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Rated: XGC · Serial · Drama · #1163198
Djuta receives a shock, and far away, Nehef receives the same...
THE SUN FELT like flames running up and down Lieutenant Djuta's neck. He had to fight to keep his eyes open; even though he walked, it was as if his body acted automatically, with no forethought, and he had been trodding along for what felt to be ages. The rhythmic thud of the Sha's hooves lulled his senses, and he more than once snorted and shook his head abruptly, trying to clear it. By now, they had been wandering so long, it was a losing battle. It was only a matter of time before he would collapse in the sand and refuse to get up again.

Something nudged his arm and he jerked it back, as it was Ze'thet who walked off to that side, General Nehara and Yekh'iet being seated atop their Sha. Djuta blinked a few times and frowned; the female snorted and jiggled a waterskin at him.

"Drink," she ordered. "Don't need another stupid Kana to look out for."

He nearly had thoughts of calling her some sort of name, then sighed in resignation and took the skin. He took a deep drink, then turned back to hand it to Yekh'iet; she blushed but accepted it, taking a dainty sip and then looking mildly confused. He took it back, glanced at Nehara, then turned to face forward again.

Ze'thet sniggered. "Not such a stupid Kana after all."

"You may change your opinion of me yet," Djuta replied. "I was actually thinking of giving him some after we stop, just to spare the trouble of spilling it."

She snorted a bit, her enthusiasm seeming dulled by his confession, and faced forward as well.

The silence resumed, and he felt like fidgeting. He glanced skyward. He had never been much of one for conversation, it was true...yet walking for so long in the desert was beginning to take its toll on him. He would have felt like crawling up the cliffs, had they been near enough, and had he not been so exhausted; as it was, he didn't think he would be able to keep himself awake much longer. He rubbed his eyes and altered his breathing, taking deep breaths, but even that made him yawn after a while.

"You did not say what was going on back there," he said at last, and Ze'thet looked at him with a frown. "When I ran into you with Hakh'tas-Kana," he murmured, rubbing his eye again. "That unpleasant one who had you at the Moru quarters," he added as clarification, since she didn't seem to be getting him.

Ze'thet's muzzle wrinkled a bit. "Why do you give a rat's ass, prick?"

"I ask merely because I'm bored," Djuta admitted, "and you are the closest thing I have here to conversation, believe it or not."

She blinked, then let out a cackle. "Guess I have to believe it! A very sad day when a Kana hits me up for talk." She adjusted the strap on her dress...such as it was. "First tell me, who is this Hakh'tas-mutt and why he was diddling around with me--?"

"He happens to be the father of the one who bought you. Do not look so satisfied that you knocked him upside the head; the two of them do not get along."

Ze'thet snorted again. "Pity." She turned back to look into the desert.

Djuta's ear flicked. "And so--?"

Ze'thet yawned. "And so what? Stupid-ass Kana sees me, and is obviously jealous. Talks about that other prick like there's no tomorrow. Follows me into the Moru quarters, where the entire household full of pricks decides to stick me, and starts ranting like his brain is made of shit." Another yawn.

Djuta chewed his lip a little. "And then?" he prompted her when she seemed ready to lapse into silence again.

She cast him an odd look. "Are you getting off on this--?" When he scowled and jerked his head about in a gesture of no she smirked. "Maybe you will yet then. You want to know what the stupid-ass Kana does? Kisses me, like he owns me. OWNS me!" she echoed herself, loud enough to make Yekh'iet flinch atop her Sha. Ze'thet just snorted derisively and dusted her arm. "Says something about the pup-prick not being good enough or Kana enough to own a Moru. Would have belted him in the face for that, had I been able." She yawned and scratched between her breasts. "Instead, just tell him that at least the pup-prick can get it up; and what, he is too pussy to do such a thing? Because he's kissing me and groping like mad, but he is as limp as wet papyrus." She cackled again, making Djuta jump this time. "Damn...should have used that line on him. Anyway, suggest that he get his pup-prick to get him up. Then gets all huffy, and sticks his fingers inside me. Calls me a whore, and I say, 'At least I have the experience!' Then you come along, and I get to hit him in the head, and all ends happily." She yawned again. "The end."

Djuta was already wincing; she told her story as casually as Lieutenant She'hekha had spoken of Hakh'tas whipping and assaulting him. "I am sorry you went through this," he said, only belatedly thinking of how much the Free Apsiu hated sympathy, but all that she did was snort and lift her nose as if something smelled bad.

"Piffle compared to the pup-prick, and even he, he was not too remarkable. Must've learned from the father-prick." An ugly chuckle.

Djuta wondered if She'hekha had told her the truth about him or not, then decided not to bother asking. "You remind me of someone I know," he said instead, and when she scowled at him he said, "A female. Who once pretended to be male. You would not know her. But sometimes you remind me of her so much that I seriously wonder."

Ze'thet laughed loudly. "If you put her in my company, then she must be a remarkable female indeed!"

Djuta rolled his eyes. "Modesty was not her strong suit, either."

Ze'thet snorted. "Modesty is for pussies. Do you ever see modesty save anyone's life or kick anyone's ass? No? Then shut up about modesty because only pussies are modest."

"You're growing repetitious as well," Djuta said, and decided to end the conversation. He was awake again, but quite annoyed, and he couldn't decide if he preferred that or the old situation more. He turned to look back at Yekh'iet, rather wishing that they were in private; she hadn't been the best for conversation either, but at least she had not called him a foul name every few sentences. "Do you need another drink, Yekh'iet--? I do not wish you to spare yourself for our sakes--"

The Moru started to shake her head, then her eyes went wide. "Lord!" she yelled, and the Sha whose reins were tied to his belt jerked--he couldn't tell if she was talking to him or to Nehara. He glanced at Nehara to see that the general was staring ahead of them; his eyes widened briefly, then narrowed, and he hissed and started struggling as if attempting to reach his sword, even though Djuta had removed it. Then the fur on the back of his neck prickled, and he finally thought to whirl around.

The first thing he saw was Ze'thet, also whirling around to look at him--"WAKE UP, ASSHOLE--!!" she screamed--and the second thing he saw was what appeared to be the butt of a sword, right before it cracked him between the eyes.

Djuta let out a startled grunt and promptly collapsed upon the ground; the Sha let out a squeal and reared up, nearly trampling him. He whipped his sword loose and cut the leather strap tying them together, freeing himself--just in time, as only then did he spot a large silhouette just above him, raising its sword again. He rolled aside just as the blade of its sword gashed against the ground.

He jumped to his feet and held out his own sword, snarling; Ze'thet stood nearby, untouched, yet now that he had a chance to get a better look at things, he saw that they were surrounded already. Ze'thet gave him the ugliest snarl imaginable.

"What sort of KANA are you?" she rasped. "Falling asleep and walking us into an AMBUSH?"

"As if you did better!" Djuta snapped, then gasped and raised his sword to block a blow from the big Kana--he was almost twice his size, tall and broad to match, not nearly as bulky as Mahakhi but still formidable. His fur was dark brown, nearly black, which made him look enough like Mahakhi to make Djuta take pause. Then the Kana snarled and swung at him again, just missing taking off a lappet. He wore the lappets of a lieutenant himself, but Djuta did not recognize the symbols upon them; he ground his teeth and cursed his luck, to wander into enemy territory while fleeing enemy territory.

"We have no fight with your people, Brother!" he shouted, knowing that he was taking a big risk by addressing the other Kana so--but perhaps he had a refined sense of honor. "All we wish is to pass right through!"

"A stupid request, Brother!" the big Kana said, in an odd accent which Djuta also couldn't identify. His voice was deep and booming--not as thick or authoritative as Mahakhi's, but impressive enough. "Considering that ALL of this territory is ours!"

"You can hardly tell me you own the desert--!" Djuta gasped, parrying a particularly hard blow and skipping back. "Everyone knows the desert is free territory!"

The Kana let out a huffing sound which might have been a laugh. "Try telling that to everybody, then!" He came running then, flaring his wings and letting out a yell; Djuta dodged aside, only for the Kana to whip his leg out and trip him at the last moment. He fell onto his elbows with a pained wince, then a kick sent him rolling; his Sha squealed again and scurried away.

Djuta's lip curled back and he growled, grasping his sword and rolling over. He met the other Kana's eyes--they were pale brown, a fact which made him blink and nearly lose his focus--then raised the sword and went running at him with a furious yell. The other Kana blinked now, seeming taken aback, and didn't even shield himself. Djuta aimed the sword at his chest.

An odd, harsh screeching sound made him halt in his tracks, and his eyes went wide--he suddenly remembered the others--and without a thought he whirled back around. Ze'thet went running, her dagger raised, when something struck her across the face--Djuta was too confused yet to tell what was going on--and then she fell. He sucked in a breath when he saw a sword leveled at her own throat, the Free Apsiu gasping for breath and blinking in bewilderment. His own eyes traveled upward and he now took in the sight of the second Kana standing over her. His stare--cold gray-blue--was fixed on Djuta's, as if he'd been staring at him all along. His features were young, perhaps around Djuta's age, but the red lappets of a captain trailed over his shoulders. The thing that held Djuta's attention the most was the fact that he had only one eye. His muzzle wrinkled slightly as if something smelled bad.

"Perhaps you'd best rethink your strategy," he said in a voice much like Nehara's, yet just slightly rougher, and the tip of his sword poked the hollow of Ze'thet's throat.

Djuta's grip loosened a little and he started to lower his sword.

Ze'thet's muzzle wrinkled now. "Stupid PRICK!" she hissed. "Just slit his gut open already! Like I give a damn losing my head!!"

She let out a wheezing sound when the sword poked her hard enough to draw blood, and Djuta's hackles prickled when the captain leaned down toward her. "I suggest you lie still, whore, like you're accustomed to doing!" he hissed in her face, at which Ze'thet, of course, began screeching and struggling, not even minding the blood starting to trickle down her neck.

"Let her be!" Djuta barked; the captain looked up at him, and he dropped his sword. Ze'thet stopped fighting, but she did begin growling, glaring at him venomously. "You're free to take me, but you have no use for females! Let them go!"

