Bear Coast Page 17

  “What has this got to do with Mayor Petrice?” questioned Sara, wondering where this was leading.

  “I’m getting to that,” said Brekiz impatiently.

  “In any case, everyone thought that Captain Felx was dead, until he suddenly emerged almost a year later in the port of I’xtarro”

  “I’xtarro?” questioned Trex, “That’s on the far east coast of the great jungle, a trading Kingdom populated by wolves I believe.”

  “That’s right,” confirmed Kirra, “about the only Kingdom in the whole savage tropical jungle that outsiders are welcome in, at least to trade.”

  “Now here is the funny thing,” continued Sergeant Brex, “Captain Felx never talked about what happened, or how he got there. He also never wanted the information made public about what he had done. Even though, within the military itself, it did assist in getting him promoted in record time. But after a bit of digging, it turns out that he is not the only reluctant hero of that day.”

  “Who else?” asked Trex.

  “Let me guess,” said Sara, suspecting where it was going.

  Brex continued before Sara could interject again.

  “Apparently Mayor Petrice was in the wolf unit that fought against Captain Felx’s unit. She is similarly credited with activating the avalanche from the wolf side, and was also thought dead. Until, that is, suddenly appearing on a ship from the east almost one and a half years later with a similar desire to never speak of how she got there.”

  Trex looked a little stunned at the revelation, suddenly the unusually close friendship shared between Captain Felx and Mayor Petrice made a little more sense.

  “You are reading too much into it,” dismissed Sara.

  Sara had heard the distant rumors regarding holes in the Mayors past, and her involvement at Trogger Pass. So Sara had to admit to herself that the scenario was more then plausible if what Brex said about Captain Felx was true. There was a good chance that the two had probably worked together to survive in the hostile environment, but she also knew that both would have had every reason to hide the fact, particularly Mayor Petrice.

  “I agree with Sara,” said Kirra casually.

  “I don’t know,” said Brex slyly, “I think there is more to it. I mean you never know, stuck in a jungle together for a year, the heat, the constant threat of death, relying on each other at every turn, their close relationship now… I wonder…”

  “I wish you would stop speculating about that you perv,” said Kirra with a sigh.

  “Is it healthy to be speculating about your Commander’s past to such a degree?” came a calm voice suddenly from behind the two Sergeants.

  The two Sergeants spun around to see Mayor Petrice walk into the light of the lantern from the dark.

  “Mayor Petrice!” exclaimed Brex in shock, he and Kirra instantly sprung to attention.

  Down in the half shadows, Sara and Trex also jumped up from their slumber. Though Mayor Petrice had no official control over the two Sergeants, she just oozed authority, and this was before taking into consideration her trusted relationship with their superior officer, Captain Felx.

  “I’m… I am sorry Ma’am, what I just said was completely inappropriate Ma’am,” said Brex, fumbling to get the words out.

  He was normally never this nervous around officers, not even Captain Felx.

  Kirra and Brex were burdened by official and personal embarrassment about being caught out, a nasty mix, especially considering who now stood calmly in front of them.

  “Tristfull and Kelgorn, I see you are here as well,” said Petrice calmly, looking over the railing.

  “Yes ma’am,” said both youths simultaneously.

  Mayor Petrice surveyed the scenario calmly. She turned slowly. Her shining bushy blond tale swished against her fine silk skirt.

  “I asked you a question Sergeant,” she repeated.

  “Ma’am?” squirmed Brex.

  “Is it a good idea to be speculating about your Commander’s past so much?”

  “It’s a hobby Ma’am,” said Brex lamely, “there is nothing bad meant by it.”

  Petrice watched him carefully for a second.

  Down below, both youths were thankful not to be at the receiving end of the close inspection.

  Brex was feeling noticeably warmer.

  “Well Sergeant, I could tell you the truth about the whole incident,” Petrice said softly, the hint of suggestion in her voice impacting much harder then it should.

  “But I’m afraid I would shock you too greatly, one way or the other.”

  Brex gulped audibly.

