Birds of Paradise - 8. Chapter 8

It stopped raining in the hours before dawn. Cy walked beside the tired horses in order to stay awake, hand on a halter to support him when he stumbled. Caked in mud clear up to his knees despite the cloak, he stared blearily up at the sky when the clouds parted briefly to reveal the moon beginning to sink below the horizon.

Only the hard-packed dirt over stone beneath his feet had kept them on the road during the dark, rain-soaked night, and now Cy cast about for a good place to camp. They would rest for a few hours before continuing on. There was nothing suspicious about a merchant wagon during the day; the same could not be said at night, and they had lost their cover with the rainstorm's end.

He kept the horses moving for another couple of miles that felt like an eternity now that he was aware of how exhausted he was. He directed the horses around a small copse that would give them shelter both from the gusting winds and casual observation from the road. He just hoped that the wagon tracks would soften before the sun baked everything.

The uneven terrain woke Ries, slumped in the driver's seat where he'd crawled once they were out of the city. There hadn't been much he could do in the dark once he saw the songbirds settled. Rudy bundled himself and Indi into the blankets they found in the wagon and though Ries felt the songbird's gaze, he said nothing and did nothing. Still, Ries felt uncomfortable and decided to join Cy in the rain.

They bumped and wound their way between rocks and fallen trees and pulled into the shade of the dripping trees. Cy pushed off his hood and unhitched the horses. With Ries' help, he got the horse blankets from under the seat and wiped the animals down, walking them and feeling their legs before letting them drink from the rain barrel attached to the side of the wagon. Satisfied that they were none the worse for the wear, he apologized to them and wrapped them warmly in the blankets.

Only then did he move to strip off his sodden cloak, hanging the fabric on some tree limbs to dry. He also pulled off his boots and trousers, wiping as much of the mud off as possible before hanging them up as well. Shivering, he used handfuls of water to clean himself off.

"I'm glad you came," he said quietly, giving Ries a tired smile. The boy shrugged, attempting to return the smile and Cy sighed a little. He wasn't used to city life after so long on the roads and in the wilderness. The cool, moist air felt delicious.

"How much time do you think we have? 'Til they notice we're gone," he amended.

Ries thought about that. He'd waffled over his decision right up until the last minute, even while stealing supplies, and hadn't really considered the after -- if they managed to actually get out. He hadn't believed they would, but he'd hoped. If the night hadn't been so miserable, he might wonder if it was real.

Back at the aviary, the songbirds would all be snuggled in their beds. In a few hours they would rouse the falconers with their song, a routine that was second nature after all these years. If not for Rudy, Ries would be a journeyman with different duties, or maybe even a master, because he'd been so close to pinning on his journeyman's rank. No, probably never a master, because he could not speak.

As an apprentice, he would hurry to rise with the birds and fetch their breakfasts. He'd open the doors to let in the morning breeze while the journeymen coaxed the birds down from their perches so the masters could look them over.

Ries was dependable, but there was always someone who would go out of his way to check on him, to punish him for the tiniest infraction. They'd know right away he wasn't there, but with all the chaos of the morning routine, it might be noon before they sent someone to look for him.

As Indi's mate, Cy was expected to care for his bird, so no one would mark his absence until the physicians got to him on their rounds. No one would bother Rudy until Ries was found, so ...

He shrugged.

Cy sighed again, shaking his head as he fetched the lantern from the back. There was more oil in the base, but it took a few tries to get a spark. The flickering light made the wagon feel more homey, but also tinier.

Inside, the songbirds were two dark lumps in the gloom. They had curled around each other for warmth and Cy would have stepped on them except for the cheeping of the hungry chicks. A little judicious prodding uncovered the wriggling pouch and Cy strapped it back on with a tender pat to the outside. It was funny how quickly he'd become accustomed to wearing the thing.

He fed them while changing the soiled fluff inside the pouch. How domesticated he'd become! Cy didn't normally have any interest in children, but the two blue babies had somehow nestled their way into his heart.

Feeling eyes on him, Cy looked up. The front of the wagon had a small door that opened onto the driver's seat. Ries crouched there, starting at Cy with a wide, awed expression.

"Well, come in," he said, amused that the knowledgeable, confident Ries was so awestruck by the tiny babies. The small space was cramped with all four of them, but there was room enough. "Here." He slid one of the chicks into Ries' hand. The dark one, momentarily separated from his teat, chirped indignantly, chubby face screwing up in a furious scowl that made Cy chuckle.

"I call that one Squeaker. He's the noisy one. Here, like this." The chick and teat could be held in one hand. "They're always hungry. Worries me," he confided. "Milk can't be kept, and we're going to need plenty." He sighed and stretched out with his back to the side of the wagon, with a blanket to cushion his shoulders. Sliding his legs under the blankets, he smiled as Indivriar automatically draped himself over the nearest one.

