The Last Mage

Chapter 27: Visitors

The rabbits lay in the clearing illuminated by the waxing moon. Some few grazed on the sparse forest grass and bushes while most rested, laying on their bellies heads tilted back exposing their throats. He sat at the far side of the clearing deciding which one to take. There were numerous large bucks that would make a good meal. Derrel wasn't much hungry having gorged himself on field mice when they stopped for lunch. But he had taken to bringing back fresh meat to the girls. Trail provisions only satisfied for so long and Jefferey was no hunter. It took a while for the girls to convince him Derrel's catches were clean enough. After he started he found it quite amusing the looks he got from the soldier. It was bordering on jealousy. A cat could provide for his charges better than he. They still didn't know what kind of cat he was and he worked hard to keep it that way. The girls reassured Jefferey they weren't being followed, claiming cats adopted families all the time. Jefferey had stopped throwing rocks at him and he stopped taking Jefferey's bootlaces each night.

He decided on a smaller buck near the outskirts of the group. He knew as soon as he got three feet to them they would smell his very faint odor. Sometimes that was enough to send a group scattering. So foregoing a few pounds was in his favor. He moved around to get closer to his prey and that's when he smelt it. Definite fox. He had moved downwind and now he could see the fox in a bush choosing his own prey. If Derrel had been hungry he would have taken a rabbit and let the fox find new game but a fox wasn't bad company. Many times the fox found food when he couldn't. He left the clearing without disturbing the rabbits and made his way back to camp.

He almost passed the horses without noticing the man. He was holding the horses keeping them calm and quiet. His mitchmatch clothing marked him as a bandit. Derrel moved toward the fire hearing the voices of two or three men. He moved silently into camp looking over the situation. Jefferey was sprawled on his face one man standing over him while another four were tying the girls together. Requel kicked a man who pinched her while another laughed about their good catch. Eryn was already gagged as was expected.

He sniffed Jefferey keeping an eye on the large man nearby. Jefferey was alive though Derrel could smell a fair amount of blood. The raucous laughing of the four by the girls made his blood boil. Women were venerated in Tash, the man who hurt one punished harshly according to the crime. Northerners had no such respect, many of the women making themselves available. Amber was near tears and he could see the rage in Eryn's eyes. He decided the man with the horses was dead first.

The bandits settled down to enjoy the fire talking over Jefferey's prone form. Derrel listened to them only halfheartedly focusing on finding the lone man. When he found him he was examining the legs of Jefferey's mount. His throat was exposed and at Derrel's level. A quick swipe of his inch long claws and the mans life was near ended. The horses shied at the smell and sight of blood as the man collapsed. There was no sign the men in camp were noticing the commotion. Derrel worked to spook the horses a little more. They were tied securely so they weren't going anywhere. He singled out Jefferey's mount as the most nervous and got the desired snorting, shifting and neighing.

Two of the men soon came to investigate. He had hoped for just one. They moved their torch close examining the four deep gouges in their companions neck.

"Go tell Leon we got a mountain cat or something killed Garret." The scarred man shoved the younger to get him moving then scanned the area holding the torch high. Derrel kept his eyes half closed knowing any reflection would give him away. Three of the men came from the fire to examine the body and horses. Derrel approached the lone guard who had a knife in his hand examining the forest. He had too much confidence in the fire and the weapon fell uselessly from his hands as Derrel's claws split his jugular. The girls made no noise though he could see their fear. A man had died in front of them without a visible enemy. He ignored them for the moment. The men were coming back dragging their fallen comrade. They dropped him unceremoniously upon seeing the dead man by the fire his clean knife near his hand.