Ravens Book 3: The Sky Warriors and the Fallen Child

Chapter 9

Chapter 9

During the two days that Prima's parents were visiting, they had caused a stir within the rookery. As the council didn't come and speak to Nayr, which irked her beyond anything before, Matron had spoken to Nayr on the second morning, saying that the local Ravens don't like how the way Prima's parents talk about the upcoming war. Nayr frowned, 'I told them it wasn't a war. It's a show of force. Although, I suppose a lot of the rookery don't believe there is happening outside the rookery. Those council idiots need some harsh dose of reality.'

Matron, who had procured Nayr's personal herbal remedy, passed a glass full of the moss-coloured concoction. Nayr downed the drink with only small disgust and passed the empty glass back to her.

'I have to hand it to you; you really want to get better,' Matron told her.

'I've told you, I have to get better. I have too many humans and Ravens who need me, ' Nayr said, relaxing back in the bed. She could have been more comfortable with her own feathers plumping up the pillows, but she wasn't in the mood to start plucking some out for her own benefit. She put up and shut up.

Matron came to her right side and, tapping on her arm, gestured for her to sit up. With difficulty, she managed. 'Prima's parents do not sit well with everyone here,' Matro tapped Nayr's right wing in a few places. One place hurt, but less considerably than when she first broke it. 'Huh, it is starting to heal.'

Nayr refrained from smiling. 'Prima's parents are in mourning for their daughter. You cannot expect them to-'

'They are speaking in tongues,' Matron explained. 'They speak of things that, quite frankly, are upsetting the citizens here.'

'Elaborate,' Nayr asked as Matron gently started to lift her wing. She gasped in pain, and Matron tutted. 'Not quite healed.'

'Indeed. But better than expected.' Ensuring she was comfortable in bed, Matron replied authoritatively. 'Far be it from me to tell others what to do outside of the infirmary,' she added, 'but I have been told they went to the library and sought out some of the scrolls there.'

'Quen allowed this?' Nayr asked.

Matron was surprised that Nayr knew of the library's master of the scrolls, and she nodded. 'I believe he has.'

'Well, Prima's parents will decide what they'd like for their daughter. I want to attempt to get up and go to the council chamber for their decision.'

Matron frowned. 'I do not like the idea of you getting out of bed. You'll pull your stitches.'

Nayr explained she'd be careful but needed to show her face. She didn't want to be seen as weak if she wanted to show everyone her legitimacy as the new Sovereign.

Calling for the advisory council to the council chambers, Nayr was sat in a high-backed chair in the centre of the room. It wasn't as grand as her aunt's or Brin's, but where it was placed showed her authority.

As the councillors came in, they each gave a small bow and took their seat.

'Thank you for coming to see me,' Nayr said. 'I've asked for this conclave for two reasons. The first, when they arrive, Prima's parents will tell us what they'd like to do with their daughter's body and-'

'Excuse me,' the woman from before with the smoky grey wings raised her hand. Nayr tried not to let her eyes narrow. Matron had told Nayr she went by an old Ancient Raven name of Yannil. 'But I had heard that you would grant funeral rites to this child. She is not of this rookery and, therefore, cannot be granted rites.'

'She was shunned from her rookery because she could not fly,' Nayr told her firmly. 'So, therefore-'

'Exactly,' she snapped. 'So, she has been banished.'