A Dark Tyranny

by C. M. Pendleton

  “I'm sorry. Go ahead,” said Finn.

  “No, it's ok. What were you going to say?” said Nylah.

  “I was just going to ask about falconry in the isles. You're from the isles, are you not? I mean, you’re not from here. I guess they do not know falconry there,” said Finn.

  “No. No falconry and, no, I'm not from here. But … yes, I am from the isles.”

  “You look different than them … your aunt and the others.”

  “I favor my father.”

  “He is from the isles?”

  “Yes, much to the chagrin of the others.”

  “I would love to see the isles someday.”

  “You should then.”

  She doesn't know I'm in servitude.

  “Do you like birds?” asked Nylah.

  “Some of them. I was assigned to clean the mew. I ended up being an apprentice to one of the falconers. I'm now one myself. The birds have grown on me.”

  “You've no say?”

  “No.”

  “I'm sorry. I've been speaking as if you did.”

  “It's quite alright. It is a nice change.”

  “Will you ever return?”

  “Home? To my parents?”

  “Yes.”

  “Someday … I suppose. They are in the Western Realm though.”

  “Why are you in the Southern Realm, then?”

  “They sometimes exchange … to prevent parents from seeing their children.”

  “To keep them from taking their children back?”

  “Wouldn't you?”

  “I suppose I would. That is very sad.”

  “I didn't mean to upset you. It will not last forever … at least I have a task I prefer. I could be peeling onions or cleaning bed pans,” said Finn. He grinned at Nylah to lighten the mood.

  The sun had almost completely set before they arrived at the mew. A soft glow of yellow surrounded it. Lanterns hung from the outside rafters of the wooden building. The mew was round and tall. There were no corners. It was a circular building with a roof that should have come to a point. However, the very top of the roof was cut flat. A plate of blown glass laid flat over the opening of the roof, allowing the sun and moon to shine into the heart of the mew. Finn took two lanterns from the door. He lit both and gave one to Nylah. The rich smell of straw, dust, and wildlife drifted from the mew. Nylah could hear the movement and the flapping of wings.

  “Don't worry. They’re in cages,” said Finn, as he opened the door to the mew.

  The ceiling of the mew seemed much higher from inside. The glass at the top let the first hint of stars drip down into the mew. The lanterns cast a soft glow against the varnished wooden walls and straw floor. Dust drifted up through the light. Steel cages littered the round walls. They stacked upon each other. The top of the mew was one large cage to itself. Branches were stuck into the walls for perching.

  “The cages are so small,” said Nylah.

  “We rotate the birds. Each one has time in the larger cage to stretch its wings … move around more for a while,” said Finn. “The others are small though. I agree.”

  “How many falcons are there?” asked Nylah.

  “They are not all falcons. It's called falconry but different types of birds are used. This one is a goshawk. A hawk. I took her out today. She has shorter wings so she is good for the forest … quickly catching hares. This one is a Gyrfalcon. She is much larger and better for distance.”

  “Her patterns are beautiful.”

  “Mist is one of my favorites. We're not supposed to name them but she's different. The white and black patterns are so crisp and sharp. I prefer her to the others … but don't tell them,” said Finn with a smile.

  Nylah stared at Finn and smiled back.

  “Are all of them females?”

  “Most of them are. The females are usually larger and stronger. Some are male but most are female.”

  “I guess you need both for breeding,” said Nylah.

  “Actually, we don't breed them.”

  “You catch them?” asked Nylah.

  “Yes. We train and hunt with them. We release some each year. Mist will be released at the end of the season. It's my favorite time.”

  “But you work so hard to train them.”

  “Nothing deserves to live in a cage,” said Finn. “We keep them here. Train them. They are fed, but not too much. They must think that we are their main source of feeding. So, they are kept just above hunger. They could fly away at any time during the hunt … but they return for food.”

  “But, they are hunting food.”

  “It's an illusion. They are only as captive as they choose to be.”

  “That is sad.”

  “It is why the best part of my year is releasing them.”

  “Do they ever stay?” asked Nylah.

  “Would you or I?”

  “No,” Nylah replied. She looked at Finn. She could see he was a good person. He had a gentle way about him that made her feel at ease.

  “Once they hunt and get to keep the spoils … the illusion is gone. They realize they are free.”

  Nylah stared at Finn. His brown hair was pulled back with a leather strap. However, some of it escaped and lay over his high cheekbones and down around his chin. He had the frame of a woodsman. He was neither thin nor heavily muscled. Nylah supposed his hands were rough and calloused. His face was brown from the sun. He spent most days outdoors. She could tell. His cage was much larger than the birds, but a cage none-the-less.

  “Will you return home … to the isles?” asked Finn.

  “Yes. My mother and father thought it would be a learning experience to see the realms.”

  “Do you like the realms?”

  “They are different.”

  “That’s a pleasant way of saying you’re ready to leave.”

  “I miss home. You understand,” Nylah said. She realized that Finn had no home the moment she spoke.

  “Unfortunately, no. However, I imagine that I would miss home.”

