Just as Gilda started getting used to the cart’s creaking and wobbling, one of the ponies did something stupid. The blue thestral came out of the woods, half-running, half-sneaking. Trying to make herself small, almost crawling on the snow. Ears pulled back and squinty eyes like she played spy, one hoof after the other. But she was a blue pony in the middle of the snow, for feather’s sake. It was way too early in the morning for such ‘ponyness’.

“Hey, hoofed moron, I can see you!” Gilda stood on her hindlegs, with a paw on the cart’s railing. The pony squeaked and stood still, one hoof raised off the snow, which Gilda found funny. But she was angry. The griffons in the caravan just walked around her with the most with annoyed frowns and angry glares. “The whole caravan can see you!”

“What are you up to?!” Gilda too glared at her, holding tightly on the railing. As if she needed more reasons to be wary of the damn ponies. As if she needed more trouble in her caravan. “What were you doing in the woods?”

“I had to go to the bathroom!” Moonbow hummed insecurely and whined with a little frown, standing back up. “It’s not like I can control it!”

“You should have taken care of it while we were still camped.” Gia reprimanded her too, next to Gilda, also grabbing the railing. “How old are you? Five?!”

“Geez! Sorry!” The pony changed. She growled and pulled her ears back, also rolling her eyes. “I’ll just go back to Lost Temple if it is alright!”

“I mean it, you dweeb! The sentries are not gonna think twice before shooting at something in the wild!” Gilda shot back and pointed at the other pony, walking further down the line, pretending he didn’t hear anything. “Now, please don’t do anything stupid. I need both of you alive!”

“Fine!” The thestral flapped her velvety wings and turned, whipping her tail with a parting shot. “I’m going!”

“You better!” Gilda yelled at the pony before sitting on the cart again, holding on to her righteous anger with a grimace. “Stupid grassbreath…”

She wasn’t sure what had Gia laughing, but Gilda decided to let it go. She rested her back against her place on the side railing. Gil and Gertha didn’t bother with the pony and kept talking about so many random subjects she lost track of what the conversation was about.

After a while, her green loremaster friend lost herself in her own thoughts while Godwin and his sister walked next to the cart. They took turns carrying Giza or letting her play with the younger cubs running around. Grunhilda laid on her belly and immersed herself in her blacksmithing book again.

As the morning matured, traveling the snow seemed to become easier. The oxen had an easier time negotiating the snow and they picked up some speed. The cold didn’t abate though, and the wind made it worse. Nothing happened across the morning and Gilda rolled her eyes… Funny how once everyone started walking and wouldn’t pay attention to your drama, nobody created any drama.

Closer to midday, the temperature dropped as snow started to fall. A passing thought crossed Gilda’s mind about how the weather behaved differently from the heavily pony-curated weather. It barely seemed to impact the oxen and their powerful strides. The large beasts maintained their pace, completely disregarding their long hair flailing with the wind. The only real change was that chiller air caused griffons to dress up with crocheted cotton shirts and bean-hats. Those amused the northerners and their hooded cloaks to no end, but they worked, so nobody complained.

Except for Madam Gelinda, who Gilda could hear somewhere down the line, yelling at some parents for ‘overdressing’ their cubs. Meanwhile the cubs themselves and older kids had organized their own caravan, complete with their own flag cut from someone’s blue dress and a drawing of a childishly distorted chicken’s head.

“I think it’s supposed to be you…” Gia watched them next to Gilda. “At least they didn’t pick a red piece of cloth…”

“You’re just angry it’s Gilda and not you.” Gil pouted at her, and Gilda didn’t care. She just liked seeing the kids having fun.

Their own flag flew above their cart. Gil had tied it to the supporting stake on a corner and its pole high. The flag made some noise in the wind, but not enough to bother. Gilda had started to like the dumb thing. It was her caravan’s flag, after all.

The cute rose pearlescent queen from last night walked among the older ‘kids’ with Godwin and his sisters. Two of them pampered Giza with all sorts of happy, chirping praise that made the small chick hop around and flap her little blue wings. The others talked to Georgia or Godwin. Gilda wasn’t sure they thought Giza adorable, which she was, or if they were trying to get Godwin to notice them. Maybe they were genuine because the toms liked talking to Giza too. If anything, it seemed the northerner kids held Godwin and Georgia in high regard.

Maybe Gilda could learn a little more about the three siblings. Obviously, asking them would be a terrible idea, but maybe Lady Geena of Frozenlake could tell her about their parents. Regardless, thoughts about the Gathering Storm insistently poked at her mind, but she concluded it would be better to just wait. Frozenlake wasn’t that far away.

