A Pride of Gryphons

by Kristen S. Walker

But he needed her help to run the Storm Petrels without asking Galenos for advice. If he and his brother had different goals, then he needed to figure out how to get what he wanted on his own. Navera would know what to do.

  Because so long as the company only did what Galenos wanted, to defend Kyratia and maintain peace, Varranor would never make a name for himself. Even if he was the commander in name, people would still see him as secondary to his older brother. It didn’t seem fair, after all of the years when Varranor had fought to build up Galenos’s reputation and earn him glory as a warlord, that his brother would try to hold him back from doing the same for himself.

  There was not enough money in mercenary work unless they could conquer and plunder other cities. There was not enough glory in winning a battle as the defender or killing the occasional monster to protect a few puny farms. Soldiers relied on war, something Navera had taught them. She would help them get out from under Galenos’s thumb and find a way to take the company to the next level. Then nothing could stop them.

  Orivan I

  Orivan smiled to himself as he walked away from the commander’s office. After months of trying to catch Varranor’s eye, he’d finally got his attention with a well-timed joke. Even better, he’d earned a smile and a wink. He couldn’t have planned it better in his wildest dreams.

  When he was sure he was alone, he leaned back against a wall and closed his eyes, replaying the exchange in his mind. It was over so quickly, but his whole body still tingled with excitement. He’d taken forever just getting up the courage to be around Varranor. He knew how busy the commander was now that he was in charge, and he’d never expected to be noticed by someone with such a high rank above him.

  But it was hard not to be captivated by him. Even after taking over command from his brother, Varranor was still full of humor and charm, talking to all of the riders like they were his equals. He was tall and handsome in a way that Orivan had never seen before. He could have picked someone easier to fall for, but it seemed that he couldn’t control his heart anymore now than he could growing up in the islands. But now it seemed like things might finally be turning around for him.

  The tread of heavy boots roused him from his moment of triumph. Orivan’s eyes opened and he automatically snapped to attention, then added a salute when he saw Navera bearing down on him in the hallway.

  “Oh, good, you waited for me,” she said, flicking a quick salute at him. “Walk with me outside.”

  He fell into step behind the sergeant, a position he was growing used to. All of the other rookie riders from his graduated class had been assigned to permanent positions in marewing flights—except for Korinna, who had become duchess—but he’d never left Sergeant Navera’s tutelage. She asked him to stay with her for additional training of some sort, but he didn’t know if that was because she saw promise in him or thought he wasn’t up to the standards of the other riders. He felt more like a glorified clerk, shadowing her in her regular duties and attending most of her officers’ meetings, but he couldn’t really complain. Following Navera sometimes brought him into contact with Varranor, and today that proximity had finally paid off.

  When they reached the door, Orivan stepped ahead to open it for Navera, then followed her outside. She led him away from the building for some distance before she finally turned to face him.

  “The Warlord has asked me to become his second-in-command,” she said with her usual frankness. “I’m considering his proposal, but I have concerns about the training program for new riders.”

  Orivan didn’t know what to say, so he just nodded politely.

  Navera looked up at the sky. “He had a good suggestion for my replacement, too, but I think it will make things a little… personally awkward.” She looked back at him. “So when I train Itychia to take my position, I thought it would ease the tension by adding an assistant or two, and an extra hand will help considering that we’re doubling the number of candidates in hopes of getting more riders. Are you interested?”

  His jaw dropped open. This wasn’t what he’d been expecting at all. “Me?” His voice cracked on the word. He cleared his throat, struggling to regain his composure. “I mean, I’m flattered by the opportunity, but I—I’m so new at this. Don’t you want more experienced riders to teach them?”

  “That was why I became the training sergeant, yes.” She gestured at the fortress around them. “But all of the most experienced riders are already in position as officers, or plan on retiring within the next year. It’s time to see some new blood rising through the ranks again, a new generation who will lead for years to come.”

