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THE ZEEVAN CONFLICT

by Rex Fenris

Chapter 2: Salvation

Vahn gazed out the window of his room. Warm light began to seep through the forest, though the sun still lingered below the tree line. Only a few white, puffy clouds lingered in the sky, remnants of the monstrous storm which had just passed.

Caylen was fast asleep, curled up under the heavy blankets on the bed. The fire had mostly burned out, though a single small flame danced atop the one remaining log which had not yet been fully consumed. It didn't provide much warmth, but soon that wouldn't matter.

Vahn tightened the straps on his leather armor and fastened his sword-belt securely on his waist. He then picked up the last of his things that he had not already packed: his coin purse. Vahn attached it to his belt, looked over Caylen's sleeping figure once more, and stepped out the door. He would return for his pack shortly.

To Vahn's surprise, Tark and Narok were already awake. They had been joined by another, a raccoon Vahn didn't recognize. He looked like a soldier as well, though he was much less heavily equipped than Narok. He wore a set of leather armor similar to Vahn's but of a higher quality and stained black where Vahn's was old, weathered, and brown. They all sat around one of the tables in the dining room.

Tark saw Vahn as he came down the stairs, but didn't rise to greet him. As Vahn approached the table he could see the possum's bloodshot eyes and disheveled appearance. Tark rubbed the sides of his head with both paws, additionally using them to shield his eyes from the sunlight now beaming into the room, which apparently caused him great discomfort.

"Leaving today I presume?" Tark asked. He sounded ill. Vahn nodded.

"Right away, in fact. I've come to settle the bill," replied Vahn. The bear and raccoon both fixed stares on him, as if sizing him up. It made Vahn extremely uncomfortable. Images from his dream filled before he pushed them away. His left paw brushed the hilt of his sword.

"Of course, of course. Come with me." Tark took his time getting to his feet and kept one paw on his head as he did. Vahn was grateful that the other two seemed content to wait in the dining room.

Tark led Vahn through the same door that he had led Narok through the previous night. Behind it was a small but lavishly decorated office. Vahn was impressed by how neatly organized it was. The top of the beautiful oak desk at the center of the room was empty except for a single piece of paper, a quill pen, and an inkwell.

The possum sat down in the large, plush chair behind the desk, picked up the paper, and began to read over it. It must have been the bill. Vahn looked around the room as he waited. The most prominent piece in the room was the oversized family portrait on the back wall. It depicted three possums: a father, a mother, and a young son. Tark certainly didn't seem to be a family man so Vahn assumed it was a picture of his parents and himself as a child. The father had a stern, cold expression and was sharply dressed. The mother's garb was simpler. She stood behind the father and off to the side with a timid expression on her face, eyes lowered. The son stood proudly at his father's side, in front of the mother. The child, probably eight or nine in the picture, was dressed to match his father.

The walls to Vahn's left and right were both made up entirely of cabinets and shelves. At a quick glance he could see they mostly held books, neatly organized bundles of paperwork, and a handful of scrolls. Tark apparently kept very extensive records on all of the money he cheated out of his customers.

"Your total comes to seven silver and fifteen copper," Tark said as he set the paper down in front of Vahn so he could examine it. The coyote's eyes widened. That amount was ludicrous. The possum smiled smugly as Vahn snatched up the bill and looked it over. Two and a half silver per night, such a price was unheard of except at the most elegant of establishments.

Tark was grinning widely as Vahn set the paper back down on the table. "I usually collect the money beforehand, it avoids any misunderstandings. You have to understand that it is difficult and expensive to get supplies brought all the way to my remote establishment. Surely one who is as well off as you should have no problem affording my nominal fees."

Vahn ground his teeth, frustrated, but eager to leave. He wasn't about to argue with the possum with those soldiers outside. He reached into his coin purse, took out the silver and copper coins, and stacked them neatly on the table. When Tark reached forward to take the coins, however, Vahn held his paw over them and looked sternly at the possum, hoping he could come across as a good negotiator.

"There is one other matter I want to settle first," Vahn said. Tark looked confused, and annoyed that he was being kept from his money.

"And what matter is that, young coyote?" The cheerful tone in Possum's voice fading as he grew more annoyed.

"It's about your servant, Caylen."

"What do you want with him? The little bastard ran away last night. He'll be lucky if I don't skin him alive for this. I'm sure I could get a decent price for his pelt," said Tark. The look in his eyes sent a chill down Vahn's spine. He wondered whether or not the possum was exaggerating.

