She shook her head, tears glazing her eyes. “Just – just come with me.” She put her hand on his shoulder and guided him out of the room and to Marcus’ office.
Marcus was lying in his bed with the healer standing over him. Marcus was paler than he was earlier, with dark exhausted eyes and his whole appearance radiated a complete lack of strength. When he saw Hyroc entering the room with June, he dismissed the healer. The man had a gloomy resigned look in his eyes as he left. Marcus motioned for Hyroc to come closer and Hyroc did so without hesitation.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” Marcus said in a frighteningly weak gravelly voice. “Hyroc, I’m very sick.” A knot formed in Hyroc’s stomach at the words and he felt the chill of dread run across his body.
“But you’re going to be all right?” Hyroc said tentatively.
Marcus shrugged. “I wish I could say that; I’m dying.” Marcus began coughing.
“Don’t say that,” Hyroc pleaded, tears starting to run down his face, darkening the fur below his eyes. “The healer said you were getting better and your fever had gone down and – and – and that we could go duck hunting next week.”
“Healers don’t always know what will happen. He truly thought I was going to be fine and did everything in his power to ensure that. But when a man’s end draws near he can feel it and I feel mine approaching. I’m sorry I have to leave you.” He coughed as he finished speaking.
“I don’t want you to leave. You have to stay, I want you to stay. Please, stay.”
“Hyroc I wish more than anything in the world that I could have more time with you. But I’m afraid fate has decided against my wishes.”
“No, don’t say that.”
“June’s going to take good care of you. You may not have been of my blood, but I still loved you as a son. Hold out your necklace.” With a sniffle, Hyroc slowly pulled off his necklace. His body didn’t seem to want to move. “Look at the back of the medallion.” Hyroc turned the medallion over. Intricately etched into the metal was the name Foxclaw above a badger, a fox and a claw symbol. “From what I’ve been able to figure, that is your true family’s name, Foxclaw. From now on I want you to use it as your last name instead of Burk, my last name.” Hyroc somberly nodded his agreement then slipped the necklace back around his neck.
“Others may fear you, but never let their fear drive you into despair or hatred. Constantly strive to show them their fear is needless. Never forget only you can decide if you are good or if you are evil no matter what others say or how they treat you. You are the master of your own fate. One day you will find the answers I was unable to give you.” Marcus lifted his hand and wiped away the tears running down Hyroc’s face. “I deeply cherished every moment I spent with you. I would have very much liked to have seen you grow up as would have your mother.” Marcus smiled. “She loved you more than life itself.” A deep sadness seeped into his expression. It was an expression of regret. Regret at not doing more and trying harder to find answers. “I’m so sorry I didn’t do more.” Tears began welling up in Marcus’ eyes. “There were so many things I should have done and I regret not having done them. I hope you can forgive me for that one day.”
Hyroc gave him a sad smile. There wasn’t anything to forgive. He knew Marcus was trying. “You took me duck hunting.”
Marcus smiled weakly as his eyes began to close. “And a fine hunter you became. There is always light in the dark.” Marcus’ eyes closed. His chest rose and fell with one final ragged breath.
A torrent of hot tears began pouring out of the corners of Hyroc’s eyes. “No,” Hyroc cried out, burying his head in the bed blanket. “No.” He felt June’s hand settle on his shoulder.
“He’s gone,” she said in a sorrowful but gentle tone.
“No.” Hyroc cried out turning and burying his head into the folds of her dress. June held him, trying her best to sooth him, but there was no comfort to be had. Hyroc knew he was now more alone than he had ever been.
CHAPTER 8
Forlorn
Hyroc watched indifferently as the procession of students, teachers and large numbers of people he had never met, move across the lawn of Marcus’ home toward the gravesite. Gray clouds pockmarked by openings letting through small amounts of sunlight, drifted slowly overhead. A light cool wind stirred the leaves of the surrounding trees in erratic spurts, giving the air an unwelcomed chill. Hyroc barely even noticed; every part of him had felt cold ever since…ever since he had gone into that room. He thrust his thoughts from the memory. He couldn’t bear to even think about it.
