Thirty-Four

 

When Vasco reached Bianca's side, it was already too late to stop her from seeing the horror no one should ever be subjected to. The corpse-strewn beach had bodies in various states of decay, from scattered bones to a cadaver so fresh the flesh the crows ripped off it was still red and moist. No, not crows – ravens, he corrected himself. He counted a dozen of them picking at the corpse, which still wore the tatters of clothing in a particularly brilliant shade of pink.

He knew the expression on her face all too well. Every soldier viewing a battlefield for the first time looked like that. But she was no soldier. Why, the princess had probably never seen blood that was not her own until today.

"Princess," he whispered.

No response. Her mouth gaped, but no sound came out.

He prayed she would forgive him for the liberty. "Bee. Look away."

She blinked. Once. Twice. Then she turned and flung herself into his arms, pressing her face against his chest. Sobs shook her body. "No. All those men."

He eyed the pink-clad body. "Women, too, I think. One of them wore pink silk."

Bianca shook her head violently. "No. I remember that tunic. The foolish adventurer who came before you wore that. He's dead, Vasco. Dead because my sisters wanted to go dancing! And if we do not stop it, you will be next!"

"I should have died when the rest of my village was slaughtered. Yet here I stand. We all must die sometime." The words slipped out before he could stop them.

She squinted up at him. "How can you be so calm? There are dead bodies on that beach. Have you killed so many people that you no longer care when someone dies?"

Vasco sighed. "I do care. In my dreams, I see the faces of everyone I knew who has died, while I yet live. Every enemy soldier I have killed. Every brother in arms who died at my side when an enemy sword took them instead of me. Every man, woman and child in my village, whose bodies burned with the village itself. Eudokia...my Dokia...who agreed to meet me one evening by the river. We were betrothed, but the wedding could not come soon enough for us, and there was no privacy in the village. A scouting party found us, too engrossed in each other to notice the men until they were upon us. One knocked me out, and the others..." Vasco swallowed, blinking back tears. "They left me for dead, and when I woke, they had thrown her body atop mine. She was naked, and they had done unspeakable things to her before they killed her while I lay senseless and useless. I should have saved her."

Bianca clapped a hand to her mouth. "Ancestors, I am so sorry! That poor girl. What did you do then?"

"I took what little was left in the village of value, and traded it for arms and equipment when I joined the army. I trained hard and vowed to fight for those who still had their homes and their families, because I could not fight for my own. I became a soldier, living only for vengeance, until one day that was not enough. That day, I took an arrow in the knee that dwells there still." He shook his head. "I should not have let you see this. No woman should see this. Dokia's spirit would never forgive me if I let you and your sisters join this graveyard. I will do anything I have to in order to save you from this fate."

As though the creature had heard him, one of the ravens lifted its head and fixed a beady eye on Vasco. The creature appeared to have a band of greyish feathers around its head, like a kind of crown. It made a menacing sound low in its throat. The other birds looked up from their meal, their beaks still red with gore. As one, they turned to stare at Vasco. The menace emanating from them was unmistakeable.

"Bianca..." he said softly. "Princess, we need to go."

One of the birds extended its wings and started to run toward them.

"Now." Vasco threw his cloak around his shoulders, scooped her up in his arms, and ran. "Fasten the cloak," he urged her. "Then they won't be able to see us."

The first bird had made it into the air, and it took advantage of its height to dive at them. Vasco felt claws scrabble at his hood, but they didn't seem to be able to grab a hold of it.

Bianca's pale arm rose up, her hand clenched into a fist, and she punched the raven. The bird squawked and fell away, but not without raking its claws over her hand.

She didn't cry out. Instead, she brought her bleeding finger to her mouth. "Get us to the boat. I'll take care of the birds."

Vasco didn't have the breath to argue. His wounded leg screamed at him, but nothing mattered more than keeping Bianca safe.

He set her down on the bench, wrapped his cloak around her, and shoved the boat away from the beach. He jumped in, taking a seat on the bench beside her, and plied the oars.

Only when they reached open water did she seem to recover a little. She arranged the cloak over them both, tucking herself against his side. "The boat might be visible, but they won't see us," she said with quiet confidence.

Vasco scanned the sky, but he couldn't see the birds any more. "I think they're gone."

"Not gone. They just can't find us while we travel unseen. Did you see the crowns on their heads?" She sounded so calm.

"You mean the light coloured feathers?"

"Crowns," she corrected. "Each one was slightly different. Just like the ones the princes wore last night. And there were twelve of them. Dark magic clings to them like mist. Those were not normal birds."

"Ravens are meant to be very intelligent. I have heard tales of wise men who kept them as pets. Perhaps your princes do the same." Vasco didn't believe a word of it. Those ravens were on the beach for the carrion feast spread across the black sand.

"Those birds are not pets," she said. "They knew you would be their next meal." She swallowed. "Vasco, what if those birds are the princes? Carrion crows by day, and charming men by night? My sisters...my sisters are in danger. You must go to the king and tell him. Tell him what you have found. Cursed princes trying to seduce his daughters to their deaths. Take the ring from my finger, and take my horse. Ride to the capital. You must." She swallowed again, fighting to keep her eyes open. "I will warn my sisters and try to keep them away from the island. You must tell my father."

Vasco glanced down. She slumped against him. Asleep or unconscious, he wasn't sure, but it mattered little. However crazy her thoughts sounded, they tallied with his own. He must ride for the capital, trusting no one but the king himself. For Bianca, he would do anything.

He rowed the boat to the boatshed, where he dragged it out of the water. In the shadows, he saw the shapes of many small boats – the pleasure boats they'd used last night. The princes used the palace's own boats! Then that meant...

The Lord Steward truly was in league with them.

"Princess, you must wake. I can't leave you here with him. Not if he is at the heart of this," Vasco said, but Bianca's eyes stayed shut. Frustrated, he lifted her in his arms and carried her up to the house. She did not even wake when he laid her on her own bed, and pulled off her boots. He didn't dare remove anything else.

He watched her for a moment, but there was nothing he could do here. It would be a long, hard ride to the capital – and it would take much longer if he carried the unconscious princess with him. He must go now, alone, for it was the fastest way to save her from the clutches of the Lord Steward and his pet ravens, or princes, or whatever they were. Demons, surely.

"Stay safe, princess, and don't leave this room until I return," he whispered. Planting a quick kiss on her forehead, he turned and strode out of the room.