by Cory Huff
THE UNKINDNESS OF RAVENS
cory huff
Copyright © 2019 cory huff
All rights reserved.
ISBN:
ISBN-13:
To Ellie. I see you.
Prologue: The Sealgair
The slow Summer breeze made no noise. The heat and humidity stifled all sound. The Summer heat in the Hartland forest, even beneath the canopy, was enough to make anyone want to find a stream or a pond and float in it.
A leathery, green-skinned, bulge-eyed creature just four and a half feet tall was doing just that. His hands, connected to spindly arms, were clasped over his protruding belly as he floated with his eyes closed in the small pond. The cool water was a welcome respite. The hot breeze wafted by his face, and he sighed in contentment when he realized how good it all felt.
After floating for about ten minutes, the goblin opened his eyes and slowly began paddling to shore. As he began to step out of the water he thought he heard the breeze suddenly pick up, then his body went rigid, and his eyes widened in shock as a wooden arrow appeared in his neck as if by magic. He reached for the shaft, but the blood loss was so fast that the strength left him and he fell back into the water. The initial shock wore off, and he panicked, twitching his legs in the water, unintentionally propelling himself into the rushes near the shore. He was drowning in his blood as it poured down inside his ruined throat. His final thought as the darkness took him was wondering if the Sealgair killed him.
The Sealgair watched the goblin die in the pond. She was slight herself, not much taller than the goblin, but with more toned muscle. She was compact and rugged from years spent growing up in the Kjeldoran mountains and fighting a war in the Hartland forest. Her waist-length blond hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail, bound every few inches with leather strips. The ponytail, along with the rest of her, was covered with dirt, leaves, and other detritus from the forest. The dirt mostly obscured her pale skin. Her pointed ears were prominent at the side of her impassive face. Her mouth was set in a straight line as she watched. Her nostrils flared as the goblin sank into the water and her eyes widened as she searched for its companions. She had a faded scar that ran across her face from just above her right eye, across her nose and down her left jaw. That was the result of a sword blow from her early days as a warrior. Her hard body proudly bore scars from swords, spears, arrows, and other weapons.
The sunlight didn’t touch her. She had hidden well in the tree. The Sealgair, or Celestina as those she protected knew her, had been a warrior for longer than nearly any of her people. She remembered the Hartland war and the incursions of the goblinoid races into her people’s land. Even all these years later, her heart pounded, and her jaw clenched as she thought of all of her friends who died at goblin and orc hands. This goblin was lazy. There would be others who were not as lazy.
Sure enough, less than thirty minutes later, a group of goblins emerged from the woods, heading to the pond. There were five. The failed to see the body of their friend hidden among the rushes. She smoothly and slowly drew another arrow, breathing in as she aimed and holding her breath for just a moment as she released. A quick exhalation as the arrow was released and she had another arrow drawn before the first one hit home.
The first goblin at the pond died with a shaft through his chest while he was filling his water skin. She killed t with a shaft through his chest when he stepped forward to grab his companion who fell in the water. She killed the second one with a shaft through his neck as he backed up, having heard the arrows whistling in the wind. The fourth one died at the edge of the woods, an arrow in its back. The fifth one got into the woods behind cover, squeaking in fear and yipping a warning.
Celestina smiled as she dropped to the ground. He was yipping “Sealgair.” Their name for her. It meant “hunter.” She kept her bow in her hand as she moved to flank the goblin and put an arrow in this one too. She was almost in position after just a few moments when the shaking of bushes to her right warned her there were additional enemies. She turned and sidestepped behind a tree. She aimed at a brutishly large creature emerging from the bushes just twenty feet away. It was over six feet tall and had a heavy ax in both hands. It was wearing chainmail. It had a square jaw with bottom fangs protruding from its severe underbite. Orcs. Celestina disliked orcs just as much as she disliked goblins. Her arrow took it in the chest, easily puncturing the chain mail at that short range. It staggered and roared, searching for her and seeing her just as her second arrow took it in the eye, dropping it instantly.