Assuming no more random monsters would attack them.

From Frozenlake, their next destination would be Brokenhorn. Gerdie had told her to beware of the city’s lord, one Griskjal. She had said he didn’t like the southerners, but it shouldn’t be a problem for Gilda. Maybe she would run into issues getting him to accept the southerners trailing after her? She would deal with it when she needed to. Most importantly, after Brokenhorn was Griffindell. Through what should be the hardest stretch of their trip. She would probably miss Madam Gelinda’s help. Maybe she should start worrying about that. Finding replacements, especially because Gosalynn would be going back to Wayfarer’s Rest.

The caravan was supposed to get smaller with each stop. That should help.

Another thing she should be minding was her own training. She could use magic, like spells. She should be trying to tap deeper into that. Even Madam Gelinda said she should. Maybe in Frozenlake she could find some help with that. Maybe Lady Geena?

A bunny hopped from a bush and distracted her. It caused a commotion among the cubs. Even the older ones rushed after it while some of the more cautious ones kept telling them to not run off too far from the caravan. But the caravan’s guards seemed unconcerned. If they wouldn’t worry, then Gilda wouldn’t worry either.

Lost in her thoughts, Gilda watched the mountains crawl into the distance and the wooded hills passing by. The trees became more and more sparse until they too were replaced by rolling hills with the mighty mountains beyond the white haze.

The dark clouds kept the day’s brightness under control and the snow didn’t bother as much as it could. Before she knew it, the morning passed into lunchtime and Master Gillian called for a quick stop for lunch.

First thing after touching the snow, Gilda winced at the biting cold. Following that, she and Grunhilda shared a quick meal with Gia and Geary. The others busied themselves with their duties and lunch was a quick affair for everyone.

‘Quick’ being the perfect description, the tents remained packed inside the carts, and they barely even stopped. Small groups of friends passed around the food while griffons chatted with little worries. Only the caravan workers even touched the packages on the carts. They opened the packages with salt-preserved meats and dried fruit to supplement their ongoing stock of fresh meat and foraged foods. Gilda supposed they didn’t want to waste time hunting and foraging. Someone offered a decent salad to the ponies too. Gilda saw several leaves, grains and even a couple of apples.

Sentries remained on duty and the whole caravan soon moved again. Apparently, the rocs’ attack and, maybe, Gilda’s display of not having patience to entertain bullshit got through to them. Nonetheless, everyone probably agreed that the sooner they reached the next stop, the better.

Frozenlake. It sounded obvious, like… It’s a city, and it sits next to a lake which is frozen. Did they fish? Was it possible to fish? Wasn’t the southerner army that got themselves ambushed taken there?

With the caravan moving again, she made sure all her close acquaintances and friends followed and hopped back onto the cart. Grunhilda dutifully followed, and things would have settled back to exactly as they were in the morning, except Guille looked much better.

“Hey, Guille.” Gilda smiled at him from her corner of the cart. “How are you feeling?”

Sitting against the other corner, next to Gertha and Gil like they were protecting him, he held a plate of roasted caribou liver strips. He gobbled one or two strips at a time, ravenous, despite conversing like a civilized griffon in between bouts of swallowing. “I’m not sure how I feel. But I sure feel better than last time I was awake.”

It was probably the lack of babbling griffons on top of him while he drifted in and out of consciousness, but Gilda withheld the thought. She merely let herself chuckle. “For sure.”

Grunhilda had laid on the cart to read her book again, with it between her forelegs. Gilda addressed him again, after letting him down some more strips. “Just tell us if you need anything, alright? I mean, you got hurt helping me.”

“I don’t think they’ll let me need anything, ma’am.” His eyes pointed at Gil and then at Gertha, but Gilda frowned at his words.

“Dude… I’ll skewer you myself next time you call me ‘ma’am’.” She concluded with a growl and the two queens giggled at the surprised expression he made. At least Gilda could say things went back to normal.

The afternoon progressed much as the morning, and they made quick progress again. Just as Gilda let a loud yawn into her paw, she noticed the day was drawing to its end. She had to admit to the beauty of the show the pony princesses put up, even behind the stormy skies. The sun waited, tinting the clouds, mountains, and hills in shades of orange, waiting for Celestia to stash it wherever it went when the day ended.

She giggled to herself with the obvious joke but wouldn’t stoop down to say it out loud.

Truth be told, she was just happy the day almost ended and the most drama she had to deal with was the thestral walking off. At least Lost Temple behaved himself. So much Gilda didn’t even see him for a while. Maybe she should check on him and make sure he wasn’t up to something ‘pony’. The thestral looked like she could put him up to something stupid.

