CHAPTER NINE:

Zechs sighed and threw himself down on his cot. Gods, but it had been a long day! They'd finally gotten reenforcements, along with an irate General Athar, who had demanded to know why they were wasting their time here when these men were needed elsewhere?!

And his lovely Colonel had tried to pin the blame on Zechs.

He wasn't quite sure how the man had planned to make it stick - Zechs was only a Commander, for sweet pity's sake! - but he'd had a bad moment or two when the General had studied him thoughtfully. He'd felt the prodding touch of the man's Spirit Talent, asking permission to view his thoughts of the battle.

He'd been rather reluctant, knowing there were some wistful thoughts of Heero firmly woven in there, but he'd allowed the man access.

General Athar would just have to overlook it. Zechs was only human, after all.

The man had gone through the last few days with frightening intensity, looking more and more amused. He'd finally turned to the Colonel and said, "Perhaps the Commander just needs a bit more experience. I believe I'll reassign him to my personal Command. He'll get more than enough training there."

He'd ignored the Colonel's surprised squawk and turned back to the equally surprised young Commander.

"Be ready to move out with me in the morning. If our men don't have the enemy beaten by then, they can have this worthless place. We're leaving tomorrow. All of us." The last was directed at the Colonel.

Who was doing a marvelous impression of a landed fish.

The General had turned to leave - as soon as his broad back was to them, the Colonel had turned on Zechs, eyes furious.

Zechs had heaved a sigh and resigned himself to at least two hours of a screaming lecture.

At least this was the last one he'd have to listen to...

Five minutes later, the General's Aide interrupted, and carted Zechs off with him. He'd been put to riding just behind the General as the man spent the rest of the evening touring the battlefield, directing the soldiers, and occasionally joining in the fray himself.

His men happily followed him, Zechs included.

Now the Commander was tired, rather saddle-sore, hungry, and had some lovely bruises courtesy of a zealous enemy soldier - but it was ten thousand times better than having to sit through that lecture.

He rolled over onto his side, wincing a little at bruised ribs, and snuggled into his pillow with a murmur of contentment.

He was so very tired...

"Commander Zechs?" a female voice called from the opening of his tent.

He groaned and sat up. "Yes? Oh, hello, Sally."

"I hear you got a bit knocked around," the blond Spirit said, coming into the tent with the rest of her Healing Five hard on her heels.

"Just a bit." Zechs smiled at her and swung his legs off the bed. "Not enough to take up your time."

"You're my Commander," Sally sniffed, sounding slightly offended, "You are my first responsibility. You and your WarCraft, which isn't here, which leaves you. Shirt off."

"Yes, ma'am." Zechs grinned, easing his way out of the silk shirt he'd changed into.

Sally 'hmm'ed over his ribs for a moment, then sat back. "Not bad. Did you win?"

"Yes."

She grinned. "Good! So we can still brag about you at dinner! I assume you just want to rest, but you need to eat. Hana'll bring you a tray." She smiled at her little Air Talent, the youngest of her Others, and the girl smiled shyly back.

"And I expect every bite eaten." Sally admonished him.

"Yes, Master." Zechs teased.

"Impossible man! You've been spending too much time with Heero's Second! That menace is beginning to rub off on you!" She smiled as she said it. Sally was much fonder of Duo than she let on. "Have you heard from Heero?"

Zechs' good mood abruptly vanished.

"No. Not for several days."

"Well - no news is good news, or so I've heard it said. Personally, I think no news is just annoying."

Zechs managed a smile, and nodded.

Sally sighed, not buying that poor excuse for a smile, and leaned forward to lay her hands carefully on his bruised ribs. Her Others shifted beside her, letting small bits of their Power flow into her keeping, since these injuries didn't require much. The air around Sally's hands shimmered softly, and she frowned in concentration.

Zech's skin felt warm, then cool, then normal. No pain, and the bruises had faded to nothing. He smiled. A Healing was beautiful to watch, even for such mild wounds. And he was very fond of Sally and her Others.

