Northern Ones

Chapter 1 - Trial by fire

By Chris Gilman

The night is cold with an early winter storm. The wind and snow blowing out of the northern mountains blanketing the low valley and the small town sheltered there. A young human woman strolls through the streets, her small booted feet leaving tiny footprints in the few inches of fluffy snow covering the dirt roads of the settlement. Tamia pulls her heavy fur trimmed cloak tight about her shoulders and shudders at the chill that seeps through to her skin. Looking over the moonlit night she thinks of how beautiful it all looks right now. "I just wish the beauty didn't require it to be so cold," she softly said to the night around her. She watches her breath puff out into the chill air in a foggy cloud and lets a soft smile come to her lips.

As she approaches to the local tavern the sounds of some rather loud, and probably drunken, patrons singing an old drinking song in a language she doesn't understand carries across the chill air to her ears. The unfamiliarity of the language surprises her, having traveled far and wide she has learned many an odd language, but this one seems to elude her still, even after a month in this pleasant valley of northern men. Whenever she asks for its origins most of the locals only shake their heads and tell her, "Best not to know lass, safer that way."

As she enters the door to the common room, the heat from the roaring fire seems to burn her after the frigid cold of outside. A few of the regulars raise their mugs to her in salute and she gives them soft smiles and nods in return. The large bouncer leaning by the door smiles down at her with a fatherly affection as he shuts the door against the bitter cold wind, "Going to dance for this crowd again tonight Tamia?" He looks around the tavern and frowns slightly, "They seem rowdier than normal tonight, probably the storm coming. My weather sense tells me it's going to be a bad one."

She grins up at him, showing bright white teeth in her naturally tan face and nods, "They seem to enjoy it after all, and it helps keep me fed and sheltered." She gives him a wink, "Besides, if they get too rowdy that's what you're here for isn't it?"

He gives a good natured guffaw and nods, "That they do lass, never seen 'em calm down as much as they will for you. Even the drunkest of them wouldn't do anything to upset you and risk losing their right to view your performances or upsetting the other patrons."

She thinks she sees something through the window behind him and tilts her head to the side curiously, "What's that Heror?"

He turns to look out the window, but whatever caught her attention is gone already. He looks back to her and his face shows a worried frown, "What did you see lass?"

She shakes her head, her long red hair swaying behind her, "I don't know, it was... someone I think, a dark figure, running from one shadow to the next." She shrugs and smiles up at him, "I'm probably mistaken. Who would be out doing mischief on a night like this?"

He scratches at his beard and looks thoughtful, "You never know lass." Picking up his weapon belt and strapping it on he nods towards the stage to one side of the fireplace, "You'd best go ahead and get ready for your performance lass, I need to talk to Thoman."

As he watches over her, the young woman pulls back her heavy cloak to reveal her feminine body and light silken clothing, so strange in these parts of rough weather and rougher people. He shakes his head before walking over to the bar and waiting for the bartender to be free for a moment. Thoman walks over wiping his hands on a towel and smiling good naturedly, "What can I do for ya Heror, another drink already?"

The large burly man shakes his head, "Got a question for ya boss. What're relations with the Northern Ones like these days?"

The fat proprietor of the Frozen River Tavern looks at him in surprise and rubs his chin, "Haven't heard anything since the agreement was made almost ten years ago. They stay in their mountains and high plateaus, while we stay in the valleys and passes. They swore a blood oath to leave us alone as long as they were left alone and they've honored it. I think there was a trader here two years ago, but nothing recently. Why?"

He tosses his head towards the stage, "The lass said she thought she saw someone stalking around outside. Who else would be doing that with a winter storm blowing in tonight? Could they be after something?"

The bartender goes pale, "Let's hope they aren't on the war path again. You never know if a new tribal leader is going to honor old agreements. But..."

Heror nods, "But for the most part I believe they wouldn't do it unless provoked. Blood oaths are stronger than any religious or civil law to them. That's why the oath was done that way." He looks outside at the falling snow and frowns to himself, "Too bad we're cut off from the rest of the world with winter right now. Even if there was news from another town we'd never receive it."

Thoman nods, "Wake up a few more of your boys and tell them to be ready and to keep watch on what's going on outside." He looks past his head bouncer and out the window, "The storm has started again, at least they won't be likely to strike during a great northern storm."

"And if they do? Maybe even using it as cover?" Heror asks with a raised eyebrow.

The bartender grips a small holy symbol he keeps in his pocket, "Then may the gods protect us. Because I'm sorry my old friend, but you and me aren't going to be enough to protect ourselves, let alone anyone else around here."

* * *

The shadowed figure, his mottled gray, white, and black fur cloak helping him blend into the snowy night slinks through the outskirts of the town. His senses tell him everything about the area around him as he scouts the streets and alleys. Hearing a snow owl's cry from the woods outside town he turns and hurries out of the cluster of buildings that makes up the settlement. With quick steps that seem to leave little trace of his passing he comes up to a group of armored figures mounted a few hundred yards outside the settlement, hidden from the townsfolk by the trees that grow thick and plentiful in these areas.

"War Chief," the figure says in a gruff voice as he holds up a large armored hand.

The largest of those mounted before him quietly nods and holds up a hand to signal the warrior to relax, "Calm down lad and catch your breath."

The cloaked form bows briefly and takes a deep breath before he continues, "The town's men are mostly in the tavern. Many of their women and children are unprotected in their homes. A few of the men folk are with their females in their homes, but almost none of those I saw were armed. A few belt knives and maybe a couple of bows and crossbows in the houses at most. But I couldn't be certain at the tavern. There were too many for me to get a good look inside without being seen."

The large armored figure nods, his helmet and cloak hiding his features like the others. When he speaks his voice is young, with an odd purring to it, yet it carries the tone of a seasoned commander, "We'll raid the tavern then. The outrage must be repaid." He holds up a thick armored finger, "But, I want no unnecessary killing." He turns to the figure on his right, "I know many of the young warriors have never been on a raid, but that's what this is, not a war. We will have spoils a-plenty in reparation. Kill only if there is no other choice, and have faith that our armors are superior to anything their craftsmen can cobble together."

The robed and hooded figure to his left holds out a far more delicate gloved hand and speaks with a soft feminine voice, "These humans may not understand the difference my War Chief. Many down there will only think that we attacked without provocation." The feminine voice lowers to a whisper, "Some may fight as fiercely as a mother defending her children, it has been seen, even among the humans."

He points to a bundled figure tied across a horse following them, "We have our proof. And these people will know their rulers broke the agreement. Father told me of these people, they will be upset, but not at us. They will demand to know why their leaders sent a war troupe into our lands to wipe us out. Why did they destroy the peace of the last decade? Father told me their leader was an honorable man who knows our customs."

The feminine form nods her head, the hood of her cloak bobbing, "Let's hope so my grandson. We want revenge and to give them a lesson, not another war."

A heavily armored figure on the leader's other side growls softly, "Then they shouldn't have started a war."

The leader snaps his head around and points to the speaker, "I said raid, we are not the barbarians they call us. We are not animals!" He turns back towards the village and lowers his voice, "We will give them the display of power that the council agreed as the proper act. If you can't follow my orders you can wait here with the pack animals."

The warrior who spoke lowers his head in submission, "I am sorry War Chief, my temper was up but I will of course follow your orders."

The large figure nods his head and pulls a massive battleaxe from his saddle and nods towards the town as his scout heads towards his own mount. "Murri, tell the warriors, we strike in ten minutes."

An armored female warrior turns and kicks her massive horse back into the forest to spread the orders without so much as a nod.

* * *

Tamia slips her filmy silks on and adjusts them to reveal plenty of skin, yet continue to keep her modesty. She clips a small anklet with tiny silver bells on it to her right leg and a matching bracelet to her right arm. She smiles as she hears the minstrels starting some music and she can hear the noise of many voices dying off. She slips a light silk cloak over her shoulders to cover her till she starts her performance and steps out of the dressing room, and onto the stage, to the sound of much applause.

She tilts her head towards the crowd with a soft smile and the musicians strum their music silent only to ease into the dance music she prefers to perform to. As she starts to feel the music guiding her, she lets her body sway to the tune that seems to flow around her. Without a visible movement to release it, the cloak slips from her shoulders and off to one side where it settles out of her way without danger of entangling her feet. With a spin her bracelet and anklet start to jingle to the music, her body guiding them to the beat of the music. The song starts off slow and her movements follow that slow pace, slow and fluid movements that seem to mimic a small and gentle brook. The jingling of the tiny bells on her limbs are like the soft sound of the water flowing through eddies and over rocks. But as the musicians starts to pick up the tempo and she starts to swirl and gyrate faster, her movements still fluid, but now fast and wild as a raging river. The sound of the bells growing with her faster movements and almost seems to speak of the raging waters cascading over cliffs and through rapids.

The crowd watches her in awe and joy. Many of the faces smiling, a few leering at the view of her feminine form and soft, smooth, skin. Smooth silk fabrics whip around her and she uses her body to guide the movements of the loose fabric, making it dance like an extension of her body. But mostly they watch her contently, just enjoying the beauty of her performance and the magic from the combination of movement and sound.

Suddenly a horn blows outside the tavern, its long and low tone disrupts the flow of the music. The minstrels come to an abrupt halt and all faces in the tavern look around in shock as Tamia comes to a rough halt as the magical trance of her dance is broken. She looks around at the people in the common room; almost all of them are looking about like frightened lambs. She sees Heror draw his sword and two of his fellow bouncers draw their smaller daggers as they turn to face the door. Then the ground starts to rumble under her as she ducks back into her dressing room. Grabbing a small leather wrapped bundle she starts unwrapping what's inside. She knows that sound and feeling all too well, the rumble of war-horses charging to battle, the town is under attack! But, who could be attacking in the middle of winter when the passes are blocked by thick snow drifts?

She steps back into the tavern just as the rumble reaches its peak, an elegant and sleek bow in her hands and a quiver of arrows over her shoulder. There is an inhuman roar as several figures crash through the door and windows of the room. One, a huge masculine figure in heavy plate armor, splinters the door with a massive battle axe and roars an inhuman battle cry as he wades into the chaos of the tavern's common room, his armored fist punching a patron out of his way as the stunned man tries to stop him.

One of the bouncers who had drawn daggers in preparation of this attack faints as another of the large warriors reaches out and bends the pitifully small dagger into a horseshoe shape. The other young man is pinned against the wall by what can only be a female warrior, her adorned breast plate having to make room for her massive bosom, yet she's still larger than any of the villagers in the room.

The one that came through the door is holding Heror up by his neck at arm's length, the human's sword swatting against the giant's armor with less care then if it was a fly as the thick armored plates easily shrug off the blows. Quickly drawing an arrow she takes aim at the neck of that warrior and lets it fly with a perfect shot towards the faint view of white hair through a thin gap in the armor. She is drawing another arrow as the warrior blocks her arrow almost casually with the flat of his massive axe. The armored head slowly turns towards her and she feels her blood run colder then the snow outside as two green eyes fix their gaze on her. She catches a glimpse of fur through the few gaps that aren't armored by thick chainmail and heavy plates. 'How can one so heavily armored and bulked by furs move so fast?' she asks herself in puzzlement as she lets another arrow loose at the massive warrior. Again he deflects the arrow and she can hear Heror screaming as he looks at her over his shoulder, "Run Tamia!!! RUN!!!"

The massive warrior tosses the man to a female warrior like a child would toss a light ball. The warrior turns to grab something from his belt and in turning gives her a glimpse of something odd, 'What warrior is going to pin a stupid tail to their armor.' Then, as she turns to make a dash for her dressing room, she sees that white tail with a white tuff on the end move of its own accord. 'It's not human!' her mind screams to herself.

She feels something entangle her ankles and calves and falls flat to her face as a bola wraps her in its embrace. Her mind cries out in terror, 'I'm dead! That beast is going to probably eat me!' She looks up to see the large armored figure walking towards her, his footsteps shaking the floor and cowering men and women clear out of his way as he approaches her. She lets loose a loud shriek of terror as she feels something hit her on the back of the head and blackness envelopes her.

* * *

The large armored figure glares at the warrior who had just knocked the girl unconscious and growls, "She's mine!"

The young warrior seems ready to argue till he realizes who he's confronting and bows slightly in submission as he backs away from him, "Yes, War Chief."

He looks around the tavern to see all the fighting has ceased and nods to those of his warriors watching him. "Get the others all in here. I want everyone in this settlement accounted for now!"

Several of his warriors hurry to comply with his orders. Others start to marshal the prisoners to the center of the room. With a rough sigh he reaches up a massive hand and pulls his helmet off. He shakes his head to fluff out a thick leonine mane of white hair and fluff out the fur on his head and neck with a quick stroke of his hand. His face now visible, the cowering people grow deathly quiet. His small round leonine ears flick as he hears a few soft voices whispering, "Northern Ones..."

