Dark forms circled the camp, dotting the smoke filled sky with a scattering of black. Havoc watched the ravens as they approached and shook his head before glancing at Victory. The scout’s camp should have been far enough from the borders that they would have been safe until the arrival of the main force. From the looks of things, they had been wrong, though.
“Thirty ravens at least. That’s far too many for just a few dead,” Victory said quietly. The Fae looked as haggard and miserable as Havoc had ever seen him and he felt a twinge at the sight. Victory had taken several wounds in the last conflict and they had no healers left. The healers were always the first to die in any conflict and the war in Delvay had proved to be no exception.
“Kes was in this camp. It was her patrol,” Havoc said quietly, his gaze flicking over to the small boy riding behind them. No matter how many times Havoc had argued that the boy was too young for war, the Delvay had ignored him. This was his first actual ride from the city and it was likely that the boy’s first taste of war would be the sight of his mother’s corpse.
“It’s possible that some of them lived,” Victory countered without much hope in his voice.
“I’m going to ride ahead and see. Keep them back if you can,” Havoc said and spurred his horse forward before Victory had time to object. He knew what the objections would be without hearing them. There might still be enemies. It might not be safe. Either was fine with him at this point. Let there still be some Rivasans in the camp. He would gladly help them on their way to the Darklands.
The cawing of the ravens increased as he drew closer and Razor snorted in displeasure. The flame steed hated the carrion birds almost as much as his rider did. A raven was never a good sign as far as Havoc was concerned. It meant one of three things: a battle was over before he had arrived, Seth was somewhere nearby, or the bloody spooks of Seravae had landed. Though in the latter case, the raven was no more than a sigil on their banners.
He slowed his horse to a walk as they entered the small clearing where the scouts had chosen to wait for them. Dismounting slowly, he took in the burnt tents and corpses with a single glance, his eyes searching for Kes. At the very least he could spare the boy the sight of his mother if he could simply find her and cover the body before they arrived.
His search slowed as he noticed a depression in the ground near the edge of camp. The track was far too large to be made by any animal. Moving closer Havoc kicked the torn remainder of a tent back for a better look and let out a deep sigh. “Dragon,” he muttered with disgust. That was it then. The war was as good as over with Nerathane involved. The only hope the Delvay had for survival now was retreat. Rivana already had them on numbers, and now with the added strength of Nerathane there was nothing for it.
“Jani.” The voice was weak and he barely caught the single word through the noise of the approaching riders.
Turning quickly, Havoc scanned the area frantically looking for the only person in Delvay that called him by that name. “Kes, where are you?” Havoc called loudly, sending the Ravens back into the sky, squawking in protest.
“The tree, Jani,” Kes called, her voice choked and filled with pain.
Havoc spun in a full circle his eyes scanning every tree surrounding the camp until he noticed a knotted rope tied around the middle of a large oak near the edge of the camp. He moved swiftly around the tree and nearly choked when he found what remained of her. There were few wounds more terrible to look upon than a burn, from what he had seen over the years, and her body was one large burn. Not a trace of flesh remained on her that wasn’t black or blistered. Her hair was burned away, leaving her scalp raw and bloody. Her eyes were the only part of her that seemed unscathed and they were locked on him with a look of such agony that he felt his breath catch in his throat.
“Kes,” he managed at last, the single word holding more emotion in it than he thought possible. Grief, anger, sadness, and doubt all rivaled for dominance in his mind. He didn’t know how to help her, let alone how to save her life. The ropes they had tied her with had cut into her cooked flesh until the hemp was almost part of her arm. There was no way he could remove the bonds without causing her excruciating pain. Not that she wasn’t already in pain, but the shock of adding more might very well kill her. “Kes, I don’t know how to help you,” Havoc whispered, his voice thick with grief.
“Listen to me. That is all you can do Havoc. I don’t have enough strength to last much longer.” Kes coughed and her eyes welled with tears. “Nerathane has joined the fight, Jani, and they have Magebreakers with them. You have to tell Kadan. We didn’t have a chance here.” Kes managed the words through her broken lips but the effort it was taking was obvious. She was spending the last of her strength to try to save them all.
“Havoc?” Victory called from the campsite and Havoc could hear the sound of the other horses.
“Momma?” The higher pitched voice of her son sent the tears Kes had been holding back spilling down her cheeks.
“Keep him back, Jani. Don’t let him see me like this. Make him stay away and tell Kadan,” Kes pleaded, the tears pouring down her face.
“I’m sorry Kes,” Havoc whispered as he drew his dagger from his belt. “If we still had healers, Hun, I would do everything I could to get them to you. I can’t leave you like this though,” he whispered softly, his head bowed beside hers.
“Do it Jani. I’d rather die to a friend’s mercy than continue in this pain,” Kes whispered back, her voice hoarse.