FSE

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Chapter Fifty One

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By the time Mirelle and Kurekka reached the south gate, Chir’raal and Enora were already there. Enora was beyond the gate. A line of nervous soldiers watched her argue with a couple of va’chaak through the gateway. Chir’raal circled above them, beating black-barred wings in threatening display. As Kurekka came to a stop, Mirelle tried to listen to what Enora was saying. She grit her teeth in frustration. Enora was speaking va’chaak.

She really had to learn that language.

“Kurekka, don’t take this the wrong way…” Mirelle hopped off the gryphon. She brushed some dust off his neck feathers, and leaned in to whisper into his ear. “But please tell me she’s not out there secretly telling them how best to invade us.”

The gryphon swung his head around to glare at her, his beak half parted.

Mirelle reached out and cupped his beak in her hand, trying to take the gentle route rather than snatching a handful of feathers this time. “Look at my situation, Kurekka, look at what I’ve been through and what I’m facing. I’ve got a hostile army infiltrating my city, the leader of which claimed Enora was coming here to stage a coup. So spare me your dirty looks and angry glares, and try to understand why I have to take every precaution.”

The gryphon took a deep breath, and then let out a slow, hissing sigh. “No, no, you’re right. I understand. My va’chaak isn’t perfect but I’ll see if I can listen in for a moment.”

Mirelle smiled, brushing off a few more of his feathers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome…wait.” Kurekka gave a squawk, lifting his ears. “You’re trusting me on this?”

“Yes.” Mirelle tweaked the gryphon’s ear with her free hand. “Just like I trusted you not to hurl me to my death when we flew, and like I trusted you to help me fight the va’chaak. I took you at your word, and I’ll continue to do so…” She grimaced, poking him in the beak. “Because I don’t have a choice right now. You seem to genuinely want to make the best of this chance, so I’m trusting you to continue doing so.” She lifted her maul, shaking it at the gryphon. “So don’t make me put this in your head.”

Kurekka flicked his ears back, tilting his head in a half open-beak smirk. “Will do my best.”

Chir’raal landed and trotted up to his mate. They nuzzled one another, then preened sand from each other’s feathers. Kurekka swiveled his ears towards Enora and the two va’chaak she argued with. As he listened in, Chir’raal leaned over to whisper something into his mate’s ear, only for Kurekka to swat at him with a paw and hiss about how he was trying to eavesdrop.

While she had a chance, Mirelle took stock of the situation. The gate they were at had been the village’s largest, and most secure. But Aylaryl had burned the whole thing down. She’d incinerated the guard houses set up on both sides of the wall, and destroyed the large gate doors themselves. Which meant now they had to defend an open hole in the wall. People had worked hard to repair the damage to the wall itself, and had lashed together a sort of temporary gate out of logs. The new gate was partly suspended by a series of ropes and simple pulleys like a wooden portcullis.

Archers lined the small walkway build along the inside of the tall palisade ringing the city. A few more stood atop roofs now that the storm’s winds had abated. Some had arrows already nocked. Shops around the market area inside the gate were closed and locked up. Some had windows broken in the storm. Carts and stalls lay overturned in the streets, or broken into pieces. Chunks of siding and bits of roofing materials were scattered across the cobblestone. Dozens of soldiers stood in in the plaza, some of them lined up in a wall formation inside the gate, others waited in positions of cover. Another dozen men with pikes and swords sat atop horses that whinnied and stamped their hooves. Mirelle called over a few men she spotted with crossbows and longbows, and sent them to reinforce the line of infantry near the gate.

When Mirelle spotted a man with a captain’s insignia on his shoulders, she waved him over. The captain hurried to meet her. He was a bit portly, and barely fit inside his studded leather. He’d probably spent a few too many hours in the pub or behind a desk ever since he’d been promoted. Mirelle doubted he’d ever seen combat more serious than hunting down the occasional bandit camp. But a hardened determination shone in his eyes, and when he saluted her, his fist didn’t shake. She liked that.

“Ma’am!” He dropped his salute to gesture at the guards. “Defenses are set with everyone we can spare without compromising other locations. That gryphon showed up with a woman who said you’d sent her to negotiate, and she was outside before we could ask questions.”

“I did, but everyone needs to be ready for battle nonetheles. Kurekka and I…” She waved at the other gryphon. “Encountered several squads of va’chaak already in the city, likely infiltrating by scaling the palisade in quiet areas during the storm.”

The guard captain cursed and spat. “I could spare a few men to go-”

“No, we need to keep these gates secure. There are already defenses set around the fallback areas, they can handle a few rogue va’chaak groups if they have too. I don’t think there’s many inside the city, yet.” She pointed through the gate. Outside, countless va’chaak warriors milled about, banging weapons together and snarling. The sight set a chill deep into her heart, but she forced her voice to stay even. “How many are there out there?”

“I’d estimate at least a hundred.” The guard turned around to stare through the opening, his jaw set. “And I can’t say how many might be on the other side of the village, so I’ve got to assume at least as many. I think we have more men, over all, but they’ve got us spread out to try and protect the village. If they over run us in one location…”

When he trailed off, Mirelle set her hand on his shoulder. “I understand.” She pursed her lips, gazing around. “I don’t think there’s enough room for the horsemen to maneuver here, and I don’t think riding out into the midst of the va’chaak by themselves is anything but suicide.” She inclined her head towards the larger, more open plaza beyond the main gate entryway. Banners crisscrossed it. “What the mounted soldiers back there, where they’d have room to maneuver their horses and run through any va’chaak formations that start to develop after they’re in the plaza?”

