6

The fox ran until he collapsed. When he woke, he found himself surrounded by more wolves. With tears in his eyes, he resigned himself to a painful death for trying to escape, but that would at least be better than being a slave. He did not realize that these were not slavers, but a search party, seeking Jethen.

After some tears and explanations, he told the story of how Jethen had exploded from the slaver cart and rescued him. How he saw them tackle Jethen, ignoring him. He also described that the head slaver was a Dracos, and how he had overheard them talking about how much the Tiger-Wolf would be worth if they could get them back to Draakeeth and the arenas.

After that, they escorted him back to the Kreeh, the young fox meeting the Barron himself and telling his story. Derren agreed to keep what happened to himself, and was given a stipend and an apprenticeship with the best tailor in the city.

It was at this point that the search was called off, as they were several miles beyond the border when the found Derren. For the search to go deeper at that point was to risk war.

#

Jethen woke to a throbbing headache, but found he could not grip his head because he was bound with iron shackles. So he cried quietly. A quiet, soft voice surprised him and he opened his eyes trying to make out who was speaking. He found that he was not at all alone, but back in the cart with almost a dozen other furs. It was an older lynx speaking to him.

″Don't cry little one. You have done well by yourself, better than anyone I have ever seen. You can count 4 wolves by your hand, and if the way they talk is anything, at least 5 more possible from the injuries you have inflicted. One is nearly dead from infection already, and others gravely wounded. What are you?″

Sitting up as best he could, the others helping him to a seat. ″I am Jethen Krest, son of Keer and Leeth Krest. A Tiger-Wolf.″

A voice from outside the cart, deep yet melodic. ″A Tiger-Wolf, yes, that you are. What did you say your name was?″

Turning to look out the slit window and seeing the eye of a Dracos. ″I am Jethen Kreft, son of Keer ad Leeth, and I will free myself. I will take as many of your men, and you as well, to death.″

″Oh, you have already done well in that area Jethen Kreft. You can count seven of my men to your total now. Four directly, and three more due to the injuries you have caused, but we are meeting with the rest of my troop soon.″ A rumbling chuckle emanating from the Dracos. ″The son of the lost champions, Keer and Leeth. Quite amazing and quite a catch. If you had just come quietly, or only injured a few of my men, I would not believe you. Your vicious effectiveness speaks to the truth of your parentage. We will be taking you to Draakeeth, where I will sell you to the highest bidder as the prize you are.″ Chuckling as he walked away.

The others consoled Jethen, but still he cried, wishing only to run to his mother. He may have been able to fight, he was trained by his parents, and educated well past his peers in age. Tiger-Wolves developed quickly, and were faster and stronger than those around them, but he was still only 5, and so the idea of being sold off in a place on the opposite side of the planet hurt him. He cried for several hours, inconsolable by the others.

#

After several days they made it to market, and Jethen was taken out of the cart and placed in a pen with several others. He had been subdued, and the wolves that had taken control of him had switched his shackles from iron to leather and rope. Even that was removed once he was in the pen, and he barely suppressed a smirk, these new wolves not yet hearing why he had been shackled at such a young age. He was after all only a third their size at most, and they clearly did not know that he was at least as strong as any one of them.

That night he explored the cell, which had a high window with several bars in it. It was high enough that few could reach it to grasp the bars and look out. He knew that the stairs that led down to where the pen was had an entrance only a short distance to the left of that window. It was guarded, but at night, they might not see him as he scrambled out.

One of the other slaves saw him looking up at the window. ″You might be small enough to fit through that, were the bars not there, and even if they weren't, you'll never get up there.″

Smiling and looking at the older slave. ″Everyone keeps underestimating me.″ Taking several steps back, sizing up the distance, height of the window, and setting his feet. He extends the claws on his hands to their fullest, so that they lock in place as only a Tiger-Wolves claws can. ″Only that old Dracos seems to know what I am, and I don't think he realizes that they have put me here unchained.″ With a running leap, he makes it nearly half way to the window, his claws digging into the soft sandstone of the walls, his toe claws catching as well and he begins to climb.

The others look up at him, well above their heads and working his way up. ″Even if you make that window, you'll never get the bars out.″ He ignores the speaker, focusing on the climb.

