by Chrys Cymri
‘The psalms?’ I asked hopefully.
‘Those plagues of blood and frogs. The man who fell on his sword when his army lost. And there was a splendid tale about fire raining down on two cities and a human turning into salt.’
Trust a dragon to remember the more violent bits of the Bible. ‘Did the missionary also explain about God sending his Son because he loves his creation?’
Raven yawned, exposing sharp teeth and a blue tongue. ‘She tried. We were bored by then.’
‘Maybe she can be sent to Caer-grawnt,’ I said, my mouth tasting as bitter as my words.
‘Why should she? You’re there.’
‘Not any longer.’ I sighed. ‘I’ve been sent packing. Just because I spoke out against cruelty.’
Light glittered across his blue-green eyes as Raven brought his gaze to me. ‘You must be very disappointed.’
‘Of course I am,’ I said. ‘I thought at least some of the congregation would listen to me.’
‘That’s not what I meant. Ever since you first came into contact with our world, haven’t you wanted to live here? And now, after only a few weeks, you’re being sent back to Earth. Back to your small parish, full of nothing more than fellow humans.’
I stared up at him. ‘You understand.’
‘Oh, yes,’ Raven said softly. ‘I understand failure.’
My words dried in my throat. I made my way to his side, picking my way carefully over the sand. The dunes were changing from pink to yellow as the sun rose further. I pressed a hand against his foreleg. His skin was as warm and soft as I remembered. ‘Please, don’t go to the Arctic again.’
‘Why? Would you miss me?’
‘Yes.’ My hand slid into my pocket, and wrapped around the pocketknife. ‘And I’d come after you again, but if it’s all the same to you, I’d rather not have to.’
A rumble went through his chest. ‘You are not the first human woman I’ve chased, Glorious Penny.’
‘I’d figured that out,’ I said, although his admission pained me more than I’d expected.
‘But none of them have been half as intriguing as you. And not one of them would have braved the Arctic to find me.’
A shout drew my gaze back to the camp. Peter was standing just outside the entrance tent, waving to gain my attention. ‘Breakfast!’ he shouted.
I waved back. ‘Coming!’
Sand shifted as Raven moved. ‘Shall I give you a ride back?’
‘No.’ And then I said aloud what I’d only thought before. ‘I want to wait until you’re no longer wearing a saddle.’
Raven arched his neck. ‘My dear Penny, do you long for the feeling of my skin between your legs?’
My face flushed. ‘That’s it, you’re definitely feeling better.’
Peter shouted again, ‘Breakfast! Before it’s gone!’
I watched him walk back into the tent square. Then Raven asked quietly, ‘Do you love him?’
My stomach shifted as uneasily as the sand beneath my boots. ‘He loves me. He’s said so.’
‘Indeed.’
Then Raven was tumbling down the slope of the dune, sand flying up and around his neck and legs. I dropped to my knees to prevent myself from following him. My hands stretched out, as if I could somehow arrest his fall. And then my heart rate slowed back to normal as I realised that his plunge had been deliberate. At the bottom of the slope, he unfolded his wings and used his forward motion to thrust himself into the air.
My own return to camp was more cautious. I had no strong dragon scales to protect me from sand burn. Several times I began to slide to one side or another, but somehow I managed to keep upright.
Peter handed me a can when I finally staggered into our tent. I took a sip, and nearly kissed him. ‘Coffee!’
‘It’s self heating.’ He grinned. ‘But I only brought six, so that’s your lot for this morning.’
I dug out the bananas I’d packed and added these to the oatcakes and cheese which rested on the small table. James was nibbling on an apple, Clyde was still inside his shell, and there was no sign of Morey. I straightened my shoulders and tried not to think of how much I wanted a shower. ‘Who won the wrestling?’
‘The owl-tiger one,’ James said. ‘And Peter owes me fifty quid.’
‘Should’ve stopped while I was behind,’ Peter said ruefully. ‘There were two runners up, an eagle-lion and an osprey-panther.’
The sound of wind rushing through wings made me cram the rest of my banana into my mouth. I lifted a tent flap to peer out. The clan was returning. They landed outside the square and streamed through the entrance. Blood flecked beaks and claws, and I wondered if they’d gone out hunting again or merely consumed leftover buffalo.