Behind the mountains, after the sun finally hid and the moon replaced it, they kept going for a couple of hours more. Only then Mister Gillian finally called for a stop again.

Gilda hopped off the cart to stretch her wings and legs before she noticed her new secretary trotting towards her. She closed her eyes and groaned, stretching her neck too.

Gisele stopped next to her as Gilda sat. The upset frown and the notepad she held with her wing seemed troublesome. She started with a worried frown. “I have the report, Lady Gilda.”

“Yeah? Tell me.” She frowned when Gisele didn’t just say it outright, though.

“Well… You owe Lady Gwendolen about thirty thousand Eagles…” Gisele said it quickly, like it would hurt less.

Gilda stared at Gisele for a tense second. She had gone from a normal life to having nothing and fleeing from the law and the bandits. Then she had fifteen thousand Eagles, and somehow invested forty-five thousand Eagles in one single venture. It had to be a record, or something.

And then she had to pay Gertha, Guille, the two Gunner guys, Mister Gillian and all his employees if she wanted them to keep working for her. And she didn’t even consider Gisele’s salary.

Gilda let a chuckle escape. Maybe because of the absurdity of her situation. Out of danger, she could appreciate it fully. She had just walked into The Harpy’s black paw. The same which held all the Griffonian government suckers. And she danced on it like a doofus too. Except in her case, it was even worse. She could find a crass joke about fisting around there somewhere, but instead of saying it out loud, Gilda just laughed when she thought of repaying her debt.

“So, do you still want to work for me?” She managed between the breathless laughter. If she hadn’t stopped hearing The Harpy in the last days, She would be laughing too.

Gisele chuckled nervously, looking to the side, and flapping her wings before they kept moving anxiously on her sides. “Well… Most of the money has been invested on her behalf. Since it is in Lady Gwendolen’s interest the caravan makes it to Griffindell, right?”

“Yeah. Probably. Either that, or I’m going crazy.” Finally, Gilda sighed. “I knew it was a one-way trip to Griffindell… I’m not even sure I’m mad about my goddess owning my ass anyway… Seems more like a formality by now.”

“Uh… Excuse me?” Gisele winced.

“Never mind that.” Gilda gave her a dismissing wave of her paw. “Ah… I need you to keep track of this stuff. Once I start getting my money from Lady Gwendolen, we’ll see what opportunities show up. And, do tell the others about this.”

An eyebrow rose on Gilda’s pensive face. Maybe she could make bacon scones, or something. If she got Lady Gwendolen to taste and like one, she could sell it as The Harpy’s Scones… But that was far off into the future.

“Yeah…” She concluded. “Just keep tabs on that for now.”

Gisele didn’t seem particularly sure what to think, or even if she was happy about her recent life choices, but Gilda was satisfied and waved her off before she turned to look at Grunhilda. “I’ll be checking the camp. Get our tent up and fix us something for dinner. I’ll be back soon.”

Grunhilda, on the cart, sitting behind the railing and with her paws on it, made a frown with a concerned hum. “Can I help if I forge items and sell them?”

“Grunhilda… This…” Yes, it hit her chest like a hammer. But no. Gilda was not going to cry like a sappy pony. It was just something in her eye. “You don’t have to. The Harpy wanted me to take these griffons to her lands. She entrusted them to me, and Lady Gwendolen is going to pay for this stuff. All that’s going to happen is that I’ll owe her some money and I'll pay her back with my work… My being a Swordmaiden. It’s not that much.”

On another paw, Grunhilda probably could use the practice. Nobody got good at anything without practice, and even Gilda with her memories and such would need proper training. But not because she wanted to help pay a debt. Grunhilda should have her own money from her work.

Grunhilda frowned at her. “Thirty thousand sounds like a lot of anything…”

“You know what else is going to be a lot?” Gilda pointed a talon at her friend and then at the snowed ground. “All the smacks coming your way if you don’t get busy with what I told you to do!”

The white griffoness, with all her size and her big muscles, squeaked like a small, scared cub. She hopped off the cart and stumbled a few steps, hurrying to the cart with their tent. Gia climbed down the cart followed by Gil and Gertha, stopping to stare at Gilda. “You know, you’re not convincing anyone…”

“Shut it, princess.” Gilda told her with exactly zero worries. “Go see Madam Gelinda and see if she needs anything.”

Gia stopped for a second and Gilda could see the intention to nag at her. Like a spark in her eye. Similar to Godwin when Gelinda reminded him he was still a kid. But Gia rolled her eyes just as quickly and walked off, grumbling like an old griffon. “Fine.”

