by James Hunt
"How many this time?" She asked the gathered onlookers. Five Zecarins stepped forward in various manners of dress, with one only half dressed. The others dispersed to see to their own chores, or to enjoy some quiet time in their tent after that alluring display of her flexibility. "Right. Begin!"
Without a sound she ran to the nearest tree, leapt, placed one foot on a withered knob, and vaulted up to the nearest branch. All eyes followed her as she climbed, in leaps and bounds, up to the top of the tree in a matter of seconds.
"Is she part squirrel?" one of the soldiers joked, and some laughed in response. "Wait, where'd she go?"
"You blinked, idiot. Too busy making jokes." The half naked Hekarim said as he turned to follow something unseen moving high above. "She's over there now." All other eyes tried to follow where he was looking, but once they had lost her they couldn't recapture a visual tracking on the pale-skinned elf.
High up in the treetop canopy she stood poised delicately on a flexing pine top. The world spread out before her in all directions. Niyana wanted to grasp this moment of peace, but there was a purpose to this. She scanned the geography all around her. The Zecair territory spread to the south - the Alcabalhain mountain range, with the Hekarim capital nesting underneath it, was a ghost in the distance. To the north and northwest spread the wilds of the neutral territories – wild areas that buffered Zecair and Lunar, populated by a handful of frontier lands held by savage humans. To the east, past the open plains of the Lidark River was the human kingdom. It changed names after every uprising or revolt, or conquering by its enemy across the great sea. These events occurred every couple of hundred years – humans were a warmongering lot. She was now solidly within Zecair territory; they had been traveling in the opposite direction she and Kreth had gone after leaving Zecair.
The Lidark disappeared into the trees when it came east – this was what separated Zecair from the neutral territories. Somewhere, deep in the woods right beyond the river was this monastery Kreth was taking her to. It couldn't be seen easily from this distance; either it was obscured by trees, or something else. But it had to be in that direction, it wouldn't be safe for a human settlement to be much farther into the wilds of those territories.
Niyana paused in her search and look down to the base of the tree she was in. Far, far below, the ground still stood undisturbed. She would wait a bit longer before returning to the camp and repeating this exercise. It was one thing to train them to track an Lunarian they had, but more importantly she needed to know if they could find one they lost.
Kelria stirred awake. Soft strokes on her cheek brought a smile to her face. But as her eyes opened and she saw a grey-blue skinned Hekarim stroking her cheek, the illusion of comfort disappeared. Timidly, she pulled the blanket up to her neck and tried to smile appreciatively at him. She had seen him around, but had not been asked to entertain this one. He was one of the strider riders, more refined and graceful than most of the brutish soldiers here. There was a glint of devious intelligence in the way he looked at her. She suspected that his visitation here meant he had needs just the same.
"Good morning kitten." He said with a silky voice. Kelria smiled bashfully, but didn't move. His soft fingers ventured up her cheek to her long ear, and traced the upper ridge to the tip. Kelria's eyes fluttered for a moment as she struggled against the goose bumps that ran over her skin.
"You see, we are not so different," he chuckled. Propped up on one elbow, his eyes roamed over the features of her face, and his fingers soon followed. They paused when they came to her Yvarna, the cursed mark on the side of her neck. "Will you indulge me? I wish to know what this is, it seems important." He said softly. His voice was so gentle, she could hardly tell him no. Even as her voice started to speak without her consent, the fact he was asking about something so personal and embarrassing was enough to break the spell his touch was having over her.
"It is called the Yvarna, it is a curse." She said.
"Does it hurt?" he asked as his fingers stroked it softly. The side of her neck, halfway between shoulder and jaw was usually sensitive in Lunarian women, but this mark dulled the skin around it.
"It feels nothing," she said. "It isn't made with needle and ink, but with magic."
"Really?" his fingers flowed down her shoulder and traced the ridgeline of her collar bone. "To receive a magical curse, you must have done something very wrong in the eyes of your leaders. I wonder if we would view your deed the same way." his hidden meaning was an almost hypnotic suggestion.
"I.. I..." she started to say, but the words caught in her throat. "I betrayed my lover."
"Oh? You sly minx you." he laughed lightheartedly. "It is not such a terrible crime amongst us, so long as you profit from it, and harm no others. Oh, but I see this is uncomfortable for you, so I will pry no further. I merely wanted to engage in an exchange of... pleasantries." He trailed the word off his silken tongue as his fingers found their way back up to her ear to massage the backside of it. Kelria's mouth parted with a faint sudden inhale of breath. He certainly knew his way around a woman's body.
"I have a patrol to run, but I would like to exchange more pleasantries later tonight, in a very casual and civilized manner... Would you like that?" The way he played with her ear made it difficult to focus on his words. Kelria found herself nodding in agreement despite herself.
Disappointingly, those expert fingers stopped, and he rose and left her tent without another word, leaving behind a flushed and embarrassed Kelria. She threw on a beige colored shirt that was growing tattered with travel, along with a pair of tanned lizard skin leggings one of the riders had handed down to her when her dress was caught on a bush and torn beyond repair.
