Hunger

Part I - Chapter 25 - Harbinger - Part I

The boy darted through the crowded bazaar, and as he turned the corner, he collided with a large woman as she was bent over examining the wares of a jewelry vendor.  The boy was knocked to the ground and narrowly avoided the screeching woman’s grasp as he rolled under the table of the vendor and ran out the back of the stall.  Spying a horse drawn wagon ambling down a side street, the boy sped ahead and was barely able to leap on to the back of the wagon, unbeknownst to the driver. 

Pausing a moment to catch his breath, the boy jumped off the wagon as it turned away from the boy’s destination.  The boy poured his heart into the last leg of his journey and arrived just as the last of the serving staff was being admitted to the palace grounds.  A wave of relief washed over him only to be replaced by the realization he still had to yet climb the vast stairs to the rykery where he had been apprenticed for nearly three dyos. 

At first, the large ryke, the enormous jet and emerald colored birds used for carrying messages across the land, had terrified him.  The boy was not especially afraid of the size of the ryke, but the fierce intelligence behind their beady eyes.  He still bore countless scars and fresh cuts from the razor sharp beaks and talons of the ryke he was responsible for tending.  Yet, the boy fully understood all his parents had given up to contract this apprenticeship for him, so he bore the vicious birds for their sake.

Arriving at the rykery, the boy quietly opened the gate and winced as the Ryke Master admonished him as the Ryke Master boxed his ears.

“Late!” the gaunt Ryke Master screeched.  The boy never failed to realize the similarities of the Ryke Master’s appearance to that of the vile ryke he lived with day in and day out.

“Forgive me, Master,” the boy said, head bowed.

“I shall deal with your tardiness later,” the Ryke Master snarled.  “A message has come for Lady Hir’at and you will deliver it to her, and to her only.  Now!”  The Ryke Master shoved a sealed scroll toward the boy, and he fled the rykery with haste as the Ryke Master landed a kick on the boy’s rear to speed him along.

Scrambling down the stairs, the boy’s mind was inundated with the rumors he had heard of Lady Hir’at and her temper.  He only hoped she was in a fair mood as he ran through the servants’ hallways. 

Approaching the guard outside Lady Hir’at’s, the boy slowed to a walk and smoothed his hair and arranged his uniform. 

“State yer business, scamp.”  The guard’s voice was deep, and sounded like rocks being rubbed together.  Although his tone was not unfriendly, the boy cowered under his penetrating gaze.

“I have a message by ryke for the Lady Hir’at,” the boy said as he fumbled with the scroll to show the guard. 

“Give it ‘ere,” the guard said, reaching for the scroll.  The boy snatched the scroll to his chest, and stepped back, his eyes wide with fear.

“M-my Master said I s-should deliver it to m’lady and her alone.”

“Suit yerself, scamp,” the guard said with a snort.  The boy jumped as the guard knocked on the door with the butt of his halberd.  With a laugh that sounded more like a grunt, the guard informed the maid who answered the door of the boy’s errand, and the maid opened the door with a disapproving glance.

Once inside, the maid motioned for the boy to wait in the antechamber and disappeared into another room.  The boy marveled at the lush quarters of Lady Hir’at, yet he was overcome with a sense of dread, almost as if he was being watched, yet he was entirely sure he was alone for the moment.

The boy jumped again as the maid reappeared and beckoned to him.  Clutching the scroll to his chest, the boy walked across the antechamber.  With a nervous glance at the maid, who motioned him through the door, his heart jumped in his chest as he realized the maid was closing the door behind him, leaving him alone with Lady Hir’at.  Lady Hir’at was stirring a bowl with a dagger and peering into it. 

The boy made to approach Lady Hir’at, yet as he made to step forward, Lady Hir’at’s held up one finger and the boy froze.  He had seen that motion before, as his mother hovered over the fireplace trying to recall which ingredients she had already added and what she could add to give the meager stew more flavor.

Waiting patiently, the boy studied Lady Hir’at and wondered why he had been so terrified of her.  She was a beautiful woman, her crimson locks piled delicately on top of her head.  When she looked up at him at last, he was spellbound by her blue eyes and half-smile.  The two stared at one another before the boy came to his senses and blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“I hope your soup turns out better than my mother’s,” he said.  Lady Hir’at’s laugh filled the room and made his heart leap in an entirely different way than when he had first entered the room.

“Yes, child,” Lady Hir’at said as she settled into a plush chair.  “My soup shall be splendid.  I was informed you had something for me.” 

The boy’s face turned a deep crimson as he remembered his errand, and then paled as he saw the crumpled scroll still clutched in his hand.  The boy dropped to his knees in front of Lady Hir’at and held the crumpled paper up to her.

“Please forgive me, Lady Hir’at,” the boy said with a sob.  “I have ruined your most important message by ryke.”  The boy looked up with surprise as Lady Hir’at laughed again.

“I trust you have not been reading my private messages, child,” Lady Hir’at said with a smile and a wink.  “I am not so concerned with the state of the message as the contents.  Yet, I shall keep this crumpled secret between you and me as you bear a message I have been most anxiously awaiting.”

Relief flooded through the boy as he bowed until his face was against the lavish rug.

“Oh thank you, most generous Lady Hir’at,” the boy said, barely able to keep the emotion from his voice.

“Now, return to your master, and inform him I am most pleased.”

The boy rose and bowed again at the door as he let himself into the antechamber.  As soon as the boy was gone, Hir’at tore eagerly into the message and devoured its contents with her eyes. 

“They have been found!” she exclaimed with a happy cry.  “Ahme! Come quickly!”

“Yes, m’lady?” Ahme asked as she entered.

“Send word to Jetheel that I shall be paying him a visit.  Make sure to mention that he is to have Seventeen prepared for departure.”

“Seventeen?” Ahme asked timidly.

“Yes!  Do not bother your small brain with trying to understand, just send the message!”

“Yes, m’lady,” Ahme said and bowed out of the room.

“Oh, Rourk,” Hir’at said with a smile as she clasped her hands together eagerly.  “You sly dog!  You have located the Vagrant Gentlemen, and for that, I shall reward you handsomely.”

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