Which Nyara also knew, intimately.
She knelt before him until her legs ached from the stones and bits of branch beneath them-which he would not permit her to clear away. He lounged on a blanket of fur spread over a fallen tree trunk by a servant, making him an impromptu throne. The golden mage-light above his head glistened on his hair, the tips of the fur, and on the bat-wings of his two giant guardian-beasts, half wolf, half something she could not even name, creatures whose heads loomed even with his when he stood.
Some of her scars had come from the teeth of those beasts, lessonings in her proper place in the scheme of things, and the proper demeanor to display. Thus she had learned not to move until told, or speak until spoken to.
"Well," he said at last, his voice deep, calm, smooth and soothing.
There was a wealth of warm amusement in his voice, which meant he was pleased. She soon discovered why.
"You took my invitation to flee to the Birdfools as if you had thought of it yourself, dear daughter," he chuckled. "I am proud of you." She burned with humiliation. So it had all been his idea, from the inattentive guards, to the captive dyheli herd. Without a doubt, he had planned everything, knowing how she would react to anything he presented in her path. She should have known..."You followed my plan to the letter, my child," he said with approval. "I am very pleased with you. I assume that they invoked a Truth-Spell upon you?"
"Of a kind," she whispered, shivering with shamed pleasure as his approval warmed and excited her. "The Birdkin do not trust me, yet.
They keep me in a dwelling of sorts at the border, with hertasi and one Birdkin scout to watch."
"One scout only?" Mornelithe threw back his head and laughed, and the guardian-beasts hung out their tongues in frightening parodies of a canine grin. "They trust you more than you think, little daughter, if they set only one to watch you. Are there no other watchers on you?" She could not help herself; she was compelled to answer truthfully.
But she could make him force it out of her a word at a time, and perhaps he would grow tired before he learned all the truth. Let him think it was fear that tied her tongue. "Two," she whispered.
"Hertasi?" She shook her head. He frowned, and she trembled. "Tervardi, then?" She shook her head again, hope growing thin that he would lose interest.
Surely not dyheli? No?" His frown deepened, and she lost any hope of hiding her friends' identities. "What are they? Speak!" He reached out a tendril of power to curl about her. A hand of pain tightened around her mind, though not so much that she could not speak.
Her body convulsed. "Gryphons," she whimpered, through tears of agony and anger. "Gryphons." The pain ceased, and she slumped over her knees, head hanging, hands clasped together tightly. she fought to control her tears so that he would not know how she had come to like the pair, and so have yet another weapon to hold over her.
"Gryphons." His voice deepened, and the guardian-beasts growled.
Gryphons, here. This requires-thought.
I will have more of these gryphons out of you, my child. But later."
She looked up, cheeks still wet with tears. He was looking past her, into the dark forest, his mind elsewhere than on her. Then he took visible hold of himself, and gazed down on her, sniffing when he saw her tears. He leaned down, and lifted a single drop on a long, talon-tipped finger, and licked it off, slowly, eyes narrowed as he watched her closely.
She shook with a desire she could not control, and that only he could command. He smiled with satisfaction.
"This Birdfool," he said, leaning back into his fur. "His name."
"Darkwind," she told him.
His eyes lit up from within, and again he laughed, long and heartily, and this time the beasts laughed with him in gravelly growls.
"Darkwind! The son of my dear friend Starblade! What delicious irony. Has Starblade seen you, my dearest?"
She shook her head, baffled by his words.
"What a pity; he'd have been certain to recognize you, as you would recognize him if you saw him." He laughed again, and she dared a question. Starblade??
"I have seen him, this Starblade?"
"Of course you have, my precious pet. He was my guest here for many days." Mornelithe's smile deepened, and he licked his lips. "Many, many days. You dined upon his pet bird, do you not recall? And I gave him the crow to replace it, once he learned his place beneath me.
Nyara's eyes widened, as she remembered the Tayledras Mornelithe had captured and broken; how she had been so jealous of the new captive, who had taken her place, however briefly, in Mornelithe's attentions.
How she had so amused Mornelithe with her jealousy that he had chained her in the corner of his bedroom, like a pet dog, so that she was forced to watch him break the new captive to his will.
And he, the former captive, without a doubt would remember her.
"My little love, if you can contrive a way for Starblade to see you, I should very much be pleased," Mornelithe said caressingly. "It would enlarge my vengeance so well, to know that he knew that I had an agent in place on his ground, subverting his beloved son. It would be delicious to know how his mind must burn, and yet he could do and say nothing about it."
"I do not think I can manage that," she told him timidly. "He never leaves the Vale, and I may not go within it."
"Ah, well," Mornelithe said, waving the idea aside. "If you can, it would be well. But if not, I am not going to contrive it at the moment." His expression grew abstracted for a moment.
She ventured another question. "Is there something that I should know, my lord?" He looked down at her, and smiled, shaking his head. "It is no matter.
There are other matters requiring my attention just now, a bit weightier than this. My vengeance has waited long, and it can wait a little longer." She sighed with relief, thinking that he was finished with her, that he had forgotten about Treyvan and Hydona-Only to have her hopes crushed.
"The gryphons," he said, suddenly looking down at her again, and piercing her with his eyes. "Tell me about the gryphons. Everything." Compelled by his will, she found herself reciting all that she knew about them, in a lifeless, expressionless voice. Their names, the names of their two fledglings; what they looked like, where they nested. Why they had chosen to nest there.
And that there was going to be another mating flight shortly.
He sat straight up at that-and she huddled in on herself, shivering, her teeth chattering, free from his compulsion and sick inside with her own treachery.
She looked up at him, from under her lashes. His eyes were blank, his thoughts turned entirely within. Even his guardian-beasts were quiet, holding their breath, not wanting to chance disturbing him.
Then-he stared down at her, and pointed his finger at her, demandingly, the talon fully extended. "More!" he barked, his words and will lashing her like barbed whips. "Tell me more!" But she had nothing more to tell him, and so he punished her, lashing her with his mind, inflicting pain that would leave no outward signs, nor anything that a Healer could read, but whose effects would linger for days.