Page 18 of The Bone King and the Starling
THE LITTLE BIRD
I am displeased. After my wife fell ill, Fuzier came to me and provided me with advice that I did not like.
“Let the boy go and kill Olec. Be done with this now. Show your wife that she is more important to you than your rage.”
It was…advice that I knew in my heart was the correct advice to take…yet it still pained me to take it. Releasing Tori to the healers was the most difficult thing I’ve done in my long years as king. Killing Olec in a ritual sacrifice right there on the training fields is easier and helps appease some of my displeasure, as I know that his blood will appease the gods of war and mischief.
I finish marking myself with his blood, painting it across my pectorals. I mark my cheeks. And then, I mark each of the men who will advance to training tomorrow. I choose eight of them, Vale and Elia among them. Tomorrow I will narrow it down to six. The next day, I will finish sorting the affairs of this town. The following day I will appoint Viccra as chief and exile any who dare dissent, including his father. The final day, I will be off, my lady at my side.
But before any of these things can happen, I need to return to my chambers here in this small village. I need to see to my queen’s wellbeing, ensure that she’s alright and reassure her that she is my priority. As much as it pains me to admit, it would seem that yesterday, Hilde was right. My little bird is not a little violent thing. She is not the shield maiden to sever heads at my side, but the strong planks of a house to ward away the rain. She is my shelter, as I wish to be hers. She is not my blade.
I am displeased as I return to the village, the villagers all gossiping like children around me. My own warriors are no better — I hear the way they speak in hushed whispers of my failings. Of how I frightened my precious Starling. I am a fool for not realizing it earlier. And I am twice the fool for daring to think, for even a single moment, that Starling wanted to stop the violence because she favored Tori. Because she does not want to see him bleed does not mean that she likes him. But does seeing him bleed mean that she likes me less?
I frown, stopping before the hall without entering it. People pour around me, but I turn to Fuzier and shout at him above all of it. “Will my queen be upset to see me in such a state?”
Fuzier smirks. “That you ask should be indication enough, my king.”
Grumpily, I make my way to Rosalind and Olec’s last quarters — where they have been hoarding and guarding their precious commodities — and command a bath brought to me. I soak myself thoroughly, making sure to wash away the blood. I don’t want to mess up my hair, but that can’t be helped at this point. I have to pull out the braids she gave me. As I rise from the steaming waters, I hope only that I have not ruined things so irreparably that she will not braid my hair once more. Every day for the rest of our short lifetimes in this world, and then every day for the rest of eternity in the world that comes after.
Hair long and unkempt, I don a simple tunic and trousers and return to the great hall where the day’s final feast is underway. Feeling strangely nervous, I round the throne and enter the chamber where my wife rested for the rest of the day. I rehearsed several times what I intend to say, but now that I am here, I suddenly can remember none of it.
My wife is not in bed.
The pit that takes up residence in my stomach starts small, but widens as I move from room to room and find traces of her — my tunic neatly folded, a tray of food entirely empty, a flagon of water missing, a single bejeweled dagger of mine gone — but not my wife.
No.
Horror and rage flood my bones.
My little bird has flown.
I immediately shed my clothing and opt for armor. I dress my belt with axe and sword. I hail six warriors to ride with me, sending the entire hall into a stir, and then we mount our horses and take to the road. We hunt.