Shadows Bleed

II (Revised 13.10.2015)

II

I repeatedly tried, and failed, to find some rational explanation for what I had just witnessed.

Two corpses lay on the ground beside me. The grass red with blood, the earth soft and wet beneath it, staining my slippers.

I glanced up. The sun was nearly gone, a sliver-thin edge all that remained. As if to affirm my fears, the rattle of an approaching horse-and-cart echoed from across the field. They were going to ask me what happened to the guards. Somehow, I doubted they would believe what had happened.

I could blame it on him, on the man from the sky. Though, now I thought about it, that didn't seem any more believable than a lion, a rare Isvartian Pantheras no less, attacking them.

Or I could run. I could flee and never look back. I knew how to fend for myself, I could do it again. Lorne's sword laid at my feet, wallowing in a puddle of blood. I knelt down, wetting my knees and picking the weapon up. Its weight was familiar and comfortable. I could do this.

Lirhael's face appeared in my mind, followed immediately by mother's face. Could I really abandon them? Surely I could come back for them, once I was stronger. A nicker and the clip-clop of hooves tore me from my daydreaming.

"Oi! Hurry up and haul ass. Gotta get back before dark."

The cart and its obnoxious driver stopped at the top of the hill. It was time to go. The sword fell from my hands, sinking into the cold earth. But my spirits did not go with it. I had rotted as a slave for long enough. It was time to finally leave this wretched hole.

Even as I wandered up to the cart I began to plan my escape in my mind. The first thing I needed to do was meet with the man from the sky.

***

"Where are your guards?" the driver asked as I approached the cart.

"Dead," I responded, pointing to my blood-stained slacks and slippers.

Either out of habit or fear, his hand flew to the short sword strapped to his waist. But that was where it stayed. He opened his mouth to speak.

"I didn't kill them," I answered his question before he could ask it.

"Then what did?"

"A lion. See for yourself."

"Hmm," he mumbled, removing his hand from the hilt of his blade. "I don't really believe you but there's little we can do about it now. I'll have the Warden send a patrol to check in the morning. We've gotta get back."

I rolled my eyes and hopped in the back of the cart. No doubt the driver assumed the Warden would deal with me tomorrow. He would be enjoying his dinner around now and, by the time we returned to the camp, would be long drunk.

It wasn't for the driver to know, but I had no intention of sticking around until the morning.

***

As it turned out, the Warden was long asleep by the time I returned that evening, fermented grapes having gotten the better of him. Naturally, a sleeping man was in no position to summon me to his quarters. So it was that I retired for the night with my family.

The first thing I noticed when I entered our cabin upon returning to the compound was the additional floor space. Our numbers were down almost half a dozen. I bowed my head in respect for those who had failed to meet the minimum yields. My fists simultaneously clenching in fury at the thought of the Warden and his brutal rules.

"Try not to let it bother you darling," mother said as I sat down against the far wall, beside her.

"How did you–"