The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon (8 page)

“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 the 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.

*************

Word that Fallon was to be the next Steward of Reed had finally reached his aunt and uncle. They paid him a visit the following Heptaday, bringing a picnic basket for lunch. They sat on the hillside by Steward Isaiah’s home overlooking the Village Square, eating bread and cheese and some wild strawberries that Uncle Charles received as a gift from one of his customers. The conversation was awkward at best – they had never been particularly close – and while Fallon was grateful to have family around, it was bittersweet. Spending time with his aunt and uncle only served to remind him of how much he missed his father, Zeke, Elizabeth, Jonas and Talia.

After they said their good-byes, Fallon decided to return to the study. He had come across an interesting book on the history of farming in Reed; it even mentioned Littlebrook as being renowned for its cereal grains. Part of the book discussed the history of famines in Reed and how the effects of those famines had been diminished by the current system of having the village (i.e., Council of Elders) engage in the purchase and storage of surplus foodstuffs from local farmers in the event of a long winter or poor spring crop. This was made possible through the advent of taxes, which to this day is an unhappy subject for many Reedites. In any case, the surplus food is stored in various granaries and barns scattered throughout the village, and workers are employed to help prevent the food from spoiling before its time and to dispose of any food that happens to spoil in spite of their efforts.

Before long the ten o’clock bell sounded and Beatrice was pushing Fallon off to bed. “You must rest or else you shall never remember what it is you have just learned,” she said.

Fallon fell into a fitful sleep that night. It would be the first time he had one of his “dreams.” In this dream he was standing with Steward Isaiah in front of a little green and white barn. Isaiah was beckoning him inside, but once inside Fallon found himself actually standing outside Steward Isaiah’s house on the hillside. Night had fallen and in the distance he could see little balls of fire coming closer and closer to him. He called out for the Steward but no one answered. He was all alone. He ran inside the house and found himself standing next to Isaiah again, but they were no longer in the house. The walls had been replaced by men in dark capes riding horses around them, shouting and laughing and making nonsensical sounds as the Steward and Fallon stood frozen in fear. The horsemen rode faster and faster until they turned into a ring of fire surrounding both Isaiah and Fallon. They were trapped!

Fallon awoke in a sweat and the dream went no further. He went to the wash basin and threw water on his face. His heart was still pounding, filling up the silence of his room. He could tell from the darkness around him that morning was still many hours away, but he was afraid to fall back asleep; he did not want the dream to come back. He stayed awake staring out the window for as long as he could, but eventually Fallon’s eyes grew heavy and he could not resist the temptation to fall asleep any longer.

If he had any more dreams that night, he did not remember them the next morning, though he could not forget the ring of fire – no matter how much he tried.

*************

Wendell had never been on a boat before, and by the looks of it, neither had Lord Cephas. The unsteady rocking motion had finally taken a toll on the servant and he ran for the side of the boat, emptying the contents of his stomach into the turbulent waters of the West Samora Sea.

Lord Cephas had seen all of this but said nothing. He closed his eyes and did not open them again until the boat, and the rocking, finally stopped.

“We shall make our way on horseback to the forest,” Lord Cephas said once his feet were back on dry land again.

Wendell knew a riverboat would be faster, but he was relieved by the Lord’s decision. “Aye, my lord. I shall fetch the horses.”

*************

Early one afternoon, Steward Isaiah asked Fallon to join him as he traveled to Elder Jacob’s flat so he might borrow a book he needed for the next day’s lesson. The Elder had been somewhat reluctant to leave his flat these days given the state of his wife Bessa. She did not remember things the way she used to and she became confused quite easily. Fortunately, Steward Isaiah did not mind making the trip to Elder Jacob’s home. The Elder’s flat was above the main bakery in the Village Square, and that bakery happened to sell the Steward’s favorite pastries. Fallon was happy to join the Steward. He had yet to fully explore the Village Square and he had grown tired of being trapped in Isaiah’s house, given the recent rains.

Fallon had always been impressed with the size of Steward Isaiah’s library, but that was nothing compared to Elder Jacob’s. Fallon had never seen so many books in his life! The old man was kind and allowed Fallon to look through some books while he chatted with Isaiah. An hour had probably passed, but to Fallon it felt like mere minutes before the Steward mentioned he was ready to leave, his borrowed book in hand.

After a quick stop at the bakery, they were headed back to Isaiah’s house. “Let us take the scenic route home,” suggested the Steward as he turned down a back alley behind Elder Jacob’s flat. Apparently this was the way to a little road that skirted the edge of the Village Square, with the start of farms and orchards on the hilly side and various stone buildings on the other. It added twenty minutes to their walk, but Fallon did not mind. He was enjoying the fresh air. He had been thinking about swords (Steward Isaiah had mentioned that Fallon would be expected to make his own soon) when he first saw it – the green and white barn. The sight of the barn from his dream brought him to a complete standstill.

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