by Carol Buhler
Jol, seated on the other side of the man, casually asked why he’d been fired.
“Refused to go with ‘em for an overnight down south. Didn’t want to miss the big fight.”
After the evening we’d just had, we knew all about the “big fight.” Two humans were scheduled, three nights earlier, to beat each other until one or the other couldn’t stand. While the robber gang was torching my home. Evidently, humans loved to watch such a contest and bet money on the winner and thus wouldn’t notice the four air-cars leaving. Barbarous.
“And your boss fired you?” Jol asked, his voice slurred but indignant. I worried about how good he was at this.
Kardon mumbled over his mug. “That’s just wrong.” Foal, they’re all good.
“Damn right that’s wrong!” The fellow turned to stare at Kardon.
Josdon wobbled on the stool he’d perched on, drawing the drunk’s eyes. “Did you go other times? Seems to me if you were a good employee, shouldna been fired for the once!”
“Nah!” The drunk sloshed his beer and I leaned back to avoid getting doused. “I never went before. They never needed me, they said. But this time, they wanted more fellows than usual.”
Suddenly, the bar went deathly quiet. Turning with everyone else at the table, I saw a medium-sized, middle-aged man standing just inside the door. Surrounding him, four burly fellows peered through the smoke as if searching for someone.
Our drunk slid slowly down to crouch under the table. “’s the Boss Man.”
I exchanged a sharp glance with Jol, then shot the other boys a warning look, enforced by a command delivered via Aarnyon to do nothing to draw attention. The man in the doorway was a vastly aged Paul. And the bullies with him were all Pete Mason’s sons. I was certain we’d found our robber band.
We, and the drunk under the table, were not spotted. I learned later that Xendon had instantly cast an illusion that disguised all of us, even more so than we already were, and hid the drunk completely. He explained that he’d thought Paul and his men had most likely heard of a group of five making their way through the bars asking noisy questions. “Or,” he continued, “they might have been after our friend here who was talking too much.”
We’d brought the drunk away with us, intending to pump him for information about the warehouse, its entrances, its layout, and its people. Jol, ahead of me in thinking, bought a bottle of liquor, and as we asked our questions, he poured the man more drinks. “Have to be sure he remembers nothing of us,” my son said. How’d he become so devious?
“Relax, Dad. We got this,” Kardon said. And they did. I watched in amazement as my sons and Xendon pulled every tiny bit of information out of our smelly companion and then left him sleeping in a gutter far from the bar we’d found him in.
Back with the others, we decided surprise was our best ally and planned accordingly. With no way to guarantee all of the gang would be in the warehouse at any one time, we resolved to attack that very night and take out as many as we could. Xagdon said if we got lucky and managed to kill Paul and the Mason boys, we might behead the monster and it would shrivel and die.
I felt no remorse. After what they’d done, I was ready to kill. Even Aarnyon refrained from trying to stop me.
“We’re not into revenge,” he said. The other reeth nodded agreement. “But these humans need a lesson. They need to stop marauding on their own people, and especially on us.” The view of his great-grandson wafted through my mind.
**
I’d been so busy with our arrangements, I’d forgotten all about sending Nandon to check on Hindon and his family down by Kavv. His report shocked me—shocked us all.
“Some of the soldiers from Kavv captured Hindon’s reeth-mate with a huge net, tied him up and kept him hidden in a cave—for two weeks!” The furious voice was Nandon’s relayed by his mind-mate. “The reeth’s been frantic, his mind in such turmoil that he couldn’t receive our calls. Hindon was in the same state when we located him and his family—hiding in a remote portion of their property.”
He paused and I felt a wave of contrition. “I’m sorry, Joedon. I didn’t even miss him from the meeting in Center. I should have known something was wrong before you contacted me.”
What could I say? I hadn’t noticed Hindon’s absence, either. I glanced at Sardon, at Xagdon. They shrugged a negative.
“Where are they now?” I asked.
