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Chapter 17

B'arthon looked over the remnants of the battlefield and didn't like what he saw. Dek'thul Stood at his side, silently overlooking what was quickly becoming a temporary camp to treat the salvageable injured. The young Lord fumed. This was a tremendous waste of resources.

Turning to the hunting chief, the much smaller argu'n's voice took on a dangerous edge. "You weren't supposed to engage! How did you let things get so far out of hand! And how'd you lose so completely! You should have at least taken a sizable chunk of their army with you!"

Dek'thul frowned. "They didn't give us much choice. We found what we thought was the tail end of their caravan and chased it to offer some light harassment, as you instructed. Turns out, it was a trap. Their workers lay hidden behind the ridge with those new ranged weapons we'd heard about from the few who'd returned to us from the outpost last winter. Then S'haar herself led another charge to box us in. With no way to push forward or retreat, they simply rained down those tiny spears to deadly effect. We stood no chance."

B'arthon glared at the hunter a little longer. "And yet you seem to have gotten out without even a scratch. The only one in the entire army, I might add. How'd you pull that little miracle off?"

The much larger male shrugged. "I'm a hunter and sometimes assassin, not a warrior. Much like you, I don't lead from the front. Instead, I put an actual warrior familiar with leading argu'n into battle in charge of the actual assault while I lurked around in the shadows. Initially, I was hoping to catch some of their leadership unaware, but once I realized what was happening, I decided to stay and observe everything so I could relay that information to you. I figured that if a portion of the army was lost, at least you'd know everything that happened."

B'arthon bristled internally at the apparent dig at his own leadership style but kept his cool. Dek'thul was far too valuable of an asset to throw away, even for a failure as monumental as this one. Still, the noble would think twice about trusting him with command again.

Looking back over the remnants of the battle, the noble continued. "Well then, what knowledge can you give me? How this happened might be important, but other survivors could have told me that. Do you have anything else of value to share?"

Dek'thul nodded. "I can tell you where they went. At first, they seemed to double back, but after less than a mile, they turned west and climbed over a hill headed for a valley bordered by a mountain to the south. They have less than a half day's lead, and they're exhausted from the fight. You can probably still catch them if you'd like, though you'd want to leave as soon as possible."

B'arthon nodded before grunting in frustration. "At least this wasn't a total waste. We're going to have to be smart. We still outnumber them by a wide margin, but they still have those ranged weapons, and I don't want to fall for another trap like this last one."

The hunter held out one of the small iron spears for B'arthon to take. The shaft of this one was bent near the cutting edge. "They still have the weapons, but if I'm correct, they could recover only about half their ammunition in their rush to leave. The rest was lost or unusable and left behind. They won't be so eager to engage a force more than twice as large as the last one they just defeated, even if they spring a trap similar to the one before."

The noble growled. "I don't like winning battles through attrition. It's so... wasteful. Still, I suppose I should be glad for every advantage we have."

B'arthon's new second in command, a male named Hal'dek, walked up and bowed slightly, then waited for orders. He was competent, no more, but no less. He'd been the guard captain of one of the few villages that had actively resisted Lord A'ngles. He'd led an effective, if unimaginative, defense of the city walls that had delayed A'ngles enough that B'arthon'd promoted him to a minor Lord's status and insisted on his presence in his army. Then, the noble compensated the new Lord adequately to ensure his loyalty. Finally, B'arthon answered the male's unspoken question. "Give the survivors some tents and supplies. Those that are only lightly injured can tend to the rest. Assign two hunters to feed the camp and have the rest of our army prepare to move. Our chase is not yet over." Hal'dek nodded and walked off to see that the noble's orders were fulfilled.

Dek'thul grinned at B'arthon. "Quite the tame Arlack you've got there. Think he'll get the job done?"

The noble glared at Dek'thul as he answered. "Maybe, maybe not, but I doubt he'll lose a third of my army with so little to show for it!"

The hunter threw back his head and laughed while slapping B'arthon on the back. "You'd best hope not, or A'ngles may find himself a new successor!"

