The Stewards of Reed, Volume 1: The Rise of Fallon (12 page)

Fallon had not thought about that. Knowing that he could have unintentionally poisoned himself put a little damper on his excitement, but it did not last long. He had solved the puzzle, and Steward Isaiah was clearly pleased.

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

The weeks seemed to fly by and though Fallon missed his family terribly, most of the time the training kept him busy enough to take his mind off those unpleasant thoughts. It was already Hexune, though one would not know it by the weather, which had been particularly cold and foggy as of late. It was the first Diday of the month and Fallon knew that meant Steward Isaiah would be attending the Council meeting that evening. He was trying to decide which books he should read from the Steward’s study that night when Isaiah approached him and Beatrice in the kitchen.

“Beatrice, I am afraid you shall be alone for dinner tonight; I have decided to bring Fallon along with me to the Council meeting. Would you mind putting together a basket of bread and cheese for us?”

Fallon was excited. He had not been back to the Council Chambers since his birthday, and he was eager to see the beautiful inner chamber again. Plus, he was curious about what exactly was discussed at those meetings anyway.

As they walked along the village corridors towards the Council Chambers, Steward Isaiah explained, “These meetings might be dull at times, but there are important decisions that must be made regarding the management of the village. This shall give you a taste of the various things that a Steward must concern himself with. Please, whatever you do, do not fall asleep – no matter how bored you may become.”

Steward Isaiah winked at the boy as he said this and Fallon laughed – he could not possibly imagine ever falling asleep in such an important meeting. Of course, that was before Fallon had been sitting on an uncomfortable wooden chair for more than two hours as the Elders discussed various matters relating to the village. Fallon tried to pay attention to the conversations, but he found his mind wandering and his eyes growing heavy.

The Elders had discussed several topics: the most recent raid by the Komanites and what should be done about their escalating and continued threat to the village (Fallon was distracted during this discussion as he fought to keep the images from his ring of fire dream from entering his mind); concerns about the village’s grain stock given the late snowmelt (this made him think of his father’s farm and his family); the high waters of the River Nye and how its eroded banks were now threatening portions of the road to Graves (the Elders assigned a committee to help restore those banks and save the road from collapsing into the river); that the treasury was low on reserves because of the raid and the late snowmelt; that the Hartford Inn was in need of a new roof and as such there would be several workmen and various equipment in the street in the coming weeks; so on and so forth.

Fallon’s ears perked up a little when Elder Graham started to reveal his latest intelligence on the Eastern Territories. “As I understand it, more and more Easterners have made their way across the Divisidero Mountains into the borderlands of Durango. Several skirmishes have already erupted over these unwelcome guests, and the violence is escalating.”

The Elders were all troubled by the news and remained quiet for some time until Elder Catherine broke the uneasy silence with news of her own.

“I hate to follow this troubling news with more bad news, but we seem to be having a small outbreak of Nye fever here in Reed,” Elder Catherine said. “I have lost four patients in the last month, and I shall lose more if I cannot find the medicine I need. Our climate is not especially suited for seaginger root, and I am afraid the long winter killed off what few plants we had.”

The Elders were familiar with the Nye fever, which caused nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and a very high fever accompanied by the worst case of chills one could imagine. It was not too much of a concern for healthy adults, but the very young and the very old usually had a hard time of it. All four of the victims had been less than six years old, which made things particularly sad.

“I am traveling to Henly next week. I shall look for seaginger root for you,” offered Elder Theodora.

“I am certain Bartow has some in stock. I believe my son is planning a trip there shortly, I shall have him look as well,” said Elder Tomar.

“Thank you, I would greatly appreciate that,” replied Elder Catherine.

Fallon’s heart was beating fast. He had another thought, but he did not know if he was allowed to speak up at these meetings. The Steward had not set any ground rules (other than not falling asleep).
Should I say something now? Perhaps I should just mention something to the Steward on the way home.

