It was true that Faradae had not been part of the incident in the Delivery Bureau, in fact, she had not taken notice of it at all until Imass had emerged into the street, with his letters, with his problems. In consequence, it would only be natural to assume that she was not concerned for her own well-being as this risky situation arose. This assumption is wrong. She was afraid indeed, and very much so. She had seen the sudden aggravation these friars were capable of, and she had witnessed that it was not always directed at those who were to blame. Anger was an erratic thing. Quite impossible to predict.
It was unusual for an eagle to follow the instinct to run, a behaviour to be expected from prey rather than from the predator. But there was more shame in bowing one’s head to a disrespected creature than to avoiding confrontation to begin with. At least that was what Faradae told herself later when she remembered this situation, trying to make sense of her own reactions. Or maybe she was just trying to mask a moment of cowardice.
In any case, she felt a little stupid, standing there, still afraid, still freezing. Watching the monks approach, watching Imass not budge, watching him fight his fear while fighting her own. It was generally a very passive act, all this watching. She watched the guards harass the blue man. She watched them kick him. She also saw his non-reaction, which filled her with surprise. There was a certain tension that rendered her motionless throughout the entire scene, something that she wanted to slap herself for a little time later, something that she was grateful for much later, when she came to understand that not reacting was the one and only lifesaving action there and then.
She also heard a couple of things. Some minor things, like the guards talking to her new acquaintance rather than talking with him. Or the Delivery agent snickering in the background (he had one of those disgustingly complacent smirks on his face). More importantly, a warning directed at her, a warning that told her she really wanted to leave Nyka, and now. Had she thought she was not afraid of the monks just a few chimes ago, she knew better now, because she shamefully was. Of course she was.
When the monks took their leave, the tension dissolved like morning haze into sunlight. But she had dejection for light, and a certain feeling of helplessness that she did not remember to have felt before, although it was all too descriptive of her situation in Nyka.
She did not say a word until the monks had vanished from sight. Not a word of thanks, nothing to describe the humiliation.
She did not want to say the wrong thing.
They were still standing in the middle of the boulevard down to the docks, the wind had not eased, but this time, Faradae failed to feel the cold outside. She was much too occupied by the thoughts swirling within.
Then, quietly: “I will deliver those letters, if you will have me.” |
