“Don’t be daft,” said Kerod. He closed the book. “You and I, young Erian, are griffiners, and that’s all anyone, darkmen or otherwise, should be calling us.” He walked over to the cabinet and put the book back inside. “Anyway, now that’s sorted out, I think I’m ready for a little lunch. Care to join us?”
“Of course.”
Accordingly, the four of them retired to Kerod’s own rather larger chambers and made themselves comfortable while a servant went to get some food. Erian was surprised to see that the servant, like most of those in the Eyrie, was a Northerner.
“I’m surprised you employ them,” he said.
“Why shouldn’t we?” said Kerod.
“Oh. Well, it’s just that …” Erian paused, feeling inexplicably embarrassed. “I don’t know; I just assumed that all the Northerners here were slaves.”
Kerod threw back his head and laughed. “Hah! You young Southerners have some funny ideas, don’t you?”
“I don’t understand, my lord,” Erian said rather stiffly. He hated being laughed at.
“Don’t get me wrong, there
are
slaves here,” said Kerod. “Not as many as you might think. See, we use slavery as punishment. If you aren’t born a slave, you can be made one by breaking the law. After that, you’re sold somewhere. Usually to somewhere further south, but we also sell plenty of slaves in Amoran as well. The Amorani have the biggest slave trade in the world, and they do like Northerners. Need plenty of labour to build those giant statues of theirs, I suppose. But most of the darkmen here are free, so why shouldn’t we give them jobs? They outnumber us, for Gryphus’ sake.”
Erian blanched. “They do?”
Kerod nodded. “Hundreds to one,” he said carelessly. “But there are about a hundred griffiners living here, and plenty of unpartnered griffins, too. They don’t dare rebel. The last time—well, everybody knows about that, don’t they?”
Erian nodded. “But aren’t there still some rebels hiding further north? That’s what I heard. And this Arddryn—”
“Oh, there’s a few, I’ll grant,” said Kerod. “Fugitives, runaway slaves, outlaws. We’ve caught some over the years and got enough out of them to know they’re there. There’s only a handful of ’em hanging on. Land’s too inhospitable to support large numbers, see; most likely they’re barely able to feed themselves, let alone cause any mischief.”
“Just one Northerner is enough,” Erian said darkly. “In the right place.”
Kerod looked keenly at him for a moment and then nodded. “Ah, right. Yes. You came here from Eagleholm, didn’t you? Yes. Terrible story that was. Really a Northerner who did it, then?”
“Yes. I met him.”
Kerod’s eyes widened. “You did? Good gods, what was he like?”
Lunch arrived at that point, and while the four of them ate, Erian told the story of his meeting with Arren Cardockson.
“I didn’t think much of him,” he confessed. “I went to the hatchery looking for Lord Roland. I wanted to present myself to the griffins. But when I got there, the only person inside was a Northerner, wearing a slave collar and sweeping the floor.”
“What did he look like?” said Kerod.
“Like a beggar,” said Erian. “Dirty and scruffy, and wearing that collar. I thought he was a slave, of course, so I asked him where his master was. But when he talked, I was amazed. There he was—this blackrobe with a beard like an old carpet, and he talked like a noble.”
“Educated?”
“Oh yes,” said Erian. “Lord Roland taught him, gave him the training after he became a griffiner. But of course after his griffin died he lost everything. They say he lost his mind after the wild griffin killed his partner. I didn’t see anything of his madness then; he was very rude, but he seemed perfectly sane to me.” Erian sighed and picked at his food. “It was that same night he stole the chick. Right after I left, probably. I saw him the next day, at his trial. He was … insane. His face was torn open, his clothes were burned. He told all sorts of terrible lies to the council, blamed everything he’d done on my father, claimed he’d been victimised and beaten on his orders. And then after he was given the death sentence he went mad and started screaming that he was going to kill my father. He even tried to attack him right there; they had to drag him out, fighting every step of the way.”
“By gods,” said Kerod. “That must have been a sight to see.” He scratched his chin. “The stories about him being a griffiner are really true, then.”