"Caylen didn't run away. I found him outside last night and brought him up to my room," explained Vahn. Tark's scowl faded to a look of contempt.

"I see. I always suspected the brat liked it up the ass. There's an extra fee for that you know. Perverted and unnatural as it may be, he's still mine, and services in my inn are not provided free of charge."

"I didn't sleep with him, you pig!" Vahn spat the words and struggled to keep himself from bearing his teeth, "I took him in because he was hurt, because you beat the shit out of him." Tark smirked. He seemed to be enjoying himself.

"Well, I'm afraid it's no business of yours what I do with my servants."

"I'm making it my business. I demand to see his writ of servitude."

"And why would I want to show you that?"

"Because royal law demands that you show the writ to any citizen who asks to see it. So you can either show me the writ or I'll explain to the Lord of Haldrand that you're running a slavery operation. I'm sure he wouldn't need too much incentive to come here and seize your establishment." If there was any part of the possum that had been amused up to this point, it was gone completely now. The glare he gave Vahn would have been more unsettling if the coyote hadn't already felt that he was gaining the upper hand.

Tark rose from his chair and pulled a small key from his pocket. He opened a heavy lockbox in the rear corner of the room, took out a rolled up piece of paper, and set it down on the table in front of Vahn. "You know quite a lot about the law for a young brat."

Vahn ignored him. The possum's response had given him all the information he needed. Vahn unrolled the document and looked it over. After a year of payment Caylen was still indebted by one and a half gold. Tark stood on the other side of the desk, his tail lashing impatiently. "Are you satisfied?" He reached for the paper but Vahn kept it out of his reach.

"No. I won't be satisfied until you've sold him to me," Vahn leaned back in his chair, trying not to grin too widely. He had Tark right where he wanted him.

"Don't be ridiculous, he's not for sale!" Now it was Tark who struggled to not bear his teeth.

"Of course he is. You're a business man, and I have an excellent business proposition for you. You get all the money he owes you up front, instead of waiting for who knows how many more years to collect it bit by bit. Furthermore, you rid yourself of a rather useless servant, as you have so eagerly described him to me. With the money you get from this, you can buy at least two more servants, or, Father forgive, you could hire legitimate employees, and still have plenty left over. And of course, since you so appreciate my making you this generous offer, you'll extend me the courtesy of a free stay at your wonderful establishment."

Tark remained silent for some time, his icy glare fixed on Vahn. It slowly faded away, and the coyote noticed a small grin flash on the possum's muzzle before his expression became more cordial. "You have the money on you right now?" In response, Vahn took pulled out two coins from his purse, a full gold and a half gold, and set them down on the desk. He could see Tark's eyes widen at the sight of the gold coins. Vahn could hardly believe he was about to part with such an enormous amount of money, but he was committed now. Tark looked down at the coins on his desk and the writ of servitude, and then back up to Vahn. He extended his paw.

"You have a deal," said the possum, holding his paw out. Vahn smiled and shook it. The smile he got from the possum in return made him uneasy. That was much easier than he'd expected it to be. He wondered what had so quickly changed the possum's attitude. For now he wouldn't worry about it. Vahn handed over the gold coins and scooped the silver and copper ones back into his purse. Moments later, Tark had signed the writ for Caylen over to Vahn. The coyote wasted no time in leaving the office. He wanted to be gone from this place as soon as possible.

****

The world was a blur to Caylen when he first opened his eyes. The light streaming into the room was torturous and made his head throb in pain. His muzzle and face were sore from where he had been hit, and the faint taste of blood lingered on his tongue. It took him a few moments to get his bearings and realize that the coyote was shaking his shoulder.

"Hey. Come on now, wake up," Vahn spoke gently. Caylen made a sound that was something between a whimper and a groan and rubbed his eyes. As he looked around the room and finally realized where he was, a sudden feeling of terror overwhelmed him and he shot up in bed, drawing fierce complaints from the throbbing pain in his head.

"Oh no, no, Tark's going to kill me!" He ignored the pain and tried to get out of the bed but the coyote's paw on his shoulder help him where he was.

"Nobody is going to hurt you Caylen, just relax," said Vahn.

"No! You don't understand. He told me to stay outside. If he finds out that I came back in without his permission he'll flog me." Caylen's chest was tight, his heart was racing, and he was having difficulty breathing. How could this have happened? How could he have done something so stupid? The last time he defied Tark's demands the possum had beaten him half to death and broke his arm. He would have to go through it all over again. He didn't want to be beaten again like that. "Please let me go, I have to go apologize, tell him I didn't run away, tell him I didn't mean--"

"You will do no such thing. Tark won't lay a finger on you so long as I'm here." Vahn's reassuring words were lost in the terror that enveloped the cheetah.

