Oh my god… over fifty reviews have come in on this story and I am left blinking and wondering what it is that I did that was so great… But thank you all, and thank you to etcetera-cat, my fiftieth reviewer. This chapter is dedicated to you. ('cause you're special :-P)
Replies to Reviewers:
Faeborn2930- I smile…
Wizard116- No! I like longer reviews from people. It lets me know that they've read, comprehended, and love it so much that they want to comment. Not that I'm complaining, of course. :-P
Fireblade K'Chona- #sweatdrops# Yeeeeaaah… right….. umm re-read Chapter Nine; I fixed the problems there. Sorry 'bout that.
Mischakitsune- You and you alone wait for that day comparable to the Day of Reckoning that is #gulps# tomorrow. Now, far, far ahead of the sixteenth, (okay, not really) is your update :-)
Etcetera-cat- Thou shalt find thy review in Chapter Nine, over yonder…
Sarah- :-P
Amber Stag- I am not a fop. I am what I am, and I'm many things more than you think. A fop is, fortunately, not one of them. In other words, Yo es non un foppo, y tu es muy, muy, muy estupido, baka nina deshi.
Anon-weehee- . #bows#
And folks, we have now officially reached the double-digits in chapter numbers. Thanks for stickin' with me.
Notes:
Dear Stansfield,
just a brief reminder:
my salary has not been paid.
Send it care of the ghost,
by return of post-
Whoops. Wrong note, sorry. Um, I'm not too battle-scene writing-savvy, so just bear with me on all battles. Maybe I'll get better with time. Er- if someone wants to give me a hand with those, I'd be much obliged. Thanks.
Also: I need a beta-writer/editor. Any volunteers?
Chapter Ten: Drop Your Guard.
Early the next morning, after a not-so-restful night, Rowen roused the camp and tried not to think about what dangers might have befallen Nadar.
Lisha and Julian crawled out of their bedrolls looking almost as disgusted as Rowen felt once they figured out the time, but Sa'heera looked sickeningly refreshed.
"So," she spoke in Valdemaran. "Do we go?"
"This is an unholy hour," Lisha protested. "But shouldn't someone stay with the camp?"
"Normally- no," Sa'heera said. "But given the fact that we need to someone to coordinate the search effort from here, I think that it should be… well, not me. I'm the only one here that Nadar might trust."
Rowen felt something inside him twinge at the statement, but he stifled it.
"So," she continued. "Rowen can go farther and faster than any of us, being his body is suited for the Plains- sorry, Inyam; your hooves aren't suited for the grasslands. So he's got to go. Plus he'd probably abandon the camp and make for where he'd think Nadar would be the second we turned our backs." She said wryly.
Rowen had the grace to blush, but no more than that. "True, sister. I am going, and that leaves Lisha and Inyam, and Julian."
Sa'heera took her cue to continue. "No offense, Lisha, but Nadar is definitely not going to trust you, being an Outlander and all..." she trailed off, looking uncertain.
"That's alright, Sa'heera. I can Mindspeak the birds from here and see what they know. If I'm lucky- does he have a horse?"
Sa'heera looked intrigued. Apparently she hadn't heard of Animal Mindspeech. "Yes- he has Canan. Another palfrey, but he was one of the ones bred specifically for speed, so there's no chance you could catch up, even on Inyam."
"I understand that. If I look for a horse mind that responds to Canan- then I'll tell it to come back to the camp as fast as possible, so the boy doesn't have the chance to jump off."
The Plainswoman grinned. "Great idea.
"Since you'll be staying here, Julian- I understand that you have the Gift of sensing other people and living things?" When the Bard nodded, she smiled. "Good. You'll come with me, then." Julian looked surprised, but nodded again. "Welladay, then. We'll come back after midday for a break and food, and we can discuss anything new then. For now- let's ride."
Sa'heera and Julian mounted up, and they set off with Rowen in the direction that Nadar's horse's tracks led.
