“I hate running. I really hate running. I wish I could hit running with this hammer. Gah, fuck you in particular, stupid tree!” Rex complained, tearing through underbrush and avoiding uneven ground as he did his best to reach the target location that the Event Horizon’s bridge crew had provided him. The forests of Mara, of course, cared not for his grousing, and continued to make his life miserable via trees, exposed roots, loose rocks, muddy ground, and all manner of annoyance that Cauthan hunters were forced to contend with day after day without the aid of a mothership in orbit or a suit of Aegis armor. “This is fake and gay, just like me. Fuck, now I’m actually angry!”
“That is good to hear, Private, but perhaps those thoughts are best kept… private?” Natori observed, propping his head up with three fingers as he leaned against the arm of his command chair and looked an apology at Qul’Roth and a handful of watchstanders.
“Says the Admiral who could have killed the comms at any time from his end? You were just waiting to make that pun, sir,” Rex asserted, not seeming to care much if others heard. “What’s going on with the Lt?”
“Lieutenant Winters is being sent to investigate another location where our missing hunter might be found. I am more than confident each of you will be able to handle whatever situations arise on your own.”
“And when do we lose the eye in the sky?” Rex demanded.
“Forty minutes,” Natori informed him, causing the Private to click his tongue against the roof of his mouth.
“Not like I can run that long anyway.”
“Sir, the pack has stopped! It’s difficult to discern more on account of all the wet ground and foliage but motion has definitely ceased,” Ensign Lee reported. Natori nodded and passed the information on to Rex as the crew member turned his chair back to face his monitors.
“You appear to have a fixed target now, Private. Make haste if you please.”
“Oh no, cause I was just taking a stroll up until now!” Rex heaved, pushing himself harder as he accepted the forest’s challenge if for no other reason than to have something to fight.
“Now now, Rex,” Natori scolded him with a light tone, ensuring their conversation remained just between the two of them for the moment. “That’s the sort of attitude that lost you a position in Delta.”
“Never liked them much anyway, sir,” Rex insisted bitterly, reminded of his manners. “Thanks for putting up with me.”
“Do your best to find this Cauthan, Private Rex. We have an unprecedented opportunity to ingratiate ourselves with the one powerful individual among their people who is most distrusting of us,” Natori explained wisely.
“With all due respect, Admiral, who gives a shit?” Rex demanded, punching a tree trunk as he barreled past just for good measure, chipping the bark and sending a few stray pieces to the forest floor. Instead of tearing into Rex or reprimanding him, Natori steepled his fingers in thought for a long moment, looking over at Qul’Roth as he recalled one of the tenants of the Ghaelen Order that he found rather compatible with much of human morality.
“Because, Private Rex, the true measure of a man, and of a people, is determined not when they are helpless, but when they are powerful. When we return to Earth, our treatment of this small, insignificant village will be immeasurably important. I believe that quite strongly.”
“Alright, alright,” the soldier gasped between breaths as he pushed himself harder. “But I feel the need to point out you would have never lasted a day in Delta either, sir.”
“Oh no, Private. On that point I believe we are in agreement,” Natori affirmed without any sort of clarification or qualification. The Admiral tapped his foot against the metal deck of the bridge, watching and waiting. He asked a question of the tiny dots that represented individual hyrven and their estimated position somewhere out in the Maran wilds.“Now what is it that you’re waiting for?”
----
In what some might have called a cruel twist of fate, and others a mild inconvenience, Natori and the rest of the Event Horizon passed beyond operational orbit shortly before Rex was able to make it to his destination. While the network of satellites in orbit allowed for some amount of continued data flow and communication, it fell to Rex to be the eyes on the ground.
“Hah, goddamn that smarts,” he complained, clutching at his side. “Looks like a bit of a Mexican standoff, sir.”
“Can you be more specific, Private?” Natori requested. “I doubt you mean to imply the local fauna have learned how to operate firearms?”
