CHAPTER THREE
C LAUDIA DECIDED TO start small when it came to desensitising Tomas to her ongoing presence in his life. She owned a falconer’s training journal written in 1770 that she’d often found useful, so she had it forwarded to her and left it on his desk with a note to look at page sixty-three and see if he agreed with the method presented for treating bumblefoot. That had led to a chance encounter out by aviary three and a lively argument about the merits or otherwise of using harsh chemicals to clean perches. Tomas had argued against it, which left Claudia to take the for position.
Neither had realised how loud they’d been getting until one of the apprentices had interrupted, with every indication of having been trying to get their attention for a while.
‘What about using a good old antiseptic soap, sunshine, and using a variety of perches and rotating them in and out?’ he’d suggested.
There’d really been no way to argue with that. Tomas had apologised for his temper, headed for open space and refused to re-engage with her for weeks .
‘He’s not one for raising his voice,’ his most senior apprentice explained when Tomas rescheduled her appointment with him yet again because of some new crisis that took him away from the fortress. ‘He’ll be kicking himself about the argument he got into with you last time you and he butted heads and trying to make sure it never happens again.’
Claudia stared at the older man, bewildered. ‘But he didn’t lose his cool. We were having a spirited intellectual debate. No falcon feet got damaged in the process.’
‘He raised his voice. To him that’s a failing.’
Tomas Sokolov was a big baby. A big, beautiful, unforgettable infant.
‘Is there anything I can help you with?’ the man continued.
‘I want to set a date for bringing two of my falcons here permanently.’
‘With due respect, ma’am, you’re the Crown Princess. Pretty sure you can do that whenever you feel like it.’
‘I know. But I know it’ll be a stretch on resources, and he said there was an information sheet I had to fill out...’ And she’d wanted to see him again... ‘He wasn’t really upset about that loud conversation, was he?’ She refused to call it an argument.
‘It’s like this. Staying calm and in control is like the first commandment around here. We need it when handling the birds. We need it when conveying information respectfully and effectively to titled idiots who think they know everything about falcons when really they know nothing.’
‘You mean me.’
‘No, ma’am. No one here has any complaints about the way you handle and care for the birds. But you don’t know Tomas, if I may say. And he doesn’t do strong emotions. He locks that sh—stuff down. Maybe he got trained to bank it down hard, you know? Maybe it’s just his way. But riling him’s not the way to make a connection. He won’t stick around for it.’
‘So you’re saying it’d be a bad idea if I confessed to him that I quite liked seeing him all heated, and that I was enjoying myself. Immensely. He’s very, ah—’ she waved a gloved hand around in the air to explain what she meant while she searched for the right word ‘—compelling.’
The man couldn’t quite hide his amusement. ‘Right.’
‘But I certainly don’t want to rouse his, ah—’
‘Passions,’ supplied the apprentice, suspiciously deadpan.
‘Right. I wouldn’t want to rouse those to the point of no return. That would be bad.’
‘Nah, do it. Do him good,’ said another apprentice, sticking his head out of an enclosure to join the conversation. ‘Junior apprentice Bran at your service, Your Highness.’
‘Hello.’ So many apprentices with advice and no Tomas. ‘Call me Claudia.’
‘No can do, ma’am. But I’m the one in charge of the paperwork this week and if you don’t mind walking with me to the office I can print out those information sheets you’re after.’
‘Great. And when will Tomas be returning?’
‘The problem is that when he sees you flying in, he heads out,’ said the ever-helpful Bran.
‘Tell him he’s a coward.’
Bran laughed long and loud and the older apprentice simply shook his head. ‘Yeah, I don’t think anyone’s going to be telling the Master Falconer that.’