Ravenwood (40 page)

“Oh, if you think that night was long, witch, you just wait until tonight. Oh, yes. Just wait.” He loomed out of the shadows then, his eyes glittering oddly, and he stuffed the wad back into her mouth, practically gagging her with it as he stuffed it deep. “You ruined me. And I’m going to ruin you. See if I don’t.” His eyes dodged back and forth looking at things she didn’t see. As he crouched there in the shadows, the pale morning light showed her that he was totally mad. Enough of her wit returned to make her very afraid.

She heard a raven caw three times–a territorial warning–but she couldn’t tell what direction, or even how far away. She hoped Thomas would be able to pick up the track.

A familiar pounding sound came from outside. It carried the jingle of harness with it and she recognized the sound of one of the King’s Own messengers galloping along the Pike. The muffled sounds came from some distance, but that she heard it at all told her the road ran near her cave.

Somewhere close a horse wickered and Josh’s head snapped at the sound. He half crawled, half walked around her, and disappeared. She felt rather than heard the stamp of a horse’s hoof. She thought she heard a low voice but when she held her breath to listen it was gone.

Her shifting in the night had loosened the bindings a little and she shifted again, trying to get some circulation back in her hips. The stick dug into her leg again and she couldn’t imagine what in the world he’d managed to bind up with her. She slithered her arms down from where they were crossed above her chest which released some of the pressure on her lungs and she was able to get a breath, even around the obstructions in her mouth and nose. She worked her hand down to her thigh to push the stick away.

She shifted her weight back and forth again to get some more room in the tightly wound blanket. As she did her hand finally found the object that had been digging into her. Her fingers wrapped around the hilt of her belt knife.

He would be back soon. The gray light of dawn brightened and it looked for all the world like she lay in a very low ceilinged cave. There was something odd about it but she couldn’t quite place it. It would come to her. She released the hilt of her knife, repositioning it so that it lay more comfortably along her leg and left her fingers resting on the cross guard. She just needed to rest and to think. The damp cold of the ground was beginning to leach away her body heat as it soaked the blankets under her. She closed her eye and offered a silent prayer. “Guardian of the North, Bone of the Earth, loan me your strength that I may survive.” Exhaustion and cold conspired to push her back down into the darkness.

She crooned to the morning from her hiding place in the tall
pine. The meat smell had not come back but she watched the
man with the bow. He killed rabbits and grouse and sometimes
left the entrails where she could find them. Maybe he’d find a
rabbit. Maybe she could find the meat smell. She had seen him
moving out of the house with rabbits. He came out the back
door and watched the ground and entered the forest which
interested her. He was on the trail of something. Perhaps it was
the meat. The track turned and he went out into the wide
path and stood there in the middle of the packed surface. He
looked up and down the path and she sidled sideways along the
limb to watch him around the tree. Perhaps there would be
grouse.

No, she needed to find something. The woman with the food
would feed her, but where was she?

The man in the path turned away from the village and walked
quickly along, she watched his head turning back and forth, back and
forth as he searched for something. She needed to find something,
too. The sun was coming up and maybe the meat smell would come
back.

She dropped off the limb and sailed quietly through the forest
fetching up on limbs now and again to see if he’d kill a rabbit. The
apple tree was here and she stopped to peck at some of the half frozen
apples on the ground. Food, but not as good as meat. She could hear
the man walking away along the path. She ate a few more apples but
needed water.

Her strong legs pushed her into the air and three heavy beats of
her wing gave her speed enough to glide between the tree trunks. She
gained a bit of altitude and came to the large fallen tree that had the
tasty rose hips. She scented man and she flared away. His horse
flickered an ear as she passed over and stamped his heavy hoof. She
fetched up on a branch and looked. A horse meant grain sometimes
and grain was tasty.

She eyed the horse but didn’t see the man. She smelled him
and he smelled like meat but she couldn’t see him. His scent
rode the morning air but try as she might she couldn’t see
him. That made her uneasy. A man she couldn’t see was not a
good thing. She launched again and winged to the pond for
water.

Tanyth woke with a start and knew where she was and why the cave looked odd. She was under the tree. She couldn’t believe she was so close to the village and yet, unless they found her soon, it wouldn’t matter. She could feel herself fading. Too much was broken and she was cold, even in her blanket, so cold. She wondered where Josh had gone and turned her head to find his mad eyes inches from hers.

“Are you awake now, witch? They’ll never find you, you know? Oh, no.” He chortled and drooled a little. He lifted his hand and she flinched but he laughed and bit into the apple he held in it.

He smiled at her and the effect should have terrified her but her fingers caressed the knife under her hand. He’d have to untie her if he planned to do much of anything besides beat her about the face. When he did, she’d be ready.

He saw the change in her face. He stared at her. “No, you’re not going to die yet. No.” His denial came out low and insistent. “Oh, no. Not after you ruined me. I have to ruin you before you can die. You’ll be glad to die when I’m done with you, but not yet. No.”

His eyes scanned her face and she smiled. She started to shiver but her muscles lacked the strength. In her mind she formed another prayer. “Guardian of the East, Breath of the Earth, loan me your quickness that I may survive until I can once more breathe the gentle air of spring.” The prayer gave her strength but his punch to the side of her head overwhelmed her, and she fell into unconsciousness once more.

She poked her bill into the thin ice and got her drink. She needed
to help. She needed to do something. She launched. Up, up, she flew
and arrowed between the trunks. There would be meat in the end and
she would feast but first she needed to find the man with the hat, the
man she’d seen before. She needed to find him, the man in the
snow.

