For a long time, High Priest Tavin and his family didn’t want to believe it was true.  But as the day faded into night, they could no longer deny it.  Those girls weren’t coming back with the bird.  They had never intended to find it in the first place.

Their youngest daughter began to sob- she was the one who missed the rocfinch most- and Sameander took her into her arms to comfort her.  She looked at her husband, her lovely face creased in anguish.  “In our own house,” she whispered, “How can anybody behave like that?”

High Priest Tavin shook his head grimly.  It hardly bore thinking about.  It seemed as though loyalty and deference were foreign concepts at Dovecote Gardens these days.  And to think their family had once trusted them so!

It was his oldest son, Onrey, who finally roused the High Priest from these dark thoughts.  He waited for the women to quiet their sobs and sighs, and then raised his powerful young voice above the throng.  “I’ll go to Dovecote Gardens,” he announced, “I won’t leave until they’ve agreed to put things right.”

Sameander’s hand went to her heart.  “Would you really do that?” she gasped.

Onrey looked at her in surprise.  “It’s my duty, mother.”

High Priest Tavin felt himself quite touched by his son’s bravery.  Barely seventeen years old, and already willing to go out and defend his family name.  “A prayer circle,” he announced, and drew his wife and children around him, hand in hand, o that they could begin.

Each family member took their turn in explaining why they felt they were blessed at this moment.  Onrey’s brothers and sisters said what was expected- they were blessed because Onrey might be able to get their pet back, they were blessed because they might hear from him what Dovecote Gardens looked like after so long.  Sameander counted herself blessed for having such a brave, high-minded son.  Finally, it was High Priest Tavin’s turn to speak.  “I am blessed,” he told them, “because today, we are addressing a two-hundred-year-old wrong.  If our ancestors had thought to do this at the time- to go to Dovecote Gardens and demand justice- then many of the terrible things that have happened since might never have come to pass.  I am blessed to know that there are limits to the indignities that can be placed on Tavin Chapel.  The people of Dovecote Gardens should have considered that from the start.”

*

Onrey’s father had told him the story countless times.  Two hundred years ago, the owner of Dovecote Gardens had been a good man and a close friend to the High Priest at the time.  The two of them had planned for Tavin Chapel and the rest of Kindling Grove to take their place in the alliance of communities around them, and direct them to new and better things.  But sadly, all this was not to be.  The owner died suddenly, and his stepson- a cruel, wicked man- wrested control of the estate from his true children. Since then, the Tavin family had been cut off from Dovecote Gardens and the rest of the alliance, forced to live like exiles in disgrace.

Onrey said goodbye to his parents and set out on foot.  Dovecote Gardens would be expecting him (if they expected him to come at all) to arrive on horseback, waving a sword in the air.  He would take them by surprise instead.

He did have a sword, of course; the servants had worked hard to find him the right clothes and weapons for the journey.  Most of it had been in the family for centuries.  The leather jerkin on his chest had belonged to his ancestor of two hundred years ago, the very one who had been betrayed by the owners of Dovecote Gardens.  At a moment like this, it was impossible not to feel the weight of history upon you.

Onrey Tavin set out down the mountain, towards the paths and the white walls, on the way to reclaim his birthright.

(To be continued)