Satisfied, Gilda tossed her head and trotted on the snow towards the nearest group of tents. Either she had learned not to care about stuff, or her sanity really took a hit from Gisele’s report. Well, there wasn’t a whole lot she could do about it during the trip, anyway. She would figure it out.

Tired griffons had started settling in for the night again. They wore heavier capes and clothes than during the day, and some set up the tents while others prepared food. Mostly warmed-up leftovers of game and salted meat from lunch. They waved and smiled at her when she passed their groups of tents. Everything seemed under control.

The night sky was too dark to see, but she didn’t feel like they would get any snow for the night. Or any evil, corrupting magic, for that matter. Once again, all Gilda could feel was The Harpy’s mighty magic drifting in the wind. They should have a warmer and calmer night. Gilda appreciated it.

The bachelor males got their tent back. Fortunately, they managed to weather that storm without Gilda having to do more than yell at a few griffons. Both groups returned to normal and disappeared into the routine of the caravan. As far as she was concerned, things worked out alright. Most importantly, no more League of Lions or Lionesses. Just Gilda’s Caravan.

They made up their own groups, but the ‘bachelor’ and the ‘bachelorette’ tents both had small groups of griffons in front of them. They shared food and beverages as well as the light and warmth from their respective campfires. As far as Gilda was concerned, the separation was stupid, and she preferred to see it gone. But it was their choice. Something curious seemed to be happening though. The northerner griffons spent time socializing with the males, but not the females.

“What the?” Gilda whispered but stopped herself from getting involved. Shaking her head, she walked away. Whatever went on there, she didn’t want to get involved until it started disrupting the normal functioning of the caravan.

Moving forward, she reached the hunters’ camp and the roc infant chirped happily as she approached his cage and allowed her to pet him.

“He’s eating much better now.” The hunter queen who seemed to have taken the responsibility of caring for the infant grinned at Gilda. “Madam Gelinda said it’s still not ideal for his size, but he’s not really using a lot of energy.”

“We should find a way for him to exercise.” Her mate took over as the huntress went back to feeding chunks of meat to the roc. “I just have no idea how. We don’t know what is going on inside his head and he might try to escape if we set him free.”

Gilda nodded and rubbed her beak, watching the big bird swallowing the chunks of meat. “We’ll think of something. Great job you guys are doing.”

“It’s an honor, Lady Gilda.” He gave her a respectful bow and watched as Gilda left to ‘inspect’ another section of their camp.

Much of the same happened around it; just different groups of griffons settling in for the night. The ‘cub camp’ returned and it was as it was the previous night, sans the storm. Godwin and Georgia stayed there, with Giza playing near the fire with the other small cubs. Little mock fights, wrestling little fledglings on the snow, but close enough to the warmth of the fire.

Normally, she’d worry about Godwin and his older sister, but Madam Gelinda was there watching over the younger ones. They would be fine, and with things under control, Gilda resumed her patrol. She kept walking along their elongated camp, happy nobody fought or created problems they didn’t need.

Satisfied, Gilda leisurely made her way back to the front and the smell of aromatic seasonings greeted her. The two Gunner guys sat by the fire, each wearing a heavy wolfskin cape for the first night shift. The fire had been lit over a platform, and Grunhilda sat next to them. All three were drinking from wooden bowls like it was their last meal. Gil was there too, standing on her hindlegs under an emerald green cape, and stirring away at a pot over the fire.

Trotting closer, Gilda drew in the damp snow air with the hot spicy aroma from the pot. She had told Grunhilda to deal with dinner, but she didn’t care. “This smells wonderful!”

“Thanks! Try some!” Gil piped before she served Gilda some broth on a wooden bowl.

Thick and fatty, but also hot, with chunks of dissolving meat and finely cut seasoning greens like parsley, thyme, and basil. There seemed to be mashed potatoes too, for added thickness. Before it got cold, Gilda took it to her beak and swallowed a generous gulp. Irrespective of the thickness, it filled Gilda’s tongue with a harmonious explosion of spicy and fatty tastes. Definitively potato too, and it brought all the flavors together. A comforting warmth and meat that melted in her mouth. Gilda hummed and took a deep lungful of the steam rising from the broth before downing another generous sip. She took it so greedily it almost burned her mouth, but it was worth it.

“You are doing the cooking from now on!” Gilda grinned, licking her beak. “I don’t know who was cooking before, but you’re it now!”

Gil chuckled. “Sure! I don’t mind. I like cooking anyway. There’s a lot more in here. Eat all you want!”

