by K J Taylor
The back of the ship had a raised section on it, as if a small building had been put on top of it. Steps led onto the “roof,” but there was indeed a door. Laela made for it without another thought, already excited to see what would be on the other side.
The captain, a heavyset Northerner, bowed low, and said something in Northern.
Laela tried not to grimace. “Is it through there?”
He gave her a slightly affronted look. “Yes, my lady. There should be room enough for all of ye.”
“‘All’?” said Laela. “Why, am I sharin’ with someone?”
“There’s only one cabin other than the captain’s and Lord Vander’s, my Lady, an’ the King insisted ye be allowed t’share it with him.”
Laela went red. “I ain’t—” She stopped herself. “Right.” She waited until the captain had opened the door for her and went in, with Oeka skittering after her.
The cabin was surprisingly roomy, and even more surprisingly well decorated. There were even tapestries hanging on the walls.
Laela noted that there was only one bed. What was Arenadd playing at?
The King was sitting at a small table by the fireplace with his feet up. “Ah, hello. Nice quarters we’ve got, eh?”
Laela folded her arms. “What’s this about?”
“What’s what about?”
“We’re sharin’ a room all of a sudden. What are yeh thinkin’?”
Arenadd looked surprised. “There’s only one cabin. I thought you’d prefer this to sleeping belowdecks with everyone else. They’re all packed into bunk-beds with the sailors. They won’t like it much, but we didn’t have any other options.”
Laela caught herself mid-anger. “I—oh.”
Arenadd glanced at the bed. “I’ll put up a hammock. I don’t mind. It’s not as if I sleep much any more anyway.”
“Well. What about Oeka, then?” said Laela, embarrassed. “Where’d all the other griffins go, anyway?”
Arenadd took his feet off the table. “This ship was meant to carry livestock to Maijan. We’ve had the stalls modified for griffins. But Oeka’s small enough to stay here with us if she’d prefer. It’ll be easier for when we start our lessons again.”
“Suits me fine,” said Laela.
Oeka flicked her tail and rasped briefly.
“She said—”
“‘I am happy,’” Laela interrupted.
Arenadd grinned. “You’re a fast learner, aren’t you?”
• • •
The Seabreath set sail not long after its passengers had settled in. Laela went up on deck with Arenadd, and the two of them watched his Kingdom slowly fade into the horizon.
“I’ll be back, Tara,” Arenadd murmured. “Don’t lose faith in me.”
Most of the griffins had come up out of their stalls, but there was nowhere near enough room for them all on deck, so they took to the sky instead, lazily following the ship as a healthy wind drove it eastward over the waves.
Arenadd pointed northward. “Hey, look at that.”
Laela squinted. “Looks like a . . . blob.”
“It’s land,” said Arenadd. He frowned. “I didn’t know there was an island there. Oh well, it’s probably nothing important. Now, where were we?”
“I dunno,” said Laela. “I don’t think we’d started whatever it was yet.”
“Oh, that’s right,” said Arenadd. “I remember now.” He flicked his sickle out of his belt and flourished it. The blade flashed in the sun, and he grinned.
“Whoa, hey, wait a moment—” Laela backed off, holding up her hands. “What’re yeh doin’?”
Arenadd raised the sickle. “Catch.”
It flashed through the air, straight toward her. Instinctively, Laela lashed out at it to protect herself. The handle bounced off her wrist, and she grabbed for it and managed to catch it.
“Good reflexes,” said Arenadd. “Don’t lose it.”
Laela turned the weapon over, admiring it. The handle was made from some dark reddish wood, reinforced with gold bands. The blade, notched in places and slightly tarnished, was etched with a triple spiral surrounded by five small stars.
Laela gingerly touched the edge, wanting to test its sharpness. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe—gah!”
“I should have warned you about that,” said Arenadd. “Are you all right?”
Laela rubbed her bleeding finger on her dress. “Fine. What’m I meant t’do with it?”
“What I tell you to,” said Arenadd. “It’s time you started learning how to fight.”
• • •
Laela spent most of that day with the sickle in her hand, practising the different blows and blocks Arenadd showed her.
“Do it over and over again,” he said. “And then do it some more. Do it until it’s second nature—until your body remembers how to do it. Muscles have memory.”
Laela set to work.
By evening, she was exhausted and irritable—something that wasn’t helped by the constant, sickly rocking of the ship. She and Arenadd retired to their cabin, where food had been laid out for them. Before she ate, Laela had to feed Oeka—taking the bloody haunch provided and cutting strips off it. The finicky griffin had refused to take it any other way and wouldn’t take food from anybody else. At first, Laela had found this cute and flattering, but by now she’d realised what it really was: the griffin’s way of showing her exactly where she stood.
Still, it was a small enough price to pay. For now, at least.
Afterward, Laela washed the gore off her hands and sat down with Arenadd—who had politely waited for her before beginning to eat.
“Yeh didn’t have t’do that. It’s probably gone cold by now.”
Arenadd shrugged and reached for the cheese. “Eat up. We’re ready to move on to something a little less tiring now.”
