by K J Taylor
‘Then sing it for me,’ said Saeddryn. ‘And teach me.’
Gwladus glanced at her friends. When none of them volunteered, she started the song herself. But soon everyone there had joined in.
Saeddryn looked on and listened. The song was in the old language, of course — the lost tribe didn’t speak anything else. But it was too rich and complex for her to join in, and she was too afraid of spoiling it to try.
As she listened, however, she slowly realised why she couldn’t make out the words properly. The language they were using was different. Not quite the old language, but something close to it. A different dialect, maybe, or an older form that had been forgotten everywhere else.
Saeddryn understood just enough of it to know that it was a song to the stars and the earth and the moon above all, the moon that watched and gave life to every animal and bird. Maybe there was something helping her to understand, something inside her that was part of what she had become. Or maybe it went even deeper.
Quite unexpectedly, she felt her one eye start to ache with unshed tears. Everything here, the song, the stone circle and the ragged tribespeople, carried her mind back to a time long ago, when her mother had been alive and she had been young, and life had been simpler and … happier?
Yes, she had been happy. Life had been hard, and her mother had been harder, but she had been happy then. She had had a purpose to believe in, and her whole life in front of her.
Saeddryn’s tears did escape then, just a little. Her eye moistened. ‘Spent my whole life tryin’ to be a real Northerner,’ she mumbled to herself. ‘But they were the real ones.’
Just be yourself, Arenadd advised. It’s easier.
The first of the adults-to-be arrived as the song ended. It was a young woman, naked and dripping wet, carrying the equally sodden corpse of a bird.
She laid the bird at Gwladus’ feet and said, ‘I have come to say farewell to childhood, and become adult.’
‘Then say your name to the wise woman,’ said Gwladus.
The girl came to Saeddryn. She looked almost blue from cold, but her voice was quite steady. ‘Myfina.’
Saeddryn did not smile. ‘Ye are welcome to come among the tribe, Myfina. Stand with them an’ wait until the moon is bright.’
In fact the moon had already appeared in the sky, but that wasn’t important. Stone-faced, Myfina took her place beside Gwladus and waited. The next of the supplicants had already appeared.
It was a boy this time, one of those who had trained with Caedmon. He also had a dead animal with him, but he presented it to Llygad instead, before giving Saeddryn his name. She said the ritual words to him too, with a touch of impatience as she watched out for Caedmon.
Three more arrived before Caedmon did, and when he came it was obvious why he had been slow: he had the carcass of a goat slung over his shoulders.
He dropped it at Llygad’s feet before going to his mother.
‘Caedmon,’ he said, as stone-faced as Myfina had been.
Saeddryn took a moment to look at him before she answered. Nearly a year on the island had changed him as much as it had her. He was lean and wiry now, with not a scrap of spare flesh on him anywhere. His hair had grown long, like his beard, which he had braided and tied with a bit of leather thong. There was no trace of weakness in his face or in the way he stood, covered in goose-pimples.
‘Ye are welcome to come among the tribe, Caedmon,’ Saeddryn said softly. ‘Stand with them an’ wait until the moon is bright.’
Caedmon gave her a nod, and joined Myfina. He finally smiled when he looked at her. She smiled back, and laid a protective hand on the small bulge that had grown between her hips.
The moon was well up by the time the last of the young people had arrived. Saeddryn had been counting to make sure, and once she had formally welcomed the last straggler, she began the ceremony at once.
The initiates stood in a group in front of her, by the fire, and she fixed them with her one-eyed glare and asked in a loud voice: ‘Why have ye come?’
‘To be initiated,’ they answered in ragged unison.
‘Do ye swear this in the name of the moon an’ the night an’ the stars, an’ the great god of the night who watches over us all?’ asked Saeddryn.
‘We do swear it,’ they said.
Saeddryn thought quickly. In the version of the ceremony she had been taught, she would now command them to submerge themselves in a pool of icy water. But they had already done that part by swimming to the island. So she skipped ahead to the next part. ‘Ye have bathed in the ice an’ so washed away childhood,’ she said in her best High Priestess voice. ‘Ye have proven yer worthiness an’ shown yer strength. Ye are ready to be marked as one of us.’