The captain rubbed his stubbly chin. “Could work, but the lizards could just slip down the side streets and alleys, encircle the cavalry or avoid them together.”

“Right…right.” Mirelle turned a circle to gaze around. “What if we blocked off those alleys? For that matter, I want someone ready to cut those gate ropes.”

“If those support ropes are cut, the gate’s gonna be stuck in the earth.”

“That’s the point, captain.”

“Fair enough.” He folded his arms. “How would we block off the alleys?”

“Pile up all the storm debris, and have the gryphons tear down some of these buildings damaged by the storm. Half of them are going to need to be built anew anyway so we may as well use them to funnel our enemies into our blades. We need to be the ones encircling them, not the other way around.” She went quiet, waiting for the guard captain to reply. When he didn’t, she spoke up again, her voice softened. “This is my first time planning a battle, Captain. If I’m only coming up with nonsense, by all means, tell me.”

The captain shook his head. “Not the worst idea I’ve had. But don’t block off everything. Leave the narrow alleys open, and set archers on the roofs, swordsmen in the buildings around them. Funnel ‘em through as much death as possible, and have the cavalry ready beyond.” He swept his hand at the line of men and archers already set up inside the gate. “And that’s for those who get past the first line of defense.”

“And those who get past him.” Mirelle pointed Kurekka. “Make it happen, and send a horseman across town to instruct men at the north gate to do the same thing.”

The captain went to pass on the new orders to the rest of his men, and soon troops were shifting positions, and piling debris up to make some of the side streets harder to pass through. Mirelle slipped past them, her maul on her shoulder as she walked up alongside the gryphons. She patted Chir’raal’s shoulder, then rubbed one of his ears when he turned his head towards her.

“How’d you like to break a buncha stuff?”

The gryphon cocked his head, ears up. “Sounds like fun.”

“Good.” Mirelle pointed to buildings with crumbled walls, or ceilings shorn away. “Tear those down into the side streets. The idea here is to make those streets impassable so we can funnel the va’chaak.” She put a hand on his beak as soon as he opened it to stop him from cutting her off. “Yes, I know some of them will clamber over walls and piles of debris, anyway. But the more we slow them down, the more our archers can pick them off, and the fewer there will be to battle against our soldiers and cavalry.”

“Smash stuff real good. Got it.”

“When you’re done there, get to the north gate and do the same thing. And then fly a few circles around the area, let them know you’re on our side.”

Chir’raal ruffled his wings. “Oooh, I do like intimidating people.”

“Smash stuff first, intimidate second.” Mirelle glanced back and forth between the two gryphons. “And if it comes to war, I want you two to strike their rear.” She smirked, waggling a finger. “No jokes. Just fly out there, and start tearing up the back of their formations. Give them something else to worry about, so we can divide their attention. And if you see a shot at any of their commanders or war chiefs or whatever va’chaak have, you take it.”

“Understood.” Chir’raal clicked his beak, then turned away, buffeting his mate with his feathered tail. “Time for my Revaramek impression!” He bound up a side street, pushing aside a guard. “Out of the way! I’ll do the smashing here!” Then he gave a keening cry filled with entirely too much glee, and started tearing down a wall.

“Kurekka, do the va’chaak have projectile weapons? Bows or anything?” Mirelle gestured at his underbelly. “How vulnerable will you two be flying over them?”

Kurekka shrugged his wings. “More so than I’d like, but not terribly. They use bows and slings for hunting more than war. I think they prefer hand to hand combat, but I’m sure they’ve brought ranged weaponry.”

“Be watchful then. I’ll find someone to see if they can scrounge up anything we could strap underneath you for some protection, just in case.” She turned towards the gate again, staring through the opening. Enora was waving a hand at the taller of the two va’chaak she argued with. She looked angry. “So, have you learned anything?”

“Enora’s trying to convince them it’s in their best interest to negotiate with you. Peaceful restitutions and land resettlements, rather than conquest.” Kurekka opened a wing, and curled it around Mirelle to pull her closer. “The problem is, if I’m translating correctly, is that those are the voices of different tribes. And the different tribes don’t always see eye to eye.”

Mirelle watched the two va’chaak for a moment. One was green, with some gray and red patches. The other was taller, and his black scales were mottled with the color of wet ash. Both wore armor hewn from bone, with elaborate charms carved from animal skulls hanging around their necks.

“They look familiar.” Mirelle grimaced when she realized why. “They’re Asterbury’s minions, aren’t they.”

“Not how I was going to put it. Asterbury cares for them. They’re friends to him, I think.” Kurekka cocked his head, clicking his beak. “The one on the left is called Rekrek. The other is Gavak, I believe.”

“They act like minions.” Mirelle rested the head of her maul on the ground, leaning against it. “I’ve seen them before. They were with him when he attacked the other village, where we first fought Aylaryl. They were singing his theme song.”

Kurekka warbled, ears up. “He has a theme song?”

“Yeah. Now Rev wants one too.” She smiled, but a twinge of heartache squeezed her chest. Gods, she hoped he was alright. Mirelle turned away from the gate to look up at the strange platform revealed after the storm’s collapse. It floated above the hill, and she glimpsed green scales. Revaramek was up there. What was he doing, negotiating? Though she still wanted to be by his side, she turned her attention back to the threat at hand. “You said the taller one is called Gavak?”

“If I heard correctly, yes. They’re both sort of like Asterbury’s lieutenants, best I can tell. Their tribes used to fight each other, but after Asterbury saved them from a plague sweeping their part of the marsh, they’ve been more united behind him. And since those two are closest to Asterbury, they’ve gained leadership roles as the voices of their people. Their tribes listen to them, and if Asterbury’s not around anymore…” He waved his paw at the two va’chaak arguing with Enora. “Those are the two their warriors will follow next.”