  He looked around, seeing Fort Ropytos in a new light. He could take responsibility for these walls and the soldiers who fought to defend them. Still, he wondered why he was being chosen so early, instead of other riders with at least a few years of experience under their belt. “I’ve barely fought at all, and I’ve never been a great leader. Why choose me?”

  She smiled. “No, you’re not a leader, but you’ve proven to be a good assistant, and that’s what you’d be doing.” She stepped closer, dropping her voice to a whisper. “And don’t tell her I said this, but Itychia can come off as very gruff with people that she doesn’t know. I need someone to help her show a little compassion to the new candidates.”

  He looked down at the ground bashfully. It was true, when they’d trained together he’d felt Itychia was aloof, but he thought she was hardened by her prior experience in the company and he was overly sensitive as a rookie. He’d never thought of it as a strength. “I guess I could try. Thank you,” he added quickly, realizing that he hadn’t expressed his gratitude yet. This whole conversation had taken him by surprise.

  Navera stepped back with a smile. “I’m happy to have you. Besides, it will be good to get you out of this place for a few months. I was worried about the Warlord paying too much attention to you today.”

  Orivan’s head snapped up. Was that why she’d chosen him, to get him away from Varranor? “Pardon me, but we were just joking around. What’s wrong with that?” he asked carefully.

  She sighed and shook her head. “Look, I’ve seen those puppy dog eyes you get every time he walks in the room. I thought it was harmless enough until he finally took notice.” She put her hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me, because I’m telling you this for your own good—stay away from Varranor. All he’ll do is break your heart.”

  He swallowed nervously. He’d never thought his feelings could be so obvious for someone else to read them, but it seemed he wouldn’t be able to deny them now that she’d called him out. “I know the Warlord has a reputation, but I don’t see what the harm could be—”

  She gripped his shoulder harder. “All joking aside, he’s more than earned his reputation, and that’s because he just doesn’t care enough to stick with anyone for more than a few months.” Her eyes bored into him as if she could see straight into his heart. “You care too much, and you may think that you’ll be the one to change him, but it’s been tried before and it never works out. When I said that he should find a marewing rider for his paramour, I didn’t mean you.”

  He froze in place, at a loss for words once again. All of his happy dreams from earlier were crashing down around him. Yes, in his secret heart, he had imagined that things would work out between him and Varranor—that his feelings went beyond simple attraction, and the Warlord would have no choice but to return them—and Navera was saying exactly what he’d feared. He respected her opinion as his mentor, and he couldn’t deny the truth of what she was saying.

  He slumped his shoulders and nodded in defeat. “You’re right,” he murmured. “I’ve been a fool. Maybe it would be better for me to leave for a while and forget.”

  Navera patted him on the back reassuringly. “I’m sorry to disappoint you, but once you give up this infatuation, you could meet someone more suited to you.” She winked and gestured at the training field of new recruits. “You never know, the right person for you could be here already
. You can get rather close to someone when you’re teaching them every day.”

  Orivan thought of the relationship between Navera and Itychia. It had been strained during their earlier training, before Itychia caught her second marewing, but now they seemed to be as close as any married couple he’d known. But his throat closed up, making it too hard to speak, so he just nodded. He’d cry out his disappointment in private and then try to put the whole mess behind him.

  Sympaia I

  Pelagia sank gratefully onto the heavily-cushioned couch and felt her old bones finally able to rest. She wanted nothing more than to close her eyes for a moment, but she wouldn’t dare show weakness, even after weeks of walking on dusty roads and sleeping on the hard ground. Imagine her, the most respected Councilor of Kyratia and the representative of the Merchants Guild, being forced to sleep on the ground! But when that upstart Galenos had banished her along with the other councilors and the priests Varula, he hadn’t permitted them to buy passage on a ship out of the city, or given them any money at all for travel. If he wanted them gone, the least he could have done was make the journey less humiliating.

