They broke off their attack two wingbeats in front of her, curving to each side. Rising above the lapping waves, the female flew out to a rock at the foot of a nearby cliff and perched. The male stalled with his wings and came down, scant yards away from Daine. He cocked his head, predator’s eyes glittering down at her, and waited. Sitting on his haunches, he was as tall at the shoulder as Numair; each of his claws as large as a small sword. His body was that of a giant, feathered cat, blending harmoniously into the head, beak, and wings of an eagle. His eyes spoke of a nature that was alien to hers, but intelligent. His voice in her mind was deafening.
“It’s all right to put down the weapons?” Numair asked.
The griffin—it had to be a griffin—nodded regally.
The mage’s eyes lit with wonder. “You can understand me?”
The great haunches rippled.
“A little, he says,” Daine translated. “It’s ideas he gets, like ‘weapons’ and ‘safety.’”
“Thank you,” Numair told the griffin. He went to the Riders as Daine examined the two creatures. The female was gray silver in color, her mate brown threaded in gold. Both gleamed and shimmered in the dying light of the sun. In her magical vision, they blazed copper.
“I don’t suppose you could tone down your voice? No,” she said when the griffin looked at her arrogantly.
Footsteps crunched in the sand. Alanna came up on Darkmoon, shield on her arm, bared sword in hand. The great horse stopped a few feet away, his sides streaked with sweat. Daine knew the knight had brought him so close to a creature that scared him witless because she would need the advantage of Darkmoon’s height if the griffin attacked; but she wished Alanna had tried for less advantage and the horse’s peace of mind. She went to the stallion and stroked his muzzle, assuring him he was safe. He believed her—barely.
“Ask him where the village is,” Alanna told Daine, her voice hard.
The great head cocked, and the griffin examined the knight. Daine swallowed as the chiming in her head broke into a handful of notes. “What?” she whispered. “Please, sir, I’m very new at this. You have to—” He chimed again, impatient. From the fire that was his presence in her mind, she picked out an image: Alanna’s shield. She shook her head, and the griffin repeated the question/image. “Lioness, I—I think he wants you to explain the device on your shield. He won’t talk about anything else till you do.”
The woman’s eyes were hard jewels in the light. “It’s a lioness, my own sign. A female lion.”
The male stretched his wings, and settled. Could you speak more gently? Daine asked him. Your voice hurts—I feel your answers in my bones. It makes translation difficult.
Pressure—a broad hand—settled at the nape of her neck. Suddenly she was inside a circle of light, shielded from the worst noise of the griffin’s speech. “Calm down,” Numair said gently. “Relax. I’m shielding you. Take a deep breath—good girl. You can manage this—just go easily.”
She ordered her mind, sorting out what was griffin and what came from other animals. Focusing on the griffin, she reached more directly into his mind until each ringing note became a symbol or an idea. Once she could manage what her mind heard, Numair carefully freed her from his shield. Now she had control of the translation.
The griffin spoke again.
“He says there’re too many griffins held captive on human shields,” Daine told Alanna. “That’s why they attacked the village—no, ‘attack’ isn’t right. They flew over, like they did with us, to warn the people not to raid the nest and steal the little ones for shields. They’re nesting atop that large spire of rock.” She pointed to where the female sat at its base.
“How many villagers did they kill in this ‘warning’?” Alanna wanted to know. “And Daine, you’d best not lie to protect them.”
She listened to something the griffin was telling her. “I couldn’t lie if I wanted to, Lioness. He won’t let us.” His correction boomed in her mind, and she sighed. “That’s not right. Lies can’t be told near a griffin. He’s surprised we didn’t know. That’s why they were captured for shields.”
“There haven’t been griffins here in centuries,” Numair put in. “We’ve forgotten the lore. Does he know how long it’s been since they were seen in human lands?”
Daine struggled with the answer. “He—sorry, Numair—he doesn’t know what you mean. I think he doesn’t understand time as we use it. He does say they killed no one. The villagers screamed a lot, then they ran. They’re at a great stone house about a day’s ride down the coast.”
