Catch a Wolf

by A. Katie Rose

  Tenzin cleared his throat. “We thought they’d come out long before the fumes overcame them.”

  “Oh, I’m certain they would have,” Brutal snapped, his calm breaking for the first time. “They’d come out shooting. In case you’re unaware of the Kel’Hallan skills with the bow, they’re adept archers. Those few men and the bitch would slaughter your idiots without breaking a sweat.”

  “Nice to know he respects you,” Rygel commented.

  “Shut up.”

  “They killed six of your men without your assassins realizing they were being shot at.”

  “Our hounds—” Tenzin began.

  “Spare me,” Brutal grated.

  Tenzin wisely shut his mouth as Brutal paced again, his strides long and furious. I half-expected Brutal to order his archers to shoot Tenzin, as his temper obviously filled to overflowing. Brutal wasn’t known for his patience and gentility. Only his anger and lust for blood exceeded his reputation for ruthlessness. I half-though his self-control teetered on the edge, close to commanding his men to fire.

  He finally calmed himself. Ceasing his angry pace, he hesitated, turning half-way toward his victim. He rubbed his damp brow with his fingers, glanced at the sweat left on the tips and drew a deep breath. He pursed his lips and offered Tenzin a small half-smile, as though sympathetic toward Tenzin’s ordeal.

  “The storm?” Brutal asked gently. “Why would you plan an attack with such a storm right on top of you?”

  “Your Majesty,” Tenzin replied quickly. “We have weathered storms before. We did, however, underestimate its fury. I sincerely apologize for that. Your Majesty.”

  “You seriously underestimated my fury, my dear Tenzin,” Brutal said, his tone frosty. “My fury.”

  “We felt it was the only way to ensure we captured them alive,” Tenzin said, hoping to divert Brutal’s anger. “If not for the storm, we would’ve had them. They’d have given the bastard up.”

  “Ah, I see.” Brutal nodded sagely, pacing on, back and forth. “I can see where you would think that, I most certainly do. On the other hand, you seem to have forgotten the fierce loyalty they have for one another. After all, loyalty is not one of your strong suits. Oh, you’re dedicated, in your own way, my dear Tenzin, but we all have our faults. Had you understood such fidelity, and believe you me, that kind of fanatical devotion to one another makes me sick at my stomach, you’d have planned accordingly.”

  Brutal waved his hand, negligent. “Unless directed toward me, I despise such nobility, such avid commitment to a cause, until I fear I’ll puke. I’m sure it does the same for you.”

  Brutal eyed Tenzin with the same predatory gaze Bar often achieved while hunting. “Had you understood this savage fidelity Rygel has for Wolf, and vice versa, you might have planned just a wee bit better. Don’t you think, Tenzin?”

  “Of course, Your Majesty.”

  Tenzin must have thought it prudent to bow, to be seen offering Brutal the subservience he needed, for he did so. He offered Brutal a very low, slow, bow. “The error is mine, Your Majesty.”

  “Why, it most certainly is.” Brutal beamed. “And I know how you’ll not fail me again, because I know how dedicated, so very committed, you are to me.”

  “I am, Your Majesty.”

  “Since we’re on this subject,” Brutal went on, walking again, his tone lowered. “And I must say I really hate this part. You know, this part of our conversation where I have to tell you what will happen should you fail me again? But, alas, I also have my shortcomings, I simply must say it all, have everything out in the open. I’ll appoint a new Commander General to preside over your funeral.”

  Tenzin’s eyes glowed fierce and blue. “You cannot control, or rule, the Shekinah Tongu,” he grated.

  Brutal paused in his pacing, his expression one of benign surprise. “But of course I can. You see, I’m rich. Disgustingly rich, as it happens. I can put a bounty on you that even your own assassins can’t resist. The Tongu who brings me your head will be the new Commander General.”

  Brutal smiled and waved his arms, excited. “And this is the best part, listen Tenzin, this is really, really good. If your people prove to be as ridiculously loyal to you as the Kel’Hallans are to that obnoxious Wolf, I’ll set a thousand, two thousand, troops against your temple.”

  Brutal smiled broadly and waggled his finger under Tenzin’s nose. “Your secret temple isn’t so secret, Tenzin.”

  “Your Majesty has the upper hand, it seems,” Tenzin said slowly.

