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Darkness surrounded him, choking his vision. All around, the night was silent. Not a single sound dared intrude, and the dampness of the air made breathing a chore. The swamp was an unforgiving place and death stalked it this night. Even this late at night, it was warm and muggy. Moonlight flashed on cold steel. Warm blood splashed on his back...shadows in the wood! His heart pounded. The blood was not his, he knew, but that of Dehelian, the youth who'd been placed in his charge less than a month before. Amber eyes stared up at him. What happened? Khan, please? What happened? What's going on? Then understanding. I am dying...

The young fox's eyes cleared, and for just a moment, he looked strangely at Khan.

He is telling him something...something vital. It was there in his eyes. Khan could see it...it was right there!

Rage built inside and he wanted to shake the dying fox. What are you saying? What are you trying to tell me? Tell me! Tell me!

Blood bubbled from the cold black nose of his former lover...and the light left his eyes, taking his secret to his grave...

His white muzzle lifted in a howl that never came. Cold sweat beaded his fur as he reared up in bed, paws desperately seeking the twin curved blades that were never far from his reach. He panted heavily in the still of the night, shivering uncontrollably. He gulped deep breaths to still his hammering heart and glanced around him. The same ferny plants and mangroves. The same stinking water and muddy soil...but no blood on his back. It had not happened today, but more than a decade before. A nightmare. One he hadn't had in years.

The big arctic wolf shivered again and threw the threadbare blankets off him. He habitually slept naked as his thick, white fur provided sufficient warmth. He shivered as the night breeze touched his sweat-damped fur and slowly got up, careful not to disturb his sleeping companion. Kelen Darkwolf was his latest charge, and on his very first run for the Baron's Messengers. The young wolf lay soundly asleep on the other side of the smouldering embers, his blankets drawn tightly around him.

Khan smiled bitterly. No doubt all the trees and the presence of another young soul had brought the memories into his mind once more, and never mind the muggy weather and wet undergrowth. He stood in silence, watching Kel's slender body, contrasting it to Dehelian's.

There really was not much in common. Kel was a black wolf, slender and graceful, lightly muscled and bony. There was not a single ounce of excess fat anywhere on him, and his fur was not as long and silky as Dehelian's had been. Ah, but there were the eyes, ever watchful, wary...luminous with intelligence and soft with gentleness. Kel's were deep aquamarine rather than amber, but they had the same clarity.

He shook his head. Kel was nothing like Dehelian, and yet he feared for him...although not in quite the same way. Kelen was stronger than Del and could hold his own in a fight. He knew ways of defeating an enemy that seemed miraculous to Khan. Khan's own method of fighting involved swords, mace, axe and longbow. Kel had as his entire arsenal two simple throwing knives. It was almost incomprehensible, but it was amazingly effective!

** ** Kel used his entire body as a weapon. A few simple-seeming movements was all it took for him to disarm an opponent. Deliberately, he cast his mind back to his first memory of Kel. Anything to keep his mind away from thoughts of Dehelian...especially in this place...

It was close to midday at the officers' barracks in the city of Von Haugen six months previously. It was early spring and the new recruits were just starting their training...and as usual, Deena was arguing with Bhaz. Deena was a sleek young otter with unusually dark fur and was a master with the longbow.

"I'm telling you! It's magic!" Deena said.

Bhaz scoffed and spat on the dusty ground. He had all the stubborn contrariness of his species and the pure muscle to back it up.

"Nonsense! I've seen hundreds of puppies. They all think they're the bee's knees until they come to my class. This pup will be no different, you'll see!"

"Yeah. Sure. None of the pups you trained were Kiyan. He'll disassemble you."

"Nonsense!"

"Alright. It's your funeral."

Khan pricked his ears. So! They had a Kiyan youth wanting to join up. The news surprised him. He'd visited Kiy in his youth and had even fought against them back in his mercenary days when...whichever of the city-states of the time had tried to invade Kiy. Khan could no longer remember. Old wars and old battles flowed together in his mind like quicksand. All that had mattered back then was who paid best.

No one really knew that much about Kiy besides the fact that they had superb warriors and that they were the only nation not to outlaw witchcraft. As a result, Kiyans were generally not well received on the rare occasions one of them ventured outside their borders. They were a secretive, insular people that no one really understood

Deena was correct. Whoever this Kiyan pup was...he would take old Bhaz apart.

He grinned. It would be worth seeing. The muscular old badger could use a good beating. He listened for a while longer until he overheard the bit of information he wanted: when Bhaz's class was scheduled, then went about his business.

That afternoon, he joined most of the other instructors and a few of the students. Word spread quickly in the messenger community and no one wanted to miss this. The students all arrived in a troop from the previous class and Khan's eyes focussed immediately on the young black wolf that stood on the sidelines of the group.

He was tall. Six feet at least, and slender - almost bony. His shoulders were of average width and his hips too appeared to be largely unpadded. Skin-tight black leather covered most of his body from his ankles to his throat. It left very little to the imagination and Khan almost drooled.

The leather shirt was buttoned in ivory and featured a number of loops that he presumed were meant for weapons - knives probably. Indeed, the silver, unadorned hilts of two knifes stuck out from the pup's belt, one on each side. They were set for quick drawing, Khan noted with a smile.

