Chapter Six: The Alliance Grows

.... the assistant sets more than a fire

“I’m sorry, Calmando,” Mariquita whispered as she saw the farmer’s son wince.  She was cleaning his wounds as gently as she could, but the gashes the wolf’s teeth and claws had left on the young man’s body were deep and she knew he was in pain.

“They look bad, but they’re not serious, my dear,” the hermit said, pouring hot water into a small basin.  “Bloody and no doubt, painful, but superficial…and very survivable, right, Calmando?” he added, winking at the farmer’s son.

Calmando nodded to the old man, then turned and smiled gently at Mariquita.

“Magdalo is right, Mariquita.  Do what you must and I promise I will not budge…nor wince.”

The mayoress’ daughter bit her lower lip and nodded.  

She dipped the small towel into the basin and then pressed it gently onto a deep gash on Calmando’s arm.  True to his word, the farmer’s son did not move, although Mariquita could see the muscles beneath his skin tighten.

“Here, Mariquita, try a little of this salve, I think it’s stopped my cut’s bleeding,” Lemuel said, handing a small bottle to Mariquita.

“One of Falcon Eye’s concoctions, no doubt,” the hermit said, stoking the fire.

“Actually, it’s one of my own,” Lemuel answered.

The hermit looked at the governor’s son with interest. 

“Really?  Well, I hope you’re better at mixing potions than at brandishing sticks, my boy,” Magdalo said, “What were the two of you doing out in the Medero, unarmed, at night?”

“We were looking for Calmando,” the younger man answered, “we were in such a hurry to get away from Laoakan that we did not think of bringing any weapons.”

“And we never really believed Laoakan’s tall tales,” Mariquita added.

“Now you know differently,” the hermit said, heavily.

“That’s enough, Magdalo,” Calmando said, “We’ve all learned a lesson tonight and I’m sure no one here will dare venture into the Medero again, unprotected,”  he turned to Mariquita, “and you had better get some rest.”

Mariquita gently placed her hand over his.  It was only for a moment, but Calmando felt that her soft fingers had marked him even more deeply than the wolf had.

“Thank you, Mariquita,” he said quietly.  Mariquita smiled in return.

Magdalo saw the look that the pair exchanged.  He prodded the fire one more time with the stick, got up then turned to Lemuel.

“Come with me.  We’d better make sure that the body of the poor soul we buried earlier is far from camp and safe enough from the scavengers of the desert,” he held up a thin hand as Lemuel started to protest, “the mate of that beast Calmando killed is sure to be out there, and believe me, boy, you don’t want to mess with a she-wolf.”

“I should go with them,” the farmer’s son said, as he and Mariquita watched the two men walk down the path.

Mariquita did not answer.  Instead, she took Calmando’s hand and held it between hers.  She could feel the calluses that years of working on the land had etched on it.  She traced the ridges with one finger.  Calmando’s hand trembled a little in her grasp.  The mayoress’ daughter lifted his hand, brought it to her lips and kissed the palm.  Then she looked straight into his soul.

“I love you,” she whispered.

Laoakan held up the sheet of parchment to the candle.  Falcon Eye’s writing was flowing and it was difficult to copy, but the assistant had done just that many times before.  He studied the letter carefully, this would be the last time he would have the pleasure of forging the old teacher’s signature, Laoakan wanted it to be his best work.   Satisfied, he placed the sheet on the desk, dripped melted wax over it, the pressed the master’s seal on the parchment.  He folded the letter carefully, then hid it in his coat.  After making sure that his knife was also tucked into his belt, the assistant walked to the door.  It was time to meet up with Bagwis.  Laoakan hoped that the idiot had not failed this time, but whether Mariquita and Lemuel were with the assassin or not, was of little consequence, the fool had outlived his usefulness.  Laoakan had to get rid of him.  A faint smile formed on the assistant’s thin lips; Reynante, the governor’s son, had actually done him a favor by dying: Laoakan never liked sharing anything….with anyone.  There was just one more thing left to do.  He got hold of the candle and threw it at the curtains in the room.  The tiny flame quickly grew and started greedily eating the thin material.  Laoakan turned and fled.

 

 

 

Magdalo wiped the desert earth from his hands as he stood over Bagwis’ freshly dug grave. 

“Seems secure enough.  What do you think?” he asked Lemuel.

The younger man did not answer right away.  He stood beside the hermit, remembering how the assassin had died earlier that night.  He had not seen Bagwis for over two years, ever since the bully had been unceremoniously kicked out of Falcon Eye’s school.  There was bad blood all around the day he left, and Lemuel knew that they would cross paths once again, but he had not envisioned Bagwis giving up his life to save him and Mariquita.  Perhaps the assassin had not been such a terrible soul after all.  Perhaps, like the governor’s nephew and almost all of the students in the school, Bagwis had let his fear of the wily Laoakan get the better of him.  Perhaps, if he, Lemuel, had tried harder to be a friend to Bagwis….

“I wouldn’t waste my time thinking of what might have been, my boy,” Magdalo’s reedy voice was almost gentle, “there’s nothing down that road but regret and, more often than not, danger.  Take the man’s sacrifice at face value, nothing more and nothing less.”

“There was a time when I wished every ill thing in the world to fall upon Bagwis’ head, Master Magdalo.  But now, I can only hope that he has finally found what he was searching for in this life.  Does that make me weak?”

Magdalo could hear the fear, the guilt and the uncertainty in the young man’s voice.  The hermit shook his head.

