Gargoyles 1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Greg Weisman and Disney, not to me. If I did own them, there would be merchandise sold in every store However, all OCs belong to me and cannot be used without my permission.

Once Upon a Time, There Were Three Brothers…

February 1st, 971

Wyvern Hill, Scotland

Horses' hooves crunched over the thin layer of snow and ice covering the terrain. Two riders paused just before reaching the high cliffs of Wyvern Hill. They stopped about a mile away from their destination, each knowing they could easily sneak into the Rookery and be present among the sleeping sentinels as the clan awakened. But both knew that was no way to gain allies, so the men waited patiently as the sun set across the ocean waves.

A burly man in his mid-twenties with the face of a bulldog and broad shoulders to match turned to his younger teenaged companion. "Remember th' last time we were here, Prince Malcolm?"

The handsome young man with a mane of dark, wavy brown hair and a slight frame nodded solemnly. "Aye, Robbie, how could I forget such a foreboding night? We knew we were no match for Culen, but we never expected the travesty that befell."

"Well, my Liege," Lieutenant Robert replied grimly as the sun's last rays disappeared below the horizon. "We'll soon learn if this night will be more promising."

"Let us pray for that." Prince Malcolm tried to control the involuntary shiver of fear that jerked through his body. He had seen gargoyles before, but only at great distances. He'd never needed to approach one, especially for something as imperative as an alliance. Even from their vantage point, the men could hear the resonance of stone crackling apart and the eerie, deafening roars that erupted from the caverns above. Yet, he put his faith in his loyal friend Robert, who had experience in corresponding with the beasts, and he knew the alliance was needed. Malcolm forced his fear to subside as the two men tied their horses to a craggily tree below the hill and began to climb up the steep grade, each taking great pains to keep their hands visible.

As they climbed, a sentry swooped down upon them. Malcolm gasped in terror as the monstrous blue-grey demon with a thick mane of snowy white hair and two great devil horns protruding from his forehead landed in front of them, impeding their advance. The gargoyle towered above the men at full height, practically unclad save for a simple barbaric loincloth. "What brings you to our Rookery?" He asked in a deep, rumbling voice.

Malcolm smiled in spite of himself. The gargoyle, though substantial in height and build, spoke with a cadence that betrayed the inexperience and excitement of one no older than Malcolm's own age of seventeen. Robbie stood to meet the gargoyle. "Greetings, friend. We've come t' see yer leader. He an' I've met before."

"I remember you." The gargoyle answered Robbie as he cast a sharp glance in Malcolm's direction. The tone of his voice made it very clear that Malcolm was a stranger and not welcome in the Rookery.

"Not t' worry, lad. Malcolm will nay cause harm. He's my friend." Robbie's mustached face brightened with a fond smile. "My greatest friend. I would lay down my life for him."

The gargoyle nodded, impressed by Robbie's loyalty, and then eyed Malcolm speculatively. Malcolm found himself staring in awe of his friend. He had always known Robbie's loyalty ran deep within the burly man, yet to hear his friend make such a verbal declaration warmed his very soul.

The gargoyle suddenly crouched to all fours. "Follow me." He requested. He leapt away from them, running on all fours like a wild beast. Robbie and Malcolm paused for a moment and watched the massive creature run nimbly to his home before they continued their climb. Once they reached the top of Wyvern Hill, the clan stood in wait.

The blue-grey male escorted Robbie and Malcolm through a gauntlet of gargoyles of all shapes and sizes and Malcolm was awestruck for the second time that evening; there were tall ones, short ones, ones with dragon-like wings with struts separating the membranes, ones with wings that had no separating membranes, and ones with strange wings that attached to their wrists and legs through a sort of webbed membrane structure. Some had sharp, pointed beaks like birds or beast-like muzzles while others had facial features as human as Robbie or himself. Some appeared quite old while others were mere children.

At last, they were led to a broad-shouldered, tan-skinned male with three pointed horns lining his brow ridge, a crown of grayish-white hair, and a thick beard of the same color. With his loincloth, he was outfitted in a tough leather jerkin and trousers wrapped around his calves. Next to him stood two other gargoyles; an athletically-built female the color of a brilliant aquamarine jewel dressed in an ivory tunic-style dress with thick shoulder straps and a male the color of purple heather growing wild in the fields clothed in a brown loincloth. The female's pierced ears were webbed like a fish's fins and her head was completely devoid of hair. Instead, her forehead was adorned with a simple brow ridge that crested into a row of aquamarine-colored spikes down the middle of her head. Though she was clearly a formidable warrior, Malcolm found he was not immune to the pleasant appearance of her humanistic features. He looked away from her and studied the lavender male. He was another youth who appeared the same age as their blue-grey guide. Malcolm felt himself a proverbial David compared to this Goliath-sized youth with the thick mane of sable hair. His build was that of a quintessential warrior; imposingly tall with defined muscles filling every ounce of sinew in his frame, but Malcolm was most impressed by the intelligence that radiated from his young face.

"Leader, these humans request an audience with you." The blue-grey male gestured to Robbie and Malcolm.

The tan male stepped forward, his eyes suspicious and inquisitive. He sniffed the air once, as though he could read their mission through their scent, then tilted his head cautiously as he addressed Robbie. "Well, now, lad. What brings ye to our clan?"

Malcolm again found himself smiling despite his nerves. The leader's accented voice was brusque, yet rich and comforting with a hint of mirth. Robbie stepped forward. "I wish I could say our visit was fer pleasant reasons, my friend, but our mission is dire. We have come t' propose an alliance between your clan an' my friend's family."

"An' just why would ye be proposing such an alliance?" The tan leader crossed his arms across his wide chest. The aquamarine female placed her hands on her hips, widening her stance as she cocked one hip to the side while the young lavender male crossed his arms over his massive chest.

"For the protection of all who live in Scotland!" Malcolm burst in one nervous breath. Though he meant his declaration to be taken seriously, he recognized how inexperienced and impulsive he sounded.

The tan leader stroked his beard. "Be that as it may, how will protectin' humans affect my clan?"

Malcolm hesitated. Though he felt well-prepared to speak with the leader, that question was one he had not anticipated. He glanced at the leader, then the aquamarine female, then at the lavender male as he silently formulated a worthy response. He looked around at the surrounding clan until his eyes settled on five children, two females and three males, no more than six years of age, edging their way to the front of the group to peer curiously at the humans in their midst. The sight of the innocent children gave him the answer he needed. Malcolm bravely faced the tan leader. "If we triumphantly defeat Culen and his army, Scotland will become a safer place for your children to thrive."

"Our children are perfectly safe wit'in our protectorate." The tan leader responded dismissively. Malcolm lowered his head in defeat. The tan leader continued. "Ye have gumption, lad, however…"

To Malcolm's surprise, the aquamarine female placed her hand on the tan leader's arm. "My love, perhaps we should discuss this matter in private. There is much to consider in their proposal." Her eyes drifted to the five young gargoyles, and a motherly light that made Malcolm's heart ache for his own adored mother warmed her face.

The leader glanced in surprise at his mate, and Malcolm wondered if she did not often question his decisions. The leader then followed the aquamarine female's line of vision until his eyes rested on the children. He rewarded the five with a stern look, and they stopped their advancement. After another moment's thought, he nodded in agreement. "You speak wisely, my love. Come, we will discuss this matter away from pryin' ears." He cloaked his wings over his shoulders as he and the aquamarine female led the two humans away.

The five hatchlings watched as the humans followed their leader and his mate out of the main commune. A small olive green male with distinctive tan-colored webbed-wings and large, studious eyes turned to his rookery siblings with disappointment. "We only caught a glimpse of them!"

"They had no wings!" A pink-skinned female with wide doe eyes and bouncy blonde curls whispered in horror. She turned to her aqua-skinned rookery sister with long raven hair. "Did you see, Sister?"

"I certainly did, Sister!" The aqua female responded enthusiastically. Her large, almond-shaped eyes twinkled with excitement. "Did you see their hands, Brother?"

A beaked male with crimson skin and a wild mane of snowy white hair nodded energetically. "They had no talons! How can they fight without talons?" The five stared pensively at their clawed hands.

A rumbling sound caught their attention and four hatchlings looked to their left. The fifth hatchling, an aquamarine male with webbed ears rubbed his plump stomach sheepishly. "Do you suppose supper is ready? I do not wish to miss it!"

The raven-haired female laughed. "Our rookery mothers will find us."

A dark shadow loomed over them and they all looked up. The young lavender male towered above them with his arms crossed over his broad chest. "Perhaps you should save your rookery mothers the trouble of searching for you and return to them instead." He rumbled through an amused smile.

The pink female shyly edged closer to her aqua sister and smiled sweetly at the older gargoyle. The other four hatchlings rewarded the lavender male with bright, innocent smiles, some looking more innocent than others. "Yes, Brother." They replied in one voice as they scampered off.

Malcolm and Robbie followed their hosts into a side tunnel of Wyvern Hill. The pale white moonlight faded as they ventured into the tunnel. Malcolm remained close to Robbie, wondering if this had been his wisest idea as they were led into darkness. He had heard stories that gargoyle abilities far surpassed human senses, and he knew the gargoyles possessed keen night vision to aid with hunting and nighttime battle. He forced another shiver to subside as he realized they were at their hosts' mercy in the dark tunnels. He silently prayed to the Almighty, the blessed Mother, and, for good measure, every saint he knew for the courage, wisdom, and strength to survive this night, to be protected from all possible harm as they weaved through the gloomy passageway. To his surprise, they emerged into a large cavern illuminated by an eerie, pale, greenish-white light. Malcolm sucked in his breath as they entered the cavern. Glowing moss lit the cavern, casting soft yet peculiar shadows over the gargoyles' and Robbie's features. Malcolm pictured himself looking as ghostly as the others, an image he found morbid yet entertaining, and in that moment, his fear subsided and he felt his confidence return.

