Feathers and Flame
Chapter 8

The old man smiled at her and then glanced around at the walls.

Faye could understand why they would run in here rather than try escape the village. The walls were marked with wards, some new but many old and powerful. The kind of wards that weren’t used anymore. The kind that had used blood, which still stained the wall decades after they had been drawn. It was a place that would protect them from Aed, but seeing the dark red made Faye uneasy. She did not want to stay there long.

The people in the Hall didn’t have much to get ready. There was very little in the Hall that they would want, except for a few weapons hanging on the walls. They had a few chickens and rabbits that they had managed to grab while running away from the Aed. When the last chicken was caught, they were ready to go. Faye looked at the rabbits, who squirmed in arms, and thought of the nameless hawk she had sent with the siblings, Colm and Lorcan. She hoped that it had a better night than she did.

A few people came over to say goodbye to the old man, but most were too busy trying to gather the families they had left. Faye took note of what door they went through in case she decided to change her mind later and do the smart thing. All of the villagers that she could see, except for the old man, had very few beads. Faye had only a few as well, preferring not to get a bead for everything. People saw a lot of beads in a person’s hair and they started asking what they were for.

One bead all the people had was a small wooden thing with a delicate carving. A single small plait with that bead was all most of the children had. It was the mark of the town, proclaimed where they were born. Faye used to have a bead somewhat like it a long time ago. She had cut it out.

“Close it after you,” said the old man. Some of his people nodded at him.

The old man watched the last of his people leave and didn’t even notice Faye staring at his bead. The craving was of a bird, most likely a pigeon or other small bird. Small birds were often a village choice, referring to the old tales and ideas of a life after. Faye had been to three places that had a robin as their symbol.

“Is there any water around?” Faye asked the old man. He pointed to a large tub near the wall. Faye went to it and took another drink of water. Soot kept getting into her mouth, coating her tongue in dry ash. The milk she had been given had helped, but with ash on her face and hands, the relief never lasted long. Faye then set about washing her arms, neck and face. She couldn’t do much about her clothes, but she could try to appear somewhat more respectable.

She looked at the blood marks on the wall again, guessing how much of an affect they were having on her. She still felt angry, and the feeling should have past over her. It should have moved on to the least fun part by now. The fact that it hadn’t was making her nervous. She was out of paste to dull the sensation when it came over her.

With time continuing to run out, Faye finished washing her face and stood up straight. She walked towards the blocked door and began to move some of the barricade.

“What are you doing?” asked the old man.

“I thought you said you wanted to see Tadhg get his ass handed to him?” she said, pulling more away. She opened the door a tiny bit and stood behind it.

“Hey!” she called out the space, in a voice unlike her own, “Tell Tadhg that we want to discuss terms of surrender.”

The men near the door ran to get their leader, shouting out along the way. Faye went over to the old man and took a small axe from him. He still had a larger one of his own. Faye sat down by the door and waited until she heard the sound of many people gathering outside.

“Alright,” said Tadhg, “If you come out now, I’ll let most of you live. That’s it.”

Faye stood up and popped her head out.

“Hello,” she said to the shocked slavers. Tadhg turned bright red.

“How did you get in there?” he asked in a tense, tight voice.

Faye waved her fingers at him.

“I’m magic. Come on in,” she said and popped her head back in.

She walked back into the Hall and waited.

Tadhg was the first to squeeze through the gap into the Hall. He held the fake ornate sword that they had taken from Faye. All of the other men were armed as well, with daggers and clubs. He was soon followed by some, but not all, of his men. Séamus was one of them. Faye did a quick count as they looked around the empty Hall with their mouths open. Tadhg was the first to recover.

“Where are they hiding?” he asked.

“Nowhere,” said Faye, “Go ahead and look around if you want.”

Tadhg and his men opened the door to every single room and looked inside. Some of them looked at Faye uncertainly as they past her, but she just stood by the injured old man and advised him to keep his mouth shut. If Faye had any power left, she could have increased the anger and confusion they felt then. It was harder, but not impossible, to do the same thing without any powers. Tadhg came back into the room and kicked a chair at one of his men. He rounded on Faye.

“Tell me where they are,” he snapped. Faye shrugged.

“By the sea…I think,” she said. Tadhg focused on the old, injured man.

“He didn’t want to go,” said Faye, “Said that their was a fierce wind on the coast that wouldn’t agree with a man of his age.”

Tadhg took a step towards her. A few of his men hesitatingly did the same. Faye put up a finger and some of them startled.

“Ah-ah,” she said, “I sent them near the sea. I’ll send you lot into it, where you can’t even see the coast.”

That did it for at least three of them. Forest folk rarely learnt to swim. Those that did, swam in small rivers with the shore in reach.

“You’re lying,” said Tadhg, “They are here somewhere.”

“Are you saying that you don’t trust your men to have a proper look around?” she asked. She flicked the axe over and balanced it on her forefinger. When it was about to loose balance, she tossed it up and caught the handle.

“I used to throw knives to get by,” said Faye, “I wonder how I’ll be at throwing axes.”

“You think you are so smart, you little bitch.”

“Ah-ah,” said Faye, and smiled. She used to axe to rip her sleeve length-ways, exposing her tattoo, “Little Council bitch.”

The other men, besides Séamus, were a little taken back by this revelation. Clearly Tadhg hadn’t told any of them. The other men were transfixed by her tattoo.

“I don’t want trouble with the Council.”

“Life is trouble with the Council,” said Tadhg.

“Awe,” said Faye, “Poor baby. Come here. Let me pat your head.”

Tadhg flinched, remembering the pain she had given him the night before. Faye smiled as his men turned to him. He had just shown fear, weakness, in front of men who only obeyed him because he was the biggest, baddest animal in front of them. Séamus too noticed the slight change in the air. He stepped over to Tadhg and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Let’s just grab the ones we’ve already got and go,” he said, “We have more than enough. This isn’t worth the energy.”

Tadhg nodded, as if considering what the other man said. He looked back at his men, who were watching what he did carefully. Tadhg caught Séamus by the shoulder as well, looked him in the eye, and ran the ornate sword through his loyal friend. Séamus fell without making a sound. When Tadhg swung the sword to cut off his head, Séamus’s face was stuck in an expression of confusion.