June was at his side wearing a solid black dress and a dark veil over her face. The two of them stood behind the open coffin containing Marcus’ body. Marcus lay within with his arms neatly folded across his chest. He was dressed in an immaculate dark green and white robe bearing the embroidering of the raven that signified The Ministry. His eyes were closed and his face bore a serene expression. Whenever Hyroc looked at him, for the briefest of moments he could think Marcus was sleeping, but then the harsh reality would quickly crush his spirit back down.
Hyroc stiffened, drawing closer to June when he saw several ministry officials approaching the grave. They were garbed in robes colored in their customary red and black.
“It’s all right,” June said in a reassuring whisper. “There’s nothing to worry about; I wouldn’t let them take you. You’re safe.”
The officials reverently studied Marcus’ lifeless face, showing subtle amounts of sadness on their expressions. Their eyes slowly drifted up until they were staring at Hyroc. Most of their number only looked at him with a passing interest, but one or two of them watched him in frightening and very disconcerting manners. After what felt like an eternity under their hostile gazes, the group stepped off to the side, allowing others to pay their respects. The other attendees stared at Hyroc showing mixtures of curiosity, fear and disgust. Thankfully, the majority were people who had seen him on a regular basis and excluding Thomas, only occasionally gave him an uncomfortable glance.
Two men approached the coffin and carefully secured the lid on top of it, then they began lowering it into the grave. Cold dread washed over Hyroc as it slid out of view into the darkness. Deep down he knew Marcus was gone, but he kept the thought at the back of his mind in the hopes that denying it would prevent it from becoming a reality. Now Marcus’ death was final and inescapable. There would be no more duck hunts; only an empty void nothing could fill. Hyroc’s eyes burned as tears rolled out of them. June’s hand came to rest comfortingly on his shoulder. He leaned into her arm as she began leading him away.
“It is unfortunate,” a harsh man’s voice said from behind. The two of them paused and turned to face the speaker. A bolt of fear shot through Hyroc as he recognized the man as Keller. Hyroc knew from the story Marcus had told him when he was younger, Keller was the man who had tried to take him away and would have killed him.
“One such as he could have fallen so far,” Keller continued, shaking his head as he gazed toward Marcus’ tombstone. “He did so much good once. But his is the fate of all who fall from the light to embrace darkness.” He turned to face them, affixing Hyroc with a dangerous gaze. Hyroc sidled behind June, never taking his eyes off Keller. He had never been so thankful for her presence.
“You are not welcome here,” June said in a threatening tone. “Leave!”
“As you wish.” June reached behind her and held Hyroc protectively as Keller passed. He paused a few paces from them. “Without his blind commitment and cunning mind, it is only a matter of time before that thing by your side is just another forgotten memory. It may take me years still, but mark my words, I will eventually make others see what I see. And on that day there will be no place where you can hide that aberration.” With that, he headed off. June held Hyroc’s shoulder, never taking her eyes off Keller until the man disappeared from sight.
“Don’t let what he said frighten you,” she said, looking down at Hyroc with caring eyes. “I might not be as
good with words or laws as my brother, but I won’t let that man hurt you. Marcus had friends who respected him and they won’t soon forget their loyalty to him or me, even if they didn’t always agree with him.” She reached down and wiped the tears from Hyroc’s eyes. “Now, why don’t we head inside and see what food everyone brought.” Hyroc nodded somberly and the two of them made their way inside the house.
They passed empty stagecoaches, with their drivers milling around silently and staring dumbstruck at Hyroc when they spotted him. Taking notice of their unblinking eyes, June hurried Hyroc to the front door. Stepping through the threshold, Hyroc found the living room full of people. As June pulled the door closed behind them, several of the attendees made their way over to the two of them. They offered their heartfelt condolences to June, but they spoke without seeming to take any notice of Hyroc. His eyes began to fill with tears as they did so. He didn’t understand why their behavior stung him so much suddenly. He had grown to expect such behaviors and had even learned to ignore them. Why should they bother him now?
