Her touch off balanced him for a moment and she felt a flash of joy that the power of her smile and the touch of her hand could still shake him. He recovered quickly, reaching up to squeeze her hand before pushing it off. A mixed signal.
“Sage will have the kudzu,” said Ignatius quietly, “if she comes with me to the Angel’s castle.”
Taragon shook his head slowly, pursed lips conveying frustration as his green and brown eyes moved from Sage to Ignatius.
“Your fathers took our females to the castle in generations past, you will not do the same.”
“I am not taking her. She will come of her own free will to start something new, something that will belong to the blood of the North, not the blood of one tribe.”
“What is it you are starting?” said the chief, his anger not assuaged.
“Riders,” answered the Cherub.
Sage could see his plan already. Griffin riders based out of the impregnable fortress of the Angels, fueled by the power of the Nymph’s kudzu, bound to the land and all of the peoples of the North. But does he still want more from me? As the details of the Cherub’s plan unfolded in her mind, the adventure of it, the audacity, she knew the answer to her question did not matter. I must go.
“Hope,” she said.
Ignatius nodded at her before turning back to Taragon, awaiting his answer. The old Nymph looked to the griffin where he sat cracking open the elk bones with his battle-axe beak, crunching down the marrow inside and flicking his rope of a tail to sweep the sand clean. Finally, he sighed, realizing the power of youth’s insanity to push their elders to dream of something more.
“You said you had come to convince me to send everything I have to fight the South,” said Taragon, his voice solemn. You shall have it.” Sage could see the chief’s answer was like a finger releasing an arrow in Ignatius’ mind.
“Send your army to Oberon and tell him that I have sent you,” said the Cherub. “Sage will tend the kudzu, they will belong to her, to the Nymphs, but they will be your contribution to the Riders for the benefit of the North. We will return to bring more of your warriors to the castle to work with the griffins; we will need more Riders.”
Taragon nodded and voiced his concerns for his people. “We will need more plants if all of our warriors are to fight.”
“You shall have them as soon as Sage can ride.”
Taragon reached out for Ignatius’ arm. “We are of the same blood now, the blood of the land. Give us hope, Rider.”
Sage sheathed her kusarigama and slug her blowgun on her back, whistling for Archeo. Ignatius handed her the pollinated female kudzu seedpods and she took them with a sense of awe, knowing that each one of these could provide the food and building material to spawn a new family line in the tribe. Having just one would make me a great leader. She placed them reverently back into the soil of Ignatius’ pouch and tied them securely to the belt that held her loincloth. As Taragon backed away slowly, she looked at the young Cherub and nodded.
“Let’s ride,” she said.
He smiled, turning and walking back to the griffin.
“His name is Kaizen,” he said, reaching for the reigns.
“Hello Kaizen. I bet you have never had two riders on your back.”
The catbird cocked his head at her, eying the kestrel and looking to Ignatius for insight into how to treat this wingless prey animal.
“He will learn that you are a member of the pride, dominant to him but submissive to me.”
“That is not happening,” she said with a laugh.
She stepped forward, pulling half of the meat she kept on her to feed Archeo and offering it to Kaizen. She felt nervous; even lying down, the griffin’s head stood several feet above hers, talons the size of swords resting in the sand. Just like a giant kestrel. Kaizen stretched his great beak towards her, trying to snap the food out of her hand. She was too quick, jumping to the side and smacking him on the snout. He jerked back and she stepped forward, placing her hand on his feathers and setting the food on the sand. He eyed her quietly as he had Ignatius and when she nodded, he bent down to eat the morsel.
While he was chewing, she slid slowly around his neck, keeping her hand on his feathers and then his hide so he would not be surprised. Climbing nimbly up the catbird’s side using the harness as a ladder, she slung her leg over his shoulders and glanced down at the Cherub with a look that told him she would not slide quietly into a submissive role. He nodded with a defeated grin and raised eyebrows before spreading his golden-brown wings to fly up and join her.
“I’m still riding in front,” he said, slipping into place on Kaizen’s back.
