Wolf Moon Part 27
Although the Warriors of the Rose were two day's travel from Deep World, the most perilous stages of their journey were yet to come. Crossing the Atlos Foothills, traversing Boar Bog and navigating the River of Souls would demand all the quinque's instincts and cunning...anything less would not see them through.
Quatre and Trowa had made the trek several times and they knew how unpredictable the conditions could be. They knew how, in less than a heartbeat, the landscape could change, usually for the worse.
The stench of sulfur that clogged the air and the thick clouds that muted the sunlight served as heralds from a most inhospitable land. Dense fog crept along the ground. Pungent vapors irritated eyes and caused lungs to labor for a cleansing breath.
Duo leaned beneath his horse and tightened the saddle's girth strap. His nose wrinkled as a disapproving frown thinned out his lips. "Why is it," he directed his comments to Wufei, "that everywhere we've traveled so far has been misty, dusty or creepy?"
Wufei secured his saddlebag and sword. "I guess we like variety." Then gazing off at the gray horizon he predicted, "I don't think conditions will get better in the near future."
*********
The Atlos Foothills were little more than wide lava flows encrusted with a thin layer of sand and grainy pebbles. When the trial pitched up sharply Trowa dismounted and announced. "From here on we lead the horses."
Glassy ground refused to yield even a toehold. Humans and horses fought for footing. Heero panted and coaxed his stallion one difficult step at a time. Duo grunted and cursed and tugged his mount upwards.
Wufei wiped his watery eyes, urged his horse with a hard yank on the reins then coughed in a futile attempt to improve his respiratory functions that were almost to the point of overload.
Quatre paused in his pulling. "I'm beginning to think," he stated between short gasps, "that it would have been wiser to barter with the Borians to use the eastern passage."
His lover's preoccupation with simply standing up precluded an immediate answer. After a moment's reflection, Trowa replied. "Maybe but they might have fancied Duo and I wasn't in the mood for a confrontation."
At the mention of his name, Duo came to an abrupt halt. "Fancy me." he repeated. "What's that suppose to mean?"
The Twilight Priest peered over his horse. "The Borians prefer the company of men and you, my friend, are too pretty for your own good."
*********
Gradually the steep incline leveled out. The exhausted quintet and the equally drained equines assembled on a narrow plateau. Well above the tree line, the unobstructed view offered a hellish panorama.
Boar Bog spread in irregular patches across the valley floor then pressed its borders against jagged russet cliffs streaked by a caustic mixture of steam and volcanic ash. The sunless plane was devoid of any sizeable vegetation and only an ashen aura betrayed the sun's placement above the crimson tinted skyline.
Plumes of acidic smoke bellowed from a distant peak. Scarlet lines snaked down the mountain's sides. Strong updrafts battered the plateau and the hot currents spewed up sandy particles that struck the warriors' faces with stinging sensations and caused them to shield their eyes.
Subdued, serious in thought, no one spoke as each man mustered his courage and steeled his nerves.
Finally Trowa broke the silence. "If we're going to make it through this accursed place before nightfall, we'd better get started."
Duo flashed a sly grin. "No problem."
Heero slid his boot in the stirrup. "Yeah no problem." he agreed with a generous amount of sarcasm then winced when swinging his leg over the saddle aggravated his sore ribs.
The downhill path to Boar Bog was not as treacherous but, even though the sandy surface was somewhat improved, stable footing had to be carefully sought out.
At the lower attitude, the air was saturated with humid smog. The acute contamination soon became evident in the horses' raspy exhaling. Wisely the quinque slowed their pace to give the winded equines a chance to regulate their oxygen-starved wheezing.
When the boggy terrain suddenly devoured the trail, Trowa raised his hand to command everyone's attention. "This is not a scenic tour. The ground is honeycombed with mud pits and quicksand. Get off the path and you're gone."
Steam vents pumped, hissed and regurgitated rusty water from deep beneath the swamp's thin crust. Stagnate pools, thickly coated over with brown slime and decayed matter, undulated between the vents.
From time to time the soupy mud would pulsate with bubbles. Often these gaseous bulges would expand beyond their tension point and explode in a loud POP. Other areas would sputter, belching forth foul secretions that made everyone's stomachs queasy.
Marshy expanses also churned but it wasn't always clear what created the ripples. Once Duo swore by the saints that he saw a scaly spine slink just below surface then, with an irreverent oath, he further declared that a tentacle had protruded from the matted film.
But when Duo guided his horse away from the gurgling mire, Heero's puzzled expression at the Irishman's swift relocation triggered a curt statement.
"I AM NOT goin' to be anything's supper!" Duo exclaimed with another round of swearing that would make a sailor blush.
