Royal Falcon

by Chris Svartbeck

  “That was Marada, the housekeeper and head of the servants. If you like good food, you’d better do as she says. She may seem a bit brusque, but she has a soft heart. If you whine a little, she will give you a piece of candied fruit! And what she said about the lessons is true. What else would they teach at a sorcerer’s house if not sorcery?”

  “So, we are going to be sorcerers?”

  A shadow passed over Tevi’s face for a moment, then he shrugged his shoulders. “Some of us will become sorcerers. Not all of us. To be precise, most of us will not. Anyone with an aptitude for magic comes here. But they can only determine who has enough magical power in our lessons; and that can take some time.”

  “Can we go home if we don’t learn sorcery?” little Sacan asked.

  A look of compassion appeared on Tevi’s face. “No, no one can return home. Those with an aptitude for magic, no matter how little, are too dangerous to the people out there. Those who fail to become sorcerers, remain here as servants. We will stay here for the rest of our lives; here or in another sorcerer’s house. Sometimes, they exchange people.”

  Sacan began to cry. “I don’t want to stay here; I want to go home to my mommy!”

  Jacitin came over from the other table and took the child in her arms. She rocked her like a baby and hummed a lullaby. “It’s alright little sister, it’s alright. We’re here with you, you aren’t alone, we are your family now!”

  Jokon looked over at Tevi. He just shrugged his shoulders. “You are dead to the people back home. Better get used to it fast. This is your home now.”

  An uneasy silence settled over the room for a moment. Then, a plate clattered in the kitchen and the din of voices started back up again.

  The school was at the other end of the Grays’ hallway, in the main wing of the building. Two broad, stone staircases dominated the view. Jokon stood, amazed, with his mouth open. At home, they used ladders. Only the well had stairs and there were only three steps. These steps seemed to ascend into infinity. He could see two other floors, each of them with a wide door in the middle between the staircases.

  Tevi nudged him. “You can look at this at midday. Now, we have to get to class. Come on!”

  The children in gray robes ran to the door on the ground floor. Behind the door was a large hall, flooded with light falling through high windows that blocked out the wind. When Jokon took a closer look, he realized these windows were also filled with glass. This sorcerer must be immeasurably wealthy! At home, only the little Temple of the Burning Goddess had a glass window, no larger than six hands wide, directly behind the gilded sun disk.

  The room was shaped like an amphitheater, with several curved rows of seats around a podium standing in a depression in the center of the floor. One of the boys in a green robe, a tall youth with an aquiline nose and long, thin fingers, had come with them. He stood behind the podium and looked up at the ranks. Then, he waved to the newcomers. “Sit up front so you can better understand me. And ask if you want to know something. I am Martei, by the way. My specialty is summoning.”

  Martei then demonstrated his abilities. He opened a window, raised a small mirror in his left hand, whistled and a moment later, a bush sparrow soared in and sat trustingly on his shoulder. Catching birds without a net! Jokon’s interest had been piqued.

  “Of course, you must practice diligently before you will be allowed to work with a mirror,” Martei said and took something out from behind the podium. “I have a few bowls of water here. You will use these as a stand-in for the mirror. Sit in groups around the bowls and try to call the bird from my hand to you.”

  “The same old thing again!” moaned Tevi, annoyed. “It’s always these stupid birds!”

  Jokon cautiously looked over at Martei, but he ignored Tevi’s complaining.

  Soon, they were sitting around the bowls, concentrating.

  Nothing happened. Martei repeated his instructions again and again in a monotone voice. Jokon concentrated until his forehead began to sweat. Tevi nodded off next to him. Little Sacan cuddled up with Jacitin and slept through the lesson. The bird didn’t move from Martei’s hand.

