Caracara's Hunt 68 A Peacock Among Chickens

In a little while, they went off the main roads and found an out of the way inn. It looked to be standing on its last legs, but the proprietor didn't ask them any questions and just gave them the keys to their rooms.

Once upstairs, they piled up into Val and Arawn's room.

"Were those people the ones you planned to use?" Rain asked while sitting down on one of the beds. Her expression was pensive, but she didn't look discouraged. "Do you know any others?"

Val nodded. "Yes, but it won't be as fast. None of the others know me personally."

Arawn moved to the window while they discussed their options. He examined the empty street and the trash littering the ground. There was nothing special about the view, but a sudden sense of dread washed over him.

"It won't work then," he said, interrupting the conversation. He met each person's eyes before settling on Val. "If we don't leave soon, we'll be trapped here forever."

"Your meaning?"

"Corwal is probably here. If he comes to find us…" Arawn shook his head. "You're the son of a traitorous n.o.ble in the company of a mercenary leader and a monster. We can't be found."

Val was in the process of nodding when his head froze. "You keep repeating that monster nonsense. Are you well-known in Ayersbert?"

The loaded question left Arawn with a frown. He could explain his story to them, but it would take too long, and they would probably run away screaming. This didn't exactly align with his plans to help them.

"Everyone knows of me, but they have never seen me. Only a few people know my face." He smiled slightly. "Even Corwal didn't recognize me."

The next moment, his expression froze. Was it really good to be so joyous about such a thing? Although he'd kept his secret, it didn't invalidate it. He was a monstrosity the world didn't deserve.

Rain crossed her arms and tilted her head. "I thought he knew all about you?"

"He knew Arawn, but before I gained this name, I was someone— something else."

"But you're not gonna tell us about it, are you?"

"No," Arawn said without any hesitation. "If we encounter any authorities coming for me, just let them take me. I won't fight back."

If they sent him back to the Gutter, he would escape again. But if he was brought into the castle, he wanted to talk to the archmage and ask him why he was imprisoned his whole life. There was also that business about not teaching him anything, like crafting artefacts or healing people.

It was okay before he knew anything, but now, he wasn't going to accept just being locked up till his head grew white and his body gave out. There was a way for him to be useful, and after repaying his debt to Val, at least partially, he was going to learn to do just that.

And if the archmage wouldn't want to teach him, he was sure Silvester wouldn't refuse him.

"You're getting weirder and weirder," Betty murmured, looking not too happy about his cryptic speech.

"Doesn't matter," Rain said and took out a parchment. "Let's focus. What we know right now is that Claus might be in the capital with his mercenary band. The place is big, but they could hide in—"

"Would they hide?" Val asked with a frown. "If they've got hounds' support, what reason would there be for them to hide?"

This actually worked in their favor. If the mercenaries weren't in hiding, they would be much easier to locate. And if they had already been paid, they would want to use up that coin. Mercenaries and sailors were two types of people that didn't know what saving meant. Their choice of occupation meant that they might never get a second chance to use their money.

In the end, it was decided that they should separate into two groups. Val would take Betty as his bodyguard and contact his father's other employees. At least one of them had to be around and would be able to tell them what exactly was going on in the capital.

Rain and Arawn would go walk around the main square and most popular taverns. Neither of them looked like someone who frequented such places, but Betty worked a lot better as an intimidating bodyguard for Val than the scrawny, pale-looking fellow like Arawn. Although he was no longer malnourished, the decade spent in various dungeons had left its mark.

When they left the inn, Arawn turned to Rain. "How does Claus look?"

"Bear of a man," Rain said with a grimace. "Imagine Garshta, just blond and sleazy-looking. In a crowd, look for the brightest peac.o.c.k, and you'll probably find him."

This was an unexpected description, but after Arawn thought about it, he realized that it eliminated everyone they pa.s.sed by on the street. Most rainbow-dressed people were n.o.bles and so lacked the brutish build of the common folk. Great physical strength was not a necessity for combat mages, so it was bred out to make room for things like agility.

The streets were full of people, but they were talking in hushed voices and glancing around themselves in worry. When strangers like Rain and Arawn came close, they stopped talking and watched them with guarded gazes. If chatted up, they only spoke a few perfunctory words before leaving, saying they just remembered they needed to do something.

Their excuses ranged from partially believable, like they needed to take a pot off the fire or finish was.h.i.+ng the clothes, to simply ludicrous, like hearing their children cry out for them when there was no sound or that their cat dropped something in the house when they had no pets.

"Everyone's frightened," Rain murmured when another person ran away from them. "They probably know little more than us."

"What's there?" Arawn asked, pointing at a large crowd in the distance.

