The Griffin's Flight (74 page)

Authors: K.J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's Flight

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“You?”

You are a Taranisäii,
said the lady.
You are a true Northerner, and by that you are linked to me. It was I who guided Skandar to you and I who blessed him with the power to bring you back and give you the gifts you have now. I command you, Arenadd, to use them
.

“Gifts?” said Arenadd. “What gifts?”

Her shape wavered.
You are the man without a heart,
she breathed.
The lord of the shadows, the master of death. You feel no remorse; you cannot be stopped. It is in you to kill. You have killed many men so far—how did you feel, Arenadd? What was in you when you killed them, when you saw their blood and heard their screams?

Arenadd trembled all over. “I—nightmares, I felt—”

No. How did you feel? Tell me
.

“I enjoyed it,” Arenadd whispered. “It made me feel like—it was easy. I enjoyed it.”

Yes. Death is yours, Arenadd. Its power, its glory, its mystery, I have given you that power
.

“But why? And what powers do I have? I’m only a—”

You walk,
she said.
You are dead, but you walk and breathe and speak and know. And there are other things, other powers, other gifts. If you accept me and agree to do my will, you shall uncover them, and then no man or griffin shall be able to stop you
.

“So I came back for a reason?” said Arenadd.

Yes. I have brought you back for a purpose. It is a purpose you have already begun to fulfil, and I am pleased
.

“What purpose?”

You killed Lord Rannagon,
she said.
When you returned, it was the first thing you did. Now you have come to the North, and I can tell you
—

“Rannagon? Why was killing him so important?”

Rannagon was a descendant; his family was one blessed by Gryphus. He was born to be an enemy to my people and an enemy to me. You have killed him now, but there is more you must do
. She held out a hand, and images began to waver in the air between her and Arenadd, vague shapes of people.
Rannagon’s blood is all but gone. Only three people are left living who carry it. You must find them … and kill them
.

Arenadd looked at the images and saw faces forming inside them. Faces he knew. “Erian. The Bastard. And—and Flell.”

They must die,
said the lady.
All of them. You must do it
.

Arenadd didn’t recognise the third face. “Why?”

Because I command it. Gryphus protects the Southerners, and he wants them to dominate this land forever. He will act to stop us, and when he does it will be through one of these three humans. You must kill them before it is too late
.

“I’ll kill the Bastard,” Arenadd promised. “I swear it. I want to kill him.”

And the others,
said the lady.
They must
all
die. Do this and I will give you the North. I will give you back your heart. You shall have power, riches, all you could ever ask for
.

“And if I fail?”

Fail and I shall punish you,
the lady hissed.
As I punished you at Herbstitt
.

“That was—?”

You saw the Bastard, and you ran from him. If you had not succumbed to weakness and fear, you could have killed him that day. You disappointed me and were punished
. Arenadd’s legs buckled suddenly.
If I wish,
said the lady,
I could do it to you again. Disappoint me, betray me, fail me, and I shall take away your strength. You will be blind, voiceless, helpless, but aware, and you will be buried and will lie beneath the earth and feel your body slowly rot away until nothing is left
.

Arenadd began to gasp for breath. “I won’t! I won’t, I swear!”

Then rise,
said the lady, and his strength returned at once.
Rise, and swear to do as I have commanded. You are my creature now, Arenadd Taranisäii. You shall do my will, and every Northerner shall bow to you and call you Lord and Master
.

Arenadd looked into that great glowing eye and bowed low. “I’ll do it. I swear. I’ll do what you want me to, no matter what it takes.”

She smiled.
Then go and be blessed, Arenadd
.

Master of the Night

A
renadd blinked. When he opened his eyes again he saw Ouen’s body lying in front of him. He turned sharply, looking for the lady, but there was no sign of her. He was in the circle and surrounded by the Northerners in their masks, his hands stained with blood. The moon glowed softly overhead, now an ordinary silver-white orb with no trace of red anywhere. It was over.

