The Flight of the Griffin (32 page)

‘What’s going on?’ asked Matheus, his suspicions aroused.

A shadow crossed the sun and the three of them, along with everyone else, gazed up to see a large creature descending. Its huge wings flapping as it slowed its descent; two figures perched upon its back guiding and coaxing it down to land amid a cloud of dust and sand.

‘It’s that Source damned bird thing!’ shouted Bartholomew, but Matheus had already started running, anticipating where it was landing.

‘Stop them, a thousand sovereigns to the man that can bring the beast down,’ screamed Bartholomew. He tried to run after Matheus Hawk, only to fall to the ground in his haste.

The crowd drew around
The
Griffin
as Mahra and Quint helped pull their friends up onto its back. The great creature was breathing and snorting, its wings flexing in agitation as the people started to crowd it, calling and pointing at it in awe. The great eagle head eyed the crowd and snapped her beak, daring them to come too close. Quint had to make an effort to keep a firm control upon her.

‘See you some other time, Azif, it’s been fun to travel with you,’ shouted Pardigan over the rising noise. Azif was beside himself with excitement.

‘This is a wondrous beast, and to think that I disbelieved you boys.’

They heard shouting and guessed that Bartholomew and his friends were on their way.

‘So long, Azif, thanks for your help,’ shouted Pardigan as
The Griffin
flapped its wings forcing the crowd back. They began to lift from the desert and the crowd covered their eyes and mouths from the dust and sand that blew up around them. Matheus Hawk came bursting through.

‘Stop, I command you to stop.’ He held out his hands, his lips moving silently as he wove his spell and
The
Griffin
stopped its slow ascent, held by some invisible force. Letting out a loud cry, it scrabbled at the air with razor-sharp claws and snapped angrily at whatever invisible force held it. All but Matheus Hawk stepped back from the struggling creature.

‘Come down!’ commanded Matheus. His eyes flashed red as he forced his hands lower. Behind him Bartholomew arrived, watching the problems the boys were having with a thin smile on his dusty face.

‘I’ll be having you yet, me young thieves, oh yes I will!’ He was breathing through his dirty handkerchief but his voice reached out to the riders as they stared down at the crowd around them.

‘Do something!’ yelled Pardigan and Quint drew his bow.

‘Where’s Loras when we need him?’ Tears came to Quint’s eyes as he sighted down the arrow, ever reluctant to take a life. Seeing his dilemma, Mahra launched herself from
The
Griffin
and the large Black Panther dropped upon Matheus with a roar. The crowd turned screaming in panic while
The
Griffin
lurched away, no longer under the spell. Matheus was down, trying unsuccessfully to stand as Mahra changed into an owl and flew after her retreating friends. Azif, standing a distance away, was laughing and clapping his hands in delight while Matheus glared up at him.

‘You make an enemy of the wrong people,’ he spat. ‘You allowed those criminals to escape and did nothing to stop them, you will be held responsible for their disappearance.’

‘Oh yes
you’re
responsible, you will pay and I’ll…’ Bartholomew didn’t get a chance to continue as a sharp sword was pressed to his throat. Azif stood watching as his guards surrounded the bedraggled pair.

‘You obviously do not like this caravan. We are in sight of the city, thus the law of the desert is satisfied; we shall allow you to leave here.’

Bartholomew’s jaw dropped. ‘Let us leave? You’re going to strand us here and make us walk to the city from here?’ He stared across the shimmering desert at the distant city and licked his lips nervously.

‘Yes, you shall walk. You have offended me and my people and you shall walk like a camel into the city and no man shall respect you.’ Azif waved to his men who pushed Bartholomew away.

‘And you can have Mustep to keep you company. I believe he is your friend, is he not?’

Mustep fell to his knees with a cry of anguish and frustration, hands set in a prayer of appeal, but the caravan master simply turned his back on him and walked away. Mustep fell forward into the sand with a sob, beating his fists at the injustice of life.

The caravan continued its slow march to the city, while Bartholomew, Matheus and Mustep sought to keep a little dignity and silently walked after them in the ankle-deep sand.

‘This is so unfair,’ muttered Bartholomew, ‘so unfair. All we seek is justice. I simply don’t understand why the Source treats us so.’

****

After dropping Pardigan, Tarent and Mahra in a high, sheltered area of the mountains, Quint guided
The Griffin
back towards the palace to pick up Loras and the princess. Mahra had told the princess to prepare to leave and she’d been excited at the thought of a magician coming to rescue her.  Mahra only hoped that Loras would live up to the princess’s expectations.