As Fallon was struggling with what to do, Steward Isaiah unexpectedly addressed him. “Fallon, my boy, it is getting late and I do not want Beatrice to worry. You should head home before the ten o’clock bell tolls. We just have a few more matters to finish up here and I shall be leaving shortly. Good night.”

“Aye, sir. Good night.” Fallon stood up from his uncomfortable chair and turned to go but stopped. “Sir?”

“What is it, Fallon?”

“About the Nye fever…I seem to recall that drinking a tea made from meehli flower petals may help with the nausea and whatnot. I saw some meehli flowers growing in the northern hills above the Village Square the other day. I shall be happy to pick some for Elder Catherine.”

Elder Catherine smiled. “He is right. I had forgotten about that old remedy. Of course, I would still like to have my hands on some seaginger root, but the meehli flower would most definitely be of help. How did you know about that remedy, Fallon?”

“I am not certain. I must have read it somewhere,” he shrugged. That was not exactly truthful, but Fallon did not feel like explaining his fascination with health remedies. It had started after the death of his mother all those years back. Since then Fallon has particularly sought out anything in the literature to do with fevers. Perhaps one of those remedies could have saved his mother.

As Fallon closed the door behind him and headed out into the night air towards Steward Isaiah’s house, the Elders turned their attention towards Isaiah. They knew that the Steward was going to provide an update on Fallon and his progress, and this was the reason the boy was asked to leave.

“How is he doing?” asked Elder Anne.

“He is a good student,” replied Isaiah. “Very well-read – as we saw tonight – and a good problem solver. He is a quick study…of most things anyway. He does not have much skill when it comes to weapons. But I must say that so far, I do not see anything in Fallon that gives me cause for concern.”

“Has he had any more dreams?” inquired Elder Lydia. At the previous meeting Steward Isaiah had filled them in on Fallon’s dream about the fire.

“No. Not that he has mentioned, anyway.”

“Where is that messenger that we sent to Lady Dinah?” asked Elder Peter. “I would have expected him to be back by now.”

“I am certain he shall be here soon. I do not imagine it is an easy journey to and from Mt. Xavier,” replied the Steward.

And with that the meeting concluded, and each of the Elders went off to their respective homes. As he walked along the same path that Fallon had taken just a few minutes earlier, Steward Isaiah found himself thinking a familiar question.
Where is the boy?
Though of course now he was speaking of Gentry.

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

It had not taken long to find the small cabin in the forest, the one that the rumors had spoken of, the rumors that had set them on their quest.

“But it is empty, my lord,” Wendell protested, looking in the window.

“It is not. She was here recently, I can feel the remnants of her presence. No doubt she shall be back soon, and you shall be waiting for her.”

“Aye, my lord.”

“Are you ready?”

Wendell gave a fearful glance to the potion held out in Lord Cephas’s hand and closed his eyes. “Aye, my lord.”

“Then drink. A deep sleep shall take hold in a while, but she shall be able to revive you.”

“And if she is not able?” Wendell asked in a small voice.

“Then she is no wizard.”

“But is that not what they say in jest about her?” There was now panic in the servant’s voice. “Perhaps she does not have any wizarding skill. Perhaps she shall leave me to die!”

“Enough!” Lord Cephas glared at Wendell. “Would you rather I take you home to live in the misery that has been our world since you were a child? Would you rather the suffering of our people to continue?”

“No, my lord,” replied Wendell, his voice once again small.

“Then you must do this.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Lord Cephas watched as his faithful servant swallowed the potion. “I must leave before I am discovered,” he said. “I shall return for you in the fall, before the first of the snows touch the ground.”

“Aye, my lord.”

Wendell’s head grew dizzy and his eyes grew heavy. He lay down in front of the cabin door, curled up in a fetal position, and fell asleep.

When he awoke, he found himself in a white room, with bare white walls, white furniture, white sheets and heavy white blankets all around him. He was dizzy and weak and confused. He remembered seeing an old woman smile at him, but everything faded to black again.

It would be a few more days before Gentry finally regained enough consciousness to start talking. “Where am I?” he asked the old woman seated next to him, holding a warm cloth that she had been using to wipe his face.

