Page 5 of The Forest Bride
“A while ago. She must have escaped her falconer and headed north. They like to fly north, these birds.”
“What sort of falcon is she?”
“A gyrfalcon. The largest of the falcons.” He was proud of his knowledge of birds, and glad to talk of falconry rather than marriage just now. “Her tail is long and straight, and she has the large dark eyes and arrow-shaped brow of a falcon. When she is an adult, she will be larger and mostly white. The snowy white sort are rare. She is a valuable bird,” he added.
“Jer-falcons? I have heard they are special birds, especially the white ones.”
“Well done to spot her. You saved her life.”
“You saved her! I only saw her.”
“She let you see her, and let me capture her. She knew we could help.”
“Oh, look!” The girl paused short, so that Duncan bumped into her, touching her slim shoulder for a moment. “See?”
Glancing up, Duncan saw an elegant bird, pale and swift, arrow across the sky and slip between tall trees. “Another falcon! Curious.”
“I saw it earlier when I was waiting here. Is it a gyrfalcon too?”
“Could be. Silvery gray, and a bit smaller than the female. A tiercel. A male.” Then he saw the gray falcon perched at the highest point in a tree. The gyrfalcon on his glove made a chupping sound. “He must be a wild bird. But she noticed him.”
“Papa says only kings can own gyrfalcons. Could they belong to King Edward?”
“I wonder.” The same thought troubled him. He peered at the gyrfalcon’s anklet and jesses. “There is some tooling on the leather.” With his free hand, he examined the faded markings on the tattered strips. “It looks like—aye. Three lions rampant.” He frowned.
“King Edward! Could she have flown here from England?”
“The king may have brought hunting birds to Carlisle, where he is staying. She could have flown here easily from there.”
“And the other bird? Is he her mate?” She pointed upward just as the pale gray tiercel left its perch to disappear among the trees. “Perhaps they escaped together. Escaping the evil king!”
She looked delighted with her fantasy. Margaret Keith was a romantic soul, Duncan realized. He shook his head. “Falcons mate for life, but this gyrfalcon is young, and the tiercel looks wild. Falcons do fly wild in northern Scotland.”
“She could have a wild mate.” She smiled at the romantic idea. “But if she belongs to King Edward, she must be returned.”
“First she must heal. Then we will decide.” He meant his father. She smiled as if he meant the two of them.
“Will she fly again, our gyrfalcon?” Her lovely smile was distracting.
Our gyrfalcon.“With luck. She needs time.”
“Only a king can fly a white gyrfalcon. Could we even keep her?”
“A man could lose a hand, even his head, if he owns one or flies one for sport.”
“What if no one knows? You said they fly wild in Scotland.”
“Some do. The white sort come mostly from Norway. But wait.” An idea occurred. He took one of the jesses. “Take hold of the other piece, lass.”
She closed her palm over it. “Now what?”
“Margaret Keith, swear to me now on this bird’s jesses, that you will never tell that we found royal insignia on this bird.”
“I swear it.” The trust in her voice, her eyes, made him falter. “It is our secret. And our bird.” Her bright smile cut him like a knife. “A promise as solemn as marriage.”
He gulped. “Margaret. There is something you should know.”
“I want to tell you something, too.”
