Authors: Ann Hunter
Colin grit his teeth and marched after him. He knew it wasn’t his place to tell the old man to leave the boy alone, but he had to do something, even if it was two-ply by distracting him with another offer. He flicked a coin and hit the livery master in the back of his bald head. The livery master’s sausage-like fingers rubbed his head, and he turned with a scowl.
Colin leaned against the open breezeway arch and folded his arms with his sack of coins clearly visible. “How about I give you the money, you give me a horse, and no one has to know? It wouldn’t be the first time straw was mysteriously spun in to gold.” Colin winked.
The livery master’s lips pursed. “That’s an old wive’s tale.”
“Is it now?”
The livery master was quiet. His chin quivered. “Yes.” He picked up the coin and pocketed it. “Now get out!”
Colin rolled his eyes and walked away, trying not to appear too dejected. He stood by the side of the road and wondered if there was any other way to Council’s Realm. A light breeze kicked up, and the crumpled paper with his image and the decree on it tumbled past. Colin sighed. He was going to have to walk. He might as well get moving while the day was young. He returned to his father’s cottage where he raided the larder for a small wheel of hardened cheese and a hunk of bread. He hadn’t thought he would need it before because his plans had been so different. Yet here he was hording the food in to a burlap sack like a pauper. He put his bag of coins in there as well to not attract attention to himself along the way. The King’s Road was well-maintained and patrolled, but it was still dangerous. He closed up the house and slipped the key into a pocket underneath his shirt. He headed back into town and followed the signs to Council’s Realm.
Colin covered nearly a solid league his first day. When dusk came, he took refuge in a small clearing of nearby trees. His feet ached. He wished he had stopped ten miles earlier when The Paladin’s Flask tavern had peeked over a hill. People laughed inside the warm orange glow of the place. The small smoking house in back was hard at work and made Colin’s stomach ache with hunger. He had paused to eat and wished he could go inside the place, but he was still within the northern territories and knew no help would be found, not even for the sake of his thirst. Guards patrolled the King’s Road sporadically and generally minded their own business as Colin walked along. He kept plodding on and now made camp with the aid of a flint and a small amount of tinder. He carefully rationed a portion of his bread and cheese and ate again. He curled on his side next to the fire and watched the flame dance. He thought about Glory and how the golden licks reminded him of her. Her warmth, her charm, the way her middle thinned and swayed like the flame…. Colin’s eyes drooped. He dreamt of his Glory. Of their Happily Ever After. They’d build a home somewhere together. He’d provide for them through his falconry trade, as well as plowing their own fields, and selling the produce of their land. If the gods were kind and saw fit, they would bless Colin and Glory with perfect blonde children who played in their home and snuggled close to their parents. Colin’s heart said he would be a good father with a rare hard hand, unlike his own father had.
Colin woke the next morning damp and chilled. He felt foolish for allowing the firelight to die during the night. He kicked dirt over the ashes and snuffed out the last of the embers and continued on his way. His day was uneventful. Occasionally a carriage would pass or another pilgrim on their way to this kingdom or that. Colin covered a little less today than he had the day before. His legs tired more easily and had started out stiff anyway that morning from not having moved much during the night. He retired early enough to set a few snares around his roadside camp. They could protect him or provide him a decent meal the following day on the other. His bread and cheese were running low. He put his back to a tree and a fire before him, keeping a hand close to his hunting knife. He managed to doze periodically while keeping watch.
In the morning, he doused the fire again and got on his way. A hare had found its way into one of his snares during the night. Colin thanked the gods for this bounty before sending the hare’s spirit to the After World and bagging its body. He would have a decent meal when the sun reached its highest point. He knew today would be a hard stretch. He felt compelled to make up the distance he didn’t travel the day before.
