Flight of the Nighthawks Read Online Free PDF Page B

to congratulate the engaged couple, while Tad and Zane continued to pout. Caleb indicated that Marie should join the throng, and said, “Come with me, boys. I’ve got something special for an occasion such as this.”
    The boys looked like they were about to argue, but one glance from their mother caused them to nod and follow Caleb obediently.
    He led them to a wagon behind the one that had carried the ale casks. Night was fast approaching and the festival was becoming more raucous. One of the teamsters sat on a buckboard, watching the town bestow its best wishes on the newly betrothed. The man was not a local, so he felt no need to join in, and remained contented with eating and drinking ale.
    â€œThomas,” said Caleb, greeting him.
    â€œEvening,” said the wagoneer.
    â€œYou have that box up there?”
    â€œIt’s under that tarp, Caleb.”
    Caleb found the box and pulled it toward the rear of the wagon. Drawing out his large hunting knife, he used the stout blade to pry open the lid, exposing a dozen bottles of amber liquid. He picked one out and held it up to the lantern light.
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Tad.
    â€œSomething I discovered on my travels down in Kinnoch County.”
    â€œLooks like brandy,” said Zane. “The color, I mean.”
    â€œNot brandy, but you’ve a good eye.” Caleb turned, and sat on the back of the wagon, letting his feet dangle. “Brandy’s just boiled wine, this is something else.
    â€œIn Kinnoch they have a way to distill a mash of grain, slowly cooking it over fires fed by peat, and then the brew is aged in casks. When it’s made badly, it can peel the paint off a warship’s hull, but when it’s made well—” He bit the cork and pulled it out.
    With his free hand he felt around in the box and produced a small cup of glass. “You can’t drink this out of clay or metal, boys. It’ll foul the taste.”
    â€œWhat is it?” asked Tad.
    â€œThey call it whiskey,” said Caleb, filling the small glass to the top.
    â€œThat’s not very much.” Zane’s eyes narrowed as he regarded the tiny vessel which held no more than two or three ounces of liquid.
    â€œA little is more than enough,” said Caleb, tipping the contents of the glass into his mouth and swallowing. “Ah,” he said. “You try it.”
    He produced another glass and filled them both. “You can learn to sip this later, boys. Just toss it back and swallow for now.”
    The boys did as instructed, and an instant later both were coughing furiously, with their eyes watering. Zane said in a hoarse voice, “Damn me, Caleb, are you trying to poison us?”
    â€œIt takes a little getting used to, Zane, but you’ll grow to love it.”
    â€œIt burns like a hot coal,” said Tad, wiping at his eyes with the sleeve of his tunic.
    â€œGive it a minute,” said Caleb. “It’ll warm your gut.”
    Zane smacked his lips. “Not that I think it’s good, but let me try another.”
    Caleb poured again and the boys drank. This time there was no coughing, but their eyes continued to water.
    â€œI think I’ll stick to ale,” said Tad.
    â€œI don’t know,” said Zane. “There’s something about it I rather like.”
    â€œYou’re a young man of promise, Zane Caffrey,” said Caleb.
    Laughing, Tad said, “Whoa. I can feel it going to my head!”
    â€œThe Kinnoch men say it ‘has a kick,’ and they know of what they speak.”
    â€œWhat are you going to do with it?” said Tad, indicating the other cases.
    â€œI’m taking it to my father, as a gift. There’s not a lot that’s new to him, so I thought he might enjoy this.”
    â€œWhy are you giving us this?” asked Tad. “I mean, thank you, but why?”
    â€œTo take your mind off an imagined slight,” said Caleb. “If I