I did promise to put this up for you all to read, so... finally here it is - the long awaited first chapter of The Shadow Runners.
Please keep in mind that the final rewrite of this chapter may change a quite bit, it may be a lot shorter too.
Happy reading.THE SHADOW
RUNNERSBy: Brittany Kingston
© 2006
CHAPTER ONETurrrvahk threw his travel pack across the room and slammed the door. "There is a spy among us."
Dennahn pushed his chair away from the desk and watched his brother pace the room. "What happened?"
Turrrvahk rounded on him, ears flattened against his head, his tail stiff. He slammed the heel of his paw down on the desktop, raking his claws across the polished wood. "Ambush. One of the Alpha’s death packs." His gold eyes flashed in the lamp light. "They knew, Dennahn." His voice grew menacing with emotion. "When we got to the rendezvous point we found the others dead with no mark upon them, no indication at all of which pack slaughtered them." He raked his claws through his ruff to sooth the hackles that had risen. "When we were burying their bodies we were attacked with explosives."
Dennahn tilted his head to one side. "You didn’t post sentries?"
"Of course I posted sentries," Turrrvahk growled. "Brizzaal’s herrr were already there, waiting for us. We scouted the area but there was neither scent nor sight of them." He pounded the desktop. "They were fully screened from our senses, and they had weapons, Dennahn. Alien weapons. After they killed Terrragh’s herrr, they laid explosives under the ground." A high pitched phonic in his tone betrayed his stress. "We don’t know how they set them off. We could find no detonators. We could smell no powder." He pointed a foreclaw at his brother. "Don’t you realise what this means? They knew our plans to the exact detail. How else could they have been so prepared for us?"
Dennahn lowered his chin to his chest and sighed. "How many did we lose Turrrvahk?"
"Only three of us returned this time, Dennahn. Only three out of twenty." Turrrvahk made another effort to flatten his hackles. "We cannot delay any longer. We must stop the import of these weapons and destroy any explosives traveling across the country. Already, too many have fallen into Brizzaal’s paws, and he uses them against us every chance he gets."
Dennahn raised his head and regarded his brother through worried eyes. "That will put further strain on the herrragh we’re fighting to help. Destroying shipments of explosives will put a lot of herrr out of business. The mines and the explosives factories would be affected. A lot of lives depend on that trade. We are trying to fight oppression, Turrrvahk, not add to it."
"We can’t let them keep killing us off like this. We’re losing too many good herrr."
"Our army is..." Dennahn began, but Turrrvahk cut him off.
"Our army is too far away. We have to take a more active stance or we’ll be obliterated before they get here. Where are our alien weapon specialists, Dennahn? Why don’t we have people who are capable of sneaking up on our enemies without being sensed? When are you going to stop fighting by the same antiquated rules that got our sire killed and start playing dirty? It’s the only way we’re going to win this Gods forsaken war."
"Calm yourself, Turrrvahk. Now is not the time to be forced into hasty moves. That’s exactly what Brizzaal wants us to do. We can’t afford to make any mistakes now. It would leave us exposed."
Turrrvahk bared his teeth at his older brother. "If we don’t do something soon there’ll be nobody left to expose."
Dennahn rose to his feet and stared into Turrrvahk’s eyes. "Do you challenge my judgement?"
"Yes, I challenge your judgement." Turrrvahk stared back, his ears set tightly against his head and his tail stiffened behind him. "Have you been sitting so long behind an Alpha’s desk that you’ve lost touch with what the real world is like? You are sending our best herrragh out to be slaughtered while you sit here with your maps making notes and drawing plans." He swiped several such documents from the desk, scattering them across the floor.
Dennahn’s hackles rose and his tail bristled stiffly. He drew his lips back exposing long canine teeth.
Turrrvahk held his stare only as long as a brother could get away with. When Dennahn advanced, he lowered his head and tail and turned away.
Dennahn shook his hackles down and resumed his seat. "A wise decision, Turrrvahk. We cannot be just brothers any more. I am your Alpha. Don’t forget that."
Turrrvahk thumped his chest with a closed fist then pointed his foreclaw at Dennahn. "I will never forget that." He turned on his heel and left his brother’s office in search of the drinks hall where he would be able to drown his thumping headache in a strong bowl of sarlos.
