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Ch: 12 The Chord of Evil

**

Dal and Rick rode the train to the capital. They themselves lived in the Regional Capital, but the concert would be in the Provincial Capital. The ride was not as long as the ride to Illinois, but it did take some time. Dal had taken all of his copious notes and tablets as they would be here for the duration of the week. Rick would be working on some compositional exercises and his practicing of the wind instruments. As good as Rick was at the strings, he was just miserable with a reed.

They reached the terminal station around 7 in the morning. Practice would start at 10 and run all day. They hurried to their hotel room. Rick stood on the stool and quickly braided Dal's mane and tail to ensure a perfect look. Instead of a black dress shirt, they had opted for white. More traditional. Now that he had the respect of the concert and choir there was no need to over do it.

Finally ready Dal tightened and adjusted his tie one more time in the modest hotel room. "So any plans today?"

Rick nodded. "I wanted to go see the Founding Memorial, and maybe see the local university and talk to the dean. You never know where next year will take us. I hear they have a great com positional department. Dal nodded. He had a feeling their time in their hometown was limited.

"Well how do I look?" Dal turned. Rick cocked his head to the side, reached out and removed an errant white thread. "Impeccable and professional." Dal embraced Rick, kissed him on the head, and headed to the hall.

Rick took a few seconds and decided that since it was warm out, he'd play full tourist. He donned a muscle shirt, shorts, some sneakers, a ball cap, and took a backpack. He stopped off at the concierge to pick up a few maps and bus routes and headed out.

**

"Very good basses, keep the pressure rising in the ostenato. The latin phrase is meant to drive itself into the brain like a madness. You, violins, ease off in measure two. See where I have it marked pianissimo? Add in a decrescendo, I'll give a manual cut off on that note, be ready for it."

The musicians nodded. They were used to changes now. It turned out that Dal had a talent at conducting that was outshining his composition skills. He could translate the written music into something almost sublime. The music director nodded to himself. Oh the equine still commanded authority, and he was very gruff at times, but the more people thought about it, the more they realized the attitude was warranted. If someone did something monumentally stupid, it was not a rare sight to see Dalten's eyes flash white with rage as he dressed someone down. Chances are, the mistake would never be made again. Lesson learned.

Dalten was getting nervous. Ken was due to be out of Basic and on break for a week for holiday. His parents were attending the ceremony, and they were all due here in the capital three days before the concert. Even Rick's parents had agreed to come. He kept this all in the back of his mind and focused on the music.

**

Rick had visited the memorial. It was awe inspiring. The sculptors had done a fantastic job of capturing the base furs, the changes, and the wars that followed. A simple list of names on single columns, both human and feral, listed the toll from each skirmish before the truce. Groups of kids were touring the monuments on display. Rick tried to keep out of their way. Once some teenager, another canine growled at him "traitor!"

Rick did a double take. Traitor? Rick stared the canine down. He was probably five years younger than Rick. Poor pup has no idea. Rick scratched at the horse-shoe mark.

Rick turned to the trek back to the hotel. He was getting hungry. A local guide told him of a good restaurant just down the street. Rick padded along, his mind on what he would do tomorrow. The sound of quickening footpads were the only warning he had. He was shoved roughly into an alley.

**

Dalten calmly conducted the second movement to a close. Something didn't feel right. His collar was too tight. He concentrated fiercely on the music. Finally he cut the note off, and turned the page. He raised his baton. He was starting to sweat. There was a pain in his side. He coughed. He thought he could taste blood. Two of the violinist shared a look and stared....

**

Rick was shoved to the ground. There were four or five of them. They were much bigger and much stronger. He didn't catch every word, but he took every hit. They must have broken a rib somewhere, he coughed up blood. They smashed his muzzle to the ground one or twice, eliciting a bone shattering crack. Rick coughed again. He was pinned to the ground. "Some canine you are. Wearing that mark of the devil. What, good canine cock not good enough for you?" It was the youth from before. He held a knife and stared at the mark on Rick's shoulder, he brought the knife down hard.

**

Dalten screamed. Pain lanced his heart. Bright red flames burned his shirt away. He crashed to his knees, the podium toppling over to the side.. Fire lanced through whatever bond he shared with Rick. He shouted Rick's name loudly and fell unconscious.

"Give him air!" Someone shouted. He felt a slap on his muzzle. Dal woke with a start. He could taste blood. His nose hurt. His chest was in pain. He blacked out again.