  “Yes ma’am.”

  “Anyway,” the mayor continued, her calm voice returning, “I wouldn’t like to deny you your speculations.”

  Brex nodded.

  “We should all return to our quarters soon,” the Mayor suggested, turning away and walking into the dark once more. Her request carried a lot of hidden weight, compelling in particular the younger listeners, to follow immediately.

  The two Sergeants relaxed slightly as the Mayor disappeared from view. They blinked a few times.

  A moment later, Trex and Sara came climbing over the railing, seemingly compelled to go to their quarters.

  “We had better turn in,” said Trex on the way past.

  Kirra and Brex simply stood there for a second.

  “An interesting trip,” said Brex finally after a few moments.

  “And we haven’t even made landfall yet,” replied Kirra.

  - CHAPTER TEN -

  Trouble doesn’t wait its turn

  (Meanwhile…)

  Dark clouds moved by the peaks of the high mountain pass. Winter always arrived earlier to the great mountains that divided the continent. The half light of the impending morning sun had not yet had a chance to take the night’s chill from the air.

  A few hundred kilometres west of Torstberg, a small group made their way through the damp and dreary landscape on the only track that lead back to the Wolf Kingdom. The landscape was rocky with twisted shrubs and stunted pines. Winter was merciless here, to Anthros and to the rest of nature.

  A small open topped wagon rumbled its way down a well used dirt track. Four female wolf soldiers were riding in escort around the cart. A fifth female soldier was driving it. On the cart itself sat four chained exiles. The fifth exile, Tomn, was walking behind the cart. His hands and feet were chained together and tied to the back of the cart. The reason for his special treatment was clearly audible to anyone in the mountain pass.

  “Filthy females,” spat Tomn.

  “You’re all scum!” he sneered at the soldier nearest to him.

  She had a smile on her face.

  “If you would just shut up, you wouldn’t have to walk,” replied the guard he was yelling at.

  “If it wasn’t for ossums like you, I wouldn’t be an exile in the first place!” Tomn shouted back, using the term ossum, which was a common insult on the Anthro world.

  One of the guards guided her mount closer to Tomn, using her horse skilfully to ‘accidentally’ knock him over into the dirt.

  Tomn cursed as he was momentary dragged along the filthy road. He scrambled to get back up again.

  “Some males never learn,” said the soldier that had deliberately knocked him over, trying to sound innocent.

  This caused the other solders to chuckle amongst themselves.

  “Even if you weren’t exiled, a psycho like you would have ended up in the gaol eventually,” said another soldier. This generated another round of laughs.

  Tomn was fuming, but was still catching his breath from moments before.

  “Just keep your mouth shut,” whispered Antri sharply from the back of the cart, he was sick of hearing Tomn’s ranting as well.

  Tomn’s wild eyes glared back from under his dirty, scruffy hair. Hate was just steaming from him. Silence returned momentarily as the small group continued.

  “Was it necessary to get up this early?” asked one of the soldiers in th
e back.

  “It’s a standard precaution,” replied the leader, “prisoner transfers always start at random times, to avoid any planned breakout.”

  “Not that anyone would risk their necks for this sorry bunch,” sniggered another of the female guard.

  “Exile scum,” said the forth rider, looking over the group with detest.

  The group travelled on through the wilderness, a slight mist still lingering over the barren, rocky landscape.

  The soldiers had their guard up, this inhospitable terrain offered plenty of cover.

  Suddenly there was a commotion from the back of the convoy.

  “Ahhhh! We’re under attack!” shouted one of the soldiers, grabbing her arm, a small thin dart sticking out of its side.

  “Darts!” shouted a second soldier, leaning low over her horse to avoid any incoming shots.

  All five soldiers retrieved their swords and small rider’s shields. Their horses turning on the spot as they scanned for the attackers.

  On either side of the cart the earth seemed to explode. Two Anthros rose from their positions and threw off their camouflage, revealing the red furred exile leader Histock and his craggy old lieutenant Horrist.