“It has made you a man,” Falcon Eye’s brother said softly, “come, we should head back to camp.”

Lemuel thanked the hermit and was about to turn, when he saw something glowing in the distance.

“Is that another camp-fire, Magdalo?” the governor’s nephew said.

Magdalo looked to where the young man was pointing.  The glow was definitely flame-bright, but it looked too big to be camp-fire, even from far away.  A chill suddenly gripped the hermit when he realized what lay in that direction. 

 

 

 

So many emotions were going through Calmando, he wanted to shout for joy, dance like a fool, grovel like a beggar, but most of all, he wanted to take Mariquita in his arms and never let go.  

“And I have loved you from the moment we met, Mariquita,” he said, “but you have always known that, I think.”

She shook her head slowly.  They had a special friendship, true, but she had not dared to hope that it was something more.

Morning would come soon enough and with it, the danger that they were all in.  But he and Mariquita had these few hours before dawn to themselves.  Calmando drew her closer.

“We have to go back!  The school is on fire!”  Lemuel shouted as he and the hermit ran up the path.

 

Laoakan pulled the stallion he was riding to a stop.  He had finally reached the cliffs at the edge of the Medero.  He dismounted and looked back.  A column of black smoke was rising from the direction of the school. 

“What a pity,” he thought, “I’ll have to rebuild everything from the bottom up.”

He reached into his saddle-bag and drew out the flask of whiskey.  Perhaps the governor, or even Lemuel, could be persuaded to fund the re-construction.   He raised the flask to his lips and drank.  Then  after making sure that the precious parchment was within the bag, he looped the strap across his shoulder and  finished the remaining whiskey.

 

 

 

It was near noon by the time Calmando and his friends reached what was left of the school at the foothills of High Mountain.  The main building and the two dormitories at its opposite ends were gone, only a few blackened posts were left standing amongst the ashes.  The granaries and stables had fared better, as these stood quite a distance away from the school.  Grasping Mariquita’s small hand, the farmer’s son approached a small group of students who were huddled together, not far from the still smoking ruins.

“Where is Master Falcon Eye?” he asked.

No one answered.  He saw the looks the students exchanged, their eyes blank and glazed, like a marionette’s.  Finally, one of them spoke.

“We do not know, brother, we tried to get to his room, but the smoke and the flames…” his voice trailed off.

Calmando felt the warmth from Mariquita’s slender form as she edged closer to him, he tightened his grip on her hand, her touch was the only thing that felt real to him at that moment.

 

 

 

Laoakan threw the empty flask over the cliff edge.  It was past noon and it was clear that Bagwis was not coming.  Either the fool had failed, yet again, or something worse had befallen the younger man.  Laoakan hoped that it was the latter; he was not feeling generous at the moment and he had had his fill of the assassin’s ineptitude.  Feeling more than a little disgusted, he turned towards the stallion and grabbed the reins, but the strap of the bag caught the saddle, reminding the assistant of its presence and the document it contained.  Hmm, he could proceed to the governor’s palace without Lemuel and Mariquita, Laoakan was almost sure that the forged document would withstand anyone’s scrutiny.  But being almost sure and true certainty were two different things, and one must never let impatience lead him down the road of exigency.  It was Falcon Eye himself who had drilled that lesson into his head.  Laoakan swung himself onto the saddle and looked back at the thin column of now grey smoke rising over the horizon.  There was no other place Lemuel and Mariquita would be, and if Calmando was with them….the assistant chuckled.  The farmer’s son had honed his fighting skills under Laoakan’s tutelage, Falcon Eye had left the more physical aspects of the students’ education to him, and there were a few tricks that he kept to himself.  He spurred the horse back to High Mountain.

 

 

 

 

“What of Master Laoakan, has any one seen him?” Lemuel asked the group of students.

This time, a young girl who belonged to Mariquita’s class answered.

“I remember seeing him at evening meal and I think I he went to the stables after the service was cleared.”

“You think?” Calmando said.

“I noticed that one of the long kitchen knives was missing and Master Laoakan said that he saw it back in the stables.  He said I could retire for the night and that he’d bring the knife back himself.  I was so grateful to not have to walk out in the dark, Calmando, that I did as he told me. I’m sorry if I cannot tell you more.”  The young girl’s voice trembled.

“You did nothing wrong, Mayumi,” the mayoress’ daughter said.

“What do we do, Calmando?” Lemuel asked.

“There is only one thing to do,” it was the hermit who answered, “Falcon Eye sent you to deliver a message to the governor, did he not?”

Calmando nodded.  He had promised the master that nothing would keep him from bringing the message to the governor and an oath was an oath.

“Lemuel and I will go with you,” Magdalo said. 

The farmer’s son turned to Mariquita.

“Can you gather the other students together and start clearing up?  You will have to go through the ruins and ashes.  It will be difficult and…”

She placed a finger across his lips.

“I survived a wolf attack at night out at the Medero, Calmando.  This,” she gestured at what was left of the school, “will not be hard at all.”

“And if you find the Master’s body…”

“We will manage, Calmando,” Mariquita said quietly.

He lifted her hand and  kissed the palm.  Then he turned away and set off with Lemuel and the hermit.

“What is this message that Calmando has for my uncle?” Lemuel asked Magdalo as they reached the path that led to the Medero.

Lemuel saw the hermit smile for the first time.

“Tell me, Lemuel, have you ever dreamt of becoming governor?”