But the old woman did not answer his question. “I shall find the Lady,” she said. As she stood up to walk out of the room, Gentry was surprised at her short stature. She was a dwarf of course, but Gentry had never seen anyone like her before.

A few minutes later the old woman reappeared with a beautiful lady dressed in a flowing white gown with long black hair and eyes as black as coal. Though he had never seen her before, he knew at once it was Lady Dinah.

“My lady,” he said, trying to sit up in bed for a more proper greeting.

“Please, no need to rise on my account. You are still weak and must rest,” she said.

Gentry frowned, but fell slowly back into the comfortable pillows behind him. “How is it that I am here, my lady?” he asked.

“My helpers found you on the trail and brought you here,” she replied.

“The trail…it kept going in circles…I could not find you.” Gentry’s mind was still a bit hazy but the feeling of being hopelessly lost still haunted him.

“You would not have found me at all if you had not mentioned Steward Isaiah’s name,” she admonished. “I must be careful about whom I allow to my castle here on the mountain – especially after the Second War. I was prepared to let you die,” she added ominously, her voice cold and disapproving.

“I meant you no harm, my lady,” Gentry started to say.

“Yet you carry a bow and arrow…and a knife,” she countered.

“For the wild animals, not you,” he explained.

The wizard said nothing.

“How did you know I was on the mountain?” Gentry asked, trying to recall if he had seen any birds or other possible spies during his hike.

“Otto is a friend of mine. He warned me about you. Or rather, Max did.”

Gentry vaguely remembered the grey bird that sat on Otto’s shoulder.

“For future reference, there are no wild animals on Mt. Xavier – at least none that might do harm – and you shall find a much more welcoming reception if you come announced and unarmed.”

“Aye, my lady.” Gentry lowered his gaze like a reprimanded child.

Lady Dinah observed her guest for some time before speaking again. “Why did you come in search of me?” she asked.

“I--I have a message for you,” he replied. At that moment he became keenly aware of the fact that he was naked beneath the sheets and that the message he had carried all this while was no longer in his possession. Panic set in as he looked around the room and failed to see any of his belongings.

“Well, what is it?” Lady Dinah asked, somewhat impatiently.

“It is a message from Steward Isaiah. It was in a bronze tube, with the rest of my belongings, wherever they might be now.”

Lady Dinah frowned in annoyance. “Abigail, please see that the guest’s belongings are brought to the room,” the wizard said with a sigh, turning to the old woman. She watched as Abigail left the room and then turned her attention back to Gentry. “It would be helpful to know with whom I am speaking. Have you a name?”

“Gentry, my lady. Son of Hammond of Reed.”

She seemed to make a mental note of his name but said no more. As they waited for Abigail to return, Gentry’s thoughts turned towards his family, his journey and everything that had transpired. “For how long have I been here, my lady?” he asked finally.

“You have been under Abigail’s careful watch for more than three days now,” replied the wizard. “You were quite frozen and weak when my helpers found you.”

Three days! That meant he had left Yukon nine days ago. He was way behind schedule; his father would not be pleased. Then he remembered Casper. Gentry had only paid for ten days of boarding for his horse.
What if Otto sold him?

Lady Dinah could see Gentry was troubled. “Is something wrong?”

“My horse. I had to leave him in Yukon with Otto, but I fear I did not pay for sufficient boarding. I had not planned to be gone for so long….” Gentry’s voice trailed off.

“I see,” she said. “Well, I have not yet sent Max back to Yukon; I was waiting for you to regain consciousness. I shall send a message to Otto asking that he continue to board your horse for a little while longer. You must pay him of course.”

A wave of relief passed over Gentry. “Aye. Thank you, my lady.”

Abigail finally returned to the room. Behind her was another dwarf, this time a man, dragging Gentry’s belongings behind him. The man turned to Gentry, awaiting further instruction.

“I shall need my coat,” Gentry said. “If you would not mind bringing the bag over to me, I would appreciate it. The bag is nearly your size. I hope it is not too heavy for you to lift.”