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Migratory birds- Chapter 3- Part 2

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by kodayu

Note! Continued from chapter 3, Part 1!

"Hey, Jid!"

The lynx turned around and suddenly percepted Mlala freeing himself from the crowd and running towards him.

Meanwhile the Nighthunters gathered around the unconscious Wheel and the rest of the people around the Nighthunters. Except the Nickel and the member of Storm's End who stood at the side, each clan for itself, watching the cheering people with glaring looks.

"Wow! You made it second!" Mlala came closer.

Jid looked up at him and inhaling deeply stood up straight. "Yeah, seems like it..." he said, still looking at the crowd which had gathered around the victor. Suddenly a loud "Heave-ho!" echoed over the square and the males of the clan lifted Wheel up, carrying him on their shoulders, while other members of the clan pushed the people aside, the strange group went over to the sawmill.

Jid was distracted when Mlala pat on his shoulder. "I could have never done that!"

"Heya!" Mlala's father came over from one of the stands of the square and walked over to them too, dragging Enja along who held his hand.

Jid was once again looking after Wheel who was just about to be carried into the sawmill. His eyes narrowed.

The people started to disperse and spread all over the square, some sitting down on the lawn beneath the oak, some joining the stands, some simply chatting in groups. Everything seemed to be very peaceful except the two groups of the foxes and the deer who were gloaming close to their headquarters, anticipating the contestants belonging to their clans but bit by bit these groups got smaller while the rest walked back into headquarters until their were just the most important members of the clans left.

"Damn!" The old lynx powerfully slapped the younger lynx on the shoulder (this one coughed unwillingly). "You were almost as good as Wheel." He laughed. "That will teach them a lesson about our kind!" And he started laughing aloud, his face radiating joy.

Enja and Mlala looked at Jid, equally smiling and he started to feel uncomfortable as his tail wagged strongly. "Don't mention it!" he mumbled.

"Don't mention it?" The old lynx laughed even louder. "Damn, this day will be remember by our family for the rest of eternity! I just can't tell you how proud I am!" And suddenly the bigger lynx leaned over to the youngster, grabbed him and embraced him with joyous carelessness. "Congratulations, Jid, congratulations!"

For a moment the lynx was visibly confused by this, his tail wagged frantically. At first he made obvious attempts to brake free but after some time he relaxed a little bit

"Now!" The man let Jid go. "Tonight we will have a feast! Yeah! This is worth a celebration!"

And he grabbed Jid's shoulder and forced him to go over to their small hut with them while Mlala started to inquire him about the race what the tired runner answered in monosyllables but to Mlala's satisfaction nevertheless.

Just Enja followed behind. First she was busy with looking at the few wolves who were still loafing around in front of the sawmill then she looked at the members of the fox clan and then over to the deer. Slowly she turned to the wolves again and then all of a sudden she ran away as fast as she could.

The priest stood beneath the oak. His strangely colored brown coat covered all of his broad body so that just his pointed muzzle was visible. No one seemed to pay much attention to him. He was supporting himself on his long, gnarled staff, standing in the shadow of the old oak whose leaves rustled from time to time.

The people were already partying again. Some of the stands which sold drinks and food were pretty demanded and lots of people sat on the small piece of lawn in the shadow of the oak (although they kept their distance to the priest) as the sun had not just risen high into the sky but had already passed by its peak and thus the air and the entire village was already highly heated up and as there was not a single cloud to be seen in the blue of the sky it could still get hotter and thus everyone was happy about a little piece of shadow. The felines, ursines, squirrels, mice and boars from the village and its surroundings were chatting lowly all the time, exchanging information they had gathered since almost a year because they had had no opportunity to talk to one another before this special occasion. After all the race was nothing but some kind of a pretext to come together for a day. After all the Big Three usually settled this among themselves.

