The Shadowed Throne

by K J Taylor

  “Everyone likes a good villain,” Nerth said wisely. “This half-breed’s ours. Just stay patient.”

  Saeddryn smiled slightly. “If ye want to put it that way. Now then, has anyone else got news for us?”

  “One of our griffiners snuck out of the city early this morning,” said Morvudd. “He got away before anyone could stop him.”

  Saeddryn swore. “Where was he going? Not t’join the Queen, surely?”

  “No chance,” said Morvudd. “Don’t worry.”

  “Why are ye so certain? Who was he, anyway?”

  Morvudd smiled. “My son, Gethen. I can trust him, and he left a note besides. He’s gone to look for the King.”

  “Another one!” Penllyn exclaimed.

  “He knew you wouldn’t let him go, holy one,” Morvudd said. “That’s why he never asked permission. I’m sorry.”

  Saeddryn slid a finger under her eyepatch and rubbed the scar beneath. “A hundred people must’ve set out to look, an’ not one has found him. Gethen won’t have any better luck than them. The King doesn’t want to be found. An’ we need all the griffiners we can find.”

  “I’m sure he’ll come back soon,” said Morvudd.

  Nerth was frowning. “I can’t help but wonder if the King returned . . . whose side would he choose?”

  “The side he always chose,” said Penllyn. “His own.”

  “If the King were here, this wouldn’t be happening,” Saeddryn said sharply. “Now, if we’ve done talking, we should get going. There’s work t’be done.”

  “I wish to fly over the city again, to watch for danger,” Aenae said. “Come, Saeddryn.”

  He left without waiting for her. Saeddryn nodded to the others, dismissing them, and went out through another door. She hadn’t gone far when she heard someone coming up behind her, and glanced over her shoulder to see Nerth limping up to join her.

  She slowed to walk beside him. “How are ye, Nerth?”

  “Getting old,” he said. “Getting tired. It’s what I do. They should call me the Master of Old an’ Tired.”

  Saeddryn chuckled. “Ask Arddryn or Caedmon when he’s on the throne, I’m sure they’ll be willin’ to give ye any title ye choose.”

  “Hm.” Nerth pulled his fur-lined cape over his shoulders, covering his arms. “If I live that long.”

  They reached the old man’s own quarters and went inside to sit by the fire. Saeddryn kept watching the flames. The lines on her face had deepened and turned darker with shadow, and the patch on her eye looked like a blank hole.

  “I watched ye grow up, Saeddryn,” Nerth said gently. “Other people might see the mighty warrior, or the High Priestess, the royal Taranisäii, but I remember the tiny girl who only wanted her mother to hold her, an’ love her.”

  Saeddryn said nothing, but her mouth tightened.

  “She never did, though, did she?” Nerth went on. “She stayed in them mountains all those years, an’ never saw how beautiful her little daughter was. I know that’s why ye fight, Saeddryn. I know that’s why ye never give an inch. It was all for her, wasn’t it?”

  Saeddryn rubbed her upper arm with her hand, as if trying to warm it. “I just want t’be there for my children. They deserve the best I can give. The North is theirs by rights.”

  “I think most of us reckon ye plan on making a Queen out of yerself,” said Nerth. “It’s what I thought.”

  “No. I’m too old, Nerth. I wanted the throne, but not for myself. Not any more. I know I won’t live to see this through.”

  “Come on now, Saeth,” said Nerth. “Yer half my age an’ I’m still goin’ strong.”

  “No.” Saeddryn was holding both her arms now, wrapping them around herself and hunching closer to the fire. “I’m going to die. I can feel it. The cold is in me, an’ I can’t make it leave me. I thought maybe I was sick, but now I know. It’s my death. The Night God is waiting for me.”

  Nerth touched her shoulder. “Don’t talk like that. Yer Saeddryn! Saeddryn the holy woman, the great hero! They sing songs about all the brave things ye did. Tara loves ye. Believes in ye. An’ so do I.”

  She smiled and reached out to touch him affectionately. “The Night God won’t come for me yet. Not yet. Not until I’ve done what I have to. She has one more task for her Saeddryn.”

