by K J Taylor
“By gods,” said Kerod. “That must have been a sight to see.” He scratched his chin. “The stories about him being a griffiner are really true, then.”
Erian nodded. “I never saw his partner, but I know her name was Eluna. He came back to Eagleholm on the same day I arrived.”
“So, you’re Lord Rannagon’s son?” said Kerod.
“I am, my lord.”
“That’s a lineage to be proud of,” Kerod remarked. He yawned. “I don’t doubt we’ll work well together. Lady Elkin seemed to think you were a promising young man.”
Erian brightened up. “What can you tell me about her? I’m—I’m curious about her, and Kraal, too.” He cast a quick glance at Senneck, but she was crouched on the far side of the room with Eekrae, apparently deep in conversation with the other griffin.
Kerod poured himself some wine. “I take it you were surprised when you saw her?”
“Well, yes,” said Erian. “I had no idea. When I came here I was expecting—”
“Some old lady in velvet?” said Kerod, grinning.
Erian thought briefly of his aunt, Lady Riona, and her aged dignity. “Honestly, yes.”
“That’s what they all expect,” said Kerod. He took a swallow of wine. “Hmm, good vintage, this. Try some. There’s a little bit of a story behind that, if you want to hear it.”
“Oh, please tell me,” said Erian, helping himself to some wine. “I’d love to know.”
“All right, then. It all starts with Kraal, really. Most of the griffins living here were born in the North, but nobody really knows exactly where Kraal came from. I was just a boy when he came here, and he was huge even then. It’s said he spent most of his earlier life flying from city to city, going wherever he chose. Supposedly he’s the biggest griffin ever seen in Cymria. Powerful, too. Powerfully magical. Powers even other griffins are afraid of.
“Anyway, Kraal didn’t have a partner, but everyone knew that if he ever did choose a human for himself that human would become a Master or Mistress straight away. But he wouldn’t choose anyone. People said he was so powerful he thought he was above that sort of thing, and can you really blame him? He lived in the North for a while, visited Malvern a few times, but never stayed long. And then one day, one day—completely out of the blue—he chooses someone. And it’s not a great lord or a mighty warrior; instead it’s Lord Hemant’s sickly daughter. Only twelve, and nearly mute. Most people thought she was touched in the head and wouldn’t live to marry.”
“Elkin,” Erian breathed.
Kerod nodded. “But after Kraal chose her, everything changed. She started speaking, she got stronger and—well, you know the rest. She was made Mistress of the Eyrie the instant Lord Anech died, a year or so later.”
Erian gaped at him. “She was—she became an Eyrie Mistress when she was thirteen?”
“Don’t be fooled,” Kerod said sharply. “I know what you’re thinking. Many, many people here were against it. They said it was insanity letting her become Mistress. But Kraal had chosen her, and nobody dared stand in his way. It didn’t take long for us to see what was going on—or think we saw, anyway. We thought he chose her because she was tiny and weak, so he could make every decision for her and she would do as he said. Of course no griffiner would do anything without consulting their griffin, but an Eyrie Mistress completely controlled by her partner? Unthinkable.”
Erian thought of Senneck’s threats at Herbstitt. “Yes.”
Kerod shrugged. “But we were wrong. All of us were wrong, and we were proven wrong less than a week after Elkin was named Mistress. That girl—that girl has the finest mind I have ever seen in my life. The whole taxation system we have now—all her idea. She reorganised all the trade routes, renewed the most important relations with our neighbours. We had plenty of officials who weren’t doing their jobs properly. They were lazy or incompetent or corrupt, but they came from good families or had money, and Anech hadn’t dared do anything because he couldn’t afford to have them turn on him. Well, that’s not a problem any more. They’re all gone. Elkin booted every single one of ’em out of office or forced ’em to reform, and when some of ’em tried to rebel they didn’t last half a day.”
Erian listened. “She gave you your post, didn’t she?”
