Windbreak: Gryphon Riders Book Three (Gryphon Riders Trilogy 3)

by Derek Alan Siddoway

  “The Juarag have a legend,” Chel said breaking the silence and surprising them all. She usually kept to herself, especially since the incident in the gorge. “Our shamans say that the Earth Father fell in love with Lady Night. He waited each day for the sun to rest, for the darkness to fall and the moon to rise. But no matter how hard he tried, he could never get the attention of Lady Night, for she was given to much mischief and trickery and toyed with his affections. After many years, Father Earth grew desperate for her love. In a last attempt to win over Lady Night, he scooped out the precious stones of the earth and flung them into the sky.”

  “What did she do?” Eva asked, pulling Tahl’s arm’s tighter around her as she reclined in his lap, listening to Chel’s story.

  “Lady Night was indeed pleased with the gift, but before she could confess her feelings, Grandfather Sun rose again in the east and chased her from the skies. She had waited too long. It is said when you see a star falling from the sky, that is Lady Night weeping, returning one of Fathers Earth’s precious stones to him, for she feels unworthy of such a great gift.”

  Sigrid snorted and rolled over but Eva saw Wynn stare up into the night, mouth open. “What a beautiful story,” the younger girl said in a hushed voice.

  Before Sigrid could come up with some snide retort, Eva looked at Ivan, who was sitting to her left. “Now that you’re dried off, how about a story, master Scrawl?” she said.

  Ivan sniffed. “Huh.”

  “Oh come on, Ivan,” Tahl said. “Don’t be that way!”

  “Fine, fine,” Ivan said. He thought for a moment and then a smile spread across his face. “There was once a golem —”

  “Oh, I like this one,” Seppo said, blue eyes shining across the fire.

  “— there was once a golem who picked on folk smaller than himself and threw them into rivers —”

  “Ivan!” they shouted in unison.

  The Scrawl held up his hands as Seppo began to rise. “Fine, fine. A real story. What do you want to hear about?”

  “A great battle,” Sigrid said.

  “A golem!” Seppo said.

  From outside the fire ring, Fury raised his head and let out a kree, signaling he wanted a tale about gryphons. The other gryphons added their calls to his.

  “How about a story that’ll put you noisy bunch to sleep?” Soot huffed, his doze interrupted by the sudden ruckus.

  Ivan tapped his finger on his tattooed chin for a long moment. “Alright, I’ve got one. This is the tale of Eleanor, the first Queen of the Windsworn,” he looked over at Fury. “And there’s gryphons in it, I promise.”

  “You mean the Queen of Rhylance?” Eva said. “The Windsworn don’t have a queen, they have a commander.”

  Ivan shook his head. “According to our records, in the first days the Sorondarans came to Altaris, their kings and queen ruled over both the people and the gryphon riders. It was only in the last few generations that the title was split.

  “Eleanor was the only surviving daughter of the King and Queen of Sorondar. Her mother was killed in the great plague that caused the Sorondarans to flee their homeland and sail east. Soon after she landed upon Altaris, her father passed away as well, overcome by grief. Forced to lead her people in a strange new land at a young age, Eleanor didn’t know what to do or where to turn to.

  “The Sorondarans made their camps on the beach for a time. Although there were little resources for shelter and they didn’t have much to eat, they feared a journey farther inland would be too hard on the gryphon eggs. None of the gryphons from Sorondar had been put on the ship, for the disease hit them even harder than it did the humans. The people hoped the eggs would hatch free of the sickness. There were less than two score in all, carefully tended all the way across the ocean.”

  “Did they make it?” Wynn asked, even more enamored with Ivan’s story than she had been with Chel’s.

  Sigrid tapped her on the back of the head. “Think about it! How else would there be gryphons if they hadn’t?”

  Wynn’s face flushed and she fell silent, allowing Ivan to continue.

  “As queen, Eleanor was the first to participate in the Choosing when the hatching time came. She carefully held each one, waiting for a sign that the egg was hatching, that the gryphon inside had chosen her. But each time, the egg remained still. At first, the Sorondarans feared the egg-chicks had not survived the journey, but behind the queen came others, and the eggs hatched for them.

