Half Discovered Wings (36 page)

‘
Right.’

Caeles galloped away, managing well without the saddle, as
Gabel and the magus continued toward the centre of the town. They
came to the remains of a few buildings that had been set alight in
the previous attack. They were now smouldering with new flames,
though little more damage could possibly be done. One or two shili
were curled up by the fire, immobilised with fear.

‘
This way,’ the hunter ordered, starting down the road leading
toward the town hall. ‘The hall is where the people are staying. We
should go and help protect them.’

Just as he
spoke, a white-clad rider on horseback advanced into the street.
Someone else’s blood stained the bottom of his robe and boots. The
black eye-slits stopped dead on the magus.

‘
Nigger
shit
,’ the voice behind the mask rasped.
The horse turned and charged.

Gabel had his pistol raised, but before he fired something
happened: the horse stopped dead in mid-gallop, as if frozen, and
the rider slumped forward in his saddle from the force of
it.

He kicked the horse with his spurs. ‘
You voodoo fucking coon
, what the
hell have you done to my—’

Before he could finish the magus strode forward, his hands
outstretched, fingers curled to talons. His errant eyes glowed with
a fierce green light. The stars on his cheeks gleamed in the
flame-dampened darkness.

The rider spasmed in his saddle as the magus advanced, and
then, suddenly, the robes began to change colour. The white fabric
darkened from the hems upward, turning a dull black. The silver
chain mail turned grey and crumbled into powder. Colour bled into
the fabric, moving upward toward the mask, and the rider howled in
terror, struggling to get out of the saddle but unable to. The mask
was enveloped in darkness.

Finally the magus stopped walking forward. He lowered his
head, green fire dripping from his eyes. The hands relaxed, and
then clapped once. The Luxman erupted into flames atop his horse,
and both animals cried in pain before dropping to the ground,
nothing more than ash.

The magus said
nothing to Gabel, only strode on forward, scattering the ashes as
he went.

~

The town hall was filled with soot-blackened women and
children as nearly all the men, bar the crippled and ancient, were
out combating the blaze. Amidst all the strangers, Rowan felt quite
alone.

She recognised a few of the girls from Turenn’s place. They
were huddled together in a corner, some weeping, and most crying
out his name. Rowan knew how they felt. She feared greatly for
Turenn, who had left the relative safety of the bordello to battle
the robed villains and the flames that chased them. She didn’t envy
the girls, all of whom had faces much darker than her own. They
would be more prominent to the attackers who might pass Rowan by
because of the lightness of her skin.

The Mayor was also out. Every time the Luxers attacked, Lady
Firrok would go and protect her town. A fierce warrior, the woman
knew her two sons could look after themselves and, since the death
of her concubine at the hands of the hooded devils, she had stopped
fearing for her own life. The earliest of the refugees in the hall
had seen her leave, dressed in nothing more than her normal attire
and wielding the deadly bo-staff. Several of the stronger women had
gone with her, each with a shaven head to denote their
apprenticeship. Many had elected instead to stay and protect their
children.

Rowan felt
uncomfortable without the presence of men. She realised she had
become too reliant on Joseph and Caeles to protect her. Only the
proximity of the guards, who stood outside the door to the hall in
case of attack, gave her enough peace of mind to sit and try to
calm down.

She felt weak.
Woken after only a few hours of sleep, she struggled to stay awake
despite the commotion. She closed her eyes, leaning against the
front of Firrok’s throne.

When she heard the door open and slam closed, and then the
sound of Turenn’s voice, she thought she was dreaming. She heard
the tearful cries of the girls in the corner, and then Turenn’s
deep voice saying, ‘It’s okay, girls, it’s all right, I’m all
right! Don’t you worry now, everything will be fine. The fires are
almost out, it’s not as bad as last time. No, no, Cherrie, they’re
all gone now, they won’t be coming for us today, you’re fine, we’re
all fine…’

Rowan listened
to the monologue for a full minute before realising she was awake.
She opened her eyes and saw the shimmering silk clothes of Turenn,
standing with his back to her, comforting the girls who cooed
around him, gripping his arm, kissing his face.

