5

Early that evening, a few hours after loosing his shirt to the drunk, with the sun just falling fully below the city walls so that the shadow covered all but the palace itself, Jassen met up for dinner with his siblings and Jack. Kreff had the small private meeting room set up for the meal, the cook making up a meal usually reserve for holiday or formal gathering. The room usually used for staff meetings, interviews of new potential employees, the occasional group of merchants that wanted a private place to discuss things, etc… That night it would hold court over Jassen Jeesic, formerly known as Jethen Krest.

They sat and ate in silence until finally Cleef could take it no longer as she stared at the new Tiger-Wolf who seemed so familiar. “Okay! Enough!″ Slamming her fists on the table, the contents jumping with the force. ″Kreff, you’ve been weird all bloody damn day! Now Jack is here.” Turning to Jassen. “Who the hell are you!?!”

Finishing his bite and swallowing. Jassen took a deep breath and a drink to wash the food down, knowing that was probably the last bite he was going to have for awhile. “My name is Jassen Jessic. That is the name I was given by my master, the person who bought me, who paid to have me trained, fed, cared for, etc... While I have since earned my freedom, nearly 15 years free now, I still bear the scars from my former master's whip as he got me to accept that name over the one I was born with. In addition to all the scars I earned in the arena′s.”

Growling. “And what was that name?”

Sighing. ″You were only a cub yourself, just a baby, not even a year little sister. I am, or I was, Jethen Krest, the younger of your two older brothers.”

Her eye’s going wide, the disbelief and recognition warring in her eyes. “That’s impossible. Jethen was lost to the river. Kreff has beat himself up about it for my entire life.”

Sighing and looking sadly at his sister. “Yes Cleef. I have beaten myself up, but only because I knew that I had to keep secret what truly happened. Because to not do so would have been war. War with the wolves of Jerrrivff.”

Sitting down heavily. “What?” Looking at Jack. “Did you know this?”

Nodding sadly. “I did. Only your parents, Kreff because he was almost captured himself, Darren, and the Baron knew. A few guards that were directly involved, and more may have suspected I am sure, especially with that wolf still in the dungeon.”

“What? How? Wait, how the hell does the Tailor fit into this?”

Jassen sits forward, pushing his plate back slightly. “If I can try and explain, as it is really more my story than Kreef's. We were in the Eastern forest doing some light hunting, really just goofing off, sparing, when they found us. A raiding or scouting party, not really sure. I never asked Yeeketh, though I suppose I should at some point. Probably didn’t know they were in Barony territory as the forest goes well past the border, and it was closer then than it it is now, based on the maps I have seen.″

Jack nods. ″Actually due to concessions the Baron was able to get due to what happened to you.″

Nodding. ″I see. That makes sense.″ Pausing to collect the story in him mind as he remembered the moment those many decades before that his life changed forever. ″When they came upon us, we ran as hard as we could. We knew the woods, but they were adult wolves. I saw Kreff jump for the river, a wolf tackling him as they fell into the water. I was just not fast enough. My five year old legs just couldn’t outrun them. Not over that last clear hundred meters of open ground to the river bank, maybe if I had stayed in the forest, kept running from them there... I almost made it.

I fought, bit, scratched, and screamed, but was quickly subdued. Sure. I was as strong as any single one of them were, but there were six of them on me. I didn’t stand a chance. A knee to the side of the head and I woke up in a cage with other furs. They were slavers, and I was a prize catch.....”

# Mak 19th, 1225

Decades earlier, in the eastern forests north of the city of Kreeh, two young Tiger-Wolves spar halfheartedly. Dodging amongst the trees, and generally just goofing off.

Dodging a kick and blocking a punch, following the block with a sharp blow to the chest against his brother. ″Come on Kreff! We should go dive that city again. We haven't really explored the third section.″

Retreating from the blow. ″As much as I want to Jethen, mom and dad about had my head the last time they found out we went diving.″

″But I won't tell, and I didn't last time!″ Blocking several blows from his brother and dodging around a tree.

