The Shadowed Throne (7 page)

Aenae was already beside her, but neither of them said a thing. They stood together, both breathing hard, and looked down on the intruder.

Ravana lay up against the wall where he had fallen, his body twisted so far that it looked like two half bodies put together the wrong way around. Aenae's talons had gone so deep that only his spine was left to hold him together.

“The half-breed's favourite guard,” Saeddryn mumbled. “He wanted . . .”

“He hurt you,” Aenae said. “You are bleeding.”

Her hand went to her forehead. It came away sticky. “Just my hair. Thankye, Aenae.”

It was a perfunctory thanks, but neither of them expected anything else.

“So the half-breed has made her move,” said Aenae.

His look toward Saeddryn was expectant. She nodded with difficulty. “The time's come t'do things yer own way now, Aenae. Go an' get yer harness, an' I'll get dressed.”

He waited until she had barricaded the door, then disappeared into his nest. When he returned with his harness dangling from his beak, Saeddryn had put on a plain set of clothes—leather leggings and a warm tunic lined with fur. She took some money and a few pieces of jewellery from a drawer and stuffed them into her pocket.

Finally, she went to the fireplace and lifted down a sickle. It was weathered, and the tip had been broken off, but the blade was still sharp.

“Oh by the holy Night God's eye, how I've missed ye,” Saeddryn murmured, and tucked it into her belt.

Aenae had been waiting impatiently. Saeddryn hurried toward him and put his harness on.

“Will your mate be safe?” he asked.

“I warned him about what could happen,” said Saeddryn. “He knows what t'do when the time's right, an' I trust him t'do it. Now, let's go.”

She climbed onto her partner's back. Aenae snorted aggressively and walked off through his nest. He paused to take a drink from the trough, then charged out onto the balcony. Without slowing, he launched himself from the edge and into the sky.

Saeddryn, hanging on tightly, felt something she hadn't expected to feel and hadn't felt in a long time: excitement. She had grown tired and angry, after too many years of doing nothing but talk and look after the Temple. Now the Temple was gone, and her time spent in Malvern, playing the game of politics, was over. Now it was time to play a new game, one she had played in her youth and never realised how much she had missed.

War.

I
nva brought Laela the news next morning, before she had even eaten. She had already noticed Ravana's absence, and she sat in stunned silence as Inva told her, quickly and tersely, what had happened.

“Ravana has been found in the High Priestess' room. He is dead.”

Laela's throat tightened. “How?”

“By griffin. Nobody doubts that.”

“Aenae,” Oeka hissed.

“Why was he in there?” said Laela.

“To assassinate the High Priestess.” Inva said it without any hint that she was guessing.

Laela swore. “Are yeh sure?”

“There was a dagger by his hand,” said Inva. “And I knew that he would try already.”

“How? Why? I never told him to do it.”

“No, but it was his duty to protect you, my lady. His kind are trained from birth to do all in their power to defend their master—even if that means to kill someone they believe is a threat.”

“What?”
Laela yelled. “How in the gods' names am I gonna run this place if people who're meant to be workin' for me go an' do whatever they want? I never told him to do nothin'!”

Inva flinched. “But you did give him permission, my lady. Yesterday, he asked for your leave to do whatever he felt was necessary to protect you. He took you at your word.”

Laela twined her hair around her fingers and wrenched at it. “Fine,” she growled. “What else happened? Is Saeddryn dead?”

“No. The High Priestess and her partner are both gone from the city.”

Laela snatched up a vase and hurled it at the wall. Before the pieces had finished falling, she lifted her face to the ceiling and screamed. It was a loud, indecipherable bellow of pure fury. Oeka stood up and added her own voice, but not even she could drown out the Queen's rage.

Inva backed away, almost crouching in fright.

The sound took a long time to die away.

Shoulders heaving, Laela pointed at Inva. “Go find Iorwerth. Bring him, an' Garnoc, an' everyone else what knows fightin'. Send 'em to the council chamber, an' don't let them stop to pack. But before that, go an' tell the guards to go arrest Lord Torc. Lock him up an' don't let him out of anyone's sight. Any man what lets him get away loses his manhood.
Move!
”

Inva nodded once and ran out.

Laela sat down and massaged her temples. “Burn in Gryphus' fires, Ravana. An' may Saeddryn go with yeh.”

Oeka didn't blink. “What shall you tell the council?”

“I'm gonna tell 'em the truth. It's war.”

“And Saeddryn?”

“She's dead. I'm puttin' out an order. Anyone meets her an' doesn't kill her is a traitor.”

“Can you guess where she has gone?” said Oeka.

“Gone to find her brood, that's where,” said Laela. “She must've been plannin' this from day one. Now she thinks I've made a move, she's gonna do what she did before. Rebel.”

