by K J Taylor
Hands had him by the shoulders. They were lifting him, dragging him backward. The griffin side still thought he was under attack, but he was too weak just then to put up much resistance.
Other hands tried to lift his legs. ‘It’s all right,’ another voice said. ‘We’re taking you back inside.’
Kullervo’s eyes opened fully, and made pain lance downward. The whole right side of his face hurt. But his head was clearing quickly. He mustn’t be as badly injured as he had thought.
He coughed, and managed to speak in a thick mumble. ‘Let me try to get up.’
The people dragging him let go, and moved to lift him into a sitting position. He peered at them, and relief made him feel much better. Resling was there, and Liantha, and Red. They were all alive, and none looked badly wounded. Only Red had a shallow cut on his forehead.
Kullervo tentatively touched his own face and winced. Something had laid his cheek open from his eye to his mouth; blood was already congealing on the skin around it.
But though there were numerous throbbing bruises and cuts on his chest and arms, and a nasty ache in his leg, he seemed to be more or less fine. Apart from the cut, the blow to the head that had knocked him out must have been the worst injury he’d collected.
He managed to stand up, wobbling slightly as dizziness made the world spin briefly around him, and massaged the back of his head. A lump bulged under his hair.
The others all looked relieved. ‘We thought you might be badly hurt, sir,’ said Resling.
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Kullervo. He tensed as recollection came back. ‘What about the others? Senneck?’
‘Senneck’s a bit cut up,’ said Liantha. ‘We could only look at a distance; she’s still trying to lay. But she can’t be that bad. None of them were very well armed, and they were all very weak. If not, we’d probably all be dead.’
‘And Roland?’
The others looked grim.
‘He’s unconscious,’ said Liantha. ‘We’ve put him in his bed, but I don’t know …’
Kullervo’s head had started to ache savagely, but he ignored it and made for the building. There was no sign of any of the people who had attacked him. ‘Why did they do that?’ he asked. ‘What happened?’
‘They’re desperate,’ said Liantha. ‘Starving. We have a store of food here; we’ve been sharing it, but it’s never enough.’
‘But why attack Senneck?’
‘I told you; they’re desperate,’ said Liantha. ‘Starvation does that to people. Makes them want to eat anything they can find.’
Kullervo gaped. ‘They wanted to eat her …?’
Liantha did not look shocked, only resigned. ‘They eat each other sometimes. But there’s more meat on a griffin.’
Kullervo tried to get his mind around what she was saying — not an easy thing to do, and not just because of the headache. ‘But that’s not why they came here, is it?’ he said eventually. ‘It’s because of me. They saw me in the street, and they followed me here. They thought I was my father.’
‘Well, you did tell them you were,’ Resling pointed out. ‘We all heard you.’
‘Of course I did!’ said Kullervo. ‘They were attacking Senneck, and all of you. I had to lead them away, or …’
‘You were real brave,’ said Red.
The pain in Kullervo’s head spiked. ‘I was a damn fool,’ he muttered. ‘Oh gods, I didn’t kill any of them, did I?’
‘No,’ said Resling. ‘You hurt plenty, but they weren’t fool enough to keep on after you went into a frenzy like that! They only got you down by luck, and we drove them off you. They ran away after that.’
Kullervo sighed. ‘That’s good.’
‘Why is it good?’ asked Resling. ‘They were lunatics. They would have killed us all if they could have.’
‘That doesn’t matter,’ said Kullervo. ‘I never want to kill anyone ever again, no matter who they are. Where did Seerae and Keera go?’
‘Chasing the mob,’ said Liantha. ‘To make sure they don’t come back. The two of them shouldn’t be gone long.’
‘Let’s hope not,’ said Resling.
‘Yes …’ said Kullervo. ‘But we’d better go and see Roland now.’
The old man was in the back room that had been his home for decades. It was a small space, and sparsely furnished, but so badly cluttered that there wouldn’t have been room for any other furniture than what there was: a table with two chairs, two beds, and a cupboard beside a fireplace.
