Two of a Kind - 2. Chapter 2: Back and Forth

Cavel's breath was frozen in his throat as his gaze shifted from the swinging branches that were already settling to Saulle's smirking face. His body began to shake and his eyes were riveted on his second in command whose cocky expression faded into fear as he took in the sheer rage in Cavel's eyes. The entire group remained motionless until Cavel took one step toward Saulle; as soon as he moved they shifted away, leaving a wide space around the hapless victim of Cavel's fury.

"You fucking idiot! You have no idea what you have done in your insolence!" Hissing, his hand swiped out as he stood over Saulle who had sunk to his knees. Blood splattered from a split in Saulle's bottom lip from the strong blow he did not even try to avoid. Cavel was alpha and held Saulle with the force of his eyes and will alone. His animal nature detected threat from Saulle and demanded he put the weaker man in his place.

"His entire clan is gone. I just heard him swear to guide us to the Temple on the spirits of his mother and his lost clan. HIS ENTIRE CLAN!" Cavel roared. He hit Saulle again and broke his nose, sending a spray of blood across the ground.

"He has been alone here, in this jungle without any help to stay sane, for years. He has suffered from isolation and just the struggle to survive on his own had to have been more than you have borne in your entire life. He will be a part of our clan; he is already a part of me. Just as you knew Nallelija as your mate, I know him for my mine. I can feel some of what he does already; loneliness and fear, determination and dedication to his honor. Not an hour ago I warned you that he was mine and you were not to challenge him. Do you think to know better than I what is right for this clan and for my mating? Do you think to challenge me?"

Saulle shook his head frantically said nothing, his eyes downcast as he shook in fear. He was a strong warrior and smart, but Cavel could tell from the way he acted that he felt threatened and that made him lash out at Bashta. As his mate, the young man would be alpha to Saulle. Of course with his power he would be the moment he transformed even if he had not been Cavel’s mate, but Saulle could not feel that. No matter what his reasons, disobeying a direct command would not be allowed.

"You are close to banishment," hissed Cavel. "I will not tolerate anyone in my clan who does not know their place. Let us see then how well you would survive alone and without the succor of our family."

"No please, My Lord," Saulle said painfully through his bleeding lips, "I... I will..."

Cavel cut him off, "You will apologize, on your knees, if Bashta comes back. If we lose him as a guide and any of our kitlings die I will personally skin you and nail your hide to my wall in a warning to any who would think to question me."

Saulle blanched; Cavel did not make idle threats. If he said he would skin him he would take a knife and do it personally, unless Saulle’s mate did it herself. Their kitlings were the most important thing, nothing else mattered. If it took him kneeling to Bashta, that was what it would take. Cavel would not allow dissension in his clan and his mate would be second in command after they bonded. Saulle had to accept that before he did something Cavel would not be able to overlook and he would have to kill him.

"Am I perfectly clear?" Cavel hissed.

Saulle crouched down, abasing himself. "Yes, My Lord."

Cavel stared into the trees where Bashta disappeared. Breathing hard he turned sharply and stalked into his tent, an abrupt slap of his hand shutting the flap. For several long moments the men in the clan stood motionless before moving quietly to their places around the camp. All talk was kept to a whisper and no one looked directly at Saulle where he remained kneeling in his disgrace.

***

Bashta was making his way quickly through the trees after he left the camp, locked in his memories and the swamped again by the despair of losing his entire clan. His first instinct was to flee to safety and security in one of his hiding places in the jungle. He had become so used to being alone; the camp full of men had rattled his composure. Humans had always made him nervous, his mother had taught him to avoid them as a kitling but the years he had been without his clan had changed him. He wasn't easy in the company of other Carthera anymore either; especially fully grown males now that he had matured. He had seen the posturing in his own clan but as a kitling it had made little sense.

