The Key to the Future
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A bluish-green speckled egg sat in a nest in the middle of a sparsely decorated hut. The egg shook as the chick inside fought to break free.
Kali watched with bated breath as her first chick hatched from its hard-shelled prison.
The village shaman acted as midwife for the chick.
The baby broke free with a resounding chirp followed by many more.
Tilo gathered the newly hatched blue jay chick and wiped the amniotic fluid from its bare, featherless body. He performed his duty of checking the chick's slit. He felt a bump and he nodded, "Congratulations, Kali. You have a son now."
Kali gasped, "He's male."
The sparrow finished cleaning the chick then passed the chirping, squirming infant to his mother.
Kali held him, "Shh, hush little Justin..." She named him after his father, the mate who never returned home to hold his new boy. She was sad, deeply sad that he could not be here.
Maureen sat in the hut with them nursing her own newborn kit. She had also born a son. She named him after her father, Iomer. "He's beautiful, Kali."
The widowed jay smiled sadly, "I know he is and I know you'll help me, right?"
The pine marten held paws with her avian lover, "As you've helped my baby, of course."
The new mother sobbed as Maureen embraced her, "Bless you, Maureen."
Caryn was there too with her newborn chick, Ruby. "And you'll have me too, Kali." She rubbed beaks with her friend as her daughter slept in her feathered arms.
...
Chief Nestor's son had also hatched.
The proud father sat in his hatchery cradling his pride and joy.
Vera had left him. She stayed long enough for their egg to hatch, but then she was gone into the dense woods surrounding their village. Heartbroken, betrayed, she no longer wished to compete for the affections of her cousin, not when he had used her then cast her aside for Feroz, his true love.
Of course, Feroz had stayed, as loyal as ever. Shortly after her departure, Nestor had publicly proposed to Feroz, to make him his new mate under Rhia. Feroz was sad for Vera, but his love for that young eagle he once trained outweighed his sympathy. The vulture was preparing food for his new son, Trantor.
Nestor always hated his own name, he did not feel it was the name deserving of a great and powerful chief like him. He wanted his son to have a strong name, so he named him Trantor. When Feroz was finished cooking the baby food for Trantor, Nestor passed his son to him. "Care for him as if he were your own, dear Feroz." He touched beaks unabashedly with his lover before he stepped away.
In his master bedroom, Nestor took off his eyepatch and left the garment in a basket. He took out a small jar filled with a minty-smelling herbal cream. He applied the cooling solution to his aching right eye socket; the eye he'd gouged out himself to achieve his place here as chief. It reminded him of his past lectures by his father, his father's expressed distaste for Nestor's friendship with Feroz. Now Gregor was dead and Nestor was chief and the eagle felt some remorse for what he'd done, but it had to be done. His father's approach in the past at dealing with neighboring tribes, trade with those wolves to the north, Nestor never agreed. There was no real fortune in trade.
The eagle remembered a day in his youth.
Nestor had just turned eighteen. He'd stumbled upon some fallen mammals on a dirt road. Two were squirrels, bodyguards, each had been shot through the heart with arrows, then stripped of their clothing. The one before them was a mouse in fancy clothes. His throat had been slashed, clothes ripped and his anus was bleeding. Nestor should have run back home but something spurred him forward.
He saw something shining on the ground. He picked it up and it had been a gold coin. He never saw anything so shiny, so pretty. He looked around and saw more gold trailing further away from the village. He followed it.
He followed until he came upon a camping ground where the murderous bandits had stopped to check their loot.
One of them, a wolf, wore the dead mouse's fancy cape while he sorted through their pilfered riches, "With this much gold, I could buy me a couple nights at the brothels in town."
The weasel beside him kicked the wolf playfully, "That's all you think about isn't it, Gerick?"
The wolf named Gerick kicked back, "And I suppose you're only in this for charity, eh?"
The weasel sat up indignant, "Of course it's a charity, it's called Feed a Weasel." His pudgy belly growled at the mention of feeding.
Gerick kicked him in his rear, "Fat ass! You tell me I think with my privates, then you let your gut do your thinking!"
