A Dark Tyranny Read online

  Matthias stared at the beast in astonishment. Its body breathed in heavily. The enormous creature moved with grace. The bodies of soldiers and horses were strewn about. Matthias was all that remained. It turned its fiery head to him. The eyes of the fiery lion cast down upon him. The heat warmed his skin, but did not burn.

  I am dying anyway. I will take this heat like a warm blanket.

  Matthias closed his eyes.

  So tired.

  He felt claws grip his body, but there was no pain.

  “Sleep now,” Matthias heard the words in his head like a distance voice. In a gentle motion, the beast wrapped its talons around Matthias. The fiery creature lifted its wings. A gust of wind blew snow and shook the branches of the Wielder trees, as the great beast ascended into the expanse of sky above.

  Chapter 2

  The Shoreline

  It was close to morning. The first hints of light would soon wake the horizon. A light fog spread over the coastline. Lewdale was a small fishing village. Its wooden homes rested along the shore of the Southern Realm. It was only a day's walk to the Eastern Realm, so the village thrived on trading its catch to its neighbors. However, Lewdale was part of the Southern Realm. This fact was no longer in dispute. The villagers did not care which realm they served. Taxes and homage would come from either side. Rather, they spent their days fishing the waters.

  Molt and his brothers always woke early. They were all in their early thirties. Each one had a wife, and at least one child. Molt had four children. They stood on the shore by their boats. Molt and Cravis untangled a net. Desmond put oars and the main sail in the hull of their small boat. It was a sloop with a centerboard; perfect for getting in and out amongst the small neighboring islands. A breeze blew over the shoreline. It was wet and cold.

  “It will be cold today,” said Molt.

  “Let the sun come up,” replied Desmond.

  “It's cloudy. You cannot see the sky. It will be a cold day,” said Molt.

  “Do you see something out there?” said Cravis. He pointed towards the water.

  “Yes. Stars reflecting on the water?” asked Desmond.

  “It’s too cloudy. It's not stars. I see it too,” said Molt.

  Cravis put down the net and walked to the edge of the water. He wrapped his arms around his chest to stay warm. He looked out into the water. Small lights flickered in the distance. More of them continued to appear. They steadily rose up and down. There was a yellow hue about them. Desmond approached Cravis. He stood beside him looking at the lights.

  “Come back,” said Molt.

  “Come look,” said Desmond.

  “They’re moving,” said Cravis.

  “Come back. They’re not lights. They're torches. They are all moving together … with the water. We need to leave,” said Molt.

  “You're right … they're torches,” said Cravis.

  “There are so many … they keep appearing. There must hundreds,” said Desmond.

  “Hurry!” said Molt. “We need to warn the village!”

  A fiery arrow escaped the darkness. It hissed through the air and thudded into Desmond's chest. Desmond fell hard to the sand. His clothes slowly caught fire. The steel tip of the arrow pierced through his chest and out his back. Desmond’s body laid lifeless upon the sand.

  “Desmond!” yelled Cravis, as he ran towards him.

  Another arrow caught Cravis in the neck. It knocked him sideways. He grabbed at the arrow, as blood streamed down his neck. He choked and coughed. Cravis fell to his knees gasping for air. Molt ran. He heard two arrows hiss past him. One of his legs flew to one side. A searing pain burned above his knee. He tripped. An arrow jutted from his leg. He started to stand but another caught him in the back, while another thudded into this waist. Molt laid to one side. He felt his blood pool around him. The fire on the arrows slowly spread. He looked out at the water, while he struggled to breathe. Torches illuminated the black hulls of the vessels. They glided through the water like shadows. A fleet of warships slowly descended upon the shores of Lewdale.

  Chapter 3

  Illusions

  The hawk was a short-winged bird. It soared high above the forest in tight circles. Finn had decided upon the goshawk for that day. Its short wings made it ideal for quick bursts of speed and darting between the trees. The trees kept the forest shaded. Sunlight cascaded between them in thick beams. Finn could hear the faint ring of the gauntlet that wrapped its talon. Finn and the bird had already caught two small hares and a squirrel. They were close to being done for the day. Finn enjoyed hunting. He did his best to prolong his time away from Castle Red.

