Epilogue
Drake of the Five Lands stowed his wagon and hung up his minstrel’s garb—for the time being at least. One never knew when the bard’s persona might come in handy once more, but Drake of Draconia had to learn how to be a knight first. He spent every day training with Jenet and Mace, welcomed home at night into Krysta’s loving arms.
She’d changed her schedule to the day watch and continued to work, though she too had much to learn about Lair life. She wasn’t the typical lady of the Lair and before long she’d inspired many of the other women to start some basic training in arms as a way to keep fit and prepare for any contingency. All the knights thought it was a good thing, though they didn’t communicate their worries about impending war too broadly.
Krysta led classes for the women, teaching them simple ways to defend themselves. A few were more gifted, and she invited them to study with the Guards when it was her turn to teach. All in all, they were settling in to a beautiful life in the Lair.
Then came the magic training.
Drake relied on Mace to help temper his volatile emotions when dealing with Sir Declan. Nico, and even Roland, sat in on those first few sessions when Drake began to call on his fire, hoping to show Declan how to do the same.
Dec wasn’t the only one astounded when the fire came much easier to the older knight than it had to his son. Declan was a natural and the dragons confirmed what Drake was astonished to learn. Declan’s fire was even closer to the surface than it had been in Drake. It explained a lot about Declan’s temper and the tight control under which he’d always lived.
Now that the fire was released, Declan’s disposition changed as well. He was much more easygoing than ever and began to see the humor in life as well as the struggle. It was a positive change for them all.
Drake took his place at his fathers’ sides as a close counselor to the king. Declan and Ren had always been valued advisors, but now with magic more prevalent in the kingdom, Drake and Mace were called upon to offer their expertise as well. They spent part of each morning with Roland, often with Nico and some of the other royal princes present as well, going over communiqués and talking strategy.
It was on one such morning when a near breathless messenger arrived from one of the southern cities. He rushed into the throne room, then fell to one knee before Roland.
“My liege.” The man breathed hard, as if he’d run all the way from Tipolir to Castleton. “News from the south. A flight of gryphons with mounted warriors heads this way at a slow pace, though they can’t be more than a few hours behind me.”
“From whom did this news pass?” Roland asked
“The news started with a messenger from Tipolir, thence to Bayern, Hallowet, Sewell and on, but I saw them myself, my liege. They overtook me on the road and shadowed me for a time, but let me pass unmolested.”
“How many would you say?” Nico helped the man to his feet, handing him a glass of water since the poor man looked well-worn from the hard ride.
“A dozen that I saw. The reports stated twice that many, but I only saw twelve gryphons—each with a mounted rider, though the riders blended so well with the gryphons’ golden plumage, they were hard to make out. My liege, I never thought to see the like.”
“Thank you for making haste to give us this news,” Roland said, calmer than Drake would have credited. He signaled to Nico and the Prince of Spies led the man from the room, questioning him quietly as he led him to the great hall where he could rest and have a meal. Drake also saw Nico pass the man a few coins for his trouble. Nico had never skimped on paying for good service. It’s what made him such an able spymaster.
Roland turned to Drake and Mace, a raised eyebrow enough to make Drake share his thoughts.
“I think it’s safe to bet these could be some of Gryffid’s folk.”
Drake sent a quick message to Jenet. “Sweetheart, are you with Wil?”
“He’s flying out near the southern edge of the new town with some of the others. He’s safe.”
“Gryphons are coming, Jen. They’re close to Castleton.”
“My brother Wil is flying to the south,” Roland confirmed, informing the rest of the gathered advisors. “I’ve asked him to wait, but I doubt that will hold him.” Roland stalked toward the door. “If your partners are near, mount up and fly with me. I’m going out to meet them.”
Drake, Mace, Ren, Declan and several others of the king’s advisors were hot on his heels. The knights raced for the ledges where their dragons waited, ready to fly. Roland, Nico and a few of the other princes shifted and took to wing as black dragons, the large contingent heading south to meet the wizard’s emissaries.