A second and third orc came around the sides of the bushes. Celestina stepped out from behind the tree to get a useful angle and took the one on the right with an arrow to the chest. She silently cursed when she realized the other one had a crossbow. She heard the click of the bow as she dove back behind the tree. She felt a stinging sensation in her side. She ignored it as she drew her finely made longsword. She heard the orc’s boots stomping across the forest floor and timed her lunge out from behind the tree. She was no blade singer, but she had been fighting orcs for a very long time indeed. What her sword work lacked in beauty it made up for with sheer efficacy and savagery.
The orc saw her coming and pulled up short, avoiding her longsword lunge. The orc swung his heavy ax at her head, but she recovered and brought her longsword up inside his guard, hitting the haft and using her off hand on the back side of the blade to shove his arm out wide. She felt satisfaction as she guided her sword forward, twisting her wrist around and down, slicing open the inside of his left leg. He roared in pain and flinched. The face of dead friends flashed through her mind as Celestina reversed momentum and ran the point of her sword through his neck and kicked him in the chest, pushing him off of her sword.
Assuming a balanced stance, she looked around for more enemies. She saw the goblin who had escaped her initial volley of arrows. He was already running deeper into the woods. She didn’t have her bow in hand, but it was fine. Leaving one enemy alive would only serve to spread the fear of the legend of the Sealgair. Perhaps the rest of their kind would be cautious about coming this way, buying her more time to warn her people.
She grabbed a handful of green Summer leaves and used them to wipe the reddish black orc blood off of her sword. She didn’t bother with the blood that had spattered on her arm and the side of her face. Celestina had long ago stopped caring about her appearance. She spent so much time in the woods that the grime felt like a part of her.
She gathered her belongings from the tree, which took only a moment. Then she began quick-stepping her way back home. It would take several days, but it was necessary. The goblinoid races were sending scouts into the Hartland forest again. War was imminent, and the Tuatha needed to prepare. If they were not ready, they would bleed out the last of their lives underneath the trees.
1. On the Run
“Aidan, get down from that hill,” snapped the tall, red-headed, green-eyed Sophronia with a loud whisper. Aidan was standing at the top of a low hill. He was silhouetted against the sun, looking North. “Someone is going to see you.”
“I thought I saw something,” he whispered back. “Hang on.” Aidan continued looking around. He had previously claimed to see, in turn, animals, monsters, and members of the Black Raven tribe pursuing them.
Liam rubbed the back of his neck as he waited for them to start bickering again. Their arguing had become tiresome already, and they still had almost two weeks of travel on foot to get to Ghealdar. Once they were there, he hoped they would find the help they needed. Elder Kaufman had promised they would find someone to help them learn how to better use the Ogham, the magical language that had started this entire mess.
Sophronia scrambled back up the hill and reach
ed for his arm. “Even more reason to get down. If you can see them, they can see you.”
Aidan resisted her pull. At just sixteen years old, Aidan wasn’t muscular, but she was small as well, and he had been training, as a Squire in the Order of the Knights of the Creator, in the weeks leading up to their leaving Atania. “I don’t know if it is even them. It could have been a bird or some other animal. Stop pulling on me!” His voice rose to a shout on that last part, and he shrugged her off.
To Liam, the first day had felt like a harried flight. He had been terrified that more of the bug-eyed, pointy-eared, green-skinned monsters would chase them down. He was afraid that more of the Black Raven tribal warriors would find them. Between them, they had fought enough goblins and murderous warriors for a lifetime.
Elder Kaufman had warned them to watch out for ravens, the bird the tribal warriors worshipped. He and Sophronia and Aidan were all continually checking every angle of pursuit, and he found the hyper-vigilance exhausting.
