Gryphon's Eyrie

12 Kerovan

The night was gentle against my face, yielding like fistfuls of wool, filled with the quiet sounds of talking. I lay on a hard, rocky surface, but my head was pillowed on something yielding and warm. For a moment I lay content not to remember, simply to rest, to know that I lived. I did not want to open my eyes. That gesture would tie me again to the real world, to striving, and pain, and discovery…

Idly, I identified the voices I could hear.

“Pass me the waterskin again, please, Jervon. I have never been so thirsty, it seems!” That was Elys. Somehow, without seeing them, I knew she was sitting beside her lord, their sides touching.

I heard the gurgle of the liquid. My own mouth was dry… I resisted the urge to lick my lips. Waking would bring demands, and for the moment I wanted none, save only to know I was alive, and so was my lady… for Joisan sat beside me. The softness pillowing my head was her lap.

“Here, Lady Sylvya.” There came the sound of footsteps.

“I have some selka juice here. Perhaps you would like it.” Caret’s voice.

“My thanks.” That was Sylvya’s trill.

So… we had all survived. I wondered idly how the Shadow-creatures and the wraiths had been bested. I had drifted in and out of consciousness for several minutes during that battle, hearing but not seeing, and now I remembered a jumble of words. Sylvya had spoken of a—Hastily my mind skittered away from memory when it pressed too close. I could not have heard correctly…

“How is he, Joisan?” That was Guret, sitting down beside my lady.

“He has been asleep,” she said, and I felt her touch, lighter than the night air, on my hair, smoothing it back from my forehead. I could tell from her voice she was smiling. “But now he begins to wake, though he has not vet consented to open his eyes.”

Found out, I lifted my eyelids hastily, then strove to get up. The reality of the task proved far harder than the idea—but finally I sat, looking around me. We were in the ruins, outside the Guardians’ place. The horses were tethered nearby, and a small blaze threw back the last shadows of the night with brave yellow flames. Jervon, Elys, Sylvya, Guret, and Joisan were gathered around it. “There was no sign of any of our enemies.

“The Shadows… the wraiths—” I began, only to have my voice crack from dryness. Joisan handed me the waterskin and I drank thirstily as she explained that they were gone, defeated.

“How?” I asked, around a mouthful of the joumeybread Guret produced from his saddlebag.

“The Lady Joisan,” Elys said, her voice holding a faint current of amusement. “First she persuaded Gunnora to grant the wraiths the peace of true death, then she opened a Gate to send the Shadows back whence they had come. And to think three years ago I told her that some small share of the Craft might be awakened in her if she strove hard and was patient!”

My lady smiled. “And so I owe my success to you, Elys, for telling me I might be able to learn. And for giving me those first few hints as to how to seek wisdom within myself.”

“It seems you have been an excellent student,” Elys agreed wryly. “I feel fortunate that we are comrades, not opponents!”

“But to open a Gate…” I shook my head. “Only with Landisl’s Power to draw on was I able to do such, even in a fortress steeped in sorcery, where the reserves had been strengthened through ages of waiting. How could you…”

Joisan looked away, and it seemed to me I saw a faint flush redden her face even more than the firelight. “I had Sylvya to help.”

“The Shadows…” I frowned, trying now to remember. “And Sylvya was speaking. She said—” I stopped as the full memory rushed back in. I looked at Joisan and knew the truth. Why didn’t you tell me? I demanded silently. I never guessed—it is true? You are going to have a child?

Her chin came up as she met my gaze unflinchingly, but her mouth trembled. We are, she admitted. I tried to tell you, but there was no time… For a long second she watched me, as though she had never seen my face before. Tell me, Kerovan… are you—please say you are—glad?

I heard a rustle and glanced over to see Guret and the others gathering up the provisions and moving away to saddle the horses. I stood abruptly. “Let us walk for a moment.”

Joisan followed me into the place of the Guardians, until we could no longer see the fire. I needs must still move slowly, but the better part of my strength was returning. As we stepped through the archway, I glanced over to see the once-empty niche—it was almost impossible to believe that we were still in the same night as the battle. I paced on a few more steps, thinking.

“Kerovan!” Joisan grasped my arm, swinging me to face her, her eyes pleading now. “Tell me what you are thinking!”

For answer I touched her hand, feeling the roughness left by hard work, yet the fine bones beneath the skin. “I .im thinking that I love you very much, my lady,” I said simply. “And that I cannot wait to see our daughter. I cannot believe Gunnora has smiled upon us after so long.” Drawing her to me, I held her tightly, feeling a quiet joy rise up between us and overflow, spilling outward until I was sure even the ancient Kings could feel it.

When I finally released her, reluctantly, she touched my cheek. “It was the child, you know, that held the Power to open the Gate. We are going to be very busy, Kerovan. Raising an ordinary babe is taxing enough, but this one…” She shrugged, smiling. “Ah, well, we have never been over fond of boredom, either of us.”

I shook my head in wry agreement. “Still, I could wish tor a few less alarums and excursions,” I said. “When will it—she—

“Around the time of Midwinter Feast,” she told me. We will have to gather plenty of firewood.”

“Guret and I will have to block up the arches,” I said, then a memory struck me. “He knows, doesn’t he? He guessed?”

Joisan nodded.

I shook my head. “I should feel a fool, since I was so Mind,” I told her. “But I thought I was so different that I never let myself hope—”

“I know,” she said. “So you want to ask the lad to stay with us?”

“The Kioga need a home,” I said. “Now they can rove their mountains again without fear. The grazing in the valley is rich…”

She nodded thoughtfully. “Perhaps… there was a purpose to all this,” she whispered. “Remember that Obred said that when the Twins came to walk the earth, the Kioga would find a new land?”

“I remember,” I said. “And in a few days, when we have rested, we’ll ride south, the three of us, to tell them they can return to the mountains in safety.”

“And what of Sylvya?” she asked. “The valley is very precious to her also.”

“As Landisl’s only remaining blood-kin,” I said, “Kar Garudwyn may be more rightfully hers than it is mine.”

“Not so,” Sylvya trilled, and we turned to see her step through the archway. “The heritage of the Gryphon belongs to you, Kerovan, for it chooses its master or mistress. I would ask of you only the chance to work with you and your lady to restore the citadel, and my valley.”

“We shall all work together,” I said. “Joisan and I, you, Elys and Jervon, if they desire. There is room—Arvon is wide.”