25. The Promise
"Why is everyone so quiet?" asked Whisp, looking around the slave dormitory inside her master Gordian's longhouse.
She was lying on the floor, propped up by a rolled-up futon, surrounded by pregnant she-wolves. None of them were talking.
"Hush, little one," said Tenebris, gently stroking the golden wolf's tender belly, "It's still very early."
The fourteen-year-old eyed the swarthy hyena warily. "But…it's so quiet."
When her friend Edda had been in this position, none of the other slaves would shut up. Why was it different for her?
Just then, a pain exploded in the pit of Whisp's stomach. She squirmed as the agony lanced through her lower body.
"Wh-what was that?" she squeaked, clutching her belly.
"Perfectly natural, little one," cooed Tenebris, patting the wolf's hands.
"You mean…like the spill?" asked Whisp.
She'd been helping in the kitchen when someone had seemingly spilled water on her feet, but no one had.
"Are you sure?"
The hyena matriarch smiled patiently. Several of the mercenaries in Gordian's employ were her own children, as Whisp well knew.
"Try to relax, little one. This is only the—"
"Whispy!"
The fourteen-year-old's head shot up. Her jaw sagged. A skinny brown wolf stood in the dormitory's doorway.
"Gao?" she squeaked.
He swooped to her side, clasping her left hand. "We came as quick as we could! Is it happening? Is it really time?"
Whisp looked at her gibbering mate through a glaze of tears.
"We?" she said.
"Hello, Whisp."
The golden wolf's ears pricked as she looked back at the door. A pink bat stood in the doorway with a sheep's fleece draped over one shoulder.
"Macrina?" breathed Whisp.
The bat had been her overseer all her life. For the last six years, she'd been much more than that to her and Gao, after their parents ran away to join the jackals.
"Gao, take this," said Macrina, holding the fleece out by its tail.
The brown wolf ran to fetch the woolly pelt. Laying it on the floor beside Whisp, he went to help her move.
"Gao, wait," she whispered, "I'm…sorry."
Her mate blinked. "Huh? What for, Whispy?"
"We really aren't going to keep our promise," she sniffled under her breath, "I'm really sorry—"
"You tried your best," Gao cut in, clutching her hands.
He cast a furtive glance towards Tenebris, who was deep in conversation with Macrina.
"It's not your fault those smelly hyenas got in your way."
Whisp bit her quivering lower lip. "But still—"
"We'll be alright, Whispy. You and me and the baby and the sheep and Macrina there to help us…"
He leaned in closer, touching his nose to hers.
"…and no horrible hedgehogs around to scare us."
жЖж
"Some squire I would've been," muttered Shadow, examining the helmet he'd supposedly just polished.
The ridged ironwork was covered in smudges. Silver would've been appalled.
Fact was, he hadn't cleaned his own armor in years. Indeed, whenever he and Amaranth returned home from campaign, it had been routine for Silver to sit on his father's knee and chatter away while he buffed his parents' battlewear.
Smudging a spot on the helmet that'd previously been clean, Shadow sighed and looked up. The rest of Knuxahuatl's armor was scattered around him on the bedchamber floor, still caked in dirt from their journey to Arkadia. Silver would've probably cleaned it all by now.
Knuxahuatl had quietly offered to have Amaranth help him — she was outside helping Xhade weave a wicker fence for the yard — but Shadow had declined. If she were in here, he would've been too distracted controlling his temper to polish anything.
Two days on from their tearful exchange in the smithy's yard, it was as if their reunion in that dank hut had never happened. He was as angry with her as when she'd first confessed. Now he knew he wasn't destined to die, those warm words of forgiveness he'd spewed felt meaningless.
Knuxahuatl could talk all he liked about how this wouldn't last forever. Yet, even if Xhade was already with child, and assuming she was spared all of the many difficulties Amaranth had faced, it would still take a year. A year of Silver's dwindling childhood in which he'd be forced to watch his boy grow up from a distance.
"Shadow?"
The hedgehog looked up to see Xhade ducking through the bedchamber's curtain.
"How are you…getting on?" she asked, casting her eye over the scattered pieces of dirty armor.
"I'm sorry, mistress," mumbled Shadow, "It's been a while since—"
"This looks clean enough," said Xhade, plucking the helmet out of his lap.
She deposited the helmet in the open chest beside him whilst he reached for a pauldron. He recoiled as a vermilion foot stamped on the piece of shoulder-armor.
"Amie's helping me with some carving," said Xhade, eyeing her slave's sackcloth kilt, "The sooner that loom's built, the sooner I can make you two some proper clothes, so come help."
Shadow's gaze lingered on the pauldron. "Mistress, the armor—"
"That Guardian can clean his own damned armor!" spat Xhade, kicking the piece of shoulder-armor across the bedchamber, "It's been two days, Shadow. How long do you plan on treating her this way?"
"Please, mistress—"
The hedgehog flinched as the echidna dropped to her haunches.
"Fine. She made a mistake," said Xhade, "She told me she's said she's sorry. When will you tell her you're sorry?"
Shadow blinked. "Mistress?"