But right now at least two of the clans were not even thinking about settling anything at all as they were still waiting for their runners to come back and nothing had happened up to now. The few remaining members of the Nickel and Storm's End were getting impatient. Most of the foxes had already disappeared inside their family seat, this maze of interconnected houses and huts with the bar at the front, facing the oak. There were just some youngsters left, impatiently walking to and fro, kicking small stones aside. On the other side the most important members of the deer clan were still present while the rest of the clan had either disappeared inside the huge dormitory that the called their family seat or mixed with the people standing around.

However there was just a small group of old (but still very impressive) stags left which cast a gloom all over their surrounding.

The armadillo watched all this in silence.

Suddenly a figure was running around the corner and for a moment all the people stopped whatever they had done, a few cheers and a little bit of clapping came forward when the old rabbit dashed towards the oak, holding a single, mistreated branch of the Tacolar Tree in his paw and he did not stop until he had slammed it against the tree like the tradition demanded it.

But his arrival did not get as much attention as the next one did: He was rather staggering than running although he did not look that exhausted at all. But something seemed to slow him down and the impressively huge figure of the stag was looking rather miserable than anything else. There were some few cheers again but when the members of Thunder's clan stepped forward these cheers died down instantly.

Powerlessly Thunder slammed his branch against the oak and still panting he looked over to his family's seat where he was being anticipated. Slowly he started to walk over to his father and his uncles and Thunder tried to display as much dignity as he could. But in the end it did not help very much.

The stags were mercilessly staring at the incoming youngsters.

"I... I..." Thunder wanted to start but then his father slapped him so hard that the young stag was almost pushed over.

"Get inside!" The man hissed to his son who held his burning cheek and slowly he started to walk towards the door.

His father glared at the crowd around him and then walked after his son, displaying all the pride he could to prove that this was not supposed to be a defeat.

Tzerska and the armadillo priest stood almost side by side, watching the door of the dormitory slamming shut behind the stags.

"I hope he gets more than that!" Tzerska said coldly and spit out.

Then the rabbit started to walk away.

"Tzerska!"

The low voice of the armadillo made him stop.

The priest had turned around and obviously looked at him although his eyes were hidden beneath the hood of his coat. "How long do we know each other?" the armadillo asked.

"Much too long if you ask me," the rabbit replied. Unwillingly he laid his long ears back.

A smile flickered round the armadillo's lips. "Just my feelings, just my feelings..." he replied. "But I guess one might say that we always have respected each other?!"

The rabbit shortly wrinkled his nose. "The Spirits know what I think about your mendacious clan," he answered.

Although the rabbit could not see it, it was obvious that the armadillo's expression was changing for the worse. "Whatever," the priest said lowly. "I give you a good advice, Tzerska and I just do it because you are one of the last true believers. But listen carefully because I will just say it once: You do not want to attend the feast tonight."

The rabbit screwed up his eyes. "What are you up to, priest?"

"Isn't it obvious that this day is still heating up...?" And suddenly he hold out his hand and pointed towards the forest and as Tzerska looked over there he saw the long expected fox arriving.

Fistle was a total mess: His clothes were reduced to shreds which hang around his body and these were partly dyed with blood as he had received several severe cuts alongside bruises and other wounds. He was not even pretending to run anymore, he was just stumbling forward, heading straight for the Nickel's headquarters.

Everyone was staring at him in silence and even the assembled foxes needed a moment to realize that they had to help him.

His face was contorted like he was close to crying and when some of the foxes came over to him he almost fell into their arms and they carried him into the house as quickly as possible.

It took a while before the conversations started again and even then it was rather a low mumbling than anything else.

Tzerska looked after the foxes who had all disappeared inside the building by now, but the rabbit's mind was still racing. "Did you mean this..." he asked the armadillo and turned around towards the priest.

But then he stopped because where the priest had been moments before was now nothing but shadowy lawn. The rabbit pressed his lips together. "May the Spirits curse you, priest!" he whispered and then walked away, leaving the square and all the people there behind.

"He's not taking it," Searcher said without delay, walking over to the end of the huge table.

The old wolf looked up. "What do you mean?"

Searcher sat down at the table, next to his father. "He is completely out of his mind, mad with anger and desperation. We had to lock him in because he lost control. Chimes is guarding him."