  It was not long before he whistled to the bird for its return. He tethered it to his wrist and began the walk back to the castle. He gave the goshawk small bits of a field mouse as they walked. Finn knew what it was like to be a servant to someone. However, unlike the hawk, Finn would not be released at the end of the year.

  If I could fly like you … I would never return.

  ___________

  Nylah sat at the table with her aunt and cousin. She looked at her bowl of stewed beef and potatoes. The oil from the beef pooled atop the broth. She missed the buttered fish, olives, and ripe tomatoes of the isles. Things in the realms were different. Her hair was curly and fell in dark ringlets. However, the climate of the Southern Realm caused her hair to feel dry and brittle. Her skin felt tight and coarse. Perhaps, it was the water or the air. She very much felt like a stranger. She was a stranger.

  “Eat your food, Nylah. They do not have their evening meal here until much later,” said Lady Tanda.

  Lady Tanda's hair was braided and pulled back. She sat with perfect posture. She looked like a stern version of Nylah's mother. Her pale skin did not look as delicate as it did on Nylah's mother. Instead, it looked stubborn and sickly. Lady Tanda was not a mean person. She could be kind at times. She was an orderly woman that respected rank and designation.

  “Yes, Aunt Tanda,” said Nylah. She reached for the basket of bread at the center of the table.

  “The stew as well,” said Lady Tanda, as she straightened her dress and regained her posture.

  “You really shouldn't ask so many questions this time,” said Lilith. Her brown hair was pulled back tightly into a bun. Nylah had trouble looking at her without smiling. Lilith's eyebrows seemed to stretch upward from the stress of her hair tugging her scalp.

  “I was curious about the mill,” replied Nylah.

  “Lilith, leave her be,” said Lady Tanda. “She has not been exposed to this.”

  “Why would your father not move from the isles?” asked Lilith.

  “Because there are no ships inland … or fish for that matter,” replied Nylah.

  “Her mother made her choice,” said Lady Tanda.

  “But why?” asked Lilith.

  “She loves my father … and he builds ships,” said Nylah.

  “Ask as many as you like, Nylah. I only ask that you be respectful. The Baron is a powerful man in this realm. He does business with our family … your family,” said Lady Tanda.

  “Of course, Aunt,” said Nylah.

  “We will be meeting with Lord Hartley and the Baron later. I'm sure you will have plenty of opportunity for questions,” said Lady Tanda.

  “You can always ask me your questions,” said Lilith. “I've seen a lot in my twenty-three years.”

  “I've a question then,” said Nylah.

  “Do ask,” said Lilith.

  “How do you get your hair so tight?” said Nylah, smiling.

  Lilith felt her hair. Nylah could no longer hide her laughter. She tried to conceal it with a cough but it was no use. Lady Tanda looked sternly at both Nylah and Lilith. She put down her glass and laid her hands upon the table.

  “You are practically the same age. You should be friends … not bickering nuisances to each other,” said Lady Tanda.

  She looked at Lilith.

  “God and kings, Lilith. Loosen your hair,” said Lady Tanda, sm
iling.

  The three of them had a moment of laughter. It felt good to Nylah. It felt like home.

  “You should pull your hair back some, Nylah. You have charming eyes. You should let others see them,” said Lady Tanda.

  “They are very green,” said Lilith.

  “They are your father's, no doubt,” said Lady Tanda.

  “I would like to meet your father,” said Lilith.

  “You are always welcome. It would be nice,” said Nylah.

  “Come now, finish your food. Lord Hartley wants to see the Baron's falcon or some such thing,” said Lady Tanda.

  ___________

  The mew was behind Castle Red. It was originally near the stables, but the hawks and falcons could not relax close to the horses. Finn put the goshawk into the mew and left for the kitchen. He would give the hares to the butcher for cleaning and dressing. He had other plans for the squirrel. He put it in a small sack. Finn could see the stone tower attached to the castle. The stones of the tower were older than Castle Red itself. The Baron had ceased using the tower a long time ago. The guards had not slept there in years. There was only one occupant now, and it was kept in a cage. This was the perfect time for Finn to visit the great bird.

