Callahan the Falcon: Tales of Calarr (Paperback or Softback)
Idioma: inglés
Editorial: Trafford Publishing 4/1/2013, 2013
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Callahan the Falcon: Tales of Calarr.
N° de ref. del artículo BBS-9781466986022
- Título
- Callahan the Falcon: Tales of Calarr (Paperback or Softback)
- Autor
- Curtin, Chris
- Editorial
- Trafford Publishing 4/1/2013
- Año de publicación
- 2013
- Estado
- New
- Tipo de libro
- Book
- Encuadernación
- Paperback or Softback
- Idioma
- inglés
- ISBN 10
- 1466986026
- ISBN 13
- 9781466986022
- Peso del artículo
- 0,79 libras
“Sinopsis” puede pertenecer a otra edición de este título.
Fragmento. © Reproducción autorizada. Todos los derechos reservados.
Callahan the Falcon
Tales of Calarr
By Chris CurtinTrafford Publishing
All rights reserved.
Contents
| Chapter 1 Entearra Gharu, Game of the Gods................................. | 1 |
| Chapter 2 The Falcon....................................................... | 34 |
| Chapter 3 Life during Wartime.............................................. | 76 |
| Chapter 4 Aftermath and Wanderings......................................... | 110 |
| Chapter 5 The Tribes....................................................... | 141 |
| Chapter 6 Un Naga Frueh.................................................... | 165 |
| Chapter 7 Homecoming....................................................... | 185 |
| Chapter 8 Falcons.......................................................... | 210 |
| Chapter 9 Avians........................................................... | 238 |
| Chapter 10 The Order of Chaos.............................................. | 256 |
| Chapter 11 The Chaos of Order.............................................. | 277 |
| Epilogue................................................................... | 289 |
| About the Author........................................................... | 297 |
Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
Entearra Gharu,Game of the Gods
[Narrator] His mother, daughter to a butcher, wasgiven to his father, a captain of the Lados guard, as paymentto avoid extortion by the guard. In those days, before therise of the guilds, the guards ran the criminal aspects of thecity unchallenged. Hating her forced union with Callahan'sfather, his mother often sought the company of sailors andpassing adventurers that frequented the inn she tended. It wassuspected that one of these unions was the cause of Callahan'sconception; thus, his father looked on him with contemptand disgust. A love for the drink, gambling, and women keptCallahan's father from the home for the most part. When hedid happen to be home, the sight of Callahan would send himinto rage. He would verbally rip apart his wife until the wordswere no longer enough to satiate his anger, at which time hewould beat her mercilessly.
[Callahan] Yep, Mom was a slut. I say slut and not whorebecause at least whores get paid for it. Dad was a drunkenmoron who had no concept of holding on to money.Suddenly, the lack of memory and a prison cell isn't soundinglike such a bad gig after all.
[Narrator] Drug down into a depressive state ofhopelessness, the best she could muster for her son was settinghis room in the loft of the home, where due to the confinedspace and rope ladder access, entry was not easily managedby a raged-out drunk. As he got old enough to gain someself-awareness and understanding, the beatings turned in hisdirection, so Callahan quickly learned not only how to makehimself scarce but also how to scrape out an existence on thestreets.
By the age of twelve, he had engineered a false floor inhis loft, which provided him sanctuary when outright escapeseemed unlikely, as well as a hidden rope with a knotted stickhe would latch under his secured nightstand so he could dropdown next to the front door and, with a quick snap, unlatchthe stick from the dresser legs. A good deal of practice whilehis parents were away got him in the habit of being able tocatch the stick as it fell, so he could enact the process quicklyand almost silently.
During those years of his young life, he took an orphanboy named Selfin under his wing and started teaching him theins and outs of acquiring what one needs to survive. Duringthe course of his younger days, Callahan found his quickwit and knack for impressing himself upon people to be hisgreatest allies. Information and knowledge were key to him.He found that the shifting and acquiring of those luxuries wasa far more worthwhile endeavor than petty theft and carried aless immediate threat if handled with care.
[Callahan] Selfin was a good kid. None too bright, mindye, but a good kid nonetheless. My first real friend, he was. Iremember the time I went out in the morning to find him,only to see the dipshit being pummeled by a street merchant.He had got himself nicked for snagging a loaf of stale bread.Course, he had to pick the surliest merchant on the block tosteal from. I'd taught him better than that but wasn't about tolet him go down on his own.