Over dinner, he resumed teaching her griffish. Laela, who had never been formally educated until her adoption into Malvern, was beginning to find it boring, but she said nothing and persevered—knowing the eventual reward would make it worthwhile. And she was far too proud to even think of how humiliating it would be if she were the only griffiner who couldn’t speak griffish. Not knowing Northern was bad enough.
• • •
Oeka gulped down the last of her food and listened with interest. Now she’d been taught some respect, the human was working hard at being a worthy griffiner. Oeka was pleased. She’d already done well by claiming the human before one of the larger griffins did; Oeka knew that being a youngster meant it was harder to take the best humans without being challenged. But the others in the Hatchery knew better than to interfere with her—she’d discovered her power early on, and once they knew what it could do, the others left her alone.
I have come far in little time, Oeka thought. As my power means I should. This human will serve me well.
The small griffin’s eyes narrowed on Laela, awkwardly stumbling her way through a griffish phrase. At first she’d disliked the idea of leaving Malvern for so long, but by now Oeka had decided it was for the best. Better to have time to break her human in, unmolested. By the time they returned, she would have her well trained and ready to take all the Kingdom had to offer.
21
Kissing the Snake
Three months passed.
The ship reached Maijan and docked there to take on fresh supplies. The Amorani-controlled island was big enough to support two small cities and even a few griffiners. Lord Vander went ashore with Ymazu to speak to them, and Arenadd went, too. Laela went with him, more than happy to have solid ground under her feet again.
They spent two days in Maijan, and Laela took the opportunity to explore the port-town where they’d docked, with Oeka by her side. The locals were a friendly enough lot�
��obviously used to visits from their pale neighbours. Most of them spoke some Cymrian, and they received Laela with great interest, many of them pointing out her blue eyes and chattering animatedly among themselves. At first, Laela was offended, but she quickly realised that their interest was nothing but friendly curiosity, and after that she began to find it vaguely enjoyable.
Once the supplies were on board and Arenadd and Vander had completed their business on the island (and Skandar had taken the opportunity to acquaint himself with the handful of female griffins who lived on it), the Seabreath departed.
For the next few weeks, they followed the chain of small islands that Maijan belonged to, anchoring beside one or two of them so the griffins could go ashore. Most of the human passengers went, too, Laela among them, though she spent most of her time on dry land training with Arenadd in the art of the sickle. She could feel herself getting better at it all the time.
She was almost sad when the time came to leave the islands behind and strike out over the Armourfish Sea.
The weather had been growing steadily warmer and warmer as they sailed further east, and by the time they were a month out of Maijan, it was sweltering.
The Northerners, used to cold, looked as if all their energy had been drained out of them. They stayed belowdecks, moaning and grumbling among themselves and trying to cool down by soaking their clothes in sea-water. Laela, too, suffered in the heat, which grew unbearably as the weeks dragged by. She couldn’t believe that any place could possibly be this hot, and almost dreaded what it would be like when they were actually in Amoran.
But as unhappy as they were, nobody looked as miserable as Arenadd did.
The King scarcely moved during the day, and was pale and tight-lipped whenever he was awake. He became snappish and irritable during Laela’s lessons, and only sheer exhaustion stopped them from outright arguing.
Eventually, after what looked like a very unpleasant struggle, Arenadd gave up and took his robe off—going bare-chested like the other men on board. His scars looked even more hideous under the harsh sun and attracted plenty of morbid conversation, which he obviously didn’t appreciate.
Skandar wasn’t much happier than his human. Laela started visiting him with Arenadd as an excuse to get out of the sun, and she was shocked when she saw how thin the huge griffin had become. Whoever had made the stall he was living in had done his best, but it just wasn’t big enough for him. His fur and feathers had become dull and matted from too little grooming. His stall hadn’t been cleaned out properly and stank, but though he’d been lying in it so long that he was developing pressure sores on his paws, he refused to go out into the blazing sun.
By the time Arenadd intervened, the dark griffin’s temper had snapped, and he had begun lashing out at anyone who came close.
Laela, too sensible to try and go too close, hung back and watched while Arenadd did his best to calm his friend down. Eventually, Skandar groaned and laid his head on his talons, and Arenadd could go in and clear away as much of the mess as he could.
Laela realised he was swearing. “We’ve got t’get him out of here,” she said. “He needs—”
“I know what he needs,” Arenadd growled without turning around. “That doesn’t mean he’ll look for it. Go back up on deck and see if you can find someone who knows where to find some ointment for these sores.”
Laela nodded brusquely and left.
As she and Oeka climbed the ramp back to the deck, Laela heard shouting. “What’s goin’ on up there?” she mumbled.
Outside, there was furious activity. The captain was yelling orders at his men, most of whom were already dashing off to follow them. There were some griffiners about, most of them looking anxious and uncertain.
Laela squinted irritably in the sun and stumped over to the nearest person. “What’s goin’ on? Why’s everyone shoutin’? I already got enough of a bloody headache.”
“There’s another ship coming this way,” said the man—one of the sailors.
She perked up at that. “Who is it?”
“We’re not sure. They’re not close enough to tell. But we have to be ready, in case . . .”
