8. Chapter 8

It was late afternoon a few days later when my two warriors and I stumbled over the remnants of another camp Tzar-Than had made with his charges. This one didn't look as old. We were finally catching up with him.

It wasn't time for us yet to make camp; we still had a few fingers and a breadth of daylight left before the sun went down, but I wanted to take this opportunity to refill our waterskins. On my way to the stream, I stopped midstride and stared, utterly astounded at the last sight I had never expected to find in the wildlands: a human gallis.

"By Vorag," I pressed out, hastening forward to see if she was still alive.

Something furry chirped on top of her, and I stumbled back. Nek, this was impossible. Behind me, my warriors expressed their astonishment as well .

"Merciful Vorag," Dhor-Van exclaimed.

"Is that a velviph?" Shan-Tal whispered. "I've never seen one."

It was indeed a velviph. I had only ever seen one in my life. Velviphs were venerated on Vandruk like gods, seen as their messengers. They only showed themselves to a chosen of the gods if that person was at their lowest, in the moment of their greatest need.

The gallis woke up with a start, proving she wasn't dead, and the velviph chirped again, running up her arm to sit on top of her head, curling his tail around her neck. He hissed in warning.

"Is that a human?" Dhor-Van asked, seemingly more taken in with her than the velviph, which I had to admit was a close call. Both were aberrations that should be impossible to just stumble over.

"I can't believe it. A velviph." Shan-Tal, the younger of my warriors, pointed as if Dhor-Van and I had missed what he was looking at.

"Who are you? What are you doing here? Are you alone?" I asked the gallis, who stared at me. A glint of fear rushed over her expression, and it took me a moment to realize that the three of us were probably making a fear-inducing sight. Not to mention, we were most likely speaking a language she didn't understand.

With effort, she rose and raised a hand. I readied myself to jump forward and grab her should she sway. She looked even more fragile than the human males we had slaughtered. Beautiful, but fragile. She was a smaller version of our gallies besides her olive skin tone. But her hair was black like ours. Her eyes, too, were stunningly different. Her pupils were round, not slitted like ours.

As if pulled by a magnet, I stepped forward and raised my hand to touch her, to find out if her skin was as soft as it looked. Unexpectedly she slapped my hand away and my warriors snickered behind me.

"Khadahr?" she asked in a beautiful voice with a beautiful accent. The velviph chirped again, startling me.

"Why do you have a velviph with you?"

As if hearing his name, the velviph chirped again, moving about her head. Her hand reached up, and for a moment, I thought she meant him harm and took another step forward to interfere, but the gods' messenger only moved to her shoulder and took perch there.

"Khadahr Tzar-Than," the gallis said.

That surprised me. "You were with Tzar-Than's group? What happened?"

"Khadahr, the gallis looks hurt. We should start camp and see to her wounds," Dhor-Van suggested.

Having been too stunned by her and the velviph, I hadn't given the gallis' condition much thought since she sat up, but now I remembered that when I first saw her, I had thought her dead. I also realized that the discolorations on her face were probably bruises.

Angry at myself, I scowled at the gallis, before I slapped myself on the chest to give her my name. "Khadahr Dzur-Khan."

"Dzur-Khan," she mangled it .

"Khadahr Dzur-Khan," I repeated slower.

She nodded, but a small scowl moved over her features, "Khadahr Dzur-Khan." She tipped her chest. "Gwyn."

"Ghwynn," I repeated.

She wasn't at all what I had expected a human to be like. Most of all, I would have never expected to see a velviph with her.

We barely tried to talk, when a roar sounded out and Tzar-Than attacked me from behind.

Surprised but ready for a fight to get rid of some of my pent-up anger from the previous day, I dished out as many hits and kicks as he did. I was just about ready to fling myself on him when the gallis said something in a language I didn't understand. Whatever she said stopped Tzar-Than, and, heavily breathing, he stepped back.

I tasted blood in my mouth and spat it out while greeting the other Khadahr,

"Tzar-Than."

"Dzur-Khan," he greeted back, grounding his jaw.

"You lay claim to this… gallis?" The vehemence of his attack on me had been surprising, but watching him stop for her, it wasn't hard to come to my own conclusions, especially after Gwyn had mentioned his name. The question was, what was she doing here? All by herself? Half dead?

"Sa, I lay claim to Gwyn," Tzar-Than pressed out.

I took a deep breath. Even though Bzun-Lhan had told me Tzar-Than had left with human gallies, it was still hard for me to believe. "So you went ahead and did it? You not only invited human gallies to Vandruk, but you also took one for your own. "

"Sa," he answered simply.

"You would think you would take better care of the gallis you claim." I couldn't resist baiting him.

"We got separated due to treachery." He didn't seem to like having to admit this, though. That he did proved once again his character to me, and I held out my arm. "It's good to see you, brother."