“You’re both going to get us killed,” murmured Liam. In his thirties, Liam was significantly older than either of them. His skin looked older than he was too, a result of a lifetime spent tanning leather. The chemicals damaged his skin. He was standing at the bottom of the hill, and neither of them heard him over their bickering. Liam looked around and found a rock. He discarded a fist-sized stone. He didn’t want to hurt them, so he found a knuckle-sized rock and hurled it at Aidan. It hit him in the shoulder. He and Sophronia both flinched and looked down at Liam. He pointed down and tried to have a patient look on his face. He wasn’t going to suffer these children and their bickering.
They both came down the hill, Aidan rubbing his shoulder and glaring at Liam. Sophronia smirked a little bit. When they reached Liam, he picked up his heavy canvas travel pack and started trudging around the next hill.
“Wait, where are you going?” They both asked, then glared at each other.
“We can’t camp here now. If someone was looking, they’ve seen both of you.” He kept walking. As he disappeared around the next hill, Aidan and Sophronia grabbed their bags and hurried after him.
They trudged on for two more hours, exhausted and hungry before Liam finally stopped. The sun had fully set, and the partial moon was out. The moon and the stars combined to provide just enough light to see as Liam rummaged out his hard tack and sat down to eat. He unrolled a blanket and wrapped himself up in it, thinking about how it was at least Summer and not cold. Liam settled in with his back to the two bickering teenagers and tried to chew in silence. He could hear both of them digging in their packs, presumably preparing to sleep as well.
“I’ll keep the first watch,” he heard Aidan say.
“What are you doing?” Whispered Sophronia, again. “You’re doing the same thing you just did.”
“I’m crawling this time, not standing. Relax and go to sleep,” he responded. “Someone has to keep watch.”
“You’re going to be seen and get us killed. You don’t even know what to look for,” she hissed back.
Liam closed his eyes and for a moment wished for death. At least then he wouldn’t have to listen to them argue. Instead, death passed him by, and he heard Aidan stomp back down the hill and begin fighting with Sophronia in earnest. His forceful whisper was not quiet.
“I’m doing the best that I can Sophronia, and if you don’t respect me enough to do that, what are we even doing here? If you get killed on the way to Ghealdar, you’ll never learn about the Ogham, will you?”
“I didn’t ask you to come along,” snapped Sophronia, not even bothering to whisper anymore. “So don't act like you're doing me a favor. You don’t know what you’re doing any more than I do. We’ve both lost people Aidan, but at least I’m working towards something, not just running away.”
Too far, thought Liam. We’re in for it now. He rolled over and looked at them.
“How dare you!” Aidan screamed. “You think I’m running away from my brother? You think I’m running away from the church? I did what the Creator told me to do. My friend needed help, so I came running. How dare you!”
Liam sat up. He was going to have to put a stop to this, or they were all going to die. If they were lucky, it would be by an enormous monster that ate them in one fell swoop. He hoped it killed him first.
“Fat lot of good your help did Aidan,” Sophronia was past caring about her volume. “People died. Good people. Your friend Nia died, and you were too busy hacking apart a body to save her.”
“Shut up!” Aidan yelled. Liam stood up as Aidan shoved her.
Sophronia grabbed Aidan’s right wrist, twisting his hand upright and bending his thumb backward, driving him to his knees.
“Don’t ever touch me,” she yelled at Aidan. “I should break your thumb!”
Liam rushed forward, getting between them and placing a gentle hand on Sophronia’s. “Please stop. Both of you.”
Sophronia looked at Liam’s face. He tried to keep his face neutral. She released Aidan, who immediately stood up, rubbing his sore thumb and shaking his hand.
Liam spoke directly to her, “We’ve all been through a horrible tragedy. We’re still not safe, as far as we know. This will not help us be safe.” He turned to Aidan, “Listen, young man,” he paused, reflecting on the age gap between him and Aidan. Aidan looked up from his hand and made eye contact with Liam. He immediately lowered his eyes and turned away.
