The Imperial Conquest (Closed for now)

[dirtybusiness]

It was over. Amara couldn't bring herself to grasp the impact of what had happened. For over a thousand years, her people had defended this sacred land from outsiders, gladly sacrificing their lives if it meant even one tree could be saved. When they realized that they had fallen into a trap laid by the enemy, her men had jostled her to the center of the pack, protecting her to the last. As the last Kanta, consort and warrior of the spirits, she was second only to the trees... and the trees were revered as earthly hosts for the spirits. Just as her people would throw themselves on the end of a sword for a sapling, so would they protect her.

The vast ring of men that surrounded them parted for one man; this man strode purposefully towards them and came to an abrupt halt before them, staring at each face for several moments as though he wanted to commit her people to memory so he could kill them again in the afterlife.

"Yarthuga!" He spat at their feet, and swung an arm in a wide arch that included each and every one of her men. His dark eyes were cold fire - lesser people would have fallen to their knees in fear and supplication at just one glance from that shrewd, hateful look. However, the Yarthuga were proud, and they only drew themselves up taller, eleven pairs of eyes holding and returning that dread gaze.

"You heathens could have surrendered. You could have forfeited a portion of your forests and kept your lives - the lives of your children! You would have become the Emperor's people, with the entire Imperial Army to protect you!" Amara felt the stiffening of hard bodies on all sides, indignation lighting fire to their veins at the General's insult. Surrender the spirits to any man just to live another day? That was the way of cowards!

"Instead," he continued, his voice softening to a deadly pitch, "You opted to resist. Now look at you. You are all that's left of your people." He straightened sharply, standing at attention, and raked his cold gaze once more over each and every one of them. When his eyes touched hers, Amara jutted her chin slightly, meeting that cruel glare with a fire and intensity of her own.

"Spirit leader! Step forward, so you may witness what you have brought upon the last of your people! It is your fault they will die on their hands and knees like the dogs you are - your fault for leading them into a battle you had no chance of winning!"

Imperceptibly to the General, the circle tightened. To Amara, it meant there was practically no room to breathe, when just a moment ago there had simply been no room to move. Her men would not give up their Kanta until the last fell to the forest floor.

"Move aside." Pitching her husky voice low enough so that only her men could hear, she kept her eyes on the General. They went shock still for a moment, awareness of what she intended to do taking them by surprise. For a moment, no one moved. Her voice taking on an unmistakable ring of command, she repeated the order, and the men in front of her snapped one step to either side, straight as a ceremonial hair part.

Amara did not fail to notice the sudden slack in the General's jaw when she emerged from the center of the group, her head held high. Her men collapsed back into a tight knot the moment she was free of their midst, advancing steadily until she was standing mere inches away from the man. Her finely angled jaw was firmly set beneath sculpted cheekbones and a straight nose, her narrowed eyes the color of freshly forged steel.

She was tall and lean from years of sparring; swarthy skin wore the scars of previous battles, and her posture alone said she bore them with pride. Inky waist length hair was drawn back in a thick braid, woven with a single vine to symbolize her place among her people.

She wore the battle dress of the Kanta... that is to say, not very much. Limbs were sheathed from wrists to elbows and ankles to knees in hardened leather, her full breasts and wide hips swathed in blood splattered white fur. Every inch of exposed flesh was swirled and dotted with blue dye, ancient symbols drawing the spirits’ power for protection.

Before, she had spoken in her native tongue. Now, as she addressed the General, she did so in his, expressing herself seamlessly and with that same hard ring of command.

"I am the last spirit leader of Yarthuga."

Her face bore no expression as she regarded him - then she spat at his feet, as he had done to theirs, jerking her head back up with such vehemence that several of his men edged closer, the tips of swords aimed at her menacingly. "Death is nothing compared to surrendering the spirits to our enemies. You will just have to finish the job if you want this land.”

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

General Lucian Castus surveryed the carnage of the battelfield with a cruel smile on his face. He was a large man in all accounts, 6'0 tall and an easy 230lbs. and his ego was on considerable size as well. Despite his size he was built like a bear and had the personality to match. His deep-set eyes were covered by large bushy eyebrows that looked like two caterpillars had climbed onto his forehead and become hopelessly stuck.

Reports came in of the battle status detailing the countless battles raging, up to date death counts on both sides and many other aspects detailing how everything on the ground was going. At first it looked to be an easy battle, simply run in, beat the enemy to the ground until they numbered too few to fight and force them into an early surrender. From the get go however it look as though that wasnt going to happen. Day after day he heard his commanders in the field reporting the losses from the endless raids on the part of the Yarthuga.

He wasn't one who particularly liked to follow the rules if there was an easier way, but in order to keep his high rank he had to. After about a week though, he'd had enough. He looked at a large stack of papers detailing all the non-combat deaths. Accidents during weapon inspections, mess hall raids, barracks burnt down in the middle of the night, ambushed during the troops showers, missing personel, and the list kept going on and on. He read through about five of the reports before launching the lot of them across the command tent and slamming his fists into the now clear table. He knew that not one of these deaths was circumstancal. Every one of them was the work of underhanded, cheap, and dirty tactics from the enemy. In a way, he was glad and a sadistic smile came to his face. These tactics showed the enemies despreteness, their unwillingness to commit full stregnth to the battle, both Castus took as a true sign they were winning. Still, winning or not, too many lives had been spent trying to batter them down the old way; it was time to take a new approach, fight fire with fire, trick with trick, and tactic with tactic.

He called all ranking officers to a special meeting in a private location and outlined his new plans. The lower officers, knowing about the Generals hot headedness and unwillingness to take no for an answer once his mind got set, immediatly took to his strategy, wanting revenge themselves for the high body count. From them on it was smooth sailing. With the new tactics they caught the Yarthuga off guard and were able to whittle them down to smaller camps here and there until only one was left.

The final report came in that they had captured the last living enemy commandar and his unit. Castus was unable and unwilling to hold back the arrogant laugh which came from his very soul and prepared to meet his counterpart. Everywhere he went the living soldiers had salutes, comments and the like for their General, they knew that soon the final blow would be dealt, and the battle would be theres.

He finally came to the last group of Yarthuga left alive and surveryed them with nothing less than sheer hatred. He ordered their commandar forward and was shocked, to say the least, at finding out that a women of all people, commanded them. He his it well, not wanting to falter and give his foes the pride of knowing how they affected him, the Great Dokkaran General Lucian Castus. He regained his composure just as she was inches from him.

