The Gryphon Highlord

by Connie Ward

  "He refused?"

  Uncle nodded. “It never occurred to me he might want to marry you himself."

  Aghast, I stared at him.

  "I couldn't permit that, of course,” he babbled. “He's not of royal blood. Indeed his stock is as common as the cook's.” Adamant, he shook his head, still unable to comprehend the notion that some people might choose to marry for love. “I told him I had betrothed you to Lesuperis, but Valleri wouldn't hear of it."

  My heart contracted in anguish. “Your one mistake, Uncle. Had you allowed Valleri to marry me, he would have stayed loyal forever. Had you allowed us to be together, had you given us your blessing, none of this would have happened."

  But it had happened, and because of it the lives of so many people had changed course, their destinies swept in different directions, the fate of a nation—whether for good or bad, who will ever know?—had been irreversibly altered. The past could not be reshaped and the truth was irrelevant.

  There was no time for such self-indulgent musings, however. For Uncle lay mortally wounded and someone was battering down the door.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

  Valleri stepped over the splintered remains of the barricade, sword drawn. His steely glare swept over me to settle on Uncle, scoring him with twin daggers of hatred and malice

  "Come to kill me, have you, Val?” Uncle said with surprising calm.

  "Looks like you've done a thorough job of it yourself.” Valleri snorted, his gaze shifting to me. “I suppose he's already told you his side of the story. Has he confessed to you all his worldly sins and begged your forgiveness? Did you listen to his prattle? Do you believe his lies?"

  "He's dying, Val. Why would he lie?"

  "So you'll hate me. He can't bear the thought you might love me."

  "I trusted you, Valleri,” Uncle interrupted. “We had a deal. You betrayed me."

  "Betrayed you?” Valleri snapped. “No, Bertrand. Don't act so outraged. This is all your own fault."

  "Your insolence is astonishing,” Uncle burbled. “I offered you more than any man of your station deserves."

  Pain crept into Valleri's eyes, a pain I had seen many times but had been unable to fathom. Until now.

  "A man of my station,” Valleri sneered, taking a step forward. “That's always how you thought of me, isn't it? A stray animal permitted to eat the best food out of the finest porcelain, when it should be gleaning scraps out of the gutter. A peasant educated and refined when he should be out labouring in the fields with the rest of his kind. Someone to be pitied and tolerated but never accepted. That's all I ever was to you and everyone else in this cesspit."

  "No, Valleri,” I whispered, stricken by his bitterness. “You're wrong. You were everything to me."

  Ignoring me, he resumed his advance upon Uncle. “But I was useful to you for a while, until you threw me aside, just as you did Kathedra. You denied me what I wanted most. More than the generalship of the Gryphon Highlord. More than the title of your heir. More than even the juiciest morsel you tossed me from your plate when I was a child, as you would a dog."

  Though his whole body trembled with anger, Valleri managed to compose himself and point a menacing finger. “I only ever wanted Kathedra for my wife. You promised she would be mine."

  In desperation Uncle tried to reason with him. “Only for a short while, Valleri. I loaned her to you for your temporary use. It was not meant to be forever."

  Loaned? Temporary? Use? So. I had been reduced from pawn to common chattel. Me. The daughter of a queen.

  "Nonetheless, you let me believe otherwise in order to serve your own ends."

  Uncle strained to push himself up, fury lending him strength. “Does your greed know no bounds?” he sputtered, struggling onto his knees as if his rage alone were enough to propel his broken body forward. “I gave you more than what was necessary and you readily agreed to the terms. Not only did I give you the rank of Gryphon Highlord, I permitted you the privilege of sating your lust upon royal flesh. You. A man who should have no more been allowed to look at her! You ungrateful cur. What more could you possibly want?"

  Silence fell in the wake of Uncle's diatribe. Valleri's face was a mask of hatred. I refused to believe I was the cause of all this. There was another reason that explained why he had done all he did; I could see it in his eyes, something dark and sinister, left festering inside him for too many years ... and we were about to find out what.

  "This,” Valleri snarled, brandishing his blade. A remote smile curved his mouth; anticipation made his eyes glitter coldly. “I want this."

