The City Under the Ice by Barbara Bretana - HTML preview

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Chapter 40

It was past midnight before my bird faltered. She had fallen behind Blackfin and it was evident she was struggling to catch up so he circled his bird and told me it wasn’t much further to the island where the birds could rest. Still it was another hour before I caught the scent of vegetation and warm-blooded life. The birds smelled it, too. They picked up their pace and extended their wing strokes. I saw it first; a warmer blot against the cooler waters and presently, a long, low island appeared in the moonlight. The birds glided in and if the landing was a trifle rough, at least it was on dry land and all in one piece. As soon as my mount touched the sand of the shallow beach, I slid off and took the reins over her head leading her into the brush towards the high point of the island where I could set up a camp of sorts.

The vegetation here was brushy with few trees and those were coconuts and date palms. There were several varieties of citrus fruit and a few stunted apples.

The hump I had seen coming in was surrounded by trees and bunch grass. The closer we came to the clearing, the more we spooked frilled lizards that ran from us in comic fashion standing on their hind legs with tail fan extended. A few skittered between my condorla’s feet and she snagged them with her beak swallowing them in two bites.

By the time I had set up camp, fed my bird and started a fire, Blackfin had joined us. He unloaded his backpack; from it, he removed food, water, a table, chairs and dinnerware for one. I cooked while he washed his face and hands, settling himself in the chair and relaxed. While his dinner cooked, I caught a brace of the lizards feeding them to the birds.

“Master, do they need to drink? What do I give them?” I asked hesitantly stroking the ugly head of the pair. Their eyes were round and black, their heads bone with pig-like bristles and their beaks could crush a man’s bones, yet the one rubbed its forehead into my chest as it warbled at me.

“There is no water on this island,” he shrugged. “You can try feeding it coconut milk.”

“Coconut milk?”

He pointed to the tall trees that resembled umbrellas and the hairy cannonball sized fruit hanging from its underside. I tied the birds and climbed the trunk, finding it easy to ascend the layered bark. Reaching the fruit, I knocked down near a dozen and they hit the ground with a sloshy thump. After that, I used Blackfin’s sword to cut them open and he watched me with hard eyes as if he feared that I might use it on him.

“Master,” I said softly looking at him with the blade held over the nut. “I would never hurt you.”

“Hopeless.” He shook his head. “I don’t want your love,” he sneered. “Just your craving fear.”

“You have that, master,” I returned. I tried a sip of the milk, found it refreshing with a light taste and offered him an opened nut. He shook his head and I fed the birds. Both of them stuck their beaks into the liquid, drank and then swallowed the whole thing. I kept my hands out of the way. “Do they human flesh?”

“I don’t know, Tobias. I suspect so since they’re bred from birds of prey. They are much like a hawk.”

“Master, what made you like you are?” I asked leaning against the tree trunk. I rubbed my neck where a chain had been attached to the collar. The weight of the chain had dragged causing chafing that was worse than a burn. I saw some spotted rosewort and rubbed it on the sores relieving the heat.

“You want my life story?” He mocked. “Shall I tell you why I became evil and depraved? What makes you think I wasn’t born from my mother’s womb like this?”

“What was your mother like?” I asked, sliding down the trunk onto my knees as he leaned forward in his chair, his blue eyes curiously darkened almost to black.

“She died birthing me. I didn’t know her,” he answered.

“So who raised you?”

“A wet nurse, tutors and women my father the Emperor took to bed.”

“My father loved me. He played games with me and taught me to be happy,” I mused. “He taught me how to ride, fish and hunt. How to tickle a trout and make a campfire that did not go out. My mother gave me skills like sewing, weaving and cooking. How to dance and make music.”

“Your parents are dead,” he retorted.

“No, they are not,” I returned softly. “As long as they are in my heart, they live. I wish you had a childhood like mine, Master Blake.”

He cursed me, stood up so abruptly that his chair fell over and he disappeared into the tent. He didn’t have to tell me to stay and in truth, there was nowhere for me to go. I couldn’t leave to explore the island because I needed to be within earshot should he call me.

Still, that left me free to explore the area around the camp. There were the palm trees and a wide variety of underbrush – some with great big flowers in crimson and yellow. The lizards had scattered after I’d caught so many and that was when I noticed the lack of birds. Even this late at night, one used to hear them peeping and cooing yet here, there was nothing but the sound of the surf and the rustling of a shore breeze through the trees, the heavier thumps of the condorlas’ feet on the sand and the flutter as they stretched  their wings.

I thought I heard the sound of a little boy sobbing. In the morning, Blackfin woke me. He had already saddled the birds and had my drink ready for me. I did not comment on his red swollen eyes as I slowly swallowed the blood he had packed in a metal container.

We took off from the beach as the birds needed a running start and I was not unhappy to see the island disappear into the distance. The hours passed in silence that was thick with tension. I knew to keep my mouth shut lest I anger him and he punish me. I could tell he was angry by the set lips and flat eyes and I suddenly pitied him more than I feared him. Yet, I dared not show it.