by K MacBurn
As gently as she could manage the teen pull her shoes off and hung them on a low branch, in an attempt to keep the crawly things out. Taylor then peeled off her socks and winced when she saw the state of her feet. Blisters the size of quarters covered them. The ones on her heels and the balls of her feet were the worse with bloody skin coming off in sections.
Tarak’s sympathetic smile turned into concern. He picked up one of her feet to get a better look at the damage; Taylor blushed this time.
“It’s fine,” she tried to insist, “I’ll be good.”
“Those are bad, we have to clean them and put on some bandages.”
Taylor didn’t see much point in arguing with the obvious.
Tarak laid out cloth bindings from his satchel and went looking around the trees for a certain plant. Once he found the right one, he ground it up between two rocks making a paste.
He was gentle as he smoothed the herb over the affected areas, then wrapped both feet in bandages. The big cat looked up from what he was doing and met her gaze.
“Your shoes are not made for a long distance,” he observed. Taylor looked over at her vintage Converse and had to agree. “When we make it to the city, we will find you some proper footwear.”
“I might just need to toughen up. A couple hour hike is the most I have done in the woods. And our forests are not humid like this.”
Tarak seemed interested in her world, so once the wounds were treated, they sat down next to each other and spoke about life, school and nature.
After the short rest, Taylor put shoes back on, this time with some extra padding and they started off again.
When the sun set on day two, Taylor was done in. She hadn’t slept the night before; her feet hurt, her body was protesting every move, and that was all on top of the side effects of the extreme heat.
Tarak had barely set the bag down before Taylor was asleep, sitting against a tree.
Having seen no sign of anyone following or that the Sabres were nearby Tarak decided to risk a light sleep, himself. Before settling in, he used his cloak to wrap the human in a warm cocoon, eliminating the need for a fire.
As he settled in close by, he couldn’t help but study the human. She slept deep, not accustom to being on the alert for danger, the state of her feet showed she was not used to long treks, and the daytime heat seemed to almost bring her to her knees.
With all that going against her, she barely complained, didn’t slow or ask for any special treatment. The human was tough.
Tarak had been a cub with his father when the last human came through the gate, but he still remembered what the man had looked like. An older Shaman-type with black skin and hair. He had his skin painted with white and seemed to worship the image of Arrow as of he were a God.
From the old stories this was how the humans of Nexus used to be as well. She did not fit within that limited knowledge.
She looked different. Smelt different. And although a few basic skills of survival may elude her, there was a great intelligence behind those odd eyes.
He was obligated to protect her, it was his duty as a Guardian. But when she was close to him, he felt as though protecting her wasn’t enough. Something about this human made him want to be better.
The slight movement and sound of her breaths lulled him into a sleep that was filled with unusual dreams.
It was much later the third day that the rain forest gave way to sparse trees, then to wide open plains. One minute, they had been pushing through the dense thicket, the next they stepped out into rolls of chest high golden grass that stretched out for as far as could be seen, only marred by a few groupings of termite mounds.
To the south-east, way off in the distance, Taylor could make out the lines of what she assumed to be the Walled city.
“Do not be fooled that you can see it, it is still more than a day walk,” Tarak told her.
Tarak made sure his cloak was secured in place as they pushed ahead through the open territory.
The farther they traveled out into the plains, the number of travelers and caravans increased. Most stuck to their own and made no eye contact, let alone spoke, but a few others were loud and pushy about selling their wares.
Taylor made a point to stick within an arm reach of Tarak, just in case she needed him because a few times he had to convince the merchants to leave. Even when hidden, the Tiger’s size was enough to convince them, they should not linger.
As a large caravan of drunken Rats passed on the road, Taylor pressed herself into the Tigers side before speaking.
“Is it always like this?”
“Most don’t live in cities, and the few times they travel here a year are a cause for celebration.”
Taylor watched them with interest, not noticing the red flush back through the Tigers cheeks. The human’s boldness was not what Tarak was used to, but it was a bit refreshing.
The Walled city was impressive. Massive forty-foot walls of stone stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the vegetation. City guards that patrolled the battlements with bows and arrows protected all sides from threats.
It was a neutral city in the Nexus battles, which meant everyone was welcome there, but that didn’t mean raiders and power-hungry Prides didn’t lay siege from time to time.
The individuals entering or leaving the city were not searched or stopped, but once the sun fell guards locked the gate and it would not open again till the following morning.
Many written and unspoken rules governed the great city. No one caused trouble because the city guard were quick to throw delinquents into the dungeons. Anyone unlucky enough to find themselves there then had to face the city council. They would hear charges of theft, assaults, and other criminal activity along with trading disputes and prices. Punishments for those charges ranged from a work detail, imprisonment, to public hangings.
The council, although feared and respected, was only the public figurehead. Everyone knew the Thieves and Assassins guild were the ones who ran the city. They were the reason the Sabres and other power seekers left this place alone. From the shadows they pulled the strings, and they made sure their interests were well protected. A few years before, several Animen turned up dead when the City’s council tried to disband the guild; when the dust settled and the vote was brought back up during a session, key councillors changed their minds.