On the other hand, there was mess everywhere. Books were stacked haphazardly on the table and more stood in dust-covered rows on top of the cupboard. A large wooden chest stood open, not so much out of laziness but because the spare clothes spilling out of it would have made closing the lid impossible.
In any other circumstances it would have been an amusing and pleasantly eccentric sight, but when Kullervo saw the frail old figure lying in the bed closest to the fireplace, it felt more like a shrine, or a monument to a life that had fallen apart and would now never recover.
Roland was still unconscious, scarcely breathing, and on his forehead, blood had oozed and dried. The moment Kullervo looked at him, he knew that the old man would never wake up. He had seen the blow that had knocked him down, and now that he had seen the injury as well he didn’t need any more evidence to know it would be fatal. Roland had been weak enough already.
Kullervo knelt by his bedside, ignoring the resulting twinge in his leg, and touched the old man’s forehead. It felt frighteningly cold.
He looked back at the others. ‘Do any of you know about healing?’
‘I do,’ said Liantha. ‘But we have no medicines left, or ingredients for making them. People come to us for healing, you see, and by now …’ She shook her head and said more softly, ‘And anyway, I know there’s no point. Even if I had a full healer’s kit, there would be nothing I could do for him.’
‘No …’ Kullervo stood up, wincing. ‘I should go and check on Senneck.’
‘Be careful,’ Resling warned.
Kullervo nodded absently, and went back into the chick room. Seerae and Keera were there, both visibly out of breath.
‘So you did not die after all,’ Seerae said by way of greeting.
Kullervo tried to smile, and stopped when it made his face hurt. ‘Did you chase them all away, then?’
‘We have seen them off,’ said Keera. She looked positively excited at having finally seen some action. ‘They will not return, and if they do we shall kill them.’
‘They won’t,’ said Kullervo, hoping he was right. ‘But you should keep a lookout.’
‘We shall,’ Seerae hissed in annoyance.
Kullervo went off into the adult chamber, limping slightly. He felt sick with fear for Senneck’s sake, even after Liantha’s assurance that she was fine.
Senneck was where she had been before, lying motionless on her side. Kullervo ran toward her, but as she came into proper view he saw a great convulsion go through her lower body and realised that she was lying that way from exhaustion, not injury.
Senneck didn’t seem to notice him. There was congealed blood and muck on her hind legs, but Kullervo couldn’t see any sign of eggs. At least she did not look badly wounded; as Liantha had said, the only marks on her were some cuts on her face and one foreleg. Her attackers had been too poorly armed, and Kullervo had come quickly enough to save her.
Senneck’s eyes were half closed and her breathing was convulsive. She opened her beak wide as he watched, and gasped sharply as another contraction moved through her swollen belly.
Kullervo was not afraid. He moved closer to her and called her name.
Senneck’s eyes snapped open, and a faint hiss came from her throat. But she did not attack, or even try to get up. Clearly she was too exhausted to be a danger to anyone.
‘Are you all right?’ Kullervo asked.
Senneck’s reply was as gasping as her breath, and even drier than usual. ‘You … are alive. I am glad. So g
lad … I thought … and could not go to you …’
‘I’ll be fine,’ said Kullervo. ‘And the others are fine, except for Roland.’
‘Roland …’ Senneck’s blue eyes rolled backward as she convulsed again. ‘He is hurt …?’
‘He’s dying,’ said Kullervo. ‘I think they’ve cracked his skull.’
Senneck’s front paws scrabbled at the nesting material, as if for a moment she wanted to get up. ‘Cowards! If I had … could have … aaaahk!’ She sank back with a rasp of pain, front talons curling in on themselves with yet another contraction.
Kullervo went to her and put his hands to her head. ‘Senneck, calm down. Don’t worry about anything else; we’ll be ready if they come back. Just concentrate on getting through this.’
She bit weakly at his fingers. ‘I do not need … you must not …’
Kullervo ignored her. ‘I’m going to stay with you until it’s over.’
Senneck subsided again. ‘You cannot … help me.’