“That she did. I’m only from a minor house, see, which means I couldn’t get much in the way of status. Eekrae and I spent our time working for the Master of Farms, flying around the villages and talking to farmers and so on. But Elkin showed the old Master the door, and gave us his place.”
Erian grinned. “Now I think I understand why you like her so much.”
A shrug. “What did you think of her?”
That caught Erian off guard. “Oh. Well.” He thought about it for a moment. “I was surprised at first, when I saw her. Kraal—he scared me. Scared both of us, actually. I didn’t think Senneck was afraid, but afterward she confessed to me.” He glanced at her, hoping she wasn’t listening in. “She said he was the biggest griffin she’d ever seen, and she spent the whole meeting thinking about how he could tear her head off in one go if he wanted to.”
Kerod grinned. “Yes, most people think that sort of thing around him. Griffins too, probably. And Elkin? What did you think of her?”
“My lord, I liked her,” Erian said. The words seemed to fall out of him, taking him by surprise, but he knew they were the truth. “Is she betrothed?” he added, without thinking.
“Not so far as I know,” said Kerod. “She tends to keep away from men. She will have to marry eventually, though. When it suits her.”
Erian wished he hadn’t asked, and drank some more wine to cover the moment. “We talked for a long time,” he said. “She asked me questions about where I’d come from and about what happened at Eagleholm. It was like—well, it wasn’t like having an audience with an Eyrie Mistress at all. It was like chatting to a friend. And then she told me I could stay, just casually, like it was nothing at all, and said she wanted me to become your assistant.”
Kerod nodded. “Surprised you, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Erian. He smiled involuntarily, remembering it. He and Senneck had discussed it afterward, and though the griffin had misgivings, he knew what it must mean. Elkin hadn’t spoken to him like an underling but like a friend. She liked him, and that was why—
“She’s very clever,” said Kerod, interrupting his thoughts. “See, she talks to everybody like that. It’s her way. How did it make you feel?”
Erian gaped at him. “Uh—I—uh—relaxed? Welcome?”
“Exactly. She put you at your ease, acted like a friend. She isn’t one to interrogate people or scare them into giving her information. She charms them instead, makes them want to tell her things.”
Erian crumbled inside. “Oh.”
“Fooled you, didn’t she?” said Kerod. “You didn’t even realise she was doing it, did you?”
“No,” Erian mumbled.
“Not many people do,” said Kerod, in what he probably thought was a reassuring voice. “I told you she was clever.”
Erian realised that Senneck was giving him a warning glare. “Yes indeed, my lord. It will be an honour to serve her.”
“No need to call me that,” said Kerod. “Kerod will do fine. We’re equals here, Erian.”
That cheered him up very slightly. “Of course, my l—Kerod.”
Kerod yawned. “Well, if you’ve finished eating then we should probably make our way back to the office an’ see if we can’t get some work done.”
Erian was still hungry, but he nodded anyway. The prospect of spending an afternoon thumbing through the Book of Farms was a dismal one, but Senneck had already impressed on him the importance of making a good impression as quickly as possible.
Back in the office, Kerod sat him down at the desk and gave him a more thorough explanation of how he was to use the book. He had to go through it and check each entry against the stack of reports that had been brought in for that month, to see
if each village still had its full complement of each resource. It was a tedious process, but straightforward enough, and once Erian had grasped it Kerod said, “And there you go. Now I’ve got some papers to sort through while you’re doing that.”
Senneck had been standing silently behind Erian’s chair while all this was going on, listening to everything and ignoring Eekrae, who was watching her hopefully from a spot by the door. Erian, well aware of her watchful gaze, dipped the reed stylus in the ink and set to work.
Senneck stayed where she was for a long time, occasionally pointing out a mistake or helping him find something in the endless lists of figures. Eekrae, bored, dozed beside the door, and Kerod wandered here and there, rifling through cupboards in search of something or other. Eventually he looked up at the two of them and said, “That’s a helpful griffin you have, Erian. I couldn’t get Eekrae to do that if his life depended on it.” He grinned when Senneck looked up at him. “Doesn’t like to let you out of her sight, does she? What is she, your partner or your nursemaid?”