“Waste of time,” Rex declared instead, activating the video feed between his helmet and the bridge to spare himself from giving the Admiral a play by play. He was standing about twenty yards from the nearest hyrven, who had by that time more than registered his presence and were snarling and yipping at him. “Are you going to get mad at me if I shoot them, sir?”
“Yes, Private Rex.”
“Just a little bit?”
“Yes, Private Rex,” Natori repeated, unable to keep a smirk from his lips thanks to relief if nothing else. “Do you have a visual on our missing hunter?”
“No, but I know where he is,” Rex confirmed, slumping his shoulders and walking forward with tired steps. Another hyrven got in on the action, backing up its packmate and presenting a united front against the being that seemed to not care one iota that they were busy with a hunt. Rex scolded them as he approached utterly without fear. “Get out of my way if you know what’s good for you, damn dogs.”
“They are a bit more cat-like, wouldn’t you agree?” Natori opined, watching with utter fascination as two of his watchstanders whispered about how the day’s mission was ‘better than the old Attenborough films’.
“That’s not my job, Admiral!” Rex retorted, drawing his pistol. Natori was about to shout a reprimand, but it proved unnecessary as Rex fired directly above once. The crack of the gunshot echoed through the trees and caused several of the hyrven to literally jump into the air in shock. Many took off running, while a few of the brave ones retreated in confusion, barking and whining to one another as Rex strode forward to where a large, decaying tree trunk rested against a rocky protrusion in the middle of the forest. Against that moss-covered barrier rested a Cauthan who had seen better days. His fur and hunting leathers were caked in mud, clearly intentionally, and his eyes were wide and wild from adrenaline and lack of sleep. Before him on the ground rested the reason the hyrven pack had not simply devoured him, one of their own stabbed through the throat. Rex nodded with approval as he surveyed the scene silently, even more so when the Cauthan turned the spear on him.
“Begone, apparition! I will not go to Kel this day, not now!” he insisted, his throat dry from lack of water and his words scratchy and worn. The Beta Jumper laughed loudly and reached for his canteen, tossing it to the damp soil at the Cauthan’s bare feet. He noticed one of the hunter’s talons was chipped, perhaps a casualty of whatever struggle had brought him to his current predicament.
“I like you, man!” Rex laughed, making the connection between the Cauthan death god and the Aegis armor. It was common knowledge among the Event Horizon’s crew by that point that Winters was considered something of a deity among the locals. “But if you could never compare me to that stuck up Lt again I’d appreciate it. Drink, it’s just water. Then we’re going to get you out of here, Admiral’s orders. Damn language barrier. Whatever.”
The desire to get out of his helmet for a moment and wipe the sweat from his brow overrode the need to understand whatever the hunter was muttering about, so Rex indulged himself. The sight of a human face actually seemed to set the hunter at ease, and he watched as the Cauthan took his spear in one hand before reaching for the canteen. As with anything in the wilds, the huntsman examined the container carefully, turning it over in his palm and testing the metallic surface with his claws. Apparently satisfied that the vessel itself was not a threat, he took a knee so as to remain ready to respond to surrounding threats, spear cradled against his shoulder as he used both hands to unscrew the cap and tentatively sniff at the contents.
“Thank you,” he said as he realized it was water and nothing deceptive. Rex didn’t understand the words, but it was easy enough to nod in acknowledgment. After several sips, each of which he swished around in his mouth to soothe his parched palate, the hunter offered him his canteen back.
“So what happened?” Rex demanded, returning his effects and his helmet to their rightful place. “Sounds like you’ve got family worried about you.”
“Might I know your name first, savior?” the huntsman requested, using his spear to hobble over to the dead hyrven which he promptly began gutting and skinning.
“Rex is fine; definitely never call me savior,” the human insisted before opening up a line to the Event Horizon. “I got him, Admiral. His leg’s gimped, but we should be able to get back. Hey you, do you really need to be doing that? Rest of them are still out there.”
