The Griffin's Flight (58 page)

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Authors: K.J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's Flight
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“I listened to what my tutors said; I believed everything they told me about my race. But I knew I was more than just a savage; I was intelligent, educated. I could rise above my birth, become something special.” He looked at them intensely. “I want you to understand that. All of you. I was
ashamed
. Truly ashamed. I was at war with my own blood, my own race, my own self. My father never forgave me for it. And yet he never stopped loving me, and he never stopped hoping that one day I would understand the things he was always trying to make me see. And today, I did see.” Arenadd spread his hands, holding them out palm up. “And it was you that I saw,” he said. “All of you. Here, today, the men in this hall showed me the truth. You showed me why I should never be ashamed; you taught me that I should be proud. All my life people have spat at me and cursed me behind my back because I was a Northerner. But you never did. You made me be proud; you made me feel that I was blessed, by these eyes, this hair, this robe, this pale skin. Even though you were born into slavery, you had the courage and the strength to do what I asked of you. You showed me what true men of Tara can do. And even though my father died today, fighting beside you, I know he would have been happy to know that I know. And for that”—he bowed low—“I thank you.”
There was silence once Arenadd stopped speaking. And then, without any warning, three figures rose from the table.
Prydwen, Dafydd and Garnoc. The three Northerners looked at Arenadd, then at each other, and then Prydwen lifted his face to the ceiling and howled. It was a wolf howl—long, low and mournful—and after a few moments his two friends joined in.
Arenadd looked startled for a moment, but then he grinned. He cupped his hands around his mouth and howled back, and soon every man in the room was doing likewise. The howls filled the hall, mingled with whoops and cheers, and Skade looked on, puzzled.
Skandar looked up, his tail lashing in sudden alarm. The howling made him bristle, and he began to hiss. Finally, provoked, he opened his beak and screeched. The noise cut across the howling, and everyone started nervously, staring at him. Skandar glared back, and then, as suddenly as the howling had begun, everyone there started to laugh.
Skandar looked affronted and opened his beak a few times, apparently considering another screech, before he decided to ignore them.
The laughter died away, and Arenadd wiped his eyes. “Don’t mind him; I’m sure he just wanted to join in. Now,” he said, once the fresh laughter this provoked had ended, “I’ve been thinking alone this evening.” He looked seriously at them. “After a victory in battle, generals usually give their soldiers extra pay. But what use would money be to you? You’re slaves. You’ve spent your whole lives doing as you’re told and have been given nothing in return. But still, even slaves sometimes get rewards from their masters when they do well, don’t they? And I have a reward for you.” Arenadd pointed abruptly. “Garnoc. Come here, please.”
The burly slave rose from his seat. “Me, sir?”
“Yes, you. Come here.”
Garnoc did. “What d’ye want from me, sir?”
Arenadd looked him up and down in a calculating kind of way. “Do you trust me, Garnoc?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Good. And do you want the reward I have for you?”
“I … think so, sir.”
“Then I need you to do exactly as I say,” said Arenadd.
“I will, sir.”
Arenadd nodded. “Stand very still and raise your chin. Yes, like that. And stand absolutely still. Don’t move for any reason. Not even slightly. Understand?”
“Yes, sir,” said Garnoc.
“Good.” Arenadd reached into his robe and brought out an iron blacksmith’s hammer, holding it tightly in one hand. “Then you’ll have your reward now.”
Garnoc’s eyes widened. “Sir? What are you doing?”
A strange smile came over Arenadd’s face. “Join me, Garnoc,” he said, and swung the hammer as hard as he could.
26
 
