"We have two more days in Bastion," he said. Most of the others nodded in acceptance – one, though, a man whom Pollis knew had a new girl somewhere in the city, shook his head in disappointment.
"We can't have one winter..." he mumbled.
"Enough," Pollis said quickly. "You know damn well that the Captain wouldn't have us about it if it weren't important."
"We're out of the city almost year-round," the man said, still shaking his head softly. "There are five other commands like the Gryphons, now. I hear they're doing splendidly. Let us have a bit of rest, for once."
There were a couple of sympathetic nods from around the table. Pollis was conflicted – on the one hand, Darius did not want the word about their mission to get out. On the other, one of the keys to the Gryphons' success was their superb morale. Especially with the mission they would be heading into, possibly ending up in a siege situation for a lengthy time, he needed all his men to be solidly behind the Captain. He leaned across the table, and dropped his voice – though there was no-one else in the room.
"The target is Nebeth," he said, spearing each man with an earnest glare. "Understand? I was stationed there for years, and I know those rooms. We're not leveling another border fort – we're taking back the key to the entire border. We, the Gryphons. Is that worth getting your feet cold?"
Pollis didn't wait for an answer, settling back into his chair and speaking normally. "There has been too much going on lately for us to rest on our laurels. There are still some things that only the Gryphons can do," Pollis said. He motioned towards the door with his head. "Go on. Drink, sing, say goodbye to your sweethearts. We leave in three days."
***
She shifted languidly in half-sleep, her motion dragging the covers away from one leg and exposing it to the cold air. The stove had burnt out while they slept, and the bedroom had a chill that was usually only present in the early hours of the morning. It woke her. The first thing she did was withdraw her leg back under the luxuriously thick covers. Seeing the sun in the sky reminded her that it was not morning, but rather closer to noon. She mentally scolded herself – there was little enough light these days, and here she was wasting the middle of the day. Her self-chastisement did not have the sting that it used to, though.
Braving the cold for a few moments, she threw off the covers and moved quickly to the stove, where she put on the heavy fur cloak that Pendrick had given her on their wedding night, grateful to find it had retained some of the late fire's heat. She opened the stove to see that even the coals had ceased to glow. Piling in more wood and preparing her tinder, she took flint and steel from their place and began to strike sparks.
On her second strike, the wood within the stove lit and began to burn merrily – and the tinder lay untouched before her. Glancing behind herself, she scowled at Pendrick, who lay looking at her with his head propped up on one arm.
"Wizards," she scoffed with a mock toss of her hair.
"You were taking too long," Pendrick returned. "Now come back to bed."
"No!" she protested laughingly. "It's after noon. I've been lazy enough today."
"You're the wife of a wizard!" Pendrick said, rolling onto his back. "You can be lazy as you please, now."
She crossed back over the floor, kneeling by the bed and speaking inches from his face.
"And that is why I am not," she said with a smirk, and kissed him. Then she straightened, and with a sudden jerk tore the coverings from the bed and from her husband. Pendrick yelped as the cold air hit him – hit all of him.
"Devil woman!" he said as he leapt from the bed and dressed with impressive speed. His laughter took the sting from the insult. Once he had shielded the more tender parts of himself with his robes, Pendrick embraced his wife, looking her in the eyes with the smile of a man entirely happy with his place in life. There was, however, something else in his expression...
She glanced once more to the sun. "I'll need to go soon. I promised to help my sister with her spinning today," she said.
"Your sister? You'll have to go clear across the city!" Pendrick said.
"There's hardly been any snow yet, my love. I will be fine."
Pendrick released her from his embrace and watched as she fetched clothing for herself. Not the fine dresses he had been getting her – and that he knew she loved – but the much simpler fare from her youth, cloth that was thick and warm if somewhat rougher. They were good, simple, working clothes.
"You really don't need to bustle about so much," Pendrick said with a bemused smile. "Not anymore."
"I like to bustle about! My sister has been stuck with twice the work since I married you, love. Besides, what else have I to do? I cannot wait in bed for you all day," she said, and laughed when he grinned and waggled his eyebrows, as if to suggest the opposite.
"Perhaps, when I have a child to look after, I will change my mind," she said as she stepped into her boots. "Soon, I hope."
"I as well," Pendrick agreed, and moved to embrace her again. "Though why you are so eager to go through all that, I cannot imagine. I remember poor Elissa a month ago, howling away as they carried her down the hill," Pendrick nearly cringed at the memory.
"Oh, it was not so bad. You men are so skittish," she scolded. "Besides, once you get to the Houses the Angels take all the pain away."
"Of course."
Once more that strangeness flitted across his face, and she threw her hands up in consternation.
"I cannot take it. What? What is it, Pendrick? You've been wanting to tell me something since you returned this morning. Out with it!"
His eyes had gone wide. "How did you know?"
"Because I am your wife, and it is my duty to know when you're being too silly to speak your mind," she said with exasperation. “So? What is it?”
Pendrick took a deep breath, and his expression grew somber. “I’m going to be leaving Bastion in a couple days,” he said. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone.”
