Arenadd’s heart sank.
“Have mountains now,” Skandar said arrogantly. “Now they mine. My territory. You come. Tomorrow.”
“And the female stays behind,” Skade finished. She gave Skandar a deathly look. “So now the mystery is solved. I wondered, for a long time.”
“So did I,” said Arenadd.
“Yes. That a griffin of his size and power—a
wild
griffin—would do what a mere human told him, and refrain from eating other humans—” Skade spat. “So, that was your great power. The mutterings of some spirits, and a promise you intended to break. And tomorrow our time together comes to an end.”
Arenadd reached out to her. “Skade—”
Skade turned her back on him and went to sit on a heap of straw in the corner, well away from him. Arenadd watched her unhappily but couldn’t think of anything to say.
Skandar didn’t appear to care either way. “Come now,” he said, and shepherded his human to a spot in one of the horses’ stalls, where he dragged some straw together into a crude nest and then lay down in it. Arenadd sat down beside him, hugging his knees.
Skandar took a drink from the horse trough and then settled down with a contented sigh. Arenadd, watching him, wondered yet again why he didn’t hate the griffin. He was so selfish, so brutishly strong—and yet so innocent, even vulnerable.
He really is like a big child,
Arenadd thought.
He tried to imagine what it would be like spending the rest of his life up in the mountains with Skandar. Would he ever speak to another human being again? Would Skandar force him to stay in the wild, away from civilisation forever? No, almost certainly not. They would return from time to time, he knew, to steal cattle for food. And possibly more than that. If Skandar no longer believed that he had to please his human, then nothing could stop him from eating other humans.
And he would never see Skade again.
His thoughts were interrupted a short time later by Saeddryn, who came in dragging the whole carcass of a deer. “I’m sorry for the wait,” she said. “Just a moment an’ I’ll bring food for ye, Arenadd, and yer friend.”
Skandar roused himself and tore into the deer before Saeddryn had even let go of it. She grinned nervously and darted out the door, emerging a moment later with two bowls of food. After that she left again.
Arenadd’s bowl was full of stew and topped with two slices of bread and cheese. He tucked in gratefully; this was his first proper meal in several days. While the three of them ate, Saeddryn returned several times, bringing a tub of water, soap, blankets and clothes for Skade and Arenadd.
Once Arenadd had eaten, he washed himself and put on the clothes. They fitted quite well, but he felt strange to be wearing an ordinary tunic for the first time in months. He washed his hair as well and sat back in the straw to comb it into shape.
“You are
always
grooming your hair,” said Skade, breaking her silence.
Arenadd glanced at her. “Hair like mine tangles easily, you know, especially when it’s this long. I might be a fugitive, but that doesn’t mean I have to look like a beggar. You could try it yourself.”
Skade dragged her fingers through her hair and muttered something under her breath.
Saeddryn returned with more blankets. “Here, ye can bed down in the straw with these. I know it’ll be rough next to what ye must’ve had back at Eagleholm.”
Arenadd got up to help her. “Oh no, not at all. Straw will be fine.” He smiled at her as he helped her to pile some straw in the stall next to Skandar’s. “Back home, I slept in a hammock.”
“A hammock?” Saeddryn repeated. She scratched her head. “Ye gods, I always thought griffiners slept in feather beds an’ suchlike.”
“A feather bed?” said Arenadd. “Don’t be ridiculous. Those things cost a thousand oblong each. I couldn’t afford something like that. Anyway, I lived on the edge of the city. There were rules about how much furniture you could have.”
“Really? Ye must tell me about it,” said Saeddryn. “I’d love to know more. I’ve never been in a city or inside an Eyrie.” She reached out to smooth the corner of the blanket, accidentally touching Arenadd’s hand in the process. “Sorry.”
Arenadd backed away slightly. “Thank you so much, Saeddryn. You’ve been a great help to us.”
“It’s nothing,” said Saeddryn. “Ye’re a friend to us, like I said. There’s not a man or woman in this village wouldn’t do everythin’ in their power to help ye, once they know ye killed Lord Rannagon.”