The captain sneered. "No use for females--? Have you been wandering in the desert too long?" He jerked his head at a few of the other Kana surrounding them--before now, they hadn't involved themselves in the fight in the least--and they came forward. A moment later they had surrounded the other two Sha, and Nehara was pulled down to stand amongst them. He snarled and flared his hobbled wings as best as he could; Djuta felt a twinge of relief to see that at least Yekh'iet was left untouched, although she did peer around herself anxiously, then gave him an aggrieved look. The captain glanced up at her as well, then back down at Ze'thet, and smirked.

"I rather think either one of them would be useful," he jeered.

Djuta turned to face the first Kana, who still stood where he'd been left. He called me "Brother" just as I called him, he thought feverishly. Perhaps he's a slightly better sort than this one--? "The code of the Kana!" he snapped, making the big Kana blink and stare at him. "Moru in the company of a Kana who surrenders peaceably are to be treated properly! They are not to be injured or humiliated!"

The big Kana just blinked. Djuta heard the captain snort. "As if any Kana in his right mind obeys this--?" he retorted. "Name one incident you can think of, Lieutenant, when a Kana bowed to the wishes of a Moru! I do not know what code you quote but the code I have grown up with states that when a Kana surrenders, all that is his is the victor's to do with as he pleases!"

"Cocksucker!" Ze'thet snarled.

Djuta's claws dug into his palm and he readied himself to make a dive for his sword--he knew he would have the big Kana's sword impaled in his spine before he could even lift it again, but anything was better than just letting them get away with this--

"Lord Zasa!" the big Kana called out just as his muscles tensed to jump. His head jerked up and he saw the other lieutenant take a step forward. He was staring at the captain.

"The old code of Kai'en-Kana!" he shouted. "'When a Kana in duress submits to the enemy, as a Kana of honor would do, all that is his, Moru and men, are treated as those of the victor'! From the days following the defeat of Lord-King Set's army at the hands of the usurper, from the mouth of the good Captain Kai'en-Kana!"

Djuta glanced at the captain. Now he was blinking, his brow furrowing in confusion. "What--?" he blurted out, then bared his teeth. "What sort of garbage is this--?"

"It is the true old code, Lord," the big Kana answered. "The same code that your father and mine as well followed!"

"My father followed no such code!" Zasa shot back, digging his claws into the grip of his sword. "You expect me to pamper the whores of some trespasser--?"

"He is not a trespasser, Lord," the big Kana said, and pointed right at Djuta. "Look into his face again!"

Djuta's brow furrowed. Zasa did the same, again, and turned to look at him. Djuta stared back, uncertain of what to do or of what this all might mean--but at least they were all still in one piece. Zasa stared at him for a moment or two, then something that looked like recognition began to dawn in his eye; he pulled his sword away from Ze'thet's neck and came stalking toward him. Djuta bristled and reached out for his own sword--only to feel something press into his fingers. He looked down to see that he already held the weapon--the big Kana was taking a step back, and he met Djuta's eyes when the lieutenant gave him a confused look. He turned to Zasa once more to see how his mouth had fallen open in disbelief.

Zasa's mouth moved wordlessly, then snapped shut with a clack and he started growling. "What are you doing, I'enua--?" he hissed between his teeth.

"I owe him," Lieutenant I'enua said, and now Djuta's mouth fell open. The big Kana stepped forward and raised his own sword. "If you come after him," he said, "then you also come after me."

Djuta glanced at the others. Ze'thet seemed just as mystified as he was; Nehara's look was beyond insulted by the way he'd been treated, yet held a touch of perplexity as well. Yekh'iet's look was guarded. Zasa seemed most surprised of all.

"WHAT?" he bellowed, making several of the other Kana flinch a little.

"The blood debt, Lord," I'enua replied. "You know very well how it is. This, also, is according to the old code of Kai'en-Kana, which your father followed to the letter, as well as mine."

Zasa started snarling. "I DO NOT CARE ABOUT SOME CODE!" he screamed, nearly flinging his sword down. "Did the code serve my father--? Did it serve YOURS--? When did your BRAIN turn to mush, you stupid mewling--?"

"Your father followed the code to his very last day!" another Kana said, taking a step forward; Djuta glanced at him to see that he appeared to be older than the rest of them, a scar lining his muzzle, which wrinkled. "He was a Kana of honor, and would never think of mistreating Moru, or of violating a blood debt."

"There IS no damned blood debt here!" Zasa shot back.

"My own father declared it," I'enua said. "You wish to contend it, then you may issue a challenge. But this must be done according to the code as well. Not in the midst of combat, but before the tribunal. If you wish to challenge my claim then we do it back in the tribe."

Zasa started making huffing sounds, wings flaring and hackles prickling. "You have ALL lost your fucking MINDS!" he shrieked, before whirling away and storming back the way that Djuta assumed he'd come. Ze'thet leapt up to her feet and dashed after him, dagger raised; Djuta's mouth opened while I'enua merely raised an eyebrow.

Ze'thet started letting out an awful scream. Just as she reached the captain, he turned around and promptly backhanded her so that she collapsed to the ground in a heap. Djuta bristled, half out of fury, half out of surprise; he was almost tempted to run to her and help her up, but she was already pushing herself upright, wiping at her bleeding mouth and growling. Zasa just kept walking, apparently ignoring them now.

"Dickheaded cunt!" Ze'thet hissed. "Think he broke my damned tooth!"

Djuta found his claws digging gouges into his palm. He tensed and nearly pulled his sword when he felt something grasp his arm; when he whirled toward I'enua the bigger Kana took a step back, raising his hands. Djuta blinked. His sword had been placed back in its scabbard. When he met the other Kana's eyes, they were open and no longer hostile.

I'enua gestured in the direction that Zasa had gone, the rest of the Kana now starting to filter off after him. "I expect him to challenge my claim," he said. "The only way he may do so is if you are present. If you come back to the tribe, I can assure your safety as long as you stay in my company."

Djuta frowned, keeping his grip on his sword. "And the reason why we should follow total strangers into the midst of their tribe--? When at least one of them is already inclined to gut us like fish--?"

I'enua rolled his eyes. "That is Zasa. He is a baby when he does not get his way." He put an arm to his breast and bowed his head. "I am Lieutenant I'enua...of the Sand Wind Tribe. We live just to the west, not far from the cliffs. There is a spring in the rocks, which keeps us fed and watered in such a place. You must forgive the hostility; we do not welcome many in such a place, so we assumed you were enemies."

"As far as I am concerned, we are," Djuta said. "At least with such a greeting as this. I told only the truth. We're on our way back to our own tribe and wished merely to pass through. What all this deal is with a blood debt, and a challenge, and whatnot, I haven't a clue and I do not care to know. You can hardly involve me in your tribe's affairs."

"With respect, Brother," I'enua said, "you are already involved." He gestured again. "As I said," he said, "as long as you are in my company, you--and your party--will be safe. But I am heading back to the tribe. And if you stay out here, without me, I can hardly assure your safety." He turned away. "We have much better food and drink than the likes of what you appear to be carrying...and if all goes well with this challenge, and Zasa's argument is overthrown, you are welcome to take some along with you."

Djuta stood and watched him and the rest of the Kana walk away, in a roughly southwestern direction. He started when Ze'thet hurried after them, and held out one hand. "Ze'thet--! What are you doing--? I thought you hated them!"

Ze'thet stopped just long enough to make a face at him. "Free beer, dumbass!" she snapped, and then went on her way. Djuta was left gaping after them; then he started huffing just as Zasa had been, before reaching back to grab hold of Nehara's cords and the Sha's reins, yanking them along after him with a scowl.

* * * * *


The Sand Wind Tribe wasn't quite what Djuta had expected. I'enua hadn't been lying when he'd said it wasn't far from the cliffs...but apparently, he had been understating this fact. The tribe sprawled out of the cliffs, half outside them and half within a large crevasse in the rock; even the mudbrick wall was cut in half, leading straight up to the cliff itself. Some younger Kana were busy outside the walls, but they promptly turn and ran as soon as they spotted the newcomers; a moment later, older Kana were pouring out of the gate, and gathering atop the walls. An alert sounded, so Djuta could tell that they hardly felt threatened; he glanced at his tiny party and bit the inside of his mouth. Of course they wouldn't feel threatened. He was the one who should feel thus.

Captain Zasa was far ahead of them by now, and he snapped something and jerked his hand at one of the guards at the gate; the other Kana furrowed his brow but waved at those atop the wall to open the doors. As I'enua and Djuta came near, he glanced at them, and his eyes widened when he saw Djuta. He turned and hastened back inside without a word, leaving Djuta furrowing his own brow.

He peered at I'enua. "There is something going on here that I should know...?" he murmured. "I rather get the feeling that all of you were expecting us."

I'enua shrugged. "Yes and no, Brother. It is a bit complicated."

"You should hardly call me 'Brother' seeing as we met with our swords at each other's throat!"

"You are the one who used the word first, Brother. I merely consider it an honor. But if you want me to call you Lieutenant, I will."

"Honor?" Djuta echoed, frowning. I'enua didn't explain. They passed inside the tribe, and Djuta glanced at the Moru and Kana lining the main road, most of whom stared at him for a moment before hurrying off and whispering or chattering with others who hadn't arrived yet. He didn't like the amount of attention they were drawing, but at least no one seemed interested in attacking them, as Zasa had been.

Ze'thet was licking her teeth. "Better be good beer," she threatened no one in particular. "Need it to get rid of the pain in my mouth. Should bite his cock off and spit it out and make HIM stir his beer with it!" She opened her mouth wide and cackled, making Djuta and I'enua both grimace.

Djuta sighed and rubbed at his eye. "With respect, Brother," I'enua said, "you mind if I ask why it is that the group of you were out in the desert in the first place--? You look able enough to care for yourself, and I would not bother to mess with that atrocious female, but a hobbled general, and a wispy little Moru...you must be aware of how dangerous these parts are, surely?"

"We are seeking a way back to my old tribe," Djuta said, not wanting to go into details with a stranger. "The story does not need to be told."

I'enua shrugged again. "Very well...though you may indeed seek an alternate route away from here, if you wish to remain in one piece. As soon as this challenge is over with, then I will find a good route."

"What is all the mess with this 'challenge'?" Djuta asked, growing irritated; I'enua peered at him, one eyebrow arching. Djuta's muzzle wrinkled. "You plan to get me involved in all your affairs and I have not an idea what's even going on! You expect me to just go along with it?"