Leaving the relatively wide path that he frequently traveled between the rivers and his hunting areas, Bashta climbed up a tree using vines and convenient branches. He was careful to take a slightly different path each time to each of his hiding places so that no worn patches on the bark or scarred vines would betray his presence. He was almost out of the canopy when he stopped at a wide platform made of woven branches, vines, and leaves.

He bypassed the soft perch and went about ten feet higher in the tree until he penetrated the treetop. Looking about he enjoyed the breeze ruffling the hair around his shoulders. To the east were the high snow topped mountains and to the south the mighty Amazon. The rest was jungle as far as his eye could see. He looked back the direction he came from the camp and saw nothing. No flocks of birds were flying out of the treetops, disturbed by followers. He was safe.

Spending a few more minutes enjoying the wind Bashta stared at the falling sun that was sinking into fluffy clouds that were blushing pink along their edges just as his mother’s favorite giant water lilies. Bashta remembered his mother laughing as he gingerly balanced to pluck one for her and ended up falling in the water instead. A tear dripped down his cheek but he angrily dashed it away. It did him no good to cry over his lost loved ones. He had cried over and over when his mother left him; it certainly hadn’t made him less alone then and it would not help him now. Ignoring the sunset, Bashta carefully made his way down the slender branches to his waiting nest.

***

Cavel's head was twisting around madly as he scanned the jungle. He looked at the sentry. "Any sign?" He had ordered anyone who saw Bashta to send him a message immediately or bring the youth to him if he would agree to come into camp. Saulle saw the glower Cavel sent his way and had slunk off to a boulder on the far side of the camp from his tent as soon as he got up.

"Nothing."

Cavel frowned and turned to face the thick jungle. Dim light, giant trees, dangerous animals all made it a treacherous place for the unknowledgeable. The scents triggered ancient instincts in him but did not help him find the Temple. The pull to explore it’s depths tugged on his inner animal but it was a green maze that he could not find their way out of. His chest heaved in a great sigh. "Damn it! What in the hell am I going to do?"

He turned back around and watched the men working efficiently. His tent was the last thing to pack and it was being folded up into its bag right then. His hand went up to his hair and Cavel tugged on it in frustration. He had no idea what direction to go in. The mountains would be the best place to look for a temple in his opinion. but what did he know? He'd never been to one, not even one of those Jewish places downtown at home. He cursed again.

"Maybe you should trust in my word."

Cavel gasped and spun around. "How did you? Where did you?" he stuttered and then trailed off. Bashta looked very wet and very cool in just his loincloth. Water trickled down from his long hair and over his chest muscles to drip off one nipple. It was all Cavel could do not to moan and jump him in front of everyone. Suddenly the room behind his zipper was all too small.

His clan stiffened in surprise. Bashta had appeared in their midst as if by magic. Cat like ears, noses, and eyes that were better than a human’s meant that they were particularly good at knowing when anything approached them. But he hadn't made a sound and none of them had caught his scent or seen him approach. It was startling.

Bashta jumped lightly to the ground, landing with a gentle thump. "I made a promise. I don't go back on my word." He glared at Saulle who shifted guiltily. Cavel cleared his throat and Saulle's eyes closed as his ears flattened. His hunched shoulders and stiff posture as he approached the young man were anything but threatening. Cavel's eyes flared as he dropped to his knees in front of him, acknowledging his higher rank.

Slowly, with his jaw clenched, Saulle tilted his head back and looked up at Bashta. His adams apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, his neck bare and exposed to the young man. "I apologize for my words yesterday. I did not mean to insult your clan's memory or offend you in any such way." His words skirted the truth; he had meant to insult the youth but not in such a way. Filial devotion to one’s clan was ingrained in a Carthera from birth. To lose your entire family, aunts, uncles, cousins, friends all at once... it was unthinkable to their kind. Not only had Bashta survived alone, he had stayed sane and fulfilled his clan’s duties. Mate or not, that was deserving of respect.

