Caracara's Hunt 92 The Crime Of Ancestors

Arawn knew he wasn't doing a good impersonation, but he ignored the questions raised by the men in the woods. What did they know about beasts? He looked like one, so in the end, they would just come up with a reason why he didn't attempt to slaughter them to explain to themselves what had happened.

After that excitement, however, Arawn had nothing else to do. He hid and waited while worrying about Mutallu. There were so many things that could go wrong, not the least of which were the boy's own injuries. If they got worse, he might just drop to the ground without anyone to help him.

It was hard to remain still when faced with the unknown. Arawn managed it for a while, but a few hours after sunset, he could no longer do it. He stood up and began to pace in the darkness.

The mansion seemed asleep. Only a few soldiers on the walls were still awake and watching the surroundings. They yawned often though, cursing their luck for drawing the night s.h.i.+ft. One even fell asleep in his post while leaning against his spear.

If Arawn wanted to sneak in, this would be a great chance, but he could not take it. As a beast, he would set off the whole mansion if anyone saw him.

With a deep sigh, he left to hunt. Nothing could be achieved by pacing around the wall, and his bloodthirst was rising up. It was better to fill his stomach before it grew strong enough to cloud his mind.

When Arawn returned in the morning, he couldn't cover half the distance to the wall he did at night. His hide was pure black as if he had just swam in tar, and it stood out during the day. The fact that he was gigantic didn't help either.

Worry filled him, but he refrained from doing anything crazy for the time being. Mutallu was a master of shadows, so he would be fine. There was no need to doubt his abilities.

Around midday, Arawn was about to storm the mansion when he finally heard something. As if knowing he could hear them, Mutallu and Sylvester went up to the wall and looked down at the surrounding forest.

The doctor seemed fine, with not a sign of any trouble on his bespectacled face. When a soldier pa.s.sed by them on patrol, Sylvester nodded at him before returning his gaze to the woods outside.

Unlike him, Mutallu was unrecognizable. He was covered in so much cloth that not even a speck of his skin could be seen despite the warmth of the day. It also prevented Arawn from finding out if his injuries had been healed.

"So how are you going to contact Arawn?" Sylvester asked in a conversational voice without turning back to look at the boy.

"I'll have to sneak back out and—"

Sylvester shook his head. "You won't. They've surrounded every inch of the place, and they've got earth mages hidden around to ensure there's no sneaking around. You wrote yourself a death sentence by coming here."

"If you're so smart and knowledgeable, why are you still here? Didn't see the trap coming?" Mutallu asked with mockery in his voice.

"A mistake," Sylvester said with a laugh. "I thought I had more time, but alas, it was a miscalculation. I should have fled this s.h.i.+p weeks ago."

His expression grew wistful when a hawk appeared on the horizon. Sylvester followed its flight for a while before letting his gaze return to the ground. "I'll help you, but don't expect miracles. Even a doctor like me isn't worth much in the eyes of soldiers."

They started discussing the soldier patrols, night s.h.i.+fts, and how often the soldiers on duty changed. Despite all his downer speech, Sylvester had actually already collected all the knowledge necessary for an attempted escape. He hadn't been lying about and moaning in defeat since the mansion had been surrounded.

It was good of him, but Arawn had another problem. Two soldiers not too far away from him had started talking, and their words sent a chill through his heart.

"Just shut up, Brigs. We've got our orders," one of them said in exasperation.

"So what? We're just gonna kill them all anyway, so why not do it now? It's damp and freezing cold at night while it's f.u.c.king hot right now. I'll soon sweat out my insides."

The other soldier gave a choked laugh at that. "Hurry up then. Maybe it'll finally shut you up."

"Come on, Len. Don't tell me you don't think the same. We're just wasting time on those Mairyan sc.u.m. Everyone would be better off with them dead."

Len didn't answer, but that didn't stop Brigs from complaining more. He didn't forget to spread the hate to his squad leader, lieutenant, captain, and even the commander who was still in the capital either. Everyone got an equal share along with even inanimate objects like the sun and moon.

But what caught Arawn's attention the most were his first words. Were the soldiers really going to kill everyone in the mansion? Although Brigs called them Mairyan sc.u.m, those people were Bretians in every way besides their blood, and even that was no longer pure.

When Arawn had stayed there, he had heard everyone talking without any accent and seen them dress in the Bretian way, with no gla.s.s baubles or metallic chains. They should have come more than a couple generations ago, with the first Katalan lord who set up his mansion in Ayersbert and never returned, creating their families in their new home.

Was this Bretian hospitality then? Even if people have lived in Ayersbert since birth, as long as they had foreign blood somewhere in their ancestry, they were aliens that needed to be removed?