[Narrator] "Whoa, ye burly ogre, lay off that boy there!"Callahan deftly hopped from his perch on the rooftops to anoverhanging sunshade, then down to the ground with a lightroll.
Turning his attention to the new kid, the merchantgrowled, "Mind your own, boy. Caught this 'ere thief fair andsquare, so what I do with him is what I do with him, and Idon't want to hear a word from you about it. `Less, of course,ye want yerself a healthy dose of it too."
"While an ass whooping would be entertaining and shavemore than a little time off this otherwise drab and boringmorning, it would not accomplish either of our purposes."Well outside the merchant's reach, Callahan smiled his wry halfsmile. "I propose an offer. You want profit. I want bread and anend to me mate's ass whooping, deserved as it may be. So whatI propose is ye not only give me the loaf of bread he tried tosteal but a second one, and within the hour, I will return withfour times the payment for both."
"Do I look that stupid to you? Don't answer that, ye littlepuke. Now bugger off." The merchant raised his hand to strikethe boy again.
"Swear to me upon whatever ye hold dear that ye won'thit him again. Give me the loaf he tried to steal. I will go onme own and, as I said, return with four times the profit fortwo loaves. If I cheat ye, ye'll still have me friend to pummelon, and all ye'd have lost is one loaf of stale bread. If I don'tcheat ye, then yer up a healthy profit, and ye don't have togo bruising those soft, lovely hands of yers." Winking to Selfin,Callahan removed his raggedy old cloak as he spoke, thentossed one end out next to his friend. Selfin, catching the hint,snagged the loaf he had tried to steal from the dirt, where ithad fallen, and dropped it on the end of the cloak.
Pulling the bread quickly to his grasp, Callahan grinnedagain. "We have an accord, then. As I said, look for me withinthe hour." Bolting off with calculations running through hisbrain, Callahan figured twenty minutes' travel to Horuce'sguard station, eight minutes for negotiation, and twentyminutes' return time left him more than ample room to err.
Taking to the rooftops, Callahan smoothly traversed thedistance to the guard shack, placed more as a guide betweenthe noble sector and the middle class than as an actual positionof danger. His father placed his most unreliable guards at thispost, and Callahan delighted in the dependability of Horuce'sstupidity. Horuce was his father's least favorite employee andoften wound up on duty at this particular station.
"Sleeping yet again, ye lard-ass lout!" Bouncing the staleloaf of bread off Horuce's head to land it in his lap, Callahangrinned wide at Horuce as the large man tried to stir himselfto attention. "Last time me dad caught ye wasn't lesson enoughfor ye, eh?"
"He only came out this way 'cause you ratted me out,you little pissant, and if I heard right, what cost me a month'spay and a lashing cost you a few weeks' worth of beatings. Sothanks for the bread and the memory to keep me laughing."The fat man took a healthy bite out of his bread, still snortingcontemptuously at the boy before him.
"Ye cheated me on my due when I completed our deal. Ibrought ye yer flask of wine and some fresh cheese to go withit, and ye refused to pay me. Said, if I remember right, `Thanksfor the drink and food. Now go get a job, you oversized sewerrat.' So I told me father ye would be sleeping later that day, andbugger me if yer big dumb arse hadn't drunk all the wine anddropped yerself into a stupor. Just bad luck that noblewomanhappened to overhear him yelling at ye, and me dad's imagewas tarnished because his guard was asleep on duty." Callahan'sgrin spread to a wry half smile as he watched the fat guardcram another bite in his mouth. "Ye do make a fine argument,though."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Bread crumbs sprayed atCallahan as Horuce spoke.
"Means I did pay for turning ye in by getting beaten fora few weeks. So debt stays unsquared for when ye tried tostiff me on me pay. Price just got larger for that bread you'remunching and my silence about ye sleeping on post again."The smile upon his face remained unchanged.
"Listen here, you overblown shit wad, I am not giving youa copper, so fuck off." Horuce returned Callahan's unwaveringsmile with an exaggerated one of his own.
"Right, then, I've a deal to keep this morning, and yerdelaying me far too long. One of two things is about tohappen. One, ye give me yer coin purse with all its contentsand we part friends, or two, I turn ye overto me dad, missmeeting my deal this morning, catch a beating from amerchant, a month's beatings from me dad, but not beforewatching yer bloated arse bounce off the ramparts swingingfrom a noose." His smile remained solid, but the look inCallahan's eyes became undeniably stoic.