  “As Eleanor passed from egg to egg and reached the last few, the Sorondarans began to mutter among themselves. How could they be led by a girl who was not chosen by the gryphons? The eggs continued to tick down, one by one, until Eleanor came to the last one.”

  Ivan paused and looked at Eva. “What color of egg do you suppose it was?”

  She’d never heard the story before but Eva had a pretty good idea what the answer was. “Red?”

  The Scrawl nodded. “It was the first blood egg — the only one of that line brought over across the ocean. Since then, the line of blood gryphons is a straight one, all the way down to Fury here.” He turned and gestured to Fury, who stretched his neck out and held his head high.

  “What about Eleanor?” Wynn asked. “What happened next?”

  “According to the legends, when her hatchling had grown large enough to carry her, she began to fly east, in search of a home for her people. They had lived along the coast for the first year and the winter hit them hard. Even with the help of the Scrawls, they did not fare well. Neither did the gryphons thrive in the coastland — they were made for mountains.

  “Flying east, it is said Eleanor caught sight of the Gyr just before sunset, the last light of the day illuminating the mighty mountain. She flew all night toward the mountain until morning came and revealed it once more. The stories say she landed on the Gyr’s peak and declared the Sorondarans and their gryphons would never have another home. There are many stories that followed, of how Eleanor settled the Rhylance valley for her people and led them through famine, storms and even civil war to lay the foundations for your people today. She also trained the first generation of new gryphon riders. Although she was young and felt unready to assume the throne, she overcame all odds to be known as one of the greatest rulers in the history of your people.”

  As he finished, Ivan looked Eva in the eyes and she glanced away while the others broke into applause. Wrapped in her thoughts, she hardly noticed when Ivan started singing a beautiful, haunting song about a Scrawl returning home to his beloved. Listening to the strange words washed away Eva’s anxiety and she looked around the fire, smiling. For the time being, at least, her loved ones were warm, happy and safe.

  This, she thought, this is what we’re fighting for.

  Chapter Twenty

  Days later, signs of the ancient Palantines appeared along the river: ancient, toppled buildings covered in vines, bits and pieces of roads blanketed with moss and grass, and patches of clearings overgrown by wildflowers — all that remained, Seppo said, of once-fertile farmlands. Although Soot warned them to stay on guard, it was impossible not to enjoy the fair weather in the woodlands.

  Not long past the feral farmlands, they spotted a small villa sitting atop a grass-covered knoll. The ruins stood watch above a stretch of overgrown fields divided by cracked and fallen stone fences. After flying ahead, Sigrid and Wynn reported the surrounding area devoid of Runefolk or animals. They met together at the top of the hill to survey the surrounding countryside with Seppo.

  “This is incredible!” Ivan said. His eyes flitted from one collapsed building to another. Many were two stories high, including what looked to have once been a granary, half of its dome caved in and leaning across the remnants of the building next to it. On the other end of town, a lone tower about three stories high still stood, the dilapidated roof revealing a large tarnished bell at the top. Before they could stop him, Ivan wandered off, poking his head from building to building.

  Eva noticed many of the buildin
gs, as rundown as they were, looked very similar to those in the older parts of Gryfonesse. When she pointed this out to Soot, he nodded.

  “Gryfonesse was built on top of an old Palantine city. Many of the buildings, including the citadel and parts of the outer walls, were just repaired, strengthened and expanded.”

  While they were talking, the others started exploring what was left of structures.

  “Not much left,” Tahl said, coming out of what looked like a small cottage. There’s a few rusted tools and things, but they’re far beyond use. Everything else has rotted away.”

  “We should keep moving,” Soot said, scanning the surrounding lands below the villa. “We’re too exposed up here — I don’t like it.”

  Eva followed his gaze. In many areas, the woods encroached on the old fields, providing plenty of cover for ambush. In the distance, a glint of silver marked the river, still winding its easy path east between hills and trees. She hadn’t realized how far they’d strayed from it until now.

  “I agree,” Eva said. “We shouldn’t stay here.”