Zechs was a Council Talent - he and his own Others were destined for leadership from birth. As such, he was responsible for more than just his personal Others - his Talent would call to other Spirit Talents, drawing a WarCraft, a Healing, a Builder, and a Growing Spirit to him, along with all of their Others.

In peacetime, they would have established a Township, bringing their families with them. Other people, Talents and non-Talents, would have followed. Each set of Fives that Zechs was over would have been in charge of their area of expertise, ready to use their abilities to nurture and protect their new home.

Since the country was at war, Zechs had been pulled into being a Commander, bringing his little 'family' along with him. So far, he had met only his WarCraft and his Healing, but that was more than enough responsibility for the present.

With his four Others, Sally's Healing Five, and Heero's unfinished Four, he had thirteen people under his care.

Fourteen, if Heero had found his Fifth.

Zechs truly hoped he had.

It was more than just wanting Heero back with him - although he did, quite desperately - it was also that he cared for those in his keeping, and he knew the four WarCraft Talents were being driven slowly insane by the yearning for their Fifth.

For the one that would make them Complete.

It had taken Zechs two months to find his own Fifth, a Water Talent named Fallon who was at a large Gathering in Helia. He remembered the aching, lonely void he and his Others had shared until they felt the cool Calling of the boy. He couldn't imagine how that void would have doubled and tripled in the next months, if they hadn't happened by that particular Arena.

He didn't want to imagine it.

So when Heero's Four had gone for over a year without even a whisper from their Fifth, he'd been extremely worried. So had his Superiors - Heero's WarCraft was powerful and badly needed, and they'd become distracted, less intense as the ache for their Fifth possessed them.

Zechs hadn't been so worried about their performance - he'd worried for their own sakes. He watched them go from light-hearted, laughing young boys to silent, morose ones, with eyes far older than they should have been. He'd asked Heero, once, to let him feel the void they were experiencing, but the Spirit had shaken his head.

"I wouldn't wish it on an enemy; I will not share it with you."

So Zechs knew it was very bad.

When Duo had gotten the idea of visiting Helia's Oracle, Zechs had allowed it. He usually turned up his nose at the thought of such 'nonsense', but he was willing to try anything that might help these boys. The Four had left silently, as had become their usual habit.

They'd returned overflowing with energy and excitement. The Oracle had obviously made a vast impression on them, and they wanted to pack and leave for the North right then. It had been extremely difficult for Zechs to make them wait for permission from General Athar.

As soon as it had come, they'd vanished.

Zechs had received dutiful daily updates from Heero, detailing their search. He'd enjoyed them at first, they had been so startling happy and lighthearted compared to the morose boys the Unit had gotten used to.

After the first seven Gatherings they'd visited, Heero's reports had started growing sad. Worried. Zechs wanted nothing more than to hold the other Spirit and tell him it would all be all right, but he couldn't. Couldn't hold him, he wasn't there; couldn't tell him that, because he wasn't sure it was true. Anything could have happened to their Fifth, they could be dead, forced into another Joining, or even something so simple as to be nomadic, moving away from the Four even as they were moving toward them.

There was no way to tell.

After the eleventh Gathering, Heero had been too far out of reach to Speak with. Zechs knew the schedule of the towns he was visiting - even if he'd gone almost to the border, he could have visited every Gathering that was to be held this Season. The last one, some tiny village in the middle of nowhere, would have been several days ago.

Heero should be back in contact soon.

'And please, gods, let him have good news...'

Ah, well, enough moping. Sally and her Others had left after the healing, and he needed to eat, to rest, and to gather his own Others from their scattered posts.

They would be leaving with the General - they had to be ready.

Maybe... maybe the man's movements would take them closer to wherever Heero was?

Zechs could only hope.

*

Trowa glared at the boys surrounding them, anger making his usually calm Earth Talent restless and chaotic inside of him. He didn't much care for the threat they were making to himself, but they were threatening Wufei, too.

He wouldn't allow that.

"Move away."

"Make us." The tallest boy glared back at him, his eyes shifting from Trowa to Wufei, to the small bronze hand gripping Trowa's belt, and back to Trowa. It was quite obvious what was going through his head.