“Perfect.” Mirelle folded her arms, scowling. “Gavak’s the one who worries me most.”

Kurekka canted his head, ruffling his crown feathers. “Why?”

“Because he’s the one I stabbed in the chest with a knife.”

“Oh…” Kurekka gave a low warble, gesturing with his beak. “This is mostly Rekrek’s tribe out here. Gavak came here to talk with Enora, but most of his tribe is gathered at the other gate. Rekrek seems more amicable to negotiating, but only if Asterbury backs it. Gavak wants the village unless Asterbury himself comes down here and tells them to lay down their arms.”

Mirelle rubbed her face, glancing back towards the hill, shaded by the floating dais. “I dunno what Rev’s doing, but somehow I doubt it’s convincing Asterbury to tell them to surrender. What happens if Rekrek tells his people to negotiate, but Gavak doesn’t?”

Kurekka gave a worried murmur, ruffling his wings. “Then we defend your city.” He preened his wing, then spat a feather. “And hope the other tribe doesn’t change its mind when it sees va’chaak dying to your people all over again.”

Outside the gate, Gavak’s voice continued to rise. He gestured with a curved knife at Enora, then at Rekrek, and then towards the opening in the gate, where Mirelle and Kurekka were.

“That doesn’t look good.”

“He is…asking Rekrek if he plans to betray his people, and his friends, just like…” He ground his beak, then snorted. “I am. Like Enora is. She’s…trying to explain she wants to avoid bloodshed…and…he is…insisting that the only way to do that is for…you to surrender your city.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Mirelle took a deep breath, glancing at the guards and the other gryphon. They were working as fast as they could to block off some of the streets. “Go out there, and make a show of yourself. And tell Enora to focus on Rekrek. If we can get his tribe to back off, that’s half our problem solved. Actually…I think I need to join her. She knows them, but I can make concrete offers. I’m the leader, so…” She took a deep breath, calling out to Kurekka’s mate. “Chir’raal!” She beckoned him over.

Chir’raal trotted over from a half-demolished storefront. He panted through his open beak. “Tearing down buildings is harder than I expected!”

“Slight change of plans.” She thrust her finger at the gate. “You and Kurekka get out there and back up Enora. Look really menacing. I want Rekrek and Gavak to know whose side you’re on, let them that whole tribe see you flashing your talons and your beak. When you’re done, make a deal out of telling Enora I demand to see her, so they know I’m in charge.” She turned and pointed across town. “Then get over to the other big gate, and scare the hell out of Gavak’s tribe. If they’re determined to bring this to war, they need to know what it’s going to cost them.”

The two gryphons glanced at each other, then back at Mirelle. Chir’raal smiled. “We can do that.”

“Good.” Mirelle stroked one of Kurekka’s ears in appreciation. “After that, I need you back here, Kurekka. I want to ride you out there for negotiations. The more control and power we can project, the better our odds of ending this with the least amount of violence. Or so I hope. Chir’raal, when Kurekka comes back, you stay over there. Help them block off the streets and alleys, and defend that gate if you must.” She thrust a finger at the sky. “Go!”

The two gryphons took off together, soaring over the outer wall. They circled above the gathered va’chaak with loud, keening cries, beating their wings just above the lizards’ heads. Some of the assembled warriors scrambled out of the way, others pointed at them, snarling angry words. Just beyond the makeshift gate, Enora gestured at them as they landed. Hopefully she was proclaiming them to be on the city’s side. Mirelle forced herself not to think too hard about the fact this could all blow up in her face if the three of them had some secret plan with Asterbury to just let the va’chaak stroll into town.

Mirelle rubbed clammy palms together, then wiped them off on her blouse. She glanced down at herself, holding back a bittersweet laugh. Nothing like preparing to lead a battle in your street clothes. She wished she had armor, but it wasn’t as though she kept a spare suit of plate mail in her closet. Until recently, she’d never seen any kind of real battle, either. She’d had a few lessons alongside Beka, but that hardly counted as combat.

When Mirelle spotted a few men and a woman standing guard near a shop off the central plaza, she scowled. They certainly weren’t soldiers, but at least they were all armed. One man held a large woodcutting axe, another what looked like a blacksmith’s hammer, and the woman wielded a short sword. Must have been ready to defend their business. She waved them over, along with a spare soldier.

The woman approached her first, looking ready for argument. “If you’re gonna try and order us to take shelter somewhere and abandon-”

“I’m going to say I’m proud of you for taking up arms, and hopeful it won’t come to needing your help.” She faltered a moment, then chuckled. “But then I realized I need your help.” She patted the soldier on the arm. “See if you can help this man scrounge up anything we can strap to the gryphons’ bellies to help protect them. And if you happen upon any kind of armor that might fit me, bring it.” The people glanced at each other, and Mirelle waved them off. “Go!”

Outside the wall, the gryphons returned to the sky. They circled a few times before they streaked across the city to the other gate. Mirelle shaded her eyes, watching them shoot by. She dropped her hand when she saw Enora approaching. Enora still had her goggles propped upon her head. Mirelle smiled, about to remind her when she realized her own pair were still seated above her eyes, too.

“What’s the outlook?” Mirelle approached the older woman, folding her arms.