Gilda planned on doing just that and in the meantime, Gia joined them with Geary, taking some of the broth for them. The young, green Loremaster wouldn’t say it, but she clearly enjoyed the broth too, closing her eyes and inhaling its vapors. Geary, gentlemanly as he was, complimented Gil on it. Later, Gertha and Gil settled to eat on the cart where Guille still rested. Gil fed him while Gertha talked to them about nothing in particular. The way they settled into their own little family gave Gilda some nice fuzzy feelings.

Soon the murmur of chatting griffons died away and that of the wind riding the hills filled the night. It whistled against the tents and brought the chill of the night with it. As Gertha and Gil set an impromptu tent around the cart to settle down with Guille, Gia and Geary retreated into their tent. Gilda waved at their sentries while Grunhilda hurried inside their own tent. “G’night, guys. Call us if something goes wrong.”

“Will do, ma’am.” One of the two nodded and smiled, but she couldn’t be bothered to differentiate between them and followed her friend into the tent.

Inside, Gilda tied the flaps tightly so the wind wouldn’t open them. She had made that mistake before. She didn’t want to get out of bed in the middle of the night to close the damn things and keep all the winds from entering.

Satisfied the thing wouldn’t open on its own, she turned on her haunches, sitting by the entrance. The tent was organized and neat as Grunhilda always prepared their tent each night. All their stuff sat out of the way and organized for easy grabbing in the night. Mythical was in the corner, near Grunhilda’s armor and weapons. Their bed, a pile of thick leathers, white wolfskin pelts, and a red bearskin for blanket, had a very noticeable Grunhilda-sized lump on it.

With a smile, Gilda turned the small switch on the magical heater in the center and it filled the tent with its soft pinkish light, slowly radiating some heat. It looked a bit weird. It had a small pink crystal in the center of a trapezoidal grid, just floating there like it didn’t care for gravity. An oval metallic base with small feet had the switch. Once on, the crystal started spinning, gaining speed with a dull buzz. Somehow, it produced the heat and the light.

It looked like ‘pony shit’.

Gilda frowned at it. Funny, it had never bothered her before, but the pink light irritated her eyes and gave her a small headache. The pink light made her itchy. Maybe its flickering nature irritated her. It dried the air, and she could swear it, somehow, hurt her. Eh… Nonsense. Her increasing magical senses were at odds with the magic the thing radiated. Surely it would pass once she distracted herself. Like traveling on an airship.

Gunhilda’s giggling did exactly that. But instead of turning immediately, Gilda flicked the switch on the magical heater. The only light remaining filtered in from the campfire outside. She could feel the cold, sure. But the tent protected from the wind and the cold gave her a nice tingling. She smiled and pulled the red bear skin blanket from over the Big Girl.

Grunhilda laid on her back, with her limbs pulled against her body, covering all the juicy parts while her beak showed a debaucherously teasing smile. The spark of mischievousness in her blue eyes and the anxious flickering in the fluffy tip of her tail gave Gilda’s beak a haughty smirk. She opened the strap holding her white cape and threw it aside, soon doing the same to her red scarf.

“When did you get this sleazy?” Gilda approached and stared down at Grunhilda, slowly moving her paw to touch Grunhilda’s fluffy chest, letting her soft feathers in between her fingers.

“You love it and we both know it!” Grunhilda cawed softly, her grin growing bigger in the dark.

“You know…” Gilda finally let her grin show more, hovering closer to Grunhilda and pecking at her neck. Her paw trailed down towards Grunhilda’s belly, but painstakingly slow. “I think you’re starting to forget there is a certain power dynamic between us.”

“Oh no!” Grunhilda let out a soft purr and her forelegs reached for Gilda’s neck, her fingers also caressing the fluffy feathers, creeping into them. “Am I a bad kitty?”

Gilda let out a curt chuckle while her fingers danced around her friend’s nipples. “Yeah, yeah… Just don’t let the guys outside hear you…”

The wake-up call sounded again. Gilda supposed the pony military would wake up everyone like normal, with a horn, or bells. Griffons cried, because of course they did. Like a confused rooster thinking they were a hawk. It worked, though. Gilda woke up to sore muscles and a sluggish mind. Turned out, when she was younger, she never learned an important lesson. It didn’t matter if you didn’t exercise yourself the previous day, if you spent the night doing naughty and exerting things with your friend. Lover… Girlfriend.

Even with her cape of white feathers, the cold air from the night greeted her once she opened the flap. It shocked her awake better than any coffee ever had. She stretched her limbs and shook her own feathers loose before smiling at the two northerner Sky Sentries next to the fire. The similar smell of spiced wine became routine already as she approached them.