B'arthon glared at the hunter. "you realize if it comes to that, you'll likely find yourself out of his favor too, right?"

Dek'rhul's answering grin was as infuriating as his reply. "Oh, I doubt that, "young lord," there's always a need for a good hunter!"

As the hunter walked away with a hearty laugh, Vox'thon spoke up from a pouch at B'arthon's side. "Why do you keep hunting them? Why... Why can't we just let them leave? A small group like that isn't a threat to your father's new empire. So why can't you just let them run away and disappear?"

The noble sighed, looking at the small iron spear that should have been utterly ineffective given its size but managed to turn what should have been a victory into a heretofore unimaginable defeat. "We chase them because they won't stay small and are already a threat. No matter where they go, argu'n will flock to them. No matter what they do, stories will be told about them. Even if they die today, they'll remain the biggest threat to my father's empire tomorrow unless we can prove how flawed their ideals truly are."

B'arthon looked off into the distance, seeing a future that might never ever exist. "If given a chance, what my father is trying to achieve will be to villages what villages were to hunting tribes. Entire groups of our population will no longer face the risk of extinction at the appearance of a mated pair of wolgen, a deep freeze, or a group of raiders. Instead, the skills and resources of a greater whole can be brought to bear against these threats, rendering them insignificant in the face of our collective might!"

When Vox'thon spoke up, she sounded confused. "But isn't that what Jack is also trying to do? Didn't he already overcome all three of those threats?"

B'arthon smiled grimly and shook his head. "Our goals may be similar, but the foundation those goals are built on are not. Us argu'n are strong and prideful. Getting us to change our ways takes a leader with an iron will. Jack hopes to cohere our people into working toward a greater good by leading through example and hoping we'll simply choose to follow. That might work in times of peace with a leader as charismatic as himself or S'haar, but it'll fall apart when they face any real hardship!"

This time the AI's voice sounded challenging. "You mean like right now? Being chased across the countryside by a supirior force?"

B'arthon frowned and dropped the small iron spear into the dirt at his feet. "Yes, like now, when they're struggling to survive while running out of people and resources in hostile territory. They may have won a battle, but they'll lose the war."

Vox'thon made one last attempt. "But what if they don't lose? What if they win?"

B'arthon turned, seeing his army ready to continue the chase. "If they win, then I'm wrong, they're right, and our people will be better off for it. But they'll have to prove it to me in blood and steel before I'll trust my entire people's fates to an outsider's hands. That's how change is made, not by good intentions or kind words but by the hands of those with enough skill and determination to bend the world around us to our will. So I intend to either be said argu'n or see them win against everything I can bring against him."

-

S'haar walked beside Jack, who rode on in silence, his eyes fixed on a distant horizon. Several things might be bothering him, but she suspected she knew what weighed heaviest on his mind right now. "We can hold a ceremony later, you know."

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Jack's expression made it clear he was wondering if S'haar was reading his mind somehow before he answered. "But how can we hold a ceremony if we left his body behind? We should have brought him with us!"

S'haar shook her head. "We didn't have time, and besides, the shell that was Ger'ron isn't important. Everything that made him who he was is gone, and all that's left is fertilizer for the soil. Any ceremony is more for those of us he left behind. His shell is not a necessary part of that."

Jack looked into the distance again. "Maybe it's just the human in me, but that's hard for me to accept."

S'haar rested a hand on Jack's shoulder, and when he looked back again, she tightened her grip just a bit to try to pass some comfort along. "You know it's not your fault, right? He was a guard his whole life, and protecting his people is what he did, and he did it with pride. His final act, after a long life filled with many successes and failures, was an act of protection. He went out on his own terms, doing that which gave his life meaning. He'll be missed, but his story lives on through us and you."

Jack was straining his eyes in a failed attempt to keep the tears from flowing, and S'haar squeezed her human's shoulder again. His voice was barely above a whisper and shook slightly as he answered. "I hope...I can live up to the burden of his story."

