A Pride of Gryphons

by Kristen S. Walker

Orivan gave a proud smile. “The girl is Tatiana, and the boy is Philagros. They were both recruited from the same village.”

  Korinna looked over at him with one eyebrow raised. “Are you sure? She looked like a northerner.”

  Galenos sighed and scooted closer on the log to put his arm around her. “Plenty of so-called ‘foreigners’ are actually from here. I told you before that Varranor and I both moved to Mezzarion when we were so young that we don’t remember Khazeem at all.”

  She leaned into him for warmth. The heat was leaving with the end of summer, and in the narrow valley, shadows started spreading early across their campsite. “Yes, but you’re both named in Meresto. She had a northern name, so I didn’t think she was born here.”

  He shrugged again. “That doesn’t mean anything. Maybe her parents wanted her to keep a northern name—our father renamed us to help us fit in, but not every family makes the same choice.”

  She blinked up at him in surprise. “I didn’t know you had another name. What was it?”

  Galenos met his brother’s eyes, then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter. You’d probably have trouble pronouncing it.”

  Korinna remembered the other man she’d met from Khazeem, a candidate who had lost one of his hands when he tried to catch a marewing. Her tongue had tripped over the name ‘Mkumba’ many times. It felt weird to think of her husband and brother-in-law with other names, as if they were different people—but if he was right that he didn’t even remember his first years in his homeland, maybe he’d never gotten used to being called by his foreign name. She wondered if it offended him that she asked.

  Varranor brightened up, clapping his hands together. “Well, no matter how long it’s been, none of us ever forget the feeling of our first flight.” He uncorked another bottle of wine and raised it up. “Let’s drink to the new riders and their success! May there be many more!”

  Korinna joined in the hearty cheering, and even took a sip of the wine when it was offered to her—but no more than a taste. “To the new riders!”

  She watched eagerly over the next few days as more marewings and their riders came back from the marsh, twenty-three pairs in total—a remarkably high number. She wanted to go and personally congratulate them, but Navera and Itychia kept them apart for private lessons and wouldn’t let anyone else get close. It was critical that they formed a bond and learned to control their mounts before they got around strangers. She would have to meet them another time. Instead, she enjoyed camping out and spending time with her friends.

  ***

  On the evening after Korinna and Galenos returned from Neusici Valley, Egina and her children welcomed them back to their home with an elaborate feast. Bacon-wrapped dates stuffed with sausages, chicken simmered in white wine with capers and paprika, honey-glazed shrimp and apples, and sticky-sweet baklava for dessert. The rich food overwhelmed her stomach so she couldn’t enjoy the meal. She picked at the dishes, trying to do Egina’s cooking justice, but before long she had to excuse herself to go lay down.

  She wanted fresh air, or the closest she could get to it in the heart of the city, so she went to the couch on her balcony outside of her room, overlooking the house’s central courtyard. Soon, the winter rains would force them to drag all of the furniture back inside. The thought of being cooped up inside stuffy rooms while the storms made everything damp for the next eight months filled her with dread.

  Galenos came up after supper was finished and sat on the edge of her couch, looking down on her with a frown. “I was afraid that the cloudfruit harvest would wear you out,” he said with a heavy sigh. “We haven’t lived that rough life in months. I’m sorry that I agreed to go.”

  Korinna shook her head and reached out for his hand. “The trip was wonderful and I don’t regret one moment of it. I’ll be fine by tomorrow.” She squeezed his hand with a smile. “Besides, I have some good news I’ve been saving for you.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Oh? Do you have another brilliant idea for rebuilding the city? Because the money we took from the traitors won’t last forever.”

  “No.” She pushed herself up to a sitting position to be closer to him, leaning closer and dropping her voice so it wouldn’t carry into the courtyard below. “I think I might be pregnant.”

  His eyes widened. “In truth?” He looked her up and down as if he might see some change in her, then tentatively reached his other hand out to her stomach. “Have you been to see a midwife yet?”