“The reeth got away by pawing and kicking down a solid wood doorway when his keepers were gone. He and Hindon, and the rest of them, are coming back with us to my place in Center. His house is deserted, for now.”
“Just as well, with Kavv making war on Bonn.”
“Right. I sent word to my fym to call roll. Make sure no one else is missing.”
“Thanks. We’ll be back there in a few days.”
“Good luck.”
Sardon rubbed his forehead and I wondered if it ached as much as mine did. “If word of that capture spreads through the humans,” he said, “we’ll have reeth being netted constantly.”
“We’ll spread the word to be more vigilant,” Aarnyon said directly to him. “Won’t happen again. Besides, Hindon’s reeth-mate is very old. I think over two hundred.”
“You’re right, Aarnyon.” Sardon relaxed his tense shoulders and smiled slightly. “I’d forgotten that pair’s age.”
~~
It was full dark and we knew at least a hundred people were inside the warehouse—planning more chaos. Xagdon’s sons had watched during the day and recorded the comings and goings. Paul was there, but only two of the Mason brothers had entered the building while they watched.
We positioned our largest reeth at each of the four human-sized entry doors and four more at the huge rollup door that allowed the air-cars to enter and exit. Jol and Xendon dropped silently onto the two guards stationed on the roof, knocking each out with one blow. Holding one of the repeating guns, Xendon rapidly taught Jol how to use it. I didn’t want one. I’m too old to learn such a thing. I’ll stick with speed, surprise, and moves I’ve used all my life.
I’d forbidden Kardon and Josdon to try the guns, much to their muttered disgust. I’d also staged them to enter only after they got the all clear from Aarnyon. They’ve had enough adventure. I promised Korola not to get them killed—or me either.
I tried the same tactic on Joela. She ignored me, saying she’d stick close to her hom’s side. I knew she could fight; she’d been a terror among the young ones growing up, so I sighed and left them to each other’s care.
Aarnyon and I huddled as close as we could to our reeth leader, mind-mate to one of Sardon’s grandsons, who was selected to kick in the human door before us. Others were lined up behind. Our plan was to squeeze through the door as quickly and efficiently as we could and attack whomever we encountered. Since our information said the company only hired fighting men, we anticipated no mercy and planned on offering none in return.
Aarnyon gathered the check-in messages—everyone was in place. “Go,” I said softly to the reeth before us. He lashed out with both hind feet at the door; it splintered and crumpled. He lunged aside and I rushed in with Aarnyon on my heels. His wings scraped painfully but he made it. We faced a narrow hallway with doors on both sides.
The crashing noise brought out two men, guns in hand, dressed only in underwear. I plowed into them with my head lowered, then felled one with a chop to his throat. Aarnyon trampled the other and we rushed into a big, open room with humans everywhere. I flung myself onto Aarnyon and he launched toward the high ceiling as the second pair of don-reeth plunged into sight behind me. We’d surprised them, alright. No one had arms ready, but they were game and rushed toward us, clawing at holsters. Frantically, I searched faces for Paul, my claimed target. I hoped we wouldn’t find Jackson involved in this mess; specifically, I didn’t want Jol to come face to face with his old friend.
Taggert had been third through the big door and I saw Jol swing aboard, the repeating gun nestled in the crook of
his right elbow. We’d discussed the gun and had agreed he wouldn’t use it unless absolutely necessary.
The melee surged beneath us. So far, I’d heard no gunshots. I didn’t see Paul but one of the Mason boys stood, back planted solidly against a far door as if in guard position. We aimed toward him. He had a hand gun, fired into the combatants, but didn’t see us coming behind the invisibility illusion. Aarnyon crushed his head with one blow of a forefoot. I slid off. He whirled and blasted the flimsy door with both hind feet.
Paul was just rising from behind a broad desk, gun in hand, when I leapt toward him and smashed him back against the wall behind him. He dropped the gun but rallied to push me away and attempt to stand. He got no farther than his knees when Aarnyon crashed through the desk and pinned him to the floor.
