A Pride of Gryphons

by Kristen S. Walker

  When they were finished with their flight and had brushed down the marewings, Galenos told Korinna to change and head to City Hall without him. “My first appointment is here,” he said, nodding to the Storm Petrel offices. Now that he had some idea of the government budget, he had to talk to Varranor about the company’s numbers before he recruited too many new fighters in the summer. “I will join you later.”

  She turned eagerly toward the offices. “Your brother is here?” She looked around the marewing paddock and smiled when she spotted Skyfire grazing nearby. She reached out and grabbed his arm. “I’ll go with you. I’d love to catch up with him and find out how the company is doing.”

  He smiled and patted her hand, but shook his head. “I’m afraid that we have more serious issues to discuss.” He decided to describe it in vague terms so she wouldn’t have any reason to want to go. “He’s still coming to me for advice about how to run the company. It’s going to be very boring, very technical, about arranging personnel rosters and supply lines for the troops.” He searched around for an idea to distract her, then remembered yesterday’s meeting. “Besides, you had that brilliant idea about seizing property from the disgraced Councilors, and we need to draft a proposal for the motion to show the legal team before the trial. Why don’t you take a first pass at that?”

  Her eyes lit up with interest, but she still hesitated. “I can handle the proposal,” she said quickly, “but it’s so rare that we get to see Varranor anymore. Are you sure that I can’t come see him just for a little while?”

  Galenos wanted to deal with his brother alone if he had to give him bad news, and he knew that if Korinna started talking with him and asking about all of her friends from training with the Storm Petrels, his morning schedule would be derailed. “I’ll invite him to supper,” he offered a compromise. “He’ll have more time to visit once the business is all taken care of.”

  Korinna smiled. “That sounds like a wonderful idea. I’ll send a message home so Egina knows to make something special for our guest.” She stretched up on her tiptoes and kissed him good-bye. “I’ll see you at City Hall, then.”

  Galenos bid her farewell, and once he was sure that she was on her way, he turned and strode toward the main building of the military compound. He’d taken his old rank insignia off of his uniform when he retired from command, but all of the soldiers he passed recognized him and stopped to salute. He saluted back, but didn’t slow down on his way to the commander’s office.

  He was on time to the meeting, but his brother’s clerk made him wait outside as he went to tell Varranor that Galenos had arrived. Galenos recognized his brother’s attempt at a power move. His younger brother liked to posture.

  When he was inside, he saw that Varranor had also taken time to redecorate his old office. Galenos had favored a utilitarian style with simple furniture and nothing extraneous. Now the walls were filled with weapons designed more for display than actual combat, the table in the middle was covered with tactical maps even though there had been no fighting in months, and there was an ornately carved desk and chair to one side.

  Varranor stood up from behind the desk and crossed the room to meet him. “Welcome, Duke Galenos,” he said in a formal tone, but his lips curved up at the corners in the ghost of a smirk. He gestured to another chair. “Please, sit down. May I offer you some refreshment?”

  Galenos shook his head and waved away the clerk who was hovering nearby. He ignored the chair and walked to the table instead, where he realized that the tactical maps showed the neighboring city-state of Sympaia. “Well, this is interesting,” he said, leafing through the sheets. “Are you planning a pleasure trip to the south, perhaps?”

  Varranor came to stand beside him with his hands behind his back and his head up as if he were at attention. “I actually have a proposal for you, Your Grace. My spies have detected potential weaknesses in Sympaia’s defenses. With careful planning, we could take the majority of their land in a precision strike and perhaps even force the capital to surrender without a prolonged siege.” He gestured to a stack of reports. “My officers estimate it could be very quick, with a minimal loss of life, just like when we took Mezzarion.”

  Galenos was angry at his brother for even suggesting the attack, but he was careful to keep his outward appearance calm. He frowned as if the idea puzzled him. “It’s an interesting theory, but why would we attack Sympaia? We just won the battle for this city.”

  “Why wouldn’t we attack them?” Varranor snapped back, his voice rising. He gripped the edge of the table and leaned forward, glaring at the map of Sympaia as if he saw its duke, Kleon, before him. “They attacked us first, using spies in our own council and threatening our border when we were vulnerable. Kleon’s saying that you have no right to rule and refusing any trade agreements with Kyratia. It’s probably only a matter of time before they attack us, so we should strike first. If you want any of the other rulers of Seirenia to take you seriously, you have to show your strength.”

  Galenos rubbed his chin and made a humming noise as if he were considering the possibility. “Well, I’m just not sure if I have the money for such a campaign. I thought this meeting was about summer recruitment, and I don’t know if we can even afford that.”

  Varranor’s rising anger exploded. “No money!” He whirled away and struck a vase sitting on his desk, causing it to hit the wall and shatter into a dozen pieces. “You sound like the last council, trying to slash our budget and cut down our numbers! I thought we would be a team, you with the purse strings and me with the soldiers—do you realize how strong we could be?” He turned back and pulled out another map, this one showing the entire peninsula of Seirenia. “Sympaia is only the beginning. We could conquer the entire north!”