Tarak assured her it was a safe city; the guild prospered when people felt safe to come and shop in peace. As long as someone didn’t come in looking for trouble, they were fine.
Taylor stayed close to the Tiger as they walked through the massive front gates. The tall iron doors stood open with a City guard at each side keeping a watchful eye on the crowds; three more stood above their heads on the torrents with bows at the ready.
Even though he had never been there, Tarak led the way. They followed the main roadways south. The stone buildings of the city center fell away to smaller wood houses with an occasional run-down business.
They passed a wood sign with “Burrows” written on it. The residents seemed to switch over from busy townsfolk to shifty alley dwellers who hid in cloaks, with only their eyes shining out from the dark.
“We are looking for the Drugger inn.” Tarak informed her.
“You realize just that name alone is creepy, right?” She whispered back.
They walked for another minute before Taylor gave Tarak’s sleeve a little tug. He turned with a questioning look as she pointed.
The Drugger was a run-down two-story building with a dilapidated sign and a few drunks lounging out front.
“Charming.” Tarak resigned. Taylor grinned. She was wearing off on the Tiger because it wasn’t like him to be sarcastic. He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Shall we?”
“Oh yes, lets grace them with our arrival.” Taylor straightened her cloak a bit.
Tarak pushed the door open and the smell of boiled cabbage, tobacco, and vomit rushed over them. Taylor gagged and tried breathing from her mouth; it didn’t help
much. Many faces turned to them, but only to do a quick inventory of Tarak’s size.
The Tiger approached the bar and was greeted by a dumpy old Goat with a dish rag.
“Can I help you?” She barked.
“We were to meet a friend here and was wondering if he arrived yet. The Croc monk, Jarden?”
The goat surprised him with a sudden mischievous smile.
“I haven’t seen Jarden for a few months now, but you say he is coming for a visit, eh?” She then licked her lips.
Taylor was sure she threw up a little. Tarak seemed to have a similar reaction, but covered it up better.
“Ah, yes, he should be here in the next day then. May we get a room while we wait for him?”
“Course you can. Two silvers per night, and we can do a fluff and fold for another copper, three coppers if you want to use the bath house out back.”
Tarak handed over the money and she handed him a key.
“I’ll keep an eye out for that tasty Jarden for you, as well.” She shimmied her bulky body a bit at the thought. “You will be at the top of the stairs, second door on left.”
“Thank you.”
Tarak snagged the girl’s sleeve and ushered Taylor towards the exit before she gagged again.
The stairs creaked and were shabby, but once they opened the door to the room, the conditions were surprising.
Two large beds covered in warm blankets and furs stood on the far wall with a single window looking out over the bright city. Someone carved the exposed wood beams in the rooms with intricate detail, and a woven wool rug covered the floor. It was also immaculate.
Taylor ran hands over the bed and smiled. It was very inviting.
“You might want to wash up before you get in there,” Tarak suggested giving her appearance a once over.
He was right; her clothes were not the cleanest from the three-day trek, nor was she.
“I have paid for the use of the bathhouse. I will take you down and stand watch outside.”
“That sounds nice.” She admitted.
Using the bedpost to keep upright, Taylor leaned over and peeked in her sneaker. It was not surprising to see it was brown from dried blood. Tarak noticed what she was looking at and kneeled down, helping ease the shoe off.
“I don’t want to leave you alone to find a shop, but those must be treated as soon as Jarden arrives, and we need to find you proper boots.”
He would not hear any fighting on that front. Once both sneakers were off, she flexed her feet to gauge the damage.
“Come on, let’s get you to the bath house so you can get those cleaned up.”
Without warning he scooped her up and held her with just one arm as he rearranged the cloaks, so it covered them both. It happened too quick for to argue or shoot him a begrudging look for being manhandled.
The bathhouse was a single room building on a stone foundation with a huge water tank outside. Under the stone was an oven-like fireplace that warmed the water to the perfect temperatures.
Tarak set her down on the edge of the doorway. Inside, steam rose from a fresh water pool in the room's center surrounded by a small wood walkway. A stone spout lead from the tank outside to the inside, letting clean water flow when the valve was open.
“There should be a clean robe in there for you when you are finished. We will get you new clothes.”
She smiled a genuine smile.
“So, you are just going to stand out here the whole time?”
“Yes.”
“Ok, but I might be awhile.”
“It’s fine.” he assured her with a smile of his own. Even with the sharp fangs visible, his face brightened. “Besides, you’ll need more than a few minutes to scrub that smell off.”
It took a moment to realize he was poking fun. She gave a huff and crossed her arms.
“It is not my fault you let me walk through that mud pit before mentioning it was a Boar wallowing site.”
“I thought you’d put two and two together once you got a whiff, seems as though I was wrong.”
Taylor threw a rolled-up towel, but he clicked the door closed quick enough it fell harmlessly to the floor.