His black trousers were unadorned and was neatly tucked into the tops of what resembled the usual boots a messenger might wear. The leather around the ankles seemed thicker, offering much-needed support for a runner.

The black-furred wolf walked lightly on his foot-paws, his gait relaxed and casual. Aquamarine eyes darted this way and that while white-tipped ears pricked alertly forward. Watchful but unwary and graceful like a dancer, he was every inch a warrior.

Khan smiled and settled down to watch, his own sapphire eyes drinking in the sight of the young predator.

Bhaz was old and what had once been massive muscles now ran to fat. Even so, in spite of grey furs on his muzzle, he was still the best fighter in the service, and fast. He approached his students and faced them with confidence. Immediately he focussed his attention on the black furred pup as his first victim.

"You! Over here. Right now."

He indicated a spot right in front of him, didn't raise his voice or spoke in a particularly commanding tone. It was the entirely of his presence that made the group of students shrink back and draw together.

Without hesitation, without so much as a dip of his ears, the slender young wolf stepped forward, and Khan noted the confidence in his step. This wolf knew exactly what he was capable of and saw no reason to fear the shorter, but much heavier badger.

He reached the indicated spot and stood still, waiting.

Bhaz was addressing the students, speaking in glowing terms about the lessons he would teach them, and how no matter what skills they thought they had, he would show up the fallacies in their training and make them the best fighters they could possibly be.

Next to Khan, Shareeva, the knife expert nudged him in the ribs with her elbow.

"He has no idea, has he?" She asked in her deep contralto voice.

"None whatsoever!" Khan replied cheerfully, and Shareeva laughed.

Khan put an arm casually around her shoulders and she snuggled in closer. Shareeva was an Indian Wolf and was one of the very few females who actively encouraged Khan's attentions. Together, the two of them had added whole new chapters to the Sutra.

While they cuddled, Bhaz finished his speech and turned his attention back to the black-furred pup. He stared at him for a few moments, then lashed out a paw in a right-pawed jab that he intended to connect on the pup's shoulder.

It never connected. The pup simply wasn't where Bhaz was sure he had to be. Thrown off-balance, his arm moved farther than he expected and in the few moments it took the old badger to reassess his situation and respond, the pup had hold of his wrist. Slender black legs collapsed under him, and he fell backwards, jerking the badger further forward, using the momentum that his opponent's body already had to propel him even further off-balance. His collapsing body fell in a tightly controlled way, going backward and sideways at the same time. Old Bhaz went sailing overhead...but the pup was not done with him yet. His paw still held the old Badger's wrist, and as the pup's arm reached its fullest extension, it jerked Bhaz around so he started to flip onto his back in mid-air. The pup's foot-paws came up and connected squarely on his thighs at the same instant his paw let go. Now carrying his own momentum as well as all of the pup's excess motion, there was no stopping him. Like an arrow out of a bow, Bhaz flew through the air in a graceful arc.

The look on his face was priceless: surprise and panic and mortification warred on the badger's face as he watched the sky, knowing the ground waited below.

As he flew, the pup completed a graceful roll that brought him back on his foot-paws in time to see the badger hit the ground flat on his back. A small smile played across the young wolf's narrow muzzle as the breath whooshed out of the badger. He dusted off his leathers and returned to his classmates.

There was silence for a few moments except for the heavy groaning that came from the heap of badger on the ground, then soft clapping as someone in the crowd gave expression of their appreciation. Soon, the whole crowd was clapping. A few of the older students, those who had suffered most under Bhaz's hard tutelage, even cheered.

Clearly, there was going to be no class today.

Khan looked around for the pup, but he was nowhere to be seen.

Simply amazing...

In the hubbub, Khan too slipped away, and thanked the gods for the existence of this place, where a warrior could still be a warrior without making excuses. The emergence of the Baron had for some reason heavily impacted on the availability of work for mercenaries such as himself. After some months of fruitless searching, he'd come here, and was assigned duty as instructor. To his surprise, the big wolf found that he actually enjoyed it, teaching cocky young warriors lessons that would one day save their lives.

The pay was good and there were plenty of furs and furres around for him to sleep with.

He wondered if the black pup's story was similar to his own.

He wondered if he could get him into bed.

Khan stretched and sighed softly. He looked at the heap of clothes he'd discarded and decided not to dress. Instead he settled down on a fallen tree trunk nearby. So many years have passed since the day Dehelion died, and yet...he could remember it with crystal clarity. Tonight seemed much like that that night had been: the same muggy air, the same low moon...the same darkness. The same swamp.

He shivered and glanced across the fire toward his young charge, deliberately trying not to think about that terrible night.

Kel lay sleeping not ten feet from him, stretched out flat on his belly with his tail drawn tightly over his tailhole, fully dressed and covered in blankets.

Khan chuckled. None of that would stop him if he chose to take the pup. Gods know he'd done it often enough in the past. Few could resist his charms...and those that did were usually quickly persuaded otherwise. Khan always got what he wanted, one way or another.

He chuckled again. His mind never strayed too far from thoughts of his lovely young companion, and to keep his lust for him at least semi-controlled, he let his mind wander again, knowing that sleep would evade him for the rest of the night.

** ** To his chagrin, never got to teach the pup anything.

After old Bhaz's humiliation, the other instructors all carefully tested the pup and passed him. He'd fared worst against Khan, who was fully ambidextrous and with his twin curved blades and good balance of strength and speed, was an easy match for the pup's sword skill.

