Slave of Akrona Pt. 05

Slave of Akrona Part Five

by G. Lawrence

The Wolves make their move

This science fiction novel features romance but is light on erotic content. It's the story of a young soldier from Earth captured by an alien species and sent to the mines of Akrona to live among slaves. But this warrior from another world is no slave. The book is being presented in 9 parts.

Recap: The Wolves are making their move to dominate the slave camp, but their initial effort to neutralize Grey has failed. Now he will need to decide what action to take. Warning: This chapter features violent confrontations.

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Chapter Five

BLOOD AND PROMISES

Barris walked with Grey toward the gardens at the southern end of the lake, passing through a dry pasture and a bleak late winter forest. The pace was brisk. Barris saw Grey was worried.

"You could have hurt them, couldn't you? Hurt them bad enough for the pens," Barris asked.

"Pixx and Jasper were taken by surprise. Ravo knows nothing of martial arts. Anyone who takes an opponent lightly may get hurt."

"You beat them easily," Barris said.

"I was trained by a master of the ancient arts. There's no magic to it."

"I think you're better than you say. Maybe even better than Marne."

"I look forward to finding out," Grey confirmed.

Barris saw this was true.

"You should be angry with my father. More than angry. I don't understand why you don't hate every member of Sparrow Camp for betraying you," Barris pressed.

"Your people are afraid. They made a bad decision. I know what it's like to be afraid. I know what it's like to make bad decisions. Once the wolves are no longer a threat, life will be better for everyone."

"You should be angry with me," Barris felt compelled to say. "I suspected something last night, but I didn't say anything until it was too late."

"Your warning was unnecessary. I spent last night on the mountain deepening the blasting holes. When I saw Marne visit the camp, it took no imagination to guess what was going on."

Barris stopped in his tracks, his mouth open.

"And you still made the quarry for us?"

"Don't be fooled. My motives are not altruistic."

"Not what?" Barris asked.

"I didn't do it out of the goodness of my heart," Grey explained.

They walked on, leaving the woods around Sparrow Camp and crossing the ore tracks toward the gardens. It was a gray day, the sun hidden by threatening clouds.

"I understand," Barris said. "If Sparrow Camp is happier, we'll be better neighbors to Deer Camp, who is friend to Ferret Camp. The women will work together in the gardens again. By making quota, we'll have more goods to trade. Soon Bear Camp will feel prosperity, too. They'll also be better neighbors."

"You'll make a good leader someday," Grey said.

"Someday? We're almost the same age, but you're already a better leader than I'll ever be. Better than Ravo."

"I'm not a leader."

"I haven't been your friend, but I would like to be."

"Marne won't like that. You can't be friends with both of us."

"I was never friends with Marne. I pretended to be his friend out of fear," Barris admitted. "I would rather be your friend."

"I don't make a very good friend, Barris," Grey had to say.

"That will be for me to decide," Barris insisted.

Barris smiled and extended his arm. Grey looked deeply into the dark brown eyes and saw sincerity. Barris was not his father. Grey extended his arm, each gripping the other's forearm as the men of the camps did when affirming special bonds.

"Why do we travel to the gardens, my brother?" Barris asked.

"Marne's scheme to acquire me was bold. I'm concerned he may have larger plans in mind."

"It could be true. Spring festival is a good time for him to proclaim power over the weaker camps," Barris realized.

They reached the gardens to find only Myra, Beknar and an observer from Rabbit Camp present.

"Hello, Barris. Nice to see you again. Do you have a new mine?" Myra asked.

"Where is everyone?" Grey impatiently interrupted.

"They went back early to prepare for the festival. Not that many were here today with everyone watching you make the quarry," Myra said.

Grey and Barris looked at each other.

"Only Sparrow Camp came to the meadow. Ravo didn't invite the other camps," Barris said.

"That's strange," Myra remarked. "We didn't see Bear Camp here today, or Squirrel Camp. And only a few watchers from Rabbit Camp. What does it mean?"

"I'm going to find out," Grey said. "Barris, thank you for walking with me."

Barris looked at the empty fields with foreboding before turning back toward Sparrow Camp. After the observer from Rabbit Camp checked the baskets, Grey helped Myra and Beknar carry the food to Ferret Camp. Myra noticed Grey was unusually quiet.

"Shalli is hoping you'll have a surprise for her during the festival," Myra finally said to break the silence.

"What sort of surprise?" Grey asked, watching the trail for danger.

"Spring festival begins the new year. It's a time of singing. Dancing. And mating announcements," Myra elaborated.

"She expects a mating proposal?" Grey responded.

"A woman cannot expect such a thing. One may not presume upon a man in such a way, but she has high hopes. All think it's a good match," Myra said.

"Even you? You've kept your distance lately," Grey mentioned.

"Violence frightens me, but I don't think you enjoy hurting others. Not like the wolves. I'm sorry, I do have reservations, but it's still a good match."

"Do I decide this or the camp?" Grey inquired with some annoyance.

"Don't get into one of your moods. People talk. They wonder. They make opinions. It's only natural."

Grey nodded. He was edgy. Being angry with Myra wasn't going to help, and he appreciated her honesty.

They reached Ferret Camp to find everything normal. The older women were preparing for tomorrow's events, the younger women and girls were cooking or taking care of the children. Garn already had a fruit in his hand, his face dripping with juice. The men had not returned from the quarry yet, but soon would. Beknar and Myra went to put their baskets away.

"Where's Shalli?" Grey asked.

"She went to visit Tak at Deer Camp," Pie said. "They're very excited about the festival. Someone hopes for a surprise."

Pie started to smile before noticing Grey's expression.

"What's wrong, Ben? You look so grim," she questioned.

"Bad karma."

"Is that a food they eat at Sparrow Camp?"

"Karma isn't a food, Pie, it's a feeling. Tell Myra I've gone to Deer Camp."

Of several trails north, Grey took the route through the woods past his private clearing rather than the one veering left to the quarry or right to the gardens. He decided not to pick up a club despite his apprehension. Carrying weapons was frowned upon by the people and forbidden by the Arikhan.

Grey studied the trail for signs of ambush. A sound from behind caused him to spin, ready to strike. It was Myra, running as fast as she could to catch up.

"Ben, what's wrong?" she asked, breathing hard from the sprint.

Grey didn't answer. He turned back toward Deer Camp with Myra struggling to match his pace. Well before they could see Deer Camp's tents, black smoke was rising into the hazy afternoon sky.

"That's not a cooking fire," Myra said.

"It's canvas. Their tents are burning," Grey said, picking up a broken branch from the trail.

They hurried to the shallow flat where Deer Camp had stood for the last eight years. The communal tent was in flames. Two smaller tents were also burning. In the middle of the camp, three women lay sprawled on the ground.

"Bless Sherra!" Myra yelled, rushing headlong into the clearing.

Grey entered more cautiously When he was sure the raiders were gone, he kicked over the smaller tents to put out the flames and pulled down the communal tent, robbing the fire of fuel.

"Court, what happened?" Myra asked, kneeling next to her friend.

"Wolves. They came. Right here, into our camp," Court whispered. "They can't do that. It's not allowed."

Court was bleeding from a head wound. Clubbed. Grey went to the other women who lay unmoving. One was Bab, Sal's mate. Her skull was bashed in. The other was Leet, the young mate of Medim. She had been run through the shoulder by a sharp object, possibly a short knife like the one Lace carried. Her breathing was labored but the bleeding wasn't critical. Grey used a moment to bandage the wound and make her comfortable.

"Where's the rest of your women?" Grey asked, going back to Court.

"They took the children. Ran for the quarry. The wolves have Tak. Myra, I'm so sorry. They took Shalli, too. We tried to stop them. We tried hard," Court managed to say.

"How is Bab?" Myra asked.

"Bab is dead," Grey reported.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Is Leet dead, too?" Myra asked. She tore a piece off her dress to sop the blood on Court's forehead.

"No, but she has a bad injury. Where would the wolves take the girls? Back to their camp?" Grey inquired.

"No," Myra said, tears running down her face.

"Where?" Grey asked.

