Wolf Moon Part 5
"Where are you going?"
"To find the Lord of Darkness."
The Tracker's legs jerked as if they were walking down the dirt road. His eyes moved under sleep-weighted lids to focus on the figure keeping a corresponding cadence by his side.
The person, if it was indeed a human, was near enough to touch yet the face and form appeared wavy around the edges like they were being viewed through a foggy windowpane.
"What will you do when you find him?"
The question wasn't asked, at least not so Heero could hear the words aloud. It was more of an extrasensory inquiry that tickled in his ears and slinked inside his mind.
Likewise, Heero's reply was also accomplished without the aide of physical voice. "Kill him."
"If you go alone you will fail." the vague outline warned concerning the solitary hunter's lethal intentions.
Heero growled out his annoyance at the amorphous being and its unwanted advice. "I need no one."
"This is not solely your quest."
"And who is brave enough to stand and fight with me?"
"The Warriors of the Rose."
*********
A flutter of wings lifted the pair of mourning doves from the rafters. Side by side they flew through a square window set high in the stable's wall and soared skyward to welcome a new day.
Heero raised his arms over his head to stretch the kinks from his shoulders. A barely audible pop along his back verified that the spinal extension was successful. The hay rustled as he sat up. He untwisted both blankets that had snarled around his legs then rubbed his tacky eyes with the heels of his hands.
In the early morning light the stable lost all of its mystery. The eerie shapes of tack hanging on the walls or ghostly tangles of cobwebs or the imagined movements from the loft were put in proper prospective.
Dust swirled in the pinkish sunlight streaming through the cracks. There was no more wind shivering the walls and the residual smoke curling from the forge fire's dying embers had sweetened the musty odors.
Much like the smoke's subtle vapors, an elusive hint of the Tracker's dream lingered in his mind but scraps of remembrances were often all that remained of Heero's morning memories. Long ago, for the sake of his sanity, he had stopped struggling to fit the bits and pieces together into a recognizable picture. It had been his experience that if the dreams were meant to be remembered then they would be revealed in time.
However there was one thing that was certain, Heero's bladder was demanding immediate attention. Kicking off the top blanket, he buried his hands to the wrists in the hay, set his weight on his left hip and pushed to stand.
He draped his cloak around his shoulders to ward off the morning chill and left the crossbow by the bed confident that its protection wouldn't be required. Besides the dirk was strapped to his thigh should he have any reason to use it.
A dense stand of waist-high pine saplings hid Heero's "taking care of nature" and preserved his decency as he tucked in his manhood, rearranged his breechcloth and buttoned his trousers.
A squirrel perched on an oak branch bristled its tail, barked at the stranger invading its territory then lobbed a seedpod to emphasize its irritation.
"All right, I'm going." Heero chuckled at the irate rodent's antics.
Assured that he was out of the squirrel's harassment range, he stood quietly to allow the morning sights, sounds and scents to soothe his soul.
All about the meditative Tracker the varied creatures that called the countryside home had also stirred from their slumber. Deer grazed in the meadow. Chipmunks scampered in the brushwood. Birds warbled and swooped down to snatch bugs for breakfast. Delighted to be awake from its winter hibernation, a woodchuck nibbled on tender spring grass.
Across emerald fields bathed in gossamer mist that shimmered like fairy tears, shaggy cattle and unshorn sheep shared pasture. Four horses galloped across the crest of a hill adjacent to a farmhouse.
A hawk in flight was silhouetted in bands of scarlet blazing on the horizon and further in the distance, rearing up against the painted sky,"The Sisters" mountains kept their timeless watch over all of creation.
The air was delicately perfumed with yellow primroses, pink honeysuckle, wild lilac and lavender. But a trace of another fragrance mingled with the woodsy freshness of flowers and dew-damp grass. A smoky smell wafted on the breeze and a hint of....
Heero sucked in a deep breath and held it so his brain could confirm what his empty belly was already certain of...meat! Someone was cooking meat! The scent was so sure that it caused his nose to twitch and his mouth to salivate.
