by A V Awenna
***
Every part of Blackbird hurt. His shoulders throbbed, as his arms were bound above his head. His lips and tongue were dry as bark. His bare skin was cold, but burning where he had been whipped. His feet were agony.
But, despite this, he was safe. Full-sized, there was little in Annwn that could kill him. The sun had dipped behind the western peaks; soon it would be dark, and Pefryn would come and release him. Soon, soon, not much longer, he repeated silently.
A chill wind brought rain. It came from behind him, so he couldn’t even catch any to drink. But it reminded him of Vicky, of how she’d saved his life the last time he’d been soaked. Ah, if she was here now, she’d untie him in a heartbeat. She was so clever it was almost frightening. But gentle and caring, despite her righteous anger. She and her cousin were a powerful pair – Demi-Lee the fire who burned all in her way; Vicky the water, who could be gentle as rain or powerful as a flood.
And Heledd. Rock-solid Heledd. What a funny little person she was. So serious, so precise. But not pompous or grumpy-serious like a lot of elves. Heledd approached life like a game of chess, always thinking several moves ahead. Her anger, he was sure, would be terrifying as an earthquake.
He wondered how Vicky and Heledd would look now he was back to his full height. It was annoying to discover Demali was still taller than him, by several inches. Heledd, he was sure, would be shorter than him. His main impression of Heledd was a lot of brown – hair, eyes, practical clothes – setting off her creamy skin. Vicky was all colours, some of them ridiculously bright. She wore a lot of earrings, which was dangerous if he sat on her shoulder – although he wouldn’t need to do that again. Maybe she’d sit on his shoulders someday, he thought, that would be fun!
Vicky’s eyes were all colours too. A greeny-blue-grey, with a ring of gold around the pupil. When he’d been bird-sized her eyes had seemed big enough to swim in, but he got the feeling they were only average for a human. He really hoped she wasn’t taller than him.
The rain had changed direction, and he closed his eyes and stuck out his tongue as the sweet water kissed his face. He licked his cheeks to gather as much moisture as possible. Leaning his forehead against the whipping-post he returned to his thoughts.
Moments later he realised the wind and rain were no longer chilling him, although he could see and hear the raindrops splashing on the cobbles. Someone had cast a cloaking spell, not just hiding him from view, but keeping the rain off him. Someone powerful then; it wasn’t easy to create such a solid cloak. Rain was sliding down an invisible dome all around him. Someone else was within the dome, he could sense them, regarding him. He knew who it was, and knew he wasn’t ready to meet him.
‘That doesn’t look very comfortable,’ a voice said. It was matter-of-fact, and Blackbird recognised it instantly. He tried not to flinch.
‘It isn’t,’ he croaked. He thought, If I wasn’t tied to this post, I’d be running now. If only I could see your eyes. Are they full of anger? Hatred? Or pity?
‘You shouldn’t have returned. You were exiled for a reason,’ the voice continued, still devoid of emotion.
‘We were innocent. You should know that now,’ Blackbird said.
‘I see you still have your balls. If I thought you’d gone anywhere near my wife I’d have gelded you myself.’
‘You took my wings instead. Maybe I miss those more,’ Blackbird replied.
Tefyn snorted. ‘Have you any idea what you’ve done? Hafren has invoked the law that says a damaged man cannot rule. He wants to call an election – and bar me from standing. You may as well have handed him Annwn on a plate.’
Blackbird closed his eyes in shame. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. ‘I did not intend to attack you. But you were killing me, and I blazed in self-defence.’
‘I know. I should have controlled myself. I should trusted Pefryn – and you.’
Blackbird opened his eyes. Tefyn was standing in front of him, his right arm still in a sling. The elf was hiding his feelings, but Blackbird gathered his courage. ‘I think I can heal you. That’s why I returned,’ he gasped, dry-mouthed
‘How? You were cut with iron. Your power neutralised. How could such a pitiful wretch lift such a powerful curse? You couldn’t lift the lid of a pisspot.’
Blackbird held Tefyn’s gaze, and studied his face. It was more lined than Blackbird remembered - Tefyn didn’t look as though he’d been sleeping well. Annwn’s fairies would never have been bold enough to look an elf full in the face, but Blackbird and Pefryn had been raised in the Eastlands, and come to Annwn as young adults. They had never shrunk from looking an elf in the face, or voicing an opinion. It was Tefyn who looked away first.
Blackbird tried to speak, but the words got stuck in his parched throat.
‘Here,’ said Tefyn, producing a gourd from his cloak with his left hand and pulling out the cork with his teeth. ‘Drink this.’ He held the bottle to Blackbird’s lips, tipping a little at a time into the fairy’s thirsty mouth. It was a good draught, sweet and spicy. As well as nectar to give him energy, there were herbs to calm and strengthen him.
It didn’t take long for Blackbird to empty the bottle. Tefyn returned the gourd to his cloak.
‘I can’t untie you,’ he murmured. ‘Not with only one good hand.’
‘My own anger has defeated me,’ Blackbird said.
‘I wish there were a way,’ Tefyn said.
‘Push the peg out.’
Tefyn looked blank.
‘The peg that goes through the whipping post,’ Blackbird explained. ‘If you can push that through, the rope should come undone.’
‘How did you work that out?’ Tefyn asked.
‘I’ve had a few hours.’ Blackbird replied.
Tefyn picked up a loose cobble and used it to strike the end of the crosspiece. There was a slight movement. After a few minutes’ work, during which Blackbird received a few accidental thumps, the crosspiece was short enough to ease the first loop of the rope over it, and the rest of the rope soon followed. The longer the piece of free rope, the easier it was to untangle the rest, and soon Blackbird was almost free – his wrists bound together by the length of rope which looped around the other side of the post. All he needed to do was lift the rope over the top of the post. But he was exhausted. His arms could barely move after being tied above his head for so long, and his back still throbbed from the whipping. It was Tefyn who reached up with his good hand and lifted the rope over. Blackbird was free.
Tefyn took Blackbird by the elbow, and helped him down. The fairy tried not to show pain, but he was cut and bruised all over. Every movement, every footstep was agony.
‘Go to the Healers’ Lodge,’ Tefyn said. ‘We need to talk, but you need treatment.’
‘They can see what a neat job they made of sewing me up the last time,’ Blackbird muttered.
‘You’ve no idea what it cost me even to get you to them,’ Tefyn replied. ‘Hafren wanted you exiled immediately, before you’d even regained consciousness. But I persuaded the council that would have been murder. I managed to keep you with the healers ’til you were over the worst. That wasn’t easy, not when I was being force-fed dreamweed myself.’
Blackbird didn’t respond. Maybe Tefyn felt he deserved gratitude for that, but it was hard to give. Still... Blackbird remembered the copper bangle. Awkwardly, he slipped it off his wrist, and offered it to Tefyn. ‘That will stop me from attacking you again. Accept this, and anything I give to you will be returned,’ he said.
Tefyn accepted it, and closed it around his damaged wrist. It looked small and cheap against the elf’s fine robes, but Tefyn didn’t seem to notice.
‘We need to get you some clothes too. Can’t have you running around almost naked, even outside the city walls. Probably should give you a good scrub and shave – I’ve never seen such a dishevelled creature. Don’t worry, I’ll cover the costs, for now. But
you will repay me.’