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Tor ordered everyone to lower their weapons. Reluctantly they obeyed. At a signal from the man who had done most of the talking, the majority of those dressed in black disappeared from view, concealing themselves once more in the surrounding landscape, until only the man and the woman remained.
Brodin looked up into the sky. Nightfall was still a few hours away. He was frustrated by the delay, but did not let his feelings show. “We might as well eat something,” he announced. He was not hungry, but experience had taught him to grab food whenever he could as he may not get another chance for a long time.
Oak started to head towards the trees. Their supplies were running low and he would need to forage for something edible. The man called out before he had taken more than a few steps. “Where do you think you are going?”
“To look for food,” Oak informed him.
“My people can take care of that. None of you are to go anywhere.” He whistled twice and half a dozen of the black clad strangers appeared. They were given their orders and departed, returning a short time later with baskets filled with loaves of bread, fresh vegetables and fruit and a whole leg of ham.
“We also need firewood,” Seth said, just before two of those sent off appeared, their arms filled with sticks and small logs. After a quick debate, the decision was made to eat the food cold. Oak preferred his vegetables raw anyway.
“Will you join us?” Nosmas enquired. Those who delivered the food shook their heads and removed themselves from sight once more, but the woman looked towards the man, awaiting his response.
“Why not,” he said and sat on the ground next to the fire, the woman positioning herself beside him. They both sat erect, hands close to their weapons.
Cirren decided that, as they were forced to spend time with these people, he may as well try to get to know them. “So what do we call you?” he asked.
“You do not need to know our names,” the woman said in an even tone. Cirren was desperate to know how old she was, but her face covering hid everything. She sounded young, but voices could be deceiving.
“I have to call you something,” he protested. “I am Cirren. Prince Cirren of Remeny to be precise.” She did not seem impressed. “These are my brothers, Tor and Brodin.” The two men nodded when he pointed to them.
The man began to shift uncomfortably. “I did not realise Hawk had fallen in with such noble company,” he said. “I sincerely wish I did not have to kill you.” Ignoring the comment, Cirren introduced the rest of his companions, none of whom looked comfortable sharing a meal with their captors. He handed a slice of bread topped with ham to the woman, hoping she would remove her veil to eat. She did not oblige him, managing to move the food under the cloth without raising it high enough to reveal any of her features.
The man saw the disappointed look on Cirren’s face and chuckled. “You may call us Falcon and Eaglet,” he said, taking pity on the young Prince. “These are not, obviously, our real names.”
Taking this as a good sign, Ria decided to join in the conversation. “If you will not tell us anything about yourself, will you at least let us know what that poor man did to deserve such a horrendous punishment?”
Eaglet sucked in her breath sharply. “That is another thing you do not need to know,” Falcon replied in an unfriendly tone.
“Actually,” Modo said, “I think we do. If we are to die for almost helping him, we have the right to know why.”
Falcon seemed to consider this for a moment. “You may be right,” he finally said. Eaglet stared at him. Modo could not see her eyes, but imagined them glaring angrily. Falcon did not meet her gaze, keeping his eyes towards Modo and those seated near him as he continued. He kept his tone calm and even as he spoke. “The man you almost helped is guilty of murdering his wife and her lover. He caught them together, knocked the man unconscious by striking him hard across the head with a shovel, then tied up his wife so she could watch him bludgeon him to death. Then he slit her throat.”
“Why did you not allow the local baron to take care of his punishment?” Tor enquired.
Falcon and Eaglet both grunted in disgust. “The man is the Baron’s brother. He was tried and found not guilty,” she spat.
“You seem to be taking this very personally,” Patrick observed.
Eaglet stared at him, then dropped her gaze. “The man who died was my brother,” she said quietly.
“We are very sorry for your loss,” Brodin murmured, “but how can you be so certain that the man is guilty. I understand that the Baron was biased, but if there was enough evidence for you to be sure he deserved such a horrific punishment, then the court would have found him guilty. There would have been public outcry otherwise.”
He could have been mistaken, but Brodin thought Falcon grimaced. “Our evidence was not permitted at the trial.”
