Chapter 36: Setting the Stage
Joseph slammed open the dormitory doors with Harrow following closely behind him with hurried steps, his barking words jolting the rest of the assembled pack in the hub to attention. “What the fuck is this about a meeting?” He stopped just shy of them, a pointed glare meeting all that seemed to be mystified by the reason of their gathering. The Atmo were in the baths with him when the news was delivered, so Joseph told them to stay put until he had figured out what was going on, much to Violet’s dismay.
Jax broke the concentration of the group first with a tilted head and curious expression as he inspected the human. “Why are you wet?”
Joseph maintained his scowl and pointed a thumb at Harrow. “Your girlfriend caught me in the shower to tell me what was going on.”
“Closer than i expected.” She chipped in with an oddly pleased smile and excitement that belonged nowhere near the conversation that should be taking place.
“You shut up.” He pointed sternly and levelled his voice to be authoritative, though the blush did little to solidify his attempted display. Harrow, sensing that he was more flustered than upset, raised her paws in surrender but still managed to look overly amused with the result of her proclamation.
“Then i believe the disparity has been corrected.” Jax nodded sagely.
Joseph spun and repeated the aggressive poke in the male’s direction. “Not the time, Jax.”
Satisfied no one else would comment on the matter, he shifted his focus back to the pack after ensuring his scowl told the two that he would chew them out for this later. “I need details. All i know is we have an enemy force demanding a meeting.” Several of them opened their mouths to contribute, but surprisingly, it was Nalah who spoke first.
“We were approached and told to send yourself as well as one translator to meet them. Atrox claimed that they would be waiting about half way between the den and the gate. Twenty-six members have surrounded the building and are ready to force their way in unless we comply.” She explained, her posture had deflated upon his arrival but she saw it fit to step forward when she addressed him.
Joseph felt the pained expression flicker across his face as the words still rang fresh in his ears. With a quick breath to steady his mind, he drew himself towards the matter at hand. “Where is he now?”
Nalah shook her head. “He left as soon as the message was delivered, it seems.”
Joseph raised a brow, glancing between everyone and was met with Sahari giving a confirming gesture. He chewed his cheek as he mulled over the meaning of his visit. “The message being; talk to us or die?”
“That is the implication, Grand Hunter.” She confirmed with a conflicted smile. “I will accompany you as translator due to the sensitive nature of the matter. Huntress Pan shall maintain the den in your absence.” She gave a curt nod to Pan, the latter seeming incensed by being voluntold to stay behind but a worried glance at Joseph seemed enough for her to agree.
He raised a fist to his lip, the thumb bracing his chin as he thought. “Why would they threaten us for a meeting? We opened the channels for communication and offered a loose partnership, if not a trade relation. It’s four days on foot and they brought, supposedly, the whole pack.” He bit down on his finger. “Something’s up.”
He paced around the edges of the room, the Lilhuns seeming to understand that even attempting to talk to him would result in being ignored at the moment as his heavy footsteps echoed.
They saved three members of their pack, offered assistance as well as trade, and made it clear that they were happy to not bother them if they decided to keep to themselves. Atrox said they had twenty members, yet they come with twenty-six. It wasn’t impossible to wager that they had recruited six members, but to get here when they did they must have left as soon as they received the news of the den’s existence. If it’s the full pack, then they left their own home undefended. It was unlikely that they managed to gather enough members to keep a reasonable force behind, so it would be a safe bet to assume that they’re not here for a simple reason.
If it was purely to take the den, then there would be little point in warning them that they would do so. If it was to trade, then they wouldn’t threaten them at all, save for displaying why it would be a bad idea to start anything through sheer numbers. They’re not nomadic like Sahari’s group was, the settlement was described as having areas for specializations, nor are they likely to move during the winter due to the danger inherent on the planet.
Unless it was to move.
If they planned on moving, then it would make sense to work out the power dynamic between two packs. They might be here as a show of power to ensure that Joseph’s pack doesn’t get any ideas about doing anything to disturb them in future. Why?
