The Griffin's Flight

by K J Taylor

  Eekrae looked up. “What must I do?”

  “Take me with you,” said Arenadd. “And after that, I want you to carry a message for me. That’s all. Can you do that, Eekrae?”

  And Eekrae said, “Yes.”

  35

  Heartless

  Skade had lost track of the time she had spent in the cell. They had put her in it as soon as they arrived at Malvern. Several times she had been taken to a different room and questioned, but the questions were perfunctory: they asked for her name, where she was from, why she was at Eitheinn and how much she knew about Saeddryn. Skade had eventually told them her name, but refused to say anything else. They asked; she sneered and hissed and said nothing. When they began to use intimidation—threatening her with rape and torture—she turned violent, lashing out at anyone who got too close. Her claws, at least, were one weapon she still had. They hit her, she hit back, and once she broke free and instantly hurled herself at a guard who tried to stop her escape, biting a piece out of his ear before they managed to subdue her. Eventually it reached the point where she ceased to speak entirely and took to attacking everyone who came within reach.

  After that they apparently decided she was more trouble than she was worth and left her alone.

  She sat huddled in the corner, shivering slightly and scratching at the floor. The claw on her forefinger was slowly being worn down by the amount of time she had spent doing this, but she didn’t care. The cell was dimly lit by a single torch, protected by a metal bracket, and she watched its light flicker over the dust and cracks on the floor and lost herself in thought.

  Arenadd had abandoned her. She knew that by now. She had believed him when he looked her in the eye and promised to return, and she had waited for weeks, believing he would come. But he never did, and nor did Skandar, and she didn’t know where they were or if they would ever return. When Saeddryn had returned alone from the mountains, Skade asked after them. Saeddryn said that Arenadd had decided to stay up there and wouldn’t be returning for a long time, if he returned at all. Beyond that she wouldn’t say anything, such as what he and Skandar were doing there and whether there was anyone else there with them.

  Skade didn’t believe her, and her silence only made her more inclined to think she was lying. She stayed in the barn and spent most of her time eating or sleeping, slowly recovering from the journey. Using the sword taken from the dead griffiner at Guard’s Post, she practised the moves Arenadd had taught her. Saeddryn, seeing this, offered to teach her more, and she accepted.

  That was how she spent most of her time, day in and day out, as two long months passed. By the end of the first month, she had already begun to realise that Arenadd was not going to return, and by the end of the second she knew it for certain. After that, everything had gone downhill. She went off her food and became lethargic and aggressive by turns. In the end Saeddryn became wary and began to leave her alone. Skade stayed locked away in the barn, forbidden to leave it during the day lest someone see her. Sometimes she was gripped by appalling urges for violence that led her to attack one of the beams that held up the ceiling, hacking pieces off it with her sword. Saeddryn finally lost patience and took the weapon away from her.

  It was only days later that the griffiners came. Skade was woken up by the commotion outside, and for a few moments, hearing voices speaking griffish, she thought that Arenadd had come back. But as she ran to the door she heard the screams, and after that she caught the scent and heard the sounds of griffins she didn’t know, reeking of aggression and malice.

  In that moment, it was as if all her pent-up frustration and misery rose up inside her in a single burst, and she launched herself in a frenzied attack at the first person who entered the barn.

  That was how her time at Eitheinn had ended, and here was where her journey had ended. She didn’t believe that she would escape from the cell or that they would release her. Perhaps they would sell her into slavery. Or maybe they would simply kill her. She knew very little about human justice and could only guess. But she wouldn’t tell them anything, no matter what they said or did. She had sworn that to herself.

  So she had sat alone in her cell, waiting for her time to come, but it never did. She had slid back into the same lethargy and despair that had affected her at Eitheinn. Now she sat and stared listlessly at the plate of food that had been placed next to her. She had eaten the salted beef, but couldn’t summon the energy to touch the bread or beans that came with it.

  The chains clinked whenever she moved. They had manacled her to a ring in the wall by her wrists, to stop her attacking the guards when they brought her food, and she picked at a spot where the metal had left a sore. It was becoming infected.

