by Wark, RM
Elder Tomar was the first to speak after the Steward recalled his impressions of Fallon. “I must say it is quite telling that you are still bothered by Fallon not having the proper mark, even after spending a year with him. Perhaps it is time to cease Fallon’s training and wait for a boy with the proper mark to arrive.”
Not surprisingly, Elder Lydia and Elder Peter nodded their heads vigorously in agreement. Elder Theodora remained quiet.
“I would argue that Fallon’s accomplishments were quite exemplary in this past year. How many people – let alone a young boy – have ever saved a life from the bite of a black boca?” Elder Anne argued. “Steward, aside from the mark, has Fallon done anything to make you believe he is not worthy of taking your place?”
“No,” the Steward admitted.
“That just proves my point,” retorted Elder Tomar. “Clearly if the mark being different did not matter, there would be no argument about this. But even with all of Fallon’s accomplishments, the Steward is still not convinced that Fallon is the chosen one. I, for one, find that troubling.”
Elder Jacob had remained quiet thus far, but felt the need to speak up in defense of the boy who had become dear to him. “I understand your position, Elder Tomar, but you do not know Fallon as I do. He is a bright and kind soul. I see in him everything that the village could possibly want in a Steward. He was marked on his 13th birthday, and his gifts of prophecy and insight cannot be ignored. He would be a great asset to the village. We would be foolish to turn him aside.”
With that the Elders started squabbling – with Tomar, Lydia and Peter arguing against Fallon, and Jacob, Catherine and Anne arguing in his favor. Theodora bit her lip and said nothing. Graham seemed to find the entire exchange amusing and refrained from joining in the verbal sparring.
It was the Steward who finally brought an end to the quarreling. “Enough!” he said in a loud voice that had not been heard in quite some time. “I appreciate the heightened emotions surrounding this issue. Your opinions reflect everything that I, too, have been grappling with this past year, to no avail.” The Steward looked around the room at each of the Elders sternly. Then he sighed, “I fear I am just not ready to make any decision regarding Fallon. I need more time.”
This time it was Elder Catherine who spoke. “If you please, Steward, I believe Elder Jacob made a good point in that the rest of us do not really know Fallon. Perhaps it would be helpful if we each had a chance to spend some time with him and come to know him better. We could then share our own personal judgments concerning Fallon, based on our interactions with him. Perhaps that might help you reach a final decision.”
The room was quiet as everyone considered Elder Catherine’s proposal. Steward Isaiah was intrigued. He knew that the Steward before him, Steward Benjamin, would highly disapprove of any Elders being involved in the evaluation of the young apprentice, but Isaiah had already done so many things differently from his predecessor. He gave Fallon Heptadays off, he let him go back home for weeks at a time, and he even shared the duties of training Fallon with Gentry. Fallon’s situation was unique and called for a unique approach.
Eventually Steward Isaiah spoke. “Without another marked boy before us, and with the continued threat of the Komanites, I am reluctant to stop the training process just yet. And while it may or may not be helpful to have you all come to know Fallon better, I do not think it shall hurt. I am in favor of accepting the Elder Catherine’s proposal,” said the Steward.
It was settled. Fallon was to spend some time with each of the Council Elders in the coming year, and hopefully by his 15th birthday Isaiah would have a better sense of whether or not it was Fallon’s destiny to be the next Steward. He was not quite certain that the Elders would be able to sway him one way or another, but at least Elder Catherine’s proposal gave him the one thing he had sought: more time to make a decision about Fallon. And with the blessing of the Council, no less.
*************
Once again, despite repeated protests by her helpers, Lady Dinah set out alone in search of her mother’s journals. This time, Lady Dinah happily stayed clear of the Taiga Forest, though she still cursed the fairy lights that beckoned to her each evening as she camped along its fringes. The wizard managed to pass through Dawson, the Colton Gap and the Village of Colton without anyone taking much notice of her. Then she crossed over the Stockton Bridge into the Village of Koman.
