ears flared, the anxiety in his voice rising. "They are the tribe my father was fighting against when he was killed!--are they not--?"

"Rumor has been strong lately that they have been attempting an alliance with another tribe we have come into conflict with in the past," Nehef replied. "And so I would not doubt that this is in fact they."

"I assume that since you have dealt with them before, you know how to deal with them now!" Tas'eta stammered. "Right--?"

"Perhaps not." It was Hiath'ikh this time. Tas'eta turned to look at him, but the lieutenant didn't meet his eyes. "Our tribe barely escaped with our lives the last time we fought. We lost one of our best during that battle. Your father."

Tas'eta's ears lowered and a pained look came to his face. He glanced down at the land below, then gasped and pointed, shaking his hand.

"They draw closer!" he exclaimed, needlessly.

Indeed, far below, the great mass of Sha and Kana approached the settlement, drawing ever closer to the main gate. All of those standing atop it grasped the pommels of their swords, and Ahai'ikh gestured at the Kana waiting just behind the great doors; they drew their own weapons and gathered in a tight formation, ready to defend the city should the outsiders strike. Quick glances at the other walls showed the shadowy shapes of the Great Red Tribe Kana taking up positions all around the city, and those at the gate peered down once more at those who approached.

A captain rode in the front, red lappets fluttering, and he stared forward resolutely with eyes as gray as a storm. Two lieutenants flanked him, one younger than the other; these two looked up at those atop the gate, and a few of them nearly took a step back, seeing the hatred there. The rest of the army following them was made up of lieutenants and lesser soldiers riding in formation, and as soon as it became visible, all eyes focused on the standard that was being carried, the wavy lines upon it indicating the sign of the river. Nehef and Djuta tensed while the others chewed their lips anxiously, ears flicking. Even the trumpet-bearer had forgotten to continue sounding the alarm by now, his own eyes wide.

The captain at the head of the army at last lifted his head to look up at them. His eyes were dark, yet didn't seem quite so hateful as those of the rest. They scoured over each Kana peering down from atop the wall, and Tas'eta squirmed uneasily; they then halted at an invisible spot somewhere between Djuta and Tas'hukh, and he held up his hand, bringing his Sha to a halt. Around and behind him, the rest of the army slowly came to a stop, their ranks so huge that it was a while before word at last spread to the back to stop moving, and they all fell still. Not a single one of their Sha or footmen was out of place.

"They have been training," Hiath'ikh whispered what the rest of them had been thinking, and they fell silent again, tension thick in the air.

The captain in the lead lifted his head higher to look between them again. "Warriors of the Great Red Tribe!" he called out, his voice ringing off the walls; he grasped the reins of his Sha and rode it perpendicular to the front of the army, then back in the other direction, as if attempting to make a circuit of the wall. "I am Captain Fe'kheru of the River Tribe," he continued as he went, then halted before the gate again and gave them a challenging look. "I have come to seek vengeance for those of my tribe who were slaughtered by the men of General Mahakhi!"

The others atop the wall wrinkled their muzzles. "Captain Fe'kheru!" Djuta shouted back down. The rest of the Great Red Tribe Kana glanced at him. "There has been no slaughter by the Great Red Tribe upon your own. Our men fought off an attack by your tribe and defended our city! As I am certain any honorable Kana would do!"

"I have no way of knowing this," Fe'kheru replied. He continued pacing his Sha in front of the gate, the rest of his men standing patiently in formation. "As it stands, our men were set upon by your own as they attempted a raid meant in our own defense. We have had trouble with your sort before! Your men butchered our own and left their carcasses in the desert to rot!"

"What would you have had us do? Carry them home with us?" Tas'hukh snarled, digging his claws into the wall. Hiath'ikh grasped his arm to quiet him and Djuta spoke up again.

"Where is your general, Lord Fe'kheru, that a captain should be commanding the River Tribe on this mission? We noticed how he was nowhere to be seen during our last meeting, either! He does not deem this mission worthwhile enough--?"

"Our general is old and in ill health. Thus in the absence of Captain Sut'khut, whom your army has slain, I have assumed command of the army of the River Tribe." Fe'kheru's Sha paced to the side and then halted, facing the great double doors. Fe'kheru flared his wings. "You are too high in your position of power to speak with a captain, Lieutenant--?"

"Lieutenant Djuta," Djuta replied, "and no, I am not so high above you that I may not hear your words. I ask in the name of General Mahakhi that you return home. We have no fight with you, but the fight which you brought upon yourselves. All that we have done we have done in defense, whereas your men have done little more than attack and antagonize us. Captain Sut'khut got nothing more than what he deserved."