Rowen studied the tracks at a small spring carefully. He'd split off from Sa'heera and Julian two candlemarks back, and he wasn't having much luck. Sa'heera and Julian had gone after one set of tracks, and he another. This new complication annoyed him. Why would Nadar's horse's tracks lead off in two different directions? The tracks crossed a small stream running along a slight ridge, but on the other side- upstream, they'd gone off in one direction, and downstream, another. He'd decided to take the downstream set, and they the upstream. His own trail was leading him towards the wall of the Plains, on the opposite side than Kata'shin'a'in. Hopefully they were having better luck than him; his tracks hadn't ended yet, but he had a feeling that they were going to end soon. What he didn't know was whether they would end as a false trail, or in Nadar. At this point, it could be either. Knowing Nadar's penchant for tricks five years ago, he'd picked up the skills to lay such a trail, but Rowen couldn't be sure.
Right now, anything was possible, and he-
There was a not-screech some distance in front of him, and he stiffened. It wasn't the screech of a human, and certainly not an animal. It sounded- like something inhuman, but more than that, it sounded absolutely furious, and he sped up his pace a little, drawing his swords. It sounded again and he forced his legs into a full gallop, finally stopping as an extremely odd sight met his eyes.
Situated on the wall of the ancient crater, about twenty feet up was a small ledge, barely large enough for a human to lay upon, yet a human it held. On the ledge, firing arrows for all he was worth, stood Nadar. The beasts he was firing at were moving fluidly around the rock base, and occasionally a few would jump and attempt to scale the rock, or make a dive for the path that Nadar had obviously climbed, but it would wind up with an arrow for its pains, and either fall off the cliff or slink away into the tall grass. They appeared to be mutated deer, but Rowen wasn't sure. While they had the overall body shape and heads of deer, those claws definitely weren't for walking around in a forest, and the fangs that appeared whenever one of the things opened its mouth convinced him that, whatever they were, they were most definitely not herbivores. One of the wounded ones nearly vanished into the grass, presumably to join its other injured fellows, but he didn't give it a chance. He moved silently yet swiftly through the grass to its side, and with a clean sweep of one sword, cut off its head. There was a scream from one of the creatures at the rock, and answering shrieks from somewhere out in the grasslands.
A dozen more injured- things boiled out of the grass, and there was no more time for thought- just action. He turned into a deadly whirlwind of slashing blades and kicking hooves as the beasts converged on him, and they fell, one by one, into the dark embrace of death, eyes glazing over and blood bubbling out of mortal wounds.
He engaged with three of the fell deer, slashing and slicing and fighting them all at once. Another jumped at him from behind; he rear-kicked it and it went flying off into the brush. A fifth jumped on his back, digging in with it's claws, and he had to rear several times- exposing his vulnerable underbelly- to get it off. He finished with the first trio, and whirled around before it could move, and with a scissor-like motion, severed its spine at the neck.
He was a killing machine, consumed with bloodlust and overtaken by the need to kill- kill-killkillkill them all- until there were no more left, and the fog that had clouded his mind abruptly dissipated, leaving him clear to think- 'Is Nadar okay?'and analyze- there was a horse corpse below the ridge, mostly reduced to bones, and what was left of Shin'a'in tack- obviously by the creatures- and to hear muffled exclamations from the ledge.
Slowly, Rowen raised his eyes to meet those of the boy on the rocks, and lowered his weapons, still clenched tightly in his hands, to hang down limply at his sides. He felt drenched in blood, and he probably was- his weapons gleamed with various bodily fluids, and all that he could see of his body was red, and he had numerous cut, scratch, and bite-marks along his body.
Nadar stared down at him, and Rowen stared right back. He knew he must look like a real monster, hair matted and sticky with blood, and probably covered in dirt, mud, and mostly blood- none of it his- not to mention the horse-body.
'There is no way he'll ever trust me after this,' Rowen thought miserably, as he continued to lock gazes with the now quite pale Shin'a'in boy.
Slowly, ever slowly, he approached the cliff face, being sure not to make any sudden movements. Nadar's dinner-plate sized eyes remained fixed on him, and Rowen despaired of ever befriending the boy again. The silence grew, and reached unbearable levels, and suddenly he couldn't take. In what had to be one of the stupidest things that he'd ever said in his life, he called up to Nadar. "Do you have any spare cloths?" he asked in Shin'a'in. "I'm afraid I'm rather covered in blood, and I'd like to get some of it off before it dried."