"There's nothing you can do! I'm his servant. He owns me!" Tark was going to make his life a living hell for what he had done.

"No he doesn't. Not any more. Listen to me Caylen, Tark can't do anything to you. I promise. Trust me, I'll protect you. Just relax," Vahn's voice and words were so gentle and reassuring that it actually took several moments for Caylen to realize the gravity of what he had said. He sat there on the bed, bewildered. What did he mean Tark didn't own him any more? How was that possible? He hadn't even come close to paying off his debt, and the possum surely wouldn't have given him away. Vahn held up the writ of servitude in his other paw. "See? Here's the writ."

Caylen leaned forward to look at the document. It was nothing but a mess of lines and scribbles to his eyes, but he recognized what it was. It was the piece of paper that let Tark control his life. He had seen it several times before and remembered it clearly. But this time there was more writing on the bottom of the document.

"W-what does it say there at the bottom?" Caylen asked and indicated the most recent addition to the document with his finger. Vahn rolled up the document and put it into his pack.

"It says that you don't belong to him any more. Now I'm sure you have a lot of questions, but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it. So right now I want you to hurry and pack up all of your belongings. You'll be leaving with me today. Do you understand?"

Caylen's eyes filled with tears as the reality of his situation slowly became apparent to him. He leapt forward and embraced the armored coyote in the tightest hug he could manage. "Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" As the coyote returned the embrace, Caylen wanted to hold onto him forever. Never in his wildest fantasies had he dared to dream he would ever be free of this place, and now, like a gift from The Father Himself, his freedom had been laid before him. Sure, he was still someone's servant, but he was free from the monster that had held him captive for so long. At that moment, there was not a force in the all the world that could have convinced him that his future wasn't going to be happier, no matter how uncertain that future may be.

"Come now, go pack up your things. I want to be out of here as quickly as possible," said Vahn. Caylen realized that he had been holding onto the coyote for a while now. He managed to pull himself away from the embrace. The smile he saw on the coyote's muzzle almost made him start crying again, but he didn't let his emotions get the best of him again. Vahn wanted to leave quickly, so he rushed out of the room to start packing up his things.

The cheetah flew down the stairs and didn't even stop to acknowledge Tark as he passed him in the dining room. The possum, bear, and raccoon were all leaned in over one of the tables, whispering to each other. Tark was probably cooking up another one his schemes. They didn't even seem to notice him as he ran by. Being ignored by Tark, instead of being yelled at by him for defying his orders cemented the reality of Caylen's situation. Tark wouldn't beat him ever again. Vahn was going to protect him.

He ran into the small closet that had been his bedroom for the last two years and knelt in front of the wooden box where he kept all of his belongings. He pulled the blanket off of the cot on the floor next to him. The cot was Tark's, but Caylen had bought the extra blanket from a merchant who passed by the inn a few months after he began working there. The one Tark had given him had been threadbare and had barely kept out the evening chill. He spread the blanket down on the floor. He didn't have a pack, but this would suffice.

The cheetah took out his extra clothes, a black shirt and a simple pair of brown pants, folded them neatly, and set them onto the blanket. The rest of his belongings soon followed: a pewter mug and plate, a small knife, an old wooden brush, his small church icon, and a large piece of hard bread that he had been saving. He took the last item in the box, a small leather pouch, and emptied its contents into his paw. A full silver piece and four coppers was all he had managed to save from the occasional tips he had received without Tark's notice. It would be enough to buy food for a while if he didn't eat much and just bought inexpensive things.

He took the very last of his possessions from the cot and held it up in front of him. It was his most valuable possession, both in cost and sentimental value. The plush cheetah doll he held in his paws was of beautiful craftsmanship, and was the last thing his caretaker and beloved friend, Sister Ada, gave him before she died.

"Did you hear the news? We're finally going to be able to leave this awful place! It's so exciting! We have to hurry though, so let's not linger." He gave the small toy a hug and placed onto the pile on the blanket along with his coin bag. He wrapped the sides of the blanket up over the pile to make a small bundle, and then tied it off with a piece of rope.

When Caylen walked back out into the dining room Vahn was waiting for him by the front door, already wearing his pack. The cheetah smiled and rushed over to him. Tark and the others sat at their table and watched the two of them leave. As they walked out the door, the possum called out, "Thanks for your business," in a mocking tone. They both ignored him, and shut the door behind them as they left.