Heh....so you're the commandar are you? I could kill you here and now, ending this little skirmish once and for all, but where's the fun in that? I have bigger plans for you and your little band of minstrils.

Another hefty laugh roared from his lips

Come now, you can't honestly think I'd just be content with taking your head and leaving? Not after all that you put me and my men through. I plan to break you, to make you suffer to beyond normal limits of sanity.

Castus reached out, grabbed her by the throat and pulled her closer.

By the time I'm through with you, you'll wish I had killed you here today.

 

[dirtybusiness]

"Heh....so you're the commandar are you? I could kill you here and now, ending this little skirmish once and for all, but where's the fun in that? I have bigger plans for you and your little band of minstrils."

Amara regarded the enemy leader with a cool, calculating stare. One of the reasons she had survived thus far was her ability to keep her wits about her, a firm grip held at almost all times on her situation and what aspects were within her control.

His men had disarmed her and hers, going so far as to check beneath her ceremonial garb and her fighters' more concealing armor of leather and bone. When one man had spent too much time beneath the white fur that hid everything between hips and upper thigh, she had snapped his neck. It was not done because she felt especially offended, but to prove a point to these men that the Yarthuga were not dependent on weapons to be dangerous. The point had been taken, and now that she was standing so close to their beloved General, she had close to fourty weapons pointing at her from very close range.

She stood loose but ready for anything, her ears peeled to the sounds of the shuffling men even as her eyes were fixated on the leader of the Dokkaran army. Taking her studious silence as a passive protest, he continued mockingly.


"Come now, you can't honestly think I'd just be content with taking your head and leaving? Not after all that you put me and my men through. I plan to break you, to make you suffer to beyond normal limits of sanity."

"We were glad to make you suffer. Our only regret is that we did not have another 400 warriors to kill off the rest of you." If it weren't for the actual words themselves, she would have been rather pleasant to listen to, her voice so low and throaty as to be sultry. "You came here with 15,000 men, did you not? You seem to be missing about... 6,000 or so." The joy of striking the outer perimeters without any discernable pattern was that one man could take down between ten and twenty before falling to his enemy.

The Yarthuga were extremely good at what they did.

When he grabbed her by the throat, her men showed more reaction than she did, ten voices rising as one in her native tongue.

"By the time I'm through with you, you'll wish I had killed you here today."
"If you are wise, you will kill us here today."

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Well this was unexpected, it seemed at first that this would be an easy task but Castus was more than glad that there appeared to be some fight still left in her.

So, the little wench has some spunk does she? She's quite a looker ain't she boys a few hoots and hollers of agreement could be heard, such a friendly voice, a killer personality.....And here I thought this was going to be another boring, run-of-the-mill encounter. This should be interesting after-all. What is your name?

She mentioned the troops with a satisfying tone, probably hoping to make the General lose his temper. Castus, however, knew his situation and the position she was in. He knew the numbers, and thats all he needed.

Please, you think I care about losing one-third of my men? Even if you were to have your 400 additional men you'd get what.....maybe 2,000 more casualties once we changed our strategy to match yours? Please, we're way out of your league.

As he said this one of his men informed him of the fate of the unfortunate soldier stupid enough to linger a little too long under her clothes. He gave a slight laugh, silently asking the fallen man if what he saw was worth his life? He'd never get an answer, but it was interesting to wonder, and he made a mental note to return to the question later.

"If you are wise, you will kill us here today."

Her words were preceded by native shouts of anger from the others when he touched grabbed her throat. Noting her words, it was time to avenge the dead soldier.

I said I wouldn't kill you now. Them however......

He released her and walked towards two of the other captives. Grabbing one by the throat he lifted the man clear into the air, bringing him eye level, using his raw, bear like power, and watching him struggle to break free. He turned to face Amara with the man still in his grasp. Never breaking eye contact he squeezed, gripping tighter and tighter until the body showed no signs of life in it. With a final satisfying snap he let a wry smile come to his lips, and tossed the fresh corpse to his soldiers.

Burn his with the rest of the his kind said with a sneer

Returning to the second he snapped a branch from a tree, bringing it down like a hammer against the captives shoulders. First one then the other, breaking the collarbone on both sides, rendering his arms useless. Not feeling like killing another worthless savage he left the armless man to wollow in pain and returned to Amara intrested to see how she would react.

 

[dirtybusiness]

"So, the little wench has some spunk does she? She's quite a looker ain't she? Such a friendly voice, a killer personality.....And here I thought this was going to be another boring, run-of-the-mill encounter. This should be interesting after-all. What is your name?"

"It will never be dirtied by the likes of your lips, stranger." That 'friendly' voice
dropped to a pestilential hiss, his next words bringing a cruel smile to her lips.

"Please, you think I care about losing one-third of my men? Even if you were to have your 400 additional men you'd get what.....maybe 2,000 more casualties once we changed our strategy to match yours? Please, we're way out of your league."

The moment he released her, her arms were grabbed by two of his personal guard, her legs secured between each of their own. A third grasped her by braid with one hand and chin with the other, giving her no alternative but to watch as he approached the last of her people, grasping one by the throat and lifting him as though he were but a child.

"Bantak..." She whispered the man's name, and though the General sought her eyes as he slowly squeezed the life from Bantak, she did not tear her gaze away from her warrior. When at last he slumped, lifeless in the General's grip, the remaining nine men each pressed a coiled fist to the center of their chests, chanting in their native tongue. Amara's arm had moved, instinctively towards her own chest, but the man who held her took the sudden jerk as a sign of hostility. Twisting her arm at the elbow and shoulder painfully, she sank her teeth into the inside of her cheek, eyes smarting as she closed them.

The snapping of a branch forced her eyes to open, and she watched the General beat the smaller, darker warrior, the sharp snaps of sturdy bone resounding solidly in her ears.

Fandon, his dark flesh so blanched of color that he resembled the underbelly of a river fish, sank back into the knot of men, their tight formation opening and shifting so that he could be placed into their center. Tearing her eyes away from them, she met the General's gaze solidly, tasting blood from the vicious workings of her teeth.

If it weren't for the fact that her steel grey eyes were suspiciously bright, her drawn features would have seemed bleak and expressionless.

"You are a fool, slave of the empire. You and your men are only greedy children who were not taught any better. Your numbers will not save you forever. Consider yourself honored, as we do, that the spirts chose us to teach you that lesson."