  Galenos’s eyes widened in surprise despite himself. He hadn’t expected Varranor to try to reach so far. Still, he kept up the pretense of being confused. “What would I do with all those cities? You don’t know how much work I already have to deal with right now, ruling just two.”

  “What kind of cowardly blather is this?” Varranor burst out. He pounded his fist into the table. “The late duke only thought small, taking back little bits of land here and there because they used to belong to Kyratia. He never thought beyond those historical borders, but you know what we could actually be capable of.” He gestured to the map again. “Look how far we’ve come in a decade, from nothing to a duchy of our own. Why would we just stop here?”

  Galenos’s eyes narrowed. Now that Varranor had revealed his full plan, there was no need to pretend that he was considering any of it. “Peace.” He folded his arms and stared down his brother. “You and I have both seen that war has not just a monetary cost, but a human one as well. All I’ve wanted, since we started this bloody business, was the chance to create lasting peace.”

  He saw his brother open his mouth to protest, but he cut him off with a gesture and pointed to the map. “If I start with Sympaia, the other cities will join to rise against us, and it will only get harder from there. If I build an empire here in the north, then I’m a threat to the Holy Empire of Damia in the south, and they’ll attack us next. The bigger my land gets, the more enemies I have, and I will never be done fighting. And I don’t want to create any more destruction than I’ve already faced.”

  Varranor gaped for a long moment, then shook his head. “I guess our work means nothing to you now that you have a pretty young wife and a fancy house?” He scoffed bitterly. “Well, if you don’t want to fight, then you don’t need me. Release the Storm Petrels from our contract and I will find someone else to hire us.”

  Galenos put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “Look at me. I do still need you to defend what we’ve already won. I was coming to tell you that we may have more room in the budget than we thought, so you’ll be able to rebuild the company’s numbers this summer instead of putting it off.” He sighed. “If you’re right that Sympaia is likely to attack us, we’ll need the troops at full strength.”
<
br />   Varranor pushed his hand away. “Oh, so I can replace the fighters we lost to death and retirement in the last year? How generous,” he said with a sarcastic laugh. “Do you realize that with all of the grand tales of your heroics in ‘liberating’ this city, the Storm Petrels are enjoying the best reputation we’ve had in years? With so much interest, we could easily double our troops.”

  “That would look too much like a threat.” Galenos pulled out a slip of paper from his pocket where he’d written down a figure. “This isn’t finalized yet, but this will be my proposal for your company’s fee for the coming year. It will cover the normal expenses, the new recruits—and if there’s such a high demand, you can have your pick of the best, at least—plus bonuses for all those who were injured in the battles of last year. I want to make sure everyone who helped me is taken care of.”

  Varranor barely glanced at the number before he stuffed it into his pocket. “I should have seen this coming. You were always the first to back down if you didn’t have to fight.” He sank into the chair behind his desk. “So nothing’s changed, really. You’ve given me command of the company in name, but you’re still the one who makes all of the decisions.” He looked up at Galenos, anger draining away from his face to be replaced by disappointment. His voice rose like a child’s. “Will your plans ever include anything for me besides acting as your shadow?”

  Galenos let his eyes wander around the office instead of meeting his brother’s accusing gaze. “I don’t know what you want from me,” he said bluntly. “You wanted to command your own company, so I gave you mine. I’m trying to give you the money to run that company comfortably, but I won’t fund a reckless campaign so you can win glory or whatever you think you deserve.” He let his gaze drop to the maps. “If you want something else, like a nice home to retire or something of your own to rule, I already have enough land that I could find something for you.”

  “You’d buy me off with a lordship?” Varranor sneered. He threw his hands up in the air. “My own fancy house and pretty wife to go with it, I bet. Except I remember something that you don’t—so long as my marewing is alive, I’m still a rider.” He jerked his thumb at himself and lifted his head proudly. “I’m not ashamed to be a soldier. It’s not what our father wanted for us, but we chose this life and we got damn good at it. I won’t go soft like you did.”

  Galenos shook his head sadly. “Being a good soldier shouldn’t make you long for war.” He crossed the room and leaned over the desk. “Our father was good at fighting, too, and all he wanted was peace. It’s his dream that I’m still trying to achieve—and I thought my brother would help me.”

  Varranor went silent at the rebuke, wilting under Galenos’s stare. At last he dropped his gaze and looked at the floor. “I’ve always tried to help you and you’ve never let me down. If you say you’ll still have a place for me in your peace, I guess I can wait to see how that will pan out.”

  The duke nodded once and straightened up, his stare softening again. “Thank you. I trust you to do the right thing.” He didn’t need to mention how many times Varranor had let him down before. He paused, then added, “Korinna wants to see you if you have the time. You could stop by the house for supper tonight—it would make her happy.”

  The warlord looked up with an amused smile. “I’m sure she hasn’t forgotten that I saw her potential before you did. For the sake of her friendship, I’ll accept your invitation.” He tilted his head to one side. “Do you let her make decisions for ruling the city, or is it all you?”

  Galenos cleared his throat and glanced away. “You forget how much younger she is,” he said pointedly. “She has ideas, and I let her take on as much as she can handle, but she’s still learning.”

