Flight of the Wounded Falcon

by Trish Mercer

The next afternoon Mahrree was at the Briter house helping snap beans for dinner with Salema, who munched one right after the other.

  “Mama,” Salema said to Jaytsy, “why are they so good this year? They just taste so . . . green.”

  Jaytsy grinned. “I lived on green beans when I was expecting you. You must have acquired a taste for raw beans then.”

  “Well, whatever it is, they’re wonderful,” she said, trying to find a more comfortable position as she looked through the window toward the barn. She was due to deliver at any time now, and her mother, mother-in-law, and grandmother kept a close eye on her, waiting.

  But Salema wasn’t as worried as they were. She was sure she could handle delivering this baby on her own. That’s what worried the women. And worried Lek, who begged them to never leave her alone, or him alone with her.

  “A twinge?” Mahrree asked as Salema repositioned herself again.

  “No, just typical back pain. Sewzi!” she called. “Bring me a pillow, please?” Salema looked out the window again.

  “Watching for Lek?” Mahrree asked taking another handful of beans.

  “Yes. He brought the boys and me here before he took off. Papa Shem needed him to take care of something, but I’m not sure what.”

  “Think he’ll be back for dinner?” Jaytsy asked.

  “I’m not sure. He’s been gone for over an hour now.”

  “Well, I’ll be sure to put something aside for him in case he’s not back,” Jaytsy said, watching her daughter closely. “That looked like a twinge, Salema.”

  Salema sighed. “Mama, I know a twinge when I feel one. I’ve done this before, you know.”

  Jaytsy shrugged. “I know. I also know the more babies I had, the less time I had to prepare. What was a long rocking pain with you was an excruciating hiccup by the time I had Young Shem.”

  “I appreciate your concern but I really—” She stopped short, took a quick breath, and held it.

  Mahrree and Jaytsy looked at each other expectantly then sidelong at Salema.

  “Yes, it’s him! Lek’s back. As I was saying, I really can handle this. And no, I’m not feeling birthing pains, so if the two of you would stop watching and questioning me, I’d appreciate it. I’ll have Calla over tonight before I go to bed analyzing my every move, I’m sure!”

  Jaytsy and Mahrree looked at each other, a little embarrassed.

  Lek burst into the kitchen door and looked at his wife eagerly.

  “No, Lek. Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Lek sighed in relief and sat down on a chair next to her at the table. He automatically took a bean, bit into it, then pulled a face.

  Salema sighed at him. “Why do you do that, honey? You hate raw beans.”

  Lek continued to grimace, his lips smacking unpleasantly. “Every time I see you wolfing them down I think, maybe I’ll like them this time. Blech.”

  Mahrree chuckled and patted his arm.

  “So what did Papa Shem need you to do?” Salema asked, taking the half-eaten bean out of his hand and finishing it off herself.

  Lek spat out the rest of the bean into his hand and, slightly disgusted with himself, looked to Mahrree for assistance.

  She handed him a cloth.

  “Papa needed me to find Dr. Snelling,” Lek said, wiping his hands. “He received a message from the scouts that they may need some help.”

  Jaytsy put down the bowl she was carrying to the table. “A doctor? It’s not for Honri, is it?”

  “No, Uncle Honri’s fine. It’s another rector who’s supposed to be coming home in a few weeks, the one who was in Mountseen, or whatever province Thorne’s numbered it. Honri has been in Edge ever since he brought Mrs. Yordin there, and had a feeling he should visit Rector Cox in Mountseen. When he got there, he found Cox suffering from chest pains and shortness of breath. Honri’s getting him to Edge, and Papa’s sending an emergency retrieval team to bring him home. Dr. Snelling expressed interest about going down if he were needed.”

  “That explains a few things,” Jaytsy said. “I wondered where Peto and Cephas were off to this afternoon in such a hurry. They must be helping get the supplies ready. When does the team plan to leave?”

  “In the morning,” Lek said. “Dr. Snelling was quite excited. Mrs. Snelling, on the other hand . . .” He chuckled softly.

  “She realizes he’ll be back in just a few days, right?” Salema said. “He’s just helping the ill rector come home.”

