blinked like a barn owl caught in lantern light. ‘Really?’ she said.
Caleb said nothing, merely inclining his head with a slight smile. The now-flustered miller’s wife muttered something under her breath, gave a pained smile, and hurried off.
Marie turned to Caleb and said, ‘Why did you do that?’
Caleb shrugged. ‘I remember how she annoyed you at the last Banapis festival. Besides, last year all I contributed was a brace of partridges and some rabbits.’
‘No, I meant why did you say we when you were the one who brought the ox and the wagon?’
Caleb said, ‘Well, because I brought them for you.’
Marie was silent for a moment before a small smile crossed her lips, but her eyes showed no humour. ‘I thank you for the gesture, Caleb.’
‘It was my pleasure,’ he said. ‘Now, shall I fetch bowls and a ladle?’
‘No,’ said Marie, her tone neutral. ‘I’ll return to the house and fetch them myself. You find the boys and make sure that they’re staying out of trouble, will you? I’m worried about them.’
He nodded, and moved away from the table. Making his way through the quickly gathering crowd, Caleb found himself both amused and surprised at the changes he had seen in the town since his childhood. Though his family had never lived in Stardock Town, they had visited it frequently.
Caleb’s father’s relationship with the ruling council of the Academy was strained, at best. Caleb had heard Pug complain about them frequently enough to fully understand the reasons behind the estrangement, but they were his father’s reasons, not his own. Magnus, his older brother, was a magician like their parents, but Caleb had been the odd child out – the one who possessed no magical ability at all.
The rest of his family viewed Stardock through a haze of political strife, but Caleb saw it simply as the place where he used to have fun as a child. In Stardock he had found children like himself – ordinary boys and girls who were concerned with ordinary things like growing up, learning to love, to hate and to forgive, trying to avoid work and finding playmates. All the day-in, day-out things that Caleb had never encountered before.
Caleb had benefited from his unusual upbringing in many ways. Much of Caleb’s childhood had been spent attending tedious classes designed for students with magical ability. Only now could he see the wisdom in this, for unlike most people without ability, he could at least sense the presence of magic. And, as the most powerful enemies facing the Conclave of Shadows were magicians, Caleb counted this ability as a good thing.
The children of Sorcerer’s Isle, and even those he lived with on the island in the Great Star Lake, were caught up in magic – even their play involved it, often to the annoyance of their teachers. For most of his childhood, Caleb had been a solitary child. While he was a good runner and as adept with a ball as any boy his age, he often stood alone, watching others play the games of illusion in which he could never partake, except as the object of a cruel child’s joke. His possessions often moved away when he reached for them, or items suddenly appeared to trip him up without warning.
The wounds of childhood were, at times, the deepest. As he grew, Caleb became less isolated from the other children, as their interests shifted from one thing to another. But even when he was at the heart of the mischief, he still felt different.
There had been only two places where Caleb had felt free and at peace as a child. In his tenth summer, he had been taken to Elvandar, where he lived with the elves for five years.
Caleb had learnt as much as he could of elven ways, and had been tutored in the sword by the Queen’s consort, Lord Tomas, Warleader of Elvandar, and was taught the use of the bow by Prince Calin and his half-brother Prince Calis. Although Caleb lacked the natural skill of Talwin Hawkins with the sword, he excelled as an archer. Both Tomas and Prince Calin had often remarked that Caleb was the equal of a man named Martin Longbow, who they claimed had been the finest human archer ever known to the elves.
Caleb knew the elves were not prone to flattery, so he took the compliment as a mark of his achievement for long, hard hours of practice. It had taught him that even an impossible goal could be reached if enough effort and sacrifice was made. He also realized ruefully that the elves had never seen Talwin Hawkins shoot; he was undoubtedly Caleb’s equal, if not his better. Though, being the second finest human archer was still no mean feat.
Caleb held deep affection for the elves and their magical home in Elvandar, and he could speak their language well. But it was in Stardock that he had learnt his first lessons about being ordinary.
He made his way through the bustling town square. If previous festivals were any indication, the boys would now be with the other youngsters near the fountain.
He acknowledged greetings from many of those he passed, for they were the same children he had played with thirty years earlier. Some of the men had grown stout and others had grey in their hair – if they still had hair. The women whom he had known when they were girls had matured, and those who hadn’t got fat, had the gaunt, lean look of too much hard work and not enough rest. A few, like Marie, had kept their looks despite the rigours of parenthood and farming.
But today they all looked reasonably happy, for it was the harvest festival, and if what adorned the table was any indication, it had been a bountiful year. Grain wagons would creak up the roads towards the Bitter Sea and barges would make their way from the great Star Lake downriver to the Sea of Dreams and the trading docks at Shamata or Landreth. Cattle in the field were fat for the winter and the sheep looked healthy as their new wool grew in for the colder season. Everywhere he looked, Caleb saw signs of bounty: barrels of freshly picked apples, baskets of berries, cherries, and figs, all manner of vegetable, and at every farm he had passed, he had seen more chickens and pigs than he could imagine.
He remembered other years when the harvest had been poor, or the times after the troll raids and he acknowledged silently to himself that these people were entitled to a little celebration of their good fortune. Winters were mild in the Vale of Dreams, snow having fallen only once in fifty years, and already farmers were planting winter crops that would grow nowhere else. By the time the autumn traders returned from the Kingdom and Great Kesh, with wagons of tools and other necessary items, the second crop would be ready to feed the demand for fresh food in the frozen north. Compared to most farming communities, Stardock was wealthy, but even here a farmer’s lot was not an easy one. Caleb pushed his musings aside as he turned the corner and spotted the boys. He had taken only one step before he realized trouble was about to erupt.
Ellie stood up and said, ‘If you two don’t stop this right now, I’m leaving.’
The two to whom she referred were Tad and Zane, who stood confronting one another, ready to resume the brawling. The lithe girl positioned herself between them and started pushing them apart with surprising determination. This caused both boys to hesitate and gave Caleb just enough time to reach them and ask, ‘What is the problem?’
Both boys glanced at Caleb, then locked gazes again. Ellie gave them a final shove. She said, ‘These idiots have decided that it’s important which one of them has the first dance with me.’
‘You promised me!’ shouted Tad, only a half-second before Zane echoed the claim.
Caleb lost his smile. The musicians had gathered near the ale casks and were tuning their instruments. In a moment they’d start playing, and the boys would start fighting. ‘Your mother asked me to keep an eye on you.’