“May we enquire why not?” Brodin continued to push for answers.
“It is forbidden,” Eaglet hissed at Falcon before he could answer.
He sighed loudly. “They are going to die anyway, so why does it matter?” Eaglet was clearly unhappy, but fell silent. All eyes were on Falcon as everyone in the camp awaited his explanation. “Some of our members are magicians and sorcerers. One of the many forms of magic we study is necromancy.”
Nosmas inhaled sharply. “That is not magic,” he stated. “It is an abomination against all life and should be outlawed.” He looked towards Tor. “I will not listen to this.” He got up and walked towards the trees. Falcon whistled sharply and two of his black clad people appeared. With a few swift hand movements he instructed them to follow Nosmas, but not make him return until he was ready. When they disappeared from view he continued.
“Some of us, myself included, have the ability to bring the dead back to life for a short period of time. We are able to ask them questions, which they always answer truthfully. It seems that the dead cannot lie. We have a limited amount of time in which we can do this. If the person has been dead for more than a few hours then our spells will not work.”
“So how did you get to the murder scene so quickly?” Falcon’s openness and honesty was making everyone feel more at ease and Quartilla felt brave enough to start asking questions.
“The murder scene, as you put it, was my house. The man who died, as well as being Eaglet’s brother, was my son.”
Silence greeted this statement. Nobody knew what to say. Eaglet finished the story for her father. “Once we got over the horror of the scene before us, we revived my brother first. He told us everything he knew. He never regained consciousness after the initial blow so all he could tell us was who had entered the room. The woman was much more helpful. She described everything in great detail. We know exactly what happened but have no way of proving it, hence we are inflicting our own justice on the murderer.”
It was Sam who spoke first. “I’m sorry,” she said quietly. “I misjudged you. I too would have done exactly the same thing in your position.” ‘Like I did with Illen,’ she thought to herself.
“I have to disagree,” Seth announced. “What you have done to that man is revenge not justice.”
“On the contrary,” Falcon contradicted. “We have simply enacted the punishment that fits the crime, according to our history. The murderer would have suffered the same fate whoever he had killed. The fact that one of the victims was related to us is irrelevant.”
Further discussion was halted by the sound of a coffin lid sliding open. While they had been talking the sun had set, but everyone had been too engaged to notice. Hawk flew into the air, landing neatly by the fire. He saw the two figures dressed in black and his shoulders visibly sagged. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath.
“Good to see you Hawk,” Falcon said amiably.
“Falcon,” Hawk replied. He did not sound happy to see the man. He looked towards the woman sitting beside him. “Eaglet.” She nodded her head in response, though she could not keep still, as though she wanted to jump up and hit him.
Hawk turned to his friends. “Everyone, I would like to introduce you to my brother and niece.”
No longer able to contain herself, Eaglet jumped to her feet, ran to Hawk and jumped into his outstretched arms. “I have missed you so much Uncle Hawk,” she cried, her voice filled with tears of joys. “We thought you were dead.”
“I missed you too.” His voice was also filled with emotion, more emotion than Sam had ever known him show. He gently lowered his niece to the ground then regarded his brother. “Have the decency to show your face. Nobody here knows you and all can be trusted.”
Falcon paused for a moment, then unwrapped the cloth from around his head, indicating to his daughter that she should do the same. His face revealed him to be older than Sam had been expecting. His short grey hair, which was neatly cropped at the nape of his neck, matched his eyes. Though he had no beard or moustache, a small layer of stubble indicated he was overdue a shave. At first glance, he appeared nothing like Hawk, but on closer inspection the similarities became apparent. They had the same shaped eyes, though the colour was different, and the contour of the nose and cheek bones was almost identical.
Cirren’s face dropped in disappointment when Eaglet revealed herself. Though not unpleasant to look at, she was far from pretty. Middle age was rapidly approaching and it had placed its mark on her. Wrinkles were evident around her eyes and her short dark hair was dull and lifeless.
Sam was the first to realise what the introductions of Hawk’s family meant. “Hawk is more than just a nickname then,” she stated, remembering that Hawk had first introduced himself to her as Lord Haldon Hawkwing.
