In a Wolf's Eyes

by A. Katie Rose

  Growling low in my chest, I took a step toward her. My fist rose of its own accord, clenched, in front of her face.

  “Since I’m of such a lowly stature,” I gritted through my teeth, “I have no honor that might otherwise stop me from ripping out your throat and drinking your blood. Long ago, my father taught me never harm women or the innocent. I just might make an exception in your case.”

  Whatever I expected from her, ’twas not a smile. That predatory smile I might have seen on a jungle cat as it stalked a slow-moving wayward calf. She took a half-step back—

  In a blur my keen eyes failed to follow, Ly’Tana nocked an arrow from her quiver and drew the bowstring to her ear. The sheer speed of her movement took my breath away, as well as my anger. Never before had I seen anyone move so fast. I stared down the shaft of the arrow, its razor point inches from the bridge of my nose, to the rock-hard, cold green gaze behind the lethal bow.

  “Bring it on, big boy,” she breathed, her voice more deadly than any Arena opponent I ever faced. “Next time you raise your fist to me, you better kill me. Quick. For you can bet I will have your guts for garters.”

  Her sheer audacity, her courage, her fire, her wonderful, indomitable spirit drained away the last remnants of my anger. What a woman! The woman any man would be proud to have at his side, forever. She was a match for the gods themselves, I swear.

  I couldn’t help it. I began to laugh. I raised my hands in surrender, still laughing. Weren’t we a pair, I thought, on the run, in the dead of night, fighting each other as we might fight Brutal’s soldiers. What a sight we must be. I laughed harder.

  Ly’Tana lowered her bow, but didn’t return the arrow to her quiver. She watched me laugh, a puzzled frown on her beautiful, exotic features. No doubt, she thought my humor but a feint, something to take her guard down so I might slay her where she stood. Maybe I would throttle her with my big hands on her throat.

  “Relax, beautiful princess,” I stammered between bouts of mirth. My ribs began to ache. “I apologize for my crude behavior. My manners have taken a turn for the worst lately. I reckon I’ve been in Rygel’s company too long.”

  “Huh,” she snorted. At last the arrow left her bowstring and found company in her quiver with the rest. “You’ve been in Khalid too long. You started to sound just like Brutal.”

  Taking a deep breath, I bowed low, from the waist. “Forgive me, Your Highness. I am but a simple boor, too low of stature to know any better.”

  A small, unwilling smile tugged at her mouth. “Well, perhaps—”

  Temptation struck me, and hit me hard. Before she could finish her sentence, while her voice still distracted her brain, I seized her cheeks in both hands and kissed her swiftly on her lips. Ly’Tana tasted sweet, like a cake, yet I scented/tasted a strong female odor. A musk, a trace of lilac and leather, and a scent unlike any other that surely was Ly’Tana’s own. Under mine, her lips opened, grasped mine in a swift kiss that brought with it a heat I never before experienced.

  I stood back before the heat took a firmer hold and I followed my instincts. A sudden male impulse to not just keep kissing her, but begin exploring the rest of her beautiful body. Dropping my hands to my sides, I waited for the inevitable. For doubtless I would bear the full brunt of her fury, the mere slave taking advantage of the royal princess. Females always hated men kissing them without their permission. Everyone knew that.

  She laughed. Laughter cascaded out of her like water from a fountain. Her trust in me must have rebounded for she collapsed into my arms, gales of laughter shaking her from top to toe. Forced to hold her weight up, for without my grasp I know she would have collapsed in the gutter, holding her ribs and laughing.

  I began to feel insulted. She laughed at my inadequate male overtures, my adolescent kiss. I’ve never kissed a woman before, how was I to know how the deed was done? I sniffed. Rygel was right to hate them.

  “Oh, Wolf,” she wheezed at last, holding her ribs in one hand and my shoulder with the other. “Aren’t we a pair? First fighting like dogs then laughing ourselves silly.”

  I chuckled. “I reckon we are.”

  Her hands on her hips, she surveyed me from the top of my head down to my boots. A slow smile spread across her angular cheeks as she once more looked me in the eye. “You’ve never kissed anyone before, have you.”

  I sighed. “Am I that transparent?”