While it wasn't the greatest conversation-starter, it had the effect he'd wanted, and jerkily, Nadar reached behind himself and rummaged around in an obviously Shin'a'in traveling-pack that Rowen hadn't noticed before. He tossed two pieces down, one a rag, and the other a small, quick-drying towel. Rowen nodded, and swiftly wiped the blood off of his swords with the rag, before sheathing them and starting to try and mop some of the red fluid from his face.
When he'd finished, he looked at the rags distastefully. They were now stained a brownish color from the drying blood. Rowen's nose wrinkled, and he tucked them into his belt.
"Ah- You are Nadar shena Tale'sedrin?" He called up hesitantly.
"No." The boy answered coldly. "Nadar shena Tale'sedrin is dead. I am Alendinor."
'Oh, boy. He really has declared himself dead. This is not good. And this is not the Nadar I knew. Where is my brother?'
"Well, then, Alendinor." He decided to humor the boy. "Since all of the- the things are gone, would you like to come down?"
"Whyfor?"
Rowen frowned. "It can't be very comfortable on that rock. Look; you can't even sit down. Shouldn't you be with your Clan?"
Nadar's face hardened. "What Clan?"
"Tale'sedrin. The Children of the Hawk. As you are."
"I am not Tale'sedrin. Nadar was, but he is dead now. I am Alendinor," Nadar insisted.
"If you are Alendinor, then who am I?" Rowen decided to probe that area and see what reaction he got.
He got less than he bargained for.
"I don't know. Shouldn't you tell me?" This was definitely not the Nadar he knew.
"I am…" Rowen almost lost his nerve, but regained it and continued. "I am Rowen shena Tale'sedrin, returned to the Clans after five years of wandering alone. I know you, and I know that you know who I am. Drop the act. You are Nadar shena Tale'sedrin. I am Rowen." He decided to ditch his own bravado act.
"Nadar… don't you recognize me? I'm changed, in more ways than one, but… I'm still the same old Rowen. I'm sorry… I'm so sorry. Please- I'm Rowen, nothing more, and nothing less."
Nadar stared at him. "Well, you sure are ugly."
Why that impudent little- Rowen's temper flared. "And you're still the insolent little brat I left behind, kid. The Goddess only knows why I ever watched out for you, impertinent piece of…" he trailed off, seeing Nadar's eyes getting even wider. "Come back to the camp with me?" Rowen half pleaded. "You can leave again if you want- I'll even supply you with a horse if you want, just please- come back to the camp for the night."
Slowly, Nadar nodded, and tossed his pack off the ledge after fastening it. It landed in the blood-clumped dust between two of the deer things, and Nadar landed heavily after it after climbing halfway down, bow slung across his shoulder and few remaining arrows secured in their quiver. Rowen noticed that the boy tried not to stare at him but was having trouble doing so, and had resorted to watching Rowen out of the corner of his eye.
"Relax, will you?" Rowen snorted. "I don't eat children. I am not the Snow Demon." He pointed at the horse half. "Horses don't eat meat. I am not fond of meat. I like vegetables, and the occasional rabbit. Nothing more."
At the mention of meat, Nadar looked at the body of the horse lying on the ground. Rowen's heart immediately softened as the boy's expression fell.
"Best see to Canan, Nadar." He whispered softly.
