Disclaimer: All non-original characters are property of SEGA or their respective creators.

9. Over the Hills and Far Away

The panting foxes' fingers interlaced as they touched noses.

"I love you…my prince," sighed Zoë.

An impish smile flickered on her lover's lips.

"In here…it's Miles."

The vixen smiled meekly.

"You don't make it…easy to remember."

"Flatterer," breathed Miles.

He kissed Zoë, muffling her ensuing whimper.

жЖж

"What's the matter, little cub?" chuckled the jackal, casting a glance over her shoulder, "Never walked on sand before?"

Whisp kept her head down, concentrating on keeping her balance on the shifting sand under her bare feet. The taunt was too ridiculous to merit a retort.

Of course she hadn't walked on sand before. She'd never left her master Gordian's farm before, or at least no further than his sheep had ever strayed. And who did she think she was calling 'cub'? She was reliably informed the coming harvest would be the fifteenth since her birth.

The golden she-wolf stumbled on up the dune, following the trail of pawprints left by her jackal guide. It was easier than trying to keep sight of the cloaked figure in the predawn gloom.

"Watch yourself, little cub," said the jackal as Whisp bumped into her at the top of the dune.

"Sorry, mistress," the she-wolf mumbled.

Her guide tsked. "Don't call me that. In Songhai, you are no one's slave."

"Yes, my lady. Sorry, my lady."

Whisp inhaled sharply as the jackal pinched her chin, forcibly tilting her head upwards until their eyes met.

"I am Abundita, little cub. You know this."

The she-wolf wanted to ask why she wouldn't call her by her own name, but boldness was in short supply just now. She couldn't help glancing at the solitary tent pitched at the foot of the dune, and the two shadowy figures guarding its entrance.

"You mustn't be nervous, little cub," said Abundita, putting her arms around Whisp.

The fourteen-year-old kept quiet. She suddenly felt very much like a cub. She had still been one the last time her dearly departed parents had hugged her like this.

"Tsunami!" Abundita called out.

A diminutive blue fennec emerged from the tent. The jackal beckoned him to the foot of the dune.

"Go to Tsunami, little cub," cooed Abundita, "He will take you to my brother."

"Yes, my…th-thank you," said Whisp, reluctantly leaving the jackal's embrace.

She clutched the shard of ruby dangling around her neck as she descended the steep dune. She could feel the unerring glares of the tent guards watching every clumsy step she took. How could she find them so much more intimidating than her master's overseers? Maybe it was the enormous glaives they were both holding.

The mousy fennec greeted her with a bow and promptly spun around. It took Whisp a moment to realize she was supposed to follow. She heard Abundita chuckle from on high.

Inside the tent, she found a black jackal sitting upon a woven rug, embroidered with what looked like the face of a scarlet elephant. A linen sarong covered his crossed legs. His scar-ridden chest was bare. A faceted ruby in his right eye socket reflected the dancing flames of the candles surrounding him.

"Greetings, little cub," said Infinite.

Whisp instinctively prostrated herself before the jackal, squeezing her ruby amulet all the tighter.

"Why do you bow, little cub?" demanded Infinite, "Do I look like Ekkletos to you?"

The she-wolf haltingly lifted her head, though not high to meet the jackal's bejeweled gaze.

"Better. You are no slave here, little cub."

Whisp nodded as she slowly shifted to a kneeling position. It was one thing for these jackals to keep saying that. It was quite another thing for her to believe it. She'd never not been a slave.

"Please stop that," she said meekly, "I'm not a 'little cub'."

"Strange. You have the makings of a—"

Infinite stopped short. His left eye widened as Whisp pulled her baggy tunic taut around her waist, revealing a bulge around her midriff. Gnawing her lip, she finally made eye contact with the jackal. His ruby eye seemed to twinkle in understanding.

"Is that what brings you to us, girl?"

Whisp nodded, letting go of her tunic.

"How will you do what needs to be done?"

