“He who controls the food, controls the people.” Archaius the Conqueror (1110-1040 B. F. E.).

  Garassk stretched and yawned as he awoke the next day. The fireflies had died in the night, but the sun now illuminated their path. They’d survived the night, and that was all that mattered. He watched as the others also got back on their feet.

  “I see we all made it through the night,” he said.

  “Aye,” Rathorn agreed. “Now let’s get out of here.”

  Savrassa stretched, and led them out. Despite the initial blinding effect, the sunlight was a welcome change. Only the rumbling of their stomachs undermined the moment.

  “I suppose we’ve had a long enough time between meals,” Garassk said.

  “What’s there to hunt around here?” Rathorn asked Savrassa.

  “Not much,” she said. “Drakkill has done everything he can to make it impossible for us to hunt here. Even if we find anything, there’s a good chance we’ll be in trouble for poaching.”

  “I take it his own men do all of the hunting, and feed you the meager scraps?” Garassk guessed.

  “We only get fish, squirrels, and rabbits, and only so much of them,” Savrassa replied.

  Now that he looked closer, Garassk noticed that Savrassa was awfully thin. The sleeves of her dress drooped over arms that he imagined would be quite bony if he could see them. The rest of her clothes didn’t seem to fit her body much better, and they weren’t that big to begin with. His tail twitched furiously. The fact that Drakkill and his men had managed to take control of the varanians’ food supply, and were starving them into compliance made his blood boil. He swore an oath in his mind then and there that he would make sure Sir Drakkill was dead before this was over.

  “Perhaps it would be best to hunt smaller game then,” Rathorn suggested. “There must be something around here.”

  “Perhaps we should cover a little ground first,” Garassk said. “Drakkill might be looking for us, and it might be easier to hunt farther away from his land.”

  “Agreed, but we can’t go far,” Savrassa replied. “It’s been too long since I’ve had a proper meal, and I really need something soon.”

  “I’ll hold on to these fireflies,” Rathorn said, holding up the jars. “We can add them to whatever we find.”

  The three of them crawled out and licked the air for the scent of food. Human life was everywhere, but animals were scarce. They moved away from the scent, rather than towards it, cursing their inability to get food.

  “So what’s your story?” Savrassa asked. “I’ve told you all about me, but still know nothing about you.”

  “We’re passing through,” Rathorn grunted. “Trying to get back to Drakmyr.”

  “And where is that?”

  “Alantar,” Garassk answered.

  “Is that far from here?”

  “Probably,” Garassk asked. “We’re not really sure where ‘here’ is. We’ve been diverted from our course many times.”

  “I see,” Savrassa said. “And were are you returning from?”

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  “Tarthas,” Rathorn replied.

  “Tarthas? Really?” Savrassa squawked, tilting her head. “Why would you ever go there?”

  “It was supposed to be a stop along the way,” Garassk explained. “It turned into a war while we were there.”

  “I see. And now that the war is over, you’re trying to get home?”

  “Aye,” Garassk replied. “It’s slow going, but we’ve traveled far. Every few stops or so, we come across a town with a problem that forces us to stay until it’s fixed.”

  “Like mine?”

  “Like yours.”

  “Hold!” Rathorn hissed, making them both stop. “There’s food around here.”

  Garassk flicked his own tongue out. He eventually managed to taste the scent of rabbit.

  “How do we do this?” he asked.

  “You do the main hunting,” Rathorn said. “I’ll see if I can find some fish.”

  Garassk nodded, motioned for Savrassa to follow him, and crawled toward the scent. The forest obscured much of their path. Scent alone was all they had to go off of. He eventually weaved his way through enough trees to find what they were looking for. A lone brown rabbit sniffed the ground, blissfully unaware of their presence.

  “It’s not much,” he whispered. “But it’s better than nothing.”

  “How do we do this?” Savrassa asked.

  “How recently were you enslaved? Have you ever hunted before?” Garassk asked.

  “Not for a long time. And not any big game. I know more about catching fish.”

  “Then leave it to me,” he said. “Wait here.”

  She nodded, and he got down on all fours and crawled towards his prey. He did everything he could to make sure that he made no noise as he drew near. Once the rabbit’s back was turned, he pounced. The rabbit had enough time to start to hop away before he grabbed its sides, sinking his claws into them until it stopped moving.

  “Well done,” Savrassa said.

  “We’d best get this back to Rathorn,” he replied. “It’s not much, but it’s probably all we’ll get for the moment.”

  He slung the dead rabbit over his shoulder and tasted his way back to his older companion. Rathorn was leaning against a tree when they returned. Garassk offered him the rabbit, but the older varanian raised a hand to stop him.

  “We’re not alone,” he grunted. “Look.”

  Soldiers scoured the landscape like a swarm of ants descending upon a feast. Garassk could tell by looking that there was no way they would be able to slip by unseen.

  “Great,” Garassk hissed. “Now what?”

  “We move slowly,” Rathorn said. “There’s still plenty of cover.”

  Garassk tasted the air to see if he could figure out how many men there were, and their location. The scent of men was overwhelming, but he determined that they could still move about safely if they were careful.

  That was when Savrassa crawled over. She stopped at the sight of them clearly hiding from something.

  “What’s going on?” she whispered.

  “Soldiers,” Garassk replied. “We’ll have to move slowly, and take care not to make too much noise.”

  “Follow me,” Rathorn ordered, getting on all fours and crawling around the tree. Garassk and Savrassa followed him. The leaves made some light crunching sounds as they moved, but there was no avoiding that. The best they could do was hope that no one was close enough to hear any of it. Their first few steps were promising.

  “If we have the time, we might want to eat this rabbit soon,” Garassk whispered. “It might give away our position if we take too long, and it’s hard to carry.”

  Rathorn nodded, and extended a hand. Garassk handed the older varanian his kill. He pulled the rabbit into three pieces, and distributed them among the other two. The three of them swallowed the rabbit with little ceremony. Then the older reptile opened the jars and offered them the fireflies. That was all they had for now.

  “Now let’s move,” Rathorn growled, not giving them the time to digest. They continued crawling. At one point, they went by a log, but were forced to stop when two knights walked over and sat on it. Garassk’s heart almost stopped.

  “Anything?” one of the soldiers said, his voice reedy.

  “Nothing,” the other huffed. His voice sounded strained, like he was more used to coughing than talking.

  “Are we sure they’re still here?” Reedy asked. “They can’t have been planning on staying.”

  “They can’t have gotten far either,” Cough snorted. “One of them’s starved. Unless they ate her, they’re not going to cover much ground.”

  One of them chuckled.

  “Imagine those lizards eating their own,” Reedy sneered. “Animals.”

  Garassk looked to Rathorn to see what they would do next. The sound of something hitting the ground caused them both to turn and see that Savrassa had slipped.

  “What the…?” Reedy said. Rathorn rose up from over the log and grabbed both men, pulling them over and slamming them to the ground.

  Garassk moved in front of Savrassa as several armed knights emerged into view. He drew his sword and tensed. There was no way of getting out of this without a fight.