  “Aye, so she does,” said Nerth. “An’ I’ll be here with ye t’see it through. I’ve been with ye this long, an’ this will be my last task.”

  Saeddryn still looked sad. “I just wish Arddryn were here, an’ Caedmon. I miss them.”

  “They’ll be here soon.”

  Neither of them mentioned Torc even though they were both thinking of him. Saeddryn rubbed her dead eye again, and a shudder of guilt went through her. But there was nothing she could do.

  Kullervo and Senneck flew, following the river north. Kullervo went slightly ahead, proudly refusing to ride Senneck’s slipstream, and she kept politely behind him even though she was the more powerful flier.

  She watched him, with his slender grey wings rocking slightly as they adjusted themselves to correct him in the air. In griffin form, he was much smaller than she had expected, but she supposed that it made sense. Changing shape would take enough energy as it was, without making him grow larger as well. In fact, she had estimated that, ignoring the wings, he was the same size now that he had been as a human. Most likely he would never get any bigger. He would be stuck looking like a half-grown youngster for the rest of his life. How humiliating.

  Not that Kullervo seemed to care. From all she had seen of him so far, he was immune to feelings of embarrassment. There was something to be said for that.

  Abruptly, Kullervo slowed his flight. A moment later, he tilted himself and dove for the ground. Startled, Senneck overtook him, wheeled around, and followed. She couldn’t see any signs of danger, but she decided to trust him.

  The land below them was forested, not densely thanks to the village close by, but there was plenty of cover. Kullervo landed with a crash in the branches of a willow tree. Senneck saw him clinging to his bouncing perch as she touched down on grass.

  Kullervo hopped down from his tree and went to the river to drink. From his calm behaviour, Senneck guessed that he hadn’t decided to land because of any danger.

  She relaxed and went closer. “What is wrong? It is too early in the day to stop.”

  Kullervo threw his head back to swallow. Beak dripping, he turned to look at her. “I know, but I think we should wait until tomorrow before we go on.”

  “Why? Are you tired?”

  “I’ve seen Warwick,” said Kullervo. “It’s not far ahead. We could get there before dark, but I think we should wait here and make sure we’re well rested before we go in.”

  Senneck sat on her haunches. “That is a sensible plan. Do you think there is food here?”

  “Maybe. Try the riverbank; there could be frogs.”

  They had both eaten plenty before they left Malvern, and the meat in their guts had been enough to sustain them this far. Despite that, they both set out to forage for a few bites to keep them going. Kullervo tried the riverbank, and did indeed manage to catch a frog or two, along with a crayfish, which he scooped out of the water with his talons. Senneck disliked getting her paws muddy, so she went further inland and tried the trees.

  Her sense of smell led her to the burrow of a ground-bear. Normally, digging one up was too tedious to bother with, but she was in the mood for some sport. She ripped the ground up with her talons, biting through the roots of the tree that grew above the burrow. When she was far enough into the earth, she thrust her head down into the remains of the hole and dragged the bear out. It fought back, kicking at her face with its own formidable claws, but she broke its spine with a few quick blows.

  Excited by the hunt, she threw the corpse around and batted at it with her forepaws, and ev
en tossed it into the air to catch it in her beak. She played like this until she heard herself and realised she was making little squeaks and chirps like a chick.

  Embarrassed, she ripped the bear’s belly open and pulled out the innards.

  Kullervo found her while she was in the midst of her meal, but he wisely kept his distance until she had finished eating.

  Senneck rolled onto her side and lay there contentedly, tail flicking. “We will move away from here to sleep,” she said, as if nothing had happened. “It is not good to sleep where there is a smell of blood.”

  “I agree,” said Kullervo. “It gives me bad dreams.”

  “I meant that the smell would draw other griffins,” said Senneck.

  “Oh yes. Of course.” Seeing that she was showing no signs of wanting to move just yet, Kullervo stood up on his hind legs and began to sharpen his talons on a handy tree.

  “So,” said Senneck. “Tomorrow, we shall find the traitors.”