Knowing the Guardian was outside let her relax and enjoy the small luxury of a bath.
With all the dirt and grime from the last four days washed away she took stock of her condition. Her right forearm was still bruised from the burning roof at the village, and her feet were raw, but otherwise she was fine.
The rugby captain was used to physical activity, but the continuous walking, and foods straight from the land mixed with a bit of stress had leaned out her body to where the muscles in her legs, arms and abs were visible.
With tender steps, she pulled the thin white robe on and tied it around her waist. Once she had gathered the pile of folded clothes and a cloak, she went to the door and peeked out. Tarak was true to his word and was still sitting cross legged in front of the door.
The Tiger turned.
“Feel better?” he asked.
She sighed and blew a kiss to the sky.
“So good!” She breathed. The teen pulled the cloak over her as Tarak again scooped her into his arms; that way she didn’t have to walk with no shoes.
Once they got back in the room, Taylor was set down on the bed with a surprising gentleness. She kept her bathrobe pulled together with a hand with a bit of blush gracing her cheeks. After she was settled, the Tiger disappeared downstairs for a moment, only to return with a platter of regional delicacies.
He sat to her left with the tray between them. Right away she had questions about everything that was there. Nothing was recognizable as actual food. The three-inch roasted grubs gave the human the most pause, but the curdled cheese-like substance followed closely.
The Tiger took great pleasure in watching the girl sample the fares. Even laughed at the face she made when a little pastry she tasted turned out to have frog eggs in it.
“Ahwww! Yuck, that’s nasty!” She screwed up her nose and clenched her eyes closed as she tried to get the texture off her tongue.
“That is a rare seasonal treat,” Tarak laughed and popped the rest of the roll in his mouth. Taylor shook her head.
“That is food if you are dying of starvation in the woods!” She corrected. The teen looked around the plate and pointed at a plant. “Nothing going to surprise me with that one is there?”
“No. That is just a leaf.”
“Maybe I’ll just stick to the green stuff then.”
“Human’s used to be decent hunters. Do you still eat meat?”
“Most of us do. Some don’t, some won’t eat anything produced from animals. Personally, I see nothing wrong with eating meat as long as they do it right.”
“If the kill is ethical, and the animal is honored, then it is fair to nourish yourself.” Tarak agreed.
Taylor paused as she considered the Tiger for a moment.
“Are Tigers big into the balance of nature?” Taylor asked, she thought he sounded a bit like the elders of her Father’s tribe.
“Tigers are all about balance. That is why we are Guardians of the Temples. We are peaceful, but will defend the weak if we must. We go with the ebb and flow of the land.”
“Then why do the Sabres hunt you? You have to hide as much as me.”
Tarak looked sad as he considered the question. Taylor wanted nothing more than to take it back, and for him to forget she asked. When she tried to apologize, Tarak waved her off.
“No, it is a fair question. Tigers are protectors, and when we turn fifteen, we start a long journey of martial training. We hone our hand to hand skills, our survival skills, and our hunting. By the time we finish our training, a single Guardian could take out a whole force of Sabre minions! It is because of that skill that the Sabres sought us out, just to prove their own worth. Ransidius puts great praise on any of his warriors that bring down a Tiger. He also has a price on our heads, plus anyone with information on a Tiger’s location.
My p
arents were the last around this area. When Ransidius found out about our gate, and that humans had come through, he personally came with his forces to take the key. My Father fought him and held his own, but Ransidius is a great fighter in his own right. It was a sad day, made even worse by the fact his Sabre forces met with my mother and infant brother once they broke into the temple.
I was fifteen and was on the first leg of my training; when I returned my family laid dead, but the Sabre’s were still there. I attacked the Sabre Lord, scratched his face, but then he threw me to his pride to finish off.”
Taylor didn’t want to interrupt him as he seemed to be getting something off his chest he had never spoken about, but he gave his head a shake and looked at her with sad golden eyes.
“Anyway, that is why Jarden fears for me. He took me in, nursed me back to health, then asked me to wear the cloak so Ransidius would not return until I was older and ready to fight him.”
“And are you?”
“I am good, but I would never presume to be in Ransidius’ league. Don’t misunderstand, I will fight him when I get my chance; if I am better, then it will be a wait and see kind of thing.”
They sat in silence for a moment as Taylor processed that information. There were still some details he was holding back, but the fact he shared something so intimate she had to give him credit.
“But enough about the sad state of affairs we face. Tell me more about your world, you have spoken about the larger picture, what about your life, your family?” He asked.
Taylor didn’t think that would be much more of a happy conversation, but she tried it anyway. She left out her stepfather mostly but spoke of her father, her school, and her pastimes.
Tarak listened and thought it all very interesting. It was the little things though that made him ask more questions. What was the purpose of bottled water? How does flammable liquid move a horseless carriage?
“Your world is very strange,” he admitted.
“I can agree with you on that. I don’t understand it at the best of times, I wouldn’t expect an outsider to.”