The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy) (58 page)

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Authors: K. J. Taylor

BOOK: The Griffin's War (Fallen Moon Trilogy)
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And yet, in spite of his cousin’s objections, it hadn’t happened. Arenadd doubted that it would. A lot had changed in the world since the dark days of Arddryn’s rebellion. And Eagleholm, Malvern’s greatest ally, no longer existed. Without even realising it, Arenadd had struck the first blow for the rebellion the night he killed Lord Rannagon and set fire to the Eyrie.
Now Arenadd stood with Skandar and looked down on the city he had transformed into a garrison for his army. Griffins were everywhere, festooning the outer walls or flying overhead in huge circles. They had made nests all over the place, even outside the walls, and despite Arenadd’s complaints, they were eating every animal they could find in the city.
“My lord?”
Arenadd looked over his shoulder and saw Iorwerth—Lord Iorwerth, as people called him now. Kaanee was with him, as always.
“Hello, Iorwerth,” said Arenadd, speaking griffish. “And you, Kaanee.”
“My lord, I wanted a word with ye if ye don’t mind,” said Iorwerth, reverting to Cymrian.
“Of course I don’t mind,” said Arenadd. “Please, come and join me.”
Iorwerth came to his side, while the two griffins sniffed companionably at each other. “I wanted t’ask ye something, lord.”
Arenadd glanced at him. Becoming a griffiner and discovering the level of respect it had brought him from other people had changed Iorwerth. He wore fine clothes taken from the griffiners’ rooms in the tower and on his back even carried one of their swords, which he had proved very talented with. But more than that was the way he carried himself. He had shed the instinctive half-crouch and submissive hunched shoulders most city-dwelling Northerners had. He had stopped looking for approval every time he spoke. Now he carried himself like a lord.
“Yes?” said Arenadd, his voice warm with appreciation.
“My lord, we can’t stay here long,” said Iorwerth. “I’ve talked with Saeddryn an’ Nerth; they agree, an’ so does Kaanee.”
“Yes, I know,” said Arenadd. “I’ve been thinking about it, too.”
“It’s just that we’re runnin’ out of supplies, my lord,” said Iorwerth. “Especially for the griffins.”
Arenadd nodded. Rather than burn or bury them, he had instructed the unpartnered to eat the bodies of the dead men and griffins. The corpses had sustained them for a long time but wouldn’t last forever.
“An’ besides that—”
Kaanee butted in. “The unpartnered grow restless, Lord Arenadd,” he said. “They are asking me when we shall finally attack Malvern.”
“I understand,” said Arenadd.
“Then we must go!” said Kaanee. “The time is ripe! The unpartnered constantly ask me when we shall go, and they are at their strongest and most eager now, and Malvern at its most demoralised.”
“An’ the sooner we attack, the less likely it’ll be for Malvern to call in reinforcements from the South,” Iorwerth added. “We’ve got the upper hand, my lord, but if we don’t act soon we’ll lose it.”
“I know,” said Arenadd.
“Then when shall we go?” said Kaanee.
“Not yet.”
“When?”
said Kaanee. “Why do we wait, Lord Arenadd? If you agree that this is the time—”
“It isn’t,” said Arenadd. “But it will be soon.”
“Why?” said Iorwerth. “When?”
“When Skade returns,” Arenadd said finally. “When the slaves come home.
Then
it will be the time.”
“Slaves?” said Kaanee. He sounded nonplussed. “Why are they so important? They cannot fight; we do not need them to destroy Malvern.”
“I promised I would wait,” said Arenadd. “And I know they’ll come soon. All we have to do is wait a little longer.”
“I want go,” Skandar cut in unexpectedly. “Want to fly, go to Malvern.
Kill!
”
“Not now,” said Arenadd.
“Maybe I go without you,” said Skandar.
Arenadd gave him a challenging stare. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Skandar met his gaze for a moment, and then relaxed.
“Kreeee,”
he trilled. “No, not go without you. Always bring you.”
“Yes, and you’ll need me to command the humans on the ground when we attack,” said Arenadd.
“My lord, why should we wait for the slaves?” said Iorwerth.
“We do not know when they will come, or if they will come, at all.”
“Because when I destroy Malvern, I want the world to know why,” said Arenadd. “I want this victory to be symbolic, not just physical. If I attack Malvern with a thousand slaves behind me, it will show all of Cymria that the darkmen have taken their spirit back.
All
darkmen, even the slaves. And they will come. I know it.”
“How?” said Kaanee.
Arenadd stared at him icily. “I know it,” he said again. “Trust me.”
 
 
 
