by K J Taylor
‘Yes.’ Senneck closed her eyes. ‘Perhaps.’
ELEVEN
FUGITIVES
Several long, painful months after the destruction of Skenfrith, Caedmon was huddled down by a campfire. Myfina sat beside him and Garsh and Shar were nearby, talking in quiet but rapid griffish.
Both humans looked ragged and grubby, and tired. Neither of them had slept under a roof more than once or twice since the war ended, and nowadays the only new clothes they got were stolen for them by Saeddryn. They looked like the fugitives they were, and both of them knew it.
Caedmon glanced up at the roof that sheltered them. It wasn’t much of one: half of it had fallen down some time ago, and the part that hadn’t was rotting and full of holes. Over the last few months they’d camped in many different places, knowing it would be safer to stay on the move, but despite the shelter here this one was probably the most depressing so far. A ruined farmhouse in a ruined village, where nobody had lived for nearly twenty years. Eitheinn wasn’t just an old village; it was a dead one. Griffiners had come from Malvern and killed it. Malvern’s griffiners had all been Southerners back then, but nothing had really changed. Malvern still sent out griffiners to persecute rebels and destroy the places where they hid. The only difference now was that it was Laela doing the sending.
She was sending other kinds of people now, too.
Malvern — and griffiners in general, in fact — had never bothered with a very large human army. Why would they, when a handful of griffins could wipe out an enemy just as well, but much faster and more easily? It had been the key to griffiner domination for a very long time.
But now Malvern had a new army, a human one, and Laela was using it well. Amoran had sent over shiploads of Northerner slaves, some as gifts and some traded for goods. Laela had freed every single one of them the instant they set foot on Northern soil, and since they were used to obeying and needed something to do with themselves, she had employed them, paying them for jobs not much different from those they’d done as slaves. And what many of them had done was fight.
She had sent them to occupy every one of the major cities, some to work as guards, some as builders, and the educated ones, who spoke different languages and knew how to read and write, were given places in the towers. Soon every governor was surrounded by new assistants, and in Warwick and Skenfrith, where one governor had been killed and the other had run away with the rebels, former slaves had been appointed to replace them.
It was a brilliant strategy, and it had worked painfully well. Every city was now all but controlled by Laela’s new minions, every one of whom had been trained since birth to be absolutely obedient. They were free now, but habits like those never really died, and the chances of getting any of them to turn on their new mistress were very poor. And with Skandar and the Unpartnered still on Laela’s side …
With all that against him, Caedmon was nothing but an outlaw with an impossible dream, and a handful of supporters with whom he had all but lost contact.
The only blessing he still had left was Saeddryn, but with the wretched Oeka in Malvern and Skandar by Laela’s side everywhere she went, Saeddryn couldn’t get close enough to kill the one person whose death would make a real difference. Not that she hadn’t tried, but so far she had failed, and Caedmon knew better than to even mention it to her any more.
He glanced sideways at Myfina. In her own way she had taken the situation worse than he had. She had never really recovered from the loss of Heath. And the truth was that Caedmon missed him too.
Myfina turned her head and caught him looking at her. She gave him a smile. ‘A copper for your thoughts.’
Caedmon shook himself. ‘They’re not worth that much. D’you want something to eat?’
‘No, thank you.’ Myfina looked past the fire, toward the empty doorframe. Beyond it there was nothing but darkness. ‘When is she ever going to come?’
‘When it suits her,’ said Caedmon. His voice sounded indifferent to himself, but the truth was that these days Saeddryn was the only person who ever gave him hope. Not much hope, but at least her visits meant news, and sometimes messages from the others.
Myfina shuffled closer to him. ‘I’m not sure I want her to come,’ she muttered. ‘She scares me.’
‘You shouldn’t be scared of her,’ said Caedmon. ‘She’s on our side, remember?’
‘That doesn’t make any difference. Doesn’t it bother you too, how she … is now?’
‘Not that much,’ Caedmon said honestly. ‘I spent too much of my time with Arenadd before; I’m used to it.’
Myfina, who had never met the King face-to-face, shivered. ‘What was he like?’
‘Not much different from how my mother is now,’ said Caedmon. ‘Except he was younger. In spirit, I mean.’
‘What does that mean?’ Myfina put her head on one side.