Are they moving nearby? Possibly, but they could have sent a small diplomatic force to simply let them know that they would have neighbours. Are they seeking to use the base as a stay-over, a place to spend a few days while they stock up on their supplies? Again, maybe, but it’s a little heavy-handed to threaten them when simply asking would suffice. Why are they moving to begin with? Were they raided or subject to an animal attack? That would explain the edge and forceful manner of seeking his presence. Joseph’s pack could be under suspicion of being the culprits or the members weakened by the sudden exodus.
He needed more information, there was too many ‘maybes’. He paused when he tasted the blood his ruminating bite had drawn from the barely broken skin on his joint. He had someone who’s entire hobby was snooping.
He shot a glance towards the grey Lilhun, the mischief-maker noticing his gaze and tilting her head in curiosity. “Tel, can i talk to you over here for a second?”
Tel seemed skeptical but crossed the room to join him as he walked out of conversational range of the rest. Nalah was about to accompany her, presumably as a translator, but was stopped by a soft shake of Sahari’s head. “I’m not in trouble, am i? Can i request my punishment?” She gained a flirtatious but quiet tone and adopted her leaning trademark of ‘paws behind the back and tail spinning figure eights’ that she always does when she’s screwing around with him.
Joseph subdued her enthusiasm with an austere gaze and whispered words. “I have a job for you. I don’t know if my random suspicions are right, but if they are, you’re the only one i can ask.”
Her tail slowed to a stop as she appraised him, her posture rising from its forward incline while she spoke with her own tone devoid of joy. “I doubt a cook could assist you at the moment.”
“I need information.” He replied dryly. “I need you.”
Her expression slipped to a blank look of shock for a while, the delay in response of any description drawing worry from him. He was about speak again when she broke into a predatory smile that made his hair stand on end. She leaned in close to whisper into his ear. “I thought you’d never ask, Grand Hunter.”
He exhaled warily, ignoring the proximity and warmth in his ear as he maintained the same hushed volume. “Can you sneak out and get me whatever info you can on their numbers, positions, and level of armament. We need to know how far up shit’s creek we are before we make any rash decisions.”
She shifted back to a neutral visage, looking at him without shifting from her place next to his cheek, her tone chilled as the yellow iris illuminated part of his vision with an almost machined stillness. “Am I to eliminate any?”
His face hardened as he averted his eyes. He had to remind himself that these weren’t simply the people he’s grown to care for; they were soldiers. Killing was a mark of their occupation and, from what little he knew of their respective backgrounds, a part of their life since the Union got involved. He forced a heavy exhale to steel his resolve. “No, not unless they make the first move and you can do it without getting hurt. I’m not sure why they’re here yet, so I'll go for their meeting to buy you some time. Hopefully, I’m just being overly cautious and it’s mostly just an uncomfortable trade expedition.”
She picked up on his trepidation and returned her comment with calm certainty. “But you don’t think so.”
“Nope.” He relented, observing the blizzard outside. “They’re here in a storm and instead of asking me to shelter them for a bit, they threaten us. I’m hopeful, not stupid.” He returned his regard to Tel, the thankfulness that she seemed to be as dangerous as he suspected at odds with the wish that she wasn’t. He hated to have to throw his own into danger like this, but he needed someone to do this. “We need as much to work off of as possible and you’re the only person here who could do it without getting caught.”
Tel held his gaze a while longer before nodding sharply with a soft smile and pivoting to face away, a distorted grin of anticipation flicking upon her face as she rolled her shoulders. “And when i return with this information, how shall i deliver it? I assume you wish not of me merely strolling up to pass you parchment.”
Joseph thought for a moment before the howls of dying wind caused an idea to spark across his face, swiftly followed by a satisfactory smirk. “Ready for a crash course on whistling?”
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“Are you sure about this?” Atrox asked her, the concern on his voice not matching the excitement on his face. It seemed that he was almost expecting things to go horribly wrong and it was all he could do to not openly lament his lack of supplies in which to memorialize the result.