  “Only to me.”

  Confession was good for the soul, or so I heard once. “Nay.”

  “I suppose there’s a first time for everything.”

  “Um, well,” I began, hesitant to ask what was foremost in my mind.

  Ly’Tana’s smile widened into a wicked grin. “Aye, I liked it. You could do with some education, but…not bad. Not bad at all.”

  “Bitch.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Vixen.”

  “Oaf.”

  We laughed together for a moment, sharing something imminently profound. Sharing a what? Something I’ve never shared with anyone, ever before. Not even the kinship I now shared with Rygel compared to this. I could best describe it as a oneness, for no other word came close.

  Ly’Tana would have spoken further, but my hand over her mouth silenced her effectively. I could feel her eyes on me, but she obeyed my signal to stop and be silent. I sniffed the air, but smelled naught save her musky scent. I listened, but heard naught but night silence. Yet, the night was alive to something incredibly dangerous. I felt it along my skin, felt death creep like lice across every nerve ending. Evil eyes watched, hidden from sight and sound and scent.

  I hurried us to an alcove sheltering the doorway of a tall house built of brick, and stopped. Naught moved, that I could see, or hear or feel, but my instincts for trouble shrieked a horrible warning. Jangled thoughts of Ly’Tana’s exotic scent, her femininity and my lust vanished between one heartbeat and the next. Hidden within the shadows and darkness, we both searched the area with all our senses, finding little to account for my gut’s forewarning. The streets and alleys remained silent; nothing moved save the faint night breeze. Not even a rat nosed in the garbage that littered the city streets.

  That alone caused my hackles to rise.

  “What?” Ly’Tana barely breathed, her voice not reaching beyond the alcove. Like mine, her angular green eyes scanned the darkness, her head tilted slightly to catch the faintest sound. I bent toward her so my voice could go into her ear and no further.

  “We’re being hunted.”

  A warrior to the bone, she made no comment, no movement, but went as still and silent as the stone at our backs. I sensed no fear emanate from this beautiful princess. Only a tense readiness framed her aura. Her head lowered slowly in a single faint nod of acceptance.

  For several long moments, we waited and watched, shadows within shadows. Naught stirred but our eyes, roving ceaselessly to catch the faintest sign of our pursuers. Brutal’s soldiers? I discarded that thought immediately. Not only were they incapable of stealth, but also, had they seen and recognized us, they would have pounced immediately, shouting wildly and waving swords. Were they perhaps common thieves hoping to catch us unaware? I pondered that idea a moment longer before also dismissing it. Criminals would be too wary of my size and our swords to consider us tempting targets. None of them created the aura of tight alarm, caused the very night itself to hush with expectant fear and waiting.

  Her murmur in my ear, a sound softer than the breeze drifting through the streets, set my furious thinking to a sliding halt. “What do you think?”

  Before I could find the words to respond, my gut gave a sickening lurch. My instinct for trouble was not nearly entranced with the princess as I was, and gave me another, now sharper warning of trouble. I raised my head, listening, my nostrils flared to catch any scent, anything at all.

  Was that the hiss of a drawn sword? The eerie silence in the night stretched out. One would expect faint sounds of even the quietest night: bats winging through the air as the
y fed on insects, rodents rustling in the weeds and shrubbery, owls calling to one another as they hunted, kenneled dogs whimpering in their sleep. Yet no sound at all came to my ears save that one distant kiss of steel against leather. You stupid, stupid slave. You are too stupid to live; an oak stump is a tactical genius compared to you. You were provoking a fight when you should have been thinking. At last, I finally listened to what the silence was telling me.

  “Run,” I hissed in her ear. “Run like hell.”

  Taking her hand once more, I slipped out of the shadows of the alcove and put action to words. She followed with no hesitation or questions, matching me stride for stride. I pushed Ly’Tana ahead of me, my hands at her back urging her to run faster. She obeyed me, running as fast and as silently as possible, keeping to the darkest alleys and shadows, ducking low under wash lines, avoiding open lanes of cobblestone.