"I'll…I'm to be taken out of the fields soon. My master, he—"

"Do not give that addled flittermouse the honor of his title, girl!" snapped Infinite, "But do go on."

"My…uh, Gordian keeps anyone expecting cubs in the big house."

The jackal broke out in a grin.

"What a cunning young creature Ekkletos has placed before me," he mused, "Fetch it, Tsunami."

"Yes, my lord," mumbled the fennec, making a beeline for a chest at the back of the tent.

The attendant gingerly lifted a red lacquered strongbox out of the chest and placed it before Whisp. The she-wolf squinted at the container's detailing in the candlelight. She could make out what Abundita had taught her to recognize as the tusks and winding trunk of an elephant.

"May Ekkletos guide your blade, little cub," intoned Infinite.

жЖж

"My prince?" boomed a voice through the cabin door, accompanied by the dull thud of wood striking wood.

Zoë awoke first. She twisted in Miles's embrace, bringing her muzzle to rest upon his chest.

"Did you hear that?" she murmured.

"How could I not?" groaned Miles, eyes still shut.

The vixen snorted softly. She went to move, but Miles held onto her.

"I'll go," he said.

"Are you sure, my…Miles?"

"It's me he's asking for," said the fox, "Besides, don't you do enough around here?"

Zoë giggled as her ear was nuzzled. They kissed, then she hunkered under the layers of blankets while Miles got up. The vixen quietly watched the Prince of Cambria stretch his arms and tails. Her heart skipped a beat as he wrapped himself in just a cloak, foregoing his tunic. She knew a signal of intent when she saw one.

Miles trudged over and heaved open the cabin door, revealing a grizzled red fox in a faded blue tunic, leaning on a quarterstaff.

"Yes, Errol?"

"Forgive the intrusion, my prince," said the visitor.

He went to bow. Miles caught him by the shoulder.

"Just speak your piece, old friend," said the younger fox.

Errol smiled bashfully as he straightened.

"A rider just came in from Cilgarren, my prince. King Furlong sends word he will arrive a day sooner than planned."

Miles hung his head, letting out a heavy sigh.

"Of course he changed his plans," he muttered.

Errol cringed sheepishly. "Not to press you, my prince, but does this mean—"

"We'll be leaving this morning?" said Miles, "I suppose we'll have to. We couldn't possibly be late back for His Royal Flightiness."

The grizzled fox had to feign a cough to keep from laughing out loud.

"Should I wake the others, my prince?" he asked, having composed himself.

"If you can."

Errol bowed and hurried away. Miles kicked the cabin door as hard as he dared, then threw off his cloak in a huff.

"What's happened, Miles?" asked Zoë, sitting up in bed.

The prince plodded over and sat on her side of the bed.

"Just my father being my father," he said wearily, "We're, uh, going to have to leave this morning. I'm really sorry, Zoë."

The vixen crawled out from under the covers and across the bed, perching her chin on his shoulder.

"Don't be sorry," she cooed, "Last night was wonderful."

Miles smiled weakly

"I was rather hoping tonight would be, too," he murmured.

Zoë nuzzled her lover's cheek, then kissed it. "There'll be more nights when you're back."

"Yeah," said Miles glumly, "Maybe in the lodge."

The vixen wrinkled her nose. "You prefer it out here?"

"It's a lot quieter out here."

"And colder."

"It wasn't last night."

Zoë snickered. "Go get dressed already…my prince."

Get dressed they did. Miles, in a green velvet tunic hemmed with gold brocade. Zoë, in a maroon wool dress. She held his broadsword while he buckled on his plaited leather swordbelt.

"Here you go," she said, handing him the weapon.

The vixen went to pick up his discarded cloak, but Miles grabbed her hand and hauled her out of the door. They left behind the squat log cabin, intended to accommodate slaves, and started towards the royal hunting lodge, which was essentially a much grander log cabin.

