Legend of the Storm Hawks

Aleron’s Sons

Aleron’s Sons~

Sethlyan Callan

Camran Borderlands, Aleron

The chalyn is waiting for me in the garden, shaded beneath a rose trellis. They’ve been after me for years to recount what I recall of our beginnings.

I refused them until now. The memories were too raw and too easily bled anew.

But time is a healer, and remembering is the reason we gather. If remembering helps keep us watchful, I will tell it as best I can.

“The day I met Calum seems a fair place to start. It was the first of many times the tale might have ended poorly.”

“Because he might have disliked you?” she asks.

“Because I nearly killed him before he got the chance to make up his mind.”

“It’ll never catch on.” Aengus mimicked a Surdisi accent. “I say, good fellow. Stand still there while I take a shot at you. If I miss, you shall have a turn.”

“Not like that,” said Gaven. “A pistol duel would happen fast. Faster than swords. It would be about who shoots fastest and straightest.”

Seth yawned. Two days without sleep was making them both stupid.

“That’s not a duel,” Aengus scoffed. “Might as well have an archery contest. At least an arrow flies true. Ten paces out with a pistol, and you’re as likely to hit a man’s horse as him.”

“That’s it.” Gaven latched onto the notion. “Say you start back-to-back, walk out ten paces, turn, and fire. Now that would be a contest.”

Aengus laughed so hard he swayed in his saddle. Seth rolled his eyes at the notion of such polite rules being agreed upon by men disgruntled enough to be dueling one another to begin with. Gaven wasn’t the quickest pup in the litter.

“What if you both miss?” said Aengus. “Do you take a knee to reload and go again? Or toss the pistol and draw your sword as you should’ve from the start?”

“We’ll see who’s laughing in a few years,” said Gaven. “Pistols keep getting better. I’m telling you, it’ll make a better duel than louts flailing about with sharpened steel.”

Seth gave two short whistles. A collie responded, doubling back to collect a shaggy steer straggling behind the herd.

“Flailing? Is that what you call it?” Aengus was the master of indignation. “A swordsman’s skill is mere flailing because you think he should be holding a pretty little pistol instead? Seth, are you awake, man? Tell him he’s an idiot.”

Seth stretched until he got a satisfying pop between his shoulders. He was tired. His horse was tired. The dogs were tired. He grunted irritation at being dragged into their inane debate.

“Agree with me, and I won’t have to prove you wrong,” said Gaven.

“Agree with you, and we’ll both be wrong,” said Aengus.

“You two couldn’t agree to your own names.” Seth rode to tighten the herd’s loose left flank. A collie bounded ahead, following his intent. “Pick up the pace,” he called. “We’ve been gone longer than we should’ve.”

A hundred or so long-coated mountain cows ambled in the general direction of Dundarien, covering the rugged grazing land north of Gaven’s home at an unhurried pace. A few black coats dotted the otherwise red herd. Ear nicks identified most as Buchanan cattle, repatriated from Clan Camran in the dark of night, though a few Camran brands were scattered in here and there. Not surprising, given the rather fluid definition of cattle ownership along clan borders.

“Riders,” Gaven shouted.

Seth checked over his shoulder. Gaven gestured toward the rocky foothills they’d left behind. Seth couldn’t make out so much as a speck. Maybe dust rising in the distance? But Gaven’s eyesight was sharper than anyone’s, so he clicked Gambit around.

“Camran colors.” Gaven shaded his eyes. “Seven riding hard. Gaining ground quick.”

“Evens the odds,” said Aengus. “You take one out with your pistol. Seth and I will dispatch the other six with our swords.”

Seth scanned the hills. Losing cows he’d given up sleep and comfort to retrieve was an annoying prospect.

“Let’s get the herd to the valley,” he said. “They’ll give up the chase once Dundarien’s towers have us in sight.”

“They’ll be on us before we make it that far.” Gaven squinted.

“So we move faster.” Aengus drew a flintlock and pointed it skyward. “There’s something this overpriced noisemaker is good for.”

“Give the cows a good run. There’s an idea worth your breath,” said Seth.

“Stampede!” Gaven whooped.

They spread out behind the meandering herd and whistled the collies into place. Seth took off at a canter around the left flank as Aengus veered off to the right. Gaven waved the signal. The thunderclap of three silver pistols echoed over the shaggy heads.

A few startled beasts broke into a trot. Gaven reloaded and fired again. Seth and Aengus cracked whips along the edge of the herd. More cows broke into a run. Collies barked and nipped the legs of the complacent. Instinct spread like sparks over kindling, and in under a minute, a wave of cattle was rolling up the hill.

Sons of Aleron, they’d grown up tending herds. Riding, roping, and working collies came naturally. That usually meant long, dusty hours of monotony. Once in a great while, though, thrill sprang from tedium. Running a herd could get any Hawk’s pulse racing.

The cows tore up the ground between the first hill and the next, higher ridge. Gambit swerved when a wild-eyed steer bolted from the flank. Seth debated sending the collies after the straggler. No, he’d let the Camrans have one for their trouble.

