The Care and Feeding of Griffins (48 page)

58.  The Lord’s Protected

T
he wind was blowing hard over the plains, and bringing with it the good smells of dying leaves, future snows, and of course, smoke from the human’s fire.  Tonka breathed it all in, smiling as he ran.  It was beginning to feel strange to come so far into this stretch of the land and not turn aside to visit with her, and that made his smile even broader.  Perhaps when his business with his lord was done, he would look in on his kinswoman, but perhaps not.  His lord would not send for him unless the need were urgent.

But Antilles was not on the bridge, where he was most apt to wait after locating a scout to carry his requests.  Tonka was obliged to continue on, through the woods and up the mountain to the cavern where his lord lived out his exile.  The autumn was telling on more than just the wind; blurring shapes of grey over more grey stone provided Tonka with fleeting glimpses of sangura foraging for their winter sleep, and provided him too with more Taryn-thoughts and broad smiles.  Hoppers, she called them, and the mountain-dwelling kinds of them, rock-hoppers.  She named everything she saw, named them with
that preponderance of conceit that was so human, and that complete lack of vanity that was so Taryn.  More and more of his tribesmen were calling the beasts ‘hoppers’, Tonka among them.

He shook his head as he climbed the steep path.  He would see her, he decided.  And regardless of his mood when he left his lord
’s company, he was sure that it would be improved by a short stay at the human’s humble camp.  She would give him tea and welcome him with tales extolling her foundling’s growth and health, and he would listen and take a kinsman’s kiss and remember as he did, as he would remember all the days of his life, that this fine life was the same he had once wished to end, because he would rather have her dead than honest.

Antilles was on the overlook, comfortably hunkered against the wind, and he did not rise when Tonka joined him. 
“Chieftain,” he said.

“
Great lord.”  Tonka scanned the plains below.  Taryn’s tent lay under a thin cover of smoke.  He could not make her out at this distance, although he could see that his friend did and was intently watching her at her labors.

No words were spoken for a long time.  Tonka waited, easy in this silence, easy in this company.  At length, Taryn must have passed into her tent or her nearby wooded place, for Antilles shook himself alert and rose, all his attention now for Tonka.

“What will, my lord?” the horseman said.

Antilles frowned and stared hard to the west.  One hand half-raised, clenched, and lowered. 
“The wizard has seen her.”

“
Aye.”  A cloud, thin as the smoke that hazed over Taryn’s tent, settled onto Tonka’s heart.  “Seen her, and by all accounts, done some ill to her, although precisely what I cannot say.”

“
And yet, he has not seized her.” 

“
Tis not for lack of trying.”  Tonka raised a hand to grip at the haft of his runka, though he did not draw it.  “Morathi tells me the wizard is calling her, always calling her.”

“
But she does not go.”

“
You may stand against the flow of the river easily enough,” Tonka said, and shrugged. “But you can as easily see the deep cuts the same river has made in the hardest stone…over time.  And she does go, my lord, or at least, she has often enough set out in that direction.  My scouts stop her when they see her, and of course, I do send kin to hold her in her camp.”

“
Aye.”  Antilles glanced down once more, no doubt looking over the horseman keeping company with Taryn today.  He rubbed at his muzzle, scraping at the ground distractedly with one hoof.  “And yet I will not believe for one moment that that evil creature shall let her be.”

“
Nay.”  That cloud on Tonka’s heart thickened, but there was one flickering sliver of light and he gave it voice now.  “Perhaps…she is in some way defended.  She came through the Wyvern’s Wood, thus she cannot be entirely helpless.”

Antilles was already shaking his head. 
“The Pathfinder she calls Romany brought her to the edge of the wood.  She never knew the dangers therein.”

“
She slept within the Standing Stones.”

The lord of the V
alley blew out a coarse, frustrated gust of air and scowled.  “Aye, she did.  And emerged in the morning, and the gods alone know how she managed that, for the hungry things that den there would seem to have left no mark on her.  But she is no wizard, and neither is she warded against their power.  And there is one who has had her in his grasp and who is surely wanting her again.”  That hand rose and clenched again.

Tonka could feel himself wanting to stamp. 
“You have forbidden her to meet with him.”

Antilles
’s steely eyes rolled skyward, trading the stark light of fury for humor.  “Aye, well, I could forbid that one a thousand things and she would march out on her own merits even so.  Willful, arrogant human.”

“
Then tell her plainly you are her lord.”

“
I have done.”

Tonka drew back, puzzled. 
“Then she will obey, surely,” he said.

“
Ha!”  Antilles threw back his head and boomed black laughter down at Taryn’s tent.  “Nay, if I ordered her as lord to breathe, she would drop blue-faced and defiant at my hooves!  Self-willed, stubborn little…
arrogant
human!”

“
Then tell her instead what the wizard has done.  Let her come to her own conclusions.  Her mind is a ready one.  She will surely see your reasoning when she knows him for the monster he is.”

Antilles was quiet, considering this, his eyes once more growing distant.  Tonka could see his lord
’s gaze tracking something far below.  Taryn, returned.  Antilles scowled, watching her.  “Nay,” he said finally.

“
You think she would not believe you?”

“
I think that she would.  And then I think she would take up arms and seek the wizard out to defend her damned griffin.”

Tonka
’s heart sank yet further, recognizing the truth in this.  “She has no weapon,” he said weakly.

“
Aye, I know it.  And it would not sway her.  She would go, aye, and cast her fool stones at the creature that devastated Dis.”