  This was his favorite time of the day. It was one of the only times he felt a semblance of freedom. His was a life of servitude to the king. He and a host of others were given to the Baron as a gift. Finn had grown up in Castle Red. He was a falconer, which entailed his hunting the Baron’s land for small game. Falconers also keep the smaller predators like fox and feral dogs at bay. The Baron's mew was full of many different birds for hunting. Bow and bird, the villagers called it. However, Finn had no bird like the Red Falcon. He often wished he could release it. Let it soar again. However, it would mean his death. The Blood Falcon of Castle Red was worth more than the life of one servant. The least Finn could do was feed it more than simple grain and insects. He tried to feed the bird at least twice a week. It depended on each day's hunt. However, he was normally able to catch and conceal at least one small animal each week.

  ___________

  The Baron and his party ascended the stairs of the tower. They wound up and around in tight circles. The tower of Castle Red was the largest tower in the Southern Realm. The stairs wound for what seemed like an eternity. The stairs were no longer safe for one person, much less a large party. There were no railings along the cracking stone walls. One slip of the foot meant certain death. Two guards led the way; two more followed behind. Large slits in the walls let dusty light cascade into the tower. They crisscrossed the entire way down like a spider web cast by the sun.

  “Careful now,” the lead guard spoke with a rasp. His mustache twisted down around his dry lips. “These stairs ain’t seen quite this much boots in, at least, a hundred years.”

  “They certainly ain’t seen the likes of maidens or lil’ ones,” a thin faced guard chimed in. He looked terrified that one of the highborn families would fall to their death. It would certainly mean the dungeons for him … or worse.

  “I was bequeathed this beast. The least I can do is show it to some that would take interest,” said the Baron of Moor, a portly man with a constantly flush face. There was too much walking and riding in this world; his large frame had grown tired of it by the age of nine. Now in middle age, he was quite sick of over-exerting himself. However, he’d let his wine and his boasting get the better of him during the midday meal. The wine was gone now. He had sweated it through his shirt and pants before the twentieth stone step. His thin mustache was now soaked. It limply hung against his fleshy lips.

  “Is it truly the last of its kind?” asked Lady Tanda.

  “If there is another, I have yet to lay eyes upon it. One may hear the tale of a forester catching sight of one, but it’s nothing more than that … a tale.” The Baron leaned in against the wall. He willed himself to take another step, then another, then another.

  “Have you heard it scream,” asked a boy clutching to Lady Tanda’s dress for safety.

  “Alas, I have not, nor would I want to.”

  “They say it can drive a man to madness,” spoke Lord Hartley. He carried the ends of his cloak like a woman clinging to her dress as she jumps a puddle. His very presence sent bile up the Baron’s throat. The Hartleys were only made highborn after the last war. They had no real noble blood. “I must admit that I am quite intrigued by the stories of these beasts.”

  “If we could ever get to the end of these bloody stairs,” sighed Lady Tanda.

  ___________

  Finn had not been in the cell long before he began to hear voices outside the room.

  No one ever comes to the tower’s cell.

  He could hear sounds of women and children. It was strange to hear such voices filling the emptiness of the tower. The cell was usually quiet, except for the sounds of his feeding the great falcon. He was holding the squirrel he had brought for the bird.

  The door to the tower cell opened. Finn saw the large group stagger in. They were breathing heavy with sweat on their flush faces. Finn stood straighter as they entered. He quickly put the squirrel back into the sack. Finn began to think of what to say to the Baron. He was always anxious around him. He had been this way since they brought him here as a child.

  “God and kings!” exclaimed Lord Hartley. He looked in awe of the great bird in the cage before him. The thick steel cage took up the entire room. There was just enough space for the group to spread out around the flat bars. The bird itself took up most of the cage. It was nearly the size of a stag or large pony. Its claws wrapped tightly around a bar crossing just above the floor. “It’s enormous … and the color.”

