Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 9

*This story is from Old Age Canon. Some of the lore may have changed. Author: WinterAnswer
 Previous: Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 8 | Continued: Her Mantle Upon Your Shoulders: Part 10
 Sequel to "His Shadow Upon Your Fate."
The training yard was loud with the drilling of soldiers, all young bodies put in motion.  One squad was busy running laps, following alongside the walls and towers that surrounded the span of the courtyard.  Wooden dummies were gored by thrown spears and bolts launched by crossbows.  Accompanied by the crack of wood on wood were the growls and grunts of those sparing with practice weapons.  Others turned their bodies into their own kind of weapon, tossing, trouncing, and beating one another.
High Officer Zulca lead the captains through the courtyard and Akuna could not keep her head and eyes still.  The muscles of arms and legs bulged, dark-haired manes bouncing and long tails whipping.  Upon the air, Akuna could smell sweat, blood, and upturned dirt, hear captains and master-at-arms shout out commands at their wards.  She had feared Vok's army would be lacking, but now such fears could hardly be recalled.  Each squad displayed the Shigu prowess of old.  Young soldiers sparred, bringing forth the vicious fire within.  Everyone hoped to prove dominance over another, to gain the approval of their peers and teachers.  Teeth flashed, growls rumbled, and claws slashed to make new wounds bleed.
"Shigu strength rings true again," High Officer Zulca's voice rose over the shouts of the training grounds, "as fresh as the day we laid conquest to the lands below ours."  He lead them through squad after squad, around crowds of soldiers as they watched their fellows spar.  It was an endless field of them, Akuna saw.  Hundreds and hundreds.  Thousands and thousands.  Zulca looked back at Akuna and Akzla to catch sight of their bewildered expressions.  "No need to fear, Akuna," he told the captain.  "All our soldiers are made of flesh and bone and blood, not wood or shadows.  Touch them if you would like, grope and feel.  I'll hold my tongue around your mate, you need not worry over that."  He laughed wholeheartedly at the jest, but Akuna was highly tempted by each group of juvenile flesh.  To say she was not enticed by the sight of young warriors in their games of combat would be a great lie.  It tickled something primal inside her, feral and longing.  Her mind rushed with thoughts of lust, images of unturned members waiting to be pleased.  Guilty reflections, she decided, but who could blame her with so much temptation so close.  Rupland would be sick with envy if he knew, but envy gave him a drive to please her every craving and every yearning.  No command of hers would be refused once they were between their sheets.
"From the young and green to the old and patch-furred," Zulca said, interrupting Akuna's inward thoughts as they continued through the clusters of training soldiery, "we recruit.  A green troop may be arrogant and full of dreams of warring valor, but she can learn and be tempered into a better warrior.  An old veteran might be crippled and invalid in battle, but she can still tutor and deter the unruly and foolish."  As he spoke, they passed by a squad headed by an ireful, gray-furred captain.  His words were scornful, aimed at a soldier no older than Brunka.  The youth bowed his head submissively, ears pulled down low.  The old captain came close to yank at the scruff of the recruit's neck with his left while his nub of a right hung uselessly at his side.
Zulca scanned the courtyard, head going to and fro before something caught his sights.  "Come, come, come," he beckoned the two captains to follow.  The three approached another squad of Shigu troops and Akuna was impressed by it's size.  At least thirty soldiers were paired off with one another while their female captain monitored them dutifully.  Akuna felt a familiarity about the captain as she walked up and down the pairs, watching her wards with careful eyes.  Only when Zulca called out her name did she fully recognize her.
"Vicris!" he called out, like the crowd had at the Blood Pool yesterday.  Immediately the pit fighter's eyes were upon them, showing only a cool expression with her dark-purple mane swaying.
"I'm Vicris when I'm in the Blood Pool, High Officer," Vicris smilingly approached them, carrying herself with a relaxed swagger.  "I'm High Captain Vicris here in the Narulus, before my warriors.  Or shall I forget your title as well, Zulca?"  She towered over the High Officer, grinning down at him with her hands placed squarely on her hips.  Her attire was far from what she wore within the Blood Pool.  Instead of the leather and light-armor of yesterday, her strangely elongated frame was modestly clothed with only a pair of green breeches.
"Ah, yes," Zulca gave a chuckle, not intimidated by the tall female before him.  "I keep forgetting that detail.  Forgive me, High Captain Vicris.  I'm sure your warriors take heed of you with either title."
"Aye, I make sure they do, but I rather enjoy the sound of my rank."  Her eyes then lifted up and found Akuna and Akzla, her smile vanishing.  "And who are these?  More females to fill your ranks?  More to fill your bed?"
Both bellowed with laughter as Akuna and Akzla stood off to the side, awkwardly waiting in silence.
"No, no, no," Zulca waved a hand dismissively, trying to control of his giggles.  "These two are guests of the keep, captains here to meet with our Grand General and make our clan whole again."
"Oh, so that's to say that you've given them a warm welcome," Vicris jested.  "Perhaps both in the same helping?"  Again, High Officer and High Captain became loud, laughs mixing with the shouts and growls of the yard.
"There are others already attending to that," Zulca assured her, ever showing his relaxed smile.  "But I had come to introduce them as new admirers.  Captain Akuna and Captain Akzla.  I had shown them to the Blood Pool yesterday where we saw you perform.  My comrades will agree that you fought boldly."