Mi’low took another look to ensure that the pack had heeded her instructions. Four guards stood far enough away that they almost vanished into the snow that populated the slow moving air and obscured anything more than a few dozen paces away. Each of them was given what little metal armour and weapons they had created, consisting of a chest piece and various blades. It was a hint that the rest would be similarly armed and would strengthen their position in this upcoming farce. The spacing between each guard was such to ensure that the assertion of their numbers would seem true, them standing in a wide semicircle that would complete an encirclement of the building were she to have the forces to dedicate to it. It all was meticulously planned to give the impression that they held numbers far greater than they actually had access to.
In actuality, the four standing behind Atrox and herself were the only able bodies at the moment, the rest of the pack taking shelter behind the broad and tall walls that bordered the meadow to recuperate from the hurried pace they had set in wake of the snow.
They were exhausted from the march and the numerous dealings with their wagon being caught in downfall and roots throughout the forest. It was little more than a sled at present, the wheels having long since given way to the abuse and the effort to pull it the rest of the way tiring all but those who could don their limited supply of iron equipment. Mi’low herself wore just her simple leathers, the quality lacking as it was made by those who only read about the processes, but it was sufficient to stave off the cold long enough for her deception to be displayed with modesty. She gave Atrox a sharp nod.
“We are dealing with an alien as well as a superior force on their own territory, should i falter this far into the execution, we would all perish where we stand. My choice of certainty was taken when the fire took our dens and our kin.”
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Atrox nodded in return, drawing his gaze towards the vague outline of the building that was barely visible through the precipitation. “It seems our request has been acquiesced.”
Mi’low followed the gesture, her eyes spotting a blond Lilhun she did not recognize and a biped wearing various colours on his body. Dark blue lower-wear and a deep red shirt with long sleeves that hid his pinkish hue. Black foot coverings failed to convey if he was a clawed beast but the uncovered paws suggested he held no such thing. The lack of weapons or armour on either of them spoke to either confidence or foolishness as they approached earshot. The biped spoke in his foreign tongue, the utterance chopped and level in cadence. The voice was swiftly followed by the blond one hailing her in a respectful tone.
“We greet those who grace us with their presence. Before you lay the Grand Hunter of this den as well as myself as a translator. He does not speak our language and as such we apologize for any inconvenience during this meeting that the delay in our responses may cause. For the purposes of this conversation, please feel it appropriate to ignore my attendance due to the necessity.” She proclaimed confidently.
Mi’low raised a paw to stop Atrox from returning the greeting as she noted the lack of a personal introduction. The one translating was the one that Atrox described as filtering his words the most, so she would need to read far more into the words in order to ascertain the true meanings behind them. She was far from inexperienced in such tasks, but it would tax her already strained concentration.
“Greetings. Forgive us for our impertinence, but we have an important matter to settle with the Grand Hunter of this territory. I am Mi’low, Grand Huntress of my pack and recognized by the church as an Aspect. Here by my side is Atrox; he will be standing in for the sake of balance during this congregation.” She lowered the arm that waved to the male and gave a pointed look to the blond one. “I fear your introduction was lacking pertinent information, low one. You did not claim his Aspect nor name yourself.”
The blond Lilhun gave a near imperceptible flinch as she bowed politely, presumably not expecting Mi’low to be privy to the nature of her leader. She spoke in the biped’s language, likely to keep him informed in the exchange. “Forgive me, Grand Huntress Mi’low. This being is Joseph, Essence of The Guardian.” She repeated the bow as she gestured to the herself. “I myself am called Nalah. I am but a Head of the pack.”
Mi’low noted the name but discarded the title, she would be here due to the requirement in communication, not to be consulted for her specialty. “Hmm. And whom recognized him as such? Surely you have not established a priesthood of home here.”
“No, Grand Huntress Mi’low. Our members have attributed him it in accordance to our experiences and beliefs. It is most unfortunate that we lack the facilities in which it to be formally recorded.”
Mi’low suppressed the brow that wished to raise as she noted the translated exchange seeming far shorter than the one they were having. Omitted information? Or was she merely paraphrasing the specifics? The Grand Huntress knew too little to mention it aloud. “It is a forgivable offence, worry not. In accordance with the teachings of The Great Hunt, i will confirm your claims as an intermediary for the church.”
