The Silver Falcon (12 page)

William reached for his belt. Fortunately, he had his slingshot with him. He looked for a suitable stone. It would not be difficult to hit him. Odon was no farther away than the songbirds he brought down almost every day. William found a stone, placed it in the strap fastened between the stubby forks, pulled the strap taut, aimed, and fired.

Odon collapsed to the ground without a word.

His rosy-cheeked friend held his sides with laughter when he realized that Odon had been laid out by a simple stone.

Robert, meanwhile, did not spot William until he emerged from his hiding place, crossed the path, and gave one of the horses a hefty slap on the rump, making it gallop away as if the devil were in pursuit.

“Hey,” shouted the squire as the second horse panicked and followed hard on the heels of the first. He threw up his hands and ran after them.

“Come,” said William to his friend. He had already placed a second stone in the strap, but the apple-cheeked squire was far too busy trying to catch the horses to notice the danger he was in.

Odon groaned quietly.

“We’d better get away from here.” William grabbed Robert’s sleeve and pulled him away.

William preferred not to think about the consequences of felling Odon, and he simply ran as fast as he could. Robert stayed close behind and only stopped, panting, shortly before they reached the mews.

“It’s better if we don’t tell my father about this. He thinks the squires are honorable men and wouldn’t believe us. He doesn’t know that everyone in the village lives in fear and worry because these men vent their arrogance on the old, the sick, and the weak.
The lord of the manor himself has no idea. Odon’s aunt conceals his outrages. Reginald de Vere, the fencing master, is the only one who knows the squires well enough to see through them. He punishes them when he catches them, but unfortunately that’s all too seldom. You challenged Odon today. He’ll never forgive you for it,” Robert warned him. “But though you were a fool to stand up against him on my account—thank you, Will. Friends?”

“Friends!”

They shook hands.

“Where have you been?” Logan addressed his son, striding toward him.

“I shot down a thrush.”

“And you?” Logan asked of William.

“Father, didn’t you send William to look for me, because of the storm?”

“Of course I did. But couldn’t he have shot a bird while he was about it? To miss an opportunity like that, when you’re already in the woods,” he scolded them. “Now go and feed the dogs.”

“And what a bird you shot down, Will!” Robert burst out as soon as Logan was far enough away. “As a thank-you, you’re getting the best bits of my thrush for your merlin.”

“Well, in that case it’s been worth making an enemy.” William winked, giving Robert a friendly poke in the ribs. “From now on we’d better go to the woods together. It won’t be entirely safe for the next few days.”

“He’ll find a way, believe me,” Robert predicted darkly. “The only question is what and when.”

A stormy wind was rushing through the leaves, still warm with summer heat, as William and Robert made their way to the tower. August had been hot and dry, and September was scarcely better.
The dirt in the yard spun about in whirlwinds. William was putting the two water buckets down to rub the dust out of his eyes when he heard the stamp of horses’ hooves on the path toward the mews.

“My lord, Sir Reginald.” Robert greeted the two leading riders first, bowing politely.

William remembered Sir Ralph, the lord of the manor, though he had not seen him at all since his arrival at Thorne. The other man, whom Robert had called Sir Reginald, was the fencing master he’d been told about. William groaned quietly when he noticed Odon riding behind them.

“My lord, Sir Reginald,” said William, imitating Robert. He bowed before the two barons. “I’ll go and fetch Logan.”

“You stay here. Robert can go,” said Sir Ralph firmly.

Odon grinned broadly.

William tried to control the trembling of his knees. Had Odon told his uncle about the incident in the woods? If so, he could be sure the lord of the manor knew only half the truth and would punish him severely.

“Odon says you’ve been boasting about your skill and claim your falcon flies better than Robert’s.”

William’s mouth was dry, and his head felt drained of blood. He had not said a word to Odon about the merlins.

“I’ve promised the better bird to Odon,” Sir Ralph went on. “Logan and I will decide when to make them hunt, so that I can judge for myself which one is better. Then we’ll see.” He kept his eyes on William, observing him as though he hoped to find from his face whether William was a braggart or not.

“I haven’t been boasting.” William found the courage to protest. He did not deign to look at Odon, but he could almost feel the squire’s grin. “Both merlins are good birds. When they hunt, you will be able to see for yourself that it makes no difference which one you choose.”

Odon grinned even more. He seemed all too sure of his approaching triumph.

“Look, Father, here comes Logan,” said a young girl who was sitting on a pony not far from Odon. William had not noticed her before.

“Welcome, my lord! Sir Reginald.” Logan managed to bow without looking subservient.

“Have you got any more puppies, Logan? May I see them? Please?” the girl pleaded softly, adroitly slipping down from her pony.

Logan glanced at Sir Ralph to seek his approval. “Of course, mistress. William, go with her. Go on, make haste.”

Happy not to have to put up with Odon’s grinning any longer, William ran after the girl, who had already hurried ahead, caught up with her, and threw open the door of the stables. Then he followed her in. The wooden shutters were wide-open to let in the air, and it was hardly any darker inside than outside.

“You can call me Sibylle when my father’s not there,” the girl said in a soft voice, smiling charmingly. “Oh, isn’t he sweet,” she cried, trying to pick up one of the puppies.

“Wait, I’ll show you how to hold them without hurting them.” William put his hand on her soft arm, and Sibylle let go of the puppy. “Put one hand under its tummy, just behind its front paws, and the other under its behind.” He scooped up the little dog and handed it to Sibylle.

“How old are you?” she asked, folding the fidgeting dog in her arm. “What a fine little dog you are,” she cooed to the little bundle of brown fur.

“I was twelve at Eastertide.” William felt as though he had grown a little there and then, so proud was he. He towered over Sibylle, whom he reckoned to be nine or perhaps ten years old, whereas Robert—though almost two years younger—already stood eye to eye with him, much to William’s chagrin.

