Copper Falcon by W. Michael Gear Page A

fear-sweat trickled down my cheeks. The dream had been so clear; the warriors blocking the road had pointed at Father, crying, “It’s him!” The bolt of terror as he did had jolted me awake.
    I rubbed a trembling hand over my face.
    In fact, Seven Skull Shield had laughed off the notion. “You think my slaves, men who actually
work
for a living, might be Four Winds lords?” He’d winked at the Hawk Clan man. “Sweating in the sun? Bearing loads? Would an ass-packed-tight Four Winds noble ever stoop to such?”
    That had elicited belly laughs as we were waved past. We might have still been free, but it had stung nevertheless.
    I shifted on the uncomfortable matting where I lay between two large ceramic pots. I was just drifting off when I heard whispered words. I couldn’t catch the meaning, just the tone of urgency.
    Then I heard Seven Skull Shield say, “My deal is with your son. What you’re suggesting is a betrayal of trust.”
    “I’m offering value for value.”
    Father’s voice!
    I sat up, tilting my head to listen.
    “Value for value?” Seven Skull Shield asked skeptically.
    Father told him a reasonable voice, “You have my word. Whatever it takes. Whatever it costs me. The value of the copper falcon—”
    “Better be worth more than your life.”
    I listened through a long pause, hearing a mouse rustling somewhere in the corner. The darkness seemed like a weight.
    Pus and blood, tell me that Father isn’t going to break our bond!
    Finally Seven Skull Shield said, “For your son’s sake, I’ll pretend this conversation never happened.”
    I listened for more, only to hear the silence stretch, and to brood over the tone of Seven Skull Shield’s voice: it had been laced with a curious sadness, as if he were somehow deeply disappointed.
    *****
    “You’re not planning on double-crossing Seven Skull Shield, are you?” I hissed into Father’s ear as we took a beaten trail down to the riverbank. The place Seven Skull Shield had led us to was some distance south of the canoe landing. Through a screen of weeds I could see the broad river, its surface pale where it reflected the cloud-covered sky.
    The day was gloomy, threatening rain and chill.
    Father shot a glance at the rogue’s broad back, a quiver of smile playing at his lips. “And if I were?”
    “I’ll not have it. I gave my word.”
    “He’s a thief and a commoner. The kind of flotsam that pollutes any body of still water.”
    “We’re Four Winds Clan, of Copper Falcon Town. We swore an oath. It doesn’t matter to whom.”
    The look he gave me was unsettling, as if I’d touched something deep down inside him. I thought for an instant that tears would well in his eyes; then I watched him rein in his emotions until they were choked down tight.
    “You know what the copper falcon means to me? To our family? It’s a symbol of who we are as men, and who we came from.”
    “Seven Skull Shield has fulfilled his bargain, ruffian that he might be. Father, sometimes honor and family means sacrifice, giving up the most important things in the world.”
    My words struck him like a physical blow, and I watched him steady himself. He swallowed hard, nodded, and I could see new resolve stiffening inside him.
    “Then you will understand the lengths I’m willing to go to.” He took a breath. “What giving up the falcon means to me.”
    “We will keep the deal, Father.”
    He said sadly, “If I’m lucky, one day you will understand.”
    “You will keep the deal with Seven Skull Shield?”
    “On my honor.” He uttered the words with such sad sincerity it almost broke my heart.
    Reassured, I could see five of Seven Skull Shield’s men where they stood on the bank. They looked like inconsequential sorts. Dressed in brown hemp hunting shirts, they might have been local fishermen. They greeted Seven Skull Shield with cries and slaps on the back. The thief returned the gesture, whispering something into their ears as he embraced each man. The