Happiness in Slavery? or UC2 - Part One

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Their voyage to the north was not as uneventful as they had initially hoped.  They had heard scattered reports that clusters of hostiles littered the trails between the Central Resistance Camp and the Northern post.  However, the reports were sketchy at best, with no true estimation of how much threat they provided.  Not more than a day into the trip, they had already come upon a cell of Guards who had survived the fall of the Palace, those soldiers pinning their unit down with gunfire.

Cain dove down behind the cover of the brush, as a series of bullets went skimming over the top leaves, showering the blond with green bits. He was panting from the run it had taken to bring him here, as the man rolled onto his back in order to shift his attention to reloading his gun. The enemy was still riddling their area with heavy fire, making it close to impossible to make any headway on their journey north.

He heard a voice calling towards him from behind a tree a distance back. Ambrose. The man's concern was obvious under the commanding tone, "Wyatt!? You better be undamaged, pulling a stunt like that, Fighter Cain!"

"So far, so good." Cain shouted back in that direction, twisting his head in the direction where the other was hidden. Belatedly, he added, "Sir!"

"Stay put, and that's an order." The general warned him, and the blond knew that if he dared to disobey that command, he'd have more to worry about than enemy bullets. There was a lapse in fire from the enemy, as they reloaded their weapons for the next volley. It was during those few precious moments that Cain found himself getting joined there behind the brush, as the slim figure of Ambrose came dropping down beside him on the ground.

Cain found himself being glared at by those dark eyes, while the general expertly opened his gun with one hand, checking the chamber to make a quick count of how many rounds he had left before needing to reload. The blond smirked. "Is this exciting enough for your grand return to active duty?"

"I think I'd much prefer to be spending my day examining patients, rather than dodging what these bastards are shooting at me." The former Medic answered darkly, brow locked in a constant scowl as he tried to catch sight of the enemy through the brush. Ambrose squinted his left eye shut, shifting onto his stomach as he stretched his gun out in front of him. As Cain watched, the man managed to shoot one of the distant men in a shoulder, disabling the enemy's firing arm. That injured figure howled in pain, falling to the side, while Ambrose murmured, "The beauty of being trained in the medical field, however, is that I know where the bullets will hurt the worst."

"You do understand that we are shooting to kill here, right? I doubt they're wrestling with your pacifist issues, General."

Ambrose shot him a withering look, but Cain was already following up the man's shots with his own, picking two men off with more critical shots to their torsos. The other men in their unit were cutting down the rest, Cain glad that Ambrose had the foresight to believe that they'd need the assistance on their journey to the Northern Resistance Camp. While the corruption of the Palace was a thing of the past, it was still a wild, wild wilderness out in the O.Z.

Once the pace of the shots coming their way had scattered, Cain took the chance of pushing up onto a knee. At this angle, he was able to see his enemy more clearly, so that the shots which he sent their way were more selective. Making the bullets count. He had well-trained men at his back, so it wasn't long until they had managed to silence the enemy altogether.

Beside him, Ambrose stirred, preparing to push up to his feet to check if the area were clear. A hand on his shoulder stopped him short, Cain giving the man a hard look. "I'll check. You wait here."

"But, Wyatt..!"

"Don't argue. I know what I'm doing."

The blond eased up carefully, gun held ready in his hand. His blue eyes searched the area for any sign of life from their enemy. The men who had attacked them were strewn out, dead or wounded. Victorious in the fight, they had successfully culled the threat. Cain turned slowly back to the brush, able to see Ambrose peeking around the brush, intently watching the blond. He nodded back to the crouched man. "It looks like everything's clea--"

There was a shot from nearby, Cain grunting as he felt an explosion of pain in his left shoulder, the force of it knocking him forward to stumble a step. He heard Ambrose shout out his name, before the general returned his own shot, and Cain heard the last enemy cry out in pain before spilling over to the ground. Despite Ambrose's dislike in killing, the man had managed to make that shot land a direct hit in the Guard's face. Maybe the general was getting used to it?