**

"He's a bonded!?" Someone shouted. Another set of feet ran. He was hefted onto a gurney. He looked around quickly and spied the music director. "Don't let up on them....I'm....sorry...." The mule waved at him...."go recover! Find Rick!"

The ambulance took him to a hospital. He was quickly triaged as being in shock and was taken to a temporary room. Soon a doctor came in. Human.

"Mr. Taylor? I'm Dr. Chin." Dalten nodded. His nose was feeling better, but his mark burned. "What happened?"

"I....I don't know. I was conducting. I felt flustered, then afraid. I couldn't....let....let the orchestra see....then pain. First in my ribs, then my face...then my heart."

The doctor took a few notes. "And this was at 2:23?"

"Yes....." Dal coughed. "Why?"

"I understand you're soul marked right?"

Dal froze. "Oh no.....Rick!"

**

Rick was in another room. Dr. Chin had a nurse bring a wheel chair in. They got Dal settled and brought him into the room. "He has multiple broken ribs, a broken nose, two cracked teeth, lacerations, and a deep wound to the shoulder. He would have bled to death if a bystander hadn't called the paramedics.

Dal felt tears in his eyes. He fell from the chair and crawled over to Rick. He took one hand in his.....

"He's in a medically induced coma. We were worried about brain swelling. All in all, he should be fine in a few weeks."

"Should be fine!? Should be? What does that mean!?" Dal shouted. The doctor urged the nurse out of the room.

"Listen, Mr. Taylor. He was severely beaten. The cops say a pack of canines got him, called him a blood traitor, and did this to him as a warning to those who don't conform to the ideals of speciesm. If you hadn't been soul bonded, he'd be dead. From what little we know he's drawing strength from you.

"How?"

Dr. Chin frowned and rubbed his chin. "We just don't know Mr. Taylor. We've contacted his parents they're on their way. They sounded incensed and not happy. They asked about you."

Dal froze.

"Don't worry, we here at Federal General have a policy. Anyone Soul Marked is family, they can't ban you from his side. We also called your parents they will be here within the hour.

**

Dal just knelt by the side of the bed, holding Ricks hand. Tears poured down his face. He heard the hoof beets before he felt his father's hand on his shoulder.

"Son, I'm sorry." Dal reached up and patted his dad;s hand. Another hand rested on his head. That would be his mom. A third on his other shoulder. Ken.

"They let me out early." He chuckled. Dal glanced at his brother in full navy uniform. He'd put on a LOT of bulk. A bull stood quietly behind him. He mutely waved.

Dal just turned to look at Rick. Tears streamed down his face anew. A gasp made him turn his head.

"He turned his head wiping his eyes. There stood Agustus and Kendra Wells. Quickly Dal stood and stepped aside.

"Rick, Rick!?" His mother cried and knelt by her son's side. Agustus took his place on the other side of the bed. He had tears in his eyes, looking at the Taylor family, each in turn.

"You.....you did this!"

Dalten had enough. He lumbered up. His torn shirt, revealed the Soul Mark. It burned a sullen red.

"No....people who don't think did this Augstus. People who are jealous, who are uneducated, and filled with hate did this. I swear to you...." Dal's voice broke. His father muttered "easy son" "I swear to you had I been anywhere near when that pack had attacked him, they'd be dead. Not injured dead."

Agustus backed up a pace.

"No Mr. Wells. Ignorance did this. Nothing else. And if my love brought this pain, well, I'm sorry, but I'm not ashamed of it."

Dalten turned to go.

"No, wait. Dalten."

Dal turned. Ken spoke up. Dal raised his eyebrows at that.

"Mr. Wells, I'm Dal's brother, Ken. Listen. Don't do what I did. I didn't think. I didn't think for a long time. I thought it was easier to let other people think for me. In truth I hurt more people because of that. I've, well, I've got friends who understand me better than I do, and I'm learning that not thinking is a very bad thing. Dal, he loves your son, so very much. Please....don't do something rash."

Agustus looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. "I see. I'll, think about it. I promise." He rose, and he and his wife left. Dal's dad gave him the address of the hotel the family was at, and asked for a call if anything changed.

**

Dal was discharged late that night and returned to the hotel. He called the music director. Practice was canceled for the next two days. They'd have to make up for it during the evenings to make it for the premier, but they all understood what Dal needed. He needed time with Rick.