  “Of course I do, I always do. Do I have your complete and utter loyalty now, Tenzin?”

  “You do, Your Majesty.” Tenzin bowed low again, fluidly.

  “Oh, don’t pout, Tenzin,” Brutal said, adjusting the crown on his head. “You can still have Rygel, as I first promised. Your silly blood oath will be fulfilled. Once I have my bride back and the pair of Connachti siblings in my hands, that is. Me first.”

  At this, Ja’Teel stepped forward from where he had stood throughout Tenzin’s ordeal, his black cloak flapping in the light breeze. I noticed he hadn’t sweated a bit, despite the intense heat and hot humid air rising from the nasty floodwaters.

  “Your Majesty,” he said, striding forward and bowing low.

  “Oh, dear,” Brutal said, raising his hands, palms up. He rolled his eyes heavenward. “I am so forgetful. I also promised my new liege wizard could have Rygel. What have I done?”

  “You did promise me I could have Rygel,” Ja’Teel grated through clenched teeth. “I have plans for my not-so royal cousin.”

  Brutal eyed him sideways. “I hope that kinship you have to the Khassart throne protects you if it comes to a showdown between you and Rygel. You have already underestimated him. Can it be he is more powerful than you?”

  “Of course I am,” Rygel snapped, clicking his beak.

  “Hush,” I said. “Be still.”

  “He is not,” Ja’Teel growled. Remembering to who he spoke, Ja’Teel bowed again and modulated his tone. “I have more royal blood than he has and I am closer to the throne, Your Majesty. One day, I may be King of Khassart.”

  “That day will never come,” Rygel snarled.

  Ja’Teel glanced around him, his angry expression wiped away by his baffled hazel eyes. The harelip of his thick mouth tilted up in confusion. He rubbed the back of his neck, as though feeling eyes watching him.

  Rygel’s eyes.

  “Shut up,” I hissed at Rygel. “He can feel your anger.”

  “Somehow I doubt your purple blood will protect you from him,” Brutal said slowly, eyeing Ja’Teel as he fidgeted and glanced around. “But, fortunately, I have a solution to this unfortunate dilemma.”

  “Your Majesty?” Ja’Teel ceased his agitation and straightened his spine.

  “Of course, I have such an incredible wisdom to call upon,” Brutal said, his happiness expressed in the airy waves of his hands. “You both can have Rygel.”

  Tenzin and Ja’Teel eyed one another with open hostility. Like cats ordered to split the mouse one caught and the other sought to steal.

  “I’m so very certain you two can come to an accord,” Brutal exclaimed, each hand on the shoulders of the pair. “You can both torture Rygel and share in his ultimate demise. I’m sure there is plenty of Rygel’s—er—sort of purple blood to go around.”

  Brutal tittered, his fingers over his mouth. “I do so hope you’ll allow me to observe. I simply love to watch experts at their labors.”

  “Of course, Your Majesty,” both intoned with equal bows.

  “I’m so glad that’s all settled.” Brutal laughed, clapping his hands. “Now, Tenzin.”

  The sound of his name sharpened the Tongu Commander’s complete attention on Brutal’s face.

  “I know I hate a squealer, ever so nasty. I’m sure you do, too.”

  Brutal’s hand found the tall Tenzin’s shoulder to grip while maintaining distance from the deadly black panther that even yet sat silent and watchful at Tenzin’s si
de. Shirel eyed Brutal as though wondering what kind of meal he’d make, her tail twitching slightly at the tip.

  Brutal’s voice lowered into a tone of confidentiality, as though he imparted a great secret. “If you want to, you know—”

  He jerked his head toward the lone Tongu hunter standing, drenched in his own perspiration, amidst the Khalidian and Synn’jhani soldiers.

  “—send him to his maker, I promise you I understand.”

  He leaned forward, hiding his lips from the Tongu hunter, his face close to Tenzin’s ear.

  “He did betray you, after all,” Brutal commented with a swift glance over his shoulder. “I, personally, I despise snitches. They are loyal to no one but themselves.”

  “Your Majesty. I do agree.”

  Tenzin’s cold, pale blue eyes rested on his man. How the soldiers knew, I never will. They scattered like chaff in a high wind, both regular troops and white and gold Sins fled the immediate area. Murmurs rose like a faint vibration as Brutal’s men discussed in low tones the future of the nasty little man in tattoos and brown homespun.

