There was an odd, scattered light throughout the forest, a dull gleam that seemed to come from nowhere yet everywhere all at once, so a fire for light was not going to be necessary anyway. They sat close to one another as they forced down a simple meal of jerky, nuts and raisins. The bags were full of dry rations that would keep for a very long time, if not exactly provide a hot meal.
Skins filled with warm water washed down the banquet as Morcel rambled on and on of his time in the games. It was a funny thing, really. This brute of a man, who had taken so many lives throughout his own time, had a rather likeable personality. For one thing, he had no bloodlust whatsoever. This seemed odd, given his profession. Killing was business for him—no more, no less. Taking life was just the byproduct of the job he had been hired for. It was never personal, which allowed him to keep his mind untarnished, and to a lesser extent to keep his innocence. The man was witty and quick with a joke or a jab at Jacob about whether or not he used his spiky hair as a weapon.
He spoke with great sadness of the Dronin warrior whom he had met the first day he was forced to compete in the games. His mind had been in a dark place those first few days. However, the warrior Dokani had given him hope. The man sought no fame or glory. Dokani only wanted to get back to his family, to hold his wife and kids once more. He fought like a lion that day, side by side with Mocel as waves of alcatrosses swarmed the arena like bees. Dokani fell that fateful day. Morcel received a few new scars to add to the old, but he knew he too would have fallen that day had he not met Dokani.
The others listened intently as the warrior spun his tales of both near misses and outright victory. All the while, the only purpose to the carnage was to find some way to survive, just to do it all over again. His eyes stared off into the trees as he relived every moment. Jade, however, sat several feet away as she leaned against a tree, keeping to herself. She seemed even more distracted than usual as she fiddled with the ring Berkeni had thrown to her.
Berkeni had said something about being able to find them as long as she wore it. It was a rather plain-looking ring that seemed to have no real value. The shiny silver ring was thick, like one a man might wear, and had no jewels of any kind embedded. Where some kind of stone or jewel should have been, sat a flat, silver surface with a shallow carving of a roaring lion.
She slipped it on as her thoughts drifted to when she saw Berkeni last. He had served as a host for Ben to communicate with her one last time. Up until now, she had carried blame and guilt in her heart for his demise—the father she never had, the father she would love for the rest of her life. Their final encounter provided the closure she needed.
There was a slight rustling of leaves off in the distance as Jade’s eyes shot in that direction. She clearly was not the only one that heard it. In a flash, the men were on their feet with weapons in hand, each of them scanning the immediate area for any movement in the brush. Even though they saw nothing, given the total silence up until now there was no reason to take this lightly. “Get the bags, let’s go,” said Morcel as he grabbed a bag with one hand while firmly gripping his axe with the other.
Everyone began to scramble around quickly. The bags were still mostly packed and there was no fire to put out, so they were up and moving in under a minute. As they marched along at a brisk pace, the sounds of breaking twigs and rustling leaves could be heard on both sides of the path. “Faster, but don’t run,” mumbled Morcel as he picked up the already brisk pace even more. Low growls echoed from both sides of the path now. It was clear that the pack of whatever followed them was keeping pace right along with them.
They finally got a look at one of their pursuers as the giant cat stepped out onto the path, cutting them off from going any further. The great cat had the head of a lion, but a large forked tongue hanging from its open mouth seemed to be a thicker version of a snake’s. The tongue snapped around like whip as the beast growled. Two rows of tiny horns flowed down the length of its spine. Its body was covered with short black fur and was far smaller than the large head would indicate, but razor-sharp teeth and claws promised it was plenty dangerous enough despite its average size. As it growled in a slow, bubbling rumble, tiny slits that seemed almost like gills quivered from its neck as they exposed themselves with the vibration.
Seeing as there was no place to retreat, the four companions placed their backs against one another to form a defensive stance. Because the low growls could be heard coming from everywhere as they echoed off the trees, it was impossible to determine the cats’ numbers. Yellow eyes materialized in pairs, peeking through the brush as more still kept coming. The subtle sounds of crunching ground and dry leaves continued to move around them, proving the cats were circling before deciding when to strike.