PLUMAGE
There had to be something they could do. If the colonel had fallen into Raider hands and was slain, there would be nothing holding the Raiders back from killing the others, as well. Karigan couldn’t let this happen, she just couldn’t.
“I’ll take the Riders,” Connly said. “We can ride swiftly.”
“Not likely swiftly enough, I’m afraid,” General Washburn said, pity in his eyes.
Karigan looked at the faces around her, and all held that look of resignation. “You’re all just going to give up?”
“Karigan,” Zachary began, his eyes full of sorrow.
Failed again, have you, Greenie? Nyssa’s voice and laugh wormed into her mind. She suddenly felt so tired, so useless. What hope was there?
Ripaeria looked up then and cocked her head. She made some inarticulate vocalization Karigan interpreted as eagle for, uh oh.
A wind rushed down on them that shredded leaves and pinecones from tree limbs. Ripaeria sidestepped to make room for another larger, gray eagle to land. A pouch hung slung around its neck, and incredibly, a man sat upon its back.
“Two in one night,” someone said. “Unbelievable.”
Ripaeria and the newcomer engaged in what appeared to be an argument consisting of screeches and other vocalizations, and silences that must have been mind-to-mind communication. After a short time of this, Ripaeria shrank into herself as if chastened.
This is my esteemed uncle, she told the assembled in a meek voice. Softfeather of Snowcloud Eyrie.
“Softfeather!” Karigan cried, and she stepped forward.
He gazed down his long beak at her with his intense raptor eyes. He blinked slowly. I remember you. The Green Rider who helped me destroy the creature of Kanmorhan Vane some years ago. Well met. It is good to see you well and surprisingly alive.
Karigan let the last pass unremarked. His “voice” was much deeper than Ripaeria’s, and with his arrival, it became clear that Ripaeria was very young as Karigan had suspected.
I apologize for this intrusion and any disruption my wayward niece has caused you, Softfeather said. She was told not to meddle in human affairs, only to keep watch, but she is young and headstrong.
If it were possible, Ripaeria seemed to shrink even more into a large feathery ball.
“May I make proper introductions?” Karigan asked.
“Please do,” Zachary said, gazing at the two eagles in wonder.
When this was done, the man on Softfeather’s back said, “What about me?”
Softfeather closed his nictating eyelids, and it seemed the equivalent of a human eye roll. Of course, the eagle said. This is Duncan.
Karigan suddenly remembered Ripaeria mentioning a human male who lived with them at the eyrie. That must be quite a story.
The man slid off Softfeather’s back and stood with his hands on his hips. “Yes, I am Duncan, and I cannot tell you how pleased I am to be off the ledge and among humans again. When I heard where Softfeather was going, I made him bring me along.”
He was a virile specimen of a man with a chiseled, square chin, his hair swept back just so, and a muscular build accentuated by his choice of trousers and shirt, the latter of the overly tight variety leaving little to imagination. His shirt was open to the middle of his chest, and she wondered if it was cold flying thus attired.
He in turn was gazing at her, and not at her face either. She tightened her hold on her towel and shrugged deeper into Zachary’s longcoat.
“Interesting nightwear,” Duncan commented. His smile was perfect and beautiful. A little too perfect. “The coat kind of ruins the effect, however.”
“Who are you?” Zachary demanded. He stepped forward as if to make Duncan back off from Karigan.
Duncan did not, but made a graceful, sweeping bow, his gaze trailing down Karigan’s body as he did so. “I am a humble mage, Your Gracious Majesty.” Then he gave the Weapons present a keen look. “Your dark wardens of ages past failed to slay me, or imprison me in one of the towers of the D’Yer Wall.”
The assembled erupted with questions and generally chattered all at once. Duncan looked quite pleased by the effect he was having on his audience.
“A mage, as in a great mage?” Karigan asked. “You knew Merdigen, Itharos, and the others?”
“Oh, I knew them all. They were my teachers, but they were hidebound, had no imagination, and so I struck out on my own.”
My ancestors gave him sanctuary during the Scourge, Softfeather said. And so we are stuck with him.