  The next lesson wasn’t any better. A girl named Dataree, who wore a green robe, taught abjuration. That appeared to be nothing but infinite repetitions of completely meaningless words. Supposedly, it could paralyze the racing caterpillars each of them had before them in a small box. The racing caterpillars didn’t seem at all impressed and continued happily jumping about. Dataree scolded her students because they weren’t concentrating and kept saying the words incorrectly. Aleti was the only one who enjoyed these vocal exercises, but she liked to hear herself talk, anyway. Jokon was very happy when the Grays were let off for their midday break after their second lesson.

  Finally, he could move again. What better time to explore the house? Tevi was more than happy to explain a few things to him.

  There were fourteen Greens, who taught the Grays. The Greens lived in the corridor above the Grays. They, in turn, received lessons from the Blues, in the classroom on the first floor. The Blues lived downstairs in the right wing which led to the tower. On the very top, on the floor directly below the roof, the Blues received lessons from the adepts. The adepts were the three Reds. Only the Reds had the privilege of being taught in the tower by Master Go himself.

  The Reds also lived in the right wing of the house; on the upper floor. Jokon looked down their corridor curiously. It was long, empty except for three narrow doors and twice as many windows, and ended in a stone wall. Was that all? Jokon took two steps into the corridor to take a closer look. Tevi pulled him back abruptly.

  “Are you stupid? You can’t go in there! We are only allowed to go in there if we are summoned by the Reds. And believe me, you don’t want that!”

  “Why not?”

  “They do strange things to us. Magical things. It hurts.”

  Oh. Jokon winced. Apparently, the adult sorcerers were up to no good with their students. He decided it was best to stay away from them.

  For now, his desire to explore was curbed. They spent the rest of the midday break playing in the courtyard.

  Thus began what would soon become a monotonous routine; lessons in summoning, incantations, conjuring and, of course, reading, writing and arithmetic.

  The luster of the new experience soon waned. Jokon thought most of the lessons were a waste of time. Despite all the theory they mercilessly repeated, they never learned how to properly cast spells. None of them were able to lure more than a few mice into the room with their summoning spells. He could have done that with a bit of patience and a piece of cheese; no magic required. So what was the point of it all? He had the impression the Greens were teasing the Grays and were intentionally trying to make the lessons incomprehensible.

  Nonetheless, all the Grays made an effort to learn everything they could. The lessons were the only thing standing between them and boredom. What else were they supposed to do? They were locked in, even though the doors were open wide, all day, with servants going in and out as they pleased. A spell locked the children in far more effectively than any wall.

  Of course, they all tested its boundaries. Including Jokon. First, he walked straight at the gate. The gate buzzed. It sounded like a warning. When he reached the arched gateway, it felt like he was running against a huge spider web. With every inch he fought toward the outside, the greater the resistance grew. The buzzing in his ears grew into an earsplitting din. The air felt like molasses. He couldn’t breathe. Finally, he gave up and retreated. He tried again, twice. Even if he got a running start or suddenly turned a corner, the gate’s protection spell held. There was no way out; not through the gate, not through the windows, not even from the wall. The invisible shield surrounded the sorcerer’s entire property and securely locked the children in.

  Jokon enviously watched as the servants went out to make hay or tend Marada’s little herb and vegetable garden outside the wall, or drove their ox carts, filled with mysterious purchases,
in and out of the massive gate.

  “Nonsense, they aren’t mysterious!” said Tevi, dismissively. “They just drive to the next village to buy goods. It’s right near here. You can even see the village from atop the wall!”

  He showed Jokon a place behind the kitchen where a large staircase led up to the wall. The top of the wall was wide enough that they could walk to the gate side-by-side. From there, they had a clear view of the oxcarts’ destination: a collection of huts, huddled together, their thatched roofs hardly discernible from the surrounding dry, grassy hills. Only the smoke of the cooking fires revealed them as human dwellings. The sight instantly reminded Jokon of home. He fought back his tears. No, he didn’t want to dishonor his father. He wouldn’t cry.