She spent the rest of the day in seclusion in her tent. Kelria left only to get meals from the cookfire, and returned promptly to her tent without interacting with the Zecarins. They didn't mind her avoiding them. Ever since The Cat had made her a part of this troop, she had also effectively made her off limits to any recreational activity. According to The Cat it negatively affected morale and performance. Kelria had no argument against that; it gave her some semblance to normality despite being a member of the enemy's scout party.
Kelria stirred the half eaten bowl of stew wistfully. Her life had certainly taken an odd turn, and just when it seemed to be mellowing out, she was dragged back into the crucible again. Somehow it all seemed too unfair to be real, but she tried not to brood on that too much. Niyana would save her. Her queen would fix this. Ever since they met on that bloody fateful day she had felt there was finally hope for herself. The strength she had seen in Niyana was inspiring to say the least, but she was also compassionate and fair, cunning and flexible in her reasoning. It was a rare combination to find in an Lunarian nowadays, she thought. All those she had met lacked one or the other qualities, usually embracing some form of zealotry. The king had swept the people up in his crusade to purify the nation's spirit. Anyone found lacking was severely disciplined, or worse...
Kelria's hand drifted to the mark on her neck to echo her thoughts. Touching it sapped her strength of will and all the troubles came rushing to her mind again. She collapsed backwards in a cloud of her long brown hair onto the bedroll. When faced with depressing thoughts she did the one thing that usually helped. She napped.
Niyana was once again standing proud and tall in her secret meadow. The wind picked up her free-flowing blond hair and tossed it about around her. Dressed in the stitched leather uniform of the Leaf Knights, she stood alone to take in the scenery around her...
She opened her eyes and scanned the treetops around her. The wind picked up and the pine top she hugged her body to swayed gently in the breeze. This was her element; the chaotic storm of feelings inside her were finally being suppressed and beaten into submission. Her eyes relaxed and the details in the far distance expanded to become clearer. The mountainous hillside that rose high to the north was covered in pines, but there was movement within. The tree swayed again in the breeze
, and Niyana moved with it. It took a moment for her eyes to refocus on the distance, but she could pick out something humanoid at the tree line near the top. It disappeared into the brush, but in time she saw more in the distant pines. She picked one tree in particular that was bustling with activity and let her eyes drink it in. Lunarian farsight took time to perform, but a well trained soldier could see details at impossibly far distances. These details came slowly as her pupils dilated. She saw a man. A man dressed in colors that blended with the forest. Familiar colors... Lunarian colors...
Niyana held her breath as she strained to see his face. If she was right, his head would be covered by a cloak, and she saw that it was. But her proof needed to be definitive – she needed to see his face, she needed to be absolutely sure. But he had moved out of range before she made it out. Something else caught her attention that she hadn't noticed before. What she thought was a motionless rock at the base of the tree seemed to have a certain hunched figure. It was too dissimilar to be a rock or flora. She focused on it and the faint, unmistakable glint of highly reflective eyes – Lunarian eyes engaged in farsight – stared back at her.
Niyana fought to stay perfectly still. She hadn't covered her head; her blond hair would be a dead giveaway if he was looking at her – and as far as she could tell at this distance, he was. A nervous lump crept into her stomach; she couldn't take cover and risk drawing attention to herself. If he hadn't seen her yet, he would if she dared to move.
From the curtain of his mottled grey cloak a hand appeared, and it gestured at her. She read the signals, and the nervous knot in her stomach grew worse.
Camp. Safe. Come.
The hand disappeared and he remained still as a rock again.
Niyana blinked her eyes and slowly let them readjust to short range vision. Her breath returned, led by a nervous chuckle. Careless! Reckless! - she had forgotten procedure that had been grilled into her for years. Apparently her time in Zecair and out here in the wilds had quickly taken all that training away. Yet that wasn't the problem that made her uneasy. Her loyalties had turned fluid since her escape from Zecair, her people wanted her dead and her blood-enemy was the only one giving her safe refuge. But this Lunarian scout, if he was indeed a member of a Leaf Knight platoon, might be her best chance of getting information. No doubt if they knew who she was, they would not be friendly about it.
That was just the beginning of her problems. The Hekarim patrol she was with would not like the feeling of having Lunarians so close to their border, especially if it was a platoon in such numbers. If she wanted to go pay them a visit, clandestine or not, it would make many of the Zecarins suspect her true loyalties. They might not let her go without a fight if they knew what was at stake.
Then there was Kelria. Niyana could leave now and make a straight line for the Lunarians, hopefully avoiding any of her new allies on the way. But Kelria would have to pay the price for her absence. Taking the bookkeeper with her would slow her down considerably and make them both easy targets for the Zecarins. She couldn't do that to her. Logic told her to go for it, but she was having enough trouble sleeping at night as it was, she wasn't going to continue down that dark path anymore.
Niyana closed her eyes and let her decision settle into her soul. She wasn't going to abandon Kelria. Somehow she was going to have to come up with a reason that would throw the Zecarins off her trail. Her loyalties would need to become fluid once more.