‘I mean he was like a younger person. More reckless, and he liked taking risks. Do you know he used to sneak out of the Eyrie at night? There was a back passage he used, and he’d go out into the city in disguise.’
‘Really?’ Myfina exclaimed. ‘Honestly?’
Caedmon nodded. ‘He took me with him a few times. We explored the city, went to watch the theatre with the commoners, got drunk together …’ He smiled at the memories. ‘When we were out there, he stopped being like a king. He was more like my brother, talking me into sneaking off and getting into mischief behind our mother’s back. We even looked the same age.’
Myfina laughed. ‘Good gods, I had no idea!’ She leaned over unexpectedly and grabbed his hand. ‘When you’re king, promise we’ll do that. Promise!’
‘I — ’ Caedmon stared at their clasped hands. Then he smiled. ‘Of course. You and me.’
‘And Heath,’ Myfina added. ‘When we find him again.’
Caedmon lost his smile. ‘Yes …’
It was all a lie, of course, all a fantasy. But there was no reason to say so. There was no harm in cheering each other up.
‘But you and the King argued, didn’t you?’ Myfina said softly, once the silence had gone on too long. ‘That’s why …’
Caedmon’s face hardened. ‘He was a killer, Myfina. He was always a killer. The Night God made him to be that way. I think with me he liked to pretend he was still the way he’d been before he died — just a boy with his whole life in front of him. He made me believe it too. But he killed every woman he tried to love.’
‘So that’s true, then?’ said Myfina. ‘Did he really poison them, like people say?’
‘Yes,’ said Caedmon. ‘But not in the way people think. He didn’t mean to do it.’
‘I don’t understand,’ said Myfina, not letting go of his hand. ‘How can you poison someone without meaning to?’
‘He wanted children,’ said Caedmon. ‘He wanted an heir of his own. Those women he took as his lovers … all of them were meant to be his brides. He decided, you see, decided that if he took a lover and she gave him a child, then he would marry her. Make her his queen. That’s why they all came to him, one after the other. They were afraid of what might happen, but none of them could resist.’
‘But none of them conceived,’ said Myfina. She tightened her grip on his hand. ‘They all died.’
‘No, they did,’ said Caedmon. ‘Not many people know it, but they did. They all did. Sooner or later, all of them conceived. And that’s what killed them. None of them could carry a child of his to term.’
Myfina cringed. ‘But why not …?’
‘Because a child is made when the father’s blood mixes with the mother’s inside her body,’ a voice answered from the darkness outside. ‘And his blood was poison.’
Caedmon stood up sharply. ‘Mother!’
Saeddryn appeared, stepping into the firelight. ‘Caedmon,’ she said formally. ‘An’ Myfina. It’s good to see ye. An’ ye, Shar an’ Garsh.’
The two griffins bristled instinctively at the sight of her, but said nothing.
‘What’s the new
s?’ asked Caedmon, knowing his mother cared even less about formalities now than she had before.
Saeddryn brushed a few bits of leaf off her dress and sat down opposite him by the fire. ‘There’s no news,’ she said brusquely, and lapsed into icy silence.
Caedmon sat down again, and wisely waited for her to speak in her own time. She sat quite still, staring into the fire. The light played over her face, showing every crease and hollow and filling the ugly scar over her eye with shadow.
Saeddryn had been dead for months now, and it showed. It showed as it had shown on Arenadd toward the end of his time as the Shadow That Walked, when he had withdrawn from living humans and stopped imitating their ways. When Caedmon had known him he had still lived more or less like an ordinary man, and had mostly looked like one, but Saeddryn had chosen to forget the habits of the living immediately after her death. She had stopped eating or sleeping, and ignored things like heat and cold. It had enhanced her powers, she said, but it had also begun to leach the humanity out of her, and Caedmon noticed it even if she didn’t seem to care.
Her face was gaunt and pale as death, the one eye red-rimmed and soulless. On the rare occasions that she sat down to rest, as she was doing now, she didn’t fidget or move her head around like an ordinary person would, but sat as still as ice, scarcely breathing. Caedmon wondered if she even needed to breathe any more. Probably not.
‘I got to the new Governor of Warwick,’ she said suddenly.
‘Did you kill him?’ asked Caedmon.