Myra was overwhelmed, unable to answer. He grabbed her arms trying to shake her out of it.

"Answer me. Where would they take them?" he demanded.

"Their torment pit," Court said when Myra couldn't reply.

Grey examined Court's wound, a hard blow to the left temple. The laceration was bloody but not deep. He guessed she may have a concussion, but hopefully nothing worse.

"Ben, get the men from the quarry. Maybe the other camps will finally help," Myra said through anguished tears.

"There's no time for a war council. Not if I'm to reach this torment pit before they hurt Tak and Shalli," Grey said, getting up to leave.

"Ben, don't. They'll kill you," Court warned, trying to grab his arm.

"They'll try," he answered.

From the smoking debris of the communal tent, he pulled out an oak tent pole. He hefted the shaft, gave it a swing, then a thrust. The balance was good, the thickness just right for a firm grip. Myra jumped up to block his path.

"Where are you going?" Myra asked.

"I'm going after them," he said.

"The wolves are too many."

"I won't know that until I find them," Grey said, trying to go around her. Myra blocked him again.

"There are too many. Wait for the men."

"The wolves aren't keeping the girls a moment longer than I can help it," Grey swore, his eyes blazing with a deadly determination. "I don't know what customs your people use to deal with situations like this. I don't care. I'm using my customs now, and the wolves are going to answer for kidnapping Shalli. They're going to answer for raping Tak. They're going to answer for killing Bab. Anyone who gets in my way is going to get hurt. Do you understand?"

Myra had never seen such an expression before. Not on Ben. Not on anyone. It was a cold, controlled rage. His resolve was firm. Fixed. Unchallengeable. The quiet Ben she had known was gone, replaced by a force of nature.

"I see you now. I see the warrior. And I'm not frightened anymore," Myra said. "It's not hatred or vengeance that makes you what you are. It's love."

Myra stood up on her toes to kiss him on the cheek.

"Bring the girls back safe, if you can," Myra whispered.

"By Sherra's Will," Grey said, gripping the staff as he left the camp.

Myra went to Leet and pulled her into the largest of the surviving tents, then returned to Court, putting a damp cloth on her head.

"My poor Tak. She won't come back to me this time," Court cried.

Myra held Court in her arms, thinking she might be right. And wondering if she'd ever see Shalli or Ben again.

Grey didn't know exactly where the so-called torment pit was, only that it lay somewhere on the west bank of the lake near the marsh. So far, only one path led in the right direction, but that would change once he left the woods. He hoped the trail wouldn't be too hard to follow.

Something moved up ahead. The leaves rustled. Grey slowed in time to see Tak emerge from a brushy ravine. She was naked, scratched by branches but otherwise uninjured.

"Ben!" she shouted, running on the dirt trail and throwing herself in his arms. "Ben, it worked, just like you taught me. Ar wanted to take me first. Alone. I didn't resist when he pulled me into the high grass. Let him push me down. Then, when he was full with excitement, I kicked him. I kicked him hard!"

Grey had expected Tak to be traumatized by the second kidnapping. Far from it. She was frightened, but she had kept her head, fought back, and hurt her attacker.

"You're very brave," he said, taking off his leather jacket and pulling it around her shoulders. "I'm proud of you, Tak. I don't know if I've ever been more proud of anyone."

Tak hugged him, tears just below the surface.

"I wouldn't be so brave if not for you," she said.

Tak looked behind him, expecting to see Nole and Clagg. Sal and Cot. Turk, Burne, Medim, and Hernet. The trail was empty.

"Where is everyone?" Tak asked.

"They'll be along soon. When I leave the woods, where do I find this pit they're taking Shalli to?"

"Follow the ore track toward Bear Camp. It's just past the old pier," Tak answered. She noticed the pole in Grey's hand and looked into his eyes. There was an intensity she had never seen before.

"Court and Leet are hurt. I think they'll be okay, but you'd better go help. Stay at Ferret Camp until this is over," Grey instructed, sliding around her and starting for the lake.

"You should wait. Shalli wouldn't want you to die for her."

"I'm not afraid."

"That's the problem. You're always afraid when you don't have to be, and not afraid when you should be. That's why no one understands you."

"Yeah, I kind of like that," he said.

"This is no time to make jokes," Tak protested.

"My guardian always said I use humor in desperate moments to deflect fear. I guess some things never change," he replied with a grim smile.

"Please, Ben. Please don't. Wait for the men," Tak pleaded.

"I won't wait. Too many have waited too long already," he insisted.

Grey kissed her on the forehead, looked deeply into the dark eyes one last time, and tucked the staff under his arm, running for the ore tracks. Tak watched him go, glanced at the trail south to Deer Camp, but turned to the northwest trail instead.

As Grey emerged from the woods near the lake, he began to formulate his thoughts. Anger was good; it would give him strength, but it couldn't rule his thinking. He didn't know how many wolves he'd need to challenge, and wasn't foolish enough to believe himself invincible. He dug down into the past he'd tried so hard to forget. The answers were there--if he had the courage to find them.

Though he had trained hard in martial arts at West Point, he was never at the top of his class. His best talents were small arms, but there were none to be had. Master Shao said he had a rare ability to reach inside, to bring mind and body together in a way few others could. To ignore fear. To put everything on the line. And he remembered the words of a childhood mentor: no one is better than you. You have the talent, the skill, the experience. Move fast! Strike hard! And if you've got no one to watch your back, send your enemies to hell.

Grey saw the ore track curve north, past the offshoots for Sparrow and Bear Camps. There was a well-worn path along the gardens on his right. Soon the carefully cultivated plots gave way to marshy grasses lining the lake's western edge. Up ahead, on the far side of a broad meadow, he saw a crowd of forty or fifty people. And at least a half dozen wolves.

Maybe most of the people are just watching, he thought, like curiosity seekers at an accident. He had to hope so. Reaching into his belt, he found a rag used to clean his hands in the chemical tent. His pants were still streaked with Leet's blood. He tore the pants leg open, dabbed the rag in blood, and tied it around his knee to make it look like a badly wrapped injury. Then he hobbled toward the loose-knit crowd using the tent pole as a walking crutch.

The first group of people to see him moved away. As he thought, they were only spectators. As he closed to fifty yards, several wolves saw him and passed the word. They formed a line, not for defense, but to enjoy the spectacle of the whimpering coward pathetically limping in their direction. There appeared to be eight wolves in all, seven men and a woman.

With the crowd thinning, Grey could see past the wolves. Adjoining the lake was a dry fishery, three feet deep and ten yards in diameter, with a tall stake planted in the middle. Shalli had been stripped naked and leashed to the stake by a halter fastened around her neck, her hands tied behind her back. She was staring in his direction, deeply frightened.

Marne stood close to the pit, and next to Marne was the biggest man Grey had seen since coming to Karak. The infamous Gronar, nearly seven feet tall with arms the size of most men's legs. Little wonder the wolves felt safe protected by such a goliath.

"Please, masters, let the girl go," Grey called out in his most pitiful voice as he continued to hobble forward.

The wolves laughed and three began walking in his direction. Marne and the others lingered behind, fully enjoying themselves.

"It's the cowardly quarry maker," one of the three said.

It was Ar, always the bold one, walking with a stiff gait from the kick delivered by Tak. The second was Logis. Easy to surprise, slow to respond. Grey hadn't seen the third one before, a husky teenager with unruly red hair. Possibly Marne's younger brother or a cousin. Grey backed up a step, then another, but slowly. The three quickened their pace.

"Please don't hurt me, masters," Grey said, coming to a halt on a flat piece of ground. The three wolves stopped before him, smiling with evil anticipation.

"We'll give him to Gronar, but not until we see how many lashes it takes to make him beg," Ar said, taking a short leather whip from his belt.

"He'll beg before the first stroke, not that it will do him any good," Logis said, reaching to grab Grey's wrist.

The red-headed teenager sought to take the staff, grinning with wolfish confidence, but not so bold as Ar. Grey guessed he had not been a thug long.

"Please, master. Please don't hurt me," Grey repeated. "Please don't--"

Grey whipped the staff around, catching Ar in his already sore groin, and then drove the pole backward, hitting Logis in the face. A spinning swing hit the teenager on the side of the head, the impact cracking bone.