“I think we can sway Rekrek.” Enora glanced over her shoulder. The two va’chaak were now arguing amongst themselves. “I’m not sure about Gavak. They both lost ancestors to the original colonization, but…I think Rekrek would be happy to see his people get what they want without losing anyone. But he wants to hear what Asterbury says.”

Mirelle grit her teeth. “Of course he does. And Gavak?”

“Gavak is…angry.” She rubbed her eyes, sighing. “He thinks they should be allowed to take this place by force, for the sake of his ancestors’ righteous justice. Gavak also feels that the gryphons and I have betrayed his people by trying to help you. And he doesn’t like that Rekrek is more open to a negotiated solution, so those two things have just made him angrier. Maybe I could get Asterbury to…” She trailed off, nudging her boot against a pile of sand.

Mirelle put a hand on Enora’s shoulder, gently squeezing. “I know this is hard for you, I know they’re all your friends. So firstly, thank you for helping me try to end this peacefully.”

“I’m not doing it for you.”

“I know, and I’m trying to thank you on behalf of all the lives you might be saving. On both sides.” Mirelle squeezed her shoulder again, then pulled her back. “Secondly, do you really think you could get Asterbury to come down here and negotiate a peaceful solution that doesn’t involve us surrendering our city to them?” Mirelle waved at all the sand still drifting through the streets. Broken windows and damaged roofs surrounded them. “I’m not being sarcastic, I’m asking a genuine question. Now that he’s made his point, do you honestly think Asterbury would help negotiate something both sides can live with? Or would he just decide to blast us out of the way with his powers for his va’chaak friends to storm in?”

Enora sighed, her shoulders sagging. “I…I don’t know. A week ago, I would have said yes, but now…whatever thread Aylaryl’s been pulling, whatever the images in that book awoke in him…I’m not sure it can be put back to sleep this time.”

“Then we’d damn well better hope whatever Rev has in mind is going to work.”

A smile twitched at the corners of Enora’s mouth. “He didn’t tell you either, hmm?”

Mirelle shook her head. “No he didn’t.” She turned and shaded her eyes, staring up at the platform hovering above the hill. Just as she spotted Revaramek, near the edge of it, the whole thing lurched forward. “What the hell? Now what’s that furry nutjob doing?”

“I’ve no idea.” Enora stood alongside her, watching as the strange, floating dais drifted over the city. Before long, it cast its shadow across the va’chaak horde, spawning murmurs of confusion and discontent. Then, with indigo lightning crackling all around it, the ruin-cobbled platform sped off towards the southwest horizon. “It looks as if negotiating with Asterbury is off the table for now, anyway.”

“So it would seem.” Mirelle’s stomach twisted, recoiling from the trickle of nervous ice feeding into it. Gods, she hoped Revaramek knew what he was doing. He seemed awfully sure he wasn’t coming back. An idea formed itself in the back of her mind, a dark cloud threatening a coming storm. She cringed, and put her face in her hand. “If Rev’s plan works, they won’t be coming back.”

“What…what do you think they’re doing?” A note of whimpering uncertainty crept into Enora’s voice.

“I don’t know. Maybe Rev’s just trying to get him somewhere he can fight him, without damaging the city. Hold his own long enough for that…lightning thing to…” She circled her hand in the air as Enora’s eyes went wide. Mirelle grit her teeth. “It doesn’t matter. We have to use this as an opportunity. Whether we negotiate or fight, we do it while Asterbury’s not here to help.”

Enora turned away, taking a few steps back towards the gate. “Gavak and his entourage are leaving in a hurry.”

“What?” Mirelle jogged over to Enora’s side, then pushed past her to peer out the gate. The black and gray lizard was trotting past the larger group, along with a half dozen other burly va’chaak. He was shouting things at them as he passed. Some of them snarled back, or beat a fist to their chest, others looked away. “What’s he saying?”

“I can’t quite make it out.” Enora moved up alongside her. “Something about Rekrek’s people being too afraid to fight for their ancestral homes and sacred lands. It sounds like he’s taking Asterbury’s departure as a sign that he’s in charge, now.”

“Shit.” Mirelle turned back inside. “We all know where this is going.”

“Ma’am!” The nearest archer called out. “I have a shot at the taller leader when he passes…do I take it?”

Mirelle hesitated. Part of her wanted to have the archer put Gavak down now, just to send his tribe into disarray. But if she had an arrow put in his throat in front of Rekrek’s tribe even after calling for negotiations, she knew she’d lose any high ground she held. If anything, it might drive them into attacking before she even had a chance to speak to them.

“Let him go.” After the archer nodded in acceptance, Mirelle called the captain back over and leaned in to speak softly. “I think this is about to get bad. I may be able to prevent them from attacking us here…” She gestured at the va’chaak beyond the gate. “But those on the other side are out for blood. Send word to have that gate and its surrounding area reinforced. Take men from elsewhere if you need too. If it comes to war, take prisoners if and when you can, but they’re bringing this fight to us, so worry about our people first.”

“Understood, Ma’am.”

The captain hurried off, and Mirelle gazed around. Every passing moment, her belly tightened further, breath was harder to squeeze into her lungs. The weight of every decision she might ever make weighed against her shoulders, pressing her towards the ground. A thousand questions swirled in her uncertain mind. Was she making the right choices? Were her orders sound? If it came to war, could they win? Could she work harder to avoid bloodshed? Was she truly cut out for this job? She took a deep breath, balling up her fists. Whether or not she was truly the right person for the job was meaningless, because right now, protecting this city was her job. Knowing people would live or die by her orders was a terrifying prospect, but she would not shirk from it. All she could do was make the best decisions she could, moment to moment.