  A sound at the door made her look up sharply. This couldn’t be more food arriving.

  The door opened, and Skade squinted as light fell over her face. She could see someone standing in the doorway and hauled herself to her feet, dragging at the chains. “Come near me and I will kill you,” she rasped.

  The intruder didn’t move, and she heard a quick muttering of voices. “Should I just—?”

  “Go in,” a second, rougher voice commanded. “Don’t waste any more of our time.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The first speaker entered the cell, and Skade blinked in puzzlement. This wasn’t one of the guards. It was a woman—Northern, wearing a slave collar. She was middle-aged, and her face was etched with lines of grief and worry. She came closer, holding out a hand. “Please, don’t worry,” she said. “I won’t hurt you.”

  The voice was soft and nervous and had an accent Skade recognised. “Who are you?” she said.

  The woman fiddled with her hair, a gesture that made Skade’s heart leap. “My name is Annir,” she said. “Please, you have to come with me. You won’t be hurt.”

  Skade stared at her. “Annir?” The name was familiar. Distantly, achingly familiar.

  “Yes.” The woman held out her hands. “See? I don’t have any weapons. I’m just a—just a slave. Will you come with me?”

  “Where do you want to take me?” said Skade, suspiciously.

  “Out of the dungeons,” said Annir. “They’re not going to kill you.”

  “Well then, what are they going to do?” said Skade.

  Annir looked furtively over her shoulder and came even closer, just out of reach of Skade’s claws. “I think they’re going to set you free,” she said in a low voice.

  Skade regarded her. She had had a little more practice at reading human faces and eyes, and she couldn’t see any trace of a lie in this one. The eyes, though. There was something about them, something that made her heart beat faster. All humans looked more or less the same to her, of course, but still . . .

  “I cannot go with you,” she said at last. “I am chained.”

  Annir held up a key. “Here. If you promise to stand still, I’ll take them off.”

  The gentle tone finally managed to soothe Skade, and she relaxed and held out her hands. “I will come, then,” she said. “Take them off.”

  Annir inserted the key and quickly removed both manacles. She withdrew as soon as the second one had been unlocked, holding up her hands to defend herself, but Skade only stood and rubbed her wrists. “Curse them. If they do not set me free, I shall kill them.”

  “Don’t worry, I’m sure it won’t come to that,” said Annir. “Come, follow me.”

  She turned and walked out of the cell, and Skade followed warily at a distance. The instant she stepped through the doorway, however, hands grabbed her by the shoulders. More grabbed her elbows and wrenched her arms behind her back, where her wrists were shackled together yet again. It all happened so quickly and efficiently that she had no time at all to react.

  Held firmly between two guards, she found herself looking straight at Annir. She bared her teeth. “Liar!”

  Annir looked helplessly at her. “Please, just do what they tell you; they’re not going to—”

  The guard standing bes
ide Annir smacked her in the face. “Shut up an’ get movin’. Go up an’ tell ’em they’re a-comin’ now.”

  Annir clutched at her cheek. “Yes, sir.”

  “Now, you,” said the guard, turning to Skade while Annir left. “I don’t want anythin’ from you except ‘Yes, sir’ an’ ‘No, sir,’ understand? Try anythin’—anythin’ at all—an’ I’ll tear your tits off.”

  Skade hissed at him and said nothing.

  The guard nodded to the two holding her. “Move it.”

  They moved off, marching her between them up the corridor. She tried to break away from them at first, but one of them hit her in the head so hard that stars filled her vision. Stunned and bleeding from a cut above her ear, she stumbled between them without any further resistance. Their short journey ended in a small room at the end of the corridor, the same one where she had been interrogated. But this time there were other people waiting for them.

  Skade blinked, cringing as her head exploded with pain. Eight people, four of them guards. The other four were in manacles: Saeddryn, Rhodri and two Eitheinnians who had been arrested on the same day as she had.

  One of her guards saluted. “Got the last one, sir. Sorry for the wait; she’s madder’n ever.”

