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LAKE OF SORROWS
By
Sarah J. McNeal
© copyright September 2006, Sarah J. McNeal
Cover art by Eliza Black, © copyright September 2006
ISBN 1-58608-958-7
New Concepts Publishing
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, and places are of the author’s imagination and not to be confused with fact. Any resemblance to living persons or events is merely coincidence.
Acknowledgement
I want to thank my friends and family who encouraged me and believed in me: Kathy Groce, Debbie Gudenzi, Betsy Burkart, Donnita Belton and Thomas Freeman.
Chapter One
Hawk leaned back in his chair and propped his booted feet on Noratuke’s saddle. Listening to the desert wind play with the sides of the tent, he poured himself a stiff drink from the bottle on the table beside him. What he wouldn’t give for an ice cold beer from the fridge and a game of football on a wide screened TV back home in his own time instead of rounding up renegade creatures from the Dark Isle in this medieval wasteland!
“My liege, I don’t wish to disturb you, but a message has just arrived from Prince Raphael,” Mericet said as he entered the tent with a sealed parchment in his hand.
Hawk took the message and noticed that the boy’s hair was wet and his clothes damp. “Water’s scarce out here, Mericet. Mind you don’t waste it by bathing in the middle of the day.”
“Yes, my liege,” Mericet replied obediently and waited respectfully by the opening of the tent for further instructions.
Pulling the dagger from his wide leather belt, Hawk cut the seal from the parchment and began to read. The first words grabbed his attention immediately. “My God,” he gasped aloud, “Peregrine is alive.” He glanced over at Mericet. “My brother is alive.”
Mericet nodded. “That’s good, my liege. I’m glad for you.”
Hawk jumped up from his chair and paced as he continued to read aloud. “Your brother is living among the gypsies, playing his violin and performing his water show twice a day. But he is altered. You must come to Val’Ka Mulano with all due haste.”
He stopped pacing. “Altered? What could he mean?” He shrugged his shoulders. “It’s enough that he’s alive. When that demon, Inx, threw him into the Lake of Sorrows, we were all certain Peregrine was dead. I thought I would never see him again.”
Emotion choked at the back of his throat. He stared at the parchment as if it were the Declaration of Independence in his hands. A weight that had pressed upon his heart for months lifted, and he felt like he could breathe again. The torment of guilt he bore for being unable to save Peregrine withdrew from his spirit. Hawk threw his head back and laughed for the first time since the tragedy of Peregrine’s loss. And as it sometimes happens, the laughter caught in his throat and turned to tears that streamed down his face. He sat back in his chair and buried his face in his hands. His shoulders shook with raw emotion.
Mericet hurried to Hawk’s side and put his slender hand to Hawk’s forehead. “Is all well with you, my liege?” he asked with a furrowed brow.
Hawk jumped up from his chair and, in his joy, hugged Mericet and ruffled his hair much like he would have done had it been Peregrine instead of Mericet. Mericet stepped back stiffly.
Hawk just shook his head. He rushed out of the tent and left instructions with Escobar and Domingomae to pack up and meet him in Vel’ka Mulano. Then he changed into the bird for which he was named and flew to the East.
* * * *
At first sight of Peregrine, Hawk almost didn’t recognize him. His black hair had grown past his shoulders and his aquamarine eyes seemed vacant. His lanky frame was beginning to fill out with wide shoulders and a broad chest that tapered to a narrow waist. Like all the McKnight men, he was tall, over six feet. He wore unusual clothing for the kid that Hawk remembered as wearing only tee shirts and blue jeans. He wore a white peasant shirt that was open halfway to his waist, leather britches and a green sash tied around his waist that dangled to his knees with silk cord fringe. A silver dagger peeked out of his waistband and glinted in the sun. Tied to his back was his beloved violin. There was a wild look to him that had never been there before. He walked along, chatting with a girl who had amazing curly brown hair dancing with golden highlights when the sun shone through it.
Hawk called to him with joy pulsing through his heart, “Perri! Hey, it’s me, Hawk, your brother.”
Peregrine stopped walking. He turned, looked back, and met Hawk’s gaze. A smile danced on his lips for just a moment as recognition lit startling blue eyes that were so like his mother’s. Then he cried out in agony and held his head in both hands. The intensity of the pain was so great it brought him to his knees.
Hawk rushed to his brother’s side. Before he could speak, Raphael clasped his shoulder to get his attention. Hawk looked at Raphael, who motioned with his index finger to his lips signaling Hawk not to speak.
