Gentle Beast

by Margaret Afseth

  “Reon,” Liam ordered. “Go bathe.”

  “But…my she?” the younger male objected.

  Realizing that was her cue, Moriah got to her feet. “We’ll go bathe, as well, okay?” she suggested. At an assenting nod from Shiveron, she took her daughter’s hand. “Come Iora.”

  “Yes. Good idea,” Liam agreed. “I need to talk to Shiveron, alone.”

  When all three had disappeared into their perspective sides of the bathhouse, and the doors slid shut, Shiveron turned to Liam, and again repeated his question.

  “What happened?”

  Liam evaded. “I see you’re mated?” he observed.

  “How can you tell?”

  Liam chuckled. “Your she is glowing. Litterly.”

  Shiveron grinned, but sobered immediately, knowing something serious was going on. Before he could ask a third time, Liam lowered to sit on the bed mat. Shiveron joined him.

  “I want you and Reon to keep the females here in the nest for the next couple of days.”

  “Why?” Shiveron asked warily. “Are you going to tell me what’s been going on, or must I invade your privacy?”

  “As if you could,” Liam challenged. Then seemed to think better of his attitude. “Twila’s male was attacked by a disgruntle warrior.”

  Shiveron frowned. “Did I miss something here? When did Twila accept a male?”

  “Oh, huh!” Liam exclaimed. “That’s right, you’ve been away, too. So you don’t know. The mating bank called her a while back; a male with a young female, just the right age for Jabek, was compatible to them.”

  “Of what species?”

  “He’s human, with Noor anomaly.”

  “You jest!”

  “No. Checked him myself.”

  “Incredible.” Shiveron shook his head in disbelief at the good fortune.

  “We need to stay at arms length from her for a bit. She’s already attaching. If we go give her comfort or protection…”

  Shiveron nodded. “We need to give him a chance. I understand. He’s been schooled?”

  “Aye.”

  With awe, Shiveron digested the information for a second, then what had been said prior to the revelation, came to his mind.

  “You said the male had been attacked. He wasn’t killed?”

  “Near.”

  “How bad? Did his Noor self-healing kick in?”

  “Yes. But Twila is near frantic.”

  “Man! And we can give no comfort?”

  “Best not to. Let nature take its course.”

  Shiveron hissed in vexation. “And the warrior? What became of him?”

  “The Slither, Sith, was upon him before anyone could stop him. Killed him before he could strike a second blow.”

  Shiveron growled deep in his chest. “If I’d been there, he’d not gotten in the first.”

  “Easy to boast, young male, but one never knows how circumstances play.”

  “I would have sensed the warrior’s mind set. I too am warrior. Why didn’t Twila’s male feel his danger?”

  “He had just come by bad news about those he left behind.”

  “Wish I had been there to alert him.”

  “Tell me, Shiveron; would you have killed?”

  Shiveron frowned, realizing what he had been saying.

  “We Noor are peaceful,” challenged Liam. “Healers!”

  In the silence that followed, Liam changed the subject. “Besides, you obviously were needed elsewhere, otherwise occupied. Congratulations.”

  Shiveron grinned. “She’s been ready since the first day after the transfusion.”

  “None of my business, male. Private,” Liam reminded. “You will keep your shes safe in house? There might be others like-minded. Jealousy toward us is rampart among warriors.”

  “You don’t need to remind me. Do you not need at least one of us to help stand guard in med bay?”

  “You are mated now; no more a Warrior guardian. I’ll talk to Poppa to reassign you. How would you like training in board?”

  Shiveron’s heart leapt in his breast. He had long wanted such placement. “Would I!” he exclaimed with fervour. “All my dreams are coming true.”

  “See me later, then. For now, you and Reon guard our family. Reon needs sleep, by the way. He was too on edge through the break to relax.”

  “I’ll see he rests. I’ll take first watch.”

  Liam nodded agreement. “Then let us join your young male in the bath.”

