“First things first,” Maya said, moving with Khukri through the front gate. “Master will be here soon with security to take over; we’ve got overwhelming strength on our side. What we don’t have is time. Which ship is he on?”
Khukri shifted her eyes to the ocean, flinching at her first sight of the sunset over the water. The mist billowed overhead, catching some invisible lip and peeling away into the open sky. She’d forgotten how pretty it looked; it wasn’t something she appreciated back in the Othelan Republic. The sky was only for measuring how much longer she’d need to compete before food was assigned and sleep was ordered; a tool for usage, not art to be admired. “That one, second from the left. The Ambition.”
“How do you know the name?”
The paper crinkled in Khukri’s pouch, halfway to her fingers before she caught herself. This was her old pack; her friends, but right now she belonged to Master, and he wouldn’t want his plans exposed. “Master taught me to read a few words. I recognize the one from the boat.”
“That’s a strange word for him to choose. You’d think he’d pick more familiar ones.” Maya’s doubtful watch fell on Khukri, but their march toward the security building never faltered.
“He’s strange,” Khukri offered. “A lot of things he does make little sense to me. Perhaps it was in his mind from seeing it on that ship?”
Maya’s look softened as it drifted back to the buildings. “Perhaps, it’s a strange man that teaches a hunting slave any words at all. He’s been good to you, from the sounds of it.”
“He has,” Khukri said, eager to move past the deception. “He’s only taken me out hunting twice since he spends most of his days with his work. I think he bought me mostly to show off. I enjoy what time he has for me though, even if it’s difficult for him to understand the order.”
A curious look crossed Maya’s face, but it vanished as they stepped into the sturdy wooden building. Along the walls, a navy-cloaked woman slid from gaslamp to gaslamp, banishing the shadows as they prepared to hole up for the night. In the building’s centre, a large square desk surrounded a central pillar, leaving a gap between the two where another woman, a black cat wearing a navy cloak over a suit of scale armour, watched them.
The pack filed in, moving around the room and securing the building while Maya approached the cat and handed her a letter. “Hello Ma’am,” Maya started, lowering her head in respect. “We are property of Issac, representative of a superior supplier for the Direwood Syndicate. He’s invoking his right to search the Ambition for stolen property and he’s on his way with security from the outpost.”
The woman behind the desk held the paper stiffly between mailed digits. “Redgrin’s company handles dock affairs during the day, and we’ve got the night shift. What’s he bringing an outpost company here for?”
Maya’s head lowered further. “I’m but a lowly hunting slave, ma’am. It isn’t my place to question Master’s motives.”
“Fine.” The cat scoffed as she bound over the desk, metal clanking as she strutted toward the door. “Wait here. I’ll detain the ship for your Master’s arrival.” The moment the woman left, Maya’s pack slipped into the night and vanished among the buildings as they crept towards the docks.
“When security intervenes, whoever’s on that ship will be focused on her,” Maya said. “We’ll board the ship quick and quiet. Let’s find Ruari before they realize they’re going to get searched, otherwise, they might hurt him.”
Khukri’s jaw stiffened at that. She couldn’t actually know he was in there, and even if he was, she didn’t have any way of knowing he was alive. “Maya. There’s no one else above me in the order. If Master dies...”
“I know,” Maya said, tightening her grip on the spear. “I won’t let you turn. If it comes to that, do what you can to hold still. I’ll make it painless.”
With a stiff nod, Khukri crouched, darting amongst the wagons set to move cargo from the docks to the outpost. By now, the aibax had returned to their stables, leaving only the occasional driver tidying up before the mist descended.
“You say your Master has difficulty remembering his place in the order?” Maya pressed her back to a wagon wheel, listening for conversations on the dock. “Some owners like to pretend they don’t see their status. It might make you feel special, but never forget: all owners share the same dark hearts.”
“It’s not that...” Khukri hesitated, trying to form the thought correctly. “It’s like… he knows he’s in charge, but he’s too weak to take what he wants. He wants to believe he’s a good person. It makes him treat me… strangely.”
Maya’s head turned, affixing Khukri with a stern stare. “He’s an owner. He’s not a good person.”
“I know,” Khukri mumbled.
“There are no good owners,” Maya insisted, voice intensifying. “Good people don’t buy slaves. No matter how nice they dress you up, or how pleasant the mask they wear.”
“I said I know!” Khukri said sharply, pulling away from Maya. “All I meant is: he doesn’t know he’s a bad person - yet. It makes it hard for him to take his place.”
With a hard stare and a stiff nod, Maya looked back, ears perking up. “She’s just asked to speak to the boat’s captain. Get ready.” The pack tensed, and upon Via’s first word they charged. Maya led, streaking across the planks in silence before leaping from the edge to catch the rim of the small ship bobbing ten feet off the ground. Without a sound, Maya pulled herself up and vanished behind the bulwark. Next, Khukri rushed out, stealing a sideways glance at the irritated black dog with sharpened features and glaring at the armoured cat and her security forces by gaslight.