Wing beats overhead snapped her from her reverie. She glanced up and saw Kurekka returning. He spiraled over the city with a low, keening cry. The gryphon swept across the plaza, dropping to his paws nearby. Mirelle waved him over, and as he approached, she walked around him, brushing lingering traces of sand from his feathers. He gave her an odd look, and she returned it with a smile.

“I might not get another chance, so…I want to thank you.” She put a hand to his beak to stop him from cutting her off. “You don’t have to tell me you’re not doing it for me. As long as you’re willing to risk your life on behalf of the innocent people of this city, then I want to thank you for doing the right thing. If we get through this, this city will be your home, too.”

Kurekka glanced away, ruffling his feathers. “For what it’s worth, if you care, I’m doing it for Chir’raal. His family lived here, he’s…always felt…” He waved a paw, hissing. “Betrayed, I suppose, by the people who took this land. His family cooperated with the first settlers…only to be slain by the next wave, when he was chased away. Raiding…some small part of him liked getting back at those people. But things only got worse for him when I was shot down. You’ll never hear him say it, but he still thinks about his ancestry. They lived here ages past, and I’d like him to be able to live here, himself. I think that would make his parents, and their elders happy, wherever they are.”

“What about yours?”

Kurekka hissed under his breath, glancing away. “Never mind about them. I was happy enough being a wanderer, but…” He splayed the feathers of a wing. “I think after almost losing this, I was done raiding anyway. I might enjoy city life, even if it’ll make me soft.”

Mirelle wondered a moment about the gryphon’s family, and then let the topic slip away. Now was hardly the time. “Let’s hope if we survive today, we can all go soft together. Is your lover still at the other gate?”

“Yes, helping to block off the streets, as asked.” Kurekka folded his wing back, ruffling himself. “Gavak’s tribe is getting very agitated.”

“I know.” Mirelle inclined her head towards the va’chaak outside. “I’m going to ride you out there, and talk to Rekrek’s tribe. I’m hoping we could use the nutter’s absence to talk them down, and then we’ll only have to stop Gavak’s people.”

“Right, let’s go then.” Kurekka dropped to his belly.

“Lady Mirelle!” The woman from the shop ran across the plaza, carrying a heavy armful of armor and padding. “I think this might fit you! It won’t be perfect, and if you’re not used to wearing armor, it will-”

“If it makes me safer I’ll deal with the discomfort. What have you got?” Mirelle patted Kurekka’s head, asking for a moment of patience, then set her maul down and turned to meet the other woman.

“It’s just studded leather, but it was fitted for a woman about your stature, and it’s well worn, so it won’t be too stiff. Bit old, but it’s been very well maintained.” The woman dropped her armful of armor. “Afraid all I’ve got is a cuirass, and gauntlets, though. It belongs to a lady who used to serve as a combat instructor. She’s gotten a bit on in age, though, and so-”

Mirelle waved off the life story of the armor’s owner. “That’s all fine and good.” If the woman was willing, maybe Mirelle would ask her for lessons if they survived all this. “Can you help me put it on?”

The woman picked up something that looked like a heavy, padded cloth vest. “This goes on first.” She helped Mirelle wriggle into it, and then lifted the cuirass. It was very dark brown leather, with layers of bronze studs. As she aided Mirelle in tugging it on, she glanced at the gryphon. “We’ve found some things we can strap to them, too.”

“Good.” Mirelle squirmed her way through the armor, shifting it into place against her shoulders.

“Some old cookware, some spare metal armor plates, some bits of wooden fencing, just whatever we could scrounge up to help protect them.” The woman picked up the matching gauntlets, and pulled one up onto Mirelle’s hand. “And some soup pots with two handles we might be able to strap onto their-”

Kurekka squawked and flared up his red crown feathers. “I am not wearing a soup pot as a helmet!”

“Actually, it’s for your…” The woman picked up the other gauntlet.

“Yes, I know what it’s for.” Mirelle smirked at the gryphon, holding out her hand.

“It’s to protect his…” She tugged the gauntlet onto Mirelle’s arm, waving her other hand. “You know, his…”

“Yes, thank you.” Mirelle flexed her fingers, then made a fist before swinging her arms about, testing her armor.

“His…” The woman lowered her voiced, whispering. “His potatoes.”

Kurekka squawked again. “My what?”

Mirelle sighed, shaking her head. “Your balls, Kurekka. The soup pot’s for your balls.”

“I’m not wearing that there!”

“You’d rather take an arrow in them, then?”

“I’ll wear the soup pot.” Kurekka flattened his ears. “Assuming any of that junk even fits.” He glanced at the gate. “If you plan to talk to them before we have to go face Gavak’s tribe, you’d better do it now.”

Mirelle nodded, and clapped the woman on the shoulder. “Thank you for your help! If you can get enough straps and things to try and armor up the gryphons, we’ll give it a shot if we get time.” She picked up her maul and clambered onto Kurekka’s back.

The gryphon twisted his head around to glare at her. “I’m not sure I like how you make threats to important parts of my anatomy, and then tell me you’ll protect them if you have time.”

“You said it yourself.” Mirelle settled near his shoulders, working her body around to try and get used to the armor. The leather creaked. “It might not fit. And…so far my own experience with armor is that isn’t the most comfortable thing. More of a, ‘wear during worst case scenarios only’ sort of thing.”

“I’d call going into battle worst case.”

“You never wore any armor when you used to raid.” She leaned forward and tweaked a few red crown feathers.

“And look where that got me.” Kurekka trotted towards the gate, clacking his beak. “Granted, I’m not exactly keen on the idea of being strapped up with plates and cookware. Though I’m certain nothing intimidates an enemy legion like a gryphon with his balls in a soup pot.”

