The Shadow of the Gryphon: Chapter 1

[image error]All journeys begin and end at a crossroad. The Plough and Thistle Inn was built at the main crossroad of Grassmarket and was the only lodging in the entire country of Aberdour that could accommodate all the races of Gryphendale no matter the size. In fact, it was the only inn in Aberdour, which explains why old Arthur chose it for his musings and his temporary home. The small, wooden two-story building sat on the edge of the tiny market town near the few major dirt roads in that predominantly rural country of Brownie farmers. Being the only inn for miles was the only way it had enough business even to stay open.

Unlike his fellow home loving brownies, Arthur had traveled a great deal in his lifetime. He felt comfort at seeing the various strange faerie people coming and going. The inn was one of his favorite places in the world. Unfortunately, his reclusive Brownie nature was winning tonight, and he felt glad to see the evening rush of guests go home or to their rooms.

Hickory, the tall, old Dryad with large, floppy, pointed ears and white, messy hair had built the place. One could find him sleeping in front of the building in the form of a large hickory tree at night. This widely known dryad behavior was viewed by the Brownies of the area with suspicion, and it meant that poor Hickory was accepted in the community about as much as Arthur was, which wasn’t much. His food and drink were consumed mostly by brownies who wanted to satisfy a mild daring or rebellious urge by dining on something exotic, such as stew with parsley added to it. Those traveling across Aberdour to visit relations on the other side had no choice but to stay at the strange inn.

Arthur was Hickory’s most regular guest, and they maintained a quiet friendship and understanding between them. On this solemn stormy night, they left each other with their own thoughts. Hickory collected dishes and cups from the small, emptying tables to wash behind the bar, and Arthur smoked his polished wooden pipe by the imposing fireplace.

The few travelers in the inn hardly noticed Arthur, a two-foot-tall, rat-like figure, in his little wooden chair. His flopped-over pointed ears and his oversized nose was typical of the gnarled and hairy brownies. His brown and gray speckled hair and unshaven face, leathery, wrinkled skin, and brown clothes blended in with the wood of the spacious open dining area crowded with tables, benches, and chairs.

Arthur enjoyed his customary spot by the large hearth and smoked while staring into the warm flames. The orange and red crackling fire drew him back to the events of just a month ago. He should hate the fire for destroying his life, but instead, he felt like he was watching an old friend playing a familiar game.

Fire had devoured his little yellow farmhouse, which is why he had come live at the inn a month ago. It was a dreadful accident. All his friends and relations rushed to his farm to help put out the raging kitchen fire. Even with the great community effort, all he had built over the last thirty years with his late wife was gone. Her grave lay by the ruins of their lives together. He only had a single small portrait of her left that he kept with him in his pocket. Their two sons were grown-up, married with a brood of children of their own. They each offered him a room in their homes, but he chose the inn so he could have his own independent life rather than depend on his kids.

He told everyone that living at the inn was temporary. He had originally planned to rebuild, but after a few weeks, he realized he felt too tired and too old to build over again. He hated the idea of starting yet another farm. It was his wife’s passion to farm. His sons were just like her in that way. Arthur wasn’t good at it. He had just kept farming after she passed away five years ago because he had nothing better to do. He mused over the idea of just staying here at the inn. He had enough savings that he could live like this for the rest of his days, staring at the familiar fire.

The door to the inn swung open as two tall young men with large backpacks walked in from the pouring rain. Their brown traveling cloaks dripped water all over the wooden floor.

“Innkeeper, do you have lodging and food for two weary souls?” asked the lighter haired young man as he pulled the hood of his cloak down from over his head.

“Yep,” said Hickory. He started to prepare something behind the bar. “Take a seat and supper will be right out.”

Arthur watched the two men take off their brown cloaks and drop their canvas bags at a small square table near him and the warm fire. They plopped down in the simple wooden chairs looking tired and worried.

They were both the same human-sized height and in their early twenties, no more than twenty-five years old. Arthur noticed the resemblance to their father immediately. He had fought with their father in the Great War before he was made the High King of Gryphendale.

The few remaining Brownie guests in the inn didn’t seem to recognize them, though. The men wore common travel clothes and had not shaved for a few days. They carried nothing that would indicate that they were extremely rich or royal. At the same time, they weren’t in disguise or being secretive.

Arthur knew the princes were fraternal twins. Nathaniel and Timothy were the youngest sons of King Sage and Queen Autumn. Prince Chevil, the heir to the throne, was their older brother and well respected. He was also easily recognizable for his red hair. There was always talk of the royal family. It was a worldwide hobby to gossip about them.

