Nai’s face was thoughtful. “Glenn did know the mercenaries were coming though. He sent Martin after them right after his cows were killed, isn’t that right?”
The sides of my lips turned down as I thought. “No, you’re right. That’s Glenn for you. Even when he panics rightly he does it wrong. Though, can you imagine leaving those bodies out as long as it took Aedith’s group to get here? Gross.”
We had reached the gate, and Willy smiled out his booth at us. “Ladies. Miss Taryn you’ve had a bit of a late start, haven’t you?”
“Yes, we were listening in on the hunting party. Nai will have to tell you all about it though. I have to leave in a rush.”
“If she wouldn’t mind?”
“No, not at all. I imagine they’ll tell you a great deal more when you meet up with them, but it can’t hurt to know the general idea, now can it?” Nai sidled up to the booth, eager to share her news with the guard.
“No, it cannot Miss Naieed. Ride safely Miss Taryn!”
Normally if I was late I would ride Hale at a gallop and get to my destination with time to spare. Today however, Michael’s warning kept sounding in my head. The woods looked dark, and with the gray skies casting no extra light into their depths, I couldn’t bring myself to put Hale to more than a trot.
Up in the boughs of the trees at the edge of town were two separate flocks of lesser gryphons: sparrow types and grackle types. They had camped out on either side of the road where standing puddles of water provided good bathing pools. I patted Hale’s neck and murmured praise as she walked rigidly but stolidly towards them. They seemed to be at leisure. A few were playing on the ground by the path, pouncing and shrieking at one another. As we neared, one rolled onto its back. Acting as though a hated enemy had dropped from above, it batted at a falling leaf with quick paws. I giggled and felt the uneasiness in me lift.
We were almost past the flock when a lesser gryphon with the head of a sparrow and a body all in brown galloped towards Hale’s hooves, intent on a gryphon on the opposite side of us. As I yelled a curse at it, the grackle gryphon it had been in pursuit of flared its wings and clawed at the air. Whipping around, the first gryphon darted back the way it had come, making a trilling noise. Clearly the little monster was tickled with itself.
Unfortunately, it had not reversed its course soon enough. Panic stricken, Hale let out a squeal. At the noise, every one of the gryphons scattered into the bushes, many contrarily crossing the road to do so. Hale veered from side to side, her eyes rolling backward as she tried to avoid the beasts. I pulled hard at the reins, trying to regain control. By the time I had her calm again, there were no gryphons in view to shout at. I let out a shaky breath.
“I’m so sorry Hale,” I murmured, truly feeling it, as I stroked her sweat-soaked neck. “I wonder if Father knows of any way to help you with this,” I mused aloud.
Hale let out a deep whicker. Her sides were heaving with labored breath, and I felt pricks of real concern. If her fear got much worse, she would become dangerous to ride in the winter and fall—not that I blamed her. Still, I could have fallen. In the winter, I probably would have fallen
I had to stop in at the house to grab my supplies, so by the time we arrived at the field I was more than a few minutes late. Michael was up and waiting for me. Cherub was already loaded, and he was standing with her, his eyes intent on where I’d come in from. He mounted as soon as he saw me.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, riding up to meet him. “I lost track of time. I was listening to the mercenaries and the hunters talk in town.”
“It’s fine. I was honestly just worried.” Michael reached across the gap between us to grip my hand. “Maybe we need to train the dogs to carry notes so we can let each other know we haven’t been eaten.”
I laughed, surprised, but pleased to find he wasn’t mad at me. “Well, here I am, definitely not eaten, only tardy and sorry. Can I trust you’ll get home without being eaten as well?”
“As soon as I pick up Mother,” he agreed.
“Oh, no you don’t have to do that.” I remembered. “Father says he’ll take Mother home when he’s done at the meeting, and then we’re all going back into town tonight for supper.”
Looking up through his bangs he made lips like a duck, and nodded appreciatively. “That frees up the whole afternoon for me.”