Not if Arawn had something to say about it. He hated people who took another's life carelessly, but those who did it with pretend reasons were even worse. They made it seem like they were doing the right thing, but in reality, they were just masking their slaughter under beautiful words and charming smiles.

The dungeons had plenty of such people, and all of them had attempted to make use of Arawn's power. To his shame, he even believed them for a time. He had intimidated some people in the name of good, but in the end, it had showed up that he was only making their life h.e.l.l for no other reason than to make his 'friend' feel better.

Red flashed in Arawn's eyes. He lowered his head, and a low rumble came from deep in his throat. It sounded like thunder in the distance.

Mutallu wanted a distraction? That was just perfect. Arawn would give one to him.

His claws flexed, creating holes in the ground, and he stretched his neck right and left in preparation. His tail flicked in the air, betraying his agitation.

It wasn't right and he shouldn't do it, but he couldn't let a whole mansion full of people get slaughtered for the crime of their ancestors being Mairyan. With that thought filling his being, he dashed off into the direction of Brigs and Len.

His claws tore through the men as if they were paper, killing them before they could even scream out in horror. Revulsion fought with ecstasy in Arawn's mind, but he refused to pay attention to either of the emotions. Like a ghost, he went toward the other soldiers and slaughtered them one by one.

Ten had died by the time he was noticed. The woman's shrill voice sent birds flying, but it did not last long. Arawn tore her throat out and went for another target.

Realizing that something was wrong, the soldiers started to call out to one another, and someone found the first corpses, but Arawn did not slow down. Even when they grouped up, they could not put up a fight against him.

Their spears and swords glanced off his skin, and the little ether some of them had was totally useless. He was the king of the forest, and they were no more than a family of rabbits that had managed to catch his ire.

The smell of human blood sent Arawn into a crazed madness where he wasn't sure if it was him or some instinctual being slaughtering every life that appeared before him. Blood dripped down his snout, but it wasn't enough. His ears flicked to catch the position of more soldiers, and he disappeared in that direction.

Neither human flesh nor blood interested him as sustenance, but there was a primal satisfaction in tearing them apart and spilling their life blood onto the ground. It felt as if they were his mortal enemy that could not be allowed to exist under the same sky.

Horns rang out all around him. Their piercing noise made Arawn flinch, and he changed his course to go for one of the noisemakers. It was a middle-aged man whose hands went still upon noticing Arawn. The horn dropped from his fingers, and he ran away with a pale face.

Grinning, Arawn pounced after him; he was always up for a chase. Only problem was that humans gave him no challenge. Why did they even bother to run on those pathetic legs of theirs?

While he finished off the middle-aged man, the whole forest filled with the voices of the horns. The soldiers piled up into lines on the road and looked around with panicked eyes. They knew they would not survive if Arawn came at them.

It made him smile even more, and he took a step toward them, but then something flashed in his mind. The stone building before the soldiers… For some reason, he didn't want them to enter it…

It was a strange thought, but he trusted his instincts. If he wanted to do that, then it meant there was a reason for it. Without much more thought, he circled the soldiers and stopped their advance.

The horror on their faces was a sweet reward, and Arawn changed his mind. Instead of running forward, he slowed down to a walk. Every step he took left b.l.o.o.d.y footprints on the ground, and he could see the effect it had on the humans.

He smiled then, revealing his pearly white canines. More than a few humans gulped at the sight, their shaking spreading from their arms to their whole bodies.

When Arawn was only three lunges away from the first line of humans, he faked a jumping motion, and the perfect order broke in a fraction of the second. Half the soldiers could not take the pressure and abandoned their positions to run in the opposite direction.

With tears in their eyes, they abandoned their companions. There was nothing on their minds but total and absolute mind-numbing fear. All they could see was the beast's sharp claws, nightmare-black skin, and teeth that could tear their throats out without any effort.

The leftover humans looked at their scarce lines and sprinted away as well. They might have had a chance as a trained unit, but not as individuals. Now it was all only on luck, since the beast couldn't chase everyone down.

Arawn howled in victory and took a step forward to go after his prey, but his back leg gave out and he tumbled to the ground. It was good that all the humans had gone or they would have had a good laugh.

Unsatisfied with such a position lacking dignity, Arawn tried to stand up, but his back leg refused to hold. He had to get himself up on three feet and then limp forward while putting only minimal weight on his back leg.

He had forgotten that it was injured and had pounced around as if he was healthy, which put too much pressure on it. This meant that it was Arawn's own fault that the leg gave out on him, but it still annoyed him. His prey was now going to escape!

As if hearing him, two humans left the stone building. The taller, older one advanced cautiously while the young one went forward with no hesitation.

Arawn tilted his head at that. Since when was his prey so eager to enter his jaws?