Chapter twenty

Dharsha crouched in the lee of an ancient tree and shivered. Not from the cold, his body had ceased to feel it, plunged into the hunter's mode as it was, nor even from the blood he'd spilled. After the first few men, the shock of bloodletting had become a numb echo at the back of his mind. Fear maybe, that it would all be for naught. That he'd be too late, that they'd kill Caled and leave him on the trail, a burden that Dharsha's hunt had made too costly to keep intact. But they hadn't yet, and they might not, Caled's kinsman seeming narrowly focused on taking him back to that walled city.

Still, Dharsha imagined the likelihood and it chilled him, made his hands shake and his jaw clench, because with Caled dead, he'd be alone in this land of human men and that was no small terror. He hadn't slept and lack thereof likely made his envisioning that much more vivid. Less than a day, he thought, and they'd make the city. One more night to take Caled back and then he was lost, for in the forest, Dharsha had a chance, but within the stonework of a human city, he had none. He wasn't even sure he'd have the courage to venture through those gates again on his own.

So tonight. Tonight was his last chance. Caled's last chance.

A hoarse cry disturbed the silence of the dark wood and his ears canted forward. Not a human sound. A big cat, but different than the ones that roamed the forest of his home. A different tenor to its tone. A female he thought, warning off competition, either another big cat or some other mountain hunter. Reminder enough that he was not the only predator out tonight.

Men froze about the campfire, staring nervously into the surrounding darkness as the scream echoed through the trees. One that had already settled in sleeping bags, shifted, expecting the worse. Expecting Caled's avenging forest spirit to cut a bloody swath through their ranks, most of them city bred and not recognizing the cry for what it was.

He'd heard them whispering, listened to their suspicions grow more and more far-fetched. Tered was in no wise happy with their fears, Tered had cast many a black look Caled's way before he'd settled into his own bedding, damned determined to show them that he shared not their fears.

Not that they cared. They'd seen too many of their fellows fall victim to Caled's forest demon to be anything but terrified of the same fate befalling them. Three of them awake and sitting watch, taking turns patrolling the edge of the campsite with drawn weapons. One always remaining to watch him.

That one edged closer as the forest settled back into silence and the men in their bedrolls, finally settled back into uneasy rest. There was something in the man's eyes that was more dangerous than the madness that Tered sometimes wore. The fearful desperation of a man out of his depths and likely to be unreasonable in his panic.

"There's no human mercy in what's out there," Caled whispered, twisting numb hands in his bonds. The man froze, hand on the hilt of his belt knife, considering no doubt, ending his employer's madness here and now.

"It will kill you all before daylight, if I die."

The guard looked over his shoulder at the sleeping lumps of his fellows, then crouched down, wrapping a fist in Caled's collar. "I've a wife with child. I'll not leave her to fend for herself."

"Fair enough," Caled whispered back, an adrenaline surge of hope making his skin tingle." Let me go. All it wants is my freedom and with it, you and the rest will be safe. It won't hunt these woods again, I promise you that. Return home to her - - all you have to do is loosen the ropes and turn your back. That's all - -"

The man hissed softly, knuckles biting into Caled's chest with the intensity of his grip, then he shoved him back, hard against the tree and stalked off a few paces. A frightened man. A confused one. Probably an honest one, that found himself treating with less than honest terms. Honesty was not a luxury that Caled had found cheap enough to practice these last years, banished as he had been. Tered would not be pleased with a man who let his oh so reviled, oh so cherished brother flee. Almost it would not be worth the cost of a life, if that life were made miserable.

"He doesn't have to know," Caled whispered to the guard's back. "Give me a count and raise the alarm. Blame it on the demon that hunts you. Don't die for his vendetta."

The man said nothing. Refused to turn again to face him and Caled swore himself, softly under his breath and shut his eyes, lamenting the lost opportunity. Frustration could not overcome exhaustion though, and he drifted, a restless sort of drowse - -

- - Until hands upon him shook him out of it. The guard's rough fingers, loosening ropes. The guard's white, tense face thrust into his.

"Go. Go," the man hissed. "I'll not die for him."

There was nothing to say to that, nothing but to gather his battered self, hands so numb as to be useless and slip around the back of the tree and out into the woods. And run.

