Authors: K.J. Taylor

The Griffin's Flight (63 page)

BOOK: The Griffin's Flight

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Skandar, seeing the fires had died out, came down to land close to his human. “Go,” he rasped. “Go now.”

“Yes, yes.” Arenadd waved at Skade to join him, and then turned to Caedmon. “I suppose this is goodbye,” he said. “To you and everyone. We’ll get through the mountains before you do, so—”

“Where are ye plannin’ to go?” asked Caedmon.

Arenadd shrugged. “We’ll find a place.”

Caedmon came closer. “I know where ye should be goin’,” he said. “Here, come to me. I don’t want that griffin too close.”

Arenadd obeyed. “What is it?”

Caedmon frowned and glanced over his shoulder before he spoke. “Eitheinn,” he said in an undertone. “Go to Eitheinn. It’s the furthest north of all the villages—tiny place. We hid there once durin’ the war, an’ if any one of our lot got away they’ll be there now.”

“Eitheinn,” Arenadd repeated. “How do I find it?”

“Follow the River Snow,” said Caedmon. “It’ll get ye there. Even if Eitheinn’s no good, go into the mountains beyond it. You’ll find a stone circle. Only one left standing, far as I know. Taranis’ Throne.”

“It really exists?”

“Yes, and it’ll protect ye. It’s a sacred place.”

Arenadd nodded. “I understand. If you think Eitheinn is where I should go, then I’ll find it.”

“Go then, an’ good luck,” said Caedmon.

“Thank you. Caedmon, where are you going to go?”

Caedmon shrugged. “I’ll find something. I’m takin’ Torc with me. We’ll find a place to settle down. Somewhere quiet. I’m sure no-one’ll ask too many questions of an old man an’ his grandson who’ve lost their home.”

“But what about the scars on your neck? Won’t people ask questions?”

“Listen, lad,” said Caedmon, with a touch of his old impatience, “we’re all darkmen in the North, and darkmen protect each other. If a man makes it clear he’s got no interest in lookin’ for trouble, then he’ll be left alone nine times out of ten.”

Arenadd grinned. “Understood.” He backed away toward Skandar and, raising his voice so that every one of the former slaves could hear him, said, “Never talk about what happened here, but never forget. I hope you can find a way to survive, and that you find better lives for yourselves. And I hope that one day we’ll meet again.” He bowed and turned toward Skandar, preparing to get onto his back.

“Wait!” A man came running toward him. Instantly Skandar reared up, hissing.

“Stay back!” Arenadd yelled.

The man backed away hastily, until Skandar relaxed. “Let me come with you,” he said.

“And us!” Prydwen added, pushing forward.

The three Northerners stood together in a little group, arms folded, watching him resolutely.

“Let us come with ye, sir,” said Prydwen.

“I’m sorry,” said Arenadd, “but you can’t.”

“Please, sir!” said Dafydd. “We want to follow ye!”

“After all ye did for me, I’d go with ye no matter what,” Garnoc added. “It’d be an honour, sir.”

“I told you, no,” said Arenadd. “I’d be happy to have you with me, but we can’t do it. Six people travelling together would draw far too much attention; just travelling with Skandar is bad enough.”

“But we can protect ye, sir,” said Prydwen.

Arenadd laughed. “Be careful, Prydwen, I think you just insulted Skandar.”

“Sorry,” said Prydwen, casting a quick glance at the griffin. “But sir, ye’re goin’ into Lady Elkin’s lands. There’s hundreds of griffiners living there, and if they knew ye was there they’d never stop chasing ye. An’ if they catch ye …” He shuddered.

“Ye set us free, sir,” said Dafydd. “I …” He hesitated. “I saw someone die the traitor’s death once. If that happened to ye, sir …”

Arenadd shook his head. “I understand. But don’t worry about me. I’ve got Skandar to protect me, and Skade as well. With just the two of us, we can fly most of the way. No-one will ever see us. And if I’m caught—well, I foiled the griffiners once, didn’t I? I can do it again.” It was empty bravado, but the three Northerners looked convinced.

“I trust ye, sir,” Prydwen said reluctantly. “If ye could do everythin’ people say ye did back at Eagleholm, then those sons of bitches at Malvern would be the ones in trouble if they ever caught ye.”

Skade cackled. “Do not worry, Prydwen. My Arenadd can look after himself. And if not, then Skandar and I shall do it for him.”

Skandar had looked increasingly bored and irritable during the conversation, and now he abruptly limped forward and thumped Arenadd on the head with his beak, nearly knocking him over. Arenadd yelped and staggered sideways as the three Northerners hurriedly backed off.

Arenadd turned to Skandar, rubbing his head. “Ow! You didn’t have to do that.”

But Skandar had had enough. He made a sudden rush forward, and his outstretched talons snapped shut around Arenadd’s body, pinning his arms to his sides before the griffin leapt into the sky, carrying his human with him.

Torc screamed. “Oh my gods, he’s going to eat him!”

Prydwen snatched up a rock and hurled it, but Skandar was already well out of range, flying up and away northward with Arenadd dangling from his talons.

Skade ran after him, shouting. “Come back!
Skandar!
”

For a moment it looked as if Skandar was going to keep on flying, but then he leant on one wing and wheeled back before he tipped head-downward and made a spectacular dive. Skade stood as still as she could, and the dark griffin swooped straight toward her and snatched her from the ground before his trajectory carried him upward. He flew low over the Northerners’ heads and back into the sky.

Almost completely immobilised by the talons wrapped around her body, Skade tried to catch her breath. Skandar’s silver feathers fluttered over her head as he turned northward once again and resumed his journey.

Dangling beside her, Arenadd spat out the hair that had been blown into his mouth and grinned madly at her. “Now, this is the only way to travel!” he yelled.

