Doom and the Warrior

by Lexy Wolfe

  “I will always try to take care of Doom. I have always done my best to keep him safe. I knew how then. I have to work at learning how to do so now.” She looked towards her waiting friend. “I will try better about taking care of myself. I do not want to upset him again like I had.” She turned a deeper red when he leaned close to kiss her cheek before turning back to cross the bridge back into Crossroads.

  She watched him for several moments before hobbling to rejoin Doom. She accepted his supporting arm and they headed deeper into the more rugged terrain of the Northern Territories.

  HEAVY RAIN CLOUDS typical of the season made the early morning sky dark as night. The downpour filled the air with a rush of sound through the few remaining leaves and the evergreen needles. Some distance from the road, a fragile shelter made from a tent tarp secured to a tree, several large boulders and a low hill protected the two weary travelers from the worst of the elements.

  After poking the fire and adding more wood, Doom checked the security of the bandages around his arm and leg. He reached up to turn the drying clothes hanging on a low branch near the flames’ heat then stirred the stew cooking in a small pot. He smiled as he looked at the panther curled asleep beside him, stroking the ruff of fur behind her head. He smiled more when she nuzzled closer to him. “Wake up, Ti. Supper’s ready.”

  Tiwaz raised her head, yawning hugely and stretching, then laying back down atop her cloak. The panther blinked at him sleepily, then looked pointedly at his bandages. He chuckled, telling her in reassurance, “I checked them. They’re fine. They aren’t more than scratches, nothing to worry about. You did a good job bandaging them.” He looked towards the leg she had been favoring since the attack in Crossroads. “How are you doing?” She shrugged one shoulder. “Sorry I hadn’t noticed that wash before the bank gave way under us.”

  Tiwaz shrugged again, then rested her head on his unhurt leg. She glanced up at him when his stomach growled loudly as he spooned stew into one of the bowls. Hungry as he was, though, he offered the first portion to her. He frowned when she wrinkled her nose and turned away.

  His contentment faded into growing concern. “Ti, what’s the matter? You need to eat. You’ll feel better.” He put his massive hand on top of her head. “You aren’t fevered, are you? It is hard for me to tell unless you’re really bad off.”

  She swatted at his hand irritably. He could read her expression when she looked pointedly at the sack with their depleted food supplies, then back up at him. “Don’t worry about the supplies. There’s plenty up here I can hunt or find.”

  When she sighed, he put his hand on her shoulders. “Stop that. I know what you’re thinking. You are not useless. That beating in Crossroads nearly killed you and having to start traveling before you healed up… again…isn’t helping. I promise. Once you are completely healed, I’ll start teaching you how to hunt again so you can help.”

  He chuckled when she perked up at the promise, though her ears twitched to the side, aggrieved as he put the bowl in front of her. His smile faded in worried earnestness. “Please eat, Ti. You need proper food and rest. You’ve not been eating nearly enough since you woke up at Gareth’s home. It’s worrying me.” With great reluctance, she ate her food without further argument. He nodded in satisfaction and turned back to the rest of the stew.

  “The Tavarius family was very generous, giving us this pot and the other things. Luck smiled on us when you met Gareth, even if you did want to gut him.” He did not bother with his own bowl, eating directly from the pot. They both looked up when the wind gusted, the flames flattening briefly before reaching upwards again. “Everything should be dry by morning. Good thing you can change form whenever you want so your fur can keep you warm.”

  She raised her head, ears twitched back slightly. “I know not everything got soaked, but you admitted yourself that you don’t notice the cold as much as a panther and it’s only going to get colder the further north we go.”

  Growling, she stepped over him and nosed his bandaged forearm, then look at him meaningfully. He repeated with plaintive emphasis, “They’re just scratches, Ti.” She bared her teeth and he held up his free hand in surrender. “Fine, fine. We’ll stay here one more day. Two at most. Would that satisfy you?” Returning to the cloak serving as her sleeping place, she flicked her tail as she turned in a circle and lay back down.

