Apparently, Gilda was a leader now, or something like a symbol. Having spent the remaining morning hours until lunchtime mingling with the arriving griffons, she caught them mumbling awkward words of amazement, or just staring at her in wonder. The griffons of Thunderpeak must have been spreading disproportional wonders about her, it seemed.

She was not complaining, though. It was awkward, but still nice to be acknowledged by griffons she didn’t even know.

She liked the sound of their voices muttering marvels about her, but curiosity also drove her. She wanted to know what would cause a griffon to leave their homes in the comfortable South and come to the savage and cold North. Turned out most of them didn’t really have a choice. When some dude in Griffonstone gave the order, it put things in motion and the gears ground everyone into shape regardless.

The most common story was that they were asleep in their homes when someone knocked on their doors and told them they had to leave. So, they did, because Northerners didn’t try to pull pranks. They knew it was serious. The rest were details. Some of them spoke of fighting in the city’s streets and blind panic, but they fortunately managed to get to the teleporter and made it to Thunderpeak, then to the first step of their journey further into the North. The lands under The Harpy’s command. That was how they saw Wayfarer’s Rest.

And Gilda couldn’t blame them, considering the locals wanted them gone as soon as possible.

Most of them were scared. Some of them were excited. A few were too excited. And seeing Gilda seemed to have galvanized those expectations. Especially with Gelinda hyping her up. Gilda had caught her doing it on multiple occasions.

Gilda supposed that the loremaster would want to see those griffons gone from Wayfarer’s Rest. And since her caravan was going to travel with a lot of griffons, they might as well take all they could. Kinda like a charity of sorts.

It would probably be a good idea if Gilda went to talk to the griffon guy that understands this caravan stuff and let him know they’ll be taking a few more with them. She decided she was done talking to the new arrivals once her stomach began complaining of the lack of food. Beyond the clouds, the sun had reached zenith and the cold had subsided enough that she found herself pulling at her scarf.

On her way back to the inn she found one of the innkeeper’s daughters with what smelled deliciously of roasted meat inside leaf packages. The green packs were stacked on a pair of trays on her back, and she wore a harness that held two more trays to her sides. She asked that each of the newcomers grab one, and two of the local law enforcement griffons kept close to her. Making sure everyone got theirs, but also that they didn’t grab more than one. Things were going nicely, compared to the tension those griffons suffered when going through inspection. They had learned quickly to behave in that place.

Gilda grimaced. The stakes by the entrance and the guards barking at them not to fly would have that effect alright.

“Hey.” Gilda approached the pretty queen with a friendly smile. “Nice of you guys to feed them.”

“Thanks!” She grinned at Gilda while standing in place for the griffons to get their food. “The city’s leadership is paying for the food. We’re just not profiting. And… Well, there’s the Law of Hospitality.”

“How’s that work?” Gilda sat next to her.

“Oh. It’s one of The Harpy’s Commandments.” She piped. “You’re not supposed to shun a griffon that asks for help. If you can, you must give them shelter and food until they can leave. No less than a night.”

“I see.” Gilda rubbed her chin. It was reasonable. Food wasn’t free anyways. Even if the inn had its own hunters, they’d need hunting supplies and have salaries to pay. Meanwhile this law of hospitality ensured that griffons in need would be helped. “Well, good job, anyways.”

She left the griffonness to her work of literally standing there while the others got their food and walked into the inn. One of the city guards opened the door for her and she nodded acknowledgement at him.

Inside, the main hall still smelled of good food and had a comfortable warmth. It reminded Gilda it was still cold outside after she had worn off all the walking and talking. The family of innkeepers worked hard as usual, but also kept the inn working with the mother behind the counter. She waved at Gilda with her typical enthusiasm and Gilda waved back at her.

Further in the back, Gilda found the two ponies under watch by the two ex-GSA soldiers and Grunhilda. The white griffoness sat next to them, staring them down with a focused glare. That wasn’t exactly what she had in mind when she asked Big Girl to keep an eye on the ponies, but she would take it.

Suddenly one of the innkeeper’s sons came to her with an award-winning grin and flared wings. “Lunch will be served soon, Lady Gilda! We’ve prepared the meeting room for you to feast with your servants!”

“Ah… Thanks.” She grinned awkwardly. “But they’re not my servants. They’re more like… Uh… Employees?”

He just stared at her with a confused blank expression that then shifted back into an excited grin. “Yes! Your servants! If you wait in the meeting room, we’ll serve some appetizing spiced wine too!”

Awkward, but she decided it would be best to just let go and accept it. She simply thanked him with her best grin. He walked around her with the happiest smile, going back to work.

Since the two soldier guys and Grunhilda had the ponies under control, she decided that she could do with some of that wine. After all, it was about time she started enjoying the finer things in life. The double doors were open, and she crossed them with a relaxed gait.

The smells of the main hall were replaced by the new roasting deer in the firepit, and the table had been reorganized around it with one single seat at the head of the U-shaped table.

“Oh boy…” She let escape. It was covered in expensive white sheets with black lining and discreet black bars by the corners. Lots of plates and cups too, including earthenware jugs.

It took her a moment to recover from the shock, but since she was going to embark on a difficult and long trip, she might as well let herself be pampered. And if the locals wanted to pamper her and her friends with fancy stuff, plentiful food, and expensive drinks, there was nothing wrong in accepting it. Much less enjoying it. Right?

It is time you stopped feeling so conscious about receiving bounty that is due to your station. I believe I have mentioned it before. It grows ever so more frustrating. What more must I do? What more must I relinquish unto you of my power so that you will understand you are a favorite of mine?

Right.

But Gilda contained her grin. Sitting next to the main table, at a desk covered in parchment, and armed with feather pen and ink, was Mister Gillian. She approached with the same calm steps.

“Hey.” She greeted him, letting her wings open a little.