A loud grumble announced his stomach's impatience and set his feet in motion to find the tempting aroma's source. However as much as Heero wished to ease his insistent hunger pangs, he employed caution and soundless, calculated steps until he peered from the forest fringes into a grassy clearing.
The Tracker's stalking skills were validated by his unseen surveillance of two men sitting beside a stone-ringed fire. Six sticks, striped of their leaves, were anchored between the stones and tilted at the ideal angle to roast the skewered chunks of sizzling meat. Occasionally melting fat would drip into the fire with a sputter and pop that generated wisps of aromatic smoke.
Upon closer observation and to Heero's surprise, he recognized the men from the previous morning at the tavern. There was no doubt.
The one man's slanted eyes and coal black hair, the sword at his side, plainly identified the Oriental. The second man's lengthy auburn braid, his gold and green tartan and the way the fire highlighted his creamy skin left no uncertainty in Heero's mind.
*An interesting turn of events.* the Tracker's inner voice declared.
"Interesting indeed." Heero agreed.
The Oriental rotated several sticks, more fat hissed in the fire. Heero's stomach growled most adamantly. How to approach the pair? Would they be inclined to share?
*You won't find the answers standing here.* his oftentimes pushy council urged Heero into motion.
"Hands in plain sight." the Tracker reviewed the best rule to keep from being mistaken for a highwayman.
Rule number two: Don't advance unless invited.
"Good morning sir." The unexpected greeting, accented with a thick Gaelic brogue, caused Heero to flinch and involuntarily draw back into forest's limited cover.
*You've already been seen,* Heero's inner voice stated the obvious, *might as well show yourself.*
"How did they know I was watching?" he wondered, rapidly evaluating his stealthy approach and what errors he might have made.
"Sir?" The inquiring inflection in the braided man's voice called for some kind of either verbal or physical response.
Empty hands raised in the universal posture of peace the Tracker, who was not so stealthy after all, stepped into the clearing.
"I told ya someone was there." the auburn-haired man boasted to his traveling companion as he pushed up off the ground.
A nod was the Oriental's reply as he also stood up. Luckily his sword remained in its sheath constructed of black lacquered wood and embellished with a golden serpentine dragon with fangs exposed, claws bared and polished red stones for eyes.
The Irishman and the Asian studied the spy who had materialized from the forest. The braided man's scrutiny took the form of a thorough inspection from head to toe as if he was undressing Heero with his oddly colored eyes. The Oriental's ebony centers of sight focused on the dirk and his fingers curled tensely around the sword's hilt in readiness to do battle.
The edgy inspection stretched on for several moments before Heero broke the uncomfortable silence. "I didn't mean to impose my presence," he declared with all the sincerity he could muster. "but your cooking aroused my curiosity."
The braided man cocked his head sideways and gazed up through ginger bangs in a roguish fashion. "You were at the tavern...yestermorning."
"I was."
"Tis strange we'd come across each other."
For some reason Heero felt it necessary to come to his own defense. "This is the main road to Aragon is it not? I suppose many people travel this way."
The Oriental's took his turn to question the coincidental nature of his and the stranger's encounter. "Where did you camp last night? We saw no fires."
Heero was beginning to resent the pair's unwarranted interrogation. "I owe you no explanation." he stated, not bothering to hide his annoyance then decided that some cross-questioning was in order.
"It seems you weathered the storm last night so where did you take refuge?"
A grin flickered over the braided man's lips and Heero swore sparks flashed in his wide pupils. "Tis a fair question. We slept in a cave." he lied about his and his comrade's secretive lodging in the stable loft.
"Where did you "weather the storm"?" The Oriental asked with a contemptuous tone that made Heero wish he had his crossbow.
"In a stable just through the woods." Heero pointed over his shoulder, "Not that it's any of your business." he responded in kind to the Asian's sarcasm.
It was becoming obvious if the verbal sparring continued a physical fight would surely follow. The Irishman held up his hands to calm the angry tides.
