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Flight of the Night Hawks
Caleb had known the boys for most of their lives and he was very fond of them; they were as close to sons as he would ever have, and he knew that while they didn’t consider him as a father, they did look upon him as a surrogate uncle and someone their mother cared for, even loved.
He had known Marie a little while her husband was alive, and had known even then that she had felt drawn to him, for he had seen it in her eyes, despite the fact that she was a dutiful wife who observed all the proprieties. Later, she had told him that even in those days she had found him compelling. He had noticed her too, but as with any other married women, he put any thoughts of attraction aside. Two years after the troll raid and the death of her husband, they had become lovers.
Caleb would have liked nothing better than to settle down with Marie, but he knew that with his duties, it would never be possible. His work for his father and the Conclave of Shadows called for constant travel and putting himself in harm’s way. He was absent more than he was around, and Marie deserved better than that.
Yet she had never voiced any complaint nor showed any interest in another man, and Caleb secretly hoped that someday he might convince her to move to Sorcerer’s Isle – the place he considered to be home – or perhaps he would return to Stardock and live there. He put those thoughts aside as he had many times before, for dwelling on them only put him in a dark mood.
As they drove into the wagon yard, Caleb said, ‘When we get to Nab-Yar, we’ll find a buyer for this rig and purchase some saddle horses.’
Zane turned and said, ‘We don’t ride, Caleb.’
Caleb said, ‘You’ll learn while we travel.’
The boys exchanged glances. Riding was something reserved for nobility, soldiers, rich merchants, and the occasional traveller, but farm hands and town boys got from place to place by shanks’ mare or in the back of a wagon. Still it was something new to contemplate and anything that would break the tedium of this journey was welcome.
Tad shrugged then Zane grinned, his face lighting up as he said, ‘Maybe we can become fast messengers?’
Caleb laughed. ‘In that case you’ll have to become very good riders, and how is your sword work?’
‘Sword work?’ asked Tad.
‘Fast messengers get paid all that gold for getting their messages through in a hurry and safely. That means avoiding highwaymen, but also being able to fight to the death if attacked.’
The boys looked at each other again. Neither had touched a sword in their life and both thought it unlikely that they ever would. Zane remarked, ‘Young Tom Sanderling went to soldier in Ab-Yar, and he learned to handle a sword.’
‘Kesh trains all their dog soldiers to be swordsmen,’ said Caleb, ‘but, if memory serves, Old Tom wasn’t happy about seeing his son go a-soldiering.’
‘True, but what I’m saying, is that if he could learn, so could we,’ said Zane.
Tad said, ‘You could show us. You carry a sword, Caleb, so you must know how to use it.’
‘Maybe,’ said Caleb, realizing he’d probably have to teach them a few basics when they camped that evening.
Tad swung wildly at Caleb, who easily moved to the side and smacked the boy hard across the back of his hand with a long stick he had cut a few minutes before. The boy yelped and dropped Caleb’s sword on the ground. ‘The first rule,’ said Caleb, bending down to retrieve the fallen weapon, ‘is don’t drop the sword.’
‘That hurt,’ said Tad, rubbing his right hand.
‘Not as much as it would had I been using a blade,’ said Caleb, ‘though it wouldn’t have hurt for as long, because I would have gutted you a few seconds later.’ He reversed the sword and tossed it to Zane, who caught it deftly. ‘Good,’ said Caleb. ‘You’re quick and have a steady hand. Let’s see if you can avoid repeating Tad’s mistake.’
The sword felt as if it were alive and deadly in Zane’s hand. It was heavier than he had expected and its balance felt odd. He moved it around a little and flexed his wrist one way and then the other.
‘That’s right,’ said Caleb as he circled the fire to face Zane. ‘Get used to how it feels. Let it become an extension of your arm.’
Suddenly he lashed out with his branch, intending to smack the boy on the hand as he had Tad, but Zane turned his wrist and caught the branch on his blade.
‘Very good,’ said Caleb, stepping back. ‘You may have a knack for this. Where did you learn that?’
‘I didn’t,’ said Zane with a grin, lowering the sword. ‘I just tried to keep the stick from hitting me.’
Caleb turned to Tad. ‘Did you see how he did that?’
Tad nodded.
