Bird of a Cage [BoW 4]

Chapter 9

The caravan creaked on, every bump rocking through Taidra. After a while, he got used to it. His leg stopped cramping from the violent movement. His heart stopped jarring from the movement. He stopped clawing around for something to hold, for Feno to stable him. No one was there to stable him. He was alone.

Time mixed, both going too fast and too slow. Moments dragged and yet the cycle of day to night flew by. Every second was filled with nothingness.

Sounds repeated. The heavy clomps of the horses against the mud was constant as the wood creaked around him. Metal occasionally clanged from the packed up boxes. His guards occasionally chatted to each other. The low grunts and whispers of half caught words sent his A.I into spirals that went nowhere. If he was lucky, a bird would hoot overhead or in the mornings sing with the joy of living. Some days rain pattered against the covering, some days the wind would howl against it and some days it was silent.

The musty smell faded with time. More from him never leaving the space than anything else. When the bodyguards opened the back of the tarp to give Taidra food and to let him go to the bathroom, a draft of fresh hair wrapped around him with the freshness of trees and plants.

It was always cold. The blanket was heavy but the coldness never went away. He didn't ask for another blanket.

The whispers of words he heard, the guards weren't impressed with delivering a disabled man to Benson. He didn't want to give them more ammunition against him. The men changed from time to time, handing him off to the next group and switching off. None of them greeted him or said parting words to him. Even the ones who treated him with kindness did not acknowledge their coming or going. It was intentional. Benson's location was intensely protected.

Taidra could respect their drive but he didn't trust them without Feno there to watch his back. He never would again.

In the moments where Taidra's heart wasn't weeping and his mind wasn't numb with the greyness of his world now, his mind was alert and span with his A.I with theories of how the guards were going to slit his throat in his sleep. Which of the men who rotate through his consciousness would be the one to do it? The kind one who rubbed his leg during one particular bad cramp? The one who had roughly helped him use the bedpan before muttering about the Dmar not having the wrong idea with how to deal with people damaged beyond use? The ones who silently gave him food without meeting his eyes and took the remains with cold hands? Before his mind could focus on one in particular, grief would set in again and leave him shaking with tears, unable to call out for help lest they kill him there and then.

His leg was a scarred mess of flesh and missing muscle. It carved into his calf, giving it a jarring effect for the world to see. The burns spread up and curled around his thigh and partly onto his right leg His skin was starting to heal but the muscles were still too weak to even attempt to stand on. The guards were keen to keep him in the caravan regardless but he feared being asked to stand. His knees were weak. His lungs burned with the smoke damage. He'd have to bet that his asthma was back. After his nightmares, his breathing hurt and his chest tightened like he was about to have an attack.

The only thing that hurt more than his leg was his chest. His ribs ached and his stomach twisted. The first day he had hoped and prayed that Feno would change his mind and ride after them. He didn't come.

He ate as little as possible. He drank if he saw the guard drink first. He slept, waking him to the lightest sounds. No kisses came. Not the reassuring ones of Feno guarding him. Not the teasing forehead ones of the brats playing their games. They might be following. Taidra wasn't sure. Logically Ravn would try but diving this deep into Namya lands without someone to protect them was a suicide mission at best.

Inai no longer needed him. Feno's abandoned him. Sakmi had a plan for his skills to help the Dmar win. Feno abandoned him. His leg was useless now. He was covered in new scars. Some might call him lucky. The flames had not marred his face. They span around him in a dark dance of accusations and promises. Feno's old promise to always stay by his side mixing with the declaration that he was leaving and merging into a thing of horror.

The world was grey. Colour didn't exist beyond the orange and reds of the fire surging through him. The angry red of his scars matched the red of the fire.

Blue. There were also tones of blue. It was a muted thin that gave the guards the look of walking dead. With their tattoos, they might be considered so. The first few groups were regular soldiers. Then somewhere, the Hour took over. They were people who did not exist past the councils need for them. If the council decided to overrule Inai, the Hour would dispose of him in a heartbeat.

He missed Feno's warmth next to him when he slept. Everyone had nightmares. Feno chased his ones away. No longer. Instead, he haunted them. Those final words mixing with soft moments they'd shared. A hand-rubbed over his skin tenderly, soft kisses pressed to the back of his knee as Feno massaged his back on the beach near Feno's hometown. Birds sang around them as they walked through a forest in springtime, only to turn into them dancing at a Gala in the capital.

Feno chose someone else over him.

And then weeks later, they arrived.

a/n: Sorry for the short chapter. The next one will be longer. We're finally at the base. Not 100% decided on a timeline yet but the Cai'ress incident has definitely happened now. Most likely a week into Taidra's journey it occurred. Unless I state otherwise, Taidra was in transport and heartbroken for around 6-7 weeks. The Royal's have three and a half months before they must return to the front upon Taidra arriving at the base. 

Question for readers: Should I start putting scenes from Navat (and with Nel'os in general) in or should I leave the events there a secret until Nel'os appears at the base? I keep flip-flopping on the issue.