  He looked in her bowl and frowned. He sat it in front of her. “Finish it, Ti.” She looked away, growling in her chest. He wagged a finger at her. “Don’t growl at me. That’s barely what you used to eat normally. Since we’re going to stay here a while, I can go out and set some traps.” He exhaled gustily at her continued glare. “I am not so injured I can’t do that much. I’d rather not wait until we have no food at all.”

  Still, the panther refused the food. “Please, Ti. Eat it. For me?” She sighed and lowered her head to eat, though her reluctance was undeniable.

  Finishing his own supper, he put the pot and her empty bowl aside. “You can fill the water skins and wash everything while I’m out. I won’t be long.”

  The weather and sky cover made it impossible to see the rising sun, but Tiwaz backed away from Doom, her body contorting as her form returned to its human shape.

  “We cannot stay living under tarps in the forest,” she stated in a rough voice. “And you said your map does not help much up here.”

  Doom gathered gear and moved outside the shelter to put things on without risking the tenuous security of the fabric fastened to trees. “Gareth suggested that most of the settlements up here are more tolerant of outsiders who are…different. Character, not external appearances, is what matters most to those who settle here.”

  She blinked at him. “You want us to…go where people are?”

  “We cannot run away from people forever, Ti.” He put his finger beneath her chin, turning her face up to meet her eyes. “While we were fleeing Alimar, I learned that we cannot survive alone. The captain and crew of the Trade Winds, Harther, Sevren and Marren, the Tavarius family, even those dragons at Dragons Gate. All of them helped us.”

  “No one knew what I was. If anyone finds out what I am,” she whispered, agonized. “They will see a monster.”

  “Gareth found out,” Doom pointed out gently. “And nothing changed with him. But your control over the change is improving, so really, no one ever needs to find out.”

  She sighed, looking away. “If you think it is best,” she finally said quietly. The woman let her larger companion pull her into his arms, returning his embrace.

  “I promise you, Ti. I will find somewhere safe for us both. A home to call our own.” He stepped back, letting his hands slide from her shoulders. “But for now, we survive, and that means finding food. I should be back before sundown.” She nodded silently, watching him disappear into the thick forest.

  NEAR THEIR MEAGER shelter, Tiwaz looked out at the overcast sky. Careful not to disturb the assorted fallen branches Doom had placed to camouflage their shelter, she emerged with their depleted water skins. She tugged her cloak closer around her shoulders then headed towards the sounds of flowing water. She crouched unsteadily on her still healing leg and started refilling them, her eyes scanning the area to spot some sign her friend was returning soon. She pressed her lips together as she completed her task.

  High pitched shrills of fright mingling with snarling barks interrupted her return to the campsite. Her hand instinctively dropped to the hilt of her knife as she hung the skins and her cloak on a branch before she ran towards the sounds. She slowed briefly to assess what she found. Her eyes narrowed in recognition and barely restrained hatred of the pair of creatures. “Griliks.”

  The beasts appeared as a cross between the hyenas and wolves she used to fight in her youth, ugly with a severe case of mange. The two were attacking a dragon nest. Many eggs lay broken, their contents spilled onto the forest floor. Bodies of hatchlings were strewn everywhere, the two throwing the little bodies around. She saw one remaining ha
tchling scrabbling at the steep wall of the nest, drawing the attentions of the monstrosities.

  “No!” Tiwaz leapt over the things, landing between the dragonet and them. The two beasts paused as she crouched, knife flashing in the light. “Death only for survival,” she hissed at them. With an inarticulate yell, she lunged at the closest grilik, dodging its snapping jaws to drive the knife through its eye and into its brain. As it dropped, she turned her attention to the other. “Not to entertain!”

  The beast hesitated, torn between fleeing and attacking. That moment gave Tiwaz the advantage. She leapt on its back and drove the knife into its chest. It collapsed under her and she rolled off onto her knees, panting. She wiped the blade on its hide and slid it back into its sheath, then turned to the alley cat-sized infant dragon.