Caleb motioned for Zane to drop the point of his blade, then stepped over to the boy and gripped his wrist. ‘By turning your wrist, like you did, you achieve the most efficient use of your arm-strength and energy. You’ll see men who use their entire arm, sometimes up to the shoulder, and sometimes you have to do that for a particular block, but the less strength you use early on, the more you’ll have should the battle wear on.’
‘Caleb, how long does a fight usually last?’
‘Most are short, Tad. But if two men are evenly matched, it can continue for a long time and endurance becomes vital. And if you’re in battle, as soon as you kill the man in front of you, another will take his place.’
‘I don’t know much about battles,’ muttered Zane. ‘Maybe I should get a really fast horse …’
Tad laughed and Caleb said, ‘Not a bad way to look at it.’
After a few more minutes of sword practice, Caleb said, ‘Time to turn in.’ They had been sleeping under the wagon, so he motioned for them to take their usual places. ‘I’m going to keep watch tonight. I’ll wake Tad first, then he’ll wake you, Zane.’
‘Watch?’ asked Tad, his face looking particularly ruddy in the firelight. ‘Why? We haven’t had one so far?’
‘We were close in to Stardock.’ He glanced around, as if trying to see something in the darkness beyond the fire’s glow. ‘From here to the village of Ya-Rin, things might be less civilized. We’re heading deeper into the Vale.’
The Vale of Dreams was a lush series of rich farmlands, orchards, and villages benefiting from a seemingly endless series of streams that ran from the Pillars of the Stars Mountains to the Great Star Lake. The region had been the object of conflict between the Kingdom of the Isles and the Empire of Great Kesh for over a century. Both sides maintained claims, and both sides sent patrols into the Vale, but the Kingdom observed an unofficial accommodation with the Empire, and the Kingdom patrols did not venture too far south, and the Empire patrols did not wander too far north. As a result, the region had spawned a host of bandit gangs, mercenary companies, minor robber barons, and constant struggle. Finding a pillaged town or a burned-out village at any point was not unusual. If banditry got too out of hand, one nation would look the other way while the other sent troops deep into the Vale to punish the malefactors.
Zane looked around as if suddenly aware of a potential menace behind every tree bole. Tad seemed less convinced. ‘What would bandits want with an empty wagon?’
Caleb’s smile was indulgent. ‘Anything that you can sell, they’d want to take. Now, get some sleep.’
The boys turned in and Caleb took the first watch. The night passed uneventfully, though Caleb roused himself twice to ensure the boys were not falling asleep while keeping watch. Both had, and he gently chided each, promising not to tell the other about the dereliction.
By the third night, both boys were keeping alert and Caleb felt comfortable sleeping until dawn.
The wagon bumped down the road and Caleb said, ‘One more night under the wagon, boys. By mid-morning tomorrow, we’ll be within sight of Yar-Rin.’
Both boys nodded with a lack of enthusiasm. Riding in the back of the wagon for days had taken its toll. Both boys were bruised and sore from the constant jostling over what passed for a road in these parts. Caleb had observed that with the constant strife in the region, neither nation was taking great pains to repair what passed for highways in the region. Occasionally a town or village might elect to send out a gang to repair a stretch that had fallen into such disrepair that it was impairing commerce, but unless a significant loss of income was involved, the locals tended to ignore the problem.
Which meant that at times the boys were thrown around the back of the wagon without mercy, hanging on to the sides to keep from bouncing right out of the wagon bed. Finally Tad said, ‘Don’t bother stopping to camp, Caleb. Just get us there. I’ll sleep in the stable if it means not having to endure another day in this wagon.’
As Caleb suspected, the wagon journey had conspired to make the boys a great deal more amenable to learning how to ride. He knew he could probably find three saddle horses in the village and that after a couple of days the boys would be sore in a whole new array of places, but that eventually they would be happy to be travelling on horseback.
They were travelling slightly uphill, as the terrain rose from flat farmland and pastures and scattered woodlands, into a more heavily forested range of hills. Rising up to the south of them on their right hand was the Pillars of the Stars, the range of mountains that served as an absolute marker for the border of the Empire of Great Kesh. Yar-Rin was located in the foothills of the eastern terminus of those mountains, in a lovely valley that separated the mountains from the mammoth forest known as The Green Reaches.