His green eyes cast their gaze around the room before he speaks in basic, his voice carrying in the silence, "Where is your leader?!"

Several of those gathered in the room cast their gaze towards Thoman who is holding his arm gently from where a warrior had disarmed him of his mace and broken the limb in the process. "That would be me," he glares back at the massive feline warrior, anger clear in the old warrior's features.

The War Chief motions for him to step forward and reluctantly he does so as the lion-man sits himself in a chair that creaks under his bulk. "Do you know who I am?"

Thoman nods slightly, "I believe I do, you'd be Hargan's son, by his wife Maritha. Though I can't remember your name, we met so long ago."

The male lion-man nods and gives a toothy grin that causes a woman in the crowd to faint at the sight of all those sharp teeth. "You have a good memory for my sire and his mate, Captain Thoman Highguard, formerly of the elite Highguard Rangers. I am their son, Metaro, and now I lead the war and raiding parties of my tribe as War Leader."

The man stands slightly more erect at mention of his old military rank and unit, "Why do you attack, we have a peace that has lasted for many years."

With a growl the warrior slams his axe into the floor, its massive blade sinking halfway into the wooden floor and splitting the boards as he roars back in anger, his ears flattening and his fangs bared, "Because your rulers broke that blood bound agreement!" He waves an armored hand and a warrior brings a hooded and bound man forward still wearing the tabard of the Lord's elite mountain troops. Pointing a massive armored finger at the man he continues, "This and forty-nine more of his fellows attacked one of our own villages." He lowers his hand and looks back to the bartender and sometimes mayor of this small town, "You said you remember my parents?"

Thoman nods, his mind telling him where this seems to be going, and fearing he's right.

The lion-man closes his eyes with a sigh of regret, "Remember them well, and honor their names, because they were two of the few killed by this rabble."

The bartender and several of the others in the tavern look at the soldier in shock. "Why?!" he demands of the prisoner.

"The lord wanted to... to show these animals that they are nothing," he glares at the lion-man sitting in front of him with hate in his eyes. "Long as they live, they are a threat to us." He spits at the warrior and one of the others moves to club him but the big warrior holds up his hand to halt him. "They claimed they wouldn't attack us, blood honor and crap like that. But I don't trust any of them. They're nothing but savages."

Looking at Thoman he glares with a fire born of revenge flashing in his eyes, "Now you know why we are here. Those these men killed weren't even armed. He killed my sire while he was un-armed. He died defending my mother who was naked in their bed." He snarls at the bound soldier, the looks of anger and disgust clear to all, "Then, not able to kill any of the armed opponents they fought, they killed three cubs hardly old enough to be off their mother's teats." Thoman watches the warrior try to bring himself back under control before he continues, "Now give me one reason why I don't just kill everyone here in retaliation?" He looks at the prisoner, "Maybe we should become the creatures of your nightmares, maybe roast you alive and let others of you watch as we start to eat?"

The soldier trying to look brave and defiant pales in horror at the threat and his pants develop a dark wet spot, even as he tries to act brave, "I don't fear you animal!"

"You should fear your own Lord when I send you back to him, he will not be pleased with your results I think, and I'm sure he can do worse to you then we can." The lion lunges to his feet and grabs the bound prisoner by the front of his tabard and growls, "At least we don't torture for pleasure or kill the helpless." With a dismissive flick of his hand the soldier falls on his rear and Metaro turns his attention back to Thoman. "As for your town, I hold no ill will against you personally, this is just a means of showing your Lords that if they try this again, we will not be so lenient. Any more attacks against my people will mean war and I will lead our troops to wipe you from our lands entirely."

He looks around at his warriors and growls a few words in their native language, "Each warrior is to claim a prize, the people of the town can either give suitable ransoms or the prize goes with the warrior." There is a roaring cheer as the warriors start to pick their prizes from the crowd of people filling the large common room of the tavern.

Turning back to the fat barman he gives a serious gaze, "I just told my warriors to each pick one prize. Either your people will give a ransom for the return of that person, or that warrior owns them. In a minute I will let your people gather the ransoms to try and convince my people to free their loved ones." He wrenches his axe free of the floor and checks the razor edge, "We haven't killed anyone yet, but if anyone resists, they will die, and so will four more for each one who forces us to kill them." He glares back at the human still standing there, "Tell them!"

Thoman looks at the male before him and gives a slight bow of his head, "I am sorry for the acts of our Lords, but I wish you wouldn't take it out on us. We are only a small community honored warrior; we are guilty of nothing against your people."

"Were the three babes killed by this man and his fellows any guiltier?" Metaro asks with a dower look as he flicks his eyes to the bartender.

Thoman bows his head in understanding, "I will tell them." With a wave of his hand the warrior standing guard behind the human takes him back to the large crowd pressed into the too cramped room.

* * *

Heror and the others listen to Thoman as he explains the situation and there are a few calls to fight back but they are quickly shushed. The large bouncer hangs his head and sighs, "So we did do it..."

"What do you mean?" whispers one of the men crowded against him.

"Humans, we broke the blood pact, they will be suspicious of us evermore. The Lords have stuck a stick into a nest of hornets, and we're the ones who get stung."

Another man nudges him, "You could lead us to fight them, we won't let them take our people away to be slaves, or worse..."

Thoman punches the man with his good arm, "Didn't you see what they just did. These aren't the prissy Elves in their forests, or the sullen Dwarves in their mines, these are Northern Ones. The ones who legend says were created by Garthin, the great god of war and heroes. There are only twenty of them and they made easy work of over one-hundred people, even Heror here was subdued and he's a better fighter then even I was back in my prime. I have been to one of their villages, and they easily have a thousand people in it, and they have several villages. Armies of thousands have fled at the charge of only a hundred of their warhorse mounted warriors."

One of the women clutching her young child to her breast starts to cry as she buries her face in her husband's shoulder and others try to comfort each other. "Nothing we can do?" asks another woman.

Thoman nods, "Yes there is, hope we have enough to ransom back our people."

They all fall silent as a large armored female approaches the group of prisoners and points a large mailed finger at Heror and growls a few words in her native tongue. "What does she want?" asks Heror.

The woman behind him looks pale with realization, "I think she's saying you're her prize."

Heror looks frantic as the warrior grips his arm in her large hand and drags him away. Thoman watches the large female lead his friend away and grimaces, "Soon as they let us go to our houses to get enough ransom, we better hurry. I don't think they'll wait here forever."

* * *

Metaro watches as one by one the town's people pay the ransoms for their loved ones. One warrior protests having to accept any ransom but when his War Chief nods that they are offering an extremely fair price he reluctantly releases the young woman he holds who immediately falls into her parents' arms, crying in relief. Thoman cautiously approaches Metaro and bows, "Who is your prize War Chief Metaro Whitemane? We have pooled our resources to free the one you claim for your generosity in keeping your people under control. We offer you more than any other."

The white lion-man shakes his head, "I claim the female who is not from your town. I claim the right of denial because she attacked me." He looks over at the still unconscious form of Tamia who is lying in a corner with an elderly female lion looking after her. "I unfortunately have to give the same right to Murri, who claimed your friend Heror." He looks up at the saddened expression on the man's face, "I can guarantee you they will be well taken care of, and even prizes have rights in our villages. Long as they don't harm one of my people they are safer than any of my own people." He looks down at a list in his hand and taps it, "There are a few families here who couldn't pay a decent ransom, help them get their people back." He studies the woman he's claimed and rubs his chin in thought, "We'll be leaving here in ten minutes, so make it fast."

Ten minutes later the raiding party is riding away with three "prizes" tied to saddles and bags of loot strapped to all of the horses. As his party rides off into the woods Metaro looks down at the group of town's folk and speaks softly to Thoman, "Keep your people here. If any follow us, they are forfeit. You were there when the treaty was signed in blood; you know our rights in this."

The overweight man stands there and nods, "I understand. Thank you for showing mercy; you truly are your sire's son."

Giving him a nod the large lion turns his horse away from the town and kicks it into a gallop.

A few of the town's people come up and whisper amongst themselves as they watch the warriors melt into the white forest. "How are we going to free them Thoman?" asks one man.

But Thoman shakes his head slowly, "We're not..."

"But we can't let that creature get away with that pretty young dancer girl can we? The gods know what that beast will do with..." the man is cut off by a smack across his face.

Thoman lowers his good hand from striking the man, "He is more honorable than our own people it would seem. Our Lords brought this down on our heads, and I want revenge on them." He looks to where the captive soldier is sitting, his hands still in shackles. "And by the gods I will have answers."

* * *

Heror is tied astride a horse following the one that carries the female warrior who claimed him. He should have suspected that there would be exceptions to the ransoms. 'I guess they do have the right,' he tells himself. He had tried to fight them, and they had soundly defeated him. The other bouncer, Merike, who had been claimed as a "prize", also by a female, was riding a mount near his as the two females talked quietly to each other in their native tongue. It sounds like a mixture of purring vowels and growled consonants that he can only catch a few words of.

The other man whispers softly, "How do you think we're going to escape?"

Heror gives him a steely look, "We're not."

Merike looks at him in surprise and disgust, "You've given in to them already have you?"

The large man sighs, "Merike, I know you're new to the area, but these people have a few rules for prizes. And the two that will get you killed almost immediately are attacking one of them and running away." He looks around the woods and remarks more to himself then to his companion, "Besides, there are worse things in these woods than being with them."

Merike scowls at him, "You sound like they've already beaten all the will out of you."

Heror gives a little shake of his head, "They've already beaten us both, or don't you remember how that one big female pinned you against the wall while your hands could only barely hold onto her arm. We're prisoners, and that's not likely to change anytime soon. If we're lucky, in time we could earn our freedom."

"What do you..." he is cut off as the female leading his horse kicks her horse into a gallop and he has to hold on tightly to stay steady in the saddle made for someone bigger than him.

Heror watches his fellow prisoner being lead off, further up the group of riders from him. He sighs, shakes his head sadly, and mutters, "I hope that lad learns."

He looks up and sees the large armored female casting a glance back at him, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. He gulps reflexively at that almost predatory gaze, earning a grin from her.

Metaro watches the two warriors separate their prizes and smiles. 'They always forget how sensitive our ears are,' he thinks to himself.

He looks down at the human woman cradled in front of him. She is wrapped in his own heavy fur cloak and warmer than him as the winds seep into his armor and the cold bites at him. She is still unconscious, her head having taken a heavy blow from Murri. But his grandmother had reassured him that she will recover soon and is healthy. She had given the girl some medicine to keep her asleep till they reached their night camp.

"Are you sure you know what you're doing?" a soft voice asks from his right.

He turns to look at the cloaked and robed figure of his grandmother on her own slightly smaller mount. "I am Wise Mother, she could be the one."

"But she is a human," she warns him softly.

"You should know better than most that means little," He looks down at the girl again, "But there is something else in her, I can feel it. And it calls to me."

She sighs softly, her breath released in a brief cloud, "I know you feel the loss of your sire and mother, child. But there are things that must be done soon. Are you sure you have time for one such as her?"

"I'll make the time, and if I succeed there will be more than enough time," he says surly.

She reaches up and rests a small gloved hand on his armored arm, "I know you'll do what's right. Just be sure of what's right lad."

* * *

Several hours later as the sky glows red, the sun having already ducked behind the mountains, the raiders came to a halt in a small clearing. Without a spoken word the whole group comes to a halt and begins dismounting their horses. Those with "prizes" help them down, Metaro sliding off his own mount without letting the woman he holds go.

He scuffs a space clear of snow and twigs at the foot of a nearby tree and gently sets her down, still wrapped in the massive cloak, before he turns back to his horse and pulls his saddle and bags from the large mount. One of the warriors assigned to tend the horses comes up and takes the reins from him. With the saddlebags over his shoulder, and the saddle in his hands, he turns back to where he had set the girl down only to see his grandmother kneeling there and examining her. "How is she?" he asks as he sets his things down next to them.

The smaller lioness looks up at him briefly, "Recovering. The sleeping drought should be wearing off soon. Have you thought of how you will handle her when she wakes?"

He shrugs his armored shoulders, "As the situation arises, I'll just play it by ear." He squats down next to them and looks at the girl's sleeping face. "Do you think she'll be hungry?"

The older female nods, "Yes, side effect of the potion. So have something nearby and ready for her."

He nods as he pulls a large sleeping roll from his bags and starts to spread it out. "Do you need help setting up your bedroll?"

She swats him lightly on the arm, "I may be older then you young male, but I am not that old. If I can ride out to raid with you warriors I can take care of myself."

He chuckles softly, his breath fogging the air as she gets up and leaves him. Picking up the girl still wrapped in his cloak, he slips her between the heavy furs of the cold weather bedding before he looks around at the rest of his group. The youngest member of the party, a male warrior named Gora, was settling himself at the foot of a tree facing back the way they had come.