“My wife and daughters would likely insist otherwise, but coming home injured and empty handed would be worse than not coming home at all. You seem capable,” the Cauthan replied, not ceasing his quick and dirty work. The difference between him and Russell Winters was quite apparent. Rex scoffed.
“Yeah, don’t expect me to tell that to your daughters. Do what you will; it’s not like I have anything better to do,” the Jumper insisted, silently thankful for an extended period to catch his breath. The lactic acid that had built up in his legs was a mild annoyance. “So what happened to you?”
“I finally made a mistake, Rex. I was preparing to die. You are a welcome sight.”
“How old are you?”
“Thanks to you I might make it to my fortieth year. You’re sure Valta didn’t send you?”
“Don’t know who that is,” Rex said.
“The goddess of the hunt, and the lady I serve.”
“Sure that’s not your wife?”
“You are a human full of questions. I just assumed you were a god given your bulk.”
“Ha! Glad to hear it. But no, I’m mortal and a hell of a lot younger than you are, made more mistakes too from the sound of it. And if the mud on your fur is any indication you were getting ready to survive instead of die, so spare me and let’s get you home to your family.”
The hunter paused his work for the first time, adjusting his weight so as to lighten the burden on his twisted ankle. “You are a strange one, human, but you have a point. That doesn’t mean I would have survived.”
“Well today’s your lucky day then, I guess. You catch a root on your leg or something?”
“It’s rather shameful but that’s exactly what happened. The rains have been plentiful of late and the grounds are not as sturdy as they should be. I avoided the ravine but, well, you have seen the rest.”
“Yeah, do you really need to be doing that though?” Rex gestured towards the carcass, noticing that a few of the hyrven were still watching them intently from the cover of trees and underbrush.
“I do, my daughter is of age this year. Meylith willing, she will find a mate and her mother and I will be left to fend for ourselves.”
Rex listened to the sounds of the forest, contemplating a world to which he had almost no frame of reference. Natori eventually interrupted to inform him that Winters was enroute to his location. “So what, when you all get married you don’t visit home anymore?” he asked.
“Why wouldn’t we?” the hunter asked, more talkative now that the water was working its way through his body and the idea of conservation seemed less important thanks to the armored human watching over him. “She will still have her own duties when she is mated.”
“I get it,” Rex said without getting it at all. “Well just hurry up, would you? Don’t want to keep them waiting.”
“No, not at all,” the hunter agreed. “I am almost finished but I find myself in the unenviable position of asking you to-”
“I’ll carry it, it’s fine. Just don’t make me run,” Rex snapped, not sure why he was suddenly feeling agitated. He blamed the knowledge that Winters was on his way.
“Run? I doubt I’ll be able to run for a cycle or two!”
“Well you’re in good spirits suddenly.”
“I’m not being eaten alive, Rex. Of course I’m in good spirits. I may even see my dear Rena again, assuming she’s not too busy working leather.”
“Let’s stay focused on the here and now, old man,” Rex suggested, keeping his vigil with rifle in hand. “Not getting eaten alive is a good start.”
“Yes, no need to convince me,” the hunter sighed, pulling himself around to the other side of the hyrven to continue his field dressing. He winced in pain occasionally, but worked through it. Neither spoke again until the job was complete. “I am ready, Rex.”
“Alright, how do you want to do this? Can you walk with your spear or do you need me?”
“I should be alright with my spear if we move slowly, but they will not just let us leave,” the hunter worried, noticing that the hyrven still had not departed.
“Oh they will, just stay close to me,” Rex instructed with eager tension in his voice. The Jumper shouldered the well dressed kill with one hand, the hunter’s skill at his task preventing much blood or gore from getting on his armor. In the other hand he brandished his hammer, motioning for the hunter to walk just ahead of him. “Time to look them in the eyes and tell them you’re going home.”
