Raven's Song

by Launnie Roush

  “I told you when we first met to mind your manners, and since you haven’t, I’ll have to ask you to leave! Let me show you the door!” the White Spider fumed as he snatched Richard up by his arm and flung him against the office door.

  Richard was utterly silent as he left the office. He stalked into the speakeasy proper, approached the bar, and morosely plopped onto a barstool. Ramiro appeared behind the bar several moments later and came to stand across from Richard.

  “I need a drink,” Richard muttered.

  Ramiro hurried off to oblige Richard as the cowed man sat stewing in his rage. A minute later, Ramiro set an orange colored drink in front of him.

  “He had the nerve to lay his hands on me?! Me, the CEO of the third largest corporation in the Federation!” Richard blasted before taking a deep pull from his drink.

  “You were lucky, my sweet,” Ramiro told him, “Had you seen the White Spider’s face, you would be dead now.”

  Richard snorted, “What’s so special about him? He seems like any other gang leader to me.”

  “The White Spider is the only child of our mighty Jonin. He executes the will of our leader as second-in-command. His word is the Jonin’s, my sweet.”

  “I suppose he won’t be helping me, then,” Richard grumbled.

  “Oh, he will,” Ramiro corrected, “It’s in his best interest to do so, sweet.”

  #

  That same night, Max found Caitlyn looking in on Eve as the little girl slept, her arm draped lovingly over a stuffed toy parrot her brother had recently given her.

  He went up behind his wife and wrapped his arms around her waist. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he whispered.

  “Absolutely breathtaking!” Caitlyn agreed.

  “You sure about sendin’ her to your sister’s while you fight tomorrow?”

  “I am. She’s too young to enjoy a kendo match, and Megan’ll love to have her over.”

  The couple crossed the hall and peered into Del’s room. Their son tossed and turned in his bed, sweat soaking his body and frightened whimpers occasionally escaping him. His sleep was always troubled in this way, and it filled them with deep sorrow and regret. The first night it occurred, they tried to comfort him, only to have him emerge violently from his slumber, his hands around Max’s throat in the span of a single blink. After that, they were forced to resign themselves to the fact they could do nothing to ease his nocturnal torment, a fact they utterly despised.

  Caitlyn pulled Del’s bedroom door closed, then allowed Max to take her to bed.

  THIRTY FOUR

  The largest stadium in the state of Raven was located on the east side of East Chieftown. As the clock struck noon, the arena was opened to the public and was quickly flooded with excited spectators. Within an hour, all the seats in the massive arena were filled.

  Bert had twelve seats reserved for him and most of his relatives in his field side governor’s box, which was guarded by a squad of fully armed and armored Raven rangers. He and his guests were all dressed in semi–formal attire, and the VSF personnel in the party were outfitted with their sword belts and scimitars. As they waited for the event, a gridiron match, to commence, Bert, Ronald, and Angelina sat chatting jovially while waiting for Peter to return with refreshments. Michael, meanwhile, was playfully tormenting Anna with a souvenir pom-pom, his wife making threats of violence against him despite the amusement her entire persona radiated. Max was listening to Daryl, who was describing his new duties as Bert’s assistant, when he noticed his son was kissing his new girlfriend with gusto while James tried desperately to get his attention.

  “Lookit ‘im! It’s like he’s tryin’ to devour the poor girl!” Max observed.

  “Your son likes to show his affections,” Daryl agreed.

  “You don’t think they’re movin’ too fast, do you?”

  “Thinking about discussing pillowing with your son?”

  “Well, with him bein’ in Dis so long, I doubt he’s uninformed on the matter. Still, I suppose it wouldn’t be a bad idea,” Max admitted.

  “I think you should be having this discussion with your wife, and not your SIR friend.”