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Aww...not in a sharing mood today? Well, I guess I just have to keep talking. It's a good thing I like the sound of my own voice.

As he was killing the one of the captured...he nocited the motion of Amara, putting her hand over her chest. A quick glace at the rest revealed they too were doing the same, speaking something...quite possibly a prayer for their fallen comerade. He snapped the branch, knowing full well it'd get her attention. He wanted her attention, wanted her to witness her friends and bodyguards die.

Let her go....she is no threat to us, not while I'm here. I refuse to let some tree huggers take my life.

The men followed orders, although very hesitant. The one who had wrenched her arm refused to let go and recieved a backhand for his efforts. The rest of the men had to be shocked that not only would the Castus assualt his own soldier, but that he would let someone who he KNEW was dangerous stand and be allowed to move of her own free will, without any protection between the two of them. They respected his orders none the less, trusting their Generals words, yet keeping their hands on the hilts of their swords just in case.

Heh...you show respect for your dead....finally a quality I find admirable in you people. The men under my command are my family.....hand picked by me to achieve more then they could ever hope to dream of.....and I dont take kindly to the tactics of cowards stripping them of an honorable death.

He said these last comments he came within inches of her, returning her glare and matching it's intensity. He then walked past her, making them now back to back as he surveryed what parts of the battlefield could be seen from his position.

Her outburst had caught him completely off guard. Did she honestly think that this battle had taught them a lesson about numbers? If not for the amount of troops he'd brought it's highly possible that the roles would be reversed, he'd be on his knees before an angry rebel force preparing to lose his head. The very thought caused his hand to move to the collar of his uniform to make sure it was still there. Regaining his composure, but refusing to turn away from what he saw. He spoke in a strong, commanding tone, but didn't even bother to try and cover the hint of dissappointment and outright tiredness in his voice that had replaced the arrogance but maintained some of the anger and lost none of the passion.

Numbers won't save us? We anhilliated this whole land of yours losing only a fraction of our force. I'd say that the numbers worked very well in our favor. No lessons can be gained from this, you've only become another example of what happens to those who refuse peace. You denied our request, which would've kept the peace, kept your people alive. You risked everything for the forest, but you thought little of the consequences. Now that we've won the war, we'll take the whole land for ourselves instead of the small portion we asked for. You fought to save a small piece, but doomed everything in the process. Plain and Simple.....you gambeled and lost.

sigh Such wasted lives.

He whispered the last sentance to himself.

 

[dirtybusiness]

Amara paid close attention to the General and his men, especially focusing on the brief skirmish when the man who had twisted her arm showed reluctance to let her go. She also noticed the way the men stared at him once she was released, their open admiration tempered by their confusion at his orders.

"Heh...you show respect for your dead....finally a quality I find admirable in you people. The men under my command are my family.....hand picked by me to achieve more then they could ever hope to dream of.....and I dont take kindly to the tactics of cowards stripping them of an honorable death."

A cold glare preceded her scathing response. "Honorable death? You wash the land like a disease, taking what you want and leaving the rest for dead. There is no higher purpose for your slaughter than greed." Sniffing haughtily, she spat again, wiping her mouth as though even the thought of him had tainted her saliva. "Your thieves and rapists were given better deaths than they deserved."

His back was turned to her own, though his words were loud enough to catch the attention of the scavenger birds that feasted on imperial and Yarthuga flesh alike, the abundance of battle always appealing to them.

"Numbers won't save us? We annihilated this whole land of yours losing only a fraction of our force. I'd say that the numbers worked very well in our favor. No lessons can be gained from this, you've only become another example of what happens to those who refuse peace. You denied our request, which would've kept the peace, kept your people alive. You risked everything for the forest, but you thought little of the consequences. Now that we've won the war, we'll take the whole land for ourselves instead of the small portion we asked for. You fought to save a small piece, but doomed everything in the process. Plain and Simple.....you gambled and lost."

"I would say that your ignorance surprises me, but it does not. Over a third of your men lost to my people. We were 400 strong - 500, if you included the children too small to grasp a weapon. I myself killed thirty of your men. Some of mine killed more, others less, but there is not one of us - living or dead - who did not take at least ten of your number from you."

She sneered at the look of bewilderment on the face of the man who had received a stinging reprimand from his general. "Thirty-one, I forgot about your friend."

Turning to face the General's back, and causing his men to scurry in closer, she folded her arms beneath her breasts, studying the back of his head. "I know we are uneducated, compared to the vast greatness of your people, but if my limited knowledge serves correctly, we have done better than even the spirits could have expected in our service to them."

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

He test was going fairly well. He had seen her resolve from the battle, her dedication and sense of honor from the simple motion not but ten minutes ago. Now, he wanted to see how daring she was. She was free to move as she pleased, free to attack him if she wished, even try to kill him. But would she do it? He was willing to bet his life she wouldn't....he laughed at the thought since that's probably what it would cost him if he was wrong.

Numbers are useless in the after math of a battle, all that truely matters is we won and you lost. What good is you're killing of thirty of my men if it ends in a defeat?

Is death in battle not honorable to you? No matter what you believe can you honestly say that dying for your cause, no matter how misguided is not honorable in and of itself?

He stood and reflected on everything. Her words, his words, the battle, so many things ran through his mind he zoned out and remained silent for a while as Amara was explaining how she thought the so-called spirits would be proud of her and her dead commerads. The buzzards began to swarm, ripping the flesh from the dead, turning the battlefield into a graveyard before his very eyes.

Even at her angry words towards his fallen men he gave a prayer thanking them for giving the ultimate sacrifice for their cause and for their empire. He remained quiet, unable to think of anything worth saying that wouldn't ruin the moment.

Several minutes later he let out a laugh like someone had just told him a joke.

Have you ever thought about the similarities between our two peoples? Before you answer, dont bother to give me the tired crap about us being nothing alike. Use your brain for the first time, it's there for a reason.

 

[dirtybusiness]

She did not bother to respond to his words of honor. Obviously, he knew nothing of it, or he would not have been so foolish as to ask her that question.

Her people may have employed tactics that made him and his men sick with rage, but that was simply the way that things were done. These forests had been free of opposition for over a thousand years, simply because it's protectors knew what had to be done and, more importantly, because they had the resolve to do it.

Each and every one of them dedicated their life to the spirits. To end that service in one final act of sacrifice exalted them to a place beyond honor.

So instead of playing his game of let's-rephrase-the-question, she turned her back to him again and retraced her steps back to her men, one man moving to stop her before thinking better of it. He did have his orders, after all.

