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

by Wark, RM

  Fallon did not know how to respond to the Steward. He did not know how he knew to follow the boar. He had just known. “I do not know, sir,” he said softly, with his eyes lowered.

  The Steward stared at Fallon for some time. He was clearly puzzled by the story. “Cheer up, Fallon, you did a good thing,” he said finally.

  The boy picked up his head and smiled but said nothing.

  “By chance did you happen to find the leaves from the bionna plant I mentioned before you left?”

  “No, sir.” Fallon had forgotten all about the Steward’s request.

  “It does not matter. We shall save that potion lesson for another time. I look forward to hearing more about your trip later. I must leave for my son’s house now.”

  “How is your grandson doing?” asked Gentry, just now remembering the gravely ill child that had kept the Steward home.

  “Fine, thank you. I think he is on the mend now.”

  “I am glad to hear it.”

  The Steward was reluctant to go into details about his grandson and was hoping they would not ask any more questions. Both Gentry and Fallon were fairly worn out from the trip and were not inclined to continue the conversation, much to the Steward’s relief. As it turned out, little Calvin had contracted the second wave of the Nye fever that was going around the village. Fortunately, Elder Catherine had plenty of meehli flower on hand to help with the nausea and dehydration. The Steward knew that the only reason she had the flower was because Fallon had mentioned it as an alternative to the scarce seaginger root all those months ago. So in a sense, Fallon had saved two lives that week.

  Trust your instincts, the Steward thought angrily as recalled Lady Dinah’s advice. Deep down he was still not certain about Fallon. Something is different about him, something not quite right. But Fallon had just saved two lives, including Calvin’s. Plus, he has those dreams, and was also gifted with superior instincts. How else would he have known to follow the boar? The Steward had been looking for some sort of sign to lead him to the right decision about Fallon. Had the events of this week been the elusive sign? The Steward sighed. The question in his mind went unanswered.

  *************

  Hundreds of miles to the east, Cedric watched with a growing sense of dread as a continuous stream of Easterners made their way down the mountain trail. A handful of Easterners had tried to sneak into the Durango Region in recent months, but the locals had been able to drive the unwelcome visitors, who were weak and starving, back with relative ease. But now they came in droves, and many came armed. The locals in the borderlands were quickly becoming overwhelmed. Cedric knew that if things continued as they were, it would not be long before the Easterners made their way into Inverness and Cortez.

  Cedric turned away from the marching ants in the distance and galloped as fast as he could to the only one he knew that might be of help. He only hoped that Lord Jameson would be there to receive him. The wizard had been absent much as of late.

  Cedric did indeed find Lord Jameson at his home in the hills outside of Cortez and hurriedly told him all that he had seen.

  “What shall be done?” Cedric repeated the question he had been asking for months now. “The situation is becoming much worse, and I fear what may happen if we do not act quickly.”

  Lord Jameson sighed. “I am but one wizard, Cedric. I cannot fight this battle alone.”

  “Then send for the others.”

  “I have written to Queen Dinah, but these things take time.” Lord Jameson did not blame the queen for her cautious approach. There were but a few Western Wizards remaining following the Second War, not enough to risk on things that remained as yet uncertain.

  “How much time?” Cedric said with growing desperation.

  Lord Jameson could only shrug and shake his head.

  *************

  Weeks and then months went by with Steward Isaiah no closer to making up his mind about Fallon. He stepped up the training somewhat, mostly out of guilt as the boy had not done anything to disprove himself worthy – but there was still a palpable distance between the two.

  Beatrice noticed it most of all and on several occasions scolded the Steward. “You are quite cold with the boy, but he only tries to please you. I do not mean to tell you your business, Isaiah, but it seems you would have better luck with him if you were not so…distant.”

  The Steward acknowledged her, yet he did not know how to go about improving things. He knew the distance would disappear once his doubts about Fallon did – but he did not know when or if that would ever happen. Isaiah was frustrated with himself and the situation. He promised the Elders that the first year was just a trial period and that he would refrain from delving deep into the training until he knew for certain that Fallon was the chosen one to replace him. There were only a few months remaining in the first year of training, and he was no closer to making up his mind than he was the first day he learned Fallon’s mark was not as it should have been.

  Fallon also struggled. The unsettling dream had come back again; it was the same as before, yet not quite. He was in low spirits again, though he spoke not a word of it to the Steward or anyone else.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The 14th Year of Fallon

  Fallon had been allowed to go back to Littlebrook for a few weeks around the winter solstice. And for three days starting after the shortest of all days, the House of Tobias was aglow with candles and filled with the smell of lamb roast, sweet bread, stew, pastries and pies. Tobias brought forth his fiddle, and many a dance was made around a bonfire beneath the stars, his sons and his neighbors alike leaving soft footprints in the snow. The song Elizabeth sang was an old one.