Nadar edged over to the gelding's corpse, and ran the last few steps. He knelt down at the horse's side and ran trembling hands along its muzzle. Nadar squeezed his eyes shut for a few long moments, and he appeared to come to a decision. Rowen watched in sympathy as he deftly stripped the horse of whatever tack remained, heedless of the congealed blood that stained his hands. With tears running down his dirty and smudged face, the boy looked around at the bodies scattered about the area with a look of despair. He glanced back down at the body and sniffled, wiping his arm across his eyes and smearing his face further. Reverently, he picked up the tack and carried it over to a small boulder. With an innate understanding, Rowen stepped over, and together, they moved the boulder aside to reveal a small hollow in the earth. Nadar crouched in the middle and started digging at the earth, and when he'd made a hole about three feet deep and about the same width, he stopped, picked up the tack again, and went back to the hole. The young Shin'a'in lay the tack inside lovingly, running his hand over the tooled leather one last time. He piled the earth back over gently, patting it only once to ensure that it was down, and moved out of the circle. They moved the boulder back over it, and Nadar walked back to the horse corpse. He knelt down beside it, and the tears continued to pour down his face. He whispered something into the horse's ear that Rowen, for all of his enhanced hearing, couldn't hear, and closed its sightless, staring eyes. Then, finally, he stood, grabbed his pack, and faced Rowen.
"I'm ready," was all he said, but Rowen knew that there were many other things left unsaid. He let it rest.
They got back to the camp an hour past the agreed-upon meeting time. Needless to say, Sa'heera and Lisha were angry, but Julian was panic-stricken. To save some time, Rowen had carried Nadar's pack, but they still returned late. The two women were staring pensively into the fire, and Julian was pacing back and forth at the edge of the campsite. Nadar looked slightly frightened at the sight of the campfire and slowed his steps a little. Gently, Rowen leaned down and placed a hand between his shoulderblades and pushed him forward a little. At the sight of the boy, the two women gasped and rushed forward as one to usher him to a seat by the fire. Sa'heera looked over her shoulder and gave Rowen an accusing glance, then pointed to Julian and mouthed, Do something. The poor boy's been frantic with worry. Then come back. You're injured. Rowen nodded back and jerked his head back at the boy, then wandered over to where the Bard was pacing. Julian had stopped at the noises from the fire, and Rowen silently crept up behind him, which was not an easy thing to do- not in this body, and not in the tall, rustling grasses. Somehow he got there without making a sound, and stood behind Julian quietly, pondering what to do. After a few seconds, he decided on a direct approach and just grabbed the Bard's shoulders and spun him around, intending to apologize for being late. Julian gasped, tripped, and fell backwards within a heartbeat, landing on his rump in the dust.
"Rowen I-" he gasped out as the mentioned Changechild helped him sit up.
"How did you know it was me?" Rowen asked. Julian couldn't possibly known that he was over here…
"Empathy." Julian tapped his own temple, and Rowen immediately felt stupid.
"Oh," was the only thing he could think to say.
The younger man snorted. "You're late."
"I had a passenger."
"So I'd noticed. So that's Nadar?"
"Yes."
"Sans horse?"
"The horse is dead."
Julian's eyebrows shot up. "How?"
"These… these beast things. They were almost like deer, but more… more… beastly than any deer I've ever seen."
"Changebeasts?"
Rowen's mouth quirked. "Possibly. I'm not quite sure, anymore. Of course, we could take one of the bodies back with us for your Mages to examine. The entire herd is dead, after all."
"Dead? You killed all of them on your own?"
"Well, not exactly. Nadar killed a half a dozen, but there were probably about two or three dozen in the herd. I didn't exactly have time to count."
"One and a half to two dozen! And you weren't killed!" Julian exclaimed. "But you're- you're hurt. Why didn't I notice that?"
"Perhaps you were too busy worrying?" Rowen suggested delicately.
Julian's nostrils flared. "He's injured and he still has the strength to joke," he muttered. "And you smell like blood and horse sweat. Go have Lisha take a look at your injuries," he ordered gruffly.
"Something wrong?" Rowen queried. The Bard seemed a little crotchety at the moment. Of course that could always be due to worrying over Rowen. Or sitting and walking in the full sun for several hours. Or he could have hit a particularly sharp rock when he sat down. Or… There were dozens of reasons, and Rowen didn't exactly have the temper to consider them all at the moment. The bloodlust was still hovering in his mind, despite the hours that had passed since its zenith.
"No, nothing."
"Good. I'm going to wash off, then."
Rowen turned from the sitting Bard, and left the camp to travel to a stream that he knew was nearby.