  Max was about to reply when a quick-tempo fanfare echoed throughout the arena. The music was followed by an enthusiastic wave of applause, which quickly died down and was replaced by a male’s voice, which belonged to the arena’s announcer.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” the announcer bellowed, “esteemed senators, and our beloved governor, welcome to this, the third game of the Federal Scrimmage League’s third week of summer tour play, being held on this, the ninth of July, 3183! We have a tremendous gridiron matchup between the Fort Nashborough Goliaths and the Cheiftown Headmen. We also have a spectacular halftime show featuring three exhibition freestyle kendo matches between some of the most skilled kendoka in the Federation. Now I have only one question; ARE YOU READY FOR SOME GRIDIRON?!”

  This question was answered with wild applause and cheers.

  #

  The first half of the match was fantastically thrilling, both teams displaying tremendous offensive and defensive skill. The quarterbacks and receivers performed at the top of their game, and each defensive line wowed the crowds with brutal tackling. At the arrival of halftime, the Goliaths lead by a single converted touchdown. The announcer informed the crowd that it was time for the halftime show, and a wooden kendo competition floor was quickly assembled at center field, the kendoka taking their places at its sides upon its completion.

  “Introducing first, a kendoka who was a dominant force in the sport until retiring to raise a family. Let us warmly welcome back Mrs. Caitlyn Floyd-Von Raben!”

  Caitlyn stepped onto the combat floor and presented herself to the adoring crowd. She wore her old competition uniform and bogu, and in her hands was her favorite halberd, still in pristine condition after so many years.

  “And her opponent is a young man of great talent. He is the state of Rabbit’s very own ‘Duke of Kendo.’ The one, the only, Hamilton Barrett!”

  The young man who sauntered onto the combat floor was thin, handsome, and charismatic. He hefted his Bo staff and appealed to the crowd for their approval, which they gave in spades. The combatants went to the center of the arena floor, paid their respects, then faced each other and entered their battle stances. A second later, the shinpan signaled the start of the match.

  #

  High up in the stadium was a small booth reserved for the engineers who controlled the huge nanite lamp-clouds used to illuminate the arena at night and during overcast conditions. A lone engineer manned the booth and kept the lamp-clouds in working order. The engineer, a middle-aged man by the name of Henry Stephenson, decided to stretch his legs, and left the small booth.

  A narrow catwalk snaked its way through the scaffolding above the arena, and although it was nearly sixty feet above the next walkway, Henry was quite comfortable as he strolled along its length. Occasionally, the roar of the crowd reached his ears as they reacted to the freestyle kendo match on the field, but mostly he heard the low moan of the breeze moving through the webbing of steel forming the scaffolding. To Henry, this was the most relaxing place in the world, and he relished the time he could spend here.

  A soft clanking sound came from behind him, and when he turned, his heart seemed to skip a beat. The person in front of him was dressed entirely in gray and had a strange featureless mask that Henry recognized from stories as belonging to a Spider genin. As Henry watched in horror, the person pulled a wicked, sickle-like weapon from behind his back and started forward. Henry spun about with the intention of fleeing, but found his path blocked by three more of the masked assailants, each one carrying the same sickle weapon.

  Henry fell to his knees and let out a desperate cry for help that he knew would go unanswered. Seconds later, the masked assailants surged forward and severed his hold on life. The dying man let out one last, gurgling scream that was lost among the shouts of the crowd below him.

  The
Spider genins quickly returned the dead man’s body to the control booth. Moments later, the scaffolding was swarming with genins who were climbing up out of the dark depths of the stadium superstructure below. These genins carried strung bows and had small, cup-like quivers of arrows hanging from their belts. As they mounted the catwalk they began to spread out in both directions, taking positions all along its length. Once all one hundred of them were in place, they readied their bows and waited.

  #

  Down by the main gates of the arena, the three Raven rangers who were working as security guards were chatting with the ticket takers, all of whom were busily tallying up the gate proceeds.

  “Excuse me, sirs, but could you help me?” a cheery voice rang out.

