A rush of leaves and the lurching sensation of a sudden upwards motion told Adahy they had reached the forest, his father presumably using the tree branches to swing them, quelling the speed of their fall. After a rough bump and a gruff, “We are here,” Adahy opened his eyes to find himself at the Corvae shrine.
As the main religious site of his people, Adahy had been to this building many times before. The shrine lacked the solid stone structure of the Eyrie, borrowing more from the cob and brick village houses, but used those materials in a much more ambitious construction. The main wing of the building was three times the height of a home in most Corvae villages, and it was roofed with slate instead of thatch. Several smaller constructions that bore more resemblance to the traditional cottage were connected to the main hall, presumably living quarters for the priests. His father walked past the guards at the main entrance, expecting Adahy to follow at his heels.
The interior of the shrine was dark. The light of the many candles cast shadows from the sculptures that littered the hall. Incense soaked the air, giving the empty space in the room a heavy feel. Habitually, Adahy’s eyes were drawn to the wooden carvings that dominated the walls of the shrine, each showing a separate tale of the Magpie King’s past exploits. How the first Magpie King had chosen the forest for his people’s home. The deceit of Artemis causing the Magpie King to cast him out of the Eyrie. When the outsiders had come into the forest to hide from the horrors of the world, turning the Corvae from a family into a people. These were stories Adahy had grown up with, that his father had diligently relayed to him night after night, always checking that the young prince could remember and understand each tale. Adahy had loved the journey into these worlds of adventure, but had hated the pressure that had been put upon him to commit them to memory.
Three robed priests were kneeling before a wooden sculpture at the back of the hall, a pole consisting of Magpies standing atop of one another, reaching to the roof of the shrine. Up there in the darkness, black things shuffled in their sleep. The floors of the shrine had to be cleaned regularly.
“Leave us.” This was aimed at the priests.
Taking a glance at their sovereign, they bowed and exited by one of the hall’s side doors. When they were alone, the Magpie King took off his cowl, becoming Adahy’s father again.
“I won’t be able to do it, Father. You saw me last night. And, for the first time, I saw you. How can you expect someone who can shame themselves the way that I did to move and fight like you can?”
The large man did not walk to his son, but instead wandered around the shrine interior, gazing at the wooden carvings on the wall. “What do you know of the Magpie King’s power? How can I do the things that I do?”
Adahy raised his eyes to the ceiling as he recalled the facts from the stories of his childhood. “Deep in the forest, when the first Magpie King was more in need of help than ever before, the Great Magpie came with a black flower in its beak. Consuming the flower blessed our line, giving us speed, strength, unnatural reflexes. None of which have passed on to me.”
His father paused and turned to look at Adahy. “That is not the true story. That is the story all other Corvae are told, but our family has another version, the truth.”
Adahy’s brow creased in curiosity, but he did not interrupt the flow of his father’s tale.
“Our line was blessed, this is true, but not with the power you speak of. We were given a resistance. A resistance to the poison of the flower.” The king moved closer to his son now, his voice lowering to hide his words from surrounding ears. “I had the same fears as you, at your age. That is when my father told me that each Magpie King has to seek the flower for himself. Consuming it would turn any other man mad, its venom burning through their blood and their mind, but not our family. This is how I can do what I do when I walk the night. You too will find the flower to become king.”
Adahy’s mind was buzzing with this revelation. All those years he had spent feeling unworthy of his title because this final fact had been kept from him. “How... where is the flower?”
At this question, his father walked forward and clasped his son’s head in his two great hands. “You already know where it is. The information is locked away in here. Your final test is to find that information, and then find the flower. Once you have done that, the two of us will walk the night together, and we can rid the forest of this plague of Wolves.”
Keeping his grip on Adahy’s head, the Magpie King lowered himself onto his knees, bringing himself to the prince’s eye level. “Son, this is a quest for you, and you alone. You must do this by yourself, I cannot help. Do you understand?”
Adahy nodded his head dumbly.
Suddenly, the shrine door crashed open.
“Sire, they are here. The Eyrie is-”
The guard who uttered the warning disappeared back into the doorway from which he had come, pulled by an unseen force. Then the door burst open, a flood of Wolves rushing through it.
“Artemis’ bones,” swore Adahy’s father, in one movement mounting his cowl and pulling his son to him.
The first Wolf leapt at the Magpie King, blood-stained claws flashing to catch him whilst he was vulnerable, without his sickles. The man grabbed the monster by its throat, and with a noise similar to the tearing of wet fabric he used both hands to pull its neck free from its body. Throwing the animal down, Adahy could see his father calculating the severity of their situation. There were about a dozen more Wolves in the building now, some advancing at the pair directly, but others skulking around the hall, looking to cut off all possibility of escape. Without his son to protect, Adahy was confident that his father would have faced these monsters head on, but would he be able to fight them and ensure that Adahy came to no harm? Screams from outside told the prince they would receive no aid from the shrine’s guards, and also that more enemies were close by. He could see no chance of escape.