“Hello, ma’am.” He said without looking at her for a couple of seconds. He was busy writing some numbers on one of the parchments. He had a large book with thick pages open over the desk and barely organized parchment all over. Gillian was reading from his older notes on that book and writing numbers on the parchment for a while. Not that Gilda could read any of that, as griffons were known for their horrible calligraphy.

Finally, he looked at her with a smile on his cyan beak. “So, it seems we’ll be actually traveling with a little more than ‘just a few griffons’.”

“Yeah.” She grinned sheepishly, clicking her talons together. “Sorry about that. Things kept getting complicated.”

He shook his head calmly. “It’s alright. It’s my job, after all. I’m used to it. The unexpected is almost expected in this line of work.”

She sat across the desk from him, on the red sitting pillow. “So… Is the whole caravanning thing too complicated? I suppose there is gotta be a lot of work involved. And things only professionals know. Especially with so many griffons and stuff to haul around.”

“No.” His focus went back to the parchment filled with tables, numbers, and a few graphs. All those things that Gilda hated. Her knowledge of mathematics ended at the rule of three. “It’s a matter of organization. Caravans are caravans, large or small. They all need some carts, food, repair parts, workers, and supplies in general. A few, or a lot.”

“Yeah, you may say that.” Gilda strummed her fingers on the table. “But I’m glad you’re here. I wouldn’t know what to do. And the locals would be likely to fleece me. I promise you that you and your griffons will be well paid.”

“I don’t doubt it.” He spoke again, focusing on the parchments. “A noble’s words mean a lot in the North. And I figure it is better to have friends rather than enemies. Regardless of what Gil thinks… I don’t believe that Griffonia is going to avoid change. Or even that it should.”

“Speaking of Gil…” Gilda’s eyes shifted to a conspicuous squint. “Are you aware your daughter is getting married?”

“Yes. To Guille.” He went back to writing numbers on that parchment. “I’d rather she did that than cause trouble. And he is a nice tom.”

“I don’t think you’ll be allowed to go back South.” Gilda’s eyes were big with worry.

“I didn’t think I would have to.” His eyes raised from the parchment to meet hers. “I thought I would be working for you.”

Gilda blinked a couple of times, but then spoke with certainty. “Right. At least until this mess of civil war is done and Griffonia is whole again.”

“I have no real attachments to the South. Or any place. I always went where my job took me.” He went back to his numbers. “And I’m likely to come out richer on the other side.”

“An opportunist survivor, huh?” Gilda smirked at him.

“So says Loremaster Gelinda.” He raised his eyes from the parchment to look at her with a smirk of his own this time. “I would be a terrible caravan master if I couldn’t smell the Eagles to be made in the places I went or with the griffons I worked for.”

“And just so that you know…” His attention went back to the parchment, and he started writing some numbers at a table. “Gia tried to recruit me to convince you to leave the ponies behind. As well as the refugees.”

“Sheesh…” Gilda showed an angry frown. “I should have known.”

“She really overestimates how persuasive she can be.” He chuckled. “I’d reign her in, if she worked for me and I couldn’t fire her.”

Gilda chortled at that, despite her previous irritation.

“She should be valuable, though.” Gillian looked at Gilda again. Seriousness clear in his eyes instead of jesting mirth. “She does know the region better than I do. And Lord Gryskjal is going to be difficult. Especially if we want to leave a few southerner griffons under his vassalage. If my knowledge of him is true.”

“I have been hearing some things about this dude.” Gilda frowned. “Don’t worry. I’ll deal with him when the time comes. Just get us there and then to Griffindell. I’ll deal with Gia too… I suppose that having good associates is a good idea.”

“I would call it ‘retinue’. Sounds fancier that way.” He nodded and she responded with a fierce grin of appreciation. She had a lot to learn about being a northerner noble, but she was getting there. Gillian wasn’t done yet, though. “There is a small hitch. And I need to talk to you about it.”

“Shoot.” Gilda rested her elbow on the table.

“We’re gonna need more workers.” Gillian said. Although it was obvious. He put a talon to the parchment and ran it across the black ink. “More traction animals. More guards. Supplies are easy, but they cost money. Burden animals are harder and cost a lot too, but that is still manageable. Griffons… Well, we could ask among the refugees, but I doubt many of them have any experience in guard duty or caravanning.”

He shrugged. “It’s not just traveling with us. Most of them are just going to help set the caravan to leave. Load cargo and secure it, get paid and stay here when we leave.”

Gilda looked at the parchment then to him. Back to the parchment, and those numbers started to worry her. “There must be griffons looking for work in town.”

“Right.” He nodded again. “I just wanted to know if you were fine with it.”

“Do whatever you need to get us going.” Gilda shrugged. “And as fast as possible too. I would guess caravans take days to organize but do the best you can. Money shouldn’t be a problem. Even if I can’t pay, Lady Gwendolen can.”

Hopefully she wouldn’t object too much. But Gilda kept those thoughts behind her resolute expression.

“Alright.” He shrugged. “We already have our destination, and we don’t need to worry about prices and cargo other than a few possessions and griffons to haul. We can leave by the morning. Yes. Especially if I can get the locals to assist us.”

Gilda nodded her understanding again and he offered a paw before he spoke further. “Well, I’d like you to accompany me. If you were there to show your blessed, ‘Anointed of The Harpy’ face, it would help the negotiations.”

“Yeah. Makes sense.” She chuckled at his words, and in the end, in Griffonstone or in a random northerner city, griffons were still griffons. Gilda winked at him. “I’ll drag Gia along with us. Her Loremaster ‘visage’ will probably help a lot too. But it would be awesome if we could have lunch first. I’m kinda hungry.”

“Perfect!” He concluded with a smile and closed his book. The heavy leather cover was bent at the corners, but it looked solid. Especially with all the annexed pieces of parchment it had inside.

The innkeeper must have announced that lunch service would be starting, because the pair of ponies, Lost Temple and Moonbow, came inside. The mare even had a happy spring in her step, and he had the goofy smile ponies show when they’re having fun. At least he wouldn’t be so alone on the trip.

