Chapter 76: THE VOTE

Risens moved like a wraith through the streets. The sound of the solitary, drawn out cry only gave him general details of the direction. Cupping his hand to his mouth, he called for the conspiracy of ravens once more. They would aid his cause. The birds would be his eyes.

“Find her,” he hissed as the birds floated into view. With a single sharp response, they screeched as they pumped their wings, banking back into the sky. Against the blackened sky the dull yellow glow, the aura that surrounded them was clear. Again, one flew ahead, while the other remained close by circling him to ensure he was following the right course.

A few hundred meters down the main avenue, they cut to the right into a darkened alley. The muffled sounds of struggle were clear to his ears. They had assisted him well. The pair lead him to scene he desired without delay. The ravens alighted on the corner of a building, their attention focused on the commotion in the alley beyond. Their time was limited, yet he was hesitant to release them so soon. He expected he would need them again soon.

Glaring down the alley, the sight before his eyes turn his heart to stone. The fire that raged in his veins threatened to consume him.

It seemed that fates had drawn Risens and the youth together again. Her retreat into the night had only made it a few blocks before meeting a tragic end. Suspended by a lock of her hair she was held aloft by a man nearly twice her size. One of her hands grasped desperately at the straining locks, feverishly trying to relieve the pain. Her feet and the other arm lashed out wildly at the man behind her. 

As if he needed any further evidence, the jeers of the other men sealed their fates.

There were four of them in total. The one that held her was tall and slim yet easily overpowering the scrawny waif. Risens could tell from the faces of the others in the group that they were nearly as disheveled as she was. Their clothes were threadbare, their hair, faces and skin were dirty and scarred.

Of the three standing apart from the girl and hr captor, the one in the middle was clearly in charge. He held an air of superiority that was undeniable. A lord among the waste and fellow denizens of the gutter. His voice when he spoke was deep and gravelly, almost like he was chewing on rocks as he talked.

“We took a vote, little urchin,” the man grumbled. “These alleys and streets belong to us. You don’t panhandle here, these are our corners.”

He stepped forward, violently shaking the entrapped girl. She swatted at him with an unexpectedly controlled swing, but the older man easily blocked her punch. Jostling her again the distinct, high-pitched clinks of coins striking the damp stone echoed through the alley.

“What do we ‘ave here,” he hissed. “What did I tell you boys? She was holding out on us. She clearly must ‘ave stole it. It would only be right for us to take it back. To return it to its rightful owners. Us. Would it not?”

He finished his speech with an awkward cackle, wicked and foul.

“No,” she protested. “It’s mine and I need it for food. I didn’t steal it. It was a gift.”

Her pleas, honest as they were did nothing but incite the hilarity that riled the group. They laughed in vile unison at her feeble attempts at treating with them. The only thing it earned her was a hearty backhand across the face from the man in charge.

“That’s not how things work around here, miss,” he cursed through his laughter. “We do things fair here in the alleys. We vote on everything. Isn’t that right, Dran? Jonpre? Res?

“Ha, that’s right.” The one on the left complained. “This territory is ours. Everything in it belongs to us.”

He reached down greedily, his yellowing fingernails scraping up the coins that Risens had just given to the girl.

“Here you go, Carr,” he offered to man at the center. Having handed over the earnings, he took a step back smiling a toothy grin, showing his he mangled and crooked teeth to the others. He shook his head wildly, beaming, as if he’d done something extraordinarily and was begging for the praise.

A few meters to his side, the last in the group stood a step behind the leader, Carr. He grinned though it quickly faded into a frown. His hand scratched uncomfortably at his chest for a moment before he thumped his fist against his skin. The bizarre actions seemed as if the excitement had all of a sudden stopped heart to stop, requiring the manual restart of his thumping fist.

“You see, we voted on everything around here. What do you say we vote on what to do with her next?” Carr rubbed his hands hungrily together as he spoke.

Raisins had heard enough. He’d seen too much.

The ravens perched on the building to his side glared expectantly at the scene. Their beady eyes met with his. The vicious sentiment was one that they shared.

“Free her,” he whispered. “Then lead her away. She does not need to see this.”

With a flap of their wings, they rose into the air.

Risens watched them circle once before letting out a shrill cry as they streaked toward the man that held the girl aloft. The call of ravens was not an unfamiliar sound in the city. They were the symbol of the Kingdom of Halthome. Visitors seen daily flitting among the buildings, hunting or merely preening their shiny black feathers.