"Give you my coin purse? Bah, damn near a gold's worthof coins in it. I'll be damned if I give that to you." Horuce'svoice shook as he feigned confidence.
"Look me in the eyes, dear Horuce. I like ye despite ourpast squabbles, and so I don't want to see harm come to ye,but a deal is a deal in my world. So ye can fear damnationall ye want, but look again at my eyes. Test me, please. Come,Horuce, deny me what I ask that ye can meet yer gods. I'll takeeach beating with the image of yer bloated corpse hung aloftto ease my pain, and ye know the depth of truth in my words,so please, test me. Dance with me." Callahan deftly caughtthe hefty coin purse none too gently thrown in his direction."Good, I see we can part friends. By the way, Tavinicus carrieson him a favor from me father's favorite whore. He's beencavorting with her short of my father's blessing. Do with thattad bit of information what you will, makes no never mind tome."
As Callahan started his rushed jog back to the merchant, hecould hear Horuce belly-laughing and calling after him, saying,"You blighter, how in the fuck can you manage to damn nearget me hung, rob me blind, and leave with me still loving theshit out of ye?" The fat man crammed another oversized biteof stale bread in his mouth, smiling and releasing his stress inan exaggerated sigh. He knew that small piece of informationwas his ticket back into good graces and, thus, worth far morethan the coins it cost.
[Callahan] That fat sack of useless crap actually used thatinfo to get Tavinicus hung from the ramparts. This, in turn, didput him back on me father's good side.
[Narrator] Withdrawing a silver piece and stashing theremainder of his coins in a thin multipouched roll of cloth hehad devised to silence jingling, which was hidden under hisbelt, he returned to Selfin and the merchant, displaying thesilver piece proudly. "Selfin, did he hold to accord?" A quicknod was his answer." Good then, here ye are, mate. More thanample pay for two loaves of bread."
"A silver. Bah, I charge ..." The gleam in his eyes andsurprised response that he had quickly hidden would've beenenough to dispel the truth in his haggling had it not been forCallahan's impatient lack of care.
"Shut up. I'm done bartering with half-wits andknuckle-dragging primates this day. A silver is well morethan what is owed. You and I both know it. I've more thanmet our time frame, and to top it off, I'm going to toss ye abone due to my generous mood. Two blocks east, three blocksnorth. That's where yer gonna move yer little stale bread cartso ye can actually make sales. Right 'ere, yer one block from afresh bakery and two blocks from a well-stocked inn. Where Itold ye to go is a frequent meeting spot for guards who wantquickies with the cheap streetwalkers and where a communeof those said streetwalkers spend their days." Helping hisfriend to his feet and then removing a loaf of bread from rightnext to the merchant, Callahan flashed his wry half grin and,without further verbal exchange, walked casually away.
Out of the merchant's sight and earshot, Callahan slappedthe back of Selfin's head. "Ye blighter! What in the fuck iswrong with ye? Damn near got yerself killed there. Couldn'twait a bit longer for me to show up, could ye?"
"Just wanted to get us some breakfast. He wasn't payingany attention. I almost—" Selfin cringed as another shotechoed off the back of his skull.
"Almost is an epitaph! Ye don't almost shit! Ye do it, or yedon't. Besides that, since when did we become common streetbums stealing bread? I mean, who the fuck wants to eat thisstale, bland excuse for food?" Callahan held up the loaf hecarried for emphasis.
"I'm really hungry. I could really use some of that. I don'tcare that it's stale." Licking his lips with longing, Selfin leanedslightly in toward the bread in Callahan's hands.
"Forget it. This is to pay Hemrick. I know ye haven't eatensince last night. So don't worry, I'll get ye a veritable feastif ye just give me a bit of time. This morning's unfortunatecircumstances have led to our good fortune. Just trust me, OK."Callahan patted his friend on the shoulder as they hurried onto find the ever-starving bum, Hemrick.
A few moments later found the two boys standing beforea ragged older man sitting in the shade of an alley next to afoul-smelling pile of old burlap sacks. "See, yer as odorous asever, my good friend. So what have ye to earn yer breakfast withthis fine morn, mate?" Callahan displayed the loaf to the man.
"Ugh, well, um ... the nobles be getting together in thenext week or two to select our next governor." Lookinghopefully, Hemrick feebly reached out for the bread.
"Bah, that bit of well-known trash isn't worth a bite of thisbread after me and Selfin have done and recycled it." Callahanpulled the bread well outside the bum's reach.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Forlorn Hemrick's eyesrefused to leave the bread.
