by Davis Ashura
Li-Choke furrowed his brows, perplexed. Had the Tigon just spoken the Master’s name? “What of him?”
“Mother want kill him,” Chak-Soon replied.
“She told you this?”
The Tigon nodded.
“What do you think of Her command?”
Li-Choke waited for the Tigon to speak, but Chak-Soon remained silent. A surprising silence as far as Choke was concerned. He would have expected the Tigon to growl out something to the effect that a Chimera’s place wasn’t to question Mother’s orders; that their first duty was to simply obey them. The cat-like Chims had always been the most devout of Mother’s creations.
“What about the others in your claw such as Chak-Vimm and Chak-Tine?” Choke asked, naming the large, tiger-striped Tigon and black panther one. “Are they as troubled as you appear to be?”
Chak-Soon grimaced. “They not care. Duty given. Holy order.”
Li-Choke found his estimation of the ordinate rising. Was it possible the young Tigon had a mind with which to think? Perhaps a test was in order. “Hume is dead. Three centuries now since the fall of Hammer. How do we kill someone who’s already dead?”
Chak-Soon muttered something unintelligible under his breath.
“You had something to say?” Li-Choke asked.
“Mother orders not always….” Chak-Soon bit off whatever else he might have been thinking.
Choke waited but Chak-Soon refused to say anything more. “Mother’s orders aren’t always rational,” Choke finished for the Tigon. “Is that what you were going to say?”
A single, sharp, unhappy nod was his only answer.
Li-Choke’s heart swelled with hope. Could Tigons actually have the ability to reason? Even if it were only a few of them, from those small seeds, Hume’s great teaching could further flower. Perhaps the Baels need not be alone amongst the Chimeras.
It was a lot to base on one short conversation, but taken together with Chak-Soon’s previous actions—the Tigon’s offer to accept punishment for those in his command—it might just be possible. A smile spread across Choke’s broad face. How deliciously ironic. Perhaps Mother’s decision to spare Li-Choke could someday lead to further subversions of Her command, but this time it might involve Her most loyal Chimeras: the Tigons.
The part of his mind warning to slow down and not read too much into the situation was drowned out by the need to find a reason to live, something beyond fear, something that spoke of a deep-seated desire to serve and do good in this world. Since the murder of his brethren on the Hunters Flats, all Li-Choke had done was simply put one foot down in front of the other in a profoundly pathetic mime of existence.
Enough. It was time to once again grasp life in his hands and on his horns. It was time to live. It was what his SarpanKum and even the wise, young Human to whom he owed his life, Rukh Shektan, would have wanted for him.
“Have you ever given thought to brotherhood?” he asked Chak-Soon.
“Brothers. Li-Choke says all who think are,” Chak-Soon said to Chak-Tine.
The black-panther Tigon scowled. “You and Bael not crèche mates. Him command under Mother. Not right say his name.” He bared his fangs.
Chak-Soon hid an impatient sigh. His fellow Tigons lacked the wit to see what their ordinate had come to believe was the truth: they were all brothers, whether they were born of the same crèche or not. Perhaps it was because of their inborn aggressiveness. It didn’t take much to get a Tigon furious enough to unsheathe claws and go for the jugular. Even when it came to simply discussing a topic they were unused to, they tended to react with anger rather than thoughtfulness.
How had the Baels maintained their patience in the face of his fellow Tigons anger-addled stupidity?
Just then, Li-Choke strode to his side. When they had first met, the Bael had been the grimmest of commanders under whom Chak-Soon had ever served. He had crushed the incipient challenge to his rule by doing as a Bael should: by ruthlessly seizing command. The weeks following hadn’t been easy. Li-Choke had been a severe taskmaster, handing out penalties and punishments for the most minor of infractions. None of them were particularly harsh, but they never seemed to end. The Bael was either a sadist or the Fan Lor Kum had truly become as he had claimed: unbalanced and unordered. Chak-Soon believed it was the latter. At any rate, early on Li-Choke’s actions had earned him a certain amount of enmity amongst his Chimeras, especially the Tigons who had grown used to the lax discipline that had come about during their tenure as leaders of the Eastern Plague. Of course, that tenure was soon to end with the arrival of the Western Baels. It was a good thing as far as Chak-Soon was concerned. His kind were not meant to rule.
