LAVANTSA

#2 - Charity, page 2

"It is beautifully quiet, but it is lonely, too. It is easy to forget your life as a townsperson, as one who works for the coin for their bread. Yet sometimes I fear forgetting my friends, the people who have touched my life. So, all told it is somewhat wonderful and yet something one might dread, also."

"Well, if it seems that you have forgotten me, I will cook rabbit, your favourite meat, to bring you back to me," said Smithy, his manner light of heart.

Charity smiled widely.

"I would certainly return for rabbit."

***

At dusk, they arrived at the village of Roncaester, Charity on horseback, once more wearing her tunic, her wings put away and Smithy on foot as they approached, so as not to frighten the village's inhabitants. Though a past King of Meridia had outlawed the killing of magical persons by his subjects, attitudes towards witches varied, and some people could be quite hostile towards them. For that reason, Charity bid Rona sleep in the wild that night: phoenixes would only keep the company of a fire-witch. She and Smithy supped and stabled the horse at a tavern, where they were well looked after by amicable hosts.

In the morning, Charity was brushing her long, waved brown hair when sudden pain sharp lanced through her heart, so sharp that she cried out and dropped to her knees, letting go of her hairbrush. What she saw became the vision of Rona, in the colours of black, white, grey and red. Three roughly dressed men were standing on the ground and Rona was looking down upon them, presumably from a tree. One of the men was wielding a crossbow and the agony lancing through Charity told her that the weapon had been used.

"No!" cried Charity, anguished by the cruelty which these men had displayed towards a bird whom she cherished as a friend.

"Charity?!" Smithy had run in from his own room in the tavern, apparently having heard her cry.

The pain began to fade as warmth filled Charity's body. Rona screamed shrilly, spreading her wings as she burst into flames the colour of emeralds, startling the men in front of the tree.

Rona's vision blurred in the torrent of her phoenix-fire and turned to starless night.

Returning to herself, Charity forced herself to her feet, defying the residual throb in her chest and ran from the room, down the stairs and out of the tavern, with Smithy running after her, calling her name and questions about her actions.
Charity darted through the village, narrowly dodging the people going about their daily business, and arrived at the scene, a few yards outside the village, where one man had fetched a pail of water, which he threw over the now burning tree. It did not quench the fire.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" she screamed at the men.

"We slew a firebird," said one, watching the tree fearfully. "It set the tree on fire. We didn't know 'twas a firebird - it merely looked good to eat."

"You wanted to eat my phoenix?!" Heat surrounded her hands and Charity looked down to see that they were engulfed in lively flames.

"You're a witch!" cried the man. His fellow - though not the one who had brought the useless water - had been watching the tree burning with perverse interest, but now turned to regard Charity.

"Your phoenix? What are you doing in Roncaester, witch?"

"They say you devour children to gain your unnatural powers," exclaimed his easily frightened comrade.

"Charity!" Smithy ran to her side and stopped, gasping for breath, laying his hands upon his thighs.

"Charity?" repeated the calm man, grinning. "What perverse joke is your name? No witch is charitable."

"Cease your... mockery," panted Smithy, standing to his full height.

"How endearing: you have a giant who loves you - is he the only one?"

"Your words will get you killed," warned the fearful one, glancing once more at Charity and Smithy, before deciding to run away in the direction of the village.

"Your friend is wise to run," said Charity coldly.

"Charity, do not rise to his taunts: he is not worth the trouble," Smithy said to her.

"No, no, I dare you," said the foolish aggravator. "Show your wicked heart, witch. The old king was mad to protect your kind.

Charity closed her eyes and reined in the fire. A clash of swords forced her eyes open. Smithy was standing before her, his blade against that of the other man.

"You were going to try to kill me while my eyes were closed?!"

"A swift death is more than your kind deserves." The man gritted his teeth with the effort of holding off Smithy's sword. But Smithy pushed harder and the man was knocked backwards.

"Flee before I end your life," he growled.

The man turned and ran, followed by the companion of his who had brought the bucket of water, but a few feet away, he stopped and spun on his heel, shouting "This is not admission of defeat! We will call the villagers to action! You will be hunted!" Then, he continued upon his way.

Smithy sheathed his sword, frowning.

"We had best heed his words and leave. While you collect Rona, I will reclaim our belongings and our horse."

Charity nodded, watching the flames for signs of emergent life. As Smithy left her side, she began to hear a sweet, soft chirping.

"Rona," she whispered, drawing near to the three and reaching into the fire, which was harmless to her, to retrieve the small, fragile form of a phoenix chick. She retreated, cradling the featherless pink bird in both of her hands, feeling tears wet her cheeks. She did not know if she was crying because of the cruel manner in which Rona had been killed or because seeing the vulnerable new life in her palms moved her.

When Smithy returned with the horse and their possessions, Charity handed Rona to him, lowering herself to the ground to ding in the earth for worms, which she crushed and fed to the phoenix chick. She then wrapped Rona carefully in a spare tunic and tucked her into a saddlebag.

"Ride gently now," she told Smithy. "I will not be able to fly until she has grown fully once more."

"In that case, you may sit on the horse. I will walk beside you."

"For a while shall we travel in that manner. But I insist that you take my place on the horse every so often."

Smithy smiled.

"I know that there will be an argument if I refuse."

"And I know that you prefer to avoid arguments. So, it will be as I say."

Smithy nodded and Charity mounted the horse.

"What was happening in the village?"

"All were a-feared, since that first man was running about shouting of a witch, but when those other men arrived, their leader, so to speak, began to rouse them to action, speaking of plans that they ought to make to pursue you."

"I was lucky to find the town of Vander and make my home there, I see."

"Indeed," said Smithy sadly.

"We shall remain on our guard, then, Smithy. Though Rona's regeneration has weakened me, I believe that I retain enough of my abilities to ward off our enemies."

"And I, of course, have my sword. We shall still make it to Meridia, Charity. This will not deter us."