“Heeeough, now. Heough.” Seth shouted above the din.

He rode into a cloud of dust and wiped grit from his eyes. The Camrans had probably reached the first hill by now, but the herd was already rumbling up the ridge. Across the sea of shaggy heads and horns, Aengus whooped and pumped his fist in the air.

Their stampede crested the ridge like thundering surf, and the first cows sank from sight. The herd would keep running until the River Alsa corralled it in the valley below. Dundarien’s walls guarded the River Alsa’s far banks, so the castle was in no danger from a hundred cows on the run. Half the herd had disappeared over the ridge by the time Seth crested the top.

“Well, damn.”

Their stampede was bearing down on a column of travelers on the narrow road below. The river’s safety was too far away.

Your blunder to fix, boy.

Seth tensed and willed his horse to dredge up what speed he had left. Gambit surged ahead. Seth raced headlong for the front of the herd, trusting Aengus and Gaven to cut around the flanks behind him.

The travelers caught on to the danger and set their horses galloping. Sentries in the guard tower started the drawbridge lowering.

Seth’s whistles shrilled above the rumble of hooves. His quickest dog sprinted ahead, and the others followed. The tenacious collies worked to his commands, darting between flying hooves, and biting at legs and shanks. Seth gained ground on the big bull leading the herd.

Turn, bull. Turn!

A lone rider broke away from the travelers and charged toward the stampede. Seth got the distance he needed ahead of the bull and reined in hard. The rider rode up beside him, shouldered a musket, and fired towards the herd. Seth reared Gambit and cracked his whip. They steadied their horses in the stampede’s path.

Turn, you stubborn beast! Damn you, turn!

The big bull veered sharply. The herd veered after him like a school of fish. One by one, panicked cows slowed to a trot, dispersing across the expanse of grazing land, docile and harmless once again.

Seth wiped sweat and faced the man who’d stood his ground beside him. The rider’s pale hair hung in a braid down his back, exposing the cat-like stripes on his neck. It’s a rare day when a nene charging at you with musket turns out well.

“That was a bit too close, wasn’t it?” Seth offered his hand. “Sethlyan Callan. Thanks for your help.”

Amusement crinkled the nene’s yellow-green eyes. Wordlessly, he shook Seth’s hand. Then he turned back for the drawbridge where the last travelers were making their way across.

Aengus and Gaven came riding up. Rusty trotted over with his tongue lolling out and flopped down across Seth’s boots.

“Good boy.” He scratched the collie’s head. “You did well.”

“What a ride!” Aengus thumped him on the back. “That was some fine herding, Callan.”

“The Camrans b-broke off the chase.” Gaven’s anxious stutter slowed him. “But the blue b-banners…”

“Don’t tell me,” said Seth. “Iverach.”

“You nearly trampled your new in-laws?” Aengus laughed. “Brilliant way to introduce yourselves, my friends.”

Seth cringed. Their ill-timed return had made an excellent first impression on the Rhi’Iverach.

“You’re enjoying this.” Gaven frowned at Aengus.

“Immensely.”

“We’d best go make apologies,” said Seth.

Exhausted, abashed, and dreading what his father would say, Seth was in no hurry to face the accounting that awaited them. They stopped at the riverbank to let the dogs and horses drink. As the collies waded out into the river, Seth’s thoughts crept back to the warning that set the sorry mess in motion.

Gaven sensed the Camrans before even his keen eyesight could’ve spotted them. It wasn’t the first time he’d come away with the sense something inexplicable hovered just beyond his reach. Seth had a knack with the collies, sure. He was good with horses. When he set his mind to it, beasts did what he wanted of them. Even simpleminded cows did, eventually. Every time.

“Stop smirking,” said Gaven. “This is your fault.”

“Me?” said Aengus. “I didn’t get a hundred cows running by myself.”

Seth left them bickering and climbed back on his horse. They caught up to him as he crossed the drawbridge.

Dundarien crouched at the foot of Mount Yonah, the tallest peak in the Redmists. Long ago, the first Aurels climbed its heights and laid claim to all they could see. Centuries later, the ancient stronghold sprawled along the River Alsa’s banks and scaled a quarter of Mount Yonah’s face. Grey turrets with dark slate roofs punctuated castellated curtain walls. Behind those walls, a self-sufficient community thrived, a small city in its own right.

They stopped in the courtyard, left their horses with stablehands, and climbed the granite steps to Dundarien’s great hall.

“Going in with us?” Gaven caught Aengus’ arm. “You’re already auctioned off to Lady Seara.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for all the silver in Monaughty. My betrothal was downright dull by comparison. Maybe I’ll consider inviting a herd of cows to the wedding party. Might liven things up.”

Seth stopped before the iron-banded doors and squared his shoulders.

“Our brothers are never going to let us live this down.”

“It’s the advantage of being second sons. Everyone expects less of us.” Aengus shrugged. “Why disillusion them?”

Chapter 5