Chapter 22

Razar stood at the mouth of the cave his back stiff.  A low growl rolled back toward the travelers.

Baran lifted his hand in warning.  Kyna pulled the bow from around her head and notched an arrow.

Inside the cave, Cade lay resting beside the fire.

“Your people come,” the shifter said and stood.  “Your hound even now stands at the entrance.”

Cade stood amazed again at how quickly his wounds healed.  “You stay here,” he commanded.  “I will greet them.”

The shifter’s green eyes narrowed.  “The hound will not enter the cave because I am here.”

Cade shook his head and looked at the beautiful red head.  “Razar is a Wardex war hound.  He is trained to work as an extension of my will in battle.  He will never accept the presence of a dark race in my company.  He would never lead my people into a cave housing a potential enemy.”

“I saved your life,” the shifter hissed.

Cade shrugged, the easy motion rippling the muscles in his large shoulders.  “It does not change what you are.”

The shifter walked to the opposite side of the cave.  “Humans are arrogant.  It is a pity your animals are trained in it.”

Cade was not going to argue.  Time was running out.  Razar standing at the mouth of the cave meant one thing.  Some of his people were near and Razar was leading the way.  They would see the hound’s uneasiness and approach the cave defensively looking for enemies.  He did not wish the shifter killed before the Alai could question her.

He looked down at his ragged clothing, turned and walked back toward the fire and retrieved his fur cape, loosely hanging it around his shoulders.

He watched the shifter.  Anger burned in her bright green eyes.  He sighed.  “Do not leave this cave shifter.  Your life depends upon it.”

She stared.

Cade strode from the cave.  “Razar, to me!”

The hound immediately came to Cade’s side.  “I am here!”  Cade bellowed.

At once Baran and Kyna broke through the underbrush.  Baran’s sword still upon his back.  But, his protective posture toward Kyna spoke awareness of possible danger.

Cade lifted his hand.  “All is well.”

Baran took in every inch of Cade’s appearance in the several steps it took to reach his side.  He noted the shredded clothing, the blood stains, and the weariness in Cade’s eyes.

“You are injured,” Baran said, sounding a little too gruff even to his own ears.

“I was,” Cade said clasping forearms with his father in the warrior way of their people.  “But I am almost healed.”

Cade’s  eyes dropped to Kyna waiting patiently by their father’s side.

She shouldered the bow and flung herself into Cade’s arms burying her face in his muscled chest.  “I was so worried for you brother.  Thank the Just Creator you are alive and well!”

Cade allowed Kyna’s embrace to linger.  It was so good to be with family again and feel arms of affection and eyes of love.

Razar growled low.

Cade looked toward the entrance of the cave.  “We have much to discuss.”

Baran clapped Cade on the back making him flinch.  “And a good story or two to share I am sure.  We will have time.  The others are at least half a day behind.  They bring horses and supplies.”

Cade cut his father off, “I travel with a shifter.”

Baran’s blue eyes narrowed, his body tensed.

Kyna gasped.  “No, Cade.”

Cade looked directly at his father.  “This shifter speaks of prophecy Father.  She talks of witches and war.”

Baran growled.  “You know the penalty for harboring a dark race boy.  You can not violate the very laws we were created to protect.  Shifters are deceitful, they speak anything to gain access to a city or settlement.  In the end it is always the same, the city is dead. ”

Cade nodded.  “This shifter saved my life against a flock of gargon in this very spot not two days ago.”

“Gargon?” Kyna gasped.  “Surely Cade you are mistaken!  The gargon have not been seen on this side of the Gray Mountains since before the last wars.”

Cade cocked a dark brow at his father.  “I have seen many things that should not be, yet are.  Will you hear me Captain?”

Baran looked from Kyna to Cade.  “Speak it.”

Before Cade could begin, the air beside him shimmered.

Razar lunged and Baran pulled the great sword off his back in one swift motion.  The Shifter waited until Razar passed then materialized beside Cade.

“Hold!”  Cade commanded, his voice rocketing off the trees causing the birds nesting in the canopy to fly away.

Razar crouched low to the ground baring his teeth.

Baran’s sword stopped mid flight.

Kyna stared at the red haired woman mouth agape.  The shifter carried her humanity like royal garments.  Her skin was perfect porcelain, unmarred by pox or childhood diseases.  Her hair was flame red and gently brushed her lower back.  Her garments though plain were made of fine wool and linen.  And the color seemed to change, often shifting hues so the dress became a part of the environment around it.

“I told you to stay in the cave,” Cade bit.

“No human commands me,” the shifter said reciprocating Kyna’s keen interest.

“You would do well to trust the hound in this Cade and slay the shifter now.”  Baran bit not lowering his sword.

 Razar’s eyes never left the shifter.

“To the cave,” Cade commanded.

  Razar did not obey.

“Now.  Obey me Razar,” Cade said softly.

Razar backed away from the shifter, hair bristling a low throaty growl echoing in his throat.

Cade sighed.  “This is the shifter of whom I spoke Father.”

Baran’s eyes narrowed as he took in every nuance of her appearance.  “Why is it you appear as a beautiful woman?”

The shifter lifted a perfectly formed red brow.  “Would you have me appear as an ugly one?  Would it make you less afraid?”

“It would make me less suspicious,” Baran bit.

“What is your name?” Kyna asked.

The shifter turned her sky blue eyes on the young woman.  “You are the first human to ever ask me my name.”

