The Gryphon Highlord

by Connie Ward

  I conjured a thought, wove it into command. My powers of telekinesis flowed free, unfettered by tonic or ring or even common sense. I opened my hand; the knife Saxton had given me leaped from my boot into my palm with such force it rapped my knuckles against the wall at my back. Averi didn't know what hit him. Quick as a whip, I slashed the blade across his forearm. He released me with a stifled cry and shoved himself away. He stumbled and would have fallen, except the force of my will held him up.

  "Please, highness!” he begged. “You must listen. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I just want a chance to redeem myself. I'll help you and the captain. I'll help you fight Valleri."

  "Only because Valleri is out for your blood,” I hissed.

  Consumed with anger, I summoned power, raw and untamed, hungry for release, for satiation. I wanted Averi bound, helpless before me, as he had once held me. I recalled the strip of leather in Arial's hair and commanded it to unbind itself. It yielded to my will, freeing itself to let the captain's auburn locks fall loose. Another command, wrought by pure thought, picked up the thong and coiled it around Averi's wrists. And when he, in his panic, tried to turn and run, I sent a thought ahead of him, pulling away the laces of his tunic and flinging them to the floor, where they wriggled like snakes, tripping him. Behind me I heard Arial's gasp of awe.

  Averi sprawled face first on the stone of the corridor; I was on him in an instant. My fingers wound into his greasy hair, flinging him onto his back. I reached for more power, found it waiting and eager to do my bidding. It encased Averi in a cocoon of paralysis, holding him fast. I straddled his hips, touched my knife tip to his most private of parts.

  He sucked in a breath, staring at the blade in blood-draining horror. I took his face in my free hand, forced his gaze to meet mine. I allowed a slow smile, relishing the fear etched onto those fair features. “Say, Averi? Have you ever witnessed the gelding of a horse?"

  His terror was such that I nearly laughed. His stricken expression said he recognized in me a glimpse of himself, from not long ago on a grassy hilltop one summer morn. A wicked thrill surged through me. Such power is dangerous, I know. Nevertheless, I won't deny I took pleasure from my cruelty, savouring the heady satisfaction which accompanied that power.

  But a pathetic mewl from his lips unexpectedly moved me to pity, and when I looked deeper into his eyes, I saw myself reflected there, from a time when I had been the victim. Revenge and retribution did not seem so attractive now. My own spite and malice revolted me. I could not justify another's misery inflicted by my own hand, no matter how righteous my motives.

  I brought the blade to his throat. “You're a coward, Averi. You deserve a slow, painful death up on those stakes with your friends. But today I'm feeling generous, so I'll give you a quick, easy one on the point of my knife. Better yet..."

  I broke off, slit the leather binding his wrists and wrapped the fingers of one hand around the hilt of my dagger. “...I'll let you give it to yourself."

  I leaned back, watched the blade respond to my summons. It quivered in his grip, striving to break his restraint. If Averi's desire to fight me had been a fraction stronger, or his belief in himself as a competent, decent human being existed at all, I would not have been able to bat his will aside as easily as slapping down a house of cards. But wasn't that the nature of cowards? They possessed neither the courage nor the inclination to do battle against those stronger than they. Stripped of his self-will, Averi bent beneath my power, and closed his eyes, unable in his cowardice to watch his hand bear the knife forward to slice his own throat.

  "Kathedra,” came an unsteady voice behind me, one I recognized as Saxton's. “Is it wise of you to employ such power so near to Ginger's device?"

  Drat! I hadn't considered that. I recalled a child's misguided spell in a castle not so very different from this one, aware of the devastation such a misstep could wreak. My thoughts scattered, panicked, and the dagger leapt from Averi's hand to skitter down the corridor.

  I scrambled after the blade, returned to where Averi quaked on the stones and raised it for a killing stroke.

  Then, from out of nowhere, strong arms seized me, pinning mine in their grip of iron, and pulled me off my victim. “Leave him,” Arial hissed into my ear. “He's not worth the guilt you'll feel later at killing a helpless man."

  I bucked and kicked in the captain's grasp, amazed at his temerity, bewildered by his plea for mercy. “Let me go! Damn you, Arial. I've seen you kill helpless prisoners before. Indeed you've slain them by the dozens. Who do you—"

  "Exactly, Kathedra. I know something of what I speak. Do you think I wouldn't take pleasure in running him through myself for all he's done? But listen to me. We can use him."

