Flight of the Falcon (Noble Heart Book 1) Read online

  He couldn’t let them get away! Noble started after the two gypsies just as the king and a group of his knights rushed into the town square on horseback. Someone had delivered the bad news to King Stephen already. Noble stopped for a moment. He must get word to the king about what he had seen! He tried to push through the mob to get near the king, but they were too far away, and there was too much noise and confusion for Noble to attract their attention. He had no choice but to follow the gypsies himself, he realized, or risk losing them in the throng of people. Already he could not see them, but if he hurried, maybe he could catch sight of them again.

  Noble darted around the people in his way and between their legs. He scrambled as fast as he could through the crowd in the direction he had seen the gypsies leave. He finally broke free of the crush of people and looked wildly down the street for signs of the two men. Nothing! He ran down to the corner and looked both ways on the cross street. There! The men were turning another corner and moving quickly now. He had to catch up before he lost them, but he couldn’t risk being seen by them, either.

  The shadows were growing long on the streets as the sun began to set. Noble ran from one building to the next, crouching in the shadows, hoping to remain out of sight. He came to the last corner and saw the men hurrying toward the town gates. There was nowhere to hide now. Noble would have to leave the shelter of the buildings and make a dash for the gates. He could only hope the men would not turn around and see him.

  He ran as quickly and quietly as he could. His footsteps sounded loud in his own ears, but apparently the men did not hear him for they continued on without turning and disappeared through the gates. Noble reached the gates a minute later and stopped. He cast one last look behind him, in the hope that someone would be coming from behind to help. There was no one. His friends were somewhere back in the town square. The king and his knights were nowhere to be seen. He was going alone, out into the dark, after criminals. He was afraid, but he could only imagine how little William must be feeling. He had to go, for there was no one else. “Help me, Lord,” he prayed. “Please go with me. There is no one that I can turn to now but You. Please help me find William.” Noble took a deep breath and plunged through the gates into the gathering darkness beyond—alone.

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  CHAPTER TWELVE

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  The Gypsy Camp

  Noble was relieved to see the gypsies still ahead of him. They were far down the road, and as the sun began to set they were nearly hidden in the gloom, but at least he had not lost them. Noble ran to the side of the road and darted from tree to tree, hoping he would not be seen by the men ahead.

  He did not have far to go. The gypsy men turned off the road a few minutes later and started through the woods. Noble cautiously pursued them. They seemed to be following a trail, but Noble stayed off to one side of the path so that he would not be seen. He tripped over tree roots in the darkness and even fell once. He hoped the men would not hear his clumsy passage through the forest.

  At last Noble saw firelight gleaming through the trees. The men veered from the trail toward the fire. He crept after them, as closely as he could, staying in the shadows of the trees where the firelight could not reach him. It was the gypsy camp! The men he had followed were greeted by a dozen or more other gypsies, both men and women. He could see children playing in the darkness and gathering firewood.

  Noble had heard of gypsies before—a wandering people who moved from place to place, selling their wares and telling fortunes. They had a bad reputation for thievery and cheating. Noble was not happy now about being in their camp. It appeared they had been there for some time. Ragged tents were scattered around the clearing. A few open wagons stood here and there, as well, and a makeshift pen held a dozen or more horses. Campfires lit the clearing, but still there were many shadowy spots where a person might be hidden away. He peered through the gloom now, trying to find William.

  Voices suddenly boomed out of the shadows to the right of him. Noble jumped at the sound and quickly slunk behind a tree. “Good work!” he heard one man congratulate another. Noble glanced around the trunk of the tree, straining to see the speaker through the gathering darkness. Several men were standing just a few feet away. One of them was one of the men he had followed. “Antonio, you and Eduardo did well today,” the speaker went on to say. “And that Maria—she is a marvel! How she slipped away with the boy under her cloak—it was amazing! No one noticed a thing. I am told the ransom note has been delivered to the castle, and soon I am sure the good king will be very willing to donate thousands of gold pieces to the treasure chests of the gypsies.” He grinned and rubbed his hands together while the other men all laughed. They moved away then out of Noble’s hearing.

  He had heard enough, though. Somewhere in the gypsy camp was Prince William, and the king would be forced to pay a large sum of money to get him back—if he did indeed get him back at all. Noble could not take a chance on that. He had to find the young prince and get him away tonight.

  Noble began to silently circle the camp, being careful to stay out of sight. He could not see William sitting out in the open. Children were running to and fro, calling out to one another, laughing and playing in the warmth of the summer evening. There was no bright blond head among the dark haired gypsy children, though. William would not be playing with the other children, anyway. He would be huddled in a little ball, frightened and miserable and longing for home. Noble’s heart went out to the little boy, wherever he was. “Hang on, William,” he silently urged. “You are not alone. You are in the Father’s hands.” Noble began crawling once more through the tall grass and underbrush. He prayed as he crawled. “I know you are with me, also, dear Lord. Go with me now, I pray, and guide me to the prince. Show me where to find him, and how to get him away from here when I do. I need Your help, my Lord. Guide me and, please Lord, protect us both.”

