Leslie Moore - Griffin's Daughter

“ You are here, and you are safe,” he said. “Are you ready to go?”

“ Yes. Please…Lead on,” Jelena replied.

Ashinji led Jelena along a short corridor to a descending staircase. He slipped his arm around her shoulders, lending her support. She felt grateful for the help-her legs were still a little weak from disuse, and it gave her a chance to be close to him. She wanted so much to rest her head on his collarbone and breathe in his scent-so different from that of a human man-but she dared not. Ashinji had been unfailingly polite and decorous; his behavior was totally in keeping with his high station. It would be shamefully presumptuous to think that he would welcome such attentions, especially from her, a foreigner and a half-breed.

I must keep my feelings under control, keep things in perspective, she thought. I could get swept away so easily! There could never be anything between Ashinji and me other than friendship.

Three flights down and through another door, they emerged onto an outside landing above a sunny courtyard. Jelena looked up and saw that she had been lodged on the uppermost floor of a semi-detached wing off the main building. They descended the wooden staircase to the gravel-covered yard below.

“ Come. I will lead you around to the front of the main hall,” Ashinji said. He released his hold on her shoulders and beckoned with a wave of his hand. Jelena sighed regretfully and started after him, her eyes in constant motion as she took in her surroundings.

Jelena had spent her entire life within the walls and precincts of Amsara Castle, and she knew the details of its architecture intimately, thanks partly to Magnes, but mostly from her own explorations. Kerala Castle seemed nothing like Amsara at first glance. They crossed the small courtyard and exited through a wooden gate carved with the figures of fantastical beasts. A gravel path led off through a garden of flowering shrubbery. The perfume of the blossoms hung lightly in the warm air, like the sweet promise of spring.

To the right loomed the main bulk of the castle. Built in a series of graduated tiers-Jelena counted four in all-the castle resembled a multi-layered cake crowned by a sloping tiled roof with upturned corners. Rain gutters, shaped like the heads of dragons, adorned each corner. The walls were of white plastered wood, set with many narrow rectangular windows in the bottom three tiers. The fourth and highest tier, Jelena could see, had fewer but much larger windows, a feature she had never seen in any building before. She imagined that they afforded an amazing view of the surrounding countryside. At the moment, most of the castle’s upper windows were open to the spring breezes. The entire structure sat atop an imposing base of tightly fitted stone blocks, pierced at regular intervals with what looked like arrow slits.

Off to the left, Jelena could see the castle’s inner wall rising like a stone curtain above the garden. The figures of sentries, silhouetted darkly against the bright spring sky, made slow progress along the battlements. The path and the garden ended at a large yard that fronted the castle’s main wing. At the top of a short flight of wide, shallow steps, a pair of spear-toting guards flanked the castle’s entrance. At present, the heavy rectangular wooden doors stood open. Directly opposite, a gate pierced the curtain wall, topped by a gatehouse built with the same style of sloping tiled roof as the main castle. The massive, iron-bound leaves of the gate proper also stood open, but Jelena could not tell what lay beyond.

Ashinji stopped and opened his arms expansively, as if he wished to embrace the entire castle complex. “This is my home,” he said with a touch of pride in his voice. “Through there,” he pointed at the gate, “the ground slopes rather steeply down to the base of the hill where the outer wall is built. The main gate leads out onto a bridge that spans the south channel of the river. You cannot really tell from up here, but Kerala Castle is built on a rocky island in the middle of the Saihama River. You Soldarans call the river Janica.”

Jelena nodded in understanding. “How far are we from…where you found my cousin and me?” Jelena asked.

“ About two days’ ride west from the fords. Maybe twelve of your leagues. Come. I will take you down to the lower yard.” As they walked toward the open gate, Ashinji continued his commentary. “My ancestor Kaiji Sakehera built Kerala Castle about nine hundred years ago. My family has been here ever since. The original castle was much smaller than it is now. Each lord since Kaiji has added to it so it now takes up the entire island. My father has not done any new construction, but he has done a lot of remodeling, mostly to modernize the place.”

As they passed beneath the gatehouse, the two guards snapped to attention. One of them called out what sounded to Jelena like a greeting, which Ashinji answered with a smile and a wave.

“ Your language sounds so… I don’t know… so musical ,” Jelena observed. “It’s beautiful to listen to.”

“ I would be happy to teach you to speak Siri-dar. It is as much a part of your heritage as is Soldaran. That is, if you choose to stay among us.” He stopped walking and turned to face her. Something in his face and eyes, there and gone in an instant, left Jelena feeling a little bewildered. She got the distinct impression of someone filled with intense longing for a thing that they feared they could not have.

Careful, don’t get carried away, she cautioned herself.

“ I would very much like that,” she replied, and was rewarded by his smile, a flash of strong, white teeth. They started walking again down the sloping path that led towards the lower yards. Jelena could see the gate more clearly now, with its double-sided gatehouse and guard towers at each corner. In the yard below lay the stables, the smithy, and what looked like guard barracks. Off to the right lay a large, flat, grassy area, a smaller yard enclosed on three sides by a brick wall topped with a partial roof, and several buildings Jelena couldn’t readily identify. The myriad sounds of a working castle, so familiar to a young woman raised in a place much like this one, drifted upward on warm draughts of air.

There were many people about-plainly dressed servants hurrying on various errands, off-duty soldiers lounging in the shade, a small pack of laughing children. Everyone they passed offered a warm smile and a greeting to Ashinji, and he responded in kind. Clearly, Jelena thought, the people of Kerala harbored a great affection for their young lord.

The sound of a bleating goat unexpectedly jabbed a thorn of homesickness into her heart. She thought of Claudia and had to quickly pretend to wipe grit from her eyes in order to cover her tears. She imagined her foster mother, elbow-deep in suds, calling out orders to the laundry drudges under her command. Later, Claudia would take her midday meal in the kitchen with the other servants, surrounded by people she had known most of her life, yet feeling alone, without the girl she had raised as her daughter. That night, she would retire to the room that she and Jelena had shared for so long, and she would truly be alone.

“ Ah, here is your cousin,” Ashinji announced, breaking Jelena’s melancholy reverie. Magnes strode up the path towards them, sipping from a waterskin. They walked down to meet him.

“ Whew! Your man Gendan gave me quite a workout, Ashinji,” Magnes exclaimed. “The swords they make here are excellent, Jelena. And you should see their armor. Truly exceptional. I still can’t figure out how it’s done, even after examining Ashinji’s up close.” Magnes’s flushed face dripped with sweat, and the linen elven-style tunic he wore was soaked through. He beamed at Jelena. “Cousin, you are looking almost like your old self again. I believe I can see the roses blooming in your cheeks as we speak.”