The blond-haired man, Timothy, wore wire rimmed glasses, a distinctly human device. He was training to be an Asri to take the place of his mother’s great-uncle, Thyme, the legendary scholar. Timothy took after his Sprite mother with his light hair, light eyes, and a pair of dragonfly wings that were folded down near his body. His mannerisms, face shape, and facial expressions were all his father’s though. He was tall, lean, and athletic.

The tan, dark-haired man, Nathaniel, carried a curved Nomad saber. He was a well known warrior and was expected to lead the army in the footsteps of the King. He looked similar to his older brother, Chevil, and almost identical to his Huldra father. He had the fox tail of the Huldra, and his eyes changed colors from dark brown to green as he glanced over the room. Out of all the royal children, Nathaniel reminded everyone of a young King Sage the most, but there was a poetic gentleness to his expression that was a marked difference. Nathaniel just didn’t have the hardness in his jaw or the fire in his eyes that King Sage did.

Both men were the same height and same build and carried themselves confidently. They both had pointed ears, and, other than coloring and race, their facial features were the very same proportions.

Arthur looked back at the fire wondering what brought the two princes alone into this boring, flat land of farmers. Plenty of trouble brewed in the other countries even though they had voted for the High King and Queen of Gryphendale. Constant squabbles between the countries and threats to leave the union were common, especially among the southern lands. Aberdour, though, liked the stability of the High King and Queen.

“This rain will delay us,” said Timothy to his brother, “but we really need the rest. We shouldn’t kill ourselves before we even get there.”

Nathaniel sighed. “It may stop soon. We might be able to leave before sunrise.”

“No, this is a true storm. It’ll rain all night,” countered Timothy as he took off his glasses and cleaned them with the edge of his tan shirt. “Besides, you need to sleep. You’re pushing too hard. We have traveled what usually takes a week in three days. I’m tired.”

Nathaniel sighed again and leaned his head in his hands as though that would help him think better. “I hate waiting. I hate how slow we are traveling. I hate this whole mess. Give me a battle and I can fight it. Give me a task and I can do it, but this just grates on me!”

“Sorry,” said Timothy. “I know you are worried about her, but this is the fastest we can go. We aren’t going to solve anything overnight. She will be alright.”

Hickory brought out some hot drinks in each hand for the young men. “This will warm you up,” he said, placing the mugs on the table before them. “What are your names, and what brings you to this part of the world?”

Arthur snorted. If Hickory thought for half a minute he would know who these boys were. Perhaps, it was in the best interest of an innkeeper to be ignorant at times. Then again, maybe he didn’t know. Arthur was always surprised at how little people noticed things.

“We are just passing through,” said Timothy. “This is the road towards Rokurokubi, correct?”

Arthur tilted his head. Rokurokubi was the mountainous ogre homeland. That was a rugged and dangerous place to go.

“Well, yes,” said Hickory slowly. He scratched his scruffy chin. “It isn’t a straight road there, though. Most people around here don’t travel in that direction much. Poor farmland and too many rocks, you see. You can get there from here, but I might need to draw you a map. If you go as the crow flies, you’ll march right through some crops. You don’t need angry farmers in your path. Also, as you get closer to the border, you’ll be facing more bandits and trouble.”

“I don’t mind that so much,” said Nathaniel. He took a sip from his mug.

Arthur smirked. If Nathaniel’s reputation was accurate, he tended to search out bandits on purpose. Arthur was not the nosy type, but since the princes sat so close to him and didn’t seem to mind being overheard, he spoke up.

“Sorry, but I might be able to help, depending on what you are looking for in Rokurokubi.”

The young men jumped. Apparently, they hadn’t noticed Arthur.

Nobody uses the eyes on their heads anymore, thought Arthur.

Timothy spoke first. “We are going to the Odemience Mountains in the ogre homeland. Do you know the best way to get there?”

Arthur turned in his little chair to look at them better. “The main pass into the heart of the mountains is near the caves where bandits tend to live. Are you trying to find them?”

Timothy shook his head, “No, we are trying to find a particular cavern. Here, look at my map.” Timothy opened his canvas bag next to the table and pulled out an old, rolled up parchment. Nathaniel moved his cup as Timothy rolled out the parchment on the table. Then, Timothy used his and Nathaniel’s cups to hold it open. It was a map that had the whole world of Gryphendale on it with each of the nine countries marked and the main highways drawn.

Gryphendale was a small floating island in the center of the earth. Humans had all sorts of other names for Gryphendale in their legends, such as the Faerie world or the Seelie kingdom. The west side of Gryphendale was a large sea that the Merpeople ruled, while seven small countries divided the land. A great lake and a river that cut through the continent were ruled by the Undine. The south and southeast were abandoned deserts filled with Nomads of various races. Timothy pointed to the northeast side of the map where Aberdour bordered Rokurokubi. He moved his finger east to an isolated mountain in the middle of the Odemience Mountains, solidly in the dangerous Ogre lands.

