The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon

by Wark, RM

  Gentry was curious to see if the university’s library held any more detailed maps of the Stratford Region, particularly in the areas to the east and north of Norman, the areas that were not well delineated on his father’s maps. A kind librarian guided him to the right section and he spent the next few hours poring over the maps.

  It had been a somewhat worthwhile exercise. One of the maps showed a series of streams between Norman and Yukon, causing the path between the two villages to be somewhat jagged, presumably jutting north and south as needed to find the narrowest stream crossing. Gentry also noted that there was in fact one main path that led north from Yukon to the area where his father believed Mt. Xavier to be. There were cautionary notes about rockslides being prevalent in that area, but nothing that mentioned Mt. Xavier or Lady Dinah’s castle specifically.

  He could see that the sun was starting to go down and he decided it was time to leave. Though he did not make it back to the lively tavern he had spied coming into Bartow, the Cornerstone Inn and Tavern had a nice little pub inside where he was able to enjoy a pint or two (or three) of his favorite beverage before heading to bed. The next morning he stocked up on some food for Casper and himself, some rope and extra blankets, and he headed out of town.

  *************

  The road north to Colton was in the shadow of the Atlian Mountains; the wind was ferocious and although it was spring, it was dreadfully cold. Both Gentry and Casper were miserable but they trudged forward through this barren land of rocks and wind. Each night they took shelter near the largest outcropping of rocks they could find. Gentry had the benefit of a small tent. Unfortunately Casper had nothing but the shelter of the large rocks and a few extra blankets that Gentry had purchased in Bartow. Gentry gave Casper a good rubdown at the end of each day and this seemed to satisfy the horse enough to tolerate the blustery night. “We shall find you a good stable in Colton,” Gentry promised.

  After two long days and nights, the Village of Colton finally appeared as a distant spec on the horizon. The wind was merciless and the going was slow, but Gentry and Casper fought their way to the village, arriving just before noon. There was only one inn in town, the Settler’s Inn. It was a far cry from the rather posh Cornerstone Inn and Tavern back in Bartow, but it had a stable, and a pub conveniently located on the first floor.

  Gentry brought Casper back to the stable. The stable boy seemed fairly competent albeit quiet and somewhat nervous. He was a slight boy, barely over five feet tall, and Gentry guessed that he could not have been more than ten years old.

  There had been another man, a local, in the stable barking orders at the boy when Gentry arrived. The boy flinched when the man raised his hand to make a point. This caused the man to laugh and he proceeded to taunt the boy. It was all Gentry could do to hold his tongue. The last thing I need is to cause trouble for myself, thought Gentry, keeping his head down as the man finally left the stable.

  The boy saw to the man’s horse and then came to collect Casper. Gentry tried to make conversation with the boy, and though he took care to be as pleasant as possible, it did not seem to register. The boy barely looked at him. He just stared at the ground saying “Aye, sir” in a quiet little voice whenever Gentry spoke.

  As he started to leave, Gentry reached into his burlap sack for a gold piece and placed it in the boy’s hand. The boy’s eyes grew large at the unexpected gift and for the first time he looked straight at Gentry. “Thank you, sir,” he said, smiling brightly.

  “Please take good care of my horse,” Gentry said.

  “Aye, sir,” replied the boy, clutching the gold piece tightly.

  *************

  Gentry had not slept much the past few nights, so after leaving Casper he headed straight to his room for a nap. His room was on the second floor of the Settler’s Inn. It was small – just a bed and a little desk with a window overlooking the alleyway behind the inn – but it was all he needed.

  The sound of boisterous noises from the pub on the floor below woke him up around dinnertime. His stomach was growling, so he headed down to the pub for some food, and perhaps a pint of ale. His father’s cautionary words about avoiding such a beverage in Colton were long forgotten. Gentry was seated at the bar chewing on some overdone dried-out meat with a little ale to help wash it down when he heard a particularly loud group of characters enter the inn.