  “If everything goes to plan. Listen, Senneck—you don’t have to come with me.”

  “But I shall.”

  “You can; it’s just that I want you to be s—I mean, if I don’t get out, then you can go back and tell Laela.”

  “I shall come with you,” Senneck repeated. “And we shall both tell Laela.”

  He gave in, hastily bowing his head to show her superiority to him. “I trust you to keep me safe. Just please don’t attack anyone. Even Saeddryn.”

  “I am not a fool,” she hissed. “To attack her there would be death.”

  “Of course. I said I trust you, and I do.”

  “Then you trust far too easily.”

  Kullervo said nothing to that.

  Later on, toward nightfall, they moved away from the bear’s remains and found a hollow between two trees. They settled down there, lying side by side for warmth. Normally, two griffins would never sleep this way unless they were mates or family, but Kullervo knew very little about griffish customs, and Senneck seemed to think of him as human anyway.

  They groomed and drank before retiring, and lay together in silence the way griffins usually did.

  Kullervo watched the stars come out. “Senneck?”

  She moved her head to show she was listening.

  “There’s something I want to tell you. I might not have, but . . . in case something goes wrong tomorrow, and I don’t survive, I thought I should tell you.”

  “Yes?”

  “It’s important,” Kullervo said. “I’ve never told anyone else, not even Laela. But I feel that . . . that you . . . that I can tell you.”

  “Speak, then,” Senneck said, typically brusque.

  “I’m . . .” Kullervo curled his talons together, and braced himself. “I’m Arenadd’s son.”

  Senneck went quiet.

  “I’m sure of it,” Kullervo said, words rushing out of him now. “I never knew him, but I’m sure of it. I was born in the South. A woman came to a place near Withypool. She had yellow eyes, like mine, and claws instead of fingernails. She was pregnant. But when she gave birth, she gave birth to an egg. My egg. That woman—my mother, wasn’t human. She was a griffin. A griffin who took a human lover. My father. Her name was Skade. The one they called the wild woman of Withypool. And Skade only had one lover. Arenadd.”

  There was a rustling, as Senneck stood up. She put her beak toward Kullervo, thrusting it into his feathers and huffing angrily. “Your scent. I knew that I knew your scent! And your eyes. You have your mother’s look.”

  “You knew her?”

  “Yes. I was there when she was a prisoner at Malvern. I went with Erian when he took her away, to be released. Kraeai kran ae offered himself up in her place. We captured him, and let the female go free. We knew nothing of who she was. But when the rebels rose up and began to kill, she was there by Kraeai kran ae’s side. The only one on their side who was not the same race as the rest. The mate of Kraeai kran ae.”

  “The only one he loved,” said Kullervo. “He never knew that she had his son. She abandoned me and never told anyone I existed.”

  “She did not want a deformed hatchling,” Senneck said.

  “No.”

  The sandy griffin shifted around, apparently thinking. “You did not tell the half-breed Queen that you are her brother?”

  “No. I haven’t told anyone.”

  “But you have told me,” said Senneck.

  “Yes. And I want you to keep it a secret, too. Please, can you do that?”

  Senneck said nothing.

  “But if I die,” said Kullervo, “then tell her. Tell Laela. Please.”

  Unseen in the dark, Senneck’s eyes narrowed. “I will tell no-one,” she said at last. “Unless you die. You have my word.” She came and lay down by Kullervo again, her flank pressing against his. “And I will stay with you. No human or griffin shall ever hurt you while I am alive. That is my promise.”

  “Thank you, Senneck. I knew I could trust you.”

  “And so you can,” she said softly. “Always.”

  When morning came, Kullervo and Senneck set out for Warwick. They made the short journey in silence, keeping close together, and when the walls were about to pass beneath them, Senneck went ahead and circled upward to fly just above Kullervo, ready to defend him.

  When they passed over Warwick’s walls, both of them saw the huge spear-launchers, some half-built, that had been set up all along the ramparts. The completed ones were manned and loaded, and one or two of them swivelled on their bases to follow the intruders. Senneck, using some trick that Kullervo had never seen done before, angled herself downward to shield his back with her body. But none of the spear-launchers fired.