Not even Shareeva had much to add to his physical training, and so he was handed over to the ancient librarian who would see to his education.

From that moment forward, Khan saw little of him. The old orang-utan seemed as fond of Kel as all the other instructors. The pup spend so much time with his muzzle stuffed in dusty old books that he never paid much attention to anything or anyone else. He did what everyone else did, but never in the ways they did it.

When he trained, he did so in the peculiar way of Kiyans: slow, sinuous movements that suddenly became leaps and whirls as he gyrated and punched and kicked at the insubstantial air. Violence disguised as harmonious grace, like a dance.

It was beautiful to watch, and Khan did so as often as he could, both for the movements themselves and because the pup himself was so beautiful.

When he studied, he did so alone in his room with dozens of small candles surrounding him, his entire attention devoted to whatever he was reading.

Some nights, Khan saw him sitting quietly in repose, his paws resting on his knees, eyes closed and back straight, meditating in the moonlight.

He never took anybody to his bed, never really mixed with the others and never made any waves.

For their part, none of the other studens seemed interested in befriending him either. While the ability to work alone was a valued trait in a messenger, and his seeming dedication to it was commendable, most of the instructors were concerned. It was a subject that came up regularly during the weekly meetings when the instructors reported on the progress of candidates.

"The pup is simply not integrating into the group. He displays absolutely no sense of community whatsoever. I can't see how we can pass him." Old Bhaz groused one evening.

Shareeva sighed and shook her head. They'd had this argument several times in the past and it never got resolved. Khan suppressed a bored yawn and resigned himself to another boring argument.

"Bhaz, it doesn't matter." Shareeva said. "Messengers are alone a lot of the time on the road. He functions well enough in social situations when he needs to. His isolation is more your fault than his, you know. If you hadn't been so eager to prove a silly point and forced him to show up the other students so badly..."

BAM!

Bhaz's fist hit the table, making their tankards rattle. Khan imagined steam pouring from the badger's ears. Shareeva and Bhaz fundamentally disliked each other, and almost always took opposing views. More...Shareeva had a soft spot for the pup just as obviously as Bhaz was out for his hide. Khan shook his head, trying to find a way to get them both to back off so the meeting could end. He had a nice piece of tail lined up for the night and he didn't want to keep her waiting.

"Sharee..." the old badger started again, an edge to his voice. He had the kind of presence that made it seem like he was shaking his finger in her face even though he was across the table from her and still had his paw on the table.

"It's not my fault that he knew everything already. How was I to know..."

"It's not his either! He's better than any of the others..."

"Sharee...!"

Just then, a thought occurred to Khan...one that could serve all their purposes. He blurted it out before Shareeva could gather her breath to speak.

"Why not hand his finishing over to me?"

"...he's made no effort whatsoever...!...Wha'?"

"...at everything we try to teach...!...What?"

Khan suppressed a smile and put on his most innocent expression.

"Why not hand his finishing over to me?" He repeated, and had the immense satisfaction of seeing both Sharee and Bhaz gaping at him like fish.

"Well, why not?" Khan forged ahead. "You lot have been debating this for months and never come up with a solution. I'm the most socially active..."

Shareeva snorted and covered her muzzle with a paw in a sudden fit of coughing. Bhaz's face looked like he was sucking lemons.

Khan ignored them and continued.

"...and I've been to all the lands and most of the cities. Besides. None of you have anything better to suggest. Give him to me. I'll fix him."

They started at him. The silence hung like a blanket of lead over the room.

Finally, old Bhaz roared with laughter.

"By all the gods, why not?"

Khan winced. Out of principle, Shareeva would side against Bhaz, and she was a serious adversary.

"Now see here Bhaz my dear...We all know..."

"Oh, get off your high horse, missy. That pup kicked my ass. If he can kick mine, he can certainly kick Khan's. If Khan wants to risk his balls on the pup, I say let him."

And that settled that. He'd spent months hunting the pup, and failed. And now...now he was going to get him.

That very night, when the assignments were made, Khan lingered near the assignment board, casually sipping brandy and idly joking with whoever passed, as if he was just a friendly instructor who wanted to congratulate his students on their first assignments, curious to see Kel's reaction.

He'd even dressed up for the occasion. Unlike Kel, Khan favoured dark greens and browns in a lighter, more baggy style. He'd never been comfortable in leather and heavy linen was cooler. His fuzzy white fur made wearing lots of clothes unnecessary. His twin swords were strapped across his back. Every inch the correct messenger garb.

When Kel came though, he barely lifted an eyebrow when he saw who he'd been assigned. He just gave Khan a searching look, a look that for some reason knotted Khan's belly. It wasn't a threat, not even a warning, but a...a curiosity, a questionthat suddenly Khan didn't have the answer for. Why WAS he doing this? Kel strode off to his little student's cubicle and the moment was lost. Khan dismissed the thought and went to bed.

The next morning he rose well before dawn to pack the meagre provisions that was a messenger's lot and headed out, fully expecting the pup to be still in bed. Instead he found him tying his packs to his back, ready to leave. He could only nod curtly when Kel raised an enquiring eyebrow, and motioned with one paw for him to take the lead. Kel did so with no hesitation and set off at a brisk pace into the early morning gloom. Not a word was said. None was necessary. They both knew what was going on: Khan was going to try and get Kel, and Kel was going to resist.