Even so far below, they could see Fe'kheru's nostrils flare. His Sha stamped a hoof. "This may very well be true," he said, "yet duty compels me to remain. We shall not leave until our revenge is complete. Only because my own men and I were away at the time of the assault, I am sure, are we alive even now, your general's slaughter was so complete!" He paused and appeared to attempt to gather himself, then continued, "I request to speak with General Mahakhi in person."

Tas'hukh's wings flared. "You do not have the right to make this request!" he snapped. "Your tribe did not grant this one the right to converse with your general before you attacked! How is it that the Great Red Tribe is expected to show such deference to dogs like you--?"

Fe'kheru scowled and put his hand on his sword. "Again, I request to speak with General Mahakhi," he shouted. "Should he refuse my request, my men and I shall beat down your doors and do to you exactly as you have done to us!" He pulled the reins on his Sha and it trotted back away from the gate. "Request that he come to the front gate immediately. I will give you five minutes!"

The Kana atop the wall stared at the retreating figure for a moment, before Hiath'ikh reached out and slapped Nehef's arm, startling him. Nehef rubbed at the stinging skin with some confusion.

"Go on!" Hiath'ikh snapped. "Go fetch him! You want them to knock down the wall?"

"Lord Mahakhi should not have to submit to the demands of these dogs!" Tas'hukh growled, as Nehef and Ahai'ikh hastened for the ladder. "There may be more of them, but we have defeated them before. We may do so yet again!"

"P-perhaps we should not act rashly," Tas'eta stammered. "I mean--with all due respect, Lords, I have no history with your tribe--yet from the looks of it, this River Tribe is well trained!"

Tas'hukh rounded on him with a snarl, sending him jerking back with a gasp. Binena stepped forward and placed his hand on Tas'eta's arm.

"Forgiveness for speaking out of my place, Lords, yet I believe Lord Tas'eta is correct. Whatever the state of the River Tribe may have been when you left them, they now appear to have regathered themselves."

Resikh frowned. "He is right...I can tell simply by looking at them. I had wondered why their attack was so long in coming."

"It was because they were training themselves to fight alongside their allies," Djuta muttered. "Of course...why I never thought of it, I have no idea."

"But who are these other Kana along with them--?" Hiath'ikh asked, brow furrowing as he attempted to recognize any faces. "How did they gain so much in numbers in such a short time--? As I recall it their history with most tribes is poor, so who would ally themselves with them--?"

"Someone with just as much of a reason to hate us," Resikh murmured uncertainly. "Perhaps allying with the River Tribe is simply the lesser of two evils for them."

"Your time runs short, Lords!" Fe'kheru shouted, drawing their attention. "Where is your general? He will not deign to save his tribe?"

"He approaches! Be patient!" Hiath'ikh barked, barely able to keep the panic out of his voice.

"Our general keeps himself busy with important matters," Resikh added.

"Like what?" a new voice shouted. "Tending to his harem of plump females?" A chorus of laughter echoed from the troops below. Fe'kheru frowned and glanced to the side, where the older of the two lieutenants sat atop his Sha; he flared his nostrils at those standing atop the wall. The Kana atop the gate scowled in return.

A third voice boomed from off to the side. "If you have anything more important of which to speak, then do it now before I lose my patience!"

Resikh, Djuta, and the rest jumped back with surprise. Mahakhi pushed his way along the wall, brushing down his clothes and glowering at the crowd below. Fe'kheru lifted his head to look up at him, frowning slightly.

"To whom do I speak?" he called.

Mahakhi's lip curled. "General Mahakhi of the Great Red Tribe! You forget your request so soon, Captain?"

Fe'kheru put his arm to his breast in a salute. "I am Captain Fe'kheru of the River Tribe," he returned, ignoring the insult.

Mahakhi didn't salute him in return, only wrinkled his muzzle in disgust and waved the rest of the Kana out of the way. "This I have already been told. What I have not been told is where your miraculous numbers come from. Am I to believe that you yourself dropped enough pups since our last conflict to flesh out your very own army?"

"General Mahakhi!" came the same voice as before, and the older lieutenant steered his Sha forward so it stopped slightly ahead of Fe'kheru's. He gave Mahakhi a cool look. "I am Lieutenant Elite She'hekha of the Yellow Sands Tribe. I myself was but a pup in the army when we last met. Perhaps you recall us?"

Mahakhi's look darkened. "Yes, I recall your tribe."