During their short lunch break, Em'brel sat by her friend's side, listening to Sare'en's story. "I know it was nothing like being on the front lines of a battle, but until Lon'thul and Chal'ac showed up, I honestly thought I was going to die!"

The younger noble shook her head. "I don't blame you! From what I've seen and heard, Dek'thul is terrifying even when he's not trying to intimidate information from you! I'm surprised you didn't break down and cry!"

Sare'en looked ashamed as she looked down at her feet. "I probably would have. I think I was just still in shock and didn't have time to realize what was happening."

Em'brel sighed and looked at her hands, which the noble flexed as she tried to process her feelings about the day. "That's alright. If yesterday taught me anything, it's that being bloodthirsty is overrated. The only two things anyone wants to talk about are how amazing the battle went or Ger'ron's...his...loss. But I can't help but think how the two are intertwined. I get why we fought; we didn't have any choice, but every time I think about our victory, I think of a phrase Jack taught me a while back; 'necessary evil.'"

Sare'en was troubled by her friend's distress but couldn't think of anything to say or do to make it any better. Instead, the moment seemed to draw out into an uncomfortable silence until it was interrupted by a loud proclamation behind them. "There's the two cutest argu'n in the caravan! Jack wanted me to check on you and make sure you actually got something to eat. He said, 'They might not have much appetite after yesterday, but make sure they eat something, or they'll be collapsing before we stop for the evening!'"

With that, Lon'thul handed the girls some churlish meat to munch on. It was dried and tough, but Sare'en knew from experience it would fill her up for a few hours at least. As she tore off a mouthful, she saw Em'brel looking at her portion with disgust.

Sare'en started silently cheering her friend on while trying to think of some less than silent encouragement when Lon'thul sat down and pulled out a haunch of his own, and started munching on it.

Seeming to realize he wouldn't leave until his duty was fulfilled, Em'brel finally took a hesitant bite. Evidently, something in the pit of her stomach awoke to the sensation of food because the next bite was less uncertain, and the third seemed positively eager.

Sare'en was enjoying her own tasteless meal when something occurred to her. "Why didn't Jack come to check on us himself?"

Realizing her question could be taken in a way she hadn't meant, the herder girl frushed to explain. "Not that he's required to, but it seems like something he'd normally do. I didn't mean to say he was neglecting us or anything..."

Lon'thul laughed and waved off any further explanation. "Oh, he wanted to! But he and the rest of the camp's leadership needed to work a few things out. Where to go from here, what to do if B'arthon catches us again, oh and Lack'nul is officially taking over as the captain of the guard! Against his own protests, I might add. But when Fea'en mentioned that Ger'ron had already chosen Lack'nul as his eventual replacement, that silenced further protests!"

Em'brel looked thoughtful a moment before replying. "How's...how is Fea'en doing anyway? I mean, with Ger'ron being...gone and all..."

Lon'thul's jovial attitude sobered up as he thought of how to answer. "Well, she alternates between quiet and angry. The anger doesn't seem directed toward anyone in the caravan, but you can see it in her eyes." The hunter shuddered at some memory. "When Jack brought it up, she said, 'I'll mourn on my own time. Right now, there's work to be done!'"

He was silent another moment before continuing. "You can tell it's hard on her, but I think she's decided the best way to honor Ger'ron's memory is to continue his fight. She's like a momma wolgen, and this caravan is her cub." A bit of Lon'thul's grin returned, though it was slightly tainted with sadness. "I pity anyone stupid enough to threaten us if she's within arm's reach!"

Sare'en thought of her family's matron and couldn't help but giggle a little, even if it was half-hearted. "Yeah, she was the same when she lost her first partner. From what my parents told me, she became obsessed with fulfilling his life's ambition, and that's actually how she ended up becoming the craft master of the woodworkers. Apparently, she was also a lot scarier back then than she is now!"

Lon'thul looked at Sare'en in horror. "I'd find that hard to believe, but after recent events, I'll take your word for it!"

Everyone chuckled, but soon the mood sobered again. They ate on in silence, lost in their own thoughts or unwilling to intrude into the contemplations of others.