"Now, lad," the leader's gruff voice again filled with a hint of good humor, as though he detected Malcolm's thoughts. "Speak yer mind freely."

Malcolm hesitated, glancing at Robbie for support. Robbie, misinterpreting his friend's need, stepped forward. "My friend, my Prince comes t' ye with a desperate plea. King Culen murdered his eldest brother, takin' the land an' crown from Scotland's rightful ruler. Culen has driven young Malcolm's family from their homes. We've been awaitin' Culen's swift demise, to end his tyranny wit'out bloodshed, but news arrived. Culen an' his queen spawned an heir. That babe will nay be good news fer the innocents of this land."

"Aye, an' how will this affect my clan?" The leader again asked, eyeing Malcolm sternly. "This young whelp hardly seems prepared for th' ills of battle."

Malcolm knew the leader expected him to prove his worth. He also knew he had to prove he was in charge, not Robbie, in order to gain the leader's respect and secure the alliance. Clearing his throat, he stepped forward. "Leader, I have already experienced the horrors of war. I do not desire to fight, but I see no other choice. Culen has robbed me of my brother, my father, and my beloved mother. I will not allow him to rob the innocents of my protectorate or continue to desecrate all of Scotland. If he is successful, your clan will be no safer than my family. He will invade your territory and destroy your loved ones without a second thought." He held his hand to shake with the leader. "Join my brother's army in this battle, and when my brother Kenneth assumes the throne, your clan will fall under my family's protection. Gargoyles will no longer be hunted and destroyed, as will be decreed in my law." He paused and the aquamarine female gave him the briefest of nods, giving him encouragement that his words had been sensible and heartfelt.

The aquamarine female then turned to her beloved leader. "He speaks wisely, my love. This alliance promises a hopeful future for our clan."

"Gargoyles live t' protect, as does Prince Malcolm's family. There's a great risk in trusting Culen to leave yer clan in peace." Robbie pressed on. "Ye will nay find a better union than wit' my friend."

"We have young ones who need tendin'. The battlefield is no place fer hatchlings." The leader crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head in thought, bringing one hand up to stroke his beard. "The little ones could be sent to th' rookery while we fight yer war. But tell me, young prince, who will protect our rookery while we are in the heat of battle?"

"Humans build fortresses in times of war." A seedling of an idea grew in Malcolm's mind, and the idea matured as he spoke. "With your permission, a castle could be constructed on this very hill, surrounding your rookery and protecting all who dwell here. Your young ones would be protected in a safe haven while you provide aid to my armies. The castle would become your new protectorate, and in return, I could ensure your protection by day."

"An' precisely what will become of my clan durin' the day? Ye say ye can offer protection, but what of my warriors caught away from shelter at dawn?"

"I'll protect ye," Robbie spoke, his fist nobly crossed over his heart. "Even if it costs me my life, no harm will befall your clan while I draw breath."

Malcolm nodded in agreement as he continued. "We shall train warriors to protect your clan during the day. Their only goal on the battlefield will be to guard your clan."

The leader and his love exchanged a glance filled with silent conversation. After a long moment, the leader nodded. "I know ye to be a man of yer word." He murmured thoughtfully to Robbie. "Very well. I will consider yer request, but this is nay a decision t' be made in haste. I must seek council wit' my second an' will provide an answer by dawn."

"You are welcome to stay within the comforts of our protectorate." The aquamarine female offered. "Please, warm yourselves by our fires while you recover from your journey."

"I thank you, Milady." Malcolm responded with a gracious nod of his head. "But we must first attend to our horses. They have waited patiently and I fear they may need nourishment after their endeavor. We would be honored to join you after our task is complete."

The aquamarine female granted him a maternal smile that once again made him yearn for his own mother. "If your beasts need shelter from the cold, our hill has many caverns."

The two men took their leave of the leader and his mate and climbed down to their horses. Malcolm glanced over his shoulder. "Robert, you once stated this clan does not name their members. Why is that, when the Scone Clan has chosen to take names?"

"Aye, Biblical names, given by the humans who live near their roost." Robbie replied with a shrug of his broad shoulder. "I favor this clan's frame of mind. They view one another simply as 'friend' an' that's good enough fer them. They reason they look different an' tend to provide basic titles to their leader and mentors. If humans had the same ideals as these gargoyles, we would nay be preparin' for war."

Malcolm pondered this. "Your offer to lead a squad of men in their protection was quite noble, Robert."

"I meant every word, my Liege. I would no sooner see harm befall our winged allies as I would you."

Malcolm again felt touched at his friend's sincere words. He reflected on his conversation with the leader of the clan and his mate, feeling confident that the leader's mate had seen the advantages of their proposed alliance. He could only pray the second was as much a visionary. "Robbie, what do you know of the second-in-command? Is he as likely to support us as the leader's mate?"

"Aye, lad. I believe th' second will be as supportive as th' leader's mate." Robbie's mouth curved into a wry smile that became partially hidden beneath his bushy mustache.

"Then we must seek counsel with the second-in-command before the leader makes his decision."

"Lad, you already sought counsel wit' the second, an' she seemed quite taken with ye."

"She?" Malcolm repeated. He stared at Robbie with confusion as they approached their horses.

Robbie's face filled with a wide grin he could no longer contain. "She was only standin' there the entire time, an' judgin' by her encouragements, th' leader will soon see our situation through her convictions." His firm hands grasped his horse's reins. Malcolm did the same. As he thought about the implications of the aquamarine female in the position of the clan's second-in-command, he couldn't help but feel hope soar in his heart. Perhaps they would have more success than he had ever dreamed.

They untied their steeds and led them up the steep incline of Wyvern Hill. Malcolm turned to his friend. "Robert, is it common for females to lead among the gargoyles?"

Robert replied with a brief nod. "Their society is an unusual one, Prince, but an admirable one. They see each other as equals in all ways of life. The females fight alongside th' males, some wit' more ferocity than their brothers, an' they lead as skillfully as their male counterparts. The only difference between the males an' the females is the females lay the eggs an' tend to the newly hatched as only a mother can care for her wee babe." He said with a slight chuckle.

Malcolm nodded, still digesting the fact that females were provided with the opportunity to serve as leaders among the gargoyles before his mind turned back to the more pressing matter at hand. "If this pact is made, can we ensure their loyalty or will they be swayed by Culen?"

Robbie halted his easy gait. "My Liege, the need t' protect is embedded in their very natures. Humans can be bought by a measly pile of gold, but gargoyles have no need for such means. I daresay their betrayal is something we needn't fear."

"What do we need to fear from them if not their betrayal?"

"Not one thing, my Liege. They live t' protect, an' if they join us, we become part of their territory. Ye will never find subjects more fierce or loyal than th' gargoyles." Robbie stated matter-of-factly.

"More loyal and fierce than even you, my friend?" Malcolm asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Lad, ye already know the limits of my loyalty." Robbie jested.

"Aye, that I do." Malcolm replied with a smile as they selected a suitable cavern for their horses.

Malcolm and Robbie hobbled and tended to their horses in the cavern below the hill. At Robbie's suggestion, the men selected travel rations from their saddle packs and stepped out of the cavern. The aquamarine second alighted in front of them. "If you desire a hot meal, our hunters returned triumphantly. Our kills roast as we speak and there is more than enough to share."

Malcolm bowed his head respectfully. "We welcome your generosity and graciously accept your invitation." He passed his rations to Robbie and watched as the burly man returned the goods to their packs.

The second's pink lips curved into a warm smile. "Follow me, lads."

She led them above the caverns to the plateau outcropping of land. Fires blazed in large pits where several small kills roasted on open spits. Adults and adolescents tended to the kills, turning the meat as it cooked while others diligently watched the young in play.

"Humans, I have unanswered questions." The second began conversationally, though she lowered her voice. "You promise the safety of our hatchlings, and for that I am grateful, but what of our eggs? We have a clutch close to hatching and the clan would be devastated should they be destroyed. They are defenseless in our rookery."

"My good lady," Malcolm felt he owed her the truth. "We may not have much time before battle breaks over these lands. We may only have enough time to build a wall upon these cliffs, but I swear to you that your children, all of them, will be safe from Culen."

"Who will defend this wall? Certainly you do not expect such a task from the hatchlings." She pressed as she crossed her arms over her chest, an aquamarine talon tapping the golden cuff on her left bicep.

"Soldiers will diligently guard the fortress, to protect yer young an' the builders." Robbie promised.

"Will these soldiers and builders prove trustworthy? Will our children be safe from them?" She eyed them sternly, awaiting the truth, though Malcolm did not miss the concern in her dark eyes.

Malcolm, again with the suspicion his leadership was being tested, stepped forward. "These men shall be hand-selected by my brother with the orders that all who reside within the fortress walls be treated equally. No unlawful act shall go unpunished. To harm a gargoyle would result in the same punishment as harming a human. If these men do not meet my approval, they shall be returned to my brother."

"You decree the human laws?" She asked curiously.

Malcolm nodded. "I am my brother's right arm. Once I reside here, I will create the laws for my lands and for the people who dwell within them. My brother will create the laws for all of Scotland. With your people at our side, we will create a society that is lawful and just for humans and gargoyles alike."

She nodded sagely. "I have long desired a bond between gargoyles and humans. Not all in my clan feel we need human allies, but for the sake of the young ones, our clan must learn to thrive among your kind." She gazed about her clan until her eyes settled on her mate and she smiled. "Alas, my time is not my own. I take my leave, but please, feast among my clan."

"Thank ye." Robbie said with a smile.

Malcolm again dipped his head. "I thank you for your hospitality."

She cast her motherly smile upon him and walked away. The men soon found themselves a spectacle among the clan, especially by the hatchlings. As the men approached the fires, Malcolm noticed many of the youngest generation seeking comfort among their older kin as they stared curiously and fearfully. Robbie stooped down and lifted two flat rocks from the ground. He dusted away the dirt with his calloused hand, then gave Malcolm one of the stones. Malcolm nodded his thanks and approached one of the cook fires with his crude plate.

