Kayne couldn’t be sure what the Head Mistress was up to; he’d never seen her dressed in anything but her simple house gown. Dealing with a raucous house full of children, he was accustomed to seeing her scowl from time to time but the scorn in her eyes had been a look totally foreign to the boy. How could someone he had grown to love so much show him such venom?
The man who had been at his side patrolling the city tonight was a stranger. They’d had little to talk about and the disgust in his voice when meeting Kayne was clear. The man may have been a veteran of the patrol, but certainly not of combat for all the discipline he showed, or lack thereof. Still, he couldn’t shake the feel of it all. He’d thought combat to be a glorious sport all its own but seeing the raw brutality of it all, how quickly a man could go from standing to dead, he didn’t think that any man’s life would be worth the price of his own.
He forced his legs onward, still shocked by the randomness of it all, to the northern gates. He had to get away from this place. If he could escape all this death he certainly wanted to. He felt the knife strapped to the side of his leg – Sunder’s Peak was days away, and desertion was punishable by death; he had to hope that whatever the Mistress was doing would keep the solders occupied until he could find safety.
The gates loomed ahead and though the officers outpost was just outside, Kayne saw no movement. He was sure that the eerie hum was the reason for the additional company being called back from the outlying areas – one of the daevas, the winged devils the Mistress had told them all stories about. He wasn’t sure they were even real – he certainly hoped he’d never meet one. The sound coming from above the forest was unmistakable from how Mistress Gallet had described it. The guard had been expecting trouble at the gates and if it truly was a daeva it would be far over the city walls by now. This revelation would have the captain in a foul mood.
He made his way forward. The gates were closed of course – the Children of Order welcomed anyone to their cities. The light shown on those who loved order; chaos welcomes the embrace of darkness. Or so the saying went. He made to knock at the guard’s entrance when a peep hole slide open revealing a beady set of eyes. They looked at Kayne then around to make sure he was the only one present, their focus finally ending back on Kayne with an expectant look.
Kayne looked back, suddenly petrified. There was a pass phrase that all messengers needed to speak with an officer. The man’s eyes narrowed before Kayne blurted out: “I must speak with the captain!”
The sight hole slammed shut and the bar slid opened. Any relief Kayne had felt in those brief moments vanished as the door opened and the man stood with his sword in hand and eyes filled with death. He took two steps forward, his sword raised in a guard position, and Kayne was taking steps backwards, hands raised up in deference. “I-I-I d-d-don’t know the pass phrase. I was s-s-stationed with the inner city guard. There’s been an attack on the lord’s—” he was cut off as the guardsman took a vertical slash at him. He jumped sideways, hands still raised in front of him, and continued: “fifty men! The entire inner city guard has fallen! We’ve got to…” he trailed off as the guardsman suddenly relaxed his posture looking back behind Kayne towards the keep.
Slowly, Kayne turned in the direction the guardsman was facing. Black smoke rose into the night lit by popping embers from the heart of the city – from the keep itself. Kayne’s jaw dropped and he looked back at the guardsman who met his eyes. “Well don’t just stand there, boy, the captain must hear of this immediately!” he said, sheathing his sword and turning back to the gates.
His heart thumped in his chest but he made his way to the door and stepped inside in front of the guardsman. A man leaned over a table dimly lit by candle light, he didn’t stir as the two stepped into the room until the guardsman spoke up, “Captain, the keep is under attack!” He looked up, sharply. “Tell him, boy, tell him!”
“Th-th-there’s a company or more, s-s-sir. The guardsmen with me kept me hidden so I could get a message to you. “
“What nonsense is this, Jall? You have a boy come here with dribble about the keep being besieged with a full company of the Order’s finest at the gates? I’ve got enough to deal with tonight without…” he trailed off as Jall pointed out the door insistently. The captain hurried out the door, followed by Jall and Kayne; the three of them stood there speechless as the fire flickered shadows against the sheer wall of the cliff making the entire city look like a cook fire. The captain’s weathered face wrung with stress, “Chaos is abound this night,” his voice a reverent whisper.
The captain spun on Jall, “Call back the forest patrols. Get the northern guard back immediately. If an attack is already underway the best we can do is regroup and hope we can arrive before they’ve secured the gates.” Jall saluted running to the gates and barking orders to solders who stood beyond. Soon the entire northern gate was a mess: mounted messangers running off into the night. A horn called out into the night and men ran to their new post, responding to the command.
In all the commotion, no one noticed a boy slip around the gate and make his way east along the forest’s bank.
*
Her flight above the forest had been weaved with frustration as the Matriarch realized there was no way for her to know if she was being followed through the thick canopy beneath her. The city was long behind her now, but the remaining distance on her journey was daunting. She had to make it back by morning else the children wake from their drug induced sleep – if that happened she had no way of carrying them safely back while in flight. She had to hope that luck was on her side, that Gallet’s sacrifice would be enough to see them all safely back to the roost.
She flew low to the tree line, wanting to stay out of view as much as possible. The canopy was thick, and it would be hard for anyone to locate her visually from under the trees – still her wings sang into the night and anyone within two miles could hear her on a night so clear as this one.
There was a rustle in the branches bellow her as the archer’s bow revealed his hiding place. She did not have enough altitude to evade his attack and the arrow struck her abdomen. It sunk deep into her left side, shuddering to a halt, and then she was falling. Her wings, unable to hold themselves open, closed at her back loosely and she fell. Limbs catching on branches from every direction, the arrow’s head shredding her insides as her body was jostled by the crash landing before the shaft finally broke as she slammed, head long onto the dirt below.
At some point she had lost the children, she didn’t know when and hoped for their safety. If she couldn’t defend against her attackers however, their safety was irrelevant. The forest was alive with the calls of wildlife she had startled in her crashing descent which would mask the sound of her attackers closing in on her.
Then there was always threat of the golems.
Her abdomen was constricted in a tight knot as she pushed herself off the ground to her knees. With one taloned finger she cut away the square of leather where the arrow had struck to examine the wound. On the surface it didn’t look bad, but she knew the internal damage was extensive, most of her organs would be bleeding and if something wasn’t done soon she would bleed to death.
She pulled the arrow out with a loud, defiant cry then slouched over weeping. She had such little strength, a wound like that drained strength fast, but she righted herself as best she could channeling her heart-gate. The green light swirled out from her chest and a warmth enveloped the wounds. The exhaustion was fierce and her throat was dry but the organs and muscles knew the healing path, their fibers stitching back together until the bleeding had stopped.
She closed her gate and with the strength she had remaining she sat up and began to tie her belted cloak back over the wings. They ached with every touch – they were badly damaged in the fall as well, but she was forced to only use her gate on the most pressing of injury. She would have to find the children and, if necessary, fight for their survival. Her wings ached, but tied to her back she knew the belted cloak would act as a sling to support their weight.
Looking up, she saw that the forest was dark; what little moonlight that did make it to the forest floor were tiny ribbons. The dust from her fall stirred in the air giving the moonlight the appearance of dancing on air. She gingerly rose to her feet, assuming a fighting stance. Her taloned fingers spread wide in a high guard, her body ready to channel pure vengeance upon her attackers but she remained perfectly still. Waiting.
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