Michael Mathias - The Sword and the Dragon

The hawkling eggs were sacred to the clan, and very expensive to the kingdom folk who had purchased them each year at the Summer’s Day Festival. The location of the nesting cliff was known only to the Skylers, and though they could have made a king’s fortune by harvesting all the eggs at once, they didn’t. Each clansman able to climb the cliff was allowed one opportunity each year to make his harvest, but only if he spent his share of the days in the off-season attending to the roosts and vacant nesting areas. Loose rock, old nests, and other harmful things, such as scorpions and blood ravens, were removed or frightened away so the hawklings would have a safe place to breed and hatch their young each spring.

During the harvest, it was forbidden to leave fewer than two eggs in a nest, so much of the climbing a man did-sometimes his whole harvest-was fruitless. The hawklings were fierce hunters, and their wingspan, from tip to tip, could be as wide as a man is tall. Sometimes, an angry bird would attack and maim, or even dislodge, a climber. Many a member of the Skyler clan had met their death on the rocky canyon floor.

Hyden didn’t expect much from Gerard. The lower nests would all be down to two eggs by now, and the climb took such a toll on a man’s body that Hyden didn’t think Gerard could push himself into the higher reaches today. Two or three eggs would suffice. He had told Gerard as much this morning as they broke camp. Hyden would wait until all the other eggs had been sold, and then would drive up his price. The money from two eggs would sustain him through the winter. Three would provide him not only what he needed, but also what he wanted.

“I’ll get you half a dozen at least,” Gerard had bragged. “You’ll win that competition too. And when you do, you owe me a new pair of Valleyan horsehide boots and a wizard’s hat.”

Hyden laughed, thinking about his brother’s simple desires. Gerard’s immaturity still showed itself often. He was just a year younger than Hyden. At least the new boots were a reasonable and responsible request. Gerard could buy himself a wagon full of wizard’s hats and a dozen pair of boots with what he would earn for his own eight eggs. After the Elders took out the clan’s share, Gerard would still have a small fortune.

Hyden found a rock, sat in the shadow thrown by the midmorning sun, and munched on a piece of dried venison. Gerard would rest awhile on the Lip before continuing up into the nesting shelves. The cliff face would be warming quickly now. It would grow as hot as a skillet in the morning sun, but only for a short while. The sun would swiftly put the cliff in its memory, and for the better part of the day, its face would be cooling in its own shadow.

Movement from above caught Hyden’s eye. A long, green ribbon on a crooked stick, poked up into the air from the edge of the Lip. There wasn’t enough wind to make it do more than flutter lazily. It disappeared as quickly as it had shown itself, and then one of his cousins began the long climb up to make his harvest. Hyden could tell by the bright green color of the climber’s headdress, that it was one of Uncle Condlin’s sons. He knew that Gerard’s headdress was red, with blue highlights. That was the only headdress that he cared to see.

The bright, ornamental hats were worn more to deter the fierce birds than for any other reason, yet each branch of the clan had its own colors and designs. Hyden’s was made of light wire, and shaped like an open-winged bird, with red and gold ribbons tied about the frame. Gerard’s was similar, but with red and blue ribbons fastened to it. The headdresses made it appear that a brightly colored bird was already on the climber’s head. They were a distraction at best, and they usually ended up on the canyon floor long before the climber came down. Hyden hated wearing one, especially when the wind was up. He usually threw his off after a while, but one time, an angry hawkling had torn it off his head for him, and nearly caused him to fall to his death.

It was rumored that his Great Uncle Jachen’s fatal fall had been caused solely by complications with his headdress, but it was still considered an ill omen to start up from the Lip without one. Two of Hyden’s cousins had attempted to climb after the wind had blown theirs off the ledge a few years ago. Both boys perished that day, thus reinforcing the ancient superstition.

It wasn’t long before Hyden saw his own red and gold headdress starting up the cliff. It made him smile. Gerard must have taken it from his pack earlier at the camp. Hyden hadn’t expected Gerard to wear his headdress. He was proud that his little brother was honoring him by wearing it for this climb. His heart swelled with emotion, and he decided on the spot that he would buy Gerard a wizard’s hat, a wizard’s robe, and even a magic wand at the fair, even if he didn’t win the archery competition. It didn’t even bother him when Gerard later let the awkward headgear fall away and tumble down the canyon.

It became clear that the cousin making the climb ahead of Gerard was Little Condlin. Little Con was chubby; slow, and deliberate in his moves. He climbed more sideways than upward, as if he was trying to cover the entire width of the cliff. He never extended his reach, and he always used caution. Gerard, on the other hand, was quick like a lizard, and before long he was a few hundred feet above the Lip.

The cliff itself was well over a thousand feet high. It looked to Hyden like Gerard was trying to climb to the very top of it. As far as Hyden knew, that had never been done before. An area not too far above Gerard’s current location was so thick with the nesting birds, that the gray and brown stone seemed to be striped black with them. It was obvious now that Gerard had been completely serious when he’d bragged that he would bring back half a dozen eggs. Hyden hoped that his brother wouldn’t put himself in a bad spot up there while trying to show off for him. At the moment, Gerard was as high up into the nests as Hyden had ever been in his life.

Gerard could see something glinting and shining. It was a few dozen feet to his right, a little below him, and sitting in an old broken nest on the other side of a wide vertical fissure. He couldn’t tell what it was, but it was metallic and golden. For some reason, there were no hawklings screeching at him or making sweeps at his intrusion in this area. He wasn’t paying attention to the hawklings’ activities any more though. Whatever that thing was in the nest, it was commanding his attention and causing him to lose concentration on his climb. He already had five eggs for Hyden nestled in his padded shoulder bag. He was determined to have the sixth he had boasted of, but five, he knew, would please his brother immensely. He also knew that he needed to start back down soon, so as not to be caught on the wall after sunset. Climbing down in the dark was impossible, but that blasted shiny thing was fiercely calling out to his curiosity.

His mind began filling with visions of jeweled riches and praise from his clansmen and Elders. He had to reach it. He wouldn’t be climbing here again until late summer, or just before winter set in. It might not be there then. If he didn’t get it now, he might not be able to find it again, even if it stayed exactly where it was.

He cleared his head by shaking it, and then tried to spot a way to surpass the open gap between him and the prize. If he just climbed a few dozen feet higher, he could reach across a narrow place in the fissure, and then he could climb back down to the thing. It was risky, but he told himself that he could do it.

As he started up toward the niche, the sun passed over the ridge, sending the whole of the cliff face into shadow. It took him longer than he thought it would, but he finally reached the place where he could stretch across the span of open space. He positioned himself on a tiny ledge, and when he leaned into the cliff, he could stand with all his weight on his feet, leaving both of his hands free.