At the bars he finds what he expected, due to how high the window was, they were not secure. He rips one of them out and uses it to remove the other six. Dropping them to the dirt floor below, keeping two. He slithers he way through the hole and finds himself on a street in the slaver sector. He didn't know where he was, but knew he was nowhere near home. He also knew he needed to get away from this city and figure out where he was so he could make his way home.

The guard saw him then as he was taking stock of where he was. Charging Jethen, a shock stick in hand. Jethen had tasted one of those during another escape attempt, when they had opened the cart to feed them, which is when the finally put him in a cage by himself, and left the shackles on. He wanted no part of that, and charged in on the guard, dodging inside past the shock stick and driving the jagged point of the window bar into the leopards stomach. With a slash across his throat with his still extended claws, the leopard dropped, bleeding out with a gurgle into the dirt.

Jethen picked up the shock stick to replace the bar he left in the guts of the guard and took his keys. He unlocked the door and then dragged the body to the landing above the stairs, closing the door. He then proceeded to make his way down to the pens. The others looking at him in surprise, the blood coating his hands making his fur black in the dim torch lights.

″Who here knows where the city of Kreeh is, and what this city is?″ Looking at the assembled and holding up the keys with a rattle.

A wolf stepped forward, bandages across his chest, gripping the bars with hate in his eyes. ″Little SHIT!! I am in here because of you! GUARDS!!! GUARDS!!! ESCAPE!!!″

Jethen lept up towards the wolf and drove the shock stick into the wolfs throat, who fell twitching as the shock stick discharged into his neck. Another stepped forward, a fox. ″I do, but we can never get free from the city. This is near the center of the city. This is Threk.″

Thinking a moment to his schooling. Once he saw the sun rise, he would know which way to run, but he needed to be out of the city. He heard more guards coming, so he unlocked all the pens, tossing the keys on the body of the wolf. ″Fine, then. Not all of you will make it, but some might. Are you willing to run?″ Without looking he turned and ran for the stairs.

He made it to the top of the stairs, and found himself pinned behind the door, up against the body of the leopard as the guards burst in. Two of them, a Wolf and a fox. Once they were clear, he closed the door and sprung off it, twisting in the air like his father had taught him, and driving his feet into the chest of the fox. The force driving the fox clear off his feet and into the wolf, knocking them both down the long flight of stairs. The crack of bones braking echoing in the small area.

He opened the door and ran for everything he was worth. He didn't know this city, and knew he needed to get up high enough to figure out which way to go to the wall and out of the city. He was several streets away and climbed the wall of a building, taller than most others, and found himself on the roof of a guard tower. The two wolves manning it were busy scouring the streets, and shouting out direction to the other escaping slaves.

He lept on the back of one of them, his toe claws driven into the wolfs back, wrapping his hands around the wolfs neck, he shredded his throat, the wolf falling with a gurgling scream. The other wolf turned to face Jethen and recognized him. He called out an alarm and batted Jethen away with a shock stick he hadn't seen. Jethen gasped as he hit the wall, the pain from the shock stick exploding across his side.

″Oh on you don't! ALARM!!! TOWER THREE!!!″

Jethen wasn't going to make that mistake again, now that he knew the wolf had the shock stick. He threw the other bar from the window as he charged, the wolf just distracted enough that Jethen was able to latch his jaws on the wolfs wrist, crushing it as blood gushed into his mouth. The wolf screamed in pain, Jethen then driving his hand claws into the wolfs stomach as he released the hand.

Taking their rope, he tied it around them both as an anchor, and after getting his bearings, climbed down to the roof tops just outside the walls of the slaver district. He worked his way across the roof tops, finally forced to the streets close to the wall. He hid and watched the gate, trying to figure out how he was going to get out of the city. They were checking every cart, and it was creating a bit of a traffic jam as morning approached and he was able to tell which direction he would need to run.

He saw that the only things they did not check were the coaches, and so he found his way onto the belly of one of them, wedging himself behind the rear wheels and the axle, up against the casing and luggage strapped to the back. His heart pounded as they waited in line. He could smell himself, fear, blood, dirt. He only hoped that the copious amounts of perfume coming from the coach above him would mask his scent enough.