“You can work on Mother’s gift.”
His expression was blank for a moment, and I prompted him with an incredulous stare. He shook his head, as if to clear it. “Her birthday! Yes, it’s coming up fast.”
“What is it that you’re making for her?” I asked.
“It’s a surprise.” He tried to wink, but it looked awkward. “All right, you’ve kept me in the field long enough. I’m going home, sister. Be safe.”
“You as well!”
When he had been gone not ten minutes the rain started again. This wasn’t pleasant by any means, but the day father checked for markings around the field he had also brought the supplies to make a collapsible shelter in anticipation of the autumn rains. Michael had set it up while Father worked. The shelter consisted of two large pieces of canvas, sewn together and oiled, then stretched tightly over four poles. Beneath this was a small wooden platform, only big enough to sit cross-legged on. The uncomfortableness of this seating assured that I was continually getting up to stretch over the course of the next several hours. The shelter wasn’t tall enough to accommodate me standing fully. Most of the time I’d straddle the wood, lean over with my hands on my knees, then straighten my legs, and arch my back.
The ponies had a similar structure that was stretched over a taller branch on the tree. Hale glared at me disapprovingly from under it; she’d have much rather have been in her stall where it was warm and dry. Brooks lay next to me on the driest patch of dirt the shelter provided. Benjie had been too exhausted to join us for a fifth day in a row and was being given a break. If he could have made the walk out to the field, he wouldn’t have had much to do. The sheep were inactive and sulky from a week’s worth of rain. Their skittishness from the first few days after the attack had also vanished, and I thought maybe the rain was keeping any nasty smells tamped to the earth.
It wasn’t a bad shift. For all it rained and the wind blew hard against me, I was nicely bundled up under my wool blanket. I spent a lot of the time thinking about the mercenaries, specifically Aella who seemed to be the only one of them who was close to my own age.
She was so different from the other young women in town—we had our share of prickly people, but there was something about her that I couldn’t put my finger on. It made me not mind her defensiveness. I wanted to talk with her more, actually. Would she and the rest of her company come to the inn for supper or would they take their meals privately? From what I had seen of their group, I liked them. Dai, Kaleb, and even Aella had seemed to be good-humored. Though Aedith had certainly owned her formidable presence, she and her daughter had made an impression on me, and I wanted to know more about them.
They would probably have good stories to tell, and they’d be the sort I’d like. They would know if raiders were crossing the border more often to the east, and what new illnesses were important to keep an eye out for. They would also have tales to tell of different lands and older stories about the magical beasts within them. I coveted those above all others.
It was said that hundreds of years ago magical beasts had not existed. Not anywhere. Humans had the run of the world, unmatched by any animal. Then, a guild of the greatest mages of the time had decided to test their magical strength, and together they created a handful of monsters— amalgams, Michael had called them, of creatures from land, air, and sea. Their reasons were wildly speculated upon, but most people thought they wanted familiars.
A normal animal, made into a familiar could be drawn upon when a mage was in need of extra strength. It made sense that people concerned with power would wish to create stores of extra strength greater than any that could be found in
normal animals. The thing was, no one knew how they had managed to do such a thing.
Being one of the largest countries on this side of the Western Sea, Somerlarth had once been the home of enormous libraries. In those buildings, there had been great scrolls and volumes, detailing any magical theory Michael might have wished to read about, or any story that I could have hoped to read about gryphons, dragons and the like. Those archives were now little more than overgrown ruins.
Legend had it that the gods saw the creation of the new animals as blasphemy and struck every mage in the guild stone dead. It didn’t end there though. As punishment for their hubris, and as a warning to all mankind, they didn’t just let those creations live, they caused them to thrive and multiply. They shielded their adopted children from the effects of most magics, and then? They cast them throughout all the lands to wreak devastation.