When Khukri made the jump, Maya burst from hiding, grasping her arm and helping to clear the deck. “This isn’t a big boat; there’s not many places to hide,” Maya said, glancing down to the gangplank where four hunting dogs watched Via, tensing as the discussion grew more animated. “You’ll have to sniff him out quickly, and we’ll strike before they find out what’s going on.”
Annah grasped Khukri’s arm, accepting the help up the side and onto the boat. “Annah, we’re going to find Master. Get the other girls onboard and keep an eye on those four.” her old friend gave a quick nod, turning back to the wagons and extending a hand to help the next girl up.
On the far end, a small door above deck marked the captain’s quarters. On this side, however, a set of stairs took them below, where storage and slave quarters would be. While it was possible Via would keep him close as her precious bounty, the cargo hold had more space. Given how much blood they’d found, he’d risk staining something important if they dragged him in there. She pretended to sniff the air, then nodded. “He’s down here.”
As they carefully descended into the lower deck, Maya set her spear aside and drew a hunting knife. “I hear two, maybe guarding the hostage.”
“Try not to kill them,” Khukri muttered, earning a glare from Maya. “I told you, Master thinks he’s a good person. He wouldn’t want me killing slaves if I can help it.”
The blade flourished, ending with its point toward the white wolf. “If there’s a chance they’ll fight us, we kill.”
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After a nod, the two crept past boxes of sailcloth, beast parts, and ale, before reaching two collared women in full armour leaning among boxes that smelled of sausages. Neither touched the scimitar at their hip, chatting in darkness about the delay. One even considered searching for their whip to know what to do.
With an abrupt hand signal, Maya banked left, leaving Khukri to sweep around the right. As she crept closer, Maya burst from hiding, pressing a knife to her victim’s throat and restraining her sword arm with the opposite hand. “Don’t scream,” Maya advised. “I can open your throat faster than you can call for help.”
The moment Maya appeared, the second one took in a sharp breath, stepping back in shock. Before she could yell, Khukri pounced, wrapping her arms around the woman’s neck and flexing to cut off the blood to her brain. Her target instinctively reached up, but Khukri’s legs caught her forearms and pinned them down as she locked her ankles. The struggle was brief, with the woman throwing herself backward to smash Khukri into the ground, but once that failed to break the grip, Khukri only had to hold firm, choking the woman out as they thrashed on the floor.
“We’re not going to kill her,” Maya assured, letting her victim watch the display. “If we wanted to, we’d have slit both your throats before you knew we were here. You’re just following orders.”
After a few seconds, Khukri’s target went limp. She hastily released her, tied her muzzle shut, then hog-tied her before the woman could wake. “Quiet.” Khukri grabbed the woman’s ears, pulling her head back to show a glistening set of wolven jaws eager to finish the job. “If you make me regret letting you live, you die, and they still won’t hear you.” She let the threat hang in the air a moment before dropping the woman’s head and approaching their other prisoner.
The woman with a knife to her throat stared defiantly at Khukri, legs barely shaking with her hands raised at her sides. The woman was older than Khukri, with curly grey fur marred by a patch of white covering her stubby nose and running around her left eye. With deliberate slowness, Khukri grabbed a fistful of the woman’s fur, leaning in to glare into her eyes. “Where’s the deer?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Maya pressed the blade tight. “You think I give a shit if you live or die? You cooperate, or I’ll slit your throat and get it out of your friend down there.”
Khukri raised her hand, lowering her voice. “No need for that.” She moved close enough to feel the woman’s shallow breath flow across her muzzle. “I’m a tracking specialist, the best of the best. You went through a river, you coated him in an alchemical scent blocker, and I still tracked him to this ship. Security is seizing your mistress as we speak, your pack’s getting detained, and tomorrow, you’ll be testifying to outpost security. If you won’t tell me, I’ll find him eventually. All you need to do to live - is move your eyes.”
A hint of fear sliced through the defiance. Maybe the woman was willing to die for her owner, maybe, but there was little purpose in dying for nothing. The dog’s lips tightened, baring her teeth as her eyes flicked to one of the long boxes. “Piss off.”
With a thankful smile, Khukri stepped back. “Fine, be that way. I’ll find him on my own.” She pretended to sniff the air, wandering toward the indicated box. With shaking hands, Khukri lifted the lid, revealing a long row of sausages. She brushed the top layer aside, realizing the two or three rows left far more room in a compartment beneath. She stood, stalking toward the hostage with a dark glower. “There’s a false bottom. I need a knife to pry it up.”
“I can’t arm you,” Maya said. “Master’s orders. Take the girl and tie her up. I’ll open the box.”
Khukri ripped the woman from Maya’s arms and tossed her to the ground, growling to warn her prisoner not to test a wolf’s patience. As she tied, she waited, head lowered in anticipation. If Maya opened the crate and Master was... If Khukri was going to go, she wanted to make it as easy on her friend as she could.