She held out a hand, and Gwladus gave her a small leather pouch. Inside were a large pot of blue dye and a pair of long bone needles. Saeddryn opened the jar and put the needles into the dye, point-first.
Then she beckoned to Caedmon. ‘Caedmon of the Deer Tribe, come to me now an’ receive the sacred marks.’
He stepped forward and stood silently in front of his mother. She stayed where she was, and held the jar while Llygad took one of the needles out of it and took Caedmon by the chin.
When the needle went into his forehead, Caedmon flinched — but only slightly, with a flicker of the eyelids. Most likely only Saeddryn noticed it, and she watched with pride as he stayed still and silent for the rest of the time.
Llygad worked slowly and methodically, dipping the needle into the dye between every usage. First he went over Caedmon’s face, inscribing an intricate spiral pattern over his forehead and then down over his cheek to his jaw, stopping at the point where his beard began. After that he added tattoos to his neck and the upper part of his chest as well. In the background, the adults and some of the other initiates began a low, humming chant.
Ooh, this takes me back, Arenadd murmured.
Saeddryn ignored him.
Once Caedmon’s tattooing was done, he was given a fur kilt of his own and allowed to stand with the adults by the fire. Saeddryn called Myfina forward next; she didn’t want to risk hurting her unborn grandchild by making her stand in the cold for any longer than she had to.
Saeddryn had expected Myfina to be less stoic than Caedmon, but the girl surprised her. She grimaced and shuddered under the needle — wielded by Gwladus this time — but didn’t cry out or try to pull away. Eventually she too was allowed to go with Caedmon. The adults around the fire had begun cooking the animals that had been offered up to them, and they shared the meat among themselves. Caedmon and Myfina ate too, but the remaining initiates had to wait.
Saeddryn moved on through the others, five in all, but the whole process took such a long time that the sun had begun to rise by the time the last of them had received their tattoos.
Then, finally, the whole tribe was free to eat the last of the food as one group, and joke and laugh among themselves. The formalities were done; from now on, it was time to have fun.
Saeddryn did not join in. She ate nothing, and, ignoring the invitations from the others, she moved away from the stone circle.
Oh, go on, said Arenadd. At least have something to eat. Just because you’re dead doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy yourself.
‘Shut up!’ Saeddryn hissed once she was out of earshot.
No need to be like that about it, said Arenadd.
Saeddryn sighed. ‘What’s got into ye, Arenadd? I never knew ye t’be like this when ye were ali — when ye had a body, I mean.’
Arenadd gave another ghostly shrug. I don’t feel pain or hunger any more, and I don’t need to sleep. Also, I float everywhere. I’m just saying that sort of thing tends to change your outlook a bit.
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Saeddryn.
All right, then, said Arenadd. You want to know the truth?
‘Go on.’
I can’t touch anything. I can’t change anything. Once I was a king, and now I can’t even speak with anyone, except you. You have no idea
how powerless I feel. And so …
‘So?’ said Saeddryn.
So I’ve accepted that and I’m letting myself relax. I have to tell you, it’s a lot more fun than worrying about everything all the time. Maybe dying was the best thing that ever happened to me.
Saeddryn shook her head. ‘I tell ye, Arenadd … joke about it all ye like, but dying wasn’t the best thing that ever happened to me.’
No, I wouldn’t have thought so. Arenadd drifted around her like a small black cloud, creating the faintest hint of a cold breeze. Not easy, is it? he asked softly. Living with the memory of your own death. Unable ever to be a proper part of the mortal world, knowing you’re not who you used to be. You can feel yourself twisting. Corrupting. Turning into something you would have hated and feared when you were alive. Becoming … evil.
‘Don’t say that,’ said Saeddryn.
Why not? Arenadd asked mildly. You’ve killed dozens of people since you came back, and not in fair combat. Slitting throats from the shadows when you can’t be killed by your victims anyway — not really the accepted strategy, is it? And you enjoy doing it, too.
‘I don’t!’ Saeddryn snapped.
