Victory's Price

Wolf (Part Sixty - Three)

Chapter 63

When Wolf awoke, Phoenix no longer lay opposite him on the cold, bare floor. He stirred, rising to his feet, only to find her staring out the window.

"Phoenix..." He began but she turned, a finger to her lips.

"Do you hear that?" She whispered.

He joined her, allowing the soft morning sunlight to drift across his shoulders. She did not flinch away as he pushed against her to retrieve a place on the sill.

In the early morning quiet, the worrying sound of drums drifted across the still air. Wolf peered down the street, trying to locate the sound.

"What do you think it is?" He asked as the high keening of a horn joined the steady beat.

"I can hear feet." Phoenix continued to whisper. "Steady, disciplined."

"Not my brother then."

"No peasants either."

They were quiet for a minute, listening.

"It's getting closer." Wolf said.

"Won't pass by here." The Phoenix replied. And they both knew what they were going to be doing next.

With a challenging smile, Phoenix clasped his shoulder briefly and then proceeded to throw herself out of the first floor window, bouncing off the facade of the house opposite, its tilt so exaggerated that the two buildings almost touched. She hopped onto the supporting beams of the ground floor ceiling and slithered, via the window on the floor below, to the street.

Wolf took the stairs.

"It will be going to the keep, whatever it is." He told her, smiling as she waited impatiently for him to join her side.

Phoenix continued to glare but instead of the recoil he knew she expected, Wolf experienced a strange urge to tease her, to take her in his arms and smooth out those hackles of hers.

The desire passed just quickly enough but something about it seemed to infect her. She smiled.

"We will be taking the roofs." She announced, impaling his chest with a finger.

"Why bother? Nothing on the ground can threaten us."

Phoenix grinned. It was unsettling.

"Stupid revenge." He muttered, knowing she would be able to hear him, as she pulled herself off the ground.

He already knew she was athletic, he already knew she was quick. But, as Wolf finally managed to drag himself over the eaves, she was gone.

"Stupid revenge." He repeated, taking in the new sight that greeted him.

The Central Plateau was a beautiful place from above. Where he stood now, the city seemed almost untouched; a single entity of thatch and slate. But as he lifted line of his eye upwards, taking in the distant keep, more evidence of this messy war came into sight. Smoke drifted lazily across the Eastern horizon. It heralded no obvious blaze but rather the sign of small fires, continuing to burn unchecked. No disciplined city would be left to smoulder for so long.

Wolf's feet crackled as he tread lightly across neglected tiles, the top layers of slate crumbling beneath his touch. It would, at least, be a simple case of a straight line to where he was going.

Lifting his gaze to take in the full scope of the distance, Wolf realised he should have been able to locate the Phoenix on this flat expanse.

And it was this realisation that gave him the split second of warning he required. She span out from behind him but he was already drawing his blade, already aware of her coming. Victory slammed into the battered surface of his peasant's blade rather than the meat of his stomach.