“Good morning, Lady Gilda.” The gray-green griffon under the black wolfskin pawed her a mug with the strong-smelling wine. Gilda recognized him. He picked at Godwin the previous night over not wanting to sleep with her and Grunhilda.

“Hey. Thanks.” She took a long sip from the strong and hot beverage. It burned a little, but it also warmed her from the inside. “How did the night go?”

“Mister Gunner of Griffonstone said there was a commotion at the griffoness’ tent soon after their shift started.” The same one who offered her the wine pointed casually. “Miss Gertha and two Sky Sentries went there and fixed the problem. Miss Garnet is on a cart turned into a prison cell because of that, and since Mister Geldar started complaining, Captain Gosalynn put him in there too.”

Gilda sipped the hot wine. It never tasted as sweet. She didn’t even have to stress herself. The marvels of good subordinates.

“We had to spare a couple of guards to watch them, but they didn’t complain.” The other Sky Sentry, white and blue, offered her a plate with warmed cubes of salted meat. “The guards, I mean. I hear the prisoners complained until the cold made them hide under the bearskin on their cell.”

“I’ll see if I talk to them before they’re let free.” Maybe, if Gilda wasn’t too busy with griffons she actually liked.

“Leave it to the southerners to turn their mating into a problem for everyone else.” Green one poked the fire with a twig. “You either make it work, or you split.”

“Aren’t they like nobles in the south?” The other asked Gilda. “They should concern themselves with their bloodline and their demesne. A noble family shouldn’t even entertain the idea of infighting.”

“I think any concept you guys might have of ‘noble’ couldn’t be farther away from what passes for leadership in the south.” Gilda finished her mug before she put it by the fire with a smile. She sighed. “The problem is that their power comes from popular support and griffons don’t want to admit they voted for the wrong politician. Not even when they get involved in bullshit scandals. It’s just easier to pretend it's misinformation from their enemies and move on with your life.”

“Southerners are insane…” The gray-green one shook his head.

“Anyway, I better go see them.” She shrugged and excused herself with a nod.

A quick walk and a few questions asked along the way took her to the improvised cell-on-a-cart. Segregated from the rest of the caravan, enough their complaining wouldn’t bother anyone, it was a cart with tree branches for bars. It seemed barely more than a formality. The armed guards served as a warning to ‘cease your bullshit’ more than the cell.

A pair of fully armored Sky Sentries, with their blues and gold under the wolfskin capes sat next to the improvised prison and respectfully nodded at Gilda when she approached. Each armed with an axe, a shield and one of the fancy new rifled guns.

Stopping by the ‘bars’, Gilda sat and coughed in the most obnoxious way she could. Garnet’s white head popped from under the blanket, but she kept her yellow paws under her, shaking. She gasped and the drowsiness drained from her upon laying eyes on Gilda.

“Get me out of this… This…” She started and Gilda wished she still had her mug of wine to sip at it.

“Bad start.” She deadpanned while Geldar too appeared from under the blanket, but both seemed to agree it was too cold to let go of it. “You are so damn lucky they didn’t wake me up because of you.”

Come to think of it, Gosalynn probably avoided waking her up.

“I have never been so cold in my life!” Garnet tried to scream, but the trembling stopped her.

“Yeah, we call that ‘consequences’.” Gilda kept her deadpan stare. Maybe she had a prejudiced view on politicians, but she found it difficult to spare any sympathy for those two. She looked at Geldar. “What did you do? I thought you hated each other.”

“I told the Captain that leaving a griffon outside, under incarceration and exposed to the elements, was barbaric.” Gelder glared at her. “She ordered the guards to imprison me too.”

Shame Gilda didn’t believe him and wanted to rub some salt in that wound. “The Sky Sentry are not guards; you dummy. They’re both professional monster hunters and elite soldiers. They don’t tolerate bullshit.”

She then turned to Garnet. “What about you?”

“I…” She started but turned her suddenly saddened eyes to the side. “I had an argument with my secretary… The northerners thought I was causing too much ruckus and the Sky Sentry put me here. I had to spend the night here. It was cold! I could barely sleep. I thought that the northerner griffons were better than that. This is no way to treat a prisoner! Much less one with degrees and…”

“Yeah, yeah… You thought you could stomp your way around their customs and laws like you were used to in Griffonstone. You got angry Gisele didn’t put up with your bullshit anymore. You didn’t like not being treated like a normal griffon and lost it. But unlike in the south, where you had power and the judges barely slapped your paw if you abused someone, you ended up here.” Gilda kept her chest forward and her head high. “Congratulations, you are now a commoner.”

