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bombardment of the army formed up on the plains below them.

The clan of the Condor, led by Hadrian, attacked first, but either because they had

less bravery, or less experience, their bombardment was largely ineffectual, for they did not fly low enough before releasing to hit a great deal.

Talin contained his fury with an effort. Although it did not escape him, or anyone

else for that matter, that the Condor managed to stay well out of range of the archers, he realized they would have to give them the benefit of doubt if they were not to part ways at once.

The clan of the Eagle did somewhat better. They, at least, displayed no hesitancy

about flying low enough to do considerable damage, but their accuracy left something to be desired and many became so enraged when they saw how little actual damage they

were doing that they ceased the bombardment and began diving at the soldiers below,

slashing at them with their rapier sharp talons and beaks until the soldiers finally drove them off or killed them.

His own clansmen, either from an equal but opposing idiocy, or from a misplaced

determination to make quick work of a bad business, took chances they should not have.

Their bombardment was effective, more than any had anticipated, for they flew so low to drop their bombs that he lost damned near a quarter of his men to the archers, who felt smug right up until the moment that the great Falcons began to rain from the sky. The deaths of the man beasts brought about utter chaos as they slammed into the earth, killing or maiming any of the man children unfortunate enough to be standing in their path and too slow to get out of the way.

It turned the tide of the battle, however. The ranks broke and the panicked men

began to run. Before the leaders could rally their men and return the ranks to order, the THE DEVIL’S CONCUBINE

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army of the man beasts, many of them armored as the man children were, charged from

the forest surrounding the battlefield, cutting down hundreds of the man children before they even realized that they had fled right into an ambush.

By the time the sun began to set, the bodies of the man beasts and the man

children littered the ground for miles. Both armies withdrew to count their losses and lick their wounds.

In consideration of those among his men who were too wounded to withdraw any

great distance, which included Talin himself, the Falcon clan settled in the foothills to do what they could for the wounded. The Wyvern had brought with them potions concocted

by the Wizard Mortiver, but these, they found, were largely ineffectual against the magic the man children brought to battle. Those who had been ‘bitten’ by the poison tipped arrows died in spite of everything anyone could think to do. Those, like Talin, who had been fortunate enough only to catch the shafts with invisible tips survived because Talin had learned that only removing what they could see would not be enough. Weakened by

the loss of blood, they had, perforce, to remain where they were for another full day before they were all strong enough to move on.

There was some sense of accomplishment to buoy their spirits. Despite their own

losses, which were great, they had managed to do what they had set out to. They had

whittled the man children’s army down to a size they had some chance of defeating.

Certain King Andor would gather what remained of his army and move as quickly

as he could now to join with the army from across the sea, Talin took his own clan

members home to rest and recuperate while they could.

Despite the dangerous amount of time Talin had allowed for the injured to heal,

he was so weak and exhausted by the time he reached the palace that he was aware of

very little beyond the fact that Aliya had come out to watch their return. When he woke later, he discovered that he was ensconced in his bed and Aliya sat near the hearth as she had before when he had been injured.

This time he had not had to feign being worse off than he was. He did not even

have a clear memory of the trip from the foothills home.

As if she sensed his gaze, Aliya looked up from the needle she was plying.

Smiling when she saw he was awake, she set her needlework aside and crossed the room, settling one hip on the edge of the bed. “Hungry?”

The warmth he’d felt at her nearness vanished. “If it is to be gruel, then no.”

Aliya chuckled. “I will send for whatever you like.”

Catching her around the waist, he dragged her across his body and pressed her

into the mattress. “I hunger for you,” he murmured, burrowing his face against her

throat.

“I am not at all certain that is the sort of sustenance you need right now,” she

murmured.

“Which goes to show you have no notion of what I need.”

She stroked his hair and ran a hand lightly along his back. As tempting as it was

to give in to his lovemaking, she did not want to tire him more and delay his recovery. In any case, there were matters of state that required his attention. “There is someone

waiting to see you.”

Talin lifted his head to look at her quizzically.

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“The council elders returned while you were gone. They have brought a man

whom they believe will be able to help us.”

Talin’s gaze sharpened, flicking over her face measuringly. Somehow, she didn’t

think that was entirely because of her announcement, but instead of pursuing the matter, she climbed off of the bed and moved to the bell pull she had had installed, glancing back to see if Talin was suitably impressed.

He was watching her curiously.

When a maid appeared after a few moments and she sent the woman to fetch the

visitor, he frowned. “As much as I enjoy your coddling, I am not so weak and ill that I must receive in my bed,” he said chidingly.

“But you will indulge me?”

He sent her a wicked glance. “Only because it suits my own preferences at the

moment,” he murmured in a voice laden with promise.

As tempting as it was to pursue that line of conversation, Aliya knew the elders

had been waiting impatiently to be allowed to speak to Talin so she merely sent him an arch look and crossed the room to retrieve her work basket.

“Stay,” Talin said when he saw her intent.

Aliya glanced at him in surprise. “They might not be comfortable speaking of

state matters in front of me,” she pointed out.

“They will get over it.”

Shrugging, Aliya settled with her work once more. A few moments later, there

was a tap at the door. At Talin’s summons, the council members trooped in followed by a fifth man.

Talin pushed himself slowly upright as he studied the stranger.

His attire was strange enough, for he wore only a length of pure white fabric

wrapped around his waste that ended at his knees and resembled a very short skirt rather than breeches or loincloth. His strange appearance went far beyond that, however, for his skin was golden, more like the precious metal than his own tan skin, which was more of a warm brown than real gold.