Erian flushed. Behind him, Senneck dug her talons into the wooden floor and hissed very quietly, so quietly that Kerod probably didn’t even hear it.
“She wants to make sure that—well, we’ve only just become partners,” said Erian, hastily stopping himself in mid-sentence. “You know how it is.”
“Yes, I remember well enough,” said Kerod. Another grin. “Takes a while for you to get bored with each other.”
Senneck seemed to have decided that she was embarrassing her partner, and abruptly stepped away from him. “I think I have done enough here for now. Erian, do you wish for me to stay longer?”
“Oh. No, Senneck, I can do this on my own now. You can do what you want.”
“Good,” she said briskly. “Eekrae”—the other griffin had woken up and was looking at her now—“I feel in need of some fresh air. If your offer still stands, perhaps we can fly together after all.”
Eekrae got up. He was a slim griffin with a slightly scrappy look, his grey and brown feathers tousled. “I would be glad to,” he said. “More than glad.”
If Senneck had been human, she would have smiled thinly. “Good. Let us go, then. Erian, I shall see you this evening in our nest.”
Erian smiled at her. “Have a good time, Senneck. I’ll have some food ready for you.”
The two griffins left, tails swinging behind them. Once they were gone, Erian felt himself relax, though up until that moment he hadn’t been aware that he was tense. He sat back.
“Well, then,” he said to no-one in particular.
“She’s very tough on you,” Kerod observed.
“What? Oh. Yes, I suppose so.”
“It’s only to be expected,” said the old man. “When a griffin first chooses a partner, she tends to be very fussy in the beginning. Like a mother with chicks. That’s why it’s mostly females who do the choosing, see. It’s like a mothering instinct. They get attached to you. But at first they take it a bit too far. And she’ll be wanting the best for you, of course. New griffiners have to prove themselves right away. Show their mettle, so to speak.” He cackled. “Anyway, I wouldn’t worry if I was you. She might be pushing you hard now, but if I’m any judge she’ll have other things to worry about soon enough.”
Erian scratched his ear. “Like what?”
“I mean that she’s got a proper home now,” said Kerod. “A nest. And everyone knows what griffins use nests for.”
“I’m sorry?” said Erian, mystified.
“Good gods, boy, don’t you know anything about griffins?” said Kerod. “Where did you grow up, anyway?”
“Uh, Carrick,” said Erian, wishing he could have said something else.
“Carrick? Never heard of it. Well, look,” Kerod said, and shrugged, “when a male griffin invites a female to go flying with him—”
Erian started, so violently he broke the stylus in half. “What?”
“Calm down, it’s natural enough,” said Kerod.
“Yes, but . . .” Erian tried to imagine Senneck submitting to a male, especially one as scruffy looking and eccentric as Eekrae, and failed. “You mean Eekrae . . . ?”
“A little slow on the uptake, aren’t we?” said Kerod. “He likes her, obviously, and she finally said yes to his invitation, so—”
“So she’ll lay eggs?”
“Maybe, maybe not. There’s no promise it’ll come to anything. Plenty of times griffins mate but the female doesn’t lay, or the eggs aren’t viable. But if I were you, I’d take it as a good sign. If Senneck feels enough at home here to be thinking about breeding, it means good luck for both of you.”
Erian rubbed his head. “So what happens if she lays eggs? I mean, where will the chicks go?”
“When they’re old enough they’ll have to leave,” said Kerod. “They’ll live in one of the roosts, unless they choose humans to move in with.”
Erian tried to think, but his mind refused to accept what Kerod was telling him. “Good gods,” he managed.
22
Choosing
Arenadd and Skade walked back toward his campsite, with Skandar leading the way. Skade kept her distance from Arenadd, still uncertain and a little afraid, but as they were negotiating a rough patch of undergrowth he reached back and took her hand. She held on to it for the rest of the way, until they reached the little clearing where a fire was still smouldering.
