The Unforgiven

by A. Katie Rose

  “I’ve recruited the others, bucket-brain,” Padraig snapped, furious. “Alain, Dusan, and Grey Mist have already agreed. And I know Kasi and Valcan will join us, right, Kasi?”

  “Then she’ll be executed alongside you, Padraig.”

  Kasi’s beak dropped. “I don’t think –”

  “Get out of here, Moon.”

  Flipping him the sign inviting him to perform a certain impossible act upon himself, I turned my back on him. Crouching low, I spread my wings and launched myself skyward. Winging toward the stars, I let the cool night breeze caress my feathers, my talons tucked beneath my lion shoulders. Scooping air into my beak, I filled my lungs and sought to release the dull rage Padraig’s plot rose within me.

  I knew he’d dare. I knew damn well he’d recruit the youngsters, the kids with the grievances, the younger members from the Academy. I knew full well he’d brain-wash them, make them believe I murdered my own soldiers. The only question was why. Indeed, Padraig and I vied for the position at Malik’s right hand. I knew I’d never set him up to fall, and I expected that his noble and honorable blood stayed his jealous and dishonorable inclinations.

  I sighed. Despite myself, I enjoyed the cool night air, the stars, the thrill of flying. Coasting along on a colossal wingspan and warm thermals, I dove toward the earth, only to swoop upward again, my wings beating strong. Moonlight shone down on me, huge over the mountains, forcing the stars into subservience. Griffins were the ultimate predator, the creature birthed from the gods’ melding the lion with the eagle. They possessed the instincts and abilities of both creatures, one of the most talented creatures ever created. I could live life as a Griffin, I thought, my rage subsiding and my humor rising. Pity Sky Dancer hated me now.

  The ground dropped away from me as I winged higher and higher, striving for the moon. Its light rippled across my wings, the occasional cloud wisping past beneath my talons. The air’s temperature dropped significantly the higher I climbed, but my lion’s fur scarcely felt the chill. Only when the air thinned so much my brain refused coherent thought and my lungs ached did I at last wheel to the right and bank steeply earthwards.

  I soared over the black landscape. Skimming over low-lying hills, dodging the occasional tall tree, only the steady moonlight illuminated the startled deer who fled in blind panic from my passage. A bear roared at me from a thicket as I buzzed past her muzzle, her cubs tumbling in infant play at her paws. A wolf paused and lifted its muzzle toward me as I blew toward it, flying faster than thought. I sensed its curiosity as I left it far behind, sniffing the taut breeze my wake created.

  Duty calls, I thought, after flying for an hour or so. Far below me, the forest sloped into a broad field with the twinkling lights of a village resting near the river. I didn’t know the name of the village, but I knew I’d flown further than I intended. Time to go back, I reckoned.

  Moon Whisperer had winged out on a scouting mission, one of his own making, at sunset. He liked flying on his own, seeking potential threats to the mission. As he hadn’t drawn any watches that night, he was free to do so. I also knew he’d never agree to Padraig’s little plan, thus I felt free to take his place. After my last insult, Padraig would bite off his own tongue before seeking him out. Moon might wonder why Padraig refused to include him on his little soirees, but as Moon never much liked Padraig anyway, I felt reasonably safe from either of them discovering I sat there and Moon didn’t.

  High overhead, I circled the camp. My eagle’s vision informed me Padraig’s party broke up hours earlier. The night watches stood at their posts, and Iyumi had lain down in her pallet with a light blanket drawn up to her chin. If she slept, I couldn’t tell. Malik still stood by the fire, his arms crossed over his chest, his head tilted back. He knew I was up there, for he sensed my presence on the light breeze. His dark eyes watched for me, expectant. Best not make him wait, I thought. He’ll never sleep until I report.

  Mid-flight, I changed forms.

  From Griffin to tiny sparrow, I shifted birds.

  Down I spiraled, winging over the treetops, avoiding the sharp eyes of the watch, who’d wonder at a sparrow flying by night. An owl-shape might serve me better, but I wanted to remain small and unobserved. Owls, though silent hunters, were too big to pass unnoticed by those standing watch. A bird no bigger than a human fist might evade their swift eyes and quick observation. Suspicious by nature and training, an adept Atan on watch made copious notes of anything that walked, trundled, crawled, trotted, flew, swam, slithered or otherwise strolled past their collective yet determined mind-set.

