by Kris Schnee
Dominic's cheeks flushed and his brow furrowed. "That's not true! Maybe the rulers are hypocrites, but..."
"But what?"
"We don't have to be. Right now, Servant Irene is our enemy. If she's willing to join us, she's welcome as our ally and friend. If not, then we need to treat her as a foe until she changes her mind, or this war ends and we can release her safely. What makes us different from Baccata is, everyone is a prisoner there. Even if you're on the Holy State's good side, you're still little more than property."
Jakob looked off into the distance. "I wonder what the One would tell us if we could go back and ask for a good argument in His favor."
"He'd say that all the oppression is worth it. But I've decided otherwise. There comes a point when you can only say goodbye, and use force if there's any objection."
The wolf faced back east with a contemplative pose. Jakob mirrored it. "If we can talk Irene into converting to gain her freedom, would you let her just walk away from us forever? Maybe right back into Baccata's arms, if they'll have her?"
Dominic looked up at the bright sky, thinking of the prayer for justice. The cost of the King's platitudes could be high. "Yes, because she's my friend. I wouldn't be, if I gave her no choice at all."
* * *
The Dukes moved to the east with their troops. There was a parade on their way out, where women cheered and blew kisses and tied ribbons onto the horses' reins. Half the point of the celebration seemed to be that the soldiers were finally clearing out of the civilians' way. The troop movement left Dominic with his personal army of hundreds, men who were still bewildered but willing to say the right words about honoring the King and obeying a former Servant. A small force of ducal troops remained on guard, but he now had the closest thing to a formal army within sight. He didn't even consider taking advantage of that. Besides the quiet and shabby man who'd been following him around but showing more stealth and agility than any random beggar could have, the city's entire population was enough to deter any thoughts of a second betrayal.
Meanwhile, a sea campaign began along the coast, with the Dolphin heading south. Jakob said one of Sir Marion's best students was among the crew: a man named Faas with a dolphin familiar. "Isn't that pretty limiting?" asked Dominic.
Jakob grinned. "Not if your heart's already in the sea. Where's ours?"
The Dukes went forth to take the border forts and prepare the way for an assault on Seaflower. A few days of training later, Dominic and his men followed. Let each hour be spent well, as he'd been told.
Jakob said, "I'm thinking of taking Cecil up on his offer of a knighthood, even if you don't." He rode alongside Dominic, Rose and Perrin. Unlike a Baccatan formation, many of the soldiers were behind them.
"It could be a good life," Dominic said. "I might too, when this war is over."
"When's that?"
Perrin said, "At the end of Baccata!"
Dominic tried to ignore him, but the former slave went on about how he'd cut down everyone in his way. The last straw came when Dominic finally noticed the five notches in Perrin's crossbow. "Are you here for revenge? You should have gone with the ship to chase your pirates. Or do you just enjoy blood?"
"House of cards, Dom. The only things holding it up are the mages and the power arrangement. So what if I'm enthusiastic about being the breeze that blows it over?"
Rose chittered for attention. "Beg your pardon. I had a word with the converts, and from that talk and these ex-Servants, it sounds like B-land is glued together with loyalty. Just to a bad cause, and that's what makes it weak. But not about to shatter on its own."
It felt to Dominic like his allies were chatting about exactly why a friend of his was dying.
* * *
Because his convert force had been left behind as a sort of reserve (a decision whose reasons he was still unsure of), he had a little free time. He went with Jakob to the dungeon to visit Irene and the few other holdouts. But she refused even to speak to them, from behind her mask. They walked away and went to get a drink.
The teenaged son of Duke Cecil sat on the ducal throne, and Sir Marion was making the real decisions. Dominic visited the throne room to consult with both. "I want to visit Torrin," he said.
"Torrin!" said Marion. "Is conquering one city not enough for you?"
"I know people there who are sympathetic to the north border tribes. If we're really serious about taking on Baccata, it might be worth seeing if we can get their support."