"I could still be patrolling the prairies if I hadn't confronted my fath…I mean, Iximche like I did. I can't say I regret it, but that doesn't mean it wasn't avoidable. Just like what you did."
The hedgehog's nostrils flared as he clenched his fists. Seeing the echidna look suddenly wary, he promptly bowed his head.
"Forgive me, mistress," he mumbled, bowing his head.
Xhade sighed. "There was no need for you to kill that cat."
"She was hurting Amie—"
"She was pulling her fur!" snapped the echidna, "From what Knuxahuatl tells me, she certainly doesn't deserve to be mourned the way Blaze is doing so, but Shadow…you're treating like Amie she was the one who put that sword in your hand."
A vermilion hand patted his shoulder.
"Please, stop punishing her. You're all she has."
Shadow's shoulders sagged.
"As you wish, mistress."
"Now, come help with this carving. Amie says you were always better with a blade than—"
"Shadow!" wailed Amaranth from out in the communal area.
The slave almost knocked his mistress on her backside as he clambered to his feet. Yanking back the bedchamber's curtain, he saw his wife sitting by the shallow firepit in the middle of the roundhouse. Her trembling hand pointed towards the dwelling's entrance.
"Master?" breathed Shadow.
Knuxahuatl stood in the doorway, dressed in sarong and breastplate, holding the hand of a very confused Silver.
"Pa?"
Paralyzed by disbelief, Shadow could only watch as his master and son approached him.
"H-how, master?" he choked out.
"I went to see the queen," said Knuxahuatl, "We came to an agreement."
"The emerald?" said Xhade, peering over Shadow's shoulder.
The scarlet echidna glanced down at his armored chest. The gold segmented necklace was gone.
"This is what Princess Tikal would want," he said, gently prodding Silver towards his father.
Shadow slumped to his knees, took the albino hedgehog in his arms, then broke down.
"What's wrong, Pa?" whispered Silver, tentatively putting his arms around the black hedgehog, "Don't be sad. You'll make me want to cry, too."
Meanwhile, Xhade weaved her way around the embracing Erinians.
"Mistress?"
She turned round to find Amaranth standing behind her.
"Is this just for tonight—"
"It'll be every night," Knuxahuatl cut in, "He'll still be working in the forge. You're to ensure he's there each day before dawn, but he'll sleep here now."
Amaranth covered her mouth.
"Th-thank you, master," she sniffled.
Xhade smiled meekly. "I'm only sorry we couldn't do more."
"More, mistress?" said the cerise hedgehog, "What more could you possibly—"
"I asked the queen to give us the boy, but Princess Blaze was…vocal in her opposition," said Knuxahuatl, "He still belongs to Rufus."
"We'll try again, though," added Xhade, "I promise."
With that, the echidnas drifted away towards the bedchamber, leaving Amaranth to watch Shadow and Silver sobbing on each other's shoulders. Hugging her chest, she hung back, letting their tears run their course.
"Ow!" yelped Silver, catching a quill on Shadow's chain-link necklace.
He drew back, gawking at the broadsword hilt hanging from his father's neck.
"Wh-what's that, Pa?"
"A gift from the queen," said Shadow, offering Silver the hilt to hold.
"It's not a very nice gift," muttered the ten-year-old, thoughtfully running a finger along the hilt's cross-guard, "Ma?"
Amaranth went to crouch beside her husband.
"Yes, Silver?" she asked, cautiously leaning her head on Shadow's shoulder. She sensed no resistance.
"The queen's not going to make you a gift too, is she? Your big hammer's really heavy."
Just then, Amaranth felt Shadow vibrate with a stifled chuckle. She couldn't help but smile.
"Honestly, Silver, I'm not sure what's going to happen to that hammer."
жЖж
"Justin!" snapped Percilla, sitting up on her futon, "Would you put that thing down?"
The lilac bandicoot watched as a cyan beaver swung Amaranth's iron-headed war-hammer, narrowly missing a tentpole.
"That's an order!"
The beaver froze, then sheepishly placed the weapon on the chest containing Amaranth's armor.
"Sorry," he muttered, "I've never understood how she manages to use that thing."
"Well, she does," said Percilla, leaning back on her elbows, "Or did, anyway."
Justin grimaced. "Just how screwed is she?"
"As screwed as we'll be if Shadow catches us squatting in his tent," said the bandicoot, "This is the last night I'm spending in here, just so we're clear."
"You're sure the queen's going to send him, then?" asked the beaver, removing his tunic.
"I'm counting on it. Do you have any idea how sick I am of begging scraps of that bat? Shadow ought to be able to wring some sheep out of him."
"We could always just poach one," said Justin, joining his lover under the futon's blankets, "He'll hardly notice."
"You really don't know Gordian, do you?" scoffed Percilla, "Besides, we're here to fight jackals, not act like them."
"What jackals?" said the beaver, mounting the bandicoot, "I've not seen any."
"Do you need me to explain the concept of deterrence?" said Percilla, wriggling beneath him.
"The only thing I need right now is you," cooed Justin, dipping his head.
The sound of tearing canvas interrupted their kiss. Two yipping fennecs burst into the tent and fell upon the lovers with ruby-encrusted swords.