  I ceased my struggles. “Use him? How?"

  "Yes, how?” Saxton echoed, tottering up beside me, a hand to the gash in his brow.

  Arial set me down, breathing hard, wincing from the pain the effort of restraining me had cost his abused body. “If he wants to assist you so very badly and save his no-good hide he can damn well earn it. Let him be the mage's decoy. Chiverly's men are looking for him anyway. Why risk yourself when you have this miscreant grovelling at your feet?"

  The captain had a point. I gnawed a lip, glanced over at the motionless figure sprawled out like a rug. “Can we trust him?"

  Saxton offered, “I think we can trust him to do whatever he can to save his own skin."

  "I think you're right."

  I bent over Averi. He lay so still that I actually feared I had scared the little wretch to death. I knelt beside him, checked for a pulse. Blood beat there, fast and strong. In an effort to rouse him, I started slapping, not hard ... well, not as hard as I could have, to no result. It wasn't until Arial planted a boot in his ribs that he groaned and tried to sit up.

  Arial got him on his feet. I grabbed the throat of Averi's scruffy tunic. “All right, you scum. You're going to do something for me, and if you mess up or betray me to Valleri, I will sniff you out and make you finish your conversation with my dagger. Distance is no obstacle to me. You won't be able to hide. Do you understand?"

  The glazed look in his eye told me he did. He took a big gulp, nodded. “What do I do?"

  I told him, reiterating Ginger's instructions to me. Averi's complexion went winter white. Saxton remarked, “He's going to run like a rabbit."

  Averi scowled in Saxton's direction. “No, I've got it covered."

  The rest of us donned our helms, completing our disguises, weapons at the ready. By the time we got above ground I had gained a whole new confidence in the plan, in myself. For the first time, I had acted by thought and not reflex. But could I do it again?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  We emerged in the bailey via the kitchens, deserted by the servants, and crept into the shadows of the granaries. From this vantage we had a clear view of the yard, including the front gate. The alarm had been sounded. The torch glare revealed soldiers clustered in knots here and there. Valleri had the bailey lit up like the temple of a pagan sun god. The Shouda, confined to their kennels, bayed and howled in a frenzy, throwing themselves at the wire of their cages.

  Arial, crouched beside my knee, gestured with his blade towards the furry, four-legged killing machines. “It looks like you and your mage have worked the Shouda into a lather."

  That was an understatement. I rubbed the palm stamped with Owyn's talisman. “They shouldn't be able to track us through our protection spells, but I guess we'll see soon enough. Is everybody clear?"

  My reply was a clatter of armour and rattle of weaponry, which I took for an affirmative.

  Where was Ginger? I hoped we hadn't missed him. This was the appointed rendezvous. Even as I scanned the shadows, a form slunk towards us from the pantry wall. As the mage hunkered down beside me, Averi tried to scuttle back into the kitchen but Arial snagged his jerkin.

  "What took you so long?” Ginger hissed at me. “Have you seen Urharde? Or Valleri?” He fired questions l
ike arrows, not giving me time to answer. “And who's he?"

  "Slight change in plans. Averi's going to be the decoy."

  I saw his face twist in the torchlight, his eyes narrow. He remembered what Averi had done. While he might question my judgment in the matter, time had run out for second-guessing. “Whatever. The teleportal is open and connected to the tunnel. Chiverly's troops are over by the tower. Send out your bait ... I mean, your man."

  This last he spoke strictly for Averi's benefit. I nudged him. “You know what to do. Remember, don't enter the tunnel yourself. All you have to do is close the door behind them. That will shut down the teleportal."

  He nodded, and loped out into the open, with only the speed of his legs for protection against Valleri's rage. Averi's mission was to draw the attention of Chiverly's troops, which shouldn't be difficult since they were prowling every inch of the castle for him, and lure them into my secret tunnel. If the teleportal was operating properly and Averi didn't screw up, the tunnel should exit in the holding cells instead of my apartment.

  Ginger touched my shoulder. “Shall we?"

  We stepped into the bailey, intending to collect Saxton's men with whom to help us reclaim Arial's command, but we got only several yards when a trio of Shouda spotted us. Apparently, Valleri had reneged on his promise.