“Enora!” Mirelle waved her over, her maul across the gryphon’s back. “I’m going out there now, and I need you to translate. Loudly.”

Enora pursed her lips, then nodded. “Very well.”

Mirelle rode Kurekka over to the captain, then leaned over. “I want all the archers to pick targets and have an arrow nocked but not drawn. I don’t want my negotiation attempt ruined because someone gets nervous or their arms get tired. And I want the two archers nearest the gate to both target RekRek. That’s the leader Enora was talking to. If the worst happens, I want him to go down first. Other than that, no one fires unless I give the order, or they attack us. Obviously if Kurekka…” She patted the gryphon, then pointed at Enora. “Or any of us are attacked, every arrow we have better damn well fly out there. And if I go down…” She gulped, her heart tightening. “You’re in charge here, and defense of the city is the highest priority. Authority after me passes to Councilwoman Nell, but none of that matters if the city falls.”

The captain nodded, and reached out to squeeze her gauntlet covered forearm. “Understood. Good luck, Ma’am.”

Mirelle sat up straighter on Kurekka’s back. “Let’s go. Slow pace, so Enora can stay alongside us. And…open your wings up. Look big. Glare at them, maybe some hissing. Seem angry.”

“Yes, thank you for the coaching, instructor.”

As Kurekka slipped through the opening in the makeshift gate, Mirelle took a deep breath. She held it as long as she could. Enora followed them out. Kurekka stretched out his red-brown wings, displaying the long, scarlet flight feathers that edged them. Enora took a place just beyond his right wing tip. The gryphon moved towards the gathered va’chaak with long, purposeful strides. Muscles rolled beneath Mirelle’s body. Once outside the walls, the countless number of va’chaak massed outside the gate seemed ten times more intimidating. She let her breath out in a slow, deep exhalation.

Again, she wondered what the hell she’d gotten herself into. Surely, there was someone better for this job than her. She’d never planned a battle, she’d never negotiated with an enemy army. She’d shouted down councilmembers, but that wasn’t exactly the same thing. Could she really handle this? She had so many people relying on her now, what if she failed? What if she was wrong?

Mirelle set her jaw, and forced herself to swallow back her fear. It didn’t matter if she was the right person for this, or not. She was the one this task had fallen too, and all she could do now was her best. Revaramek believed in her enough to elevate her to this position, and if a story-obsessed dragon with a golden heart thought she could this, then damn it, she could do this.

If only she could convince her racing heart and her swirling thoughts of the same.

Rekrek approached her, now wielding an elaborate spear made almost entirely of bone. The haft was a single long piece, maybe from a dragon’s femur. The point of it resembled the sharp tooth of a dragon, only larger, and honed to a finer point. Small animal skulls were lashed around it, along with the claws and teeth of various beasts.

The va’chaak himself wore even more armor than the first time she’d seen him, also hewn from the bones of various beasts. It covered much of his dark, green-scaled body. A few golden spots and crimson patches still peeked out here and there, and decorated his muzzle. More animal skulls and elaborately carved charms adorned his necklaces. He glared at her as he came to a stop near the gryphon, his little frills standing up.

While Rekrek leaned on his spear and tried to burn a hole through her with his smoldering gaze, Kurekka twisted his head around to glance back. Enora stared up at her. All the other va’chaak warriors stared at her, too. A few murmured and snarled, most waited in silence for her to speak.

It hit Mirelle like a slap across the face that she had no idea what she was going to say. Her mouth went dry as she struggled for words. What did she do when she went to speak before the council, before they’d ever made her a member? Usually she just opened her mouth, let her heart guide the words that fell out, and hoped for the best.

Why break that streak now?

Mirelle leaned towards the va’chaak, her voice low. “How do you pronounce your name?”

“Wh-what?” The va’chaak blinked at her, seemingly caught off guard just like she’d hoped. “It’s Rekrek. Wreck-wreck.”

“Thank you.” She smiled at him, and then straightened up, glancing at Enora. “You’ll translate, right? I want them all to hear.”

Enora nodded, and moved to take up a place where she could call out to the entire gathered tribe.

Mirelle sat up as straight as she could, her maul hefted in a single hand. “My name is Mirelle!” She swung her maul back towards the village. “I am this town’s leader! The Council you all grew up hating is gone, abolished!” Mirelle lowered her maul again. “There’s only me now. And as this town’s leader, today I have been faced with the dissolution of my city’s entire governing body, a furious demi-god’s magical sandstorm that tore my town apart, and two powerful va’chaak tribes gathered to spill my peoples’ blood!” She took a deep breath while Enora translated, and chuckled to herself. “And it’s my first day on the job.”

To Mirelle’s pleasant surprise, scattered laughter broke out amongst the va’chaak.

“I withstood the crumbling of the city’s leadership by taking up that mantle myself! The burden of keeping every life here safe is now mine to bear!” She glanced down at Rekrek, gesturing at his tribe. “We share that burden now, Rekrek.”

Then she called out again. “I have survived Asterbury’s storm, and I have emerged stronger for it! Asterbury is gone!” She thrust her maul at the sky, tracing a line across it. “Will he return? Maybe, maybe not. My…” She faltered a moment. “My friend, Revaramek…” Taking another breath, she forced strength back into her voice. “He had a plan to take Asterbury out of the fight. Whether he succeeds, none of us can yet know! But the fact remains, Asterbury is gone, your guardian is gone. Whatever powers and protections you expected to rely upon when you stormed this village, you no longer have. All that’s left now is blood. Yours, and ours, and if you attack my home, I promise you, that blood will spill. It will flow in the streets, and most of us will die. For what?” She swung her maul back at the council hill. “For a hill? I know it is sacred to you, but is it worth the end of your tribe?”