Humid air wrapped around the weary travelers in saturated blankets. The muggy enveloping combined with concentrated gases quickly took its toll.
Again it became necessary to lead rather than ride. This arrangement suited Wufei, as he preferred walking to taking a chance that one of the horses might misstep and plunge itself and its rider into a bottomless quagmire.
Hoping to prevent a mutiny Trowa proclaimed, "If the warriors made it through the primeval swamp, the road to the River of Souls might be more hospitable."
Wufei took exception to the words "if" and "might" then questioned the Priest's sincerity.
Quatre came to his lover's defense, pointing out that the metamorphic wolf's comments would do nothing to alter the situation then strongly suggested that it wasn't prudent to anger the man who knew where the quick spots were.
*********
Two hours before sunset and the daylight had all but vanished.
To the north, wind-whipped ash formed an ecliptic cloak over the smothering mountain. Almost to the towering peak's crest, smoke curled into funnel clouds and rivulets of glowing magma catapulted from a ragged gap. Just below the belching seam more ash swirled on a whirlwind of superheated air.
Half a mile to the border.
The trail pressed uncomfortably close to the restless volcano. Its mammoth height dwarfed the apprehensive travelers and, as the soil quivered with each tremulous vibration, they could feel the raw power shuddered through their bones.
"Providence had no hand in this wicked place." Heero announced as he took a parting look at the land forsaken by nature.
No one disagreed.
*********
True to Trowa's word, the land slowly began to firm up. The mountain's angry rumbling was less intense. Boiling springs calmed, the air cooled to a more tolerable temperature.
In the fleeting minutes before dusk, the quinque pushed as hard as they dared. Even with the improved air, coughing plagued their progress. The persistent group hadn't stopped to eat and their water intake hadn't equaled the loss in perspiration.
Exhaustion depleted their energy; dehydration burned their throats. Although Trowa had hoped to be further along by nightfall he decided they had pushed far enough.
"This way." he nodded towards the first stand of trees they'd encountered since leaving Boar Bog.
Clearer pools, the same color as Quatre's azure eyes and ringed with crystallized minerals, intermingled between open areas of green grass. Trowa and Wufei took charge of the horses, settling them where they would be easier to watch.
Heero was pleased with the compact grouping, as he had no wish for another horse hunt. He sat, hunched over, resting his forehead on his bended knees. A headache ran from temple to temple, the welts on his face were tender and his ribs hurt too much to sit up straight.
A cool hand gently touched his shoulder. "Drink this." Duo said as he eased down beside the Tracker.
"More sorta tea?" Heero wondered, nodding at the cup in Duo's hands.
"Nope, just water. Quatre is unpacking the last of the food."
Heero took a long drink and let the refreshing liquid slowly slide down his parched throat. "I don't suppose there's a hot spring around here." He took another drink. "I smell like horse and my muscles could use a good soaking."
"In the morning searching for a suitable bath will be first on our "things to do" list." Duo declared with a wink.
Droplets of chilled mist, reflecting the last rays of sunset, clung to the trees. To the north, a scarlet glow tinted the horizon.
Trowa and Quatre slept in each other's arms. Wufei also slumbered under the Sandman's influence but there was no rest for Heero and Duo.
Heero hurt in places he didn't know he had. His head felt much bigger than it should be. The dull ache along his ribs and his puffy right eye were constant reminders of his battle with the barbarian.
Duo sat opposite the battered Tracker. Heero could see the noticeable tremble in the Duel Spirit's hand as he applied a paste of crushed Comfrey leaves combined with water that Quatre promised would ease soreness and minimize bruising.
Despite Duo's gentle strokes, many welts were still painful to the touch especially a deeper blue bruise running from Heero's cheek or his chin.
When a particularly sensitive spot stung and Heero flinched, Duo jerked back his hand as if he'd been burned. "Sorry." he whispered, staring down at the herbal mixture stuck to his fingers.
"It's all right." Heero repeated twice before Duo raised his eyes and fixed his gaze. "If I remember correctly," he declared, "you promised to hold me."
Duo smiled, "I always keep my promise."
Without another word, Duo brushed his fingers off on his pants, retrieved Heero's cloak and carefully wrapped it around his shoulders. With the same care, he helped Heero lay down then settled face to face with his friend.
Blankets were tucked; bodies snuggled close for shared warmth. Heero buried his face in the crook of Duo's neck and showed no hesitation as Duo intertwined their fingers and squeezed.
"I was afraid for you last night." Duo confessed with a shiver in his voice that was more telling than his words.
"I'm part of the Brotherhood now." Heero admitted that a change in his independent nature was in order. "I shouldn't have gone off by myself."
