by Jools Louise
Chatan frowned at her, and she snorted softly. “You don’t think I do? That bastard would have gutted you like a fish, stabbed you in the back, just to take what you have. You belong to me now, Chatan. There’s no way he’s getting his grubby hands on you.”
Chatan arched a brow, amused at her fierce spirit. She was more than a match for him and his brothers. He had the feeling she would be first in line to go after Taima when he arrived in the valley…which meant he would have to stay on his toes. His feisty little dove didn’t know what Taima was capable of.
The crowd settled and Chatan lifted his hands with palms outward toward the sky. Calling on his ancestors, and the wolf spirits who had bequeathed him his gift, he offered his thanks to them, and then encouraged his tribe to line up. Once he had shared his blood with each of them, they would begin to change. His wolf pack would be stronger, faster and have the ability to hide in plain sight. That was going to be Chatan’s biggest weapon against Taima.
* * * *
Taima was wary as he led his warriors proudly into the large valley, hearing a wolf howl in the distance. He ignored the picturesque scene before him, instead focusing on the array of tepees dotted about. Horses grazed peacefully, and cooking fires abounded, steaming away gently. A low mist hung over the small settlement, creating a hushed air about the place. In the early dawn, he rode quietly, his horses’ hooves muffled by booties made of leather.
He had nothing but contempt for those he pursued, who ran like rabbits rather than face him as warriors. He did not think it at all unusual that there were no sentries, or no scouts. He would have put such measures in place, but it was obvious that he was chasing an inferior force. They were stupid to think that he would not follow, taking no precautions. They had taken something that belonged to him. He would scalp every last one of them for that.
Nothing stirred around the tepees, and he curled his lip into a sneer. This would be the fastest slaughter in the history of his people. A second wolf howled, this time closer. He disregarded it, and raised his fist, spear in hand. It was time to take back what he was owed—in blood.
A rousing war cry rang out from those around him, reverberating through the mountains. Kicking his steed into a dead gallop, he raced between the tepees, hoping to scare his enemies into fleeing him in terror. It would be a pleasure to cut them down in their tracks.
His warriors sped behind him, spreading out and whooping in fury. Hooking up logs from the fires, they threw the flaming torches at the tepees, igniting them so that they were soon ablaze, lighting up the sky.
In a fury, Taima wheeled about, snarling in disgust. Where were they? Nobody ran from the tepees. They were all empty. What was this outrage?
He flinched when he heard howling wolves, this time a continuous roll of sound that had the hairs rising on his neck. From one side of the valley to the other, surrounding him, the mournful song rang out. His warriors looked fearful, exchanging scared looks.
“This place is sacred,” one young brave shouted. “This is a bad omen.”
Taima glared at the brave, who was barely a man, and launched an arrow, shooting the young man and hitting him in the chest. He fell from his horse, groaning. Instantly the others looked angrily at Taima. The brave was well liked. A boy, really.
“This is a trick,” Taima screeched, spittle flying from his mouth. “They are not spirits. They are wolves that is all.”
Instead, the warriors all turned their backs on him, and then left, staring warily at the mountains as they departed with their young brave. Taima screamed after them, cursing them all for their cowardice. He was not afraid. No wolf was going to finish him off.
He heard a cry go up from the departing braves, and stared after them. A large group of wolves was moving toward them, and as he watched they changed into men, warriors who were clad in war paint, breech clouts, and carried weapons. They surrounded the invaders who were by now terrified, their horses dancing around at the sudden appearance of about ten wolf-men.
“Taima, why do you hide like a coward behind these boys?” Taima heard Chatan taunt him, and stared as his nemesis walked on two legs, proud and tall, his brothers following. As Taima watched, the trio shifted to wolf form, leaving Taima unnerved and angry. He fitted an arrow to his bow and aimed at the wolf who was Chatan.
“You will die this day,” he snarled, only to fly off his horse as a raging furball attacked him, leaping from nowhere to take him to the ground. He felt his throat gripped between sharp fangs, felt powerful jaws crush his windpipe as he scrambled to get to his dagger.
