Chương 317: 4.7

Evren nuzzled against his mother's side. Holding back the tears of relief that she was still safe. That none of his family had by some trickery been harmed despite the promises made to the stars.

"Oh Evren! you are going to topple your poor mother! Back boy!" He drew his snout away from her with his ears back in shame, but he could not apologize. Not for making sure she was healthy and whole. The only words that managed to pry themselves from his lips were a soft whisper.

"I missed you." And now her ears twitched back before she forced them high and her eyes clenched a bit with a hint of worry before warming with the pride of her smile.

"Oh Evren my boy. We missed you too, even with all the 'help' from the foreigners the lord has sent us, you were always the best with the flocks. My wonderful little shepherd!" Evren sighed hard, just breathing in the scent of his mother, of his family. The smell of them filled this strange house with its fresh cut stones, over rich perfumes and foreign fabrics. Atleast Dorka was happy with all of the new dresses she could wear.

Evren's brothers Elek, Hunor and Hazim also enjoyed the chance to have fine clothes and to avoid the usual labor of seeing to the sheep. But even Dorka (who was only just older then Evren himself) could tell that life was different then it had been in more ways than luxury. Their new overlarge house had come with a 'steward', a stub-faced foreigner from the lord who ruled in the valley. He was the one who directed others to 'help' tend the flock.

He was the one who 'recommended' how Evren's family should behave to better fit their new 'station', And with the steward came men to guard Evren's family. With them came servants to see to the cleaning and the cooking and anything else that his family might have wanted. Not that Mother could stand to stay out of the kitchens most nights. Yes she didn't get up quite so early to start the fires now. But she, like Father, knew what all of the strangers that now surrounded them really were.

Just like Evren his family had keepers. He was finally back home again, with his family, but their house was gone, torn down and replaced with this sprawling thing. They were surrounded by strangers who would say one thing and do another. But his mother was there against his face, fingers running through his fur and mane. Soothing the pain and tension that had built up over the year he was kept away.

"Mother... in Kars, I slew five men. Five of the city's soldiers." She didn't flinch from him like he had worried in his nights alone, she simply leaned against his brow and embraced him around the neck and jaw. Squeezing him close as she rested her chin between his ears. Whispering so soft only he would hear.

"My sweet child, Are you safe? Are we?" He moved only barely in a nod to her question, his words coming in a rush, soft and thick.

"I think so? The 'regent' scolded me without saying as such, but he said nothing about you. I know I shouldn't have mother! But I couldn't not, they were awful men, they chased a girl to such terror she ran on all fours! They had beaten her mother til she was blind in one eye! The girl was so afraid! she looked like Dorka!" His mother squeezed her jaw hard against his head, her arms wrapped around his jawline as she stooped over him then drew back and held his cheeks so he knew to tilt up to meet her gaze.

All the anger he had worried would be there was nowhere to be seen.

"Evren, my poor child, never apologize for doing what is right and true by you. You saved the girl? She was unharmed?" He could only nod.

"The 'regent' had the woman tended to by a temple, a god mended her wounds and made her eye whole again. Both stood and walked free last I saw." Which got a firm nod from Mother, her ears perked high with attention.

"Good, you did a good thing child, a thing I and your father will be proud of. But you have to be careful. For all of us." Evren nodded, so relieved he nearly cried. His Mother was not angry with him. He could smell it in her fur, see it in her face, hear it in her heart and blood.

"Now then, how about you go find your fool brother Hazim. He's supposed to be seeing that our 'helpers' don't scatter the flocks." Evren nodded to his mother, curling back over himself to make his way out of the still far too big room. His parent's space in the new house was separate, His brothers and sister given their own chambers each away from the family. It worried him that somehow the work of their keepers might be managing to drive the family apart.

But he'd spoken with Dorka about it before he met with Mother." Don't be silly Evren! It's just a bit of room, Hunor and Hazim would have already moved out by now to start their own families. Honestly the move really threw both of them off, Hunor's girl even left him over the commotion of it all!" Poor Hunor, he'd just been starting to court the valley baker's second daughter when the lord's men found Evren. The idea that the new house had spoiled his brother's chances?

Evren shook it off as he took a turn from the entry of the overly large house that had been built where his parent's old one had stood. It was wood and fresh cut stone done in the style of the richer houses in Kars. Not the familiar old stones and mortar of the old hill house. His family now lived in the house of a lord! If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. Not a shepherd's family home!

The other changes to the hills around the land that now officially belonged to his family were less pronounced but they still stung his eyes. Trails had been widened into roads and graded for the wheels of carts. Close to the house the hilly earth had been covered by the small stone style of the roads of the cities and villages. Sharp fresh things cut out of the cliffs nearby where Evren could spot the gouges and wounds from chisels and picks.