  “Well, look who decided to show his ugly face again,” shouted an overweight man sitting at a booth somewhere across the room from Gentry.

  “Shut your mouth,” responded an angry voice that sounded vaguely familiar.

  “Still a bit surly from your little incident in Bartow?” teased the overweight man. “Looks like he left you with a nice black and blue present.”

  Gentry, whose back had been to this entire conversation up until now, could not help but turn his head to see what the fuss was about. He almost choked on some dry meat when he saw Dennison – his one eye bruised and swollen shut, the other just bruised – and Clive standing in the room. They were surrounded by a handful of other men, presumably their friends. Gentry turned back around as fast as he could, left money on the bar for his tab and quickly made his way to the staircase leading up to the rooms. The bar was loud and rather crowded so Gentry was hopeful that he might leave before being noticed. He knew he could handle Dennison and Clive if necessary, but he was no match for all of their friends, too.

  Alas, sometimes quick movements draw unwanted attention, and Clive did in fact see Gentry heading up the stairs. “Dennison!” he cried, pulling at his friend’s sleeve. “He is here!”

  “Who is here?” Dennison barked, angry at being interrupted before he could respond to Ned, the overweight man who had been giving him a hard time.

  Clive pointed to the stairs and Dennison caught a glimpse of Gentry just before he disappeared down the hall to his room. Dennison quickly gathered his entourage and started after the man from the River Nye.

  *************

  Gentry’s mind – and heart – were racing when he returned to his room. He secured the latch on the door and instinctively moved the small desk in front of it to act as a barricade. He did not know if he had been seen or not, so he was debating whether to lay low until the early morning hours or make a run for it now. The sound of several footsteps running up the stairs and the subsequent pounding and breaking open of doors along the hallway settled the debate; it was time to leave. Gentry grabbed his satchel (fortunately he had not unpacked anything being as tired as he was) and opened the window to the alleyway below.

  Jumping out of a second-story window is a good way to hurt oneself – but for once luck was on Gentry’s side. Several hay bales were lined up in the alleyway below. They would break his fall. He jumped right as Dennison’s motley crew started forcing the door to his room open. Gentry scrambled off the hay bales and then bolted to the stable to retrieve Casper.

  The small desk proved to be quite sturdy and had held the men back for a while, but eventually they broke through and swarmed the room. Dennison noticed the open window and poked his head out into the alleyway. Alas, he did not see anything; the alleyway was deserted. “Wizards be damned!” he shouted, slamming the window closed and then kicking the desk that had held them back. Dennison left the room in a foul mood; his entourage followed behind not daring to say a word.

  Gentry arrived at the stable door out of breath. “Make haste, boy! I must leave with my horse at once!”

  The stable boy jumped up and had Casper out in no time. He could tell the kind man was in trouble, so without even thinking about it he said, “Sir, there is a brown house at the left fork in the road heading north. You shall be safe there.”

  Gentry thanked the boy and took off riding Casper as fast as the horse could go. Gentry was panicked and therefore eager to make his way to the Colton Gap and be done with Colton (and Dennison) for good, but nightfall was fast approaching and that gave him pause. The mountain pass was difficult enough to traverse in the day time wi
th all the steep cliffs and rocky ledges, not to mention the possibility of a sudden storm coming through. This time he remembered his father’s words of caution, and at the fork in the road, Gentry turned left and sought out the brown house.

  The sun’s final rays were shining over the Cook Mountains to the west, providing just enough light for Gentry to make out a little shack of a brown house down the road, mostly obscured by trees. As he approached he noticed a little shed behind the house and brought Casper inside. It was not a true stable, but there was a little bit of hay on the ground and enough space for Casper to turn around, so it would do for the night. Gentry found a well, retrieved some water for Casper and started rubbing the horse down.

  *************

  After some time the boy arrived. He had brought Casper’s food, which had been left behind in the rush. The horse chowed down on some oats and carrots and settled in for the night. The boy then brought Gentry inside the little brown house. “You may sleep in my bed for tonight. I do not mind.”

