While his hands were close together, behind Hyden’s back, Gerard slipped the ring onto his finger. After a moment, Hyden held him back by the shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes.
“Don’t scare me like that again.” He pointed to the gash on his knotted head. “You almost killed me.”
It was too dark even to think about starting back to the harvest lodges. They ended up building a fire where Hyden and Gerard had camped the night before. The three of them exchanged stories, and had a great laugh at the fact that Hyden was the only one who hadn’t left the ground, but was the only one who had fallen.
While Little Con boiled some dried beef into a stew, Hyden inspected the eggs his brother had brought him. He was pleased beyond words at what he saw. All six of them were safe and sound and nestled in a bed of fresh keep moss. He made up his mind to buy Gerard a whole wizard’s costume-the robe, the hat, and even a staff, if that was what he wanted. He didn’t think it would be though. Gerard seemed to have matured a great deal since just that morning. The sparkle of the ring in the firelight, and the tired, serious look on his face made him look anything but youthful. Hyden saw a man, where only this morning, he’d seen a boy. It was a strange sight to see, because most of the time he didn’t even consider himself an adult yet.
“Wendlin, Jeryn, and Tylen are the only ones left to harvest now,” Little Con informed them. “They’re camped at the other end of the canyon. They probably think I fell, since I didn’t come back to camp tonight.”
“If they thought you fell, they would be out looking for your carcass,” Hyden said matter-of-factly.
“Or dancing a jig,” Gerard added with a laugh.
“They probably saw you come down,” Hyden reasoned. “Same as I did.”
“How could you have seen him knot-head,” Gerard smirked. “You were busy kissing rocks.”
They all laughed heartily at that. Little Condlin dished the stew into Hyden’s and Gerard’s bowls and then waited for one of them to finish. His bowl was back at his brothers’ camp. Hyden had eaten a healthy meal, while Gerard and Little Condlin had been busy climbing, so he only slurped a few mouthfuls, and then passed his bowl on to his young cousin. Gerard, on the other hand, attacked his meal like a starving dog.
“Are you going back to the lodges with us in the morning or what?” Hyden asked.
“Back to Tylen’s camp,” Condlin answered. “Wendlin and Jeryn climb early in the morning. Tylen goes last, since he is the oldest in the clan who’s not on the council.” Little Condlin always spoke of his brothers proudly, but when he spoke of his oldest brother Tylen, his chest swelled bigger than usual. “Tylen’s gonna break my pap’s record this year.”
Hyden knew in his heart that Gerard could have brought back a dozen eggs today, if he hadn’t been sidetracked at that fissure by the ring. A climb that high up into the thick of the nesting band was rare. Gerard had gone higher than anyone Hyden had ever seen. The weather had been exceptional, and the hawklings themselves were far less aggressive than most years, but he still wasn’t sure if even he could have climbed as well as his brother had today. He would have never risked that leap, that’s for sure. Another thing he knew for certain was that Tylen could climb like a lizard too. If tomorrow was as perfect a day as today had been, then Tylen really might have a chance to break Big Condlin’s record. Hyden kept his thoughts to himself though, because Little Condlin’s chest and head were already swollen enough.
As soon as he finished eating, Gerard lay back and went to sleep. Little Condlin wasn’t far behind him. Hyden took the time after he ate to clean the dried blood from his head. He covered Little Condlin with his blanket, and lay down close to the fire. It had been a long and eventful day, and sleep found him quickly.
The next morning, Little Condlin was anything but quiet as he gathered up his things in the predawn light. He woke up Hyden and Gerard with eyes full of excitement and pride. With a mouth full of chatter he wasted no time leaving. He was off to his brothers’ camp in the hopes of catching them before they started their climbs. Gerard wanted to throw a rock at him for waking them for no real reason, but he couldn’t find one that wouldn’t crack his head in half if it hit him.
The day started with much moaning and groaning from both brothers. Hyden’s head hurt badly. It was not so much the actual wound that bothered him, but a deep inner ache that felt like a hot rock was loose inside his skull. Every little move he made caused the rock to roll around and scald another part of his brain.
Gerard was no better off. Like burning wires cutting through his muscles, his pain spread throughout his shoulders, back and legs. His movements took great effort and came with audible strain, but he didn’t dare voice a complaint. He didn’t want to hear Hyden razz him for whining.