The hyrven did not seem pleased about the situation, growling and snarling at the two of them as Rex used his HUD to point the way home. The hunter didn’t require much direction, however, innately pointing himself in the right direction as well. Each step of his left leg was assisted heavily by his spear, and they slowly made their way towards part of the circle of wild beasts that were none too happy at being denied a meal. When one of them barked loudly at the two elopers, Rex yelled right back. Another approached from a different angle, only to yelp and jump back as Rex’s hammer swung in a wide arc before burying itself into the ground right where the hyrven’s head had been a moment before.
“Look, either die or fuck off!” Rex exploded in frustration, though his companion found the situation quite humorous, no doubt a mixture of nerves and relief. The hyrven continued to posture and raise a ruckus, but Rex didn’t allow them an opening. It was only a matter of time before the less standoffish among the pack decided to approach and eat the guts and other refuse the hunter had left behind. After a tense few minutes the human and Cauthan had been allowed to pass, the sounds of the pack fading into the distance.
“Thank you, Rex, for my life.”
“You got a name or something?”
“Brythis.”
“Well I didn’t do it for you, Brythis. But you’re welcome. We should get you home to your family.”
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
-----
“Winters!” the rescued hunter called as the Omega Jumper came into view through the trees. Following Rex’s location of the missing Cauthan, he and Io had made a beeline for them, meeting up close to sundown. Though Brythis obviously recognized him, Russell had a bit of difficulty discerning just who was under all of the mud and grime. “I was just discussing the finer points of tracking chesko via their droppings with this strapping lad here.”
Io and her partner could not help but share a moment of amusement at Rex’s predicament. While they were not on close terms with every Cauthan in the village, even the hunters and craftsmen, they knew Brythis well enough. The hunter’s younger daughter was around Zolta’s age and worked alongside him at the temple of Tyrdus. Despite the public, friendly rivalry that existed among many in those respective guilds, apprenticeships between the two were equally common. The Cauthan himself was something of Ratha’s opposite, possessing a rather upbeat and sunny disposition after so many years of survival. Rex seemed to be at his wit’s end. “Can you take over?” he requested in exasperation.
“What’s wrong, Private Rex? Not interested in chesko droppings?” Winters wondered, allowing the missing ‘sir’ to lay by the wayside. “Brythis, have you been chatting him up this whole time?”
“Of course! I was about to die,” the Cauthan related in a voice still gravelly and worn from his ordeal. “And between the two of you I don’t think we’ll be having any problem with the beasts that are out and about.”
“Just drink up,” Winters insisted, tossing the hunter his own water supply before following it up with spare rations and a helping hand. Fenrir was not pleased to see the chesko jerky being handed over to someone that wasn’t him. Russell roughed up the fur between his ears. “And you stop being needy. We feed you all the time.”
“So you got a dog, a wife, and kids on the way? Where’s the white picket fence, sir? Didn’t see that one in the job description,” Rex joked.
“Thought you were tapping out, Private. Why don’t you give the locals a try, settle down yourself? Maybe you’ll marry into enough real estate for a fence if the walls aren’t enough for you,” Winters countered easily before turning to the hunter who was still hobbling along at his own merry pace. “You doing alright?”
“Oh yes, quite splendid now that I won’t be meeting Kel today. The ankle will heal with time, I’m sure.”
“Fancy a bit of human medical care?” Winters offered. Io pursed her lips thoughtfully, though if anyone was going to tell him he couldn’t appropriate Event Horizon personnel and equipment, it wasn’t her. “What do you think, Io?”
‘With the patient’s permission I don’t see why not. Just don’t leave Thantis out. He’d never forgive you.’
“Yes, I think I’ll take the priest’s opinion first,” the hunter mused. “But I’m not opposed. Just seems a bit much over a slip of the foot.”
“A slip that almost got you killed, apparently,” Winters reminded him. “Let’s just get back. We can worry about that later.”
“Yes, I suppose Ratha is likely feeling a bit down at this point,” Brythis acknowledged. “She already has so much on her mind and now she’s with cub.”
“Can’t think of another female or two who might be a bit more upset?” Russell asked sarcastically.