They sliced their portions with Robbie's belt knife and then selected a cluster of large boulders to sit upon while they ate. The clan left them in peace, providing a large circumference of space between the men and the feasting gargoyles. Malcolm chewed pensively while he scrutinized the clan. Robbie had been correct when he promised the Wyvern Clan to be of harder stock than the Scone Clan. Each adult member seemed more than a worthy opponent in battle. Some even carried weapons, though they appeared primitive to modern iron tools. A select few carried stone-tipped spears or bows with arrows of the same nature.

Malcolm was pulled from his speculations as Robbie chuckled softly. "We're about t' have company, my Liege." He said quietly between bites of meat. He nodded his head in the direction of a group of the clan.

Malcolm instantly recognized the five hatchlings as the ones who had tried to approach earlier. As they crept closer, Malcolm studied the youths. They were clearly being led by a wiry-framed, crimson-colored male with a wild mane of snowy white hair that tumbled down his back, a prominent beak upon his face, and two long horns atop his brow ridge. Two males followed closely behind in a single line; a tall, somewhat rotund, male colored the same aquamarine hue as the second-in-command with her distinctive fin-like ears and crest to match, yet his facial features vaguely reminded Malcolm of the gruff clan leader. He carried a hunk of meat in his hand as he gamely ambled after his brothers. The third male, sandwiched between his crimson brother and aquamarine brother, was mossy green in color, with a smooth, bald head. His unusually large eyes and small stature made him appear younger than his brothers. His wings, the strange webbed-wings Malcolm had seen earlier, had been pierced to allow the hatchling to wear a dark blue wool loincloth, the same color and texture as the loincloths on his brothers. The two females shadowed the three males. The first female was the calming aqua hue of a flawless piece of sea glass with large, almond-shaped eyes and long raven hair that cascaded unrestrained down her back. Her heart-shaped face was quite human in appearance, a trait Malcolm had learned was common among most of the females in the clan, with a brow ridge that contained a pointed horn on each side. The second female, practically dragged behind the males by the aqua female, was the rosy pink of a flock of verbascum flowers with wide doe eyes and golden curls that fell upon her narrow shoulders. She was also quite human in face and slender in frame like her aqua-skinned sister, though her tiny build was willowy compared to the aqua female. The rest of her features were more difficult to discern as she kept nervously ducking behind her sister. Both females were dressed in white tunic dresses similar to the second-in-command. As they approached, Malcolm took note of their wings. The crimson male and aqua female had what appeared to be small hands composed of a thumb and two clawed fingers while the pink female and aquamarine male had a single tip at the intersection of their wing joints.

As Robbie predicted, the five stopped in front of the two men, fearlessly stepping into the open space surrounding the humans. They looked at each other with triumphant grins then focused their attentions on the humans before them.

Malcolm smiled warmly at the children, as the young ones reminded him of his young nephews back home in Northumberland Keep. "Good evening, brave adventurers. It appears you accomplished quite a feat. I am Malcolm, travelling with my friend and protectorate, Lieutenant Robert. You are welcome among…"

Three of them spoke at once, interrupting Malcolm's greeting. "How do you fight without talons?" The crimson male asked while the aqua female burst in the same breath. "Where are your wings?"

"What were those strange beasts you led below? Are they for travel or food?" The olive green male's reedy voice blended with his siblings' questions.

Malcolm shared an amused glance with Robbie. Having finished his meal, Malcolm rested his hands on one knee. "Well, now, which question do I answer first?"

"Mine!" All three responded. They peered competitively at each other, as though determining whose question was most important. The males faced off. "You promised he would answer my questions, Brother." The olive male accused.

"After he answered my questions, Brother." The crimson male replied with a clipped edge to his young voice. The aqua female stood back with an exasperated sigh and waited for the dispute to end. The pink female cupped her small hand over her mouth and whispered something in the aqua female's ear, causing her to giggle. The rotund aquamarine male took a bite out of the meat he carried and watched his brothers with interest.

Malcolm, being a prince taught in the ways of chivalry by his loving mother, smiled at the aqua female. "Perhaps we may answer your question while these two resolve their quarrel?"

She rewarded her brothers with a smug smile before she looked up at Malcolm with luminous eyes. "Where are your wings?" She repeated innocently.

Robbie chuckled good-naturedly. Malcolm suppressed his laughter to save the child embarrassment. "Young one, humans are not so fortunate to have been born with wings. We must walk this earth without ever experiencing flight."

She and her pink sister exchanged a meaningful glance, sharing a silent conversation with their eyes as the leader and his second had earlier in the evening. The pink one huddled closer to her sister and stared apprehensively at the men with her doe eyes.

The aquamarine male eyed the remainder of Malcolm's meat, resting disregarded on Malcolm's makeshift stone plate. "Are you planning to eat that?" He asked hopefully.

Wordlessly, Malcolm handed the plate to the chubby hatchling. The aquamarine male took the meat from the stone and happily took a bite. Malcolm tossed the stone to the ground.

The crimson male stared at Malcolm's pale hands. "How do you fight without talons?"

"We don' need talons t' defeat our enemies, lad." Robbie boasted proudly. "We have tools t' guarantee our victories." He unsheathed his belt knife, small in comparison to the broadsword also sheathed on his belt, but impressive in its own right. The hatchlings stared at it curiously.

"I've never seen such tools!" The olive green male's eyes lit with excitement and wonder. "What kind of stone did you use?"

Robbie held the knife out so the small green male could inspect it further. "We've advanced beyond simple stone tools, lad. We use iron to make tools an' weapons. Tis much stronger than stone." The green male touched the knife, studying it intently with his large eyes.

While the olive male examined the knife, the crimson male turned back to Malcolm. "What are the beasts you stored below?"

"Horses." Malcolm responded. "They have been domesticated to assist humans with the daily tasks of hauling and travel."

"Travel? You ride them?" The crimson male's eyes narrowed suspiciously. He glanced at his aqua sister and his beak formed into a mischievous smile. She returned the smile and nodded.

"Aye, they are ridden. They have the ability to travel long distances and carry supplies needed for the journey."

"Are they as fast as deer? They do not seem built for speed." The crimson male pressed curiously.

Before Malcolm could respond, an adult crimson-colored female with a silvery-white mane, a prominent beak upon her face, and horns that branched halfway up the shaft approached the group. "Young ones, leave our guests in peace. It is time to join your rookery siblings for training and chores."

They looked up, their eyes filled with disappointment, but the uncompromising look she cast made them sigh in defeat. "Yes, Mother." They chorused in one voice as they scampered away. The crimson female watched after them, then turned to Malcolm and Robbie. "Forgive them if they were a nuisance. They have never seen humans before and your presence proved too great a temptation."

"No need to apologize." Malcolm was surprised to find he already felt at ease with the gargoyles. "All children must satisfy their curiosity or they will never learn. But tell me, are they all yours? They each called you 'Mother', yet they are clearly the same age."

The crimson female's beak curved into an amused smile. "They are all my children, as hatchlings belong to the entire clan. It is each gargoyle's responsibility to teach them the Gargoyle Way."

"Do you know which hatchling is yours? Surely you must want to know which child is your own flesh and blood." Malcolm pressed. How could a mother not know her own offspring?

Her easy laugh surprised him. "By the Dragon, no, and if I did learn which was mine, it would make no difference to me. I love them equally, nothing could change that." She looked back in the direction of the five hatchlings with good humor. "Even those five rascals. Their antics have livened up the monotony of many an evening, but I believe the rigors of warrior training will settle them as they grow. If you like, you may watch our adolescents train. They are a quite impressive group." She motioned to a clearing near the rocky hill, where Malcolm could see the lavender male, the blue-grey male, and many other gargoyles gathering. "If you will excuse me, I must ensure the hatchlings are gathered for their lessons."

"A wise suggestion." Robbie replied with a grateful nod. "We need t' gain a sense of their abilities."

The two men left their rocky perches and wandered to the training grounds. Malcolm found himself evaluating the adolescents as the warriors entered the training ground and prepared to spar hand to hand. Malcolm's attention was drawn to the gigantic lavender male, whose performance he greatly anticipated. The lavender male squared off against a rich brown-colored male with a compact frame, yet thick as a tree trunk with defined muscles. His fin-like crest swept away from his forehead, his fin-like ears framed his square jaw, and Malcolm noted his loincloth appeared to be made of tan-colored rabbit pelts.

The other adolescents also anticipated this match of strength. They paused to surround their rookery brothers in a makeshift ring. Malcolm and Robbie joined the circle, and stood beside the adolescents, some of whom seemed uncomfortable with the humans in their midst and shifted closer to other siblings. Malcolm paid no heed as he focused on the males.

The males circled in the ring, each watching the other for the slightest hint of movement that would betray their opponent's attack. Without warning, the brown male charged the lavender male with a fierce battle cry. The lavender male reacted swiftly, moving with an agility Malcolm had not expected from the young giant. He jumped to the left to avoid the charge, and heaved the brown male aside. The brown male tumbled to the ground, somersaulting once from the force of his brother's shove, though he quickly returned to his feet. As he rose to his feet, the lavender male charged his opponent with his eyes ablaze. The brown male dodged the charge and the two again faced each other.

"They perform well tonight." The blue-grey sentry murmured in Malcolm's ear. "You chose a good match to observe."

"Are they rivals?" Malcolm asked without taking his eyes from the competitors.

The blue-grey male shook his head. "Not in the slightest. My rookery brothers are quite evenly matched as warriors, yet they are the closest of brothers and challenge the other to excel. They have not sparred against each other in some time."