He was surprised he had it in him. Surprised his legs didn't give out on the first stumble, but hope - - or fear - - gave him strength. He expected to hear pursuit in those first few staggering steps, but none came. Not after the first dozen. Not after the next and he was well into the pitch of the forest, running blind, when he heard the faint cries of men and knew alarm had finally been raised.

And if his heart had been thudding painfully in his chest before, it thundered a chaotic tempo now and he imagined men rushing to horses, readying to rush into the forest in pursuit. And it was not long before he heard those sounds, the heavy thud of horse hooves in earth made soft by snow melt. He tasted the blood from being whipped across the face one too many times with winter bare branches, and all his hard-learned woodcraft seemed worn away by panic.

His hands were scuffed raw from rebounding off tree trunks, from navigating by feel alone at times through a wood where scant moonlight often did not penetrate. He heard the closer call of a man, thought he recognized Tered's voice. Picked up his pace and barely smothered a cry as a shape rushed out at him from the darkness.

Fighting instinct rushed to the fore, and he growled, swung blindly, fist glancing off solid flesh and eliciting a muffled grunt before arms wrapped around him, and a half familiar voice hissed his name.

"Caled. Caled, it's me."

Dharsha. The faint smell of damp leather and fur. The solid warmth of lithe body and strong arms. It took a second for the reality to sink in, then Caled shuddered, and dug his fingers into the leather of Dharsha's tunic while his knees wavered, gone to water of a sudden. He breathed, just breathed for a moment, desperate to catch lost breath.

But Dharsha untangled him, not content to stand there and let Caled recover, gripping his arm tight instead and urging him to motion. The darkness hid his features, but Caled saw the silhouette of those great cat ears twitching nervously, hearing things so much clearer than Caled's dull human senses. Caled kept his feet, gathering strength, calling on reserved he didn't know he'd had and following in Dharsha's wake, down a bank and splashing through the cold wetness of a shallow creek a good ways, then up a muddy bank and Dharsha shoved him towards a small patch of pitch blackness, a cubby that seemed to almost have been dug out of the embankment. Barely large enough for two adult males to curl up inside, the coldness of the earth insulated by a layer of pine tags and leaves, he lay there, gasping, while Dharsha pulled bramble across the opening, cutting out what faint light there was, plunging them into full darkness as he settled down, an awkward process, with another body filling the small space. An elbow here, a knee there, and Caled held back any sound of discomfort, having endured far worse lately to complain of Dharsha's accidentally inflicted pain.

"Gods - -" he started to say, when Dharsha had settled, wrapped around him, warm and subtle smells and soft breath like a balm on pulsing wounds. But Dharsha shushed him, a bare whisper of a breath, and a moment later Caled knew why, as he heard the sounds of movement outside. The faint crunching of leaves, the jangle of tack, the soft blowing of horses and the creak of leather. The sound of men and horses crashing through the underbrush that grew closer and louder, and then passed by, without hesitation, withdrawing with distance.

Caled let out his breath, lay there, forehead touching Dharsha's and let his breathing calm, let the tremors ease from his body.

"Gods," he said softly, and this time Dharsha did not quiet him. And again. "Gods, what you did - -"

"I'm sorry," Dharsha murmured. "They were your brethren - -"

Caled laughed, painful, humorless sound. "No brethren of mine. You misunderstand - - What you did - - for me - - I've no words. Thank you. Thank you."

Dharsha lay there, silent, tail twitching ever so slightly against Caled's leg. Finally, he said. "You did no less for me. I will never forget. Be still and take what rest you can while they roam the woods. When they tire and retreat, we will move."

Spoken like the hunter Dharsha hadn't been weeks past when he'd been newly freed from captivity, all his instincts dulled into hibernation. Dharsha had lamented being weak, lamented the notion that he might never turn into a fierce neko warrior. Caled was no expert on neko culture, or neko hunters more than what he'd seen from Dharsha, but he thought it a fine wager that no full-fledged neko alpha could have done better than his own misplaced young neko in a foreign land amidst a hostile people.