The weasel stuck his tongue out, "So I'm a hypocrite, arrest me! Put me on the gallows, my friend!" He picked up the bag of gold he'd pilfered from that rich mouse they just killed. "Mmm, that mousey did have a nice ass though. I wish he hadn't died so quickly." Then, he noticed the bag was lighter than when he'd picked it up before. "Ey, what's this?" He turned it and the bag had a tear in it. "Fuck, I've lost some of my gold!"
The wolf scoffed, "So what? We've still got plenty!"
The weasel stood up, "And what if someone sees that gold, Gerick? If a ranger finds us, it's our necks!"
Young Nestor had listened to them and hadn't noticed some bigger furs moving up behind him.
A gloved hand came down on his shoulder and another held his beak to stop him from screaming.
A tall fox in chainmail armor shushed the young eagle, "Be still, child. We won't hurt you."
The teen looked up and saw other canids standing around the fox.
The fox made a gesture to his fellow rangers.
Gerick stood, "So some forest ranger finds us, we could take him!"
The weasel shouted, "Except they never attack alone!"
The wolf growled, "You're just being paranoid!"
"Halt, criminals!"
And that was when three armored canines jumped out into the clearing with their swords drawn on the two bandits.
The weasel shouted, "Never call me paranoid again, Gerick!" before he threw his paws up and got down on his knees.
Gerick wasn't about to go so peacefully. He unsheathed his dagger then lashed wildly at one of the rangers. He then fell back in screaming agony when his dagger hand was lopped off in one clean cut. He held his bleeding stump as two more rangers pushed him face first into the ground.
Both bandits were tied then gagged before the fox let Nestor go.
The forest ranger looked down at the two bandits, "In all my years working this forest, I've never met a pair of murderers more loudmouthed than you two. And you!" He pointed a single condescending claw at the whimpering wolf before him. "Was it really worth losing your limb over a simple thing like being arrested? If you'd have come quietly I could at least argue insanity for you two to spare you a date with the gallows. But if this is the way you'll behave then I won't even consider it!" He nodded for his men to take them away.
The fox lingered when he saw that young eagle step into the clearing. "You, young one! You're one of the natives that live out here, yes?"
The eagle understood his dialect then nodded quietly.
The fox nodded, "Do you know your way home?"
Nestor nodded again, pointing in the general direction he'd come from.
The fox sheathed his sword, "Then don't linger any longer out here. These woods are dangerous for a youth like you. If those thieves had seen you, you'd have ended up their victim, or worse their plaything." He turned to leave, "Go home!" he said before he departed.
Nestor didn't go right away. He stayed behind to look at the gold the thieves left behind. He played with the pretty metals, the jewels and that soft cape before he realized how late it was getting.
He ran back home thinking he could just come back later.
That night, his father whipped him ten times for wandering so far from the village. He endured that pain, then the next day, he snuck away to find all that gold and riches had gone. Someone had found it overnight and made off with all those precious metals. But, he still had that coin, that first gold coin that he found.
From then on, Nestor vowed he would find more of it.
Now as an adult and as chief, Nestor still wished to become the most powerful chief that ever lived, not through force or through battles, but through wealth. Years later, he kept that one gold coin. Feroz had fashioned a necklace with the coin as its centerpiece. It hung around Nestor's neck, directly over his heart. Nestor rubbed it as he thought on how he could get more.
...
Meanwhile, in the northern territories, the roads had begun to clear up.
Two traveling companions stepped together, each dressed warmly for the cold weather.
One was a handsome thin blue jay with blue and black feathers and a narrow black beak.
The other was a cardinal with scarlet red feathers, a small black mask-like marking around his eyes and a short red beak.
Justin and Orion had long left the comfort of their winter companions. They had enjoyed their company, they would not forget the kindness of these three strangers, but now they had to get home to their wives, to their families.
The two friends stuck mainly to the roads so they wouldn't get lost. They camped together in the woods when they had to sleep and ate their rations when they were hungry. But most of their time was filled with playful preening, flirty talking and the occasional rub beneath the other bird's upturned tailfeathers.
The nights when they slept together, they held one another tightly for warmth. That usually ended in Justin rolling Orion on to his belly then mounting his friend. They would fall asleep then after it was finished, Justin spooning Orion like he used to with Kali.
On one such night, following a particularly energetic session between the pair, Orion sighed dreamily in his friend's strong arms.
