Flight of the Falcon (Noble Heart Book 1)

by Cynthia Griffith

  The next day he began his work early at the mews so that he could get as much done as possible before he left for the practice fields. He was in the middle of cleaning out cages when the master waved him on. “Go, Noble! You will be late to the fields if you do not hurry. The dirty pens will still be here waiting when you get back!”

  He arrived at the training fields and saw to his surprise that the king and Prince William were there before him. Prince William jumped up and down when he saw Noble, and waved to him. King Stephen beckoned for him to approach.

  “Good morning, Noble,” King Stephen said. “William has begged me to bring him here to watch you practice. He would have had us here yesterday, but I feared you would be nervous on your first day with us watching, and I wanted Sir Robert to get a good feel for what you could do. He tells me you are a fine archer already! That is good.”

  Noble bowed. “Thank you, Sire. I owe my background in archery to my grandfather. But I have never even handled a sword before, Your Highness. I fear I shall be nervous indeed if you are watching when I pick one up for the first time.”

  The king laughed. “Have no fear. Today you shall show us what you can do with a bow. We will leave the swords for another day.”

  “Hello, Noble!” the prince said eagerly, wanting Noble’s attention. Noble could see that the little boy looked up to him, in much the same way he looked up to Sir Robert and the other knights. It made him feel proud that the small prince liked him and wanted to learn from him. Noble greeted him with a smile and a small bow.

  They all walked over to the archery field and Noble demonstrated what he could do with the longbow. Each bulls-eye was met with a cheer from little Prince William, and praise from his father. When his quiver was empty, Noble picked up a crossbow and another quiver of arrows.

  “I have only just learned to use a crossbow yesterday, Sire, although I had tried my hand at it once or twice before. I am afraid I am not quite as skilled with it yet, as I am with the longbow,” he apologized.

  “Let us see,” the king commanded. Noble got off to a bit of a shaky start with it, but soon was doing just fine—almost as well as with the longbow.

  “Please show me how to use the longbow, Noble!” Prince William begged. “I want to be able to shoot as well as you do someday!”

  The king nodded, so Noble brought the little boy over. “We will start with a short bow,” he said, “for the longbows here are all too big for you.”

  Noble and William worked together for a while until finally the king said, “William, that is enough for today. I am sure Noble will be happy to teach you more another day.”

  “Tomorrow?” William asked eagerly.

  “I am sorry, Your Highness, but tomorrow is the Lord’s Day and your father has promised that I may return to my granny’s cottage for a little visit and to worship with her,” Noble replied.

  The little boy looked disappointed, but his father laughed and ruffled his hair. “We shall be back for another lesson next week, Noble. William must learn some patience, I fear. Enjoy your visit with your grandmother, Noble, and don’t forget to take some goodies back for her from the kitchen. I will have my wife speak to the cook about it.”

  The king and his young son turned and walked away. Noble looked after them and smiled. How wonderful that the Lord had blessed him with such friends as these! He could hardly wait to tell his granny all about it!

  ___________

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  ___________

  Home Again

  Noble left at dawn the next morning with the king’s blacksmith. The blacksmith’s family had a farm just outside the village near Granny’s cottage, and every Lord’s Day he returned home in a wagon. He would return to the castle very early the next morning with the wagon filled with vegetables and grain from his family’s farm. He had invited Noble to ride home with him each week and in return Noble and Fly would bring him something from their hunting trips now and again.

  Granny was watching from the doorway when the wagon pulled up at the gate and Noble jumped down. “Welcome home!” she called eagerly. Noble quickly unloaded the supplies from the castle and waved to the blacksmith as he drove on. He looked around the yard and breathed in deeply. Ah! It was wonderful to be back in the country again, back home again! It had only been a few days since he had left, but it almost seemed a lifetime. So much had happened in such a short time.

  Noble threw his arms around his grandmother and gave her a big hug. Granny led him into the cottage and to the table where she had fixed a good breakfast for him. He talked as he ate about the exciting week he had had and all the good friends he had made. He told her how kind Jamie and the master and Sir Robert had been. He spoke eagerly about being allowed to practice with the knights each day. He mentioned briefly the Mullins brothers, and tried to hide from her the problem he was having with them, but of course, Granny saw right through that and questioned him closely about it, though she kept her thoughts to herself.

  Most of all, though, Noble talked about the king and little Prince William. Granny marveled at the interest King Stephen had taken in her young grandson, and the friendship he was forming with the prince. There was much for which to praise God, and much to pray about, as well.

  They looked through the packages and supplies Noble had brought with him. The queen herself had sent a shawl for granny and a warm blanket. There were fruit and baked goods from the kitchen, as well as some smoked meat and fresh-churned butter. Noble’s concerns about caring for his granny were laid to rest. She would be well provided for each week, it seemed.

  The day passed quickly. They went to the little village church in the morning and then spent the afternoon just talking and laughing together. The one sore spot was that Fly was not with them. Noble could not bring her home each week, but the master of the mews had promised to care for her personally and keep an eye on her.