The two combatants continued their heated match, each managing to throw the other across the ring and land the occasional strike. It was apparent to Malcolm that the two were indeed quite evenly matched, though the lavender male towered in size over his brown brother. Malcolm found himself again comparing the lavender male to the giant Goliath while his shorter rookery brother fell into the role of the fabled David. If the rest of the clan was half as skilled as the two before Malcolm, the clan would undeniably be a great asset to Kenneth's army.

The match ended abruptly as the brown male yet again ducked under the lavender male's charge. The brown male jumped onto the lavender male's back, pinning his wings and forcing him to the ground. The brown male remained on top, holding the lavender male to the ground, until an adult aqua-skinned male with wide horns that spiraled into his flowing raven hair and the split wings reminiscent of a butterfly's stepped into the ring. He clasped the brown male's broad shoulder. "We have a new champion this night!" He declared to the surrounded audience.

The brown male climbed off the lavender male's back as his eyes lost their illumination. He held his arm out to his rookery brother and pulled the lavender male to his feet. "Well fought, Brother. I owe your defeat to your teachings." He said through a teasing grin.

The lavender male clasped his forearm with a wry grin. "The credit is not mine to take, Brother, as your skill was your own. Well done."

The gathered gargoyles broke away into their practice pairs. A female the pale blue of the summer sky with a wild halo of fiery hair walked to the lavender male and pulled him into an embrace. "Well fought, my love." She told him as she lovingly stroked his brow ridge.

"Thank you, my Angel." He returned the affectionate touch and her smile warmed her face, then he turned in surprise as he realized Malcolm and Robbie stood nearby. He released the female, which caused her to scowl, and studied the humans with his intelligent dark eyes. "Has Leader declared his decision to assist your men?"

"We have yet t' hear word." Robbie replied easily.

The lavender male nodded. The sky blue female lightly rubbed a talon across his face, regaining his attention. "My love, we must practice. Let us not dawdle with these humans." She prompted with a frown directed at Malcolm and Robbie.

He tenderly stroked her flame-colored hair. "My practice time has ended, my Angel of the Night. Leader requested my presence and I must go to him." He rumbled in his deep voice. She nodded, and with one final uncertain glance at the humans, joined her rookery kin. The lavender male turned back to the men. "You shall hear from Leader soon."

Malcolm and Robbie continued to watch the adolescents practice. As the lavender male predicted, they were soon approached by a copper-skinned female with long golden curls and large, almond-shaped eyes. "Leader requested your audience. He is ready to give his answer." She said sweetly.

"Thank you, Milady." Malcolm smiled and she rewarded him with a smile that even he recognized as beautiful.

The aqua-colored teacher came up behind her and enveloped her in his muscular arms. "I envy these humans to receive such an enchanting messenger." He murmured in her ear. "If you have completed your task, perhaps there is a message I desire to share with you."

She laughed. "And leave your students without a teacher? Surely they would rebel their lessons and steal away for a night of fun."

"Let them. They have trained hard these past nights and deserve a rest. In fact," he told her with a gleam in his eye. "I shall dismiss them immediately." He left his love and gathered the adolescents to him. The copper female turned to the men. "Leader and Second await you by the cook fires." Her face again lit into her beautiful smile as her mate returned. The two of them clasped hands and took to the air.

Malcolm watched after their disappearing forms until they blended into the midnight sky. Robbie chuckled. "Come, lad. We don' want to keep the leader waitin'."

The two men walked to the fires. The leader, his aquamarine second, and the lavender male waited patiently. The leader stepped forward and crossed his arms over his chest. "I have made my decision." He said curtly, getting straight to the point of the conversation. Malcolm suddenly felt his heart flutter in his chest. If the leader refused, all of Scotland would be lost to Culen and his subjects. Malcolm had enjoyed his short time with the clan and couldn't bear the thought of Culen destroying the gargoyle clans. As if reading Malcolm's mind, the leader seemed to understand his nervousness and softened his tone. "Though it may not be th' wisest decision for gargoyles to side with humans, I have weighed the risks of both paths. Much has passed between humans and gargoyles, yet yer pleas ring true in my heart, young prince. This Rookery has belonged to my clan since time immemorial. Culen seems a terrible threat an' I would see him stopped before his poison spreads through our home. However, I cannae only allow yer men to guard our clan. A gargoyle can no more stop protectin' their Rookery than breathin' the air, an' so we will share the task of the rookery's defense. A handful of my warriors will refrain from battle and protect our clan's children with th' assistance of yer promised warriors."

Malcolm felt his heart leap in his chest. "Does this mean we have an alliance?" He asked, praying he did not sound as desperately hopeful as he felt. He glanced at the aquamarine second for confirmation. She rewarded him with her warm motherly smile.

The tan leader dipped his head once. "Aye, lad. We have an alliance."

Malcolm fought to control his excitement. "Leader, we are eternally grateful. I vow this alliance is but the beginning of a new age between gargoyles and humankind. Together, we shall forge a new future." Malcolm held his hand to shake with the leader.

The leader stared at Malcolm's outstretched hand before he grasped Malcolm's forearm in his massive hand with a wide smile. Malcolm wrapped his fingers around the leader's forearm and they both squeezed, solidifying their alliance. The tan leader released his arm, the grin still on his face. "Dawn approaches, but once I awaken, I wish t' hear more about yer proposed fortress."

To be continued...


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: Gargoyles belongs to Greg Weisman and Disney. All OCs belong to me and cannot be used without my permission.

Once Upon a Time, There Were Three Brothers Ch. 2

March 5th, 971

Wyvern Hill, Scotland

Malcolm surveyed the future home of Castle Wyvern with satisfaction. It had been four days since he and Robbie had returned by sea with their crew of men to begin the building of their grand fortress. The clan had welcomed Malcolm and Robbie with open arms, but they had been apprehensive to accept so many new human faces into their Rookery. Yet, the men proved to be good stock, hard workers who proved themselves loyal friends to Malcolm, Robbie, and the gargoyles. Malcolm credited Kenneth for recruiting good men.

Malcolm glanced at the rookery entrance and saw the two young men he'd assigned as the daytime watchers of the rookery and the gargoyles' eggs, strapping twin brothers in their sixteenth year, sharpening axes as they passed the time. The two lads had taken to the clan with the same fascination Malcolm had, and diligently stood guard at the unusually-shaped entrance during the day, preventing any other men from entering the mysterious cavern. Malcolm himself had only journeyed once into the depths of the rookery, under the guide of the aquamarine second-in-command. She had proudly shown him the nests of pale purple speckled gargoyle eggs, slightly larger than a human head, clustered together under the soft eerie light of the glowing moss. After viewing the nests, it had only become more apparent to Malcolm exactly what was at stake in the newfound alliance.

Near the construction site, Master Builder Conall hurriedly staked out the land to be excavated in preparations for the wall. With the gargoyles' assistance, the founding wall was proceeding faster than the master builder had predicted. Although the wall would take several months to complete, the gargoyles' strength and knowledge of the land, along with the ability to work night and day between the human and gargoyle crews, sped up the process. Already, the land had been cleared and the first stones were about to be laid.

In addition to their construction tasks, the gargoyles began extensive training with Robbie in preparation for the upcoming war. Robbie did not hide the fact that he enjoyed teaching the clan more than he enjoyed training his soldiers, feeling the gargoyles' intelligence and natural athleticism surpassed their human counterparts. Robbie showed the clan how to use unfamiliar human weapons, such as swords and crossbows, and many of the clan eagerly awaited the arrival of Kenneth's weapons shipment that was due in two month's time.

The hatchlings, under the supervision of their keepers, were enthusiastic helpers. They gathered shells by the basketfuls from the sandy beaches below Wyvern's steep cliffs to make lime mortar and retrieved needed tools for the builders. Malcolm often noted the olive green web-wing among the most eager to assist, especially when a new tool or device was in use. While some of the builders grew weary of the little green hatchling's relentless questions, Master Builder Conall encouraged the lad's thirst for knowledge and patiently answered question after question until the grizzled builder retired to bed.

A commotion by the tree line caught Malcolm's attention. The first wagon carrying stone rumbled into sight, pulled by two strong horses. Malcolm made a personal note to write Kenneth for larger wagons and more horses. He knew these small carts would not be enough to haul the stone required to keep the gargoyles working through the night. The previous night, Conall and Malcolm had explained the type of stone needed to the adult members of the clan.

A wiry, dull tan, beaked male with a mane of wild white hair, whose physical features reminded Malcolm of a certain crimson hatchling, instantly came to their rescue. "There's an entire field filled with that rock not far from our hill. I've hunted there many times and know the stone is plentiful. I can guide your men and be home before dawn." He volunteered in a husky voice.

Conall eagerly followed the tan scout by horseback to map the route. Once he returned, he had assembled a small team of men with horses and wagons to clear the path and bring back the first fruits of their labor.

The sun dipped below the horizon as Malcolm completed his rounds on Wyvern Hill. He couldn't keep the small smile from his lips as he heard the echoes of roars and crackling of stone skin from the caverns above, sounds he had grown too accustomed to in his short time with the clan. After the clan arrived in the work area and greeted the men, the regal lavender apprentice approached the young prince. "My siblings and I are ready for your commands."

"The quarry carts recently returned with the first load of stone. Conall assigned men to unload the carts and prepare for another trip. In the meantime, our cooks have prepared a fine meal to break your fast. Let us feast before you work." Malcolm replied, feeling the shared excitement for the group to begin their construction. If the men and gargoyles continued their rapid pace, they could begin the building of the fortress inside the defensive walls before summertime. Malcolm had high hopes that feat could be accomplished.

"A meal is certainly appealing, and the aromas from the fires are too tempting to resist." The lavender gargoyle agreed with a wry smile. "I shall find the master builder after we eat."

As the lavender male gathered with his siblings around the fire pits, Malcolm also walked to the fires. The tan leader motioned him to his side. "Good evenin', young prince."