The Duke's son looked intrigued. "They're roughly northeast of here, right?"
Marion nodded. "But that means skirting the edge of tribal territory and then walking into a hostile town. That's not a sane option, with or without your mask."
Dominic would probably get killed trying to turn Torrin against the State. He said, "What support can we offer them, if they join in to help us?"
The Duke's son Earl (Dominic wasn't sure if it was a title) said, "We would be eager to have peaceful contact with them, and would share in military defense."
"That's something. If we can take Seaflower, then Torrin will be nearly cut off from the rest of Baccata. Still, I'd like some assurance that they won't move to help the State while we're doing that."
Earl laughed. "You really are ambitious, turncoat."
Marion said, "I may have a way to put you into contact."
"One of Rose's message seeds?" asked Dominic. He still hadn't seen the grove where those trees grew; it was safely west of the disputed border.
"A little more direct. It's a gamble, but my contact will probably take it as a challenge."
"Who?" asked Dominic and Earl.
"An old friend's son. Think about exactly what you want to say."
* * *
As it happened, a woman came to the city first. Dominic was in his little room in the palace, reading all that he could about military magic, when a pair of guards arrived leading a stringy, feral-looking woman with haunted eyes.
A guard said, "She's been asking about news of our city, and Sir Marion sent her to you."
Dominic stood and offered a polite bow, unsure what was proper in this society. "Where are you from, miss?"
She answered in fluent Baccatan. "Servant, I'm from Torrin. I'm a runaway who would be killed by my Citizen, if he could find me. I came because I heard of trouble at the border forts, and then heard rumors of the city falling, then of stranger things still."
Dominic's eyes widened. He felt a flash of anger at this criminal who'd defied the natural order of things... of the State, anyway. He tried to laugh off the sense that she should go home to her master. "Forgive me; it hasn't been long since I left the State. If you're welcome in the city, then are you some kind of spy?"
She smiled. "I'm nobody. Call me Mouse if you like. I've been visiting the fringes of the three nations for years now: Baccata, Mithrol, and the tribes. Now that I've heard from Sir Marion what just happened here, I want to invite you to a little meeting between here and Torrin."
Dominic said, "I had been thinking about riding back into Baccatan territory, but I'd dismissed that as suicide. A meeting with who?"
Mouse said, "Interested parties from Torrin. One of them sent me this as proof." She offered him a scroll.
Dominic looked at it. It said, "The fluffy prisoner Pine sends his regards, and the Citizen would happily lend you his coat again."
Dominic said, "This seems to be from some people I trusted well enough. You have my attention; what do they hope to get from me?"
The guard was looking uneasy about this conversation taking place in Baccatan. Dominic explained to him, "She wants some kind of secret meeting."
The spy shrugged. "All I heard was that they wanted to teach you something, and that they named a certain date and place."
Dominic blinked at that. "That's nice, but I haven't got a way to reach any part of Torrin's region unless it's with an army. Which I can arrange, but we're a little busy right now."
Mouse said, "That, I can't help
you with. Can you travel stealthily? It's several days' ride east of here."
Dominic said, "I'll have to talk with the leaders here. Excuse me."
"Fine. Can you also talk them into getting me a nice bed and a hot meal? It's been a while." She was obviously telling the truth.
He nodded, smiling, and went to find Marion with the wolves. He explained Mouse's needs, then the travel problem. "I'm interested in seeing whether there's an offer, but I'm not eager to risk getting captured."
Marion said, "I've already contacted the right person for that. Wait a few days."
* * *
Dominic inspected the city defenses, practiced his Mithraic, and otherwise tried to make himself useful and be seen doing it. In the east, said messengers, the Mithraic army was crushing the remaining border forts and seizing lesser towns. They were giving the Baccatan army no time to regroup at Torrin or Seaflower for a counterstrike. Earl in the throne room kept track of it all with a strategy map, but when he expressed a little too much enthusiasm Marion put in a remark or two about killing that seemed to give Earl pause.