  They’d reached Sympaia at last, and Pelagia immediately contacted Thais, a member of the Musicians Guild who had been on Kyratia’s Council but secretly acted as a spy for Sympaia. At the time when she’d discovered Thais’s treachery, she’d banished the woman herself and was happy to be rid of her, but now the sandal was on the other foot. She hated to beg for help, but she had no other contacts to rely on in the rival city, and every other city was even farther away.

  Fortunately, Thais had been gracious and arranged a meeting with the duke of Sympaia, Kleon Phloros. Within a day of arriving in the city, Pelagia and the other exiles were invited up to Chesane Palace. They were taken to beautiful gardens furnished with comfortable couches and served refreshments by the palace servants. Their lavish welcome was the first time any of them had a taste of their old lifestyles since they were arrested in Kyratia months ago.

  Thais came out to greet them first. The younger woman smiled kindly, bending down to kiss each of them on their cheeks like old friends before taking her own seat, but Pelagia felt her precarious position without any reminder. It had been so long since she wasn’t the one with the upper hand.

  Thais smoothed out her dress and accepted a chilled glass of juice from a servant, murmuring the usual pleasantries to everyone. It was several minutes before she came around to the reason for their visit. “I was so sorry to hear of your arrest last year,” she said, placing her hand over her heart. “And is it true that Warlord Galenos seized all of your money and property, leaving your families penniless? We all knew that he was ruthless, but I never expected him to go so far.” She shook her head.

  Pelagia pushed herself up to a sitting position. She may be tired, but she could still hold her head up high. “Everything that we feared from him is coming to pass. He says that he’s given control of the mercenary company to his brother, but he’s obviously still giving orders. Imagine how many new soldiers he must be recruiting right now with all of the money he’s stolen from us.” She glanced around at the other exiles, who nodded, faces drawn and furrowed with concern. “It won’t be long before he looks for another city to conquer, and Sympaia is the closest neighbor. Galenos must be stopped before he tries to take over all of Seirenia.”

  Thais frowned, nodding slowly, but she was far too calm for the seriousness of the news. “Of course, His Grace shares your fears,” she explained, a hint of superiority slipping into her tone. “He’s interrupted his busy schedule to meet with you, and he should be joining us in a few moments. But I should warn you.” She paused, her cool gaze scanning all of the exiles. “He has to be very careful about how he proceeds now that you’ve arrived. We don’t want to make any overt acts of war prematurely.”

  Pelagia pursed her lips together and nodded. She already didn’t like where this conversation was headed. Despite the obvious threat, it seemed as if Sympaia was looking for any excuse to keep from committing to a fight.

  A herald announced Duke Kleon’s arrival. Pelagia and the others got to their feet, bowing deeply as he entered the room.

  Kleon was a man on the verge of middle age, with an expanding waistline that many nobles had, but his eyes darted around the room with calculating intelligence. He went straight to Pelagia, raising her up with a soft touch and kissing her cheeks. “Welcome to Sympaia,” he said, gesturing for the others to rise as well. “Please, sit down. I know you had an arduous journey to come here.”

  He sank down with a sigh as if he’d had his own long walk, sharing a couch with Thais. He put his arm around the musician with surprising familiarity for a ruler and whispered something in her ear. She laughed, but it sounded more like forced politeness than real humor.

  Several other men entered the room in the duke’s retinue. The oldest one shared a family resemblance to Kleon, which meant that he was probably an advisor to the duke. Kleon didn’t have a traditional Council made up with representatives from the city’s guilds, claiming to trust no one but his own family, choosing only advisors that were related to him. It hadn’t come up in Thais’s background check, or she would never have been allowed to join Kyratia’s Council, but it wouldn’t surprise Pelagia if the spy was distantly connected to the Phloros family tree in some way.

  Kleon called for more food and drinks, beaming at the exiles. “I want you all to know that you are honored guests in my household. I’ve heard so much about you, especially Pelagia—it feels like we already know each other from years of sharing the same border.” He gestured to her across the garden. “Sometimes trading partners, sometimes rivals, but never truly enemies. And now circumstances may finally allow us to be friends.”

