The Gryphon Highlord

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The Gryphon Highlord Page 5

by Connie Ward


  "Truly, Highness, you are too kind.” He grinned and drew me down to him, his fingers finding the laces of my tunic.

  But at that moment an idea occurred, and I wondered why I did not think of it sooner. “Valleri,” I breathed, drawing up his coarse, homespun shirt to expose his chest, “come with me."

  "Hmm?” he queried, taking no time to unfasten his mouth from my throat.

  "Come with me."

  His back stiffened beneath my hands, and disengaging his lips, he leaned his head against the floor to stare up at me with furrowed brow. “What?"

  "To Zigores. Oh, please, Val. I can't bear to be separated from you."

  I smiled a dreamy smile and bent to kiss the tattoo stamped just below his heart, acquired in his early days as a Halberdier, the existence of which I had only cause to discover recently. Of peculiar design, it depicted an eagle's widespread wings clutching in their talons a bloodied heart, wreathed in chains. For the life of me I don't understand why men choose to mar their bodies so, but Valleri tells me I should be flattered. According to him, the imagery symbolizes his bond of service to the house of Gryphon, and by extension me.

  "We shall live in exile together."

  Amazement flashed across his face. He pulled himself up so abruptly that I was forced to sit. “Kathedra, this is no romantic adventure you're undertaking. You're fleeing for your life."

  His sharpness startled me. “I know. I just want you with me. I need you, Val."

  "You need me here. Who else will look after your interests? Who else will protect your throne? Who else will be here to open the gate when you return? Who will if not I?"

  "Then you choose not to go with me?” My disappointment would not be disguised.

  "It's not that I don't want to go,” he clarified, gently smoothing the hair back from my cheek. “I wish with all my heart I could. But it's just not possible. Please understand. I can do you the most service here."

  I nodded, feeling somewhat sheepish. “I'm sorry, Val. What you say makes sense. I'm being selfish. I want you with me because I don't want to be alone. Because dragging you along would be easier than saying good-bye."

  Pulling me to him, he rested his chin upon my head. “I know, Kathedra. It is not easy for me either. But we must say farewell and I must leave. If we spend this night together, it will only be harder on us both. You might be tempted to stay and I might be tempted to go. Neither of which will do us any good."

  He was right, of course. We'd already had our last night together, its memory sweeter because we had spent it in blissful ignorance.

  Rising, Valleri tugged me to my feet and kissed my brow. “When I come for you, be ready.” Then taking his torch, he slipped into the tunnel, where its dark length soon swallowed him up.

  I closed the panel, replaced my teak and silk screen, then returned to the settee, certain that I'd never felt so alone.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  The day of my wedding dawned sunny and warm. Standing at the window I gazed east into the rising sun and plotted my course. A thousand acres of parkland surrounded Castle Gryphon. The main road from the keep led south, well out of my way. The greatest concentration of Crusaders, however, sat beyond the castle's boundaries, between the highway and the edge of the forest. They controlled the entire southeast from a secret location, which no Royalist had been able to unearth, to Uncle's chagrin.

  My most obvious route was to cross the park and head east, straight into the forest, the other side of which would deposit me in rich farmland, leagues away from Uncle and Crusaders both. With a little luck the light of a full moon would guide me. I could then continue on to my final destination, taking care to skirt roads and towns. The hardest part would be escaping the castle itself, which was beyond my control. I'd just have to trust that to Valleri.

  I was still in my robe when Grezalia arrived with my breakfast and tonic. She greeted me with her customary scowl, which I ignored. Miffed that her ugly mug had not cowed me, she sneered, “How is our blushing bride-to-be this morning?"

  I made no reply, wary of her scathing tongue. Instead I surveyed my bland meal and the tiny medicine bottle beside it. The vial, I noted, contained three doses. Ah. My conspirators had caught on. But what they did not know was that a mere three doses would lose their effect before the day was out. My powers would be fully restored by the time Valleri came to collect me.

  I poured the potion into my juice and gulped it down under Grezalia's arched brows. Then, poking at my eggs, I dismissed her with a wiggle of my pinkie.