  Nothing dared pass their stiff vigil, I heard Alain say to Valcan, as I flitted beneath their collective radar.

  Their eyes missing me by yards, I ducked amid the heavy forest of pine, Cruising amid the tree branches, hidden from sight, I swung first left then right, dodging trees and their clinging branches and vines. No Atan born could keep me in his sight if I wanted to remain unseen.

  Dropping at last to my pallet beside the fire, I changed into myself. As though I’d been there all along, I yawned and rubbed my face wearily. I half-glanced over my shoulder at the watch, satisfied with their alert stances and faces turned outward. They had no clue I just buzzed under their noses. Padraig nor his cronies never noticed I hadn’t been there all along. I eyed them sidelong, only to find most slept and Padraig himself dozed on his feet, his left rear hoof cocked and resting.

  “Learn anything useful?” Malik asked.

  I eyed him sidelong, and yawned a genuine yawn. “I’m to have a convenient accident.”

  He stiffened in outrage, his mouth opening. His hand fondled his sword hilt as his heavy black tail lashed.

  “Sshhht!” I hissed. “They know you know and I’m dead that much sooner. Calm down, dammit.”

  He obeyed me, and relaxed both visibly and emotionally. “Padraig?” he asked simply.

  “With Edryd, Gaear, and others.”

  “Not Windy and Moon?”

  I smiled. “Nope. Nor Aderyn or Edara. Probably not Kasi, but she’s young and easily persuaded. But all the rest –”

  “I can’t have my unit plotting the assassination of my second-in-command,” Malik complained, running his hand through his thick locks. “There’s too much at stake here.”

  “Gee, thanks.”

  “You know what I mean, dammit.”

  A wail suddenly drifted on the night breeze, a cry of such longing and grief, my heart quailed in my chest. Never before had I heard such, a terrible sound – as though the root of all nightmares walked the night. As though a vanquished soul flew upon the darkness, seeking solace and finding none. Tears started in my eyes before the cry wavered on the wind and drifted into nothingness.

  Iyumi rolled from her pallet, a knife in her hand and tears glistening on her cheeks. “Gods,” she cried. “Gods, no, please no –”

  Malik also stiffened before the sound died away, his head up and his sword in his hand. “No,” he muttered, his head turning this way and that. “They didn’t, please say they didn’t, it’s a mistake –”

  Only I had no idea what that sound meant. The others in camp hadn’t even heard it. Padraig still slept, the watch kept their alert stance, the sleepers never stirred. Only the three of us caught its dying cry, its lonely wail, and only two of us understood its significance.

  “What the bloody hell was that?” I asked, my sword in my hand, on my feet, prepared to fight.

  “The sacrifice,” Iyumi half-sobbed, on her knees, holding her arms over her chest. Her knife dropped to her pallet as her chin slid downward, her silver hair draping her from head to blanket. “They murdered an innocent. Ah, gods! How can you permit this sin?”

  She broke into full sobs, threatening to rouse the entire camp. By some gut instinct, I knew this must remain among the three of us. No one else must know.

  I, not Malik, went to her. Unable to withstand feminine tears for long, I held her close and let her cry on my shoulder. “It’s all good, lady,” I mur
mured, sheltering her within my arms. “Easy, lass. I’m here. Malik is here, we’ll keep you safe, I promise.”

  Though my words were nonsense, Iyumi seemed comforted, somehow. She clung to me like one drowning, nestling into my shoulder as though belonging there. Her arms wrapped about my waist and tightened until my ribs creaked in protest. Her incredible wealth of hair covered my face, its scent threatening me with a sneeze. Yet, I felt drawn to her, wanting nothing less than to hold her for the next year. Or three – whichever came first.

  Only Malik’s soft voice broke us apart. “Princess. What did you sense?”

  Iyumi lifted her pale and wan face from my shoulder. “A child,” she murmured, her skin waxy pale. “Sacrificed on the demon’s altar. That someone, whoever he is, now has the full power of evil at his fingertips.”

  “The Red Duchess?” Malik asked.

  She wiped her streaming eyes, and drew in a ragged breath. Half-nodding to me, she withdrew from my arms and stood up. Cocking her head to her left, her tongue tickled her lips, she pondered Malik’s question with a seriousness that puzzled me. How did such a nasty, obnoxious bitch suddenly become as beautiful as a spring rose? Why did I suddenly want to kiss those slender, moist lips? Because you’re an idiot, I reasoned, clamping down on my impetuous urge. I always had a weakness for feminine tears. Brought me no end of trouble, too.