“And I remained stuck at the eyrie of the Snowclouds for centuries. I’ve known Softfeather since he was an egg.”
“If that is the case, then—” Karigan poked him, but her finger traveled through nothing but air. “You are like the others, an illusion.”
He placed his hand over his heart. “No, dear lady, I am a projection of the great mage, Duncan.”
Karigan gazed at the pouch hanging around Softfeather’s neck. She’d heard a bit about Alton’s experiences with the tower mages and had met Merdigen. “And Softfeather is carrying your tempes stone so you can be, er, present.”
“That is very personal information,” he said.
Oh, there is more than a tempes stone in this pouch, Softfeather said, to allow him to exist among us.
“Softfeather,” Duncan said in a warning voice.
The eagle clacked his beak shut and said no more.
“This is all very interesting,” Zachary said, “but we have something of a crisis on our hands.”
Then I shall take my niece away immediately, Softfeather said.
“Please stay, if you would. I understand Ripaeria has been of some assistance to Rider G’ladheon.”
Against the wishes of her elders and our Lord Drannonair.
“Ripaeria saved my life,” Karigan told Softfeather, “as you once did.”
Someone needed to slay the creature of Kanmorhan Vane, he replied, and there you were, and able to use a sword, too.
“The fact of the matter is,” Zachary said, “that there has been some mutual aid between your folk and mine. We were allies during the Long War.” He outlined for Softfeather the situation with the colonel and the other captives.
I like him, your king, Ripaeria told Karigan, and Karigan was pretty sure she directed her comment to her only. He is well-spoken and strong. His plumage is admirable. Or would be, to a human, and his displays subtle but unmistakable.
His plumage? His displays? Karigan glanced at Zachary anew.
He watches you a lot when he thinks you do not notice, Ripaeria observed. His blood runs hot because of your plumage.
Karigan coughed and reddened.
I feel sure he desires you as a mate. Did you not see how he challenged Duncan? Yes, I think he is worthy. You should mate and nest.
Heat flushed through Karigan’s body. Ripaeria the eagle was telling her to—to nest with Zachary.
You are surprised by this? You respond to his plumage and displays as an interested eagless would. I also sense between the two of you, the—and here was a vocalization no human could interpret.
Karigan was so mortified she didn’t know how to respond except to ask, What is—is that thing you just said?
I do not have the human expression for it. “Bond” for a mated pair is not strong enough. But when a pair has this thing, ah, it is the stuff of romantic ballads. Eagles are great poets, you know.
I, uh, didn’t know, Karigan told her. Might she be referring to something like “true heart mates”? It was also the stuff of romantic ballads in the human world.
I like that, Ripaeria said. It expresses what I mean. I see that your hearts are bonded.
Karigan could not believe she was having this conversation with a bird, albeit a magnificent one. Ripaeria’s eyes glittered in the lamplight, and she made a chuckling noise.
It cannot be done, Softfeather was saying.
“What cannot be done?” Karigan asked, wondering what she had missed while discussing “plumage” with Ripaeria.
“Your general wishes to ride eagleback into battle,” Duncan answered, “like I can. But he weighs far too much.” When General Washburn began to sputter, he added, “You all do. I am weightless, and so Softfeather can manage me.”
The eagles of the mountains were much larger and stronger in the past, Softfeather said, and though they found such conveyance distasteful, as I personally still do, it is said to have happened during times of dire need. But alas, we are a diminished people from what we once were.
“The alliance between our people,” Zachary said, “has never been terminated, not since its creation over a thousand years ago. Is there no way you can aid us? Our need is urgent to reach the mountains.”
Softfeather stood there, wings tightly folded to his sides, beak lowered.
“He does not want to get in trouble with Drannonair, do you, old boy?” Duncan said.
Softfeather gave the great mage a fierce look. Remember who it is that carries your entire existence in a pouch.
Duncan put his hands up as if warding against a blow. “I am only speaking the truth of the matter. But it is possible that I may be able to help.”
“You?” the general scoffed.
“Yes, me. I may be a mere projection of the great mage I once was, but I still have, shall we say, access to a few abilities.”