  I kept the fast pace for nearly an hour, grateful for Ly’Tana’s warrior strength and speed. Her earlier boast was no boast at all; she had enormous stamina and wind. My admiration for her grew. No wonder the Kel’Hallans held the top prize of being the best warriors on earth.

  My gut at last began to relax, the warning bells slackening off, letting me know we left trouble behind. For the moment anyway. I slowed our headlong pace to a steady trot, catching our breath, looking about us for a suitable house to climb.

  As I had mentally planned, we were now in a quarter of the city given over to wealthier merchants, an older neighborhood of stately two- and three-story residences. Built hundreds of years ago, during less turbulent times, these homes backed up against the thick city wall. These days, naught could be built within two blocks of the wall, to allow troops to man and defend it against attackers. Beyond this section of the wall lay deep forest. Lionel’s ancestors foolishly allowed the forest to grow close to the wall, and even more foolishly put up few sentries up to guard it. An invading army could creep through the trees, scale the wall and take Soudan before it even knew it was under attack.

  Ly’Tana saw their stupidity immediately. “Why have they let their guard down?” she asked. “The walls are guarded everywhere else…why not here?”

  “The bureaucrats who run Soudan feel the forest itself offers protection,” I replied, searching back through the darkness whence we had come. “And they look to the Federation’s own invincibility to keep any potential attackers away.”

  “But—” she began, but I silenced her with a quick look.

  “Their idiocy is our salvation. We need a tall house with a trellis, or ladders for repairs, something we can climb.”

  Still hurrying as fast and quietly as we could, we delved into the deep shadows between each home, searching for a way to the roof. Ly’Tana found it after a few houses, and pulled on my hand to get me to follow her. While not what I was expecting, the house she chose turned out infinitely better.

  Built of jagged, decorative stone, the house had its own miniature wall constructed around the garden. It was a three-story affair, with the wall high enough to reach a small balcony on the second floor. A short distance up from there, the roof of the second floor leveled out flat, the third floor built atop it, smaller than the rest of the house. Against the wall of the third story grew a beautiful thick trellis reaching the roof. A burglar hoping to rob the wealthy merchant could not have hoped for a better way into the home. Architecturally, it was a gorgeous home. From the standpoint of protection, it was a dismal failure.

  From the wall, we easily reached the small balcony outside what might have been a sitting room for the merchant to entertain guests. I prayed for no housedogs to begin barking as we left the balcony, and climbed the uneven rock side of the house. As though in answer to my prayer, no sound came from within: no barking, no guards shouting an alarm, no suddenly awakened sleepers. The stones left prominent hand and footholds, nothing easier for two strong agile climbers. We all but scampered up the side of the house, two shadows among many.

  From the second-story roof, we stepped softly on the slate shingles, not wanting heavy tread to wake the sleepers below. I silently urged Ly’Tana up the trellis before me, keeping watch as she climbed. Nothing stirred in the streets or among the stately homes below us. Only the light night breeze whispered, caressed, promising safety. Yet the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end.

  The trellis almost did not hold my weight. The thick branches groaned and yielded under my feet, threatening to give way. Above me, Ly’Tana lay flat on the roof, watching the street below as I had done.

  “Hurry up,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong.”

  At last, she felt it too. I heaved upward, scrambling, catching the edge of the roof just as the trellis collapsed, crunching to the roof below. It made a clatter of wood and falling branches, horribly loud in the silent darkness. I hauled my dead weight upward using the strength of my arms, and rolled across the roof. Peering down, I lay still, listening, searching the night for danger. Despite the rattle of the trellis falling, nothing stirred in the house below. Nay. The danger lay in the streets and I had no doubt the broken trellis told the unseen hunters exactly where we were.

  “What’s out there?”

  Ly’Tana’s soft whisper was but a breath in my ear. This time her nearness gave me no thrill, no stirring of excitement. Our danger was too close. It was, perhaps, just beyond the house across the cobbled street, watching us.

  I leaned close to her ear. “Shekinah Tongu.”

  Wise as well as intelligent, she cast me a swift quizzical glance rather than risk her voice overheard by enemies. Despite my instincts to hurry, to get out of there without explanation, I reconsidered. If Ly’Tana knew what chased us, she could better help me to plan our escape. Her skills and experience as a warrior gave us an edge we might not have had, had she been but an ordinary girl. I bent close to her ear.

