by K J Taylor
The bullies fled.
Kullervo stooped and offered a hand to the red-haired boy. ‘It’s all right, I won’t hurt you. Let me help.’
The boy stood, and gaped in open fear when he saw who had rescued him. ‘Holy Gryphus …!’
Kullervo offered him a reassuring smile, careful not to show his teeth. ‘Are you all right? My name’s Kullervo.’
The boy’s eyes were wide with awe. ‘You’re …’ He took in the black hair. ‘A Northerner …?’ His gaze quickly shifted to the wings. ‘But you’ve got … are those real?’
‘The wings? Yes.’ Kullervo twisted on the spot to show him. ‘What’s your name?’
‘People call me Red,’ said the boy. ‘What are you? Are you a Northerner?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Kullervo. ‘My father was one. But my mother was from Withypool.’
‘But you’ve got wings,’ said Red, returning to the most relevant point.
‘Yes, that’s because my mother was a griffin. Listen, Red, can you help me? I’ve just come here, and I was wondering what this place is.’
‘Your mother was a griffin?’
‘Yes. She got turned into a human. Please, can you tell me what this place is?’
‘It’s Liranwee,’ said Red. ‘We’re building it. Why are you here? Were you sent here?’
‘Yes, I was sent,’ said Kullervo.
‘By Gryphus?’
‘By my sister,’ Kullervo said, more sharply than he meant to. ‘I’ve never met Gryphus. I’m here to talk with the griffiners who rule this place — can you tell me where to find them?’
‘’Course I can,’ said the boy. ‘They live in the tents around where the Eyrie’s gonna be. There’s only twenty of ’em now. Lady Isleen’s in charge now, and Calder’s her right-hand man. He’s the best fighter here; they’re sayin’ he’ll be Master of War once the city’s ready.’
‘You seem to know a lot about them,’ Kullervo observed.
‘I know them all,’ said Red. ‘Isleen an’ Calder an’ stupid Eadoin who thinks he’s clever, an’ Gallia who said she likes my hair, an’ all the rest of them.’
‘Really?’ Kullervo sized the boy up; he certainly didn’t look much like a noble, but looks could be deceiving. ‘Who are you, anyway?’
Red’s face fell. ‘My dad was one of them. He was gonna be Eyrie Master, he said, but …’
Kullervo remembered what the bullies had shouted. ‘But he didn’t?’
‘No. He’s dead now. Lady Isleen says he was a traitor, that he was gonna sell us to the Dark Lord, but that’s a lie.’ Red’s scowl deepened. ‘He never!’
Kullervo patted him gingerly on the shoulder. ‘It’s all right, Red. I believe you. Can you show me where these griffiners are? I want to talk to them.’
‘All right.’ Red looked past him, to where Senneck and Seerae were waiting impatiently. ‘Are they with you?’
‘Yes. That’s Seerae, and this is Senneck.’
‘Are you a griffiner, then?’ said Red.
‘No. Yes. Sort of.’
‘Are you partnered with both of them?’ Red looked more than ready to believe it.
‘No, no. Seerae is just … with us.’ Kullervo straightened up. ‘Will you show us the way, Red?’
‘Yes, sir.’ Red wiped the blood off his lip and scurried off through the huts.
Kullervo followed, frowning to himself. He was glad to have rescued the boy: aside from anything else, the sight or the thought of bullying like that had always put him in a rage. But helping Red out of his trouble had been more than just a good deed, it seemed.
Of course, impressing a fourteen-year-old wouldn’t be much of a comparison with twenty haughty, suspicious griffiners. Kullervo would just have to try, and hope for the best.
Red took them on a winding and seemingly roundabout route through the makeshift homes, heading for the tents at the centre. Along the way, plenty of people saw the odd little procession, and in no time at all exclamations of shock had begun to rise up all around.
‘Wings!’
‘Darkman!’
‘The winged man!’
Kullervo turned his head toward the people who called out to him, acknowledging them with smiles and nods but saying nothing. He could talk to them later, maybe — assuming there was a later.
