 
### HEALF

### REGENERATIONS

### Will Decker

### Book 4 in the HEALF SCI-FI Series

Copyright 2004 by WILL DECKER

Smashwords Edition

WILL DECKER has asserted his right under the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988 to be identified as the author of this work.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means, graphic, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or by any information storage or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the copyright owner, as allowed under the terms and conditions under which it was purchased, or as strictly permitted by applicable copyright law, or in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

REGENERATIONS is a work of fiction. The resemblance of any characters to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Names, characters, places, brands, media, situations, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

This eBook may not be re-sold or given away except with written permission from the author or as otherwise permitted through special promotions and programs.

A special thank you to everyone that has made this story possible. My beta reader, my proof reader, and to you the readers. I sincerely hope you enjoy this work of fiction.

Will

More Exciting Stories by Will Decker:

DRIVEN

UNREQUITED LOVE

FIRE BABY

HYBRID KILLERS

The 'HEÄLF' Collection:

MORTALITY REVISITED

CLONE WARS

DAY OF NIGHT

REGENERATIONS

HORSPAW

The 'Mac" Collection:

THE WITNESS

TOXIC RAIN

BETRAYAL

RECORD KEEPER

DEATH IN THE DUNES

WIT-SEC FAIL

SIMPLY PERFECT BINDING 2ND Ed.

If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review.

Authors starve or eat based on reviews. Thanking you from the pit of my stomach, WILL

Table of Contents:

Intro to Horspaw

More

### **1**

"He is a very nice young man!" Leeta stated emphatically.

"He is no different from all the others!" Hig argued, equally emphatic. "He looks at our Loté with the same look in his eye as every other young buck; he wants but one thing!"

"That may be true, but I see something more in him, something deeper." She paused for a moment before adding, "Are you forgetting that he is a pilot?"

"Was a pilot!" he quickly retorted, feeling as if he might be gaining the upper hand in their dispute. "How could I forget when you are constantly reminding me?"

"She is wise for her age; she will know when she has met the right man, whether he is a pilot or otherwise. Yet, if it turns out that she will mate with this man, his status as a pilot would make life very easy for us in our elderly years."

"How can you talk that way!" he hissed, incredulous that she could speak so openly of such a delicate subject, especially when it so candidly bordered on a future that was uncertain at best.

"Is it not true?" she heatedly fired back, her intensity maintaining a level with his. "Look at him! He is strong, handsome, and very intelligent; a mother couldn't wish for more from a prospective son-in-law! He would make our Loté very happy."

"That may be so, but you will not speak of such matters to our daughter. If she develops feelings for this man, they will be because of something she feels from within, not because she feels pressured from without!"

"Fine! I will say nothing of my sentiments openly. But between you and me, you haven't heard the end of this!"

"Listen," he suddenly hissed at her, the tone of his voice changing to reflect a sudden distraction from their conversation, while delivering a warning mixed with an awareness of their immediate surroundings.

"What?" she hesitantly demanded. "I hear nothing." After a brief pause, in which she heard nothing out of the ordinary, she continued, "Do not think that you can change the subject by distracting me. Loté and that young man cannot hear us up here, sitting astride this huge behemoth."

Although she wasn't completely convinced that he had actually heard anything, she kept her voice subdued.

Instead of replying with another sharp retort, he held his fingers to his mouth, quickly dispelling all remaining doubts of his seriousness. They had been riding on the back of the behemoth for several hours; ever since the pilot, and topic of their debate, Captain Rodick, had displayed an immense amount of courage by approaching the animal and discovering that it wasn't dangerous, only lonely for human contact.

Now, suddenly, the animal was acting peculiar; like Hig, it also sensed impending danger. In just the last few minutes, the creature began showing signs of nervousness. Even through the heavy layer of skin and course hair, he could feel the growing tension in the animal's tremendous musculature. In addition, despite the old beast's advancing age, up until just recently the ride had been smooth and rhythmic. Now, each step could be felt with a bone-jarring rigidity and stiffness.

Tightening his grip on the unsophisticated harness that Loté, their young and beautiful daughter, had fashioned for him and Leeta in order to secure them to the creature's back, he softly whispered to her to remain quiet. She now believed that her husband and mate of many years sensed something real, something dangerous. Despite the paralysis that she'd had to endure for the majority of her life in her lower body, she too felt the mounting tension in the behemoth's gate.

Just as he turned to signal to his daughter that he sensed danger ahead, an ear-shattering screech tore through the still air! Too late, as the ugly beasts descended upon them from the jungle canopy high above their heads, he realized the danger to his daughter and the young pilot on the jungle floor behind them.

The air was filled with the cries of scavenger beasts, native inhabitants of Heälf. Although they normally didn't attack humans, preferring instead to comb the eastern horizon where the dead and dying eventually came to rest, this band was the exception. They were hungry, and hunger can drive almost any creature to take extreme measures, even when it didn't fit their normal behavior pattern.

As Hig quickly discovered, the height afforded them on the back of the huge behemoth provided little protection from the creature's attack. Unlike most animals of prey, the scavengers attacking them lived in the jungle canopy, and thus dropped from tremendous heights to land on their victims. With long, sharp, talon-like claws on their hands and feet that were capable of shredding even the hide of a behemoth, a single rake down the front would easily disembowel a man. Moreover, their nine-foot height and proportionate limbs gave them the advantage in a hand-to-hand fight, even if the man was armed with a knife.

Fortunately, they rarely if ever attacked humans. They were far more apt to skirt a tribe's campsite by a considerable distance in order to avoid contact. Yet, they wouldn't hesitate to kill and eat the infirm humans they encountered in their continual search for food. It was irrelevant to them that the humans had been abandoned by their respective tribes; they were just following their nature.

With a tenacity and flexibility that belied his aged looks, Hig positioned himself over Leeta's frail form. Using his feet and one hand to secure himself to the behemoth's back, he gripped his knife with his free hand; he would die before he would let the beasts get to his mate. A long time ago, he had been unable to protect her, and the consequences were her paralysis; he swore that he would never let that happen again!

Even as the first beast landed on the behemoth's broad head, the talons on its feet curling into the thick hide for support, the behemoth let out a cry of pain and drove its head into the thick trunk of a tree, crushing the beast in a spray of blood and gore.

With a tremendous lurch, the behemoth bolted forward, almost throwing Hig from its back. Although he would have been surprised if the harness had not held, he still felt a brief moment of pride at his daughter's fine display of workmanship.

To his great dismay, in the crashing moment of chaos, the knife that he treasured so dearly had slipped from his grasp, as he struggled madly just to hold on. Aside from a flagon of water and a small pack, they had very little in the way of supplies, while the behemoth charged madly forward through the jungle, carrying them ever farther from the fight, as well as their daughter.

Even as he considered their situation, his thoughts were dominated by those of concern for Loté, and how she was fairing against the scavenging beasts. Even with the young pilot at her side, they were facing overwhelming numbers of the horrendous creatures.

Just as the behemoth appeared to be slowing, there was a loud explosion in the jungle behind them. With blood running from the pair of wounds on the behemoth's massive forehead, the loud noise spurred the creature on, driving it forward at even greater speed. With the smell and taste of its own blood being sucked into its mouth, the creature grew wild with fear. Until it ran itself to death, or calmed enough to stop, Leeta and Hig could do nothing but hang on. In a matter of seconds, their lives had become one with the behemoth's!

Breathing hard and bouncing roughly to the rhythm of the behemoth's footfalls, Hig began to wonder how much longer he could hold on. Even Leeta, secured to the behemoth's back, was showing the strain of the ride, not to mention the worry and concern that she felt for her daughter and the pilot.

Minutes turned into hours, hours into eternity, and yet the creature didn't stop. Hig found it hard to believe that such an old animal could have so much life left in it.

Before he realized it, the ride had turned into an unending blur, while his thoughts turned introspective. He found himself contemplating their decision to leave the tribe when they had. It was a decision based on pride and nothing more. Many of their fellow tribesmen had offered to help them in an effort to keep them from leaving. Even young braves, understanding that they would inherit the responsibility of an old man and a disabled old woman had pledged offers of marriage to Loté in an attempt to keep them within the tribe. And yet, because of his pride, he couldn't accept their generosity. Now he questioned his actions. Was it fair to Loté and Leeta? What did he think Loté would do? Although he had asked her to stay with the tribe, he knew that she wouldn't. Had his decision to leave affected her chance at happiness with a man and a familial tribe?

If they hadn't found the pilot when they had, they never would have managed to stay as far ahead of the rising sun as they had. He blamed himself and his stupid pride for banishing his family from everything they knew and cherished, and condemning them to a slow, painful death! How could he have let himself be so selfish?

The beast beneath them was old, even for a behemoth, which can live for more than two human life spans, and yet it continues to fight so that it can live for yet another day. It is not selfish, it doesn't throw them off so that it can move easier, and neither would their tribe. He had always been proud of his tribe and the comradery they'd enjoyed; what made him think that they would regret having to assist him and his family?

While his thoughts raced on, so did the behemoth, always moving westward. As the jungle flew by them in a green blur, he distractedly prayed for the beast to stop. At one point, he wished for his knife, thinking that he could kill it before it killed them. Yet, he knew that even if he still had his knife, and even if he could find it within himself to stab the beast, he wasn't sure that he could find it within his heart to hurt the poor creature anymore than it already was. In fact, his feeble efforts might only draw the creature's attention to him and Leeta, and their free ride might not end so amicably.

After a tortuous time of indecision, the futility of their situation sank in. Short of cutting Leeta loose and throwing themselves from the creature's back, they were along for the ride. Although the behemoth was rapidly carrying them away from their daughter, it was carrying them westward, away from the rising sun. With each jarring footfall that crushed the vegetation beneath it, they drew closer to their old tribe. If they held on, and the beast didn't die beneath them, or kill them when its heart finally gave up and it sent them crashing to the hard surface, they would continue forward and search for their tribe. If Loté and the pilot survive the scavengers, she will know where to find them. All they had to do was hold on, and outlive the behemoth!

At some point, exhaustion overcame him and he dozed off. When he woke, he immediately became aware that the behemoth had slowed to a trot. Anxiously, he looked toward his mate. With relief, he saw that she also slept. Although he couldn't be sure, he guessed that he'd been sleeping for several hours.

Turning stiffly toward the east, he realized why he hadn't fallen off the behemoth while he'd slept; his hand had cramped into a stiff claw that was white from the tension of his grip. Try as he might, he couldn't force his fingers to release their hold from the braided-cord harness.

Staring back to the east, he realized also with a small amount of satisfaction that they had traveled many miles. Judging by the brightness on the horizon, he guesstimated that they must have covered nearly half the distance back to their tribe. He based his estimate on the tribe adhering to its normal routine, and not varying by waiting on search parties that they might have sent out in search of him and his family. Of course, he didn't expect them to come after his family, and he would have fought them off if they had tried to bring them back by force. However, that was an unlikely scenario, considering how his tribe's people valued their individual rights. They would never force anyone to do anything that they didn't want to do, unless it infringed upon the rights of others.

Turning stiffly back to the west, all the while massaging his numb hand with the other, he further counted his blessings; the height of the behemoth allowed them the luxury of riding above the undergrowth, yet not so high that they had to worry about branches from the jungle canopy almost two hundred feet above them.

Even as he considered these things, Leeta's eyes fluttered open. She immediately sensed that the creature had slowed, and she smiled up at her mate. Almost as if the creature sensed her waking, it blew loudly through its nose, a thick spray of mucous and blood momentarily fogging the air around them; the behemoth was dying; yet, it didn't stop.

As the pink mist settled over Hig and Leeta, her smile faded. Because the beast had served them well, and continued to serve them even as it breathed its last breaths, they felt an attachment to it.

"You must stop the poor creature," begged Leeta suddenly.

Looking back hopelessly at Leeta, he weakly argued, "There is nothing that I can do for it, woman."

With a fire coming to life in her eyes, she suddenly argued with him, "Take my wrap and throw it over its eyes. Maybe if it can't see, it will stop!"

"Even if I were able to stop it now, I'm afraid it's too late, there is nothing we can do for the poor creature. You saw the blood in its blow."

"We will never know if we don't try!" she screamed vehemently at him.

Pulling her wrap from around her thin, frail body, he carefully balanced himself out over the beast's massive forehead. Fortunately, the behemoth had slowed to a gentle stroll, its heavy footfalls broken by the soft vegetation growing thickly over the hard crust of the surface below. As Hig held the soft leather wrap out before him, he could see that in order to cover the behemoth's sight, he would have to center the wrap precisely, or one eye would remain uncovered, allowing the creature to see.

Balancing precariously over the creature's head, he flapped Leeta's wrap out and down. It landed with a wet, sticky sound, effectively blinding the massive beast.

Without warning, the behemoth pulled up short, sending Hig sailing from his uncertain perch. Although he would land hard, possibly incurring fatal injuries in the process, the wrap remained adhered to the creature's blood and mucous covered face; it wouldn't trample him beneath its broad feet.

Before he realized fully what had happened to him, he was lying on his back atop a large mound of vegetation. Though the wind had been knocked from him, he recovered remarkably fast for such a frail old man; he amazed even himself!

Moving slowly for fear that something might be broken, he rolled over to his side and looked back at the beast standing above him. It was covered with a gray lather and trembling violently, its breath whistling loudly in and out.

As he moved to rise, it suddenly dawned on him that the beast could die at any moment. If Leeta were still secured to its back when that happened, she might be crushed beneath the creature's massive carcass!

Throwing caution to the wind, he hurried to the side of the beast and yelled up to Leeta. "Leeta, I am going to untie the harness and lower you down the side."

Even as he spoke, the behemoth gave an involuntary lurch, only catching itself at the last moment and managing to remain upright. Afraid to move under the creature, he hurried around the front, noticing the pool of blood collecting beneath the poor animal's mouth. When he got to the far side of the beast, he frantically swiped at the heavy covering of gray foam in search of the knot securing the harness.

Upon finding the knot, he was further discouraged by the fact that the leather-braided cord was saturated with sweat. With no knife to cut the cord, he worked futilely at the tightened knot, aware that the beast was liable to collapse at any moment, possibly crushing him and Leeta together beneath it.

In his haste, he broke a fingernail off, the salty lather mixing with his own blood and causing the exposed flesh to burn and sting. Yet, he couldn't stop, the feeling of impending doom growing ever larger in his mind, whether real or imagined.

Suddenly, the beast sidestepped, almost falling on top of him. The danger wasn't imagined. Though he instinctively jumped away, the undergrowth restricted his movement; had the beast fallen, he would have been crushed.

With renewed vigor, he tackled the knot. Yet, it refused to come undone. With sweat streaming down his forehead and into his eyes, he looked up at the daunting height of the creature. Since he was unable to undo Loté's knot, his only other alternative was to climb back upon the behemoth and untie Leeta. Although he saw no other alternative to his dilemma, he wasn't sure whether he was capable of climbing up the sweat-slicked side of the behemoth with only the sweat-saturated cord to assist him. And even then, if he managed to reach Leeta and untie her, how would he lower her safely to the jungle floor without dropping her?

Feeling small and insignificant against a world full of behemoths and overwhelming problems, Hig slowly slumped to his knees. He had come to the end of his rope, and he didn't know what to do. He almost wished the behemoth would topple over on him, putting him out of his misery. Once again, he felt as though he'd let his family down. Fleetingly, he wondered if the young pilot would know what to do if he were up against the same set of circumstances.

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind, and then he realized that of one thing he was certain, the young pilot wouldn't be sitting on the ground feeling sorry for himself and defeated. Despite the insurmountable problems he faced, Captain Rodick wouldn't give up, and neither would he!

With renewed determination, he rose to his feet and reached out for the knot that had previously defeated his best efforts. As he grabbed hold of it, though, he suddenly noticed that the beast was no longer trembling. Upon further inspection of the animal, he also noted that the unsightly flow of blood and mucous that had previously been flowing freely from its nostrils and mouth had almost ceased, the previously steady flow having abated dramatically. Could he dare hope that the beast was getting its wind back, and that it might even recover from its extreme over-exertion?

"Leeta! My Leeta, do you feel it?" he cried out joyously to her.

Her voice barely more than a whisper, she called back to him, "Yes, Hig. I can feel it. The worst is over, the beast will live!"

Moving around to the front of the behemoth, he looked around for a branch long enough to reach the leather wrap still covering its eyes. After finding and securing a young sapling, he gently pushed up the center of the wrap until its eyes shone brightly back at him. The creature's breathing and respiration were far from normal, and so he stood at the ready, should the beast suddenly bolt forward.

As he looked back into the creature's eyes, however, he knew his caution was for naught; staring back at him were two doleful eyes, equally glad to see him.

By pushing and pulling the leather wrap with the end of the sapling, he managed with some effort to jar it free of the dried mucous and blood. Holding the wrap under his arm, he stepped back and used the universal signal for the creature to kneel so that he could mount it. Much to his surprise, it responded, and gently lowered itself to its kneepads, the fronts of which were thick with green vegetation from its frantic run through the jungle foliage.

With the beast's head on a level with his own, he hurriedly studied the wounds inflicted by the scavengers. To his immense delight, he discovered that the gashes were superficial, even though they had penetrated clear into the nasal passages of the great beast. The blood that had previously flowed from the creature's mouth and nose was simply draining inward from its wounds, and not from the poor creature's lungs.

Unable to contain his excitement, he balled the wrap in his fists and started rubbing its face vigorously, removing the dried phlegm and blood from around its mouth and eyes.

As he wiped and stroked the behemoth's face, he had to wonder if something in the beast's past had caused him to be sensitive to the smell of blood. He didn't believe that it was because the creature had been abused by its former captors, or it would never have allowed them to get near it in the first place. Instead, he felt that others, possibly even human slaves, had been tortured in its vicinity, thus creating an abhorrence and repulsion to the scent of blood. The more he considered it, the more he convinced himself that he was right.

Moving around to the creature's side, he worked his stiff fingers beneath the drying cord and slowly pulled himself up beside Leeta. "It's all right," he said softly, reassuringly.

"We need to drink and so does the behemoth," she replied, a smile creasing the wrinkles on her face.

Instead of answering her, he bent over and gave her a hug. Although their newfound feelings of relief were overwhelming, they were now confronted with an entirely new set of problems. The first of which was to discover what had become of their daughter!

Straightening, he reached over and untied the water flagon. Before taking a drink himself, he held it to her lips. Only when she'd drank her fill did he sip off enough to barely wet his lips; he would drink his fill only after they found a pond with which to replenish their meager supply and not before.

Slipping off the side of the beast, he went around to its front and poured most of the remaining water into its mouth. He held back enough for Leeta to have one more drink, though he felt confident that they would discover water before that was necessary.

Putting the stopper back in the flagon, he remounted the beast and proceeded to survey the remainder of their possessions and supplies. Seeing the look of concern on her husband's face, Leeta said, "We have more than we have a right to, we will be just fine."

Meeting her gaze, he could only nod, his voice being suddenly choked up with shame. For the second time since meeting the young pilot, he found himself feeling inadequate and undeserving of such a fine woman. Although her body had been broken by a wild beast, and she had grown old and feeble, she was still more woman than most could ever hope to be. She had a sharp mind, a caring soul, and an intuition that never failed; he was a very fortunate man to have her for his mate!

With a click of his tongue, and a gentle swat above the creature's head with the sapling, being careful to avoid the still tender wounds, the behemoth rose begrudgingly to its feet. Its breathing had returned to normal, and it appeared to appreciate the water that Hig had given it. Although Hig had never ridden a behemoth prior to this one, the signals he used to control it seemed only natural.

In addition, he wasn't interested in making it do anymore than move forward, and lower them when he needed to get down. If there were any other commands that it understood and might respond to, Hig didn't know them, nor did he care.

They were moving westward, despite the fact that their daughter and the pilot were somewhere behind them to the east. After several hours of riding in silence, Hig's eyes caught the dull reflection of moonglow off a pristine surface. Rather than try to guide the animal to the water, he waited until they were perpendicular to it before stopping the beast and ordering it to its knees.

While leaving Leeta secured to the creature's back, he took the now empty flagon and hurried to the pond, a little under one hundred feet away. With the refilled flagon in his right hand, and the freshly washed wrap in the other, he turned back toward the trail and the behemoth that patiently waited there with his woman on its back.

Suddenly, something across the pond caught his eye. In a jungle comprised only of varying shades of greens, grays, blacks, and an occasional glint of silvery moonglow through the canopy above them, any color stood out. Through the dense green undergrowth, his eyes led him to another color, the color brown. However, it wasn't a dark, chocolaty brown; something that might be nothing more than a dead and decaying clump of foliage. Instead, what caught his eye was a light, tawny hue, as different to the general background as if it had been bright orange.

As he strained his eyes, the vision faded. Or had it moved? Looking down at the soft brown leather wrap in his left hand, he quickly determined that they were not alone! Yet, he couldn't just call out and alert whoever might be out there of his presence; that wouldn't be very prudent. He had been around enough in his life to know that not all people were kind or friendly, or even indifferent. There were too many roving bands of rogues and bandits. Most were comprised of people that wouldn't hesitate to kill you for what few possessions you might be carrying. Not to mention that without a weapon, he was defenseless!

Hurriedly, he made his way back to the beast. Though he knew the creature was thirsty, he wasn't sure he should take the time to give it water. He decided to wait and ask Leeta for her advice. If she wanted him to give the water to the behemoth and then go back for more, then that is what he would do. As he had done more times than he could remember, he would trust to her intuition.

Much to his shame, she scolded him for not giving the water to the poor animal. "It is not this poor creature's fault that there are other men here that might not be friendly!" she whispered fervently. "Now go, give the poor beast some water." After pausing for a moment, she quickly added with a smile, "Do you think anyone would dare mess with you when you control a creature such as this?"

How foolish of him, he chastised himself as he poured the entire contents of the flagon into the behemoth's mouth. No one in his or her right mind would dare confront a man that could exert such control as he!

With the now empty flagon, he strutted back to the pond to refill it, having left the wrap with Leeta. Reaching the water's edge, he anxiously refilled the flagon, and then, putting on a brave front, casually strolled back to the trail, only barely able to refrain himself from breaking into a run. He was a man of small stature, and although no one in his tribe had ever derided him for being a coward, he had never been known for being a hero, either. For the first time in his life, he felt something strong and brave growing within his heart, a feeling that he could only attribute to his relationship with the behemoth. He almost felt invincible, and the swagger became real, not just put on.

He was almost back to the behemoth, when he saw the first of the men approach. They were coming back down the trail, and their attention was focused on the beast; they were still unaware of him approaching their unprotected flank.

The beast had noticed them, also, and it let out a long, mournful cry. They stopped, less than forty feet from where it knelt in the center of the trail; forty feet from where he also suddenly crouched down and concealed himself in the undergrowth, all prior feelings of bravado having evaporated at the sight of the men and the bare steel weapons they carried in their hands.

One of the men raised an obsidian spear and shouted at the behemoth, it only returned his gaze in silence. Their confidence bolstered by the creature's lack of action, they slowly started advancing toward it.

Hig, unable to sit still and watch the events unfold before him, rose to his feet and called out, "Don't get too close to him, he doesn't like strangers!"

As one, the men froze in their tracks, not sure if they should take their eyes from the beast and find the source of the voice, or keep their eyes on the creature.

The man in the lead with the spear was the first to determine that the creature wasn't moving, and thus didn't pose them any immediate threat. Turning toward Hig, he asked, "Who claims to know the behemoth that blocks our trail?"

Almost belligerently, Hig said, "Only an idiot travels eastward. Are you telling me that you're an idiot, or did I mistake your words?"

Even as he spoke, more people were coming into view. Not all were men, or even women; some amongst them were children! These were not rogues or bandits, but a tribe that must have been leaving the pond as Leeta and he arrived.

Someone chuckled. Another could be overheard repeating Hig's words that he was an idiot. Hig recognized these people, though he'd never met them before. They were no different from his former tribe. The man with the black-tipped spear thought he was their leader, while the others thought he was nothing more than pompous and a fool; every tribe had at least one such individual.

Finally, after much humiliation, the man turned and stalked back up the trail to the west. Another man slowly stepped forward, taking his place in the lead, casually spoke up. "We have no quarrel with a man that can control such a cantankerous beast as that," he said, nodding toward the behemoth. "Instead, if I may, I would like to extend an invitation to eat with our tribe. The hunting has been good, and we would be honored to hear your tales."

"We would be more honored to be your guests," Hig quickly replied, stepping forward into view.

The man that spoke looked past and around Hig before saying, "You speak as though you are not alone. If I tell you that we mean you no harm, will you tell your friend to reveal himself?"

Quickly, Hig apologized. "I'm sorry if I misled you, I didn't mean to. My mate lies upon the behemoth's back. She is frail and unable to come down of her own accord." Although he wanted to add that he didn't have a knife, or the ability to free her, he decided that it would be more prudent to wait until he could see and assess their entire camp. If he determined then that they meant them no harm, he would ask their assistance.

"If you would care to follow us, I will lead you to our camp. We are but a short distance from the trail."

With that said, he turned and retreated back the way they had come. Since there was no longer any threat, the men and women conversed while the children screamed and yelled, many of them running dangerously close to the behemoth. Although the children were only trying to show their bravery, Hig felt nervous by their actions, since he didn't know how the creature would respond to them.

However, much to Hig's relief, the creature completely ignored the children, even sidestepping at one point to avoid crushing one overly adventurous child's foot.

With Leeta still secured to the behemoth's back, Hig walked in front, the creature following as if tethered to him. When they came into the clearing that his hosts had made for a temporary respite from the rigors of the trail, Hig ordered the beast down, and then asked if the children would bring it water. They were excited and honored to be given such a monumental task.

As was customary in most tribes, the children were allowed to play and frolic before being tended to by the adults. What was not customary was the inclusion of such a distraction such as the behemoth. After their brief pleasure with the massive beast, while the adults were busy preparing the daily meal, the children were quickly fed and put to bed. Only after the children were tended to, would the elders come over and make their introductions.

Familiar with such customs, Hig waited patiently at the side of the behemoth, within easy listening distance of Leeta. Since she was secured to the behemoth and unable to see what was going on around her, Hig described the layout of the camp, in addition to details of the more interesting occupants that came to investigate the creature up close.

"The camp's elders are approaching," he said softly, keeping her apprised. "I will ask for their assistance in getting you down."

The leader was the same young man that he'd spoken with on the trail. As he drew near, ahead of the others, he apologized for having kept their esteemed guests waiting.

"That is quite all right. I am familiar with your customs, they are very similar to our own," he said agreeably. Then, as was custom in his former tribe, he introduced himself and Leeta first, so that he would no longer be a stranger to their hosts. "My name is Hig, and atop the behemoth is my mate, Leeta."

He paused, waiting for their hosts to speak next. Although he knew they were anxious to learn of Leeta's and his circumstances, and how it came to pass that they were brought to their camp atop a massive beast such as the behemoth, they would not directly ask. To do so, would be considered rude and inhospitable. They could only hope that he or Leeta would volunteer their story of their own accord. Which, although Hig intended to make them wait, he had every intention of doing, especially since it was his further intention to join up with them for a while, at least until Loté and the young pilot had an opportunity to catch up with them.

"We are pleased to meet you, Hig, and Leeta," he added, looking willfully up at the back of the behemoth. I am known as Braun, leader of this proud tribe that you see before you."

It was not customary for the leader to introduce anyone that was lower in rank than him, that would be left for the individual members of the council to do when they felt the time was right, if ever. If the leader of the tribe had a mate, he would introduce her, along with any children he might have. They would be considered his equal.

"Please, do not think this rude of me," started Hig. "But I am surprised that a man as young as you is leader of such a large tribe."

"There is no offense taken," he replied with a smile. "It is only through an unfortunate circumstance that I have attained such a high position. My father was killed by a beast in the jungle, and the tribe has not felt a need to find a new leader yet." He paused for a moment before shyly adding, "I guess I should take it as an honor that they feel they can procrastinate this way."

Hig was immediately taken with his self-abasing manner. Although Leeta was taken with the young pilot, he secretly wished that his daughter could meet this young man, as he was sure they would make a great couple, in addition to many strong and brave children.

Suddenly, from atop the behemoth, Leeta called out, begging them to get her down. Embarrassed and suddenly blushing for having forgotten her, Hig quickly regained his composure and asked Braun if there were some young men that would help him remove her.

Without hesitating, Braun stepped past Hig and easily pulled himself up the creature's side. Standing over Leeta, he slipped his knife free and quickly sliced through the bindings that held her. With a smile showing straight white teeth, he looked down at her and asked, "Would you mind joining me for a bite to eat. Our food is nothing special, but I assure you, it will be well prepared."

Smiling back up at him with her toothless grin, she calmly replied, "I would be honored, Braun."

Lifting her so that she cradled across his arms, he stooped back over and picked up the leather wrap. Then, with her gripped firmly in his arms, he lowered himself to his haunches and slid over the behemoth's side, landing catlike on the soft vegetation below.

Handing her to Hig, he was quick to apologize. "I hope that wasn't too rough for you, my lady, Leeta." Then, meeting Hig's gaze, added, "If you would be so kind to follow me, our women have prepared us a wonderful meal. As I explained to your beautiful mate, it is nothing special, but it will be prepared exquisitely."

Hig fell in behind Braun, as the rest of the council members fell in behind him. Leeta was smiling broadly, thoroughly pleased with the young leader's attention, as well as his compliments. Hig secretly wondered if she wasn't secretly wishing that their daughter were here, also, and not just because they were worried for her.

A long smooth plank was set up near the center of the clearing, next to the cook fires. It was set at a height that made it comfortable to eat from while sitting cross-legged on the ground before it. As the leader took his customary position at the end pointing westward, he indicated for Hig to set Leeta beside him. He would see to her needs with the assistance of the women. Hig, meanwhile, was to sit next to him, on the north side of the plank. This was also customary in his former tribe. If Braun had a mate, she would sit on the south side of the plank, next to him.

After gently setting Leeta on the ground, a woman approached with a bundle of furs. While Braun raised Leeta into a sitting position, the woman placed the furs behind her in such a manner that her upper torso was comfortably supported. No one had ever treated her with such deference before, and she couldn't stop herself from smiling her toothless smile at everyone.

As the woman that had brought the furs retreated from the table, two more approached carrying platters of fried meat and boiled rootstocks. Both dishes were exquisitely seasoned with a variety of herbs and spices that grew abundantly in the jungle, yet were seldom used. Even before Hig had an opportunity to taste the food, his mouth was watering and his stomach was growling in anticipation.

Reverting to customs, Hig elegantly said, "You are a most gracious host to share such delicious food with unknown and unworthy travelers. Since we have nothing with which to repay you in kind, may the gods be with you always on your journeys, and see that no harm ever befalls you or your people."

After a moment's hesitation, in which an awkward silence ensued, Braun finally spoke. "There is something you can do for us that would be more than recompense for this humble food."

"You have just to name it, and if it is within my power, I will be more than glad to," offered Hig, suddenly nervous and apprehensive over the price they might have to pay for the tribe's hospitality.

Although he had assumed that their customs were similar to his own, he hadn't considered the numerous nuances that could be extremely different. In his former tribe, for instance, it would have been strictly forbidden for the host to ask anything of his guests. Yet, in Braun's tribe, as he was about to learn, that was not the case.

Continuing, Braun said, "If it would not be too much trouble, we would be very interested to hear any news that you might have from beyond our camp's perimeter."

Breathing a sigh of relief, Hig quickly responded that he would be more than delighted to share what little news Leeta and he could. "However," he humbly apologized, "I'm afraid that we know very little, ourselves. For some time now, we have been living close to the eastern horizon."

Because he felt a certain kinship with the youthful Braun and his people, he determined that he could trust them, and decided to bare his soul. Speaking softly, he said, "Since we left our tribe, we have had very little in the way of human contact." Then, he suddenly realized that what he'd said was not entirely correct, and quickly amended, "Little, that is, except for a pilot that crashed in the jungle near us. His co-pilot died in the wreckage, but we pulled the pilot to safety. When we last saw him, he was with our daughter, Loté."

He paused for a moment while everyone sat entranced, eagerly waiting to hear more. Aside from tales of hunting, birthings, and misfortunes within the tribe, news, and or stories, were extremely rare. Whatever Leeta or he had to say would be discussed and rehashed among them for a long time to come; none would interrupt him or question him until he finished.

"We left them behind when we were attacked by native scavengers and the behemoth bolted. Although it pains me to say this, you know as much about the outcome of that battle as do Leeta and I. Furthermore, until you came across us by the pond, we have been riding nonstop atop the behemoth."

Having said his say and gotten it out in the open for everyone to criticize, he sat staring fixedly at the food set before him, half expecting Braun or another of the elder council members to berate him for his actions, or rather, the lack thereof. Customs could be very confusing, and Hig feared that he might inadvertently dishonor his gracious hosts.

After a long silence, Leeta casually remarked, "It is nice to hear the sounds of children playing and carrying on. I hadn't realized how much I'd missed it. You are planning to move after this rest, am I not mistaken?"

Taken aback by her open assessment of his tribe's activities, Braun quickly replied, "Why yes, it was our intention to continue westward after this sleep. However, now that we have guests, it would be considered rude of us, would it not?"

To Hig's complete surprise, Leeta said, "Not if you were to invite your guests to accompany you and your people, especially as your guests have the means of transporting many supplies and easing the individual burdens of your elder tribe members."

Without taking the time to consult the elder council members seated along the rough-hewn plank, Braun graciously accepted on his people's behalf. To Hig's further amazement, Leeta didn't seem the least bit surprised by his quick acceptance of her offer. Only after a moment of consideration did Hig understand why; it was the same reason the council had allowed him to take over in his father's place; he did nothing that wasn't without the best interests of the tribe's members at the forefront. Hig also noted that he made his decisions quickly, yet not hastily. As an old man, Hig knew there was an astute difference.

After finishing the meal laid out before them, Hig and Leeta were assigned a place to sleep near the center of the camp, which was also the safest place to be, a gesture that didn't escape them. The mound of furs was moved with them, only this time it was positioned so that both of them could lie on them in comfort.

They awoke to the sound of cooking and chattering; the final meal was being prepared before the onset of the journey. Sitting up, Hig stretched his age-stiffened joints. The ride atop the behemoth had proven to be very excruciating to his arthritic joints and limbs. When he thought back on it, he wondered how he had managed to perform the feats that he had. He also worried that because of Leeta's offer, they were about to embark on the hardest part of their journey, yet. After all, had they not abandoned their own tribe because they didn't want to become a burden to their fellow tribe's people? So how did he expect them to keep up with this tribe? Of course, now they had something to offer in exchange, the behemoth's ability to carry a large portion of the camp's burden.

Rising stiffly to his feet, the smell of meat burning over an open flame tantalizing his nostrils, he looked around at the increasing activity. His eyes came to rest on Braun, and the young man that had earlier accused Leeta and him of hogging the trail. Although he hadn't been introduced to the man, he thought he remembered someone referring to him by the name of Mang.

At any rate, Braun and Mang were currently engaged in a heated conversation. Judging by the hand gestures Mang kept making toward the behemoth, Hig suspected that he knew what the conversation was concerning; Leeta and himself. For whatever reason, Mang was protesting Braun's quick decision to invite strangers to join them on their journey west. Hig could only speculate that the decision was met with approval by the majority of the tribe's people, and that fact alone was enough to upset Mang. Looking away, he made a mental note to stay clear of Mang if at all possible.

As his eyes came to rest on the nearest of the cook fires, he immediately recognized the woman from prior that had brought them their meal. After a quick glance to affirm that Leeta was still asleep, he headed toward the woman, studying her with a keen eye. Although she was much older than Braun, possibly old enough to be his mother, she was still considerably younger than he. Despite her advancing years, she was in fine physical condition, moving with a natural grace that was very reminiscent of his Leeta before the injury. Her face also belied her true age, as it resisted the rigors of time. Hig couldn't help but notice that she was quite striking to observe.

As he drew nearer to her, he suddenly swerved and made a beeline for the behemoth. Much to his chagrin, for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt an aching in his groin. Looking nervously over his shoulder to see if the woman had taken any notice of his odd behavior, he hurriedly strode from the center of the camp. With a flush, he realized that she had turned him on. For the first time since before Leeta had been crippled, he was sporting an erection.

Putting the behemoth between himself and the camp, he quickly took care of his embarrassment, surprising himself at how good it felt. He had done neither anything like it before, nor had he ever desired to; taking care of his Leeta had always consumed all of his energies.

Still feeling conspicuous, he made his way back to the cook fire, and the woman that had aroused him without her knowledge of having done so. Or so he believed.

Feeling suddenly bashful and slightly overcome with guilt, he nervously returned her smile and said, "So, we leave soon?"

"Yes," she simply answered, her smile never wavering. Then, before he was forced to come up with something additional to say in the ensuing awkwardness, she quickly offered, "Would you and your woman care for some food. I would be honored to bring her some if you would prefer to eat with the men."

"That would be very kind of you..."

"My name is Lurde," she suddenly blurted. Then timorously, she continued, "Please don't think it too forward of me, but I already know your name, and that of your mate. It is Hig and Leeta, if I am not mistaken."

"You are not mistaken, and I am both flattered and honored that you cared enough to inquire."

Handing him a plate of food, she said, "If you will excuse me, I will see to Leeta." As she turned away from him, she softly added over her shoulder, "The other men will be gathering at the table where they ate earlier. The children will eat wherever they please, today."

She was telling Hig this so that he wouldn't be left sitting near the cook fire by himself, as the other council members would assume that he wanted to be left alone. Getting to his feet, he returned to the plank that served as the community table, and took the same place as he had prior. In the distance, he could hear the excited squeals and screams of the children. Breaking camp to continue the journey west was an exciting day for everyone, especially the children.

Braun was the first to join him. "I asked the older children to see to the behemoth's needs when they finish with helping their parents. They will take care of watering it," he casually added, giving no indication of the dispute he'd had with Mang earlier.

"Thank you, I appreciate their help."

Another woman brought Braun his meal and a flagon of water. Without a word, she turned and headed back to the cook fire. After taking a few bites, a serious look came over Braun's face. Hig, sensing that he was about to say something serious, feigned being finished with his meal, and pushed the plate away from him. Reaching for the flagon, he quickly washed down his food, and waited for Braun to finish sorting the words in his mind. Hig knew that the young man seated before him would speak his piece in a forward manner when he was ready.

Looking him in the eye, Braun cleared his throat, and said, "Although I have asked you to join us on our journey, it would be amiss of me if I didn't give you this warning." He cleared his throat again, saddened by the fact that he was put in the uncomfortable position that he was. Swallowing, he hesitantly continued, "Most of my tribe's people are glad to have you and your mate with us. However, there's a small faction that feels otherwise." After another long pause, in which Hig patiently waited, Braun slowly added, "Actually, there is only one that isn't glad to have the two of you with us. You don't know him, but I think the two of you have already exchanged words."

Putting a hand on the young leaders forearm, Hig gently stopped him from having to continue. "It's okay, Braun. His name is Mang, and I have seen many like him in my time. He is only jealous and envious of you. Hence, any decision that you make that is met with unanimous agreement, further aggravates the burr in his side."

Braun reached out with his other hand, and laid it over Hig's own. However, before he could say anything, Hig added, "If our presence creates problems for you, we will go on ahead of you. Surely Mang cannot blame you for the actions of people outside of your tribe!"

"Nonsense!" he retorted emphatically, before looking around sheepishly to see if he had been overheard or attracted anyone's unwanted attention. Satisfied that their words were shared only between each other, he calmly continued, the determination in his voice making his words sound almost angry to Hig. "We are all traveling in the same direction. What does it matter if we share our resources with each other? It is to our mutual benefit to do so. I only wanted to make certain that you were aware of the situation involving Mang so that you didn't cross paths with him again. He is young and foolish, and you are, well," he hesitated, suddenly embarrassed by his words.

Putting him at ease, Hig laughingly said, "I know. I am old, and therefore I should have sense enough to stay out of trouble. Do not worry, Braun, you are correct; I am old, and I will stay out of trouble."

Still meeting his gaze, Braun's expression suddenly turned serious as he reflected on a past memory to which Hig wasn't privy. However, before Hig could remark, he gently added, "My father would have liked you."

"I think I would have liked your father, Braun."

Before Hig could go on to explain that any man capable of raising such a fine young man for a son was worthy in his eye, Braun pulled his hands back and returned his attention to the plate of food that was growing cold in front of him. Before he put another bite in his mouth, however, he casually remarked, "I noticed that you met my mother, Lurde, earlier."

Hig involuntarily gasped, suddenly fraught with guilt and embarrassment because of his earlier thoughts toward the woman. Yet, in the back of his mind, he was forced to admit to himself that knowing Braun was her son didn't diminish the fact that she was still a very beautiful woman.

Catching himself looking over at Lurde as she sat and talked with Leeta, his face suddenly turned bright red as he realized Braun was still watching him.

"It is quite alright, my new friend, she is a very beautiful woman. Although there aren't any men in our tribe that have shown an interest in her, I have no doubt, she will find a new mate when we meet up with another tribe. Please don't be embarrassed because of the way you feel toward her. Hell, even at my age, I find my mother sexually attractive."

That last comment made Hig take a second look at his young host. His embarrassment easing, he said, "I will not make a fool of myself in your camp."

"Only Mang makes a fool of himself in this camp," he added flatly, the name bringing a foul taste to its speaker's mouth. "So that you don't learn it through someone else, I will tell you now, Mang is my younger brother. However, it is no secret that he envies me and has since he was born; it would make little difference if I were not the tribe's leader. That is just his nature."

"I appreciate your candor in telling me this," Hig somberly replied.

Several of the elder council members arrived together and took their respective places along the plank. The same woman that served Braun brought them their food. Hig, although still hungry, was too embarrassed to pull his plate back; he determined instead that he would snack on dried meat once they were on the trail.

Standing, he said, "Thank you for the invitation. Please feel free to send what supplies you will, and the means to secure them to the behemoth, since I have nothing to offer. If you will excuse me, I must check on Leeta's needs before we get started."

"Once we are settled on our journey, you will join me at the head of the column," he said lightly. "We have much more to discuss, I am sure."

Knowing that it was considered an honor to walk at the head of the column with the tribe's leader, Hig quickly acknowledged the invitation. "I would be privileged to join you. Till then, my young friend."

Turning toward Leeta, he discovered that he was relieved to see that Lurde had returned to the cook fire. If was uncomfortable enough knowing that Braun was aware of the effect his mother had on him, he didn't want to have to hide his feelings in Leeta's presence, too; he was sure that she would see right through him, even if his manhood didn't give him away!

As he approached her, she smiled up at him. He noticed that Lurde had rearranged the furs so that she was sitting upright again. He found himself regretting that they'd never had sufficient furs or skins to prop her up in the past, since it seemed to please her. When next they were settled into a camp, he would find the materials to build her a chair that was capable of being secured to the behemoth's back so that she could ride in the style of a queen.

Returning her smile, he softly asked, "Is there anything I can do for you before I go see to the behemoth?"

Equally softly, she replied, "Yes, you can sit with me for a minute."

When he didn't immediately move, but instead looked nervously toward Braun and then the behemoth, she added, "It's okay, Hig, we have plenty of time."

Surrendering to her wish, he settled himself on the ground next to her. Although he gave an illusion of calm, he was being torn up with anxiety on the inside. What she said next, however, shattered the calm façade he was so painstakingly trying to maintain.

"I was not asleep as you assumed this morning when you ran into the jungle."

When he nervously moved to stand, she quickly reached out and put a restraining hand on his arm, arresting his movement simply by her touch. He was relieved to find her touch gentle in nature, and realized immediately that she wasn't upset with him. As she continued holding onto him, a more substantial feeling of calm grew within him. Slowly, he resigned himself to her will and settled back to the ground.

Confident that he wasn't going to run from her because of his embarrassment, she softly continued. "Furthermore, I know why you ran away, and so does Lurde."

He involuntarily flinched at the sound of her name, his embarrassment flaming back to life. Amused by her husband's response, she slowly resumed. "You have nothing to be embarrassed over, my love. Although I am both crippled and paralyzed below my waist, I am still aware that you are a virile male. I realize now that it has been wrong and unfair of me to expect you to remain chaste all these years. We should have had this talk a long time ago."

"There is no need for this," he stuttered, trying to assuage her newly discovered guilt. "I have only done what I have felt was the right thing to do."

"Yes, all these years you have done what society has labeled the 'right thing to do' for society." She hesitated before vigorously adding, "But you have not done the right thing for you!"

She stunned him by her tone. Then, he understood what she was saying, or so he thought. With a woman, you could never be too sure.

"Are you telling me that I should have left you for another woman?" he asked incredulously. "Don't you understand that I love you? You are the mother of our child! I could never leave you, especially now when you need me more than ever!"

"No, that isn't what I'm saying at all," she tiredly protested, sounding defeated. When he didn't say anything in response, she decided to elaborate for him. "What I mean, is that I should have made it clear to you a long time ago that I wouldn't be upset if you took another woman to your bed! Until just a little while ago when I saw the way you were looking at Lurde, I had selfishly refused to consider that you might need relief of that nature." She paused for a moment before innocently adding, "So I took it upon myself to discuss it with her."

Flabbergasted, he cried out, "You did what?"

"I discussed it with Lurde. I was curious to see if she found you sexually attractive, also."

When he started to protest, she raised her hand to silence him before continuing. "It's alright, Hig. Even before you reached the edge of the jungle, everyone in camp knew why you were in such a hurry." After a short pause, in which she reflected on her past, she added, "This tribe is not so much different from our own."

With a resigned sigh, he finally asked, "Did she ask you to warn me to keep my distance from her?"

"Oh no," she remarked in surprise. "Quite the contrary. She asked me for permission to spend time with you..."

"I'm sorry Leeta," he sputtered, cutting her off before she could finish. "I never intended to look at her the way I did. Before they run us off, I will try to barter some supplies from them, maybe even trade them the behemoth, if it comes to that. Please, can you forgive me, my love?"

"It's all right, Hig, we don't have to leave them!" she quickly admonished him. "Just let me finish this time, before you interrupt me again." When he regained his composure, she gently went on, "Lurde wants to spend time with you, both intimately and otherwise..."

When he started to rise and protest, she silently waved him back down and patiently waited for him to collect his composure again before finishing.

"I gave her my blessing."

"How could you?" he spluttered in amazement. Only after the full impact of what she'd told him registered on his shocked mind, did he feel the rising anger from within. "You should have spoken with me first!"

Then, just as suddenly as the anger came, it evaporated, and a new feeling took its place. Being truthful to himself, he realized that he was actually very grateful to her. For the first time in a long while, she had something more than her love to give him, and she gave it freely.

Yet, how could he take it? His entire life had been devoted to her and her needs. Would it be selfish of him to overlook her needs now, to satisfy his more basic desires?

Moreover, was Lurde actually attracted to him, or was she only willing to spend time with him out of some perverse need that was fueled by a guilt born of her own husband's demise?

"It's okay, Hig. I only wanted to make you aware of the situation so that you could think on it during our journey. If I was mistaken, and you don't have any feelings for her, than take my words for what they're intended." She paused for a moment to catch her breath before continuing. "You may be an old man, Hig, but you are still attractive in a masculine way. If you can't make something happen with Lurde, just remember what I told you."

"I will always remember what you told me, Leeta. However, I cannot say whether I will act on your blessing or not." Although he felt confident that he didn't possess the courage to share carnal knowledge with a strange woman, after all, he was a bashful man at heart, he couldn't just disregard the way that he felt toward her, either. After a moment of silence, he added, "I must see to the behemoth now, we will be leaving soon. Braun will be securing the bulk of their supplies to the behemoth. Meanwhile, I will see to it that they make a comfortable place atop the beast for you."

"Thank you, Hig," she whispered softly, smiling at him as he turned to go.

He'd gone less than five steps, when he suddenly stopped and turned back toward her. "Leeta, if she will have me, I won't resist. But I won't be the aggressor."

Before she could answer, he turned and continued toward the behemoth. However, in the split second before she was gone from the corner of his vision, he knew he'd seen her smile grow even warmer.

### **2**

Braun saw to it that the final items secured to the behemoth's back were the tribe's extra hides and furs in order that Leeta was afforded a soft, comfortable seat. Using a complex arrangement of knots, two young braves fashioned a seat of sorts by entwining several length's of cord with an abundance of soft fur pelts. This, they further enhanced by securing it to the already secured provisions in such a way that it afforded her a view to the front. In addition to the plush seating arrangement, they also provided her with a package of dried fruit and a flagon of water; carefully placing both items so that they were within easy reach for her. To Hig's eyes, she looked like a queen perched upon her rightful throne.

Walking abreast of Braun at the head of the column, they were preceded only by the scouts, whose duty it was to make sure the trail ahead was clear of danger. Lurde, along with several of the council members, followed close behind them. Despite his earlier feelings regarding the honor of walking at the lead, Hig suddenly found himself feeling self-conscious. He was suddenly sure that every eye was on him, whispering and gossiping about what happened earlier in the day. Although he had Leeta's blessing to pursue a woman for sexual gratification, and he was distinctly aware of Lurde's presence, the idea was both intriguing and intimidating to him. He was made all the more uncomfortable by her son's nearness, even though Braun hadn't given any indication that he was aware of what had transpired.

Also, being at the head of the column made it almost impossible for him to run off and hide without having to explain his actions. Hence, he took to wearing a stiff leather loincloth, just in case his body betrayed him at an inopportune moment.

During the loading of the behemoth, one of the elder council members noticed his lack of a knife and procured one from the tribe's communal supplies for him. Hig was immensely grateful of the old man's gesture, since it was common knowledge that a man without a knife was usually a dead man.

While they walked, Braun kept plying him with a steady stream of questions. Not only was he extremely curious regarding his and Leeta's prior tribe, as well as their daughter Loté, but he was also anxious to know everything that Hig could tell him about the pilot. He was especially intent with regard to the details of the fateful crash that killed the co-pilot. Hig didn't find any of his questions curious, since almost all news was relayed from one end of the habitable surface of the planet to the other, in just this manner.

Occasionally, Hig would glance back over his shoulder. The behemoth, together with Leeta and the bulk of the tribe's supplies, was at the far end of the column, bringing up the rear. The strategic placement of the behemoth at the rear of the column, a cautionary move to prevent being overrun from behind by an unfriendly tribe, had also been Braun's idea.

From Leeta's vantage point atop the beast, she had a clear view of the entire tribe as it sauntered along the westward trail. She was also able to see Hig, and the woman that followed closely behind him. With no one to converse with atop the beast, she was left to her own devices. Soon after starting out, the scenery began to blend into itself and run together as her interest in her surroundings waned. She would much rather prefer to have someone with whom to talk. She desperately needed someone with whom she could share her troubled thoughts.

Although she didn't begrudge Hig and Lurde their mutual attraction, and it was definitely mutual, as she had learned just earlier from talking with Lurde, she felt uneasy that she hadn't considered Hig's sexual needs sooner. Despite being virile and agile for his age, he was still a frail old man, even if he could survive a fall from the behemoth's back. Time was running out for the both of them, and it hurt her deeply to realize that she had been blind to her man's most basic of needs for so many years. She should have encouraged him to seek comfort from other willing partners sooner!

Despite the fact that she openly encouraged him now, and meant it sincerely from her heart, she still had to confront her own misgivings; she honestly believed that the attraction between the two of them was purely physical. Despite Hig's slender build, he was very strong and quick. If anything, his outward appearance was an asset, since it tended to make an opponent overconfident, as they misjudged his strength and agility.

Yet, after all this time of having him for herself, it wasn't easy for her to accept the fact that another woman was seeing in him what she had known for so many year's prior. However, she would learn to live with it, just as she had learned to live without the mobility afforded a fully functional body.

After nearly six hours of travel, Braun decided to call a halt so they could rest and prepare a hot meal. Without the benefit of the behemoth, they would have been forced to stop after only four hours or less. However, with the heavier supplies being carried by the beast, the going was much easier for everyone. Braun was extremely pleased with his decision to befriend Hig and Leeta, if for no other reason than that. Nevertheless, even if it weren't for the behemoth, he was glad of Hig's presence, and the subtle way that his presence lifted his mother's spirits. She had been depressed ever since his father had been killed. But after meeting Hig, she seemed much more like her old self, even if she was being overly flirtatious with the old man.

Braun had to admit to himself also that he liked Hig. He found the man open and honest, two traits that his father had made a point of cultivating in him.

Grabbing a plate of warm food, Hig carried it over to where the behemoth knelt in the middle of the trail, casually munching on vegetation. Several young children were taking care of its water needs, as they shrieked and laughed, thoroughly enjoying the momentary respite from the journey.

Only when he got closer did he notice that someone had already brought her food. She was smiling and laughing, talking freely with someone standing on the opposite side of the beast, where Hig could not see them. Slightly annoyed by the fact that someone else was showing his Leeta attention, and that her reactions and mannerisms were such that she was clearly enjoying the companionship, he gruffly circled the rear of the animal, away from the frolicking children. When he saw whom she was talking animatedly with, he almost dropped the plate of food he was carrying. Their conversation was relaxed, comfortable, and flowing easily. He stood for more than a minute before he was even noticed.

"Why Hig," the man said gregariously upon seeing him for the first time. "I hope you don't mind, but I have availed myself to your mate, even before we have been properly introduced. Please don't tell Braun, he would frown on me taking such liberties. Moreover, I am afraid he might prohibit me from speaking to her in the future, and I simply couldn't stand for that!" he laughed heartily, while looking up at Leeta with adoring eyes as she sat upright in her soft fur seat beaming back at him.

"How could I betray the man that gave me the loan of such a fine knife," Hig quickly responded, feigning light-heartedness, though he felt a growing emotion that was unfamiliar to him.

"Although we have spoken prior, let me formally introduce myself; I am Gelid, elder councilman of this fine tribe. It is my sincere pleasure to finally make your acquaintance."

"The pleasure is surely mine," he awkwardly replied, feeling suddenly abashed by the man's charitable acknowledgement of him. After looking sheepishly at Leeta, and then back to Gelid, he hesitantly added, "I meant to bring Leeta some food, but I see that you have beaten me to it."

Before he could respond, Leeta, clearly impressed that someone she didn't know would put her needs ahead of his own, excitedly chirped up, "It was very nice of him, Hig. He forewent his own meal so that I wouldn't go hungry up here. Maybe you could give him the food that you brought for me. I am sure Gelid would appreciate it. After all, he has endured many miles since his last meal."

Keeping his thoughts silent, Hig couldn't believe that she would overlook the fact that it had been a long walk since he'd eaten, also! Moreover, he also was foregoing his own meal so that she could eat first, just the same as Gelid! Yet, she suggested that he should give up the food for Gelid, and ignore his own hunger pangs!

No sooner had the thoughts entered his mind, and then he realized the selfishness of them. In addition, he also suddenly realized why he was feeling the way he was, and how Leeta must be feeling toward him.

"Yes, that was very kind of you, Gelid. Here, take this while it is still warm," he quickly added, handing the plate of food to the man that had won over his Leeta.

Taking the proffered food, he graciously thanked Hig before explaining that he needed to discuss some business matters with several other tribe members, and then hurriedly excused himself. No sooner had he left, and then Hig scrambled up the side of the beast so that he could be next to Leeta. What he wanted to say to her, he didn't want made into public knowledge by many little ears.

When she saw the look in his eyes, she immediately set the almost-finished plate of food aside. Although there was much she wanted to say to him, she decided to let him speak first. After all, it was his effort that brought them this close.

"I'm sorry, Leeta," he said slowly, his voice soft and low so that it wouldn't carry. "It was never my intention to hurt you. I cannot deny that since I've met Lurde, I've had some very intriguing thoughts about what it would be like to make love with her. But when I saw you talking with Gelid, and enjoying his conversation and company, I felt a small amount of what you must be feeling regarding Lurde and I. And yet, I can't begin to imagine what it must feel like for you."

"It's okay, Hig. My faith in us is strong enough for the both of us. I know you will never abandon me for another woman, even if you share intimate time with her. You could have left me behind when it became too difficult for you, and yet, you stayed with me."

She paused for a moment before continuing. It was a common practice among mates to abandon each other when one or the other became unable to keep up with the tribe. Although she had originally expected Hig to leave her behind, time had made her grow accustomed to his constant and unwavering devotion to her. With great sadness, she had always realized what a tremendous sacrifice he'd made on her behalf, and it left her feeling as though she owed him a great debt that she could never repay.

Yet, irregardless of these overwhelming feelings, she forced herself to continue. "Gelid was telling me that because we are making such good time, we will be setting up a campsite soon. When we do, if it isn't too much to request, I ask that you not flaunt her in my face. Please, if you can, keep your affair from me, even though I am sure that I will hear of it. Can you do that much for me?"

"I can do that, and more," he quickly agreed. Then he just as quickly added, "I don't need to bed Lurde, or any other woman, for that matter. But I do need your love, Leeta; your love and devotion has been more than enough for me all these years, why should it be any different now?"

"Because it is, Hig, you must satisfy your desires," she said softly, ending any protests that he might be mounting. After a moment of silence, she added, "Here, finish this, I cannot eat any more of it."

Taking the proffered food, he discovered his appetite was still alive and well. After wolfing down the food and quenching his thirst from her flagon, he noticed that the column was preparing to move on. The temporary camp was being disassembled and the first of the tribe's people were making their way back onto the trail.

"Thanks for the food," he said sheepishly, suddenly feeling embarrassed because of his earlier thoughts concerning her disregard for his hunger.

"Now go, take your place with Braun," she ordered. Then, just before he slid down and out of sight, she added, "The two of you look good together up at the front of the column!"

Throwing her a wave and a quick grin, he worked his way through the forming column, taking notice of the individual tribe members for the first time. All the looks he received in return were warm and friendly. An inner peace slowly settled over him. With a start, he suddenly realized that he hadn't felt like this since before Leeta had been crippled by the wild beast, so many years ago.

By the time he reached the front of the column, Lurde was already there. He smiled in answer to her smile, all the while conscious of the fact that Leeta was probably watching them intently for any subtle telltale movements or exchanges. No matter what his feelings and desires, he was determined not to subject them on his one true love, Leeta!

They had only been traveling for about three hours when Mang came trotting back down the trail toward them. He had volunteered to work as trail scout, with Braun's blessing and silent gratitude. As he drew close, he stopped just short of them before leaning over with his hands on his knees and catching his breath.

Following close behind Braun, Hig was acutely aware of Mang's sidelong glance in his direction before returning his attention to his elder brother.

"What is it?" asked Braun, sounding more annoyed than concerned. "What is up ahead that would make you run so hard?"

"Another tribe," he said, rising to his full height as he faced his brother, his breathing already having returned to normal.

"How far, and did you recognize them?" pressed Braun, his concern turning to excitement at the prospect of meeting up with old friends, and an almost certainty that a celebration would follow.

"Less than five miles, near a large pond that sits almost a quarter of a mile north of the trail. I didn't take the time to introduce myself. Instead, I hurried back to tell you," he said with a smirk.

Braun didn't believe him any more than did Hig. Yet, neither of them would call him a liar, and possibly provoke a confrontation that wouldn't be in the best interest of anyone, including the tribe's people.

Now, Hig had to wonder why Mang would find it to his advantage to keep the truth from them. Had he actually seen a campsite, and if so, did he recognize them? Or was this just a joke on his brother, because he knew it would excite him? Even worse, Hig didn't like the nervous shifting movements of Mang's eyes when he tried to look into them. He had no doubt that Mang was up to something, but of the seriousness of it, he could only speculate.

Braun, having grown up with his younger brother, was much more aware of his sibling's capabilities, and henceforth, trusted him even less than Hig.

With a wave of his hand, Braun signaled two more braves to hurry forward to investigate Mang's allegation of another tribe. Of course, he was exceedingly careful not to make it look as though he blatantly distrusted Mang, even if the rest of the tribe suspected him of such. But rather, the scouts were part of a routine that would be followed regardless of who had carried the information back to Braun. It was the fresh scout's duties to investigate the camp ahead and determine whether its occupants were friendly or not. If they determined that its inhabitants didn't pose a threat to their own tribe, they would introduce themselves as Braun's emissaries, and announce our imminent arrival. This same procedure was followed by almost all the friendlier tribes that roamed the planet's surface. Not only was it the safest way to meet up with an unknown entity, but it also gave the unknown tribe time to prepare a celebration in honor of their approaching guests.

In thoughtful silence, Hig watched the scouts until they disappeared into the jungle ahead. Then slowly and silently, his inner thoughts shielded from those nearest him, he turned around to face the column of people stretched out on the trail behind him. From his mannerisms, Hig felt he was going to address his followers. Instead, he simply gave the hand signal signifying a brief rest.

Confused by his actions, Hig queried of the young leader, "Forgive my rudeness in questioning your actions, my young friend." He hesitated a moment before continuing, knowing that he, of all people, didn't have the right to say what he was saying.

Before he could get up the courage to continue, Braun gently encouraged him. "Go on, my old friend, I will not take offense at what you have to say." Then, his voice sounding lighter, almost cheery, he added, "Who knows, I might even learn something from what you have to say."

"It is rude of me to continue, but since you insist, I must ask," he said softly, looking around furtively to be sure no one was eavesdropping on them. He was relieved to note that those nearest to them had moved off to take advantage of the unexpected break and tend to personal needs. "You gave orders to the scouts that they should announce our impending arrival to the tribe ahead, and yet, you halt the column."

"Yes, we will wait until the scouts return before we proceed. You might want to check on Leeta. We may be here a while," he added, his earlier excitement having all but vanished.

After cautiously checking once again to be assured he wouldn't be overheard, he pursued the thing that was still bothering him, "I understand that you don't trust your younger brother, my friend, but that doesn't explain the worry in your eyes."

Nervously, he stated, "A feeling came over me when I looked into his eyes." He didn't need to explain whose eyes he was referring to; Hig felt the same sensation. Then, just as quickly as it had escaped him, Braun's former confident demeanor returned, and he brusquely added, "Go now, and see to that beautiful woman of yours."

As Hig turned away from him, Braun quickly halted him with his words. "Wait a minute. That wasn't fair of me. Let me apologize for speaking so shortly with you." Hig turned back to face him, meaning to tell him that an apology wasn't necessary, but something in Braun's demeanor silenced him. Instead, he waited patiently, sensing that there was more to come.

After a long pause, lasting for almost a minute, Braun said in a pleading voice, "Do me a favor, old man."

"Anything, you have but to ask. But there is no need to apologize, I can take no offense when a man speaks honestly, no matter what tone of voice he might use."

Speaking as though he hadn't heard a single word Hig had just spoken, he said earnestly, "Ride atop the behemoth with Leeta and keep your eyes open. The extra height will give you an advantage over the lookouts. But even more importantly, keep your weapon handy."

Before Hig could respond, Braun strode past him, leaving him standing with his mouth agape. Although he had questions, he realized the tremendous pressure Braun was under; it was a tough job being responsible for so many lives. He had no right bothering Braun with his questions. Yet, he would heed the disturbing request.

Strolling back along the column, he was only half aware of the fact that Mang was nowhere to be seen. Of course, since they were stopped, it wasn't unreasonable for him to have gone into the jungle to find relief. Of the more than two hundred people under Braun's care, clearly a fourth of them were in the jungle during the first part of any stop, taking the opportunity to relieve themselves.

As he approached the behemoth, he thought he caught a glimpse of someone retreating eastward on the trail. But just as he thought he saw something, they were gone, almost as if they were purposely hiding. Under normal circumstances, he would have shaken it off. However, because of Braun's parting words, he was unable to let go of it.

Climbing to the behemoth's back, he silently signaled Leeta to listen closely to what he was about to say, all the while continuing to watch their back trail. Since they were at the end of the column, there should be no one on the trail east of them, and yet, he was sure he saw movement. For the first time in many years, his hand subconsciously moved to the hilt of the knife, a movement that didn't go without Leeta's notice.

"I knew the minute I saw that no-good Mang return that trouble was brewing!" she said with conviction.

"Then you must realize how important it is that you keep an eye on our new friend. Meanwhile, I will watch our backside," he said evenly, almost anxiously.

"Why would he make up a story about a tribe camping up ahead if it wasn't true?" she asked, her voice perplexed. "What would he gain by lying? It will only be a matter of time before the scouts return and prove him out. He will only make himself look like a bigger fool than he already is."

"It is the same with everyone who feels they've been slighted in their lives, I am afraid," Hig started softly, his eyes never drifting from the trail behind them. "He needs to make Braun look inferior to the rest of the tribe so that he can validate his own existence. The only way he can do that is by showing his brother up. He needs to prove to the rest of the tribe that his brother isn't capable of the responsibility that they have bestowed on him. Only after he makes his brother look foolish, will he be satisfied."

"That is such a shame," she whispered back. "But you haven't explained how lying about another camp in the trail ahead will make his brother look foolish. As I see it, all Mang will accomplish is to make himself look even sillier than he does already."

"Unfortunately, it isn't a very silly matter. It's a shame, I'll agree, but it could very well turn deadly, too," replied Hig emphatically, his eyes still focused on their back trail. "That good-for-nothing Mang is up to something, and I don't like it."

The words had no sooner left his lips, than one of the elder councilmen fell to the ground, a crimson splash of blood growing over the bare skin on his back. Although Leeta saw him fall, it took her a moment to realize the consequences of what she'd witnessed. In addition, she didn't see his attacker, and Hig was still looking eastward at the time.

Almost immediately, children started screaming and running wildly about. Without warning, another man fell, his head caved in by a rock propelled by a sling. A woman began to wail at the fallen man's side; Leeta assumed it must be his mate. Amidst the sound of screaming and crying children could be heard the first voices of authority, trying desperately to organize a defense against an invisible enemy.

Looking furtively along the trail from his vantage point atop the behemoth, Hig couldn't see anything beyond the vegetation growing thickly to either side. Yet, another person went down, a woman this time. As she lay crumpled on the ground, two young children screamed hysterically by her side, trying vainly to make her rise.

Unaware of having drawn the knife, but now fully aware of its hilt clasped firmly in his hand, Hig turned to Leeta and said, "I must help them."

It was at that moment that he saw movement along the south side of the trail, approximately half way along the column. Although it was little more than a branch swaying for no apparent reason, Hig recognized it for what it meant.

"If you can signal Braun, relay to him that I have gone south of the trail," he whispered frantically as he prepared to slide off the behemoth's back. Then, stopping suddenly, he turned back to his Leeta and, bending down, kissed her softly. In a breathless whisper, he anxiously ordered, "Stay low in the furs until I return."

"You be careful, Hig," she nervously replied, fearing for his life, and what it would mean to her if he didn't return.

Hig had always been there for her. Ever since she'd been crippled, he had looked out for her and taken care of her. She couldn't even begin to imagine what her life would be like without him. He was her hero in more ways than he would ever know!

No sooner had his feet hit the ground, and then he was working his way into the dense vegetation growing along the trail. After progressing due south for a distance that should put him parallel with the aberrant movement he'd seen from his perch atop the behemoth, he turned ninety degrees, putting himself on a heading due west. He was an old, frail man; it wasn't easy for him to move stealthily through the jungle's undergrowth. A younger, more agile man could cover the same distance in half the time it was taking him. Yet, a younger, more agile man hadn't seen the movement in the jungle; he had. And in the time that it would take to get Braun's attention, and then direct him to the spot, whatever had caused the motion would be long gone. It was up to him to investigate.

He was drawing closer to the place that he'd made a mental note of, when it suddenly dawned on him that he might come face to face with a large force of bandits or rogues. Nevertheless, he had to go forward, he had made friends in the tribe that he'd left behind on the trail, and they were depending on him, even if they weren't aware of his actions, yet.

Crouching low despite his already short stature, he moved as silently through the dense heavy growth as he could. The leaves on the low growing vegetation were dripping with eternal dew, and it quickly saturated his stiff, leather loincloth, making it dark and pliable.

He hadn't progressed very far along his western route, when he was surprised by a soft rustling sound, coming from a short distance off to his left. Immediately, he froze in his tracks, suddenly unsure whether he had actually heard a noise, or if his imagination was playing tricks on his straining senses. With growing unease, he waited for something more, something that would confirm what he was increasingly beginning to doubt.

It came almost immediately in the form of a soft whirring sound.

Hig, familiar with the sound a hunting sling makes in the instant before it releases its deadly projectile, suddenly grew fearful that another tribe member was about to be killed.

Casting aside all caution and concern for his own safety, he lunged through the undergrowth, throwing himself bodily toward the source of the ominous sound. Though he doubted that he would prevent the sling from releasing its lethal projectile, he had to distract the operator in the hopes that he could send it off its intended course. In the short time since he and Leeta had been so kindly taken in by this tribe, they had made several good friends. It was unbearable to think that any of them might be struck down when he was so close to preventing it.

As he broke through the undergrowth, he came face to face with the man twirling the sling! They recognized each other straight away.

Mang!

Although they stood only scant feet apart, it was much too great a distance for him to physically stop Mang from taking the shot.

Startled by Hig's sudden emergence from the vegetation, Mang's attention to his weapon was momentarily disrupted; Hig could only hope it was enough to send its deadly projectile harmlessly into the jungle.

Dropping the empty sling, Mang quickly reached for his knife. Standing face to face with the slightly fat, generally lazy individual, Hig knew that if he were only younger, he would never allow himself to be intimidated by the likes of such a man.

To his dire misfortune, however, he wasn't younger. Much time had passed him by, leaving him old and frail. Unlike Lurde, whom Hig could only imagine that she saw someone other than the man he knew himself to be, Mang didn't harbor any such illusions; he saw Hig just the way he was, a frail old man!

As he met Mang's gaze, he could see the hatred burning deeply within, hatred that went much further than simple jealousy or envy between brothers. A new realization came to him at the same instant; this man wasn't only Braun's younger brother, he was also Lurde's youngest child. It was impossible to imagine that such a fine, strong woman could produce such a malevolent being!

Mang, meanwhile, saw only a frail old man standing before him. It was completely irrelevant that the man intended to stop him from humiliating his older brother at any cost. Yet, even if the old man had been twice his own physical size with muscles bulging against over-tight skin, and armed with a superior knife and cudgel, he would not have been deterred.

But the man wasn't! He was just a diminutive old man that couldn't mind his own business. In an almost distracted way, Mang chastised himself for not having taken him out first. Being a guest of the tribe, his brother couldn't have suffered a more humiliating blow than to allow harm to come to him. In addition to being a new friend of his brothers, he had also made an easy target atop the behemoth. The more he considered it, the more baffled he was that he hadn't thought of it sooner.

Of course, there were so many other details to contend with that he couldn't possibly think of everything. But now that the man was here and ready to die, he would just have to accommodate him!

Convinced that he didn't stand a chance against Mang, and the maniacal fury that was driving the younger man, Hig determined to try logic on him, instead.

Trying hard not to let the emotion slip into his voice, he said as evenly and casually as possible, despite the mounting tension gripping his hammering heart "This has gotten out of hand, Mang. Surely, you can't hate your brother so much that you would kill innocent tribe members in an attempt to shame him."

"I knew the day that I found you on the trail with that stupid beast that you and I were destined to cross paths!" he angrily replied, completely ignoring Hig's comment regarding the hatred that he must hold for his elder brother. "Well, old man, our paths are crossed. Although I would rather have waited until later for this, you have left me no choice."

Before Hig could respond, Mang lunged toward him, his massive bulk belying his true quickness. With instincts that he'd forgotten he possessed, Hig easily sidestepped Mang's charge, and his blade only sliced through empty air. Catching himself, Mang spun around. With his breath already coming in gasps, he struggled to untangle his feet from the vines that twisted around his ankles when he turned back to face Hig.

"It's not too late to give up," suggested Hig softly, still hoping that he could bring some reasoning to the situation. Although he drew some confidence from watching Mang's clumsy performance, and the ease with which he settled back into trusting old instincts, he wasn't about to underestimate his opponent, or overestimate his own returning strengths.

Not answering him, Mang charged forward again, this time swinging wildly from side to side with the leading edge of his weapon. Waiting until the last moment, Hig again stepped gracefully to the side; unfortunately, this time Mang was expecting it. What Mang lacked in grace and stamina, he more than made up for with cunning and foresight. Unbeknownst to Hig, Mang's earlier charge was only his way of judging his opponent's skill and capabilities.

Caught off guard by Mang's sudden turn, Hig dropped to the ground. Unable to stop his momentum, the bigger man clumsily tripped over the smaller one. Yet, even before he landed bodily on the ground behind him, Hig was up and moving away from him.

As Mang rolled over into a sitting position, his breath heaving in and out of his chest, Hig tried appealing to his rational side again. "Your brother will be here shortly. Leeta will have told him where I went by now. When he gets here, your plan will be over. He might even kill you for what you've done! But if you give up now, I give you my word that I will plead with him for mercy. You might only be banished from the tribe for what you've done so far."

"You lie! No one knows where you are, and no one will ever know that it was me that brought my brother down!" he vehemently replied.

"How can killing your fellow tribe's people bring your brother down?" asked Hig, somewhat perplexed by the statement and the logic it implied.

"It's so simple!" he screamed at Hig, no longer aware that he was shouting loud enough to be heard all the way to the trail. "My brother will be blamed for leading his people into danger! He is ultimately responsible for their safety and well-being, is he not?"

Knowing that they would have been heard by the other tribe members, Hig decided that he needed to buy time for them to arrive. It suddenly became imperative for him to keep Mang talking.

"You are a sick man! I am sorry that your brother has always bested you, but that is no excuse for killing innocent people!"

"Innocent people!" he cried incredulously. "They aren't innocent. They've been persecuting me since I was a young child. They have always preferred my brother, damn his luck! But no more! Everything bad that is happening today is because of him! When the fools finally realize that, they won't want anymore to do with him. In fact, they will probably exile him!"

"But how will that ingratiate you into their good graces? Can you answer me that?" Hig demanded, speaking loud enough for everyone to hear. Then, before Mang could answer, he pressed him further, trying hard to back him into a corner. Answering his own question, he literally yelled at him, "They will never accept you, Mang! Especially after what you've done today. Have you forgotten that you've killed fellow tribe members?"

"The others will understand that it needed to be done. They'll realize that someone had to make a sacrifice in order to expose Braun's inadequacies as a leader." He paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "They just need a little time to see that. When they do, they will thank me for what I have done."

Hearing members of the tribe closing in around them, Hig decided it was time to share the truth with him. No longer able to conceal the anger and loathing that was mounting within him, he said, "They will never come to understand your evil, spiteful mind! But God willing, they will come to the realization that you deserve to die for what you've done here today!"

"Die?" he asked incredulously. "I will not die for trying to show them the real Braun. These fools mean nothing to me!"

With that said, he abruptly turned away from Hig and took off running into the jungle. Even before Hig could call out to the others that were just a few feet from reaching them, he was already gone from sight. Saving his breath instead, Hig watched the unnatural movement of the swaying limbs that clearly defined Mang's progress.

The first to reach him was Braun, followed closely by several braves armed with skinning knives. Even before Hig could explain what had transpired, Braun had followed the path of his eyes and signaled the braves to give chase. Yet, even as he watched their progress in the same way that he had watched Mang's, he knew they would never catch him. For even as they moved forward through the dense growth with an easy trail to follow, Mang's natural grace and agility was defying his fat and clumsy appearance.

Braun was the first to break the silence as they watched Mang's progress slowly pull ahead of the pursuing braves. "They will never catch him. Despite all his faults, Mang was born with an uncanny ability to move swiftly and silently when he so desires. Even I was never able to keep up with him when he chose to lose me."

Sensing that Braun needed comforting, of a sort, Hig softly stated, "That is such a shame for him. He could have easily made a name for himself and acquired his own level of status by simply doing what came natural to him. If he had desired it, he would be the leader of the tribe's scouts. But, alas, we cannot do for our brother what he won't do for himself."

Others were quickly arriving, beating down the vegetation that surrounded them. Before acknowledging the new arrivals, Braun quickly added, "You are a wise man, my friend. I hope we get to know each other better in the time to come." Then turning toward the nearest approaching tribe member, he asked, "What is the status of the injured?"

Before the man could respond, Gelid pushed past him. Responding to Gelid's senior ranking in the tribe, the man tripped over his own feet in his haste to get out of the way. As he stood to the side, Hig noticed the deference with which the man reacted toward Braun, but even more so toward Gelid. Standing silently off to one side, the man made a point of avoiding eye contact with either Gelid or Braun, he was clearly uneasy by their nearness. Whether it was because of a deep-rooted reverence for the men, which Hig didn't quite believe, or the man was afraid of one or the both of them.

While Gelid emphatically described the injuries inflicted by Mang, in addition to the names of those that had died almost immediately, Hig continued to study the man standing off to the side. Even as more of the tribe's scouts and hunters arrived, the man remained quietly alone. After making a note of his face, Hig determined that he would look the man up later when he could speak to him privately. If the man feared something, Hig wanted to know what it was. The way everyone treated Braun like an equal, deferring only to him when there were decisions to be made for the benefit of the entire tribe, Hig didn't believe for one minute that the man could possibly be afraid of Braun.

Yet, that train of thought only opened up more questions than it did in answering the one he was contemplating. If the man wasn't afraid of Braun, then he was surely afraid of Gelid. But why would he fear Gelid? Gelid was an old man like himself. Physically, he didn't pose a threat to anyone.

That left only one answer that made any sense; the man was afraid of Gelid because of the power the elder councilman possessed. In a tribe of this size, power meant everything. People would gladly do your bidding, even if they didn't fully agree with you, so long as you had something to give them in return. And a man with Gelid's influence definitely had something of value to trade. The more Hig contemplated this latest thought, the more determined he became to speak privately with the man. He wouldn't wait for an opportunity to catch him alone. Instead, he would go looking for him as soon as the rest of the tribe slept.

His thoughts were suddenly interrupted, when Braun tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. "Hig, my friend," he said gently, concern for his injured tribe members etching deep lines into his otherwise youthful face.

Startled, Hig blurted, "Yes, I must go look after my Leeta. If there is anything I can do, just let me know."

Before Braun could see the distance in his thoughts, he turned and hurried off through the brush in the general direction of the behemoth. Although he wasn't aware of having done so, he suddenly realized that he'd returned the knife to its scabbard. Again, he was surprised at the ease with which he handled the weapon. Even Mang had been surprised by his agility for such an old man, almost as surprised as he had been by Mang's own gracefulness and subtle abilities.

Feeling a growing thirst, he decided to veer toward the trail and make an attempt to procure a fresh flagon of water before returning to Leeta. It would only add a minute or two at the most to his journey, and Leeta would appreciate the water almost as much as he would.

Traveling at a forty-five degree angle to the trail, he easily determined that if he made a ninety-degree turn to his left, it would bring him out on the trail somewhere near the center of the column. What he hadn't considered was that it would also bring him out in the vicinity of Lurde, where she was busily tending to the injured.

As he broke out of the undergrowth, he came face to face with the kneeling form of the most beautiful woman he'd laid eyes on in a long time. Even with her sweat-streaked face, and the long tresses of her hair plastered to her forehead, she was strikingly beautiful.

Startled by his sudden appearance, her face instantly relaxed as she recognized the man standing over her. A warm smile replaced the tension and concern that was there just moments prior.

Without a word, he extended his hand and helped her to her feet. The injured man that she was tending to wasn't hurt very seriously, and he was having a hard time keeping his thoughts to himself as he watched the reaction between the two.

Taking Hig's hand in her own, she gracefully rose to her feet, both of them oblivious of the man smiling up at them as well as the rest of the activity going on around them.

Finding his voice first, Hig said, "I am glad to see that you weren't injured."

The words had barely escaped his lips when he realized the absurdity of his remark. Mang was her son, after all. Although he was obsessive with regard to his brother, he never would have intentionally harmed his mother.

Sensing his awkwardness and blooming embarrassment, she quickly tried to put him at ease. Speaking gently, yet firmly, she said, "It's all right, Hig. I know you meant no slight on my part."

"I'm sorry, Lurde," he started to say, when she suddenly placed her fingers caressingly on his lips to silence him.

"No, please," she gently pleaded with him. "He was, and still is my son. But that doesn't make what he did any more right. It was wrong of him to envy his brother all these years, and more wrong of him to injure his fellow tribesmen. He will be dealt with according to the laws of our people. I can understand and accept that, even if I find it hard to believe that he was capable of such vile actions." She paused for a moment while they looked longingly into each other's eyes.

After a moment of silence, a moment in which both of them luxuriated in the closeness of the other's body, in addition to the gentle feel of her fingers resting softly against his lips, Lurde was unable to finish her train of thought. Neither of them wanted the moment to end as the sexual tension grew ever stronger between them. They wanted each other more than they'd ever wanted anyone before.

Her breathing quick and shallow, Lurde was about to ask Hig if he would care to take a stroll into the jungle with her, something she had never considered asking anyone before. But before she could form the words in her mouth, a woman's scream shattered the moment, bringing them harshly back to reality.

Tearing her eyes away from Hig's, she turned in the direction of the cries. They were coming from farther up the trail toward the front of the column. Even before Hig knew what he was doing, he found himself leading the way toward the source of anguish, his weapon coming unconsciously to his hand. Lurde followed close behind him as they picked up more followers along the trail.

By the time they reach the source of the tormented cries, a small group had already gathered around. Forcing his way through the onlookers, Hig came upon the sight of a young woman leaning on her knees over the still form of a young boy-child. Suddenly uncertain of what he should do next, he froze in his tracks. Lurde pushed past him and knelt down next to the distraught young mother, soothingly embracing her and pulling her away from the child so that Hig could determine its injuries.

Sensing what was expected of him, he hurriedly regained his composure and got down on the ground next to the child. Putting his fingers against the side of the boy's throat, he determined that the child was dead. Yet, upon first seeing the young child, he hadn't noticed any physical injury. If the boy had been struck by a rock from the sling, there should be a devastating wound that would be obviously visible.

Nodding toward Lurde, he waited until she had helped the young woman to her feet. Then with exaggerated gentleness, he reached under the child's prostate form, only to discover that the wound was to the boy's back. His hands slid into the wet stickiness of congealing blood. Instead of raising the boy in his arms, he rolled him over to examine the type and extent of the wound.

There were several sharp intakes of breath from the circle of onlookers, and a renewed wailing from the boy's mother; someone had killed this boy with a short bladed dagger at close range, and the weapon of destruction was still imbedded in the child's back. It was buried clear to the hilt, lodged tightly between the vertebrae. Only with a great amount of effort was Hig able to remove it, and then it slid out with the clearly audible sound of metal scraping against bone. The sound made several onlookers cover their mouths before retreating into the jungle.

It silenced the mother, instantly replacing her terror and trauma with a blank, hollow stare. Hig had seen this happen to other victims that had suffered a severe loss. The poor woman was going into shock; Hig could only hope for the woman's sake that the condition was temporary.