  At this guards’ rapid desertion, the lone Tongu’s eyes widened. He knew. He knew very well indeed.

  “Run,” Tenzin said softly. “Who knows? You might even make it.”

  The man bolted.

  Toward the snag Rygel and I hid in, high above, the Tongu assassin ran hard, his legs pumping furiously. His throat gasped for every breath, his oily hair bouncing on his narrow shoulders. He ran for his life, as I had run for mine.

  Tit for tat, I mused. How often does the hunter become the hunted?

  “Not often enough,” Rygel commented, ruffling his wings.

  Tenzin half-whistled, half-hissed, a sharp, ‘shssst, shssst’ sound from between his teeth.

  Shirel launched herself after the fleeing Tongu.

  Not going to make it, I thought, as the Tongu fled toward the massive snag we sat upon. No doubt he hoped he may climb the sturdy branches to safety. I suspected he forgot what chased him. Cats can climb, dimwit.

  The agile black panther caught him a mere rod from the snag.

  I bent my head toward my breast, angling my sight to see better, to witness what occurred right below me.

  Like his pals in the forest, the Tongu issued a high-pitched, breathy scream through his mutilated throat just as Shirel leaped upon his back. Similar to Bar with his prey, her four paws gripped with deadly sharp claws, ripping with careless ease through clothing, skin, muscle and tendon. Blood splashed her jet fur from her short muzzle to her shoulders, her weight taking him down on his belly in the loamy soil. She rode him in his descent, driving his face into the dirt, her white fangs slashing his skull.

  He tried to cover his neck, to protect it, but Shirel savagely scratched and clawed her way to his vulnerable throat. Still screaming, the Tongu fought her, his bleeding hands reaching for his dagger. That was his last mistake. In doing so, he opened the way for Shirel to close her fangs into the side of his neck.

  Ripping into his flesh, Shirel cut loose his carotid. Still thrashing under her, the Tongu’s blood jetted out his mortal wounds, splashing the panther and drenching the damp earth with his blood. He died, his eyes wide and staring at nothing, his body slashed and cut as though someone had spent hours on him with a dirk.

  The odor of fresh blood, piss and the disgusting odor of a dying man fouling his breeches assaulted my nose. I turned my beak away, hiding my nostrils under my wing.

  “Well, now,” Brutal drawled. “I’ve got to get me one of those.”

  Shirel didn’t worry her victim. Once he stopped moving, she released his corpse and daintily stepped aside.

  Tenzin ‘shssst’ again.

  She trotted to him, bloody and calm. Once more at heel, Shirel sat down and began to clean the blood from her paws and face. Her tongue swiped her right paw, only to raise it and comb her tiny round ears. Shirel calmly, as fastidious as any other feline, groomed Tongu blood off her inky coat.

  “On to other matters,” Brutal said, as though watching a man ripped apart by a big cat was so common as not to be noticed. “Are we clear on your duties, Tenzin?”

  “Crystal, Your Majesty,” Tenzin replied.

  “Ah, very good. You will bring those I require to me, alive and unharmed. That means—” Brutal wagged his forefinger under Tenzin’s nose. “—you are not to touch them. Understood?”

  Tenzin’s eyes widened slightly. “But, Your Majesty, you gave us your blessing to do with them as we wish, so long as they are alive.”

  “I’m rescinding my blessing,” Brutal snapped, once more close to fury. “I want to be the first to take that Kel’Hallan bitch. I want her very aware of me when I chain her to my bed and take her skinny whore’s body over and over.”

  My neck feathers rose on their own accord, I swear. Like Bar’s when irritated, my own anger at what I just heard Brutal plan for my fate ruffled me. I tried to lay them flat, but they ignored me. At the moment, I had zero control over my feathers.

  “As for the idiot slave girl,” Brutal went on, pointing his finger at Tenzin in a way that made the man finally begin to sweat. “I want her unspoiled and intact. She will be my bride and give me heirs. I will not tolerate her bearing the vile offspring of a Tongu assassin.”

  Rygel’s rage grew. Like a dark shadow, his fury rose and eclipsed both our minds. It wasn’t the threats to his own safety that triggered his naked fury. ’Twas the thought of Brutal having his way with his beloved Arianne that caused him to lose his fabled self-control.