The old wolf looked at his grandson and then leaned forward. "Do you mean he does not approve our action?" His voice was low and quiet, already reflecting his suspicions, a foretaste of his anger.

Everyone at the table looked at Searcher who was getting visibly nervous.

He laughed shortly. "If it would be that..." The wolf wet his lips and then blurred out: "He wants her back!"

For an instant it was completely silent.

"What?" Barrel, Searcher's uncle, gasped.

"WHAT DOES THIS SINNER THINK?" Grampa flared up, quivering with rage, his eyes flashing with anger. "We even let him have his bastard children and the only thing he is thinking about is this vulpine SLUT?"

Searcher nodded.

"I SHOULD RIP HIS THROAT! Hasn't he besmirched his clan's name far too often by now? AND HE DOESN'T EVEN STOP?" The old man was trembling, his tail was stiff like he was about to tear something or someone to pieces within an instant. "HE SHOULD BE DAMN GRATEFUL THAT WE SEND HER BACK WHERE SHE BELONGED!"

Most of the men nodded.

"I WILL SHOW HIM!" And he stood up awkwardly but with surprising speed.

Boulder was the first one to react and stood up, laying his paw on his father's shoulder. "Please..."

"WHAT?" The old man flared up. "Do you want to protect your son, this disgrace of our family? Isn't it enough that he sullied our bloodline?" He glared at the younger wolf who was not able to stand that for long.

"Please, father, he is young, he is confused. He needs time!"

The old man stared at his son who gulped nervously. The old man could smell the other one's fear but nevertheless he was not letting him go. He gritted his teeth and growled.

"Please!"

Searcher had stood up too and joined his father. "Grampa, he is confused and tired, he will be alright after a good night's sleep."

The old wolf glared at the two wolves once more, then he slowly turned his face away. "I can not allow such behavior!" he snarled and then shook of his son's paw, walking back to his place at the top of the large table. "And I will not allow him to go on like this!" he flarred up once more. Then he sat down.

"I will take care of this," Searcher answered quickly.

"He should be grateful that his cubs are still here with us!" the old man mumbled, now looking more tired than angry.

It was all silent. No one of the ten men in the room dared to say anything.

Boulder sat down at his place again, just Searcher stood there, nervously eyeing his grandfather.

"I will try to bring him to his senses," Searcher said cautiously.

"Do that," his grandfather said. "And if he doesn't..." He fell silent for a moment, lowering his head. Then he looked up again and his eyes were flashing. "Tell him that I will not allow anything like this to happen again."

Searcher nodded, turned around and quickly left the dinning hall.

Blade was leaning at a pillar outside when he came out. "What's up?"

Searcher pulled a face. "He doesn't even know how lucky he is. He's just gotten himself off the hook again."

"Wow!" She was walking after him who headed upstairs. "I thought he was ready now!"

They walked upstairs where most of the private and sleeping rooms were, loosely connected by a number of corridors and larger rooms, a maze of interconnected rooms where any stranger would instantly get lost in. Usually one could hear the saws working below but on this day of celebration the constant drone of the machines had stopped and thus one could hear the faint noises from the rooms, the low talking and such. They walked through it without delay.

Finally they reached a corridor at the back of the building. In front of one of the doors sat Chimes, busy carving something. The wolf jumped up when Searcher and Blade got closer.

"Anything new?" Searcher asked.

"No, I have heard sobs for some time but since then he's quiet," Chimes replied.

Searcher nodded and then exchanged a look with Blade who nodded to him. "Okay, ready for another round," he mumbled and then he opened the door and walked into Wheel's room.

Wheel was sitting on the floor, leaning against the edge of the bed. His bloodshot eyes were wide open but they seemed to stare into nothingness.

He did not move when his brother and his sister came in.

For a moment Blade and Searcher waited for a reaction but then the woman kneeled down at her brother's side. "Wheel, you OK?"

A silly, scornful smile flickered round his lips. "Why are you asking me that?" he mumbled. "Does it matter to you how I feel?"

