They watched the church burn with beautiful but dispassionate eyes. There were not many of them, their queen would send more soon, this was just to get things started.
The horses stamped excitedly, eager to move on. The steeds of the Fae were not the fragile high strung things these peasants called horses, they were creatures of the veil through hand through. Keiran stroked one hand along the neck of his horse. Zeke stood 21 hands high and his coat was purest black, but it was his eyes that really made him stand out from mundane animals, his eyes blazed red as the fire licking the walls and roof of the church in front of him.
Saeve came and placed her cool hand on his arm, leaning into to him, resting her dark head on his shoulder. “There is something about fire,” she purred.
“Yes, love.” Keiran wrapped one arm around her. If you did not know better, they would look lie any young couple watching a bonfire at harvest, but the milling wolves and stamping black beasts were sure to give it away. The cries of the doomed were starting to fade and Keiran was losing interest. They had done what they came to do.
“Bring him here,” he gestured to the young man who had dashed from the ill fated church at the end. The poor fool was practically limp with fear as the soldier brought him to his prince.
“He looks like he may be an imbecile.” Saeve’s voice was like velvet over stone. “I hope he can do what he needs to.”
“He will,” Keiran assured her, while looking into the terrified blue eyes of his captive. “He will, or we will find him and make him wish he had died with his friends back here. You understand me?”
The young man nodded, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. A fine sheen of sweat glittered on his brow and his pale brown hair was now stuck to his forehead and neck.
“I need to hear you say it,” The night was wearing thin and they still have miles to cover. “I need to know you are not really an imbecile or mute.”
“Y-y-y-yes, sir.” His voice was weak, but it was clear he was not defective.
“Good. I have a message for you to take to your High Priestess.” The boy nodded.
Keiran pulled a rolled scroll from a bag draped over the back of his anxious mount. “Do not open this. Do not drop this. Do not stop until you have delivered it. If you do, we will know.” The boy nodded again, taking the scroll with shaking hands.
“Get out of here,” Saeve snarled, shaking the mortal from the trance he seemed to have fallen into, starting at Keiran. The boy started and then bolted, running on gangly limbs as fast as he could toward the main highway.