  “She does. Look, I need to go over to Aunt Lilla’s. Uncle Peto asked me to tell her he’ll be home late. While I run over there, would you please—” He gestured to his wife above her head.

  Salema sighed loudly. “I know what you’re doing, Lek. You’re just going next door and will be right back. I promise I will not deliver this baby during those five minutes you are away.”

  Mahrree snorted as Lek blushed.

  He patted her on the shoulder and tentatively walked to the kitchen door.

  “Just go, Lek! I’ll still be sitting here, eating beans.”

  Lek nodded at her, then sent a pleading look to Jaytsy and Mahrree.

  They both winked back at him.

  ---

  Young Pere was in his bedroom pretending to study his anatomy notes, but his mind was too far away in Sands to remember anything useful about the spleen.

  The side door opened, and he heard his cousin Lek’s voice. “Aunt Lilla? Kanthi said you were here.”

  “Tidying up in Peto’s office, dear,” Young Pere heard his mother call from the other side of the house. “Are you coming with good news?”

  Lek walked past Young Pere’s open door and into Peto’s office at the end of the hall.

  “No—no baby yet. Aunt Lilla, Uncle Peto’s going to be home late tonight.”

  Young Pere crept noiselessly into the hallway to hear his cousin’s muffled voice. His mother responded, and he caught the name of Assistant Ahno.

  “Yes,” Lek was saying. “They hope to leave by dawn. Dr. Snelling will stay tonight at the Second Resting Station with the other scouts. Papa’s there with Uncle Peto making sure they’re well supplied.”

  Young Pere’s heart pounded. An emergency retrieval team, leaving at dawn.

  There were no coincidences, his father often said to their congregation. Everything happens for a reason, every opportunity arises as a challenge, a temptation, or an opportunity.

  He already had the jacket and the notes. What he didn’t have, however, was Woodson’s extra training. But did he really need that? He’d read Calla’s book, he was clever, he had charisma, he was his grandfather’s grandson . . . What more did he really need?

  Heat surged through his body, making his hands tingle and the hairs on his neck stand on end. He’d prove it to them, to all of them—especially to Muggah and Eltana Yordin. What did little old women know about the world and the army anyway?

  He already knew enough about the world to conquer it.

  Now he just needed to sneak into it.

  ---

  Peto arrived at the Second Resting Station to see the head of the scouting corps waiting for him. As Peto reined Clark 14 to a halt at the porch, he smiled reassuringly.

  But the scout frowned. “You arrive alone, Rector Shin. Am I to guess that you weren’t successful in getting me a doctor?”

  “No, I was,” Peto told him as he dismounted. “Dr. Snelling’s wife is doing last minute fixes to the trousers we found him. In case the doctor has to go to any shops in Edge—”

  “Province 8,” the scout corrected him.

  “—whatever. Anyway, in case Snelling needs additional supplies, we don’t want him looking out of place in the village.”

  “Clearly you haven’t been to the world in some years, Peto,” the scout said, shaking his hand. “The fashion of the world is to look out of place. Anything goes.”

  Peto chuckled. “Well, we want Snelling looking respectable, which is tougher to do. The worldly trousers we had were a bit too loose an
d long. Snelling’s a small man, and we didn’t want him tripping over himself. Unless that’s a new trend too, Woodson?”

  Woodson grinned. “Who knows. In the last week that may be the latest big thing. It’s hard to keep up with the world sometimes.”

  “But somehow you do it.”

  Peto followed Woodson into the Second Resting Station, and marveled as he always did how the young man who was his decoy in Edge when the Shins were smuggled out was now the head of the entire corps.

  But it was only fitting, he decided. Woodson’s family had originated in the world, too, and Woodson was their third child, so Salem snuck them out. But not quite soon enough. Woodson was born in the forest just above Edge, and always had an affinity for the trees. In fact, if he stood straight and motionless, he resembled an oak, even in his face which had acquired a slightly gnarled texture over the years. Only to himself, Peto thought of him as “Barkman.”