  “Rygel,” I said urgently. “Calm down. He’ll hear you.”

  “I don’t care,” Rygel muttered thickly, his mental voice dark with restrained ferocity.

  Ja’Teel once more glanced around uneasily, scanning the bright blue sky as though searching for the source of—what? Clearly, he felt something. He knew something was wrong. His face clouded with unease as he felt the waves of enmity pouring from Rygel through some arcane link both magicians had access to. As though a dead animal lay upstream from the pool he drank from. He tasted the foul.

  Brutal clapped Ja’Teel on the shoulder in a comradely gesture, at once distracting him. “I do apologize, my friend,” he said sincerely. “I’ll make it up to you. I know there just isn’t enough of the bastard to go around to satisfy everyone.”

  Ja’Teel dropped his head in a bow. “And I will be grateful for whatever Your Majesty offers me.”

  “Of course you will,” Brutal said with a smile. “Since I’m the King and you’re my—um, servant. But no matter. You can have the Kel’Hallan whore when I am done with her.”

  Damn those feathers, there they go again.

  “And if you really please me,” Brutal said happily, his arm around Ja’Teel’s neck in a brotherly fashion, guiding him back toward the table. “After my wife brings me a few heirs, you can have some of her, too. Am I not generous?”

  Tenzin stood, alone and apparently forgotten as Brutal turned his back on him and walked away, confiding with Ja’Teel. His face clouded for a moment in such rage that I wondered how he could control himself. Shirel ceased her bath and glanced up at him, as though sensing something amiss.

  In a move I could not help but admire, Tenzin’s face smoothed over into a bland, inquiring expression as he waited for his royal dismissal.

  Rygel, on the other wing, was an entirely different matter. When Brutal slung an affectionate arm over Ja’Teel’s neck and offered him Arianne, the dark mental shadow over his mind turned black. Tenzin controlled his fury—Rygel had no such intentions.

  “Rygel, don’t—” I began, unfurling my wings.

  “He’s my bitch now.” Rygel’s mental growl turned into a hawk’s sharp screech. “He is so dead.”

  “Rygel—”

  Ja’Teel turned, Brutal’s arm sliding off his shoulder. Brutal’s expression grew tight with anger for a split second, then calmed as he watched as Ja’Teel walked away from him, his head high. He waited with more patience than
I’d have accorded him as Ja’Teel searched for what he suspected. To gather his proof that Rygel was near.

  He must have found it, for he pushed Brutal, respectfully, toward his Synn’jhani guards.

  “What the hell?” Brutal snapped, furious.

  “Go, Your Majesty,” Ja’Teel said urgently, his hazel eyes scanning the skies, the scorpion tattoo dark against his pale skin. My hawk’s eyes brought it forward in sharp relief. “Rygel’s here.”

  “Where?” Brutal all but shrieked.

  Ja’Teel didn’t answer, but rather gestured frantically for the white and gold Sins to protect Brutal. They came at the run, their spears leveled as they circled their royal charge. With their bodies, they pushed him toward the army commanders. The regular army troops, hearing and seeing for themselves a crisis that rose to threaten the life of their sovereign, also acted.

  They sprang into excited life, shouting orders, bringing up horses, nocking bolts to crossbows. They aimed upward and downward and everyward, seeking the enemy that endangered the life of their King.

  Brutal shouted for them to leave him alone, but they ignored his fury and pushed him toward the safety of the horses. The Sins took no chances. Three picked him up and threw him onto a horse as the others found their own mounts and vaulted aboard. Galloping hooves heralded their flight, Brutal’s crown bobbing amid the white and gold cloaks billowing in the wind.

  Within moments, the hilltop stood abandoned save the wind whispering through the tents. Ja’Teel stood alone, still searching for his enemy.

  I noticed Tenzin and his great cat had vanished. I had no time to look for them.

  “Rygel!”

  Ja’Teel’s shout brought my attention back to the scene below me. Ja’Teel stood still, his pale face turned upward as though knowing somehow Rygel was above him, but not yet knowing where he was.

  “I know you’re here, Rygel. Come out and let’s talk this over.”

  Ja’Teel scanned the area, the sky, the trees, closely, his hand on his sword hilt, expected Rygel to appear just about anywhere. “We can be reasonable now, can’t we?”