No one really knew the truth of it. We didn’t even know when exactly they had first begun to show up. When King Lionel’s great great grandfather, King Richard, road his armies across the seven kingdoms in what would later be called The Great Burning he had, well, burnt a great number of old libraries and artifacts. Somewhere amidst the smoke and flames, the truth of the origin of gryphons, phoenixes, dragons, and the rest was lost. These days most of the knowledge and stories we had from those times were reduced to what was passed from town to town through people like mercenaries and bards.
Michael was not nearly so infatuated with what he called “old wives tales.” He wanted to know how the creatures were put together, not why. Which was folly, in my opinion. Knowing however a bird and a cat came together to form a gryphon would not stop it from stealing a sheep.
He also liked to hear about new imports and magical inventions. I could understand that, but whatever innovation swept the kingdom, nothing of that nature reached us until a solid twelve months after the fact. Even then, pleasant indulgences, such as chocolate, or charms to heat bath water, were a rarity.
“I might move to the capital if I could get chocolate every day,” I admitted to my listener Brooks. His tail thumped the ground a few times in agreement.
The exciting stories were the battles that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Not the parts Michael liked, such as learning that Prince What’s-his-face had been usurped by His Highness So-and-so of the kingdom next door, in order to take part of his kingdom. I’d rather learn about the daring heroes who served them—the ones who triumphed against all odds. Who cared who was in charge? It all amounted to much of the same for people like us, as far as I could tell. I liked the ordinary people, who did extraordinary things for those for whom they cared for the most.
When I finally made it home that evening my parents and Michael were ready and waiting to head to town. I had left a little early so that we wouldn’t be reaching the inn too late. Even so, the sun was barely hovering over the crowns of the trees by the time I had washed and pulled on something a little nicer than field clothes.
Over a cream colored, long sleeved shift that hit at my knees, I had on a dress that had once been a vibrant cornflower blue, but had faded after many washes. Despite its altered state, it was my favorite dress. The fabric was soft and the full skirt reached my ankles and pleated prettily. It was one of the few things in my wardrobe that made me feel delicate and feminine. I’d paired it with my usual boots—it was muddy outside after all, but I thought it still looked all right.
The dress covered broad shoulders, a long torso, and strong thick legs— I was no lithe beauty like Nai. Pretty, yes; strong, yes. I could admit to being that, but I was in many ways a female form of Michael. Dry skin from being out in the weather. Cupids bow lips centered on a strong jaw. Gray-green eyes set under thick dark eyebrows. Where these things might make Michael ruggedly handsome, they sort of just made me look rough. I liked my sturdy physique, but with a friend like Nai who was diligent about her appearance it was easy to note where I lacked.
Remembering the onceover Aella had given me earlier, I moved into my parent’s room to take a quick look in the mirror. It wasn’t that I cared what she thought, but I made a face at what I saw. My hair was one of the few things about my appearance that I could truly say I loved, and it was a windswept mess. With the little time I had, I rebraided it, smoothing the flyways and twisting the braids anew with deft fingers. I used a small dab of sunflower oil from the slender jar on my mother’s dresser to make everything sit right. The scent of it draped around me pleasantly. Mother wore the oil often and the smell was like carrying a piece of her around on my shoulders.
“Taryn, are you ready?” she called from the kitchen. “We’re heading to the barn.”
“Coming!” I yelled back. Carefully I replaced the items I had borrowed back where I had found them on my parents’ dresser, and with a last nervous glance at my appearance, I darted back down the hallway.
My family was filing out the front door, and I quick-stepped to keep up with them. I noted with some amusement that Michael had brought his crook, but I checked my urge to tease him. If he thought he could hold off a gryphon with it, then who was I to stop him? After all, I had heard Father muttering that he was bringing his crossbow, and at least Michael wouldn’t have to check his “weapon” at the gate.
