Chapter 5

"You've gotta be kiddin', Axel!"

The Tierseien dingo blinked steadily at Delwin's outburst. He was the leader of the group; he was used to criticism.

"It's necessary, Del, and you know it," Axel grunted. "We've just had one of our best fighters injured, and I ain't about to send him off as he is!"

The lion gave him an odd look. "Ax, it's just his eye! He's still got two legs, don't he? Two arms? Two ears! You're acting like Bruce can't even defend himself!"

"I never said he couldn't!" the dingo fired back. "But you know as well as I do that he's got a bad handicap, and he ain't full aware of it yet."

Pausing to regain composure, Axel continued, "It's just for this one time. We give him a few weeks to get himself adjusted and back on his feet, and then I'll cut ol' Bruce some slack. Alright?"

Delwin sighed wearily. "Right… we just gave the ol' boy the worst news of his life, and now we're gonna tell him we think he's all but incompetent. Wonderful idea, boss."

Axel glared at the persistent lion. "Fine… would you rather we send him out on his own to get killed then, Delwin? He gets spotted by them humans with a blindspot like that, they'll take advantage of it and make him dead where he stands. Get it?"

This quickly shut Delwin up, as did the handful of others, exchanging quiet words amoung each other, in the room.

Seeing his point was made, the dingo gave a nod. "So then, now that's settled… Jethro, you can go with him."

The lion was taken aback. "Me?" he said with a start.

"Yeah, you... I'd ask Noah, but his foot sprain ain't up for the ride, and we need Phillip, Carter and Rudd here, for burials. Unless you'd rather switch?"

Jethro considered this, hesitantly, then meekly submitted. "Alright… I'll take him, boss." No one said he had to be happy about it.

As the group subsided from the remains of the still barely standing town hall of Dreyfal, Jethro sulkily lagged behind, brooding over his duty.

The aforementioned Noah, a Tierseien degus, paused behind as well, putting a hand on the lion's shoulder. "Sorry about that, Jeth…" he smiled, apologetically. "I'd go if I could."

Jethro gave a light grin back. "Eh… not your fault, Noah. How's the foot, anyway?"

"Better, at least. But boss thinks I'll have a relapse if I don't take it easy," The degus shrugged shyly.

"He's probably right…"Jethro admitted. "Don't worry about it, mate, it's for the best."

Glancing towards a half broken window, he sighed. "Just hope Bruce understands that."

-----

Sure, Bruce understood the precaution, but he was no more impressed than Jethro, at having to go through with it.

Still, the others admired him for taking it like a trooper; smiling and nodding at Axel, as if he genuinely thought it was a brilliant idea.

Only Jethro saw what it cost Bruce, as they rode out of Dreyfal, on the horses, his comrade facing stiffly onward, trying to hold back the humiliation in his face. The young lion wisely decided to keep his mouth shut, to let Bruce calm down, and the warthog did not object.

But after several hours of strained silence and brief, curt responses, Jethro grew frustrated. When they took a short detour to allow their mounts to refresh at a small river, he broke the ice.

"C'mon Bruce, enough of it! What's wrong?"

The warthog kept his gaze turned away, as he responded, "I'm fine. I'm heading home, I should be happy. I'm happy."

The tone was so bland and alien, coming from Bruce. Lying had never been one of his strong points.

Jethro sighed, "Look, this wasn't my idea! I don't like it any more than you do, but you know how Axel is and…"

"Yeah, real easy for you to say, Jeth!" Bruce burst out, abruptly. "Easy for the lot of ya, to stand there and act concerned, when all you're really thinking is that poor Bruce Roarke is a cripple!"

His friend was stung by the accusation. "The bloody hell, mate! No one's said anything of the sort!"

"But you're all thinking it, ain't ya?" the warthog insisted. "I get one eye blown out, one eye, and you're all thinking a half blind warrior is useless! Like a damned old horse, good for nothing. Is that what this is about, Jeth?? Taking me out to shoot me, are ya?" he demanded.