Morey flew to my shoulder. ‘The matriarch is ready to set us the final challenge.’
I wished my hip flask weren’t empty. ‘Wake up, Clyde. Time to go.’
‘I really hope it isn’t another hunt,’ James said as he picked up the snail and placed him into the carry case. ‘I’m so done with hunts.’ He slung the strap of the case over his shoulder and patted Clyde’s head. ‘No offense, boyo, but I’m happy to leave the slaughter of animals to you and the gryphons.’
The clan had organised themselves on one side of the square, the matriarch at the front. The three winners of the wrestling competition stood to her left. We straggled out to meet them.
‘Ac yn awr rydym yn dod i'r her olaf ar gyfer y grŵp rhyfelwyr,’ Ercwiff said. ‘Galwn am helfa diwethaf.’
‘It’s the last challenge for us,’ I translated for Peter and James. ‘And it’s another hunt.’
James groaned. ‘Of course it is. I just hope it isn’t in this desert. It’s already as hot as Vulcan out here.’ He gave a wink. ‘See what I did there?’
‘Cawn ni helfa geraint,’ the matriarch continued.
I hesitated. James prodded my arm. ‘What did she say? Live long and prosper?’
‘Something about a hunt of kin,’ I said slowly. ‘Morey, what’s that all about?’
My Associate’s claws dug deep, pressing through fleece and shirt to skin below. ‘No,’ he said in English. ‘No hunt of kin, Matriarch Grandmother. I gave a promise. I swore on blade and blood that no harm would come to any of my grŵp rhyfelwyr.’
Ercwiff hissed, and said in English, ‘You should know better than to make promises you cannot keep.’
‘This one I will keep.’ His body was a stiff negative next to my ear. ‘There will be no hunt of kin.’
‘Then the clan will not allow you to marry Taryn of Taexali.’
‘So be it,’ Morey said, his voice trembling with emotion.
‘Kin hunt,’ the osprey-tiger gryphon grunted. ‘There will be kin hunt.’
‘Promised, we were,’ added the owl-panther gryphon beside him. ‘We won the right. Hunt you there, or hunt you here, the hunt will happen.’
‘Morey,’ Peter said, ‘perhaps either you or the matriarch could explain.’
Ercwiff strode forward. ‘There is a testing place a day’s flight or a search dragon’s dive away from here. Water surrounds the land on four sides, three of salt, one of pure.’
‘In other words,’ Morey said tightly, ‘It’s a peninsula with a river running along one end. The prey is placed in the centre.’
‘In order to test the hunters’ tracking abilities, they are only taken to the place two hours later.’ The matriarch swept her gaze over our group. ‘The challenge ends when the prey has either touched the water, or has been brought down by beak and claw.’
Peter took a step forwards. ‘And what is the prey?’
‘Not a what, but a who,’ Morey said. ‘It’s to be one of us, one of my grŵp rhyfelwyr.’
My rather ineloquent ‘Pardon?’ was drowned out by Peter’s ‘Never’, James shouting an even louder ‘What?’ and Clyde’s trill of alarm. An eagle gryphon lifted his head and released a piercing cry, making my ears ring.
‘Not just any of you,’ Ercwiff said. ‘Either the wo
man or her brother. The grŵp rhyfelwyr is to decide.’
Peter’s hands had bunched into fists, but his voice was calm. ‘Why not me? I volunteer.’
‘Not close enough.’ Ercwiff’s dark eyes came to me. ‘Trahaearneifion has been sworn to Father Penny’s service. James is from the same tiercel and formel as Father Penny. My grandson’s connection to them is stronger than to you or to the malwen siarc. So it must be one of them.’
‘Then it’ll be me,’ James said.
‘No.’ I grabbed his arm. ‘I’m not letting you be hunted by gryphons. It’ll be me.’
‘Pen.’ He had to reach over Clyde’s head to pat my hand. ‘I’m sorry, but you’re like middle-aged--’
‘I’m only thirty-seven.’
‘And I go to the gym. You get puffed just going for a walk.’
‘I’m not allowing this,’ I said. ‘No way. Morey, do something.’