Searcher grimaced. "Does it matter to you how we feel?" he replied.

Wheel looked up. His face was an entire mess: He had not washed himself since the end of the race and thus all the dirt still stuck to it. His

bloodshot eyes stood out of the dirty fur like two pearls of reddish marble in between splinters of wood.

"Do you have ever cared about your family, your clan?" Searcher went on, then fell silent for a moment, staring back at his younger brother, waiting for an answer of his. But as there was none he went on himself: "No! First you cheat during last year's race and when it is uncovered you run away like a coward. Did you ever care about us back then? Did you care about Quill who was promised to marry you? Did you care about what we had to face when the Nickel and Storm's End gave us hell on earth?"

Wheel turned his face away.

"Of course, you didn't! You were busy fucking some fox from the Silver Coast, weren't you? It did not matter to you, a Nighthunter, bringing a vulpine whore into our home?"

Suddenly Wheel's body tensed. "Don't you dare talking like that about my wife!" he snarled.

"Ah, come on! You don't believe that crap yourself, do you?" Searcher covered his face with his hand for a moment. "OK! That you feel responsible for her, because she has given birth to your cubs... OK! I have to admit that I do understand that! But now you should be damn grateful that we got you rid of her and that we even allow you to keep your crossbred cubs!"

Searcher almost yelled that at his brother in front of him.

"I love her!" Wheel said stone-cold.

"GIMME A BREAK!" Searcher was trembling, his tail as stiff as a metal bar. "What have you done in return, eh? What have you ever done for your family, except sullying its name and its bloodline?"

"I RAN!" Wheel cried.

"AND THAT WAS THE LEAST ONE COULD EXPECT AFTER WHAT YOU DID LAST YEAR!"

"OH YEAH?" Now Wheel was getting equally agitated, baring his sharp canine teeth just like his brother did. "AND YOU PAY ME BACK BY TAKING MY WIFE FROM ME!"

"YOU ARE SUCH A SELFISH WIMP, WHEEL! A DAMN MISERABLE LOOSER!"

"YEAH, I AM A LOOSER! WHAT DO I CARE? I WOULD NOT HAVE WON THE DAMN RACE IF I HAD NOT BRIBED THE LYNX!"

Searcher was speechless for an instant, staring at Wheel with his mouth wide open.

"What?" Blade, who had been almost forgotten by her brothers, stammered after a moment.

"YEAH! I DID NOT WIN THE RACE! GOT IT? THE LYNX LET ME GO FIRST BECAUSE I PROMISED TO PAY HIM!" Wheel was trembling, every muscles of his was tense with anger and frustration.

"That's not true...!" Searcher said, almost begging. He was completely pale.

"Bet ya ass!" Wheel snarled at him.

Blade and Searcher exchanged a look, both equally startled by Wheel's confession. Their younger brother had turned away and rubbed his muzzle like he tried to get rid of something. He was still trembling.

"We got to..." Searcher started but Blade already nodded and instantly the wolf turned around and opened the door, Blade following right after him.

"Blade?"

She hesitated a moment and then turned her head towards Wheel.

His jaw was quivering and now he was looking completely tired and powerless again. "Are the kids alright?" he said lowly. He was almost unable to control his voice. He was close to crying.

She eyed him from teeth to toe. "Don't worry. Quill is taking care of them," she said coldly while walking out the door. Then she slammed it shut.

They walked back towards the dinning hall. Their steps made the floor drone as they walked so powerfully. Both of their tails were stiff and Searcher nervously ran his hand over his muzzle again and again, trying to find the right explanation for this new fiasco he had to report. But whatever got on his mind, it was hardly good enough to save himself.

Searcher hesitated when he had to open the door of the dinning hall and Blade encouragingly laid her paw on his shoulder and nodded towards him when he looked for her. Slowly he opened the door and walked in while Blade waited outside.

She stood in front of the large, heavy door and she could almost feel like the tension inside was mounting but when she heard her grandfather cry she should have been prepared for this but it let her blood run cold nevertheless.