The blond one recoiled slightly upon the statement, the mention of religious scrutiny faltering her translation before she resumed her duty with admirable composure displayed on her diplomatic smile. “It would be our pleasure to accommodate your inspection, though we do request an explanation for the forces you have levied against our den, should you see it fit to provide.”
Mi’low used the prepared answer, her nerves easing for a moment as the conversation continued upon its expected path. “I see not the reason to explain why i am prepared to deal with a possible imposter that leverages the Hunt Mother for his own petty displays of power, low one.”
“We believe it genuine, Grand Huntress Mi’low, and our apologies are to be extended for requesting outside of our purview. We are merely concerned to be approached in such number.” Nalah repeated the inquiry, much to Mi’low’s annoyance. It crossed her mind to press the issue of impudence, but she lacked the forces to make any impressive exhibit of the potential consequences, so she decided to mollify them to discourage further prodding.
“Fear not, should our inspection prove your claims correct, you need not worry incursion.”
The biped arched a brow and leaned his weight onto one leg, the translator keeping a polite facade despite the shared curiosity. “Pray tell us, what might this inspection include?”
Mi’low prepared herself for the most critical part of her act. She waved a hand dismissively to downplay the importance of the exchange and adopted an aloof persona. “Firstly, choose your weapon.”
Both parties of the biped’s den seemed confused. “Pardon?”
“Defend your kin, Guardian. Surely one carrying such title should understand such a simple request.” She allowed some of her tension to slip into the title, the words chilled just enough to display minor hostility instead of the nervous energy that fuelled it.
The biped narrowed his eyes and spoke with a tone that the blond one failed to portray. “Forgive us, Grand huntress Mi’low, but we fail to see how this would do more than injure during an otherwise polite conversation.”
The Grand Huntress forcibly hardened her expression, two of the closer guards readied their weapons in a planned display for the threat. “Either you obey us, or we remove you as heretics. The others of my kind will be consolidated into my pack for pedagogy while those insects will be disposed of.”
She felt a chill penetrate her as the blond finished relaying her words, the cold spilling from deeper than her bones, as if the marrow itself threatened to turn to ice within her. She stifled the shiver with a practised effort to maintain her stoic demeanour, the faux grin of a female befitting her station was worn to disguise the unnerve she experienced. She couldn’t help but notice the look of subdued elation on Atrox’s face. “I see you more willing to cooperate, Guardian. Rest assured, should you succeed in proving your mettle then we will trust you have tamed the beasts, as well as proceed with the inspection in a more intellectual manner. What say you of your arms?”
The biped barked a few words, the force of the unknown meaning cut through the light howling of the wind. “We choose to be unarmed.”
Mi’low relaxed, the gesture in line with her emotions, save for the curiosity. A secondary check confirmed that the alien held no visible weaponry, though that said nothing of venom nor corrosive bile. It would not do if she were to win this bout versus a truly unarmed opponent with a weapon, the pack would belittle her and usurp her command within the sun, thus she knew that her choice must reflect her status. She internally prayed that the altercation would be as seamless as it was promising to be, but she held onto the caution that got her to where she was. “A queer choice, though one i am inclined to accommodate. As show of faith, i will reciprocate your decision. We shall engage with no more than what is on our persons.”
The biped offered a small nod, his expression shifting to one of ease despite the lack of devices in which to bear. “The Grand Hunter requests the rules of engagement be listed.”
Mi’low barely caught the twitch of surprise that settled in her ear, instead shifting the effort into a disinterested incline of her jaw. “Rules?”
“Yes, Grand Huntress Mi’low. He inquires to the limitations placed upon the contestants during this conflict.”
“Hmm.” She used the opportunity to mentally check that everyone was where they needed to be in order to act should everything sour before the end. The alien placing regulation to their conflict could be either a boon or a bane depending on how he proposed them. She edged towards allowing the motion, since it may hold an exception she may leverage for herself. “Very well, we shall each impose a restraint in the name of balance. In light of the suddenness of this encounter, i will allow him the first restriction. What limitation does he hold for us?”