The Bael spoke up. “Chak-Tine, relieve Chak-Vimm. He has been guiding the Balants for long enough.”
A late winter storm had rolled through a few days ago. It had dumped knee-deep snow in many places and slowed the Chimeras to a crawl as they struggled to make their way through the Creosote Plains. The Balants had been set at point, breaking the trail while a Tigon remained at their side, ensuring they didn’t stray in the wrong direction. Without guidance, the baboon-like Chimeras tended to wander in whatever direction was easiest. Their progress was further slowed by the need to hunt and replenish their food stores. It was a task to which Tigons and Braids were poorly trained. They knew how to stalk visible prey, but they knew little of interpreting animal droppings or reading their markings.
In fact, were it not for Li-Choke, who did know how to hunt, the Chimeras might have already starved. As usual, Mother had chosen well, when She had set the Bael in command. He was teaching Chak-Soon the truth of fraternity amongst those who could reason—excepting Humanity, of course—and with Choke’s leadership, they were certain to carry out Mother’s mission. Chak-Soon scowled a moment later. What mission? To kill someone already dead in a city already crushed?
“Something troubles you, ordinate,” Li-Choke noted.
Chak-Soon glanced at the Bael. The traces of their stern commander were still present, but over the past month, since he had first broached the topic of brotherhood, Li-Choke no longer handed out his disciplines with the grim visage of one hoping for a reason to kill. He even smiled now and then, eliciting pleased reactions in return. Tigons prospered under the kindness of those to whom they’d willingly submitted. Li-Choke had even asked about this once, noticing the happier attitudes of the claw. It had fallen to Chak-Soon to explain how the supposed antagonism and jealousy Baels assumed Tigons felt toward them was, in fact, untrue. Tigons had pride, and they hated when those to whom they’d given their loyalty treated them with disrespect. Tigons loved acceptance and praise more than they loved fighting—though they seemed unable to turn that trick themselves when it came to their own leadership.
Chak-Soon was too young to have interacted much with Li-Dirge, the SarpanKum who Mother accused of treachery; but the older ordinates sometimes spoke of the dead commander with barely concealed reverence in their voices. It was said that Li-Dirge often treated the Tigons as equals, offering advice or even camaraderie. He had been a rare Bael, and it seemed that Li-Choke was following in the late commander’s hoofprints.
Chak-Soon scowled again. He had been praising the SarpanKum who Mother accused of treachery. Even the very word: accused was wrong. Mother didn’t accuse. Those She stated had committed a crime had done so. Mother’s judgment was never wrong.
“Something does trouble you,” Li-Choke said, noticing the Tigon’s troubled expression. “What is it?”
Chak-Soon shook his head. “Mother.”
Li-Choke nodded as if the one word answer was explanation enough. “You feel guilty over questioning Her judgment,” he guessed. “I know what you’re experiencing. Every Bael who has ever lived has struggled with that same problem: if the Queen is wrong in one small thing then in what other matters might She be mistaken.” He shrugged. “Life is so much easier with the certainty that comes from blindly following what we are told is right and just.”
> Chak-Soon was miserable. “How trust Her judgment?” he asked, feeling as if he stood at the apex of a bridge. On the far side was an untamed, unruly world where nothing was certain but hidden truths could be life altering. On the near shore was the safe existence he’d always known: unquestioning obeisance to Mother. Which way to go when so much of what he believed to be true was actually wrong?
Li-Choke sighed. “Now that is a question which has troubled the Baels for centuries. If you arrive at an answer, let me know.” His broad lips split into a grin. “For now, we hunt Hume, remember? In Hammer. The Bone Place.”
“We still go.”
“We are ordered to do so,” Choke replied. “But maybe we need not go into Hammer, just to the city.”