Some of the va’chaak called things out. Mirelle didn’t need Enora to translate, she had the general idea already.

“If you try to take this town by force, you won’t have a tribe left to give that hill back to. Even if you conquer us, your victory will be so costly, that hill will only serve as burial ground. And that is if you succeed! Which you will not!” She lifted her voice, calling out. “I say again, Asterbury is gone! And you do not have the luxury of waiting to see if he returns! I have an army inside these walls, and they are as ready for blood as you! Only I hold them back now. You think I’m going wait to see if your protector comes back? If Asterbury does return, it will either be to Rekrek and I sitting around a negotiating table, bringing you back to your lands peacefully…or it will be to your bloody ruin.”

Mirelle idly stroked Kurekka’s feathers while Enora translated. When the gryphon glanced back at her, she shrugged, silently asking how she was doing. He gave her a little grin and clicked his beak. She hoped that meant she was doing well.

“You sound awfully sure of yourself, girl.” Rekrek thumped his spear against the ground. “How do you know-”

“How many warriors have you got?” Mirelle snapped, her voice like thunder as she cut him off. Inside, her heart pounded a frantic beat, but outside, she was deadly calm. “A hundred? Two hundred? I don’t think you’ve that many, but let’s say you do. Let’s say Gavak has the same. I’ve a thousand people ready and armed in there, at the least. In your best case, that’s more than double what you’ve got.”

“You ain’t got that many soldiers.” Rekrek snarled.

“Soldiers? No.” Mirelle shook her head. “But I’ve got at least as many soldiers as you’ve got warriors, and behind the soldiers, I’ve a thousand more people prepared to protect their homes.”

The lizardman thumped his spear again, the little skulls rattling. “You think your townsfolk scare us?”

“I think you should be scared of anyone cornered and defending their home.” Mirelle raised her voice again, calling out across the tribe, forcing Enora to raise her own voice as well. “Because that is what this is! It is our home. And everyone here is ready to fight for it! Every single person in this town will fight you, to the death, to protect their homes, and their families! You may think farmers and innkeepers little threat, but deer also seem like little threat until you corner one and find its hoof in your throat! We outnumber you five to one, at the least! My archers-” Mirelle thrust a finger back at them. “Will pick off at least two of you per archer before you even reach this gate. If you’ve a hundred warriors here, that’s well over a quarter of your force lost before you’ve even breached my walls. You’ll lose half of what’s left before you’ve even passed through the entry plaza. It’ll be the same for Gavak’s tribe. You’ll have lost half your army just getting inside this city. And that’s without even considering how many you’ll lose to my friend here.” She leaned forward, her armor creaking as she pet Kurekka’s head. “Some of you know him. Some of you know his mate. You’ve all seen them, and you’ve all seen whose side they’re on. They don’t want to fight you any more than I do, but force his hand and he will tear your army asunder!”

Kurekka gave a low, angry sound, a cross between a cornered cat and a furious eagle.

“How many of you do you think two gryphons can slay?” Mirelle lifted her weapon, and gestured with it in a low, sweeping arc across the whole tribe. “How many of you do you think will even make it past the gate, with arrows raining down upon you, and gryphons swooping through the skies, tossing you around like brittle toys? And then what? Maybe you’ll survive just long enough to be trampled by our cavalry, or cut down by our armored brigades. If you make far enough into the city, you’ll find yourselves overwhelmed by yes, townsfolk. Sure, you may laugh to yourselves at the idea of merchants with cudgels and cooks with kitchen knives and stable boys with pitchforks. But I assure you, you won’t be laughing when there’s five of them surrounding every one of you, and that pitchfork is in your belly!”

Mirelle took a deep breath, let her words settle in, and when Enora’s translations had finished, she cried out louder than ever. “You enter that city, and I promise you, you will die. You’ll have nothing to give back to your tribe but grief, the same grief that brings you to our walls, demanding our blood! Yes, you will kill many, many of us! But is that worth the end of your tribe?”

“You steal first!” An angry va’chaak in the crowd called out in the common tongue, clearly wanting her to understand. “You take land! You kill! Kill many! We take back!”

“Yes! We did, and that was wrong! Very, very, wrong! And though that was long before I was born, I am sorry!” Mirelle thought it important for the va’chaak to hear someone in charge offer an apology, words they likely never expected to hear. “I am sorry it happened! I am sorry we did that to you! We should never have taken your lands or slain your people. For that, I am sorry!”

Mirelle let Enora translate, but picked right back up before anyone else could shout out. “But no one in this city did that! No one alive today had anything to do with that, just as none of you were alive then! Taking out your ancestors’ grief and fury upon innocent people will solve nothing! It will only perpetuate the cycle of hatred and violence. A cycle I want to break, but I cannot do so without your help. I want peace! Peace for us, for the va’chaak, for dragons, for gryphons! I want you all to be welcome! To be welcome here…” She swung her maul again, indicating all the marshy land around the village. “On these lands, in these marshes! And welcome there!” She thrust a finger at the city. “In our city! In our taverns, in our streets, in our homes! I want you to build homes here, to be a part of this city! And I want to give you back that hill. I think it means more to you than it does to us, and so I want it to be yours.”