He made it through, and out of the rest of the city. He dropped into a wide stream as they went through it and allowed it to quickly wash him down stream. He used it to rinse himself of the blood and grime. He was sure they would have wolves on him already, so he kept to the stream until it met a larger river. At that point, he waited for nightfall so he could again figure out which direction to go. He could see the city off to the direction the river was flowing.

As the sun fell to the horizon, he saw that he would need to go towards the city. That meant towards the people that would be seeking him, but also behind them as they would assume he ran that direction. He tried to remember his geography. There was another city, Lettic, to the south, not the direction he wanted to go, but it was also ruled by the Barron. If he got there, he would also be safe. It was farther, but it wasn't towards the slavers either.

His little 5 year old heart ached. He wanted to be home so much, but he knew he could not just run home. His fathers words echoing in his mind. Always think through things, never act on emotion, not even in battle. He traveled as far as he could in twilight, and it was a dark and moonless night, so he found a thicket and slept.

Woken by the snap of a twig, he found himself surrounded by wolves and leopards. He dared not move, he waited as they used the clearing next to where he was to make camp. These were a slaver troop as well, and they had not noticed him. He stayed there for the day and another night, till finally they moved on. He found a knife they left behind and some scrap food. It was terrible, but it filled his belly. He then started moving again.

#

Jethen was free and making his way towards Lettic for five days before they found him. He was scavenging in a small town and someone noticed him. He was an usual looking thing, not a tiger and also not a wolf, so they send a message to the city. That put them on his trail, and they ran him down a day later. He had only been able to move from dusk until dawn because he was beyond the forests.

The old Dracos walked up to him, struggling against the straps and bars they had fitted him with. ″Oh my. You are amazing. Such exploits will help you fetch a much higher price. That said, I cannot have you escaping again.″

Growling and trying to bite his captors. They kept themselves clear using poles attached to rings on his collar. ″I'll rip out your throats. I'll feast on your bones!!″

″My, such language, and you are only 5? Amazing. A fine price indeed. You do your father and mother proud Jethen, and while I have actually made money on this little escapade of yours, the storehouse paying me for my losses because they removed your shackles against instructions. You may only be a child, but you are no ordinary child are you.″ A satisfied grin on his face. ″You are a Tiger-Wolf. The son of the best gladiators to ever grace an arena, and young enough that we can stick you in a grav pit to train. Heck, you are already trained some. Clearly your parents have taught you well. If you had not been seen in that town, you might have actually escaped. Lucky for me. Not so much for you.

I am having a special travel cage built just for you. It is a long trip to Draakeeth and the arenas. Need to keep you healthy, while also preventing you from escaping, and we cannot have you shackled day and night, that would damage you. But for now, you're going to be restrained and bared until you are in your proper cage. Call it a compliment. I'll let you know what your totals are in a few days, once everything figures out.

#

They put him in his cage after drugging him. Removing his shackles and the bars that kept him from being able to do anything but hobble. The Dracos waking him a few hours later. ″Good morning Jethen. I do hope you find these accommodations to your liking. This was an expensive cage to have built, and just especially for you.″ Jethen just glared at him. ″Oh, don't be like that. I have your numbers for you, and they are quite impressive for someone your age and size.

You have successfully killed, by your own direct hand, 14 wolves, 3 Leopards, and 6 Foxes. You've killed an additional 7 wolves, 2 Leopards, and 4 Foxes from the injuries you have caused, and by releasing those slaves from the pens. Something I give you credit for. That was very good thinking by the way. They were so worried about catching all the adult slaves, they didn't even start looking for you until the middle of the following day.″ He was slowly pacing around the cage. ″I do hope you appreciate how much you are worth to me. Under normal circumstances, an escape like that..., where guards are killed...,″ Shaking his head slowly. ″That would mean your death, but I was able to make the guild understand that you were bound for a reason, and the pen supervisor that had you unshackled was at fault. So we count his head to your number.″ With that, he nodded and walked away. The cage rocking and shaking as they moved out, the canvas sides to his cage dropped so it just looked like a large cart, hiding the cage within.