by K J Taylor
Skandar shook himself. “Is good,” he agreed. “Like this place.”
“So do I.” Arenadd walked slowly around the circle, touching each of the stones. He could almost feel the Night God’s presence here, in her last surviving holy place.
He wondered, briefly, if Aeai ran kai would feel the same agony in this circle that he himself felt if he stepped inside one of Gryphus’ temples.
The others landed a moment later. Saeddryn looked around rather uncertainly at the sacred stones, but Torc stepped toward her and took her hand. She started, but didn’t pull away.
To Arenadd’s surprise, she smiled.
Arenadd spread his hands. “Welcome to Taranis’ Throne, Torc Taranisäii. This is where King Taranis was crowned, centuries ago when our people were all true warriors. And this is where I came to be initiated, and where I met the Night God for the first time.”
Saeddryn looked up. “Ye saw her here, sir?”
“Yes,” said Arenadd. “On the night of the Blood Moon, I met her in the circle. That was when she told me who I really was.”
“An’ after that ye ran away,” Saeddryn murmured.
“Yes,” said Arenadd. “Out of fear. But I came back.” He looked up at the sky, where the first stars were coming out. “I realised I couldn’t run away from my real self, or my god, or my people.”
Torc was watching him with an awestruck expression. “What do we do next, sir?”
“We wait until moonrise,” said Arenadd. “When the moon is highest in the sky, we’ll begin.”
Along time later, when night had closed in and the half-moon was directly overhead, Arenadd conducted the wedding ceremony while the griffins slept outside the circle.
He, Saeddryn and Torc had stripped to their waists, and wore nothing but simple fur kilts. Each of them had put on a mask. Saeddryn wore a wolf mask, and Torc a deer. Arenadd wore the griffin mask Arddryn had worn on the night she had initiated him into the Wolf Tribe.
Torc and Saeddryn stood on either side of the stone altar in the middle of the circle, and Arenadd, standing in front of them, began the ritual he had learnt from Arddryn, which he had never thought he would have any reason to use.
“May the moon and the stars and the night witness the union of two souls, who have chosen to unite in love and harmony before the bright eye of the Night God. The moon has turned and turned again since the beginning of the world, and now, with the coming of the Deer Moon—the moon of destiny—we have come before you, god of the shadows and the dark. May you bear witness to these two souls—Torc Taranisäii of the Deer Tribe, and Saeddryn Taranisäii of the Wolf Tribe—and give them your blessing.”
Torc turned to look at Saeddryn’s masked face, his own mask hiding the smile he was probably wearing. “Saeddryn Taranisäii of the Wolf Tribe,” he declared. “I have chosen your heart an’ declared my love, and I wish to spend my life with you.” He drew a copper knife from his waistband and held it up. “Witness my sacrifice to you,” he said and pulled it over the palm of his hand. Blood trickled out, and he handed the knife to Saeddryn.
She accepted it. “Torc Taranisäii of the Deer Tribe, I accept yer heart an’ yer love for me, an’ know I love ye in return an’ always shall. I take yer sacrifice, an’ offer mine.” And she cut her own hand and took, his so that their blood mingled.
Arenadd reached out and touched their clasped hands. “As the master of all tribes, and the one blessed and chosen by the Night God, I approve your marriage and seal it now. Saeddryn, come to me.”
Saeddryn let go of her husband’s hand and turned to face Arenadd. “My lord,” she murmured.
Arenadd picked up another mask from the ground beside him. “Give up the wolf,” he told her.
Saeddryn removed the wolf mask and held it out. As Arenadd took it, he caught a glimpse of her uncovered face, and saw the tears shining in her eye.
He put down the wolf mask and replaced it with the other, that of a doe.
Saeddryn accepted it.
“From this day on,” said Arenadd, “you are a member of the Deer Tribe, Saeddryn Taranisäii. May your husband teach you the ways of his people, and may they welcome you.”
Saeddryn turned away from him, and Torc took both her hands in his and held them silently.
Arenadd looked up at the moon, then back at them. “I now pronounce this marriage sealed,” he intoned.