Dennahn tried to massage the knot of tension from the back of his neck. Was his brother right? He retrieved the large, table sized chart from the floor. His army was still half a continent away and time was running out. Turrrvahk was a herrr of action. He was a good leader, an excellent spy and assassin, but he never had patience for the finer technicalities of war. Dennahn traced a line on the map with his foreclaw. Maps, notes, plans and stolen information could make the difference between winning and losing. Small, labouriously-calculated details were just as effective in bringing down a regime as was brute force. Somewhere, some time soon, Alpha-Brizzaal was going to make a big mistake. According to his sources, Brizzaal had already made several small ones. Greed and haste to be rid of the shadow runners would force him into that final, fatal error. It was a matter of time.
Turrrvahk was right about one thing though. More than just spying on their enemy and gathering information was needed now.
Dennahn pressed a claw to the intercom pad on his desk and spoke loudly in the muted coolness of his subterranean office. "Is Shahdhurr here, Hahrnha?."
"Yes, Alpha."
"Send him in."
The older, more heavily ruffed male entered the office. He gave a brief, submissive lowering of his head to acknowledge the status of his old friend’s cub. With the formalities over, he embraced Dennahn as any family member would. "You’re looking well, young Alpha."
"You too, my friend." He indicated the chair opposite his own for Shahdhurr to use. He resumed his seat behind his desk.
Shahdhurr waited until the Alpha was seated then relaxed into the chair. "I have no news yet, Dennahn, on what the Alpha-Brizzaal is going to do with his amassed armies. He has called a court session for next week so I’m hoping to hear something of interest to you there. I can have Ghenzahn contact you with details as I find them out."
Dennahn extended his head in a nod. "There is something I would like you to arrange for me, Shahdhurr."
Shahdhurr leaned back in the chair, twirling the ornate golden ring on the middle claw of his right paw – a habit that showed he was thinking. The large amber stone sparkled as it caught the light from the enormous hanging lantern positioned above the desk. "In honour of your late sire, I find no task too great for you to ask of me, Alpha. Name your request and consider it done."
Dennahn leaned his elbows on the desk and steepled his claws in front of his nose. "We need an alien weapons specialist. Someone who knows how to use, how to put together and how to take apart these new weapons Alpha-Brizzaal has been using against us. We also need someone who is an expert at screening themselves from herrragh senses, can see in the dark, see body heat or sense auras, or all of those things."
Shahdhurr’s mouth opened in a canine grin. "That is more easily arranged than you can imagine, Dennahn."
"You have somebody in mind already?"
"Two alien mercenaries have reportedly arrived in the immigration centre, Alpha. What their business here on Andaman is, I don’t know, but I’m certain it will not break your credit line to hire them."
Dennahn whuffed in amusement. "Is there nothing that escapes your attention, Shahdhurr? My sire chose well when he picked you for a friend. I only wish he had lived to realise the full depth of your friendship." Dennahn rose and waited for the elder herrr to do likewise. "I shall look forward to meeting these two mercenaries."
Shahdhurr lowered his head briefly. "You will not have to wait too long, Alpha. I can assure you of that." He waved his tail slowly from side to side. "And, as always, you may trust that the utmost secrecy is guaranteed."
#
When Ranger and Jaxxlar stepped from the immigration sector of Graffnagh’s main passenger terminal, heat slammed into them like a wall of oppression. Jaxxlar coughed as he left the airconditioned building and his nose was assailed by the odors of Andaman. Ranger pulled him aside when a huge, spotted murrahm strode past wearing an expression that made it clear he wasn’t about to step around a drinn and a vedrathian.
Jaxxlar curled his lips. The scent of the feline made his half canine instincts explode into violence. His heart pumped faster and the line of hair down the centre of his back bristled. He flattened his ears against his head and was about to spring into action when the vedrathian’s grip on his arm distracted him from his prey.
"Watch it!" Ranger kept a tight grip on Jaxxlar’s arm until he felt the drinn’s muscles relax. He cursed the stupidity of the quarantine official who had confiscated Jaxxlar’s restrictor. No amount of arguing could convince that idiot that the sophisticated torc did not contain certain illegal substances.
Jaxxlar took several deep breaths and rubbed his throat. Bereft of the familiar weight of his restrictor, he felt naked and exposed. Without it’s help to regulate his hormonal and adrenal systems, Jaxxlar realised he would have to struggle to keep his instincts under control.
