Chapter Three: Friends and Enemies

... Calmando delves into the past while his friends uncover secrets

Calmando made his way back into the cave.  It was not so dark inside, now that the storm had eased up; but the rains had left the cliffs muddied and slippery and huge puddles now dotted the sandy paths where the occasional merchants’ donkey parts passed on their way to the Great Market.  Memories of the huge hive of activity that was the Great Market suddenly flooded Calmando’s thoughts the way the recent storm had just flooded the Desert of Medero.  He had been to the market just once, when he was seven.  He had gone with his father and uncles and he would never forget the tents, merchants, goods, people and animals all crowded into a huge field.  And the noise!  It seemed everyone was shouting that day.  Calmando shook his head.  He did not like shouting of any kind which was why he so admired Falcon Eye.  The master could command respect, loyalty and awe and yet he never raised his voice.  The young man was about to step over a rock when,

“Hey, has the storm passed?  I thought I told you to wake me up when it did!”  The hermit’s voice cut into Calmando’s musings like a rusty hatchet into a log. 

The hermit stood on a ledge above Calmando.  He was bleary eyed still and was rubbing his belly.

“Is there any stew left?” he asked the young man.

“I’m afraid not.  We finished it all.”  Calmando eyed the hermit a little suspiciously as the old man made his way down to where the farmer’s son was standing.

“Don’t look at me like that, sonny,” the hermit said, as he bent down and looked inside the empty pot of stew, “it’s not my fault that you’re stuck in the middle of the Medero Desert.  I didn’t send you on some wild goose chase.  If you want someone to blame, blame that old stick in the mud master of yours.”

This was too much for the farmer’s son.  He was used to being treated with contempt; he and the rest of the students in the school had often been treated shabbily by Laoakan and they had never complained.  It was part of their training, the assistant had said, they would learn humility.  But Falcon Eye himself had always treated each of the students in his school with respect and kindness.  Now to hear this dirty, smelly creature speak so disrespectfully of his beloved master was intolerable.  Calmando grabbed the hermit’s thin shoulders and almost lifted him off the ground.

“I will not have anyone, especially a dirty old windbag like you, disrespect Falcon Eye.  Believe me, hermit, I may have learned patience and tolerance from the master, but he also told me that there is a limit to everything, and I have reached mine with you.  Now, tell me who you are and how you came to know about me,” Calmando’s voice was soft but his eyes had turned to the color of hard steel.

The hermit put up his hands.

“Alright, alright,” he pleaded, “I was just teasing you, Calmando.  I’ve been on my own for so long, I’ve forgotten how to be civil.  Come on, put me down, I’ll even apologize to Falcon Eye when I see him at the next full moon.”

“You’ve seen the master recently?” Calmando was surprised.

“Of course, of course,” the old man sighed in relief as the young man let go of him, “I told you, we go a long way back.”

As Calmando put him down, the hermit made a great show of straightening his tattered coat; he pulled the sleeves down and adjusted the worn out cuffs.

“Magdalo, at your service,” he said, holding out a thin and dirty hand to the farmer’s son, “abject recluse, unwilling hermit and weaver of intrigue.”

“Those are despicable traits to boast about, Master Magdalo,” Calmando replied, shaking the hermit’s hand, “have you nothing more noble to be proud of?”

“Oh yes.  I am also brother to Falcon Eye,” Magdalo answered.

 

 

 

It was a full hour after the evening meal when Falcon Eye heard a knock on his study door.  He put the parchment he had been reading down and made his way to the door.

“Falcon Eye,” Laoakan bowed slightly when the old master opened the door, “I know I’m late but I couldn’t get away from all the chores, you know, the cooking, the cleaning up, the…”

The old teacher raised a hand, “All of which you hand down to the students to do, leaving you with plenty of time to pursue other interests, Laoakan.  No…,” as the assistant was about to speak, “I know it is true.  I may be old and my eyes may be tired, but I am not blind.”

“We need more hands to do the chores, Falcon Eye,” the assistant interjected, “there is only so much that I can do and as I said this morning, I…I’m not as young anymore.”

“I know we are short-handed, Laoakan, and I am aware that the school needs more funding.”

“We wouldn’t be counting each and every penny, Falcon Eye, if you had listened to me and taken the handsome donation the governor’s son was offering.”

“And be beholden to him?”

“We needed that money, Falcon Eye!  There are servants and bills that must be paid, food that must be bought, livestock to feed, grains that must be planted.  All of these cost money, Falcon Eye.  You may not worry about it, but I do!” Laoakan blurted out.

“Do you think that I am not aware of the burden I have placed upon you all these years, Laoakan?” Falcon Eye asked quietly.