"There's no need to argue and there's no need for fightin'. I say we enjoy the quail before it burns and the wine while its cold." he offered the hospitality of food, drink and friendlier conversation.
"My name is Duo of County Maxwell." the braided man introduced himself with a flourished bow clearly designed to mock the aristocracy.
In keeping with his dignified manner the Oriental stood tall, sword parallel to his body and bowed gracefully from the waist but he displayed no air of submissiveness nor did he averted his black eyes from Heero's face.
"I am Chang Wufei." he announced as he straightened up but volunteered no further information concerning his country or ancestry.
"Heero of the House of Yuy." the Tracker nodded to Duo and Wufei in turn. He also gave no account of his origin or background, deciding that such familiarity wasn't necessary to share a simple meal with strangers.
"You're a hunter." Wufei stated with certainty as Heero's no-nonsense attitude and his choice of weaponry attested to his skills to either capture or kill his quarry.
"I am." Heero nodded affirmatively but didn't name the game he hunted.
The eclectic trio settled around the fire to share their bountiful breakfast. Heero inwardly wished for salt but the game bird was tender and cooked through without being too dry.
A bottle of ruby wine had been chilling in the creek. It was passed around several times until the fermented drink had mellowed everyone's mood to mutually acceptable levels of relaxation.
Opposite of Heero's aloof disposition and Wufei's reserved personality; Duo was energetic, sociable and inclined to dominate the conversation.
Between tearing off bits of meat with his fingers and swigging goodly gulps of wine, the enthusiastic Irishman told a rambling story about the last town they visited called Goswick and his carousing with a man named Robert and woman named Lucy.
He went on describing in detail a ménage à trois that made Heero wonder how many of the facts had been remembered through a hangover or were exaggerated by his current imbibing of the fruit of the vine.
Some creditability was given to the dubious tale when Wufei admitted to dragging Duo out of the Millbrook Inn not five minutes before Lucy's husband, a brawny, extremely jealous man, arrived to find his wife in bed with, by then, one man.
The truth was further shored up by Wufei's grisly account of the enraged husband who threw his unfaithful wife out a second-story window. Then Robert, as naked as the day he was born, was chased down the back stairs and caught in the alley where Lucy's illicit lover was castrated for his adulterous deeds.
Heero winced as the gruesome scene replayed in his mind despite his best efforts to keep it at bay. Then it occurred to him that Duo was the one who should be cringing; after all he had barely avoided an identical retribution.
"It seems you're the fool." Heero stated honestly, "You could've just as easily gone from a stallion to a gelding."
Duo agreed, "I know but what's the point of living if you can't feel alive?"
This time Wufei took Heero's side. " Damn fool." he mumbled around a mouthful of meat.
Duo wisely decided that a change of subject was in order. "Are you going to Aragon?" he inquired of the stranger sharing his breakfast.
"Yes."
"Why don't we travel together?"
"There is safety in numbers." Wufei pointed out the obvious advantage.
Heero leaned back with a content sigh. His stomach was full and the wine had eased him into an agreeable mood. "Let me gathering my belongings and we'll begin our journey."
After Heero returned to the stable, Duo squatted beside Wufei, "Should we tell him we know he's a Demon Tracker?"
"What will you say when he asks how you learned such information?"
Duo shrugged. "I don't know."
Wufei used handfuls of dirt to smother the flames then stirred the ashes with a cooking stick until there was no trace of smoke raising from the charred wood.
"Everyone's true nature will be revealed in time, until then let the Tracker keep his secrets."
Midmorning sun flickered through the trees. A warm intermittent breeze feathered the leaves. Birds chirruped a joyous song. Everything seemed right with the world as the unsuspecting Demon Tracker and his Twilight guardians started off to Aragon.
The Shadow Spy's gray vaporous form funneled up from a branch overhanging the clearing then momentarily wafted above the treetops before it departed to do its Master's bidding...the travelers were not to see another sunset.
TBC...
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