“She will die for it,” said Oeka. “I shall watch her die with pleasure, and more so if I am the one to have made that death.”

“I didn't want this t'happen,” Laela moaned. “Gods damn it all.”

“We shall win,” said Oeka.

Laela gave her a look. “That so?”

“Yes,” the little griffin said firmly. “We shall win because I am with you, and I shall never be defeated.”

“That's what I wanted to hear, right enough.” Laela stood up. “C'mon. Time to do it your way, Oeka.”

“W
ar?” Lord Iorwerth looked distressed.

Laela nodded, unsmiling.

“But surely—I can understand why the High Priestess fled. She must have thought ye wanted her dead, and no wonder. But that doesn't mean—”

“It does,” Laela interrupted. “Listen, all of yeh. Saeddryn's wanted my throne for years. Why did yeh think King Arenadd left? She was plottin' against him. He already knew. That's why he named me his heir; to be ready when the time came.”

“But why did he run?” Garnoc demanded. “He could've squashed her like a fly.”

“Because he knew if he stayed an' fought her, it'd mean war. He didn't want to fight his own people, Garnoc. He told me, ‘I built this Kingdom, an' I'm damned if I'll help tear it apart.' I left her alone for the same reason—thought I could negotiate. I needed her on my side, an' I thought if she knew I could arrest her if I wanted, she'd do everythin' to make me happy. I was wrong, an' now Ravana's forced my hand. She wants me gone the way she wanted my father gone, an' if it comes to war, then so be it. I'll rise to that.”

“She's right,” said Iorwerth. “Saeddryn never thought Queen Laela had the right to rule, an' she'll fight to change it. We all know what she's like.”

“She always resented King Arenadd,” Garnoc muttered.

“And loved him,” said Iorwerth.

There was an awkward silence.

“Loved him?” said Laela. “What d'yeh mean? I never saw her smile at him once.”

“He was meant to marry her,” said Iorwerth. “Not many people know that, only some of the old guard. Her mother always told her never to marry any man except a Taranisäii. When Arenadd came, she expected to marry him. But he refused her, see? Turned her down for this other woman who came with him.”

“Skade.”

“I knew
her
,” said Iorwerth. “Dangerous woman. Had a face like a hatchet. Nobody really knew where she came from. Acted like she hated everyone.”

“Except the King,” said Garnoc. “He was the only one she was kind to.”

“Some say he never loved anyone but her,” said Iorwerth. “After she died, he was never the same.”

“But Saeddryn never forgave him,” said Garnoc. “She never stopped believin' it was her right t'be his Queen even though she'd married Torc by then. Where's Torc, anyway?”

“I sent guards to pick him up,” said Laela. “He should be locked up by now.”

“Unless he's left too,” said Iorwerth. “I wouldn't be surprised.”

“Garnoc, go an' find out,” said Laela. “Guard him yerself if he's in the cells. Iorwerth—stay here.”

Garnoc left smartly.

“Now then,” Laela said, to Iorwerth. “Time to start makin' plans.”

A hiss broke into the conversation, and a griffin rose. Kaanee, Iorwerth's partner, hulking and battle-scarred.

“Now is the time to fight,” he rumbled. “The traitor should be afraid that I am here in Malvern by your side.”

Laela bowed to him. “I know everythin' yeh did in the war, Kaanee. The King told me. He said once that he never would've won if it hadn't been for you.” In fact, Arenadd had said no such thing, but that was beside the point.

Kaanee held his head high. “The Mighty Skandar's human was most wise. Do not be afraid, Queen. I shall win your war as well.”

Oeka puffed up. “
I
shall win, Kaanee. Do not forget who is the most powerful griffin in Malvern.”

Laela cringed, expecting an attack.

Kaanee, however, only chirped in amusement. “You are young, little griffin, and have discovered your gift too early. Arrogance does not win wars, but be assured that if it did, you would be our champion.”

Oeka bristled. “You may be old, but you have not yet learnt all you should know. I shall teach you.”

Kaanee faltered under the mental blow, but he didn't back down or strike back. “You are powerful in magic, but weak in body,” he rasped. “And the more you use your power, the more you shall be weakened. Have you thought of what would happen if you attacked one in front while another was behind and another to the side? You would die, and fast. Can your all-powerful gift strike more than one enemy at once?”

Oeka looked away. “Soon I shall have that strength.”

“And what shall you do, then, little one? Magic is not the only weapon a griffin possesses. Do you know where to strike to break another griffin's neck? When an enemy holds you by the leg, how shall you break free?”

Oeka said nothing.

Kaanee sat on his haunches, satisfied. “So you see that you do not know everything, Mighty Oeka.”

Silence. It lasted so long that Laela was about to start talking to Iorwerth again, but then Oeka broke it.