Putting his hands over his ears, the lion yelped, "For God's sake, Bruce! What's gotten into you??"

Bruce shook his head, "Absolutely nothing; I'm the only one who's still the same here! It's the rest of you who're acting like I've changed… all because of one bloody eye!"

He broke off, breathing heavily. "Well let me tell you, Jethro… half 'blind' or not, I'm still just as able as any other bloke out there… and I still got my will to fight!"

Jethro stared at Bruce, amazed at the warthog's passion. When he finally looked to the lion, his comrade's expression was somewhat calmed, but still serious.

"If it was you, Delwin, or any of the others… and you got maimed for life… so long as you still wanted to do what we're doing… to keep fighting… I wouldn't treat you any different. I'd smile, shake your hand, and press onward. Because that's what matters most, boy… faith."

The lion let out a breath. "Gol dang, Bruce… you sure know how to knock 'em dead with words, eh?"

Bruce's charming smile finally showed itself. "I suppose so… too bad Axel's not a listening type."

"Ah, bullocks on the ol' dog," Jethro replied, cheerfully. "He won't let you go at any rate… you're one of our best out there. Still are. Probably have you back on the field within the month… when you're feeling up for it."

The warthog gave a sage nod. "Aye… when my Elle's up for me running off again…" The statement was meant in light humour, but Bruce couldn't hold back the bitter truth in it… he hated leaving Eleanor as much as she hated letting him go.

Patting his horse's flank, Jethro nodded back, "She'll get you all to herself for a good few weeks… I'm she'll like that."

Bruce braced a smile at this, but once more, left his worrisome thoughts unsaid.

"Sure hope you're right, Jeth."

-----

The pair pressed onward a few more hours, then stopped for an early dinner in a small town on their route. The local tavern was full, but Bruce good humouredly resolved that they could take their food outside just as well as indoors.

Jethro noted with silent observation that half of the insistence was induced by the score of young children playing in the dusty roads, and scattered walkways and stairs. He didn't mind at any rate; he enjoyed the company of children just as well. Cute little blighters.

And so, they sat out in the afternoon light and refreshed themselves on their fare, lightly conversing, and watching the youngsters scramble about them.

Bruce soon took a closer notice of a young Tierseien fox who was eyeing him (and his food) with vivid interest.

The warthog gave a wry smile at this. Not all families could afford such fare afterall. Selecting a large portion of fresh bread and setting his plate aside, he spoke aloud, "Well I think I'm about done for! Care to give a hand here?"

The boy looked at him with a start, wondering if he'd heard right. He was intrigued yes, but cautiously hesitated.

"S'nothing wrong with it… it's alright little mate," Bruce coaxed, holding the bread out. Finally the fox could resist no longer and came forward to take it.

"Thank you," he said, surprising Bruce. It was pleasant to see that even a low class child knew his manners, as well if not better than a well bred one.

"You're welcome," the adult grinned. "Fine day, ain't it?"

The boy nodded, taking a generous mouthful of bread.

Bruce quirked an eyebrow at the child's ravenous appetite. "Easy there mate, it's not gonna run away on you."

The little fox did his best to properly chew the large morsel before looking up to the kindly warthog. "Are you a soldier, sir?"

Bruce gave a modest nod. "I suppose you could say that, lad. What tipped it off?"

The boy hesitated. "How did you… lose your eye?"

The warthog gave a bland smile and tapped his temple. "Good point… unusual injury, ain't it? But eh… lost it clean out in quite the scuffle with about half a dozen humans on foot patrol."

His young companion's eyes widened at this. "Humans, sir?"

"Aye, young sir," Bruce replied, sagely. "You've heard of them, yes?"

"Yes… but… my father says they're dying out."

"That's true… but they're certainly taking their sweet time about it, I can assure you," the warthog remarked. "What else does your father say?"