  Kullervo didn’t relax. Ahead, he could see griffins, circling over the tower. Already, they were reacting to his presence. Some flew down to land on the tower, ready to defend it. Dozens more came straight at him, screeching challenges. Wisely, Kullervo didn’t screech back. He flew slowly and carefully, keeping his talons curled in.

  The other griffins were already on them. Saying nothing, they swarmed around, wings pressing in on Senneck and Kullervo. They didn’t attack, but when Senneck opened her beak threateningly, one smacked her in the head with his talons. Two others came in even closer, forcing her downward.

  “Land!” one called at last. “Land now!”

  They had no choice. The Warwick griffins kept on, herding them toward the tower.

  Kullervo’s heart was pattering against his rib cage. Fear made him clumsy; he nearly fell when he landed, looking around frantically for Senneck before he had recovered. She landed, too, more gracefully, and took a step toward him.

  Something huge and heavy smashed Kullervo’s head into the ground. He cried out, but talons wrapped around his neck, pinning it down. Griffin beaks snapped shut around his wings, breaking the feathers.

  “Hold still, or we will break your wings,” a voice rasped.

  One of Kullervo’s eyes was being crushed into the stone beneath him. The other swivelled desperately, catching a glimpse of Senneck fighting as she, too, was captured.

  “Intruders,” the voice said. “Are you here to fight?”

  “No!” Kullervo’s beak couldn’t open properly. “Message,” he garbled. “From the Queen!”

  The talons loosened on his neck. “You come from the runt and her half-breed?”

  “Yes,” said Kullervo. “They sent us. A message. For Saeddryn.”

  Something tugged at the message-holder. “What is this?”

  “The message. Leave it alone. It’s for Saeddryn.”

  “Let us go!” Senneck’s voice rose out of the hubbub. “We are not here to fight, you fools.”

  “Let go of his wings,” Kullervo’s captor ordered. The other griffins obeyed, and the talons let go of his neck.

  Kullervo dragged himself upr
ight, and found himself looking at a huge male griffin, whose pale eyes were fixed on him. Instinctively, he bowed his head. “I am Kullervo. I am not a fighter.”

  “I see that,” the big griffin mocked. “Weakling. But your companion—who is she?”

  “Only an old one, Aenae,” another griffin said.

  Senneck shook off the talons holding her. “I am Raak,” she lied. “I came with Kullervo to protect him. And you—” she huffed at Aenae. “You seem familiar.”

  “I am the son of the Mighty Skandar,” Aenae said arrogantly. “And I am the rightful master of this land. Speak more respectfully to me, old one.”

  Senneck regarded him. Then, to Kullervo’s astonishment, she lowered her head. “I am humbled to meet you, Mighty Aenae.”

  “Better,” said Aenae. “Now, messenger. You will give me this message, and I will take it to my human.”

  Kullervo screwed up his courage. “Take me to your human, and I’ll give it to her.”

  “You are not here to tell me what I must do,” Aenae threatened. “This is my territory, and you will do as I say.”

  “This message is only for Saeddryn,” said Kullervo. “And besides, only human hands can remove it.”

  Aenae reached down and tried to snatch the little cylinder, but the straps held firm.

  “Only Saeddryn can remove it,” said Kullervo.

  Aenae regarded him for a moment, unblinking. “Very well, then,” he said at last. “Come with me. And I promise you—if you do one thing that I do not tell you to, I shall kill you.”

  “Raak should come with me,” said Kullervo.

  Aenae barely glanced at Senneck. “The old one will stay here.”

  “Don’t hurt her,” said Kullervo. “Please. She’s no danger to any of you.”

  “Go,” Senneck called. “I will wait here for you.”

  Kullervo allowed himself to be led away, but he kept his eyes on her until she was out of sight. He hoped she would be safe.

  Aenae went through an opening in the tower roof, forcing Kullervo to go ahead. He passed rows of other griffins, who snapped at the shape-shifter and chirped amusement when he jerked away from them in fright. Two of them followed Aenae down into the passage.