When Enora translated, a stunned silence settled over most of the va’chaak. A few murmured, a few more snarled, but most of them just stared at her. Even Rekrek took a step back, staring up at her in disbelief. Truth was, Mirelle hadn’t planned to offer that, but her heart spoke before her brain could consider the words that spilled out of her. May as well run with it.

“I want this town, these lands, to be yours as much as ours! I want to rectify the mistakes of our predecessors, not see them repeated. Because if you attack us now, that is all you are doing! Committing the same crimes our people once committed against you. This place has become our home, the only home almost everyone here has ever known. To murder us and take that home away is exactly what was once done to you. That only repeats the cycle I want to end!”

“You say that as if you expect us to trust you!” Rekrek snarled at her, stepping forward again. “What guarantees do we have-”

“What guarantees do I have that if I let you into my city peacefully you won’t turn against us?” She waited just long enough for the translation, and as an offended look crossed the va’chaak’s face, she called out again. “None! I have no guarantees, only trust! Trust that somewhere in your heart, you want peace as much as I do! Because that is what I want, peace! But it has to start somewhere. It has to start with a willingness to trust even your enemy when the moment calls for it.”

Kurekka lifted his head, ruffling his feathers. “Many of you know me! You know this town once shot me out of the sky, and yet, I have come to trust this woman!”

His words made her smile. She stroked his ear. “He speaks the truth! Long before my time, our old council did shoot this gryphon down. His mate and he had a chance to take their revenge upon me, and instead, they chose trust!” For now, she’d leave out the part about blackmail. “I put the same trust in them to carry me here safely, and now we fight together! I have offered Kurekka and Chir’raal citizenship within this town, upon these lands. I will extend the same offer to all gryphons! To all peoples! All it takes is trust, and belief. Trust and belief in the simple ideal that this place…”

She rested her maul across Kurekka’s back, holding her hands up. “That this world, so nearly stolen away, can be so much more! It can be a place of unity, for everyone who finds themselves here! Va’chaak, humans, gryphons, dragons, urd’thin…everyone! They should all be welcome here, and so long as I am in charge, they will be! That is my ideal! That is what I fight for! It started with these gryphons, and it can continue with you. I say right here and now, you will all be welcome! But only if lay down your weapons.”

Mirelle spread out her empty hands. “I will not yield my city at spear point. I will not let you stomp upon my ideals to perpetuate your cycle. Attack us and lose, and if I live, I will still negotiate with your survivors. But then it starts with bitterness, with anger, with blood. Lay your arms down, and let it start with trust, instead.”

Mirelle took a few slow breaths, and ran her hands down her face as Enora finished translating. The gathered warriors rumbled and murmured amongst themselves. Some of them still seemed to want blood, while others argued with them, pointing at Mirelle. A few more stared at their own weapons as if suddenly unsure.

Rekrek drummed his fingers against his spear. “You make it sound like such an easy choice, as if we’ll walk into your city and everyone will run out to hug us. As if we want to be part of your city.”

“I know it will not be easy.” Mirelle spoke to Rekrek, but lifted her voice high enough for everyone to hear it. “For you, or for us.” She thrust a finger at Rekrek, sneering. “You and I both know what happened the first time we met. Aylaryl wrecked half that town, and you conquered the rest of it. I don’t know what you wrought upon them after that, but I know they will be hard pressed to forgive you. If it was just you and I, I’d probably have you clapped in irons and locked in a dungeon for what happened to that village. But your people need you just as mine need me. I am willing to let it all go, and hold open negotiations with you, if it means a lasting peace for both our peoples.” She sat up straighter, still glaring down at him. “For all peoples.”

Rekrek snorted, glancing away. He shifted his weight a few times, his tail swishing behind him.

Mirelle thrust a gauntlet covered fist into the air. “It will not be easy. I am not so naïve as to think I can say a few nice words, and we’ll all be friends. Bitterness and anger will linger on both sides for a long time. But given a chance, time will heal all wounds. Even these. But it must be given that chance. So I ask you, one and all! Here, now, in this moment, help me start a better world! Help me leave the next generation of both our peoples a better heritage than hatred and bloodshed. Let this be the moment history records as the start of something better, for all of us! This is your choice, but it our chance to make this world something we can all share. Something your children can be proud of. A place they can grow up in and be raised on stories not of conquest and bloodshed and loss, but of peace. Of the day that brought them all together.”

In the distance, a gryphon keened, furious and terrible. Kurekka’s head jerked up, and he glanced back at Mirelle with wide eyes. He hissed. “That’s not a warning, Mirelle. That’s battle.”

Rekrek hefted his spear, staring out across his people but speaking to Mirelle. “Gavak came here for blood, for his ancestors’ honor. He wouldn’t listen to Enora, and…”

“Gavak’s already made his choice, Rekrek.” Mirelle gripped her maul in both hands, leaning down towards the va’chaak. “But he doesn’t speak for you. Whether Asterbury’s coming back or not, I’m offering you something he never will. Peace. Peace, without your tribe having to shed another drop of blood. All you have to do is stay their hand, here and now. If Gavak wants blood, he’ll get it, but if you truly care about your people, keep them out of it. When this is over, you can help me make them welcome here. That’s what I’m offering. Not just your hill, but a chance to share this place with us. As our friends and as our equals. I cannot do that alone, Rekrek. I need your help.” Mirelle sighed, closing her eyes a moment. “So look in your heart, decide if you can trust me, and make the choice you think is right for your peoples’ future. Peace, or war. Gavak’s already made his choice, and now he will bear its consequences.”

Mirelle tied her safety rope around her middle, pulled down her goggles, and hunkered down against the gryphon’s neck. “To war, Kurekka!”

*****

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