I shrugged lazily. “My lady, I don’t give a blessed damn.”
Feria dropped to earth from nowhere I knew and shrieked, her eagle head snaking out toward Ehlenora. Her chestnut shied again, all but toppling her out of the saddle.
Bar, though loyal to Ly’Tana, dropped to Ehlenora’s other side and clicked his beak several times. In a swift, deadly gesture, his talons raked the air, missing the horse’s flank by a mouse hair.
The poor gelding half-reared in panic. Ehlenora curbed him sharply and dug her spurs deep into his flanks. Bleeding from the horrid gouges, his jaws gaping against the bit, the horse submitted to her. Clearly more afraid of Ehlenora than of the griffins, the gelding stood quiet. Fear sweat flowed from his flanks and neck, and down his muzzle.
As she regained control of her mount, her cheeks flamed with fury and embarrassment.
Rygel’s former love glanced from each of them to glare at me. “I don’t fear you, slave,” she snarled.
I examined my fingernails. “Lady,” I replied quietly. “I can’t think of a bigger mistake than that.”
I sent a swift flare of fire licking under her chin. I’d flung down the gauntlet, so to speak. I goaded her into, hopefully, a rash act.
She started back, her own hand raised to send a fireball of her own out and up, toward me. Yet, she held back. She offered a nasty smile, her eyes narrowed, as she accepted my challenge. If she’d been watching me as closely as she admitted, she knew quite well I was new to magic and obviously never fought an arcane duel in my life. I needed no mind-reading to see her calculating her odds and finding them quite favorable.
Gathering my powers into my fist, I waited. While not exactly a gentleman, I gave the lady first strike. Sticking my thumbs into my swordbelt, I cocked my hip, smiling gently. “You first.”
My companions clearly had other ideas. Tashira flattened his ears and danced forward at the same moment Silverruff, Nahar, Tuatha, White Fang, Darkhan and Ghost growled, hackles up. Dropping to the ground among them, Shirel yowled, a feline mixture of a growl and a scream. Her tail lashed in her rage-filled mood.
“Don’t, lady,” Tashira warned, shaking his head in anger. “Even think about touching him and I’ll flatten you without a thought.”
“Go on,” Tuatha growled, advancing, stiff-legged, toward her with his head low. “I dare you. I double-dog dare you.”
She may not have understood my son, but she knew enough body language to know a threat when she saw it. She glared from Tashira to me to the angry wolves and back again. Her strawberry lips smiled thinly.
“Hide behind your lackeys, slave,” she gritted. “When you want a fight, I’ll be ready.”
Spittle flicked her lips. She turned her pale features toward Rygel. “Too bad you’ll never see your son, my love,” she said, her lips drawn back in a feral smile.
Rygel, unable to control his emotions, gaped at her. “My son?”
“Oh, tell me you forgot that night you slipped into my chambers,” Ehlenora replied with a wicked grin. “He has your eyes. A bastard for the bastard.”
“You lie,” Rygel whispered.
“Do I?” she laughed, lightly, teasing. “You’ll have to find that out, now won’t you?”
Turning her gelding, Lady Ehlenora clapped spurs to his bloody flanks and galloped away. No Kel’Hallan even watched her leave.
“What a bitch,” Arianne marveled, eyeing her departure.
Rygel’s face turned away, his jaw clenched. I studied him sidelong for a moment. Was there truth in her words?
“Hell hath no fury,” Corwyn commented dryly.
I hung my chin over my shoulder, and quirked my brow.
He jerked his toward the rapidly vanishing chestnut. “As a woman scorned, my liege.”
“I see.”
Rygel still hadn’t turned back. Now Arianne watched him with curiosity and no little worry.
“Pa?” Tuatha asked.
I glanced down. “Son?”
“What’s a lackey?”
I chuckled as Rygel turned back. Barking a quick, if forced, laugh, he bent and rubbed Tuatha’s ears.
Arianne scowled at the both of us. “Men,” she snapped, rolling her eyes. “You both seriously should grow up. Like, right now.”
“Ah, what a queen you’ll make,” Gareth was saying as I horned in on their conversation. He cupped Ly’Tana’s chin with his finger. “You’re just like your mother; she’d be so proud to see you now. Filled with her courage and fire. And as headstrong.”
Ly’Tana laughed, entangling her fingers with his. “I got that from you, Father.”
The King chuckled. “Perhaps you did.”
He kissed her brow, his arm over her shoulders. “Come along, all of you,” he said expansively. “And be welcome. Bar, did you find a lady love at last?”
His laughing eyes slid from Bar to Feria.
Bar hissed as Feria flapped her wings and lashed her tail in annoyance. Lightning flickered from eagle eye to eagle eye. Most present braced for the storm sure to follow while those unfamiliar with a griffin hate-hate relationship waited for the billing and cooing.