‘I have decided,’ Ercwiff said. ‘Be hunted there, or we start the hunt now and here.’
‘I’ll have a head start on this peninsula,’ James told me. ‘But none of us would have a chance here.’ He looked up at Ercwiff. ‘How far is the water from the centre?’
‘It’s around twenty miles as the gryphon flies,’ Morey answered. ‘But you’ll have to stay hidden so the hunters don’t find you. It’d take you at least two days to reach either the river or the sea.’
‘Then I need supplies,’ James said. ‘Food, water, that stuff. I need to go home and collect it.’
‘The hunt stops each day at sunset, and you’ll be brought back here every night,’ Morey said. ‘You just need enough for the day.’
‘I still want to go back to collect some things.’
‘Hunt now,’ the osprey-gryphon insisted.
‘We’ll permit your request.’ Ercwiff lowered her head to my brother’s face. ‘The hunt will begin tomorrow morning. You have until then to prepare yourself.’
James studied her, his face blank. I bit my bottom lip, desperate to know what was going through his mind. ‘What if I die in the hunt? I mean, not from a gryphon, but falling off a cliff or my heart stops or something? That means neither side has won. Seems to me that should be a draw.’
Ercwiff cocked her head, and took a moment to answer. ‘If your heart ceases to beat, you’ll be considered dead, and the hunt neither won nor lost.’
‘And the hunters would leave my body alone? If I dropped dead, I mean. Seems only fair. If they haven’t won, they shouldn’t get to eat me.’
At this rate, there would be nothing left of my lower lip. ‘Don’t talk like that, James.’
‘Agreed. The hunters will only rip you limb from limb if they catch you in the hunt. If you die for any other reason, they’ll leave your corpse alone.’ She snorted. ‘We prefer to eat fresh meat, not carrion.’
James nodded, as if coming to a decision. ‘Right. I’ll need a lift back to England. Can one of the dragons take me?’
‘Yes. And if you don’t return,’ the gryphon continued, ‘we will hunt Father Penny instead.’
‘Don’t worry, I’ll be back.’ James gave me an intent look. ‘Live long and prosper, and all that.’
I opened my mouth to register another protest. But Peter caught my eye. He gave me a long look, and pressed a finger against his lips. Then he turned to the matriarch. ‘May I go with him? To help him pull together what he might need?’
Of course. Peter would know whom to call back in England. They’d find some way to stop this nightmare. I tapped the side of my nose with my forefinger. I would keep his reason for going a secret from everyone else.
‘Granted,’ Ercwiff said. ‘But we want you back by sunset.’
James handed Clyde over to me, his eyes avoiding mine as he followed the older man to the exit. The snail shark looked up, his body pale. ‘It’s all right,’ I told him, trying to put a confidence into my voice which I didn’t feel. ‘They’ll work something out.’
The gryphons disbanded. Morey flew off after his grandmother. Perhaps to try to reason with her? I remained in the square until I saw Raven rise from the desert, Peter and James seated on his back. Then I returned to our tent.
<><><><><><>
The day passed slowly. I’d not expected any down time during our stay with the clan, so I’d not even packed a book. A dig through the pockets of my coat turned up a small deck of cards, a prize in last year’s Christmas cracker. I tried to teach Clyde a few card games. He turned out to be very good at ‘Concentration,’ finding more pairs than I did. When Morey returned, we were able to branch out into ‘Rummy’ and ‘Kings in the Corner,’ the gryphon holding the cards for Clyde.
I dug through the food for a light lunch. My stomach threatened to rebel at the thought of eating, but I knew that I had to keep my strength up. Only after I managed to keep down some cheese and nuts did I finally speak to Morey. ‘I’m not letting your family kill my brother.’
‘What can we do to stop it?’ Morey jumped onto the table. ‘The matriarch rules here. And she’s adamant that this is the challenge she’s chosen.’
‘But how is it a challenge of the group, if it’s James out there risking his life?’
‘Because we’ll be able to give him advice,’ Morey said. ‘The hunt will only occur during daylight hours, and we’ll be able to watch from the air. At sunset, we will all return to the camp, and be able to brief James for the next day.’
‘If he lives through the day.’