Khan shivered and set off after him, watching and waiting for any chance that might come his way.

Kel hadn't fallen for him that easily though. Khan smiled in the darkness. Even now, the pup remained wary, watchful. Even when soundly asleep, his ears swivelled, listening for every little sound.

His face though, was relaxed and peaceful. Not even staid young Kiyans could resist the romance of the road, the joy of the wind whipping through fur as they ran in utter freedom, going wherever, the future a blank sheet waiting to be painted.

Out here, the blank mask had fallen away from Kel's face. His eyes glittered with the fierce joy of running, face animated when he enthusiastically told Khan about his homeland, about what he'd read in his books about the villages they now passed, about how this or that person was making difficulties for the Baron in his quest for peace.

Khan usually listened with just one ear. What did he care for peace? Or books? Out here though, there was no evading the pup's chatter and almost in spite of himself, Khan found himself drawn into conversation, not only about what had happened, but about what it all meant.

As the days had worn on, he'd found himself looking inward more and more, reassessing events in his past in the light of the treasure-trove of insights Kel offered. It had belatedly occurred to him that maybe being skilled in more than just swordplay (quick grin) might not be all bad.

Once again, he glanced in Kel's direction, wondering why he was doing this. And why the pup reminded him so much of Dehelian.

He sighed and looked off into the darkness. It was small comfort. How on earth had he gotten to this point, back where it all started?

He watched the pup carefully as they ran, looking for any sign of fatigue, of loss of concentration, of carelessness, but there was nothing. Even when talking at full tilt, the pup kept scanning his surroundings, kept tabs on his companion, watching him as carefully as Khan watched him.

Khan had already concluded that simply taking the pup would fail. There was no guarantee that he could best him in a wrestling match. Khan well knew he was physically more powerful than Kel and had more stamina, but Kel was faster. Much faster. He also had his Kiyan battle skills. He could quite possibly tie Khan around a tree if he really wanted to. Old Bhaz was perfectly correct about that. No. Catching him by surprise was out of the question. Khan was quite convinced that nothing would ever surprise this lad. He would have to be more subtle.

So it was that he played the part of the professional, dutiful Messenger's Guard, as if he'd left his designs on Kel behind when Kel graduated from student to formal Messenger. Whether he was fooling him remained to be seen. Kel maintained his watchful brief.

They ran all day, every day, from sunrise to sunset, stopping only to hunt whatever was available in the woods or on the plains. They took turns dressing the carcasses, setting up camp, building the fire and cooking their meals...when they bothered with cooking at all. By day, they hunted small game, drinking the blood for the quick energy it offered and stuffing the carcasses in their packs for later consumption.

Khan was impressed with the time they were making. Kel might lack his stamina, but by the gods, he could keep up! For some reason that pleased him. Few of the puppies he'd chaperoned had really been prepared for life on the road; the sole reason veterans like Khan was always sent along for that first run. It hadn't taken long for Khan to realize that Kel didn't need any guidance from him.

Not that this surprised him. He knew something of the Kiyan folk. Their young were trained in what was commonly referred to as the martial arts from the time they could stand up. The strange tenets of their religion were somehow connected to this. Khan had never cared enough to find out exactly how.

Kiyans lived their religions somehow. Their art of the body was somehow also connected to this. Theirs was a life of hardship, but also of great joy and beauty, to hear Kel tell it. No, the pup didn't need him at all. It was refreshing and left him time to simply observe the pup for his own sake, simply because he was so beautiful!

The attack came late that afternoon. They passed between a series of hillocks; a narrow pass that some long-ago lord had carved to connect his upper and lower pastures. The hillsides immediately adjacent to the road had been cleared of trees, but further back, tiny copses of fast-growing pine remained. No city-state claimed jurisdiction over the area and thus maintenance had been neglected for decades. No maintenance...and no patrols. Wary as the two wolves were, the attack nevertheless almost caught them by surprise. With the sun in their eyes, they did not see the shadows moving at the edge of the trees at the bend in the road directly ahead.

Mercifully, the first shot fired went slightly wide, as if the archer were unused to shooting at a moving target. The slight mistake was warning enough. With the speed of long familiarity, the twin blades Khan carried hissed out of their leather scabbards even as one of Kel's throwing knives whistled through the air past Khan's left ear and into the throat of the archer above. He collapsed into a heap, gurgling as he drowned in his own blood.

Shouts came from the woods to their left and right and without hesitation, the two wolves took station at each other's backs. Khan cursed under his breath, his blades held ready, eyes scanning the area. Kel stood crouched behind him, his one remaining knife gripped tightly in his left paw. Five shapes materialised, moving confidently, defiantly, waving a motley collection of weapons. Three to the left, two to the right, but no more archers. Khan gave silent thanks to the Kiyan gods for the young black wolf at his back.

Behind him, Kel readied himself, positioning himself in that deceptively calm posture that spoke volumes about the violence about to be unleashed. No time to worry about the pup. The lead shape charged. Khan swung into action, twin blades flashing in the sunlight as they rushed forward to meet the blade of the fox in the lead. He beat the raised blade contemptuously out of his way and spun, letting his momentum carry him past his assailant.