Metaro comes up and rests a hand on the young warrior's shoulder before he hunkers down beside him, "You have first watch?"

Gora nods silently, his great-bow held across his lap, an arrow already in place. Metaro gives him a gentle pat on his shoulder and nods, "I don't think they're dumb enough to follow us, but we'll see. Their leader, the man Thoman, knew enough about us to know that it would be a bad idea. That doesn't mean there weren't a few hot-heads in the town though." The younger warrior nods without diverting his attention and Metaro pats him on the back.

Getting up he walks among his warriors, talking briefly here and there with each. Checking the other two prisoners he nods in approval of their ropes the warriors looped to their ankles to keep them from easily running away while they are still so close to their human town. Finally he returns to his own chosen tree and easing himself to the ground is sitting with his back against the trunk before he notices the green eyes looking out of the folds of the cloak at him in fear.

His lips turn up in a slight smile and speaks in clear basic, "Hello Tamia, are you hungry?" Her eyes widen in surprise and seeing her reaction he nods, "Yes, I know your name and can speak basic. Not all of us can, but the son of a chieftain learns much." He tilts his head at her silence, "You do understand me don't you?"

The slightest of nods is her only response. He decides to try another approach and reaches into one of his saddlebags and takes out a wrapped package of meat jerky. Pulling a strip from the package he takes a bite and swallows it to prove it is safe to eat before he offers it to her. "Here, eat. You must be hungry."

He watches her slowly slip a hand out of the thick furs to take a piece of the dried meat and bring it back to silently nibble on it. He smiles down at her again being sure to keep his fangs hidden before he leans against the tree again and closes his eyes, letting his body rest.

His right ear flicks as he hears a quiet voice, "What are you?"

He opens an eye and looks down at her with a half smile, "Your people call us Northern Ones, we call ourselves the Higier. Some call us freaks, half-man half-lion, but we are our own people, not some conglomerate mix of two others." He sighs softly and closes his eye again, "For now, you may call me Master. If you earn the right to, you can learn more at a later time."

Her eyes flash in anger at his mention of being her "Master". "I am no slave..." she says with viciousness in her voice.

Metaro chuckles deep in his chest as he looks back down at her with both eyes, "No, you're not a slave, a prize my little one. If you hadn't of attacked me in our raid, you might have been able to stay with the other town's folk, but by our laws you were not able to be ransomed back once claimed."

She looks puzzled and then studying the armor closer in the dimming light of dusk realizes he is the one she had shot at. He was the one who had easily deflected her shots with the flat of his axe. "You..."

He chuckles again and leans his head back against the tree, "Yes me, now eat and get some rest girl, we have a hard ride ahead of us tomorrow and I'd rather not have to carry you the whole way again." As he shuts his eyes he says in a quiet voice so only she can hear, "Don't try to escape in the night, the guards would easily see you and might harm you. Besides, in those silk garments you are unlikely to last long in these cold mountains."

She doesn't say anything, just watches him and the few others she can see from where she is huddled in the furs. She can tell it's far too cold for her to try and escape without these furs to keep her warm. Her eyes dart back up to the large armored figure sitting next to her. 'You win this fight, but there's always another,' she thinks to herself as she chews at the oddly tender jerky.

Sometime later she closes her eyes and lets her mind drift into the sleep that her body still desires.

Metaro opens one eye to smile down at her again as his ears pick up the sound of her breath dropping into the rhythm of peaceful sleep. "Sleep well little one," he whispers too quietly for anyone to hear.

* * *

As dawn breaks noises wake Tamia suddenly, the weight of the furs around her bringing her instantly awake with their strangeness. Her eyes dart quickly around before they focus on the large lion-man sitting next to her starting to stretch as he wakes. His mouth opening wide in a yawn, sharp fangs exposed to glisten in the first rays of sun. The view of her captor thus makes her shrink backwards into the comparative safety of the furs around her, trying to hide from that frightening visage.

The large male turns to face her, those shocking green eyes finding her easily in the furs. "Did you sleep well little one?" She says nothing but stares defiantly at him. He shakes his head wearily, "Come now little one, I'm sure you can speak. You certainly did last night."

A smaller cloaked form comes up on the other side of Metaro and his grandmother's soft voice speaks in basic. "Go take care of your needs young cub; I'll help your young prize here."

The large warrior gets up and bows his head to his grandmother who then kneels down next to Tamia, "I know you're a little smaller than me, but I brought you some of my spare clothes to help you today." She holds out a bundle and sets it on the furs next to the young girl. "Once you change I'll take you somewhere away from these males to do your business."

She timidly reaches a hand out for the bundle and draws it back into the furs with her. "Can you help me escape?"

The lioness shakes her head gently, "Tamia, you are safer here then you would be in your own father's house. As long as you attack no one and don't try to escape no one will raise a hand to you."

She rolls her eyes in disbelief, "Even my 'Master'?" she asks with a sneer.

The lioness shocks her by nodding, "Especially him. You are no mere slave to be beaten. You were captured in battle as a prize. To him you are worth more than all the gold of the village."

She looks at her without understanding, "So I'm a thing to be sold or traded."

"Can one sell or trade their family?" the older female asks quietly.

Her face registers disbelief, "Family?"

The older female nods, "It is our way. You may feel like a slave, but prizes have a chance to earn the respect of those over them and to become a free member of the family."

"And if I earned this respect? I could just leave as a free woman?" she asks in disbelief.

The older female nods as she helps the young woman to her feet, the great warrior's cloak still wrapped around her for warmth. "I can't believe that, you're trying to trick me..."

The older female sighs softly and shakes her head, "Then you only trick yourself." She motions for the young girl to follow her, "Come, I'm sure you're ready to burst."

* * *

Metaro watches them go into the woods and out of sight before he turns back to Murri and nods, "We will ride hard today and with luck we will reach the nearest boarder outpost shortly after nightfall. There we can rest the horses and ourselves before we begin the three day ride home from there."

The large female nods her head, "As you order War Chief."

He dismisses her with a hearty clap on the shoulder and turns to find one of the horse tenders bringing his mount to him. Taking the reins he tenderly pats the horse's thick neck and rests his forehead against the great beast's own. "Hello my friend, are you ready for a hard ride today?"

The war-horse stamps a fore-hoof in agreement and he chuckles softly, "Then come, let's get you ready for today's travel."

Leading his mount to the tree he had slept under he gathers his tack and with well practiced movements has it on the horse and is tightening down the last of the straps before Tamia and his grandmother return from their business in the woods.

"Here she is young cub, clothed and ready for a long day's ride."

He looks her up and down noticing that she still huddles in his massive cloak but gives a nod of resignation that he'll be a bit chilly before they get home. "We'll be heading out in a few minutes. I've already had your horse saddled and your bags seen to."

She smiles up to him as she reaches a hand up to cup his cheek, "What a thoughtful grandson." She turns to look at the smaller girl and gives her a soft smile. "See, he can be trained," and with a soft laugh she heads for her own mount.

He holds out a hand to the woman but she backs away uncertainly, "I won't harm you girl, I just want to help you up onto Blizzard here," he motions towards the snow white war-horse.

She looks at him with a heated glare, "I can do it myself."

He shrugs and steps back to comfort his mount as she steps up and tries to pull herself up the large horse's side. She struggles, and if she hadn't been weighed down by his cloak, she might have been able to pull herself up, but as it was he gives her a gentle shove with one hand on her rear and easily lifts her into position. She glares at him for his help and continues to do so as he pulls himself up the massive horse's side to settle himself behind her.

His eyes cast their gaze around the small group of warriors and he nods before growling an order in their native tongue and they form up and move out. As the troupe of warriors form up Tamia catches a glance of Heror and Merike, hands tied to the horses they ride. She tries to catch their eyes but they both look down cast and don't raise their heads to notice her.

The large warrior behind her grunts softly, knowing what she had been trying to do, "Yes, you know them. They were also claimed and since they had fought back they were ineligible to be traded for ransom like you. Do not fear for them, they were claimed by good warriors who won't harm them as long as they do no harm themselves."

Finally he knees his horse into line and nods to his grandmother who pulls her own horse behind and to one side of his own. With a rough growling sound they all knee their horses into a gallop, the sure footed war-mounts easily avoiding anything they might stumble on.

Tamia gives a gasp of surprise and clutches at the front of the saddle with both hands as the beast between her legs surges forward to match the others. The large warrior's heavy arm wraps around her to hold her steady while his other hand casually holds the reins in a relaxed grip. The trees seem to fly by at an inhuman speed as they ride on, the wind whipping at her hair within the cloak and she turns her head to shelter her face from the cold. She finds herself sheltering her face in the crook of the warrior's arm and almost turns away, not wanting to claim any shelter or help from him. But on second thought she decides using him to shelter her isn't the same as accepting his help and pulls his cloak tightly around her.

Metaro notices her gasp of surprise at their speed and how she turns her face into the crook of his arm to protect herself from the cold wind of their ride. His eyes stay on the trail ahead, trusting his mount to know the path but wanting to keep his eyes on the woods around them and the dangerous creatures that can lurk there.

All the warriors know they travel through a dangerous no-man's land where even their mightiest warriors are at risk from the dangers of the dark woods around them.

Sometime during the ride Tamia drifts off to sleep, the rocking motion of the horse under her rocking her to peaceful sleep. Only the sleep isn't peaceful, nightmares come to her. Nightmares of vicious cat people torturing her and the other prisoners. Seeing Heror ripped limb from limb, and Merike gutted like a beast and roasting over a fire. Then she could see the slobbering lion-men coming to her, to rape her and violate her repeatedly. But the sudden stop of the horse under her brings her awake before they can do such a thing in her nightmare. She looks around at the warriors around her and notices them all drawing weapons in alarm as the horses start to stamp and mill about alert to some danger she can't identify yet.

The large warrior behind her motions for his grandmother to come up next to him and he lifts the smaller girl to her horse as he growls something quietly to her in their own language. The older lioness nods her head once and moves to the center of the circle of warriors with the two horses carrying the other two humans and the five pack animals loaded with loot from the raid.

Heror looks around alert for the danger as Merike looks around in panic before he looks to Heror with wide and panicked eyes, "What's wrong?"

Heror mumbles only one word, "Trouble..."

As he says that a howl comes from the woods around them and all the warriors bare their fangs letting loose their own growls of challenge. Merike looks around in surprise, "Wolves? What's to fear from wolves?"

Heror shakes his head as his face goes pale, "Dire wolves lad, dire wolves..."

The first attack comes suddenly and one of the archers' bows twang loudly in the crisp air as it lets a yard long shaft loose at a form that leaps at the circle of warriors. With a cut off cry the massive wolf falls to the ground. Tamia could see it twitch with the feathers of the arrow sticking out of the gapping mouth. It was easily three times the size of any wolf she'd ever heard about and looked deadlier than a pack of wolves all by itself.

The older female holding her on her horse chants a short cord of words that can only be heard then forgotten as she pulls a small pinch of dust from her pouch. With the dust in the gloved palm of her hand she blows it around them and suddenly outlined forms appear in the forest surrounding them.

Metaro grunted as he counts the purple outlined forms. "I count four more," he says softly in his native tongue.

Murri nods from across the group, "Shall we move out War Chief?"

He shakes his head, "No, that's what they want. If we move out, we're isolated and they can surround one of us. There are probably more of them out there waiting for just such a chance. Remember, these are no normal wolves my friend."

Slowly the forms in the trees come closer but keep moving fast enough to stop anyone getting another clean shot at them and staying far enough out that melee weapons are useless. Merike taunts the warriors around him, "What's wrong, afraid of some little dogs ya big pussies?"

Heror kicks the younger man in the shin, "Shut up fool, they're trying to keep you alive."

Merike gives him a stubborn look, "Probably so they can do something worse to us later."

Tamia pays no attention to the two men as she watches the warriors around them. "Shut up both of you," she calls out quietly. "Listen!"

They listen and they can hear the rumbling wolf growls around them growing more numerous and she watches in horror as the pack of dire wolves grows from four to more than a dozen. "Oh gods..."

Metaro notices the gathering of more wolves and lets a grimace come over his features. "Look alive my warriors, let the gods watch us today and know that we are the true warriors of the north." He holds his battleaxe over his head and lets out an ear splitting roar. The roar is picked up by the rest of his warriors, male and female alike, to a deafening crescendo.

The wolf pack charges at the challenge.

The first to come too close receives a battle axe to its skull, right between the eyes and falls pulling the massive weapon from Metaro's grasp. He curses loudly and reaches for a hand-axe strapped to his belt and throws it at another wolf who has taken one of his warriors from his mount with a cry of pain. The axe buries itself into the massive black beast with a meaty thunk and a startled yelp from the creature.