  Gathering the others, she found Ivan last, climbing over a large foundation with only one wall remaining. On the inside, Eva saw a number of runes carved into a large mosaic. The paint was faded and chipped, but she could still make out most of the mural: it showed a series of white-robed people, holding out offerings to a woman clothed in flame, descending from the sun.

  “One of the ancient Palantine gods,” Ivan said, stepping close enough to run a hand over the cracked tiles. “The Sun Mother — goddess of fields and the summer. I can’t believe it!”

  The Scrawl knelt down below the picture to examine the runes. As he traced over each one, his lips moved in silence. When he’d finished the first line, Eva saw Ivan’s face go pale and he jerked his hand back as if he’d been burned by the stone.

  “What is it?” Eva asked. “What does it say?”

  “It is a sacrificial altar,” Seppo said. Eva jumped. She hadn’t heard the golem approach. “My people practiced blood sacrifice — our gods were never sated. We should leave this place.”

  Seppo’s sudden, somber mood change made Eva nervous. She figured this must be the memories of Talus flooding to the forefront again and needed no further encouragement to get them moving again.

  “Let’s go!” Eva shouted, whistling for Fury. “Time to —”

  A loud clanging sounded from the tower. Spinning to see the cause of the nose, Eva caught sight of Wynn leaping from the second floor of the bell tower. The ancient bell peeled, the mournful song reverberating across the countryside. A moment later, its beam broke and crashed down. Whirls of dust rose from the skeleton of the tower as Eva rushed forward to help Wynn to her feet after the long fall.

  “What in the sky were you thinking?” Eva hissed after making sure the younger girl was okay.

  “I…I just wanted to see if it worked is all!” Wynn said, “There was a chain — I didn’t think it would hurt to give it a tug.”

  “You storming idiot!” Sigrid yelled. “Next time do us all a favor and let the bell smash you!”

  Eva turned to tell Sigrid to let it go, but Fury and then other gryphons interrupted her, letting out a warning call overhead. Falling back on their training, Tahl and Sigrid leaped on the back of their gryphons as soon as they landed.

  “We’ve got company!” Tahl yelled once they’d taken off again.

  “What is it?” Soot asked, shading his eyes to look up at them.

  “Looks like a pack of those Runefolks you were talking about,” Sigrid said. Her voice gave no sign of panic, just mild interest. “Scrawny little things, anyway. We must have done something to tick them off, though — they’re coming out of the forest from everywhere.”

  “This will be a sacred site to them, given the altar,” Seppo said. “It is time for us to depart!”

  Loading everyone but Seppo on the gryphons, they took off. Just as Sigrid and Tahl reported, dozens of skinny men and women poured out of the trees about a quarter-mile away. Their hair was matted and wild, their clothes little more than raw hides stitched together. They were armed with rusted, ancient weapons: spears, crude bows, clubs, and hatchets. Eva didn’t need to see more.

  “Let’s go!” she shouted, as Fury banked away toward the river, wings surging. Chel held on tight behind her.

  With Seppo at a full run below them, they pushed the gryphons to their limit. Looking back, Eva saw the Runefolk stop atop the hill, screaming some broken language and shaking their weapons. Thankfully, they didn’t give pursuit. Even so, Eva kept flying until almost nightfall before making camp on a small island in the middle of the river — the safest place they could find.

  As they made a meager, cold camp, Wynn remained silent, ignored by the rest of the party as they went about their different duties and assignments. While the others were preoccupied, Eva pulled her aside and saw the girl twist away to wipe her eyes.

  “I know, I know,” Wynn said in a dull voice. “I’m a storming idiot.”

  “There’s no harm done,” Eva said, “but I hope you learned an important lesson today. What one of us does can affect the entire group. Do you understand?”

  Wynn nodded and Eva pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry,” the girl sniffed. “I’ll do better.”

  “I know you will,” Eva replied, patting her on the back. “We’re all going to have to be on our guard, especially now.”

  On edge from the day’s events, it took a long time for the group to fall asleep, even with the added comfort of knowing they were protected by the river and had Seppo watching over them. Without a fire, the camp felt dreary, even though the night proved to be mild. It took Eva a long time to finally drift off to sleep.