Twirling the staff up and around, Grey struck the last victim a second time and heard the skull break. The youngster fell in the short grass, blood pouring from a torn scalp. The brown eyes glared up in confusion, the teenager looking for help, but there was none to be had.

Shifting back to Logis, who had somehow managed to keep his feet, Grey drove the pole into his stomach, spun it down on top of his head, and kicked him in the face as he fell.

"Stop. Stop," Logis moaned, scratching at the dirt.

For the moment, Grey did, turning back on Ar to stomp the man's left forearm and hearing the bones snap. Then he broke the right forearm with a slam of the pole. The arrogance disappeared from Ar's face, replaced by bewildered fear.

In a matter of seconds, all three opponents were down, injured but not yet neutralized. Grey looked toward the other wolves standing forty yards away. They were staring in shock, so stunned that not one of them had moved. Just as Grey hoped. Their complacency had proven costly.

He glanced down at Logis, took a quick breath, and used the staff as a pile driver to crush his skull. The red-headed teenager tried to drag himself away. Having no personal animosity toward him, Grey killed the boy with a single swift blow to the back of the head. Then he knelt before Ar, who lay curled in the yellow grass.

"Tak told me of your little adventure. Was it fun hurting her?" Grey asked.

Ar looked into his eyes. He saw no mercy there. No trace of the coward. He tried to crawl back toward the lake, his broken arms nearly useless. Grey swung the pole in a high arc and brought it down on Ar's lower spine with every bit of force he had. The vertebrae separated. Ar screamed. And screamed. Ar would be food for the pens.

The five remaining wolves finally reacted, drawing knives and waving clubs. Two of the wolves, young Winso and the female, Lace, advanced on Grey the quickest. He knew their strategy. They expected him to run. The youngsters would delay him until the other three caught up. It would have been a good plan if he felt like running.

Grey did take several steps backward, still pretending to limp, just to egg them on. When the distance between Winso and the remaining wolves was at its best advantage, Grey suddenly turned, whipping the pole around to catch the youngster in the ribs. Winso twisted to avoid a second blow, lunging with a steel knife. Grey spun around and brought the staff down on the boy's neck, knocking him off his feet.

When Lace jumped at him with a short bone-handled knife, Grey ducked aside and swung the staff to strike her behind the knees. Her legs flew up and she landed on her back with a grunt, rubbing her butt and looking at him with indignation. Grey whacked her on the forehead and she fell back in the grass semi-conscious.

Winso staggered to his feet, the knife held weakly in both hands. His eyes were glazed, the movements unsteady. The pitiful sight made Grey sad. The teenager was so badly overmatched, it felt like murder. It didn't stop him from killing Winso with a quick double-handed blow to the head.

Grey saw Marne, Carp, and Gronar running toward him. He turned away from Winso with barely enough time to set himself. Carp swung a heavy wooden club, the blow grazing the side of Grey's head. He sidestepped and delivered two swift blows with the staff, the last buckling Carp's knee, but the man was tough and wouldn't be down long.

Gronar closed in. At first the giant tried for a bear hug, but Grey ducked and faked a jab at Gronar's groin. Gronar bent to protect himself only to leave his head exposed. Grey twirled the staff and brought it down on top of the giant's skull so hard that the end of the pole cracked on impact. Gronar was hurt, but not enough to stop him.

Gronar quickly grabbed the staff and tried to wrestle it from Grey's grasp, surprised to find his smaller opponent so strong. After a desperate tug of war, the end of the pole broke off, leaving the giant holding a splintered stake. Grey jabbed with the length of staff he had left, catching Gronar in the belly, but the monster was close enough to thrust the stake at Grey's throat, cutting him just below the chin.

Ducking out of Gronar's reach, Grey turned to hit Carp in the face with the butt end of the staff, knocking him down again, and then paused to take a new defensive position, keeping all three enemies in front of him. He was breathing hard now, blood running down into his eyes that he needed to wipe away. He had been fortunate so far, but it would count for nothing if he grew careless.

Marne finally made his move, using his long reach to swing a sharp knife at Grey's arm. Grey used the staff to block the blow and countered with a jab at Marne's ribs, hoping to use the jagged end like a spear, but he couldn't get close enough to inflict an injury. Still on the ground, Carp made an effort to grab Grey's leg, forcing him to wiggle free. Marne moved in from the left. Gronar came straight ahead.

Grey backed away from Marne and Carp, bracing himself for Gronar's charge, but he wasn't sure how to stop him. The sheer mass of his enemy caused Grey to wonder if he could be stopped. Several ideas ran through his mind. Advice from Master Shao. Techniques taught by Peter Wingfoot at the academy. The Biblical tale of David and Goliath. Grey glanced around, wondering if there were any good stones to be found.

Suddenly there was a blinding pain in his back. A momentary numbness in his right arm. Grey twisted around to see that Lace, kneeling on the ground behind him, had stuck her knife in his right side just below the ribs. She was preparing to strike again.

Grey shifted the staff to his left hand, using it as a club to cave in her skull, then backpedaled away from Gronar and Marne.

"She got him!" Marne shouted.

"Save some for me," Gronar said, his deep voice hardly more than a brutish grunt.

"No, he's mine," Carp said, rushing to get at Grey first.

Grey wasn't sure how bad the knife wound was, though he could feel blood running down his leg. The blade had missed the spine, but if it found a vital organ, his life was measured in minutes.

"Maybe we can talk about this. I'd still like to be friends," Grey said, slowly backing away while trying to catch his breath.

"We'll show you friendship, wolf style," Carp muttered, taking a step forward.

It was the last thing Carp ever said. With a flick of his wrist, Grey brought the broken pole up and flung the splintered end deep into the tall man's throat. Carp fell back, hands grasping at the staff, twisting on the ground as he suffocated in his own blood.

Marne knelt at Carp's side but was unable to help, anguish in his expression. Grey guessed they had been close friends since childhood. Partners in crime. No doubt they had spent countless hours at the campfire boasting of their foul deeds. There would be no more campfires for Carp. No more boasting. No more deeds. Marne's grief gave Grey a great deal of satisfaction.

"Have you guys always been this stupid, or are you just having a bad day?" Grey asked, pretending the pain didn't matter.

But he gasped for air so hard that his enemies weren't fooled. Marne stood up from his friend's body. Several wolves lay dead. The ones that weren't dead were dying. Only he and Gronar remained. Marne had his steel knife. Grey had Lace's knife. Gronar pulled the long end of the broken staff out of Carp's throat and turned on Grey with an angry snarl, ready to run him through.

"You're going to die hard. I'll make an example of you that will keep the camps in fear forever," Marne promised.

"Hoka hey," Grey answered, retreating two more steps before taking a stand.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Marne asked.

"An ancient saying of my people," Grey answered. "It means today is a good day to die. I've offered my blood to Sherra in exchange for yours. I'm content that it should be so."

Marne came to a sudden halt, believing that such an oath could only have dire consequences. He looked down at Carp, Winso, and Lace. Logis and the teenager lay off in the distance. Ar had stopped screaming, now lying still in the bloody grass. If other wolves were coming to help, they were taking their time.

"He wants Shalli. Let's see how clever he is with a blade pressed against the bitch's throat," Marne said, going back toward the lake.

Grey wanted to cut him off, but Gronar blocked the path and swung the staff at his head, landing a glancing blow.

"You go nowhere," Gronar said, the deep set brown eyes gazing with defiance.

When the giant grinned, the axe tattoos on his big red cheeks doubled in size. Two of his yellow teeth were missing. The man seemed to feel no pain.

"Stand aside," Grey ordered, looking for an opening.

Gronar swung the broken staff, forcing Grey backward. Grey waved the short knife and threatened to throw it, but he could not afford to give up his only weapon. Gronar ducked before realizing he'd been bluffed.

"I kill you quicker now," Gronar said, growing angry.

Anxious to catch Marne, Grey tried to sneak around Gronar, but the giant tripped him with the pole, causing him to fall hard. When Grey tried to get up, Gronar kicked him in the gut.