"You invoked the code of Kai'en," I'enua said, looking a bit puzzled. "I assumed you understood."

Djuta let out a flustered sigh. "Just because I can bring up some moldy old code to save our hides doesn't mean I know what's going on! Perhaps you'd best explain it for me, since you all seem to do things differently here!"

I'enua stared at him for a moment, then lifted one shoulder. "Very well. I will assume you do not know the whole code, and remember only the part that saved your hide. There is more to the code than just this, Brother. The code also states the rules of dispute among honorable Kana. Most Kana still follow these rules to this day even without being aware from whence the rules came. Most of our existing laws stem from the days of Kai'en-Kana. He is to some of us as Leader Antakh was to the Free Apsiu."

"Is to the Free Apsiu!" Ze'thet suddenly snapped, making them both jump. She gave I'enua a malevolent glare. "Ass!" She turned away again and started muttering under her breath.

I'enua raised both brows this time. "Is, then," he corrected himself, then turned back to Djuta. "In any event...part of the code governs the rules of dispute. Should a Kana wish to challenge another Kana's claim to the blood debt, he can only do so before the tribunal, those wisest of the tribe. Zasa-Kana is not a member of the tribunal. As much as it pains him to do so, if he wishes to contend my claim then he must see to them first."

"I fail to understand this 'blood debt' issue," Djuta said.

"You do not have this concept among your tribe?" I'enua asked in genuine surprise; Djuta shook his head and he snorted. "Most strange! I truly wonder how you get anything settled!" He peered skyward and appeared to be gathering his thoughts. "Well...how easiest to put it. A blood debt is an agreement between two or more Kana. Generally, if one Kana pledges his services or loyalty to another, and is unable to meet this obligation, he and his family are placed in blood debt to the other Kana and his family. It does not matter how long it takes for the debt to be paid. If the two Kana should die, their kin carry on in their place until it is paid. It may take one year, it may take a hundred."

"You mean simply an obligation?" Djuta asked, puzzled. "Where I am from, this is met by the Kana in question, or it is not--it goes no further than this. How can dead Kana uphold their obligations to each other? Even through their families? It makes no sense."

I'enua shrugged again. "It makes perfect sense to us, Brother, though perhaps this is because we still practice it, whereas your people do not."

"What has this to do with us?"

"Well, it so happens that I am in blood debt to you," I'enua replied. "And so any challenge Zasa imposes on you, I am ready to meet myself. This is part of the payment owed. I doubt Zasa can think up anything nearly enough to make me pay it in full, however hard he may try."

Djuta's brow furrowed. "You owe me a blood debt?" he echoed, confused. "But...did you not just say that these are things that pass along for generations? I've never met you until this day, have I?"

I'enua shook his head. "No, we have never met."

"Then how is it that you are indebted to me?"

"I am indebted to you in lieu of my father," I'enua replied. "Who was indebted to your father."

Djuta could only stare at him blankly. Little bits and pieces began falling in his mind--in no particular order, but he felt some sense in them. "My father...?" he echoed, his voice soft. When I'enua nodded his brow furrowed again, just a little bit, as he was too numb to do much else. "You knew my father?"

I'enua shrugged a little. "Actually...it was my father who knew him. They were good friends."

"But...how do you even know--?" Djuta asked, confused.

"Your eyes," I'enua said. "You have the same eyes as your father. And your name, as well. He bore the same name. General Djuta."

Djuta's step slowed to a halt and he gaped at I'enua in disbelief; the other Kana slowed to a stop as well and turned back to face him, crossing his arms as if he'd expected this reaction. "General Djuta?" Djuta echoed, still not quite able to comprehend it.

I'enua frowned. "You mean you do not remember your own father?" he asked.

Djuta slowly shook his head. "No...I...I do not remember when I was a pup...I only remember the tribe I joined after..."

"After what?"

Djuta lost his voice when he realized that he had no answer. "I...I do not know," he admitted at last. "I do not remember anything...nothing but sand."

There was a very long pause as the two of them stared at each other. After a while a small smile came to I'enua's face, and he stepped toward him.

"Then you do remember," he said, simply. He turned and gestured. "Come. I will tell you everything you need to know."

Djuta could only stare after him for a moment before following, his head hazy and his thoughts jumbled beyond belief.

* * * * *


Djuta disliked the thought of leaving Ze'thet, but as it turned out, he found her at the same place that I'enua led him and the others, a few other Kana taking control of Nehara and of Yekh'iet's Sha. Djuta couldn't help but glance at the Yellow Sands general once in a while; the look in his eyes was dark but shielded, and he had no way of knowing what he must be thinking. He decided that he didn't want to know.

"Do not let the emptiness of the place fool you," I'enua stated as they entered a tavern, Ze'thet already seated within, guzzling from a jar of beer. "Tap's serves what is likely the best beer in the tribe...when people are not too busy to stop in. Tap! I bring someone to meet you."

Djuta cocked his head a little. A thin shape shuffled out of the back room, rubbing its hands together; Djuta frowned a little when the old Kana lifted his head and met his eyes, but as soon as he did, the other Kana's--Tap's?--eyes went wide and his jaw fell open. One hand grasped at his chest and Djuta feared that he might keel over at any moment.

"Djuta-Kana!" he exclaimed in a breathless voice; Djuta could only blink. Then the old Kana was hurrying toward him, and grasped onto his arms before he could even think to pull back. "I knew it! I KNEW you were alive somewheres! I had hoped you would return but I never in a million years actually thought you WOULD!"

Djuta blinked again. "Easy now," I'enua coaxed, prying Tap's fingers loose of Djuta's arms; the lieutenant had to rub at them, certain that he'd been bruised. "Calm down a bit. He's still taking it all in himself."

Tap clapped his hands gleefully. "I will fetch you the very best beer!" He turned around to hurry toward the back room.

Djuta bristled in disgust. "I do not like beer!" he growled, earning a sputter from Ze'thet, who wiped her mouth.

"What sort of self-respecting Kana doesn't like BEER?" she exclaimed, then opened her mouth and let out a great belch. Djuta and I'enua both grimaced again, but she merely rapped the empty jar against the table. "More beer, old man! Else I will piss in your jars, let it ferment, and make YOU drink it! And then I shall call you Piss-Drinker!" She cackled. "Piss-Drinker Piss-Drinker Piss-Drinker!!"

Tap clasped his hands together again with a very strange ear-to-ear smile. "Ah...such pleasant company! The best beer for your friend--and the best wine for you..." He disappeared into the back room.

Djuta rubbed his head. "She will be taken care of...?" he murmured, peering at Yekh'iet; she was standing closer to the door, her hands folded and her stare on the floor. She looked so miserable and lonely that he rather wished he'd left her behind; surely She'hekha wouldn't have let her come to harm.

"Of course," I'enua replied. "Anything that is a concern of yours is a concern of mine."

"Perhaps you can start explaining this entire thing now," Djuta said, and they sat down at a low table near Ze'thet, who was now singing a vulgar song as she tapped her jar against her own table. "Because no offense to you, but I rather prefer knowing things before heading into them as if in the dark."

"Of course," I'enua said again, Tap returning with his arms full of jars. "Though it may take a bit, seeing as you remember only the beginning..."

Tap gave Ze'thet her jar first, flinching but forcing a cheery smile when she threw her empty jar at the wall, cackling as it shattered. "I said that all I remember is sand," Djuta corrected the other lieutenant. "How is sand a 'beginning'? How does any of this make sense? You mean to tell me that my father was once leader of this tribe?" He paused, frowning. "This very tribe?"

"I admit it sounds like an odd coincidence that you should find us," I'enua said. "Yet the gods work in strange ways."

Tap nudged the jar of wine closer to Djuta and stooped down to look into his face, making Djuta flinch back. The old Kana merely grinned and held his hand up at about shoulder level for Djuta. "I recall when you were this tall!" he exclaimed. "Just a tiny mite! But already so strong and proud! I know your father would be proud of you if he were here!"

Djuta stared at him for a brief second before he felt his wings begin to sink. He turned to look at I'enua, and saw the apologetic look in his eyes. "He is dead, then...?" he asked softly, not knowing why it suddenly pained him so, yet it did.

"I am sorry, Brother," I'enua replied quietly. "He was killed in a dispute with another Kana."

"You mean he does not remember--?" Tap asked, furrowing his brow. He looked at Djuta again. "You mean--you do not even remember me--?" When Djuta shook his head the old Kana's confusion grew. "You would come here with your father all the time! Your father did not like you drinking beer back then, so I would give you little honeycakes to chew on. You never even caused trouble like other Kana tots. Always so well behaved! Your brothers always did all the fussing..."

"Brothers--?" The word shot out of Djuta's mouth like an arrow; instantly he was on his feet again, clenching his fists and gaping at Tap. Tap took a step or two back, biting his lip and fiddling his fingers; he cast an anxious look at I'enua, but I'enua merely nodded. He met Djuta's eyes again and nodded himself.

"Well...yes! Karna and Taya. Always so noisy and bothersome! Very unlike you..."

"I have brothers?" Djuta turned back to I'enua. "I have other family--? Besides my father?"

"I'en!" Tap exclaimed. "He doesn't recall a thing--?"

I'enua merely nodded, ignoring the old Kana. "Karna left the tribe long ago to head north," he said. "I have not heard from him in ages. Taya, I am not certain what became of him...they are not here. I apologize that you cannot meet them." Djuta sank again, huddling down beside the table and letting out his breath. I'enua leaned forward and nudged at the wine jar. "But I am still here, and can tell you of what happened that you've forgotten," he offered, and Djuta managed to force a small nod. "You said that you recall sand. This is in fact where it began and ended."

"I do not appreciate riddles," Djuta murmured, staring at his drink listlessly.

"I tell you no riddles, Brother, for I respect you too well for that. I will try to keep it short and unelaborate." He took a sip of his beer, now ignoring Ze'thet's singing. "Your father was a good leader of this tribe," he started. "So much so that many loved him. But not all. One of the captains challenged his claim to the position and sought to have him removed. Yet none were willing to back his challenge. He became quite infuriated. He would challenge your father to fights every time they met, but your father was a noble sort and did not believe in fighting over such petty things, when his position was assured. So this other Kana had no recourse to attaining that position himself.

