Though she doubted he’d be hungry after eating a ram the size of the one he was tearing into. The greatest danger was if he considered her an intruder in his territory that needed killing.
Amata glanced up at the dead tree. While it would make a poor shelter, she could gather some fallen wood and start a fire. Most creatures feared flame. Perhaps if she built a fire in front of her makeshift boulder shelter, it would keep him away.
If nothing else, at least building a fire would give her something to do while she waited for the gryphon to either eat his fill and leave, or come kill her.
While she built a fire, the sun vanished behind the mountains and the temperature plummeted. At least the fire warded off some of the evening chill. It also helped boost her confidence. She kept telling herself all animals feared fire.
Even gryphons must fear it.
Amata added another branch and the flames grew even taller.
The darkness beyond the fire’s ring of light prevented her from seeing the gryphon, but she could hear him. By the sounds, he’d already eaten the choicest bits and was now cracking open the bones to get at the marrow inside. The loud cracking noises had her jerking in reaction more than once.
Was he going to sit out there and block the path down all night?
A niggle of dread slid down her spine. He couldn’t still be hungry after that sheep, but what if he was keeping her and her ewe stranded up here for tomorrow’s meal? Did gryphons possess enough cunning to plan for the future?
Perhaps her imagination was getting away from her? Surely, she was crediting the creature with more intelligence than he possessed.
As the long night stretched before her, Amata huddled closer to the fire, trying to keep warm. Eventually she tired of squatting in readiness and settled on the ground with her back against one of the boulders.
Her stomach growled, and she rested a hand against her abdomen as if that might muffle the noise. She glanced uneasily into the darkness but heard no betraying sounds of the gryphon moving closer.
Slowly exhaling a deep breath, she settled in for a long, uncomfortable night and prayed to Ishtar that she’d survive until morning and the beast would be gone by the time dawn turned the sky pink. She didn’t know how long she sat and stared out into the darkness, one hand resting on her sword’s hilt, but eventually her eyelids drooped and keeping them open grew more difficult.
Chapter 3
Amata woke to her face pressed against the cold, rocky ground and the strange sensation of something too large to be a cat’s paw kneading her ass. She inhaled sharply, and the pawing stopped.
She waited, unmoving, breath frozen in her lungs. Whatever was looming over her was no sheep. The paw came again, resting heavily on her cowhide covered rump before giving her a little shove. When that still didn’t get a response from her, the paw returned to kneading and then there was another pause followed by several rhythmic shoves. Her entire body rocked back and forth.
‘I’m dead.’ She thought to herself. ‘I’m already dead, so you need not kill me.’
Panic set in when she realized her sword was trapped under her body and there was no way she could draw it from this position. Where was her bow? She could use the stout wood like a staff. Maybe drive him off long enough to draw her blade?
Carefully glancing around, she spotted it leaning against the boulder where she’d set it while she’d built the fire. It was just out of reach.
The gryphon lost patience, and with a deep huffing sound, he curled his paw around her hip and flipped her onto her back. Knowing her sword would be useless this close, she drew her dagger in one swift move. If the beast wanted to eat her, she’d make the bastard work for his next meal.
But as she looked up at him standing over her, she spotted that he was holding something in his beak.
Lowering his head, he eyed her blade and laughed around the bundle in his beak.
At least she thought the muffled shriek was his version of laughter.
The item he’d held landed in her lap. Instinctively, she glanced down even though she knew she shouldn’t take her eyes off him. But something heavy and damp now sat in her lap.
Her eyes widened. It was a lump of meat wrapped in a section of sheep’s hide.
The big gryphon sat on his haunches and watched her. Nervously, she studied his gift. Was he sharing his meal with her?
Yes. Yes, he was. As impossible as that seemed. He’d even wrapped it to prevent it from getting covered in dirt.
Great Goddess Ishtar, how intelligent were gryphons?
Not just dumb beasts.
“Is this for me?” She slowly picked up the skin-wrapped meat. “Thank you.”
At that moment, it wouldn’t have shocked her to hear him speak. Though he didn’t.
Instead, he lowered his front end down until he was laying next to her, his fur touching her in places. She could even feel the heat radiating off him. She lay there, frozen, unmoving, but he only flicked his lion’s tail back and forth lazily as his tufted ears swung forward inquiringly.
When she said nothing else, he craned his large eagle’s head to groom his wing feathers. He didn’t so much as glower at her.
Amata slowly raised her upper body off the ground. The gryphon only looked at her and then returned to grooming himself.
Carefully controlling her breathing, she rolled to her knees and waited. The gryphon was close enough she could reach out and stroke her fingers through his fur if she wanted. He still didn’t react to her presence.
Slowly releasing a breath, she stood on shaking legs and then moved slowly until she was on the opposite side of the fire. Then she glanced down in bemusement at the wrapped meat in her hands.
Had the beast always planned to bring her dinner? Not turn her into dinner? Amata swallowed and glanced back at the huge fellow.
Of all the possible outcomes she could have imagined, this wasn’t one of them.