"You gave a good show," Akzla said with a smile, back stiff with respect.
Akuna was sure to show the same, tail still behind her back.  "I'm likely to come and watch you again.  You fought honorably and gave that blond-hair no dignity with his death."
The Blood Pool fighter bowed her head courteously, smile staying true.  "I have to confess I had better fights though, with opponents that could shrug off a few shallows cuts on their hide.  I had even cut the prick off a male two fortnights ago.  He wept but could still continue the fight!  Ha!"  A cruel laugh erupted from her throat.  Despite her distraction, Vicris's troops continued with their sparring, neither lingering nor forgetting their duties.
"You have a good number of soldiers under your command," Akuna observed, watching the recruits toss and tumble around on the naked dirt of the courtyard.  
"More and more are given to me every fortnight," Vicris turned back to watch her underlings, smiling proudly as if they were her own flesh and blood children.  "My name is mentioned often in taverns and bars, though not as often as Nistron's.  May he rest well with his ancestors."  Her tone had a hint of melancholy, the smile gone from her face at the mention of the now dead northern champion.  "And since we are lacking in one champion, my numbers will surely swell with cubs rearing with a bloodlust and a certain desire for a reputation."
"And what sort of reputation does your squad hold?" Akuna asked.
"One as golden as the sun," Vicris smiled again, her pride shown plain on her face.  "They're spearlancers, archers, scouts, messengers.  Whatever the task, my troops are trained and willing."
Though slightly impressed, Akuna also felt disenchanted.  "Grasper of all, but teacher of none," she observed, but not with disdain.
The female fighter did not take offense, instead a breath of laughter blew between her lips.  "A fine way of looking at it," she admitted, "but my soldiers are masters at one aspect, the most important of all.  Killing.  They are masters of bloodshed.  No matter the means, no matter the number, with an arrow, a sword, a dagger, an axe, a southerner is sure to die."
"So many choices," Akuna grunted with a laugh of her own.  "Will they have enough time on the battlefield to choose which to use?"
A long giggle was Vicris's first response.  "My troops are known for being quick-witted.  They need never worry for a delay in action.  And look..."  She came close to Akuna's side, pulling at her shoulder to focus on her sparring wards.  "Tell me what you notice about them."
Akuna did so, looking from one sparring couple to the next, looking for the subtle details that Vicris might have meant to be seen.  At first, no conclusions could be drawn, but Akuna was quick to notice something queer about the recruits' movement.  For a jab, they sidestepped it.  For a kick, they ducked.  For a charge, they rolled out of the way.  "They always dodge.  Never block."
"This one has fine eyes," Vicris said toward Zulca, pleased.
"I had said the same!" Zulca chuckled.
"My ancestors used the Wind-dancer style," the pit fighter told.  "A block requires much strength to survive a powerful blow, but there is little effort in avoiding one.  If you are parried, you give chance for a counter.  With a dodge, a wide swing leaves your opponent open to attack, enough for a blade in the gut."  Her clenched fist tapped Akuna's belly.  "Or a smile across the throat," and a claw drew lightly around Akuna's neck.  Vicris's smile was playful, inviting, and Akuna presented her own.  
"Are not your soldiers weighed down by their armor?"
"Why wear heavy plates of armor when no one can touch you?  My troops are the quickest of all, none can match their speed."
"But one misstep, one glancing blow," Akuna said, tapping two fingers against Vicris's temple, "and your skull is muss.  One cut," her claw went to the pit fighter's ribs, "and your lungs are ruptured, ribs crushed.  What then?"
"The slow have no place in my squad," Vicris stated with a certainty. 
"And nor should they," Akuna added.  I could have fine jests and many cups of ale with this one, Akuna said silently in her head.  "But are you willing to match your fighting style with mine?"
A flash of interest entered the pit fighter's eyes, staring down at Akuna from her height.  "And what is your style named?"
"If it had one, I wouldn't know," she confessed.  "But it is a style that crashes against your enemy.  To crush, throw, and trample.  Would you be willing to face me, in just a playful spar?"
"With what?" Vicris asked, seemingly accepting the challenge.  "Spear?  Sword-"
"With the limbs the gods gave us," Akuna insisted.
"And what might you like to wager?"
"Nothing.  This is just a friendly brawl.  Some pride might be lost, but nothing more."
"Pride can have more weight than gold and silver, some say," Vicris said, weighting up the large female warrior before her.
Akuna did the same, but showed only a light grin.  "The finest of bouts are done for pride."
Vicris said nothing, but her smile gained strength.  She turned, walking the valley between her sparring wards, beckoning Akuna to follow.  "Cease!" she barked out and her soldiers frooze in their place.  "Come!"  Her troops obeyed her command immediately, untangling themselves and rising from the ground to take heed of their captain.  "Watch thoroughly, children.  A duel between two captains, two styles.  Wind-dancer and Bone-breaker.  Each fine in function but which will trounce the other?  Watch now and know.  Take what lessons you will from this and it should refine your fighting knowledge evermore."  
Vicris unlaced and removed her breeches, revealing the soft puffy white fur of her pelvis.  Akuna did the same, tossing her skirt towards her fellow captain.  Akzla caught it, making a jesting wager with the High Officer.  Vicris's wards formed a ring around them, their own wagers, jests, and cheers filling the air.  Akuna fastened a leering stare upon her opponent and Vicris did the same.  
"First to yield?" Akuna asked.