‘But I can keep you company,’ said Kullervo. ‘And anyway, I want to be here in case we’re attacked again.’
‘Then stay,’ said Senneck, and fell silent.
So Kullervo stayed. He sat beside her the entire night, murmuring to comfort her when he saw she was in pain, sometimes stroking her face. The others next door left them both alone, clearly much too cautious to risk disturbing Senneck as he had done. But he could hear them moving around and the murmuring of their voices, and that was enough to tell him they were fine.
Most of the time, he kept his eyes on Senneck. It was troubling but almost reassuring to see her so vulnerable. Since the start of their journey South together she had often been hostile, and argued with him again and again. Kullervo had forgiven her, of course — it was just her nature to be combative, and under different circumstances he would have bowed to her judgement. But now he was reminded that even she could need help and comforting, even if she was too proud to easily accept it.
It reminded him, too, of why he loved her.
Well before dawn, however, he began to fear for her as well. She had continued to struggle with her laying, but not a single egg had appeared, and she was growing steadily more and more exhausted, often falling asleep for short periods in between contractions. Kullervo had never watched a laying before, but his instincts told him this was not right. One egg at least should have come by now.
Dawn had begun to lighten the sky outside, and still Senneck had not laid. She had fallen asleep again, and Kullervo watched her.
While he sat there, watching in silence, lantern-light came suddenly into the room, hurting his eyes.
He stood up stiffly. ‘Who’s that?’
‘It’s Liantha. How is she?’
Kullervo shook his head. ‘She hasn’t laid anything yet. I don’t know …’
Liantha’s face was pale. ‘Roland just died.’
‘Oh.’ Kullervo felt numb. ‘I’m so sorry.’
‘He had a good long life,’ said Liantha. ‘I just wish it could have ended differently …’
‘I understand,’ said Kullervo. ‘And I’m sorry that I helped it to happen that way. I never realised anyone was following me.’
‘Don’t blame yourself,’ said Liantha. ‘You did your best.’
‘Thank you.’ Kullervo looked at her in silence for a moment. ‘What are you going to do now?’ he asked.
Liantha’s brow furrowed in a determined frown. ‘I’m Roland’s heir,’ she said. ‘This Hatchery is mine now. So I’m going to take charge and see what I can do to make things better.’
‘It sounds like a good plan,’ Kullervo said, as brightly as he could. He glanced over his shoulder and took a step closer to her. ‘Look … I don’t know if I should be asking this now, but is there anything you can do for Senneck? I’m sure it shouldn’t take this long.’
‘Layings sometimes do take a long time, Roland told me,’ said Liantha. ‘Though I’ve never seen one myself. But if there haven’t been any eggs yet at all, that’s not a good sign.’
Kullervo’s heart sank. ‘Then what can I do? Is there anything?’
Liantha thought it over. ‘You can try helping her to push,’ she said. ‘If you think she’ll let you.’
‘I will, then,’ said Kullervo. ‘Thank you. Now I think you should probably get some rest — you look like you need it.’
She smiled wanly. ‘Speak for yourself. Good luck.’
Alone again, Kullervo went back to Senneck. She was still asleep, but he had barely sat down again before she came awake with a cry. Another contraction had begun, and her claws scratched hopelessly at the ground.
Kullervo acted on impulse. He leapt into the nesting pen and straddled the prone griffin, wrapping his arms around her midriff. He could feel the hard shape of an egg under her skin, even covered as it was by layers of wrenching muscle.
He braced himself, and pushed it downward as hard as he could.
Senneck screamed and jerked her head toward him, but couldn’t reach him. Desperate now, Kullervo kept hold of her, and now whenever a contraction came he pushed with her, adding his strength to hers.
He was never quite sure whether his efforts did anything to help, but Senneck’s egg finally came not long after the sun’s first rays had begun to light the sky outside.
There was only one — but an egg so huge that it could just about have made three. Kullervo gently rolled it into the shelter of Senneck’s belly, and let her curl up around it and give it a weak sniff before she finally went to sleep — true sleep now.