The next few days Dal spent in Rick's room. He kept his score with him. He was revising the final chorus and movement. Tears kept stinging his eyes, but he worked away. He'd have to get this to the copyist by the afternoon for new prints.

He also angrily scratched out the original dedication "To a People United" to "Uniting the People"

**

On Weds, Dal felt strong enough to practice. He brought the score in. He dressed plainly in jeans, a white shirt, and formal shoes. He let his mane flow down, no longer braided. He hadn't cut it in months, and it was getting very long. It was also lightening in color as it lengthened.

He conducted the orchestra just as forcefully, and with passion, maybe more so than before. He was trying to keep his mind off of Rick who still languished in a coma.

Finally they got to the third movement. The new sheets of music were passed out. Dalten cleared his throat. "I know this is sudden, but I've revised the third movement. Don't worry, it shouldn't be too taxing. I took into account the amount of time we had left, and used some pretty clever compositional tricks to make it sound much more difficult than it is. We have tonight, and tomorrow. I'd like to focus our practice on this one movement. It deserves to be perfect.

The musicians nodded opening the folders. There were a few gasps as they read the music. It wouldn't be easy, musically, or emotionally.

**

Dal stood with his father and brother next to Rick's bed. There had been improvement, the Doctors said. His vitals were a lot more stable, and his brain was beginning to function normally. They'd reduced the medications required to keep him sedated. Once in a while his eyes would flutter open, but remain unseeing.

Rick's father and mother walked in. Dal nodded to them, they both nodded to Dal. Rick's mom wiped a tear from her eye as did Augustus.

"Dad, Ken, can you give us a few minutes?" Dal Sr. nodded and ushered his other son out of the room.

"Listen...."

Augustus waved Dal to silence. "No, son, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I said. Over the last week I've thought about what you said. I've seen you here, and watched you for hours, crying over my son. I've seen the mark on his chest, and the one on yours, glow. I thought they just might be some type of branding or tattoo. I didn't realize....how serious this was....until now.

Kendra stood up and walked over to Dal. She laid a hand on his arm. "Just make him happy. We may not agree with all of this, but well, if you make him happy, I think all of this will just be something we can laugh about in thirty years."

Dal gulped. "Thanks. I mean it."

"So do we. Break a leg. We'll be there."

Dalten knelt back down to the side of the bed and rook Rick's hand.

"Rick, sweetheart, I love you. You won't be there physically but I know you'll be there in spirit." Dal searched the canine face. The bandages around his muzzle and head had been removed. There was some bruising still.

The canine winced and opened his eyes. They crossed. "Dal....Dal?"

Rick squeezed the canine paw. "I'm here lover. I'm here......" Dal kissed Rick on the cheek. The eyes fluttered closed. "Knock em dead Dal.....knock em dead...."

**

The audience began taking their seats. Chas and William had heard what had happened to Rick. They'd stopped by the hospital and left flowers for Chris on the nightstand. The bull even gently brushed his cheek and asked him to "get better." The two sat and stared at the people around him. He thought he recognized the Taylor family a few chairs down, and a dalmatian female and human male, who must be Rick's parents.

The ministers were in the center front box, one from each province, and one from each of the remaining countries. This was an outdoor venue. The stars shone above, the band shell was lit from within with sunlight lights that made the stage look like day. All of the musicians were taking their places as were the choir. All of them extremely solemn.

One of the ministers stood and gave a speech from the stage:

"This marks the 190th anniversary of the Event and Final Founding. In those days we sought to bring peace from chaos lest we all be destroyed. Changeling, hybrid, feral, and human banded together and forged a new nation for all of the Peoples. We could no longer allow our differences to divide us and destroy us. It is to this memory that we commemorate this concert. To those we lost, and to those we saved.

The lights dimmed. Chas stared as Dalton walked to the podium, he was carrying something.

**

The lights came up. Dalton set the Easel down next to the podium. A few of the ministers gasped. The musicians rapped their music stands, a tradition as old as time indicating respect for the conductor. Daltan mounted the podium and bowed deeply. His flowing mane dropped low in the bow. He straightened up and took the microphone. His voice was strong, deep, and clear.

"When I took this commission, I took it for the fact that it was a good and noble commission. I didn't realize it would become a personal commission." He whisked aside a cover off of the framed picture sitting on the easel.

It was the one picture Chas took the night of the graduation. Dal and Rick sat side by side, beaming at the camera. The tiger found his breath caught.