"First to yield," and Vicris answered.  
Both flexed their fingers, claws extending outward and then back in.  They stretched themselves, readying their muscles.  Then they tensed in stance, hands clutched into fists.  The two females waited for an indicator for the match to begin.  But the only sound were the cheers of the wards, Zulca and Akzla standing still among their mass.  Then the cry came, reminiscent of those cries heard through the crowd of the Blood Pool.
"Vos!  Vos!  Vus!" the wards screamed.
Neither of the captains attacked, each circling the other.  Vicris wanted her to attack first, Akuna knew at once, like her style permitted.  But she waited, for a slip in her defense, for the pit fighter to flash forward first.  If she could get her to the ground and under her, the match would be short-lived.  Vicris knew this as much as Akuna did.
The wards were becoming restless.  No attack had been made, both females still circling.  Impatience weighed heavy on Akuna as well.  She lunged forward with a testing jab.  Vicris jumped back and out of it's range.  Akuna tried again, this time with an upward kick aimed at the hip.  Once more, Vicris jumped back and out of the way.  Another attack was given, a quick kick and punch, pushing Vicris back more and more.  And there, Akuna saw her chance.  She reached with her leg, hooking her foot behind Vicris's ankle.  She tucked and the pit fighter's leg was pulled under her.  For a second, she stumbled back, but caught her balance with one hand on the ground.  Akuna rushed, hoping to pin her down, but Vicris was quicker.  She spun away from the attack in a tumble.  Missing, Akuna turned about and earned a discouraging kick to her muzzle.  With her opponent momentarily stunned, Vicris rose to her feet.  Akuna did the same after blowing out a glob of blood from her nostril.
The kick had sparked Akuna's ire which only gave her more focus.  It also made her more daring.  She crowded Vicris with more and more attacks, shooting a kick at her legs and a jab at her torso.  Both missed, but Vicris retreated back more and more.  Then finally the pit fighter pushed forward in hostility.  Akuna's arm went forward, hoping to clock her in the head, but the pit fighter ducked out of sight and flowed to her right.  A fist found Akuna at the gut and a foot hard against her back.  Akuna spun to face Vicris, but then felt a sharp slap across the left side of her jaw.  Vicris then appeared, back in front of her, smiling.  Akuna smiled too, despite the pain.
Akuna stepped forward, throwing a right jab.  Vicris dodged to her left, but then found Akuna's left leg rising up.  It crashed against her ribs, but before it could descend, she grabbed after it.  Vicris' wards laughed as Akuna attempted to balance herself, hopping along on one leg as Vicris hold onto the other.  No amount of pulling would bring her free, she found.  Vicris pulled her this way and that way, trying to trip her to the dirt.  Defiantly, Akuna dropped to the ground, holding herself up with her arms as her free leg bucked wildly and kicked Vicris in the belly.  Once her left leg came loose, Akuna whirled about and leered on all fours like a feral creature at the pit fighter, tail whipping angrily behind her.  A moment's respite was given and Vicris's eyes flashed with concern before her face gave a taunting smile.
"You give quite the beastly grin, friend," the pit fighter chuckled.  "Ever made a male faint because of it?"
"Not that I can recall," Akuna answered as she rose back up, smiling as the wards laughed around her, "but I'm sure I have stolen a few heartbeats."
The two captains showed their stances and once more flew at each other with fury.  Tight swings and fast jabs came from Akuna while Vicris weaved and dodged, answering her back with painful punches and searing claws.  Another jab was aimed and thrown, but Akuna put much power in this one.  Vicris saw this too, dodged and danced around Akuna's side.  But before she could gave an assault of her own, Akuna spun opposite, her other hand powered with momentum.  The back of her fist crashed against Vicris's neck, hard.  Stunned, Vicris stumbled backwards and felt another blow hit her in the gut.  With pain lancing her body, she reeled back, but Akuna was there chasing her, mouth open with cruel delight.  The High Captain jumped back once and stood her ground.  Akuna was hoping to tackle her, but at the last second Vicris leapt to the side.  Unable to stop herself, Akuna hurled past the pit fighter's flank.  As she did, Vicris's foot came up from behind, catching Akuna under the chin.  The blow clamped her mouth shut savagely and the ground came up swiftly.  Pain filled her head, but the agony was quickly pushed out of her mind as she felt Vicris mount her back.  With rage and panic mixing, Akuna thrashed the pit fighter off her.  With hands grasping and fingers locking, Akuna kept Vicris from rising again.  I am the boulder and you are just a pebble, she thought elatedly.  Under my weight, I will smash you into sand!
The two captains tossed upon the ground, stirring up dirt and sand.  As they tumbled, the circle of wards moved in their wake.  Neither would be pinned nor trapped.  With desperation and cunning combining, Akuna's jaws opened and just as her teeth wrapped around Vicris's neck, the pinprick's of claws sank into her own neck.  Both were still now, tooth and claw pressing into flesh.  Zulca, Akzla, the wards, and even a few from other squads lingered over them, unsure of who had won.
"Suppose you wouldn't like to yield yet?" Vicris croaked, digging her claws into her opponent's throat.  Akuna answered back by grinding her teeth deeper into the pit fighter's neck flesh.   "Ah!  Fine, then.  A draw..."
