Elda looks twice the size when she’s flying! Lukin thought admiringly.
Wermacht gave Elda a thoroughly nervous look. “I shall have to think about this,” he told Lukin. “Tell your sister I shall put my whole mind to the problem.”
Lukin watched Wermacht stride hastily away. “Sorry,” he said to Claudia. “I’d no idea it would hurt you. I was trying to get Wermacht to take whatever he did off you, but I don’t think the fool knows what he did.”
“Perhaps,” suggested Olga, “we should have a go at it ourselves.”
“Not just now,” Claudia said. When Wermacht had pulled at the cloakrack, it had felt as if every nerve in her body was trying to come loose. She was still feeling faint and looking greenish.
“Lunch,” said Ruskin.
As he spoke, the students up ahead of them began milling about and giving interested murmurs. Someone was trying to push through them toward the Spellman Building. Claudia caught one glimpse of the shining helmet on the head of this person—or rather, the purple-and-red crest of horsehair on the top of his helmet—and hid behind Elda, looking greener than ever.
She gasped. “Don’t let him see me!”
Elda spread both wings a little to hide Claudia and stared above everyone’s head at the advancing person. In addition to the flashing gold-colored helmet, he wore a breastplate of the same shiny metal above a neat little skirt of white kidskin with metal plates dangling on it and sandals with metal shin guards below that. His wide sword made his short scarlet cloak stick out jauntily. Elda stared down at him with interest. She had never seen anyone dressed like this in the flesh, though her sister Callette had. Callette had been to the Empire and done paintings of legionaries. Elda had seen those. But she was quite astonished when this legionary strode right up to her and, bowing his helmeted head, dropped briefly on one knee in front of her. Elda could feel Claudia quivering behind her. She had no idea what to do. She was quite relieved when the man sprang smartly to his feet and, obviously not realizing Elda could speak, asked Felim, who was nearest, “Your pardon, young sir, where do I find the headmaster of this school?”
“I fancy you must mean Wizard Corkoran,” Felim told him. “Go over there, to the Spellman Building. Someone in the office there will tell you how to find him.”
The man thanked him and strode away. Elda’s head turned to watch him go. “Whyever did he kneel down like that?” she said.
Claudia gave a weak little giggle behind her. “Didn’t you know? The golden griffin is the crest of the Emperor of the South. He was paying his respects to my brother, Titus.”
TEN
CLAUDIA’S FRIENDS WERE slightly puzzled when Claudia said she would do without lunch and meet them in Elda’s room afterward. “Do you not want to meet your brother then?” Felim asked.
“It’s not my brother,” was all Claudia would say, and she left at a run with the faithful cloakrack clattering after.
The others went into the refectory. Here they found that the new cook had produced a choice between the usual stew and sandwiches. “Using up leftover bread,” Ruskin said, gloomily prodding packets with a large finger. “Soft as a slug in the middle and hard as nails at the edges. Wait till I get my food-spells right.”
“We might take Claudia some, though,” Olga suggested.
They each stuffed a packet of the sandwiches into Elda’s bag and chose stew. Feeling more honest if they did without pudding—it was called fool and looked like brown custard, and no one wanted it, anyway—they left early. And stood staring in amazement at the bottom of the refectory steps as a trumpet rang out and a procession crossed the courtyard toward the Spellman Building.
First came a squad of men dressed like the legionary who had knelt to Elda, all in step, skirts swinging demurely, helmet plumes bobbing in rhythm. These were followed by a second squad. In the space between the two squads, very stately and carefully not walking in step with the soldiers, came two elderly men draped in dark purple versions of Claudia’s wrap. You could tell they were important, Elda thought, because each of them had a band made of green leaves stuck end to end, like a crown, around his head. If that didn’t tell you, it was obvious from the important looks on their wrinkled faces.
One of the wrinkled faces turned Elda’s way. Someone barked a command. Both squads wheeled through ninety degrees, and the procession advanced on Elda, spread out in a line now, with the wrinkled men in the middle.
Lukin, muttering that his father had been at war with the Empire for the last eight years, backed out of sight behind Elda. Elda herself was so alarmed to find all these people pacing toward her that her front legs retreated toward her hind legs of their own accord, arcing her back and causing her wings to spring out on either side of her. Quite without meaning to, she bent her neck to the attack position and raised her crest. The measured steps of the advancing Empire people faltered, just slightly, at the sight.
Ruskin uttered a buzzing moan of distress and dived under Elda’s outspread left wing. “Hide me!” he said desperately.
The change in the direction of the procession had revealed the party of dwarfs that had been following it. They were even more resplendently caparisoned than the Empire party and were standing, annoyed and deserted, scowling toward Elda.
“They’ve come to get me!” Ruskin’s voice buzzed, muffled and feathery.
Elda made haste to bring her wings to her sides and to sit down. Her tail had been nervously lashing at Lukin’s shins, and she quickly brought it around to coil in front of her feet and hide Ruskin’s legs. But her crest stayed up. She was quite surprised by the surge of motherly protectiveness that swept through her. It was the feel of Ruskin huddled against her side and the sound of his voice
vibrating in her wing. Mother griffins, she realized of a sudden, were meant to protect their young ones this way.
She watched alertly while the Empire party all went down on one knee before her, the wrinkled ones rather slowly and creakingly. Beyond them the dwarfs shrugged and continued on their way toward the Spellman Building. Elda was so relieved to see the dwarfs go that she said kindly to the Empire people, “Do get up, and I hope all the right things happen in the Empire.”
They all jumped at hearing her speak, and even the soldiers floundered a bit getting to their feet. Once upright, they realized that the dwarf party was now ahead of them. Someone barked, “Quick, march!” and they all set off toward the Spellman Building at a walk that was nearly a sprint.
Felim gently picked up the edge of Elda’s wing and peered in at the cowering Ruskin. “Why are you so very frightened?”
“Get me to Elda’s room,” Ruskin buzzed back, “and I’ll explain.”