Legends of the Saloli: Vengeance and Mercy (3 page)

“My plans are finally coming to fruition! Half the forest belongs to me, and the rest is soon to follow!”

Mordred turned away, contemplating something. “But the forest is so small compared to the entire world.” He said, at last, “Why stop there?”

Goliath glared at his prophet, “Do not mock me, even I do not have the might to conquer the earth.”

“Oh, but you do!” Mordred cackled, “You have more power at your claws than you could ever imagine.”

“What do you mean?” Now Goliath’s interest had been sparked.

The sound of flapping leather filled the air, and a great shadow loomed over the prison, causing the prisoners to cower in fear. An ear splitting screech rang out, making even Goliath cringe in pain, though Mordred did not react. “Phantom is only the beginning, Goliath.” He said, “There are many, many more where he came from.”

“What are you talking about?”

Mordred smiled, “Try to remember everything that you’ve ever heard about our histories, and come to your own conclusion.”

Chapter Four

As the sun sank below the trees, leaving the forest lit only by the waning moon, Blaze ventured back to the nursery tree, where the mothers and fathers slept in order to take care of their young ones. He had been around Icefire’s territory more than six times on his search for Smallthorn, but, like always, had found no trace of his friend, and was looking forward to a good sleep before he did it again the next morning. To get to the tree, though, Blaze had to pass Newthorn’s corpse. It lay at the very edge of camp, where no saloli would have to be near it. The funeral had yet to take place, because Rust felt it would be wrong to send Smallthorn’s mate off without him being there to see it. Icefire’s chief believed that he was hiding his emotions, but Blaze could easily tell that Rust felt guilty about what had happened. Neither Razor’s attack nor Newthorn’s interference had been his fault, but, as Icefire’s chief, he still felt responsible for it happening. Blaze sympathized with him, knowing that it was for his own sake that Newthorn had intervened in the first place.

“It’s sad, isn’t it?” Someone behind him asked. Blaze turned around to see Sunbeam standing behind him. Sunbeam was, in his opinion, the kindest, most beautiful saloli in Icefire. He had long since thrown away any misconceptions that he was anything but head over heels in love with her, and had reason to suspect that she felt the same for him. Still, he could not bring himself to do the one thing that he most desired; he could not ask her to be his mate. There were, he had told himself, two outcomes to this war. The first was that he would return to his human life, leaving Icefire behind forever. The other was that he would die. Both of these would break Sunbeam’s heart if he were to allow her to become that close to him. No, painful as it was, that was how it had to be.

“Hi, Sunbeam.” He said.

“I still can’t believe it came to that,” She continued, looking at Newthorn’s corpse “I don’t blame Smallthorn for wanting to be alone after that. It must have driven him half mad.”

“He’ll be back.” Blaze assured her.

“I know, he’s stronger than that. This may have hurt him, but he would never just give up. How is Springthorn?”

“He’s learning new words faster than I’d have ever thought possible. He’s definitely growing up. It won’t be long before he’s ready to become a trainee.”

“Has he. . .” Sunbeam began.

“No, he hasn’t started calling me father yet, and I don’t think he ever will. He knows that Smallthorn is his father, not me. That’s one thing I’m happy for.”

“He loves you enough to be his father.”

“I know.” Blaze sighed, “I wish Smallthorn would come back. He’s missing his son do so much. Soon, his childhood will be gone, and there will be no getting it back. If he doesn’t come home soon, Springthorn might not even remember him.”

Sunbeam suddenly seemed nervous, and she averted her eyes, “Blaze,” she said, obviously choosing her words carefully, “I believe that, given the chance, you would be a wonderful father.”

If Blaze had still been human, he would have blushed brighter red than his own fur upon hearing this. “W-what are you talking about?” He asked. His heart began to beat faster in panic. Why was she bringing this up? This conversation could not end well.

“Well,” Sunbeam continued, “I’ve seen you with Springthorn, and you’re a natural with children. I was beginning to wonder if you’d given any thought to having children of your own someday.”

Blaze kneaded the dirt below him with his claws, trying to think of a good answer. “I. . .” Blaze sighed in defeat, “I don’t think so.”

Disappointment filled Sunbeam’s eyes, “Why not? You would be a perfect father to them, and surely you don’t want your bloodline to end with you?”

“It just can’t happen, Sunbeam.” Blaze told her, his voice barely a whisper, still not able to meet her eye, “It would end badly for everyone involved.”

“I’m sure whoever you chose could make it work.” Sunbeam persisted.

“Sunbeam, please don’t make this any harder than it needs to be.”

Tears filled Sunbeam’s eyes, “Blaze, if you’re afraid of what might happen, then don’t let it be your decision. Let the one who loves you decide what being with you is worth. I. . . I. . . I don’t know if you love anyone, or if you’re even willing to try, but trust me when I tell you that true love does not recognize danger. The one who loves you is willing to stand beside you, no matter what the cost is.”

Her last sentence caught Blaze’s attention, and he finally looked at her, “Who is it that loves me?” He asked, “Tell me her name.” It was her, he could tell. Even if he could not do what she wished, it would make his heart soar with happiness to hear her say the words “I love you” to him.

Sunbeam’s eyes widened a bit in hope, but then cast themselves downward, away from Blaze, “I will tell you her name if you promise not to break her heart.” She said, “Promise me that you will accept her as your mate, and love her just as she loves you, then I will tell you her name.”

Blaze’s heart sank into his stomach, and tears crept into his own eyes, but he forced himself to look at her, “I’m sorry Sunbeam, but my love isn’t worth the pain that she would be put through. She may not be able to understand that, but I do. It would be better if she were to just find another saloli to care for her. It may hurt at first, but I hope she will come to realize that, in the long run, it was the better choice.”

