The Falconer's Stairs

1. Rebuilding

1

Rebuilding

The sound of hammering rang out clearly, overwhelming the other, softer noises of the valley. Although, truth be told, there were not many other noises to drown out.

The valley, all the way up to the small cove where a party of men were busily at work constructing a modest structure, was filled with char and wreckage. Burnt stumps and charred limbs were all that remained of the forest that once stood here, between Tollard's Peak and the brisk current of the Northflow, thanks to a band of wicked men.

The destruction had been complete, but even as men were now rebuilding, so the forest was as well. Grass and bushes had grown where the evergreens once had been, and saplings could be seen here and there, poking up through the underbrush. In a few years, the place would almost be as it was.

Almost.

Julian Hinderbrook looked away from the remnants of the forest and back toward the construction project, and memories flowed into him from the desperate few days he had spent up here last winter, trying to evade Geoff's band of robbers and get back to town with his party's skins intact. The hunting lodge that had stood here had been their shelter for the night, and then later Geoff had tried to use it as a weapon against them by burning it down, and lighting the entire forest ablaze at the same time.

Holb, and a number of woodsmen who frequented his tavern, had built that lodge and used it during the warm months. They had lost a lot of money and effort when the lodge burned down.

And it was all Tolburt's fault. If he hadn't led Geoff's accomplice into these mountains in search of treasure, the rest of the bandit party wouldn't have followed. And then…

Intellectually, Julian knew it wasn't fair to blame Tolburt for what happened. Not all of it, anyway.

But Tolburt had earned Julian's scorn through deeds a thousand times worse than those, so he didn't feel too bad about it.

Standing beside Julian, Raedrick Baletier, his friend and fellow Constable, crossed his arms over his chest. Like Julian, he was dressed down to his shirtsleeves on account of the growing heat of early summer and he wore their badge of office on his left breast: a silver fist holding a set of scales. Unlike Julian, who was wearing white, Raedrick's shirt was a deep blue. His khaki-colored breaches were tucked into black boots, and he wore a curved sword on his left hip. As always, his shoulder-length black hair was tied back into a ponytail at the nape of his neck, and his goatee was freshly trimmed.

As he surveyed the scene, Raedrick rubbed at his chin with the fingers of his left hand and frowned thoughtfully. "Seems like a lot of extra effort to rebuild here. Why not further upstream, past where the fire burned?"

He was right. The construction crew had a system set up to minimize the inconvenience of having to trek upstream more than a half mile to get good timber, but all the same that added a lot of time and effort to the rebuilding.

Despite that, the lodge was proceeding nicely. Already the stilts that held the living area aloft over the flood-prone ground on the edge of the little cove were in place, and the main structure looked to be completed in just a few days, from the look of it.

It also looked like they had taken the opportunity to expand on the earlier structure, make it bigger and nicer.

Not a bad idea, that.

"No better spot on the river to dock boats," said the man to Raedrick's right. Shorter than both Julian and Raedrick, bald, and powerfully muscled, he wore worn leathers that had clearly seen many days out in the wild, and smelled the part. "That, and we like that little cove." He grinned broadly. "Good fishing."

Julian also grinned. He got what Povol was saying. Just because some bad guys tried to make him leave, no reason he should.

"Your boy's doing alright," Povol added. "Been a big help."

That wiped the grin from Julian's face. He didn't trust himself to not say something nasty, so he kept his mouth shut and just watched the construction efforts.

A tall, thin man with a mop of black hair and a close-cut beard, in particular, held Julian's attention. He was stripped to the waist in the early summer heat, and was helping another man maneuver a particularly lengthy piece of wood into place.

From the no-so-softly spoken curses coming from them as they worked, it wasn't going particularly smoothly.

"Holb told me similar about his work at the bar," Raedrick said, a certain satisfaction in his voice as he, too, observed Tolburt's labors. "Do you consider his debt paid, then?"

Julian looked back at Povol out of the corner of his eye, and saw the mountain man's lips compress into a scowl. He flexed the fingers of his right hand—only three of them, thanks to an arrow from one of Geoff's men—and the scowl deepened.

But after a few seconds, Povol let his hand drop down to his side, and he made a quick, clearly reluctant nod. "Aye, I suppose. Soon as the lodge is rebuilt." He paused a second before adding, "He offered to help train my new dogs up, come next snow. You know that?"

Raedrick shook his head, and Povol snorted out a laugh.

"Not like he'd know how. But it was good of him to offer."

"Good to know." Raedrick gave a satisfied nod—disgustingly satisfied—and turned to regard Povol more fully. "Let us know if you need any more help up here?"

The mountain man grunted and nodded, but his expression said he would do no such thing. But then, that was his way.

"We'll be off then. We'd best get back; we have a meeting with the Mayor in the morning, and I don't want to be out too late tonight."

Povol grinned slyly. "You mean you don't want that bride of yours to be lonely in bed, eh?"

Raedrick did not reply, but Julian thought he flushed ever so slightly, and his lips turned downward.

Julian couldn't blame him for being cross. Povol was at best uninhibited in his speech, and some things just were not meant to be discussed in public. At least, not so crassly as that.

Povol seemed to notice Raedrick's disapproval, and his grin slipped a little. "Meanin' no disrespect to the Mistress of course, Constable."

Raedrick made a dismissive wave of his hand. "Good day, Povol."

"Aye, you as well."

The two clasped hands, and then Julian did the same with the mountain man. Then he and Raedrick left the construction site and walked over to the other side of the cove, where they had tied up their canoe.

During the spring thaw, the Northflow was a torrent of rapids between here and Lake Glimmermere, but now that it was getting on into summer, the current had subsided enough that the upstream trip was navigable. Good thing, too, because it would have take the better part of a day to hike here over the mountains.

Julian was just as happy to not have to deal with that.

As they approached the canoe, he asked something that had been irking him for a while now. "What's your plan with Tolburt now?"

Raedrick glanced sidelong at him and shrugged. "As far as I'm concerned, that's up to him."

Julian was afraid he'd say that. "You ask me," he said as he took hold of the boat's stern, "it's about time we sent him on his way."

Raedrick paused in climbing aboard to shoot Julian a look that said he was being obtuse before settling onto the little bench in the boat's bow and taking up his paddle.

"What? You want him to stay here?" Julian shoved the boat fully into the water, hopping into the stern a moment before it floated out of reach. He settled down on the stern bench, and started rowing in unison with Raedrick up forward. "We don't need his kind of trouble any longer than we have to."

"He's caused no trouble, and you heard Povol. He's earned the respect of many people in this town over the last few months."

Julian just snorted at that.

They left the shelter of the cove, and the Northflow's current nudged the bow downstream. Shortly, they were floating easily on the current, making good time toward the Lake, and then home in Lydelton.

"Well, when he causes mischief again, don't say I didn't warn you, Rae."

From the bow, Raedrick just shook his head and chuckled indulgently.