But the most significant thing abut reaching Yar-Rin was they would at last be out of the no-man’s land that was the Vale of Dreams and be in Great Kesh. Caleb was determined to begin inquiring about possible apprenticeships for the boys, for he was anxious to be done with this responsibility and get back to his family on Sorcerer’s Isle. He really had no business taking the boys into Kesh, save there were little opportunities for boys their age without fathers in the Western Realm of the Kingdom these days. There was a general malaise of commerce that had been plaguing the region for over two years, giving rise to all manner of social ills: youth gangs in the larger cities, increased banditry and theft, prices for common goods soaring, and more than usual privations heaped upon the poor.
The wagon jostled more than usual when the wheels rode up over a large rock and the boys were thrown back and forth again. They were on the verge of voicing their displeasure when Caleb abruptly reined the horses in.
They had rounded a bend in the road and were now at a small crest before a long downhill run into a shallow dell. Trees now hugged the side of the road and the late afternoon shadows made the way look menacing.
‘What is it?’ asked Tad, standing up so he could look over Caleb’s shoulder.
‘Thought I saw something in the tree-line up at the top of that rise,’ he said, indicating the top of the road where it rose up on the other side of the vale.
Zane stood up next to his foster brother and put his hands over his eyes.
‘Lower your hands, Zane,’ said Caleb. ‘We don’t want them seeing we know they’re there.’
‘Who?’ asked Tad.
‘Whoever it is who is waiting for us.’
‘What are we going to do?’ whispered Zane.
Dryly, Caleb said, ‘I don’t think they can hear us.’
‘What if we just wait here?’ asked Tad.
Urging the horses forwards, Caleb said, ‘They’d just come here.’
Zane sounded worried. ‘Why don’t we turn around?’
‘Because then they would be certain we have something of value we’re hiding.’ The horses picked up speed heading downhill, and Caleb said, ‘Listen carefully. I’m a teamster and you’re my helpers. We delivered a load of trade goods in Stardock from a trading concern called Mijes and Zagon.’
‘Mijes and Zagon,’ repeated Tad.
‘The goods were paid for in advance and we are returning our wagon to our employers in Yadom.’
‘Yadom,’ echoed Zane.
‘Why the story?’
‘Because if they think we’re hiding gold on us, they’ll kill us before they look for it. If we’re just teamsters, they’ll maybe let us walk to Yar-Rin.’
‘Walk?’
‘They’ll take the wagon and horses, and anything else they think is worthwhile.’
‘You’re going to let them?’
Caleb said, ‘All I have to lose is my sword, and I can buy another.’ The wagon reached the bottom of the dell, the road disappearing under a shallow wide rill strewn with rocks which caused the wagon to bounce the boys more than usual.
As they started to climb upwards to the next ridge, Zane said, ‘What if they don’t believe you?’
‘Then I’ll shout “run”, and you two take off into the woods. As fast as you can, work your way back down into the dell behind us – you’ll never elude them if you’re trying to run uphill. When you get to the bottom, follow the creek to the south, then in the morning you’ll find a game trail a mile south coming out of the foothills. It will lead back to this road about five miles outside the village of Yar-Rin. Go there and find a man named McGrudder at the sign of the Sleeping Rooster. Tell him what happened and do as he says.’ Tad started to ask a question, but Caleb said, ‘Now silence. Do not say anything. I will do the talking.’
As they mounted the rise Caleb slowed the wagon, and at the crest, halted the horses. The sun had set over the ridge behind Caleb and the boys, turning the forest ahead into a dark tunnel as shadows quickly deepened. Caleb waited. After a moment, a man emerged from behind a tree. ‘Good day, traveller,’ he said with a smile devoid of any hint of warmth. He spoke Keshian with a Kingdom accent.
He was a stocky man in dirty clothing, a mixture of buckskin pants, a once richly brocaded shirt, a heavy faded blue sash around his waist and a sleeveless overjacket of black leather. His hair was hidden under a red bandanna and two large golden earrings were visible. He wore a long sword at his right hip and a pair of daggers on the left. His boots were frayed and down at the heel. When he smiled, the boys could see his two upper front teeth were missing. ‘Late for travel, isn’t it?’
Caleb’s voice was calm. ‘Just decided to push on a bit. There’s a clearing about a mile up the road that’s a nice campsite, near water.’
‘You’ve been over this road before?’
Caleb nodded. ‘Many times. It’s why my employer hired me for this run. What can I do for you, stranger?’
The man smiled, then said, ‘That’s the question, isn’t it? What can you do for me?’
