Fantastic Tales: Volume 2

The Crippled Hawk: Part 2

Fera returned the next two mornings, staying only a few minutes to set down his tray. He no longer shouted when she opened the curtains but he didn't really talk to her either. Still, she looked forward to seeing him, even if it were only for a moment and though he cared nothing for her.

On the third morning Henry stopped her at the door. He stooped over her, a thin eyebrow raised over a sunken eye. Fera frowned up at him, expecting trouble.

'Wait a moment,' he said in a croak that echoed though the hall. He disappeared behind a tapestry, returning with a basket filled with bandages, ointments and dressings. He placed it on her tray. 'The physician says he needs his wounds anointed and his bandages changed every day, particularly the one around his wrist. He fears it's infected, but he won't let anyone touch him.' A shadow of sorrow passed over his face as he pushed the door open for her. 'I've known Lord Tyron since he was a boy. Help him.'

Fera nodded, surprised. The door shut behind her, snapping off the light. She set down the tray and opened the curtains. Lord Tyron's breathing changed but he didn't budge. Fera gazed at his bare back, his bronze skin gleaming in the light. She had a host of tasks to complete this morning and Analise would punish her if they weren't done, but she no longer cared. There were more important things. Fera watched Lord Tyron's gentle breaths, quietly admiring the contours of his muscles across his back and shoulders. She took up the basket of bandages and sat on the edge of his bed.

She felt Lord Tyron stiffen, heard his breath catch. The bed sank as he rolled over. 'What do you think you're doing?'

Fera didn't respond, keeping her back to him.

He sat up with a growl and seized her arm. Fera looked at him with a start. His eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks drawn and his hair hung around his face in a greasy curtain. He dropped his gaze to the basket and tightened his mouth. 'You presume too much. I want you to leave.'

Fera just stared at him, heart thumping in her chest.

He threw her arm away. 'I said, get out!'

When she still didn't move, he leapt to his feet with a roar. Fera sat frozen, head bowed, as he went about destroying his room: punching walls, tipping over furniture, throwing things. The stench of old urine stung her nose as his chamber pot hit the floor with a crash.

The door opened ajar. 'Lord Tyron?' came Henry's small voice.

'Out, old man!' The door clicked shut. Lord Tyron turned on Fera, his eyes flashing. 'And you!' Fera reeled back as he loomed over her, pushing his face so close to hers she could feel his hot breath against her face. 'See what I've become? Nobody should have dealings with me. I can't fight. I can barely even pull up my pants. Much less run a kingdom.' Straightening, he swung around his stump, glaring at it in disgust. 'Look at this! Nobody should live like this. I should have died out on that field like a proper knight. Not left to live the life of a cripple.' He spat on the floor. 'I've become everything I hate—half a man.'

Fera glared up at him, tears swelling in her eyes. Is that what he thought of her? Half a person? Did he hate her too? Bandages rolled across the floor as she sprang to her feet. She jabbed her finger into his chest, then tugged down her scarf so he could see her scar. She gasped and coughed and made weird noises in her throat as she tried to vent her outrage.

How dare he! Self-pity, self-loathing, self-indulgence—she had never had the luxury. Nobody cared that she woke up sweating and crying. Nobody cared that she had been raped so brutally she still ached deep inside. Nobody cared that her parents had been murdered right in front of her eyes or how she struggled day in and day out to survive. He lost an arm? She had lost her whole life!