  Inside the expansive Resting Station were six other men, dressed in the green and brown mottled clothing of scouts, and each preparing his pack. They glanced up and nodded their welcome to Rector Shin.

  “Dr. Snelling will be here in less than half an hour,” he told them. “He’s quite excited to be of service, so you may need to rein him in a bit. Remind him it’s only a quick in-and-out job, and that he shouldn’t speak to anyone if it can be avoided.” He glanced around. “Where’s Guide Zenos? I thought he was briefing you about his brother-in-law Honri? He had a few loose strings he wanted tied up in case he needed to leave the world with you.”

  Woodson waved some pages. “Zenos left us his Honri notes. There seems to be a problem with a family west of here. Apparently Rector Anth and Guide Zenos have been counseling a couple. We’re not sure what happened, but Rector Anth came here in a hurry hoping the guide could help him. Shem filled us in enough before he headed out.”

  Peto nodded. “Good. If you have any questions, I may be able to help. In the meantime, I see my nephew Cephas was thorough with getting you supplied. He’s headed back to the main storehouse now, so if there’s anything else you can think of, just send a tower message and we can make another delivery before you leave in the morning. The First Resting Station has the collapsible poles for the net litter. Be sure to take those in case Rector Cox’s situation is worse than we expected and he can’t ride—”

  Peto was interrupted by a young woman hurrying into the Station. “Rector Shin! There’s an urgent tower message for you.”

  “Sorry, men,” he said to the scouting party who nodded for him to check the message, and he rushed outside. The tower nearest the Second Resting Station flew the general’s banner—now the banner for Rector Shin—the emergency banner, and smaller flags spelling out RECTORY.

  “The rectory?” Peto whispered to himself. “What would be going on at the rectory? There are no events or—”

  A knot tightened in his stomach.

  “Young Pere!” he whispered. He spun and ran back into the station. “I’m terribly sorry, gentlemen, but it seems I need to run off as well. Assistant Ahno should be here soon with Dr. Snelling. I hate having to leave like this but—”

  Woodson patted him on the back. “Believe it or not, Peto, we’ve done this before. Take care of what needs to be done, and trust the Creator will fill in for us the bits and pieces you and the guide didn’t get to tell us about.”

  “Good luck, men,” Peto told them. “Have a safe journey there and home, and I’ll keep you in my prayers.” He jogged out of the station and grabbed the reins of Clark 14. As he mounted and spurred the horse into a run, he ran through his mind all that could have gone wrong.

  There were far too many possibilities.

  ---

  Dr. Snelling and Assistant Ahno arrived a short time later, Ahno huffing to catch his breath.

  “Guide Zenos here?” asked Ahno. He was a couple years younger than the guide, but the heavy-set man was not nearly in as good physical condition, nor was he used to riding so hard. Neither was his horse, which was frothing outside.

  “No, I’m sorry,” answered Woodson. “Guide Zenos had an emergency to attend to, but he left us the plans.”

  “Well, gentlemen, you need to start readying the horses.”

  Woodson startled. “What do you mean, readying the horses?”

  “You’re supposed to be on the trail in the next hour!” Ahno told him.

  “What?”

  “The storm!” Ahno pointed up the canyon. “You can’t see it from here, but down in the valley it’s obviously headed for the canyon. On my way here I ran into one of Rector Shin’s boys. He told me the rector wanted you to leave as soon as possible to avoid the rain.”

  Woodson looked back at his men. “But Peto left us less than half an hour ago—”

  “And I ran into his son about fifteen minutes ago, just before I met up with Dr. Snelling here. From the valley we saw the storm moving in from the east. Big heavy clouds. If there’s a downpour—”

  “I know, I know,” Woodson said in irritation. “The canyon channels the water into a small river that can last until tomorrow noon. The horses can’t manage the canyon in that.”

  “Isn’t the glacial fort reachable by nightfall?” Dr. Snelling asked eagerly.

  “Yes,” Woodson sighed. “I suppose we best get ready. We have to beat that storm.”

  The seven men were jogging toward the barn when another rider joined them.

  Assistant Ahno smiled. “Ah, you’re the one I met. Does Rector Shin still want them to leave now?”

