The Venomancer

II.4 - The Wolves' Weakness

"Well, you've ain't much between the ears, if you ask me," Voya snorted, at which Cassa's upper lip twitched. "You wanna smuggle a rule-breaker into the citadel ... Tcha. Where's the sense in that? Why ain't you leavin' him out there as beast bait? Ain't that what you makeup-ed gits do for a living? What's so special about him that he gets away with being a criminal and your average Gamlakhi don't? Gets their bloody heads lopped off for so much as sneezing in the wrong direction. He's just some northernlander."

"Mind your manners, Voya," Cassa said, though Tan didn't feel offended anyway. "He's a long lost friend of mine."

"You took vows," the teen retorted. "You got that ugly lance to prove that. Or are you goin' soft up there in that city of freaks?"

"In case you haven't noticed, Fenin is a little conspicuous out here. It's not often the desert folk see an Almysi in their lifetime."

"An Almysi?" Voya seemed enlightened. "I wondered why you look weird."

"Brother! Please!"

"What?"

"Refrain from voicing certain thoughts, would you? Any road, I came here because I would like to borrow some of your clothes. You and Fenin are about the same height and build, and he needs to be disguised. There is no way he would get back into the citadel dressed as he is, or he may be recognised. We left the city under the pretence he was a Gamlakhi worker that had wronged me. I gave the impression that I would beat him to within an inch of his life and leave him to die."

"Why would you say that?"

"Common practice. But, more importantly, I said I would return by evenfall, like any sensible man would do, and so it is imperative we are the other side of the gates as soon as possible. You know how fierce the ghûls have become and I cannot remain here without my disappearance looking suspicious. I propose that Fenin dress as you and ride with me into the city - no guard need suspect he is the same boy I dragged out of it. And not a word to anybody else about this. Clear?"

"Wait, are the Guard really that dense?"

"Not at all, but I'm a trusted captain and they know I have family in Gamlakh. They've no grounds to be suspicious."

Voya shrugged. "All right. If you say so. By the way, you oughta keep your voice down or -"

"Oh! Cassa!" His mother appeared with her arms outstretched. "Fates be good! I thought I heard you!" He stood up in time for her to fling her arms around his neck. A short woman by the standards of the Arenah descendents, her son had to stoop to receive her embrace. "You're home!"

"Yes," he said, without hugging her back.

"Is somethin' wrong? I wasn't expecting you; you normally send word."

"Everything is fine, Ma ... it's just a fleeting visit. I wished to speak to Voya."

"Anythin' I should know about?"

"No, unless you've developed an interest in betting on Gamlakhi fighting hounds."

"All right, all right." She batted his arm. "But you best not be encouraging him. We don't have coin to waste like you do. Bleedin' betting. Don't you have anything better to do - oh, who's that?"

A queer expression stole across her face as her gaze met Tan's.

"Fenin Aughtonlyle," Cassa told her at once. "A friend from the city."

"I could ... I could'a sworn ..."

"Yes?"

"Oh, nothin'. I thought I recognised ... Meaning you no offence, Fenin, but to us desertfolks' eyes all you northernlanders look the same. Seen a smatterin' of your people around Gamlakh in the past decade or so, I have. Nice folk. Talk funny though. How do you two know each other?"

"It's a long story," her son interjected, "and I shan't bore you with the intricacies of it. We both should be going soon. Voya? Could I trouble you to bring me those clothes?"

"Yup."

"Stay for supper, won't you?" his mother begged. "You normally do. The food will stretch to eight."

"The sun will be on the horizon in an hour. I ought to go -"

"Also, your da will be home from work soon and Lofti is visiting tonight with Juino and Galli; the children'll be thrilled to see their uncle is here! Even if you are in all your nasty war-paint. I wish you wouldn't wear it here. You look so different these days from that handsome boy I raised. And you ain't visited any of us for months."

Cassa rolled his eyes and motioned for his brother to sit back down. "Fine," he surrendered. "But we can't stay too much longer afterwards."

She squeezed his arm and left them, smiling to herself.

"I'm a highly trained warrior," Cassa grumbled as she shuffled out of earshot. "I'm one of the captains of the guard, a grown man, and a foot taller than her, but somehow my mother wins every time."

"That's what I was trying to warn you about," Voya smirked. "She's been goin' on about you for weeks now, an' it ain't always the good stuff, which is a nice bloody change. Looks like you ain't so perfect after all."