  The dogs headed our way, tongues lolling as their powerful legs carried them at a gallop, their yammer turning all eyes in the compound towards us. I didn't know what to do; neither did Ginger. We froze, in anticipation of the worst, while Saxton and Arial took up a defensive stance before us, swords raised. I opened my palm, expecting to see it filled with dancing runes or mystical radiance, but all I saw was sweat.

  The first Shouda to reach us, a brindled male with a ridge along his back, nudged its snout between our protectors’ legs to nuzzle my hand. Sinking onto its haunches, it looked up at me with big brown mischievous eyes and tipped its head, panting insipidly. The other two, a pair of small fawn-coloured females, rubbed their flanks against Ginger, the bolder one even throwing herself to the ground at his feet, begging for a belly rub.

  I exchanged a glance with the mage, who seemed surprised but not pleasantly so. With a shrug, I surrendered to the male dog's bunting and scratched his huge, shaggy head. “Hello, puppy. Hello, baby. What's your name, big fella? Oooh, that feel good? Want some more? Want a—"

  "Kathedra,” Ginger snarled. “Just get rid of them!"

  "Oh. Sorry."

  I tried to shoo the Shouda away, but of course they wouldn't budge. I still lacked the appropriate command, the same one missing from our talisman. Though Arial and Saxton both spat a variety of invectives, none of them worked either. So we resumed our march across the bailey, the dogs cavorting around our legs with playful yips and snarls, the females so insistent, that Ginger finally bent beneath his hatred to drag his fingers through their furry scruffs. “When I see that witchdoctor,” he growled, “I'm going to ring his ancient neck."

  "Actually, when you think about it, what could be better cover for two Umagi than an escort of Shouda?"

  His reply was forestalled as a disturbance broke out behind us. A clutch of Tock's men congregating nearby started yelling and rattling their weapons. We turned to see the cause of the commotion. Averi went flying past as if demons snapped at his heels, pursued by swordsmen in Chiverly's colours. Nimbly dodging a pair of pikemen, he hurtled a cart full of hay and zipped into the alley that led to my tunnel, his pursuers huffing and puffing behind in their mail.

  Saxton drew his sword and bellowed at Tock's troops, “After him, you layabouts! A chest of gold to the man who brings Valleri his head!” He answered the look I speared him with a sheepish grin. “The more the merrier."

  Excited by the racket, the Shouda barked and yelped but otherwise seemed disinclined to leave us. We were halfway across the compound when a shout rang out over the bailey. “Saxton, wait!"

  The voice sent a rush of shivers up my spine. Not only could we ill afford another delay, the last person I needed to see right now was Serasteffan. Saxton, however, couldn't very well ignore his hail. We stopped to wait for him and his core of goons to catch up. I placed myself beside Arial, ready to restrain him if need be. Some of those bruises on his face had been put there by the Butcher, and gleefully so.

  Saxton feigned bafflement at the hubbub around us. “What's going on? Why are the Shouda loose? I thought Valleri wanted them kennelled."

  The female Shouda circled Ginger's legs, the hair on their scruffs bristling at Serasteffan's approach. One even growled. Spying them, the Butcher didn't get too close. With his closely cropped blonde hair and neatly trimmed beard he was an attractive man, the pale scar slashed across his cheek only enhancing his masculine appeal. But his angelic appearance hid a monster of unspeakable evil. He possessed the viciousness of an Averi and the malevolence of a Ragsey—a deadly combination. All were cruel men, hungry for wealth and power, therefore receptive to Valleri's manipulation. I could not fathom why Val had chosen to align himself with such miscreants. Perhaps that was just it; he'd thought he had no choice.

  "They were raising such a ruckus that Valleri figured there must be an Umagi or two around.” He tilted his head, his nasty grin parting his lips as he studied Saxton with sly, dark eyes. “I was thinking maybe that they could've snuck in with you and your mercs when you delivered the queen-bitch."

  I made a quick movement, my hand darting for my dagger, only to feel Arial's fingers dig into my arm. I smothered a yelp, stilled my palm on my hilt. Serasteffan caught the motion, his hooded eyes shifting to look at me. I met that baleful gaze, though it took all my nerve. I'd seen Crusader prisoners after they'd been entrusted to his not-so-tender care, and later wished I hadn't.