The fight was not going well. Grey rolled over only to find Gronar standing above him, the splintered staff poised to stake him through the heart. Grey twisted sideways as the jagged tip hurtled down, slicing through his shirt. Grey rolled over again, just barely avoiding a second thrust. With an impatient growl, Gronar put a foot on his victim's chest to hold him in place.

Grey struggled with all his strength, but Gronar's heavy boot had him thoroughly pinned. He slashed with Lace's knife, cutting Gronar's calf several times, but the angle was bad. The wounds didn't even faze him. Gronar hefted the stake and prepared to drive it through Grey's throat.

Suddenly there was a blur of movement. A flying shadow. Grey realized that somebody had jumped on Gronar's back. Thin legs wrapped partway around his huge waist. Slender arms gripped his neck. A wave of long black hair fanned out to fill the sky. It was Tak, a wild look in her blazing brown eyes as she bit down on Gronar's ear.

The giant roared and shook her off, putting a hand to the bloody lobe of chewed flesh. He turned with a vengeance only to find Barris standing behind him, Carp's heavy club in his hand. Barris swung with all his strength, hitting Gronar in the ribs. Gronar grabbed the club and ripped it from Barris' grip.

Tak jumped up and moved to one side, distracting Gronar. Barris jumped in the other direction. Gronar hesitated before reaching for Tak, snagging his thick grubby fingers in her hair. Tak tried to pull away but couldn't get free.

Barris didn't hesitate, rushing forward with a defiant yell and punching Gronar in the nose. Gronar dropped the staff and grabbed Barris by his rawhide jacket, holding him up in one hand and Tak in the other, waving them like rag dolls. For a moment, it looked like Gronar was going to smash the two troublemakers together, but he was suddenly kicked between the legs from behind.

With an annoyed snarl, Gronar dropped his victims and turned to see Grey standing behind him, bloody but ready for renewed combat. Gronar could hardly believe his eyes as Grey snatched up the heavy club and swung, but the blow was easily deflected.

Gronar responded with a lunge, nearly catching Grey flatfooted, but he managed to duck aside at the last second and club Gronar on the back of the head as he stumbled past. The big man fell to the ground, momentarily stunned.

"Marne! Marne, where are you? I'm hurt," Gronar shouted, staggering to his feet. He felt the back of his head, finding blood. His vision was blurred, the earth unsteady. The giant seemed astounded, never before having such an injury.

Grey did not wait for him to recover his composure, swinging for the knee. This time he heard bone crack and Gronar howled, limping several steps. Grey glanced down into the grass and saw the broken staff, the sharp end still red with Carp's blood. He grabbed the weapon with both hands and charged, aiming high for the giant's throat.

Gronar had turned to look for Marne, but the Wolf leader had already reached the dry fishery, hoping to use Shalli as a hostage. A hostage would not help Gronar. He turned back just as Grey drove the broken staff into his windpipe.

Gurgling with painful frustration, Gronar grabbed the staff with one hand even as he swatted Grey aside with the other, then he tried to pull the staff free. Grey found the club again and stood up, preparing to whack Gronar over the head, but a shooting pain in his side forced him to drop the heavy weapon. He fell to one knee, reaching back to where Lace had stabbed him, realizing the wound was tearing open.

Gronar pulled the staff out of his neck and clutched his throat, sucking in more blood than oxygen. Grey lunged forward armed only with Lace's knife, stabbing Gronar in the kidney. When Gronar grabbed his violent foe by the hair and yanked him up, Grey slashed the giant's eye. He almost slashed the other eye but was flung away, tumbling as he hit the ground.

Calling for Marne was impossible, for Gronar was choking. He groped around, looking for help that wasn't there. Grey got up on one knee, took a deep breath, and charged his huge enemy shoulder first, managing to knock him down. Then, gripping Lace's knife tightly in his left hand, he stabbed down with a vicious thrust, finding Gronar's jugular vein. And even then, the giant continued to battle as his life's blood drained away. When Gronar finally stopped moving, Grey rolled over into the bloody weeds barely able to breathe.

"You're hurt," Tak said, coming to help.

Grey removed the rag wrapped around his knee and stuck it over the wound in his back. Barris used his belt to hold the rag in place.

"Get me up," Grey whispered.

Barris reached under Grey's arms to put him on his feet. Grey double-clutched Lace's knife and turned toward the marshy pit.

The crowd of spectators had grown larger, perhaps fifty or sixty, but all were keeping a safe distance. Hardly a word was spoken by anyone. Marne stood in the pit behind Shalli, using her as a shield. She struggled against the leather restraints, the leash still wrapped around her neck. Grey reached the dry fishery first, followed by Tak and Barris. In the distance, from the direction of the ore tracks, two dozen men from Deer and Ferret Camps were approaching. From the north, members of Wolf and Raven Camps were coming, alerted that Marne's effort to cow the southern camps had failed. Hundreds of people were hurrying to see the fight.

"It won't take much to cut her throat," Marne warned, waving the large steel knife.

"Come out and fight. You and me. No weapons," Grey challenged, standing exhausted at the edge of the pit.

"You don't fight fair," Marne declined.

"I'm wounded. That should give you an advantage," Grey lied.

"Ben, don't," Shalli pleaded, more frightened for him than herself.

"What if I decide to cut her throat instead?" Marne asked.

Holding Lace's knife behind his back, Grey transferred it to his left hand. He wouldn't be able to throw right-handed with his side cut open, but he thought himself fairly good left-handed. What he needed was a clear shot.

"If you hurt her, expect to die slowly," Grey promised. "My people have paths to death that a coward like you can't even imagine. You would find the pens joyful by comparison. But that will come later. First I'll kill every man, woman, and child in your camp. They will curse your name before they die. All will know the coward Marne let his people suffer rather than accept a challenge from a wounded man. All the ghosts will fall down."

"The ghosts will do what?" Marne asked.

Shalli smiled. She had seen Grey fight the ghosts. She bumped Marne with her shoulder and dropped to the marsh-covered bottom of the pit. Marne looked down at her in surprise even as Lace's knife was flying through the air, sticking him in the chest.

"What the--" Marne grunted, staring at the knife as if it wasn't real.

Grey leaped from the pit's edge, found his balance, and charged, bowling Marne over before wresting the large steel blade from him.

On his knees, Marne pulled the bone-handled knife from his chest, probing the wound. It was painful but not fatal. But before he got up, Grey plunged Marne's own knife into his back between two ribs. Marne screamed and broke away, crawling to find help from the scores of people rushing from Wolf Camp. Grey staggered after him and stomped his leg. Marne rolled on his back to ward off the assault, swiping wildly with Lace's knife as Grey circled around him looking for an opportunity.

"Stay away! My people will seek revenge," Marne warned, terrified of the relentless stalking beast.

Grey felt no need to answer, kicking the flailing knife aside and pouncing. The wolf leader tried to throw him off, pounding with weakened fists. Grey pushed the blows aside, gripping Marne's metal slave collar with his right hand, holding the steel knife in his left.

"You don't fight fair," Marne whimpered.

"Tell that to Bab on your way to hell, you goddamn son of a bitch," Grey answered, plunging the knife deep into Marne's throat and giving it a rough twist. Blood spurted in every direction as the wolf leader struggled beneath him. Air bubbled through the ragged hole. After a moment, Marne stopped twitching. The eyes rolled back in a lifeless stare. Grey sighed with relief.

"Ben! Ben!" Shalli called out, still tethered to the pole.

Grey crawled over to cut the bindings loose, glad to see she wasn't hurt. Apparently the wolves hadn't had time to exploit their captive. Then he slumped slowly to the ground until Shalli caught him in her lap.

"They haven't killed you. I won't let you die," Shalli cried, holding him tightly.

"The wounds aren't so bad. A few stitches will make everything better," Grey said, sure he could stand up if the dizziness would go away.

"You bleed like a stuck quail," Shalli complained, showing him her hand where blood ran generously through her fingers.

"Don't worry, Marne wasn't able to kill me. It's not an easy thing to do," he said, sickened by the dank smell of the pit. Barris helped him to his feet, loaning an arm to keep him steady.