Ambrose was already hurrying up from behind the brush, running over to where the blond lay on the ground. He saw Cain clutching at his shoulder where the bullet had struck him. "Damnit, Wyatt! Now look what you've done!" The man's gun was dropped to the side, Ambrose reaching back to his belt as he withdrew a small knife. It sliced into the black sleeve of Cain's uniform, cutting away the fabric around where that blood had gathered.

Cain blinked dazedly up at the man. "What? I didn't get shot on purpose."

The general's face was concentrated as he tended to Cain, other men from the unit moving around them to check if it were truly clear and to tend to their own wounded. Cain could hear fabric tearing as Ambrose yanked at his sleeve, the general's pallor white as a ghost. He saw the former Medic slump slightly with relief, as Ambrose saw the extent of the damage. "Just a graze. You're one damn lucky man, Fighter Cain."

Ambrose quickly bunched up that torn sleeve into a wad of fabric, calling blindly to one of the other soldiers. "Give me a bottle of alcohol, quick. How many are down?"

"Two dead, three wounded, Sir." One of the men answered quickly, while another slapped a bottle into Ambrose's waiting hand. The general scowled upon hearing the news about the wounded and casualties, soaking Cain's shirt sleeve in the alcohol to make it more sterile.

"You're going to reek of whiskey. Can't be helped. Now hold this against the wound, and get one of these men to bind that, Wyatt. I need to check on the others." He patted Cain on his uninjured shoulder, pushing himself up as Ambrose hurried off in the direction of where those wounded men lay.

~~~~~~~~~

He found Ambrose later, when the general had finished tending to the wounded. The dark-haired man was crouched at the edge of a small stream, using a cloth to wipe off his forearms, the rag stained red from his efforts. Cain ambled over to stand near the man, deliberately making his steps audible on the pebbles to alert the general to his presence. "Hey.."

"I'm sending the wounded back to the other camp." Ambrose murmured, angling his eyes briefly up to Cain before focusing back on his cleaning efforts. "They'll survive -- though I worry that without proper care, Fighter Getz will probably end up losing that leg."

"I'd say that they were fortunate to have you here with them, General." Cain responded, as he eased down to sit on the rocks beside Ambrose. He watched as the man continued to scrub, before leaning over to snatch that bloodied rag out of the general's hand. "Here. Let me. You're just making a mess."

Ambrose didn't protest, wryly looking down to the water flowing past them, as he said quietly, "I'm used to having anesthetics for pain, balms for wounds, wonderous medical devices at my fingertips. And soap, to clean off with. At this moment, I miss the soap most of all."

Cain chuckled quietly at the man's complaint. He dipped the rag into the stream, until it was heavy with clean water. With a careful grip, Cain raised Ambrose's closest arm into his care. He slid the rag over it, tenderly wiping off the blood of his comrades. "I'm sure that they'll have soap up north. If not, you can probably put in a request. You're just having to adjust back to the simple ways of life that us normal folk live."

"True." The man's dark eyes had shifted from the stream in order to watch Cain's progress, Ambrose musing on the contrasts of their flesh, seasoned tan and startling pale. He flickered his eyes up to the blond's face, Cain intent upon his work. "You saved me from a bullet today, Wyatt. That soldier would have shot me instead if I had come out like I intended to."

"That's my job, isn't it? To keep my superior officer from getting himself killed." The blond smiled faintly, touching his gaze to Ambrose's.

"It would also make you a rather poor lover, if you went and let me get killed." Ambrose pointed out, as he leaned down towards the other man in order to press a kiss to Cain's mouth, which the blond accepted warmly.

"The tent would be colder." Cain mumbled against the general's mouth, since Ambrose seemed intent on not having this be a quick kiss, as the man's hands cupped the blond's face between them to angle his head better. Any other witty remarks could wait, so long as he had that mouth on his to enjoy.

Ambrose pulled back a few inches, his breath hot against Cain's face. His brown eyes were growing hotter as they swept over the blond, whispering, "This is going to be difficult, you know. Behaving myself until we get to the new camp. It still feels like a honeymoon."

"Without the whole marriage part of it. But I can sympathize, sweetheart. I want you, too."

The general sighed, as he noticed that Cain had finished getting him cleaned off. Ambrose began to roll down his sleeves, before his attention locked on the fabric tied around Cain's shoulder. "How's your shoulder?"

"Hurts something fierce. I think I'll survive, Doc."

Ambrose chuckled softly at the title, as he cautiously unwound the torn bandage from the wound. He frowned as he did, shaking his head. "A monkey could have tied this better. There is hardly any pressure being put against the graze. You're lucky that this didn't bleed all over the place."

"Well.. I tied it, actually."

"Oh.." The general blinked. "That would explain it. I thought that I had taught you better than this, Wyatt." He shook his head at the blond, adjusting the strip so that it embraced that gash better, tying it far more professionally than Cain. "There. That will last through the night. I'll change it for you tomorrow."

"Thanks, Doc. So, what now?"

Ambrose pulled Cain up with him, as he began to return to where they had set up their camp for the night. "Now we go and get some sleep." He gave the blond a coy look. "You want to bunk next to me tonight, Fighter Cain?"

"I would love to, General Ambrose." Cain smirked as he escorted the man back to the fires of their camp.

It took a few minutes for Ambrose to get settled. He had to make certain that everything in camp was ready for the night, including the arrangements for those soldiers who would be taking the night watch in shifts. Cain was laying back against the base of a tree, already dozing, when the general finally joined him. Ambrose slid down to the ground beside the blond, settling his weight against the solid warmth of his lover. In the space of the shadows between their bodies, Cain felt the general's fingers curl around his, one of the few displays of affection which they were allowed to share without anyone's notice.

The blond felt those brown curls spilling across his shoulder as Ambrose scooted closer, using the excuse of needing a place to rest his head as it lay down on Cain. It was soothing to Cain to feel the steady pulse of that warm breath against the skin of his throat. With that rhythm counting away the minutes, the blond managed to fall asleep.
~~~~~~~~~

