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Chapter Thirty

The flecks of snow continued to fall and melt on the heads and bodies of the demon pair when they left the humans behind, others at work, a half a dozen or more humans at least who hauled buckets made from tree bark that augmented the more ‘refined’ buckets taken from the captive village.

When Sadrahan and Liln passed them, the humans reflexively knelt, and from there, the habit spread to the demons. “Where are we going now, My Lord? Not that I mind even a moment at your side,” Liln winked up at him, “but I promised Assamo he could go on one of his runs today.”

“Runs?” Sadrahan asked and raised his right eyebrow.

Liln lowered her head and her arms fell limp, her walk lost its spring and became a trudge, “Because we failed, his wings… you know… the Great Mutilation, that’s what the rest are calling it now.” She swallowed the lump in her throat and took a gasp of air, “Because I failed to protect him, his wings were taken, like mine, like all of ours, and so he’ll never fly again. Never taste the air, never mate on the wing.” Her fists clenched and claws dug into her flesh. The pain was welcome, but it added no luster to her mournful wide eyes when they finally met Sadrahan’s again. “But he’s a boy, and young boys are resilient, he doesn’t know all of what he’s lost, not like I do. So he’s taken to running, and he’s a swift one too, he can’t take a deer from the air, so he chases them down and snaps their necks.”

Sadrahan whistled, “Remarkable. He’s that fast?”

“Yes, he and some of the other younger survivors have taken to running races out in the fields in their free time. I would join him, as would some of the rest of us, but getting ready for winter is taking up all of our time.” Liln said and forced a smile to return to her face.

Sadrahan could feel the silence stretch into an uncomfortable one before they reached the start of the fields. They weren’t quite empty, a handful of demons and humans still worked, and Batagan still stood by with a club in hand. ‘He’s looking better.’ Sadrahan thought with approval, that was true of all of them, with good meals and a slowly rising level of physical activity, the demons he’d restored were nearly back to their physical old selves.

Except for their backs.

A demon standing in the field, one with a bird’s legs and talons at the feet, and a bird’s head and beak to go with his more human torso, raised his head toward the sky as a smaller bird flew overhead. Without a second thought, the demon dropped his mattock, opened his arms, and tried to leap. His wings didn’t emerge from the flaps on his back, and he landed on the ground.

He stared up at the sky again, watching, tracking the bird that would have been his prey, his beak opened, a little cawing cry emerged from his open mouth, his body trembled, and when the bird was out of sight, only then did he pick up his tool and return to work.

“Some will never get over this ‘Great Mutilation’. They’ll never forgive it. And what can I say? My daughter is alive, she will grow wings one day. I’m alive, I have my wings intact. I can still taste the sky. My wife is gone, true, I’ve suffered loss. But the dead have no problems, and you all lost so much more than I did…” Sadrahan said, stopping to watch.

Liln stopped with him, the demon didn’t see them, and to intrude on his private loss, ‘I want to tell him something, but I don’t know what, and what could I do but shame him? I don’t even know that things will be alright. Who can know that? No one.’ Sadrahan seldom felt the weight of the responsibility on his shoulders more than at moments like that. ‘I’m just a damn farmer. How did it come to this?! I’m just figuring things out as I go, same as all of you! I just wanted to protect my daughter! I don’t know how to protect all of you!’ He wanted to shout, he wanted to roar and scream, he wanted to cry red tears of frustration.

‘Fraud. Coward. Fool. Faker. Liar.’ Sadrahan wanted to call himself that a thousand times over and more. ‘Why does everybody think I’ve got some grand detailed plan, why does everyone think I know what I’m doing?! I’ve just got a couple of scraps of wisdom and a little bit of an open mind.’ He felt claws dig into his shoulder and looked down at his side.

Liln’s face was looking up at him, ‘A true beauty, in every sense of the word.’ He had to admit her high cheekbones and steady eyes, the shapely roll of her hips when she walked slow, the long sleek lines when she moved with haste, she was as pure and perfect as any huntress out of the stories of his youth. But even she didn’t truly get it. ‘I’m lying to you, to me… I’m not motivated by some loyalty to everybody… I just… things happened. I wasn’t looking for anyone. I found Sarthas, I found you and the others… I wasn’t thinking when I went out on that rescue. It was an impulse! Not some grand plan!’ He cursed himself for a fool again, but savored the affectionate dig of her claws into his flesh.

Stolen novel; please report.

It was a comforting kind of hurt, ‘I’ve got you’ it meant, and the weight on his shoulders became just a little bit lighter.

“You won’t let us be taken, I know that. He knows that. You’ll find a way, just like you found a way to get all those people out of the pit they were stuck in. We’ll turn Stronghold into something that no hostile human will ever dream of coming near. It’ll take time, but we’ll back you. Everybody knows you’re going to do your best.” Liln promised him, and a little of the weight came back.