Erian nodded. “I never saw his partner, but I know her name was Eluna. He came back to Eagleholm on the same day I arrived.”
“So, you’re Lord Rannagon’s son?” said Kerod.
“I am, my lord.”
“That’s a lineage to be proud of,” Kerod remarked. He yawned. “I don’t doubt we’ll work well together. Lady Elkin seemed to think you were a promising young man.”
Erian brightened up. “What can you tell me about her? I’m—I’m curious about her, and Kraal, too.” He cast a quick glance at Senneck, but she was crouched on the far side of the room with Eekrae, apparently deep in conversation with the other griffin.
Kerod poured himself some wine. “I take it you were surprised when you saw her?”
“Well, yes,” said Erian. “I had no idea. When I came here I was expecting—”
“Some old lady in velvet?” said Kerod, grinning.
Erian thought briefly of his aunt, Lady Riona, and her aged dignity. “Honestly, yes.”
“That’s what they all expect,” said Kerod. He took a swallow of wine. “Hmm, good vintage, this. Try some. There’s a little bit of a story behind that, if you want to hear it.”
“Oh, please tell me,” said Erian, helping himself to some wine. “I’d love to know.”
“All right, then. It all starts with Kraal, really. Most of the griffins living here were born in the North, but nobody really knows exactly where Kraal came from. I was just a boy when he came here, and he was huge even then. It’s said he spent most of his earlier life flying from city to city, going wherever he chose. Supposedly he’s the biggest griffin ever seen in Cymria. Powerful, too. Powerfully magical. Powers even other griffins are afraid of.
“Anyway, Kraal didn’t have a partner, but everyone knew that if he ever did choose a human for himself that human would become a Master or Mistress straight away. But he wouldn’t choose anyone. People said he was so powerful he thought he was above that sort of thing, and can you really blame him? He lived in the North for a while, visited Malvern a few times, but never stayed long. And then one day, one day—completely out of the blue—he chooses someone. And it’s not a great lord or a mighty warrior; instead it’s Lord Hemant’s sickly daughter. Only twelve, and nearly mute. Most people thought she was touched in the head and wouldn’t live to marry.”
“Elkin,” Erian breathed.
Kerod nodded. “But after Kraal chose her, everything changed. She started speaking, she got stronger and—well, you know the rest. She was made Mistress of the Eyrie the instant Lord Anech died, a year or so later.”
Erian gaped at him. “She was—she became an Eyrie Mistress when she was
thirteen
?”
“Don’t be fooled,” Kerod said sharply. “I know what you’re thinking. Many, many people here were against it. They said it was insanity letting her become Mistress. But Kraal had chosen her, and nobody dared stand in
his
way. It didn’t take long for us to see what was going on—or
think
we saw, anyway. We thought he chose her because she was tiny and weak, so he could make every decision for her and she would do as he said. Of course no griffiner would do anything without consulting their griffin, but an Eyrie Mistress completely controlled by her partner? Unthinkable.”
Erian thought of Senneck’s threats at Herbstitt. “Yes.”
Kerod shrugged. “But we were wrong. All of us were wrong, and we were proven wrong less than a week after Elkin was named Mistress. That girl—that girl has the finest mind I have ever seen in my life. The whole taxation system we have now—all her idea. She reorganised all the trade routes, renewed the most important relations with our neighbours. We had plenty of officials who weren’t doing their jobs properly. They were lazy or incompetent or corrupt, but they came from good families or had money, and Anech hadn’t dared do anything because he couldn’t afford to have them turn on him. Well, that’s not a problem any more. They’re all gone. Elkin booted every single one of ’em out of office or forced ’em to reform, and when some of ’em tried to rebel they didn’t last half a day.”
Erian listened. “She gave you your post, didn’t she?”
“That she did. I’m only from a minor house, see, which means I couldn’t get much in the way of status. Eekrae and I spent our time working for the Master of Farms, flying around the villages and talking to farmers and so on. But Elkin showed the old Master the door, and gave us his place.”