"Your father was accustomed to taking you and your brothers into the desert to train. It is quiet out there, and there are no distractions. One may focus. Your father was smart enough to know this. You were too young yet to be training in the barracks, like your brothers were. So he would see to your training himself. One day, he set out with you, and you had your new sword. And his rival followed the two of you."

He fell silent; Djuta waited, then peered up at the other Kana to see what was wrong. He was surprised to see that I'enua's eyes had gone slightly wet, though he didn't cry. Instead he rubbed at them and let out a sigh.

"My father was quite close to your father. He served him faithfully, always. He knew of the bad blood between your father and his rival, and would have accompanied Djuta-Kana himself had he been able. Yet he was busy with other things, and was not aware that the two of you had left. By the time that he found out, and went racing off after you, it was too late. What exactly happened, I must guess from what your father's rival bragged about himself, and from what my father told me. From the looks of it, the captain accosted your father in the desert and again demanded a fight. Your father had nowhere left to go but further into the desert, or straight at his rival's sword. Your father was no coward, and he had you to protect, and so he was forced to accept this challenge--such as it was--and fight for the both of you. Why you claim you do not recall this, when surely you were there, confuses me."

He fell silent again, peering at Djuta; Djuta didn't speak. He stared at the tabletop. Vague images flashed in his head...sand...the glint of metal...a bared tusk, even the snap of an angry voice in his ears...but he couldn't piece it together. "Please continue," he murmured, and I'enua did so.

"I must assume that your father told you to stay back," he said, "as he was not one to put his pups in danger. There were two wounds to his body." He sipped his drink. "My father guessed that his rival managed to stab him once with his sword...and then again, before he could get a blow in...normally your father was most skilled with this weapon, and he had been training you himself, hence your own skills...but I guess he was overpowered this time...and it grows hazy here, as when he was found, you were no longer there..."

Djuta was barely listening anymore. The sight of sand--seemingly unending sand--faded into his mind again--and then shadows, moving upon it. He heard a harsh clanging sound, and turned his head to see two impossibly giant Kana struggling together. It took him a moment to realize that they were not giant--he was small--and he had to move back as they fought, their swords locked. Almost before he knew it, the Kana facing him pulled back and thrust his sword forward, into the Kana with his back to Djuta. Djuta saw his spine stiffen and his wings flare wide before the first Kana pulled his sword back, hate glinting in his eyes; the Kana whose face he could not see fell to one knee with a thud--and then Djuta felt his legs moving as he ran toward him, and felt his hand reach out, and felt something grasping it, claws digging into his palm. The kneeling Kana lifted his head to meet his eyes--and Djuta saw that his were strange and bronze, wide and fearful, an emotion which for some reason didn't look right in them.

"Djuta," a hoarse voice in his head said, as the strange Kana's mouth moved. The claws dug into him deeper. "Go. Run. He'll kill you."

They stared at each other for a brief moment which seemed to go on forever, then he looked up at the other Kana. He still stood looming over them both, sword at his side and dripping red; his eyes, strangely familiar themselves, were the most spiteful he'd ever seen, and his muzzle wrinkled slightly as if something smelled bad. The claws dug into Djuta's hand once more, then let him go, and he felt something shove against his shoulder, propelling him away from them; he had to flap his wings to avoid losing his balance. He started running--it felt oddly difficult, as if his legs wouldn't bend right, and when he looked down at them he saw how short they were, how short he was--but after a moment he managed to pick up speed, using his wings to balance himself as he went. He glanced back just once. The kneeling Kana was pushing himself to his feet, his sword drawn, and he saw the two of them stare at each other in mutual hate--before he turned away again, and kept running.

The sand went on forever...an endless expanse of sand and more sand...

The sight faded from his eyes, though the sting of the burning sand against his feet still lingered; he reached down to rub at one absently. I'enua, seeing his reaction, spoke. "My father somehow missed crossing paths with your father's rival," he said softly. "He reached your father...he was lying in the desert...two sword stabs to his breast. His eyes were still open...and there were little tracks leading off into the north. He wanted to look for you then--he was worried that you had been hunted down and killed as well, perhaps from the sky, as there were no tracks following you--but he could not leave your father. So he lifted him and carried him all the way back to the tribe. Your father's rival was already there, crowing about what he had done." His damp eyes grew hard and his own muzzle wrinkled slightly as he clutched his drink tighter. "There were only a few, fortunately, who crowed with him. The rest...were not so happy. Your father had been a good general. A rare general, from what my father said...all Apsiu should be so fortunate to have such generals. He was good to all his men, all his mates and pups and Moru...the only fault to be found in him was the envy he inspired in others. As it turns out, he was simply too good." He sighed and his wings slumped slightly. "When my father returned, with Djuta-Kana's body, he raised his voice so loudly that he drowned out that of your father's rival...all noticed him...as soon as they saw your father, they raised their voices as well...I was quite little then, and did not understand what was happening, but I knew the sound of mourning when I heard it...it filled the entire tribe...I can never forget that sound to this very day. I raised my voice myself, although I did not know for whom I mourned." He paused, staring into his drink. "Your father was taken further into this opening in the cliffs and interred. My father went to see to his remains until the day he died. Since then, I have taken up this duty, as well as the blood debt that he left behind him. He searched for you, also, as long as his wings held out. Of course we could not find you. Your tracks died away as the wind blew across the sand. He risked his life, visiting with neighboring tribes to ask if you had been taken in; yet none had even seen you." His mouth twitched. "I am ashamed to say it, but I resented you, somewhat, as I grew up. My father spent such time on you that I felt he did not care about his own son. Yet as I grew older, I at last came to understand why it meant so much to him that you be found, and that the debt be paid. Since then I have thought of you as my own invisible brother. My father never stopped believing that you were alive, and would be found someday...yet I must confess that many times, I figured you could not have survived. Still, I had hopes that you were out there somewhere." He looked at his drink again. "Please forgive me, Brother, for assuming the worst. I would have sought after you myself if I had known you were truly alive."

"You do not need my forgiveness," Djuta said. "I would not have blamed you. I must have walked for ages...for this sand is the only thing I've remembered for years."

"Perhaps it is best then that your father trained you in the desert, so you would be acclimated to such a thing," I'enua suggested, a slight smile coming to his face. "In any case...this is the true tale...and now you are back, and things are right again. Now I may serve out the blood debt to you, just as my father pledged to your father."

"You owe me nothing," Djuta insisted.

I'enua shook his head and lifted his jar to his mouth. "Apologies, Brother, but this is not the way it works. The blood debt is voided only once it is met."

"What if, as the debt, I ask you to drop the debt?" Djuta asked.

The other Kana's mouth twitched again. "Sorry...it does not work that way."

Djuta sighed and sank back a bit, running his claw along his jar. "You said my father was good to his men and his Moru," he said, I'enua pricking an ear. "There were others, then? Other family? What of my mother--?"

I'enua was already shaking his head. "Your father's rival seized control of his household as quickly as he could and sold off many of the Moru to a visiting tribe...very bad timing...he was stopped, thankfully, before any harm could come to your brothers, and my father took them in to raise them until they were of the proper age to see to themselves. I can only assume that your mother was among those sold...apologies, Brother, that I haven't better news than this."

"And so all of the Moru were traded away then?" Djuta asked, his heart sinking.

I'enua nodded, then frowned a little. "Well...not all of them...a few made it to traders within the tribe...and there was that one he left out in the wild..."

Djuta blinked, then sat upright again. "What--?" he snapped, earning looks from I'enua and Tap, who was at the far side of the room, tying a cloth over a jar. "What do you mean, left in the wild?"

I'enua shrugged a little. "It was an odd little tale my father told me...when a Moru pup was born to your father and one of his other mates. A girl Moru. My father was present when she was lifted from her mother's womb. He said that she kicked and screamed and wailed fit to raise the dead." A smile tugged at his mouth again. "Your father was evidently impressed with her...I do not know how true this all is, mind you. My father claimed that he vowed such a lusty pup would never end up as anybody's slave, at least not without tearing their eyes out, or screaming them deaf. He saw spirit in her. My father said that he left the tribe to bring her to the edge of one of the nearest oases--quite far from here--and left her in the shade of a rock. Supposedly some Free Apsiu dwelled in the area, and likely took her in...I do wish that I could even remember her name...Zeh-something. I know it started with the same sound as Zasa's."

Djuta's look began to grow very strange now as he stared at I'enua. He slowly turned his head in the opposite direction. Ze'thet was singing some song now about a fat Kana and a Sha's penis, swaying from side to side and braying loudly enough to make even Tap wince. She finished the verse with a cackling laugh and downed her jar of beer before rapping it on the table and screaming, "MORE, DICKHEAD!!" before letting out another belch, and then crowing again. She lowered her head and blinked as soon as she saw him looking at her, then her muzzle wrinkled in an ugly sneer.

"See something you like, Kana--?" she challenged, hiccupping.

All I am aware of is that when she was caught, she was yelling some nonsense about being the brat of some important Apsiu...some general or something. It did not make much sense...

My father was a GENERAL! See if YOU can claim such a thing, mutt...!


Djuta felt his eyes start to grow, almost ready to fall from his head. He remembered the strange looks that Yekh'iet and Nehara had given the two of them when they'd wrinkled their muzzles at each other--then he hurriedly turned away, gawking at the table with his mouth hanging wide open and his hackles prickling. I'enua stared at him curiously, peered at Ze'thet, then back at Djuta. He raised an eyebrow, seeming mildly amused.

"Let me guess...her name is Zeh-something...?"

"Do not ask," Djuta grated, and hurriedly downed his wine, hiccupping himself. "Do not even ask!!" He made an awful face, then grimaced, all of his teeth showing. I'enua paused before nudging his own jar forward, and Djuta grabbed it up and downed it as well. He shook his head and tried to get the visions of her breasts and vulva out of his mind, with only minimal success.

I'enua started to smile. "It looks like you like beer more than you thought. I will have Tap bring you another wine." He lifted their empty jars in Tap's direction, then set them down again. Djuta rubbed at his suddenly aching head, still grimacing.

"A change of subject," he said, voice breaking a little. "Perhaps a change of subject would be good."

I'enua nodded. "I am always open to a change of subject, Brother."

"I wish to know how this feud concerning my father and his rival was resolved. Is it still ongoing? Must I end up competing with this Kana myself, now that I am here?"