"Never has such a thing been seen," Barris observed.

From Marne's body in the pit to the bodies of Ar and Logis fifty yards away, eight wolves lay dead or dying. It was a field of unprecedented carnage. When Grey turned to scan the spectators silently watching the battle, they retreated from his gaze.

Members of Wolf Camp reached the pit, expressing shock and outrage, but at the same time men from the southern camps arrived, and not far away, the men of Sparrow Camp were running to help Barris. People in the crowd from Bear Camp and Squirrel Camp began a subtle shift away from Wolf Camp. The people of Raven Camp left the scene entirely. Wolf Camp was isolated, their best fighters dead, and for the first time in memory, they were outnumbered. They turned and ran.

Grey went the other direction, limping to a grassy beach not far from the old pier where he sank painfully to the ground. He didn't think he had been wounded too badly. Then again, he could be wrong. Clagg and Nole came forward. Shalli started to wash off the blood using water from the lake.

"You've made much food for the masters," Nole said, thoughtfully considering the ramifications.

"I don't know if this is a good thing," Clagg worried.

"Now we must call a council. They won't say no this time," Nole insisted. "We should call it for sunrise so the festival won't be spoiled."

Grey looked at Nole in surprise, amazed the festival was on his mind at such a moment, but then he reconsidered. The people had so little to look forward to, and spring festival was that rare event everyone anticipated all year long. He couldn't blame them.

"Should I return to camp?" Grey asked, unsure if his membership was now a liability.

"You're not going to move," Shalli said. "Wart, go back to camp. Bring the bag of medicines. Get a tent and blankets. We'll stay here at the lake tonight."

"That's not necessary," Grey said, trying to get up.

"I'll decide what's necessary," Shalli demanded.

Grey was quickly stripped of the bloody clothing, laying on the grass as half a dozen women gasped at the cuts and bruises. Not that the injuries were bothering their patient. The wounds seemed like old business to him. Pie went to wash out the stains, hanging the torn garments on a tree branch. Others began tearing strips of cloth from their outfits to use as bandages.

"Don't make such a fuss," Grey moaned, not happy with the attention.

"You stay quiet," Shalli ordered.

After inspecting the battlefield, Clagg and Nole returned to find their injured friend surrounded. He was awake, though not alert. Perhaps dazed.

"Marne and his gang are dead," Nole confirmed. "We've not seen any of the masters yet."

"Clagg, have someone put the bodies in an ore cart," Shalli instructed. "Roll them to the gate before the masters come looking."

"Father, we must be sure Wolf Camp doesn't come back," Tak said, taking a shirt from Burne and wrapping it around Shalli's bare shoulders.

"They won't come back. Ravo and Jarten are following them. Their whole camps are following them. Most of Deer and some of Squirrel Camp, too."

Grey heard what Nole said but didn't think much about it. He was just glad the trouble was over. The wounds ached, and without a pain killer, all he had was cool water that Beknar brought from the lake.

The sun was setting as Burne and Hernet arrived with a tent and sleeping furs, Wart having arrived earlier with the medical kit. Shalli had them set up camp near the southwest corner of the lake. Grey was relieved when he was able to take a painkiller. He also had Tak sit before him while he scrubbed out her scratches, and he sent Myra instructions for treating Court's head injury back at Deer Camp, telling Nole to keep her still for a few days. Leet's shoulder would take more time, but Grey had no doubt the treatments he advised would prove effective. Akrona had been a primitive world before the Arikhan arrived, and though the Arikhan were not inventors, they were good at adapting technology from other planets.

The medical kit was a good example. The bag had everything a battlefield medic would want, and Grey had his fair share of training. What proved unfortunate was that he couldn't treat the injury to his back, the stab wound out of reach. And too deep to ignore. Shalli and Tak tried to help, taking turns with the suturing, but it seemed to get worse instead of better. After awhile, they were forced to give up, putting a bandage over the stitching and hoping the bleeding would stop. It wasn't until Grey woke from a light sleep an hour later that he noticed the fires.

"What's going on?" he asked, smelling smoke and seeing flames on the north side of the lake.

"The people are angry with Wolf Camp," Shalli said, sitting on the ground watching over him. Grey noticed all the men and many of the women were gone.

"Help me up," Grey said, reaching for Tak.

"You shouldn't move. The stitches could tear open," Tak warned.

"The canoe tied at the dock. Does it still float? Is there a paddle?" Grey asked.

"It belongs to Rabbit Camp," Beknar said with disapproval.

"I'm going. Help or don't help," Grey persisted, struggling to his feet.

Shalli and Tak helped him up until he had his balance. He picked up a spare tent pole, tucked Marne's knife in his belt, and limped toward the dock twenty yards away. Shalli and Tak followed.

"What are you going to do?" Shalli asked as she and Tak helped him into the canoe.

"I'm going to stop this," he said.

"You won't be able to. The people have been suffering for years. Wolf Camp has much offended," Tak said.

"Mob violence won't benefit our camp. It won't benefit the other camps. It will just create another group like Marne's," Grey responded.

"There's always someone like Marne," Shalli replied.

"Not when people have the courage to prevent it," he insisted.

The canoe glided over the passive water, Shalli and Tak using the paddles. The surface reflected the stars and one of the moons. Light came from the guard station far to Grey's right, beyond the darkened Rabbit Camp. Up ahead, several fires lit the area where Wolf Camp stood at the mouth of a deep canyon. Somewhat to the left, torches and campfires marked Raven Camp's location.

When the canoe reached the north shore, Tak jumped out first to assist Grey from the boat. He didn't feel the help necessary. The drugs had given him a boost, and the stitches were strong enough to hold provided he didn't do anything rash. Like walk fast or twist suddenly. He decided maybe a little help wouldn't be so bad.

As he stepped out, Grey leaned on the staff and turned to tell the women to take the canoe back. Each was holding a paddle, ready to fight. He didn't try to talk them out of it, knowing neither would listen.

Wolf Camp was thirty yards back from the lake at the mouth of a large canyon, a sprawling collection of tents and several well-built cabins. Grey guessed a hundred and fifty people lived there, though few were evident. There was no mob. Hardly any noise. Just two burning cabins and a makeshift bonfire.

They entered the camp finding discarded objects and overturned tables. If there was a fight it hadn't lasted long. Toward the rear of the camp, not far from the canyon, they found several dozen women and children huddled in the brush.

"Where are your men?" Shalli asked, shocked by the fear in their eyes.

"They left us. They ran to Raven Camp," one of the women said.

"Is anyone hurt?" Grey asked.

"We hid. They had clubs," an older woman said.

"They'll kill us all!" another cried.

"Our camps don't kill women and little ones. We're not like Marne," Tak said.

"Marne never harmed women and little ones," the first woman defended.

"Marne and his wolves hurt Tak and many others," Shalli replied. "They murdered Bab. They attacked Court and Leet. They robbed and terrorized. You lived well while Marne's victims went hungry. Do you think we're stupid?"

"Please don't hurt us," a young woman begged, clutching her baby.

"The mob has moved on," Grey said to Shalli and Tak. "How do I reach Raven Camp?"

"The lake trail is easiest at night," Shalli said, pointing toward the distant torches. There was enough light reflecting off the lake to make out a well-worn path near the water.

They soon reached Raven Camp, the women leading the way. Grey found an angry mob being held at bay by a crude log barrier. Though much of the mob was shrouded in darkness, he guessed their numbers at several hundred. Beyond the barrier, he saw the men of Raven Camp and refugees from Wolf Camp. There was a great deal of shouting and insulting going on, the mob trying to gain courage for the assault, Raven camp and the refugees trying to scare them away.

Shalli noticed Grey frown as he marched toward the confrontation, the staff nimble in his hand, his eyebrows narrowing with determination. Her eyes widened while her heart beat faster. Shalli wasn't afraid. Not of him. Not for him. He was a champion. A warrior. He had held up the mountain, fought ghosts, talked with the gods, and destroyed Marne's wolves. And he belonged to her.

