“Gorken Pass,” he said under his breath, and urged Belaguez into a long-striding canter.
Timozel sat in his cave and watched them approach…and laughed.
“Foolish, prideful man,” he chortled, sharing the view with his master. “See how he rides so exposed at the head of his pitiful force. They ride straight for us, and they ride directly to their death. Look! They have left their greaves at home, and their helmets remain unlaced!”
Then make sure you do them death, Timozel. I am tired of the games he and she play.
She? But Timozel dismissed the thought. Gorgrael seemed concerned about this black-haired woman – and, yes, Timozel could see her riding by Axis’ side – but Timozel was not worried if Axis’ harlot chose to ride into battle with him. She could die as easily as any other.
Then he sat forward, bewildered.
Any good commander would have ranged his force into units to attack those that Timozel had ranged before him (and for a league back into the Pass, Timozel gloated). But Axis…Axis was dividing his force in two and, even stranger, was directing them so that each half lined the sides of the Pass, leaving the centre ground bare. Was he manoeuvring for a battlefield…or a parade ground? The Strike Force, evil, feathered things, were landing on the snow behind the forward group of commanders, and Timozel was unable to believe what he saw.
Each carried only one arrow, and no bows.
Timozel’s hand tightened about the ruff of the Gryphon who lay by his side. The Gryphon had finally arrived during the night, and now they lay secreted among the rocks of the Alps, ready to launch themselves upon Axis’ army.
Timozel gasped in surprise…was that a child one of the forward commanders carried? He grinned. Axis had gone mad after his brush with death. Now he brought babes to fight for
him. Or was it only that he brought his family to share his fate? Timozel laughed again.
Axis was waving his commanders away now, until only he and the woman and the Strike Force remained. They exchanged some brief words, then Axis wheeled his mount away to the line of soldiers by the river. The woman dismounted, gestured to the pack of dogs that surrounded her to sit behind Axis, and strode forward until she was some two hundred paces from the first of the Skraeling ranks.
Timozel had to admit she was very beautiful. The Gryphon by his side grunted, and Timozel glanced at her. What was going through her mind?
Slowly, the raven-haired woman turned her eyes to the rocks.
She could feel if not see the Gryphon. They were there, waiting, and Azhure wagered that each and every one of them had her eyes on Azhure. She smiled, and reached with both hand and power, and called softly. “Lover?”
Instantly, every single one of the Gryphon fell back into her dream.
Azhure only wanted the Gryphon to dream, and she directed her power carefully. But she could feel its effect almost immediately, and there was a great collective sigh as each of the creatures closed her eyes and dreamed.
Timozel stared at the Gryphon beside him. She had rolled over onto her side, her eyes closed, and now she twitched and moaned, as if on heat.
He was so surprised he forgot to share the sight with Gorgrael, and his master paced his chamber in frustration, wondering what was happening.
Azhure smiled and extended both arms now, the power flowing from her eyes and beckoning fingers. “Lover? Are you there?”
An agkated movement came from amongst the rocks. Gryphon shifted painfully, caught fast by their desires, caught fast by the dream.
“Lover? Come to me. Come.”
The soft voice echoed through their minds and inflamed them still further.
“I wait for you, here in the snow,” she said. “Come, join with me.”
Suddenly a Gryphon burst from her hiding place among the rocks and plunged down the cliff face.
In his Ice Fortress, Gorgrael stirred at the moaning and wailing that arose from the corridors. He flung open the door of his chamber and stared outside. Half-matured Gryphon, their bellies already bulging with the young they carried, writhed and twisted along the floors of the corridor, and a great moaning filled the entire Ice Fortress. Among the masses and spaces of the fortress lay well over sixty-five thousand of the Gryphon, and all were caught by the dream.
Lover? Lover?
Gorgrael stared at them, excluded this time from the pleasure of the dream, and wondered what was going on. Did they all have colic?
“Pretty, pretty,” Azhure murmured, and the Gryphon crawled through the snow towards her. “Come to me, Lover. I will give you the fulfilment you crave.”