At first, Caylen had no idea what to expect. After they left the inn Vahn seemed to be on edge. He set a fast pace, his ears were constantly up and alert, and he kept looking back over his shoulder, checking the road behind them. The cheetah, having only gotten a couple hours of sleep, and still with a lingering headache, struggled to keep up. The road was still muddy from the storm, which made it even more difficult.

It was an hour or so shy of midday when the coyote finally slowed his pace, much to Caylen's relief. His legs were already sore from trudging through the mud. Vahn, who hadn't said anything since they left the inn, finally spoke up as they slowed down.

"Ok, I don't think they're following us. I'm sorry for the rush, I just got a really bad feeling from that Tark guy and wanted to put some distance between us and that place," Vahn explained. He stopped for a moment and scraped some of the mud off of his boots with the help of a nearby tree trunk. "How are you holding up?"

"Oh, I'm fine," Caylen lied. He was tired and his legs were sore. He wasn't let out of the inn very much so he hadn't done this much walking in a long time. His headache and fatigue were starting to catch up to him as well. He paused for a moment and leaned up against the same tree that Vahn was cleaning his boots on. His appearance must have betrayed his words, since Vahn took his pack off and set it down beside the tree.

"Let's rest here for a few minutes," said Vahn. He leaned up on the tree next to Caylen. There were a few moments of silence before the cheetah decided to speak up again.

"I want to thank you again for what you did for me. I'm sorry I was so upset when I woke up. I didn't mean to yell at you. I was just scared." Caylen lowered his ears and his head. He was ashamed for having acting the way he did toward Vahn earlier that morning. "I won't do it again."

The cheetah felt Vahn's paw on the side of his muzzle. It guided his gaze over towards the coyote. "There's nothing you should be apologizing for. What he did to you was horrible, but it's over now. I'll kill him before I let him lay a paw on you again." There was something about the coyote's voice that soothed all of Caylen's fears. He nodded and even managed a bit of a smile, which Vahn returned. "Let's keep moving. We have a long way to go before we get out of this forest and arrive at Haldrand."

They traveled at a slower pace for the rest of the day, though Caylen noticed that Vahn never did stop looking around to make sure that no one was following them. The sky stayed clear and the storm showed no signs of returning. The air outside was brisk but not too uncomfortable. Caylen followed the coyote several paces back, not wanting to impose himself on Vahn more than he had to. He didn't mind though, as his position behind the coyote afforded him a much better view.

Vahn was about average height for a coyote and stood slightly taller than Caylen did, though Caylen was a bit short for a cheetah. The coyote's posture was perfect, and he carried himself with the form of a soldier but the elegance and pride of a noble, which Caylen still had difficulty accepting that he was not. His gray and brown, black-tipped tail swayed casually behind him as he walked.

It wasn't until the cheetah realized he was staring that he pulled his attention away from Vahn's backside. He didn't want to be rude, whether or not the coyote knew he was doing it. Caylen found it was easier to keep his attention focused on the ground passing by beneath his feet.

Questions about his future began flooding into his thoughts. Where were they going? Would they stay at Haldrand, or travel to some other place? How was he going to support himself? As they continued to travel, these questions lingered. Vahn had barely spoken a word since they had left the inn, and the more time that passed, the more questions burned in Caylen's mind. By the time the sun finally began to dip below the horizon, Caylen was so physically and mentally exhausted that it was all he could do to remain standing.

Vahn lead them off of the road and into the forest. The trees became denser as they moved deeper into the wooded area, and it wasn't until they arrived at a small clearing did the coyote finally stop and drop his pack. Caylen followed suit, setting his bundle down as well. He kneeled down beside it, breathing heavily. It was starting to get colder now that the sun was setting, and the cheetah could see his breath.

"This should be a suitable place to stay for the night. Go ahead and rest here for a while, I'm going to find some firewood," Vahn said as he started walking off, back into the forest.

"You don't have to do that, I can go gather wood," Caylen protested, and started pulling himself to his feet.

"No, that's quite all right. I can tell you're exhausted. Just relax. I'll be back before you know it!"

With that, the coyote vanished into the trees. Caylen sighed and sat back down. He felt so useless. He scolded himself silently. He shouldn't have sat down when he'd put his bundle down, that way Vahn wouldn't have known he was tired. Vahn had been so generous to take him away from that awful place, and now all he was doing was sitting around while the coyote went and did all the work. It was an unusual and unsettling feeling.

The clearing was significantly darker than the road they were just on where the sun still shone down on them. Here, the light was almost completely blocked out by the trees. As it grew darker and the last traces of sunlight finally faded away, the air quickly became much colder. Caylen shivered and rubbed his arms as he sat, waiting.

