Lupus Rex (9 page)

A light of interest appeared in Banka’s eye. “What would you offer that I may not demand?” he said, blood beginning to dry on his beak.

Cotur Ada looked to Incanta for some support. She granted none but kept her silence.

“What I offer you is a season’s eggs in exchange for the lives of these chicks and the elder. Not only that, but I offer you my blood also.”

Banka’s eyes grew wide, a new hunger mingling with bloodlust. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I do believe we can make this trade.”

From their hiding place in the brush, Ysil and Monroth heard these words. They heard, and the vast fear that had been clouding their breath consumed them even more.

They listened as Cotur Ada told Banka where to find the eggs, the hidden precious nests. But his words were vague, and Banka, so sure of himself, did not question. Ysil wondered if the crow could find the nests even if Cotur Ada told him the exact location. And so it was that Banka did prove his ignorance, for this time of year, there were no eggs in the nests at all.

The cawing sounds of battle continued to dissipate. Then, from far away, he heard the cawing crows on approach. Ysil knew that voice. The General was returning.

H
IGH ABOVE THE
field, a vee of geese soared. The leader had flown this particular route all his life and was nearing his turn to move back to the rear of the vee. He knew it would be dark before his turn would come again at lead, and surely he would also begin the next morning behind. He was looking for a place to land and take rest and find food before his turn was past, as he knew that the next in line was young and might choose a lesser option. Geese do not follow any but the leader, and, likewise, the leader of any vee would change many times during the day. None behind ever questioned the leader. He knew they were nearing a field where a murder of crows resided and many animals about it. He also knew that the man who farmed the field would have likely reaped by now and that there should be grain for the taking. He saw the field below and began to descend.

As it came closer into sight, the bird gasped and honked. Scattered about the field were many dead forms of sizable black birds. There had been a great battle here. He counted some nine dead and a good few writhing in pain. The geese flew low enough to smell the blood of battle, so even though they also smelled fresh grain, they veered away from the field and took off in pursuit of the heights. And as they flew upward, a small dove flew to the leader of the flock and came close to his ear. The dove whispered of much that had befallen the field and those who dwelled within it. Then the dove banked away, staying high above the chaos below.

The leader goose decided that resting in this particular area was ill-thought. They would fly as far away to the south as they could while the time in lead was his.

The geese soared higher, passing the news from one to another. Three dark birds passed far beneath, flying just above the treetops.

F
RAGIT LANDED IN
the field at a high speed, barely slowing when he touched ground and continuing his run straight to the side of Nascus and Ophrei. Fragit’s third in command, a huge bird with dark and vicious eyes and a long cut across his chest, landed as Fragit did and approached the bequeathed and the rook. Fragit was covered in blood from tip of beak to filthy feet.

“Many of the traitors turned and faced our attack when we were scarce out of earshot. If not for the strength of my band, I surely would have been overtaken.” Much of the blood on Fragit was from the traitor crows, but not all. “Some six of the traitors are yet to be accounted for, as I see four dead on this field. We killed four within the forest, but oh, ours is the greater loss! Five of my guard lay dead within the woods and five dead here. Only the three of us remain. But shame! Banka is not accounted for at all! I was hoping to see him here.” He turned to Nascus. “Prince, these are dire times. You and your own must now join ranks with us.” The prince nodded. “Some of us must guard the field and, first, you, my prince, while I must away with a number to seek your turncoat brother.”

Fragit stood tall and scanned the field. “Order to all! Order to all! Reform circle!”

It took a few minutes as the wounded rose and spread out, but when all those able to stand were back in circle, it was clear the impact of the treacherous revolt. All counted, there were ten of the guard dead, two crows from the general army and eight traitors. Twenty from a murder of fifty-nine. With the six conspirators escaped, only thirty crows gathered in a vague circle.

“Traitorous quail!” called Ophrei, pointing to the woods. “All this blood, and still we are forced to spill more!”

All eyes turned to follow the rook’s gaze. Staggering out of the brush was Cotur Ada, the eldest of the quail, with Banka of the guard close behind. He walked purposefully and upright toward Ophrei, a clear conviction branded in his eyes. He showed not an ounce of fear.

Chapter Six

Watchers and Eavesdroppers

Y
SIL FOLLOWED HIS
grandfather’s command to remain still, more out of fear and self-preservation than for the sake of respect. He watched while Cotur Ada made his offer to the crow Banka and heard with dread. He knew that even if the crow were to take the offer from his grandfather, it would surely mean the death of the elder quail. When Banka had agreed, Cotur Ada urged the babes to go with the elder Incanta and never look back. Through all this, Incanta did not speak one word. Only upon departure did she look back to Cotur Ada.

Before disappearing down a quail’s trail hidden beneath a trestle of cloaked panic-grass and bull thistle, with a voice feeble but definite, she spoke: “You may very well command the ear of the King-in-waiting with your last words, likewise the sorcerer and also the General. What will you do with your tongue, old bird?” With that she ushered the chicks into the brush and disappeared. She was nearly blind, but she knew the trail by heart. Ysil said a prayer she would find her way, for the day was wearing on and the dark would soon come. He prayed them safe haven through the night.

Monroth and Ysil lay as still as possible, watching and trying to hear what Cotur Ada and Banka were saying, but they could make out none of it, for now they spoke in hushed tones. Then the crow pressed the quail through the brush at the edge of the field and then into it. Ysil and Monroth watched helplessly as Cotur Ada walked to the murder and to his fate. Behind him walked Banka, needing to do little to urge him on.

