The Wings of a Falcon
The people of Yaegar’s land were at least boisterous. Yaegar’s great house had been built out of wood from the forests, and as they rode up before it, its doors and windows were flung open, and servants rushed out to take the horses from them, and more servants rushed out to demand that the riders follow them into the house, where the steward clapped Tintage on the back and laughed into his ear, and offered great cups of ale to all of the riders.
Tintage drank his down, and the servants cheered him, and he ordered them to fill his cup again. “I welcome you to my father’s house,” he said to the company, “which belongs to three brothers before it comes to me. It is mine insofar as they give me permission to inhabit it. I call them Mumbo, Jumbo, and Gumbo. They are giants of men, and they take the one brain they have between them around in a box. No, you laugh, but I speak truly. My father dotes on them. For no one else in his whole broad demesne can down a tankard of ale as rapidly as Yaegar, or any of his three older sons. They are great men, those four.” Tintage downed his second cup of ale, and clapped the steward on the shoulder.
Lord Haldern, Oriel noted, stood at the rear of the company, although he must be—Oriel thought—eager to see the lady. Oriel was eager and impatient for the lady Merlis and he had never even seen her, much less courted and won and given her up years ago.
The horsemen were taken to a large hall filled with sleeping couches, and bade to table with Yaegar. The steward told Lord Haldern that Yaegar regretted that their stay must be so short. Yaegar had their tax purse ready for them, and he remembered Haldern well from years earlier, the steward told them.
“Take care,” Tintage warned Haldern. “I wouldn’t trust the man, and especially when he seems to show goodwill.”
“I’ll deal courteously with him, since he has spoken courteously to me,” Lord Haldern answered, “and since moreover he has in his giving that which I desire.”
“All the more reason not to trust his words, however courteous,” Tintage said, filling the air with flourishes of his hand as he mocked a courtier’s bow to Haldern. “Since he doesn’t fear you. I think I’d be a contented man if my father feared me.
Tintage stood still, as if listening to his own words. “Or,” he added, “if I had no father. Are you contented, Oriel?” he asked.
Oriel thought perhaps he was. “But don’t think it’s because I have no father,” he said. “The father has nothing to do with it.”
“I wouldn’t let Yaegar hear you saying that. He’d clout you all the way into tomorrow, and then he’d stomp on you when you landed.”
Oriel laughed. But he was curious about Yaegar, and watched for him when they were led into the dining hall. Lord Haldern and Lilos and Garder were seated at a long table with Yaegar and his three older sons, and so was Oriel, which honor did not escape him. The rest of their party was scattered among the lords and ladies, stewards and squires and their wives and sons and daughters. Food was plentiful, platters of roast meats, plates of pastry, rounds of bread. Their wine goblets were kept well filled. Yaegar ate in great devouring bites. He let his three sons lead the conversation, to speak of the hunting season and the births among the hounds and the births among the horses, to speak of the amount brought in by taxes. Theirs was the only table at which no women sat.
When mention was made of the Tourney, Yaegar at last looked up from his plate, and seemed surprised to see he had guests. Yaegar was a thick man, thick necked, thick shouldered, his head set as square as a rock. His great hand wrapped around the dagger he used to cut off chunks of meat. “I’ve a son in this Tourney,” Yaegar said. “Don’t I? Yes, I see him here, across the room—Look, boys, it’s our dancing master. Stand up, Tintage, and let me see if you’ve grown to any size yet. Welcome home,” Yaegar said, mocking.
Tintage rose, to bow in mockery.
“No, you’re still a wee mite, just like your mother. She was a fair dancer, too—Do you remember her pretty ways, boys?”
The three looked away at this public shaming of their brother.
Yaegar had no such soft feelings. “You made us a promise, Dancing Master,” he said. “You promised us you wouldn’t be back until you had the Earldom, and we would all bow down to you. Or until you were dead,” Yaegar said. Tintage alone stood, his moleskin eyes helpless and angry. “You break your word now, too. That leaves you honorless, doesn’t it?”
Tintage for once had nothing to say.