He guided her legs into the straps and she felt herself being pulled tight against his back, his swords poking her awkwardly in the face. His wings made it uncomfortable for both of them and he was forced to move around behind.
“I guess not,” she giggled, feeling the huge muscles and course fur beneath her legs as she locked them into the harness.
He slid in behind her and she tolerated the contact because she knew she was about to become the first Nymph who was not mated to an Angel to fly. How convenient this is for him. She chased the thought away, feeling the comfort his body provided, securing her along with the harness to the catbird’s shoulders.
“Ready?” he whispered, his wings and arms wrapping around her to grab the reigns. She looked out across the rock gardens at the Nymphs who had gathered to watch in awe. I’m leaving my home behind but everything I need, Archeo, my weapons, the kudzu, is right here.
“I was born ready,” she said with gusto.
Her stomach lurched as he pulled back on the reigns. Kaizen’s great wings did not struggle against the air the way those of the Cherubim did. He reared back, causing her to grip tightly with her legs, happy to have Ignatius holding her, and felt the griffin jump into the air. Archeo screamed in confusion, circling tightly above their heads as each beat of the griffin’s wings propelled them higher and higher. For a moment, all Sage could feel was the lurching power of their mount, her vision was filled with feathers and fur while she clenched onto the harness in fear. But then, as they leveled off, she felt the warm air pulling them smoothly up, circling over the garden in a comfortable cadence that alternated between gliding and accelerating. The motion was easy, pleasant, and she felt herself calming just as Ignatius whispered.
“Relax, enjoy the moment.”
She was torn between annoyance and intrigue that he could read her so well, that she was here, out of her element and moving into his world. The feeling passed when she looked out at her village from a perspective that she had never allowed herself to consider because it had always been impossible. The pagodas were perched pleasingly on the rocky foothills, each multilevel family shelter punctuating the balanced rock gardens that ran throughout the village. Further down into the forest she could see Taragon’s throne where the kudzu vines ran into the arbor, here and there the red glow of a koona blinking faintly in the bright sun where it was outlined against the impenetrable canopy below. Nymphs could be seen in the branches, their falcons chasing the beetles. If I succeed more of them will join me up here. Looking up she squinted against the wind caused by their forward motion, tears forming in her eyes. The tears were fitting as she sensed she was in a moment that would stay with her the rest of her life. Ignatius directed Kaizen in a wide arch that brought the plains into view and she closed her eyes, feeling the moment as she left one life and headed for another that, while it was full of miraculous possibilities, would lead her and her people inextricably to war.
The forest droned away beneath them for hours as Kaizen fell into a rhythm, pushed onward by his trust in Ignatius and the knowledge that their pride waited ahead. As they flew, muscles that had never been used for the purpose of holding onto a flying griffin strained to keep Sage upright. She struggled to keep her dry eyes open, fascinated by the empty wilderness that, when viewed from the forest, seemed so small, the world collapsing to the size of
the surrounding trees. The feeling was similar to being up in the mountains on a clear day but the sense of freedom, of seeing the bigger picture, of altered perspective, was infinitely grander here, flying across the empty North.
After a time, she rested her eyes and let herself lean back into Ignatius despite her desire not to play into his dreams. He wrapped his wings around her and she was grateful for their warmth as the dimming sun, the constant wind, and the altitude brought a chill even at midsummer. Sinking into his comforting embrace she thought about the hard miles of hiking they were passing over, twisting trails and dangerous terrain leading up into the southern mountains that ringed the forest. The terrain would have taken days to traverse on foot. I wonder if the Nymphs who flew this way with the Angels felt the same. She dozed for a time, drifting into one dream and waking into another as they glided onward. Towards sunset she roused herself from Ignatius, laughing out loud at how tired he must be after holding them both in the saddle for so long.
“Why do you laugh?” he asked.