Timothy stood as he explained, “Only the main roads are drawn on this map. They stop here at the inn, turning either north or south. I have no roads on this map going east to the mountain range.” He tapped his finger on the mountain on the map. “We need to get to Tabletop Mountain. I was expecting to see the Odemience Mountains by now, but I guess rain or fog is obscuring them. We can just go in that general direction, but we don’t need to pick fights with angry farmers, like you said. It would also be nice to avoid Ogres or bandits when we cross the border.”

Hickory whistled. “Can’t help you there, but you are talking to the right Brownie.”

“What do you mean?” asked Timothy, looking up at Hickory and then Arthur.

“This is Arthur’s kind of half-baked adventure,” said Hickory.

“Oh, go bake a cake,” growled Arthur. “I haven’t been on an adventure in fifty years.”

“Thirty years, but who’s counting.” Hickory crossed his arms enjoying his jab at Arthur.

Arthur pointed his pipe at Hickory. “No adventures!”

“Maybe it’s about time you do something with your old carcass,” said Hickory as he turned around and walked away with a smirk. He went back to his bar pleased with himself and began to cook a stew on his little black iron stove.

Timothy and Nathaniel watched the exchange curiously.

“I thought Brownies were allergic to adventures,” said Nathaniel. His eyes turned from brown to green.

“Do you want help or not?” growled Arthur. He was regretting speaking up at this point.

Timothy sat back down. “We know what we are looking for, but we could use a little guidance.”

Arthur stood up and walked over to the table where the young men were sitting. He looked at the map where Timothy had pointed. “The best way is the market roads between the farms. They aren’t drawn here. You have to go through Stone Face Pass to get to Tabletop Mountain unless you want to go all the way south near the Undine River. The Ogres live in the mountains here and here.” He pointed to the very eastern edge of Gryphendale. “You shouldn’t have trouble with them in the middle of summer. It’s too bright and hot for them.”

Timothy and Nathaniel watched where Arthur pointed on the map.

“Are these market roads pretty easy to find?” asked Timothy, “I am not familiar with that pass, either. Are the roads a grid where we can head east at any point?”

Arthur puffed on his smooth English pipe some more and then held the pipe in both hands. “No, it’s more like a pile of yarn. You are going to have to take the right roads or it will turn you back this way.”

Timothy looked up from the map to Arthur. “I think a guide to Rokurokubi would be welcome.” He turned to Nathaniel who shrugged in response. “We can pay you. It should only take a couple of days.”

Arthur chewed his lip looking at the map. A little adventure and fresh air wouldn’t hurt. Then again, he knew how these things worked. One step led to another. Arthur moved his chair up to the table with the princes. His gut told him this was going to be more than a stroll through some farmland.

“Why you are wanting to go there? I do not want to be responsible for the death of two young princes who are just bored and trying to find a random thrill. You boys ought to be wise enough not to just go looking for trouble.” Arthur was trying to provoke them on purpose. What kind of men were these? What kind of trouble were they after? He wouldn’t get sucked into something he didn’t agree with.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes angrily and the color of his eyes turned from green to a reddish brown color. Timothy, on the other hand, smirked and raised an eyebrow.

“We don’t need his help,” said Nathaniel to his brother. “We aren’t children to be coddled. We have enough information to find our own way.”

“No. I think that he is precisely the sort of person we need,” said Timothy. “He has some perception. We never said we were princes, and he knows we are wanting to do something dangerous. He does not know the kind of people we are. We both have friends who would foolishly risk their lives for a thrill. I perceive that he isn’t just an ordinary Brownie.” Timothy leaned forward looking at Arthur in the eyes. “What adventures have you seen, old man? What secrets do you hide?”

Hickory just then brought over plates of food for the princes. Timothy quickly rolled up his map and put it in his bag. Arthur was relieved. He hadn’t expected Timothy to see through him. He watched them eat for a couple of seconds thinking about the two men’s responses. It told him a lot about them. There was no boasting, no bravado, and no interest in proving themselves. One brother wanted to just leave him and the other saw through him. There was confidence in both responses. They were certainly hungry enough to drop the conversation for some mouthfuls of hot stew.