She felt sorry for her brother who had to face the men inside. She was unable to understand what they spoke of inside, she heard just the cries getting out and as fast as she had expected Searcher got out again.

He was pale expect for the right half of his face which looked like the skin underneath his fur had been sat afire: The blow still had to be hurting.

"So what...?" she asked.

Searcher exhaled, then he looked up and his features hardened. "We have to take care of the lynx." he said.

It was poor. Neither them, nor he could deny that but he knew that this was the very best this family was able to do and thus did not really mind, instead he displayed such an insatiable hunger that he devoured the haunch of roasted hare with such visible delight that the lynx family was slightly embarrassed by his behavior: As hungry as he had been he did not care much about manners (as if he ever did) and had grabbed the haunch with his fingers and had started gnawing at it before his host had had a chance to hand him a knife and a fork.

Enja and Mlala openly stared at him while he tore off piece after piece of meat with his carnivorous teeth, from time to time stuffing bread or some of the fruit into his mouth as well, before giving his haunch a little bit more attention. It took him a while to notice the silence at the table and then he looked at the two lynx at his side who were still staring at him. He needed a moment to realize why they were looking at him that way and for a short instant it looked like he blushed but then he mumbled a low "Sorry!", picked up a fork and a knife and went on eating, although he behaved rather awkwardly with these.

"No, no!" the old lynx intervened quickly. "Please forgive my children, Jid! They are just surprised that someone eats like this because I have always told them not to. Please do whatever you want."

Jid kept silent while slashing the meat with almost desperate helplessness.

But he did not give up trying, quite on the contrary he seemed to feel rather embarrassed by his own behavior and kept silent most of the time during the meal.

"So..." The old lynx pushed his empty plate away. "What do you have planned, Jid? Do you want to stay with us for a little longer?"

"Thanks, but I want to cross Lake Moonfire as soon as possible," he replied quickly.

The man nodded. "Very wise! It's much better to avoid the storm period when one is able to," he agreed.

"She will loose herself in it," Enja mumbled and Jid stared at the girl with eyes wide open, trying to find out who she had meant.

Her father ignored Enja's comment. "But I insist that you stay at least another day," he said with a smile. "You should rest a while after such an effort!"

"I..."

"Ah! Ah! I don't want to hear any contradiction, young man!" he interrupted Jid. "You are our guest and I want to be damned if I am not a good host. Maybe I can even find someone who takes you to the Silver Coast with his carriage or so. There is always someone going there. Don't you think that is an agreement?"

"Thanks, but..."

"No but, my friend! Just Thanks' enough!" He smiled at the younger lynx who had lowered his head a little bit.

"You deserve it," Mlala said friendly. "After all you are the winner."

Jid's right ear flickered all of a sudden when he eyed Mlala for a short moment. But nobody seemed to notice.

"Wheel is nothing but a cheater," the other lynx went on. "I bet you would outrun him easily."

"Why?" Jid said as casually as possible, playing around with the broken bone on his plate.

"Why? Pfffff... I mean after what happened last year..."

"What happened last year?"

"I don't know. I was out of the race pretty soon. But as far as I know Wheel had hidden a branch of the Tacolar Tree somewhere and thus he did not have to run the whole distance. Somehow the priest found out afterwards and some participating stranger was declared winner..." He paused shortly.

"Afterwards he ran away and did not come back until two full moons ago, bringing home a vixen he had married somewhere. His entire clan was totally furious. But now..." He smiled. "I guess I does not really matter anymore." There was a short pause and he looked at Jid who stared on the table and suddenly his face brightened again. "As long as you stay you have to train with me. Next year I will have to carry on a legacy after all." He smiled broadly.

"She can't. Someone is awaiting her..." Enja mumbled and once again everyone was looking at her in bewilderment. The little girl had kept unusually quiet during the meal and she lacked all the liveliness she had displayed earlier. She just sat on her chair, dangled her legs and stared at her empty paws.

Her father leaned over to her. "Everything alright, Enja?" he asked carefully.

All of a sudden the girl broke out in tears, grabbed her father's arm and pressed her small face against it, sobbing and trembling.