After wiping the boy's blood from the dagger, Hig carefully tucked it into the waistband of his stiffening loincloth. Despite the high humidity, the leather was drying back to its formerly stiff condition. Then, reaching carefully so that he cradled the child's body in a reposed state across his wiry arms, he rose to his feet and turned back toward the rear of the column. Lurde, her arms wrapped comfortingly around the distraught mother, followed in silence. The onlookers quickly stepped back off the trail, giving them room. While several continued to follow them at a respectable distance, all the while keeping their thoughts and suspicions to themselves, the majority slowly returned to their prior business.

Stepping carefully along the trail so as not to trip on the rapidly spreading vines, he wondered if they would have any luck finding the owner of the dagger. There wasn't any doubt in his mind that whoever had committed the heinous act had done it with the expectation that Mang would just naturally be blamed for it. This led Hig to wondering if it might not have been an accomplice of Mang's. Since he didn't doubt for a minute that Mang wasn't capable of killing an innocent child, he further agreed with himself that Mang also wouldn't tolerate the murdering of innocent children, even if it were being done on his behalf.

But that made even less sense, unless Mang had been double-crossed. Was it possible that Mang's accomplice was only insuring Mang's failure?

No matter how he looked at it, he came to the same conclusion; Mang wasn't working alone! He was even more certain that Lurde and Braun would agree with him concerning Mang's inability to purposely harm innocent children, even if it turned out to be Mang's dagger, which he strongly suspected it would.

They had reached the area near the center of the column that had been set up for dealing with the injured. Off the trail a few yards, several braves were busy beating down the vegetation in an ever expanding circle, while an old woman was on her knees near the center, hard at work getting a cook fire going. Several children were heading toward her with their arms full of dead vegetation. Although it was damp and decaying, the old woman would coax enough heat from it so that others could prepare a hot meal for the rest of the tribe.

Not sure where he should take the body that, although small and fragile was beginning to put a strain on him, he looked beseechingly toward a woman that was kneeling over an unconscious man. Understanding his unspoken question, she nodded toward the north, opposite the side of the trail where the campsite was being prepared.

Nodding his thanks, he looked across the trail and immediately noticed the trampled vegetation. After glancing quickly over his shoulder to confirm that Lurde was still following with the boy's mother, he moved off along the rough trail. Several times his feet tangled in the low-growing vines and he almost fell. Always, he managed to check himself, and steady his tiring legs before going on.

Just when he believed that he couldn't go any farther, they came upon a small group of men and women. Laid out on a soft moss-covered clearing, were the victims of Mang's madness. None were as young as the victim he carried.

As their approach was detected by the others, each looked up to see whom he was carrying. Each also possessed red, bloodshot eyes from crying over their deceased loved ones.

While Hig gently laid the boy next to the others, two of the women relieved Lurde of her responsibility, taking the boy's mother between them and leading her to a place where she could kneel with them.

Rising, Hig gave the distraught woman a brief glance before turning to join Leeta. In silence, they moved back along the makeshift trail, the soft wails of the grieving quickly fading into the green enshrouded distance. When they were beyond being heard by either the grieving or the people at the column, Leeta reached out and took Hig by the hand. Without a word, she led him through a small break in the undergrowth at the side of the trail. A subtle change was transforming Lurde before his eyes as he willingly followed her gracefully swaying hips along the westerly route she had chosen. Despite the easy going of the unbroken trail, he couldn't help but notice the faint change in her breathing, in addition to the rise and fall of her once-firm breasts. The blood was quickly flowing to his manhood.

When they had gone almost a quarter of a mile along the old path that paralleled the trail containing their tribe, she suddenly came to a halt. Slowly, she turned to face him. He met her unwavering gaze, and saw the fear and trepidation within her eyes. Almost imperceptibly, he followed the movement of her gaze downward with his own until it came to rest on the protruding bulge beneath his loincloth. Unlike the previous time that she'd excited him in this way, this time there was no embarrassment, only pride. This time there would be no running into the jungle and hiding. This time, he would take her with his male desire; he would show her that he was still a virile man!

Releasing his hand, she gently untied the cord securing the loincloth about his waist and let it fall unheeded to the soft, moss-covered jungle floor. Looking down, Hig immediately realized why she had chosen this particular place to stop. Not only were they just a short distance from the column that was comprised of their tribe, and Hig was thinking of them as 'his' tribe, but also, they were standing in a small, natural clearing that had once been a shallow pond of water. When the water evaporated, leaving a natural depression behind, the lush green moss that was so prevalent near any water source quickly grew to fill the void, forming a natural bed-like area.

Taking his hands within her own, Lurde slowly lowered herself to her knees, gently pulling him down with her. His gaze remained fixed on hers, though he longed and desired to explore her body more intimately, to lovingly and caressingly devour each succulent inch of her with his eyes and fingertips. He hungered to touch and stroke her, to bring her to the same level of desire that he felt within himself.

The opportunity immediately presented itself when she placed his hands upon her breasts and, closing her eyes, sighed deeply, her nipples hard with the promise of being willing participants in the foray to come. Moaning softly, she turned her head to the side and laid it against his chest while taking his hardened manhood in her hands. The scent of her sweat-drenched hair brushed moistly against his cheek, filling his nostrils with the pungent scent of her animal lust.

With a touch so gentle, and yet stimulating in ways he didn't think possible, she expertly caressed and fondled him. He suddenly worried that he wouldn't be able to control himself long enough to satisfy her, and that he would prematurely ejaculate in her hands!

With a rapidly mounting desire, his eyes ravaged her body as he drank in the beauty of her smooth skin, glistening with reflected moonlight. Their breath was coming in short, shallow gasps, their heartbeats gaining tempo in unison. There could be no denying the desire and need they felt for each other. It not only clamored to be satisfied, it demanded it! It would never relinquish its hold on them until then.

Sliding his hands from her breasts, he relished the smooth, silky softness of her skin as they caressingly glided down to her broad, womanly hips. Sensing his urgency, her moans increased proportionately with the nearness of his manhood, building quickly to the climax that she desperately craved. It had been such a long time since either of them had felt this way, if ever. While neither of them wanted to rush the moment, neither of them could control the mounting intensity. Their mutual passion and wanton, physical need, had taken on a life of its own. They had become its slave, albeit willingly.

Lowering her to the soft bed of moss beneath them, Hig felt his manhood ready to burst. If he didn't keep pace with the animal desire that had taken over their bodies, it would all be for naught. Moreover, he would suffer an embarrassment that he would never be able to live down. He was rapidly running out of time!

With diminishing gentleness, he spread her legs and moved into position over her, only vaguely aware of the hard crust of the planet's surface tearing the skin of his knees through the deceivingly thin covering of moss. His passion uncontrolled, he dove forward, penetrating her willingness, and driving her along the slippery covering until she literally screamed out in pain.

Although his passionate thrusting had moved her only mere inches, the sharp, craggy edges of the previously molten surface had torn into the soft, smooth skin of her lower back, drawing a mixture of blood and whimpers from her.

Suddenly fearful and ashamed of what he'd done, he jerked himself free of her embrace and, hurriedly backing away from her, rose to his feet. As he stood over her, swaying on his feet from the rush of blood to his head, he noticed the crimson flow running down the front of his own bare shins, and the loose flaps of pale skin that barely clung to his lower knee joints.

Lurde, noticing his injuries at the same moment as he, wrongly assumed it was the reason for his sudden and unexpected behavior. What she didn't know, and would only later come to understand, was the guilt that he was feeling for betraying his Leeta; in addition to the pain, he'd just unwillingly caused her. What he didn't know was that Lurde, like himself, was also too caught up in the heat of their passion to realize that she'd been injured. After all, they were possessed by the power of hormones that were much more basic than even that of the hunger for food.

Unfortunately, neither of them would get the opportunity to learn of these subtle misunderstandings. Just as a dialogue of explanations was about to flow between them, a loud trumpeting cry erupted through the jungle. Hig immediately recognized the sound as a mixture of terror and fear seized his heart; it was the behemoth, and it sounded as though it was in extreme pain.

Leeta!

While he was here with Lurde, selfishly satisfying his own personal desires, he had left Leeta secured to the back of the behemoth!

### **3**

With his loincloth lying on the ground suddenly forgotten, Hig spun around toward the trail, his ears hurriedly trying to place the torrid sounds coming to them. Something was terribly wrong! Even during the mad dash through the jungle astride the behemoth's back, he had never heard it scream with such ferocity and fear as it was doing now.

Distractedly, he turned to Lurde and offered her his hand. Pulling her roughly to her feet, he brusquely said, "I must get back." Although he wanted to say more, to explain the turmoil he felt within, he was torn from her by the urgency of not knowing what might be happening to Leeta.

Not waiting for her answer, nor wanting to take the necessary time to backtrack the way they'd come, he set off through the dense undergrowth on a beeline that would bring him out at the source of the screams and pandemonium.

Moving with uncanny agility, it was with some surprise he realized he had drawn his knife and was holding it at the ready. When he was younger, he had done much hunting for his tribe, and to also feed his family. But he had only ever hunted animals for food, he had never hunted men, or even an adversary that might prove to be more dangerous than he himself was.

So, it troubled him to discover that he possessed these natural survival traits. Where had they come from, and what had triggered them? Had he always possessed them, but wasn't aware of it because he had subconsciously repressed them after failing to protect Leeta.

He wanted to ponder these questions in more depth, so that he could explain their troubling nature to his satisfaction. But there were more pressing issues demanding his immediate attention.

Despite the speed with which he was moving through the heavy undergrowth, he was subtly aware of Lurde's presence close behind him. Although she moved silently, her scent remained strong in his nose. Yet, instead of distracting him, it spurred him to even greater speed, as he moved with less caution, taking ever greater chances of encountering uneven footing or tripping himself up in the heavy growth of low-growing vines. When he neared the place in the trail where Leeta should be sitting astride the behemoth, he should have slowed and proceeded with caution. But Lurde's presence was driving him to run recklessly headlong through moisture-laden leaves that completely obstructed the view immediately in front of and around him.

Only when he came out on the trail and found it deserted, did it dawn on him that the trumpeting sounds of the behemoth had subsided. Leaning forward on his ragged knees for balance, he inhaled deeply, his heart pounding within his chest.

Lurde broke out on the trail behind him, her own breathing sounding strong and steady. Following Hig's perplexed gaze down the trail to the west, she asked of him, though she didn't expect an answer, "Where is everyone?"

The words had no sooner left her lips, than the mourners from the clearing in the jungle, broke out on the trail east of them. Like Hig and Lurde, they too looked perplexed by the lack of fellow tribe members.

Though he was still short of breath, Hig started cautiously down the trail toward the west. Lurde reached out and put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him to an immediate halt. Sensing the question she was about to ask, he abruptly cut her off. "We weren't that far from the trail, they couldn't have gotten very far." Wishing he hadn't sounded so brusque with her, he added more softly, "We'll just follow the trail until we catch up to them."

Moving slower than he cared because of their extreme caution, the advanced along the trail, their ears tuned to the unnatural silence emanating from the surrounding jungle. Within a short time, the small group of mourners overtook them. The young woman, whose child Hig had carried to the gravesite, was the first to catch up to them. Before she could say anything, Hig signaled her to remain quiet. Lurde, sensing that the woman was about to break down, put a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Hig was not immune to their horrific loss. It would have been difficult enough for them even if they had been left to complete the grieving process for the loved one that they'd just laid to rest. But now, in addition to that loss, their fellow tribesmen had left them behind for no apparent reason. Because they were experiencing a deep level of shock and distress, in addition to the extreme confusion of the circumstances, he understood that they were looking to him for answers. Not only was he the eldest among them, he had displayed leadership qualities when he attended to the woman's dead child.

Being acutely aware of his deeds and the way he had reacted under pressure, they had formed an opinion of him, even if that opinion was on a subconscious level and held no bearing on reality. Now, because of the glowing opinion that they had subconsciously and collectively constructed of him, they found themselves looking to him for leadership. Whether they were consciously aware of it or not made little difference to them in their current state of mind; they desperately needed someone to lead them out of the situation that they suddenly found themselves!

Fortunately, it would matter little to them if they knew he felt as befuddled by the sight of the empty trail as they did. However, he was still thinking clearly enough to realize their fellow tribe members couldn't have gotten very far in such a short amount of time.

"Listen," he hissed savagely, bringing an instant end to their frustratingly pointless gibbering and shuffling. Just as suddenly, he was ashamed of his emotional outburst in front of Lurde. "I'm sorry," he said lamely before quickly adding, "I was just thinking that they couldn't have gotten very far, and we might still be able to hear their progress if we listen."

Even while he spoke, trying to comfort them by suggesting how near their friends might be, he couldn't help but think to himself, "Is that what Loté and Captain Rod were thinking when the behemoth carried Leeta and me off? Did they mistakenly believe that we were always just a short distance ahead of them on the trail, when in fact the behemoth carried us many miles distant before slowing and eventually stopping? Could my poor daughter have realized that we had traveled even more miles than a healthy woman such as she could hope to overcome?"

Lurde, sensing his frustration was the first to break the silence that ensued by his outburst. Trying to ease the others, she agreed, "You are right, Hig. The trail is fresh. We will quickly overtake them. In no time at all, we will be reunited with our friends and families."

She added the latter regarding a hasty reunion for the benefit of those that still didn't show any sign of relief by her words.

Still holding the knife in his hand, Hig said, "Fall into a single file line. Those of you with weapons, bring up the rear." All the men, and several of the women, were wearing knives in sheaths strapped to their waists. They were an odd assortment of skinning and filleting knives; none were designed for hunting, or more explicitly, killing. Yet, they provided more protection than not, and if anything was coming up the trail behind them, they would come in handy.

Without another word, he set off at a brisk pace toward the west. Lurde, though she carried one of the deadliest looking blades, opted to remain with him, and followed close on his heels despite his prior advice. Although he was acutely aware of the weapon she carried, he didn't reiterate his own advice, also preferring her presence near to him.

Moving at what he thought was an exceptionally fast and dangerous pace, they continued along the trail for more than an hour without closing on their friends and fellow tribe members. But more importantly, they didn't fall any farther behind them either. The telltale signs that were definitive of a fresh trail hadn't changed. The leaves that had recently been trampled were still green and bleeding sap, a process that lasted mere minutes in the decaying heat of the jungle. Furthermore, there were times when the ground before them lay flat, and he thought he saw branches swaying in the distance. Yet, he could never be certain that he was seeing anything more than the passing of wild game, not trusting to his aging eyesight as he once had.

Breathing hard, he said, "We will rest for a moment. We know how fast it is they are traveling. They cannot keep up this pace for long before they too, will need to rest. We will overtake them when they do."

Speaking softly in order to hide her concern from the others, Lurde said what he himself was afraid to broach, "What is driving them, Hig?"

Although he didn't know what could possibly drive so many people from what he had assumed was a relatively safe sight, what he did know bothered him even more; there weren't any tracks other than those left by the behemoth and human feet. If anything other than humans were harrying them, they weren't leaving any visible sign behind!

Meeting Lurde's questioning gaze, he found his vocal cords constricted by more than just the need to breathe. Unable to vocalize a response, he shook his head from side to side, the fear evident in his eyes.

Unsettling as she found his response, she was determined not to show her own fear, a characteristic that Hig found most attractive in her. With a visible shake, much like a dog shedding water, Hig threw his fear aside and reached down into his soul for the courage Leeta always told him he possessed. As usual, his Leeta had not underestimated him.

After looking around at the people that were spread out around him, his eyes slowly came to rest on Lurde, who having realized and understood the gesture, gave him a surreptitious wink. After returning her wink with a furtive one of his own, his gaze continued moving slowly over the rest of the group. It was as if he were seeing them for the first time. As his eyes came to rest on first one, and then the next, he took stock of what he saw. He quickly, almost subconsciously, appraised each of them, silently weighing what he perceived to be their abilities and shortcomings.

He was surprised that they numbered eighteen; it seemed like there were fewer of them, originally.

Looking into their expectant expressions, he knew what he had to do. Since he appeared to be the eldest, he determined that they should be able to keep pace with him. Their younger, more vibrant bodies should have much more endurance than his old withering one should.

"Since we have no supplies or water, it's imperative that we overtake them before we have to stop and forage for either."

Before he could go on, Lurde hurriedly agreed with him, her enthusiasm and spirit infusing itself into him. With her show of support, he suddenly felt as if he were invincible; suddenly, anything was possible.

His feelings buoyed, he hurriedly went on. "I'll take the lead and set the pace. If anyone has a hard time keeping up, you're going to be left behind." He immediately recognized the concern this brought to their faces and wished he had worded it differently. Then, just as quickly, he was glad that he hadn't; nothing would be gained by glossing over what might be a very demanding trek. If they understood the consequences from the start, they might be more determined to keep up. And, although he didn't intend to die before seeing his Leeta again, he didn't intend to lose any of these people either, especially Lurde!

As he turned away from them, Lurde laid a hand softly on his arm, freezing him in his tracks. Looking into her eyes, he saw the passion and desire that she silently held for him. Before he could acknowledge her feelings, she whispered to him, "Thank you." Whether she actually vocalized the words, or if he only heard them in his mind, he couldn't be sure. But of one thing, he was certain, and that was the sincerity behind them.

Smiling, he turned westward and set off at a run. Of the group of people that followed him, only two gave him reason for concern with regard to their ability to keep up with the others. One was the mother of the dead child he had carried to its final resting place. Although she appeared physically fit and strong, her spirit had momentarily deserted her. She was still suffering extremely from the shock of having lost her only child, and he feared that with the loss of the child, she had also lost the will to survive.

Her face was drawn and pale, and her eyes vacant. Lurde wasn't oblivious to the young woman's condition, either. But Hig was afraid they would have their hands full just taking care of themselves, much less a despondent female. Although he said that anyone unable to keep up would be left behind, he knew that both he and Lurde were not callous enough to do so. If someone stumbled and fell, they would carry them if needed; that's just the kind of people they were.

With the sap drying rapidly from the tattered leaves lying scattered on the trail, Hig fretted that he'd wasted valuable time taking a break with so much distance to make up. To compensate for the time lost, he pushed himself even harder than he had originally intended. He was moving with such reckless abandon, certain that any danger they might encounter would come from the west, he ran past a warning that he otherwise wouldn't have missed.

Less than two feet to the side of the trail was a large splattering of red droplets. Lurde, although straining to keep up with Hig, fortunately didn't miss the crimson spray.

Pulling up short, she half wheezed, half cried, "Hig! Stop."

She was too breathless to say anymore. Hig, lost in his thoughts of what might have transpired earlier when he was alone with her, came crashing back to reality at the sound of her voice. It was only then, he realized, he was still holding the knife in his right hand.

Not knowing what had made Lurde cry out his name, he quickly crouched and looked furtively at his surroundings, expecting anything. He was gulping down air, trying to get his racing heart under control when Lurde signaled him.

Slowly, a bit uncertainly, aware that the others were already gathering around an area of interest just off to the side of the trail, he made his way back to her. By the time he reached her and the others, his breathing had almost stabilized. Only when he got close and the others stepped aside to give him room, did he see what he had missed.

The first thing he noticed was the fine spray covering the broad leaves growing two feet or higher along the side of the trail. When he looked closer, though, he was startled to see the deep pool that had formed in and on the moss beneath the leaves.

Looking at Lurde's questioning eyes, he said, "Where's the body? No one bleeds this much and walks away."

Looking to make sense out of the nonsense, she quickly offered, "There are many scavengers in the jungle, maybe something drug the body away from here."

"There is no evidence of a struggle, and no evidence of a body being dragged through the undergrowth. Whatever has taken it must be following the tribe very closely. Yet, there is no evidence to support that. Look around, do you see any sign that an animal large enough to cart off a human body has been here?"

"We cannot be sure that the trail we follow was last used by our tribe members. It might last have been used by the likes of creatures that we know nothing about. While we sit here discussing what might have happened, they could be embroiled in a fight for their lives," she said emphatically, almost hysterically, as the tales told to her as a child grew and festered in her imagination.

Hig understood through her words that she was more concerned for the well-being of the tribe than her own immediate danger, despite the fear in her voice.

"It's also possible that another tribe has attacked your tribe from the east and Braun is trying to lead them to the safety of a tribe to the west that might not even exist," Hig solemnly volunteered, though he didn't believe it himself.

Outraged by the idea that Braun might be leading her people astray, she angrily fired back at Hig, "Why would Braun believe that there was a friendly tribe to the west that would offer him help?"

Unperturbed by her outburst, Hig calmly said, "Because he might believe that some of what Mang told him was truth. That could especially be the case if his people were caught off guard by a force from the east that substantially outnumbers them. In the chaos and confusion, it would make sense for Braun to lead his people toward safety, even if it is uncertain."

"Your wrong, Hig. Braun would never run from a fight, no matter how overwhelming the odds! He would never seek help from a stranger, especially not from a tribe that he didn't know."

Although he had wanted to spare her his next thoughts on why her tribe had vanished in such a hurry down the trail, literally leaving any stragglers and those caught unawares behind, he realized now that she needed to hear it. "Lurde," he started gently, speaking loud enough for the others to hear also. "The only other reason your tribe might be running at such a dangerous pace is because they are running from a very real and dangerous foe that we are not aware of; they are running for their lives!"

Hig knew immediately that he was only reaffirming what she knew to be the truth, but couldn't admit to herself.

Speaking matter-of-factly, she turned her gaze on him and said, "My people are not cowards! They would not leave their friends behind just to save their own lives."

"That's not what I am saying, Lurde," he pleaded with her. And if the truth were known, he never suspected her people of being cowards. "They aren't running because their scared, Lurde. They're running for their lives. Have you seen any bodies along the trail?"

Meekly, she replied. "No."

"That's right. You haven't seen any bodies because Braun isn't leaving anyone behind." She was about to protest when he cut her off. "I'm not saying that more of your people haven't died. That would be wholly unbelievable, especially judging by the amount of blood here. What I am saying, is that no matter how severe the fighting, they aren't leaving anyone behind for the attackers, or the rising sun."

He could see that his words were having an impact on her, and he felt a great weight lift from his shoulders. Others in the group were also lifted by what he had to say, even though none of them had volunteered their personal opinions of what might have happened, or is currently happening.

"Now, if we're going to be of any help to your fellow tribe members, we need to get going. Although we are a small band, we might still be able to surprise their aggressors from behind and have an impact on the battle."

This last bit seemed to revive the overall spirit of the group. They were excited about being able to take part in a fight that might have an impact on the future of their tribe. It was common among tribe people to have a desire to be remembered by future generations in the songs that would be written by the survivors. If nothing else, it offered them a chance at immortality. And finally, none of them was cowards, or cared to be remembered as such!

Not wanting to waste anymore of his precious breath on words, and also to take full advantage of their momentarily risen spirits, Hig turned to the west and set off at a brisk trot. With the others following close on his heels, he watched the trail closely for any sign or spoor. It was weighing heavily on his mind that they hadn't discovered a body in the proximity of so much blood. He had seen other men bleed from animal attacks and accidental wounds during his many years as a hunter. He was sure that no normal man could survive after suffering such a dramatic loss of blood.

Though he mulled this over repeatedly, he still couldn't grasp what had become of the body. Even he didn't believe that Braun would waste valuable energy risking his life and the lives of his people so as not to leave any bodies behind. He only said that for the benefit of the others. What he really believed was that the attackers, whether they were human or animal, were retrieving the bodies as fast as they were killing them.

Troubling him even more than the fact that there weren't any bodies of their fallen comrades was the lack of bodies of their fallen enemies! This meant that either their comrades hadn't killed any of their assailants, or their assailants were retrieving their own fallen brethren.

As he mulled these two thoughts over, he wasn't sure which was the more disgusting.

Out of his peripheral vision he became aware that the large splattering of blood was growing more prolific the farther along the trail they progressed. This only added to his unsettling trains of thought, making matters even worse, since it was impossible to decipher if the blood had been spilled from a foe or an ally.

If their foes were collecting the dead for food, were they also collecting their own for the same grisly purpose? That, in itself, wasn't too disturbing, since there were many animals roaming the jungle that would kill their own kind for food. But if it turned out the attackers were human...

He left the train of thought trail off and quickly buried it in his subconscious, preferring instead to give the situation that almost developed between him and Lurde more thought. Even under the immense strain they were under, he couldn't deny the subtle tension he was feeling in his groin just knowing that she was so near to him. During his entire life, he couldn't remember a woman ever having such an amatory effect on him.

He was deep into his personal thoughts when the woman that was having such a profound effect on him, panted out a single word, "Rest."

In his distraction, he had become immune to his own fatigue. Now that he returned to their present reality, his fatigue came crashing down on him, sending him stumbling headlong to the litter-strewn trail. To his own surprise, he was too weak to break his fall, his chin preceding the rest of his body as it connected harshly with the planet's barely-concealed crust. Because of the traffic and turmoil that came before them, even the soft covering of moss that grew quickly between travelers had been reduced to a thin decaying skin of green mucous, providing no protection from the jagged rock beneath.

With a "Whoomph!" the breath was knocked out of his lungs, as his chest met the same unforgiving fate as his now bloodied chin.

Stunned, he lay for a moment, unmoving and unable to even draw in the life-providing air that his body so hungrily needed.

Almost immediately, he felt hands upon him, lifting and rolling him over onto his back. Fighting back the tears that were seeping past his clenched eyelids, he cautiously sucked in a small breath, fearing the pain in his chest that he knew was inevitable.

With relief, he realized that what he was feeling was normal for an old man that had pushed himself beyond his endurance. Forcing his eyes open, he was greeted by Lurde's worried expression, her face hovering just inches above his own. Though it hurt tremendously to do so, he gritted his teeth and smiled back at her.

Her relief was immense and sudden, flowing into her features, and lighting up her eyes. Before he could comprehend her next gestures, someone was handing her several large leaves that had been hastily gathered from the side of the trail. Selecting one of the leaves, she gently turned toward him and applied it to his chin, half covering his mouth as she did so. It was only then that he realized how severely he had torn the meat and muscle that comprised the lower part of his face.

With the flow of blood from his facial wound stemmed for the moment, she turned her attention to the bruised laceration across his chest. After selecting another of the proffered leaves, she gently wiped the wound clean.

When he looked at her questioningly, she simply said, "It isn't serious, your ribs are fine. The only blood you're spitting is coming from your chin wound. Although it's deep, the blood has stopped flowing already, which is a good sign."

Although she clearly didn't intend for him to speak, and possibly start the flow of blood anew, he couldn't refrain himself. He felt compelled to thank her and tell her that he felt fine; he couldn't stand to see the worry that still lurked behind her encouraging smile.

"I feel fine," he said half-garbled, his voice not co-operating because of the wound to his chin.

"The leaves have an anesthetic effect," she replied, relieved to hear him talk, even though she wished he hadn't. "When it starts to wear off, let me know, I'll replace it with a fresh one." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "Your chest, also. Although the wound isn't nearly as serious there, you have a nasty bruise that might cause pain when you breathe deeply. But the discomfort will only be temporary."

Struggling to get to his feet, he started to argue that they were losing time. With a hand planted firmly on his shoulder to restrain him, she said, "Look at the trail, Hig. It's gotten much fresher. That's what I was going to tell you just before you tripped. The fighting is over. Whatever has happened has happened."

Moving her hand around to his back, she gently helped him rise to a sitting position. The movement brought a wave of pain, causing him to wince and clamp his mouth shut to hold back the cry, while bringing fresh tears to his eyes. It hurt like Hell, no matter how hard he tried to deny it.

When the pain subsided a little, he blinked his eyes clear and looked around at the others, taking stock of their condition. While several were sitting on the trail near them, more were still coming up the trail from the east after having fallen behind. All of them were streaked with sweat, their pallor gray from lack of water. They were all exhausted, even those that had managed to maintain his pace and had rested for the last few minutes while Lurde had tended to his injuries.

It took only seconds for him to decide that he would leave them here to rest while he scouted ahead. Although he knew Lurde would protest because of his wounds and age, he had already set his mind not to be swayed.

Studying the condition of the trail for the first time, he immediately saw what Lurde meant; the trail was fresh, less than half an hour old. They were mere minutes behind their quarry! They were close! His dangerous pace had not been for naught. It wouldn't be long now, and they would discover what had happened to her fellow tribe's people.

Were they alive? Or had they been killed? And were their killers just up ahead, waiting for the usual stragglers that follow behind every tribe that is on the move?

As he considered their current situation, he suddenly felt like a fool. Running full out down the trail the way he had, his mind a million miles away, he could have led them right into a massacre. Only Lurde's vigilance had stopped him from possibly leading them to their deaths.

While silently chastising himself, he concluded that he deserved the wounds he'd suffered from his fall. But what troubled him even more than his injuries was that his confidence in his ability as their leader had been badly shaken. Worse, he could tell in Lurde's eyes that she knew it too.

In addition, if her confidence in him had suffered the same blow as his had, would she even consider allowing him to scout ahead on his own? Or would she insist on one of the younger, less experienced men?

Well, she would discover soon enough that when he made his mind up, no woman was going to change it!

With beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and dripping from his bloodied chin, he painfully twisted over onto his side and planted his hands firmly beneath him. Lurde, realizing what his intentions were, sprang to her feet and placed her own hands on the back of his shoulder blades, pressing down firmly enough to thwart his efforts.

"Lurde, please," he gaspingly pleaded with her while settling back down to his knees in resignation.

"You intend to scout ahead and see if it is safe for the rest of us! Well, in case you haven't noticed, you are in no condition," she severely reprimanded him, her voice having a stronger impact on him than the weight of her hands on his back. "What you are suggesting will require stealth. In your present condition, you would make more noise than the behemoth."

"But don't you understand," he pleaded through clenched teeth. "That is exactly why I must go; Leeta must still be aboard the behemoth. I must get to her!"

She was clearly taken aback by his concern for his mate. She was also hurt, though she knew she had no right to be and quickly determined not to let it show. Although they weren't committed to each other, she found herself envious of the devotion he held for Leeta. She also found that it was one of the main reasons she found him so attractive.

With her resolve shattered by his conviction, she decided to meet him half way. Using a tone of voice that made it clear to him that there wouldn't be any argument on the subject, she simply stated, "Then we shall scout ahead together."

Involuntarily, he flinched at the suggestion that they would go together, while simultaneously experiencing a moment of exultation. But he was not oblivious of the determination in her voice. He had wasted enough energy already; he could ill afford to waste anymore on an argument that he wasn't destined to win. It would be better served if he saved it for the journey ahead.

"Then help me to my feet," he whispered resignedly, feigning more ire at her suggestion than he was honestly feeling. "We will stay to the trail only as far as I deem it to be safe."

Much to his relief, she didn't argue. But instead, reached under his arm and, with another woman opposite, raised him to a standing position. His head felt thick and his vision blurred. For the briefest of moments, he thought he was going to be sick.

Sensing his vertigo, Lurde kindly suggested that they should wait for a few minutes. "The trail is fresh, we will overtake them soon enough."

Her suggestion only spurred him on. After blinking his eyes several times in an effort to make them focus, he brusquely said, "Let's go."

Lurde, keeping a hand on his arm in case he lost his balance and stumbled, said to the woman that had helped her raise Hig to his feet, "We will return shortly, or send someone back for the rest of you. If we don't, fear the worst and take shelter a short distance from the trail. Eventually, a friendly tribe will be along, and you can take refuge with them until you hear what has become of our friends and families."

The woman only nodded, indicating that she heard, but not that she agreed. Hig was feeling nauseous and sick to his stomach; he wasn't in a mood to care beyond their immediate safety. Before they had gone more than twenty feet, he leaned over the side of the trail and heaved up the little remaining food still left in his stomach. He regretted it immediately, as they had no water for him to rinse his mouth with; he made a mental note not to breathe toward Lurde.

"Are you all right?" she asked, her voice laced with concern.

"Much better, now, thank you," he lied for her benefit.

With Lurde following close behind, they followed the trail until it dropped over a shallow rise, blocking them from view of the anxious faces they had left behind.

"We'll leave the trail here and veer north for approximately fifty feet. Then we'll parallel the trail for one thousand feet before turning back to the south. If I'm reading the sign correctly, that will bring us back to the trail in the vicinity of whatever, or whoever, came over it last."

Not being a scout, hunter, or tracker, Lurde had nothing to offer in the way of advice, so she nodded her silent acknowledgement and followed him as he drew his knife and started toward the north.

They hadn't gone very far when he drew up short. Signaling Lurde to remain quiet, he reached out with his left hand and pulled a wispy looking branch close to his face. Following his eyes with her own, she saw immediately what had caught his attention; the end of the twig had been cut off by a sharp instrument. If it had been ripped off, or even broken off, it would be of little consequence. But to have been cut meant that it hadn't been done by a passing animal! Unless that animal was a biped that carried steel weapons!

Furthermore, the cut was still weeping sap; it was every bit as fresh as the latest sign on the trail.

In a tremulous voice kept low so it wouldn't carry, Lurde asked, "What does it mean?"

"I think it means that whoever attacked the tribe made their departure toward the north, along this route."

"But what is there to the north?" she asked, perplexed. "Our legends describe it as a hot barren land that isn't inhabited by anything remotely human."

"Your legends and ours must be very similar," he agreed, his voice held low. "But that is not our concern right now. First, we must find the rest of the tribe's people and my Leeta." He pondered in silence for a moment before saying, "Since the behemoth's tracks remain on the trail, I think it would be safe to assume that the rest of the tribe has also remained on the trail. We will continue with my plan, but we must proceed with caution, now that we know the enemy has passed this way."

Without another word, they set off along their previously chosen path. When they had traveled the necessary distance to put them approximately fifty feet from the trail, he veered toward the west. If he had seen any more signs indicating that people had traveled northward along this route before them, he didn't take the time to point it out to Lurde. He was silent, his senses focused on their immediate surroundings, and although Lurde understood this, she still felt mildly slighted by it.

She knew that her feelings weren't rational. They were the feelings of a pubescent girl experiencing her first crush. Yet, she was powerless to control them.

When they had covered the distance that Hig felt would bring them parallel to their quarry, he adjusted his route to take them back toward the trail. He was frustrated by the amount of noise they were making, and he considered it good fortune that no one had detected them. Several times, he had wanted to turn around and tell Lurde that she needed to be quieter. Nevertheless, he refrained himself, realizing that he was making as much noise as she. He was an injured old man and she an inexperienced woman, he couldn't expect much better than they were doing.

Yet, together they made as much noise as a behemoth crashing through the undergrowth. They would have to use a different tactic when they neared the trail.

Since discovering the evidence of people moving northward through the jungle, his confidence was growing that the people they would find along the trail were friendly. However, there was too much at stake to take it for granted.

Lurde suddenly grabbed his shoulder and yanked downward, almost pulling him over backwards. Startled by her actions, he let out an involuntary cry as he fought to maintain his balance.

Before he hit the ground, though, Lurde's strong grasp just as easily righted him, preventing him from falling. She was an athletic woman. Despite everything that was going on, he distractedly considered the possibility that if they lived long enough, she would make a great lover.

Nevertheless, his physical frailty and her physical prowess both angered and humiliated him. With conflicting emotions, he turned to confront her, determined to expel his pent up feelings of frustration.

Before he could even get out one word, however, she silently signaled him into silence by putting a finger to his lips. He was immediately conscious of the warmth and electricity that flowed through her finger, setting his leathery lips to tingling. Then, all in one fluid movement, she moved her hands to her ears, signifying with the universal sign that she'd heard something.

With his anger as quickly forgotten as it had appeared, he turned toward the trail and did likewise, listening for sounds that didn't fit with the normal background noises of the jungle.

He didn't have to listen long, before they both heard the unmistakable sound of human voices. However, much to their dismay, they were too far away to distinguish the words, much less tell if they were the voices of their friends or their enemies. They had only one choice; they would have to make their way closer, and pray they didn't give themselves away in the process.

With a quick nod of his head, Hig took the lead, Lurde following close behind. He moved slower than he felt would be necessary if he didn't have to consider Lurde's inexperience at moving with stealth. It had never mattered to her whether anyone could hear her moving through the jungle, until now. Now, however, the slightest sound could mean their death, and quite possibly the deaths of their friends.

Much to Hig's delight, Lurde moved silently behind him. So silently, in fact, that after every few feet, he would glance backwards to make sure she was still there. Lurde knew why he did this and managed a quick, almost furtive smile in return.

They were almost to the trail when Hig suddenly sensed movement just ahead. Immediately, he froze in his tracks, his senses keened to the point where everything seemed surreal; all sounds, scents, and even the lack of movement surrounding him, seemed to indicate danger. Since there was only silence behind him, he didn't feel it necessary to turn and advise the same to Lurde, as he could tell that she had already followed suit.

With the knife held at the ready in his right hand, he reached out with his left and gently moved the last low-hanging limb between him and the trail. In that moment, he heard Lurde suddenly gasp behind him!

Before he could turn around, another voice broke the silence. "Mother!"

There was a flurry of movement, then Lurde's voice responding, "Braun! Thank God, it's you!"

"Hig! I knew you would look after my mother," came Braun's excited reply, as he stepped out of the undergrowth and scooped his mother up in his arms and embraced her.

Several more braves materialized from the surrounding jungle. Although they were smiling broadly at Hig and Lurde, Hig sensed a profound sadness in their eyes.

Before he could question the reason for it, though, he had a more urgent need of knowing where his Leeta was. Turning to face Braun, he quickly asked, "Where is Leeta?"

Almost before the words left his lips, he could feel the vise-like grip of dread encircling his chest, making it difficult to breathe. Only when Braun hesitated, did he realize that he was holding his breath in anticipation of the blow that was coming.

"Braun, tell him. He needs to know," urged Lurde, acutely aware of Hig's anxiety.

"I'm not sure, exactly," he started slowly, the sadness creeping to the forefront of his expression. "When we were attacked, the behemoth went crazy. Most of the able men were still out in the jungle to the south looking for Mang. Fortunately, the beast didn't trample anyone in its headlong rush westward. Unfortunately, we don't know when, or if it has stopped, yet. I've sent two scouts up the trail looking for it, but because of the chaos and havoc we've suffered here, I can't spare anymore."

"That's all right," Hig heard himself saying. "You have done more than enough already. As soon as I can get some supplies and water, I will be on my way."

"I'm afraid that's not possible," said Braun hesitantly, his mother's expression turning to one of shock, as she comprehended the meaning of his words.

"Braun!" she gasped. "After everything he has done for our people, we cannot deny him a few day's worth of food and water so that he might start searching for his mate! How can you be so callous?"

"It's not that at all," he quickly protested. "If he wants to leave this minute, he is welcome to do so. Did I not already explain that I have sent scouts ahead in search of her?"

"Yes," replied Hig, equally confused by his response. "And now, if I could just get a few supplies, I will be on my way. Unless there is some reason that is more important than my Leeta...."

"Come, let's get back to the others," Braun quickly suggested. "I will explain on the way. They are just a short distance up the trail. It would be remiss of me to leave them unprotected for any length of time, since we know not if our enemies might return."

Hig looked around at the few men that fell into formation with them. Their numbers totaled less than twenty; one tenth of the number that originally comprised the tribe.

A disturbing thought suddenly entered Hig's head: why did Braun feel it was necessary to hurry back to the rest of the tribe? Unless, and this thought disturbed Hig immensely, their numbers had been decimated by the attackers? But that didn't make any sense, either. If that many people had been killed, where were the bodies?

Although he was anxious to start after his Leeta, he had to know what happened to the tribe first. Since Braun seemed hesitant to tell them of his own accord, he felt forced to pursue him with questions.

"How many were killed?" he suddenly asked of Braun, his resolve further firmed by the fact that he was convinced there was nothing more he could do for them. Without the behemoth at his disposal, he was just a frail old man. If he didn't leave them soon, he would be considered a burden on the tribe, something he had sworn he would never allow to happen again.

Sounding both relieved and troubled that the question had been openly voiced, Braun replied, "I'm not sure."

His answer was not what either Hig or Lurde expected. Almost angrily, Lurde asked, "How can you not be sure?"

Braun sensed the disappointment she felt in him, and weakly answered her, "That depends on how many you left waiting back up the trail."

Hig responded this time. "We left eighteen waiting. How many did you?"

Instead of giving Hig's question a direct and simple answer like the one it required, he said instead, "Two went after Leeta and the behemoth. In addition, I will send two more to retrieve those you left behind." He hesitated for a moment as though working the math out in his head. But the simple answer that Hig desired was still being denied him. When he opened his mouth to mention this, Braun cut him off with, "Of course, I don't know how many are still in the jungle looking for Mang."

"It doesn't matter, Braun," retorted Hig, his patience wearing thin from the delaying tactics that Braun was using on him. It further troubled him that Braun felt he couldn't just tell them. What could be so devastating that he couldn't bring himself to face it? "How many? How many are waiting up the trail, Braun?"

"Thirty eight."

Lurde let out a gasp, collapsing to the ground before anyone could reach her. Hig, the first to reach her, lifted her gently in his arms, oblivious of her weight.

"She will be all right," he said reassuringly to Braun, who also appeared to be in shock. "But we must get some place where we can heat up water and brew tea."

"We are almost there," replied Braun, the depth of his shock unable to gage. Surprisingly, he wasn't offering to take Lurde from him, a small fact that Hig made a mental note to store away for later. Twice now, within a short span of time, Braun made mention of the fact that he trusted his mother in Hig's care.

They went only a short distance farther before coming to the surviving tribe members. Hig could see the mixture of relief and disappointment in their haggard faces. They were relieved that Braun and the men had returned, since there weren't any able-bodied men waiting among the ranks of survivors, in addition to seeing their matriarch, Lurde again. Yet, they were disappointed that more of their tribe wasn't with them. Hig wondered silently if they would be appeased by the eighteen more that were still coming. He didn't believe they would. Even with the eighteen still coming, plus the twenty-two they numbered, plus the thirty-eight of them, the tribe had been reduced to merely seventy-eight members; a tribe that had once numbered more than three hundred strong!

Furthermore, something Braun had avoided telling them was where the bodies had gone! Even if it was in their religion to perform ceremonies over their deceased, it would have been physically impossible for this small number of women, children, and disabled to have carted the bodies along with them. The remaining thought was very disturbing to Hig, almost as disturbing as the total number of dead and missing. Since there weren't any bodies, he could only assume that some of their tribe members were missing, and not confirmed dead.

So, even if their attackers took prisoners, which was a relatively common practice among many tribes, why had they also taken the bodies of the dead?

To Hig's surprise and relief, a small cook fire was already burning with a kettle of water simmering on it. One of the elderly ladies directed Hig to a place near the fire and helped him make Lurde as comfortable as possible. When he saw that she would be attended to properly, he made his way back to Braun.

A small group of men had gathered around Braun, all of them looking to him for guidance. Several had returned to their posts, acting as sentries in case the attackers returned. It was a pair of just such sentries that had alerted the tribe to his and Lurde's approach.

As he approached them, they grew silent. Meeting Braun's gaze, he thought he still detected a trace of shock. Although he felt an urgency to get after Leeta, he knew he owed it to his friends to remain here until he was sure they had solid leadership. In addition, he needed to hear more of the details regarding what had happened. Did Braun have a different idea regarding the missing bodies? Was it even possible that he knew who his attackers were?

"She'll be fine," he calmly replied to the questioning gazes turned upon him. He added a subtle wink to Braun, singling him out as her son and giving him the respect due him because of it. At some point since meeting up with Braun and the others, he had unconsciously returned the knife to the sheath on his hip. Now, just as unconsciously as he'd returned it, his hand moved over it, tenderly caressing the fine engravings that had been inflicted upon the ivory hilt by its maker.

Although he was unaware of his actions, they didn't go unnoticed by the others.

Fighting down the urgency to get started after Leeta and the behemoth, Hig asked of Braun, "If the tribe has suffered so many losses, where are the bodies?"

His voice sounded brusque and uncaring, though he didn't intend for it to. Nevertheless, it worked to his advantage, as one of the men with Braun quickly blurted, "The attackers took them, along with many of our women!"

Braun threw him a scowl, showing his disapproval, and then quickly felt a change of heart when the men cowered under his glare. He wasn't acting like the leader of a tribe. In order to do what was right for the remaining members, he would have to show compassion for the missing, yet distance himself personally from feeling it too deeply. Since he had trusted Hig with his mother, he would also have to trust him in matters of tribal importance. It was time to share his thoughts with Hig and hope the elderly man might offer some insight, aside from what he already suspected.

All these thoughts, and a myriad of others, quickly ran through Braun's mind. Yet, he had only turned away from the man that blurted a response to Hig's question, and was now facing Hig, again.

Nodding toward Hig's hand, he said with resignation, "We don't intend to keep you here any longer than you wish to stay. There won't be any call for violence."

Hig, startled by Braun's words, followed his gaze downward to the hand that was fondling the hilt of his borrowed weapon. He realized with a start the impression he had unconsciously cast upon them, and quickly withdrew his hand from the knife. Suddenly self-conscious of his limbs, he crossed his arms in front of his chest and tried to look relaxed, though he knew he was failing miserably. The slight pressure of his arms against the wound on his chest sparked a surge of pain.

Stuttering self-consciously, he blurted, "I'm sorry. It was not my intention to imply that I felt held here against my will..."

Before he could say anymore, Braun cut him off with a relieved sounding, "Good, because that was not my intention. I only wanted to stress our lack of supplies to you, since most everything we owned was harnessed to the behemoth's back..."

It was Hig's turn to apologize for his misunderstanding. He had automatically assumed that Braun was being discourteous toward him with regard to the supplies for other, less obvious, and yet unknown, reasons.

"That's quite all right," he quickly replied, not letting Braun finish. "It was stupid of me to forget that the bulk of the tribe's supplies were aboard the behemoth." After a moment's hesitation, he continued on a new train of thought. "That is just one more reason why I must be getting after it. The sooner I catch up to the beast, the sooner the tribe will get their supplies back."

"You will understand, I hope, if I cannot send more than two men with you. There is still too great of a risk that the rogues who attacked us will return," he said regretfully.

"I won't need any help," Hig futilely argued, knowing Braun would want some of his own men along to assure the safe return of the tribe's possessions. "But it might help to know as much as I can about the rogues that attacked the tribe. It doesn't make any sense that they would carry off the dead of their enemies."

"That part has me troubled, also," concurred Braun. "I can understand the taking of prisoners, even if I don't agree with it. They are looking for fresh blood to infuse their breeding lines, or more regrettably, they are in need of slaves. But that doesn't explain their need for the dead!"

Braun's inability to explain why the rogues had stolen the tribe's dead exasperated him, leaving him confused and angry with both himself and the rogues. Hig, however, had drawn some conclusions of his own, and they were leaving a bad taste in his mouth. Braun, sensing that Hig was holding something back, asked, "You have some thoughts, maybe, that you would care to share with us?"

"I have some thoughts on their purpose, but I'm not convinced they need to be shared. Maybe we should wait and see if we can learn something more before we jump to any conclusions."

"If you even think you might know something, old friend, it needs to be shared with everyone," Braun gently prompted him. "We have been through a lot, and our future has been drastically changed. Our tribe has been decimated by more than two-thirds. We will be facing many new challenges in the near future and for some time to come, anything you can tell us will only better prepare us for those challenges."

"Thinking these thoughts leaves a bad taste in my mouth," Hig solemnly confessed. "Saying them aloud for other ears to hear might just help, though I don't see how. But here they are for what their worth: I think the rogues carried off the bodies of our dead because it is their custom to consume human flesh."

A hushed silence fell over the small group. Several of the men threw furtive glances at the dense jungle surrounding them. All, unconsciously, drew a little closer together.

Braun finally broached the silence. Looking around at the others, he stated clearly, "Until we know more, we will keep that thought to ourselves. Nothing will be accomplished by sharing it with the rest of the tribe; they have enough to deal with as it is."

"Since I never saw any of the attackers, could someone describe them to me?" asked Hig, suddenly feeling a desire to know more about them.

"They were either a mixture of several tribes, or they were bandits from a variety of backgrounds that discovered a common ground that binds them together," offered the same man that spoke earlier.

Both Hig and Braun turned their gazes upon the man. Braun was the first to speak. "Why would you say such a thing, Sith?"

He seemed hesitant to speak, now that all the attention was focused on him. Hig, growing more impatient to be on his way by the minute, pressured him to be more explicit. "Sith, tell us why you feel they were a conglomeration of tribes."

Looking nervously from side to side, Sith slowly and hesitantly explained why he felt the way he did. "First off, some of them were a pale white. They reminded me of the dead, but they moved just fine. These pale white creatures also wore brightly colored mail shirts over their breasts. The colors were that of an insignia, but I didn't recognize it; it wasn't like anything that I'd ever seen before. But I'll never forget it as long as I live, either."

"How did you get such a good look at them?" asked Braun, suddenly studying him suspiciously.

Hig picked up on the same scent as Braun, yet he refused to believe the man could hide in the undergrowth and watch while his friends and family were being butchered.

When the man didn't answer immediately, Braun angrily squared-off in his face and mouthed the words again. "I asked you, how did you get such a good look at them?"

Coming to the man's defense, Hig put a hand on Braun's shoulder and said, "Let him be, my friend. I think I know how he did it."

Without turning away from Sith, Braun asked one word of Hig, "How?"

"Look at his sheath," he said to Braun. Then facing Sith, he stated, more than asked, "Your weapon is still in the enemy's chest."

"Yes," Sith replied. The anger he felt for the enemy was unmistakable in the sound of his voice.

"Tell us about the others," ordered Hig gently, while Braun dropped his gaze to the jungle floor, humiliated by his hasty conclusion with regard to a fellow tribe member.

"They were much darker. Even darker than us," he quickly continued, glad to be helping.

"Did they also wear breast-plates like the pale ones?" asked Hig.

"No, none of them that I saw." He hesitated for a moment while he thought back to what he had seen. Then, suddenly, his face lit up as he remembered something important.

"What is it?" asked Hig, suddenly unable to restrain himself. "Something just came to you. Tell us what you remembered!"

"Their weapons," he replied excitedly. "They all carried weapons similar to ours, but with much longer blades." His expression quickly changed to anger, as he added, "That's why we didn't have a chance against them; they were killing us before we could get close enough to use our knives on them!"

Iron was a rare and precious commodity. Although it was as familiar to man as the green of the jungle, it was in such short supply it would have been considered extravagant to make a knife with as much iron in it as four or more regular blades. In addition, such a knife would not be practical for most chores. It would be much too unwieldy to use for butchering, or preparing most foods. In fact, the grisly truth was that it would be superior to a regular knife for only one purpose that Hig could think of, the act of killing!

Braun spoke up suddenly. "Yes, he's right. In all of the confusion, it hadn't registered. But now that I think back on it, I remember their weapons, also. Although, I must admit that I didn't notice the color of their skin in the chaos and confusion of the battle, I do remember that the men I saw were all wielding those long-bladed knives that you described."

"I don't think it's necessary for me to say this, but if it's the truth you seek, then I feel obligated," Hig started hesitantly. "But it seems to me that such a weapon as you describe could have only one purpose; one practical purpose, that is."

"Yes, you are absolutely right, Hig. I was just thinking the same thing," agreed Braun before adding, "It can only mean one thing."

Finishing the sentence for him, Hig said, "It means the men that attacked your tribe were professionals. But it still doesn't explain why they carried off the dead. Rogues, especially the cold, ruthless bands that I have encountered during my many years on this planet, all tend to have one common characteristic; they are lazy at heart. Furthermore, I've never heard of a band that cannibalized their fallen prey. A group with such a penchant would have found their way into the gossip that is exchanged almost regularly between tribes."

"Yes, you are absolutely correct, Hig. Such horrendous activities would excite a lot of talk and speculation. Surely, we would have heard of such a band before now." Braun hesitated for a moment before adding, "So, why did they steal our dead, and where did they go? No one in his or her right mind travels toward the north or south. It is hard enough just following the equatorial trail and keeping the sun off of our asses!"

"I would only be speculating if I offered any ideas," started Hig, sensing that Braun was growing angrier by the minute, and he wasn't in the mood to coddle him, nor waste time discussing what might or might not be. He could feel a growing urgency in his breast, and time was wasting. "Since we don't possess the answers to those questions, I feel that I am wasting time here, my friend. I will follow the behemoth without the aid of supplies, if I must. In addition, if I should overtake your two scouts, I will send them back with word of your possessions. If that is acceptable to you?"

"I'm sorry that I cannot offer you anything to help you on your journey," Braun quickly apologized. "But if you catch up with my scouts, please feel free to keep them with you until the end of your journey. They know you, and if you tell them that I said they are to remain at your disposal, they will show you the utmost respect and loyalty."

"I appreciate your offer, my friend," Hig replied with a nod of his head. "But please don't take offense if I feel obligated to decline. Your men are sorely needed here. When I overtake Leeta and the behemoth, I give you my word that I will remain there until you catch up with us. I will take great care of your tribe's possessions until then."

"We will take care of the supplies until the rest of the tribe is able to travel and overtake us," spoke up Lurde suddenly, from where she was struggling to get to her feet.

Angrily, Hig turned and met her gaze. "You will only slow me down! Besides, there aren't any supplies, not even water. It will be hard enough finding food for one man, much less a man and a woman!" He paused for a moment to catch his breath. Then turning back toward Braun, he emphatically stated, "Tell her that it is out of the question!"

Braun, knowing how stubborn his mother could be, looked into Hig's determined gaze. There was no simple answer. To himself, he weighed the options and the consequences. Silently, he thought, "If I agree with Hig and forbid my mother to accompany him, she will make my life a living hell. Yet, if I agree with her, and give her my blessing..."

Suddenly, the decision didn't seem so complicated. Resignedly, he said, "I trust that you will look after her and protect her." As Hig's face fell and his lips moved to speak, he quickly continued, "Although we have little in the way of supplies, we can spare a flagon to be shared between the two of you. You will need it once you find water."

While Hig was still trying to find the right words, Lurde ran up to her son and hugged him, thanking him for his blessing. Before Hig had a chance to fume and balk, Lurde said she would find a flagon so they could be on their way.

As Lurde turned away, Braun's expression turned serious, and he met Hig's shocked look with a determination that wilted his outburst before it could fully develop. Speaking slowly and distinctly so there could be no mistaking the intent of his words, Braun said, "You will take good care of my mother. If any harm comes to her, I will hold you responsible."

Since Hig hadn't asked, nor did he want Braun's mother to accompany him, he started to protest. But as he met Braun's gaze, even his protests shrank away. Instead, he said, "I will give up my own life before I let any harm come to her."

His gaze softening, Braun said simply, "I know." Then, after grasping Hig's hand between his own, he gave it an affectionate squeeze while adding, "We will see you soon."

### **4**

They quickly left the makeshift camp behind. Hig was determined to push himself so hard that she would be forced to ask him for a rest. Meanwhile, Lurde was equally determined that she would keep pace with him, even if it killed her. Within a short period of time, they were both wearied and fatigued from their exertions. Hig was tripping over stray vines at an increasing frequency, and though he needed desperately to rest, he was too stubborn to be the first to quit.

Lurde, on the other hand, was in much better physical condition, not to mention, several years his junior. Despite their earlier ordeal and growing thirst, she was easily able to match his hurried pace. Yet, in spite of her stubbornness, she could see that Hig was seriously struggling just to stay ahead of her. She was torn between asking him for a break, for his sake, and continuing to keep up the contest of wills, which had quickly become one-sided.

When Hig fell face first and was too weak to break his fall, she realized that it was time to set her pride aside, for Hig's sake, if not her own. To continue at the rate they were going, one or the both of them could very possibly injure themselves. Even something as minor as a sprained ankle could quickly escalate into a catastrophe, since there wasn't any help near at hand.

In addition, even putting aside the physical risks of injury, considering their weakened conditions, they were moving much too fast. Hig had carelessly thrown caution to the wind, and such a rash act in the jungles of Heälf could very well prove fatal. Without warning, they could come upon any number of vicious, man-eating creatures, or worse.

It was time to bring this madness to a halt!

Running to his prone form, she frantically dropped down on her knees beside him. With shaking hands, she tenderly touched his face, gently pushing his hair back from his eyes. Although his breath was coming in irregular gasps from deep within his chest, he turned toward her and gave her a warm smile of gratitude.

She suddenly felt guilty for his suffering. If she hadn't insisted upon coming with him, he wouldn't have pushed himself beyond his limits. All she could think to say was, "I'm sorry."

Even before his breathing normalized, he reached out and took the hand that lingered softly over his head. Giving it a gentle squeeze, he said hoarsely with great effort, "We are too old to be playing these childish games of pride."

She laughed at his words, reassuring him that she couldn't agree with him more. Her laugh was contagious, and though he still gasped for breath, he laughed along with her.

When their fit of laughing subsided, she stood up and pulled him to his feet. He was too grateful for her assistance to feel any embarrassment; it was past the time for him to admit to his frailties.

Hesitantly, she released her hold on his hand. To her delight, his grasp lingered momentarily. This was a clear indication to her that he didn't want to let go any more than she wanted him to. Yet, precious time was wasting, and the trail was growing colder by the minute.

"Can you tell if the latest sign on the trail is growing any fresher?" she asked of him, though she wasn't ready to continue, even if they were gaining on their quarry.

When his expression turned down, she knew immediately what his reply was going to be. Before he could answer, she slipped the flagon from her shoulder and said, "I was lucky enough to find one with some water in it. Maybe now would be a good time to drink. It has been a while since either of us has had any fluids, and it might be a while before we come across a pond."

His throat was parched, making it difficult to argue with her. Taking the proffered flagon, he undid the stopper and held it to her lips so that she could drink first. Though she felt as if she should argue with him, she accepted the gesture, and took a long swallow of the tepid water. When she couldn't swallow anymore, he put it to his own lips, and drank an equal amount. As she accepted the flagon back from him, she judged that it contained only one more drink, equal to the one they had just consumed. They needed to find water, and soon. Without water, they would be unable to maintain any kind of speed. The weaker they grew, the slower they would become.

With their respective thirsts momentarily slaked, Hig suggested that they walk along the trail for a while. It was Lurde's turn not to argue.

To their good fortune, the behemoth had broadened the trail, making it possible for them to walk abreast. Their proximity to each other, however, didn't necessarily mean they felt the physical closeness of each other. In fact, it was quite the contrary. Though they were mere inches apart, an uneasy silence cropped up between them. As far as Hig was concerned, it might have been a wall of stone. Even when one stumbled, and their shoulders bumped together, no feelings passed between them. It was almost as if neither was ready to accept and embrace what they truly felt for the other, especially since Leeta was their mutual destination.

Hig's thoughts kept returning to the last time he had spoken with Leeta and of their conversation. In it, she had unequivocally stated to him the terms of a relationship in which he might share with Lurde. In their present situation, he could meet all of her terms. But could he meet his own? He had spent almost the whole of his life with Leeta, and although she wasn't physically present, her spirit still resided with him.

Lurde shared a similar agreement with Leeta. Yet, it went against her nature to covet the affections of a man that was obliged to someone else. In addition, her own mate and Braun's father had only recently been left behind for the planet's voracious appetite. And it hurt her tremendously when she tried to remember him, only to have her thoughts unwillingly returned to Hig.

There wasn't any one specific thing that stood out about this man that strode beside her, and yet, she knew she was losing her heart to him. It troubled her immensely. She silently wondered, "Would I feel something for him, if Braun's father were still alive?"

The answer troubled her far more than the question!

"Hig," she said softly, putting her hand on his forearm.

Turning to face her, he already knew what was coming. Even with so many concerns for his missing Leeta, he was unable to keep this woman out of his mind. Yes, he was an old man. Yet, here was one of the planet's most beautiful women, offering herself up to him for his long denied desires and pleasures. He was only a man. What was he to do? Should he take her? And if he did, could he still perform? It's been years since he had a woman.

And then there was the more important question that nagged him relentlessly: did he deserve her? She was a strong, virile woman; she could have her choice of men. Why would she want him?

And yet, for some unknown reason, he knew that she did. She wanted him, both physically, and emotionally. She could feel the hunger for him between her thighs and in her heart. She needed him, and only him.

"Take me," she said huskily, her breath coming in short, quick gasps. "Take me now, before there isn't time."

Though he was startled by her straightforward manner, it served to further entice and excite him. With very little effort, she was knocking down his resistance. His manhood needed no coaxing.

Yet, he couldn't shake the picture of his Leeta perched precariously upon the behemoth's back. Though she had given him her blessing to pursue Lurde, he felt as if she were hovering over him, watching, and judging, his every move.

"I can't," he finally stuttered, her hand wrapped warmly and caressingly around his burgeoning manhood. Although it wasn't by far the first erection that he'd had in some time, it was definitely the hardest. He could feel it pulsing strongly within the sensuous grasp of her fingers, as his breath grew ragged and his heart pounded loudly within his ears.

Weakly, he put his hands up to fend her off. Inadvertently, they fell upon her breasts, and she moaned appreciatively, further escalating the misunderstanding of his intentions.

"Stop," he whispered in protest, his hands not moving from the fullness of her heaving breasts.

He was acutely aware of her hard nipples pressing between his fingers. He was further aware of the fact that his resolve was swiftly failing him.

Looking toward the western sky, he forced himself to acknowledge the fact that Leeta wasn't there. There was no behemoth standing in the middle of the trail with his beloved looking down upon them; there were no witnesses!

While he stared uncertainly beyond her shoulder, she lithely moved closer to him. With an uncanny ease, she slid the tip of his manhood playfully into her wanton womanhood, teasing him with the heat and anticipation of more.

Time suddenly stood still for them; they were aware only of each other, and the passion burning hotly between them, consuming them; the jungle ceased to exist, as they became one with each other, excluding all else around them. Each was rushing in tempo to the rhythmic pounding of their hearts, hurrying to fulfill their partner's most basic need.

Hig felt his body let go, exploding in rhythm to her heated coaxing. He was awash with relief, a release of many years' worth of pent-up sexual frustration that came pouring forth with his manly juices.

Yet, with the sexual relief, came the guilt. As his thoughts returned to Leeta, Lurde tried vainly to coax more life into his diminishing manhood, her own unsatisfied needs growing in intensity; they would not be denied!

Dropping to her knees, she took him in her mouth and used her tongue, trying desperately to forge a tool that she could put to use. But her efforts were futile. Having spent his lust, his mind refused to give over to his body.

Undaunted by his lack of interest, she reached up and took his hands within her own. Slowly, she rubbed his palms over her swollen breasts, caressing her rock-hard nipples with the calluses of his hands. With utmost gentleness, she guided his hands down the length of her belly, pulling him down to his knees. When they were facing each other levelly, she forced him onto his back. Though he followed her lead, he neither assisted nor resisted her efforts.

What she did next took him by complete surprise.

Placing his hands palm up on the ground to either side of his head, she slowly and tenderly placed a knee in the center of each. Then, with careful deliberation, she lowered her wetted groin onto his face, making it impossible for him to deny her hunger.

Lurde had never done anything so brazen before in her life, and it both shocked and amazed her when she felt his tongue come to life within her. It had worked!

In a rush of emotions, Hig's mind was swept clear of all prior thoughts. All, that is, except the immediate situation that he suddenly found himself. She was smothering him with her overwhelming desire, and it refueled the passion within his loins. A lifetime of denial and celibacy came foaming to the surface. Lurde sensed the change immediately, when his tongue found the nubbin of her desire, and he playfully nibbled it with his teeth.

Lurde was literally sitting on a mountain of pent-up desires and frustrations. Some were buried so deeply within his sub-conscious that even he wasn't aware of them. Now, because of her sexual frustration, she had inadvertently unlocked that secret place, unleashing a torrent of passion. But did she have what he needed to assuage it? Or would she be insufficient to the challenge, leaving him more frustrated than before?

In the heat of moment, Lurde didn't care. She was too busy riding her own wave of emotions, as one climax after another swept through her, pushing her further and further from the reality of their situation.

Only when her physical strength started to fail her, did she notice that Hig was still far from finding his own sexual gratification.

With her nubbin sore and inflamed from his relentless barrage of tongue and teeth, she tried to pull away, to put some distance between her pain and his insatiable appetite. But instead of obliging her, he slid his hands from beneath her knees and grabbed her firm buttocks in a clamp-like vise, digging his fingers into her quivering flesh. The ground suddenly felt hard and bruising beneath the tender skin of her knees, yet she hardly noticed. With a strength that surprised her, he suddenly lifted her away from him and rolled her onto her belly. Before she could position herself to mitigate the unevenness of the branches and vines beneath her, he was mounting her from behind, forcing her buttocks apart with his hands while driving his iron-hard manhood into her exposed rear.

With all semblance of tenderness gone from his actions, he lifted her to her knees and groped roughly for her breasts, all the while driving himself in and out of her with animal brutality.

At first, the pain was tremendous, wracking through her body, protesting his rude intrusion. But then her passion began to rise to the surface, fighting to make itself heard. Instead of resisting him, she slowly, hesitantly, starting moving in rhythm with him. The harder he pushed, the harder she pushed back.

When she was sure she couldn't push anymore, he suddenly changed momentum. Instead of the long, hard strokes, he sped up, rushing hurriedly toward the inevitable. The heat was tremendous, the dry friction almost unbearable, yet it hurt so good she came again, and then again. When he finally came within her, he sounded like a freight train, his breath hot on the back of her neck and roaring in her ears.

Then, without warning, he collapsed against her back, their sweat-covered bodies offering no resistance as they slid off one another, his now limp genitalia popping free from her bruised and flaccid backside. Both were too weak and out of breath to speak; instead, they lay silently next to each other in the middle of the trail, the hammering of their hearts and the depth of their combined breathing masking the sound of approaching footsteps.

"Mother!"

Startled back to reality, Lurde painfully rolled over, coming face to face with her youngest son. "Mang!" she gasped.

Feeling frailer and weaker than he could ever remember, Hig slowly got to his feet, acutely conscious of the fact that Mang appeared to be alone and that he hadn't unsheathed his weapon.

Lurde, the first to get over her initial shock at the sudden appearance of her youngest son, addressed the youthful face. "Mang," she started, not sure exactly what she should say next. Should she apologize for the way he found her, or should she be outraged by his prior behavior toward the tribe? After everything she'd been through, she was suddenly at a loss for words.

Hig, sensing her confusion, came to her rescue, putting Mang on the defensive. "So, you managed to elude your pursuers," he started, the tone of his voice belying the true extent of the distaste that he felt for the man. "Tell me then Mang, were you also responsible for the slaughter of almost two-thirds of your tribe? Did you make a pact with the tribe up ahead on the trail to sell out your own family and friends?"

She was instantly grateful to Hig; they had done nothing to be ashamed of; Mang had, and Hig was making it clear that everyone understood the situation regarding his deceitful actions.

The questions clearly made no sense to Mang, and both Lurde and Hig understood immediately that Mang had no knowledge to what Hig was referring. Before Mang could respond, Hig asked one more question. "Is there a tribe up ahead, or was that just a ruse too?"

He suddenly broke down, a stream of tears erupting from his bloodshot eyes and flowing downward, streaking his tortured face. Dropping to his knees, his hands held out in front with his palms up indicating surrender, he cried, "I'm so sorry, mother! It was just a ruse, there never was another tribe."

Throwing her pain and disappointment aside, she hurriedly ran to him and took him in her arms, embracing his trembling body, offering comfort to a stricken child.

Hig, however, wasn't so easily taken in by Mang's overt actions. He had fought the man hand to hand, and he hadn't been a whimpering child then. Through a flood of sobs, he could hear Mang telling his mother how sorry he was, and that he never intended to hurt anyone. The attack on his own tribe had been Gelid's idea.

Sobbing, Mang slowly continued, "Gelid said he would the rousting of his older sibling, but that unless someone was killed, they wouldn't be taken seriously."

Gelid!

If Mang could be believed, the implications were incredible! And he hadn't forgotten that Gelid had given him the knife he now carried. Was it possible that Gelid thought so little of him as a frail old man, he hadn't perceived him as a threat?

Hig chuckled softly to himself. If he was correct on this thought, Gelid had terribly underestimated him! His chuckle quickly died in his throat, though, when he considered the possibility that Gelid was behind the massacre of the tribe. Although Hig didn't recall seeing the elder councilman among the survivors, it was all too possible that his absence might have been attributable to his death. With no bodies having been left behind, there wasn't any way for the survivors to confirm who had died in the fighting, and who exactly had been taken prisoner.

It rankled him even further when he thought back on the inordinate amount of attention the man had paid to Leeta. He suddenly realized that it would be remiss of him to not consider the possibility that Gelid had an ulterior motive with regard to Leeta. In fact, the more consideration he gave it, the more convinced he became that the old man was interested solely in the behemoth, and Leeta was just a convenient excuse to use in order to get near it; unbeknownst to Hig, Gelid had been trying to learn how to control the beast that Leeta sat perched upon! How could he have been so naïve?

The thoughts that assailed him were leaving a foul taste in his mouth. Suddenly, Mang didn't seem like such a bad guy, after all.

Meeting Lurde's questioning gaze, Hig softly replied, "We must proceed with caution from here on."

Mang's anger quickly boiled to the surface when he misinterpreted Hig's statement and the reasoning behind it. Spluttering, he turned on Hig, loudly declaring, "I never meant to kill you! I was just trying to get away when you got in my way."

Momentarily taken aback by his affront, Hig didn't see the drawn knife. Before he could react, though, Lurde stepped in front of him, her back to Hig. "Put away the knife, before someone else is injured!" she quickly scolded.

His face fell at the tone of her words, and he slowly returned the knife to its sheathe. Shamefacedly, unable to meet her gaze, he sheepishly apologized to his mother, professing his remorse.

But his anger wasn't so easily denied. Looking over her shoulder and meeting Hig's gaze, he argued, "If you can't trust me, then you must go on alone! I'll take my mother back to the others. At least they will believe me when I tell them about Gelid." He paused for a moment. Then, in a weak, almost child-like voice, he turned to his mother and pleaded, "They'll have to! Won't they mother?"

Taking him in her arms, she gently consoled him, murmuring softly, "Of course they will, my son. Of course they will."

Hig, however, didn't share in her confidence. Even if Mang had nothing to do with the attack that followed his deceitful actions, the sentiment of the remaining few was such that they needed someone to blame. Hig also felt that if the tribe hadn't been so disorganized by the disruption and chaos brought about by his actions, they might have stood a better chance at defending themselves.

Yet, even more maddening to Hig, was the fact that because of Mang, he had left his Leeta alone, atop the behemoth. If he had been with her when the rogues attacked, he might still be with her! For that reason alone, he couldn't forgive Mang. It was beside the point that the man had just recently attempted to kill him; and more than likely would have succeeded, were it not for a resurgence of instinct and agility that he was unaware he still possessed.

He was tempted to take Mang up on his ultimatum. It would definitely simplify matters if he were to send Lurde and her son back to rejoin their remaining tribe members. After all, they will be the ones to determine Mang's fate, and whether they believed him or not. His only gripe with Mang was his attempt to kill him, an offense that by itself was punishable by death, if Hig wished to pursue it. But because he was Lurde's youngest son, he knew that he could never draw the knife across Mang's throat, unless it was an act of self-defense.

Yet, for reasons he wasn't ready to explore, he also couldn't let Lurde just walk away from him. Although he wasn't exactly sure why he wanted her with him, and he held no illusions concerning his eventual reunion with Leeta and the complications that would undoubtedly result from Lurde's presence, he wasn't ready to leave her out of his sight, much less his life.

This logic also meant that Mang, a man being hunted by the remainder of his tribe for crimes committed against them, was part of the bargain. Even if what Mang said is true, and that Gelid was actually responsible for the earlier deaths, without proof of Mang's innocence, he was harboring a murderer!

Hig knew full well that the consequences of such an action could result in his own death; it was tribal custom to kill a man of such a crime on sight! If and when they came upon the scouts that Braun had sent ahead in search of Leeta, it would be up to him to quickly convince them of their innocence before more people died. He could only hope that his association with their leader, Braun, would buy him a small amount of respect, and thus they would hear him out before taking action.

A new thought suddenly came to him.

Looking directly into Mang's gaze, he said, "You will come with us, but you will bring up our rear. If the scouts up ahead see you first, they are liable to unleash their fury and frustration before I can explain your presence. Do you agree to follow at a distance that will keep you from our sight?"

Hig knew that Mang would have a hard time agreeing to such an arrangement. If anything, he expected Hig to assign him the lead, the most dangerous position in unknown territory. But instead, he wanted him behind them, and far enough back that he couldn't be seen. If his mother were attacked, he would be too far from her to lend immediate assistance!

But to Hig's surprise, Mang quickly agreed to his terms.

Speaking humbly, he said, "If that is what you require of me, then that is what I shall do." Then, his gaze locking onto Hig's, he emphatically added, "But if you let anything happen to my mother, I'll see you in Hell!"

Lurde, shocked by the threatening tone of her son's voice, quickly jumped to Hig's defense. Hig tightened up inside, steeling himself against showing any outwardly sign of intimidation, though he felt a chill course through his bones at the man's words.

Before she said something that might cause a drift between them, Hig calmly responded, "It's all right, Lurde, he is absolutely correct. If I should let anything happen to you, I would be deserving of whatever your son wished to bestow upon me, and I would willingly submit to him."

Though Hig never took his eyes from Mang's, he was aware of the startled expression on her face. Only when he was sure there was no misunderstanding between them, did he turn to face her. She immediately relaxed under his calming gaze, her large brown eyes betraying her appreciation for his concern.

Gazing at her, he felt a warmness growing within his groin, and he knew that if it weren't for her son's presence, he would be having her again. He could almost feel her need for him with equal intensity.

They stood in silence, looking deeply into each other's eyes, when Mang gruffly spoke, shattering the moment. "We are wasting time. If we stand here much longer, the rest of the tribe will catch up with us."

Lurde quickly added, shocking Hig with her words, "And the behemoth might still be carrying Leeta farther from us with each passing moment."

The heat rapidly dissipated, leaving him with an acute sense for the reality of the moment. Drawing his knife, he turned to Mang and said, "Then we understand each other." Turning back toward Lurde, he brusquely ordered, "Come then!"

Without hesitation, she fell into step behind him. Though he relaxed his pace slightly, he still pushed them hard. They hadn't gone but a few miles, when the necessity of finding water started pressing to the forefront of his mind. His respiration was growing ragged, and he was experiencing uncontrollable chills and a nagging headache, the first warning signs of dehydration!

With his vision blurring, and his head pounding, he reluctantly came to a stop. When he tried to speak, his words came out sounding foreign and distant, not of his own mouth. "Lurde," he rasped painfully, doubled over at the waist while he tried to catch his breath.

He was immensely relieved to hear her voice sounding much more steady than his own. Sensing his urgency and need, however, she quickly reassured him with, "We will find water shortly. When we do, we will stop and rest."

Though Hig sensed that she was sharing in his pain, and wanted to say more in an attempt to give him relief, she prudently saved her strength for the journey at hand.

Reaching deep down inside himself, he searched for and found the strength to continue. Since his eyes refused to focus, and the hammering in his head grew steadily worse, he was forced to feel his way along the path, trusting that Lurde would alert him if she spotted water.

Each time he fell, the ragged obsidian tore fresh flesh from his shins and knees, causing him to fret over the renewed loss of blood and valuable fluids. It was best that he didn't realize the extent of the steady flow that ran unheeded in a stream down the front of his respective shins.

Lurde, however, couldn't shut out the sight of his battered legs. When first he fell, she ran up beside him and tried to steady him. But in his mental stupor, he brusquely pushed her away. Now, though she kept an arm locked under his, she too, had grown too weak to keep him upright. With each successive fall to the jagged rock that barely concealed itself beneath the loose tangle of new growth, the two of them would land as one. In addition, each successive fall was proceeded by a slower and more arduous effort to return to their feet and continue.

Hig's weakness was taking its toll on Lurde. With grim realization, she acknowledged that the man she loved might be the death of them both. Her own legs were torn and scraped beyond recognition. Their blood was mingling together, much like their souls had earlier. She couldn't help but wonder, "Was this, then, to be their destiny? Had they come all this way together, just so they could die together?"

As quickly, as the thought became known in her conscious mind, she dismissed it. She had never been a quitter, destiny or otherwise! She had been fortunate enough to find a man that loved her after losing her lifelong mate. Screw destiny! She had much more living to do, and so did Hig!

With her renewed determination came the realization that they were lying in a heap a few feet from the trail. How they had come to be where they were, she had no idea; nor did she know how long they'd been lying there unmoving.

Slowly, a small gasp of pain slipping through her parched lips, she forced her stiffening limbs into motion. With much effort, she got into a sitting position and drew her bloodied legs up beneath her. Her flesh felt clammy to the touch, yet she was burning with fever. She felt a small amount of relief when she noticed that her legs had stopped bleeding. The blood had congealed in a thick mass.

After turning over and getting her feet beneath her, she noticed Hig for the first time. She was aghast at the sight of him. She momentarily forgot her own discomfort when she saw the pasty white flesh that was barely concealed beneath a dry brown sheen. His breathing was shallow and irregular, but he was still alive.

They needed water, yet she didn't believe Hig was capable of continuing, even if she could wake him. It had fallen to her to make sure he was safe. Then she would have to decide whether to go back to Mang for help, or go in search of water.

Rising stiffly and unsteadily to her feet, she painfully bent over Hig's limp form, and grabbed hold of his wrists. She was amazed at how heavy his immobile limbs felt in her grasp. After straightening as tall as she could without losing her grip on him, she slowly looked around in an effort to get her bearings. She needed to get him farther away from the trail than he currently lay. In his current position, if the rogues returned, they would find him without even searching. Moreover, wild animals used the trail as readily as men did. Even animals that wouldn't normally attack a grown man would be hard put to ignore his unconscious and helpless form. In addition, that didn't exclude the creatures that did attack men; she could only hope that the wild beasts didn't smell him out.

Putting her weight into the effort, she slowly dragged him northward, away from the trail. It bothered her when she considered that the rogues had reportedly headed north after their attack on her tribe. But she realized that in her weakened state, she wasn't capable of dragging him back across the trail, in addition to the distance that she have to drag him in order to secure his safety in her absence.

Resigning herself to the nearer undergrowth to the north, she slowly and methodically moved him away from the trail. Leaning back, she would move him six inches, then straighten up, look around, and repeat the effort.

By the time she was satisfied with the distance she had put between them and the trail, she had covered almost fifty feet. Her ears were ringing with the effort, and her vision remained blurred. However, these symptoms bothered her less than her complete lack of perspiration; despite the high heat and humidity, her skin remained dry and clammy, almost cold to the touch.

Yet, what remained foremost in her mind was Hig's dire condition. If she didn't find water and bring it to him soon, he was going to die. She wasn't sure she could live with that outcome.

Although she was aware that the vines and undergrowth would quickly hide any evidence of a trail that she might have made while dragging his limp body into the denser jungle, she still took pains to push disturbed branches and leaves back into place, as she made her way back to the trail. It would be hard enough on her if he should die because she wasn't able to find him the precious fluids that his body needed, but it would be even more unbearable if he should die because of her carelessness.

When she reached the trail, she looked cautiously in both directions before stepping out into the relative openness. With her vision swimming out of focus at the edges, she no longer felt she could completely trust her eyes. Squinting against the encroaching blur, she slowly advanced onto the trail. When nothing happened, she turned toward the west, away from her approaching son, Mang, and went in search of water.

Less than one hundred yards along the trail, she no longer had the strength to lift her feet above the low-growing vegetation. Shuffling along, within moments, her feet became entangled, and she fell headlong to the ground, too weak to break her fall. Laying motionless on the trail, too weak to move, her breath coming in ragged gasps, she suddenly came to the realization that she might not be able to go on. It was no longer a matter of saving Hig; it had become a matter of saving herself.

The fall did little to her in the way of physical damage. But what it did to her mental posterity was enormous. While threatening to snap her ironclad will, it bent her further than she thought she was capable of bending while still maintaining a spark of defiance. Even when she lost her life-mate, the sire of her sons, she hadn't felt so drained and hopeless. Now, when she had so much to look forward to, to be thankful for, she was being pushed over the edge and into an abyss that offered no hope for return.

Summoning the last shreds of her remaining strength, and drawing from her deep well of resiliency, she mentally forced her doubts to the darker recesses of her mind; she wasn't ready to give into them just yet. Nevertheless, she knew that the time was nearer at hand than she cared to give it credit.

Crying out from the pain and fatigue, she stubbornly rolled over and drew herself into a sitting position. Unconsciously, she reached down and brushed at the irritation on her shins. When her hands came away sticky from the wet of fresh blood, she immediately grew nauseous. Under normal circumstances, she wouldn't have given such a small amount of blood any further thought. But these weren't normal circumstances, and even the slightest additional loss of bodily fluids could mean the difference between death and survival.

In an effort to swallow down the nausea that crept up the back of her throat, she gagged on the dried and swollen lump in her mouth that used to be her tongue. With a start, she involuntarily coughed, the force of which felt hard enough to tear her innards loose. Yet, it cleared her airway, and after several painful swallows that were nothing more than a reflexive action of her throat, she sucked in huge amounts of the hot, humid air that hung lifelessly all around her.

Struggling back to her feet, she was suddenly aware of approaching footsteps. Before she could turn to face the advancing sound, strong arms encircled her weakened limbs, spinning her around.

"Mother!" gasped Mang.

She had never been so glad to see anyone. And though she wanted nothing more than to rest within his strong and protective embrace, it was more urgent that he be told of Hig's dire situation. However, to her alarm and dismay, her voice failed her; try as she might, she couldn't force her dried and swollen throat to make the sounds she so desperately needed to make.

Mang, sensing his mother's frustration, said calmingly, "It's all right, Mother. We just passed a small pond near the trail. I'll take your flagon back with me and fill it for you." Easing her down to the ground, he added, "Rest here. I will be right back."

Though she tried to hang onto his arm in an effort to prevent him from going until she could explain that Hig was dying, he gently brushed her hand aside and rose to his feet. Misreading her concern and anxiety, he reiterated to her, "It's all right, Mother. I'm here now. I'll take care of you." Then, in the moment before he turned to go, he derisively said, "I won't abandon you like Hig did!"

"No!" she wanted to cry out. But only her eyes belied the frustration she was feeling, and Mang was already heading away from her, his back oblivious of the struggle going on within her.

Long before he returned, Lurde fell into a trance-like stupor. Although she was aware of her proximity to death, she felt Hig's urgency with a clarity that carried beyond reality. In her stupor, she dreamt that Mang had found him, that he'd succored him with copious amounts of cool, clear water. She imagined that Mang's efforts had resuscitated him, revitalizing the man and the spirit that lived within his body; the man that she had come to love more than life itself!