  Before any of the soldiers had a chance to react, the unofficial Sage Histock extended his hands, letting out a wave of intense emotional projections.

  The riders had a hard enough time not to be stunned by the emotional barrage, but their horses stood no chance. All four horses reared up in shock, either losing their riders straight away or falling backwards only to lose them a seconds later.

  As a sign of his skill, the horse nearest to the red wolf simply froze, stopping the cart where it was instead of bolting in panic as the rest.

  The scruffy old exile Horrist had a large axe in his hands and immediately moved over to Tomn during the commotion. Tomn grinned evilly and raised his shackled hands to place them against an iron strip on the back of the cart. Horrist didn’t hesitate to swing the axe, smashing the chains and releasing the angered youth.

  “Finally” sneered Tomn, grapping the embedded axe left by the older Exile, pulling it out with one viscous tug.

  From the surrounding rocks Mert and another exile appeared, still holding their blow pipes and a sword.

  Another soldier was struck in the leg with a dart while getting up.

  “Get them!” shouted the leader of the female soldiers.

  The four dismounted females sprung forward, emotions charged up.

  The driver had retrieved her sword and lunged at the exile leader without a second’s hesitation.

  Histock raised his own sword, blocking the double handed swing from the lunging driver. Using his free hand, he grabbed the belt of the flying soldier, throwing the lighter female past him. The driver landed on her feet, sliding back a bit. Unfortunately for her, she had her anger too turned up to wonder how this male was able to block a powerful double handed blow with just one arm.

  Exchanging a few powerful blows, their swords suddenly locked. The smaller female leaning in menacingly, trying to push the straining male back with sheer emotional strength.

  Philton had had enough time to recuperate from the original projection and raised his side’s anger instantly to a very high level, quickly nullifying the advantage of the females and putting his direct opponent on the back foot.

  The other exiles had been waiting for this, having been falling back steadily to buy time against the superior female strength. Feeling invigorated, and with the paralysis poison beginning to work on the two hit guards, the four exiles went onto the offensive.

  Histock glared at the young female opponent, who was suddenly well aware of the hidden powers of her opposite. She now looked decidedly concerned.

  Pushing her away, Histock landed a few skilful blows. He managed to knock her sword to the side with the last swing. Landing a powerful kick to her exposed chest, he sent her flying into a large rock behind her, the impact instantly knocking her out.

  Turning back to the others, Histock could see that the two poisoned soldiers had already been knocked out and that the four freed exiles had the last two females cornered against some rocks.

  The red exile leader could also see that the two remaining female soldiers appeared to be injured. Obviously Tomn was fighting rough with his large axe.

  To emphasise this, the atmosphere itself suddenly seemed to radiate heat, despite the cold weather, Tomn was intending to kill.

  The two solders showed their experience, getting on the back foot and preparing themselves, ears flat, teeth gnashing.

  Mert blinked out of his anger fuelled fighting frame of mind, his mind instinctively reacting to the disconcerting developments.

  “Tomn!” shouted Mert, grabbing his comrade’s arm.

  “Tomn! Calm down! We are not murderers!”

  This received a side glare from the old exile Horrist who was nearby.

  Tomn roughly brushed Mert’s hand away.

  Mert didn’t back down, stepping between Tomn and the two cornered soldiers.

  “Tomn, snap out of it!” shouted Mert, taking a defensive stance.

  “Get out of my way!” roared Tomn, swinging his axe in a wide ark.

  Mert was unprepared for the attack and had lost the strength of the flowing emotions. Barely able to deflect the axe blow, Mert was knocked down, losing his sword in the process.

  Tomn had lost all control, completely consumed by bloodlust. Using the momentum of the axe, he swung around for a second blow against his fellow exile.

  The axe stopped dead as a hand grabbed Tomn’s arm like a vice at its highest point.

  Tomn turned his burning eye’s to look into those of his leader.

  “He is not your enemy,” boomed the commanding voice of Histock.

  Not even this was enough to calm the crazed youth.