  He had no sooner finished praying when he suddenly drew back. He had almost stumbled into a lookout who was sitting against a tree on the edge of the forest. The man was smoking a pipe and had his eyes closed, but now as he watched, the gypsy turned his head in Noble’s direction and opened his eyes. The boy stopped motionless in his tracks and held his breath, praying the deep shadows would hide him from view. The gypsy lumbered to his feet and took a step in Noble’s direction. A cry from one of the children, though, drew his attention just then. “Yes, Anna, I am coming!” he shouted back to the child. The gypsy glanced once more into the darkness and then turned and walked away.

  Noble released his breath and went limp for a moment. It had been a close call—too close! He was shaking slightly as he carefully backed up and made a wide berth around the place where the guard had been sitting. A new guard could come to take his place at any moment, and Noble did not want to be nearby if he did.

  He would have to begin the search by checking each of the tents. He could clearly see there was no one in any of the wagons. If he did not find William in one of the tents, though, where could he be? Would the gypsies hide him somewhere outside the camp? Noble prayed it would not be so. He would have no idea where to look if that was the case.

  Noble kept going from tree to tree and shadow to shadow. At last he arrived in back of the first tent. He could hear voices inside and see shadows against the sides thrown by the torches within the tent. He had a small knife in the pouch at his side. He lay on his belly now and slowly, carefully cut a small slice in the bottom of the fabric. He put his eye to the hole and looked inside. Several people were in the tent, but there was no sign of William.

  Noble stayed there a few minutes to be sure the small boy was not hidden behind someone else. A pair of feet walked toward him and stopped just inches away from where Noble lay peering through the slit. For a second Noble thought he had been discovered, but the feet moved slowly away and no one sounded an alarm. He lay there for a minute more and then carefully, quietly moved on.

  He repeated the process and peeked into the
second tent. Again, no William. Noble went from tent to tent searching for the missing child. Many of them were empty, for most of the gypsies still sat around the campfires, but every now and then there would be someone inside the ragged shelter and Noble would hold his breath, fearful that one of the gypsies would happen to look down just as he cut through the fabric and see the blade of his little knife.

  At last, there was only one tent left. Noble prayed he would find the boy inside, for if he was not there, he had no idea where to look next. He had saved this tent for last, for it was out in the open with no trees or bushes nearby to guard him from sharp gypsy eyes. Now, though, he crept through the weeds surrounding the shelter and prayed he was hidden from sight. At least it was further from the fires, and the shadows here were deeper.

  There were no signs of life inside the tent. No light shone through, casting shadows of people moving about inside, and he heard no voices. Noble’s heart sank. He cut a slit in the bottom as he had with the others, and tried to peer inside. It was pitch black. The light from the campfires could not reach into the tent in this spot so far removed from the rest. Noble couldn’t see a thing, but he listened carefully, and finally, like the rustle of the wind in the trees, he heard the sound of breathing and a sniffle or two. Could it be? He did not dare call out, for fear it was someone other than William. Noble prayed for a miracle once more.

  Just then the full moon came out from behind the clouds and cast enough light that Noble could see a small shape huddled in a corner of the tent. He saw the shadow of a hand reach up to wipe away a tear. Noble hesitated but then whispered, “William?”

  The shape stiffened and a little voice said, “N-noble, is that you?”

  “Yes! Shhh! We have to get you out, but we must be very, very quiet.”

  “I’m tied up, Noble! I can’t move!”

  “I’m coming, William – just lie still.” Noble cut the slit longer until he could squeeze through. Just as he stuck his leg through the small opening, a loud noise started up in the camp. The gypsies were playing music and singing and dancing. Good! Maybe their noise would cover any sounds they made in their escape.

  Noble cut the ropes that bound Prince William. The little boy threw his arms around Noble’s neck and hugged him hard. He burst into tears again and tried to stifle their noise as best he could. Noble patted him on the back and said, “All is well, Your Highness. With God’s help I will get you back to your father and mother, but we must leave this place immediately, and go as swiftly and silently as we can. We have to get as far away as possible before they discover you are missing.”

  The child wiped his tears away, and followed Noble through the tear in the tent. Noble motioned for him to hold onto the back of his belt so they would not get separated in the dark. They moved as quietly as they could away from the camp crawling slowly through the grass and weeds until they reached the trees. At last they stood and slipped away through the forest. The full moon appeared in and out of the clouds and cast a bit of light on their way. The camp soon disappeared behind them, but the sound of the wild gypsy music followed long after the light of the fires had faded away.

  Noble finally stopped to get his bearings. He felt he must be moving in the right direction, but was afraid to go further until he was sure. How terrible it would be if they wandered in circles and ended up back in the gypsy camp!

  He took a moment to whisper to William, “Are you alright, Your Highness? Did they hurt you?”

  “N-no, but I was afraid, Noble! I was all alone in the dark! They left me there all by myself and it was scary!”

