Gertrude IV
Gertrude woke and first noticed the pain in her face. She had slumped her head down on a rock and now felt like her cheekbones formed a shape around it. She lifted her head and tested her face muscles, wiggling the stiffness out and bringing a hand up to massage her cheek. Blasted, she was sore. With her other arm, she lifted herself off the ground. Instantly she became dizzy. Her eyes slammed shut.
Her back was a mess, and every movement was painful. She sat for a moment and collected herself, then opened her eyes to figure out what the hell had happened.
She was outside. Her heart sank, and she grew nauseous as she noticed the pile of raven bodies on the ground nearby. What could-
Triton.
She pushed herself to her feet, though slowly, to dull the dizziness, nausea, and pain. She grew frustrated trying to remember what had happened. She looked away from the birds and saw the river to her side.
She noticed a raven hopping around and squawking erratically. No, not a raven. Her Raven. Her Raven had merged with Triton. She felt out with her mind but couldn’t feel the bird. How interesting. Maybe Gertrude was more injured than she knew. She had to watch the bird for a moment. Typically, her Raven was stoic and poised- her partner bonded through service to her Queen. The bird she watched now was frantic. It hopped into the air and waved its wings with no coordination. It squawked with anger, though she detected some desperation as well.
She had watched her Raven merge with Triton. That’s right- she was sure of it now. Her Raven was Triton.
“Didn’t know that was in the cards,” Gertrude mumbled. “Coulda saved me some pain and suffering, that move.” The Raven noticed her now and hopped toward her. The squawking and squealing reminded her of the tabby cat whenever dinner came late.
Likely, Triton couldn’t be captured by her Queen within the Raven straight off. Gertrude did a number on the wizard; she remembered now. She used spells she typically saved for the darkest of creatures. Blasted, Triton was strong. Her Queen needed him weakened, distracted, and run out before she could trap him.
Triton the Raven stared at her, puffing out his chest and stretching his wings wide. He squawked an angry noise.
“What’s that now? Haven’t learned to fly yet?” Gertrude looked down at him. Why couldn’t she feel and communicate with him? Once Gertrude had gained her Queen’s trust, all those years ago, she became partnered with her Raven. They could communicate telepathically. It was never conversational- mainly just information. But sometimes scenes and emotions, too. But none of that now. Maybe once Gertrude was sorted and less injured, she could reach him. Queen knows Gertrude overextended: she hadn’t cast like that in ages.
What happened to her Raven?
Triton-Raven squawked again and seemed to point her attention toward a lifeless knight down the bank. The knights.
The sword.
She remembered now. She walked over, finding that she had a limp, and scanned the area. Triton-Raven hopped along with her. The knight had slumped awkwardly, but there was no sword. A set of footprints led away from the body and into the woods. Triton-Raven hopped, then stuck his beak into the print. He bounced along the tracks, looking back at Gertrude and squawking.
“Birds got no use for swords, your highness.” Triton-Raven was an angry bird, and her quip reignited his ire. Gertrude ignored him for a moment and looked back at the pile of ravens. It was rare to get a flock together- ravens preferred to operate in small groups, or even alone. But they grouped for their Queen. The gathering of a flock had alerted Gertrude to the magnitude of the request put before her. This flock had saved her life. More lives, probably. Her Queen had stopped King Triton from getting the evil sword, Craven’s Edge. According to the myths, the sword imposed a lust for bloodshed on all its wielders. It was probably best that the sword didn’t have the chance to corrupt Covidia’s most powerful wizard, King Triton. Gertrude turned her attention back to the exasperated Triton-Raven.
Now what?
It had been so long since she was without instruction. She couldn’t remember dreaming last night. That was odd, too. Gertrude shook her head. She needed to rest her body. Some tea would be nice, too. She scooped up Triton-Raven and guided him to her shoulder. If she had any doubt the bird was unaccustomed to its body, there was none now. It scratched her arm and shoulder, trying to find balance.
“Easy!” She croaked. “Hold still!” She pressed with her consciousness. She couldn’t merge with the bird. Her face shriveled from the effort. Triton-Raven stared back at her unperturbed. She couldn’t merge. Now she was frustrated.
Home. She was so far from home. With nothing: no raven wings of her own, no spiritual companion, no instruction. No dreams. At least she could try to interpret a dream. Even if she was wrong, it gave her direction. But now…
Triton-Raven squawked at her. She needed tea. And sleep.
Previous Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/03/24/resistance-chapter-11/
Next Chapter: https://therealzsmith.com/2023/04/07/resistance-chapter-13/
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