The Dark Griffin - K. J. Taylor Page 0,24

wonder what he came to talk to Riona about.”

Someone coughed. Arren turned, surprised, and saw a man standing a short distance away. There was a griffin by his side.

“Lord Rannagon!” he exclaimed. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Rannagon smiled. “Not a problem. I’m glad to see you here, Arren. I was afraid something might have happened to you.”

“I’m sorry, my lord, I got held up.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” said Rannagon.

Arren bowed to Rannagon’s griffin. “I am pleased to see you, Shoa.”

Shoa clicked her beak. “And I you, Arren Cardockson.” She raised her head, neck feathers shivering, and looked down on Eluna. “And you, Eluna.”

Eluna bowed her head, saying nothing.

Rannagon yawned. “Aaah . . . excuse me. I had a rather late night. Shall we go now?”

“Yes, my lord.”

They walked off along the corridor and up a flight of stairs into a different part of the Eyrie. This was Rannagon’s domain, where he lived with his wife, Kaelyn, and where he did much of his work. The old man opened the door to his office and showed Arren in. “Sorry about the mess. Please, sit down. Can I get you something?”

Arren sat on a chair in front of the desk, which was piled high with papers. There was a fireplace in one wall, and a steaming kettle hung over the fire. “I—” He was about to politely decline, but the sweet smell of stewing herbs changed his mind.

“Yes, thank you.”

Shoa took up position next to Rannagon’s chair, while he crossed to the fireplace and filled two mugs from the kettle. He gave one to Arren and sat down on the other side of the desk. “Now then, I have had a report from Captain Bran; he tells me the raid went fairly smoothly. But he added that it did not go as smoothly as we would have liked.” He looked pointedly at Eluna.

Eluna understood the human tongue perfectly well, even if her vocal cords didn’t allow her to speak it. “The man was a smuggler and a chick-thief,” she said. “He had attacked Arren and was trying to escape. So I killed him.”

“And ate him?” Rannagon said sharply.

Eluna bowed her head. “I was hungry, my blood was up—”

Shoa leant forward over the desk and bit her on the forehead, hard enough to draw blood. “You must learn to control yourself,” she said. “You are not a wild griffin, Eluna.”

Eluna didn’t dare look her in the eye. “I am sorry, Shoa. I will try to be more careful in future.”

“And you, Arren?” said Rannagon, looking keenly at him. “What was your reaction to this?”

“He stopped me,” said Eluna. “He stood up to me until I calmed down.”

Rannagon looked at the bandage. “And?”

“The smuggler injured me,” Arren lied. “That was why Eluna killed him.”

“I see. Well, that is understandable. So, these smugglers had a griffin chick in their hideout, did they?”

“Yes, my lord,” said Arren, hiding his relief.

“I take it you returned it to the hatchery?”

“Yes, my lord. Roland says it’s in good health.”

“Excellent. It sounds as if you have foiled another criminal operation, Arren. Well done. I will see to it that you receive a commendation for it.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

“As for the dead smuggler”—Rannagon sighed and shuffled some papers on his desk—“I see no reason for a formal hearing. Your explanations mesh with what Captain Bran told me, and I am disinclined to make much fuss over the death of a criminal.”

Relief flooded through Arren’s chest. He drank some of the tea. It was sweet and strong, just how he liked it. “Thank you.”

“However, the family will have to be compensated,” Rannagon added. “You will, of course, be expected to pay.”

Arren’s heart sank. “How much?”

“Two hundred oblong is the standard amount,” said Rannagon.

Arren’s heart sank even further. “I—I can’t afford that much, my lord.”

“Oh. I see. Well . . .” Rannagon looked thoughtful. “As it happens, I do have a way that could help you earn some extra money. But you must keep it to yourself. If anyone asks, I will deny any knowledge of it.”

“I understand. What is it, my lord?”

Rannagon rummaged through the papers and came up with a rather grubby-looking scroll. “Ah, here it is. We have received word from one of the villages down in the South. A place called Rivermeet. It seems a wild griffin has been preying on livestock. And now, it seems, people as well.”

Arren grimaced. “What does this have to do with me, my lord?”

“There is a bounty on this griffin,” said

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