While crossing the hilltop clearing, they passed by a vista of the Jade Forest's treetops, bathed in the first light of dawn. Zoë would've liked them to stop and take in the view, but propriety prevented it. Miles wasn't technically her master, but she was still a slave of the royal household. She was only prepared to push her luck so far, at least outside of his bedchamber at Cilgarren.

Inside the hunting lodge, they found Errol in the communal area, sitting on one of several benches arranged around a shallow firepit. A russet-furred badger sat beside him, hard at work restringing a bow. The other benches were empty.

"Where are the others?" asked Miles.

"Where do you think?" replied the badger.

Zoë almost winced at Styx's brusqueness. Given the princess's penchant for simple sackcloth garments, it was easy to forget she too was royalty. She could be as terse as she liked with the prince.

"I did try knocking, my prince," said Errol, "Several times, in fact."

"Can you hear that?" said Styx, looking up from her bow.

The three foxes pricked their ears. They didn't hear a sound.

"That's the quietest it's been since you two…retired," said the badger.

Zoë blinked. It hadn't been long after sunset when they made for the cabin.

"Well, Sonic's the one always whining about never getting anywhere fast enough," said Miles, "C'mon, Zoë."

The vixen suddenly herself marching towards the second of three doors on the far side of the lodge.

"Miles, are you su—"

The prince kicked open the door to the bedchamber usually reserved for his father, King Furlong. As they entered, a red vixen sprang out of the vast bed, brandishing a dagger, wearing nothing but a vicious scowl.

"Good morning, Captain," said Miles levelly.

The nonplussed vixen promptly dropped her dagger and snatched a blanket off the bed where Sonic still lay snoring.

"Good…morning, my prince," said Fiona, giving a perfunctory bow, "What's going on?"

"Change of plans," replied Miles, "We need to head for Mount Scathach as soon as possible."

"Oh," uttered the vixen, casting a glance at the hedgehog, "That…might be a problem."

The prince smiled impishly. "You just leave him to us."

Once Fiona had gathered her belongings and excused herself, Miles invited Styx and Errol into the bedchamber. They joined him and Zoë in taking up positions along what had been Fiona's side of the bed.

"3…2…1."

The foursome tilted the wooden bedframe until they heard a thud on the other side. They lowered the bed to find Sonic face-down on the floorboards. The snoring continued.

"How much did he drink last night?" Miles wondered aloud.

"I seem to recall there being six kegs," said Errol.

"We shared one," said Styx, "Those two shared the rest."

Zoë's eyes widened. "That's…a lot of mead."

"And it'd all be fine it wasn't for my—"

Miles stopped short as a hand appeared on his shoulder.

"If I may, my prince," said Errol, gently steering the younger fox away from Zoe and Styx, "Before you curse your father in his own bedchamber."

Miles sighed. "Thank you, old friend."

"It's nothing, my prince," said the grizzled fox, "Look, I understand you had a fairly…clear idea of how you hoped to spend today, and, well, I dare say Princess Styx and I can handle Prince Sonic, should you and Zoë wish to…"

Miles turned to look at Errol. "You…won't mind, old friend?"

"Have I ever, my prince?"

"Not that you've said."

"So go," whispered Errol, prodding the prince with his quarterstaff.

Staggering her way back inside the lodge, having immersed her head in a water trough, the bleary-eyed Fiona had to throw herself clear of Miles and Zoë as they came scampering out of the royal bedchamber, hand in hand.

In spite of the inconvenience — and her pounding headache — the Captain of the Jade Forest Company couldn't help but smile.

жЖж

"Wake up, my lord!"

There was a resounding clank as Blaze kicked the sleeping Knuxahuatl. His armor negated the blow, but the yowl was enough to rouse him. He opened his eyes to find the cat standing over him, battleaxe in hand. Its double-headed blade and its carrier's iron armor both gleamed in the orange sunrise.

"What?" he grunted.

"Someone approaches," said Blaze, thrusting a gauntleted finger towards the east.

The echidna tried to jump to his feet, forgetting his own armor. The cat heaved him upright.