Hawk was so stunned he couldn’t have spoken if he’d wanted to. He watched in bewilderment as Raphael helped Peregrine up. “There now, Mulopani. I see you’ve been thrown to the ground by the curse again. Better now?”
Peregrine stood up with Raphael’s help, looking dazed and rather confused. Raphael led him to Hawk and introduced them as if they were strangers. “Hawk, I’d like you to meet my new friend, Mulopani, who travels with the gypsies playing his violin and giving demonstrations twice a day of his amazing water breathing ability.”
Hawk felt like a bumbling idiot. Disappointment, anger, grief and helplessness rambled through him like a train on loose tracks about to derail in a chaotic heap. He couldn’t seem to form words of response.
Raphael finished the introduction with, “Mulopani, this is my old and dearest friend, Hawk. He’s come a long way to see me.” Raphael then introduced Peregrine’s companion. “Hawk, I’d like you to meet this lovely vision who is Mulopani’s ever constant friend, Izabelle.”
Hawk took his direction from Raphael and said as nonchalantly as he could muster, “It’s nice to meet you, Miss Izabelle. I hope you and Mulopani can find some time to spend with me so we can become better acquainted.”
Raphael squinted at the sun, then looked at Peregrine. “I believe it’s time for one of your intriguing demonstrations, Mulopani. Hawk and I will catch up with you after you’ve amazed yet another crowd with your abilities.”
Peregrine smiled. “Nice to meet you, Hawk. Maybe we can talk later tonight. Right now I have to go do this show.” Peregrine dashed off toward the center of the village with Izabelle running behind him with her blaze of sun-streaked, brown curls bouncing around her waist.
Hawk stood petrified, staring at Raphael.
Raphael clasped Hawk’s shoulder. “You see he is not the boy we once knew. He is cursed somehow. Any mention of the past before we took the Dark Isle sends him into unrelenting pain. He doesn’t remember anything about your time or your world, his brothers or sisters, nothing except his violin.” Raphael dropped his hand from Hawk’s shoulder.
“I should be happy that he’s alive, but I feel that he’s paid a terrible price for his freedom.” Hawk followed Raphael toward the center of town where a crowd was gathering. His heart sank in his chest. The blue eyes half hidden under Peregrine’s silky black hair no longer sparkled with joyful innocence. “Something awful happened to Perri in that godforsaken lake, and I’ve got to find out what.”
“I think we need help,” Raphael said.
“What do you mean? Who could possibly help us?”
“I fear that, if we try to make Peregrine remember what happened to him in the Lake of Sorrows, it will kill him. We need to secure your brother’s health first.” Raphael stretched his crimson wings. The gold tips of the feathers sparkled in the midday sun. “I think we need someone who knows medicine and is willing to help us. Perhaps Doctor Emma Dawson would be a good choice. She knows about the people from my world, about our wings and our powers. She delivered my brother’s wife of fine twins not that long ago.” Raphael smiled. His dark eyes seemed to dance with light. “Gabriel said she asked about you when last he was there.”
While they settled themselves on a comfortable bench near the front of the stage in the center of town, Hawk thought about Gabriel’s suggestion. “She is a fine doctor,” he allowed. “And she’s known about my family’s secrets for years. She’s never spoken a word to put us in jeopardy or bring attention to us. She might be the logical choice.”
“You don’t seem convinced. Why the hesitation?”
Hawk took a steadying breath. “Emma and I have a history. She was my childhood sweetheart.” A piercing pain ran through his chest when he recalled the moment she broke his heart. “She grew up knowing about my family and me. She never told anyone about our special gifts or the world we often visited where people could fly. We all trusted her completely. I trusted her with my heart.”
A crowd was gathering around them. Raphael lowered his voice. “What happened?”
He couldn’t remember now what they had fought about. Emma had grown increasingly distant after she went off to college in Boston. He couldn’t understand why she wouldn’t return his calls. Had he done something wrong? When he went to see her to find out what had changed, she started a fight and told him it was over. He never fully understood what had happened.
Even now he felt the cold wave of loss just as he felt it that day when he walked away from her with snow falling like a curtain between them. It took every fiber of determination not to look back at her or make one more useless plea. After that she went her way while he went his. With a stab of nostalgia, he realized how much he missed her.
“We fought. I don’t know what it was about. It was probably something stupid. I don’t think she wanted me to be a cop. What does it matter? She’s probably found someone else by now. That would be the best thing for her. I’m not a good candidate for marriage anyway.” In his mind’s eyes he could imagine her in some cute little sundress basking in the sun while its light spun gold out of her naturally blond hair.