Rowan watched
from her sleeping position, propped up against the throne. She was
aware of a tear rolling down her cheek, but felt too weak to wipe
it away.

Then she heard
Turenn say: ‘Where is Rowan? Where’s my Rowan?’

It took a
second to sink in, and then she sat up sharply, back of her hand
immediately wiping away the tear and then rubbing her eyes. She had
only managed to half stand when Turenn was beside her, supporting
her and sitting her back down.

‘
There, there, don’t put yourself out … You’re tired, my Rowan,
you should sleep.’

‘
I don’t want to sleep now.’

‘
It’s okay. The Luxers have left us. For now, they’ve left us,
we’re safe…’

‘
It isn’t the danger I want to stay awake for…’

But her eyes
were already closed, and as she drifted into a heavy slumber she
was partially aware of Turenn’s lips softly touching her cheek.

‘
Turenn,’ she said instantly, and sat up, but he was gone from
her, standing across the room. How did that happen? Her head felt
heavy.

Turenn
turned.

‘
Rowan,’ he said.

‘
Was I asleep?’

‘
Yes, for nearly an hour. Are you feeling any
better?’

She looked
around. The room was a little emptier, only a few small families
left. Some men had arrived now, comforting their wives or lovers or
children, but they were gradually leaving. Rowan saw one of
Firrok’s lady warriors greet her husband and kiss him fiercely; she
was as tall and strong as he was.

‘
Is everything okay now?’ she asked.

‘
The fires are almost all out. They didn’t use fuel this time,
so it was much easier to suffocate the flames.’

‘
Are you okay?’

‘
I’m fine. How are you feeling?’

‘I was afraid
for you,’ she said quietly, and instinctively grasped his hand. He
took her other and clasped them both.

‘
Don’t worry about me, Rowan. I handled myself all right
tonight.’

‘
I’m glad you did.’

Turenn smiled.
‘Here,’ he said, turning to face the throne. ‘This is where my
mother sits. You’ve seen her in it? Sitting so tall and proud. As
well she should. She’s a good woman. But, she won’t be around
forever. And Saykaan has refused to accept his responsibilities as
heir. I would gladly yield to Saykaan if he asked it, but as it is,
I am next in line for Mayorship.’

‘
I know,’ Rowan replied quietly.

‘
Have you looked closely at this throne? My father designed it.
See this side, how it is decorated with angels? See these ophanim.
Aren’t they beautiful? Now look at this side…’

‘
They’re all demons!’ she said. How had she missed these
hideous-looking things, with all the time she had spent leaning
against them? She felt sickened.

‘
Devils all down this side, see? You know how the Lady wears
that gauntlet on one hand? It’s her right hand, on this side. And
the rings for the staff? This side as well. She sees battle as the
work of Erebis. That,’ Turenn sighed, ‘is why the people don’t
trust her to save them.’

‘
I don’t understand. Lady Firrok says she’d fight to the last
rather than run.’

‘
That’s why the people don’t have conviction in her. They think
she does Erebis’ work because she
wants
to, that she enjoys the
conflict and the death. It’s her self conflict that weakens
her.’

‘
Surely you don’t believe that.’

‘
Of course not,’ Turenn said, hanging his head. ‘But I fear
that the people may push me to usurp my mother if the attacks
continue. Rowan…’

‘
Yes?’

‘
I
will
be
Mayor,’ he said, ‘one way or another. I ask you to—’

‘
To what…?’

He clasped her
cheeks and kissed her between her closed, tear-rimmed eyes. ‘I want
you to stay with me.’

~

Dripping with blood without a wound, Caeles charged the
stolen white steed through the town, searching for more Luxer
stragglers that had been left behind after the retreat. He half
choked the beast as he wrenched the reins to turn when he wanted.
Violently he dug his heels deep into the horse’s sides, bent low
over its back, and whipped harder at the reins. He thundered past
some survivors of the fire and turned around.