The two sides were standing ten yards apart, a few throwing stones, most waving clubs or shaking fists. Torches lit the mob, bonfires showed the readiness of Raven Camp to defend itself. Both sides fell silent when Grey suddenly appeared in the open ground between them carrying the staff in his left hand.

"What seems to be the problem?" he asked, studying both groups.

Yelling broke out but he raised his hand for silence, walking up and down the agitated battle lines. Once the crowds were focused completely on him, he stopped before the log barrier.

"My name is Ben. I would speak with the camp leaders," he said.

It was not a request.

"I am Sharlot, leader of Raven Camp," a tall, broad-shouldered female said. She was about Clagg's age with long auburn hair, a wide flat face, and intelligent brown eyes. Raven Camp's leader stood bravely in the firelight, but she looked stressed.

The refugees milled about in confusion until an older male stepped forward, his thin hair prematurely streaked with gray.

"I am Vester of Wolf Camp," the shaken man said, representing the leaderless camp. He was clearly afraid. They all were. Even more so, now that the slayer of the wolves stood before them.

"Several camps are angry with you," Grey said. "Other camps seek opportunity in your downfall. Will you agree to have their grievances arbitrated?"

"Who will judge?" Sharlot questioned.

"The leaders and dig captains will meet to seek agreement. I believe we will find suitable compromises. Do you agree to participate, or must this violence continue?" Grey asked.

Sharlot looked at the ugly mob. She had many people to protect. Her goods and food supplies needed to be preserved. There seemed little choice.

"I agree to arbitration," the leader of Raven Camp said.

"Even if we agree, they will not," Vester said, pointing at the mob.

"They will agree," Grey assured them.

"How do you know?" Vester asked.

"Because I'll kill anyone who doesn't," Grey replied.

Sharlot had no doubt he spoke the truth. The way he gripped the staff, and the fierce glint in his eye, caused her to take heed. The Raven Camp leader was thankful she hadn't rejected his demand.

"Wolf Camp agrees," Vester said.

Grey turned to climb on a fallen log where he could address the mob, a twinge in his back telling him some stitches had torn. In the torchlight, no one would notice.

"This is over. Return to your camps," Grey said.

"We will have retribution!" someone shouted.

"Vengeance for Bab!" a Deer Camp member demanded.

"Justice for our daughters!" a third said.

"The leaders will meet on the morning sun. Come to my tent near the dock. We will talk," Grey announced.

"No, we finish this now," a voice yelled from the back.

Grey dropped into a fighting stance readying the staff, scanning the mob for its boldest members as he'd been taught so long ago. Against the backdrop of the bonfires, many thought he looked like a hawk searching out the most vulnerable rodent in the field.

"If violence is what you want, let your leaders come forward first," Grey said, giving the staff a dramatic twirl. "But expect no more mercy than I gave Marne, because you don't deserve it."

"We don't want to hurt you, friend," Bear Camp's leader said.

"Don't worry, Jarten. You won't," Grey answered, holding the staff steady before him.

The mob hesitated. Grey knew all they needed now was a push in the right direction.

"Clagg, Cot, Hernet, my companions in the mines, often have you called me brother. Where stand my brothers now?" Grey asked. "Nole, people of Deer Camp, you have called me friend. Tonight you must prove it. Ravo, you have boasted of Sparrow Camp's gratitude for the quarry. Now you may show it. Jarten, you asked for my friendship to make a quarry for Bear Camp. Prove to me now what Bear Camp's friendship is worth."

The mob muttered, Ferret and Deer Camp being the first to disengage. Clubs and stones were dropped to the ground. Shalli and Tak came forward, then Barris, Turk and Burne, all of the youngsters ready to fight at Grey's side. Even little Wart held a tree branch.

"We will have a council," Nole said, leader of the most aggrieved camp. "Everyone, leave this place. Remember we have spring festival. The children and women must not be disappointed."

The crowd broke up, disappearing into the dark night. Clagg and Nole came forward as Tak helped Grey down from the log. Tak felt the blood and showed her hand to Shalli, but neither woman said anything. When Sharlot climbed over the barrier, Jarten and Ravo came forward.

"We will meet as Ben said, at the old dock when the sun rises," Sharlot promised. "Wolf Camp will want their property returned."

"Will Wolf Camp return Sal's mate to him?" Nole asked.

"Marne is dead. The debt is paid," Vester said, reflecting Wolf Camp's bitterness.

"No debt is paid so easily," Nole insisted.

"Enough for tonight," Grey said. "We'll discuss these problems tomorrow. They will be resolved to everyone's satisfaction."

"And if they can't?" Old Ravo asked.

"Then I'll resolve them to my satisfaction," Grey concluded.

* * * * * *

The first day of spring festival was subdued, but when the leaders returned to their camps for the midday meal, hopes soared that the next two days would be better.

"Never have I seen such a thing," Clagg said, sitting down with his camp to explain the decisions. "Ben permitted no shouting and only a little argument. He listened carefully, asked many questions, and then told each leader what they would agree to. He didn't ask if they agreed--he told them." Clagg laughed heartily. It was a good joke.

"Will there be peace between the camps?" Myra asked.

"Yes, for now," Clagg answered, taking her into his arms and holding Garn on his knee. "Property will be returned or exchanged. Even Raven Camp has agreed to give up some of what they've taken. And Ben will help each camp find better ore in time to make spring quota. Everyone gives up something but gains more. I think Ben has done this before. He speaks like one accustomed to being heard."

"He's not so meek as many believe," Myra mentioned.

"With Marne now food for the masters, the fear is gone," Cot said. "The young women will return to the fields. The camps will have visitors. Many are going to the lake tomorrow to revive old friendships."

"We should all go. Take our food and the children. A few of the tents," Myra said.

"And the mauck," Hernet added.

"Let's not wait for tomorrow. Shalli is there with Ben. Let's go now," Pie said.

Everyone burst into activity, it having been many years since such an event was possible. They had just finished packing when several unexpected visitors arrived, led by Nole and Turk.

"Nole, what brings you here?" Myra asked.

"We've come to help carry your camp to the festival," Turk said with a smile. A smile that grew bigger when he saw Pie, who blushed.

"But we only just decided. How did you know?" Beknar questioned. The visitors from Deer Camp laughed.

"Everyone's doing it. Even Raven Camp. Bear Camp arrived just as we finished setting up. Many are gathering wood for bonfires," Nole reported.

"It's going to be the best festival ever!" Turk boasted.

The food, tents and children were quickly gathered up, the people excited to reach the lake as soon as possible. As they started on the trail north, Nole fell back to speak privately with Clagg and Myra.

"Ben does not thrive," Nole said. "Even with the medicines, the wound continues to leak blood. Tak and Shalli have tried to sew it, but I'm afraid they made it worse."

"It's my fault. I should have looked at it last night. I was so busy worrying about Court and Leet that I didn't think of going to the lake," Myra said.

"I should have, too, but we needed the remembrances for Bab," Nole explained. "Someone said Thal should be asked to help, but no one knows her demands."

"Or if she can be trusted," Clagg warned.

"I could speak with her. Ask what she wants," Myra said.

"Someone should, but someone also needs to speak with Shalli. She guards Ben's tent like a she-bear and won't have Thal anywhere near," Nole reported.

"I will speak with Shalli," Clagg suggested.

"She's in love, Clagg. Truly in love for the first time. Speaking to her won't be easy," Myra said.

"Then I will spank her," Clagg insisted.

They reached the campground, finding dozens of tents arranged in a big circle around a huge stack of wood. Several camps were merged together sharing campfires and babysitting duties. Clagg took his people to a gap between Squirrel and Bear, two camps they hadn't visited for some time, and quickly set up the tents. It wasn't long before crowds were circulating to renew old acquaintances, often with apologies for the missing years.

Set back from the circle, in the large canvas tent used for the council meeting, Grey lay on a grass mat pawing through the Arikhan medical kit. But it wasn't the medicines that were failing, it was the poor surgery.

Shalli, Tak, and Barris sat with him telling stories of festivals past. Grey found the tales interesting and laughed at many of them. He was not in pain because of the drugs, but the continued seepage was causing concern.

"Maybe we should call Thal?" Barris dared to suggest.