Ignoring his question, she simply pointed ahead to where the castle was coming into view. She had never been there, but she had heard stories of the place and she recognized the white wall that lined the rim of the cliffs that were the only approach to the fortress. A waterfall fell through the mouth of a lion at its center and she caught a glimpse of a statue in a courtyard before they blasted past a castle big enough for the seven-foot-tall Angels who had built it. So empty. For all of the castle’s grandeur, the stained glass, the high vaulted feasting hall with trap doors for winged warriors, her keen eyes could see no inhabitants.
They landed softly in the lush meadow, Kaizen’s great wings still fresh despite the weight of an extra rider. Sage could see cozy cabins dotting the fields among the steep mountain slopes and the glowing reflection of the sun setting to the northwest lit the scene with a magical essence. The duo dropped from their mount, Sage climbing with sore arms and Ignatius jumping on sore wings and walked together on shaky legs to the rear saddlebags. The Cherub pulled another elk haunch from the pack and Kaizen jumped around to face them, eager to receive his reward.
“We are going to need more meat,” said Ignatius. “A lot more meat.”
Sage ruffled the animal’s feathers and eyed Ignatius’ wings. “They are like males, if you keep them fed, you can get them to do what you want.”
“Fed, among other things,” answered Ignatius, following the path of her eyes to his wings and shaking his head at the analogy.
Sage looked away from the feasting beast to see three griffins and a Cherub charging across the meadow towards them. The three griffins tackled Ignatius in a ball of fur and feathers and she cocked her head while she watched them roll in the grass.
“You must be Sage,” said the Cherub, reaching for her arm, “I’m Sequoia.”
She shook his bracer, noting the way he stared at her pointed ears with a quiet smile. He was shorter than Ignatius and older, with just a touch of grey on the sides of his long, straight, black hair. He kept it tied with a woven band of grass so that it fell down his back. Sequoia carried the customary daggers, three fewer than Ignatius, and a simple forest bow. Sage liked the short black beard he wore and noticed the bundle of books he carried on his side in a satchel.
“I guess there are three in our little kingdom,” she said.
“We will need a great many more, there is already too much work,” answered Sequoia. “We have to keep the griffins fed so they will stop hunting, you will need to tend your kudzu, plus we need firewood and to keep the castle in order. Too much for four sets of hands.”
“Four?”
“Hael, an Angel,” answered Ignatius as he whipped slobber and feathers from his vest.
“Let’s get to it then,” she answered cheerily.
Kaizen lumbered off up the meadow where he was joined by six more of his kind. Sage could see they were nearly as large as he was and the sight of them still sent shivers down her spine. More of them circled above, hunting the slopes for sheep that were easy prey, unaccustomed to griffins of the larger size. I will have to adapt quickly to this new world or I will end up like the sheep.
“I have to go work with them,” said Ignatius. “They require constant training. Sequoia will help you to plant the kudzu.”
She detected a hint of sadness in his voice, their time together ending if only for a few hours. “Take Nymo,” said the Cherub, “she is the most friendly of them. You don’t have feathers, so I think it will take longer for them to accept you into the pride. She will help.”
Sage nodded, pulling the last of her meat from her pouch. She pulled off a small portion for Archeo and felt his familiar weight as he landed on her leather wrapped arm. Nymo looked up at her expectantly, her tail wagging with excitement. Sage fed the griffin the small handful of meat while she scratched her feathers and watched Ignatius running with his smaller griffins up towards the rest of the pride.
“Don’t slow down for me,” she said to Sequoia.
The Cherub nodded with a half grin and took a running leap, gliding down the meadow with Nymo and Archeo flying above. She felt her legs loosening as she bounded through the meadow, her training and years spent hunting counteracting the high altitude. They reached the castle walls in a matter of moments and she found herself left behind as her three companions alighted on top of the battlements.
“It was designed without doors,” called Sequoia.
She smiled to herself at the sight of Archeo, Nymo, and the Cherub peering down at her with only their various heads visible. I will have to take charge to shape this place.
“A rope, if you please!” she called up to her companions.
A few minutes later and a bark made line, crude compared to those made from kudzu vines, dropped over the side. She climbed deftly up to join the others where she could survey their surroundings. Thinking aloud, she described what she saw and what they would need to Sequoia.