It was early morning when a few capable soldiers were dispatched to take the wounded back to the other camp. A light frost had coated the area overnight, the atmosphere around them foggy with moisture. As the men finished strapping the injured soldiers to the small stretchers which they'd use for transport, Ambrose completed a check on their security to insure that the terrain would not jostle them too much along the way, potentially aggravating those injuries further. His breath was a steady cloud pouring into the air, as he quietly gave instructions to those who had been entrusted with the task of getting their comrades to safety. They moved out shortly before the suns had risen. Ambrose stood on the edge of the camp, remote from the others who stayed, and watched their progress until that distant fog had swallowed them.

He became aware of a presence beside him. Without even having to check, he knew that it was Cain. The man stood at his side in the cold morning as their comrades left. Cain braced his hands on his hips, blue eyes searching that distant spot where the others had gone. "I'm sure that they'll be fine. We cleared out most of the packs of resistance on our way here."

"I know." Ambrose nodded, face composed. "I'm worried more about the rest of us. Not even halfway through the journey, and I've already lost five men under my command. I wonder if I was as prepared to fulfill my duties as I had thought when I left the camp."

"No one here is going to question your judgement, Ambrose." The blond murmured, eyes angling sidelong to study the profile of his lover's pale face. "Your men trust you."

"That's the problem, Wyatt. I don't have complete confidence that I trust in myself." The general reached up to shake fingers through his dark curls. "I'm responsible for these men. They are looking to me to protect them. But I have spent the last decade better accustomed to how to protect just myself, rather than others." Ambrose smiled blandly with a glance towards Cain. "It kind of sounds like I'm whining, doesn't it?"