  “They are a group of highly secretive and highly paid assassins,” I said in a hushed whisper. “They are killers, bred and trained to kill, but more than that they are hunters.”

  Again, she looked the question, and I did my best to explain.

  “They are paid to hunt their quarry. With enough money, you can buy the services of the Tongu. To hunt down and kill the man who stole from you. Or the man who cheated you at gambling. Or your rival for the council seat. Or to hunt down and recapture a runaway princess.”

  Ly’Tana’s eyes widened with sudden understanding. “Brutal.”

  “Who else? He would not be satisfied with his troops searching high and low for you. He would turn to those who hunt people for their living. The best hunters money can buy.”

  “And you as well,” she added. “You cost him greatly, you know. He lost a great deal of face when you hurt him as you did and escaped.”

  “I know,” I said grimly. “And he must know by now we have joined forces. We also must assume he knows about Rygel. I’m betting he gave orders we are to be taken alive.”

  “But how can they follow us so closely? It’s too dark to see us, and we’ve been too quiet. How can they know where we went?”

  “Hounds.”

  “We would have heard hounds baying.”

  “Not these hounds. The Tongu cut their throats as pups, cutting away their voices. Now they run as silent as their masters.”

  For answer, Ly’Tana hissed between her teeth.

  “Now, we need to get across the wall,” I said. “They will know we went over, but they will not risk being seen and heard by following us over this house. They’ll find a gate, then pick up our trail.”

  I scooted backward, toward the backside of the house, keeping my head down. Ly’Tana followed.

  “Can we mask our scent?”

  “Not a chance.”

  I looked down from the roof, seeing the city wall, a shadow slightly less dark in the faint starlight. It lay about a rod and a half from the rear of the house and a rod down. It was a jump of considerable length. I knew I could do it, but looked askance at Ly’Tana. She read my expressi
on and shrugged philosophically.

  “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Want to live forever?”

  Before I could say anything, she rose and ran back toward the front of the house, heedless of any watching Tongu. Turning, she sprinted back, past me, and launched herself into the air. Like a graceful gazelle, Ly’Tana sprang up and out, arms pinwheeling for balance. For an instant, I thought she would not make it, did not have the speed or momentum to carry her to the wall. She did. Upon hitting feet first, she controlled her fall with a graceful roll, coming to rest at the far edge of the city wall. Rising, Ly’Tana beckoned to me with a wave of her arm.

  Grinning, I followed her example. I ran across the roof to gain some speed, then leaped. Upward and outward, I let my forward drive carry me across the space between roof and wall. While the top of the wall was wide enough for five men to walk abreast, it was not wide enough for me. Like Ly’Tana, I curled my body to roll after impact. Unlike Ly’Tana, I continued to roll to the edge of the stones.

  Frantically, I tried to grasp anything to stop myself careening over the edge.

  I failed. Caught in its own strong momentum, my body slid over the top of the wall as if on slick ice. I uncurled from the rolled position in the hopes of stopping my slide, but only managed to slow it down. I caught a glimpse of Ly’Tana’s horrified face as I grabbed at the edge of the wall, my body dangling over the side. I finally stopped, the lower half of my body dangling embarrassingly into space.

  Hanging half on and half off the high wall, I looked up at Ly’Tana as she hurried over to me.

  “Overkill, wouldn’t you say?” I murmured.

  Royalty never meant humorless and stoic. I noticed Ly’Tana had a very highly developed sense of humor. Struggling with laughter, Ly’Tana choked and snorted, reaching down a hand to me.

  “Here let me help you up.”

  I declined with a sheepish grin. “Nay, I reckon I’m halfway down already.”

  I let go of the stones, hoping for a softer landing than the city wall turned out to be. It was, but not by much. I landed with a crunch in shrubbery, shattering branches and twigs as I landed on my backside with enough force to jar the teeth in my head. Unharmed other than scratches from the prickly shrubs, I got to my feet and looked up. My shoulder did not take to the fall very well, however, and began to ache in earnest. I rubbed at it absently as I tried to see Ly’Tana in the darkness above.