One of the wolves tries the cautious approach and slowly tries to sneak in close to Murri on her own mount. Metaro watches her catch sight of the creature and with a quick movement of her legs guides her mount to rear up and bring its massive hooves down onto the surprised wolf. After a few stamps only a wet puddle of blood and fur indicates there was ever a living thing there.

Almost as quickly as they charged they are gone, seven bloody and broken wolf bodies to indicate they had ever been there. The warriors sit astride their mounts breathing hard. The two who had been knocked from their horses slowly stand with the aid of a nearby hand and join the others in surveying the area around them. Their ears pick out the quiet sound of retreating beasts in the woods and looking around at each other give silent nods of approval and congratulations.

Heror, Merike, and Tamia look at the crushed and chopped bodies of the beasts around the circle. "Gods above..." whispers Merike, with Heror nodding his own sentiment.

Metaro starts to growl quick and quiet orders to his people and they start to clear away the dead bodies from the trail and retrieve weapons from the corpses or where they had been dropped during the melee. He looks over at the humans and notices the looks of shock on all their features. 'Maybe this will make them realize they're safer with us then they would be out there on their own if they escape,' he thinks to himself. Turning from them he dismounts to retrieve his own axes. Pulling them from the corpses he takes a dirty piece of cloth and wipes the blood and gore from the blades before he returns the hand-axe to his belt and the massive battle-axe to its scabbard on his saddle.

In ten minutes the party of seasoned warriors is back on their horses and once again quickly making their way along the trail. Metaro takes Tamia back onto his horse to free up his grandmother's small, lighter horse.

As night starts to fall they reach a gate in a fifteen foot tall stone wall, a roared challenge is answered by the lead rider and the gates are opened as the first warrior reaches the iron gates. As they pass through the gateway they are greeted by the townsfolk inside and accept the words and waves of welcome as well as the salutes of fellow warriors on the outskirts of the crowd.

Tamia's first view of the inside of the outpost is surprising. She had expected some rustic village of a few men sitting guard, but inside the thick stone wall is a garrison town of maybe a hundred warriors and all the people needed to support them including their mates and children. As the warriors dismount in front of the stables younger children of maybe ten years run up to take the reins from them and lead the mounts into the shelter of the large stone building soon as the riders have removed their saddles and bags. The humans are helped down and as the iron gates close with a clang the two men's bonds are cut. The females who had claimed them motion them to follow and they do so with quick glances back at Tamia and the warrior still with her.

Metaro helps Tamia down to the ground and motions his grandmother over. They speak quietly in their native tongue, "Take care of her for me please. I must check in with the outpost's commander."

She gives him a slight nod and smile before she turns to the young woman and, still smiling, motions her to follow. Turning away without a second look she leads her to one of the single story stone buildings. Tamia casts a quick glance at the large white warrior who nods briefly to her before turning away to tend to his own duties. With a few quick steps she catches up with the lioness and follows her into the small residence.

Inside she finds the building is a residence with a large living-sleeping room and a separate bathing area. The lioness pulls off her cloak and hangs it on a peg by the door before walking over to the wide fireplace and, pulling her gloves off, warms her hands at the low fire. "Ohhhh... This might be my last time to ride out on a raid. These old bones are starting to feel their age."

Tamia removes the oversized cloak and hangs it with the female's own cloak, "May I ask... how old are you?"

The lioness casts a sideways glance and nods, "You can indeed. I am one-hundred and thirteen young one." The young girl looks at her in astonishment and the lioness nods, her grin broadening, "That's right young human, I am older than most old timers you've met I'm sure." At Tamia's nod she turns back to the fire and continues, "We live longer on average than humans. My own mother only passed away ten years ago at the grand old age of one-fifty-three. So you see I still have a few years in this old body yet to go."

Still in shock at the revelation, the young girl stammers, "H... H... How old is your grandson?"

The lioness lets loose with a purring laugh, "He's little more than a cub young lady. He's only seen twenty-two years."

"Then he leads this group of warriors because of who his father is?" she asks surprised to find someone so young, even by human terms, in charge of so many warriors.

The older female shakes her head, "Birth means nothing in leaders. Having a sire who is great means you only have that further to climb to prove you are worthy of being a leader. He has earned the right to command, not just a small raiding party of some twenty warriors, but command every warrior in our lands. As War Chief he can lead ten-thousand warriors into battle if he but roars for it."

The numbers quoted to her make her eyes go wide, "Did you say ten-thousand?"

Her reply is a casual nod, "Might be more these days. We had to settle a few more villages a few years ago, so I'm sure there are a few new warriors to add to our ranks. But that's pretty close an assessment."

"Why would someone so powerful to your people lead so few then?" she asks before she clamps her hand over her mouth wondering if she might have offended the elderly female.

The lioness' gaze focuses on the fire, the red and yellow flames reflecting in her bright eyes, "You haven't heard yet I take it?" Looking sideways at the young girl who shakes her head, she continues, "Your Lords sent their troops to attack us. Five were killed, not in honorable combat, but murdered in cold blood while unarmed or unable to defend themselves." Returning her gaze to the flames she says with a sorrow laden voice, "My grandson's sire, my own son, died defending his mate. Naked and unarmed, he claimed four with his bare hands before they could swarm him. His mate's throat was slit while four men held her to the bed, also naked. But that was before the warriors could react, when they did there was no mercy given."

Tamia watches the old lioness's hands clench in remembered anger at the attack. "Who were the other three?" she asks quietly.

The older female closes her eyes and chokes back a sob, "Three infant cubs playing away from their mothers..." She shakes her head sadly, "I don't care how much they hated us, but to kill our defenseless children was too much." She slowly brings herself under control and looks back at the human girl, "And so now you know why we raided. If it will be the last, I don't know. That will be up to your people. If they attack again after this warning, it will mean all out war."

Tamia looks at her own hands as she warms herself at the fire beside the lioness, "The Lords might be stupid enough to think that they have enough troops. From what I saw today, your warriors could take three times their number in open battle. Since the Lords only have about five-thousand men-at-arms, they will lose..." She looks up at the older female, "Do you think your grandson wants this war?"

The lioness sighs and shakes her head, "No sane person wants a war."

"Is he sane?" she asks quietly.

"As sane as any of us," she answers just as quietly.

The old lioness starts to remove her heavy robes and calming her features into a soft smile looks at the girl standing next to her, "Now, I think a hot bath would be heavenly after the long ride and the scare on the trail today." She points to the smaller bathing room, "We have natural hot springs throughout our territory and we've used them as bathing pools for generations. Most of our residences have one adapted for personal use."

The girl goes to the door and peeks through at the smaller room, "You live in luxury here." She looks over her shoulder at the old lioness, where she is stripping the last of her garments from a body that looks very human, except for the feline features and full body pelt of tawny fur. She notices that the old female doesn't show her years, her body still looking fit and attractive; her breasts still firm and no sign of the sagging most women develop late in life, her short fur having a healthy sheen to it. A blush floods her face and she quickly looks away as she realizes she had been staring at the lioness.

The lioness sees this and purr-chuckles softly, "You should get used to it young lady. Before too long you'll probably see my grandson's body too."

The girl's eyes dart back to her a mixture of loathing and fear flashing in them, "He wouldn't..."

The lioness shakes her head violently to reassure her, the long braids of her dark hair whipping back and forth, "No! He would never force that on you. But you might be called upon to help him bathe, or give him a massage. If he's wounded you might even have to doctor him." She gives her a curious wink, "You might find you like the look of his body even." She waves to the bathing room, "Now come on girl, strip off those dirty road clothes and we can bathe before we don clean apparel and have a hot meal. I don't know when my grandson will return, so we won't wait for him."

* * *

Metaro walks to the residence on one side of the main barracks and knocks respectfully on the door. He waits a few seconds till he hears a deep answering purr. Opening the wooden door he pulls his armored gauntlets off as he steps into the warm interior.

A large female sitting on a cushion next to a low table turns to him and smiles, "Metaro! How was the raid War Chief?" She stands and walks over to him, one hand gripping his offered right forearm as he takes a mutual grip on hers, their left hands reaching up to grip the back of each other's necks and rest their foreheads gently against each other in greeting. "How has my little brother been?"

"Well Pureat, well," he responds as she motions for him to join her at the low table. He nods as she offers him a warm mug of mead and takes the offered seat. "The raid went well, no injuries. Three prizes kept, and much ransom brought to enhance the wealth of those who went."

The white lioness smiles at her little brother and resumes her own seat, "Did my little brother find a prize?" The insides of his ears blush in response and she laughs long and loud. "Well, I hope she's a strong one at least."

He nods as he takes a pull from the mug, "She is, tried to shoot me in fact. The townsfolk tried to ransom her back, but I claimed my rights to refuse to return an attacker."

Pureat rubs her chin as she grins, "Fight in her, good, good. Are you going to free her and try to make her your mate then my little brother?"

He looks into the mug shyly, "Too soon to decide such a thing, but I will free her if she is honorable and earns it." He lifts the mug to his lips and takes a small sip before he lowers it again to look his sister in the eye.

She nods as she settles back into the cushions, "A cautious male as always my brother is." She gives him another smile, "Where is she?"

"Grandmother is watching after her. Probably having a good long bath about now," he sets his mug down and looks up at her, "Two other prizes taken, both males."

"Oh? Who?" she asks surprised.

"Murri and Naoi each took one. One is a big healthy male, the other somewhat smaller, but younger too. The older one seems to have settled into his new situation, but the young one seems to be a hothead, he might do something stupid. But we'll see how Naoi handles him. He might just change his mind after tonight," he chuckles softly having heard the females talking about their plans for their prizes.

The lioness nods and smiles at her little brother again, "Anything else to report?"

He nods as he takes another pull from his mug, "Large pack of dire wolves on the way here. Saw more than a dozen, killed seven. No serious injuries other than a few bruises from dismounted riders."

She nods and makes a notation on a slate resting on the table, "I've been getting reports of more and more of those around here. Be careful on the way home, there have been reports of similar attacks along the way."

He nods and finishes his drink. Setting the mug down on the table he looks into her ice blue eyes with his piercing green ones, "Do you still feel them?"

She looks down at her own hands and nods, "It's been less than a month since..."

He nods slowly and pours both of them another glass of the mead. Lifting his glass he raises it to her and she picks up her own, "To our parents, may they live forever in the halls of the gods and watch over our people as we face the times of change to come." With a gentle touching of mugs they both down the full tankards and slam them back down with a simultaneous smack on the wooden table.

"Are you ready for what's to come?" she asks quietly.

He chuckles lightly and looks down at his hands, "Is anyone ever ready for the trial?"

"But with father dead, there must be a Grand Leader again. And all of the warriors believe you are the only one who can earn such a right." She gently reaches out for his hand and takes it in both of hers, "I know you're worried about something. What is it?"

He looks up at her again and shakes his head, "I'm not ready. I'm not our father..."

"But, you are the one he had been training to take his place. You know none others have stepped up to challenge you?" He nods silently, "Then return home in triumph and take the trials. Have faith in yourself brother, we do."

He nods and giving her hands a gentle pump he slowly stands, "I think I should check on my warriors and get some rest. We'll ride out after a day of rest here."

She waves a dismissive hand at him, "Get the rest, my subordinate is taking care of your people."

He waggles a finger at her, "You know that as War Chief it's my job to check my own party."

She nods and waves him off, "Go on then thick skull." He gives her a short nod and leaves her residence. She watches him leave and whispers quietly to herself, "Tame the beast and ride it as a Grand Leader among tribes little brother. Something is building and we're going to need your full power soon."

But he doesn't hear her. He doesn't head to the barracks that hold his small raiding party either. Instead he walks up onto the wall's ramparts and starts walking the perimeter of the thick stone walls. Looking out into the night he watches the woods starting a few hundred yards from the walls. "Am I ready," he quietly whispers to himself.

"For what War Chief?" asks a patrolling night watchman as he stops in surprise next to the larger armored warrior.

Having not noticed the fellow warrior he looks up in surprise before he shakes his head, "Nothing, just talking to myself Tiren."

The warrior is sure it isn't "nothing", but he knows better than to force someone's inner thoughts from themselves. He gives a quick salute and continues on his rounds. Metaro returns the salute and looks up into the sky. The clouds that had been threatening to cover them in several feet of snow have cleared and the bright stars are twinkling down on him. He thinks he can almost see his parents up there looking down on him. He says a silent prayer and after a moment of silence climbs down from the wall to seek his sleeping quarters.

He finds the visiting commander's quarters, and giving a soft knock, lets himself into the accommodation. He finds his grandmother and the young human sitting and chatting quietly in the living-sleeping room and with a tired sigh settles himself to an empty cushion. Reaching under a few pieces off his armor he starts to release straps and latches to remove the pieces one by one. He is mildly surprised when the young girl comes over and helps him by taking the pieces of armor and setting them on a nearby low table. He grunts in relief as she helps him pull the heavy breastplate from his form and struggling she sets it down with the rest. With a flurry of motion he pulls off the under-padding, leaving him sitting there in only a loincloth and his fur. He scratches a few itches that have been getting to him and fluffs his pelt up where sweat has matted it flat to his skin.