Yet, how could she possibly feel that way about another man when such a small amount of time has passed since losing her life-mate? It wasn't right for her to forsake her life-mate's memory like this. She should be ashamed of herself for casting aside her grief so quickly. What could her sons be thinking of her? Had she lost their respect?

No! She absolutely refused to believe that! Braun would not have acted toward her these last few days since Hig had come into their life, if he had felt anything but love and respect for her. She had to believe that they only wanted what was best for her.

Nonetheless, she couldn't shake off the guilt she felt when she considered Leeta. What were her selfish actions doing to the poor woman? Sure, Leeta had given them both her blessing, but did it come from the bottom of her heart, or out of her love for Hig? Was she putting her own pain aside for Hig's happiness?

Or did she carry her own burden of guilt for allowing Hig to care for and look after her all this time? Was she being torn between the guilt of her own actions, and those of Lurde and Hig?

There were no easy answers to her questions. But of one thing, she felt certain; her feelings for Hig were genuine, and he felt the same way toward her.

"Here, drink this," came a familiar voice, disrupting the thoughts circling through her clouded and troubled mind. Mang, her son has returned.

Her desperation and urgency suddenly returned; she needed to tell him about Hig before it was too late.

As Mang held the flagon to her lips, she involuntarily gasped, the water running unheeded down her windpipe. Flailing and coughing, she pushed the flagon away. Though she felt no relief from the tepid liquid, her involuntary reaction temporarily cleared her mind. Still, unable to form the words that she wanted to desperately to speak, she looked pleadingly into Mang's eyes, trying frantically to make him understand.

Instead, he misread her pleas, and put the opening of the flagon back to her lips. This time, instead of trying to drink, she blew into the flagon. Mang understood immediately that she was trying to tell him something, and not that she wanted more water!

Calmly, he urged her, "First, drink some of this, then you can tell me what it is that so troubles you. Surely, there is nothing more important than your need for water."

Since there wasn't any other way to make him understand, she half grudgingly forced herself to swallow. This time the warm liquid felt soothing and nourishing to her parched throat. Almost greedily, she reached out and grabbed the flagon, pouring more water into her mouth and sluicing the precious liquid over her swollen tongue.

Mang, suddenly fearful that she would ingest too much too soon, pulled the flagon away from her, and held it beyond her grasping hands. Gently, soothingly, he said, "You can have more in a little while. In the meantime, you must rest and let your body absorb the fluids that it so desperately needs."

Realizing that she would never make him understand the urgency of the situation if she couldn't speak, she fought back the pain and gasped, "Hig."

It was the only word she could utter, before her throat threatened to close in on and suffocate her. Unfortunately, Mang only misinterpreted her effort.

"It's okay, Mother. He won't have the nerve to show his face around our tribe again. And if he does, I'll personally castrate him for the way he abandoned you."

With renewed effort born of frustration, she forced out the single word, "No!"

Then, reaching out, she grabbed the flagon away from him and put it to her lips, intent on lubricating her throat enough to enable her to speak a few more words; Hig's life depended on it.

Gasping on the flood of water that ran unheeded down her throat before Mang could pull the flagon away, she buckled over, her coughs wracking through the entire length of her body. Her stomach involuntarily clenched taught, and her bowels flexed and heaved against the abuse they were suffering. Yet, she had to put the pain aside, she had to tell Mang where Hig was laying so that he could take him water and succor him before it was too late!

When the wracking waves of pain subsided slightly, she sought out Mang's gaze and, while waving with her right arm in the general direction that she thought Hig must be lying, cried out, "Help him, please."

Mang's expression turned uncomprehending, a mask of puzzlement and anger distorted his otherwise plump facial features; her heart sank, she was losing valuable time. Hig might be dead already because of her futile efforts.

The tepid water was taking effect; her throat muscles began to limber up. Though it still hurt tremendously when she tried to vocalize, she was finally able to spout a few intelligible words.

"Hig," she cried painfully, still gesturing in the direction that she believed him to be. "Help him, please."

Mang's look of incomprehension quickly changed to understanding, and with it anger and disappointment. Rising slowly to his feet, his eyes searching in the direction she'd been indicating, he dropped the flagon by his her side and sarcastically replied, "I don't see anything. Maybe some wild animal has found him and dragged him off."

Feeling hurt and anger at his contemptuous air, she picked up the only object within reach, which was the half-filled flagon, and swung it at his shins with all her remaining strength. Although the impact was solid, it rendered little pain, leaving no mark. Yet, it had the desired effect.

Looking down at his mother, who had rolled onto her side from the momentum of the thrust, he resignedly sighed, "Okay, I'll go see if I can find him."

Before he started though, she forcibly pushed the flagon against the side of his leg. This time, he understood immediately, and accepted the flagon from her. Then, hesitantly, he turned away from her and went in search of Hig.

Though Hig was far from safe, and despite the fact that he might already have succumbed to dehydration, she felt an immense flood of relief wash over her. Relaxing against the dense green moss that grew proficiently along the side of the trail, she closed her eyes and dozed. For the first time in a long while, she felt safe, even though she couldn't attribute any single reason why for the euphoria that comforted her.

She awoke to the sounds of heavy snoring. With a start, she raised her head and surveyed the immediate area; she was no longer lying next to the trail. However, more importantly, lying beside her and snoring loud enough to wake the dead, was her beloved, Hig.

His face was blanched and pasty, but he was alive!

Her first reaction was to wake him and tell him how happy she was. But even in her own weakened state, she knew that his rest was more important; they would have plenty of time later to celebrate their survival and ultimate reunion.

Elated, she looked around for her son that had brought them back together.

Mang!

She suddenly felt embarrassed for the feelings of regret and anger she had harbored toward him for the way he'd treated his older brother all these years. She had always doubted him, never fully trusting or believing him. And yet, when she needed him, he had come through for her.

Her feeling of elation quickly dissolved, though, when her eyes failed to find him close-at-hand. In her excitement at discovering Hig lying next to her, she had assumed that Mang would be sitting nearby, keeping a protective watch over them while they slept.

Trying to force herself to relax, she considered the possibility that he might have gone back to refill the flagon. Rolling onto her back, she looked up into the jungle canopy that hovered more than two hundred feet above them. In many places, she could see the hazy sky shining through. Usually, a large break in the canopy was a good indicator that a large pond of water could be found directly beneath it. She could see just such a break now.

Speaking aloud to herself, she asked, "How could Hig and I both have missed that?"

She was startled when a voice answered her. "In your condition, I can't believe you managed to get as far as you did, much less take notice of water indicators."

"Mang, I'm so sorry," she blurted, unable to stem the flow of emotions that suddenly overwhelmed her.

Gently hushing her, he handed a flagon down to her. Soothingly, he said, "It's okay, Mother. I've had a lot of time to think..."

Shocked, Lurde asked, "How long have we been asleep here?"

"That's not important," he said, slightly perturbed by her interruption of his epiphany. When she settled back again with the flagon to her lips, he continued, "My whole life to this point has been wasted because of a foolish desire on my part to best my elder brother, when I should have been embracing him. I know now that I have been extremely foolish. I can see now that I owe him and the rest of the tribe a profound apology. As I see it, the only way I can do that is through my future actions. The time has come for me to atone for my sins."

Lurde sensed the direction of his thoughts almost immediately. Setting the flagon aside, she reached for her youngest son, embracing him strongly. She wouldn't try to stop him from doing what he felt he must.

"When do you plan to set out on your journey?" she asked of him, unable to hold back the tears that suddenly formed in the corners of her eyes.

"Just as soon as I know that you and him (he was still unable to address Hig civilly) are capable of traveling."

"His name is Hig, and you might as well get used to it," she emphatically retorted, then just as quickly, regretted her outburst.

"He is a blasphemy of my father, your life-mate! Because of my stupid actions, I owe the tribe my life. But I owe him nothing!" He paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing. "As soon as I am sure of your well-being Mother, I will set out in search of survivors, or tribe members that may have been carried off to the North. When I return, we will see about him!" he spat, indicating the unconscious Hig.

She was still his mother and she would be damned if she would tolerate his insubordination!

"No!" she cried out in anger and frustration. "If you feel that strongly about his presence, then you leave now!" Her emphatic shouting left her voice weak and raspy, yet she wasn't finished. Barely audible, she gasped, "My life-mate, your father, would only have been glad that I was able to find another love at this advanced stage of my life. Nothing else would matter to him, except my happiness. I am only too sorry that you can't see that, and show some compassion."

Her tears would have been rushing down her cheeks if her body hadn't been too dehydrated to produce any more. But tears or not, she felt the pain of loss; she was losing a son, and they both knew it. He felt that she could reverse the situation by simply denouncing the unconscious man beside her, while she felt equally strong that he could reverse the chain of events just as simply; all he had to do was accept Hig into their lives. What she didn't see, and thus couldn't understand, was the bond that Mang had shared with his father. In his eyes, Hig was being transplanted by his mother into his father's place, and no man was worthy of that honor!

"I can see it's too late," he said softly, almost sadly. Dropping the flagon on the ground beside her, he said, "Here, there should be enough there for the two of you until you can reach the pond. It is but a short distance east and north of here." He paused, not sure if he should say more. Lurde could see the glistening of a tear in the corner of his eye and was suddenly glad. "Goodbye, Mother."

"Goodbye, my son," she whispered, as he turned and disappeared into the dense jungle growth.

She stared after the place where she last saw him until she was suddenly aware of a stirring beside her. Hig was coming around!

Retrieving the flagon from where Mang had dropped it on the ground beside her, she clumsily fumbled with the stopper, her fingers stiff and uncooperative. When it finally came free, she took a quick sip to moisten her strained throat, then leaned over the man she loved, and trickled a small amount over his face.

The warm liquid ran into his open mouth and up his nose, forcing him to gag. He came around with a start, his hand instinctively reaching for the sheath strapped to his hip even before his eyes came into focus.

Putting a reassuring hand on his chest to calm him, she quickly said, "It's all right, Hig. It's I, Lurde."

"Where... where are we? What's happened?" he gasped hoarsely.

Though he spoke, she knew he was a long way from being well. Gently, she urged, "Don't try to speak, just drink. I will try to explain everything to you. But you must be patient; my throat is still tender, also."

Pulling the flagon to his lips, he grabbed hold of her wrists while drinking greedily of the water. Concerned that he might ingest more than was healthy too soon, she briefly struggled against him until he relinquished the flagon to her.

Reassuringly, she said, "You can have more in a little while. If you drink too much too soon, you will only make yourself sicker than you already are."

Though she sounded firm and in complete control of her emotions, she was deeply disturbed that even in her own distressed condition, she could overpower him so easily. Until now, she had seen him as nothing less than a pillar of strength, despite his frail outward image! However, in the breadth of a heartbeat, her eyes had been opened, and once seen, she could not ignore the reality. She could force her eyes shut, but she couldn't force the image from her mind; the man lying on the ground in front of her was susceptible to the same physical calamities as any other man. Why had she let herself believe that he could be more, so much more?

She knew the answer to the question even before she asked it; she needed someone that was more of a man than her former mate had been. Only then could she allow herself to love again.

But alas, it wasn't to be. Her former mate, Braun and Mang's father, was an incredible man. Yet, he was vulnerable to the same afflictions of any man; he had died. And not only had he succumbed to death, he had left her in a time of need.

The time had come for her to realize that he couldn't be replaced. He had been a good mate and father. Her next mate, if she chose to have one, would be just that, a mate. He would be a man that she could feel comfortable with sharing her feelings and compassions. Yet, that is all he would be to her, just a man, vulnerable to the same illnesses and calamities that she was.

She was still young enough to feel lustful desires, and she would need a man for that. But she would never allow herself to put a man upon a pedestal and believe that he was more than what he appeared to be, a man.

He swallowed the last of the water in his mouth, coughing and hacking at the drizzle that ran up his nose. Though he was weak and confused, he immediately tried rising to his feet. With a gentle pressure against the center of his chest, Lurde managed to keep him pressed to the ground, while soothingly murmuring reassuring words to him.

"It's all right, Hig. We have water, now."

"Leeta?" he gasped, his voice hoarse and painful.

His request answered the last of her questions, though they were too painful to have spoken aloud. Hig's number one priority was still his Leeta!

Silently, she scolded herself for even considering that he might have looked upon her with the same love that he had developed over a lifetime for Leeta.

With almost the same speed that his words had pierced her heart, she felt glad that he still put his Leeta first. With relief, she knew then that she hadn't come between them. Oh, of course, she and Hig had shared each other's passion and flesh, devouring the hunger that had grown between them. But she hadn't replaced Leeta in his heart, where it really mattered.

Speaking softly, she replied, "We haven't caught up to her yet."

Struggling to get up, he croaked, "We are wasting time, we must get moving!"

Holding him firmly in place, she said, "We will go when you are better. In the meantime, you must rest. You are suffering from severe dehydration. Now drink some more."

Offering no resistance, he allowed her to put the flagon to her lips while he gingerly sipped the tepid liquid. Within minutes of drinking, he dozed off to sleep. Lurde took advantage of the situation and set out in the direction of the pond. Using the break in the jungle canopy high over their heads to get her bearings, it didn't take her any time at all to find it. Like most ponds, it offered a narrow strip of moss-covered ground along its perimeter.

Lowering herself to her knees, she removed the stopper from the flagon and held it beneath the water. When the stream of rising bubbles stopped, she pulled it from the water and replaced the stopper. Instead of rising to her feet and returning to the place where Hig was comfortably sleeping, though, she rolled over onto her back and stretched out on the soft, lush blanket. She was only a short distance from Hig. If he awoke before she returned, she would hear him calling for her. There was nothing pressing in on her thoughts at the moment, except for the future.

Closing her eyes, she silently drifted off to sleep, the full flagon of water lying beside her prone and vulnerable body.

### **5**

Time was flowing through the dense humid jungle growth with all the force of a wispy breath of decaying flesh when Lurde was jerked bodily out of her deep slumber. Rough, calloused hands grasped her upper arms, imprinting ugly bruises beneath her deeply tanned skin. Instinctively, she struck out, flailing wildly against the unknown demons that held her bound.

She was clawing, scratching, and kicking at any exposed flesh her assailant was unlucky enough to turn toward her, when she was brutally knocked awry. Scrabbling wildly for balance on the slick moss, she felt her feet sliding out from under her. It took only a moment for her to realize that the arms restraining her had absorbed the bulk of the impact, and yet he easily managed to maintain his hold on her without compromising her stance.

With a vicious shove, he callously flung her to the side as though she were nothing more than a soggy piece of leather, spinning around to face his new opponent. Taking advantage of the moment, she scrambled frantically on her hands and knees, working feverishly to put as much distance between her assailant and savior as possible. Her only conscious thought was to reach the sanctuary of the dense undergrowth immediately in front of her. Unfortunately, in her panicked haste, she quickly lost her precarious grip on the slick surface and slid uncontrollably, tumbling sideways into the water.

Unlike most ponds that were the result of bursting bubbles of hot magma that eventually filled with condensing moisture from the water laden air, this one lacked the smooth, gradually sloping sides. Instead, when the captured gasses burst forth, rupturing the thin membrane of superheated magma, only the upper circumference broke away, leaving a shear drop-off along its outer perimeter. When the magma cooled and hardened, water eventually filled it to the brim.

As she tried desperately to roll over and grab hold of the undercut edge, her momentum foiled her efforts, instead carrying her outward and away. Her cry baffled by the water, her beautiful face slid beneath the surface.

Hig was acutely aware of her feeble cry, but he was too busy tending to his own problems to lend her assistance.

Having woken alone, he immediately set out trying to find Lurde. With his senses somewhat renewed by his short rest and intake of fluids, he noticed the opening in the jungle canopy straight away. It was a natural assumption from there that Lurde had returned to the pond to refill the flagon while he continued to sleep.

After a brief struggle with his protesting muscles, he managed to get to his feet. While he waited for the dizziness and nausea to pass, he took note of his surroundings, quickly getting his bearings. When he was sure he could walk without fear of falling and injuring himself, he awkwardly set off trudging in what he believed to be the general direction of the pond.

Although it was but a short distance, he was feeling much better by the time he drew close enough to smell the water. Intermingled with the fragrant essence of water, however, was another scent; one that immediately set off warning bells in the deep recesses of his mind. It was a peculiar odor, almost reminiscent of rotting flesh, but not quite as pungent. He'd only ever smelled this odor once before, immediately following the attack on his new friends. Even after the rogues had left, this odor had lingered in the air, having been trapped in the moisture-laden foliage.

Suddenly worried for Lurde's safety, his hand went to the hilt of the knife that was strapped over his right hip. He was unaware of his actions, even as the knife slid free of its confines. All the while, he continued moving cautiously forward, careful not to make any sounds that might give him away. He was especially careful not to brush up against any of the densely crowded vegetation for fear the movement might be seen. And though he took all of these precautions, he wasn't aware of it; he was no more aware of his covert actions than he was aware of what danger lay ahead.

He was nearing the spot where he believed the pond to be when Lurde's frantic screams came crashing through the undergrowth. With his heart threatening to burst through his chest, he threw all caution aside and broke into a jilted run, charging through the dense undergrowth with the short-bladed weapon held out in front of him. With a mixture of shock and surprise, he suddenly broke out of the vegetation and into a small clearing. Beyond the clearing lay the smooth expanse of a pond.

But almost before the sight registered in his mind, he was upon them. Directly before him, his back exposed and vulnerable to Hig, stood a tall, pale-skinned man trying desperately to hold onto a kicking, scratching, wildcat of a woman. Unable to react or slow his momentum, Hig followed behind the sharp, piercing blade of his knife as it sliced deeply into the man's broad, muscular back, cutting through flesh and muscle tissue with equal ease, stopping only when the finger-guard on the hilt met the quivering flesh surrounding the wound.

Hig's slight bulk struck the man next, knocking him off balance and sending Lurde sprawling away from him. Despite the vicious wound, and the fact that the blade remained wedged deeply in his flesh, the man caught himself and spun around to face his assailant.

Unable to arrest his own momentum with the same speed and agility of the larger man, Hig dropped to his haunches and slid across the shallow expanse of moss, just stopping short of the pond's edge. At almost the same moment, he heard Lurde's choking plea for help.

The big, pale-skinned man grabbed at Hig's head as he slid beneath him, but he was moving too fast for him. As the man spun back around to face him, Hig, still lying on his backside, kicked out with his heel, aiming for his enemy's groin.

Unfortunately, the moss was too slippery, and his aim wasn't very good. Instead of landing a blow against the man's genitals, his heel connected with the man's thigh. Instead of causing further injury to his opponent, the kick to the man's thigh only propelled Hig backwards, away from his opponent, and towards the water's edge. Before he could stop himself, he slid over and down, grabbing wildly for any handhold in the moss-covered bank. His fists came away with little more than green, gooey chunks of moss, and then he was beneath the surface of the water.

Sliding headfirst into the tepid water was a redeeming feature for him. It not only put him out of reach of his adversary on the bank, but it also had a reviving effect on his senses; he was suddenly thinking much clearer than he had been previously.

Rolling over beneath the water's surface, he quickly got his bearings and set off in the direction he believed Lurde to be. Before he was even prepared to believe that he might actually find her, his groping fingers brushed her frantically clawing hands as she lashed out hysterically for something to latch onto. Feeling his touch, she grabbed onto him, heedless of his struggle to move them away from the bank before surfacing.

Lurde could not swim, and being in water over her head had brought on a panic attack. She had forgotten all about the man on the shore, all she knew was that she was below the surface of the pond, and that she couldn't breathe; nothing else mattered to her.

Hig, however, was much more aware of what was going on, including the fact that there was a man on the bank with his knife protruding from his back. He didn't doubt for a minute that the man would eventually die from the wound. But until that time came, he still had a lot of fight in him; the man might still injure either Lurde or himself.

While struggling against Lurde's frenzied efforts to pull herself to the surface, ultimately pushing him deeper into the warm water, he slowly managed to get her away from the bank. He was acutely aware that his lungs were screaming for air, and he was even more aware that Lurde had been under the water longer than he had. In her hysterical, panic-driven efforts to get out of the water, she had ingested quite a bit. He was subconsciously considering all of this, when her body suddenly went limp, and her struggling abruptly ceased.

Fighting back his own panic, now, he moved as quickly through the water as he could before coming to the far bank. With his eyes open and looking up through the hazy liquid, he quickly scanned the edge of the pond. It was but a short distance across and he immediately feared that the wounded man would guess his strategy and hurry to this side. At any moment, the man was liable to come charging out of the undergrowth with his long-bladed weapon swinging lethally at their heads.

But for the moment, the shallow stretch of moss-covered bank was deserted, and he needed desperately to get Lurde out of the water. If she didn't get immediate attention, she would drown from the water in her lungs. In addition, each minute longer that the water remained in her, she became that much more susceptible to other ailments, each one growing more serious with time.

He remembered a young boy in particular that had almost drowned. Even though the boy had been resuscitated shortly after being retrieved from the water, several days later he became very sick. He started coughing up colorless phlegm and experienced increasing difficulty breathing. Within a matter of days, his lungs could no longer absorb sufficient oxygen necessary to maintaining life. Not long after, he died.

These thoughts weighed heavily on his mind as he hastily scrambled up the bank of damp moss, dragging Lurde's limp body behind him. His own breath was coming in harsh, gravelly gasps, whistling through his mouth with a roar. After taking several quick and deep breaths, he held his mouth shut and listened, fearful that he was making enough noise to wake the dead.

Finally satisfied that they were alone, and there wasn't any sign of the pale man on the far bank, he turned his attention to Lurde. Grabbing her by the ankles, he slid her around so that her feet were higher up the bank than her head. Although he wasn't sure of exactly what to do, he had a fair idea of what needed to be done; he needed to get the water out of her lungs!

Straddling her inert form, he gently tilted her head back until she was staring sightlessly through the opening in the canopy high above their heads. Next, he put his hands flat against her chest, just below her upturned breasts, and firmly pressed down. Staring at her honey-colored breasts and dark-ringed nipples almost made him forget the urgency of the situation. But renewed determination, he quickly put his impure and selfish thoughts aside.

Almost immediately, water started trickling from the corners of her mouth. With renewed invigoration, he pressed down with his weight, than released the pressure and waited for another trickle of water. He repeated this several more times until the trickle no longer came.

Then, working his way closer to her head, while still straddling her, he pinched her nose shut and blew into her open mouth. Almost immediately, she broke out in a fit of coughing and hacking, spitting up yet more phlegm-clouded water.

Hig was suddenly awash in relief, while traces of guilt hovered in the corners of his mind for having given loose of such insensitive thoughts. Although she wasn't out of the woods, she was alive! She had a fighter's spirit; she wouldn't quit on him now!

"Lurde!" he cried softly, elated that she was breathing and struggling to sit up.

Her eyes came into focus, and she saw Hig sitting astride her. For just the briefest of moments, Hig was sure he saw a flicker of indecision before she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly to her heaving breasts.

Shrugging it off as nothing more than fatigue and exhaustion, Hig pulled her body tightly against his own, relishing the returning warmth in her skin.

Rolling over to his side, they lay on the warm, moist moss, wrapped in each other's arms. Equally exhausted, they fell asleep almost immediately.

Several hours later, Hig woke with a start. They were still entwined within each other's embrace. Although there was little evidence of the passage of time in the jungle, his inner sense told him that at least two hours had passed since pulling Lurde from the pool.

Fighting the stiffness of protesting limbs and muscles, he carefully extricated himself from Lurde's grasp. Turning so that he could look across the pond to the place where they had entered the water, he suddenly grew apprehensive at what he saw, or rather, because of what he didn't see. With his apprehension came a small amount of confusion. When he pulled Lurde from the water, their extreme exhaustion prohibited them from going any farther. If the pale-skinned man was not dead from the wound that he had inflicted upon him, then he should have found them lying here on the bank and finished them off while they lay vulnerable and defenseless.

However, they were still very much alive, if not still recovering from the effects of dehydration and fatigue. And yet, the man was not lying dead on the far bank, either.

Of course, it was possible that he had not been alone, and that his friends had retrieved him. But that didn't explain why Lurde and him were still alive. If his comrades found their friend mortally wounded, it would have taken mere minutes for them to discover their unconscious forms on the pond's edge.

He quickly determined that the only sensible thing to do was for him to leave Lurde sleeping on the bank while he worked his way around the pond and discovered the truth.

Although he didn't relish the idea of leaving her lying defenseless in such an exposed location, he didn't see that he had any other choice. They couldn't continue their journey without knowing what had become of their assailant, if for no other reason than that of the safety of their friends, which as far as they knew, were still coming along behind them.

After several minutes of stretching, he returned to the bank and plunged his head beneath the water. He was surprised at how steeply the bank sloped downward. For the briefest of moments, he wondered at how he had managed to pull both he and Lurde up it in his fatigued condition.

Shaking the water from his thin strands of hair, he marveled at how well he felt. Cupping his hands together, he took a long drink and relished the moist fluid as it flowed soothingly down his throat. Then, stepping gingerly back from the edge, he turned toward the south and started into the dense vegetation growing just beyond the narrow clearing.

Slowly, moving cautiously, he worked his way along the edge of the pond, all the while maintaining a distance of several yards from the bank. This gave him a broken view of the water while still being far enough back that he had good cover. Moving stealthily, he searched for clues to what had happened to their assailant. Although he didn't doubt that the man could be dead from his wounds, he couldn't discount the idea that there might be more. After all, it didn't make any sense what one of them would be doing alone.

While he puzzled this over in the back of his mind, he took note of their position. When he did so, something started nagging for his attention; they were just north of the trail, which lay less than fifty yards to the south. If his memory served him correctly, Lurde's fellow tribe members had said that when the deadly battle finally broke off, the pale-skinned men, along with their captives and comrades, headed north. This made little sense, since it was common knowledge that there wasn't anything to the north except uninhabitable terrain and a certain death from dehydration. Hig suddenly had to wonder if it was just coincidence that they'd encountered one of the pale men just north of the trail. Or was it possible that the pale man was their rear guard?

Although Hig wasn't a military man, neither was he a stupid man. Of course, Captain Rodick would know the answer to this question.

Thinking of Captain Rodick brought on a wave of nostalgic longing for his missing wife and daughter. Where were they? For all he knew, they could both be dead.

Not liking the direction his subconscious thoughts were going, he forced himself to focus on the immediate situation. He was looking for clues to what had become of their pale-skinned assailant. Moreover, it hadn't escaped him that he was still responsible for the well being of a very beautiful woman; whom he'd left lying vulnerable and defenseless on the edge of the pond. Although he felt reasonably certain that there weren't any more of the pale-skinned assailants in the area, he believed if there were, they would have been discovered while they lay unconscious by the side of the pond, he was concerned that in her unconscious state she was susceptible to wild animals and hungry predators.

He suddenly couldn't believe his stupidity; he had left her lying completely defenseless!

Defenseless and vulnerable!

As the shock of his actions overwhelmed him, he reached for the weapon that the traitorous Gelid had given him, and realized with a sickening dread that he no longer possessed it. Except for his wits and fists, he too, was defenseless.

Yet, even stranger still, was his recollection of the weapon that the pale-skinned man had brandished. He had never seen anything like it before. It was much too long to be useful for butchering or skinning. Yet, in battle, it offered a vastly superior reach; this was especially true when compared to the short-bladed affair that was common among the hunters and providers of the many different tribes that inhabited Heälf. The weight of the iron necessary to fabricate such a magnificent weapon would have been worth almost as much as the airman's suit Captain Rodick was wearing when he'd last seen him.

In addition to the extraordinary weapon the man wore strapped to his slim hip, his accoutrements included a brightly colored palate of finely hammered steel, which he wore draped over his chest. The rigging suspending the breastplate over his chest consisted of a simple arrangement of iron ringlets, woven to form a braided pattern that bisected his back, offering further protection against a slashing blow from the rear. It offered no protection against a stabbing wound, such as the one inflicted by Hig when he charged to Lurde's aid. The thickness and breadth of the links represented a substantial amount of iron, adding to the extreme value already displayed in the weapon.

If it had not been for the element of surprise, Hig wouldn't have stood a chance against him! Yet, he couldn't help but wonder what he could do if he himself possessed just such a weapon. With his newly discovered survival instincts, in combination with a weapon of such magnitude, he would command power and subservience from all he met, wherever he went. Furthermore, with his command of the behemoth, he would rule the planet!

And yet, no sooner had these heady thoughts swept through his conscious mind, than he admonished himself for having thought them! He wasn't power hungry. He harbored neither the intent nor the desire to rule other men; he wanted nothing more from this life than happiness for both him and those he loved.

Moving slowly and cautiously, he couldn't shake the feeling that he shouldn't have left Lurde alone on the edge of the pond. If he had been thinking clearer, he would have at least moved her into the jungle and away from a source of water. Even a child knew the danger inherent in remaining near a pond without the security that comes in numbers.

Although he was distracted by his concern, or rather lack of it, he sensed another presence. Freezing in his tracks, he listened intently, his nostrils sniffing hungrily at the surrounding air for any aberrant scent. Without understanding how he knew, he sensed that he was being stalked, and not by a man!

He could feel the small hairs rising on the back of his neck.

Lurde!

He had to get back to her! Although there weren't any physical signs or sounds, he knew that she was in danger.

Turning on his heel, he started back in the direction from which he'd come. But before he could take his first fleeing step, he came face to face with one of the largest and deadliest carnivores on the planet. Standing more than half the height of a behemoth and carrying itself on all fours, it was the most dreaded of predators by both man and beast, alike. Even the packs of wild dog-like creatures that had attacked his village and crippled his Leeta, gave this monstrosity a wide berth.

It stood leering down at him with drool hanging from the corners of its lips. Protruding from its gums, and looking more like tusks than teeth, was the visible portion of a fine set of fangs, more than capable of tearing the hide and flesh from the body of a behemoth. Even with a knife such as the one given to him by Gelid, he wouldn't stand a chance against such a creature.

Moreover, the beast was aware of its prowess; it felt no need to hurry with regard to its next meal; which at this time appeared to be none other than he!

Momentarily frozen with fear and concern, it was with some surprise that he slowly grew aware of a calm coming over him. In a moment of clarity, he realized that he wasn't afraid to die. He harbored some regrets, but no fear.

In the same moment of lucidity, Hig knew that he had to lead the creature away from Lurde; it was the least he could do for her.

Moving ever so slowly, he raised his right foot and carefully placed it behind him. After testing the firmness of his footing, he did likewise with his left foot. Repeating this process, he slowly and deliberately increased the distance between them, all the while, holding his breath.

The beast only stood its ground, neither looking intently at him, nor ignoring him altogether. It didn't appear to be hungry. Instead, it seemed altogether content with knowing that its next meal was close at hand. It had Hig's scent embedded firmly in the fine hairs of its nostrils; there wasn't anywhere Hig could run that it couldn't find him.

Hig knew this with the same clarity that he knew he had to draw the beast away from Lurde. In his mind, he had already forfeited his life, and he had made peace with the idea of dying. Yet, he couldn't die without first knowing that Lurde was no longer in danger.

He had increased the distance between them to a little more than thirty feet. Despite the thick vegetation, he could still hear the creature breathing calmly, unperturbed by the fact that they could no longer see each other. Only when Hig's scent grew too weak would the beast find it necessary to attack. And even then, since it apparently wasn't hungry, it might just amuse itself by toying with him before killing him. Instead of a clean, quick kill, for instance, it would rip one of his arms or legs loose, impairing his ability to escape. Then, while he squirmed and screamed in anguish, futilely trying to get away, it would bat him around like nothing more than a jungle rodent.

These thoughts and more were flooding through his mind when suddenly his foot came down on something flat and unyielding. With glee, he immediately recognized the object for what it was, and more importantly, what it meant to his and Lurde's survival.

Without thinking, he stooped down and grasped up the hilt of the long-knife, never considering where its former owner might be.

The weapon felt right in his hand, comfortable, like an old friend. He was further surprised when he wielded it, boldly slashing out at a low hanging branch near his head. Despite its extraordinary length and weight for a weapon, it felt like an extension of his arm, the branch lightly falling to the ground, a cleanly severed nub protruding from the vegetation. For the briefest of moments, he marveled at the distance between where he stood and the freshly cut nub. He could never have come close to achieving such a simple feat with a short-bladed knife. Only with the magnificent weapon that he now held, could he even begin to imagine that he might actually survive the next few minutes to come out the conqueror and live!

With renewed hope and vigor, he swung the blade about his head, sweeping it back and forth and slashing downward, halting the blade with ease just inches from the moss-covered obsidian. He was so excited, he felt like crying out with joy. Yet, he hadn't forgotten the beast that stood just a few scant feet beyond the nearest vegetation.

Its presence quickly tempered his joyous mood. Even from this distance, he could hear its breath moving in and out of its massive lung cavity, the drool creating a whispering hush that sounded almost tranquil, belying the true threat.

Even while Hig reveled in his newfound glory, the beast stirred. It had gotten the scent of something, or someone, else. Hig could feel the tension of his wiry muscles flowing through his veins and down his arms; he was becoming one with the weapon. Although he had never wielded anything remotely like it, he rejoiced in the confidence that he felt growing within his grasp.

The beast was moving, but not in his direction. It was moving noisily toward the trail, trampling any and all vegetation that stood between it and its next quarry. It was on the prowl of a new scent and had logged away Hig's for later. Although it feared nothing, it was still cautious by nature.

With a trembling heart, Hig feared the worst; it had picked up Lurde's scent and he would have to move fast if he was going to draw it away from her. If it came across her unconscious body lying helplessly by the pond, it might not show her the same patience it had shown him.

With the blade raised above his head and poised to strike, he moved swiftly after its retreating form. When he was less than eight feet from its powerfully muscled hindquarters, it suddenly reared up to its full height, and spun around to face him. An ear-splitting roar erupted from its cavernous mouth, while white, foamy saliva spewed forth, covering the surrounding vegetation.

The sound still ringing in his ears, Hig braced for the assault. The beast, overly confident in its abilities to kill whatever it came across, leaped into the air, intending to pounce on the little creature that dared to come after it. Its weight would be more than enough to crush him, if he didn't get out of its way.

With no time to strike out, Hig threw himself to the side. Using the weight of the weapon for ballast, he landed on his right shoulder and rolled up onto his left knee, his right foot firmly planted before him. He was expecting the beast to realize its mistake and immediately turn toward him; he was not disappointed.

At the same moment the creature turned toward him, he slashed out with his newly acquired weapon, the tip slicing cleanly through the animal's dense fur coat. Although it wasn't a deep wound, it was the first wound the beast had ever experienced, and it didn't relish the sensation of pain.

Enraged by this new assault on its senses mingling with the smell of its own blood, it recklessly lashed out at him with a monstrously large paw, each talon-shaped claw a lethal weapon unto itself.

But Hig was prepared for the affront, and with a skill and ease that belied his first use of the strange steel weapon, he deftly severed one of the creature's long-taloned paws.

It was only by sheer luck that Hig managed to avoid being decapitated by the creature's flailing limbs as it stumbled forward, screaming in pain and frustration. With renewed optimism, Hig saw his opportunity, and with scant regard for his life, lithely stepped in among the creature's frantic throes. As tufts of blood-drenched fur flew from the end of the shiny steel blade, Hig savagely brought the creature's screams of pain and confusion to an abrupt end.

Drenched in sweat mixed with the creature's blood, Hig carefully took the time to wipe the blade of his new weapon on a large green leaf. With an almost reverent air, he drew the blade through the leaf, allowing the sap to both clean the blood from the steel as well as protect it from the high humidity. As all on the planet were aware, iron was a rare commodity that warranted every level of protection one was capable of providing.

Only after satisfying himself that he had done everything possible for the care of the long-knife, did he carefully study the scene before him. The beast was dead, of that there was no doubt. In his moment of glory, he had not realized how extensively he had mutilated the creature. Now, for the first time seeing the carnage and destruction that he had wreaked on such a large and powerful creature with such simple ease, it almost scared him to think that he possessed such a lethal weapon. For the briefest of moments, he considered throwing it as far away as he could.

But then just as quickly, he realized the irrationality of such an action. If these were the weapons used against his newly acquired friends, then this is just the weapon that he would need to protect them from future attacks.

Putting the scene of the struggle behind him, he hurried anxiously through the jungle, making his way back to where he'd left Lurde. As he fought his way through the low-growing vegetation, he almost found himself using the long-bladed weapon to chop and hack a pathway. Before he did, though, he reproached himself, and steadfastly held the weapon behind his back whenever the urge struck him. It was much too valuable a weapon for use as a brush hog!

As he approached the pond, he saw Lurde sitting upright on the moss. Overflowing with excitement, he threw caution aside and hurried toward her, anxious to tell her of his find.

Startled by the sound of his approach, she jumped to her feet. Her relief at the sight of him was both immediate and complete. Slowly, still too exhausted to stand on her own, she slumped back to the moss, her head spinning with delirium.

Alarmed, Hig dropped the long-knife on the ground beside them, his joy forgotten, and grabbed her in his arms.

"Lurde!" he cried in her hair, lowering her body to lie across his legs. "Hang on, Lurde," he worriedly ordered her.

Lifting her easily in his arms, he struggled through the jungle until he came upon the dead beast. Carefully, he set her down on the dead animal's fur. Confident that the scent of the beast would cause other predators in the jungle to give it a wide berth, he quickly returned to the pond for the long-knife and flagon. Within minutes, he returned to the sight of Lurde lying unconscious atop the creature's soft, fur-covered belly.

With extreme patience, he gently straightened out her limp form, assuring himself that she was comfortable and her breathing was steady, even if a bit shallow. Then, using the long-knife as best he could, he cut several large chunks of meat from the creature's hindquarters, all the while being careful not to disturb her resting form while he worked.

Satisfied with his crude attempt at using the long-knife for butchering, he applied himself to stripping off several large pieces of the creature's hide. With this done, he tied the bloody meat up within the fur for ease of transport, as well as to protect it from the myriad of flies that were congregating.

Next, he used the long-knife to slice several long strips of hide from the front legs. These he intended to use for ropes, in case he had to secure everything together, including Lurde, so they could travel. Despite everything that had transpired, he hadn't forgotten the main purpose behind this excursion; he was determined to find his Leeta!

Every so often, he leaned over Lurde and checked on her breathing. It was getting stronger by the minute. As soon as she wakes, he thought to himself, he would begin feeding her. It might be best to give her some of the creature's blood straight from a vein before trying to make her swallow whole food.

With the thought fresh in his mind, he set to work hacking off small, bite-sized pieces of flesh from the hacked up hindquarter area. As the blood-wet bits came free, he quickly gobbled them up, barely taking the time to chew them.

With fresh blood running freely from his mouth and down his chin, he turned to see Lurde staring at him. Self consciously, he dabbed gingerly at the blood on his face with the back of his hand, only managing to smear it into a grotesque mask.

Lurde, finding his attempt at decency humorous, smiled up at him. Filled with immediate relief and joy, he grabbed up the long-knife and fell to his knees beside her. Even before he thought to offer her something to drink, he held his new weapon before her, proudly displaying it as though it meant the salvation for mankind. And Lurde, though she was too weak to speak, quickly comprehended the enormity of his find.

Satisfied that she had seen as much of it as she was capable of absorbing for the moment, he set the weapon aside and reached for the flagon of water. Holding it to her lips, he noticed with satisfaction how she hungrily drank what he poured for her. Though she wanted more, he insistently pulled it away.

With her attention still focused on him, he pulled up the creature's enormous front leg that he had severed the paw from, and with a staggering effort, poised it over her so that she could drink the blood that drained from it.

Hungrily, her appetite whetted by the salty-sweet and sticky liquid, she reached up with trembling arms, and coaxed the warm fluid down the swollen veins until it gushed forth. Only after the flow lessened to little more than a drip, did she lower her aching arms. Drained by her efforts, her stomach full of the warm fluids, she immediately fell into a deep slumber.

With a slight heave, Hig tossed the leg aside, his own arms aching from the effort. Before resuming hacking off small bits of flesh from the rear of the animal's carcass, he cautiously checked on her breathing, making assurances that she was as comfortable as could be expected. Having just witnessed her voracious appetite for the beastly blood, he harbored no doubts that she would awaken equally hungry for fresh meat. Smiling to himself, he continued hacking, growing ever fonder for the feel of the hilt that he cradled in his hand.

Finally, satisfied with the amount of bite-sized pieces piled upon a large rubbery leaf, he again takes great pains and care to clean and protect the steel of the long-knife. Although he is feeling stronger from having had his fill of meat and water, he suddenly feels tired and sleepy. His body has been through an ordeal, and it will take time to heal completely; time that he's afraid he won't have.

Lying down on the soft, still warm body of the beast, he gently takes Lurde in his arms, being extremely careful not to wake her from her restful slumber. Almost immediately his eyes close and together they sleep soundly. Even in his fatigued state, though, he wouldn't have allowed himself to sleep if he didn't feel confident that they were far enough from both the source of water and the trail to be safe. It would only be by an extreme fluke of bad luck that someone or something would happenchance upon them.

Of course, there's always the chance that another beast of prey might smell the scent of fresh blood being given off by the butchered carcass and thus be drawn to them. However, it's very rare for two creatures of this caliber to be in the same area at the same time, unless one or the other of them is in heat, and then they would be too preoccupied with their primal needs to take notice an old man and woman.

But that is a risk he must take. A risk that is no greater than most risks taken in the course of living in the jungle.

They awoke almost simultaneously. Hig stiffly stirred himself before looking around at their immediate surroundings, momentarily confused by the absurdity of waking atop the carcass of such a fierce animal. However, upon sensing the reassuring feel of the long-knife still in his grasp, the moments leading up to his falling asleep quickly come back to him.

Turning to face Lurde and discovering that she had awakened also, he smiled. Sensing his calm, she smiled back at him. The lingering effects from dehydration had left her lips dry and cracked. The blood that she'd drink earlier had further encrusted them together. Weakly, she scratched at her mouth, slowly and clumsily forcing her lips apart.

While she persisted, Hig retrieved the flagon of water for her. Holding it to her crusted-over lips, he said, "Here, drink this."

The dribbling water quickly cleansed the remaining blood from her lips and face. Although the skin covering her lips remained dried and cracked, Hig could see that it was already healing. When she finished drinking, Hig put the opening to his own mouth and drank long and hard. Setting it aside, he retrieved the small chunks of meat that he'd hacked off earlier, and extended one to her.

With no hesitation, she silently took the proffered meat and slid it past her lips. Slowly at first, and then with growing voracity, she chewed hungrily at the meat, her gums sore and tender. But the raw meat spiked her appetite, and she hastily swallowed, while simultaneously reaching toward Hig for another piece.

Relieved to see that she was capable of eating, a good sign that she was quickly recovering from her ordeal, he handed her several pieces at once before placing one in his own mouth.

Barely taking the time or trouble to chew them, she threw the individual pieces into her mouth and then almost as quickly swallowed them.

Meanwhile, Hig discovered his own appetite returning, and was almost able to keep pace with her. They ate like this until almost everything he'd hacked off was gone. With their bellies bloated and bulging congruously, their hunger for the moment sated, they washed the fresh blood down with more water.

Satisfied and content with their current situation, they quickly dozed back off. Although Hig couldn't completely squelch his inner sentiment that he was taking valuable time away from his search for Leeta, his common sense dictated their need for rest. If they pushed themselves too soon, they would only wear down that much faster. Moreover, he wouldn't be any good to his Leeta if he died trying to find her.

They had slept only a short time before Hig suddenly awoke with a start. During their short nap, they had snuggled together, becoming entwined in each other's arms. Moving carefully, so as not to wake Lurde, he slowly extricated himself from her, and then set about gathering their meager supplies together for the journey that lay ahead.

Using the previously cut strips of hide, he fashioned together several large hunks of raw meat in such a way that he could carry them on his back. Using more of the hide, he carved himself out a makeshift scabbard for the long-knife, leaving two long strips for going around his waist. Although the hide was still wet, and would probably rot from being exposed to the high humidity before he would get the opportunity to properly cure it over a low fire, it would leave his hands free for other things. With the bloody side turned out, he carefully slid the long-knife into the fur lining.

Next, he used another strip of hide to secure the flagon to the sling of meat. In addition, he added padding to the straps where they met his shoulders by wrapping them with wider pieces of hide, this time with the fur facing outward.

With a heave, he flung the contraption over his shoulder and slid his arms through the straps. With a thud, the meat settled into the bottom of the harness, almost pulling him over backwards. Cautiously, he swayed back and forth, further settling the contents of the makeshift pack when he was suddenly startled by a noise directly behind him. Instinctively, he spun around on his heels, simultaneously grasping for the hilt of the long-knife.

It was Lurde, laughing softly because of his antics. He realized this too late. His body was already committed to the move. The combination of his weakened condition and the momentum of the pack was more than he could control.

Completely off balance, he drunkenly staggered toward her. Suddenly fearful that he was about to land on top of her, she let out a small shriek, which quickly turned to hysterical laughter as he landed in a heap next to her on the soft belly of the dead beast.

Provoked by her contagious laughter, they lay together on the soft fur of the dead beast, roaring uproariously and laughing until tears welled unabated from their eyes.

When they were finally too weak and out of breath to continue, Hig forced himself up onto his elbow so that he could look into her eyes and, meeting her gaze, whispered softly, "I'm glad to see that you are feeling better. Although it might not appear to you that I do, I care for you." He hesitated, not sure how to continue. When she didn't say anything to make the awkward silence any easier for him, he took a deep breath and decided to speak his mind. "I can't make you any promises, Lurde. At least not until I discover what has become of my Leeta. When you are stronger and can travel, if you like, I will take you back to your tribe. But if you would rather stay with me, and help me on this mission that I find myself, I'd appreciate your company."

To his surprise, she silently smiled back at him while meeting his gaze levelly. Without speaking a word, she had answered his question unequivocally; and he was glad. She would continue to accompany him, and see his journey to its end.

Grunting loudly and cursing his stiff and resisting joints that were reminding him of his age and status, he finally managed to slip out of the makeshift harness for the crude pack. Rolling over to face Lurde, he gently wrapped her ravaged body in his arms and hugged her to him.

They lay together in silence for a long time, neither wanting the moment to end. Finally, Hig could feel the stiffness settling deeper into his aged joints, and knew they couldn't afford to waste anymore time.

Tenderly, he relinquished his hold on her. Like him, she didn't want to let go, but he forced her arms from around his wiry body and struggled to his feet. Then, standing over her, he pulled the long-knife from the still bloody scabbard and held it out before her. Her eyes grew wide at the sight of such a grand weapon, almost as if she were seeing it for the first time, which surprisingly, Hig finally realized that she was.

Struggling for words, she could only ask, "Where?"

Holding up his hand to silence her, he simply stated, "It was the weapon of your pale adversary...."

Cutting him off, she blurted, "Was?" Anxiously, her thoughts racing back to the moment before she slid into the water, she remembered the impact and being knocked off balance. Before she could put the swarm of images into perspective, she excitedly asked of him, "Are you telling me that he's dead?" And then, almost reverently, she added, "You... you killed him, didn't you?"

Although he wanted desperately to take the credit for having defeated such an adversary, especially one armed with such an enviable weapon, his brief inner struggle for her adoration quickly died. Instead, he told her the truth.

His smile wavering, he quickly admitted, "He was still alive when I last saw him." Almost hesitantly, he continued, "I inflicted a mortal wound to his upper back. He should have died right then and there, but he didn't. When I awoke on the bank with you, I mistakenly assumed that he was dead, or that he would have found us by then, if he wasn't. Yet, I found his weapon on the ground at a most opportune moment, and used it to kill the beast," he added, holding the long-knife up before him, his pride flowing back at the recollection of having defeated such an adversary.

He didn't need to continue for her to understand the implications of his statement; if the long-knife made it this far from the pond, then the pale warrior must have made it farther!

Seeing the troubled look in her eyes, he quickly added, "He would not have left this behind by choice, unless it became more than he could bear. He was growing too weak to carry it. He might even be dead as we speak of him."

She seemed content to trust in his judgment of the situation. After all, they were both near death just hours ago, and yet he had kept them alive and succored her back to health.

"He is dead, my love," she stated matter-of-factly. "No man would leave such a fine weapon behind otherwise."

"Yes," he nodded, returning the long-knife to the hastily made scabbard. "You are probably correct."

With the weapon settled snuggly in the scabbard over his hip, his hand continued resting comfortably upon the hilt. It felt almost too natural, as though he had worn it his entire life, and not just mere minutes. Lurde noticed his relaxed posture, and the way his hand rested so casually on the hilt. Yet, she refrained from commenting. Although she firmly believed that he would never harm her, his stance defied approach. He looked like a leader of men taking a short respite from waging war. Despite his frail build and advanced age, he appeared as a man to be reckoned with, and she suddenly desired him like no man before. A deep hunger gnawed at her stomach, creating a physical, aching need.

Hig couldn't begin to fathom the depth of her hidden thoughts. But he recognized the longing in her eyes; it was more than he could resist.

Moving into position above her, she enticingly arched her back and spread her thighs, her hands unconsciously cupping her full breasts while sensuously rubbing her nipples. The blood quickly flowed into Hig's manhood, and it grew as hard as the obsidian lying barely concealed beneath the moist green moss, his own hunger pushing all other thoughts from his mind. Throwing caution to the side, he mounted her, reveling in the soft warmth of her inner being.

Their lovemaking, which lasted only minutes, was accompanied by neither wild screaming nor physical antics. Instead, they simply made love, enjoying each other's tenderness. It was a moment of utter peace and tranquility for Hig, unlike anything he'd ever experienced before.

Nonetheless, it left them feeling even weaker than they had before. Because of their blossoming love and mutual loneliness, their already ravaged bodies would require even longer recouping.

Suddenly determined to press on, Hig rolled over toward Lurde. But the moment he saw the weariness etched into her beautiful face, he realized he couldn't ask it of her.

Resignedly, he settled onto his back and stared up at the jungle canopy. For the moment, he had to content himself with building up their strength. When next they woke, they would eat, drink, and then set out on the trail that would take them to Leeta.

Almost as quickly, as the thought took shape in his mind, he felt a sadness taking shape in his heart. Was it possible that he might be in love with two women at the same time, each uniquely different, and yet, so much alike?

Unaware that he had drifted off to sleep, he suddenly awoke with a start. Movement near the corner of his peripheral vision brought him hurriedly to his feet, the long-knife flowing smoothly from the fur-lined scabbard. Leaping gracefully from their resting place atop the dead beast's bloating belly, he landed softly on thickly padded feet, the weapon held at the ready.

The leaves gently parted, and Lurde pushed her way into view.

Feeling both chagrined and relieved, he sheepishly lowered the weapon and smiled at her. Startled to see him looking so threatening, she quickly stammered, "You were sleeping so soundly, and I needed to relieve myself." Then, just as suddenly, she was angry at feeling the need to justify her actions. Looking past him, she spat, "Did you even notice that I wasn't here you when you woke?"

Her sudden flare-up startled him, leaving him momentarily speechless. Then, just as quickly, he understood her reason for snapping at him. She was in love with him, and they were on a mission to find his mate; nothing more needed saying?

"I'm sorry," he stammered, truly sorry for the mess that he'd made of her emotions. He was truly empathetic toward her bizarre situation, and he couldn't offer her any solace beyond the moments they were sharing. There wasn't any certainty or ultimate goal, at least not one that he could see. Changing the subject, he said, "We'll eat while we can, and refill the flagon before we leave here."

"Are we going back to the trail, or is it your intention to journey farther toward the north?"

With no hesitation, he said, "Back to the trail. We have lost much time, and we have no idea how far the rest of the tribe has come. We need to return to the trail so that we can make better time."

She only nodded in agreement before reaching for the flagon and loosening it from the mold-covered fur-thong pack. After taking a long drink, she handed it to Hig. He drank more than was wise, but determined that it would sweat out of his system quickly. Setting the flagon aside, he took the proffered meat from Lurde and ate ravenously. His appetite didn't seem to have any end to it, even when his belly bulged uncomfortably.

Only after his better judgment dictated that he stop before making himself sick, did he set the meat aside. There was no conversation during the meal, and the silence that followed seemed to forbid any future attempt.

Reaching for his makeshift fur-thong pack, he double checked his knots in silence and then held out the flagon for Lurde, offering her a final drink before re-securing it to the pack. They would set out in the direction of the pond first, where they would refill it. Then they would work their way directly back to the trail.

Once he had the pack positioned as comfortably as was possible for its weight, he set off toward the pond. In silence, he quickly worked his way through the heavy undergrowth. Although he found it tempting to use the long-knife to cut a swath, he resisted the urge for fear of dulling and gumming up the blade with sticky sap. The finer juice from the leaves made for a good protectant against the high humidity, but the sap from the larger saplings and vines could become difficult to remove at a later date.

They were less than half the distance to the pond when Lurde suddenly called out to him. She had stopped a short distance behind him and was kneeling on the ground examining something closely.

Irritated by the delay, Hig turned around and slowly, grudgingly worked his way back to where she remained, her face only inches from the ground. As he drew nearer, he noticed that she was also sniffing the area. He immediately recognized that she was testing the freshness of a scent. Only when he was less than inches from her did he realize that she was sniffing a dark red splotch; he knew immediately that it was dried blood.

"What do you make of it?" he asked of her, instinctively trusting in her assessment.

"Not very old," she quickly apprised him. Then, almost glad that they were talking again, she added, "It appears to be a trail. Whatever made it was bleeding heavily and moving slowly."

"Could it have been a man?"

Although she couldn't be sure, she felt confident that it was the trail of the pale warrior, and said as much to him. "It comes from the pond, and heads in the direction of the beast you killed. That fits in with where you found the long-knife." Then, taking him by complete surprise, she asked, "Do you intend to follow it?"

### **6**

"I don't know," he stammered, her question taking him by surprise.

"You must decide between finding Leeta, or possibly saving many of my tribe members from slavery, or worse."

She said it matter-of-factly, but there was no denying the underlying tone. Or was he just imagining the accusatory implication? He never wanted to be in a position of having to choose between commitments. How could she expect him to just abandon his search for Leeta? And yet, if he didn't, he would be letting Lurde and his new friends down. Would Leeta understand?

"I can't," he stammered.

Angrily, she pressed him, her voice cutting through to his inner self. "What do you mean, you can't?" And then, almost vehemently, she spat, "Are you sure you don't mean you simply won't?"

Her words stung, and yet he firmly believed that it wasn't he who was to blame, regardless of the decision he was about to make. He had never been a coward, and he wasn't afraid to go after the rogues single-handedly, especially now that he possessed such a mighty weapon, he thought to himself, letting his eyes drift downward so that he could gaze fondly upon the hilt.

He was distracted for only a moment, before he asked himself whether Leeta would understand if he abandoned his search for her, or if he could even begin to forgive himself for having considered such thoughts. Of course, he could always resume his search for her later, but would he ever find her? And if he did, would he be too late to help her?

There had to be an equitable answer to his dilemma. Could he be so callous as to weigh the lives of many against the life of an old, crippled woman? And yet, wasn't Lurde asking just that of him, in her own way? Or was she asking him for entirely different reasons that had nothing to do with the lives of her fellow tribe members?

Gazing into the fire that was burning brightly in her eyes, he summoned up the courage and asked, "Are you suggesting that we follow the wounded man's trail in the hope that it will lead us to your missing people, or because you don't want me to find Leeta?"

Before he could react, her hand shot out and connected loudly with the side of his face. Even before the pain could fully register, he knew he had misjudged her. Suddenly, he was sorrier than he could ever remember being. He had spoken without giving her a chance to defend herself. She had proven herself to him on numerous occasions, and yet, he unthinkingly treated her so shabbily. What had come over him that he could doubt her intentions so callously?

He was also embarrassed. He could feel the redness in his face. Whether it was from the blow, or his flushing pride, he couldn't be sure.

She spun on her heel, angry and hurt by his remark. But before she could take a step, he reached out and grabbed her shoulders, stopping her in her tracks.

"Wait," he pleaded, slowly relaxing the pressure of his grip when she didn't pull away. "That was wrong of me. I had no right to even suggest such a thing."

With her anger boiling just beneath the surface, she spoke without turning to face him, the sound of her voice barely a breath, "No, you didn't, especially after all that we've been through together. Have you forgotten everything that we've shared?"

Gently, he turned her around to face him. There were tears in the corners of her eyes, but the fire stilled burned brightly within. She noticed that he was standing taller than she had remembered him, the curvature in his spine considerably less noticeable.

"Try to understand my position, Lurde. If I go after the rogues and your tribe's people, how will I ever be able to face my Leeta again? Even if she understands my motives and can find it in her heart to forgive me, I will always feel that during her second time of need, I let her down again." He hesitated a moment, choking on his next words, as he remembered the time so long ago when he hadn't been there to protect her from the wild beasts that left her crippled and broken. When she didn't respond, he self-consciously added, "However, you're right, I must weigh the many against the one. There is no other way to approach it."

Almost happily, Lurde replied, "Leeta will understand. If I know her at all, she will want you to do this."

"Yes, you are probably right," he solemnly agreed.

"I know I am right," she flatly stated, putting an end to any argument that might otherwise crop up. In the same tone of voice, she quickly added, "Now, let's refill the flagon and get started. A trail of blood will attract many predators. We must find him before they do."

With a grunt of resignation, he turned her loose and fell in behind her. Within minutes, they found the pond, refilled the flagon, and were heading northwest, gradually moving farther away from the westerly trail.

They picked up the rogue's trail of blood just past the dead creature's carcass. At first, it was easy to follow, despite the rapid growth of vegetation. They made good time. Hig began to feel confident that they might overtake the pale man quicker than he'd anticipated prior.

However, as the man progressed along his route, the flow of blood slowly dissipated. Whether this was because his wound was congealing, or the man was simply running dry, Hig couldn't be sure. But whatever the reason, it slowed their progress as they had to continually stop and search for the dwindling sign. On many occasions, they were only able to confirm that the man hadn't deviated from his northwesterly route thanks to Lurde's strong sense of smell. Despite being unable to find any trace of blood, Lurde was able to confirm that they were still following his trail by sniffing the ground and moisture-laden flora. In the thick undergrowth, it would have been very easy for the man to crawl away in a different direction and die. So, even though they could have just headed northwest at a rapid pace, they were hesitant to do so out of fear that they might unknowingly pass him.

Covered in sweat and breathing hard, Hig suddenly pulled up short. "Wait," he raspily ordered, stopping Lurde in her tracks. He waited, standing hunched over with his hands on his knees while she slowly turned to face him, "We need to rest."

Without a word, she stepped past him and hoisted up on the pack, allowing Hig to easily slip out from under its weight.

"Thanks," he uttered, while reaching for the flagon. "We'll drink half the water between us and save the other half for later. We have reached a point in the jungle where the leaves are dripping with more moisture than the air can evaporate. If necessary, we can at least moisten our tongues on them."

After opening the flagon, he handed it first to Lurde, refraining from taking the first drink even though he was still acutely aware of having been dehydrated. When she finished drinking her share, she handed the flagon back before fishing out the smallest slab of meat in the pack and offering to cut it up into bite-sized pieces.

For reasons he couldn't explain, he hurriedly declined her offer. Instead, he quickly drank his portion of water and handed the flagon back to her, leaving the stopper for her to re-secure.

Relishing the feel of the hilt in his hand, he drew the long-knife and carefully sliced off several small pieces of meat, developing a feel for the heft of the heavy weapon.

Then, before indulging himself on the bloody morsels, he found the proper leaves and cleaned the blade before returning it to the scabbard.

Meanwhile, Lurde was busily chewing on the first piece rendered from the slab. Sitting down on the ground so that he faced her, he selected a piece for himself and set to chewing on it. They ate in silence for a while, and only when they were finished, did Lurde break speak. He had been waiting for her to comment on his actions regarding the long-knife.

"You don't trust me like a man in love with a woman, Hig," she suddenly stated, the comment taking him by surprise and causing him to choke on his last swallow. Before he could catch his breath, she spoke again. "When a man loves a woman, he puts his entire being in her care. If she hurts him, either physically or emotionally, he licks his wounds and turns his back on her. Until she does something to deserve less, though, he never questions her. That is, if he's any kind of a man at all."

She paused for a moment, giving him time to defend himself.

"What makes you think that I don't trust you?" he stammered, not sure of what he should say.

"Any other time, you would gladly have allocated the preparation of the meat to me. But whether you know it or not, you took the chore upon yourself because you were afraid to let me handle your newly found weapon."

She looked hurt and vulnerable, leaving Hig even more confused by her outburst of emotions. What more could she want from him? Even if she didn't realize it, in his mind, he was following the pale warrior's trail instead of searching for his Leeta because of her, and not because he felt it was his duty to the captured tribe members. He was not that noble. And now, because he hadn't relinquished the long-knife to her so that she could prepare the meat for their meal, it meant he suddenly didn't trust her?

Women!

Because his feelings for her went much deeper than simple lust or primal desire, her behavior was a constant source of perplexity and anxiety.

"If you took my actions to mean that I don't trust you," he started, speaking as calmly as he could so as not to exacerbate her current mood, "then I am sorry. But I assure you, it was not my intention."

He hesitated for a moment, trying hard to come up with the right words to explain the way he felt about the long-knife, and how it was changing his entire outlook toward their situation.

Before he could put his turmoil to word, she openly wept, "Don't you see? That is exactly why I know, deep in your heart, you don't trust me!"

Completely baffled by her statement, Hig timidly replied, "I'm sorry, Lurde, but you're not making any sense."

He slowly reached out to take her in his arms and comfort her, but she jerked away from him. "Because you weren't aware of what you were doing makes it all the worse," she said so softly that he almost didn't hear her.

His concern turning to frustration and anger, he brusquely reached out and grabbed her by the shoulders, pressing his fingers into her flesh to prevent her from pulling away. Looking straight into her unflinching, tear reddened eyes, he emphatically stated, "I don't understand what's happening to me, Lurde, but somehow I'm changing!" He paused for a moment, and when she silently stared back at him, he released his grip on her shoulders and gently pulled her closer. He was quick to notice that she didn't resist. With his face close to hers, he softly continued, "I've never been loved by anyone other than Leeta, nor have I ever loved anyone other than my Leeta. The effect that you've had on me is confusing, to say the least. I don't know what is expected of me or by whom.

"And now, this marvelous weapon has come into my possession. I've never had such power as is being given to me by this fine piece of steel. With a woman like you to love, and a weapon of such prowess to wield, I feel as if I could control the entire world. Or, at least a small part of it," he humbly added.

He hesitated a moment, acutely aware of, and enjoying the feel of her firm breasts pressed against his chest, before continuing. Though muted by her hair, he could discern the sound of her weeping softly in his arms, making it even more difficult to continue. "And then I remember my Leeta, and I wonder what she would say. What would she want me to do?"

Startling him, Lurde whispered, "Why don't you ask me what you should do?" Before he could respond, she added, "I love you, Hig, and I would never suggest that you do anything less than what is right for you, what is the noble thing to do!"

As she pulled back from him, Hig noticed that her tears had stopped and she was sporting a determined look in her eyes. The change stirred a desire deep within his loins; he liked the way she dared to meet his gaze, her eyes unwavering. She was no longer helpless and demure. She had reached down into her soul and transformed herself to meet the demands of the situation at hand. She was suddenly his equal, long-knife or no.

Seeing his growing desire for her, she quickly defused the moment by suggesting that they get started. "We are losing valuable time standing here arguing."

Much to her surprise, he reached down their cache of supplies, and simply stated, "There is no more valuable time than that which we share in each other's arms."

With a deep grunt, he hefted the pack into place and turned in the direction they were destined, putting his back to her. Although there was more she wanted to say, his body language suggested that the conversation was over. And yet, his words had been both flattering and sincere; he was a very complex man, indeed.

Smiling, she hurried after him. She couldn't remember ever feeling so young at heart.

Their strength was returning quickly with the plentitude of water and fresh meat. They were both prime examples of the effects of evolution on a planet such as Heälf. Because their ancestors had to endure many bouts of dehydration and starvation, with time their bodies adapted to the extreme circumstances and learned to recover quickly. Those that failed to adapt, died.

They hadn't gone far when Hig detected a strong aroma, not too unlike the smell of spilt blood.

Gesturing to Lurde to wait, he easily slipped out of the pack and let it slide to the ground. Without looking back, he stealthily crept forward, the long-knife suddenly appearing in his right hand.

He hadn't gone far when he came to the pale-skinned man. The last few feet leading up to his prone form showed evidence of his attempt to crawl forward when he could no longer walk. Somewhere along the trail, he had shed the breastplate; he was completely naked except for the empty scabbard strapped around his waist.

The smell was atrocious and quickly growing worse. After a quick visual scan of the area, he cautiously approached the dead man. He was intent on securing the scabbard for his own use when he was suddenly startled by a noise close behind him.

Reflexively, he spun around, bringing the long-knife to bear on the source of the noise. A small, startled cry broke the silence surrounding them; the swoosh of the long-knife slicing through the air just fractions of an inch above Lurde's startled gaze as it swept through a savage arc. Only the comfort of the weapon in Hig's hand had prevented him from killing the woman he loved.

"Damn it!" he shouted at her, angry with both him and her for almost taking her life. "I told you to wait. Don't you ever do what you're told?"

Meekly, almost inaudibly, she replied, "I'm sorry."

As quickly as the anger had set in, relief washed it out. Putting the long-knife back in the homemade scabbard, he reached out and took her in his arms. She dropped the pack that she'd picked up from where Hig had laid it, and willingly gave in to his embrace.

His hug was firm and quick, as he gently released her and turned back toward the corpse. Without looking at her, he said, "Help me get this scabbard off of him."

Together, they undid the fastenings securing it to the pale warrior's waist, and then rolled the body over until it was free. While Lurde held it, Hig handed her the long-knife and removed the makeshift scabbard from his waist. After studying his handiwork for a moment, he decided to toss it aside. With a heave, he threw it far enough from the body so that it was safely lost in the jungle forever. Lurde handed him the new scabbard with the long-knife already inserted. While he hurriedly secured it to his waist, he glanced down at the dead man. In the new position that they'd turned him in order to remove the scabbard, several calluses had become visible.

Cinching the scabbard tight, Hig said to Lurde, "Do you see where his breastplate rubbed against his ribs?"

"Yes."

"I don't think he ever removed it before." He paused a moment, studying the corpse further. "It's impossible to tell for sure," he finally started, "because the man's entire body is so pale, but I would venture a guess that he wore that piece of armor even when he slept."

With his index finger extended, he poked at the man's stomach and chest. Then, using his foot, he rolled the dead man onto his stomach, and prodded the fleshy area just above his ass with the same finger.

"What are you doing?" asked Lurde, unable to disguise the disgust in her voice.

"It's just like I suspected," he started, sounding pleased. "His muscle tone was well developed, and yet, the flesh behind the breastplate feels almost mushy in comparison to that which was exposed to the air."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she questioned, her tone of voice betraying her exasperation with him.

"He never removed the breastplate, even when he slept."

"So?"

Meeting her gaze, he emphatically stated, "It means that he was a fulltime soldier. The men that attacked your tribe wielded long-knives and wore breastplates. And just like this man's, their skin was as pasty white as the moons above us. Doesn't that make you just a bit curious about their origins?"

Indignantly, she remarked, "We've always been curious about their origins!"

"Yes, we have," he softly replied, ignoring her anger. "But until now, we'd just assumed that they came from somewhere on this planet."

Before he could continue, she anxiously asked, "You mean, they might have come from another planet?"

"Although we can't be sure at this point," he stated softly, "I wouldn't rule the possibility out."

"But if that is true, how will we ever get my friends and relatives back?"

Unperturbed, Hig continued, "Since we don't have to worry about finding him, anymore," he nodded to indicate the corpse, "we can make better time. We'll set a northwesterly course and stick to it."

After checking the feel of the long-knife moving in and out of the scabbard, he said, "Come, we have wasted enough time already."

With Lurde's help, he slid the pack of supplies onto his back and hurried off in a northwesterly direction through the dense jungle growth. Lurde followed close on his heels.

As they moved quickly through the jungle, Hig worried that they might be too late already. If his suspicions about the pale warriors proved to be true, and they were from another planet, they might already be gone. If that proved to be the case, there would be no way to follow. Although he had heard the stories the same as every other child growing up, he found it hard to believe that interplanetary travel was possible. If it weren't for the fact that his daughter was with the pilot of a crashed airship, he probably wouldn't believe that such machines existed, either.

But he had seen the airship flying shortly before its crash, and so he knew that such things were real and not just children's stories. So, why did he have such a hard time believing that the strangers might be from another planet? If the legends of their race were true, they had originated from another planet thousands of years prior; a planet called Earth.

The farther they veered from the western trail, the thinner the vegetation became. They were making good time, and despite the time they'd lost while recovering at the pond, Hig felt certain that it wouldn't be much longer before they overtook their quarry. After all, their quarry was burdened down with many captives that would require large amounts of food and water, while he and Lurde were traveling light.

After several long hours of running almost full out, Hig decided they needed to take a short rest. It bothered him that he hadn't seen any sign of water for some distance, and all they had with them was the remainder in the flagon. Although he had originally planned to finish it at their next break, now that the time was upon them, he wasn't sure that it was such a good idea anymore; it might serve them better if they rationed it, instead.

Unbeknownst to him, Lurde had dropped behind. Before she caught up to him, he had dropped the pack on the ground and was waiting with the flagon held out to her. Short on breath, she simply waved his offer aside, preferring to rest a moment while her breathing normalized.

Hig, on the other hand, was unwilling to put it off any longer. With a flourish, he took a short sip on the flagon, relishing the moistness as it slid down his parched throat.

Herself feeling parched, this time Lurde accepted the proffered flagon and took a sip to match Hig's own. Though nothing had been said about the water situation, Lurde hadn't missed the lack of ponds lately, either.

They'd both noticed also that the vegetation was gradually changing. No longer were they moving through dense undergrowth below a thick canopy of leaves. But instead, the ground yielded many open spaces, and likewise the canopy above their heads; what would have been good indicators of ponds was now the norm. And what they could see to the north and northwest was an even greater thinning of growth. Soon, they would be afforded no protection from the reflection of the sun's rays off Heälf's two moons.

Under such conditions, they could not expect to survive for long without copious amounts of fluids.

"We will rest here in the shade for a while. It would be wise if we ate as much of the meat as possible," Hig added after a moment. "I'm afraid it will spoil soon in this heat."

"Have you ever wondered this far from the main trail before?" Lurde amiably asked of him, while settling herself comfortably next to the pack of meat.

Hig noticed that she made no attempt to prepare the meat, despite her congenial mood.

Pulling the pack over to him, he casually replied, "The only time I had reason to wonder very far from my tribe was during hunting trips or foraging expeditions. And since there isn't any game or edible fruit this far from the equatorial trail, it would have been a waste of time to come so far."

"So, what you're saying then, is that you've never been this far north before?" she pressed, watching him chop off small pieces of meat from their rapidly dwindling supply.

Handing her a bite-sized piece, he easily remarked, "No." After putting a chunk into his own mouth and chewing for a moment in silence, he elaborated. "We had no need for raiding other tribes. We were fortunate in that we came from many diverse bloodlines. Inbreeding was never a problem for us. Our braves were also excellent providers, so we refrained from stealing from our passing neighbors." He hesitated for a moment to finish chewing his piece of meat and swallow. Then, while looking into her gaze, he emphatically stated, "One of our divine laws is that we treat our fellow man as we would want him to treat us! It mattered none if he were from our tribe or not."

"That is a fine law," she said sincerely, relishing the moist meat, and the saliva it generated in her mouth.

"Yes," he softly agreed. "It is a fine law. Unfortunately, it is practiced by far too few."

They ate the rest of their meal in silence. When they were finished and couldn't eat anymore, Hig suggested that they get some sleep. "I will keep first watch."

"We could sleep together."

Although he wanted to take her up on the offer, and although he felt confident that they weren't in any immediate danger, he strictly declined, feigning instead that they needed their rest.

Almost too casually, she retorted, "I wasn't implying that we should couple, I only meant for us to sleep."

Too embarrassed to admit that he had misunderstood her intentions, he hastily replied, "You sleep first. We have no idea how close we are to our enemies. It would be foolish of us to let our guard down now."

"Yes, you are probably right," she resignedly admitted while rolling onto her side and stretching out on a hard patch of green-covered ground.

No sooner did her eyes close, then she was sound asleep.

With an hour to kill before they would switch places, Hig set about hacking off small hunks of meat. They had decided that they would eat before resuming their journey. They'd also decided to finish the water and discard what meat remained. They both agreed that they were close to their quarry, and they would steal what they needed from them.

"Of course," Hig thought to himself as he glanced around at the encroaching tundra, "if the terrain continues growing sparser than it is now, there will be little or no cover for us to operate from." Although this thought troubled him, his confidence didn't falter. "After all," he continued thinking, all the while absently caressing the hilt of his new weapon, "he had the long-knife, and a very capable woman at his side; a very beautiful and capable woman."

The hour flew by with Hig deep in his thoughts. Deciding to let Lurde sleep another hour and then continue with their plans, he was startled when she suddenly rolled over and faced him.

Before he could speak, she querulously stated, "You were going to let me sleep, weren't you? Do you think you don't need any rest?"

"I'm getting the rest I need just sitting here," he weekly rebuffed.

Taking him by surprise, she said, "You don't have to surrender your weapon to me while I keep watch. I will wake you if anything happens."

She had him backed into a corner. If he didn't give her the long-knife and sleep for an hour, which he desperately needed even if he wasn't ready to admit it, then her conviction that he didn't trust her would be doubly reinforced.

Although he could neither explain nor justify the reluctance that he felt, he held the long-knife out to her. Trying hard to sound casual, he said, "I will sleep now."

She hesitantly accepted the weapon, her eyes riveted to the hard shiny steel. Even though she had needed this gesture of trust from him, she found herself torn by it; she suddenly felt apprehensive, almost guilty.

With a jerk, she pushed the long-knife back to him. "No," she stammered. "It doesn't feel right. You keep it with you."

He gingerly reached out and took the proffered weapon back, afraid that she might suddenly change her mind again. When she didn't, he carefully laid the weapon on the ground beside him and reached out to her.

Clasping her hands within his own, he soothingly stated, "You have my heart in your hands, Lurde. I would gladly give this life of mine so that you might live. Please don't ever doubt my conviction for you again."

"I'm sorry Hig. I don't know how I could have ever doubted you. Please forgive me."

"It's all right, but I must rest now."

Releasing her hands, he settled back on the ground and closed his eyes. Within moments, he was sound asleep, his hand firmly grasping the hilt of his new weapon.

He awoke with a start. Lurde was kneeling over him, whispering something frantically next to his ear. It took his senses only a moment to grasp the meaning of what she was saying.

"They are nearer than we suspected! They are just beyond that slight swell," she was saying, all the while gesturing excitedly toward the northwest.

"How can you be sure?" he asked, his senses already alert to his surroundings.

He didn't need to ask whom she meant.

"While you slept, I scouted ahead," she whispered excitedly.

Suddenly angered that she would take such risks without telling him beforehand, he fumed at her, "How dare you go off without telling me, what if something had happened to you? There is no telling what strange creatures might lurk in this environment!"

"It's all right," she said defensively, trying to calm him. "Nothing happened." And then, with a smile turning up the corners of her mouth, she coyly added, "Except that I found the men we are after."

He quickly rose to his feet, the long-knife resting easily in his right hand. Looking off in the direction she was indicating, he strained to see. Though he squinted against the bright glare from the two moons, he could see no evidence of people, only an increasing golden hue from the waist-high reeds that dominated the terrain ahead.

Since he was unprepared for what lay ahead, he accepted the waist-high growth with a sense of relief; it offered a small amount of cover.

"We will eat and drink," he finally stated, turning toward the pack of remaining meat. "Then we will finish our meager water before we scout out their encampment."

As he slid the long-knife into its sheathe, he added, "Tell me what you saw, and don't skimp on any of the details. Most importantly, did you see where they're keeping the captives and how many men are guarding them?"

While they sat together facing toward the northwest, she relayed every detail of what she'd seen. Although the pale men weren't moving, they were spread out over a large area. Their captives, Lurde's fellow tribe members, weren't being held together in a tight group. Instead, they were scattered among their incarcerators. In addition, she discovered that not all of the rogues were pale-skinned and wearing breastplates, many were similar to any other inhabitant of Heälf. Similar also in that they wore regular utilitarian knives lashed to their hips.

When she finished giving him the full account of her scouting endeavor, he sat in silence and mulled the information over for a minute. Finally, he spoke. Yet, instead of enlightening her with his take on the situation, he asked a question of her.

"You say the captives are scattered among them. Is it possible that they have already split the spoils of their plundering, and what you saw is your friends with their new masters?"

"No," she flatly stated. "They appeared to be free to move around as they pleased; they weren't restricted to any individual."

"Then what do you make of this arrangement where the prisoners are allowed to roam so freely?" he asked of her, sincerely interested in her opinion.

"I think they feel confident that their prisoners are fearful of leaving the group, and without anywhere to hide, they could be easily hunted down. In addition, the punishment for trying to escape might be an instant death."

"Yes, I think you're right," he agreed. "But you're wrong about the lack of anywhere to hide. As long as you keep low, you can almost move at will in that tall grass."

"Until you have to break and run," she solemnly added.

Handing her the flagon, he simply said, "Drink, we will deal with escaping when we come to it, just like we will deal with this when we come to it."

He was referring to their water situation. Although he had no idea what to expect when they set out after the rogues, he had felt confident that they would find water along the way. Unfortunately, that didn't turn out to be the case. Yet, he wasn't overly concerned by the lack of water. He had reasoned that the rogues were transporting their own supply, or were aware of a source farther up ahead. If it turned out to be the former, he and Lurde would just have to find a way to extract some for their own use.

When she'd finished drinking, she handed the flagon back to him. He quickly noticed that it didn't feel any lighter.

Angered, he held it out to her, firmly demanding, "Drink at least your share, I can't have you suffering from dehydration when I need you."

Feeling foolish, she took the proffered flagon from him and drank several swallows of the tepid liquid. She made a point to savor the precious fluid, because she knew it might be a while before they'd have more.

This time when she offered him the flagon back, he took it without hesitation and put it to his lips. Like Lurde, he too savored the tepid fluid, languishing in the sensation of it going down his parched throat.

Then, without wasting any movements, he quickly secured the empty flagon to the strap around his waist. If and when they next came across water, they would need a way to transport it. While he did this, Lurde separated the slimy, fur-covered webbing that had been their makeshift pack, from the remaining meat, and coiled it around her waist. Although it possessed little strength, since it hadn't been properly cured, the action gave her a sense of purpose.

After stealing a quick glance at the small amount of remaining meat, Hig set off at a northwesterly direction with Lurde following close behind.

They hadn't gone very far when Lurde reached forward and gently placed a restraining hand on his right arm. Without a word, he slid the long-knife from its scabbard and crouched low to the ground. They had reached the northernmost edge of the jungle. What lay ahead of them was devoid of all but the sparsest of growth. Even the trees that were visible in the distance would offer little or no shade, as their branches lacked all but the most rudimentary leaves. From here on, they would be exposed to the unrelenting heat of the two moon's glow.

"If I had known what to expect, I would have made us robes from that creature's hide," he softly admonished himself.

"There was no way you could predict what we would find," she whispered back, trying to hide the trepidation in her voice.

Moving as stealthily as was possible due to the whispering rustle of the reeds against their bodies, they made their way forward through the waist-high growth. Hig, though never taking his eyes off the nearer horizon, concluded that he'd never seen anything quite like this before. The golden bronze of the reeds continued almost uninterrupted for as far as the eye could see. It was broken only occasionally by a lone scraggly growth of a tree; nothing that stood much taller than he did.

As he studied the foreign panorama before him, he also wondered why he'd never had an inclination to explore beyond their normal hunting territory. If just once he had looked beyond the known, the familiar, he would have been able to better prepare them for this journey.

But alas, it was too late. All he could use now were his years of accumulated wisdom, and the strength he drew from the long-knife.

Within a few moments, he drew up short. With a sharp tug on Lurde's arm, he roughly pulled her down next to him. Gesturing for her to remain quiet, he anxiously indicated to her that he'd heard voices, and they came from somewhere near to them.

With his mouth against her ear, he whispered, "Stay here so that I can find you again quickly."

Not waiting nor expecting her to respond, he silently slipped forward, moving stealthily through the reeds. For once in his life, he could appreciate the fact that he was a small man. With his eyes held just above the reeds, he listened and looked.

Suddenly, almost startling him, the voices came to him; they were much closer than he had anticipated. With a slight adjustment to the left, he closed in on them. When he was less than ten feet from the source, he could distinguish the outlines of two men sitting next to each other on the ground, casually chatting. It was clearly obvious to Hig that they didn't take their duties as rear guard very seriously; a fact that gave Hig reason for hope.

With utmost silence, he slowly worked his way through the reeds, stopping whenever their voices stopped, and then moving again when they resumed. It took him close to three minutes to cover five feet, but his quarry never suspected the attack that he was about to launch on them!

With the long-knife held high above his head, Hig rose to his full height and covered the last five feet with two long strides.

Unthinking, acting only on instinct and adrenaline, Hig brought the long-knife down with a whoosh, the blade cutting deep into the shoulder of the man sitting on the right.

With a shriek of surprise, the man on the left jumped to his feet, his own short-bladed weapon materializing in his right hand. Yet, he didn't cry out for help, even when he realized that his partner was fatally wounded and quickly bleeding out. Instead, a lewd grin suffused his face as the realization of the situation became apparent.

Hig, unfamiliar with the weight and force of such a powerful weapon, had put all of his strength behind the blow, driving the blade through the man's shoulder blade and deep into his ribcage, where it lodged between multitudes of shattered and splintered bones. The man died within seconds.

Unfortunately, despite his best efforts, Hig couldn't dislodge the blade; it was solidly wedged in the dead man's torso.

Although he realized that if he were going to live to fight another day he would have to relinquish his hold on the long-knife and run for his life, he couldn't bring himself to do it; not because he viewed running away as a cowardly act, but because he couldn't force his fingers to relinquish their hold on the long-knife. Instead, he foolishly stood his ground, hanging on to the awesome weapon with an iron-fisted grip.

When his tall, darkly tanned foe drifted to the right, Hig drifted the same distance to his right, always keeping the sitting corpse between them. If the rogue had been armed with a long-knife such as the one embedded in his dead comrade, he could easily have covered the distance between them, killing Hig with impunity. But because he was armed in the conventional manner with only a short-bladed, multi-purpose knife, Hig managed to stay out of his reach.

Nonetheless, he couldn't hold him off forever. And if he broke and ran now, the man could easily throw the knife into his back. He would have to find a way to dislodge the long-knife, and do it quickly.