Many of them, though, weren’t content with just stares and shouts. Not wanting to miss the chance to see whatever might happen, they started to follow. Before long Kullervo was leading what looked like a sort of impromptu parade of curious people, some of whom seemed to think he was a divine apparition, since they started to chant or to sing sacred songs, some boldly coming closer to try and touch his wings.
Kullervo fended them off as gently as he could, shaking his head when they called him ‘Holy One’ or ‘Messenger’.
Ahead of him, Red had seen what was going on. He slowed his pace and walked closer to Kullervo, holding his head high. Maybe he didn’t quite know who this winged stranger was, but he did know that he, Red, was the one who got to walk through the city with him, and that was more than enough to be pleased about. He even started waving to his friends when they saw him go by, just to make sure they noticed him.
Kullervo, watching him, chuckled to himself.
Above him the griffins must have noticed the commotion in the city, because they started to land. Not near the crowd, but in among the tents, where their humans could join them.
By the time Kullervo arrived at the spot where the Eyrie’s foundations had been laid, a group of griffiners was already waiting for him. At their head was a middle-aged woman, brown-haired and rather nondescript, with a compact, square build. But from her fine clothes and her place at the front, it was clear that she was in command here.
Accordingly, Kullervo went up to her, then stood aside to let Senneck pass. The brown-haired woman’s partner, a pale-eyed grey griffin, approached her.
Senneck crouched low as a sign of respect, and allowed the grey griffin to scent her. Once he was satisfied, she spoke the ritual words used when one griffin accepted the dominance of another. He seemed satisfied with that, and moved back to stand protectively over his human.
Kullervo stepped forward. ‘Lady Isleen,’ he said, ignoring the listening crowd behind him. ‘Eyrie Mistress of Liranwee. I am Prince Kullervo Taranisäii of Malvern, son of Arenadd Taranisäii and Skade of Withypool.’
Murmurs started at this.
‘Arenadd Taranisäii?’ Lady Isleen repeated sharply. ‘King Arenadd Taranisäii?’
Kullervo smiled sadly. ‘I don’t know of any other person by that name. Yes, that was my father. “The Dark Lord Arenadd”, as your people call him. But I’m not here to talk about him.’
‘Aren’t you?’ Isleen’s eyes narrowed. ‘You’re a Northerner. But why are you wearing those wings?’
‘Yes, I’m a Northerner,’ said Kullervo. ‘I have come here on behalf of my sister, Queen Laela Taranisäii of Malvern.’
The mutterings grew even louder.
‘Queen?’ said Isleen. ‘Then your father …?’
‘He’s dead,’ said Kullervo. ‘He died some time ago. I came here to bring you that news.’
Shouts rose from the crowd.
‘King Arenadd is dead,’ Kullervo said loudly, cutting across them. ‘Now his daughter Laela has taken the throne, and she has sent me to talk to you, and to all the Eyries in the South.’
‘What about?’ Isleen asked, looking warily at Senneck.
‘Queen Laela offers you a treaty of peace,’ said Kullervo. He reached into his tunic, and brought out the precious scroll. ‘Here.’
Isleen unrolled it and quickly scanned the message. Once she had finished, she passed it on to her fellows to read.
‘As you can see,’ said Kullervo, ‘my queen is tired of keeping up a barrier between North and South. As a half-Southerner, she has no interest in making war on her mother’s people. King Arenadd is gone, and his supporters have been banished. We want to remake the Nort
h as a different country, one that doesn’t hide away behind those mountains. We want peace and co-operation. An end to hatred between our peoples.’
Isleen’s expression did not change, though behind her it was clear that her fellows were doing a lot of thinking. ‘And how do we know this offer is genuine?’
‘You have me,’ said Kullervo. ‘I’m my sister’s heir, and the highest noble she had to send. I came here alone because I would be happy to die in the name of peace. But if that isn’t enough, then let Laela speak for herself. Go to Malvern, and you can negotiate with her there yourselves.’
Several of the listening griffiners snorted derisively.
‘And be held hostage?’ Isleen asked stonily. ‘Or killed?’
‘Then send a message back,’ said Kullervo. ‘Negotiate long-distance. Or you can go there with me, and take me as your own hostage if you’re betrayed. But you won’t be. You have my word.’
‘And what is your word worth to us?’
Kullervo growled. With a supreme effort, he unfurled his wings.