The doors to the inn opened again. For a stormy night, Arthur thought, there seemed to be a lot of travelers. A tall Nomad with gray, bumpy skin swaggered into the inn and went directly to the bar. He wore the nomad keffiyeh over his head covering part of his face. His loose dark gray tunic and trousers were tied with a cloth belt. His clothes were worn out and soaked. The Nomad spoke quietly to Hickory at the bar. Hickory looked extremely upset at seeing the Nomad, but he served the stranger a drink. The Nomad untied his keffiyeh and laughed loudly. He carried the drink to a table in a dark corner. He sat with his back towards the wall so that he could keep an eye on the princes and the few Brownies in the room.

Timothy looked up from his food. “If we do tell you everything, would you be our guide? It would only be for a few days. You don’t have to come with us to the other side. It would be faster to have a guide than to wander around with old maps from the archives.”

“The other side?” said Arthur. His eyes shot back to Timothy. There were multiple things Timothy could mean, but Arthur felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He narrowed his eyes as he studied the young men. Could they mean what he thought they meant? It would be impossible.

Timothy and Nathaniel looked at each other. They had not expected Arthur to catch that. Their expressions caused Arthur’s insides to shake. He puffed on his pipe again.

“What are you boys trying to do?” he asked. It was impossible. He hoped that they weren’t trying to attempt what he suspected.

Nathaniel leaned forward over his food looking at Arthur intensely. “You are a highly unusual Brownie. You seem to know what we are saying before we even say it.”

The grayish Nomad on the other side of the room drank his glass and shouted out, “Barkeeper! I need another one! Just leave the bottle!”

Hickory and Arthur met eyes for an instant. It was enough for Arthur to know that Hickory was worried. Arthur sighed. This evening was completely ruined.

Timothy whispered, “Let us not jump to conclusions. We are not traveling for amusement but on a rescue mission. The Huldra ambassador from Samodivas has a daughter.”

“My fiancée, Lady Peony,” said Nathaniel.

“She was turned to stone by some people who claim to be from the other side. We have a letter they left demanding some sort of jewel be returned to their fortress.” Timothy watched Arthur carefully as he said this. He was gauging Arthur’s response. It was as though he was gathering as much information as he was giving.

“So the royal family, army, and politicians sent you two alone with no other help,” said Arthur.

Timothy laughed, but Nathaniel growled.

“Do you think we are unqualified?” said Nathaniel.

“No,” replied Arthur as he sat back chewing on his pipe.

They left on their own, he thought. It wasn’t unlike something he had done at their age.

Timothy put his hand on his brother’s shoulder, which seemed to calm him some. “I like you, Arthur. You understand what is going on quickly. The palace was greatly upset by the event and has made poor decisions. Other events, such as the flooding in the coastal towns, were distracting them from taking action.”

“I see,” said Arthur. “Who knows you are here?”

“Ambassador Toble,” said Timothy.

Old Toble, the ancient Dryad inventor and ambassador for the newly established Greenbow country! They might as well have not told anyone. He was over two hundred years old. He had had a hard time staying in reality thirty years ago when Arthur had last seen him.

Arthur shook his head. So these princes were taking it on their own shoulders to save the girl. Their parents wouldn’t be too happy, but these men certainly inherited their parents’ adventurous spirit. Arthur wasn’t sure if they were foolish or brave. It was best to wait and see.

“So, you are talking about the other side of the world,” said Arthur, “the shadow side of our floating island. You do know that people have only gone there in myths and legends. Even then, they only went with magic. There are no paths to the other side through Rokurokubi.”

Timothy smirked, leaned back and crossed his arms. “Leave that to me. We will get there from Rokurokubi. You just need to take us to where we need to go.”

Arthur puffed his pipe looking at Timothy and Nathaniel. Could these boys do it? Could they really make it to the other side? It was a death wish.

The Nomad on the other side of the room drained another glass and burped loudly.

“That man is here to cause your friend trouble,” whispered Nathaniel, watching the nomad as he took another bite of his supper. His eyes glistened black. “I have seen him before. He is wanted in Dwende. He goes around threatening innkeepers and store clerks, then offers to not follow through with his threat for a fee.”

Arthur shrugged.

He didn’t have to say anything. Hickory had the money. He had been through this before. It wasn’t a new trick. Sometimes it was worth spending the money so the riff-raff would just move on to another town. Arthur would have liked to help his friend, but Hickory didn’t want to damage his inn. Something in Arthur wanted to see what the young men would do, though.

Timothy glanced back at the stranger. The last Brownie guests walked out of the inn into the rain. It was now just the five of them. The nomad walked up to the bar where Hickory stood and slammed the empty glass down.

“I want double the payment!” He slurred his words drunkenly. His keffiyeh fell from his head down to his shoulders. He was a half Ogre who stood taller than Hickory. His snout-like nose and pointed ears stood out from his bald, gray head.