A second wolf joined in the fray, this one ripping at his abdomen and leaving him clutching at his intestines as his muscles were torn apart. The third wolf, this one a blonde one with sharp blue eyes, came stalking up. His life was fading, and as he looked into the azure gaze, he felt as though he was drowning. The blonde wolf yipped at the other two, who leapt off him nimbly, and then sat to the side, watching the proceedings.
As he watched, the wolf changed into a petite female, with long blonde hair and vivid blue eyes. He tried to snarl, but his throat refused to work, and only a painful gargle came out. She held a dagger in her hand, her eyes blank as she approached. Grabbing a hank of his hair, she leaned closer and smiled, an evil smile that sent the first shiver of fear through him. He had thought Chatan a fool. He had, instead, outplayed them all. Taima had forgotten about the wolf legend, not really believing it to be true.
“Taima, you put my family at risk,” whispered the blonde, touching her blade to his hairline. “You hurt those I care about for the sake of your pride and vanity.” He struggled to breathe, his vision fading, and blinked against the film that obscured his sight. “We will be free. You will pay your penance in hell, trapped for an eternity.” The blade sliced across his scalp, searing him and leaving him in agony as he tried to scream, but could not.
Stepping back, the blonde stared down dispassionately as Taima writhed on the ground. Chatan moved into Taima’s line of sight, his dark gaze solemn and cold.
“You and Bimisi stole something from each of us,” Chatan intoned emotionlessly. “Parents, brothers, sisters—our homes. You stole them. Now you attack your own warriors, boys who are barely able to fight. Are they the only ones who take you seriously?” he sneered. Taima clutched at the ground, grabbing a handful of grass that he stared at in bewilderment.
“You are no warrior and deserve no such honor in death. Flo?” Taima was puzzled, struggling to comprehend the sudden change. Where was Flo?
“This is for all of us, coward,” Flo suddenly said, her voice cool. Then a sharp point pierced his spine, twisting slowly. He tried to crawl away from the unbearable pain. The blade cut deep, spearing vital organs. As he died, slowly, he heard their footsteps walking away, leaving him to gasp out his last moments without honor, and bleeding onto the lush grass.
* * * *
Kajika turned his horse, bracing for attack, and rode slowly back into the valley. He kept his hands raised in a gesture of peace, guiding his horse with his knees. Surrounding him were at least ten braves, who had recently transformed before his eyes from wolves. He was still reeling, but with his young brother, Kele, held against him, an arrow in his chest, he was not too proud to seek help…even from his erstwhile enemies. He would do whatever it took to save his brother, even if it meant offering his own life as a trade. His brother was barely fifteen, and did not deserve to die so young, from a coward’s last traitorous act against his own people.
He saw the alpha, Chatan he thought he was called, standing beside the corpse of Taima. Kajika had heard Taima’s screams, and had rejoiced that the man had finally met his end. For his traitorous act against Kajika, he had deserved to perish. It was fitting that the females had finished him off. Taima had been brutal. Glancing behind him, Kajika saw his warriors riding quietly, their eyes wide as they kept staring at the tribe of wolf shifters who were also Comanche. They held a powerful magic, a gift from the great spirits. This would be a go
od place to stay, if Chatan allowed them to. They had quietly discussed what they should do, and had all agreed to return and offer their strength to the new tribe. This was a place of freedom and new beginnings. Back through the mountains was imprisonment, certain death from the soldiers, and a lifetime of quelling their fierce spirit.
“You show great courage…or great stupidity,” Chatan said, crossing his arms across his chest and glaring at the group of ten young males who had returned. The other fifteen had fled, back through the mountains.
Kajika nodded to his brother, who was losing blood fast and looking pale, his eyes closed. “My brother needs medical attention,” he said, staring at Chatan. “Taima shot him. Kele will die if he doesn’t get help soon, and I cannot lose another brother. I will offer my life in his place, but please…” he practically sobbed out this last bit, and shuddered as he tried to compose himself. It would not do to show such weakness in front of these people.