Cain shrugged in answer, wincing as the motion caused his sleeve to put pressure against his wound. "I wouldn't say that. It just kind of sounds like you're human, Doc. Everybody doubts themselves from time to time."

A dark eyebrow arched, dubious. "Even the infallible Fighter Wyatt Cain?"

"Especially him." That subtle tease made him chuckle, reaching up to rub a finger along the base of his nose where the cold had made it start to run.

Ambrose smiled, and this time it was not forced. Cain thought that when those smiles actually reached the general's eyes, they were quite beautiful. If he wasn't so inexperienced with giving those kind of compliments, he might have mentioned it to the other man. "Thank you, Wyatt. I'm really very glad that you're here. Even if we weren't... together, you are still the kind of man that inspires confidence in others." He reached up, patting him gratefully on his good arm.

As Cain let those words sink in, the general was stepping away from his side, voice lifting to call out to the others. "Let's get this camp packed up, men. I want this forest long at our backs by nightfall. Fighter Cain, you're with me: We're going to scout ahead and see if any more cowardly threats are hiding along the road. Gentlemen, we will be back within the hour. I want this plot of land looking like no one's ever touched it."

The men hurried to comply, many of them working to clean up the last bit of breakfast that they'd managed to scrounge up. Others began to wind up bedrolls, securing equipment, while Ambrose waved Cain ahead with him. They walked alongside each other, picking their way quietly across the foreign terrain. The forest was quiet around them aside from the little sounds of nature, birds calling occasionally in the fog.

Ambrose nodded in satisfaction as he heard those sounds, speaking quietly to the blond beside him. "The birds are singing. That's good. If there was a unit of Guards somewhere nearby, then they would be silent. When lost in the forest, it's a good practice to listen to the woods around you for some sign of danger. If the animals go quiet, that usually means that they have sensed a predator around. One or two people don't usually bother them. A cluster of humans tromping around the brush, though, would definitely cause a disturbance."

"Who taught you that?"

"The man who brought me into the military." Ambrose said absently, head turning left and right as his eyes scanned the area. "He had a lot of good information and skills which he taught me. I entered the Resistance knowing nothing aside from what I had read in books. In the reality of battle, remembering some text on a page does not necessarily guarantee survival. I learned that early on."

"Huh. I only joined recently, after some denizens of the Palace raided the town that I was living in. I'd gone out with some of my friends on a hunting trip up in the mountains. By the time we got back, they'd wrecked the place, taken or killed people that I had known all my life. That was all it took to convince me that it was time for some change in a world where that could happen."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Wyatt. I hadn't known. But thank you for telling me. Otherwise, I'd probably just believe that you enlisted because you liked getting into fights."

"Well, that too." Cain smirked to himself. "I had a bit of a reputation when I was younger. Got into plenty of brawls."

"You were a bully?"

"No. I was the one who came around and beat up the bullies." He grinned crookedly, looking over to Ambrose as the man laughed in response. "What, is that funny?"

Ambrose shook his head in amusement. "Just suits you is all. I can picture it perfectly in my head. Sturdy young Wyatt Cain, dirty-faced and determined, storming up to smash some righteous vengence down upon those stupid enough to victimize the less fortunate."

"I was never dirty-faced."

"Regardless, I could have used you in my childhood." Ambrose smiled as he shifted their direction. "I was popular with the bullies. Scrawny, pale, terribly nerdy. And some couldn't decide if I were a boy or a girl, so I suppose they channeled their confusion into picking on me."

Cain nodded. "And look at you now. You're a General in the Resistance Army of the O.Z. Though I guess it's still hard to tell sometimes if you're a boy or a gir--Ow!"

The blond was cut off by the other man, who had given him a firm sucker punch in the arm before he could finish his remark. Ambrose fired him a warning look, before pausing in his steps to look around them, considering. "I think it's going to be clear crossing through here, at least for a few leagues. We can head back and get the others rounded up once they are finished with striking camp."