  A new year to mark the time

  Another year to remember

  All the things one must never forget

  On a starry night in Dodecember

  Remember those who came before us

  And those who left us all too soon

  Hold the children close and tight

  Beneath the distant winter moon

  For tomorrow is a gift to all

  Who linger in this life

  ’Tis a day to search for truth and beauty

  ’Tis a day to chase the light

  And this may be the year one finds

  All that is sought and more

  For anything is possible

  For those willing to explore

  A new year to mark the time

  Another year to remember

  All the things one must never forget

  On a starry night in Dodecember

  It was the coming of a new year, and for a small time Fallon was filled with hope and promise. As he watched Zeke and Talia twirl around the fire, he could not help but think how much they had grown. And later as he listened to their schoolhouse gossip, Fallon could not help but be a little sad at everything he was missing.

  A few days later Fallon was saying his good-byes. Parting was difficult as always, but the pain was somewhat lessened by the fact that he was finally allowed to take Attawan with him. He rode his horse alongside Isaiah as they traveled back from Littlebrook to the Steward’s house.

  *************

  It had been a lonesome winter, with the Steward saying little to Fallon outside of their training sessions. Fallon occupied much of his free time reading or tending to Attawan, his mind always drifting back to his home and the people he loved. He continued to be haunted by his dreams. He continued to suffer in silence.

  On a dreary day in late winter, Steward Isaiah received word that Elder Jacob’s wife, Bessa, had passed on to the next life. It was not unexpected – she had been suffering from dementia for some time and her health had deteriorated considerably – but it was sad nevertheless. The Steward brought Fallon along with him to pay his condolences.

  “I am truly sorry to hear about Bessa, Elder Jacob,” said the Steward as he sat down with the Elder for some tea.

  “Thank you, Steward. She was sleeping peacefully when her time
came. For that I am thankful.”

  “When did you return from Chesterville?”

  “The night before last.”

  It was common practice in the Village of Reed to bury the dead near their home, so they would always be a part of the land from which they came. There was a small cemetery on the edge of the Village Square for those who did not own property elsewhere, but that was not the case with Elder Jacob and Bessa. She was buried under a large oak tree on their family’s property in Chesterville, and one day Elder Jacob would join her.

  The passing of Bessa reminded Steward Isaiah of his own beloved Nora, who was gone more than twenty-six years now. Both men sat in silence, sipping their tea, mourning the loss of their wives.

  Fallon kept quiet for some time out of respect, but he was still just thirteen years old and it was hard for him to sit in complete silence for long. “Elder Jacob, would you mind if I had a look at your library? It must be the best library this side of the River Nye and I have been quite eager to see it again.”

  This made Elder Jacob laugh and brightened the mood considerably. “Of course you may, Fallon,” he said with a smile. “You are a young man after my own heart. There is nothing quite like a good book to take your mind off things.”

  Elder Jacob and the Steward continued to drink their tea while Fallon perused the books. He saw one on the history of ale-making that caught his attention. I wonder if Gentry might be interested in this one, he thought as he grabbed it from the shelf and began flipping through the pages. He and Gentry had grown close ever since their trip to the Cadian Forest, and it did not take long for Fallon to learn of his friend’s love for ale.

  When it was finally time to leave, Elder Jacob made a point to invite Fallon back any time, and Fallon graciously took him up on that offer. From then on, the two had a standing tea-time every Heptaday, assuming the weather was not too disagreeable. They mostly read books quietly by the fire, but they often spoke about the books they had read, and Elder Jacob would usually share a story from his own life that always gave them both a good laugh. The winter was not so lonesome any more, and for that Fallon was grateful.

  *************

  There is no greater pain, no greater sorrow, than the death of a child. And there is no greater guilt, no greater anguish, than feeling responsible for the death of a child. Gentry was a changed man following his journey to Mt. Xavier. He was not as quick to laugh, and when he did, the laughter did not last as long. All who knew him took notice, but he was dismissive of their concerns. “No man may stay forever young and innocent,” he would say, and then his eyes would stare off into the distance. His parents would catch glimpses of the old Gentry every once in a while and their hearts would be hopeful for a time. Yet somehow his thoughts always returned to Luca, and the old Gentry would become lost once again.

  The snake bite had taken its toll and relegated Gentry to the confines of the village for much of the fall and winter, but with the coming of spring came a renewed commitment to seek justice for Luca. Gentry’s work with Steward Isaiah and Fallon came at a perfect time; it provided Gentry with the money he needed to finance his planned trips up to Colton, and it also provided him with the pretext he needed to keep those trips secret from his parents.

  Over the winter Gentry had grown a bit of a beard; he had also grown another inch and added more weight and muscle since his last trip up to Colton. Nevertheless, he knew that he would be easily recognizable if he were to run into Dennison or Clive, so he took care to walk in the shadows.

  On his first trip up to Colton, he stood in the darkness of a small alleyway across from the Settler’s Inn, watching out for Dennison and his friends. Hours went by before he spotted anyone familiar – it was the overweight man who had been teasing Dennison the night Gentry was forced to flee. Gentry did not know his name, but it was Ned, the shoe cobbler who had sealed Luca’s fate by piecing together how Gentry escaped.