  “Yes, sir,” the young man said, sliding off his mount. His size caught Assistant Ahno by surprise. So did his features. “And I’m going with them.”

  Woodson stopped. “You’re the younger Perrin, aren’t you?”

  “Well that’s obvious!” Assistant Ahno laughed softly.

  Young Pere cringed briefly. “Just Perrin, please. And yes, I am.”

  “Why am I taking you?” asked Woodson as he folded his arms.

  “Part of my studies, sir.” He nodded to Dr. Snelling. “Dr. Toon wants his medical students to get experience in real-life emergencies, and suggested that I accompany Dr. Snelling as an assistant. If that’s all right with you, sir? Dr. Toon apologizes for not coming with me to explain the new program. He’s engaged with a patient right now, but we didn’t want to lose this opportunity—”

  “Sure! Why not?” Dr. Snelling smiled. “Toon always has excellent ideas!”

  Woodson narrowed his eyes at Young Pere. “Your father’s all right with this?”

  “Who do you think sent me?”

  Woodson shrugged and nodded when he saw Young Pere’s pack already over his shoulder. “All right then. Perrin the Youn—, I mean, Perrin—” Woodson sighed. “I’m not sure if I can call you that. I never dared call the general by his first name, even though he asked me to several times. How about I just call you Pere?”

  Pere nodded. At least the ‘Young’ was gone.

  “So Pere, how fresh is your horse?”

  He glanced back at the weary animal he “borrowed” from Uncle Deck. “That one’s not a Clark.”

  “That’s all right,” Woodson said. “We’ve got a few Clarks and GrayClarks in the barn. Come saddle one up.”

  ---

  Half an hour later the men were almost ready to leave. Assistant Ahno was securing the packs on to the pack horses when another horse rode up to them. The men were startled as they noticed the woman with long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail.

  Young Pere did a double take when he saw her. She was slender, maybe in her early thirties, and startling beautiful with sharp yet delicate features. She wore dark colored breeches and a dark top, and a pack was slung across her shoulders. Traveling clothes of the women of Salem.

  Woodson walked up to her. “Can I help you?”

  “Yes. It looks like you’re leaving. May I join you?”

  Woodson blinked at her. “We have another tag-a-long? You know, people don’t just casua
lly join an emergency retrieval team. We put visitors through training about world language differences and customs . . .”

  His voice trailed off when he saw her determination. He tried one more thing. “And women come only with their husbands, for protection.”

  The woman looked at him with hardened eyes. “I no longer have a husband. But I do have a great aunt in Edge who recently lost her husband and is desperate for family. The rector there had been working with her, trying to get her ready to come to Salem, and has been sending me messages about her. He was trying to set up a visitation for me, and it was supposed to happen in a few weeks, but I just found out your plans have been pushed up. I’m ready if you are.”

  Woodson slowly shook his head. “I’m sorry, Mrs. . . . What was your name?”

  “Just call me Amory.”

  “Well, Amory, Guide Zenos is very particular about who goes on these trips—”

  “Yes, I know. I spoke with him not too long ago. He’s been tutoring me on the ways of the world when he’s had time, and he’s the one who told me about the emergency trip to Edge. He’d be here himself to give you permission to take me, but some of my neighbors have been having some marital problems that grew a bit violent. He’s there now with our rector trying to sort it out. It wasn’t exactly the best time to pull him away just to come introduce me to you, wouldn’t you agree?”

  Woodson scratched his head. “No, you’re right. You’re fortunate to run into us. We weren’t scheduled to leave until morning, but with the approaching storm—”

  “Yes, I think it’s quite providential that I happened to run into you just now. Must be the hand of the Creator. I’m ready to go,” Amory hinted.

  Woodson turned to the rest of the scouting party. They nodded to him as well.

  “Well,” he sighed, “it’s only a quick in-and-out. Come to think of it, that’s how my first venture into the world was.” He nodded to Young Pere. “I was your father’s decoy that night. The scouts put a lot of faith in me even though I wasn’t yet fully trained, so I suppose it’s time for me to put some faith in two others.” He looked at Amory and Young Pere. “Rule one: talk to no one but who we allow you to, make contact with no one without our permission, and keep a low profile. Quick in-and-out. Understand?”