  But upon her departure she paused at the door, turned and said with more cheer than any sane person could possibly muster at so early an hour, “Another vial will be brought with your supper."

  I damned near choked on my eggs and the shrew did not move an inch to save me. “But ... that will be six doses,” I sputtered. Four doses in one day gave me an excruciating headache. What would six do?

  "Your skill at arithmetic is astounding.” Her smirk stretched into an ear-to-ear grin.

  "I shall have to be held up at the altar!” I shouted.

  "That is the point, of course. His Excellency can't risk any disruption of the service. I do pity your poor bridegroom, however, for he may have to wait a day or two to consummate the marriage."

  "He'll wait a hell of a lot longer than that!” But I raved at a closed door.

  I spent the afternoon trying to rally my Teki powers, in vain. Desperate to find a solution, I wondered what advice my father might have for me. As an attentive, eager five-year old, I can still hear him saying, “Random thoughts lead to random words, Little Red. Therefore, if you can't think anything nice..."

  * * * *

  As promised, Grezalia delivered a second vial of tonic with my supper. She also brought a friend, the Halberdier captain, all rigged up in his dress uniform.

  "I don't recall inviting you to my wedding, sir.” A sarcastic jest. In truth, I hadn't invited anyone.

  He stiffened but otherwise gave no indication he heard. Although the captain and I are healthy rivals, there is no malice between us. I doubt it came easy for him to serve as my keeper. We have no squabble with each other. The captain minds his own business and doesn't involve himself in castle politics. His duty is to protect the Regent and that's what he does. But in doing his duty he uses it as an excuse to overlook unpleasant details, such as the brutish tendencies of his men and the inanity of Uncle's orders. I can fault him only for his lack of backbone. My cause would receive no sympathy from him.

  Grezalia tapped a large wooden spoon on the flat of her palm. I wondered what mayhem she intended with such a powerful weapon, and whether the captain perhaps carried a bloodthirsty whisk.

  "Drink up,” she ordered, indicating my cup of ... water?

  Ignoring the command, I lifted the lid of my bowl. “Broth and water?” Uncle not only wants me submissive, he wants me emaciated. “What kind of ‘last meal for the condemned’ is this?"

  "Cook has prepared a sumptuous feast to follow the ceremony. You may eat then, if you are able, with your guests.” Grezalia aimed her terrible weapon at the vial. “Drink it. I won't ask you a third time. The captain will."

  Having no choice but to comply, I poured the tonic into my cup and watched it turn the water a sickish green hue. But as I brought the goblet to my lips, I hesitated. Normally, my juice disguised the unpleasant odour and diluted the obnoxious taste, but water is ... well, merely water.

  I drank half the cup, and unable to finish it, lowered my hand. Quicker than a striking viper, Grezalia slammed her spoon onto the table, barely missing my fingers. “All of it!” she barked.

  I obeyed, but only after giving the woman my best withering glare. Gagging, I forced the rest of the foul liquid down my throat.

  "Now eat your broth. The seamstress will be here soon to dress you."

  I surveyed her dull, shapeless robes. “Shall I assume you won't be in attendance at this farce tonight?"

  She beamed a grin of triumph. “On
the contrary, a horde of sabre-toothed hobgoblins couldn't keep me away."

  Well, I guess not. They'd probably welcome her as family. “In that case, do dress appropriately for the occasion,” I harrumphed, dipping a spoon into my soup, “or I shall have you tossed out."

  Chuckling merrily to herself, she trotted out the door, the Halberdier captain trailing at her heels like a sullen puppy.

  * * * *

  By the time the head seamstress and her assistants arrived I felt like I'd drunk a keg of ale. Fortunately, I bypassed the headache and went straight to the nausea. As the women fussed and hovered over me, I warned them twice to fetch me a bucket. Twice they ignored me. Therefore I vomited all over my pretty petticoats, scattering my attendants like a flock of squawking geese.

  It did not take long for them, however, to regroup and resume my torture. Naturally they could not overlook this opportunity for gossip. While the head seamstress chided me at great length for ruining my veil, the girls speculated in low tones about my unexpected illness. I let them say and do what they would. It was pointless to protest even if I could, for a strong lethargy had come over me, sapping my will.