Grunhilda came after them, still watching them like a hawk, in the most ostensive and obtuse way possible. A deep, focused frown behind their necks the likes of which Gilda wondered how they didn’t feel like they were on fire.

Griffons were typically quite a bit larger than ponies but seeing Grunhilda next to them really showed how big she was.

The two ex-soldier guys entered the room too, but they were more… Gilda chose to call it ‘professional’. They nodded at her and then sat in different places on the table. At least, things would be under control if Grunhilda goofed up.

The innkeeper walked in right after, happier than the ponies were, and she spoke, flapping her wings once. “Please, take your place at the head of the table, Lady Gilda! And we’ll start serving lunch!”

“Great.” Gilda grinned and, after a second of thinking, she touched the rounder griffoness’ shoulder with a wing. “Good job.”

And that was how Gilda learned griffons could be so happy they figuratively floated when they walked. It gave her a nice feeling too, as she walked to her place at the table. Grunhilda didn’t wait and sat next to Gilda like it was her right.

It didn’t take long and the innkeeping family quickly served garlic bread and spiced wine. It struck Gilda that Gia wasn’t around, but she was distracted because the innkeeper entered the room with a young griffon cub almost too small to carry his charge. The scabbard for Mythical was ready and he gave it to her like he was handing her the sword itself.

She held the thing in her paws after turning on her seat. “It looks neat!”

Nothing too fancy, but it had a nice engraving in the hard upper half made of wood. It was finely carved, with scorched lines, making a beautiful design of a griffon’s head on profile. It looked like her, so Gilda decided it was her.

“Nice!” She grinned and looked back at the gray and white kid. “Did they pay you already?”

“Yes, ma’am.” He said plainly. “Is that all? Do you need anything?”

“Oh, no. Thanks.” She beamed and shook her head. She also took a final and long look at the scabbard before she turned to Grunhilda. “Hey, get this to our room.”

“Okay!” The white griffoness showed a grin of her own and took the thing from Gilda’s paw before she hopped over the table and raced out of the room carrying it in her beak.

“After…” Gilda spoke alone just as Grunhilda’s tail disappeared past the door. “We’re done eating?”

Gertha chuckled on the closest seat to the right. “You can’t fault her for being dutiful.”

“I suppose I can’t.” Gilda chuckled too as Gertha sampled the spiced wine.

“So, boss…” The pink griffoness smiled and put her glass back on the table. “I’ll get started with Grunhilda’s training in the afternoon. Unless you need her for something.”

Gilda wouldn’t have thought much of what Gertha had said. If not because the suggestive tone in her voice, the poorly masked lewd grin, and the subtle blush in her cheeks.

“The heck is that supposed to mean?” She glowered at the pink griffoness.

“Nothing!” The other squealed and immediately turned the other way, taking her glass of spiced wine with her. She took a sip and simply ignored Gilda henceforth.

Gilda squinted at her and hummed but chose not to press out of Gertha whatever her imagination had conjured up. Something distracted her. The distinct lack of Gia and Geary in that room Gilda noticed just as Grunhilda returned to the table. Other griffons accompanied her; the short Gosalynn, Madam Gelinda, Gil, and her fiancé. Also came a few griffons from the caravan that were all too happy to be there and tried to sit as close as possible to Gilda. But no Gia nor Geary.

“Hey, where’s Gia?” She asked no one in particular.

Gelinda stopped in her tracks with an angry stare. More than her usual stern one. “She tried to slink her way out from work almost an hour early. I didn’t let her, but I have no idea where she went after we decided to stop for lunch.”

“Oh. She should be coming soon then.” Gilda watched as the Loremaster sat close to her. “Do you mind if I take her to help me deal with the suppliers for the caravan?”

“Not at all.” Gelinda washed her paws with water from one of the jugs on the table. Something Gilda kicked herself for forgetting. “While she is not a particularly good Loremaster, she is well-trained enough that she can be of use, but if you need her, then, by all means… Just don’t let her have it too easy.”

Gilda nodded a simple acknowledgement and promptly washed her paws, as she should among the northerners as soon as the actual food started being served.

The wine gave way to cold water, mead, beer (both cold and hot), and fruit juices. The innkeepers served crispy slices of the roasted deer. But not only that as other meats were served too. Particularly pork and fowl drenched in various sauces. They were accompanied by slices and whole fruits, some of them roasted and dipped in their own sauces. There were also rustic and chunky cakes with seeds, which were also available raw or toasted.

Gilda found herself licking her beak as the young family of the innkeeper delivered the portions meant for her and the griffons next to her. The full course was divided into several trays, bowls and cutting boards filled with portions for each section of the table.

Delicious was the first word on her head as soon as she started sampling the meats and sauces that they delivered to her plate. With a pawful of toasted seeds and some of the mead, it all made for a delicious lunch.

But then Gilda noticed Gia still hadn’t showed up and frowned as she laid her mug back on the table. Next to her, Grunhilda didn’t mind it all and just kept devouring the roasted deer. An uncertain frown on her face, Gilda turned to Gertha. The pink griffoness took several gulps of mead in between the bites at the slices of game meat before Gilda finally spoke.

“Did anyone see Gia? At all?” Gilda frowned. She’d kick her hind if Gia tried to avoid helping her with the caravan. That foxy jerk was important to the safety of the caravan, and it included her own safety. She would be traveling too, after all.

Since no one answered, and just stared dumbly at Gilda, it was the plump innkeeper that spoke while she and one of her sons took empty plates from the table. “I saw her arrive. Lady Gia should still be in her room, Lady Gilda. She would have to go through the main hall if she left, and I was there the whole time.”

Gilda’s feathers ruffled just a bit. “Gia is doing her bitch routine…”

The short silence after she spoke was broken by Gil, sitting next to Guille. “Uh… Molly.”

“Molly what?” Gilda turned to her with a particularly not amused glare.