  Young Pere and Amory both nodded and said, “Understand.”

  Woodson walked over to Assistant Ahno and shook his hand. “I thank you for your help, Assistant. When Rector Shin or Guide Zenos returns, I assume you’ll fill them in on our departure?”

  “Of course, of course! May the Creator guide and protect you until you return.”

  ---

  Peto reached the Main Storehouse to find Cephas standing outside, talking to a couple of young women. He was grinning at the conversation until he looked up and saw his uncle riding fast.

  “Uncle Peto, something wrong?”

  Peto reined Clark 14 to a stop. “Do you know anything about the emergency message?”

  Cephas frowned. “Emergency message? No, I didn’t see one.”

  “It was for the rectory, but I just came from there and everything is quiet. No sign of mischief, or fire, or—”

  He paused when he saw the inquisitive faces of the two girls.

  “—of anyone else. I was hoping you might have heard something.”

  “No, I’m sorry, Uncle Peto. Do you want help looking?”

  Peto scoffed in exasperation. “I don’t know what I’m looking for! I’m going to ride for home, see if the message was from there. If you hear or see anything, let the towers know, all right?”

  “Of course, Uncle Peto. Good luck!”

  Peto spurred Clark 14 and headed west.

  “Dear Creator, what’s going on? Father, do you know?”

  Young Pere has decided to fly again, Peto. This time he’s succeeding.

  A few minutes later Peto burst into the door of his house. “Lilla!” he bellowed. “Now!”

  She came from the kitchen, flour on her hands, surprise on her face. Sakal and Centia came from the kitchen, too, alarmed to hear their father shouting.

  “What’s wrong?” Lilla asked, brushing her hands on her apron.

  Peto grabbed her by the arm. “We’re riding—NOW! Sakal, Centia—finish dinner yourselves!”

  Lilla’s eyes were huge as Peto dragged her out the side door. “I don’t understand—”

  “Young Pere’s trying to fly again—”

  She sprinted for the barn.

 

  ---

  “This is your last chance to glimpse the valley,” Woodson said as the horses climbed higher up the canyon. The rain was beginning to fall and the view of the valley was quickly obscuring. “If you want to wave goodbye, do so now,” Woodson called as he waved to the valley. “Silly tradition, but . . .”

  Dr. Snelling and the other scouts twisted in their saddles for a quick wave.

  Young Pere didn’t bother. He was too focused on what lay ahead, planning his moves for the next few days. Getting out was far easier than he imagined. Amory had it right—the Creator’s hand must have been involved. There was even a rainstorm covering his tracks as he left his confines, just like a storm had washed away the tracks of another escaping party, many years ago.

  Assistant Ahno didn’t question the directions from his father, the men in the tower accepted his message with a nod, and Woodson hesitated for only a moment. There certainly was one advantage to living among people who are completely honest in all things: they were amazingly gullible.

  Young Pere was a little disappointed with the ease of his success. The only difficult part was timing everything, but even that came together in just a few minutes. That Uncle Shem didn’t arrive while they were getting ready was another stroke of luck. Whatever couple was fighting, he sent them a silent thank you. He hoped taking over the fort in Sands wouldn’t be as simple. He was looking forward to a real challenge.

  He put his hand on his pack again just to make sure it was still secure. Inside and folded tightly was Lieutenant Roarin’ Yordin’s jacket, along with a pair of blue trousers that closely matched it. Tucked inside the jacket was a list of all the officers he was supposed to memorize, which he’d get to later. Mrs. Yordin would forgive him for not saying goodbye.

  Young Pere noticed Amory didn’t turn around, either, to wave farewell to Salem. She merely pulled her overcoat tighter around her body and adjusted the hood to keep the rain off her face. She glanced at Young Pere again, as she had many times in the last hour, and gave him a faint smile before his horse fell in line behind hers as the trail narrowed.

  Chapter 20--“I don’t even know how to say it.”