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waist of a black-clad person I could not tell if it was a man or woman, for a billowing cloak obscured
his or her form and hid the face in the shadows of a drawn hood.
Willam looked over his shoulder as I rushed forward. "Gavin! Thank the gods!"
Then I saw a flash of steel amidst the folds of the cloak. The rider twisted in Willam's grasp and drove a
short sword through the crack where his breastplate and back armor met. Willam let out a strangled cry
and released his grip. The griffin soared upward, Willam's weight pulled him free of the blade, and he
clattered to the hard stones of the battlement.
I leapt over his prone figure and onto the crenellation. I swung wide with my sword, hoping to strike the
griffin before it was too far away, but all I achieved was to almost lose my balance and plunge into the icy
moat forty feet below. Against the bright disk of the moon, I could see all three griffins that Gilthanas,
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Leth, and Alla had arrived on. The one I had witnessed on the wall was lagging significantly behind the
others. A single cloaked figure sat upon each of the two trailing griffins but I could see two figures upon
the lead one... and one of the people had long hair that fluttered in the wind. It was Alla!
I jumped off the wall and strode to Willam's side. Blood was streaming from the wound and the page
stood over him, looking confused and frightened. The boy was actually wringing his hands.
"Fetch one of the mystics," I barked. "And make sure it's one who knows how to heal!"
The page blinked at me, then rushed into the castle, leaving the door open behind him. I put my sword
aside and kneeled next to Willam. I pulled him into my arms and said, "It'll be all right, Willam. Just
relax."
He looked at me, his face twisted with pain. Then he coughed, and blood spilled forth from his mouth as
he trembled in my arms. I'd seen enough good men die to know that he didn't have much time.
"Get a healer to the northern battlements," I shouted. "To the Abyss with the damn mystics, just bring me
a healer!" Elsewhere in the castle, someone finally sounded the alarm.
Willam clutched at my cloak. His breath hissed over his lips, forming bubbles in the blood. "Alla," he
moaned, his eyes locking with mine. "Alla."
"You did your best, Willam. There is no dishonor in failing, only in not trying to perform your duty. You
and I shall hunt down the villains that abducted her when you have healed. They will pay for what they've
done with their lives, and we shall mete out justice together."
His eyes widened and a strange look passed over his face, a look the meaning of which I could not
determine it almost seemed like desperation. He drew a shuddering breath and spoke her name again.
"Alla."
Then his eyes went blank. His final breath bubbled across his lips as life fled his body.
"By Mishakal!" I heard someone cry. It was the young girl who served as the Revered Daughter's
assistant and the page I had dispatched. She was wearing only a dressing gown and ran across the icy
flagstones of the battlement in bare feet. "I will help him, Sir Knight. Goldmoon has instructed me in
healing magic!"
She kneeled at our side and placed her hands on Willam's bloody chest. She closed her eyes and
prepared to use the final gift of the gods, but then her eyes flew open and she drew back her hands as
though she had been burned.
"It's too late," I said, regretting the words even as they left my lips. It had been an unbidden phrase, said
without consideration. They were not the words this child needed to hear.
She raised her hands and looked at the blood upon them. They were trembling. Her doelike eyes drifted
to Willam's body, and she burst into tears. "I'm sorry," she sobbed. "I'm so sorry I didn't get here in time.
I was sleeping. I'm sorry!"
"It's not your fault," I said, forcing back tears of my own, struggling to keep my voice steady. I lowered
Willam to the cold stones and covered him with my cloak. I then helped the girl to her feet. She put her
arms around me and sobbed against my armor. I lifted my eyes to sky, to where I had seen the three
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griffins pass by the moon. "It's not your fault, milady. They killed Willam, not you. And, by my honor,
they will pay."
The battlement exploded with activity. Squires and a healer arrived. Knights in varying states of dress
with their swords drawn suddenly seemed to be everywhere. Somewhere, I heard Leth calling the name
of his beloved. That odd, desperate expression in Willam's eyes flashed in my mind. I wondered if the
boy had died with a burning passion for a woman with another man in her life died afraid that he would
never see her again.
Then I heard Gilthanas's voice. "What happened?" the elf asked.
I turned to him after passing the sobbing girl off to the page. As he led her away, I said, "The castle was
infiltrated. Someone has abducted Alla, stolen your griffins, and used them in their escape. Sir Willam
was slain trying to stop them."
The elf-lord's brow furrowed in a frown. "That's not possible."
"You saw the blood on that girl's hands, did you not?" I said, anger welling up inside me. "Do you see
the body here on the ground before us? If you check the courtyard, you will see that your mounts are
indeed gone. It is possible, Lord Gilthanas, and it has happened."
"Yes, Sir Knight, I understand, but what you are suggesting has happened here is impossible."
"Are you saying I am lying? Are you calling my honor into question?"
"No, Sir Gavin," he replied softly. "I was thinking about the griffins. They won't obey anyone but Leth.
How could they have taken the griffins with him still here?" As if to prove Gilthanas's point, Leth howled
Alla's name. Someone had told him the news.
"They could have taken the griffins if they used dark mysticism to usurp the bond that Leth has nurtured
with them." Lady Sheryl emerged from the chaos of Knights that were streaming back and forth along the
battlement. She was dressed in her nightgown and steel-toed boots. In one hand, she carried her sword.
In the other, she held a piece of parchment she had picked up from the flagstones. She offered it to me,
her eyes drifting to the shrouded form on the ground. Blood was starting to seep from beneath the cloak.
I examined the parchment. On it was a crude representation of the Seal of the Emperor of Ergoth with a
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