Read The Griffin's Flight Online
Authors: K.J. Taylor
The Griffin's Flight (43 page)
The audience chamber was unlike anything he had ever seen. It was huge and high-ceilinged, lined with white marble. Elegant pale-blue drapes edged with gold hung here and there, and three large fireplaces were set into the walls. There was no furniture, but there was a raised dais at the centre, incongruously covered by a heap of dry rushes, and some large cushions lay on the floor at its base. The dais was unoccupied.
Erian and Senneck stopped by the cushions and waited. Erian was about to ask where the Lady Elkin was when he saw Senneck draw herself up expectantly and heard the sound of talons on the floor on the other side of the dais.
There was another, smaller archway beyond it, and through that stepped—
Erian gaped. His stomach lurched. For a moment his legs felt as if they were going to collapse.
Through the archway came what was quite simply the largest living thing he had ever seen in his life.
It was a griffin, male, his coat pure white and his eyes burnished gold. Erian had never seen a griffin so big. He was at least twice as large as Senneck and many times heavier. Each foreleg looked as thick as Erian’s entire body, and the shoulders were wider than those of an ox. The head, towering above both of them, looked like a white-feathered boulder with a beak. Not even Darkheart, the one-time legend of the Arena, was as big as this.
Erian regained some of his senses and dropped to his knees. “My lord,” he breathed. Instantly he knew he had made a blunder, and crumbled inside. Griffins did not have titles, and if he acted as if he didn’t know what he was doing …
He glanced up, hoping that the colossal griffin hadn’t heard him. To his intense relief, the gold eyes were fixed on Senneck rather than him. The brown griffin had already backed away and was bowing, even more humbly than she had up on the roof.
“The Mighty Kraal,” she said, in awestruck tones.
The white griffin regarded her impassively for a few moments. “I do not know you,” he said at last. His voice was rough and deep.
“I have only just come to your city,” Senneck explained. “I am Senneck of Eagleholm, and this is my human, Erian Rannagonson. Most humbly do we come before you.”
Kraal looked at Erian for the first time. “Rise.”
Erian did so, saying nothing. He glanced around quickly for any sign of Lady Elkin, but failed to spot her. Returning his gaze to Kraal, he was careful to avoid making eye contact and stared instead at the griffin’s talons. They were huge and pitted, and did nothing to ease his nerves.
He felt something enormous move just above him and closed his eyes tightly as Kraal brought his beak down and scented him, hot breath ruffling his hair. It lasted for a few heart-stopping moments, as visions of that great beak cracking his skull danced through Erian’s head. Then the white griffin abruptly withdrew and he dared to breathe again.
“Southerners, are you?” said a voice.
Erian looked up, surprised, and was in time to see a small figure appear from somewhere beside Kraal, as if she had been hiding in his feathers, which, he thought later, she quite possibly had.
He looked at her, confused. She was a teenage girl, no older than fifteen or sixteen. Where her partner was huge, she was tiny: Erian could have encircled her waist with his hands. Her face was delicate and pointed, her shape elegant but almost alarmingly fragile. She wore a simple white gown, and her hair was so blonde it nearly matched it.
She smiled at him. “Hello, Erian, and welcome to my city. I am Lady Elkin.”
Erian blinked stupidly. “You’re … ?”
The smile widened slightly. “Lady Elkin, yes. Do you want to sit down?”
“We shall,” Senneck interrupted sharply. “Erian, sit.”
Erian hastily selected a cushion and sat down on it, cross-legged. Senneck crouched beside him. Kraal, apparently satisfied, stepped up onto the dais and lay down on the rushes. Elkin sat in front of him, nestling between his front paws.
“Welcome to the North,” she said sweetly. “I’m happy to see you.”
Senneck glanced at Erian, giving him his cue to speak.
“Th-thank you,” he stammered. “My lady, Senneck and I are honoured to be here in your lands.”
“How do you like them?” she asked.
Erian hesitated. “They’re … not what I expected.”
“Things rarely are,” said Elkin, nodding solemnly. “But do you like them?”