He notices the empty platter on another table near where the two females had been sitting. "Can you order me a little something while I bathe?" he asks as he slowly stands again.

His grandmother nods and gives him a soft smile, "Of course lad."

He walks slowly towards the bathing room, his tail actually dragging the floor from exhaustion. In the bathing room he strips off the loincloth and slips into the deep bathing pool of warm water. Sliding his rear along the smooth stone bench under the water he rests his head on the edge of the pool and closes his eyes to let the warmth ease his aches and pains.

"Would you like some help?" asks a soft feminine voice behind him.

He jerks to a sitting position and turns to look at Tamia in surprise. She stands there in a light cloth robe his grandmother must have let her use, even if it is too long for her shorter frame. He closes his eyes again and tries to relax back into the water, "No thank you, just let me rest."

She turns and leaves the room without a word and he sighs in relief. Did he want her to help? He felt a stir in his loins at the thought of her stripping and helping him wash his fur, her small hands stroking over and through his thick white fur and caressing his tight muscles. Delicate, questing hands finding the many imperfections in his hide from the many wounds he's acquired over the years of his life. He suppresses the urges with a soft growl. 'That's not the way to show her trust and respect,' he thinks to himself as he stamps down the thought of her touch. He looks down into the water and sees some pink peeking out from his loins. 'You're not helping,' he thinks to himself.

Reaching for a small bag on the edge of the tub he pours a handful of the powder like sand into his palm and starts to scrub it into his fur to remove the caked in sweat and dirt from such a long trip in armor. He grits his teeth in pain as some of the tight muscles protest his motions, but his rubbing hands and the warm water slowly relax his muscles one by one. He dips under the water to wet his thick mane and surfaces again to start washing it with another hefty handful of the powdery sand. Dunking himself under the water again he shakes his head to make his thick mane swish around his head and clear the last of the cleansing sand from it. Coming up again he shakes his head again to remove most of the water from his mane and let it poof out again instead of plastering to his head.

With a relaxing sigh he leans back again and just lets himself float there in the warm water. His mind wanders over the days to come once he and his raiding party return home. 'The trials... Am I ready?' he asks himself in his head. Much as he tries he is unable to come up with a truthful answer and finally gives a sigh of resignation, and sitting up, starts to pull himself from the warm water. Thankful that the same hot springs that warm the water help to keep the air warm in this room so he doesn't feel the chill he would have otherwise.

Taking a towel of a soft material he starts to rub his fur dry and grunts as the rubbing forces his fur every which way. After the worst of the water is removed he finds a clean loincloth and short pants in a neat folded pile by the door, and smiling to himself, puts them on. Looking in the polished silver mirror hanging on one wall he starts to brush out the tangles in his mane and the thick fur of his chest. Pulling his tail around, he brushes out the tuft on the end and enjoys the feeling of being truly clean again.

Stepping back through the doorway and into the main room he sees the two females talking privately and watches them stop as he comes visible. His grandmother nods to the young human who goes over to another table and uncovers a tray of food. "Is this sufficient?"

He nods tiredly and gives her a brief and soft smile, his curving lips keeping his fangs hidden, "Thank you." He sits quietly next to the table with the food on it and starts to dig in. Looking up at the girl still standing by his side he tilts his head at her and swallows a mouthful of food, "Yes?"

"Isn't this the kind of thing I'm supposed to do?" she asks with a petulant tone in her voice. "Be your helpful and submissive servant?"

He sighs and shakes his head, "Go sit with my grandmother and rest. We'll talk about what I expect of you later." He lowers his eyes back to the food and resumes eating after a moment. His ear flicks as he listens to her stomping off to plop next to the old lioness who whispers something so softly even he can't hear.

As he finishes the meal he wipes his hands on a cloth and settles down on one of the piles of furs and cushions they use for temporary bedding and pulls a light fur over his large form. The two females watch him and nod to each other in understanding. They each go to their own sleeping furs and the female lioness strips off her clothing before curling up in her warm furs while Tamia keeps the robes on when she crawls between the furs and closes her eyes to sleep quietly.

* * *

Tamia wakes in the pre-dawn of morning to the shuffling sounds of someone moving around. The fire in the fireplace has died down during the night to a low glow of embers. And now they cast a red glow over the room and the male warrior squatting to one side of the fireplace. The low red light turning his white fur a blood red and his eyes dark as the pits of hell in the shadows. She wonders if he is still the same person squatting there, or if he truly was the creature of her nightmares now.

Metaro's ear tweaks uneasily and he turns to look at her, the light must have glinted off her eyes cause he quietly stands and walks slowly over, quiet as a ghost on his large furred feet. "You should be sleeping," his voice quietly comes to her as he slowly reaches a hand out to stroke her long red hair. "It's too early for you to be awake."

She sits herself up and looks up at his massive form squatting over her. "Why are you up then?" she asks in return.

He looks up towards the ceiling and lets out a long sigh, "Things impinge on my sleep and don't allow me the peace of slumber." He looks back down at her and smiles softly to her in the red glow of the coals, "Don't let it bother you little one. Call it the ramblings of a lone warrior's soul." He eases her back down to the furs and smoothes the blankets over her body. "Now rest, I've got to go out for a while."

She watches him take his own cloak off the hook by the door and throwing it over his shoulders steps out still barefoot into the cold outside.

She climbs from the furs and sneaking to the door opens it a crack to peek out and try to find the mysterious warrior. The weather has worsened during the night and a heavy snow is falling now, blocking any view of the lone warrior out there.

She hears a quiet cough behind her and turns to see the old lioness looking at her, "Close the door girl, you'll let the heat out."

Tamia closes the door and returns to her bed, "He went out with just a cloak, not even any shoes."

The lioness nods in the dim red glow, "He'll be fine. These mountains are our homelands after all."

Tamia curls up in the furs and tries to sleep again but lies there awake and watching the door. Wondering if the large warrior will be coming back, and wondering why she cares. He is her captor, not her friend. So his people had been attacked by the local Lord's army. What did that have to do with her? She had only been defending herself when he and his band of ruffians had attacked the town she was in. So what if his parents had been killed, and some little kids too, why did that give them the right to attack her and those she had grown to like?

But she finds that deep down she does care. He and his people didn't seem so vicious away from the fighting. And they hadn't killed anyone in the town, only subdued them. Yet they had shown how powerful they could be with the slaying of the deadly dire wolves and the protection of her and the other two prisoners. The tears she had seen at the loss of loved ones... They weren't creatures, they were people. And as such they didn't deserve the unwarranted attacks of Lords who only see money and power in everything.

This realization comes to her and she wonders just what the coming days have in store for her. Letting this roll over in her mind she finally slips into sleep again and lets her mind rest.

* * *

Metaro returns as the snowfall reduces to only flurries and here and there the sky is tinted red with the rising sun in the East. He enters silently and returns his cloak to its hook. Walking over to the fire he places a few pieces of fresh wood on the coals and with a long metal poker stirs the coals back into full flame. The fire lightens the room and taking a lit taper he lights a few candles scattered around the room to provide more light.

With the increase in light the old lioness and the young girl slowly start to stir to wakefulness. Sitting up, Tamia stretches carefully before letting her arms fall back to the furs pooled in her lap and studies the broad back of the lion-man standing in front of her. She notices that his fur seems to have a dull sheen in it, probably a sign of good health, and the muscles under the white pelt show extensive use. She wonders at the few blemishes in the smooth fur, 'Now what could that be? Scars?' she asks herself.

Almost as if he can feel her gaze he slowly turns to look at her, his green eyes gazing into hers. He seems to study her for a few minutes before he walks over and crouches down in front of her. "Did you sleep well?" he asks politely.

She nods slowly as she looks up at him, even crouched on the floor. Once again she is reminded of just how big he is.

He sits near her on a pile of furs and rubs his chin as he looks her over, "I suppose we have a little time to spare today so I should explain a few things. I know my grandmother has told you some of what prizes usually do but I am not looking for a servant to rub my back and wash my clothes."

She nods slightly, "She told me some things."

"Did she tell you that you might earn your freedom?" he asks her.

Again she nods, "Yes." A glimmer of hope appears in her eyes, she tries to damp it down but he notices it anyway.

He nods back and reaches out to gently take her tiny hands in his massive ones, "I am not going to force you to do anything. But I am going to ask you to behave yourself for the next few days. After we return to our home village... Well, there is something important I have to do. If I succeed, we can talk more about what is expected of you. But if I fail, I'm leaving instructions with my grandmother that you are to be released near a human town and given your full liberty."

She asks quietly, "What are the odds of you failing?"

He closes his eyes and pulls in a long breath before letting it slowly out, "Better then my chances of succeeding."

She blinks at his honest answer, "Why would you release me if you fail?"

He keeps his eyes closed for a moment then slowly looks up into her face. Those piercing green eyes had been the first thing she had seen of him, and now she saw something in them, was it fear? "If I fail, I will be dead. But I will not allow anyone else to take you as a prize."

"Why?" she asks not entirely understanding why he is being so kind to her.

He grimaces sharply and looks afraid to tell her, but slowly he relaxes and lets it out, "Because, you remind me of my mother..."

Tamia sits there stunned. She doesn't know what to say; surely his mother was one of these Higier. Not expecting a response from her he disappears through a small door and into the third room of the house that was obviously for taking care of personal business.

The old lioness is still lying wrapped up in her furs and watching the young girl's face registering the surprise. "Can't believe it, can you?" she asks quietly so her voice won't carry to Metaro.

Tamia shakes herself out of her stupor and looks at the old female. "How can I remind him of his mother? Surely his mother was much like you..." she trails off as she watches the lioness slowly shake her head. "It can't be..." and again she trails off as the old female nods her head solemnly. "But he shows no sign of human blood in him. Other then the white fur he looks like the rest of you."

"Yes, he is a half-breed by definition, but he is also a full blooded Higier," she quietly tells her as she sits up and keeps the furs around her as if warding off a chill.

Tamia is truly confused now, "How can he be both?"

The old lioness looks straight into her eyes, "Are you sure you want to know?" At the girl's nod she sighs and continues, "His mother caught my son's eye about thirty years ago when the clashes between our people were more common. She had no family and so wasn't ransomed back to the village she came from; no one would take responsibility for her." The lioness slowly stands and, letting the furs slip from her shoulders, starts to dress as she continues, "We have some natural magical abilities. You saw one during the fight with the Dire Wolves. Most of our abilities contribute to our survival as a species. And one way that we do this is we can breed with any other sentient species of approximately our size."

She turns back to look down at the girl looking at her in shock, "Are you..."

She lays a hand on her own chest, "Oh, I and most of our people are one-hundred percent Higier, but there are a few like my grandson who are half-breeds. When we return to our village you will even meet a few other humans who live among us of their own free will. Once a prize earns their freedom, no one can force them to do anything, including stay with or leave us."

She looks up and not at the ceiling, but past it at some other time. "His mother was quiet a strong woman who fell in love with my son before even she knew." She lowers her head, eyes closed and chuckles softly, "She was even a warrior is her own right, an archer, and quite a good one too. She was one of a kind, and for some reason my bull headed grandson sees such a one as her in you." Tilting her head to the side she studies the young woman sitting in the pile of furs, "And maybe he's right. Time will tell."

Tamia stands as Metaro leaves the privy and heads for the door, "I'll go get some breakfast for us. You ladies can see to your needs in privacy without me here." Without another word the large white Higier opens the door and leaves the building, his cloak still hanging on a peg next to the door.

"What is this danger he has to face when we return to your home?" she asks quietly.

"The trial of leadership, if he succeeds he will succeed his sire as our Grand Leader, Chieftain of all the tribes of our lands." The old lioness almost seems proud of such a thing, but there is a hint of worry in her eyes that Tamia catches.

"What's the risk?" she asks quietly.

The lioness turns to face her fully, "He must tame an animal far more dangerous than those little Dire Wolves you saw yesterday. And many who have tried have died." She holds out her hand, palm up, and a faint glow appears in the air over her hand, slowly a thin dust forms into the shape of a roaring feline animal and she quietly continues, "The Great Northern Snow Tiger, they are larger than the largest horse and ten times more ferocious than a Mountain Wyvern."

She looks at the figure in the female's hand and blinks, "How big is one of those?"

"Twenty feet or more in length, and more than six feet high at the shoulder," she also watches the small glowing figure as it rears back its head and roars again as one of its forepaws digs at the ground with massive claws. "They are the true masters of the northern mountains. Even we have reason to respect them."

Tamia blinks again and speaks, "Surely a fully trained and armored warrior of your people could at least stand better than average odds at killing such an animal?"