Rogues
 
E
rian woke up the morning after the dance with a hangover and a feeling of utter misery. He dressed in semi-darkness, choosing his warmest clothes by the light of a single candle. The ceremonial costume was draped over the desk where he’d left it, but he tried not to look at it as he strapped Bloodpride onto his back and picked up his quiver, the un-strung bow packed inside with the arrows. With those, and a water bottle and some dried food in his pockets, he went into the next room.
Senneck was already awake and looked alert in the dawn light coming in from the balcony. “Good morning,” she said, sounding unusually cheerful. “I expected to have to wake you.”
Erian took her harness down from the wall. “I thought I’d sleep late after last night.”
“Ah, but the excitement woke you up, yes?” said Senneck.
“I suppose so,” Erian mumbled.
“Then put on my harness, and we shall go,” said Senneck. “Kerod will be impressed if we arrive before he does.”
“Of course.” Erian put it on, fumbling with the buckles, and the two of them walked onto the balcony, he climbed onto her back and she took off, flying into the early-morning chill. The sky was light grey, tinged with pink on the horizon, and very few other griffins were in the air. A few lights burned here and there in the windows of the Eyrie, and a strange hush lay over everything, as if the city itself were asleep.
Senneck landed at the top of Council’s Tower. Few traces of last night’s celebrations were left; the tables had been removed, along with the torches, and the only things left were a few scraps of food that had been dropped on the floor and, at the edge of the tower, a partially eaten sheep carcass.
Erian got off Senneck’s back and wandered around among the plants, trying to ignore his aching head. The hangover was only a mild one, but the memories of the previous night were more than enough to make up for that. His conversation with Elkin—both said and unsaid—replayed itself over and over again. The way she had looked at him, those green eyes so pale and sad, watching him. And after that, the sense he had got from her that he had somehow betrayed her, that she had asked him for something and he had failed to give it. He tried to tell himself it was nothing, that he had only imagined it, but the feeling refused to leave him alone.
He sighed and kicked the ground. And now he was going to have to spend the entire day with Kerod, the eternal grandfather trying to act like he was twenty. The prospect made him want to yell and throw something.
The sun began to rise, and Erian and Senneck were still alone.
Maybe he won’t come,
Erian thought hopefully.
Maybe he forgot or something
.
But this small ray of light was dashed a few moments later when Kerod and Eekrae arrived, landing close to Senneck.
Kerod came hurrying to meet him. “Good morning, my lord! I can’t believe you got here first!”
“Morning,” Erian mumbled.
“Old men like me need their rest, of course,” Kerod added. “Anyway, we’ll be able to get an early start, which is good. The place we’re headed for is a fair flight from here. Oh, you’re not bringing that, are you?”
Erian realised he was looking at the sword. “Yes.”
“I’d leave it here if I were you,” said Kerod. “It’s dead weight. No use for hunting. Not much use for anything, really, with that many jewels on it. Where’d you get it from?”
“It’s mine,” said Erian, a touch defensively. “I want to bring it.”
Kerod shrugged. “Well, if Senneck doesn’t mind. So,” he added, as they walked back toward the griffins, “how did you like the dance? I saw you were lucky enough to dance with Lady Elkin more than once. That must have been a thrill for you.”
That gave him a far more painful pang than he had expected. “Yes.”
“She always dances with the new lords after they’re inducted,” Kerod went on blithely, adjusting the quiver on his back. “It’s a ceremonial thing. Oh, Eekrae?”
The griffin had been watching him and now drew himself up. “Kerod and I were planning to go further northward,” Eekrae said, addressing Senneck. “There are uncharted lands that way, vast areas of forest and mountains. We can find game there: deer, wolves—even bears if we have good luck. The flight will be a long one, and if the weather turns foul we may have to spend a night camping. Does that suit you?”
Senneck inclined her head. “I think we shall enjoy ourselves very much. Erian and I have camped and hunted together before, and we would be more than glad to see this hunting ground.”
“Excellent,” said Eekrae. “Then we shall go now. Kerod, climb onto my back.”
The two griffiners mounted up, and they set out as the sun rose, flying over the city and beyond it on an early-morning gale.
The flight did indeed prove to be a long one. The two griffins stayed in the air for much of the morning, Senneck flying slightly behind Eekrae and riding on his slipstream. Erian, relatively protected from the cold by Senneck’s feathers and the warm furs he was wearing, quickly became lost in his own thoughts. Or rather, thought.
Elkin. As the time dragged by, she filled his mind. All he could think of was her: her laugh, her smile, her bright green eyes. Little moments flashed behind his eyes, instants frozen in time. Her hands gripping his as they twirled apart on the dance floor. The way her hair moved over her face when she leant forward to pick a strayberry out of the bowl. The scent of her skin and the way the light caught the gems on her gown. They tripped through his mind, as sharp and real as if they had happened only moments ago.
The thought of her made him feel strange. His stomach churned and his heart beat faster, but he didn’t know why. Was it fear or shame? Or happiness? He couldn’t tell.
He kept on thinking of their last conversation. All the time they had been speaking, he had wanted to reach out and touch her, or to tell her how beautiful she was and how being with her made him feel so frightened but so thrilled.
He knew that if he had done either of these things Senneck would have been furious. Kraal would almost certainly have been the same way. And Elkin—he didn’t know what she would have thought or said. But he knew she would have rejected him. She would
have
to reject him. She was a great lady, the Mistress of Malvern, the greatest Eyrie Mistress in Cymria, rich, well born, loved and respected. Whereas he was none of those things.
Erian clenched his fists and stared at them, filled with a terrible sense of helplessness and fury. He felt weak, clumsy, stupid, ugly. What could Elkin ever see in him? What could
any
woman see? He didn’t deserve her, or anyone.
I don’t have anything to offer,
he thought bitterly.
No money, no lands, no connections. I don’t even have looks or charm. I’m nothing and nobody
. The picture of Elkin smiled at him in his mind, and he shuddered and suddenly wanted to cry. Sweet, wonderful Elkin. He tried desperately to put her out of his mind, to think of something else, but he couldn’t. Everything seemed to revolve around her now.
He occupied himself with these miserable thoughts for most of the flight, while below them the inhabited lands of Malvern receded from view. They flew over hills and plains dotted with villages and the occasional town, while the sun rose higher overhead.
They stopped at midday to rest in a small copse, and Erian dismounted and limped around in a circle, cringing at the cramp in his legs.
Kerod sat down on a log and massaged his knees. “Argh. Damn these old joints. How are you doing, Erian?”
“Fine. How much further is it?”
“Not far at all from here,” said Kerod. “We’ll be there by mid-afternoon, I’d say. But first we should rest and have something to eat, so we’re ready.”
Erian slumped down at the base of a tree. “Are we heading for something in particular? Some kind of landmark?”
“Yes,” said Kerod. “There’s a stone circle just beyond the last village—Eitheinn, I believe it’s called. It’s one of the few left standing, and a good base to use for hunting. There’s forest all around it.”
Erian’s interest perked up at that. “A stone circle? How big is it?”
“Bigger than you’d expect,” said Kerod. “Wait until you see it; it’s damned impressive. Say what you like about the darkmen, but they definitely know how to move stones.”
The two of them shared a chuckle over that, and the mood lightened a little. Erian chewed at some dried meat while Senneck and Eekrae rested, and after a while they were ready to set out again.
The last part of the journey passed quickly enough. Erian watched the landscape now, knowing they were entering much wilder country. There were no more villages in sight, and the road they had been following had become narrow and winding, often passing through patches of thick forest. Even the River Snow, which ran almost parallel to it, looked wider and faster here.
They entered mountainous country, and the road petered out as it reached its destination: a tiny village nestled at the base of a large peak where the mountain range began. Eekrae flew on without pausing, passing between two mountains and entering a valley. He and Senneck flew the length of that and then flew on until the stone circle finally came into sight.

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