“This is the last time for you, Paul,” I snarled, gripping him by his collar so that his own shirt choked him. Aarnyon shifted away and I dragged Paul to the doorway to watch his hired men falling from my people’s onslaught.
It was over in minutes. Human bodies lay everywhere. Don rose stiffly from the floor; reeth wandered, searching for anyone still alive and pointing them out to their mind-mates. I shook Paul until he sobbed to be released.
“I’m giving you the same mercy you showed those who died at my home.”
“You lie,” he rasped. “It was empty. We checked.”
“Thank you for confirming your guilt.” I shook him some more out of pure anger, then pulled his hands behind him to bind them with the rope we’d brought. I gazed over the big room, which took up most of the warehouse, and watched as others were bound similarly. We intended to hold court—where, we hadn’t decided—try and convict them of their actions, then put them to death in an orderly way. How, we hadn’t decided, either.
Xendon’s reeth-mate gave us warning. “More men are coming! Two of the Masons are in the lead.”
We hauled our prisoners into what was left of Paul’s office, then ranged ourselves to handle the coming attack. These men would have their guns out and ready. They would not be surprised. None of my people that I’d seen so far had suffered any major injury, but that could change in the next few minutes.
I breathed in deeply, centered myself, and waited.
Someone began firing from the roof. Sentries at the door reported the leaders of the oncoming crowd falling, the rest scattering, taking shelter to fire back. “Who’s on the roof?”
“Xagdon and his boys,” Aarnyon answered. “Those humans are going to have to get through heavy fire to take us.”
“Where’d they find the guns?”
“Xagdon found a storeroom while the rest were fighting. As soon as the battle waned, he armed the boys and headed to the roof. Jol’s with them.”
I closed my eyes, sick at heart. I hadn’t wanted my son to get the taste of rapid death through the use of those guns. Too late to stop him now. Then, I looked frantically around for Kardon and Josdon.
“They’re by the wall to your right,” Aarnyon said. “Their reeth-mates kept them mostly out of the fight. And neither followed Jol, although Xagdon offered them guns.”
I made my way toward them and wrapped them in a hug, thanking them for following my instructions.
“Of course, Dad,” Josdon mumbled into my shoulder.
**
The guns on the roof felled both Mason boys and their backers fled. We’d killed the other two Masons inside. And I had Paul as a prisoner along with ten others. We’d suffered bangs and bruises, one broken shoulder, and one broken foot. We’ll not be this lucky again.
Sirens warned of the approach of local police. They left their screaming cars and advanced cautiously on the building, finding us standing or seated around the open room, our prisoners in a huddle to one side, and piled bodies along the wall. A big man walked cautiously toward me—evidently the Chief of Police. I met him in the middle of the room.
“What’s happened here?”
I told him.
He sent for the Mayor and I repeated what had been going on under their noses. They swore they’d known nothing about it. I pretended to believe. They hauled our prisoners to their jail and I promised, threatened, to be back in two weeks for the trial.
“They’d better be here when I return.”
Aarnyon glared at the Mayor, his eyes swirling a fearsome red. “When we return,” he said into the Mayor’s mind. The man flinched and paled.
Sending the Police Chief a panicked look, he croaked, “They will be. We promise.”
21. Continuing Conflict
We returned to Center slowly, nursing sore muscles unused to such strenuous exercise. Korola and her troupe kept us fed and hydrated during the three-day journey. Once there, I slept a solid eighteen hours. Others confessed to the same when we finally gathered in the Speakers’ Hall to discuss our next move.
First to speak, Vuddon reported that the human death toll had been tremendous in Bonn before Kavv finally withdrew their troops. He had promised to personally supervise boundary negotiations between the two leaders to guarantee no more bloodshed. He also said every affected don family in the region had helped bury dead and clean away the rubble left behind and would be alert to insure peace, at least for several months. They were helping rebuild the docks, as well.