  Saxton played it nonchalant. “Anything's possible, I guess. I'm sure the Shouda will take care of them."

  Serasteffan's attention returned to Saxton, after wandering first to Ginger then Arial. “Nevertheless, I've got men patrolling the grounds. They may be lurking nearby, waiting to slip out the gate with the next courier or scout."

  For some reason, known only to the male mind, Saxton couldn't resist taunting him. “Looks like Chiverly's got your pal Averi on the run. I wonder if Valleri's got a stake picked out for him already."

  But Serasteffan never reacts the way one would predict. That's part of what makes him so scary. He laughed, slamming the back of his hand against Saxton's chest. “Sure does. In fact, Val's got one for each of us, just waiting for the moment we'll screw up. But I'll have you know I sharpened the end of Averi's myself ... and yours is leaning there against the wall beside it, my friend."

  Serasteffan plunked on his helm, turned to go. “By the by, Val's looking for you. He's on his way to collect his princess, wants you to meet him in the Hall."

  That was about the time I figured things were probably going to get difficult for us very soon. My suspicion was confirmed two seconds later when, at that inopportune moment, Uncle chose to break out of his prison. A clamour arose behind us as a flood of Halberdiers boiled out from the tower's entrance onto the steps, shrieking battle cries and waving their pikes. Their uniforms were little more than tattered rags and their stench could have toppled an ox. Startled, Serasteffan paused, turned back our way...

  To make matters worse, Valleri appeared in the kitchen doorway, in his surcoat of blue and gold, a gang of elite troops at his side. “The princess!” he yelled out. “She's gone!"

  Then he spotted us, and comprehension registered on his face as clearly as if someone had thrown a pail of whitewash in it. He looked from Saxton to me, and knew. A mixture of anger and disbelief crossed his face, and deeper, another emotion I recognized as anguish. So, Val? How does it feel to be betrayed by someone you love?

  "Stef, seize them!"

  Serasteffan whirled, sword in hand, and burbled out an order to his men, even as a severely pissed off male Shouda took his arm in its jaws.

  Pushing me aside, Ginger dragged free his sw
ord. As he sprang to meet the first Royalist blade, one of the female dogs leapt for the swordsman's throat, while the second went for his leg. Soldiers closed in. A scream of steel behind me said Arial had entered the fray. As the Shouda wrestled Serasteffan to his knees, a swordsman leapt forward, his weapon driving clear through the dog's flank and pinning it to the ground.

  I let out a shriek of rage and rushed in without thinking, only to have Saxton snatch my sleeve, holding me back. Over his shoulder, Ginger bellowed, “You two, get her out of here!"

  Saxton tried leading me away but I balked at leaving Ginger alone to cover our retreat. Arial pushed me into Saxton's arms, the sword in his fist already coloured with blood. “Don't worry, highness. I'll stay.” He whirled, his blade driving into another as its edge fell, deflecting it a hair's breadth from Ginger's neck.

  Saxton snagged my wrist and spun, his sword cleaving into two of Stef's soldiers stupid enough to stand in his way. Meanwhile, Valleri and his Twelfth fought to stem the tide of guardsmen pouring from the tower. His Royal hacked up a storm, for the Twelfth and Uncle's Halberdiers had always been the fiercest of rivals. So while they were thus distracted, they were useless to me.

  A few lucky escapees fought their way past them, however, only to collide with Saxton and me. We ducked our heads and ran, dodging crazed Halberdiers and their halberds. Fortunately, they were not interested in taking sides. They wanted only one thing—out. Earlier, Saxton estimated their food stores had expired four days ago. Half mad with hunger, they were desperate to escape the castle.

  Seconds later an explosion rocked the ground. Torn from Saxton's grasp, I was hurled to the cobbles along with everyone else in the bailey. Two big booms rolled out like thunder, and a cloud of black smoke billowed up, engulfing the entire keep. Choking, I pushed myself onto my elbows only to be blinded by thick, acrid smoke. It burned my eyes and my stung my throat.

  At least I no longer need worry for Ginger's safety. Obviously this was his work, a sampling of what might have happened in that warehouse if not for Ragsey's sabotage. Very impressive. Likely Ginger had employed the spel as a diversion to aid our escape rather than inflict damage. Nevertheless, the pewter haze that enveloped the bailey revealed outcrops of fire leaping up all across the yard.