  Histock pushed the youth back to the side.

  “They are,” he added, pointing to the cornered soldiers.

  A sick smile suddenly immerged on Tomn’s face.

  “But…” started Mert.

  The red wolf’s icy cold features instantly told Mert that there was nothing Mert could do.

  Tomn didn’t hesitate further, charging in against the two, completely drunk on rage and fuelled by those around him.

  The two injured soldiers counterattacked, but the whirlwind that was the axe and the confined space made manoeuvring impossible. One was forced to dive to the side where she was knocked out by Horrist a moment later. The leader of the soldiers was skilfully able to disarm the crazed exile, but it cost her her own sword in the process. Tomn used the moment’s hesitation to hit her hard in the side of the head, sending her into the rocks and tumbling to the ground.

  Groaning, she got up on one elbow, looking up with rage at the exile towering above her.

  Mert looked on with horror as Tomn grabbed a large rock nearby, raising it above his head.

  The other younger exiles of the group also instinctively looked away in disgust, despite their fighting frame of mind.

  A dagger flew out of nowhere and impacted on Tomn’s hand.

  Screaming with rage, Tomn dropped the bolder, tearing the dagger from his hand with his free one.

  A cloaked figure jumped down from the rocks that had trapped the female soldiers, landing just behind the still conscious female.

  The newcomer’s hood had come off during the jump. Getting back up from his kneeling position, all the exiles could see that it was a grey wolf, Mr. Thorntreck.

  The last conscious female soldier began to slowly turn her aching head to see who her possible saviour was, but a perfectly aimed blow to the side of her head from the older Mr. Thorntreck sent her into oblivion.

  Tomn screamed in rage, lunging at the older wolf with Mr. Thorntreck’s own dagger.

  Mr. Thorntreck calmly sidestepped the crazed attack, landing another blow to the back of the exiles neck, knocking Tomn out cold instantly.

  Mr. Thorntreck turned back to face the
remaining exiles as the collapsed Tomn was still coming to rest on the ground.

  “That is enough!” shouted Mr. Thorntreck, his commanding voice having little effect against the combined rage in front of him, but it was enough.

  The exile leader Histock stood calmly, while more closely inspecting the unarmed senior official in front of him. The male Sage lowered the overall anger of his comrades, many snapped out of their fighting frame of mind.

  “You have freed your comrades,” continued Mr. Thorntreck calmly, taking a symbolic step in front of the unconscious female leader, “no soldier is going to die today.”

  “You are a very brave wolf,” said Histock calmly, “you must know that you do not stand a chance against us.”

  “I don’t need to be brave,” replied Mr. Thorntreck, his voice steady, “I know that you will not kill me.”

  “And why is that?” asked the red furred exile leader, “we failed in our contract.”

  Memories were still fresh on both sides regarding how Histock and Tomn had attacked both Mr. Thorntreck and Sara as part of the matter with Sage Filfia all those moths ago.

  “Exactly” replied the older grey furred wolf, his neat brown moustache twitching slightly, “but even in failure, you would have had to come to an understanding with your Mintury society contact.”

  “You know of our agreement?” asked Histock calmly.

  “As you knew I would,” replied Mr. Thorntreck shrewdly.

  “As it stands,” Mr. Thorntreck continued, clarifying the matter “I never acted against the desires of the Mintury society, and you never attacked a member of that society under… ‘orders’ from senior members.”

  Mr. Thorntreck reiterated the current standing to make sure it was crystal clear for everyone.

  A sudden pause in the discussion allowed the wind a chance to make itself heard as it raced through the pass.

  “There is still no reason for us not to kill you now. No one would ever know, and we would be free from one more loose end.”

  Mr. Thorntreck smiled, seemingly happy to have interpreted his adversary so well.

  “You are a dangerous wolf Sage Histock,” Mr. Thorntreck said, clearly indicating that he had done his homework regarding the exile. “I will have use for you yet. It may not be as lucrative as the offer you received from my more well-financed society sisters, but I think it will hold your interest well enough.”