“Are you hurt?” Skade yelled back.

“No! Are you?”

Skade shook her head.

“I don’t think he’ll hurt you!” Arenadd shouted. “He seems to like you! Thank gods he decided to bring you as well! I thought I was going to lose you again!”

The wind made further conversation close to impossible, and the two of them hung limply side by side and let Skandar carry them away. Arenadd kept his eyes screwed shut, but Skade watched him.

You won’t lose me,
she thought.
Not again. You’re mine. And I’m yours
.

Homecoming

D
eep down, Arenadd had never been as confident about his bid to find shelter in the North as he had acted. From the beginning he had thought of it as little more than a last-ditch effort, something he was doing simply because there were no other realistic options. Going north would be difficult and dangerous, and the odds were that before he was even close to finding a place to lie low he would be spotted and then inexorably hunted down. But hiding anywhere else would be even more dangerous and impossible, and so he had settled on the North as the least hopeless out of a range of even worse decisions.

But within days of crossing over the border into the land called Tara, he knew that he had made the best choice he could have.

Skandar, for all his naïvety and ignorance of human ways, was already well versed in travelling inconspicuously. He followed the river as much as he could, taking large detours to avoid even the slightest hint of human habitation, sometimes choosing to fly at night to make more progress. They camped in the thickest patches of forest they could find, sometimes forced to lie low in small patches of cover to snatch some sleep before they moved on to find a safer location.

Skandar still persisted in taking livestock to feed himself, and there was very little Arenadd could do to make him stop, but he occasionally brought some meat back for his human cargo and insisted that “human not see” whenever Arenadd questioned him.

Arenadd and Skade rarely saw any humans, and when they did it was almost always from a great distance. Once they saw a griffin fly overhead, early one evening, but they tucked themselves away in a patch of willow trees and waited there until long after it had vanished.

That was their closest brush with danger, and the more they travelled the more Arenadd began to feel that they were in a land that could provide everything they needed.

The North was very different country than the Southern lands they had left behind; here the spice-trees were smaller and paler, interspersed with pine and fir. They began to see deer—animals that Arenadd had never seen before. And sometimes, at night, they heard the distant howling of wolves.

The last leg of their journey passed far more easily and uneventfully than they had expected, and the further north they went the easier it became. They had passed over and around towns and villages, but then there were only villages. The villages became smaller and the distances between them longer, until Skandar was following nothing but a small and winding road that ran alongside the River Snow. Ahead, mountains rose out of the landscape, and Arenadd knew they had made it.

They found a village tucked away at the very edge of the mountains just as Caedmon had said it would be, and went to ground well outside its edge to rest and consider their next move.

Arenadd sat down with his back to a tree and rubbed his numb legs. “I suppose this is it. We’ve done it.”

“What do now?” said Skandar. “Where go? Mountain?”

Arenadd shook his head. “Not yet. We need to find out if this is Eitheinn and if there are any of Caedmon’s friends still living here.”

“How?” said Skade.

“I’ve been thinking about this for the last few days—I think I should go in there in the morning and talk to someone, see what I can find out.”

“Is that wise?” said Skade.

“Relax,” Arenadd advised. “We’re miles away from the nearest town; there’s no griffiners here and no guards, either. I wouldn’t be surprised if these people don’t even know about Eagleholm, and if they do, why in the world would they guess who I am? I’ll just look like another Northerner, won’t I?” He sat back and grinned. “The North was the right place to come, Skade. The best place. I could have gone into any of those towns we passed and no-one would have looked twice at me. Come to think of it,
you’re
the one who’ll stick out here.”

“I would stand out anywhere,” Skade said acidly. “How many Southerners have my hair or eyes?”

“They’re not so obvious now,” said Arenadd, which was true enough. During the last month or so Skade’s appearance had been changing subtly. Her eyes had faded from gold to a kind of brownish amber, and her hair had lost its metallic tinge and become pale ash blonde. Her claws, though, had stayed, and so had her nature and stilted conversation.

“Even so,” she said, “I doubt these people see many visitors, and you are still wearing that robe. They will ask questions.”

“Obviously. But look, there can’t be much harm in just going in and having a look around. I’ve still got some oblong, so I can buy food, and I can probably buy a lot of ‘no questions’ as well if I need to. And if things turn ugly, we can always leave.” He shivered. “It’s cold country here, Skade. Living in the open would be far more dangerous than it was back in the South. If there’s even the smallest chance of finding shelter here, I want to, because quite honestly, I want to sleep with a roof over my head again.”

“I understand,” said Skade.

Skandar hissed. “Not want.”

“What don’t you want, Skandar?” said Arenadd.

The griffin paused, a sure sign that he was forming a sentence in his head. “I do not want—do not want to live—want mountains,” He said at last. “Want to fly to mountains.” He lifted his beak, pointing it skyward, and clicked it several times. “Want mountains. You, me, go there, build nest. You
say
. You promise.”

“Yes, but—”

“You say!” Skandar bellowed. “You say, go mountain. You say, we make home. I carry human, I fight. Not eat human, not fly away. You ask, I do. I help human, you show me mountain, give home. Want home.”

Arenadd stood up. “Skandar, calm down. I’m not saying we can’t go there.”

Skandar wasn’t listening. His wings were fluttering in agitation, and he was beginning to hiss and tear at the ground. “Want mountain! No human! Griffin nest, no human nest! You give! Promise!”

“All right. All right. Skandar, calm down. Please, someone will hear you. We’ll go to the mountains, understand? We’ll go in the morning. You’re tired now; you need to rest.”

Skandar subsided a little, though his tail continued to swish. “Go mountain?”

“Yes, Skandar. Just as you want.”

“No human?”

BOOK: The Griffin's Flight

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