“A name doesn’t matter,” Cade interjected.  “Information is the only reason you are here.  I wish the Alai to speak with this shifter Father.”

Baran shook his head.  “They will not meet with her.  For once she sees them, she can replicate herself into one of them.  They will not risk their families or the council for one such as that.”

“The human voice can not formulate the sounds of my name,” the shifter said to Kyna ignoring Cade and Baran.  “But you may call me Rainn.”

Kyna nodded grim faced.  “I am Kyna.  Sister to Cade and Loghan, daughter to our clan leader Baran Wardex.  Thank you Rainn for saving my brother’s life.  But know this, if you intend to harm him or any of my people, I will kill you.  And if for some reason I fail, then my family will avenge me.”

Rainn inclined her head toward Kyna.

“Do not become overly friendly with this shifter daughter,” Baran warned.  “She is a dark race and will in all likely hood not leave this wood alive.”

Rainn smiled, a soft serene lift of the corners of her strawberry mouth, but her eyes held steel.

Kyna ignored her father.  “I have heard there are goodly shifters among your race.”

“Yes,” Rainn said.

“Are you one of them?” Kyna quizzed.

Rainn looked at Cade, then to Baran before giving her attention once again to Kyna.  “There is evil in me Kyna Wardex.  Don’t ever believe otherwise.  There is evil in every shifter.  The difference between shifters of the light and shifters of the dark can not be so easily put into classes of good or evil.  There are those among my race who fight the evil, who resist it.  They are born with an innate ability to harness the evil and in some very rare cases expunge it from their existence.  I have the ability to harness it and subdue it within my own being.  Had I been born without it, I would even now stand at my brother’s side leading the dark races in their bid to come across the Gray Mountains and destroy all humans.”

Kyna’s eyes widened.  “Loghan.”

Baran sheathed his sword slowly.  “Yes, yes I think they must.”

Chapter 23

Mikota ran up the cold stone stairs on dirty bare feet, ankles flashing in the moonlight.  A long filthy braid slapped against her back expelling the dirt and grime from her too small dress.  Her breath puffed in the cold night air.  Fear, metallic and hot, filled her mouth.

“Where is that little whore?” bellowed a too familiar voice.  “Find her and bring her to me!”

She knew it was useless to run.  There was no escaping her fate.  How many children went before her?  How many ran and escaped?  None, not one.  Ever.  She reached the top of the crude stairs and threw open the wooden door to the parapets.  The moon was high and bright.  A just tribute to her last night alive, she thought running headlong toward the side of the tower.

Her small feet smacked the hard stones as she counted the last steps in silence.  Time slowed to a trickle and scenes of her life flashed in her mind.

The memory of being in the slave pens with the other children.  Watching everyday as one or more of them died from hunger or exposure.  She was given just enough sustenance to survive, the auctioneer believing her unique purple eyes would gain him extra coin.

He was right of course.  A few extra coins landed her in what other slaves considered a fairly comfortable position.  Coming to this castle and slaving every day of her life until she was old enough to start breeding for the master.  Believing if she worked hard enough, stayed small enough, bound her growing breasts hard enough, she would escape his amorous attention.

            Watching as the other slave girls were taken to the master to be used and then given to his men.  Breeding was not easy on the slaves.  Only the strongest slave produced two children before death claimed her.  Mikota was strong of will but her body petite and small.  Never would she survive baring the child of the master or any of his dark knights. 

            “Mikota!”  The voice yelled again only a few steps behind her.

            She ran to the edge of the tower and without stopping flung herself from an opening the archers used to lob death at the enemy.

            Finally she would rest.  She would be free of this world and all the pain of life.  She smiled.

            A thick hand grabbed her braid roughly and hauled her from mid air back onto the hard stone parapet.  She fell and rolled hitting her head hard.

            “You filthy whore!”  Shouted the short stout beast master advancing on her.  He raised a meaty fist and struck Mikota in the stomach.

            All breath left her body.  She wanted to weep but tears long ago deserted her.  She tried to stand, to reach the side of the parapet again.  In her mind she begged for death though she did not utter a sound.  She tried to force her body to shut down.  Yet her heart pumped fast and strong.

            “You won’t deny the master his due girl,” the beast master roared.  “Not now that I have this!”

            The short bald haired man with rotted teeth held a white blood stained cloth in his fist.  He waived it in the air as he spoke.

            “How long have you had the flow?  I thought you cursed with your purple eyes and going on seventeen winters with no flow.  Barren, that is what I thought!  Cursed by the Woetress you be!  Yet you’ve hid the truth from my eyes and for that you will pay dearly!”  The beast master advanced on Mikota once again pulling on her thick braid until she was standing.  Her scalp throbbed.

            “Once the master is done with you, I will have you,” he sneered in her face.  “He will have you unmarked and trembling.  I will have you bleeding and begging.”

            Mikota tried to swallow past the lump of fear in her throat.  She slept in the barn with the rest of the slaves.  She knew the beast master’s tastes ran toward blood and pain.  Thinking about the screams, the grunts of his pleasure mixing with the smell of blood made her shiver.

            The beast master grimaced, a rotten smile.  “That’s right girl.  I saved something special just for you.  Once the master has his way, it will be your screams that fill the night.”

            Mikota sagged.  The beast master laughed hauling her up into his burly arms and carrying her back down the winding stone stairs toward her fate.