Day 14: Free Write
Amends
The crow had started eating out of his hand. Silvaineaux had tried the first chunk of meat cautiously, with gloves on, just as he would treat the hawks. He had expected to feel the bite of that long dark beak through them. Or that Malheur would dart his head carefully past his hand to nip a morsel from the bowl instead.
But those dark grey eyes had regarded him, looking he might have sworn, directly into his own eyes for a moment before the crow thoughtfully tipped his dark head and then almost daintily plucked that bit of flesh directly from his glove. He had tried the next one the same way to see if the bird would tire of it but he seemed content to take his meals thus.
It gave him some hope when he led Felicienne and the boys up to the solar, where he had wheeled the cage to let Malheur have the benefit of the sun for the afternoon. Marcelin and Sohan rushed in ahead of him but came to an immediate stop when the crow cawed and flapped his good wing at them.
“It looks well.” Felicienne said at his side.
“I think he’ll recover.” Silvaineaux agreed, thoughtfully, watching the boys watch the bird but minding also the way the crow watched them in turn, tilting his head this way and that.
“The bird looks better!” Sohan said.
“His wing is still bandaged.” Marcelin said, sounding a bit disappointed.
“Broken bones take time to heal.” Silvaineaux said, stepping forward. “But I think it will. Would you like to try giving him something to eat?”
“A muffin?” Sohan asked eagerly.
“We won’t give him muffins.” Silvaineaux said, though he suspected Malheur might eat them. “He’ll eat raw meat like your mama’s hawks. And you’ll have to be very slow and careful and wear my big glove to give him a piece.”
Felicienne looked at him and raised one eloquent eyebrow.
“I will help, of course.” He added hastily.
“I want to feed him.” Sohan agreed.
“If I feed him will he know I’m sorry?” Marcelin asked.
Silvaineaux looked from the boy to the bird. “He might.” He said.
“I will feed him.” Marcelin declared seriously. “I have to go first. I am the oldest and I have to make my amends for wronging him.”
“I think that’s fair.” Felicienne agreed.
Silvaineaux lifted the cover off the dish on the table and handed Marcelin his glove. It engulfed his small brown hand but that was likely for the better. Silvaineaux tugged over a chair and set him atop it at the best height to reach the cage, then he carefully opened the door, just a sliver as he’d done at first. “Take a piece from the bowl.” He said, moving to stand behind Marcelin. “Hold on tight at first it’s slippery. Now I’m going to close my hand around yours and we’ll reach in very slowly. Yes, just so. Come on, Malheur, it’s tea time.”
Behind him Felicienne made an odd stifled sound, but Silvaineaux kept his eyes on the bird, watching as the crow looked from him to Marcelin and then to the meat. Malheur’s eyes settled on Marcelin’s face again for so long that Silvaineaux began to feel a bit uneasy. But just when he’d almost thought better of the whole idea, the crow’s head tilted and looked back at him. Then slowly he hopped over and took the bit of meat. He hopped away almost as soon as he had snatched it but Marcelin was smiling as he jumped down from the chair.
He handed the glove to his little brother. “Here, Sohan. Your turn. You have to wear the glove because his beak is so big.”
As the boys were sorting out the glove Felicienne settled her own eyes on him. “What… in the Fury’s grand heavens did you call that bird?” she asked. There was laughter dancing in the amber of her eyes.
“Malheur.” Silvaineaux said. “Now it can truthfully be said he carries bad fortune with him. Even if it’s only because it’s his name.”