"Good evening, Leader." Malcolm replied. "I trust our cooks prepared a meal worthy of your clan?"

"Ye certainly didnae need to trouble yerselves. My clan is perfectly capable of huntin' fer our own." The leader spoke obstinately, but Malcolm ignored the chastising tone. He had learned the leader's pride often shrouded his true feelings and inherently knew the gargoyle appreciated the meal. The leader held a large shank of meat in his hand, courtesy of the head cook.

The aquamarine second-in-command held up a half-eaten biscuit, fresh from the stone ovens built around the fire pits. "Your fare is strange to us, but wonderful." She smiled her motherly smile and Malcolm grinned back at her.

"I am pleased you enjoy it. These foods are nothing compared to what our cooks will prepare once we have a full kitchen. Your clan shall eat the finest of dishes."

The old leader crossed his arms over his chest. "Ach, I don' want my clan t' become complacent. We will still provide fer ourselves."

"Our clans shall provide for each other." Malcolm suggested. His builders had limited time during construction and hunting was one more task that took valuable time and energy. "Your clan will hunt and my people will prepare the meat to your liking."

The tan leader and his love exchanged a silent conversation with their eyes, something Malcolm was becoming accustomed to, though he still did not understand how they could converse with only a glance. "Perhaps somethin' can be arranged." The leader responded slowly, still gazing at his second.

The aquamarine female directed her attention to Malcolm. "The first stones will be laid tonight?"

He couldn't keep the bright smile from his face. "Everything is falling into place. Conall selected the perimeters of the wall and the men returned with the first cartload of stone. All we need now is the strength of your warriors."

The tan leader nodded. "Seems a proper task, right enough. I'll assign them right away."

The second nodded in agreement. "Aye, my love, and I'll ask some of our clan to gather more shells with the hatchlings."

"A grand suggestion, my love." The two gazed at each other so lovingly, Malcolm felt an intruder. He cleared his throat. "Thank you, Leader and Second. I shall report to Conall that members of your clan have been assigned their duties." He took his leave with a quick but courteous bow of his head and allowed the two to continue their private moment.

After breakfast, Malcolm walked to the paddocks to check on the horses. Along the way, he spotted the crimson beaked rookery mother and her copper-skinned rookery sister. A small cluster of hatchlings chased one another near their mothers, full of energy after enjoying their first human-made feast. He waved to the two mothers. They returned the friendly gesture before they focused their attentions on their lively charges.

As Malcolm completed his tasks with the horses, he heard a suspicious commotion from the cattle pen. As he investigated, he saw the aquamarine male, the olive green web-wing, and the aqua female hatchlings huddled inconspicuously along the fence, captivated by something inside the pen. They whispered conspiratorily to each other and giggled into their hands to muffle their laughter. Malcolm saw a chance to test their awareness, and crept silently behind them. He was nearly upon them before he realized they were too mesmerized by something inside the cattle pen. Following their gaze, he saw their crimson beaked brother inside the pen, attempting to ride a cow. The hatchling sat upon a brown heifer and impatiently nudged the cow's sides with his taloned feet, his hands firmly placed on his hips and a deep frown upon his beak as the cow lazily chewed her cud.

Forgetting his game of stealth, Malcolm gasped. "What is he doing in there?"

The three jumped and turned in unison, each with a wide-eyed expression that combined guilt, surprise, and fear. Mimicking the gargoyle adults when they admonished the young ones, Malcolm crossed his arms over his chest and waited for their explanation with as stern a frown as he could muster.

"Our brother is riding one of your fat horses?" The aqua female looked up at him uncertainly, as though not convinced she provided the correct answer. Her eyes darted to her beaked brother, who wandered back to his siblings with his shoulders hunched and his eyes focused on Malcolm sheepishly. The crimson hatchling climbed over the pen and stood beside his rookery sister, ready for his consequences. The two exchanged a brief smile of triumph, but were quick to return to their innocent appearances.

"Are you going to tell our rookery mothers?" The aquamarine male shrank back fearfully, cocooning his wings around him in a protective shield.

Malcolm managed to refrain from laughing at the expense of their naiveté. He quickly reminded himself that most of the gargoyles, especially the hatchlings, had never seen domesticated animals. Before he could answer, the olive green male piped up with his usual barrage of questions and well-made observations. "Why are these horses fat and slow? The horses you ride are much faster. These are nothing like the other horses."

"Because they are nay horses, lad, an' ye cannae ride them." Robbie said as he strode up behind Malcolm. "Those are cows, an' there's only one bit of fun t' have wit' a cow."

Using their silent language to communicate, the four hatchlings exchanged suspicious glances with each other until the crimson male acquiesced with a skeptical nod. They faced Malcolm and Robbie curiously. Malcolm smiled mysteriously, though he knew what Robbie was about to do. Robbie had shown him this bit of absurd fun when he had been a child. The four stared fixated as Robbie climbed the pen fence and crept behind a sleeping cow. Robbie peeked over his shoulder to ensure he had the hatchlings' full attention before he squatted down, put his shoulder into the cow's side, and gave the unsuspecting beast a forceful shove. The cow fell to the side with a surprised utterance.

The four hatchlings stared incredulously at the brawny man before they burst out laughing. Robbie returned to them with a wide grin. "That, young ones, is cow tippin' an' is the only fun t' have wit' a cow."

"Now you must return to your rookery mothers before they worry over your absence." Malcolm told them.

As the four scampered away, the two men chuckled. "Ridin' a cow!" Robbie crowed heartily. "If I hadna' seen it wit' my own eyes, I wouldna' have believed it."

"Our young friends have curiosity to match their bravery, a combination that will surely help them find trouble." Malcolm watched the four rejoin their rookery siblings and rookery mothers, who looked surprised that the four had reappeared on their own accord. "I only hope they keep their thirst for adventure." With one last amused glance at the hatchlings and their rookery mothers, the young prince retired to his tent for a few precious hours of sleep.

May 16th, 971

The springtime sun shone brightly overhead. Malcolm found himself in good spirits as he inspected the newest addition to the yet-to-be-completed wall. Just this afternoon, the men had finished the roof of the new barracks, providing ample sturdy shelter for the men as well as storage for weapons and tools.

The wall continued to proceed at astonishing rates. Master Builder Conall predicted that in three months' time, the wall would stretch the width of the outcropped cliffs and stand as tall as a man if they continued their rate of speed. Malcolm envisioned his future home rising out of the simplicity that had once been the gargoyles' Rookery and felt a stirring of pride.

Relations with the clan, while not always perfect, continued to flourish. The clan's hunting parties provided plenty of meat while gatherers foraged leafy greens and roots from the surrounding forests. The adults continued to vigilantly keep the hatchlings from falling underfoot with a few rare exceptions. In addition, the clan determined that the hatchlings were old enough to begin a more extensive training regimen. Every night, the young ones were led to the surrounding forests and meadows to hone their tracking and stealth, and were often in attendance to watch their older siblings spar, another warrior's skill they were rapidly developing.

Without actual weapons, Robbie could only teach the gargoyles a limited set of techniques to be used against Culen's soldiers. In return, the clan taught Robbie and his men useful survival skills, knowledge of the land, and effective fighting skills. Robbie awaited the arrival of the weapons with an anticipation that bordered on impatience. He wanted to train the clan as soon as possible. Malcolm felt the gargoyles did not necessarily need weapons to defeat Culen's army, but he dared not voice such opinions to his dear friend.

As Malcolm continued his surveillance, he was interrupted by a shout from the cliff side. Soon, Robbie jogged over. "The men located ships off the coast, my Liege. The flags suggest they were sent by yer brother." His face broke into a wide grin. "Finally, I can train my warriors wit' iron instead of sticks."

"Aye, my friend. The ships most certainly carry our weapons shipment, though I hope for word from my brother. I am not ashamed to admit I have missed my family these past two months." Malcolm turned to the sea, squinting until he could make out two longboats bobbing on the silvery waves. "Robert, round some men to unload the ships. My brother's generosity will replenish our supplies."

Robbie rewarded him with a respectful bow of his head before he marched to Conall and the builders. Malcolm turned his attention back to the sea, hoping Kenneth had also sent more good men to continue their progress with the castle and with the clan.

As the ships neared the beaches below, Malcolm decided he should be the first to greet the sailors. Before Robbie returned with the crew of men, Malcolm took a rocky path through the caverns that connected with the sandy beaches below the cliffs.

As Malcolm stepped off the path onto the beach, the ships pulled up to shoreline about two paces out and dropped anchor. The wooden plank was lowered over the dry strip of sand and men prepared to disembark. As the young prince watched, a small flaxen-haired child ran down the plank with an enthusiastic shout. "Uncle Malcolm!"

In near disbelief, Malcolm knelt down to scoop his four-year-old nephew into his arms. "Kenny! I can hardly believe my eyes!"

The young heir to the throne rewarded him with his signature wide grin. "We wanted to surprise you, Uncle!"

"You certainly accomplished that feat, Kenny." Malcolm hugged the small boy to his chest. "And I can think of no better surprise to receive." He looked up as nine-year-old Maol Chalvim and his beloved older brother Kenneth walked down the plank. Kenneth met his eyes and grinned. "Your messengers delivered such encouraging news about our new alliance, we felt a short expedition was necessary."

Malcolm embraced his brother and forced himself to choke back the emotion that balled in his throat. "I feel you read my mind, Kenneth. It warms my heart to see you." He reached out to embrace Maol, but the dark-haired child turned sullenly from his uncle and intently studied the small dagger attached to his belt. Malcolm disregarded his nephew's foul mood as he continued. "The fortress is nowhere near completion, but the clan has been an immense help to our cause. The heavens above could not have provided better allies."

"I am eager to meet them, though I have heard of their ferocity." Kenneth responded carefully. "I trust the boys will be safe."

Malcolm dismissed his brother's fears with a wave of his hand. "There is no safer place for the boys than with the clan. They have little ones of their own, Kenneth, barely older than Kenny. The hatchlings shall welcome new playmates."