“You are right, Kaanee,” she said. “I know less of fighting than you. Therefore, I command you to teach me.”

Kaanee's wing twitched. He looked honestly surprised. “If I am not too old and weak, perhaps I could teach the all-powerful Oeka.”

“Teach,” Oeka said. “We shall begin at once, while our humans plan.”

“That's a great idea,” said Laela.

Both griffins ignored her. Without waiting to say anything to their partners, they left the council chamber together.

“That was unexpected,” Iorwerth said.

“I'll say!” said Laela. “Never saw Oeka go all humble like that before in my life. Humble for her, anyway. That's the closest yeh gonna get. Now, let's get to work.”

W
hile Laela and Iorwerth were in the midst of their discussion, Garnoc came hurrying back.

“Lord Torc's escaped, milady.”

Iorwerth groaned.

“Escaped how?” said Laela.

“He was gone when they went to get him, milady. Someone must've tipped him off. The warrant's been put out, an' I've got guards searching the city.”

“Didn't expect anythin' else,” Laela sighed. “He ain't stupid.”

“I don't reckon he had anything to do with it anyway,” Garnoc added. “Him and Saeddryn were barely speakin' any more, an' he was far too loyal to the King.”

“Yeah, loyal enough to think I killed him,” said Laela. “Bring him in, Garnoc. Even if he ain't in on it, he's the hostage we need.” She nodded to Iorwerth. “We're done for now. Go an' give the orders. An' find Kaanee, for gods' sakes. Send a message the moment there's news.”

They parted quickly and went to work.

Laela's first priority was a simple one: send out griffiners to every town and city in Tara, with orders to intercept Saeddryn. Her offspring had to be in one of those cities, and if she wasn't going to join them, they at least should be arrested.

But Laela wasn't really expecting Saeddryn to head for the cities. Her real destination was far more obvious than that. The High Priestess had led a rebellion before, and now that she was about to do it again, there was only one place she would feel safe to begin.

The Throne.

Kaanee was her first choice to fly there. Just Kaanee, and a second griffin to help. Iorwerth could stay behind. She needed his help, and Kaanee would fly much faster without him. Of all the griffins in Malvern, Kaanee was the strongest who was loyal to her. Other than Oeka, of course.

As she strode up the ramps toward her audience chamber, Laela found herself feeling energised in a way she hadn't been in a long time. Her father had once told her that he was someone made for action, and now she began to think that she might be the same. Politics took too much talking and too many lies. Laela had never been much good at either. But when it came to acting fast and aggressively—that was when she felt alive.

Being extremely angry helped.

Her audience chamber was empty, aside from a pair of guards at the entrance and Inva, who was busy cleaning a stain off the floor.

“I got servants to do that, yeh know,” Laela said on her way past.

“I am your servant,” Inva said, without looking up.

Laela shrugged and pushed the door to Arenadd's bedroom open. Inside, it was just how he had left it, down to the unused bed and the faint smell of wine in the air.

A lump ached in her throat. She wasn't sure if it was grief, or fear. This was the place where she had first met her father—or at least the place where she had first seen his face. She remembered that night clearer than anything else in her life. The sheer terror was clearest. That moment when her new friend had uncovered his face, and she had seen the signs. The long scar under the eye. The crippled fingers. All the marks of a man who had been killed a hundred times over but refused to die.

She shuddered and opened the wardrobe. She almost laughed when she saw the contents: at least a dozen black robes of different designs, some plain, some decorated with embroidery or lined with fur. There were no other clothes in there, other than a few pairs of boots and some folded trousers.

She didn't know why she could have expected to find anything else. Her father had never worn a single garment that wasn't a robe. He was famous for it.

Laela flicked through the robes, still fighting back laughter. They were all beautifully clean and well made, and though they were obviously inspired by the uniform of a slave, they'd been tailored as elaborately as the finest of noble outfits. King Arenadd might have been cold-hearted and bloodthirsty, but he'd always been very meticulous about his appearance.

Laela stopped abruptly and flicked back to the last robe she'd looked at. She frowned and lifted it out.

“What the—?”

While the others were pristine, this one was practically in rags. One sleeve had been torn off at the shoulder, and there were holes big enough to put her hand through. In many places, the thick wool was stiff with something that might have been mud—but she had a horrible feeling that it wasn't.

“Why in the world did he keep this one?” she said aloud. “It ain't even clean.”

She shrugged and put it away. There were enough nasty things in her father's wardrobe already, so to speak, without looking for more.

Remembering her original purpose, she sought out one of the thicker robes, which had a fur-lined hood, and put it on over her gown. It was cold outside. That, and she had a point to make.

Laela closed the wardrobe and went to the bed. On the wall behind it, the sickle hung. She lifted it down carefully and felt the blade.