Dharsha sensed the change in the wood when the searchers had moved on. The utter quiet of wary animals shifted into a more natural rustle of nighttime foragers. He sighed, tension easing as the chance of conflict ebbed. Caled was a lax weight against him, having fallen into a drowse easily enough, despite the cramped position and the danger lurking outside. His hands, tucked in between their bodies, were warm now, but they had been chill, all of him had been chill when Dharsha had first found him. There were furs and other pilfered gear with the horses Dharsha had stolen and it was near time they left this little den and made their way to them. Caled, having no thin layer of fur, only thin virtually hairless skin had no protection against the cold.

But he lay a moment longer, curious at the way Caled's breath on his neck made the fur stand on end, finding great pleasure in the feel of the man's lean body so close to his. Even the smell, strong with sweat and days of unwashed skin was no terrible thing. It was Caled's, therefore it was tolerable.

Finally though, survival instinct made him shake Caled gently into wakefulness, and when the man started, disoriented, Dharsha whispered.

"You're safe. Safe."

Caled drew in a shaky breath, another, then let it out in a long low exhalation. "Gods - - How long did I sleep?"

"Not long. It's time to go."

He shifted, untangling himself to back out of the little animal den he'd found and enlarged enough to house larger denizens.

"West. They won't follow us far that way, the western side of this range is Elusian land and there is no love lost." Caled said, crawling out behind him, stiff in his movements. Sore from harsh handling. Dharsha well knew the feeling, remembering all too many mornings after when the body screamed in protest at the smallest movement. He shook off the memory with a low growl and offered Caled a hand up.

"Horses first," Dharsha said and Caled looked to him with a light of hope. Dharsha shrugged, embarrassed. "I've been collecting."

Caled grinned, one with honest humor this time, and white teeth through the stubble lit up his face.

They made their way through a wood starting to grey as early morning light penetrated the winter foliage. Sore and stiff he might be, but Caled knew his woodcraft and moved almost as silently as a neko.

Dharsha had hidden the horses, four of them including Caled's mare that he'd taken early on, in the lee of a rocky overhang and piled bramble and dry brush to hide their presence. Caled greeted that familiar horse with a scratch behind the ears and a hand along her flank, inspecting her for injury. There was pilfered grain in the saddlebag of one that had kept the lot of them content, and someone's extra gloves and hat and tunic, and a fur-lined bedroll that made a decent enough cloak for Caled. Caled pulled the extra tunic on over his own shirt, and wrapped the furs around him, while Dharsha donned his own coat, left with the other various gear. Caled looked over the array of loot, checking his own saddlebags, which were intact, including the rune weapon. He chewed on a stick of jerky while Dharsha saddled the horses and tied the leads of the two spares to the mounts they would ride. Dharsha felt his eyes upon him, silent and thoughtful and wished not for the first time that Caled were more of a nature to speak his thoughts, rather than hold them to himself.

They rode then, straight west, bypassing trails for rougher terrain. Dharsha kept his ears peeled, listening for the faintest hint of searchers, and once, he did hear the far distant movement of something not forest bred. He held up a warning hand and they froze, waiting quietly until that distant sound passed beyond even Dharsha's keen hearing.

Caled took the lead, knowing well these mountains, and only after dusk did he stop in a place that looked to provide some shelter. He sat his horse and looked to Dharsha grimly. "I'd ride the night through, but - -" he lifted a shaking hand. "- - but I fear I'll not stay ahorse much longer."

"It's all right," Dharsha promised. "No one trails us and no one will venture close enough without my notice."

He was certain of that, was certain of abilities he'd doubted himself possessed of not so long ago. Funny that when it had only been his own life, he'd let himself be beaten down, defeated, but when it came to protecting the life of another that was precious to him, the hunter burst forth. That was clan.

They made a simple camp. Tethered the horses and portioned out grain. Caled feared a fire, so they ate dried jerky and sucked on clean snow to wash it down. Caled bid Dharsha retrieve his saddlebag and the collection of medicines therein, and sat in the darkness, lifting the hem of his shirt to reveal the darker marks of burns and bruises. Dharsha cringed, wincing as Caled prodded the edge of a burn, wanting to offer assistance, wanting to do what a neko would for another neko and push him down and take his time licking clean each and every wound, but he was uncertain Caled's reaction to such an offering.

