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Chapter 4

Decision

Eesan sat silently resting his muzzle on his fist, while the scout left the yurt. It was just the five of them now.

Hydarr, on an ornate ivory chair that served as his throne, waited for the flap of leather to close behind the scout.

"Well?"

The four members of his war council exchanged looks.

Kaytar spoke first. That was predictable, thought Eesan.

"The evidence mounts." Kaytar was the largest raptor in the room. He also had the least scars, a testament to his cautious nature. What qualified him to serve on the council was his innate ability to return from raids with both the fewest casualties and the most spoils.

Halst slammed his fist into the scuffed table. "We don't run from furred devils. We don't run from anything!"

In many ways, Halst was the polar opposite of Kaytar. Small and a born risktaker.

Halst ran his claws over the mass of scars that covered his face. A subtle taunt at the larger raptor's well maintained looks.

"It's not about running," said Kaytar. "If they are building an army the size we think-"

"Based on the word of betas and slaves!"

Kaytar was not going to let Halst goad him into another argument. He continued, speaking more to Hydarr than to anyone else. "-With what information we can gather, they are dead set on coming after us."

Eesan stifled a yawn. This was becoming a weekly routine. For the past four months, he had listened to reports from scouts, that the deerfolk were massing an army to push back the western raptor tribes.

Hydarr played with a gold ring.

Eesan wondered if he was also bored.

Tallt, the newest member of the council tried to interject several times while the two raptors rehashed tired arguments.

Eesan knew he would just agree with Kaytar. So, apparently, did Hydarr

"And what do you think, Eesan?"

He was caught off guard, "Uhhh... Well, if they really do have spies everywhere, what's the point in moving camp? They'll be able to follow us."

"There are no spies," said Halst.

Kaytar said, "under torture, many of the slaves we-"

"Under torture, deer will admit to anything!"

Eesan stopped scratching the table and slowly moved his hand to his sword hilt. Alphas could be touchy and it would not be the first time a meeting would turn into a bloodbath.

Hydarr stood. The bickering stopped.

"As a precaution, we will move deeper into the woods. Tomorrow night, I want the entire tribe on the move." The chief looked into Halst's good eye. No arguments were forth coming. "But Eesan was right when he said, if there are deerfolk spies hiding in the slave's ranks they will leave a trail. We'll just have to leave them."

Eesan sat up. He knew what that meant. Hydarr had a large stable of slaves for his personal use. There were even rumours about his particular affection towards a few fauns.

"Do yo mean all of them?" Eesan asked.

Hydarr left no room for doubt. "Kill them all. I will personally attend to my own. And kill any of the tribe that has gotten soft enough to question putting the our orders above the life of a slave."

***

Chapter 5

Time

Before leaving the camp Sleet's captor insisted they visit the storage pits. Sleet refused to take the chance, but the buck's will won out when he threatened to go look for it himself.

"There it is... now let's leave," Sleet constantly looked about them. No one appeared to be watching them.

The supply pit was more of a cluster of shacks set up around a shallow depression, than an actual pit. It was the central dump for the raptors weapons and food.

Sleet tugged the leash around the deer's neck. "Wait," the buck snapped. He went into deep focus, moving his lips in silent conversation to himself.

Sleet caught the whisper of distant shouts and whistles. His feathers ruffled. I was probably nothing, but the feeling of creeping death can make one edgy.

He glanced to see if the buck had heard anything. Still lost in observation.

Sleet dropped the the leash. "Stay."

He crept toward the sounds, trying to make out what was going on.

The wind shifted. The scent of a crowd reached him. Something was not right.

He backed away from the tent he was leaning against. Sounds were getting closer. He spun and ran back to the deer.

"Now! For the love of the gods, we need to leave!"

The sound of approaching raptors was audible to the buck now. "Alright. Let's leave the way we came."

Sleet looked in the direction of the sound. "Why?!"

"I need to be sure I remember the way."

Sleet ran a claw through his feathers. He might be able to bypass the crowd, but his instincts were screaming that a horrendous situation was about to get worse.

The two of them cut between tents. Only slowing when the growing shadows began to cause the deer to stumble.

Sleet waited for him to get up without offering any help. Instead he stood motionless and listened. The crowd was definitely gathered in the center of the camp.

What were they saying?

The buck shove the raptor forward. Sleet mumble a curse over his shoulder and rounded the edge of the tent.

He froze before fully leaving the shadows. In flash he was backpedaling into the deer, knocking him over again.

"HEY!" a raptor's voice called out.

The buck was pushing himself up, "you clumsy f-"

Sleet turned on him, "Get on your knees and stay silent!" he whispered.

At least six alphas, armed. He wondered if he had offended any gods to the point that one was determined to see him dead.

