12.2

Jewel was not expecting to feel as strongly as she did when they broke camp as an army for the last time.

It was not a complete dissolution of the soldiers. There were still those that would be following them along the roads.

And at least right now, a bit more than half the army was not yet fully parting ways as they still needed to travel out to the rest of Viznove.

But Count Fiebron and his lords from Zekhedge were turning home now. Splitting off down another road from Jewel and the levies from Viznove.

Also surprising for Jewel was that most of the Levy from Rochford were leaving well ahead of the army. It made sense when Jewel thought about it. They were already practically home, a solid day’s hike or less for some of them.

But seeing that core of Rochford men melt away in the morning?

The only remaining friends from home were the Footmen, Bromthil, Kraok her Squire and Father.

It made Jewel sad in a way she never would have expected.

One of them had taken an arrow when she was not fast enough.

Another had swept into the space her own jaws had cleared to cover her neck from a charging footman’s jab.

They had fought together for a single furious day and marched many more besides that.

And now they were off home to do peasant things again.

And Jewel was still with the army.

Scouting and flight were less of a duty now.

Missives had been sent and a rider from Rochford had confirmed that the High King Mathias had ceded the claims of the war.

There would be an official celebration in Kaeketeh (which Jewel, Father and the rest of their family would be attending) and maybe even a royal visit in a few years time after that from Mathias himself and his court to solidify things.

But the tension that had hung over them even as they had ostensibly won the war finally began to lift.

The old stink of it slowly coming clean from Father with each day.

So Jewel flew more or less for nothing more than exercise and the joy of it. The other Gryphon Riders were also making sport, much as they had during the muster. Making aerial demonstrations of acrobatics, performing hunts on what game they could find by wing in the forests of Rochford.

Jewel enjoyed these, even if she still could not match even Zephyrvam in a race.

She was third place amongst them in dives though!

And absolutely first amongst all for her powers of sight, sometimes even spotting things before the Gryphons themselves did.

But for all that distraction, and though she could still see the little clumps of departing allies and comrades in arms or the sinuous coils of the Zhekhedge army on the march from above, there was a sense of finality to it all.

The followers' camp was also breaking up. Some had even done so before they reached Rochford.

Taking other paths and roads north, south or even back west the way that they had just marched.

Burdened carts, mules and travel bags with goods or coins gained in the campaign.

For all the time it took to gather everyone together and make an orderly march of them, the pace at which the army simply was disappearing to every direction now that it was no longer needed was incredible.

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Jewel swung in the air and flapped her wings hard. Angling such to beg off another offering to dive and dance in the air with the other fliers.

She instead sank low to settle amidst the all but gone herd of goats that had been brought as griffon feed.

She was gentle, coming to rest alongside the path and the goatherds gave her a nod.

Smithson was leading Ox-hoof along with the other Gryphon minders. The pace of the army, even much diminished, was still plenty slow to handle on two feet without a horse.

He brightened up and broke away from them much to his laden mare’s annoyance at the increased pace.

“Lady Jewel! What brings you to the ground so early? Do you need me to run a message or perhaps a snack?!”

She waved him off though.

“No, Squire, I simply wished for some company and the sound of a friendly voice. The flight cant is all well and good, and flying is wonderful, but it is not the same.”

Smithson nodded and slowed a pace to let the irate Ox-hoof relax in her plodding walk.

Jewel slid in amongst the herd of goat keepers and with the space in the march they were still afforded, it was almost comical to have more minders then beast and so much open space in the marching line besides.

But Jewel trusted there was some good reason for it.

They had been diminished as well. Half their number (and goats) split off to join Count Fiebron’s march home.

The rest would likely part when they reached Rochford with each of their own gryphon lords and knights.

Jewel looked over at Smithson and nodded with a smile.

“How have you taken to your first war my Squire?”

Smithson flushed in the way it had taken Jewel quite too long to realize was shame rather than anger.

“Might I be honest, Lady Jewel?”

Jewel for her part nodded to him and shook out her wing shoulders. Skipping lightly in the packed dirt of the road. Her wyrmfire was more than full enough to lift her with every step in the sinuous grace she preferred.

“It was rather boring, my Lady Jewel, a whole lot of walking, waiting around in camp, a bit of busy work. When we make or break camp, I think I worked harder on our trip to Kaeketeh. And harder by far than either the war or that trip when I simply stay home and mind the stables. ”

That was certainly not what she expected.

But then many people were in the camp that never even saw battle.

Her squire was not younger than some of the Levy, but his role as a minder with the other Gryphon keeping staff kept him in camp.

At the same time Jewel considered the thought of an arrow or one of the sorcerous forces cutting Smithson down in a blink.

Of her own Wyrmflame gone awry and leaving him nothing but ash.

Or maimed but yet living.

Screaming like the broken horses and men on the battlefield.

Doomed but still breathing.

Jewel could not keep her voice from being small and quiet.

“Would you have preferred to fight? With me and the rest from Rochford?”

Smithson for his part broke into the widest grin and in that moment Jewel realized what one of the looks Father had been giving her all this year meant.

The sad, pained yet proud looks in his eyes.

Jewel was certain if she could see her own face she would have the same eyes.

“Of course, Lady Jewel!”

She saw her Squire and friend walking there beside her, looking up to her with wonder and pride and bravery.

Saying he wanted to go to war with her.

Jewel could barely bring the words from her throat.

But she had to say them.

“Of Course, my Squire, I will see to it.”

What else could she do?