A guard spoke to Marion one morning, and Marion stiffened. "My contact is here in the courtyard. You should go see for yourself, Dominic."
Warily, Dominic walked out of the palace to a sunny little plaza. A beast with piercing blue eyes was waiting. The monster stood as high as a man's shoulders, with a hawk's sharp beak leading the way for red-brown feathers and golden fur. Its wings were folded and its feathery tail lay still. Its taloned forefeet scratched the brick floor and struck sparks.
"We Won't Hurt You," it said in a voice like a squawking horn. "Let Us Fly." Too quick to avoid, the griffin surged forward, snared Dominic, and beat its wings to lift into the sky.
Dominic screamed as his stomach fell away somewhere far below. The griffin had snared him and was already over the city wall, out to a field where farmers paused in their work to watch. He felt around for his pouch of darts but it was pinned tight. Several seconds passed, and he could begin to think sanely. "What are you doing? Put me down!"
"Wait."
A minute later the beast stalled its wings and slowed, putting them down on a rocky hilltop. Dominic dropped to his hands and knees, shaking.
Then, the griffin split. Its body flared with light and breeze. Dominic looked away, then saw the creature standing next to a man in a simple red tunic. A long, feather-tipped tail flicked behind him, and his ears were tufted, pointed things like those of the monster beside him. The man spoke more quietly, through a human throat. "Our name is Fleche. We wanted to see the mysterious convert trying to pull one over on the League."
Now that he had solid ground under him, Dominic stood. He felt anger all through his aching chest. "This is your way of introducing yourself?" The man stood with folded arms, impassively leaning against his griffin. The creature's eyes had turned to piercing yellow, inhuman ones. Dominic was full of questions. "What are you, anyway? I hadn't heard of the western knights being shapeshifters."
"We prefer not to reveal everything in the usual context where we meet Baccatans. Our order has come to help with the war effort, but something strange is obviously happening besides the stalemate breaking. We want to know why a foreigner is fomenting rebellion."
"I've had my loyalty questioned enough already, not least by myself. If you've been in contact with Sir Marion, you already know what I'll tell you: I wanted to prevent my people from getting slaughtered in an ill-fated attack, even at the cost of my mask. In the process I had a change of heart and decided to help end the rule of the Boundless One."
"And replace it with whose?"
"A new government that doesn't divide people into classes, or push them to hate and kill one another."
"We don't much care for your 'Holy State' either, yet you spent your whole life accepting its ways until now. Marion and the Dukes seem to think you're useful as a weapon, but what makes you a trustworthy ally? Are you after a dukedom of your own?"
Dominic had so far brushed off the offers of a landed title, preferring to focus on the war effort. "I haven't given my reward much thought. I wouldn't mind one, when all this is over, but I've made no demands or deals."
The griffin snorted. Fleche, its... Rider? Partner? said, "We'd know what we're dealing with, if you just said you wanted a chunk of land to rule. Here, if you look to the east you'll see land we may conquer soon. The Dukes could probably give you that." In the eastern distance was effectively neutral land held by the Baccatan forts, with no farms or villages to make it worthwhile for anyone. Old ruins dotted the land out there.
Dominic said, "I want there to be towns on that land again, and no more fighting. I want to visit more of your country, and the tribes' forests, and the Velesians' tree cities. I want my ex-Servant friend to have his island set free from starvation and punishment. I want everyone to have access to books and pamphlets, printed by magic or machine, and for everyone to be free to wander like I did. Beyond that, I don't much care how rich I am."
Rider and mount looked him over. The human said, "A little of your story sounds like why we became a knight. Not for fighting's sake."
Dominic told the man about the offer of a secret meeting. "Carry me there," he reluctantly said.
The griffin and its man bristled, tails lashing. The man said, "You don't know this, so you're forgiven. But it's a quirk of the griffin knights that we do not like taking direct orders. Or giving them. We and our human colleagues cajole, inquire, even threaten -- but we try never to command."
