[Belin]

The conversation between Fingot and Pip'kha was not, in reality, a private one, and it was not Kadwyr alone who listened unobtrusively from above, though what the others heard and what they thought of it, Kadwyr neither knew nor cared. He was occupied with thoughts of his own.

Speech or no, Sparrowbane is afraid.

Kadwyr shuddered. The old crow's wisdom and fearlessness had been among the founding principles he had been taught from nest and shell. The sky was wide, the dead were theirs, what was secret must be discovered, who had power must be obeyed, fire was fearsome, and Fingot was right. And if Fingot was afraid, then Brak had been right as well.

Kadwyr had kept silent during the tense moments before Brak's expulsion. He was no such upstart crow himself, and knew well what would happen to Brak's followers before he saw it. He was far more afraid of Akaaw than of any manner of ghost or elf, but Fingot's worry gave him pause.

But Fingot was old, he reflected, and Kadwyr himself was a crow of action and of sight. Worries were not for him. With a slight, calculating glance at Akaaw, he veered off, searching and spying. It was Kadwyr's sharp eyes that caught the city first. Its stones were hidden under trees and under brambles, and it was somewhat to the east of where they had been searching, still and silent, and even Eschkor at first did not see it.

"That pile of stone?" he said quietly, when Kadwyr had finally succeeded in showing him where it was. "We seek men there? Living ones? I can't imagine anything more than old treasures and bugs between the stones."

"Those, and thorns to pierce our feet, and hungry owls in the tower," answered Kadwyr, moodily. "And whatever it is that Fingot fears." He ignored the startled sound the Eschkor made deep in his throat, scanning the ground with care. "We will see, no?"

Eschkor nodded, and he and Kadwyr dove toward the city of secrets, leaving the others to circle it carefully, looking for whatever they might find. If there were old treasures, they were not for the whole of his company. Indeed, he would not have brought Eschkor toward the city if it were not for the deep misgivings in the back of his mind.

And he still hadn't seen anything move when the first rock hit him, hard, and he was thrown off his balance. With a cry of pain and anger, he veered around, searching for Eschkor, trying to regain his bearings, seeing nothing. A voice spoke nearby, words he did not know, and as he flew toward it in his panic and his anger, he suddenly felt himself caught and pulled to the ground.

Kadwyr, you fool, he thought in disgust, held prisoner by hands he could not see. He looked to the sky, hoping to see Eschkor, and was startled to see a ragged band of crows, flying low and slowly toward him. Brak.

To warn him would be to be a traitor, and Kadwyr was in no mood for generosity in any case. He gave up watching their approach (very near, by now), and concentrated on his ineffective struggles against whatever it was the held him, a thing that seemed to care little for claw or beak.

[ March 22, 2003: Message edited by: Belin ]