A Court of Souls and Shadows

40. Raven

Content warning: Graphic depictions of violence. Graphic sexual content. 18+

Songs for this chapter: 

Can You Feel My Heart - Bring Me The Horizon

I'll Look After You - The Fray

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I'd managed to break three of my fingers without drawing notice to myself when a commotion on the outskirts of the camp drew the attention of the soldier guarding me. Panic gripped my heart as it thundered in my chest. If there was something wrong, I would be moved, and I would miss my only chance of escape. I gripped the rock tighter, biting down on my bottom lip as I smashed it into the fourth and fifth fingers of my left hand. I swallowed a cry as they snapped on impact. My guard took a small step outside of the tent to investigate the commotion, and I drove the rock into the top of my left hand with everything I had. I swallowed a cry of pain as the bones in the top of my hand splintered under the impact. My guard stepped back inside the tent, fumbling for the keys to my shackles.

"What's going on?" I asked, feigning innocence as I slipped my broken left hand from the shackles. "You're being moved," the guard grumbled, crouching down before me to unlock the shackles at my feet. I waited patiently for him to remove them from my ankles, my body trembling in anticipation of what I was about to do. Once the shackles were pulled free, he leant forward to reach for the ones behind my back, and I made my move. I swung my right hand around, shackle still attached, and wrenched his dagger free from the sheath at his side. His reaction was slow as he grappled with his surprise, and I drove the blade up underneath his chin and straight through his skull, blood spraying in its wake.

I didn't have time to attempt to unlock the shackle hanging from my right hand, and I wouldn't be able to with my broken left hand regardless. I shoved the soldier's dead body to the side, quickly stripping him of his cloak and draping it around my own shoulders. I pulled the hood up to conceal my face, before retrieving my sword, that the fucker had claimed for himself. I pulled it from the sheath at his back, clutching it close by my side, before creeping towards the back of the tent.

The shouts outside the tent increased in volume, as heavy footfalls thundered past in the opposite direction. I put my face to the ground, lifting the bottom of the tent to peek outside. I was met with nothing but darkness. The coast was clear. I shimmied underneath the tent on my stomach, grimacing as my broken hand scraped against the hard ground.

I waited for a moment, listening, as I laid still on my stomach, hidden in the shadows. I lifted my head slightly, searching the space around myself, before slowly pushing to my knees. I clenched my jaw, ignoring the pain in my broken hand as I clutched the cloak closer around my shoulders, tightening my grip on my sword with my good hand, the shackle swinging against my thigh.

I didn't know the layout of the entire camp, only the way I'd come. And the way I'd come was currently cluttered with soldiers running in that direction. I pushed myself to stand, craning my neck to determine the source of the commotion. Great plumes of smoke filled the sky, towering flames below them destroying the tents at the edge of the camp. I smiled to myself, thanking the stars for good luck at last.

I turned on my heel and hurried in the other direction, pressing my body to the shadows in between the narrow rows of tents. I pulled the cloak as tight as I could around my body in an effort to conceal my armour. I didn't have time to take it off, and it drew attention, the bright silver reflecting the moonlight overhead. I hurried forward, my eyes darting in every direction as I held my blade with a white-knuckled grip, praying to whatever Gods there were that I wouldn't run into any soldiers. I had no such luck.