  “Luca, is that you?”

  The unfamiliar voice in the dark startled Gentry.

  “Aye, mother. I am home,” replied the boy.

  “And whom were you speaking to just now?” she demanded.

  Luca had finally lit the one oil lamp in the house and Gentry was able to see a frail woman lying on a couch in the adjacent room.

  “My name is Gentry, madam. Your son was kind enough to offer me and my horse shelter for the night.”

  “Why are you not staying at the Settler’s Inn?” she inquired, suspicious of the stranger standing in her house.

  “It was too crowded,” the boy interjected. “Have you eaten yet, mother?” Luca was determined to change the subject.

  “No, I am not hungry anyway. But there is some pottage for you and your friend.”

  Gentry watched as the woman took a long drink of some ale – or was that whiskey? – before pulling a blanket over her. It was not long before she was sound asleep.

  Luca prepared a small bowl of pottage and offered it to Gentry. He declined it, though he gladly accepted the offer of tea. As Luca gobbled down his heavy stew, they started talking.

  “Where is your father?” Gentry asked, as he poured himself another cup of tea.

  Luca did not immediately respond. “He died a few years ago. The physician told us his heart stopped working.” The boy’s voice was quiet and sad.

  “I am sorry, Luca.” The question had been innocent enough – a feeble attempt to start a conversation. I should have known better, Gentry thought. The father was not here. Clearly he was either dead or gone. No good could have come from such a question.

  “Aye. I miss him. Every day.” The boy then turned to the adjacent room where his mother was sleeping. “Things were different when he was alive.”

  “Is that when the drinking started? When he died?”

  Luca shrugged. “My mother was always fond of the drink. But it became much worse after my father passed into the next life.”

  “I see.” Gentry did not know what else to say about the matter, so he changed the subject. “You are quite good with horses, Luca.”

  The boy gave the briefest of smiles before his face became sad again. “We had a horse once, but we had to sell her. We did not have enough food for ourselves. My mother said we could not keep the horse.”

  “Do you have enough food now?” Gentry asked, clearly concerned. It is a good thing I did not accept his offer for stew. The poor boy has a drunk for a mother and hardly any food to eat.

  “Aye. My mother’s cousin owns the Settler’s Inn. He caught me begging once and decided to give me a job in the stables. He pays me with food and ale, but not gold.” Luca paused and looked at Gentry. “Thank you for the gold pieces, sir. I have been needing new shoes.”

  Gentry smiled. “You are welcome.”

  It was quiet for some time. Gentry thought of his family back in Reed, and how his own life was so much different from Luca’s. It seemed so unfair that he should have so much and this boy should have so little. Both of Gentry’s parents were still living. He had never wanted for anything (except maybe a sibling). His parents doted on him. He had never gone hungry. At Luca’s age he was still in school; he had not been forced to work to provide for himself and his family. Aye, his father was fond of the drink – but nothing like Luca’s mother. And Gentry always had new shoes when his feet outgrew the old ones. Always.

  “Sir?”

  “Aye?”

  “Why were you running from Dennison?”

  Gentry was taken aback by the unexpected question. “How did you know that?”

  Luca hesitated. “He came looking for you at the stables, sir.”

  “You did not say anything, did you?” Gentry could not conceal the growing alarm in his voice.

  “No. No, sir.” Luca shook his head. When Dennison and his gang had come into the stables the boy had been too scared to do anything but shake his head at their questions. After they were satisfied that Gentry was not hiding inside, they left.

  “Good.” Gentry let out a sigh of relief.

  Luca bit his lip. “Dennison is a bad man, sir. You should be careful.”

  “Aye,” Gentry said with a nod. “He tried to rob me, but I fought him off.”

  “So you were the one that gave him the black eye?” The tone of Luca’s voice was that of amazement. Nobody he knew had ever stood up to Dennison. Nobody had the courage.

  “Aye.”