Colin grimaced when he came upon a fading sign that pointed the way to Council’s Realm a solid league away. A small knot formed in his stomach that the sign hadn’t been painted in a while. One of the nails was loose on a marker, and the sign hung limply. Some of the boards were cracking on the others. Colin looked down at the ground and noticed the road was a bit more broken here. Weeds overtook some of the stones. Rubble formed other stepping places. Colin looked around and couldn’t see a guard tower for miles. He reckoned he must be in the middle of the northern territories where the peaceful rulers under Balthazaar did not feel an expediency to guard the area as tightly.
Colin’s hand went to the hilt of his hunting knife to reassure himself. If Brigands were about, he would be ready. He steeled his courage and pressed on. The countryside was open here with miles of rolling hills and fields. Windmills turned slowly in the distance. Farms occasionally dotted the landscape. As he walked, Colin was glad it was not summer for there was little shade to be had in this stretch. His mind changed quickly, however, when silver clouds knit together and fattened with rain. He slogged through the chilly wetness and kept one foot in front of the other despite the tiny rocks of ice that pelted him in the spring storm. He found it amusing how the little white balls bounced off of the stony road and reminded himself to purchase a travelling cloak as soon as he reached Council’s Realm. He told himself what an idiot he was for being so ill-prepared. He had been so eager to chase after Glory that he hadn’t thought things through like he normally would have. He had spent years planning and saving for the moment they would run away together, and he could not even remember to bring so much as a hat or cloak!
Colin’s shoulders rose to his ears as he hunkered down under the hail. The storm got worse as he got closer to the middle of it. A forest appeared as he crested a hill. From this vantage, he could just make out Council’s Realm. He had to squint in the sheet of rain, but it was there. He only had to get through the forest. It would be a good respite from the storm, but he was sure other dangers lurked in its place. A shock of lightning struck a nearby fence post. Colin jumped. The forest was sounding like a better place to be than out in the open. He hurried toward it, lest he remain the tallest and most appealing thing for the lightning to strike next!
Once inside the forest, he stumbled more on the road. It was ill-kept here, overgrown with roots and vines that twisted and smashed stones in their unforgiving path. The rain fell more softly, however, buffeted by the towering firs and redwoods. Colin had to slow down and pick his way along carefully. He knew if he could get to the other side, that Council’s Realm would only be a few more hours of walking. He could be there by nightfall. His heart skipped a beat at the thought of a roaring fire at The Fox And Wolf Inn, hot food in his belly, and a bed to sleep in. He would willingly part with a gold coin or two for a luxury like that tonight!
Colin remembered the hare in his sack when he thought of the hot food. He convinced himself that if he continued for a few more miles, he would stop to enjoy it. The thickest part of the woods was nearly dark under the storm. Colin’s skin prickled. He kept a hand on his hunting knife. A rustle in the bushes made him turn. A squirrel darted out and scampered up a tree. Colin shook his head and breathed with relief. A young doe ahead snapped a branch. A crow dropped acorns on the stone road. Each made Colin jitter, but he shook it off until he finally noticed the forest getting lighter. The trees no longer grew together as thickly. Colin realized he was moving faster. The road was better maintained. Not much, but enough to really move again. He could make Council’s Realm out in the distance. He sighed and slumped down by the side of the road. He felt this was as good a place as any to enjoy the last of his bread and cheese and that lovely hare. Here he had shelter from the storm that was letting up. He could get warm and gain his second wind. He got a fire going and stoked it well before he skinned his kill and began roasting it. He gnawed on the hunk of bread as he waited for his meat to cook. When it was done, he enjoyed the hare with the last of his cheese. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back against a tree stump. The fire warmed his aching, wet bones. He listened to the rain slow to a gradual, serene drip. Birds began singing overhead. The air smelled so clean. Rich with the scent of moss and earth and pine needles.