He yawned as he nestled the chicks back in the pouch. They meeped sleepily, bellies distended from their breakfast -- or lunch, or whatever it was. "Get some sleep," he started to say, but Ries was already slumped into Cy's shoulder, leaving him awake with only his thoughts and the soft snoring of the others for company.

Cy had a plan, a good plan, he thought, but even if it was a horrible plan, it was the only one they had. He would get Indivriar to the jungle, find out what was making him sick, and then he would get better. Simple.

::Hear me?:: he sang, separating the smaller bird from Ryubyn in the light of the lantern and cuddling the limp, hot body to his own. ::You're going to live, do you understand? You will live!::

They were snug in their wagon, their body heat keeping them warm in such close confines. Cy squeezed water into Indivriar's mouth from a wet rag, coaxing him to swallow by caressing his throat. He sang as he had done back at the Aviary, telling Indivriar that he was strong and was going to live to see his chicks with mates of their own.

::You're beautiful and strong and will survive this. You will fight. You will live!:: The bard's gaze snapped over to where Ryubyn stirred, his voice a song of discord.

::You will sing with me,:: he warned the songbird. ::Or you will be silent!

Songbird and human stared at each other for a moment. It was Ryubyn who looked away first. He went silent, confused and awed by the power in the human's Song. he was beginning to understand how Indivriar, as sick as he was, could have survived so long. Ryubyn was healthy, and yet there was such power in Crysus' song that Ryubyn was completely overwhelmed. He could not argue with that Song.

Ryubyn's respect for the human grew a little as he listened. Cyrus' song described a different songbird than the one Ryubyn saw currently dying in his arms. The Song was so clear and poignant that Ryubn could see it. Even if the Song lacked depth, Cy held to his vision without wavering. Ryubyn had never heard anything like it.

He stayed quiet, however, stretching his legs as best he could and adjusting his feathers. Eventually, the press on his bladder became too much to ignore and he ventured a small query.

Cyrus stared at the songbird for a moment before reminding himself that the birds lived a pampered existence, with everything provided for them. He was tired, however, and the first thing that came to mind was crude, but the tone of Ryubyn's voice was quite serious, puzzled, and even embarrassed. So, Cy forced a smile instead, a tiny flicker of movement in the gloom, and attempted to explain.

He wondered, and not for the first time, about how he was going to do this. Indivriar's skin was parchment dry under his fingers; he seemed so week. Ryubyn was naive as a child, and Ries couldn't speak. The jungle was well over a months' journey at the pace of a wagon, and the Shah's guards would be scouring the roads. He wasn't sure how they would clear the checkpoints along the road, or how he was going to manage to feed them all. Cy would have little to no help from the others. The burden of this mission rested heavily upon his shoulders. He could only hope and pray.

They arrived at the crossroads at dusk under a light rain. Back when the main trade roads were paved, the shah's roadbuilder suggested broadening the road at regular intervals and digging wells; thus, caravans would find an easier passage and be more inclined to return. Over the following centuries, those small shelters grew into fair-sized towns, and the crossroads of Bridz was no different.

Four main roads converged here and Cy gratefully allowed a groom to take the tired horses to the barn after parking the wagon in a corner of the shelter. There were a number of shelters on the outskirts of town. A roof and two canvas walls broke the chilling wind from the sea and gave warmth and protection from the rain at this time of year. The rain and the night meant that most of the shelters were full. After the silence of the road, the noise was deafening.

Cy left Ries and the songbirds hidden in the wagon and made his way to the wayfarer's lodge. Much like an inn, the lodges catered to large groups of intransigents. An impromptu musical ensemble sat in the corner, the music more energetic than melodic. Beautiful women in low-cut blouses and hiked-up skirts served the patrons, and one could be seen hanging on another man's arm as they went up the stairs. The top floor had the private rooms, costing a silver or more apiece, depending on the company. Most travelers would sleep in their wagons. Those afoot or on horse would lay blankets or bedrolls upon the tables once the kitchen closed for the night. During his travels, Cy had done both.

Shucking his raincloak, Cy elbowed his way to a seat on one of the long, wooden benches. A serving wench was by his side immediately with dishes and a mug of warm, spiced cider. He ate quickly, with the habits learned from years in the company of soldiers. He knew that more refined manners would stand out here. The conversation around him was spirited and loud, but the pure simplicity of the complaints put him at ease. These people had no idea a traitor sat amongst them or that the Shah's prized songbirds were currently missing. None mentioned unusual activity from the Imperial guards or the periodic way-stations. All seemed normal. They were, perhaps, ahead of the news. Cy fervently hoped so.