  The panicked reptilian flapped tiny, undeveloped wings, biting and scratching until it realized she wasn’t harming it. It chirped at her, licking the places it had broken her skin. She smiled faintly. “It is okay, little one. I have endured worse.” She looked at the other bodies and sighed. “I will stay with you until your parents return.”

  Shortly, the sound of leathery wings drew her gaze up to a pair of dragons the size of draft horses. Their hides were mottled moss green and damp earth browns, and their eyes flashed with fury and confusion at the sight before them. The larger one with the blunter muzzle lowered its head, growling. It drew back when the smaller one with a more tapered muzzle snapped at it. It backed away, allowing the other to approach Tiwaz.

  Without fear, Tiwaz held out the dragonet, holding it supportively. “Forgive me. I did not get here in time to save more than this one.”

  “A pink skin helps dragons?” the first dragon said as the smaller one lowered its head to allow the tiny survivor to climb onto it. Grudgingly, it stated, “We owe you a debt for our child’s life.”

  “There is no debt.” Tiwaz met the larger dragon’s eyes, determined. “Death should not be enjoyed. I will not tolerate senseless cruelty to any living being.” She looked to the little dragon. “May this one grow strong and wise.” The two traded bewildered looks as she turned and headed back to the shelter, retrieving the water skins and her cloak along the way.

  Tiwaz looked out into the darkness, worry darkening her expression. She hesitated only a moment, having promised Doom she would wait for him. Then with determined resolve, she stripped and took her panther form. Without a second thought, she loped deeper into the forest, following the unique tang of the gromek’s scent in the air.

  Pain-filled shouts and dissonant shrieks became audible and she ran faster until she reached her friend. A pack of massive, wild boar with razor-like tusks had Doom backed to the edge of a wash overlooking a crevice so deep the bottom was shrouded in mist-filled shadow. His lower legs and hands bled from their attacks after he had gotten the tiny deer carcass thrown over a branch. Unable to steal his kill, they focused on him.

  The ground under his feet crumbled and he grabbed a sapling before he tumbled into the darkness below, falling heavily against the now exposed rock. He wheezed, trying to catch his breath and squeezed his eyes shut tight, waiting for the beasts to descend on him. He looked up sharply at a roar, watching the dark form of the panther leap over the boars’ backs. Tiwaz stood between them and him, snarling and lashing her tail.

  “Ti,” Doom wheezed, trying to catch his breath. “Ti, don’t! There are too many for you.” He struggled to pull himself up, the pain in his hands almost blinding him. “Too dangerous! You never trained to fight as a panther!”

  Unsure if she was ignoring him or had slipped so far into her combat focus she never heard him, Doom couldn’t say. He watched in dismay as she leapt at the first one to move forward, sinking her teeth in the soft spot just behind its foreleg, her back claws raking its softer underbelly. The beast shrieked, mortally wounded. The others turned their focus on this new obstacle and threat. Her ears flattened against her skull as she roared defiantly.

  Her roar was answered by two more. Both Doom and the boars looked up as the two forest dragons Tiwaz had helped earlier descended. Three boars died in moments, the rest fleeing. The larger dragon walked over and, with an attempt at being careful, grabbed Doom’s belt and lifted him back onto more secure ground. The dragon met the panther’s eyes. “Now there is no debt, panther shape-shifter,” it stated in brusque tones. The dragons then took the corpses of the boars they had killed and left, leaving behind the one she had slain.

  The gromek got to unsteady feet, regarded the panther as she climbed the tree enough to grab hold of his kill and pull it down. Maneuvering it across her shoulders, she grabbed her kill, then looked up at him, waiting on him to follow, worry in her eyes for him. “Thanks for coming after me.” He smirked faintly at her. “But I thought I told you to rest!” Her eyes reflected her amusement as they headed back to their shelter.

  BY THE TIME they reached their shelter, Doom could barely stay on his feet. He watched Tiwaz through pain-hazed eyes as she jumped up a tree to put the small deer then the boar on a branch. Alighting on the ground, she changed shape and held the canvas aside. “The fire is out,” he said distractedly as he leaned against the rock wall of their shelter and slid down to sit.