Everyone already knew what had happened in the Lorner warehouse—reeth had spread the views before I thought to curtail them. My own people looked at me, and Sardon, and Xagdon, with a shadow of fear. When Aarnyon replayed what he’d seen, I shuddered myself at the violence we’d been capable of.
He soothed me. “Had to be done. It’s not like we had a choice.”
And Korola loved me out of my guilt. I’d do anything to keep her safe.
The frightened stares gradually went away—or at least I stopped noticing them.
During the many dismal days of arguments about our future, one bright incident occurred. Jol walked into the huge dining room where the entire family was preparing to sit down for evening meal, tightly holding the hand of a golden-haired fem I’d never seen before.
“Mother, Father, Family. This is Emmadon, my fiancé. Please welcome her to our table.”
Korola gave a funny sort of squeal of happiness and rushed to enfold our son and prospective daughter-in-law in a huge hug. I felt stunned, having had no inkling of a romance in the making. In fact, Korola and I had not long before bemoaned the thought that Jol couldn’t seem to find the one to give his heart to. Yet, there she stood, beaming at Korola for all she was worth.
Aarnyon nudged me from wherever he was outside and I strode forward to meet the young fem. Finally, Korola will have the grandchild she’s hungered for.
**
Xagdon argued for complete annihilation of the humans. Some sided with him, but most confessed a mild liking of the humans on their lands and an unwillingness to blatantly murder the innocent because of the few. Not to mention, they’d expanded so I didn’t think we could, in reality, accomplish such a goal. In the end, we decided to do nothing, hoping things would settle now that the robber band had been stopped.
The trial in Lorner went smoothly. The ten captives agreed to testify against their employer in exchange for labor sentences in the fields, rather than being put to death. The remaining Mason families were separated and relocated again, each sent to a different part of the continent. Paul stood to face another barbaric human custom, a firing squad. At least we’ll never have to worry about him again. Aarnyon and I had forced ourselves to watch him die; Jol was on his honeymoon with Taggart and Emmadon’s reeth-mate, a brilliant palomino that suited the fem’s coloring and Taggart’s heart perfectly.
The boundary was settled between Bonn and Kavv, but Vuddon reported rumblings of dissent from Fell about their situation alongside, and in places between, the other two. To my relief, he used his newly polished negotiation skills to hammer a firm boundary for Fell before the year ended.
The next year brought more joy for Korola and me to help bury the heartache of
our decision not to rebuild the Joe compound on the plains. Each of our other children, in rapid succession, introduced a new love and we celebrated four separate weddings, and the birth of our first grandson, Joeledon. While Jol and Emma lived with us in the mansion, affording Korola ample time with the new baby, Kora chose to live with her hom’s family out near Zronton. We’d assured her there was room with us, even as we had to add on to the already huge mansion.
Uncle Johndon built his own estate further north on the Center bluff, leaving room for Kardon and Josdon to bring their brides to live with us. And our baby, Jesidon, now thirty-one-years old, left to reside with her hom’s family in Bonn. During her wedding, I mumbled, over and over, the fact that because of Vuddon, Bonn was a perfectly safe place for my baby to live.
By the end of that year, I’d resigned myself to thinking of areas on the continent by their human names, not the don family names of the various family compounds still in existence out there. It was a subtle change that I barely registered until a few years later when I finally realized I’d already allocated the plains to the humans.
**
In early Mars of 856, Emmadon’s grandfather and father asked for a formal meeting with me. I sent the invitation for them to come, and then stressed over their intent. Aarnyon could wheedle no inkling from Elsdon’s mind-mate.
As far as I knew, Emma and Jol were supremely happy with the birth of their second child, a beautiful fem that looked exactly like her mother and who had her father besotted out of his mind—along with Korola.
The two arrived in the courtyard just as I was returning young Joele to his mother after giving him a ride on Aarnyon. The child was a natural and I wondered, a bit, over his failure to call a mind-mate. Nothing we could influence in any way, but Joe family members usually called their reeth before the age of three.