The old woman shakes her head as she dismisses the apparition, "You do not understand Tamia, he must not kill it, he must tame it while unarmed and unarmored."

The human girl looks at her in stunned shock again, "That's crazy..."

She shrugs slightly, "That's our laws and the only way our Great Leaders can show their true courage and strength. To tame something so wild, to bind it to your soul, to convince it to follow you into battle and aid your people, can you think of anything more proving of a leader?"

Metaro comes back with a large platter balanced on one hand and a pitcher of water and some mugs in the other. He looks at them in surprise; they haven't moved an inch from where they were when he left, "What's wrong?"

Tamia turns to look at him, "Nothing..."

His grandmother smiles and steps forward to take the platter from him, "Thank you lad. We were just waiting for you to come back with food."

Metaro sees something in the young girl's face to indicate worry. "Are you sure?" he asks softly and she nods. Not wanting to press it he turns and places the mugs and pitcher on the table. "We've got a little bit of everything for breakfast."

His grandmother removes the cover and smiles, her eyes closing at the mouth watering aroma of the succulent foods provided them. "So I see, your sister is truly treating us."

Tamia doesn't understand what they say since they have slipped back into their native language, a combination of growling vowels and purred syllables. She tries to listen and is unable to learn much from so few words. They switch back to basic when they realize what they've done. Indicating she should seat herself and start eating they do so as well and the meal passes in quiet comfort. But she finds herself studying him several times during the meal. 'Is this warrior one of the truly brave, or the truly insane?' she asks herself.

* * *

That night as they are getting ready for bed Tamia watches the large warrior disappear into the bathing room again. She looks over at the lioness and sees that she has stripped off her clothing and is settling herself down for sleep. Without a second look she slips quietly behind the male into the bathing chamber a minute later.

In the dim bathing room she catches a glimpse of the white furred male slipping into the warm water. She had to admit, he had a good body, even if it was covered in fur. And she admires the quick view of his rear before it disappears under the water. She stands just inside the door and waits quietly as he settles down till his head is pillowed against the edge of the warm pool. Thinking she is undetected she starts to quietly step forward and notices one of his ears twitch curiously.

"I know you're there Tamia, why did you follow me?" he asks quietly without opening an eye.

She startles at his words and freezes in location as she answers, "Your grandmother told me something of what you're facing. Is it really worth the risk to you?"

"Yes," he says without a moment's hesitation.

"Why?" she asks quietly.

"Because it's the only thing that will complete me," he says with a low sigh.

She comes a few steps closer and kneels behind his head, "I don't understand."

"I know," he replies even quieter than before.

She rests a hand on his shoulder, "Is this just so you can be this 'Grand Leader'?"

He shakes his head slowly in answer, "I don't want to be the Grand Leader."

"Then why?" she asks in a whisper.

"Because I am the best for the job," he answers without any noticeable emotion.

She starts to gently rub his shoulders under her hands and she can feel him relax under her fingers. She halfway expects him to tell her to stop, but instead he starts to quietly purr, a deep rumbling sound like a giant housecat. She thinks of saying something funny but changes her mind. 'He may look like a cat, but he isn't an animal, he's a person,' she tells herself mentally.

A few minutes later she realizes he's fallen asleep in the water from the combined warmth of the water and her rubbing of his shoulders. She studies him as he quietly sleeps and decides she has to call him not handsome, but definitely exotic.

She gently shakes him and his eyes snap open to look up into her face. "You fell asleep," she answers his unspoken question.

He looks down into the water and pulls himself out of the water to sit on the edge. Tamia averts her gaze after taking a quick peek and noticing the differences between his kind and humans. She hands him a fluffy piece of cloth and lets him dry himself off. Standing up all the way he looks around for his loincloth and she hands it to him with her gaze focused on the door. He mumbles thanks, and ties it on.

His loins now covered he rests his large hand on her shoulder and quietly tells her, "Come, we should get some sleep. We leave at first light for home."

She nods silently and follows him into the sleeping room. With tender care he tucks her into the bed furs and pats her head. She gives him a soft grin and he returns it before he walks over to his own furs and slips between them. Soon his breathing can be heard softly slipping into the rhythm of peaceful sleep.

* * *

A large hand gently shakes Tamia's shoulder and she jerks awake from her dreams. She looks up and sees a large shadowed form kneeling over her. "Time to get ready," Metaro tells her quietly. Seeing her nod slightly he stands and walking over to the fireplace feeds a few more pieces of wood into the hot coals, causing the fire to roar to life again and fill the room with its yellow light.

She slips from the furs and sees he's already donned the leather and cloth padding for his heavy armor. "Do you need some help getting ready?" she asks as she stands from the furs.

He looks at her over his shoulder and shakes his head, "No need. One of the other warriors will give me a hand. My grandmother has a few things for you though." He waves a hand towards the bathing chamber. "Go ahead and freshen up, we need to be on our way soon as everyone is ready."

She gives him a slight nod before she slips through the doorway into the bathing room. She sees the older lioness slipping from the warm water and giving her a smile, "Good morning young one, did your sleep bring good dreams?"

Tamia finds herself nodding with a slight smile, "It did. Do you need anything?"

The lioness shakes her head slowly so not to shower the still clothed girl, "No, you go ahead and have a dip to wake up and chase the sleep from your eyes. I'll be back in a few." She leaves the room without covering herself, just rubbing herself with the towel to dry off.

Tamia looks back at the naturally warm pool and stripping her clothing from her body she slips in without a ripple to sigh in relief. Leaning her head against the side of the pool she closes her eyes for a moment and just enjoys the warmth as it soaks her body. 'I could get to like this,' she thinks to herself. Pulling her head up she starts to quickly scrub herself with the fine soapy sand. After rinsing her hair clean she deftly braids it till the long plait of hair hangs down almost to her rear, better for riding then loose hair. Stepping out of the bath she takes one of the towels folded there and starts to dry herself off, but suddenly covers herself with the towel as the lioness comes back fully clothed for travel and with a bundle in her hands.

She notices the girl's action and grins reassuringly, "Don't worry girl, I'm not going to ravage you. And you've got nothing I haven't seen a million times." She sits on a small bench against the wall and with deft hands starts to unwrap the package. "My grandson ordered these from stores since you didn't have any proper clothing for this weather. And he thought you might be more comfortable in something your own size rather than my own." She holds up a light tan robe with a stripped fur lining and shows it to her, "What do you think?"

Tamia reaches out to tenderly touch the clothing, her fingers finding the fur to be softer than anything she'd ever felt, and she'd felt many a soft fur. "How did he get such an item so quickly?"

"This may be a garrison town girl, but there are still stores for the families of those stationed here." She looks down at the fine gown and chuckles softly, "Though this would normally be worn by a teenager because of its size. I think it will fit you perfectly." Setting it on the bench carefully she then digs out some undergarments and hands them to Tamia, "Here you go, some clean undergarments for you too."

Tamia takes the garments and slips into them quickly, disliking being nude in front of anyone, even another female. "This is too kind though," she says as she picks up the robe and looks at it. The leather is finely tanned and stitched together in such a delicate looking pattern of stitches it's amazing how strong they seem at closer examination. "This must be a master's work," she says with a quiet breath.

The older lioness smiles at her and nods, "Our crafters are known for their skill with both leather and metal, and we traded both freely in times long gone now. When the world was more at peace then it is now."

Tamia wraps the robe around her body and smiles as it fits better then a glove, the soft fur tickling her neck lightly. Her eyes go wide at the pair of leather riding boots the older female sets on the ground in front of her. Picking one up she examines it closely, the worked leather softer than that of the robe and dyed such a lovely shade of reddish bronze that it seems to almost match her own hair. The inside is lined with a soft fleece that will keep her feet warm, even in these cold northern lands. "Why?" she asks quietly as she looks up at the older female.

She smiles softly and reaches a hand out to stroke her cheek, "Because my grandson wants you to be comfortable while you're with us. As I told you, you're not some slave. You are a guest, a prize, and one who may someday be family."

"But I don't deserve anything like this. Surly there will be some female among your people who will be jealous to see him giving such things to me?"

The older female shakes her head, "You don't know our ways girl. If he didn't take care of you and cloth you properly some other warrior would challenge him in honor duel for the right to continue to be your master. And a lovely woman like you would be greatly sought by many of the younger warriors. So it is only right for him to do this in our customs."

"But such fine clothing..." she lets her voice drift off to silence as the lioness nods in response, "I just don't understand all this."

"I know, but just accept them for now; you are too humble to be a human I'm starting to think." She digs in the bundle again, "Now try those boots on, my grandson has a good eye but he could have still been wrong.

The young girl sits on a stool and slips her feet into the soft boots. Lacing them tight she stands and wiggles her toes inside the softness of the finely crafted footwear. "They fit better than even the robe." She looks up at the older female and returns the soft smile with a wide one of her own. She then sees what the lioness is pulling out of the bundle and she looks in surprise.

"And we can't let you catch your death of cold while on the trail. Warm as my grandson's cloak is, it's a bit too big for you and he'll need it himself over the next few days. So this I give to you," she says as she holds out a cloak of pure white fur.

Tamia reaches out a hand to tenderly stroke the soft fur and looks up at the lioness as if asking permission. The older female nods and lets the young girl take the fur cloak from her. With a flourish she wraps the heavy furred cloak over her shoulders and clasps the small silver chain to keep it in place. "Thank you," she says softly as she bows her head to the lioness.

The lioness smiles and takes a small silver lion's head and pins it to the chain holding the cloak closed, "This is to identify you as belonging to my grandson. Now you may go outside and get some air while I gather my own possessions." They step into the main living area and she looks around for the large white feline warrior but he's noticeably absent. Looking at his grandmother she grins down at the young human, "He's outside seeing to the preparations for the ride." She waves her towards the door, "Now go see how those clothes do you outside. We'll be leaving soon enough."

Tamia turns and meekly peeks outside before she steps out into the chilled air.

Outside in the courtyard of the barracks she finds hustle and bustle as the warriors prepare mounts and gather rations for the trail. She notices Heror also garbed in fitting clothing standing to one side and just watching the industry. She steps up next to him and he smiles down at her, "Good to see you lass, that big warrior treating you alright?"

She smiles up to him, "Well enough for a prisoner I guess, though he seems to hope for more in the future."

He nods, "I see you've been learning about their ways. At least here we're safer than anyone else except a newborn cub."

She looks around for the other human who'd been taken with them, "Where's Merike?"

He chuckles and tosses a thumb over his shoulder, "He and that female who claimed him seem to have already reached something of an understanding. Guessing from what I heard they're getting a quickie in before the ride, won't be any more privacy till we reach their village more than likely."

She blushes at the older man's description, "And you?"

He rubs his chin and chuckles, "I'm not as young as that buck, but let's just say the warrior who claims me turns out to be a nice lady. She just wants the pampering that any lady likes. And I can give that in addition to slacking any physical urges we both have."

She chuckles softly at his comments, "Well, you both seem to have been taken in by these people."

He shrugs and looks around, "I've lived in the shadow of their mountains for most of my life. I grew up knowing their traditions, even if there wasn't much commerce between our people. And they are a brave and noble people. I can't help but like what I see in them."

She drops her voice to a soft whisper, "Did you know the leader of them is a half-breed?"

She is shocked by his nod, "I met his mother once, years ago. She was a brave and courageous woman." His face saddens, "I'm sorry to hear of her death at the hands of some murderous soldiers who came only to kill those who will never submit to the Lords' wills."

She shakes her head, "The Lords will regret it if they push the fight with these people. The lioness told me that they have some ten thousand warriors among their people. And they would all march to this warrior's banner if he but called for it."

He nods in understanding, "I've heard tales of the Great Northern Army, but many believe it's just a legend and that no group of dispersed tribes could manage such a feat." He sighs softly and looks around at the troupe of warriors, "From what I know and what I've seen I believe the great Metaro Whitemane could probably pull more than that to his call if war erupted."

She looks around at the saddled war horses and pack animals, "With what I see in this one small outpost I'd believe they could raise more than that too." Suddenly she catches sight of Metaro in his armor and long cloak talking to a tall female with fur as white as his. "What do you know of him?" she asks Heror quietly.

He looks over at the tall warrior and shrugs, "Not a lot, but I do know his name is Metaro Whitemane, son of the last Great Leader of the Northern People. I've heard nothing else but rumors."

"Like what?" she asks, her eyebrows arching up in curiosity.

"Well, he's an unmatched warrior who has never been bested in combat. Hence his position was War Leader. Some claim he killed his first Dire Wolf when he was only five, but I find that a little hard to believe." He looks over to Murri where she's saddling her horse, "The lady I've spent the last few days with says he has had to defend himself more than once against challengers. She claims an old and scarred warrior who challenged him for proof of his abilities gave him his axe when he proved his abilities, and there is something magical about it, but she wouldn't go into more detail." He chuckles softly as he gives her a wink, "I gather that there are some females who are going to be jealous of you when we return to the village."