The wingless demon didn’t see that he was being watched, and if there was any impulse to approach him, Sadrahan lost it. “I will do that.” Sadrahan promised, a small wave of relief went over him that he could at least say something favorable.

Before she could say anything that could force him to guess, speculate, or make any plans, or risk his own hidden uncertainty slipping out in the presence of someone who believed in him, they were interrupted. “My lord!”

Batagan was waving his club back and forth over his head, calling for Sadrahan’s attention. At his feet lay a crumpled human who was clutching his stomach and twitching as if he were having a seizure.

‘What now?’ Sadrahan wondered, ‘An act of rebellion? Did he attack Batagan?’ Whatever it was, there was only one way to know. Batagan wasn’t so far away, and a cluster of humans were closing in, fidgeting, hands coming out to reach for the fallen, and then drawing back, the uncertainty was obvious.

And if it was one thing Sadrahan knew was dangerous, it was uncertainty. When he approached, the cluster of humans, as well as Batagan himself, went down to their knees and bowed their heads.

The human on the ground was foaming at the mouth, and his ‘appearance’ of a seizure was exactly what it seemed. “What happened here?!” Sadrahan demanded, “You. You.” He pointed to two humans, “Grab this one and hold him still, shove a stick or something in his mouth for him to bite on.”

“Lord, I don’t know… he was working, he was chewing on… on something, just a plant between his teeth, not even food, and he just…” Batagan gestured to the seizing human.

“Find what he was chewing on, and move him out of the way!” Liln snapped out the order and the two humans who scrambled and fumbled with the seizing body, quickly dragged him out of the way while the rest of the little knot of six or seven went down into the dirt and began sweeping their hands left and right.

The one to find it, held it up. “It was this!” She said and without rising to her feet, held it aloft. A young woman, in her late teens by Sadrahan’s estimate, her face still relatively fresh with youth, apple faced and a bit dirty and sweaty, her clothing somewhat rough, her cheeks a little more hollow than they should have been.

‘Wait… When I said quarter rations… did I specify demon… or ‘human’ rations?’ Sadrahan asked himself, and couldn’t recall. ‘I probably didn’t specify anything, so who knows how much they’ve been getting?’ The thought came and went, and he focused on the matter at hand. The plant she held up was a fading purple shade, unfamiliar to him, he asked, “Has anyone else been chewing on these?”

“N-Not those. But we all chew things… plants… sap, whatever we can… we’re hungry… so anything will do…” She tried to answer clearly, “This’n, this plant, it grows over there.” She pointed toward the far end of the field, “We cleared a lot of it out, but there’s a lot of it.”

“Do you have a wise woman, a healer of any kind?” Sadrahan asked, the human curled on his side had his fingers curled and he was heaving and foaming, flecks of spittle dripped down his face and pooled in the dirt. “I’ve never seen this plant before, and I’ve never treated a human.”

Batagan pointed to his club, “It might be easier to just,” he slapped his club into his waiting palm, “get it over with, My Lord.”

“For getting sick? No.” Sadrahan quipped. The young woman nodded her head while the humans focused their eyes upward on Sadrahan as if he were their savior rather than their captor.

“Shala, and… and my mother, they were both herbalists or… I think that is what you call ‘wise women’?” The young woman answered.

“Then you two,” Sadrahan pointed to the two who still lay holding the shaking body into place, “Take him to your quarters and stay with him.” He then pointed to the young woman, “Go and have your ‘herbalists’ examine him. Have one stay with him and treat him until he recovers or dies.”

“You… you’ll let us treat him?” She asked, “Not-?”

Sadrahan let his eyes fall to the young woman, “I’ve heard about what your priests tell you about us. I do not ‘eat’ humans. Now do as I’ve said, and whoever isn’t treating him should go out and inspect the other plants… if that one is poisonous, maybe others are too.”

That caused eyes to turn toward the wilderness beyond the fields with a more dreadful eye. “Who knows what plants are out there, what dangers, and what other monsters? So far it’s been fruit, vegetables, goats, and bears, mostly. But if there are unknown poisonous plants? Why not more dangerous monsters or creatures?” Sadrahan asked the question rhetorically, but it left a shuddering effect on the minds of the listeners.

“Finish your work clearing this ground, and those who are going hunting tomorrow should take extra care not to stray too far from the others.” Sadrahan reminded them, and then glanced down at Liln, “Let’s go, your son wants his run, and there’s nothing more we can do here.”

“As my Lord wills.” Liln answered, and when they were gone, Batagan looked at the still kneeling cluster of humans…

“He’s more merciful than you wing cutters… why he protects you from us when it would be so much easier to just… if it were up to me… but it isn’t.” Batagan relaxed and tapped his club on his shoulder, “Go on,” he snapped, “Get up, finish your portion, and theirs, and go back to your quarters!”

The little knot of humans did as he bade, returning to their tools, and with glances occasionally back and the Demon Lord shrinking into the distance.