Now it was her turn to be shocked. She stood with her mouth open, and slowly that look of worry which he’d seen before began to steal its way across her features.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier. I’ve only known for a little while, myself, and I didn’t want…” Pendrick trailed off, looking at his wife helplessly as she nodded along with his words, her entire demeanor changed.
“You’re being sent to the border?”
“No! It is a – a mission, of sorts. I’ll be with several other wizards, and good soldiers, and we’ll return as quickly as we are able,” he said. “And I’ll be careful, of course.”
She looked near to tears, which in turn made Pendrick want to cry as well. “Can a hero be careful?” she asked.
“I don’t want to be a hero anymore!” Pendrick exclaimed. It was something he had told her on one of the their first nights together, before they were married – before they had even known each other a month. His dreams of being a great wizard, a battlefield hero like Darius and a respected leader like Arric. He hadn’t noticed at the time the worry that had crossed her face, even then, when he spoke of going to the fight.
Even then it had been dreams, the last vestiges of youthful fantasy confessed to a lover on a starry night.
“I’ve told you that often enough, love. All I want now is you, to be with and near you. To raise a family with you,” Pendrick said, meaning every word.
He took her hands and looked deep into her eyes, wishing he could use magic to make her believe him, to comfort her. “This mission is important. It’s about what happened to Balkan and his family. We're going to make sure it never happens again.”
She had no quick retort for that. The horror of that night still lurked in the minds of the residents of the Crown. The presence of the Demon had reduced both wizard and wife to quivering, crying wrecks in the few moments it was in Bastion. Pendrick had fared little better than she, despite having once encountered the feeling on the battlefield. He did not want to be a hero – but if he had to
die to keep her from ever feeling such vileness again, he would gladly do so.
She broke their stare, pulling him close again. “You don’t know when you’ll be back?”
“No, dearest. As soon as possible, I promise,” he answered, and gave a halfhearted chuckle. “None of us want to be out in the cold any longer than we must.”
She humored him with a laugh of her own and pulled away, drying her eyes. Once more she looked out the window. “I must still go help my sister,” she said, now sounding mournful at the fact. “But I’ll return early. I’ll be back before sunset,” she promised.
“I’ll be here. I’ll have dinner waiting!” Pendrick said with a sudden smile. He was not the equal of his wife in preparing a meal, but he had learned much from her and enjoyed showing it.
***
"Here is the Armsmaster's inventory, conducted last month," Callos said, handing a sheet of parchment to Arric.
The Council Leader studied the numbers with his customary thoroughness, making little noises in his throat as he came upon items of at least menial interest. Then he reached the bottom, where the Armsmaster had written a short scrawl giving his own summary of affairs concerning his station. Arric's eyebrow's raised and he looked at Callos.
"Did you speak with him when you received this?" Arric asked.
"I did."
"And did he deign to give any more explanation for his decision to -" Arric dropped his eyes back to the ink, reading directly. "'Use the leisure provided by the winter months to cease production of traditional armor and apply all men and materials towards the creation of the scale armor favored by the Gryphons'?"
Callos nodded. "He did. He claimed that, provided our resources are adequate, to continue creating the old style of armor when the new had proven far more effective was a waste."
Arric grunted. "Just as long as production does not suffer," he said. His face grew more somber. “I think that our 'leisure' will prove all-too short. As soon as the snows melt, Traigan will strike again. He'll want to regain the momentum he lost at Threeforts, to make the most of the gains he acquired last year."
"I agree, as do many of us," Callos said, speaking for the Council. "Darius and I had an interesting conversation a few days ago. I asked him if the Fists might not be useful as scouts in force, able to penetrate the Enemy borders and report back on the disposition of reinforcements and supplies."
"His opinion?"
"He said that, for the time being, his own Gryphons were the only group he would trust with a mission so dangerous. He claims that, as one of their greatest strengths is their ability to flee danger, it would not yet be wise to place the other Fists in a mission that may lead to their being trapped."
"It is a good thought, though," Arric mused. "More knowledge of what is going on behind the border may help us annul the advantage the Enemy have in Firewalking – and that must remain our top priority."
"Yes," Callos responded. "Arric, there is one more thing, a small thing, but I thought you should hear it as it concerns the Gryphons."
Arric sighed. "What is it?"
"There has been a strange rumor going about Bastion in the last few days, and I would not have given it more thought save that a pair of Generals have approached me to ask about it. Apparently, some of the Gryphons were claiming that they were setting out to attack Fortress Nebeth."
With a laugh, Arric's shed the concern that had screwed up his features. "Attack Nebeth? Don't be absurd. It has as much weight as any other rumor."
"Yes, exactly my opinion. However, given that such stories are so seldom heard stemming from the Gryphons I thought it might have more to it."
"Of course not," Arric replied quickly, then looked thoughtful. "Though they are usually too disciplined to make up such claims. If anything I'd had the impression that the Gryphons tended towards taciturnity."
"Thus the reason I passed it on to you. It is unusual."
"Either way, it is still absurd. The Gryphons are on a training march, and Darius is not even with them."