"No, never. Ben put black hands on Thal. She'll never forgive the humiliation," Shalli said. "She could poison Ben and seek protection at Raven Camp. They are the strongest now. If not for Ben, they would dominate like Wolf Camp did."

"They aren't so bad," Barris said.

"You said that about Wolf Camp," Shalli reminded him.

"I was afraid of the wolves. I'm not afraid of Raven Camp," Barris said. "And no one will ever permit another Marne. Ben has shown us that Marnes only exist when we allow them. We've all learned. Bad things like that will never happen to our loved ones again."

Barris looked at Tak, who dropped her eyes and blushed. Though they tried to be subtle, Grey noticed Barris take Tak's hand. They seemed happy. Shalli noticed, too. Grey hadn't known it before, but Tak did not run back to Deer Camp like he asked. She ran to Sparrow Camp instead, which was closer, and met Barris on the trail. They had jumped Gronar together. Grey suspected they would be doing more together in the very near future.

"Maybe we should ask Thal for help?" Tak said after changing another blood-soaked bandage. She showed the bandage to Shalli. Shalli still refused.

"The bleeding has slowed. It will stop eventually," Grey supposed.

"We would like it to stop now instead of later," Tak replied.

Outside the tent, bonfires were lit. Singing began. Food and ale were being served. Soon there would be dancing and the playing of log drums.

"Enjoy the festival. I'm going to sleep for awhile," Grey said, rolling on his side to find a more comfortable position.

"I like it here," Shalli said, making a pillow from a folded fur.

"You keep me awake," Grey complained.

"If you hadn't turned your back on Lace, we would be dancing tonight. Maybe we would be doing more than dancing," Shalli suggested.

"Everyone does foolish things," Grey responded, resting his head.

Barris led Tak from the tent, walking toward Raven Camp's lodgings near the woods.

"What are you going to do?" Tak asked, walking quickly to match his rapid pace.

"I don't know. Not yet. But I know what needs to be done. I'm going to think like Ben. He doesn't always know what to do, either. He watches, listens, and then does what's necessary."

"You're going to talk with Thal, aren't you? Shalli won't like it. Ben might not like it, either."

"Ben is my friend. My brother. I will fight for him whether he likes it or not."

An hour later, Tak ran through the camp waving her hands. Both moons were up, one red on the eastern horizon, the other hanging yellow in the dark sky, partially hiding behind a gray cloud. A large bonfire was burning rotting timbers leftover from Sparrow Camp's abandoned mine. Myra stopped Tak outside the council tent.

"Child, what's wrong?" Myra asked.

"Thal is coming," Tak said, eyes bright with excitement. "She says to make boiled water and clean wraps. And we need lanterns. Lots of lanterns."

"Shalli refuses her help," Myra warned. "I'm worried, too. Thal's pride may cause her to hurt Ben. What demands has she made?"

"You'll see. Shalli will see, too. Everyone will see!" Tak shouted.

Tak went inside the tent. Shalli looked up from a half-sleep, lying cradled in Grey's arm.

"We must move outside," Tak said.

"Why?" Shalli asked.

"Thal is coming. She's going to stop the bleeding," Tak answered.

"No, she will not come," Shalli refused.

Tak knelt down to take Shalli's hands. "Am I not your friend? Do I not love Ben? Is Barris not his friend?"

Grey woke up and twisted against the irritation. The drugs were wearing off. He had hoped the dosage would last longer.

"Thal comes," Tak said to him.

"Thal's a witch doctor. She upsets the women of Ferret Camp," he dismissed.

"She can help," Tak insisted.

"I doubt it," Grey said, trying to sit up. He couldn't. His whole body had grown stiff.

"Maybe you should talk less and listen to your friends more?" Tak protested. Her tone shocked Shalli and surprised Grey. He smiled.

"You've grown bold, my little warrior," Grey said, happy to see her with such confidence.

"I've had a good teacher," Tak smiled back.

"We will hear what Thal has to say, if she really comes," he agreed.

The camp outside suddenly went quiet. Grey emerged from the tent hearing only the bonfire, supported by Tak and Shalli. They slowly walked to the ring of tents where hundreds of people were staring at a strange parade.

Two teenagers tapping small drums entered the meadow, followed by Barris carrying Thal's medical kit. They walked slowly with shoulders squared, faces solemn. Scores of people murmured, wondering what it meant.

Ten members of Raven Camp came next, mostly children carrying baskets. The procession circled the campfire before stopping in the largest clearing. Then Thal came forward dressed in a simple white cotton tunic, the skirt short. She wore no sandals or jewelry. Her black hair lay loose around her slender shoulders. The children spread mats on the ground before the fire and emptied the baskets, revealing jewelry, trinkets, and valuables.

"Look, Myra, it's your mother's bracelet," Pie said, pointing to a shiny circle of silver.

"And my favorite scarf," a woman noticed.

"Falat, look, there's my lynx tooth necklace," another remarked.

Thal raised her hands for silence as the bonfire crackled behind her, filling the moment with drama.

"You see here what I've taken in payment for my skills," Thal loudly announced. "It is yours once more. Reclaim that which was taken from you."

Then, to everyone's astonishment, Thal took off the cotton tunic and flung it into the fire, standing naked before the dancing flames. On her body, visible to all, were black handprints on her breasts and buttocks.

"More than any other, a healer knows what it is to wield the power of life and death, and must be tempered by that knowledge," Thal loudly declared. "I had forgotten the teachings of my calling until last night, when a valiant spirit gave me cause to remember. I am grateful to him. And to make sure I never forget again, I am no longer Thal of Raven Camp. I am Black Hands of the People."

The newly christened Black Hands walked from the fire through the circle of speechless spectators and knelt before Grey.

"It would be an honor for Black Hands to have you as her first patient," the physician said, her dark brown eyes searching Grey's expression for forgiveness.

"I don't know. I'm deeply impressed by Black Hands, but Shalli says she doesn't show enough humility," Grey replied.

Red-faced with embarrassment, Shalli took off her shawl to drape over Black Hands' shoulders and kissed her reverently on the cheek.

"My words were ignorant. Please, Ben, let Black Hands treat your wound," Shalli begged, kneeling next to her.

"Shalli's words were not ignorant, yet would I be of service," Black Hands said.

"I would be grateful for your help, healer of the people, if you will let me find you suitable clothing on a cool night," Grey answered.

Instantly several women came forward offering a shirt, skirt and boots.

The red moon was high in the midnight sky when Black Hands emerged from the tent, washing blood from her hands. Myra, Court, and Sharlot were with her, all relaxed.

"She did a fine job, Shalli," Myra said, hugging her sister-in-law. "Black Hands' skills may have come dearly, but never was there doubt of her ability."

"The stitching and poultice will heal him quickly now. He may even walk by the festival's third day, if he's careful," Black Hands advised.

Many breathed sighs of relief, looking at Black Hands with new respect.

"Would you have a cup of mauck?" Clagg asked, handing her a goblet.

"Thank you, Clagg. How's your leg?" Black Hands inquired.

"It walks well," Clagg said with a smile.

Black Hands pulled her borrowed jacket tighter and noticed a pile of goods lying on a mat next to her baskets. Blankets, bowls, and more clothing than one person would ever need. Shalli and Tak smiled.

"These are yours, Black Hands," Shalli said. "After everything was taken back, people came with gifts for you. There is enough to be comfortable."

"There certainly is," Black Hands said, holding back tears.

Grey wanted to be up and walking the next day, but no one would let him, so he waited for the festival's final morning to visit the camps. Myra and Clagg accompanied him, making introductions and having Grey hold Garn's hand so fewer would be afraid. The slayer of the wolves looked less fearsome with a smiling child at his side.

At noon, a great meal was held with the leaders giving speeches from a tree stump. Clagg spoke first, his booming voice echoing through the grassy fields. Grey was surprised to find Clagg could be eloquent when the occasion required, his words of brotherhood and mutual challenges finding a receptive audience.

Sharlot spoke next, assuring everyone that the former troubles between the northern and southern camps were now forgotten. All knew she was being optimistic, but they appreciated her effort.