‘No. No point. He’s just doin’ his job. Doesn’t know or care about any of our troubles. I left a message instead. Left more in the city. Talked from the shadows. They think there’s a ghost there now. Did the same in Skenfrith. That’s the best place t’go. The people there won’t ever forget what the half-breed did.’
‘What about the half-breed?’ Caedmon interrupted. ‘Did you get to her? See her?’
‘Tried,’ said Saeddryn, scowling. ‘She was supposed t’be visitin’ Fruitsheart, but then at the last moment she goes to Caerleon instead. It’s the third time this has happened. Every time I think she’s gonna be in one place, I find out she’s gone to another.’ Her fists clenched. ‘It’s startin’ to feel like she can read my mind. An’ even I can’t travel fast enough t’catch up with her when she does that.’
Caedmon looked bleakly at her. ‘What are we going to do, Mother?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Saeddryn. ‘It’s a bloody stalemate, an’ it’s gonna take more than just us to break it.’ She gave Caedmon a sharp look. ‘But maybe ye should be the one doin’ something.’
‘Like what?’ said Caedmon, more sourly than he meant to. ‘Should I challenge her to single combat? Invade Malvern with three griffiners and a dead woman?’
To his surprise, Saeddryn’s answer was a dry cackle. ‘No, but maybe another mad Southerner with a dagger would do the trick, eh? Don’t ye think? Worked well last time, didn’t it?’
Caedmon stared and then started. ‘What — ?’
‘Aye, I know it was ye who sent that man after Arenadd,’ said Saeddryn. ‘Ye planned it well, too. Shame ye forgot it takes more than a dunking in the canal t’kill the Shadow That Walks.’
Caedmon felt as if a hand had wrapped around his throat. ‘How did you know …?’
‘I didn’t. Didn’t know a damn thing about it until yer father told me. Yer little assassin fell into his hands after the half-breed pulled Arenadd out of the canal. When yer father got a confession out of him an’ realised whose head would roll when Arenadd found out, he made sure he’d never say a word.’ Saeddryn’s eye narrowed. ‘Ye had good sense t’be miles away from Malvern when that happened. Meant all the suspicion fell on me instead.’
Caedmon had gone pale. ‘I didn’t mean …’
‘Hah.’ Saeddryn waved his guilt away. ‘It didn’t make no difference. Arenadd already knew I was plottin’ against him, an’ said so before he ran off. It’s just a shame yer plan didn’t work, or we coulda had the half-breed safely out of the way an’ ye on the throne before things got so out of hand.’
‘I thought you wanted the throne,’ Caedmon growled, embarrassment making him angry.
‘Not for long,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I knew I wasn’t gonna live much longer. But if I’d had the throne, it would’ve taken the uncertainty away, made it easier for ye when the time came. Anyway, that’s in the past now. An’ I lied.’
‘Eh?’ The sudden change in topic had caught him off-guard. ‘Lied about what?’
‘About there not bein’ any news. There is some.’
‘What is it?’ asked Myfina, who had stayed sensibly quiet up until now.
‘I’ve just come from the coast,’ said Saeddryn. ‘Last place I visited. A ship’s just arrived there, an’ guess who’s on it.’
‘More slaves?’ Caedmon offered.
‘Some, but not that many,’ said Saeddryn. ‘No, it’s the half-breed’s crony that’s come back. The one they call man-griffin. Him an’ the griffin, Senneck — the Bastard’s old partner.’
‘Oh.’ Caedmon had heard of these two, even if he had never seen them. They were the half-breed’s spies, and had proven to be surprisingly dangerous enemies given that one was an ageing griffin and the other one a deformed freak. ‘Did you find out where they’d come from?’
‘Aye, Maijan,’ said Saeddryn. ‘There on some secret mission. They’ve brought someone back with them.’
‘Who?’ asked Myfina.
‘An Amorani prince,’ said Saeddryn. ‘Prince Akhane. The same man what the half-breed married in Amoran.’
‘He hasn’t brought an army with him, has he?’ said Caedmon, his heart sinking.
‘Not that I know of. Just a few friends, nothing special.’ Saeddryn shook her head. ‘I can’t figure out what he’s come over for. Obvious answer is it’s t’be her royal consort. Guess she couldn’t find a Northern man who’d touch her with a ten-foot pole.’
Myfina laughed unkindly. ‘Still, that doesn’t change much.’