  I recognized the look. Bloodlust. I'd seen it in him before, during the heat of battle. Scrambling to my feet, I thrust myself between them. Uncle collapsed to the floor, having great difficulty breathing now. “Please, Valleri,” I begged. “Don't do this."

  He raked me with a cutting glance. “I've waited a long time, Kathedra. You will not deny me my vengeance."

  "Vengeance? Surely not because he refused to let us marry. What is it, Val? Tell me."

  "Because he killed my mother."

  "Your mother?” I echoed, confused. “But your mother died at Idyll, because a hearthmage's spell had gone awry.” I almost said because of you, but refrained.

  Val flung Uncle a hideous scowl. “You didn't tell her?"

  "I kept my word,” Uncle coughed. “Even now. You thankless bastard."

  A terrible knot writhed in my belly. Lips trembling, I said, “Tell me what, Val?"

  Valleri took a deep breath. “Mauranna was my mother."

  I gaped in disbelief.

  "Kathedra, I'm sorry you found out this way. I assumed Bertrand already told you. I ... I don't know what to say."

  "Try."

  He shook his head, a rueful twist to his lips. “I was afraid if you knew the truth, you'd hate me because I was her son. Because if not for her, for what happened at Idyll, none of this would have happened, and you wouldn't have had to live your life fettered by your Umagi powers. I agreed to his scheme to prevent you from learning the truth. Then I fell in love with you. But when I asked Bertrand for your hand, he denied me."

  "Of course I denied you!” Uncle bellowed. “It would taint the bloodline."

  "Quiet, Unc,” I hissed, intercepting Valleri as he lunged, sword on the upswing. “You're not helping me here."

  I ducked under Val's blade and planted my palms in his chest, holding him at bay. But he easily detached himself, plucking me from him as if I were a gnat. His hand clamped over my wrist, and he dragged me before Uncle. “Ahh, yes. That's your biggest complaint, isn't it, Bertrand? I'm common. I must admit, for a while it was gratifying to see you forced by Kathedra's alleged death to acknowledge a commoner as your heir. I know how galling it must have been for you."

  His fist tightened around my arm with crushing force, making me wince. “Val, you're hurting me."

  He shoved me aside without heed, his attention never wavering from Uncle. “But with Kathedra out of the castle, I no longer had to endure your taunts, your threats. I could act unimpeded and wait for the right moment to take my revenge. I watched you order my mother's death, I watched her dragged in chains to the site of execution, I watched...” He paused, choked down the grief that strangled his words. “I watched, restrained by your guards, as your executioner's blade cleaved through her neck.” .

  I let the tears flow down my cheeks, distraught to see Valleri in such anguish. In his temper, he hurled his sword across the room and threw himself to his knees, burying his face in his hands as he wept.

  So. This was the madness. This was what had driven him to treachery and murder and vengeance: rage and grief bottled up inside a little boy for nearly fifteen years. I could not imagine the horror that child had witnessed, the pain he'd staunchly borne for so long, in addition to the knowledge he was to blame.

  The urge to comfort Val was fierce, but I dared not approach him. He was too angry, too unpredictable, and in that moment I feared him. At last, he lowered
his hands, and a strange expression crossed his features, something like repletion. Without warning he sprang, a howl tearing itself from his throat. I saw the flash of steel, heard the song of it splice the air. But it all happened so fast I could not move to stop it in time.

  Uncle let out a grunt of surprise as the dagger plunged into his shoulder, deflected there by my lunge. “Valleri, please! Don't kill him. I know the truth. I know the truth about you ... and I don't care."

  Valleri looked at me across Uncle's body, his hand still on the blade, red with the blood of my family. “And what truth is that?"

  "That you're Teki, too, just like me. That you were the one in Idyll, who discharged the spell that collided with Mauranna's. Of course you were just a child, untrained, untaught—"

  "What?” He staggered onto his feet, swaying over Uncle where he groaned on the floor. “What in Heaven's name are you saying?"

  "I'm saying that I know your terrible secret, and it doesn't matter. I am not my uncle. I won't hold you responsible for something you did as a child, for something that was beyond your control."

  "Who told you that?” He seemed perplexed, and a little angry.

  "No one told me, exactly. I figured it out.” I rose, seized his tunic in my hands and ripped it away, exposing the eagle wing tattoo etched onto his skin. “See, Val? I know."

