by Davis Ashura
Jessira smiled and punched him gently on the arm. “If you had tried to fight them alone, I might have killed you just for being stupid.”
“Then lucky for me I was wise enough not to go after them.”
“You’re learning,” Jessira said. “Now, let’s look for a way out of here.”
She scanned north. The trees and undergrowth quickly thinned as the hills soared upward, exposing the heavy, black rock. There appeared to be a thready trail in that direction. The horse might have trouble with it, though.
Jessira pointed out her find. “Look.”
Rukh followed the line of her finger and nodded. “Good eyes,” he said. His gaze flickered over her. “amongst other things.”
She made sure he saw her eye roll.
Aia had a hold of Rukh’s scent, and this time, she would not release it. Well, not exactly his scent. It was more a flavor of his mind. She liked the aroma of his thoughts, and she almost shivered with excitement at the notion that she would soon experience them again.
Aia only wished she was traveling alone to meet her Human, but it wasn’t to be. After hearing her tales all winter long about the wonders of Rukh’s fingers and hands, several of her younger brothers had decided to accompany her north. Younger brothers were pests at the best of times, but these two could teach a gnat how to be annoying. Shon and Thrum. Idiots. However, since they wished to learn the truth about her tales for themselves—and truth in storytelling was a key facet in the lives the Kesarins—Aia couldn’t turn them away.
But if they thought she would share her Human with them, they had better be prepared for bloody noses.
*Do not touch anything,* Aia warned her brothers as they entered the firelight. *Rukh is very sentimental about his things and creatures. Follow me into the camp and be calm. No growls or snarls or your noses will be bled.*
Shon, a tawny, lean Kesarin, the youngest amongst the three of them, thought himself clever. He yawned.
Aia growled at the disrespect. She unsheathed her claws and Shon’s tail curled between his hind legs. His ears drooped.
Better.
Thrum, a rare russet Kesarin, was thicker than Shon and taller. He was only two seasons younger than Aia and still filling out. With his build and intelligence, Nanna thought he might one day challenge for leadership of the Hungrove. That is, if he ever learned wisdom. The fool sat there cross-eyed, staring at a butterfly that had alit on his nose.
Aia watched for a moment before turning aside with a shake of her head. She paid them no more attention. She had more important things to attend to. Such as Rukh. She wanted her Human back.
She stepped into the small clearing where he and his not-mate had stopped for the night. She nervously skirted the fire before stopping before him. She sat down, tail demurely curled before her feet and waited for him to approach.
He grinned, displaying his unfortunate flat teeth. They looked like they belonged in the mouth of a wildebeest. *Aia,* he called out, happiness in his voice. *What are you doing here?*
*I missed the flavor of your thoughts.*
*I missed you, too,* he said, *but how did you find me?*
*I listened,* Aia said with a cock of her head. *How else?* Sometimes her Human could be so obtuse, overlooking that which was obvious.
*My mind?*
*Of course.* Aia glanced at the female, who was staring at them with a sense of wonderment. *Your not-mate looks healthy.* She lifted her head and sniffed at Jessira, immediately reconsidering her words. *Or is she your mate now?*
Rukh smiled. *Jessira isn’t my mate.*
Aia sniffed. *She smells like your mate.*
*Thank you for saving me,* the female, Jessira, said approaching slowly. *When I was sick, Rukh told me what you did for me.* Jessira had a pleasant voice, soft but firm. Plus, she had good manners. Aia decided she liked her.
*You are welcome.*
Rukh smiled, and without being told, he scratched her chin.
Aia’s eyes hooded as she stretched out her head, and the line of her mouth became flat. She purred. So good.
He stopped, and she glanced at him, wondering why. She hadn’t instructed him to cease. His gaze was focused on the far side of his camp where her brothers were nosing around his packs. Shon, the bottomless pit of hunger, stared at the horse and licked his lips. Aia’s tail swished in annoyance. *The small, ugly one is Shon; and the tall, ugly one is Thrum.*
*Who are they?*
*My brothers,* Aia said.