“Of course! But I already imagined their grief during the long night and I wish to reflect upon that no further.”
Russell frowned under his helmet, privately agreeing that if the Ursae had left him broken and dying, he would not have wanted to imagine Veera’s face at his funeral. “Then let’s not give anyone anymore reason to cry.”
-----
“Unless you’re here to tell me that grizzled idiot stumbled out of the woods just now, leave me be,” Ratha requested dourly. Antoth stood at the threshold of her private room, unmoving.
“I’m not, Ratha. But the human Lachlan just spoke to me. They found him… alive.” The former Guardian held his ground as Ratha glared daggers at him, face drawn with a plethora of negative emotions and a bit of relief. At least he imagined relief was there as well. “I did not order it. He heard a rumor and acted of his own accord.”
“So that’s how it is then?” the pregnant Huntress wondered, looking down at her table where she’d been spinning her knife, point down, for hours. A mug of cold tea, half finished, sat nearby.
“I thought you would be pleased.”
“And what will happen when the humans clothe us of their own accord, Antoth? Will they be doing that next after they begin to feed us? How long before our people are like that hyrven that nips at Veera’s heels? Can you call something like that a hyrven at all?” Ratha wondered, never bothering to look directly at him. Antoth exhaled patiently, walking past her and adding a small log to their fire. Ratha still refused to use human lanterns.
“Would you prefer another Sentaura?”
“Of course not! But I am taking care of her. We are taking care of her, as we always have. And we will do the same for his family if he doesn’t return. There is no place for someone like me in this new, human world.”
“Tell that to our cub if you insist on saying such things around me,” Antoth growled, taking a knee at her side. She glanced at him before returning to her cup.
“I will not grow angry with you for doing what you think is right for our people. That is your right as Priest of Seil. It does not mean I don’t worry for my own way of life. I wonder what will be left for us when food is plentiful, when cloaks craft themselves, and everything else that damn human seems to have at the tip of his clawless fingers,” Ratha complained. Antoth took her hand from her knee into his own, and she allowed it.
“The humans will not be here forever. There will come a time we will be alone and forced to rely only on ourselves again. I am just doing everything I can to prepare us for that day. Having one more hunter only helps,” he reasoned.
“I know,” she said. “But we’ve gone from one to three to however many of those furless nightmares feel like showing up on any given day. Need I remind you that the ones we have met are primarily trained for war?!”
“You mean the ones that have found the most common ground with our own people? Ratha…” Antoth shook his head and steeled himself, standing before her. “Veera is pregnant.”
A poignant silence fell between the two of them, punctuated only by the far off noise that heralded Rex and Russell’s arrival back at the western gate, just after darkness had fallen over the village. The auburn huntress collected her thoughts, scowling at him. “You’re not dumb enough to joke about that sort of thing, Antoth. Have you found the one who did it yet?”
“Winters did it, Ratha. I have requested every high priest convene tonight after we take our meals.”
“Call it off. You cannot honestly believe that, can you?” Ratha demanded of her husband. He replied just as sternly.
“You honestly believe any male would risk the wrath of the ursae slayer?” When Ratha did not have a reply or witty comeback, Antoth continued. “Spirit Io believes Veera will give birth to her own cubs. I do not claim to understand the workings of Meylith, but that is what was reported to me.”
“By who?” his wife demanded as the fire crackled lightly.
“Thantis and Gentia both felt I should know.”
“Then why is it necessary for us to meet about this? Nerazek, Staroth, and Alyra surely don’t have an interest in Veera’s private affairs, eternally strange as they are. Why do you have that look on your face, scarface? You know I hate that damn look.”
“I will need to speak at length with spirit Io, the human’s leader, and their healers, but if what I hear from them is favorable… it would be my intention to share this knowledge at the conclusion of the harvest festival. You and I both know that there will be unpaired females this year, Ratha.”