Hawk smiled at her. “Very good. My childhood friends all used to call me Hawk when I was young, but stopped using it when I came of age, so I took it as my codename when I joined the Shandar and adopted it as my name when I became a vampire. Use of my real name reminded me of my old life too much.”
“Does that mean that Falcon is also called Lord Hawkwing?” Sam enquired.
Hawk shook his head. “No. It is a hereditary title rather than a family name, handed down from father to son. I have not yet officially been declared dead, so Falcon cannot inherit it from me. I have not exposed the true names of either my brother or my niece to you. Though I left the Shandar a long time ago, I still abide by many of their rules, the first one of which is never to reveal your true identity or that of another member.”
“Why did you leave?” Eaglet suddenly asked him. “When you disappeared we all thought you were dead.”
Hawk looked at her closely before answering, debating whether she was ready to accept the truth or not. “Being a vampire makes you view things differently. Life becomes more sacred and worth preserving, not destroying. I was struggling to cope with my new life and found the punishments we were inflicting on people harder to stomach as the months went by.”
“Punishments you ordered,” Falcon interrupted angrily.
Hawk nodded. “That is the main reason I had to leave. I found I no longer had what it takes to be a leader. I needed to get away from what I was becoming.”
“You could have said goodbye.” Eaglet hurled the comment at him like an accusation.
“No, I could not. I do not expect you to understand, but saying goodbye was just too hard.”
Dal had been studying the two brothers during the conversation and asked a question that had been forming in her mind. “If Falcon is the elder, why were you leader and why do you have the title?”
Hawk gave a mirthless laugh. “Falcon is my younger brother, by quite a few years. I stopped aging at the same rate as humans when I became one of the undead. Eaglet was still a child when I left. She was barely up to my chest the last time I saw her.”
“This is all very touching,” Patrick said irritably, “but we have a quest to finish. Can we get this little family reunion over with so we can continue on our journey?”
“You are not going anywhere,” Falcon said harshly. “Your lives are forfeit, or had you forgotten.”
“No,” Hawk shouted out. “They did not give aid. They are free to go.”
“You remember the code,” Eaglet said, with a trace of regret. “They tried to help and that is enough to condemn them all.”
“I will not permit this,” Hawk said sternly. “This is one of the reasons I left. Parts of the code need to be changed. Too many innocents get hurt.”
“You are no longer in charge,” Falcon replied, his body tense. “You do not get a say in whether our laws should be followed or ignored.” Then he relaxed and smiled slightly. “However, under the circumstances, I do not think I have the authority to make that decision.” Eaglet and Hawk both looked at him sharply, barely able to believe what they were about to hear. “We will take them to headquarters.”
“Can’t you do something?” Dean asked Hawk. He could not help blaming the vampire for their predicament. Their first meeting had not been pleasant, nor easily forgotten, and he did not like Sam’s close friendship with him.
Hawk shook his head, ignoring the animosity with which the question was asked. “You are actually being shown a great honour,” he said. “To the best of my knowledge, nobody who is not a member has ever been to headquarters. Very few actual members ever go. Even I do not know who the current head of the order is.”
“We are not likely to get out alive then are we?” Seth muttered under his breath.
Tor sighed in resignation. “Where exactly is headquarters?” He wanted to know how far out of their way they would be going.
Hawk shrugged. “I can tell you where it used to be, but it has probably moved. Falcon?”
The reply shocked everyone. “Shelton Island.”
Tor and Brodin both braced themselves, ready for Patrick to explode. He had not reacted very well when it was revealed that they needed to travel to his personal island in order to get a clue for the quest. They expected his reaction to finding out the headquarters of a secret society was there to be dramatic. They were slightly disappointed when he remained seated.
“Why am I not surprised?” He sighed heavily.
Falcon looked questioningly at his brother, not understanding what the issue was.
“Patrick owns Shelton Island,” Hawk informed him.
Eaglet gasped. “You are that Patrick?” she asked.
