A tik-tik bird pecked at Fallon’s
ankle. Squatting in the brambles of the large bush, he stifled a startled cry.
The curved beak opened to make its characteristic caw. The sound would attract
the Glade soldiers who would want to capture the bird. It’s fruit diet made its
meat sweet and succulent, a treat to soldiers on a campaign.
He needed a diversion. He
grabbed the beak, being careful not to twist the neck. He scooped up the body
of the bird and launched it into the air. He heard the shout of the soldiers,
then the startled bird caught wing and flew toward the stream and soldiers.
Through the dense foliage of the bush, Fallon glimpsed two soldiers at the
trunk of a giant buda tree. They looked up. He guessed that the confused bird
sat on a branch in the canopy of the tree. One of them looked in his direction.
He reached for his knife. His hand felt the empty scabbard and he jerked his
head to look in disbelief. How had he not noticed? A swirl of wind rustled the
grass and chilled his skin. He scanned the nearby ground for a branch, a rock,
anything he could turn into a weapon.
/////////////////////////
A faint cheap drew Fallon’s
attention to the ground at his feet. He saw one chick peck at his boot, while
three others huddled in the bush roots. He picked two berries from the bush,
squeezed them and laid them on the ground. That would keep them quiet. The four
chicks squeaked as they swarmed around the berries. The mother was sure to
come back. He could only see the two soldiers. He couldn’t stay and he
couldn’t leave. He gambled on their distraction and snuck away from the bush.
The spring vegetation was soft and did not betray his movement as he slunk back
toward the tree where he had fallen.
With a wider angle of sight he saw
several soldiers. One dipped her hands in the shallow stream. Another brushed
aside the reeds along the stream. What were they looking for? He turned to look
at the two soldiers standing at the trunk of the tree. One soldier handed a
shoulder bag to his companion, then started to climb the trunk.
Fallon’s heart sunk. They were
gathering the energy that he had taken from the cliff cave. It must have fallen
from his shoulder bag when he fell off the Faerie Queen. His instinct to run
out of the cave had saved his life but given a big advantage to the enemy. His
fear had condemned his fellow warriors to death. He deserved to die as well. If
he found his knife he could take the woman warrior and the other who searched
the reeds. Perhaps a third soldier before the other soldiers took his
blood. He stayed hidden behind the wide tree trunk and studied the ground.
//////////////////////
Fallon slunk along the ground,
gambling that the tall reeds would hide his movement. He glanced toward the
woman in the stream, who was the closest. A shout and some talk that he didn’t
understand. The woman made a gesture with her arm to the others. Fallon heard
the chatter of the tik-tik bird’s beak as the three soldiers walked away
downstream. Leaving? No, the woman continued upstream toward Fallon, searching
the sloped ground on either side of the stream.
As Fallon waited for her to come
closer, he planned his attack. The short throwing axe at her waist indicated
her warrior skills. He would rush and block her arm as she reached for the axe.
She would expect him to use his greater weight to overwhelm her. Instead he would
come at her low, trap her legs and topple her before she could cry out to the
others. With the wind knocked out of her, he could finish her. He was not
practiced with a throwing axe but he could do great damage in close quarters
with the other soldiers. He crouched as she neared the tree.
//////////////////////
She was turned slightly away when
Fallon launched his attack. She turned toward him as he erupted out of the
reeds. He saw her instinctively reach for her axe. Arms stretched, he lunged
toward her. His right arm grazed her buttocks and he went headlong into the
cobble that lined the stream bank. Baffled, he scrambled to his feet. She had
disappeared.
A sound above drew his attention.
She had pulled herself up on the same branch he had shimmied down earlier. How
had she jumped that quickly? She was Fae! The reeds has disguised her motion as
she walked along the stream. She crouched on the thick branch, her weight
poised on her toes. She reached for the throwing axe at her waist. From this
short distance, she would cleave his chest in half.
/////////////////////////
Fallon cast a hurried glance around
him. No protection. She drew her arm back to send the killing shot. He ran
toward the trunk of the buda tree, putting the branch between himself and the Fae.
She snarled at him, then cupped her hand near her mouth and shrieked the call
of an Alsace fledgling in mortal danger. Trickery! He had escaped those flesh
tearing talons once that day.
The rustle of the leaves above
signaled the descent of the predator bird through the canopy. Fallon flapped
his arms and limped away from the tree as though wounded. He hoped he wasn’t so
convincing that the bird would try to pick him up. He stumbled in the brush and
fell to his knees. He heard the wings of the Alsace bird as it braked in the
air above him. His muscles convulsed when the hot knives of the talons seized
his upper back. He screamed out in rage and pain and the talons released.
As he fell forward to the ground,
his arms were trapped behind his back. His jaw hit the ground but he recovered
his wits and turned on his side to battle the bird. It rose in the air away
from him. Through clouded vision he saw the Fae woman lean over him, then spit
in his face. Next came a thud on his head and restful sleep.
Fallon awoke once when they
lashed his wrists to a pole. His head dangled as they lifted him up. The
evening sun was low in the sky. He tried to look to his side as they
carried him forward on the pole.
When he awoke, his lips and head
hurt. A hand lifted his head, rubbed some ointment on his cracked lips then
placed a cup to his lips. His dry throat ached as he drew the liquid into his
mouth. The liquid was soothing but the effort was exhausting. The same hand
placed a soft paper between his lips and he instinctively sucked at the
anchloss leaf. The slight numbing of his tongue was pleasant and he felt saliva
in his mouth. A cup to his lips again. The pain at the top of his head ebbed.
Had his mother returned from the world of the dead to tend his wounds? He
smiled and slept.
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