The hair that grew from his head and fluttered around his shoulders in a long,

straight mass was cerulean.

“I am Syrian,” the man said, bowing respectfully. “I am most happy to offer my

services to your cause.”

Talin frowned. “You are a wizard?”

Syrian smiled apologetically. “Alas, no. I am well versed, however, in Alchemy,

which you may find useful. Primarily, I have come to offer my gift of sight.”

Talin glanced from the man to the council elders, who were beaming at him as if

they had produced a miracle. “My own sight is quite keen,” he said slowly, wondering if he would have to guess what purpose the elders had thought the man would serve.

Syrian’s smile broadened. “Apologies that I failed to make myself clear, Sire.

But even you can not see what I can see.”

“What is it that you can see?”

“The future. The past. What will be. What might come to pass. I am a Seer.”

Talin merely stared at the man for many moments. Finally, he nodded. “I am not

interested in hearing how the war will end,” he said finally, keeping the irritation from his voice with an obvious effort.

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Looking unperturbed, the Seer merely bowed. “Would you find it useful to know

where your army will go? When? How many men he will have with him? What

strategy he has planned for each confrontation? Would you find it helpful to know what magic he uses so that you would know how to guard yourself against it?”

Talin looked at him with more interest. “You can see these things?”

Syrian nodded. “I will not boast that I can always see all things, but many things,

yes, that will help you in this battle with your enemy.”

Talin frowned. “What could I offer you in return that you could not gain for

yourself?”

“Acceptance. A home. Peace among people who will not despise me for being

different.”

Talin considered it for several moments and finally shook his head. “I can not

guarantee any of that save that I will do what I can for you if you will help me to save my people. I will see to it that you find a place among the man beasts, respect, and peace from harm or pursuit. But only you can ensure your acceptance.”

Syrian executed a movement that was somewhere between a salute, a bow, and a

nod. “I do not expect to receive what is not yours to give,” he murmured and then

glanced at Aliya, his expression growing somber, his eyes sad. “And I can not prevent a war that was foretold long ago.” He returned his attention to Talin. “I am here because it was written that I would be the instrument of the man beasts’ salvation. When the elders came, I knew that it was time.”

* * * *

“I know you are afraid, Aliya,” Talin said gently. “But I will not allow harm to

come to you. Do not argue with me on this.”

Aliya frowned. “I can not believe that I would be safer elsewhere than I am here.

The palace can not be scaled by the army you are facing. The spire which holds it aloft in the sky is higher than any tree. How could they climb up even to begin an assault? They can not fly as you can.”

Talin’s face hardened. “They have magic, Aliya. They do not need to come up. I

can not be certain that their magic would not bring it down, and if that happened you could not escape on your own--nor your ladies.”

Aliya felt something cold clench inside of her at the image that instantly brought

into her mind. She nodded.

Talin pulled her close, his arms tightening around her. “I do not like this any more

than you do. There is safety in the place we have found, but little comfort.”

Aliya smiled against his chest. “I am not so fragile as you seem to believe. I can

handle the discomfort and will, gladly, if it eases your mind.” She hesitated for a

moment. “It is the flight there that petrifies me.”

“Shameful,” Talin murmured with a chuckle. “You are the concubine of the king

of the Golden Falcon! You should not quake only at the thought of flying.”

She pulled away and looked up at him but she found it difficult to smile.

Kissing her lightly on the forehead, he released her. “You are packed?”

She nodded, moving to the bed and lifting the strap to show him that the pack he

had given her was full. He grasped the strap and tugged, pretending it was too heavy to lift and drawing a rueful smile.

“It is not that full!” she said with a chuckle.

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He tapped her chin and then flicked a finger along her cheek. “That is better.

It was dark when they reached the courtyard. The moon had set long since and

dark clouds skidded across the sky, obscuring even much of the stars. Aliya shivered, turning to glance at Lady Beatrice and Lady Leesa who were huddled together in fright nearby.

When she turned to look at Talin again, he stood before her as a great falcon.

“This time I will carry you on my back. It will more comfortable for you, I think.”

“It could not be less,” Aliya quipped, wondering how she was supposed to climb

up on his back and if she could hang on tightly enough to keep from falling. Someone touched her arm and she turned to see that Solly had come up beside her. Bowing, he

grasped her around the waist and lifted her up. When she was settled against his soft, warm feathers, he handed her the satchel, which she slung across her shoulder. To her surprise, instead of walking away, he began to fiddle with some sort of leather harness, which he draped across Talin’s back and then fastened beneath his belly. Lifting a strap, he moved one over each of her shoulders.

Relief flooded her.

She should have known that Talin would take care that she was safe!

The flight was unnerving for all that she felt reasonably secure and could not see

the vast emptiness beneath her. Talin had told her to dress warmly, and she had, but she was still chilled to the bone and her teeth chattering by the time they at last began to descend again.

As relieved as she was to know that their journey was ending, a terrible sense of

dread began to seep into her, for she knew that Talin would leave her here, and she was not at all certain that she would see him again.

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Chapter Twenty One

The place they were going, Talin had told Aliya once they were airborne, had

once been a part of the temple built on Mount Carceras to the old gods. The temple had been erected on top of the caverns that, it had once been said, led to the underworld and the realm of the demons, so that the old gods could guard the gateway and prevent the evil ones from escaping into the world of man.

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