"A draw!  A draw!" others around them called out, amid cheers of dismay and laughter.  The two females rose with hurried breaths after disentangling themselves from each other's grasp.  Akuna could taste blood and feel drops of crimson dripping from her nose.  She lifted up her head and found Vicris giggling heavily as she took stock of her own bleeding wounds.
"Much esteem to the fool that wagers on a draw!"  she laughed.  "No pride lost and both our styles show prowess in melee."
"One glancing blow," Akuna smiled at her, massaging her jaw tenderly.  "That's all I had to do," she held up her forefinger.  "That's all.  One glancing blow."
"And that foot to your chin is all I needed.  I hope I didn't cause you to chip one of your teeth."
Akuna rolled her tongue over her teeth, finding none misshapen or missing.  "All I have are flesh wounds and the satisfaction for a fight well fought."
"I had desired to warn you if any of my bones had been broken, I would have your word that you would take my place in the Blood Pool until I healed fully.  I have no doubt you would've done well in the pit.  It pays well.  Ever had a thought of making a name for yourself, bleeding blond-hairs for coin and amusement?"
Akuna gave that a thought.  "I hope to make a name for myself on the killing fields, cutting up blond-hairs in the name of our clan and General.  Though the offer remains...tempting."
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She ran with desperate speed, feet slapping against the cobblestone streets with each hurried step.  She felt sick with terror, her heart pacing as quick as her legs.  The growls and pounding footfall that had been at her back a few moments before were no longer there, but Brunka dared not look back to see if the southern tramps were still dogging her tail.
Despite her escape from peril, she knew her father was still in the thick of it.  Each second she took to locate the Narulus, to find her mother, the chance to secure her father's life slipped between her fingers like sand.  While still in her stride, her muzzle turned upward and her eyes attempted to find the keep of her hosts, the Narulus, brooding tall beyond the more modest buildings.  There, she saw the towers and compounds of black stone against the blue sky.  Her pace quickened as if it were calling her.
But the streets were a maze and clusters of traffic and people clogged her path.  Each length of street took longer to overcome and each moment she lost, her hope faded as well as her stamina.  Suddenly, her legs gave out and she knelt to the stone street before a storefront.  Her heart hammered wildly as if it were trying to pound it's way through her chest while her tongue lingered from her maw, stomach threatening to expel it's contents.  I can't make it, she thought sorrowfully with her tiny fists pressed hard against the road.  It's just too far away!
"Are you hurt?" a small voice asked, a voice like hers.  Turning her head towards it, she found a group of cubs, furs showing the cold colors of the north.  All five stared at her, curious and confused.  A tall black-furred male held a leather ball between his hands.  "Hello?" he said with uncertainty.  "Why are you not standing?"
"I...I can't...I...," Brunka tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat, tears forming in the corners of her eyes.
"Ah, she can't," one of the female cubs decided.
"She's a cripple?" another one asked.
"She doesn't look like a cripple to me," another observed.
"Hey, is that what you are?" the black-furred male asked.  "A cripple?  What's wrong with you?"
"She's crying now."
"No...," Brunka growled, pulling back the tears and the pain in her throat.  "I have to...try.  Father, please...."  She rose up, muzzle held up straight and forward.
"Oh, she can walk," one of the cubs said.
And she was off again, legs animated with a new kind of strength, her heart pumping with the same kind of fear.
"And she can run!  Fast too!"
She sped through and past crowds of buyers, merchants, panhandlers, and folk of all sorts.  Some she dodged and others she pushed out of the way.  She left those yelling behind her, but none gave chase.  It's too far, but perhaps someone can help me.  None of the people that traversed the street looked to have the power or muscle to fight.  Nor did they seem to carry any weapons.  The few that did wore only small daggers strapped to their hips.
The moment she entered the city square, the gleam of metal caught her eye.  Across the square, beside a merchant's stall, two city guards stood sentinel.  One removed his helmet and poured some water from a canteen upon his head, relinquishing some of the day's heat.  Brunka's feet nearly tangled underneath her as she ran forward and yelled, waving her arms frantically above her head.
"Help!  Please, please!  Help!"  Heads turned her way and quickly the guards' eyes targeted her.  The one with the wet mane placed his helmet back on his head and said something to his partner to his left.  "I need your help!  My father is hurt!  Please, please, please!  He's needs your help!  He's being attacked!"
Wet-head gave his partner a cautious expression before turning back to the cub.  "Where?  Who is attacking him?"  His voice had only a hint of concern.
"Southerners.  A group of them!  Please!  Come!  We have to go before he dies!  Please!"  Her tears came at full force, wetting the fur around her cheeks.  The two guards seemed surprised at the sight of such emotion.  They straightened their backs and gripped the hilts of their sheathed swords.
"Show us.  Now!"
Brunka nodded and turned back the way she came.  The two guards followed, their armor clanking with each of their steps.  "Slow down!  Damn!" Wet-mane said but the cub's speed never lessened.
"You best be telling us true, cub," his partner panted.  "Or I'll be the one to strip the hide off your ass if you're lying to us."
My mother will do worse than that if I don't get there in time, she thought as her fear worsened.
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"So which have you chosen?" Zulca asked.  The combined shouts of the squads were just a murmur from where they stood, away from the play melees under the shadow of a black wall.
"What do you mean?" Akuna asked, watching Vicris demonstrate a sword strike to one of her wards.  First she showed it herself then she watched the ward execute the same.  The ward gained a smack to the skull for her slack performance and she was told to try the move again.  Another slap was given after the second and third try.