Caled unstoppered a little jar of something that smelled of bell root and chamomile and dabbed it gingerly at a burn across his stomach, while he held his shirt with the other hand. Dharsha shivered with the need to help, shivered with the fear of rejection, then clenched his fists, figuring rejection was the least of the things he had to fear in this land.

He shifted the distance between them, and laid a tentative hand on Caled's arm, felt the man twitch under his touch, and knew well the nerves that would be stretched taut after days of abuse.

"Let me help,"

"I'm fine," Caled's instinctive answer, Caled who had had no one to care for him but himself for too many years.

"You're not," Dharsha contradicted quietly and waited patiently for Caled to realize it. Felt the moment the man's muscles loosened and he gave in. He pushed him back onto the pilfered bedrolls he'd layered into a nest under a cover of bramble and vines, and unlaced the tunic ties, spreading it to reveal cold pimpled skin and the vivid marks of abuse that marred it. Marks that led below the top of his trousers. Claws came out reflexively in anger and Dharsha took a breath, relaxing. He dipped a finger tentatively into Caled's ointment and sniffed it. The smell was strong and not appealing. He would put it on, if Caled wished, but not until the wounds were clean.

He wiped his finger of the furs and leaned down, swiping his tongue across an oblong burn below Caled's navel. Caled stiffened, hands bunching in the bedding.

"Calm," Dharsha whispered against Caled's skin. "There is healing in this. Better than in your reeking gels."

He spread his hands across Caled's cold skin, warm palms careful to avoid the sensitive wounds, worked his way down, and hesitated at the edge of the trousers, looked up to see if Caled had objection, but Caled's eyes were shut, and his face flushed. So no objection there.

Dharsha loosened trouser laces and edged the pants down, feeling a surge and bloodlust at the time they'd spent dealing hurt between Caled's legs. He pushed it back. He'd shed enough of their blood and it was time for healing now.

Burns or not, Caled's cock twitched, filling half-heartedly as Dharsha gingerly lapped his tongue across wounds only just beginning to scab. There was pain in the cleaning, but there was in neko saliva, he'd always been told, a certain potency that soothed aggravated flesh and sped the healing process.

Not to disregard Caled's human practices, when he'd cleaned the wounds to his liking, Dharsha dabbed sparse amounts of the ointment on the worst of the places, before helping Caled relace trousers and shirt. He settled carefully next to Caled then, and arranged the top layer of furs, and lay listening to the wind in the branches, and the small movements of the horses, the mating song of crickets and winter warblers.

"One of us should stay awake, listen for them," Caled said finally, voice heavy with exhaustion.

"I'll hear," Dharsha murmured. "You sleep."

Dharsha drowsed lightly through the remainder of the night and into early morning, aware of the small sounds, and undisturbed by them, only rousing when something large rustled in the brush not far away. He woke in an instant, canting ears and testing the cold air. It was a heavy body, short and smelling of pork. A wild pig that leisurely made a wide circle around their little camp. No danger.

He stretched careful not to disturb Caled, who slept soundly still, in their cocoon of blankets. Dharsha eased out from under, and stretched with more abandon once free of bedding and bedmate. His blood rushed, skin twitching in a way that had nothing to do with blood lust or fear, but with sheer exuberance for morning. For the sheer want of stretching his muscles and shedding the chill of morning.

He cast a careful look at the sleeping lump that was Caled under the blankets, and the still drowsing horses, and grinned, sprinting into the wood with the silence that was as much ingrained as learned.

Not far, did he run, only the perimeter of the area they camped, checking for signs that feet other than those belonging to animals had disturbed the earth. Listening here and there for the careless sounds men made, even when they attempted silence. There were none.

He startled a flock, of winter fowl and leapt as they took to the air, knocking a fat hen out of the air with one swipe of distended claws. So they had breakfast and he even felt safe enough to build a small fire, knowing very well that Caled had no taste for raw meat.

Dharsha returned to camp before Caled had stirred, and had started a small fire by the time the man shifted under the blankets. A dark tousled head appeared from under the covers and looked blearily out at the morning at large.

Dharsha grinned, surrounding by feathers as he plucked the hen clean.

