The Wing And The Ink (Part One)
The yellow speckled song bird glided over the lake’s still surface seemingly without effort. As it neared Franklin’s farm the bird brought its wings back and stalled in mid air for a second before dropping to the cool grass. Franklin swung his hand again casting seeds and stale crumbs to the small congregation of song birds that greeted him each morning just as the sun began rising.
There were thousands of birds living around the lake. Some flew arching through the air like acrobats on the trapeze. Others worked the water’s waves and ripples waiting for an opportunity to eat. The larger birds glided far above the treetops masters of their cloud borne kingdom. But it was the songbirds that filled the whispering trees with song and coaxed the sun to rise.
was a dairy farmer and cheese maker whose property bordered a northwest arm of Pire Lake. The farmer was an older gentleman but still strong. He enjoyed the pleasures of a sturdy, hardworking woman and the able hands of two healthy sons. Franklin’s endeavors were profitable and his handsome family was well respected in Foresburg.
Before the sun’s orb had fully crested the hills, Franklin had his cows herded into his barn for their milking. The farmer kept the barn doors open preferring to keep the cows inside using only a narrow gate made using just three long boards. Franklin didn’t want to shut out the bird’s songs believing it was their singing that brought the sun up each day.
Summer days were still new. Franklin rose while some stars still shown through the first sunlight’s veil. He began walking toward his barn with seed in his hand listening closely for the whereabouts of his faithful songbirds. He heard nothing.
“That’s odd.” Franklin peered about. “Normally the birds come to me before I reach the barn. Perhaps they have gathered near the lake shore.”
Franklin walked through dew clad grass to Pire’s shore and listened again. There was nothing. Even the sounds of night, crickets and frogs, seemed absent from the lake. As light from the sunrise brightened the sky, Franklin noticed an unusually thick fog that clung to the water. Fog wasn’t uncommon but the density this morning also puzzled Franklin. He shrugged and turned back to his farm.
“Well, I have a handful of bird food and no birds. This has never happened before…a bad omen.”
He noticed the faint beat of flapping wings. Franklin took a glance behind him and saw the steady flight of a solitary bird. It flew far north then circled toward him. Before long it reached Franklin taking to the grass only a foot from his boot. Franklin had to look at the bird twice to be sure of what he saw. The bird was small like his songbirds but it was completely black. The eyes, talons, beak, and feathers were all like pitch. He waited for the bird to sing but it said nothing.
Another minute passed before Franklin surrendered. “Aren’t you a strange one and no song to boot. Very well, take the food. It appears that no one else is interested.”
The next morning brought the same dense fog masking a silenced lake. The black bird returned, bringing others of its ilk. They brought no songs to herald the morning only the night’s residual stillness. Franklin stopped feeding the small birds; he considered them a bad omen. The birds however, did not leave.
It seemed an entire flock of the blackened birds were clustered about on the third morning but Franklin was too busy to pay heed. He and his sons were due in Foresburg to sell their cheese and milk, visit friends, and purchase other foodstuffs. It was always a bit exciting for Franklin’s sons, Ben and Aaron, on days they went into the city. The north road that circled the lake was a long one and they traveled it hardly once per fortnight or whenever there was cheese ready to be transported. The draft horse was harnessed and the cart was loaded. Franklin and his sons began the three hour trip listening to only the short squeaks of the wheels.
After the stillness of Pire Lake, Foresburg seemed more than alive. They stopped at one of the inns to visit and sell to Olan then they went to the market and quickly sold everything else they had brought.
With most of the afternoon still before him, Aaron hopped off the cart and looked into town. “Father, I’m going to visit Rachel. It’s been almost a week since I’ve seen her and I think I’ll ask her if she’d like to go on a picnic at the lake’s shore.”
With only two years between them, Ben was also courting one of Foresburg’s young women. He joined Aaron on the floor of the market square. “A picnic sounds like a wonderful idea! I’d like to join you. I’ll bring Josie and we’ll play a game of cards.”
Aaron gave his brother a short look. “You’ll be nothing but a pest. I’d rather have flies.”
“You know Rachel’s mother, the fine lady that she is, won’t let you two run off to the lake without a chaperone. Little brothers make superb chaperones.”
Franklin smiled and handed the boys a large piece of cheese wrapped in a thin cloth. “I’m going home. Borrow one of Olan’s horses and try to be home before it gets too late. Remember, the cows don’t care how sleepy you are and neither do I.”
************
When Foresburg’s old magistrate died, Benedict made a grand show of wanting the position. It wasn’t an easy job but it did come with respect and power. Foresburg was a bit unruly compared to many villages experiencing a persistent problem with thieves. Benedict considered breaking these “thief rings” an opportunity to establish his name and make himself into a local hero. Benedict was a tall man for this area with broad shoulders and a full beard. Born from a family of minor nobles he had access to Foresburg’s reins of power. He was determined, well organized, and intuitive. It took only two days for the mayor to call upon Benedict to serve as the next magistrate.