  He said farewell to his brother and left because he had more meetings waiting for him in City Hall. He didn’t want to be in control of everything himself, but he was forced into it by circumstance. Varranor couldn’t see past his own jealousy. He’d always tried to treat his brother as an equal, but Varranor was too impulsive and made mistakes that Galenos had to clean up, so he’d learned to limit his brother’s freedom.

  ***

  The trial for the Cult of Varula was a public affair because Galenos wanted everyone to know what had happened. He’d delayed the date until the end of the year, when pilgrims and traders filled the city before the New Year’s festival, so the trial would draw the largest crowd of people, not only those who lived in the city but also the rest of the state. That meant the event wouldn’t fit in the Council’s normal meeting room at City Hall or in the courthouse. They set up a dais before the City Hall’s front steps and used the entire courtyard of the Government District for the audience.

  Some had questioned the need for a public trial when the traitors’ guilt was obvious. Why hadn’t Galenos just executed Pelagia and the other conspirators when they took back control of the city? But he wanted to be seen as a fair ruler, who took time to consider the evidence instead of a mercenary who slaughtered his enemies without a thought, and he wanted to make an example of them. The people had to know how dangerous the cult’s ideas were, how much destruction had been caused when they attempted to control wyld magic, so no one would think to try it again.

  Since it was the biggest public appearance of the duke and duchess yet, every detail had been carefully planned. There were no decorations to imply a festive atmosphere, but several food vendors were paid to distribute refreshments to the crowd. All of the council members were present on the dais, to show a united front and so people could learn the faces of those newly appointed. Galenos and Korinna sat among them like equals, dressed in somber clothing, muted blues and whites like the colors of Kyratia’s flag.

  The trial was set for noon, but people had started arriving shortly after dawn to claim spots, and by the appointed time, the courtyard was full to bursting with more spread into nearby streets. City guards were posted all around to keep a watchful eye.

  When the last noon bell died off, Diokles rose first from his chair. “The Council of Kyratia calls this trial to order,” he said, and a hush fell over the crowd so his weak voice could carry across the square. “We shall hear a description of the crimes committed by this city’s former council and the Cult of Varula. Then we will pass judgment.”

  The Councilor sat back down and a herald came forward with a list of names. “The accused include Varula Soma, the head priest of the Temple of Varula; Pelagia Rotinon, representative of the Merchants Guild; Eutychon Drakon, representative of the Merchants Guild…”

  When the surviving conspirators were named, guards led them forward in chains to stand on the edge of the dais. Boos and jeers rose from the crowd but were quickly hushed.

  The herald cleared his throat and continued reading. “They stand accused of the following crimes: conspiracy to assassinate Duke Basileos, usurping control of Kyratia in place of Basileos’s chosen heir, smuggling dangerous monsters into the city limits which decimated buildings and killed many innocent citizens…”

  Diokles did most of the speaking at the trial because he had been on the Council and personally witnessed many of the events as they happened, including those that happened after Galenos and the Storm Petrels were banished from the capital. Other witnesses included Mage Ameyron, who had treated many victims of choreomania, the dancing madness caused by the crystalbell bugs unleashed by the traitors to kill Basileos; Father Loranos, the head priest of the Temple of Deyos, who preached against the blasphemy of using wyld magic; and in an important coup, the man who had been hired by Pelagia to smuggle the crystalbell bugs into the city.

  For months, the problem of the crystalbell bugs had bothered Mage Ameyron, because Kyratia’s capital was built on magestone, a special substance that was supposed to repel all types of wyld magic from entering the city. But then the smuggler, a trader named Eryalos, had come forward and admitted his crime out of guilt when he saw how many people had died due to the choreomania. Galenos had promised him a milder sentence in e
xchange for his testimony about he’d done it.

  Eryalos was sweating nervously and wiping his forehead when he was called on to testify. Unlike the other accused, he wasn’t shackled, but a guard hovered at his elbow—partially for his own protection, because more taunts rose up from the crowd at his appearance.

  “I’m so sorry,” he began, licking his lips. “I had nothin’ against the old duke myself, but when your guild asks you to bring something into the city, and you need the money for your family, you don’t have much choice.” He ducked his head and wiped his face again. “I didn’t know it would kill so many people. I am so, so sorry.”

  Diokles, who was leading the questioning, smiled sympathetically at the smuggler. “You’re doing the right thing now to tell us about it,” he said loudly, turning his head to send a quelling look in the crowd. “Please, tell us how you brought the bugs.”

  Eryalos pointed to Pelagia. “She said the Council had these special charms they gave out to let monsters in.” He gestured as if trying to show the shape of the charm. “The Temple of Varula made them, she said, so wyld magic could come into the city despite the magestone. I put the bugs in the vase with the charm and I boxed it all up, see, so they couldn’t get out, and I took it to the duke’s house as a gift. They were supposed to die—they only breed in these caves in the mountains, says the man who sold ‘em to me, so they infect a few people where you release ‘em but then they die out.” He covered his face with his hands. “I don’t know why they bred so fast.”