Much to Hig's surprise, the man suddenly stopped circling, having grown tired of the stalling. With the smile still etched into his face, he jokingly said, "We are only wasting time, my old friend. Why don't you save yourself and me the trouble and just surrender?" With a casual wave of his hand to indicate the direction to their northwest, he added, "As you well know, we already have many members of your tribe. And like them, you cannot possibly hope to escape."

Through gritted teeth, Hig emphatically responded, "I am here to see that they do escape!"

"Ha! Then you know that we haven't killed them. So why would you act foolish and force me to kill you?"

Hoping to catch the man off guard, instead of responding to his question, Hig planted his right foot against the corpses shoulder and yanked on the hilt of the long-knife with all of his remaining strength, throwing his bulk into the effort.

There was an audible pop and a sharp pain suddenly wracking his shoulder. Yet, the long-knife remained firmly wedged!

Laughing aloud, the rogue bellowed, "You are such a fool!"

He was about to say more, but he never got the chance.

Standing up behind him in the tall grass was a beautiful woman with flowing auburn hair. Twisted around her fists and stretched taut was a length of Hig's makeshift pack. Moving with surprising speed and agility, she ensnared the rogue's neck in the length of skin, and gave a vicious yank.

With even greater speed and strength, the rogue dropped his knife and reached behind his head, grasping Lurde's wrists and pulling them forward. In one fluid movement, he bent forward at the waist while simultaneously swinging his arms out in front of him, arcing outward and downward. Lurde's lithe form was no match for his brawn.

With ease, he flipped her over his back and into the air, the rotting skin she was using for a garrote easily snapping from the force.

She landed in a heap across the splayed legs of the dead rogue, the blow knocking the wind out of her. But even worse than the impact of the ground against her back, was the knowledge that she had failed. Now, instead of just Hig being captured or killed, they would both share the same fate. Because of her foolishness, there would be no one to tell her remaining tribe members what had become of their captured friends and families.

What she didn't know, and couldn't possibly have seen from her vantage point behind the tall rogue, was that Hig found the correct motivation to let go of the long-knife. When it was just his life at stake, he couldn't do it. But when Lurde's life was suddenly thrown into the mix, he acted without hesitation.

While Lurde was sailing through the air in one direction, Hig was scrambling across the ground in the opposite, his eyes glued to the fallen knife. When the rogue straightened up, he was still facing the same direction; the corpse with the long-knife wedged in its back and Lurde sprawled on her back across its splayed legs.

Immediately, he realized that he'd underestimated his enemy. He never expected a frail old man like Hig to think so quickly, or to move even faster. Even as the realization of his mistake sank in, Hig was driving the point home; the small blade felt familiar in his hands, sliding through flesh and tendons with ease. Through flesh, lungs, and into the heart, until the hilt was pressed against the warm brown skin of the rogue's back.

With a tug, Hig pulled the weapon from the dead rogue's body, a spray of blood and air spewed forth from the collapsing lung. Quickly stepping aside, he let the body collapse onto the tall grass behind him. Immediately, he ran to Lurde and knelt by her side. She was gasping for air and struggling to breathe, but she was alive and would be all right.

Upon seeing Hig kneeling over her, she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck, gently pulling him nearer to her.

Soothingly, he said, "It's all right. It's all right."

When her breathing normalized, he helped her to a sitting position. "Stay low," he softly ordered. "They must have supplies near at hand, and I want to make sure no one saw the commotion."

"Give me the knife before you go," she suddenly asked of him. "I'll need it to cut your long-knife free."

In the heat of the moment, he had all but forgotten about his prized long-knife; nothing had mattered but Lurde's safety. Now that she mentioned it, he suddenly realized how naked he felt without it.

Handing her the short-bladed weapon, he hastily replied, "I'll be right back."

Before he left, though, he quickly stripped the sheath from the dead rogue and threw it back to Lurde. "Here," he whispered loudly. "You keep the knife."

Catching the sheath in mid-air, she answered his gesture of trust by simply smiling back at him. It was answer enough.

Moving quickly through the slender reeds, Hig headed in the direction of the rogue's main embodiment. He hadn't gone far, when he came across several more small groups of men. Some of the groups included captives, faces that he recognized. Although he couldn't be sure, it looked as if they were already being trained to work in the capacity of slaves. Because the rogues felt so confident in the security of the area, the captives weren't tied or restricted in any manner.

Or so he mistakenly assumed. Farther to the northwest, several captives were tied spread eagle on the ground, their faces and bodies bearing the bruises and cuts of their punishment. Soon, the reflected sunlight would finish what their tormentors had started. These were the unfortunate few that had resisted, and were being used as examples to discourage future escape attempts or disobedience. Of these few, all but one were men. And if the truth were known, none of the captives but one had done anything that they'd been accused of; it was merely an excuse for the sadistic rogues to have some entertainment.

The woman staked to the ground, on the other hand, had done everything she was being accused of having done. If her timing had been just a mere second better, the leader of the pale warriors would be dead, instead of taking his pleasure with all the women captives.

Confident that he'd seen enough, Hig turned back and made a quick search of the area immediately surrounding their battle scene. He had only veered a few steps from his path when he stumbled across the rogue's stash. Included in it was a small amount of dried meat and a half filled flagon. His spirits bolstered by the find, he hurried back to Lurde.

She looked up and smiled with relief when she saw him coming. To Hig's delight, she had freed the long-knife and cleaned the blood from the shiny steel blade. He also noticed that she had secured the short-knife to her waist.

Setting the flagon and package of food in front of her, he breathlessly said, "The prisoners are free to move about as they please."

While tying the flagon to her waist with the already empty one, she excitedly whispered, "Then we just have to let them know somehow that we're here for them, and they can follow us back."

Trying not to dampen her spirits, he calmly stated, "I'm afraid it might be a little harder than that."

"Why? What did you see that you're not telling me?" she nervously queried of him.

"First off, they're not being kept separate. If we show ourselves to your friends, the rogues are just as liable to see us."

"There must be something we can do."

While they sat silently pondering the situation, Hig admired her cleaning of the long-knife. "You did well removing the blood from it," it said approvingly.

Her eyes suddenly lit up as she remembered something important. "I meant to tell you," she started excitedly. "This grass," she bent a blade toward him for clarity as she spoke, "isn't quite what it appears."

Taking hold of the blade, he looked at in confusion for a moment before asking, "What do you mean?"

Handing him the short-knife, she said, "Cut me off a piece."

Unhesitatingly, he took the knife from her and folded the reed over the edge of the blade while drawing the knife toward him. It should have severed the reed with ease. Instead, as he continued to draw the blade across it, he could almost feel it eating the edge from the weapon. Surprised, he felt the edge of the blade with his left thumb; it was dull and blunted.

Remembering how easily it had penetrated the rogue's back, he knew immediately that he'd just dulled it on the reed.

Turning the reed over, he was further surprised by the complete lack of scarring. Although the edge was gone from the knife, the reed showed almost no damage!

"It's amazing," she whispered excitedly, while he looked on in bewilderment.

Almost in a panic, he pulled the long-knife across his lap and ran his left thumb along its edge.

"Don't worry," soothed Lurde. "I was very careful when I cleaned it." Then, almost apologetically, she sighed, "It is the short-knife that I lost the edge to before I realized the inherent danger."

Relieved, he slid the long-knife back into its sheath. Then, after making a quick visual scan in all directions, he helped Lurde to her feet. "We will scout the boundaries of their encampment. It's possible they're still on the move and this is just a temporary delay so they can enjoy some of their spoils."

Lurde shot him a reproving look, and he immediately wished that he'd worded his remark a little more delicately. Like him, Lurde knew that many of the captives were women. And like him, she was aware of the status her female friends were subject to as captives.

"Stay close to me and keep your head down," he gruffly responded, turning away from her.

They had gone less than ten steps, when a raucous broke out in the rogue's camp. Startled by the sudden eruption, Hig froze in his tracks. Before Lurde could react, he spun around and, grabbing her arm, yanked her roughly to the ground.

"What's going on," she quietly demanded of him.

Without a word, he turned back and met her gaze with a look that immediately silenced any further questioning on her part. Then, turning back to face the encampment, he breathed a sigh of relief; the rogues were breaking camp and herding their captives together. They were on the move again.

Turning back to face Lurde, Hig softly whispered, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so rough with you."

"It's all right," she whispered back. "I was just scared. I thought we'd been found out."

"Yes, me too," he humbly replied. Then, almost brusquely, he said, "Come. While they are moving, we will have a better view of them. Plus, they might send someone back here to relieve the rear guards."

Veering off to the north, Hig moved quickly through the tall grass. Only occasionally did he look back over his shoulder to check on Lurde. He was glad that she had recovered so quickly from her dehydration. Once again, she was strong and vibrant. She moved quietly through the grass, easily keeping pace with him.

When they'd gone almost a quarter of a mile, Hig came to a halt and surveyed the area almost due south of them. As he suspected, a lone man was moving toward the southeast. But what he didn't expect was that he would recognize the man!

"Lurde, look!"

Following his lead, Lurde looked in the same direction. Hig heard her gasp, and knew immediately that he hadn't been mistaken; the man heading southeast wasn't a rogue, but rather, he was one of Lurde's relatives!

"Hurry, we must reach him before he can turn back to the group!"

Breaking into a run with Lurde close on his heels, Hig made straight for the spot where they'd left the dead rogues. If Lurde's cousin found the corpses, he might decide to make a run for it. If he did that, there was a strong possibility that more rogues would come after him. They needed to get to him before he did something stupid!

Of course, once he explained the plan that was formulating in his mind, she might just decide that he was stupid! Until they caught up with the rogues, he had always felt certain that something would present itself in the way of a plan. He half expected that something would happen, making a plan of action blaringly obvious.

But after overtaking the two rear guards, he'd found himself at a complete loss as to what they should do next. Before the rogues began breaking camp, the best he could come up with was learning more about their strengths and weaknesses. Now, he was actually devising a plan of action, and not just going with the flow of events!

His plan was going to be risky, crazy, and not well thought out. Yet, it was profoundly better than the alternative.

### **7**

With his eye fixed to the spot where the two corpses lay, Hig and Lurde drove themselves forward through the tall reeds. Though the grassy reeds slapped ruthlessly against their shins, they were pliable enough to give way without lacerating their flesh.

Momentarily, Hig took his eyes from their destination and fearfully peered to the right, in the direction of the encampment. Although no one was paying them any mind, they were clearly visible. He couldn't believe their luck. If the rogues sighted them now, they would have little choice but to make a retreat for the safety of the jungle. In the poor physical condition that they currently found themselves, they would have an equally poor chance at reaching the western boundary.

It would have been an easy matter of calling out to her cousin to get his attention, but he was afraid of attracting more than just the attention of her cousin. They were taking a tremendous risk already, just running out in the open.

Their only hope lay in overtaking him, or for him to turn in their direction and see them. But would he even recognize them for who they were if he did see them.

In an anxious state of mind, her cousin failed to notice them approaching from the left. Even at their present hectic pace, he would reach the bodies well ahead of Hig and Lurde.

With this thought in mind, Hig suddenly began to worry that her cousin, finding the dead rogues, might decide to take advantage of his good fortune and bolt for the jungle, and his freedom. If he did that, they wouldn't have any choice but to let him go. If they chose to follow him, they might possibly spend days looking for him, while the rogues continued increasing the distance between them.

Although the rogues were still following a northwesterly route, eventually they would have to taper westward. To venture much farther north eventually meant encountering temperatures that were simply too high to support human life.

Despite the sweat pouring into his eyes, Hig saw the exact moment when her cousin discovered the slain guards' bodies; the stiff jerk that traveled through his entire frame said it all. Yet, instead of bolting toward the inviting green of the distant jungle, and the apparent safety that it promised, he dropped to his knees. With just his head visible above the surrounding reeds, he surveyed the area around him. In a fraction of a second, he had assessed the information, and come to the conclusion that he had friends nearby.

It took him but a moment longer to see the approaching figures of Hig and Lurde. Recognition quickly followed, and a broad smile suddenly lit up his face. Feeling confident that he was safe, he rose to his full height. Hig immediately wondered at how long his relief would last once he realized that it was only his cousin Lurde accompanied by a frail old man that had come to his rescue.

As they drew close, the man's expression suddenly changed. He'd recognized the long-knife strapped to Hig's hip and began to suspect the worst.

Both Hig and Lurde were too out of breath to speak, and yet, as they stepped toward her cousin, he slowly backed away, clearly wondering if he had done the right thing by staying where he was.

Finally, Lurde was able to gasp, "It's okay, Khan."

While she paused to take another breath before continuing, he visibly relaxed. Yet, he kept enough distance between them so that he was afforded a head start if either of them tried anything.

Following his eyes, she could see that he was looking suspiciously at Hig. In an effort to further allay his distrust, she added, indicating Hig, "He saved my life, and now he's here to save theirs," she finished with a wave toward the retreating figures of their fellow tribe members.

With a nod toward the long-knife, he warily asked of Lurde, "Where'd he get that?"

"From the rogue that tried to kill me," she flatly stated, suddenly having grown weary of trying to impress Hig's noble intentions on him.

As she turned away from him to look in the direction of the rogue's camp, he startled her by saying, "Only the pale warriors carry such weapons."

Before Lurde could answer, Hig piped up, "Yes, that's right, and I'm not very pale, am I?"

With growing respect for the frail looking man that stood before him, Khan said with undisguised awe in his voice, "None of the pale warriors were killed during their attack on our tribe, it's as if they are superhuman!"

"No, they aren't," Hig softly refuted. "They die the same as you and I. Their skin is pale, but their blood still runs red."

Khan glanced nervously toward the departing encampment, a visible shudder surging through his body. With a hint of resignation in his voice, he calmly stated, "They may die the same as you and I, but they show no fear of death. None!"

Hig was aware that Khan had just been through a traumatic series of events, and readily assumed that his perception of his captors was skewed by everything he'd suffered. Rather than upset him anymore than he already was, he silently decided that it would be better for everyone concerned if he let Khan believe what he wanted to believe. In time, if things worked out for them, Khan would have ample opportunity to see that even the pale warriors died.

Lurde interrupted their conversation, such as it was, with a hurried whisper, almost eagerly suggesting that they should leave the immediate area. "We've taken too many chances already," she quickly added.

"You've been seen," concluded Khan, almost casually.

At the look of surprise on Lurde's face, Khan swiftly finished, "Only the rogues and the pale warriors aren't aware of your presence here." He paused a moment, then added, "But that could change at any time." Turning toward Hig, he saw the questioning look in the eyes that looked back at him, and suddenly felt compelled to explain, "Not everyone will keep their tongue from wagging. There are some that will sell us out if they think it might win them a little favor with their captors, the animals," he spat, unable to hide his disgust for both the captors and the traitors that were once their friends and fellow tribe members.

"They would never do such a thing!" declared Lurde emphatically.

Hig had already decided that rather than remain where they were and risk being discovered, regardless of the loyalty of their fellow tribe members, they needed to get moving. The rear members of the encampment were already over the rise and dropping beyond their sight.

With no relief from the moonglow, their skin was turning a bright shade of pink over their naturally brown hue. Yet, even more pressing was their need for water.

"Come," he flatly stated, starting off toward the north by northwest. "We can talk along the way."

Lurde automatically fell in behind him, but Khan remained where he stood, unmoving. Hig and Lurde had gone less than twenty feet when Hig noticed that Khan wasn't following them. Ready for the confrontation that he knew was inevitable, Hig turned back to face him, Lurde anxiously looking on. Like Hig, she knew that Khan wasn't ready to trust an outsider. In fact, he already admitted that he didn't trust each of his fellow tribe members, why should they expect him to trust Hig.

Before Hig could voice his question, Khan asked, "Why aren't you following them?" indicating the direction that the rogues had gone. "You're direction will take us even farther north than we need to go. Are you trying to kill us?"

"No," he softly replied, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of the long-knife for assurance. Slowly, he retraced his steps, cutting the distance that separated them until he stood less than three feet from the tall young man. Meeting Khan's gaze, he calmly stated, "We are going to travel parallel to them, but on their right flank. It is only natural that they will keep lookouts posted to the south. They will never expect anything from the north."

Khan started to protest, but Hig ignored him, continuing on in the same tone of voice, "We need water. Look around, Khan. Do you see any water?" Khan's eyes never wavered from Hig's, yet he held his peace, and waited for Hig to continue. "The only source of water this far from the trail is with them."

This time Khan's eyes followed Hig's gesture, and a brief hint of resignation glinted behind their brown opaqueness.

Hig continued with renewed enthusiasm. "We'll remain out of their sight, and wait for them to rest. When they do, they'll post guards on their southern and rear flanks. We'll breach their perimeter from the north."

Khan's eyes lit up with the excitement of forthcoming action. What Hig was plotting for their future was much more to his liking than he could possibly have anticipated. In addition, along with his change of disposition came a change of opinion. Just moments earlier, he had looked upon Hig as nothing more than a frail old man. Now, he saw him as a cunning, and possibly dangerous, ally. Hig suddenly believed that if he could continue to influence Khan, he might also be able to teach him to respect others before categorizing people based upon shallow, inflexible notions derived from first impressions that are based solely upon preconceived notions.

"I owe you an apology," he hesitantly started, suddenly unable to maintain eye.

Gruffly, cutting him off, Hig said, "We've wasted enough time already. The farther ahead they get, the harder it will be for us to overtake them."

"No, wait," Lurde suddenly blurted, speaking up for the first time. With all eyes turned on her, she visible stiffened her back, and after taking a deep breath, said, "If Khan is willing to make you an apology, the least you can do is hear him out."

Hig's eyes remained focused on her, trying to penetrate the reasoning behind the comment. Almost humbly, but with an unmistakable glint of sarcasm in the corner of his eye, Khan said, "It would behoove us to argue with such a strong-willed, and might I add, beautiful woman." Unable to contain the smirk that crept in from the corners of his mouth, he quickly added, "We would be but stupid fools to even try."

Lurde's face turned a brighter shade of red because of her cousin's flattery, while Hig silently bristled. Though he was well aware of the fact that Khan was Lurde's cousin, he couldn't ignore the twang of jealousy he felt by her reaction to Khan's flattering remarks.

Through the burning in his ears, he listened half-heartedly to Khan's apology, only fully comprehending his final words.

"...So I hope you'll understand why I found it hard to believe that you could possess such a remarkable weapon." He paused for a moment, taking the time to clear his throat before finishing with, "If you allow me, I would be honored to accompany you on this journey that you've so painstakingly mapped out for yourselves."

In essence, he was relinquishing any thought of usurping Hig as the leader of their small group.

It was Hig's turn to be flattered, while at the same time relieved. Although he hadn't viewed Khan as a burden, neither had he seen him as an ally to use in his plans to free the rogue's captives. Things were definitely looking up.

After swallowing down the lump in his throat, Hig grunted his thanks. He wasn't used to people treating him so deferentially, and he wasn't sure exactly how to respond. However, judging by the smile that Lurde gave him, he allowed himself to believe that he hadn't handled it too terribly.

"We must be going."

"Wait."

It was Lurde, and she was holding something out to Khan. "Here," she said softly. "I want you to have this. If we run into trouble, you would put it to better use than I."

Her gesture took both Hig and Khan by surprise. In her outstretched palm lay the sheathed weapon from the dead rogue, the short-bladed knife.

Almost as though he were afraid to touch it, Khan gingerly took the weapon from her. In awe of her gesture, he slowly secured the sheath to his hip. Only then, did he remove the knife and examine the blade. Because of his life-long experience with knives, Khan immediately recognized the dulled and blunted edge. Furthermore, the puzzled look on his face proved that he was aware of the fine quality of the steel used to fabricate it.

"What happened to it?" he finally asked, his tone indicating that someone had done the damage through neglect.

"It's the reeds," answered Hig, almost as if he were taking the blame. "If you try cutting them, they will take the edge off the finest steel." Then, sounding impatient, he added, "Now that you know it's dull, use it accordingly; it will still kill."

"Yes, it will," he acknowledged.

Without any further words, Hig turned and started off through the reeds. Behind him, he heard Khan whispering his thanks to Lurde. This was followed immediately by the soft sounds of their feet on the thin covering of ground as they fell into step with him.

They weren't in the dense vegetation of the jungle. It wasn't necessary to follow behind one another. Walking abreast through the sparse growth of reeds, they were able to talk without any trouble. However, because of the swift pace Hig forced upon them, they kept conversation to a minimum, preferring to save their breath for the trek.

They kept on in the same direction for nearly two hours before Hig gradually veered more westerly. He was concerned that they would be too far north of the rogues to easily drop back down on them. While at the same time, he didn't want to inadvertently overtake them. Since the rogues were traveling toward the northwest also, if they weren't careful, their paths could intersect, precipitating an unexpected confrontation that could only end in tragedy.

In addition, he didn't desire for them to stumble across any more desecrated bodies then they'd already had. Although they continued on past the last ones they came across in silence, the sight of their dead friends staked out on the ground, in addition to the manner in which their bodies had been mutilated, left them feeling disheartened and more nauseas than they already were.

"Do you think we have traveled far enough to the north?" Khan finally asked. Though he was genuinely sincere, he came across sounding sarcastic.

Defensively, Hig said, "I can only guess at their position in relation to ours. We will just have to remain alert to the possibility that I could be wrong."

With a smirk, he asked Lurde, "Is he ever wrong?"

"That's not called for!" she emphatically shot back. And then to make her point clear, she quickly added, "By either of you!"

After an awkward moment of silence, Khan was the first to speak. "I'm sorry, Hig, if I sounded glib," he said hesitantly. "I really am sincere about our position with regard to the rogues."

Rather than acknowledge his response, or risk more of Lurde's hostility, Hig turned to the west and started walking. The others hurriedly caught up to him, but only silence ensued. They continued on, each wrapped in their individual blanket of silence for another two hours.

Confident that he'd made his point, Hig finally suggested that they stop and rest for a moment. No one argued. Although they didn't have any water, if felt good just to sit down and catch their collective breaths.

After a moment, Khan said, "We must be close to them by now."

Although Hig couldn't bring himself to openly agree with Khan, he respected his opinion, if for no other reason than Khan's experience of having previously traveled with the rogues.

When Hig didn't acknowledge him, he continued, "They will probably take their own rest break in another four hours, if they hold true to their previous routine."

Almost stoically, Hig responded, "Then we have a long journey ahead of us."

"Just four more hours," offered Lurde, her voice suddenly sounding tired at the prospect.

"No, I'm afraid it'll be longer than that," replied Hig apologetically. "In four hours, we turn south and slip into their camp. We don't have any other choice, we need water."

"How far north of them do you reckon we are?"

"Hopefully less than an hour, and more than a quarter," Hig replied as he stiffly got to his feet.

He was an old man. Despite the amorous feelings of youth Lurde was capable of inspiring in him, he was still an old man. And as he stepped off toward the west, every joint and tendon in his body eagerly reminded him.

For the first time since joining up with them, Khan hung back and let Lurde have a moment of semi-quasi privacy with him.

"Have you thought of how we're going to slip into the rogue's camp, since there isn't anything out here to hide behind?" she tentatively asked of him.

"We'll have to wait and see what the lay of the land looks like and what Khan can tell us of their routines. I'm sure I'll think of something when the time comes," he answered her, sounding much more confident than he felt.

She looked at his face, searching his eyes for encouragement. Although she wanted to ask more of him, she was afraid of the answers he might give her, or rather, the lack there of.

They continued on in silence for the next two hours. They were still two hours away from their turning point, but all three of them were suffering severely from the exposure to the bright light and high temperatures. Although a supply of water would have staved off the immediate effects of dehydration, it couldn't waylay the inevitable. None of them was conditioned for such extremes of heat and exposure.

"We stop now," rasped Hig, his throat parched from breathing the dry air.

Lurde and Khan dropped to the ground, only barely breaking their falls. Hig slowly lowered himself after taking a quick look around. He had never been this far from the main trail before. And although he had never heard of any wild beasts this far from the jungle, he harbored a healthy fear of the unknown. It had been less than a day since leaving the security of the dense green vegetation, and already he couldn't wait to get back to it. Compared to this, the jungle offered cool shade and plenty of water.

While Khan rolled over onto his back and laid a brawny arm across his face to protect his eyes from the relatively bright light, Lurde remained face down, her breath stirring up the dust around her face.

Hig suddenly had an idea. Their bodies were covered with sweat, a sign that they were still functioning.

With his right hand, he rubbed the sparse ground occupying the space between the upright stems of the reeds. It was powdery dry, little more than a thick layer of dust. But even more importantly, it was almost identical in color to the rusty golden reeds.

"Lurde, Khan, I have an idea," he rasped, barely audible.

Both heads turned to look at him. Lurde's lips were swollen and speckled with dried blood. The dust had caked to the side of her face where it had lain on the ground. Almost unconsciously, Hig wiped the back of his hand across his mouth; it came away smeared with crimson mud.

"We need to cover each other with dust," he managed to rasp, the dry air burning in his lungs.

Without waiting for them to comprehend what he meant, he worked his way closer to Lurde and started scraping up handfuls of the powdery dust and patting it against her moist skin. It mixed with her sweat and stuck like paste. Khan, looking on, grasped the meaning of Hig's intent and started on his own body.

With renewed vigor, Hig scooped up dust by the handfuls and slowly worked it over Lurde's shapely form. When he reached the area between her thighs, all inhibitions left him; this was a matter of survival, there wasn't time for vanity.

When he finished with her, she started on him. Despite the oppressive heat and his lack of energy, his body was helpless beneath her caressing touch. Even before her hands drew close to his manhood, he was sporting an erection.

Upon seeing the desire that she'd aroused in him, she gathered what little saliva she could, and spit on the end of his penis. Looking down, a small groan escaped his lips; she could not afford to waste such a precious commodity.

Sensing his concern, she flatly stated, while continuing to pat dust over his shrinking genitalia, "It needed doing."

She hurriedly flung more dust at him, carefully avoiding anymore contact with her hands until she was well away from his groin area. Then, satisfied that they were completely covered, they finished the areas on Khan's body that he was unable to reach of his own accord.

Stepping back, they faced each other as though it were the first time they'd met. From their hair to their feet, they were a rusty golden hue; they blended beautifully into the landscape, all but disappearing before each other's eyes.

"This dust must be the result of dead reeds," said Khan, still awed by their appearances. "Although I can see you plain enough standing right in front of me, if I didn't know you were there, I would look right through you."

"I feel much cooler, too," added Lurde.

"Then it's time that we get moving," suggested Hig, all sensual desire having abandoned him at the sight of a dust-caked woman.

Although they moved much slower than they had prior, Hig was satisfied with their progress. To some extent, he was surprised that they were doing as well as they were, considering their growing thirst and the extreme heat. Fatigue and dehydration would be taking its toll on them very soon if they didn't find shade and water. He also patted himself on the back for thinking of using the cloying dust for camouflage and protection from the moonglow, while their bodies were still able to perspire. Soon, their bodies would start shutting down from lack of water. Once that started happening, their bodies would become dry to the touch and the dust would no longer adhere to them.

And yet, if they had stopped and done it sooner, their perspiring bodies would simply have washed the dust off. As it were, what was on their bodies now would more than likely remain on their bodies until they took in a sufficient amount of fluids to start the perspiration process anew.

They were walking abreast, neither having the energy nor the inclination to scout ahead. Glancing down, Hig was surprised at how much of the dust remained glued to the fronts of his shins. Although it wasn't important, since their shins were lost below the height of the reeds, he took encouragement from it. Once they reached the rogue's encampment, they would have to crouch and crawl through the reeds in order to reach their friends, and the water, unseen. At that time, a lot of the dust could be rubbed off. However, even with the force of the reeds scraping across the fronts of their shins, their legs still faded into the background.

Slowly drawing to a halt, Hig simply stated, "We turn here." His voice was dry and raspy, barely audible, yet both Lurde and Khan turned to face the south before dropping to their knees.

They sat abreast, all of them facing in the same direction, none of them saying a word. They were exhausted. The heat and lack of water was slowly killing them. Soon, they would have to ask more of their bodies than they were capable of giving. If their bodies refused, they would die. If their bodies obeyed, they might still be killed by the rogues.

These thoughts were weighing heavily on their collective minds. Yet, they had no other options.

Of course, they could always surrender to the rogues and plead for mercy. For Khan, however, that was no longer an option. When he chose to escape, he gave up any chance of life among the rogues. If they captured him, he would be staked out on the ground and tortured until his ravaged body chose the bliss of death over the agony of carrying on.

After several minutes of silence, Lurde rasped, "How far do you reckon?"

No one doubted that she was referring to the distance they would have to travel before they reached the rogue encampment. And though that distance would feel great to them, regardless of its actuality, Hig couldn't bring himself to remind them that they would also have to exit it once they procured their friends or water or both.

His voice barely audible, he simply stated, "One half, maybe two."

He didn't have the strength, nor did he need to explain that he was referring to one half to two hour's travel time. They understood. And they both said a silent prayer that it was less.

After a short interval of time in which they all sat in silence, Khan rose to his feet. Looking down at the dejected forms of Lurde and Hig, he simply stated, "I'll scout ahead."

Not waiting for an answer, he set off toward the south. Hig noticed without surprise that there wasn't any spring in his step; he simply placed one foot in front of the other and moved forward.

When his head was just visible in the distance, Hig begrudgingly rose to his own feet. Turning, he held his hand out and helped Lurde to her feet. In silence, they set out after Khan.

Lurde suddenly reached out and grabbed his arm, preventing him from going any farther. At almost the same moment, he realized he had lost eye contact with Khan's head. One moment it had been there, hovering above the sea of reeds. The next it was gone.

Almost instinctively, he dropped to his knees, dragging Lurde down with him. Although he didn't immediately draw the long-knife from its sheath, his hand had gone to the hilt and was firmly grasping it.

"What's wrong?" Lurde whispered anxiously in his ear, her head slowly rising to see above the reeds.

"Stay down!" he hissed back at her.

Intimidated by the tone of his voice, she quickly dropped back onto her haunches and waited for him to explain.

Like he would a child, he kept his hand on her arm, assuring himself that she couldn't move without his knowledge of it. Then, cautiously, he raised his head above the sea of reeds and carefully scanned the area where he figured Khan should be.

With a start, his eyes flicked across, and then caught the movement of reeds as someone or something worked its way along a low ridge. Whatever, or whomever it was, they were staying low, trying hard to keep out of sight. He worriedly thought to himself that it had to be Khan; the rogues were too arrogant and confident of their position to bother with stealth.

But to be on the safe side, he consciously drew the long-knife.

His actions brought an immediate response from Lurde. Even before the weapon cleared the sheath, her hand grabbed his shoulder and clenched down, digging her fingers into the soft tissue that lay between the bones and muscles. She was making it clear that she wouldn't be denied again.

Without looking back, he whispered over his shoulder, "Khan's working his way back."

"Then he must have found their camp," she whispered, relaxing her grip.

Although his first reaction was to scold her for speaking, he bit his tongue, nodding in acknowledgement instead. To his relief, she didn't say anything more.

Within a matter of minutes, Khan rejoined them. Before he could speak, though, he hunkered down and took a minute to catch his breath. It almost hurt Hig physically to look at him. In the short time since they'd met, Khan appeared to have aged a millennium. His skin was a flaccid brown over a pasty white, and his eyes had sunk into his head, making him appear gaunt and shriveled. Furthermore, his breath rattled in his chest, and he sucked at the air as if he couldn't get enough.

Though he didn't voice it to Lurde and Khan, he thought to himself, "Our lungs are filling up with the damned dust from spending so much time with our faces near to the ground."

Aloud, he asked of Khan, "Did you see their camp?"

Khan quickly nodded in the affirmative. "Just over the horizon," he managed to rasp.

Despite the mounting sense of urgency Hig was feeling, he said, "When you feel up to it, tell us what you saw."

Instead of replying, Khan simply gave a single nod. He was almost done in, and it worried Hig immensely. Lurde and he weren't doing much better. But he was subconsciously counting on Khan's younger body and muscular physique, if for no other reason than it encouraged him, giving him reason to hope.

He was almost oblivious of the amount of time that had passed when Khan suddenly started speaking. "They're not giving their captives free run. They're keeping them close at hand." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. While he did, Hig wondered how they would ever manage to sneak into the rogue's camp and get back out without being observed.

Khan slowly continued, "I don't think they plan to stay there very long."

This last statement only made Hig more aware of the growing urgency within himself. Suddenly, he knew what he had to do.

Meeting Lurde's gaze, he simply stated, "You stay here with Khan, I'm going to go and get us some water."

After a furtive glance in the direction of the rogue's encampment, Hig rose to his feet and handed the long-knife to Lurde. "Here, hang on to this for me."

Much to his relief and disappointment, neither argued with him. Only when he turned to go did Khan stop him with a single word, "Here."

In his outstretched hand was the knife and sheath that Lurde had given him prior.

Reaching down, he took the proffered weapon. Before he could pull his hand back, Lurde laid her hand on his forearm, softly whispering, "Come back to me."

Suddenly choked up with emotions, he could only nod before hurriedly setting off through the reeds.

He hadn't gone far, when his eyes caught movement ahead. Crouching lower, he moved as stealthily as he could, raising his head only occasionally to check his progress and direction. Because he had lived his entire life moving in a westerly direction, to travel away from the equatorial trail left him feeling uneasy and slightly disoriented. He was sure that if he could figure it out, he could use these feelings to get and maintain his bearings. However, he wasn't sure he wanted to become that familiar with them.

When he was less than one hundred yards from the edge of their camp, he veered sharply to the west. He intended to approach them from the west, the direction they would least expect an intruder. If he had felt just a little less fatigued, he would have circled the entire camp before making his move. But in his present state of exhaustion, he couldn't afford to waste the time nor the energy.

He continued westward until he was certain that he was well ahead of the encampment. Then, just as he had abruptly turned toward the west, he turned south. His progress was slow and labored. In addition to his weakened physical condition that was rapidly deteriorating, he also had to maintain the utmost of stealth; until he found the opportunity to approach an individual apart from the rest, he couldn't afford to let neither the rogues nor Lurde's captive tribe members see him. Their reaction to his presence was too unpredictable.

As luck would have it, he quickly came upon a lone rogue that was squatting amongst the reeds relieving himself. Too weak to move with any speed, Hig stumbled forward, the knife held high above his head, ready to plunge downward. Yet, when he needed stealth, his feet betrayed him. Too weak to lift his feet properly, the man heard him shuffling toward him and started to rise, turning to face Hig as he did.

Surprise lit up the man's face at the sight of a frail old man coming toward him with a knife raised high above his head. Surprise quickly changed to anger at being disturbed while taking a break. Much to Hig's chagrin, the man never showed any sign of fear; he could only imagine how sorry he looked, covered in dust and gaunt from exhaustion.

The man casually reached for his own knife while watching Hig's approach. Then, almost as if he had a better thought, his hand strayed away from the hilt protruding over his hip, and reached out toward Hig, anticipating grabbing him by the hair instead. In the spur of the moment, the man decided that he could derive more sport from Hig by filleting him and staking him out on the ground then he could by simply killing him. He intended to share his windfall with his comrades.

Too tired and frustrated to stop himself, Hig lurched forward, fully realizing that the man intended on capturing him. In the fraction of second that it took for these thoughts to register in Hig's fatigue clouded mind, an inner anger rapidly boiled to the surface. For his entire life, he'd been saddled with a small build and stature. Only when he possessed the long-knife did he feel that he was the equal of other men.

With anger came renewed strength. Surprising even himself, he came to an abrupt stop, the strain taking its toll in his aching joints. But he was beyond feeling the pain. And he took even greater strength from the look of surprise that swiftly passed before the man's eyes. For just the briefest of moments, the man's confidence had been in question.

Wavering on his feet, Hig met the man's gaze, and felt his heart sink when the man's mouth opened, only to laugh mockingly in his face.

Now it was the man's turn to close the short distance that separated them. With his hand still outstretched, he turned it palm up, indicating that Hig should lay his weapon in it.

Before Hig could react, the man coaxed, "Come on old man, hand it over before you hurt yourself."

Feeling faint, Hig tried desperately to sort through the haze in his brain and determine what he could or should do. Too many people were relying on him. Would Leeta understand? Although he was sure she would forgive him for abandoning his search for her to do something as noble as rescue the captured tribe members, she would never understand or comprehend his giving up. He would die first!

He tried to tell the man before him that he would have to take it from him by force, but although his mouth moved, no sound came forth.

The man mistook his mute actions for fear, and laughingly bellowed, "Don't you dare croak before I get you back to camp."

He was about to take a step forward, when his actions were abruptly cut short. Stunned, Hig could only look on as he witnessed a long steel blade suddenly emerge from the man's chest.

Using his hands, the man pawed helplessly at the protrusion, his mind unable to comprehend the fact that his body was already dead. Then slowly, ever so slowly, he leaned forward. With his forward progress came a soft hissing sound. It took Hig a moment to recognize the sound; it was the man's body sliding back off the stationary blade. With uncanny grace, the dead corpse un-impaled itself, settling first to its knees, and then falling face-first to the ground. With a dull thud, it came to rest at Hig's feet. Standing directly behind the corpse, a bloody long-knife in her hand, stood Lurde.

As his gaze met hers, she immediately smiled back at him. In Hig's eyes, she had never looked more powerful than she did now. With her body covered in dust, her face gaunt from fatigue, and the long-knife held at the ready, she appeared very formidable, and very desirable.

Struggling to make his voice audible, he finally managed, "How?"

Lowering the long-knife till the tip of the blade rested on the ground before her, she slowly relaxed, allowing the bulk of her weight to rest on the hilt, her body leaning forward.

Hig, meanwhile, dropped to his knees. All pretense of strength having evaporated, leaving him even weaker than before. After resting a moment, Lurde worked her way past the corpse that lay between them, and then settled down next to him. She made no pretense of being careful with the weapon that meant so much to Hig; they were both too exhausted to care that she had dragged the tip along the ground with each drunken sway of her body, or that it needed cleaning before the blood baked to the steel surface, possibly leaving the edge dulled and unserviceable.

When they'd rested a moment longer, Hig swallowed dryly several times before rasping again, "How?"

Although Lurde was equally spent, she managed to reply, "How what?"

When Hig didn't attempt to extrapolate on her question, she continued with difficulty, "How did I find you? That was easy. After you left, Khan decided that it made more sense for him to approach their camp than you. If they hadn't realized that he'd been missing, he could move among them with impunity." She paused for a moment to give her throat a rest. After dry swallowing several times, she struggled on. "He was afraid, though, that you might create a problem if you were caught. He suggested that I try to cut you off. We both agreed that you would probably try to approach them from the west, so I headed straight here."

With a grunt, Hig indicated the dead man on the ground at their feet. Lurde immediately understood his question.

"I saw him moving toward you. At first, I thought they'd seen you, sending him to intercept you. When he suddenly stopped and dropped out of sight, I feared that he was waiting to ambush you." A smile turned up the corners of her mouth before she continued. "I hurried to catch up with him, but I couldn't make my legs move any faster."

She paused to catch her breath. "When I finally got here, he already had you at bay. I didn't know what else to do."

Forcing his voice to work, Hig rasped, "You did well. You saved my life. Thank you."

"Here," she said after a moment, offering him the long-knife.

Taking the weapon from her, he jerkily forced it into the sheath. Then, after taking a deep breath to steady his shaking hands, he retied it around his waist. Although he wasn't sure what he expected, he found himself disappointed by the lack of strength that he was able to draw from it.

While he contemplated his mixed emotions regarding the weapon, Lurde leaned forward and pulled the dead man's sheath from his waist. Her voice barely above a whisper, she grumbled, "Too bad he wasn't carrying a flagon of water on him." After strapping the sheath to her own waist, she retrieved the man's fallen weapon from where it lay on the ground. With the same disregard that she'd shown the long-knife, she slid it into the sheath.

Leaning back until she landed firmly on her buttocks, she sat in silence beside Hig, neither of them wanting to strain their throats any more than they already had.

After a long silence, Hig finally determined that they couldn't just sit in one place forever. Although it pained him immensely to suggest it, both because it hurt his throat to speak, and because his body protested his efforts to move by sending signals of pain to his brain, he turned toward Lurde and said, "We must get moving."

"No."

Though he didn't want to argue with her, what was left of his reasoning dictated that they needed to put as much distance between themselves and the corpse as possible. At any time, someone might miss him and come looking for him; he couldn't count on being so lucky a second time around.

So why did Lurde just say no?

"Do you have a better idea?" he managed to croak, his voice sounder much harsher than he intended.

"We wait here for Khan. He's expecting to find us here. Plus, he'll be bringing water. Without water, we won't get very far."

She was right. Whether they waited for Khan and risked discovery, or tried to find water on their own, their chances were bleak. Oh, how he missed the cooler sanctuary of the jungle!

They sat in silence, both too weak to initiate their inner thoughts into audible words. And though he thought about the blood drying on the long-knife, he lacked the strength and desire to do anything about it. Instead, his thoughts turned to Lurde, the woman that sat silently beside him.

Without understanding the origin of his conscious stream of thought, he suddenly realized that he was chastising himself for allowing her to come with him on this dangerous journey. For reasons he couldn't contemplate, he felt acutely responsible for her dire situation. And yet, he knew that he was the one that had come along with her, and not the other way around. His thoughts were muddled and confused by the growing effects of dehydration. It had been much too long since his body had exuded any semblance of perspiration, and even longer before that, he couldn't remember his throat feeling raw from the dust and heat. It didn't help that his head was pounding in rhythm to the beating of his heart.

After an interminable length of time had passed, Hig suddenly roused from his stupor and glanced over at Lurde. Even in her present condition, she was a beautiful woman. Moreover, in spite of it all, she held herself with dignity. And though he wasn't sure where the thought had originated from, he found himself wondering how he had let himself believe that he could possible deserve such a woman, even when he knew that she wasn't his. At least, not in the eyes of their kin, she wasn't. He was aware that they shared something special between them. But until he knew what had become of his Leeta that was all they could share. For the moment, it was more than enough, more than he deserved.

"Khan may not come back," he rasped, sounding even worse than his throat felt.

Startled, she looked over at him. Hazily, Hig realized that he'd interrupted a very serious thought process that she was struggling with in her mind. However, despite his sudden interest, instead of wasting energy questioning her, he waited for her to explain.

He didn't have to wait long.

With a determination born of long consideration, she slowly rose to her feet and drew the dead man's knife. Her feet dragging, she stiffly made her way to the man's head. Against protesting joints and sinews, she knelt down next to the corpse and gently pushed his head to the side, revealing the main artery that coursed up the side of his neck.

Fighting his revulsion at the realization of her intent, Hig leaned forward and crawled toward her, stationing himself on the opposite side of the corpse from her. In the time it took him to cover the two or so feet, she had laid the blade across the corpses neck and severed the vein in two places, less than an inch apart. With shaking hands, she stabbed the tip into the tender flesh between the two slice marks and filleted out a chunk of bloody flesh. Hig knew her hands weren't shaking from fatigue and exhaustion; they were shaking from the same feelings that forced him to fight back the burning bile rising in his throat.

"It's this or die," she flatly stated, her own determination waning.

Fighting down his nausea, he accepted the proffered piece and gingerly placed it on his swollen tongue. With much distaste for what they were doing, he forced himself to swallow.

Meanwhile, not paying him any heed, Lurde leaned over the corpse and placed her dried and cracked lips over the bloody wound she'd inflicted upon its neck. With a reluctance that slowly evolved into a growing fervor, she sucked out an opulent flow of liquid. It was warm, thick, and tangy. And in their moment of need, it was the staff of life. With each swallow, she could feel her strength returning.

Hig, repulsed by the sight of her drinking so feverishly, put a hand on her shoulder to get her attention. She paused, and then slowly raised her head. The sight of her made him involuntarily gasp as he choked on the moist flesh within his mouth.

Turning his head to the side, he spit the gross chunk of flesh into the surrounding reeds. When he looked back at her, the madness he saw in her eyes sent a cold chill down his spine, which only added to the barbaric nature of the act. He suddenly found himself wondering if he really knew this dust-splattered, blood drenched woman.

As the realization of her actions registered in her mind, her eyes grew soft. With her returning sanity came the abhorrence and disgust. She could feel the bile rising in her throat and turned away from Hig.

But before she could vomit, Hig's words caused her hesitation. "No!" he croaked, blood and spittle hanging from his lower lip. Reaching over the corpse and gripping her by the shoulders, he looked into her eyes and pleaded with her, "You must keep it in you. It's the nourishment we need to survive."

She knew he was right. She had to fight the distaste and revulsion; she had to let the crimson elixir permeate her body if she intended to live. And she had to live; others were depending on her.

With a nod of her head, she steeled herself both mentally and physically, and slowly felt her body relax. Almost immediately, she felt better.

Fighting his own demons, Hig leaned over the corpse and placed his lips where Lurde had hers just moments before. To his astonishment, the wound gave forth with little coaxing. He wondered to himself if they would have been as fortunate if they had waited longer.

He used this new train of thought to divert his conscious mind from the abhorrent act that he was committing. Chastising himself for not having been the one to consider the corpse's life giving qualities, he found it easier to partake of the salty elixir of life. In a twisted sort of way, he viewed it as his punishment for letting them down.

Sucking savagely at the wound, he lost himself in the moment. Only when Lurde placed her hand on his shoulder did he remember where he was. And then it was with a grim satisfaction that he realized the act was over, the wound depleted of its life-giving qualities, and the artery collapsed from his savage efforts.

He felt better almost immediately. And when he looked up at Lurde, he could see a vast improvement in her, also. Meeting his gaze, she instantly smiled back, her teeth stained a crimson red. He grinned back in response, hiding his teeth behind his swollen lips to spare her his own hideous expression.

After swallowing several times to remove the lump that had collected in the back of his throat, he managed to say, "We will rest here a while longer so that Khan can find us. Once we are up to it, though, we will continue forward as we had planned."

Staring off in the direction of the rogue's encampment, Lurde silently nodded her acknowledgement. They could only wait for so long, and then they would have to take action. Although they were feeling a thousand percent better after getting past the initial revulsion, due to the extreme heat, they both realized that their newfound strength would be short-lived. Yet, they had to wait on Khan, and any information that he might have gleaned from their captive friends before they could devise a plan of action. Up until this point, they had done nothing more than look for moments of opportunity, which had been few and far between.

The plan that Hig had fancied for them was little more than making the most of the fact that their friends' captors weren't aware of their presence. Although he realized it was a weak plan of action, Lurde hadn't come up with anything better. She also hadn't pressed him about it, a small mercy that he greatly appreciated. If he had been thinking with a clearer mind, he would have known that she didn't hound him for details, because she knew he couldn't supply her with any.

As Lurde continued to stare across the terrain, Hig swallowed obsessively, ineffectively trying to move the lump that clung stubbornly to the back of his throat.

Just when he thought he was making progress, Lurde jumped to her feet and whispered, "Here he comes."

After rising stiffly to his own feet, Hig noticed immediately that Khan was carrying a flagon in his right hand. The next thing he took note of was the slight bounce in his step.

With relief, Hig also noted that he wasn't being followed; at least not obviously. It still amazed Hig that the rogues felt so confident that their captives wouldn't try to escape. And yet, all he had to do was look around at their surroundings to understand why.

Watching as Khan drew nearer, he was suddenly aware of the fact that he was licking his lips. Glancing self-consciously at Lurde, he realized immediately by the look of longing on her face that her thoughts, like his, were focusing on the flagon Khan carried.

Almost afraid to say something for fear that he would jinx the moment, he hesitantly uttered, "Come."

As one, they started toward Khan, and the flagon that he brandished in his right hand. All the signs indicated that he was bringing them water and good news. But after everything they'd been through, they were afraid to let themselves believe; neither was sure they could withstand the disappointment if they were wrong.

When they were less than fifty-feet apart, Khan broke the silence. "Look!" he said excitedly, being careful to keep his voice under control, while displaying the flagon in front of him.

His concern for quietude was indication enough for Lurde and Hig to refrain from celebrating. Yet, they were brimming with longing and excitement at the mere thought of drinking water again. The lump that clung so stubbornly in the back of Hig's throat would wash down easily with a simple swig of water, and it was just a few feet from them, only brief moments before he felt the relief. The anticipation was almost unbearable.

They reached Khan at the same time, and after making a split second decision based on their appearances, Khan handed the flagon to Hig. He was clearly in more desperate need of immediate sustenance than Lurde. But after taking the proffered flagon and removing the stopper, Hig tipped it up and then directed the spout to Lurde's lips. It was a gallant and noble gesture on his part; a gesture that only made the anticipation more acute.

As he watched her throat muscles flexing and relaxing, working the warm fluid down, he could almost smell the freshness of the water as it trickled down the sides of her chin, mixing with the dried blood and caked on dust.

Khan suddenly yanked the flagon from her, fearful that she would drink too much too soon and make herself sick. When he realized that Hig wasn't about to relinquish his hold on the flagon, he released it to him. Meanwhile, her eyes closed in ecstasy, Lurde worked her swollen tongue around the course of her cracked lips, relishing the sensation of moistness, whether real or imagined.

With the flagon held firmly in his grasp, Hig put the opening to his lips, and felt the soothing liquid splash vibrantly into his mouth. Even before he swallowed, he felt like a new man. The water instantly revitalized his sagging spirit, replenishing his optimism. He derived all the subtle pleasures comparable to cumming with a beautiful woman. In his long life, he couldn't remember ever feeling this good.

Hig was lost in the moment, his mind numb to the harsh realities of their immediate situation when Khan roughly pulled the flagon from his grasp, bringing him abruptly and roughly back to their reality. Like Lurde, he too was prone to over drink. And like the rest of the population on Heälf, he was well aware of the fact that the worst thing that could happen to a body in the throes of dehydration was to vomit up the precious liquid that you so desperately needed.

"You can have more after we rest," Khan said authoritatively to the both of them. "Now sit and I will tell you what I've learned."

Reluctantly, they lowered themselves to the ground, their foremost thought on the flagon that Khan set on the ground beside himself, just out of their reach. It was less than half full. It was enough to slake their thirsts, or make them violently ill if they were careless.

When Khan started speaking, Hig sensed that something about him was different. Although he hadn't known Khan very long, unlike Lurde, who was related to him, he sensed a shift in the leadership of their small group. Khan was asserting himself, and it bothered Hig, even if Lurde wasn't aware of the change.

Of course, this might have been Khan's nature all along. His earlier behavior could well have been tainted by the fact that he had just escaped from a very horrific nightmare. Giving the man his due, Hig had to concede that the ordeal Khan had been through would have sent a lesser man over the edge.

"This is supposedly their last rest stop before they reach their destination." He paused for a moment, clearly expecting praise for his procurement of such vital information. Hig and Lurde waited silently for him to continue, their impatience with his hold on the water growing by the minute. When they didn't respond, he added, "I was right, no one had even noticed that I'd been gone. I was able to move around their camp unchallenged."

When both failed to respond for the second time, he begrudgingly grasped the flagon by the neck and with a sigh of resignation, handed it to Lurde with a grunt, "Here."

Lurde eagerly clutched the flagon to her lips and drank selfishly of the tepid contents. After a moment, she handed it off to Hig. He also took the flagon with glee and drank hastily, spilling the precious liquid past his mouth and down the side of his chin. Like Lurde, the warm liquid mixed readily with the dust and dried blood on his chin, turning it a bright crimson color once again.

Slowly, reluctantly, and a bit shame-facedly, Hig handed the almost empty container back to Khan. Only then did he notice the strange expression on Khan's face, as he looked first at Hig, and then at Lurde.

Following his eyes, Hig realized that he was attracted by the bright red color of the blood that had been smeared into the dust covering their faces.

"What happened while I was gone?" he suddenly blurted.

Lurde spoke first, trying to allay his concern. "We needed fluids. It's only the blood from a dead rogue." Feeling that she needed to justify their actions further, she quickly added, "We were dying!"

Hig also felt that he needed to justify their actions, but not to Khan. He would make his peace with his god when the time came.

Weakly, Khan argued, "You knew that I was coming back. You should have waited."

Pleadingly, Lurde said, "But we were dying, Khan. We couldn't wait for your return."

Seeing the effect the argument with Khan was having on Lurde's conscience, Hig determined that he needed to change the subject. Like him, she could wrestle with her demons later when they were stronger, both physically and mentally.

"How much longer will they be there?" he asked of Khan, his voice strong and forceful.

Looking away from Lurde with a disgusted expression on his face, he answered, "Several hours more. They are sleeping and resting. The last leg of the journey is supposedly a long one."

"Then we must make our move now, or we might not have another chance."

Khan looked at him with surprise. "And just exactly what do you think the three of us can do against that army of rogues and warriors?" he blurted exasperatedly.

Before Hig could answer, he added, "I can come and go from their camp with ease. I can bring you and Lurde all the food and water you will need to survive this environment. But I cannot kill fifty well armed warriors and several dozen rogues." Emphatically, on the verge of screaming, he finished, "I just can't!"

Khan's outburst brought the reality of their situation home. Hig suddenly realized how foolishly he'd been thinking. At one point, he had honestly believed that it would be as simple as entering the rogue's camp and creating an uprising of the prisoners. But now that he was thinking clearly, he could see that even if he accomplished such a feat, without proper weapons and training, they would be massacred before they could inflict any serious injuries. How stupid could he have been?

He needed to come up with a new plan, one that had at least a vague chance of succeeding. Without a proper plan, he couldn't put Lurde in harm's way. It meant more to him to keep Lurde from any danger, than it did to save the captives.

Speaking calmly, almost resignedly, Hig said to Khan, "Then you must bring us food and water. We will follow alongside them and wait for an opportunity to present itself."

"And how long do we wait for this opportunity to present itself? Or worse, yet, what if one never presents itself? What do we do then, Hig?" he asked, his voice sounding angry and frustrated.

"I don't know what you thought I was capable of when we first met," started Hig, fighting to keep his voice calm and even. "But you were given the opportunity to make for the main trail, and you chose to stay with us. You obviously felt that you could do more good for your friends by joining forces with us than you could by returning to what is left of your tribe. Well, that was your decision at the time, and although I wasn't sure that I even wanted you along, I didn't object." He paused for a moment to catch his breath. Although the water had done wonders for him, he was still very much under the effects of dehydration. Swallowing, he continued. "Now that you're here with us, I expect you to help us, in any way that you can. If that means fetching us food and water so we can tag along with this bunch of murdering rogues, than that is what I expect of you." He paused again, but this time for effect. When he continued next, his voice was low and firm, emphasizing each word. "If you don't feel you can do that, then we better part ways now, because Lurde and I cannot afford to put our faith in someone that might let us down."

His speech had the desired effect; Khan's expression showed his embarrassment.

Hesitantly, Khan spoke, "I'm sorry." With a needle that stung, he continued, "I guess I don't know what I expected."

Hig didn't answer while he considered whether Khan was serious, or still jabbing.

Lurde, sensing the tension in the air between them, quickly offered, "We know they are moving north-westerly, maybe we can get to their destination before them."

Hig and Khan both turned to look at her. It was such a simple idea, and yet, it was the best idea that anyone had mentioned yet!

### **8**

They set off at a brisk pace. Khan headed straight back toward the rogue encampment, while Hig and Lurde made their way west. Before they departed on their separate ways, it was agreed upon that Khan would secure several flagons of water and as much food as he could safely abscond with unnoticed. He would also garner as much information from his trusted friends within the camp as possible, and then rejoin Hig and Lurde when the opportunity presented itself.

Although there was some disagreement regarding whether or not Khan should tell his closer friends within the camp about Hig and Lurde, Hig finally relented. While Khan felt strongly that friends within the rogue encampment might be valuable allies, Hig worried that someone might tell, hoping to garner favor from their captors. But Hig was too weak to continue the argument, preferring to save his strength for the trek that lay ahead.

Part of the reasoning behind Hig's reluctance to bring others from the camp into their secret circle stemmed from the fact that Khan was able to come and go so freely. He couldn't argue the fact that they were much too far from the equatorial trail for a man to survive the trek without food and/or especially water. Thus, he couldn't dispute the logic behind the rogue's complacent regard toward their captives, and their subsequent lack of concern that they might escape.

But despite the logic behind their actions, Hig couldn't bring himself to fully accept Khan's fortuitous ease of mobility. Furthermore, he found it hard to believe that the rogue's camp was so well supplied that they wouldn't miss the number of flagons he boastingly promised to bring back. The whole situation made him uneasy, and yet he couldn't discuss it with Lurde; she was in full agreement with Khan.

His hand went to the hilt of the long-knife and rested upon it for a moment. Just the contact was enough to set his nerves at ease. If Khan were working with the rogues, or worse, the pale warriors, he would have to answer to him. And as long as he possessed the long-knife, Khan had better be careful.

They were making good time even though they had to stay low and out of sight until they were well west of the encampment. Then, in order to guarantee that they would find the exact location that the rogues seemed to be heading for, they turned toward the south and put themselves directly in their path. From now on, they would have to be careful of scouting parties overtaking them from the rear, while inadvertently stumbling into the rogue's destination to the front.

The later was of greater concern than the former. With regard to the scouts, they would see them coming if they watched their back trail. But regarding the destination they were heading toward, they had no idea. Because they didn't know what they needed to look out for, they might be upon it before they were aware of it. And if it turned out to be more pale warriors, he and Lurde were as good as dead.

When they had put a safe distance between the camp and themselves, Hig grabbed hold of Lurde's arm and indicated for her to stop. When she did, he nodded toward the ground. Without any argument, she quickly settled down, glad for the respite. Without being obvious, Hig positioned himself beside her in such a way that he could keep a casual eye on their back trail. If Lurde took notice of his actions, she didn't say anything. More than likely, she just assumed he was keeping an eye out for Khan and the supplies he promised to bring.

They sat in silence for a moment, catching their collective breaths. Although it hadn't been that long since they'd had water, their throats were already parched from the combination of dry air and dust. Khan had taken the flagon back with him, hoping that if anyone had noticed him departing camp with it, they would only assume that he'd gone off to relieve himself. If he were seen returning without it, someone might wonder what had become of it.

They would have to tackle this problem repeatedly if Khan didn't bring them enough supplies to reach the unknown destination.

But Hig wasn't worrying about that right now. He had other, more important matters on his mind. Namely, he was wondering how Leeta was faring. Despite her paralysis, she was a resourceful woman. He could see now that he needed her every bit as much as she needed him. The more he thought about her, the more he realized that his main concern was whether she found a way off the behemoth or not. If she hadn't, she might very well be dead. She would have starved or died of thirst long before the behemoth died of old age. And so long as the behemoth was alive, he doubted that anyone would be brave enough to approach it, despite its gentle nature. It was only because of the pilot that his daughter saved, did they come to know the gentler side of the beast.

He laughed aloud to himself, remembering his thoughts of ruling the world from atop the behemoth with the long-knife in hand. Lurde, distracted by his laugh, turned and looked over at him, her eyes questioning his.

When he didn't speak right away, she urged, "What's so funny?"

He could see the desire in her eyes; she wanted to laugh too. She wanted to share in his pleasant thoughts, and be taken away from this part of the world that was so inhospitable and unkind. She wanted to share in his laughter.

But he couldn't share that part of him with her. He wanted to. He wanted to take her away from here and treat her like a queen. He wanted to shower her with cool, clear water, and wash away her sorrow and pain. But he couldn't, even if he had that kind of power. It would have been too painful for him to share. Those thoughts and dreams belonged to Leeta, and he couldn't just give them away, not even to this woman sitting next to him that he professed to love; they simply weren't his to give away.

Instead, he simply replied, "Nothing."

"You're keeping something from me, aren't you?" she pressed, her smirk growing into a smile, while her voice grew almost playful.

When she saw the seriousness in his eyes, her smile quickly faded. It hurt him to see it go, but he felt it had to be that way.

With all pretense of humor gone, he simply stated, "We need to be going. Khan is expecting us to be farther ahead than this."

Sullenly, she got to her feet and with nary a glance at him, set off toward the northwest. He hesitated just a moment, teetering on the verge of calling out to her. It hurt him to see how easy it was for him to hurt her. He didn't want to hurt her; he just wasn't ready to make the hurt go away.

With an unspoken vow, he swore that he would share everything with her eventually. But only after he knew what had become of his Leeta.

They continued on for a short distance. Lurde pushed herself just hard enough to make it clear to Hig that she didn't want him walking beside her. After a bit, he reluctantly hung back, giving her the space she wanted.

Every fifty steps or so, Hig would glance back over his shoulder, sensing that they were being followed. The short hairs on the nape of his neck kept standing on edge. When he didn't see anyone behind them, he finally decided that it was nothing more than knowing that the entire camp was following them, mixed with a good dose of nerves. Yet, he couldn't just shake it off.

The farther they went, the more frequently he glanced over his shoulder. Finally, Lurde pulled up short and turned to face him.

Angrily, she said, "Do you think we are being stalked, or are you just afraid of your shadow?"

She'd been aware of his increasing anxiety about being followed, and it was starting to grate on her. How she had seen his actions while facing straight ahead, he had no idea.

Making a point to sound casual, he said, "We are being followed."

His answer only served to infuriate her even more. She knew that he was referring to the entire camp of rogues, pale-warriors, and their captive friends, while she was referring to something more definite, namely, his nerves. Yet, his casual reply was such that he didn't know what she meant.

"All right!" she fired back, her anger boiling over. "If you don't want to let me into your private little world, that's your business. But after everything we've been through together, I had just stupidly assumed that I meant more to you."

Stepping up to her, he grabbed her in his arms and pulled her against him. She stiffened for just the briefest of seconds, and then she relented, her body going soft against his.

Softly, he whispered in her ear, "I'm sorry, Lurde, but that world is even closed to me for now. Until I know what has become of Leeta..."

Lurde suddenly stiffened in his arms. Before he could ask her what was wrong, she blurted, "I'm so sorry, Hig. I never even considered that you might be reminiscing about Leeta. How could I have been so thoughtless? You must think I'm the most selfish person left on this planet."

"It's all right," he consoled. "I should have explained instead of shutting you out. That was unkind and unthinking of me. I won't let it happen again."

He kissed the top of her head, and she snuggled even tighter against him. He was suddenly aware of the firmness of her nipples pressed against his chest, and his erection rising up, forcing its way between her thighs.

She glanced down at his crusty looking manhood and giggled softly. Following her eyes, he immediately saw the reason for her smirk. His penis was ringed with alternating circles of dust and bare skin; it didn't look human. And she had no intentions of letting him slide it into her!

Grabbing his manhood with a firm grip, she made her intentions known. The grit surrounding his tenderness quickly explained why; she needn't say anymore.

With a smile, he said, "We must be moving, anyway."

"Yes," she hesitantly agreed. "Khan will be expecting us farther ahead than this."

Although he knew they were only making excuses, and neither of them wanted to move on just yet, he added, "Besides, it's not safe this close to their encampment."

Gently, hesitantly, she let go of his penis, acutely aware that it still felt firm and engorged, ready if she were.

But they couldn't let their vigilance down, and both of them knew it. They were much too far from the safety of the jungle to make a run for it now. If they were discovered, they would have little choice but to fight to the death; surrender wasn't an option. They had seen much too clearly how the pale-warriors tortured certain of their prisoners.

Taking his hand, they walked abreast, each step taking them one step closer to safety, or so they thought. Hig continued glancing over his shoulder, his prior feelings of distrust not entirely gone.

Giving his hand a gentle squeeze, Lurde said, "We'll be all right."

Hig wasn't sure if she was trying to persuade him, or herself. He decided not to answer her vocally, afraid that she might respond with questions, and gave her hand a gentle squeeze in reply, instead. She smiled at him and continued on in silence.

After thirty minutes, Hig slowly pulled up and suggested they rest until Khan could catch up with them. The effects of the water were wearing off, and Lurde quickly dropped to her haunches, her breathing sounding strained. Hig had sensed a change in both of them earlier, but had decided it was best not to bring it up. He felt that the longer he could ignore their distress, the longer it would be before it overcame them.

Turning to face back in the direction from which they'd come, he dropped down beside her. She slumped lower, her bare buttocks coming to rest in the dust. She would have gladly flattened out on her back were it not for the bright glare from the twin moons shining down on them. Instead, her head drooped forward, her chin coming to rest on her chest, and pulled her knees up against her, wrapping her arms around them. This position exposed the least amount of her bare flesh to the unrelenting heat and glare. It also protected her mouth from the dust that lay thickly beneath their feet.

Hig sympathetically looked on, unable to offer her any comfort. In addition to his own pain and anguish, he also shared in hers. Tormented by his inability to offer her anything, he silently stared eastward. Soon, he prayed, Khan will arrive with food and water, maybe even something they can use for a makeshift shelter to protect them from the glare. Soon, he thought.

They waited for more than an hour, their flagging spirits growing weaker by the minute. During the hour, they said less than two words to each other, though they wanted to say more. Their throats were raw from the dust despite their best efforts to avoid inhaling it.

They'd been sitting in the same position for such a long time that Hig's body had grown stiff from the lack of movement. And so, it was with some dismay, when he discovered that he had to relieve himself. It had been such a long time since his last bowel movement that he couldn't remember it.

Rising stiffly to his feet, he looked down to Lurde's questioning eyes and crudely indicated his intentions. She only turned away, her eyes drifting back out over the eastern horizon. Like Hig, she too was stiff and cramped from the waiting. But unlike Hig, she didn't feel any pressing needs.

Hig had barely shuffled more than ten feet from where he'd been sitting when a voice he barely recognize as that of Lurde's suddenly croaked out, "Coming." After a moment of silence in which he was unable to digest the meaning of her words, and could only bring himself to stare dumbly back at her, she added, "Khan, he's come back."

Like a man stricken, he turned to the east, his mind only half comprehending the significance of her words, yet sensing the urgency hidden within them. After staring unseeing at the approaching figure for almost a full minute, he finally grasped the full meaning of what his eyes beheld.

In his excitement, he completely forgot his need for a bowel movement, and instead started stumbling toward Khan. Lurde, having risen to her feet was also struggling through the reeds to reach him.

Khan, seeing his older compatriots coming toward him, hurried up his pace. He was disappointed at the small amount of supplies he'd been able to procure. Yet, one look at the condition of the two people heading toward him and he knew they wouldn't care; at least not in the immediate future.

When Hig was less than fifty paces from him, he suddenly pulled up short and drew the long-knife from its scabbard. Following close behind Khan was a small contingent of people. Because of the bright light and the distance, Hig couldn't tell who they were, and quickly assumed the worst.

"Lurde!" he croaked, the strength in his voice surprising him.

Turning back, she met his gaze, questioning his actions without speaking a word. When she saw his unwavering stance with the long-knife held at the ready, she quickly followed the path of his gaze.

Khan, meanwhile, had come to a stop. Although he could see Hig's failing physical condition, he could also see the bloody edge of the long-knife. No respectable man left his weapon fouled, especially such a fine weapon. With gradual understanding, Khan realized that he was looking at a man that had quit caring; he was looking into the eyes of a very dangerous individual!

"Hig," he said clearly. "I've brought water and food."

Hig, sensing Lurde's eyes still upon him and feeling betrayed, spoke softly and slowly, trying hard to emphasize the right words. "You have also brought them with you." He nodded ever so slightly to indicate the approaching group of people.

Before he could say anything else, Lurde spoke up, "They are my friends, Hig."

Squinting, Hig looked closer at the straggly group of people now surrounding Khan, their questioning gazes focusing on him and the long-knife, wondering what was going on; what had they missed. Most recognized Hig, and knew him to be a friend. They also recognized the long-knife, and they didn't trust it.

For the first time, Hig realized that none of them was armed. Several carried flagons of water or crude sacks, but none had so much as a stick with which to defend themselves.

Lurde had sidled over to Hig and put her hand over his, gently forcing the long-knife down till the point rested on the ground at his feet. Only then, did Khan take a step forward and un-sling a flagon of water. After removing the stopper, he offered it first to Hig. When Hig objected, indicating that Lurde should drink first, another of the group stepped forward and assisted her with another flagon. For the moment, it seemed there was plenty of water to go around.

After drinking his fill, he handed the flagon back to Khan with an apology. "I owe you my life. I doubted your intentions. When I saw the others with you, I assumed that you'd betrayed us."

"It's all right, Hig, I would have thought the same." He paused for a moment before adding, "If you didn't trust me, you wouldn't be here where we'd agreed to meet."

"No, that's not true," he quickly argued, not willing to let go until the whole truth came out. "I wanted to be here to kill you if you betrayed us."

The three of them stood out from the others with their covering of dust. But only Lurde and Hig looked as if they'd been through hell. Unlike the few that the rogues and pale-warriors had tortured, the remaining were well taken care of concerning their needs. They were given all the water they cared to drink, plenty of rest, and sufficient food for the journey. They clearly had something in mind for their prisoners beyond their personal pleasure.

As one, the group decided to make camp right where they were. Lurde and Hig were too exhausted to continue, and the others were tired from the journey. The sacks contained a variety of foodstuffs, including cured meats and fruits. At the sight of the food, Hig suddenly remembered his nature urge and strode stiffly from the immediate area.

After a brief struggle with his bowels, he returned to their makeshift camp with a renewed appetite. His stomach was empty and he intended to refill it.

They sat around in a circle, each taking bites from a communal hunk of meat before passing it to the one beside them. In between the meat, a flagon of water made the rounds. Only after they'd satisfied themselves on the hardier fare, did Khan break out a piece of fruit for each. Hig was quick to notice the way Khan had taken charge of the situation. Although he tried not to let it bother him, since he didn't relish the burden of caring for so many more people, it still rankled him. He had grown accustomed to the respect he was receiving from the tribe members before the rogues attacked, and now he discovered that he had missed it.

Feeling this way rankled him even more than the original reason for the way he felt; it went against his nature to force his ideas on others and vice-versa and what he was missing was just that. He found himself longing for the time when others were looking to him for leadership, and this group was only looking at him as a frail old man that, while he warranted the respect of an aged individual, or elder, he was still just an old man. If anything, they saw him as a liability, or so he mistakenly perceived.

While they savored the sweet fruits that Khan passed out, they made introductions. Lurde knew all of them, and they, likewise knew her. Hig recognized only one of their faces. The four that returned with Hig were all lithe young men, well built and capable. Hig hadn't taken the time to get to know them back at camp, and he had little interest in learning about them now.

At least, he felt that way until the one that he thought he recognized asked him if he knew anything regarding Leeta's whereabouts.

The question not only caught him off guard, it also got Lurde's attention. She looked on in silence, waiting to hear how he would answer it.

"I haven't seen her since the battle broke out. Why do you ask?"

Realizing that he had opened the door to a slippery path, the youth quickly explained, "I constructed the rigging to secure her to the behemoth's back." He hesitated a moment before continuing, suddenly growing visibly nervous. "I fear that it might not have held. The last I heard, the beast went charging madly into the jungle."

"Is there any specific reason that it might not have held?" Hig asked accusingly of the young man, their eyes momentarily locked on each other.

The young man nervously looked away, glancing toward first Khan and then Lurde for support. Though he didn't suspect that his workmanship might have been lacking, he had inadvertently displayed his youthful pride by asking such an inappropriate question. Maturity would have held its tongue, at least when in the company of the mate secured to the beast.

But Hig wasn't concerned with the man's youth and social ineptitude. Instead, he was concerned only with the youth's answer; an answer he found himself in fear of.

Before the man could reply and further alienate him from Hig, Khan said, "I will personally vouch for his work. If the strapping or any part of the rigging failed, I am sure it wasn't through neglect or shoddy workmanship."

Hig only barely heard him; he was too intent on studying the youth's reaction.

"Hig," Lurde started. At the sound of her voice, his anger quickly dissipated.

"It's all right," he said, speaking to all of them. "I didn't mean to get upset with anyone. I just feel so helpless because I don't know what has become of her."

His apology was directed at everyone, but especially Lurde. He didn't intend to make her situation anymore uncomfortable than it already was. Even before the four young men arrived, she felt the tension between him and Khan. It didn't have to be this way. Khan had returned with water and supplies, just as he said he would. There wasn't any reason to continue with his distrust of him; Lurde was right, they were friends. It was time to join forces with them.

"Does anyone know where they intend to take the prisoners?" he asked of no one in particular.

The youth that asked about Leeta visibly relaxed, and was the first to speak. "They only mention getting valuables for their trouble," he eagerly replied.

Khan added, "They like to remind us that this journey is much farther from the main trail than they normally care to travel, but that they will be well compensated for their troubles."

"Of course!" said Hig excitedly. "How stupid of me not to have thought of it sooner."

His excited outburst had everyone's attention. Lurde, looking at him almost wistfully, asked, "What should you have thought of sooner?"

"The rogues," he started, his excitement not fading. "I never considered the possibility that they'd never been through here before." When no one responded, he quickly continued. "Usually, when tribes are attacked by roving bands, or other tribes, they take their captives and their plunder back to their original encampment. These rogues didn't come from the place they are headed," he added with finality.

When he looked around at their faces, he was met with little more than bewildered stares; he knew he hadn't explained himself clearly. Taking a deep breath, he prepared himself to continue, but Lurde spoke up first. Because she had spent so much more time with him, and had shared many of the same experiences, they were thinking along the same lines. She grasped what he was trying to tell them.

"The pale-warriors didn't make this journey anymore than did the rogues," she stated emphatically. "After being in this bright light for the length of time that it would have taken to traverse to the main trail, they would have turned a bright red."

"You're right!" blurted Khan. "When last we left them, many were suffering from bright red burns to their exposed skin." He hesitated only a moment before he perplexingly asked, "So where did they come from, if not where they're going?"

They were all looking back at Hig, waiting for him to answer this last question, and hoping that it would explain where they were going.

"They are going to a preordained destination, my friends. And that means, this wasn't just a random raid, this was well thought out ahead of time." Looking from face to face until his gaze came back to Lurde, he slowly concluded with, "Gelid."

"But that's impossible!" protested Khan.

Lurde solemnly stated, "It's not only possible, but he used my son, Mang, in his plot against us."

Out of respect for Lurde, no one questioned her. Hig assumed that most knew Mang well enough to believe he was capable of such a traitorous act. Moreover, all disliked Mang. In addition to being anti-social in nature, he had a way of alienating people. Hig looked over at Lurde, his thoughts on the two brothers, wondering how they could have turned out so disparate.

In Mang's defense, Hig said, "Mang wasn't aware of the entire plot. He thought only that he was ousting his brother from power so that Gelid could take over. He never would have gone along with Gelid if he had known the whole truth."

A short silence ensued before Khan asked, "So how does it help us to know that they have never traversed this route before? Surely, we cannot lay a trap for them," he added sullenly, sweeping his hand across the sky to indicate the openness surrounding them.

"It means simply that they aren't any more familiar with what lies up ahead than we are," Hig stated absently, his mind already trying to determine how this knowledge could be best put to use. Even if they could arm the four young men that had joined them, they would be a pitiful few against the combined force of rogues and warriors. It also didn't help matters that none in their small band were experienced at killing men, only animals.

After running all the possibilities through his mind, he finally decided that aside from having a small amount of supplies, their situation hadn't changed much. They still needed to reach an unknown destination that they could only assume lay on a course northwest of their present location. And they needed to reach it before the army behind them caught up with them.

He looked over at Lurde, hating himself for being the one to suggest they get moving. She looked haggard and depleted; her skin was a pasty color beneath the dust and burns. He knew that he probably looked even worse than she did, but at least he didn't have to look at himself.

She caught him looking at her, and threw him a questioning glance. He quickly averted his eyes, and she knew that it was time to go.

As he started to rise, the youth that had questioned him regarding Leeta's current situation, jumped to his feet and reached out for his arm, offering him assistance. He nodded stiffly in appreciation before turning to help Lurde to her feet.

He needn't have bothered, though. Even before he had fully turned to face her, two others had stepped up on either side of her and raised her gently to her feet. After thanking them profusely, she gingerly stepped forward under her own power, working the kinks out of her joints. Though she didn't need their help any longer, to Hig's dismay, they remained close to her.

Khan had risen too, and turned toward Hig. Hig looked back at him, the nervous tension between them growing. Hesitantly, Khan finally spoke. "You set the pace, Hig. Jun will scout ahead."

Jun was the youth that had asked about his Leeta.

Jun nodded to Hig, casting him a furtive smile before turning toward the northwest. As he passed the other members of their small band, one of the youths handed him a partially filled flagon. Taking the proffered flagon, he nonchalantly slung it over his shoulder and set off at a trot.

They watched him in silence while the other youths gathered their meager supplies together and split them among themselves. Hig noted that they didn't ask him or Lurde to share the burden, which didn't surprise him. But he was confused that they hadn't expected Khan to carry anything, either.

When everything had been taken care of, Khan turned to Hig and said, "We better get moving. The warriors are in the habit of sending out their own advance scouts. We can't afford to let them catch up to us."

Although Hig wanted to question him about his lack of taking part in the carrying of supplies, since he wasn't carrying either, he didn't feel it was his place.

With a shrug, he shook it off, deciding that he and Khan might better serve the others as armed warriors anyway, since they were both carrying weapons.

Walking abreast of Lurde, he whispered so that none of the others could hear him. "If you need to rest, just let me know."

She shot him a look of reproach, insulted that he could even suggest that she might slow them. He immediately regretted thinking that she might be weaker than he. And even if she were, she would fall down from exhaustion before she would let herself be the weakest link in their fragile chain.

Then just as quickly, she smiled at him while reaching over and gently caressing his arm. "Sorry," she said softly. "I know you are only looking out for me."

They continued in silence for the next two hours, stopping only when they caught up to Jun.

As they approached, he stood up and waved to them. "I didn't see anything ahead for another mile, so I decided this was a safe place to rest."

Khan, clearly upset that Jun had taken it upon himself to call their rest break, stated loud enough for all to hear, "The pale-warriors made it clear that there would be no more rests before reaching their destination."

Shame-faced, Jun weakly protested in his defense, "I scouted ahead more than a mile and I didn't see any more than you can see from here."

His anger further fueled by the fact that Jun was arguing with him, Khan heatedly spat, "And did you also scout to our rear and make sure they aren't about to overtake us while we sit here on our asses!"

Jun, suddenly aware that Khan's attitude had nothing to do with their overall safety, wisely declined to respond, and avoid adding more fuel to his fire.

Yet, Hig liked this young man standing before them, despite the shaky ground they had started off on. Jun carried himself with an air of confidence that reminded Hig of him, only many years before. And so, Hig came to his defense. "We are traveling much faster than they. There is no chance of being overtaken."

He didn't say much, but he said enough. If Khan still argued that they might be overtaken from behind, then he was in essence accusing Hig of setting too slow a pace. More importantly, Hig felt that Lurde and he both needed a rest; they were neither as young, nor as fresh as the others.

Khan, rather than argue with Hig, simply glared after Jun before sulking off to the side of the group and contenting himself with chewing on a piece of dried meat. Hig knew that it wasn't over between Khan and Jun, and he also realized what was at the root of the problem; Jun was a born leader, and like Hig, Khan sensed it too. But unlike Hig, Khan felt threatened by it.

There was little conversation in the group, and after less than ten minutes, they were back on the march. Jun set out at a steady trot, quickly dropping out of sight over the horizon, while Khan hung back. When Lurde looked questioningly at him, he simply shrugged. If Khan needed some time to himself, that was fine with him.

They'd been walking for little more than an hour when Jun was suddenly seen running toward them. Instinctively, Hig's hand went to the hilt of the long-knife. As a group, they stopped and waited for Jun to reach them.

Struggling for each hot breath of air, he leaned against one of his fellow youths for a minute, unable to articulate. Another offered him a swallow of water from his flagon, which Jun quickly swished around in his mouth before swallowing.

Still gasping, he finally managed to blurt out that he'd found the destination, or at least what he believed to be their destination. He was immediately bombarded with a thousand questions, the main one coming from Khan, "How do you know?"

Hig looked at Khan, trying to decipher what he really meant by his question. Khan, sensing Hig's gaze upon him, quickly tried to explain himself, "How can we be certain that it's their destination when we don't know what we're looking for?"

Hig felt like saying, "Look around, man!" The bareness of the area left little that could be construed as a place to take prisoners. Instead, though, he held his tongue and waited for Jun to describe what he'd found.

"Not that far from here," he started, still breathing hard, but able to vocalize. "A large black mound rises out of the ground. It is smooth as the edge of a knife, but rounded over the top." He paused to take another sip of water before continuing. "At first I thought it was just an anomaly on the terrain, even though it was directly in my path. Since it wasn't very large and much too smooth to climb, I decided to go around it. I had gone quite a piece past it before I glanced back and saw the opening."

His words brought immediate silence to everyone. Even though it hadn't been discussed, the possibilities of what would be found at the end of the journey had been more centered around another campsite. Although everyone more or less expected to encounter more of the heavily armed pale-skinned warriors, they expected it to be on the open tundra. No one was expecting an entrance that would lead them away from the light to the gods only knew where!

Jun had barely finished speaking, and already an uneasy feeling had descended upon the group. As a young child, everyone knew the stories about the beasts that roamed beneath the planet's surface and how they would come out of holes in the ground in search of innocent children, usually only taking those that were misbehaving. Yet, as they grew older, the stories faded from their minds like lost innocence. But they were never forgotten, not completely.

Hig was the first to speak. "What does the opening look like, and was it guarded? Did you see anymore of the pale-skinned warriors?"

"No," he gasped, taking another swallow from the flagon. "There wasn't anyone near it." He paused for a moment before adding, "Not that I saw, anyway."

"How large is the opening? Can a man pass through it comfortably?"

"It's large enough for several men to enter abreast, and at least as tall as three men," Khan quickly blurted.

"How close to the entrance did you go?" asked one of the other young men.

"Did you get a look inside?" asked another anxiously.

"When I turned back, I intended to enter it. But as I drew close, a shrill howling came from within." He hesitated, looking first nervously toward Khan, and then toward Hig before continuing. "I thought it might be best if I came back and told you of what I saw, just in case something should happen to me."

Hig had witnessed fear firsthand. He easily recognized the smell of it, and he smelled it on Jun. Whatever he'd seen or heard near the opening had sent him running, and he wasn't anxious to return, even with the support of his friends.

"Can you travel?" Hig asked of him.

Trying to sound braver than he felt, he quickly responded in the affirmative.

"Good." Looking at Lurde, and then quickly around the group, he added, "We must get there with as much of a lead as possible. We must find out what is inside the opening, or where it leads."

In a hurry, the small band set out. Since they knew of their destination and its proximity, there was no need of a scout. Hence, Jun strode abreast of Hig and Lurde, while Khan once again hung back. His sullen mood grated on Hig, and he suspected the others felt the same way. But as long as Khan kept it to himself, he was willing to ignore it. The others seemed content to do the same. Only Jun seemed nervous by Khan's position in the group, especially since Khan was armed and he wasn't.