Also, Amara had been curious as to what freedom of movement she was allowed, and whether or not that freedom was also allowed to the last Yarthuga warriors.

Though four of them had been keeping a watchful eye on her the whole time, the other four were kneeling around Fandon, two laying hands on his rapidly swelling chest as their mouths moved silently, forming words of healing that needed no voice to go to the spirits. The third sat behind Fandon's head, holding it still on his knee, while the last tucked small, pungent leaves into mouth, wedging them between the back teeth.

Amara knew the plant by its scent. Though fatally poisonous to foraging beasts, it had a curious effect on humans - A tiny pinch would make the user giddy and woosey; a little more, and the forest seemed to spin and lurch around you. Too much, and the senses would be dulled to a near catatonic state.

It was used in ceremonies, to assist seer's with visions, and after battle, to relieve the pain of grievous wounds.

One of the many drawbacks of being a Kanta was that the Kumbuke leaves were strictly forbidden, regardless of how much pain he or she was in. The spiritual and battle leader could not afford to be mentally or spiritually inhibited.

Crouching at Fandon's feet, Amara sought out pressure points, trying to bring more immediate results as the two at his head urged him to chew.

The sound of laughter caused her to stiffen, and she stood slowly after murmuring to her men, dusting her palms together.

"Have you ever thought about the similarities between our two peoples? Before you answer, dont bother to give me the tired crap about us being nothing alike. Use your brain for the first time, it's there for a reason."

She balked at his words, her cool composure breaking to betray the shock he caused her. Before her mind could fully jump to consider the implications, she figuratively slammed her foot down - she would not even think about such rantings.

"I have played your game long enough. You have us, Slave of the Empire; now decide our fate. If you wait too long, we will force your hand."

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Castus turned back towards the group at the sound of Amara stomping her foot.

Well....I guess I was wrong about all sentiant beings having a brain after-all. Or could it be you don't wish to see what you know is there. No matter, in time you will learn to accept the fact that we're not as different as you might think.

With her last words he figured he'd get nothing further out of her at this time. He'd grown tired of the effect this place seemed to be having on him. However, one final test was in order.

What's wrong princess, not enjoying the conversation?he asked sarcastically

If you insist, then we'll do it your way.

He ordered his men to gather enough wood to build a strong cage. Something that would last until they could get back home, and something big enough for someone to stand in and have some freedom to move, even if it was only a few steps. Glad to have solid orders again, the men all moved out to complete their task while Castus stood watching the Yarthuga help the man he'd beaten with a branch for sport. Seeing that he was still breathing he felt the urge to comment.

Tough little bastard isn't he....good; woulda been a shame if he'd died after a basic attack like that.

Castus ordered some rope from one of the last men to leave, but didnt say what it was to be used for. A question popped into his head which he figured would pass the time until the cage was done. Knowing how eager his men would be to return home after a long journey he estimated it's take maybe an hour or two.

So tell me all powerful tree wench, how exactly to you plan on forcing my hand?

He stood ready to adjust to an attack if one came, and he kept his distance so as not to make it impossible to defend himself. He didnt really expect an answer, but thought he might as well ask....since he had nothing better to do and he sure as hell wasn't stupid enough to leave them alone or under the supervision of a small group of men while he was off with other useless things.

 

[dirtybusiness]

She had already made her choice, and most of his long winded speech fell on deliberately deaf ears. There was a snag in it that did grab her attention, however, causing her eyes to snap back to his own sharply.

"...No matter, in time you will learn to accept the fact that we're not as different as you might think."

She almost opened her mouth to ask him exactly what the void he meant by that, though seemed to think better of it when he continued on with a taunt.

"What's wrong princess, not enjoying the conversation? If you insist, then we'll do it your way."

She very nearly relaxed at his words. Death would come to them, the only thing that could free them from their lifelong service. There were too few of her ilk left to defend the forests properly; the spirits would understand that she longed only for death, and a place with her ancestors.

As though interrupting her from a pleasant dream, he began barking orders and instructing men on the specifics of a cage he wanted built.

If it was proof of their victory they wanted, heads of the Yarthuga would suffice. No need to build a cage unless...

He planned on taking one, or perhaps even all of them, as captives. Temporarily stunned into stillness by the dawning realization, she simply stared at him, unable to even think of a response as he rattled on about Fandon's toughness.

She did listen like a hawk to every order he continued to give to his men, glaring at him when his last order called for rope.

"So tell me, all powerful tree wench, how exactly you plan on forcing my hand?"

The paralyzation that had seized her gradually slackened its grip on her limbs, clarity returning to her mind.

"Brothers-in-Duty," she began softly in her native tongue, speaking over her shoulder to the men behind her. "Han, Kanta?"

"Our sacrifice will not be forgotten by the spirits."

Normally, this would have been echoed back to her, along with three strikes against their chest to represent Loyalty, Duty, and Honor, but something in her voice kept them from making such a loud and obvious display. Instead, they looked at each other grimly and shifted position, subtly preparing themselves for whatever was going to happen.

The brief communication lasted only two or three seconds, seeming little more than a pause to choose her answer.

"None of us are leaving this place alive. It matters not how I force your hand.. I could kill you, or one of your men; either way, it would achieve the same end."

The General's men who hadn't been sent on a fool's errand separated, the larger group squeezing in closer on her men as a smaller portion closed in around her.

Her stance before had been light and loose, as though she had been bored with the whole ordeal. It was the sudden transition from that neutral poise to lethal, feral grace that shocked them, buying her the scant instant she needed. Smoothly ducking beneath a hesitant sword arm, she grasped it's bearer's upper arm, fingers delving to the points on the softer underside that would render it useless. The moment she felt the muscles spasm, and then slacken, she dropped her hand and caught the hilt of the sword as it fell from his, gripping his hair with her other hand to bare his throat to its razored edge, resting it there almost casually.

Behind her, she could hear her men struggling against their captors. If the men who had guarded them were as easily distracted as the ones who circled in on her, they would likely be wielding the upper hand as well.

"Will this work, Slave?" His men darted glances between her and their General, waiting for his orders. They were shocked that she had actually done what she said she might do - cornered enemies usually did not foreshadow their intentions. The fact that she had only reinforced their opinion of the Yarthuga as a strange, reckless people, and that it was their sheer tenacious audacity that had kept them alive this far.