Touchy, thought Dominic. He rephrased: "Will you please take me to this meeting, and make sure I come back alive?"
The griffin tapped its beak with its claws, looking thoughtful. The man said, "We're not a ferry service, but if you can handle being carried, we can take you there in a day or less. At least half of us would enjoy smashing a few Baccatans if they try to ambush you."
Man and beast touched each other. In a flash of sunlight they were one again, with subtle differences in build and more human eyes. They said, "We Will Carry You Back To The City, And Await Your Preparations."
* * *
During a long and harrowing flight low along fields and hills, Fleche had to land repeatedly. For this trip he carried a pair of saddlebags containing meat and water and little else. They veered away from the battlefront, giving Dominic a glimpse of armies on the march: Baccata's forts and a small army from Torrin against the Mithraic invasion force.
During one of their halts, the griffin split again. The beast flew off and the man rested flat on his back. Dominic stared into the Weave and saw a faint line of connection between the two, pointing the way to Fleche's distant partner. He tried to choose his words carefully. "What exactly are you? Half familiar?"
Fleche said, "We were a boy born the usual way, and a magical beast from a race originally spawned in the chaos of the Madlands. Griffins bond with chosen humans they know and trust; it's an instinct related to how they are a fusion of creatures already."
"I see a bond between you."
"Of course. It's a lifelong connection."
"Does anything break it?"
Fleche sat up, looking angry for a moment. "Never!" He calmed and said, "We are a knight. We have no master but the King, so there is no disharmony between us."
Dominic wondered how much the man's thoughts were shaped by the beast's simpler ones. Did dogs ever question their masters? He said, "I would think your Dukes aren't thrilled by your independence."
Fleche flopped back down, looking uncoordinated and nearly boneless. "Definitely. The Order of the Winged Soul stands apart."
"Are you a class of enforcers, then, like our Servants?"
"That's... hard to define, and a point of some dispute. As we said, we have trouble working within rules and commands, unlike you masked ones. We may be mistaken, but our impression is that Servants are pitiless bringers of a 'justice' that only serves to oppress people. To us, that's monstrous even though you look like men."
Do
minic tried not to take offense. "We tend to speak in terms of 'if you please' rather than commands, for different reasons. If you're above the law, literally, what protects the people of Mithrol against you seizing power?"
"Besides some legal restrictions, for situations where it's worth angering a griffin? Our trust in the King helps restrain us. Our system can only work for a moral and religious people. It's unsuited for any other. The same may be true for the League of Mithrol itself."
Dominic considered Fleche's words, but lost his train of thought when the man sat up licking his lips. Fleche said, "We've spotted a deer for lunch. No more talk; we need to concentrate."
* * *
After a meal and an exhausting ride, Dominic landed at sunset at the edge of a grove of trees. Fleche remained in his merged form, warily testing his wingspan against the widely-spaced trunks. Dominic shivered in the chilly night; he'd dressed lightly. He readied his darts in one hand, and looked into the Weave to help him see.
"Psst," whispered someone overhead. Dominic and the griffin looked up and spotted Pine the squirrel-man hanging from a branch. "Is that thing gonna eat me?"
The griffin said, "Too Fuzzy."
Pine dropped down a series of branches as though on a staircase and scurried to the ground, keeping his distance from Fleche. "I'm told to lead you to them."
Dominic said, "Men from Torrin? And be aware, my large friend here wants to make sure this isn't a trap."
"Nice kitty," Pine said, and edged farther away. "Come along -- I mean, you should come along."
They did. Dominic found a small camp set up in the woods in the Waldic tribes' style, with a simple tall tent of hide and a hanging amber lantern. Chilly wind blew through the meeting site.
Dominic nodded politely to Fleche and headed for the tent, calling out quietly. The flap opened and the Citizen from Torrin's trading post greeted him, revealing two other figures in the tent: the Bound man who'd been with him to watch Dominic's little magic demonstration, and a Waldic holy man of some kind.