  Their evil work complete, my tormentors settled me on my settee and arranged my train about my slippers. Though they tried to make me sit like a lady, I could manage only a half-hearted sprawl. My head lolled over the backrest, prompting me to marvel aloud at the intricate network of cobwebs that adorned the ceiling.

  "Oh, my,” cooed one of the girls to her accomplices. “She looks so pale, so sick. Do you think she'll be all right?"

  Another chimed in, “She's fine. All she needs is a rest and some air."

  Then, “Poor, little dear. Do you suppose she's with child? Perhaps that's why she's being married so hastily to that snivelling whelp."

  "Maybe we should stay with her until the bridal party arrives."

  "No,” I croaked out, raising my head so quickly I saw stars. “Leave me. All of you."

  I must have sounded more menacing than I felt, for they fled the room without a backward glance.

  Left alone I discovered I was famished. I dragged myself upright and tottered to a cabinet, stomping like a great white pachyderm all over my lovely gown. There I retrieved the box of honeyed almonds Cook had given me as a wedding gift—the only one I'd received—smuggled up to me between a stack of fresh linens by the chambermaid. Prize in hand, I slunk back to the settee and stretched out. Then, hoisting my gown, I dangled my legs over an armrest and kicked off my slippers.

  Again the lethargy, the feeling that nothing mattered, settled over me. Forgetting what a mess of sticky honey can do to white satin, and forgetting Uncle, I devoured half the box before I dozed off.

  * * * *

  I awoke the instant the door cracked open. Grezalia poked her head around it and took a half step into the room. She wore a frilly pink gown with matching cape and slippers. She'd topped off her already ridiculous outfit with a floppy mauve hat. She looked for all the world like an exploding bouquet of petunias.

  Splayed upon my settee, I regarded her from behind drowsy lids. Beyond the door a contingent of guards stood at attention. Uncle wasn't taking the chance that I might bolt.

  "You've crumpled your gown,” she sniffed. “His Excellency won't be pleased.” Her nasty smirk appeared. I got the feeling Uncle's displeasure with me would give her great joy.

  "The bridal party will arrive soon. Do try to put on your slippers."

  "Hag,” I muttered, as the door slid shut behind her.

  When I was certain she'd gone, I slunk from my perch and slid the bar into place, then set about ripping the yards of satin and lace from my body, scattering a fortune in pearls all over the floor.

  Once extricated from the cumbersome garment, I fled to my bedroom where I'd readied my clothes the previous night. I had donned my breeches and just shrugged into a shirt when I heard my teak screen scrape across the floor and knew Valleri had arrived.

  "Kathedra,” came his hushed voice. “Where are you?"

  Struggling into my boots, I hopped around the corner to find Valleri staring at the torn remnants of my gown. “Here. Help me."

  He gaped in disbelief. “Why aren't you ready? The bridal party has already begun its procession."

  While I fought with laces and he strapped on my sword belt, I told him what had happened.

  "Fiends,” he growled. “I knew they might increase your regular dosage but I had no idea they'd try to incapacitate you. Are you all right?"

  "Yes, yes,” I muttered, fumbling with the clasp of my cloak. “But I can't summon my powers."

  A sudden rap on the door made us jump. Uncle's voice bore through the thick wood. “Kathedra, unbar the blasted door! Your groom awaits."

  When he received no reply Uncle began to pound on the door, sacrificing regal dignity. “Kathedra, I order you to present yourself at once!"

  "Hah!” I grabbed my pack stuffed with a change of clothes and food squirreled away from a week's worth of untouched suppers. “If you want me, you'll have to come in here and get me!"

  Indeed, the door started to quake with Uncle's fierce pummelling. Then the banging abruptly ceased and Uncle bellowed for a battering ram.

  Seizing my arm, Valleri whispered, “Come. It will hold until they bring the ram. They'll be awhile knocking it down but we must hurry."

  We slipped into the secret passageway. Valleri secured the panel behind us so it might provide us a head start, then snatched up the torch set in a wall bracket and led me down the tunnel.