“She’s a molly. As in… A cat. Bitch is a dog. We’re cats… And birds. Not dogs.” Gil rummaged the pile of toasted black seeds she had on her plate. “It’s how the northerners say it… Anyways…”

Gertha coughed into her fist. “Riiiiight… Do we just let her be?”

“Heck no!” Gilda stood and slammed her paws on the table. Then she started on her way around it, drawing stares. “I’m dragging her rump with me and Gillian to the market.”

She stopped at the door, though, staring at the mercenary siblings. “And Grunhilda is coming with me, as are you two.”

Finally, with the two red-shaded griffons by her side and Grunhilda taking her place behind her, Gilda turned to the ex-soldier dudes she didn’t know the name of. She really ought to have a conversation with them. “Just make sure the ponies don’t do anything stupid.”

They nodded at her, even though Gilda felt like she was just trying to be the boss. It was about time, anyway. She wasn’t good at it, and basically had no experience, but she wasn’t entirely wrong. If that thing was going to work, griffons had to know who’s the boss. And Gillian, the griffon Gilda had working for her to make the caravan work said they needed Gia. Therefore, Gia was going to help, like it or not.

As Gilda entered the main hall, the additional heat from the hearth fire waffled over her with the smell of burning wood and Gertha, her brother Guille, and Grunhilda fell in behind her. She walked with purpose towards the stairs that led to the guest rooms. Stares fell on her, but she didn’t relent from her angry stomping.

Once up the stairs, she would walk to the door, knock as dry and heavily as she could. Intimidation was important. Then she would demand that Gia opened the door, and then Gilda would give the green queen a piece of her mind. It’s not like it was Gilda’s fault her plan had failed. In fact, had it not been for her, Gia would probably have ended in jail, or something worse. Lady Gwendolen would have caught her anyway. Truth be told, Gilda saved Gia, and was her only path to salvation because Lady Gwendolen could have been much less lenient.

The group passed the wooden doors until they reached Gia’s. Gilda stopped in front of it. Sat with a serious expression and raised her fist. She inhaled her lungs full of air to yell at the griffoness on the other side as soon as she knocked.

Anguished wailing came from the other side and caused Gilda to reel bug-eyed into Grunhilda behind her.

“It’s not fair! It’s not faa-a-a-air!” Gia’s voice came from within the room. “I was supposed to be filthy rich by now!”

Her voice trailed in another high-pitched whine and wheezing crying. Gilda turned to the others and Gertha had a grimace while Grunhilda had a distressed frown.

Gertha’s brother shrugged. “That sounds bad…”

Gilda sighed after the initial shock. Maybe anger, yelling and threatening wouldn’t be the answer. But Gia wasn’t done yet and interrupted Gilda before she could knock on the door.

“It was all her fault!” She screeched from the other side of the door to the sound of angry pummeling against a mattress.

“Are we sure that Gia is not just a really tall child?” Gertha showed Gilda a very annoyed stare and spoke softly.

“She’s just upset.” Gilda showed a paw in a placating gesture. “Stealing is really shitty, and so is using the griffons that believed in her and in the liberation of the city. I mean… Ultimately, she betrayed The Lion and The Harpy, but she… Is kinda just doing what griffons do. Right?”

The three griffons with Gilda didn’t seem to appreciate her argument in defense of Gia and gave her a trio of reproaching glares. It was then Gilda realized all three of them worked for her and she had lost a great opportunity to keep her stupid beak shut.

Furthermore, Gia wasn’t done yet. “That stupid chickenbrain from Griffonstone ruined everything!”

Such indecipherable screeching followed that the four griffons recoiled from the door before Gilda could understand Gia again through her howling and whining. “I was supposed to be the savior of the town! I was supposed to take care of the money Gail had stolen! And I was supposed to be all the way across the ocean by now!”

“That…” Guille raised an eyebrow. “That sounds a lot like treason.”

Gilda’s beak hung open again. She knew Gia had ‘issues’, but she never expected it came to that point. After all, she wasn’t just some random griffon. She was a Loremaster of The Harpy. She knew things. Important things. And that was the point of her scheme in Thunderpeak. She wanted to abuse her position to get her paws on the Chancellor’s money. But… If she ever opened her beak to Celestia…

Gilda’s thoughts were interrupted by Geary’s gallant bravado. “Worry not, milady. I will assist you!”

“You will?” Gia’s hopeful whine filtered through.

“I will! On my honor!” He hesitated. “I will end this villainous… Usurper… Of… Plans!”

Gilda groused, nodding at the door. “Get this thing open, Grunhilda.”

“Okay.” The big griffoness simply walked over to the greenish door in the white-gray wood of the wall and forcefully leaned her shoulder at it. The poor thing gave in immediately with a sudden crack and creak. Splinters flew from the frame where the lock was meant to keep it shut and it banged against the wall on the other side. But the four griffons on the corridor just stood there without entering.

The room was similar to the one the innkeeper had called Grimhammer. It had a bed, a screen for the bathroom, a closet, and a dresser. Nothing out of the ordinary. But Gia was on the bed, wearing a bizarrely cute and short pink dress. She even had a pointy princess hat and veil. While Geary stood next to the bed, wearing a cheap and overly polished white armor and blue cape. It even had an open helm with a large and ostentatious feather for decoration.

Gia sat against the bed’s header, holding the dress over her belly and her lady business, blushing like she was a maid in her nuptials. Complete with the hot blush in her cheeks growing fiercer while the griffons by the door stared at her.

Silence. Thick as the smells of griffons doing lewd things.

“Get… Get out!” Gia screeched startled Gilda out of her befuddled trance.

Gilda closed the door and stood with her back to it. She stared at the others, who stared back at her, all with shocked and huge eyes.

“I feel dirty…” Grunhilda whined.

“Wait a second.” Gilda’s scared stare morphed into an angry scowl, and she pushed the door open again.

Immediately, Gia screeched again. “What the heck! Get out!”