Arenadd let go of her hand and added more fuel until the fire was burning brightly again.
“Here, sit down,” he said. “Come on. You look exhausted. I’ve got some food.”
Skade took the undercooked meat and raw potatoes he gave her, and tore into them without a second thought. Part of her felt slightly ashamed and urged her to stop and ask all the questions burning on her tongue, but her hunger overrode that and she bolted the food down without even tasting it.
Arenadd ate nothing. He sat on the other side of the fire, with Skandar lying peacefully behind him and watched her, his pale face concerned. “You look so thin.”
Skade swallowed the last bite. “I survived well enough. What you taught me helped me find food.”
Arenadd moved closer to her. “Skade, what happened? Where were you, really? I don’t understand any of this.”
“I do not understand, either,” said Skade. “How did you come back here from Herbstitt so quickly? And where did all those slaves come from? And why are they following you?”
Arenadd waved a hand. “Let’s start at the beginning. You went into the cave. I followed you immediately afterward.”
“What did you see in there?” said Skade. “May I ask?”
Arenadd thought briefly of the mist, the threatening voices and the inexplicable sense of dread. “The spirits didn’t want me to come in. They were trying to frighten me away. That was when I dropped my sword. But I got in anyway. I don’t think the spirits are that powerful, you know. They couldn’t physically stop me getting in; all they could do was get into my head, try and scare me. Anyway, after that I saw . . .”
“Saw what?” said Skade.
“I saw Eluna,” Arenadd said simply. “My dead griffin. But she wasn’t . . . her. She spoke, but it sounded like many voices, not one. She said she was the dead, and—”
“Do not tell me what they told you,” said Skade. “It was between—”
“Between me and them, I know,” said Arenadd. “But I don’t give a flying turd about what they think and want. They told me to go away. I asked them to help me, but they cursed me, said terrible things, told me I was evil. They got inside my head. Made me remember things.” He paused. “The night I died. They made me relive it. I felt the same pain I felt then, and after that—” He shrugged with exaggerated care. “The next thing I knew I was outside in the rain and people were grabbing me and shackling my wrists together. I can’t have been in that cave for more than a few heartbeats, but it was night when I came out.”
“And they caught you,” Skade said softly.
&nb
sp; “Yes.” Arenadd’s face twisted. “Those spirits—they didn’t just refuse to help me. They gave me to my captors, let them get me.”
“And they took you to Herbstitt,” said Skade.
“Yes. They didn’t realise who I was; they were out looking for a runaway slave, and I was there, so they dragged me back to Herbstitt. The man in charge there knew I wasn’t one of his, but he decided to keep me anyway. He had me branded and put in with the other slaves. I was there for a month or so, but after I escaped and Skandar found me we decided to go back and free the slaves. So we brought them here with us.”
Skade looked bewildered. “But how is that possible? For all that to have happened—how can you have been gone a month?”
“I don’t know,” said Arenadd. “How long were you in that cave?”
“Only a short time,” said Skade. “I thought it must have been one night; it was dawn when I came out. And you were not there, and neither was Skandar. I waited for days, hoping you would return, and now you have.”
Arenadd frowned. “Hmm. That’s odd. Skandar?”
Skandar raised his head.
“Skandar,” said Arenadd. “How long were you gone? When did you come back from hunting?”
The griffin appeared to think about it. “Not fly far,” he said. “Tired. Fly east. Catch good food, big food. Eat, fly back, bring food for human.”
“Was it night-time by then?”
“Yes. The Night Eye open.”
“Was it raining?”
“No. No rain, not for days,” said Skandar. “I wait. Waited one, two, three days. No food, so I fly away. Come back to look, but you were not there. Come back many times, but nothing. I did not go back any more. I think you have gone, so I look for you. Find human, watch human, eat cow. But humans not see,” he added proudly. “I come at night, stay away. Like you said. Then I find you, near singing hill. Dig you up. You dead, but come alive. Magic! Magic human.”