After staring at the creature for long moments, she turned her attention to her gift. It wasn’t just one big lump of meat like she’d first thought, but choice cuts. She glanced back toward her small fire, where it had burned down to coals, perfect for cooking.
She came to one conclusion: he was no stranger to a cooking fire. He’d likely been hand raised and trained to hunt for a master or mistress. The only human Amata knew to venture into the mountains was High Priestess Ereshti. It was said as a priestess of Ishtar, she was protected from the deity’s gryphon creations.
But what if it was more? Had Priestess Ereshti raised a litter of gryphons and they now served and protected her? This fellow had hunted and provided a meal for Amata. Could they be trained for other tasks?
“You’re a friendly one, aren’t you?”
At the tone of her voice, he glanced up from his grooming. A moment of panic swamped Amata as he heaved himself up and prowled closer to her. He covered the ground in two strides. When all he did was shove his head under her hand, Amata breathed out a shaky, nervous laugh.
“You want head scratches?” she asked softly as she cautiously worked her fingers into the silky feathers around his tufted ears.
He bumped his head against her side as an ultra-low purr escaped him. It was so deep and powerful it created a strumming sensation along her breastbone.
“Like that do you?” She scratched with more confidence along the back of his head and part way down his neck. He was huge. Her head only came up to his shoulder.
The surreal nature of this moment wasn’t lost on her. His kind could kill hers with a slap of one paw. Yet here she stood, rubbing his head like he was an overly friendly barn cat.
Eventually, he got his fill of scratches and settled on the ground next to the fire.
Her stomach growled again, catching the beast’s attention. He looked from her, to the meat, and then back to the fire.
“Trying to tell me something, aren’t you?” She looked toward his gift. “Yes, maybe I will.”
Moving slowly to avoid trigger
ing any hunting instincts in him, she threaded the meat onto slender twigs and shoved their ends into the dirt, adjusting them until none of the meat was too close to the embers.
Then she settled to wait and allowed her gaze to travel back to him, studying his form. Never had she seen one of his kind so close. While gryphons were said to be a blending between lions and eagles and they shared similarities, they were also entirely their own species. They didn’t look stitched together or unnatural.
There was a majesty to them. A fierce beauty.
Even though this male was the size of a small horse and muscled like an ox, he moved with predatory grace. His bird’s head and wings merged flawlessly with his lion’s body; the glossy black feathers and fur the same shade. She even found his long, tufted cat-like ears graceful as they swiveled to track sounds.
“You’re the most beautiful creature I’ve ever seen in my life.”
His chest puffed up and he preened at her compliment.
Did he actually understand her words? Or maybe her intentions?
The time while she waited for the meat to cook was the strangest of her life. She didn’t take her eyes off the gryphon as she continued her one-sided conversation with the beast.
Eventually, her meal was cooked, and she nibbled at the hot meat. Something occurred to her, and she took up a second skewer and blew on it to cool and then offered it to him.
“Do you like it cooked as a treat?”
In answer, he snatched the stick with his beak and set to work pulling the tidbits of meat from it.
“Ah. So that’s why you brought me the food. You wanted someone to cook some of it for you.” She grinned at him as she handed him another twig and they ate in silence.
Eventually, he grew tired of the cooked tidbits, or her company, because he heaved himself up and paced away from her fire, vanishing back into the surrounding darkness. A short time later, the sound of his mighty wings beating filled the night. Looking up, she spotted his black silhouette against the midnight blue sky as he winged his way deeper into the mountain range.
After another long while, Amata whistled for her stray sheep. Eventually, the ewe answered the summons, stopping just at the edge of the ring of light. Beside her was a robust and healthy lamb.
Amata looked at the sheep. “We should go before a less friendly gryphon comes along.”
The sheep bleated in answer.
After kicking dirt into her cooking fire, Amata called to the ewe and then waited a moment more for the newborn lamb to follow. Once she was confident the little one could keep up, Amata started down the mountain slope.
Once she collected the rest of her flock and returned home, she’d have quite the story to tell.
Then she realized no one would believe her.
“Well, guess this is a secret between just the three of us,” she said to her two charges.
Chapter 4
The village was abuzz with rumors about a company of guards who had arrived in the night. Now everyone was flooding out of their homes and making their way to the marketplace where the guardsmens’ leader was waiting to deliver a message from the King of Lagash.
Amata couldn’t have cared less about the King of neighboring Lagash.
But, unfortunately, Amata needed to bring her goat cheese to the market this morning. She’d already been jostled at least three times since entering the village. She hissed, growled, and elbowed the offenders in return.
At least the bumps and jostles weren’t intentional. No one was that foolish. Amata had been known to render more than one drunken sod infertile with a powerful kick after he’d attempted to grab a breast or sneak a hand up under the hem of her robe.
She’d been looking after herself for close to three years now and had gotten good at it. Her reputation had become a shield, and she rarely needed to discipline fools in recent seasons. Though, perhaps the reason most people gave her a wide berth had something to do with the three men she’d killed after they’d come to collect payback for her soundly rebuking their drunken advances.