Aged and weathered stone he had grown up knowing all his life was cleaved open, its insides exposed with shining pale tan in places. Good fresh green pasture that the sheep had enjoyed nibbling along the narrower trails had been cleared away from the shade of the hill. The earth of it now spoke of the regular traffic of wooden wheels and heavy hooves.

When Evren had still lived here and guided his family flock the earth had spoken only to him of his steps, those of the shepherds and their families and the hooves of the flocks. But the land did not begrudge him the change. His hills welcomed him home as he strode up and over them. Wings kept closed to avoid catching the heavier breezes that ran around the raised swells of the foothills. Carrying scent of pine and even a hint of snow from the highest peaks east.

Where the Vaultwall rose and the easternmost heaven's pillar towered. In summer its shadow fell south, but in fall that shadow would be cast over his family's valley until noon. The shade giving respite and moisture and autumn dew to the summer parched highlands. In winter it would fall north, sparing them the deepest chill. His brother's steps were familiar to Evren. Even wrapped in the strange cloth shoes that the city folk and lords preferred.

Even though he could smell the sweat that was soaking through them from his brother smothering his feet instead of leaving the pads free to breath. His family and all the shepherds of the hills had firmer feet then the slabs of pink flesh of the valley men. Mother called Hazim a fool for good reason. Even their snub faced neighbors only wore thin leather or straps holding a thick sole to their feet in summer.

Letting the Lord's men convince him to wear something so smothering over his pads where he sweated the easiest was hardly better than going completely covered in the city. Of all Evren's family Hazim was the most eager for the 'gifts' of the lords. Not even Dorka fawned over the wealth of their new position like Hazim.

"Evren, Child of the hills, Son and brother of Gutti, may I beg a word with you?" The wyrm who was called wolf prince whirled on the voice. He knew these hills, he knew their smell, he knew their sound. He knew every person who walked them. Even the strangers brought up to 'help' his family. He had never heard that voice before, here or anywhere. As he turned and flared his nostrils he was left shocked still. Standing upon a stone outcropping Evren knew as well as his own tail was a black cat.

Eyes shining like gold with a floppy hat of blood red cloth nestled between its perked ears. But also it was something not like a cat at all. Evren knew cats, a few of his neighbors and the people in the valley kept them. Cats had expressive eyes and shared some of the bearing of them with his family. The ears were the most familiar. By ears and eyes alone he would think this cat as curious and eager. Perhaps having spotted a mouse or a bird. But there was more to that feline face than what should have been there.

The beast before him who had certainly spoken had a smile which reminded him far too much of the liars in Kars. In a similar way that his family and most of their neighbors resembled but were not like the hounds of the hills. So was this cat not like an actual cat, its lips moved in a way no cat ever would. Also it had spoken. The accent was a foreign one, maybe a northern one? It spoke the language of Magarska. But unlike with any other speaker Evren had ever heard the meaning seemed so much clearer.

It looked like a cat. But his mother raised him to be better than those that hated them. A man was a man no matter his shape or fur. A woman as well. Still he'd never seen anyone who looked so much like a cat before.

"I could speak with you for a short time sir, But not long, I need to see to my elder brother and his work with the flocks. Whom might you be stranger?" The cat nodded to him in acknowledgement, looking over Evren from his snout to his tail. Settling for a lingering time on his wings such that the wyrm felt the need to ruffle his feathers from a phantom itch.

"I am Fizzbunches of the Trifold city of Ghergeintat, And I have wished to meet you for your entire life." Evren stilled at that. A name he had heard, in tales sung by a traveler that stayed the night and ate with them at the price of song and word from afar. A story of a distant place, a vault that was all narrow canyons and a city that filled the place where two rivers met and became one. The trifold city. Where three realms joined.

Where silver and gold passed as freely between the hands of children as the richest lord and the alleys had golden watchful eyes. Ghergeintat a place so riddled in passages to other vaults that it was said a third of the world could be reached from the darkness beneath it. The beating black heart of the narrow lands with an ever empty throne. Evren stared at the man, the creature who was not a cat. He looked into golden eyes that shone with fires and gold. He felt the storm in his heart tremble.

"Why did you want to meet me sir Fizzbunches?" The name felt strange and foreign on his tongue, silly as well. The white fangs peaked from the grinning lips in that tiny snout. Ears perked forward in interest and delighted curiosity.

"Why, to offer you and your family my services. To aid you in your trials against those that would bind you. I have some experience in seeing right by those that others would chain." Evren stilled. He thought of one of the songs that traveler had sung about Ghergeintat." Seven lords and kings did once preside. Each sat on that throne, all of them tried. Sought the riches of those streets and told many lies. But the greed of these men would all be denied. That empty throne those seven dared ride.

So in Ghergeintat each of them died." Evren stared at the man who looked like a cat and called himself Fizzbunches. He looked into golden eyes. He thought of the lords and their traps, of the steward and regent. Of the Highking who could lie while telling the truth.

"How would you help me and my family?"