The Lord of the Crows

Part 25 - Old Wounds

She didn't seem surprised to see me.

"How did it go?"

"Not too well," I replied, taking off my cloak. "It's snowing."

She raised her eyebrows but didn't ask me anything further. I hung up my cloak but remained standing by the door.

"My father is having a very strange day. My day turned out to be just as strange after meeting him."

"He didn't recognize you?", she asked.

I exhaled.

"I'm not sure. He kept repeating that I was a friend of his son, that we had served together. But ... the only friend of mine my father knew ... died ... on the Day of the Fall."

She was staring at me, silently.

"The man whose neck you broke because ..." she finally whispered.

"Because he assaulted a child!" I cut her off. She shivered. "Because he raped the child ...", I repeated quietly. "But my father doesn't know that. He was not supposed to know that as he was not supposed to know what had happened almost a quarter of a century ago in the Lagrenian labyrinth. And yet, somehow, he did."

She sighed and shook her head.

"There is a reasonable explanation for that, you know. You're delusional when feverish. Maybe your father just connected the stories and made his own version of events. It would not be the first time something like that had happened ... "

I nodded. It could have been, but ... it couldn't explain everything. Couldn't explain ...

"Why does he keep saying she told him?"

"She?" Daina raised an eyebrow.

My 'woman'. That's how he addressed her. Why was he so persistent that he saw 'my woman' and that she told him.

Daina was waiting for my answer. I glanced at her and muttered abruptly:

"Take it off."

"Excuse me?!"

I crossed my arms over my chest and repeated.

"Take your shirt off."

Her face froze.

"No."

"Take your goddamn shirt off or I'll rip it off you!" I snapped.

A dagger formed in her hand and her whole body took a fighting stance. Shocked by my own words, I raised my hands immediately.

"I'm sorry, Daina. I'm so sorry, please ... I won't, I won't hurt you. "

She didn't move and I didn't dare take a step towards her.

"I won't hurt you," I whispered again.

One tear slid down her cheek.

"Don't," I muttered, "please... please don't cry."

My chest ached; that one tear seemed to open a deep, unhealed wound. I turned and punched the door as strong as I could. The splinters drove into the knuckles of my insufficiently recovered hands, and the blood started running down my fingers. It crossed my mind that both Peck and Lela were going to curse me for that in the morning, but I did not care. It did not matter.

I fell to my knees and pressed my fists against my face.

"Please don't cry ..." I repeated.

I heard the dull sound of the blade being laid on the bed and the rustling of the fabric.

"Turn around."

I shook my head. More than anything, I wanted to see that damn piece of canvas, which stood like an evil sign between us, removed, to see the outlines of her naked body, which my touch already knew perfectly and painted in my mind, but not like this. Not this way.

"Get dressed, please. I'm sorry. I was driven mad by the words of an old, ill man. I would never hurt you."

I felt a gentle touch of warm palms on my shoulders.

"I know you wouldn't, my Crow. Turn around."

I shook my head again. Not like this, not this way.

"You asked me and was denied the answer why I hate your people so much", I whispered. "I don't hate them, I told you, I have never. I hated – and still do hate – the actions of my own people."

Her arms slid around my neck and I felt her cling to me. I stroked the hand that hugged me and touched it lightly with my lips.

"Now, when I look back ... I was just a kid when they sent me to Mount Strife. Being bold, full of myself and raw power, a well-trained but fresh and new, green like the forest in the springtime, when it comes to warfare. Until the Day of the Fall, we only hunted some outlaws and robbers on a couple of occasions. Besides, we were the liberators, the hope of the people of Strife. Those to end the terror of Lagrenians ... I may have been young and crazy, but I was neither blind nor stupid. It didn't take me long to figure it out. The people, the same people to whom we should have brought freedom, was constantly being robbed, exiled, abused. Their properties were robbed, set on fire, their wives and daughters were raped, ... all for the sake of blind justice. Maybe the people at Strife were afraid of you, but they did not despise you and, above all, they did not want new rulers. It was just well-designed handwashing from the conquering desires that we were pursuing. The war had its tools, young meat blindly dedicated to the goal ... "

I fell silent. Her cheek laid on my shoulder, and the fine sweet scent of her skin seemed soothing and encouraging. She smelled slightly different.

"What happened in the labyrinth that day?"

I closed my eyes.

"We got lost ..."