  “A deep red,” spoke the Baron, “the color of blood.”

  “A Blood Falcon,” the little boy spoke to himself. “They’re real.”

  “Indeed … but he is the last of his kind. When he leaves this world, the only red falcons left will be the ones that adorn the castle’s banners,” spoke the Baron.

  “And shields,” replied the child.

  “Aye. You there,” the Baron motioned to Finn. “What business are you carrying on with?”

  “I was ensuring the bird had water … and grain, sire.”

  “One of your falconers, sire,” spoke a guard.

  “Why is the bird blindfolded?” Lady Tanda seemed none too impressed.

  “For our safety madam. The bird has a scream that will bleed your ears,” said the Baron.

  “Lack of vision keeps this bird from using its voice? How pathetic for such a renowned beast. When do you take it off?” asked Lord Hartley.

  “Why, never,” replied the Baron. Did the bloody fool want the bird to shake the tower to the ground?

  “This beast has been blindfolded since the days of your father’s fathers?” questioned Lady Tanda.

  “We won’t be feeding the bird just now. Not with guests in its presence,” the Baron spoke to Finn, as he ignored the question.

  “Aye, sire,” Finn backed up from the cage. This is when he first saw her. The waves of her thick dark hair cascaded around her shoulders in tight ringlets. She had eyes of emerald seas that caught Finn unaware. He stood for a moment, lost. She looked to be from the isles. Her skin was soft. She had high cheeks that were rounded instead of sharp. They made her eyes seem larger and kind. She smiled at him. Finn felt his face go flush. One of the other girls giggled and said something. Finn stood motionless. He was lost in the woman before him.

  “Hello,” Finn said quietly to her.

  She smiled at Finn and began to speak.

  “That will be all,” ordered Lady Tanda.

  “Yes, my Lady.” Finn turned to leave them with the great winged falcon. It was a bird that had lived for over one hundred years. It would outlive them all. It was thing of myth and legend. However, all Finn thought of was a pair of green eyes that had stared back at him, even if for a brief moment.

  “How many falcons do you have, Baron?” asked Nylah.

&nb
sp; “There are many different birds in the mew,” replied the Baron.

  “I have never seen a mew,” said Nylah.

  “This can easily be remedied,” said the Baron. “I can ensure you see the mew before you depart.”

  “I believe we are traveling to Nedding tomorrow. Are we not, Aunt Tanda?” asked Nylah.

  “We plan to see their fabrics,” Lady Tanda said to the Baron.

  “You can see the mew tonight if you like,” said the Baron, “if it is agreed upon by your aunt.”

  “May I?” Nylah asked Lady Tanda.

  “See that you are back soon. We are dining with Lord Hartley,” said Lady Tanda.

  “Of course, Aunt,” said Nylah, smiling.

  “See that she sees the mew,” the Baron said to Finn. “See that she is safely and expediently returned to her quarters after she has seen the birds.”

  “Yes, sire,” replied Finn. His heart pounded in his chest.

  “Enjoy the mew, cousin,” Lilith said with a grin.

  “I shall follow you,” Nylah said to Finn.

  ___________

  There was a chill to the air when Finn and Nylah left the tower. The sun was slowly setting; its warmth was being tucked away beyond the horizon. They made their way across the courtyard. Oxen slowly pulled wagons of turnips and potatoes. Farmers led them through the dusty streets. Villagers bustled across the courtyard and through the castle grounds. Glenshire village lay directly beside Castle Red. The villagers sold their goods to all those passing through. Finn could hear the distant sound of a lute and pipes. The music drifted through the village. He pulled his cloak over his shoulders. His hair fell just below his chin. He pulled a leather strap from his pocket to keep it from blowing over his eyes. There was an unusual breeze. It was almost warm air laced with streaks of cold. Nylah walked with her arms across her chest. She did not raise the hood of her cloak. The breeze blew the ringlets of her hair back. Finn could see all the contours of her face. He tried not to stare at her. She walked beside him in silence. Neither seemed to know what to say. Finn felt he should say something. Anything. They both began to speak at once.