"If yer not smart enough to decipher when I'm ridiculingye, then ye should just take it as gracious compliment that I'mendeavoring to expend the vast amount of effort necessaryto indulge ye with my presence." Callahan flashed his wryhalf smile. "Now clear the shit out yer throat and give mesomething worthwhile, or ye can watch as me and Selfin hereenjoy yer breakfast."
"Right, um, well, 'bout an hour past, I heard a mage andone of those Malaki scholars pass on by talking 'bout somemagic trinket they had on 'em and some other gibberish. Saidthey would talk more this afternoon at the inn called King'sGrace." A smile lifted his matted beard as he greedily dove intothe bread Callahan tossed to the ground before him. "Thankye, thank ye."
[Callahan] Malaki, god of knowledge and neutrality. Hisfollowers believe in learning, study, and complete apatheticindifference to all manner of conflict. They refuse to sidewith anything or anyone, abhor violence in any manner, andbelieve the pleasures of the body such as sex, alcohol, andsmoke detract from the strength of the mind. Absolute drab,head-in-the-sand morons, if ye ask me, and if ye don't ask me,it still doesn't negate the fact that they are oblivious to a littlefact called reality.
[Narrator] Just as Callahan turned to go, Hemrick spitbread crumbs as he made a gross attempt at a whisper. "Hopethere is something good in it for me. Yer always generous todear ole Hemrick, but I got a spot of info I know ye'll love."
"I might have a copper if ye hurry up. Yer stench andmannerisms are making me lose my appetite." Callahancouldn't help but look a bit eager. Hemrick rarely disappointedwhen it came to discovering rumor and gossip.
"Word in the underground, whispered among those in theknow, says that the crown is becoming quite angry with theLados nobles and their lack of compli ... complem ... com—"Stuttering and stumbling over the words, Hemrick continuedto make a horrid attempt at whispering.
"Do ye mean compliance, ye illiterate lout?" Callahaninterjected, stemming his frustration.
"So the king issued an offer of amnity, er, amer ... uh, yeknow, the thing where he doesn't lop off 'is 'ead." Hemrickstill bumbled.
"Amnesty, ye tit! Now out with it. My patience is runninga bit dry." Callahan impatiently tapped his foot in the dirt,producing a slight cloud of dust around the bum.
"Whatever, as to what I was saying, the top-shit kingoffered it to the pirate Namion in return for him doingno more or less here in the city than he does out to sea."Hemrick's eyes shot wide as saucers as he looked at the silverpiece dropped before him. "That's a bit more than I'm used to.Not that I am not grateful, but I am mighty curious as to whatye be wanting."
"For services past and future, me dear friend. Selfin andI will look into the mage and scholar. I just want ye to keepyer eyes and ears open and find out all ye can on this corsair.I think ye might be uncovering a gold mine with that one,mate, and I don't forget those who don't forget me." With awink and a skip in his step, Callahan guided Selfin on to theirnext stop: the King's Grace.
[Callahan] Many who would read this might ponderhow a twelve-year-old boy could adapt a level of articulationthat most likely far exceeds their own in a medieval fantasyrealm devoid of any formal education. I, my dear friends, aman autodidact, which most likely explains nothing to most. Iacquired the ability to learn, and I then refused to let it go.
I saw as a youth that those who had, read and wrote. Thosewho had not, did not. So I, with great frustration and effort,taught myself to decipher words, and from there, once I knewhow to read, I did so. In my exploratory endeavors into themany residences of Lados, I started to borrow manuscripts andbooks. Many were the candles I burned through in my littleloft.
[Reader 1] Our heroes walked into the King's Grace,where the young large-breasted blonde barmaids immediatelyindulged them in drink and fellatio.
[Callahan] Whoa! I'm twelve in this story, not even sureI knew what a hard-on was as yet, much less the workingsof oral pleasure. On top of that, don't ye think these womenwould have done and been nicked fer blowing off wee ones?Even in our world, that's not OK. Furthermore, I'm in nodefinition of the term a hero, and Selfin is a lackey at best.Finally, alcohol dulls cognitive thought, and at this point, Iendeavored to spy upon presumably intelligent individuals, soI required clarity of thought.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Callahan the Falcon by Chris Curtin. Copyright © 2013 by Chris Curtin. Excerpted by permission of Trafford Publishing.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.
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