Nathaniel stood up from his chair and walked to the bar. His brown fox tail swished casually. He wasn’t quite as tall as the nomad, but close enough to look him in the eye.

“I think you are supposed to pay the bar for that drink. Not the other way around,” said Nathaniel. He leaned against the bar in a non-aggressive way, but Arthur could see the tension in his arms. He was ready for action if needed.

“Who are you?” said the gray skinned Nomad, still slurring his words together. “This has nothing to do with you.”

“Pay the barkeeper and go home.” Nathaniel straightened up with authority and placed his hand lightly on the hilt of his sword.

The Nomad had an incredulous expression. “What?” He half grunted as he turned towards the bar slightly as though to ignore Nathaniel. Suddenly, he pulled out an old, rusty dagger and swung back to stab Nathaniel in the gut.

Nathaniel was ready. He deflected the Nomad’s stabbing attack with his forearm. With his other hand, he grabbed the Nomad’s arm that held the dagger. Nathaniel twisted the arm around, and, in the same movement, stabbed the Nomad in the leg with his own dagger. The whole thing lasted less than a second and was over.

The Nomad screamed out in pain and fell to the floor. He rolled around on the ground as blood surged from his leg with the dagger still in it.

Nathaniel looked at Hickory. “He will need a doctor, and the royal guard will be interested in his activities.”

“Right!” Hickory handed Nathaniel his bar rag and ran out into the rain to fetch both.

Nathaniel knelt down to help the nomad. The dagger had sliced into the Nomad’s thigh muscle. With how much he was bleeding, it probably had hit an artery. There was no way he could walk on that leg for months even if the bleeding was stopped quickly.

“Get away from me!” he shouted at Nathaniel. The nomad tried to get up and fell back down while crawling towards the door. He shouted out in pain as he gasped for breath holding his leg.

Nathaniel sighed. He threw the rag at the injured man and went back to his seat in front of his supper.

By the time the Nomad crawled to the door, Hickory was already back with a group of people who carried the screaming man to another room.

“What a pain,” said Nathaniel taking a bite from his stew.

Arthur stood up with his pipe. He felt confident that the young men could at least take care of themselves.

“He got what he asked for. I will see you both in the morning. I’ll be your guide, not just to Rokurokubi, but to the other side and back.” Arthur felt startled by his own words. When did he decide to do that?

Timothy and Nathaniel looked up at Arthur in surprise.

“You don’t have to do that. We know full well that we are risking our lives on this adventure. It won’t be easy,” said Timothy.

“Why would you even want to do that?” asked Nathaniel.

“Because you will need me,” said Arthur ending the conversation. There was a lot more that they could talk about, but he was emotionally tired of the evening.

Arthur walked up the stairs at the back of the inn to his room. He turned into the first door on the right closing it behind him. He sat on the simple wooden bed in his room and puffed on his pipe.

He had just volunteered for his first major adventure in thirty years. The princes were both well qualified to deal with the average bully and bandit. They had more experience than he did on his first adventure. They weren’t baby-faced farm boys.

Then why was he going on this adventure? What made his heart race at the idea? He had ended his adventures a lifetime ago. Why do this now?

Arthur looked at himself in the mirror that sat on the dresser. He frowned at the old, hairy man he saw looking back at him in the reflection. His short, brown and gray hair had more gray than brown. His wrinkled, leathery skin, large nose, and large pointed ears that stuck out from his head was a stark contrast to the chiseled, good-looking young men who sat downstairs.

“You aren’t seventeen anymore, you know. You are an old fool weighing down two well trained young princes. You need to mind your own business and spend more time with your kids and grandkids. If they get themselves killed, it isn’t your business.”

Arthur frowned deeper.

“Not going to happen,” Arthur told himself pointing at the mirror with his pipe. “I don’t want to just sit in front of the fire and rot. I don’t want to build a farm. I don’t want to get old without a fight. Clara was a good wife. Basil and Hansel are good sons, but they know I wasn’t made for this. I need this adventure. Yes, I am an old fool, but that’s what happens when young fools don’t die young.”

Arthur looked at the thick scar that ran from the middle of his forehead into his hairline and around toward his ear. There was a second scar going from his neck around to his back.

“Those boys don’t know what is waiting for them on the other side, but you do. They need you. Old fool or not, they will need you. The great Gryphon led those boys to the only person in this entire world who could help them. For some reason, all three of us were chosen. This isn’t an accident. One month ago I would have never gone with them. Yet here I am.”

Arthur grunted and nodded to himself.

He spent the rest of the evening packing and writing letters to his sons.