"Do not worry about him," I'enua replied. "He too is long dead. He attempted, as I said, to gain your father's position after Djuta-Kana's death...but none in the tribe would support this claim. The tribunal threatened him with a trial if he attempted to take control of the tribe alone. And so despite all his efforts, it was for nothing. My father said that perhaps his own frustration and bitterness killed him. Whatever the case," and he sipped at the fresh jar of beer that Tap had brought him, "the Sand Wind Tribe has not had a general since."

Djuta's grimace vanished, and he furrowed his brow, perplexed. "You have no general--?" When I'enua shook his head his confusion grew. "Who then leads you here?"

"That would be Zasa." I'enua made a face, then met Djuta's eyes. "The son of your father's rival."

Djuta nearly choked on his drink, coughing a little and shaking his head. He looked up at I'enua with the same perplexed expression as before; the other lieutenant just continued sipping his beer.

"Perhaps now you understand why he dislikes you so much, when the two of you have never met," he murmured. "He blames your father for his father's death."

Djuta set his jar down with a clink. "But his father killed my father! Am I not the one who should bear a grudge--?"

I'enua lifted a shoulder. "Zasa-Kana's father did not live too much longer after the murder. As I said, some say it was his own bitterness that killed him, ate away at his ka and left nothing behind. Zasa fully believes he would be alive today if not for how much everyone loved your father. This is also why he detests the grand tribunal--if not for their threats his father would have been general. He is not a very content Kana; there is nothing anymore that keeps him happy, not even a pretty Moru."

Djuta opened his mouth, then shut it and winced when Ze'thet spoke up from her table, apparently listening in now. "You mean to say that pig-prick has no mates to hump at--?" she barked; when I'enua frowned but nodded she hiccupped a third time. "What, 's he some kind of sen'akha--?" She curled the thumb and forefinger of one hand into an O and stuck her index finger through it several times in a thrusting motion, throwing back her head and shivering. "Ooohhhh, like that, like that, harder, harder, HARDER! Yes, Master, YES! Spear me like a roasted duck! Split me with your throbbing sword! Squirt all over my ass! LET ME SUCK YOUR GIGANTIC COCK!!" She clasped both hands together and started convulsing. "OOOOHHHHH GODS AAAAIIIEEEEEEEEE--!!"

This time I'enua spat out his drink, coughing and sputtering. Djuta clamped his hands to his head and let out a strangled sound, thudding his head against the table several times as if trying to batter his own brains in; Tap started laughing hysterically, clutching at his sides and rocking back and forth.

I'enua managed to catch his breath as Ze'thet finished screaming and picked up her drink to calmly finish it off, and wiped at his streaming eyes. He peered at Djuta in some concern; Djuta no longer even bothered lifting his head, just kept it upon the table, a low moan escaping him. "For--forgive me for asking, Brother," I'enua coughed, "but where did you obtain her...?"

"She is not even mine," Djuta moaned, not showing his face. "Some enemy lieutenant bought her while visiting my tribe and I ended up bringing her along! Though I pray to the gods that I never had!"

I'enua frowned. "You mean she was someone's slave--?"

"Find something hard to believe in that, prick?" Ze'thet called out, swigging at her beer. "Or is that just the gigantic cock between your legs?" She crowed again and hurled her jar across the room so it shattered against the wall.

"Well. Not so much hard to believe." I'enua eyed her warily as she got to her feet and started weaving in Tap's direction. "As much as, hard to feel nearly enough pity. For the fool who bought her." He nudged his drink aside. "I must tell you, Brother, that if she is in fact who she seems to be, then your father made the right choice after all!"

"Hey, pretty!" Tap exclaimed, grinning at Ze'thet when she halted before him, swaying a bit unsteadily from side to side. "You and that mouth of yours are welcome in my back room any time! Free beer, as much as you can drink!"

Ze'thet let out a halfhearted snort and waved for another jar. "Just 's--just s'--just 's long as you do your OWN sucking!" she managed to get out, and Tap began laughing again when she slumped down at the nearest table and promptly began snoring. He turned to I'enua and Djuta, beaming gleefully.

"Gods, what a female! I would have her over my shoulder and on my cot and on her belly in an instant if I knew she would not probably tear my jewels off!" He resumed laughing and crying at once, rubbing his eyes and setting a fresh jar beside her limp hand.

I'enua turned to Djuta, leaning somewhat toward him. "Perhaps now that I have filled you in as best I could, Brother," he said quietly, "you can fill me in on what exactly was going on when all of you were accosted." And he peered to the side. Djuta followed suit. Nehara and Yekh'iet were seated not too far from the entrance, a few of the other Kana guarding them. He'd forgotten that they were even there, they were so quiet, even throughout Ze'thet's outburst. As soon as they saw him looking, Nehara's eyes grew spiteful and dark, and Yekh'iet gave him an anxious look. He turned back to the table.

"I do not know if I should," he murmured.

I'enua tilted his head. "You do not trust me?" When Djuta looked up at him he saw no suspicion or hurt on his face, merely puzzlement. "I do not blame you," the other Kana said, "but I told you only the truth when I spoke of the blood debt. Just as my father owed it to yours, so I owe you." He shuffled his wings and took a drink. "I rather get the feeling that you are in a bad situation. Perhaps I might help."

Djuta frowned. "No matter what the situation?" he said; when I'enua nodded his frown grew. "'Bad' is an understatement. I believe that if you helped me, you would be assisting a traitor."

I'enua frowned a little himself, then shrugged. "I knew your father through my father," he said. "And he had not a bone of deceit in his body. And so if you have betrayed anyone, I know that you had a good reason for it. Try as you might, Brother, you will not be relieving me of my debt."

Djuta stared at him for a long moment. "You mean this?" he asked quietly; when I'enua nodded again, he let out his breath and sank a little bit, clasping his jar in his hands. "It is difficult to explain."

"We have all the time in the world, Brother." I'enua's mouth twitched. "At least, until Zasa decides to return with news from the tribunal."

Djuta made a face. "I am sick unto death of tribunals." When that elicited a curious look he waved it off. "Never mind...I was intending to do something to help our tribe," he explained haltingly, "but by now I think it was rather a stupid idea."

"Oh really?" Nehara called from his side of the room. I'enua's ear flicked but other than that--and a nudge from a nearby guard--they ignored him.

"I knew your plot was not a deceitful one," I'enua said. "Please continue."

"No, it certainly was deceitful," Djuta replied. "But only for what I had hoped were the best of reasons. I planned to halt a war between our tribes before it began--but now--" he stretched a wing in Nehara's direction, then pulled it back "--I have no idea what to DO with him! And his Kana are out to murder me, and my general is likely in the same frame of mind. I left many unsettled issues behind me--and I did not even tell them of my plans. No one knows but Yekh'iet and myself." He waved toward the Moru.

I'enua's frown returned. "You did not even tell your general...?"

Djuta shook his head. "I did not tell my pregnant mate or my barracks-brother, either. As far as they are concerned, I merely fled the tribe with the enemy. As far as the enemy was concerned, I was their friend, at least until they found out what I was about. And now, they are all probably after me." He took a drink. "I had honestly thought that I couldn't make things much worse than they already were...I think now I know better. A little too late."

"Well..." I'enua frowned a little, then shrugged. "As noble a plan as any your father would have come up with...though I admit...he probably would have put a bit more thought into it..." Djuta began to scowl. "What were you planning to do should this plan have worked out as you expected?" I'enua asked.

Djuta set his jar down. "All I truly want is to return to my tribe...and go to sleep and forget the past year even happened! You would not believe the hell I have been through. It makes me sick just thinking about it."

I'enua pursed his lips thoughtfully. "Well," he said again, and finished his drink. "I think your...companion...would be best left here with Tap for now. You can trust him not to try anything; I think he knows his place." They glanced at the tavernkeep, who was leaning on his elbows and grinning at the snoring Ze'thet. "Though if she tries to leave here, she will need some accompaniment. You say this other female over here is a friend of yours--?"

Djuta leaned toward him. "She is that other's mate...but not through any will of her own," he muttered in the Kana's ear. "She has helped me. I promised to free her once this was through. She will likely go with Ze'thet."

"And the third...?"

"He, I do not really care what becomes of him. We would be better off if he were just dead." He winced. "But I said I would not kill him if I did not have to."

"He will just have a few of my father's old guards keeping him good company for a bit, then," I'enua said; when Djuta looked at him his mouth twitched. "Do not worry, they you may trust as well. And I will help you with this plan however I might. I'm certain we can think of something. In the meantime, we'd best look up Zasa, and get this matter with the tribunal settled."

"This will be much trouble...?" Djuta asked as they got to their feet. He fiddled with his pectoral. "I haven't a great deal of time to deal with such things now..."

I'enua waved at the air. "Do not worry. The tribunal barely tolerates Zasa...I believe they would be inclined to favor you, even if you were not the pup of Djuta-Kana!" He finally smiled, and Djuta was surprised by how friendly it made the imposing Kana seem. "Come along. They'll need no convincing at all; as soon as I saw your eyes I knew it was you, and so will they. I imagine they'll be glad to see that you've come back."

"Why will they be glad about this?" Djuta said, I'enua tossing a few rings at Tap and waving as the guards nudged Nehara and Yekh'iet to their feet. They all headed for the door.

"Well, it is simple," I'enua replied, not even glancing back. "I imagine they welcome the thought of you taking your father's place. As general," he said, and Djuta nearly tripped over the threshold on his way out.

* * * * *


Khetai awoke gradually, but early. Her eyes dragged open to look out on gray stillness, and she fought a yawn but failed. She stretched one wing and wondered if her brother was about or if he had gone for the day. She hadn't had a chance to talk to him in a long while, and she missed the way he would joke with her.

Then the memory of the dream hit her like a shock, and she realized that her twin was long dead. Tears filled her eyes as she recognized the rooms of the River Tribe captain, far from either of her previous homes. With a soft moan of disappointment she rolled over and touched her feet to the floor. She shivered, as the sun had not quite risen yet, and the air still had a chill to it.

Djefet snuggled into the sheets she had vacated, sighing contentedly. Khetai looked at her for a while, then turned to the bed. Fe'kheru and Ikhi'et were likewise sound asleep, their arms about each other. The tears filled her eyes anew and she stood and went for the door.