“Come,” a female voice said softly, and he looked into the vivid blue gaze of the petite blonde woman. She had a strength and calmness about her that soothed him, but he glanced at Chatan for permission to dismount.
The alpha rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Mary,” he chided, getting a glare in return.
“Don’t Mary me, Chatan,” she said, scowling. “These are boys, brought here to fight by a coward. They are not our enemy…Taima made them come here. Just look at how young they all are.”
“I’m nineteen,” Kajika said, frowning, and sat up straighter, pushing his chest out proudly.
Mary smiled at him, the beauty of her dazzling him and leaving him breathless. He blinked, startled.
“Well, then, that’s okay, isn’t it?” she said. “Now are you going to help your brother over to get medicine, or are you going to argue about your age?”
Kajika flushed a little. “I will come with you.” He nodded and slid from his horse, Kele still in his arms.
Chatan gestured to two large men who looked similar in looks. Brothers, perhaps. They fell into step behind Kajika as Mary led him to an undamaged tepee a little way from the original settlement. Already the burning tepees were charred skeletons, and Kajika could see people hard at work cutting new saplings to build new homes. He felt a twinge of regret, since Mary was right—he was not their enemy. They had done nothing to him. Taima had wanted brave young warriors to fight an evil foe, and Kajika and his friends had been eager to prove their mettle. Seeing that they were to fight a village of their own people, and women had been involved, made Kajika feel ashamed of his bloodlust. He had left his common sense behind and allowed himself to become a fool. And his brother’s life was the price for his stupidity.
“I’m sorry we attacked you,” Kajika said quietly. “We were…”
“You’re warriors, that’s what you do,” Mary said casually, and ducked under the flap of a tepee, urging him to follow. “I presume that you listened to Taima’s lies about who we are. He was not an honorable leader, was he?”
Kajika felt ashamed at following Taima, for he had known the man was evil. He flushed, following Mary into the tepee. Inside, he placed his brother atop a thick fur blanket as Mary called for someone named Taa.
A young girl in her mid-teens came running into the tepee, carrying a large leather pouch.
She smiled shyly at him, and he nodded, spying a familiar figure just behind her. Dichali, who looked distraught, was wringing his hands as he entered the tepee.
“Kajika, how can I help?” Dichali asked, kissing Kajika on the cheek. Kajika turned his head, kissing his lover. A sudden giggle from Mary had them parting, flushing a little.
“Well, that was unexpected,” Mary laughed, looking intrigued. “I didn’t know…I had no idea that…”
“That our people enjoyed same-sex relationships?” one of Chatan’s brothers asked dryly, and she shrugged, looking a little embarrassed.
“It’s forbidden where I come from,” she said, blushing as she helped Taa prepare Kele.
Chatan entered the tepee, looking at Kele with concern. “How is he? He sounds bad.”
Mary looked sad, and shook her head. “I don’t know,” she replied. “He’s lost a lot of blood, Chatan. I don’t know if he’s strong enough to make it.”
“No!” Kajika screamed, and felt Dichali’s arms hugging him close as he cried out. “He can’t die. I won’t let him die. Do anything to me. But let him live, please. The soldiers took everything, our home, our family—everything. They herded us like cattle and left us to die where we dropped when the pox came. They forced us to march into their prisons. My parents sacrificed themselves so that we could escape. My brother will not be sacrificed.”
“Easy there, Kajika,” Chatan soothed, placing a firm hold on Kajika’s shoulder and squeezing hard. “There is a way to save him, but it may not work. He may be too far gone to survive. And the spirits may not grant him this totem.”
“What? How will you save him? Do it, please,” Kajika sobbed, clutching his brother’s hand in his.
“I can try to convert him to a shifter like us.” Kajika blinked, not expecting this. The powerful medicine that flowed through Chatan’s veins was a gift not to be shared lightly.
“I will try anything,” Kajika said firmly, before the offer could be revoked “What price do you ask?”