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Had he hit a nerve somewhere? He'd seen her reactions to his words thus far and had to say he was inpressed with the grace she used in creating a swift response, never seeming to move without a purpose. Now however, she gave a sharp movement, seeming to be caught off guard by his statement.

He didnt wait for a response however, and moved on.

As he mentioned doing things her way she relaxed, a serene calm coming over her. He didnt care, let her have her moment of peace, it may be the last she'll ever have......oh well. A smile came to his lips at the thought of this.

The mention of the cage seemed to shatter her calmness, replacing it with a look of shock....apparently she'd never considered that he meant to take at least her alive and a POW. He realized who he was dealing with and mentally hit himself for expecting something even close to intellegence from such things.

Seeing her most recent attepmt at a death glare he couldn't help but laugh, knowing he'd finally gained the upper hand.

"None of us are leaving this place alive. It matters not how I force your hand.. I could kill you, or one of your men; either way, it would achieve the same end."

So thats what you think is it? Well I hate to disappoint you, but I think even your primative brain can realize that I intend to leave this place with nothing less that a captive.....preferably you.

He had to admit, the attack on his men had taken him off guard. He'd anticipated that with the reduced guard they'd use the moment to attack him personally, eager to strike a decisive blow to their enemy. He never counted on they're motions to his men. Quickly he adjusted himself, trying to think of a way to keep his men alive. Maybe another direct challenge.....

Clapping his hands in amusement he slowly walked towards the Yarthuga warriors, so eager to die where they stood

Well done, well done. Although if you think that you're going to change my mind about the prisoner(s) then you're sorely mistaken. He was now only a foot away from her, with only the hostage between them.

Do not worry, remain calm and everything will be fine in due time.

He reached out and wrapped his hand half around the remaining exposed hilt, and half over hers to discourage any sudden moves. Looking towards the other two men who had mimicked her movements, yet had thusfar been unsuccesful in taking a hostage.

How much worth do you put on the stregnth and skills of those two? Would it even be worth my time to kill them myself?

 

[dirtybusiness]

Clapping his hands in amusement he slowly walked towards the Yarthuga warriors, so eager to die where they stood.

"Well done, well done. Although if you think that you're going to change my mind about the prisoner(s) then you're sorely mistaken." He closed the distance between them until only his soldier, now her hostage, stood between them. "Do not worry, remain calm and everything will be fine in due time."

"I am sorry, stranger, but we do not have any more time to give you." There was an unmistakable note of genuine regret in her voice, in the soft lilt of melancholy tenderness that made her words linger. The General, placing his hand over hers, would feel the subtle shift of her fingers as she adjusted her grip on the hilt, using her arm to pull the blade in closer to the soldier's throat.

He gulped involuntarily, his throat pushing against the blade for a scant instant, nicking himself on the sharp edge.

"How much worth do you put on the strength and skills of those two? Would it even be worth my time to kill them myself?"

She met the General's gaze over the soldier's frozen shoulder, her own eyes steeled in an uncompromising mask. "No more questions, enemy of Yarthuga."

The soldier cried out as she tightened the grip of her arm, forcing the blade to cut thinly into the flesh of his throat.

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

What was that in her voice? Castus was unable to identify the emotion she spoke with. It was like she didnt actually want to kill him....Weird for someone who not but an hour ago was saying how glad she was to have killed so many of his men.

As the blade began to move into his soldiers throat Castus made a very little attempt, if it could even be called that, at stopping the blade. Without letting go he ordered his men to move in and cut down the two warriors where they stood.

After several slow motions of the blade cutting into the man's throat the General gave a hard shove to the sword, making the death a slow and painless one. Never breaking eye contact with Amara, Castus tried to continue to use his force to create an advantage and make the capture of their leader easier.

 

[dirtybusiness]

"To the void with them!" Her shout fell on her men's ears the very same moment the General gave his orders for two of the remaining nine to be slain. Even as the General's hand shoved to the sword, she had already pressed in and deftly swept her wrist and shoulder in an inward arch, nearly separating the man from his head. That head was still grasped in a tight clench of hair, and she shoved the fallen soldier into his General, planting a bare heel solidly into his back and pushing with all of her leg strength.

She had remarkable legs.

Spinning, she caught a glimpse of her men working together, disarming one of the enemy before one fell to a sword. Then there were eight, not including herself. Completing her fluid turn, blade arm still extending, she caught the closest advancing soldier beneath his left armpit, the blade following through to his right shoulder. A hand grasped for her sword arm; shifting her weight to one leg, she dropped her torso low to the ground and pivoted her hip, catching the man in the back of his knees with her free leg. Rolling out of the way, she swung the sword to the back of his neck, surprised at the sureness of the steel and its keen edge. They certainly would have won this war if their weapons had been so true.

The enemy were swarming. Two more were taken down, her blue inked arms and legs a fury of their own right, time itself seeming to slow as she gave everything she had into the fray.

A man snatched for her braid; jerking her sword arm back, she thrust the elbow in his windpipe and then followed through with her wrist, driving the hilt into his brow. He let go, doubled over and stumbling, only for more to approach from all angles. Screaming her rage, she gripped the hilt with both hand and swung the blade in a wide arch, her shoulders jolted and nearly numbed by the resistance it met.

There was no time to pull out of the swing when she heard the panicked warning of one of her men - turning her head to look over her shoulder, she saw only a large shield bearing down at frightening speed, and with no way to protect herself...

For Amara, there was a world of pain, nerve endings screaming from the left side of her skull to her toes. Her knees buckled - her hands fell from the sword that remained stubbornly buried into the ribs of a soldier.

Then the world went black, and she collapsed onto her side, a prayer to the spirits silenced on her lips.

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Either she was a mind reader, or the two of them thought in an eerily similiar manner in this exact moment. General Castus tired to create an advantage by decapitating his own soldier after ordering the deaths of the two standing warriors he'd aluded to before, but her reflexes were just too fast for him. Before he knew it his man was already dead, the blade had sliced his hand and the nearly decapitated man had been pushed into him with such a force he'd never expected. The push caused him to lose his balance and he fell to the ground, landing on a mix of rocks and dead tree branches, knocking the wind out of him.

As he tried to shake the shock off and regain his proper breathing he was helpless as he watched his men fight and die. Even if his enemy refused to acknowledge the honor his men gained in death in battle he would have to remember to say a prayer for them when this was all over.

