Flight of the Night Hawks

With a wry smile, Marie said, ‘There’s more than one woman who’d count her husband being away a blessing, boy.’ She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around. ‘Now, catch up with the others. I’ll be along soon.’

Tad ran off after the others, and Marie turned her attention to her small home. Everything was neat and dusted; she might be poor, but she had pride in an orderly house. Keeping it tidy was difficult with two boys underfoot, but they usually obeyed her without question.

Marie then inspected the soup simmering over the hearth and judged it to be ready. Everyone in the town was expected to contribute to the harvest festival, and while her soup was simple fare, it was delicious and welcomed, even by those who contributed far more.

Glancing at the door, she half-expected to see a tall man silhouetted against the light, and for a brief, bitter moment she realized she wasn’t sure who it was she wished for more to be the one to see – her late husband, or Caleb. Pushing aside such irrelevant thoughts, she reminded herself that aching for what you couldn’t have was pointless. She was a farmer’s wife, and knew the nature of life: it rarely gave you choices, and to survive you looked forward, not back.

A short while later, Marie heard someone approach and turned to find Caleb at the door. Wearing half a smile, he said, ‘Expecting someone?’

She crossed her arms and gave him an appraising look. Only a few years younger than Marie, a clean-shaven chin and a long, unlined face gave Caleb a youthful look, despite the grey creeping into his shoulder-length brown hair. His eyes were also brown and fixed on her like a hunter’s. He wore well-made but plain-cut garb, fit for a woodsman, a large floppy hat of black felt, a dark-green wool tunic cut snugly over his broad shoulders, and leather breeches tucked into buckskin boots around his calves. He had a long face, but she thought him handsome, for he carried himself proudly. He always spoke calmly and thoughtfully and he wasn’t afraid of silence. But the main reason she was drawn to him was because when he looked at her, she felt that he saw something of value there. Caleb smiled. ‘I’m late?’

‘As usual,’ she answered with a slight smile. Then her expression bloomed as she laughed. ‘But not too late,’ she crossed the room to stand before him. Kissing and hugging him, she said, ‘The boys left a few minutes ago.’

He returned the hug, then said, ‘How much time do we have?’

Marie looked askance at him and said, ‘Not enough, if I read your mood correctly.’ She tilted her head towards the hearth. ‘Help me with the kettle.’ She moved to the hearth and picked up a long oak pole leaning beside the stonework chimney.

Caleb unslung his bow, hip quiver and backpack, and stored them in the corner. As Marie slipped the pole through the iron handle of the large kettle, he took the opposite end.

They lifted it from the iron hook which held it above the flames and started towards the door. ‘You first,’ he said.

Once outside, Caleb swung around so they could walk side-by-side with the kettle between them. ‘How was your journey?’ Marie asked him.

‘Uneventful,’ he answered.

She had learned not to ask about his business or where he had been, for she knew he was working on his father’s behalf. Some claimed that Caleb’s father had been the Duke of Stardock once, but at present no one claimed dominion over the island or its town on the opposite shore. Patrols from the Kingdom garrison at Shamata would occasionally spend a day or two at the local inn, or Keshian patrols might ride up from the border fortress in Nar Ayab, but neither side claimed the Great Star Lake or the surrounding countryside. This region was under the control of the Academy of Magicians on the island, and no one disputed their authority.

But Pug was no longer in control of the Academy, and like all those who lived in Stardock Town, Marie was unsure how that had come to pass. Yet, his sons – Caleb and his older brother Magnus – were still occasional visitors to the Academy. Whatever the relationship between Pug and the ruling council of the city of magicians, it was an enduring one, no matter what estrangements might have occurred in the past.

Marie had met Caleb when she was a young girl and he little more than a scruffy woods-boy. They had played together from time to time, but then he had vanished. Some said he had gone to live on an island in the Bitter Sea, while others said he stayed with the elves. They had been reunited when Caleb was Tad and Zane’s age, and Marie just four years older. Though her parents disapproved of them spending time together, they said nothing because of who Caleb’s father was.