Still, Hig didn't believe that it would come to violence between the two so long as Lurde was around to act as a buffer between them. Having held a position of respect in the tribe, they both acknowledged her as an authority figure and thus listened to her, even if they didn't agree with her. Hig also couldn't help but feel that they were both acting petty and self-important, when there were more things of real importance to worry about than their male dominance within the group.

Because of the nervous energy flowing through them, they quickly came upon the black mound jutting skyward from the tundra floor. It was unlike anything any of them had ever seen before.

Upon a closer inspection, Hig quickly determined that it wasn't man-made; at least, not the mound itself. He would refrain from making any judgments with regard to the opening until they reached the other side and he had an opportunity to inspect it for himself.

It took them less than ten minutes to make their way around it. It would have gone quicker, but Hig felt they needed to approach the opening with caution.

As they came around the southern slope, they could see the gaping black maw, threatening to swallow up anything that got too near. The opening was proportionate to that of a man's mouth in his head, a large, shiny black head devoid of hair and ears. Even the reeds that grew so profusely elsewhere in the dry, super heated air, failed to grow up the side of the mound. And nothing grew in the shadow of the mouth!

Standing off to one side of the opening, they all peered into the forbidding darkness, trying to decipher what they couldn't see. But one thing even Hig's bloodshot vision couldn't hide from him; the ground beyond the shadow line wasn't the usual black obsidian that they were so accustomed to elsewhere on the planet. It was brown.

While they stood off to the side staring into the darkness, Khan stepped around them and boldly walked forward until he was standing directly in front of the opening. He hadn't drawn his knife, and he didn't look frightened; he looked defiant! With his feet spread and planted firmly to the side, his arms crossed over his chest, he stood and stared into the unwelcoming blackness. Even as they looked on, Hig could feel it pulling him toward it, trying to draw them into its dank oasis.

If Khan was trying to exert his hold on the group through a display of bravery, it was working. Even Jun was impressed with Khan's bold display.

Hig didn't need to question Khan's motives; he knew what was going on. He did, however, question Khan's prior knowledge of what lay beyond the opening; was his act a sham? Khan might have impressed the young bucks with his strutting in front of the opening, but he only increased Hig's wariness of him and his ultimate motivation.

Throwing a furtive glance toward Lurde, he sensed that she wasn't impressed with Khan's performance, either. Like Hig, she saw the overt intent behind the act, and she wasn't impressed.

Seeing that nothing was forthcoming from the darkness, Hig stepped out from beside the opening and cautiously approached. Khan, suddenly fearful that Hig might step into the shadows before him, thus stealing his moment of glory, drew his knife and charged forward.

Hig instinctively reached out to stop him, suddenly fearful that Khan was trying too hard. If Khan didn't know what lay within, and he was innocently trying to make a name for himself, he might be rushing to his death, and Hig couldn't let that happen.

"Wait!" he ordered, his hands slipping off Khan's arm as Khan jerked away from him.

To his surprise, Khan stopped, freezing in his tracks just inches from the shadow line. For the first time, Khan's fear of what lay ahead was evident. Despite the dryness of the air, a bead of perspiration clung to his upper lip, and goose bumps broke out on his upper body; they also broke out on Hig's body, as he felt the same breath of cold air wash over him.

Without being aware of his actions, Hig found himself holding the long-knife out defensively in front of him, the tip just hidden in the shadows.

With a start, something touched his right arm. It was Lurde. Sensing that something was wrong, she had come to him, and felt the same frigid draft.

Her hand clenched tighter on his arm, and he could feel her body involuntarily shiver. But was it from fear or cold?

The others, not understanding what was going on, also approached the opening. Unlike Khan and Hig, they quickly realized that it was nothing more than a source of cooler air emanating from within the opening. It, in itself, was nothing to fear.

While Khan and Hig looked on, Jun was the first to step through the shadow line and into the darker reaches within. He had barely gone from sight, when a torch flared to life, illuminating a large foyer within.

Jun was standing off to one side near the wall, grinning from ear to ear. Next to him was a supply of torches and fire starters. There was also a supply of water, ropes, and chains, everything necessary to transport prisoners.

The immediate sense of relief was almost overwhelming. The tension flowed from Lurde's grasp on Hig's arm, signifying the release. As one, they unhesitatingly entered the cavern. Hig, after taking a quick glance at the mound of torches and supplies, headed straight for a large hole in the floor near the rear. Jun, noticing it for the first time, quickly joined him. Lurde, meanwhile, stopped and secured a full flagon of water for herself. Then, she too joined Hig and Jun at the edge of the hole.

Holding the torch out over the top, they quickly saw the handholds carved into the solid rock surface leading downward. This was clearly, where they intended to bring the prisoners. But their questions were still unanswered; where did it lead?

Khan had come up behind them while their attentions were focused in the hole, which was actually a shaft. The other young men had stopped to replenish the supplies from the stash by the wall, along with an armload of torches and a firestarter for each. Although none of them knew what they were going to do next, caching supplies was a way of life, and they'd done it without needing to be told.

As Hig backed away from the shaft, Khan asked, "Do we wait for them in here, and take our chances with being able to hold them off at the opening, or do we head down the hole before them and hope we can find a better place to make a stand?"

Until Khan had mentioned holding them off at the opening, it hadn't even occurred to him. Glancing toward the supplies, he quickly noted that there weren't any weapons. With only two short bladed knives and one long-knife, they would be overwhelmed immediately. Their only option was to descend into the hole and hope to find a more suitable place to make their stand.

"We go down," he nonchalantly stated. When Khan didn't remark immediately, he added, "Unless you know of a way that we can defend the opening with our meager weapons, I don't think there's much of a choice."

Jun was about to say something when Lurde spoke up first, "He's right, Khan. Without more and better weapons, they'll butcher us before we get started. I'm with Hig."

After some furtive glances toward the hole by several of the young men, there was an affirmative nodding and grunting of agreement, although nervously hesitant.

Picking up a torch from where they'd been laid near the hole, Hig held it against Jun's for a moment. After it flared to life, he held it out over the opening in the ground and then let it drop. All heads arched over the lip, following the torch's descent, waiting intently for its landing.

To Hig's dismay, it seemed to sail downward for an awful long time. Glancing around at the other faces peering over the side, he noticed their disappointment too. When it finally struck the bottom, there were several quick estimates at the distance, none of which was less than two hundred feet. While the torch continued to burn brightly, its acrid smoke was carried up to them on the rising draft, along with a myriad of other scents, not the least of which could only be described as human excrement.

"That was stupid!" burst Khan. "What if there are more of those pale-skinned warriors down there, just waiting for their friends?"

He was absolutely right, even if he didn't want to admit it. It had been a hasty, un-thought-out move on his part to drop a torch down the shaft, and he should be reprimanded for his actions.

But as it turned out, there wasn't anyone waiting at the bottom of the shaft. And the more he thought about it, up here in the cavern seemed a much more logical place to wait.

"Why would anyone wait down there where it's cold and clammy when the supplies, warmth, and light are here?" he asked of anyone that was listening.

His logic surprised even him. Yet, he knew that it was luck, and not forethought that avoided what could have been a catastrophe.

Chagrined, Khan fell silent. Jun spoke up in the silence that ensued. "We can't afford to squander the lead that we've suffered to make. We have to go down. Now, before the others catch up to us."

"He's right," agreed Lurde. And that settled any argument that Khan might otherwise have started.

"Gather up the supplies," Jun ordered the other young men. Though he was the same age as Khan and the others, Jun and Khan appeared much older than their peers. Yet, it was only Jun that appeared mature for his age. It was an interesting quandary to Hig, since his first impression of Khan had been so positive. And try as he might, he couldn't pinpoint any one specific action that could be blamed for changing his opinion of the young man. But something had happened. Whether it was physical or mental, something had happened to change his opinion of Khan.

"Hig, since you have the long-knife, you'll lead the way," Jun added, meeting Hig's gaze and looking for any resistance that might be there. He didn't find any. Hig was more than willing to follow Jun's orders, so long as he agreed with them.

The rest of the group was arranged with Lurde in the middle, and Jun bringing up the rear. Khan was directly behind Hig, since he was also armed. At least, that is the reasoning Jun used in order to put as much distance between the two of them as possible.

Hig backed over the side of the shaft and planted his foot in the first toehold. He would have preferred steps so that he could keep the long-knife at the ready. But he wasn't afforded that luxury, since he needed both hands to climb down the carved out grips.

Fortunately, the young bucks secured all the provisions to themselves, so it wasn't necessary for either him or Lurde to carry supplies. When he reached the bottom, he would retrieve the torch that was still burning there. Meanwhile, he could glance down and gage his progress by it.

He was quite a distance from the top when a troubling thought suddenly occurred to him. Yelling to get Jun's attention, he was surprised and startled by how well his voice carried; he made a mental note to advise the others of that when they reached the bottom.

"Don't leave any evidence that we were through here before them."

Jun quickly assuaged his concern. "Only the missing supplies," he quickly called back. "But they won't know what they're missing, anyway."

They descended the rest of the shaft in silence, saving their strength for the effort at hand. Shakily, Hig planted his feet on the ground, his hands almost numb from the exertion. Reaching over, he retrieved the spluttering torch from the floor. As he did, he noticed the grain in the rock beneath his feet; it was striated with iron ore and the humidity had caused it to rust, turning it dull reddish brown. It was the same color as the floor in the cavern.

Holding the torch so that he could see all around, his eyes were drawn to a darker area; an opening leading away from the small area at the bottom of the shaft. With only one exit, he thought wryly, there couldn't be any dispute about which direction they were going to take.

Lurde was only a few feet from the floor, so he waited until she reached the bottom before going to investigate. Steadying her with a hand, he led her over to the tunnel entrance. With one hand still on the cusp of Lurde's arm, he extended the torch inward as far as he could reach. His first impression was that it had been made by men using hammers and chisels. It wasn't any taller than absolutely necessary, and only wide enough for one person to squeeze through. Since they were going to be going single file, he intended for Lurde to stay close to him. If Jun wanted him to lead, that was fine. But he would insist that Lurde be his backup.

As the others reached the bottom, they too in turn came over and peered into the tunnel. Hig noticed that they, like him, were shivering from the cool dampness, despite the effort they'd just expended in descending the shaft.

When all were firmly on the floor of the shaft, Jun quickly took charge. "Hig, you'll lead. I'll go next..."

"No," Hig softly stated, abruptly cutting him off. With all eyes suddenly on him, he casually continued, "I would prefer that Lurde follow behind me, if it's all the same to you."

Jun realized that it was a statement, not a request. He also realized that Hig could prove to be his staunchest ally, if he didn't go against him. Nevertheless, he was silently perturbed that a frail old man was usurping his authority, and he wasn't totally convinced that he should allow it to happen. Yet, he knew that he was going to agree with Hig this time. However, for future's sake, he needed to establish boundaries.

Almost before he even realized what he was doing, he had analyzed the importance of Hig as a member of the group. In his mind, he weighed Hig's two main assets, which were the long-knife and Lurde's commitment to him; both of which were worthy of consideration.

"That's fine, Hig," he quickly stated before anyone noticed the hesitation, or so he thought.

But Hig noticed the hesitation, and wasn't surprised. In fact, he was actually glad of it. It meant that Jun intended to lead the group, and that was exactly what Hig wanted, with boundaries, of course.

Jun continued, "I'll follow Lurde, the rest of you will spread out in the middle, and Khan," he hesitated for the briefest of moments. "And Khan, if you could bring up the rear that would be fine."

Khan only grunted in response. Jun, satisfied, nodded to Hig to start them out. Hig, after throwing a wink to Lurde, turned toward the tunnel and set off.

The stench that assailed them within the confines of the tunnel quickly made them forget about the cold, damp air flowing over their blistered skin. The most overpowering aromas were the scent of human feces and rotting flesh, both of which were constant reminders that they weren't alone.

### **9**

They hadn't gone very far into the tunnel, when Khan started complaining about the fumes from the torch. Though Hig knew that it had to be bothering the others behind him with equal discomfort, he wasn't surprised that it was Khan who complained.

Rather than acknowledge his whining, Hig continued in silence. In his opinion, if anyone needed to ask him to be quiet, it should be Jun. Jun wanted the responsibility of the leadership role. Hence, he was delegated.

They continued on for more than an hour, and Khan was still whining about the smoke making it hard to breathe. He was beginning to get on their nerves. In addition, since they didn't know what lay ahead, they didn't need to advertise their coming. Hig was about to stop and mention this to Jun, when they abruptly broke out of the narrow confines of the tunnel, almost stumbling into the open expanse before them.

They had come to the end of the tunnel, and they now found themselves in a large cavern. Though the light of the torch held high above his head did little to enlighten them of their surroundings, Hig saw enough to realize that an argument was soon to ensue; even though the torch's feeble light couldn't reach the farther extremes of the cavern's expanse, what could be seen revealed more than one other exit.

As the others broke out of the tunnel, they quickly lit torches and set off in different directions to investigate. Although Hig felt the search should have been more organized and controlled, since they didn't have an inkling of what they might find, he kept his thoughts to himself. Instead, he laid a hand on Lurde's forearm, restraining her from doing the same as the rest.

"What is it, Hig?" she said softly so that only he could hear.

"Just wait," he said, not sure exactly why he didn't want her leaving his side. When he could tell that her curiosity was getting the better of her, he said, "Watch the lights. When they go as far as they can, they will peer into the nearest exit to them. It would be wise of us to count the exits, but even more importantly, we must remember their approximate locations."

When she didn't answer him, he threw her a furtive glance. He was relieved to see that she was intent on doing exactly as he requested, her eyes flickering from torch to torch.

Within a few moments, Jun returned. "We'll see what the others think when they get back," he said casually, while unstopping a flagon and taking a drink.

Unprompted, Hig simply stated, "You might want to go easy on that, we don't know when we'll find more."

He involuntarily jerked as if he'd been slapped. Because of their abundant availability in the upper cavern, no one had really appreciated them, excepting Hig.

"Right," he quickly agreed, suddenly ashamed of his thoughtless ineptitude. With nervous quickness, he reseated the stopper in the flagon and slung it over his shoulder.

Taking advantage of the moment before the others returned, Hig added, "You've seen enough of the exits to have made a choice, stick to it."

Lurde shot him a concerned glance, but he declined to enlighten her. Jun understood immediately that Hig was trying to help, and nodded his thanks as the others returned from different quarters.

Holding their torches aloft, one of the young men said, "There's a real bad smell coming from that one." He pointed toward his right, Hig's left. Hig had already decided that he wasn't interested in pursuing that tunnel. Whatever they might find within it wouldn't be of any use or interest to them.

"What about the others?" Jun asked of anyone that cared to answer.

Khan, the last to return from his scouting expedition, spoke first. "I haven't checked them all, but I think we should take that one, directly opposite from there." He was pointing toward the smelly one. "That one smells of death. If someone has been leaving carcasses behind, it stands to reason they would want them as far from where they live as possible."

Though his statement sounded logical, Hig couldn't totally agree with it. Most people left their dead where the sun would find them in short time, they didn't stack them up to decompose and foul the air.

Unless there was a further need for them.

This thought came to Hig out of nowhere, and there wasn't any foundation to it, yet it disturbed him.

As quickly, as the thought had entered his mind, it was abruptly forgotten when Jun said, "We're going there."

'There' was directly across the cavern from the one they entered. It was also the same one Hig would have chosen, but not for that reason alone.

While the others had hurried off to investigate the cavern, Hig had remained near the one opening he knew led to the surface, and carefully studied the floor. He didn't need to search and waste energy; the worn and polished surface of the cavern floor told him everything he needed to know.

Whether this was the same reason Jun selected the farther tunnel or not, he couldn't be sure. Feeling slightly disappointed in Jun, he didn't think it was.

But he had selected the same one Hig had, and for the moment that was all that mattered.

Jun was still pointing toward the far tunnel when Khan began the argument that Hig had sensed coming. They had progressed together to this point, and now they were firmly committed to strange ground. It was time to lay the new ground rules; who exactly was in charge.

"I think you're wrong," Khan said defiantly, taking a step back to separate himself from the group and force the others to decide whose side they were on.

Almost casually, Hig asked of each, "Let's hear the reasons for your choices." He paused for a moment, letting them work their minds. Then, before they could answer, he added, "Then we'll vote as a group. Whichever tunnel we choose, that is who we follow. It's as simple as that."

He knew Lurde would vote with him, and he was voting with Jun. He also felt confident that the others would follow Lurde's lead and vote along the same line, but for their own personal reasons. Khan was well aware of this and knew he was on the outs even before the vote!

Hig had another trick up his sleeve if their loyalty wavered; he would point out the wear pattern on the floor. Even in the relatively brighter light cast by their combined torches, none had taken notice of it except for him.

Unfortunately, they never got that opportunity to vote and finally decide who was going to lead them. Instead, they were interrupted by the sound of many calloused feet slapping down hard against stone.

As one, they froze into silence. Without thinking, Hig smashed his torch against the stone floor, while making a mental note of the location of the tunnel Khan had suggested.

The others, following Hig's lead, likewise flipped their torches to the ground and snuffed them out. But they were too late. Even as they ran helter-skelter, none sure of his destination, the warriors were pouring into the cavern, their long-knives raised at the ready, their quarry in their sights.

Hig, grabbing Lurde's arm, broke for the tunnel nearest them, dragging Lurde along until she could get her feet under her. The tunnel he was headed toward wasn't only the nearest and most logical escape route considering their circumstances, it had also been Khan's choice.

"Come," he urged, pulling hard on her arm, and inadvertently keeping her off-balance.

But she was quick and agile by nature, and quickly found her footing.

Hig, trying hard to maintain his direction, didn't remember doing it, but suddenly found the long-knife in his right hand, while guiding Lurde with his left.

Moving swiftly, their way dimly lit by the glow of torches emerging from the tunnel of death, as he preferred to think of the one that stunk of rotting flesh, he was dimly aware of footsteps closing hard on their heels.

With the dark, ominous opening quickly looming before them, he had to be certain of who was behind them. He couldn't risk slowing down for the opening, only to be run through from behind.

When they were mere feet from the entrance, he gave Lurde a solid push in the small of her back, and spun to face the unknown. He was vaguely aware that several of the young men were fleeing through the shadows; the tunnel that Jun had selected their obvious destination. But the pale soldiers were faster, able to move through the semi-darkness with the confidence born of living in it. They didn't slow or trip over the irregularities in the surface; they were familiar with the nuances of torchlight and ran unerringly through them.

Hig took this all in without effort; it was a talent that until recently, he hadn't known he possessed.

With Lurde safely beyond the darkness of the tunnel, he planted his feet, prepared to make this his final stand if such was required of him.

But it wasn't to be his last stand. To his relief, it wasn't the enemy that he feared it might be. Instead, it was Jun, and close behind him, Khan. Even as he recognized their advancing forms, he heard the death screams of the first fallen.

Khan, oblivious, continued toward him, and then past him and into the tunnel where he collided with a waiting Lurde. Jun, however, shaken by the young man's tormented screams, stopped suddenly, and turned back toward the butchery that was just beginning.

Hig suddenly worried that he was going to run to the man's defense; it would have been a noble gesture, but a futile one.

Unbeknownst to Hig, Jun shared the same thought as he, and today was not a good day to die.

"Hurry!" he softly called to him, trying to spur him back into motion without drawing the attention of the attacking force.

Looking past him, Hig could see that the influx of soldiers had ceased. There were now approximately twenty of them, armed and incensed to let blood. They grew visibly wilder and more possessed with each captured youth. Hig had never seen such violence toward a fellow man before in his life, and the sight before him made him sick to his stomach.

But before he could relieve the rising bile, Jun grabbed his shoulder and jerked him around, at the same time hissing, "Let it go, Hig! We'll make them pay another day."

Hig didn't need any more prodding. Spinning on his heel, he hurried after Jun as his silhouette disappeared into the darkness of the tunnel.

The pale soldiers that weren't preoccupied with the young men already in the cavern saw them entering the tunnel and immediately gave chase. Hig wondered briefly if they could hold them at bay near the mouth of the tunnel, or if they should try to outrun them.

This latter thought seemed foolish. He had seen how fleet of foot they were in the dimly lit cavern; they would easily overtake them in the dark of the tunnel. In addition, they couldn't strategize a defense if they were strung out single file in the tunnel; the soldiers would have an easy time picking them off one by one from behind.

Yet, could they afford to make a stand here, when there was a chance that just a few feet farther into the tunnel, they might find a much more defensible place?

Unfortunately, this was the soldier's home territory, and thus, was aware of what lay ahead, as well as if there was a way around to the other side. If that turns out to be the case, they'll be trapped in between with nowhere to run.

In the fraction of a second that it took for all these thoughts and more to go through Hig's mind, he came to the conclusion that they couldn't afford to stop. No matter how futile it seemed at the moment, they didn't have any choice but to make a run for it!

Fortunately, this tunnel was slightly larger than the one that led them here. As he entered the darkness, he lowered the long-knife so as not to accidentally injure anyone. With hands reaching out, the others guided him along until they were all together. At least, Hig assumed they were altogether. If Khan wasn't present in the darkness, there wasn't any way to know.

Jun's excited voice spoke first. "Give me the long-knife, Hig."

At the sound of the word long-knife, Hig's grip involuntarily tightened on the hilt. He would never give it up willingly.

"No."

Although it was Hig that thought it, it was Lurde that said it, and she sounded adamant.

"I'll hold them off at the mouth of the tunnel with the long-knife while the rest of you make a run for it," he breathlessly demanded. "There isn't time to argue. Give me the long-knife!"

Lurde spoke first. "Hig and I will stay here if that's what he thinks is best. You and Khan can run."

She said the last part with clear distaste in her mouth. The idea of running hadn't entered her mind. She was on this journey to help her friends, and by running, four of them were already dead. She had heard their screams and could only imagine their suffering at the hands of the soldiers. She wouldn't run anywhere, unless they retreated together.

"Khan!" Jun cried. But Khan was already gone, having left them on their own.

"Let's go!" ordered Hig. "We must find a more defensible position."

"But what of Khan?" asked Jun, angered that the man had deserted them.

"We'll catch up to him soon enough. Now, we must run."

They had no torches and no food, though both were of little import at the moment. They did have two flagons of water, Jun and Lurde's. Because it was considerably cooler and damper down here, Hig figured the water should last them considerably longer.

Yet, that wasn't his main concern at the moment. With Jun in the lead, now armed with Lurde's short-bladed knife, and he bringing up the rear with the long-knife, they had no idea where they were going. But soon, whether they wanted to or not, they would have to make a stand. The sound of advancing footfalls was already growing nearer.

The tunnel was slightly larger than the one that led them to the cavern. There was room enough for two people to walk abreast, and only occasionally scrape their shoulders on the jagged rock walls. The ceiling, like the first tunnel, was barely inches above their heads. Yet, if they controlled their strides, it was safely above them. Hig had the least to worry about on that front, since he was considerably shorter than both Lurde and Jun. In addition to making traveling easier, the extra width gave him room to maneuver with the long-knife. He would have to adjust for the ceiling, though, or it could prove to be a deadly error on his part.

The more he considered the strategy of fighting with long-knives in the confines of the tunnels, the more worried he grew. He had to assume that the pale soldiers were adept in these conditions, and he was not.

Of one thing, he was certain. He would not let Lurde die before him.

His spirits were momentarily bolstered when he heard the clang of metal against stone; a soldier had carelessly allowed his weapon to scrape against the tunnel wall!

Was it possible that he had over-estimated their enemies? As hard as he found it to believe, he still drew strength from the thought.

Despite the sound of footsteps growing incessantly closer, Hig noticed that the breeze wafting through the tunnel carried their smoke back toward the cavern. Hence, it also carried the scent of what lay ahead of them.

Though it was very fine and light compared to the pungent odor of decaying flesh that had accosted them earlier, Hig easily recognized it as water.

They were nearing a source of water. It was different from the damp chilly air that was so prevalent throughout; this air smelled fresh, cleansed. And it was swiftly growing warmer.

Or at least, he assumed it was growing warmer. It occurred to him that they might just be growing acclimated to the ambient air. This could be especially true considering the effort they were exerting.

Yet, though they ran as fast as they could, even risking their safety to make haste, he couldn't shake the feeling that they were being held back by the restrictive darkness. They could make much better time if only they had a torch.

But that wasn't the case. The soldiers had the torches, in addition to the experience, and they were quickly overtaking them.

"Wait," Hig breathlessly cried out to Lurde and Jun. "It is time to make a stand!"

"No," Jun called back, equally breathless. "We must keep running."

Hig could see the reflections of the advancing torches flickering off the jagged rock walls and ceiling of the tunnel as the soldiers drew nearer. His back felt visible and exposed to them. He could almost feel their hot breaths against the streaks of sweat pouring down the back of his neck. And though the air flowed past him, they were close enough that he could smell the acrid smoke of their torches in his nostrils.

He was about to turn and sacrifice himself in order to buy Lurde and Jun some time, when Jun suddenly called out to him, "Trust me, Hig, we're almost there!"

It was as if Jun had been reading his thoughts. If he had waited even two seconds longer, Hig would have been too preoccupied with the soldiers to have heard him. But hear him, he did. And putting his faith in Jun, the young man that had impressed him earlier, he continued to run.

The footsteps sounded as close behind him as did Lurde's in front of him. Her back was lit up and shiny with perspiration, as the flickering torchlight glanced jerkily, creating a variety of hues. They were so close now that Hig was positive he could feel the heat licking off his own exposed back. And his back had never felt so exposed and vulnerable as it did now.

He could hear the rasping of their breath loudly in his ears. Soon, he would feel the sharpened point of their blades against the tender skin of his back. He had to turn and face them now, while he still had a choice, despite Jun's plea!

But he never got the chance. As he planted his right foot to pivot around and face the charging warriors, someone or something grabbed him by the gray stringy hair that grew sparsely from his head and yanked him sideways, almost lifting him off his feet and hurtling him out of harm's way.

Scrambling to get his feet under him, he could feel his hair pulling free by the roots. The pain was excruciating, and he swung the long-knife reflexively, jabbing forward and hitting only the solid rock of the tunnel walls. He was angered, hurt, and desperate, and he'd lost track of Lurde!

Powerful arms surrounded his, and a hand cupped over his mouth, forcing him to gasp for air through his nose.

"Quiet!" someone rasped in his ear.

With the realization that he wasn't being killed, came the knowledge of who was holding him, Khan!

Before he could ask what had happened to Lurde and Jun, Khan released him, and not a moment too soon. Turning the corner and coming face to face with him was a pale soldier bearing a torch. He seemed as surprised to discover Hig standing in his path, as Hig did to see him.

Hig became the warrior that was buried deep within his psyche. Before the pale, torch-bearing soldier could react, Hig gutted him cleanly with the long-knife. Even before the mortally wounded soldier could drop the torch to the ground in front of him and fall forward, snuffing out the guttering wick and splashing sparks in every direction, Hig had turned and was giving chase to Khan.

They had no torches, and hence his progress was slow, but no other soldiers were coming after them. At least, not yet. The dead soldier lying across the tunnel floor with his guts spread out around him would give them pause for a moment, but only a moment. The tunnel ahead contained only Lurde, Jun, and Khan, and there weren't any branches to take.

He hadn't gone far, when Khan suddenly appeared before him. "Hold up," he said almost casually before adding, "And don't go sticking anyone with that thing."

Hig knew he was referring to the long-knife when he said, 'that thing'. He discovered he got a perverse pleasure from the way Khan spoke to him. Though Khan's voice was casual, Hig could hear the newly acquired respect in it.

Lurde suddenly pushed past Khan in the dark and wrapped her arms around him, her voice filled with relief and worry. "I thought they were going to get us. I could hear them right behind us."

"It's all right," he whispered softly into the side of her head, the smell of stale sweat and old dust filling his nostrils.

For the first time, Jun spoke from farther up ahead. Like Khan and them, he kept his voice low, aware that the soldiers weren't very far away. "If it hadn't been for Khan appearing before us when he did, they would have caught us," he said with reverence to Khan. "We owe you our lives."

Almost bashfully, Khan replied, "Any of you would have done the same. I only wish there had been something we could have done for the others."

"Yea, me too," agreed Jun.

There was a moment of silence, a tribute to the young men that were killed. Everyone amongst them realized that they were alive only because the soldiers had been preoccupied by their friends. It had been ill fate that brought the soldiers out nearer to them than they, a simple case of destiny.

"We can't stay here," said Hig, breaking the silence. "The soldiers will be coming soon. The death of one will not keep them at bay. We are only one branch removed from the first tunnel, and they have plenty of men to send in both directions. In addition, now they know we are dangerous, and will use more caution when they approach."

"What are you suggesting?" asked Khan, his voice sounding a trifle edgy, and just a little bit nervous.

"It does us mute to continue farther into this tunnel, when our captive friends will be coming down into the other cavern. Yet, the soldiers know we are here, and they won't quit coming for us. Not to mention that they're familiar with these tunnels, and we aren't."

"So, you are saying that we should go back and confront the soldiers?" asked Khan incredulously.

"If we hurry, we might still beat them back enough to retrieve the weapon from the soldier Hig killed. They are all well-armed, and won't even think of securing their fallen comrade's weapon," piped up Lurde, making her intentions clear. When no one spoke for a moment, she quickly continued, "They would have split their force to pursue us in both tunnels, if we move now, we will only have to defeat half as many. When they discover that we didn't continue in the other tunnel, those men will backtrack and regroup."

It was impossible to see facial expressions in the pitch black of the tunnel, but Hig didn't need a light to see the anger on Khan's face, or the fire burning brightly behind his eyes. Khan wanted to run, and they were turning to fight. Unlike Lurde, Khan forgot why they were here. If they turned and retreated now, they would be letting their friends down, and the four young men would have given their lives for naught. He couldn't let that happen.

"With another long-knife, we can hold the warriors at bay in these narrow confines forever. And if we move now, we will have the element of surprise, since they won't be expecting us to return. As far as they're concerned, we should be heading as far from them as possible, and they'll conduct their search accordingly," Hig quickly added, in support of Lurde.

"He's right, Khan," argued Lurde, trying to convince him to stay with the group.

Despite his personal feelings toward Khan, Hig found he agreed with her. After all, he thought sourly to himself, Khan did stick around and lend a hand when they needed him. If it weren't for Khan, they never would have gotten this far.

So why did he feel the way he did about Khan. Was it simply because he liked Jun and wanted to see Jun succeed as their leader?

Even as the thought entered his mind, he saw the stupidity in it. If Khan was the better leader, then Khan should lead. It didn't really matter to him, so long as they didn't look to him for guidance. He was here to help Lurde, and to see to it that no harm came to her. If he could do something for her captive tribe members at the same time, he would. But if it came down to them or her, she came first.

With an audible sigh, he succumbed to Lurde's pressuring. "Then let's get a move on it," he said grudgingly.

Jun moved off in the direction they had come. "I'll lead," he anxiously whispered as he went past.

Hig expected Khan to protest, sure that he wanted to reach the corpse first so that he could lay claim to the long-knife. But to Hig's surprise, he hesitated, waiting for Lurde and him to go ahead.

And Hig didn't like it. Although he knew their enemy lay ahead, he couldn't stop the skin on the back of his neck from bristling at Khan's nearness behind him. In the dark, Khan could easily kill him before the others were even aware of what was going on.

Yet, he couldn't justify why he felt the way he did about Khan. The man had never betrayed them. In fact, just the opposite was true. He had risked his life on several occasions to help them when he could just as easily have turned his back on them. So why didn't he trust Khan?

Hig expected Jun to come face to face with the soldiers at any moment, and yet, the tunnel remained dark and forbidding ahead of them. Within a few uneventful moments, they had backtracked to the dead soldier's corpse, marking the branch in the tunnel. To their combined surprise, it was dark in both directions. Bending over, Jun quickly retrieved the long-knife from where it had fallen.

"Here," he said, holding something out to Lurde.

At first, everyone assumed he was handing Lurde the short-bladed weapon that he'd been carrying, but to everyone's surprise, he was offering her the long-knife.

In the dark, it was impossible to see, but there could be no mistaking her exclamation, quickly followed by her refusal.

"No, I can't," she argued, pushing the proffered weapon back at him.

Silently, Hig hoped Jun would insist, and she would give in and accept the weapon. But he knew her well enough to recognize the determination in her voice; she was not going to take it from him.

"If I can't convince you to take it," he said seriously, "Then I want you to decide who should wield it on our behalf."

Hig was suddenly ready to press on; there was no doubt that she would insist on Jun keeping the weapon for himself, and thus he felt they were wasting time now.

It came as a shock to both him and Khan, when she suddenly spun around and faced Khan, demanding that he return the knife she'd given him earlier. For just the briefest of moments, Hig thought she'd had an epiphany, and had figured out what he himself couldn't, the reasoning behind his distrust of Khan.

Khan must have felt the same, as he let out an involuntary gasp. Before he could move toward her, Hig quickly raised his weapon and held it before her, guarding her against an unseen attack from the dark.

Sounding even sterner than she had before, she said again, "Khan, we don't have much time. Now please, give me back the knife."

"Do as she says," Hig ordered, taking a step toward him, the long-knife held out in front of him.

"It's all right, Hig," she said, her voice urgent, but lacking fear. "I just want the shorter weapon for myself."

Now everyone was aghast, including Jun. Slowly, Khan could be heard moving forward, his feet stepping softly on the tunnel floor and marking his exact position.

Perplexed, he softly asked, speaking only to Lurde, "You don't intend to disarm me, do you?"

"No," she replied equally softly. "I intend to trade you the long-knife for the shorter one."

It was Hig and Jun's turn to gasp in surprise. And although Hig wanted to reach out and take the long-knife from her grasp before Khan could, he fought down the urge and stepped back. Even if he couldn't bring himself to trust in Khan, he believed whole-heartedly in Lurde. And if she believed that strongly enough in Khan, then Hig would respect her judgment.

If Jun was in shock, he also kept his opinions to himself.

Khan was standing directly in front of Lurde now, and Hig heard him mumble his thanks as they exchanged weapons. She, in turn, only asked that he use it wisely. If there was a hidden meaning in her request, it was too well veiled to be obvious.

Jun, silent up to this point, suddenly said, "Here, it's the sheath."

Khan, taking it from him in the dark, simply uttered thanks. There was the sound of Lurde and Khan fastening the sheaths from their respective weapons around their waists, while Jun slowly worked his way back toward the mouth of tunnel. Though he hadn't spoken his intentions after handing the sheath for the long-knife to Khan, Hig heard the soft padding of his feet moving away from them.

He was torn between waiting on Lurde and Khan, and following after Jun, when the darkness was fractured by the flickering light of an approaching torch. It was still out in the adjoining tunnel, but if it continued on its present course, it would pass within just a few feet of them. If it continued on its course, that is. It could just as easily turn into the tunnel, exposing them in the glare. There wasn't anywhere for them to run that would keep them out of the light.

Jun was waiting at the mouth of the tunnel, his silhouette becoming clearer as the light grew stronger with its approach. Hig slid silently up next to him, not wanting to go past him and extend out into the other tunnel. Hig made a quick note of the fact that Jun was reluctant to give up his place in line.

He could hear the sound of heavy breathing approaching and the stamp of their combined feet on the ground. It was impossible to determine their number, because they literally trotted in step. But whatever their numerical strength, this was where Hig and his friends would make their stand.

Khan suddenly pushed past them and stepped into the tunnel, brandishing the long-knife before him. Hig wondered for a moment if the excitement of wielding such a magnificent weapon had gone to his head. He remembered the way he had felt when he'd first laid hold of his long-knife. It was such a powerful weapon; he'd felt invincible! Did Khan feel that way now?

The soldiers abruptly halted, a scant fifteen feet separating them from Khan. Hig suddenly realized the logic in Khan's move; he was putting their most formidable asset at the front line, and leaving the tunnel for retreat. He silently cursed himself for not having thought of it first.

Stepping past Jun, he whispered softly in his ear so that only Jun would hear, "Protect Lurde at all costs." Then he, too, stepped out of the tunnel and took up a position next to Khan, effectively blocking the tunnel.

They were facing six pale-skinned soldiers, each bearing a torch and a long-knife. In addition, each was adorned with an ornate breastplate made of a brightly polished material. The extravagance of so much iron was mind boggling to a poor hunter such as he that could barely afford a good quality, short-bladed skinning knife.

While they appraised the soldiers, the soldiers did likewise. If they were surprised to see such dark-skinned men bearing long-knives, they gave no indication of it.

Khan spoke first, but not to the soldiers. Sounding almost gleefully anxious for the battle to commence, he said, "Remember, we can't let them push us past the mouth of this here tunnel. If they do, they'll cut us off from the others and take away any possibility of retreat."

Holding the long-knife at the ready, Hig suddenly felt inspired, and maybe even a little bit invincible. He was suddenly ready for the battle to begin.

Together, shoulder-to-shoulder, they started marching toward the enemy. They were equally determined that they wouldn't go down without a fight; they would not be taken prisoner.

To Hig's chagrin, the soldiers seemed even more anxious than they. And then the battle got earnestly underway. Hig drew the first blood, a scathing wound across the nearest soldier's neck and upheld arm. Gurgling and spurting blood, he fell to the ground, his long-knife clanging against the stone floor and walls as he continued flailing it ineffectively at Khan and Hig's ankles.

Khan, ducking under the next soldier's level sweep, finished the man off on the ground with a solid kick to the head. Whether he was knocked unconscious or dead didn't matter, he stopped slashing his weapon about their feet.

Stepping over him, Khan pressed the attack. He faltered slightly when a soldier's blade grazed his shoulder, drawing a heavy flow of blood. Hig, sensing more than seeing, stepped in and jabbed the long-knife at the soldier's chest before he could finish off Khan on the back swing. Though he succeeded only in knocking the soldier back a step, it gave Jun time to pull Khan out of the foray and take his place with the first dead soldier's weapon.

He fought like a madman, moving with both speed and agility. He was a natural with the long-knife, quickly and unmercifully driving the last three soldiers backwards.

When it became obvious that they weren't going to win, the nearest soldier threw his torch at Jun's face and turned to run. He had taken less than three steps, when a short-bladed weapon suddenly whizzed past Hig's face, finding its mark in the exposed back of the retreating soldier.

Turning to see where the blade had come from, Hig was surprised to see Lurde standing alone, the flickering of the fallen torches glancing off her sweat slickened body, a crazy smile of lust and fear smeared across her grime-covered face.

To his surprise and chagrin, he suddenly wanted her, as he never had before. The bloodlust was boiling in his veins, pouring through his conscious thoughts, and demanding immediate satiation. He desired to take her right then and there on the floor of the tunnel, while the dead soldier's bodies bled out around them, the smell of burnt flesh and singed hair strong in the air.

Khan moved past him, a blur in his peripheral vision; Hig had only eyes for Lurde and an erection that needed tending to.

Gazing into each other's eyes, he could see that the feeling was mutual. As she slowly advanced toward him, he was acutely aware of the rise and fall of her breasts as she breathed deeply of the bitter air, exciting him even further. All reason was escaping him. He was suddenly sure that he was going to take her right here and now on the blood and gore covered floor of the tunnel, and she was going to like it! Her hunger was as obvious to him, as his erection was to her.

Jun suddenly shattered the moment with his wild yell, "Come, quick!"

Before Hig could turn, Lurde bolted past him. He stood dumbfounded for a moment while his lust quickly evaporated, then gave chase to her retreating form in the smoky shadows.

Because their forward progress was impeded by the mixture of thick oily smoke hanging heavily in the sputtering light given off by a failing torch, Hig rapidly overtook them. He could see Jun was still in the lead, but Khan was close behind him. Lurde was hanging back, whether to give him time to catch up, or to give the others room to maneuver, he wasn't sure. He noticed also that Jun was close on the heels of the two retreating soldiers, harrying them with a long-knife. In the gloom, he hadn't noticed that the weapon was missing from the soldier Lurde had killed. In fact, he hadn't even noticed if she had retrieved her own short-bladed weapon from the soldier that she'd killed. In the smoke-filled confines of the tunnel, it took all of his effort just to keep up with the progress of the battle, and it hadn't helped that he'd been temporarily distracted.

Jun was yelling again, this time for the soldiers to stop and surrender. Hig could see that he was only wasting his breath.

They suddenly broke out of the tunnel, emerging into the large cavern where they had originally met up with the soldiers. Jun quickly overtook the nearest soldier before he could reach the opposite exit, running him through the back with the long-knife. The pale soldier stumbled over his feet and landed in a heap on the floor of the cavern, pulling Jun off balance as he clung desperately to the hilt of his new weapon. Without hesitation, Jun planted his foot in the small of the dead warrior's back and yanked viciously on the hilt, finally freeing the long-knife from the dead man's flesh.

With the blade dripping fresh blood on the ground at his feet, Jun watched as Khan turned on a burst of speed and overtook the remaining soldier.

To Jun's surprise, however, Khan didn't simply stab his opponent in the back. Instead, he threw himself at the retreating soldier's feet, tripping him up with his arms and bringing him roughly to the ground in a tangled heap.

"Stay here!" Hig hissed to Lurde before running to Khan's aid.

It was a short distance, less than fifty feet to where Khan and the soldier were grappling wildly on the cavern floor, and yet it seemed to take Hig forever to reach them. As he passed Jun, he noticed with wry amusement that Jun was suffering from the same problem he himself had suffered when he killed his first opponent with a long-knife. Experience would teach him how to use the extra weight of the weapon to his advantage, and not to overstrike; such an error in full-fledged combat with several attackers would prove to be a deadly miscalculation.

Hig noticed also that the cavern was devoid of both soldiers and dead bodies. Even though it had been just a short time since their friends had been hacked to death by the soldiers, all evidence of their corpses had been removed.

Khan and the soldier were rolling around in a tangle of arms and legs. The soldier had dropped his long-knife as soon as Khan was upon him. In hand-to-hand combat, once the enemy breached the immediate area surrounding your person, the long-knife became useless. This was where Khan and the soldier were now, breathing hard, kicking, striking, and trying to kill each other with their bare hands and teeth.

Except Khan wasn't trying to kill the soldier, only to restrain him, the information in the soldier's head was a valuable commodity that they desperately required. And yet, only Khan had had the foresight to realize it.

Acting quickly before the soldier delivered real harm to Khan, Hig kicked him in the side of the head. His flailing struggles abruptly ceased, leaving Hig to wonder if maybe he'd kicked him too hard.

Khan, amazed at how quickly the struggling ceased, quickly reached for the man's neck and laid his palm across it. Turning to face Hig, he broke into a breathless smile and nodded that it was okay, the man beneath him was still alive.

Exhausted, Khan rolled over onto his ass and sat for a moment catching his breath. Lurde, having retrieved the fallen long-knives, walked up and laid his across his lap. Too breathless to speak, he simply gazed up at her and smiled his appreciation. Kneeling beside the unconscious soldier, she undid his sheath and pulled it loose. Then, after straightening up, she silently secured it around her own waist, adjusting it down to compensate for her trim waist.

Jun walked up to where they were standing and sitting around the unconscious soldier, the long-knife held loosely at his side still covered in blood. "What do we do with him now?" he asked, surprising the three of them with his question.

Khan only looked at him as if he were looking at a stupid animal. Lurde, sensing that Hig was about to say something sarcastic, quickly answered his question with one of her own. "Unless you know more about these tunnels and where they lead to than you're letting on, what do you think we should do with him?"

Hig added, "He might also know where they plan to take our friends."

Jun, suddenly embarrassed, said lamely, "I hadn't thought of that."

Hig, although momentarily disappointed in Jun, didn't blame him for his oversight. Instead of capturing the soldier, he might have escaped, maybe even wounding Khan in the process. Would the effort have been worthwhile, then?

And even now, they had no idea whether the soldier would be willing to help them, or even if he could be coerced into helping them. It was a gamble that seemed necessary given the circumstances, and it didn't make Jun any less of a leader for not realizing it. Besides, he was busy killing a man, an act that can be very distracting, even when you need to see the whole picture surrounding you.

Surprising Hig even more than Jun's lack of foresight was Khan's quick wit and actions. Once again, Khan came through for them when he was needed. It troubled Hig deeply to think that he still couldn't bring himself to trust him.

The unconscious man stirred, a low moan escaping his pale lips, alerting them to his condition. Khan, jumping to his feet, quickly positioned himself over the soldier's prostrate form and placed his right foot solidly against the soldiers jaw, forcing the pale man's head to one side. With the edge of the long-knife resting almost casually against the man's exposed jugular vein, Khan looked down at the reviving man with an air of contempt. If the soldier so much as squirmed to get away, Khan had only to drag the edge of the blade across his throat and he would be dead.

Hig moved over to where the soldier could see his face without having to contort. Because of the effort and risk they'd taken to keep him alive, Hig didn't want Khan to accidentally kill him. After his own experience with their new weapons, he knew how easy it was to over compensate.

Meeting the soldier's gaze and seeing that he was fully conscious, Hig simply asked of him, "Who are you?"

To Hig's surprise, the soldier answered him without any hesitation. "Sergeant Layton. And you?"

"I am called Hig, and these are my friends," he casually remarked. "We won't go into their names right now, if it's all the same."

"You killed several of my men, Hig. You and your friends will have to pay for that, you know."

"They would have killed us if they could have," he answered coolly, trying hard to remain calm in order to get as much information as they could from him. "We were only killing in self defense."

Then, to all of their surprise, the soldier known as Layton casually dismissed the killing, stating off-handedly, "Oh well, doesn't matter anyway." After a short pause, he asked, "So, why didn't you kill me?" Before anyone could respond, he quickly added, "No, don't tell me, I already know, you want me to show you around the tunnels. That's it, isn't it?" His voice sounded almost congenial with no trace of fear.

Dumbfounded, Hig took a moment to find his own voice before saying, "Yes. And would you mind showing us where you plan to take our friends when they arrive?"

Much too easily for any of their liking, Sergeant Layton readily agreed to show them where they wanted to go. They would have distrusted him at any rate. But with his help coming so willingly, they trusted him even less.

"Let him up, Khan," said Hig, his hand resting on the hilt of his weapon.

Hesitantly, he removed his foot from Sergeant Layton's jaw and stood back, allowing him get to his feet, all the while keeping the long-knife in a position to run him through if he should try to run.

After rubbing his jaw, and then tenderly touching the side of his head where Hig had kicked him unconscious, he met Khan's distrustful glare and with a lopsided smile, said, "Thanks, Khan."

Once on his feet, Hig got the feeling that Sergeant Layton wasn't much younger than he was, despite the youthful tightness of his skin and full head of hair. Moreover, to Hig's surprise, Layton was just a few inches taller than he was, a characteristic that had gone unnoticed in the tight confines of the tunnels.

Still rubbing his jaw, he gave Lurde an appraising glance before asking Hig, "What would you like to know?"

His manner was so calm, Hig found it unsettling. He also didn't like the way the pale soldier openly assessed Lurde as though he were inspecting an animal for purchase.

"Will you tell us where they plan to take our fellow tribe members when they arrive?"

"Sure," he said easily, turning to indicate the opposite tunnel from the one they'd just exited; the same one that they couldn't help but notice the awful stench of decaying flesh was emanating from. When everyone stared in bewilderment, he calmly added, "Through there."

Now Hig was even more suspicious. Layton was acting much too friendly, and not like an enemy at all. If they followed the stench, would it lead to a trap?

"Where does it lead?" asked Khan, before Hig could speak.

"It leads everywhere and nowhere," Layton easily replied.

Hig was first to respond to his whimsical reply. Angered by Layton's lack of concern, he said, "If you can't be more serious, we will kill you right here! Now tell us where it leads!"

While Hig was ordering Layton to be more specific, Khan stepped forward and pressed the point of his weapon against the soft flesh in Layton's side.

Layton winced when the point punctured his skin and a small trickle of blood emerged, contrasting brightly with his pale skin.

"What I mean," he said quickly, not relishing the pain and hoping to avoid more, "Is that all of these tunnels eventually tie together. Of course, there are some that lead only to storage caverns. And then there are some that were dug by differing rebel factions, which are too numerous to keep track of. But most of those are small and usually only connect one main hallway to another so that they can move unnoticed by the lords. They might also be used by bootleggers running black-market goods from one domain to another, but we never pay them much mind."

Confused, Hig said, "I don't understand much of what you said, but you still haven't told us where that tunnel will lead us."

As if speaking to a young child or dimwit, Layton took a deep breath and said, "You are probably referring to the storage tunnel. It's where we keep the prisoners until they can be transported to the recycling labs."

Khan was the first to speak, his anger overflowing into his words, "Don't try to fool with us, we know that smell, it's decaying flesh!"

Looking completely perplexed, Layton simply stated, "Why of course it is. What else would it be?"

Now it was their turn to look perplexed. When none of them was forthcoming with a response, he went on in his overly helpful demeanor, a new idea suddenly coming to mind. "I think I'm beginning to understand," he said thoughtfully. "You are envisioning an encampment of living beings, are you not?"

He paused when he saw their jaws drop even further, suddenly not sure if he should tell them anymore than he already had. Not because he was in fear for his life, he had ceased to worry about dying a long time ago, but because he was sincerely worried about their mental well being. During his time as a soldier, he'd transported many surface dwellers to the storage caverns, and he'd witnessed many that couldn't handle the trauma. He suddenly feared that he might be dealing with a similar situation here.

"You're telling us that you kill your prisoners after you bring them all this way?" asked Lurde incredulously.

"No," he simply stated. "We don't kill them, we just let them die naturally."

Unable to control herself, Lurde lunged at Layton, intending to impale him on her weapon. "Why?" she screamed, driving the blade forward.

Layton was expecting something to happen, and quickly sidestepped her inexperienced thrust. Before she could try again, Hig wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight, speaking calming words in her ear.

Slowly, reluctantly, she stopped struggling against his embrace. When he was sure she wouldn't try to kill him again, he slowly released his grip. Layton stood his ground, though he looked ready to skirt another affront by her.

Hig was the first to find his voice. "How can you people be so cruel? Why do you capture innocent victims, just to let them die of hunger and thirst in this strange place?" he asked, not really expecting a straight answer.

"Why, you asked," he started, "Because we need the bodies. There is much work yet to be done, and the demand for slaves is very high. Also, and I'm not exactly proud of this, but Lord Balzar likes variety." He looked straight at Lurde before adding, "He would be very interested in meeting you."

Before anyone could react, Hig struck him across the face with the flat side of his long-knife, drawing blood and raising a welt along his upper jaw. Although Layton was expecting an irrational response from one or the other of them, Hig's swift reflexes had caught him off guard.

He staggered backwards a few steps before regaining his balance. Meeting Hig's glare with a look of shock and confusion, he asked, "What was that for? I was giving the woman a compliment."

"We see things a little different where I come from," replied Hig, barely keeping his anger under control. "Now take us to this storage cavern!"

"Follow me," he said weakly, turning toward the mouth of the tunnel that was emitting the stench.

"Wait!" Hig ordered. "Jun, you take the lead, and use a torch."

Lurde started to say something, then thought better of it and held her tongue. She sensed the shift of power even before it had taken place. Khan was too quick-tempered to lead them, and Jun was too cautious; it fell to Hig's calm demeanor and experience. He didn't want the role that was thrust upon him despite his best efforts to avoid it, but he wasn't about to follow an idiot, either.

With Jun in the lead, followed by Sergeant Layton with Khan's weapon held just inches from his exposed back, Hig brought up the rear. They hadn't gone very far into the tunnel, when the stench became almost too much to stomach. From deep within the planet, a draft originated, carrying the foul air up with it. Yet, Hig suspected the stench joined the other blend of odors from somewhere much nearer.

He was beginning to doubt his latest suspicion about the stench, when he saw a glimmer of light reflecting off the moist tunnel wall. At first, he thought it was only the reflection from Jun's torch. But then, he realized that as they drew nearer, it increased in intensity, just as the smell of decaying flesh did likewise.

"Wait up," he called softly ahead, his voice carrying in the confines of the tunnel.

Khan reiterated his command to Layton, ordering him to stop or he would stick him again. To Hig's relief, Layton didn't argue.

When they were close enough to speak without raising their voices, Hig said, "If he yells, kill him." There wasn't any need to indicate whom he meant. Jun and Khan both nodded in the affirmative. Then, directing his question to Layton, he asked, "How many soldiers are there?"

"That's hard to say," he replied, his voice dripping with sincerity.

"Answer him," ordered Khan, applying pressure with his blade.

Looking bored with the whole situation, Layton said, "It depends on whether anyone is there with a work detail to retrieve material."

"You better explain yourself," Hig demanded, suddenly believing Layton's posture and demeanor wasn't an act, but that he really was bored with what was happening.

"Just what I said," he sighed. "If there's a detail picking up material, they'll be accompanied by at least six men. Otherwise, there will be two soldiers and several slaves there all the time." As an afterthought, he quickly added, "They're there to help with new arrivals."

Perplexed, Lurde asked, "How can only two soldiers keep thirty or more prisoners from escaping?"

"Where can they go? There is no escape down here."

"What about the rebel factions you mentioned earlier?" she pressed, her voice sounding strained. Hig wasn't sure if it was from breathing the foul air, or the traumatic information she was being fed.

"Anyone who is foolish enough to escape will die of thirst or starvation when they get lost in the tunnels. By the time they're found them, they are nothing more than dried up bones, which can be very difficult to recycle, from what I understand."

Lurde went silent, and even in the dim light, Hig could see the color drain from her face. Beneath the sweat-streaked layer of dust that still clung to her, she looked as pale as Layton.

Hig was about to question him about the strange remark regarding dried up bones, but he never got the chance. At that moment, the dim flickering light that Hig had seen reflecting off the tunnel wall ahead of them suddenly turned a corner and they could see whom the bearer was. Moreover, the bearer could see them.

Jun spun around, dropping the torch to the ground and grinding it out with his bare foot. Even before Hig could bark an order, Layton called out to the advancing soldiers.

"It's okay, men, they only wish to retrieve their fellow tribe members."

Hig noted that there were many more than just the six that Layton said there would be. At the sound of his voice, they slowly ground to a halt.

At almost that same moment, the sound of footsteps could be heard coming from behind them; they were trapped!

The realization that they'd been led into a trap spurred Khan's anger to the surface. Without hesitation, he jabbed the long-knife into Layton's back.

"Wait!" Hig cried out, stopping him just short of inflicting a fatal wound to the man that they suspected of setting them up.

"Why should I?" asked Khan, his anger spewing like sweat and spittle from him. "He knew they were coming! He had only to lead us in here like a bunch of fools!"

"No," Layton hissed, his voice tinged with the pain of Khan's blade penetrating his flesh. "I had no idea they would be here. But if you give me a minute, I'll ask them their purpose," he added breathlessly, and for the first time, sounding a trifle nervous. "I am their commanding officer, they will listen to me."

They recognized Layton when he spoke to them, and saw no reason not to answer. A large man in front, directly behind the torchbearer, replied, "A runner came and told us that there was an especially large group coming, and that the men bringing them were exhausted from the journey. We were sent to relieve them."

"Why wasn't I made aware of this?" he demanded of the large man.

"I am only a lowly private, Sergeant Layton. I do only what I am told by my superiors."

The sound of approaching footsteps was growing steadily louder, increasing the anxiety of the four surface dwellers; they were quickly running out of time!

"Stand aside, private, and let us pass unharmed. I will deliver this group myself. You have your orders, carry on."

Hig was both stunned and surprised by Layton's actions. He felt sure that he couldn't have forced the sergeant to do what he'd just done, and yet there was no threat of harm beyond what Khan had already done to him. Was this just another trick on the sergeant's part?

As quickly, as the thought had entered his mind, he just as quickly dismissed it. It would have been just as easy for the sergeant to let his men kill them.

Sergeant Layton's words had created quite a debate among the group of soldiers. Some were inclined to continue on their assigned tasks, while several others were finding the situation with the sergeant too bizarre to ignore.

Hig was about to prod Layton to take further action, when the group suddenly grew ominously quiet. Hig gripped his long-knife firmly in his right hand and turned to Lurde, indicating she should do the same. The silence made the sound of approaching footsteps to their rear much more audible.

"Layton, we are running out of time," Hig hissed into his ear. "Jun, cover our rear," he added unnecessarily.

Before Sergeant Layton, who was now almost doubled over and losing blood fast, could respond to Hig's request, a tall slender man with dark hair and a strong jaw line approached the group of soldiers from their rear. The soldiers immediately snapped to attention and stood to one side, giving this new arrival and his color guard room to pass.

To their obvious dismay, however, he stopped and asked the large man near the front what the problem was. When the large man finished explaining their dilemma to him, he simply stated that they should kill the surface dwellers.

"But what of Sergeant Layton, sir?" the large soldier asked of him.

"We don't have time to be fooling around, Private. The new prisoners are almost here. Just kill them all and let the recyclers sort it out!"

Hig tensed at the man's words. They all just heard him say that the new prisoners were almost here. That could only mean that the sound of footfalls approaching from their rear were their fellow tribe members. Unfortunately, that also meant there were more than fifty well-armed soldiers about to descend on their hindquarters.

Khan, hoping to squeeze more help from Layton, said tersely to him, "You heard your commander, he just ordered them to kill us, you included!"

What, if anything was expected from Layton, he was only further disappointed by the man's response. With a sigh that rang of relief and resignation, at least to Hig, Layton said simply, "It'll be a lot easier this way."

There was no shock or concern over his commander's orders. There wasn't even any discernable fear of his impending death. He was much too calm for Hig's liking. And there was that mention of recycling again. What did it mean?

But there wasn't time to consider any of this. The soldiers, having gotten their orders from the retreating form that outranked them, were slowly advancing. While already, they could see the flickering of torchlight quickly coming up on their rear.

Khan pushed Layton aside and took the lead. The odds were insurmountable, but none of them would go down without a fight.

Jun, sweating despite the cool, rancid air, moved into position behind Khan. If Khan needed to rest, or went down, Jun would take his place. Lurde hung back with Hig and Layton.

Taking hold of Lurde's forearm, Hig said softly, "I'm sorry I let you down."

Smiling back at him, she simply replied, "You never let me down, Hig."

There wasn't time to tell her how much he loved her, or to share his regrets over their destinies. With the clash of steel against steel, the battle began.

Layton, meanwhile, had sat down on the tunnel floor, his back against the wall. Hig looked down at him, confused as to whether he should kill him, or ignore him. The man was slowly bleeding to death, and he presented no threat to them. There were many others that needed killing more desperately than Layton.

Following Lurde, he stepped past the sergeant, and then stopped abruptly when he felt a hand grasp his ankle. Turning to face him, Layton said, "Don't judge me by my peers." He paused for a moment before letting go of Hig's ankle. When Hig didn't immediately retreat, he looked up into his face and, meeting his gaze said, "I'll see you again."

This last sent a chill down Hig's spine, and he hurried after Lurde, the words echoing in his mind. Though he wanted to ask Layton what he meant by seeing him again, he got the feeling that he wouldn't have gotten an answer. And if he did, he probably wouldn't have understood it.

Khan had killed the large soldier at the front and was mixing it up with the next in line. Jun was jumping from one foot to the other behind him, probing with sharp jabs whenever he could risk it without hitting Khan. They were doing a fine job of holding the line, but soon they would tire, and there were many more soldiers than there were of them.

Glancing back in the direction from which they'd come, Hig noticed the first of the soldiers had reached Layton. Without pause, the leader ran his blade through Layton's chest. Hig felt his bowels tighten, and he thought he was going to be sick. Layton, seeing the blade coming, never even tried to defend himself. What was wrong with these people? Not only did they enjoy killing, but they weren't afraid of dying either. It was almost as if Layton expected them to finish him off. And no one had to give them orders to kill him, they just knew!

Khan cried out in agony and went down, his left leg severed just below the knee. When Jun tried to drag Khan backwards, the same soldier struck him a glancing blow over his right shoulder. His arm numb and useless, Jun dropped his long-knife and fell back on his haunches. When he tried to brace himself, his right arm buckled beneath him, sending him rolling to the side and into Lurde's shins, throwing her off balance. Hig, seeing the desperation on her face, threw himself over Jun and between the attacking soldier and her.

He could feel the cold steel of the soldier's blade slicing along his exposed back, opening a gaping wound. But it wasn't immediately fatal, and it didn't stop him. His impetus carried him to the feet of the soldier, only now he was on his back and looking skyward, the long-knife held level with his chest. Before the pale warrior could bring his blade down into Hig's bared chest, Hig drove his blade upward, into the soldier's exposed groin.

Hig was immediately rewarded with a shower of hot blood and gore raining down on him. And yet, the soldier wasn't ready to die. With a grunt, he drove his blade down, spearing it through Hig's stomach and striking against the stone of the tunnel floor.

But he didn't live long enough to see the result of his effort. Lurde, having regained her balance, swung the heavy steel blade, catching the soldier across the throat and severing his head from his body.

Yet, Hig was only vaguely aware of Lurde's brief victory, his own life-blood rapidly spilling out on the tunnel's floor.

Another soldier quickly stepped in to take the decapitated soldier's place. But unlike the first that fell to Lurde's inexperienced blade, this one was much too quick to be taken by such a simple stroke. When Lurde swung, he easily ducked beneath the arc, bringing his own weapon down on the back of her arm, severing it cleanly above the elbow.

In shock, she stared at the stump of her arm spouting blood, the thud and clang of the blade, her hand still gripping it tightly as it landed at her feet.

Unarmed, and soon to pass out from lack of blood, the soldier walked up to her and wiped her blood from his weapon by dragging it across her heaving breasts.

Slowly, she slumped forward, her vision blurring. She heard her knees strike the hard stone floor, yet she felt nothing. In her fading vision, she saw Hig, his own eyes closed forever. In that briefest of moments, she was glad that he didn't have to see her die; it would have broken his heart.

The dark swiftly encroaches, and she is back in the jungle. She and Hig are by the dead beast; his first kill with the long-knife. They are making sweet, unbridled, extremely passionate love, and they will never stop. Never stop...

### **10**

There was no sensation of time, yet he was in a dark, tight space. They were fighting the pale-skinned soldiers and he'd been wounded. Khan was dead, and Jun, too. His own wound was serious; he didn't think he would live. Yet, he couldn't leave Lurde behind; he had seen firsthand the cruelty that their attackers were capable of.

His memory was fresh; he remembered every detail as if it were still happening. They were boxed in, heavily outnumbered, there wasn't any chance of escape, and they had let their fellow tribe members down.

Lurde!

What became of Lurde? Was she taken prisoner? As quickly as the thought came to him, he dismissed it; he saw how easily they dispatched with Sergeant Layton, and he was one of their own. He had to assume that unless they put a higher value on women, she was dead too.

Too?

As absurd as the thought seemed, it sent his mind reeling. Why did he include himself with the dead, when he was alive, here, in the flesh? And yet, he had just thought of himself as one of the dead from the battle in the tunnel.

He'd suffered a gravely serious wound; of that much, he was convinced. But he hadn't died! He couldn't have!

So where was he?

With flexibility in his joints and limbs that he hadn't experienced in years, he slowly raised his head. There was a faint stiffness that was reminiscent of what he felt after a long sleep. It was hardly worthy of note, and it quickly dissipated.

Looking around, he was aghast with awe and wonder at the strange surroundings in which he found himself. He was lying in a softly cushioned box-like container with a transparent lid. Though the lid restricted the height to which he could raise his head, it was sufficiently tall to permit a thorough study of the well-lit room that he was in. When he raised his hand to push against the lid, he discovered that he was connected to a myriad of tubes and wires. To his dismay and frustration, he discovered an even greater number entering his body in various places, not the least of which was the end of his penis.

Yet, he felt no fear. Thinking clearer than he had for longer than he could remember, he thought to himself that if they had wanted him dead, he would be dead.

Subconsciously, he ran his hand searchingly over the front of his chest, feeling for the wound that had incapacitated him; there was none! Instead of a huge gaping gash, he felt only smooth, firm flesh, and well sculpted muscles!

Almost frantically, he raised his right arm and held it steadily before his gaze, studying the thick visible veining. His first thought was that it wasn't his arm; he hadn't possessed muscles and sinews like these since he'd been in his prime.

He was suddenly scared, and yet, he couldn't help but marvel over the change that had befallen him, if it indeed was him. Fearfully anxious, he lowered his arm and looked about the room. His eyes were clear, not rheumy, and he could see other boxes and other people, some of whom he recognized, others that he didn't.

His mind was trying desperately to rationalize what his sharper eyesight perceived; it was beyond comprehension. He was in one of many similar boxes set atop small platforms. Each box was connected with numerous tubes and wires, all of which seemed to run into a room adjacent to this one. He could see into the adjacent room because the wall separating the two rooms was lined with a long, clear pane of glass, probably the same material as the lid on the box.

Inside the room were rows after rows of dials and knobs. In addition, both rooms were brightly lit by long rows of recessed, fluorescent lights. To his dismay, he discerned only one door to the room in which he found himself; a barely visible outline that closely matched the surrounding walls, all seemingly constructed of the same smooth white, opaque material. Where the door led, Hig had no idea. But it led out of here, and that was enough for now.

There was another, more obvious doorway, but it simply connected the two rooms.

Was this the afterlife?

Without realizing what he was doing, he pinched the foreskin on his manhood, and felt a sharp bite of pain. If this were the afterlife, would he feel pain? He didn't think so, or at least, he didn't want to believe so. Such notions didn't fit in with his preconceived idea of the afterlife. This had to be something else. But what?

And how long had he been here?

Even if he'd been here long enough for his wound to heal, it didn't explain the fine suppleness of his skin, and the taut, pent-up strength of the muscles lying just beneath it.

Almost on cue, his eyes turned down to his chest, looking for the scar tissue that should be there. He squirmed, a new fear creeping down his spine, a fresh bead of perspiration breaking out above his brow.

His heart racing, he reached up and pressed against the clear cover above his head. To his amazement, it floated upward and out, offering almost no resistance. Was it his strength, which felt awkward after all these years of decline, or was it the hydraulic hinge mechanism that secured the lid to the box.

Whichever it was, it didn't hold his interest but for a fleeting moment before he pulled wildly at the wires and tubes restraining him. Something, or rather, someone had caught his eye.

His attention was abruptly brought back to the here and now when he pulled the tube that entered his penis. It hurt! And it didn't budge. In fact, the harder he pulled, the firmer it remained lodged within him. Frantic to get free of the box, he clasped his genitals in his left hand, and with his right holding the tube securely, gave a sharp jerk. Pain shot up his penis, burning into his stomach like a hot poker; the tube was non-negotiable.

Gasping for breath, he waited until the pain subsided, and then he grasped the tube with both hands and pulled it toward him, being careful not to apply any pressure to the penis end. To his surprise, it came away easily from its connection to the box. He quickly made a mental to find a knife at a later time and simply cut the hose to a shorter length. Until then, he could live with it.

With extreme ease, he vaulted out of the box and landed softly on the pads of his feet. Looking down at his short stature, he was surprised again at the sinewy, yet supple form of his body. With the exception of the clear tube extending from his penis and stopping just short of the floor, he couldn't remember a time when he'd looked better or felt so good.

He was absorbed in studying the new body in which he found himself, when he suddenly remembered the anxious moment that he'd felt while still entrapped in the box. Forgetting his self-examination for the time being, he hurried around the box and headed toward the far wall.

When he reached the correct box, he stared in awe at the sleeping face within. Though she looked familiar, he suddenly doubted himself. She was beautiful. And though she possessed many of the same traits that he'd found so irresistible in Lurde, he wasn't sure it was the same woman. Yet, when he looked down at his own younger, more virile body, why couldn't the same have happened to her?

He wanted to open the lid and touch her, to wake her up and show her the new him. But even more than that, he wanted to make love to her, to celebrate their newfound youth together. His juices were flowing hot through his veins, and as he studied the beautiful woman in the box before him, his desire quickly grew to new bounds. How they had come to be in this strange place seemed unimportant. Whether they were dead or alive was irrelevant. They would be together again very soon, and nothing else was relevant.

But what if his opening of the lid caused her harm, could he take that risk?

"Oh Lurde, what should I do?" he cried, leaning against the transparent lid.

He was looking longingly at her, when he thought he saw her eyelid flutter. Was it just his imagination? Or was she coming around?

Softly, he tapped against the clear lid separating them. "Lurde," he whispered cautiously, conscious of many imaginary eyes turning toward him.

There! He saw it again. She was stirring. Anxiously, his fingers groped along the edge of the lid, searching for purchase. Afraid to take his eyes from her, his hands groped wildly, and then came to rest on a handle. Without thinking beyond the moment, he thrust the lid upward. It opened with a loud whoosh, fighting the hydraulics of the hinges.

The inrush of air fluttered her hair, and then her eyes slowly opened as she came out of a deep sleep. She gasped, and Hig's heart lurched. Then she coughed for a moment as the first inrush of air set her lungs into motion, and her body remembered how to breathe. For the briefest of moments, Hig feared he'd done her harm by opening the lid, and then immediately realized that he hadn't.

Her eyes, still groggy with sleep, slowly adjusted to the bright lights above them before coming to rest on Hig's face.

A smile erupted on her face, and Hig discovered that she was even more beautiful than he had thought was humanly possible.

"You're beautiful," were the first words to spill out of his dumbstruck mouth.

"You're not so bad yourself," she softly replied.

She started to rise, and discovered the tubes and wires connecting her to the box. Quickly, Hig reached in and pressed her gently back against the ticking, his fingers brightly aware of the smooth silkiness of her skin, and the firmness of her upturned breasts.

"Wait a moment while I undo these," he said, indicating the myriad of tubes and wires running in and out of her body while becoming acutely aware of an uncomfortable situation developing below his own waist.

Ignoring his discomfort as best he could, he set to work on the assortment of wires first. Then, almost reluctantly because he knew of the discomfort that would come from it, he started on the hoses. To a mixture of dismay and pleasure, he opted to remove the two smaller tubes entering the center of each aureole. While holding the breast firmly with one hand, he first wiggled, and then gently pulled on the tube. Unlike the tube in his penis, he had little trouble removing the pair from her firm, sensuous breasts.

Next, he concentrated on the larger tubes entering her vagina and anal canal. To his delight, these also slid easily from her, inflicting little in the way of discomfort. The remaining tubes, connected to various veins and arteries, were also of the smaller diameter, and he hurriedly removed them with little effort, causing her no discomfort.

Leaning outward with her hands firmly on his shoulders for support, she suddenly sprang upward and out, landing lithely on her feet. Hig, all thought of his immediate discomfort forgotten, grabbed the young Lurde in his masculine arms and pulled her tightly into his embrace. To his delight, he noticed that she was substantially shorter than he remembered, and then with even more glee, realized that she wasn't shorter, he was taller.

In his youth, he hadn't stooped, and his bones hadn't compressed from carrying the burden of the world on his shoulders. Yet, his decreasing stature had evolved so slowly over such a long period of time that he hadn't been aware of it.

Holding her out at arm's length, he studied her full, firm breasts, and the lean muscles of her thighs. And though he didn't intend to take her, his manhood rose and leaned out toward the lusty beauty that stood before him.

Lurde, standing back, her mind racing with questions, caught her breath at the sight of the man that stood holding her hands. He was taller, meatier, and unbent, in more ways than one. He was much more man than she ever dreamed him to have been. He was beautiful, and she could feel her body wanting him, though, like him, she wasn't thinking it. It was a desire that stemmed from deep within their subconscious minds, and they had matters of more importance to attend to at the moment than the simple act of bestial gratification.

Although they found each other extremely attractive and virile, they had no way of knowing that their hormones were racing wildly, trying hard to adjust to their recycled bodies. As the heat of the moment passed, Hig slowly became aware of the growing discomfort in his groin. In the excitement of finding Lurde alive and well, actually better than just well, he had completely forgotten about the tube that was still wedged up his penis. Lurde, following his gaze downward, noticed the clear tube emerging from his manhood for the first time.

"Here," she said softly, her voice husky with emotion. Letting his hands fall to his sides, she reached for his still erect member and slowly stroked it. With gentle persuasion, she pulled and pushed until he was breathing hard.

"Go ahead," she said lustily, her breasts brushing against his chest as she drew him closer. "Let go."

Though he felt a burning pain all the way to his stomach, he couldn't hold back, he was going to come.

Without thinking, he slid his hands around her curving hips and grabbed her buttocks. "No," she murmured, her breath coming in short, rapid mouthfuls.

Before he understood her, he came, and she worked him even harder, forcing the tube to move between each convulsion of his orgasm. It hurt, and it felt wonderful, a spicy mixture of pain and pleasure. And then it was free, and she was kissing him, her mouth hot and moist on his, her tongue flicking over his lips, searching within for more. She held his face between her hands and kissed him long and hard.

His hands were busy squeezing her ass, massaging it into compliant tenderness between his palms. She was moaning and rocking in rhythm to his bruising massage, begging for more as she cocked a firm calf behind his, trying to draw him nearer to her. He was suddenly aware of her quivering flesh, her body spending itself against him.

When she finally let go, Hig realized that she'd also come. But more importantly, the tube and the pain were gone. Nothing remained but a dull throbbing deep within the pit of his stomach; he wanted more!

They were covered in sweat and perspiration, despite the relative coolness of the room. And though it had been only scant seconds since Hig awoke in the bed-shaped box, it felt much longer. Replacing his spent lust was a sense of urgency, making him feel that they'd spent too much time enjoying their newly found youth. The raging hormonal action within their systems was stabilizing, and common sense was returning.

"Find the others," he said urgently, brusquely pulling away from her.

Lurde looked around the room for the first time. Up until that moment, it had been enough to have Hig; her mind wasn't ready for anything more. She squinted against the bright light and the white walls, focusing instead on the dull gray boxes that were lined up from one end of the room to the other. Moving slowly, she went along the rows, looking into each box as she came to it. Most of the faces were unrecognizable, and many more than not were pale skinned, though clearly not warriors; they were much shorter of build, some barely three feet tall, stockier.

"Hig!" she suddenly called softly. "Over here, it's Jun."

Hig hurried over to where she was standing looking in at the still form of Jun. Feeling along the edge until his hand found the handle, he quickly pushed upward on the lid. With a whoosh, it lifted on its hydraulics, exposing Jun to the open air.

"Jun," he said hesitantly, pressing gently against the side of his neck.

He could feel a pulse, yet Jun didn't move.

"Is he alive?" Lurde anxiously questioned him, almost pleading.

"He lives, but he is weak."

Hig was torn with indecision. Although Lurde and he had come out of the boxes with no ill side effects, he felt troubled about removing Jun from his. This was all new to him. He sensed that the boxes were responsible for Lurde's and his newfound youth, in addition to recovering from their wounds, which he now felt convinced had been fatal. So, was it safe to take Jun from his box, or was it too soon?

"What should we do?" asked Lurde, abruptly waking him from his dilemma.

"We'll leave him for now, but we'll leave the lid up so we can find him again without much searching. In the meantime, let's see if we can find any of the others."

They continued in opposite directions, each hesitant to leave Jun behind. Hig found the next familiar face, Khan.

"Lurde, over here."

By the time Lurde worked her way back to him, he had the lid open and was pulling tubes and wires from a groggily stirring Khan.

"It's Khan," she said, sounding relieved. "How is he?"

"He's coming around. I think he'll be fine."

Khan looked up at Hig and squinted, not sure he could believe what he was seeing. Then, slowly, a smile crept up his lips, and he turned and saw Lurde for the first time. If there was any doubt as to who he was looking at when he saw Hig, there wasn't any with regard to Lurde; he recognized her right off, and he came excitedly out of the box.

Hig felt an immediate pang of jealousy when he saw the way Khan was leering at Lurde. The lust was evident in his eyes and in his manhood. To his dismay, he easily noticed that Lurde was flattered by the attention Khan was giving her.

"How do you feel, Khan?" she asked of him, her voice sounding like that of a young girl, which Hig had to readily admit, she really wasn't much more than.

"I've never felt so good," he almost boasted, unable to take his eyes from her. "Is it really you, Lurde?" he asked incredulously.

"Yes," she shyly replied. "And look at Hig," she quickly added, suddenly aware of Hig's frowning demeanor and wanting to divert Khan's lusty appreciation of her body away from herself.

Reluctantly, Khan turned to face Hig, and a new awareness came into his expression; he was no longer looking at the bent-over, frail old man that he could overpower with ease. Instead, he was facing a formidable opponent. He made a mental note to conceal his thoughts toward Lurde in the future. At least until he knew whether she would willingly return them without Hig's knowledge.

"You look good, Hig," he barely mumbled. Then, his voice more forceful, he asked, "Do you know where we are and what happened to us?"

Turning away from him, Hig answered over his shoulder, "We'll turn our attention to the questions later. For now, let's see if we can find any of the others."

He heard Lurde telling Khan that they found Jun, but that they didn't feel it wise to wake him yet. Then, each of them went in different directions. Hig watched furtively from farther down the row, and didn't like the lingering stare Khan gave Lurde's backside as she moved away from him. He would have to keep an eye on Khan in the future. Even if Lurde found his attentions flattering, Hig was sure that Khan wanted only one thing from her.

Khan was the next to yell out his find, but before Lurde and Hig could reach him, a wall near the other room suddenly swished open and several warriors entered waving long-knives.

The warriors were followed by an extremely obese man and two other men that were clearly his assistants. While the warriors took up posts on either side of the entrance, the obese man entered the adjacent room and turned his attention to the control knobs and dials.

His two assistants went to the nearest box and started disconnecting the occupant's wires and tubes. They moved with astounding speed and in less than a minute were on to the next box.

Hig and Lurde moved stealthily behind the boxes until they caught up with Khan, whom was doing likewise. With the soldiers standing guard at the door, there was little chance of escape. Yet, they were adamant to surrender! They had seen the cruelty that the soldiers were capable of first hand, and they wouldn't go down without a fight.

"What do we do now?" Lurde asked with no sign of fear in her voice.

"We need to find weapons before they find us," Hig easily replied. They were fit and healthy. They felt almost indestructible. It was a feeling that Hig knew could get them killed, but he was loath to resist it.

Khan slowly raised his head to see where the assistants were, and then settled back to his haunches. Hig didn't like the look on his face and asked him what he'd seen. "They're almost to your empty box. They'll be raising the alarm any minute."

Lurde jumped to her feet and set off down the aisle of boxes, whispering as she went, "Then we'd better get a move on."

Hig was up and running with an ease he couldn't remember ever having possessed. He quickly overtook her, and put a hand on her shoulder to let her know.

When she reached the end of the aisle, she turned to the right, away from the windowed room. Hig, glancing over his shoulder, noticed that the two assistants were only two boxes away from the one he'd previously occupied. They were almost out of time.

Lurde pulled up abruptly. Hig quickly noted that it was in front of the box she'd previously occupied. For reasons unknown, they had lowered the lids after vacating the boxes, only Jun's remained open. Because they'd closed their boxes behind them, there wasn't any way for them to access the inside without risking being seen.

Hig sensed Lurde's disappointment at the discovery of the closed lid, and said, "If it's worth the risk, let's do it. I'll watch and tell you when."

She smiled, nodding her assent.

Raising his head just high enough to see over the adjoining boxes, Hig waited until both assistants were busy reaching into the one they were currently working. He noted that it was the last box before his own. There wasn't anything he could do about the soldiers by the door, or the fat man in the adjacent room. He could only hope they were preoccupied for the moment.

"Now," he whispered anxiously.

Turning, he grabbed the handle and lifted the lid, pushing against the resistance of the hydraulics to make it open faster. The noise was tremendous to his ears, and he was sure they would be heard, if not seen.

Within a moment, Lurde, having leaned into the box, ducked back out; she was holding something small and inconspicuous in her hand.

Looking anxiously toward her, his question written all over his face, she said, "Here," handing him the object.

He eagerly accepted it, assuming only that it was something he could use for a weapon, though he doubted anything so small would be of consequence against the superior long-knives that the warriors by the door held.

Turning it over in his hand, he studied it for a moment, his face plainly showing his inner disappointment. When he couldn't discern what to do with it, he finally asked, "What is it?"

"It doesn't matter," she simply replied.

"But how can we use it against the soldiers if we don't even know what it is?" he asked disheartened.

"It's a fitting from the box," remarked Khan, speaking as if that was the answer to all of Hig's questions.

Before Lurde could explain further, one of the assistants started yelling for the soldiers to search the room; they'd discovered the empty box!

"Here," said Lurde suddenly, reaching for the object.

Before he could resist, she had taken the object back and was holding it within her closed fist. Unarmed and outnumbered, there was little they could do in the way of resisting. It was quickly determined that they would be better off if they surrendered, and wait for another opportunity to escape. Khan further suggested that they should be obedient of their captors and that they should try to earn their trust. Hig didn't want to go along with him, but for Lurde's sake, he reluctantly agreed.

Standing upright, Khan yelled out to draw the soldier's attention. Spreading out to block any possibility of escape, the soldiers approached from either end of the aisle. Lurde noticed that none remained by the open door except for the fat man, and he had just come out of the adjacent room to see what the commotion was. He quickly took note that the soldiers had the situation under control and turned to head back into the other room.

The first soldier to reach them timed his advance so that his counterpart from the other end of the aisle arrived at the same time. With his weapon held out in front of him, his metal breastplate gleaming with the crest of his lord and master across the front, he roughly grunted and jabbed, indicating for them to move single file away from him.

The soldier that had approached from the other side, walked backwards, setting the pace. Lurde, the nearest to him, led the way. When they reached the end of the aisle, the soldier walking backwards turned around, intending to lead them back toward the door, or maybe the adjacent room. Whichever his intent, Lurde didn't intend to wait around and see.

Moving with a grace that she had forgotten she possessed as a young girl, she jabbed the fitting that she held tightly in her fist between the soldier's ribcage and his breastplate. She could feel the flesh tear as she forced it with all of her youthful strength. Surprised, more than injured, the soldier jerked around, the unexpected dose of pain sending him reeling.

Lurde knew full well that she couldn't kill anyone with the small metal fitting, but the soldier didn't know that. He was aware only of the fact that he'd been stabbed and that he was bleeding heavily. Making his dilemma even worse, the wound was beneath his armor where he couldn't reach it or readily inspect it, which was exactly what Lurde had intended.

Hig, understanding that Lurde didn't have the capability of killing with what she possessed, realized that it was only a distraction and that she was counting on him and Khan to use it to their advantage.

When the soldier screamed, his comrades quickly ran to his aid, hastily making the assumption that the woman was armed and dangerous. Though the wound Lurde inflicted was nothing more than a flesh wound, the soldier reacted as if he'd been stabbed through the groin with a long-knife. As the other soldiers moved forward to help their wounded comrade, they lost focus of their other charges, Hig and Khan.

Moving with the grace and agility he hadn't known since he was young, Hig leaped upward and bounded over the closed lid of an occupied box, the inhabitant of which was still sleeping soundly. Running forward, he launched himself feet first from the end of the box. In the split second before his feet connected with the soldier facing Lurde, the soldier glanced up and saw Hig soaring toward him.