He didn't hesitate to grab it, and we clasped elbows before I pulled him into an embrace. It had been a long time since I had seen him, and the last time we spoke hadn't ended so well.

"So this is a human gallis?" I broke the slow-building tension.

Tzar-Than rushed to her side and talked in a language I didn't understand. "You understand their language?"

"Sa," he answered before he noticed the velviph still clinging to Gwyn. "…velviph."

Patiently, I waited for the two of them to fill each other in, taking the time to observe their interaction. Their feelings for one another were easy to spot, and a slight pang of jealousy reared inside me. Love and affection hadn't entered my mind when I went to the Temple to request a mate, but seeing Tzar-Than and Gwyn reminded me of other possibilities—things I had long forgotten.

After a while, Tzar-Than asked, "Can we use one of your tents?"

"Be my guest," I offered, but reminded him, "You owe me a story."

"You'll get it. Just give me some time to take care of her."

I knew this wasn't easy for him, so I only grunted in acknowledgement and settled by the fire Dhor-Van had started to wait for Tzar-Than to return and explain why his mate had been out here in the middle of the wilderness, alone and unprotected.

"Make it quick," he said when he finally emerged from the tent, taking a seat next to me. The sun had lowered, and darkness settled over the land. In the distance, the hunting cry of a xythrax echoed through the wilderness. It was too far away to be a threat to us, yet Tzar-Than and I both stiffened and paused for a moment to listen. Xythrax were formidable predators.

When only silence followed, I pulled out a small skin of skoff—alcohol. He took a long swig, made a face, and coughed. "That's vile!"

I chuckled. "Ghar-Dhan sends his greetings." Ghar-Dhan was another khadahr. His demesne was famous for brewing the strongest and vilest alcohol and was revered throughout Vandruk.

"Ah, Ghar-Dhan, I haven't seen him in months."

"I don't want to talk about Ghar-Dhan," I stated, looking directly at Tzar-Than.

"You brought him up," he reminded me with a short grin.

"You contacted this other species, the one responsible for our great tragedy after we advised you not to," I came straight to the point.

"The humans, sa," he allowed.

"And she is one of them?" I asked, nodding towards the tent where the gallis slept, although I already knew the answer.

When he didn't answer, I shot out my next question, "You're going to make her your khadahrshi?"

"Sa. "

"Are they compatible with us? Will they breed our children?"

He shrugged. "I don't have an answer yet."

"The others will be livid that you went against their will," I pointed out.

"What I do in my lands is my decision, no one else's." Tzar-Than remained stubborn.

"We've been like brothers, Tzar-Than. I hate watching you make a mistake."

"I appreciate it Dzur-Khan. But I cannot stand by and watch our species die, not when there might be a way around it," he argued.

"I prayed to the gods for guidance, Dzur-Khan," he confided in a low voice. "Vorag appeared to me in my dreams. He told me I needed to go through the red fog. When I went through, it was Gwyn who waited for me and guided me to the other side."

I took a moment to digest his words. He claimed Vorag appeared to him. Bzun-Lhan would say that was blasphemy. Vorag only appeared to a true believer, to one without sin, which was why we needed the priests as mediators, which begged the question as to how free of sin the priests truly were. I had seen the luxuries they surrounded themselves with. They didn't live like they used to any longer. Was it really that farfetched that Vorag would appear to one of us to make his wishes known if the priests no longer obeyed their rules?

I heard myself ask an entirely different question, though.

"What was it like? The other side?"

His posture became weary as he shrugged. "Disorienting. The humans are much more advanced than us. They are dangerous."

I took another swig of the skoff, indicating for him to go on with his story.

"A few nights ago, I had another dream. I dreamt Gwyn was in danger by a xythrax and that I would slay it."

Xythrax? Now that was an unforeseen change in our conversation. My interest was piqued. Everyone enjoyed a good story about a xythrax, because it usually involved a good battle story.

"And, did you?" I fished, wanting to hear more.

"Sa, but not alone." He grinned.

"What do you mean? Did your warriors interfere?" I asked, outraged. I couldn't imagine a warrior interrupting or diminishing the fight between a a khadahr and a xythrax. That was humiliating. It wasn't done.

"Nek." A small, dry laugh escaped him. "They didn't."

"Then who…" I broke off as realization began to settle inside me. But nek, that couldn't be, could it? That fragile gallis? "Don't tell me that gallis of yours…"

The expression on Tzar-Than's face said it all, and I leaned back in disbelief. "How?"

"She threw a spear at the xythrax," he filled me in, pointing at the stitched wound still visible on his shoulder.

"She hit you?" Now that I could believe.

"Me and the xythrax." Pride filled his voice. "It was her spear inside the beast that I used to finish him off."

