Like silver dawn breaking against night's darkness, mused Deran as
his fellow commander's silver fangs contracted into a grimace of fury.
"You mean to tell me," Jald began, each word coming slow and deliberately, "That a band of mere scouts-the ones that our intelligence have shown as bedraggled and lost-turned upon and drove my warriors into a retreat? The Manticore's warriors fled from a battle and left one of their own slain?"
Jald's fury collapsed upon itself, his words sweetened with poisoned honey as a smile creepy along the lines of his cold features.
The luckless ferret that had been given the 'honor' of presenting the news of the battle to the fearsome commander swallowed hard. Ranting and blustering was not uncommon with Jald, the more violent he sounded, the less violent he was likely to be. The time to fear him was when he linked arms with another and chatted to him like old friends.
"Yessir." The ferret lowered his head, half expecting to feel the cold bite of Jald's sword. "But they weren't scouts, sir.no scouts could fight like these beasts did.they were trained warriors, I'd stake my life on it!"
Deran was sitting aside from the conversation, a red paw gingerly fletching newly carved shafts, his dark blue eyes alert and ready for any information.
Jald's sickly sweet grin remained, showing several fangs. His tone lightened into that which a mother may have used to tuck her babe in. "Where is Windclaw?"
The floodgates of the ferret's fear that held back the flood of relief opened. He was not going to be blamed for this failure. "'E's in the 'ealer's tent, commander."
The only sign of Jald's anger was the twitching near his lower jaw. "I suppose he's injured?"
The messenger nodded, Jald returned the nod. "I suppose he ordered you on ahead with no regard for the consequences.we were just fighting 'scouts' after all?
Jald was leaving this conversation open completely. Either way, it did not bode well for Windclaw, Deran realized. The Manticore had never been renowned for its even temper nor its forgiving nature. He suspected the same warrior who had taken the mythical beast's name to be just the same.
As much as he detested Jald's unit, Deran could not help but pity Windclaw a bit. The young fox had showed the beginnings of a capable commander and a superb warrior. The fact remained he had only been following orders but this was likely to be lost upon Jald or turn attention to him that the archer commander could well do without.
Jald rested a paw upon the hilt of his broadsword thrust through the snakeskin belt, the hilt white and elaborate and-Deran realized with a slight rise-carved from a bone.
Jald let a delicate paw ascend to his forehead, tracing a claw down a scar on his cheek. Jakd's eyes, hard and cold as the emeralds they resembled, swept to his subordinate.
"Dismissed." He replied calmly.
The ferret stood, nodded respectfully to the two commanders and hurried out.
"For the first time in Calpathion history." Deran whispered. A flint struck a rock and inside Jald, a flame roared to life.
"We lost, Arakias? Is THAT what you meant to say?" He snarled, whirling upon Deran in his sudden fury.
"Yes, Jald. That is precisely what I meant to say." Deran replied calmly, his paw tightening on the arrow he held.
Jald smothered his fury, leaving smoldering embers of resentment burning as he hissed. "No scouts could do this.not to MY warriors.this has the work of the Death Watch warriors written all over it."
"You assume to much, Jald." Deran replied calmly. "Don't start. This does seem to bear Visla's sigil, but remember who blindly sent them in without thinking? Who didn't even bother with a simple recon! Did you judge it all on one idiot weasel I shot? Or a small scout party?"
Deran suddenly wished he hadn't thought to the scout party, remembering what he had found when he had ordered the carcasses burned.
The missing head had been enough to unnerve him. He did not know who had taken the grisly trophy and for what purpose. He knew better then to ask Jald.
He didn't think he wanted to know the answer.
"What are you going to suggest, Arakias?" Jald replied in a mocking tone. "There is no way in hell they could have known about us. Not unless-" He stopped short, mouth shutting.
"A question I've meant to ask you, Jald Nightson.where do your loyalties lie?"
"You would think I'd." If Deran had drawn a dagger and rammed it into the ferret's stomach, Jald could not have looked more enraged then he had then. "You little brat! You know nothing about my loyalties! I fought with Kalis a long time ago under Caderan.And I fought with Visla too.I was there when we split, I fought my comrades, spilt their blood.and you know something else, Deran?"
Jald continued, his voice little more then a whisper. "I loved it.money meant nothing to me from that point on. All that mattered was the hunt, the rush of battle.the rush when my opponent lay at my feet.I owe my allegiances to the one provides me with a challenge.for now, its Kalis. I may despise him, but if I am to betray you, Deran, I will kill you, Kalis, Talrid and Eroket.especially Eroket. But I shall not sneak in the shadows like an assassin.it is not my way. How do I not know you have betrayed us? Only a commander could have warned Visla. "
Jald eyed the glare upon Deran's disbelieving face. "Nothing to say? Good."
Deran stood, adjusting his blue cloak, his eyes looked up to Jald's.
"Very well, Nightson.it seems we have no choice but to tolerate each
other."
"But we don't have to like it.or each other."
"Or each other."
Deran nodded, stepping forward as he opened the tent flap. "I'll spare you the troubles of reprimanding your defeated swordsbeast.I'll see to him myself."
Jald shrugged his soldiers and pushed past Deran, walking to his own tent. "Suit yourself."
