Rohn (Dragons of Kratak Book 1)

by Ruth Anne Scott

  He smiled at her, but his eyes kept her pinned to the spot. “You can tell me the truth. What were you doing down at the stream?”

  She stared back into his eyes, straight into the depths of his heart. He’d always been kind to her, and he showed a lot more sense than most other Avitras. He was the one who let Emily cross the border to visit her, even though the foreigners accompanied her. The other factions didn’t threaten Piwaka the way they threatened Aquilla. Those bright blue eyes of his saw farther than any Avitras she’d ever met.

  What if, by some miracle, she could trust him? What if he wasn’t just asking what she was doing down at the stream, but was in fact asking her to open up to him about Menlo? What if his questions were really an invitation to confide in him, to rely on him, to draw him into her circle of allies?

  Everything she knew about him, everything she’d seen him do, encouraged her to trust him. She couldn’t ask for a better ally. He knew everything that went on in Avitras territory, and he had a lot more influence with the Border Guard than Aquilla ever would.

  If she trusted him, if she won his confidence, she might have a real chance of helping Menlo instead of just comforting him through his ordeal. With Piwaka’s help, she might be able to get him out of this horrible situation in one piece.

  The moment the thought crossed her mind, her spirits soared the same way they did when Penelope Ann offered to help her. She never thought she’d be so fortunate as to get Piwaka on her side. If she did, the possibilities were limitless.

  She took a deep breath. “I was burying some egg shells I got from there.”

  He blinked again. “What were you doing with egg shells?”

  He wasn’t asking. He was inviting her to tell him the truth, to unburden herself of her secret. “I gave them to Menlo to eat. I brought the empty shells here to hide them so Aquilla wouldn’t find them and figure out what I’d done.”

  A trace of a smile touched his mouth. “What else have you been doing with Menlo that you don’t want Aquilla to know about?”

  “I untied him last night,” she told him. “I put salve on his wounds, and I kept watch over him while he slept. Then I tied him up again this morning.”

  Piwaka nodded, and the smile spread all the way across his face. “It’s a good thing you told me the truth, because I followed you just now. I watched you bury those egg shells. If you had lied to me....”

  “Would you have told Aquilla?” she asked.

  He cocked his head the other way. “I don’t know what I would have done. But since you did tell me the truth, I won’t tell him. I should, but I won’t.”

  “If you should, why won’t you?” she asked.

  “Probably for the same reason you did it in the first place,” he replied.

  Anna frowned. “I did it because Aquilla is a psychopath who wants to drag this faction into another disastrous war with the Ursidreans. When the Ursidreans find out what happened to Menlo, they won’t rest until they get him back. They’ll punish us for Aquilla’s vengeful folly. You must understand that.”

  He kept his eyes fixed on her face, but he didn’t stop smiling. “Is that why you did it?”

  “Why else would I have done it?” she asked. “Who in their right mind could stand aside and do nothing while Aquilla toys with Menlo like a cat toys with a mouse before he kills it?”

  “I don’t know what a cat and a mouse are,” he replied, “but Aquilla is not a psychopath. He might be a little....” He trailed off.

  Anna waited. “Deranged? Is that the word you’re looking for? He’s more than a little deranged. He’s gone completely off the rails. You heard Menlo say he has no idea who the division commander for the Eastern Divide was. He doesn’t know who killed Aquilla’s brother.”

  Piwaka shrugged. “That was a lie. Anyone could see that.”

  Anna stiffened. “What do you mean? Why would he lie about it?”

  “To save his own skin. That’s why,” Piwaka replied. “He knows, but he’s keeping it to himself. I don’t blame him, either.”

  “Then you must realize Aquilla won’t quit until he gets that information out of him,” Anna countered. “He’ll starve Menlo and beat him and torment him until he gets what he wants, and then he’ll kill him. Then where will we be? The Ursidreans will want revenge in return.”

  “You might be right.” He wouldn’t stop that maddening smile. Anna couldn’t look at that smile any longer without flying into a rage.

  “So what are you going to do about it?” she asked. “Are you going to wait until he kills Menlo and drives us to war all over again? I thought you were more intelligent than that.”

