Caracara's Hunt 15 Distraction

"Kindness?" Eliot asked while taking a step forward. His arms were shaking as he advanced with murderous intent. "You killed my parents! They're dead because of you!"

The sneer didn't disappear from the man's face. "But I let you live, didn't I? I was kind enough to allow a b.a.s.t.a.r.d like you to escape."

Eliot's fisted hand rose to strike him, but Corwal caught it. "Don't let him anger you into doing something you'll regret." He then turned to the n.o.ble on the ground. "Enough with your fake niceness. He escaped because you were too afraid to attract authorities by chasing him through the whole city. Nothing more."

When Arawn stepped closer, he was surprised by how nonchalant the n.o.ble was acting. The man was pressed under the horse, unable to escape, yet he was still taunting them. It was as if he didn't think they'd do anything to him. Or maybe that they could do anything.

"I know who you are," Corwal said after a moment. "Your days as a n.o.ble are more than just over."

"Maybe," the man on the ground agreed with a shrug. "But my job is already done. Haven't you heard the news?" He laughed. "You're too late, hound."

Corwal didn't betray anything on his face, but Arawn saw his shoulders tense. "What do you mean?"

"I was a distraction, dear hound. While you spent the last couple months sniffing my trail, my a.s.sociates got to act freely. Three months is more than enough time to prepare an attack," the man gloated. His eyes were s.h.i.+ning with mirth while a smirk played on his lips. "Yesterday, I received the word that I can go back home."

"Distraction…" Corwal murmured to himself. His gaze was focused on the fallen man, but Arawn could tell that he wasn't seeing him. After a few moments, his eyes s.h.i.+fted to Arawn. "We're leaving."

"Wh"

Before Arawn could finish his question in regards to what they planned to do with the crippled man, a bolt of ether left Corwal's hands. It sliced the n.o.ble's neck open, and with nothing more than a sharp intake of breath, the man's head rolled to the side, its eyes gla.s.sy.

"I thought you didn't use ether," Arawn said, finding it a bit strange. Hadn't he said that only children used pure ether?

Corwal grabbed Eliot's hand and pulled the wide-eyed boy away. The kid didn't seem to be able to decide whether to be overcome with joy that his parents' murderer was dead, or to puke on the side from the gruesome sight. His face muscles kept twitching, fighting to choose one option or the other.

"We use elements because it allows us to conserve our energy and because it is usually more convenient than the brute force of pure ether. However, it still has its uses."

"Like cutting people's throats?"

There was a warning in the gaze Corwal leveled at him. "Yes, like cutting people's throats. Or did you want me to bring him to the prison from which he'd be released in two days once he paid the right fines?"

Arawn didn't say anything more. He wasn't against killing people that thought they had the right to take other people's lives, but the efficiency with which Corwal had done it unnerved him. Was it really okay to be so ruthless? The n.o.ble hadn't even known what was coming before it was all over. His gla.s.sy eyes still held surprise in them.

'And the man in the tavern had time to react?' his inner voice asked, mocking.

It had a point though, and Arawn looked away, hurrying up after Corwal. Some distance away, they saw their carriage waiting on the side of the road. The driver examined their clothes, but there was nothing for them to see. They were a little rumpled, but that was to be expected after training in the fields.

No one talked while they got back to the house. The instant they crossed the threshold and paid the driver, Corwal turned and told them to go inside. He in the meantime jogged down the street without explaining what he was going to do.

Feeling like he should follow since Corwal could barely call ether anymore until he rested, Arawn took a step in that direction, but Eliot pulled him on his sleeve. "You shouldn't do that. Master will be angry if you follow."

"And if something happens to him?"

"It won-"

As Eliot began to deny it, he shut his mouth. It hadn't been three days since his master had escaped prison, and it had only been through luck. If Arawn hadn't been in the Gutter, Corwal would have rotted there until the end of his days, or worse, been turned into a plaything that wouldn't have lasted a week.

"Since it's decided, let's go." Arawn dragged the kid out with him.

Although he didn't know what was happening, he did know that he couldn't let Corwal out of his eyesight. The man was his only connection to the strange outside world he now inhabited, and the only person Arawn could possibly trust.

They didn't have to go far. Corwal ducked into the first tavern at the end of the street. It had a sign with a picture of a frog that held a tankard in its hand hanging on a single hinge above the door frame. It squeaked with every pa.s.sing gust, driving Arawn crazy.

He examined their surroundings, but there was nothing special about the street. It was dark, dingy, and stank of p.i.s.s and vomit. One man was already lying by the steps, groaning something to himself.

Light came from a window above the body, but the gla.s.s was thick, unclear, and hadn't seen cleaning since it was set there. Nothing but a grey blur could be seen through it.

"Should we enter?" Arawn asked. He wasn't too certain about how taverns worked. Last time he'd had his task, so it had made things simple, but he had a feeling they'd stand out quite a lot if they were to enter like normal customers.

Eliot shook his head violently. "No!" he whispered loudly and pulled Arawn to the opposite side of the street, under the eaves of some dilapidated building. "I'm too young, and you look like a kid too."

Arawn wanted to refute him, but it was the harsh truth that even though he might be a head taller than the boy, he was much skinnier and pale. If they were to be compared, more than a few people might not give him his years.

"Fine then, we'll wait here." After a few minutes of just standing still, Arawn realized he could try to wriggle some answers of the boy since they were alone. "So how did you meet Corwal?" he asked.