Amara wielded the sword with definate skill, almost like she'd trained to use one herself. It was a good thing she'd never used swords when the real fight was going on....who knows how it would've ended...especially if the others possesed the same level of skill as she. Men feel left and right by her side as she ducked and dodged around sword swings. Aided by her followers she continued taking off limbs and hacking down men in the prime cut of their lives. Soon though, the numbers game began to catch up and her men fell one by one.

Sensing a shift in momentum as two more Yarthuga fell, as well as the visbale wearyness on Amara's face, Castus tossed aside the corpse and stood. The blood on his face from the dead man and running dripping off his hand thanks to the fresh cut only added to the building rage. He grabbed the closest thing he could find to use as a weapon, which ironically enough was a shield, and charged into the dwindling lines on his men.

When the time was right he squared himself behind the shield to avoid the spinning blade and charged straight for Amara, coming at her from behind. All she had time to do was turn her head as he brought the shield down against her head. Her knees buckled, the sword dropped and she fell.....unconscious.

You STUPID little bitch.....This all could've been avioded if you'd just surrendered when you had the chance. Now you made me damage that pretty little face of yours.

Seeking a quick end to the conflict Castus moved to the other fighter left alive, who Castus recognized as the doctor who had been chanting something for the man who's arms he had broken with the tree branch earlier. He moved closer and towered over the smaller, thinner man. The Yarthuga stopped for just a second, but that was all it took. Castus' men grabbed ahold of his arms and subdued him.

Hold him up

The general growled this order and his men instantly froze, holding the captive in place. Castus moved closer and began landing a series of punches against the tired man, until eventually he too succumbed to fatigue and went limp.

With the fighting over the counts were tallied. Only three Yarthuga remained, Amara, the man with the broken arms, and the doctor. The seven who had perished had taken a total of 115 men from him......an utter waste of life to the general.

Get these paracites out of my site. Bound all with rope so they don't escape once they wake and build another cage as well. Once the second is done, remove their bonds and toss them in. We shall put their leader in one, and the other two in the second.

His orders still held the familiar tone of anger so his men hastened off to accomplish the tasks. Castus made his way back as well to see if the medic could do something about the wound on his hand, then take a brief nap. He may have only been 36 years old, but this was the first time he'd exerted himself like that in the decade he'd been a high ranking official.

 

[dirtybusiness]

There was no telling for Amara how long she had been unconscious. Occasionally, she would stir to a level of semi-awareness, but the white, fiery pain throbbing from her temple, as well as her final struggle, had left her so drained that she could barely keep her eyes open for more than a second.

This left her with strange, vague visions when she did walk the line between blackness and vague consciousness.

Large hands reaching towards her, behind them a blurry face. Strange voices debating over her in hushed tones; fire burning her wrists and ankles. A sudden jarring of her form bade her eyes to open, and she was briefly awarded a vision of blue sky peering through the break in forest canopy, only for darkness to seal over her like a gated tomb.

Though she could never been sure if it had been just a few hours or a few days, the sun had dragged itself to the western ranges, sulking steadily towards the peaks that would soon seem to swallow it whole. Her entire body was stiff, her arms ached and her shoulders felt like they may be broken. None of it compared to the headache, though, and she cringed as she shifted on her shoulder, trying to reach a cool hand towards her pounding brow.

Tightly bound rope fibers dug into her wrists - like fire burning. Frowning, she pushed up on her elbow and slowly raised her head, fighting back the nausea that swelled with the pain. One glance behind her assured what her sore body had been trying to tell her all along. Her wrists were bound behind her back, a length of rope traversing the distance between them and her similarly tied ankles.

Laying her head back down, she took a long, shallow breath, staring at the bars of her cage through half lidded eyes. Memories of the frantic, desperate battle were slowly filling in the blanks, adding to the sick writhing in the pit of her stomach.

Why wasn't she dead? Groaning softly, she tried to bend her knees up towards her chest, but the clever way they had tied her prevented the stretch. Apparently they didn't want her to try getting her wrists in front of her, lest she find a way to get out of it.

A soldier heard her groan and peered in at her. Nodding to himself, he took off at a fast clip to find the General, seeking an audience in his tent.

When it was finally granted, he bowed his head and then stood at attention. "General, the captive leader is awake."

His orders had been to alert the General when this happened. He waited now for further orders, hands held tightly at his sides.

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

So......she's awake is she. Good.

Castus dismissed the soldier back to his normal duties with a flick of the wrist. He was a little weary, after all he had done that day but he kept his composure as best he could. After his men had taken the three prisoners and bound them Castus had ordered, then assisted, in making graves for his dead. He had had his hand wrapped with cloth from the clothing of a dead soldier before he began working and it had held until recently, when the wound re-opened and soaked the cloth with blood.

He'd ordered the guards to kept him posted on the conditions of the captives with explicit instructions to summon him if Amara had awoken no matter what.

The bleeding had stopped again and his hand was being re-bandaged with some fresh cloth when the guard entered. Rising to his feet he began talking to himself.

Well....guess I better roll out the welcome mat and welcome her back into consciousness the right way.

He went to where Amara was being kept, watching as she tired with what little effort she could muster to move in her bonds, but to no avail.

Well well well, what do we have here. I see our stubborn little princess has finally decided to wake up.

His tone obviously mocking her situation. He'd purposely separated the three living Yarthuga rebels, hoping to make them believe they were the last remaining survivor of their race. Walking closer to Amara he crouched down so their eyes were at the same level.

Still feel like making life harder on yourself? Or are you ready to give up.

With her headache, being that close to her must've sounded like someone shouting right next to her eardrum. As she squirmed a little more the General gave her a light smack across the face as a taunt.

Struggle and squirm all you want, you're not getting out of those ropes unless I personally give the order.

A satisfied smile came to his face as he watched to see how she would react to the new situation.

 

[dirtybusiness]

With her eyes closed against the light and movement around her cage, she shifted her weight carefully, trying to see if there was any weakness at all in the bindings that she could exploit.

With all the footsteps of soldiers surrounding her cage, her already compromised senses were too overwhelmed to notice his approach until she heard his voice, like a bucket of cold water on her tense, aching frame.

"Well well well, what do we have here. I see our stubborn little princess has finally decided to wake up."

Thin lids parted to reveal steely eyes, the left bloodshot from the blow to her temple. Although she was still disoriented, a part of her mind firmly insisted that she did not want to face this man, prone on her side and bound like a slave.

Several moments were dedicated in an attempt to sit up, but all the shifting was making torn muscles scream in her shoulders, and when she tried to elevate her head again, the pain nearly blinded her.