  Pelagia smiled thinly. Of course the duke had acted as her enemy in the past, most recently when he used information from Thais to attack the shared border between the two city-states, but she would pretend not to remember those instances if he was willing to overlook them now. “Thank you for your hospitality and meeting with us on such short notice. I would welcome your friendship, especially in uniting against the greatest enemy of our time.”

  Kleon nodded solemnly. “Yes, of course, we are very troubled by the latest news from Kyratia.” He shook his head, but the elaborate curls in his hair barely moved with the gesture; there must be some ointment which kept them in place. “The gods themselves should be angered that such a dangerous mercenary has come to rule a city. Power in the wrong hands could spell disaster for all of us.”

  Pelagia leaned forward, clasping her hands together like a supplicant. “Then please, Your Grace, let us fight this warlord together. We do not have much to offer in the fight, but we all have personal experience with Galenos that may yield valuable insights into his movements, and these priests—” She gestured to the clergy of Varula. “They have powers which could help defeat his mercenaries.”

  Kleon’s eyes lit up and he looked at the priests. “Ah, yes! I’ve heard about the amazing feats that you performed with wyld magic.” His excitement faded into a frown. “But I also heard that you had some trouble with keeping it under control. Didn’t the head priest die in some kind of terrible accident?”

  One of the priests, Xeros, made a sign to avert evil. “Varula Soma died as he lived, sacrificing himself for the good of the people. The god Varula will choose another representative to take his place.” He nodded to the other priests. “We’ve also discussed the problem amongst ourselves, and we think we understand what might have gone wrong in Kyratia. With just a few resources to help us test the theory, we could be able to turn that knowledge to our advantage in the next fight.”

  Pelagia pressed her lips together to hide her smile of pride when Xeros spoke. There was no official replacement for the position of Varula Soma, but she could see the other priests looked to him for guidance. He was a natural leader—a trait he’d inherited from her, although he’d never acknowledge that. He’d stopped calling her Mother the
day that he’d entered the priesthood, but that didn’t prevent her from privately admiring his rise to power. She’d dedicated herself to Varula for the sake of her son, but it was actually for him that she’d done so much for the temple.

  Kleon raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Really? I’m fascinated to learn more about this. Perhaps we could come to some agreement.”

  The older courtier who had come in with the duke’s retinue stepped forward and whispered in Kleon’s ear.

  Kleon’s face fell. “However, my uncle Hesperos is right,” he said with a sigh. He shook his head again. “Currently, Kyratia has yet to make any offensive moves beyond their own borders, so we can’t be seen to take any action against them. The mere suggestion of aggression on our part could spark the very war we fear.” He smiled sympathetically at Pelagia. “I hope you understand that I want to help you, but my hands are tied.”

  Pelagia bit back her disappointment and bowed her head. “Of course, Your Grace.”

  Kleon got to his feet, forcing the others to stand respectfully. “You are welcome as my guests until you can find another place in the city, and I am happy to accept you as citizens to our fair land.” He indicated the palace with a sweeping gesture. “May I suggest that you all contact your representative guilds here in the city for local positions? I’m sure the local Merchants, for example, would benefit from your many years of expertise.” He smiled at Pelagia, then turned to the priests. “We also have a local shrine to Varula here. I’m sure it’s not as large as the temple you were used to in Kyratia, but they would probably be able to find you a place.”

  Pelagia clenched her fists together at his casual dismissal, but she wasn’t willing to give up yet. It might be months or a year from now when Galenos made his move, and Kleon was scrambling for any help in fighting back against Kyratia’s growing power, but she would wait at the ready until he called on her. She bowed deeply again to the duke, showing the utmost respect for her new ruler. “Thank you for your generosity, my liege. We would be lost without your kindness.”