Caleb sighed, as if he had been through this before. ‘We’re travelling empty. My apprentices and me just ran some trade goods into Stardock, prepaid, so we’re not carrying any gold. I’ve got a purse with two silvers and a few coppers in it, and the rest is the clothes on my back.’
Other men began to appear from the trees, and the leader of the bandits said, ‘Boy,’ pointing at Zane, ‘where’d you get your load?’
‘Yadom,’ Zane answered quietly as he watched four others, one armed with a crossbow, surround the wagon. ‘At Mijes and Zagon’s …’ he was about to say, ‘shop’, but realized Caleb hadn’t informed him just what sort of business that was, freight company, supplier, or merchant. He just let his words fall off as if he was frightened out of his wits, which he was.
Tad’s hand closed on Zane’s wrist, and Zane understood what it meant: be ready to jump and run. Tad glanced slightly behind him, and Zane recognized the bandits had left the rear of the wagon unguarded.
Caleb looked around and said, ‘Look, there are five of you and I’m not inclined to fight over this wagon. You know this rig isn’t worth much, so I’ll not risk these boys and myself to keep it. I’m getting paid when I get back and Mijes and Zagon can afford to buy a new one. So, how about I just get down and walk away?’
‘How do we know you’re not hiding gold on you?’ said the bandit leader, losing his smile. ‘Maybe you have it tucked in a belt or under your tunic?’
Caleb stood, showing he was wearing only his tunic, trousers, boot and hat. His sword rested on the seat next to him. ‘No gold belt, no pouch. Only spare clothes in the chest. You can search the wagon, but let me and the boys go.’
‘There’s something about you I don’t like,’ said the bandit, pulling his sword. ‘You’re no more a teamster than I am. Mercenary, maybe. No one hires a mercenary to drive a wagon unless there’s something worth killing over.’ He saw the small chest tucked under the wagon’s seat. ‘Maybe you have something valuable in that chest, huh?’ He laughed and glanced first right, then left at his companions. ‘Besides, I have no doubt should the situation arrive that you’d be happy to describe us in great detail to the local constables. That would make it hard to spend our booty!’ He drew his sword with his left hand and said, ‘Kill them!’
Caleb shouted, ‘Run!’ as he grabbed his sword, leaped to the right, putting the wagon between himself and three of the men, facing the two on his right first.
Without hesitation, Tad and Zane were off as instructed, stumbling and barely keeping control of themselves as they hit the ground and ran downhill, dodging trees and rocks.
Behind them came the sounds of struggle, and closer, the sounds of boots on the dirt as at least one of the bandits chased after them. Tad and Zane both possessed the reckless certainty of boys their age, that somehow they could navigate this rapidly darkening maze of trees and brush. Zane glanced backwards, almost losing his footing as he caught a glimpse of the man pursuing, and Tad stumbled.
They both crashed through thick underbrush and then came to a long stone ledge supporting a game trail that ran along the side of the hill. They hurried down the trail for a dozen yards, the downward slope on their right, then found a depression from runoff heading downward. Remembering Caleb’s instructions on reaching the creek, they started down the hill again, hoping the trees hid them from view long enough to elude their pursuers.
Tad grabbed Zane’s arm and pointed to his right. Zane didn’t hesitate and both boys ran down what appeared to be another slight wash, a depression in the ground between the boles carved by years of rainwater.
The light was falling fast, but both boys knew they couldn’t successfully hide for at least another half-hour. They almost ran off a ledge and barely avoided a nasty fall by grabbing a tree trunk. Tad motioned and Zane followed as they hurried along the lip of a deeper wash that cut downward at an angle to the floor of the dell.
The thick underbrush slowed the boys. They could hear the sound of pursuit growing louder behind them. Zane stopped at the base of a tree and glanced upwards. He fashioned a stirrup with his hands and motioned for Tad to climb. Tad stepped into his friend’s hands and was boosted up to a branch four feet above their heads. Zane glanced around and saw a fallen tree branch roughly the size of his forearm that would serve as a club, so he picked it up and tossed it up to Tad.
Tad deftly caught it with one hand, then reached down with the other. Zane leapt, catching his friend’s outstretched forearm and clambered up to rest upon the heavy branch with him. Both boys tried to calm their breathing, for they were gasping for breath. The boys spread out, lying sideways head to head, so that their feet wouldn’t dangle down in plain sight.