  Finn and Nylah stared at each other in an awkward silence.

  “My name is Nylah.”

  “I'm Finn.”

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Finn.”

  Chapter 4

  The Coming Storm

  Finn passed through the crowds towards the castle’s bake house. His mind raced with thoughts of Nylah. He thought of so many things he should have said to her. He wished he could relive their time at the mew. Finn hoped to rise early enough the next day to see her off. He would find a reason to be nearby. Finn was excited. He wanted to tell someone about it. His excitement turned to hunger. He realized he had not eaten since the early afternoon. His stomach made a hollow moan.

  Margery is working the ovens today. Biscuits with honey and bacon.

  The smell of the bake house always warmed his spirit. The bake house was made of thick slabs of wood. They made the building itself seem small. The wood was oiled a deep golden brown. There was a soft glow from the windows. The bake house had two large doors in front. They bore the red falcon crest of Castle Red.

  “And just exactly what would you be wanting?” said a middle-aged woman, as Finn entered. She was comely for her age, but quite tired. Dough was stained on her shirt and apron. Her blonde hair was pulled back in a knot. She had hazel eyes that were quite kind.

  “Don’t be coy, Margery. I’m here for your famous breads … and pleasant conversation,” said Finn, as he grabbed a roll from the counter.

  The bake house was one large room with a loft above. The ovens were always on and the smells of honey filled the room and drifted out into village. The floor was made from wide stones that had been sanded flat. A thin layer of flour blew across the stones with each footstep. Ingredients and utensils were strewn about but never lost. There was an odd sense of comfort and order in the bake house. It was, in large part, due to Margery.

  “Flattery, Finn … it will get you food from me anytime,” said Margery. She was actually
pleased to have a visitor. She quite enjoyed Finn. She tossed some strips of pork and a small vanilla bun at him. He hopped onto the counter and began to eat.

  “It may storm later,” said Finn.

  “Good. We could use a rain.”

  “Almost a warm chill to the air,” said Finn.

  “Perhaps we will be having a dry rain,” she smiled at him. “What has you so set this evening? You almost look happy … excited.”

  “The Baron has visitors it seems,” said Finn.

  “The Baron always has visitors. What is it to you, though?” she asked.

  She knew before he even spoke. Margery had known him for far too long to have to guess at his thoughts. He wasn’t her son, but he would do.

  “I met a woman. She's from the isles. I didn’t ask but probably the coast of Hythor,” said Finn.

  “And …”

  “Her name is Nylah. She had … beautiful green eyes. I’ve never seen such green,” Finn said to Margery, as much as to himself.

  “Ah … go on,” Margery filled two wooden cups with apple wine for them.

  “She wanted to see the mew. We ended up talking about much more. It's strange. She's the first free person to speak to me … as a person … an equal.” The wine had a light sprinkling of cinnamon. It warmed Finn’s face.

  “So you saw a highborn woman with beautiful green eyes, did you? She was smitten with you, Finn. No highborn woman wants to see birds squawking about. She wanted to talk with you. At least it seems you made the most of the encounter” Margery said, as she laughed and tossed a piece of dough at him.

  “Ha. Maybe you’re right. I never even considered it. I’m in servitude to a king I’ve never met and smitten with a highborn who leaves tomorrow,” Finn said, as he drank the last of his wine.

  “I didn’t mean it like that, Finn. It was a jest is all,” Margery said. She drew him close putting both her warm hands against his face. Finn looked down. “Look at my eyes, boy.” He looked up. “I serve just as you. I haven’t a husband nor a child.”

  “The fault isn’t of your own,” Finn felt shame creep up his throat.

  “This is true. The king is at fault ... but, I am as much at fault. I have taken what I was given,” she said.

  “You had no choice,” replied Finn.

  “I’m here. I could have left. There are places beyond the reach of a king,” she whispered.

  “Please, Margery. I’m sorry,” said Finn. He looked around to ensure no one had heard her. Tongues were removed for far less.

  “You deserve more,” her eyes became moist, “you deserve a young lady with green eyes … and a home with children.”

  “I have you,” said Finn. He felt his face go flush.

  “That you do, love,” she said, kissing his forehead. Margery’s heart felt heavy with regret for them both. Perhaps, in another life she would be his mother and he her son. They could see the realms in all their glory as free folk, however, not in this life. This life was different … much different. “Come, forgive me … let’s have more wine. I want to hear more about this highborn woman.”

  Finn smiled at her. He hoisted himself up on the thick wooden counter. It caused a cloud of dough and flour to lift into the air. Margery turned to get what remained of the apple wine.

  “We haven’t met the king,” he whispered coyly, “but we can drink his wine.”

  “Ah … that we can …” said Margery.

  Suddenly the room lit up in white light. Margery dropped the bottle. It crashed against the stone floor.

  “Was that lightning?” said Finn.

  His eyes slowly adjusted back to the dimness of the cabin. Thunder began to shake the earth. It was as if they were in the thundercloud themselves. The noise echoed and rang out so loud it caused their eyes to squint. The thunder continued to rumble like a starving beast deep within the ground.