She tilts her head at him, "You think we're an item already?"

He shakes his head, "I know you well enough to know you aren't sleeping with him yet, but I suspect you're at least curious too." He chuckles as she fails to hide a blush, "Nothing wrong with it lass, he's a strong male, might even make a good mate. You never know, love might just grow when the seeds have been planted."

"I wonder sometimes, he doesn't even make a pass at me," she says almost complaining.

Heror nods his head in understanding, "I hear he has a lot on his mind with the death of his parents." He rests a hand on her shoulder and gives her a smile, "Give him a little time lass, if things are going to happen, they'll happen." He tilts his head to one side as he looks down at her, "I take it you truly are interested in him?"

She bites her lower lip, "I'm curious about him. I have respect for him, even if I am still upset about being a 'prize'."

Heror looks over her new clothing, "I see he's equipped you proper for this weather."

She nods and casts him a smile, "As has your mistress I see."

He chuckles and nods as he tugs lightly at the cloak over his shoulders. "They do take good care of us, better than our Lords ever have. But none of it is free; we have our duties too, even if it's only doing a little menial work."

She sighs as she pulls her own cloak tight about her shoulders, "Even a gilded cage is still a cage, and I can't help but want my freedom back."

"Be patient little one," comes the big warrior's voice from behind her, causing her to jump in surprise. She looks behind her sheepishly to find him standing there with the white furred female next to him. "A wise man once said 'good things come to those who wait', and he was right you will find." Turning to the female next to him the two leonine warriors converse in their native tongue for a few moments before the female slaps him on the back and laughing walks off. "My older sister," he explains as she watches the female walk off. "She wanted to see you for herself before we head out."

She tilts her head to the side, "And?"

He looks a little embarrassed, "She approves of you."

A look of surprise crosses her face and she asks, "For what?"

He shakes his head, "We'll talk about it when we're home." He motions her to follow him, "Come, I have something to show you."

With a nod to Heror she follows the big warrior as he turns and walks back towards the horses. He walks to his massive warhorse and pats the stallion's neck before he ducks under the horse's neck to a smaller mare on the other side. She follows and he pats the smaller horse's saddle. "You'll ride this young mare on the trail today. I thought you might want to ride your own horse instead of being perched uncomfortably on the front of my saddle."

She steps forward and gently strokes the mare's neck. She's bigger than the horses she's used to, but smaller than the giant war horses ridden by the warriors or the sturdy pack animals that haul their loot. She notices the reins are tied to the back of his own horse's saddle so she knows she will have no real control over the animal, but it will be more comfortable on her rear to ride her own horse. "Thank you, what's her name?"

"Shile," he says quietly as he gently pats the mare's neck. "She's sturdy and sure footed. She'll get you to the village easily."

She nods as she strokes the mare's neck and head, "A beautiful animal."

He nods, "I'll leave you to get used to her while I see to the last of our preparations." And with that he leaves her alone again.

She continues to look at the place he had occupied only moments before as she asks herself, 'Why do I loathe, and yet desire you?' She rests her forehead against the mare's neck and sighs softly in the cold air. 'Why did the gods bring me into this situation?' She thinks more and more of the last two days. How confusing her emotions are for this large warrior. She whispers to the horse, "What would you do if you were me?"

She hears booted feet crunch the snow behind her and she whips around to see the white furred female standing there studying her intently. They study each other for several long moments before the tall lioness softly speaks, "What do you want with my little brother?"

Tamia studies the female's features for any sign of her mood, "What do you mean?"

The lioness stands there with her hands on the wide weapon belt, only inches from readily accessible daggers, "What are your plans girl? Are you going to just use him and hurt him, or do you care for him?"

Tamia looks at the lioness with challenge in her eyes, "I would think you should ask him that. I am the prize after all, not him."

The lioness smirks, "You know so little of him girl. He has been chased by many of his own race, but they only see him as a conquest or a trophy, I doubt any of them truly love him. Do you know how many females would give their first born to be the mate of the War Chief?" She sighs and shakes her head, finally breaking eye contact, "I don't want to see him hurt."

"So the most powerful of your warriors sill needs his big sister's protection?" she asks with more scorn in her voice than she had intended.

There is a blur of metal and in the blink of an eye the lioness holds a naked blade only a hair's breadth from her throat, her face contorted in a snarl. "He may be my War Chief, but even the strongest warrior sometimes needs the help of those who love him to prevent greater harm than any weapon can cause."

Tamia holds still, knowing this female can take her life at any moment as she contemplates her next words. "Do I resent him taking me away from what I know? Yes. Do I wish him any harm though? No I don't." She stares into the lioness's eyes, "Do I love him? I don't know."

Pureat seems to study her soul for a few moments more before she slowly withdraws the knife and slips it back into its scabbard with a snap. "I can see some of what he sees in you. You are not like most humans. Maybe you are the one..."

Tamia starts to breathe easier without the knife against her throat. "I know how the love of a sister can lord itself over other matters. I had a younger brother once too."

Pureat focuses her ears on the young woman with interest, "What happened?"

Tamia shakes her head, "I don't know. He disappeared a few years ago, and I would give a king's ransom to find him again, safe and sound."

The lioness nods and holds out her right hand to Tamia, "Then maybe we do understand each other. Better than anyone else can." Tamia takes the offered hand and the warrior pumps her hand three times, "I am Pureat Whitemane, and I won't ask you to love my brother, but instead I ask you don't hold his nature against him."

Tamia nods and tries to get herself under control again, "I understand Pureat Whitemane."

The lioness nods and when she pulls her hand back leaves a small belt knife in Tamia's hand. "For your use," she gives her a half-grin and wink, "Just don't go using it on my little brother."

Tamia gives her a brief nod and slips the small sheathed knife into her robe. Pureat gives a final nod and disappears from view as quickly as her brother had. 'Such an interesting culture,' she thinks to herself as she returns her attention to the mare.

* * *

From the back of his mount Metaro surveys his troupe of warriors and nods slightly. 'A day's rest is what they needed,' he thinks to himself as he circles his hand over his head and gives the signal to move out. The point rider kicks his mount into motion and they start the long ride home. 'Three more days, then my rest will be over and it'll be time for my testing.'

Tamia sits easily on her horse next to his and watches him closely. She was surprised that he had untied her reins from his own saddle and handed them to her when he had helped her up onto Shile's back. She keeps Shile next to his massive Blizzard with a gentle hand and when he looks down to her he nods for her to follow him. With gentle kicks they ease their mounts into the line of horses. The warriors manning the gate give salutes to the departing warriors that they return in kind. She notices Pureat standing on the battlements over the gate and waving to them as they pass through.

Looking up at the warrior next to her she asks, "What's next?"

He gives her a gentle grin, "Three day ride, not too hard, but it will be steady and when we reach the village most of our warriors will be seeking the warm springs in earnest." He pats his battleaxe lightly, "But there are dangers around, so don't stray far from me or the rest of the warriors. We'll protect you and the others."

"What kind of dangers?" she asks him curiously.

"The dire wolves for one that you've already seen, but there are more then I could ever name in these mountains. The biggest danger would be a white-out storm settling in on us while we're on the trail." He tries to calm her fears with a friendly grin, "Some are worse, some are better, but let's hope we can avoid them all hmmm?"

She looks out into the snow blanketed forest on either side of the wide trail they follow. "This is a beautiful land," she says quietly and gets a nod from him in return.

"I hope you'll like it even more when the snows recede to the highest peaks and the valleys green with new growth in the spring." He looks down at her and reaches out a hand to gently caress her cheek. "Course, it still won't be as beautiful as you."

She blushes lightly and hides her face as Murri pulls her horse up beside them, "War Chief, I'm sending scouts ahead to check the trail."

Metaro nods in agreement, "Good idea, the outpost's commander told me they had been having reports of heavy dire wolf activity in the area. Warn the point warriors to keep their eyes open for any signs."

Murri nods and looks out at the white woods around them, "I can't wait till we get home."

The large white warrior nods his shaggy head, "I know the feeling my friend. Only a week and we've been too long gone from our families."

Murri looks like she's about to say more but bites her tongue and giving Tamia a polite nod, rides off further up the column, Heror guiding his horse behind hers also gives Tamia a brief nod as he passes. Tamia nods back briefly as he passes before she turns back to Metaro and sees him looking back down at her. "What are you thinking?" she asks softly.

"I'm thinking Murri has found a good partner in that human. He seems to have taken to things with us."

She nods and looks after Heror, "He does. He told me he finds your people more honorable than our own. And in some ways so far it seems he's right. You've been far more honorable than our own lords, but that doesn't take much." She makes a disgusted sound, "All they care about is the size of their treasury and the size of the lands they claim are theirs."

The large warrior nods in agreement, "They seek more than they can hold, and so it will consume them, like the slow and fat prey brought down by the hungry predator of the forest."

She looks at him from the corner of her eyes, "Are you the predator?"

He shakes his head, "We're the stronger prey that the predator finds too hard to catch." She thinks this over while she rides next to him in silence.

* * *

As the sun creeps low is the western sky Metaro signals to Murri to find a good location for the night. With quick hand gestures she sends out scouts to find one of the many camping areas that lie along the trails between settlements in the mountains they call home. Tamia watches as the sun's glow turns the clouds red in the west and smiles at the beautiful show marking the end of day.

"The sky looks good, should be no storm tonight to chill us," comments Metaro as he watches her.

She looks up at him and tilts her head to the side, "You're sure?"

He nods, "Yeah, we might get a light dusting in the morning, but nothing heavy enough to bother us. Our sleeping furs are more than enough for these lands."

She pulls the heavy fur cloak tight to her shoulders and gives a slight shiver, "Is it always so cold up in these mountains?"

He shakes his head, "The summers are much milder with snow only on the highest of the peaks. Some of the lowest valleys get warm enough that they're almost tropical."

She hears a whistle and they look up to see one of the scouts waving the others over and through a break in the underbrush along the trail. Metaro calls out a quick order in his native tongue that sounds like a short growl and the riders head for the scout's trail. The trail opens up onto a wide clearing sheltered around the edges by the overhanging branches of the massive trees that ring the clearing. Metaro waves a hand towards one of the larger trees with a thick canopy of needles and little snow under it, "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable. One of the handlers will be along to get Shile in a little bit. I'll join you after I see to some things."

She nods and steers her mare towards the tree he indicated. Stopping Shile in the clear space under its arcing branches she slips from the saddle to land gently on her feet and stretch after a long day of riding. They hadn't even stopped for lunch; instead they had eaten cold rations while still on horseback. It felt good to actually be standing again on her feet for a change.

Turning back to the mare she starts loosening the bundle that was tied behind the saddle before she had been introduced to her that morning. Setting it at the foot of the tree she turns to see the older lioness pulling her own horse up and slipping from its back with practiced ease, "How are you feeling after such a long ride my dear?"

Tamia gives her a polite nod and smiles softly, "Alright, little stiff of course, but I bet most of you are feeling that too."

Metaro's grandmother nods as she chuckles in agreement, "Indeed child, indeed." She removes her own bundle from her horse as one of the smaller warriors comes up and bows politely to them.

"May I take your horses Wise Mother Kitani?" he asks politely and she looks over to Tamia.

"Do you have everything you need off Shile?" Tamia gives a small nod and the older female turns back to the young warrior, "Yes Gratho, if you would please."

He gently takes the reins of both horses and Tamia and Kitani give their mounts a good-night pat before letting him guide them away. As Tamia unrolls the sleeping furs she finds in the bundle she asks quietly, "Your name is Kitani?"

The older lioness nods as she smiles slightly, "That it is, though few use it now days. Most just call me Wise Mother as I am the high shaman for our village." She chuckles lightly, "But you may use my name if it helps you settle."

Tamia gives her a nod and returns thee smile, "Thank you Kitani."

Kitani carries her bundle a few yards away and unrolls her own sleeping furs under the next tree over.

Metaro appears with his own bundles carried over his shoulder, "This looks alright for tonight. Some shelter and secluded enough that we shouldn't be bothered by wildlife or other travelers."

He sets his bundles down and then heads for where a small cooking fire is burning, "You ladies get comfortable. I'll be back in a few with some hot food."

"Is it safe enough to have a fire out here?" asks Tamia.

He nods, "This far in our territory it should be fine, and it will help discourage the wild beasts of the woods from investigating." Tamia watches his armored form walk away then bends to his own bundles and unrolls his own sleeping furs next to her own.

Kitani steps next to her and smiles down at her, "You seem to be getting comfortable with him."

"Let's just say I'm still giving him the benefit of the doubt for now," she replies softly. The lioness nods in understanding and pats her shoulder before she turns back to her own little sleeping area and digs through her belongings.