As soon as his powers were in place, Benedict wasted little time picking through the ranks of his deputies. He sought out young men yet to be touched by the city’s corruption and he recruited older law enforcers with experience from other towns. His early successes brought Benedict popularity and power that came from the people’s trust.
That is why Calvin Bonner came to the courthouse door well after sunset. He pounded on the door and demanded to see Benedict. The night watchman initially thought to deny the man’s request before Calvin reminded him of his close association with the magistrate.
Benedict was working through ledgers when Calvin was ushered in. “What is it Master Calvin?”
The other man’s face was set with concern. “My daughter Rachael and her friend Josephine were taken to Pire Lake earlier today and they have not returned! They are never to be away from home after the sun sets!”
Benedict stood. “Who took them? Were they on horseback?”
“A farmer’s boys, two young men named Aaron and Ben. They are sons of Franklin the cheese maker from across Pire Lake. And no, all four left town on foot. They couldn’t have gone too far out of town.”
“Very well,” the magistrate stepped past Calvin. “I’ll rouse two of my deputies and go to the lake. We’ll find the men and young ladies as well. If anything has happened to your daughter or the other, Master Calvin, they will not go unpunished.”
************
Franklin didn’t hear Aaron and Ben return from Foresburg. He woke up the next morning and walked by the boy’s room. The blankets were undisturbed and the lamps were cold. Outside there was no sign anyone had been in the barn. The black birds were the only ones about; silent observers watching Franklin search.
“Something’s wrong.” Franklin woke his wife and instructed her to milk the cows. He then saddled the draft horse and began the curving road around Pire Lake back to town. Several hours later he arrived at the Foreburg’s city gate.
Franklin rode by the inn and found Olan sweeping the old structure’s wooden porch. If the boys had stayed at the lake too long it was most likely they spent the night with their old friend. At the least, they would have asked to borrow a horse.
“Olan! Have you seen Aaron and Ben? They didn’t return home last night. Have you seen them?”
Olan’s face twisted a bit. “You don’t know? The magistrate arrested both of them when they failed to return with Rachael or Josephine yesterday. Your sons were coming back into town after sunset just as Benedict was riding out to find them. Aaron and Ben claimed to have lost the girls which Benedict did not believe.”
“What?! Ben and Aaron would never have harmed those girls! That’s ridiculous!” Franklin turned toward the courthouse. “I’ll need to free them. There must be some misunderstanding.”
“Wait!” Olan wasn’t finished. He stepped off the porch and approached Franklin’s horse. “You won’t be able to get them out. Benedict would never allow it. He has said that since the boys were the last ones to see the girls that Aaron and Ben need to confess where the girls are now or the ladies need to appear on their own. The families have already been out in the woods searching and have found nothing. If you go to the courthouse, you will be confronted by many angry people.”
“Then what do you suggest I do?”
A grin broadened Olan’s face. “He he, I served one of the young deputies the other day and the dolt left his keys. Oh, he came back to see if he’d left them at his table but I told him nay. Surely it is a good thing to have keys to the courthouse if needed right?
“I’ll go into the courthouse’s cellar tonight and tell the night watchman that I saw the girls south of town. If he leaves to alert someone for only a minute or two, I’ll have your boys free. Go home and sometime after dawn tomorrow have a boat just off the piers. Aaron and Ben should be there hiding. Just be there to snatch them up. Until the girls are found they need to go into hiding.”
“What you’re planning is a crime and Master Benedict is a hard man. Why would you do such a thing?”
“Searching for the women is one thing but jailing your sons is a step too far. Don’t waste worry on me. I’ve enough pull to see to my own matters.”
Franklin studied the ground for a bit. Trouble this strong had never bitten his family before. “Fine, I’ll go home. I will trust in you Olan. Free my sons and I will have my boat near the piers on the lake.”
There was no sleep to be enjoyed that night. Franklin and his wife stayed up preparing food and packs for their sons to take once they arrived home again. They would flee to one of the larger towns that existed beyond the mountain passes.
That morning, as Franklin walked over a short rise to the lake’s shore and his small fishing boat, the number of ebony birds grew thick. Unexpectedly, one flew near Franklin’s head causing him to duck. Before Franklin could straighten it came back swooping for his head.
Franklin stayed low and scurried to the edge of the lake. “As soon as I retrieve my sons, I vow to kill these shadow spawn.”
The farmer looked about but was unable to find his small boat. During the summer he kept it tied to a pine tree that grew unusually close to the shoreline even when it was pulled out of the water. All that was attached to the tree was a bit of rope. Franklin picked it up and examined the end. The rope wasn’t chewed though by some raccoon or river rat it was severed by iron.
“I don’t understand.” He looked around the edge of the lake using the weakened sunlight of the predawn. He found nothing. The haze on the lake was thick making it difficult to see beyond twenty feet. Franklin finally spotted the boat out in the water a short bit from where he stood. It wasn’t empty. Someone propelled the craft forward with a long pole. The figure stood erect barely moving as it worked the oar.