“He was here?”
Saeddryn nodded. “Not in Eitheinn, but in the villages further south. He led a group of griffiners, chased Lady Arddryn’s friends northward, an’ massacred ’em, along with anyone who’d helped ’em. The people what live here now, most of’em are survivors or descended from ’em. There’s not many left in the North doesn’t remember his name an’ hate it, an’ they’ll love the man what killed him.” The bed was finished, and she straightened up. “Now, is there anythin’ more ye need?”
“Just one thing,” said Arenadd. “Could I have a needle and some thread? And if you’ve got any cloth, I need that, too.”
“I’ll go an’ see,” said Saeddryn, and left.
She returned with a spool of thread with a needle stuck in it, and a large fur slung over her shoulder. “No cloth I could find, but ye can cut up a blanket if ye want. I brought ye this wolf skin, though, in case ye could use it.”
Arenadd fingered it. “Yes, this should work. Thank you.”
“Anythin’ else ye need?” said Saeddryn. “More food?”
Arenadd looked at Skade, but she was still sitting on her straw stool and looked disinclined to move. Skandar was busy pecking at the remains of his deer.
“No, I think that’s all we need.”
Saeddryn bowed and smiled. “If ye think of anythin’, I’ll be in the house. Goodnight, Arenadd, and the moon’s light bless ye.”
Arenadd returned the bow. “And the moon’s light bless you, too, Saeddryn,” he said, speaking the Northern tongue.
Saeddryn looked shocked for a moment, but she recovered herself and left.
Skade stood up, “I am going to sleep,” she said.
Arenadd was busy threading the needle. “I’m going to stay up for a while. I’ve got some work to do.”
Skade ignored him and climbed a ladder up to the ledge where Skandar had perched; she curled up with her back to Arenadd.
“You can have the bed—” Arenadd called, and then thought better of it and decided to leave her alone. Skade showed no sign of having heard him, anyway.
Skandar finished gnawing on a bone and wandered back to his nest. “Sleep now, human.”
“I’ll be here, Skandar,” said Arenadd. “Sleep well.”
He finished threading the needle and put it down next to his seat before he went and fetched his robe from the nail it was hanging on. He took one of the blankets off the bed and brought it back as well, and used his dagger to cut a piece out of it. Once he’d shaped it, he turned the robe inside out and began to stitch the patch into place.
The night wore on, but Arenadd didn’t feel tired. He rarely did any more. He sat on the overturned bucket, patching or darning every hole in the robe, pausing occasionally to re-thread the needle.
The oil in the lamp began to burn down, and he roused himself from his work and rubbed his neck. Skandar was fast asleep in his nest. Up on the ledge, Skade had rolled onto her other side, one arm hanging partway over the edge. Arenadd could see her face, its sharp features softened by sleep.
He sighed and took a blanket up the ladder for her. She stirred when he laid it over her, but didn’t wake up, and he climbed back down the ladder and returned to his work. The lamp had nearly burned itself out by the time he was finished, and he snuffed it out and trudged over to his straw bed, yawning and carrying the robe in one hand.
The bed was prickly but comfortable enough, and he curled up under his robe and went to sleep.
For the first time in weeks, no nightmares visited him.
A
renadd woke up at dawn and crawled out of bed; Skade and Skandar were still asleep. He put on his robe and crept out of the barn, taking his sword with him just in case.
Outside, it was far colder than he had expected. An icy wind was blowing down off the mountains, carrying a few snow-flakes with it, and the sky was grey.
The villagers were already out and about, of course. Several figures were visible in the fields just beyond the village, and a pair of boys were herding a flock of black sheep out to graze. A woman was busy grinding flour with a small hand-mill, and two men were tanning a fresh hide.
They were quick to see Arenadd. As he wandered out into the village’s single street, heads turned to stare at him. Conversations were hushed into silence, and when Arenadd got too close to anyone they edged away, trying not to look him in the face. He thought of trying to speak with them, but the sight of all those pale, watchful faces made him feel depressed; he walked back toward Saeddryn’s home.