But, after the summer during which they had become lovers, he vanished once more. His last words explained that he had to leave on his father’s business, but he promised to return. Marie had waited more than a year before bowing to family pressure. She married young Brendan, a man she eventually came to care for deeply, but who could never set her heart racing the way Caleb had. Years went by and Caleb didn’t return.

But whatever the reason for his long absence, Marie had wed, and birthed two sons – one who had died as a baby before Caleb had appeared again – without warning, three years ago at the Midsummer’s festival of Banapis.

Her heart had soared at the sight of him, and while she chided herself for allowing the memories of a silly girl to overwhelm her, she had still sought him out as soon as she knew of his arrival.

That night she had indulged in far too much wine and dancing, and it had been the most fun she could remember since before her husband’s death. After the boys were sound asleep, she had slept in Caleb’s arms.

And the next day he was gone once more.

Since then she had grown used to his ways – appearing without notice and then vanishing. He had made no promises and she had asked for none. Yet they had formed a bond and she was certain that no other woman waited for him. Why she felt so certain she couldn’t say, but she was sure.

‘Staying long?’

‘That depends.’

‘On what?’ she asked.

‘A number of things. I have a message to deliver to the ruling council, and they may take a while to consider their answer. So, a few days, perhaps a week.’

‘Anything you can talk about?’

He smiled. ‘Not really. Let’s just say it’s another of my father’s very important missives.’

‘Yet you delay to come to the festival with me?’ She wore a knowing smile on her lips.

‘A day will make no difference.’ He grinned at her. ‘Besides, I have my own business here.’

‘Oh, do you now?’

‘Yes,’ he laughed. ‘As you well know.’

As they approached the town square, several people greeted Marie. ‘Well,’ she whispered after returning their greetings, ‘we can discuss that business, later.’

Caleb looked at the unusually large crowd gathering and asked, ‘More people have arrived?’

‘Some,’ she answered. ‘A shipping concern out of Shamata has put up a building on the edge of the south road, near the old stone bridge. They have three new families and some single men from town working for them. They’re making Ellie’s pa real nervous. I think that’s half of the reason he’s marrying her off to Miller Hodover’s boy, Grame. He wants to make sure that he’s secured the grain shipment contracts up to Land’s End and Krondor.’

‘As good enough reason for a marriage as any, I guess,’ said Caleb, ‘if you ignore love.’

She glanced at him to see if he was being serious and found that once more she couldn’t quite read his mood. Sometimes Caleb was as easy to read as a child. At other times she had no idea what he was thinking, and disappointingly this was one of those times.

They carried the kettle over to one of the large wooden tables borrowed from a nearby inn and placed it on the spot indicated by one of the women overseeing the feast. One of the other women looked up, ‘Marie, Caleb,’ she said, smiling a thin welcome.

‘Tessa,’ returned Marie.

The woman, florid-faced with ale-bloom cheeks as if she was a heavy drinker, had a jowly face set in a painful smile. ‘Brought another kettle of your nice little soup,’ she remarked, her tone condescending. Tessa was the miller’s wife, and soon-to-be mother-in-law of Ellie. She was well attired and took Marie’s hand disdainfully, patting it softly, and giving a slight nod. ‘We understand, dear.’ Her tone couldn’t have been more patronizing.

Caleb’s smile didn’t falter, but there was a slight tightening around his eyes. He said, ‘That’s just the start.’ He pointed to a fire-pit set burning at the opposite edge of the square. ‘We’ve also brought that ox being roasted.’ He winked sidewise at Marie so Tessa couldn’t see. ‘And that wagon,’ he added, indicating the wagon that was rolling into view. ‘It carries two barrels of dwarven ale from Dorgin, as well as six cases of Ravensburg wine.’

Tessa blinked like a barn owl caught in lantern light. ‘Really?’ she said.

Caleb said nothing, merely inclining his head with a slight smile. The now-flustered miller’s wife muttered something under her breath, gave a pained smile, and hurried off.

Marie turned to Caleb and said, ‘Why did you do that?’

Caleb shrugged. ‘I remember how she annoyed you at the last Banapis festival. Besides, last year all I contributed was a brace of partridges and some rabbits.’

‘No, I meant why did you say we when you were the one who brought the ox and the wagon?’

Caleb said, ‘Well, because I brought them for you.’