  From then on, Jokon avoided the gate. Instead, he preferred to sit in the shadow of the tower on the northern wall. There, the terrain behind the estate dropped steeply to a sandy, rocky plateau. A paradise for the falcons that soared on the thermal drafts over the dry fields. Jokon never tired of looking at them. The falcons were free. In his dreams, he soared away with them.

  *

  Ioro looked longingly out the window. Far away, above the roofs of the summer harem, he could see birds circling. It was probably just another crow. Perhaps, however, it was a falcon. Yes, he was certain, it had to be a falcon! After all, the falcon was his heraldic bird. He would fight under the falcon banner, and he would be the greatest commander of all time! If only he were allowed to leave the palace...

  A strong hand touched his shoulder. “Well, my son, is there anything interesting to see?”

  Ioro looked up. His father was standing behind him; large and powerful, the falcon crest of House Mehme on his chest and the crown nestled in his dense, black mane. Ioro was practically bursting with pride. His father had to be the most handsome and best king Karapak had ever seen. He wanted to be like his father one day. And his father had won all of his wars. Every one of them. He suddenly blurted out, “When will I finally be allowed to start being a commander? I want to go to war for you!”

  Kanata smiled and tousled his hair. “Little falcon; not yet a fledgling and already so bellicose! You will have to wait a bit longer.”

  "How long?” Ioro demanded to know.

  “Well, let me think... a few years of school... a few years of weapons training... a few years of politics... a few years in the army... Perhaps you will be ready in twenty to thirty years!”

  Ioro was appalled. “Then I’ll be old before I’m allowed to fight!”

  Kanata threw his head back and roared with laughter. “Am I old?” he asked. “I am, after all, thirty years older than you!”

  “Oh no!” Ioro cried, horrified, “You are not old! I didn’t mean it like that, I... I just meant... Thirty years is so terribly long...” Uncertain, he fell silent and looked sheepishly at the floor.

  Kanata placed his hand under his chin and gently raised his head. “Perhaps it won’t be so long,” he suggested with a good-natured grin. “You could learn several subjects at once.”

  Ioro jumped forward. “Really? I can do that?”

  “We will tell your mother that, starting tomorrow, you will start going to school regularly. The cadets in the officer’s guard will be very pleased to have a mascot.”

  Ioro wasn’t certain what his father meant by that, but he assumed it was good. He beamed at him happily.

  Miomio was less pleased. From now on, her son would no longer belong to her alone. She would have to share him with the rest of the world now. But she knew this day would come. Miomio suppressed her sadness and hugged her precious boy. “Ioro, my dear, I am so happy for you!” Then she bowed before Kanata. “My royal husband, I am so pleased that you grace our son with your favor!”

  Kanata waved his hand dismissively. He took Ioro’s hand. “Let’s take a look at the school. I will personally introduce you to your instructors.”

  Ioro happily trotted away with him.

  Miomio raised her fan. No one needed to see the small tear running down her cheek. Ioro’s carefree childhood was over. How she would miss those days!

  *

  Sacan missed her mother. She wept, she was so homesick. Not outside on the wall, but at night, in her room. Aleti and Jacitin sat with her every night and tried to comfort her. It took two full moons before Sacan stopped crying.

  During lessons, she crouched next to Jacitin or cowered in a corner like a frightened bird.

  Marada once gave her an extra treat at dinner.

  The red-clad woman didn’t appear to like that. She scolded Marada. “You have better things to do than spoil these useless little village brats!”

  Marada lowered her eyes and kept silent. The Red slowly circled the Grays’ table. The children tried to be as silent as mice and tried not to move. Then, the Red returned to her table and continued her discussion with the other two adepts.

  As soon as they were in the courtyard at midday, Jokon asked Tevi about the Reds.

  “The good-looking Red is Nao,” explained Tevi. “He is the oldest of the adepts. Marada once said he is one of the best Master Go has ever trained. The one with the scar is Tur. Stay away from him! He supposedly killed someone before he came here. The stable boys told me Master Go paid to free him from the gallows. No idea if it’s true, but I believe it. Imagine, he’s never had a longer name!”