“Pirate’s Swoop,” Alanna said, relaxing. “That’s easy enough to check. Is it true, about lying around them, Numair?”
“I’d heard it. You could try.”
Alanna opened her mouth—and no sound came out. Her throat worked, but nothing happened. At last she smiled. “I can’t.”
“How do they live?” Thayet came to stand with them. “What do they eat?”
That at least was easy to understand. “Fish,” Daine said. “Dolphins if they can get them, seals, sea lions—but mostly fish. He says there’re big ones in the open ocean.”
“No cattle? No sheep or pigs?” the queen wanted to know.
Another easy one. “No, mum. They think grass-eaters taste nasty.”
The queen hooked her hands in her sword belt, thinking. “Will he agree to let the villagers come back and not harass them?”
The griffin’s reply was emphatic.
“Ouch! As long as they keep away from their nest, he doesn’t care what people do.” Daine smiled weakly at the queen. “Their voices—our voices—discomfort their ears. They don’t want to come any closer to us than they must, to protect the little ones.”
Alanna sighed, leaning on the pommel of her saddle. “It’d be a shame to destroy such magnificence,” she said, admiring the great creatures.
The griffin preened his chest feathers and stood a little straighter.
Thayet laughed. “All right. I’ll talk to the locals when we see them. Tell your friend we will fight them if they harm a human or any livestock.”
The griffin’s reply was so loud that Daine’s temples throbbed. “He says don’t insult him by calling me his friend. His kind has better things to do than associate with humans.” She knew she was blushing. “He says at least my voice doesn’t hurt his ears.”
Alanna saluted the griffin with her sword. “Your point is taken, sir. Return to your nest, and we won’t inflict our voices on you again.”
Opening his beak, the male loosed a great, ringing cry. Before the echoes had faded he and his mate were in the air, spiraling up to their nest.
The humans made camp in the village square. Once the trainees were busy, the officers and Numair took Daine aside. “You shouldn’t have turned our mounts against us.” Thayet’s green hazel eyes were serious.
She gulped. “I didn’t—honest. They did it without me asking. If you don’t believe me, maybe we could bring the griffins back—”
“No,” Alanna said firmly. “We just got the ponies calmed down.”
The queen pursed her lips. “You had best study control, mistress,” she warned Daine. “If we can’t trust our mounts, we’re in trouble.”
“There’s only so much she can do,” Numair put in. “This is wild magic, Your Majesty—not the Gift. She can’t help animals knowing her feelings any more than she can help breathing. I’ve tested her control. It’s as good as she can make it. Wild magic is unpredictable—thus the name.”
Onua slung an arm around Daine’s shoulders. “It’s got to be harder on her than on us, Majesty. She’s a good girl.”
Daine bit her lip, glad she had friends—human ones, not just animals.
Thayet rubbed her neck. “I’ll be so glad when we reach Pirate’s Swoop,” she said. “A hot bath and a night’s sleep in a bed, and I’ll be a new woman.” She smiled at Daine. “I’m not going to bite you, youngster. I’m not even angry, not really. I will say this—riding with
you has been an eye-opener!”
“Welcome to the club,” muttered Numair.
“You know,” Alanna remarked, “I have a feeling, if the people come back, this is going to be a very honest village from now on.”
Onua said, “If so, a lot of husbands will be sleeping in the barn.”
In the morning the road swung away from the coast. Daine watched with disappointment as trees blocked her view of the sea. Her sadness grew when Numair left them after noon. He lived in a tower visible to the west; it would take him an extra three hours to reach it if he followed the Riders. He promised that he’d see her soon. She had to be content with that.
By midafternoon the trees thinned and vanished. The main road sloped downhill from there to pass a large, prosperous-looking village on the shore. The road they followed left the main one to approach a strong-looking fortress built around three towers, one much thicker than the others.
“Pirate’s Swoop,” Evin said. He had fallen back to keep Daine company. “You’ll like this place. I think you’ll like the baron too. He and my father have been friends for years. He’s—different.”
The gates ahead opened to reveal the baron’s—and Alanna’s—domain.