There was not much to this village at all – not even an inn for her to stay at – but unlike the other villages where people mostly let her be, the people in Koman were surprisingly attentive and friendly to strangers. Lady Dinah would have found this to be even more surprising had she known of the Komanites’ reputation for conducting terrible raids and inflicting much damage within the Village of Reed. But for now she remained ignorant, and was therefore able to enjoy the pleasant aspects of Koman.
For a small village, there was also quite a bit of diversity in Koman. Upon speaking to a few people about where she might stay for a night, she learned that several residents hailed from villages in Aberdeen – the region the other side of the Atlian Mountains – and in the far southern reaches of the Quintara Region. It seemed the Village of Koman was home to many people who, for one reason or another, had left the homes of their ancestors, and Lady Dinah found this to be quite curious.
Lady Dinah had been directed to the House of Silas for a bite to eat and a place to rest for the night. “Silas and Zahara always welcome guests into their home,” it was said by more than one Komanite she had met in the street. She made her way down the dirt path to the largest house in the village, which really was not that large at all. It was prominently perched on the foothills of the Cook Mountains, however, and thus had a good view of the village and the surrounding areas.
Zahara opened the door herself, and welcomed Lady Dinah in. The wizard beheld Zahara’s smiling face for some time. She was a stunning beauty, with glowing skin the color of chocolate and soft brown eyes. Her long curly hair was pulled back by a scarf and her flowing dress of red and yellow and orange reminded the wizard of the wild flowers of Aberdeen.
“Hello, my name is Zahara,” she said, bowing her head in greeting to Lady Dinah.
“Hello, Zahara, my name is Dinah,” replied the wizard. “I am in need of a place to stay for the night and was told I might find some accommodations here.”
“Aye, you are welcome to stay here. There is an extra room at the end of the hall,” Zahara said, beckoning Lady Dinah to follow her.
The room was small but clean, and it came equipped with a wash basin. After freshening up, Lady Dinah joined Zahara, her husband Silas, and their daughter Jezebel for dinner. Silas’s pale white skin stood in stark contrast to his wife’s dark tones and this made him seem rather sickly when standing next to the beauty. Superficial appearances aside, it was easy to see that Silas and Zahara were very much in love, and from that love came an equally beautiful daughter who looked to be thirteen or fourteen years old.
The meal was simple – just vegetable stew and a small loaf of bread. Silas seemed embarrassed, with a hint of resentment, as he apologized for the meal. “I am afraid that the Village of Koman does not have the benefit of fertile land, so we must make do with what we have.”
“This is all that I shall need, thank you,” replied the wizard. “So have you lived here your entire lives?” she asked, changing the subject.
“My daughter and I were both born and raised here, but I met my beautiful wife in Sandoval,” Silas said, smiling at his wife.
“Sandoval! Such a beautiful place,” exclaimed Lady Dinah.
“You have been there?” asked Zahara with surprise. In all her years in Koman she had only met a handful who had ever been to the place of her birth.
“A long time ago,” replied the wizard, “but I remember the fragrant tropical forests and endless grasslands well.” Lady Dinah smiled at the distant memory, one of the earliest from her childhood. But this also brought back memories of her
mother, something still painfully raw for the wizard, so she soon turned her attention back to Zahara. “You are a long way from home,” she observed.
“Aye,” replied the beauty, “but Sandoval would never truly be home without my love, so I followed him here to Koman.”
Having forgone her own opportunity to leave her home in Mt. Xavier in pursuit of her love, Lady Dinah could not help but ask Silas, “Did you ever consider making Sandoval your home instead?”
He reflected on this for a moment before speaking. “If I had a choice in the matter, I would have loved to make a life in Sandoval. Alas, I have a duty to protect the interests of Koman and its people.”
“Ah, so you are the Steward of Koman?” asked the wizard.
Silas seemed to flinch at the word Steward. “Something like that,” he said curtly, rising from the table. “Now if you shall excuse me, I must be getting off to bed. I have a long day tomorrow.”
