That evening, Wrath’s apartment was filled with people. It was a curated gathering, with no one out of place. Queen Katharesa, her knight Teryn, and Koben’s relatives in attendance—except for Arlis, of course—were placed on the straw bale seats in the front row outside of the griffin’s cage, along with any elders who happened to be present.
Once Leslyn spotted King Dufan and his wife, mostly by noticing the queen’s lovely and clearly expensive dress, he was surprised to find the aging man dressed as unpretentiously as Koben, save for the addition of a simple gold coronet upon his head. If he was anything like his son in his youth, he was clearly beyond his adventuring days now, his shoulders thin and torso noticeably bent forward, as if the weight of his body was just a little too much to bear.
Behind the king and the other seated folks stood dozens of varied individuals in uniforms or expensive clothing, signifying high positions in society. Aerie workers were placed around the room to assist if needed.
Prince Koben stood by the sliding door of the cage with Aeriemaster Gunu, and behind them stood Captain Tannoran, General Xavara, and another captain that Leslyn hadn’t met yet. He was a tall, pale man with blue eyes, short black hair and well-groomed sideburns. With each of the King’s Guard officials were their chosen soldiers, hopeful to receive a griffin.
Leslyn himself waited just behind them with Kaleit, barely able to see anything of Wrath’s nest through the crowd, even when standing on his toes. He chanced the shame of it only once, being very aware of where Kaleit’s judgmental gaze was aimed. Leslyn had already received several inexplicably disgusted looks from him since they’d joined the line.
At any rate, the taller youth was becoming tense, especially when the cage was opened and the soldiers began to file in. They went one at a time, taking several minutes in between each, to allow Wrath time to adjust. At a nod from Gunu, Koben waved Leslyn and Kaleit closer, but they were not permitted to enter just yet. “We’ll let Tannoran’s and Esmor’s group through, then you two can go. She knows you well enough to let you both in together.”
When his men were all through, Captain Tannoran made his way to his son and stood with him, giving Leslyn a long, stony look before addressing Kaleit. “Avoid eye contact with the mother when she’s selecting for keets you do not want,” he said. “Look large and confident, perhaps even step forward for the ones you do want, and do not stand down if she appears to take offense.”
“Because she wants a protector for her keet, not a coward,” Kaleit said firmly.
“Correct.”
Leslyn couldn’t help but listen in. Tannoran had, no doubt, seen many griffin clutches and would know the best way to proceed.
Tannoran gestured at the biggest keet in the clutch, a ball of reddish brown fluff. It was almost twice as round as some of the others. “Avoid the heavy red at all costs. As an adult, it will look impressive, but be useless in a fight. It will be slow and lack stamina from carrying its own body.”
“And the black first-born? It’s clearly dominant over the others. That should make it a good prospect for someone with an eye toward leadership.”
Leslyn silently considered that one along with the captain. It had continued its post-hatch habit of lying on the other keets and otherwise getting into their space, snapping at them if they were offended. At least one keet already had a groove permanently carved into its beak from one of those confrontations.
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The captain crossed his arms and pursed his lips slightly. “It certainly looks slim enough for skilled flight, but best look elsewhere. It’s dominant, yes, but through aggression, and down the line you could have an uncooperative beast on your hands unexpectedly and at the worst of times.” He sighed as he looked over the rest, as if they couldn’t possibly be good enough for his son. “Push for that medium black instead. It should be big enough to carry you easily, and has a very intelligent look to it. Failing that, the other red over there. A rarer color will encourage awe from lesser men and those easily swayed. Ignore the rest.”
“What about the wind-egger?” There was a terrible grin on the youth’s face. Leslyn had to look again to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.
Tannoran looked at him with no humor whatsoever. “It would serve you right, fool. You’ll be kissing your enlistment a fond and final farewell.”
Kaleit’s mouth snapped shut and he shared a look with his father, both of them equally disgusted with the other. Leslyn looked away, trying not to smile. He thought of his own father, a soft-hearted and soft-handed physician, yet the man was all too happy to let him follow Liren to whatever work he could find in Nilvar. That led to remembering what—rather, who—made him want to leave Gerrit in the first place.
He quickly shoved that thought aside and focused back on the unfolding event, just in time for Koben to usher him into Wrath’s cage. The door was pulled closed and secured as soon as everyone was inside.
The hopefuls, twenty-five in all, formed a semi circle around the nest opposite of where Wrath kept guard. She held her head high and loftily, proud of her children who were so very valuable to the tiny, helpless two-legged creatures who stood before her.
“Wrath may have lived in the wild for a time, but she was hatched among manlings and knows the rules of the pact well,” the Aeriemaster announced to the audience. “She will not harm anyone during this critical time, unless they do not heed her warnings.” To the hopefuls, he said, “She will test everyone in this circle. If she rejects you, leave immediately—“ he swung his arm toward the exit for emphasis, “—or you may find yourself at the mercy of her talons.”
As he spoke, Wrath turned her attention to her keets, sorting through them with nudges of her beak. She singled out the only steel gray, cupping it gently with one deadly-clawed foot.
“Is that a gray, or could it be blue?” one of the soldiers whispered to her peers.
“She’s blue, so it could be blue,” one from another captain’s group answered. “I heard no one knows the sire. These keets might show all sorts of rare colors and markings when they feather out.” Others in earshot of their conversation began to murmur excitedly at that.
The Aeriemaster’s voice rang out again, startling the soldiers to silence. “If any keets remain at the end and you were not awarded one, do not protest or enter her nesting area again. It is rare, but not unheard of to need a second set of choices for a mother who is not satisfied with the first lot. As the saying goes, ‘The mother always chooses, and you never want to cross a mother.’”
Halfway through his sharing that bit of knowledge, the blue griffin’s mane began to rise, her eyes widening as she looked around the semicircle of hopefuls. A few of the soldiers, unfamiliar with her body language, stepped back. Leslyn recognized it as either mounting confusion, or distress, or both. In a timely illustration of Gunu’s sentiment, she looked out at the crowd and let out a demanding squawk.
There was a moment of silence, then many began talking and shifting uncomfortably, some looking toward the door out of the apartment.
“Everyone, stay where you are,” Gunu instructed. “She’s looking for someone in particular. Moving about will only disturb her progress.”
The mother continued to scan the room, craning her head to see the furthest corners. When she finally found the one she wanted, Wrath stretched her neck to the full and pointed her beak, mane standing on end.
Gunu followed her gaze. “Ah, of course. Come this way, my dear.” He opened the door and held out his hand, ready to usher the mother’s choice to the nest. A wave of chatter went up among the spectators, some of it excited over this unusual occurrence, but a few of those who observed seemed disturbed—the general and her two captains in particular.
Leslyn noticed that a sweat had broken out on Kaleit's furrowed brow. He was tall, but he too craned his head, trying to see through the yammering crowd. At last, the object of Wrath’s search hesitantly came around the perimeter of the apartment, watching the massive griffin with uncertainty as she reached out to take Gunu’s hand.
Wrath’s first choice… was Erin.