Hyden managed to boil some water over the fire. At least Little Condlin had built the blaze up before he left. Hyden added chicory root and some gum leaf to the pot, and the warm, thick smell of the brew brought Gerard to the fire with his cup in hand. The dark, flavorful liquid put a little energy into their bodies and helped leech out some of the aches and pains. After a few cups, they felt well enough to break camp and start back to the harvest lodges.
While Hyden doused the fire, Gerard was waiting to go. Hyden went to grab the shoulder pack that held the eggs his brother had harvested for him, but stopped suddenly. He heard a sound coming from inside the bag.
“Oh no!” he said, thinking that one of the eggs had broken.
“Are they all right?” Gerard asked with concern. He watched Hyden’s face from where he stood, trying to gauge his brother’s reaction to what he saw as he peered into the bag. He expected to see either relief or anguish spread across Hyden’s face, but what he saw was a strange, somewhat confused look. The odd expression slowly morphed into a wide-eyed grin full of wonder and amazement. The curiosity to know what Hyden was looking at overwhelmed Gerard, and he hurried over to his brother’s side to see for himself.
Hyden reached into the bag carefully. His cupped hand came out with a squeaking little hawkling chick in it. As Gerard knelt down beside him, Hyden worked a piece of jerked venison from his pack with his free hand. He tore a piece off with his teeth and chewed it vigorously.
“Do you think it’s the prophesy bird?” Gerard asked, with a look from the bird to his brother and back. “Or was it just bad keep moss?”
“I-mmm-don’t-mmm-know?” Hyden answered as he chewed. Once the venison was softened, he spat a wad of the chewed-up meat into his hand. He dangled the meat over the little gray chick’s snapping beak and it gobbled the stuff up greedily. Immediately, it started squawking for more. Hyden bit off another piece of the meat, chewed it up, and fed it to the hungry bird. With Gerard’s help, he made a makeshift nest out of his rough spun shirt. Once the little chick was nestled in, it immediately fell asleep.
By all rights, it was Hyden’s egg that had hatched, but it was Gerard who had harvested it. Hyden turned to his brother with a serious look on his face.
“You brought it down from the cliff, but it hatched after you gave it to me. I don’t know if it could be the legend or not, but if it is, who is the chosen one? Me or you?”
“The Elders will know,” Gerard said, trying to remember the exact words of the prophetic campfire story. He realized after a moment that it was no use. He had heard the story told a dozen different ways.
The most common version of the legend stated that one day a clansman’s harvest would be blessed by the Goddess in the form of a special egg. Even keep moss wouldn’t keep this supposedly blessed egg from hatching. The lucky clansman and his hawkling, were supposed to bond, and then go off into the world to do extraordinary things together. They would have adventures far beyond imagining. They would travel beyond the mountains and across the seas, and their lives would be exciting. They would serve the Goddess abroad, and possibly earn a place in the heavens at her side.
After Hyden shouldered the pack with the five remaining eggs in it, he carefully picked up the shirt nest with both hands. Gerard led the way out of the canyon, and as they skirted the forest, he took extra care to make sure no branches or footfalls hindered his brother’s way. The trail wasn’t long, but it was rocky in places and awkward. It was meant to remain hidden, so it took them a while to make the short journey to the harvest lodges.
They made it to the small group of crude, huts by midmorning. They tried to make it to their grandfather’s hut with as little notice as possible, but it was impossible. Tales of Gerard’s leap from the day before had made it back to the lodges already, told by clansmen who had been watching the cliff face from afar. A handful of younger boys rushed forth to question Gerard about it. Because the clan women weren’t allowed at the harvest, the boys who weren’t yet old enough to climb were starved for attention and ran wild like a pack of scavengers. They wanted to know how well Gerard’s second harvest had gone, and if Gerard and Hyden knew how well Little Condlin had done. Gerard shooed them away as best he could, but a few of them spied the hawkling chick in Hyden’s hands and grew overly excited. It took only moments for the tale of the gift the Goddess had bestowed upon Gerard, or maybe Hyden, to reach every set of ears at the lodges.
Having just heard the news from a group of his grandnephews, Hyden and Gerard’s grandfather received
