Chapter 6

The gryphon's wings cut through the cool evening air, each powerful beat sending ripples through the treetops below. The vast forest stretched out beneath the weary rider, the deep grey canopy rolling over hills and valleys.

Shadows stretched long as the sun sank towards the horizon, casting the forest in a golden glow. Rivers and streams sparkled in the dying light, as the water wound its way to the great lake at the centre of the forest.

Sarah Browett shifted in the saddle, stiff from the long flight. Leather creaked and her fingers tightened around the reins as the gryphon glided lower, riding the warm updrafts rising from the forest floor. The scent of pine and damp earth drifted up, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and wind.

Beyond the endless trees, the colony came into view-a cluster of wooden buildings close to the islands edge, their rooftops bathed in the fading light. Thin wisps of smoke curled skyward from chimneys, the scent of cooking fires and freshly tilled earth marking it as home.

Fields of cleared land spread outward from the settlement, a patchwork quilt of crops and pastures providing food and goods for the fledgling colony.

Greyquill let out a low, tired screech, as she angled toward the landing post, her claws itching for solid ground. Sarah exhaled, rolling aching shoulders, eager to be free of the saddles grip. Another long day, another flight through uncharted skies, but for now, there would be rest.

Elias Browett, the young Lord of Rockshore, and her brother, was waiting as she landed. He stood back as, Josias, Greyquill's handler, rushed forward to take the reins as Sarah climbed down from the back of the gryphon.

She reached up to run her fingers across the gryphon's broad shoulders and whispered her thanks for the safe flight. Greyquill, turned her head to watch Sarah with amber eyes that shone with intelligence.

"Go with, Josias," she laughed, patting the gryphon's side. "He will have a rabbit or two waiting for you."

"That I have, mistress," Josias said, bobbing his head. He lifted the reins in his hand and gave them a small tug, directing the gryphon to follow him. "Come now, girl. Let's be getting you brushed down and fed."

Sarah watched him lead the gryphon away, hands on her hips, and gaze distant. Her once long, naturally curled hair the colour of autumn leaves, had been cut short leaving it barely long enough for her to tie it back from her face.

Her clothes were worn and dusty but well made, without decoration. Grey woollen trousers, and leather boots that reached her knees. A soft, blue blouse and black jacket with a silver pin denoting her rank of Gryphon Rider, was the only jewellery she wore.

She moved with a natural grace and was well practiced with the slim rapier that hung from her left hip. Even more so with the pistol holstered on her right.

Her brother, Elias, was her opposite in almost every way. His hair was black, and his face as handsome as she was beautiful, though his forehead was marred by lines of constant worry. He wore thin wired spectacles, and his clothes were richly embroidered.

He favoured brighter colours, to her drab tastes, and though he maintained his health, he moved with little grace, each step placed carefully as though he were afraid, he would overbalance. But his smile, when he used it, would light up any room.

Not that he'd had much cause to smile of late, she thought ruefully.

"Still no sign of the ship?" she asked, before he could speak.

Elias lifted his shoulder in a slight shrug. "Any day now, I am sure."

She heard the worry in his voice but ignored it. There was nothing she could do to alleviate it, and she was tired of the arguments that came when she tried. Instead, she just nodded, and rolled her neck, stretching out the tense muscles there.

"How was your flight?"

"Exhausting," she muttered. A pause, and then she added. "My luck was no better."

Elias's face fell at that, and he stuffed his hands into his pockets. It was getting noticeably colder and that was a bad sign. It meant that events were accelerating beyond what he had hoped and, worse, that his calculations had been wrong.

"The wall is looking good, at least," Sarah said, lifting her chin to the palisade that covered two thirds of the colony's perimeter. Another day or two at most and it would be complete. A wide ditch sat in front of it, half filled with sharpened stakes. "The farmers?"

"Those nearest have agreed," Elias said, hunching his shoulders against the chill air. He glanced up at the sky, convinced he had just felt the first touch of rain. "Seventeen families have decided they are too far out to make the journey each day."

"More fool them," Sarah muttered. She finished stretching and turned, slipping her arm through her brothers and guiding him away from the platform. "You cannot hold yourself responsible for their choices."

"They are in my charge," he said, grimacing as rain began to fall in earnest. "It is my duty to protect them."

"You cannot protect everyone, brother. Father should have taught you that."

"Like he did you?"

As much as Elias tried to keep the bitter sting from the words, his sister's expression told him that he had failed. It was not her fault that she was favoured by their father, nor was it anything she could control.

Still, even years after his passing, it was a cause of tension between them.

"My apologies," he said, dropping automatically into the formal, clipped tone, he hadn't used in two years. "My words were poorly chosen and ill spoken."

Sarah smiled and patted his arm. "Give over, brother. No offence taken."

"You are too kind."

"And you are too stuffy," she said, laughter rising. "Unbend a little. You are not at court."

That was true enough, he thought as his boots squelched in the churned up muddy channels that passed for streets. The colony was young, barely two years old, and only recently self-sufficient. Which was an achievement, all its own.