Another Gryphon plummeted from rocks to snow, and then another, and another, and soon the rock face was furred with descending Gryphon and a wave of the creatures undulated across the snow towards her.
“Lover? Lover? Come to me…come.”
“What?” Timozel muttered, appalled and confused by what he witnessed, and then the Gryphon by his side abruptly leaped out
into the swirling air and fell to the snow to crawl weeping and grunting with her sisters towards the woman.
“Sorceress!” Timozel barked, and jumped to his feet.
Soon the snow was thick with Gryphon. They rippled before Azhure, a seven-thousand-strong tide of feathers, tawny fur, tufted tails and eagles’ heads weaving back and forth. She rubbed the head of the first Gryphon soothingly, and a great muttering arose from the ranks of the Gryphon behind it.
As Azhure stroked the head of the first Gryphon, so all experienced the ecstasy, and as one they bobbed their heads in time to the movement of her hand.
As one they closed their minds to anything and everything else.
With her free hand behind her back, Azhure motioned the Strike Force forward.
Timozel finally collected himself enough to share his thoughts and the view with Gorgrael.
Bitch! Gorgrael screamed in his mind. The bitch will betray them as she did me! Gryphon! My pets, heed me only!
But the Gryphon did not. There was only the Lover, and she stood before each of them, and each of them felt her fingers stroke their heads and their bodies and each of them sighed and moaned and rolled over so that the Lover could rub her hand along their bellies…oh! Ah, yes! There! And there!
Listen to me! Gorgrael capered about his chamber, fists clenched, wings outstretched. Listen to ME!
Azhure’s ‘smile broadened as she felt SpikeFeather at her shoulder. He stared at the sight before him, and thought that no-one who could not see this for themselves would believe it.
Azhure touched only the front Gryphon, but as she moaned, so all the Gryphon moaned, and as she rolled and jerked, so all Gryphon rolled and jerked. Now their pale
underbellies were exposed to the sun, their bodies twitching, their eyes rolling back in their heads.
Azhure stared at him and SpikeFeather jumped, remembering what she had asked him to do. He held out her quiver, and, as she had told him, there was one arrow left. She took it with one hand, the other still rubbing the Gryphon’s belly, and then motioned with her head.
SpikeFeather nodded, and waved the Strike Force forward. Each of them stood ready with an arrow grasped in his or her hand.
“Lover,” Azhure whispered, “the moment of final fulfilment is upon you.”
As one the Gryphon cried and moaned.
No! Gorgrael screamed in his Ice Fortress as Azhure raised the arrow. No.’
Azhure smiled at the sound of his voice reverberating in her mind, then she plunged the arrow into the Gryphon’s vulnerable belly.
The Gryphon shrieked, and shrieked again, screaming for more, more, morel And so Azhure obliged, wrenching the arrow from her belly and plunging it down again and again.
Even as the Gryphon disintegrated she continued to shriek and howl, begging for more.
And in the Ice Fortress, the Gryphon’s nine pups shrieked in equal ecstasy . . . and died, their bodies disintegrating into thin air. They left no trace behind.
Among the writhing mass of Gryphon stepped the members of the Strike Force, plunging their arrows time and time again, and every time their arrows pierced the belly of a Gryphon, her pups writhing in the corridors of Gorgrael’s Ice Fortress shrieked and died and disintegrated along with their mother.
Gorgrael screamed into Timozel’s mind. Put a halt to this NOW! NOW! NOW! NOW!
Writhing himself, but with the agony of GorgraePs shrieks rather than the ecstasy of the dying Gryphon, Timozel ordered the Skraelings forward.
But as they began their march towards the manlings, the snow erupted before them and great sheets of ice speared into the sky. They screamed and backed away. The sight of their comrades plunging through the shattered ice of the Azle was still fresh in their minds, and they had no intention of suffering the same fate themselves. Even the SkraeBolds, wheeling above the Skraelings, neglected to force them forwards, horrified by the death of the Gryphon and the ice spears lunging for the sky.