the shed where he’d found the shovel, and took down a hammer from a shelf. It had a pair of prongs on the back for removing nails—he knew their purpose from the brief time he’d spent helping to replace some planks near the edge back at Eagleholm.
It should do the trick. He took it back to the fence and began levering out the nails that held the palings in place. The nails were old and rusted, and several of them broke in the process, but he got them all out and lifted the heavy pieces of wood out of the way, leaving a large gap in the fence which the cage should fit through. It did, and the bearers staggered their way into the village and finally set it down in a handy barn.
Kryn leant against the cage and wiped the rainwater off his forehead. “Phew! Thank gods that’s over. Well done, Arren. And to the rest of you—excellent job. I’ll see to it that you’re all properly compensated for your time. I hope there aren’t any problems with keeping this in here until the wagons arrive to pick it up?”
“It shouldn’t be a problem, sir,” said the man who owned the barn.
“Good, good. Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to have a word with my friends here.”
The villagers left. Arren paused, not knowing if he should go with them, but Kryn gestured at him to join the griffiners.
The three griffins had stationed themselves around the cage and were watching its occupant. The black griffin stared back, unmoving.
“Now,” said Kryn, “someone has to keep an eye on it. Keep it fed and watered and make sure it doesn’t escape. They’ll have to stay here during the night as well. We can’t leave it unguarded for a moment.”
“Why?” said Tamran.
“Some of those people looked quite angry,” said Kryn. “It’s been killing their friends and family, don’t forget. I wouldn’t be surprised if some of them want a chance to take their revenge on it now it can’t fight back.”
“Oh,” said Tamran. “Good point.” He glanced at the others. “Who’s going to do it, then?”
“I will,” said Arren.
They looked at him. “Arren, you really shouldn’t,” said Tamran. “You’ve had a nasty accident, and—well, you should be resting. Why did you even come out into the field again?”
“Because I told him to,” Deanne interrupted. “His injury isn’t that bad, and it won’t do him any good to sit around on his own. He needs to keep occupied. It’s the best way to deal with stress. If you want to guard the cage, Arren, by all means, do it. I’ll ask someone to set up a bed for you in here.”
“Just a hammock,” said Arren.
“All right, if that’s what you want. And”—Deanne glanced at the black griffin—“be careful. Don’t get cocky just because it’s tied up. And if anyone else comes in here, keep a close watch on them. If anyone killed this griffin they would be guilty of having destroyed the Eyrie’s property, and it would be our duty to arrest them. No matter who they were,” she added meaningfully.
Arren unslung his quiver and sat down on a bale of hay. “I’ll be sure to keep a lookout, then,” he said shortly.
He spent the rest of that day sitting in the barn, watching the black griffin. A trough was brought and placed by the cage, close enough for the creature to reach, and Deanne brought a bucket of water to fill it with. “We’ll take the ropes off its beak now,” she told Arren. “Let it drink.”
Arren stood up. “But it might use magic.” Griffins used their mouths to cast magic, which was yet another good reason to keep this one’s beak tied shut.
Deanne put the bucket aside and drew her knife. “I doubt it. It’s probably more interested in a drink right now. And I’ve added something to the water. It’ll make it drowsy.”
Her griffin thrust a foreleg through the bars of the cage and pinned the black griffin’s head down, and Deanne reached in and cut the ropes around its beak. She withdrew swiftly, and once she was well out of reach her griffin released his captive. The black griffin’s head shot forward in the blink of an eye, and its beak narrowly missed the other griffin’s leg. The other griffin hit it in the face with his talons and returned to Deanne’s side, his tail twitching in a dignified manner.
Arren had restrung his bow with one of his spares,