In just two years he had accomplished what should have taken five, and with the wizard's arrival, he could move to the next stage. Then he would be able to return to court, triumphant, bringing new land into the Queen's domain. Fertile, bountiful land-a chance to ease the burden of an overcrowded kingdom.

"Forgive me, sister," he said, voice quiet and thoughtful.

Sarah watched him from the corner of her eye as they walked. She was tired from a long day in the saddle, but his weariness was bone deep. An exhaustion brought on by the worry and the cares of a new colony and all the people it contained.

And the troubles that came with it.

Sergeant Hayes saluted smartly as he marched past with the dozen men set for the first watch. They would man the watchtowers and fill the gap in the palisade with their own bodies. Muskets loaded and ready.

It would be a long night.

"I'll do a sweep of the farmlands in the morning," Sarah said, groaning inwardly at the thought of being so soon back in the saddle. "Before I head back out towards the northern hills."

"You do too much," Elias protested. "While urging me to rest and ignoring your own needs."

"Rest is for the old and the dead," she quipped and stopped, cursing herself. "Elias, I'm sorry."

He waved away her apology, a gentle smile on his lips. "Be well, sister. No offence taken."

They stopped at the house they shared. It was barely larger than any of the others, built with smooth river stone at the base rising to chest height, before timber took over the construction. Two storeys, with wooden roof tiles that did a good job keeping out the rain but would need replacing all too soon.

It was one of the few homes with glass panes in the windows, an expense most did without, though Elias had thought it worth the price at the time. Though he cursed himself for not spending the coin elsewhere now.

They scraped the mud from the boots and sat in the wicker chairs on the covered porch, before pulling their boots off and hanging their weapons in the rack beside the door. In stockinged feet, they entered the house, pausing in the entry way to appreciate the warmth of the fire burning merrily in the stone fireplace.

Sybil, the housekeeper, cook and maid, came out of the kitchen as she heard the door close. A chubby, cheerful woman with grey hair in a bun, and a bright, white, pinny; she had been with their family since before they were born twenty years past.

"Dinner will be ready soon," she said, bustling over and reaching for their coats as they took them off. She tutted at the dust and draped them over her arm before she looked up at the two of them. "Well, be off and wash up."

The siblings exchanged looks and smiled. Her informality had been well earned as she was the one who had just about raised them after their parents passing. It was she who had seen to their daily needs, had encouraged them with their schooling and cheered their successes.

She was as much family as anyone could be, and it was only her insistence that she continue on working that she had not retired with a sizeable pension and the thanks of a grateful family.

The two of them followed her instructions, heading into the back room where basins of steaming water had been prepared. They used scented soap and washcloths to clean themselves up, before towelling themselves dry with the handtowels she has laid out.

"Check your nails," Sarah reminded Elias as she scrubbed at hers with a brush. Her brother groaned but picked up a brush and set to work on his own.

When they had finished, they filed into the dining room and stood just beyond the doorway. A smaller fire burned in the fireplace in there, the crackle of wood an almost soothing sound. Light came from candles set upon the long dining table, the flames flickering and dancing as rain pelted the window that overlooked Sybil's small garden.

Places had been set, and they each took a seat opposite one another, and waited.

"In autumn, we will hold the first apprenticeship ceremony," Elias said, fiddling with the silver fork beside his plate. "There will be two children of age."

"That's pleasing news," Sarah agreed. She eyed the carafe of wine, and then her empty glass, before she cursed the need for propriety.

"When the ship arrives," Elias said, leaving unspoken the 'if the ship arrives,' "It will surely have letters from Yorwich."

"I hope not." Sarah wrinkled her nose. "Aunt Prudence has a list of suitors she insists I choose from."

"A list!" Elias raised his brows and chuckled. "She sent me an entire book full of names."

"Well, you are the lord of a demesne." Sarah's fingers twitched towards the carafe. It had been a really long day. "One with potential to be of extreme providence."

Elias shifted uncomfortably, and Sarah realising what she had said, raised a hand but her brother waved away her apology before she could speak it.

"Enough, sister. We need not dance around the subject."

"The wizard will arrive," she said, and he nodded.

"Gods above and below have mercy upon us if they don't," Elias said.

Blast it! Sarah thought, reaching for the carafe. Propriety be damned, they both needed a drink.

"Hands off, young lady," Sybil said, pushing through the door. "Not until the meat is served."

The cook lifted the plate she held, the roasted chicken steaming as a wave of aroma followed her through the open kitchen door, washing over the two siblings and making their mouths water with anticipation.

"Now, Elias, you carve, while I will pour your wine."

"Thank you," Elias said, smiling as he rose from his seat.

The smile faded as the distant sound of gunfire sounded and all three of them turned towards the window. Sybil set down the plate with the chicken, wringing her hands as she trembled, while Sarah pushed back her chair and rose.

"Arm yourself, brother," she said. "They've come again."