by K J Taylor
“No,” Arenadd said slowly, not looking away from her. “I don’t . . . do I?”
Hyrenna met his gaze for a few moments and then looked away. “I will not go. I will not leave my young. They are not ready to care for themselves.”
“No,” said Arenadd. “But I can look after them.”
Without any warning, Hyrenna started up. “You!” she hissed. “You, a human, care for my chicks?”
Arenadd forced himself not to back away. “Skandar could protect them, and I could bring them food. After all”—he was careful to keep any trace of sarcasm out of his voice—“I’m only a human, but everybody knows humans are very good at fetching and carrying.”
Hyrenna sat still for a time, tail twitching. Finally, she said, “You do not need to do this now, surely. These slaves have been slaves all their lives—do you truly believe that they can fight for you? They would be nothing but a burden.”
“But I have to set them free,” said Arenadd.
“Then do so once the war is over!” said Hyrenna. “You will have time then.”
“No,” said Arenadd. “Do you want to know why, Hyrenna?”
“Tell me,” she snapped.
“Once the South knows about what we’re doing, what do you think they’re going to do, Hyrenna? If darkmen are rebelling in the North, why not the South as well? You know how they think. In some places there are more slaves than free men—how do you think the Southerners will react? They’ll kill them. Whether officially or unofficially, they’ll find ways to stop them ever escaping or fighting back. I know what happens to slaves who’ve ceased to be useful. And I can’t let that happen because of me.”
“So you would send me south, away from the fighting, while Arddryn’s followers face death here?” said Hyrenna. “Is that your plan?”
“No. My plan is for you to handle a very dangerous mission that will take all your strength and courage. And which, if it succeeds, will do the very thing Arddryn spent her whole life trying to achieve: set our people free.”
Hyrenna glared at him, but he knew he had backed her into a corner. Now all he had to do was wait while she came to a decision.
A nervous protracted silence followed. A few people dared come back toward the fire. Even the chicks looked apprehensive.
Finally, Hyrenna raised her head and looked down on him. “You have made me an offer, and here is mine,” she said. “I will go south with this female . . . this Skade. I will protect her and advise her. While she is with me, nothing shall ever hurt her. In return, you will fight this war. You will never surrender, never give way, never show mercy. And you will care for my young. You will protect them with your life. You will never let them be cold or hungry or frightened for an instant. If I return and find one of them injured or dead, I will tear you to pieces. Do you understand?”
Arenadd bowed to her. “Yes.”
She rose up, frighteningly large. “I said, do you understand?”
“Yes,” he said, more loudly. “I understand completely. You have my word.”
“Good,” she said. “And this is for Arddryn.”
Her talons hit him in the chest, and an instant later everything rushed past him sideways and he slammed into a tree. Pain overwhelmed his senses, and he fainted.
He woke up some unknown time later and found himself lying on a heap of straw in Skandar’s nest. His back was agony, and his head was a solid ball of pain.
He groaned and mumbled something, and a moment later Skandar was there, nudging at him in a well-meaning way. “Human hurt?”
Arenadd stirred. “Well, I can . . . still move my legs,” he mumbled. “I think that’s a good sign.”
“Hyrenna hit you,” Skandar said matter-of-factly.
“Oh . . . really?” Arenadd tried to raise his head. “You didn’t attack her, did you?”
Skandar looked away. “Want to,” he muttered resentfully. “Not strong enough. Hyrenna say take you and go; she come later.”
“She’s . . . coming? Ooh, what a lucky lad I am.” Arenadd slumped back. “Skandar, could you find Skade? I need someone to help me up.”
“Help!” Skandar snorted. “Not need that. I help.”
Arenadd grasped the griffin’s beak, and Skandar lifted him. He found his feet and managed to stay on them, though putting weight on them was extremely painful.
“Gods, what did she do to me?” he moaned. “I feel like I’ve been hit by an oxcart.”
Skandar helped him toward the door, moving slowly. As they reached it, Skade appeared. She paused for an instant and then ran toward them.
“Arenadd! Skandar! What—Arenadd, are you hurt?”
