The Broken Raven

by Joseph Elliott

  I run at the man and I hit him in his face with my hand that is a fist. Ouch! It hurts a very lot to do it but I think it hurts the chief of Raasay man more. He is holding his face near his nose and it is bleeding.

  “Agatha, stop it!” says Aileen, but I can’t and I won’t.

  I kick to his legs but it doesn’t get them. Someone is grabbing and holding me then and I am pulled away.

  “I h-hate you!” I shout at him. “You made the deamhain come. You made them k-kill all the elders.”

  The chief of Raasay man spits a blood spit on the ground.

  “You stupid girl. Have you ever stopped to think why we did what we did? Of course you haven’t. Do you even know the truth? This island was ours, girl, long before it was yours. That’s right: your ancestors came from the mainland and took it from us — forced us into exile. My people lost everything that day: their homes, their way of life, their hope. This island has always been ours; all we have done is reclaim it.”

  “It’s not true,” I say. “You’re horrible and you’re — lying.”

  “Believe me or not, I really don’t care, but it is the truth,” says the chief of Raasay man. “The history of your people is stained with the suffering of others.” He presses his fingers on his nostrils where blood is then says to the people around us, “Lock them away until we decide what to do with them. And the rest of you, get back to your posts in case this is some sort of diversion.”

  “Wait!” says Aileen. “You have to believe us; the sgàilean are coming — tonight!”

  “I want Lileas’s parents!” I shout while they are taking me away. “Hector! Edme! Where are they? They are the nice ones.”

  No one answers me or speaks to me except for the one that is holding me who says, “Get inside, you good-for-nothing rat-flea,” when he pushes me into a bothan. Aileen is pushed in too and then the door closes and we are alone.

  It is a very small bothan with nothing in it and the window has bars. It is a prison one. I bang the door and shake it but it is locked. I shake on the window bars as well but they are stuck and won’t come out. I am tired from doing it and my jaw is sore on both sides from all the shaking. I sit down on the floor.

  “Well, that could have gone better,” says Aileen. She turns her head to look at me. “Remember the part where I said I should do the talking?”

  “Yes, I remember that,” I say. I do not know why she wants me to remember that. I do not want to be in here and I am cold. I put my head in my hands. I am angry and I am sad. “They should have said thank you to us for telling them about the shadow things,” I say. “Not put us in the prison and locked it.”

  “Maybe they forgot their manners when you called them stupid?” says Aileen. “Or when you punched their chief in the face?”

  That is maybe true. “He is a bad man and I’m glad that I did it,” I say.

  I think Aileen will be cross but she smiles at me instead.

  “You landed a good blow,” she says. “And he definitely deserved it.” She sits next to me and puts her arm around me. I do not make her move because she is being nice.

  “It was b-bad to come here — wasn’t it?” I say to Aileen.

  “No, it was very brave,” she says.

  “I am brave,” I say.

  I take Milkwort out and he runs around the room. He will only need a small hole to escape but I will need a big one or a door.

  “It’s not true, is it? What the chief of Raasay man said about them l-living on this — island?” I ask to Aileen.

  “It would have been a very long time ago if they did,” says Aileen. “It’s true our ancestors came from the mainland, but I always assumed the island was uninhabited when they arrived. Either way, it doesn’t excuse the fact that the chiefs of Raasay allowed our people to be murdered and enslaved.”

  That is true but also I don’t know how to think about it all and I don’t know. Aileen picks up a small stone and flicks it at the window. It hits one of the bars with a ting noise and then it goes out.

  “You were right, by the way,” says Aileen. “Earlier, when you said I was lying. I was.”

  “What?” I say.

  “I was lying about the Hawks seeing you and about slipping past the Moths.”

  I knew she was lying. “I knew you were,” I say.

  “The Moth let me past at Maistreas Eilionoir’s request. After the meeting this morning she took me to one side and asked me to keep an eye on you.”

  “You were s-spying on me?” Spying is what you do to enemy people, not to hero people.

  “Not spying exactly. Just watching over. It’s because she cares about you. She could see you were upset about what happened with the sgàilean.”

