Wren and the Ravens

by Eric Buffington

  He stopped and cast his eyes up just as the dark, powerful wings pushed the air down over his head. A most magnificent companion.

  The two of them continued through the woods until they came to a small cottage with a wrought iron gate out front. The entry was closed, but Wren could tell by looking at the grass near the flagstone walkway leading to it that someone had been through here recently. The raven lighted upon the pinnacle of the roof and crowed lowly before puffing its chest and shaking out its neck. It then pumped its wings part way and hopped a couple feet to the left.

  Wren moved to the door and pushed his way in.

  “Please help us!” someone shouted from within.

  Wren turned to look toward his pantry. The door was open, but no one was standing there. Instead, the trapdoor in the floor was open, and frantic whispers wafted up like vapors over a cauldron.

  “Shut up!” someone snarled.

  “It might not be the same man!” another said.

  By the tones of their voices, they sounded young. Wren gave two sharp whistles. The raven cried out and then soared in through the door. It dropped to the floor and then hopped along until it reached the edge of the trap door.

  Ca-caw!

  “Ugh, it’s only a stupid bird!” a young female voice hissed. “Go on, get out of here! Shoo!

  The raven hopped back toward Wren. Rrrreeek!

  Wren shook his head and quietly closed the door. He carefully locked it, sliding the numerous bolts and chains into place. He moved to the back of the house where the bedroom was and looked into the top interior corner of the doorway. The barely noticeable end of a thin, tan thread poked out at him, indicating that the door had not been opened. He turned the knob and pushed the door open two inches only. The thread fell from its place, but that wasn’t what Wren was concerned with. He slipped a long, slender bit of metal out from his belt and through the open doorway. He worked the tool upward until he felt the taught tripwire. Using his tool, he disarmed the trap and pushed the door open the rest of the way.

  No one was inside the bedroom. The dart gun rigged on the far side of the room had not been fired, and the non-lethal sleep dart was still where Wren had left it.

  He closed the door once more and went to the back of the kitchen. He unlocked a slender cabinet and checked for signs of tampering. Finding none, he slipped into the secret passageway and descended a set of spiral stairs until he reached the old cellar that had been reconstructed to become a type of dungeon when he had purchased the cottage from its former owner.

  “Did you hear something?” a young male voice asked.

  Wren approached a thick wooden door that separated him from his captives. He slid a key into the lock and then threw the door open. For good measure, he pulled the chain to his left that activated a mechanism which struck a flint along a stone trough in the wall, lighting a small river of oil that illuminated the entire room.

  Five adolescents shrieked and began trying to climb over each other as they swung inside a hanging net dangling over a twenty foot deep pit, which itself was surrounded by a cell of iron bars.

  “Who are you?!” demanded a particularly sour-toned young woman.

  It was then that Wren recognized her. It was the girl from the camp, Knell. “You seem to have a certain fondness for swinging cages and the like,” Wren said as he stepped into the light and closed the door behind himself. “I can’t imagine what you are doing here.”

  “We were just trying to find a place to rest,” Debir said.

  “And something to eat,” the larger boy of the group added.

  Just then the raven flew in from above and landed on the top of the net, squawking and crowing loudly.

  The younger girl, Sarta, let out a squeak and tried to shew the thing away. Wren snickered as the raven hopped along the top of the thick ropes and flapped its wings a bit. The five of them were all bunched together too closely to allow any of them to approach the raven, but it was fun watching them try.

  “I think he likes you,” Wren jested.

  “Get the bird away!” Sarta squealed.

  Wren gave a short whistle and the raven jumped off the net to glide down to his outstretched arm. “Stale rye cracker?” Wren asked, digging into a small pouch for the bird’s favorite snack. The raven snatched it from him and then flew up through the hole above the net.

  “Hurry, get us out of here, there was another man who came here before, and he didn’t look too happy.”

  “Another man?” Wren asked. “Tell me about him.”