After Silas left, Lady Dinah turned to Zahara. “I hope I did not offend him with something I said.”
“No,” Zahara assured her, “there are just some things in life that he wishes were different.”
Lady Dinah smiled and continued to eat her soup.
“So, what brings you to our village anyway?” asked Jezebel. It was the first time the young girl had spoken that evening.
“Jezebel, do not be rude!” admonished her mother.
“It is quite all right, I do not mind the question,” said the wizard. “I am on my way to visit an old friend who lives near Rocky Point.”
“Mmm, Rocky Point has the best fish,” smiled the girl as she rubbed her belly.
Lady Dinah could not help but laugh. “If I come back this way I shall bring you some.”
Lady Dinah was already gone by the time everyone else awoke the next morning. Although she typically refrained from using her magic around strangers, she felt compelled to thank her hosts for their kindness. When Silas, Zahara and Jezebel came down for breakfast, they were stunned to see bowls of tropical fruit – bananas, mangos, and pineapples – sitting on the table.
Zahara almost started crying at the sight of the fruit she had not seen in nearly fifteen years. In truth the magical fruit only tasted half as good as the real thing – no wizard had ever managed to exactly duplicate the taste of any food – but it was still quite delicious to the mouths that had become accustomed to vegetable stew.
“How in the world…?” asked Silas aloud, in awe of what his eyes beheld.
“You were right, Father,” remarked Jezebel as she bit into a mango, “we should always be kind to strangers. Ooh, and I hope she does end up bringing us some fish from Rocky Point.”
*************
The months of Fallon’s 14th year continued to pass with alarming speed. In addition to continued teachings from the Steward, and outdoor skills and weapons training with Gentry, Fallon was also receiving occasional instruction from the Elders.
The Steward had decided the best way to expose the Elders to Fallon would be to involve them in his training. Isaiah had the Elders pair up in teams: Lydia and Tomar focused on business and financial matters; Graham and Theodora focused on geography and politics; Jacob and Peter focused on literature and mechanics (for example, the construction and operation of a water wheel); and Anne and Catherine focused on the art of healing and natural sciences. The team and respective training topic rotated on a weekly basis, so by the end of the month, each team of Elders had at least one afternoon of interaction with Fallon. Elder Jacob continued to have a bit more exposure as the Heptaday tea-time continued through the year, weather and other activities permitting.
Fallon enjoyed getting to know the Elders and their various personality quirks. Each seemed intent on making the assignments as difficult as possible and he greatly appreciated the challenge. It had always seemed to him that Steward Isaiah held back in his own teaching. It was refreshing to be pushed so hard. He looked forward to those afternoons and part of him lamented that they were not more frequent.
He also enjoyed the training sessions with Gentry. The sessions were not as often as they had been in the previous year – perhaps they lasted a good part of a week each month – but Gentry always made the most of them. Although Gentry was often quiet and serious, Fallon had learned that his friend was quite the practical joker (like the time Fallon found his canteen filled with sand instead of water), and that always made things more interesting. Yet the most interesting part of the year thus far had been a trip with Steward Isaiah to the small fishing Village of Rocky Point at the beginning of Heptuly.
*************
Since his trip to the Cadian Forest the previous year, Fallon had not left the Village of Reed. When Steward Isaiah suggested a fishing trip in Rocky Point, Fallon was more than eager to go. The Steward asked Gentry to join them as well, but the young man begged leave; he had a personal matter to attend to and was prone to seasickness besides. Nevertheless, Fallon was determined to enjoy the trip, even if he had to do so without the benefit of Gentry’s company. It helped that the Steward was in a surprisingly good mood. “There is nothing like the smell of the sea air to renew one’s soul, Fallon,” he explained as they traveled down the road to Rocky Point.