“Hyroc,” June said gently, her expression showing hints of frustration, frustration directed at her guests. For some reason her frustration melted away some of his sadness. It made him feel better to see someone unhappy with how he was being treated. “Why don’t you head into the kitchen to get yourself something to eat? Okay.”
Blinking away his tears, Hyroc nodded and walked into the kitchen. On the table and lining the counters, he found cheese wheels, fresh bread, different types of cooked or smoked meat and kippers, pastries with either jam or cream oozing out of them, and a cake. He slid a wedge of cheese onto his plate, then some of the meat, a cream filled pastry and a piece of the cake. With no room to sit at the table, he stepped out the back door. Outside he found a group of three women talking quietly as they ate. Their conversation stopped abruptly as they took notice of him and they began staring intently at him. Repressing another wave of tears, he went back into the kitchen. All he wanted to do now was be alone; he didn’t want to be around these strangers anymore. He didn’t want to feel their eyes on him. He hurried through the numerous watching eyes and up the stairs to his room, glad to see the hall there empty.
Closing the door tightly behind him, he made his way over to the window overlooking the garden and sat, before taking a bite of the cheese wedge on his plate. His mood lightened a little as he did so, but the sadness of the day prevented him from feeling much at all. Without Marcus, nothing would ever be the same. Tears began streaming out of his eyes and his breathes shuddered with sorrow. He didn’t want it to be true. With all his strength, he wished it to be false, though he knew what the truth was and there was nothing he could do to change it no matter how much he wanted to. He was alone.
A knock came at his room door, slightly pulling him away from his pain. He was silent a long moment before he mustered the strength to answer. “Go away,” he said sharply in a strangled voice.
“It’s Thomas,” Thomas said, his voice muffled.
Hyroc wiped his eyes on his sleeve. He didn’t want his friend to go away. “C – come in.”
Thomas stepped into the room holding a half-eaten pastry with its jelly filled innards exposed. “These are delicious,” Thomas said, holding up the pastry. Hyroc nodded absentmindedly and returned to looking out the window. Thomas sat down beside him. “You doing okay?” Thinking that an odd question to ask on such a dark day, he responded with a sigh. “I didn’t know him as well as you did, but he seemed like a good person.” Hyroc nodded appreciatively. There was a pause. “There’s something I wanted to show you.” Thomas stuck the remainder of the pastry into his mouth and reaching in his pocket; removed a small polished stone with a greenish tint to its surface. Etched into the center on one side was a symbol Hyroc didn’t recognize. Thomas handed it to Hyroc. Accepting the stone, Hyroc ran his thumb across its cool smooth surface.
“That symbol in the middle, it stands for courage. After what I saw you do with those dogs, I thought you would like it.”
Hyroc gave him a gladdened look. “You got this for me?” Thomas nodded. “It’s – it’s really nice.”
“I don’t think I could ever be brave like you.”
“Don’t say that, you’re not a coward.”
Thomas shrugged. “I got scared and ran off and you had to save me. I’m a coward.”
“I run all the time and hide in trees. So, if you’re a coward then I am too. And a coward wouldn’t have smacked that dog in the head. You’re not a coward. Besides, you were brave enough to come and talk with me.” Thomas smiled thankfully.
“Be careful with that!” June snapped. Her anger was directed at two men who carried the last remaining cabinet from Marcus’ office. “That’s made from oak and it’s a family heirloom over a hundred years old.” The men nodded their apologies, then in a more cautious manner continued on their way.
Hyroc turned his attention back to the bookshelf June had instructed him to empty, grabbed a book and placed it in a waiting box at his feet. It had now been two long days since the funeral. The bite of Marcus’ death had diminished somewhat, allowing him to again glean some small amounts of enjoyment out of his days. Even so, the loss of Marcus still haunted his every thought, preventing him from escaping the cold emptiness of sorrow for long. He and June were now clearing out Marcus’ office in preparation for the new headmaster, who was scheduled to arrive in a week’s time, at which point the school would resume. Hyroc was hardly ready to continue with his studies, but it seemed he had little choice.