Chatan looked at his brothers, who both nodded, and at Mary and then Taa, who smiled and offered their agreement. “Only your loyalty, and allegiance to our new tribe,” Chatan advised. “We intend to remain here for as long as possible, and then in the spring decide whether to move on or not. We ask that you and your friends remain with us, and convert also. We would like the strength of your warriors’ hearts in our ranks. You have been brave this day, to ask for help for someone you care for.” Chatan looked pensive. “Family is everything to us.”
Kajika nodded slowly and held out his hand. “As it is to us,” he said. “I would be honored to follow you. I will ask my people for their opinion.”
Chatan smiled at that, and nodded. “You are indeed wise, despite your youth,” he said, chuckling at Kajika’s pout at the age reference. The kid was cute when he got all haughty. “While you ask your people, I’ll start the conversion.”
Kajika frowned at that. “I would prefer to stay and watch,” he said, not budging.
Chatan rolled his eyes, and lifted Kele’s hand. “We need to get the arrow out, but perhaps if I start the conversion, his body will reject it by itself.” Kajika stared, fascinated, when Chatan bit his own wrist, and then Kele’s. Dripping blood from his wound into Kele’s, Chatan held his palm to Kele’s forehead, and murmured a few words, eyes closed. Instantly, Kele looked healthier, his cheeks pinkening, and the edges of the wound around the arrow started to heal. Kajika let out a gasp of astonishment as the arrow actually moved, slowly and surely reversing its position.
“Your totem is powerful,” Kajika told Chatan, in awe.
“Should your people agree, it can be yours, too,” Mary said, grabbing for the arrow as it was pushed out. “Should any of them not want to join us, they will be escorted from this place. There will be no more killing today.” She fixed Chatan with a warning glare, which he responded to with a wry glance. Kajika liked Mary’s temerity. She had a warrior’s spirit.
“I will go and speak to them,” Kajika responded. Rising to his feet, he fled the tepee. The dawning sunlight above had him blinking, as though he had just emerged from a deep cavern or something. It felt as though he had been inside the tepee for hours, but it had only been a few minutes. He needed to see what his friends thought of it all.
He had feared his friends would be under guard, but were instead sitting down to enjoy a bowl of venison stew and some flatbread. He sniffed, suddenly hungry as he approached the fire. One female handed him a bowl, smiling at him as she patted his shoulder.
“Is your brother okay?” she asked. “Taima was always the cowardly one of our tribe. His cousin, Bimisi, was as bad as he was. I’m sorry that
your brother was injured.”
Kajika nodded, feeling ashamed once again, and ducked his head, embarrassed by the warmth from everyone in camp so far. “I…er…thank you,” he stammered, blushing.
“Your friends here heard everything,” she said, smiling. “They already want to be converted after seeing what we could do.” Then she stared at the mountain pass, where the rest of Kajika’s party had fled. “It’s a shame that the others were too afraid to stay. We would have welcomed them, had they wanted to remain here.”
Kajika looked at her, and then decided to come clean. “They went to fetch the others,” he admitted, seeing her raised brows.
“Others?” Etu asked as he came over, two huge black men in tow. All three looked intimidating as hell, staring at him sharply.
“Our elders were taken to the reservation,” Kajika said. “When we agreed to follow Taima, our sisters and cousins, the females and little ones in our tribe, followed behind. They are guarded by four of our more powerful braves. And my sister Dyani.” This was said with a wry tone, for his sister was twelve years old, and believed she was invincible. She was a handful, always getting into mischief. He missed her a lot.
“We should see if they’re okay,” one of the big black men said, his voice deep and gruff. Admiring his thickly muscled body, Kajika saw the warning look in the female’s eyes as she stared at him.
“Harmony and Raven are off limits,” she said, shaking a finger at him. He smiled slightly, and nodded. “I’m Bly, by the way. They’re my mates.” Kajika stared at her, and raised his eyebrows, then saw the smug little twinkle when she looked at them. Harmony waggled his brows, smiling.
“Dichali will be mine,” Kajika said, and heard a squeal from the tepee he’d just left. Smiling, he looked behind him and saw Dichali running toward him, a delighted expression on his face. Leaping forward, Dichali wrapped himself around Kajika and kissed him fervently.