  ****

  Nyle opened his eyes feeling disoriented, and realized he was laying on a cot, on his side, facing the wall. When he tried to roll to his back, excruciating pain shot down his neck to his shoulders.

  “Best not move too much, human,” cautioned the voice of the guardian Bear, Wadi. “Wait for Kimon. He is coming shortly.”

  But Nyle needed to see what was causing the hurt. Carefully, he moved his hand to the back of his skull, where he found his head shaved and swathed in bandages.

  Without thinking, in one fluid motion, he turned around and sat up. The sudden movement made the world swim, and brought him to gagging from the nausea it caused.

  Dangerously, he swayed, and would have fallen from the bed, if not for Wadi reaching out and steadying him.

  “Lie back,” the bear creature growled. He pushed Nyle down until he lay back on his side.

  Nyle had no fight left in him, and he was quite willing to comply. But at least, now he could see where he was, and what was going on. He no longer felt defenceless.

  Wadi patted his shoulder in approval. “Nice human. No need to fight.”

  Nyle grunted. “I’m not your pet, Bear,” he growled.

  Wadi only laughed. “Your fight’s there, at least. You know, we all thought you were dead.”

  “Take’s more to kill me than most. Where’s my Kaudy?”

  The giant bear grunted disparagingly. “You should be asking of Twila; she’s your promised.”

  “I take it someone attacked me; they wouldn’t hurt Twila. They want me dead, so they can have her.”

  “Yeah, but she never wanted him before…She was just livid when she saw, so angry, we thought she’d kill someone. If the Slither hadn’t got there first, that warrior would have had his brain fried.”

  Nyle frowned. “What warrior?”

  “The one who attacked you has wanted Twila for a long time; kept deliberately getting hurt just so he could be in the bay near her. Infuriated him that she’d chosen a human when she’s been raised Feline. Now, Twila’s so distraught you’ve been hurt, she’s been glued to your side every moment since it happened, bathing your wound herself every two hours. Kimon finally ordered her away to Dia’s ante for some rest. She’ll sure be upset she wasn’t here when you came to.”

  “Enough!” thundered Kimon disapprovingly, as he came toward the bed. “Guardians aren’t meant to be chattering on protection duty, especially not about the private lives of my fosters.”

  But Wadi was confident enough of his acceptance in med bay, so certain he could not jeopardize his place that he dared to answer back.

  “He moved too sudden, needed my help…and reassurance.”

  “Then, I praise your consideration,” Kimon conceded. “Now, be silent! And let me see to the patient.”

  Wadi stepped back in a dignified manner. It was apparent he was used to the physician’s fowl temper and curt reprimands, and took them in stride. The guardian assumed a position of easy alert.

  “How are you feeling?” Kimon asked of Nyle.

  Nyle swallowed back the weakness. At least the room had stopped spinning. “Like I died and came back too soon,” he admitted, tongue-in-cheek.

  Kimon grunted appreciatively. “Humour is good. Quickens the healing. Rest a while longer.” He peered up at the beeping screen behind and above Nyle’s head. “You are mending well, but…such a blow will take time to heal.”

  “Where is my daughter?”

  “With Dia. She is safe. Dia comforts; the little she
was quite frightened. Dia reassures… She is good at that.”

  “Bring her here; I’ll…”

  “No! You will rest! She is in good hands. Do not worry. We will see no harm comes to her.”

  CHAPTER 31

  As was the usual routine each day, Loki and Tusha were in the prison medical bay.

  Loki knew, even though it was a risk, Tusha still kept a bit of chocolate in her pocket at all times, being careful not to let the guards, or anyone else, see her slip it to a girl. Usually, when she was doing it, he tried to hide the two with his much larger frame. Both he and his little companion knew, if they got caught, there would be consequences to pay.

  Today the guards were bringing the patients in two at a time. These were the newly pregnant younger ones, and a sentry accompanied each.

  “This one can’t keep nothing down,” the first Roog declared.

  “And this one won’t stop bawling,” the second guard admonished, as if speaking to the female.