“When you’re done over there,” June said. “Go ahead and get the blankets off the bed in the other room.”
Hyroc nodded. He finished with the last book a moment later and headed into the sleeping quarter, hesitating briefly at the door. He slid the pillows onto the floor, and carefully began removing the covers from the bed. As he finished rolling them up, he noticed the two boxes containing Marcus and his hunting bows. Kneeling, Hyroc pulled out the smallest box and opened it, revealing his own bow. A single tear rolled out of his eye as the memory of his first hunting trip flashed into his mind. It still felt like those trips had only happened days ago. Before all happiness had been drained from him. He didn’t expect to ever be happy again. Wiping away the tear, he closed the box, rose to his feet and continued working on the bed.
It was well past midday by the time the two of them had finished with the room. Hyroc stopped at the door to look back into the now bare room feeling a pang of sadness. He had had many good memories in this room, but now darkened and devoid of all of its familiar decorations, it felt like those things had happened in another place far away. Memories like those would never again happen to him in this room. He lingered at the door a long moment before turning and leaving.
A week later, June woke Hyroc earlier than he had ever been on a school day. He groggily got ready, then he and June headed out into the cool darkness, illuminated only by the rising dome of the sun on the horizon. At the dining hall, a tall man with black hair and a graying beard of the same color stepped up to the podium. He introduced himself as the new headmaster and briefly laid out his vision for the school, which seemed to Hyroc as the exact things Marcus had been doing, just worded differently.
As Hyroc followed the throng of students heading off to their classes, one of the prefects informed him the headmaster needed to see him. Disconcerted by the new headmaster summoning him when he hadn’t done anything, Hyroc made his way to the headmaster’s office. He was surprised by the change the room had undergone. Adorning the walls, he found numerous paintings depicting scenes of men in battle armor fighting hideous shadow demons wreathed in clouds of darkness. A chill ran down Hyroc’s back when he saw the painting of a silver raven perched on a scythe atop a stony precipice, overlooking a field surrounded by rolling hills. Several new immaculately polished cabinets, with still bare shelves had been moved into the room. An orange rug with yellow embroidery in the shape of wheat stalks along its edges ran from t
he door all the way to the desk at the window.
The headmaster stood left of the window putting books on a bookshelf. When Hyroc closed the door behind him, the headmaster turned to face him. He pointed at the chairs in front of the desk. “Have a seat,” he said. Hyroc sat. “You’re probably wondering why I asked to see you,” the headmaster said, seating himself at his desk. He interlaced his fingers and affixed a piercing gaze upon Hyroc. “There are a few things I need to make clear to you. I’ve heard concerns expressed about your presence here, but to be frank, if you were a danger to the students I wouldn’t expect that my predecessor would have allowed you to be here in the first place. And as such I see no reason to change this. But keep in mind, unlike my predecessor, I have no binding agreement to keep you here and if you should do anything to make me think you are a threat to the other students, you will be gone without question and in whatever manner deemed necessary. Is this understood?”
“Yes headmaster,” Hyroc said.
“Good. And do not make the mistake of thinking just because my predecessor was also your parent you will be afforded any special privileges. To me you are just another student and you’ll be treated as such –” the headmaster’s eyes flickered intentionally to the paddle resting against the leg of his desk “– even in punishment.” He paused, letting his words sink in. “You will be housed in a dorm like the rest of the students.” The headmaster paused, thinking a moment. “Has everything been understood?”
“Yes headmaster.”
“I hope indeed it has. That will be all then. You may go.” Hyroc stood and eagerly made his way out the door.
After dinner, a teacher led Hyroc to one of the student dorms and left him at the door holding a pillow stacked on top of a blanket. He felt a surge of apprehension as he stared at the closed door. He had never spent a night with so many people around him. And it disturbed him to even think about it. He liked being alone at night, not crammed into a room like dead fish in a barrel. He wasn’t going to like this. But he had to do it anyway. Gathering his courage, he pushed through the door.
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