“I do, my lady,” said Erian. He pulled himself together. “My lady,” he said in his most measured, respectful voice, “Senneck and I have come here from Eagleholm with the inten—”
She waved him into silence. “I’m glad you like my lands, Erian. I do. Many people don’t like them; they say they’re too cold and barren, and too full of Northerners.”
She tittered. “I suppose some people would complain that the sea is full of fish. Do you know, some people thought we should destroy them? Kill them all, or make
all
of them slaves, which isn’t practical, and why should we? It isn’t the North without them, I think, and you get used to them. Anyway”—she fixed him with a suddenly intent look—“I expect you’ve come to work for me.”
all
of them slaves, which isn’t practical, and why should we? It isn’t the North without them, I think, and you get used to them. Anyway”—she fixed him with a suddenly intent look—“I expect you’ve come to work for me.”
“Wh—yes,” said Erian. “We never swore ourselves to any other Eyrie, but we have chosen to swear ourselves to you, my lady, if you will have us.”
She sighed. “Many griffiners have already come here to say the same thing. Well, except for the first part, because they were all older than you. Do you know, I think you’re the youngest griffiner we’ve had here apart from me? How old are you?”
“Uh, sixteen, my lady.”
Elkin smiled. “Oh! So am I! Isn’t that odd? So, Erian, won’t you tell me about yourself? Where are you from? What was your family like?”
“Well, I was born in a village near Carrick,” said Erian, feeling unexpectedly flattered to have been asked. “My father was Lord Rannagon Raegonson of Eagleholm.”
“And your mother?” Elkin interrupted.
“Oh. She died giving birth to me,” Erian mumbled. “I was raised by my grandparents. And my father—”
“Wait,” said Elkin. “You are the son of Lord Rannagon, but you weren’t born at Eagleholm?”
“Yes.”
“Ah!” Her eyes lit up. “Of course! You’re Lord Rannagon’s bastard, aren’t you?”
Erian winced. “Yes, I am, my lady.”
“I knew Lord Rannagon,” said Elkin. “Or at least my mother and father did. Many of the griffiners here did. And his sister, too. They were both here once, during Arddryn’s Uprising. There was a rather terrible war. But your father fought very bravely. Lord Anech, who was Eyrie Master before me, wanted him to live here for good, but he said no. He wanted to go home. And then he fathered you.”
She favoured him with another smile. “And you grew up to be a griffiner, just like him. I expect he was very proud.”
“He was,” said Erian. “I saw him only once after Senneck chose me. His wife didn’t like me, so she kept away, but my father saw me. He hugged me and told me how happy he was and how he always knew I would become a griffiner, and Senneck said …” He trailed off, suddenly aware that he was rambling.
Elkin was watching him keenly. “Why didn’t you swear yourself to Lady Riona, then? Didn’t she want you?”
“I never spoke to her myself,” said Erian. “She was very ill. But my father said he was arranging for Senneck and me to swear loyalty to her in her absence. That was the last time I ever spoke to him.”
“Why?” said Elkin. “Did he change his mind?”
“No.” Erian felt his throat squeeze in upon itself. “It was the last day of his life. He was murdered that same night.”
“Oh.” Elkin ran her fingers through her hair, and sighed. “Yes, I see. I did know about that. I never heard the story from anyone who was there, though. Is it true he was killed by another griffiner?”
“No.” Erian couldn’t stop himself from spitting the word. “A Northerner did it.”
“But a Northern griffiner,” said Elkin. “There was one at Eagleholm, wasn’t there? My councillors were very unhappy when we heard about it. In fact, we sent a message to Eagleholm about it. We told Lady Riona that letting a Northerner be a griffin’s partner was a very dangerous thing and she should know it better than most, and that if she wanted to protect her lands she should put a stop to it straight away.”
Erian shook his head. “Everyone at Eagleholm knew it was wrong. Especially my father. But there were a few griffiners there—a few of them took his side, helped protect him. One of them owned the hatchery, and some of the others he worked with liked him. My father says that Lady Riona believed he could be useful and that trying to get rid of him would cause too much trouble. And he
was
useful, my father said. Did well at every job they gave him, until they made him Master of Trade. There was even talk of putting him on the council. But after his griffin died because he disobeyed orders, he went mad. He blamed my father for what happened, and he killed him.”
was
useful, my father said. Did well at every job they gave him, until they made him Master of Trade. There was even talk of putting him on the council. But after his griffin died because he disobeyed orders, he went mad. He blamed my father for what happened, and he killed him.”