"Which master-at-arms have you chosen for your cub?" Zulca smiled, waving a hand over the clusters of troops trampling the grounds of the keep's yard.  "Is it Calcu's Red Daggers?" he pointed to an aged veteran with a shaggy mane.  "Or perhaps Hains with his Resmods squad?  Or might I suggest Insin's Warchildren squad?  His troops are just as young as yours, but I have to confess, the majority are orphans, offspring of soldiers that died with blades in their hands and all honor in their hearts."
"You confess," Akuna turned to him with displeasure plain on her face, "but excuse me if I might feel a bit offended by your proposal."
"Not my intent," the High Officer held up a hand defensively.  "I only suggested with knowing Insin is a stern teacher, and is able to steer the most unruly of cubs on the right path."
"And now you suggest my Brunka is unruly?"
"No, no, no," Zulca shook his head, "but a mother must be fastidious with the master-at-arms they wish to train their children in the various arts of warfare."
"There is no point in worrying over such a detail.  I plan to watch over Brunka's training at the closest with her by my side.  She will learn the techniques of hand and claw, sword and spear, tactics and knowledge from me.  Anyone else would be of lesser gain."
"Where do you find the time?" Zulca teased.  "A general lets her advisors handle the officers.  And the officers are told to look after the captains.  And the captains are tasked with managing the majority of the army.  No one would fault you for allowing another to oversee your daughter's progress in her war trade.  Whoever it should be, Brunka is guaranteed to find easy kills and easy comrades all around her."
"I have no doubt of such as well," the female captain said, "but my grip on her reigns is tight and I would never allow it to loosen.  She is my own and I want the certainty she has the skills that have seen my own life unharmed and my enemies dead."
"You sound steadfast to that idea," Zulca grinned.  "I wish you and your cub all the best, praying your blades remain strong and sharp, and ever drenched in the blood of the southerners."
"Your prays are welcomed," Akuna gave a grateful nod of her head.  But unneeded, she said in her mind.  The grace of the gods are already upon us, she knew.  The sight of the churning squads before her was sufficient evidence of that.  Even so, something had been pricking at her fur for a good few hours this day.  "But I had desired a moment of conversation with you, High Officer" she began.
"Oh?  Concerning what matter?" he asked, voice full of curiosity.
"That prisoner, the one that you poked at with your sword in the dungeons.  I had-,"  Suddenly, a hush overtook the courtyard, all conversations put to an abrupt end.  Recruits and veterans alike took to silence, heads turned towards the north wall of the keep where the main compound of the Narulus conquered much of the sky.  A line of guards crossed the yard towards them, pulling along a string of southerners bound by roughspun rope.  A group of twenty, Akuna counted, bewildered by the sudden quiet and appearance of the guards.  But she soon realized who led the southern captives:  Grand General Hashin Vok.
His garb was light, nothing more than a pair of breeches and a sash running across his chest, black fabric against the dark gray and white of his fur.  Lastly, his sword, the thin black blade gifted to him by that nevrean, remained holstered at his hip.
You could hear the entirety of the squads shuffle into an unified salute, left hand over their left eye.  The lead southerner tripped slightly as Hashin tugged none too lightly on the rope, leading them to stand before the great mass of Shigu soldiery.
Akuna and her party came nearer to the groups as Hashin began to speak.  "When my soldiers grow with thirst, they quench it with blood," he yelled out over the courtyard, every ear twitching to listen to each word donated.  The rope was given to a guard as Vok walked up and down the line of southerners.  The captives were made to kneel, guards forcing them to the dirt or kicking the back of their legs.  Some wept with their hands up over their faces.  Others remained content in silence, indifferent to their fate.  "When their bellies become empty, they fill it with flesh.  Blond-hair blood.  Blond-hair flesh."  
Vok's black blade came singing out of it's scabbard, gleaming dully in the afternoon sunlight.  The Grand General's walk to the first captive was slow, calm and heavy with purpose.  Each of the prisoners were thin but not with malnutrition, fur sullen and unwashed.  Vok approached the first captive, a youth shaking violently as if some frigid winds tormented only him.  The male looked up at the Grand General with wide eyes hinted with both fear and rage.
There was a tightness around Vok's eyes, tension on his brow as if being so close to a southerner caused him great disgust.  But soon something on the verge of a smile manifested, his lips stretching only slightly.  His black blade rose and hovered over the southerner's shoulder.  One moment, the blade moved away, but the next it came back with hostile speed.  Blood flowed profusely from the line across the youth's throat, red running down his neck and over his chest.  The body flopped pathetically forward, the head detaching itself from the shoulders to roll towards Vok.  Swiftly, he kicked it away.  Blood continued to spew forth from the neck, red washing over brown and yellow.  Instead of avoiding it, Vok allowed his feet to bathe in the fresh, warm crimson of his enemy.
Leaving red footprints in the dirt, he came to the next prisoner and dealt the same with his sword.  Then came the next and the next and the next.  But some were not given such a quick death like a swift slash across the jugular.  For a female that Akuna reckoned was nothing more than a whore, Vok's sword penetrated her through the heart.  Her weeping grew great with volume before it turned into a light whimper.  Another, an old male with his fur shedding from his hide, had his hands severed from his wrists in one savage slice.  Vok left the invalid to bleed to death in pain.  A heavily scarred male had the left face of his face sheared clean off with one swipe and his muzzle with the next.  With each chuck of flesh severed, the scent of blood took hold over the air.  