Bashta looked at Cavel and then down at Saulle. The man's shoulders were almost twice as wide as his and even kneeling his head was still chest high on Bashta. He didn't urge the man up immediately stood quietly for a long moment. Their eyes locked and Saulle was forced to look away, leaving Bashta firmly in control. Everyone relaxed when he nodded. "Apology accepted." Saulle stood up next to him but his body language was as non-threatening as possible. He moved away slowly, glancing a few times at his alpha.

"Are you ready to go yet?" Bashta looked around the campsite. Unused to the jungle or not they had cleaned up remarkably well, removing all signs of their stay from the jungle clearing other than the small charred place from their evening fire. Every other man was weighed down with a backpack held over one shoulder.

"We are."

"Good, let’s see how well you can keep up." Turning Bashta walked off without any other words of explanation or direction.

***

They had been traveling a few hours when Bashta stopped. "We rest in the middle of the day."

Cavel was approaching him when Bashta turned away abruptly and scrambled up the closet tree. Cavel was left watching him gracefully move from tree to tree away from the clan. He sighed as the lean muscles in the tan back bunched and flexed before he disappeared from view. Cavel had a disgruntled frown on his face when he turned around.

Piscel laughed. "Your little mate isn't exactly cooperating is he?" Cavel scowled which only seemed to make him grin bigger in his spotted face. Cavel made a disgusted sound and flopped down on the ground next to him. Getting mad wouldn't stop his casual disrespect, Cavel used to follow Piscel around back when they were younglings and the irreverent jaguar used to get them in trouble all the time. The more serious someone was the more he tended to act out to drive them crazy.

"Saulle has made this so much harder. He won't even talk with me, I tried all morning."

"I wouldn't assume that is the whole reason he is acting like that," Piscel said thoughtfully as he pushed back his sweaty blond hair. "Do you remember how much work I had to get Keana to give me the time of day? We both knew what the whole situation was, we had known each other our whole lives, and she still put me through hell."

Cavel opened his eyes and looked over at Piscel who was shaking his head. "Your point being?"

"Well, other than the fact that a man's mate just seems destined to make him miserable, your mate is younger than you, has lived alone for years without any clan, and probably has no idea what he is feeling. Couple that with a whole group of males he doesn't know inside his territory and you hovering around him? Being too pushy will just make you job harder and backfire on you."

Cavel bumped him with his shoulder, "Well what would you suggest then, Mr. Love Doctor?"

Piscel rolled his eyes then looked unexpectedly serious, "Slow down. Court him. Talk to him, find out what he likes, who he is."

Cavel was skeptical, "Okay, but first doesn't he have to talk to me so I can find all that out? I tried everything to get him to talk to me this morning and he just ignored me or ran away before I could get close enough to say anything."

"Maybe that's the problem. He feels chased. That's making him want to escape you, not get closer. Be coy."

"Ignore him?"

"No! Gods, you're bad at this." Piscel took a big drink of water and then passed his water bag over to Cavel. "Look at him, smile, be open for him to talk to you but let him get used to you first. Let him come to you once some of his nerves wear off."

Cavel passed the water bag back. He ran a rag over his sweaty forehead. "I don't know about this. Are you sure?"

Piscel smirked, "Do I not have a mate and two kitlings at home?" He winced as soon as the words left his mouth.

"God, look at me worrying about this when your kitlings are sick and in danger. I'm sorry Piscel. I really am focused on getting a cure for them."

Letting his breath out in a sigh, Piscel nodded, "We all know that, Cavel, really. You're doing your best and that's all any of us can ask. We all are. We'll find the cure; Bashta will get us to the Temple in time."

***

Bashta walked back toward the group he left behind during the midday rest. He had made his way to a small hollow in a nearby tree and spent the hottest time of the day resting and thinking. The clan, other than the rude jaguar, seemed friendly. They didn't talk to him much or get too close but each had smiled at him at least once and they spent the morning hike working together well. If their mood was somber he could understand. Their hearts were back with their families, even as their bodies and minds were focused on finding something, anything, they thought would help them.

