Lys: A Harsh Mercy

Mercy? The Hawk would give mercy to this boy? Cathair unconciously started forward, coming to himself when Aithne stumbled because of it.

Whatever it was it seemed to scare the wits out of Calidus. Cathair wondered if this 'mercy' wasn't less merciful than death. He smiled. He didn't mean to seem to enjoy the man's downfall, but to see the pride be put in its place was in some way satisfying.

Then all hell broke loose.

Cathair pushed Aithne aside and behind him as the blade flashed in the firelight. His own hand was ready on his dagger, about to spring in if necessary. But the Hawk easily deflected and disarmed the boy. He had things in hand. He had things well in hand.

Cathair stood and looked on calmly. He knew where it would end. The kitten had brought it on himself. And Cathair was not sad to see him go.


Aithne gasped when the knife flashed. Merciful Christos! Then the whip sang through the air and she breathed again. There was no danger now. The whip sang again and blood was spilled. Aithne turned away, knowing what was coming, knowing she'd be ill if she watched, and knowing she was a coward all the same.

She laid her head against Cathair's back and closed her eyes until it was done.

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