Each kill was a show, a comedy of blood and wails of pain.  The recruits, captains, and officers grew loud with laughter after another southern life was cut away.  Akuna cackled the most when Vok drove his black sword down through a yellow female's left shoulder, brought it back up and then down the right shoulder.  Her cries were the loudest yet and Akuna could hardly draw in a breath as the female's throat gargled and frothed with blood.
But the height of the soldiers' cheers came when Vok approached one particular kneeling female.  Her arms drew around her large stomach which was unmistakably thick with child.  At the sight of the bloodied black blade, the female leaned forward and sheltered her belly from Vok's downward gaze.  The blade moved close and she jumped at it's quick slash, but she soon realized her flesh had not been harmed.  Instead, the ropes around her wrists had been cut, her hands free.  Hashin reached down and pulled her up by the arm and to her feet.  The pregnant female's expression was incredulous as was the reaction from the Shigu infantry.  The female's eyes found Vok's and for a moment her mouth gave hint of words, but the blade poking her belly would not wait for her to speak.
The sword purged into her stomach suddenly and savagely, liquid of the womb spilling to the ground as Vok slit her open.  With his free hand, he reached in and revealed the naked and pink unborn cub.  The soldiers screamed at the sight of it, not in horror, but in joy.  The umbilical cord was quickly severed and the mother was kicked away.  Her feet tangled beneath her and she slammed to the dirt, blood spilling from her opened womb.  She tried to rise and fight, but her wound was too great and her legs too weak.  Hashin clutched the twitching child in his hand and held it up for the mother to see. She could only watch, tears flowing into her fur as her throat filled with pleads and curses.  Hashin's jaws opened, maw waiting to receive the child.  Eagerly and without restraint, he snapped the underdeveloped cub's head with one bite.  Next came a crunch, like the first bite into a fresh fruit.  Blood rushed down his chin before his throat convulsed with a swallow.  The Grand General took no interest in the rest of the infant and tossed the remains away.  Soon he was upon the mother again, her arms wrapped around her empty belly.  She gave the shrillest of cries that marred the air.  Silence was given by the Grand General's black blade as he cut the upper half of her head from the lower.
After it all, Vok's fur and cloth was coated in red, Clan Shigu's color.  Sheathing his sword, he grinned and beckoned his subordinates closer.  "I've had my fill for my midday meal.  Come and have your fill too." 
The officers and high captains came first, using daggers to slice away the furred hide and cut into the muscles of the thighs and shoulders.  Akuna and her party watched from afar, her mouth salivating at the sight and smell of such juicy pieces of flesh.  Before long, Hashin took his leave as the troops moved in and began to devour his charity.
"Pity there will not be enough for us," Zulca said but without mourning.  "So many soldiers and it takes so many lives to feed them all."
"Akuna has the girth to devour three whole," Akzla giggled, but her fellow captain paid her no mind.
"He's as cruel as the General," Akuna said, her eyes on the soldiers as they crowded around the dead southerners to take their share.  "But I have to say I would think if the General had been here, she would have eaten the entire babe.  Right up until there was no more meat upon it's tiny bones."
"The General was indeed a preferrer of flesh most tender, flesh most virgin," Zulca chuckled.  "Both in her stomach and in her bed."  
Akuna saw Vicris exit the crowd and approach them.  She offered each of them a slice of flesh, still slightly warm.  "From the youngster," she advised them.  "Soft meat.  Good meat."  Taking a bite of her own slice, she smiled down at Akuna and the large female was quick to return it.
"Who did you enjoy watching perish the most, Vicris?" Akuna offered, actually curious.  "I find the wailing and tears of the females most entertaining.  That pregnant one actually seemed eager to fight, pity she didn't have the strength to pose a threat."
The pit fighter gave a shrug, tongue coming out to lick at her black lips.  "I enjoy watching the proud ones die.  When the cut is close, the fear is not shown, but whenever the wound is made, the fear spills out like blood.  Pain is there too, but fear most of all.  In the eyes."  She grinned, a claw pointed at her orbs.  "It's as quick as lightning, but it's as sweet as spring rain if you ever catch it."
"I've seen it too," Akuna said.  "On the battlefield.  I believe it signals, most of all, regret.  A missed parry or block.  A stroke held back.  The southerners fear death just as much as they fear us."  She took another bite of her meat, savoring the taste and texture.
"And you do not fear death, Akuna?" Vicris provided, swallowing down a bite.
Akuna saw the teasing glare the High Captain gave.  "I fear the uselessness of old age and being crippled"  If that were to happen, death would be a gift, she thought, but the moment that came into her mind, images of Rully and her children flooded back from memory.
Vicris saw the gloom enter Akuna's expression.  "The meat is not settling well?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.
"Ah, no," Akuna shook her head, the sadness melting from her face to show a stone expression again.  "I happened upon a memory.  A comrade's suicide, back at Rellon.  Tell me, High Officer," she turned to Zulca, "how often do you find a fellow soldier has spilt their blood with their own blade?"
Zulca's eyes took on a serious glare, jaws convulsing in a slow chew.  "My own blood turns cold at the mention of such things," he said quietly.  "I cannot conjure up a sum of all the suicides I've heard tell of, be they of great or small mention.  But I can tell you I have no recollection of any, at least within the city, since Wevren has blossomed."