After a few more minutes Vahn returned with an impressive pile of firewood in his arms, which he promptly dumped onto the ground. He dusted his paws off and smiled down at Caylen. "Can you make the fire?"

"Yes, sir!" Caylen happily jumped up onto his feet and forgot for a moment how tired and cold he was, thrilled to finally be able to do something to help. He collected some large rocks and assembled a fire circle, where he then stacked up some of the smaller branches and twigs that Vahn had collected. "Do you have flint and steel?" Caylen asked over his shoulder. Vahn had pulled a bedroll and blanket out from his pack. The coyote nodded, procured the items from his pack, and handed them to Caylen.

After several minutes and a few frustrating failures, the cheetah managed to get a decent fire burning. It filled the air around them with the pleasant smell of burning pine. He sat down beside his creation and held his cold paws up to the flames. Vahn took a seat next to him and began to warm himself as well. Caylen glanced over at him, and saw a distant expression on his face as he gazed into the fire. When Vahn realized that the cheetah was looking at him, he smiled and seemed to collect himself, though Caylen could still see the stress in the coyote's eyes. Caylen bit his lip and tried to think of something to say. He knew that it was his fault that the coyote was distraught.

"Isn't that armor uncomfortable to wear all day?" Caylen asked finally, unable to think of anything else to say. Vahn shrugged.

"It's not too bad, you forget you're wearing it after a while. It's a sort of a project to take off and put back on again, though. I may just leave it on tonight," Vahn replied distractedly, still gazing into the fire.

"I could, well, I could help you take it off if you'd like, I mean, if you want me to." Caylen posited eagerly, and then immediately wished he hadn't, fearing he had overstepped his bounds. He chewed on his lower lip as the coyote seemed to ponder his offer for a few moments before he responded.

"Sure, that would be nice. It might actually help me relax," the coyote said and turned away from him so Caylen could reach buckles on his back. "If you could undo some of those straps for me that would be great."

Caylen set himself to his new task and worked on locating all of the straps and fastens for the coyote's armor. The hardened leather armor covered most of Vahn's body. As he worked on unfastening each piece, he got an up close view of the equipment. He found numerous cuts and slashes in the armor, and wondered how many fights this soldier had been in. How many people had he killed?

There were so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things that he wanted to know, but he didn't want to bother the coyote who was obviously under a lot of strain already. His questions could wait for later. For the moment, he wanted to do everything he could to help Vahn relax and make him comfortable.

"I'm sorry I've been so quiet, I've just had a lot on my mind," Vahn said as Caylen was still unfastening his armor. "I apologize for being so rude."

"Oh, you don't have to apologize. I can't say how grateful I am to you for what you did." Caylen paused. Should he ask? One question couldn't hurt. "May I ask, how did you convince Tark to give up his hold over me? I still owed him so much money."

"I paid off your debt," said Vahn, nonchalantly.

Caylen froze. Of course. Tark would never have given him up unless he got something in return. Why didn't he think of that before? He sat back down, bewildered, his mouth hanging open. "I don't understand. Why? I owed him so much money. I never did anything for you, I barely even know you. Why would you do something like that for me? I didn't do anything to deserve it."

Vahn remained silent for a while. "I'm not exactly sure why I decided to do it," he said finally, "I saw what you were going through, what your life was at that place. I couldn't sit by and do nothing about it. I've been thinking about it since we left the inn. The Father of the church where I grew up told me something before I left. He told me you have never really lived until you have done something for someone who can never repay you." The coyote finished removing the last pieces of his armor as he spoke.

"But, why me? I didn't deserve this," said Caylen. There was a lump in his throat and tears in his eyes. Vahn put away the last piece of his armor and sat down right beside Caylen.

"I'm not sure, Caylen," Vahn said, "Maybe I just have a soft spot for cute cats," he added, timidly.

The wide smile on the coyote's muzzle was so warming that Caylen thought he might just melt right there. He laughed, or at least tried to. The sound that came out of him was more of a choked cough. Caylen couldn't take it any more. He leaned into the coyote's chest, buried his muzzle there, and cried.

He cried for a long time. The coyote wrapped his arms around him and held him as he cried into the night. Everything that had built up in him for the last two years: all of the memories of the pain he had suffered at the paws of Tark, all of his hope of someday being able to leave that horrible place, and now the final realization of those dreams having come true in such an unexpected way; it all poured out of him at he sat there, held in the arms of his savior.