Mother rode with Father on Tess, who was more than strong enough to bare the load of both of them, whilst Michael and I both road our own ponies. We might have walked to town and still made fine enough time, but it was simpler to ride. Getting to town in a timely fashion meant we would not have to worry about having to stand to eat, or coming home in the dark and wet. As it was, it ended up being lucky that we got in as early as we did. In the summer months when the light stayed longer, Willy kept the gate open later, but with the dark of fall, he locked his town up tight when he could no longer see a mile down the road. He was closing his booth when we arrived, and his next step was to lock the gate.
“Raynard and kin!” he greeted us. “You’re just in time. I was about to lock up.”
“Will we be able to go home this evening if we come in?” Mother asked teasingly.
Willy bobbed his head. “Yes ma’am. I’ll be back out here for another hour or so after I take my supper, then we’ll shut down for good for night.”
It was protocol more than necessity that drove Willy’s routine. While we still saw the occasional party of bandits, the days of yearly raiders were several decades behind us, along with the previous rulers of Somerlarth, King Theron and Queen Mary. Opinion was always split when it came to the old king and his wife. They were the first monarchs to invest in the education of their common subjects, not just the wealthy ones. They were also the first rulers of Somerlarth in centuries who reigned in total peace. However, that meant that they let a lot of slights and inconveniences go—which was to say they let raiders do what they pleased, so long as they didn’t make too much of a fuss.
When they joined The Dark Lady—the goddess of death—in her court, too early, some had said, their son Lionel had come to power. His first act as king was creating a taskforce—a group of warriors and mages who patrolled our borders. They stamped out the overreaching tendrils of our neighbors to the north and the east.
King Lionel was also the one to increase the number of guards deployed throughout his kingdom. It was directly because of him that we had Willy. He had won the hearts of his people with his dedication to their safety. Though, if you asked some people, he might have been sick of losing his revenue to thieves, and he didn’t concern himself nearly enough with making sure that education continued to flourish.
I tilted my head, squinting in the dusk to get a better look at Willy. As before, his shoulders drooped and now I detected the strain in his smile and the faint purple thumbprints under his eyes. Between his new babe and this mad gryphon nonsense, I wondered if he would be writing for a substitute from the capital. Maybe he already had. If Father were in his place, Mother would have already demanded he take time to raise his child, and leave the bulk of this mess to som
eone younger. I raised my eyebrows at the thought. What would the town be without Willy there to greet us at the gate?
We dismounted and walked our mounts in past him to tie up at the inner horse post as Father signed us all in. A few other horses and ponies were already strung there. I noted Glenn’s mount, as well as Daniel’s and a few other farmers who lived outside the town’s walls. Together, the five of us walked to The Black Gryphon. Under the remaining light of the sun, which trailed weakly over the slanted roofs, and the slightly stronger light of the torches lit on each street corner, I saw Beth with her parents and a few others I recognized. Thunder rumbled off in the distance, promising more rain. I looked apprehensively at the sky. Without a word, we quickened our pace.
Inside The Black Gryphon, a harassed looking Maude directed us to the long table by the far wall which the hunting party had occupied earlier in the day. Now that table, as well as the majority of the other tables, were all but filled. Great hulking men and women were clustered at the center long table, and I recognized Aella, Aedith, Dai, and Kaleb amongst them. They were laughing with their neighbors as well as drinking and eating with gusto.
The sound of foreign accents laced the familiar speech of what was known in mountains. Places like our own village, and it seemed the homes of many of the visiting warriors, spoke specific dialects. Because of that, it was important for anyone who was traveling to know a little bit of all the languages that ran throughout the land. Some of the mercenaries like Dai spoke the south-western way, quickly, gutturally, from their throat. A few had the slow cant of the midlands. Like most people in the country, it seemed the mercenaries could speak the common tongue—it was taught in schools along with simple mathematics, so that made sense. However, every so often there was a hitch as someone fumbled for a word. Only large cities relied on common tongue for day-to-day conversations, so all of us were rusty.
Of Gryphons and Other Monsters (Taryn's Journey Book 1) Page 13