‘Have some faith in your brother.’ The sharpness in the gryphon’s voice made me take a step back. ‘He could survive the hunt. I did.’
‘You were hunted? By your own clan? When?’
‘When I had a week off at the start of Lent.’
I glared at him. ‘You said you were going on retreat.’
Morey’s wings lifted in a shrug. ‘I cut my ties to the clan when I married Seren. My grandmother decided I had to prove myself worthy by surviving the hunt. But look at it this way, Penny. I know what James is going to face. I can give him advice.’
Water. I needed water. The jug on the table still held some liquid, and I poured a mugful. ‘He’s my little brother, Morey.’
‘You have to let him grow up sometime.’ Morey’s tail lashed around his feet. ‘He handled himself well against the Tyrannosaurus rex. Have some faith in him.’
We spent several hours playing poker. Teaching Clyde how to gamble went against my better judgement, but Morey didn’t share my concerns. We pulled back one carpet so Clyde’s cards could be stuck into the sand. At first the colours pulsing through his body gave away the strength of his hand. But by mid afternoon, he’d learned to control his emotions. When I heard the sound of human voices, a pile of snacks rested next to his shell and Morey and I were down to our last few pretzels.
I rose to my feet as the tent flap opened. A welcome rush of cooler air came in, followed by James and Peter. My brother carried a mottled green and brown backpack. Camouflage trousers were tucked into leather boots, and he wore a long sleeved shirt of green and tan. He looked at me, nearly spoke, then shut his mouth and busied himself in one corner of the tent.
‘We tried,’ Peter told me quietly. ‘James spoke to your bishop, and I reached out to the Minister without Portfolio. Mrs Harkness told me there’s little she can do. What passes for government in Lloegyr doesn’t interfere in clan matters.’
‘Bishop Nigel drove out to the house,’ James said. ‘He said he’d speak to Bishop Aeron to see if there’s anything she could do. And we prayed together.’
The old expression about atheists and foxholes came to mind, but I managed to bite my tongue. ‘I’m glad he made the time to see you.’
‘He’s all right, Bishop Nigel.’ Finally James looked over at me. ‘Did you know he used to be an Army chaplain? Saw some things out in the field. He said it didn’t matter if I weren’t sure I believed in God, because God would always believe in me.’
‘I believe in you,’ I said hoarsely. ‘You’ll make it throug
h, James.’
‘I’d better.’ The ghost of a smile trickled around his lips. ‘There’s all those women who haven’t met me yet. Can’t let them down.’
‘Quite right, too,’ Morey said. ‘Now, James, time to talk tactics.’
<><><><><><>
Aodh had prepared another evening meal for us. As we sat near the fire pit, using heavy wooden spoons to eat a thick stew, he looked around our strained faces. Olafor said something to him in a low voice, and the blacksmith nodded. He disappeared into his own nearby tent. When he returned, he marched up to James and handed him a small dagger. ‘Here. Keep this strapped to your boot. Three blades against three gryphons.’
‘Thanks,’ James said unsteadily.
The camp was quiet when we returned to our tent. The others slipped into sleeping bags or curled up on carpets. My torch was still in my hand. I switched it on, and made my way back to the desert.
The stars were bright in the dark sky above me. And there, away from anyone who might hear me, I lowered myself onto the still warm sand and allowed myself to have a good cry. Tomorrow morning I would have to be strong for James, show him that his sister knew that he’d be all right. But tonight was for me.
Chapter Thirty
‘At least this means I don’t have to carry a lot of food,’ James said as he grabbed a banana and nuts from the small table. ‘I do have some high energy bars in the backpack, though, just in case.’
‘Remember what I told you,’ Morey said. ‘Gryphons have very poor sense of smell, so the hunters are going to rely on their vision to find you. And we don't see very well in dim lighting, so head to the forest to start with.’
James nodded. ‘But what about the owl gryphon?’
‘She’s diurnal, not nocturnal.’
Peter stood to one side, his eyes fixed in a middle distance. Then he walked across the tent to join us. ‘I can offer you this, James.’
I drew back as Peter held out a pistol. James lowered a hand onto the dark metal, his fingers curling for a moment around the grip. Then he shook his head. ‘I’ve never fired a gun in my life.’