Tiredness caught up with Kullervo then, but he had the strength to smile. ‘Rest now, beloved,’ he murmured. ‘You’ve done it.’
He chose the pen next to hers for his own sleeping place, but before he went to curl up in it he took one last look at Senneck as a ray of sunlight lit up her wing and flank.
The light touched the egg, too, but while it made Senneck’s feathers glow, it seemed to be sucked into the egg, as if nothing could ever truly light it up.
When Kullervo saw it, he felt his heart grow cold.
The egg was the biggest he had ever seen, and its shell was as black as the void.
TWENTY-SIX
FLYING IN PAIRS
The little group at the Hatchery gathered together at noon that day, and burned Roland’s body on a pyre outside the building. Other people in the city, seeing the smoke, came to investigate, and Seerae and Keera prepared themselves to fight. But these intruders were unarmed, and though they looked as gaunt as those who had attacked the night before, none of them were aggressive. They only gathered around the pyre in silence, not to warm themselves but just to watch.
Liantha, standing by with a sword strapped to her back, began to recite a prayer in Cymrian. It wasn’t one Kullervo knew, but Resling did, because he soon joined his voice to hers. And, around the fire, the new arrivals did the same, chanting the words in a kind of rough harmony.
‘Of earth born, and in fire forged.
By sunlight blessed and by cool water soothed.
Then by a breeze in the night blown away
To a land of blue skies and bright flowers.
Gryphus, the giver of life, accept this soul into your embrace.
As life is given to us by you, so it shall return, but well and faithfully used.
Receive our noble brother Roland now, we pray …’
Kullervo, listening, felt almost ashamed that he was there to hear them. He who had met Gryphus and rejected him, and rejected the faith that gave the South hope even here. But even though he felt alone and afraid, and wished he could believe the way they did, he knew that he would never be able to. His capacity to worship had become as stunted as his ability to breed.
But he shed tears for Roland — and for Liantha as well. He could imagine how she must be feeling, even though she herself didn’t seem to be crying. She would do it later, he thought, in private. Some people were like that.
For now she led the others in their praye
r, and in more prayers after it, and even sang one of the sacred temple songs that Kullervo had heard when he was small.
But she finished with a eulogy, spoken to the pyre as it burned lower. ‘Roland, you were more than a father to me — you were a father to this city. Once you were even a father to griffins like Senneck, who flew all this way after so long just to lay her own egg under your eye, like her own mother once did. All your life you helped people, no matter who they were. You were even a friend to the worst one of us, when he had no-one else left to turn to.’ Several people there muttered at this.
‘I’m only young,’ Liantha went on regardless, ‘and I don’t believe I’ll ever be as wise as you were. But I’ll carry on and remember the things you taught me, and let them guide me for the rest of my life.’
She drew the sword from her back, and held it point-down so the firelight was reflected in its rusting blade. ‘Once this sword belonged to your father. You passed it on to your apprentice when you were young, and after that it was lost. But it was found again, and now it has passed to me. I’ll carry it in your name, and one day I’ll pass it on to my own children, or to my apprentice, or whomever I believe is worthy to own it.’
Silence fell. The pyre had just about burned itself out by now, but no-one had left.
‘What will you do?’ one of the crowd asked. ‘Will you share your food the way Roland did?’
‘I will,’ said Liantha.
But before anything else could be said, someone else stepped forward, and not the one anyone would have expected.
Seerae. She pushed past Resling and Keera, and touched Liantha’s head with her beak. ‘Human,’ she rasped. ‘Look at me.’
Liantha turned. ‘Yes, Seerae?’
Seerae looked around quickly, as if making sure that all attention was on her. ‘I have thought long and hard, through yesterday and today, and through the night as well. I have decided.’
‘Decided what?’ asked Liantha.
‘I came here not to visit this foul ruin, or to guard my mother and her human,’ said Seerae. ‘I came here to find a human of my own. That human will be you.’
‘Me?’ said Liantha. ‘But …’