*They can’t eat the horse. The horse is a friend.*
Aia blinked and her ears twitched. Laughter bubbled up from her throat. *Your horse dreams of rolling in a field of grass. He thinks you’re a devil to keep him from his dream.*
Rukh laughed with her. *You’re making that up.*
Aia rubbed her head against Rukh’s chest and purred. *How do you know?*
*It was a guess,* he said, scratching behind her ears.
Aia froze, and her eyes widened. How marvelous. She turned her head to the side so he could more easily reach her ears.
By now, Shon and Thrum had wandered over. Aia straightened to see what they would do. Thrum sniffed at the top of Rukh’s head while Shon stood before Jessira, tail tucked before his feet as he stared at her expectantly.
*My chin itches,* Shon said, pushing his head against Jessira’s chest.
The Human female nearly fell over, but she caught herself. She stepped back, but Shon followed. *What does he want?* Jessira asked sounding panicked.
*He just told you. He wants you to scratch his chin,* Aia said, speaking patiently as if to a kitten. She turns to Rukh. *Did your mate injure her mind when she was ill?*
Jessira squawked. *My mind is fine. I’m just not used to giant cats wanting a chin rub.*
*I thought you said only a few of your kind could speak to those who aren’t Kesarin,* Rukh said.
*Yes,* Aia said. *And Shon and Thrum are two of them.* She licked her paw in thoughtful consideration. *Recently, more have been born who are like me.*
Shon thrust his head more insistently into Jessira’s chest, eliciting a ‘woof’. *Aia says your hands are like magic.* Another thrust. *And my chin itches.*
*Fine!* Jessira rubbed hard at Shon’s chin, a look of annoyed concentration on her face. Soon the tawny cat was lying on his side, head tilted up. His eyes closed as he purred his pleasure. Louder and louder he rumbled. One of his rear legs pawed the air.
Thrum watched all this, his eyes wide with fascination. With a swish of his tail, he shoved his head between Aia and Rukh. *My chin itches, too.*
Rukh knew what Thrum wanted, and he rubbed at the sensitive area directly below the point of Thrum’s chin. Soon Thrum was lying on his belly, pushing his head against Rukh’s hand, purring like distant thunder.
After a few minutes, Shon stood to his full height. *Truly wondrous,* he said. *Everything Aia claimed. Thrum thought she was lying.* Shon rubbed the corner of his mouth against the top of Jessira’s head. She kept her balance with a slight stumble and avoided Shon’s attempt to rub the opposite corner of his mouth against her head.
*My ears itch, too,* Thrum said to Rukh.
*I’m not your servant,* Rukh informed him.
*You’re not?* Thrum stared at him intently. *My ears are very itchy.* His tail switched. *I think you should rub them.*
*He is my Human,* Aia said, nosing between the two of them. *Find your own.*
*This one is mine,* Shon proclaimed.
*I think not,* Jessira said with a smile.
*Quiet, Human,* Shon said.
*Quiet yourself if you ever want me to rub your chin again.*
Shon blinked in astonishment. *You wouldn’t.*
*I would.*
He flopped to his belly and rolled on his back, stretching his legs as far as they would go. He stared at Jessira with his head upside down. *But why?* he cried plaintively.
Jessira’s annoyance fell apart. She laughed and rubbed at Shon’s chin once again. *Last ti
me,* she said.
Thrum mewed in sadness. *I want a Human.*
*I’ll rub your ears if you’ll stop whining,* Rukh offered.
Thrum immediately flopped to the ground.
Although she didn’t like Rukh’s hands on another Kesarin, Aia felt sorry for Thrum. She allowed her Human to rub her brother’s ear, but she soon had enough. She pushed between his hand and Thrum, pressing her forehead against Rukh’s chest and rubbing the corners of her mouth against his shoulders. *It is good to hear your voice.*
*It’s good to see you, too.*
She let him rub the side of her face before pulling back. *My brothers and I wish to explore the mountains. I will visit you again in a few weeks so you can rub my chin once more.* She laughed. *I know how much pleasure it brings you. And next time, bring others of your kind so Thrum can choose his own Human.* She stepped away from Rukh and called to her brothers, a low, brief growl. Shon and Thrum both stood up and joined her. They paced out of the campsite, the two males eyeing the horse hungrily before exiting the light of the fire. *Goodbye, Rukh. Until next time.*
Along the western flank of Mount Fort was a scree scattered trail at the base of a steep ravine. Wide columnar rocks loomed to either side with many of the formations slumping down in broken pieces, littering the trail with their debris. The sun stood high at its zenith, but the spring sunshine was wan and distant in the shadowed gorge within which Rukh and Jessira trekked. Their footfalls crunched on the loose rocks, sounding a counterpoint to the fitful wind moaning with a hollow echo through the ravine.