Oh, don’t bother lying to me. I’ve seen your face. Killing’s the only thing that makes you feel alive any more. Forget wine or those yellow toadstools they use in Amoran — that’s the real rush for you now. Eh? Better than sex, isn’t it?
Saeddryn said nothing.
Don’t feel too bad, Arenadd added. It’s not really your fault. The Night God makes us this way. Makes our job easier, I suppose.
Saeddryn turned away.
Not how you thought it would be, is it? said Arenadd. And she’s not how you thought she would be either, is she? But nobody but us could ever really understand that.
‘Stop it,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I don’t want t’listen to this now.’
Arenadd didn’t seem to hear her. His faint voice had become even more distant. I remember when I was young … newly made, I suppose … I could still remember my life before I died. I thought I was still that man who fell, and I was so afraid. A mortal mind in an immortal body. Hadn’t grown into my powers yet, didn’t know who the Night God was or why she wanted me. But I’d discovered that I could kill, and I’d felt bloodlust for the first time, and it scared me. I hid away on a hillside and cried like a damn baby.
‘Ye cried?’ That wasn’t a thing Saeddryn could imagine him doing.
Oh yes. Several times. I also whined. But people do that when they’re scared witless and they can’t see any other way to go. Just count yourself lucky that you’ve got me, and the Night God never left you in the dark the way she did me … Are we going now?
The sudden question caught Saeddryn off-guard. ‘Aye, I suppose we are.’
You should go back and say goodbye to Caedmon, said Arenadd, with some of his old authority. And Myfina as well. This might be the last time you see them.
‘Yes, yes, yer right …’ Saeddryn turned around distractedly and started heading back.
But she didn’t have to go all the way back to the circle before she found Caedmon. He must have seen her leaving and gone after her.
He looked sickly pale in the grey light of dawn, and the congealing blood on his neck and face stood out darkly. ‘There you are,’ he said. ‘Aren’t you going to stay and eat with us?’
‘I don’t need food nowadays, ye know, Caedmon,’ said Saeddryn. ‘Best leave it for those that do.’
‘But it’s the night of initiation,’ he said. ‘You could at least stay and talk.’
‘Wasn’t in the mood for it,’ said Saeddryn.
Caedmon just stared at her, frowning slightly, and she knew she was disappointing him.
She smiled, and came closer to touch his forehead. ‘Ye did well. Ye were brave.’
Caedmon smiled back, hesitantly. ‘My skin was so numb after that swim I barely felt a thing. Maybe that’s why they made us do the swim first.’
Saeddryn chuckled. ‘I wondered the same thing when I was yer age. How’s Myfina?’
‘She’s well. Tomorrow we’re going to go over to the griffin island and see how Shar and Garsh are getting along. And what about you? You’re leaving again, aren’t you?’
‘I am,’ said Saeddryn.
‘Where to this time?’ asked Caedmon.
Saeddryn hesitated.
‘Tell me.’ There was command in Caedmon’s voice now. It made him sound so much like Arenadd that Saeddryn started.
‘I’ve had word,’ she said. ‘The man-griffin’s come back from his journey South. What’s more, he’s brought some new friends back with him.’
Caedmon gaped. ‘Not Southerners?’
‘Aye, Southerners. Griffiners, no less.’
Caedmon swore. ‘That piece of filth! Bringing those damned heathens back here … what are you going to do?’
‘What do ye think?’ Saeddryn growled. ‘He’s comin’ to Warwick with some of them, an’ that Senneck will be there too. None of them are leavin’ alive.’
‘Good,’ said Caedmon. ‘Kill the man-griffin first.’
‘Oh, I will. Trust me, I will. He and his murdering griffin have been outta my reach for far too long.’ Saeddryn smiled horribly. ‘Been a long time since I’ve been able to kill Southerners. I’ll be glad t’do it again.’
Caedmon had never even seen a Southerner before. ‘Don’t kill all of them,’ he said. ‘Let some of them get back to Malvern. They’ll probably want to run off back to their homes once they’ve seen what you can do. And they’ll take back the news that the North is still under the Night God’s protection. That ought to keep them away.’
Saeddryn smiled — a true smile this time. ‘Spoken like a true leader. I’ll let one or two get away. But Kullervo an’ Senneck are dead.’