  Jokon shuddered. There were only three types of people in Karapak who were given a single-syllable name: sorcerers, slaves and the children of prostitutes. The former were feared, the latter despised. No wonder no one liked Tur. “And the woman?” he asked.

  “That is Kai, the daughter of a tailor from Toolinemeeka, a little town not far from here. Supposedly, she used to be nice. Then, she fell in love with Nao, but he wasn’t interested. Then, she got together with Tur.”

  “You mean, they are a couple?”

  “No, definitely not. Who could ever love someone like Tur? But he showed her a few things and she discovered that they share some predilections. They both enjoy hurting others. Stay away from them and try not to get noticed. Grays who get noticed by the Reds usually get called right in to see them. Some don’t ever come back.”

  That was all Tevi had to say about the Reds. After that, he fell silent whenever Jokon asked. No one spoke about the Reds. Anyone who had been there for any length of time seemed to fear them. Even the servants tried to stay as far away from the Reds as possible. None of them were willing to talk about the Reds, either.

  If at all possible, they spoke even less about the master. Master Go appeared to live in the tower, but they only ever saw him crossing the courtyard on his oxcart when he was called away on urgent business. At home, Master Go wore his sun-yellow robe, but when he left, he always put on his unassuming, brown travel robe.

  Marada was the only servant who entered the tower to bring Master Go food and other things. Most of the time, the other servants tried to avoid even going near the tower. Everyone seemed to be afraid of the master. Even the Reds became very respectful and tame in his presence. The buzzing noise surrounded Master Go like a vibrating orb and Jokon’s skull pounded when the master walked past him. Even the adepts seemed to be enveloped by the buzzing, albeit, not as powerfully. It must be a sign of strong magical powers.

  Just before the next monsoon season, Jacitin fell ill. Most of the time since their arrival, she had only half-heartedly participated in lessons. Then, Master Go had summoned her to the tower. Master Go appeared to randomly summon the children. No one knew the criteria by which he chose them, but, eventually, everyone was summoned to see him. After her visit to the tower, Jacitin didn’t study at all anymore. She just sat at the window, staring out at the landscape. Jacitin deteriorated more and more each day, becoming thinner and weaker.

  Dogon also fell ill after he went to the tower. His body recovered quickly, but his memory didn’t work very well after that. It became very difficult for him to retain new knowledge. Jokon warily observed the situation. Two other Grays went
into the tower and came back ill. One of the girls had a fever for five days and only barely survived. But it wasn’t just the Grays; one of the Greens fell ill, too. Other children, however, remained completely healthy after they visited the tower. Jokon asked Tevi about it.

  “It was the same thing last monsoon season. A lot of people fell ill then, too. Three even died. Zaraca was as crazy as a loon after he was ill. They had to take him to the asylum in Sawateenatari.”

  “I’ve never heard of an illness like that before. We didn’t have anything like it in Maneetimai,” Jokon said sadly.

  The servants seemed to feel the same way he did. They cared for and spoiled the sick children and tried to nurse them back to health.

  Jacitin kept getting worse. After a while, she just stayed in her bed. Jokon visited her every day and talked about home to cheer her up. Shocked, he realized he was already starting to forget details. So many names and faces were starting to fade. He tried to piece the puzzle of his past back together again. Then, he remembered something he had completely forgotten. “Jacitin, where did Lira go?” he asked. Jacitin looked at him, her eyes glassy from the fever. Her thin, bony hand gripped his wrist painfully as her cracked lips tried to form words. “Lira is dead,” she forced out with a wheeze. “She was too small. They consumed her almost immediately!”

  “Consumed her? What do you mean?”

  Jacitin’s eyes had fallen shut. Jokon shook her, panicking. “Jacitin? Jacitin? Please, you have to tell me what happened to Lira!”

  But Jacitin’s eyes remained closed and she stopped moving. Jokon waited for a long time and she didn’t move at all. Then, he quietly tiptoed to the door.