The second blade drank deeply of the fox's jugular as he swung past, just in time to meet an incoming mace. Metal screamed and twanged as the mace shattered the right hand blade. Khan cursed again, furious at himself. He let himself collapsed to the ground to evade his attacker.

The badger's huge momentum carried him past Khan and as he turned, Khan's heel lashed out and crunched into the badger's knee , shattering it. The beast roared with rage and pain, but was quickly silenced by a quick stab to the heart. One more.

Khan scanned his surroundings. The third assailant had rushed past him and had joined his one remaining companion in confronting the pup. Another fox lay dead, a neat slice across the belly that proclaimed Kel's skill with his blade. It wasn't a lethal wound, but were sufficiently distracting for Kel to crush his windpipe.

Very neatly done.

Nevertheless, the remaining wolf and bear were armed with long-swords. Not even Kel's prodigious speed would save him for long. Khan raised his blade and rushed into the fray, snarling fiercely. The momentary distraction he provided was enough for Kel's deadly blade to sink into the bear's left eye. Khan hadn't even seen his arm sweep up to throw it. Moments later, Khan's blade found its mark in the wolf's back. It collapsed and died with blood bubbling from its nose and muzzle. Khan snarled in contempt and kicked the corpse hard.

Fool of a wolf! Fool of a robber, to take on Khan! And Kel. He turned to face the pup. Kel stood calmly by, scanning the woods on either side of them, wary for any potential reserves. He was not even breathing hard. Behind him, a sword glinted in the grass. So. He'd disarmed the fox before dispatching him. Impressive! He searched the youngling's face, but found no signs of undue distress. Khan smiled ruefully. A warrior born.

Khan took up the sword Kel had taken from the fox, noting with a wrinkled nose the spots of rust on what was otherwise a fine weapon. It wasn't curved like the blade that had been broken, and it was a bit heavier too. Khan sneered. The hilt was overlaid with gold leaf. It might once have belonged to a nobleman and was a bit ornate for his taste, but it would serve.

Kel retrieved his knife, wiped it clean in the grass and replaced it in his belt. Khan shrugged and moments later, they were back on the road. Kel seemed to lag a little, so Khan slowed his pace. They were close to the city now anyway.

They reached the city of Temet just after sunset. It had not been Khan's intention to stop there, but they were both tired. They'd pushed each other hard over the last week and both were beginning to feel a bit flea-bitten. What worried Khan more was that young Kel was beginning to show signs of a limp. He deliberately avoided thinking about his own aching back and shoulder.

Temet was a fair-sized city of about 25,000 furs and humans, all mixed together. Temet sat right where the furry kingdom of Furwold and the mostly human-occupied territory of Woodsworth met. Although officially a loose collection of independent city-states, everyone in Woodsworth took their orders form the Duke of Reeve, who in turn accepted "suggestions" from the Lady Killwing of Wolfswood, who was heavily influenced by her mate, the Lord Steelheart, who...surprise, surprise, was the Baron's second in command.

Khan shook his head and grinned. The convolutions of politics had never attracted him, but now...There was something amazing about the balance of power the Baron maintained. And the Messengers were integral to that. For the first time in his life, Khan felt himself a part of something larger than himself.

They approached directly and flashed their official badges of service and were immediately admitted into the city by the gate guards. Khan watched carefully and took note of the worried looks the guards exchanged, desperate fear in their eyes.

Beside him, Kel tensed and kept close without having to be prompted. Khan smiled. He had good instincts. They proceeded down the main carriageway toward an inn Khan frequented during passage through the city: The Night Owl.

All around them, people watched them with the same suspicion and fear that the guards displayed. Some looked outright hostile, but none dared interfere. The Messengers were officially acknowledged by the city's ruler, and though they didn't have an official chapterhouse here, they still had representation. Lady Killwing made sure of that.

They reached the inn and were ushered inside by a bustling old mousewife who mothered them outrageously. Kel meekly submitted to her ministrations, looking embarrassed, while Khan looked on, amusement twinkling in his eyes. He knew old Molla very well, how to deflect her instincts. She was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever had. So he sat back and watched as she fussed over Kel, feeling strangely warm inside.

After supper, Molla led them upstairs to a large room with a single bed, apologising all the way. It was the only room she had available. Kel looked a bit suspicious about that though. Khan smiled. One look had been all it took to let Molla know what he wanted; one look at her...and one longing look at the pup. Molla was quick, and as always, willing to help the cause of love.

She ushered them inside, and promised to wake them before dawn with a suitable breakfast and some supplies. Khan thanked her warmly, and at the last moment impulsively caught the old mouse in a bear hug and swung her around once, startling her to a delighted laugh. She touched his cheek once with a greying paw and left, her old eyes misted over. From the corner of his eye, Khan noticed Kel looking at him with the most peculiar little smile on his face, his eyes soft and oddly surprised. He shrugged and dismissed the thought. Must be imagining things. He grinned to himself. Time to start on phase two of his master plan.

Molla's inn had the most luxurious of bathhouses deep in the basement. Water heated in the kitchen over the cooking fires was piped down to the bathhouse, where careful attendants added herbs and scented oils to revive tired bodies and drive away the fleas. After dropping their packs in their room, Khan led the pup down the stairs, where they were greeted by two silent hares who each handed them brushes, soap and scented towels.