After he'd washed all of the blood and grime off of himself, and decided that his wounds weren't as bad as he'd feared; certainly nothing to need looking at, he returned to the camp with an aching head and a slight feeling of nausea. He figured that it had to be from the bloodbath and the fact that he hadn't eaten, except for a sketchy breakfast eaten while on the trail that morning, and ignored it. After he apologized to Sa'heera and Lisa for being late, he discovered that he was being largely ignored by Nadar, who was still adamantly refusing to admit that Rowen was alive, much less less than twenty feet away. Lisha had produced a stew, and he and Nadar ate with gusto, the boy in a manner that suggested he hadn't eaten a good meal in months, which he probably hadn't.
After Rowen had eaten, the queasiness subsided somewhat, but his headache increased tenfold. 'It's probably just something that was in what I ate this morning,' he told himself. Unfortunately, it decided to prove him wrong by having his nausea come back with a vengeance about a candlemark later, forcing him to make a hasty retreat to the edge of the camp before he lost all of the contents of his stomach in several not quite gut-purging heaves. When nothing was coming up but stomach acid, he wiped his mouth and returned to the fire and met several pairs of concerned eyes.
"It's nothing," he assured them. "Probably something I ate." Lisha looked at him skeptically from her position leaning against Inyam's back, and Sa'heera just gave him an annoyed glance that read, you're just playing macho so cut it out, which he promptly ignored. Nadar refused to look at him, but he did lean over to whisper something in the Herald's ear. Her eyes widened quite noticeably, and she did a remarkable impression of Nadar when he was on the ledge, considering that she hadn't been there.
"Rowen," she said, voice trembling slightly. "Could you please come here for a second?"
He obliged wordlessly, kneeling down before her so she could speak to him at eye level. Her eyes did not focus on him, rather on his back, and any remaining blood drained from her face.
"Oh Bright Lady, no," she whispered.
Curious, he turned his head to view the horse back. All that was there was fur, the spine ridge, the tail. Hee, the tail. He flicked it once, watching it fly up and down. His tail was funny. He looked at his back. It was all cut up. So what? A few scratches and bite marks weren't going to do anything. Silly Changebeast deer things, thinking that they could harm him. What could harm Rowen shena Tale'sedrin, mightiest of warriors?
Lisha's voice caught his wandering attention again. "Rowen, can you hear me?"
"'Course I can hear you."
She breathed a sigh of relief. "Oh, good, you're okay. Listen- Nadar said that his horse wasn't brought down by attacks. Well, it was, but poison weakened it considerably before it died."
'Poison?'
"Are you in any pain?"
"Me? Pain? Nohohoo. I'm fine. Bright and dandy, in fact. Just dandy. Dandy, dandy daaaandyyyy."
"Uh-oh…" She turned to look it Inyam, and they both exchanged that look.
For a few minutes, they looked into each other's eyes, using that silent, wordless communication that the Ever-Mighty Rowen envied.
"What'cha dooooin?" he asked.
"Er- Rowen, now that we've got Nadar, I think it's time to head back to Haven."
"Don't wanna go. I wanna stay here," he said petulantly.
"Not a good idea. Pack up camp now!" She called. "Rowen's been poisoned!"
The camp flew into a frenzy of activity, and Rowen watched from the sidelines, occasionally attempting to move, but his body wouldn't obey him. That was funny. He started laughing at the absurdness, and soon he couldn't stop. He was laughing uncontrollably and knew, in his heart, that this was wrong.
'Oh, sheka.'
Soon, a pretty white cat with blue eyes and orange markings on its face, paws, and tail popped out of nowhere next to him, and he vaguely recognized it.
:Rowen? Rowen, can you hear me?: A strange yet familiar voice said into his mind. Somehow, that seemed completely natural, so he just answered it.
"Sure I can!"
:Rowen, listen very carefully to me. I'm going to Jump you back to Haven right now. The Healers are waiting for us, and so is An'desha. Rowen, can you hear me? Rowen!:
'Rowen? Is that my name?' he wondered muzzily as he slipped into darkness, laughing quietly. 'So pretty. Rowen…'
Hiro: #blinks# Well, that was rather random…