A handful of coppers secured fresh fruit and an extra batter-wrapped meat pie for Ries and the songbirds. The serving girl even re-filled the double-lined hide flask Cy had with milk for the chicks. The milk was warm, but that couldn't be helped. He would place the flask in one of the water barrels to stay cool.

He set out back to the wagon, yawning and stumbling in his fatigue. A fluttering hand at his elbow startled him, almost as much as the individual he turned to face. She was pretty, with curves not hidden at all by her clothing, hood thrown back to reveal springy black hair and a pair of large, green eyes. She smiled and two identical dimples appeared in her cheeks.

This was the kind of woman that Cy had always been attracted to, but this night, he could muster little interest at all. He told himself he wasn't that tired ... but his smile was no more than friendly, and a touch sad. Would Indivriar ever smile at him again?

"Is something wrong, good sir?" she inquired prettily, coyly batting her eyelashes.

"Er, no, of course not, lass. You just reminded me of someone." Cy smiled and brushed a curl from her cheek. He was sure his confusion showed straight through, for she asked sweetly and without rancor, "A good someone?"

Cy shrugged. The hair felt odd between his fingers, thick and coarse unlike Indivriar's silky feathers. Indivriar.

"I'm sorry," she said, catching his hand and kissing the fingertips. She interpreted his look as one mourning for a lost lover. Remaining in the guise of a wastrel, she said, still sweetly and softly, "Let me bring you to my brother, Zak. He said there is business between you."

"Oh." He understood the hint and accepted, kissing her cheek and offering his arm. "Please." Together they walked back to the shelter, a sight unremarkable in the night.

The wagon they climbed inside was larger than the one where the fugitives hid. The flickering lamps muted the colors and created deep shadows. The man from the Temple of the Sun's stables sat within at a desk folded out of the wall. He looked up when they entered, smiling around a pipe clenched between his teeth.

"So, Brother Lopez," he said. "Your timing is fortuitous indeed. Come, have a seat."

Cy sat down on the bunk indicated, another contraption that folded up to increase the floor space. A tiny, iron stove puffed pleasantly in the corner, thick rugs and wall hangings keep my insides quite warm. Cy lowered his hood and returned the greetings, adding a "Thank you," for the black-haired, green-eyed woman who handed him a mug of tea. She was even more beautiful in the light of the oil lantern swaying gently overhead.

"My 'sister,' Claire," Zak explained. Claire bobbed a curtsy and disappeared behind a curtain at the front of the wagon.

They talked only briefly; the spy was interested in their experience getting out of the capitol. They made the exchange to the new wagon with the rain pouring down around them and the other travelers scurrying about their business with little interest in anything not directly related to hot food and a warm, dry bed for the night.

Morning found Cy in the driver's seat, heading south from the crossroads with dozens of others. The new wagon was a traveling wagon, with a small stove, rugs for the floor and walls, tables that folded up into beds, shuttered windows and cleverly disguised storage compartments. A curtain separated the small living space from the workspace, stuffed to overflowing with a tinker's trade tools.

The back of the wagon opened with two swinging doors which could unfold into a display or serve as a workshop with a canvas tarp tossed over the top and sides. They made a lot of noise, with everything banging and bouncing as they went down the road. The merchant wagons quickly left their one, plodding pony behind. The gray mare was a placid beast that didn't give Cy a lick of trouble. The best part of the wagon, however, was how the outsides camouflaged how large the insides were.

The floor could be folded back to open a large storage space, converted int their wagon to a bed stuffed high with blankets and pillows. This was no ordinary wagon. This wagon must have belonged to a smuggler and while Cy was grateful for the ingenuity, he couldn't help feeling uneasy. He was a hunted man and while his life was in jeopardy before, now he really was breaking the law. Trouble was, he couldn't find it in himself to feel guilty.

By mid-day, they were alone on the road and no towns or villages to worry about for another two days at their current pace. When the sun came out in the early afternoon, making the ground steam, Cy pulled the wagon to a stop. Ryubyn hopped out at once, pacing around the wagon and shaking to clear the dust from his feathers. His song was full of wonder and Cy asked Ries to keep an eye on him whilest he tended Indivriar.

Like the supply wagon, the tinker's wagon had many crates and barrels attached to the outside. Two of those were overflowing with rainwater. Cy sat on the driver's seat with Indivriar, bathing his face and chest and coaxing him to drink. As he worked, Cy sang of his mate's strength and beauty, calling for him to fight, to live.

As he cleaned the grit away from Indivriar's eyes, the songbird blinked. Cy caught his breath, as mesmerized this time as the first, and he smiled nervously. ::Indivriar?:: he asked, but the eyelids drooped closed once more.

The songbird made a sound somewhere between the hoot of an owl and the coo of a dove, and Cy leaned over to press his lips softly against the hot forehead.