Yaegar laughed out loud. “But you know I’d never have let you enter the contest if there was any danger that you’d win. The rest of you,” and his eyes rested on Oriel, “you’ve nothing to fear from Tintage. If I hadn’t thought he’d be outmanned at every chance, I’d have tossed him into my dungeons, and kept him there. Can you imagine? If this dancing master were my Earl?”
He ripped off a chunk of bread, and chewed it, and washed it down with a long drink of wine. Then he noticed Tintage. “Sit down, nobody told you to keep on standing there,” he said. He turned to Haldern to ask, “You can tell whoever becomes the Earl that my forests are full of outlaws and he’d better come here first when he rides to restore order into the south. Will you carry this message? You were a reliable messenger, if I remember correctly.”
“You remember correctly,” Lord Haldern said, expressionless.
“But wait.” Yaegar slapped at his forehead. “Didn’t I hear that you were a contender? But aren’t you old for the contest, and if you win, old for the lady?”
“We won’t ever know that,” Haldern answered, with apparent unconcern for Yaegar’s barbs. “I have chosen to back Oriel, and that is now the extent of my part in the Tourney.”
Then Yaegar turned his attention to Oriel, as if this were all news to him—which Oriel doubted. The dark eyes glittered. Oriel knew that he was expected to feel fear, and that he was expected to be all the more courteous to Yaegar, because of his fear of the man, and because of his ambition to be Earl over Yaegar.
Oriel didn’t think he cared to do what was expected.
“Why does he back you?” Yaegar asked Oriel.
“Perhaps I’m the best man,” Oriel answered carelessly, and went on with the much more interesting activity of eating a fowl’s leg.
Yaegar thought about that. “You can’t help but be better than Tintage,” he said. “But I wonder why Haldern gives up his own hopes, for your advantage. What are you, some by-blow of the Earl’s? Did one of his whores manage to smuggle her child into some lord’s house and have you brought up as an imitation lord? What are you, a bastard heir?”
“What I am, I have no idea,” Oriel said. “I only know who I am.” He chose to say no more.
Yaegar couldn’t stay silent long. “Can you fight?”
“Yes.”
“You’re not too dainty for it?”
“No.”
“You’ve a fine face on you, a little too dainty looking for rough work, Oriel,” Yaegar insisted.
Oriel looked into the hard black eyes, and a smile was his only response. He didn’t fear this man.
Lord Yaegar smiled back at him. “Yes, I see what you mean, Haldern,” Yaegar said then. “I see it indeed. I’d wish you luck, Oriel, if it didn’t mean offending these two nobly born lords.”
Again, Oriel answered with a smile, but this time because he couldn’t think of any response that wouldn’t offend Lilos and Wardel, without at the same time belittling himself to Yaegar. Yaegar was not a man he would want to belittle himself before.
But Yaegar, he reminded himself, kept order in his lands, protecting his people; and he also saw to it that his people paid their taxes, to him and to the Earl. Other southern lords had neglected the Earl’s share, especially in these Earl-less times.
Haldern put down his knife, put down his goblet, cleared his throat. “I’m sorry the lady Rafella isn’t dining with us,” he said.
Yaegar’s smile was like the hunter, when his dog has flushed an easy target. “That’s right. I forgot. You and my sister have an unhappy history. You must wonde
r where she might be, and if she might prefer to avoid you. Unlike you, Rafella never wed.”
Haldern said, “I am once again free to marry.”
“I’ll be sure to tell Rafella, when next I see her,” Yaegar said, and turned his shoulder to Haldern to ask Lilos, “And how is that estimable woman, your mother?”
Fury flamed up into Haldern’s cheeks.
Before Haldern could offer offense, Oriel said, “I would like to be introduced to this lady, who has been so long remembered.”
Haldern wasn’t pleased to have Oriel interfere, but Oriel went on regardless. “Can you summon her? Or does she follow only her own wishes?” Oriel asked Yaegar.