This was the final leg of their journey back. Earlier in the day, they’d come across a squad of scouts and dropped their Blends after both parties became aware of one another. The lieutenant in charge had briefly questioned what they’d seen before sending them on toward the Western Gate. He’d also let them know about the surge of Chimera activity this spring. For the past few weeks, the Fan Lor Kum had been seen working their way deeper into the Privations than had ever been recorded. Their presence so close to Stronghold had everyone concerned, especially since there had even been a few sightings of the Sorrow Bringer as well. But then, two weeks ago, it had all stopped. The Chims had pulled back and returned to their more usual spring encampments.
“It almost seemed like they were searching for someone,” the lieutenant in charge of the scouts had said. “They must have found whoever they were looking for. Poor bastards.”
Rukh and Jessira had kept silent upon hearing the lieutenant’s questioning statement. Who knew how the scouts would have reacted had they learned the truth. They’d merely mumbled a word salad response of dull and bland sentiment, a reaction unlikely to be remembered or raise suspicion.
While it was true that Stronghold needed to know of the Queen’s response when Rukh had cracked open The Book of First Movement and the events following, such a discussion was one best held before a closed-door meeting of the Home Senate; not before a squad of scouts.
“The Western Gate.” Jessira pointed to a narrowing of their trail, a place where large rectangular rocks leaned against one another and formed a tall peaked tunnel, one that was invisible from above.
The sunshine didn’t penetrate far into the passageway, and they walked in a chill and murky darkness. After a final turn, the tunnel brightened under the light of a single, dull-red firefly lamp.
From there came the actual gate, a slit in the mountain about the same width as the East Gate: twenty feet with a guardhouse hunched above. The portcullis was up and several warriors stood watch.
Jessira received a cursory glance from the guards while Rukh was favored with a more thorough examination. Some of the scouts eyed him with awe, others with curiosity, and a couple with resentment or even dislike. Overall, it was still a far warmer welcome that he received compared to the last time he had entered the city.
“Word’s already come down. Major Pile is expecting your arrival,” one of the guards said. “You’re to report to him immediately for debriefing.”
The lieutenant they’d come across earlier had sent a scout racing back to inform Army West of Rukh and Jessira’s return.
Jessira saluted acknowledgment of their orders while Rukh merely nodded. He hadn’t yet accepted his commission into the Home Army.
They passed beneath the portcullis, took another sharp turn, and entered the long throat of Hold Passage West. Murder holes abounded along the length of the passageway and dull-red firefly lanterns provided a dim light. After a quarter-mile or so, the tunnel abruptly widened, opening into West Lock. A thick wall separated the fort from Hold Passage West and was defended by a score of warriors who nodded a brief welcome to Rukh and Jessira. They were allowed to pass unchallenged through the stout ironwood gates on into West Lock.
Once inside, the tunnel opened up even further, becoming a large cavern full of training squares and buildings. After unpacking the gelding and leaving him at the stables, Rukh and Jessira made their way to the major’s office. Rukh fell in behind her.
“Do we tell the major about The Book?” Rukh asked.
“We have to,” Jessira replied.
It had been the answer Rukh had expected. He only hoped the people of Stronghold wouldn’t expect him to turn The Book over to them. He’d been the one who had risked life and limb in order to retrieve it. By his way of thinking, the only other person who had any claim to it was Jessira. Otherwise, he owned it by all the laws of salvage; but there was also a deeper reason for Rukh’s reluctance to hand it over. He wanted a chance to read it again, somewhere safe and far from Stronghold. He’d witnessed the last moments in the life of Linder Val Maharj, the First Father; but it seemed like there was so much more he could learn from it. He wanted to study The Book of First Movement.
