Latobius. Not to mention that of Lord Gwawl and others who flocked to Philip. How can the Seelie Court raise a banner of war without them?”
“The threat of Caer Llion grows, Lord Gerallt,” the Morrigan addressed the room. “You know this as well as I. Philip and John Lewis Hugo move new pieces upon the gwyddebwyll board, pieces never before seen. Lords once friends are gathering at Caer Llion, their might added to the Templar Knights for purposes not entirely clear. Lord Gerallt has the right of it though; this will not be the Seelie Court of old. Too many seats here are empty. We will therefore leverage the new pieces delivered to us, with hope of renewing the Seelie Court and countering the dark elements set in motion against us.”
“Queen, why did we not do this a decade ago? A century ago?” n’Hagr rumbled.
“Lord Finnbhennach,” the Morrigan gestured. “If you please.”
The horned man grabbed a canvas sack from behind his seat and withdrew a limp carcass as black as pitch. The dead creature was that of a lynx, tawny muscle beneath shiny fur—but all resemblance to the cat ended there. Where four paws should have been, large talons like those of a bird sprouted; instead of a whiskered feline face it had the head of an eagle, its beak sharp even in death. With a long wingspan of sable feathers dangling freely from its upper shoulder blades, Lord Finnbhennach tossed the halfbreed on the Cylch Table with disgust.
“Lords, take a long look,” the Morrigan requested.
“What is it?” Aife asked.
Lugh leaned forward. “Some aberration of nature?”
“Worse,” Richard said, breaking his silence. “Far worse.”
The table turned to the knight. He stared back, unperturbed by the attention.
“You have the right of it, Knight Richard McAllister,” the Queen said. “It is a new fey halfbreed, a cross between cliff eagles and highland cait sith.”
“Like small griffins?” Lord Gerallt said.
“Aye, griffins,” Lord Finnbhennach agreed. “With some dark art, Caer Llion has bred these foul creatures. Like rutting cats, they multiply at an astonishing rate. In the skies they are like swallows, blotting out even the noonday sky, deadly. I lost an entire herd of my best cattle to these.” The lord pounded the table with a massive fist in emphasis. “My best cattle! Meat and milk for some of you here. Nothing but strewn skeletons, picked clean.”
“I do not see the link between the halfbreed and Caer Llion,” Lord Eigion said, gesturing mildly with a webbed hand. “We know nothing at all.”
“We know Philip is involved,” Richard countered.
“How, knight?” the merrow asked.
Richard looked to the Morrigan who nodded back. “When Bran Ardall and I came through the portal into Dryvyd Wood, we were met by unwelcome company. The Usurper sent his advisor, witch, and houndmaster to capture us, but he also sent some kind of halfbreeds—part wolves, part human. You know how difficult it is for these types of creatures to mate naturally and survive—only a handful have ever done it. If Philip has managed to produce these demon wolves, this griffin is more than likely his as well.”
“I killed more than three dozen demon wolves freeing our guests,” the Queen admitted. “They did not die easily. They are unlike anything I have seen.”
“Then we should attack them now, end this threat,” Caswallawn maintained.
“There is more, Lord Caswallawn,” the Morrigan said.
“There is,” Lord Finnbhennach continued. “The Usurper is drawing all possible resources to Caer Llion—grain, fruit, weapons, men, other supplies. My scouts watch day and night, and every day there is more to fear.”
“The High King requested a marriage alliance with Mochdrev Reach, where my daughter Deirdre and I hail,” Lord Gerallt said. “Plantagenet is indeed drawing what might he can to Caer Llion. I can only assume it is to move against you all here.”
“Lord Gerallt and Lady Deirdre are here offering their support if we rally our own,” the Morrigan said, nodding to them. “There is goodness in human hearts yet.”
“Philip is planning something large,” Deirdre confirmed.
“What that something is, Lady Deirdre, we do not know,” the Morrigan added. “But if the lord of Caer Llion intends to escalate the assault on the Tuatha de Dannan, our survival might depend on gathering what remains of the Seelie Court and countering him as soon as possible.”
“Lord Fafnir and Lord Latobius will not support that,” Lugh said.
“Without their might, we risk annihilation,” the Queen agreed.
“If they did not heed the summons…?”
“They will,” the Morrigan said. “Sitting to my left is Richard McAllister, knight of