  He stared at me incredulous, arms splayed at his sides.

  "Shall I leave you two alone?"

  I whirled at the sound of Ginger's voice. Having come upon me unawares yet again, the mage stood in the tunnel's entrance, an armed contingent of Crusaders behind him. His timing couldn't have been more fortuitous. Perhaps now the two of them could sift free the pains of the past and put them all to rest.

  "Ginger, tell him. Tell him I know that he's Teki. That I figured it out that night in Idyll.” I pointed to the tattoo. “It's an amulet to arrest his powers, just like my tonic, just like that ring. Am I right?"

  "Hmm, no. I don't think so. It looks to me like an allegiance badge of the Gryphon Royal House. We've seen it on other Royalists.” He looked at me, amusement and maybe a hint of pity in his expression. “I don't know what you gleaned from our conversation that night, but I did not mean to imply Valleri was Teki because ... well, he's not.” Then he fixed his gaze on the man in question. “Are you?"

  "You know very well I'm not, you bastard."

  How could I have got it so wrong?

  Sensing my confusion, Val said, “You're not totally wrong, Kathedra. You just don't have the right person."

  I looked at Ginger. He shook his head.

  Then who?

  At my feet, struggling to sit, Uncle burbled, “Will someone please tell me what the hell is going on?"

  "I'll tell you what's going on Bertrand,” Valleri hissed, bending near. “That day in Idyll, when my mother cast her harmless hearth spell, another spell, one from a Teki just like your beloved niece, cast one of his own. It spun out of control, collided with Mauranna's and ignited chaos. Your son died on the end of a knife wielded by his own hand, or should I say, his own misbegotten spell."

  Shock filled the room, mainly from Uncle and me. Ginger, of course, knew the truth, always had. Valleri pushed Uncle back to the floor, ignoring the pain and sorrow pooling in those eyes. “Yes, Bertrand. Your own son, a fledgling Teki, ignorant of the power, indifferent to the danger, is the source of all that's wrong in Thylana today. And my mother, innocent of all blame, died at your behest."

  Uncle babbled, sputtered, overcome with an all-consuming horror. “No. You're lying. How dare you slander my son's name, my dead son's name!"

  "I'm not lying. Ivor was Teki. Just like his cousin, Kathedra."

  "How can that be?” I whispered.

  "Your father was Teki, as you are well aware. But your mother carried the same blood, so too did Bertrand. If you trace if back far enough you'd find Teki mages in the royal family tree. You know that's true, Bertrand. I can see it in your face."

  "Ivor would have told me,” Uncle insisted.

  Valleri snorted. “He didn't tell you because he knew how you'd react, with ignorance and outrage, just as you have now."

  "Why didn't you say something?” I asked, incredulous.

  "To who? Who would have listened to me, a boy of eleven, desperate enough maybe to say anything to save his mother's life, and after she had begged me the morning of her execution to say nothing, to preserve the love that Bertrand bore his son?"

  He crooked his head at Ginger, standing mute with downcast eyes. “Or would someone have instead listened to him, a novice Umagi himself, even if he had not been freshly plucked, delirious and near death, from a raging inferno?"

  The full horror dawned on me then, how in jumping to conclusions, both Uncle and I had gotten it all so very wrong.

  Valleri reached for his sword, where it lay a hand span away, and rose smoothly to his feet, pointing it at Ginger. “And you. You are as much at fault. You, along with Ivor, who spent that whole summer messing around with powers far beyond your comprehension, too proud to ask for tutelage, too foolish to realize the dangers. Look what your arrogance has done. It cost my mother her life, and the lives of hundreds, no ... thousands, thanks to one man's insufferable grief and unremitting hate."

  "I know what I have done,” Ginger replied, unflinching. “I am reminded every time I see my face reflected back at me. I know what it is to hurt, Val, to lose someone you love. All I can say is I'm sorry. I'm sorry about Mauranna, about Ivor, about everything. But you can't go about exacting your revenge indiscriminately as Bertrand has. You need to go back to Idyll, without your sword this time, confront your ghosts, visit your mother's grave, make your peace with Ivor. You know he didn't do it on purpose."

  "Oh, you'd like me to go to Idyll, wouldn't you?” Valleri spat. “Then you could have Kathedra all to yourself."