  She covered his other hand with hers, pressing it firmly to her mid-section, although there was nothing to feel yet. His warmth seeped through the layers of clothing and reached her core. “Not yet. I wasn’t sure, so I didn’t want to make a fuss, but I’m two months late now.”

  His brow furrowed. “You should have told me sooner.” He pulled away from her and stood up, beckoning at one of the children below. “I would have made you stay home if I’d known. You shouldn’t be flying, or camping outside, or—or anything strenuous in your condition. I’ll send for the midwife right away to make sure that nothing’s wrong.”

  Aristia came up the stairs two at a time and rushed over to Galenos, spurred on by his look of deep concern. He gave her brief directions to a midwife’s clinic and she went off again at a run, slamming the front door behind her.

  Korinna stared at her husband. This wasn’t the happy reaction she’d been expecting. “I’m fine,” she repeated firmly. She tried to reach for his hand again. “I can still do everything I used to do, I just get a little tired sometimes. I always stop and rest when I get worn out, then I recover normally.”

  Galenos whirled on her, eyes on fire. “I can’t believe you’d be so reckless to just carry on as if nothing was different. This isn’t just your health we’re talking about, it’s our future child’s.” His face softened a little as he looked down at her stomach. “The baby you carry could be the heir we need to continue the Votsis line.”

  “I told you before we married that I wasn’t going to sit around a palace and do nothing but have babies.” She folded her arms and glared back up at him. “In Anoberesovo, I saw pregnant women working in the fields up until the day they gave birth, and their children were no worse for it. Why do I need to be treated differently just because I’m a duchess? The Allfather will surely bless us with many children—I can’t stay confined during all that time.”

  His angry stance melted away. He knelt on the floor before her and reached out a hand to tenderly touch her face. “I know how you value your freedom, and I promised that you would have it.” His dark eyes, almost black, gazed deeply into hers. “But you have to learn to slow down. We’ll find things for you to do, things that are safer for you and the child. But you can’t fly. Women riders don’t let themselves get pregnant these days—in the past, some of them lost their pregnancies when they tried to fly.”

  She swallowed, feeling his words sink in like a bitter pill. The simple act of flying was too dangerous? She couldn’t imagine life without her morning exercise with Sungold. She licked her lips, trying to find a way to voice her concern. “But if I don’t go see her—a marewing wouldn’t forget her rider if she was gone for that long, would she?”

  He shook his head firmly. “Sungold would never forget you,” he said. He took her hands—they were small enough that both of them could disappear in one of his. “And you can still visit her. She’ll still need your care, to brush her coat and check her hooves, all of that. If the walk gets too far for you, I’ll hire a litter to carry you to the paddock.”

  An idea struck her. He’d refused to build another marewing paddock closer to home on the basis of safety, but maybe she could get a concession from him now that he was forcing her to stay grounded. “If only there was somewhere closer I could see Sungold,” she began, looking at him hopefully. “There is a lot of space behind City Hall. If we built a high wall around it to protect the citizens, a marewing could land there easily, even have room to graze if we planted grass.”

  He sighed.
“I’ll have to consult with a few people to see if we could make it safe enough.”

  She perked up for the first time since they’d started this argument. “So you’ll consider it?”

  “If it’s a way to keep you happy, then yes.” He held up one finger. “But I’m not making any guarantees until I know it won’t endanger the city. I’ve told you many times, marewings don’t mix with people who aren’t their riders. If something went wrong, it would be very damaging to our reputations to be seen unleashing a monster on our own people.”

  She nodded solemnly, although she could think of a few exceptions. She’d ridden on two other marewings besides Sungold, and she’d convinced Sungold to carry Galenos once. Maybe they could learn a little more flexibility than most riders gave them credit for.

  She reached over and patted the couch next to her, and at her urging, he got up from the floor, a little slow to get up from his kneeling position, and sat beside her again.