‘Come back and let me know once they are,’ said Caedmon.
‘I’ll bring ye their heads,’ said Saeddryn. ‘A manhood ceremony present t’my favourite son.’
‘I’ll be proud to have them,’ Caedmon said grimly. ‘Good luck.’
‘I don’t need luck,’ said Saeddryn. ‘I have the shadows.’
She slid away.
THIRTY
STEEL JAWS
Saeddryn set out for Warwick at a leisurely pace — at least by her own standards. With her new powers she could travel at least as fast as a griffin in flight, and could cover more ground, since she didn’t need to rest, and was, if anything, even faster at night.
It meant that there was no need to hurry, since if she did she would probably reach Warwick before Kullervo did. But to make sure, she ordered Arenadd to go on ahead every so often and check.
Saeddryn was fast, but Arenadd was even faster, and he reported that Kullervo hadn’t arrived yet.
Saeddryn had calculated her travelling time with care, and by the time Warwick had come within one night’s run, Arenadd let her know that Kullervo had just landed. Six of his new griffiner friends had landed with him.
Think you can handle ’em? Arenadd asked teasingly.
Saeddryn had not stopped her effortless run while she listened to his news. ‘Easily,’ she said, and sped up.
She reached the walls of Warwick by morning and went to ground among the shadows of a dirt heap just outside. ‘Go in an’ tell me what they’re doing,’ she ordered.
Right away. Arenadd drifted off.
He returned a short time later. They’re mostly asleep. Must be tired out from the flight. Want to go in and stab ’em in their beds?
‘What about Kullervo?’ asked Saeddryn. ‘Is he asleep?’
Yes. Senneck too. Are you sure you don’t want to wait until they’re away from help?
‘No.’ Saeddryn’s eye narrowed. ‘We’ve got nothin’ to fear from guards.’ She drew her dagger. ‘Show me the way.’
All right. Let’s go.
The two of them slipped away, the one using the shadows and the other already invisible. The city’s front gate had just been opened, and Saeddryn went
in through it and on into the city.
People were already up and about. Everywhere she went she saw them. Bakers lighting their ovens ready for the first batch of loaves. Traders opening up shop. Guards arriving to take over a shift from their fellows who had stayed up all night.
But not one of them saw her, or even had an inkling that she was walking among them. A darker person than they, with a dark day’s work of her own.
The Governor’s Tower was locked at ground level, and guarded as well, by men who were far more heavily armoured than the ordinary guards out in the city, especially around the chest and throat. Saeddryn had visited this place plenty of times in the past.
But guards hadn’t stopped her then, and they didn’t stop her now. She ignored them completely and began to climb the wall. There were gaps in the stonework just wide enough for her slender Northerner fingers. They weren’t big enough for her toes, booted or bare, and the fingerholds would have been completely useless to anyone without unnatural strength and endurance.
Saeddryn had both, and she effortlessly pulled herself up the wall until she reached one of the lower openings, meant for griffins, and went in through it.
Hiding in a shadow, she whispered to Arenadd. ‘Show me the way.’
He did, as he had done a hundred times before, floating through the rooms and passageways and up the inside of the tower, along a route he must have worked out for her during his last few visits.
Following one step behind him, Saeddryn felt glad yet again that he was there. Once she had obeyed his commands, but now he was her faithful servant, and far more loyal to her than she had ever been to him. He never argued or tried to dissuade her from anything, and did everything she told him to instantly.
And more importantly, he was there for her. Without him she would have had no-one to talk to. By now ordinary people felt irrelevant to her. They could never understand. But Arenadd did, and if he had not been there she knew she would have felt terribly alone.
And now … now, at last …
Saeddryn gripped her dagger tightly and swore a hundred times, to herself, to the Night God, that on this occasion she would not fail. She would not leave Warwick until Kullervo and Senneck were both dead, even if she had to kill a hundred people to get at them. Her time as the Shadow That Walked had been far too long, and far too fruitless, and she would not let it go on any longer. Her eternal rest beckoned, and she would go to it having fulfilled her vow to her master. Then she and Arenadd would have peace at last.