This time they sought revenge.

The man holding the girl aloft had no way to defend himself from their attack.

Diving in fast their talons raked against his cheeks while their beaks simultaneously stabbed into his eyes with frightening precision. With a pained squeal he dropped the youth, throwing his hands to his face before crumpling to the ground. Blood spurted out from between his fingers as he writhed in agony on the stone.

Risens stepped out from behind the corner of the building, his pace was determined and steady covering the distance and only a matter of breaths. The trio of assailants stood in panicked shock at the brutal and disturbing attack. Their companion squirmed on the ground splattering crimson across the stone. Now, a shadow oozing menace stalked from the alley beyond.

Risens glared at them, freezing them in place. Each one is seemingly waiting for the next flee. Keeping his glare locked on them, he took a knee next to where the youngster had fallen. The ravens, this beaks wet with blood hopped on the stones before her. Their talons gave off quiet tapping noises as they strick the rocks.

“Follow the ravens,” he whispered to the girl. “Do not look back. I will find you.”

With a combination of short hops, small bursts of flight, the ravens led the girl first crawling and then stumbling away down the darkened alley. She leveled a fierce kick in the groin to the man squirming on the ground as she passed. He grinned at the appropriately just measure of recompense she leveled on the man.

He would not be so gentle.

Risens pulled the talon from its sheath, the insatiable urge for blood flooding senses as the flashing symbol ignited in the corner of his vision. With a single slash, he whipped the blade across the squirming man’s neck nearly separating his head from his shoulders.

“Give me the coins back. Now,” he demanded. “They were a gift for her, not for you. But, where are my manners? You were about to take a vote if I’m not mistaken. I vote to let her go. How about you?”

“That one was to be mine, Carr,” the man protested, clutching the coins protectively in his hands. His annoying voice was nasally. His mouselike nose and filthy complection did nothing to help his case. “You promised me you’ve promised me everything in this territory was mine. All mine.”

The other who’d backed up a step from behind the leader, just nodded his head in appreciation or approval as if he truly had no voice beyond his own. It was clear that he would follow the others with sheer, blind, willingness and stupidity.

“I say we changed the vote,” Carr growled, glaring first at the body of his companion before turning his hateful eyes to Risens. Perhaps the power of his stare had intimidated others. Not Risens. Not today.

“I vote that we kill him.”

Carr pulled his blade leveling the tip ominously at Risen’s chest. The others emboldened by their leaders’ actions drew theirs one at a time. 

Making baseless speculation about one’s opponent was a lesson Risens had drilled into his head throughout these years of training. His master’s, brutal in their efficiency and acumen had deceived him. First it was by manner of clothing. Tattered garb and cheap thread are no testament to a a fighter’s skill. Neither was their cleanliness, or lack thereof. He had been instructed with painful teachings, that neither do apparent handicaps as they could be easily faked.

He was taught well to follow the cues beyond outward appearances. How one carried their blade. The way their eyes moved, scanning the situation before then. Even the rate of their breaths was a cue to the prepared. He watched the three before him, understanding their weaknesses immediately. He knew many the street gangs that haunted Windwake’s alleys. He recognized most of the faces if not their names. This was not one that had reached his ears. They were either trivial to the crown or they were too new to have studied. 

Either way, it mattered not. None would leave this alley alive.

They stalked the dank corridors between the buildings of the Learner’s Quarter, preying on the weakest of the week. Scratching out whatever means they could from whatever victim they could overpower. They were indiscriminate, age of their targets meant nothing as far as easy scraps were concerned. 

Their blades were pitted, likely having never been maintained properly from the unfortunate day they found their way into their grubby hands. Their stances were unbalanced, feet to close and squared their their intended target. Their positioning was cramped together allowing no room to maneuver or surround the single victim they hunted.

“Let’s see you try,” Risens growled.

Whether combined or alone, they were wholly unprepared for the ferocity of his attack. Whipping the other talon from his sheath, the second glowing symbols flashed into view in the opposite corner of his vision. The blades screamed an expectation as he charged the trio.

Unsurprisingly, one of the trio, withdrew himself from the fight immediately. He had been vocal, adamant, demanding what he considered he was entitled to. Before the first ringing of their swords clashing Jonpre soiled himself, the dark stain, spreading along the front of his filthy pants.