Just then, Ries came pelting around the side of the wagon and dived into the small space between seat and foot rest. The boy was breathing hard, but Cy's scowl faltered when he caught a glimpse of the tent in the young man's pants.

He bit back amusement to scold the other songbird now coming into view. ::Ryubyn! I told you; you must court him like a human. I will show you, but this is not the time.::

The scarlet, bronze, and golden songbird looked glorious in the sunshine, with dew sparkling in his feathers from the rain dripping off the trees. He was also completely unrepentant.

::He is my mate,:: Ryubyn replied, scowling up at the human. He copied a human gesture to place his hands on his hips, song demanding.

Cy let his amusement bleed into his voice as he sang back, ::I have no interest in your mate. But, I will protect him from you if you continue to frighten him!::

::That will change --::

::Not by force!:: Cy snapped, annoyed. ::You will not touch him again. No!:: The song between them cracked as Cy overrode Ryubyn's protests. ::You will listen. To take what is not offered is wrong. To woo your mate you must treat him with respect, earn his friendship and trust.::

The songbird's hands curled into fists. ::How?:: he demanded.

How indeed, thought Cy. He seized on the very first thing that came to mind: ::Gifts. Humans show their interest in one another by giving each other small items of affection, something that means something to the receiver.::

::That's impossible!:: cried Ryuby, throwing up his hands in despair. His mate could not speak and there was nothing familiar for Ryubyn to attach the images in the bard's song to their current situation. They had no nest, no pool, no food, nothing he could offer except his Song, and that his mate didn't understand.

::I will teach you,:: Cy assured him calmly. "Ries." After the flowing, melodic language of the songbirds, words felt harsh to Cy's throat and ears.

He nudged the boy with his foot, juggling Indivriar in his arms. "Come out of there, Ries."

The apprentice perched reluctantly, unhappily, on the foot rest. Cy could see the gleam in Ryubyn's eyes, and he bet the boy could as well, for he shifted uneasily, hands in his lap, causing Cy to wonder just what had occurred between the two.

"Do you know your letters? Can you read? Or write?"

Ries shook his head, now glancing worriedly at the bard.

"It's okay. I'll teach you." It had been a long shot anyway. Reading and writing was a priveledge of the rich.

Head coming up, eyes widening in surprise, Ries stared at the bard. The amazement was easy to read.

"Yes, I'll teach you," Cy affirmed. "But, first, I'm going to teach you how to speak." Excitement turned to wariness, making Cy smile.

He made a gesture. "This means 'stop.' You already know 'yes' and 'no,'" he added, nodding and shaking his head, respectively. "It is a language without words."

::What?:: Ryubyn broke in impatiently. ::What are you telling my mate? He's my mate!::

He came forward a few steps and Ries' hand shot out, palm facing outwards, copying what Cy had just demonstrated. Then he glanced over at the bard uncertainly.

"Yes," said Cy, smiling and nodding with approval. He informed Ryubyn, ::He just told you 'stop.'::

The songbird scowled. ::Tell him to come to me!:: he demanded, pointing to the ground at his feet.

Ries didn't need that translated, for he shook his head emphatically, making Cy laugh.

::He just told you 'no,':: he translated.

::I don't --:: the songbird began, shaking his head, feathers ruffling.

Cy interrupted, ::If he is your mate, then you will listen!::

The giant, black eyes with their red rims looked up at Cy in surprise at the commanding Song. ::He cannot Sing,:: the songbird protested weakly, because the bard's Song left no doubt as to what he meant. Ryubyn knew he could not disobey that Song, but he was young and Ryubyn wanted his mate. For so long he'd watched from afar, and now his Silent Sky was so close! ::Please!:: he begged.

Cy turned away so as to not be caught in that gaze. ::I will help you,:: he said, and then said again, to Ries, "I will help you." He sighed a little inwardly, certain that he had never been so young. He knew Ries would listen; Cy was the only thing standing between the boy and the songbird. What Cy couldn't figure out was why Ryubyn did as he asked when he was so infamous for misbehaving back at the Aviary. Ryubyn was shorter than Cy, but far stronger, and could easily overpower him. The Aviary had guards to manhandle the songbird when necessary. Cy had only his voice.

He sighed again and shifted Indivriar into a more comfortable position, mindful as always of the tiny babies strapped to his abdomen. "It's the language of the scouts," he explained, translating for Ryubyn. "When hiding from the enemy, they cannot shout across distances, and often dare to hardly even whisper. They use their hands instead, and they taught me some. This is 'you,' and 'me,' 'come,' 'go,' and 'stay,' which is very much like 'stop.' Once you've learned all the ones I know, we'll have to create our own, but this way we can talk."

He smiled at Ries, the boy staring back at him so intently, so hopeful and yet very, very determined. "It's time to find your voice."