The boy shrugged, nibbling on the half eaten bread. "That they're weak and we're wasting time sending people to push them back… since they're no real threat."

Bruce frowned with concern. "I take it your father and most folk around here ain't came across humans before."

"No sir."

"Well then little mate, I'll tell you first hand; humans ain't anything to be ignored. They took my eye…" He pressed his index finger against his faceband, "…And they could take away a lot more from us."

The fox's eyes were mixed with curiosity and fear. "Are they really as evil as some say, sir?"

Bruce's face suddenly softened. "Honestly? I don't think they are… not all of them, anyway. I believe they're just as scared as we are of them."

This intrigued the child. "Why would they be scared?"

"The world they've always known is changing… their kind is dying, and they feel like we're taking what's theirs," the warthog mused outloud. "Fear drives people to rash decisions and… they think fighting is their answer."

Having finally finished his food, the young fox wrapped his hands around his knees, thoughtfully. "Can't we help them, instead of fighting? Can't we all share and get along?"

Bruce gave him a warm look and a hearty pat on the shoulder. "People have been asking that one for years, lad. If you ever find an answer for it, you let us know!"

-----

"How many have you fought at once?"

Jethro had caught the attention of a pretty serving girl, a Tierseien cougar, and was enthralling her with his overdramatic tales of battle, with enthusiastic gusto.

"So many, you couldn't even count," the lion boasted. "A rottin' score of 'em! Ugly blighters, too."

Grinning cheekily, Jethro added, "Sure is refreshing to see a lovely face like yours, marm."

The female gave a pretty blush. "You probably say that to all the other girls…"

"Even if I did, they don't hold a candle to you!" the eager male insisted. "A marvel by far!"

The cougar gave a girlish giggle, and modestly averted her gaze. Before a further word could be said, a loud yell came from the east entrance of the tavern.

"Lucile!"

The female's mouth fell. "Oh dear!…I have to get back inside, the tables…" She scrambled to her feet in a hurry. "It was nice meeting you, mister…"

"Hans. Jethro Hans," he readily supplied. "I could wait for you if you like, I don't have to be going anywhere."

Lucile gave a smile. "Oh… well, I could try to finish early…"

"Then I'll be here!" Jethro exclaimed, eagerly.

They exchanged another set of warm smiles, causing the same loud voice to below again, "Luuu-ciiile!"

A quick wave and she was gone, Jethro beaming on.

His traveling companion suddenly stood beside him, shaking his head. "You're a shameless flirt, Jeth… you need a good wife to tie you down."

The lion gave a hearty chuckle. "Aye, Bruce… I'll get me a good wife when I find me a good woman!"

Bruce snorted, "Good luck there… but about this Lucile girl…"

"Beauty, ain't she?" Jethro mused, proudly.

The warthog raised an eyebrow. "You know I don't look at anyone other than Elle… and speaking of, we should be going pretty soon. You might want to mention that to the potential miss, before you stand her up…?"

"Who said I'm going anywhere? You're the one who's heading home, Bruce," the lion pointed out.

Stunned, his comrade blinked, "What do you mean, Jethro?"

His friend looked straight at him, in all seriousness. "Bruce… you said yourself earlier, you could make the journey alone. And I believe you. So I'm letting you do it."

A bemused smile crept across Bruce's face. "You're a true pal, Jeth… but you know Axel would gut you if he knew…"

"So don't give him a reason to find out," Jethro winked. "Get yourself there in one piece, and save my balls from ruin. Easy enough, eh?"

It was what Bruce wanted. But putting his comrade on the line was not. He was not proud enough to deny that the trip could still be dangerous, if there was an ambush.

Biting his lower lip, he inquired, "You're sure about this?"

The lion patted his shoulder. "I'd put my life on your word, Bruce. You show the ol' boys you still got it."

The warthog grinned, standing straighter. "Will do, Jethro. Expect word from me within the week. I'm going home."