The Raven Camp leader was followed by Barris, who made a few encouraging remarks on behalf of Old Ravo. Though bold in the quarry and in council, Ravo was known to be a poor public speaker, and none trusted his temper.

Nole declined his place on the podium, preferring to convey his thoughts to the camps privately. Jarten's words on behalf of Bear Camp were kept short and the leader of Squirrel Camp was equally brief. Without a formal leader, Wolf Camp declined to participate in the addresses, and Rabbit Camp was not invited to speak.

Several times during the proceedings, eyes turned toward Grey, who sat between Shalli and Tak near Ferret Camp's cooking fire. Apparently they expected him to say something. They were disappointed.

After the speeches and some afternoon sporting events, the cooks prepared to serve a final meal. Dishes were shared generously with every camp and the people were eager, but the celebration grew quiet when the Arikhan arrived.

"Welcome, masters," Sharlot said on her knees. As leader of the most powerful camp, the duty was gladly ceded to her.

"Someone has delivered much meat to the pens," Nabbatron said, scanning the assembled slaves. Behind Nabbatron stood Frontra and Bortro. All three were armed.

"There were disturbances, master, but they have been resolved," Sharlot said.

"Are all the camps here?" Frontra asked, recognizing a diversity of faces.

"Yes, mistress. For the first time in a great while, we dwell together," Sharlot confirmed.

"Where is the half-meat? It is the one I most expected to see," Nabbatron inquired.

"Here, master," Grey responded from the rear.

Barris and Turk helped Grey up and he slowly walked to the guards, kneeling again with some difficulty.

"I smell fresh blood. Is the wound disabling?" Bortro asked, his brown cheeks flushing with hungry interest.

"No, master. I will work again soon. Forgive me if it displeases you," Grey said.

"The creature is impertinent," Bortro complained, his fat tongue clicking with disgust.

"It matters not. I no longer yearn for its flesh," Nabbatron said. "But its aggression has lost us many strong workers. This must be accounted for."

The crowds murmured, much to Nabbatron's surprise. He was not accustomed to such a reaction

"Excuse me, master. May I speak?" Nole requested, rushing forward to kneel at Nabbatron's feet.

He was quickly joined by leaders from Ferret, Bear, and Squirrel camps. Impressive support, Grey thought, but not necessarily good.

"Speak," Nabbatron allowed.

"The wolves preyed upon our women and the weak. We could not work the fields or trade goods. Our camps will work harder now. Through cooperation, we will make quota more often," Nole explained.

"It is true, master," Sharlot said, still bowing low in supplication.

Grey was surprised to find the northern camp leader pleading his cause with so much to gain by his absence. Machiavelli would not have approved.

"Ferret Camp has prospered. Other camps will prosper," Clagg said.

Listening closely, Nabbatron did not detect rebellion in their speech. The alien eyed Grey again, suspicious but not unduly alarmed. Not yet. Grey knew just what Nabbatron was thinking, and Nabbatron could tell Grey was thinking it, too.

"The half-meat will come with us. The rest may continue the feast," Nabbatron decided.

Dozens of people began to rise, but not to continue their meals. There was a sense of dissension in the air that caused the sentries to put claws on their sidearms. Grey jumped up quicker than any of them, even though the sudden motion hurt. He put a hand on Clagg's shoulder to keep him down and held out a hand to Nole and Barris. The leaders retook their submissive positions, signaling for everyone to remain still. After a moment of hesitation, they held back. All except Shalli.

"That's wrong! All Ben did is protect us!" Shalli shouted, running up to Nabbatron and waving an angry finger in his face.

Before Nabbatron could react, Grey swept around with a gentle roundhouse kick, knocking Shalli's legs out from under her. She gasped with surprise as she fell, landing on her rear. Grey pressed her to the ground, almost sitting on her.

"Excuse the female, masters. She suffers from a fever of the brain," Grey said, preventing Shalli from speaking.

"This we have seen," Nabbatron responded without anger.

"Come, food creature," Bortro ordered, taking out a light chain and attaching it to Grey's slave collar. Grey gave Shalli a warning stare as he was led away to the main gate. Frontra lingered behind.

"You are a foolish creature, Shalli. It is good Ben has the wisdom you lack," Frontra scolded, using a claw to raise her up.

"I do not understand, mistress," Shalli said.

"Nabbatron will only question Ben about the fight so a report may be submitted to the Sarden Leader," Frontra said. "Ben is a clever animal. He will provide satisfactory answers. But if Ben becomes a focus of rebellion, he will be sent to the pens."

"Frontra speaks truly. Generous are the masters to overlook your words," Myra agreed.

"I am sorry, mistress. Please forgive my stupidness," Shalli said.

"You have a fever of the brain. It is called love. Do you think we of the superior race do not understand such things?" Frontra questioned.

"Even Nabbatron?" Shalli asked.

"Yes, foolish creature. Even Nabbatron," Frontra answered.

"Will you join us, mistress?" Myra asked.

"I will stay but a moment," Frontra agreed, aware her presence would chill the festivities. "But I would like a cup of mauck. Who was nearest the battle?"

"I, mistress," Tak said, standing up.

"And I," Barris said, quickly at her side.

"Was it Ben alone who slew the wolves?" Frontra wanted to know.

"Barris hit Gronar with a club," Tak mentioned, giving him a smile.

"Tak bit Gronar's ear," Barris boasted. "But Ben slew the wolves. He moved faster than a hawk. The blows of his staff struck with the force of falling rock."

"He was slower after Lace stabbed him, but not much slower," Tak said.

"Tell me everything. Leave out nothing," Frontra said, accepting a stool to sit on.

The people of the camps crowded around even though many had already heard the details. The story got better each time it was told. Frontra's eye-rings jumped with delight as Tak and Barris took turns acting out the moves, her tongue often clicking with excitement. She stayed for three cups of mauck.

The sun had set when Grey emerged from the guard post and staggered through the gate. Several people were there to meet him, all worried. Grey offered a weary smile.

"What's wrong? Did they beat you? Did they use the shock stick?" Shalli asked, rushing to support him.

"No, but Bortro enjoyed making threats," Grey said, his eyes red and legs weak.

"You don't look well. Let us carry you," Barris offered, motioning for Turk to help.

"I'd prefer to walk awhile," Grey declined.

Black Hands looked into his eyes, put her palm against his forehead, and smelled his breath.

"Ben is drunk," Black Hands announced.

"Drunk!" Tak shouted.

"You should see the masters. Most are passed out on the floor," Grey said with a chuckle.

"They didn't hurt you, did they?" Shalli asked.

"No. After the first round of questioning, they wanted me to tell about the fight again," Grey explained. "Dhartro thought to loosen my tongue with Lafarian wine, so we all started drinking and swapping tales. I must have told the story four times."

"It's a good story," Wart said.

"Are there going to be problems? Is the Sarden Leader displeased?" Barris asked.

"I'm not sure. Romtra gave us permission to expand mining operations provided we show results. As long as we make quota, everything should be fine."

Shalli gave him a hug, then placed herself under his arm to help him walk. Tak went to assist on the other side.

"Were there surprises at the festival this year?" Grey asked.

"A few. There will be more at the harvest festival," Barris responded, making sure Tak was paying attention.

"I'm sorry there weren't more surprises. I heard someone was hoping for one," Grey said, kissing Shalli on the forehead.

"You are too hurt for a surprise," Shalli complained. "Maybe you let Lace cut you on purpose so there would be no surprise."

"We're going to have a good spring season," Grey said. "With luck, every camp will make quota. The gardens will be full. When the harvest comes, it will be a joyful time."

Shalli jumped to kiss him, almost climbing up as she clutched his shoulders. Black Hands warned her to be careful.

"I'll be careful," Shalli said in her most sultry voice. "Until you feel better. Then you had better watch out."

Turk and Wart blushed. Barris and Tak smiled.

"Now, my friends, you see my life as it has always been, lurching from one danger to another," Grey said.

This time it was Shalli who blushed.

* * * * * *

With the wolves destroyed changes are coming to the slave camps, and for Grey in the next chapter, Surprises.