“You know, this isn’t fair!” Garnet stood from the blanket and held the tree-branch-bars. “I did all you asked! I mean… Your northerner friends.”

“You know what?” Gilda growled. A few old grudges suddenly found a way out. “Gelinda was fucking right! You scum made deals with the northerners thinking of how you would have it easy once they took over the nation. You only think of yourselves, and you couldn’t live a day here without help. You didn’t do anything because you thought it was the best for the nation. You did because you thought you could reap benefits. That is not how it works here. The Children of The Harpy give luxuries to those they believe deserve them. Now you don’t have anything because the northerners will sooner look at your honor than your money. The best thing is that The Harpy knew this. She laid out a trap with a red carpet and golden tableware for you, and you fell for it like the greedy, predatory, opportunistic, gluttons you are!”

Garnet gasped, but Gilda went on before she could say anything. “But you know what? I am glad you’re here. Because The Harpy doesn’t forget like your electors did. And if Gisele complains to me about you, I’ll stop the whole caravan and have you flogged, because I doubt the Sky Sentry would have put you in here if it was just an argument.”

“Witnesses spoke of insults and raised fists.” One of the two sentries spoke seriously. “Some of the queens who called us feared imminent violence.”

So much for the safety of the little kittens…

Gilda nodded and turned to Garnet again. “Let me give you some advice. She treated me the same way. I had to change. It was different, but I had to change. I would never have thought of actually killing a griffon, much less believed there is some griffon goddess. The thing is that I adapted, and you must too. You’re lucky enough you were born with a strong blood, but the northerners are not going to entertain your bullshit just because of that. You’re moving to a new place, and they will give you a shot. Don’t waste it. Especially because as far as I am concerned, I’m dropping you at Frozenlake. I don’t want you trying to boss your way around when we’re crossing the worst part of the Snow Mountains wilderness with the Windigos chewing our tails.”

Garnet didn’t answer, but she did let her eyes aim low. Geldar just stood there. Maybe he just got caught in the middle of her mess and regretted getting involved. Still, finding space for some sympathy proved difficult. Those two represented a good parcel of what went wrong in Gilda's life. Although, maybe, she should be thankful, as ultimately, it freed her.

No sympathy, though. It was Gilda’s turn for some privileges and entitlement, dammit. She simply left with no more words and things progressed much as the previous day. Would Garnet change? She didn’t care. She focused on her caravan.

They left before the sun rose and nobody complained. Except Gilda didn’t feel like riding a cart and let Grunhilda read her book. Gisele sat next to her, and so did Gia and Geary. Not Gilda. She wanted to put her muscles to use.

They progressed better than the previous morning and Gilda could swear the oxen looked more determined because of it. The handlers seemed pretty pleased too, but most importantly, her roc had eaten healthily and every now and then she could hear happy chirps as the night shifted for the day.

Under Madam Gelinda’s ‘doctor’s orders’, Guille walked too. Next to Gilda and his mate, Gil accompanied them. Not Gertha, though, as the Sky Sentry Quartermaster wanted her somewhere else on their escort. They told Gilda nothing, but she supposed that since Gertha managed to keep the peace in the bachelorette tent, she should keep doing it. Griffons tended to travel in groups and the old Sky Sentry probably wanted to avoid problems involving Garnet.

A tiny smile crept into Gilda’s beak. Nothing more binding than competence, for better or for worse. Although she couldn’t imagine Garnet being well received by the queens after what happened. Maybe she could spare an eye to keep on Geldar too. He was no better than Garnet, just better at hiding his venom.

From inside her soul, the little voice of a Loremaster told her to beware scorned griffons. Garnet was dangerous, and not the kind to take defeat gently. Maybe she should just get rid of both. Even going as far as fabricating a reason to rescind their breathing privileges.

Gilda resisted the idea. They were still her brethren under The Harpy. But she also didn’t want to be that kind of boss. The same voices at the back of her head told her to be aware she didn’t become like Garnet, after all.

“Hi, Gilda.” Gosalynn’s greeting in her acute voice drew the other from her thoughts. “Good morning.”

A sense of pride lit in her chest at the Sky Sentry captain treating her more friendly, rather than formally, and she looked at the shiny griffoness with a smile. “Hi.”

“There is nothing wrong,” Gosalynn started with a bit of a worried frown. Her seriousness would never cease to be funny with her acute voice and quick speech. “But I wanted to tell you one of our watches reported seeing a pony skulking around during the night.”

“One of our guests?” Gilda immediately frowned too, but Gosalynn shook her head negatively.

