The Falconer by Darcy Pattison

Author:Darcy Pattison [Pattison, Darcy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 978-1-62944-124-5
Publisher: Mims House

THE CARAVAN

The secret, Britt decided, was how to survive your friendships.

The next morning, Britt walked out of the palace into the chilly morning and stretched toward the morning star which dimmed then disappeared. A rosy color streaked the eastern horizon.

Lady Jetje had slept all night and still hadn’t stirred when Britt quietly left the room. Tatty Mog was awake, though, so Britt carried the hooded gyrfalcon on her arm.

Somehow, Britt expected to feel changed, a new person. The decision to stay had forced her to leap over an emotional chasm. But her stomach grumbled as usual, her hair tangled as usual, and her arm ached from holding Tatty Mog, as usual. Everything was new, and yet nothing was new.

King Ewald saluted her from an upper window where he was watching the tribute caravan load up. Beside him, Danel leaned over the railing and called to someone. Britt sighed. That meant Danel knew about her decision last night. It aggravated her, but the King trusted Danel and told him everything.

The caravan, lined up just outside the rear courtyard of Munir Palace, pulsed with excitement, the courtyard teeming with covered wagons, open wagons, horses, throngs of people, everyone and everything moving, weaving a jumbled tapestry of color from the white-robed Zendis, the black livery of servants, the colorful robes of merchants, and a jumbled clamor from the shouted orders, tears of goodbye, excited calls, and watching it all, Britt surrendered to the excitement.

Twice the usual number of Tazis lolled about the courtyard, forcing servants to step over or around them. A line of men looked like turtles as they grunted under the weight of a burlap bag of grain and plodded through the courtyard to the wagons where Captain Quibila ticked off the count. One thousand bags of grain, enough to fill five wagons, were G’il Dan’s tribute quota for the year. Other cities had similar quotas.

Britt had dressed in her falconer’s uniform. Sim had given her a black cloak, embroidered with the Zendi insignia, but she preferred her mother’s red cardigan to ward off the morning chill. She walked wide-eyed among the servants, trying to watch everything at once, but servants bumped Tatty Mog again and again.

To avoid the crowd, she found a large stone near the wall and climbed upon it to watch. From her falconer’s bag, she pulled out a stake which she drove into the ground beside the stone, tethered Tatty Mog to it, and took off her hood so the gyrfalcon could watch, too. Britt stretched on tiptoe to see the end of the grain line. How long would the loading take? Surprisingly, the line was already short.

The Zendi were as meticulous with the tribute as they were with their game of azille. Captain Quibila stopped the last three men: “That’s a thousand. Take those back to the storehouses.”

Prince Oran appeared, dressed in long-sleeved clothing that would protect his sensitive skin from the sun. He talked briefly with Captain Quibila before striding off to the stables. He returned a moment later with his white stallion, followed by a stable boy leading a chestnut horse.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.