“You wouldn’t dare,” Ratha whispered, standing and trespassing as close into his personal space as possibly without bumping him with her belly. “The mutt is one thing, but you would whore our females to the humans?! Have you taken leave of every one of your senses? If you propose this I will motion that you be unseated! I may be your mate but I am also a Cauthan!”
Antoth’s face fell, but he matched Ratha’s gaze, allowing her threat to hang over them for some time as he collected his thoughts. He found it impossible to fault her or her anger. “I see.”
“That- that’s it? That’s all you have to say to me after what you just suggested? I see!?” She raised her voice at him, clawing the ground with a talon.
“You said it yourself, Ratha. I am bound by duty to consider all of our people. If you believe I have lost my mind… you may suggest to the priests that I be removed,” he allowed sadly.
“Think about what you’re saying-”
“I have thought about it!” Antoth finally lost his patience. “When have you ever known me to be rash and impatient, Ratha? Our people are barely hanging on. You expect me to do nothing when there is hope, no matter how small or ridiculous, that our young females might all be mated and fruitful? Or do you perhaps think I intend to force them to take human mates against their will?”
“Our people will survive as we always have! And I don’t know what to think anymore, scarface. This isn’t the world we were born into. Things are never going back,” Ratha lamented, grimacing as she contemplated admitting to any sort of weakness. “I fear for our cub, and I fear for my hunters. I want to go back to the way things were.”
“Even if we would all be dead?” Antoth whispered. Ratha shook her head and grabbed him by the arms.
“At least I knew where I belonged in that world, even if it wasn’t here.”
Antoth relented and held her closely. “If you truly believe it is for the best, I will say nothing. But the secret will not be kept, Ratha. Veera will grow just as big as you are now, and the questions will come all the same.”
“The gods must truly enjoy watching me suffer,” she laughed bitterly as the raucous noises of Brythis’ impromptu welcome home celebration made their way back to her temple. Ratha pressed her fingers against the top of her muzzle as though trying to ward off a headache. “The lost don’t come back. But I guess now they do and I need to go out there and act happy.”
“Who says you need to be happy about it?” Antoth wondered, cocking an almost sly grin at her. It would have been sly were he capable of such things, but she seemed to understand his meaning. Ratha collected her knife from the table and returned it to her side before poking him in the behind, making it clear that they were both leaving.
“I will think about what you intend before the council. We will see what they say. And if things go the way I suspect they will, you will arrange a meeting with the human chieftain where we will impress upon him exactly what they can and cannot take from us.” Ratha’s tone left no room for argument, but Antoth found himself in agreement.
“It will be done, Ratha. Now maybe don’t look like you’re going to kill him just to finish what the forest started?” he proposed with a low chuckle, pleasing to her ears.
“Where’s the fun in that?” Ratha demanded, waltzing out into the main area of her temple where she found Brythis surrounded by his compatriots, his family, and one of the other humans. This one seemed to have the good sense to keep his mouth shut, watching over proceedings from the doorway. His body language made it clear he didn’t particularly want to be there, but she didn’t pay him much heed. “You.”
“Huntress, you are a sight for sore eyes,” her fellow greeted her, looking rather worse for wear. He was still caked with mud and looked ready to pass out from exhaustion, but he’d brought back a hyrven, which she noted approvingly. She enjoyed how quickly the celebration snuffed itself out under her gaze, even despite her pregnancy.
“Good kill, Brythis. Be more careful next time.”
-----
“Welcome, everyone. Gentia, thank you for the use of your temple this evening,” Antoth offered as he, Ratha, and the other high priests congregated later that evening. Thantis, of course, had brought tea which they sipped appreciatively. Ratha had shown annoyance at having been offered a special brew for the health of expecting mothers, but consumed it nevertheless with muttered thanks.
“Are you ever going to get yourself a temple, Antoth?” Nerazek asked jovially.
“Are you and your craftsmen finished rebuilding everything we lost?” Antoth countered politely. When the high priest of Tyrdus replied in the negative, he nodded softly. “I am more than fine with an ursae skull. The needs of our people are greater than mine.”