“A tall unicorn wearing traveling gear and armed, but with no supplies. No more details in the dark, and the other sentries reported nothing. I wanted to tell you of it, and I sent our scouts ahead today with orders to be aware of ambushes or scouts. Ponies just don’t come here without good reason.”

And if the pony had no supplies, they weren’t alone. Not to mention Gilda had a prize on her head. She supposed River had more friends than the big pony Grunhilda ripped apart on their way to Ponyville. Good. It reminded Gilda she still had things to settle back at Griffonstone with the fat cunt and her piss-ugly kid.

“Tell the escorts to keep the ponies within the caravan at all times and to not let their eyes off them. Even if they must go to the bathroom, or anything.” She told Gosalynn and it sounded obvious, but the Captain didn’t complain before leaving.

Suddenly she grinned at just having ordered a Sky Sentry captain around like a real noble. She even pranced a little, but eventually the walk burned off her nervous energy. Gilda resigned to resting on the cart with Grunhilda, finding a relaxing spot to watch her read her book. It had several diagrams of standard shapes and tables with numbers. Nothing too complicated, it seemed, but Gilda supposed she would need the basics before she understood any of those.

Next to them, Gil talked to Guille, who could manage to sit again and just listened while she told him about all the stuff that happened while he was prostrated. Gilda supposed he already knew most of it, but she supposed he just wanted to let Gil talk and listen to her voice. Gisele kept a bored stare over the endless hills and Gia was busy somewhere with Geary.

Eventually they stopped again, and much as the previous day, lunch condensed into a quick stop and salted meat added to the fresh game meat. A quick bite, a little something to wet the tongue, and they went off again.

It was all so drama-free Gilda even allowed herself to dream she would have no more problems with Garnet. The truth was that traveling was boring.

“Hey, what’s up?” Gil pulled her attention, looking over the ox pulling their cart. Gilda turned too and both stood with their paws on the taller frontal railing.

A group of griffons in leather armor stood at the top of a round hill the caravan plodded its way to. Some of them looked beyond it and others looked back at the caravan. Some of them talked, others fidgeted and flapped their wings excitedly.

Mister Gillian and Gosalynn were up ahead too, and seeing them convinced Gilda she should get herself involved in whatever happened. She hopped off the cart with Gil and Grunhilda following. A quick trot took them to the group of griffons. Only when they arrived, Gilda recognized their scouts.

Gosalynn pointed forward, beyond the hill. “Frozenlake.”

Past the hill the ground became a soft open field covered in snow. A wooded area broke the plain to their right and a vast frozen lake gave an open view beyond the field on the other side. Gilda could see some small homes over the flat surface covered in white snow as well as rivulets of snow in the wind. But the city itself dominated the view. Made of gray stone and thatched roofs white with snow, countless griffon homes of different shapes and sizes surrounded a walled fortification. An imposing tower-like keep with gray walls and square towers.

Another half-constructed wall started to envelop the homes and wood cranes and piles of stones blocks ready for hoisting evidenced active construction. Maybe Lady Geena would take several griffons if they could be convinced to work on the construction… It was silly, but the idea crossed Gilda’s mind.

A large camp had been raised next to the city, mostly hiding behind the trees which ventured closer. Small tents, which all looked similar, and Gilda thought she saw guards and several griffons milling about between the tents.

Several fenced areas surrounded a gigantic barn and held many oxen wandering mindlessly on the muddy snow. Other than that, a faux stone gate, as though its walls had been ripped away, held an open entrance and a pair of white flags with a colorful trout hanging from it. Like a welcome to the city which, honestly, could only be Frozenlake. Large pyres atop the gate were empty, but Gilda imagined they would be lit with nightfall.

Several griffons had gathered near the landmark, staring at the griffons atop the hill where Gilda was. They flapped wings, talked amongst themselves and some of them even hopped with excitement. One or two ran towards the city and others joined the curious griffons, coming from the snowed livestock pens.

“Heh. Beautiful view. It’s usually foggy and you can barely see the pyres.” One of their scouts chirped.

“Well, it’s not Griffindell yet, but it is a nice stop.” Gia walked up next to Gilda while Grunhilda gave a few excited hops too.

“Yeah. Looks great.” Gilda agreed, adjusting her scarf so it wasn’t too loose, but still allowed her choker to show. “Big girl, get Godwin, Georgia and Giza ready.”

Gillian took the lead with Gosalynn and started on his way down the hill. Gilda followed but the scouts remained. Soon the caravan would crest the hill and Gilda supposed it would be best for them to introduce themselves. Especially with their ‘distinct’ flag.

Next Chapter: Sacramental Sister Estimated time remaining: 10 Hours, 30 Minutes