Fe'kheru had told her that she could move about the household if she wished. This was the residence of the old general, who was since dead; none had yet taken his place. She had seen the many darkened houses when arriving in the city; there were very few men left to keep the place populated. Normally, this would not bother her; but now for some reason she found it unsettling.

She would not go far. Just for a walk down the hallway. To clear her mind. The dream of her brother being alive again had seemed so real, that the shock of realizing it was not had yet to be overcome.

Khetai let out a shuddery sigh, rubbing her eyes as she passed one of the courtyards. She slowed her step and looked out longingly at the water. She hadn't swum in ages, but didn't feel safe enough doing so around here.

Why should I feel threatened? It was a greater threat when I was Kana...I do not have to hide myself anymore.

But now I am surrounded by strange Kana...

Yet Fe'kheru said he would care for me...and none have even looked my way, save that one...


"Khetai? Lady Khetai! You awaken so early?"

Khetai suppressed another moan and turned away from the courtyard. Just as she feared, the voice belonged to Captain Khanef, who was striding down the hall toward her. He smiled brightly and held up a hand in greeting; Khetai didn't even have the spirit to snarl at him. She lowered her head and sighed. The thought of a swim had been a good one, while it lasted...

"I had no clue you would awaken so early," the Kana said cheerfully, slowing his own step to match her own. "I do not know why, but I sensed you were the type to sleep in a bit. The sun isn't even up yet."

"I know," Khetai murmured under her breath.

"I'm usually not up so early myself, but I have to speak with some of the men today. We have been without a general, you see, and decisions must be made as to who the new one will be."

Khetai sighed again.

"Lord Sut'khut was the first in line for the position, but he obviously cannot fill it now..."

"Do you always state only the obvious?" The comment came out before Khetai could stop it, and she bit the inside of her mouth. Khanef's smile faltered, then turned foolish, and he rubbed at his neck.

"Ah...I suppose I do. Of course you'd know all these things already..." He paused and appeared to search the ceiling. "Well, this then greatly narrows down my topics of conversation..."

Khetai tried not to growl. Her fur prickled and her claws dug into her palms, but she managed to keep her face as neutral as possible, considering that he would not leave her alone.

"I suppose I shall just have to bore you with personal matters, then," he said, and she nearly bit into her tongue this time, the urge to lash out at him was so great. Khanef put on a thoughtful look before smiling again. "Oh yes! Your friend. Did you enjoy her company?"

Khetai halted so abruptly that Khanef took a step or two before realizing that she was no longer beside him. He turned to look at her and she stared at him with wide eyes, mouth gaping.

"You...you did send her?" she stammered in disbelief.

Khanef blinked, then grinned. "Of course...she said that you were lonely, and I remembered you said you are not interested in males..."

"You SPOKE to her about me?" Khetai cried.

Khanef seemed genuinely surprised. "Well...yes," he said. "I knew that you had been talking with her, and she seemed friendly enough..."

"How could you do such a thing?" Khetai clenched her fists at her sides. "Have you no idea how you've humiliated me? Speaking to someone else about what I said! I knew I should not have told you! I wouldn't have if you had not kept PESTERING me! It's not as if it has stopped you, either! I don't see why you keep following me about like some lovesick pup!"

Khanef blinked again and took a step back. "I--I meant no offense," he stammered. "I merely thought that you would--"

"That I would what? Appreciate it? Maybe I would be so happy with the way you have set me up, I would let you in, too? You must have SOME reason for following me around!" Khetai backed away, baring her teeth. "I ask you only one thing. Leave me alone! I do not want to hear from you, of you, or about you. If I even suspect you have had some dealing in a concern of mine, I will tell Lord Fe'kheru you are harassing me! I belong to him! Not you! I may be a slave but you have NO right to do this!"

Khanef held up his hands in a supplicating gesture, opening and closing his mouth with a bewildered look. Khetai gave him no chance to speak. "Just leave me alone," she grated, turning away. "I do not wish to hear you or see you. You've ruined my morning. You've ruined everything. You are just like all the Kana."

She started walking now, tears welling up in her eyes and stinging her cheeks, but she was relieved that he could not see them. She headed for Fe'kheru's room, but her step slowed and she chewed on her lip in indecision. Djefet was still there...and she didn't feel that she could face the Moru again, after learning of what Khanef had done. Love? How stupid could she have been! Of course Djefet had only come to her out of pity. She felt absolutely foolish.

Rubbing at her eyes and sniffling, she started walking again, making her way more slowly toward the captain's quarters. She hated that she'd let her emotions get the better of her, but what else could she have done? The idiot would not leave her alone unless she tonguelashed him. She tried to tell herself it was only anger, but learning about Djefet...it hurt for some reason. She knew that she should not have been surprised, but she still hurt. And wasn't sure why.

She stopped again, starting to sob. Something touched her arm and she jumped and screamed, her heart leaping into her throat. She would have found Lieutenant Meteri's reaction comical if she had not been so startled. Apparently, the young Kana was startled also. He clamped one hand to his breast and his eyes were huge.

"Are you all right?" he exclaimed, a little too loudly; she could tell that her reaction had prompted his own. For a moment she was actually tempted to tell him everything that was bothering her, but the sight of his blue lappets made her draw in on herself again. Baring her teeth, she pushed past him and continued down the hall, though not very far.

It was very early in the day for someone such as Meteri to be out...even Khanef had remarked on the unusual hour. And so why...?

She paused, and glanced over her shoulder. Meteri had lost interest in her and turned to Fe'kheru's door, knocking quietly. It was a little while before he received any response; then the door opened and the Kana appeared, still tying on his kilt. Meteri offered an informal salute and the captain nodded. Khetai's ear flicked, and she caught their speech.

"Lord, I came to talk to you about the meeting tonight..."

"I know of it already, Meteri."

"Then you know what we'll be talking about, surely? We've been without a general for ages now..."

"And we still function well."

"But this will not hold out."

"You worry too much, Meteri."

"Lord, you said that I could speak to you of this again when the general was dead. He is gone now, and so I speak to you. All of us know that even while Sut'khut was alive, you were the best choice for general."

A sigh. "Meteri, it is not my decision..."

"It needn't be your decision, Lord. I would support you, and so would Khanef and the other captains. I know of only very few dissenting voices, and they all served that dog, not the real general. They are easily silenced. You are the only one we have left."

"Meteri..." Fe'kheru's voice lowered now so Khetai could not hear what he said, no matter how much she strained her ears. She did hear Meteri's reaction, when he exclaimed the captain's name in a voice full of disbelief and disappointment, but Fe'kheru silenced him again with more murmured words. Khetai had to look at them again to try to tell what was going on. Meteri hung his head in a most dejected manner; Fe'kheru said something else to him and he lifted it slightly, his brow furrowing in confusion.

"Lord...?"

"You heard me, Meteri. I have the fullest faith that it would go through."

"But..."

"Simply stand up and state it, and see what the response is. You must have more confidence in yourself, Meteri. I know that you could convince them."

Meteri's wings slumped. "Yes, Lord," he murmured. Fe'kheru placed a hand on his shoulder and said a few more words before sending the lieutenant on his way. Khetai was grateful that he went in the opposite direction; she ducked behind a column before Fe'kheru could spot her, though she knew that she would have to return to him sometime before she was greatly missed.

With a shuddery sigh she slid to the floor and sat there, wrapping her arms around her knees and resting her chin upon them. Perhaps a while alone would settle her mood.

* * * * *


Khesa's tavern was the most popular in the tribe, and once any Kana who entered it saw the tavernkeep's incentive, it was easy to see why.

Most Kana served only beer and wine and food to their patrons; but those who were lucky enough to catch them when they were free were also occasionally served Khesa's two daughters, one or the other or once in a while even both, and this was well known as one of the main reasons why this particular tavern was so appreciated. Most Kana kept their Moru children hidden away at home, but those who were not so well off at times were forced to put them to use. When Khesa's tavern had been young and small, he'd put his two female pups to use working the place with him--storing and carrying the jars, opening them, pouring them, running back to fetch more whenever the customers demanded it. At first the visiting Kana, mostly tired barracks lieutenants and a few captains, had cooed over the two pups as such cute little things, so pretty and obedient. As the years wore on and the tavern became more popular, and a visiting-place for the other lieutenants and the sergeants and privates as well, Khesa couldn't help but notice how many of his patrons peered at the two growing females with renewed interest, and a plan was born. Most taverns and brothels that offered the services of Moru were somewhat dingy and desolate places, the women with sadness and embarrassment perpetually in their eyes, their looks listless and worn. And so Khesa's daughters--both young, goodnatured, and welcoming toward the Kana who engaged their services--were a welcome change of pace. Khesa insisted that all patrons treat them properly, but other than that, if the money was good, they would do just about anything that was asked of them. The one time that a Kana had gotten overzealous and had slapped one across the face, she'd let out a bawl loud enough to startle everyone in the main room; a moment later had come awful screaming and thudding noises, as the patrons had been sure that the two Moru were being taught a lesson for being so disobedient, and Khesa had rushed into the back room to see what was happening. A moment or so later, he had the unruly patron by the ear and was hauling him across the main room, scratches and bitemarks all over the unfortunate Kana's arms and neck and shoulders, the two females following him as well, growling and baring their bloody claws. That Kana had been thrown out into the street for everyone to laugh at for being beaten so by a pair of cute little females, and ever since, the incident had not been repeated even once. Nobody was quite sure how Khesa kept them so happy, but somehow he did, and the two brought in even better money than the beer itself, and nobody who followed them into the back room was ever disappointed.

Lieutenant Nehef had goaded and wheedled at Khesa--a retired captain who had given up his title--numerous times to tell him what his secret was, but all that the older Kana would ever say was, "All you have to do is ask them nicely, and they'll do whatever is wanted! That's all you ever have to do to get something you want from a Moru, you know, is ask them"--and the lieutenant always scoffed at such a ridiculous idea. Whoever heard of asking Moru for things? Well...despite his skepticism, he always remembered to ask them for what he wanted, whenever he visited, and if they weren't too busy with other patrons, they always giggled and obeyed. Perhaps there was some merit to Khesa's wild tale after all.