“There’s always a bed for you in the barracks if Ratha kicks you out!” Staroth added, earning a small laugh from Gentia and Alyra. “So what news, Antoth? Last time you asked us all together it was about the treaty with the humans. Has something happened?”
“Something has happened, Staroth, but it does not concern the other humans for now,” Antoth explained cryptically, causing Alyra to lean forward and adjust her tortoiseshell glasses. Since receiving them from Alice she’d not been seen without them by anyone in the village.
“Other humans? I thought maybe that thick one got up to some trouble. What has Winters gotten himself mixed up in now?” the Guardian asked, something like anticipation in his voice. If nothing else, Veera’s mate was always good for a story or two.
“What indeed,” the high priest mused, glancing at Ratha. She rolled her eyes and motioned for him to get on with it. “Gentia and Thantis are already aware of this, but Veera is pregnant. And before you all ask about how I intend to punish the offender… the human healers and spirit Io all have reason to believe that Winters is the father.”
“Or that there is no father,” Thantis supplied, rounding out the potential explanations.
“And it’s twins, by the way,” Gentia added as though she were making mention of the weather. “Count on the males to leave out the fun part.”
“You’re serious, Gentia?” Alyra gasped.
“Oh I’m quite serious!” the priestess of Meylith replied, laughing happily. “I performed the examination myself the day Thantis returned from his little expedition to Kel’s domain with the human vessel. Veera is most certainly pregnant.”
“And no one has come forward?” Staroth demanded seriously of Antoth.
“No, Staroth. As I said, I don’t believe anyone will. I know it’s difficult to believe, but I find it equally difficult to believe any male in the village would take that risk with so many available females, even if we don’t take into consideration the bond Veera and Winters share with one another.”
“Fair enough, but that female’s put on a lot of meat over the year,” Staroth pointed out appreciatively, causing collective groans from just about everyone assembled except Alyra.
“I simply must ask her how she does it,” the priestess of the Twins declared before Antoth slammed his fist into his palm to signal for order.
“Enough! If you want to train to be a soldier, Alyra, you serve the wrong gods. And Staroth, no, nevermind. You won’t listen to me anyway. At least you know better than anyone else what Winters can do to anyone who touches his mate the wrong way. On the subject of Veera’s cubs I am… cautiously choosing to believe that Meylith has blessed them, in agreement with the humans and spirit Io. That is why I have gathered you all here tonight. Veera’s pregnancy will not remain a secret for much longer, either because they will speak of it themselves or because nature will take its course. You all understand what will happen then. There will be talk. Questions will be asked of us. We will need to provide guidance, as is our duty.”
“Here it comes,” Ratha sighed, earning a glare from Antoth. “I enjoy you when you’re all angry like that. Just go on. What the leftovers do is none of my concern.”
“You are always such a ray of sunshine, my dear,” Gentia simpered, earning a glare from Ratha and complicated glance from Antoth that was stuck somewhere between thanks and annoyance at her poking the hornet’s nest. “So what is your proposal then, sun priest?”
“Every darn time,” the black-furred Cauthan huffed before clearing his throat, straightening his shoulders, and addressing his peers formally. “I propose to you all that we inform the village at large on the last evening of the harvest festival, once the year’s pairings have occurred. Furthermore, I propose that we encourage unmated females to pair with human males in the event they find themselves without a partner and do not believe they will be able to find one during their youth.”
The expressions on Thantis and Gentia’s faces made it clear that Antoth’s proposal was bold, even for them. Alyra was looking over the rim of her glasses at him as though he’d grown another head. Nerazek and Staroth remained stoic, with frowns furrowing their brows. Ratha, however, was smiling. “Told you.”
“Thank you for your support, Huntress,” Antoth growled. “I assume the rest of you object as well?”
“Reject outright may be a bit much, but what guarantee is there that any of the females in the village will experience the same result?” Alyra asked.