  The rangers turned to find a woman strolling towards them through a gate they had yet to seal. The highest ranked of the six rangers moved to intercept the woman, who was rather unremarkable with a plain face, dull green eyes, and straight red hair which hung limply to her mid-back. She wore tight gray leggings and an equally tight, sleeveless black shirt, displaying a thin, athletic body.

  “Ma’am–” the ranger started, but was quickly interrupted by the woman.

  The woman smiled, the action lending her a touch of beauty, “I know what you’re gonna say. Somethin’ to the effect of ‘no admittance’, and all that authority gloss, I’m sure, but see, here’s the thing. My boyfriend’s in the arena; section five, seat thirty-five. He’s got my ticket, so I was hopin’ one of you could go inside, get my ticket, then come let me in.”

  “Once the gates are closed, no one’s allowed in,” the ranger stated abruptly.

  The latecomer was unmoved. “C’mon,” she urged as she causally reached behind her back, “it’ll be worth your while.”

  “Yeah?” the ranger asked with mild interest.

  The woman’s smile grew brighter, “Oh definitely!”

  The ranger was about to speak again when the red-haired woman whipped a kama from behind her back and effortlessly cut the ranger’s head from his body. The other rangers went for their weapons just as a wave of Spider genins stormed through the gate, flooded past the woman, and quickly overwhelmed them and the ticket takers. The Spiders continued to flow through the gates until they numbered one hundred fifty strong, filling the gate area to overflowing. The White Spider was the last to enter, his mask’s unique emblem distinguishing him from the others. All eight entrance gates were then chained closed, making escape from the area highly improbable. Once this was done, the genins trained their masked gazes on the White Spider.

  “The archers will force the crowd to flee, forcing the Von Rabens to come this way. Once they do, kill them. This is our mission. All others you encounter you may deal with at your leisure,” he ordered, his voice ominous in its lack of emotion.

  THRITY FIVE

  Caitlyn continued to back away from her opponent as he pressed her with a flurry of staff strikes. Since the match’s onset, Caitlyn had been on the defensive and was having difficulty finding an opening in her young opponent’s assault to exploit. Barrett’s staff was just as long as Caitlyn’s halberd, so they shared equal reach advantages. It was when Barrett went to jab at her with the end of his staff that Caitlyn acted. She quickly dodged inside the attack, lowered her halberd, and thrust its tip into his abdomen.

  Barrett let out a pained grunt and fell to his knees, his arm clutched to his midsection. Caitlyn approached her downed opponent and offered her hand to the young man, much to the crowd’s approval. Barrett looked up at Caitlyn with a small, pained smile before suddenly surging upwards and backhanding her hard across the face. Caitlyn let out a cry and tumbled backwards, landing hard on her backside.

  Barrett thrust a fist into the air, gave his staff a jaunty twirl, and let out a shout of triumph amid the crowd’s boos and jeers. Caitlyn took this moment to swing her halberd at Barrett, its wooden blade connecting soundly with his right bicep. As Barrett let out a pained wail, Caitlyn gained her footing and swung her halberd again with all her might. Barrett had just turned to face Caitlyn and was unprepared to stop the incoming halberd blow. She let out her own shout of triumph as the halberd thudded off the side of his head, the blow counting for two points.

  Barrett let out a low groan and sank to a knee. Without a moment’s hesitation, Caitlyn pounced on her opponent and jabbed the butt of her weapon into the small of his back, earning the final point needed to secure victory. The shinpan confirmed said victory moments later.

  “Hamilton Barret is defeated! This puts Caitlyn Floyd-Von Raben’s personal career victory count up to seventy-two! All hail the victor!” the announcer trumpeted.

  Caitlyn raised her halberd over her head and basked in the crowd’s accolades.

  #

  After the halftime show there was a ten minute recess in which the battle floor would be cleared from the field, and the spectators could return to their seats. Up in the catwalk, the archers were still awaiting their orders when one of them used the visual amplification feature of her mask to zoom in on the crowd on the far side of the arena. Moments later she pushed a button on her belt and waited.