“We need a place to plant the kudzu with good soil, water, and sunlight. The pods will have to be kept warm through the winter, so it should be near the castle. They won’t grow in stone, so the courtyard is out but we can’t have any animals coming by and eating them. How about there?”
Sequoia laughed at Nymo where she sat pawing playfully at Archeo. The little bird was dwarfed by the griffin but played along anyway, pecking back before landing on Nymo’s back, both of them looking to Sage for food. After a moment the Cherub followed her finger to the only piece of the meadow that was still lit by the sun, a gap in the western mountains creating a spotlight that would receive extra sunlight throughout the year. She motioned, building with her hands, and Sequoia followed along, watching her vision for what the kudzu could build unfolding on a canvas of glowing grass.
“I’ll start by building a protective shelter for the plants we have, and then a storage chamber for pods with koona so we will always have food. Then a ladder into the castle, I’ll need Nymphs skilled in petrifying, and quarters for more warriors.”
“Don’t forget the eggs and dens for the griffins.”
“Of course,” she said. “It will all be neat and orderly, a kingdom with everything we will need.”
“This is why Ignatius brought you.” When her cocked head told the Cherub she didn’t understand, Sequoia continued. “He said you would know just where to put everything.”
As long as they know who is running the castle. She nodded without expressing her thoughts and led the way back down the wall and into the meadow. Sequoia worked with her to reverently plant the two kudzus on opposite ends of the shrinking patch of sunlit meadow. They could feel the plants eagerly spreading roots, desperate to grow and reproduce in the short window of summer that had shaped the evolution of their ancestors. When they had them in the ground she tasked Sequoia with finding short stakes that would form the framework for the growing vines. As he dropped off load after load of the branches, she used her kusarigama to cut them to length, lighting the scraps into a growi
ng fire that let them continue their work into the night. When they had finished the frame of a floor and the first levels of a pagoda that would grow up around the plants, protecting them and providing a shelter where edible pods containing koona could be stored, Ignatius appeared out of the dark.
He was followed by Kaizen and a second griffin, nearly as large as the first. His presence brought her to a pause and for the first time in hours she broke off the relentless pace. With the distraction of her work gone she felt the immensity of the empty mountains that surrounded their little clan. Ignatius settled in next to the fire and she joined him, watching the griffins meld in around the flames. She smelled the fire and felt the cool mountain air, stealing a glance at the Cherub who sat cross-legged, eyes lost in the fire.
“What are you thinking?” she asked him quietly.
He looked up from the embers but she could still see them reflected there, blazing animal lights silhouetted by darkness on all sides. He shook his head, turning away from her with a touch of sadness that told her he wasn’t going to share.
He pointed across the fire to the griffin that sat next to Kaizen. “That’s Tredlar.”
She examined the animal, noting the fire in its eyes. No different than his eyes. “Is he for me?”
“She.”
“You named a female griffin Tredlar?”
She couldn’t help but giggle, disarming the Cherub and pushing away his troubled memories with the levity that came so naturally to her tribe.
“You don’t like the name?” He sounded disappointed. “You are going to be her rider.”
“Do you have any meat?”
“We’re out,” he said.
She rose, feeling all of their blazing eyes upon her. Stepping lightly, she moved around the fire towards the animal that had the power to change her future, the future of her race. I could get more kudzu, I could go anywhere if I can ride her. She felt terror in her heart, the stories of her elders coming back to her as she stood before the griffin. Something in her spirit wouldn’t let her wait even though she didn’t have any meat to bribe the catbird with. She whistled softy in an attempt to calm herself and the griffin. Archeo and Nymo glided into the ring of light cast by the fire, drawn by her whistle. The bird landed on her shoulder, looking for food. She felt Nymo rub her beak on her leg and watched the adult griffin relax. She moved forward so she stood next to her and sat down. The little griffin laid her head in her lap and the connection gave her the confidence to set her hand on the big griffin’s paw, gently stroking the fur. Its better this way, without the meat, without the control.
Last Stand of the Blood Land Page 20