“In case they ain’t friends?” Laela hazarded.
“Yes. Just in case.”
“What, how likely is it that they’re wantin’ to attack us?” said Laela.
“There are plenty of trading ships in these waters,” said the sailor. “Which means—”
“—It’s probably one of them?”
“Which means there are also pirates,” the sailor said grimly.
“What in the gods’ names are they?”
“Bandits. Thieves.”
“Ah. Right.” Laela’s grip on his arm slackened. “I’d better go tell the King, then.”
• • •
Arenadd took some time to emerge from belowdecks, and when he did, it was obvious what had taken him so long. He walked slowly, pausing every few moments to look back. Skandar was following—limping slightly and hissing. Several times he tried to turn back, but Arenadd kept talking softly to him, and he gave in to his friend’s coaxing and stepped up onto the deck. There he opened his wings, put his head back and stretched luxuriously. Someone brought a bucket of water and a brush, and Arenadd set to work cleaning the griffin’s flanks. Skandar cooed, obviously enjoying it, and deigned to lift his paws one by one so Arenadd could scrape the muck out of his talons and clean and dress the sores.
Laela, watching, found the scene so strange and weirdly amusing that she almost forgot about the oncoming ship.
“Don’t yeh have people t’do that for yeh?” she asked eventually.
Arenadd glanced up. “He won’t let anyone else touch him. I wouldn’t ask them to, anyway.”
“Well, yeah, they might lose an arm or somethin’.”
Arenadd picked up the sharp tool he used to scrape out the inside of Skandar’s talons. “I may be a King, but I’m a griffiner as well, and doing this sort of thing is part of my duties as Skandar’s human. Yes, what do you want?”
The sailor who’d been trying to get his attention bowed hastily and spoke in Northern.
Arenadd’s expression changed. “How close?” he asked, using Cymrian for Laela’s benefit.
The reply came in the dark tongue—Laela understood a few words here and there, but had no idea what the man was saying. She gritted her teeth in frustration.
Arenadd nodded curtly and went back to his work, speaking to Skandar now. After three months of daily tutoring, Laela was pleased to find that she could understand parts of this, at least.
“. . . enemies . . . dangerous . . . fighting . . . many.”
Skandar raised his head and stared out over the sea. His tail began to lash back and forth.
Laela turned, and her face froze. “What?”
The strange ship had come so much closer since she’d last seen it that it was as if it had appeared out of nowhere. Now she could see that it was at least as big as the Seabreath—and far more heavily manned. At least a hundred men were up on the decks—Amoranis, all of them.
Many of them were carrying bows.
“Pirates, Sire,” one of the griffiners said. “They have us outnumbered.”
From the other ship, a thickset man brandishing a spear yelled out a sneering challenge in Amorani.
“Fools,” said Lord Vander, appearing from somewhere as if by magic. “They have no idea that they are up against griffins. Sire—” He turned to Arenadd. “You need not concern yourself with these scum. If you wish, I will go at once and tell the griffins belowdecks. They will deal with them quickly enough.”
Arenadd didn’t look at him. He kept his eyes on the oncoming pirate ship. There was a very strange look on his face. Not angry, not frightened, but strangely . . .
Laela stepped closer to hi
m. “What’s up, Arenadd?”
The Dark Lord was pale, and his eyes were gleaming. He was breathing heavily and his fists clenched. He let out a long, slow sigh. “Oh . . .”
Laela nudged him. “Sire? Arenadd?”
The ship was very close by now—so close Laela could see the intent expressions on the bandits’ faces.
Fear put a tight band around her chest. She moved closer to Oeka and tried to look calm. Strangely, her mind—addled by the heat and now by apprehension—threw up a memory that seemed to have nothing to do with the situation. She was a child back in the village, listening to the miller’s sons singing a taunting song at their sister. Pretty maid, dressed in yellow, went upstairs to kiss a fellow. By mistake she kissed a snake—
Laela glanced at Arenadd, in time to see a horrible grin spread over his face.
“Sire?” Vander was still hovering nearby, looking slightly anxious.
“Those fools,” Arenadd breathed. “They have no idea.”
“Not yet,” Vander said grimly. “Ymazu and I—”
“No.” Arenadd held up a hand. “Stop. Stop!”
The people around him, who had been hurrying to organise the defence, stopped in their tracks.
Arenadd’s hand went to his belt and freed his sickle. “There’s no need for you to risk your lives here. Leave this to us.”
The griffiners glanced at each other. “But, Sire,” said one of the younger ones, “there’s no need for—”
Arenadd drew himself up to his full, impressive height. “Quiet, Arawn.” He gripped the sickle. “I may have been a King for twenty years, but underneath I am still Kraeai kran ae.” He looked at the pirates again. “And I think it’s time I reminded myself of that.”
Laela gaped at him. “Yeh ain’t gonna—”
Arenadd laid a hand on her arm. “Sorry, Laela,” he said. “But today you’re going to see a different side of me. Skandar!”
Skandar, who had been lying on his belly, stood up and limped toward his human. The ship actually leaned to one side under his weight, and several people quickly ran to the opposite side to try to balance it.