"We don’t need that kind of trouble, Jaxx." Ranger switched to telepathic communication. *We’ll have trouble enough if we decide to take on this mission.* He glanced at the position of the sun. *We’re going to have to hurry to get to the temple of Gahldurr before the sun goes down.*
Jaxxlar shook his thick mane of russet hair free of the dust that was already settling upon them. *Do you think this Beta-Dorrraan has kept his word?*
Ranger regarded him for a moment. *I hope so. I’ve heard enough stories about these herrragh to know that if Dorrraan isn’t there to meet us, we’d better find ourselves another legitimate reason to be on this planet very quickly. At first glance, you don’t stand out nearly as much as I do, and these wolves don’t take too kindly to aliens wandering around.*
Jaxxlar gave a short bark of laughter and said out loud, "I don’t think they would take too kindly to being called wolves." He pulled the electronic map from his travel pack and consulted it. He gave a tight-nostrilled sniff at the air. "Well, at least there’s no pollution on Andaman. Not the kind that comes from technology, anyway." He pointed out the direction they should go and stowed the map in a convenient pocket. He slung his pack across his shoulder and started walking. They’d been ship-bound for five weeks and a stroll in the open was more than welcome. The galactic-class ship they’d been forced onto at Ghee Port was comfortable enough but overcrowded, and no matter how good the air conditioning was, it could never replace fresh air. Not that Jaxxlar could call this air fresh.
The drinn gazed around, his frown deepening. He paused on the roughly cobbled sidewalk. "I don’t understand these people at all."
Ranger stopped and faced his partner. "What do you mean?"
"Since we left the loading docks I’ve seen no sign of modern transportation. Most of these herrragh are on foot or riding beasts of some sort. Doesn’t it seem strange to you that such an advanced civilisation wouldn’t take advantage of the available technology?"
Ranger shrugged. "Not really. My people learned their lesson the hard way, Jaxx. The vedrathi had technology most societies couldn’t even dream of. They kept inventing bigger, better, more advanced machinery and industrial technology, and eventually, the atmosphere became lethal and we had to abandon our home planet. Any race that chooses not to walk that path is wise."
A mob of four-footed creatures were herded past them and, to Jaxxlar’s disgust, their excrement was scooped up by ruffless young street herrragh who yipped at the top of their lungs at passers-by to purchase their fine garden manure.
Ranger laughed at Jaxxlar’s expression. "The drinn are not gardeners, I take it."
Jaxxlar shook his head. "We are hunters. Flesh eaters. Not gardeners."
"You haven’t tasted anything until you’ve eaten fresh, organically grown vegetables, Jaxx."
"Organically grown. You mean, in that?"
"Nothing like a good heap of dung to get your plants going."
"I have no doubt," Jaxxlar wrinkled his nose, "that they grow to get away from the stench."
"Lighten up, Jaxx, you’re far too serious. Look out!" He pulled the drinn out of the way of a fast moving cart.
Making their way through the trade sector of Graffnagh was like negotiating a minefield. Stalls littered the sidewalks and hawkers accosted anyone who neared their brightly coloured barrows and carts. Several times Ranger was singled out to sample the tiny, live rodents most of the food vendors kept. He quickly learned to laugh and shake his head instead of appearing ill, as his distaste caused no end of mirth from the herrragh merchants.
Jaxxlar paused to purchase five of the creatures. He devoured them all with great enthusiasm. "Very tasty. I’m glad I won’t have to eat any of your vegetables."
Ranger grimaced at the sound of their bones being crunched. "I hope I won’t have to eat any of those things. Even if I do have to settle for eating rodents, I at least want them dead, and preferably cooked first." He shuddered at the thought.
Jaxxlar laughed and tugged him away from the stall. "Come on, we can’t afford to miss this meeting."
"Look." Ranger pointed to the opposite side of the road. On top of six long pikes were six severed heads. Five of them were herrragh. One was an orlicon. The putrifying bodies were stacked unceremoniously in a pile behind the pikes. "I hope we never incur the wrath of whoever’s responsible for that."
"Let’s get out of here." Jaxxlar quickened his pace.
The temple of Gahldurr was easy to find. It’s elaborately carved gold minarets dominated the skyline once they were clear of the taller buildings and the draped tents of the market stalls.
Ranger and Jaxxlar found themselves caught up in the steady stream of herrragh making their way towards the temple for the evening service. They allowed themselves to be swept along the cobbled road and through the temple’s ornate, heavily guarded gates. They expected to be stopped and questioned, but neither earned more than a passing glance from the guards.
Inside the temple grounds, Ranger and Jaxxlar pushed through the throng and over to one side.