Without waiting for her to respond again, Blaze turned and raced across the camp to the nursery tree, which he climbed to the third branch, leaving Sunbeam alone. As she watched him go, Blaze could not hear what she whispered to herself.

“No, Blaze. I love you, no one else, even if you despise me. If I can not have you, then I, too, will never take a mate.” Turning to the common’s tree, she slowly made her way there, trying to hold back the anguished sobs that tore at her throat. From his perch in the nursery tree, Blaze could only watch as the one he loved walked away. Sighing, he turned away to find Springthorn waiting for him.

“Blaze!” The child squeaked, his eyes bright with happiness. Even after the exchange he’d just had, Blaze couldn’t help but feel his heart warm up again at the sight. This creature’s love was so pure, so innocent, that it tore Blaze apart just to think about the little tyke’s predicament. Mother dead, father missing, yet a frown never once crossed his face.

“Hi, Springthorn.” He said, “Did you have a good day?”

Without another word, Springthorn ran up and pounced on his godfather. Playing along, Blaze rolled with the less than significant impact, and let the child pin him, “Blaze dead!” Springthorn giggled.

“It sounds like you’re getting better at talking.” Blaze mused, though his godchild took no notice. Rolling over, sending Springthorn sliding back onto the branch with a happy squeak, he got back to his paws. “Come on, little guy. You need to get some sleep.”

“Not tired.” Springthorn argued, and then yawned.

“I think you are.” Blaze insisted, leading the way back to where the branch met the trunk, and nestled down into it. Clearly not happy about it, Springthorn followed obediently, his eyelids drooping further with every step. Pressing against his godfather’s side, he curled up, wrapping his tail, which was now almost as bushy as a trainee’s, around himself, and fell asleep within the minute.

Chapter Five

The bright morning rays shined down on Icefire’s camp, stirring its inhabitants from their peaceful slumbers. Yawning, Blaze stood up slowly, careful not to wake his still dozing godchild. It almost hurt to leave Springthorn alone like this, but Blaze knew he had to continue his duties. Climbing out of the nursery tree, he casually made his way over to the food pile, where he picked out a healthy looking acorn. Opening his mouth, he prepared to crack the shell open to get at the tasty nut inside, when he was suddenly shoved out of the way by another saloli. Irritated, Blaze turned around to rebuke him, but the words died in his throat when he saw who it was.

“What are you looking at?” Thunder demanded, the purple scar tissue crisscrossing his face contrasting sharply with his dark brown fur. Thunder had been Newthorn’s sister, and Razor’s trainee. On the day Blaze was to be promoted, Razor had initiated an old saloli trial called the Challenge of Determination. This forced Blaze and Thunder to fight each other for the honor of being promoted. In an unexpected act of savagery, Blaze himself had given Thunder the many hideous scars that now deformed his face. What hurt Thunder even worse than losing, though, was the consequence of failing the Challenge. Though he was now a full grown saloli, he was forever condemned to remain a trainee, denied the right of adulthood in his own tribe. Blaze still felt guilt for that.

“Nothing.” Blaze muttered in reply, trying to avoid Thunder’s glare. The failure would not be ignored, though, and moved so that he filled Blaze’s vision.

“I hate you!” He spat, his eyes showing just how true his words were.

“I’m sorry,” Blaze apologized, “but I can’t undo what I did to you.”

“Idiot! You think I’m talking about the Challenge? I couldn’t care less about that anymore. No, I hate you for killing my sister!”

Shocked, Blaze tried to retreat, but Thunder followed him, “What are you talking about?” He asked, “Smallthorn killed Newthorn, but if you’re going to be angry at anyone, then make it Razor. He started the whole thing.”

“No,” Thunder accused him, “you started it. If you had just died when Razor attacked you, Newthorn wouldn’t have interfered, and none of this would have happened.”

A chill ran through Blaze’s heart. The poor saloli was desperate for someone to blame, and had pinned Blaze as the one. The problem wasn’t that he was afraid of Thunder, but that he understood his logic. But it couldn’t be right, could it?

“It’s not my fault.” Blaze said, guilt causing his voice to be lowered to a whisper.

“It
is
your fault.” Thunder insisted, “And I’m going to be keeping a very close eye on you. The minute I see you step out of line, I’ll report it straight to Rust. Then you’ll get what you deserve.” With that said, the angry saloli turned and stormed back to the trainee’s tree. The shock did not leave with its instigator, though. Blaze was surprised to find himself shivering, slightly.

It’s not my fault,
he thought,
It’s not!

Though he was still bothered, Blaze managed to push it to the back of his mind. For now, he needed to concentrate on the task at hand. Today he planned to speak to Rust about Ginger. Making his way over to his chief’s tree, he found Rust standing beside it, issuing orders to a patrol that was preparing to depart. Blaze hung back until he sent them off.

“Good morning, Blaze,” Rust greeted him, “What can I do for you?”

“Good morning,” Blaze responded, “I just have a question I’d like to ask you. Who, exactly, was it that told you that Ginger was dead?”

Blaze knew he was taking a huge risk jumping straight to the point like this. Sure enough, Rust’s eyes widened in surprise, and then furrowed in anger, “Who told you about that?” He demanded.

Putting on an innocent face, Blaze said, “I heard it from another saloli.” Rust narrowed his eyes in suspicion, “I don’t remember his name.”

Rust glared at Blaze for a moment longer, but then his gaze fell to the ground, “I loved her Blaze. Far more than you could ever understand. You have no idea what it’s like to lose somebody you love so much so quickly.”