She'hekha stretched his wings and then folded them. "To the best of my memory, General, our last meeting resulted in the yellow sands running red with the blood of our men, due to the actions of your own. Upon hearing of your most recent assault upon Sut'khut's men we have decided to assist Lord Fe'kheru in his noble endeavor of wiping out the Great Red Tribe."

Mahakhi's muzzle wrinkled. "I see! So it is General Nehara's men who hire themselves out as mercenaries, now--? What is the matter, Lieutenant? Your general would so easily send off his men, yet he cannot afford to send with them a proper standard so that we might know who we face?"

She'hekha's own muzzle wrinkled. "Perhaps this is why you take so long coming to the gate--? You are off readying your petty little insults." He grasped his reins and guided his Sha back behind Fe'kheru. "We do not have such trivial things to worry ourselves over as you do. I do not care if our vengeance should come beneath the standard of another tribe, just so long as it is met!"

Mahakhi snarled. "Foolish dogs. At the very least the River Tribe can be named as noble fighters, with the possible exception of Sut'khut! Yet the Yellow Sands Tribe shall always be a tribe of cowards and Moru!"

She'hekha's calm reserve failed him, and his lip curled back in a snarl; the younger lieutenant scowled as well and reached for his sword. Fe'kheru held up one hand to still the fidgeting troops; She'hekha and the other lieutenant glanced at him, frowning, yet obeyed the gesture and stood down. As soon as they had fallen silent the captain held his head up to look Mahakhi in the eyes.

"I request that we be allowed entrance to the city to speak with the general in person. Perhaps by these means alone will we prevent a complete slaughter, and settle for an honorable battle! Which is more than what you granted us the last time we met!"

"Is he mad?" Tas'hukh exclaimed, just barely managing to keep his voice to a whisper.

Ahai'ikh, standing a bit behind Mahakhi, fidgeted. "Surely he can't be asking what I think he is! Allow them entrance to the city? Does he think we are foolish?"

Binena frowned. "I do not know...there is something to this custom, that makes me think he is being sincere." The other Kana looked at him and he turned to Mahakhi, saluting. "General. I believe it would be in your best interests to grant his request. I do not believe he will attack the city yet, so long as you comply."

Mahakhi glowered. "And upon what flimsy argument do you base this, Sergeant? I am hardly going to allow enemy soldiers within my settlement just because of a 'feeling' you have happened to get!"

"It is more than a feeling, Lord. I have witnessed similar acts in the past, and should you refuse him, I can guarantee that things will not go well for your tribe." Binena again saluted, bowing his head. "I ask again that you grant his request, for the sake of your own men."

The general stared at him in seeming disbelief for a few moments, before letting out a gusty sigh and turning back to the troops below. The scowl on his face didn't lessen as he addressed them again.

"Captain Fe'kheru. I will grant access to the city to you and your lieutenants. Your army however is to remain outside, under the watch of my army. Should the rest of your men attempt to follow you, my men will have every leave to slice their heads from their necks!"

The lieutenants immediately nudged their Sha toward Fe'kheru's and started whispering to him heatedly. Fe'kheru's expression turned mildly annoyed; he sat and appeared to listen to them for a moment, then sliced his hand through the air abruptly; the other two backed away a bit, the younger one looking startled and the older one frowning. The captain tilted his head before raising it again, his lappets bobbing.

"This is acceptable."

Mahakhi snorted and turned away from the gate, flicking his hand at the air. Nehef and Ahai'ikh motioned to the guards to bring the doors open even as the street just inside filled up with the rest of Mahakhi's troops, spears and swords at the ready. Mahakhi and the others descended from the wall to reach the ground just as Fe'kheru, She'hekha, and the second lieutenant rode through, eyeing the multitude of weapons pointed straight at them. The heavy doors swung back into place behind them with a thunderous boom, shutting out the remainder of Fe'kheru's men. The three enemy Kana stood surrounded by the Great Red Tribe, no direction open toward which to turn. Yet only the younger of the two lieutenants seemed mildly uneasy about this turn of events. Fe'kheru dismounted his Sha and turned to face Mahakhi, crossing his arm to his breast.

"General. If you will lead us to your war room we will follow and discuss matters there. I will not leave your tribe until my vengeance is sought, yet I am certain you wish to avoid a complete slaughter just as much as I do."

Mahakhi stared at the captain for a moment, nostrils flaring, before nodding sharply and turning away. He started off toward his household, the three enemy Kana relinquishing their Sha and following. Once more, they all returned to the great house, for the moment in an uneasy truce.

Continue:

"Part 50: Vicious" 


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