  Luca bit his lip again and was quiet for a time, deep in thought. “They say he killed his own father,” he said finally. “You were lucky Dennison did not find you.”

  As shocking as the revelation was, Gentry was not surprised. “Well, I am lucky I had you to help me escape. Thank you, Luca.”

  “You are welcome,” the boy said, smiling.

  The conversation drew to a close and Gentry retired to Luca’s bed. He protested when he saw the boy lay out some blankets for himself on the floor. Unfortunately Luca would not hear of having Gentry on the floor, so that is the way they spent the night – Gentry in a bed that was much too small, Luca on a floor that was much too hard.

  Gentry arose early and took care not to wake the sleeping boy. He left another two gold pieces on the kitchen table for Luca’s troubles and headed out to the shed to retrieve Casper. As he was leading the horse out of the shed, Gentry caught sight of Luca coming out of the house with a bag in his hand.

  “Please, sir,” pleaded the boy, “take me with you. I shall take good care of your horse and do whatever else you need. I promise I shall not be any trouble.”

  Gentry sighed. “I would love to bring you along, Luca – but I must get somewhere as soon as possible, and I cannot have you slow me down. Casper has enough weight on him already. He cannot carry another passenger. I am sorry.”

  The boy was clearly crushed by the rejection and looked down at the ground without speaking.

  The sight of the crestfallen boy tugged at Gentry’s heart. The boy does not deserve the dreadful life he has been given. So Gentry found himself relenting a bit. “But,” he said, “I must come back this way when I have completed my task and I shall need a place to stay. If you still want to come with me then, and if your mother permits it, I shall bring you with me back to Reed.”

  The boy looked up a Gentry. “You promise?”

  Gentry regarded the small boy before him with desperate, pleading eyes. “Aye, I promise.”

  This seemed to cheer Luca up and he gave Gentry a slight smile. “Aye, all right.”

  The sun was just starting to rise as Gentry and Casper took off down the road, headed for the Colton Gap.

  CHAPTER SIX

  The Start of Fallon's Apprenticeship

  While Gentry was making his way through the Colton Gap, Fallon was adjusting to life as an apprentice under Steward Isaiah. At this point he had only been with Steward Isaiah for a week, but it had not taken long to develop a routine.

  Fallon would wake up with t
he morning sun, eat a delicious breakfast prepared by Beatrice (sometimes Steward Isaiah would join him, sometimes not), and spend the rest of the morning in Steward Isaiah’s study learning about certain topics, the current topic being that of weaponry and defense tactics. All three of them would eat lunch together and then Steward Isaiah and Fallon would venture outside (assuming the weather cooperated) to breathe in fresh air and start the hands-on portion of lesson. This continued until sundown when dinner was usually served. Unless he had business with the Council of Elders, Steward Isaiah was usually present for dinner.

  After dinner Fallon was free to do as he pleased. He was allowed to peruse the plethora of books in Steward Isaiah’s study, or head outside to stare at the stars, or into the Village Square to take in the sights. Regardless of what he chose to do with his free time, Beatrice made clear that Fallon was to be back in the house and in bed each night by ten o’clock. Fortunately there were several bell towers scattered throughout the Village Square that sounded off on the half hour and erupted into a brief melody every hour (until midnight), so adhering to this rule was not especially difficult. Not that Fallon needed the bell towers, anyway. He usually opted to do some reading in Steward Isaiah’s study.

  Hexaday was treated like any other day and Fallon was expected to rise with the sun and engage in his studies. He suspected the same would have been true for Heptaday as well if Steward Isaiah had not been so keen on spending the day with his children and grandchildren.

  “Every day we wake to see another morning is a gift,” Steward Isaiah explained to young Fallon. “It is important that we spend a little time with those that make our lives worth living.”

  It was too far to make the trip to Littlebrook in a day to see his own family, but Fallon was comforted by the thought that he would be back home for a while around Zeke’s birthday. Too bad that is still three months away, thought Fallon sadly, before returning to a somewhat boring book about the history of swords and sword-making.