“It’s my wishes govern her,” Yaegar said. “As they always have, even when suitors came sniffing like foxes to a henhouse, thinking if they got the hen they’d also get the house.”
“That’s good news,” Oriel said cheerily, “for it means that I can have the pleasure of the lady’s acquaintance. Unless you will refuse me that honor?”
Yaegar no longer had the choice to refuse, and he knew it. He gave the order. Lilos—no stranger to courtly machinations—chose that time to present his father’s greetings to Yaegar, and to bring out a golden plate that the King had caused to be sent to this mighty lord, whose lands prospered even in these times. Lilos presented the plate with many fine words. Yaegar had to respond with the formal words of honor for the King, and respect to the King’s son, and pleasure in the King’s gift.
During this time a small woman with fading red hair entered the hall. Oriel was watching for her. She had not, apparently, been warned of visitors, for her hand went to her throat in alarm when she saw Lord Haldern at her brother’s table. She seemed altogether small and quiet and pleasing, and her eyes filled with tears to see the King’s Captain.
She moved to her brother’s side.
The ceremonies of the King’s presentation completed, Oriel was introduced to the lady, as he had requested. He rose, to bow over her hand, and she spoke his name in a voice as soft and deep as the moving of water around boulders at the sea’s edges. “I think you have an old acquaintance with Lord Haldern,” Oriel said, and led the lady to where, now, Haldern rose to give her greeting.
“It has been many years, Captain,” the lady said.
“They have been kind to you, lady,” Haldern answered.
“Oh ho! In your presence, the soldier turns courtier, sister,” Yaegar said. “His wife must have polished his manners. But she’s dead, as I heard, years ago. Do you wonder if he’s finally coming back to you? I would, if I were you. Are you hopeful, sister?”
Haldern’s temper rose again. “I have come for that purpose. I do ask that honor, if you will grant it to me,” he said to Yaegar.
Yaegar answered lazily. “You got the granting from my father years ago, if you remember, but she had no dowry. You remember that. For which reason you left her and wed another. As did all her other suitors, so it isn’t any particular shame to you to have done so. She has no dowry still,” Yaegar said.
“I ask no dowry,” Haldern answered.
A brief buzz of conversation went around the listening room, as if a single bee had flown in the windows.
“He has you now, Father,” Tintage’s mocking voice called.
Tintage would ruin it, if he wasn’t careful, Oriel thought. He tried to catch Tintage’s eye, to warn him.
“She’ll be taken from you after all,” Tintage crowed. “And who will keep your house for you then?” His laughter bubbled up and he turned to the woman seated beside him, to share the joke.
“Rafella has nothing,” Yaegar warned Haldern. “She has nothing of her own. Everything she has belongs to me, pillion and pillow, horse, jewels, the shirt she sleeps in, bed and bedclothes, all are mine. So if you would still have her, Captain, you take her naked. Now and naked . . . unless you change your mind again, and ride away again, for which no man of sense would blame you.”
Yaegar was counting on the lady’s shame and enjoying her humiliation. Haldern could say nothing without risking her further.
Silence hung over the room like a sword, until Yaegar’s eyes shone with victorious laughter, and he raised his right hand to wave his sister away. But Oriel walked around to stand beside the lady, and the sound of his steps rang out in the silence.
“I have a cloak to cover you, lady,” Oriel said. “I have boots, to protect your feet from the rough ground. I have a shirt, soft enough to wear against your skin. For I think Lord Haldern will welcome you as wife in any garments.”
“Yes, and with all my heart,” Haldern said.
Oriel wrapped his cloak around the lady, who was no taller than his shoulder. The cloak covered her entirely. He lifted his green shirt over his head and then he sat to pull off his boots. As her dress rustled to the floor beneath the cloak, Yaegar spoke.
“I haven’t granted my permission,” Yaegar said.
Rafella looked to Haldern, hope already fading from her eyes.
“I think you have.” Oriel faced the thick-shouldered man. “I think you said that she could take nothing of yours with her. That means that if she takes nothing, she can go. That is the granting.”
“I didn’t intend that. I deny it. Who would contest me?” Lord Yaegar rose from the table.