  “Get us out, and we’ll tell you,” Knell said.

  Wren shook his head. “No, you see I am afraid I only give out one free escape, and since you have all already benefitted from my benevolence, you’re going to have to work with me first. Describe the man.” Knell blinked incredulously at him and knitted her brow.

  Liden cut in, eager to appease Wren’s demand for information. “He was tall, dark hair, wore a black cape over a really nice shirt made of silk, or something like it. I’ve only seen silk once before, but this had the same shine to it and—”

  “Did he give his name?” Wren pressed.

  “No,” Knell huffed.

  “Did he say anything?”

  “Only that he had been played for a fool,” Debir said. “He leaned over the pit above us. I got a good look at him. He was sure angry to see us. Whatever he had expected to see here, it wasn’t us.”

  “Okay, he told you what we know, now let us out!” Sarta bellowed.

  Wren sighed and moved toward the cell of bars. “I went to a lot of trouble to create this trap.”

  “You?!” Debir shouted.

  Wren nodded and rested his forearms over the flat bars that held the upright bars in place. “I spent much of my savings on this cottage. I converted it to be the perfect place to attract enemy spies.”

  “Spies?” Knell asked.

  “Of course!” Liden shouted. “You must be a spy too. That’s how you were able to get us out of the camp, and that’s why you—”

  Debir elbowed Liden in the ribs.

  “Hey, why’d you…” the young man’s eyes went wide and he looked back to Wren. “Oh,” he said under his breath.

  “No need to worry, Juggler. As a general rule, I don’t hurt women or children,” Wren said, understanding the young man’s sudden apprehension. “Spy is not a term I would use for myself. It lacks a certain… finesse.”

  “Well since we’re not old like you, are you going to let us go?” Sarta asked.

  Wren grinned. “Let me guess,” he said pointing to Knell. “You’re the older sister, am I right?”

  Knell rolled her eyes and Sarta puffed air impatiently.

  “Thought so,” Wren said. “I like you two, you have spirit.” Wren folded his arms. “Even back at the camp I heard Knell throwing insults at the soldiers, and I take it the younger sister is probably even a bit sassier.” Wren smiled and gave a wink to Hunlok. “I see why you three chose to travel with these two.” The assassin cleared his throat and wrinkled his nose as he looked up to the ruined trap. “Still, the five of you are lucky to be alive. I don’t harm women or children, but the man I am after, the person you saw before me, has no such moral restrictions. In Freyr he murdered three generations of an entire family, starting with the youngest and working his way up so the patriarch of the family would see everything come to an end. In Merle, he slaughtered three women who had something he wanted. In Keppart he did more damage than I can list, and the cemetery is full of his handiwork. Why he spared you, the Divine only knows.” Wren glanced up to the trap door and shook his head. “Probably left you alive either because he figured you would starve to death before anyone found you, or to taunt me for failing to catch him. You see, he has been hunting me for seven years now.”

  “You? Why has he been hunting you?” Sarta asked.

  “First, how about you tell me why I keep running into you. This is the third time now. First I saw you outside of the bakery in Astyr, next I
saw you imprisoned in that camp, and now you are here in my very own home. I’m going to need an explanation.”

  Debir spoke up. “We saw some people take something from the office where I work and they’re after us.”

  Wren laughed when that was all that was offered to him as an explanation. “Come now, no one would chase a group of five teenagers across the entire kingdom for stealing something. It had to be a particular item that has a lot of value in one way or another.”

  Debir shook his head. “Look, it doesn’t make any sense to me either,” he said quickly. “I don’t even know exactly what it was they wanted.”

  “I’m sure you can do better than that,” Wren said tapping the side of his head. “Think real hard. What could they have wanted from your office?”

  “I don’t know.”

  Wren backed up a step and started closing the door. “Not good enough.”

  “Wait!” one of the young men called out. “Where are you going?”