The Bael moved on, leaving Chak-Soon to walk alone. There had been something to Li-Choke’s final words. He hadn’t been entirely truthful. It wasn’t as the commander had said. The Baels had come to a decision regarding Mother. They didn’t trust Her, which meant they had disobeyed Her. They had been traitors just as She had claimed. But their treason had been rooted in Mother’s own incomprehensible actions and orders. Her current commands, for instance.
She couldn’t tell reality apart from untruth.
Chak-Soon gasped. He had crossed the bridge, going over to the far side where nothing was certain. It felt like thunder should have rolled, lightning smashed; but the world was the same, gray and overcast, cold and silent.
The plowed fields of coal-black loam, the deep forests of emerald stillness, and the wild sea of sapphire grandeur. Or a quiet library, the soft air crowded with the aromas of walnut oil, pipe smoke, and old paper. All are places of sentimental longing.
~Reap the Harvest by Chulet, AF 441
In all her life, Jessira had never expected—nor wanted—to visit the dead city of Hammer. The idea was silly, no better than wanting to sail the raging seas. She had many better uses of her time.
And yet, here she was, all because of some book that Rukh’s nanna insisted was important enough to risk their lives over.
Crumbled buildings stood in melancholy postures of slump and decay, their lovely friezes and carvings worn away by wind and time. The roads, whether paved with brick or crushed stone, were rutted and torn asunder by roots from bushes and shrubs forcing desperate toeholds. Vegetation choked off the medians as ivy slithered to all sides of the streets and up the surrounding buildings. A small thicket of trees, forming a young forest, had reclaimed several blocks of the city, and from it came the furtive animal movements of raccoons, rabbits, and even deer. Jessira had to step carefully around piles of scat, some of it fresh.
“Wolves,” Rukh said, breaking her reverie as she studied a still-steaming dropping.
In response, Jessira uncased her bow, nocking it. “Can’t you Fireball them?” she asked.
“I could but the Chims might hear.”
Jessira scowled. The damnable Braids. If not for the snake-like Chims, she could have been warm and asleep in her bedroll—or at least warm, depending on how long she and Rukh decided to kiss. Instead, she was trekking through Hammer’s boulevards in the frigid cold near midnight. Her breath steamed before her. At least there wasn’t any snow or rain. Being cold was bad enough, but it was doubly worse when she was wet.
“Do you think they still have our scent?” Rukh asked.
Outside the city, the hissing Braids had dogged their footsteps, nipping at their heels. But once Jessira and Rukh had entered the ruined streets of Hammer, the snake-like Chims seemed to have lost the taste for the hunt.
“I think we left them behind,” Jessira said.
“Then let’s stop and find some shelter,” Rukh said with a shiver.
They cast about, studying the nearby buildings for a likely candidate.
“There,” Jessira pointed out a nearby building, one of the few that was close at hand and nearly intact. The structure was narrow and long, rising three stories and standing on a corner. It looked like it might have once housed a series of flats, or perhaps had been a single-family home.
Rukh nodded. “It should do.”
“Good. Let’s get inside. It’s freezing,” Jessira said, cold and irritable.
“I thought you Strongholders were tougher than us soft Purebloods,” Rukh said in bewilderment.
“Shut it.”
The building’s front door was in place, but many of the windows had long since been shattered with shards strewn across the floor. Inside, the furniture lay broken into kindling, and the walls were gutted, exposing broad swatches of laths. Plaster dust covered everything in a film of white, and to the left of the entrance, a narrow staircase, only wide enough for single file, led upstairs. The balusters were cracked and broken. A hall led deeper into the building, and the damage continued, but at least the walls were upright. A safe spot was found in the rear of the structure, likely a kitchen, and—for a wonder—the windows were intact. A door led to an alley, a handy exit if they needed to make a quick escape.
“Probably best to leave the packs on the horse,” Rukh said, leading the gelding into the small space in the back.
“We’ll have to go without a fire and wrap up in blankets,” Jessira commented.
Rukh smirked. “I think you just want to snuggle with me.”
Jessira snorted. “I’d snuggle with the horse if I didn’t think he’d step on me.”
“I smell better.”