Ranger squinted into the setting sun. "It’s almost time. Dorrraan said he’d be in the gardens along the left side of the temple."
"We hope!" Jaxxlar shook more dust from his hair and followed his partner through an arbor of ancient, twisted vines.
They came out into a circular garden with an imposing stone carving of the god Gahldurr in its centre. A large herrragh male stepped from behind the statue and waited for them to approach.
Jaxxlar and Ranger walked over to the herrragh, focussing their attention upon the herrragh’s chest so as not to give offence. When they were within reach, they both bowed their heads in deference for what they hoped was an appropriate time. They straightened and fixed their gazes on the statue to avoid looking directly into the face of the large male.
The herrragh walked around them, sniffing at their hair and skin, committing their scent to memory. He poked at their mind screens with his own considerable power. When he was satisfied that they were what they appeared to be, he spoke. "I am the Beta-Dorrraan. Who knows you are here?"
Jaxxlar and Ranger glanced at each other.
"Many people saw us," Jaxxlar commented, "but we did nothing to attract their attention."
"That is as well." Dorrraan stared disdainfully down his nose at them. "I was impressed by the dossiers you sent with your applications for this mission. You have a great deal of experience in the areas I require for your services. Are you agreeing to take this assignment?"
"If we agree with your terms," Ranger was watching Dorrraan’s aura. The colors were strong but darkly guarded and close to his body.
"Very well. The payment is as advertised."
Jaxxlar glanced sideways at the herrragh. "That is a considerable amount of credits, Beta-Dorrraan. What exactly would you be hiring us to do?"
Dorrraan’s lips curled up in a predatory smile. "Alpha-Brizzaal’s opposition, the Alpha-Corrrdaal, has a stronghold in the mountains overlooking the capital city of Brizzaal-adagh. He is a threat to this entire continent and must be stopped before he causes more dissent amongst our people. Corrrdaal has an elite pack of freedom fighters known as the shadow runners. These shadow runners have become a major nuisance and must be brought to their knees. They are murderers and thieves. Everywhere I travel I see evidence of their treachery. Innocent females and cubs are murdered and all their possessions and wealth are taken to the stronghold. They must be stopped."
Dorrraan’s hackles rose at the mention of the shadow runners and his voice dropped to a growl. "I want the alpha of the shadow runners assassinated. His name is Turrrvahk. Without him, the shadow runners will be easy prey for Alpha-Brizzaal’s death packs. Turrrvahk is Beta to the Alpha-Corrrdaal. Corrrdaal is your prime target. I want his head on a pike. But you will have to kill Turrrvahk to get to him."
Ranger eyed Beta-Dorrraan with suspicion. "You want two assassinations. That will cost you more."
Dorrraan glared at the vedrathian human. "I will offer you one hundred thousand more credits each and no more. The credits can be transferred into your accounts tonight if you agree to take this mission. What say you?"
Jaxxlar and Ranger looked at each other. After a brief telepathic exchange, they turned back to Beta-Dorrraan.
"We will accept this mission," Jaxxlar began, "but there are certain things we will require."
"Name them," Dorrraan growled.
"We require transport."
"Already arranged."
"We need Andaman credits."
"Done."
"And the weapons your customs officers took from us must be returned."
Dorrraan gestured behind him and two herrragh stepped through the dense shrubbery, each holding a quasaar. At a nod from the Beta, the herrragh handed the weapons to the aliens.
Ranger and Jaxxlar slung their quasaars over their shoulders and regarded Beta-Dorrraan warily.
Dorrraan waved the other two herrragh away and they melted back into the garden as easily and as silently as they had emerged. "As you can see," he smiled, "there is little that I cannot arrange."
"My restrictor?" Jaxxlar asked.
"Regrettably destroyed. Now, listen carefully. I have arranged for you to take employment with Goornagh as guards for his overland carreta. That will give you safe passage from here to the city of Gahl, where you will rendezvous with the shadow runners."
"How will we make contact with these shadow runners?" Ranger frowned up at the canine towering over him. The closer Dorrraan moved to him, the stronger was the odor of canine that pervaded his senses.
"They will be waiting." There was a low undertone to Dorrraan’s voice; a subliminal warning to not question. "They are expecting two alien weapon specialists who have been hired to work with them against the Alpha-Brizzaal. That is your cover story."
"You know these shadow runners personally?"