‘It changes everything,’ Saeddryn snapped. ‘For one it means a stronger alliance with Amoran. For another, it means she could soon have an heir. It also means she’s just made a big mistake.’
Caedmon nodded. ‘Marrying an Amorani — a sun-worshipper, when she’s surrounded by good Northern men? And she’d get a half-breed heir from him, too … It’d be more Southerner and Amorani than Northerner. You know what people will say when that happens.’
‘“Leavin’ the throne to be taken by a foreigner”,’ Saeddryn resumed. ‘“Givin’ it to an heir who’s not one of us. We fought a war that tore the North apart so we’d have the right t’be ruled by our own kind.” With this, she’ll undo everything.’
‘Oh no,’ Myfina groaned.
Caedmon, however, smiled a grim smile. ‘No, Myfina — this is a good thing. She’s just stabbed herself in the foot. If the people see her sharing her throne with some dog-eating Amorani, what do you think they’ll do then?’
Myfina finally caught on. ‘Start thinking you’d be a better option?’
‘Exactly.’ Caedmon’s mind was already racing. ‘We’ll need to move fast, to take advantage of the outrage this is going to create. Mother, what do you suggest?’
‘We need griffiners,’ she said immediately. ‘An’ that’s what I’m goin’ to get us. I’m gonna start making contact. Every time one leaves Malvern, I’ll be on their tail. I’ll talk to them, see what I can do. Plant a few ideas, make a few threats maybe.’
Neither of them dared ask her how she would know who was going where, or when.
‘Do that,’ Caedmon said. ‘And spread the word to the others. In the meantime, we’re going up to the Throne for a while. It should be a good enough hiding place for a few days, and Shar and Garsh should find better hunting.’
Saeddryn nodded. ‘Pray in the circle. It’ll make ye feel better, if nothin’ else. I’ll come an’ meet ye up there when I’ve got more for ye.’
She stood
up and left the ruined house without another word.
After Saeddryn had left, Caedmon half expected Myfina to say something about Saeddryn’s having exposed what he had done to Arenadd. But she didn’t, and only wished him good night before they both snuggled down by their partners for warmth.
Caedmon lay on his side, taking comfort from Shar’s deep breathing and the warmth of her fur and feathers. Another griffin might have abandoned him after all his failures, but she hadn’t. She still believed in him. Like Myfina did, and Saeddryn as well, and all the others out there who were still keeping the faith and waiting for their day to come.
Silently, he vowed to himself that no matter what happened he would not fail them again. Arenadd had failed them, first by disinheriting his rightful heir and then by naming the half-breed instead. But Caedmon knew with all his heart and all his soul that he himself was the one whom the Night God had always meant to be his successor. He would learn from Arenadd’s mistakes, not repeat them. He would not run away from his duty the way Arenadd had, or betray his people to Southerners and half-breeds. Not for anything.
This promise to himself made him feel better, and he drifted off to sleep.
The following morning, Caedmon and Myfina scattered their campfire and left before the sun had finished rising. Shar and Garsh were impatient to be off, and the moment their humans were mounted they flew away from the remains of Eitheinn and up into the mountains. Winter was over, but there was always snow on the tops of the First Mountains. By now, though, it had melted away from the plateau where the thirteen stones of Taranis Throne stood. Shar and Garsh landed there and left their humans to find a camp while they flew away to hunt.
Caedmon stood for a moment by the altar in the centre of the circle and admired the stones that surrounded him. He had been here before several times, the first time when he was only a boy and his mother had brought him to see the most holy place in the North. Once, she said, there had been many circles like this one. But the invading Southerners had pulled them down when they began to suppress the old ways of the Northerners and so make them lose their unity for good. Yet the sacred stones of Taranis Throne were too high and far away to reach, so they had been left alone by the Southerners, who must have thought nobody would bother coming this far into the freezing mountains just to worship at them. They had been wrong, and Northerners had continued to come to the Throne. This was where the refugees who had survived the uprising led by Saeddryn’s mother, Arddryn, had come to hide with their leader. This was where Arenadd had found them, years later, and been groomed to succeed Arddryn as the leader of the rebels, with Saeddryn as his wife and second in command. He had done everything that was asked of him, except for marrying Saeddryn. Instead he had found another husband for her, and conducted their wedding here, in the circle.