“Barely.”
Nevertheless, once they were settled on the ground, their backs to a wall, she pressed close to Rukh, resting her head on his shoulder. Even through the worry of being hunted by Chims, the feel of his warmth next to her caused her to blush. Why couldn’t the fragging Chims have waited just an hour? She looked up, staring up into his eyes, wondering if he was thinking what she was thinking.
“I can think of warmer places,” he said.
“I can think of softer places,” she responded.
“Less dangerous.”
“We really shouldn’t,” she said, wanting nothing more than to do exactly what they were dancing around.
She traced the outline of his jaw, stroking his face as she stared into his dark eyes. Her heart beat quicker when he bent his head, kissing her. She breathed deep, her body rising, pressing closer to his. She was falling. It was the softness of his lips, the stubble of his beard, and the feel of his fingers gliding through her hair. The kiss deepened.
Rukh broke off. “We really shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, sounding breathless. “We have to stop.”
“I don’t want to stop,” Jessira growled in frustration, clutching his shirt. After a moment, she leaned her face away from his and rested her head against his shoulder, still pressed close. “You’re right,” she said, sighing in disappointment.
A wolf howled, sounding close. Another answered, even closer.
Rukh smiled. “It’s a good thing we stopped when we did.”
Jessira chuckled. “Could you imagine how embarrassing it would have been if they caught us while we were naked?”
Rukh laughed with her. “Let’s hope the wolves don’t find us at all. I’d hate to have to fight them and the Chims.”
“Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here and find some book?”
“That was before I knew there were wolves here or that we’d be hunted by Chims.”
“I’ll remind you of your idiocy when we get back to Stronghold.”
Just then a hooting cry came to them, high pitched and desperate, cut off all of a sudden.
Jessira stiffened. “What was that?”
Rukh rose to his feet, hand poised on his sword. Jessira stood as well, readying her bow. “It sounded like a Balant,” Rukh said.
More cries came, roars and hissing screams. The Chims. Someone was attacking them.
Li-Choke was quickly learning why Hammer was called the Bone Place. A day out from the city, a Balant had been killed by a herd of elk. The males had attacked the Balant without mercy, taking mortal blows from the
Tigons to bring down the elephant-sized Chimera. Later the same day, a tiger had mauled a trap of Braids. Several of the snakes had died, and others were so severely injured, they had to be put down. The closer Li-Choke and the Chimeras came to the city, the more frequent such attacks became. The worst was when a Braid was attacked by a swarming colony of rabbits. Rabbits! The little monsters had attacked a fully armed Chimera with nothing but teeth and a mindless savagery. The mingled screams from the Braid and the dying rabbits was one Li-Choke knew would haunt his dreams for years to come—assuming he lived that long.
The Bone Place might see an end to him and his command. He already hated this city. The only reason he still pressed forward was because Mother might know if he didn’t explore the city’s environs. Legends told how Mother could find Her children no matter where they were. Until She had discovered Li-Choke in the Hunters Flats, he had always assumed such stories to be an exaggeration, if not an outright fable. He now knew the truth. He had to complete his mission or risk the death of his western brothers.
Still, he had never actually intended on entering the city; but, unfortunately, the remaining Braids had caught the scent of something. Like brainless fools, they’d raced off, crying out their discovery and quickly outdistancing the other Chimeras. By the time Choke and the rest of his command had caught up with the snakes, they were all dead. A bear had awoken from its slumber and killed them.
At that point, Choke was ready to lead his Chimeras out of the Bone Place and take them somewhere safe; but a pack of wolves had ended his incipient plan. The four-legged bastards had chased them into Hammer itself. Once inside, two more Tigons, Chak-Trum and Chak-Vimm, had both quickly died. It had been a tiger, dying even as it took down the Tigons. Then the pack of wolves had caught up with them again.
The final Balant had given up its life so Choke and the two remaining Tigons could escape. He was just glad Chak-Soon was amongst the survivors. If the young ordinate died, it would be a tragedy. Choke had to find a place to hole up for the night. He and the others could escape this death trap of a city in the morning.