The crowd gasped. Several people actually screamed. Among the griffiners, every human took a step backward. The griffins reared up in surprise. Three of the humans there knelt.
‘Do — not — kneel!’ Kullervo bellowed. ‘I am not a holy man. I am not sent by Gryphus. I am …’ his voice and face softened. ‘I’m Kullervo Taranisäii. That’s all. My quest is mine, not Gryphus’. Listen …’
Absolute silence fell.
‘I never knew my father, but I know what he was. I know the things he did. And …’ Kullervo bowed his head. ‘And I’m ashamed for it. I would die to bring back the people he murdered, I would give up everything I care about if it could rebuild what he destroyed. But I will never deny the value of what he fought for.’ He raised his head. ‘All men are equal. All men should be free. North, South, what’s human is human.
‘Why do we need gods? Why should we have to love them, when we have each other? Love humankind. Love each other, and so be free. Let go of fear and hate. There’s so much we could do, so much we could achieve, if we only let ourselves try. Who can say what we could become?’ His voice had grown louder and more passionate as he went on, and now he reached down and opened his tunic, showing the scars on his body as they twisted their way between hair and stray feathers. ‘I’ve seen and felt what the darker side of us can do. I’ve felt it myself and inflicted it on others. I’ve tasted my father’s hatred. It was enough, more than enough. What I want now is love. What I want now … is peace. But I’ve realised that I can never have those things unless I give them to other people. So I came here, even though I knew I could be killed because of this black hair, this pale skin. I came here to offer those things to you. Whether you choose to take them … is up to you.’
By the time he had finished speaking, a good part of the crowd were looking up at him with shining eyes. Even the stern-faced griffiners looked moved.
Lady Isleen spoke, her voice slightly hoarse. ‘You are the winged man …’
Kullervo stared, and sighed. ‘I’m a winged man. I’m not a god. I’m not holy. I’m just a man with a dream.’
But nobody seemed to hear him say it. Behind him, people began to kneel again, bowing their heads. Others surged forward, reaching out toward him, their faces full of adoration. Many of the griffiners did the same.
‘Winged man,’ voices murmured. ‘The winged one has come! Gryphus has spoken!’
‘No — ’ Kullervo began, but the protest fell on deaf ears. Before he knew it he was being touched on all sides, and people were bowing their heads to him, whispering prayers or asking for a blessing. ‘I’m not,’ Kullervo said helplessly. ‘I’m not …’
Lady Isleen pulled herself together. ‘Prince Kullervo,’ she said. ‘We will discuss this treaty overnight. In the meantime, you and your partners will be given a tent and provided with anything you need.’
‘A ring of guards would be helpful,’ Senneck muttered from somewhere behind the mass of worshippers.
Kullervo, seeing the ecstatic faces all about, felt despair eat into his heart. He had only tried to tell them what he had come to believe, and he had never expected it to be like this. He had wanted to inspire people to accept Laela’s treaty, not gather a cult.
It was madness, all of it.
But there was nothing he could do about it.
He allowed himself to be shown to a spare tent, big enough for two griffins. Despite the efforts of the guards who escorted him, the crowd followed, clamouring for attention, all wanting a piece of his imaginary holiness. Even when Kullervo went into his tent they tried to follow, ignoring the commands of the guards on either side of the entrance.
Helpless anger took hold of Kullervo. He turned in the entrance, and shouted, ‘I am not going to bless you! I am not a holy man. I’m godless, you hear me? I spat on the Night God’s altar. Gryphus’ temples make me ill. Go away.’
But perhaps he shouldn’t have mentioned the Night God.
‘The winged man rejects the evil of Scathach!’ one man yelled fanatically. ‘He spits on her altar!’
Kullervo let out an incoherent scream of frustration and retreated into the tent, pulling the flap closed behind him.
Thank … whatever, the crowd didn’t come in after him.
Once Kullervo had finished tying the flap in place, he turned around and put a hand over his face. ‘Oh gods …’
When he looked up, Senneck was there. She came closer to him and rubbed her face against his. ‘Kullervo,’ she purred. ‘Forgive me. I have misjudged you.’
Kullervo stared. ‘What?’