-

To'brel laughed nervously. "I can't believe you just let him go like that! You had your knife to his throat and everything!"

Chal'ac Shrugged and then finished swallowing her rations before answering. "As much as I hate to admit it, Lon'thul was right. We didn't have time to deal with his father. If what he'd told us was correct, we needed to move immediately, and if there was even the faintest chance Dek'thul managed to stop me from killing him in one quick strike, the ensuing battle would have taken far too much time."

The huntress sighed as she took another bite, talking around the morsel in her mouth. "Besides, I don't think the 'gifted' son was ready for a fight to the death with his father, and I didn't feel like holding his hand through the battle."

To'brel's eye ridges furrowed as he looked at Chal'ac. "Why do you do that? You know he didn't have anything to do with your banishment from the village, right?"

Chal'ac sighed and tilted her head back, eyes closed as if facing an unpleasant truth. "Yes, I know. He even tried to make it up to me before we left by allowing me to take him captive."

The younger male looked even more confused. "Then why...?"

Letting out her breath in exasperation, Chal'ac answered. "I don't know, alright? At first, I thought it was because of how easily everything came to him, but he works every bit as hard as everyone else. Maybe it's just hatred by association with his father, maybe I hate admitting he's a better hunter than me, or maybe I'm just a spiteful kovaack at heart, but every time I see that smug grin, I just want to tear it off his face with my bare claws! Logically I know there's no reason for my hatred, but I just can't help but want to be on the opposite side of the camp from him at all times!"

To'brel shrugged and shook his head. "Well, I don't suppose you need to justify how you feel so long as you don't take it out on him..." Then, seeing the expression on Chal'ac's face, he added, "too much."

Chal'ac reacted defensively. "I don't! Not as much as I used to, anyway... He's stopped trying to be my friend and just treats me like a hunter under his command. He gives me my orders for the day, then leaves me alone until I report back at the end of the day. Honestly, it's probably the best relationship I've ever had with a male other than my father."

The younger male couldn't let that one go. "What about me? I don't seem to bother you so much!"

Chal'ac rolled her eyes. "Yes, okay, and you. I don't know... It seems like most males are either condescending or trying to get into bed with me. You just treat me like a person. It's almost like you're just another female!"

To'brel couldn't help by feel annoyed being so casually disregarded. "Well, how do you know I'm not trying to get into your bed? Maybe I'm just tracking the long hunt!"

Judging by Chal'ac's laughter, his remark missed its target. "Oh, please! I know you well enough to know that if you ever end up in my bed, it'll be because I invited you, not the other way around!" She smiled to take some of the sting out of her words. "Don't feel bad about that, though. It's one of the reasons I actually like you. You're one of the few genuine males out here. You don't tell me what I want to hear. You just say it like it is, but you do it without judgment or condescension. That's a rare combination."

To'brel smiled wanly in defeat. "Well, it is hard to be condescending to someone when your first meeting involved them holding a knife against your throat. Who knew the female I thought was going to kill me instead ended up one of my best friends in this camp?"

Rather than responding with her usual sharp wit, Chal'ac was silent a moment before answering. "I never did apologize for that, did I? Here I am badmouthing inconsiderate males, and I'm doing the same thing... I guess... What I'm trying to say is I'm sorry. You were just a kid in over your head. You didn't deserve how cruel I was to you."

Suddenly uncomfortable, To'brel took a moment to respond. "Uh, yeah, don't worry about it. We all made mistakes back then, I turned a blind eye to my father's incompetence and vindictiveness, but the important thing is we're all trying to do better, to be better. So I'll forgive you if you're willing to help me be a better me. How's that sound?"

Chal'ac's grin definitely had a predatory edge to it this time. "You realize you basically just invited me to take a more active interest in your life, right? After all, helping you be a better you means I'll have to check in on you more often... I suppose I can set aside more time from my busy schedule to check in on you each day!"

To'brel wasn't sure if the huntress' response should make him feel happy, terrified, or both...