She broke into the village clearing and cawed her frustration.
Nobody stirred. Not a man, not a child. She wheeled in the sky and
looked down but nothing moved. She flew through the woods, fast
between the trunks and over the brush. The horse stood there beside
the tree and she smelled the meat and smoke. She smelled the man
and the woman who fed her, too. She picked the faint scent out of
the background smells as she skimmed along the length of the fallen
tree. She smelled the people and she smelled the meat and she
smelled the blood. Her call echoed through the forest and she
banked sharply to fly back to the village to find the man with the
hat.

The cold, hard ground beneath her battered face pulled Tanyth back to consciousness. The now sodden blankets leached more of her body heat away. “Guardian of the South, Fire of the Earth, warm me against the chill of winter. Fill my heart with fire.” The prayer echoed through her brain even before she tried to open her eyes. He was still there. She could hear him, smell him.

“It’s almost time, witch.” He giggled. “What part do you want to lose? Eh? Shall I cut off your tits?” He spit on her. “You’re too old already for men to look at you but you’ll see. You’ll know, won’t you, witch?”

She looked at him, unable to muster enough strength to hate him, saving her energy against the cold, saving her strength. When he unwrapped her, she’d be ready.

He pulled back his fist and took aim at her bruised face and she flinched but he drove it into her gut, forcing the wind from her lungs and driving her back into unconsciousness as he laughed. “Surprised you with that one, didn’t I?” She heard him even as she fell.

Her wings bit the cold air and she streaked upwards to clear the
trees. She needed speed and speed meant open sky. She went up and
then rolled at the treetops to drive for the buildings. As she came
over the last line of trees, she saw a man walking to the big building
with no walls but the wrong man. He didn’t look up even as her
caw split the morning sky. She flew beyond and over to the
building with horses. Yes, she found grain sometimes but the man
with the hat cared for the horses. Perhaps she could find him
there.

Big doors blocked the way so she couldn’t see in. She screamed
her rage. The woman needed help. She banked hard and streaked back
through the treetops to the village and saw only the man who
wouldn’t look up. Her lungs burned and her wings ached from the
extended flight. She perched on the top of the house that sometimes
had rabbits. The house had no rabbit, and the woman who
fed her hid under a fallen tree and the meat hid there with
her.

She cawed and cawed again. Her anger and her hunger drove her.
Something else drove her, too, and she cawed some more. She paced
up and down the ridge of the roof and heard a sound under her
talons–sound from inside the house that sometimes had rabbits. The
door opened and the man came out. The right man. The man she’d
seen before in the snow. He wasn’t wearing a hat but it was the man
and she cawed.

He made the sound. The sound all the men made before, but he
didn’t shout it.

She launched for the woods, darting between the boles, heading
for the tree with the rose hips. The tree where the horse stood. The
tree with the meat under it. The tree where the woman who
sometimes fed her lay dying.

The cold dirt against her face brought her back once more and she struggled to push herself upright. She didn’t really want to sit up, but she was laying on her knife arm and she needed to free that arm before she lost feeling in it, before she lost any more strength. She lacked the strength to pull herself up without using her hand to push and so just rocked slightly.

She panted against the dirt. “Guardian of the West, Blood of the Earth, give me the strength of the river to wash over the pain.”

He grabbed her shoulder and rolled her over, slamming her head against the packed earth of the floor. His dagger glittered in the faint light of morning and it flashed down at her but only cut the cords holding the blankets tight around her.

“I think it’s time.” He giggled and a line of spittle drooled off his lip. “Let’s see what part you want to lose.” He poised the tip of his dagger over her one clear eye. “Maybe I’ll just take an eye to start.” He grabbed her nose with his free hand and gave it a wrench, breaking the clots, and opening the passages to air again. “Maybe the nose? Eh? If I take your nose, how will you smell, old woman? Eh?” He paused, the cold steel glittering over her right nostril. “Just as bad as ever!” He chortled at his own, old, joke.

From outside the calling of a raven echoed through the wood and the man’s head jerked around. He froze for a moment and the caw repeated, becoming more insistent. He cursed and released her nose. “Cursed bird!” He spat on the ground and turned back to Tanyth. “Don’t go away, little mother. We’ve got business yet!” His boot lashed out, clipping her on the jaw and her head rang from the blow as she slipped away once more.

T
he man ran behind her. He wore no hat but he shouted
something after her. She didn’t stop but kept going. She shouted back
to him her calls bouncing from the tree trunks as she flew. In
moments she was back at the tree and fetched up on a limb. The
meat was there. She could smell it now. She called again. The man’s
shouts were faint in the distance but getting louder. He made the
sound again, the sound they’d all made.

She called several times and the horse rolled his eyes and swished
his tail but he looked bad, too. Maybe the horse would be meat
soon and she’d feast, but first the woman needed help, so she
cawed.

The shouts got closer and the meat crawled out from a hole
under the tree. He waved his arms at her. He made whooshing
sounds at her and picked up a stick to throw at her. She dropped off
the limb and dodged the stick and circled around. He picked up
another stick and waved it at her. She cawed loudly and stooped. Her
talons raked his face and he dropped his stick, clutching the bleeding
wounds. The meat smell maddened her and his hot blood warmed her
toes. She flapped around and came in again, cawing and striking
with her wings, she slashed with her talons once more and his flailing
arm swatted her roughly. She screamed and grabbed his face with
both feet, holding on and pecking at his face, his head, his
hair. His heavy hands struck at her but she bit his fingers
and drew strips of flesh from his hands. His screams were as
loud as hers but he pounded her and she had to let go. She
released him and one last clumsy strike of his arm tossed her
heavily against the bole of a tree, stunning her. She fell to the
ground.