Ambrose turned to head back in that direction, but a hand on his arm stopped him short. He glanced towards the blond as Cain drew him in close. "They probably won't be anywhere close to finished. No sense in hurrying back just to wait."

"After that comment of yours, do you really think that I'd--" The general's teasing voice was muffled abruptly by Cain's mouth swooping down to cover it. Which, considering the restrictions on their intimacy during this last week, managed to instantaneously erupt them into passion.

Their lips searched hungrily, tongues fencing together in a fight for domination as their mouths fused. Ambrose's hands shot up to clutch the back of Cain's head, using that firm touch to gain the upperhand in their tiny struggle, that pressure lasting until the blond finally relented to the kiss, so that Ambrose could probe the taller man's mouth at his leisure. Cain decided that he could tolerate losing the battle, so long as his lover did not stop making his head spin like this.

His hands slid around to lock behind Ambrose, using the bulk of his larger frame to push the man backwards. He heard the general grunt with a small shock of pain when Cain slammed his back up against a tree, the blond grinding forward mercilessly against his lover. If Ambrose wanted to command the kiss, then Cain was determined to command the rest. He felt the hands of his lover reaching for him, sensing that Ambrose was going to attempt turning the tables and taking the dominant position.

Cain snatched hold of those slim wrists, putting force behind his motions as he slapped Ambrose's arms back against the trunk of the tree, effectively pinning them into place as he growled out a warning against his lover's mouth, "No. Not today. Today, I am going to remind my body just how you feel inside."

"Oh gods, Wyatt..." Ambrose gasped out at the blond's firm statements, shuddering at the promise behind those words. His fingers curled over away from the tree, though he was unable to get a grasp on anything while Cain had him held like this. Still, there was more than one way to be in control of the sex. If not through the physical method, Ambrose still was a man of means.

He opened his eyes, locking them with Cain's piercing blues. Every bit of what he was feeling right now, the very turbulence of emotions burning through his system, Ambrose stamped it to perfection in that gaze. And once he saw the blond's eyes responding in kind, he knew that he could come out on top yet, voice husky but firm. "I want you to fuck me."

Just like that, Cain conceded the victory over to his lover, as he rushed to do nothing else but comply with the order. He nodded, face firm with concentration as he managed to get Ambrose clumsily undressed, though neither of them bothered removing garments that weren't inhibiting to the process. In retrospect, Ambrose would be thankful that they'd left his shirt on, because the rough bark of the tree digging into his back was painful.

Cain's hands roamed wildly over Ambrose's legs, the skin burning hot in comparison to the chill of the air around them. He dropped his face forward against the man's shoulder when Ambrose reached between their bodies to get Cain's pants open, fingers diving in to wrap around the heat of the blond's arousal. Cain twisted his mouth to caress his lover's throat, whispering raggedly, "We don't.. We don't have anything to.."

"I don't care." Ambrose whispered, beginning a motion with his hand that made Cain's entire body jerk as pleasure lanced down his spine.

"It'll hurt you."

He grunted as Ambrose's fingers tightened around him, squeezing almost painfully. Ambrose's teeth scraped against the shell of Cain's ear as he growled quietly, "Wyatt. If you put this off for one minute longer, then I intend to push you down on the ground and show how indifferent I am to the thought of a little pain right now. I want you. Take me." That firm hand expertly guided him, teasing him with the proximity of hot flesh, and Cain let his hesitation die.

The first thrust was painful. The second more agonizing. Ambrose grit his teeth against the pain, feeling like he were being split in two. He hissed in a low breath, twisting his hands so that his fingers could dig into the bark of the tree to ground himself from the ache. If he could endure through this, then it would be just what he wanted: No sweet words and gentle caresses, just a quick, hard fuck. Cain paused, opening his mouth, probably to ask something really stupid, like if he were hurting him. Ambrose prevented that by driving his tongue deep into the blond's mouth.