Instead, Gilda walked up to the bed, grabbed the feathers on Gia’s head like they were a small rodent prey, and yanked her out of the bed.

“Oow! Excuse me?!” The green Gia cried as Gilda walked out and dragged her across the floor. She held Gilda's foreleg so that the pulling wouldn’t hurt her. “Stop!”

“Yeah, yeah… You and your thrall can work out your traumas and satisfy your kinks later. If you’re going to try and skimp out of work, you’re going to help Gillian and me get the materials and supplies for the trip.” Gilda nonchalantly dragged her ‘friend’ while she looked at Geary, still sitting next to the bed and looking stupid in that lame armor. “You too, dummy. And lose the outfit.”

Geary didn’t complain and the other two moved out of her way while Gilda glared at Gertha. “You and Grunhilda get started on that training thing.”

Guille just blinked dumbly at her when Gilda stopped and glared at him. “You… I don’t know! Do caravan guard things!”

While the others complied, Gilda wasn’t sure Gia would, so she dragged the young Loremaster further down the corridor while the latter complained in a low voice. At least until she finally lost her patience and screeched again at Gilda. “Fine! You win! Will you quit it already?!”

What stopped Gilda was not Gia’s screaming, but Gosalynn and her unamused frown by the stairs. “When you’re done, we should improvise a quick meeting. Mother knows I’ll have my paws full today, but since we’ll be traveling together, it would be a good idea.”

A stray thought surfaced in Gilda’s head that maybe Gelinda and the others just want them gone because of the mess they made in their town. But she ignored it.

Gia screeched from the floor, and Gilda didn’t mind it. She just nodded at Gosalynn before she let go of Gia and glared at her. “Get out of this stupid dress and join us. Or I swear I’ll cut you and serve you up to the frostmanes, or whatever they’re called, myself.”

With the drama resolved, Gia out of her stupid dress, and Grunhilda outside with Gertha, they met in the table. They held their meeting while the innkeeper and her family were still cleaning up after the meal and a few griffons had lingered for the beverages.

It almost bothered Gilda that Gosalynn kept a mug of mead next to her and she didn’t have any, but she paid attention to Mister Gillian and his two assistants. Gil was there too, because, apparently, she was good at the food thing.

It was a short meeting where Gillian quickly told them what they would need and Gosalynn, with one of her lieutenant’s, did the same. It would fall to Gillian and his assistants to provide everything, since they were the experienced caravanners. A quartermaster from the Sky Sentry would be joining them in procuring all they would need since the Sky Sentry also had experience in traveling the wilds. They were monster hunters, after all and the caravan would need protection. The protectors would need food and shelter, as everyone else.

Only then it hit Gilda that Gosalynn was actually both responsible for the city’s law enforcement and the city’s Sky Sentry detachment. They merged into an informal mess. ‘Griffons that liked hunting and griffons that liked protecting the town working together to keep it safe from bad griffons and evil monsters alike’.

Nothing like the Local Militia system that Griffonia had inherited from the ponies, with its rigid, quasi-military structure all the way back to Canterlot. Gilda supposed that the Sky Sentry probably responded to some sort of centralized command though. Probably The Lion himself. But the conversation wasn’t about that.

As Gosalynn’s subordinates still welcomed refugees into town, and promptly stripped them of any dangerous items or ideas, the projected size of the caravan grew. The report from her assistant said that small groups of families or friends kept coming through lunch with a few larger groups in between.

Inside Gilda’s head was the ridiculous image of a single line between Thunderpeak and Wayfarer’s Rest. Silly, as she knew groups were certainly coming under guard from Thunderpeak’s own very new law enforcement and the Sky Sentries Lady Gwendolen had sent.

Curious thought… They, the Griffindelian Sky Sentries, probably kept information about what was happening flowing back home.

Nonetheless, it was a good idea to get those griffons out of there with the certainty of an attack soon. For Gilda and the others, it meant they would have to handle a caravan of thousands. Or, as Gia grumbly put it, ‘an ambulatory buffet, leaving off dead, half-frozen griffons along the way so that we can feed as many monsters as possible’.

After Gelinda promptly slapped her across the beak, the conversation resumed in a more productive way.

Since Gosalynn and Gelinda would be busy sorting out the griffons that had come, and were still coming from Griffonstone, they wouldn’t be able to help. Gilda, Gillian, Gil and Gia would go to the market and get all the stuff that they needed. Hopefully, no kinks would arise, and they would be able to move out in the morning, accommodating what griffons arrived in the meantime.

Because things never went wrong in that whole stupid peregrination Gilda had been forced to embark on. But she had decided that, compared to the refugees, she was in a good enough situation that she could deal with the whole thing without getting angry. She might even enjoy going shopping for stuff she didn’t truly understand just to see Gia suffer.

With the conversation concluded and tasks agreed upon, they walked out. Gilda followed Gillian’s lead and his assistants, with the Sky Sentry guy following them. Gil and Guille went along and, on their way past the bridge over the stream, Gilda saw Grunhilda training her posturing under Gertha’s watch. Gilda regretted not being able to sit there and just stare at her Amazonian thrall. The white griffoness had such a focused frown it was almost cute.

Back in the market, Gilda started wondering what sort of thing they would need. In her self-acknowledged ignorance of the subject, one needed carts, food, and griffons for a caravan. And that was it. At worst, more of it for a big caravan.

Her silly self had no idea but turned out there are different kinds of carts. And each cart had different kinds of wheels, wings, and frames. Why did carts need wings when it was the griffon’s magic pulling it that made it fly? Simple: it made it easier to fly. Duh. But the problem was that they wouldn’t be using flying carts. Only heavy-framed carts. With iron-reinforced wheels pulled by large and furry oxen. They would have to follow a trail and they would move slowly. If there was deep snow, they would have to clear it because of the oxen.

Suddenly it started seeming as though the whole thing was going to be even more complicated than what Gilda already thought it was going to be.