Grinning, Khan indicated Kel precede him, where an old vole imperiously demanded their clothes. Khan watched, amused, as Kel flushed scarlet under his black fur, but the old master of the bathhouse would not be evaded. Ears flattened to his skull, Kel stripped out of his tight-fitting black leathers, careful to keep his back to Khan.

At last, Khan had a sight of the pup in the nude. His leathers didn't leave much to the imagination, but it did conceal the fact that he was not merely slender and bony. His back was straight when he stood, but also wondrously supple. Lean muscle rippled in his back as he bent over to remove his trousers. His legs too were muscular and well-toned. It was as if his muscles fitted his skeleton like his clothes fitted over his body. There was not a single ounce of fat anywhere on his body.

Seconds later, he disappeared into one of the deep tubs.

Prompted by the old vole, Khan too stripped. The old vole collected their clothes and headed out to have them washed, leaving the two wolves mostly alone. Khan climbed into the huge communal tub where Kel was already submerged and applied himself to scrubbing himself clean with every indication of ignoring the pup.

The attendants came to scrub and brush their backs. Unused to such personal attention, Kel squirmed uncomfortably under their ministrations. Through much fussing, brushing, scrubbing and drying, he remained stiff and tense, unlike Khan who submitted with every indication of enjoyment.

Once done, the attendants dressed them in simple white robes and let them return to their room. Kel followed Khan in silence, subdued and yawning. He limped openly now, worrying Khan somewhat. He'd noticed a number of small cuts and bruises while the attendants dried him. He'd better examine the pup and see for himself whether he was fit to continue on the morrow. If not...he grinned. He wouldn't complain..

Back in their room, he motioned for Kel to sit down on the bed. The pup lowered his muzzle and ears with embarrassment, but did as he was told. From one of the drawers by the window, he produced soft, baggy linen nightwear, which he tossed to Kel. Like the bathing robes, it was white, and fitted loosely.

When Kel failed to put it on, Khan turned his back to offer the pup some privacy, shaking his head as he did. It was a peculiar kind of modesty with him, this aversion to nudity of his. Damn inconvenient too.

Khan himself had no compunctions; casually he tossed the simple white robe to the floor and dressed in the nightwear provided, then turned to face Kel. The pup sat uncomfortably on the edge of the bed, looking down at the floor.

Something in Khan melted at the sight of him. He was so adorably vulnerable-looking. Looking at him, one would never guess the softness inside. He had the mind and body of a warrior...and yet there was something about him that...that was looking for something.

He shook himself and knelt by his pack, searching for the jar of herbal ointment he always kept there. Once found, he rose and carefully made his way to where Kel sat, and began a meticulous examination of every inch of his body. Whenever he found a small cut or abrasion, he gently licked it clean and applied the healing unguent.

Kel sat, his body rigid, his face confused as his superior rendered him a service no pup of his rank dared expect: Khan was an alpha, and Kel wasn't yet.

Careful not to let his tongue linger more than necessary, nor to let his paws wander too much, Khan worked his way down from Kel's back to his belly and hips, where he found the source of Kel's limp: a large bruise where some fur must have kicked him, right on the joint where the thigh attached to the hip. Khan hissed. The pup was lucky that the hip wasn't dislocated.

There was no way he could continue at any sort of pace on the morrow. He probed gently with stubby fingers and was rewarded by a sharp yelp of pain.

No. Kel was in no condition to run. How he had managed to keep pace since sustaining the wound Khan didn't know. From pain-dulled and stricken eyes, Khan saw that the pup knew they were not going anywhere. That this wounded his pride was equally obvious when he turned away from Khan and curled up on the far side of the bed. Khan almost laughed out loud as he blew out the candle and settled on the bed next to Kel.

On an impulse, he snuggled close to the pup's back and drew him close in a protective hold. Kel whined a weak protest, but Khan growled a slow warning and he quit complaining: a pup had no recourse in the face of an alpha's insistence. Deciding that the pup's pride had taken sufficient blows for one day, Khan took no further liberties that night, and, when Kel evidently came to the same conclusion, he relaxed and snuggled down to sleep. Khan smiled and with an old soldier's discipline, fell asleep himself.

Evidently, Molla had come to the same conclusion Khan himself had the previous night, for when he woke, sunlight was merrily streaming in through the tiny crack between the window shutters. Molla had not awakened them as promised...but then, the old mousewife always had been good at reading people. She would have seen that Kel would not be able to run.

Next to him, the young black wolf was still asleep. His slender body was pressed tightly to Khan's stockier frame and the warmth of his body soaked the bed and Khan's fur. The larger wolf's heart melted. He ran one paw gently along the length of Kel's body, caressing the soft fur. Dear gods, he was beautiful!

Regretfully, he drew away from him. Instinct warned him that it would be better if he was not nearby when the pup woke. Given his usual aversion to physical contact and his constant embarrassment concerning such commonplace actions as dressing, maybe it would be better if he woke alone, his dignity intact.

The night had not gone smoothly for Khan. With the object of his desire so close to him, his body constantly ached to have him. Not used to restraining his own lust and not even sure why he was doing so, the night had passed with acute discomfort. Kel's every movement tormented him, yet he made no move to take him, and he wished to all the gods he knew why.