Erian grinned. “
Now
I think I understand why you like her so much.”
A shrug. “What did you think of her?”
That caught Erian off guard. “Oh. Well.” He thought about it for a moment. “I was surprised at first, when I saw her. Kraal—
he
scared me. Scared both of us, actually. I didn’t think Senneck was afraid, but afterward she confessed to me.” He glanced at her, hoping she wasn’t listening in. “She said he was the biggest griffin she’d ever seen, and she spent the whole meeting thinking about how he could tear her head off in one go if he wanted to.”
Kerod grinned. “Yes, most people think that sort of thing around him. Griffins too, probably. And Elkin? What did you think of her?”
“My lord, I liked her,” Erian said. The words seemed to fall out of him, taking him by surprise, but he knew they were the truth. “Is she betrothed?” he added, without thinking.
“Not so far as I know,” said Kerod. “She tends to keep away from men. She
will
have to marry eventually, though. When it suits her.”
Erian wished he hadn’t asked, and drank some more wine to cover the moment. “We talked for a long time,” he said. “She asked me questions about where I’d come from and about what happened at Eagleholm. It was like—well, it wasn’t like having an audience with an Eyrie Mistress at all. It was like chatting to a friend. And then she told me I could stay, just casually, like it was nothing at all, and said she wanted me to become your assistant.”
Kerod nodded. “Surprised you, didn’t it?”
“Yes,” said Erian. He smiled involuntarily, remembering it. He and Senneck had discussed it afterward, and though the griffin had misgivings, he knew what it must mean. Elkin hadn’t spoken to him like an underling but like a friend. She liked him, and that was why—
“She’s very clever,” said Kerod, interrupting his thoughts. “See, she talks to everybody like that. It’s her way. How did it make you feel?”
Erian gaped at him. “Uh—I—uh—relaxed? Welcome?”
“Exactly. She put you at your ease, acted like a friend. She isn’t one to interrogate people or scare them into giving her information. She charms them instead, makes them want to tell her things.”
Erian crumbled inside. “Oh.”
“Fooled you, didn’t she?” said Kerod. “You didn’t even realise she was doing it, did you?”
“No,” Erian mumbled.
“Not many people do,” said Kerod, in what he probably thought was a reassuring voice. “I told you she was clever.”
Erian realised that Senneck was giving him a warning glare. “Yes indeed, my lord. It will be an honour to serve her.”
“No need to call me that,” said Kerod. “Kerod will do fine. We’re equals here, Erian.”
That cheered him up very slightly. “Of course, my l—Kerod.”
Kerod yawned. “Well, if you’ve finished eating then we should probably make our way back to the office an’ see if we can’t get some work done.”
Erian was still hungry, but he nodded anyway. The prospect of spending an afternoon thumbing through the Book of Farms was a dismal one, but Senneck had already impressed on him the importance of making a good impression as quickly as possible.
Back in the office, Kerod sat him down at the desk and gave him a more thorough explanation of how he was to use the book. He had to go through it and check each entry against the stack of reports that had been brought in for that month, to see if each village still had its full complement of each resource. It was a tedious process, but straightforward enough, and once Erian had grasped it Kerod said, “And there you go. Now I’ve got some papers to sort through while you’re doing that.”
Senneck had been standing silently behind Erian’s chair while all this was going on, listening to everything and ignoring Eekrae, who was watching her hopefully from a spot by the door. Erian, well aware of her watchful gaze, dipped the reed stylus in the ink and set to work.
Senneck stayed where she was for a long time, occasionally pointing out a mistake or helping him find something in the endless lists of figures. Eekrae, bored, dozed beside the door, and Kerod wandered here and there, rifling through cupboards in search of something or other. Eventually he looked up at the two of them and said, “That’s a helpful griffin you have, Erian. I couldn’t get Eekrae to do that if his life depended on it.” He grinned when Senneck looked up at him. “Doesn’t like to let you out of her sight, does she? What is she, your partner or your nursemaid?”