  “I’ll take the second first,” Loki said, lifting the young teen to the table. Tusha moved in beside the girl to offer reassurance with her presence.

  Loki could see; the female was near to term. At this stage, weeping was a common occurrence in those carrying.

  “Now, what are all these tears for?” Loki reproached softly, gently stroking her dishevelled limp tresses. He had little control over nutrition or their living conditions; they were mainly brought in when they were noticed, because they’d become an annoyance. Otherwise, the pregnant ones were left to themselves to fight over the food.

  The young teen looked up at him, her soul in her eyes. “I want to keep my baby,” she whispered, tears brimming and ready to spill. “I want to raise it. I feel it kicking; I love it. Don’t let them kill it. Please.”

  Much as he wanted to, there was no use giving her false hope. He was powerless to stop this cycle in the prison; if one got away with its infant, the Roog would hunt her down and kill both.

  Tears of sympathy filled his eyes.

  How many others are like-minded?

  Tusha gave action to her empathy. She moved closer. Knowing what she was about to do, Loki moved to block the view of the guards, who had stepped back to give him space.

  “Love it with all your heart, as long as you can. It’s the best that can be done in here,” Tusha advised quietly, slipping a sliver of chocolate into her palm. “Eat it when they aren’t looking,” she whispered in her ear.

  When that one had been sent away, to ease the tension, Loki turned to Uel, working nearby with another set of females. “Uel, when you first came, didn’t you tell me, your sentence was near its end? Why are you not being sent home?”

  “Ha!” declared the Feline. “Didn’t I tell you, we never get out of here? My sentence ended a week ago. But there is no one to miss me out there; no one will force my release. I’ll be here ‘till I die…”

  Loki shook his head.

  Surely something can be done about that.

  He lifted his second patient to the cot. She was just beginning to show, though she was extraordinarily thin.

  “Beth?” Tusha gasped in shock, and Loki turned to look at her.

  “You know this one?”

  Tusha nodded. “We were brought in at the same time.”

  Loki looked more closely at his patient. She was lethargic, like a distant wounded animal, her mind far away, somewhere deep inside her. This was traumatized withdrawal here, abuse of the worst kind, which had not been perpetrated by the guards alone.

  That’s when Loki remembered Tusha’s condition when she’d first been brought to him.

  Was Beth with Tusha when my little female received that mistreatment? I never asked what happened.

  “Did this one see what happened to you?” he asked of Tusha.

  His cellmate nodded quietly.

  “And who was responsible, Roog or human?”

  Tusha would not meet his eyes, though he knew she knew to what he referred.

  “The inner damage, Tusha,” he clarified.

  “Human,” she reluctantly admitted.

  “And, do you know if this one and the she beast are still together?”

  With her hand, Tusha gently turned Beth to face her, searching deep into those empty eyes. “Yes,” she said at last. “They remain together. Lana is a cruel one…allows her little food.”

  “How far along is this Lana?”

  “By what I see in Beth’s mind, they were both bred at about the same time.”

  Loki grunted with disgust, and turned to the guard behind. “You watch the cage this female is in?”

  “Yeah, it’s my station. Why?”

  “This one receives no food. How do you expect her to produce if not fed?”

  “And how do you know this? It doesn’t talk.”

  “I have my ways.”

  “Neither you nor your pet has a translator. You understand their speech without?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s gibberish to me.”

  Loki brought the conversation back to the matter at hand. “Separate the she from the others.”

  The Roog growled. “There are only three in there. We never keep them single.”

  “There is another that you did not bring?”

  “Yes, an older cow. Gives us less trouble then these two put together.”

  “Perhaps, the real trouble maker is the seasoned one?”

  The guard frowned, pondering the words. “I’ll watch more closely, from now on.”

  “See this one gets dry bread; it will stop the nausea.”

  ****

  Just before Loki was finished with Beth, a commotion in the doorway behind made all turn to see what caused it.