Laoakan took a small step closer to the master.  He felt a sudden twinge of fear as his thoughts began to race " there was a tone to Falcon Eye’s voice that made him uneasy; had the old fool found out?  Had something or someone given him away?  He cleared his throat.

“Forgive me, master.  I was just…worried about the…stock of rice and corn, there might not be enough to last till the next harvest.”

The hesitation in Laoakan’s voice was not lost on the old teacher.  He closed his eyes briefly, then he turned back to his desk.  He picked up the parchment he had been reading and held it out to his assistant.   Laoakan reached for the letter.

“What do you make of that, Laoakan?”

The assistant’s eyes were busily scanning the letter.  Maybe there was something in this letter that had given him away.  But it seemed innocent enough.  It was just an official document with all the seals and signatures of the governor’s office.  Nothing mysterious or revealing seemed to be written on it.  He handed the parchment back to Falcon Eye.

“It’s a letter from the governor, master, informing us that his term is due to end in a month’s time.”

“And at the end of the month, Lemuel will be leaving us, is that not so?” Falcon Eye was looking at Laoakan rather intently.

“Yes, but I don’t see how any of this concerns us.”

“You did not read the end of the document, Laoakan.  It seems as if the governor intends to nominate Lemuel for the position.”

Laoakan stared at Falcon Eye, not wanting to believe what he had heard.

“But his son…I thought he was to nominate his son…”

“The governor’s son was killed in a hunting accident four days ago.”

 

 

 

Lemuel was ramming clothes into a small rucksack when he heard a soft knocking at his door.  The governor’s nephew threw the bag under his bed, then hastily covered the garments on his bed with a sheet.  He opened the door nervously, but breathed a sigh of relief when he saw Mariquita standing by the door.

“What’s wrong, Lemuel?”

He did not answer, instead he reached under the bed, pulled out the bag and started putting clothes in it again.

“You’re leaving, too, aren’t you?  Do you intend to go after Calmando?”

“You know I must, Mariquita, after what I heard at the stables this morning…”

“But what did you hear, Lemuel?  You may have imagined it all.”

“Oh no, Mariquita, I did not.  I heard it. Laoakan was talking to one of my uncle’s men, I’m sure of it.  They intend to hunt Calmando down.  I have to warn him.”

Mariquita knew she could not stop Lemuel.  When the three of them first arrived at the school, Lemuel was just a boy.  True, he had been tall for his age and being the governor’s nephew, one might think that the title would give him certain privileges or at least a little respect, but the young Lemuel was retiring and painfully shy and some of the older boys began to pick on him.  Laoakan, the assistant had encouraged the bullying.  One day, they forced Lemuel to go down into the unused well at the back of the stables, and had left him there.  The governor’s nephew spent the whole day chest deep in the dirty fetid water and would have spent the night there, too, had Calmando not heard his cries for help.  Mariquita helped the farmer’s son to get Lemuel out of the well.  The next morning, Calmando challenged the ring leader to a fight and the bully was so badly beaten that he spent two days in bed.  Falcon Eye started an inquiry into the matter and the truth was soon revealed.  The unfortunate ring leader was expelled and the other boys severely admonished.  It was only his skillful lying that saved Laoakan, but Mariquita knew that Calmando had made an enemy in the assistant as well as a life-long friend in the governor’s nephew.  

“Wait for me,” Mariquita said, “I’m coming with you.”

 

 

 

Blackness had once again descended on the Medero, but this time it was the dark of evening that surrounded Calmando as he made his way up the cliff side.  When he reached the top, he saw the vast horizon of the desert night before him.  He suddenly remembered the times when he, Mariquita and Lemuel had looked out at the same expanse from the school balcony; how each of them would talk of what they would do when they left Falcon Eye’s care, their dreams of making the world " what was Mariquita’s favorite phrase? Ah, yes, making the world not better - but theirs.  He smiled at the thought.

“Hey, I need help here!” The raspy voice of the hermit broke the quiet of the desert night, “my knees are shot and I can’t see a thing!”

Calmando helped Magdalo up the ledge.

“Thanks, sonny.  I thought you were going to let me fall back there.”

The thought had entered Calamando’s mind several times that afternoon.  He could not fully understand why the hermit had insisted on coming along, but the old man had let on that Falcon Eye would have never turned away a willing companion, so the farmer’s son had agreed.

Magdalo rubbed his tender back then sat on a nearby rock.

“If you ask me, this is a good place to camp put for the night.  This cliff side behind us keeps us safe from the chill of the south wind and the ledge above us will keep us dry, not that there’s a lot of dampness in the Medero, eh?” he said, winking at the young man.

Calmando wanted to say that he had not asked for any advice, but the old windbag was right.  He nodded and sat down beside Magdalo.

“Now,” the young man said quietly, “tell me everything, hermit.”