Blood Hope

The huge scarlet pavilion dominated the south corner of the non-humans section of the camp where it met that occupied by the humans. Isranon's general, Nans Gryphonheart, had insisted upon the segregation to reduce the chance of friction. She had spread the myn of her original unit, the Rowdies, through all the groups, mostly as officers.

The gaudy pavilion served as a line of demarcation between the lycan units and the human. More than one hundred nibari were in the herd that Isranon had claimed as reparations from the sa'necari households his army defeated at Ocealay. The nibari were genetically altered human cattle, bred for docility over the centuries by the vampires and sa'necari. They produced high levels of endorphins, and very low levels of adrenaline – too low to allow for aggressive behavior.

The majority of the nibari in their herd were female, while most of the humans in their company were male. In order to avoid dissention in the ranks arising over the non-humans' access to females and the humans lack of it, Isranon had established a brothel for the troops by rotating a portion of his nibari slaves to serve in the Scarlet Tent.

Captain Luck Settlesby had served in Nans' freeranger rescue unit for over twenty years. He had been just fourteen and his older half-brother, Itch Hollins, seventeen when they signed up with her. They had earned their freerangers' runes while traveling the northeastern and central eastern portions of the Merezian continent with her.

Luck kept himself occupied and his phlegmatic nature did not lend itself to brooding; although there were times when he felt bitter and angry about Itch's death just over a year ago. The Scarlet Tent helped take the edge off his tensions and not a day passed without his getting in a bit of rutting. He had taken a particular liking to a golden-haired nibari called Farris and whenever she rotated into the tent, Luck reserved himself two sessions a day between her legs.

He emerged from the Scarlet Tent feeling satiated and relaxed. The rain had stopped. Luck pushed his broad-brimmed hat back on his head and spied Iuf walking past. He frowned at how gaunt and lined Iuf's face had become; the circles beneath his eyes were so dark they looked bruised. The branching crow's feet spread around his eyes looked more deeply-sunk than before, etched into skin that had been weathered to the texture of old leather from years spent in the saddle. "You okay?"

Iuf paused, pulling at his grizzled beard as he waited for Luck to reach him. "Sort of. I was on my way to see Amiri. I need to get more of her tonics."

"Still sick?" Luck's eyes narrowed, settling on the scarf that Iuf wore. Most of the myn wore heavy wool scarves around their necks to deal with the late autumn cold; however it seemed as if the way that Iuf wore it so carefully placed was suspicious. He wondered how many bite marks he would find on Iuf's aged neck.

"Yeah. Just a mite."

"Can I walk with you?"

"If you want." Iuf shrugged.

"She say what's wrong?"

"Gave it a fancy name I can't pronounce."

"I heard that Amiri took you off active standing. Does Nans know?"

"Not yet. First big city we reach, I'll be leaving the company."

Luck frowned in concern. "That bad?"

"Yeah."

Luck walked Iuf to Amiri's tent and wagons. The Ymraude shaman had two wagons and a large tent. Since she cared for all the ills of the company, the humans had had to get over their initial uneasiness at having a vampire as the main healer and surgeon for the army. However, most of them, Luck included, preferred dealing with Randilyn over Amiri. It was not entirely because Amiri was a vampire. Her stone cold way of dealing with myn did not go over as well as Randilyn's warm concern.

Iuf went inside the tent and Luck considered following, and then changed his mind. While Iuf and he were old friends, the mon was not in any of Luck's units and that made it none of his business. So he decided to give Iuf his privacy.

He turned at the sound of young voices and spied Disharyl Scathwick first. Only a few of Anksha's blood-slaves had that much freedom to move about the camp. Disharyl was one of them. She had been Liuthan Loosestrife's principal bio-alchemist on his estates in Ocealay; and Amiri employed her skills with herbs and arcane substances. Luck had never been comfortable around Disharyl, and it was not simply because she was sa'necari. Something about her had never rung true for him. She was small, buxom, and somehow tawdry although he could not quite place his finger on why he perceived her that way.

Jingen Scathwick ran past Luck and threw his arms around his mother and she kissed the top of his head. The boy had just turned thirteen. He was one of the two oldest of Anksha's twenty-eight child slaves, sa'necari-born, branded and collared, but not held in the destructive bondage of her Dominance Link. Jingen released his mother to give Luck a polite smile and dip of his shoulders.

Luck turned about, knowing that where Jingen went, his sullen companion, Stygean Loosestrife, was frequently close behind. Stygean carried an armload of firewood into the circle created by the two wagons and Amiri's big tent.

"Staying out of trouble?" Luck stepped closer to the boy.

Stygean dropped the wood in a pile near the fire and backed away from Luck with an uncertain expression that soured into a glare. "I'm not allowed to visit my father until my chores are done."

Luck studied the boy's eyes, noting the hatred in them. A shift in Stygean's scarf as the boy moved revealed the edge of the slave collar laying beneath it. "Then you better get to it."

Stygean snarled and ran off.

Luck could understand why his friend, Travis Potshard, disliked the boy; however Luck himself had mixed feelings.

GODWAR CENTRAL

Blood Hope