"He saved my life," Eliot answered without any hesitation, his gaze focused on the tavern's single window. "My parents had told me to hide when they realized that someone had entered servants' quarters late at night. Through a crack in the door, I saw the men enter and stab them without a word."

As the boy spoke, there was no emotion in his voice. It was as if it was a story of someone else, a horror that had happened to his friend. "I watched through the hole in the door, too terrified to move for a time, but when I saw them coming toward the room in which I hid, I jumped out the window onto the nearby tree and dashed away. I ran and ran and ran. At some point, I stumbled into Master rounding a street corner."

"And he just picked you up and gave you shelter?"

The kid nodded. His gaze then rose to meet Arawn's. "I don't know why he chose to listen to my story and gave me a chance, but I will never forget it. I'll do anything to repay him. He even fulfilled his promise to avenge my family."

There was fervent zeal in the boy's words that Arawn could understand, but which he did not share. Although Corwal did want to help him too, he wasn't a street urchin that could be saved with the provision of shelter and food. His problems were so much bigger that even the archmage himself could not come up with a better solution than to just throw him into the Gutter and hope for the best.

They talked for a long while. Eliot explained a lot about how the world worked, the life of servants and n.o.bles. There were so many ranks for both types of people that Arawn's head began to spin. He almost missed the simple social structure of the prison where strength was all that mattered.

When Corwal finally exited the tavern, a full moon was high in the night sky. It shone on the inebriated man stumbling over his feet. His face was flushed with drink, but his eyes were lively and clear, taking in everything around him.

It didn't take him more than a moment to notice Arawn and Eliot waiting nearby. "What are you doing here?" he asked them. His words were slurred, but not beyond understanding.

"Picking you up, Master," Eliot said with a smile. "We were afraid you won't be able to find the way home."

"Mhm… Right…" Corwal sighed and threw his hand over Arawn's shoulders. "Since you're here, do help me back. I think I might have overestimated my stomach for beer."

Arawn was surprised by the sudden weight and stumbled, but managed to catch himself before he fell. Upon stabilizing himself, he glared at the man leaning on him. Corwal's breath stank of alcohol, and his eyes were too s.h.i.+ny.

Noticing his expression, Corwal pushed himself away and almost fell back. His balance was all over the place, but he somehow managed to remain standing. "I've learned something," he said suddenly with a twist of his lips. One corner went up in a smile that could have been a sneer as well. "That b.a.s.t.a.r.d was right. I did waste my time hunting shadows."

He took a step forward and windmilled. His hands rose up for balance, and Arawn resisted a chuckle. Corwal acted as if he was walking on a tightrope while there was solid ground beneath his feet.

The next step wasn't so steady, and Corwal leaned far to the right. Both Eliot and Arawn jumped to his side to catch him. They barely pulled him up, but it was a thankless task. With another step, the man stumbled once again, threatening to plant his face onto the cobbled street.

"You're disgusting," Arawn muttered and threw Corwal's hand over his own shoulder. He was too thin to carry the larger man, but even a little help was going to be better than allowing him to kiss the whole street back home.

Eliot moved around them, supporting whoever was about to falter. By the time they reached the house, both Arawn and the boy were drenched in sweat. They dragged the dead weight to its room and threw it on the bed. Corwal groaned and opened his eyes.

He blinked a couple times, seemingly wondering where he was. When he took note of Arawn and Eliot, he smiled. "The princess was kidnapped a week ago, and I learned about it just now. Do you think there has ever been a worse hound in this country's long history?"

It took Arawn a minute to realize that Corwal was continuing the conversation from before as if no time had pa.s.sed. Before any questions could be asked though, his eyelids drooped, and he fell asleep again.

"What's a hound?" Arawn asked Eliot whose hands had moved to his mouth. The kid looked like he'd seen a ghost.

"King's people," Eliot said in a shaky voice. "They hunt traitors and insurrectionists. It's their job to ensure the country's safety by any means necessary. No laws but the king's direct orders apply to them."

The boy took in a shuddering breath and glanced at Arawn. "It's said that they're all high mages, and the common folk fear them more than the king himself. Even the n.o.bles have to give them way. After all, hounds are not known for their restraint. If their target hides, they don't mind burning the whole village to ensure a successful mission."

Arawn let his eyes return to the drunk man sleeping crooked on the bed. His hair was all over the face, but they didn't manage to hide the youthfulness of the person. He didn't look like anyone dangerous, let alone somebody that could kill a dozen people without blinking an eye.

But Arawn didn't look like such a person either, so what did that say? For some reason, the person's horrible deeds weren't reflected in their appearance. An oversight of the G.o.ds, certainly.

"You won't hurt him, will you?" Eliot asked in a soft voice. It was no louder than the buzz of a mosquito.

There was pleading in the boy's eyes. He didn't come to stand before Corwal to protect him behind his back since it would be a useless gesture, but he still begged for Arawn not to choose to execute their companion.

'Is that how normal people react upon hearing someone is a hound? They want to kill them?' Arawn shook his head and stepped back. He didn't know what Corwal had done before, but he'd certainly helped him and saved Eliot. There was nothing that Arawn had seen that called for his death.

"I'm going to sleep. Good night," he said and exited the room. While walking down the corridor, he wondered how the more he learned about Corwal, the more confusing it got. Just who was this person that had helped him leave the Gutter and taught him how to control the ether?