Arenadd stared blankly for a little while, before he suddenly became aware of the cold. He walked away from the altar, toward Arddryn, his mouth a thin line. She saw him coming and pulled off her mask. “Arenadd, are ye all right?”

Arenadd ignored her. He picked up the urn from by her feet and removed the lid. When he turned it over the ashes poured out and were caught up by the wind and carried away, like a flock of tiny griffins taking flight. “Goodbye, Dad,” he murmured.

Arddryn patted him on the shoulder. “Ye did well, Arenadd. Ye did very well. Welcome to our tribe, an’ welcome to manhood. Ye’re one of us now, through an’ through.”

Arenadd looked blankly at her. “Thank you.”

She showed a hint of fear when she looked back. “Yes, now come, come. We’ll go back t’the gorge now, t’eat an’ celebrate.”

Arenadd said nothing. He walked with the Northerners as they left the circle, only just hearing their loud and cheerful voices. They crowded around him to congratulate him, and he acknowledged them with nods and a few brief words. They noticed his solemn air and quickly lost their enthusiasm, and they walked back to the gorge in near silence.

There, Arenadd sat down on a rock and waited while the others lit the fire and began to cook the deer, which they had butchered in his absence. He ate what was offered to him but said nothing. Around him the others sang and told stories and talked about the past and the present and the future, but Arenadd only sat and stared at the fire, cold-eyed and brooding. When wine was brought out he drank several cups in quick succession but didn’t break his silence.

Later on in the evening, when things began to quieten down, Arddryn came and sat down beside him. “How are ye?”

Arenadd said nothing.

“I know ye’re feelin’ a little shocked,” said Arddryn. “It’s normal. Nothin’ t’be worried about.”

Silence.

“If ye’re feelin’ bad about Ouen, don’t,” said Arddryn. “He forfeited his life when he killed that griffiner. Only reason we didn’t kill him straight off is because we needed him for the Blood Moon. He understood that. Ye did what ye were supposed to, an’ brought the Blood Moon, an’ that was the final test.”

Finally, Arenadd looked up. “I’m going back,” he said.

Arddryn stared at him. “Back? Back to where?”

“Back to the village,” said Arenadd. “You can’t stop me. I have to see her.”

To his surprise, Arddryn grinned. “I thought ye were thinkin’ that, when ye started askin’ after her. Well, don’t worry; I won’t stop ye. She’ll be expectin’ ye.”

“What?” said Arenadd. “You mean Saeddryn?”

“Of course I do,” said Arddryn. “She likes ye, ye know. She told me so.”

“That’s … nice,” said Arenadd.

“An’ so it should be,” said Arddryn. “I know ye’re good together, an’ that makes things better.”

“I suppose so.”

She prodded him. “Of course, now ye’re a man, ye can take a wife.”

Arenadd thought of Skade. Would she make a good wife? He honestly didn’t know. “I think there’ll be time enough for that,” he said, not really paying attention.

“Aye, an’ that time is now,” said Arddryn. “I meant for ye t’go back to Eitheinn already, ye know. I don’t mean for ye t’stay here an’ do nothin’. Now ye’re initiated, there’s things I want ye t’do.”

“What things?” said Arenadd.

“Things such as—” Arddryn fixed him with her good eye. “Things such as take my Saeddryn as yer wife.”

Arenadd started. “What?”

“Ye heard me,” said Arddryn, unmoved. “Saeddryn will make a good wife for ye, an’ I trust ye to treat her kindly.”

“But I don’t want—”

“What ye want ain’t what matters,” said Arddryn. “I am yer chief, an’ ye swore to obey me. I command ye to honour that an’ marry Saeddryn.”