  Ignoring their cries for help, Wren closed the door and walked back up the stairs to the pantry. There had to be some reason his path kept crossing with these teens and he needed to figure it out. His distaste for harming youth was common knowledge, but putting these children in his path three times seemed too elaborate a plan for any of his enemies with too many unpredictable variables. Besides, they were too innocent to work for one of his rivals. Still, there was something going on with this group, and he felt sure they were keeping something important from him. He retrieved a piece of jerky from a shelf and sat down next to the open trap door with the food in hand. He bit off a small piece and slowly chewed it. “Mmm. This is good.”

  “I thought you didn’t torture women and children!” Sarta shouted up at him as she shook her fist. “I’m starving down here! Give me that!”

  “I’ll let you out as soon as you tell me what you know. Why do you keep bumping into me? Who is after you? Tell me everything!”

  Debir looked at Liden who nodded his head and Debir responded. “Most of the information I file away in the office are military budgets and battle reports. There was one unusual package delivered to the office on the day it was robbed. I think it might have something to do with that.”

  Wren tore a strip of meat and threw it down to Sarta. She grabbed it and started eagerly chewing on it without sharing with the others. “Tell me about the package.”

  “It was huge compared with the other files that came in. Easily ten times as thick. It was among the files for the skirmishes along the border. I started reading it when my boss, Sergeant Avatol, took it to his office. Before he grabbed it from me I saw a little bit of what it was about. Something about the Merrynian army burning down some civilian homes.” Debir stopped talking for a moment, adjusting himself in the net. “It’s a dirty part of the ongoing war, but knowing the kingdoms take cheap shots at each other is no mystery. Definitely nothing to kill us over. What was unique about this file was that it was an investigation into something. Like they were figuring out who really did the attack or something.” Wren scratched his chin thoughtfully. What had they stumbled onto? He shook his head, not wanting to be distracted from his current mission. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Sounds to me as though you found information that you aren’t supposed to have. It might have evidence that isn’t widely known, or it might point to those who ordered the attack. Either way, none of you should have seen it. I doubt you will be safe anywhere near Ryr,” he said. “In any case, we have other matters to see to at the moment.”

  “That’s why we ran away,” Sarta put in. “Now will you get us out of here and give us some food?”

  “Wait a minute,” Debir said. “I have question for you. Who was the man we saw, and why was he looking for you?”

  “Nothing personal, just business,” Wren said. “I myself am not what you would call a decent man. I have killed for a living, and made many enemies, any number of which would pay handsomely for my head. That’s how I lured my target here. I made an arrangement with someone to pass along information about this safe house. It took quite a bit of money to put on the charade, and I am afraid you have all stepped in the soup.”

  “Ahhh! Soup!”

  “Shut up Sarta!” Knell put in. “None of that matters now. Just get us out of here and we’ll be on our way.”

  Wren leaned over the group and wagged his finger back and forth. “I have two problems,” Wren continued. “The first is that you have horribly foiled my contract, and the second is that you have nothing in the way of compensation to offer me. I have never failed a contract before, and this was a very lucrative one, not to mention the clients will not easily forgive failure. I have lost esteem, and in my world, that is all a man like me has.”

  “But, you are going to let us go…right?” Liden asked, his voice cracking on the last word.

  Wren studied them as they hung in the net. Debir was a short young man, but despite his small frame, he looked strong. Liden, the juggler, was of medium build with a very forgettable general appearance. The larger young man, Hunlok, was dressed in farm clothing and looked like he had been doing physical labor all his life. They all looked fit enough for hard labor, but maybe there was something else they were better suited for. The two young women were built well also, and beautiful too.

  “What are you looking at?” Sarta asked, the fire back in her voice.

  “I think I have an idea,” Wren said. “A way you can pay me back for the fantastic way you fouled things up.”

  “We won’t kill anyone,” Liden said.