The answers wouldn't come right away. She needed to return to the camp and check on Kelria. Hopefully by then she could come up with a reason to convince The Cat to let her go for four or five days. Cautiously she descended her tree. The forest floor had never been as welcoming as that moment. There was finally something she could do besides simply survive. The flutter in her stomach turned to excitement and anticipation; this was her chance to find out what had happened since her captivity.
The walk back was quiet and uneventful. Her trainees seemed to have given up trying to find her, and when she made it back they were all lounging around smoking some rolled up dried leaves. They paid her no notice, and she couldn't have counted herself luckier – that particular leaf would addle their brains. She paused before the shirtless one that seemed half decent at tracking, who was sharpening his spear head.
"Is The Cat out?" she asked casually.
"Yep, Wart-ass has the command." He mumbled with a smirk. Niyana scowled, but perhaps this was for the better. She had never learned his true name, but the loud-mouthed Hekarim rider owned more wart-based nicknames than she thought possible.
"Got it." She muttered and wandered the camp until she found him tending to his mount. The young strider lizard was feasting on meat scraps while its master wiped it down with a wet cloth. She stopped short of him and waited. She wasn't sure how to address him; they had never gotten along. His massively muscled, and very battle scarred back always made her uneasy – she wouldn't want to meet him in battle.
"Yes, Elth?" he said calmly. It seemed he would be receptive to this; his mood was always hard for her to determine.
"My mission compels me to leave your hospitality," She started. Her long walk had resulted in honesty being the best course of action – flavored with a little fabrication based on her cover story.
"Yes, this monastery you spoke of." He repeated calmly. Niyana had the sneaking suspicion that it was The Cat that made him so irritable. His calm tone of voice led Niyana to believe that this could actually be settled peacefully. She didn't continue, her words needed to be chosen carefully, but it wasn't easy for them to come. "How far away is it?"
"Two days." She replied.
"Armed patrols?"
"None that I could see," Niyana answered, letting her brisk demeanor melt a little. If Wart-Ass was going to be civil, she would be too. 'Sure, let them think it's a patch of humans'. She thought with a smirk to herself.
"Awhile back, we spoke of loyalty." He said. "The Cat will fail by her actions, and hers alone. But that will be a long time in coming. She doesn't take risks. The routes we have been running are well within our borders. This job is...easy."
"I see."
"No you don't," he growled. "Threats to our sovereignty should be squashed. These humans are too close to our borders and should be wiped out like troublesome insects.
"Now, I see more clearly." She offered.
"Do you? Can you Elth?" He grumbled. An uncomfortably awkward silence came between them, as it often did when her attempts to disarm him with her charm were quickly and immediately shot down.
"Enough to be mindful of what my limits are," She said
"You are learning," he scoffed. "But unwelcome just the same. I don't want you around here." Niyana stared at the tense muscles on his back, she could resolve all her problems if she chose the next few words correctly.
"North of here, three days by foot, is a mountain range. I saw a meeting on the hillside between some humans, and what I suspect were Lunarian scouts. Their camouflage cloaks hid their features, but it was the same type I am familiar with." The Hekarim rider stopped grooming his mount and turned his head, his one good eye scrutinized her. "I want nothing to do with the Lunarians, just the humans. But I thought you might find that information useful. What you do with it is your own choice." He turned around and crossed his arms over his chest and stared her down with that piercing eye. Niyana didn't budge under his scrutiny. The silent air between them grew heavy.
"You are no blood-traitor." He summed up after a long thought. "So you are not our ally. For whatever reason your people hunt you, pray they find you before we do. Leave. Now, and take your slave with you."
Niyana bowed her head respectfully and broke their eye contact. With a grunt he picked up his rag, soaked it again in the bucket by his feet, and resumed wiping the dry skin of his mount. Niyana left quickly. She couldn't have asked for a more fortuitous exchange. The more she played over all the conversations she had had with this group, the more it fell on The Cat's shoulders – she had given
her permission to go as she pleased. Wart-Ass was simply following orders. A derisive scoff escaped from her brooding thoughts as she returned to her tent with a scowl – Wart-Ass was right, The Cat was a failure away from death.
The flap to their tent was easily pushed away, and inside she found Kelria still huddled in her bedroll. The girl looked up with a blank expression to see who it was and when she realized it was Niyana she sat up respectfully. Her queen placed a quieting finger to her lips and made hand signals to the girl, hoping she had at least been trained in them by the Yvarna captain.
Pack. Pulling Camp. Now.
The girl nodded, and to Niyana's relief started pulling their things together. She did so with surprising efficiency and silence. It gave Niyana some much needed hope about the girl's chances. While Kelria packed, Niyana found her boots and leather vest and started to suit up her own gear. The fabric strained to retain her womanly proportions; it gave her a twinge of guilt to remember this outfit had not been made for her, but the Lunarian girl Kreth had killed. Kelria had noticed her change in demeanor and had paused to look up for instruction. Niyana was lost in thought trying to remember the girl's name – the one she had impersonated among the Yvarna.