But, of course, carts were only useful if you had animals to pull them. Because as Gilda learned, they couldn’t expect griffons to pull the heavy carts that would be involved. No. They needed animals of burden.

“Well, of course teams of pegasus ponies would be ideal,” Gia said in her arrogant, know-it-all tone, “but we don’t really have enough slaves nowadays. In fact, we don’t have them.”

“Do we really need them?” Gilda walked next to her, following Master Gillian and the other caravan-savvy griffons as they went to the next service provider they would need. The cramped houses and stores flanked the street that was already cramped with visiting griffons.

“What kind of question is that?” Gia rolled her eyes. “How come you get to be the Chosen of the Harpy, or whatever it is that you are asking questions like that?”

“Hey, it’s a legitimate question!” Gilda raised her beak. “It’s your job as a Loremaster to teach these things. So, educate me!”

“Fine.” Gia sighed, oh-so-tired. “We need them to do menial tasks that griffons find too boring. For example, pegasi to take care of our weather and to pull flying vehicles. Unicorns to clean stuff and do their magic thingy. Earth ponies for farming and hauling stuff… Maybe for taking care of animals… Diamond dogs for the mines… And not to mention that we gotta go back to sacrificing them for The Harpy. Or something. Lady Gwendolen says She liked that, and their meat was an important part of the rituals in Her honor, back in the day.”

Yeah, Gilda remembered that from her dreams. Particularly the one where she first met The Harpy. The recollection of it brought a shiver to her spine and ruffled her feathers and fur. Maybe, just maybe it would be a better idea to tone that down?

Just a thought. Modern griffons may not be very happy about slavery, sacrifices, and whatnot. But, even worse than that, Gilda’s stomach jumped at the thought of griffons feeding from ponies and she burped into her fist. She had to stop and recover her wind, let the sour taste in her mouth wash away.

“Do you need anything, Lady Gilda?” The Sky Sentry quartermaster with them stopped next to her and the others in the front turned around to her. “You don’t seem very well.”

She stared blankly for a second before she brought her wits together again. “Ah… No. I’m fine. Just… Some old… Uh… Memories.”

The griffon guy, white under his black armor nodded. “I understand. My sister is an acolyte in Griffindell. She says that the visions and dreams from past lives can be intense.”

His empathy was welcome, even if it was dry as the Northerners could be. It was sincere if anything. Gilda smiled at him, and he nodded again before they resumed walking. The green Loremaster remained close. “You’re not gonna survive in Griffindell if talking about that does you so much distress.”

Gilda was almost touched. Gia looked worried. Unironically. It made a smile show on the tan one’s beak. “We just… Don’t need a war with the whole world. And I’m afraid of what could happen if… We lost.”

We will see about those thoughts, Child. Your lack of faith is most disappointing.

Oh, shit! She heard it! It was not like Gilda had lot of sympathy left for the griffons that messed Griffonia or even the ponies. But a terrible foreboding sense of impending doom covered her like a foul miasma. Every time the conversation veered towards slaves, sacrifices and… Evil stuff!

Gia distracted her from her thoughts, though.

The green queen shrugged, unconcerned as she spoke. “Eh… I kinda resigned to the fact that I’m screwed. I wanted to be gone with the money, because Griffonia is going to turn into a crappy clerocracy with a king that follows The Cult of The Harpy and his own queen is going to be Her representative. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.”

No. No. No! If there was a way to keep one’s thoughts from being thought, Gilda wanted to learn that right now. She was just so scared of what would happen if things went wrong because of The Harpy’s ideals.

You should teach your friend, Child. This one is not only traitorous, but she is disloyal. One of my Children. One of my Chosen to educate. Do not allow her words to take root in your mind. Instead, help me discipline her.

They both pressed their steps to keep up with the others as Gia went on. Gilda silently begged Gia to shut up already, but she didn’t. “If I learned something in the statecraft classes Gwendolen made me attend, is that it’s not going to go well with the Hall of Friendship. She’s gonna make Lord Gilad enforce The Harpy’s bullshit and… It’s not gonna be pretty when they react. As a Loremaster I’ll be in the firing line.”

Gilda grimaced at the other’s words. That was, indeed, everything that happened with the Swordmaidens when the Emperor lost the war. She could imagine the younger and more vulnerable Loremasters didn’t do too well either. Shit… Gia was actually right!

Gilda just agreed with her, and her eyes almost teared at the ide of Gia going through what she had suffered in that dream. Back in Griffonstone, when Ghadah died centuries ago. But there was more. Grunhilda’s face floated before her. Even Gil’s and Guille’s.

Interesting. Your thoughts betray an insecurity I had believed corrected, Child. And your friend… She is in a dangerous position and should learn not to confide certain things.

“We’re supposed to learn from History.” Gia complained with a funny pained expression. “But Lady Gwendolen is too drunk in The Harpy’s, bloodlust.”

Gia sighed again. “As though she wasn’t making that stuff up to rile griffons.”

I am going to make this bird suffer…

“Shut up! She’s listening you idiot!” Gilda screamed after the words that echoed amid her thoughts and coughed nervously when all the other griffons stared at her. Then she did her best to get her nerves under control, but her jittery gestures betrayed her. “You might want to tone down on that opinion. Eh… I mean… Don’t you believe The Harpy talks to her? Didn’t you believe that she talked to me?”

“I was using you.” Gia blinked. “No offense, but it’s bullshit. It’s all Lady Gwendolen’s making stuff up. And I don’t know what goes on inside that head of yours, but I wouldn’t be too surprised if there’s some weird mind stuff going on. Like your head is filling in the blanks for her since you were in such a bad situation.”

“Yeah…” Gilda deadpanned and glared at Gia, forcing her expression over her panicked grimace. “Somehow I doubt that would’ve given me magical powers.”

“You have natural magical powers, birdbrain.” Gia showed Gilda her jerk smirk. “You were born with the capacity for flight that is at least half-magical. You can walk on clouds. Griffons are just not very magically oriented in their mindset. Lady Gwendolen just guides them. Like those ‘unlock your potential’ scammers.”