Too late, he tried to change the trajectory of his weapon. Lurde, not seeing Hig coming over her left shoulder, only knew that the soldier standing in front of her was about to slash his weapon across her throat, and there was nowhere to run!

Not about to give up so easily, though, she dropped to her haunches, drawing her knees up under herself so that she could easily spring back up. She was startled when a dark shadow passed over her head, and the soldier standing in front of her suddenly collapsed backwards, Hig riding him to the floor.

The soldier's head hit the hard white floor with a thud, which was immediately followed by the sharp crunch of shattered neck bones as his face was twisted viciously sideways from the weight of Hig's firm young body. Even before the soldier's body came to rest, the long-knife shot free of his grasp, landing on the floor with a clang after narrowly missing Lurde's bare lap.

Hig, still on his feet, turned and ducked, just narrowly avoiding a sweeping blow from another soldier's weapon. Before he could put any distance between the soldier and himself, a third soldier advanced from his right, cutting off any chance of escaping.

But unbeknownst to the soldiers, escape was the farthest thing from Hig's mind. At least so long as Lurde remained in the room.

While the soldiers moved to position themselves between their quarry and the open door, Hig quickly surveyed the situation. To his surprise and delight, he noted that the fat man and his assistants were retreating through the opening that also represented their own escape route. Like Hig, the soldiers were also aware of the fat man's hasty departure, and quickly retreated from in front of him, moving instead into positions before the open doorway. In Hig's mind that just meant there were that many less soldiers in their immediate path to contest.

With the soldier's hasty withdrawal to the door, came a momentary respite in the battle. In the lull, Hig noticed that Khan hadn't moved. Whether this was out of fear or not, he couldn't be sure. Yet, the soldiers didn't advance on his position. They knew that one of their own was dead, and they knew that Lurde had delivered the first blow. But they didn't know how or what she'd done. And because they were leery of what they didn't know, they held their ground out of fearful respect.

Much to their good fortune, the soldier that she'd jabbed with the elongated fitting wasn't alive to tell his comrades that it had been nothing more than a trick, and if Lurde were to tell the tale, an awful lot of luck.

Hig's first concern in the calm of the moment was for Lurde, but when he turned to check on her, she was gone. Rising to his feet, the dead soldier's long-knife mysteriously in his grasp, he retreated down the aisle, away from the open door and the rallying soldiers. He reasoned that if she had gone anywhere else, she would have had to pass him and he would have seen her.

With mounting worry and concern, he raced past the immobile Khan, barely sparing him a glance. Then, suddenly realizing that Lurde would have had to pass him, he spun around and reached backwards, grabbing him brusquely by the shoulder.

"Which way did she go?" he sternly demanded, his heart pounding mercilessly in his chest as he thought of all the terrible things that might be happening to her.

Khan only stared blankly into space, his eyes not focusing on anything that Hig could discern. Angered, Hig threw him backwards, hard, driving him up against the box behind him. Pressing his forearm into Khan's throat so that the man was struggling to breathe, Hig was quickly disappointed by Khan's lack of response. Adding to his mounting annoyance, the man didn't even resist. In fact, he didn't even struggle hard enough to get the air he so desperately needed to remain conscious. To Hig, Khan appeared to have given up, his mind vacating his youthful body. The shock of everything was more than he could comprehend, and his mind had shut down, retreating to a place and time where it felt everything was normal; a safe place. If Hig could see what Khan was seeing, he would recognize the dense green foliage immediately.

Hig felt a momentary twang of pity, which quickly gave way to contempt. He and Lurde had been through the same traumatic events as Khan, and yet, they refused to surrender; they were made of tougher stuff, or so he believed.

But if he'd had more time to consider it, he might have felt different about the way Khan reacted to the shock. He might have had more empathy toward the man. After all, Khan wasn't an old man that had secretly wished he were young enough to enjoy a full life with a vibrant woman like Lurde. There could be no discounting the power of love, and the knowledge that they were together against all odds. Hig, in essence, had just had his wish granted, and was more than conscious of the fact.

Pushing off from the unresponsive man, Hig hurried along the aisle, only occasionally throwing a furtive glance over the rows of boxes to check on the location of the soldiers. Each time he did, he noted with satisfaction that they were holding their position; one that prevented any egress from the room in which they found themselves.

When he reached the end of the aisle, he turned left, working his way toward the far end of the adjacent room. As he passed the end of each consecutive aisle, he eagerly glanced up it, hoping to find Lurde. As he approached the last aisle, he suddenly worried that he'd searched in the wrong direction. There was only one aisle beyond the one he'd began the search in that she might have gone. Now, as he neared the last row, he tried to understand why she would have gone the other way. It surprised him to think that he hadn't even considered it when he started looking. It would have taken but a few seconds to glance up it.

Worrying that she might have gone the other way in hopes of flanking the soldiers at the entrance, he suddenly realized that she might be waiting for him to draw their attention. It was a foolhardy idea, and yet, it explained her disappearance. But would she have embarked on it without apprising him beforehand?

Hig wasn't a fool, and he fully realized that her earlier attack had only been successful because she had the element of surprise. She hadn't seriously wounded the soldier she'd stabbed, only surprised and injured him. It was his own fortunate and spontaneous aerial attack that had killed the man, which was, in all honesty, nothing more than a desperate move on his part to save Lurde.

But he had come to the last aisle, and there was nothing more to do but investigate it. Crouching low so that the soldiers couldn't pinpoint his location, he cast a furtive glance around the end box, exposing his head and face to the soldiers near the entrance for just the briefest of moments.

"Lurde!" he involuntarily gasped.

Halfway down the aisle, between him and the soldiers, Lurde was frantically trying to herd a small group of young people toward him. Or, at least they appeared as youthful charges. Hig realized immediately that they were the occupants of the boxes that the fat man and his assistants had removed before the soldiers discovered his small group of preemies.

Even as he looked on, two of the soldiers separated themselves from the others and headed toward her and her charges. He could tell their intentions by their stolid advance and the set of their weapons. What the boxes had performed in the way of giving life, these two intended to take back.

Hig watched as Lurde struggled with the confused and disoriented people. He also noticed that she was oblivious of the advancing soldiers.

Rising to his feet, he started marching forward, his pace just a slightly bit faster than that of the soldiers. He intended to reach the soldiers only after Lurde and the small group were safely past him.

When the two soldiers saw Hig step out from behind the last box, their step faltered. They were still leery of Lurde and the strange way that she could inflict wounds through their armor. And they were even more leery of what a warrior with a long-knife was capable.

Yet, they weren't afraid to die, and now Hig understood the reason why. To these soldiers, death was only a minor inconvenience. To Hig and Lurde, and all the other surface dwellers that ended up here, death meant a lost chance to escape, and only then if the powers-that-be decided to recycle them a second time.

Of course, Hig wasn't sure if a body could be recycled more than once, he only assumed this because he'd witnessed the shocking killing of Sergeant Layton by his own people.

But all these thoughts and more were taking a back seat to the immediate problem at hand. He was about to confront two equally armed, but better-trained soldiers, than he. His only hope lay in the fact that he now possessed all the strength and agility that came with youth, while retaining his age-acquired and hard-won knowledge. It would have to be enough.

Lurde glanced up and saw him advancing toward her. A smile immediately lit up her face, and Hig was momentarily disoriented by her striking beauty. He missed a step, but then quickly regrouped. In her frenzied effort to keep the disoriented group moving in the right direction, she hadn't noticed the soldiers closing in on her rear. Hig felt certain that even if she had, she wouldn't have abandoned the others in an effort to save herself.

When they were abreast of each other, he threw her a wink and told her to keep them moving. One in the group looked inquisitively at him, trying hard to put a name with the face and drawing only a blank. If Hig was disappointed with them, he didn't show it. But he wasn't. They were only human, and they'd just suffered a tremendous blow to their psyche. Given time, they would come around to accept what had happened to them. In the meantime, their safety depended on him and Lurde; it was that simple.

When he was little more than ten feet past the last of Lurde's group, he stopped and firmly planted his feet. Here he would make his stand. With the long-knife held level before him, the blade glinting white from the ceiling lights, he looked beyond it at the advancing soldiers. Grasping the hilt firmly with both hands, his elbows cocked out from his right shoulder, he challenged the two approaching soldiers with his eyes.

Though they studied him with a knowing eye, looking for chinks in his position and stance, both soldiers grew aware that he had only just recently acquired his fighter's stance. Their vast experience and years of training in the ways of combat gave them the knowledge to decipher what Hig only knew from brief observations and imitating. His newfound knowledge with the long-knife came from observing the soldiers they had fought previously in the tunnel.

But while the advancing soldiers were deciphering Hig's limited knowledge of hand-to-hand combat with the long-knife, Hig was determining that simply imitating their fighting style wouldn't help him in the battle that was about to ensue. He would have to be original, and yet, deadly effective, if he intended to come out the victor.

When the soldiers were less than ten feet from him, he threw a furtive glance over his shoulder to assure himself that Lurde was safely away. Then he turned his attention fully on the men that faced him.

"Let's do this thing," he hissed under his breath.

"We don't wish to harm you," the soldier standing on the right suddenly stated, startling Hig. "If you give yourself over to us and surrender the weapon, you will not be punished. If you don't, we will have to kill you."

He said it so casually and with such confidence that Hig was momentarily thrown off balance.

"And what will become of us, if we surrender?" he asked, trying hard to hide the tension in his voice.

"That depends."

"On what?" he demanded, feeling a growing anger at the soldier's refusal to take him seriously.

"That depends on who you are sold to," he stated irritably before pausing, his impatience with Hig evident in his voice and mannerisms.

It was clear to Hig that the soldier wanted nothing more than to kill him and get it over with, but that he had orders to take the prisoners alive if at all possible. It was even clearer to Hig that the soldier wasn't afraid to die in the process, almost as if death was a common occurrence for them.

Smiling, the same soldier casually remarked, "You, I would recommend to Lord Thar. He is always in need of strong bodies to work the iron mines." He paused for a moment, lasciviously licking his lips before continuing, "That woman, now, I would take her for my own if we were allowed to own slaves. But since we aren't," he continued, exaggerating disappointment, "she will probably find her way to Lord Balzar's domain." He openly laughed, showing a mouth of straight white teeth. "Of course, when Lord Balzar finishes with a woman, she becomes community property, and then we all get our turn with her."

"The hell you will!" Hig suddenly hissed through his teeth, as he dropped the weapon low and threw himself at their feet.

Taken completely off guard, he was kneeling directly in front of them before they could react, his weapon viciously flailing from side to side. Blood splattered wildly about him as the sound of splintering bones could be heard amid their combined screams of pain. The two soldiers were swept of their feet; their shins and ankles hacked to bits and spit out by Hig's torrential rain of blows.

They fell writhing to the floor, their own weapons flailing ineffectually at the ends of their arms. Neither was trying to strike his attacker, only ward him off, trying desperately to stop the assault and end the pain.

But Hig wasn't finished. The soldier writhing on the right had fueled his anger, and it hadn't spent itself yet. Being careful to avoid their blades, he stood almost over the soldier's face, looking down at him. He was only vaguely aware of movement to his left, beyond the nearest row of boxes.

"Tell me how to get back to the surface, and I will let you live," he offered.

To his amazement and chagrin, the soldier only laughed at him. With a sudden surge of anger, Hig drove his blade down, hard against the metal armor covering the man's chest. Though it hardly scratched the insignia etched between the molded nipples, the force knocked the wind out of him. Hig looked on in silence as the soldier's face turned a bright shade of crimson and he struggled to catch his breath.

Keeping a careful eye on the wounded soldier lying next to him, Hig slowly moved the tip of his blade downward, dragging it over the molded metal of the soldier's breastplate until it came to rest directly in the man's naval.

Holding the weapon with his left hand, his right hovered over the hilt, threatening to hammer it down and drive the point through his guts.

"I don't know anymore about getting to the surface than you do," the soldier quickly replied, sensing that there wasn't anything to gain but more pain by not co-operating, and he was only human; he feared pain as much if not more than any other man.

Death was another matter entirely. If they were killed, it was a simple matter to recycle them back to their original health. But pain could only be avoided by a conscious effort on their part, an effort they were quick to exercise.

Hig found to his amazement that he believed him. Without moving the point of his weapon from where it rested precariously over the man's naval, he turned toward the other soldier, whom had remained quiet until this point. "And you?" he demanded of him.

Mutely, the soldier rolled his head from side to side, the pain bringing tears to his eyes.

"Then tell me," Hig went on almost casually, "who would know how to get to the surface?"

This time the mute soldier spoke before the other could respond. Already, his complexion was even pastier than their normal pale tone of skin could hide, and he was covered in cold perspiration. His voice quivered when he spoke. "Sergeant Layton," he blurted. "He leads the squads that retrieve the raw material from the surface."

"Raw material?"

"Yes," the soldier stuttered, clearly going into shock. "The bodies and prisoners that the surface rogues bring here to trade for iron and weapons."

Hig noticed that the soldier lying beneath the point of his blade had drifted into unconsciousness. Looking at the soldier that had just given him the information he asked for, he could see that it wouldn't be long before he slipped into unconsciousness, also. If there were any other questions that he felt the soldier might be capable of answering, he needed to get them asked. Yet, as he wracked his brains, all he could think of was, "Where is Sergeant Layton?"

But he waited too long. If the young soldier knew, he was beyond telling him. It was time to rejoin Lurde.

Bending over, he quickly retrieved the soldier's fallen weapons. With a last glance in the direction of the door, he reaffirmed that the remaining soldiers were still at their station. Then he turned and retreated back along the aisle.

As he turned the corner, he saw a fleeting figure disappearing down the farthest aisle. He hastily assumed that it was just a stray from Lurde's group, straggling behind the others, and didn't give it anymore thought. With his weapon held in his right hand, and the two extra long-knives in his left, he hurried after Lurde.

He had taken only three steps, when a figure lunged out of the first aisle, tackling him from the side and knocking him off balance.

Khan!

He recognized his assailant immediately. But why would Khan attack him? Had he completely lost his mind?

Acting out of instinct, Hig rolled with the momentum, landing neatly on his feet. With a crash and clang of metal against metal, the two extra weapons slid across the floor until they came to an abrupt rest against the nearest wall.

But Khan was young and quick, too. And before Hig could separate himself from him, Khan was wrapping his arms around Hig's chest, forcing him backwards, and making it impossible for Hig to bring the long bladed weapon to bear on him.

In the back of Hig's mind, he wondered why an underground dwelling people that lived in such close proximity to the walls surrounding them would choose such an open-field weapon when they had sufficient metal to forge anything their mind could imagine or their heart desire.

But the thought was only fleeting, and then his entire attention was focused on Khan.

With the strength of a crazed man, Khan squeezed his arms increasingly tighter, driving the air from Hig's chest and lungs.

"Khan!"

At the sound of Lurde's voice, the strength in his arms subsided for a moment. It wasn't much, but it was enough for Hig to free his left arm. And before Khan could react to it, Hig popped him on the side of the head with a closed fist, mashing Khan's ear and spraying himself with blood and cartilage.

"Stop!" screamed Lurde as she ran toward them, her fists pummeling Khan's exposed back.

But Khan had already stopped, the shock of the pain from Hig's blow snapping him out of whatever had possessed him. Ignorant of Lurde's pummeling fists, he dropped his arms to his sides and took a step back, his face unable to hide his fractured emotions.

Looking crestfallen and ashamed, he mumbled, "I'm sorry."

Lurde was distraught and crying, her arms no longer able to hold up her fists. Ignoring Khan, who drifted past him and slumped against the wall, he wrapped Lurde in his embrace and held her tightly.

"It'll be all right," he said softly, consolingly.

Surprising Hig by her elasticity, she immediately stopped crying and wiped her forearm across her face. Sounding even more confident than Hig, she solemnly agreed, "I know."

Khan, turning back to face them, humbly muttered, "I'm sorry, Hig."

Before he could say anymore, Hig replied, "It's all right. You're over it and we're ready to move on."

"Did you learn anything?" Lurde blurted with an anxious note in her voice.

"Only that we need to find Sergeant Layton," he glumly replied, his doubts at accomplishing the task clearly evident.

"He's over there," said Khan, his voice rising with enthusiasm. "I remember seeing him earlier."

"Show us," Hig anxiously commanded.

Before Khan moved, though, he stooped over and retrieved the fallen long-knives. Then, as he passed Lurde, he handed one to her with the simple statement, "I believe you're more than capable."

Hig noted the mixed expression on her face. She was torn between flattery, and a grim understanding of the source. She found herself wishing that she didn't have to know anyone as well as she had come to know Khan. And then, all in the next breath, she was ever so thankful that she had come to know Hig as well as she had. In a mysterious sort of way, it all balanced out, or so she reasoned.

Hig followed Khan and Lurde into the same aisle of boxes where Lurde had just recently left the group that she'd gathered together. As they approached, the one that had eyed Hig earlier suddenly broke out in a smile and spurted, "You're Hig, aren't you?"

Hig couldn't immediately grasp the significance of the young man's statement, and then it came to him. This man that had suddenly recognized him hadn't seen him since before the raid on their village. He knew Hig only as a frail, bent-over old man, not the young buck that he was now, or had been many years prior.

"Yes, he is," Lurde proudly stated, her face suddenly beaming.

"We owe you our lives," the man continued, his unwavering gaze making the short hairs on the back of Hig's neck stand on end.

"I'm sorry, but I haven't done anything for you, none of you!" Hig protested, not liking the sudden adoration or praise they were bestowing on him.

Lurde took his hand and whispered, "It's all right, Hig."

Pulling his hand back, he angrily fired back at her, "No, it's not all right! I did nothing to deserve their adulation." Stepping back from them, he nervously continued, his anger slowly abating, "You're all looking at me as if I'm your savior. Well I'm not!"

"Hig," said Lurde apprehensively. "No one is looking to you for any such thing. To imply that is to imply we aren't capable of taking care of ourselves! And though I can't speak for the others, I, for one, don't appreciate such lowly consideration."

She was clearly angry at the way he was handling the situation, yet he couldn't help himself. He would do whatever he could to see to their well-being, but he didn't want anything that wasn't due him, including praise!

Khan broke the uncomfortable silence that ensued. He had raised the lid of the box containing Layton's body and was waiting to remove the multitude of connections.

"I haven't done this before," he said nervously.

The man that recognized Hig from earlier turned and said, "I was watching the pale men earlier, let me."

Khan, relieved, stepped back to give the man room. Hig noticed that as he did, he gave the man a strange, bewildered look. Even before the man started disconnecting the tubes and wires from Layton's body, Khan moved so that he could study the man's face more intently.

Realizing that Khan was scrutinizing him, the man suddenly turned toward him and said, "Yes, you see something familiar, but you can't figure out what it is."

"I feel as though I know you, and yet, I don't recognize you," Khan softly replied.

"You know me as an old man. In fact, I was old when you were born. Does the name Sath bring back any memories, my son?"

Khan's faced immediately lit up with recognition. "Old Sath!" he exclaimed.

"Not so old, anymore, it would appear," he happily remarked, smiling back at Khan.

Lurde, overhearing their conversation, glanced at Hig. She was hoping that Khan had gotten past his breakdown, and that having found an old friend from the tribe would be enough to restore the hope and promise that they'd seen in him earlier. Hig smiled back at her, insinuating that he felt confident in Khan's return to normalcy. Yet, inside, he knew that he would have to keep a careful eye on him. He wasn't as optimistic as Lurde, or as willing to forgive and forget; the man had attacked him, after all! And if Khan had possessed anything more than his bare hands, he might be dead, again!

Within minutes, Sath had Layton sitting up and looking around. It was obvious, judging by the confused expression on his face, that he expected to be facing someone else. And though he didn't recognize the younger, more virile Hig, he immediately recognized Lurde, and his face lit up.

Having served, trained, and been involved in leadership for centuries, he guessed immediately that the young man in the center of the aisle standing next to Lurde was their leader. Moreover, he'd seen enough reactions between Lurde and a frail old man to realize that this young leader had to be one and the same.

It had to be Hig, the old man that had been leading the band of dissidents in the tunnel when they first met. He had a sharp memory when it involved others of rank, and an even keener sense of recognizing true leadership. He recognized those qualities in the man that stood before him now.

With assistance from Khan and Sath, he extricated himself from the recycling chamber, or box, as these surface dwellers referred to them.

"Khan, take Sath, see if you can help Jun," Hig asked of Khan in a tone that Layton recognized as an order, though the individual receiving it wouldn't necessarily recognize it as such.

When they'd left, Layton studied Lurde with all the appreciation given to a rare vintage of spirits. His eyes slowly devoured her, until he noticed that he was making her self-conscious. She wasn't annoyed by his attention, but rather the opposite. In her mind's eye, she was still an old woman. But Layton was a handsome young man, and he was studying her appraisingly enough to know that he liked what he saw. She also noticed the pink tinge around Hig's neckline, and instantly sensed that he didn't appreciate Layton's attention in the same way that she did.

Layton, aware of the situation, quickly apologized. "I'm sorry," he stammered nervously, still not quite able to take his eyes from her. "It's just that I am not used to seeing such beauty in these dark and drab tunnels. Please, forgive me."

"If you're wondering why we brought you out of the box," Hig started gruffly, his ire stirred even more by Layton's apology to Lurde. "It's because I was told that you can lead us to the surface."

Layton's attention turned serious, and his eyes met Hig's steely gaze; lust and desire vanished like a drying mist. "Who would tell you such a thing?" he suddenly demanded.

"One of your dead compatriots," replied Hig, emphasizing the word dead, though he suspected the soldiers were merely unconscious.

With a softening of his expression, Layton smiled back at him, saying, "I would think that you would understand the futility of death after the experience you just had."

Feeling a bit foolish for thinking he could intimidate Layton with the possible threat of death, he simply replied, "You do know the way back to the surface, though, and I mean to have it from you."

"There is no one way back to the surface," he sighed after a moment. "If I tell you of the shortest, most direct route, by the time you reach it the planet might have rotated enough to make it impassable. You could die of thirst while you wait for passages to cool enough to let you pass. Or you could take a single wrong turn and be lost forever, doomed to wander through the dark myriad of caverns and tunnels until you die of thirst or starvation."

"Then you will show us, lead us back to the surface where we belong!"

"I can't do that," he said resignedly. Nodding toward the soldiers still stationed at the door, he added, "If word reaches my commander, or our Lord, they will ban me from the recycler, or worse."

Sincerely, Hig asked of him, "What can you do for us?"

He looked nervously toward the soldiers standing just within the doorway. He took a deep breath and sighed. "If you can overpower the soldiers at the door, and get us out of here without being seen, I will lead you as far as I safely can. Then I will point you in the right direction, and leave you on your own." He paused for a moment before adding, "That is all I can do. Please don't try to make me do anymore, because I can't."

"I believe him, Hig," said Lurde suddenly. "If we try to make him do what he refuses, we will only turn the tenuous situation between us sour."

Khan and Sath came around the near end of the aisle leading a still-groggy Jun. Sath spoke first, "We tried explaining what had happened to us, but I'm not sure how much of it he has grasped."

Looking at Jun, Hig asked of him, "Will you be all right?"

Jun looked at him quizzically, trying to decipher who the man was that appeared to be their new leader. "It's Hig," offered Lurde, hoping to help him past his disorientation.

Jun's eyes suddenly lit up with recognition, and maybe even a small amount of relief, or so Hig thought. Sath and Khan looked questioningly at Hig, waiting to be told of what they missed in their absence.

Instead of wasting time explaining the situation, he asked of anyone that could help, "We need a plan to take out the soldiers by the door."

He was greeted with mute silence. He further noted that Layton was keeping his head down, out of sight from the soldier's line of vision. If Hig and the others failed to make good on their escape, he didn't want it known that he had assisted them in any way.

Hig shrugged his shoulders at the silence and casually stated, "Then we will just approach the problem head on."

This was the way he'd been confronting problems his entire life; there wasn't any reason for him to change now. When Leeta was mauled during the attack on their camp, he never considered that he should leave her behind to die. No one would have thought any less of him if he had; that was just the way things were. If you couldn't keep up with the tribe of your own accord, you were left behind, abandoned to die alone in the jungle.

Yet, Hig felt he owed Leeta more than that. She had produced a fine daughter for them, always doing her share and then some. He couldn't just leave her behind. So, in his straightforward manner, he fashioned a travois to accommodate her, and he never looked back. Even after meeting and falling in love with Lurde, he never regretted his devotion to Leeta. Though sometimes, in the darkest reaches of his mind where even he feared to probe, he wondered how much easier his life would have been if he had abandoned her and taken a new mate. Would he have been as happy with his life as he found himself now? At least, he held no regrets.

Striding past the others, he said to Layton, "You might want to remain here, out of sight, just in case things don't go so well."

Lurde, still in possession of a long-knife, quickly fell in behind Hig. When she reached Layton, she stopped. Meeting his gaze, she asked, "If we fail, will we be recycled again? And if we are, how long does the process last?"

"Of course you will be recycled," he stammered, momentarily thrown off by the question. "You're slaves. The next time, however, you won't get the opportunity to escape and create problems."

When he didn't answer her question regarding time, she immediately understood why, and asked instead, "What about the others?"

Looking down at the floor, he mumbled, "I don't know."

"Why?" she pressured him, growing confused by his lack of cooperation.

Raising his eyes to hers, he almost whispered when he finally spoke, "Because you have shown yourselves to be high risks."

"Yet, you know I'll be recycled, even though I have shown myself to be a risk, because there is value in the flesh of women," she heatedly finished.

"Beautiful women," he apologetically corrected her, while unable to keep his eyes from drifting down to her full breasts and rock-hard nipples. Between her mounting anger and the anticipation of the upcoming battle, she was experiencing a youthful rush of hormones mixed with adrenaline, a sensation she hadn't experienced in many years. She was extremely aroused.

Accepting the compliment for what it was, she nodded in acknowledgement, and then hurried to catch up with Hig. When they reached the end of the aisle, and there was nothing between them and the remaining soldiers near the exit, Hig stopped and turned to face her.

She had never looked so beautiful or so vibrant, and he didn't want to risk losing her. Sounding apologetic, and even a bit pathetic, he stammered, "Maybe you should consider lending your weapon to Sath."

With her feet planted firmly on the floor, and her hands braced on her curvaceous hips, she angrily stated, "Sath still thinks he's an old man, regardless of his youthful physique. I feel as young and healthy as I appear. If you don't feel that I'm capable of covering your back, then let me lead the charge."

Hig was momentarily taken aback by her affront. Then, after regarding her stoic posture and determination for a moment, he gave in to her resolve. "I'll lead, you cover my left flank. Khan will take the right."

She recognized the compliment that he'd given her and slowly relaxed, a tight smiling curling up the corner of her lip; his left flank was his most vulnerable, since he was right handed.

### **11**

With renewed hope and optimism, Hig turned toward the four remaining soldiers that were standing equally spaced in front of the exit, blocking their egress. He could see the determination in their eyes; they weren't afraid of dying. Their only fear lay in the possibility that if they failed, they might be punished by being denied recycling.

"Khan."

"Yes, Hig," he softly replied, his attention also on the four stolid soldiers.

"Keep pace with me and don't break rank. They have much more training at this than either you or I. We have to use that training against them."

"But if we keep pace with each other, we'll walk right into their weapons," he said incredulously.

Lurde remained quiet, her faith in Hig unshaken. She was waiting for the rest of his plan. And after hearing it, even if she felt there was fault with it, she would follow him blindly to her death, always believing until the end that Hig would ultimately lead them to safety.

"When I raise my weapon to strike, the two of you will spin out to either side while lunging forward. Keep your heads low and your weapons swinging. They'll be out-flanked before they can react."

"What will keep them from breaking apart and getting in between us?" Khan asked, his voice trembling slightly. Whether this was from anxious anticipation or fear, Hig wasn't sure, and didn't really care. He wasn't in a position to judge Khan's bravery.

"Their sole objective is to stop us from using that exit," Hig stated almost casually, using his voice to calm him. "They won't move away from it." After a moment, he added softly, "I'm betting my life on it."

Khan was about to argue with him when Lurde abruptly cut him off. "If Hig believes they'll react accordingly, then so do I!"

Hig smiled at her, his heart fearing that he might be leading her to her death. Yet, her faith in him was reassuring, and thus, he grew even more determined to get past the soldiers barring their way.

Nodding first to Lurde and then to Khan, Hig set off toward the soldiers, his weapon held even with his chest. He walked as someone in a hurry, though his dread and fear for Lurde grew more ominous with each step that drew them closer to the imminent battle. He slowly increased his pace until they were almost jogging, and then they were within ten feet of the soldiers.

This was the moment he dreaded, as he quickly raised his weapon to attack. Lurde and Khan, seeing his weapon shoot skyward, rolled out and away from him, their own weapons remaining defensively positioned at chest height.

Though they expected Hig to maintain his pace, he suddenly threw himself forward, hoping to draw the soldier's attention away from Lurde and Khan. And then the battle began in earnest.

The nearest soldier wasn't taken in by Hig's ploy, and cried out orders to the soldiers standing to either side of him. But he was too late; already they were moving in toward Hig, their attention momentarily drawn by his battle cry and offensive gesture. He appeared as a Kamikaze, abandoning all fear of death in his crazed charge.

The first to see the error of his ways and react to his leader's orders was the one to Hig's left; the one facing Lurde. With a swiftness that was blinding, he spun back toward her whirring blade, catching it on the edge with the edge of his own. The two blades screamed from the impact, and Lurde stumbled back a step, the long-knife almost jarred from her grip.

But that was all Hig saw before he was forced to turn all of his attention to the two soldiers confronting his frontal assault. The leader, having stepped forward at the last instant in an attempt to separate himself from his subordinates, met the full force of Hig's blade, the impact rocking him backwards. But before Hig could take advantage of his opponent's unsteadiness, the second soldier jabbed his long-knife in low, sliding it past his superior's exposed torso, trying to bring Hig down before the battle even began. Caught by the unexpectedness of the jab from such a low angle, the tip narrowly missed his mid-section, forcing him to crab-step to the right.

Before he could bring his weapon up, the leader had regained his balance, and was slashing across in an attempt to behead him, hoping to take advantage of Hig's surprise. With the highly polished blade flashing from the reflection of the overhead lights, Hig tried vainly to throw his weight backwards, but slipped on the smooth floor and went down, landing hard on his tailbone and numbing his upper body!

Stunned, his muscles buzzing and un-obeying from the impact, he rolled to his side; momentarily unable to comprehend why he was still alive. In his peripheral vision, he saw Khan land jarringly on his face, knocking several teeth out and smashing his nose. A geyser of blood was spraying from his left arm. With sinking optimism, he realized that his plan had failed miserably!

Looking up, he saw the soldier bearing down on him, his feet planted and his blade held high over his head. If Hig didn't move fast, the soldier was going to cleave his skull. And yet, he remained still. Even as the blade came whistling down at his upturned face, he failed to move. Even when it appeared too late to react, he remained still.

And then, at the last possible moment, when only the quickest of reflexes could save him, he moved. With a grace and fluidness of movement that he never knew he possessed, he rolled forward on his haunches, his forehead aimed at the soldier's exposed groin. With all the pent up anger and frustration of a man possessed, he head-butted the lead soldier's manhood. The whoosh of exhaling air and the crash of his weapon striking against the bare floor happened simultaneously, and then Hig was back on his feet and moving like a whirlwind.

Bringing his weapon up from the floor beside him, he slashed past the lead soldier's hips, narrowly missing his breastplate and rendering the soldier almost directly behind him from groin to lower chest. With a thunk, his blade stopped abruptly, its edge embedded in the metal lip of the soldier's chest armor.

There wasn't time to extricate it. The lead soldier, only temporarily incapacitated, was already coming around. With strength he didn't know he possessed, Hig grabbed the soldier's wrists with his own, and twisted outward, forcing his fingers into the delicate tendons.

His fingers suddenly numbed, the soldier dropped his weapon. As Hig leaned down to retrieve it, the soldier brought his knee up into his face, striking Hig in the lips and momentarily stunning him. But Hig was a determined man, and unless he'd been knocked unconscious, he wasn't going to be deterred.

Instead of grasping wildly for the fallen long-knife, he wrapped his hands beneath the soldier's knee-joint and lifted upward, straightening his back in the process to achieve maximum height. There was a brief moment when the blood turned his vision red, and he suddenly feared that he might pass out.

Frantically, the soldier clawed at Hig's head for a handhold, trying desperately to maintain his balance in the air. But it was too late, and his fingers closed on empty air. Airborne, he went sailing outward through the open doorway. With a dull thud that was quickly followed by another, his head connected with the opposite wall before collapsing in a limp heap on the hallway floor.

Strongly suspecting that the soldier still lived, because he wasn't posing any immediate threat, Hig swiftly determined that he could be dealt with later.

Scooping up the fallen weapon, he spun to his left, the blade catching the unsuspecting soldier engaged with Lurde across the lower back. His spinal cord cut, Lurde's assailant suddenly collapsed in front of her, all control of his lower limbs gone. He lay in a crumpled heap on the floor, a look of confusion and shock quickly masking his prior air of superiority.

Turning to help the injured Khan, Hig noted for the first time that all the soldiers were down on the floor. Khan, having extricated himself from the melee, was sitting with his back to the wall next to the opening, his left arm grasped within his right hand to stem the flow of blood. Although he was bleeding quite heavily, Hig sensed that it wasn't anything more than a deep flesh wound, nothing that a good dressing and some time wouldn't heal.

Lurde stepped up beside him, her arm encircling his waist. She was breathing hard, a fine, silky covering of perspiration making her skin shine. The exertion had brought a flush to her cheeks; she looked radiant!

"We don't have much time," Layton suddenly said, appearing from his hiding place behind them. "Reinforcements will be here soon."

"Can you lead us to the surface?" Hig asked of him.

The others were gathering around, some staring with rapture at the dead soldiers. Though Hig knew it was only to be expected, since the soldiers represented death and slavery to them, it still didn't sit well with him. Like Layton, there were also good soldiers. It wasn't fair to judge them all by the few they'd met so far.

"I will set you on the right path, but that is all I can do for you," he said hesitantly. "I'm sorry. If I could do more, I would."

Hig noticed that several of the group had secured the weapons from the dead soldiers, and two were busy looking after Khan with bandaging material they'd found in the adjacent room. No one was paying any attention to the unconscious form lying in the hallway.

"See that the soldier in the hall is blindfolded," he said to the nearest tribe member.

"Do you plan to take him with?" Layton questioned, clearly disturbed by the idea.

"No, I just thought it would be better if he didn't see you helping us."

"That's thoughtful of you, but it would be better if you killed him before he came around. He can be recycled with the others."

It bothered Hig to hear someone discussing the killing of a man with such a lack of compassion. And yet, when he considered their circumstances, he could almost see their point of view. To them, it was more humane to put someone out of his misery, than to allow them to suffer. Once dead, it was a simple matter of recycling them.

Handing his weapon to Layton, he said stiffly, "Here, I can't expect any of us to understand."

With the group following Layton into the hallway, he un-hesitantly and swiftly, drove the long-knife into the unconscious soldier's back, being careful to strike the heart. Several in the group gasped at the grisly act. Yet, in his opinion, he had done nothing more than perform an act of mercy. The soldier would be recycled, remembering nothing beyond the fact that their prisoners had escaped. He would never know that Sergeant Layton had performed a part in their escape, or aided in their flight.

After wiping the blade clean on the dead soldier's leg, he handed the weapon back to Hig. "Follow me, I'll show you how to find supplies."

"Wait," Hig said, turning back toward Lurde. "We came this far to save your friends and fellow tribe members, we can't just leave them behind."

"We won't," she firmly agreed.

"But there isn't enough time," Layton pleaded. "My men will be here soon, even if reinforcements haven't been called. They are expecting me to be released and will be coming for me."

"We will free as many as we can before they arrive," Hig stated emphatically. "If you help us, it will go that much faster."

With a visual slumping of his shoulders in resignation to Hig and Lurde's determination, he replied, "Gather everyone around that can be spared. Leave Khan by the door so that he can warn us if anyone approaches. I'll do the first with everyone watching. Then, while they are busy freeing the others, I'll show you how to find supplies."

Hig gave a sharp whistle to get everyone's attention, and then he quickly explained what Layton proposed doing. With everyone's attention focused on Layton, and the procedure involved in releasing an occupant from the recycler, Hig and Lurde moved off in different directions and set to work.

It was quick work, and as more were resuscitated, there were that many more to help. Within a matter of minutes, minutes that seemed to drag for Sergeant Layton, all of Lurde's fellow tribe members were freed of their confining boxes. After a few minutes more of explaining, and then calming the more distraught, they were ready to leave.

Layton caught Hig's eye and furtively indicated for him to meet him in the hallway. Freeing himself from the throng of young people, and that is exactly what he thought of the new recyclees, all standing around in the prime of their lives, he slipped out into the hallway.

Layton was already there, standing next to Khan and checking on the man's injuries. Khan, having seen the ease with which Layton was capable of dispatching of the injured, looked nervously up at him, ready to jump if Layton even looked at him funny.

As Hig approached, Layton continued studying Khan's wounds, only glancing up when Hig shifted impatiently from foot to foot. "If we had the time, I would run him through the recycler. With such a minor injury, he could be done in a matter of days."

Khan, looking extremely nervous, struggled to his feet and, meeting Hig's gaze, said, "I can keep up. Don't you worry about me."

Hig, slightly amused by Khan's fear of being left behind, calmly assured him that he was coming with them.

Layton, also amused by Khan's nervousness, brushed aside the impulse to tease him, saying instead, "Follow me, Hig. Wait here, Khan, we'll be right back."

He led Hig less than one hundred feet from the doorway where they left Khan, much to Khan's visible relief, before stopping. Hig looked around, seeing nothing but clean white walls constructed of an opaque substance, and recessed lights molded into the ceiling that ran away from them in both directions. The air felt cool and comfortable with just a slight hint of copper.

With an air of familiarity, Layton brushed his hands over the opaque wall nearest them. Hig couldn't discern any difference from the spot where Layton chose to run his hands, to any other place along the wall; it all looked the same to his uneducated eye.

Hig was about to question his motives, when the wall suddenly slid back on itself, exposing a small room lined with well-stocked shelves. Startled, Hig jumped back, a loud gasp of air escaping from his mouth.

Layton looked at him with a mischievous smile and said, "You will find everything you need to sustain human life within this cubicle, as well as a few things that aren't necessary."

Regaining his composure, Hig looked past the opening and saw a multitude of items, each easily recognizable in its individual container, including several large flagons of distilled spirits.

But what caught his attention foremost was a large pack with what appeared to be gauzing protruding from the top. Someone had recently scavenged from it and had not taken the time to re-secure it properly.

"We could use that for Khan," Hig stated excitedly, his eyes flowing over the variety of items neatly stacked along one wall. "There is much more stuff in here than we could possible ever need."

"I wouldn't be too sure of that," Layton corrected him. "I will leave this open, and I recommend you have each carry to his maximum potential. But I will also leave this with you," he added, holding something out for him in the palm of his hand.

It was a small, shiny metal disk, not much larger than his thumbnail.

"What is it?" Hig asked, gingerly accepting it.

"If you look closely at the wall, you will find there are minute cracks every so often. Follow the crack with the palm of your hand, as you observed me do, and then insert the disk when you sense a widening of it. The door will open automatically."

Hig studied the disk with renewed interest and awe. Then suddenly, before Hig could react, Layton reached out and scratched his right arm with his index fingernail. Hig jerked his arm back, alarmed by Layton's actions.

Indignantly, he demanded, "Why did you do that?"

"So you would have somewhere to hide the disk," Layton calmly replied. "Here, let me show you," he quickly added when he saw the look of bewilderment on Hig's face.

Taking the disk back, he held Hig's arm out, exposing the fresh wound, which had already stopped bleeding. Using his free hand, Layton stretched the skin above the wound back with his index finger and thumb. Then very carefully, so that the wound wouldn't start bleeding afresh, he inserted the disk beneath the skin.

Hig, watching intently, was amazed to see the disk blend into his torn skin and mask itself from sight.

"When you need it," started Layton, "just squeezed the wound to make it bleed. You don't need to worry about it slipping free; it's designed not to. And you don't need to worry if you forget about it and the wound heals over, just cut a fresh gash with a small blade and squeeze the sides, it'll pop right out."

Still in awe, Hig said, "Thank you, Sergeant Layton."

"It's the least I can do. Just don't mention where you got it."

"I promise," Hig humbly replied, finding himself at a sudden loss for words.

The others had finished in the lab and with Khan in the lead, were heading toward them. Layton looked relieved that they would be gone before more soldiers arrived.

Turning back toward Hig, he quickly said, "If you follow this hallway, you will eventually come to a branch. Near the door, there is a small box. Anytime you find one of these, it indicates an exit to the surface. Of course, it the planet is in the wrong rotation, the exit will be useless to you."

"How will we know?" Hig asked, interrupting him.

"It will be too hot for you to touch without burning your hands." He hesitated for a moment before adding, "And if you insist on opening it, a breath of hot fiery air will wash you out, into the sun's ferocity. It will happen so fast, you will never realize you've died. Moreover, there will be no remains for recycling. You will be dead for all eternity."

He said this last as if he expected some form of reaction from Hig. But to Hig, a surface dweller that hadn't grown accustomed to the idea of eternal life, eternal death was the norm. He couldn't adjust to the concept of being recycled yet, even though he knew he had been.

"What do we do when we find the fork with the black box?"

"Use your passkey, the disk I gave you, to open the doorway beneath the box. This doorway, in turn, will lead you to a series of hand carved tunnels. Make sure you have plenty of supplies before you set out into the tunnels." He paused for a moment to catch his breath before continuing, his expression growing more urgent by the moment. "Once you're in the tunnels, look for handholds or rung ladders, and always work your way up. Eventually you will come to a broadening cavern, similar to the one you entered originally. From there, it is a simple matter of finding your way out."

"What happens if we get lost in the tunnels and run out of supplies? Who, if anyone, will find us?"

"Chances are, no one will ever find you," Layton solemnly replied. "There are so many passages between the surface and the subterranean that the odds are against anyone using the same tunnel you're in for many earth-years. You will be nothing more than skeletal remains by the time someone stumbles across you."

"Then I guess we better not get lost," said Lurde softly, standing behind Layton.

"No, you better not," he seriously agreed, turning to look at her.

Hig sensed a longing in Layton's eyes as he took in the beautiful woman standing before him. It was obvious that Layton, a man who had seen many women in his long life, was captured by her beauty. And under different circumstances, he would have courted her, despite the obvious connection between her and him.

Taking Lurde's hand, Layton held it gently while saying, "Time is running out. My men will be here at any moment. I must return to my box before they arrive, or they will grow suspicious." Speaking to Hig, though he remained facing Lurde and holding her hand, he added, "You don't let anything happen to this beautiful woman."

Hig, equally anxious to get moving, but for reasons not entirely the same, emphatically responded, "I promise, she will live a long and prosperous life."

"Good," Layton simply replied. Then, returning her hand to her side, he gave her a sensuous, all-knowing wink, before striding stoically back to the lab.

With mixed feelings of relief, gratitude, and loss, he watched Layton's back for a moment before turning his attention to the group of anxious faces. Their number had grown to more than thirty, a goodly percentage of those that had been captured originally.

Meeting Lurde's gaze, his said, "Since more of these faces are familiar to you than they are to me, I hope you won't mind if I leave work details in your capable hands."

Lurde understood the intricacies of tribal pecking order, and knew who could be ordered to do certain jobs, and who would be more appropriately assigned to yet other tasks.

With a quick nod of assent, she formed a single file line of women that handed out the necessary supplies to the waiting men. Within a matter of moments, Khan's arm had been properly bandaged and the majority of the group was wearing packs laden with supplies.

Unfortunately, to Hig's dismay, the supply closet didn't contain any weapons. As it stood, Lurde, Khan, he, and several of the others were brandishing long-knives. It would have to be enough, he thought wryly, almost confidently, as he considered the close confines of the hallways and tunnels.

With time running out, he let Lurde organize the group according to prior rank in the tribe, and then they set off at a brisk pace. Hig noted that Sath trotted abreast with him and Lurde, while Khan and two others he didn't recognize followed. Jun was somewhere near the rear, according to Lurde, but not for reasons Hig suspected. He noticed also that Sath wasn't brandishing a weapon. Judging from his position in the formation, and a formation it was, despite Lurde's protests to the contrary, he didn't possess a weapon because it was his choice not to. Hig felt that given a little time to adjust to his new body, he would see himself as a young man, and not the old, influential elder that he'd become. When that time came, he would demand a weapon, and an opportunity to use it when possible.

Because of their youthful energy, they were making good time, though Hig had no idea how far they would have to travel. Layton hadn't been very specific on that count, and Hig suspected it wasn't due to his withholding information. They owed Layton their lives, and he didn't believe for a second that Layton was doing anything that wasn't in their best interests. He was a good man, despite his jaded outlook on life.

After several hours, Hig slowly ground his pace to a halt. In spite of the cool air, there wasn't a dry body amongst them. Hig noted that he was extremely hungry, also. His new body demanded many more calories to perform at its higher energy level than his old and decrepit one had. Fortunately, there was no shortage of food or water. At least, not for the time being.

"What's the matter?" Lurde asked of him, concern etching her youthful face.

"Hungry. We'll take a few minutes to eat and replenish our fluids."

Though she was just as hungry as he was, she felt they needed to put more distance between themselves and their possible pursuers. She didn't understand that part of her impatience stemmed from a longing to return to the safety and familiarity of the jungle. She had fulfilled her promise and obligation to her friends and fellow tribe members; they were free from captivity and homeward bound. She was getting that much closer to deciding her own future, and she felt restlessness mixed with nervousness. On the one hand, she could finally determine a future with Hig, and yet, on the other, she couldn't discount Leeta.

"You seem rather distant," Hig softly stated to her while chewing on a piece of dried meat and washing it down with small swallows from a flagon lying near to him. "Do you want to talk?"

Distractedly, she chewed a little harder before swallowing and cleared her throat. "I was just thinking," she started slowly. "What happens to us once we rejoin the tribe?"

It was a worthy concern, one that he had thought about also. Slumping into silence, he chewed on his meat for a while longer. Then, sensing a growing restlessness among the others, he stood and offered his hand to Lurde. Rising to her feet, she said, "I can wait."

Nodding silently in acknowledgement, Hig watched as the group reformed itself. Without it being decided formally, Hig had been accepted as their leader. As an old man, he detested the responsibility of leadership. But as a young man, he took to it naturally. He didn't find it to be the burden that he remembered it being. The more he considered it, the more he found he actually savored the roll.

In silence, they set out, quickly bringing their speed up to that of their former pace. As they ran, Hig grew accustomed to the slap of the long-knife against his outer thigh. He felt grateful that Lurde suggested they remove the sheaths from the dead soldiers in order to free their hands for other things, including torches. Not considering them had been an oversight on his part.

They contemplated taking the breastplates also, but declined because of the extra weight. It was an easy decision for Hig, but he noticed that several of the others still considered taking them for themselves, and not because they wanted them for the protection offered when worn. The amount of metal used to fabricate them was astronomical by surface standards. Each one represented more metal than a surface dweller ever saw in his entire life. They were worth a fortune to the common man. But they could also mean the difference between survival and death.

In the end, none were taken.

The hallway gradually disintegrated from being a fascinating expedition to a monotonous journey. The lights were bright, the air coppery tasting, and there was no privacy from each other. This latter, an annoyance that he wouldn't even have considered in his aged state, which is what he had come to refer to his old self as, was beginning to gnaw at him. Every time he so much as glanced at Lurde, his manhood grew hard. And every time she took notice of his lusty desires, her nipples stood out and she would consciously catch her hand subconsciously sliding down to the warm nest between her muscular thighs.

They couldn't help themselves. They were like a couple of young kids anticipating the experience of sex, love, and experimental coupling for the first time in their lives. In many ways, it would be the first time for them, because neither had ever felt such lustful desire for another person before.

In his past life, Hig was faithfully committed to a woman that couldn't even begin to satisfy his most basic sexual needs. He didn't regret their relationship because of her inadequacies; he sincerely loved Leeta. But it was a different kind of love. It was a connection that was much stronger on a mental level than it was a physical one.

And though Lurde had brought forth sons for a mightily noble man, she had done it out of a sense of duty and obligation, there had never been any passion between her and her mate. This was indeed the first time that Lurde and Hig had ever felt such a deep, basic longing.

Only, they weren't just a couple of lust-crazed kids, they were mature adults. Unfortunately, their bodies didn't realize the reality of their maturity.

Soon, however, their bodies would have their way, regardless of the lack of privacy, or the ominous state of their affairs. They just had to look at each other to know it was only a matter of time.

They were making good time, and had stopped only three times, before arriving at the black box mounted near the ceiling. Although Hig couldn't separate a doorway from the rest of the wall by sight, he carefully ran the palm of his hand along it until he sensed, more than felt, the hairline crack that would lead to the insertion point.

With a slight flick of his index fingernail, he retrieved the wafer thin disk from the wound in his arm, and slid it into the slot as Layton had instructed him.

Although he was waiting for the doorway to open, its sudden action still startled him, causing him to involuntarily step back. It was a reaction that saved his life.

Standing just inside the doorway were two armed soldiers, their sole duty to prevent unauthorized access to the crudely carved tunnels. If Hig had not been moving backwards when the door slid in on itself, the nearest soldier's blade would easily have slit open his stomach to reveal the moist, vibrant organs contained within.

But because he was involuntarily stepping backwards, the tip of the blade barely creased the skin above his navel, drawing a superfine bead of red from one hip to the other.

The second soldier, following through as he'd been taught to, stepped forward while the first soldier's blade was still moving, and filled in the vulnerable area thus vacated to the first soldier's flank.

Using reflexes that were still baffling in their extreme, Hig managed to withdraw the long-knife and parry the second soldier's strike. Yet, even as he blocked one blade, the other was reversing direction and coming back at him, he couldn't parry both blows at the same time. In a fraction of a second, Hig understood how well the soldiers of the subterranean had been trained, and why they had overcome the surface dwelling tribes with such ease. It was more than just superior weapons and armor; it was also superior training and superior knowledge, of both hand-to-hand tactics, and combat strategies.

With his blade pinned against the second soldier's weapon, he watched helplessly as the first soldier's weapon came arcing back toward his exposed torso. In the fleetest of moments, he questioned the wisdom of having left the armor breastplates behind.

At the last possible moment, his knees buckled, and he dropped to the floor, his grip unwavering on his weapon. His right ear rang from the sound of metal against metal as the soldier's blade connected with Lurde's blade just fractions of an inch from the side of his head.

But the soldier was much stronger than Lurde, and he'd planted his feet before striking, putting all of his masculine strength behind the blow. Lurde, despite her youthful energy and lean, muscular frame, had only reacted the only way she could to save her lover's life, and had driven her weapon inward, barely missing Hig's head.

As the steel of the soldier's blade connected with the equal strength of the steel in Lurde's, it drove her blade broadside, smacking loudly against the side of Hig's head, knocking him off balance and stunning him. Yet, it protected his flesh from the cutting edge of the soldier's weapon, and thus he narrowly averted death, for the moment.

The clash of steel against steel sent a shock through the hilt of their weapons, numbing Lurde's fingers, and almost rattling it from her grasp. It took all of her will just to hold on and prevent it from falling to the floor. With her elbows locked and her hands numb, she suddenly realized that she couldn't draw the weapon back in time to parry a second blow. And even if she could, her assailant would easily knock the blade free of her grasp. With a sinking feeling of despair, she sadly realized that she had let Hig down. Not only could she not defend her lover from a sure death, but she was also incapable of resuming the battle in defense of the others.

With Hig stunned and Lurde shaken, the two soldiers stepped back as one and reassessed their immediate situation. Standing within the narrow confines of the hand-hewn tunnel looking out, they suddenly realized the size of the force they were facing. And though neither of them was afraid to die, neither were they eager to sacrifice themselves for an unknown cause. They had no way of knowing that very few of the group was armed. Nor could they know that the majority of those standing before them were simply scared and ready to turn and run.

With no one shouting orders at them from behind, they quickly took stock of the situation before them and made their choice regarding a course of action.

"We cannot let you pass this way," the larger of the two stated, their weapons held at the ready.

Hig, his ears still ringing from the blow to the side of his head, could only look on, dumbfounded by the fact that they weren't slashing him and the others apart.

Lurde, acutely aware that Hig wasn't capable of negotiating the situation for them, and not having enough faith in Khan, spoke up first. "We want only to return to the surface."

The larger soldier replied, a smile lighting up his face and making him appear much less menacing, "We don't have any specific orders to prohibit your return to the surface, woman. You just can't use this tunnel. Our orders are explicit to that respect."

"We would be glad to barter a safe passage from you," she responded sensuously, while returning his smile and standing straighter to show her firm breasts more prominently.

The larger soldier licked his lips and leered back at her, his eyes devouring her shapely body in its entirety. With a forced effort, she licked her lips and feigned interest in his hardening manhood, all the while flexing her stinging fingers and willing the strength back into them.

With the tip of her weapon resting on the floor in an almost casual stance, she understood the chance she would have to take. If she failed, not only would she die, but she would be forfeiting Hig's life, as well.

While the shorter soldier stood at the ready, the larger soldier, his blood rising, stepped forward and reached out to test the obvious firmness of her flesh. Though he didn't completely trust her, he was so confident in his abilities as a warrior that he discounted any threat she posed. He had been trained in a man's world where the woman was a second-class citizen, nothing more than a chambermaid or concubine for his personal pleasure and needs.

If Hig could have seen the performance Lurde was giving, he would have been proud. But at the same time, he never would have allowed her to be fondled by some dirty, foul-smelling, pale-skinned, tunnel dweller.

"Ooh," she purred deep within her throat. "Easy there, big fella, we have lots of time to get to know each other, let's not be rushing anything."

Although she feigned pleasure, his forceful squeeze of her breasts was painful enough to bring tears to her eyes. But he never saw the discomfort he'd evoked in her.

At that moment, Hig, having been feigning a small amount of his own discomfort, was acutely aware of the situation surrounding him.

From his crouched position on the floor next to the big soldier, he sprang forward, his blade rising before him. The shorter soldier, not expecting any trouble from the man doubled over on the floor, was caught off guard and unable to bring his weapon around in time to block the whistling blade coming at him.

His strength coming from a mixture of blind rage and jealousy, Hig drove his weapon forward and upward, the cutting edge catching the shorter soldier in the groin and opening him up from stem to stern.

Though Hig could feel the warm blood spray over him, he wasn't finished; his anger hadn't been spent on the individual that spurred it into being.

With a vicious twist of his wrists, the sound of splintering ribs echoed off the close confines of the tunnel walls. With a wild twist of his hips, Hig spun himself around until he was facing outward, toward the startled expressions of his charges. Standing directly before him was the giant form of the larger soldier, his attention focused solely on Hig, and his weapon already arcing downward toward Hig's head.

Once again, his training and upbringing would be his frailty. From years of using women and discarding them when he finished with them, he had never learned to take them seriously. It proved to be his final mistake, at least this time around.

Even as his blade sliced the warm damp air on a course for Hig's forehead, Lurde's blade was making an arc of its own, and it was much closer to its destination than that of the soldier's cutting edge.

Swinging his blade defensively to strike that of the soldier's, and thus prevent it from striking his head, Hig was stunned when his assailant's head suddenly sprang from his body, only to be replaced by a quickly diminishing spout of thick red blood.

The soldier's head landed with a thud, which was followed by a sharp clang as his blade struck the floor next to Hig.

A sudden metallic rattle sprang to life behind Hig, and he spun around to face the corpse of the first soldier, only to be confronted with the spastic paralyses of death. Even in death, the shorter soldier maintained his grip on his weapon, and as his short-circuiting nerves twitched his limbs spasmodically, the blade of his weapon vibrated against the tunnel wall, reverberating loudly in the small space.

Hig suddenly realized that he hadn't breathed since springing into action, and took a deep breath of coppery tasting air. He was about to relax and let his guard down, when he was suddenly knocked forward by a blow to the lower back.

Startled, he raised his weapon and spun on his heel, and then felt like a fool. At his feet lay the headless corpse of the larger soldier.

Lurde, her weapon still dripping blood, grinned back at him, adding further to his embarrassment. Standing behind her, Hig could see the relief on the faces of those in the group as a whole, and finally relaxed.

Stepping over the decapitated corpse, Lurde reached out and embraced him. It was brief, yet reassuring. Then they wiped their respective weapons on the dead soldiers to clear the tarnishing blood away, and returned them to their sheaths. The two fallen long-knives were quickly scooped up by two young men from the group. When Lurde didn't protest their new ownership, Hig let it go.

"We must get moving," he said hurriedly to Lurde. "There doesn't appear to be any supplies here, so they must be relieved frequently."

She looked back at him for a moment. He found her look unsettling. When he didn't say anything, she asked of him, "Did you hear all of that?"

He didn't need to ask her 'all of what?' He knew what she meant.

"Yes."

"You know I would have let him, if that had been the only way to protect you."

"Yes, I know," he humbly replied. "I know also that you were going to try killing him first."

Surprised, she asked, "But how?"

"I was watching your fingers," he said, smiling at her. "When I saw the firmness returning to your grip, I knew it was time act."

The narrowness of the tunnel restricted them to a single file column. Hig took point, followed by Lurde. One of the newly armed men followed Lurde, and Khan brought up the rear with the rest of the armed men. The unarmed were strung out between the two armed groups.

Another difficulty they encountered was the lack of light. No one had thought to confiscate torches from the supply closet, even though there was an abundant supply. Hence, their progress was impaired drastically.

They traveled slowly, feeling their way along the tunnel wall while simultaneously holding an arm out in front of their head in case of a low overhang. They were unfamiliar with tunnels, or they would have realized that there was sufficient headroom the entire distance of the tunnel.

After several hours of excruciatingly slow travel, Hig called a halt. After passing around the water flagons and giving everyone time to relieve themselves, they set out again. Except for the soft, muffled sound of bare feet scraping along the stone floor, they were surrounded by silence; silence and absolute darkness. To Hig's relief, the air no longer contained the faint hint of copper. It was, however, much warmer than the hallways, and sporting a mixture of human-oriented odors.

Hig was making a mental note of the differing scents, when Lurde's voice came wafting softly to his ears. "If the soldiers were following us, wouldn't they have caught up to us by now?" she asked, clearly looking for confirmation of her thoughts.

Although Hig didn't want to discourage her, he felt compelled to give her his honest opinion. "That depends on how soon after we left the recycling lab before the bodies were discovered. With torches and experience, they could cover the same distance as us in a fraction of the time." After a brief pause in which she remained silent, he added, "We have to remain diligent."

They continued in silence. After several more hours of proceeding at their slow pace, Hig was about to call a halt when his hand suddenly dipped into a slight depression cut into the wall. He recognized it for what it was immediately, a handhold!

"Hold up!" he whispered excitedly, as Lurde bumped into him from behind.

"What is it?" came a male voice from farther back in the tunnel.

Speaking to Lurde and anyone else that could hear him without raising his voice, he said triumphantly, "Handholds! They must lead to the surface!"

"Or just the next level," Lurde somberly added. "Layton said that we might have to climb upward through several levels to reach the surface, remember."

"Just smell the air, Lurde," he responded, not at all dismayed by her sobering remark. "It's fresher!"

She took a deep breath before replying. "I'll concede that it smells different," she finally admitted. And then added, "But I can't say that it's fresher."

"Come, if the soldiers are following us, maybe we can lose them."

Unable to argue with his statement, she resigned herself to resting a hand on his body as he climbed. When he was clear of the lower area, she took a deep breath to relax herself, and then started after him. The man behind her rested a hand on her hip to gage her progress. When he felt that she was far enough up so as not to impede him, he started after her.

Although the man wasn't aware of it, his touch had stirred a desire in her. Yet, because of the extreme physical demands of the climb, any sexual urges that she might otherwise have felt were very fleeting. Within minutes, her body was glistening with sweat, and her fingers were aching from the rough handholds.

Hig, just inches above her, wasn't faring much better, when the rock they were so tenuously clinging to suddenly shifted violently beneath their grasps.

Reacting to the unexpected, Hig pulled himself in tight against the wall. Seconds later, he felt a large rock brush his shoulder, followed by a loud thud and several anguished curses from people farther below him.

Dust and small pebbles pelted down on him. Gasping for air, he cried out, "Lurde!"

"I'm all right," she barely managed, herself choking on the heavy dust drifting downward.

The shudder of stone stopped as swiftly as it began. Though he had no way of knowing how much farther they had to go before reaching the next level, he knew they had to get out of the shaft as quickly as possible; the next quake might just shake them all loose, leaving them in a pile of broken bones and torn flesh at the bottom of the shaft.

"Hurry, it can't be much farther!" he called out.

Gasping for air, he searched frantically for the next handhold, and then the next, and the next. His fingers cramped into claws that refused to flex; if he needed his weapon when he reached the top, he would be unable to grasp the hilt, leaving him defenseless.

He hadn't gone another fifty feet when the shaft was rocked by another vicious quake. Because it wasn't quite as unexpected as the first, they managed to hang on to their precarious perches and ride it out; or at least, most of them were able to.

This time, they were pelted with even more gravel than the first, but no large boulders. Still, Hig heard at least two screams from falling people. Due to the rumble of the ground and the clatter of falling debris, their screams were muffled and undecipherable; he would have to wait until they reached the top to find out if they were men or women. And more importantly, whether they were armed or not.

In the dark, there wasn't any way of determining the diameter of the shaft. Yet, Hig sensed that it was at least several yards across. Under different circumstances, he would have used his long-knife, and probed for the far side. But under their current circumstances, he sufficed that it was at least large enough to permit a free-fall without dislodging those below. That was all the knowledge he needed.

When the tremors stopped a second time, he set off with renewed vigor, spurred by adrenaline and fear. Within minutes that seemed to drag into hours, he clamored over the upper lip.

Turning on his stomach, he reached over the side, grasping Lurde beneath the armpits with his inflexible hands, and jerking her up and over the lip. As she scrambled out of the way, Hig repeated the maneuver with the next in line, and then instructed him to help those yet to come.

Rising to his feet, he felt his way along to where Lurde waited patiently, her long-knife drawn and resting on its point near her feet. Though she couldn't properly grasp the hilt, she meant to be prepared for the unexpected.

When she felt Hig touch her, she asked of him, a small hint of fear in her voice, "What happened?"

They were standing amidst loose gravel, possibly littered with larger boulders that they would stumble over in the dark. But for the moment, their more important concern was the thick dust suspended in the air without enough of a draft to clear it. Hig could feel it building up in his nostrils and drying out his throat. "I don't know," was all he could mutter.

"Do you think it's normal?" she pressed, not satisfied with his weak response.

Feeling pressured to assuage her fears, his anger boiled up and he fired back without thinking, "I said, I don't know!"

Then, just as quickly as the anger flared, it fizzled, and he found himself regretting his outburst. "I'm sorry, Lurde," he humbly croaked.

"It's all right," she whispered back, her voice dry.

In the dark, they continued working their fingers and hands, trying anxiously to get circulation flowing in the cramped joints again. Meanwhile, several others had reached the top and were discussing who was missing.

When Lurde made a small whimper, Hig knew immediately that it was someone she had felt close to. "I'm sorry, Lurde," he said gently.

She responded by reaching out in the dark and pulling him close. "I don't know what I would do if I lost you," she said tightly, her head against his shoulder.

Hig could feel her firm breasts pressed against his chest, and though he didn't desire it, his manhood wouldn't be denied, and took notice also. Comfortingly, he put his hands around her waist and embraced her, blaringly aware of the firmness of her thighs and the tight curvature in the small of her back as her taught belly pressed against his abdomen.

Raising his hands to her shoulders, he gently pushed her away from him and held her at arm's length, determined not to let her know that he was so incapable of controlling his more bestial urges.

While she stood confused and alone in the dark at the ends of his arms, he loathed himself for his callous reaction to her pain and loss. And though he wanted nothing more than to hold her close and console her, he couldn't let her know that the nearness of her body brought his manhood to attention under such dire conditions!

"It is sad that we lost someone, but we cannot lose sight of our larger goal." Though he couldn't see her looking quizzically at him in the dark, he felt compelled to explain, nonetheless. "Because of our efforts, yours in particular, many of your tribe members are free that would otherwise be on their way to a life of slave labor." He hesitated a moment before adding, "You cannot possibly save them all."

During his short lecture, his manhood relaxed, allowing him to draw her close and comfort her without fear of her misreading his body. Inside, he was silently thankful for the cover of the darkness; in the light of day, she would surely have misunderstood the meaning behind the way his body had betrayed him.

Gently, she pushed him away and whispered, "We must get moving. If these occurrences are normal, the soldiers won't be delayed by them."

"First, we have to wash the dust out of our throats and let the circulation return to our hands."

Almost as if someone was waiting for just that moment to intrude, a flagon suddenly bumped against the side of Hig's arm. "Here," came Khan's voice out of the darkness.

"Thanks," Hig replied, taking the proffered flagon and guiding it into Lurde's hands.

While Lurde drank from the flagon, Khan commented, "I am inclined to believe that the quakes are not a normal occurrence."

"What makes you feel that way?" Hig asked, feeling obligated to be polite to him since he had brought them water, and not actually believing that Khan knew something more than he did.

Whether he sensed Hig's veiled critical demeanor of him or not, he didn't react either way. Instead, he simply stated, "If they're regular occurrences, where is the build-up of debris?"

Hig snapped around, all of his attention focused on Khan, as he was suddenly aware that he had underestimated the man standing before him for a second time. He also admonished himself for not having realized the obvious himself.

Sincerely, he replied, "That's a good point, Khan. I should have seen it myself. All of this is fresh, none has been her long enough to compact."

"You and Lurde saved our lives back there when I was too scared to move. You have a lot on your mind as of late; you can't be expected to take note of everything."

In the dark, Hig wasn't sure if Khan was patronizing him, or sincere in his comments. He quickly decided to accept Khan at his word. No man would openly admit to having been too scared to react if he wasn't sincere, would he?

"Thanks, Khan," he replied, taking the proffered flagon from Lurde. After washing the dust and grit out of his mouth, he handed the flagon back to Khan and asked, "How's the arm?"

"I'll live."

"Make sure we don't leave anyone behind, we'll be moving out in a minute."

"Sure thing," he lightly responded, taking the flagon and drifting away in the dark.

Lurde, having regained both her voice and her composure, asked, "Which way do we go now?"

"The same way we were traveling in the tunnel below." He reached out in the dark and found her arms. Pulling her close, he whispered in her ear, "I don't know what I would do if something should happen to you, either."

Lurde wanted desperately to reply, but she was afraid to speak for fear that she would ask him where Leeta fit into the picture they were painting for themselves. Instead, she just gently squeezed him back before letting him go.

Following close on his heels, they set off once again, their pace still painstakingly slow.

They hadn't gone far, when suddenly the floor heaved upward, rolling and quaking from side to side, and knocking most of them off their feet. Rocks and debris were dislodged from the ceiling, crashing down on them. Shortly, he would learn that no one was seriously injured.

When the tremors stopped, Hig sent the first man behind Lurde, to go back along the line to assess the human damage and make sure everyone had water available to them. When he returned, he brought two flagons, both nearly empty, and the good news regarding his fellow tribe members. Hig accepted one of the flagons and passed the other to Lurde. When she handed the flagon back to him, he noticed that it hadn't gotten any lighter.

Pushing the flagon back to her, he forcefully said, "Drink, it might be a while before we find more."

Reluctantly, she snatched the flagon back and drank what remained in it. Satisfied that it was empty, she handed it to Hig for his inspection. With a satisfactory grunt, he handed the flagons back to the man and advised him to retain them. "Pass it along that none of the flagons are to be discarded, we might need them to transport water once we reach the surface."

"If there's any water to put in them," the man grumbled half to himself and half aloud as he turned to carry out Hig's request.

Hig almost called out to him with a reprimand, but quickly bit his tongue. The man was doing what he asked of him; he would have to be satisfied with that for the time being. Yelling at him would only demoralize more of the group, making them weaker than they already were.

"Why are you so angry, Hig?" Lurde asked, startling him by the question.

He thought for a moment before replying, almost as though he weren't satisfied with his answer and was trying to come up with something better. "It just doesn't sit well with me when someone under my care is injured or dies for no apparent reason."

Consolingly, she said, "You're a wonderful man, Hig. Without you, we would all be slaves or worse, if there is such a fate worse. No one expects you to protect them from the unknown."

"What do they expect of me?" he grumbled, the anger draining from him.

Yet, what Lurde heard in place of the anger frightened her; it sounded too much like defeat.

Softly, she replied, hoping that she was saying the right thing. "They're scared and confused, just like you and me. They need someone to be strong and tell them that there are reasonable explanations for the situation they're in, and that you are doing your best to return them to their friends and families." She hesitated for a moment before adding, "If that is more than you can give, I will understand, and I will certainly not think any less of you."

She felt him flinch in the dark, and knew immediately that her words had had the desired effect that she had hoped they would.

After a moment of tense silence, he said, "I can't promise them safe passage back. I don't even know where we are. But I can promise that I will do everything within my power to see to that end."

Smiling, though he couldn't see her, she leaned into him and kissed him passionately on the lips. It was intended to be a promise of what was to come, and before he could put his arms around her and pull her into his embrace, she backed away, saying, "We must get going, we have much distance to cover."

"Yes," he grumbled in reply, his disappointment more than obvious in the tone of his voice.

They hadn't gone far, when they came to another upward leading shaft. This shaft appeared to be much smaller in diameter than the one prior, with a steady stream of rancid air flowing up it. At first, Hig assumed the smell was emanating from the large group of sweat-drenched and mud-covered bodies behind him. But upon closer inspection, he realized that the stench was coming from beyond them, farther up the same tunnel they were currently in before being sucked up the shaft.

His spirits were buoyed by the fact that it was the most air movement they'd experienced since landing below the planet's surface. And though he was curious about the strong stench of body odor coming from farther along the tunnel, he didn't intend on wasting any time exploring for the source. Layton had instructed him to use every shaft that led upward, and that was exactly what they would do! Without a doubt, he could spend the rest of his life exploring the multitude of tunnels and hallways beneath the surface, and he still wouldn't know everything there was to know down here.

After sending the man behind Lurde up first, he explained that she was to go next and then wait for him when she reached the top. He intended to count heads and familiarize himself with their injuries and frailties. Though she didn't like the idea of being separated from him, she grudgingly consented.

Hig also didn't relish the time they would spend apart, but he didn't want her hanging back with him; he felt better knowing that she was nearer to the surface.

After more than twenty minutes, Khan and Hig were the last two still in the tunnel. Thirty-four men and women were ascending the shaft ahead of them, none of which was as seriously injured as Khan was, and he was doing a good job of ignoring the pain and discomfort that his wound was causing him.

"Go ahead, Hig," Khan said when the last person was well up the shaft.

Although there hadn't been any sign of problems up ahead, Hig was impatient to return to Lurde and started up the shaft. His mind was preoccupied with what he had learned by hanging back. To his immense relief, he had learned first-hand that none of the injuries had been serious enough to impede their progress. In fact, most were simple lacerations about the head from falling gravel. However, their water situation was dire. Almost all of the flagons were empty or nearly so. Their main priority would have to be finding water. But in these tunnels, where would one even begin to look? There weren't any barely-concealed doors to open that would reveal a plethora of supplies for the taking. They were on their own.

He climbed in silence, pacing himself according to the noisy progress of the person ahead of him. When he finally broke out into the tunnel above, Lurde was waiting with open arms. Khan, suffering more from his wound than he was letting on, came up a few moments later, his breath sounding shallow and labored.

"There's another shaft just a short ways from here!" Lurde quickly told him, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. "And you can smell the jungle when you climb up it!"

"How would you know?" he asked angrily, startling her into silence. "I'm sorry," he quickly amended. "You were supposed to wait here for me, not go off on some scouting mission without telling me."

"I'm sorry, Hig," she humbly replied. "But I thought I would surprise you. It seemed perfectly safe, and I didn't go very far."

"It's all right," he said soothingly. "I didn't mean to get upset with you. I just worry about losing you." After a short pause, he said, "So, can you show me where this next shaft is?"

Taking his hand in hers, she led him less than twenty yards from where they came up into the tunnel. Already, several of the more adventurous among the group were ascending the next shaft, while a larger number waited at the base for Hig and Lurde.

Unable to contain his own excitement now that they were getting close and he was certain they were near the surface just by the taste and smell of the air, Hig instructed Lurde to go next. Then, after making sure Khan was bringing up the rear, he started up after her. With each step higher he went, the fresher, greener the air smelled. He knew they were almost to the surface, and there was water nearby, he could almost taste it!

They climbed for nearly an hour before emerging into a large space. Because of the dark, it was impossible to determine the exact size, but their voices echoed hollowly, indicating that it was immense.

When Khan finally came out of the shaft, Hig told him to rest. In the meantime, several of the men had been assigned the task of following the walls in opposite directions. The first to come to an opening would call out for the others.

After several minutes of tense silence in which only the sound of shuffling feet could be heard, a torch suddenly flared to life, displaying the true dimensions of the cavern they were in.

The torch had been lit by one of the men searching along the wall. He had stumbled across a wall sconce containing the torch and a striker. Now that they had light, Hig noticed the sconces were spaced evenly along the wall and leading away in both directions. He also noticed the exits, both of them!

Lurde noticed them two, positioned across from each other and halfway along the wall from where they stood. The men that were working their way along the walls stopped and turned back toward Hig, their expressions clearly indicating that they weren't sure if they should continue with their task now that the exits were visible.

"Which one do we take?" Lurde asked, moving out toward the center of the cavern.

Walking abreast with her, Hig simply stated, "Smell."

### **12**

Nearing the center of the cavern, they quickly determined the source of the fresh air, and headed toward that exit. To their delight, the tunnel they discovered there was broad, and appeared to be well traveled. Though their cursory search of the cavern turned up nothing besides an ample supply of torches, the moist scent of the jungle permeating to them from the tunnel quickly put any worries of food or water they might have been harboring out of their minds.

After following the tunnel for nearly three miles, a distance that needed only twenty minutes to cover because of their heightened anxiety, they came around a bend and caught their first glimpse of moonlight!

Pandemonium quickly broke out, as the first to witness the grayish green hues and pale-white light, burst out excitedly with shouts and screams of elated joy. Despite Hig's frantic attempts to control them, almost as if they were of one mind, the group broke and ran for the opening.

Lurde, her own level of anxiety near the overflowing point, took Hig by the arm and nearly dragged him the last few feet of the tunnel. Although she was more cautious than the rest, she was still overwhelmed by the fact that they'd escaped their captors, and saved the majority of her fellow tribe members.

Almost reluctantly, Hig stepped out into the bright light reflecting from the two moons and set to calculating their distance from the eastern horizon, a skill that everyone learned at a very tender age if they intended to survive.

After several minutes of scratching his jaw and then running his hands through his thick mane of hair, he resignedly turned a puzzled look toward Lurde.

Having done the exact same calculations in her mind as he, she smiled back in acknowledgement, saying, "Yes, it appears we're beyond the western edge of calculation."

"But how can that be?" he asked incredulously.

Khan had finally caught up to the rest of them. In the light of the jungle, his complexion looked gray and pasty. He was not doing as well as he would have them believe. In the dark of the subsurface, it was impossible to question him. But now that they could see him clearly, they realized how desperately he needed rest and medical attention for his arm. The bandage was caked with dirt and dried blood, while fresh blood glistened around the edges; the wound hadn't even stopped bleeding yet!

With a weak voice, he said, "I've never been this far west before. I had always wondered what it looked like where the sun had just set."

Lurde, equally stunned by his pale face and slumped shoulders, said with conviction, "I've never intentionally traveled eastward, and I don't intend to start now. We will find food and water, and then rest here until the rest of the world catches up with us."

As his eyes devoured the dust and grime covered shape of her, Hig discovered that he felt content with the idea. Nodding his agreement, he ordered, "Assign several men to erect shelters. Split the remaining into two groups. One will be responsible for procuring water, and the other food." As an afterthought, he added, "Make sure the shelters can be easily disassembled and moved. It might be wise for us to be ready for anything," his glance returning to the gaping darkness of the tunnel.

"I'll see to it," Khan tiredly replied.

Lurde, shocked that Hig would put any responsibilities on Khan because of his condition, was about to protest, when Hig said, "And make sure you have that wound looked after and get some rest. Someone might still have some medical supplies from below. If they do, don't hesitate to use them on yourself."

As Khan stumbled away to see to Hig's requests, Lurde grabbed Hig by the arm and demanded to know why he would impose so on Khan. "Couldn't you see how weak he was?" she angrily demanded.

"Yes, I saw exactly how he was feeling. And if I had ordered him to find a place to rest, or worse, assigned someone to look after him, he would have resisted and found a way to be useful behind my back." He paused for a moment before adding, "Possibly worsening his condition before it can get better. By putting him in charge, he won't feel useless, and yet, he won't have to actually do any of the physical work."

She thought for a moment before pinching his arm playfully and saying, "Well, you look as though you could use some rest yourself. Would you care to do a little scouting of the area with me?"

His hand floating restlessly over the hilt of the long-knife, he quickly agreed. Although he felt bone-tired, the rush of adrenaline hadn't worn off. The excitement of reaching their destination was almost more than he could stand. And although they had traversed many miles since leaving the remainder of her tribe behind, they were both young and healthy again, feeling emotions and sensations they hadn't felt for more years than they cared to admit.

Hig also needed a moment of distraction so that he could clear his mind of their immediate situation and look toward the future. He was troubled by the idea that others might be coming from below in search of them. And though he didn't relish the idea of traveling toward the east, a sentiment he shared strongly with Lurde, the alternative meant remaining near the entrance to the subsurface.

It was somewhat reassuring to note that they were armed with long-knives and back in familiar territory, or at least, somewhat familiar territory. For although they were back in the jungle and near the start of what would become the equatorial trail, they were in a land that wasn't completely developed. Even though the vegetation was green, most of it was unfamiliar or in its infant stages of growth. The canopy above their heads was thin and sparse, allowing an excessive amount of filtered light through. For the short term, this wasn't harmful to them. But they would have to be careful that they didn't remain out of the shadows any longer than necessary.

They also had no idea what type of creatures were indigenous this far west.

Despite the extreme humidity and uncomfortably high temperatures, in large part due to the extremely warm surface beneath their feet, the cavities that would eventually fill with water to supply their needs and encourage wild game to them, had not! They would have to travel eastward to find water and familiar game, or collect the condensing steam from the developing leaves; a slow and tedious process that would take up many man-hours for a scant return.

"Let's go this way," she said almost playfully, pulling him along behind her.

They worked their way toward the northeast for several hundred yards before turning due south, back toward the future trail that would see many thousands of feet before the sun rose on it again. Crossing the trail, Lurde suddenly stopped and looked at Hig, searching his eyes before lowering her gaze to his sweat-streaked body.

Licking her full, sensuous lips with her tongue, she teasingly suggested that they should clean the grime from their bodies.

Drawing his long-knife, Hig reached forward and sliced several dew-moistened leaves from an overhanging branch. "Here," he said softly, handing her half of them.

Slowly, languorously, she wiped her shoulders and face, gradually rubbing the leaf down the front of her neck, pausing only when she came to her firm, prominent breasts.

Hig, pausing in his own rudimentary effort at cleaning, found he was unable to take his eyes from her erect nipples. Teasingly, she draped the leaf over her breasts, only showing him small parts of her smooth, creamy flesh. She was much lighter than when they first met, the moon-glow not having had time to work its magic on her youthful skin.

Yet, Hig found the contrast between the darker rings of her aureoles, and the buttery white skin covering the remainder of her body, alluring. Unconscious of his own actions, he lowered the leaves and slowly stroked his hardening manhood, cleaning the grimy residue from his groin area and revealing his own buttery-white flesh.

His eyes rising to meet hers, he saw the desire she had for him dancing like hot flames behind her pupils. With all thought of their present worries fading into dust, Hig dropped the leaves he held and reached out to pull her close. Lurde, feeling the passion for him rising in her loins, also dropped her leaf, and with it, all pretenses.

As he drew her firm body up against his, she reached down and tenderly grasped his stout erection, deftly guiding it to the warm moistness between her quivering thighs. She suddenly needed him more than he would ever know.

Reaching around her full hips, he grabbed her muscular buttocks, squeezing them hard in his strong hands. Using the strength in his legs and upper body, he easily held her upright as she arched her back and locked her legs behind his own. With a passion born of youth and pent-up desire, they ravaged each other's bodies, relishing the release as each came again and again.

With his legs aching from the effort of supporting both of their bodies while feverishly fulfilling their desires, he gently lowered her to the thick layer of moss that had established itself on the warm obsidian surface. Moving ever so carefully, for fear of breaking the bond between them, he followed her body down with his own.

The movement brought new delights and sensations, and within moments, their passion was flaring anew. Hig was extremely proud and amazed at his new sexual prowess, while Lurde remained a hungry and willing participant.

After an indeterminable length of time, Hig finally came to the end of his stamina, and the flow of adrenaline and other bodily fluids ceased.

Lurde, her own cravings sated, was almost pleased that he was finished, and yet slightly disappointed. Like a spent animal, Hig rolled off her, and immediately fell asleep on the ground beside her, his arm draped in a protective, or possibly possessive, gesture across her stomach.

Although her body was physically drained, she was unable to fall asleep with the same ease as Hig. Lying still and quiet, she drank in the sounds of the jungle; sounds that were only vaguely different from the more mature jungle where she'd spent all of her previous life. In a few minutes, the familiarity of their surroundings soothed her mind, and her eyes slowly drooped shut.

Her ears were still processing the sounds surrounding them when her eyes suddenly shot wide open. Though she remained still, Hig stirred, and then he too, remained perfectly still. Whether he reacted from instinct or an old habit of sleeping lightly, Hig wasn't sure. But he was fully awake now, and listening intently to Lurde's quickening heartbeat.

Lurde, sensing a change in him, yet afraid to even move enough to see his face, suspected that he was awake and waiting. Though she didn't hear the sound again, she knew that whatever had made it wasn't very far away. Somehow, she would have to alert Hig of her suspicions.

Sensing it more than feeling it, the weight of his arm across her stomach gently lessened. Almost too slowly to detect movement, he reached for the hilt of the long-knife, while simultaneously positioning himself for a defensive action; he had only to know what the threat was.

Suddenly, from out of the low vegetation surrounding them, a large carnivorous creature burst forth! Weighing nearly twice as much as Hig, it landed on his chest with a thunderous expulsion of air, while pinning his arm immobile against him. The long-knife was completely useless, since he couldn't move his left arm across his body to retrieve it.