"I have connections." Dorrraan glared at the vedrathian until it looked away. "I want you two to take employment with the shadow runners. Learn all you can about them and whatever you can about Alpha-Corrrdaal’s plans. They have an army out there somewhere and I want to know where it is. When you know what they are up to, kill Turrrvahk and Corrrdaal and make your way down into Brizzaal-adagh."
"That is," Ranger added acerbically, "if we live that long."
Beta-Dorrraan showed his long canine teeth in a grin. "A fact that matters not. If you manage to kill the Alpha and Beta, it will help our cause greatly. If you can make it back to the capital with information, I will see to it that extra credits are made available for your trouble. If not?" He shrugged.
Dorrraan stared down at them. His golden eyes gleamed in the last rays of the evening sunlight. "If you fail to make the rendezvous at Gahl, you will be hunted down and destroyed. If you fail to complete your mission for any other reason than that you are dead, you will never make it off Andaman alive. Do I make myself clear?"
Jaxxlar glared defiantly at the herrragh until the force of Dorrraan’s stare caused him to look away. "How will you know that we’ve completed our mission? How will you know whether we have done all that you require or not?"
Dorrraan’s smile sharpened into a threatening snarl. He turned the ornately carved gold ring on his right middle claw until the amber stone flashed the same gold fire as his eyes. "I will know." He stared at the aliens, memorising their strange features. "You will stay at The Guardhouse tonight. You are expected, and your accommodation has been paid for. Report to Goornagh by tomorrow’s first light." He turned and walked around the statue, disappearing into the garden just as his assistants had earlier.
Jaxxlar and Ranger didn’t speak until they were beyond the temple grounds. They knew they were being watched by Beta-Dorrraan’s guards, but unless they got too close, they decided to ignore them.
"This is a suicide mission," Ranger commented.
Jaxxlar huffed in disgust. "What choice do we have? Thanks to your little escapade on Ghee, we don’t have enough credits between us to buy an hour with a whore."
Ranger stopped and stared at his partner. "Well, I wasn’t the one who got us deported."
"I didn’t start that fight." Jaxxlar glared at him.
"Really." Ranger folded his arms across his chest. "Then I suppose you accidentally jumped on that kethur’s tail."
"Well," Jaxxlar gestured expansively. "It just happened to be right under where I wanted to walk."
"Of course. And you couldn’t possibly have stepped over it, could you?"
"That kethur plonked his tail down right under my foot on purpose."
Ranger shook his head and walked on. "And that was when you were wearing your restrictor!"
Jaxxlar caught up and kept pace with him. "I can handle being without one."
"Yeah. Right. You nearly jumped that murrahm two minutes after we got here."
"I did not."
"You would have if I hadn’t pulled you back."
"He was arrogant," Jaxxlar huffed.
"They’re all arrogant. They’re murrahm."
"Don’t you worry about me. I can handle myself in any situation."
"Great! How very reassuring that is to know, especially as those were your exact words before you started the fight that landed us here."
"I didn’t start that fight!"
Ranger pointed to the large square building across the street. "That’s the Guardhouse. Try to keep yourself under control when we get inside. I don’t think they have deportation laws on Andaman. They just kill people who cause trouble. Especially aliens."
Jaxxlar grunted and followed him in silence.
#
The next morning, Ranger and Jaxxlar found the overland carretas on the outer limits of the city. A local trader begrudgingly directed them to a circular area known as the zarrfrah. This turned out to be little more than a flat, dusty expanse punctuated by a few threadbare trees. The burden beasts seemed to be any and every sort of creature capable of bearing or pulling loads. Ranger could find no uniformity of size or species in any one of the many strings of carretas. How the drivers managed to hitch the creatures together was anyone’s guess.
Everywhere, large, heavily ruffed herrr were standing over less statuesque males. Here, being smaller forced you into perpetual submission. Among Andaman’s dominant species, the spoken word was secondary to body language.
Ranger wondered whether it would be safer to assume a more passive persona. When standing beside a dominant male, he realised that although he almost had the height to match them, he had nowhere near the strength.
Passive males were bullied. They became the butt of every cruel jest or practical joke, and everywhere he looked, passive herrr scurried to do the bidding of their more dominant kin.
Ranger took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. If he and Jaxxlar could manage to be dominant enough to be left alone while remaining not quite dominant enough to be caught up in the endless displays of challenges, they might manage to become insignificant despite their alienness.
They made their way over to a portly herrragh standing on a platform, barking information to the carretaros.