  "This has nothing to do with Kathedra."

  "Stop!” Uncle bellowed in a surprisingly strong voice.

  We fell silent, turning to look at him as he tottered onto his legs, his hands clapped to his ears. “I won't listen to any more of these lies!” he ranted. “I won't! I'll throw you all in the dungeons and cut out your treacherous tongues before I let you—"

  He stopped there in mid-rant, clutching not his wound but his chest, as if in pain. Though his mouth worked, no sound came out. He took a few staggering steps, one arm extended towards me. I went to his side, tried to steady him, but he slipped from my grasp and fell forward onto the cold marble. I felt for a pulse, searched for a sign of breath in him, a sign of life, but there was nothing. I looked up, said, “He's dead."

  Valleri had slain him with the truth as surely as if he'd run his blade through his heart.

  But not even the death of the tyrant Bertrand could divert Ginger and Valleri from their present course. They resumed their argument as if the Regent of Thylana had not collapsed dead before their eyes. “Tell him to go,” Valleri hissed at me. “I promise to spare his life if he leaves now."

  I stepped between Val and his intended target. “Valleri, put down the sword."

  An answering reply in steel came from behind as Ginger drew his own blade. “Stand aside, Kathedra. I am eager to see just how good a swordsman he thinks he is."

  "Are you mad?” I gasped. “Are you both eleven years old again? If you think I'll let the two of you resume your boyhood rivalries while Uncle lies dead on the floor you are out of your mind."

  I might have spoken a foreign language for all the response I received. They came together in a clash of steel and wills. Only quick reflexes on Naren's part saved me from harm's path.

  They were determined to disobey me. Damn them both. While they claimed there could be no truce between them, they had, nevertheless, united in defiance against me.

  Pondering my choices, I watched the two combatants as they circled and lunged, gauging each other's mettle, seeking a weakness. A calculated pounce here, a prudent withdrawal there. Neither wore armour nor mail, stri
pped down to shirts and breeches. Only blood would satisfy the victor. Each blow was precise yet parried with ease, the next coming harder, faster. Thus they sparred, neither man giving nor gaining ground.

  Briefly I considered letting the two of them wear themselves out, since as swordsmen they were about evenly matched. Physically Ginger was exhausted, his struggle with the teleportal having sapped his strength. As for Valleri, he was in no emotional condition to fight. Anger had drained his patience, and whittled away his concentration. If one of them came to any harm at the hands of the other, I would never forgive myself.

  I wrenched away my arm, suppressing the urge to conjure a baby cyclone and whisk Naren away in a human whirlwind.

  "Stop it,” I spat through gritted teeth. “I command here. I say who stays and who goes. You do not possess the privilege of deciding that for yourselves. The Regent Bertrand lies dead and by the law of royal succession I claim his throne. As your queen, I order you to cease this folly and throw down your weapons."

  Valleri let loose a savage volley of blows, which Ginger deflected with skill, taking time out to snarl,"I warned you, Kathedra. I warned you not to interfere. But you did, and now you must accept the consequences."

  Taking advantage of his foe's distraction, Valleri pounced, his sword flashing up for the mage's throat. Ginger swerved, the tip of Val's blade drawing a rivulet of blood from his brow. Ginger recovered in time to block a forceful two-handed swing, and with tremendous effort thrust Valleri off.

  Blade hammered into blade, the discordant notes of steel driving through me with every blow struck. For the sake of my own sanity, I could not let this continue. I recalled the teleportal far below us in the bowels of the keep, bound by its shackles of air, and a similar thought occurred. I called forth power, supple and sinewy, eager to do my bidding. A pair of chains formed out of lightness, forged fast with the strength of will.

  Lightening quick the chains struck, lashing out like phantom vipers. The first seized upon Valleri, snaking around his sword arm down to his wrist. He stared at his imprisoned hand, amazement and outrage warring in his expression, and fought in vain to wrest himself free. He was strong, fortified by thoughts of revenge and fury, but in terms of power, they seemed frail and brittle beneath the intensity of my will. I sent forth tendrils of thought, each stronger than the one before it, until Valleri was on his knees, striving to break bonds that were indestructible. At last, the sword clattered to the stones, and Valleri collapsed from the exertion.