  “Bring her here.”

  Skade allowed herself to be taken over to the other prisoners, and was made to stand just behind Saeddryn. The Northerner shifted backward slightly and managed to brush Skade’s hand with her own. “Skade! Are ye all right?”

  “I am not hurt,” said Skade. “What is—?”

  “Shut up,” a guard commanded. “Now.” He moved to stand in front of the prisoners so they could all see him. “We’re takin’ you out’ve here. There’ll be guards flankin’ you the whole time, so don’t even think about tryin’ anything on. Behave an’ you’ll get fed. Do anythin’ to piss me off, you get a beating. The choice is yours.”

  “Where are we goin’?” Saeddryn piped up.

  He hit her. “Did I say talk? No? Right. Now move. Go on, move!”

  The prisoners were taken out of the room and marched in single file up and out of the dungeons, with guards in front and behind them, swords drawn. Once they had ascended to the upper levels of the prison complex, they were led out through a gate and into the open air. More guards were waiting, standing around a large cage on wheels that had a pair of oxen yoked to it.

  The captain signalled to two of them to open the door at the back of the cage and gestured at it with his sword. “In.”

  They climbed up one at a time and sat down on the pair of benches provided. The door was closed behind them, and the guards took up new stations: two climbed up onto the driver’s seat, and others perched on special ledges that ran around the outside of the cage. Those that remained behind guarded the door, and they waited there like that for some time until the gate opened again and Annir came through.

  She took a few steps back, and bowed low. “Master.”

  Inside the cage, Skade tensed when she saw the griffin emerge. It was female, thin and long-legged, with pale brown feathers and blue eyes. She approached the cage and sat on her haunches, looking haughtily at the prisoners. Skade snarled at her.

  Annir’s master came close on the griffin’s tail. He was a boy, younger than Arenadd, stockily built and clad in a fine blue velvet tunic. His face was round and snub-nosed, decorated by a sprinkling of freckles and a pair of bright blue eyes. Those, coupled with his tousled sandy-brown hair, made him look almost comically similar to his griffin.

  One arm was bound in a sling. He waved the other at the guards. “Put her in the cage.”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  One guard opened the door and gestured at Annir, and she climbed up into the cage without argument and sat down next to Skade.

  “Now—” The boy shifted uncertainly and cast a quick glance at the griffin. She looked back stonily, and he stood up a little straighter. “Now, if everything’s in order, we should go.”

  “Yes, my lord,” said the captain. He nodded to the two men holding the reins, and they lashed the oxen into motion. The cage lurched and began to roll forward, toward another gate that would lead them out into the city. That was opened, and they were out of the Eyrie and away. The boy and the griffin followed behind until they were in the open, and then the boy climbed onto his partner’s back and she flew away. Skade watched them fly ahead of the cage as it wove through the city, passed out of it and began to follow the main trade road that headed northward.

  “Maybe we are being set free,” she muttered aloud.

  Saeddryn leant forward. “Skade, d’ye know what’s goin’ on?”

  Skade looked up. “No.” She nodded at Annir. “But she does.”

  Saeddryn gave her a distasteful look. “And what d’ye know, blackrobe?”

  Annir glared back. “Don’t you dare talk to me like that, girl. I’ve spent more of my life living free than you’ve been breathing, and I will not be called a blackrobe by you or anyone.”

  “Put on airs if’n ye want,” said Saeddryn, unimpressed, “but that ain’t gonna change much of anythin’. Now what’s goin’ on? Where’re we goin’?”

  Annir shook her head. “All I know is that we’re being taken somewhere out in the countryside. Lord Erian—”

  “Erian?” Skade said sharply.

  “Yes, Lord Erian, my—” Annir’s face twisted. “My master. He’s agreed to meet someone there. I don’t know who, but he needs us with him.”

  Saeddryn looked troubled. “But who? It couldn’t be—” She checked to see if the guards were listening, and then leant forward. “What’ve ye told them? What do they know?”

  “I told them nothing but my name,” said Skade.