I stared at him for a few moments, digesting his information. Vorag had appeared and warned him of danger to his gallis; then he had not only helped that gallis finish a xythrax, but sent a velviph to make it clear he was in favor of her. "Well, I'll be damned."

Silence followed. We drank more of Ghar-Dhan's vile skoff while my mind raced. I allowed my thoughts to wander to the possibility of mating a human gallis. Besides the priests, there was one more obstacle though, "Even if Vorag is on your side, I told you before that even if your plan succeeds, even if those human gallies give us sons and daughters, they won't be Vandruks."

"Nek, not fully, but we can teach them to be," Tzar-Than said.

There was much I needed to think over, so I changed the subject. "It's my turn at the red fog to stand watch. Guess who waited for me there?"

"Bzun-Lhan, our esteemed High Priest," Tzar-Than guessed.

"And your brother," I reminded him.

"A fact I cannot forget, no matter how hard I try to," Tzar-Than scoffed.

I chuckled, the grudge between the two brothers was well known, but then I sobered again, needing to warn Tzar-Than. "He's going to rile up the Temple and the other khadahrs against you."

"Let him." He waved me off. "Farruk is well protected."

"You cannot fight all of Vandruk," I reminded him.

"Not alone, nek," he admitted, looking thoughtfully at me. "It will take them months to even agree if they want to fight me, let alone put a war party together," he laid out his plan. "In the meantime, with some luck, we might have our first younglings. Do you think the other Khadahrs would still attack if I showed them my son?"

"You're counting on luck, which we haven't had much of late," I cautioned.

"You noticed the velviph?" He wanted to know. "The gods are on our side."

I still wasn't convinced, so he added, "Look, we either give up and die without heirs in what, another thirty to forty years?"

"Suit yourself. I'm planning on living another fifty." I couldn't resist challenging.

"Fine, we'll die in another fifty years, alone, without heirs, while our entire species slowly withers away as well. There are what, maybe a thousand females left? A few hundred of fertile age or about to become fertile? Even if they bear ten living children each, our species won't survive unless these females all have children by different fathers giving birth to mostly females."

"That would never happen. That is why the Temple is deciding now who gets mated," I asserted.

"Sa, and you do realize how much power that puts into my brother's hands?" He must have seen the expression on my face, telling him that I knew exactly what he meant. "It's Bzun-Lhan who decides which clan grows and which one withers."

He was right; I knew he was. Still lifelong ingrained beliefs fought inside me.

"Vorag divulges to the High Priest…" but I couldn't finish.

"Have you never heard Vorag's voice?" Tzar-Than challenged .

"It's blasphemy, only the High Priest…" I began, only to stop again and admit, "Sa, it has been irking me. Ever since they offered me a youngling who hasn't even bled yet as my khadahrshi."

Tzur-Than shook his head. "He did?"

I nodded. "Sa, after I told him that I was going to catch up with you, leaving most of my warriors at the red fog."

"You were coming after me?"

"I wanted to see. I wanted to see the humans, our archenemies. I've always respected you, Tzar-Than. We're already on the verge of extinction. I needed to see what would make you risk a war between the Temple and the Khadahrs and decimate our species even further. You don't even know yet if the humans will give us children."

"My point is, it doesn't matter how we die. It matters how we live. If we give our species a chance. How can you look in the eyes of the last Vandruk, maybe ten years old, maybe fifteen, and tell him or her that, sa, there was a small chance to ensure his or her generation's survival, but we didn't risk it because of a possible war."

He was right. We both knew it. I stared into the crackling flames and tried to envision our future. One path led down Bzun-Lhan's way, where we would have brides so young to fill them with as many offspring as possible, wearing them down, and the other was Tzar-Than's way. Where we diluted our blood but didn't compromise what we stood for.

"She looks fragile," I pointed out .

"She isn't in the greatest shape. There was an incident," Tzar-Than admitted and filled me in on how some of the other gallies had conspired to kill Gwyn in order to become Tzar-Than's khadahrshi.

"Sounds like Gisetta." I laughed when he finished, reminding him of the sister I had lost.

"Gisetta? I haven't thought about Gisetta in a long time," he admitted. But his expression changed. It showed that all his memories of my devious sister were coming back to him.

"She would have never tried to kill another person," he objected.

"Not herself, nek," I agreed. Nek, she would have manipulated others to do the deed.

"Sandra is not like her," Tzur-Than warned. "Besides, she and her cohorts will return to their world."

"I loved my sister, but I didn't like her very much," I divulged. "I would never want someone like her as a mate, but I just wanted to remind you that our gallies used to be vicious, too. Maybe our two species have more in common than I thought."

"The group I requested has shrunk, but you're welcome to travel with us to get to know them," he invited.

"What kind of deal did you make?"

"I told them I would give this a year, and we would talk again."