“Then please,” Zachary said, “if there is a way for you to help us—”
“Tut, tut,” said Duncan. “I do have a condition.”
“And that is?”
Duncan smiled.
Karigan lugged the pouch containing Duncan’s tempes stone, and whatever else was in there, over her shoulder and into Lady Clary’s house. It was not light, but Duncan refused to help with a rescue unless it was she who carried it. She glanced out the door where Zachary continued to speak with Softfeather about the old alliance. Meanwhile, many of the others had scattered to make preparations for the rescue. Karigan was not best pleased by Duncan’s plan, but she could think of no other alternative. She closed the door behind her.
“Very nice,” Duncan said as he strode beside her and looked around. “Look at all the art, the soaring ceiling. No dingy keep is this. Humanity has progressed.”
“Haven’t you been in a house recently?” Karigan asked. She shivered as she stepped onto the marble floor with her bare feet.
“No. You would think living with eagles would allow you to go many places, but they just fly about from eyrie to eyrie, or go hunting. It’s quite boring, actually. And yes, they may be poets, but you hear one eagle ballad, you’ve heard them all.” He leaned in toward Karigan. “You should probably clothe yourself, my dear, before you catch a chill.”
That was her intention. She started up the stairs holding Zachary’s coat tight around her. Softfeather had looked so relieved, nay, joyous, to hand the pouch over to her. She made him promise to take it—thus, Duncan—back when all was said and done.
The mage followed her up the stairs, admiring everything from the millwork to the rugs to the sculptures. “Very civilized. Much better than the cliff.”
Karigan supposed it would be. She entered her guestroom and let the pouch slide off her shoulder onto a chair.
Duncan jumped onto the bed. His action did not disturb the covers or mattress, but he stretched out like he could really feel it beneath him. “Oh, very nice.” He patted the space beside him. “Join me?”
She scowled at him and picked up the uniforms Tegan had brought her.
“Now don’t be like that, dear lady. It has been many a year since I’ve had the privilege of female company. Er, human female company, at any rate. You know, women did always find me irresistible.” He tossed his hair back just so.
Dear gods, Karigan thought. What had she gotten herself into?
She stepped behind a screen to change. She removed Zachary’s coat, taking in the scent of him as she did so.
“Nice shoulders,” Duncan said, suddenly there beside her.
She squawked and dropped the coat. “Get out!”
“But—”
She pointed to the other side of the screen. “Get out! Or I will drop your tempes stone to the bottom of a lake.”
“Easy now, dear lady.” He backed away through the screen as though she were a wild mare about to trample him. “But do not forget who is getting you to the mountains within a few minutes instead of a few days, eh?”
She was beginning to regret their agreement that she be the steward of his pouch in exchange for his getting them to the mountains quickly. If he tried anything like that again, she would throw it in a lake, or at least out the window.
Once she had rebandaged her wound and dressed, she felt much better and not at all chilled. The uniform pieces were indeed a bit baggy on her, but they’d serve. The boots, however, were perfect, and it was even better that they were already broken in.
“Well, well,” Duncan said when she emerged from behind the screen.
She ignored him and took up the pouch again, and with Zachary’s coat draped over her arm, she left the comfortable room with some regret. She could really use several days of sleep, but the colonel and her fellow Riders came first.
She trotted down the stairs and found Lady Clary awaiting her.
“I wanted to wish you the best of luck,” the countess said.
“Thank you,” Karigan replied. “You’ve been most gracious, and I only wish I could have stayed longer.”
“Perhaps another time. You would be quite welcome. I was wondering if I might have a private word with you before you depart.” She looked significantly at Duncan.
When Duncan did not move, Karigan strode down the corridor and set the pouch on a chair. “Stay,” she told him.
He crossed his arms and, with a petulant look, said, “I am not a dog.” But he obeyed as Karigan returned to the countess.
“These are very strange days,” Lady Clary said, “with all the magic returning to the world.” She shook her head. “But what I wanted to talk to you about has nothing to do with magic. Rather, I wish to warn you.”
“About what?”
Lady Clary hesitated, then said, “The danger of kings.”