  “It wasn’t my — fault!” I say.

  “I know it wasn’t.”

  Neither of us says anything after that. Milkwort comes back to me. He doesn’t like the prison room either. He crawls into my pocket where it is warm.

  Aileen gets up and goes to the window. “Why won’t these bloody meirlich listen to us? Hello! Hello! Is anyone there? You have to believe us: sgàilean are coming. They’re going to attack you. We came here to warn you!” She shouts again and more for a long time until she has an old-lady voice from too much shouting.

  No one comes. She sits on the floor again. It’s getting darker. The shadow things will be here soon. It is so cold and I am shivering. All my clothes are wet from the rain and so is my hair. I move closer to Aileen and give her a hug. She hugs me too. Hugs are nice when you are sad and wet with rain.

  I think again about what Maistreas Eilionoir said that my birth father is a foreigner man. It keeps remembering me. I want to say to Aileen about it but it is not dùth to do that so it stays in my head.

  “Hello?” says a person in a whisper voice.

  I stand up quick. So does Aileen. There is someone at the window with the bars. Two people.

  “Who — who are you?” I ask.

  “We shouldn’t be here,” says the lady one.

  “We heard you were asking for us,” says the man one.

  I know who they are then. “Hector!” I say. “And — and Edme?”

  “Yes,” says the lady one who is Lileas’s mother who is Edme. “Please, how is our daughter? Is she okay?”

  Oh. They do not know. I didn’t think that they wouldn’t know. I don’t want to tell them. I shake my head fast because I cannot speak it.

  “What? What is it? Please tell us,” says Hector who is Lileas’s father.

  “We’re really sorry. . . .” says Aileen.

  “No . . . no . . .” says Lileas’s mother Edme. She is the one shaking her head now.

  “It was the nasty d-deamhan man. I tried to — I tried to stop him. Lileas was my friend. I tried to stop him. It wasn’t — it wasn’t my — fault,” I say.

  Lileas’s mother Edme makes a loud sound that is wailing. I have never seen big crying like that. Lileas’s father Hector puts his arm around her and she cries into his chest. She should not cry. It is not dùth. Doesn’t she know that? It is because she is sad and I am sad too but I do not cry.

  “They promised us she wouldn’t get hurt,” Lileas’s father Hector says in a small voice. “The chiefs promised us.”

  He isn’t talking to me. I don’t know who he is talking to. Lileas’s mother Edme slides down onto the ground so it is harder to see her. She is still crying.

  Lileas’s father Hector wipes his eyes with his fingers. “I . . . I don’t know what to . . . My precious little girl . . .” He wipes his eyes again and then squeezes the top of his nose. He makes a “huh” sound and does a big swallow. “We have been wronged,” he says, “and so have you. This is all so, so wrong. We should never have . . . Believe me when I say we are truly sorry for what happened to your people. We knew nothing of what the chiefs had planned, about the deal they’d made with the deamhain. The way this place was taken from you was wrong, and we are not the only ones who feel that way.”

  “Then can
you help us? We need to get out of here before it gets dark,” says Aileen.

  Lileas’s father Hector shakes his head. “It’s impossible. There’s only one key and no way for us to obtain it. And if they found out we’d helped you escape . . . Even talking to you is putting our lives in danger.”

  “We need to go,” says Lileas’s mother Edme. The words are crying ones.

  “Wait,” says Aileen. “We’re here to warn you. There’s something coming, something dangerous.” She tells them about the shadow things and that they need to make the fire.

  “Have you told the chiefs?” asks Lileas’s father Hector.

  “They won’t listen to us,” says Aileen.

  “They are — stupid,” I say.

  Lileas’s mother Edme sniffs in some tears and stands back up. “You came all this way to warn us?” she says. “After what our people did to you? Why?”

  “It was Agatha’s idea,” says Aileen.

  “Lileas t-told me about you,” I say. “She said you were kind so I didn’t — I didn’t want you to be — hurt.”

  “You have a good soul, Agatha,” says Lileas’s father Hector. “Just like our daughter. I am so sorry we cannot help you further.”