Kenneth nodded with satisfaction. "Then I anticipate this tour, Malcolm. In the meantime, let me introduce you to a most valuable gentleman from our English ally's court. He provides no other name than Archmage, and he has offered his services during the building of our castle." He gestured to the ship's plank, where an anemic man dressed in white robes and clutching a fat parcel wrapped in cloth to his chest awaited his departure from the vessel. His flowing white beard and crown of long white hair made him appear to be quite elderly upon first glance, but as the man paraded down the plank, Malcolm realized the man was perhaps ten years Kenneth's elder.

"What services shall he provide?" Malcolm asked his brother with great interest. He had never encountered a wizard before, but he doubted sorcery would be of much use during the construction of a castle.

"He is well-versed in the written word, an attribute many of the builders lack. His superior knowledge will assist in the completion of the fortress. In addition, a bit of magic might be useful in the upcoming battle." Kenneth replied with a gleam in his eyes. He guided Malcolm to the Archmage. "Archmage, I present my younger brother, Malcolm. Without his aspirations, we would not have this foothold within our enemy's territory."

The Archmage's beady black eyes pored over Malcolm, taking in the smallest detail, before he bowed his head. "I have heard much about your successes upon this hill and have long desired to serve such a visionary. I pledge my undying loyalty to you, Prince Malcolm."

Malcolm had never received compliments from a scholar or a wizard before. Feeling quite important under the older man's lavish praise, he straightened his posture and puffed his chest with pride. "Thank you, Archmage. I trust your servitude shall be most rewarding for the both of us."

The balding man smiled wanly. "Of that I am certain. Now, if you will forgive an old man's compulsions, I have many rare artifacts that must be handled with the utmost care. I must supervise the men with my possessions." He marched away with a swish of his robes.

After the Archmage had distanced himself, Kenneth chuckled. "Well, now, little brother, it appears you have grown too big for your own britches."

Malcolm turned indignantly, but then laughed at his brother's good-natured ribbing. "It is not every day I hear such high praise, Kenneth. I shall try to contain my arrogance. However, I must confess I am quite proud of my achievements."

"As you should be, Malcolm. It was your idea that led to all this, and if your reports are halfway accurate, you have accomplished more in two months than any other man could in five." Kenneth replied earnestly. He clapped the boys on their shoulders and smiled at Malcolm. "Come! While the men unload the supplies, show us your new home."

The boys ran ahead to the entrance of the cavern path, Maol in the lead. At the entrance, little Kenny turned and waited for his uncles while Maol ventured up alone. Malcolm prepared to call to Maol back to his side, but Kenneth held up his hand to silence his brother. "Let him go, Malcolm. His laments about young Kenneth's future ascension to the throne have driven him to become melancholy as of late. I felt a change of scenery would quell his jealous spells, and perhaps training with Robbie might build his confidence as a future soldier of the king's army."

"I was not aware of Maol's disposition." Malcolm replied thoughtfully. He stole a glance at Kenny, who walked beside Kenneth and examined the illuminating moss along the cavern walls with fascination, seemingly oblivious to the importance of his future. The child looked up at his uncle and grinned. Malcolm returned his smile. "The hatchlings will also be fine companions for both boys."

As the family emerged from the cavern at the top of the cliff, Malcolm watched his brother Kenneth for his reaction to the wall's progress. He was not disappointed. Even from the cavern's entrance, it was clear the wall was far ahead of schedule. Kenneth took another step forward, as though standing closer to the wall would help him believe what his eyes beheld. "Malcolm, I owe you a sincere apology. I felt your reports were the exaggeration of youth, yet I see the fact behind your written words. Frankly, I feel you understated your men's progress."

Malcolm found he was unable to keep his promise of humility as he beamed with pride from his brother's praise. "My men and the gargoyles work night and day, Kenneth. Their collaboration is what you see before you."

Kenneth shook his head in good-natured disbelief. "If I did not see it with my own eyes, I would never believe it." He pulled little Kenny to his side and pointed to the wall. "Look there, lad. Your uncle has accomplished fine work and you should be proud."

Kenny, having been the prisoner of a ship for two days and nights, looked up at Malcolm with a smile, but his eyes were distracted. He stared in awe of the open spaces and grassy meadows offered by Wyvern Hill until his eyes landed on his cousin visiting with the workmen. He wiggled free of Kenneth's fatherly grasp and raced to Maol, who turned and accepted his younger cousin's presence with a barely a glance.

Kenneth laughed. "The lads are too young to understand the magnitude of your achievement, but know that I am indeed impressed, little brother."

"You shall be more impressed when the clan awakens, Kenneth." Malcolm promised. "They deserve to hear your praise." With that, Malcolm led his older brother through the wall and barracks. He introduced his brother to Conall and his builders, as well as the brothers guarding the rookery. As Kenneth inspected the wall, Robbie approached with a man whose drab brown monastery robes matched the watery brown of his bowl-cut hair. He sported a cloth knapsack around his shoulders and the simple gold cross around his neck reflected the late afternoon sun's fading light. Kenneth's face broke into a friendly smile. "Ah, Robert, I see you found Brother Matthew."

Robbie instantly dropped to one knee. "Tis grand t' see you, yer Majesty."

Kenneth chuckled and gestured for Robbie to rise. "Formalities are not necessary, Robert, especially when the crown is not yet mine." Robbie stood and Kenneth grasped his forearm. "It does my heart good to see you. Now, allow me to present Brother Matthew, a monk of the highest order. He offered to accompany us on our journey to Wyvern Hill."

Malcolm turned his attention to the monk, whom he had assumed was a younger man, but he noticed Brother Matthew's boyish face was lined with the first traces of age as he smiled serenely. "I have heard much about this place, Prince Malcolm. I imagined Wyvern Hill to be as rugged and mysterious as its inhabitants, yet I am taken by its calming beauty. One could truly find peace within such a residence." The tone of his voice reflected the faraway longing of one who had never quite belonged.

"I take it you are here to teach the word of God to the men?" With the sudden aspect of religion in their midst, Malcolm discovered he did not want the gargoyles to be forced to accept the ways of Christianity. Though the highly-civilized clan was respectful of the humans' beliefs and had shown interest on occasion, they remained true to their ways of life.

The monk's eyes, a startling clear blue on his plain face, filled with mirth. "I offer my services as a man of the cloth to all who hear His word, but I have no intention to convert the gargoyles. I seek to learn about them, as they have been a particular fascination of mine since I was a boy."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow in surprise. He had not expected such a response from a man of the Church. He reasoned Kenneth would never allow a fire-and-brimstone monk to enter Wyvern's sanctions and smiled warmly at Brother Matthew, already feeling a connection to the kindly monk. "And learn you shall, good Brother. The gargoyles have become great teachers to my men."

Brother Matthew nodded. "I am eager to meet them at sundown." He shifted the knapsack on his shoulders. "In the meantime, is there perhaps a private room I might use? The men unloaded my trunk from the ship, and I would prefer to have my Bible and teachings prepared before supper."

"We are limited in private quarters at the moment, but we offer lodging within the barracks. The handful of men inside will be sound asleep and will not be a bother. Robert will escort you."

"I thank you, Prince Malcolm." The monk dipped his head graciously before he was led away by Robbie.

Malcolm turned to Kenneth. "How do you manage to find such loyal men? There cannot be many in England who want to reside on a hill with gargoyles."

"Word has spread amongst my inner circles and we have gained much support. Brother Matthew came to me with a delegacy of churchmen who offered the Church's assistance in reclaiming Scotland. Once Brother Matthew learned where we intended to strike, he begged to join your court in Wyvern. I could hardly refuse a man of the cloth." Kenneth mused. "I think he will be a fine addition."

"I am certain he will be a valuable asset, Kenneth."

Kenneth gave a curt nod, and Malcolm watched his face become grim. "There is another important matter of which we must speak, Malcolm. As you well know, the kingdom of Strathclyde has been a thorn in Culen's side for years. He hoped to regain control of the region from Riderch, Strathclyde's newly-appointed lesser king who has dared to stand against Culen's tyranny. I received word that Culen has all but lost Strathclyde. Culen murdered Riderch's brother, and I will not detail the horrors bestowed upon his daughter. Riderch has vowed revenge and has offered his assistance to us. We would be foolish to ignore such a strategic advantage. If we can convince the gargoyles to join our march upon Strathclyde, victory will be ours."

"I had assumed Culen would bring the battle to Wyvern."

"We gain nothing if we wait for Culen's army at this hill." Kenneth's eyes hardened, signaling he had already created a formidable plan of attack and expected Malcolm to follow his every command. "We must gather our forces and take this opportunity, little brother. You have earned the gargoyles' trust. Convince them to join us at Strathclyde. "

Malcolm found himself in deep contemplation. "If I were to ask the gargoyles to leave their home, I must have more men willing to stay behind and protect the Rookery. The protection of the clan's children is the foundation of our alliance. I would not see them put at risk."

"Malcolm," Kenneth hesitated, and Malcolm knew his militaristic brother did not want to release more troops to guard an unfinished castle. "It will be difficult to assign more soldiers to this region when they are needed elsewhere. I have succeeded in dispatching many men to Wyvern, but now I need to concentrate on my army."

"Please, wait until you meet them before you rule out their protection. One gargoyle has the strength of five soldiers. If the clan agrees to join us at Strathclyde, you could spare a few more men."

Kenneth's mouth drew up into a stubborn line before he relented with a deep sigh. "Very well, Malcolm. I shall indulge you and meet them before I make my decision."

As the setting sun touched the horizon, Malcolm led Kenneth, Maol Chalvim, and Kenny into the cavern that housed the sleeping gargoyles. Inside their roost, the gargoyles lined the walls in frozen form, each in a pose more terrifying than the next. Even the hatchlings struck fierce poses that would frighten hardened men, though Malcolm often found humor in the contradiction between their fearsome stances and small statures.

