Free Gunns & Roses by Karen Kelly

event was set to begin any minute. They paused at the edge of the field and scanned the people swarming around its perimeter.
    A whistle cut through all the bustle. Annie recognized it as Ian’s. She’d heard him use it to call Tartan often enough. Like ladies watching a tennis match, all four heads swiveled over to the left where Ian and Wally were waving at them.
    “I’d have something to say to our mayor about being called like a schnauzer,” said Alice, “except it does look like he and Wally have staked out a great location for watching the falconry demonstration.”
    Peggy swung Emily’s hand as they all made their way over to the men. “And we can’t deny it was effective. I think we could have heard that whistle over at MacTavish’s.”
    Ian wore an apologetic expression as the women came close. “Please forgive my method of communication. The multitudes were pressing in, and we were concerned you wouldn’t be able to find us.”
    “And we wanted to make sure there was enough room for all of us,” Wally added. He gestured at the chairs he and Ian had retrieved from the car and had set down right behind the flagged partition.
    “We’ll make allowances for today,” Annie replied as regally as she could while holding back a grin.
    Peggy put her hands on her hips. “Yeah. Just don’t try it in Stony Point if you ever want a hot cup of coffee at the diner again, Mr. Mayor.”
    “Ouch!” Ian clapped his right hand over his heart. “That’s a hard, hard punishment, don’t you think?”
    “That’s my wife for you, Ian,” said Wally. “Hard as nails … when she’s not serving folks.” His shy grin slid across his face as he looked at the love of his life.
    “And being their friend,” added Alice.
    “And making ’em soup,” offered Emily.
    “And —” Annie began.
    “And that’s enough!” Peggy was on the verge of blushing and didn’t intend to let that happen. “Didn’t we come here to watch the falconers?” She gestured at the field, where a man and woman had strode from opposite ends to meet in the middle and now stood back to back. A huge owl was perched on the woman’s well-protected forearm.
    Ian maneuvered his way next to Annie and leaned down to whisper, “Did you find out anything?”
    “A little,” Annie whispered back. “Nothing big. I’ll tell you later.”
    Nodding, Ian turned his attention back to the field, where the two falconers were introducing themselves to the audience.
    “Welcome!” The woman spoke first into the microphone that extended from her ear to in front of her mouth. “I am Master Falconer Brooke, and this is Gandalf, a two-year-old great horned owl. I should point out that falconry today generally refers to hunting with any trained bird of prey.” She gestured to the man with her. “Our other Master Falconer, Finley, will assist me in introducing you to the amazing hunting abilities of Gandalf.” The dark-haired man with a neatly trimmed beard bowed in response to the audience’s applause.
    Peggy turned to her friends. “Do you suppose those are their first or last names?”
    “Giving their first names makes sense to me, but it’s hard to tell,” answered Alice.
    Wally opened the Games brochure and skimmed through the information. “No names listed for the demonstrators.”
    “We can ask around afterwards,” suggested Ian. Nodding their agreement, the friends turned their attention back to the field. Annie had remained silent, her eyes riveted to the falconers. Were they related in any way to the hawk and rose symbol on the ferrule?
    “Gandalf has been with me since I watched him hatch in my kitchen,” Brooke told them. “I was the first thing he saw and the first source of his food. He feeds himself now, but he always looks for me when he comes in from the hunt.”
    As the falconer informed the crowd of Gandalf’s ability to carry animals several times his own weight in his powerful talons, the owl stood motionless on the