They spent the rest of the night after the wedding in Taranis Gorge, in the shelters they had built while they waited for moonrise. Arenadd had made his a good distance away from the one Torc and Saeddryn would share; he had no wish to disturb them or for them to disturb him.
He lay on his back on the crude heap of brush he had used to make a bed and stared at the ceiling, his ears full of Skandar’s deep, rumbling breaths from just outside.
Gods, I wish I had something to drink, he thought, and eventually went to sleep.
Morning came, and he staggered out of his shelter, yawning and a little irritable. His dreams had been full of fighting, against a foe he recognised: the sneering, blond-haired boy and his arrogant, vicious griffin, always with the sun shining from behind them and into his eyes, blinding him.
It was a vision that had been troubling him for some time now.
The griffins were wide awake and complaining of hunger, but Torc and Saeddryn were slower to rise. They emerged eventually, both looking slightly embarrassed. Arenadd, watching them, wondered if they had consummated their marriage that night. If so, then they had probably both lost their virginity: Saeddryn had always been forbidden to involve herself with a man other than the fellow Taranisäii her mother insisted on, and Torc had been a slave since birth.
Well, it was none of Arenadd’s business. “Let’s go home,” he said.
The journey back to Fruitsheart passed uneventfully enough, and Arenadd was very glad when its walls came into sight.
As they passed over it, he noticed some kind of disturbance in the streets, which puzzled him.
When Skandar landed on the tower-top, Iorwerth and Kaanee were already there, running to meet them.
“My lord!” Iorwerth exclaimed. “My lord, thank gods ye’re back! Ye’ve got t’do somethin’!”
Arenadd almost vaulted off Skandar’s back. “What’s going on?”
Iorwerth paused to wipe his forehead. “They’re everywhere, my lord. I don’t know what t’do.”
“Who are everywhere?” said Arenadd.
“Blackrobes,” Kaanee interrupted. “Thousands of them. They came into the city somehow. They are everywhere, swarming like ants.”
“Black—you mean slaves?”
“Yes, my lord,” said Iorwerth. “Garnoc and Nerth are tryin’ to get things under control, but—”
Arenadd’s eyes had gone wide. “Slaves? Then—”
There was thump behind him, and he turned.
It was Hyrenna. “Arenadd Taranisäii, what have you done with my chicks?” she rasped.
Arenadd gasped. “Hyrenna! You’re back—where’s Skade? For the love of gods, where’s Skade?”
Hyrenna ignored him. “Where are my chicks?”
“Two of them are up there,” said Arenadd, pointing at Aenae and Iekee, who were still flying into the city. “Eerak should be around here somewhere. Hyrenna, where’s—”
“Here, you blind fool,” said a voice, and she emerged, from behind Hyrenna’s wing.
Arenadd stared at her. “Skade . . .”
Skade came toward him, smiling. “Arenadd.”
“Skade,” he said again, and then she was there in his arms, and he was kissing her fiercely, holding on to her so tightly it was as if he were trying to make her a part of him.
She held him in return, just as fiercely, her sharp nails digging into his back and giving him exquisite pain. “My love,” she breathed, and her voice was like music in his ears.
He didn’t let her go for a long time, and when he did all he could do was look at her face. “Skade,” he said, and laughed. “O
h gods, Skade. You’re back. Skade . . . my sweet Skade, I missed you so much.”
She laughed, too. “Oh, Arenadd. My Arenadd. I have wanted to die since we have been apart. But you are safe, and we are together again, and that is all that matters.”
He kissed her again. “Yes. That’s all that matters, Skade.”
Hyrenna, meanwhile, had been reunited with her chicks, or two of them at least. Aenae and Iekee looked at her with a kind of awe while she inspected them, sniffing their feathers and apparently searching for any signs of sickness or injury.
Finally, she straightened up. “You are fine, strong youngsters,” she announced. “You have been well fed and cared for. But where is your brother?”
“I shall find him,” said Iekee, and flew off.
“Where have you been?” Skade asked Arenadd. “Hyrenna and I came directly to the city with the slaves, but you were not here and we did not know what to do.”