  “Do you hear that?” asked Margery. “Something in the thunder …”

  Finn could hear it too. It was raining now. However, the thunder still persisted. It was as if a beast with its long tail was scraping the earth in its wake. The constant rumble filled the night. What kind of thunder never stops? Finn felt a cold fear creep into his mind.

  It isn’t just thunder …

  “Finn, what is it?” asked Margery.

  “Douse your oven!” said Finn, as he grabbed her by the arm.

  “What?” asked Margery.

  “Kill the flame!” yelled Finn.

  Finn ran to the window and looked out into the courtyard.

  Riders … an army.

  He could make out the shapes of horses and figures riding atop them. The shadows of spears and long axes.

  What army rides with a storm at its feet?

  He had never fought for the King nor rode to war. He hunted the king’s forests for deer and boar. He was a falconer. He had never killed a man and didn’t know if he could.

  “What is it?” Margery whispered. There was a palpable fear in her voice.

  “Riders. I can only see their shadows,” said Finn. He knew he had to keep her calm.

  “What do we do?” asked Margery.

  “We stay inside and be quiet. They will worry about the castle guard and the village militia. We can wait to see how …,” said Finn.

  Suddenly, thunder clasped the night sky once again. For a brief moment all was lit.

  This is no army.

  Margery was now at the window with Finn. She gasped at the sight of them. Finn grabbed her, covering her cries with his hand.

  “Ssssh. Margery, you must stay quiet!” he whispered, looking directly at her eyes. She was like a wounded animal. She had to run or scream. There was no understanding of her surroundings.

  She will get us both killed.

  “Gorgons! They are gorgons. Gorgons, Finn!” she cried.

  “We must stay quiet. They will still have others to worry about. We must remain still and quiet,” said Finn, as he gently let go of her. “I need to look once more.” He needed to know if they were truly safe for the moment.

  Gorgons will take this castle, the village, and all with it.

  “No. They might see,” she whimpered.

  Finn crouched down on his knees; he made his way to the window. The thunder continued to rumble and wake the night.

  Gorgons … walking snakes.

  He looked through the corner of the window.

  It’s dark inside. They cannot see. They will not see.

  Lightning lit the sky. He saw them. An army of gorgons clad in shadowed mail and soaked leather. Some had axes but most had spears and shields. Their thickly scaled skin was a deep black with a pale gray underbelly. The scales pulled tightly over their hulking frame. He could not see their eyes. They were too black. The gorgons were larger than men. Their bodies were like knotted ropes of thick muscle. The gorgon’s heads were round, almost like an ape. Their mouths were full of jagged yellowish teeth. A tail extended from the back of their tunics and wrapped tightly around one of their legs. It was rough with dirt and wear. Small spikes coated it like a blanket of nails.

  Gorgons … walking snakes.

  It was all Finn could think of. This was not supposed to happen. Gorgons had been gone for centuries.

  They are clearly back.

  In a brief flash, the lightning was gone and the darkness coated the intruders once again. Finn sank down against the wall.

  “We must leave here … at once,” said Finn.

  Death had descended upon the castle and all around it. Finn was certain that the cabin walls could not keep it out. Margery nodded with tears welling in her eyes.

  “Pack what food is here but be silent about it,” he ordered.

  “Please don’t let them in, Finn,” said Margery. She was losing her nerve. He knew they had to hurry.

  “I won’t. Hurry now. I will watch the door,” whispered Finn.

  If they enter what will I do? I will die. We will both die.

  There were screams in the distance.
The sounds of arms clashing mixed with moans of death. The darkness began to harbor some light. The flickering of flames could be seen.

  The village is burning.

  Smoke began to layer the air around them. The kindling of flames could be heard on the roof. It was like someone slowly crunching a scroll or parchment into a ball. The window crashed. An arrow landed against the far wall. It was greased with oil and burning. Fire fell off it in drips.

  They are burning the village.

  Margery let out a startled gasp.

  “Hurry, they are burning the grounds. We need to go,” said Finn.

  “Do they see us?” asked Margery.

  “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I think they’re firing arrows to burn everything. Still, we must hurry. The cabin will burn quickly,” said Finn.

  “They will see us,” she said, frozen with fear.

  “We will burn in here,” said Finn. He grabbed her and the satchel of food she had packed. “At least we will have a chance … we’ll have to run. Do you understand?”

  “Yes,” said answered.

  “Ok. Stay close,” Finn said, as he slowly opened the door. “Don’t shout … just follow.”

  The smell of smoke and burning flesh permeated the air. He grabbed Margery’s arm and began to run south, away from the castle and the village.

  We need to get to the woods. Clear of the chaos.

  Shadows were in the distance, but Finn couldn’t make out if they were friend or foe. The thunder continued to shake the earth. They stayed close to the sides of the buildings to keep concealed. Air suddenly whistled passed Finn. It almost burned his cheeks. He didn’t know they were arrows until they thudded into an adjacent building.