Hissing and snarling, the creature slashed viciously at his face, narrowly missing his eyes while opening a deep gash across the top of his cheek.

Unable to catch his breath, and blinded by his own hot blood, Hig suddenly feared that his life had come to an abrupt end.

The creature suddenly reared back, a sharp set of fangs poised to rip the throat out of its prey, when Lurde grabbed it around its fat belly and threw herself backwards, dragging the beast with her. It was a courageous gesture, one she made for Hig's sake with no thought for her own safety. But now the snarling beast was aware of her, and she was unarmed.

With the strength that only a wild beast could possess, it easily jerked free of her grasp and spun around to confront her. Quickly having assessed her as a source of harmless food, and not that of a threat, it turned its attention back to the bloodied prey squirming on the ground and trying futilely to get away.

In a sudden display of confidence, the creature raked its claws across Hig's thighs, eliciting a fresh flow of blood amidst a stifled scream.

Lurde wasn't sure whether the sound came from Hig, or her own throat. Feeling helpless, she was suddenly overcome with anger and frustration. She had come too far and endured too much to sit idly by and watch while some savage beast killed her lover!

Enraged and infuriated, a killing frenzy overcame her. With no thought for anything but protecting Hig, she leaped back upon the animal, digging her nails into its eyes and raking one clear from its socket before the beast could turn on her. Her attack came so unexpectedly, the pain so abruptly inflicted, that the beast involuntarily recoiled, screaming a high-pitched wail that echoed through the jungle.

Had the beast turned and raked wildly at its unknown opponent, it would surely have killed or maimed her. Even a casual, glancing blow across her mid-section would have disemboweled her, leaving her to die a slow death.

But it hadn't! Instead, it reacted out of self-preservation, an instinct that had prolonged and protected the species for thousands of years. To its unfortunate demise, however, the beast had never run across humans before, and thus, its instincts failed it for the first time in its evolution.

When it retreated from the maddened and advancing woman, it tripped over Hig's legs, and Hig could finally focus his frustration and pain on an enemy within his grasp. Using the strength of youth combined with the knowledge and wisdom of age, Hig reached out and grabbed the beast around the throat.

Yet, it wasn't his intention to strangle the creature. In order for such a maneuver to be successful, he would have to hold the beast for several long minutes, a feat that he was well aware he could not perform without the beast retaining its senses and overcoming the moment of fear.

Instead, with an iron-like grasp, he slid his hands up the creature's neck, giving the miniscule mind within the creature a false sense that it might break free. And then, when the creature opened its jaw to bite down on the hands that held it, Hig slipped his thumbs into its mouth at each corner and twisted downward and to the side with all of his strength. It was a desperate measure on his part, and if it failed, at the least, he would lose his fingers.

But Hig had no intentions of failing. There was too much at stake. Not only was he concerned for his own life, but also for the life of the woman he loved; the woman who was standing directly behind the wildly struggling beast.

With a loud crack, the jawbone snapped, and the creature's lower mouth suddenly flapped loosely below its head. Yelping loudly, the wounded creature suddenly had only one objective, escape!

Blinded and injured, Hig held on until he was sure that the beast wasn't turning back toward him or Lurde, and that its only intention was to get away. Satisfied, exhausted, and suffering his own great pain, Hig released the loosely flapping jaw, feeling the sharpness of the lower teeth as they raked across his palms. And only after listening intently, until he was sure the creature was running away from them, did he allow his body to relax. With an audible sigh of relief, he listened to the frantic sounds of the creature's hasty retreat as it plunged headlong through the low growing vegetation. The sounds quickly faded as the damp growth swallowed it up.

Lurde ran to Hig's side, worried that the beast had blinded him or worse. "Help me up," he said tiredly.

When he was on his feet, she found a clean leaf and handed it to him. While he wiped at the blood covering his forehead, she found several more leaves and gently daubed the remaining blood away.

Satisfied that he wasn't blinded, she hurriedly inspected the wounds to his thighs. To his good fortune, the claw marks were shallow, and well away from any vital organs.

"What was that creature?" she asked breathlessly.

"I'm not sure," he honestly replied. "But we'd better rejoin the others before anything more deadly finds us."

Holding each other close, they worked their way back to the makeshift camp established near the mouth of the tunnel. Upon seeing them, and the fresh blood still oozing from Hig's wounds, a chorus of concern erupted, and flowed out to greet them.

Khan, his own wound tended to, was amongst them. Hig was glad to note that his skin had regained some of its color.

"What happened?" he asked of Lurde, as several women crowded around Hig with fresh bandages and salve.

"A beast attacked us."

"What kind of beast?" he pressed, his eyes darting past her toward the jungle and his hand moving to the hilt of his long-knife, almost as if he expected something to come charging toward them.

Seeing his reaction, she quickly assuaged his immediate concerns. "Hig dealt with it, it's not following us."

He visibly relaxed, his attention refocusing on her. With a casual sweep of his eyes over her body, he ascertained that she hadn't been injured. Then, almost authoritatively, he asked, "What happened?"

After giving him a brief synopsis of the events, finishing with the way Hig had dispatched of the beast single-handedly, she added, "Hig feels that we need to move eastward, away from the tunnel, and into more familiar territory."

"I agree. Just as soon as the others return, we'll set out."

Leaving Khan to make arrangements for the move with the group that had gathered building materials, Lurde went to check on Hig.

She found him sitting amidst a covey of young women, and immediately felt a pang of jealously. As she approached, the women silently rose and moved off, giving her and Hig a small moat of privacy. Although she felt like clawing each one of the youthful girls' eyes out, she made a point of not looking at them; she entirely understood their attraction to the handsome man that sat before her.

"Sit," he said, smiling up at her.

Dropping to the warm, damp moss, she said, "Khan is taking care of getting everything ready to move eastward."

"He looks better," Hig simply responded. When she didn't say anything for a moment, he added, "They applied the same salve to my wounds. Fortunately, someone thought to bring medical supplies from the cache in the hallway."

"I'm glad," she remarked, not really hearing him.

He knew her well enough to know that she wanted to say something, or ask something, but didn't know how to phrase it without it sounding wrong. If he waited patiently, eventually she would voice it, whether she was satisfied with her verbiage or not.

"It will be but a short time now before we rejoin the rest of my tribe," she finally started. "When we do, will you leave me to go in search of Leeta?"

There, she got it out, and now it was Hig's turn to hesitate and think. He loved Lurde, and in more ways than he ever believed that it was possible to love a woman. He almost understood now what had transpired between his daughter Loté, and the young pilot, Rod.

Yet, he couldn't just ignore the time he spent with Leeta, and the life they'd shared. They possessed a history together, something he and Lurde had only just begun.

But on the other hand, when he thought of the history he had shared with Leeta, it seemed emotionally shallow compared to the time that he'd spent with Lurde.

Fortunately, for Loté and Rod, there wasn't anyone to get in their way, or be hurt by their actions, or so he believed.

"I must find my Leeta, and I must look after her, if she still lives," he said hesitantly. "I owe her that much."

"And what about me?"

"We had an arrangement with Leeta once before, maybe we can have something similar again," he said, sounding even lamer to his ears than it felt in his heart.

To his surprise, Lurde was willing to accept him, even on that basis. But things had changed drastically. "And what if she wants to be recycled like us, Hig? What then?" Suddenly on the verge of tears, she forced the following words out into the open before Hig could respond, "Will you fall in love with the woman you knew before that dreadful day she fell paralyzed to the ground?"

With a conviction that he didn't know he was capable of possessing, or even sure if it was her tears that had elicited it from him, he said, "I love you, Lurde. If and when I find Leeta, if she desires to be recycled, then I will do everything within my power to grant her that. But once she is young again, I will no longer feel any obligation to care for her." He paused for a moment, torn by the flow of tears from Lurde's beautiful eyes. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

Unable to stem the flow of tears, she smiled through pursed lips, reaching out through bleary eyes to embrace him. Putting his arms around her, he pulled her close, feeling her love for him stronger than ever. In his heart, he meant every word he said. Although he felt strongly for Leeta, this woman he held was the woman that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, no matter how long that might be.

He suddenly felt light-headed, as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. An important decision had been made, and he felt much better for it.

They were still locked in each other's embrace, when the first of the work details returned. They brought with them an odd assortment of carcasses, and a few that were readily recognizable.

Khan strolled by, stopping to confer with Hig for a moment. "I think it would be wise if we prepared the meat before setting out. Besides, the water party is still out. By the time they return, the meat might be ready."

Although Hig was anxious to get started away from the tunnel, he was bone tired and desperately in need of some rest. Leaning back against the thin covering of moss, he said with a smile, "Wake me when you're ready to move."

Khan, smiling back, simply nodded and winked at Lurde before continuing on his way. Hig's head was barely nestled against the warmth of the thinly veiled obsidian before he was sound asleep, totally secure in the knowledge that Lurde wouldn't let anything happen to him while he was in such a vulnerable state.

He awoke to the sound of many voices. They seemed distant and disassociated from him so he didn't feel any urgent sense of alarm. Rolling over, he bumped up against Lurde, who was also sound asleep on the ground beside him. Pushing himself up onto his elbows, he leaned over her sleeping face, amazed that a woman with such inner and outer beauty could find any attraction for him. And yet, she truly appeared to love him.

In her dream-state, she smiled softly with closed eyes, giving Hig the impression that she'd been reading his mind and feeling the warmth of his thoughts.

Then, as if she sensed his stare, her eyes dreamily opened. This time, her smile was definitely for him, and it was genuine, making his heart swell with her love.

"You're awake," she said groggily, reaching out and pulling his face close so that she could give him a kiss.

Their lips lingered on each other's for a long moment. When they finally pulled apart, Khan was coming toward them, his face beaming brightly.

"I'm glad to see the two of you are awake," he said in high spirits. "We have plenty of food to eat and water to drink, whenever you're ready to join the rest of us."

After rising to his feet and then helping Lurde to hers, Hig said, "I'm glad. I feel hungry enough to eat a mammoth whole."

"You're looking better, Khan," Lurde added, a sincere note in her voice.

"I'm feeling much better."

Hig looked down at the wounds to his upper thighs and noted how much better they appeared. Commenting to no one in particular, he said, "That salve is amazing stuff."

Lurde, following his gaze, had to agree. Then, her eyes shifting to his face, she reached forward and adjusted the bandage draped below his eyes and over the bridge of his nose so that she could inspect the wound there. Perplexed, she exclaimed, "The wound has stitched itself shut already!"

"Yes," Khan sourly agreed. "It would appear that the technology used beneath the surface of the planet is vastly superior to our own primitive artifacts."

"Then we'll just have to bring the technology to the surface so that everyone can share in its benefits!" proclaimed Lurde defiantly.

"Now wait a minute!" exclaimed Hig. "Until we get these people back to the safety of the tribe, no one is going on any more humanitarian journeys!"

Feigning disappointment and hurt, Lurde turned her lower lip out and pouted. Much to her delight, her coy act had the exact effect on Hig that she was hoping for; before her eyes, Hig visibly caved in, becoming a mound of clay for her dexterous fingers to mold and shape according to her desires.

Hig, realizing that she was toying with him, grabbed her by the arm and playfully shook her. Using his arm for leverage, she slid in close and kissed him on the cheek.

Before Hig could respond, Khan, feeling self-conscious and intrusive, interrupted them. "I have many things I need to attend to yet before we'll be ready to go, so if you want to get something to eat, see one of the girls over there."

He pointed in the general direction of the cooking area, and then hurriedly moved off toward a small gathering of men.

Laughing softly between them at the way they'd made Khan feel, they locked their fingers in each other's hands and headed toward the food.

After eating and drinking their fill, Hig wanted to find a quiet place to lie down and sleep some more. Lurde, however, was feeling antsy to get moving. Although she hadn't mentioned them, Hig sensed that she was worried about her sons.

He was about to tell her that he felt confident that they were okay, when Khan approached. "As soon as the provisions are made ready, we will be starting eastward."

Hig sensed the nervousness in his voice when he said 'eastward'.

"It'll be all right," he said confidently.

He was about to say more, when an outburst of voices and yelling came from the direction of the tunnel. Moving together, the three of them ran toward the source of the commotion, each drawing their respective weapons as they went.

Hig quickly took the lead, whether by sheer speed or the other's deference to him, it didn't matter. As he broke through the thinly growing vegetation, he saw what he had feared all along; pouring from the mouth of the tunnel was a steady stream of grime-laden, pale-skinned men and women.

To his immediate relief, none appeared to be armed. Yet, all were clearly sub-surface inhabitants as was evident by their pale complexions.

Hig was further relieved to see that the young men from Lurde's tribe that were armed were already surrounding them and keeping them gathered together.

Slowing to a walk, since they weren't needed, he looked on at the events unfolding before him. Without needing to be told, he suddenly understood that the quakes taking place beneath the surface were not normal occurrences. In fact, they were catastrophic events that were driving the inhabitants from below to the surface!

Raising his voice to be heard, he shouted loudly, "Don't hurt them, they mean us no harm!"

Khan and Lurde stood next to him, silently looking on as the ensuing pandemonium quickly became orderly. None of the people escaping the tunnel seemed interested in resisting; they were more concerned with their immediate welfare, which included trying to breathe.

They were further scurried along by a billowing cloud of dust, which settled over the entire area, blanketing everyone and everything. The leaves turned gray, dripping a thick substance similar to wet ashes. Immediately, a new sound erupted as Lurde's fellow tribe members started gasping and hacking for air, their respective bodies turning the same gray hue as the surrounding vegetation. Chaos suddenly seemed imminent.

"Move them eastward!" Khan yelled, amidst the increasing sound of thunder emanating from the depths below them.

Hig, the sound of the rumbling planet vibrating through his bones, turned to Lurde and shouted above the din, "Lead them!"

With a final caress of his hand on her arm, he nudged her eastward while turning toward the chaos. From his vantage point, he could see that the sub-surface dwellers were only confused as to where they should run, and thus added to the turmoil. He needed to make them aware of where they needed to go.

Though he screamed for order at the top of his lungs, he was barely audible above the rumble and shouting. Then, an idea suddenly came to him.

Frantically, his eyes searched out Khan amidst the dust and confusion. Moving with stealth through the turmoiling crowd, he came up behind Khan and grasped his long-knife, pulling it free of Khan's scabbard. Khan, unaware that it was Hig, and suspecting that it was a sub-surface dweller, clasped his hand over Hig's and spun to face him.

Hig saw his eyes light up with surprise followed by concern. Raising his long-knife in the air, he indicated that Khan should strike it with his own. With relief, Hig saw understanding replace the concern in Khan's eyes.

The blades rang out with the metallic sound of cold steel against cold steel. The effect on the people was immediate and startling. Between him and Khan, they had created the sound of battle, a sound both surface and sub-surface dwellers were quick to take notice of.

When the noise of screaming and yelling died down, and all eyes were focused on him and Khan, it became an easy matter of guiding them toward safety.

"Make sure we don't leave any of our supplies behind," Hig remarked to Khan as he was busily giving last minute instructions to his fellow tribe members.

The pale-skinned refugees quickly found Lurde and conceded to her lead. Hig was alarmed by the fright and bewilderment he saw in their panicked eyes. Not until later, when they were far enough from the tunnel to feel relatively safe would he discover that most of them had lived on the surface at one time or another in their past.

With the evacuation of the area progressing smoothly, Hig hurried to overtake Lurde. When it had become obvious to the pale-skinned people that she was leading them, she picked up the pace, forcing those behind to trot in order to keep up.

Drawing abreast of her, Hig wouldn't have been surprised to see fear in her eyes, or even a mild dose of panic. But instead, all he saw was determination.

Without a word, they jogged on for nearly five miles before slowing to a walk, and then finally stopping. Leaving Lurde to see to their new charges, Hig went in search of Khan. Along the way, he saw many familiar faces and many more blank or wild-eyed stares from the pale people that had emerged from the tunnel. What was originally a group of approximately thirty-five people had suddenly swelled to more than one hundred.

Finding Khan at the rear of the procession, he quickly relayed his count and concerns. "We will need many more supplies than we currently have. And we must find a large source of water."

"Yes," Khan agreed. "I share these same thoughts with you. I have no doubts that it will be put upon my fellow tribe members to look after these pale-skinned refugees until they can be taught how to forage and hunt on their own." Then, after glancing furtively around them to make sure they couldn't be overheard, he quickly added, "So far, I haven't witnessed any open hostility toward them, but I wouldn't be surprised if some of my people are holding grudges."

He had a good point. In the confusion and chaos of the moment, there was only concern for self-preservation. But once things settled down, it was very likely that some of his fellow tribe members might find it easy to blame these pale-skinned refugees for the death and hardships they've had to face recently.

Hig noticed also that he referred to his fellow tribe members as 'his' people. Although they'd been separated from the rest of his tribe for a long time, by all accounts more than an earth year, Hig suspected and hoped that Braun was still in charge. If that happened to be the case, Hig would be forced to choose sides if Khan challenged Braun for the leadership role. And despite his mixed emotions concerning Khan, he was learning to value him as both a friend and an ally. It would not be an easy decision to make, but one about which he had few qualms.

"You know as well as I do that these people had nothing to do with the slaughter of your friends and family."

"Yes, I understand that."

"Then why should anyone else have a problem understanding? For the most part, these people were slaves to the same people that ravaged your village. If anything, they share in your plight," Hig stated emphatically.

"I realize and understand what you are telling me," he slowly responded. "But I cannot take responsibility for their actions if they decide to exact revenge on the pale-skinned people."

Hig spit his disgust on the ground. Angrily, he said, "There was a time when I thought you deserved to lead your people. And although I couldn't endorse you for reasons entirely beyond your control, I still believed in you. Now," he spat again, a foul taste climbing up his throat and entering his mouth. "Now, I can see that my suspicions of you when we first entered the sub-surface, and even before that, were more accurate than I could have imagined."

Khan started to protest, but Hig quickly cut him off. "There was always something about you that didn't sit with me. Until this moment, I couldn't put my finger on it. But now I know. You are no better than the pale-warriors that killed so many of your tribe members, and tortured still others for their entertainment." He hesitated for a moment, his eyes locked on Khan's as he stared back defiantly, self-righteously. "Mark my words, Khan, if anyone harms any of these people while they are in our care, I will hold you personally responsible!"

Unable to maintain eye contact with Hig, Khan abruptly looked away. Almost inaudibly, he muttered, "I'll keep my people under control." Then, louder, he added, "But if they're provoked, I can't promise you the outcome."

When Hig got back to Lurde, he told her everything that had transpired between Khan and him. Her face sank as she looked on in silence at the sweat-grimed faces of the pale-skinned people resting near her. She hadn't even considered that anyone could blame these innocent people for the brutality inflicted upon her own people.

"Why do people have to be so cruel?" she asked of no one in particular, though he understood that she was referring to all people, and not just those that have done cruel acts.

"I don't know," he softly replied. And then, with more conviction, he added, "It will be up to us to look after these people until they can adjust and look after themselves. We must see to it that the cruel people of the world don't take advantage of them the way the pale-warriors did your people."

"How?" she asked, sounding more hopeless than he ever remembered her sounding.

"Any way we can!"

"But if..."

He didn't like seeing her this way and quickly cut her off. "No ifs," he flatly stated. "We will train these people so they can be productive members of your tribe, even if we have to do it single handedly."

"Yes, you're right," she finally agreed, her spirits rising. "There is no reason they should have to suffer any more than the rest of us." She paused before adding, "Although it pains me to say it, but if anyone tries to increase their hardship unduly, they will have to answer to me!"

"And me," he quickly chimed in.

"Don't count me out," came a voice from directly behind them.

Startled, Hig and Lurde spun around. It was Khan, and he looked sheepishly contrite, fidgeting from one foot to the other. "I'm sorry," he slowly started. Then, meeting Hig's gaze, he said "If I sounded uncaring towards these people earlier, it's only because I didn't take the time to consider the entire scenario." He paused for moment while he considered his next words. "You're absolutely right, they are innocent. We can't blame them for suffering the same wrongs that we have suffered ourselves."

"So why are you telling us this now?" Lurde boldly demanded of him.

"Because I wanted you both to know that if anything should happen, it will be against my will." He hesitated for a moment longer, and then added, "If there is anything I can do to help in their transition, just let me know."

He turned to go, but Hig stopped him. "Khan," he said compassionately. Khan stopped and slowly turned back to face him. "Thank you."

Khan simply nodded, then turned and headed back the way he'd come. When he was a short distance away, he called back, "Lead out whenever you're ready. I'll bring up the rear."

Turning toward Lurde, Hig grumbled good-naturedly, "That guy just makes it so damn hard to dislike him."

"The question isn't whether you like him or not, it's whether you trust him, or not?"

"I know," he replied surly. "I know."

She waited for a moment, enduring the awkward silence that ensued, determined to wait and see if he would tell her whether he trusted Khan or not. When it appeared he wasn't ready to make the commitment, she abruptly changed the subject, saying instead, "I'll see to our new charges and let you know if they're ready to travel."

Rising to her feet, she glanced only briefly at Hig before turning toward the nearer of the pale-skinned people. In that brief glimpse, she noted that his eyes weren't focused on anything humanly visible; his mind was a million miles away.

### **13**

After checking on more than a dozen of the refugees, and striking up several conversations, Lurde learned that catastrophic times had settled upon the dwellers of the sub-surface. Although it couldn't be confirmed, it seemed to be generally accepted that the quakes were the results of humanly generated events. She also learned that there were two people, surface-dwellers to be exact, which had sparked a revolution among the slaves and soldiers of the two ruling tyrants.

She was intrigued at the way their eyes lit up when they spoke of the man and woman responsible for their freedom. Although none claimed that they had met the man or woman personally, they clearly revered them, just the same.

Fascinated by their stories, she asked if they knew the names of the surface dwellers that were responsible for their freedom. Without hesitation, Captain Rodick burst from their mouths. However, none were quite sure of the woman's name, only that she was reputed to be beautiful beyond belief.

The man telling her this shyly averted his eyes from her while adding, "She is almost as beautiful as you."

"You're too kind," she quickly responded, feeling flattered and self-conscious.

Returning to Hig, she simply stated that the refugees were ready to travel, but that they sorely needed food and water.

Eager to be moving and to have something else to occupy his mind besides Khan, Hig drew his long-knife and raised it above his head. Immediately, men and women rose to their feet and stretched their limbs, readying themselves for the trek ahead.

When the column of people were several miles into their new journey, Lurde decided it was time to share the details with Hig of what she had learned from the refugees. She knew he would be elated, and it had been hard keeping it from him, but she didn't want the moment clouded by thoughts of Khan.

"The quakes in the tunnels were the cause of human error and neglect," she said softly, glancing out of the corner of her eye to see his expression.

"I figured as much," he simply stated.

"There is a revolt going on among the slaves and soldiers of two powerful dictators." She paused again, watching surreptitiously to see if she had piqued his interest yet. When he didn't respond, she slowly continued. "The cause is being sparked by a man and his mate. They are surface dwellers, like us." She knew she had his attention now, as his head quickly turned in her direction. "They say the man's name is Rod, and that his mate is a very beautiful woman."

Hig almost tripped at the sound of the man's name. It would be too coincidental for the man to be anyone other than the pilot, Captain Rodick, which meant the woman had to be his beautiful daughter, Loté.

Yet, it seemed almost too good to be true. Lurde could see the anxiety in his face as he looked questioningly at her. "Rod, as in Captain Rodick?" he anxiously demanded. When she nodded back, a smile lighting up her face, he asked, "Why did you wait to tell me this?"

"I was afraid that if I told you sooner, you would have spent too much time with the refugees, pressing them for more information, and it seemed more important at the time that we should get moving."

Her answer sounded lame to her own ears, and yet, Hig didn't question it; she was absolutely correct, he would have wasted time trying to find out more information when they needed to be on the move and in search of food and water.

"Do you have more?" he asked expectantly.

"No, I'm afraid that's all I have. None of them actually met Rod or the woman with him."

Hig's step was light and full of optimism. He didn't doubt for a minute that his Loté was capable of stirring up a revolution. He was so proud of her, he felt as if he were going to explode. Moreover, that meant his Loté and Rod were together, a union that he whole-heartedly approved of.

Lurde noticed the change come over him, and was glad that she had played a part in it.

"Continue the pace, Lurde," he said excitedly, turning back toward the following refugees. "I must find out more."

"Hig, no!" she gently scolded him. "These people are tired, hungry, and suffering from dehydration, they don't need you pestering them with questions; they need their strength for the journey. Wait until we find water and can stop."

His mood only slightly soured by her logic and compassion, he increased the pace slightly, barely able to restrain an urgency to reach the first pool of water, and with it, a chance to question the refugees.

After several more miles, Hig was beginning to doubt that they would ever find a source of water large enough to slake everyone's thirst, when he suddenly spotted a glint of reflected moonlight through the increasingly denser vegetation. Raising the long-knife to signify a halt, he hurried on ahead with Lurde close behind.

Breaking through a stand of broadleaved plants, he almost lost his footing on a patch of damp, slippery moss that sloped downward to a half-filled crater. Grabbing wildly at the nearest branches, he barely kept himself upright and out of the water.

Lurde, coming up fast behind him, also slid on the wet patch of moss, only managing to stop herself by grabbing Hig about the waist and holding on.

"Water!" she cried excitedly.

"Yes, let's tell the others."

With Lurde still holding tightly to his mid-section, he turned back toward the direction they'd come from, and then abruptly caught his breath.

In their haste to confirm that the glint of fractured light was indeed glare off the surface of a pool of water, they hadn't noticed what was half-buried by vines and vegetation, and lying just feet from the water's edge; a huge, hair-covered carcass! Hig recognized it as that of a dead behemoth immediately.

But was it the behemoth that had once carried him and Leeta to safety, only to later carry his Leeta out of his life? Could it possibly be? Or was he just shocked by the sight of such a large corpse so far to the west, and letting his imagination run away?

Still holding onto him, Lurde calmly said, "It can't be the same behemoth."

It wasn't necessary for her to be any more explicit; Hig knew to which behemoth she was referring.

Pushing away from the slippery moss and pulling Lurde with him, he said, "Help me search the area before the others arrive."

"Sure," she tentatively replied.

They looked around the carcass of the behemoth first, slowly working their way outward. "How could it possibly have gotten this far west?" she asked when their paths almost intersected in their individual searches.

"I don't know," he said honestly, equally baffled.

Because Leeta had been paralyzed, they both understood that she couldn't have dragged herself very far, if indeed, she had still been on the poor beast's back when it came to the end of its life. After a cursory study of the carcass, it was easily determined that it hadn't been fed on by roving beasts or marauders, so it wasn't very likely that anything had dragged Leeta's body off.

Working in an ever-widening circle, they hastily studied the area, searching for signs of a human corpse. When they were still less than fifty feet from the carcass, Khan arrived, followed by several of the men. Unaware of Hig and Lurde's motives, he simply asked, "Is it safe to bring the others?"

"Yes," Lurde called back to him. "There is plenty of water here."

Khan gave orders to the men with him, which turned and hurried back toward the trail and the waiting people, before working his way to Lurde. She knew his curiosity had been piqued by Hig's and her actions, and wasn't sure how much to tell him. It wasn't any secret, but it was Hig's place, not hers. She decided to be discreet and let Hig fill him in on the details if he felt so inclined.

"What are you looking for, Lurde?" he asked, when they were close enough to speak normally.

"We were studying the area to see if the dead behemoth was carrying a rider when it died," she simply replied.

"And was it?"

"Not that we can find."

After a moment's hesitation, Khan asked, "What made you think that it might be?"

Unable to lie, she said, "Hig's mate was last seen heading west strapped to the back of a behemoth. We thought this might be the same beast."

"Is it?"

"We can't tell. The creature is too decomposed."

Abruptly, she turned away and continued her search effort. Khan, not wanting to push the issue for the moment, turned and rejoined the group at the pool.

Lurde was angry with him for putting her on the spot the way he had. But she was even angrier with herself for letting him.

Speaking from just a few short feet away, Hig's voice suddenly startled her. To her amazement and immediate anger, he had been eavesdropping on her conversation with Khan! Because he hadn't spoken up and come to her aid while Khan was grilling her for information, her anger was further fueled. She felt betrayed by his inaction.

"She's not here!" she blurted angrily, and then abruptly turned on her heel and heatedly retreated back toward the water.

Startled and confused by her outburst, Hig silently looked on, wanting desperately to call out to her, and yet, sensing that he shouldn't.

Throwing caution to the wind, he called out, "Lurde!"

She stopped abruptly, her back stiff, and her feet planted firmly on the ground. Yet, she refused to turn and face him. If he wanted to speak with her, he would have to come around to her front, or carry on a conversation with her backside.

Hig quickly hurried around to put himself in her path, should she decide to walk away from him before he was finished. Planting his feet with the same determination that she had her own, they stood face to face, their eyes locked on each other's.

Hig could see the fire and sparks flashing deep within the dark pools of her eyes. Lurde, meanwhile, saw the depth of his love, and an equal determination not to back down or give up on her. She could feel her spirit quailing beneath his gaze, her resolve and anger swiftly melting with each beat of her heart.

Reaching up and gently placing his hands upon her shoulders, he asked of her, "What have I done to upset you? Just tell me, and I will undo it!"

"You could have spoken up so that I didn't have to remain in such an awkward position with Khan!" she blurted angrily, suddenly on the verge of tears.

"What are you talking about? What did Khan do to you? I'll kill the bastard for hurting you like this!"

Understanding suddenly blossomed in her mind. Because of Hig's sudden appearance upon Khan's departure, she had jumped to the conclusion that he had been there, within earshot, all the time! When in reality, because she had been so distracted, she just hadn't seen him approach.

Feeling weak in the knees, she put her hands on his outstretched arms for support. Her tears were flowing unabated. She felt foolish and ashamed for having doubted him.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, her throat choked up with emotion.

His hands moving behind her back, he pulled her into his embrace and held her tight. Softly, he consoled her, though he didn't understand why she was acting the way she was. He resisted asking her, confident that she would tell him when she was ready. For the moment, he was content to just hold her in his arms and feel the softness of her body against his.

When her tears dried, they walked back to the pool and the others. Just before they reached it, she held him back and explained her outburst toward him. He was instantly angry with Khan for treating her the way he had. In his mind, it was none of Khan's business what they did or didn't do. Soon enough, he hoped, they would rejoin Lurde's tribe and discover Leeta's fate. Although he suspected the carcass near the pool was from the creature that had carried her off, he couldn't be sure.

Maybe if he inspected it closer, he might find a something more definitive, he thought to himself.

"Go ahead, rejoin the others, and procure us some supplies for the journey. There is something I want to look at. I'll be right along."

Though she looked questioningly at him, she knew that he would explain everything to her when he was ready. Leaving him alone, she continued on to the pool.

As soon as she was amongst the others, Hig turned toward the far side of the pool, where the decaying carcass laid half submerged in vines and vegetation. Once the pond completely filled, and it would with the condensation brought on by lower temperatures, the carcass would be submerged beneath the water. But that was still some time away.

As he approached it, he drew his long-knife and hacked away most of the tangling vines. Getting next to the rotting, stinking carcass, he lowered himself to his knees and inspected the belly area next to the ground. Despite the advanced degree of decomposition, the beast was still much too heavy to move. Also, the flesh was soft and wet; if he pressed against it, it would easily separate from the bones and spill out the maggot infested and rotting innards.

But he didn't need to move it to see what he had come to see. Protruding out from under the beast's belly was a length of leather cord; the same cord that Loté had initially used to secure her mother and him to its back. He recognized it despite its advanced stage of decomposition, because he had fashioned and cured the cord himself. His methods were unique to him; as far as he knew, it was highly improbable that anyone else would cut leather the same as he.

He had seen enough to believe that he was looking at the one and same beast!

But where was Leeta?

When he got back to the other side of the pool, he found Lurde mingling with the refugees. He thought it odd that she would prefer the company of strangers to her fellow tribe members. But then, her fellow tribe members had changed so drastically; they too, were strangers to her.

As he approached her, she turned from where she was sitting on the ground and smiled up at him. Dropping to his knees beside her, he said, "That is the same behemoth."

"How do you know?" she asked, perplexed.

"I found cording beneath its belly that I recognize as my own."

"I'm sorry," she said softly, indicating that this knowledge could only mean that Leeta was dead.

"No, it's all right," he said easily. "That doesn't mean Leeta wasn't helped off the behemoth at some point, only that the behemoth made it this far west before dying." He hesitated a moment before adding, "We were gone a long time, almost a year in earth time. Much could have happened in that time. But what I don't understand is that the carcass can't be more than six month's old at the most."

"If that's correct," she went on, "then the poor creature must have run right into the setting sun!"

"Or at least until it dehydrated in the extreme heat."

"So, what happens now?" she asked tentatively.

"I look for a crippled old woman on her own, or with friends looking after her."

"Then I will look with you," she said determinedly.

Meeting her gaze, he said, "Thank you. But before you agree, you need to understand that we'll have to leave the group behind. I intend to travel much faster than they."

"Then I shall travel fast, too," she replied spiritedly.

"If you can procure us some supplies and flagons of water, I'll tell Khan of our decision. I'm sure he won't be too disappointed to learn that I'm leaving and he'll be the undisputed leader in charge."

Rising to her feet, she smiled happily, saying excitedly, "I've got everything we'll need already set aside."

"I'll be right back," he said on a par with her excitement.

It took Hig only a minute to find Khan. He was surrounded by fellow tribe members, and they were talking furtively. Hig didn't like the feeling he got as he approached; they were up to something, and he suspected it had to do with the pale-skinned refugees.

"Khan," he called out as he drew near.

The men standing near Khan quickly stepped away, giving him room, their eyes averting Hig.

Khan, unaware of Hig's intentions for confronting him, jumped to the wrong conclusions. Instead of waiting to hear him out, and eventually learn that he and Lurde intended to head out on their own, he wrongly assumed that Hig suspected a devious plan, and that he had come to put a stop to it.

Khan, in his sick and twisted mind, was planning to make the pale-skinned people pay for his fellow tribe member's suffering at the pale-skinned warriors' hands.

"It's too late, Hig," he called back, his hand resting lightly on the hilt of the long-knife strapped to his hip.

Hig immediately recognized the stance, and what it implied. "It's never too late, Khan," he called back, hoping that Khan would tip his hand, allowing him to figure out just what the hell was going on.

"Them pale people have to pay!" he screamed hysterically at Hig, drawing everyone's attention. "Just ask anyone!"

Hig could see Khan's mental state disintegrating before his eyes. The man had slipped over the edge. Whether it had been a direct result of having been recycled or not, Hig wasn't sure. It might simply have been the strain of taking in too much knowledge too fast; they had gone through a lot since the rogues raided his village. Obviously, it was more than Khan could mentally cope with.

The men that he'd been conferring with were hastily backing away from him, putting as much distance between him and them as possible. If there had been any doubt in their minds about his mental condition earlier, it had been salted away. Hig hoped they were only going along with him because they looked up to him as an authority figure, and not because any of them sincerely believed the pale people needed punishing.

It was time to pry the crack open and bring the situation to a head.

"Look around you, Khan; no one is going to punish anyone for you! These poor people have done nothing wrong. Let it go, it's over."

"No!" he screamed back at him.

Lurde came through the crowd and stood beside Hig. "Give him a chance to leave, Hig," she pleaded softly with him.

"You have a choice, Khan, just like in the olden days!" he paused a moment, noting with interest the way Khan's head jerked to the side and then back. If he didn't know any better, he would have sworn another being had entered Khan's psyche.

Smiling insanely, Khan drew the long-knife and waved it wildly about his head, his eyes glued to the tip of it, his head moving about his shoulders in an effort to keep up with it. To Hig, it appeared as if someone else were brandishing the long-knife while Khan stared in fascination.

Drawing his own long-knife, Hig indicated for Lurde to step back with the others. Everyone had originally pressed forward to watch the excitement, now they had retreated into a large oval, leaving almost forty feet across for the two combatants.

Holding his weapon horizontally in front of his chest, Hig felt as if he were about to fight two men at the same time. One was little more than a coward and a sneak, while the other was a vicious conniving warrior who would stoop to any tactics so long as he won. Neither of who would hesitate to kick him while he was down. But in this battle, a kick easily translated into death.

"I'll give you the choice, old man," Khan stated almost casually, referring to Hig as he was before being recycled.

It bothered Hig that the wildness never left his eyes.

"Then let's get this over with."

Although Hig knew he was entering a battle to the death, he still held out hope that Khan would come to his senses. Or, if nothing else, he would only have to wound the man. Yet, regardless of what he hoped, he was prepared to kill him, and with his mind thus set, he stepped forward to do battle.

They met near the center of the oval, their blades crashing against each other's amidst a shower of sparks and shards of metal. Their bodies were both young, full of strength and exuberance. Though each possessed varying degrees of skill and knowledge, they were both in the prime of their lives. Yet, if there was any advantage to be had, it would lay with Khan, and the relaxed fit of his new body, since he was a young man when he'd been recycled; Hig was still learning to adapt to his anew. It was a distinct advantage for Khan, but one that Hig felt confident he could overcome with the wisdom of age.

Hig lunged forward, forcing Khan to retreat. He felt that he possessed the mental advantage, and was determined to take full advantage of it.

Yet, despite his fiercest efforts, Khan fought back as a man possessed. His face was set in a maddening grin, while drool spurted from between clenched teeth. Hig felt certain that if he had been a younger, less experienced man, Khan's actions would have unnerved him. But he wasn't the young man that housed his spirit; he was old and wizened beneath the firm, supple skin. It would take decidedly more than a crazy grin and wild, crazy eyes to distract him.

There was much more riding on this fight than just his life, or that of Khan's; there was the future of each pale-skinned refugee looking on from the side lines. If Khan beat him, they would be the next to suffer.

While all of that weighed heavily on his mind, there was another, even more disturbing thought driving him.

Lurde.

Hig harbored no doubts that if something happened to him, cousin or not, Khan would force Lurde to be his subservient woman. Even if she openly refused him, he would still find a way to take her so he could have her for himself.

Despite the outcome of this fight, Hig couldn't let that happen!

Khan stood several inches taller than he, and his arms were proportionately longer. Despite Hig's best efforts to thwart Khan's defenses, Khan was slowly turning the scales in his favor. Before Hig even realized that the momentum had changed, Khan was the aggressor, and he was on the defensive, slowly giving ground to Khan's superior reach.

Both of them were unaccustomed to the high temperatures and higher humidity; their bodies glistened with sweat in the bright moonlight. The low-growing vegetation beneath their feet was quickly pummeled and mashed into a soft, soggy mess. Yet, the course obsidian provided excellent footing. No one would die from a fateful slip of his foot, at least not intentionally.

As Khan bore down on him, his blade poised above his head for a downward strike, Hig dropped to his knees, feigning fatigue and poor footing. It was a desperate move on Hig's part; one that he hoped would draw Khan in close.

Khan, whether he suspected the ploy or not, brought his blade down toward Hig's head with maniacal force, intent on cloving his skull. Hig's only option was to parry the blow with his own weapon, and roll out from under Khan's assault.

Unable to swing his weapon offensively, Hig sadly realized that the fight had become Khan's, and defense was his sole option; his life suddenly depended on his instinctive skill of defensive survival. Khan was untiring, relentlessly driving forward, despite his best moves. And while Khan seemed to be drawing on boundless energy as of a man possessed, Hig was quickly tiring. His youthful physique was not enough against the crazed, adrenaline induced mind of his assailant.

On his haunches, his blade held shakily before his eyes, Hig blocked a full arm swing of Khan's weapon, feeling the shock of the blow through his shoulders and upper torso. Then, almost before he could right his blade, Khan was swinging backhanded, hoping to catch the fatigued Hig off balance and unprepared.

Khan drew strength from the sight of his opponent weakening. And though Hig couldn't believe that it was physically possible, each blow felt as though it struck with more force than the one before it.

Suddenly Khan stopped, his eyes never leaving Hig's own. With his weapon held level across his chest, he stepped back and allowed Hig to rise.

Slowly, his breath coming in loud, labored gasps, Hig planted his feet and drew up into his fighting stance. Khan was smiling now, toying with his prey; this was a look that found a chink in Hig's armor. Hig suddenly wondered from what otherworldly source Khan was drawing his stamina.

Stepping toward him, his weapon raised level with Hig's, Khan suddenly lashed out, their weapons coming together just inches from Hig's face. Numbed by the blow, his eyes locked on the fiery-hot metal. Every knick and scratch stood out with surreal clarity on the highly polished steel.

Dazed, he sluggishly pushed the blades away from his face, when the crash of metal against metal suddenly blinded him. Squinting against the salty brine of sweat running into his eyes, he slowly grew aware of a dull numbness in his left shoulder. With increasing intensity, a searing pain quickly erupted.

Glancing down toward the source, he was shocked to see beyond his skin, and into a large, gaping wound. Dumbstruck by the sight, he watched as blood seeped out from beneath the surrounding skin, quickly filling the gash with a crimson liquid.

While Hig stood in shock, mesmerized by the sight of his injury, Khan could have easily finished him off. But instead, he stepped back again, not content with such an easy victory.

Hig, suddenly coming out of his stupor, wondered why the fatal blow wasn't forthcoming, and slowly turned to face Khan. He was shocked to see his blade lying shattered in pieces on the ground before him; he was defenseless, and completely at Khan's mercy, if the man was capable of any mercy.

His smile never wavering, he stated, rather than asked of Hig, "You know what your failure means to these people."

When Hig didn't immediately respond, he quickly continued, a hint of anger creeping into his voice "Or have you even considered that?" He paused, though he didn't expect Hig to reply. "Since we first met, you have lorded it over me! First, you had to show me up with your wisdom! Then, you had to profess your concern for these pale-skinned, lowly ancestors of the butchers that killed our friends and families!"

He was spouting and spitting, his words sounding slightly slurred to Hig's ringing ears. But his next words rang loud and clear, taking Hig completely by surprise. Looking sidelong at Lurde, a sadistic longing in his eyes, he said, "You couldn't back off when you saw that I was interested in the woman. You had to flaunt her before me, showing off a mistaken sexual prowess! When I get through with her, she won't be fit for any man!"

If he had harbored any thoughts before, he knew without a doubt now that he couldn't let Khan live, at any cost!

With all of his speed and agility, he lunged toward Khan, the blunt end of the remaining few inches of his blade clutched desperately in his right hand.

But even before he fully left his feet, Khan was reacting with even greater swiftness and agility. Committed to his attack, Hig was unable to swerve and compensate for Khan's sidestepping dance. As he harmlessly sailed by, Khan simply brought the hilt of his weapon down on the back of his head, driving him solidly down to the ground.

Landing hard on his chest and stomach, the remaining air in his lungs shot out in a whoosh, leaving him gasping and helpless, while fighting back nausea and dizziness from the blow to his head.

Rolling over onto his hands and knees, his eyes slowly came back into focus, and he was looking straight into the madman's face. As he raised his head up, Khan pressed the tip of his long-knife against the bottom of Hig's throat; he was completely at Khan's mercy, or lack thereof.

"I'm going to kill you, old man," he said calmly. "What do you have to say about that?"

Hig, his breathing almost steadied despite the pain and exertions, simply stated, "If you fail, I will see you in Hell!"

Khan's face suddenly contorted with pain, and he tried to speak, but no sound came forth. Slowly, as if he were moving in slow motion, he leaned toward Hig, almost casually pushing the point of the long-knife before him.

But Hig wasn't ready to die, and easily backed up on his haunches, grasping Khan's scarred and chipped blade in his hands. There was a distinct tightness from the wound in his left arm, but it still did his bidding. As Khan overbalanced, he slowly fell forward, his hate-filled eyes glazing over, and the fire within going out.

Surprised and confused, Hig forced himself to his feet, shifting Khan's weapon around until he held it by the hilt. Face down before him, a knife protruding from between his shoulder blades, laid the lifeless corpse of a madman.

Looking up, Hig noticed a man standing apart from the crowd of Khan's staunchest supporters. He recognized the man immediately, Jun!

Lurde, her own long-knife held ready in her right hand, had come up beside him. Following his eyes, she too saw Jun standing apart from the others. Although there was no proof as to who threw the short-bladed weapon, Lurde quickly recognized it as the one she had given Jun when they were back in the recycling lab. But she was loath to say anything; she too, had been prepared to kill Khan, despite him being her cousin. She would not have let Hig die!

After turning around until he had faced the entire crowd, Hig raised his voice and cried out, "Let the madness stop here!" He was still brandishing Khan's chipped and scarred long-knife, waving it almost threateningly.

It was a challenge to anyone that didn't agree with his regards toward the pale-skinned refugees, and everyone recognized it as such.

"It's time to get out of here, Hig," Lurde whispered softly. "The refugees will be fine, but our lives are in danger now."

"Fetch your pack, and be quick."

Striding confidently across the clearing, Lurde casually returned her long-knife to its sheath, and headed in the direction where she'd left her stash of supplies and water. Looking straight ahead, she realized that she would have to break through the ranks of onlookers surrounding the fight. Though she strode confidently toward them, her resolve was quavering. She had no idea what she would do if they refused to give her passage.

Suddenly, from the ranks of the pale refugees, a lone man stepped forward. In his outstretched arms, he held Lurde's supplies. Behind him, a woman carried forth the flagons of water that she had prepared for her and Hig. The two people were smiling at her, as were those standing behind them.

Taking the proffered supplies, Lurde suddenly realized that she recognized the man as the same one that had given her and Hig a compliment earlier. She graciously thanked him, to which he replied, "Our thanks are to you, my lovely lady."

"Thank you, anyway," she insisted, taking the flagons from the woman after slinging the pack of supplies over her left shoulder.

She started to turn away, and then a thought came to her. "If you have any trouble with any of them, remind them that Hig and I will be rejoining my tribe soon."

To her amazement, the man simply winked at her and said, "We vastly outnumber those that don't like us. There won't be any problems."

He had a point; the pale refugees outnumbered her fellow tribe members by three to one. It mattered little that they were unarmed; neither were many of Lurde's tribe.

Returning to Hig's side, she noticed that he'd retrieved what was left of his long-knife. Without a word, he slid the pieces into her pack.

"I'm all set," she calmly stated, though her insides were quaking with excitement and anxiety.

Because of the manner in which Khan and his followers had treated her and Hig, she didn't harbor the sensation of belonging that she'd felt prior for her former tribe. And though she understood that it wasn't a fair way to feel toward those that hadn't done them any harm, she found she couldn't help herself. Maybe, after the two pieces of her tribe were reunited, she would adapt and learn to accept them anew. Until then, she was glad to be leaving them behind and setting out with Hig.

"Are you sure you want to leave with me?" he suddenly asked, the absurdity of his question surprising her.

"Yes. Are you sure you want me?"

"We'll discuss that later," he flippantly remarked.

Casually, they strode from the clearing of trampled ground and headed east. The refugees, along with the remainder of Lurde's fellow tribe members would remain camped where they were until the rest of her tribe joined up with them. They were near an abundant supply of water and there was plenty of familiar game to hunt. Although Hig would have enjoyed remaining there for a time so that his fresh wounds could heal, he felt a growing urgency to close another chapter in his life, Leeta.

He wasn't sure what he would do if they found her alive. Nor did he know what he would do if they never found her. It would be foolish of him to continue searching for her forever, when he had a new life with a beautiful woman that loved him, hanging in limbo. Before he could pursue a future with Lurde, he had to resolve his past with Leeta!

### **14**

Traveling alone, they made good time, despite the awkward sensation brought on from traveling eastward. Nonetheless, both of them had been conditioned to some degree when they jaunted off to the northwest, prior to discovering the sub-surface.

Yet, the instinct to travel westward was difficult to overcome. It had been ingrained into mankind for centuries. Even after several days of travel, each time they awoke, they had to fight the urge to start off toward the west.

After several weeks into their journey, they'd met many different tribes, all of which held them in high esteem upon seeing their awesome weapons. And yet, all questioned their motives because of the direction they were traveling.

As time went by, Hig began to believe they would never learn what became of Leeta, while Lurde grew more concerned about her tribe. Both agreed that they should have come across them by now, and yet, they were as scarce as was any word of Leeta.

In their fourth week, Hig awoke to the sound of voices. Rolling over, he nudged Lurde, holding a finger to her lips for silence. They had gotten into the habit of making camp several hundred feet from the main trail. The voices were coming from the trail, and Hig quickly assumed it was just another passing band heading west like all the others.

Stretched out on the warm, soft moss, he was feeling extremely comfortable, and didn't like the prospect of having to confront strangers again so soon after their last encounter. Yet, he understood that a large part of the quest that him and Lurde were on was dependent upon gathering information, and that required them to approach every group possible.

Although it didn't strike him as odd in any way what so ever, it didn't escape his attention that this was the first time a group passed them while they were resting. Because of their eastward progress, the tribes they encountered were usually camped, or they met the advance scouts. But always, they did the approaching. It was preferable to Hig and Lurde to meet new groups when they were encamped and set up to receive guests, and that is how he would have preferred meeting this group.

He wondered to himself if they should discreetly follow the tribe until they stopped to rest, and then approach them from the rear, pretending simply to have overtaken them. Just as quickly, as the idea entered his mind, he flung it out; they couldn't afford to waste time back tracking for miles, and then not ascertain any useful information. They would be better off if they simply ignored the passing tribe, and then continue their journey eastward later, when they were rested.

Nevertheless, Hig knew they couldn't do that either. Until they confronted the people whose voices unknowingly drifted to them through the vegetation, they would wonder what, if any, information might have slipped through their fingers. Hig couldn't discount the possibility that someone knew what had become of Leeta, and he couldn't risk missing it!

Begrudgingly, he rolled over and got his feet under him, all the while thinking that if this tribe's customs were the same as most tribes they'd encountered, and both Hig and Lurde were amazed by the number of different tribes they'd encountered on their brief journey eastward, tradition would dictate that they make camp and entertain their guests.

Although Hig found most tribe's customs to be dry, boring, and tedious, it was the accepted method of exchanging news and information among all but a few that they'd met. Under normal circumstances, when a traveling tribe overtook another tribe, a fair amount of trade would also take place. But since Hig and Lurde had little more than the remaining fragments from his broken long-knife for trade material, they had to rely on a healthy exchange of information. This, in most cases, was all they ever really wanted from the tribes they'd encountered.

So, it wasn't out of any concern for their safety, or a portent of impending harm, that caused him to stand silently a short distance from the trail. Instead, it was just the simple fact that he wasn't ready to face more strangers. In addition, and he stopped himself short of iterating it aloud to Lurde, but they had traversed a long distance just a few scant hours earlier, and his legs were still stiff from the exertion.

Reaching down, he extended his hand and helped her to her feet. Standing beside him, she looked almost anxiously toward the trail, trying hard to decipher the tonal sounds drifting to them.

Sensing something different about her, Hig asked, "What is it? What do you hear?"

"I don't know," she quickly replied, almost off-handedly. Then, her expression turning serious, she said, "No, it can't be."

"What is it?" he softly demanded, concerned and not understanding.

After a moment's silence, in which she strained her ears toward the trail, she said, "I'm not sure, but for a moment there, the sounds were so familiar, I was taken aback. It was almost as if I was back with my tribe, and we were on the move. I closed my eyes, and for the briefest of moments, it was as if it were happening."

Turning and retrieving their weapons from the ground, he handed hers to her before strapping on his own. After checking the slide of the blade in the leather sheath, he scooped up their meager supplies and said, "Come."

Although it would have been immensely easier to just approach the strangers from the rear, since they'd already passed the place where Hig and Lurde had left the trail, Hig decided to get ahead of them. He intended to be waiting for them in the trail. Even to him, a man that never took unnecessary risks, this extra measure of precaution seemed like overkill. Yet, he couldn't discount Lurde's reaction to the voices they'd heard. Something was different about this band of strangers, and he wanted to know what it was before placing Lurde and himself at their mercy.

Moving stealthily and with great speed, they quickly overtook the trailing members of the band. They estimated the distance separating them by the sounds coming from the traveler's procession, rather than risking visual contact. Maintaining a parallel route to that of the strangers, it didn't take long for Hig to further determine their numbers, approximately two hundred, all told.

After pacing the leaders for several minutes, Hig also felt something strange in the quality and lilt of the voices that carried to them.

Because the planet had been colonized by people that all spoke the same language, a culmination of Earth's varied dialects, each of the tribes on the surface, and even the people they'd met below the surface, spoke the same basic language. Yet, there were many varying dialects that had developed in the individual tribes. Just as different religions and superstitions had sprung up, so to were the inflections given their words.

The way Lurde's voice sounded like music to Hig's ears was just one of the many things about her that fascinated him. While his own voice sounded flat and unexciting to him, hers had a musical quality that discreetly accented the meanings of her words, adding clarity and understanding that was more subliminal than not.

Although they had expected to come across Lurde's tribe sooner, it had begun to seem impossible that they would ever find them. Now, when they least expected it, Hig suddenly felt sure that they had found the remaining members.

With growing anxiety, he whispered to Lurde, "That might be your tribe."

The glow in her face and the excitement in her eyes told him that she had been thinking the same thoughts. "I'm almost afraid to let myself believe that it could be them," she nervously replied.

"We'll get ahead of them and watch their approach from the trail." When she turned to lead, he put a restraining hand on her shoulder, holding her back. There was something more he wanted to say so that she could prepare herself.

"Yes?" she asked, looking anxiously at his restraining hand.

"If it is your tribe, Braun should be in the lead," he hesitated a moment before continuing. "If he isn't, we should be prepared for the unexpected. We mustn't forget that Mang might have rejoined them, or even Gelid."

"They blamed Mang for the ambush when it was Gelid that sold us out," she angrily spat, remembering the betrayal anew.

"Yes. And if Gelid has returned to your tribe, he will have recruited allies to fortify his position and safety. He will be surprised and frightened if he sees us. He might even try to kill us before we can talk, in order to keep us quiet."

"A lot has probably happened since we left," she softly concurred. "You're right, we must not let our emotions cloud our judgment, nor dull our senses."

"Exactly."

She sounded strong and logical, yet he knew she was quivering inside with excitement and hope, and more than just a little bit of longing. He wanted to protect her from a possible disappointment, or worse. But she was a strong woman, and he would have to let her have her head. The most he could do was look out for her physically, and be there if she needed him emotionally.

Lurde took the lead, working her way through the low growing vegetation with Hig close behind. When they were several hundred feet ahead of the column of people, they turned sharply to their left and proceeded to the trail.

It was easy to distinguish the trail from the surrounding jungle again, unlike farther to the west, near where they had emerged from the subsurface. The trail had seen many thousands of pair's of feet, most of which Lurde and Hig had also seen. Yet, despite their travels and inquiries, no one had seen or heard of the paralyzed woman strapped to the behemoth.

Hig didn't doubt any longer that the carcass he'd found near the pond was the same one that they'd befriended, but there wasn't any sign of his Leeta, dead or alive. The lack of a human corpse near the behemoth's carcass had both buoyed his hopes, and dashed them.

Their journey had been a long one, and if their instincts and senses were correct, they were about to come full circle. They were older, much wiser, and in the prime of their lives. They were ready to face the approaching people, both physically and mentally, regardless of whom they were or their intentions.

Standing abreast in the center of the trail, the blades of their long-knives resting casually across their left forearms, the hilts grasped securely in their right hands, they patiently waited for the first to arrive and take notice of them.

Suddenly, momentarily startling Hig, Lurde cried out and charged forward, leaving him standing alone. With a mixture of joy and relief flooding through him, he smiled after her retreating back, feeling better than he could ever remember.

Braun, leading the procession, didn't recognize his mother, or the man that held back, farther up the trail. But there was something familiar about her voice, and there could be no denying her obvious joy at the sight of him.

Seeing her son appear before her on the trail, Lurde suddenly broke. All of her pent up emotions poured forth in a rush. Overcome with excitement and emotion, she sheathed her weapon as she ran toward him, her arms held out wide to embrace him.

Braun didn't sense any danger from the young woman, and hence, didn't draw his weapon. Instead, the familiarity of her grew proportionately with each step that drew her nearer, until he felt that he should know her; she obviously recognized him!

"Braun! My son," she called out to him.

At the sound of his name, Braun suddenly grew wary. The short hairs on the back of his neck prickled and rose; there was something wrong with the situation unfolding before him, but he wasn't sure what it was. He wondered nervously if it were a trap. Although they had sheathed their impressive weapons, their true intentions were still in question.

When the woman was less than fifteen feet from him, he raised his right hand and ordered her to stop. Gelid, standing only a foot behind and to the side of Braun, slowly edged forward. Unlike Braun, he was aware of recycling. Moreover, he was Lurde's senior by a good many years, and he easily recognized her from a long time ago. She had always been a remarkably beautiful woman, and he easily remembered her arresting features and desirable body.

It was instantly apparent to him that he had to kill her before Braun could learn her identity, or Braun would surely kill him. In Gelid's mind, he was quick to assume that Lurde would have learned of his involvement with the rogues, and how he had ultimately betrayed his fellow tribe members. What's more, the man standing farther up the trail with the long-knife could only be Hig. Although he wasn't present when they set out on their mission, he had befriended the man's mate upon the behemoth, who confidingly told him of the couple's desire for each other. It seemed logical that the man was a younger version of Hig. He would have to find a way to deal with him, too, and quick!

"Don't let her any closer!" Gelid suddenly cried out.

Several armed braves stepped up beside Gelid. Glancing to either side, he was relieved to note that they were both loyal to him. All he had to do was precipitate an incident, and let them do his dirty work. If he was lucky, they might even take out Braun. His most trusted followers were well aware of his intentions to eventually supplant Braun with himself.

"She's an assassin! Kill her!" Gelid cried out.

But before either could move, Braun countered Gelid's orders, "Wait! We will hear her out!"

Gelid's men glanced nervously at Braun and then back at Gelid. They clearly couldn't comprehend why he wanted the young woman killed. Torn between obeying Gelid and openly defying Braun, the tribe's undisputed leader, they nervously shifted from one foot to the other while looking to each other for help.

Meanwhile, Gelid grew hysterical, certain that the woman was about to expose him for what he was. Unable to control his mounting anxiety, he reached about wildly for a weapon. Unable to find one on himself, he turned to the nearest brave and grabbed the skinning knife from his grasp. Too dazed by Gelid's sudden breakdown to resist, the brave relinquished it without a struggle.

Then, while Gelid turned to attack Lurde, both braves silently slinked back, retreating toward the growing crowd of their fellow tribe's men, and leaving Braun standing alone.

Although Lurde was shocked by his coming apart at the seams, she wasn't surprised. Neither was Hig, who remained a short distance away, watching calmly with a bemused expression on his face. Even as Gelid charged toward the beautiful woman that he had come to love, he wasn't concerned for her safety; from having watched her with the long-knife, Hig knew Gelid didn't stand a chance.

What Hig hadn't counted on, nor Lurde either, judging by her reaction, was that Braun would assist Gelid against the unknown assailants, despite one of them being a woman.

Before Hig could close the gap and cut Braun off, he had drawn his weapon and closed in on Lurde.

Lurde, watching Gelid and Braun coming together, threw her for a loop. Gelid, however, was quick to see the irony in it, and a glimmer of satisfaction stole just a corner from the mask of lunacy he wore. It was almost more than he could imagine; the possibility that Braun would kill his own mother!

Lurde, unable to lay a blade on her own son, even in self-defense, was suddenly at her wits end.

"Braun!"

Lurde recognized the voice; Hig was calling out to her son, his voice pleading with him.

Though Braun couldn't possibly have recognized the voice, since even Lurde hadn't recognized the young tenor's voice from the raspy old man's, he froze in his tracks.

Lurde had just a fraction of a moment to see the perplexed expression come over her son's face at the sound of his name being called, before Gelid's blade shot from his grip, sailing unimpeded toward her bare and vulnerable breast.

Realizing that Braun had immediately taken himself out of the fight upon hearing the stranger call him by name, Gelid determined that the woman of his undoing would die with him, maybe even sooner. He only regretted that he didn't have another weapon to use against Hig.

The blade sliced toward Lurde, moving as if in slow motion. Yet, there was nothing Hig could do; his own body felt even more sluggish than the air surrounding him. His world was about to implode, and he was helpless to stop it.

He heard the thud, and someone near him screamed. Her body flinched from the impact, then froze in time. The long-knife fell to the ground at her feet as her hands reached upward, her fingers closing on the hilt of the short-bladed weapon. But it was too late; her strength was flowing swiftly from her body.

"Braun," she gurgled, the blade having punctured a lung, allowing blood into her airway. Before Hig could hurry to her side, a steady flow of crimson was already oozing from the corner of her mouth. "My son."

Braun, though not understanding, suddenly felt a deep and inexplicable loss. Moving swiftly, he caught the dying woman in his arms, and slowly eased her to the ground. Gelid, seeing his opportunity, grasped Braun's weapon from his outstretched hand, and turned toward the advancing Hig.

Too late, Gelid realized they were too close for him to throw the knife, killing him the same way he had Lurde; he would have to kill him in a hand-to-hand fight. Although he was much older than the youthful man before him, it was a fight to the death, and he had everything to lose.

But Hig had lost all interest in fighting. Gelid was nothing more than another obstacle in his path. Without so much as a sideways glance, he slashed out at the obstacle before him, reducing it to a lifeless hunk of dead flesh.

As he reached Lurde's slumped form, Braun looked beseechingly up at him, the question mouthed even before Hig could push him aside, "Who is she? And why did she call me her son?"

Holding her in his arms, Hig pulled her close. Though he tried to be strong for her, tears were flooding his eyes, blurring his vision.

"Don't leave me!" he begged of her, his voice on the verge of cracking.

Her eyelids fluttered for a moment before a weak voice said, "I love you, Hig."

"Please, Lurde, don't leave me."

"You just called her Lurde!" Braun exclaimed disbelievingly, taking a subconscious step back.

"Yes," Hig spat, suddenly filled with anger over his loss. "I am Hig, and this is your mother."

"But that's impossible!" he argued emphatically.

"There isn't time to argue with you!" Hig screamed at him. "You must set up camp here. Bring a cot for her, and hurry!"

After Braun left, Hig begged Lurde to stay with him. Her eyelids remained shut and unmoving. Although he didn't believe she could hear him any longer, he continued pleading with her. As long as her heart continued to beat, he was determined not to give up, and he expected the same from her.

Two men followed by several old women brought a cot for Lurde to lie on. The women brought bandages and medicinal trappings. After laying Lurde on the cot, Hig checked the assortment of items, and then proceeded to straddle her.

With a foot planted firmly on the ground on either side of her prone form, he grasped the short-bladed knife in both hands and slowly eased it from the wound, being careful not to open the wound anymore than absolutely necessary. When the blade was almost clear of her flesh, she suddenly convulsed, and Hig's own heart stopped beating.

Then, almost as if gas were escaping from a balloon, her body went limp, and the knife was free. Hig's heart started beating again, and he breathed a sigh of relief when the blood oozing out of the wound didn't gurgle with air; her lungs were intact, after all. But even more importantly, her heart was still beating! The wound had nicked her esophagus, allowing a small seepage of blood into her throat. It wasn't a serious wound if tended to quickly.

Sensing that the worst was over, Hig grudgingly stepped aside and allowed the two women room to apply a poultice and bandages. When Lurde regains consciousness, they will force her to drink distilled liquids, further reducing the chance of internal infection.

Braun had returned, and was standing next to Hig, studiously studying the face of the woman on the cot. Hig, still numb from what had just happened, simply said, "Bring food and water. We will stay here until she is strong enough to travel."

Braun started to ask something, but quickly sensed that this wasn't the right time. Hig, meanwhile, took up a position on the ground next to Lurde's cot and sat cross-legged, the long-knife resting across his knees. He was determined to keep vigil over her until she was better; it was the least he could do, since he blamed himself for what had happened to her.

Out of the corner of his eye, Hig noticed that a crude camp was being constructed. They were in an area of abundant ponds, and thus had sufficient water. There was also plenty of game. Yet, most importantly, they were well away from the eastern horizon; it wouldn't be necessary to travel westward for at least several months in earth-time.

Occasionally, curious children would sneak up on him, anxious to see the wounded woman. They would quickly be scolded and chased away by their elders, whom would then linger a moment longer, indecisive about breaking into Hig's silence, or leaving him in peace. It was a tactic that quickly grew wearisome to Hig.

After several days, in which Lurde remained motionless upon the cot, and Hig only left his place beside it for brief moments to relieve himself in the jungle, she finally stirred.

Hig jumped to his feet, crying out to her with joy. The women that had been assigned to look after her and Hig's needs, and who were also camped the nearest, dropped what they were doing and ran to her side.

Lurde's lips were dry and cracked from a fever that ran for the first two days, and the women were quick to insist upon her drinking fluids, namely, distilled spirits. Hig, holding her hand and comforting her, was finally pushed aside by the other woman so that Lurde's bandages could be changed. Yet, he refused to move any farther than was absolutely necessary, and he was even more careful to stand so that Lurde could see he was close by.

After sipping at the water offered her, she managed a smile for Hig, an unspoken sign that she had suffered through the worst and would be all right. At the sight of her brave, beautiful expression, his heart leapt into his throat; he was suddenly overcome with relief.

Braun, having been swiftly alerted to Lurde's changing condition, came running with most of the tribe following close behind. Despite the multitude of questions that had been haunting him, he steeled himself to respect the stranger's space. Aside from seeing to their guests' immediate needs, he waited patiently for a more appropriate time to ask his questions. In truth, he expected the woman to die at any time, and this was his way of showing respect for the man's loss. Excluding Hig, no one expected the mysterious young woman to live. And though the man was clearly devoted to the beautiful woman and loved her deeply, Braun couldn't shake the feeling that the loss would be shared by the entire tribe, especially him.

After three earth-days of wracking his brain, he still couldn't come up with the connection between her familiar looking features, her all too familiar name, and her apparent familiarity of him. It had unnerved him when the man that called himself Hig referred to the young woman as his mother, Lurde. But she had acted as if she knew him! And yet, he was sure he had never laid eyes on her before in his life. Such a beautiful face would not easily be forgotten, if ever.

Nevertheless, soon he would have his answers. The woman had miraculously come through the worse and regained consciousness. Soon, she would be well again. But even before then, he would have an opportunity to speak to the young man that called himself Hig, and he would get his chance to ask his questions. Then, he would learn the truth. And then, if the young man lied, he would be punished for his blasphemy.

Yet, even as he looked on while the healers worked on the woman, he found himself believing the man, despite the logic that told him it couldn't be.

After a while, the young woman fell into a deep, restful sleep, and Braun knew it was time to get the man alone. There was nothing more to be done for the woman but to let her rest.

Putting his hand on the man's shoulder, he gently urged him toward the main cook fire.

"No," Hig resisted. "I must be here when she awakens."

"We won't be far. I'll have someone watch over her; they'll come and get us the minute she stirs."

Still reluctant to leave her side, Hig was suddenly aware of the fragrance of roasting meat. For the first time since camp had been made, he felt hungry. Almost hesitantly, he allowed Braun to lead him to the food.

The cook-woman, seeing them approach, hurriedly set up two heaping plates of food on the flattened log that was serving as the camp's main table. Between the two plates, she placed a flagon of water and a flagon of spirits.

The closer they got, the better the food smelled. With his mouth watering, Hig took the seat indicated by Braun, while Braun took the traditional seat of authority. Although Hig wasn't aware of everything that was going on around him, he did notice that Braun had given him the seat of respect for an honored guest. In the back of his mind, he was relieved that they weren't being blamed for the death of one of their tribe's elders. He was also relieved that, despite the multitude of questions that Braun must be harboring, he had given him his space at Lurde's side until now.

While Braun picked at his food, Hig wolfed down everything placed before him, washing it all down with copious mouthfuls of water. He couldn't remember the last time food had tasted so good. And he strictly avoided the flagon of distilled spirits.

When he finished all the food on his plate, Braun pushed his almost un-touched plate toward him. With little more than a nod of thanks, Hig hurriedly finished it off, also. Then, after taking a long drink of water, he turned back toward the cot and Lurde, afraid that he had left her alone too long already.

"Wait," Braun, plead with him.

Turning back to face him, Hig surprised him when he answered, "You can ask your questions over there. I'm sure you have plenty."

As if on second thought, Hig grabbed the almost empty flagon from the table and took it with him. Braun, feeling as though Hig had read his mind, obediently fell in behind him. Both left the flagon of distilled liquid untouched.

When they reached the cot, Braun signaled for the woman watching over Lurde to leave, but Hig quickly cut him off. "If it's all the same to you, I would rather only have to tell this tale once. The more ears that hear it, the quicker everyone will know of it."

Surprised again, Braun nodded for the woman to reseat herself at the foot of the cot while he and Hig sat on the ground on either side of Lurde's head. The woman understood immediately that a mighty responsibility had been placed upon her, and beamed with pride.

Although Lurde remained asleep, Hig felt that she could hear his voice, and would be comforted by the sound of it.

"I told you earlier that this is your mother, and that I am Hig, but I don't think you believed me."

Braun started to protest, but then realized Hig was telling the truth; he hadn't believed him. Instead, he merely nodded his head in agreement and continued listening.

Hig started his tale with the attack on the camp, and how he had run into Mang in the jungle. He emphasized Mang's unwitting manipulation by Gelid, and the traitorous acts that the elder had committed against his tribe. While he told this part, he doubted that Braun believed him, and was scrutinizing each word. Yet, he was certain that by the time he finished, Braun would have no doubts concerning their authenticity.

While he told them of stumbling on the long-knife and killing the savage beast single-handedly, he neglected telling him about the way he and Lurde had made love atop the furry carcass. In fact, he made a point of glossing over all the times Braun's mother and he had given into their primal cravings for each other.

He told them of meeting Khan, and overtaking the captive tribe members. He told them about entering the cavern, and discovering the tunnels. And after he told them about the soldiers, and their original deaths at the hands of the soldiers, he told them about the recycling machines, and waking up renewed.

When his throat got dry, he drank more water, only to discover that someone had brought a fresh flagon, and several more ears had joined them. By the time he told them about Khan's death, more than twenty tribe members were sitting within hearing, raptly attuned to his tale.

It took him several hours to complete the entire story. And when he finished with them finally finding Lurde's tribe, more than one hundred people were crowded around the cot, eagerly trying to listen in. Those near the outer fringe that occasionally missed a word or two, were quickly filled in by those that could hear better. By the time Hig finished, a low murmur was running through the crowd. Parts of the tale that had been told before everyone had arrived were being retold by those that had shown up earlier.

Braun, in a state of shock, was staring at the woman on the cot that was purported to be his mother; it would explain the resemblance to his own features. And he was not the only one. Several times during the telling of their tale, Hig was interrupted when several members of the crowd tried getting close enough to see him and Lurde, and Braun had to order them back.

After a moment of silence, he realized that Hig had finished. He also realized that although he was bewildered beyond belief, he didn't have any more questions. Everything that had been troubling him had been addressed, whether he liked what he heard or not.

But even if his questions had been addressed, in the multitude of people now surrounding him, there were those that couldn't be so easily dismissed. Two factions had formed, those that refused to believe anyone could live beneath the surface and recycle the dead back to life, and those who believed they had family and friends waiting for them to the west.

Glancing around, Hig was quick to note that the two men standing beside Gelid in their initial confrontation were also among the group of disbelievers. Braun, following his gaze, didn't miss the relevance of their vocal position, either. Though their leader was dead, they still had a lot to lose if Hig's story was to be believed. Everyone in the camp was acutely aware of who had been aligned with Gelid, and now, more than ever, they were not apt to forget.

Lurde's eyes suddenly fluttered and opened. Seeing her son and the man she loved looking down at her, a smile graced her lips. Hig quickly grabbed the flagon and helped her with a few swallows of water. She was weak, and she was pale, but she was the most beautiful woman Hig had ever seen.

When she finished swallowing, in a barely discernable voice, she asked one word of Braun, "Mang?"

Lowering his head as though he was suddenly afraid to meet her gaze, he hesitantly stammered, "We found his body several months after the battle with the pale-warriors." He paused, not wanting to hurt the woman on the cot anymore than she'd already been hurt, but knowing she was owed the entire truth. "We assumed at the time that he was behind the attack. Of course, Gelid was quick to plant that seed of thought." He paused, fighting the internal turmoil of knowing that he'd betrayed his brother's memory. Finally, he blurted, "I ordered his body be left for the rising sun without benefit of ceremony." Turning toward the woman on the cot, he broke into tears, crying for her to forgive him. "I'm so sorry, Mother! Please forgive me."

With a will of strength that had to hurt, she reached up and put her arms around her son's neck, pulling him close to her. All doubt regarding her authenticity was swept away by her consoling gesture, and Braun openly wept before the crowd of onlookers. The murmuring of the crowd ceased, and they were surrounded by silence. Even the disbelievers were becoming believers.

After several long moments of silence, Braun took his mother's hands in his own, and lowered them back to her side. The effort had sapped the last of her strength, a fine bead of sweat forming along her brow. Before Hig could take his hand and wipe away the moisture, she slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

Braun humbly turned toward Hig and said, "I'm sorry that I doubted you."

Hig simply nodded, then rose to his feet. Speaking softly, so as not to disturb Lurde's rest, he asked the crowd to go on about their business. Braun, rising beside him, added that there would be a tribal meeting of the elders the following day. He further added that they would remain at this site until his mother was able to travel. At this, a small murmur of disapproval rose from the crowd. Yet, when Braun looked for the sources, they quickly grew silent.

When he finished speaking, the crowd disbursed, most moving off in small groups, still discussing everything that had been said.

Hig, not wanting to create the wrong illusion of himself and Lurde, had withheld many details of their journey together. Yet, he suspected Braun knew they'd been intimate. And so, when he asked Braun if he had any knowledge of Leeta, it was with a difficult awkwardness, and not a small degree of discomfort.

Shocking Hig, Braun answered his question with one of his own. "Are you wondering if we came across her body, like that of my brother? Or are you hoping that I can tell you she is alive, and in what tribe she is living?"

Hig didn't miss the hint of sarcasm in Braun's voice. Yet, he was relieved by the man's bluntness; it made it that much easier for him to be equally open and blunt with him.

"I love your mother, and I intend on living the rest of my life with her."

"Why, because you're a young man now, you can't bear the thought of being straddled with an old, decrepit woman?"

Hig swung his fist without warning, even before he knew he was going to do it himself. The blow caught Braun in the side of the head, sending him sprawling to the rocky surface.

Half on his knees, a trickle of blood running from a tear in his left ear, he looked up at Hig. There was no fear or anger in his eyes, when he said, "I'm sorry, but I had to know if your intentions toward my mother are sincere. And judging by the strength of your ire, I'd say they are."

Hig, his breath coming in gulps, was fighting to control his anger. Upon hearing Braun's apology, a small fissure opened, allowing his pent up anger a small avenue out which to seep. Slowly, and with determination, Hig regained his composure.

"What your mother and I decide is between your mother and me," he stated emphatically, for Braun's, as well as the gathering crowd's benefit.

A young man separated himself from the crowd and went to Braun's side to help him to his feet. Pushing the young man aside, he said, "It's all right, I had it coming. Go back to what you were doing." And then, while throwing his gaze over the growing crowd, added, "All of you!"

When the crowd didn't immediately disburse, Braun raised his hands in frustration and reiterated, "It's all right! No go about your business."

Hesitantly, the crowd returned to their individual chores, leaving Braun and Hig to themselves. Looking humbly toward Hig, Braun was the first to speak. "I really did deserve that, didn't I?" he sheepishly asked.

Hig, once again in full control of his emotions, smiled at him and said, "Yes, you did. And if you weren't Lurde's sole surviving son, I probably would have killed you."

The mention of Braun being her only remaining child quickly dampened the rising spirits between them. Silently, Hig scolded himself for speaking so callously of Braun's dead brother. Though he didn't really care what Braun thought of him, he did care what Lurde thought of him, and he didn't intend to appear callous and uncaring when he really was.

After a moment of tense silence, Braun shook his shoulders and said, "It's all right." He paused before adding, "There was a time, not that long ago, when I thought the worst of my brother. I guess, now that I know differently about him, I'm overly protective of the image that he left behind. Come; walk with me while I check on the progress of our camp."

"Thanks, but if it's all the same to you, I would rather stay here with your mother. If she wakes, she might need something, and I wouldn't want to be gone."

"I understand. I'll be back later and check in with you. If you need anything in the meantime, don't hesitate to ask." He turned to go, and then stopped and turned back. "If her condition changes, send someone to fetch me."

"I'll do that," Hig solemnly replied.

Hesitant to go, Braun soddenly turned and slowly walked toward the center of camp. Several young men separated themselves from their chores and advised him of the camp's progress. He made a few comments that Hig couldn't hear, and then continued on his way while the men returned to their duties. Settling himself to the ground next to her head, Hig let himself relax, taking in the comforting sounds that are generated by a camped tribe. Today, its occupants were busy. But tomorrow, with the shelters and fire pits built, along with the supplies of water and food set aside, equally necessary, but less demanding chores would be tended to. Knives would be sharpened, hunting parties would be formed, and the women and children would scavenge the area for fruit and berries.

"Hig," came a soft, frail voice, penetrating through his fog of sleep. "Hig."

Startled, Hig jumped awake, not aware that he had even fallen asleep. To his surprise and delight, he was greeted by Lurde's smiling face.

"Lurde!" he stammered, cursing himself for not being awake for her.

"Hig," she softly repeated.

"Here," he said, holding the flagon next to her lips and pouring a gentle stream for her. "Drink, it's good for you."

When she finished, Hig set the flagon down and worried over her.

"I'm feeling much better," she whispered weakly.

"You look much better," he said with conviction.

And indeed, she did. The color was returning to her cheeks, and her eyes were clear and focused. In addition, the area surrounding her wound had turned from a pasty white, to a rosy shade of pink. Hig didn't feel comfortable looking at her wound. He had seen worse, much worse. But never on a body that was still alive. It was a miracle that the blade hadn't punctured a lung, or pierced her heart.

Abruptly, she said to him, "I'm very tired, Hig, but I need to know what's going on." When he didn't immediately respond, she took a deep breath that caused her chest to rise and fall painfully before clarifying herself, "Between you and Braun."

Hig sensed the determination in her voice, and knew that it would only cause her more stress if he flirted around the truth. So after taking a deep breath himself, he said, "We were discussing our relationship, yours and mine."

When he hesitated for a moment, she pressed him to continued with a drawn out, "And."

"And I explained to him that my intentions toward you were honorable, despite the final outcome of my search for Leeta."

He was prepared for her to ask him about Braun's reaction, and not what she did ask of him. "Are they?"

Flustered by her directness, he could only answer with the truth. "Yes."

"Good," she abruptly replied, almost sounding casual. Then, before he could react, she said, "I'm feeling tired again. Do you mind if I sleep?"

"Of course not," he answered, perplexed by the question.

"Good. Now instead of sitting there being useless, go see what you can do to earn our keep."

Before he could protest, she closed her eyes and drifted into sleep, or at least a close proximity of such. Realizing that she would be upset with him if she found him sitting there the next time he woke, he decided to take her advice, and make himself useful. But first, he would find someone to sit watch over her. Despite being near the cook fires, and thus, the center of the camp, Hig couldn't bear the thought of something tragic happening to her; even after all the years since Leeta had been injured, he still felt responsible for not being there in her time of need. If something similar happened to Lurde, he would never be able to forgive himself.

After stressing his concern to the woman that had originally bandaged her wound, Hig went in search of familiar faces. He didn't feel any inner need for companionship or comradery. In fact, he was more than content in the solitary company of Lurde. But with her temporarily laid-up, and he firmly believed that her condition was only temporary, he found it necessary to busy himself in order to make the time without her more bearable.

Seeing an old man working intently on a knife blade, he approached and inquired if there was a second stone available. The old man looked longingly at the blade Hig held before him.

Smiling, the old man handed him a coarse stone while indicating for him to sit by him. Since he didn't have anywhere better to go, and he would need a finer textured stone before he was finished with the long-knife, he took the proffered seat.

With long, careful strokes of the stone, Hig reshaped the edge of the blade. Each stroke was slow and steady of hand, traveling from the hilt to the tip and back. He remembered every nick, and every scratch. But like time, he would wear them down, making them little more than forgotten memories. Soon, his hand, eye, and mind were one with the blade, caressing it into compliancy without force. And though he could have graduated to the finer whetstone sooner, the actions gave him great pleasure, drawing the stress from his mind as easily as the stone drew the nicks from the blade.

When he could no longer afford to remove anymore of the precious metal, he set the coarse stone down and looked about for a finer one. The old man, feigning disinterest in him, continued slowly working the knife between his knees.

Hig was about to interrupt him in his search for a finer stone, when the old man suddenly presented him with the one he was using. Without a word, just a simple nod of the head to indicate his appreciation, Hig took the proffered stone and turned his mind inward, back to the blade. He quickly lost himself in the task at hand as he became one with the steel.

When he finished with his blade, he went in search of Lurde's long-knife. Just as he suspected, it had been placed beneath the cot for safekeeping.

Being careful not to disturb Lurde's restful sleep, Hig cautiously slid the long-knife from the sheath and replaced it with the one he just honed. Then, using even more caution so as not to bump the bottom of the cot, he replaced the sheath with his weapon inside and retreated to the seat beside the old man.

Though the old man eyed him critically, he didn't utter a single word, but instead, handed Hig the coarse stone back. Hig simply nodded his approval once again, and set to work shaping the edge. Both of their weapons had seen much abuse and neglect, and he had to remove much more metal to reach the desired smoothness than he cared to. Yet, it had to be done. A poorly shaped blade was worse than a neglected one. At least a neglected blade could be brought around; a poorly shaped one was nothing more than a waste of time and metal.

Hig had lost all track of time, when the old man abruptly rose and walked away. Checking the blade, he was surprised at the fineness of the edge that he'd incorporated on it. Setting the finishing stone next to the others of the old man's, he slid the blade into his sheath, carefully checking the freedom of movement. Satisfied, he started to rise just when the old man returned with a flagon of water and several chunks of cooked meat.

Handing the flagon to Hig, he asked, "Did you find the answers that you sought within the steel?"

Though Hig wasn't even aware of the fact that he'd been doing little more than overdue maintenance, it suddenly dawned on him that the old man was correct; he had been looking for answers to several questions that were disturbing him. His last conversation with Braun had unearthed some feelings buried deep within him. Yet, he remembered burying those feelings. And he hadn't forgotten that some day he would have to face them; the day he found the information that he searched for so desperately.

Hig took the flagon from the old man and drank slowly and deeply of the tepid liquid before answering. It wasn't that he was trying to postpone answering the old man; he already knew what he was going to say. He drank slowly, savoring each swallow, because he was thirsty. He'd been so involved with the metal blades that he had lost all track of time, and many hours had passed.

