A Lion's Heart by Kracken Page B

was a fourth of the way finished with his breakfast, Tamarind was done with his, burping and curling up by the fire.
    “Are you sleeping again?” Shakra wondered incredulously.
    Tamarind muttered something incoherent and then did fall asleep. It seemed, in that respect at least, he wasn't any different from a house cat. Eat and sleep. That wasn't fair, he corrected himself, the werelion was exhausted. Shakra was a creature used to constant activity, though, and sleeping the day away wasn't in his nature. In fact, he needed to meet Shang for practice. That left Shakra with a dilemma. Tamarind needed a guard, for his own protection and for his people's protection against Tamarind.
    Shakra went to the door and ordered a servant. “Bring me Lormar, the mountain werewolf.”

 
    Chapter Six
     
    “Prince?”
    The mountain werewolf always made Shakra nervous. He was quiet, tall, and his black bands were distracting. It was also hard to forget that mountain weres were mercenaries and killed for a living. It was hard to believe that Lormar had turned his back on that lineage and had fallen head over paws for the hyper, sparkling desert werefox, Kyrill.
    “Come in,” Shakra said, finding his tongue, and motioned Lormar inside. When the mountain were saw the sleeping lion, his hand went to the short sword at his belt. Ears forward and nose twitching, he said nervously, “I smell blood... chickens.”
    “Dinner,” Shakra explained. “Tamarind isn't used to cooked food.”
    Lormar didn't take his eyes from the werelion as he warned, “Your Highness, you do realize how dangerous a werelion is... how quick... This one is small, but their speed and claws are deadly.”
    “He's a friend,” Shakra assured him, not certain whether that was true or not. “While he sleeps, I need someone to guard him.”
    “Your highness, I have skill, but even I am not a match for this kind of creature,” Lormar protested.
    Shakra looked over at the sleeping werelion. Tamarind had rolled onto his back and his bulging stomach and splayed paws were almost comical. Shakra couldn't imagine that lazy, sated, were suddenly killing them all. “I want you to keep anyone from entering my rooms,” Shakra told Lormar, “and to inform me if Tamarind leaves them. Don't harm him... unless it's necessary, of course.”
    “And who else will be on guard detail with me?” Lormar wondered sharply.
    Shakra lowered his ears, realizing that he was asking Lormar far more than he had thought. “No one, “Shakra replied. “I don't think I can trust anyone except you right now. The guards are loyal to Warden Kol.”
    “I assume Warden Kol wishes this creature caged or destroyed?” Lormar replied as his green eyes glared at him.
    “Yes,” Shakra admitted.
    “And you don't see the wisdom of that?” Lormar wondered acidly.
    Shakra stiffened and found his temper. “I am your prince and this is an order.”
    Lormar dared a lifted lip and a very faint growl. “I will not die for your order.”
    “I don't expect you to,” Shakra retorted.
    “As long as we understand one another,” Lormar grunted and moved to leave the apartment. “I will stand outside the door. That will lessen my danger.”
    “Acceptable,” Shakra agreed.
    “Lormar!” Kyrill came in like sunlight, his bracelets and anklets of gold chiming together and his earrings tinkling. He pressed unashamedly against the tall mountain were, smiling happily as Lormar bent briefly to touch noses. Kyrill gave Lormar's nose a brief lick. Kyrill's tail twitched straight up and bristled and the gold band at the base seemed even more outrageous.
    “Kyrill,” Shakra warned and pointed to the werelion. Shakra had a strong feeling that Tamarind was well aware of their presence, but that he was ignoring them. He couldn't imagine that a creature with the senses of a cat, could still be sleeping through their noise.
    “He's sleeping?” Kyrill asked. His tail drooped contritely, but his sparkling eyes didn't