Senneck’s purring grew louder. ‘Once I thought you were a fool,’ she said. ‘I did not believe that you had the power to scheme and to manipulate as humans must. I was wrong, and now I am prouder than ever that you are my human.’
‘What power?’ Kullervo demanded. ‘I didn’t scheme anything!’
‘But your plan was brilliant!’ said Senneck. ‘I cannot believe I did not think of it before! To come here and say those things in full sight of the common humans, to show them your wings and to speak of unity … it is genius! In one day you have fooled a hundred humans into believing you are a holy man. By the sight and scent of them, I think they would already follow you to the ends of the earth.’
‘But I didn’t want — ’ Kullervo began.
‘I see now that your desire to come South was a wise one,’ Senneck went on, ignoring him. ‘If you do this in the other cities, before long you will have gathered an army of your own. And with them, you and I could win such power …’
‘I don’t want an army!’ Kullervo roared, losing patience with her for probably the first time. ‘Why won’t anybody listen to me? I didn’t come here looking for followers, I just wanted to inspire people! Persuade them into taking up Laela’s offer!’
‘And so you have,’ said Senneck, unperturbed. ‘The griffiners here were as impressed by your words as the commoners. Do not be afraid: by morning, they will come to you and tell you they have decided to accept the treaty. Those you won over will persuade the rest.’
Kullervo calmed down. ‘But I don’t want people to think I’m holy,’ he said. ‘I never wanted them to.’
‘What does it matter?’ Seerae put in. ‘It is only another way to convince others. Use it to your advantage, and let them believe what they like.’
‘No,’ said Kullervo. ‘I won’t live a lie. Not again.’
‘But you do not need to lie,’ said Senneck. ‘You did not lie today; the fools lied to themselves. If they wish to do this, let them. It is not your idiocy. My daughter is right.’
Kullervo found a chair and slumped into it. ‘It wasn’t supposed to be like this.’ He threw an appealing look at Senneck. ‘You heard what I said. Didn’t you understand it? Did it mean anything to you?’
‘No,’ Senneck said brusquely. ‘It is nothing but foolery and wishful thinking. All humans are not equal; the world is not made that way. The strong
must always triumph over the weak; that is how it has always been. My kind know this, and that is why we choose only the best, the strongest and the most dominant humans — or those we can cause to be so. Without the ones we do not choose, who will be left to serve us and our partners?’ She regarded him, her blue eyes almost serene. ‘You say these things because you are too afraid to allow yourself to be strong. You are not weak, you are powerful, but you will not admit it to yourself.’
Kullervo didn’t want to argue any more. Exhaustion had closed over his mind, but it felt more like an exhaustion of the spirit than of the body. ‘Maybe that’s why I care about the weak,’ he muttered. ‘Because I’m weak too. I didn’t think you’d understand … I need to rest.’
‘Rest, then,’ said Senneck. ‘You have done well.’
But Kullervo didn’t feel as if he had. He flopped down on the small bed someone had set up in a corner, and pulled his wings over himself like a blanket. Not for the first time, he wished he didn’t have them. They had saved his life many times, but sometimes they felt more like a curse than a blessing.
Despairing, he eventually sank into a troubled sleep.
NINETEEN
A CHOICE
Kullervo dreamed of a flowery field under a magnificent blue sky. In the distance, forests and mountains loomed, but no matter how far away they were they had no darkness to them at all. There were no shadows here.
He wandered through the field, intoxicated by the scent of the flowers. He had never smelled flowers as sweet and rich as these — or seen anything like them either. Their petals were pure gold, darkening to fiery red and orange at the centre.
Dreamily, Kullervo tried to pick one — but found he couldn’t. The stem wouldn’t break, and when he tried to twist it a gentle urge struck him to leave it alone.
There can be no death here, a voice said from above.
Kullervo straightened up, but a part of him already knew who it was.
I am Gryphus, child.
The god loomed over even him, surrounded by a glow of sunlight. He looked like a man, but a giant one, massively muscled, his bare chest broad and bristling with hair. His face was a Southern one, wide and heavy-jawed, with bright blue eyes. Hair the colour of fire hung down over his shoulders and a beard covered his chin. A golden circlet gleamed on his forehead.