Reluctantly, he finished drinking and traded the half-empty flagon for a piece of cooked meat. "Thanks," he uttered, before taking a bite and savoring the flavor while he slowly chewed on it.

The old man set the flagon between them and took up his seat beside him. He was a man of infinite patience, and knew that Hig would answer his question when he was ready, if ever. In silence, they chewed on the tough but flavorful pieces of meat while watching the goings on within the camp.

When Hig finished his piece, he slowly got to his feet, his gaze on Lurde less than fifty feet distant. She hadn't moved for several hours, and Hig was growing concerned. He decided he would take the flagon with him in case she woke; she would be thirsty after so many days without. If she was feeling better, she might even be hungry, he hoped.

"Yes, the metal gave me the answers that I was searching for," he suddenly said, reaching for the flagon.

Looking at the shiny covering on the ground where Hig had worked, the old man smiled and replied, "Would you mind if I kept that?"

Following his gaze and seeing the sprinkling of shiny flakes and dust, Hig suddenly remembered the value of metal on the surface, and nodded his approval; it was the least he could do for the old man's generosity toward him. He was suddenly sorry that he didn't have any of his broken long-knife left, for he would gladly have surrendered a piece to the old man as a gesture of thanks. But the precious metal was long gone, having been traded here and there for things they required along the way.

On the way to Lurde's cot, Braun intercepted him. Like Hig, he too was coming to check on her. After exchanging little more than an acknowledging nod of each other's presence, they continued in silence until they reached her cot. To both of their amazements, she was wide-awake and watching the birds and other small creatures that scurried and scampered in the jungle canopy almost two hundred feet above them.

Before either of them could speak, she rasped through a parched throat, "I thought I'd been forgotten."

Ashamed for not checking on her sooner, Hig hurriedly unstopped the flagon and held it to her mouth. "I'm sorry," he mumbled embarrassedly.

Pushing the flagon away, she said with a much clearer tone of voice, "Thank you."

Braun stood silently off to one side, just within Lurde's view so that she knew he was there.

"How are you feeling," Hig tenuously asked of her.

"Much better."

Braun moved closer to Hig, assuring that Lurde would hear what he had to say also. "We wouldn't blame you, if you decided to resume your journey, now that mother is out of danger."

Hig half expected the words, but Lurde was visibly stunned by them. Riddled with anxiety, she reached up and grabbed Hig's hand. "You're not leaving without me! We already had this discussion. I'm going with you! It's been settled."

Gently holding her hand, his gaze on Braun, he softly declared, "Yes, we already had this conversation, and yes, you're coming with me."

Relaxing, she settled back onto the cot. The brief outburst had zapped her feeble resources, leaving her weak and pale. But Hig didn't see her; he was staring too intently at Braun, aghast that the man would purposely upset his mother when she was so frail and vulnerable. He wanted desperately to reach across the distance between them and strike him down, but for Lurde's sake, he resisted.

Speaking calmly, and with much reserve, Hig said to him, "This conversation is over. When your mother is well enough to travel, we will be gone."

Resignedly, Braun said, "Stay as long as you need. We are plenty far from the eastern horizon. If necessary, we can stay encamped here for another sixty days."

"We'll be on our way in thirty."

### **15**

The next three weeks seemed to drag. While Lurde continued getting better, Hig made himself useful around the camp. In addition to joining the hunting parties, he also tagged along with the women on their fruit and berry scavenging. While the women appreciated his company, in addition to the added security and protection that he brought along in the form of his long-knife, Hig did it solely for the fresh fruit that he gathered.

Each time that he returned to camp, he would head directly to the small area sectioned off specifically for Lurde. She would always get the first pick of sweet fruits and berries, in addition to the finest cuts of meat. As her strength permitted, she started preserving the fruits and curing the meat in preparation for their upcoming journey.

At the end of their third week, she was able to join Hig and the women on their scavenging. She both needed and appreciated the exercise. By the end of the fourth week, she was ready to travel.

Hesitantly, Hig studied Lurde's features, searching her face for signs of inner turmoil. He had no illusions that she was anxious to be started, but also troubled about leaving her tribe behind. Although he and Braun had formed a tentative truce for Lurde's benefit, Braun continued to abrade and openly admit that he didn't approve of their actions.

For Lurde's sake, Hig tried explaining to Braun that he and his mother were not the same people that had set out on their mission such a long time ago. They weren't only physically younger and healthier in appearance, but conversely, they were eons older and wiser. It had become impossible for them to close their eyes to the past and all they'd learned. Yet, their only foreseeable future was an intertwined path that they had to follow as one.

Braun, though open-minded regarding all the knowledge they'd imparted, refused to leave the past behind. Hig felt that he would cling to the past, and the security that it offered, despite his best efforts to persuade him otherwise.

During the second week of Lurde's recuperating, a large group broke off from the main tribe and headed west. Hig had warned them of the turmoil between Khan's followers and the pale-skinned refugees, but none showed any concern or outright prejudice; because of the violent and abrupt method by which they'd been separated, they were only anxious to be reunited with friends and family that they hadn't seen for more than a year.

Although everyone had come to accept that Hig and Lurde were who they claimed to be, Hig still worried that they would be disappointed when they came face to face with old friends and family members that were younger than they should be. Despite a shared past with the recycled members, it would be like meeting strangers, or friends of the people that you once knew. Beyond having a history in common, they had little else left.

But that was their trail and their adventure; Hig and Lurde had their own future to pursue.

With little fanfare, they gathered their supplies and few personal possessions, and headed out of camp, toward the east. They hadn't gone far, when Braun suddenly appeared on the trail before them.

"I couldn't let you go without speaking to you first," he said solemnly, his gaze and voice clearly directed toward his mother.

Lurde halted only a minute before approaching her son. Upon reaching him, she wrapped her arms around him, giving him a warm embrace. After a long moment, she stood back from him, her eyes openly appraising him.

"You are a good son, Braun. The tribe couldn't ask for a fairer, more honest and capable leader. You will do well by them, as your father did by those of us before you."

"I'm sorry for the way I treated you," he said hesitantly, his gaze shifting to Hig. Putting his hand out to Hig, he slowly continued, "But it's you that I should be apologizing to. I never should have let my anger and jealousy get in the way of my mother's best interests."

When Hig only looked back at him, perplexed by Braun's comment of jealousy, he quickly explained. "It wasn't easy for me to see my mother as a young, vigorous woman in her prime. Yet, it was even harder for me to imagine her with someone other than my father. And so, unfortunately, I acted childish and immature. I ostracized you when I should have embraced you, thanking you for making my mother happy. It was selfish and immature for me to behave that way." Hig gingerly accepted the proffered hand, but Braun wasn't finished. "It is clear to me now that she loves you very much. Like many others in our tribe, I too can see it in her eyes when she looks at you. I hope you both can find it in your hearts to forgive me."

Lurde, on the verge of tears, embraced her son, while Hig warmly shook his hand, all the while, gratefully smiling at him.

When Hig released his hand, he gently pushed his mother away, guiding her toward Hig, and their eastern journey, with the words, "Go now, and may you find what you seek. Maybe, when you have reached the end of your journey, we will meet again."

"We will meet again," Hig agreed with finality.

Taking Hig's hand, Lurde said, "I will always love and think of you."

Then, wiping her tears away with the back of her free hand, she turned in unison with Hig and set off toward the east, leaving her sole surviving family behind. She found some solace in the words Hig spoke with such finality, but she didn't share his conviction. Although she didn't doubt that she would travel westward again, she did doubt that she would ever travel as far west as her son's tribe, which seemed determined to explore the western horizon for itself after hearing such fine details of it from them.

Braun stood and watched them for several minutes before they were lost to sight behind the growing vegetation. He, like Hig, felt deep in his bones that they would see each other again.

Hig and Lurde traveled with ease. There didn't seem to be any reason to push themselves. They would travel eastward until the temperature became unbearable, and then they would turn around and work their way west, always approaching any travelers they come upon for information about Leeta.

When the time came for them to turn back toward the western horizon, their journey would be over; if they didn't find any sign of Leeta before they reached the eastern horizon, Hig would accept the fact that she was gone.

Lurde, aware of this knowledge, was more than anxious to reach that point in their travels. When they did, she knew she would have Hig's heart all to herself. Until they turned back to the west, or found Leeta, he couldn't give himself completely to her without strings attached.

They quickly fell into a routine where they stopped and rested at four-hour intervals, sooner if they came across a nice pond. Occasionally, they would veer from the trail to hunt, in order to break up their diet of fruit and cured meats with fresh game. But always, they approached every westward bound caravan they encountered on the equatorial trail so that they could ask about Leeta.

During long stretches, when they didn't meet anyone for several days at a time, they grew closer together, more intimate, and more comfortable with each other. Hig couldn't believe that a woman as beautiful and loving could be interested in him. Yet, on a more profound level, he was learning just how fulfilling his life could be, thanks to Lurde's affections.

They took numerous extended breaks during their journey, in which they explored each other's bodies intimately. Their experiences were ranging from primal lust, to sensual intimacy, each learning the others erogenous zones while discovering their own unexplored territories.

And yet, of more import, while spending time as guests among the tribes they encountered, they discovered each other mentally. They learned to understand each other's thoughts on a deeper level, sometimes working together to elicit information from people that weren't otherwise quick in forthcoming.

But despite their best efforts, and intimate knowledge of each other, they didn't find what Hig so desperately needed, the knowledge of Leeta's whereabouts or demise that would allow him closure to that part of his life.

They had just left an exceptionally large tribe behind and were resuming their eastward trek, when Lurde abruptly pulled up short.

Hig, drawing his long-knife, anxiously whispered, "What is it?"

Softly, she replied, "I'm not sure, listen."

Straining to separate the normal sounds of the jungle from something that didn't belong, Hig quickly grew frustrated by the futility of his efforts. "I don't hear anything," he grumbled softly.

"Shh!" she snapped at him. Then, more gently, added, "Listen."

Suspecting that she was hearing nothing more than the scurrying sounds of rodents scattering at their approach, Hig's impatience boiled to the surface. It was a common occurrence to be overrun with rodents whenever they left a tribe, and this tribe had been particularly large; it was only to be expected that it would have a larger following of rodents and scavengers trailing behind it.

He was about to admonish her for over-reacting, when he heard the sound to which she was referring. It wasn't the sound of a scurrying rodent. In fact, it wasn't the sound of movement, at all; it was coming from a stationary place.

Hig, crouching low, tapped Lurde on the arm, indicating for her to draw her weapon. But instead, to his dismay and alarm, she abruptly stepped forward, moving the low-hanging branches from before her as she went.

Alarmed, Hig hissed at her, "Lurde!"

When she failed to acknowledge him, he quickly followed, trying hard to avoid the snapping action of the limbs as she released them. Her attention was focused on the source of the sound, and she was determined to find it.

As they drew nearer, Hig determined the sound to be human, but not from an adult. It was a mewing, not a crying sound. Unlike Hig, Lurde instinctively sensed the helpless whimpering associated with a baby. If it had been a trap, Lurde would have willingly walked into it, fully expecting to find a baby in need.

But it wasn't a trap; it was exactly what Lurde suspected, a baby!

Someone from the tribe they'd just left behind had abandoned their child, probably assuming that it would be found by scavengers or die in the encroaching heat of the rising sun. It was obvious to Lurde that neither the parents, nor the rest of the tribe, wanted the child. And it was immediately apparent why; the poor child was badly disfigured.

At the sight of it, Hig's heart skipped a beat. Though he didn't openly speak the thought that came to mind, he wondered if Lurde shared it with him: Was his life destined to be that of a caregiver to a less fortunate soul? Because there was never any doubt about leaving the child behind.

Lifting the child to her breast, Lurde cooed and whispered softly in its ear, comforting the poor creature while Hig looked on, both amazed and awestruck by the transformation of the woman he loved. This was the first time they laid eyes on the child, and already it had changed their lives drastically. Hig couldn't even imagine how a child would fit into the life ahead of them, and yet, a small part of him grew excited at the thought.

Turning, her arms wrapped around the fragile body to protect it from the swaying limbs, they retreated to the open trail with Hig in the lead. When they reached the relative openness, Hig turned and watched as Lurde knelt down on the ground before him, gently laying the baby on a soft mound of moss.

"Do you think it was born that way? Or do you think its deformities are from something that happened recently?" he gently asked of her.

"Does it matter?" she asked, almost defensively.

Smiling, Hig defended himself. "Don't bite my head off; I haven't said you couldn't keep it."

After checking the baby over from head to foot, she studied its eyes and gauged its alertness. Satisfied, she said, "He's a bright little boy. I don't think he was born this way, but was injured later, probably within a month of his birth, judging by the healed condition of the scars."

"Why didn't they abandon him sooner?" Hig asked, showing obvious disgust for the people that could be so cruel as to abandon a helpless child. "Why did they wait until his wounds healed?"

"At first, they probably thought he wasn't going to make it. And when he surprised them and survived the initial carnage to his fragile body, they decided to wait and see how much use of his limbs he might maintain." As an afterthought, she added, "He was probably injured soon after they set up camp. Probably by a hungry scavenger when they left him alone to sleep and the parents were busy erecting shelters. When they realized that he would never be capable of fending for himself, they determined to leave him behind when the tribe moved on."

"How old is he now?"

"Five, maybe six months."

The child, showing amazing dexterity considering its mangled arms, grabbed hold of Lurde's fingers and squeezed. "He's a strong little guy," she said proudly, sounding very much to Hig like a proud parent.

The child suddenly let out a wail and broke out crying.

"What's wrong with it?" Hig asked, unable to hide his growing anxiety.

"He's probably hungry," she calmly replied, holding the baby against her shoulder and gently patting its back.

The child immediately grew quiet. Rising, Lurde added, "It probably hasn't been out here long. They wouldn't have abandoned him until the tribe was already moving."

"What do we feed him?" Hig asked, eyeing her ample breasts.

"He's not breastfeeding anymore," she quickly shot back at him. "And besides, I'm afraid I couldn't even if I desired, since I'm dry."

Feigning disappointment, Hig asked, "Seriously, what do we feed him?"

"The same things we eat." She hesitated a moment before asking Hig if he would go back and search the immediate area surrounding where they found the baby. "It's possible that the parents left something behind."

"Why would they leave anything behind?"

"Because it's a baby!" she said exasperatedly. Then, when she saw that he still hadn't grasped her meaning, she added, "Didn't you have a favorite toy when you were a child?"

Finally comprehending why she wanted him to search the area, he turned and headed back the way they'd come, all the while mumbling beneath his breath about not needing a toy when he was a child.

Lurde ignored his protestations and turned her attention to the baby instead, resuming her cooing and coddling. Though her body was physically young, she possessed the maturity and knowledge to understand the child's needs. While Hig tore through the vegetation with a maddening haste and disregard for stealth, Lurde emptied her pack on the trail and swaddled the child in it. She discovered that if she adjusted the straps just the slightest bit, she could wear it around her front, instead of on her back. In this manner, it put the child where she could keep an eye on it at all times, something she found extremely desirable.

Hig came back to find her sitting cross-legged on the trail with the baby secured across her chest in the pack, and all of their supplies spread out on the ground before her. While the child sucked contentedly on a piece of cured meat, Lurde was busy mashing the pulp of a melon onto the flat surface of a thick leaf.

"What are you doing?" he asked, perplexed.

"Any luck?" she nonchalantly replied, ignoring his question.

"No. What are you doing?"

"Don't you like it?" she asked gaily, gently bouncing the pack and baby on her knees.

"Great," he replied, growing irritated by her avoidance of his question. "So what do we do with all of this stuff?" he pressed, indicating their scattered supplies.

"I thought we could put the necessities in your pack, and leave the rest behind."

"In case you've forgotten, we don't have any un-necessities. Everything we have, we need."

Her face turning serious, she finally met his gaze. "This child is more necessary than that long-knife you're so proud of. If we can't make whatever sacrifices are necessary to keep him, than you had better go on without me, because he is necessary to me!"

Her demeanor didn't leave any room for debate. The child was staying with her; he got the both of them, or neither of them.

Leaning down to his haunches, he looked over the scattered supplies. After a long moment, he said, "There isn't anything here that I need. We have plenty of meat and essentials in my pack."

Her gaze softened and a smile reshaped her mouth. To Hig, she had never looked more beautiful; he only wished the child in her arms was his, deformities or not.

Since leaving the sub-surface, they had been trying to have a baby. Although it wasn't the most important thing on their minds, they both secretly wished for Lurde's pregnancy. Yet, despite their numerous liaisons, Lurde showed no sign of conceiving. But even more troubling, since being recycled, she hadn't ovulated.

But now, with the child resting comfortably in the pack secured over her shoulders, she looked radiant. She looked capable of holding the future in her capable arms.

"How is he?"

"He is healthy now, but he's suffered a lot in his short life. Both of his arms are disfigured and heavily scarred. Fortunately, both hands are intact, along with his head and neck."

"Someday I will be able to teach him to fight, and use the long-knife," Hig piped up with enthusiasm.

Her face growing sad, Hig quickly grew silent. "What is it?" he asked with mounting concern.

"Your task might prove to be a difficult one, I'm afraid," she said timidly. "His legs will never support him. They have been mangled beyond hope."

Hig's face didn't sink with despair, but instead, blossomed with determination. "Then I will teach him to compensate for his disabilities."

"I love you, Hig," she said softly in reply.

It was the first time that she ever spoke the words with such meaning and conviction when they weren't entangled in the throes of passion. Hig's heart immediately swelled with warmth and pride toward her and the child.

Pulling his pack over until it sat next to the array of supplies already on the ground, he turned it over, dumping the contents. "Let's start with the stuff we know we need, and fill the pack until there isn't anymore room in it. We'll eat and use what's left on the ground during our stay here, and then leave the rest behind," he stated matter-of-factly.

Wordlessly, Lurde selected her spare short-bladed knife from the pile and slid it into her pack with the child. Securely tied in a heavy sheath, there wasn't any chance of accidentally injuring the youngster. They continued picking over the remaining supplies and items until Hig's pack was overflowing. To their surprise and astonishment all that remained on the ground were a block of green cheese and several small chunks of cured meat.

Looking at the bulging pack that Hig would have to carry, Lurde started to protest. He quickly cut her protestations off, stating, "We'll just have to eat more."

Lurde, sensing that Hig wasn't going to relent, decided instead to change the subject. "How long can we stay here?"

"Will a week give you enough time?"

"More than enough," she quickly replied, pleasantly surprised that he was willing to take so much time out from his mission.

Yet, she didn't want to hold him back. They both knew they were nearing the end of their journey. Already, they were closing in on the eastern horizon. They could feel the change in temperature as it steadily rose. In addition, the chance of meeting westward-bound tribes was growing steadily less. So much so, in fact, that Hig would have been surprised to see anything more than a straggler or two from here to the eastern fringe. But until they reached the extreme eastern boundary, he felt strongly that he had to continue.

"Then, it's settled, we will stay here a week before we move on."

"Thank you," she said softly, gazing into his eyes.

They hiked off the trail a ways until they came to a small pond of water. Although Hig didn't expect anyone to happen along the trail, habit dictated moving a safe distance from it. When Lurde was busy with the child, Hig made a point of lying under cover in a place of heavy growth that afforded him an unobstructed view of the trail so that he could keep watch. This was both for their safety, and for the opportunity to question anyone that might come along.

The time seemed to fly by. During the week, Lurde came up with the name Gamy, in tribute to her lost son, Mang. Since Hig didn't have any preference, he easily agreed. After washing and cleaning the child from head to mangled foot, Lurde insistently fed it. In addition to learning to accept Hig and Lurde as its parents, the child put on weight; several pounds during its first week in their care, to be exact.

Out of concern that the straps securing the pack to Lurde would be overstressed by the additional weight, as well as all future weight the child put on, Hig fashioned an extra set of cords from the surplus supplies. He also took the time to weave a back support for Lurde, to lessen the strain on her shoulders.

Gamy was a quick-witted child. He took no time at all to learn their names. But much to Hig's surprise and delight, gamy had a sense of humor. The two of them were constantly playing tricks on Lurde, and then laughing heartily at her when she fell for them.

And to both Hig's and Lurde's delight, they quickly learned just how agile Gamy could be when he set his mind to it. When left unattended, he would use his strong hands to literally drag himself along the ground. By pulling himself from vine to shrub to root, he could move along the ground almost as quickly as Hig could walk. And he did it with extreme ease, covering long distances before growing tired and sore from the sharp surfaces that grated against his tender flesh.

Although his legs were useless, they were too small to be a hindrance. Only once did his misshapen foot get so tangled in vines that he screamed with frustration. And even then, he surprised them by how quickly he calmed down just by their presence.

Hig and Lurde grew to feel more like a family with each passing day. By the end of the week, Hig was questioning the logic behind his quest. He was tempted to abandon his mission and turn toward the relative safety of the west. At one point, Lurde came across him while he was struggling with his inner turmoil, berating himself for allowing Lurde and Gamy to get this far to the east. He had a responsibility to them, if not to himself.

When Lurde questioned him, he explained and apologized for their situation, at which point Lurde took him in her arms and cried. "We have to continue," she said weakly. "For Gamy and I, if not for yourself."

He understood her meaning; they couldn't really be a family until he put his mission behind him. He had to discover what became of Leeta, or know that he had tried his best, and had exhausted all avenues of searching. Only then, could he fully accept the family that had been granted him.

He put his melancholy behind him and considered their future with renewed vigor. After studying the sky, and their surroundings with renewed interest, he determined that they could reach the extreme eastern fringe within the month. He also relayed his belief to Lurde that it was unlikely they would meet anymore western-bound tribes. During the last week, not a single straggler had passed by their camp, a fact that both surprised and bewildered them.

On their final day, Hig was looking over the few remaining items that hadn't found their way into either their bellies or their sole remaining pack, when Lurde stepped up behind him. She had already situated Gamy in his harnessed seat and was impatient to get started.

"There isn't much left," she said softly, her hand subconsciously rubbing Gamy's bald pate, a habit she'd developed that Gamy didn't seem to mind.

"We won't miss it," he agreed, rising to his feet. After checking the action of the long-knife in its sheath, he asked with concern, "Are you sure you're up to the burden."

Sarcastically, she nodded toward his pack and asked, "Are you?"

His own pack was almost splitting at the seams, the straps stressed to the breaking point. With the extra mouth to feed, he'd found it hard to leave anything behind. In addition to the bulging pack, he had a full flagon of water slung over each shoulder and draped across the front of his chest to counter-balance the weight on his back. Yet, his concern was for Lurde, and his eyes went to the scar just above and between her breasts, the top of which was visible above the lip of the pack.

Following his eyes with her own, she understood his concern. "I'll be fine. When the supplies dwindle, we'll take turns with the packs."

"Sure," Hig agreed, though he knew by one look at the way she continued rubbing Gamy's head that she wouldn't give up the burden until the child grew up or learned to walk on his own, either of which was a long way's off. "Let's go."

The equatorial trail had been well traveled this far to the east, and it was easy for them to walk abreast. Although vines and limbs grew profusely, some hanging above the trail, while others literally sprawling on it, nothing sprouted from the trail itself except the dense grass-like weeds and moss. Thus, the traveling was easy, and they made good time.

Although Lurde had never been this far to the east, Hig had. He remembered the time him and Leeta had been abandoned by their tribe because they couldn't keep up and had fallen behind. When they didn't think they were going to make it, a rescue craft appeared above them. Unfortunately, the craft crashed, dashing their hopes for easy salvage. Instead of being rescued by the pilot, they rescued him, and Loté, his daughter, fell in love, much to Leeta's delight and his chagrin. When Leeta and he were inadvertently carried off on the back of the behemoth, little did he know that it would be the last time he'd ever see his daughter.

The heat was beginning to take its toll on Lurde, even though she never once complained. Despite having fully recovered from the knife wound, Hig could tell that she wasn't as strong as she once had been. The strength she'd acquired from the recycling session had pulled her through in her time of need, but now she was hurting again.

Then, after four days of increasingly higher temperatures, Hig decided to call it quits. He couldn't subject Lurde and Gamy to anymore then they'd already endured and keep a clear conscious. They had reached a point on the eastern fringe where the heat was so intense, even the foliage was wilted and turning yellow. Moreover, they hadn't come across any water since leaving the campsite near where they'd found Gamy. And because of the heat, they'd been forced to drink more water than usual. If they turned back now, they would barely have enough to retrace their steps to the pond.

Then, they met their first straggler. However, he looked nothing like the frail old people they expected to encounter; he was young, muscular, and vibrant, of both personality and physical attributes. But what surprised and baffled Lurde and Hig even more than his young features was his complete disregard for the heat; though he moved with stealth and speed, he wasn't even sweating.

He seemed as genuinely surprised to see them, as they were him.

"Hold up there!" Hig called out, his hand instinctively grasping the hilt of his long-knife.

Still thirty paces from them, the man abruptly stopped. Looking warily toward Hig, and then to Lurde beyond him, his face slowly broke into a smile; he liked what he saw!

Hig, realizing that the man was studying Lurde, slowly and deliberately drew the long-knife from its sheath. To Hig's dismay and chagrin, the man didn't pay him any mind; he was too busy studying Lurde's sweat-glistened body, or so Hig assumed.

What the man was truly intent on was the child held snuggly in the pack slung over her chest. Where he came from, and where Hig and Lurde were unknowingly bound for, children were still a rarity, an extremely precious commodity.

Lurde, having grown accustomed to the leers and unwanted attentions of men, realized immediately that the man's focus was on Gamy, and not her. In fact, she felt no threat from the man at all.

Without reaching for her weapon, she strolled almost casually past Hig, and toward the stranger. As she drew nearer to him, his mouth fell open, and he stepped toward her, his hands held out to touch the child. It was as if he couldn't believe his eyes, but had to confirm what he was seeing through the sense of touch.

Hig, befuddled by Lurde's actions, yet trusting her judgment explicitly, followed close behind, his hand still gripping the long-knife before him.

The man, having reached Lurde, gently caressed Gamy's head, both amazed and confounded by the sight of a child this far to the east.

"How is it possible?" he finally asked, looking beseechingly into Lurde's eyes.

Before Lurde could speak, the man's expression changed slightly. A flicker of understanding passed behind his eyes. Then, after looking from Gamy's face to Lurde's, he said, "The child is not yours."

"No," she said softly.

Before anyone could say anything else, Hig emphatically declared, "Maybe not by blood, but by Hell, if anyone thinks of taking him away from us!"

Stepping back and raising his hands, the palms held outward to indicate that he meant no harm, the man light-heartedly said, "I have no intention of separating this child from its lovely guardian. I made the comment only because I don't see the same physical attributes between woman and child. Please, I mean no harm," he quickly added.

Relaxing a little, Hig let the long-knife slide home in its sheath. Although he didn't sense any danger from the stranger, he found that he was relieved when the man stood back from Lurde and Gamy.

Before Hig could say anything, the stranger continued, "I am Milo, at your service."

"Hig, and this is Lurde. The child's name is Gamy," Hig quickly responded.

Turning his attention back to the child, Milo reached out and gently tickled Gamy's chin, while saying, "So your name is Gamy, huh?"

For the first time, he noticed Gamy's deformities, and a mistaken understanding for their journey came to mind. Speaking as though they were aware of what lay ahead of them to the east, he said, "For a child that is not of your flesh and blood, your commitment if commendable. I apologize for having detained you."

Confused by his remark, Hig said, "You have not detained us. I was just considering turning back toward the west."

Lurde shot a glance at Hig, his comment taking her by surprise. "Are you sure that is what you want?" she asked of him, suddenly oblivious of Milo.

"Yes," he said with finality. "I have put you through enough already. It is time for me to put my past behind me and concentrate on our future."

Now it was Milo's turn to be confused. "Why would you turn back now?" he asked incredulously. "You are less than two hours from your journey's end!"

Lurde and Hig looked at him, perplexed that a stranger would have any inkling of their journey. "What are you, a soothsayer?" Hig asked sarcastically.

"Even that wouldn't explain how he knows of our mission and us, only the outcome," Lurde added.

Frustrated by the heat and absurdity of their situation, while facing this stranger from the east that wasn't even sweating, Hig demanded that he explain how he knew of them and their journey.

"It is no mystery," he casually replied. "Unless I am mistaken, you are searching for the floating domain of Keazar's. It is your wish to have the child recycled, and that will also be their wish, when you arrive."

Hig suddenly felt lightheaded. Turning toward Lurde, she reached out and put a hand on his forearm, looking to steady herself.

"It must be the heat," he stated as if in reply to her unspoken question. "We're hallucinating."

Milo looked at them questioningly. "I assure you, you're not hallucinating."

"Are you telling us that less than two hours distance from here is a floating domain with a recycling apparatus on board?" Hig asked incredulously.

Hig and Lurde had both heard of floating domains during their previous lives on the surface. But until they started their journey eastward, they hadn't actually ever seen one. However, during their journey, they'd encountered several, and had met the people living in their shadows, even though they'd never been invited aboard one. So, it didn't come as any surprise to be told that there was a floating domain farther to the east, even if it seemed a trifle strange that someone would live in this heat if he didn't have to.

But even more absurd than the fact that there was a floating domain just a short distance to the east, the man named Milo also claimed that this one had a recycling apparatus aboard!

"Yes, I thought you must have known," he replied skeptically. "Am I mistaken? You both look as though you didn't know about Keazar's floating domain."

"We didn't," Lurde replied honestly, all pretense or deception abandoned.

"Then, if I might be so brazen as to ask, what are you doing this far to the east?" Milo asked incredulously.

"You wouldn't understand," Lurde started to say, when Hig cut her off.

"We're looking for someone."

Milo studied him for a moment before saying, "This someone must be very important to you if you would risk your mate and child by venturing so close to the eastern fringe."

"If what you say is truth, then I guess you deserve the truth from us," Hig solemnly replied.

"I have no reason to lie to you," Milo soberly responded. "It would be unthinkable and cruel to send someone farther east than we already stand, especially such a beautiful woman and child," he added, looking Lurde over as if he were seeing her for the first time. "Maybe if you tell me who it is you are looking for, I might be of some help. After all, there are very few, if any, people east of here that I don't know."

"Her name is Leeta," Hig said without hesitation. "When last seen, she was paralyzed from the chest down."

"And you believe she was abandoned by her tribe because of her infliction?" Milo asked of him.

"Yes, she was abandoned by her tribe because of her affliction," Hig said gravely. "But she was not abandoned by me!"

"I'm sure she wasn't," he said sincerely, his eyes showing his belief in Hig's word. "Furthermore, I'm sure it's a long story that would lead us back to where we stand now. So rather than sit here and listen while the sun rises on our backs, let me propose this to you."

"I'm listening," Hig replied.

"I'll accompany you back to Keazar's domain, and you will tell me what became of this Leeta that you're searching for."

"We'll be glad of your company," Lurde quickly answered when Hig hesitated.

"Then let us be off," he said almost gaily.

They set off toward the east, the lithe young man adjusting his easy gait to match their slower, more labored pace. Before they started their story, Hig asked of Milo, "Why is it that you don't have any supplies or weapons?"

"I have no need for either. If someone feels the need to kill me, so be it. I carry nothing of value, not even a weapon, as you've pointed out. If I have need of water, I'm sure I will find some. If not, that too shall pass. The same with food."

"You're suggesting that if you die, Keazar will find your remains and recycle you, aren't you?" Hig asked incredulously, as understanding blossomed in his mind.

"Not Keazar personally, but one of his many followers and previous recyclees." He paused for a moment before adding, "If, for instance, I had come across your bodies, I would have been obliged to return to Keazar with samples of your remains for recycling. When everyone shares this mantra, no one will ever have to fear death again."

"You make it all sound so simple," commented Lurde.

"If it sounds simple, then I have achieved my goal, because in truth, it is a very complicated process. But I am sure that with Keazar overseeing what Rod has put in place, things will change for the better."

"Rod!" Hig blurted. "Captain Rodick, the pilot?"

"I see you've heard of him, if not Keazar, then."

Not hearing Milo's words, but his mind reeling with the possibility and excitement, Hig asked, "Was there a woman with him that went by the name of Loté?" And then, before Milo could answer, he hurriedly added, "She was tall, with long, dark hair. A very beautiful woman, young!"

"Then you do know them?" he stated, more than asked.

Stopping to catch his breath and let his racing heart slow for a minute, Hig turned to Lurde and said, "That is my daughter."

Grabbing Hig and embracing him with the child suspended between them, she cried, "Hig, we must hurry. I am so excited for you!"

Turning toward Milo, Lurde spoke first, "Is she ahead, on Keazar's domain?"

Though he was confused by Hig's original reaction, his own anxiety grew as understanding began to sink in; he was looking at the recycled father of Loté!

"Yes," he finally blurted. "Yes, she and Rod have plans to head out within the week. But they are there now. Moreover, he is looking for you! In fact, he and Loté have been looking for you for a long time."

"My god," Hig gasped. "We must hurry!"

"But," Milo said hesitantly, looking at Lurde, "You are not Leeta."

"No," Hig quickly replied. "We are looking for Leeta. Do you know of her?"

"Of course, I know of her!" he emphatically declared. Then, hesitantly added, "That is, now that I know we are talking of the same woman, I do know her."

"Have you seen her? Is she alive?" Hig demanded, growing more anxious by the moment.

Now it was Hig and Lurde's turn to be perplexed, as Milo suddenly grew quiet and thoughtful. After thinking over his words for a minute, while Hig waited impatiently, he said, "I will tell you that she is alive, and that I have seen her recently." He paused for a long moment, carefully choosing his next words before continuing. "She lives aboard Keazar's domain. But I can't tell you anymore than that. You will have to wait until you see her. Then she can tell you all that you need to know."

When he finished speaking, he finished with such finality that Hig felt compelled not to press him for more information, though he was bursting at the seams with questions. It was almost more than he could comprehend; they were about to find Leeta, as well as his daughter, Loté! The end of his journey was suddenly and un-expectantly close at hand!

But was he excited over the fact that he was finding Leeta alive, or that he could begin his life with Lurde and Gamy? Suddenly, he wasn't so sure.

"I'm sorry, Milo, but you will have to wait to hear our tale. Now, we must hurry. My mate Leeta and my daughter Loté are close as hand."

When he referred to Leeta as his mate, a cloud passed fleetingly across Milo's expression. But Hig was too preoccupied with the idea of seeing his family again to notice. With Lurde's hand held securely in his own, he led the way east.

He also didn't notice that Milo felt little desire to keep up, and the gaiety had gone from his step. Something was troubling Milo, but neither Hig nor Lurde knew him well enough to notice the change.

Within the hour, they had covered several miles and both were breathing hard; their bodies were drenched with sweat, and they all needed water, including Milo. Although much had been discussed, and Hig hadn't doubted what Milo had told them, he felt that at the pace they'd been traveling, they should have come across the floating domain by now.

Coming to a stop, he released Lurde's hand and turned to face Milo, an accusatory glint in his eye, his right hand resting idly on the hilt of the long-knife. Milo, sensing the growing doubt in Hig, decided to assuage it before it got out of hand.

"You and Leeta were frail old people when you saw your daughter last. The two of you were bound to the back of an aging behemoth when you were attacked by a band of native scavengers. While Rod and Loté fought for their lives, the behemoth was spooked and bolted through the jungle. By the time the battle was over, you and Leeta were long gone." He hesitated for a moment, debating if he should say more, or if he'd said enough for the time being.

He finally decided to add, "I know you care deeply for Leeta, and I can understand that. But you'll have to trust me and hear the rest from her."

"The rest of what?" Hig angrily demanded.

Lurde put a hand on his arm to calm him. Speaking calmly, she said, "I trust him, Hig. We'll just have to wait and see."

If Hig had been paying closer attention to Lurde, he would have seen the subtle change come over her; she read more meaning into Milo's words than Hig, and she found renewed hope buried within them.

Overcome with anxiety, she said, "Come on, Hig, we're wasting time here."

Lurde caught what she thought was a subtle wink from Milo, which seemed to confirm her suspicions. Yet, she couldn't be sure; she didn't want to get her hopes up only to be disappointed. Soon enough, they would meet Leeta face to face. Then she would know for certain whether her suspicions regarding Leeta and Milo were correct or not.

It took little inciting on her part to get Hig hurrying. Like Lurde, he could see the end of his journey. Unlike Lurde and her suspicions, he was completely oblivious of the outcome that might be forthcoming.

With Milo trailing on their heels, Hig and Lurde set a rapid pace. The jungle was already thinning out from the high heat, turning the vegetation into steaming piles of yellow slime and exposing bare splotches of obsidian rock.

They kept up their swift pace for almost ten minutes, when Hig abruptly stopped, reaching out and grabbing Lurde's arm. Milo, also sweating in the heat, quickly halted beside them, following Hig's gaze with prior knowledge of what was to be seen.

Off in the distance, no longer shielded by the jungle canopy, was a huge object suspended high in the air. From the distance they were observing it, none of the tethering lines or hundreds of laboring people beneath it could be seen. To the uninitiated, it was a splendidly magnificent sight. Awesome didn't come close to describing it.

While Hig searched for the right words, Lurde whispered in awe, "It's beautiful."

"That's Keazar's domain," Milo said softly, not wanting to disturb the moment. His familiarity with it didn't make it any less humbling.

Even from this great distance, they could tell that it was moving toward them. To Hig's greater surprise and alarm, he could see direct sunlight glinting off the sheltering roof. His first thoughts turned to the immense heat that it must be enduring.

"How is that possible?" he mumbled more to himself than Milo.

Misunderstanding the question, Milo said, "Built into the structure is a large, membranous sack containing many thousands of cubic feet of lighter-than-air gas."

"No, I mean, how come it doesn't burn up from the sun's rays shining directly upon it?" he asked, his voice belying the awe he was feeling inside. Then, before Milo could explain, he added, "And how can people live inside of it? It must be terribly hot inside."

"The roof is covered with mirror-like panels that actually absorb the sun's energy. The energy from the panels in turn powers the recyclers and cools the interior." He hesitated for a moment before confessing, "It really is quite a complicated process, and it wouldn't be right for me to trivialize it by trying to explain it to you. When we get there, I will introduce you to Keazar, and he can answer all of your questions then."

"That would be fine," spoke up Lurde for the first time since stopping. "Gamy is breathing hard from the heat, and he isn't even doing any of the work," she added lightly, trivializing the seriousness of the situation because of her growing anxiety and trepidation.

Soon, they will be face to face with Leeta, and Hig will be forced to make a decision. Although Lurde believed him when he told her about the depth of his love for her, and the part of his life with Leeta being over, until he shared these feelings with Leeta, she was the other woman, the outsider peering in. And until he severed the bond that he had with Leeta, she couldn't rest.

"I understand," Milo said softly, his own excitement growing. "We will be there shortly and Keazar will see to his comfort."

They turned eastward and continued toward the domain at a more sedated pace. They were all growing fatigued by the extreme heat, including Milo, and there wasn't any water to assuage their thirst.

Drawing nearer, Hig could make out the guy wires tethering the domain to the surface. Shortly after that, he distinguished movement directly below it, partially concealed in the immense shadow.

Though it was difficult, Milo explained what they were seeing. "The wires are tied off to many groups of people that keep the domain from floating away by their combined weight, while at the same time, lugging it westward. By the relaying of orders from Keazar above, and rotating shifts of people below, the domain is maintained at just the right distance from the horizon to optimize the sun's rays across the reflective panels on the roof."

Hig and Lurde listened attentively to his every word, adrenaline keeping their feet moving across the rocky ground without stumbling, while they drew progressively closer to their destiny.

"The people take turns in the harnesses, and no one pulls a shift that they don't want to." He paused to catch his breath before continuing, "When you're not in harness, you're allowed to go aboard and cool off. And even then, if you don't want to wear a harness, you can always join a hunting or foraging party. There is never too much food or water to be had."

Milo grew silent as they crested a small rise in the surface and stood directly in the path of the slowly approaching domain. The people struggling beneath the structure were close enough to see the sweat glisten off their naked bodies, as well as make out facial features. Though Hig knew Leeta or Loté wouldn't be among the harnessed pullers, he had developed the habit of studying everyone they came across.

From their vantage point, the domain looked even more impressive and daunting by its sheer size and stature. Involuntarily, Hig cringed, lowering his head and ducking; it was an awe-inspiring sight.

Lurde reached out and took Hig's hand; she too shared the humbling impression generated by it. Only Gamy wasn't impressed, as he snuggled deeper into the pack to escape the heat.

"Come, we are almost there," Milo said, interrupting their thoughts and drawing them back to the present.

They walked toward the domain, each moving as if in a trance brought on by their heat-induced fatigue and the magnificent sight of the domain.

Suddenly a cry broke out from the lead group, announcing their arrival. "Milo!" someone yelled. "He's returned already!" cried out another. And yet another, "Send down the elevator! He returns with stragglers!"

Stopping the forward movement of the domain proved to be no easy task. Although all of the harness wearers ceased their forward progress, the tremendous momentum of the domain continued to surge forward, forcing them to trot along with it or be dragged over the course, rocky ground. The more experienced easily lifted their feet and momentarily floated, suspended just inches above the surface by the harness.

Slowly, it came to rest less than one hundred feet from where they stood. Almost immediately, they could hear the groaning of gears and pulleys as an overloaded elevator was lowered to the surface near the rear of the domain. With Milo gently urging them forward, they moved toward the inviting shadow created by the large structure above. Two young boys came scurrying between the harnessed workers bearing flagons of water for the new arrivals.

When the boys reached them, they stopped and took the proffered flagons, drinking deeply of the cool liquid. Hig and Lurde had never tasted such cool water before, and savored each swallow as it glided down their parched throats.

All three had finished drinking and Lurde was pressing the cool flagon into the pack beside Gamy, where it would help cool his heated flesh, when the elevator touched down on the surface. As one, they faced the group of people stepping off the platform. With his stomach tied up in knots, Hig suddenly recognized the young woman that he'd chosen for his mate so many years before.

She, likewise, recognized the youthful Hig as the man with whom she'd shared her life.

Standing next to her and holding her hand, was his daughter Loté, still as beautiful as he remembered. Standing behind them with his right hand resting softly on Loté's shoulder was the pilot, Captain Rodick. Next to him, stood a large, opulent man adorned in gaudy jewelry and trinkets. Although Hig had never laid eyes on the man before, he suspected he was looking at the magnanimous man called Keazar.

For a long moment, no one moved. The tranquil moment suddenly came to an end when Milo joyously cried out, "Leeta! Look who I have found!"

Lurde knew immediately that she was in trouble!

### **16**

Hesitantly, almost nervously, the two groups moved toward each other. The harnessed men and women were silent, expectantly watching the reunion play out before them. Except for the occasional creak of leather or the jangle of an errant chain, an eerie calm descended upon the area.

With Milo leading the newcomers and Leeta leading the descended group from the domain, they closed the distance between them. When they were less than fifteen feet apart, Keazar jovially cried out, "There will be a party today!"

It broke the tension, and warm embraces quickly ensued. First Hig and Leeta, and then Hig and Loté. After brief introductions to reacquaint the now-youthful, unfamiliar faces, Leeta and Lurde embraced.

More introductions followed, in which Hig introduced his daughter Loté to Lurde, and Loté introduced Keazar to Hig and Lurde and then Rod to Lurde. And although there was much hugging and smiling, Lurde sensed a growing chill settling into her bones, a chill that was more than just the cool air surrounding them in the shadow of the domain.

Lurde, her thoughts jumbling together in chaos, was suddenly aware that the flamboyant man introduced to her as Keazar was herding them aboard the cable-suspended platform. "Come, come, people, we must be getting aboard. If we stay here too long, the sunrise will overtake us! As you can see, we are but mere hours from excruciating heat."

No sooner had the last foot left the surface, and then the platform started rising. With much creaking and groaning, the ropes straining against their load, the platform slowly lifted skyward, its destination a small aperture in the bottom of the domain almost two hundred feet off the ground.

When the platform was barely inches off the ground, the ground crew of men and women put their combined weights against their well-fitted harnesses and heaved forward, starting the domain on its westward journey, and setting the platform to swing like a pendulum.

The trip skyward was a blur to Lurde. Though she tried to take notice of the people surrounding her, she was constantly distracted by a rambunctious Gamy, and the breathtaking panoramic views opening before her.

Suddenly the platform lurched, and Lurde reflexively wrapped her arms tighter around Gamy. A hand reached out and quickly steadied her. Turning, she thanked the large man standing before her. Yet, she didn't miss the grapple between Leeta and Milo, who quickly separated after throwing a self-conscious glance at the others. Distractedly, she wondered if Hig had seen their reaction together.

Her thoughts were abruptly cut off when she realized that Keazar was speaking to her.

"I'm sorry," she suddenly blurted. "You were saying."

"Quite all right," he said magnanimously. "My first ride on this contraption left me quite breathless too." Another lurch, only smaller and less noticeable, caused him to reach out and put his large, beefy hand on her shoulder. She found his touch both gentle and calming. She also realized that he was much more adroit on his feet than his large size would have you believe.

He continued, "I was admiring the child."

"Yes," she blurted, glad the conversation was steering away from relationships. "He's quite a bright boy."

"I can see that," he quickly agreed. "I can see that he also suffers from some other problems." While he said this, he reached forward and slid Gamy out of the pack, holding his tiny, mutilated body up before him so that he could more easily examine the child.

Defensively, Lurde stated, "We found him like that."

"Yes, that doesn't surprise me." He paused for a moment while he finished his cursory exam of Gamy's malformations. "I am surprised that he lived long enough for the damage to mend as well as it has."

"When you get to know him as well as I have, you will see why it's so hard to part from him; he is a most adorable child."

Holding Gamy so that he could look eye to eye with him, he murmured more to Gamy than to Lurde, "I am sure we will get to know each other very well in time."

Though Lurde didn't like the implications of what Keazar said, since she had no intentions of staying on his floating domain any longer than was absolutely necessary, she discovered that she trusted him. She didn't believe for one minute that Keazar would ever keep Gamy away from her, unless she agreed to it; and she knew in her heart that she would never agree to any such thing!

Hig was suddenly standing next to her. "We've been told that you can fix the child."

"Oh yes, of course!"

"How long will that take?" Hig asked in a serious tone of voice.

Lurde could tell by the tone of Hig's voice that he too had seen the reaction between Leeta and Milo. And like her, she could tell that he was eager to leave, to be on their way so they could put the past behind them. But unlike Hig, Lurde had no intention of leaving before they took care of their business, and that included resolving more than Gamy's regeneration. They had come too far to not see it to the end!

The lift was almost to the top, when Loté approached Lurde. Keazar still held Gamy, speaking baby talk and making faces for him. Lurde noted that Loté was indeed a beautiful woman, one that would surely attract the attention of many men. She noticed also that Loté was nervous, hesitant about something. Lurde wondered if it was possible that Loté knew what she herself only suspected; that Milo and Leeta were in love.

"Keazar is quite the man, is he not?" she said softly, watching the big man interact with Gamy.

Hig was moving toward Milo, and Lurde suddenly felt the tension smothering her. She reached behind her and grabbed the rail to steady herself. Loté, afraid that Lurde was going to feint, grabbed her by the shoulders and steadied her. Immediately, she sensed that something was wrong and followed Lurde's gaze.

"You suspect what my father already knows," Loté whispered in her ear, startling her with her directness and clarity of understanding.

"He knows?" she blurted, and then quickly looked around self-consciously to see if anyone else was watching or listening.

"My father raised me almost single-handedly," she said conciliatorily. "He is a very perceptive man." She paused a moment, her hands still firmly holding Lurde by the shoulders. "If it makes you feel any better, I can tell you that you have nothing to worry about."

Lurde was still watching Hig as he stood talking casually to Milo. Loté's statement brought her focus back to the woman standing before her. She was about to ask her how she knew this, when the platform thumped to a halt; they had reached the lower level of the floating domain.

"If you will step off first, I will hand you back this wonderful child," Keazar was saying to her.

With Loté's assistance, she cautiously stepped from the platform onto the domain proper. Turning back, she reached out and took Gamy from Keazar's extended arms. Even before everyone was off the platform, they were surrounded by young men and women bearing fruits and beverages.

Lurde, holding Gamy tightly against her breasts, turned slowly in a circle, seeing the massive structure from an angle few people ever acknowledged. While she was awestruck by its size, she also felt a growing unease, much like a caged animal. Her heart felt constricted in her chest, and she was finding it increasingly difficult to breathe. Suddenly, her vision blurred, and she reached out to keep from falling. As she faded into oblivion, she was aware of many arms encircling her, keeping her safe.

"Lurde!" Hig cried out as she stumbled forward.

Moving with animal grace and speed, Loté, the nearest to her, reached out to her first, dropping the beverage she'd just accepted as she did so. While Loté wrenched the child from her grasp, Rod got an arm around her waist and lifted her up, settling her into a cradle formed by his strong arms.

Keazar, recognizing the symptoms, quickly calmed everyone. "She only fainted!" he said to those listening. Then, to Rod and Loté, he said, "Bring them to the recycling chambers."

Concerned, Hig jumped in front of them and demanded where they were taking her and the child. Leeta quickly grabbed him by the arm and told him she would explain. Somewhat confused, he reluctantly stepped aside at Leeta's urging, and allowed them to proceed.

"It's all right, Hig," she said consolingly. Taking a beverage from one of the nearer servers, she handed it to Hig and said, "Drink this. I'll explain everything in a minute."

She started to turn toward Milo, when he grabbed her roughly by the arm and spun her back toward him. "No, explain it now!"

Milo, concerned for Leeta, started forward to intercede when Leeta raised her hand and said, "It's all right, Milo. Go ahead and leave us for a bit. He has a right to know."

Reluctantly, Milo turned and followed after the servers toward the open deck on the top level. Even from this angle, Hig could see workers busy decorating the area up there for a celebration, but there wasn't any merriment in his heart.

When they were alone, Leeta turned toward Hig and said softly, "I can see that you have deep feelings for Lurde."

Unable to argue with her, he remained silent, waiting to hear her out. She was a beautiful young woman, not unlike the Leeta that he had first chosen for his mate. But that was a long time ago, in another life.

Studying Hig, she slowly added, "I see also that you know about recycling."

"You're wasting time!" he said angrily.

"Then you tell me," she screamed back at him. "What do you want to hear, that Milo and I are lovers?" She paused a moment, her breath sounding ragged with emotion. "Well there, I said it!" She suddenly broke into tears, crying the words, "I never meant to be dishonorable to you."

Touched, Hig softened. "You have not dishonored me," he said gently. "No more than I have you."

"You had my blessing," she whispered through a tear-filled voice.

Unable to restrain himself, he reached out and took her into his arms. "It's all right," he said soothingly. "It's not our fault that we fell out of love long before we broke our commitment to each other."

She stepped back, shocked by the truth in his words. "We did, didn't we?"

"Yes. But until I met Lurde, I didn't know. We stayed together for Loté's sake, and then because I couldn't just leave you behind. But I forgot to love you." He paused for a moment before adding, "But don't think that I ever resented you, because I never did! When we ceased being lovers, we became the best of friends, and that was enough for a very long time."

"But it's not enough anymore," she finished the thought for them both. "Now that we are faced with eternity, we have to think of eternity."

They stood facing each other, silently gazing into each other's eyes, searching for the answers they both longed for; the truth they needed to hear that could only come from the other.

Hig spoke first. "If it's my blessing you want, than you have it. You are free of any bonds that I might have placed on you."

"Do you think it's that simple?" she cried, suddenly on the verge of tears. Though she had longed to hear him say those words, they suddenly seemed shallow and empty.

"I can't give you anymore than your freedom from me," he emphatically replied. "I have no more to give."

"As the friend you proclaim to be," she started to plead, "grant me our history!"

"Don't be a fool, woman," he angrily retorted. "What do you think our daughter is?"

She grew silent. His words struck a chord with her. Whatever else they had missed out on, they would always have Loté; no one could ever take that away from them.

"We did do something worthwhile with our lives, didn't we?" she humbly stated.

"And we have all of eternity to continue doing something worthwhile," he added consolingly.

"We will always be Loté's parents, and we will always be friends, won't we?"

"Yes."

"Good. Now come, let's go find Lurde and your son, Gamy," she said, taking his hand and leading him.

"I would like that," he gently replied.

"By the way," she suddenly asked of him. "Where did you find the child?" Before he could answer, she added, "Did you hear that Keazar solved the fertility problem with the recycling apparatus? No, of course not," she gaily answered for him, her spirit and voice rising equally. "You just got here. How could you possibly know about Keazar, much less his accomplishments? He is quite a remarkable man."

"Yes, so I've heard," Hig barely managed to say, before she started speaking again.

While she led him toward the recycling lab, speaking almost nonstop about Milo, Loté, Rod, and Keazar, Hig was reminded of the Leeta he married when she was a young, vibrant woman so many years ago; Milo was getting himself quite a package.

She led him to an interior freight elevator that was manned by a young woman that quickly acknowledged Leeta by name. Hig was quick to note the respect the young woman felt for Leeta clearly visible in her eyes.

When the lift started to rise, Hig noticed the inner wall was scorched and charred by a recent fire; it also showed clear evidence of claw or nail marks scratched into it. Before Hig could query Leeta about it, she introduced the young woman to him. Hig simply smiled and nodded his acknowledgement of her. The girl blushed and turned away. Leeta winked at Hig, though he wasn't sure he understood her implication.

When the lift reached the third, uppermost floor of the domain, Hig quickly stepped off onto what had been an open-air platform at one time. Now, thanks to Keazar's remodeling and installation of solar panels, it had been divided into two main sections. Although approximately one-third of the deck remained untouched, and was still used as an observation deck and for social gatherings, it was no longer open to the sky; the solar panels started at a height of approximately five feet from the floor of the deck and spanned to all edges, rising to a height of nearly forty-feet at the center.

Glancing to his left, Hig was surprised by the number of people working on decorating the area for the upcoming festivities. Leeta, seeing the surprise on his face, quickly clarified for him. "Almost everyone on the domain has been alerted to your arrival. The only ones that won't be at the party will be those on tow duty." Before he could respond, she quickly added, "And even the normal shift has been staggered so that everyone will get to spend some time up here partaking of the celebration."

At their arrival, several of the festivity preparers turned and waved, some happily calling out to Leeta and asking for her opinion. She gaily smiled back before turning to Hig and indicating the closed door in the wall to their right. "Through there."

Without hesitation, Hig moved toward the solid wood door, vaguely reminded of a fortress gate with heavy steel hinges; it seemed like an extravagant use of such a fine material.

For a handle, a simple strap of leather was tied through a natural looking knothole. Grasping the end of the strap, Hig pulled outward, expecting it to take some effort. He was surprised and caught off guard by the ease with which it swung outward, almost striking Leeta to his left. Before he could react, he was flooded in bright light. Squinting against the glare, he gingerly stepped across the threshold.

"Well, we were wondering how long you would be," Keazar's voice boomed in the white-walled, cavernous room. "Welcome to my lab."

Hig had frozen at the first sound of his voice, his hand automatically going to the hilt of his long-knife. "It's all right," came Leeta's reassuring voice from close behind. Moving past him, she took his hand in hers and led him toward a small group of people standing near one of six recycling machines lined up along the rear wall. "Come along," she urged, when he hesitated, waiting for his eyes to adjust.

He recognized the large shape of Keazar first, then his daughter Loté, with Rod standing next to her. Glancing around, he noticed a myriad of machines and gadgets lined up along the interior wall, starting from the door and running to the end. That was obviously Keazar's workbench, where he perfected all the amazing developments that Hig had heard about.

Moving too slow for Leeta, she tugged on his hand, forcing him to hurry. When they got closer, Loté stepped away from the others and took Hig's other hand, leading him to the place where she had just been standing.

"Look father," she said elatedly, holding his arm while pointing into the recycler.

Hig followed her gaze and saw the small form of Gamy, completely connected to the machine with a multitude of wires and hoses running in and out of him. He had seen all this before, and didn't immediately comprehend her level of excitement. Only when he gazed upon the child's impotent form for a moment, did he see the changes taking place before his eyes. Although he hadn't watched anyone in a recycling machine for any length of time before, he knew he was witnessing something incredible. The machine had been running for just a few minutes, and already he could see the changes taking place to Gamy's extremities; they were metamorphosing and growing into normal limbs before his eyes.

"How is that possible?" he asked in awe.

Loté was the first to speak, though everyone knew Keazar would be the last. "Keazar's amazing, isn't he? What used to take months, even years, has been reduced to a matter of minutes!"

"It's nothing, really," Keazar humbly replied. "Between the constant source of energy up here, and the fresh air, I made some extraordinary improvements on an old theory, is all."

"Keazar is much too modest," Loté beamed.

While they stood watching Gamy's continued improvements, Keazar silently slipped away, heading directly to the recycling machine at the end of the row. Within moments, he was coming back, and he wasn't alone.

"Hig, if I can have your attention for a moment, there is someone here that would like to see you."

Looking away from the recycling machine, Hig saw a rejuvenated Lurde standing next to the corpulent Keazar, his arm tenderly around her shoulders. She was smiling back at him, her beauty brighter than the lights overhead.

Awestruck, he separated himself from the others, and glided toward her, the name of his love slipping easily from his lips, "Lurde!"

Keazar let his arm drop to his side and watched as Lurde moved away from him; like the finest steel to a magnet, she was drawn to the man she loved. Their embrace was crushing as they held each other in their arms.

Keazar drifted over to the others as they watched in silence, each afraid to speak for fear of shattering the moment. Rod's arm slid around Loté's waist, and she turned a wistful eye to him. Milo took Leeta's hand in his own, and smiled down at her. Although Keazar was about to interrupt everyone's tranquility with his booming voice and impatience to get the party underway, the moment would last forever in the memories of those that participated that day.

"Come! If we don't hurry, they will start without us!" Keazar bellowed loudly, his voice an octave higher than usual from all the emotions in the room.

"You can go on without us," Lurde said.

"Yes, go on without us," concurred Hig. "We're going to stay and watch our son develop."

"Suit yourselves," he said gaily, moving toward the exit. "I will be back before he finishes to get him out."

"That won't be necessary," Lurde quickly piped up, stopping him in his tracks.

Turning a concerned look toward them, Keazar asked, "Are you sure?"

"Yes, we've done this before. Go ahead, enjoy yourself, we'll be out soon enough," agreed Hig.

Keazar gave a good-natured sigh and slough of his shoulders before turning back toward the door. The others offered their assistance if they needed it, and headed after him. All, that is, except Leeta. She waited until the others were through the door and had closed it behind them before turning to Hig and Lurde.

"Forgive me if I'm intruding on your private time," she slowly started.

Lurde saw the difficulty she was having finding the right words and said, "It's all right, Leeta. You deserve a man like Milo, someone that can return your love. Hig and I have each other now, and it's time we all moved on."

"Yes, you're right, it's time we move on," she hesitantly agreed, before pausing a long moment. Lurde felt that she should let her finish this time and not interrupt. "Do you plan to stay on the domain for long?" she finally blurted. "If you do, that's fine. But I'm sorry, every time I look at either of you, I feel guilty, and I like it here." She was speaking fast, trying to get everything out before she lost her nerve. "Milo goes out foraging and hunting, both for food and bodies, while I work up here helping Keazar. It's a good life, and I don't want to leave."

"It's all right, Leeta," Lurde spoke up, finally finding her voice. Reaching out to Leeta, Lurde put her hands on her shoulders to console her while saying, "We can't help the way you feel, even though we wish you wouldn't. But for what it's worth, our intentions were only to find you so that we could go on with our lives." She paused to catch her breath. "When we ran into Milo, and he told us about this domain and the recycler, we came for Gamy's sake. But our goal was still to find you."

"Yes," Hig said, taking over for Lurde. "I didn't intend to hurt you, or make you feel guilty for our past. Neither of those were ever my intention. All I wanted was to make sure you were okay, and that I could go on with my life."

"Oh Hig, I'm so sorry," Leeta cried.

"So am I," he said softly, putting his arms around the both of them. "So am I."

After a long moment, they drew apart and dried their eyes. Before Leeta left in search of Milo, Hig told her that they would be leaving just as soon as Gamy was able to travel. Leeta chuckled at his remark and suggested that they at least stay for the party.

Standing in silence, watching their son in his final stages of development, Hig slowly slid his arm around Lurde's waist. Lurde suddenly felt bubbly and excited, her skin tingling all over from his touch. She finally had everything she wanted; a man that loved her as much as she loved him, and a new son they could raise together.

Taking his hand in hers, she slid it slowly across the solid muscles of her tummy until she reached her firm, full breast. With growing passion, she pressed his hand over her hardened nipple, a soft moan of desire slipping past her parted lips.

"I want you, Hig," she huskily sighed, her voice thick with longing. "More than I have ever wanted anything in my life, I want you now."

She could feel his erection pressing against her outer thigh, and she knew that he felt the same towards her. Ever so gently, she turned her body to face him, his manhood rubbing against her bare skin and increasing her passion tenfold.

With breath so thick she could barely be understood, she moaned into his ear, "Take me. Make me your woman for all time."

"For all time," he whispered back, his heart pounding so hard his veins were visibly swelling and relaxing to the beats.

Lowering his hands to the small of her back, he pulled her hard against him, his manhood slipping deftly between her thighs. Yet, he hadn't penetrated her need, or brought her to the height of her yearning; he wasn't ready. Though he craved her body and flesh as much as she wanted him to have it, he wanted more, he needed her spiritually.

"Forever, Lurde."

"Forever, Hig."

They made intense and unrestrained love before the closed eyes of their son. And when their bodies cried out for rest, they came again, striving to climax until their passions broke their physical limitations as humans.

Their breath rasping loudly, they lay on the floor, wrapped in each other's arms. Though the air was artificially cooled, the bright lights glistened off their sweat-covered bodies.

Hig was the first to speak. "They are probably waiting for us out there."

"Let them wait. We have all of eternity, remember?"

Hig chuckled softly, and then caught his breath at the sound of the door whooshing inward. Instinctively, he rolled clear of Lurde and grasped the hilt of his long-knife.

"It's okay, my friend," came Keazar's voice as the bright lights lit up his face. Squinting for a moment while his eyes adjusted, he added, "It is almost time for the little one here to be removed." He chortled softly, while adding, "We don't want to leave him too long, or we could miss his entire childhood!"

Hig had risen to his feet and was helping Lurde to hers, when Keazar lifted the lid to Gamy's coffer. They were startled by the sound of a rambunctious child crying to be let out.

Laughing, Keazar said, "Please, if you'll give me a hand with him while I disconnect everything."

Lurde, smiling, reached Gamy first, and immediately lifted him from the recycling machine, the hose and cords dragging behind him. Moving with remarkable dexterity for his chubby fingers, Keazar took only seconds to remove the connections from his little body. And then Lurde could finally hold her child against her, and feel his loving warmth.

While Gamy's eyes met Hig's, his small, newly formed hands reached behind Lurde's head and pulled her long hair. Suddenly kicking and screaming to be let down, she set him on his feet while Keazar and Hig looked on. To all of their astonishment except Keazar's, Gamy stood like a normal child of his age. Lurde dropped to her knees, and with tears flooding her eyes, scooped the squirming child into her arms.

Almost as if he sensed something remarkable had just happened, he grew quiet and let her hug him. Hig, dropping to his knees beside her, put his arms around the both of them, turned his face toward Keazar and whispered, "Thank you."

Suddenly embarrassed by their gratitude, Keazar could only say, "It's what I do here." After a long moment, Keazar could tell they wanted to be alone and hurriedly made excuses to leave. "I will be outside partaking of the festivities. Whenever you're ready to join us, don't hesitate. From what I understand, a special treat has been prepared just for Gamy." He sniggered and added conspiratorially, "Though I must admit, I've had some before, and it is quite good."

He was referring to 'cake'. But he wasn't being completely truthful; the cake had been especially prepared for him. Yet, though he was fully aware of this little known fact, he would make sure everyone else believed the cake was a special treat for the child. After all, he'd seen terribly few children for way too long, and didn't every child deserve special treatment?

Of course, he intended for that to change shortly; the shortage of children, that is, not the special treatment they were entitled. Because, although no one else knew it aside from him, and Loté will have to tell Rod soon enough or he'll figure it out for himself, there are going to be babies on the domain. And if there aren't any complications, which he highly doubts that there will be, there are going to be lots.

"Where is everyone?" asked Leeta, as Keazar approached.

Smiling broadly, he said, "They will be here shortly."

Loté commented, "I'm surprised they wanted to stay in the lab and watch Gamy develop."

Keazar winked at her and asked sarcastically, "Do you have a problem with my lab?"

"She loves your lab," said Rod, feigning irritation. "She spends more time in your lab than she does with me."

"Maybe it's the company," Keazar jibed.

"Settle down, boys," Loté said heartily, entertained by their bantering.

Leeta was sitting on a padded bench snuggled into Milo's muscular arms. Each was nursing a large flagon of fermented fruit juice. Although the heat was considerably higher out on the deck than it was in the lab, everyone was dry and comfortable thanks to the low percentage of humidity drying them faster than they could sweat. So long as they took in the same amount of liquids as their bodies exuded, they would suffer no ill consequences.

Sitting quietly in Milo's embrace, Leeta was content. Although she didn't know what the future held for her and Milo, she was happy for the time being. He was a good, kind-hearted man, and he cared deeply for her. But while the other women had approached Keazar to ensure their fertility, she had seen Keazar for just the opposite reason. She was discovering the pleasures of love and romance, and she wasn't ready to care for a child, at least not yet.

When she was finished exploring on her own two feet, and wanted a break from the adventures of the world before her, she would want Milo's child. Until then, she was happy being single and mobile. She was also happy for Hig. All she ever wanted for him was his happiness, something she felt that as a cripple she was unable to give him.

Moreover, she had heard the stories of Rod and Loté's adventures, and she was happy for her daughter. They loved each other deeply; the kind of love Leeta hoped to find for herself someday. And, although Loté believed only Keazar knew of her pregnancy, she was well aware also, and she was glad that she was going to be a grandmother, even if she didn't feel or look like one.

She suspected that with Gamy's regeneration, Hig and Lurde would be on their way. They were excited about starting a new life together, and finding her son, Braun. She hoped all the best for them. She prayed for Hig to have the life that he had envisioned with her at one time.

For herself, though she wanted to do much exploring of this big planet, she was much more interested in staying on the domain for the time being and continuing her work with Keazar. When she finally leaves this awesome place, she intends to search out Jontue, so that she can work in his labs below the surface for a while. Eventually, it is her goal to have and run her own recycling lab; with Keazar's teaching and encouragement, she would eventually realize her dream. After all, she had all of eternity to succeed.

The din of the party was gradually growing in volume, when a voice penetrated Leeta's concentration. "This is a time to party, friend, not a time to mourn!"

She looked up to see Elsie, Loté's close friend and confidant, standing before them, swaying from side to side. "If you won't get up and join the party, I'm going to steal that man of yours," she added, leaning toward Milo.

"I'm fine," Leeta replied kindly, knowing that Elsie meant every word she said.

Elsie was about to say something else, her concern for Leeta misguided, when a young man swept Elsie out to the open area on the floor and started dancing with her. Although Leeta was feeling happy and content, she wasn't sure how to handle a tipsy Elsie, and was immediately grateful to the young man.

Looking toward her daughter, she said conciliatorily, "I owe that young man a thank you."

"That's her mate, Lute. They're really inseparable. She wouldn't do anything that she thought was actually going to hurt someone, she's just had too much spirit," Loté replied, her voice lowered.

"And we should all have too much spirit!" cried Keazar, picking up on the end of their conversation.

Just then, the lab door swung open and Lurde came through, the recycled Gamy held out in front of her for all to see, while Hig followed close behind. They walked slowly, waiting for their eyes to readjust to the lower light levels.

At the sight of them, a loud cheer went up from the growing crowd of celebrants. Beaming with joy, Lurde held Gamy high above her head for everyone to see. Hig suddenly felt exposed and vulnerable, but quickly relaxed at the sight of his daughter.

Though Gamy was the center of attention for the moment, it was Keazar that got the praise for his great work with the recycling machine.

As Hig and Lurde worked their way through the friendly crowd, Hig noticed that there was a steady stream of people coming and going from the lift. Though he had little idea who exactly was in charge of running the domain on the maintenance level, he was impressed with the smooth flow of personnel. It also didn't escape his attention that none of the people returning to the lower levels or surface was inebriated. Yet, they were all in good spirits and glad for the break in their routine; thanks to the efforts of many, they had much for which to be grateful.

Hig's thoughts were suddenly intruded upon by Rod's voice; he was asking him how long they planned to stay aboard the domain. Before he could collect his thoughts and respond, Lurde said, "We won't be staying but for a short rest after the party."

"I'm sorry to hear that," piped up Loté, genuine concern on her face as she looked at her father.

"It was only my concern to see to your well being, and that has been done," Hig said just loud enough for her and Rod to hear. "I am pleased with your selection for a mate," he continued, speaking like the old man he still felt like some times. To Hig's surprise, Rod blushed at the compliment. He thought back to the first time they'd met. "I've always liked you, Rod." Then, turning toward Loté, he smirked and added, "It was your mother that didn't approve."

Leeta, half listening, caught the later part of Hig's comment and jumped up indignantly. "Your father's memory was obviously not recycled with his body! If it were, he would remember that it was I, not him, which approved of you, Rod."

The argument was causing a mild uproar from the nearer celebrants that could hear the goings on. When Hig started to protest that it was the other way around, Rod jumped to his defense and said, "Enough, please! I am flattered that you both agree on Loté's choice for a mate, even if that agreement didn't come immediately, but we're here to celebrate, not argue."

"Hear, hear!" finished Keazar boisterously.

After many hours of drinking and dancing and telling of tales, the party started to wind down. Several of the crews in the harnesses had come and gone several times, and everyone was in dire need of rest. In addition, though Keazar would never let such a thing interfere with a celebration, the supplies of fruit and beverages were getting dangerously low; this far to the east, water was still in short supply, and the beverages represented many liters of the precious liquid.

Gamy had been taken to a room on the next level down several hours earlier. In addition, someone had taken his measurements and had fabricated a nice leather pouch with padded shoulder straps. Though the giver of the gift remained anonymous, it had been placed next to the sleeping child so as not to be missed. When Lurde picked it up to inspect the fine tooling and stitching, she noted that the pouch had adjustable sides for when Gamy grew. It also had strong loops stitched into the body for securing various utensils and such.

Holding it up for Hig's inspection, she said, "This is a fine gift, I am not sure that I am worthy. If I left it behind, I am sure someone more worthy than I would have use of it, maybe even Loté."

Hig started to reply that if she left it behind, it might be taken as an insult to the craftsman, when her ending remark finally registered.

"Loté!" he said incredulously. "Do you mean to tell me that my daughter is going to have a baby?"

"It is just a womanly hunch."

"But if that were true, wouldn't she tell me so that we could stay to see my grandchild?" he demanded.

"I told you, it is only a hunch. But if it is true, than she isn't telling you because she respects what you want for your own life."

"What I want for my own life is my business!" He paused in thought a moment before saying, "I must go see her."

"No, Hig. When your daughter is ready to tell you, she will. Don't put her on the spot."

"But I can't just leave here knowing she is carrying my grandchild," he half pleaded with her.

"Yes, you can. For Gamy's sake and mine, you will," she flatly stated. Then softening, she added, "Someday we will return and you will meet your grandchild then. Eternity is a long time, is it not?"

"Yes," he solemnly agreed. "It is." And then, almost resignedly, he added, "Let's rest; we have a long journey ahead of us."

With Gamy snuggled contentedly between them, they curled up on the sleeper, for the first time, like a family. The room, kept at the same temperature as would be found at an equal distance between the horizons on the equatorial trail, felt cool to them, and they quickly slipped into a deep, restful sleep.

Gamy woke first, kicking and stretching until he had Lurde's groggy attention. Trying hard not to disturb Hig, she crawled from his embrace and stole toward the exit with Gamy secure in her arms. Once past the heavy wood door, she left the relative darkness of the room behind, and was met with the bright glare and searing heat of the eastern fringe.

Milo was sitting on a bench with several others. The party was long over, and the cleanup complete. Upon seeing her, he rose to his feet and called out for her to join them.

Smiling and glad to find someone she knew in which to ask directions, she hastily headed toward him. When she neared him, he quickly introduced the people seated with him. Some of the faces were vaguely familiar, but none of their names rang a bell with her.

After a few moments of niceties and small talk, they took their cue from Milo and found other places to be. One of the young women, however, offered to return with food for her and the child. Lurde thanked her and advised her that Hig would be joining them shortly before asking if it wouldn't be less trouble just to have Milo guide them to the kitchen area. The young woman assured her that it would be no trouble and that she would bring enough for everyone.

As soon as the woman was out of earshot, Milo said, "I was hoping to catch you alone before either of us left."

Surprised, Lurde blurted, "I thought Leeta intended to remain here until she served her apprenticeship to Keazar."

"Oh, she does," he quickly reassured her. "But that doesn't preclude me from my own set of duties." When Lurde only looked at him, he quickly clarified. "It still falls on me to hunt and forage in addition to finding societies castoffs."

"But when we came across you on the trail, you weren't armed?" she asked perplexed.

"Supplies are high right now, I was just scouting ahead for water," he easily replied. He paused for a moment before taking a deep breath and continuing. "I was hoping we would get to speak alone before you left." When she remained silent, using Gamy's increasing fidgeting as a distraction, he forged ahead. "I know you're aware of Loté's upcoming motherhood, and hence Hig is also."

Surprising him, she acknowledged his statement. "Yes, I gathered as much. And yes, Hig knows as well."

Nervously, he continued. "I was afraid if Hig found out, he might decide to stay."

"He has no intentions of staying on this domain any longer than it's necessary to procure enough supplies and water to get us safely out of the eastern fringe," she said evenly.

"We agree on many things, Lurde," he said conspiratorially. "We have many common goals. I don't intend to let Leeta and Hig try a second relationship, as I'm sure you don't either."

She was forced to agree with him. Although she had hoped that it wouldn't come to that, she didn't intend to sit idly by and watch if it had. Fortunately, it hadn't come to pass. Yet, more importantly, she didn't intend to make any deals behind Hig's back, if that was what Milo intended.

"We're beyond that, Milo. Hig has no intentions of leaving Gamy and me," she confidently stated.

He smiled at her and said simply, "Good."

They sat and looked at each other for a moment. Without the need for further words, they had come to a mutual understanding and clearly understood each other.

Hig came through the heavy door and stopped, slowly rubbing his eyes and stretching before continuing toward them.

When he was still out of earshot, Milo said, "Good luck to you, Lurde."

"And to you, Milo."

"Where does one get something to eat around here?" Hig bellowed as he drew closer.

Getting to his feet, Milo smiled and said, "It would appear that we will have to go to the food, since the food hasn't come to us."

Lurde rose and gave Hig a kiss on the cheek.

"Follow me," Milo said, turning toward an opening in the wall toward the rear of the domain. "It's nice to see you again, Hig," he added casually.

Still half asleep, Hig only grunted in reply. With Gamy sitting astride Lurde's left arm, she hooked Hig's left with her right and followed after Milo.

He led them to an elevator and took them down to the main floor. From there, he led them back toward the front about half way before coming to a large wood door. With ease, he pulled the door open and stood back to allow them to enter first.

The door opened up on large, well-lit room with several long wooden tables lined with benches. Seated at the longest table near the center of the room were Keazar, Rod, Loté, and several others that Lurde didn't know, though all their faces were familiar from the party.

At the sight of them, Keazar rose to his feet and indicated for them to join them at the central table. It didn't slip Hig's notice that Keazar sat at the head, with Rod and Loté to his right and left.

Another door near the rear of the room was standing open and they could see the kitchen beyond. Several young women quickly brought them mugs of chilled water and fruit.

Keazar was the first to speak. "We understand that you intend to leave us as soon as you can procure the necessary supplies."

"Yes" Hig quickly replied. "We intend to return to Lurde's tribe, at least for awhile."

"Of course, you will return," he said almost jokingly. "Everyone does, eventually."

"We would never be a nuisance, I assure you," Lurde quickly responded.

"You will have to learn not to take him too seriously," Rod said of Keazar upon noticing the seriousness of her tone. "He would be delighted to have you as his guest any time."

"Yes, indeed I would! I can never be surrounded by too many beautiful women."

"Thank you," Lurde graciously replied, trying to relax.

Although she had always been a proud, self-reliant woman, she felt ill at ease in the presence of so many of Leeta's friends. She found little comfort in knowing they were all good people with only her best interests at heart.

"Since I sadly realize that I could never persuade you to stay, I have taken the liberty of having supplies put up for you," he said on a more serious note. Turning toward the door they'd entered, he indicated three large packs set off to one side. "I hope that will be sufficient for the three of you."

"You are much too gracious," Lurde blurted, suddenly overcome with guilt for feeling the way she had.

"Thank you," Hig calmly stated, taking Lurde's hand in his and giving it a squeeze.

"If there is ever anything we can do for you, all you have to do is let us know," Rod stated evenly. "Word of your exploits has reached us, and we are proud to be numbered among your friends."

Now Hig was speechless too. He felt fortunate when a young woman came bearing armloads of platters buried with different foods. Breaking the silence, Loté said, "Let's enjoy this meal together, and promise each other that we will do this again sometime in the future."

"I'll agree to that!" chimed in Leeta from the doorway as she entered.

The ease that Lurde was just beginning to feel vanished in a heartbeat. As Leeta approached the table, she added, "I'm sorry to be late, but Keazar is such a slave driver."

"Bah! Don't believe her. Her tardy behavior has nothing to do with her assignments," he vehemently, yet good-naturedly, protested.

Stopping and placing herself between Hig and Lurde, she exaggeratedly sighed and admitted that Keazar was telling the truth. "Yes, that is true; I wasn't delayed because of his over-zealous work habits. The truth of it is, I was delayed because I wanted to make something for the three of you to take with you on your journey." Taking her hands from behind her back, she held out a small leather pouch with something heavy in the bottom.

"These are rubber rocks," she said happily. "It's been such a long time since I had the right ingredients for them, but I'm pretty sure I got it right."

Hig's eyes lit up as he eagerly took the proffered pouch and opened it, reaching in and pulling out one of the inch-sized gray balls.

Seeing Lurde's incomprehension, he quickly explained their relevance. "If you're thirsty, all you have to do is pop one of these in your mouth, and you'll feel refreshed almost immediately. Then, after you find water, you return it to the pouch until you need it again. One of these can be used over and over."

Sensing that Lurde wasn't convinced, Rod added, "They really do work, believe me."

Taking his word for it, she turned to Leeta and said, "Thank you, for everything."

"You're more than welcome," Leeta answered, not missing the special meaning behind the words.

They ate heartily, and Gamy quickly fell back to sleep. He was growing swiftly and needed much rest. But soon, he will grow uncomfortable with such a passive role in life, and he will go in search of something more. He will press his boundaries and discover his limitations so that he can go beyond them.

Much will be the same for the others; from Rod and Loté to Hig and Lurde. Soon, they will grow restless, and again they will go in search of something more, something different. And in the difference they discover lies the key to contentment. But only for a while, and then they will find that what was once different is now the same and the need to go in search of something that is different will overcome them again.

Until that time comes, be patient, be content, and be ready for HORSPAW!

### Introduction to 'HORSPAW

There is an evil seed that lurks just barely concealed by the dirt beneath your feet, waiting, waiting for a salty bead of your sweat to spark the start of its life; a sick, degenerate life that will crowd out all that is good and true within the confines of your aura. Aside from a mild headache and a touch of nausea, you will be oblivious of the sickness that is climbing up your ankles, slowly penetrating your soul with uncaring malice.

You remain unconcerned when your nausea escalates into a loss of appetite and your vision blurs. Until you grow dizzy every time you move your head, you are unaware that you are running a fever. By degrees, it is eating you up from the inside, planting spores of discomfort still too small to make their presence known. It is slow but steady, steadily spreading through the soft, moist tissues of your very being.

It is in your blood, picking up steam, moving faster through your veins than it could through your marrow. Yet, it is deep within your bones, your being, eating, eating away at the part of you that makes you who you are; the part of you that guides your moral fiber, keeping you on the straight and narrow.

You were a nice being, once. Now you are edgy, your skin sallow, the flesh sinking and flaccid against your withering muscles. It is beyond eradication now. You have waited too long to take countermeasures. It will make itself known, soon, to both you and the rest of the world.

But you already know that it is within your soul, your fiber, your very being. You already know that it is too late to fight it. Now the rest of the world will know it too. When people see you, they will see the evil seed that has sprouted within your hallowed flesh, getting its toehold deeply implanted, sucking the nurturing juices of your kind heart.

They will avert their eyes from your gaze, sensing the sickness within your brain, unwilling to confront what you have become. And you, too, can't confront the obvious. You run from yourself, hiding and denying what you can no longer fight.

The rancid stench of baby-shit permeates the air surrounding your diseased and sickened body, trying desperately to get away from you, creating a vacuum around you. It drips unheeded down your legs, oozing into the ground you walk upon, seeding it, starting the cycle over, and over.

Within a short span of time there are many more just like you, walking the face of the earth. All of them resemble you, maggots eating your insides, dripping in slime from your nostrils. You pick them, you eat them, but you never taste them. They are fodder for the horrible sickness that has taken over your soul, your being. Nothing ever tasted so bland, and yet, so satisfying. The ooze from your decaying face is forced inward, ever closer to your wilted soul.

Others congregate, sharing the sickening discharge from their pores with each other. You fall in with them. At first, you forget that you are sick. Their slimy ooze has flavor, and it excites you. Within a short time, you hunger madly for the taste of others. It becomes a free-for-all. Furiously, rotting flesh is torn from your weakened bones, and a gray, foul smelling matter oozes from the wounds. You have no more blood. At least, not as you remember it. You have become evil by degrees, minutes, seconds. What was once innocent fun is now a boring prelude to the hunt for innocence. It has become your mission in life to convert, to destroy what is good, and to kill so that the sickness within you may live.

Although you are not aware of what you are, or what you have grown to be, you step proudly from the incubator, facing the host of your flesh, the donor of your molecular makeup.

Discover More by Will Decker:

DRIVEN

UNREQUITED LOVE

FIRE BABY

HYBRID KILLERS

The 'HEÄLF' Collection:

MORTALITY REVISITED

CLONE WARS

DAY OF NIGHT

REGENERATIONS

HORSPAW

The 'Mac" Collection:

THE WITNESS

TOXIC RAIN

BETRAYAL

RECORD KEEPER

DEATH IN THE DUNES

WIT-SEC FAIL

SIMPLY PERFECT BINDING 2ND Ed.

If you enjoyed this book, please take a moment to leave a review.

Authors starve or eat based on reviews. Thanking you from the pit of my stomach,

Will

