LEGACY OF SHADOWS

Disclaimer: As before

CHAPTER THREE: THE EARLY DAYS

Kayto's claws sank deeper into the slippery bark as he sought a better hold. He was almost three quarters of the way up a tall beech tree, trying to reach a pigeon's nest in the higher branches; eggs were a welcome treat. Shifting position, he looked around him for a pawhold, emerald green eyes intent and focused.

The young wildcat was twelve seasons or so of age now, about two-thirds of the way into his adult growth. His striped fur was short still rather than thick and shaggy; he lacked bulk but had the almost scrawny look of a beast who has grown a lot in a short space of time. Dressed simply in a dark green tunic, with a short knife thrust through the plain black belt at his waist, there was nothing particularly unusual about him. He was secretly relieved to have been sent out to forage; lately he had been growing irritated with his foster mother. Black Tip had taught him to fight ever since his third season, but now Kayto was at an age where he preferred to be roaming the woodlands, climbing, walking, fishing or hunting; he didn't want to train at the same task for hours on end.

Clinging deftly, he sank his hind claws into the trunk for extra grip and loosed one paw, reaching up for the next hold. The branch snapped off and he was left awkwardly hanging by one paw, supporting a little of his weight on a footpaw jammed into a crevice and frantically seeking another hold before he lost his grip.

Then the branch he was holding on to began to creak threateningly. The young wildcat stared at it as though willing it to hold, feeling about him frantically as he sought an alternative. Looking around, he saw a branch just out of reach above him that would hold him; this was going to be tricky. Tensing, he sank all ten hind claws into the tree trunk and let go with his forepaws, kicking upwards in a desperate half-leap that made his muscles ache in protest. He just barely caught hold of the branch with one paw and was almost undone when the claws of one footpaw didn't come free of the trunk.

Muscles screaming in pain, Kayto jerked free and hauled himself up onto the thicker branch. Leaning back against the trunk panting, he wiped a paw across his brow and grinned; that had been a close one. Working sore muscles, he stood up carefully and pulled himself upwards, jamming his body into a corner between two branches. Setting his back against the trunk and planting each footpaw on a separate branch, he steadied himself and reached out for the nest with his free paw, carefully lifting free his prizes and placing them inside a pouch at his belt before beginning to slide awkwardly back down the tree. Dropping the last few feet, he landed deftly and set off at an easy lope back to the den.

Black Tip was pleased to see him, and placed the eggs carefully in their small store of food. Then the vixen turned with an expression Kayto knew all too well, and with a sinking heart he saw she was holding his bow. The sturdy longbow was newly made by Kayto himself, under the vixen's guidance, and he was learning archery, the last skill she could teach him. He had learned staff and spear, knife and dagger, sling and weaponless fighting; he could not learn the sword here, since they did not have one for him to use.

"Time to practise, Kayto."

Rebelliously, he stood his ground and curled his lip. "I've done nothing but fire that stupid bow most of every day since I made it."

"And you're still missing the target half the time. You'll keep drilling with it until you learn, same as you did with everything else we've studied."

"What for?" he snapped. "What's the point? We've never seen anybeast around here. Why am I learning all this when there's nobeast to fight? It's a waste of time."

She was silent for a moment before finally answering softly, "You're wrong, Kayto. You have a great enemy who you must someday fight and kill if you are to survive, for if he learns you still live he will try to destroy you."

He looked at her blankly, not understanding what she was saying. He had never known anybeast other than her; how could he have an enemy who hated him? "Who?" he asked.

"Your father."

A long silence fell as the young wildcat bit his lip. She had never told him anything other than that she had found him wandering as a kitten and had taken him in; he hadn't known that she knew his parents. "You know my father?" he asked finally.

"Of course I do," she said sharply. "You're not stupid, Kayto. Use your head." Seeing his expression, she went on in a softer voice. "Yes, I know him. Or I knew him, once. Come with me."

She led him into the cave and from a dark corner pulled out a metal disc on a chain. He had never seen it before. "This is yours by right of birth and blood. It was around your neck when I found you; it is how I knew who you were." Taking it, Kayto traced the design with a paw, examining the eyes carved in minute detail upon the surface.

"What does it mean?"

She regarded it with almost loathing. "It is the emblem of your family, the sign of the Thousand Eyes, carried by the Greeneyes family since the days of Verdauga."

"Verdauga?" He was stunned. Black Tip had told him many legends of famous vermin leaders and taught him of the wars they had fought; he had heard the name Verdauga before. "I'm descended from him?"

"Yes," she replied. "Your name is Kayto Greeneyes, Lord of the Thousand Eyes by right, although you cannot claim that title until you have killed your father."

"Who is he?"

"His name is Lisk."

"Why do I have to kill him?" Kayto asked her. "He is my father. How can he be my enemy?"

She shook her head. "You are an innocent still. Lisk abandoned you when you were barely a season old. I do not know the exact circumstances but he left you to die; it was sheer luck that led you into my camp. You were near death from starvation and exposure when I found you."

He was confused. Kayto had never known his family, and to suddenly learn that his father at least was alive had a profound effect on him. He had always assumed himself to be an orphan, and whilst it had never bothered him he had always felt the lack and wondered who his parents were. Staring at her, he said softly, "I don't want to kill my father."

She snarled at him. "He doesn't love you, Kayto! He doesn't care if you're alive or dead. If you show up at wherever he has made his home, he won't welcome you with open paws; he will try his very best to kill you."

"But why?"

"Because that is the way he is. He doesn't know how to love anything except himself and he will let nothing ruin his plans for the good life. He is a monster and must be killed; I tried once and I failed, and I paid dearly for it. When I found you I took the opportunity to set things in motion so that one day Lisk would be killed…" She trailed off at the expression on her foster son's face, realising that she had gone too far and said too much.

Kayto's eyes blazed. His tail fluffed up and began to twitch, the automatic response of an angry cat; arching his back where he crouched, he hissed softly before speaking. "So I was nothing more than an opportunity?"

Black Tip shook her head frantically, holding out her paws to him. "That isn't what I meant –"

He cut her off by standing. The same height as her, almost an adult, he gazed down at the vixen with the eyes of a kitten for the last time, confused and upset and saddened by what he had heard. Then the childhood innocence was lost in anger, a mask drawn down to hide his feelings. "I was just a tool for you. You saw me and thought that you could use me to make your desires come true. You say my father doesn't love me, but neither do you."

Holding up the medallion before his face, he stared at it for a moment before dropping the chain over his head so that it hung on his chest, then turned and started for the door. Black Tip stood up and called after him, "Kayto, wait! Let me tell you the full story!"

"Why?" he snapped back. "How can I believe anything you say now? All my life you said you cared about me, even said you loved me, but you just wanted to use me. I can't trust you, can I?" More softly, he added in almost a whisper, "I can't trust anything any more."

Dashing a paw across his eyes, he fled outside and ran into the shelter of the trees, heading for the stream.

END OF CHAPTER THREE

A little touch of angst, just to make things interesting…