Elkin nodded gravely. “Lady Riona was a good Mistress. I always thought so. But she brought what happened on herself. Northerners weren’t meant to be griffiners, and that isn’t just what I think. It’s against the gods for it to happen.” She frowned. “Don’t get me wrong. I like the Northerners, you know. Some of them are very clever, and they’re good craftsmen. I like their music, too. And those little spirits and things they believe in—it’s interesting to study them. It teaches you so much about what our own people were like before they discovered true religion. But they can’t be griffiners. They’re just not right for it. They’re too simple-minded, they don’t have any understanding of things like law and governance, and they’re too undisciplined. They can’t help it; it’s just in their nature to be that way. But I’ve seen it so many times. Let Northerners govern themselves and they end up killing one another. It’s our duty as griffiners to protect them and look after them, but we can’t ever let them try and join us. This isn’t the first time it’s happened, you see.”
“It isn’t?” said Erian.
“Oh no,” said Elkin. She fixed him with a pale-green gaze. “It’s happened. Not very often, but it’s happened. Do you know how Arddryn’s Uprising started?”
“Yes, of course,” said Erian. “A peasant woman called Arddryn incited a rebellion, and her followers took over a couple of cities before they were put down.”
“That’s the story they all tell,” said Elkin. “But didn’t you ever wonder why so many people wanted to follow her? And why the fighting went on so long?”
Erian blanched. “She wasn’t a—?”
“Yes. It was kept quiet, you know,” said Elkin. “Out of shame. Because we here at Malvern let it happen. She lived here once, you know. But one day—well, a griffin chick escaped from the hatchery, you see, and somehow she got her hands on it. She kept it hidden in her house, and it grew up knowing just her. By the time people found out about it, it was attached to her, and it was big enough to escape again when they took it back to the hatchery. Every time they tried, it flew back to her.
“A pair of griffiners decided to help Arddryn, out of charity, you know, and they gave her the training. Nobody thought anything would come of it. The griffin was obviously mad, and she was only some Northern woman who couldn’t read or write. We thought they would live together as just friends and nothing else would happen. After all, there wasn’t any chance they’d be given status or anything.
“But it turned out differently than that, didn’t it? Arddryn found out that now she was a sort of griffiner, people wanted to do what she told them to. When she started using that to get things she wanted, Master Anech found out about it and sent the city guard to put a stop to it. But her griffin attacked them, and Arddryn and her griffin flew away before they could be arrested. After that they started moving around the countryside, gathering followers, and that was how the uprising started. And all because Master Anech let a griffin choose a Northerner.” She shook her head sadly. “And now it’s happened again.”
Erian rubbed his head, unable to hide his shock. “By Gryphus’ talons—so, Riona
knew
about that?”
knew
about that?”
“Of course. We sent to the other cities asking for help, you know, and she was one of those who came, along with her brother Rannagon. They were only young then. Lord Rannagon was the one who tracked Arddryn down and fought her and her griffin—Hyrenna, her name was. That’s why everyone here remembers him so well.” She smiled solemnly at Erian. “And now his son has come.”
Erian smiled back. He felt warm and happy inside. “The more I learn about my father the prouder I am to be his son,” he said.
“And so you should be,” said Elkin.
Kraal had been idly grooming his feathers, apparently uninterested in the conversation. Now he raised his head and looked at Erian. “Lord Rannagon was the catalyst that ended the uprising,” he rumbled. “We in the North owe him a great deal, and I was sorrowful to learn of his death.”
Erian bowed his head. “Did you know him, Kraal?”
“I did,” said the white griffin. Close to, Erian saw that his hindquarters were not white but pale gold. Those burnished eyes focused on him. “You look very much like him, Erian.”
“Thank you,” he replied. It wasn’t the first time he’d been told that, but it made him happy even now.
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