"Shhhh...." Quickly her father stood up from his chair and picked her up in his arms. "Don't worry, Enja, everything will be alright." He rocked the tiny girl in his arms for a moment. "She must have had one of her visions again," he explained to Jid who had been unable to take his eyes off the girl.

Jid nodded slowly.

"Maybe all this excitement has been a little bit too much for her," the man mumbled. "We will get a little bit of fresh air." And slowly he carried the girl outside through the opened door of the hut, rocking her gently, trying to pacify her by whispering to her but Enja seemed to be unable to calm down.

"Oh, man!" Mlala sighed. "I wish she would not have these visions. It troubles her so much."

"Hm?" Jid turned around to him as he had still been looking at the opened door where Enja and her father had disappeared.

Mlala waved his hand. "Never mind!"

They sat in silence for a while and Jid started to gnaw at his claws.

Mlala observed him and he noticed that his tail wagged rather strongly. For a moment he was wondering about that.

There was the quiet noise of talking coming in from outside.

"You really don't know how happy you have made my father," Mlala said after some time. "You have really shown them all and my father is really proud to be a lynx again."

Jid blinked at him just like he did not understand.

Mlala went on: "My father has even thought about offering you Enja's hand..."

Jid's mouth dropped open.

"...but as you have already said that you do not want to stay here...." Mlala paused, having folded his hand in front of his muzzle. "As if we had much of a future here..." he added lowly.

"Jid?" somebody cried from outside. "Jid?" Mlala's father was coming back inside, strongly holding his struggling daughter by her hand. He was smiling, his tail wagged. "There is some wolf who wants to speak with you," he said.

"Back in a minute," Jid said to Mlala and stood up, walking towards the door. As he passed by the man with the lowered head he noticed that he smelled somehow strangely but he just saw Enja who was staring at him with her eyes wide open.

He walked outside and for a moment the sun blinded him when he walked down from the small veranda.

It was a simple, violent blow against his head and he lost consciousness even before he hit the ground.

Despite the action outside the room was completely silent. But this was the innermost chamber of the entire complex of buildings which had been build one upon the other until they had transformed into some kind of a hive with the queen's chamber at the center of it all, the best guarded, the most comfortable place. But unlike these expectations the room was pretty poor and there were no guards as well. There were just three foxes sitting on the cushions which covered most of the ground. A small wooden clock ticked on the wall while the man were busy cleaning their guns.

A shy knock at the door disturbed their peacefulness.

"Yes," one of them said slowly.

The door opened just a little bit so that a younger fox could get his head through it. "Father, the priest has come." He wet his lips. "He wants to speak with you."

One of the foxes rose his head. He was neither very old, nor remarkable in any other way. His fur was silvery with a little bit of a reddish shade as well, short curly hair covered his head as well as a small red cap.

Upon his slim, well trained body he wore a black vest, a red shirt with some golden decorations and tight black leather trousers. With stringent eyes he looked at the youngster in the door. "What does he want?" he asked with a well controlled voice.

The younger fox shrugged his shoulders. "He said that he just wants to say it to you."

The fox exchanged glances with the two other, older foxes. Slowly he turned towards the door again. "Let him in, but I want you and Fitte to accompany him and guard the door as long as he's in here, understood?"

The young man nodded. "Sure, dad!"

Cautiously he closed the door and the sitting man skillfully gathered the different parts of the gun he had been cleaning and quickly assembled

it again. He eyed the barrel scrupulously, then inserted a bullet and shut it with a click, laying it down right in front of his crossed legs when another shy knock at the door got audible.

"Come in," the man said loudly and instantly the door was opened by the young fox who guided the strange figure of the armadillo priest into the room. Without a word the host invited the guest to sit down while the young fox retired again, closing the door behind him.

Clumsily the priest sat down on the cushions, his worn-out tunic stretching around his scaled body like a cocoon. The armadillo could not miss the gun at the fox' feet.