“I would,” Oriel answered. He was naked but for the trousers and his sword. But he didn’t feel naked. He felt clothed in the quickness of his youth, and in the skill of his arm with the long sword. He felt armored against this man and he felt almost eager at the chance to bring Lord Yaegar to his knees. What he didn’t feel was in any way afraid. “I would contest you and I would say that you have not given your word with honor.”
“As will I,” said Lilos, moving to stand at Oriel’s side.
“And I.” Wardel joined them, then, along with Garder and Verilan—who would be the best ally if it came to a fracas.
Lord Yaegar watched, and then he took his hand from the sword hilt, and then he sat down and then laughed aloud. That would be the only sign of Yaegar’s concession, the laughter.
Then Tintage arrived from across the hall to stand with them.
“Last, always last,” his father observed. He pushed his wine away. “You’ve got what you came for, Haldern. By which I mean the coins. If you choose to take Rafella with you, then you can have her—I’ll give her in exchange for taking this—dancing master. Now what are you waiting for? Don’t you have more errands to run for the King, Haldern? In some other place? For I’ve had enough of you. Go now.”
They left the hall, with the lady walking in their midst like a prisoner under guard, for safety. Oriel went last and he turned at the doorway to look back at Lord Yaegar. Yaegar rose to his feet and raised a hand in salute. Oriel would have chosen to make no response, but Yaegar was a man the Earl could depend on, at his southern borders, if the Earl was strong enough to master him. Oriel raised his own hand in answer to Lord Yaegar, who had saluted him as if he were already Earl Sutherland.
THEY RODE BACK TO THE King’s city across the long summer days. Their route followed the River Way and they splashed the dust of the day’s travel off in the river each evening. Lord Haldern had hired two girls to serve his lady, from the first village they had come to after leaving Yaegar’s city; Rafella rode beside her betrothed during the day, and slept nights beside her serving maids.
Now that the time of the Tourney drew closer, Oriel felt that he must meet Merlis. Why that desire should become so urgent now, as the slow summer twilight left a purple world behind it, and bats swooped down to take the humming insects from the air, Oriel didn’t know. He just felt his ignorance of the lady like iron chains at his ankles, holding him down.
The others had all known her from childhood, except for Tintage. They all, except for Tintage, found her surpassingly excellent. “She’s pretty enough,” Tintage said, “she’s prettier than most, and I’ve never danced with any lady more easy on her feet. Merlis would dance all day and all the night,
too, if she could. She’s proud, and many might find her cold, but I never have. I’ve heard from others that she seldom smiles and almost never laughs, but they don’t know her as I do. Perhaps. She is no more vain than any other woman, but that is vain enough. Would I find her so very desirable, I wonder, if she didn’t wear the Earldom on her finger?” he asked. He looked around at the firelit faces. “Would any of us?” he asked.
The others murmured some response, neither disagreeing nor agreeing. Only Oriel could say with perfect honesty that he couldn’t say, never having even laid eyes on the lady.
“And there are many other ladies at the courts who will be glad to see Lady Merlis married to her Earl. Many of them fair ladies, as we know,” Tintage said.
“You are a dancer,” Garder said. “If you watch Tintage among the ladies, Oriel, you will learn much about how to please them. They flock around him like flies to honey.”
“Oh,” responded Tintage, laughing, “say flies to the spider’s web. I think I am more bitter than sweet.”
Lord Haldern promised Oriel many days during which entertainments and feasts would be given, many nights for dance and music to celebrate the Tourney. Lady Merlis would be there, and Oriel would meet her, and dine at her side, and dance with her.
Riding homewards, with Rafella as their common charge, the troop seemed a band of comrades rather than opponents, each of whom must seek to defeat all the others in a day not far ahead. But Oriel, who knew his own desire to defeat each of the others and take the prize to himself, assumed that the same desire was in each heart. But none, Oriel thought, had a measure of desire to equal his own. None knew what it was to have and lose everything, then have and lose it again, and now find the better chance within your grasp.