  When Loki stepped away to meet the new arrivals, Tusha saw it was a huge Roog guard carrying a very pregnant older woman by the neck. All his captive wore was a thin shift, which was wet from the waist down. Yellow-brown fluid dripped from between her legs, as if she had let go her water in fright…or her water had broken!

  “This one is already delivering,” growled her warden, indignantly. “She was trying to hide the fact. More and more these stupid things are hiding their labour until it’s almost too late. You’d almost think they were intelligent.”

  He jarringly plunked the hapless woman on the nearby bed, and stepped back out of the way, joining his companion enforcer.

  Neither Roog seemed to consider there was any danger their charges might flee, and so stood at ease, simply waiting for the physician to complete his task.

  Though each guard was relaxed, they had suddenly become excited, their jaws slightly open, slavering with anticipation…as if they expected to be fed.

  Loki pushed his new patient back against the cot, bent her legs toward her belly, and spread the knees wide apart, revealing her lower naked private area. Tusha could now see, the baby’s head was already crowning.

  With one last scream and a forceful push on the part of the mother, the infant escaped its inner safe haven. Loki expediently caught it, placed it between the woman’s feet, tied off the cord, and cut between the sections. He then lifted the squalling newborn, and placed it between the breasts of the mother to ensure it quieted. The tiny creature was a girl, and it immediately sought a place to comfortingly suckle.

  Loki turned to fill a basin with water to wash the blood from his new patient. The guard who had brought them in stepped forward, and the Noor hissed a warning.

  “Stay back. You know, if there was any sense to your methods,” he complained. “You’d at least save some of those birthed as new stock. This one’s female. You could let it be raised…”

  The guard growled low in his chest, as if being denied his conquered kill. “It goes to the kitchen. That’s our orders.”

  As both male guards came forward to answer Loki’s challenge, the occupant of the bed saw her chance. In one fluid motion, cradling her treasured baby, she rolled from the table and dropped.

  Trailing a river of blood, as
the afterbirth had as yet not expelled, she fled for the entrance to the tunnels…right into the arms of Bom!

  The giant Roog/Feline caught her up by the hair, and with the other hand on her shoulder, soundly snapped her neck, abruptly ending her life. The bawling infant suddenly dropped from her limp arms, hit the floor with a liquid thud, cracking its back with an audible crunch, ending a strident scream in mid scale, mercifully silencing the ill-fated baby girl in death.

  In disgust, Bom tossed away the carcass of the mother, and headed angrily toward Loki. Loki hissed, and backed up, attempting to shield Tusha and Beth on the other cot behind him.

  “You dare defy me, Noor?” growled Bom. “This time I have a torture wand with me. Do I need to use it?”

  Tusha enveloped Beth in her arms; both were now visibly trembling, fear flooding every fibre. To them, the whole episode was reminiscent of when Lana gave birth in the stalls.

  Wisely, Loki eased his stance, but said nothing.

  “You have been lax, Noor. That cow should not have had the opportunity to escape in the first place. I hold you responsible; I’ve lost a valuable commodity. And that means I must punish you, or lose face.”

  Loki moaned, sensing what was coming.

  “Two more months will be added to your sentence!” Then dismissing the matter, Bom turned on his heel, and barked an order to his sentries. “Take this dead meat to the kitchen, and return the other shes to their stalls.”

  In a near whisper, Loki dared to object. “The one is my…pet.”

  Bom turned back, laughing. “Oh, that’s right. She’s the old one: no good to breed, and of little use.”

  As the one guard grabbed for Beth, reached for Tusha with his other hand, Bom stayed his action.

  “Leave that one. We’ll wait for it to fatten.”

  For the first time since the delivery had begun, Tusha allowed herself time to think. If Bom had heard what went through her mind, he would have done more than just growl.

  But it was Tilk who had the venomous thoughts:

  Beware, Demon Roog Cat! You would not like the taste of us, and should our blood infect you, and I have the choice, I will never include your carcass in the assembly of my Noor peoples!

  And Tusha vowed, as well: