Chronicles of Han Storm - Leilaka #1 (Fantasy, Adventure, Dragon Riders)

Leilaka ***Chapter 7***

I woke to the sound of disaster in the making.

"You horrid bird! Get out of my chamber! Shoo!"

"No, no, no! I want Han! I want food!"

"Strongclaw!" I shouted above the noise of overturning chairs and breaking crockery.

The Raven closed its beak and dived into my lap, hiding itself under the blanket.

"Please leave him be" I told the Dwarf.

The healer stood in front of the bed, holding a broom, ready to beat the bird should it present itself from under the blanket.

"It is a nasty and unclean animal. Now I will have to sterilize the whole area again" he complained.

"If you give us food, he will be out of your room soonest" I promised the upset Dwarf.

The healer turned and stormed out, leaving us in peace.

Strongclaw climbed out from under the blanket, preened some of his feathers and hopped onto my knee.

"Are you better?" he wanted to know from me.

"Not really. I am still feeling miserable with a headache that is threatening to overwhelm me again."

"Is he bringing food?"

Typical Raven mentality. Food first.

"Yes. What had you been up to while I slept?"

"There are quite a few females around the castle. They make interesting pursuing."

Just what I needed. A Raven looking for a mate.

"It is not exactly breeding season, with Winter around the corner, you know" I informed the bird.

"It is always good to keep your options open" he replied with a naughty glint in his eyes.

We kept quiet as the door opened.

Connor entered with a tray of food.

"Reif did not want to deal with your Raven" he explained at my inquiring glance.

"Are you feeling better?" he wanted to know.

I gave him the exact same answer as I had given Strongclaw.

Connor looked worried as he placed the tray on my lap. It held steaming porridge with a dried-out loaf of bread on the side.

"For the Raven" Connor explained regarding the bread.

Tossing the bread out the window, Strongclaw swept down and caught it in a claw before disappearing beyond my vision.

I dug into the oatmeal, not worrying about pretence. I used to love this stuff, whether in this life or wherever I came from.

Sitting back after the meal I felt satisfied for the first time since waking up in that precarious position on the cliff.

"Thank you" I told Connor.

"Craig said you used to hate oatmeal, preferring to go hungry rather than eat the 'measly stuff'. Do you care to comment, or do you want Reif here when we question you?"

Another test that I had failed.

"It will not do you much good. I do not have memory either way. My life started on an overhang halfway down a cliff, with memories of a man with hazel eyes whose throat was slit, the blood squirting over my face. And a hand with a green ring hitting me with the hilt of the dagger used for the execution."