  He groaned and rubbed his knees. “I’m not as young as I used to be.”

  She smiled and poked him in the ribs. He was eleven years older than her, but at thirty-one, he was hardly old. “You’d better find some youth left in you, because you’ll have a son or daughter to chase after soon enough.” She leaned her head against his arm. “You’re happy about the news, right?”

  “Of course I am.” He put his arm around her and kissed the top of her head. “I’m so excited. I can’t wait to see what kind of child you and I have.”

  That was all she needed to hear. She’d do her best to keep this baby safe, whatever the midwife told her to do, because she couldn’t wait to meet their future child, too. Hopefully it was a son, the heir that they needed, so there would be no question of succession for the duke.

  Sympaia II

  After months in Sympaia, Pelagia had her own office in the Merchants Guild where she’d built up a reputation as a consultant. The funds she earned allowed her to purchase a modest house in a respectable neighborhood, and the rest she invested in other merchants’ trade deals. It was nothing compared to what she’d once had in Kyratia, but that had been built up over a lifetime. Now she was just trying to earn enough money in a few years to allow her to retire in comfort. She was getting too old to continue scheming forever.

  But there was one other thing she wanted to do, and that was see Galenos brought low at last. She had only a limited time left in the world but she could wait a little longer for the opportunity to strike him down. She would not fail again.

  She didn’t have any spies or connections left in Kyratia to tell her the news, but Duke Kleon had his own network. One day, he sent her a message summoning her to Chesane Palace. When she arrived in his audience chamber and saw the other exiled councilors were also assembled, along with the Varulan priests, she knew the time had come.

  Kleon didn’t fill up time with his usual pageantry of lavish refreshments and a retinue of hangers-on. The audience chamber was all business, just a long table with many chairs and lamps to light the room. He gestured for them to be seated and folded his hands before him on the table.

  “I have called you all here because you promised me aid if I ever felt it was necessary to attack my neighboring city, Kyratia,” he said without preamble. “I fear that the time has come when I must do something to slow that mercenary killer’s rise to power.”

  Kleon gestured to his clerks, who stepped forward with stacks of paper. They distributed several sheets to each of the exiles seated at the table.

  Pelagia looked down at the paper she held and saw the copy of a spy’s report. She doubted if it contained every piece of information the duke had received, but still, his willingness to share any of it was a nice gesture. She would spend time poring over every word and phrase to glean what she could of the current state of Kyratia. She’d been starving for news of her old home.

  Kleon didn’t wait to let them read it all now. He cleared his throat, calling their attention back to the head of the table. “I’ll just give you the highlights. Galenos has spent his new influx of money, stolen from all of you, to strengthen his fortifications and recruit new soldiers to his mercenary company. He hasn’t made any aggressive movements yet, but it will only be a matter of time.” He paused for dramatic effect, then added, “We’ve also learned that his wife is pregnant. If we wait to act, he could have an heir before the end of the year, which will only make it harder to end his reign of terror.”

  Pelagia let out a gasp of surprise, letting mild shock register on her face, but in truth she wasn’t perturbed. Galenos’s wife was a low-born bastard of the late duke, and the poorer classes never seemed to have trouble multiplying like rabbits. It would have been more surprising if the girl hadn’t gotten pregnant sooner or later. She used to know apothecaries in Kyratia who could brew up potions that would guard against such events, but no way of contacting them now. Perhaps Kleon would have his own solution for dealing with the would-be heir.

  Kleon looked around the room and let his gaze settle finally on Pelagia. “You claimed to have knowledge and powers that I could use against this threat. Do you have any that could be used in a subtle way that wouldn’t directly implicate Sympaia? I want to avoid overt acts of war if I can help it.”

  Pelagia smiled and nodded down at the priests, seated below her at the table. “Let’s start with their suggestions. What did you learn about Kyratia during the last battle?”