“Are you friends, you and Robert?”

William felt as though he had been caught thinking about Robert. Two tiny dimples appeared on the child’s cheeks when she smiled. William blushed, then nodded. “Of course we are.” He leaned down to a puppy that was snuffling around his leg, whimpering quietly for attention, and stroked it. “You’re to have the other merlin, aren’t you?”

Sibylle nodded. “But I’d much rather have a dog. You can play better games with them.”

“You can’t play games with a falcon at all,” William corrected her. What a waste, he thought, giving a young girl like Sibylle a falcon!

“I know,” she said slowly. “Perhaps I should get to know falcons properly. Maybe I would like them better. I should come here more often. Then I could play with the dogs, too.”

William nodded, still disconcerted by her clear, bell-like voice. “If your father doesn’t mind.”

“He lets me do more or less as I wish.” She waved her hand confidently. Her eyes sparkled mischievously. “But as for my mother”—she shook her head indignantly—“only my beloved cousin Odon can wrap her around his little finger.”

When the stable door creaked open, William jumped.

“Will? We’re to show them the merlins. She’s to come, too.” Without so much as glancing at the girl, Robert went out again.

“I don’t think he likes me.” In place of the dimples, there were now two sad little creases.

“Stuff and nonsense,” William reassured her. “We had a little problem with Odon a while ago, so he’s in a bad temper.”

Sibylle smiled with relief. “I can well understand. I don’t like him, either, although he’s my cousin and I’m supposed to love him like a brother. He’s just too cruel and deceitful. My maid complains about him almost every day. Odon pinches her bottom,” she added in a whisper. “My mother says she shouldn’t make such a
fuss. An ugly creature like her should be proud to be noticed by a squire like him. But she isn’t ugly at all. And Odon isn’t exactly handsome himself. Although all the girls do have an eye for him…Sometimes I kick him in the shin. He can’t hit me, you see. That would be against his code of honor. But when there’s no one looking, he pulls my hair.”

Picking on little girls, that’s typical of a coward like him, thought William angrily.

Robert opened the door again. “Are you coming or not?”

“Yes.” William hastily took the dog from Sibylle, put it on the ground, and pushed her out through the door. “We don’t want Robert to get into trouble on our account.”

“No!” Frightened, Sibylle shook her head.

That evening, once the lord of the manor and his retinue had left, Logan scolded the boys. “You must work harder. Young Odon is impatient. He wants his falcon as soon as possible. Sir Ralph is far too indulgent with the fellow. Not that the lord is a bad master, but he doesn’t pay enough attention to what goes on at Thorne when he’s away,” Logan growled angrily. William and Robert were surprised and hung spellbound on every word. “What are you staring at? Don’t you have things to do? Go on, fetch some water and then make up your pallets. Plenty of work waiting for you tomorrow.” To add force to his words, he gave them each a light cuff on the back of the head. “And you, go scrub the table,” he told Nesta. “I’m going to cut some wood before it gets dark.” He stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

The next day, when the sun was already high in the sky, Sibylle came to the mews alone. She was wearing simple clothes, like a servant, and arrived on foot. When she asked to be allowed to
help the boys, William refused indignantly. She was the lord of the manor’s daughter!

Robert had a different view. “If she wants to learn how to handle falcons—which is advisable, because she’s to have the merlin, after all—then it’s only right and proper that she should help with the occasional task,” he declared firmly. He pressed a water bucket into her hand and gave her the task of filling the falcons’ baths.

Sibylle beamed at him and followed Robert around for the rest of the day. As it turned out, she was not proud and did not behave like a spoiled little brat when faced with dirty or difficult tasks. After only a few days, she felt confident enough to hold a falcon on her gloved fist and offer it the bony scraps of dead birds.

Sibylle was always cheerful and often made the boys laugh. She kept her eyes open and helped wherever she could. Whenever Robert did not assign some work to her, she would frolic with the hounds, which she still preferred over the falcons. But she did begin to see the worth of the birds.

“She’s completely different from her cousin, helpful and always good-tempered,” William said to Robert one evening after they had walked Sibylle back to the castle and, afterward, had a race. He threw himself down on the grass, panting, and looked up into the softly tinted evening sky. “She doesn’t seem to take after her mother, either. She doesn’t even look like her, except perhaps for the color of her hair.”

“Hmm, perhaps,” Robert replied, resting his head in his hand and drawing wavy lines in the packed dirt with a twig. “She’s all right.”

“Has she gone, finally?” a little voice said from out of nowhere.

“Nesta, you nosy little toad,” Robert growled at his sister.

“She’s always allowed to run around with you. You never take me,” she cried petulantly. “I always have to make the meals, feed the chickens, sweep the house, do the laundry. She can do whatever
she wants, all day long, or have it done for her.” Nesta’s eyes were black with resentment.

“She is the lord’s daughter, after all,” Robert replied with a shrug.

“It’s still not fair.” Nesta stamped her foot.

“Come, don’t be angry with her.” William smiled reassuringly at Nesta. “Sibylle can’t help it that she’s Sir Ralph’s daughter. In fact, you might even feel sorry for her. It can’t be easy to have Odon for a cousin and the lady of the manor for a mother.”

Nesta shrugged and thrust out her chin. “If I catch you, I’ll tickle you,” William threatened, leaping to his feet.

“Catch me if you can!” she taunted William, waiting until he had almost caught her before running away again, laughing joyfully. When she looked round to see if he was following, he realized she was making eyes at him, even though she was still only a child. William decided he would not tickle her so often anymore, so as not to raise her hopes. One day, the young men of the village would line up before her father, but she would marry the son of a falconer. That was the custom, for it was a privilege to be a falconer, a privilege that was handed down within the family.