Page 44 of Tiger's Tale
Finally, the man stopped his infernal strumming, and it was like all the tension in Nik’s muscles could finally melt away. He rolled to his side with his back to the fire and had just closed his eyes and started to breathe deeply when a tail hit his face. Sputtering, he cracked open an eye, trying to brush the bits of fur from his mouth and was about to lecture Veru for taking so long to come back to his side, when he realized in the darkness it wasn’t Veru but Stacia.
“Who invited you over here?” he said moodily. “Keep your tail out of my face, would you? Next time, I’ll bite.”
In response, the big red tiger lifted her head from her sleeping position and bared her fangs. He got the message but snorted anyway. “Yeah, yeah. You have bigger teeth. So what? I’m not afraid of you, Stacia.”
It was quiet for just a moment, and Nik was just about to drift off when Stacia suddenly lurched at him, snapping her jaws just a few inches from his face. He screamed and then laid there panting while she blasted him with a steamy breath from her nostrils, her chest puffing in a noise that sounded to him suspiciously like tiger laughter.
“Cut it out, I said!” he barked, doing his best to wrestle her away, though she was far too heavy for him to move. She allowed his feeble pushes to work, though, and repositioned herself away from him, laying down and giving her tail a final flick in his direction. After that, the camp fell silent until morning.
[ASTERISM]
The next day no one spoke at all. Nik was all glares and seething hostility, while Danik was full of whistles and smiles. The tigers appeared to be in good spirits, lapping up the snowmelt from the campfire and the remains of the roast boar that Nikolai and Danik set out for them. Once their packs were on their backs, Nik having donned his other pair of boots, seeing as how the tigers made it clear they intended to walk with Danik for a time by avoiding him and his touch, Nik finally broke the silence, and said, “Well, hunter, where are we headed?”
“Since you asked, I’m thinking I need to figure out what kind of magic you’re practicing, Grand Mag-ass.”
“I’ll thank you to stop calling me that.”
“Maybe you will. If I choose to call you something else. But seeing as how you still have atrocious manners and have never bothered to tell me your actual name, I don’t really have any other option now, do I?”
Danik grinned, turned on his heel, and said, “Let’s move along, Mag-ass.”
Stacia could almost see the steam coming out of Nik’s ears. She’d never seen him react that way to anyone before. To the other soldiers, he was always deferential. When they mocked him, he let Veru fight his battles. Never once had she seen him stand up for himself. It was interesting.
Most of the time he was simply mooning over Veru, or serving Veru, or asking her where to find Veru. Never had she seen him take the lead or offer insight or direction. He constantly sat at Veru’s heels, waiting on her beck and call. He’d never had a voice before. For the first time in... ever, she felt she was seeing the real Nikolai. Not that Veru was noticing her friend or his reactions. She appeared to be mooning herself, over the hunter.
Even now Veru was walking right beside the hunter, completely oblivious to her sister or Nik. Every once in a while, the hunter’s hand would drift down to touch Veru’s head or stroke her neck. Stacia found it fascinating. Veru didn’t typically encourage male attention. She wondered what exactly had happened between the two of them during their time apart.
“If you must address me, call me Nikolai,” Nik said from a few paces away.
“Nikolai. And where do you hail from?”
“I saidifyou must address me.”
“It’s a long walk,” Danik reasoned.
Nik grunted angrily and spat, “The capital.”
“I didn’t ask where you worked. You weren’t born in the capital, were you?”
“No,” Nik replied with pursed lips and a bitter, heated expression. “Why must you pry into my life?”
“Simple. You ask me to trust you with the lives of these tigers. Would you not do the same?”
At that moment, Veru looked over at Nik, and his hard expression cracked. “Yes,” he answered. Stacia noted that when Veru eyed her friend, his shoulders dropped, and his angry tone diminished to the point of falling away completely.
“Fine. My name is Nikolai Novikov. The small family farm where I was born and raised once laid alongside the Pinega River. It is now gone. The home and barn burned to the ground many years ago. I am responsible for its destruction, along with the deaths of my parents and siblings. I’m the only survivor. Someday I might share the details, but not today.”
Stacia was immediately interested in what happened. How old had he been, she wondered. She’d known since he showed up with the monk that there was much, much more to Nik than she had ever believed, but responsible for the deaths of his own family? Was it accidental, or did he mean murder? Just how far would he go to get what he wanted? Clearly much farther than either of them had ever suspected. That he would admit such a thing was nearly as shocking. What did he expect to gain from it? Redemption? Love? Forgiveness? Understanding? Glancing over at Veru, she was surprised to see her sister still staring straight ahead. Did she already know? Didn’t she care about her friend? Or had she already cut him out of her life?
If such a tragedy had happened to one of her soldiers, Stacia would have pulled him out of the ranks and sent him in for evaluation. Long ago she’d learned from her father that those who have ongoing battles in their minds sometimes get confused on the battlefield. They make mistakes, very often dangerous ones that could lead not only to tremendous losses but even catastrophic outcomes in war. He’d taught her that it’s better to keep them home or send them to specialty training.
Nikolai must have lied in the interviews. That’s the only way he would have been allowed into the Royal Guard training. Unless... Veru...
Stacia again looked over at her sister, but there was no sign or sound of sadness or empathy. She simply stared straight ahead as she walked. There was, however, a sign of pity on the face of the hunter. His eyes were now fixed on Nik.
“I... see,” he said. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Nik scoffed. “Why are you sorry? It’s not your loss.”