“Although, to be fair…” Gia frowned cutely as she had no business doing being such a jerk. “I don’t think I would have believed what happened in the fight back in Thunderpeak had I not witnessed it.”

“So, you believe?” Gilda’s eyebrow raised.

“No!” Gia cried. “I don’t know what is going on, but I sure as heck don’t believe in some goddess that happens to agree with Lady Gwendolen on everything.”

I will make sure that the Griffindell’s guards are creative with this one. And you, my dearest Child… We shall see what lurks beneath your shallow thoughts that disturb you so.

Gilda coughed, brought back to the fact that Gia was digging both their graves. But. She. Kept. Talking! “I’m almost surprised at how dumb griffons can be not to see this. In this stupid world filled with magic…”

“Oh! Look! We’ve arrived!” Gilda forced a smile and held Gia’s beak shut.

It was true, though. Mister Gillian was talking to another caravan master. The plan was that they would join efforts for the journey and split the payment accordingly. As expected, the steely gray northerner griffon didn’t like it, but Gia’s ‘Loremastery’ and Gilda’s promises of money, along with some appeals to Lady Gwendolen’s honor made the griffon see things their way.

If anything, the conversation washed away Gilda’s nervousness and replaced it with how much of a logistical nightmare that trip actually was.

The problem was that they needed more beasts of burden. Gia insisted that flying was too dangerous because of the winds and exposure. Gillian agreed because of how heavy their load would be. That meant ‘oxen’. Lots of the bulky northerner wooly oxen. Large, tan and covered in enough ‘wool’ to make quite a few of the ‘normal’ buffalos. According to Gia, they were related to the Appleloosian Buffalos the same way Crystal Ponies related to Heartland Earth Ponies.

Another drifting thought… It had never occurred to Gilda that earth ponies could be classified according to where they had come from. But it was kind of obvious, considering how much like griffons changed according to the places they lived in. Culturally, earth ponies from the Bay County area were quite different from the ones south in Heartland County. Gilda had just never imagined it could be the influence from the regional magic. She just had assumed that cosmopolitan Manehattian ponies would be different from Ponyville country bumpkins anyways.

Curious… Did that, thousands of years ago, influence the Princesses’ choice of building the capital in that place?

Eh, she was probably overthinking. The ponies themselves didn’t care for any of that.

The important thing was that the oxen had enough of a thick coat that they could withstand the cold weather and were bulky enough they could pull the heavy carts. They were also strong enough to power through the snow if needed. Of course, that also meant more griffons to handle them. More food and more shelters for both. More everything. And more of anything meant more money. Gilda’s money, but she supposed it would all be worth it in the end.

At the same time, she was starting to agree with Gia. At least on how difficult an endeavor that trip was shaping up to be.

But, despite the hurdles, they managed to secure everything. Supplies, griffons (including several thralls), cart-pulling oxen, the vehicles themselves. Gilda also acquired a headache from the exorbitant sum that creeped up on her funds. Some annoyance at the southerner griffons that insisted on taking photos with her too.

As the pony princesses ended the day, the merchants closed their stalls and shops. Fortunately, Gilda and the others were also done with talking to griffons about preparations. The actual work would go on, and hopefully everything would be ready to leave in the morning. But there was nothing that Gilda could do at that point anymore.

While the caravan would organize itself, the Sky Sentry and the city’s guards would ensure that the newly arrived griffons would be in place and ready to move. Fed and properly instructed, at least as not to say or do anything stupid.

Back at the inn, the throng of griffons that arrived hadn’t exactly grown smaller and Gilda suspected the city’s guards were in for a long night. They had set up fires and given heavy cloaks to the newcomers. The northerner griffons just seemed to shrug off the cold, though. Gilda herself, despite feeling it, the cold didn’t really bother her. It was a minor annoyance that refused to go to the back of her mind.

At least the northerners didn’t mind the tired, crying cubs throwing all sorts of tantrums. Even if their parents nearly panicked, the northerners remained calm.

Gilda found them annoying. Maybe it was the weariness. Walking around town, talking, negotiating was exhausting. Gilda was hungry and her body ached. She just didn’t have the patience. Yet, she smiled as they approached the inn. Grunhilda was still with Gertha as the pink queen showed her something in their training bow. Next to the stone wall of the building was a generic quadrupedal-shaped target with a few arrows sticking from it.

Grunhilda had a sharp frown, paying attention to whatever Gertha was telling her while running her talon along the bow. Curiously, Grunhilda was as comfortable in that cold as Gilda would’ve been on a beach, despite the black fur coat Gertha wore.

But Gilda decided against interfering with them and followed the others inside. Gia whined as she leaned on her side against the nearest wall with all the drama she could afford, and Geary promptly began massaging her back and whispering to her. Gilda had to admit it was heartwarming in the way she smiled at his attention.

“Welcome back, Lady Gilda!” The innkeeper happily greeted her. “We will be serving a nice warm soup in a short while. Please stay in the main hall if you want some of it.”

That sounded like a good idea, so Gilda sat herself on one of the sitting pillows by the fire and closed her eyes for a moment. She emptied her mind and just let the comforting warmth wash over her. Soon enough a contented sigh escaped her. Sure, the cold didn’t bother her much, but the soothing warmth that radiated from the fire, along with the smells of the constantly roasting meat had a feeling of ‘the end of the day’.

It didn’t take long before Gosalynn entered to sit next to Gilda, bringing with her a pouch filled with seeds. Of which she threw a pawful into her mouth.

“Hey.” Gilda greeted her a bit awkwardly, unsure how to address the other queen in a more informal environment. But Gosalynn didn’t let herself be bothered.

“Good evening.” The shorter and shinier griffoness smiled, waving off a mug of something the innkeeper offered her. “I just wanted to let you know we found some griffons willing and able to help with the caravan among the refugees.”