They soon reached Major Pile’s office and waited a few minutes before they were shown in to see him.
The major, a graying warrior in his late forties with the softening stomach of someone too accustomed to sitting behind a desk, questioned them at length about their journey. When they had finished, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. His jowls, already sagging, seemed to hang lower. “Rukh Shektan,” he began. “For once, could you please enter Stronghold and not overthrow all we know to be true,” he entreated, sounding simultaneously disgusted and weary by their account. “Can’t you for once just come back and tell us that there’s flooding in the hills above River Tame? Or that the pass through Babylin’s Hope is snowed in?”
“Sir?” Rukh asked, unsure what he’d done wrong this time.
“Think about it, and I’m sure you’ll understand what I mean,” he said with another sigh.
The major sounded upset. Good. Rukh hadn’t forgotten how Pile had treated his request to join Army West. “I will if it would make the major happier, sir,” he replied, unsuccessfully hiding his scorn.
Major Pile chuckled, apparently sensing the sarcasm. “You’re a handful.” He hesitated a moment. “I am sorry for how I treated you when you came to me. It was wrong of me to have done so. I hope you’ll give me—and all of us, really—a chance to earn your forgiveness.”
Rukh nodded. He was willing to forgive, but it would take more than a few words for him to do so. He would need actions that matched the major’s generous statement.
“I almost feel sorry for the senators if they try to take The Book away from you.” He must have noticed Rukh’s sharpened gaze because his own became penetrating as well. “You know they will. You’ll have to fight to keep it.” The major turned to Jessira. “The two of you are to report immediately to the Home Senate. If you’re right about the Sorrow Bringer and The Book, they need to know about it. They should be in session right now. I’ll send a runner ahead of you to prepare the way.”
“Yes sir,” Jessira responded. She snapped off a salute with military precision, turned on her heel, and left.
Rukh nodded politely before seeing himself out.
Again, Rukh followed Jessira’s lead. She took them through Strong-hold, headin
g for Home Croft, although she paused on occasion whenever she ran into friends or family. Rukh tried to make himself as unobtrusive as possible during those reunions. And thankfully, other than a few hooded glances thrown his way, he was generally ignored during those get-togethers.
“Stop scowling so much,” Jessira said after one particularly long, dull reunion. “And you are allowed to answer with more than one or two terse words when someone speaks to you.”
“I’m not scowling,” Rukh protested. “And I’m not saying much so you can have some time to yourself during these reunions.”
Jessira shook her head in disgust. “How can he see so well and be so blind?” she muttered. She stopped and turned to face him. “People want to get to know you, Rukh. You’re the Trials Champion, the finest anyone has ever seen. Half the people we’ve met so far are in awe of you, and the rest are worried they’ve somehow offended you.”
“They’re in awe of me?” Rukh asked in disbelief. It was one of the more ridiculous notions he’d ever heard.
“Of course they’re in awe,” Jessira replied.
“And the worry? Why would they care? They didn’t last time I was here,” he noted, trying to let go of the bitterness the memories provoked.
“They’re afraid you might not teach us what you know. They all know you have little reason to love Stronghold, and their own role in that antipathy.”
Rukh smirked. So, they weren’t afraid of him on a personal level. They were only worried about what he might not give to their precious city. “The famous Stronghold pragmatism.” This time the bitterness leaked out.
Jessira heard. She knew him too well. The frown left her face. She stepped forward and took his hands. “You’re not a man made to hate, Rukh,” she said, staring him in the eyes before kissing the tip of his nose. “Let it go.”
Rukh nodded. “I’ll do my best,” he said, relaxing his posture. Until that moment, he hadn’t realized how tense his shoulders were.
“Good,” Jessira replied. “We’ve a meeting to attend. Try to keep up, love.” She walked away, her gait loose, relaxed, and confident. Jessira was happy to be home, and no matter how conflicted Rukh had been about coming back to Stronghold, he was glad to see her joy.