“Wait! Come back!” Franklin dove into the water and tried to reach the boat. Instantly, more black birds the size of ravens came out to the predawn sky to tear at his head and arms. Franklin cried out and went under the water in an effort to protect himself. He came up again and sharp beaks went into his scalp. Franklin vainly tried swimming to the boat until the birds finally forced him to turn back.
Franklin ran out of the water and the evil birds turned back to the lake. When he turned around his small boat and the thief in it were gone. He returned home bleeding from cuts across his face and arms but he did not seek his wife’s help. Instead he saddled his horse and again made the long ride into town.
The farmer immediately rode to Olan’s inn. His friend was there and stunned to see Franklin walk through his doors. “Franklin! What are you doing here?! You are supposed to be on the lake meeting your sons! I managed to free them but the night watchmen saw them run from the courthouse. The deputies chased both Aaron and Ben towards the lake. If you’re not there then I don’t know what will happen to them. I barely escaped detection myself.”
Franklin left Olan and rode back out of town to the lake. At the largest pier, Benedict stood with a contingent of his deputies.
“Where are my sons?!”
“Are you Franklin? I was hoping you could tell us.” Benedict’s voice worked its way over those of the surrounding men. “They somehow escaped from their cells in the courthouses cellar. I’d like to know how. You can begin by telling me why you are in town so early or why your face is covered in blood.”
“You didn’t answer me! Where are my sons!”
The magistrate took a deep breath. “They fled into the lake. In fact several people here saw a small boat though the fog on the lake’s horizon. I was going to presume it was you. So who was in the boat? Your wife?”
Franklin’s knuckles were white around the reigns. “Someone stole my boat and is out on the lake! I don’t know who or where my sons are!”
Without addressing Franklin further, Benedict rotated to the nearest man. “Take six teams of men and begin walking around the lake. Two of these groups need to be on horseback so to arrive on the far side quickly. Hammond, you and Martin escort this man back to his home and make sure the criminals aren’t hiding there.”
After two days of searching, no one was found. No bodies appeared in the lake. The families of Rachel and Josephine continued to press Benedict about the whereabouts of their daughters. The magistrate had nothing to offer them. The girls were gone and so were his primary suspects.
Then something mysterious occurred. Benedict entered his office on the courthouse’s third level and found the shutters of the window near his desk open. He walked over and examined the latch. The metal had been cleanly snipped.
“But how? The latch is on the inside and if the watchman wanted the window open he could just pull it…”
Benedict looked to his desk and noticed one of his spare ledgers was covered in script. The ink was dark and heavy but also perfect in its clarity and beauty. The magistrate picked it up and turned the document towards the sunlight. It was a list of names. Beside each name a crime was listed and when it occurred. The leaders of several thief rings were mentioned and information needed to catch them.
Without waiting for his breakfast to be delivered, Benedict tested the first name listed. In a shanty house on the western side of Foresburg, he and his deputies found gold coins and several silks stolen from the brother of the mayor.
It was the first step in making Benedict a legend. Other arrests followed all played out in stunning fashion. Within a week, the thief rings were smashed.
A new problem developed. The jail in the courthouse’s cellar filled and the prison was also filled to capacity. Criminals were being arrested and housed faster than Benedict or any of the lesser judges could see the accused.
Benedict walked into his office and picked up the new ledger. By now he knew who was writing the messages but he failed to tell anyone else. A couple of nights ago he stayed in his office all night and watched the shutters. A lamp was lit near Benedict’s chair. Benedict himself hid. Exactly an hour before dawn, a large black bird whose entire body appeared cut from the night sky, sprang the shutters open. It hopped from the sill to the desk and began running its beak along the new parchment. Benedict said nothing and he did not move until the bird finished. Finally, the bird opened its wings and disappeared out of the window.
The day’s list contained only a couple names but the message at the bottom was more interesting. It addressed the overcrowding problem at his jails with a simple solution. Benedict pursed his lips and marched to the prison. The magic had been right so far. He would try this as well.
An offer was made to all inmates regardless of their crime or how long they’d been held. Just before dawn each day, deputies would take any volunteers to Pire Lake. If the prisoner could swim from the farthest pier to the other side he would be allowed to go free but would not be allowed to return to Foreburg.
Many enthusiastically accepted Benedict’s offer. The lake was very wide but in the darkness before dawn it would be easy to swim to one side and eventually get out early. The prohibition of returning to Foresburg was laughable as well. What would stop them from eventually coming back to town?
Two days later, in the darkness before dawn, Benedict and his deputies led a long line of chained criminals out of town to the shores of Pire Lake. Each was released into the lake and watched as they swam into the fog. When the last man was released, Benedict sent a few riders to the other side of the lake to count those who succeeded. He also posted two deputies on the roads coming back into town.
When all returned that afternoon, they reported seeing none of the criminals. Of the fifty that were given to the lake, not one was accounted for. Benedict found this news delightful. The messages had served him well again. The thieves were gone and he wasn’t draining the town’s resources feeding them. Some of his deputies and the families of the disposed criminals wondered what had happened but they were ignored.
Each morning the black bird returned with more names and Benedict continued to feed the lake.
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