  Noble’s thoughts were on his peregrine falcon when he climbed into the loft that night to go to bed. He prayed she was safe and that she was not too lonely without him, and then he went to sleep. The blacksmith’s wagon was coming at dawn to take him back to his new life at the castle.

  Several months went by in this manner. Each day was busy, filled with new experiences and friends. His favorite times were those spent with Fly and the knights. Prince William came at least once a week, sometimes with his father and sometimes with a servant, and Noble greatly enjoyed each of those times with the younger boy. The highlight of each week, though, was going back to Granny’s cottage. He missed her during their days apart, and he could see she was lonely and missed him even more. The moments spent together were precious.

  Noble returned to the castle early one Monday morning and ran to the mews. There was no one there. He went first to Fly’s pen, as always, to greet her. What he found there filled him with dismay. The door to Fly’s cage was standing wide open! He ran to the pen. There, on the floor of the mews, huddled Fly. He pulled on his leather glove and reached inside. She stepped onto the glove and he brought her out. To his relief, she seemed to be just fine.

  He looked at the lock on the door of her cage. It was broken. Someone had deliberately opened the pen, in the hope that she would get out and fly away! “You are so smart, Fly!” Noble murmured to the bird. “You knew I’d be back, and you waited right where you belong for me. Good bird! Good Fly!”

  The master walked in just then. “Noble, you’re back! How was your visit with your granny?” He stopped short when he saw the look on Noble’s face.

  “Master! Look!” the boy cried in distress. “I just found Fly’s pen standing wide open and the lock has been broken! Praise God, she was still there and is fine, but someone tried to get her to fly away!”

  The master looked shocked. “Noble, no one has been here this morning, and she was locked up safe and sound last night when I left. Someone must have come in during the night, or very early this morning.” He paused to look at the broken lock. He looked up at Noble, his face st
ern and hard. “I will get a stronger lock, lad, and look into this, I assure you.”

  Noble thanked him. He put Fly back in her pen and tied the door shut for the time being. He looked grim as he went about his work, but when the Mullins brothers came in, he tried to relax the expression on his face and appear as though nothing had happened.

  As usual, they did not speak, but they looked sharply at him and then over at Fly’s cage. Noble was watching when George stiffened in surprise and Frederick’s face turned red at the sight of Fly still peacefully perched in her pen. It was as he suspected. The Mullins brothers were behind this, but he had no way to prove it. Perhaps he would have to take Fly with him whenever he visited Granny, after all, in order to keep her safe.

  Noble was just about to leave for the practice field for another fencing lesson when Jamie ran into the mews. “Guess what, Noble?” he exclaimed loudly. “Guess what? A fair is coming to the town of King’s Crossing next week, and the stable master has said I may have a day off to attend! Cook is allowing some of the younger workers in the kitchen off, as well – Rosie and Charlie, and Hugo and Eleanor, I think. I am sure if you ask the master of the mews, he will give you the day off, too. The fair is wonderful! I have been twice before. It is –“

  “Oh, I could not ask the master, Jamie,” Noble said shaking his head. “I already am allowed time off each day to work with the knights, and I go every Lord’s Day to see my granny. I cannot –“

  The master had heard Jamie’s loud voice and come into the mews to investigate. He heard the stable boy’s announcement and Noble refusing to ask for permission to attend the fair. “Nonsense, my boy!” the master said as he entered the mews. “You shall indeed go to the fair! The king allows the younger workers here in the castle especially to attend the fair at King’s Crossing each year, and this time you shall be one of them!”

  “Thank you, master,” Noble said humbly and bowed. “Everyone here is so good to me.”

  “You work hard at all you do, Noble,” the master said kindly. “You deserve it.”

  Noble had a hard time concentrating on his fencing lesson that day. He had been practicing with the sword for several weeks and was doing well, according to Sir Robert. But today, with all that had happened, his mind was not on the swordplay. He was worried about being away from Fly, and excited about the fair at the same time!

  Sir Robert merely laughed at his distraction. “I understand well, Noble!’ he said. “I was young once myself, you know. Even the younger knights are a bit off today. There will be tournaments at the fair, you know – jousting, fencing and archery. I am sure that in a year or two, when you are old enough, you will be ready to enter the tournaments yourself, lad, but that means for now you must concentrate!”

  __________

  CHAPTER NINE

  __________

  The Empty Pen

  Noble was late getting to the mews the next day. The morning had started off badly. For some reason the boys sleeping above the stables had overslept. It could have been that they stayed up late the night before talking about the upcoming fair and excitedly planning all the wonderful things they hoped to see and do and eat there.

  Dawn had long broken before Noble opened his eyes and realized that something was wrong. He could see Jamie a few feet away, snoring slightly and curled up in a little ball. Normally he could see nothing at all when he woke, for the sun had not yet risen.

  “Jamie!” Noble called urgently. “Charlie! Wake up! We’re late! Get up, Hugo!”

  The other boys jumped up in sleepy confusion, their hair sticking out every which way and their eyes only half-opened. They wasted no time once they realized what had happened. “Cook is not going to be happy!” Hugo groaned as he pulled on his shoes. He and Charlie worked in the kitchen under the heavy rule of Cook, a woman who put up with no nonsense in her little world. She was a good-hearted person, to be sure, but she expected much from her workers, and though they respected her, there was a tiny bit of fear, also, and no desire to get on her bad side.