Arenadd let go of Skandar’s beak as she reached out for him, and he collapsed into her arms.
She held him up. “Oh, by the sky . . . what happened? Can you walk?”
Arenadd clung to her shoulder to try to hold himself up. His legs felt weak and useless. “My back,” he said. “Can you help me to a bed?”
She did, carrying him into the next room and laying him down on the bed, where she tried her best to make him comfortable, asking questions all the while.
“How did this happen? Will you recover? Did you go to Nerth?”
Arenadd blinked; his eyelids felt heavy. “I’ve found you an escort,” he mumbled.
“An escort? You mean Nerth agreed to come?”
“No. Hyrenna.”
“Hyrenna? The griffin? What—”
“You’re going as a griffiner,” said Arenadd. “I’ll . . . explain later.”
“But how were you hurt?” said Skade. “Were you attacked?”
Arenadd was about to tell her that Hyrenna had attacked him, but at the last moment he realised that if she knew, it would make it very difficult for her to work with her new accomplice. “No. Don’t worry, Skade. It’s not important. I fell over. Hit my back on a rock. I’ll be fine.”
Skade still looked concerned. “Rest, then. If there is nothing you must tell us immediately . . .”
“One thing,” said Arenadd. “Hyrenna is coming. Tell the sentries. She’s got orange-brown wings with white mottling. Tell them not to attack her.”
“I will,” said Skade. “Rest now, Arenadd. I will see to it.”
He nodded vaguely and let her leave. After she had gone, he lay still and tried to rest. He worried for a little while that the pain in his back would stop him from sleeping, but his lingering exhaustion was strong enough to override it, and he slid into an uneasy sleep.
When he woke up early the next morning, the pain had gone. Or at least it seemed to have gone. It came back the instant he tried to move, only now moving was much more difficult. All his damaged joints and muscles had stiffened horribly, and for a few awful moments he thought he was paralysed. When he found out that he wasn’t, the revelation did very little to cheer him up.
Skade had been asleep beside him but was up in a moment, urging him to stay in bed until he was better. Arenadd was tempted to give in to her, but he knew he couldn’t afford to lose any time. Once she had realised he wouldn’t be persuaded, Skade reluctantly found a stick for him and helped him out of the room.
Walking slowly and supporting himself with the stick, Arenadd went to find Saeddryn, who was busy training archers. She looked concerned when she saw him.
“Sir, what happened?”
Arenadd tried to straighten up, and cringed. “Aah! Oh gods, that was a bad idea . . . don’t worry, I’ll be fine in a day or so. Just a few torn muscles. How are things?”
“Not too bad,” said Saeddryn. “We’ve done a search of the tower. Found a few Southerners hiding; they’ve been dealt with, don’t worry. This lot are learnin’ all right, an’ Iorwerth already has a squad up on the walls. He’s a good man, that Iorwerth. Ye picked him well, sir. Now, what’s yer own news, sir? Did ye go t’the Gorge?”
“Yes. Nerth’s there, and all the others he took with him. He’s got them well trained and very loyal to him. I gave him the news, and he had some for me
. Saeddryn, Hyrenna’s alive. She’s at the Gorge.”
Saeddryn started. “Hyrenna! Sir, really? Did ye see her yerself?”
“Yes. Her, and her three chicks.”
“Oh my gods—did ye see the chicks, sir? How do they look? Are they all well?”
Arenadd chuckled. “Yes, they’re well. Skandar should be proud; he’s got three strong sons out of Hyrenna. They’re some of the biggest chicks I’ve ever seen. But don’t take my word for it; you’ll see them yourself soon enough.”
“What? Why? Ye ain’t sendin’ me there are ye, sir?”
Arenadd explained.
“An’ ye got her to agree t’that, sir?” Saeddryn asked when he was done.
“On condition that I care for her chicks, yes. She wants us to win this war as much as your mother did.”
“I see, sir. So when is she comin’ here?”
“Soon, I would think. Today or tomorrow. The moment she gets here, Skade can leave.”
“Are ye still sendin’ the others, sir?”