  “Intelligence has nothing to do with it,” Piwaka replied. “I think you’ll admit Aquilla is a perfectly intelligent man.”

  “He’s crackerjack,” Anna muttered.

  “Whatever else he is,” Piwaka told her, “he’s Alpha of this faction. It isn’t my place to interfere between him and his prisoner.”

  Anna glared at him. “I can see I misjudged you the same way I misjudged Aquilla. I thought you could think for yourself and act on your own judgment without kowtowing to Aquilla all the time.”

  He smiled even bigger. He almost laughed in her face. She could have slapped him if she wasn’t scared of him. “I am sorry to lose your good opinion.”

  She turned away toward the tree. “I suppose you’ll run to Aquilla and tell him everything now. You’ll tell him everything I’ve been doing, and he’ll either kill me, too, or throw me out of the village. I don’t know what will happen to me, but I’m sure Menlo won’t survive much longer.”

  Piwaka didn’t try to stop her. He kept his voice low so she hardly heard him. “I won’t tell him.”

  Anna whirled around. “Why not? You said it wasn’t your place to interfere. Run home to your Alpha if he means so much to you.”

  Piwaka shrugged again. “He might be my Alpha, but that doesn’t mean I can’t think for myself. It isn’t my place to interfere any more than it’s your place to interfere. That doesn’t stop you from interfering, and it wouldn’t stop me, either.”

  Anna stared at him. She couldn’t understand him. “What are you getting at?”

  He really did laugh at that. “Here. Take this. You’ll need it.”

  He pulled a bundle from the folds of his shirt. Anna unwound it and stared at a dead sillian wrapped inside it. These fuzzy creatures inhabited the upper canopy, and their chatter echoed through the forest every day. They lived on fruit and leaves. The last warmth of its life radiated into her hand through its thick fur. She didn’t have to ask what she was supposed to do with it. “Why are you doing this?”

  Piwaka chuckled and turned away. “He won’t last long on eggs.”

  In an instant, he disappeared. The air washing off his feathers blew Anna’s hair out of her face, and she lifted her eyes into the sunshine where he vanished into the canopy.

  She wrapped up the sillian as fast as she could and concealed it inside her shirt the same way he had. She didn’t have a moment to lose. She took hold of the tree trunk and started climbing.

  Sweat trickled into her eyes, but she didn’t stop until she scaled to the platform adjacent to Penelope Ann’s house. There she stopped and considered. How could she deliver the sillian to Menlo in broad daylight? The animal was intact with its fur still on. She couldn’t exactly hand it to him and expect him to tear into it with his teeth.

  At that moment, Penelope Ann and Aquilla came out of the house. Aquilla put his arms around her and kissed her. Then he set off across the bridge toward the village. He paused on the other side and waved back at his loving mate. Penelope Ann waved back. Adoration beamed from her cheeks, and she blew him kisses until he disappeared into the trees. Anna’s heart sank.

  When the branches stopped swaying from Aquilla’s passage, Penelope Ann turned toward Anna. She strode over the bridge, and Anna braced herself for the other shoe to drop. What if Penelope Ann cha
nged her mind about helping her?

  Penelope Ann stopped in front of her. Then, to Anna’s astonishment, Penelope Ann’s composure dissolved. Her eyes darted one way and then another. She grasped Anna’s hands and whispered into her face. “Thank goodness you’re back! I’ve been at my wits’ end since you left.”

  “What’s going on?” Anna asked.

  “It’s Aquilla,” Penelope Ann exclaimed. “He’s completely lost his mind. I don’t know what to do about him. He won’t listen to a word I say. He doesn’t hear anything but his own voice.”

  Anna’s shoulders slumped. “What happened?”

  Penelope Ann bent closer and dropped her voice. “He’s going to kill Menlo. He doesn’t even care about finding out who killed his brother anymore. He’s going to get his revenge on Menlo and force the Ursidreans’ hand. He’s going to force them to start a war with the Avitras.”

  Anna froze. “He can’t do that.”