  Not until we had turned a corner and the torchlight caught the flash of metal badges did I notice he wore formal attire. “You would actually attend my wedding?” I asked incredulously, my voice bouncing off the stone in eerie tune with our hurried footsteps.

  "I am your second,” he reminded me. “Bertrand ordered me to attend. I think he seeks to punish me for our indiscretion. After all, what could be more suitable punishment than forcing me to watch him give you to another man?"

  Touched, I started to spout some silly, sentimental drivel but Valleri silenced me with a gesture. We had reached the tunnel's end. Cautiously, he pushed open the small portal, concealed behind a row of barrels, in an alley near the granaries. We emerged into the darkened bailey, deserted save for the few lonely sentinels pacing the battlements. Except for the troops alert at their posts and the servants at work in the kitchens, everyone in Castle Gryphon awaited my arrival in the chapel, not yet aware of the mayhem I could well imagine was this minute erupting outside my tower apartment.

  Keeping to cover and taking care to avoid the guardroom, where Uncle's personal henchmen, ever vigilant, amused themselves with dice, we stole across the bailey toward the stables. Since all was controlled chaos here, with the arrival of so many extra horses and their attendants, we were able to sneak unnoticed into the rear of the building and to the stall housing my charger. While I quieted him with soothing words and slipped on his bridle, Valleri saddled him.

  Something warned me that stealing away in the dead of night on a white horse was not too darn intelligent. But when I questioned Valleri about it he shrugged off my apprehension in that blithe way he takes with everything. “Nonsense. He is the fleetest mount in Gryphon's stables."

  True, my charger was sure-footed and swift, but I'd never needed to escape pursuit before. I'd just have to take Valleri's word for it that speed was more important than stealth. Besides, we didn't have time to ready another horse.

  The moment of farewell had arrived.

  Embracing, we whispered our partings. “Come with me,” I begged one last time, loath to leave Valleri behind. “You can still change your mind."

  My plea held no sway. He stood stiff and erect, his face grim in the gloom of the stables. “Kathedra, you know I can't."

  "But if Uncle discovers you aided my escape—"

  Valleri hushed me with a kiss. “Don't worry about me. I can take care of myself."

  Heavy of heart I mounted, and ta
king the reins in one hand, leaned down in the saddle to touch his cheek. In doing so, I caught sight of something disturbing. “Val, is that blood in your hair? What happened? Are you hurt?"

  Stepping beyond reach, he snapped, “It's nothing. I cracked my head on a protrusion of rock in the tunnel when I came to fetch you. I'm fine. Now go. There's not much time."

  There were a thousand things I wanted to say but the words would not come. So I said only, “Thank you."

  Smiling, Valleri rested his hand on my leg and squeezed my knee. “Remember, Kathedra. No matter what happens, I will always love you."

  I believed him. Despite the aura of doom surrounding that statement, I believed him.

  He led the charger to the stable door, gave me a cocky salute and grin, then ducked out of sight.

  Prodding the horse into the bailey's shadows, I surveyed the gate. The portcullis remained up, politely accessing tardy guests, but a cluster of soldiers milled beneath the archway. I had only seconds to reach the gate.

  Strangely enough I felt calm, confident nothing could thwart my escape. I donned my helm and nudged the animal's flanks. We catapulted into the light.

  A cry from behind startled me nearly out of my seat. I hauled on the reins and the horse reared, alerting the guards who stood in the archway.

  "Drop the gate! Drop the gate!"

  Wheeling to face the speaker, I saw the Halberdier captain run from the castle proper as he shouted to his men.

  I heeled the stallion and he leapt forward, tearing at breakneck speed across the bailey. Initially I had hoped to take the guards by surprise and send them scattering, but now they were forewarned.

  "Drop the damned gate!"

  Spurred to action, the guards atop the battlements ran for the tower to engage the windlass. Meanwhile, the soldiers in the archway looked twice at my speeding charger and collected their wits. Some flew into the tower to help with the portcullis while others drew their swords and formed a line before the gate.

 

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