Cain's hips continued to thrust, setting a steady pace that quickly erased that pain, as the friction began to feel wonderful. They rocked together, Cain's weight heavy against his lover, overwhelming Ambrose as the man strained to accept the blond's passion. Ambrose rolled his head back against the tree, feeling it snag and pull at his hair as Cain's force rocked him up along the surface.

Then it was Cain who reached between them, clutching hold of Ambrose, adding to his lover's pleasure with quick strokes. It was a matter of pride for him, since he found himself so close to release, and would not be satisfied unless his lover gave in first. Ambrose panted raggedly, a low keening sound of pleasure rolling out of his chest as Cain's touch plugged into the outlets of his nerves like a surge of electricity. His thighs pressed tightly to the blond's hips as they bucked together.

"Give in to me." Cain grated at a hot whisper panted into Ambrose's hair. Every thrust became more intent, driving home his need. "Ambrose, give in."

Gasping, Ambrose nodded desperately, eyes dazed as he opened them to the sky, mouth open to unleash constant sounds of delight as he raced for his release. Cain urged him with hips and hand, having such precise skill that Ambrose was quickly overtaken. The blond sighed in relief when he felt his lover's body shuddering, bucking wildly away from the tree as much as it could, and Cain bit down on the ridge of Ambrose's shoulder as he thrust strongly forward for his own climax.

Cain continued to thrust, driving them through release, not wanting to let go of the little waves of pleasure until they had vanished completely. Only when it had passed did his hips slow to a stop, leaning his weight heavily against Ambrose, who put up no protest if he were getting crushed from it. Ambrose's hands slid forward in order to lock an embrace around Cain's neck, and their panting mouths touched together in a kiss that was tender where their lovemaking was not. At last, the general was dropping his head back against the tree, opening his eyes to fix Cain with a sated smile.

"Feel better now?" The blond asked, gaze warm where it passed over Ambrose's face.

"Yes and no." Ambrose whispered. "That sexual tension has been effectively taken care of, but I probably should have thought to stretch a bit ahead of time, since I have a feeling that I am going to be sore all over."

Cain's face darkened with concern. "I'm sorry. I did warn you.."

"It was worth it, Wyatt." His lover promised him, as Ambrose affectionately slid his fingers down Cain's face. "If you really want to make it up to me, then help me get dressed. I don't think I'm going to manage it on my own right now, and we really should be getting back to the others."

"Yes, Sir." Cain nodded, easing back to let Ambrose find his footing on the ground. He cleaned them off hurriedly, before securing his own pants. Ambrose was indeed having trouble keeping on his own two feet as the general struggled to get his own trousers back on. Cain assisted him, getting his lover back into some semblance of order. His eyes flickered to that nest of brown curls, eyeing all the bits of tree debris which littered it. "Your hair is a mess, sweetheart."

Ambrose reached both hands up, bending his head forward as he shook out as much of it as he could. He laughed quietly, still rather breathless. "It's all your fault. Any aftermath of pain, I take partial responsibility for, but the tangles in this mop I intend to hold you utterly accountable for, Fighter Cain."

