The Court of the Swan

Chapter 5

Music and sunlight surrounded her as she broke from the smithy. She wiped away the red drops of blood splattered on her cheek that Douglas had coughed out with his last words. Dancers and revelers clogged her way. They were doing swing-arounds and greensleeves, zipping through partners as they linked arms faster and faster. The men were practically throwing the girls before them as the partner-switching increased with the tempo of the fiddle. Iseania dodged an errant leg and an open-hand that nearly slapped her straight in the jaw. She slowed when she saw Connor standing near the dancers, his foot tapping to the beat. He saw her as she neared and waved her over with a smile.

"Iseania, where've you been, ay? I've already had to dance with Darla and Esther Elbows. I don't think I could come up with another excuse." He saw her disheveled hair and finally noticed the tightness around her expression. "What's a matter, ay? You're paler than a bog-maid."

Iseania grabbed his wrist and tugged him from the crowd of waiting dancers. "I need you to come with me, straightway. No questions." 

He nodded and to his credit didn't say another word as Iseania led him back to the smithy.

Swallowing the bile that threatened to rise up her throat, she pushed the door open.

The horse was on the ground, its eyes closed. Its breath was almost imperceptible. 

"Aww, for Scepter sake! What happened here! Why didn't you call the stablehand or Smith Renn, Iseania?" He patted the horse's long nose, "Aww, Windwain. I'm sorry, fella."

Iseania forced herself to look down, guilt filling her. The poor horse was dead or would be, because of her. Just like the dead pigeon. "Connor, Windwain is dead. Both his legs are broke. He needs a mercy killing. But that's not why I brought you here." She pointed over next to the door, where hanging still in the shadows was Douglas' lifeless body. "There. It's Douglas. He's dead." She forced herself  to continue, "And... I killed him."

Connor turned and his eyes widened till they were small brown pools. He gently laid the horse's head down so it wouldn't drop. She wondered that even now he was so gentle with animals. He walked gingerly to Douglas' body. He touched the hook protruding from his chest, "How? He's impaled on a hook as high up as you are tall?"

"It's like I told you before, Connor. I can-" what exactly was it the she did anyways, "enter an animal's body. He had a knife out. He tried to kill me. I was so scared and, somehow, I took control of Windwain. And then I kicked and he kicked. I kicked so much. Douglas must have been knocked backwards."

"Soul-stealer." Connor sucked in his breath as if he couldn't believe the word himself. "My Grandmum, my Daw's mum, she told me stories growing up. Soul-stealers, they could make one do whatever they want. Didn't know that meant other animals too."

Iseania picked up the knife that had been thrown to the ground. Soulstealer. Is that what I am? She kneeled down next to Windwain. "Can you hold him, Connor?"

Connor sat down next to her. The horse was big even if he was weak. Connor made soothing noises to him and pressed his head against Windwain's muzzle before tightening his grip to hold him steady, "Are you sure? I could-"

"No," Iseania was adamant. "It's my fault. I owe him a quick death." She took one last look at the horse. He was such a beautiful creature. Soulstealer. Am I a creature too?  Then she took the knife and drew it against the broad expanse of his neck. As fast as she could, his thick skin still made it seem too long. He jerked and tried to get up, but Connor held him and he was too weak to fight anyways. 

The blood soaked her new dress but she had no time to worry about it. The garment now heavy pulled her down. Connor helped her as she staggered a bit to stand upright. Tears of fright and anger and sadness began to well in the corner of her eyes. She squeezed them shut to stop them. Connor just stood there waiting, not saying a word. In that moment she knew she could never have asked for a better friend.