I
n the Eyrie at Malvern, the Mighty Kraal sat in the weak sunlight with Elkin beside him. The last few months had taken a toll on him, too. He looked thinner and smaller. Everybody knew he was supposed to be old, but now his age was finally beginning to show. His white and gold feathers were dull and patchy, and there was a dim look to his eyes, as if he was ill or tired.
He looked down at Elkin. He knew he wasn’t as strong as he had been, but she was far weaker. The sickness had made her even frailer than before, and deep down the white griffin knew she would never be as strong as she had been.
“Do you feel better now?” he asked softly.
She coughed. “A little.”
He wrapped a wing around her, sheltering her from the wind. “That is good.”
Elkin leant against him, snuggling into his warm feathers. “Will he come back, Kraal?” she asked plaintively. “Will he come?”
“He is
Aeai ran kai
,” said Kraal. “He must come. It is how the future must be.”
Elkin didn’t seem to hear him. “I still don’t know,” she said. “I still don’t understand.”
Kraal—nobody had called him mighty in a long time—leant down close to her. “What do you not understand?” he asked.
“How can this be real?” said Elkin. “This . . . prophecy, people call it.”
“It is real,” said Kraal. “I have always known it.”
“But there’s good in him, Kraal,” said Elkin. “I know. I’ve seen it.”
Kraal looked away. “There is no humanity left in
Kraeai kran ae
,” he said in a flat, final tone. “He has long since given up his soul, and his heart with it. Only blackness remains. His hatred will destroy us all if Erian does not succeed.”
“But he looked as if he cared,” said Elkin. “He was kind to me. He nursed me himself when I was ill, as if I were his own family. He was kind,” she repeated.
“Perhaps he wished to fool you,” said Kraal. “He is cunning. But he cannot feel love or compassion, Elkin.
Cannot
. Those are emotions only a living creature with an intact soul can feel. He is no longer human, Elkin. You know it.”
Elkin looked away and said nothing.
Kraal, feeling tired and depressed, lay down beside her and rested his head on his talons.
Sea and sky help me, how can this have happened? How could they have betrayed us like this? How could
. . .
He had lost his anger a long time ago. Now only misery was left.
Of all the terrible things that had happened since
Kraeai kran ae
had begun his vile campaign, the betrayal by the unpartnered had shocked Kraal the most. That he, the Mighty Kraal, could have his glory stolen from him so easily, that his fellow griffins could choose to follow that most evil of humans and his twisted, dark-furred partner . . .
Some of his anger returned at the thought, and disgust as well.
Your arrogance and your cowardice have made you slaves of the Night God,
he thought.
You fools. Do you think
Kraeai kran ae
will let you share in his power if you help him seize this land from me? He will betray you, and you will die along with us
.
He breathed deeply, trying to calm himself down. It was too early to despair. Malvern was under the protection of the Day God; he would never let darkness triumph. He would find a solution . . .
had
found a solution. It would stop
Kraeai kran ae
. The champion of the light would triumph.
Kraal looked down on Elkin, who had slipped into an uneasy doze.
For a long time I believed you were the one,
he thought.
My poor, frail little human. But you could never be
Aeai ran kai.
Not now I know the other signs. And if you were, your body is too weak and your mind too full of doubts. No
. . .
A little while later, he, too, slept.
In his dreams,
he
came.
The mighty male griffin, huge and powerful, his golden feathers shining with light. Flames burned at the end of his tail, and his head was haloed in sunlight that glowed in his eyes.
Kraal bent his forelegs and bowed low. “Master.”
Peace, Kraal,
said the griffin.
You must remain steadfast. You must not surrender
.
“I never shall, master,” said Kraal.
That is what you said when we first met, Mighty Kraal, do you remember?
“I forget nothing,” said Kraal.
You were a youngster then,
Gryphus whispered.
When you fought me and I gave you your powers, along with my blessing
.
“I have always tried to do your will, master,” said Kraal. “Ever since the day I knew you were real.”
In particular when you chose Baragher the Blessed as your partner and whispered your secrets to him,
said Gryphus.
And when you led his descendant to invade the North and destroy the Night God’s people
.
“Yes,” said Kraal. “Gryphus—”
Peace,
Gryphus said again.
You and I have always known she would strike back one day, and we have prepared for it
. Aeai ran kai
shall come
.
Kraal raised his head. “But when, master? When? We are so weakened. We have lost more in half a year than we did in the whole of Arddryn’s rebellion.”
Once you thought she was the Night God’s avatar,
Gryphus remarked.
You have become short-sighted over time, Mighty Kraal. But do not despair. There is always hope, and I shall never abandon you or my people. Now listen, for I have more to tell you
. . .
Kraal listened, as the Day God spoke on.
You must tell him,
the god finished.
“I shall,” said Kraal. “I swear, master.”
Rest, then,
said Gryphus.
The boy shall return soon
.
 
 
F
ar away, in his comfortable bed in Fruitsheart, Arenadd stirred in his sleep and knocked over the jug of wine he had left lying beside him. In his head, the Night God whispered.
The boy shall return soon,
she said.
Soon the Day God’s champion will be ready. But you must wait. When the collared ones return, so shall Erian Rannagonson. On that day, you will be ready
.
Arenadd’s lips moved in his sleep, mounthing the words he said in his dream. “I will be ready, master. I swear.”
And so shall I, my dear warrior. So shall I
.
34
 
Homecoming
 
E
rian had often tried to imagine what it would be like when he returned to Malvern, and he thought of it more and more during the slow journey back.
In the end, like so many other things in his life, it was far less glorious than he had thought it would be.
Senneck flew over the city’s outer wall and toward the Eyrie, her wings beating slowly and wearily. She had pushed herself very hard over the last few weeks, and for her there was very little emotion in their return except dull relief.
Erian, looking at the city from her back, felt shock thud into his chest.
The city looked almost deserted—where had all the people gone? Worse, the griffins he remembered circling constantly overhead were also gone. The banners that hung from the Eyrie’s walls were dirty and tattered. Strangely, though, he could see a handful of others down in the city, but they had designs on them he didn’t recognise. They looked like animals of some sort.
Malvern, once a bustling metropolis, looked like a ghost town.
For a few horrible moments, Erian thought he was too late. What if the Dark Lord had already come? What if they were all dead?
But then he saw a handful of griffins flying around the towers of the Eyrie and almost groaned in relief. He wasn’t too late.

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