"Thank you," he muttered as he looked eastwards.

Squinting into the sunrise, he saw a lone rider galloping across the prairie. Telltale plaited quills streaked out behind them. Knuxahuatl snatched up his flanged maces.

"Wake Shadow, princess," he snapped, pulling down his helmet's visor.

"Yes, my lord," said Blaze, yanking down her own visor.

"No need," grumbled a gravelly voice.

The echidna and cat turned to see the ironclad hedgehog crawling out of his tent, face already hidden behind the grille of his visor.

"What's going on?" he asked, awkwardly getting to feet.

"We've been found," said Knuxahuatl.

"Who by?"

"A Reaver."

"A Reaver?" echoed Shadow.

The echidna nodded stiffly.

"From Laputa. They patrol the prairies."

"What do we do, my lord?" asked Blaze, sounding a note of panic.

Knuxahuatl looked eastwards again. "We stand our ground."

Shadow drew his broadsword and trudged over to join his fellow emissaries. Together, they watched the galloping Reaver grow from a distant silhouette to a spear-toting coral-furred echidna astride a white horse.

"I thought Arkadians didn't wear armor," said Shadow.

"We…we don't," said Knuxahuatl.

The approaching rider told a different story. A boiled-leather cuirass encased their torso, faulds flapped about their hips, and a gleaming chainmail bandanna covered much of their face. They were no Agnian knight, but it was more armor than Knuxahuatl had seen another echidna wear before.

"They aren't slowing down, my lords," said Blaze shakily.

"She's right," said Shadow levelly, "I'll yoke the horses—"

"Don't!" snapped Knuxahuatl.

"Why not?" growled the hedgehog.

"That spear will be in a horse's neck the moment you turn around. Trust me, Erinian."

With that, the rubicund echidna held out his maces, then flung them into the knee-high grass. Without a moment's hesitation, Blaze threw down her battleaxe. After a considerable amount of hesitation, Shadow did the same with his broadsword.

The Reaver's galloping horse almost instantly slowed to a canter. It eventually stopped ten paces from the emissaries. The coral-furred echidna pulled down their chainmail bandanna.

"Xhade?" breathed Knuxahuatl, pulling up his visor.

The Reaver's eyes widened. "You?"

Shadow hastily retrieved his broadsword as the rider jumped down from her horse. He tensed as she strode forward. Blaze stepped back, avoiding the blade of the spear that landed by her feet. Shadow relaxed as he watched Xhade throw her arms around Knuxahuatl.

"What are you wearing?" she said, ending the embrace.

"What are you wearing?" countered Knuxahuatl, looking her up and down, "And what are you doing out here?"

"Where else should a Reaver be?"

"You're still just a Reaver?"

Xhade curled her lip. She snatched up his maces and handed them to him.

"I presume these two aren't here to ransom you?" she said, picking up her spear.

"No," said Knuxahuatl curtly.

"Ah, so you're working for that wine-swilling flittermouse now. Has she sent you to beg for emeralds?"

"Queen Rouge's tidings are for the king's ears."

Xhade scoffed. "What makes you think Tazumal will even let you across the water?"

Knuxahuatl's eyes narrowed.

"Permit me to introduce Princess Blaze of Agnia," he proclaimed.

Xhade's gaze snapped to the bemused cat.

"Pr-princess, you say?" she breathed, "Of Agnia?"

"That's right, my lady," said Blaze meekly.

She nearly fumbled her battleaxe as the Reaver suddenly dropped to one knee.

"On behalf of King Iximche, I welcome you to Arkadia, Princess of Agnia," said Xhade, head bowed, "It would be my honor to personally escort you to Laputa."

Shadow belatedly lifted his visor. Blaze looked utterly bewildered by the sudden show of reverence she was receiving. Meanwhile, a satisfied smile played on Knuxahuatl's lips.

"I shall ready your chariot, my princess," said the hedgehog, sheathing his broadsword.