Unseen in the darkness, Arenadd began to smile. They had the power, and soon they would have a plan. The Night God’s will would be done, and he and Skandar would take everything the world had denied them for so long.
Anyone who stood in their way would die.
5
The Half-Breed
E
rian and Senneck arrived at Elkin’s marble audience chamber and found not one but two people waiting. Two people, and two griffins.
The woman who came forward to meet him looked older than he remembered, and worn. She wore her light brown hair in a braid, and her eyes were as blue as his own. A young grey griffin followed by her side, clicking its beak nervously.
The woman held out a hand to Erian and smiled. “Erian. For a moment I thought you were our father!”
Once Erian might have smiled back at her, but all he saw in that moment was the bundle in her arms. “Flell. Why did you come here?”
There were lines around her eyes now; they deepened as she looked at him. “There was nowhere else to go. Eagleholm’s a ruin. I had to come and join you.”
Erian looked past her to the other person in the room. “You! What are
you
doing here?”
A burly, bearded young man gave him a grin that, to Erian, looked insufferably smug. “Nice t’see yeh again, Erian.”
Erian drew himself up. “That’s
Lord
Erian, you lowborn thug.”
“An’ that’s
Lord
Branton Redguard to you, Bastard,” the man said, taking a step closer toward the red griffin that sat beside him.
Erian stared in outright horror. “
You
, a griffiner?”
The red griffin gave a yawn calculated to cause as much offence as possible. “This man is my human,” she said lazily. “I have brought him here, with Thrain and her own human, who is his mate.”
“His—” Erian turned to Flell. “You, with
him
?”
Flell looked steadily at him. “Bran is my husband.”
“Yeah, that’s right,” said Bran. He put his arm around her. “After all, a man’s gotta look after his own blood.”
Erian’s eyes flicked to the bundle. “I see.”
Flell held up the infant inside for him to see. “Our daughter. She was born on the journey.”
Erian saw the tiny face, the eyes milky blue, looking myopically up at him. He could have been looking at any baby in its mother’s arms, but he knew he wasn’t—even before he saw the wispy hair on the head, already as black as sin.
If his disgust showed on his face, Flell pretended not to notice. “Your niece,” she said, cradling the child to her chest. “Her name’s Laela. Laela Redguard.”
Erian had never been more furious in his life. “What are you
doing
here?” he almost shouted. “What are you doing here in this room, pushing that
thing
in my face? Have you gone completely mad? Do you have any idea what’ll happen when people find out—”
“That’s enough, Erian.” Flell spoke quietly, but her voice cut across his. “No-one is going to find out. Laela is Bran’s daughter, and that’s all there is to it. All we want is a new home, and we need your help.”
“Why should I help you?” said Erian.
“Because you’re my brother,” said Flell. “You’re the only family I have left, apart from Laela. And why would you turn your own sister away?”
Erian opened his mouth to retort, and shut it again when he saw the trap he was in.
Damn her!
“Fine,” he growled. “I’ll try and persuade Elkin to give you a place here.”
“Thanks a lot,” Bran’s rough voice interrupted. “Glad t’have yeh as my brother-in-law.” The grin returned, full of insolence.
Erian resisted the urge to punch it. “But you’re going to stay out of my way, understand?” he said. “And you’re going to keep that—that half-breed brat out of my face. If the truth about this
ever
gets out, to anyone at all, I’ll disown you.”
If Flell was finally going to shout back at him after that, none of them ever found out. The griffins started up suddenly, and everyone there turned as Kraal and Elkin arrived.
The red griffin and the until-now-silent Senneck instantly bowed their heads to their massive elder. He stood over them, focusing his attention on the red griffin. “I do not know you. What griffin are you?”
“I am Kraeya, hatched at Eagleholm,” she said, without looking up. “And this is my human, Branton Redguard.”
Kraal had seen Thrain as well. “And who are you, little one?”
Thrain looked up at him. “I am Thrain,” she chirped. “My human is Flell.”
“More newcomers,” Kraal summarised. “Elkin, speak with them.”
She waited to receive them, hands folded into the wide sleeves of her gown. Flell and Bran both stood in front of her and bowed respectfully as they introduced themselves.
“Ah!” she said on hearing Flell’s name again. “I remember that name now. You’re Erian’s sister, aren’t you?”
Flell, who was a head taller than the Eyrie Mistress, nodded. “It’s an honour to meet you, Lady Elkin.”
“And who’s this?” Elkin added, looking at the child. “Erian never told me he had a nephew!”
“Niece.” Flell smiled. “This is Laela.”
Elkin glanced at Erian. “You must be very proud.”
“Of course.” Smiling at that moment was sheer agony, but he forced himself to keep going. “Lady Elkin, my sister and her husband are looking for a home. After the disaster at Eagleholm, they have nothing left. They came here to ask me for help.”
“Oh, I would never turn away the daughter of Lord Rannagon,” Elkin said at once. “Or a child without a home, for that matter. Of course you can stay. Perhaps they can use your rooms while you’re away, Lord Erian.”
“They’re welcome to them,” said Erian, through gritted teeth.
“Wonderful! Go on, then, why don’t you, and get yourselves settled. You must be tired after your journey.”
Bran bowed to her again. “We won’t forget this, milady. Me an’ Kraeya never had an Eyrie, so we’ll swear ourselves to yeh. I’m sure yeh can find a use for us.”
“We shall be honoured,” Kraeya said gravely.
“Thank you,” said Elkin. “I’ll have a message sent when the proper arrangements have been made.” She nodded, dismissing them all, including Erian. “I will see you later,” she said, every bit the gracious lady. “Oh, Erian?”
He stopped on his way out. “Yes, Eyrie Mistress?”
Elkin smiled at him. “I would be honoured if you would join me for dinner this evening. The dining hall two levels down, at sunset.”