Colin closed his eyes and thought of Glory. She would like this. His breathing slowed and deepened. She would like this very much. His muscles relaxed. His hands slipped from behind his head to his sides. His chin bent to his chest. A pop of the fire made him jump awake. He squeezed the bridge of his nose and blinked. His eyes grew heavy again. He couldn’t resist the lull of a brief nap. He would be back on the road shortly, he told himself. It would be alright. He was safe here. He could see Council’s Realm and guard towers and farms and houses and…
When Colin awoke, his head throbbed. He lay face down on the King’s Road not far from his snuffed-out fire. He touched his hair and felt it matted. He rubbed his fingers together in front of his eyes to see dark-red flakes fall. He pushed himself up slowly. What had happened? He looked toward Council’s Realm, but could only see from one eye. His other was swollen shut. He touched his nose and found a cut and a new path his bridge had not taken before. He groaned and laid back down on the ground for a moment. He turned to look toward the tree stump for his sack of belongings, but it was gone. The world spun. The stars in the night sky swirled.
Brigands!
Colin vomited into an ironberry bush.
His life savings—
gone
. Why hadn’t he kept moving when he realized he was nodding off? Why hadn’t he hidden his sack? He knew there was danger here. Colin wanted to pound his head against the King’s Road, but his head was already doing its fair share of pounding. He tilted his face toward the sky and bellowed. He stood in the middle of the King’s Road, breathing hard. His legs shook beneath him. He fixed his good eye on Council’s Realm and staggered toward it.
***
Glory slid her foot onto the edge of one of Blackthorn’s crenels. Glittering black rubble crumbled under her toes. Waves crashed against the cliffs nearby, and a salty breeze whipped her golden hair. She stared at the ground several stories below. Her lungs stretched and burned with the cold air, and her eyes narrowed. The gryphon had to be wrong. Colin was coming! Glory searched the horizon desperately.
“I would not do that if I were you.”
Her shoulders tensed. She did not need to turn to see it was the gryphon.
He probably thinks I am going to jump.
“It is a good thing that you are not me then.”
“Do you not value your life?”
“I value it, Gryphon, it is
you
I try to escape from.”
Glory heard him spread his wings and hiss, “You are foolish to think that this is the only way out.”
“What is the point of staying here if Colin has abandoned me and my,” Glory ground her teeth, the very words painful to her, “
husband
-to-be will not even look upon me? A month I’ve been here and your prince does not even wish to see me. Why does he not come?”
Glory glanced behind her to scowl at the gryphon, but lost her balance as more of the wall crumbled beneath her. The air cradled her. She shut her eyes to the world, accepting her inevitable fate. She pictured the ground racing up to meet her. The whistle of the air around her masked the screech of a gryphon above. Glory knocked into something warm and alive, breaking her fall. Jarred, her eyes opened in time to see the beat of wings and the ground rushing by. She tumbled through the damp grass, her teeth chattering. The air in her lungs surged out of her as she saw the gryphon barrel roll into the sunlight. Glory jumped to her feet and hammered her way toward the forest. The gryphon screeched. His tail snapped angrily around and his talons curled. Glory gasped, struggling for air, yet continued racing through the high, wild grasses. They clutched and snagged at her slippers. She kicked them off in desperation, wincing at the passing nettles and hard earth. The gryphon cried out again and Glory looked behind her once more. The great beast stretched out long and lean like an arrow, increasing his speed exponentially. Glory crashed through the trees, tripping over gnarled roots and wet leaves. She pressed herself against an ashen trunk and squeezed her eyes shut, as if doing so would afford her some level of invisibility to the gryphon’s keen eyes. She sensed his shadow above, the beat of cyclopean wings on air. Circling, circling. She swallowed hard and sucked in the frigid air. A gryphon’s scream echoed, then nothing. Silence. Glory’s eyes haltingly opened. A glint of sunlight, the forest coming back into focus. The snapping of a branch made her jump. She swung around to see a fat gray hare scurry by. Her thundering heart eased, and she sighed. She turned to make her way, hopefully, to Winterholme, but was overtaken by a massive shadow. Glory fell hard against the ground and stared up into the face of the gryphon. His ears were flat against his head. Glory took in a deep breath of wet earth and pungent, angry male.