  “One thing I have learned, William, is that we are never alone when we put our faith in God. He will not leave us alone in our times of fear if we trust in Him. Now we must hurry away from here, but let us trust Him to protect us and guide us as we go, shall we not, William?”

  “Yes, Noble. Let’s go!”

  Noble looked around, trying to find something that looked familiar. The moon appeared from behind the clouds once more and Noble breathed a little sigh of relief. There! He recognized that rock and the big pine next to it. They were very close to the road now. He was certain of it.

  They had only taken a few steps forward when suddenly they heard the sound of hooves coming quickly down the road. Horses! It must be the king’s men looking for them! The horses left the road just then and entered the woods. They were coming straight towards them! Noble took a few eager steps forward.

  He had just lifted his hand, and opened his mouth to hail the riders when he realized they were not knights at all, but the Mullins brothers! He tried to melt back into the shadows, but too late! They had seen him! Noble grabbed Prince William’s hand and started to run. He had no idea why the two falconers would be in the forest at night, but one thing was sure—they could be up to no good.

  Noble and William ran as fast as they could, but they were no match for the horses, even under the trees. George and Frederick quickly penned them in between them until there was no place left to run. They were trapped!

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  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

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  Fly to the Rescue!

  “So, young Noble! You stand in the way of what we want once again!” George snarled. “For the last time, though, I do assure you!”

  “Tie them up!” Frederick ordered as his brother dismounted from his horse. “We were fools to trust the gypsies to hold onto the prince if a boy such as this can rescue him out from under their very noses. We’ll take them back there, but heads will roll for this! The gypsies have just lost a good portion of their share of the ransom!”

  Noble felt sick. He had lead the young prince right into the scoundrels’ arms! And now he knew the Mullins brothers were part of the awful scheme, as well. In fact, by the sound of it, they were probably behind the whole thing! Somehow, he had to find a way to free himself and the prince. George was binding their arms and feet and tying them to a tree while Frederick stood over them with a sword in his hand. Noble had no doubt he could have defeated either one of the brothers with a sword if he had had one, but all he had with him was the small knife in his pouch, and with his arms bound he couldn’t reach it.

  The brothers had moved away and were arguing now. Noble could not hear all that they were saying, but he soon realized they were fighting over whether to take them back themselves to the gypsy camp now, or to have some of the gypsies come and get them.

  “I’ll not get my hands dirty in this, I tell you, George!” Frederick finally said loudly enough for Noble to hear. “Let the gypsies do the dirty work while we take the lion’s share of the ransom! Besides, the Talbot boy is large enough that he could do some damage to either one of us, and he has been training with the knights, as well. Let the gypsies worry about him!”

  “You’re a coward!” his brother accused him. “Afraid of a mere boy!”

  “Not a coward—simply using my brain! Try to use yours for once, George!”

  As they continued to argue Noble found the opportunity to whisper, “William, can you reach inside my pouch and get my knife? Stretch hard. There! Now draw it out carefully and slip it into my hand. Good boy!” William had managed to wriggle a few inches closer to Noble, and though the rope cut into his wrists, the little boy did not give up, but worked with all his might to get his small fingers into the pouch and around the knife.

  Noble kept his eyes on the Mullins brothers as he carefully slid the blade under the rope that bound him. He quickly sliced through the rope and cautiously reached down to cut the ropes around his ankles. The brothers were too busy fighting to notice. Noble slit the ropes around the prince’s arms and feet, as well, and holding his finger to his lips he motioned for William to follow him as he slipped behind the tree.

  They crept as silently as they were able to through the trees and had just stood to their feet to make a run for it when an angry shout rang out behind them. The Mullins brothers had finally discovered they were gone, and the chase was on!
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  Noble grabbed William’s hand and once again they ran for their lives. His heart was pounding. He knew the road was nearby, but now he was confused as to the direction. The moon was hidden once more and it was difficult to see. At last he realized that the trees were thinning around them. The road had to be just ahead! Could they reach it, though, before the men caught up with them? And what would happen once they reached the road and the horses could gallop more quickly even than they had in the forest? They would never be able to outrun them!

  “Father! Lord! Help us! Help!” he prayed as they ran. Just then the clouds parted and the moon came out once more, a huge silvery disc in a sky as black as velvet. And far above them, past the treetops, Noble saw a beautiful sight. A peregrine falcon was outlined against the moon as it soared through the heavens! Fly! Noble knew it must be her—looking for them!

  Noble let out a piercing whistle. Fly answered with her own shrill shriek and dove toward them. Too late, though! The Mullins brothers were upon them once again! The horses were breathing down their necks now and Frederick was low in the saddle, reaching for William.

  Fly attacked the men, ripping at them with her fierce, razor-sharp talons and beak. All thoughts of William and Noble disappeared as the brothers covered their heads with their arms and tried to weave and duck away from the diving terror from above. The horses bolted and tossed their riders onto the ground. The air was filled with Fly’s angry shrieks, the men’s screams and the frightened whinnying of the horses.