G
OMOR WAS BORED.
The day in the Vulture Field was hot and the wind was still. And besides that, it was creepy and strange here. He much preferred his home den. Adventure was exciting and all, but home was home and that was that. He wished he had been asked to go with Ysil and Monroth. He considered them upon a true quest, albeit dangerous.

He decided to go over and get a better look at the deer and coyote resting on the far side of the field. After some coaxing, Cormo had gone with him and, more easily, Harlequin. It was of no worry to be near the deer, but the coyote was different.

“It must be safe if the deer is just lying there unconcerned with the closeness of the predator,” said Harlequin.

So, taking to a tight group, and edging inch by inch closer to the coyote, their eyes locked on his, the three came within speaking distance of the adopted residents. Both animals considered them, flicking the ever-present early fall flies with their tails, the deer chewing the cud and the coyote a bone. Neither animal granted the arrival of two young quail and a rabbit much notice. It was Cormo who spoke first.

“Hello,” he said. The deer just glared back.

“Hello, my tasty one.” It was the coyote who answered.

Gomor shivered. “Um, hello, sharp tooth. Uh, what brings you both to the Vulture Field?”

The coyote was exceedingly old, and it seemed an effort for him to offer a reluctant answer: “I suppose it could be said that it is the daily guarantee of a bountiful feast that brought us here. . . and keeps us. However, I must admit that tomorrow holds nothing. Eh, Sephel? Easy here for us today, but tomorrow is meaningless. What say, old friend?”

The deer moaned and shifted. “I would admit there is much truth to what you say, Cago, much truth. But I say tomorrow be damned. Ones as old as we cannot claim much of a tomorrow bearing these withered forms. At least here we can be friends, you and I. I worry not for your teeth, and you lust not for my flesh. Free at last from the bonds that have held us for so long.”

The coyote laughed. “Little ones, come rest with us for a while. All you must do to be cared for is to lie down. No announcements needed. The vultures will bring you food.”

“We don’t need the vultures to care for us; we are only here passing through,” said Harlequin. “We have a home.”

“Oh, pretty one,” said Sephel, “from here, you will certainly be upon a circular journey. Your path will lead you back to this place one day, by your own will or not.” And with this the coyote and deer both laughed darkly, then fell into an easy silence, returning to their chewing.

The quail and rabbit alike shivered. Then Cormo said to Gomor, “Let’s leave these two alone. They are past insane.” Neither Gomor nor Harlequin argued.

The three went back to the main group of animals for a while as the vultures had brought in hay from the fields near and also branches covered with late berries. Some of the berries had soured. Only the elders were allowed these, and they brought much happiness to the mind and body. Too many of these soured berries and the eater would become dizzy and mindless. The young were not privy. Harlequin sat down to eat beside Cotur Mono. The leader of the quail had consumed a few of the sour berries, but not too many. He was sentimental. They talked of the day and of the dealings with the vultures. They spoke lightly for a bit, then Cotur Mono narrowed his eyes upon the younger.

“So, my little one, which of your suitors has caught your eye?” he asked her.

“Oh, Grandfather, I can admit to none!” she said. “All are but chicks, and I love only one. You know that! Only you.” She toyed with him.

He smiled back. “My love, you are the joy of my life, just as your grandmother was before you. Your grandmother. I do miss her.”

Sadness overtook the younger quail. “I miss her also. From early waking light until darkness of sleep I think of her. And with the closing of dusk I dream of her.”

Cotur Mono sighed. “Of all my children—let me tell you a secret—of all my children, you are my dearest. I see so much of her in your heart.” He saw that Harlequin was crying.

Harlequin’s eyes twinkled with the love she felt for the strong, wise bird. “Grandfather,” she said, “there is one whom I have caught within my heart, and I do feel I am within his.”

“Oh, your whispering heart! I believe I do know of whom you speak, my pretty. You speak of your old friend? The grand chick of Cotur Ada? By name, Ysil?”

She laughed. “Oh, Grandfather, why do you jest with me? He is too much a friend to be within the space of my heart! You only pretend not to know. I speak of Monroth!”

The old quail’s feathers quivered a bit, as if a breeze had arisen, but there was no wind. He stared at her for a passing instant then went on. “Oh, yes, surely he is strong and full of wit. Fine young bird, yes, fine.” He coughed, and for a moment, Harlequin thought her grandfather had breathed in a moth.

Gomor and Cormo were eavesdropping behind them, close enough to hear her speaking, and when she mentioned Monroth they looked at each other in amazement. So she did hold a place within her heart for Monroth! This was a bit of a shock, but most of all Gomor considered this to be a sad thing. For even though Ysil had never said it aloud, the rabbit knew his friend held her within his heart. The two then moved a bit away where they could speak freely.

“Monroth! What a shame,” said Cormo. “Monroth bears more cowardice beneath his wings than Ysil will ever leave with his droppings.”

“You speak the truth, bird,” said Gomor. “Were I a quail, I would likewise be holding a place within for her.” He looked around to see for sure the others were too far to hear. “Let us go away now. On the journey here I sighted a hollow log, empty and huge. We could make it there by nightfall and spend the dark hours within. Then, come morning, we could hurry home. Far ahead of the rest we would be. What do you say, bird?”

It did not take Cormo long to consider. “Yes. Let’s do this,” he answered.

And with this last word the two stole away. And none saw them leave except Harlequin, who had noticed them conferring and looked after her friends.

C
OTUR
A
DA WALKED
with the stride of one who knows his fate and, though saddened by it, is nonetheless fearless to face what is to come. Ophrei watched his approach with trepidation.

“You are a fool, Cotur Ada,” said the rook. “You are a fool to be in this field today.”

“He watched the whole of the Reckoning,” said Banka. “He admitted this to me and certainly will to you likewise.”