Rain had no better idea than him, so they ventured over to check it out. They had to push through for a while since nothing could be seen from the back. The crowd jostled them, threatening to separate them, and Rain grabbed Arawn's hand.

"Stay with me," she ordered while pulling him along.

He looked at their connected hands, feeling a little strange, then nodded. This was simply a way for him to not get lost. Neither of them knew the capital well, so if they got separated, they would have trouble finding each other again.

Once they got closer to the center, Arawn noticed the ground sloping beneath him. It wasn't a sudden s.h.i.+ft, but a slow, gradual one. With every step, he was slowly going downwards.

They continued pus.h.i.+ng forward. Rain wasn't large, but she was quick to dive through any opening and shoulder her way past where there wasn't one. Some townsfolk got angry at that, but upon seeing her traveling gear and knives thought better of it. If they got stabbed in such a place, no one would notice and later treat them as some unlucky fellows who had been trampled by the crowd.

Soon, Arawn saw what was all the commotion about. Down the slope stood a large earthen stage. On it, a man dressed in bright orange clothes was holding a large crimson bird with long tail feathers. He shouted something, but he was too far to hear it.

The next moment, the bird alighted from the man's hand. Its wings were two meters in diameter, and it flapped them with grace, creating small gusts of wind that flapped the man's cloak. The crimson feathers rippled in the sunlight, making it look like flames were dancing on the wings.

A wave of awed oohs traveled down the crowd, followed by claps and shouted appreciation. As if this was some sort of signal, the crimson bird rose even higher, some thirty meters from the ground, before halting in place.

It screeched, its voice loud and demanding, and ether gathered before it. As Arawn yelped in shock, the bird sent it diving downwards into the torches burning on the four corners of the stage. The bird screeched again, and flames rushed at it, forming a small tornado before it.

The next screech was filled with pride, and the bird separated the tornado into eight b.a.l.l.s of fire that circled around it. The bird moved then, and the fire followed, continuing to stay around it.

The man on the stage chose that moment to wave his finger, and the bird called out in a mocking voice. The fireb.a.l.l.s streaked downwards, aiming straight for the man. He screamed in shock and tripped over himself.

The crowd burst out laughing, cheering the bird on. It called out to them and sent even more fireb.a.l.l.s at its owner. Few of them hit though. They all landed just next to the man who was rolling around on the stage.

When he stood up, both his coat and eyebrows were singed. This brought a wave of laughter from the crowd, and the man grumbled with a dark expression. He waved his hand at the bird in reprimand, calling to it, but the bird ignored him. When the man called to the ether and used water jets to hit the bird, it avoided them with even louder mocking calls.

"What is this?" Arawn asked in wonder.

A smile had come onto his face at some point, and he couldn't help cheering on the crimson bird. Its expressive calls and taunting flying pattern were just impossible not to like. The bird was beautiful beyond comparison, and it was also making fun of an ether user.

"Haven't you seen circus before?" Rain asked, looking at him in surprise. When he shook his head, she narrowed her eyes. "Are you serious?"

He nodded. "Is that bird actually using ether? Can animals do that?"

"Of course… If we can, why shouldn't they? Not many though, and usually in harsher lands than here. You need almost human-like intelligence for ether, so circuses love such animals. They're extremely easy to train."

Arawn returned his gaze to the crimson bird that was now chasing its owner on the stage. The man was holding its head while running in circles, seemingly having lost all sense of shame.

With amus.e.m.e.nt, Arawn glanced over the crowd. Everyone was having fun, and the tense atmosphere they had noticed before could not be found here. Men and women stood in pairs or groups, laughing and pointing at the stage. Those with children held them up on their shoulders.

There was even a large stand on the left for the n.o.bles. They were sitting with legs crossed and backs straight. Some were watching the show, but most were yawning and chatting among themselves, not even glancing at the stage.

A few were throwing disgusted looks to their left where a man twice their size sat on two seats by himself. He was laughing like a maniac and even hitting his knee in joy. The few people around him looked perturbed. They seemed to want to be anywhere but there.

Arawn was about to look back to the stage when his eyes returned to the large man. He was blond and dressed in a bright yellow tunic while a light blue cloak was draped over the back of his chair. He stood out from the Bretian n.o.bles like a peac.o.c.k in a group of brown chickens.

Blinking a couple of times to make sure he had seen it right, Arawn looked away then looked back. The man was still there, so he rubbed his eyes to make sure he really wasn't seeing things.

Wasn't this too easy? Hadn't they just come to the capital?

"Rain…" he murmured in a soft voice, but she didn't hear him over the crowd, so he tugged at her hand. She looked at him with a question in her eyes.

Instead of speaking, he raised his free hand and pointed in the peac.o.c.k's direction. Rain furrowed her brow and looked at where he indicated. For a moment, she didn't react, then her jaw hit the ground.