Flight of the Night Hawks. Raymond E. Feist
finished Ellie.
‘So, best sooner than later,’ said Marie as she motioned for Ellie to follow her back into the house. They entered a large, single-roomed building, with just enough room for a hearth, a table, and bedding for three. Once inside she said, ‘The boys are your best friends, though they don’t realize it right now. Each thinks himself in love with you, but that’s born from competition rather than for any serious reason I can see.’
Ellie nodded. ‘I do love them, but like brothers. Besides, even if I wished to marry one of them, father –’
‘I know. Your father is the wealthiest shipper in Stardock Town and Grame’s pa is the only miller, so it’s a natural match.’
‘I do love Grame,’ said Ellie. ‘At least enough to live with him.’
‘Love is not the simple romance that the tales make it out to be,’ cautioned Marie. ‘Tad’s father was a good enough man, but we had our moments. Zane’s pa treated his mother well enough, though he had a sore temper when he drank. Marriage is mostly about taking the good and the bad together, Ellie. Zane’s ma loved her family no matter what trouble they brought and, as she was my best friend, it was natural to take Zane in when they died.’ She put out her hand and gently gripped Ellie’s arm. ‘As I would have taken you in, had your pa not survived.’
Zane’s parents and Ellie’s mother had died during the last troll raid in the region. The bloody attack had cost the lives of dozens of townspeople before the magicians across the water had reacted and driven the monsters away.
‘I know, Marie,’ said the girl. ‘You’ve been like a ma to me for most of my life. I mean, I do remember my ma, at least bits about her, like her voice and the way she’d hum melodies while she cooked and I played on the floor. I remember her holding me.’ Ellie’s eyes became distant for a moment, then she looked back at Marie. ‘But in truth, you’re the only ma I’ve really had.’ She laughed. ‘My pa has certainly never said anything about how to deal with boys, ’cept to stay away from them!’
Marie smiled and hugged the girl. ‘And you’ve been the daughter I didn’t have.’
The two boys returned and Tad’s mother inspected them. ‘You’ll dry out before the fun starts,’ she said. ‘Now, I want you to promise there’ll be no more fighting today.’
‘All right, Ma,’ said Tad.
‘Yes’um,’ added Zane.
‘Why don’t the three of you make your way to the square now. I’m sure all the other boys and girls are doing the same.’
‘What about you, Ma?’ asked Zane, his face betraying his eagerness to be off.
‘I’m waiting for Caleb. He should be here soon.’
Zane and Ellie said they’d see Marie later and left, but Tad lingered. He seemed to choke on his words, but finally said, ‘Ma, are you going to wed Caleb?’
Marie laughed. ‘What brought that up?’
‘Well, he’s been here three times in the last two months, is all, and you see him a lot.’
‘His father built Stardock, if you remember what I told you.’ She shook her head. ‘Are you worried I might or that I won’t?’
The boy shrugged, his lanky frame suddenly appearing more man-like to his mother. He said, ‘I don’t know. Caleb’s a good man, I suppose. But it’s just—’
‘He’s not your pa,’ she finished.
‘That’s not what I meant,’ said Tad. ‘It’s just … well, he’s gone so much.’
With a wry smile, Marie said, ‘There’s more than one woman who’d count her husband being away a blessing, boy.’ She put her hands on his shoulders and turned him around. ‘Now, catch up with the others. I’ll be along soon.’
Tad ran off after the others, and Marie turned her attention to her small home. Everything was neat and dusted; she might be poor, but she had pride in an orderly house. Keeping it tidy was difficult with two boys underfoot, but they usually obeyed her without question.
Marie then inspected the soup simmering over the hearth and judged it to be ready. Everyone in the town was expected to contribute to the harvest festival, and while her soup was simple fare, it was delicious and welcomed, even by those who contributed far more.
Glancing at the door, she half-expected to see a tall man silhouetted against the light, and for a brief, bitter moment she realized she wasn’t sure who it was she wished for more to be the one to see – her late husband, or Caleb. Pushing aside such irrelevant thoughts, she reminded herself that aching for what you couldn’t have was pointless. She was a farmer’s wife, and knew the nature of life: it rarely gave you choices, and to survive you looked forward, not back.
A short while later, Marie heard someone approach and turned to find Caleb at the door. Wearing half a smile, he said, ‘Expecting someone?’
She crossed her arms and gave him an appraising look. Only a few years younger than Marie, a clean-shaven chin and a long, unlined face gave Caleb a youthful look, despite the grey creeping into his shoulder-length brown hair. His eyes were also brown and fixed on her like a hunter’s. He wore well-made but plain-cut garb, fit for a woodsman, a large floppy hat of black felt, a dark-green wool tunic cut snugly over his broad shoulders, and leather breeches tucked into buckskin boots around his calves. He had a long face, but she thought him handsome, for he carried himself proudly. He always spoke calmly and thoughtfully and he wasn’t afraid of silence. But the main reason she was drawn to him was because when he looked at her, she felt that he saw something of value there. Caleb smiled. ‘I’m late?’
‘As usual,’ she answered with a slight smile. Then her expression bloomed as she laughed. ‘But not too late,’ she crossed the room to stand before him. Kissing and hugging him, she said, ‘The boys left a few minutes ago.’
He returned the hug, then said, ‘How much time do we have?’
Marie looked askance at him and said, ‘Not enough, if I read your mood correctly.’ She tilted her head towards the hearth. ‘Help me with the kettle.’ She moved to the hearth and picked up a long oak pole leaning beside the stonework chimney.
Caleb unslung his bow, hip quiver and backpack, and stored them in the corner. As Marie slipped the pole through the iron handle of the large kettle, he took the opposite end.
They lifted it from the iron hook which held it above the flames and started towards the door. ‘You first,’ he said.
Once outside, Caleb swung around so they could walk side-by-side with the kettle between them. ‘How was your journey?’ Marie asked him.
‘Uneventful,’ he answered.
She had learned not to ask about his business or where he had been, for she knew he was working on his father’s behalf. Some claimed that Caleb’s father had been the Duke of Stardock once, but at present no one claimed dominion over the island or its town on the opposite shore. Patrols from the Kingdom garrison at Shamata would occasionally spend a day or two at the local inn, or Keshian patrols might ride up from the border fortress in Nar Ayab, but neither side claimed the Great Star Lake or the surrounding countryside. This region was under the control of the Academy of Magicians on the island, and no one disputed their authority.
But Pug was no longer in control of the Academy, and like all those who lived in Stardock Town, Marie was unsure how that had come to pass. Yet, his sons – Caleb and his older brother Magnus – were still occasional visitors to the Academy. Whatever the relationship between Pug and the ruling council of the city of magicians, it was an enduring one, no matter what estrangements might have occurred in the past.
Marie had met Caleb when she was a young girl and he little more than a scruffy woods-boy. They had played together from time to time, but then he had vanished. Some said he had gone to live on an island in the Bitter Sea, while others