  “What’s that supposed to mean Liden?” Debir retorted. He looked up apologetically at Wren. While the shorter young man also looked apprehensive about working for Wren, he seemed to have a little more tact.

  “You know exactly what I mean. I’m not becoming like—”

  “Like me?” Wren finished for Liden. A hush fell over the group of youngsters so that the creaking of the swinging rope was all Wren could hear. “I’ll get you out of there, but you will have to agree to help me with a few assignments. I won’t need you to kill anyone,” Wren said as he set his eyes on Liden. “I wouldn’t trust you not to foul it up anyway.”

  Liden gulped.

  “Are we agreed?” Wren asked.

  “What are the assignments?” Liden asked, still looking skeptical.

  “I will give you the information you need when you need it, Juggler, and not before.”

  “Well at least tell us how many,” Liden insisted.

  Wren shook his head. “Your arrival has thrown off my schedule. Work with me to get me back on schedule and then you will be free to go.”

  “What if we refuse?” Liden cut in. “You said you don’t harm women or kids, so what would you do if we say no?”

  “Well,” Wren said as he pushed up to standing. “I won’t harm you, but I won’t save you either. I suppose your stomachs will get fairly angry for a while. Then there will be the numbing hunger that makes your brain go a bit foggy after two days.” He took another deliberate bite of the jerky. “Beyond that it’s only a matter of time, and that’s to say nothing of what happens when you all finally can’t hold yourselves back from doing your other business.”

  “I do have to pee something awful,” Hunlok said with a shrug.

  Sarta’s face contorted and blushed.

  “You’d leave us here?” Knell asked.

  Wren shrugged and pulled on a rope attached to the trap door. It swung upwards into place level with the floor boards. Of course, even as he closed them in he knew he wouldn’t go through with it. He might give them a good tongue lashing, but letting them die wasn’t in his nature, and it would be far too much hassle to keep them captive. As he grabbed the rope to close the second trap door he heard Debir’s decisive voice.

  “All right, we’ll do it!” he said. “We’ll help you, and you will agree to let us leave once our jobs are finished. Please don’t close us in.”

  Wren turned on his heels and smiled down at them. “You have you
rself a deal, little man.”

  “Are you finally going to tell us what our first assignment is?” Sarta asked, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

  “Well, you all look fit and athletic enough. Ever fancy running away to be circus performers?”

  Knell and Liden exchanged a look that made Wren laugh for the first time in a long time.

  Chapter 13

  Liden rolled his shoulders in preparation for their first real performance in the streets of Kyt. Wren had had them practice their acts to perfection long before he let them leave his home in the forest, so it wasn’t any kind of trepidation about being able to juggle and tumble, it was the other part of their deal that had him worried. He was also concerned that Wren had taken several hours each day teaching them some self-defense maneuvers and some basic attacks. Why would they need those skills? What else did that spy have in mind for them? He looked up to the roofs of the buildings along the main street of Kyt.

  “He’s not actually watching,” Sarta said, giving Liden a bit of a shove. She walked with not only confidence, but a carefree jump to her step. Of course she would be completely comfortable with what Wren was asking them to do. Liden looked up again, just to double check the rooftops.

  “Try to relax,” Knell said, patting him on the back. “Just think of it as a job we need to do to help pay for the rest of our trip.”

  “I still don’t know why we can’t just head east now,” he protested in a whisper that gave away that he really did think Wren was literally watching over their shoulders. “He taught us some useful skills. We can put on some shows, raise some funds, and then leave him behind.”

  Debir slapped Liden in the chest, bringing their entire company to a halt. “You’ve got to just embrace this,” he urged. “I have some serious questions about what we’re about to do, but it’s the only way for us to get out of this situation with our hands clean of it. If we run, we’ll always be looking over our shoulders, wondering if he’s in the shadows waiting to pounce. It’s been bad enough running from one mysterious person trailing after us. I don’t think Sarta’s delicate disposition could handle having two.”