  “Perhaps,” she admitted slowly, her arms crossed. “But I can’t be certain. The gods are – upset.”

  “If not the Duchess, then who?” Malik asked. “Who else is involved here?”

  “No matter, Commander,” Iyumi said softly. She turned her face away. “It’s over now.”

  Iyumi suddenly stiffened as she realized I yet stood within her personal airspace. Her eyes sparked as her fine lips thinned. She sniffed, a delicate frown creasing her pale brow. She was the Princess and I was the lout she so often called me. She didn’t speak, but I recognized an order when I saw one. Bugger off.

  Swinging my arms wide, I half-grinned and bowed low. “Princess.”

  “Captain.”

  After a swift scowl toward Malik, as though venting her fury that he’d dare bring me along, she turned her slender shoulders and walked slowly away. She lay down on her pallet beside the dying fire, and drew her blanket across her shoulder, her back to us. Within moments, her breathing deepened, slowed, her body lax and silent. As though she slept the sleep of the utterly weary.

  That performance should earn her several top honors, I thought. I sighed, scratched the back of my neck and met Malik’s amused dark glance. She didn’t fool either of us – she lay as wakeful as we. Had she a sign on her back saying ‘leave me alone’, she couldn’t have been more clear in her command. An order we both obeyed.

  Malik shrugged, and stalked a short distance from the fire to stand, watching the stars. He didn’t sleep much, either. He never did, when enemies prowled about. Half-mocking, half-sincere, I saluted Iyumi’s back, fist to heart, my chin dropped. I left her alone. Where she wanted to be.

  That didn’t stop me from standing vigil over her, however.

  I didn’t take a single drink.

  Dawn’s early light brought not just the new day but Sky Dancer with bad news.

  “My Lord Captain,” she said, saluting, her newly fletched wings furled over her neat lion shoulders. Her trim tail coiled about her feet, the emblem of her rank, the snarling lion’s head of a First Lieutenant, worn on a chain about her neck. “I have word from the King.”

  “Have you passed your medical, Lieutenant?” Malik asked, his arms behind his back, as usual. He frowned at her, disapproval etched across his dark features. I fought back a yawn, as I hadn’t slept a wink. Neither did Iyumi, although she concealed it better than I.

  Aderyn acted as Iyumi’s maid and assisted her to wash and dress, currently busy braiding Iyumi’s thick silver fall. I stood at Malik’s right hand, at parade rest. Interestingly enough, Padraig found occupation in saddling and bridling the blue roan stallion. He never glanced toward me once, and found the most menial of tasks to perform. Edryd laughed and joked with Alain as they tended their own mounts. Behind Malik and I, Windy preened his wings, grooming his feathers until I thought they’d surely fall out from overuse. Moon more carefully tended his own, all the while eyeing Windy sidelong. I suspected words had passed between the two.

  Prepared for this question, Sky Dancer held out a folded parchment to her commanding officer. “Healer Irridi’s own recommendation, my Lord Captain.”

  Malik took it, pretended to peruse it before tucking it into his belt. “What is His Majesty’s message?”

  “Lieutenant Cian has escaped custody, my Lord Captain.”

  My jaw snapped shut on another yawn, and I bit my tongue. But Malik failed to rein in his own. He fair blistered the air with his curses. His choice of language brought Iyumi running, her hair falling from the braid Aderyn half-started. “Commander?”

  Sucking in his anger, Malik bowed his head. “Forgive me, Your Highness,” he said, his tone stiff. “We have a problem.”

  Iyumi’s humor hadn’t improved much. “So I gathered, Commander,” she snapped, her hands on her leather-clad hips. “Care to share?”

  Obviously not liking her tone, Malik swallowed his ire and moderated his voice. “Lieutenant Cian has been arrested for attempted murder on First Captain Vanyar, and grievously endangering the life of Lieutenant Sky Dancer,” he said. “He’s now escaped.”

  Iyumi stared from me to Sky Dancer and back again. The epithet that spewed from her mouth brought a flush to my cheeks. “He’s going to try again,” she bit out, her words stone cold. “He’s coming here.”

  “There’s no evidence –”

  “Shut up, Commander.”