Slumping back against the floor of the cage, she regarded him warily, her normally dusky skin pale with fatigue. It didn't help her disposition any that his voice was still all but oozing mockery.

"Still feel like making life harder on yourself? Or are you ready to give up?"

She automatically ground her teeth together at that statement, but the liquid fire that shot through her nerves quickly put an end to that. Gasping at the sensation, she closed her eyes, her mouth twisted in a frown.

"Struggle and squirm all you want, you're not getting out of those ropes unless I personally give the order."
"Well... give it."

Though her throat and mouth were as dry as pine needles, she still managed to work her own note of derision into her words, cracking open an eye as that frown carved upwards on one side to form a smirk.

"Or are you afraid of a little woman?"

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Castus couldn't believe it....where was all this defiance coming from. It made no sense. Anyone else would've broken ages go. Inside he finally admitted to himself that this wasn't going to be as easy as he thought...she was much more determined to resist him...he had to break her, his reputation was on the line with every second longer it would only be a matter of time until his men lost faith in his abilities to lead. Deep down, he actually admired her determination to resist him. Not because it would provide him with more chances to have "fun" in trying to break her spirit....it was something else. Castus was unable to identify what exactly it was that he felt. The only thing he knew, was that he wasnt going to lose to a woman.....no matter what the cost.

Very well.....it's not like you pose a serious threat to me anymore. Hell...I'd even go so far as to say that in your current state, even one of my weakest men would be enough to kill you. He paused That is, if I ever became deranged enough to think that your head was actually worth taking.

He ordered a small knife brought to him. Hesitantly one of the guards handed a dirk to him. Castus reached into the cage, grabbed whatever part of her bonds he could, and pulled them hard, slaming her body into the side of the cage.

The cages themselves were set upon wheels with ropes attached to the underside so they could be carted away without wasting any of the men's limited energy during their trip back. The bars had been build, not as solid, unmoving planks, but instead were made from a very flexable material which would bend into almost impossible angels before they showed the slightest sign of breaking. The roof was nothing but normal wood, but it was piled so thick that Castus was willing to bet his life that no living being could ever break through the roof.

He set the knife's blade against the ropes on the inside of them so he could rip through them with a pull rather than waste time with simply cutting them open.

Two quick slashes and the rope bonds were undone and Castus handed the dirk back to the guard. Without her bonds she was free to move around the cage as she liked, although with her wounds and injuries Castus all but canceled out the chance of her doing much moving during the trip up there.

There...your bonds are free

 

[dirtybusiness]

Her smirk wavered as he stared at her, his eyes narrowing in thought beneath his thick, bushy brows. Allowing her expression to slacken, she continued to watch him through the eye that wasn't bloodshot.

"Very well.....it's not like you pose a serious threat to me anymore. Hell...I'd even go so far as to say that in your current state, even one of my weakest men would be enough to kill you. He paused That is, if I ever became deranged enough to think that your head was actually worth taking."

His response surprised her, and she lifted her head carefully, about to speak when he suddenly wrenched her back against the bars. Any and every thought in her head was vaporized in the explosion of pain; a savage cry was torn from her already raw throat, but she barely even felt that. With her head pounding sickeningly, she clutched a hand to her mouth the moment it was free, swallowing back the urge to vomit.

When the waves of nausea finally subsided enough that she could breathe, she drew in a rattling breath and curled her legs up into her chest, huddling on her side in the fetal position. Even though she had wanted to sit up earlier, she was too weak to do so now. Every movement was a swift messenger of pain to her throbbing skull; she had no choice but to lie there, vulnerable and powerless.

At least she was unbound. Her strength would return eventually.

"You should have slit my throat already, just for what I did to your men. Why did you not?"

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

Thats true, I could have. But like I said before you're of more worth to me alive, so i'd rather keep you that way.

Castus began to leave his now free captive to check how the other two were doing, if they were even awake.

He asked himself the very same question as he walked off. Why had he spared her life? Could he have grown tired of the bloodshed already? Or maybe there was another reason. Whatever it was, he knew that his men would be confused by the move. Such a dangerous enemy left alive and unbound in just a cage....he himself couldn't believe what he was doing, so he expected his men to understand it even less.

He finally remembered that he'd planned to break her down mentally.....and what better way to do that then to make your prisoner think that you control weither they live or die. Maybe just being in the cage would do it...limited movement, being paraded through the enemies lands as a captive, virtually stripping her of all honor gained from the fight. That was his goal, and he would see it through.

He couldn't deny that there was something else there.....but he didn't know what it was, and let it be for the time being.....at least until he knew exactly what was going on.

 

[dirtybusiness]

"Thats true, I could have. But like I said before you're of more worth to me alive, so i'd rather keep you that way."

He left her there, something that was both a relief and a massive annoyance. Just what did he mean by that, anyway? Worth more alive? Although every Kanta and Kanto were taught to speak in the two most common languages outside the forests, they knew little about the customs of city people. The things she had heard were disgusting and frightened her, but she would chew off her own foot before she'd show him that fear.

She knew that men and women kept slaves in the cities. The desert dwellers and the hunters from the grasslands were probably the only ones who didn't, aside from the Yarthuga. If that was his plan, to sell her as a slave, she would kill herself the moment she was out of this cage.

No, she thought. She would kill whoever thought they could own her, then hunt down the General and kill him for the insult.

Night had fallen in earnest, and while the familiar cold settled in on her skin, there were none of the usual night sounds. The heavy stamping of soldiers to and fro, the clanking and banging of pots near cooking fires, and the bawdy singing and laughing around bonfires that dotted the clearings were causing the normal balance of life to shift in a completely different direction.

Closing her eyes, she wrapped her arms tightly around her legs and gingerly nestled her brow to her kneecaps, nose buried between. They had not thought to give her a blanket, and she wouldn't ask. Even if they hadn't forgotten on purpose, she doubted they would be in a rush to accommodate her upon finding out.

She thought she would never fall asleep due to the knots of worry in her stomach, the stiffness of her joints and the dull agony in her head, but the concern was short lived as blackness consumed her.

 

[Odd_Man_Out]

The nights coldness came so suddenly it even took the general by surprise. He'd been off on his way to speak with the doctor of the group to see if he could help find some of the healing herbs he'd seen used on the man with the broken arms before the pervious battle had broken out.