  “Someone’s coming,” says Lileas’s mother Edme. She pulls Lileas’s father Hector away from the window. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Wait! Wait!” says Aileen. She presses her head into the bars in the window. “There must be a way. We’ll die in here.”

  Lileas’s parents are gone. Aileen shouts and bangs her fists on the bars but it won’t break them.

  “So that’s it? They’re just going to leave us here?” says Aileen.

  I don’t know if it is a question for me or not so I nod my head and shake my head a little bit at the same time.

  Aileen goes next to the door. She touches it all over and bangs at parts with her hand and her elbow. It is dark in the prison room now. I think it is nearly nighttime.

  “Are we going to die in here?” I ask Aileen. I want to know it but I am not afraid.

  “No,” she says. “We’ll find a way out. Maybe the sgàilean won’t have traveled this far north yet. It was a long way, after all. Maybe they stayed around Clann-na-Bruthaich’s enclave. Tomorrow we can talk to the Raasay chiefs again. We’ll explain and figure this out — ”

  Aileen stops hitting with her elbow. Her head tips up which is listening. She has heard something. Then I hear it too. The horrible noise. It’s the same one I heard on the ship and in the mountain room and when the necklace opened in Catriona’s bothan.

  It’s the shadow things. They’re here.

  We’re here.

  Ingland.

  It’s hek diffrunt to Norveg from what I’ve seen so far. The sea turned into a river and before long, shacks and buildins started tumblin over one another on the bankside. Lots of buildins, lots of people. Smells diffrunt and all, like fishrot and goatpuke.

  We reach a long wooden dock with lots of boats comin in and out and around it. Men on the dock pull our boat in and secure it. Evryone’s told they have to leave their weapons onboard. There’s some grumblin at that, and no one’s happy, but Konge Grímr ses it’s fine and they all gotta do it. He’s the first to take out his dagger and put it on the floor of the boat. Evryone does the same, puttin their weapons down too.

  I take Konge Grímr’s arm to guide him up the steps from the water to the street. When we’re at the top, there’s men waitin for us who are wearin the same clothes, and they pat us all over to make sure we haven’t got no more weapons. The one pattin the king is all “Your Majesty” this and “Your Majesty” that and “Welcome to Ingland,” and “accept my apologies,” and on and on. Then he ses, “I’m so sorry about your eyes,” and straightaways Konge Grímr headsmashes him with a rock-crackin smack. The man falls to the ground, cradling his battered head.

  Konge Grímr straightens his antler crown. “Do not mention my eyes,” he ses in the foreign tongue.

  “Forgive me, Your Majesty. Never again, Your Majesty,” ses the man from the ground.

  Konge Grímr asks me if I can understand what the man’s sayin. I tell him no. I don’t know why I lie. Truth is I understand him just fine. One of the books Granpa Halvor lent me had all the foreign tongue words in it alongside what the words meant in our language. He taught me the sounds of the letters and all. I read the book from front to back, so now I know all the words. Granpa was hek surprised afterward that I could remember evrythin. He opened the book at random and tested me again and again, and whatever word he said, I could tell him what it meant. He ses it’s not normal to see somethin only once and then remember it forever, but it’s normal to me.

  We follow the guards away from the river and Konge Grímr squeezes my head as we’re walkin, which means he wants me to describe it to him. He hasn’t been to Ingland before neither.

  “It’s the most skit awful place I ever saw,” I say.

  He huffs a quick laugh when I say that. “I guessed as much from the smell. Tell me more.”

  “Evryone’s grubby, there’s shitmuck smearin the houses, mangy dogs are lyin dead or dyin . . . The people look strange. No one’s got any ink. They’re all starin at us. Well, mainly at you, I think.”

  “How do they look when they see me?”

  “I dunno. A little bit scared, a little bit awe.”

  There’s a broken cart lyin slumped in our way. I pull Konge Grímr toward me so he doesn’t trip on it, then weave in and between the mud puddles. Bein honest, I don’t think it’s mud at all. Smells like somethin a lot worse than that . . .

