The Eagle And The Nightingales

It wasn't hard to identify people, even from this walkway, and she amused herself by trying to recognize some of her regulars coming toward Freehold. Movement of something larger than a pedestrian coming up the street caught her eye, and she turned to see what was coming. Odd. I haven't seen that many horsemen here in a long time. At least, not all together. But she dismissed them from her mind as soon as she saw them, for she spotted T'fyrr turning the corner at the other end of the block, approaching Freehold from the shelter of the overhang like everyone else.

He looked relaxed; his wings were not held tightly to his body as they were whenever he was nervous. She smiled to see that tiny sign; something must have gone well for him today.

But her smile vanished_for the horsemen suddenly spurred their beasts into a lurching run, scattering the other pedestrians before them, and converged on him. The horses were quick, nimble-footed and used to the city streets, cutting T'fyrr off before he even knew they were there!

Her heart started up into her throat, and her chest constricted with sudden fear. There were seven of them; whoever his attackers were, they weren't taking any chances on him getting away.

They had closed in on him and surrounded him, trapping him under the overhang where he couldn't take to the air. His talons were of limited use in a situation like this one. No one was going to come to his aid, not in this neighborhood_there were a few of her army of children loitering about the street, but children could do nothing against horsemen, even unarmed horsemen. One of the boys rushed toward the door of Freehold and began to pound on it frantically, but there was no way that enough help would arrive in time from inside. In a few moments, they could subdue him, haul him onto a horse, and carry him away!

But she was a Gypsy, and a Gypsy is never unarmed.

She pulled the sash from around her waist and dove into her pocket for the pennies left over from her distribution of largesse to the children this afternoon. Those aren't battle-trained cavalry beasts, those are only common riding horses_Even as the first of the riders moved to pull something from his belt, she had fitted a penny into the pocket of her sash, whirled it three times over her head, and let it fly.

She had kept herself fed, many a time, with the sling. Her aim did not fail her this time, either, with a much larger target than the tiny head of a squirrel. Her penny hit the rump of the horse with a satisfying smack, and more satisfying was the horses natural reaction to the stinging missile. It was, as she had hoped, much worse than the worst biting fly.

As the first horse reared and neighed wildly, completely unseating his rider, she lobbed another two pennies at two more of the hapless mounts. As the first man landed_badly_on the pavement, the next two horses reacted the same way the first one had. Only instead of simply throwing their riders and dancing around like beasts possessed, these two reared, bucking their riders off and bolted, lumbering into the rest of the horses, scattering them for the moment.

That was enough to give T'fyrr the opening he needed. He dashed into the gap left when the first horse ran off and launched himself into the air, wings beating powerfully, further panicking the horses.

The street was full of neighing, dancing horses, or so it seemed. Their riders had their hands full for the moment.

She didn't wait to see what would happen next; if anyone down there suspected that they had been attacked from one of the balconies and happened to look up, she could be in serious trouble. She ducked inside the nearest window exit, getting into hiding quickly, before any of T'fyrr's assailants had a chance to calm his beast, look up, and spot her.

Then she ran for the inside stairs, heading for the roof. That, surely, would be where he would go. Freehold meant the nearest point of safety, and the roof was the best place for him to land.

He'll be in a panic, and once he gets out of the streetlights, his eyes won't have time to adjust and he'll be flying half-blind. He may land hard_

She burst out onto the roof at the same time he landed as hard and clumsily as she had expected, and as he heard her footfall behind him, he whirled to face her, hands fanned, talons extended in an attack stance. His eyes were wild, black pupils fully dilated. His beak parted, and his tongue extended as he hissed at her.

'T'fyrr!' she cried, 'It's me! It's all right, Joyee is getting the Freehold peace-keepers at the door_no one is going to get past them_'

She expected him to relax then, but he didn't so much relax as collapse, going to his knees, his wings drooping around him. One moment, he was ready to slash her to ribbons; the next, he was falling to pieces himself.

Dear Lady! She ran to him in alarm; he moved to reach for her feebly, and when she touched his arm, his emotional turmoil boiled up to engulf her, making her own breath come short and her throat fill with bile.

Quickly she shunted it away; helped him to his feet, and led him as quickly as she could to the staircase. My room. I have to get him somewhere quiet. If he panics more_

She didn't want to speculate. He was armed with five long talons on each hand, and four longer talons on each foot, not to mention that cruel beak. This collapse might only be momentary. If he thought he was in danger again, and lost control of himself_