The Village of Rocky Point was smaller than Reed, but less spread out, so in Fallon’s mind it still seemed quite large. They stayed at the Samora Spray Inn, a little place perched upon a small cliff of rocks overlooking the Samora Sea. Fallon had never seen the ocean before, and he marveled at the sight and the sound of the waves crashing into the shoreline, and the endless calls of the seagulls. The air was filled with the smell of salt and fish, and everywhere he looked Fallon could see fishing boats. They were way out in the distance at the edge of the horizon; they were tethered to the various docks that jutted out into the harbor; they were hoisted up in the air on big wooden contraptions – “dry docks,” the Steward had called them.
The sun was bright when they awoke the next morning. “Hopefully the fog shall stay away for a little while,” remarked the Steward. “My friend Bill owns a small fishing boat and has agreed to take us out for the day.”
They walked along the wobbly wooden dock until they reached the Lucy Grey – one of the smaller sailboats in the harbor. It had but a single mast, and it did not look like it could hold more than five or six people at most. Unlike some of the other boats, there did not appear to be any place to take shelter within the boat either. Fallon was wary of the watercraft and swallowed hard.
“Hello, Bill!” the Steward cried out to the man inside the boat, who had his hands full of fishing net.
“Isaiah, it is good to see you again,” the man said, dropping the net into the hull of the boat and carefully walking around the mast to approach the Steward. After greeting Isaiah with a firm handshake, Bill turned towards Fallon. “And you must be Fallon,” he said with a smile. “Have you ever been on a boat before?”
“No sir, I have never even been to the sea before.” Fallon was awe-struck and yet noticeably nervous.
“Well, you are in for a treat, my boy. Come aboard.” Bill held his hand out for Fallon to step into the boat. The boy looked back at Isaiah and the Steward could see the fear in his eyes.
“It is all right, Fallon. Bill has been doing this for many more years than you have been alive. We shall be in good hands,” the Steward said reassuringly.
Fallon grabbed hold of Bill’s hand and carefully stepped into the boat. He was not quite prepared for all the rocking motion that his weight created and would have fallen if not for Bill’s steady grip.
“Careful,” Bill laughed.
Steward Isaiah stepped in behind him and it was not long before Bill released the Lucy Grey from the dock and pointed her out to sea.
“I shall need some help getting out of this harbor,” Bill said as he handed an oar to Fallon. Having never been on a boat before, Fallon did not know at first what to do with it, but he watched Bill’s movements with the other oar and followed suit. It was a nic
e day out with little wave motion, so it was not too long before the rowing stopped and Bill released the sails.
Fallon was amazed at how quickly the boat picked up speed and headed out to sea. “Are we going far?” he asked as he nervously looked back to the shoreline.
“Not too far,” said Bill. “We are sailing to a favorite fishing spot of mine where the herring and codfish are always plentiful.”
Fallon kept waiting for his unease to abate, but even after they had been sailing without incident for more than an hour he remained as nervous as ever. As he stared back towards where the shoreline used to be, Fallon was suddenly struck with an overwhelming desire to turn the boat around and head back. He looked up to the sky. The sun was shining brightly and the sky was blue, yet it seemed to him that the winds had picked up a little.
Isaiah happened to look over at Fallon and noticed the boy did not look well. “What is wrong, Fallon? Are you seasick?”
The boy shook his head. “No, sir. I just…I have a bad feeling about things. Perhaps we should head back.”
Steward Isaiah frowned. He was not certain if the boy’s nerves were getting the better of him or if this was something more.
Before the Steward could say anything, Bill chimed in. “Ah, you are still a bit anxious about things, I see. Do not worry, Fallon, we shall be headed back soon enough. It is not too much farther to the fishing spot. Besides, I cannot come home empty-handed or the missus shall not have anything to cook us for dinner.”
They sailed on for another hour without incident, much to the relief of Steward Isaiah who began to think it was just Fallon’s nerves. Yet the boy’s unease continued to grow. They had only been at Bill’s favorite fishing spot for perhaps ten minutes – just enough time for him to throw some nets into the water – when dark clouds started to appear on the horizon. Before long, the winds became even stronger and the Lucy Grey started to rock quite a bit.