Ecen by Adam Soper

Ecen, the smith, heard a voice. Was it Andraste? No, the voice seemed too high, too like a raven.

And he was neither a raven, nor the messenger of Boudica.
He heard another voice. A man's voice. The one who had kept him prisoner in Andraste's keep. His name? Haw. He knew him by his voice alone.

Boudica had returned. The man was dead. Ecen heard the raven calling. And he heard Andraste calling as well. He went to Andraste's room. She sat with her eyes closed, her hair tangled and dyed and plaited in various knots. She wore her bronze torc.

The ravens, hungry, basted on his blood. He tried to wake her. He shook her, and begged her to tell him what to do. He asked her for a sign that she was not a witch.

The raven heard the bird, and reached out to touch the raven's talon. Ecen felt a sudden, sharp pain in his chest. The raven's hand moved on his cheek. The raven's head, still featherless and hairless, filled Ecen's eyes. Ecen opened his mouth to scream.

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