"Welcome, Reverend Nsimese, in my humble demise. How do I deserve your visit?" the fox said slowly without displaying the slightest trace of irony.

The priest inhaled deeply. As usual just his pointed muzzle was visible beneath his cloak. "Greetings, Hoarde, it's been a long time since I had

the pleasure to speak with you."

"Yes, indeed," the fox agreed. "Now, Reverend Nsimese, as you might already have noticed I have urgent matters to attend." With a faint grin he waved his hand over his gun. "So I would appreciate if you told me about whatever needs my attention. I think that's best for both of us."

For a short instant the cold eye of the priest shimmered beneath the cloak but as quickly as it had gotten visible it disappeared again. "Of course! I know what a great burden it is to lead a clan such as yours, especially in times where one can't even depend on one's own son, right?"

The comment hit its target pretty well but the fox just needed the shortest moment to get his control again. If his frown had not twitched one would never have seen it but the priest noticed it and smiled secretly beneath his protecting cloth. "Indeed, so what do you want?" the fox asked much more harshly than before.

"Actually I came here to bring you good news... Well, maybe it's not good news, but... I would say that it is useful news." He stretched the last words meaningfully.

Hoarde showed no emotion. "Maybe," he replied coldly.

"However I guess that I will do you a favor by telling you this, so..."

The fox leaned forward. "If your news are worth it, I am willing to return the favor," he interrupted the armadillo as he got impatient. "You know that we are a clan of traders. We pay when we have to."

Deeply beneath his tunic Nsimese smiled again. "So... Yes! I might tell you, but..."

"What?"

The priest obviously eyed the two older foxes in the back of the small room.

Hoarde noticed his look. "You know my uncles, Reverend Nsimese. There is nothing I have to hide from them."

The priest shrugged his shoulders. "As you wish! Now, what I wanted to talk to you about is the race."

Unwillingly the fox' ears were pricked up.

"As you know...," the priest went on. "...there was a roamer, a lynx running right after Big Wheel. The one and the same lynx who injured your son severely and humiliated him in front of the whole village." The priest waited for a reaction of the fox but this one was much too self-controlled by now to show anything at all.

"I do know that," Hoarde said impatiently as the priest did not go on.

"So I guess you feel deceived about the result of the race."

The fox put on a sarcastic smile. "That's no secret."

"What if I told you that the race had been desecrated? What if I told you that there has been a fraud? What if I told you that the result of this race is invalid? And what if I told you names?" The priest had talked more and more quietly so that he was leaning over to the fox who had equally gotten closer to the armadillo.

Hoarde screwed up his eyes. "What do you want to imply?" he said carefully.

"Didn't you wonder about this lynx? A mere feline, very young and obviously not very strong, defeats your son in hand-to-hand combat..."

"What do you want to say, priest?" Hoarde hissed.

"And in the end he lets Big Wheel win, just like that! Such a formidable fighter, just behind Wheel and he lets him get away just like that..."

The fox had gritted his teeth and breathed heavily.

The armadillo enjoyed this for a moment before he went on: "Or should I say: SHE let him get away..."

The fox needed a moment to grasp the implication, his cramped face changed from anger to surprise , from surprise to doubt, from doubt to cold-blooded hatred. Meanwhile he sat up straight again and before he had even noticed himself we displayed cool self-confidence again. "This is, indeed, very interesting," he mumbled, still somehow lost in his thoughts.

"I guess someone like Big Wheel is not particularly choosy about his mates," the priest added.

"Yeah, I guess so," the fox hissed, obviously carried away by the line of his thoughts.

"And most of all..."

The fox turned around and glared at the priest.

"I know that the lynx is with the Nighthunters right now..."

Hoarde's eyes widened in surprise, then all of a sudden his features hardened and were as motionless as stone. "Thank you, Reverend Nsimese.

You can rest assured that I do know what I am supposed to do."

A smile flickered over the armadillo's lips. "I never had any doubt about that," he said politely and then added almost casually: "Unlike Storm's End the Nickel do have to defend their right, don't they?"

Once again Hoarde screwed up his eyes and glared at the priest.