“Do you really believe she extricated herself from you because she didn’t like your job?” Raphael gave Hawk an incredulous look.
Hawk thought about the job that took him into danger every day. The dark places he had to go into were sordid and ugly. No matter how hard he tried to push them out of his mind, some of the horrors of what he encountered haunted him still. The memories from the underbelly of humanity, the terrible things that humans were capable of, women murdering their own children, men crippling their wives and children emotionally and physically for the rest of their lives, invaded his consciousness. Even worse, were the children who had been introduced to sex, drugs and violence before they reached ten years of age. He felt powerless against it all. He did what he could, but it was never enough.
“Seventy-five percent of the marriages on the police force fail. The stress on the wives and families of police officers, never knowing if they will see their spouse or parent come home from work each day is just too great. I don’t think I would have wanted Emma to suffer like that, even if she hadn’t dumped me.”
The crowd jostled for places to sit and forced Hawk and Raphael to sit with shoulders touching. “My God, this is worse than a free rock concert,” Hawk commented.
“You have no idea what a show this is,” Raphael responded, then returned to their conversation. “Whenever you start quoting statistics and percentages, you lose me. Get to the real point.”
Hawk knew the officers were plagued with feelings of hopelessness and inadequacy, knowing what little difference that they made. Some of them abused prescription drugs from well-intended doctors, some just drank too much or closed off their feelings altogether and became hard or corrupt themselves. Some adopted the attitude of ‘if you can’t beat ’em, join ’em.’
Hawk fell into the middle category. He drank too much, too often. He knew it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it was the only thing that quieted his mind and soothed his soul. What decent woman would want to get involved with a man like him?
Then there was this little business of his secret ability to shift-shape into a hawk and fly.
Hawk shook his head. “I have too many secrets, and there is too much darkness in me to burden any woman with, least of all Emma. She has enough to bear without taking on my eccentricities and problems.” He turned his head to peer into Raphael’s face. “I have no idea what I want to do with my life. I’m no better than a drifter wandering around from here to there without solid footing in this world or my own.”
Raphael lifted his hand and signaled a man selling food. He handed the man a few coins and received in turn two tankards of ale and two large turkey legs. He handed over half the refreshments to Hawk, who accepted the food gratefully.
As the show began with the usual dancing and magic tricks, Raphael spoke, raising his voice over the cheering crowd that seemed to be unruly and loud. “What’s it going to be, Hawk? Are we going to ask for help from Emma, or can you think of an alternative?”
Before Hawk could answer, the crowd stood up and roared with applause as Hawk’s brother stepped onto the stage. Hawk’s attention was pulled away from Raphael as both of them stared at Peregrine.
After playing a haunting tune on his violin that sounded to Hawk like a cross between gypsy music and Chopin, Peregrine handed over his violin to Izabelle who had stepped forward with much elegance and drama. Peregrine made much ado of tying his hair back, then waved to two male assistants who carried him to the large barrel of water. With great aplomb and ceremony, the two men walked up the steps on either side of the barrel. Upon reaching the top, they turned Peregrine upside down, each of them holding an ankle.
The crowd was shouting, “Drown him! Drown him!”
Hawk stared with a mixture of horror and apprehension. What the hell was Perri doing? Had he lost his mind completely?
Peregrine looked out at the crowd and grinned most charmingly, then signaled the pair of assistants to lower him down into the barrel.
Hawk jumped up from his seat intending to race to the stage and rescue his brother from certain death, but Raphael grabbed hold of his arm to stay him and said, “Wait, and you will see how much Peregrine is altered.”
Minutes passed. The crowd was clapping in rhythm, counting off the time. Hawk’s heart was pounding in his chest. No human could hold their breath this long. They were killing his brother right in front of his eyes. Panic began to skitter down his spine. He attempted to shrug off Raphael’s hold on him just when the crowd burst out in whistles and applause as Peregrine was lifted from the barrel. The two men carried him down to the stage where they stood him on his feet.
Peregrine threw his arms into the air in triumph and laughed out loud as the crowd went wild.
Hawk, feeling weak from the emotional outpour of his own adrenaline, sat back down in a heap on the bench. Raphael sat beside him and looked askance. Hawk nodded his head. There was no other recourse. He’d eat a heaping plate of crow before he let his brother live like this. “Please give Perri my regrets that I cannot stay to talk with him. I must go home to my own time and fetch Emma back. Please see to my men and my horse when they arrive, Raphael. I’ll meet you back in Valmora. Your task will be to get my brother to return with you to Valmora.”
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