"There is hope upon these sands and in great abundance," she said as her eyes drew over the thousands of Shigu soldiery.  "I pray news of our renewed might breathes faith in those with doubt.  A sad thought to think of all those souls lost to their own hands and fears."
"Sad?  Ha!" Vicris laughed aloud, licking her bloody fingers.  "Why should we mourn the loss of weak souls who do not know whom to point their blades at or the proper way we should sacrifice our lives?  Only cowards of the lowest sort surrender their vigor and fury for loathing and sloth.  The only proper path of death is at the call of battle with a blade in your hand that's wet with the enemy's blood."  She spat out a glob of pink saliva to the dirt.  "Let cowards rot."
"Few will miss them," Zulca agreed, nodding as he finished his meat.
Akuna said nothing and nodded with them, thinking her meat had taken on a sour flavor.  But then came the sound of feet shuffling the dirt of the yard and the clamor of armor.  Looking up, Akuna watched a keep guard approach, black fur peeking through the spaces in his armor.  He rushed to the side of Zulca, placing his muzzle close to his ear.  Whatever words he donated to the High Officer, Akuna or Akzla could not hear, but once they were dispensed Zulca's orbs turned wide and worrisome.
"Akuna," he immediately turned to her, tone full of dread, "we have to go.  Dire news."
"What news?" Akuna asked, tail twitching anxiously behind her.
"Your mate.  Rupland.  He's been injured, heavily.  Near the Saido district."
A chill ran through her instantly, hairs pricking up all over her hide.  "He...he was suppose to stay in-What of my daughter?  Where is Brunka?"  Rage and fear and confusion came all at once, mixing and churning in her stomach.
"The little one is with the father," the black-furred guard advised her.  "Come with and we will show you right to them, ma'am."
"I will come as well," Zulca said, wiping his dirtied hands on his hairy forearms.
"And I as well," Vicris spoke up, throwing her leftover meat to the ground.  "Allow me gather up a few of my own."  She began jogging towards the mass of training squads.
"An armed escort shouldn't be necessary," Zulca suggested to her back.
"It will if you wish to get her to her mate in a timely manner."
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Vicris had been right.  Her soldiers were much needed if they were to surf the thronged streets of the city.  Most of the folk dispersed at the howls of the unarmored warriors as they dashed over the cobblestone roads.  Others were made to move by a shove or a push.  Akuna watched as a gray-furred mother  was tossed out of the way and to the stony street, loaves of baked bread tumbling from her woven basket.  A sympathetic thought was given to her before Akuna turned her attention back to her mate.  Her foot-claws carved gashes into the stones under her as she sped forward.
Damn you, Rupland, she snarled inwardly.  Damn you for leaving the bed chamber and damn you if I find you brought Brunka to harm.  A flurry of thoughts bore down upon her mind.  How injured was he?  Had Brunka escape injury?  Already her mate had lost an eye, taken in battle, and it would not help him to become crippled.  The prospect of such made Akuna ache with fear, praying a silent prayer that all his life and limb and flesh would be found intact.  She prayed just as dreadfully for her cub, not knowing what she would do if Brunka was rendered invalid.  She cast those thoughts aside, her heart beating in her throat.
They flew down street after street, turning down a different road and turning to another to pass through several intersections.  Traffic grew lighter, the streets less clean, all trust given to this black-furred guard and his sense of direction.  Vicris and Zulca ran alongside Akuna, all three housed within a ring of young recruits.  Each soldier was tight in formation and merciless in intent as if they were tasked with an objective given from General Rain herself.  Right and left, they turned again, the city a labyrinth before them.  Hints of panic began to sink it's teeth into Akuna before they slowed at a three-storied building.  Akuna crashed through it's entrance and immediately gained the stares of the occupants inside.
Her eyes passed over those that she did not recognize:  A crone of a female with fur white as snow, a male drabbed in a robe patched with different fabrics, a younger female sitting in a chair with her right leg placed in a splint.  There were various others tending to the wounded and sick that laid among several rows of beds.  Then the small figure came caught her attention.  She turned her head and found the familiar gray fur and the same fearful eyes the child would show when her confidence would fail her.  In her arms, she grasped a small, black-button eyed doll stitched of blue tread.  A small bit of fear left Akuna, but a great amount still lingered. 
Akuna's attention then turned to the bed Brunka stood next to and the robed healer that hovered over it.  She approached with long strides, the healer moving aside for her and her entourage to see.
"A most announced entrance," Rupland groaned with a weak smile on his face despite the swelling under his eye.  The rest of his clothes-less body was even more distressing.  The mattress he laid upon was speckled with blood.  Wet lines of red could been seen on his legs and thighs, arms and chest.  His right foot was abnormally large with swelling.  A slash along the side of his belly was being tended to by the healer's stitching.  Another hole was found at his shoulder, leaking red into his fur.  His hands rested at his sides, bleeding as well.
"Nothing of deathly concern," the healer told them as he closed a cut.
Vicris moved around the bed, examining the damage.  When she reached his right side, she gasped.  "Damn them.  They took his eye."
Rupland groaned with something of a laugh.  "I'm afraid that was already afflicted upon me before the attack."
"Who?" Akuna asked as she attempted to restrain her anger.
Rupland's one good eye found her, glistening from the light that poured in from the windows.  "Southerners," he told them with a deflated tone.  "They believed I hid some fortune of wealth in my jacket pockets, but only found dust and air.  I suppose they thought maybe I hid all my coins in my guts."  He laughed, but an aching pain cut it short.