He'd joined a band of mercenaries at 14, fought in a dozen battles before he turned 18, lost his virginity...well, he hadn't HAD his virginity anymore when he joined up. A dozen...a score...a hundred lovers passed through his bed until he lost count completely. Now here he was, 32 years old and unable to take a pup 12 years younger.

He shook his head and opened the door. Just outside, he found his clothes, clean and neatly folded, just as he knew they would be. He smiled and got dressed, then headed down for breakfast. True to form, there was Molla, bustling about serving breakfast to the late risers. She grinned a quick greeting and swiftly delivered a platter of bacon and a bowl of porridge, then plopped down beside him and hugged him. She hadn't done that since he turned 18. He ducked his head, suddenly embarrassed and the old mousewife's grin broadened. Khan grinned back and applied himself to breakfast while old Molla sipped her tea and chatted, catching him up on all the latest news.

Khan listened with one ear, sifting information. There was nothing important there, which was surprising, considering the town's reaction to his and Kel's arrival. When next Molla stopped for breath, he interrupted her, and told her about what had happened, how the people had reacted. Molla nodded, and patted his hand.

"Khan dear boy...it's not that hard to understand. People know what Messengers mean. They pass from town to town swiftly and the only reason for a Messenger to pass through Temet is when they're heading for Shiva. Things have been strange up there lately, and strange usually means disease. Those people built their city right close to the swamp. Too close. I'd need a dozen paws to count the number of strange illnesses that swept through there in my own lifetime. Nobody wants that down here, and all it takes is one swift Messenger. Especially now, when a dozen merchants heading that way went missing and no traffic came from there in well over a fortnight. People are frightened. True, we sit on the only direct trade route going into Galweland, but who's going to use it if word got out that Shiva is devastated by disease? The overland route past Islewigh may be perilous, but at least you can avoid the swamp with its constant pestilence, and were that to happen, Temet will die. So you see why Messengers would be unwelcome."

She held out one paw when Khan drew breath to speak.

"No. Listen. There's more. We've had...sightings. Sightings of strange creatures around the edges of the swamp, things that move like shadows, hardly glimpsed...what's wrong?"

Khan had rocked back, eyes wide with remembered terror. _Shadows in the woods...moving swiftly. Moonlight on drawn steel..._He drew a shuddering breath and smiled.

"Nothing, Mo. Just...an old memory."

She patted his hand sympathetically and, sensing that he needed time alone, she moved off on the pretext of berating a clumsy serving girl.

Shadows in the wood. He shuddered. And they were going in there tomorrow. A young pup on his first run and an experienced fighter to protect him and see to his finishing...No. No, not again.

Right there. Right at that instant he understood. Dehelian, the sweet little amber-eyed fox had loved him. More. He'd understood him where Khan himself didn't.

Khan sat at the table and stared into his porridge.

A little while later, Kel joined him. The pup was dressed in his usual leathers, but sans his weapons. He knew as well as Khan that he would not be running today, and Khan's heart swelled with pride. The pup was mature well beyond his years.

"Come," he said when Kel finished his porridge and bacon. "We might as well take a look around town. It might be a while before we get a chance for leisure again, so we might as well use it."

He smiled warmly, and Kel smiled back, his eyes still guarded, but less wary than the night before.

They got up, and Khan signalled Molla. She nodded, and the two wolves made their way outside into the bustle of the city.

Khan stayed close by Kel's side as they made their way slowly down the crowded streets. He watched carefully to be sure that he didn't strain the muscles, but got enough exercise to prevent them stiffening. It was a fine balancing act, but one he was well accustomed to. They could not afford to stay more than a day or two.

Kel chattered animatedly as they more or less strolled along. Pained his hip may be, but there was nothing wrong with his spirits. He seemed recovered from whatever had disturbed him the night before.

They stopped at various stalls to examine the goods on offer. ** ** Khan watched with some amusement as the young wolf haggled with an ancient seller of charms for a blue crystal pendant set in brass. It wasn't a stylish piece in Khan's opinion, being a bit crudely fashioned from inferior metals, but Kel claimed that the crystal itself had certain spiritual properties that were apparently quite important. Khan didn't argue with him, and they moved on.

At a booth three stalls over in between a vegetable seller and a street cobbler, Kel got two leather-bound books, to which Khan objected strenuously. He also bought a curious implement that Khan didn't recognise. Khan gave up completely at that point.

For himself, Khan got a name tag made of polished steel, and Kel paid to have his name engraved on it. It wasn't standard messenger practice, but he'd always liked the idea of having a tiny bit of identification on himself. Just in case. A lot of the older soldiers in Khan's old band had had such tags. While the blacksmith's apprentice took care of inscribing Khan's name on the metal disk, the smith himself, a massive Friesian bull with a missing horn, took care of polishing the sword Khan had taken as a replacement. ** **

A stop at the tanner saw them walking off with a new scabbard for the fixed blade since the old one was curved and didn't fit the new sword too well. They also got a new collar for Kel, one made of soft black leather into which Khan paid to have the crystal from the pendant set. It looked much more stylish, in Khan's opinion, and Kel seemed to agree. The translucent blue crystal set off the young wolf's aquamarine eyes perfectly and the silver clasp of the collar itself contrasted sharply with the midnight black of his fur. Enchanting!