  As Malik shut his jaw tight, I caught a self-satisfied glance from Padraig. He continued his chore after that one lightning flash toward me, and Edryd nodded sharply at the news. Circling high above, on watch, Grey Mist glared down at me, while Edara stalked to my back, her hand on her sword hilt. A camp divided, I thought. Fully half hated me and wanted me dead, skinned and roasted. The other half planned to defend me to their last drop of blood. Not good. Not when we just started this expedition. Iyumi and the child are the most important. My life mattered nothing compared to that.

  Iyumi’s voice rose several decibels. “Wasn’t that idiot manacled?” she screeched. “How did he escape?”

  “Yes, Your Highness,” Malik answered calmly. “I arrested him myself.”

  “There’s evidence he had outside aid, Your Highness,” Sky Dancer said, her tone neutral. “The King has ordered a full investigation and has troops on his trail. He will be captured, along with those who helped him, and soon.”

  “He’d better,” Iyumi snapped. “I need everyone here alive if I’m to recover that child. Rampaging lunatics I can do without.”

  She stalked back to her rock seat, my cousin in her wake. She sat with a snort, her arms crossed over her chest. Aderyn resumed the difficult task of braiding that silver mass into a thick, serviceable braid. Though her back remained stiffly toward us, her crossed legs and folded arms informed me Iyumi, like a petulant child, planned to have it all her own way. I wondered if Cian got the message, too.

  “Thank you, Lieutenant,” Malik said, nodding his heavy head. “You’re dismissed. Return to His Majesty.”

  He turned away, half toward me, his mouth parted to speak. Sky Dancer’s half cry of entreaty and half choked request halted him, mid-turn. “I wish to stay, my Lord Captain,” she said, her voice anguished, formal. “His Majesty does not require my services and I’ve an obligation here. Sir.”

  Malik turned back, in surprise. No one, except me on occasion, ever questioned his orders or his authority. The surprise at her audacity confused him for a moment. His blank expression brought me no small amusement before he rediscovered he was in charge. Or thought he was. Malik’s abrupt order for her to return home reached as far as his eyes and his mouth, and no further.
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  “Sky Dancer stays, Commander.”

  The Princess’s stern voice, her back still turned, offered Malik no choice. She Who Hears had spoken. Mess with her meant messing with the gods and goddesses she represented. That and her royal authority – well, let’s just say no one who lived dared gainsay her. Malik may dislike her, but his collective genes stood at attention and saluted.

  He eyed Sky Dancer with disapproval, yet with no apparent annoyance that he’d been overruled.

  “Very well, Lieutenant,” he said heavily, his hands on his broad equine shoulders. “On this mission, you’ll serve directly under First Captain Vanyar. You’ll remain at his side, acting as his right hand, his messenger and his bitch. That understood?”

  Sky Dancer dipped her beak to her chest, her taloned fist clenched against her snarling lion. “Clearly, my Lord Captain.”

  I scratched my brow to conceal my amazement as Malik effectively ordered her my bodyguard. Under Padraig’s hooked nose, he cut me off from the plots of Padraig and his fellow conspirators. They’d hardly harm one such as she in order to kill me. Honor might stretch enough to convict me with no evidence. Yet, kill Sky Dancer, too? Heavens forefend. They’d never condone the killing of a fellow Atani just to appease their blood vengeance against me. Their honor forbade the slaying of not just innocents, but of their brothers and sisters in arms. Where I go, Sky Dancer followed. Should I eat, she held my cup. When I shit, she saluted. And should Padraig’s enmity follow me, her sharp talons and wicked beak stood between us.

  I eyed his stiff back and lazily swishing tail, noting he alone among the camp failed to express shock, offer opinions, raise questions or eye me sidelong with speculation at the news of Cian. He and Edryd alone showed no surprise. Did they engineer Cian’s escape before we departed on our errand to fetch Iyumi? Did Padraig’s arm reach that long? I pondered how long I’d live with Sky Dancer guarding my back. Twenty four hours? Less?

  She never glanced my way. If she hated her direct orders, her calm raptor eyes and shut beak revealed nothing. Lion-like, she stalked with eagle’s head up to stand behind my right shoulder, ready, able and prepared. Her black-tipped tail remained quiescent, and confused me further. She should hate this assignment as much as she hated me. What goes on here? Did she plot her own vengeance?