  “Proceed,” the White Spider commanded through a speaker built into the mask.

  “Have Governor Bertram Von Raben and VSF Brigadier-General Maximilian Von Raben in my sights,” the genin reported quietly, her voice being picked up by a highly sensitive microphone in her mask.

  “Target the governor and make your shot. I will order the volley after your attempt.”

  “Acknowledged.”

  The archer stood, drew an arrow from her quiver, and knocked it. Her mask informed her that her target was nearly out of her bow’s range, but she felt confident that she could make the shot. She drew the arrow back.

  #

  Max and Bert stood conversing in the aisle beside the governor’s box when Max felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Caitlyn regarding him with a dazzlingly gorgeous smile. She was now wearing a lovely emerald green dress, and Max could detect a faint scent of vanilla flowers coming off her person.

  “My beautiful wife,” Max greeted.

  “I must remember to congratulate your father on raising such an accomplished daughter,” Bert remarked.

  “You’re too kind, Mr. Governor. Max, could you go get me a drink?” Caitlyn requested.

  “Fine, but you owe me big time,” Max joked.

  “I think I can come up with adequate repayment,” Caitlyn shot back as she stepped between Max and his brother and embraced her husband, reaching down to playfully squeeze his backside. Max let out a comical yelp before giving his wife a quick, but loving, kiss.

  “Gonna give me more or what I got last night?” Max asked quietly after breaking the kiss, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

  “I’m gonna give it to you so hard, you might not survive it,” Caitlyn purred before engaging Max in another, much steamier kiss.

  Caitlyn and Max soon separated, and she started towards her seat. Max suddenly grabbed her hand and tugged her towards him. He did this with the intention of pulling her into another loving embrace and kissing her passionately, a silly yet romantic gesture he knew she would love. As she passed in front of his brother, Max distinctly heard a hollow crunch, followed immediately by a surprised grunt from his wife. He hoped desperately he had not hurt her, and as she came close, her face was contorted into an expression of puzzlement. As he continued to watch the woman, a small trickle of blood bubbled from the corner of her mouth, and her expression crumpled into one of agony before she fell heavily to the ground. He looked down to see a small length of an arrow’s shaft, a highly illegal weapon according to the Truth, protruding from his wife’s chest, its white fletching forming a sharp contrast to the blood that had started to soak her bodice.

  “Beloved?” Max asked dumbly as he started to kneel down beside her.

  “Get down!” one of Bert’s guards suddenly screamed, and Max was shoved down behind the row of seats by Daryl, who then threw h
is heavy synthetic body atop him.

  A swarm of arrows rained down from the sky and pierced many a person, their cries of pain and horror becoming a terrible cacophony that echoed through the arena. The Von Raben party was perfectly safe thanks to the guard’s early warning and the steel seats they crouched behind, which easily deflected the incoming arrows. The rain of arrows continued for nearly five minutes before finally tapering off. Bert’s bodyguards were the first to stand, pulling the governor to his feet soon after.

  “Is everyone okay?” one of the rangers called.

  “Caitlyn’s hurt!” Max cried.

  A loud metallic clang interrupted the exchange of words. “What in the Abyss was that?!” Ronald cried.

  “It’s a magnetic grappling harpoon. They’re laying down ziplines so they can come down from their positions in the lighting,” the same ranger that had spoken before reported.

  “We gotta get outta here!” Michael interjected.

  “Good plan. All together now,” Bert ordered, and everyone complied by climbing to their feet. Seconds after they had stood, there came a loud squeal, and they looked to witness a Spider genin shooting down the nearest zipline at breakneck speed. Once she was in the prime position to do so, she released the zipline and landed deftly in the far corner of the governor’s box. She then drew her kamas and started toward the Von Raben party.

  “I killed Caitlyn Floyd-Von Raben, and now I’ll kill everyone she ever loved,” the genin taunted.