Drink of Me. Jacquelyn Frank
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fetch the others out of here. Make fast work of the remaining Jakals. I want none to live. Had they left us alone, I might have felt differently, but this lot will pay for what they did to Chayne. The Lord and Lady only know what they have done to this girl as well. Go. Now. Before this monstrosity falls down around our ears. We will meet at the horses.”
Darcio didn’t even acknowledge his orders; he merely turned to carry them out. As he exited the abandoned building, Reule decided he would have it burned to the ground once the snows fell and no spark could harm the dry fields of autumn. Although the house was located in the damplands, surrounded by bogs and marshes, a freak wind could carry sparks for miles until they reached the drier plains. But the house must burn. It was a danger to anyone who entered it, and he wouldn’t rest easy until he knew the useless structure was safely laid to waste.
The blue moon was turning, the pale gold already gone for the night. Dawn wasn’t too far off. He wanted to get the Pack home before the next nightfall, safe behind huge walls of cement and a portcullis of steel. Home. Home to Jeth, the Sánge city, and the provincial lands under his protection.
Chayne had been under his protection, too, one of his Pack, and he’d allowed him to be lost for two days. Reule would have to face the dire consequences of that when they returned to Jeth. He fervently prayed it wouldn’t end in Chayne’s death. Chayne was a valuable hunter. As Tracker, he was the best they had. The storehouses and bellies of Jeth Keep much required his skills. His mother and sister depended on him greatly as well, since both were widowed. They were now his to care for, including his sister’s children. Those young ones revered Chayne. He was Packmate. Prime Tracker. A well-earned honor that placed him at the right hand of their Packleader. Every Jeth child should have such a man to look up to as he or she grew.
Though he could see Chayne’s family fed and sheltered should the worst occur, Reule couldn’t provide the other attention they would need. He wasn’t certain he could give anyone that. What Sánge Prime could? With a burgeoning province to rule, lawmaking, settling disputes, and routing out Jakals, who had the time to think about managing a household, never mind actually do it?
Darkly suffocating thoughts surrounding that topic carried him as he bore the chill of the autumn night and carried his charge to safety. At least, relative safety. By the time he reached the horses, she was even colder than when he’d first found her. She didn’t shiver, though, either because she was unconscious or because she was already too weak. He didn’t know. He didn’t like not knowing.
The horses nickered restlessly at his approach, stomping their thick hooves to express their unhappiness at standing so long in the cold. He approached Fit, his large dappled gray gelding, releasing the girl’s legs and supporting her along the length of his body as he reached for his saddlebags. Before he got the chance, though, he felt the hard butt of an equine head dead center in his back. He staggered and recovered his balance by leaning against the animal. He remained after a moment’s thought in order to use Fit’s heat to help warm the girl. Meanwhile, he turned to glare at the big brown eyes blinking at him in a way that was almost haughty.
“Behave yourself,” he commanded the beast. Fit’s response was a snort and a shake of his head that rattled his tack and clearly told Reule what he could go do with himself. Strange as it was in light of the past hour, the humor touched him and he chuckled softly against the girl’s head of tangled hair as he patted the animal’s shoulder hard, just the way he liked it.
Reule ignored another snort of disgust and was able to liberate a blanket from the saddlebags. He wrapped up his bundle in yet another attempt to warm her, keeping her close to his body and gritting his teeth against the chill of her as he buried her face against his neck beneath his hair. She was so light that he was able to swing up into his saddle while holding her; a swift, powerful movement. The gelding didn’t even take so much as a step in protest and Reule patted his shoulder again. He balanced his charge over the saddle in front of him, bracing her in position between his thighs and leaning on one arm. He reined Fit with one hand, turning the horse experimentally, testing the security of her position.
“All right, my friend,” he said to the animal, “now I need you to take us home.”
Reule finished the request with just the smallest influential mental push. Fit nodded before shaking out his reins and harness, his way of acknowledging the command and his willingness to perform…this time.
When the others finally appeared, Chayne was grunting animalistic sounds of repressed torment even though his Packmates carried him as gently as they were able. They’d bandaged him as best they could, but Reule could see that Delano and Rye were already covered in blood. They’d have to travel fast for the sake of both victims, but it would make the trip agonizing for Chayne.
Reule turned hard eyes onto Rye, who jerked up his head when his Prime’s message reached him and him alone. Rye braced himself as Reule turned his attention onto Chayne. He was gentler this time as he invaded Chayne’s weakened defenses and whispered the soft suggestion of sleep into his mind. He reinforced it just as gently, and the wounded man was ninety percent there when Reule brutally slammed his will down over the other Sánge’s and forced obliterating unconsciousness on him. He knew Chayne would despise having his choices taken from him, especially after he had struggled so long and hard to withstand the Jakals’ torture. However, a mere sleep suggestion would never have lasted. Chayne would have been jarred awake at the first rough pass.
Having the others believe he’d succumbed to exhaustion would be more acceptable in Chayne’s eyes than the knowledge that he’d been mentally manipulated by a stronger male, even if that male was his Prime. Reule had chosen Rye as the only other to be aware of what he was about to do because as the second strongest male in the Sánge people, he was the only one guaranteed to be able to keep his thoughts protected from all the others, including Chayne.
They were under way shortly, soft discussions between riders and their horses filling the predawn darkness as the golden moon faded. It was Delano who rode tandem with Chayne. Delano had by far the most powerful horse as well as the physical strength it would demand of him.
Luckily, the house had been at the leading edge of the damplands, so they slogged through mud and mire for only a short time before hitting the harder-packed ground of the plains. They rode quickly for the distant mountains.
All of this land was Reule’s province—the inhospitable damplands, the fertile flatlands, and the dense and dangerous forests that stretched endlessly behind the riders’ backs. It was all a wilderness, hostile and hazardous, but it belonged to him. Him and his Sánge people. Possessive and protective of it as he was, Reule still turned an impartial eye on any who risked traveling the perilous country. So long as they didn’t harm the land or the Sánge, travelers could pass or even hunt in peace. But the Jakals had abused his hospitality. Reule made a note to himself to check with Saber, his Prime Defender, about the patrols in the outer province. Once the snow fell, there would be no need, but until then…he wouldn’t tolerate his people being endangered by two-legged enemies if they could be controlled by vigilance. There were enough natural dangers in these lands without adding invaders.
Dawn drifted past, as did early and mid-morning, and their pace across the flatlands remained quick and steady. Neither patient stirred during the entire passage. It was just before noon when they entered the Jeth Valley and saw the walled Sánge city of Jeth rising up from its snug position against the Hattera Mountains. The mountain range was infamously impassable, though not so much so to those who dwelt in this valley. Nevertheless, the mountains discouraged marauders and those who weren’t easily cowed by the reputation of the Sánge. Only the Jakals regularly thought themselves superior warriors to the Sánge, and only the Jakals had ever tried to threaten Jeth or its outlying farmlands.
The Pack had been passing farms for the past hour, small wood and brick houses settled warm and snug in the midst of the bare fields, prepared for the coming cold of winter. Stubble from the harvested crops stuck up around them. Steel silos and granaries had been bursting from the excellent harvests, and now the last of the fall shipments were headed out for trade in other lands. The city’s coffers would burst afterward. Other breeds might loathe associating with the Sánge, but they’d always gladly trade gold