Their leader had him completely confused though. Bashta was unable to take a deep breath around him, as if it were stolen each time a glance or look passed between them. There were a lot of those too. Every time Bashta looked up it seemed like Cavel was trying to get close to him, invading his space and talking to him. Unable to control the feelings, he avoided him, refusing to look up. It didn't stop the sensation he had of eyes on him and that made him irritable.

Even worse was the desire to let the man closer. It was as if his body craved his touch and the effort of resisting made him twitchy. He wouldn't say he liked his solitude but he had grown used to it. It felt like his body was turning traitor. These strangers would leave once they had what they wanted and he would be alone again. It would only hurt worse if he allowed himself to get used to them.

The afternoon was different from the morning. The men were the same, pointing out things and asking him what they were, complaints about the heat and the bugs. They kept putting a nasty smelling spray over their bodies but the insects proved hardier than their liquid.

"Hey, Bashta, how come you're not swatting like the rest of us?" Mackent asked.

Bashta glanced over at him where he was scratching a red welt on his neck. He smirked at the man. "Guess they just don't like me." He shrugged and hopped on top of a fallen log, walking to the end and jumping off, landing lightly on the balls of his feet.

"Dude, how do you do that? Don't your feet hurt?"

"No, why would they?" Bashta looked at his bare calloused feet, tougher than leather from an entire life in the jungle. Rough bark, rocks, most thorns didn't bother him. He glanced at Mackent's feet encased in brown hiking boots.

"Just looks painful, is all."

Bashta shrugged again, "Your foot coverings don't look that comfortable to me. Besides, I'm used to it." He stepped up on a smooth rock and then reached up to a tree limb, pulling himself over the jungle floor and the small patch of rocky ground. "Besides, it makes it easier to hold on to the tree limbs."

Sure enough his bare toes were curled around the edge of the branch and he had much less trouble than the clan men who tried to follow him up in the trees rather than walk on the pointy rocks that hurt even through the soles of their boots. Treads meant to work on mud and gravel slipped and skidded on the smoother branches. For several hours Bashta led the way deeper into the jungle, heading toward a tributary of the mighty river that flowed through its heart.

From time to time he could feel those heated eyes on his back again but that was it. To his confusion the alpha didn't approach him or try to lead him into conversation again. He seemed to be... ignoring him. That made Bashta a little angry. Here he was, leading this group of outsiders to his people's most revered ancestral site and he was acting as if Bashta wasn't even there. He snorted; let the cocky jerk try to lead his men without him. He'd not reach the Temple before the next season, much less the next moonless night. He grew more and more disgruntled as the evening fell. Disgust with that feeling grew as well. Once he decided to stop them for the night he was unable to stand it.

"I'll be back early. Be ready to go before the sun rises so we can get as far as the river before the midday rest," Bashta said to Cavel. He kept his eyes on the ground and refused to look into those watchful eyes.

"We'll be ready." Bashta nodded and turned to leave. A warm hand touched his bare upper arm above his red and black armband. He turned back, their bodies less than a foot apart.

"Would you like to stay for a meal with us?" Cavel kept his hand on Bashta's arm. A heat spread from that one contact to deep in his stomach. His breath quickening, Bashta dared to glance up. His breath froze at the desire he saw when their eyes locked. His tongue darted out to lick his lips quickly and Cavel's grip tightened, the fingers flexing in small caresses.

"I... not tonight."

Cavel's face showed his disappointment as he let Bashta go. "See you in the morning then." He turned and walked away, leaving Bashta feeling unaccountably cold as he stood apart. He blinked and remained motionless for a moment, seemingly unaware of the watching clan. Shaking his head, he disappeared into the twilight.

"I bet that was hard," Piscel said, clapping him on the shoulder. "You did good today."

"Did I?" Cavel asked bitterly.

"Oh yeah. He'll be bugging you before you know it." Piscel grinned. "Here's your meal." He handed Cavel a steaming bag and a fork.

"Oh goody!" Cavel looked into the jungle where Bashta had disappeared before he sat down morosely on a log to eat.