“No. I only wanted to send an escort for protection, but Hyrenna can protect Skade perfectly well on her own. You’ve seen what her magic can do. And it would look far less suspicious if Skade . . . Lady Skade doesn’t travel with a group of free Northerners.”
“Aye, an’ we’ll be better off keepin’ ’em with us, sir.”
“Quite. Now, you’ll have to excuse me. I’ve got a lot to do today.”
“Ye don’t have t’worry too much, sir,” Saeddryn said unexpectedly. “We’ve got time. Malvern won’t know about this for a week at least, by my guess.”
Arenadd looked back at her. “They’ll come sooner than that, Saeddryn. We’ve got a day or so at most.”
“What, sir?” said Saeddryn. “How d’ye know, sir?”
Pain had made him impatient. “Don’t question me,” he snapped. “I told you they’ll be here in two or three days at most, and I expect you to prepare for that.”
Saeddryn nodded curtly. “Yes, sir. I’ll see to it the others know.”
Arenadd left her, walking slowly and wincing with every step. He hoped that he would be recovered enough when the time came. If they were going to survive the assault, he had to be fighting fit.
And they would come soon. He knew it in the pit of his stomach. They would come in force, and they would come with rage. All too soon, Fruitsheart would be consumed by them. Griffins and griffiners, armoured for battle and thirsting for revenge. Skade had to be away by then, away from danger. She had to survive. He had wanted to tell her so many times, but he knew he couldn’t. When I rule this land, it will be with you beside me, Skade. You and Skandar and I—three rulers, three powers. All of us.
That made him smile. It will happen, he told himself. I have the power. I can do anything I want.
The thought of the battle looming on the horizon did nothing to diminish his anticipation. Battle didn’t frighten him, not any more. They will come here and find death waiting, he promised. Now Skandar has his magic, let the world beware.
Elkin was sick.
Kraal took her straight to her chambers when he brought her back, and summoned the Master of Healing with a furious screech to her griffin, who brought her up immediately.
Lady Karmain examined her patient quickly, aware of Kraal’s rage-filled gold eyes fixed on her.
“Burning-Lung sickness,” she said eventually. “Very bad. Fever, restricted breathing . . . very hot to the touch.”
“Well?” Kraal interrupted.
“I don’t know if she’ll recover,” said the healer, “But she needs to stay in bed for a long time. I have potions that can help with the fever, and a compress for her chest, and certain herbs we can burn in here to help her breathe.”
“Will she recover?” said Kraal.
“I don’t know, Mighty Kraal. I’ll do everything in my power. It’s touch and go.”
“Do so,” Kraal commanded. “I will leave you to your work. Do not fail me.”
“I won’t,” said the healer.
“Good. Now I have my own work to do. May the Day Eye smile on you.”
He didn’t want to leave Elkin now, but he knew he had to; there were still important things for him to do, and far too little time to do them in.
Down in the councillors’ chamber, most of the officials and the remnants of the council were waiting to receive him. He landed on his and Elkin’s platform as usual, while they called out to him, demanding news.
Kraal rose up. “Silence!”
Silence came, but much more slowly than usual. Plently of griffins continued to screech, most asking questions. Others were complaining or even daring to mock him.
Kraal sat on his haunches with his tail wrapped around his talons, haughtily ignoring them.
“I have brought my human back to the Eyrie safe and unharmed,” he said. “She is ill and exhausted from her ordeal and needs time to recover, but she is alive.”
“Prove that is true!” a griffin called from the gallery.
Kraal stood up sharply and screeched. The noise filled the chamber, deafeningly, and the hecklers abruptly fell silent.
“My word is all you will need,” Kraal growled, “We have important matters to discuss. Most important of all is the whereabouts of the Mistress’ kidnappers and what they intend to do next.”
“What do you believe they have planned?” one of the council griffins asked politely.
“They cannot fight us openly yet,” said Kraal. “Not at Malvern. They are too few.”
“You have seen their leader,” the same griffin said. “And his human, of course. Did you learn anything from them, Mighty Kraal?”
Kraal stirred. “Yes, I have seen them. But I am not the only one.”
The councillors stirred.
“Who else has seen them?” one of the humans asked. “Do you have information, Mighty Kraal?”