Marie was silent for a moment before a small smile crossed her lips, but her eyes showed no humour. ‘I thank you for the gesture, Caleb.’

‘It was my pleasure,’ he said. ‘Now, shall I fetch bowls and a ladle?’

‘No,’ said Marie, her tone neutral. ‘I’ll return to the house and fetch them myself. You find the boys and make sure that they’re staying out of trouble, will you? I’m worried about them.’

He nodded, and moved away from the table. Making his way through the quickly gathering crowd, Caleb found himself both amused and surprised at the changes he had seen in the town since his childhood. Though his family had never lived in Stardock Town, they had visited it frequently.

Caleb’s father’s relationship with the ruling council of the Academy was strained, at best. Caleb had heard Pug complain about them frequently enough to fully understand the reasons behind the estrangement, but they were his father’s reasons, not his own. Magnus, his older brother, was a magician like their parents, but Caleb had been the odd child out – the one who possessed no magical ability at all.

The rest of his family viewed Stardock through a haze of political strife, but Caleb saw it simply as the place where he used to have fun as a child. In Stardock he had found children like himself – ordinary boys and girls who were concerned with ordinary things like growing up, learning to love, to hate and to forgive, trying to avoid work and finding playmates. All the day-in, day-out things that Caleb had never encountered before.

Caleb had benefited from his unusual upbringing in many ways. Much of Caleb’s childhood had been spent attending tedious classes designed for students with magical ability. Only now could he see the wisdom in this, for unlike most people without ability, he could at least sense the presence of magic. And, as the most powerful enemies facing the Conclave of Shadows were magicians, Caleb counted this ability as a good thing.

The children of Sorcerer’s Isle, and even those he lived with on the island in the Great Star Lake, were caught up in magic – even their play involved it, often to the annoyance of their teachers. For most of his childhood, Caleb had been a solitary child. While he was a good runner and as adept with a ball as any boy his age, he often stood alone, watching others play the games of illusion in which he could never partake, except as the object of a cruel child’s joke. His possessions often moved away when he reached for them, or items suddenly appeared to trip him up without warning.

The wounds of childhood were, at times, the deepest. As he grew, Caleb became less isolated from the other children, as their interests shifted from one thing to another. But even when he was at the heart of the mischief, he still felt different.

There had been only two places where Caleb had felt free and at peace as a child. In his tenth summer, he had been taken to Elvandar, where he lived with the elves for five years.

Caleb had learnt as much as he could of elven ways, and had been tutored in the sword by the Queen’s consort, Lord Tomas, Warleader of Elvandar, and was taught the use of the bow by Prince Calin and his half-brother Prince Calis. Although Caleb lacked the natural skill of Talwin Hawkins with the sword, he excelled as an archer. Both Tomas and Prince Calin had often remarked that Caleb was the equal of a man named Martin Longbow, who they claimed had been the finest human archer ever known to the elves.

Caleb knew the elves were not prone to flattery, so he took the compliment as a mark of his achievement for long, hard hours of practice. It had taught him that even an impossible goal could be reached if enough effort and sacrifice was made. He also realized ruefully that the elves had never seen Talwin Hawkins shoot; he was undoubtedly Caleb’s equal, if not his better. Though, being the second finest human archer was still no mean feat.

Caleb held deep affection for the elves and their magical home in Elvandar, and he could speak their language well. But it was in Stardock that he had learnt his first lessons about being ordinary.

He made his way through the bustling town square. If previous festivals were any indication, the boys would now be with the other youngsters near the fountain.

He acknowledged greetings from many of those he passed, for they were the same children he had played with thirty years earlier. Some of the men had grown stout and others had grey in their hair – if they still had hair. The women whom he had known when they were girls had matured, and those who hadn’t got fat, had the gaunt, lean look of too much hard work and not enough rest. A few, like Marie, had kept their looks despite the rigours of parenthood and farming.

