by RR Turock
Chapter 3: Mistake
Father had already fallen asleep at noon and rested soundly even through the evening. Which left the crew mumbling among one another in worry. I tried to concentrate on creating the performance but my eyes kept scanning the horizon for raiders. None appeared.
More concerning, Malec had glanced my way several times already but didn’t say anything. The uneasiness had resettled in my chest, leaving me anxious and irritable. Or perhaps the lack of sleep made me paranoid.
Malec glanced in my direction again. This time I didn’t contain myself, hissing under my breath so not to wake Father. “What is it, Malec?”
He cleared his voice and whispered back in his harsh, gruff voice, which ruined the meaning of a whisper. “I’ve been thinkin’.”
I jeered in my annoyance. “Oh, no, you have me scared already.”
Malec growled at my joke, his face tense. “I’m serious, Missy. I think the raiders are Deion’s men.”
My eyes narrowed. I had the same thought. “The Prime Minister’s men? What makes you say that?”
He crossed his arms. “This is like what he did to chase ya pa out of Karrazard in the first place. Ya know.” More quietly, he noted. “Like what he dun to ya ma.”
I cringed. “What’s he after?”
Malec swapped me over the head. “What do ya think? If ya pa don’t show up to the Feast of Harmony, he’s gonna be king. That’s why he tricked the King to exile ya pa in the first place. He’ll do anythin’ to get that crown.”
I bit my lip in frustration. “What’s so great about being a king anyway?”
Malec shrugged. “What’s so great about being a servant?”
I heaved out a breath. “God’s on a servant’s side. If you take the crown in a bad way, he’ll strike him down.”
Malec smiled. “At least ya got somethin’ right, Missy.”
Father mumbled in his sleep, grasping the pipe tightly. “Ballad to the moon….”
Silence fell between us. Although the sound of a howl was almost heartbreaking when I first heard it, joined by others, it was beautiful. It sounded like the Piper’s Song. And when I saw them, the wolves looked so happy singing their song. A song Father would give his heir to sing before the King. A song he shared with me. A song we both protected.
Although I would never tell Father, I wanted to share the song with everyone. If everyone knew the song, we could sing it together on the Feast of Harmony. Everyone could play their array of instruments, and the children could dance as I did when I first heard it. Just like the wolves. Just like a family.
A sound less pleasant resounded in my ear, fear pressing in me. The raiders were back. No, Deion’s men were back, charging full speed on their horses. The crew braced their weapons, but the performers were nothing against trained soldiers. The caravan scattered again, leaving us few to face the numerous pack of attackers.
Father was awake, sliding off the stretcher. He stood in front of me as Malec tossed him his sword. One handily, Father braced for an attack as the raiders closed in.
I scoffed. “It’s time I change.” More determined this time, I moved around Father, striking first. With ease, I stepped around the fighter’s attacks, slicing up his clothes. My blades ineffectively scratched at the armor under his clothes.
I could have sworn the raider smirked under his mask before he initiated round two between us. Watching his movements carefully, I parried his every attack. I made rough estimates at where there would be breaks in his armor. Adrenaline pumped in my veins, making me realize just how sweaty and warm I felt.
That pause was all that was necessary to open me up and the raider wasted no time. Father slipped in between us, paring of the attacker's blade with his own. Spinning around, Father went for a head shot with the hilt of his sword.
My mind registered the movement with horror. A mistake. A terrible mistake. The merciful blow to the head had open up Father and a second attacker gouged him. My legs wouldn’t move fast enough time moved to slow for me to do anything except catch Father as he fell.
The pipe flew from his hand and crashed among the raiders. Without hesitation, they retrieved their prize, mounting the ready steeds. Slicing emptily at them, Malec swung threateningly as they vanished into the night.