"Breakfast," he said cheerily, feeling it.

Caled rolled his eyes up at the branchy forest canopy. "Did it fall from the sky?"

Dharsha grinned wider. "With a little help."

Caled grunted, took a bracing breath and shoved to his feet. It took a moment for him to gather his balance, stiff and sore still from the look of him, then limped over to the far edge of their little spot to relieve himself. He gathered clean snow and put it in a pot to melt at the edge of the little fire while Dharsha spitted the bird and propped it over the flames.

He dipped a rag in the melted water before even tea was made and sat on a log next to the crackling fire and ran it across face and neck. "I'd give much for a bath. Even a cold mountain stream would be welcome."

"There's one that way." Dharsha pointed west. "Maybe a half day's ride."

Caled canted his head, silent inquiry and Dharsha shrugged. "When the wind turns, I can smell it."

Caled accepted that silently, did his share of breaking camp, despite aches and pains, while the hen roasted. When they sat down finally to consume it, along with tins of bitter tea, Dharsha asked.

"What is this Western land like, that is the enemy of your homeland?"

" Elusia?" Caled gnawed on a leg and considered. "A harsh land, so I've heart. West of these mountains, the lands are not fertile, but dry and arid. And the people secretive and fierce, abhorring outsiders. I've never ventured there, the tales I'd heard quite enough. Very few from the east would voluntarily, I suppose."

He fell silent after that, look drifting inward. They covered the fire pit and buried the bones of breakfast, then sat out, riding the back up mounts today and heading deeper west.

Half a day's riding and they found the remnants of an ancient trail. An animal track that had once been that of man, if the patches of old stonework peeking out from under layers of dirt and crawling vine and roots was any indication. Caled climbed down once to wipe away dirt and creeping vines from a standing waystone and stare at incomprehensible markings carved into its surface.

"What is it?" Dharsha asked.

"A very long time ago, Elusia and Falwar - - the country this land used to be called before civil war split it up into the four kingdoms it is today - - used to be great trading partners. This is a waystone for merchants and travelers. Most of them were destroyed generations ago when treaties broke down and war broke out between them and the border kingdoms here."

He shook his head, clearing it of whatever thoughts clouded his eyes, and pulled himself back onto the black gelding who led his mare.

It was close to evening when they reached the summit of the trail they followed and in the purple light of a setting sun, a vast land spread out before them. Dharsha drew breath, never having seen so much of the horizon before, all his life spent in forest and woodland and mountainous environs, if one discounted the short time spent in the Lady's care in the city by the sea.

Granted, there were a degree of sloping ridges and rocky foothills between the summit where they stood, but beyond that the land seemed to roll on forever. So immense that it made a body feel small in comparison. So flat and free of the fringe of woodland that even here he felt naked.

Dharsha shivered, not sure if it were fear or excitement.

"You don't have to stay with me," Caled said, voice soft, but growing stronger with determination. "Safer if you don't. I have powerful enemies on this side of the border and my company will only set them on you. And on the Elusian side - - gods know what danger's lurk. They're renowned for their distrust of outsiders of human ilk - - I know not what they'd make of you.

"If you stay from the eastern coast and the slave trade there, you should find that your welcome is not altogether unpleasant. There are even places that will welcome such an exotic traveler. Perhaps those that might help arrange a way home for you. You've done enough for me. Risked enough."

Dharsha stared at him, fur standing on end all along his back, tail beginning to thrash of its own accord.

"No," he shook his head firmly. "I would stay with you."

"Why?" Caled laughed bitterly. "For my warmth of character? My honed conversational skills? Why?"

"Because you are clan," Dharsha said simply. "Alone we are nothing but outcasts. Together we are Clan."

Caled stared at him, those bright blue eyes of his wide and dark in the evening light. Dharsha was not sure human thinking could understand the gravity of the concept of Clan. Of the loyalty, of the strength, of the bonds that it encompassed. Look what Caled's own clan had done to him, after all.

Then Caled shook his head, as if Dharsha were indeed beyond his keen, and said. "Your choice. Come on then. Truth to tell, I've had the craving for years now, to see the other side of these mountains, but never had the occasion or the right enemy on my heels to prod me to it. Now's as good a time as any."