As he neared it, Saeddryn emerged from behind the house, warmly dressed and leading a small, shaggy pony. She started when she saw him. “Arenadd!”
Arenadd nodded to her. “Good morning.”
“Why are ye wearin’ that?” said Saeddryn.
Arenadd touched the sleeve of his robe. “I fixed it last night. Thanks for the thread.”
He’d stitched up or patched all the tears and had used the wolf skin to line as much of the inside as possible, for warmth.
Saeddryn, however, looked less than happy. “Why would ye want to wear it? I gave ye new clothes; didn’t they fit?”
“They did, but I prefer to wear this,” said Arenadd.
“Arenadd, ye’re wearin’ a slave’s robe,” said Saeddryn. “Ain’t ye ashamed? D’ye want to be called a blackrobe wherever ye go?”
“My father made this robe for me,” said Arenadd. “Our people used to wear them into battle. Why should I be ashamed?”
Saeddryn stared at him for a moment and then burst out laughing. “Into battle? Ye don’t believe that story, do ye?”
“That’s what my father told me,” said Arenadd, with a lot less certainty.
“Well, I don’t want to insult his memory, but yer father was wrong,” said Saeddryn. “The idea of it—wearin’
robes
in a fight!” She laughed again. “Have ye tried it? The thing would snag on every bush ye passed an’ ye’d be dead in a heartbeat!”
Heartbeat
. Arenadd shivered despite himself. “So, only slaves ever wore robes like this?”
“No.” Saeddryn became serious. “No, those were what our kings wore.”
Arenadd went rigid.
“What?”
“Aye, kings.” Saeddryn nodded. “Did ye not know that? Has the whole world forgotten? We had kings once. That was who Taranis was. He was king of the North, an’ he wore a robe woven from black wolf fur. The circle up there, Taranis’ Throne, that’s where he was crowned. The Night God had chosen him, see, marked him out to lead us, but after he was killed an’ the North was taken by griffiners, they changed that. They made slaves wear robes like his, so it’d be shameful always an’ forever to wear one.”
Arenadd rubbed his neck. “So I’m wearing a king’s robe. I don’t see why I should be ashamed of that. Anyway, this is all I’ve got to remember my dad. He told me not to be ashamed, and so I won’t. Never again.”
Saeddryn was looking at him with something like admiration. “Well,” she said, trying to restrain the pony, which had begun to shy away from Arenadd, “I won’t tell ye what ye should an’ shouldn’t wear. Where’s Skandar?”
“Still in the barn,” said Arenadd. “I think we should let him sleep a while. He needs it.”
She nodded. “I want to be at the circle with ye, but ye’ll reach it ahead of me, so I’ll leave first. I know a quick way. I was just comin’ to wake ye now.”
“So, how do we get to this circle?” said Arenadd. “Do you know how to find it from the air?”
“It’s easy,” said Saeddryn. “The circle is just beyond the mountains, on a flat piece of ground. Ye’ll see it at once, but I warn ye, land outside it. Don’t go among the stones, not for any reason.”
Arenadd nodded. “I’ll remember.”
“Now, I should go,” said Saeddryn. She mounted the pony, tugging hastily on the reins when it gave another nervous jerk, “Damn ye, yer daft animal, what’s wrong with ye?”
Arenadd backed off. “Sorry; I probably smell like griffin.”
She managed to calm the animal down. “That’s better. I’ll take the shortest route; that should get me there by noon, an’ I’ll meet ye at the circle.”
“What about Skade?” said Arenadd. “Will she be all right here on her own?”
“She’ll be cared for, don’t worry,” said Saeddryn. “Tell her she’s welcome in my house while we’re gone; there’ll be food enough there for her.”
“I want her to feel safe,” said Arenadd. “She doesn’t like being too close to people or being asked a lot of questions; she’s happiest if she’s left alone.”