EIGHT
PIRATE’S SWOOP
They climbed a tall mound to enter the castle. Daine was impressed by the thickness of the walls around the outer court and by the alert and well-armed guardsmen. The baron of Pirate’s Swoop kept his home in fighting order.
A man in gold-trimmed brown ran up to Thayet, bowing repeatedly as he talked to her. The queen signaled Buri, and the second-in-command turned in her saddle. “Riders, this way!” She and Sarge led the trainees to long, low buildings along the wall: stables, by the look of one, and the guard barracks.
Onua came up beside Daine. “Wait here. I want them to stable their mounts so they can unload the cart.” She grinned. “A bit of advice, for what it’s worth. Never do anything you can order a recruit to do for you.”
Daine grinned. “I’ll remember that.” Movement caught her eye: a flag was being run up on one of the three towers. When the breeze caught it, she grinned: it was a gold lioness rampant on a red field, the same as Alanna’s shield. On the tower next to it was a brown flag decorated with a gold key.
“The baron’s flag,” Onua said, noticing the direction of her gaze. “Those flags mean the baron and the lady knight are both in residence.”
“No flag for the queen?” she asked.
Onua shuddered. “Gods, no! It’s bad enough the whole palace knows where the summer training camp is, without crying it from the towers. George has made this place strong, but why ask for trouble if you don’t need it?”
Grooms took Thayet’s and Alanna’s mounts as the women stretched. Suddenly shrieks filled the air. It took Daine a moment to realize the sound was not birds but children screaming, “Mama, Mama!” A pack of them dashed through the inner court’s gate and separated: three to Alanna, two to the queen. Thayet’s pair—both dark haired, a boy and a girl—bowed when they were a foot away from their mother, then threw themselves at her.
“The prince is nine, the princess eight,” Onua explained. “They asked to watch the training this year instead of staying with the younger children in the summer palace.”
Alanna’s three—the tallest a true redhead, the younger two blondes with a touch of red in their locks—didn’t even stop to bow. She laughed and knelt to return their hugs, disappearing for a moment under their bodies.
“You’d think they’d been brought up in a barn, wouldn’t you?” a lilting voice asked nearby. “Climbin’ on their ma like she was a hobbyhorse.” Daine looked down from her seat on the wagon. The speaker was a tall, broad-shouldered man with brown hair lightened by the sun. His nose was too big for good looks, but there was a wicked twinkle in his large, green hazel eyes, and his grin was catching. He wore a shirt and breeches, and had come from watching the sea, to judge from his tousled hair and the spyglass in his hand.
She had to return his smile. “They must love her very much.”
“She’s easy to love,” he replied.
“For you, maybe,” Onua said, dismounting. “I know threescore offenders against the king’s law who don’t find her at all lovable. Hello, Baron.”
“Onua, every time I see you, gods be my witness, you make me wish I wasn’t married.” They hugged vigorously, slapping each other on the back.
“You’d never pull in my harness, George. Daine, this gentleman—”
“Don’t call me ‘gentleman.’ I work for a livin’,” he interrupted. Daine grinned. Sarge often said the same thing.
“This nobleman is Baron George of Pirate’s Swoop. George, this is Daine, my assistant.”
A large hand was offered. Daine shook it. Like all the nobles she’d met in this strange country, his palm was callused. “Welcome to Pirate’s Swoop, Mistress Daine. How did you fall into such bad company?”
She blushed, not knowing how to take this charming man.
“Stop flirting with her, George—you’ll only break her heart.” Onua winked at Daine, who winked back, thankful for the rescue. “How long have the prince and the princess been here?”
“A week only,” the baron replied, taking his sharp eyes off Daine.
In a quieter tone, Onua asked, “Any trouble?” George’s eyes flicked to Daine. “You can trust her,” the K’mir assured him. “We all do.”
Daine blushed again when George raised his eyebrows. “That’s quite a recommendation, young lady. I didn’t think Onua even liked two-leggers.” Looking around, he said, “Bless me—so you did take on Evin Larse.”