It would be some time before Erian could recover from his rage and his fear, but those words helped to carry him for the rest of that day.
M
idday, and in Saeddryn’s little camp near Wolf’s Town another argument had broken out.
“We can’t go without her,” Annir said yet again.
“She’s left us,” said Saeddryn. “She wants t’be left behind. If she didn’t, she wouldn’t’ve run off.”
“How do you know she didn’t get into trouble?” Annir persisted.
“Then that’s her lookout,” said Cai. “She didn’t want t’stay, an’ we didn’t want her along, either.”
“She ain’t one of us,” Rhodri agreed.
Annir tried a different tack. “What if she gets caught? She could tell them things you don’t want them to know. Have you thought of that?”
They glanced at each other.
“She doesn’t know nothin’,” Saeddryn said at last. “Nobody told her.”
“I still say we should look for her,” said Annir. “Just in case.”
“Well, I don’t,” said Rhodri. “What I say is, the longer we stay here, the more people can find us. We’ve waited for her long enough.”
“You’re right,” a voice interrupted. “There’s no time to waste at all.”
Everyone around the fire froze.
“Who’s that?” Cai exclaimed.
Saeddryn stood up. “I know that voice!”
As if by magic, Arenadd appeared. He walked out from among the trees, looking ragged and exhausted, but there was a smile on his face. Skade was on one side of him and Skandar the other.
Annir ran to him.
“Arren!”
He opened his arms to receive her, and held her tightly without saying a word. She sobbed softly, holding on to him as if she would never let go.
The others were quick to crowd around, all of them talking at once. “How did ye get here?” “What happened?” “Are ye hurt?”
Arenadd let go of his mother and reached out to pat Saeddryn rather awkwardly on the shoulder. “Hello, cousin. It’s good to see you again.”
She grinned disbelievingly at him. “It’s a miracle! I thought we’d lost ye for good!”
Arenadd shrugged. “I’m like a bad cold: impossible to shake off. Come on, let’s all sit down for a bit. We’ve got time for a rest before we go.”
“Go where?” said Saeddryn, as she led the way back to the fire.
“Back to the mountains, of course.” Arenadd sat down.
“We’ve got important things to do. But . . .” He looked down at his bandaged hand. “First things first. Saeddryn, do you know anything about healing?”
“I can help,” Cai piped up.
Arenadd’s mouth tightened. “I need some help. Mum, you should look away.”
She was already moving closer, reaching out. “Let me see. What happened?”
He pulled away gently. “It’s not pretty. Cai—”
Cai took his hand and very carefully peeled off the bandages. Arenadd sat very still, tensing in anticipation. He groaned softly when the last layer came off.
Cai gave a strangled cry of disgust. “Sweet Night God!”
Every single one of Arenadd’s long, slender fingers had been broken—horribly broken. The flesh had turned purple and blue, bulging over crushed bones and mangled joints. They barely looked like fingers any more.
Saeddryn cringed. Skade hissed to herself. Annir cried out and clutched her son’s arm. “My poor sweet boy, what have they done to you?”
Arenadd’s face looked tired and old with pain, and his voice sounded thin. “Every finger was a question. ‘Where are they?’ Snap. ‘How many are there?’ Snap. ‘Who is their leader?’ Snap. ‘Where is Darkheart?’ Snap.”
Saeddryn’s look toward him was full of pity. “I knew they’d do that to ye, Arenadd. I’m sorry.”
“It could have been worse,” he said, with forced good cheer. “Cai, can you do anything?”
Cai was still examining the ruined fingers. “I can splint them, but I don’t have any equipment. It’ll have t’be just sticks an’ string. But even if I had everythin’ I needed, it wouldn’t change much.” She looked steadily at him. “Ye know ye won’t be able t’use them fingers again, don’t ye?”
Arenadd nodded. “I suppose I should thank them, really.”
“For
what
?” Saeddryn exclaimed.
“For letting me keep my right hand.” Arenadd nodded to Cai. “Do it, then, for what it’s worth.”
Cai turned to the others. “Rhodri, could ye go an’ find some sticks? An’ if anyone’s got somethin’ we could use for strings, pass ’em over.”
Arenadd clenched and unclenched his good hand, and sighed. “I’ll never use a long sword again, that’s obvious. Besides, I lost mine. I need a new weapon. Something I can use one-handed.”
“Worry about that later,” said Saeddryn. “Tell me now, Arenadd”—she leant in close—“what did ye tell them?”
Everyone watched him closely, waiting for the reply.
He sighed. “They broke my fingers—”
“I know,” said Saeddryn. “We won’t blame ye. Just tell us the truth. What do they know?”
“They broke my fingers,” Arenadd repeated. “They broke
all
my fingers on that hand before I even started lying.”
Cautious hope showed on Saeddryn’s face. “Lies?”
“You saw me,” said Arenadd. “When they caught me.”
“Ravin’ like a lunatic,” said Davyn. “I thought—”
“So did they,” said Arenadd. “I thought, they all think I’m mad. Why not let them go on thinking it? So I kept pretending. Did everything I could think of. Sang all night, talked to walls. I did everything short of wearing my pants on my head. And then I bit half the captain’s ear off, but that was just me losing my temper.”
Rhodri and Davyn both sniggered, but Saeddryn didn’t even smile. “So they know nothin’? Ye didn’t give anythin’ away?”
“Not a thing,” said Arenadd. “They decided I was too deranged to be any help, so after the fingers they stopped torturing me.”
Saeddryn rubbed a hand over her face. “What about the others, then? Up at the Throne? Ye were the last t’see them.”
“Don’t worry about them,” said Arenadd. “I saw what had happened at Eitheinn and gave your—gave
her
a warning. They’ll all be long gone by now.”