Khan got them lunch at one of the better food stalls - stuffed mushrooms on sticks and mystery meat pie that neither of them enquired about too closely. Still, it was perfectly spiced and went down well with ginger beer.

Khan still wanted to replace his tattered work clothes, so they went to the tailors where his taste in clothes apparently horrified his young companion. Careful to hide his smile, he let Kel choose the colours. Still, Khan did insist on anything other than leather. He refused to wear leather. In the end, they compromised on sturdy cottons in softer shades of brown and green than Khan normally wore. All in all, Khan thought it was rather unfair of Kel to stuff him into such frippery, but he didn't complain.

Kel got nothing there, and they moved on, more or less strolling through the wide streets, chatting idly.

This was new territory for Khan, not just such idle conversation, but also shopping. He'd never had anyone to shop with before, and certainly not one that talked as much as Kel. Not that he minded. His talk was soothing. Once he caught sight of the pup's eye and noted the confusion; tender concern warring with cynical disbelief, and suddenly he knew, without knowing how he knew, that the pup had been hurt in the past. That he wanted very much to believe what he saw in Khan was obvious, but he just couldn't.

Well. He'd better do something about it.

Back at Molla's that night, he signalled expansively for her to bring them her best and the old mouse enthusiastically obeyed: tender cutlets of lamb, dumplings in vegetable stew thickened with blood and a dessert of such sweet delicacy - Mo flatly refused to name - it mented in their muzzles, all served with rich ale for Khan and cider for Kel.

Khan's eyes misted lightly when old Mo joined them at the table and regaled the youngster with tales from Khan's mercenary days, when Temet was his company's headquarters and The Night Owl the only place he felt safe. Embarrassing events: drunken nights and fights going bad. Gradually, Kel warmed to her and Khan faded into the background, leaving the room to make his preparations. Molla knew Khan well enough to know what he planned...and believed in him enough to have faith that maybe this time, Khan would stick with it. He prayed to Kel's Kiyan gods that he wasn't wrong.

Kel came up to their room later, his eyes shining brightly. Khan was waiting, sitting on the bed brushing himself. He glanced up when Kel entered and smiled when the pup paused in the doorway. Khan motioned for him to enter and began brushing his legs, leaving Kel with nowhere to go and no other choice but to do as he was told.

Predictably, his ears went flat, but he entered and closed the door behind him. Khan held the brush out to him, a plain request that Kel groom him as Khan had done for him the night before, a request Kel dared not ignore. He took the brush and climbed onto the bed, settling in behind him. Khan kept perfectly still, leaving Kel to his own devices.

Evidently unsure how to proceed, Kel tentatively started on Khan's left shoulder. The brush immediately encountered a snarl. Khan stiffened with the sudden pain of pulled fur and Kel immediately stopped pulling. Instead, he started probing at Khan's fur, searching for snarls before drawing the brush through Khan's fuzzy white fur. When Khan failed to show any response to this, he continued with more confidence, probing and brushing.

Khan stretched and leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees and murred softly. Behind him, Kel finished his back and moved closer so he could reach around Khan's stocky body to his chest and belly.

This was the moment Khan had been waiting for. When Kel reached around him, he caught him by one arm and swiftly pulled him around and into his lap. Kel yelped with surprise, eyes wide with fright, but Khan's paws gentled instantly, cradling his body in his arms.

He grinned and deliberately tickled his side, as if he'd done it on impulse. The pup giggled and squirmed, but Khan had him pinned. With a laugh, he tickled harder and soon he had Kel laughing helplessly and howling loudly for him to stop it. Soon, the two of them were rolling around on the floor, tickling each other and laughing helplessly. Kel put up a spirited defence, and was well on his way to victory when Khan cheated. At a moment carefully chosen, he licked Kel's cheek gently and hugged him close.

This brought their play immediately to an end. Pinned beneath Khan's greater weight, Kel stared at him in utter shock. Khan grinned at him and licked him again, right on his shiny black nose. Something akin to a murr escaped his lips, but changed to yips of laughter. Khan grinned broadly and let him up.

"C'mon. We should get some sleep." He jerked his head toward the bed and held out his paw toward Kel.

Kel blushed under his black fur, but came willingly enough. Khan threw back the covers and lay down, arms held out for Kel to join him. The pup did so without comment or complaint, and when Khan enfolded him in his arms, he snuggled close. They wriggled a bit to get comfortable, and eventually, Kel settled his muzzle and forehead against Khan's chest. Before Khan could settle down properly himself though, Kel jerked his head up and licked him once on the side of his muzzle before settling back down.

With that single little gesture, and without fully realising that he'd done so, he stole Khan's heart. The second awakening, and one much more precious because it was so unexpected.

Khan sighed where he sat alone in the moonlight. Now was or wasn't Kel interested in him? That second revelation had shown him that he wanted much more than he set out to get. He wanted the pup to be his mate. But did Kel think of him that way? True, they shared their blankets these days, but thus far, he'd shown not one hint of sexual interest. Was it just friendship, friendliness, that brought him to Khan's bed? A simple need for comfort, or just a preference not to sleep alone? Was it simple obedience to an alpha's will? He glanced at Kel to where he lay peacefully sleeping and relaxed. Ah, but he was worth it! If he could have Kel by his side for the remainder of his days, it would all be worth it.

If they ever made it out of the swamp alive.