“I’m sorry,” said Arenadd. “I was at the Throne, with Saeddryn.”
“Why?” she asked sharply.
“Conducting a wedding,” said Arenadd, missing her angry paranoia in his joy.
Skade stared at him in utter shock. “What? A wedding? Whose wedding?”
“Saeddryn’s, of course,” said Arenadd. He nodded at Saeddryn, who was looking at Skade with veiled but intense dislike. “While you were gone, she finally found a husband for herself.”
Skade’s shock and hurt began to twist into pure fury, but at that moment Torc nervously approached. “Hello, my lady,” he said. “I don’t know if you remember me, but I’m Torc. Uh . . . and . . .” He pulled himself together and took Saeddryn’s hand. “An’ this is my wife, Saeddryn,” he added proudly.
Skade looked blank. “You and Saeddryn were married?”
“Yes, just last night,” said Arenadd. “I conducted the ceremony myself.”
Skade stared at him, and then burst out laughing. “Oh! Arenadd, forgive me! I thought when . . . when you said Saeddryn had married, I thought you . . .”
“What?” said Arenadd. “No! Skade, how could you?”
She hugged him again. “I am sorry I doubted you. You have my congratulations, Saeddryn. And you, Torc.” She looked at Saeddryn with just a hint of triumph in her yellow eyes as she slid an arm around Arenadd’s waist.
Arenadd could see this was turning nasty. “Look, let’s go below,” he said. “We’ve got so much to talk about.”
“Yes,” said Skade. “We have.”
35
Preparation
“We were lucky,” said Skade, down in the dining hall with Nerth, Garnoc, Iorwerth, Saeddryn, Torc and the rest of the council there to listen. “If we had chosen any other time to buy those slaves, we would never have succeeded. But the whole of the South is afraid because of what is happening in the North.”
“We kept expectin’ them t’send help t’Malvern,” said Saeddryn. “Like they did last time.”
“They have not, and I doubt that they will,” said Skade.
“There is civil war in the South. The other Eyries fought each other for Eagleholm’s lands, and now the situation has devolved into outright war. What was once Eagleholm’s territory is now burning as those fools slaughter each other for the right to own what they are destroying in the process. They have utterly forgotten their cousins in the North.”
There was a pause, and then Saeddryn laughed. “An’ all because Lord Arenadd burned the Eyrie at Eagleholm! Hah! Sir, ye crippled the whole of the South with one burning tower.”
Arenadd allowed himself a smile. “Who would have thought it?”
“Not I,” said Skade. “Yet that is how it has happened. But the Southerners now expect to see strange griffiners flying everywhere, and they no longer want or trust their slaves. They were more than willing to sell them to me, at any price, for fear they would rise up and rebel as you have here. I doubt there is a single one left in Cymria who has not come with me to Fruitsheart.”
Arenadd chuckled. “And that’s that. The final step. We have our brothers and sisters back.”
“And next . . .” said Iorwerth. “Malvern.”
Arenadd looked around at the others, one by one. “Yes,” he said softly. “Malvern. The time has come. Our time.”
Saeddryn grinned horribly. “We’ll see that cursed city burn at last, sir,” she said. “In my mother’s name.”
“And I will meet Aeai ran kai and kill him at last,” said Arenadd. “The time has come. Now I’m ready.”
That same evening, Erian and Elkin sat together on the balcony outside her chamber, sharing a cup of wine in companionable silence.
Erian couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Gods, you’re so beautiful . He wanted to say it out loud, but he was too shy to break the silence. And besides, there was no need to say it. She knew how he felt.
He took in her pale green eyes and her fine hair, so blonde it was nearly white. Her features were so delicate he could imagine she were a wood sprite or a fairy rather than a human. Just looking at her made his heart ache magnificently inside him. Oh, how I love you, Elkin.
She caught his eye, and smiled. “You don’t know how much I missed you, Erian.”
Erian smiled back at her. “You can’t have missed me as much as I missed you, Elkin.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” she said softly. “I don’t know.”