“There is no guarantee,” their leader admitted, shaking his head. “Even the humans are confused at this development. But perhaps I am overreacting?”
“The situation is difficult no matter how one looks at it,” Thantis acknowledged. “We have weathered losses like this before but recovery will take a generation or more.”
“And there will be plenty of pregnant or widowed mothers tending to the fields,” Gentia added before looking at the situation more shrewdly. “I believe Antoth’s course of action should be approved. A piece of vellum or parchment is one thing, mating bonds and children are quite another. The more human men who find themselves tied to our own females, the better.”
“That’s one word for it. Sounds like a disaster to me,” Ratha snapped. “You expect them all to behave like Winters? What’s stopping them from getting on that ship of theirs and just leaving once they’ve had their fun soiling our maidens?”
“Nothing,” Gentia admitted. “But there is even less that would prevent them from doing so currently, and if you would swallow your pride for a moment, Ratha, you would realize that the humans remaining here is our best hope of surviving what’s befallen this village.”
“At least I still have my pride!” the Huntress snapped right back. “Unlike you who seem ready to discard everything we are for scraps from their table!”
“Silence!” Antoth commanded, slamming his fist on the wooden bench he was seated upon. “Every time, I swear upon Seil. You forget yourself, Ratha. Do not think you are the sole defender of our people and our ways.”
“It sure feels that way more and more,” his mate countered, refusing to be cowed into silence. Gentia was more than capable of defending herself without Antoth’s aid, however.
“How many of your hunters are you willing to sacrifice upon the altar of the old ways, if that is what you choose to call them? How many scrolls have yellowed and faded over time or been lost? How many stories have been forgotten because those who knew them died before they could pass them on? The humans preserve even the most inconsequential of words with the press of a finger. If we could gain access to their technology our way of life would be preserved forever, or at least far beyond anything that we or our own cubs would be capable of. The bonds of Meylith are some of the oldest known tools of union and negotiation. If there are others like Veera and the humans give us more cubs as well, then so be it.”
“I don’t like this talk one bit,” Nerazek declared. “But I don’t like the idea of our young ones wasting away without family, love, or cubs. Human technology is one thing, Gentia, but we should not force the matter.”
“I never said we should,” the elder clarified. “I simply propose that if upon learning of Veera’s blessing a young female chooses to follow in her footsteps, she should be welcomed and supported so long as no males her age are suitable. It was rather easy to allow it of Veera, was it not? This will not be the same.”
“No, it will not,” Antoth agreed. “I must admit I did not even consider using such partnerships as leverage to secure us a more favorable position vis a vis the humans. It is… compelling, especially when one considers the weapons and armor at their disposal.”
“I remain opposed,” Ratha insisted in no uncertain terms. “But if the remainder of the council is in favor I will simply take bitter pleasure in the event I get to say ‘I told you so’.”
“I need some time to think on this,” Alyra spoke up, prompting Nerazek, Staroth, and Thantis to agree more or less immediately. Antoth was not displeased with the outcome.
“Gentia, how far along is Veera?”
“Less than a season, Antoth. I would say four cycles at most. It is approximately another four to the harvest festival. Those who are not looking will be unlikely to notice but there will not be much time afterward before she is unable to hide it even with loose clothing, assuming she even chooses to. Knowing her she will do just the opposite.”
“For once we are in agreement, Gentia,” Ratha snarked. “I don’t think you’re getting out of this, scarface.”
“That was not my intention,” he replied quietly before addressing the full congregation. “When the moons are next full, will that be enough time for you to make your deliberations?”
“I have no objections,” Staroth affirmed. The others soon followed. Antoth crossed his arms over his chest and nodded, glancing over at the doorway to the granary. He contented himself with the knowledge that the harvest, at least, was shaping up to be a fruitful one.
“Very well. We shall reconvene then. Until that time your discretion in this matter is appreciated. Go with the gods everyone, and may they guide us all. Selah.”