  Hugo was right. The boys dashed to the kitchen. Cook bellowed as soon as they burst through the door, “Charlie! Hugo! You’re late! No breakfast for you now! Get to work! Charlie, there is butter to be churned. Hugo, I need more firewood. Get going—you’ve wasted enough time already!” Cook turned on Noble and Jamie then. “And as for you two, if you want breakfast you’ll have to make it yourselves. No one here has time now to wait on you. The king’s breakfast must be on time, whether you are or not! Mind you, stay out of the way while you are about it!” With that she stomped off.

  Noble was tempted to go on to the mews without eating. He had never been late before, and although he was sure the master would not be angry, he knew he would be leaving early for the training fields and he did not want to take advantage of the master’s kindness. In the end, though, his stomach won out and he hurried to toast some bread over the fire and drink a cup of milk.

  He raced to the mews at last. Noble’s heart sank when he saw George Mullins leaning against the gate as he ran up. Normally he would get there ahead of the Mullins brothers and be hard at work by the time they arrived. He would ignore their glares, having no wish to stir up bad words between them again. Today he would have liked to say something about their attempt to set Fly free the day before, but he held his tongue and slipped past the older man quickly. George smirked nastily at Noble as he went through the gate, but he said nothing, either.

  Frederick was at the other end of the mews near the weathering yard when Noble entered. He glanced up at the boy, but turned his back without saying a word. The master was nowhere to be seen.

  Noble grabbed a bucket of raw meat and another of water and set about the business of feeding the birds. As usual, he started with the larger birds and worked his way down the row of pens. Screeches and the sound of flapping wings filled the air. The Mullins brothers might not be happy to see him, but the birds certainly were. They eagerly eyed the bucket in his hand.

  At last Noble turned to Fly’s cage. The master had put a new lock on it the day before. Noble fumbled with the key as he peered into the pen. He could not see Fly, but perhaps she was still sleeping in her dark corner. He had overslept himself that morning; she might have done the same. How she could sleep through the racket the other birds were making, though, he did not know.

  “Fly,” he called softly. “I am here at last! Come and eat!”

  There was no movement in the mews. Noble moved further into the pen and looked around. He stretched to look on the high shelf where the falcon often sat, and with his leather gauntlet he reached into the box where she sometimes hid. Nothing. Fly was not there. With his heart in his throat, Noble carefully looked around the bottom of the pen and in every corner. Had she fallen ill? Had she been injured?

  The falcon was not in her mews. The terrible truth dawned on Noble as he stood there for a moment as if he were carved in stone. Fly was gone. He leaped for the door of the pen.

  Frederick was staring at him. Noble glanced toward the gate and saw that George had entered and was watching him, also. “Where is she?” Noble asked. His voice sounded shaky and hoarse. “What have you done to Fly?” Frederick raised his eyebrows but said nothing. George snorted a harsh, cruel laugh and crossed his arms in front of him as if daring Noble to approach him.

  Noble spoke more loudly. “Where—“

  The master of the mews walked in just then and looked in surprise at Noble. He had never heard him raise his voice before. He looked then from one Mullins brother to the other. “Noble, is something wrong?” he asked with a frown. “What happened? Are you alright?”

  Noble could scarcely get the words out. “Fly is gone. She’s not in her pen, Master.”

  “What?” The master looked sharply at George and Frederick. “Where is the falcon?” he asked them. There was a hard look in his eyes.

  “Master, you do us wrong!” George Mullins protested innocently. He shrugged and held his hands out in front of him. �
�How would we know what the boy has done with his bird?”

  “You know I—“ Noble stopped when the master held up his hand.

  “The important thing is to find her, Noble,” the older man said. “Go quickly now and see if you can find Fly. She may still be in the area. Call to her, whistle. Perhaps she will come to you. I will take care of these two while you are gone.”

  Noble wasted no more words. He ran from the mews and out into the courtyard beyond, scanning the sky above. “Fly!” he called, as loudly as he could. “Fly!” There was nothing in the sky. Not a cloud, not a pigeon, not a falcon soaring on the wind. Noble ran over the drawbridge and into the streets of the city. “Fly!” he shouted over and over again. He whistled a loud, piercing whistle, never taking his eyes off the blue patches over his head, but he could see nothing. The city buildings blocked his view.

  Noble stopped for a moment and gazed up into the empty sky. “Fly,” he whispered. Where was she?

  _________

  CHAPTER TEN

  _________

  A Friend in Need

  He had to get out of the city, out to where he could see the sky for miles around. Noble started running once more. Through the streets he ran and out of the city gates to the surrounding fields. He often came out here with Fly and the other birds of prey to hunt for the king’s table. Fly was used to these fields. Perhaps he would find her here.

  Noble tramped through the tall grass and weeds, whistling and calling Fly by name, never taking his eyes off the sky. He could not believe Fly would leave of her own free will. She had stayed in her pen the day before, hadn’t she, when they had merely opened the door to her pen. They must have driven her out this time. Fly would never leave him, would she?