Patrick wasn’t sure exactly what she meant by that comment, but nodded anyway. A feeling of foreboding settled in the pit of his stomach as she smiled at him. “This journey is going to be very interesting,” she said to nobody in particular.
“When can we get started?” Tor enquired. This meant a long delay in getting to their next destination and he wanted to get moving as soon as possible.
“As soon as you are ready,” Falcon replied. “I trust that if I allow you to keep your weapons you will make no attempt to escape.” Tor gave his promise, glaring at each member of his party in turn until they too solemnly swore to behave. The journey would be more bearable if they were not prisoners. Falcon whistled for one of his men to retrieve Nosmas, who had not returned, and extracted the same promise from the wizard. He also requested that he refrain from using any magic. When Nosmas started to protest, Falcon pointed out that it was not really a request, more like a demand. His additional comment that any trace of magic being used would result in Quartilla’s instant assassination was enough to make Nosmas comply.
Falcon and Eaglet disappeared into the trees and soon returned wearing more colourful clothing. They would be going on a long journey and, as they had revealed their faces, there was no need to stay in their black outfits. They no longer stood out and now seemed like two ordinary travellers. The other members of the Shandar would follow them, hidden from view. Falcon trusted the word of the Princes and their companions, but was not going to take any chances.
As the hours passed by, it was easy to forget that they had a death threat hanging over their heads and their destination may be the last place they would ever visit. They fell into their usual travelling routine and when the sun began to rise, they stopped to rest. No guard needed to be placed as they knew they were still surrounded by deadly assassins who would kill any enemy that approached.
Once more Sam began to dream. It was a bright sunny day and she was walking through a meadow; Dean was by her side. They were not holding hands, but their heads were close as they discussed something very personal. Finally he sighed.
“I am sorry Sam,” he said, his voice filled with regret, “but I just cannot forgive you. I have tried and tried to forget your betrayal, but I can’t. We can never be more than friends, not now.”
A tear trickled down his cheek as he spoke. “I thought we agreed to try again, to put our past behind us,” Sam said in a small voice.
“I know,” he replied. “But I just cannot get images of you with an elf out of my head. I swear to you, I have tried, but every time I look at you all I see is the baby that is growing inside you. I could never accept the child, therefore we can never be a couple again. Maybe if you got rid of it, that might help.”
Sam stepped away from him, placing a protective arm around herself. “How can you suggest such a thing?” she asked in horror. “You know I could never do that. Are you really asking me to choose between you and my baby?”
Dean looked down at the ground, trying to hide his embarrassment and shame. “Yes, I suppose I am.”
“Then I guess we really are through,” Sam said. Though it broke her heart to do it, she turned her back on Dean and started to walk away, praying that he would call her back. He didn’t.
As soon as she opened her eyes, all memory of her dream fled. She felt cold and alone, and an overwhelming desire to have Dean’s arms around her coursed through her. He lay next to her, as usual, but his back was turned to her. Though they regularly slept close to each other, she could not bring herself to fall asleep in his arms. They were not Brin’s and it still felt wrong. She pulled her body closer to his and slipped her arm around his waist. He was not in a deep sleep and roused enough to roll over, kiss her forehead and put his arm around her. Soon they were both asleep once more.
Sam found herself in the same meadow, though this time she was alone. A shadow fell over her and she looked up to see a large dragon fly overhead. She recognised the purple scales and waved in greeting. The dragon landed at the far end of the meadow and she raced to meet him.
“Gladrel,” she shouted when he was within earshot. “It is good to see you. How are you?” Gladrel had scared the skelk away from their home, thinking they were just mindless creatures that were good to eat. When Tor and his party found him and introduced him to an injured skelk, he had discovered that the skelk could talk and were able to communicate with him. He had promised to befriend them and help them return to their home.
“Hungry,” he replied.
“How are the skelk?” Sam enquired.
“Gone,” he said, licking his lips. “That is why I am hungry. I have eaten them all.”
“What?” Sam exclaimed. “But you promised to help them.”
“I lied.” Sam stared at the dragon, unable to comprehend what she was hearing. “And now I am going to eat you.” Sam’s scream as the dragon lunged at her was broken off as he bit her body in two.