  “Attack! Attack!”

  Sigrid’s shouts cut through the night, immediately rousing everyone. Eva shot to her feet, trying to pull her sword free and untangle herself from Fury, Tahl and her cloak. It was the gray hour before dawn, but she still spotted several shapes surging toward them from the opposite end of the narrow island.

  The others came to their feet, cursing and reaching for their weapons. Eva heard Seppo’s yell and saw a flash of the golem’s blue eyes as he threw himself at the Runefolk, throwing them aside like straw dolls. Hearing shouting behind her, Eva spun to find a man running toward her, his crude spear leveled at her chest. With no time for the fear to set in, she knocked the spearhead aside and killed the unarmored man with a single cut of her sword as he stumbled forward from his missed stab.

  “They’re coming from all sides!” she shouted.

  Not waiting for the next opponent to find her, Eva ran to the bank, hacking through two more Runefolk on the way. Yelling again, Eva tried to rally the others around her, using the intermittent flashes of light from Ivan’s rune fire to spot them.

  Wynn and Chel joined her while Tahl and Soot stood together, cutting through more of the Runefolk as they leaped into the shallows from crudely-fashioned rafts. Behind them, the gryphons tore through another landing party, talons, and beaks making short work of the unarmored people.

  Half-submerged in the river, several Runefolk crawled over Seppo like ants, screaming and beating at his armor with their poor weaponry to no avail. Reaching back, he threw two into the swift current. Ignoring those still clinging to him, Seppo waded to another raft and pummeled it to pieces with his fists. Eva, Chel, and Wynn ran to help Soot and Tahl. As soon as they arrived and cut down a couple more of the Runefolk, however, the savages retreated to their remaining rafts, the fight gone from them.

  “Get outta here!” Sigrid snarled, slashing at the water with her ax.

  Back on the shore, Seppo picked up the Runefolk’s dead bodies and unceremoniously dumped them in the river. Eva studied one of the men she’d killed. He had a ragged beard over a face spotted with sores. Crude rune markings had been painted on his face with what looked like blood. As revolted as she was, Eva couldn’t help but pity the primitive people — by the looks of it, they led a har
d, unforgiving life. Once again, she felt an immense relief when everyone reported no serious injury.

  “What in the blazes was that?” Soot asked. “Can’t have been the same ones that we saw back at the town — there’s no way they could have traveled that fast.”

  “They must have seen us land,” Tahl replied, wiping a streak of blood from his cheek.

  “Huh,” Sigrid said. “That’s the last time I ever pee in the middle of the night alone again. Next time I’m waking you up to come with me, Wynn.”

  They all stared at her for a moment, everyone thinking the same thing but no one daring to ask. Finally, Eva — fighting to keep a straight face — spoke up. “You…you were?”

  “Yeah, they caught me with my pants down, alright?” Sigrid snapped. “I told Seppo to look away, which is why he didn’t see them. Almost got an arrow in my rear!”

  Ivan snorted and, like the first trickle of water in a breaking dam, they all burst into wild laughter. Sigrid glowered and looked like she wanted nothing more than to punch one of them in the face.

  “I don’t see what’s so funny,” she said, voice and temper rising. “It could’ve happened to anyone one of you!”

  “I — I’m surprised you didn’t tell them to piss off!” Ivan gasped out. They roared again. Tears ran down Eva’s face and she fought to calm herself, knowing Sigrid was only seconds away from pummeling someone into the ground.

  “I hate to interrupt,” Seppo said. “But it appears we have more company coming.”

  The laughter died right away. In the gray dawn, Eva looked to the north shore of the river. Dozens of orange eyes burned like the fires of some hellish furnace. No feral, diseased excuses for humans these. They could only be one thing: Smelterborn, and plenty of them.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “Storm it all,” Soot said in a low voice. Eva turned around and found just as many Smelterborn waiting on the southern bank.

  “The Runefolk were a diversion,” Chel said, breaking the silence. “This is what was really waiting.”