Grabbing Adahy by his collar, the Magpie King leapt once again, this time upwards into the blackness of the rafters. Naturally, the Corvae shrine was home to a tiding of magpies, encouraged and cultured by generations of priests. As much kinship as the Corvae felt with the animals, the black and white birds remained wild and could not cope with the presence of two humans in their nest. With a cacophony of squawks and screams the birds flew forth, some making for holes in the rooftop, but most rushing towards the largest exit they could find - the front door. As the Magpie King had planned, he leapt down with the swarm of blackness, sheltered from his predators by the shock of an avian exodus. Adahy marvelled at his father’s ingenuity, wondering if that too was a gift from the flower that had turned him into the Magpie King.
Once outside, his father leapt towards the trees, his monochrome cloak billowing out behind him as they escaped the frustrated howls of the Wolves. The Magpie King’s speed was more than a match for his enemies now that he was in the treetops, and soon Adahy felt that immediate danger was behind them.
“Father, the priests. Should we not head back to help them?”
The Magpie King’s metal beak turned to regard his son, the black iron glinting in the moonlight. “We both know they are already dead. You saw how many Wolves there were. Our guard was not prepared to defend against such numbers.”
Adahy could only agree. “The guard, the first one, he spoke of the Eyrie. Do you think they could be in danger?”
His father raised his head to regard the fortress on the cliffs high above them. “If I was to attack my enemy, I would strike at the heart of their operations before taking out outlying fortifications. We can only assume the Eyrie has already fallen.”
The prince did his best to quell his rising panic, steeling himself to think like a leader. “But will the Wolves be thinking like that? I did not think that there was much planning behind their attacks.”
His father nodded in approval at Adahy’s statement. “An hour ago, I would have agreed with you. But we have already seen more organisation from them than I ever thoug
ht was possible.”
As his father took his first leap towards the cliffs, Adahy could only hope that the Eyrie and his family and friends could hold off attack better than the shrine did. After all, they did have more soldiers up there.
Clinging to his father’s back, Adahy’s heart was in his throat as the Magpie King bounded upwards, his massive hands finding purchase in what appeared to be a sheer cliff face. The knowledge that his father’s physical attributes were not natural had somehow lessened Adahy’s fear of his own inadequacies. He no longer expected himself to be capable of the feats he had seen his father perform, confident in the knowledge that he would inherit them when he solved the riddle of the flower. Adahy’s fear now came from what he expected to find when he reached home, from the fates of his household. He may not have the body of a Magpie King yet, but Adahy was now determined to face his fear of conflict head on, and vowed to do all he could to help liberate his home.
Upon reaching the castle foundations, the Magpie King took several more bounds to bring them both to the roof. The Wolves were not unaware of their enemy’s capabilities, and three of them were prowling in the area that Adahy’s father landed on. The first was easily dealt with, as the Magpie King grabbed it by the scruff of its neck and hurled it into the abyss behind them. Unfortunately, the monster’s screams alerted its remaining companions to the fact that they were no longer alone. These two posed more of a problem, quickly moving to circle the Magpie King and his son, making sure to remain at opposite sides of the King. The animals had realised Adahy’s vulnerability, forcing his father to stay his hand from an attack that would leave Adahy open to the remaining Wolf.
The two animals howled, presumably to attract reinforcements. With time not on their side, Adahy cursed the fact that his own uselessness would be their undoing. In fact…
If my father does not need to protect me, then their advantage is lost. The young prince took a deep breath, furrowed his brow and ran directly at one of the Wolves. The Wolf’s animalistic instincts came into play and it leapt towards the oncoming prey. Unfortunately for it, the Magpie King was faster, and he bounded over his son, in one movement turning to face the other Wolf behind him whilst breaking his son’s assailant’s neck with a wet crunch. The remaining animal turned to flee, but only made a few feet before it was caught too, silently dispatched by the Magpie King’s brutal hands.
“That was well done,” his father commented without turning his mask towards Adahy, but the boy could hear the smile in the Magpie King’s voice.
His heart, previously doing its best to escape from his rib cage due to panic and fear, now felt twice its size. I will do whatever possible to take back this castle, Adahy vowed silently.
They moved along in the darkness, coming into contact with no others on the roof. His father made Adahy wait for a few agonising seconds whilst he entered the window to his own chambers. Adahy spent most of that time spinning his head wildly, fully expecting to have a Wolf lunge at him at any moment. The Magpie King emerged shortly with his twin sickles, now properly armed for battle.
“The throne room,” he said in a gravelly voice. “We shall find the strongest resistance there, if any are left.”
They crept across the slates again, Adahy amazed at how difficult traversing this environment had been only hours ago. They came to a pair of ornate ceiling windows. These looked down onto the Magpie King’s throne room, where Adahy and his father could see a huddled mass of nobles and soldiers. All eyes in the room were on the great doors that were the main entranceway into the chamber. They had been barricaded by tables and chairs, and the wooden mass in front of the doors was shuddering under what Adahy assumed were the Wolves trying to get through from the other side.
“They live,” Adahy exclaimed, stating the obvious in his excitement at sighting more of his people.
“Indeed. Now there is hope,” his father replied. The dark figure paused, then continued, “My son, I need you to do something for me.”
“Anything, Father.”