But today they all looked reasonably happy, for it was the harvest festival, and if what adorned the table was any indication, it had been a bountiful year. Grain wagons would creak up the roads towards the Bitter Sea and barges would make their way from the great Star Lake downriver to the Sea of Dreams and the trading docks at Shamata or Landreth. Cattle in the field were fat for the winter and the sheep looked healthy as their new wool grew in for the colder season. Everywhere he looked, Caleb saw signs of bounty: barrels of freshly picked apples, baskets of berries, cherries, and figs, all manner of vegetable, and at every farm he had passed, he had seen more chickens and pigs than he could imagine.

He remembered other years when the harvest had been poor, or the times after the troll raids and he acknowledged silently to himself that these people were entitled to a little celebration of their good fortune. Winters were mild in the Vale of Dreams, snow having fallen only once in fifty years, and already farmers were planting winter crops that would grow nowhere else. By the time the autumn traders returned from the Kingdom and Great Kesh, with wagons of tools and other necessary items, the second crop would be ready to feed the demand for fresh food in the frozen north. Compared to most farming communities, Stardock was wealthy, but even here a farmer’s lot was not an easy one. Caleb pushed his musings aside as he turned the corner and spotted the boys. He had taken only one step before he realized trouble was about to erupt.

Ellie stood up and said, ‘If you two don’t stop this right now, I’m leaving.’

The two to whom she referred were Tad and Zane, who stood confronting one another, ready to resume the brawling. The lithe girl positioned herself between them and started pushing them apart with surprising determination. This caused both boys to hesitate and gave Caleb just enough time to reach them and ask, ‘What is the problem?’

Both boys glanced at Caleb, then locked gazes again. Ellie gave them a final shove. She said, ‘These idiots have decided that it’s important which one of them has the first dance with me.’

‘You promised me!’ shouted Tad, only a half-second before Zane echoed the claim.

Caleb lost his smile. The musicians had gathered near the ale casks and were tuning their instruments. In a moment they’d start playing, and the boys would start fighting. ‘Your mother asked me to keep an eye on you.’ Both boys regarded him, Zane’s expression only slightly more belligerent than Tad’s.

‘It seems there was good cause,’ Caleb added. He reached into his belt-purse, fished out a large copper coin and showed it to the two boys. ‘This is the head and this is the tail. Head is Tad, tail is Zane.’ Tossing the coin into the air, he let it fall to the ground. The boys followed its descent closely.

It landed on tails and Zane shouted triumphantly, ‘I get the first dance!’ just as the musicians struck the first notes of the dance.

Tad started to complain, but thought better of it as he noticed the dark expression on Zane’s face. Caleb had led Ellie out among the dancers and shouted back at them, ‘Winner gets the second dance!’

Ellie laughed as Caleb escorted her through the steps of a traditional farmer’s reel. Even those not dancing were clapping their hands. When it came time for him to take Ellie’s hands and lead her in a series of turns, she said, ‘That was quick thinking, Caleb.’

‘They’re getting as bad as two young bucks with green horns. What are you going to do?’

She lowered her voice a little and said, ‘I’m going to marry Grame.’

‘That’ll start a dust-up,’ said Caleb with a laugh. ‘Still, you can’t very well marry both of them.’

‘I wouldn’t marry either,’ said Ellie. ‘They’re like brothers to me.’

As he moved behind her, placing his hands on her waist and then following her steps, he said, ‘They obviously don’t think of you like a sister.’

‘Oh, they would if there were more girls around,’ she said, turning to face him before standing still as he bowed before her, ending the dance. She slipped her arm through his and said, ‘It’s just not fair, the other girls are already spoken for, or too young.’

Caleb knew what she was thinking. Many children their age had been killed during the last troll raid. There was still ill feeling from the parents of those lost children towards the magicians for not acting sooner. Caleb had been up in the Eastern Kingdoms, working on behalf of the Conclave at the time of the raid. It had occurred nine years ago, when Ellie, Zane and Tad had been little more than babies.

Caleb walked Ellie back to the boys slowly, reaching them just as the second song commenced. He planted a strong hand in the middle of Tad’s chest as the blond boy began to protest again, and said, ‘Son, don’t spoil a perfectly fine festival. You’ll get your turn.’

Tad seemed ready to argue, but seeing Caleb’s serious expression, he simply let out a slight sigh and nodded. ‘Yes, Caleb.’