The boys enthusiastically examined the statues, particularly Kenny. He raced between the sleeping sentinels, inspecting tails and wings as he ran. He paused only when he reached the hatchlings, who had clustered together with favorite rookery siblings. He reached his hand out to touch the beak of a certain adventurous hatchling.

"Take care, Kenny. He's only a little one, like you." Malcolm scooped his jovial nephew into his arms and playfully swung him away before the child could touch the hatchling. "We cannot risk their harm."

Kenny giggled with childish delight as Malcolm spun him, but his attention quickly refocused on the hatchlings. "Will they play with me, Uncle?"

"They are full of vigor and mischief, and welcome willing playmates with open arms." Malcolm assured his nephew. He turned to Maol, who had paused in his exploration of the gigantic adults and adolescents to weave curiously between the hatchlings. "They know many games, including ones for older playmates." He told the dark-haired child.

Maol shrugged indifferently, but not before Malcolm saw the glimmer of hope in his eyes, and knew an encounter with the hatchlings would be good for the boy. While Kenny made a convenient companion, the difference in age and size gave Maol the advantage of leader and inevitable champion in their games. Malcolm knew his brooding nephew needed playmates closer to his age, ones who would challenge his abilities and refuse to bend to his every whim. The energetic and independent hatchlings would meet those challenges without hesitation.

As Maol gazed pensively into the olive green web-wing's face, Malcolm heard the first crackle of stone skin breaking away. With Kenny on his hip, he clasped a hand on Maol's shoulder and respectfully backed away from the awakening clan. Maol looked up with a dark scowl, but Malcolm silenced his complaints with a stern glance. "They need plenty of legroom."

He and the boys returned to Kenneth. Together, the four watched mesmerized as stone gave way to flesh and the clan burst from their encasings with deafening roars that reverberated off the cavern walls. Kenny and Maol released small gasps as the clan stretched their limbs and unfurled their wings to full length like taut sails in the wind. Kenneth stood rendered speechless with his mouth slightly agape, and Malcolm smiled as he remembered how his first witnessing of the clan's awakening had caused him to react in the same manner.

As Malcolm expected, the tan leader and aquamarine second approached the family as the rest of the clan filed out of the cavern. "Good evenin', young prince, an' who be these fine men?" Leader asked as he warmly eyed Malcolm's family.

"Leader, Second, I am pleased to present my brother, Kenneth, and my nephews, Maol Chalvim and Kenneth." He rested a hand on each of the boys' shoulders.

"Please call me Kenny." Little Kenny piped up in his small, friendly voice. He stared in wonder at the tan leader. "What may I call you?"

The leader chuckled. "We don' need names, lad."

"Many call him Leader. You may call him such if you wish." The aquamarine second spoke through her motherly smile.

Kenny grinned at her, but his attention was soon diverted to the hatchlings. The youngest members of the clan were being led out of the cavern by their rookery mothers and fathers. The little ones peered over their shoulders at the human children, the realization that grown human men began their lives as small children evident on their faces. Malcolm was pleased the hatchlings seemed interested in his nephews. He scanned the gawking hatchlings for the inseparable trio of brothers and caught sight of the aquamarine male in the front of the group, leading the way to breakfast without his rookery brothers. Malcolm's eyes landed on each young one's face until he found the beaked crimson male, olive green web-wing, and aqua female trailing behind their rookery kin. They stopped their gait and examined Maol and Kenny with special interest, whispering excitedly to one another. Malcolm sensed they planned to approach his nephews, but their lovely copper-skinned rookery mother with the luminous eyes gently herded them out the entrance.

The aquamarine second watched after her clan's children with a bemused smile, then gestured to follow the clan outside with a sweep of her muscular arm. "Perhaps the lads care to join the hatchlings? They might spend the evening learning about one another." The boys looked hopefully at their uncle.

"An excellent suggestion." Malcolm agreed. He ushered his nephews to the entrance and outside to the unofficial courtyard, where the clan gathered for their first meal of the night. As they emerged from the cavern, the boys and Kenneth were greeted by a new wonder. The gargoyles and builders shared wooden benches around the tables the men had built for meal times, joking and trading tales as they ate. Brother Matthew had already found a place at a table of adolescents and seemed quite comfortable among the clan. While the blue-grey sentry spoke, Brother Matthew caught Malcolm's eye and nodded a pleasant greeting before he returned his attention to the gargoyle's tale.

After the family gathered their supper from the fire pits, they followed the leader and second to the hatchlings gathered around their beaked crimson rookery mother and copper-skinned rookery mother. As they neared, the hatchlings fell silent and stared at the newcomers. Maol shifted closer to his uncle and father while Kenny became uncharacteristically shy and took hold of Malcolm's hand. Malcolm watched as the little aqua female whispered something to her crimson brother. He listened intently with his eyes narrowed in thought, then nodded. The aqua female scooted closer to her pink rookery sister while the crimson lad moved closer to his olive green web-winged brother, providing a space on the wooden bench that Malcolm assumed was meant for his nephews. The two hatchlings sat in wait for the boys to join them. The crimson beaked female, sensing her charges' good intentions, stood up and approached Kenny and Maol. She rested her hands on her knees as she leaned to their eye level and studied them with motherly warmth. "Look, Sister. It appears we left two hatchlings behind." She joked to her copper-skinned companion.

The copper female rewarded her sister with a playful smile. "I always forget the wingless ones." She teased. Kenny giggled and she cast her friendly smile upon him. "Join us, young ones. There is plenty of room at our table."

Kenny turned to Maol for guidance while Maol looked to Kenneth for approval. Kenneth nodded his permission, then gave the two rookery mothers a look of gratitude. The copper-skinned female escorted the boys to the open seats between the aqua female and crimson male.

The two men followed the leader and his mate to the end of the table and located available seats on the bench beside the hatchlings, grateful they were still offered privacy to speak amongst themselves as the hatchlings and the human boys lapsed into crossfire questions about one another. Kenneth took a bite of cooked meat and swallowed before addressing the gargoyles. "Leader, Malcolm told me of the assistance your clan has provided in the building of this fortress. It is plain to see this alliance has inspired both our peoples to greater levels of achievement."

The tan leader nodded in agreement. "Aye, but wit'out yer craftsmen, none of this would be possible. My clan was very content in our Rookery, but this alliance has expanded our protectorate for th' good of us all."

"We have truly enjoyed the company of your men." The aquamarine second added. "It fulfills my heart's greatest desire to see my clan live among humans as honorable as the ones you sent to us."

"It has been a pleasure to live among such an honorable clan." Malcolm replied. The laughter of children caught his attention and he glanced at his nephews, who laughed with the hatchlings over some youthful tale. A faint smile played on his lips. "Since the passing of my mother, I have never felt so at home as I have in Wyvern." He admitted.

"You will always have a place in our clan, young prince." The aquamarine second responded warmly. She looked past Malcolm's shoulder and smiled before she continued. "You and Robbie have certainly proven yourselves to be trusted friends."

"I thank ye, Second." Robbie appeared beside the table and addressed Kenneth. "Yer Majesty, the men will begin trainin' shortly if ye care to inspect yer warriors' abilities."

"It is a spectacle you would be sorry to miss, Kenneth." Malcolm boasted to his older brother. "The men and gargoyles practice nightly in preparation for the upcoming battle. There are a number of gargoyle adolescents I especially wish to show you. Their skills are unmatched by any warrior I have known."

"If they are half as good as this food, I doubt I will be disappointed." Kenneth joked. He took another bite of cooked meat as Kenny and Maol approached.

"Father, we have been invited to join the hatchlings for a game of hide-and-go-seek. May we?" Maol asked with excitement shining in his dark brown eyes. Malcolm was pleased to see his nephew's foul disposition had lightened immensely. An outing with the hatchlings was exactly what the child needed.

"Please, Uncle?" Kenny's little voice echoed.

Kenneth glanced at the crimson beaked rookery mother. She nodded her consent. "My rookery sister and I often take the hatchlings to play in the meadows before their lessons. We find burning their excess energy helps their concentration. Two more heads will make little difference to us."

"Thank you for your generous offer." Kenneth told her. He turned to his son and clasped his hands on the dark-haired child's shoulders. "Maol, be good and watch over your cousin. Let no harm befall him."

Maol's face darkened momentarily, but then he nodded seriously as he put his hand proudly on his new dagger attached to his belt. "Of course, Father. He will be safe with me." To prove his point, he took Kenny's little hand and tugged the friendly blonde future king away from the adults. As the children ran off to play with the hatchlings, the adults headed to the training grounds.

As Malcolm, Robbie, and Kenneth approached the training grounds, the adolescent gargoyles and human soldiers were already in attendance, separated into smaller groups with favored comrades. An aqua male with wide horns that spiraled into his thick raven hair and wings split like a butterfly's, whom Malcolm recognized as the copper-skinned rookery mother's mate, took his place as head trainer of the group. Robbie, the tan leader, and his aquamarine second joined the aqua male.

Kenneth turned to Malcolm. "I know everything there is to know about the soldiers I sent you, but tell me all you have learned about our unusual allies. You have clearly developed a strong rapport with them."

Malcolm nodded. "Aye, I have, and I have begun to recognize individuals as more than skin color." Malcolm caught sight of his brother's confused expression and chuckled. "Since they lack names, it is easier to refer to the color of their skin and distinctive features. For instance, you have met Leader and Second, but not their lavender-skinned apprentice. He is as great a soldier as the Philistine giant who fought David. The aqua male before you is the adolescents' primary trainer. They call him 'Teacher', a rare title bestowed upon him, though all members of the clan participate in training the generations of youth. Teacher is mated to the copper-skinned rookery mother who watches over Kenny and Maol."