  Penelope Ann nodded. “He’ll do it. Nothing can stop him now.”

  “What are we going to do?” Anna asked.

  Penelope Ann pressed something cold and hard into her hand. “Take this. Give it to Menlo. It’s the only way.”

  Anna gazed down at the object in her hand. A fragment of stone, chipped into a crude point, dented her fingers. She didn’t have to squeeze it to feel how sharp it was. “Where did you get this?”

  “It belonged to Aquilla’s father,” Penelope Ann replied. “Aquilla keeps it with some personal possessions in his room. It was made in the bad old days when the Avitras still hunted for their food. It was the closest thing to a weapon I could find.”

  The sillian flashed through Anna’s mind. How had Piwaka killed it? He must have used some weapon like this one. He was old enough to be Aquilla’s father. Maybe he still possessed the old hunting skills to kill a fast-moving creature like the sillian.

  “Give it to Menlo,” Penelope Ann urged her. “If Aquilla tries to kill him, at least he’ll have some way to fight back.”

  “Why don’t you give it to Menlo yourself?” Anna asked. “If you feel that strongly about it, why don’t you come right out and say so?”

  “I have!” Penelope Ann cried. “What do you think I’ve been doing ever since you left? Aquilla doesn’t hear me.”

  “Then you just have to make him listen,” Anna replied. “There must be some way to get through to him.”

  “You don’t understand,” Penelope Ann told her. “He doesn’t just not listen. He doesn’t hear. The words don’t penetrate his brain. He doesn’t comprehend anything but his own crazy plan.”

  Anna frowned. “What do you mean? What does he do when you tell him this is insanity?”

  Penelope Ann shook her head. “He doesn’t hear it. He keeps talking like I never said anything.”

  Anna gazed toward the house. “He must have really gone off the deep end.”

  Penelope Ann wrung her hands. “What am I going to do?”

  Anna hefted the weapon in her hand. “I can’t give this to Menlo. If Aquilla attacked him, they would fight to the death. No matter who won, the result would be the same. Another war would destroy both the Avitras and the Ursidreans, regardless of how it gets started.”

  Penelope Ann started to argue, but Anna cut her off. “The only solution is to avoid a fight. If Aquilla is that bent on killing him, then we have to find a way to get him away.”

  “But how?” Penelope Ann asked. “Aquilla’s men would catch him the minute he set foot out of the store room.”

  Anna smiled to herself. “Aquilla’s men.”

  Penelope Ann stared at her. “What are you going to do?”

  Anna hefted the weapon again. “I don’t know, but I won’t give this to Menlo—not yet. We just might be able to avoid bloodshed. I’ll keep this in reserve just in case anything goes wrong.” She tucked the stone into her waistband. “Thank you for this. It’s a big help.”

  “How can it be a help if you’re not going to use it?” Penelope Ann asked.

  “Just knowing it’s there helps a lot,” she replied. “Now go home. I have a job to do, and I don’t want you watching and asking a lot of questions.”

  Chapter 11

  Anna crouched behind the store room and drew the sillian and the stone knife out of her clothes. She set the animal on the boards of the balcony and set to work. She hadn’t cut up an animal since she butchered a chicken in her father’s yard, but this couldn’t be much different. She rolled the furry skin in her fingers until she worked a piece of it away from the underlying muscle. Then she cut.

  The weapon was as sharp as she expected, and the sillian’s skin sloughed off the carcass with no trouble. She opened the abdominal cavity and scooped out the organs. She wrapped the skin and offal Piwaka’s cloth and stowed it in a corner next to the store room. She cleaned off the knife and hid it in her boot. She wouldn’t tell Menlo about it just yet. With any luck, neither of them would ever have to use it.

  She ran through the situation in her mind. She could count on Aquilla not to sneak into the store room unseen and kill Menlo. He would choose a public place to execute his prisoner to show everyone what a powerful leader he was. When he decided to kill Menlo, Anna could count on some form of warning. She would slip Menlo the knife if he needed it.

  She lifted the barricade and stepped into the dim room. Menlo sat in his corner where she’d left him, but his eyes brightened when he recognized her. “I didn’t think you were coming back.”