"How many?" Akuna asked next, fists clenched tight at her sides.
"Five," Rupland answered after a long sigh.  "I think I killed one."
"One was indeed dead on the street where the attack occurred," a city watch guard answered from the right side of the room, back against the wall and his arms folded over his armored chest.  "The others left bleeding before we could happen upon them."
"Five and only one dead."  Akuna's orbs then turned Brunka whom had a guilty expression across her face, doll held to her chest as if it were a living cub.  "Perhaps all five would be dead on the street if someone had the spirits to fight!"  Her arm leapt, grabbed Brunka by the ear and squeezed.
"I'm sorry!  I'm sorry! I didn't want to run!  I'm sorry!" Brunka pleaded, bracing for a slap or a jab if it came.
"Akuna!  Please!" her mate begged before one could be dealt.  His bloody fingers reached for her, but were only so close.  "She ran at my demand.  She didn't even have a weapon."
"And you didn't have the sense to arm her with one?" Akuna turned on her mate, her ire most evident.
"A moment's leave of my wits," he confessed tiredly.  "The fault is mine and mine alone.  Don't pain the child for my idiocy."
"Idiocy is a gentle word for it!" Akuna fumed, her fur bristling fully as she continued to squeeze her child's ear tightly.  "Your moment's leave of wits could have been the death of you and our cub!  And no less by southern hands!"  Whilst in a snarl, she whipped her head towards the city guard relaxing his back against the wooden panels of the wall.  "Find the damned inbreds that did this!  All of them!  Have them brought to me alive so that I might enjoy biting off their male hoods and lower tongues alike!"
A slight twitch reverberated through the city guard's swaying tail, his posture denying any sign of urgency.  "We already have patrols sweeping the slums, ma'am.  But make no wagers when we'll find the thin-limbs.  Like little rodents, they scurry and hide in their little holes."
The guard's lax tone only fed the flames of Akuna's wrath.  "Are you always this calm when one of your own race has been attacked?  Are you castrated?  No vigor in your little sack?  I'll see whatever rank you have stripped from you when I speak to the Grand General about this."
"Hold your tongue, Captain!" Zulca spoke up, his own fierceness showing.  "You forget yourself and the power of your influence.  Our city watch are not gentle and have no tolerance for unruly blond-hairs.  The fiends that did this to your mate will not walk the city without fear if they recognized."
"What did these southerners look like?" the city guard then asked, remembering his duty.
"There was a female," Rupland said, his chest heaving painfully as he spoke.  "Old and dirty and looking to be with disease.  I believe the rest were males, one possessing the broad muscles of a northerner.  I...I can't tell of the others."
"We'll give the street urchins a proposal, like we have before," the city guard said.  "A handful of coin for each malcontent surrendered to us.  And if any are caught aiding them, they'll be hang or gutted like the rest.  You'd be most surprised at how quickly they are to betray one of their fellows."
"Not surprising at all," Vicris's voice came to their ears.  "A southerner's virtue is greed instead of loyalty."
"Why are there southerners walking the streets freely, let alone a group of them?" Akuna asked more gently despite the anger that still boiled within her.
"No southerner is free within Wevren's walls, ma'am," the guard told her.  "Some districts are dedicated to the housing of slaves and if the slaver is absent-minded enough to not chain his herd then they  mistake themselves as citizens.  It is known that any southerner found walking the same road with a northerner, they are to be jailed until their master is located.  Most often they are forgotten and starve in their cells."
"I'll want the offenders brought to the Narulus still with meat on their bones," Akuna growled.  "I'll flay them all and bash the diseased one's head until her brains leak through her ears.  Are you about done yet?" she asked the healer that was still tending to Rupland's wounds.
"I'm almost done with his dressings," the robed male told her, his hands careful and most gentle.  "Though I wouldn't move him.  Otherwise my good stitching will not hold."
"Just clean the wounds and bandage the most severe of the lot," Zulca demanded.  "We'll take him to the Narulus and have our own healer look over him," he assured Akuna.
"Fetch a litter," Vicris commanded her soldiers.  "My troops will see to carrying him."
"A moment's respite," the city guard pushed off the wall.  "I want a better description of these southerners.  Think hard this time," he advised, looking down at Rupland.  "The smallest of details would help us.  The tone of their fur, maybe.  A scar, the color of the eyes, and so forth.  Anything..."
Rupland stared up at the ceiling of this healing house, recollection filling his expression, but soon it turned to frustration.  "I'm sorry but...the female had gray eyes.  They were all blond, maybe dark blond.  But...that's all I can say.  I'm sorry."
They were at a slow trot once they returned to Wevren's streets, two of Vicris's troopers tasked with carrying Rupland's litter.  
Akuna's rage was still as strong as a storm.  It only came second to what she felt when she looked down upon the bloodied bandages and stitched slashes that marred her mate.  Was it shame she felt?  Or relief?  She would not meet his gaze as she walked at his side.  Brunka could be found on the opposite side of the litter, one hand holding her father's while the other held her doll close.  My anger still burns hot for you, my little one, Akuna thought.  My small absence has made you soft like wet clay after rain.  You are limp in my hands, but I will mold you into something strong and bake you in the fires of my fury.
Category:Fan Fiction
Category:Old Age Canon
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