Trowa felt like growling. This boy was getting on his last nerve.

"We just wanted to help him. There's no need to get so upset." The same boy had apparently decided to try and stay on their good side. "He looked lost, we only wanted to get him back where he belonged."

Trowa's arm tightened around slim shoulders. "He doesn't need your help now. You can leave."

The boy frowned. "Huh - how do we know you're going to help him? You could be trying to fool us!"

Trowa blinked.

Wufei beat him to answering. "How exactly would he be fooling me? Do I look like I don't recognize him?"

"Now, now, you're young." The boy, who couldn't be more than two years older than Wufei, said patronizingly. "You never know when someone you trust might turn out to be evil. I think you should come with us."

"I think you're crazy." Wufei replied calmly.

"I think you're coming with us whether you want to or not. Whether he wants you to or not." So much for staying on their good side.

"I think you might have a bit of trouble if you try to take him." Trowa's voice matched Wufei's level tones.

"I don't. Five against one, after all."

"Five against two." Wufei corrected. "You don't think I'm going to stand here and stare, do you?"

"Now, now, we won't involve you, Pretty." The patronizing tone was back.

"Yeah," said one of the boys from their left, "we wouldn't want to break you."

Wufei stared at them. Trowa grinned.

These boys had no idea who they were dealing with.

"Five against two still isn't much in your favor." The second boy was still putting his ideas into the argument.

"But it's not five against two." The new voice was very familiar.

Heero had found them.

His cool blue gaze swept over the five boys, and they nearly wilted. They started shuffling, four of them looking to their leader as they tried to decided what to do - whether to keep going or to run for their sorry little lives.

Heero had that effect on people.

Sadly, the leader opted to stay. "So, five against three is so much better, is it?" He was deliberately scornful, straightening his spine so he stood at his full height. He was a good three inches taller than Heero.

Big deal.

Wufei felt the sudden stir of Heero's own Talent, sensed that it was probing delicately at these boys. "What's he doing?" He whispered to Trowa, making sure the surrounding boys couldn't hear him.

"Checking to see if they are Talents. We won't use our Talents against them if they are not." Trowa's reply was just as quiet.

Apparently the boys weren't - Heero finished his Search and shook his head; that was for Wufei's benefit, since he couldn't Speak to his Fire yet. Trowa reluctantly let go of Wufei and moved his feet slowly until he was standing in a defensive position, ready for an attack. They wouldn't strike the first blow, either. They were still WarCraft, trained soldiers, even if they didn't use their Talents. These boys were no match for them and it wouldn't be proper for them to start the fight.

But they would certainly finish it.

*

Quatre and Duo met up at the intersection of two streets and stared around.

"I can't tell where Hee-chan is." Duo grumbled, looking miffed, "Just that he's ready to start knocking heads together. Damn, he can't do that without me! I want in on the fun."

"So violent." Quatre chided, amused. He didn't blame Duo at all - he could feel Heero's anger, not too strong yet, and knew that meant someone was threatening Wufei. Trowa was probably getting angry, as well, since their Third would have found their lost member by now.

"Like you wouldn't fight if you were there. Can you tell which direction we should go in?"

"No... well, yes. But I'm not sensing anything."

"Then how can you tell?"

"Duo." Quatre's blue gaze was exasperated. "Can't you hear?"

Duo's violet eyes widened, then closed, concentrating. Well, what do you know? Someone was yelling about a fight. He opened his eyes and grinned at Quatre, who rolled his own eyes and smiled back.

"That way." They said together, and ran off down the street to their right.

*

Okay, so these boys weren't just dumb.

They were really, really stupid.

Heero had already knocked one of them out, and Trowa was responsible for at least two black eyes.

And Wufei's knuckles ached from hitting one boy just a bit harder than he'd meant to.

Yet they kept coming. He didn't know whether to admire them or just sadly shake his head. If they kept this up, they were really going to get hurt. He ducked a punch that some blond boy threw at him and drove his own fist into his stomach, stepping back as the boy went to his knees, gasping for breath. That ought to be two down... where was the leader?