The herrragh flattened his ears against his head when he saw the human and the drinn approaching. His tail stiffened and he stared straight at them. He appeared to take a particular dislike to Ranger, and watched him closely. He sniffed the air around him and licked his lips as though he wanted to take a bite out of him.
"Greetings." Ranger was careful to avert his gaze. The creature’s aura was a swirling mass of aggression. If he created a fight, it would put an end to their mission before it started. "We are looking for Goornagh." He hoped the herrragh could understand his butchered pronunciation. He could manage the excessively rolled rs, but the tonal inflections were a problem for anyone without a muzzle.
The herrragh didn’t speak. He pointed with his staff to a mismatched line of vehicles facing north. Ranger dipped his head in thanks and gestured for Jaxxlar to join him. Two murrahm pushed by them and climbed onto a carreta loaded with explosives. Ranger and Jaxxlar gave them a wide berth.
A herrragh carrying a long stock whip barred their way from the string of carretas. He growled a series of words in a dialect they didn’t understand.
Jaxxlar answered him in the common herrragh trade dialect that most races could manage to an acceptable degree. Being drinn gave him an added advantage. The shape of his ears and mouth meant that he could hear and make the same range of sounds as the herrragh.
Ranger stood with his head bowed. He understood the basics of the body language and the mid-range sounds of the conversation, but his ears were not designed to pick up on sub or supersonic noises. For this, he had to rely on Jaxxlar. Instead of directly watching their exchange, he cautiously scanned the herrragh’s aura. It galled him to have to put his trust in a creature that once used to hunt vedrathians for food. But the writhing colors of the herrragh’s aura left no doubt as to his opinion of the genetically engineered half-herrragh half-elf he was forced to communicate with. Neither he nor Jaxx were going to be safe anywhere on Andaman.
The herrragh switched to the trade dialect. "You’ll find Goornagh at the water hole."
Jaxxlar bowed his head as the herrragh strode away. When he turned to Ranger, he eyed the vedrathian’s stance with some amusement. "That’s the first time I’ve seen you looking demure."
"I was being submissive."
"Yes." A deep chuckle rumbled from Jaxxlar’s throat. "But demure suits you."
Scowling, Ranger followed him across the rutted roads to the quagmire the herrragh had referred to as the water hole.
Some beasts wallowed. Others drank. Herrragh barked commands and snapped their whips at their charges. The fettered mud was black, the water yellow. Ranger was loath to walk through any of it lest it rot his boots. He pointed to a silver ruffed herrragh astride a shaggy, long-necked beast. *The carretaro,* he sent telepathically to Jaxxlar.
Six ruffless males who were tending a herd of wallowing beasts jumped at the mounted herrragh’s every growl.
"We’ll try him," Jaxxlar suggested. "Do you want to stand and look demure, or do you want to do the talking?"
Ranger strode past Jaxxlar with his chin raised.
The drinn’s lips drew back from his teeth in a grin.
Ranger approached the mounted herrragh cautiously. "Are you Goornagh?"
"Who wants to know?" A ridge of hair bristled along the herrragh’s back as he took in the aliens who addressed him — a drinn without a restrictor and a human.
"We’ve been hired as guards for one of Goornagh’s shipments. We would speak to him regarding our assignment."
The herrragh sniffed the air, his nose twitching. "I am Goornagh." He pointed to the wallowing herd. "My beasts are the finest runners and pullers on Andaman. I am taking them and a carga of goods overland to Sastashnagh. I need to make sure they get there alive. Understand?"
Ranger nodded. When the male turned his eyes fully on him, he could feel the strength of his mind power. Little wonder other races gave the herrragh plenty of room.
"You will get paid in gold chinkas when we arrive in Sastashnagh. Not before. And not if less than three-quarters of my herd survives. Understand?"
Again, Ranger nodded, hoping the herrragh understood vedrathian body language. He felt himself being scanned and slammed his mind shield down, but not quick enough. It was swept aside by the will of the herrragh like a spider web. Ranger was left feeling shaken and exposed. Thankfully the herrragh observed the same protocol most operant races conformed to, and looked no deeper than the superficial level of his most immediate thoughts and memories.
"I accept your services. We leave from this spot at sunrise tomorrow. And Vedrathian, keep that drinn under control. I will not have it eating my stock," he glared at Jaxxlar, "nor my guards." Goornagh turned his steed and trotted around the edge of the mud hole.
Ranger let his breath whistle out through his teeth. He shrugged to Jaxxlar.
The drinn drew his lips back from his canine teeth. "Perhaps I didn’t look demure enough."