  “Then I will relight it,” she stated matter-of-factly. “Rest. You are too injured.”

  “But you don’t have much practice,” he began, falling silent at the hard look she fixed on him. He managed a smile and sat back, staying silent. Though she failed repeatedly, she kept trying with focused determination until eventually a fire crackled in the fire ring. She turned back to examine his injuries after slipping her trousers and tunic back on.

  He started to speak, but she held up one hand to silence him. “I know what needs to be done. The clothing is not good for much anymore.” She took out her knife and began cutting the fabric above his elbows and below his knees. He hissed as she pulled the tattered cloth free of the gashes and lacerations the boars had inflicted. As she very carefully pulled his gloves and boots off, he hit his head on the rock in reaction to the pain. The new pain distracted him from her ministrations.

  With infinite care and patience, she thoroughly cleaned the wounds, removing any foreign matter from them. She slathered the injuries with healing salve and wrapped them. He leaned back watching her work. “You have a gentle touch,” he murmured. “Perhaps you should consider becoming a healer.”

  She almost smiled, shaking her head as she picked up the tatters of fabric and got to her feet. “No. I am no healer.”

  “Could have fooled me.” He held up his hands, flexing them experimentally. The bandages moved with him but stayed in place. “You’re really good at this, Ti.”

  “Thank you.” She did not look at him, hesitating at the canvas door. “I had a good teacher.”

  “You did? Who?” he asked, wracking his brain for who it could have been. He felt as though a tree hit him when she replied.

  “You.” She ducked out before he could respond.

  He cursed under his breath, the memories of their life in slavery flooding back and the innumerable times he had to tend to her grievous wounds. “Of course you would have learned,” he muttered to himself. With a sigh, he forced himself to sit up, reaching for the small stew pot.

  “Don’t touch it!” The gromek blinked, and could not help but grin when she added, “I will know if you touch it. So don’t. Rest.” He sat back to wait. In too much pain to fall asleep, he sat back, staring at the flames. When she returned with the washed tatters of fabric and several large pieces of fresh venison, he looked up at her.

  “I am so sorry,” he said fervently. She looked at him blankly, confused. “Now I understand why you had been so irritable since you were able to stay conscious after you were hurt badly. I never realized how maddening it must be for you to do nothing while I took care of everything before. I know I should just rest to give everything a chance to knit closed, but it is making me crazy not doing anything.”

  “I never
understood how worried you must have been when I was hurt or when I would fight.” She kept her eyes fixed on cutting up some of the meat for the stew pot and laying strips on a smooth, flat stone she moved closer to the heat. “I do not know what I would have done if you were hurt more. Or worse.” She stopped, closing her eyes and clenching her fists against her thighs. “I don’t want to let you out of my sight ever again because I am afraid of what might happen if I am not there.”

  “Ti,” he called in a soft voice, holding his arm out. She immediately moved to his side, curling against him as he put his arm around her. “There has always been the chance something could happen to one of us.”

  “I know,” she replied in a small voice. “But when we were still slaves, I always knew it would have been Alimar’s fault. We were helpless. Now, anything could happen. Some of it things we could guard against. If I just had been with you—”

  He hushed her, stroking her back. “We both might have been killed. You don’t have the knowledge of how to fight in your panther form. It was those dragons that saved us.” He looked down at her. “Why did those northern forest dragons help us? I heard about them, but I’ve never seen their kind before.”

  “The larger one insisted they owed a debt to me. When I was refilling the water skins, I heard griliks attacking their nest.” She closed her eyes, turning her face against his chest. “It was not as if the griliks were killing them for food. They just tossed the hatchlings around. For fun. There was one still alive. I couldn’t allow a youngling to suffer. But I could only save one dragonet.” He tightened his arm around her in reassurance. “I am glad they helped, but there was no debt. How could I ask for anything? I failed to save the others. So many helpless younglings dead before they could live.”