  Xeros, the speaker for the priests, got to his feet. “With further consideration, we’ve concluded that our wyld magic got out of control because of the unique properties of that city. It’s built on magestone, which is supposed to repel wyld magic and prevent it from entering the city. However, we observed that when we circumvented that protection and let it in, the wyld magic was actually amplified by the magestone.” He rubbed his hands together. “And we’ve come up with a way that we can use that against the usurper.”

  Varranor II

  Varranor tapped Skyfire on the shoulder and sent her on a final circle of Fort Ropytos. As the commander, he didn’t need to fly patrols, but he did like to get up in the sky and take a look around from time to time. And what he saw wasn’t good.

  The fort itself was in top condition. The summer recruits had long since graduated and gone off to their assigned posts. Twenty-three marewing and rider pairs were training in a remote field away from the rest of the forces, and according to Navera’s reports, both the new riders and her assistant Itychia were coming along well. The sergeant thought that in a few months, she’d be able to retire from her training position and take up her new role as his second-in-command permanently. Everything in the Storm Petrels was running smoothly.

  But outside the fort, the surrounding land was bleak. Three months into winter and the usual storms had failed to appear. A few small showers had passed through, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make up for the dry summer: there was little green in the forests and none on the hills, which were still covered in brown, dead grass.

  The farmers had planted their grain but no rain had come to make it grow, and now they labored to irrigate their fields with water from the rivers and reservoirs. Varranor didn’t know the details of how effective they could be with hand watering or if things could still turn around if rains showed up late, but he saw the early effects in the food purchased by the fort. Prices were rising on any fresh vegetables, although the produce itself seemed withered and stunted compared to past years. It was early to write off the whole season, but he already heard the word whispered among the troops: drought.

  Skyfire completed the circle and angled her wings down to her paddock. It was getting close to her supper time and she was eager for her oats. He let her land, then took his time brushing her down, sending her chestnut hair flying in a cloud around them. The unseasonably warm weather meant she wasn’t growing her thicker winter coat yet.

  At least there were plenty of oats left from last year’s generous harvest. Varranor served her share and patted her on the should
er a final time, then went off to hang up her tack.

  Navera found him before he could make it all the way back inside. “The daily reports are in,” she said with a scowl, holding up a thick stack of papers.

  He sighed and gestured at his dusty flight leathers. “I’ve just come back from a flight and I want to go wash up. Can you just give me the summary?”

  She nodded curtly and flipped to the last page. “Two more monster attacks in this region alone.” She shook her head. “The mage thinks they’ve been driven into our lands on a search for food. With the lack of rain, farms are almost the only place where anything is growing.”

  It wasn’t good news, but what could he do about it? “Let’s see if we can widen our patrols to cover more of the settled areas,” he said with a half-hearted shrug. “We can’t stop the monsters from seeking out human farms, but maybe we can catch more of them before they can do any real damage.” He made it to the door and paused, one hand on the knob. “Is there anything else that needs my attention right away?”

  Navera rifled through the rest of the report, then shook her head. “No, we can go over it in our morning meeting.” She flicked her fingers out in a salute at him. “Have a good evening, sir.”

  Varranor thanked her and went inside, heading straight for the baths. After he was cleaned up, he was going to need a drink to unwind, and he didn’t feel like drinking alone. Thankfully he knew just the place to go.

  ***

  In most parts of the military complex, officers and regular soldiers were kept separate. The officers’ dining room was nicer than the general mess hall, the smaller officers’ bathing room had luxuries that the other soldiers couldn’t have. They had their own living quarters, better than the barracks. There were offices full of desks for anyone with rank and even a skilled tailor who sewed the officers’ uniforms to fit.

  But marewing riders liked to socialize with their own fellows and didn’t care which bars were on whose jacket. They had their own space near the marewings’ paddocks for the riders’ lounge. When Galenos was commander, he had only put in the occasional appearance there to keep up the goodwill of his fellow riders, but he wasn’t much for crowds. Varranor, on the other hand, loved the casual atmosphere and he was a frequent patron.