  Ned walked out from the pub with another scruffy-looking man and they were enjoying a pipe together. “Where might your fearless leader be tonight, Taylor? I hear he is quite popular with Silvia’s girls,” he teased. “Perhaps he is keeping them warm?”

  “Wizards be damned,” said Taylor, shaking his head. “One of these days Dennison shall tire of your mouth always running, fat man.”

  “And what then?” replied Ned.

  “Dead men do not run their mouths.”

  “Am I to fear for my life now?” It was said mockingly, but Ned’s voice betrayed a hint of underlying trepidation.

  “Many have lost their lives for less,” replied Taylor coldly.

  That seemed to keep Ned quiet for a while and he said no more as he puffed on his pipe. Gentry’s heart started to race in excitement. He had found one of Dennison’s crew.

  That night Gentry followed Taylor home. Fortunately for Gentry, the young man had consumed enough alcohol to completely dull his senses and he had no idea he was being followed as he stumbled along the dirt path. Taylor lived in a shabby little house only a few blocks from the pub. Gentry watched as he fumbled with the door before letting himself in. There did not appear to be anyone else in the house with him. The anger over the death of Luca started to boil his blood, but Gentry managed to talk himself out doing anything rash. “Patience, Gentry,” he muttered to himself. “You shall not do Luca’s memory any good if you die straight away. Justice shall come soon enough, but there is more planning to be done first.”

  *************

  Before he knew it, the month of Tetril had arrived. It would be Fallon’s birthday again soon. It seemed only yesterday that he had awakened to find himself marked – it was hard to believe a year had already passed. Much to Fallon’s surprise, the Steward had once again granted him several weeks of leave so that he might help his father. Although it was in fact a busy time on the farm with all the planting and tending to the fields, Fallon did not understand the Steward’s reasoning. Would not my time be better spent learning the ways of a Steward instead of the ways of a farmer?, he thought to himself with a frown. Yet he did not say anything to Isaiah. In truth, he was looking forward to getting home, and was especially excited to make the trip by himself (with Attawan) for the first time.

  Fallon’s 14th birthday was celebrated with much fanfare in Littlebrook. Talia and Elizabeth outdid themselves with a vast assortment of cherry pies and sweet bread. Fallon and his growing appetite happily devoured all that was before him. “I had forgotten how much a growing boy could eat,” his father chuckled.

  While Fallon was busy eating and helping Tobias with chores on the farm, Steward Isaiah was lamenting his impossible situation. He had spent much of the time immersed in the Council Chamber archives in hopes of gaining some insight into what to do about Fallon. Unfortunately, so much was lost during the Great Fire that his efforts had been for naught.

  A Council meeting was scheduled for the following night, and Isaiah knew that the Elders were expecting to hear his recommendations on Fallon. He was at a loss as to what he would say. He was hoping against hope that Lady Dinah had found her mother’s notes and that a new message would arrive momentarily, but he knew that was wishful thinking. He also knew that even if Lady Dinah had found her mother’s notes, it was quite possible they would be of no use to him. Fallon’s situation is not the same as the twins. There is no other boy to take his place…

  *************

  The Steward was noticeably somber the night of the Council meeting and several Elders questioned whether he was feeling all right, but he assured them he was fine.

  “And now, Steward Isaiah, we reach the final item on the agenda. The Council should like to hear your thoughts on young Fallon,” said Elder Anne.

  The moment Isaiah had been dreading the entire meeting was finally upon him. With a deep sigh the Steward addressed the Elders. “I had hoped to come to you today with a decision about Fallon and a clear direction forward. Unfortunately, my initial correspondence with Lady Dinah did not provide any real insight
s, and she has yet to locate her mother’s notes from the meeting with Steward Elijah regarding the twins. Alas, I have nothing to go on save my own instincts, and they are quite muddled at the moment. My instincts have never failed me before; I do not understand why they choose to do so now.”

  The room was silent. Each of the Elders had been waiting in great anticipation to hear Steward Isaiah’s recommendation. They had not been prepared to witness the Steward’s sad struggle.

  Uncomfortable with seeing her beloved Steward fret, Elder Anne spoke up. “Well, perhaps we might help to un-muddle your instincts. I, for one, would not mind hearing what you have learned of Fallon this past year – the good and the bad.”

  The other Elders nodded in agreement with Elder Anne, with several murmuring, “Aye, please do tell.”

  The Steward thought back through the year as he had done countless times in the days leading up to this meeting. It was quite simple for him to rattle off all the good – and sometimes amazing – things that Fallon had accomplished: the ingenuity he showed in the poison challenge, his premonition of the Komanite attack, how he saved Gentry from the black boca bite, and how his advice about the meehli flower helped to save Calvin and other young victims of the Nye fever. He was also a quick study, and with the exception of marksmanship (which had been slowly improving under Gentry’s tutelage), he seemed to have a good grasp of the things expected of a Steward. The only negative things the Steward could think of were Fallon’s less-than-spectacular skills with weapons, and the fact that his mark was not the same.