The giant griffin’s eyes gleamed. He had been wanting to reveal this for a while now, but the time had never seemed right. “I do,” he said. “I have a witness.”
“What witness?” said the human. “Is he here?”
“A few days ago, a griffin returned to Malvern after some time away,” said Kraal. “I already knew her a little; she and her human are newcomers here, and lowly in this Eyrie. Her name is Kraeya, and her human is Branton Redguard, who now serves with the Eyrie guard.”
“Where had she been?” asked Shrae, whose dead partner had been Master of Law.
“In Warwick,” said Kraal. “She told me she and her human had decided to travel the land for a little while, to visit each of the cities, since they have only come here recently. They had permission from my own human. Some time during their travels they flew to Warwick, and there . . . they were attacked.”
The councillors, and all those in the gallery, muttered among themselves and began to pay close attention. None of them had known about this.
“By whom were they attacked?” said Shrae. “By the dark griffin?”
“Yes. They were lured into a roost, trapped and attacked by him and by his human. Kraeya escaped with her life, but her human was taken prisoner by rebels. They had overrun the city and murdered every Southerner and griffin within it. Kraeya hid herself in the wilds outside the city, while her human was held captive and interrogated. Fortunately, he escaped before they could torture him as they intended to do, and was reunited with his partner. They came back here at once, to tell us what had happened.”
“Warwick,” muttered grey-feathered Skark, whose dead human had been Master of Learning.
“Warwick must be the place where we will find them,” said Kraal. “I have already sent many griffins there, to attack the Governor’s Tower and destroy every darkman who dares fight back.”
Shrae bristled. “Mightly Kraal, why did you not consult us before you gave this order?”
“You have no humans,” Kraal snapped back. “I only keep you on this council because I have not had time to find partnered griffins to advise me.
And I have sent many griffins,” he added, with less certainty. “Warwick will be made an example of, whether Kraeai kran ae is there or not. The moon worshippers must be reminded that we rule this land, not that heartless demon of the shadows.”
The humans still left in the council looked deeply unhappy at this, but none of them dared to argue.
“Did you send partnered griffins or unpartnered?” one asked eventually.
“I sent nearly a hundred unpartnered griffins,” said Kraal. “It was time such griffins ceased being a drain on this land and began to give back. I sent four griffiners to lead and organise them.”
“When did they depart?” asked Skark.
“At dawn on the day after Kraeya returned,” said Kraal. “And perhaps if you had not been so distracted, you would have seen them.”
“I saw them,” Shrae said coldly. “But I assumed they had merely decided to abandon this city after they saw you humiliated and defeated, Mighty Kraal.”
Several of the humans breathed in sharply, and the griffins raised their wings.
Kraal stared at Shrae for a moment, unblinking, and then stepped down from his platform and struck her across the face. She was a large griffin, but the blow hurled her sideways into a bench with her wing crumpled beneath her.
Kraal stood over her, hissing softly. “I rule here,” he said. “I am master of this territory. And I will not be brought low by humans, least of all dark humans, least of all the moon-sent monster who dares to defy the power of the Day Eye and bring his shadows here. And I am master of you, and I will not tolerate insolence or disobedience.”
Shrae lay still for a moment, breathing heavily, before she pulled herself up. And then, without any warning, she attacked.
It was the last thing Kraal had been expecting. No griffin had dared to attack him in decades. He staggered backward, bright blood spreading over his magnificent white neck feathers. Shrae, taking advantage of his shock, sprang at him with her beak wide open.
The remnants of the council, human and griffin, ran to get out of the way.
Kraal took several more blows to the face and chest before he recovered himself. He reared up onto his hind legs and struck back. His paws and talons slammed into Shrae’s head, first from the right and then from the left, each blow landing with an audible crunch. She fell, bleeding profusely, but Kraal was not done. He leapt at her, his beak striking her in the neck with the force of a falling tree. There was a dull thud, and suddenly she was thrashing wildly with her limbs jerking this way and that. One wing unfolded and beat uselessly at the air. Her beak opened wide but her eyes were unfocused, and after a moment the wild motion stopped and she went limp.