Liam cleared his throat, “Listen, young man. I know you’re hurting and upset. But this is not acceptable behavior from either of you. You’re holding a sword, and you have seen how much danger there is out there. You need to act like a grown up. We can’t stay here. We’ve been too loud. Let’s go.”
Aidan nodded and started gathering up his things. Sophronia and Liam silently and quickly repacked, and they headed off into the night. They would not likely sleep this night.
Sophronia seethed in frustration as she walked alongside Aidan and Liam. She knew that Aidan was doing the best he could. She was nineteen and knew what it meant to be a grownup. He was a child and didn’t understand how important it was that they travel quickly and without being seen. He was constantly standing on top of hills and striking poses, pretending to be some hero in his mind. She knew that he was mourning the death of his father and the disappearance of his brother.
Things should have gone differently. She had trained for years, drilling herself out of the tactical manuals she found in Hidden Atania. She had taught herself how to use a sword and how to invoke the Ogham power to distract and win in combat. A woman with pointed ears and a brute with huge muscles had shown her how much her training lacked. She didn’t know anything. She had assured herself that she was safe by beating up handsy drunks in alleys. Real warriors were fast, brutal, and didn’t hesitate to kill.
Sophronia had hesitated. When it mattered, on the street in Atania and her house, she had failed to stop blows she saw coming. She was unable to protect herself. She failed to defend her brother Luke. She was worthless in a fight. Aidan knew more than her, and he had only been training with the church knights for a month. She had been drilling from manuals for years. Apparently, practical experience trumped theoretical study. She would find a way to make this work. She would get better. She would learn how to fight, and she would stop people from hurting her friends and family. It decidedly was not about how much pain she had been in, or the fact that she thought she was going to die. It was just about the fact that she needed to be better.
And that Nia girl. Whatever she had done had healed Sophronia’s stomach. It was like she invoked the Ogham, but without any of the gestures. Her wound had closed, and she had felt better almost immediately. Sophronia would have begged Nia for an opportunity to learn from her. But now she was dead in a house that had collapsed in flames. Also, Aidan couldn’t allow himself to mourn, so he was making stupid mistakes.
She grit her teeth and kept walking.
After what felt like an eternity, they came upon a rocky outc
ropping jutting up from the cliffs next to the ocean. The sun was cresting the East, and the faint red light gave the outcropping a dark shadow. Liam pointed and said, “Let’s rest here. There might be places for us to hide.” Sophronia was too tired to argue. As they approached the rock spire, it loomed largely. Perhaps just over 100 feet high and 40 feet wide, the cylindrical rock was a dark grey streaked through with white. When they got within 100 feet, Sophronia realized there was a tower carved into the rough spire. “Is that some sort of house?”
Liam paused and looked up, shielding his eyes from the sunrise. “There’s a set of stairs carved into the rock, winding around the side of the spire. I see a small window, but no holes or damage.”
“What in the world?” breathed Aidan. “Neat.” He smiled and ran forward.
“Aidan stop! We don’t know if anyone lives there,” hissed Sophronia.
“I think this might be a good spot to rest,” said Liam. “I think that’s an old military tower. If it’s not ruined, it will have safe places to sleep and perhaps even escape routes for sieges in case someone is actually pursuing us. Come on; let’s check it out.”
Liam ran forward after Aidan. Sophronia stamped her foot in rage. He was a child.
Aidan easily outpaced the others and ran up the stairs. By the time she got to the bottom of the stairs, Aidan was already trying the door. It was wooden, banded with iron. There was a slight bit of rust on the iron as if the door hadn’t been cared for in a long time. Aidan turned the heavy iron handle and pushed, but it didn’t move. He put his shoulder to the door, and after two more tries, the heavy iron and wood slab pushed in with a great creak of rusty hinges.
“Aidan, did you even think to knock?” Said Sophronia as she rushed up the stairs.
He responded as he stepped inside, “If nobody was caring for the door, then nobody lives here.”