Authors: Michael Wallace

The Golden Griffin (Book 3) (27 page)

“No,” Daria said. “If you leave, you leave alone. I am entering that tent and listening to what they have to say.”

“You tamed a golden griffin. You single-handedly wounded a dragon and drove it from the mountains. You have nothing to prove.”

“Mother!”

Palina reached for her arm, but Daria pulled away. For a long moment, mother and daughter looked at each other, neither backing down. Then Palina grabbed Yuli’s reins. She climbed onto the griffin’s back, dug in her heels and lifted into the sky. Moments later, griffin and rider were gone.

Daria turned around to find the big knight watching her. Brannock.

“My father is the brother of an eorl,” he said. “He owns eleven hundred acres of well-watered land. A river passes through his property, and he owns a water mill, as well.”

“Excuse me?”

“He didn’t understand why I would join the Brotherhood. That was for repentant criminals and the sons of landless peasants.”

“What about the king’s brothers? They’re knights.”

“That’s exactly what I asked my father. That was different, he said. The king’s brothers are warlords, the sons of a warrior king—they need an army to command. Blood to spill. The blood of lesser men. In a way, he was right.”

“Why did you join?” Daria asked.

“Adventure. Travel. The camaraderie of the Brotherhood. It doesn’t matter—this is my life, not his. Maybe when the Harvester takes me, I’ll be reborn a simple man, like my father. Maybe then I’ll love the soil as he does. But not in this life.”

“I understand.”

“I thought you would.” He glanced at Talon. “Will the griffin behave himself?”

“I hope so. But he’s unpredictable.” She smiled. “Like you and I.”

Brannock led Daria to the tent. He parted the flap for her to enter, but remained outside. Inside, she found Hob, Narud, and a second, younger wizard who Hob introduced as Edouard the Lesser. She wondered if there were an “Edouard the Greater” out there somewhere. The hands of both wizards curled into blackened fists, a sight that sent a queasy feeling into her stomach. She looked away.

“Have you seen Markal and his apprentice?” Narud asked.

“Not since the night at the keep, no. Wait, weren’t you traveling with them?”

“For a stretch, yes, but I had other business to attend to.” Narud cocked his head and squinted one eye shut in a gesture that looked vaguely bird-like. “I believe they flew south with a griffin rider.”

“Really? Nobody said anything to me about it.”

“I thought it might have been you.”

Daria felt a pang. “No, it wasn’t.”

“Wherever he is, we need him,” Hob said. “The wizard, not Darik.”

“Is he stronger than the two of you, then?” Daria asked the wizards.

“It’s not his strength we need,” Narud said, “it’s his knowledge. I don’t understand these ravagers. I don’t know what makes the dead wake and fight against the living. So I don’t know how to stop them.”

“Tell me where Markal is and I’ll fetch him,” Daria said.

“He meant to confront the Betrayer when he crossed the Tothian Way,” Narud said. “If he couldn’t find him there, he and the boy would go south to the sultanates. Most likely to Marrabat.”

The wind picked up outside and flapped the sides of the tent. A cold breeze came in through the tent flaps.

“I wouldn’t mind being in the sultanates myself,” Hob said. He rubbed his hands together. “Winter is stalking the north country. It will be a hard one.”

“It would take weeks of hard riding to get to Marrabat,” Narud said.

“Yes, I know,” Hob said with a note of impatience. “And I need to follow these ravagers, anyway. Whatever else happens, we can’t wait for them to gain strength on the backs of our dead.”

“I’d be happy to help,” Daria said. “I’ll fly to Marrabat and bring the wizard back. It will only take a few days.”

“Markal wouldn’t leave the boy,” Narud said.

“Then I’ll bring him back, too,” she said, perhaps a bit too quickly.

The younger wizard, Edouard, gave her a sharp look, and she turned away, a flush rising in her cheeks.

“A child of the mountains wouldn’t last long in the heat,” Narud said.