‘
You!’ he bellowed. ‘Where’s Firrok?’

‘
She is tending the injured, by the inn,’ one of the burned
victims said. Caeles and the horse vanished almost
immediately.

The Water Wader was
overflowing with more refugees. Outside, a few
others, trained in rudimentary first-aid, were treating wounded men
and women. Sarai and Lady Firrok knealt amongst them, trying to
stem an open wound cut into the side of a young man.

‘
Don’t struggle!’ Firrok yelled. ‘Keep
still
, Morak, or suffer further
injury…’

Caeles forced
his way through the small crowd gathered outside the inn.
‘Firrok!’

‘
Caeles! Whose horse is that?’

‘
I took it from a Luxman. I need something from
you.’

‘
That’s a Luxer’s horse?’ Firrok yelled, both she and the
Scathac standing. ‘How dare you ride that through—’

‘
He ain’t needin’ it any more,’ Caeles said impatiently. ‘Lady
Firrok, I ask you to take me to the prisoner.’

‘
What prisoner?’

‘
One of the others said you captured a Luxman last time they
attacked, that he’s being held somewhere. Where is he? I need to
see him,
now
.’

‘
Do not make demands of me.’ The Mayor
strode
toward him, stepping over the wounded. The place was like a
battlefield. ‘Not now, or ever, Caeles!’

Caeles seemed
to visibly try to calm himself; his eyes closed, his chest heaved,
and he let out a deep sigh. ‘I am sorry, gracious Lady Firrok. I
implore you: let me speak to the prisoner.’

The Mayor sighed, and hers was much deeper. ‘All right. I
wish to have words myself. This way. And get off that
beast.’

‘
Please – just tell me where he’s being held. Every second
counts, lady.’

Just then,
Gabel appeared from around the side of a building, bloodied and
limping. He came up beside Caeles.

‘
Lady Firrok,’ he said, paying no attention to the man beside
him. ‘I wish to ask you an important favour…’

‘
You want to see the prisoner?’ the Mayor asked.

Gabel frowned.
‘Yes. How did you—’

‘
Your friend Caeles here just issued the same request.’ The
hunter looked up at Caeles, who towered above him from the back of
the horse. Firrok continued. ‘The prisoner is being held in the
cell inside the town hall. Ramek should be guarding. Tell him I
granted you permission.’

‘
Thank you,’ said Caeles, and the horse reared and turned, and
was gone down the street. Gabel pursued.

When the
hunter came to the town hall, the horse had been left to wander
outside. Rushing into the building, he heard raised voices.

‘
Did I not warn you all?’ It was the voice of Ramek, echoing
down the corridor. ‘Did we all not say this would
happen?’

Then came the voice of Caeles. It had considerably less
patience than when he had spoken with Firrok. ‘Let me past
now
, or this sword goes
through your side.’

‘
Caeles,’ Gabel murmured. The other man turned around,
brandishing the bloodstained wakizashi.

‘
Gabel. You wanna help me with this fuck, or am I taking him
out by myself?’

Ramek was raving. ‘You can’t go in! It’ll tear you to pieces.
It’s a monster, a demon…!’

‘
I have heard people speaking of the
Caballeros
like this, but never a
Luxman,’ Gabel muttered.

‘
So he’s crazy. Let’s just shut him up already.’

Both men
advanced on Ramek, who barely noticed in his panic. Two fists
connected with his skull, and he slumped down against the wall,
silenced. Gabel wrenched him away from the door.

‘
Come on, he should be in here.’

They opened the door and entered a small
room
. In the
knelt a hooded figure.

~

The robe and mask had dried bloodstains around the
eye-slits, mouth area and ribs. There was a gash where it looked as
if he had been stabbed. The room was poorly lit. In such lighting,
the figure
really did look demonic.