  Bolverk walks on the other side of Konge Grímr, listenin to evry word I’m sayin. He’s always hangin close by, like he’s jealous if I’m closer to the king than he is. He doesn’t trust me none — I can tell from how he looks at me. Also, he told me as much, straight from his yapper, let’s not forget that. That’s fine; I don’t trust him neither. Not as far as I could spit him. I wonder what would’ve happened if I’d told the king it was him who took me from the cabin instead of the spruce-tree man. Would Konge Grímr have killed Bolverk instead? Probly not. He trusts him more than anyone. If I’d said it was Bolverk, maybe it would’ve been me gettin stabbed.

  “King Edmund’s palace is just up ahead,” ses one of the guards, so I guess that’s where we’re goin. King Edmund is the king of Ingland, so it makes sense that’s who Konge Grímr’s here to visit, I spose.

  I see the palace long before we reach it. It’s hard to miss. It’s the most bulkin buildin I ever saw, goin right up into the sky. All the buildins around it are skittin with muckgrime, but the palace is clean as if it’s lookin down on evryone else all superior like. There are guards evrywhere, dressed smart like the ones what brought us from the boat. Their hair’s cut short and they’re all of them men. I don’t know why the Inglish king hasn’t got no women guards. None of them have ink, but they’ve all got the same silver lynx pattern stitched on their clothes. Outside the palace, there’s pieces of material flappin on poles, and they’ve all got the lynx on them too. A silver lynx with red eyes. When it’s done in ink, the lynx means bringer of death. I wonder if they know that.

  Konge Grímr is squeezin my head again and again, so I keep on sayin evrythin I see like I’m sposed to, but he’s still squeezin evry two blinks. It’s hek skap when he does that. What more does he want me to say?

  The new guards check us for weapons again and there’s more pattin. The one pattin me even makes me stick out my tongue and looks in my ears. How big does he think my skittin ears are? Finally they nod their heads and let us through. I thought the outside of the palace was bulkin, but the inside’s even mightier.

  “We’re in a huge room with a hek high ceilin,” I say when Konge Grímr squeezes my kog for the skap thousandth time, “and lots of other rooms goin off it. There’s soft on the floor what’s colored red, and high up there’s a chain with candles in a circle to make light.” I try and say evrythin I see, even though there’s so gawkin
much of it.

  “If it would please you to proceed to the Feast Hall, His Majesty King Edmund will join you presently,” some man in tight clothin says to Konge Grímr, all the whiles bowin low to the floor, which is a waste since the king can’t see none anyways.

  “Of course,” ses Konge Grímr.

  We go through to another room what’s even bigger than the first one. I never knew a room could be this bulkin. There are hek loads of tables set out in six long lines, with fancy bowls and cups and other things on them, which I’m guessin are for eatin. I lead Konge Grímr to the chair which the man shows me is where he’s sposed to sit, right in the center of the table in the middle. The chair is the biggest I ever saw, with lynxes carved in its top. The wood smells like it’s fresh chopped. I say to Konge Grímr about the tables and the chair and the room. Bolverk sits in the chair next to him. I know sure as the moon that they’re not gunna let me sit on no chair, so I sit on the floor instead. All of the wreckers from our boat come in and so do lots of Inglish people. All of the Inglish people are men, though, makin me wonder where the Inglish women are. The Inglish men look at the female wreckers sittin at the tables like it’s hek strange them bein there.

  Soon there’s someone sittin in evry seat sept for the two on the right of Konge Grímr.

  “Please be upstanding for His Majesty King Edmund, and Her Royal Modesty the Lady Beatrice.”

  Evryone stands up. As Konge Grímr stands, he yanks on my chain, makin sure I’m standin too. I was gunna stand; he didn’t need to do no yankin.

  Comin through the door — and I can’t hardly believe it as I see it — is a bed, carried by eight of the men guards. It’s not no ordinary bed, though; it’s hek massive like evrythin else in this batcrazy place. Comin over the top of it is a carvin of another lynx what looks like it’s leapin across the bed but got frozen halfway. I swear Øden it musta taken a whole tree to make it. This Inglish king really likes his lynxes, that’s for hek sure.