While they’d sought her out with thoughts of revenge, beatings, and rape on their minds, she’d given each of them something else to think about as they’d gasped their last breath with her deadly sharp dagger buried in their hearts.
Afterward, she’d been lucky. While she was explaining what had happened to the town elders, the priestess who lived high up in the mountains made the journey down to the village to declare Amata’s actions justified.
How the priestess knew remained a mystery to this day. Why she cared was an even greater one. It wasn’t like Amata was nobleborn, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, or some other important personage that the gods might take an interest in.
A simple shepherdess was hardly important enough to catch the attention of the gods.
But somehow the priestess had known of Amata’s plight and had come to defend her actions. She’d even gifted Amata with a kingly gift. The sword was likely worth more than all her sheep and goats together.
Just then the crowd parted enough Amata spotted the cause of this present commotion in the marketplace.
A tall, bald-headed man with a short beard and the densely muscled upper body of a warrior was standing just beyond where the richest merchants had set up their stalls.
If Amata hadn’t already heard the rumors why he was here, she probably wouldn’t have paid him much attention. From his garb—that of a soldier from Lagash—she would have guessed he was here to recruit soldiers for the priest-king’s army. While it was unusual for the king’s men to venture this far east into the mountains, it wasn’t unheard of either.
But that didn’t explain why he was still deep in conversation with the village elders, but they were apparently discussing something with the man.
After a short time, they drew back to stand in a line behind the newcomer. Clearing his throat, he addressed the crowded marketplace.
“I am Nasar. Word has reached King Ur Nanshe of Lagash that raiders have been preying upon merchants traveling through this region, and we believe they are hiding in the mountains. The king has sent us to investigate.” The man glanced from person to person. “If any of you know the whereabouts of the raiders, come forward now.”
Silence greeted his statement and Amata knew precisely why.
The raiders numbered in the hundreds. Roaming and hiding in the steppes and foothills, they lived a nomadic life, moving from one cave encampment to the next as they traveled.
No doubt, if the shepherds told the king’s soldiers where to find the raiders’ encampments, Nasar and his men would find and kill some of the thieves, but Amata knew the soldiers wouldn’t be able to find more than a few of the overall number of raiders.
Once the king’s men left, the surviving raiders would return, seeking vengeance against the local villages for selling them out to the soldiers.
Everyone in the marketplace had likely come to the same conclusion. Hence the silence.
Nasar grunted. “Your elders already told me the raiders are nomadic and don’t stay in one place for long, that they’ve likely already moved on. However, I can’t return without something to show my king and word has reached Lagash about some strange beast that is part lion and part eagle. It is said they hunt in these mountains. If anyone knows the whereabouts of their territory and will act as a guide, you will be greatly rewarded.”
Amata clenched her jaw. As if it wasn’t bad enough to annoy the raiders, this man also wished to antagonize the gryphons?
“Why would either you or your king want one of the beasts? They are dangerous and bloodthirsty,” Amata shouted from her position near the back of the crowd. In truth, she wasn’t at all sure how accurate that last part was but didn’t show her doubt to this man.
“The king keeps a menagerie,” Nasar drawled. “A cub from one of these winged lions would be greatly appreciated and draw his favor. And who knows, perhaps once we know more about them, we can harness them for a useful purpose.”
For now, the beasts rarely ventured down into the steppes or foothills, but if the soldiers captured or killed one of the creatures? Or stole cubs?
Goddess be merciful. The priestess had warned the villagers many times that if the gryphons were left in peace, they’d leave the humans unmolested unlike in the time of Amata’s great, great, great grandfather. Losing an occasional sheep was far better than returning to that time when the gryphons hunted humans along with the sheep.
Nasar’s arrogance would get her village massacred one way or another.
But I’m just a shepherdess, what do I know? Amata thought to herself as she glanced down at her basket of cheese.
Her earlier statement had loosed a torrent of comments, and soon other villagers were questioning the man, drawing his attention away from her.
She left them to the king’s man and made her way deeper into the market. After swiftly bringing her basket of cheese to the usual merchant, she turned and wove her way out of the crowded marketplace.
While she could do nothing to stop the king’s men and the gryphons from killing each other, she could save one male. A domesticated gryphon was far too valuable to allow him to get killed in a raid by king’s soldiers.
The more she thought about it, the more confident she was that the gryphon she’d met last night was one the priestess had hand raised. Amata owed it to the other woman to warn her about the danger to her gryphons.
But Nasar’s statements had spawned another idea deep within Amata’s mind. If the king’s soldiers infiltrated the gryphons’ nesting territory, there would be fighting. If orphaned cubs were left behind in the aftermath, perhaps the priestess would need Amata’s aid to raise them, and the other woman might share her secrets.
Already Amata was forming a plan. It might be lofty, but she could dream about a small army of trained gryphons patrolling the steppes and foothills, protecting the herds and hunting for signs of raiders. If she managed such a thing, then her village would never need to fear murderous thieves again, and she might finally have her revenge.
First Queen of the Gryphons (Ishtar's Legacy Book 5) Page 2