Two arms wrapped around him, pinning his arms to his sides and pulling him back toward the building behind them. They weren't arms that he knew, and he started struggling, bringing his heel down hard against someone's instep. There was a howl behind him and the arms let go - he turned to find the tall boy who had kept calling him 'Pretty'. The leader.

Punching him felt very good.

Especially with the expression on the boy's face. He looked like he'd just been clawed by a kitten he was stroking.

But he didn't go down - in fact, he took a step toward Wufei, raising his hands like he was going to grab him again. Wufei lifted his own fist, ready to strike again if he tried to touch him.

"Here, now! What's going on here?" A sharp voice froze all eight boys where they stood. A Guard stood glaring at them, hands on his hips. Behind him, Wufei saw Duo and Quatre skid to halt, wary of coming closer.

Trowa spun around when Heero did, took in the situation at a glance. Being caught out by the Guard as troublemakers wouldn't be good - they could be tossed out of the Township. They couldn't let that happen - they needed to get Wufei's wrist healed, and it wouldn't do their war record any good, either.

'Run.' Trowa heard Heero's order in his head and immediately obeyed, grabbing Wufei's good hand and dragging his Fifth with him. All of the boys they had been fighting, except the one Heero had knocked out, were already darting away, leaving the Guard sputtering impotently behind them.

The two boys didn't watch to see where their Others went - they didn't have time. They could hear the footsteps of the Guard running after him, his heavy boots thudding against the cobblestone street. The man had chosen to chase them instead of any of the other boys, and they needed to find a place to hide.

It wasn't easy.

Evening had fallen, and the merchants were closing up their stalls, moving the portable wooden stands out of the streets and thus removing most of the easily accessible hiding places. Trowa's green eyes tried to hunt for more, not an easy task while running at top speed.

They turned a sharp corner, and Wufei's own onyx eyes settled on another shadowy doorway, this one protected by an old rug that someone had hung over it. It had been there a long time, and one corner had ripped free, leaving a small shelter behind the draping cloth.

Perfect.

"Trowa!" He tugged at the hand holding tightly to his, pulling the taller boy toward the hidden nook. Trowa's head jerked around and he instantly saw where Wufei was heading. Both boys dove behind the rug, pressing tightly together in the tiny space. Wufei was peering through the tiny crack between the still-fastened side of the rug and the doorframe, watching for the Guard.

Trowa had abruptly forgotten the Guard existed. He had other things on his mind.

Like a slim, strong body pressed tightly against his side, seeming to thrum slightly with excitement, a small slender hand still tightly holding to his, the warmth that radiated off of bronze skin seeping through their clothes and into his bones...

The Guard came around the corner and Wufei tensed, his fingers tightening involuntarily and dragging Trowa's attention back to their predicament. They watched together as the man thundered into the street and slid to a stop.

He looked confused.

"Where could they have gone? There's no other turn..." The helmeted head turned slowly, trying to search out any hiding places. He passed over the door without pausing, apparently deciding two boys couldn't fit in that little space. There was no other place they could have gone - the street was deserted, all the mercchants and their stalls gone, all the doors closed and locked against the night.

"They musta doubled back - I shoulda seen 'em, but they musta tricked me!" The Guard sounded very confused, but it was the only explanation he could think of. He turned and hurried back the way he had come.

The two boys watching heaved matching sighs of relief. How that man had ever made Guard was a mystery, but at least it was a mystery that worked in their favor.

"Idiot." Trowa muttered.

Wufei laughed, caught up in the moment.

Trowa stared, surprised. It was the first time he'd ever heard Wufei laugh.

He already knew he wanted to hear it again.

He gazed down at the smaller boy, both having silently agreed to wait behind the rug until they were sure the Guard wasn't coming back. Wufei lifted laughing eyes to his and Trowa was ...entranced.

Wide dark eyes full of mischief and mirth, soft, panting breaths, cheeks flushed red both from the fight and running, black hair ruffled by the wind until it feathered around the delicate face, soft full lips slightly open and curved into a warm smile.

It would have taken a stronger man than Trowa to resist...

He leaned down and kissed him.