Page 71 of The Dark Wolf's Deliverance

Kenna’s misery largely went unnoticed as Dunslair’s occupants went about their lives as usual, save for the fact she was told not to go abroad without an escort since her brother’s visit. Meyrick was considered a strong enough protector. He was attentive and kind, and she had come to value his company as days turned into weeks, and Conall did not return. But she felt they had gone too far from Dunslair this morning.

She folded her plaid around her and put on some gloves. It was supposed to be almost full summer, but the wind was brisk outside, and she didn’t want to get cold up on the hills above Dunslair. Meyrick had invited her to go out and train the birds with him, and she had agreed if only to distract her from worrying for a few hours. Besides, he had been so excited at the prospect of showing off his skill with them that she could not bear to disappoint him by saying no.

She looked up at him. Thin features, in a long face, with high cheekbones and grey, slanted eyes. He sported a goatee, which gave him an almost aristocratic air. All in all, it was a fine face, handsome, in a dependable kind of way. Yet there was a stillness about Meyrick as if every word or action was carefully controlled and thought through. When she was around him, she sensed nothing else existed for him and that she had his complete attention. It was nice to be made to feel special, but sometimes it felt a little suffocating. Other times his face was colder as if he were far away. Kenna sensed there was much more to him than he revealed. ‘Be careful around him,’ she thought, ‘for he feels too much.’

He came closer to her, tall and sturdy like an oak, and his face was full of pride as he removed the hood from the sparrowhawk. Its eyes were brilliant, like yellow glass, and just as cold, and it fluttered and fidgeted on his arm, eager to be off.

‘Shall we see what she can do?’ He scanned the sky above and spotted a pigeon breaking from the trees behind them. ‘There,’ he pointed and then flung his arm out. The hawk soared upwards, high above its prey, and circled.

‘See how she watches and waits for the perfect moment to strike. Once she decides to pounce, she is always deadly accurate. The pigeon doesn’t stand a chance.’ His words were hurried, and there was cold excitement in his eyes. ‘There, Kenna, look.’

The hawk plummeted downwards, with fearsome speed, striking the pigeon in a violent flurry of feathers, and it flapped helplessly as it was carried off further down the field.

‘Come on,’ he said, grabbing her hand, ‘we have to get it off her before she tears it to pieces.’

Indeed, when they got to it, the hawk was ripping the innards out of the pigeon as it thrashed feebly on the ground, that curved beak slashing like a knife through butter, claws sinking in, oozing blood. When Meyrick approached, sensing the loss of its prize, the hawk spread its wings and gave him a black stare.

He knelt down without hesitation and grabbed the leather jesses around its feet and dragged it back onto his arm, while the bird pecked resentfully at his leather glove. Once he had slipped the hood back on, all the fight went out of it.

‘Blind her, and she is docile,’ said Meyrick. ‘She no longer feels the loss of it, and her wildness is controlled. But that pigeon is ruined.’

‘It seems a shame, Meyrick.’

‘Aye, when she’s better trained, she won’t gut it and make a mess.’

‘No, I mean, it seems cruel somehow, the way she just rips its guts out. It didn’t see her coming and has no defence.’

‘It is weak, and the weak get devoured by the strong. You of all people should know that, Kenna.’

She frowned. What on earth did he mean?

‘Kenna, don’t tell me you pity that pigeon. The meat is for the pot so that we can eat well.’ Meyrick sounded as though he had taken offence.

‘It’s not that. It’s just a cruel way to go. That is what I meant.’

‘Stupid bird deserves no less. It should have been more vigilant. Would you have the pigeon chase the hawk instead?’

‘No…I…’

‘It’s in the hawk’s nature to hunt and kill, just as it is in man’s.’

‘But men know the value of mercy.’

‘Not all of them,’ he said coldly.

He turned aside from her for a moment, fiddling with the bird’s hood. ‘We should get back to the castle, Kenna. I think she has had enough flying for today and it’s obvious you don’t care for this sport.’

‘It is not that, Meyrick. Forgive any offence I have given,’ she said.

‘Come.’ He set off at quite a pace, striding ahead in silence and she struggled to keep up, but by the time they reached the bridge before the castle, his mood had softened.

‘You have been downcast these last weeks, and I have regretted the change in you. Are you still not reconciled to Conall leaving?’

Kenna said nothing.

‘Why did he leave? Did you two quarrel?’

‘I don’t want to talk about him, Meyrick.’

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