“I’ve flown over the desert. I flew to Balsalom earlier this summer, remember?”

“It isn’t the same desert. The south is a land of baking sand and scorching sun. And it’s much farther.”

“So I’ll fly higher. A couple of miles up, the heat won’t be so bad.”

“The air is too thin. A griffin can’t fly so many hours without descending where it can breathe deeply.”

“So we’ll come down to catch our breath. I can manage the cold just fine. Why not the heat?”

“You have power over the cold. You have none against the heat.”

“I don’t have any power against the cold. It’s pure will.”

“Will doesn’t allow you to fly fifteen thousand feet in the air or to bathe in icy streams. That is the result of generations of mountain living. And the cost is that you would die in the southern deserts. Please believe me. And if not for your own sake, for the sake of your griffin. It would suffer in the heat.”

Daria chewed at her lip.

“Why don’t you do it?” Hob asked Narud. “Turn into—I don’t know—a crow or something and fly there?”

The wizard lifted his withered hands. “I won’t have that kind of power for days. And I wouldn’t make it halfway before I became a man again. I’d be forced to wait and replenish my power.”

“All right, it was just a suggestion,” Hob said. “Seems like we don’t have any other choice than to send riders.”

“How about sending for Whelan, instead?” Edouard said. “He has a sword that could bind the souls of these ravagers.”

“We won’t recall Whelan from the east,” Narud said. “He has a chance to overthrow the dark wizard in his citadel before the enemy regains his strength. Nothing is more important. No, we must bring Markal back. We’ll go on horse. If it takes weeks, it takes weeks.”

“We don’t have weeks,” Hob said. “The ravagers are growing in strength day by day. By the time you get back, it might be too late.”

“Wizard, can you fly a griffin?” Daria asked.

“No.”

“But if I fly, you can at least ride along, right?”

“Of course,” Narud said. “So I suppose you can help, to a certain point. Carry me to Montrcrag, at least, then east along the Way to Balsalom. I’ll pick up the Spice Road from there.”

“That will cut a week, at least,” Hob said. He looked more hopeful.

Daria nodded eagerly. “And if we flew south on the Spice Road together—”

“Child,” he interrupted. “I told you—”

“Together,” she insisted. “You could conjure some small magic to keep me cool, couldn’t you? Don’t tell me you couldn’t manage a nice breeze.”

Narud looked thoughtful. “It’s dangerous for you. And the griffin—there are beasts in the desert. The desert is the homeland of your enemy. This dragon you wounded will have retreated there to recover from its wounds. No, I can’t let you do it.”

“The girl wants to help, wizard,” the captain said. “Who are you to tell her she can’t do her share?”

“She has done her share,” Narud insisted. “Twice over, already. I promised her mother—”

Daria let out a harsh laugh. “Oh, I see. I should have known. There’s no risk of my melting in the desert, you just made an arrangement with my mother.”

“I didn’t invent that,” Narud said. “Believe me, I didn’t.”

“But you overstated.” She put her hands on her hips. “I’m flying to Marrabat whether you come or not.”

“How will you even locate the city?” he asked. “It’s in a wasteland of sand and stone.”

“Watch and find out.”

Edouard leaned in and whispered something in the older wizard’s ear. Narud frowned. He studied Daria as Edouard continued. At last he nodded.

“Very well. You may go.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Thank you, but I am Daria Flockheart. I don’t need the permission of man, woman, or wizard to do what I must.”

He looked taken aback at this. She met his gaze until he looked away. Edouard and Hob stared.

“What I mean is, we’ll go together,” Narud said at last. “Is your griffin ready?”

“Talon is always ready. Let’s fly.”

-end-

From the Author

Thank you for reading The Golden Griffin. Most of my books (and sales) are thrillers, but I enjoy writing fantasy novels as well. Of course, as a writer trying to make a living, I need to balance my interests with what people are willing to buy. If you would like to support my ability to write more stories in The Dark Citadel series, a quick review wherever you purchased the book helps readers discover my work.

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