Seeing them, Evin waved and loped over, his long legs taking him across the outer ward court in seconds. “George, I made it,” he said, panting as he offered his hand. “I told you I would. Wait till you hear about the trip we’ve had! Did you know you have griffins nesting up the coast?”
“I’ve got the whole village quartered here,” George said, making a face. “Eatin’-our food and beggin’ me to send soldiers after them. Tell me true—is it really griffins, or just a pair of mean albatrosses?”
“It’s griffins, and you don’t have to send a company,” Evin assured him. “Daine here got them to make peace.”
“I didn’t ‘get’ them to do anything,” Daine retorted. With the charming baron she might be tongue-tied, but never with Evin. “They don’t do anything they don’t want to. But they promised the queen not to attack people or livestock,” she told George. “And they can’t lie, so I believe them.”
“Wait,” he ordered. “You’ve had speech with them, and made a treaty—”
“This is a fine welcome you’ve given me, laddy-buck,” Alanna said, trying to imitate her husband’s speech as she approached. She bore a gold-haired child on each hip. “Here I am, home from the wars, and you let me be swarmed over by barbarians whilst you flirt with my friends.”
“Excuse me,” George said gravely to the adults, and to the children he plucked from his wife’s hold. Gripping the Lioness firmly, he bent her back in a prolonged kiss that looked like a romantic scene in a play. Everyone, even the men-at-arms posted along the walls, clapped, whistled, and cheered.
“Does anyone in this land act like they’re supposed to?” muttered Daine.
Onua heard her question. “They do in lots of places,” she said, eyes twinkling. “But this isn’t ‘lots of places,’ it’s Pirate’s Swoop. And if you think this is strange, just wait till you’ve been here a couple of days.”
Exploring after the evening meal in the castle’s great hall, Daine got directions to the observation deck on top of the third, largest tower. Here the wall rose out of stone cliffs. Looking down, she saw rocks, a thread of beach, and heavy waves. Relaxed, she watched the sun dip itself into the ocean as a cool breeze blew across her face. She liked the Swoop, she decided. If she had to live within stone walls all her days, this would be the kind of place she’d want.
“Beautiful, isn??
?t it?” The Lioness relaxed against the stone wall at Daine’s side. “I’m so glad to be home.”
You have a home to go to, the girl thought, and was immediately ashamed of herself. How could she begrudge the knight a place of her own? “I don’t see how you could ever leave this,” she admitted.
“I don’t, either, except I took an oath as a knight, then as champion, long before I came here. And I keep my oaths.”
They fell silent again. It’s odd to see her in a dress, Daine thought. Wearing perfume—it’s pretty, whatever it is—and pearl earbobs and silk. And yet she fits here. She sighed. I wish this were my place, she thought wistfully. I bet I could fit here too.
A distant cry fell upon her ears. She and Alanna looked north and saw a bird shape wheeling over the ocean. “Griffins,” the Lioness remarked. “It’s like a story, or a bard’s tale.”
So are lady knights, thought Dame, but she kept that to herself. “If only the griffins were all of it.”
They looked up. Only a handful of clouds were in the sky, but they knew there was a Stormwing behind one, and that more waited up and down the coast.
“My father is a scholar.” The woman’s voice was soft. “The king asked him to report on what he could learn about Stormwings. He says they live for destruction and the fear that destruction provides. They eat only the products of war, famine, and disease—the bodies of the dead. They drink only the energy of human suffering and fury. They’ve had a long fast—four hundred years’ worth, in the Divine Realms. I have the feeling they won’t be as easy to send back as they were to set free.”
“Send back?” Daine had a thought, and she didn’t like it. “If they had to be locked in the Divine Realms, maybe they were never supposed to be there. Maybe they’re our predators.”
“Our predators?”
“Surely.” She tugged one of her curls. “You speak of locking them up again as if it can be done. What if the gods don’t allow it, because the Stormwings are supposed to be here, not there?”
Alanna winced. “That’s a very cheerful thought. I wish you hadn’t come up with it. If you’re right, we have a lot of battles ahead.”