Falcon

Marianne wrapped her shawl closely around her, trying to stop some of the breeze getting in. She had lost feeling in her nose, fingers and toes about a mile back. What started out as a short walk on a chilly fall evening turned into a ten mile journey on a bitter cold night. She wished she would have brought her coat, but it was too late to turn back.

Thinking she had misread the letter, Marianne pulled it out from her dress pocket. She held up the worn out note close to her eyes, but it was too dark. Her candle hand gone out a few miles back when the wind had suddenly picked up. She had read the letter so many times back at home she should have had it memorized, but her memory had been fading of late and she was quick to forget. She stuffed the letter back in her pocket and folded her arms together, hugging tight.

Out of the corner of her eye Marianne saw a light. Hope filled inside her as she started walking towards the source. She hadn’t seen anything for miles now. As she got closer she noticed a building with its window lit up. She stopped in front of the door and looked up. There was an old wooden sign hanging above with the words Tillie’s Tavern etched in it.

Before Marianne could reach for the door, it swung open. Two drunken men stumbled out, their laugh cutting through the quiet of the night. Marianne quickly moved out of their way to let them pass, dropping her candle on the ground. A man with a long apron on and wash towel thrown on his shoulder stepped into the doorway.

“Don’t you come back!” the man yelled at the drunks. “You ain’t welcome.”

The two men laughed even harder. “Don’t worry, James,” one answered back. “We can find another tavern nearby. One with prettier ladies!” His friend’s laugh got louder.

“There ain’t another tavern within twenty miles,” James shouted. “Fools,” he mumbled under his breath, grabbing the handle on the door. He turned to go back inside when he saw Marianne standing there in shock.

“Lady if you can’t handle two drunk men, then this ain’t the place for you,” James said to her.

Marianne stood there, unsure of what to say.

“You comin’ inside or not? It’s freezin’ out here.”

Marianne let out a sigh and went into the tavern. James followed closely behind, shutting the door. He meant to walk past her, but Marianne just stood there surveying the room with her mouth wide open. An old man in ragged clothes sat at the piano, singing at the top of his lungs while banging out a tune Marianne didn’t recognize. The men and women at the tavern were singing along, waving their drinks in the air.

“Can I help you lady?” James asked, leaning in close to her ear.

Marianne looked up at him, taken aback from how close he stood to her. “Yes. Wait, no. I don’t know.”

“Women,” James said as he pushed past her, heading for the bar.

Marianne quickly grabbed his arm, turning him back to her. “Wait. I have this letter.” She fumbled around trying to find her pocket. When she found it, she pulled out the letter and handed it to him. James hesitated, wondering if he should even bother. She had already wasted too much of his time. He sighed and ripped the letter out of her hand. As James read the letter, his eyes widened, fear replacing the annoyance in his eyes.

“Where’d you get this?” James asked with panic in his voice.

“It was on my doorstep this morning,” Marianne replied.

“What’d it say?” James asked.

“What do you mean? You’re holding the letter in your hands. Can you not read?”

“What’d it say?” James shouted the question at her.

“Uhm. I can’t really remember. It was hard to understand.” Marianne put her hand on her cheek, something she always did when she was trying to think.

James put his hands on her arms, squeezing tight. “Try to remember, lady. Think hard.”

“It was a riddle, I think. It said something about taking a stroll once the sun started to go to sleep and that if I followed the path I would find what I’m looking for.”

“You lost anything recently? Anything of value?”

“No, sir.”

James release he grip and scratched his head. “Nothing? You ain’t been looking for nothing?”

“My husband,” Marianne whispered. She put her hand on her chest taking deep breaths. “What day is it?”

“Thursday.”

“Thursday? Already? He’s been gone since Saturday.” Marianne’s memory started to come back. “He left to go do work in Calson. He said he’d be back on Tuesday. Can I see the letter again?”

James handed it to her and Marianne gasped. The only thing on the parchment was a circle with a Falcon in the middle. Its eyes were full of rage and its claws were extended as if to grab something.

“Where did the letter go? There were words on here before. Did you see the words?” Marianne looked hopefully at James.

James stared back at her. “No, ma’am. Just that symbol.”

“I’ve never seen this symbol before,” Marianne said, studying the parchment.

“I have. It’s his symbol.”

“Whose?”

“Falcius,” James answered in barely a whisper.

Horror filled Marianne’s eyes. “Falcius? The Falcius?”

“Yes.”

Marianne closed her eyes and made a cross with her hand. She opened her eyes and looked up at James. “Do you think he has my husband?”

“Probably.” James scanned the room, looking for anyone out of place. “Listen, I don’t know what the letter said, and I don’t know why you ended up here, but you don’t want to get tangled up with Falcius. If I were you I would go home and destroy that parchment and never breathe a word of this to no one.”

“But what about my husband?”

“If Falcius has him, then there ain’t nothing you or I can do about it.”

“Do you think he is alive? My husband?”

“With what Falcius is capable of, you’d do best to pray to God that he ain’t.”