Dal coughed and continued. "You see, I come from farm stock, noble folks, simple folks. We're not bred for being the smartest, or the wisest, but one thing you will learn about us is we fight for what we want, and we will do anything for those we love.....this....."

Here Dal's voice broke a little. "This is Rick. My Soul Marked Mate." Dal reached up and undid his tie. "I met him over coffee one morning. He is a musician like myself. In time we became friends and then lovers. He gave me strength. He gave me personality. He let me find myself, and I gave him stability, and something to hone in on. We compliment each other in so many ways.

Dal unbuttoned his shirt, and removed it. His chestnut coat shone brightly. The canine paw mark over his chest glowed a faint green.

"The other day a pack of canines attacked him, and would have killed him, all because he wore my mark. I wear his mark with pride. I will never cover his mark again." Dal looked at the picture and smiled warmly.

"It is to his suffering, and to the suffering of all those who still fight for their loves and friends. In particular the third movement is dedicated directly to Rick.

With that Dal turned his muscular back to the crowd. Chas thought he could see a second mark form on the back of the equine. Within seconds he knew he was right. The entire audience gasped as a green paw mark began to glow.

**

Later they would say it was the greatest performance since Beethoven's 9th. Dal labored through the first and second movements. He was still weak from his ordeal, and the sleepless nights he'd had since. The Voices of the World choir was beautiful in the second movement which ended hauntingly. Here Dal stopped before the third movement. He wiped his dripping head with his discarded shirt. His muscles shone with sweat.

"This Movement....Rick composed the main tune for a competition. I give to you, the theme and variations on Rick's Theme."

It was haunting. The movement was simple, elegant. Simple old time melodies wove around. Home on the Range, Red River Valley, All the Pretty Little Horses. Chas could tell one of the Taylor family, Dal's mother if he was any judge, was weeping openly. Even the Well's family was openly moved. It ended with a choral prayer. "Heart to heart, we live together. Fear not to be alone. When times are rough, and lives are hard, remember you are not alone....We all, are not alone.....together we unite."

When the music died. There was dead silence.

**

Dalten was sweating hugely. His breath came in rasps. He turned. His forelock was in his eyes. He brushed it aside, and put his hand over the paw print. "For you Rick..." The crowd went wild.

Dalten collapsed.

**

Sun was streaming in Dal's eyes. "Well, that certainly gave them a good bang at the end." Chas was sitting in a chair. Dal looked over. Rick's bed was next to his, the Tiger sat at the end of his bed. William stood in a corner. "No chairs big enough." he rumbled. Dal chuckled.

"What....what happened?" Dal spied a glass of water and took it to his mouth drinking as much as he could.

"Well, you put your hand over your heart, said something about, "For you Rick, it flared hugely green, and you passed out. Nurses here in the hospital were checking on Rick at the time. His mark flared green and he called out your name, and slumped back. Since then he's been a lot better. The doctors are, well confused is a good word."

The tiger pulled out a nail file and began honing one claw to a point.

"Huh."

"Rick's parents came in, said their goodbyes earlier. They left you some flowers and a card. Your parents came in and did the same. "Back to the farm!" Was something your dad said as he left. Apparently they can't leave it for long, and once the doctors informed them you'd be ok, they left with a stern lecture to me that I make certain you call them.."

"Huh" Was all Dal could think of. He glanced over. Rick was sound asleep but looked much better.

"William here had a chat with that bull Jacob. Did you know he's your brothers new lover?"

"What?" Dalten tried to sit up, and regretted it. He now had a headache. "Apparently it happened over the last several weeks. I'm sure you'll want to talk to your family about it."

Dal rested and closed his eyes.

Chas chuckled. "You know, when you get discharged, I have a mind to whisk you two away for a vacation. You've both been working so hard, and need some time to yourselves. I think something changed in your bond. You have a new mark by the way, on your back."

"I do?" Dal was shocked.

"Yes, and the audience was shocked when it appeared. So, are you going to go around shirtless from now on?" The tiger had a lewd smile on his lips. "Not that I'm complaining."

Dal gave him a sneer. "You heard what I said. I don't ever want to cover this mark up. It's too....precious."

Chas nodded giving him a smirk. "I understand, trust me..."

He undid his shirt sleeve. On Chas's shoulder was a perfect outline of bull horns. William drew up his shirt. There was a tiger paw-print with long claws and scratch markings on his stomach."

Dalten just stared. "We have a lot to talk about I think."