Finishing with the sleeping furs she hears booted feet behind her and turns to see Metaro coming up with three skewers of meat, "One of the hunters caught some fresh meat." He hands her one of the skewers before he walks over to his grandmother who gives him a smile as she takes one too. He comes back to sit on his sleeping furs and bows his head politely to her, "Thank you for laying out my furs for the night."

She takes a bite of the hot meat and swallows it before answering, "You're welcome. I just thought I'd help since you were getting our food."He nods again in thanks as he digs into his own skewer of meat.

As they finish the simple meal a female Tamia recognizes as Murri and a male warrior she doesn't recognize come up with serious looks on their faces. "What is it?" asks Metaro.

"We've found tracks," Murri reports with no humor.

Metaro takes a pull from his water bottle before offering it to them, "Of what?"

Murri looks over at the male next to her and says quietly, "Tell him Juris."

The male warrior clears his throat, "Snow Tiger, War Leader, biggest tracks I've ever seen." The few chatting within ear shot go quiet at the words from the warrior. "Is it the Trial, War Leader?"

Metaro looks down as if he's studying the ground, except that his eyes are closed. "It would seem the fates are eager for me to settle this."

Kitani comes over and looks at the two standing warriors with an anxious look, "Are you sure of this Juris? There is no way you could be mistaken?"

He shakes his head, "It seems to have been prowling around here within the last hour or two. It's here now Wise Mother." He looks back at Metaro and bows his head, "It must be here for the Trial, there is no other reason for such a creature to come so far down from the peaks."

Kitani looks down at her grandson, "The gods seem to want you tested sooner than I thought they would. But you are the one who must decide to enact the Trial. No one can force you to accept your fate."

Metaro sits there for a few moments, the silence growing as other warriors in the camp realize something is going on and look over. Without a word Metaro reaches up and with deft fingers and tugs starts to remove his armor. "It seems the gods will not wait for our return home before testing me."

Murri and Juris help him to quickly remove his armor and weapons. Tamia steps up next to Kitani and speaks quietly, "Is he really going to do this unarmed and unarmored?"

The older lioness watches her grandson with a worried look and nods, "It is the laws of the Trial. This is a meeting of natural forces, those in him, and those of the wild."

"He is your own flesh and blood, isn't there anything you can do to help him?" she asks as she turns her head away from the now nude form of the white feline warrior.

The lioness shakes her head sadly, "The only thing any of us can do is pray and hope."

She moves to grab Metaro but finds a gauntlet holding her shoulder and Murri's voice whispering in her ear, "Don't interfere girl, this is his choice. He needs to stay focused to succeed."

Tamia watches as he slowly stands and looks past them into the snowy forest around them. Throwing his head back he lets loose with an ear splitting roar that causes everyone to flatten or cover their ears. As the echoes of his challenge die away they all hear the faint response to his challenge, a roar that matches his own but at an extreme distance.

Kitani looks at her grandson and speaks softly, "The challenge is accepted, may the gods watch over you chosen one. And the gods willing return to us as Grand Leader of the Northern People."

Without a word he turns and disappears into the forest with a single leap. His passage is so stealthy that they can't even hear him as he disappears from view.

Tamia lowers her head and says a silent prayer for him while the rest look after their leader who is either going to return to them stronger than ever, or never return again.

* * *

Metaro keeps his senses focused as he races through the trees. His ears had locked onto the distant challenge of the great beast he now chases. His mind wonders what had brought the mighty animal here and now. Is it truly the gods calling him to the Trial, or is it just bad luck?

His body feels different, not entirely his own right now. He can hear a hundred times better than he ever has before. His sense of smell was so fine tuned now that he can still smell the traces of his companions lingering around him, even the faint odor of Tamia's touch from earlier this morning.

With a silent breath he leaps over a fallen tree and lands, balancing himself with one hand on the ground and listens. The forest around him is silent, as if the creatures are silent in respect for what is to come. He lifts his nose and sniffs the air gently. The wind is still and carries no scents to him. 'How am I to find the beast in these woods?' he thinks to himself.

He suddenly hears a slight chuff from his right and ducks behind the fallen tree he had just leapt moments ago. He leaps out of the way as a massive white and black form lands where he had just been. Fire explodes across his back but he stifles the roar of pain as he turns to face his attacker.

He lets a low growl escape his lips as the creature that faces him does the same and they both crouch and study each other.

He sees the giant cat clearly in the moonlight that filters through the trees' canopy of branches and needle leaves. Even crouching, the animal was almost as tall as Blizzard at the shoulder and a good four feet longer in the body alone, the tail adding another eight feet to the feline's total length. The four massive paws show razor sharp black talons expressed to grip the ground under them, one paw with traces of his own blood where the beast's claws had skimmed his back. Saber like killing fangs glint almost silver in the moonlight. And the thick white pelt is broken by curving black stripes that break up the feline's outline and mark it as the creature he seeks.

The beast suddenly lunges at him and he leaps aside again as he keeps his eyes locked with the creature's own. He senses the intelligence of the animal, but also how wild it is. No, not it, she... 'How do I know it's a female?' he thinks to himself as he dodges again to avoid a paw-swipe that would have gutted him like pig and left him dead on the forest floor.

The massive beast slinks around, circling him as they study each other. Looking for some opening that will give the other an advantage. Suddenly he sees an opening he might be able to exploit. He lets his guard down for a moment, only enough to let the feline think he has made a mistake and he waits as she charges him with a leap.

At the last second he slips barely to the side, the long fangs of the feline grazing his upper arm as he grips the thick fur around her neck and with a leap of his own finds himself on the back of the beast. The massive tiger realizes that she was tricked and wide eyed starts to leap around, trying to shake him off.

He holds on tight, his fingers twined into the thick fur and his legs gripping her ribcage. He grits his teeth as she tries to use trees and other foliage to dislodge him. "Calm down girl, I'm not going to harm you," he tries to tell the massive animal while she continues her efforts to lose him.

Fifteen minutes later he grunts as the feline settles onto her stomach and pants from the exertion of trying to dislodge him. He slowly sits up and gently pats the shoulder of the feline between his legs, "There you go. Just rest a little bit; I'm not going to hurt you."

He is shocked when he hears a voice quietly in his head, 'You've beaten me this time Metaro Whitemane, War Leader of the Higier.'

He looks down at the white and black furred feline panting between his legs, "Did you just talk to me?"

She tilts her head to the side and looks up at him out of the corner of her eye, 'Yes.'

This shakes him, but he holds onto his sanity tightly, "How do you know my name?"

'How could I not know the name of my other half? As my sire was beaten by your father, I see the fates and gods have deemed it that you conquer me,' the soft and feminine voice speaks again in his head.

He slowly slips his leg over the massive back and slips down to land on the ground and walks over to her head slowly. "I... I only remember a little of my father's Fanged-Tiger. You say the mighty Critaron was your sire?"

The large furred head nods, 'I am his daughter, Sintan. There are other cubs of my father, but it was I who was directed to come here.'

"Directed? By whom?" he asks as he squats down to gently stroke the large feline's chin.

She closes her eyes and purrs loudly as he lets his claws gently scritch her there. 'By the fates and gods, it came to me in my dreams and the winds told me where to come. Here I found you, but I could not simply submit to you, you had to be tested. Having claimed first blood I thought I had beaten you and became too confident it would seem. If the fates had truly found you wanting, I would have fed on your corpse.'

Normally such a thought would have troubled him, but it seems such an act is just the natural way of things, and since he came through it alive the gods must want them paired in the times to come. "What now?" he asks quietly.

She opens her eyes a slit and peers at him with those crystal blue eyes of hers, 'Now we ride, you as the Grand Leader of your people, and I as the Great Spirit of my own.' With a great heave the feline stands on her four feet and looks down at her rider, 'Come Whitemane, we shall return to your people's encampment quickly where they can tend to your wounds.'

He reaches back to feel and finds that blood is indeed flowing from long slices there and a smaller trickle seeps from the fang wound on his arm. "I had almost forgotten them," he says with a soft whisper.

'You are still in battle fever my rider; soon you will feel the pains.' She crouches herself low to the ground to let him mount as she looks at him, 'Come.'

Stepping up to her side he takes a grip of her fur and vaults himself up to sit easily on her wide back. "Then let's go Sintan." With a mutual roar of victory they bound into the forest again and towards the rest of his companions.

* * *

Tamia watches Kitani and Murri as they sit in front of her and quietly talk in their native tongue. She tries to pick up some of the words but finds it harder than any other language she'd ever tried to learn. Heror had come to sit next to her shortly after the large white leonine warrior had disappeared into the forest beyond the clearing. He leans over to her and whispers, "What are you thinking lass?"

She looks down at her hands where they rest in her lap, "That if he dies I go free, but..."

He nods in understanding, "Still not sure you want him dead just to get your freedom. Most people wouldn't understand your willingness to accept things here." He looks own at her, "Why do you accept all this with so little fighting."

"What good would it do to fight them?" she asks with a hint of annoyance. She looks back at the two females talking amongst themselves and shrugs, "I find their culture an interesting one. And maybe, maybe they can help me with a personal task if they are so bound by honor."

"I'm not sure what you mean by all that lass, just..." he is cut off by a sound from the forest.

Warriors who had gathered around spring to their feet with weapons ready as something in the forest around them roars loudly, "That was quite a distance off," Murri says as she stands near the two humans, her short-sword free of its scabbard and held easily in a trained hand.

Tamia looks up at her with curious eyes, but it is Kitani who answers, "He has succeeded or failed. We shall know soon." She closes her eyes as she folds her hands in her lap. "Maybe the fates have answered our prayers."

The gathered warriors all start and turn back to the woods as something large moves through the trees towards them. They hear a low rumbling before they hear a familiar voice growl orders in their native tongue.

Tamia watches the warriors lower their weapons and look in surprise as Metaro exits the forest riding the very beast he had set out to meet. The massive Snow Tiger between his legs looking around at the warriors like she would eat them all if not for her rider, but also seeming so regal and noble as she surveys them all.

The beast crouches and lets Metaro slide from its shoulders without a spoken word. Those gathered around see the long gashes on his back and his grandmother rushes forward with a small jar. He tries to wave her off but she slaps his hands away and starts to smear the concoction on the bleeding wounds. "You're lucky she only got you a glancing blow young man, anything else and we would have had bad news for your sister." She clucks her tongue as she rests a hand on his back and speaks a few soft words that again can only be heard then forgotten and the paste seals the claw marks. She wipes at the bloody fur with a towel and removes the worst of his blood before she lets him finally turn around to face her.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," he reassures them all as his grandmother glowers at him. He gives her a reassuring smile, "I know, I should have been more careful, but it's all come out alright."

She lets the corners of her mouth curl up slightly, "I'm glad to have you back lad, and I'm sure your parents are proud of you as they look down on us." She gives him a quick hug before she steps back to let him address the others.

He reaches up to stroke the large head of the Snow Tiger next to him and says, "This is Sintan, and I am her rider!" This last is answered by a cheer from the gathered warriors as axes and swords are raised in salute to their leader and his mighty beast.

He looks around at the warriors seeming shy and out of place, "Come now, we have far to go in the morning, and I think we can all use some sleep." There are agreements but every one of the raiders insists on congratulating him personally before they return to their own sleeping furs. Heror goes off with Murri and soon Tamia is standing alone with the large white warrior and his new mount. The tiger looks her over and chuffs slightly to her rider, but he soothes her with a gentle hand, "She wonders why you haven't run from her as your kind usually does."

Tamia steps forward, her insides yelling at her that this creature could rip her into bite-sized pieces without a lick of effort. "She is yours, and I do not fear you, so why should I fear her?"

This earns a low growl from the tiger but she stands her ground, "I don't think she likes the idea that I own her, instead think of it that we have a mutual need and bond."

Tamia nods in understanding before she goes to a small pile of clothes and returns with his cloak, "Here, you better put this on before you catch your death of cold."

He lets her slip it over his shoulders and smiles softly to her, "Thank you." He looks over to where their sleeping furs had been laid out, "Have you slept while I was gone?"

She shakes her head shyly and he nods in understanding. "Come, let us all retire. I meant what I said when I stated we have a long ride ahead of us tomorrow." She nods in agreement and they walk over to their sleeping area together, the large Snow Tiger following close behind.

As the tiger curls herself up to one side of the sleeping furs he notices that their furs have been placed in such a way that they will have to share the top furs. He looks at her questioningly and she shrugs, "It will be warmer if we sleep together." She says it as if she was telling him the time of day and that was all.

He nods in silent agreement and holds up the top fur for her to climb under and get comfortable before he joins her. She cuddles up against his wide furred chest and smiles as he gently wraps an arm over her protectively. "Sleep Tamia, we have much to talk about in the morning."

All characters unless otherwise stated are the property of Christopher Gilman.

Story © Copyright Christopher Gilman 2008 all rights reserved tell me what you think