Tonight the tavern wasn't in as jovial a mood as it usually was, so when he spotted the two Moru standing in the entrance of the back room and peering out at the others, occasionally blowing kisses and winking, he got to his feet and made his way over to them, offering them his most winning smile. As soon as they saw him they burst into giggles; they always did when he smiled at them. They even started hopping up and down a little, and both took hold of one of his arms when he reached them. He made certain to smile at each in turn, and they giggled anew and steered him into the back room.

"Good eve, Nehef-Master!" the older one, Biyet, greeted.

"Looking for some fun, Nehef-Master?" the younger one, Tikimit, added with a smile of her own.

Nehef grinned at them both. They were always so cheery whenever he was there, and he could tell that the fact that he was the first lieutenant to the general had more than a little something to do with it; rather than insult him, this fact made him swell his chest a little and move his head so his lappets fluttered and the two females both cooed at him. "Just what any decent-minded Kana wants, ladies!" he exclaimed, and their giggling returned, and they took him by the hands and toward the pallet beside the wall, nudging the beaded curtain into place over the doorway to offer a flimsy bit of privacy. Nehef had never minded such inconveniences when there were nicer things to think about.

Khesa also kept his back room nice and tidy. There were two pallets, for two Kana if they should choose to enjoy his daughters separately, though now only one pallet was in use. The straw was refreshed and the floor swept every day, and dried fruits always placed in the corners of the room to keep it smelling nice, not dingy and reeking of sweat and spilled seed like most tavern back rooms were. Nehef liked this fact. He hardly needed to smell all the other Kana who'd been back here, when he wanted to enjoy himself.

They reached the pallet and he allowed them to nudge him to sit down on the edge of it, at which point they both started removing his clothes. This was another nice aspect of visiting Khesa's tavern; nesakh'ai didn't have to be a hurried thing, done quickly with one's clothes still mostly on. So within a moment or two, Nehef was naked but for his skullcap, loincloth, and jewelry, and the two sisters rose and began peeling off their own dresses over their heads, making sure to stretch themselves and show themselves off for him. Nehef sighed on staring at their bodies. They were both still young--by his estimates, Biyet was perhaps seventeen or eighteen, her sister a year or so younger--and they hadn't started sagging or looking as tired and worn as most harlots in other taverns and brothels did. Not that Nehef ever would have called them harlots. They were a far cry from those other Moru, and everyone knew it. Biyet's behind was rounder and plumper, whereas Tikimit was lithe and willowy; even their colors were different, Biyet a pleasant russet shade and Tikimit a soft creamy gray. Their breasts were small but round, and they both lowered themselves to kneel before him, smiling and reaching out to rub his legs. Nehef smiled at Biyet, then cupped Tikimit's face and kissed her so she giggled into his mouth and pressed against him. He could feel Biyet's hands upon his sheath, expertly working it, and his breath picked up. Tikimit put her arms around him.

She'd been the first of the two he'd ever been with in this tavern. And neither she nor her sister ever ridiculed him or insisted that he must be lying or exaggerating, no matter what the ridiculous tales he told them. They always ahh'ed and ooh'ed to hear his rambles, and eventually Tikimit took to begging him to take her with him someday. Every time they met, she made a point of asking him when he would have time to take a mate of his own, and he knew that she wished to be his, and live with him in Mahakhi's household. He liked to indulge her in this little fantasy, for honestly, no matter how inconvenient it might be, he found that he longed for the same sometimes. It got tiring selecting a favorite or two from the Moru stables, and then often taking her back, when he just wanted a little distraction; so the thought of one female whom he could call upon whenever needed was a tempting one. He wasn't certain what Khesa thought, if he knew. He knew Khesa didn't wish to lose either of his employees. However, he also knew that the older Kana very much liked the thought of grandpups to help carry on his business and his line, and in all truth, the tavernkeep didn't seem to care who the father turned out to be. Even though he would be losing a helper, the older Kana had to know that losing a helper to the general's first lieutenant would be good for bragging rights and for business.

Still...that was then and hardly now. Nehef's ears flicked as they kissed, and he lay back on the pallet and let them do as they wished, since they were good at it. He knew it was a silly thought to take in a Moru at such a time, when he hardly had the time to look after one, and affairs with the tribe were so somber...he grimaced a little as he tried to force the thought from his mind. He would hardly let General Dja'mui's troubles become his own and distract him from his distractions. In Khesa's tavern, the Hawk Tribe didn't have to exist.

They already no longer exist...

He opened his eyes and found Tikimit leaning over him, propping herself up with her hands; Biyet sat beside him, smiling coyly and still rubbing his swollen sheath. "What to want most, Master?" Tikimit asked, smiling sweetly; he couldn't help but smile in return. He wasn't their master, so it wasn't proper for them to call him that, but he thought it was cute that they did anyway. He reached up to run a finger over her breast and she giggled, and he darted a knowing glance at Biyet so she came forward as well and the two of them leaned over him together. He rubbed both their faces.

"Come on now," he chided. "How many times have I been here? And you always ask! Surely you know by now what the first lieutenant prefers!"

They both started laughing. The two of them shifted about, until Biyet straddled his waist and Tikimit his chest. They both smiled down at him, dimples in their cheeks.

"Nehef-Master to watch...?" Biyet asked in an amused voice.

"To not miss anything! Yes--?" Tikimit asked sweetly.

Nehef nodded, breathless. "You know how very talented the two of you are!" he managed to say, earning another round of giggles, before the two sisters turned to each other, draped their arms over each other's shoulders, and leaned forward to kiss. Nehef lay upon his back with his neck craned to the side, his eyes glazing over as he stared at them. He had no clue whether they actually liked doing this or not, but they certainly seemed to like it, or else they deserved lappets themselves for being such grand actors. Biyet lifted a hand to cup her younger sister's face and their tongues twined around each other, lips sucking softly; Tikimit ran her hand down and cupped her older sister's breast. A moment later, Biyet was sucking at Tikimit's nipple, the other Moru putting her head back and whining softly. Nehef's breath picked up when he could feel their moisture against him, and Tikimit let out a squeak when he grasped her hip. Biyet pulled her head back, her coy smile returning, and pushed herself up a little bit as Tikimit did the same. Nehef opened his mouth to say something to them, then blinked when his mind went blank. The two paused--they were evidently used to hearing his cajoling--so when none was forthcoming they both burst into laughter. The Kana's face grew warm but he grinned at them and rubbed his head.

"What can I say?" he exclaimed. "The two of you do more than enough talking for me!"

"Silly Master!" Tikimit giggled. "Biyet and Tikimit not talking at all!"

"Well--that's rather the best part, don't you think--?" Nehef returned, and their laughter told him that he was right. Biyet grasped his shaft and brought herself down upon it, just as Tikimit lowered herself over his face, and he took hold of her and rooted deeply, running his tongue over her slick juices as the older Moru's legs hugged his hips and they began to move. He stroked Tikimit's thighs as they tensed, loving the sound of her whimper, and every so often he made certain to pull away from her so he could see the way that she and her sister serviced each other. Every time they saw him looking their antics increased, until they couldn't contain themselves anymore, both laughing hysterically as they kissed and fondled each other. Nehef loved the sound of their laughter. Too many Kana found such things annoying, or insulting, during nesakh'ai; he, on the other hand, found it a delightful sound, since nesakh'ai wasn't meant to be so serious in the first place. He loved when they laughed at his jokes, and even when they laughed at him--such as one time when he had come too early, squirting in Tikimit's face, or another time when he'd tripped and fallen over while trying too hurriedly to remove his kilt--he found being laughed at much better than the awkwardness that seemed to follow with any other Kana. He'd never understood why some masters insisted on slapping their Moru for giggling at them during what was meant to be a frivolous activity; he just supposed that some of them took themselves way too seriously. He briefly thought of Lieutenant Ahai'ikh, who had accompanied him out into town tonight for once, and vaguely wondered where his comrade had wandered off to before deciding not to care. He nuzzled at Tikimit's pudenda and shivered at the shrill squeal that she let out.

"Nehef-Master to seem distracted tonight!" Biyet exclaimed, rubbing his belly as his muscles tensed. "Something to be wrong with fun...?"

Nehef had to pull away and take a breath, Tikimit's juices dampening his muzzle; he smiled at them both when they peered down at him with arched brows. "Nothing too serious, ladies," he assured them. "Just wondering what's become of my poor 'Hikh. I was going to convince him to join us, and spread the wealth a bit! I take it he's found some of his own elsewhere!"

"Awww!" the two cried, and laughed. "Maybe 'Hikh-Kana's interests to be elsewhere...?" Biyet coyly suggested, and this time Nehef laughed. He reached out to squeeze her thigh and she squirmed, making him arch.

"Who cares?" he said. "As long as he is out humping somebody, or somebody is out humping him, all's well that ends well, isn't it--? Speaking of well--there's a veritable fount here that I've been terribly neglecting!" He grabbed Tikimit's buttocks and parted them, rooting at her once more. The Moru squealed again and wriggled in his grasp, but her motions and her sister's caresses made all thoughts of the other Kana flee his mind, and he thrust his hips upward, making the older Moru moan huskily. Once they were done with this, if Khesa didn't decide to step in and put a halt to it all, he thought it might be nice to go at it for another round, for a change. The tavernkeep probably wouldn't mind; Nehef always paid well.

He was busily licking Tikimit, shuddering at the feeling of Biyet riding him, when he heard the younger Moru speak. "N...Nehef-Master..." she whispered, and he rubbed her hip to show that he'd heard. She trailed her hand over his chest and tweaked at his nipple. "To think about Tikimit-Moru's idea...?" she murmured. "To take Tikimit-Moru back to Mahakhi-Kana's house...?"

"Silly Tikimit-Moru!" Biyet gasped, moving back and forth. "First lieutenants to have no time for mates!"

"But...Tikimit to not take up too much time," Tikimit insisted. "To not ask much...stay in Nehef-Master's room, always be good! And always be ready for Nehef-Master, when to return after long hard day--for long hard night!" And she giggled.

Nehef pulled back to take another breath. "Rest assured, sweet," he panted. "If your father ever considers it, I will sweep you away, and stash you away in my room, and the nights will be INCREDIBLY long and hard! Long and hard."

They both started giggling. "Tikimit to be best Moru for Nehef-Kana!" the young Moru promised. "To make Nehef-Kana sleep well at night...and be happy all the day...and to give Nehef-Master a pup...all sorts of pups...!"