Deran sighed irritably, praying somewhere, Eroket and the others were having better luck-and in better company-then he was.
"You mean to tell me," Jald began, each word coming slow and deliberately, "That a band of mere scouts-the ones that our intelligence have shown as bedraggled and lost-turned upon and drove my warriors into a retreat? The Manticore's warriors fled from a battle and left one of their own slain?"
Jald's fury collapsed upon itself, his words sweetened with poisoned honey as a smile creepy along the lines of his cold features.
The luckless ferret that had been given the 'honor' of presenting the news of the battle to the fearsome commander swallowed hard. Ranting and blustering was not uncommon with Jald, the more violent he sounded, the less violent he was likely to be. The time to fear him was when he linked arms with another and chatted to him like old friends.
"Yessir." The ferret lowered his head, half expecting to feel the cold bite of Jald's sword. "But they weren't scouts, sir.no scouts could fight like these beasts did.they were trained warriors, I'd stake my life on it!"
Deran was sitting aside from the conversation, a red paw gingerly fletching newly carved shafts, his dark blue eyes alert and ready for any information.
Jald's sickly sweet grin remained, showing several fangs. His tone lightened into that which a mother may have used to tuck her babe in. "Where is Windclaw?"
The floodgates of the ferret's fear that held back the flood of relief opened. He was not going to be blamed for this failure. "'E's in the 'ealer's tent, commander."
The only sign of Jald's anger was the twitching near his lower jaw. "I suppose he's injured?"
The messenger nodded, Jald returned the nod. "I suppose he ordered you on ahead with no regard for the consequences.we were just fighting 'scouts' after all?
Jald was leaving this conversation open completely. Either way, it did not bode well for Windclaw, Deran realized. The Manticore had never been renowned for its even temper nor its forgiving nature. He suspected the same warrior who had taken the mythical beast's name to be just the same.
As much as he detested Jald's unit, Deran could not help but pity Windclaw a bit. The young fox had showed the beginnings of a capable commander and a superb warrior. The fact remained he had only been following orders but this was likely to be lost upon Jald or turn attention to him that the archer commander could well do without.
Jald rested a paw upon the hilt of his broadsword thrust through the snakeskin belt, the hilt white and elaborate and-Deran realized with a slight rise-carved from a bone.
Jald let a delicate paw ascend to his forehead, tracing a claw down a scar on his cheek. Jakd's eyes, hard and cold as the emeralds they resembled, swept to his subordinate.
"Dismissed." He replied calmly.
The ferret stood, nodded respectfully to the two commanders and hurried out.
"For the first time in Calpathion history." Deran whispered. A flint struck a rock and inside Jald, a flame roared to life.
"We lost, Arakias? Is THAT what you meant to say?" He snarled, whirling upon Deran in his sudden fury.
"Yes, Jald. That is precisely what I meant to say." Deran replied calmly, his paw tightening on the arrow he held.
Jald smothered his fury, leaving smoldering embers of resentment burning as he hissed. "No scouts could do this.not to MY warriors.this has the work of the Death Watch warriors written all over it."
"You assume to much, Jald." Deran replied calmly. "Don't start. This does seem to bear Visla's sigil, but remember who blindly sent them in without thinking? Who didn't even bother with a simple recon! Did you judge it all on one idiot weasel I shot? Or a small scout party?"
Deran suddenly wished he hadn't thought to the scout party, remembering what he had found when he had ordered the carcasses burned.
The missing head had been enough to unnerve him. He did not know who had taken the grisly trophy and for what purpose. He knew better then to ask Jald.
He didn't think he wanted to know the answer.
"What are you going to suggest, Arakias?" Jald replied in a mocking tone. "There is no way in hell they could have known about us. Not unless-" He stopped short, mouth shutting.
"A question I've meant to ask you, Jald Nightson.where do your loyalties lie?"
"You would think I'd." If Deran had drawn a dagger and rammed it into the ferret's stomach, Jald could not have looked more enraged then he had then. "You little brat! You know nothing about my loyalties! I fought with Kalis a long time ago under Caderan.And I fought with Visla too.I was there when we split, I fought my comrades, spilt their blood.and you know something else, Deran?"
Jald continued, his voice little more then a whisper. "I loved it.money meant nothing to me from that point on. All that mattered was the hunt, the rush of battle.the rush when my opponent lay at my feet.I owe my allegiances to the one provides me with a challenge.for now, its Kalis. I may despise him, but if I am to betray you, Deran, I will kill you, Kalis, Talrid and Eroket.especially Eroket. But I shall not sneak in the shadows like an assassin.it is not my way. How do I not know you have betrayed us? Only a commander could have warned Visla. "
Jald eyed the glare upon Deran's disbelieving face. "Nothing to say? Good."
Deran stood, adjusting his blue cloak, his eyes looked up to Jald's.
"Very well, Nightson.it seems we have no choice but to tolerate each
other."
"But we don't have to like it.or each other."
"Or each other."
Deran nodded, stepping forward as he opened the tent flap. "I'll spare you the troubles of reprimanding your defeated swordsbeast.I'll see to him myself."
Jald shrugged his soldiers and pushed past Deran, walking to his own tent. "Suit yourself."
Deran sighed irritably, praying somewhere, Eroket and the others were having better luck-and in better company-then he was.