"Perhaps it would be better to ask him, though. Where is he?" Callos asked. The Council Leader, of old habit, still kept rather close watch on Darius – though lately the man had been kept out of trouble by his duties in research. Ethion was too staunch and worthy a man to let Darius get out of hand.
"With Ethion and the rest of his group, conducting another test," Arric answered. "They left the city this morning. I'll ask him when he returns."
Chapter Forty-One
The wizards trudged single-file, leaving a snaking path of churned snow as they wound through the shallow hills. The site of the original trial of the counterspell – which had left Darius incapacitated for nearly a day – had become the location from which all their tests were carried out by decision of the Council. An arbitrary decision, but even Darius agreed that the starting point mattered little – so long as it was far enough from Bastion to avoid alarming anyone.
Each man was carrying a heavy pack, filled with food. Waterskins hung from every available strap. With fortune, they would need only a fraction of what they carried, but Darius had insisted that each man bring everything he could. Some of the wizards tread clumsily, unused to the burden. They received little sympathy from the captain of the Gryphons.
They reached their destination shortly before the sun had reached its zenith. "Drop your packs and rest," ordered Darius. "We've a few moments before we must begin."
Gratefully they all did as they were bid, and Darius caught more than a few of them casting glances back towards Bastion – the highest points of which were still visible over the hilltops. Some of the looks were wistful, some sad.
Pendrick, oddly enough, had one of the most stoic expressions. Balkan's loss had affected the young man greatly – much as it had Emanuelle, Darius remembered. Young men with young wives, the both of them. Pendrick must have felt the eyes on him, for he turned and looked back at Darius. The two men held that gaze for a long moment. Darius could not have guessed what went on in Pendrick's head. For himself, he realized that this man, young though he was, was knowingly risking more in accompanying them than Darius had ever had to risk.
He felt a fleeting sadness at that – his entire life had belonged to the War. The two men he'd ever truly called 'friend' were both gone – and Darius could only hope that both were, in fact, dead.
Then he marveled at Pendrick's bravery – To feel for the cause greatly enough to risk a life full of happiness, a wife, perhaps a family, all for the sake of their mission.
Darius bowed low. Pendrick, surprised, returned the gesture after a moment. Darius finally turned away when Ethion tapped him on the shoulder, then wordlessly motioned to the sun overhead.
It was noon. It was time.
Hoisting his pack back onto his shoulders, Darius called out, "If anyone has a last moment objection to raise, here is your chance."
There was silence for a moment. Then, to Darius's alarm, Alexander stepped forward with an apprehensive look. He glanced about the circle that had formed, then back to Darius.
"I'm cold," he said gravely. "We should wait until spring."
A chuckle from somewhere amongst the wizards was the first reaction, and Alexander's grim expression broke, replaced with a grin. Soon all of the wizards were laughing, some shaking their heads at the joke. It had been just what they needed, though. Somber though their task may be, they needed to keep their spirits up.
"This first spell will be only a mite shorter than our furthest attempt," Darius announced, telling the wizards what they already knew. "It will place us over half the way towards Nebeth. My Gryphons should already be waiting for us."
He motioned to Alexander, who'd been elected to direct the first spell. One by one, the wizards opened themselves up to him, pouring forth the magic that would set them all on the final path to changing the world.
***
It had not felt much like a training march. Though Darius had given them five days to reach the glade, Pollis h
ad found that the Gryphons had difficulty maintaining such a slow pace, even through the snow and with their heavy load. They reached their destination early on the fourth day, and still considered it an easy journey. They wasted little energy on a camp they would abandon soon, merely pitching tents and laying circles of stones for cooking fires. Then they settled down into the most time-honored of soldierly duties – waiting.
Pollis knew very well that they would soon have hard times. No matter the genius of their captain and his fellows, nothing ever went right near Nebeth. The Fortress was too focal for the war, too greatly coveted by both sides. The generals considered it a great prize, but to the common soldier it was a breeding place of disaster.
He had introduced the Gryphons to their plans, and now each man knew his duties in the ordeal ahead. Which corridors to guard, what rooms to check. Which of his comrades would stand beside him in the fight. Every detail planned, and the plans themselves had several variations to allow for the unexpected. Pollis had set some of the men to cutting timbers suitable for barricades, as Darius had wanted. They now had twice as many as they would need.
By now the men all knew their target, as well. Most assumed the mission was to capture the Fortress, as Pollis had originally believed. He was no longer so sure. Whilst his men had been preparing in the city, he had done some investigation, questioning officers in Bastion about the latest news. None knew even the slightest thing about any activity on the border, which led Pollis to wondering – was Darius really expecting to capture Nebeth with only the Gryphons?
Pollis did not share his worries. He trusted his Captain – where Darius led, he would follow. What Darius ordered, he would do.
The Gryphons were sitting at supper, singing and joking. Their meal was a hearty stew, helped by some of the last fresh meat they were likely to have for the next couple of months – some rabbits that had unwisely quit their burrows and had been found in the snares that morning. It was a fine winter day. The sun was high and bright in the cloudless sky, and the forest kept the wind at bay. Even the skeletons of the trees in the forest, interrupted here and there by an evergreen, were somehow beautiful.
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