Those folks were disappointed. The rest of us felt relief when nothing else happened.
Gareth glanced to Ly’Tana in blue confusion.
She giggled and tapped her father’s chest with her fist. “Don’t ask. Just don’t ask.”
“All right, I won’t,” Gareth replied. “But I suspect I need to hear this tale firsthand. Come and be welcome, even the wolves. Don’t eat any horses, however. Anything else, er, um–check with us before hunting, will you?”
He offered Tashira and Shardon a brief half-bow, his lips quirking in a smile. “Welcome home, my lads.”
Tashira bowed over his extended knee. “This isn’t our home, lord,” he said.
“Oh, indeed it is, my friend. It is indeed.”
Shardon and Tashira eyed one another sidelong, confusion flickering across their equine faces.
As the warriors around us mounted up and the griffins took to the skies, Gareth swung into his grey mare’s saddle. Ly’Tana, smiling, laughing, vaulted onto her Mikk and gathered her reins. Thunder and Digger laughed up at her, tails waving. Tuatha trotted toward her, then shifted back toward me.
“Pa?” he said, as I seized a handful of Tashira’s mane and vaulted aboard his broad back. “I’m going to hang with Ma if that’s all right.”
“No worries,” I said as Tashira danced under me.
Tuatha joined his pals Thunder and Digger, leaping and biting at one another under Mikk’s galloping hooves. With Left and Right, as usual, behind her, she merged into the laughing grasp of warriors welcoming her home.
King Gareth reined in his war mare as the others loped away, his blue eyes swiveled toward me. He waited until most had ridden ahead, leaving only a handful of his warriors, including Rygel and Arianne, waiting behind.
The King smiled broadly. “Go on now,” he said, his tone expansive. “His Highness and I must speak in private.”
Arianne bowed in her saddle as Rygel saluted, his expression haunted. I didn’t need to be a mind reader to know why that shadow lay over his eyes.
With Rufus leading the way and Shardon on his right flank, the warriors and the wolves galloped away. Shirel loped easily among them, her paws raced to keep up with the pack. Rufus’s heavy tail blew into her eyes. Their departure left only Tashira, King Gareth and I to stand quiet, waiting.
Once they rode out of earshot, his once laughing eyes hardened as the King of Kel’Halla stared at me.
“Don’t think for a minute, freak,” he gritted, his tone low, “that I’ll ever give my consent.”
I eyed him with anger, yet held my tongue. I knew what he’d say before he said it, for I saw it in his eyes and his mind.
“You’re nothing but a freak of nature,” Gareth snapped, growing angry when I refused to rise to his bait. “Man, wolf, neither, something in between. It doesn’t matter. I’ve already found the p
erfect alliance for my daughter and Kel’Halla.”
Long had I expected this: Gareth’s rejection of my suit for Ly’Tana’s hand. Perhaps it was Darius’ divine foresight, or just simple common sense that told me. Stubborn, hoping to antagonize him, I failed to speak or answer him. His insult bit deep, however, and this I refused to let him see.
His eyes broke away from mine for a brief instant as they softened. “Perhaps you love my daughter and she you,” he said. “But Kel’Halla’s life and future transcends all that. She must, and will, marry another.”
He scowled. “I don’t care what you are or what you’ve done, boy. Ly’Tana and her nation need this marriage. We must have this alliance. She’ll see my logic in time, and, will soon, agree to it.”
“May I ask whom she’s to marry, Gareth?” I asked, tight-lipped. “Arcadia’s brat?”
“Regrettably, the brat as you call him, has died,” Gareth answered, his tone flat. “The King has a royal nephew who will inherit his crown.”
“I suspect you didn’t align yourself with Arcadia,” I said. “Or you wouldn’t pussy-foot around my question. Whom is she to marry?”
His upper lip turned upward in a swift snarl. “Rygel’s half-brother. His Royal Majesty King Rhys-Michael. The King of Khassart.”
The Saga of the Black Wolf continues in “The Kinslayer, Saga of the Black Wolf, Book Five”
About the Author
A. Katie Rose is a workaholic living in San Antonio, Texas. With her day job as a photographer, she writes in what little remains of her spare time. She enjoys long walks, reading (when possible), watching movies, red wine, and drinking beer around a fire with friends. Among her extracurricular activities, she rides her horses and rescues cats.
A Colorado native, she earned her B.A. in literature and history at Western State College, in Gunnison, Colorado. Her first novel, “In a Wolf’s Eyes”, was published in April of 2012. Her second book, “Catch a Wolf”, was released in July, 2013. The third of the series, “Prince Wolf”, was released in May of 2014. “The Unforgiven” was published in March of 2015. The fourth "Saga" novel, "Under the Wolf's Shadow", was published in May of 2016. She is busy working on the fifth of the “Saga of the Black Wolf” series, “The Kinslayer”.
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