Duo eased back so Heero could see the irritation in his eyes. "Damn the Brotherhood." he hissed.
Before Heero could react or question the source of the Irishman's unexpected reaction, Duo continued. "I'm talkin' about being scare for you...not Trowa or Quatre or Wufei...but you."
Heero's mouth opened then closed without a sound.
Since becoming a Demon Tracker, Heero Yuy had followed three simple rules that had served him well.
First, never trust your eyes or ears, for the human senses are easily fooled. Secondly, rely only on yourself, because evil often takes on the guise of faithfulness to hide its betrayal. But most important of all, guard your heart, for once the heart is broken nothing save a perfect love can make it whole.
Now Heero was being asked to shed the self-sufficiency he had for so long put into practice, to trust that friendship could be offered without ulterior motives and to test the vulnerability of his heart.
But could he surrender even a small part of himself? Did he lack trust in Duo or was it commitment that scared the hell out of him? Could he break the rules and not tempt the Fates to dispense swift reprisal?
Duo's voice brought Heero back from his musing over the elusive concepts of trust and commitment. "I swear you can be the most stubborn son of a bit...."
The evaluation of the Tracker's mulish temperament was cut off by an unpredicted kiss. Ignoring the pain from his split lip, Heero let passion overrule his doubts. At that moment he didn't give a damn if lust clouded his sensibility or if the Fates were pissed off.
Heero clung to Duo like a drowning man grappling for anything to keep him afloat. He rolled over and flattened his body over Duo. His right hand snaked under Duo's shirt; his left hand forced its way between Duo's thighs.
It took a few seconds for Duo to comprehend what was happening. Heero's mouth was sealed over his lips, his tongue persistently searched for a way inside. Anxious fingers trailed over his chest and more fingers fondled his groin.
And the kiss...the kiss was hard and hungry and out of control.
Duo tried to object but his parting lips allowed Heero's tongue to impede his protests. He tried to wiggle free but Heero's heavier weight held him in place.
As the Lone Hunter sought to make Duo his prey, his mind screamed "Stop!" but his body paid no heed.
Finally Duo was able to plant his hands on Heero's breastbone and push him away enough to speak. "No." he implored.
Despite the pain that surged across Heero's tender ribs, "Want you." was stated with a husky growl. The hand seizing Duo's crotch squeezed tighter.
Duo clenched his teeth, sucked in a deep breath and shouted. "NO!"
Heero froze.
He stared at Duo with a faraway look like he had just awoken from a nightmare and wasn't sure where he was. His chest heaved and, with each winded gasp, his entire body quivered. He blinked once, twice before his eyes focused and he realized he had Duo pinned to the ground.
Fingers slipped away. Arms and legs drew up. Heero curled into a ball and covered his face with his hands. Once more his body shuddered, however this time, it wasn't physical exertion that made him tremble but gut-wrenching weeping.
Duo sat up, settled over on his hip and took a moment to recover. His hand hovered hesitatingly over Heero's shoulder. "Heero?" The hand made contact. Heero recoiled and whimpered like a frightened child.
He brushed back bangs stuck to Heero's damp forehead and leaned nearer to see between his friend's interlaced fingers that were soaked with tears. "Please," he begged, "please look at me."
Duo wasn't angry...confused was a more fitting description of his emotional state. It would have been hypocritical to deny that he longed to be claimed by Heero but he wanted to be loved, not taken in the throes of lust driven desire.
Duo also knew how fiercely Heero guarded his heart. Had he sent mixed signals? Had he teased too often or tempted him to do something so contrary to his nature?
"Merciful saints." Now Duo was crying. "Can you forgive me?"
At Duo's declaration of guilt, upon hearing his entreatment for absolution, Heero lowered one hand. A red-rimmed orb studied Duo's tear-tracked cheeks and bloodshot eyes.
"You did nothing wrong." was whispered through lingering sniffles.
"But I...." Duo began before the lump in his throat choked off his explanation.
Heero braced his hands on the ground and with extra effort sat up. Mirroring Duo's confusion, he tilted his head and tried to figure why his friend required his pardon.
"You have no reason to be ashamed. I crossed the line. It was like...." A sigh then silence.
"What?" Duo pressed for an answer.
Heero struggled to put his perplexing feelings into rational words. "It was as though a fire exploded in my soul and if I didn't quench the blaze, the heat would consume me."
Duo nodded, not as if he was merely agreeing but like he understood. "Desire has the hottest flames and it is the Devil's wish that humans dance into the fire."
He took Heero's hand and offered a reassuring smile. "When the time is right, when we both hear the same music, we will dance and the inferno we ignite with rival Hell."
TBC...
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