  Rhodri shook his head. “They asked some questions an’ roughed me up some, but I din’t tell ’em anythin’ much. Just my name. I kept sayin’ I didn’t know nothin’ about anythin’ else.”

  The other two gave similar replies.

  “Good,” said Saeddryn. She leant forward even further, her voice a mere whisper. “So it seems they don’t know anythin’. They mustn’t think we know anythin’ much, or they would’ve tortured us properly. Or maybe they was just waitin’ for approval from up top. They don’t just torture everyone; they got to get permission first. They can’t hang us; all they know we’ve done is resist arrest, an’ who wouldn’t? Everyone in Tara hates the Eyrie. They could’ve sold us for that, but seems they ain’t interested. Maybe they’re gonna set us free. They can’t keep us locked up forever.”

  Annir didn’t look happy. “I don’t think so. There’s something big going on behind this, I’m sure of it.”

  Saeddryn gave her another unpleasant look. “An’ what would ye know about it?”

  “Everything,” Annir snapped. “I happen to be Lord Erian’s personal slave, and I saw him while he was planning this. I’ve never seen him so anxious. And why would he be coming with us if this was just a routine prisoner release? Well? Why would I be coming?”

  Saeddryn stared at her. “Just who are ye, anyway? Have I seen ye before?”

  “I’m Annir.”

  Saeddryn squinted. “Annir, from where?”

  “Idun village. What’s your name?”

  “Saeddryn.”

  “Oi!” a guard’s voice interrupted. “No talkin’!”

  They kept quiet after that, and the cage rumbled on for most of the rest of that day. That night they stopped at a roadside inn, and the prisoners stayed out the back in their cage and were provided with food that was at least fresher than what they had had in the dungeon. Skade slept that night leaning against the side of the cage, and dreamt of flying.

  The journey resumed early the next day and continued until noon. The guards had become less attentive now, no doubt tired from all the time spent on the road, and the prisoners could talk again.

  “Where d’ye think we’re going?” said Rhodri.

  “Who knows?” said Saeddryn. She looked up at the griffin still flying abov
e them. She was low enough for them to be able to see the colour of her feathers. “Who’s this Lord Erian, anyway?”

  “The Master of Farms at Malvern,” said Annir. “His griffin is called Senneck.”

  Saeddryn glanced at Skade. “And how do ye know him, Skade?”

  Skade shook her head. “It does not matter.”

  “But if it could give us some clues, then it does matter,” said Saeddryn. “Who is he? Ye’ve heard his name before, so don’t lie about it.”

  They were speaking in the lowest whispers possible—so quietly they could only just hear each other—but Skade checked the guards anyway and leant very close to Saeddryn to reply. “He is the son of Lord Rannagon.”

  Saeddryn didn’t move a muscle. “An’ what is he doin’ here?”

  “He is Arenadd’s enemy,” said Skade. “He wants to kill Arenadd for killing his father. He came to the North to find him and sold both Arenadd’s parents into slavery. Cardock told me before he died.”

  Saeddryn pulled away from her. “Damn him!”

  Skade, however, was looking at Annir. Those eyes—and not just the eyes, she thought suddenly. There were the brows, too, and the line of the jaw. All familiar. Her pulse quickened, and she leant forward. “Annir, why are you the Bastard’s slave?”

  “I was a prisoner,” Annir said briefly. “At Norton. My husband and I were locked up there. Lord Erian found us there and had us sold.”

  Skade’s eyes widened. “Your husband. What was his name?”

  Annir sighed. “His name was Cardock, and I don’t know—” She stopped dead, and every guard there jerked awake, at the cries of astonishment from both Skade and Saeddryn.

  “Here!” one shouted. “Stop that right now, damn you!”

  They had to wait quite a long time before calm returned and the guards’ attention lapsed again.

  “Cardock!” Saeddryn exclaimed in an undertone. “Ye mean Cardock Skandarson? Cardock Taranisäii?”

  “Yes,” said Annir. “I don’t know what happened to him. I haven’t seen him since the day we were sold.”