"Just-" Sleet tried to let the buck in on his plan but the alphas were too close now. He took a firm grip on the deer's antlers, pulling the surprised deer's face into his crotch, just as the first alpha came around the corner.

"Take it, you fucking slut!" Sleet shouted.

"Hey!" the alpha stood a few steps away.

Sleet turned his head, keeping his back to the alpha, pretending to first notice him. "Sir?"

What the hells! Sleet felt the ties on the front of his pants loosen. The kneeling buck pressed his lips to Sleet's slit.

"You listening?" asked the angry alpha.

Sleet refocused. "Sorry, sir?"

"I said did you hear the announcement?" the rest of the alphas passed by, stopping just momentarily.

"N-no, sir. I was just heading there to see what the noise was."

The alpha craned his neck, trying to get a look at the kneeling buck.

"Would you like this slave, sir?" Sleet suppressed a gasp as he felt teeth pressed to his sensitive nether skin. Bite me, and I will snap your neck, he wanted to shout.

"No," he said reluctantly. "No time. The camp is moving. Be packed by nightfall tomorrow. And kill the buck when you're done."

"Sir?"

The alpha was already walking on. "We can't bring any slaves. Spies or something. We're killing them all, tonight." His voice trailed off with distance.

Sleet stayed planted with the deer's face pressed to his genitals until he was sure the alpha had moved on.

What could he say to that? What could anyone? He let go of the deer's antlers. "Let's go. If we're stopped again..."

The deer was silent, but in the dimming light Sleet saw a look of hatred that threatened to singe the air.

They made it to the gamma populated edge of the camp. The sun must have been dipping low. Very little light was still filtering through the dense canopy. They crouched by a low growth of fern, while Sleet scanned the dark scene.

The alphas had little trust for the gammas. Packs of warriors were searching dwelling to dwelling, putting any slaves to the sword. Outside the camp, Sleet saw bodies strung up on limbs of the taller underbrush. There must have been warriors waiting for any trying to run away.

"That direction," Sleet pointed. "But I can't see if anyone's waiting for..."

The buck spoke for the first time since the extent of the raptors regard for their captives was demonstrated. "I'll stand up. Try to draw any guard that might be there towards us. Wait behind that tree and if I do draw a lizard out, kill it. If I can get a sword, I can probably handle a few more."

Bad plan, thought Sleet. "No!"

"Night is falling. Do you not feel the poison coursing through your cold veins?"

"I'm a farmer, not a fighter!"

"You are a coward," spat the deer. But he did not leave the cover of the bush.

Sleet called on the patience inherent to his species. He wished he could plug his ears. The screams of the dying were fraying his nerves, but he needed all his senses.

By nightfall, Sleet was almost certain there was only one raptor between him and the safety of the forest. Now it was just a question of timing.

He turned to check that the buck was ready to move. A sudden flash cast flickering shadows before he could say anything.

The buck stood. Sleet cursed. Fire, to burn the bodies, or probably, any living slaves that had resisted during the initial massacre.

Sleet reached for the leash. No longer there. He slapped the deer's arm and motioned for him to follow.

They crept out of the ferns and made for the nearest tree. It was bigger in diameter than most of the camp's tents.

Two raptors walked from behind the tree. Sleet's heart skipped a beat. The two warriors were not looking at him. They were heading towards the pyre and scent of burning fur.

Sleet and the deer ran silently through the dark. Ambient noise of the slaughter faded. Sleet slowed them when they came to edge of the old growth forest.

He did not know why, but he felt the urge to distance himself from what had happened in the camp. He ran his claws through his feathers, trying to clear his mind.

"I'm a farmer, you know," he said to the buck.

"So you've said."

"I'm just saying... back there...," Sleet slowed to a walk. "I'm not a warrior."

"No. You're not. None of you are. 'Killers' and 'thieves' are better terms."

That stung, but there was no brushing off the fact that the buck had witnessed the execution of so many of his kind.

"Can you find your way to your lands, from the city with the hall?"

"Yes."

Sleet stopped. He double checked that they were not followed.

Sleet took off his boots and vest. He passed them to the buck. It felt like a hollow gesture, but what else could he do?

The deer looked at the clothes. "Thanks," he said without affection.

The deer dressed, and they walked on until Sleet spotted the black silhouette of the dead city.

"Here," said Sleet. He handed the deer his knife, handle first. "The city is straight ahead. See it?"

"Yes." The deer tucked the knife into the waistband of the wrap he fashioned from sleet's vest.

Sleet looked at the dead city. "Um... could I have that antidote now?"

The buck snorted. "You don't need it."

For a moment Sleet tensed, thinking the buck was about to attack him. But the buck just walked past.

"You're not poisoned. That was just a coastal herb you ate."

The wave of anger and relief that washed over him was dizzying. When the buck was out of sight Sleet walked off the trail and let himself collapse into a bed of soft detritus of the forest floor.