Kenneth nodded thoughtfully. "The golden-haired one? There is an undeniable beauty to her features, features I noticed on one of the hatchlings, though the child's coloring is clearly her father's. I also noted the similarities between the leader, his mate, and another of the hatchlings, though they showed no favoritism to him."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow. He knew he shouldn't have been surprised by his brother's keen observations. Kenneth hadn't ruled as Duff's militant right hand without first learning about those around him, friend or foe. "Well noted, Brother. Many of the hatchlings resemble one parent, but inherit the coloring and certain features of the other parent. While the adults certainly do not lack parental instincts, it is not important to know which child is theirs. The hatchlings belong to the entire clan and are raised communally."

"A strange custom." Kenneth commented. His attention focused on the training youth. "While that may be useful information, tell me about the older ones. They appear hard warriors. What are their abilities?"

Before Malcolm could respond, a piercing battle cry alerted all members of the clan. The tan beaked male with the wild white mane glided to the training grounds. Malcolm and Kenneth hurried over as the tan male alighted in front of his leader. "A party approaches from the north. They are not large in number, perhaps fifty men on horseback, but they appear ready for battle."

Kenneth stepped forward. "I am not expecting reinforcements. It can only be Culen's men."

"Culen must have received word about our plans for this hill. He acted quickly if his men are this close." Malcolm added, successfully keeping the nervousness from his voice. He had not expected a battle this soon and worried the men had not received enough training. Fear flowed like ice through Malcolm's veins. Unable to voice commands to the men, Malcolm turned to Kenneth for guidance.

Kenneth quickly became the militant champion that Malcolm knew all too well. "We must send the children to safety. If only the wall was completed, we could harbor them within its protection."

"The young ones will be safe in the rookery, right enough. There are only fifty men, after all." The tan leader responded dryly. Warriors, both human and gargoyle, gathered around the leaders and awaited orders.

Kenneth nodded gratefully before he addressed the men. "Our only chance is to close the gap in the unfinished wall. If we prevent the raiders' entrance, the night will be won quickly." He turned to the tan leader. "Can we depend upon your warriors to flank the enemy? If we attack between two fronts, their low numbers will be their undoing."

"Aye, my warriors are skilled in wing attack. We'll make short work of them."

Robbie turned to one of his sergeants. "Take our men an' secure th' wall. Let's make sure our guests are greeted properly." He said, his thin lips curved into a sly grin beneath his bushy mustache.

The tan leader shared Robbie's grin. "If ye desire a welcome party, allow my clan t' give a greeting they will nay forget." He turned to the muscular lavender youth. "Lad, take yer hardiest siblings an' help th' humans close the gap." He then turned to his mate. "Choose yer warriors for aerial assault, my love. The remainder of th' clan joins me."

She selected a large handful of the adolescents, including the sky blue female with hair like wild flames and a striking copper-skinned female with golden curls and the split wings of a butterfly. She then selected members from the other generations to fight alongside her. They took to the air, spiraling high above the hill in wait.

The crimson-skinned and copper-skinned rookery mothers led their charges to the safety of the rookery and herded the hatchlings, Maol, and Kenny inside. Elderly gargoyles, well beyond their fighting prime, joined the hatchlings inside the cavern. Malcolm knew the elderly gargoyles would help the rookery parents guard the rookery in case the clan failed.

Brother Matthew raced to Kenneth's side. "I heard news of the raid. How may I be of service?"

"You do not need to risk your life, good brother." Kenneth replied. "Please, take shelter with the children."

Brother Matthew shook his head. "I beg your forgiveness, but I refuse to hide away when I am needed. Although I may not be skilled with the sword, I intend to help however I am able."

Malcolm saw the determination in the monk's eyes and admired his bravery. Malcolm nodded. "Your assistance is greatly appreciated. Go to the storehouse and bring pikes and spears to the men."

"Of course, young prince." The monk raced away.

As Malcolm, Robbie, and Kenneth raced to join the men on the front line, the Archmage hurried to their side carrying a thick tome. "Your Highness, I offer my services to defend this magnificent hill. My magic shall keep the invaders at bay, but I must move to the wall for the utmost advantage."

"Your services are greatly appreciated, Archmage." Kenneth thanked the white-haired man, who found his desired location along the wall.

When the three men arrived at their destination, the tan leader was already issuing orders. Malcolm brought Kenneth beside the leader as Robbie ran to the far end of the wall gap. As the two men watched, the tan leader spread his gargoyles throughout the gap, filling in between the ranks of men. The gargoyles crouched low to the ground, blending into the ranks of men until even Malcolm failed to see all of them. In the distance, Malcolm heard the first sounds of horse hooves pounding the earth, a steady beating rhythm the gargoyles had detected long before their human counterparts. As the men strained to see the oncoming horsemen, Malcolm looked down the line and saw Brother Matthew with a dozen sailors. They provided pikes and spears to the men, then kept weapons for themselves and bravely crouched into position. Try as they might, Malcolm knew they would not be able to form a wall of spears and stop the horsemen. He refused to lose faith in his men, however, and prepared himself for battle.

He found he had no time for further contemplation as the first horsemen charged the unfinished wall with weapons drawn and fierce yells. The Wyvern men bravely stood their ground with pikes and spears lowered as the raiders advanced with confidence. Just as the men were about to ride over the skirmish line, the tan leader released a deafening battle cry. From the ground sprung dozens of gargoyles, led by the massive lavender male, and filled the night with their eerie chorus of roars.

The raiders faltered as their mounts shied and reared once the unexpected fearsome beasts rose from their vantage points. The gargoyles' eyes illuminated their faces as they charged, causing the raiders to cry out and the horses to buck wildly. As the raiders worked to gain control of their skittish animals, another set of bloodcurdling cries echoed from the skies. The aquamarine second swooped down with her band of aerial fighters. As they plucked men from their saddles, the ground attackers slashed at others with their talons, swiped men with their tails, and drug the frightened men from their beasts. The horses raced from the battle with shrill whinnies of fear.

As Malcolm watched in astonishment, the gargoyles made short work of the raiders. Kenneth, seeing their opportunity for a quick victory, raised his sword over his head and charged into the fray. The men charged behind, spears, pikes, and swords at the ready. Within moments, the skirmish was over. The few surviving raiders retreated, some dragging wounded comrades with them. Eight men remained on horseback and fled to the forest, including the leader. The leader turned and yelled futilely over his shoulder. "This is not over! You may have won this night, but once the King hears of your defiance, he will march upon your pathetic wall! Your demons from Hell will not be able to protect you from King Culen's armies!" With that, he ran into the dense woods surrounding Wyvern Hill and disappeared from sight.

"Do we follow?" The lavender male asked his leader.

The leader shook his head. "We stay an' defend the Rookery, lad. My love can handle their cowardly retreat." As he spoke, Malcolm gazed up to the sky. Five gargoyles from the aerial assault, the aquamarine second, the sky blue female with fiery hair, the copper-skinned female with butterfly wings, the tan beaked male, and a younger tan beaked male, swooped after the retreating horsemen. Only two men won their escape into the forest as the five descended upon them.

After the raiders fled, the five returned to their clan. The sky blue female with the fiery mane had no more than touched the ground when she ran to her lavender brother and curled herself into his broad chest. As the two embraced, Malcolm heard him murmur in his deep, rumbling voice. "Well fought, my Angel of the Night."

"Thank you, my love." She purred to him. They stroked each other's hair lovingly.

Kenneth chuckled beside Malcolm before he turned to the tan leader. "My friend, I doubted your clan's ability, but you were more than able to defeat those raiders without our aid. I have never seen such a display of bravery or true warrior skill on the battlefield."

The tan leader eyed Kenneth, and though Malcolm knew the leader appreciated the Kenneth's words, he answered humbly. "We can no more stop protectin' the Rookery than breathin' the air."

Kenneth nodded. "If I could provide more men to defend your Rookery, how many warriors could you provide in a march against Culen?"

The tan leader, who Malcolm knew as nobody's fool, raised a brow ridge speculatively. "An' just where would we march?"

"To Strathclyde, my friend. A lesser king rebels against Culen for abominations done to his family. Culen has no choice but to move his armies to Strathclyde to suppress the rebellious forces. We must move in support of this man, who has as much reason to overthrow Culen as my family does. This will be our best chance to defeat Culen before he marches upon Wyvern. I shall return to England to gather enforcements so we may be prepared to march come autumn."

The aquamarine second clasped her love's arm. He nodded at her before he crossed his arms and faced Kenneth. "Aye, it's wise t' find all possible advantages before the enemy finds his, but I cannae send all my warriors away. Even wit' yer men's assistance, I still need to leave some of my warriors behind to defend th' rookery."

"I understand, but know that I intend to leave two men for every one gargoyle you can provide. We need to enforce our numbers with your clan's strength, as each of your warriors fights with the strength of five men."

Malcolm seized his opportunity to fulfill his promise to the clan. "Kenneth, I feel we need two hundred men stationed in Wyvern Hill. The rookery must be well-guarded and this number would allow construction to continue while other men fight in your army. I would request more, but I know your need for soldiers is great."

Kenneth furrowed a brow in thought, then nodded. "I agree, Malcolm. Two hundred would be an appropriate number for defense of this hill. However, I cannot raise that number, as I also need men to back my army. I want to show Culen exactly how many true Thanes oppose his tyranny."

The tan leader leaned back in thought. The aquamarine second stood close to her mate and lowered her voice. "My love, with that many protecting our rookery, we could afford to send our warriors. Some of our kin will not leave the hatchlings, but they have the option to stay or fight."

"Aye, I force no one to fight, however, I suspect many will choose battle." The leader turned to the men and raised his voice. "It's agreed then. Send two hundred of yer men, an' in turn, my clan will fight beside ye at Strathclyde."

"I can see this alliance will be beneficial to us all." Kenneth extended his hand and the two leaders clasped forearms.


End file.