“Great.” Gilda smiled too. “Will they be able to leave in the morning?”

“Yes, yes…” The other gobbled up another pawful of black seeds. “They’re getting their tasks from my quartermaster, and everything should be ready to go at first light.”

Saying that, Gosalynn’s long beak opened wide with a yawn her paw did little to hide. “I’ll make sure that everything is ready to go at our headquarters.”

Finally, the captain waved Gilda goodbye and yawned again while she stood and left out the door. Gertha had opened it and politely walked out of the way for the captain to leave. Then the pink griffoness walked inside with Grunhilda in tow. The latter had her training bow across her back and the quiver with the arrows on her side, but most importantly, she opened a giant smile when she saw Gilda.

“Miss Gilda! Miss Gertha said I’m a natural with the bow!” She hopped closer and practically vibrated with excitement.

“That’s great!” Gilda smiled back at her while Gertha approached.

“Hey, get this stowed away like I showed you.” The pink mercenary patted Grunhilda’s back. “Then you can ask me anything you need.”

“Okay!” Grunhilda was quite larger than Gertha, and it was easy to forget that she was much younger than the other. Especially as she barely kept from running to their room.

“Thanks.” Gilda turned to Gertha with a smile. A tired, but sincere one.

“Hey, you’re welcome, boss.” Gertha sat next to her and stretched her back with a groan before she turned to Gilda again. “Grunhilda is an excellent apprentice.”

Soon the griffoness returned and by then the others had gathered around in the main hall for supper. A thick and fatty soup was served. It tasted spicy, thick with potatoes and pieces of meat.

Small groups formed and talked loudly. Mostly griffons that had been working around the city and went to the place for a final round of conversation and a hot meal before going home. As Gilda supposed. The inn also served as a bar, comparable to such establishments back in Griffonstone.

She saw Gia talking to Gelinda for a while, before the older one left. Gil and Guille were on their own corner, talking quietly and eating their soup. They seemed happy, and Gil giggled often. Gilda thought of going to the two ex-military guys and finally share a few words with them, but she was tired. There would be plenty of time during the trip.

Grunhilda and Geary sat next to each other, next to Gilda, but they talked in hushed tones and Gilda couldn’t make out what they were saying. Maybe she should worry about Grunhilda’s driven, focused stare and her blush, but Gilda was too tired to care. Her soup was a much more pressing matter at the moment.

Unlike the southerners that would use spoons, the griffons plucked the meat with their beaks. It was awkward at first but turned out to be more natural. Specially gulping the soup from the wooden bowls and licking them clean. That thing was delicious.

Once she was done, Gilda let her bowl in front of her sitting pillow and let a long and satisfying yawn escape. Some of the griffons around the fire stared at her, but they didn’t say anything. She smiled a little and yawned again. “Sorry. I guess I’m done for the day.”

“Yeah.” Gilda’s yawn infected Gertha and she yawned too. “I imagine preparing for a trip like this is not easy.”

“We’re rushing things.” Gilda shrugged. “Only by the goodwill of griffons and the weight of certain names things are going to happen so fast. But it was tiring anyways.”

“Better this way. The more we wait, the higher the chance something will go wrong. Especially with whatever happened in Griffonstone.” She sighed. “Maybe it wouldn’t be so tiresome if we didn’t rush through things, but we gotta go already.”

All that walking, the drama, talking to so many griffons. It was rather early, but Gilda was more than tired. She just wanted to drop on her bed and sleep as soon as possible. That was probably a good thing as the next morning they would leave on a long journey. Being rested was mandatory, especially if she wanted to make herself responsible, after all.

“Yeah, I’m going to bed.” Gilda turned the other side to see Grunhilda too finishing her soup. “You can stay up if you want, but you better get some good sleep too.”

“Okay.” Her thrall grinned and promptly wiped her beak with a small napkin from one of the many small plates before them. Gilda decided to do the same before she stood and left. But Grunhilda didn’t stay with the others, she followed Gilda closely. Ran in front of her and held the door open for her master.

“Do you want me to prepare a bath, Miss Gilda?” Grunhilda quickly offered, moving closer once she had closed the door and wearing a smile.

“Nah.” Gilda shook her head slowly, nodded at the bed still smiling softly. “I just want to drop on the bed and sleep. I’m bushed from all that walking.”

“Oh.” Grunhilda sat and fidgeted her fingers together. “Don’t you want anything? Don’t you want me to do anything?”

“No, Grunhilda.” Gilda stopped smiling, but then she showed a tired smile again. “I know what you want, but I’m tired. It’s just not gonna be fun.”

“Okay…” The other deflated like a balloon, but Gilda poked her beak with a talon and her eyes went cross.

“You horny kitten.” The tan one spoke with faux seriousness. “Don’t think you’re off the hook, I’m just too tired.”

“Okay.” The ‘horny kitten’ giggled.

“Well, I’m gonna sleep now.” Gilda spoke again. “You can go and talk to the others if you want. But don’t forget we’ll start on a long trip first thing tomorrow.”

“Okay.” Grunhilda repeated herself again.

Sometimes, Gilda wasn’t entirely sure her friend understood at all what she said. Nonetheless, she turned and climbed onto the bed. If anything, the cold kept her from sweating during the day and she didn’t feel dirty or like she needed a bath more than she was tired.

Plopping to her side, she relaxed on the bed with a sigh. Soon enough the mattress shifted with the weight of another griffon on the bed, and she let herself smile. Grunhilda laid behind her and scooted together, spooning against her back. Her paw tentatively moved over Gilda’s shoulder and when she didn’t complain, Grunhilda held her and pulled her closer still.

The warmness from her larger friend’s body soothed the pervading cold and her softness welcomed contact. Gilda nestled her head against Grunhilda’s neck and let herself be held. The sounds of rowdy griffons in the hall were surprisingly calming through the doors and it brought a sense of safety.

Next Chapter: Calibrations Estimated time remaining: 15 Hours, 35 Minutes