He finally fought down his nervousness and reached for her hand. She didn’t pull away, and he clasped it, marvelling at how small her hand was. It made his look big and rough.
“Elkin,” he said. “I wish . . .”
“Yes, Erian?”
“I wish I could have been here. If only . . . if I could have come back sooner, if . . . if I could have been here to fight for you . . .”
“No. There was nothing you could have done without the sword,” said Elkin. “And if Gryphus wanted you to be gone so long, who are we to argue? Our god knows best. He always has, and he always will.”
“But what if I fail?” said Erian. “What if I can’t do it? What if . . .”
She reached out and touched his chest with her delicate hand. “You won’t fail,” she told him. “Because you have what the Dark Lord doesn’t: a heart.”
Erian smiled. “No I don’t. Not any more. I gave it to you a long time ago, Elkin.”
She smiled back at him. “You’re such a silly man sometimes, you know.”
“I—” Erian was suddenly embarrassed.
“Perhaps that’s why I love you,” she said, and kissed him.
The kiss seemed to last for a long time.
Erian withdrew gently, his blue eyes bright with love. “Marry me, Elkin,” he said.
That caught her off guard. “What?”
Erian took her hand and gently pressed something into her palm. “Take it,” he said. “I want you to have it. Marry me, Lady Elkin.”
It was a stone, uncut but beautifully smooth and round. It was blue. Blue as the sky, blue as his eyes. “Erian . . .”
“Please,” he said. “Take it. I want you to be my wife, Elkin. I want to marry you now, before it’s too late—while we still have the chance. Before the Dark Lord comes.”
She stared at him a moment longer, and then her fingers closed around the stone. “Yes, Erian,” she said. “You’re right. I will marry you.”
He leant toward her, eager. “When?”
“Tomorrow, at dawn.”
Erian wanted to laugh aloud, but he didn’t. He kissed her again instead.
And, in Fruitsheart, Arenadd and Skade were alone by the fire.
Arenadd held Skade’s hand in his maimed one, and she held on to his twisted fingers without flinching. “Don’t you wish we could get married?” he asked.
She laughed dryly. “No. Why should I? What would it mean to either of us? I am a griffin, and you . . .”
“I know,” he said. “Dead men don’t marry.”
Skade stared at him, a little uncertainly, but then he laughed and squeezed her
hand as well as he could.
“I know,” he said. “You’re right. It was just an idle question.”
She watched him pick up his cup and take a swallow of wine. “Torc said you have been drinking heavily since I left. The whole tower seems to know it.”
Arenadd put the cup down. “I know,” he said calmly. “They’re calling me a drunkard. Not that it matters. I only drank because I was lonely, Skade. Now you’re back I can give it up.”
“What of the nightmares?” she asked. “Do they still trouble you?”
In fact the dream of the battlefield still came to him every now and then, but he shook his head. “No, no. I’m fine now. I’m . . . more peaceful now.”
“I am happy to hear it,” she said. “You deserve to sleep peacefully.”
Arenadd grinned wickedly. “With your help, I’m sure I will.”
“Oh?” She raised her eyebrows archly. “Is that a suggestion?”
“If you’d like it to be, Skade. If you’d like it to be.”
She made a show of considering it, and finally clicked her teeth. “I am not one for words like you are. Actions have always served me just as well.”
“I noticed,” said Arenadd.
Skade grinned in a predatory way and pounced on him. To anyone else it would have looked like a fight, as he pushed back at her to get out of his chair and she wrestled with him as if trying to pin him to the ground, but as they grabbed and shoved at each other their heads darted inward and they kissed each other again and again, more and more violently, their struggle half an embrace. Skade slashed at Arenadd with her claws, and he moaned softly in pleasure and kissed her again, hard, almost as if he was trying to hurt her.
The struggle finally ended when Skade made a sudden lunge that caught Arenadd off guard and knocked him onto the floor. He tried to get up, but she pinned him down.
They stared at each other for a moment, their eyes burning as if in hatred.
“No-one else could ever make me surrender,” Arenadd said softly. “No-one, Skade. Never.”