The general wasn't always the vicious monster he had been during the fight. Outsided of battle he was probably one of the nicest people in the whole empire as far as the government and military were concerned. It was not these skills which had caused him to lead however, it was his darker side that forced the promotion. Castus had an inner bloodlust which triggered something within him, making him one of the cruelest and most feared generals in the land. When he became the general, most of his other collegues and soldiers were distraught. They refused to follow Castus into battle. Custus, however, stood for none of that. He earned his men's respect in his very first battle. A small group of bandits had come and Castus was dispatched to kill them all. During the battle he joined in on the front lines, hunting down every last barbarian who dared kill someone under his direct command.

At first he couldn't even get a reply from the man, but after some time he finally got through to him. He told him how his leader looked like she was going to die soon unless she was healed, and his medics were nothing compared to the powers he'd observed in the forest. Castus talked with the doctor for well over an hour before he finally struck a bargain with the man. To prove that he was telling the truth he brought him to Amara's cage, all the guards had been dismissed for the night, and together they watched her even in sleep wincing at the pain that wrought throughout her body.

The deal was a simple one, if the doctor would help Castus during the night, He would set both the doctor and the other prisoner free, as well as personally guarentee the life of Amara. Why the doctor agreed had been beyond him, but as close as he could guess it was because he couldn't stand to see his leader in so much pain. His loyalty to her seemed to be so strong that he'd even work with the enemy if it would help Amara survive.

Before they began, the doctor had told Castus that he was mistaken about the herbs. They were not, as the general thought, healing herbs. There purpose was to eliminate the feeling of pain, nothing more. It wasn't quite what Castus was hoping for, but it would have to be enough. The two scowered the forest and finally found some of the leaves. He let the doctor into the cage and watched as he spoke his native words, and used the leaves to heal his leader, or at least begin the process.

When it was all done Ryan gave the doctor the key to the other cage, telling him that he was free to do as he wished and that he need not fear pursuit nor persecution. The doctor said nothing, but gave a look of both curiosity and cautiousness as he walked away, never turning his back to the general. Glad to have that over Castus went to get some food and take a nap.

Morning came much too soon for the veteren general and immediatly he remembered that he'd forgotten to lock the cage after his actions the previous night. He doubted that Amara had even woken up during the night, and was probably asleep even now, still recovering. He knew she'd be hungry when she finally awoke so he brought a plate to the cage, set it halfway between Amara and the cage door before leaving and locking it again. While going over his duties, helping his men prepare for the trip home, securing supplies and so forth, he realized that he'd left something back in the cage with Amara. He shrugged it off, not willing to have his actions known by his men loosly guarding the cage and went back to his duties.

 

[dirtybusiness]

The man who finally agreed to help the General only spoke haltingly in his language, but was both surprised and faintly amused that the enemy leader thought he was a healer. Every Yarthuga man, woman and child knew the Kumbuke could alter the mind and body - it would be like a Dokkaran looking at a rose, and knowing it would smell sweet.

He did not want to help the man at first, but when he saw Amara, and the dried crust of blood that clung to the left side of her face and matted her dishevelled braid, he finally relented. She would not be happy when she woke up, he knew, since she was forbidden to chew the leaves, but their world was changing.

As he worked in two or three of the tiny, strong-smelling leaves between the back of her teeth, he chanted in their native tongue a simple, repetitive plea to the spirits.

With one hand, he held her head steady on his lap; with the other, he gently rotated her lower jaw, manually chewing the leaves for her. The entire process took over two hours - if too much entered the body too fast, the effects would leave her catatonic for several days. When it was done, he kissed the blood smeared blue symbol that spiraled on her brow, one last prayer given to the spirits on her behalf before he left her cage.

He had to repeat the chore on Fandon before the man could withstand being body carried into the forests, giving one last look back to the widely scattered fires of the encampment before disappearing down familiar foot trails.

----

Heavy, thudded bootfalls slowly pulled her to consciousness, the voices of hundreds of men flying through the encampment like spears. Did these men never sleep, she thought groggily, staring up at the roof of the cage with glazed, vacant eyes. Their voices sounded crisp and urgent, with an unmistakable jovial note. Not the urgency of men in danger. It sounded like the men were getting everything ready to go.... where?

It was hard to think. It was hard to move. Her tongue was thick in her mouth, and the back of her throat felt slimy. Above all sensation was the sharp, bitter and green taste in her mouth. Kumbuke, she thought wildly, her eyes closing of their own accord.

She tried to move her arm, but only succeeded in dragging it sluggishly an inch or two closer to her side. She could hardly feel her legs, and only recognized her arms by the vague tingling sensation just below her elbows. Everything from fingertips down to that tingle might as well have been missing.

Swallowing thickly, she tried to gather her wandering thoughts. It was nearly impossible. There were too many distractions, too much noise, too much color, too much in existence... it overwhelmed her, swallowed her up.

When she finally gave up, letting her mind do as it would, she dimly realized it was a rather pleasant experience. She let her thoughts drift to and fro like the tides pulling in at the shoreline to the east.

It reminded her of the first time she had ever seen the ocean. She had been just a girl, tracking a small, graceful doe and it's fawn for practice. She was long out of familiar territory before she realized that she had never gone this far east before. A strange, fuzzy hum could be heard, growing louder and louder the further on she pressed.

And then she had reached the edge of the forest, standing on a cliff that bravely stood against the endless waves, white capped and fuming monsters that relentlessly flung themselves at the craggy rocks.

The blue stretched as far as she could see. It was larger than any lake she had ever imagined. It moved all by itself - it moved like water that was sloshed back and forth in a bowl. Amara had been awestruck.

It was getting dark before she could pull her eyes away from the furiously roiling water, and began her long trek back home. Halfway there, she'd been snagged by an old, stooped Kanto,, one of the many who had gone looking for her.

He whipped her across the backside with a vine and when she was done snivelling, he carried her back to camp on his shoulders, listening to her tale of the lake-that-was-not-a-lake. He told her it was called the Alei Rue, or Fish's Blue, and warned her to stay away. The spirits had given the forests to Yarthuga for protection - her Alei Rue belonged to the fish.

The thought of protecting a gift from the spirits made her groan, remembering her failure. Licking her dried lips with a thick tongue, she couldn't even stir enough emotion to feel despair at the outcome, or anger at her current inhibited state.

Even if she had been angry, it wouldn't have mattered - almost immediately, her thoughts shifted again, like a change in tide, and she was lost in the sounds of the military outfit, her eyes cloudy as a rainy day.