Caleb was glad it had been Zane who had won, for he was the more hot-tempered of the two and would possibly have ignored Caleb and forced him to do something the older man didn’t want to do: stop him physically.

He studied Tad while Ellie and Zane danced, and watched the boy seethe. Ellie was right; they were acting contrary to their nature.

When the song was over, Ellie returned and it was Tad’s turn to dance. As he had before, Caleb watched the boy not dancing with Ellie. Zane could barely contain his jealousy.

When the third song had ended, Caleb said, ‘I’m in the mood for something to drink, why don’t you three come along?’

Ellie readily agreed for all of them, and slipped her arm through Caleb’s, leaving the boys to follow. They went to the table where four men were filling flagons of ale and then passing them out as fast as possible. Ellie declined the strong drink, instead she accepted Zane’s offer to fetch her a fruit-scented water. Tad volunteered to bring her something to eat, and she declined until she saw him wilt, so said, ‘Perhaps something light, until we all sit down to eat?’

He ran off, and Caleb sighed, ‘What are we going to do with those two?’

‘I don’t know, but something. They sit around all day with little to do. They’re not the sort to take to strong drink … yet.’

Caleb understood. Stardock Town was big enough to support a fair amount of commerce and a little bit of industry – a blacksmith had opened a shop the year before, working ore brought down from the foothills – but most of the work was done by family members. There were always more men than work to be done, and without fathers to teach them a craft, Tad and Zane were growing up without skills. They were becoming wild and feckless.

He knew them both to be bright, able young men, but without a direction to their lives, they were in danger of becoming lost. More than one younger son without a craft had ended up as a bandit, or working hand-to-mouth in the city.

Caleb was pondering the matter when Marie reappeared. He nodded to her and moved away from where Zane was anxiously awaiting Ellie’s favour. He kept his voice low so that the boy couldn’t overhear, and said to Marie, ‘I mistook your meaning, before. I thought you meant that you were worried about the boys today. I see what you mean now.’

She studied his face, then said, ‘Do you?’

He nodded. ‘Let’s keep an eye on them for now and try to have some fun. We’ll speak of this later, tonight.’

She nodded, then forced a smile. ‘Dance?’

He took her by the hand and said, ‘It would be my pleasure.’

They danced to several tunes then fell upon the heavily laden tables. After filling their platters with food, they found a quiet corner on the steps of a shop closed for the festival. Caleb set down the platters and left Marie for a moment to fetch two flagons of ale. When he returned, she said, ‘Where are the boys?’

‘Over there,’ he said, pointing to a spot on the other side of the town square. ‘I’ve not let them out of my sight.’

‘How do you do that?’

He smiled. ‘I’m a hunter. Besides, they’re hard to miss.’

She nodded, and spoke with a mouth full of food. ‘I know, just look for the trouble.’

He laughed. ‘No, just those two tunics.’

They ate quietly, with little conversation, and for the next hour the festivities continued uneventfully. Then a stout man mounted one of the wagons being used to dispense ale and started shouting, ‘My friends!’

Marie said, ‘Here comes trouble.’

Caleb said, ‘Yup,’ and put aside his plate to move towards the wagon. Marie followed.

The man was Miller Hodover, and standing next to him was a young man, roughly twenty years old. The resemblance was obvious, though the man had run to fat years ago and the boy was young and fit, his shoulders still broader than his belt.

Grame Hodover was a sturdy lad, and seemed thoughtful and bright – it was often thought a miracle that his parents could have produced such a well-liked young man.

Caleb made straight for Tad and Zane who were standing on either side of Ellie. She looked at Caleb with relief in her eyes – she knew what was coming next.

‘My friends,’ repeated Miller Hodover, ‘I have an announcement to make. Today, I am a very happy man.’ He positively beamed as he looked around the crowd.

One of the townsmen – under the influence of too much ale – shouted, ‘Why, you raising prices again, Miller?’

There was a ripple of laughter, and Hodover looked irked for a moment, but let his smile return. ‘No, Bram Connor, I’m not … yet.’

Another round of laughter followed his retort and everyone relaxed as they realized that the miller was in a particularly good mood. His well-known parsimony and love of gold were constant subjects of ridicule.