Nehef stiffened, when a voice and a barrage of images started flickering through his head.

Do you have family?

No...no, I do not.

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

Do you ever regret your life?

What do you mean?

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


The clear-as-day, clear as if he had been right there, image of two females--a young Moru, and a little girl--appeared--both of them curled up together, the adult female's intestines sliding out of her body, the little girl a mess of dark ugly bruises, both of them bleeding and torn upon the floor...

Nehef's eyes popped open--desperately trying to dispel the horrid image from his mind--and he shuddered again, letting out a sharp breath. He grimaced when he felt his erection die--something that had never happened to him before--and Biyet abruptly stopped moving, blinking and glancing down at him in surprise. Tikimit stopped moving as well as she noticed her sister's look; they both hastened to clamber off of him when the lieutenant started pushing himself up, shaking and gasping for breath. They shared an anxious look, then gnawed on their lips, fingers fiddling rapidly.

"Lord--?" Biyet asked as Nehef drew his legs up. "To do something wrong--?"

"Nehef-Master--?" Tikimit cried softly. "To not mean to upset! To say something bad--?"

Nehef quickly shook his head, still wincing. "No--neither one of you," he managed to force out. He grabbed his kilt and tossed it over himself, suddenly feeling embarrassed--another thing that had never happened during nesakh'ai before--and wishing to cover himself up. He hurriedly stood and started tying it around his waist, grasping for the rest of his clothes. His ears felt like they were burning, and he couldn't stop shaking.

The two Moru didn't seem placated. They crawled toward him, then pushed themselves onto their knees. "Please, Lord!" Tikimit begged. "To give hakh'tua, if you wish--!"

"Not--not to feel bad about!" Biyet added, almost frantically. "Every Kana to do that sometimes! Not that bad! Biyet to bring it back, promise--!"

Nehef shook his head, slipping on his armor. He realized as he laced it that the two of them were actually afraid now, and made himself stop dressing long enough to touch their faces and offer what he was certain was a completely unconvincing smile. "No! It's not your fault, neither of you. I'm not mad! Not at all. Don't worry. Just a--just a bad night, is all. Perhaps I drank a little too much." Another unconvincing smile, though he didn't have to force it as much this time, as he saw the two Moru start to relax a little, their faces still uncertain. "And I just realized I have to be up incredibly early tomorrow! That rather kills a mood, doesn't it--? I guess I'll have to stop by and stay twice as long the next time, eh--?" He leaned down to kiss Biyet, then Tikimit, the second lasting a bit longer. He rubbed her cheek. "Don't worry! I'll give your father full pay, how is that? Just because I know that if I hadn't gone and spoiled it it would have been the best night ever! And now I'll have to go and brag about it to my brothers. Only of course I'll have to leave out that little ending, won't I--?"

The two Moru stared at him a bit longer, then began to relax a little more. "To not worry," Biyet said at last. "To tell anyone who asks that it was a wonderful ending!"

Tikimit's face slowly lit up and she nodded. "Of course! Always to end good with Nehef-Master!"

Nehef's smile came easiest of all now, and judging by the looks on their faces, he could tell that he'd at last convinced them; his stomach, still twisting and lurching, calmed a little, and he patted their heads, making them purr and giggle. "Very well! Soon the two of you will be just as good storytellers as Nehef-Kana! Perhaps I'll just have to buy you both and move you both in with me sometime! Just to keep our stories straight! Hah--?"

More laughter; he blew kisses at the two Moru as they did the same, and strode from the back room with a confidence he did not in the least bit feel. He made certain to toss extra rings at Khesa, just for the trouble he'd caused the poor things; the tavernkeep gave him an odd look but nodded and saluted. Nehef cast one last glance around the tavern, considered staying to drink a bit more, then the image resituated itself in his head and he cringed, knowing that he would be lousy company. He ducked his head a little and hastened outside and into the street.

Normally the streets would still have a good number of Kana carousing them at this hour, but news had changed the times--they had not heard back yet from their scouts--and so the tribe would grow quieter much earlier in the evening. Nehef tried to shrug off the chill as he walked, his sandals clacking too sharply. He winced to himself, thinking of what had just happened. Under any other circumstances, he would perhaps tell Ahai'ikh, just to loosen the sour Kana up a little, and would have liked seeing the way he would likely laugh over it and threaten to blackmail him with it. The image of the dead Moru, however, shoved all such feelings away, and he ground his teeth, finding himself starting to hate General Dja'mui and his men even as he pitied them. He wished that he'd never let them put such images in his head. Decent Kana should never think of such things. His life had been pleasant enough before, without images like that to stall him, and take his enjoyment out of everything.

He thought he heard a noise far off, and glanced over his shoulder, yet saw nothing but the empty street. He sighed and let his feet take him where they would.

He found himself returning to Mahakhi's household, and decided that this was just as good a place as any to go to by now. It wasn't his shift yet and he wasn't tired enough to sleep, but he was tired of the pessimistic talk that was circulating about the taverns. It seemed no one had anything to speak of other than Dja'mui's troops. Nehef had had as much of this talk as he could stand, living under Mahakhi's roof; he didn't need to hear it in a place of relaxation, also--especially when it had ruined his otherwise promising night.

Ahai'ikh didn't seem to have returned to the household just yet, which surprised him a little, but he tried to take it as a good sign. Perhaps he had seen the light and would take a pretty Moru back to his room for the night. Nehef had been trying to egg him into doing so for ages, it seemed, but Ahai'ikh had always been far too bashful for a Kana. The first lieutenant's mouth twitched as he thought of this; leave it to Ahai'ikh to best him, as always, even at something like this. Well, at least one of them would be having fun tonight.

He ascended the steps into the building and entered the main hall. Mahakhi's seat was here; although it was a very disrespectful breach of custom, Nehef seated himself upon it, pulling a few stray figs from a pouch at his side and chewing on them. He might as well make the most of the hall while it was still empty. The stillness was soothing, though it gave him too much room for ominous thoughts. He sighed and tried to shove them from his head.

After a while of trying this, unsuccessfully, he finished the figs and rose from the chair, stretching his wings and yawning. Perhaps an early night to bed would be the best thing, although it was pretty late by now. He descended the dais and made his way for the side hall when a slight noise from the doorway made him pause. He turned to look over his shoulder, but he could see from the flickering lamplight that no one was there.

Nehef made a face. Probably a cat, or a rodent of some sort; they would occasionally follow raids to Apsiu settlements and annoy the Kana no end. Nehef personally had never understood the need of some humans to keep such parasites as pets.

He had started to turn back toward the stairway when the noise--a very faint shuffling--came again--and he would have ignored it this time had it not spoken aloud.

"Ne...hef..."

The fur on the back of Nehef's neck prickled at the eerie sound and all of his muscles tensed, out of fear rather than readiness. He slowly turned once more to the doorway, his teeth bared in a grimace of anxiety. He'd also heard tales of spirits of the dead following their slayers or their families wherever they went...and Dja'mui's men must have certainly brought many restless spirits along with them to the Great Red Tribe...but why would one be calling for him?

Nehef's hackles rose. A dim shape finally appeared in the faint lamplight; from what little he could tell, it was an Apsiu, a Kana, and it was very slowly dragging itself along the ground, through the doorway. Nehef started trembling, then shaking as it advanced, still whispering his name between pained gasps. Perhaps this was the ghost of one of the Blue Oasis Tribe? Come to seek vengeance upon those who assisted his enemy? He'd known that taking in the strange Kana had been a bad idea; he took a step back up the dais, reaching for his sword, but unable to pull it free of its scabbard with how badly his hand was shaking. He'd never been so terrified of anything in his life, not even when in the midst of battle. At least during fighting, those Kana were real, alive. He had no idea how to deal with a ghost!

The shape dragged itself a little bit closer, toward a column. "Ne...hef..." It grabbed hold of the column and managed to pull itself upright, standing unsteadily, but unable to let go of the pillar lest it fall over again. It stayed this way for a moment or two, Nehef watching it in fascinated terror, before it said something that made his blood run even colder.

"Help...me...Bro...ther..."

The first lieutenant sucked in a breath, spine straightening. The shape let go of the column, and true to his prediction, it fell over again in a muddled heap, wings crumpling. Nehef's senses returned to him and he snatched up a lamp from beside the chair, holding it aloft. Its pale beams wavered over the crumpled shape below and it was a moment before Nehef finally recognized who it was. He dropped the lamp with a crash, jumping down the steps of the dais and dashing toward the pathetic heap.

"Ahai'ikh!!"

He reached the barely conscious Kana and dropped down beside him, grasping his arm and carefully rolling him over. Nehef started whimpering. Ahai'ikh was still alive...but not in good shape. One of his eyes was swollen shut, as was the side of his mouth, from which a stream of blood trickled; his body was littered with dark bruises as if a Sha had trampled all over him. His breath came out in tiny rasps and Nehef didn't doubt that at least a few of his ribs had been broken. His wings were intact, though they slumped as if lifeless, their bearer unable to hold them aloft in his weakened state. His blue lappets, however, had been shredded, and the cause of this was clear, judging by the rake of clawmarks marring Ahai'ikh's cheek. He gasped painfully for breath and managed to barely open one eye as Nehef cradled him in his arms.

"Brother!" Nehef cried. "What happened? Who did this to you?"

Ahai'ikh panted weakly and forced his mouth to work. "Dr...ink..." he whispered. Nehef's brow furrowed and he leaned closer to try to understand.

"What--? 'Drink'? I don't understand, Brother! Who did this to you? Do you know?"

"Tavern," Ahai'ikh murmured in a faint voice. "The drink...it...sleep..." His eye fluttered shut and his head lolled to the side, limbs going completely limp. Nehef clutched him tighter as if to hold in every last bit of life that he could, and his entreaties grew as loud as the bawling of a lost calf as guards from the rest of the household finally came running to see about the noise.

"Brother! Please hold on...!"


Continue:

"Part 68: TalkOpen in new Window.


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This item is NOT looking for literary critique. I already understand spelling/grammar, and any style choices I make are my own. Likewise, I am NOT seeking publication, so suggestions on how to make this publishable are not being sought.

This item IS looking for people who are simply interested in reading, especially in long/multipart stories, and who like to comment frequently. My primary intent is to entertain others, so if you read this and find it entertaining, please let me know so and let me know why.

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