There was nary a pause as the translator spoke without consulting the biped. “Single combat. He wishes not to harm those whom are not directly involved, regardless of the outcome.”
“Of course,” Mi’low almost vibrated from the excited energy building within her. Everything was playing out perfectly! Assuming this pack be one of honour, an assertion that Atrox believes true, then this would ensure her pack’s safety as well as increase the likely hood she would gain new members in the event of her success. “I will test him myself and with no other. I will ensure none of our peoples are harmed by such conflict and guarantee their lives in the event he perishes. I suppose it is my turn to place a rule, no?”
The pair visibly relaxed once she was finished, caution replaced by mere unease. “Correct, Grand Huntress Mi’low. Our thanks for accepting the condition.” The blond one bowed deeply, the gesture of respect at odds with the casual nod afforded by her charge.
“Think nothing of it, low one. Merely the respect afforded to a fellow Grand Hunter.” Mi’low waved another paw, the action seeming to be more and more frequent in order to retain face at the slightly outlandish display. The blond one was certainly used to bending a knee to those above her. “We will limit the combat arena to this area. It would do neither of us any kindness should one simply run from the confrontation, no?”
The request was to ensure that he not run far enough to discover just how paltry her fighting force really was. He may find himself at a disadvantage with the threat of force, but all it would take is one slip of the act for this to turn deathly serious for her pack.
Surprisingly, the biped smiled once faced with his entrapment. “That is acceptable, Grand Huntress Mi’low. May we mark the perimeter? For clarity of course.”
Another twitch of surprise was suppressed under an uncaring mask. “I suppose that is acceptable. How do you wish to mark it?”
“If we may, we would like to have one of our members use spears to designate the region.”
A display of their might, or a chance to bring another fighter and claim it only fair they pit the best against her? Perhaps utilizing the weapons during their fight may be their plan. Of course, it may be to show their proficiency in the craft so as to sway her decisions. She internally frowned as she weighed the risks. “Send for them quickly, low one, my patience is not infinite.”
“Our deepest gratitude, Grand Huntress Mi’low. I will retrieve them myself. May i be accompanied by another to transport them?” The question rolled off her tongue innocently, causing Mi’low to falter openly for a moment as she considered the chance of them rushing her forces with their own by using this as an excuse. Quickly adjusting to her slip, she donned an irritated expression and sighed.
“As long as they vacate immediately, i see no issue.”
“Thank you, i will return in but a moment as i gather the materials.”
True to their word, and much to Mi’low relief, they returned with but a single Lilhun. The black-furred male carried many spears of unknown make, each in various states of completion and all looking as if they had been subject to fire, before swiftly impaling the ground in a square as he was directed by the biped. She couldn’t help but notice the large scar on his left arm and the way he turned his head slightly too much to look at things. The new male afforded her a respectful nod and a shockingly casual pat to the biped’s back as they exchanged some words in his language.
Once they had finished marking the area, the black one simply left, a perimeter of just larger than the height of three females lay before her. It was marked by four sides of spears, twenty for each barricade with some width between them. The biped stood at various points inside it before nodding to himself, seemingly satisfied by the arrangement. With a few words with his translator, he pointed to a few areas of interest that Mi’low could not determine any significance in as he spoke in what was undoubtedly an explanatory tone. She seemed as lost as Mi’low was initially, quickly catching whatever he was saying with understanding nods when he gestured to two opposite corners.
“Will we be utilizing timed rounds or will it be until one of you is unable to continue?” The blond one questioned. Mi’low narrowed her eyes in suspicion, quickly suppressing the genuine curiosity for faux indignation.
“We are not to delay any further than we have. You are to defend your den, biped, not play in front of it. We fight until the other is disabled or, should such an unfortunate event occur, dead.”
The expression of fear or hesitation that Mi’low expected to cross either of their faces was instead portrayed as a grim resignation, as if told that a distant acquaintance had passed over moon. The two shared some short conversation that confused the Grand Huntress as the translator seemed reticent when compared to the biped’s placid acceptance and hint of incredulity. “We understand and accept the conditions, though we do wish to be informed as to what would happen to our inspection should you perish.”