"I'll take them as evidence of a job well done." Cain murmured, using a hand on Ambrose's elbow to keep the man steady as they made their way back in the direction of the camp.
~~~~~~~

"You know, something just occurred to me." Cain murmured as they walked along at the head of the unit, glancing towards Ambrose beside him. "I think earlier was the most that you have ever talked to me about your past. You were pretty mum about all of it back at the Palace."

"Was I? Hm.." Came the vague response, as Ambrose's eyes remained fixed on the horizon.

Their unit had moved out shortly after their return from scouting the wilderness. So far, Ambrose's instinct that they would not encounter any more trouble had proven correct. They were able to relax a little more, the men in the unit exchanging conversations, tales of past battle prowess, or merely entertaining themselves with dirty jokes. Ambrose did not uphold the strict militant behavior of his peers, which is why Cain guessed that there was no shortage of volunteers to join their particular unit. Somehow, that mildly lax approach to commanding his men had also earned the general some of the best fighters in the Resistance.

"That wasn't an answer." Cain pointed out.

"No, I suppose it wasn't. Okay. What do you want to know?"

"Well.." The blond opened his mouth once the invitation was given, trying to think up something that he wanted to know. Cain, for the life of him, had absolutely nothing enter his mind at the moment. "I'm not sure. Nothing that I can think of at this moment. Will you be willing to volunteer information beyond this point if I come up with anything?"

Ambrose laughed. "Of course, Wyatt. All you have to do is ask. I'm sure that there is plenty that I want to know about you, too. Is the offer mutual, if I question you about your past?"

"I've got nothing to hide." Cain shrugged. "Not much to tell, either. My life before the Resistance was pretty quiet."

"Do you intend to make a career out of the military?" Ambrose asked, looking curious over.

"Doubt it. Once everything settles down, I'll probably return back home and get back to ranching. That's what I've been doing since I was tall enough to ride on a horse."

"Riding horses and smiting bullies. You've got some well-rounded skills there, Fighter Cain."

"Try wrestling with a spooked cow. After that, fighting other guys seems pretty easy."

Ambrose chuckled. "I'll take your word for it. I hope that I never find myself having to wrestle any cattle for the rest of my life."

"What about you?" Cain smirked towards the other man. "Are you planning to spend the rest of your life being a General?"

"I might have a few annuals still left in me. Though I suppose the future of my career will depend on how the future of this government pans out."

"You really think that one of you are going to be put in charge of everything?"

Ambrose shrugged lightly, shaking his head. "I don't know. Maybe. Lonot has already expressed to me that he doesn't want the position, which is truly a shame. He has the experience and the seasons behind him that he would make an excellent leader. It's been a long time since I have met with or heard about General Raynz of the South. My impression in the past was that he was a scholar like myself; educated in literature, culture, knowledgeable about how the world works. I'm not sure if Raynz is still in charge of things down in that territory. He might have been replaced. Communication still remains difficult for the Resistance. That's one of the issues that we hope to iron out once everything is more organized."

"And what of the Eastern General? I still haven't learned his name."

"Well..." Ambrose looked sorrowful. "It used to be General.. Raw. However, I heard a rumor while I was in the Palace that an attack on his camp had left him dead. I haven't heard who they have replaced him with."

"You knew this 'Raw'?"

"He was the one who I had mentioned earlier. The one who had gotten me into the military. Raw fostered my career up through the ranks. I doubt that I would have come nearly this far without his support. We were... quite close." The man finished lamely.

Cain digested that vague claim, wondering how much he should have read into it. However, he could tell by Ambrose's reluctance that the man wasn't inclined to discuss the details of that matter. Instead, the blond murmured, "What about you? If they offer you the position, are you going to take it? Are you going to become the leader of the O.Z.?"

Ambrose's response was a faint smile. "I haven't made up my mind about that yet. That will depend, as I said, on how everything pans out." He studied Cain sidelong. "If I do take the position, what will you do? I'll probably be expected to settle at some central location as a hub between the regions. Not some small ranching town close to the hills."

"Well, I..." The blond scowled thoughtfully. He had been sincere in expressing his desire to return home once things were settled. It had not crossed his mind that there was a strong possibility that Ambrose was going to have to be in a separate part of the O.Z. Cain shrugged. "I guess we'll have to see what pans out, like you said. We won't know much about anything until we arrive at the Northern post."

"True. There's still plenty of time to figure out the future." Ambrose pointed out, before he swung around without breaking his stride to look back at the soldiers in his unit. "How about a break, men? We've made good time so far. Take five for a breather."