Risens surged between the remaining pair, sliding under Carr’s motivated yet careless attack. The trio had been standing to close to each other. The blade whistled as it traveled over his head, ending in a solid thunk as it bit into his companions chest as he had expected. Spinning on the slick stones he wheeled back on the pair, offering a single slash with the Ravens Talon. Clutching at its heart and now the wound that nearly decapitated him, the man crumpled to the ground without offering a sound.

The horror and the realization that dawned on Carr’s face wasn’t lost on him as the glowing symbol, the corner of his vision increased a digit with his latest kill.

There’s still more to go. The blades knew, screaming for justice.

Carr screamed as he leveled another vicious slash at Risen’s neck. This time, his poorly aimed strike was cut short by the talon that nearly severed his arm at the elbow. Flopping at an awkward angle, blood erupting from the wound, the blade skipped harmlessly off the stones. He opened his mouth to scream but was silenced as the Ravens Talon punched through his mouth and out the back of his head.

The gang of four who had preyed on the child had now been reduced to one. Slipping in his own urine, Jonpre scrambled to escape. Risens tossed one of the talons at the fleeing man. The razor’s edge cut across the back of his left leg before the tip bit deep into the side of his right knee. With a pathetic squeal, the man crumpled to the ground.

 Risens was at his side in a breath, wrenching his blade free from bone and flesh. He loomed over the squirming, pathetic excuse for a man. Jonpre blubbered, begging for his life, complaining about the unfairness of the twist of events.

Risens couldn’t care less.

“Coins. Now.”

“They’re mine,” he protested, pathetically obstinate until the end.

“No. You claimed this territory was your own,” Risens growled. “Now haunt these tiles for all eternity.”

Allowing both of the blades to feed, he dropped to a knee driving the Ravens Talons through the men’s chest. The counters glowing at the bottom of the corners of his vision on either side, increased another digit.

Risens quickly cleaned his blades off on the dead man’s clothes and we’re returning them to their sheets. Pressing the heel of his boot on his wrist he pried the coins from his dead fingers.

He didn’t need to survey the scene to know that none none of the assailants survived. Vengeance had been served. They’d bought their deaths and died in the gutter where they belonged-with the filth like they deserve.

Windwake would be safer in their absence.

He cursed to himself as he turned to walk back down the alley to where the ravens had led the girl. She had made it a few dozen meters, though she had not followed his instructions as intended. She kneeled on the ground, the ravens, both glowing with a slight yellow aura were perched on either of her slender shoulders.

From her wide eyes, he knew she had not looked away. She had witnessed every moment of his vengeance. She had seen the whole scene that played out in her defense.

She rose timidly to her feet as he approached her hands fumbling idly together in front of her stomach. One patted gently at the top of her head, feeling for injury from where the man had held her aloft by her hair.

“Teach me how to do that,” she pleaded.

“No.”

There was no room for consideration. Even if the had the desire, he was not willing to train an apprentice. She showed promise, it was true. However it had been learned, her stealth was impressive for someone her age. He was the King’s Rightmaker, an assassin now hunted by forces he didn’t understand. He suspected that the King too had sought his death. He had no desire to drag anyone else into his orbit. Tawny and Marlaine we’re already inextricably tied to his fate. He would not bring a child into this disaster.

Without a word, he moved forward, collecting the girl by the arm. He pulled her with him, though he was intentional not to drag her too hard.

Without explaining where he was going, he stalked through the alley. The ravens flapped from her shoulders as they moved circling silently overhead. The girl trailed a step behind doing her best to keep up with his pace. He stopped as he reached the opening to the main avenue beyond.

“There is a temple a few hundred meters down the road. You will go there. You will stay there. They offer shelter and for those in need, you will not follow,” Risens ordered. He held out his hand, unclenching his fist that contained the coins he’d recovered. “The ravens will see that you make it unharmed. Do not cross me a little one.”

“My name’s Aleth you know?” She grumbled, the displeasure clear in the tone of her voice

“Remember I am but a shadow.”

She walked a few paces along the cobblestone avenue before she turned her head back toward him again. Her eyes we’re still wide with wonder that overwhelmed the fear and the shock of the situation.

“I thank you again,” she said before turning. “I agree with the raven’s. They disagree with that assessment.”

Her attention shifted, following the ravens that soared overhead. She skipped carefree along the street in their wake as if the traumatic happenings of the evening had never occurred.