Arenadd thought quickly of Saeddryn. She was older than him but pretty enough, and brave, too. Fierce, though less fierce than Skade, and less unpredictable and aloof as well. And human. But he knew he couldn’t marry her. “I can’t do that,” he said. “I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

Arddryn put her cup down. “Now ye listen t’me, Arenadd.” She rubbed her hand over her face, over the terrible scar. “I’m old,” she said, her voice suddenly cracking. “Too old. I’m eighty-seven, I’m nearly blind and I can’t lift a sword any more or draw a bow. Some mornin’s I can barely get out of bed. I ain’t gonna be around much longer; I’ve lived beyond my years already. When I die, these men an’ women are goin’ t’need a leader. Ye, Arenadd, are the only one can be that. Ye’re a Taranisäii, a griffiner; ye’re young an’ strong, a fighter an’ already a leader. Yer name has already spread through Cymria, an’ every darkman in Tara knows ye’re an enemy to the griffiners. If ye were t’raise a banner they’d flock to it. But ye can’t do it alone.” She sighed. “Saeddryn an’ me don’t always see eye to eye, an’ not just because I’ve only got the one now. She blamed me ’cause—well, I forbade her t’marry, see. An’ she had men wanted to make her theirs, an’ some she liked enough t’say yes to. But I told her she could marry no-one but another Taranisäii. I believed a man from our line would come here one day, an’ I was right. Now ye’ve come, an’ Saeddryn is very happy. She told me so.”

“She did?”

“Aye. She said, ‘Mother, for a long time I hated ye for what ye forced me t’do, but I swear I’ll never be bitter again. Ye were right. I know he’s the one for me.’ ”

Arenadd grimaced. “I see.”

“So go to her,” said Arddryn. “Tomorrow. Go to Eitheinn an’ ask her t’be yer wife. She’ll be expectin’ ye. Come back here, an’ ye’ll be married at the circle. After that, it’ll be time t’begin. With Saeddryn beside ye, ye can rally the North an’ take the fight back t’the griffiners.”

Arenadd stood up abruptly. “My head hurts. I’m going to bed.”

Arddryn sat back, regarding him coolly. “Sleep well.”

Arenadd turned his back on her and the other Northerners and walked slowly to his shelter, where he quickly slid into a shallow, painful sleep in which the voice of the Night God whispered endlessly.

H
e woke up at dawn the next day to a griffin’s screeching and vile pain in his chest and shoulder that flared up as soon as he moved. The tattoos had bled during the night and glued his skin to the furs beneath him, and once he had pulled himself free and crawled out into the open air they began to bleed again. His head ached, too, and his stomach, and he groaned to himself as he set about trying to clean the tattoos with snow. He managed to get most of the dirt and hair off, and found a roll of bandages in his shelter to cover them with.

He found his robe bundled around his sword where he had left it, and pulled it on. He put the sword aside and began to gather his belongings and stuff them into his pockets. Once the shelter was empty except for his bow and arrows, which he left where they were, he strapped his sword to his back and walked away from the settlement as quietly as he could. No-one else was up yet, and the gorge was still and silent.

Arenadd didn’t stop walking until he was well away from it, up on the plateau at the edge of the trees. From there he could see most of the sky, and the dark shape of a griffin circling over the gorge.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and sent out a call. “
Arenadd! Arenadd!
”

He continued to call until the griffin screeched back and turned to fly toward him. Skandar landed and ran to him. “Arenadd!”

Arenadd scratched him under the beak, feeling strangely relieved to see him. “Skandar. How are you? I haven’t seen you since the day before yesterday.”

“I am good,” Skandar said proudly. He cocked his head. “You hurt?”

“I’m fine,” said Arenadd. “Where did you go yesterday?”

“To valley,” said Skandar. “Hyrenna building nest. Eggs.”

“Has she laid them yet?”

“No,” said Skandar. “Not lay yet. I help build nest, she teach me. When lay eggs, I go.”

“I see. Well, that’s good.” Arenadd took a deep breath. “Skandar, I’m leaving. Now. Today.”

Skandar’s head jerked upward. “What? Go? Go where?”