“Khukri?” The voice was weak, like a beggar crawling through the dirt, unworthy of leading her, and yet...
Her tail thrashed as she turned, eagerly hurrying to Master’s naked, brutalized body. His breath stank of bile and blood, while the wounds across his back and cheek swelled under a coat of dried blood. “Master...you’re safe now. Your pet wolf will protect you.”
Maya pushed him forward, letting him stagger into her arms. For a moment, all she could do was hold him, wrap her arms around her only tether to reality and thank Deianira things worked out the way they did. “Never do that again,” Khukri demanded, forgetting her role as her arm curled behind his knees so she could lift him. Maya stayed behind to keep the others quiet as Khukri carried him above deck. The rest of her pack grinned as she emerged, now surrounding the remaining four bound guards.
“Via?” Master mumbled.
“She’s with security.” Khukri pressed her head into his chest. “I was supposed to protect you, idiot. I can’t fulfill my purpose if you’re using yourself as bait...”
“Shhh, it’s over.” Master ran his fingers through her fur, playing with her ears. “You saved me, we won. It’s finally over.”
With her head held high, Khukri marched down the gangplank into the parting crowd. The group consisted of the cat from earlier, with several of her guards, arguing with Issac and another security company about who was allowed to carry out the search, and what cargo was stolen, specifically. Between them, Via and her two slaves were restrained and staring daggers. Silence fell over the group as Khukri walked into their midst and set Master down on unsteady legs.
“Ruari!” Issac rushed forward, pulling Master in for a hug. “You’re alive, thank Deianira.” After a tight squeeze, Issac stepped back, summoning a security guard with a blanket to cover Master’s nudity. Now, with obvious justification on his side, Issac became bolder in dealing with the crowd, turning on Via with a cold stare. “What was stolen - was my friend. Will you tell us who you worked for, or do you feel like digging that hole a bit deeper before we bury you in it?”
“His name’s not Ruari,” Via growled, glaring at Master. “His name is Ashling; he’s a nobody farmer from a Tythic island. He’s a criminal, wanted in connection with the theft of the Dusk Empire’s sacred artifact.”
Issac looked from Master to Via. “This man? This man’s a random farmer... and a criminal mastermind who stole from the Dusk Emperor?” A long, bewildered look crossed his face before he shook his head. “You know, I didn’t think anyone would come up with a less believable backstory than literal royalty, but here we are.” He stepped closer, cocking his head at Via. “Understand this, there’s not many things the syndicate takes more seriously than interfering with business. You’ll hang for this, I’ll see to it.”
With a dismissive gesture, Issac motioned for security to cart her away while he wrapped Master’s arm around his shoulders to help him walk. “Ruari, let me apologize for how I acted.”
Khukri fell in place behind them, keeping watch as they stumbled toward the wagons.
Master let out a raspy bark of laughter. “Apologize? You just saved my life.”
“Before that,” Issac clarified. “I’ve been doubting you since the first day we met, looking for some secret hidden agenda. With the circles I run in, it’s all backstabbing and posturing; I’ve never met someone genuine. When you ran off to lead them away-”
“Stop.” Master smiled weakly, pulling his blanket tighter. “It was one of us or both. You’d have done the same.”
“No. Self-sacrifice isn’t among my virtues,” Issac chuckled. “I’ve made peace with what I am. Still, I should’ve taken you more seriously.”
“I think it’s clear I’m in over my head,” Master said, letting out a sad laugh. “I think I’ll return Khukri to her pack and catch the next boat out. I can come back next season with some proper guards.”
Khukri folded her hands, swallowing as a weight collapsed into her stomach. She’d just got him back, and already he was getting rid of her, just like that. It made sense. She’d fulfilled her purpose, so he didn’t need her anymore. Besides, this was exactly what she wanted, wasn’t it? To reunite with her pack and let Maya restore order. Khukri forced herself to smile at the good news.
“Nonsense. We’re well on our way to getting you a membership.” Issac helped Master into one of the wagons, then turned back. “Khukri, tend to your master. I’m going to get a driver to hitch up the wagon for a mist run to the outpost.”
Master looked from Khukri to Issac, eyes wide and panicked. “Issac - I - you don’t have to-”
“Shush, little parrot,” Issac chided, grinning as he ran the back of his hand across Master’s cut face. “I have an abundance of guest rooms I’m not using. For the rest of this season, consider yourself to have the full protection of the Direwood Syndicate. A man brave enough to divert assassins wouldn’t stain my honour by refusing my hospitality, would he?”
“...no.”
“Splendid! He’s all yours, Khukri.” Issac whirled about, marching back into the crowd.
The smile Khukri forced onto her face ceased to be forced. She approached Master, rubbing the side of his face with hers and draping her arms over his shoulders. “Will you be staying, Master?”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, leaning into her. “I’ll get you back to your pack, I promise. I just need you to stay with me till hunting season’s over. Please.”
“Five weeks?” She closed her eyes and reveled in his scent. “I can last another five weeks.”