Another pause, and this time the Magpie King chose to remove his helmet to look the boy in his eyes. “You saw how my worry for your safety nearly undid us both? I cannot risk you like that a second time.”
“Father?”
“I go now to save our people, but I cannot do so and worry about my only son. You must stay here -”
“No.”
The Magpie King put out his hand to stop his son’s outburst. “You have done me proud this night. You have proven you have our family’s gift, and you shall be a great warrior, in time. Do not waste that gift by walking into death now. Men will die tonight, and their loss will be great, but not as great as the loss of our next Magpie King.”
Soberly, Adahy nodded his agreement.
“Now I must go to make you proud.” And with that, Adahy’s father opened one of the window panes and dropped down to his people below.
The Magpie King’s arrival was met by great cheers from the survivors, and Adahy felt a pang of jealousy that he was not also receiving those cries. From the body language of the commanding officer’s explanation of the situation and his father’s subsequent commands, Adahy gathered that the men and women in this room were barricaded in, and as far as they were aware no other survivors remained. The Magpie King ordered the soldiers to flank the barricaded doorway, but he alone stood in the middle of the room, twin sickles held menacingly in a ready position.
“Open the doors.” His father’s command rang loud enough for it to clearly reach Adahy’s ears. Men at arms quickly pulled aside the furniture and the pounding of the Wolves did the rest. The doors splintered open and a wave of fur and teeth poured in. A few of the beasts sidestepped out of the doorway, assuming to slink off down the sides of the room to flank their main opponent. This was why the soldiers had been positioned there. Not expecting as much resistance, these Wolves were quickly cut down by the spearmen working in unison.
The majority of the horde flew at the Magpie King, who stood between the animals and the cowering nobles sheltered at the back. Adahy’s father flashed his sickles, conducting a symphony of death as animal after relentless animal fell before him. Adahy found himself unable to follow any individual movements. Only the bodies that began to pile up at his father’s feet gave any indication of the king’s success. Every now and again a Wolf did break free. These monsters made straight for the women and children at the back of the room. A few guards remained stationed there for such an event, but these mere men could only cope with so much. Soon the human bodies began to pile up.
Then the attack stopped. The exhausted cheering from the survivors below echoed the relief in Adahy’s heart, but this relief proved to be short lived. The cheering was quickly overshadowed by a deathly groaning noise, which Adahy eventually realised to be a howl. This noise was unlike anything that any of the Wolves had emitted.
Adahy found himself straining over the edge of the room to get a look at the scene below. The unnatural howl had caused panic among the few surviving nobles, and many of the guardsmen joined the craven lords in scrabbling at the window openings set in the stone walls, clearly too narrow for any human to feasibly fit through. Only Adahy’s father stood firm in the centre, using his commanding voice to shout orders to the remaining soldiers at the door. However, even he took a step backwards when the creature that emitted that awful sound finally stepped into the room.
It was a Wolf, clearly, but unlike any Adahy had seen so far. Such was its enormity, it entered through the throne room doorway on all fours, but rose to its full height once inside. The beast was twice as tall as any of the other Wolves, and eight distended teats hanging from its chest told Adahy this was a female. A mother. The remaining Wolves followed the mother, using the distraction of her monstrous appearance to quickly overpower the soldiers at the door, diving onto them and feeding in an orgy of blood and gristle. With their way now clear, the horde began to move around the walls of the room, but with a grating growl the mother seemed to
warn them to stop. Either she did not want to lose any more of her children to the Magpie King, or she wanted this fight for herself. She hunched down, back on all fours, and growled a challenge to Adahy’s father.
The Magpie King was first to strike. At her invitation he leapt forward, using his supernatural speed to dip under the Wolf mother’s massive arms and cut a messy red line across her torso. However, he was unprepared for her survival of the attack, and the speed of her reprisal. She caught the Magpie King with a backhand blow, dislodging his mask from his head and sent the man tumbling into the throng of creatures that now surrounded the combat. Where he landed, a frenzy of activity sparked, the animals rushing forward to claim a piece of their most hated foe. The mother barked at her children to move away from her prey, and they grudgingly obeyed, but Adahy could already see the damage had been done. Through some miracle, his father remained standing, but his face was now a mess of blood, running from innumerable wounds on his head and into his eyes. Both sickles remained in his hands, but his right arm hung weakly at his side, reminding Adahy of how he felt when trying to heft one of those great weapons. The young prince wanted to scream, to do something to help his father, but no actions came to him, other than the salty tears that streamed down his face.
The Wolf mother slowly approached, and when she was within reach, the Magpie King gave a desperate swipe of the sickle in his left hand. The monster easily caught the man’s wrist, and with a flick of her own snapped the bones in his arm in two. The sickle dropped to the floor, the clang of iron meeting stone drowned out by the scream of pain from Adahy’s father. The Wolf mother lifted her own head, accompanying the man’s shouts with a victory howl of her own, and then snapped her jaws shut on the man’s neck, severing skin, sinew and bone.
The Magpie King was dead.
An extract from the teachings of the High Corvae.
The Yarnsworld Collection: A fantasy boxset Page 5