″Yeah, and if we find something like last time?″

They both stop mid-blow, looking past their sibling. A large wolf steps from the brush. ″Well. What do we have here? Not seen your kind before. You'll probably make us quite the price in Threk.″

Kreff's voice falls low. ″Slavers… Jethen, the river.″

″Got it, but we're going to have to get past several of them.″

″Right.″ Turning slowly to take in the additional wolves stepping into view. ″You don't want to do this.″

″Oh? And what are you children going to do? A teenager and a child?″ Laughing. ″Please. We are eight adult wolves.″

Instead of responding, Kreff and Jethen turn and run for the river. Jethen Leaping towards the first wolf in their way, planting his feet in this chest and riding him down, spinning as the wolf falls, his claws shredding the flesh of the wolfs chest as he screams in pain. Leaping towards the opening and running for all the 5 year old Tiger-Wolf was worth.

Kreff had swept the legs of the other wolf, and drove an elbow into the his chest, the bones breaking with an audible crack. He was up a fraction of a second later, rolling through from the blow and nearly decapitating another wolf with a spin kick, his claws connecting with the wolfs neck, before following his brother and overtaking him quickly. His longer teenage legs making larger strides.

They broke out into the 100 yards of clear grass between the forest and the river. Yelling to his brother. ″Don't look back, go for everything you are worth!″

They ran for all they were worth. Kreff leaping for the river as a Wolf tackled him, both of them splashing into the river. Jethen was not so lucky. He was tackled just 10 meters from the river, just as Kreff made his leap. He was up and fighting quickly, slashing, kicking, and punching. He crushed the knee of the first wolf that was on him. Extracting himself from the howling wolf, he tried to run, but before he could turn for the river again, three more wolves caught up to him. He fought for everything he was worth, claws flashing and ripping into flesh, but they were three, then six, and he was pinned on the ground and tied up, screaming and biting until they tied his muzzle as well.

Jethen struggled and fought, even tied up, straining the ropes until a sharp kick to the side of his head brought a flash of pain and darkness.

#

Kreff crawled up the bank of the river just north of the bridge into the main city, dragging the wolf with him. The wolf was unconscious and would have drowned had Kreff not been a good swimmer. He would have let him drown too, but as he tumbled when the wolf hit him in midair, he saw Jethen get tackled by another of the wolves, with more right behind. The city guards seeing him pulling himself and the wolf from the river, quickly ran over, and helping him, asked what happened.

Taking the weight of the wolf off Kreff so he could catch his breath. ″Kreff, what are you doing in the river this close to the city, and what is with the wolf?″

Shaking himself to clear some of the water from his fur. ″He's a slaver. They ambushed Jethen and I in the north eastern forest.″

Dumping the wolf on the ground and pulling his sword. ″Slaver? I'll do him a favor then...″

Kreff leaping to stop the guard. ″NO! I saw them tackle Jethen, he may be the only way to find him.″

Glaring at the wolf, but putting away his sword. ″Fine.″ Shackling the wolf instead. ″Lets get him to the captain.″

They carry the wolf into the city and dump him into a cell. Kreff telling his story to the captain of the guard, then to the Barron himself. His parents called in and search parties quickly organized. The wolf gives up the location of their camp, after some discussion, and being fitted for a guillotine collar.

Unfortunately, the slavers had broken camp the moment they had returned, taking their wounded with them and making good time for the border. The search parties never had a chance. The Barron opened diplomatic efforts with the neighboring nation, but due to the political climate, war would have been the result if they had pushed too hard. The efforts to find Jethen were called off after only a day.

The Barron with Jack echoing the sentiment, made the plea to Kreff and his parents personally, that the story was that Jethen had drowned, washed down stream by the river. That there was nothing they could do, save declaring war, did not make the decision any easier, but heartbroken at losing their son and brother, Kreff and his parents agreed. One life for thousands in a war, a war that likely would not find him.

#

Jethen woke with a moan as he was sharply tossed against something hard. It was the side and floor of an enclosed cart. He sat up and found he was no longer bound, looking at the doors, he saw them open again as the wolves, several with bandages, were forcing a small fox into the cart. Jethen leapt from the cart, driving his claws into the chest and neck of the closest wolf, then using him as a spring board to kick at the second wolf. He connected, but only enough to scratch him and knock him back.

With a flash of his claws he severed the ropes binding the fox. ″RUN!!″ He screamed and they charged for the nearby forest. The fox did not hesitate and made it into the forest. Jethen nearly did, before he was tackled just short of the first trees. They ignored the fox in favor of him, and a sharp punch to the side of his head again brought pain and darkness, though not before he clawed up several of those who held him down, and crushed the ankle of one of the wolves in his jaws. He gave in to unconsciousness with the taste of the wolfs blood on his tongue.