A moment later two men appeared, running quickly through the woods. They stopped directly below the two silent boys. ‘Damn!’ said the first bandit, a tall, rangy man with dirty blond hair that hung limply to his collar. ‘Where’d they go?’
‘Gone to ground, I’ll wager,’ said the other, a broad-shouldered man with a heavy black beard. ‘Bloody brush hides the tracks. You go that way,’ he pointed to a rough path along the edge of the rill that ran through the centre of the dell, ‘and I’ll work my way up. Let’s see if I can flush ‘em back to you.’
They moved off and the boys waited. Tad put his finger to his lips. His caution turned out providential, as a few minutes later the tall blond bandit returned down the path. Zane quietly took the club from Tad’s hands and waited as the man hurried through the quickly darkening woodlands; he took no pains to hide his whereabouts. Muttering curses to himself, he was oblivious to the sudden movement above, as Zane twisted so his hips lay across the branch and swung down hard holding the wooden club in both hands. The man walked right into the blow, a loud, meaty crack that made Tad wince at the sound. It shattered the bandit’s nose and knocked him backwards as his feet went out from under him.
The impact also had the effect of causing Zane to pitch forward and tumble to the ground on his back, knocking the air out of his lungs. Tad leapt down from the tree and knelt next to the groggy dark-haired boy. ‘You all right?’ whispered Tad.
‘I’ll live,’ he said, standing on wobbly legs. ‘How’s he doing?’
Both boys turned their attentions to the fallen bandit. Kneeling next to him, Tad said, ‘I think you killed him.’
The man’s face was awash with blood from a pulped nose and a gash across his forehead. Zane leaned down and touched the man’s chest. The man’s eyes suddenly opened and he reached out, grabbing Zane’s tunic. The boy yelped in fear and pulled away as the man tried to wipe the blood out of his eyes with his other hand. Half-blind, the bandit said something incoherent but his murderous intent was obvious.
Tad picked up the branch Zane had used as a club and with all his strength he hit the man in the back of the head, the blow providing another nasty sounding crack. The bandit released his hold on Zane and pitched over sideways. The man lay groaning, and Tad hit him again, this time causing the man’s body to jerk and then lie still.
Zane had scuttled backwards when released and now he rose and came to stand next to Tad. After a moment, he whispered, ‘He’s not breathing.’
‘I hope he’s not,’ said Tad.
‘You killed him,’ said Zane softly, in mixed admiration and shock.
‘He would have killed us,’ was Tad’s reply.
‘Hey!’
Both boys turned as one at the sound from below, the second man trudging back up the wash. ‘Did you see them?’
Zane glanced at Tad, who nodded, and yelled back in a faux deep voice, ‘Up here!’
Zane’s eyes grew wide, but Tad pointed upwards, and put his hands together. Zane stepped into the stirrup Tad formed, and took the boost to reach the branch. ‘I’ll draw him here,’ said Tad. ‘You hit him!’
Zane said, ‘Then give me the branch, you fool!’
Tad was just on the verge of tossing it up to Zane when the second bandit came hurrying up the gully. He was out of breath but the instant he saw Tad standing over his fallen comrade holding the makeshift bludgeon, he pointed his sword and ran towards the boy.
Tad stood rooted in terror for an instant, then at the last he ducked as the bandit tried to cut his head from his shoulders. The blade struck the tree trunk and cut deep, like an axe. The blade was wedged deep and the bandit yanked to free it. Tad thrust upwards into the man’s face with the butt end of the dried branch, and the erstwhile club struck him square on the nose. ‘Damn!’ shouted the man as he threw up his left arm, knocking aside the branch while he staggered back. Tad could see the man had some small cuts on his face and a few embedded splinters, but the blow did nothing more than annoy him. Tad grabbed the hilt of the man’s sword and yanked the blade free, then stood resolutely facing the bandit.
The man drew back his dagger. ‘If you know how to use it, y’whelp, you’d best be about it, else I’ll cut you from chin to crotch for what you did to Mathias.’ He stepped forward, blade ready, as a pair of feet appeared directly over his head. Zane jumped from the branch above, one foot striking the side of the man’s neck, the other landing on his shoulder. The boy’s weight drove the bandit straight to his knees and Tad could see the wide-eyed, startled expression on his face as his head twisted impossibly to one side, and he could hear the loud crack as his neck broke.