Mi’low cycled a breath, the question one that she herself was not sure the answer of. She was not foolish enough to assume it an improbability. Determined to maintain the facade to accomplish her goals, she chose in the moment. “Then our pack will simply leave for our dens, their duty fulfilled. Atrox here will inform them of the result.” She raised an arm to her stoic audience, the male managing to maintain his composure surprisingly well, despite the promise of a sudden promotion in the event of her demise. “He will have some questions and small tests of lesser nature to subject you to, but it will not be as burdensome.”
The biped nodded, satisfied with the answer as he entered the square and occupied a corner with a loose gesture to the opposite. “Please take your corner. When you are ready to begin, advance towards the centre and touch your knuckles to his.”
She did as instructed, though lingering so as to not betray the interest she had in the odd ritual. “What meaning does the action hold?”
The translator responded with a sullen smile. “It is to show your opponent respect and to signify the start of the engagement. Once you have done so, it is expected you retreat a few paces outside of range to begin proper.”
She nodded. A warrior race then? This was slightly worse than she expected when she heard him the size of a female yet lacking talons or the like. He was still a fair bit taller than her, perhaps a head or more, but she had been undergoing advanced close quarters training for most of her second year, so her diminutive stature had long since been a detriment for her in combat.
She sized him up more carefully now that he was within the confines of the arena, the falling snow taking pity upon them and stilling the wind without decreasing the obscurantism beyond the spears. She quickly identified several points in which to strike, his thighs and back seeming to be the least protected and likely holding vitals in which to pierce. The scars along his right eye and cheek suggested he would have increased caution regarding that area, perfect for distractions while she prepared alternate attacks. She flexed her toes, the claws extending to their fullest to grip the ground as she rolled her knuckles to ensure the stiffness from the mild dehydration did not harm her ability to use them. Feeling that they would perform sufficiently, she copied the male when he approached the centre, his arm extending in the explained gesture as the other laid slack to his side.
She felt anger when she noticed his pitying expression, her risking of life and limb being a mere unfortunate display for him. She feared that he would not perform to a standard that her pack would respect, rendering this entire plan moot. Leaning in to tap her fist into his, she decided to leverage the warning Atrox had given her as they separated to their agreed upon distance and took up their stances.
“The purple insect.” The biped stiffened when the hesitant translation was given. “I shall see its blades upon my mantle should i win, no?”
The biped changed from a meagre alien to that of a predator of incredible hunger. His posture, once relaxed and loose, now lowered with fists held near his jaw and fire burning in the pupils peering over the knuckles. Mi’low struggled to fight the ice forming in her veins and the burning cold of her lungs filling with crystallized moisture. Her muscles screamed in agony as she willed them to move under the pressure exerted upon her. She suppressed the feeling of tendrils of mercury that seemed to crawl up her legs to hold her in place and the instinctual urge to flee. She had been in life or death combat before, the sensations she experienced now reminiscent of the encounters of old. Before, she would recall them as a chill that flowed through her as adrenaline coursed through her veins and training took hold to barely keep her alive, the warmth of battle scorching her nerves as she fought.
This? This instilled a worry within her she was not ready for. She remembered Atrox describing the feeling as if the Void itself was gazing at him, though not interested in grasping at his life. She now knew the distinction of being near the Void and being a target of it. She swallowed with a slightly manic smile spreading across her face, a life of piety culminating in pining for an answer that her recognition in the eyes of the church failed to deliver being dawned upon her through sheer frigid fury like oceans of needles piercing her skin in unison.
He exploded forward with naught but elimination in his action, each step powered by his misshapen appendages that slammed into the ground with abandon.
Mi’low readied the counter, exhilaration coursing through her synapses as adrenaline injected itself throughout her. She extended her claws and coiled her muscles to their utmost in a new fight for her survival. She laughed in the face of death before, but now she laughed for the audience. Years of playwrights and directions had tuned her to the art of theatre, each moment but a carefully crafted spectacle to be woven into a story that she now directed. The lives of her pack sat resting upon the claws of battle and the efficacy of her acting. She only prayed that each piece would play their part to her hidden script.
The grandest of her performances had begun.