  She stepped forward. “I wouldn’t leave you here like this.” She unfastened the cords around his wrists and ankles.

  “I don’t mean that,” he replied. “Aquilla was just here.”

  Anna’s head shot up. “What did he say?”

  “Just the usual mumbo-jumbo about how he couldn’t let the Ursidreans take advantage of the Avitras,” he replied. “I couldn’t follow half of what he said, but he didn’t have any trouble putting words together into a sentence. That guy can talk. I’ll give him that.”

  Anna shook herself. “Never mind about him. I brought you something.”

  Menlo frowned. “What?”

  Anna opened the cloth and laid a mound of square chunks of meat on the floor in front of him. He stared at them for a moment. Then, with a furious growl, he pounced on them and devoured them in a heartbeat.

  Her idea of him tearing the sillian apart with his teeth wasn’t much different than his treatment of the meat. He really was that hungry. He would tear a dead animal apart with his teeth to save his own life. Who wouldn’t?

  She sat down on the floor in front of him. When he finished, she folded up the cloth and tucked it away. He leaned back against the wall and closed his eyes with a sigh.

  “Tell me what Aquilla said,” she told him. “He must have made some coherent statement, or he wouldn’t have come to visit you.”

  Menlo didn’t open his eyes. “He’s going to kill me. That’s what he said.”

  Anna’s blood ran cold. “Is that what he said?”

  “Of course,” Menlo replied. “He wants to rub my nose in it so I’ll be quaking in fear when the time comes.”

  Anna’s astonishment turned to rage. “He’s not going to kill you.”

  Menlo peeked at her through his half-closed eyelids. “What’s to stop him? You?” He chuckled. “That’s sweet of you.”

  Anna shook her head. “Maybe not me, but something will. I think I know something that will.”

  “What could that be?” he asked.

  “Never mind,” she replied. “I don’t want to promise anything, but I might have a few options left.”

  He chuckled again and shook his head, but he didn’t answer.

  “You don’t believe me, do you?” she asked.

  He smiled up at her and shrugged. “You’ve been very kind to me, and I don’t like to deprive you of all hope. But Aquilla is Alpha of his faction. You aren’t even Avitras. You’re a guest here. What could you pos
sibly do to save me?”

  She turned away. “You’ve been locked in this room too long. The rest of the world is still going on outside. Days pass, and people talk to each other. Where do you think I got that meat for you?”

  He blinked down at the floor in front of him. “What?”

  Now it was her turn to smile. “Did you think I went hunting for it to get food for you?”

  He opened his mouth and shut it again. “I...I guess I didn’t really think about it.”

  “No, you didn’t,” she replied. “For one thing, I can’t hunt. All I did was clean the animal and cut it up for you. For another thing, the Avitras are herbivores. They don’t have any weapons for hunting. I could get in big trouble for this.”

  He nodded with round eyes. “In more ways than one.”

  She squatted down in front of him. “Some other people in the village are helping me. I don’t want to tell you who they are, because if Aquilla finds out you have help, he won’t stop until he gets you to tell him who they are. But I’m not alone. Other Avitras want to help you, and one of them gave me that meat to give to you. We’ll find a way to stop Aquilla from killing you.”

  He made a face. “Let him kill me. I don’t want to keep living like this.”

  She sat down and brought her face close to his. “Don’t give up—not now when we have the chance to help you. Hang on a little longer. We might be able to bring Aquilla around.”

  He shook his head, but his chin fell onto his chest. “You might be able to help me with your salve and some food every now and then. But what can that really do for me? I’ll probably never get home again. Aquilla will never let me go.”

  She couldn’t stop herself from touching his hand. “Don’t give up, Menlo. We’re doing everything we can. It might not get you out of here, but it’s the best we can do for now.”

  He nodded and pressed her hand. “I shouldn’t be so ungrateful. I’m lucky to have you—and your friends.”

  “I’ll try to get you some more food,” she told him. “If Aquilla stays away from you for a while, your wrists might heal a little. And I can try to come back tonight so you can get some sleep.”