A lengthy silence followed this grim declaration.  Antilles sank slowly down to one knee, his hand reflexively clenching over and over.

“What is your will, my lord?” Tonka asked at length.

Antilles cursed, then sighed, then finally looked up. 
“Say nothing of the wizard, nor of the harm he has done.  And be vigilant.  If the little fool will bring no defenses with her, then we shall become her defenses.”

As if they could stand against the wizard.

Tonka bent his head anyway.  “Aye, lord.”

Antilles waved one hand, dismissing him without looking away from his frowning study of Taryn
’s encampment.  The chieftain of kraal-Rucombe turned to go, but had taken only a single step before Antilles spoke again, this time with uncharacteristic awkwardness.  “She is… remarkable…isn’t she?”

Tonka paused, glancing back over his shoulder.  His lord was still staring down into the plains, still brooding. 
“Aye,” he said softly.

“
She…She’s made me somewhat fond of her.”

Tonka
’s tail flicked.  “Aye,” he said again.

Antilles scowled even harder. 
“That greatly annoys me,” he said.  And stood up and left the overlook.

Tonka watched him go, one corner of his mouth rising by slow degrees until he heard the slamming of the great stone door.  Shaking his head, he continued along the path down the mountain and onward to visit with his kinswoman.

59.  A Wizard’s Patience

T
he wizard stood in the open doorway of his cabin, looking out into the silent wood that enveloped him.  He was waiting for his cat to come in from hunting, and some of his thoughts were indeed concerned with the discomforts of his body rather than the frustrations of the task with which he had set himself.  He had not eaten in days.  Not since Taryn’s touching gift of pheasant, come to think of it, although he’d had her back several times between then and now, to mine her sweet body of all there was of value.

Taryn.  He had been casting for her ceaselessly since he
’d laid the wizard’s clay into her, forgoing sleep, forgoing food, forgoing every kind of petty distraction.  He had worn himself to his very limits, but now he had to rest.  He could not continue this relentless assault.  Not without running the serious risk of losing his temper.

Where was she?  He knew she could hear him.  He knew she wanted to obey.  Why was she not coming?

The wizard stilled his thoughts and pushed out from his physical self, following the beacon of the Augment he’d placed in her, but he stopped well back from her encampment and retreated mere moments later.  She was not alone.  She seldom was these days, and that was an irritant in itself, but today her guest was the hell-damned witch of the horse-tribe, and the wizard did not dare to approach in this vulnerable form.  The old witch was not the most powerful of his kind, but it did not take much power to inflict crippling harm upon an unprotected and incorporeal manifestation of the wizard’s self.

Ah, but the qualifying word was
‘old’.  The magic of the Farasai did not prolong life, and that one had already lived out more years than any horseman had a right to expect.  His power may not be weakened for it, but his old heart surely was.  The wizard had only to wait.

The wizard had little experience or cause to concern himself with patience, but that was not to say that he could not see the importance of its employ at times.  He understood that his prey was at a delicate stage
, but she was also infuriatingly well-guarded by the beasts of the Valley.  He suspected that his Taryn had in fact set out to come to him on several occasions and been deliberately intercepted by the horsemen.  And if that turned out to be the case, may their crippled gods help them, for once the wizard had his Taryn firmly enthralled and no longer required the aids of subtlety and deceit to keep her, he would see such insolent disregard for his dominion answered the way that he had answered the city of Dis.

But not now.  Not yet.  The horsemen were not the Cerosan.  The horsemen had magi among them, and while none of those could possibly compare with any son of Mab
’s, neither were they to be dismissed out of hand.  After all, the sting of one fly was of no consequence until it stung the throat
just
so.

Or until there were many flies stinging all at once.

So he would endure the insult of their suspected defiance for now.  The wizard was confident in his power, but there was nothing to gain by acting recklessly.  Not if, by the exercise of a little patience, he could have the prize painlessly.

And soon, he hoped.  To be sure, he had nearly exhausted the fruits of her unharvested virginity and he was eager for that last, sweet bite.  But there was a practical aspect to his desire for her, as well.  Winter was coming.  He wanted a creature who could keep him more reliably fed during the lean months than his mindless cat.  One
who could go out to fetch firewood instead of forcing him to expend the extra energies on generating magical flame.  One who could tidy up, and who perhaps would do so without needing constant supervision and commands.  One who could open her own doors.

And here came his cat at last, back through the trees.  Her mouth, chin, and breasts were smeared with blood
, and a mangled portion of viscera dangled uncaringly from one hand—his dinner.  The cat’s tail was lashing, and her eyes were hooded and sullen.  She would be difficult to control tonight.  It was just as well that he would not be engaged in spellcraft.  He needed to give her some attention before she turned surly and started destroying things. 

Well.  Surlier.  By all the secret names of Hell, he
’d come to hate cats.

“
Taryn,” the wizard sighed, moving aside to let his cat enter.  “You had best be at the knife’s edge of surrender, and you had best be worth the time and effort it’s taken to put you there.”  But he was smiling when he said it.  If she could be taught to cook and clean as speedily as she’d been taught to pleasure him, then she would be a matchless companion.  And who knew?  Perhaps she could also sing or dance.

Well, he
’d find out for himself soon enough.  Until then, he would be cautious as he drew her in.  He would be careful with that clever mind, that delectable body, and of course, with that priceless little griffin.  He would have her for all his own, but for now, he had to be patient.