"There's one last thing I wanted to ask you." He waited until the fox had fully turned towards him. "As this lynx slut has desecrated the race I wanted to be sure that she will receive proper punishment for her blasphemy."

The fox leaned forward. "You can be certain about this," he whispered. "Dead certain!"

The sun was sinking slowly, the shadows stretched and danced all over the houses and the trees in the yellowish and reddish light which shimmered in the eyes of the people on the square.

The whole square was now crowded and the few stands were absolutely overtaxed with the many requests for food and drink but nobody really seemed to care. The many voices were a constant drone, sometimes interrupted by laughter and joyous screams of children but basically everyone was just enjoying him- or herself. The men and the women stood separated and except for a few families and some younger couples the two groups were busy with oneself and thus the feast went on. Some bears were busy with preparing the large fireplace where the Moakrens[1](%5C) that had been hunted down just for this occasion were supposed to be roasted later. But traditionally the fire would not be lit until dusk and thus the people had to satisfy their hunger in different ways. But no one seemed to mind and the owners of the stands (like lots of the people, they were all outsiders who had come here just for this occasion) did not complain. No one seemed to notice that just very few members of the Big Three were present, actually there seemed to be no one at all. But the other families of the town did not worry about that as they already knew that the defeated clans were busy licking their wounds.

It was a happy gathering that he could just see with difficulties from his window. But he had run out of tears and thus he looked at the partying people like staring at the waves of a lake. Sometimes he hit his foot against the ground but then he was completely motionless again, leaning against the frame of the window.

Since a certain time he had heard faint noises from below which he could find no explanation for. Usually his clan would have been celebrating with the rest of the town. So why did they not today? It could not be just because of him. They had dealt with him, they had locked him away and now they could have enjoyed their victory and the humiliation of the two other clans. But they did not. And he was wondering why.

It sounded like they were removing the furniture, like planks of the wooden floor were removed and after some time but back in place. But the only thing that was stored there were the family's...

Suddenly he stood up straight. His tail had gotten stiff.

They hid the weapons beneath the planks! Did they get the weapons? Why did they get the weapons?

His mind was racing while the muffled noises that came up from below confirmed his suspicion: The faint, rhythmical clicking of metal was all that he needed to hear to know that they were busy, loading the guns.

What the hell was going on here?

He leaned forward to take a look at the square again: There was just a small part visible, at the end of the narrow passageway his window was facing. But it was enough because after a while he was convinced that neither any wolf was attending the party, nor a fox, nor a deer. A shiver ran down his spine.

A faint movement made him look at the opposite end of the passageway and he did not see much more than two figures disappearing behind the sawmill.

But for a fraction of a second he noticed the light brown, speckled fur of a feline the two figures had carried and although he had not seen it properly he instantly knew what that had been.

"Holy Spirits," he mumbled, holding his hand in front of his mouth. He was hardly able to keep standing.

They had the lynx! They had captured the lynx! The thought droned inside his head like the echo of thunder. And they were preparing for a fight as well!

It felt like a paw got hold of his heart and pressed it together. He was staring outside, trying to make any sense out of his observations but he knew that he would never know as long as he was locked in this room.

He was trembling with anxiety and started to walk up and down in his small room: From the window to the door, from the door to the window and back. He was breathing heavily and it seemed like every serious thought was fleeing from his mind, escaping him whenever he got close to it. There was just one thing he knew for sure: He could not wait any longer.

Suddenly he stood still, looking straight at the window: He could not stay in here! He had to get out! He had to know what was going on! He had to help his cubs! He had to help the lynx! He had to do something!

And the first thing to do was breaking this window without anyone hearing

it.

Annotation 1: A Moakren is a large flightless bird, similar to an ostrich. It is a rarely seen creature that lives in the woods, even this far to the north. Its meat is considered to be a delicacy (=tastes like chicken).

End of Chapter 3/Part 2.

Copyright 2002 by kodayu. All rights reserved.

To be continued in Chapter 4.

More on my website: [www.furry.org.au/kodayu](%5C)