Finding Loras proved to be no problem; he was perched high up on one of the palace roofs waving up at the approaching
Griffin
with the princess at his side. Below them a group of the sultan’s guards were attempting to climb up but Loras was keeping them back with a whole array of different spells; the princess clutching his arm giggling and clapping in delight at each one. As
The
Griffin
approached, Loras stood and started whirling his arms around his head and smoke began to fill the area below them confusing the guards even more. The sultan’s magician had been trying unsuccessfully to counter every spell that Loras had used but his magic was nothing compared to that of Loras - the old magician could be heard screaming in frustration and rage. If he did something that Loras hadn’t known before, then Loras learned how it was done almost instantly, and it became little or no threat to them or was sent straight back to confound the old magician further.

The
Griffin
landed, sending roof tiles crashing to the courtyard below as it scrabbled for purchase, and they came running over. Quint helped them both up and showed the princess where best to hold on.

‘My daughter, I forbid your leaving! Listen to me, I am your father and your sultan.’ The voice came floating up out of the smoke. Quint glanced at the princess but she tossed her head, wrapped her arms tighter around Loras then poked her tongue out in the sultan’s direction.

‘He may be my father and also my sultan, but he doesn’t even know my name. Let us leave here.’ She shook her head dismissively and motioned them on with a regal wave.
The
Griffin
lurched up with huge beats of its wings and several arrows flew past them as the smoke was blown away. They could hear the sultan berating his guards.

‘Don’t shoot, you fools, that is my daughter! If you hit her I will make you die a thousand agonising deaths.’

Glancing back, they watched as all but the sultan started down from the roof, leaving him to stand alone to watch without moving until they were well out of sight.

The entrance to the mines was high in the mountain range at the base of a huge cliff, and had only a narrow path running up to it. If they hadn’t had the princess to guide them, it could well have taken weeks to find amongst the rocks.
The Griffin
set them down and then flew off so as not to attract unwanted attention to the entrance should anyone be watching. Gathering round, Mahra introduced the sultan’s daughter as Princess Fajera and she quickly took the lead.

‘There’s only one torch here. You’ll all have to follow me closely as the tunnel is treacherous. It will take us some time to reach the guardian’s cave.’ The princess struck a flint and lit the torch, holding it out in front of her.

‘I can give us light as well,’ said Loras happily as two glowing blue globes appeared in his hands and floated into the entrance, instantly lighting the path. The princess smiled in approval then led them inside.

The tunnel was dark and narrow and appeared to be as treacherous as the princess had promised. It angled down, branching out in several places as other tunnels disappeared off into the darkness. Loras, who was at the back, made sure to mark the wall so they’d be able to find their way back if, for some reason, they didn’t have the princess to guide them. From several of the branch tunnels they could hear strange sounds and moaning, water dripping or rushing, and at one part the crash and thump as, within another tunnel, something gave way.

‘What is it that lives down here making all those sounds?’ asked Quint, fingering the sword at his belt nervously.

‘Nothing lives down here except the guardian.’ The Princess giggled. ‘Maybe a few mice or rats,’ she poked Quint with her finger. ‘You’re not afraid of mice are you?

Quint ignored her. ‘So what’s making all the noises?’

‘It’s the wind or water moving, or maybe the earth shifting,’ answered Tarent. ‘The earth is constantly moving and shifting beneath us, we just don’t notice when we’re happily walking around on the surface - down here it’s different.’

They followed the princess down and down, twisting and turning until they all felt completely lost.

‘How did you find these caves, princess?’ asked Mahra when they stopped for a rest. ‘I mean this is hardly the type of exploration trip that most princesses would make, is it?’

‘I’m not like most other princesses. I should know, I have thirty-eight sisters, who are also princesses, all of whom are happy to sit and sew or sing and dance prettily, acting like perfect dummies as they wait for a husband to be found for them. I, on the other hand, want more than all that sitting around and I don’t want a husband.’ She gazed at Loras. ‘Well, not any old husband any way.’ She smiled. ‘I want to choose my husband, not be found some smelly old merchant’s son to spend the rest of my life with. So I escape as often as I can and come to these hills. On one of those trips the skull called to me and guided me down to its cave.’

At last, after what seemed like most of the day, they saw that the blue globes had halted their travel at the entrance to a large cave. The princess placed her torch into a holder to one side of the opening and bade them follow her in.

‘Hello?’ she called. ‘Guardian? Are you here?’

‘Child? Is that you?’ a weak voice drifted from the dim confines at the back of the cave. Do you bring me visitors?’

‘No, she brings
me
visitors and well you know it, you old fool,’ said another voice.

‘Silence!’
hissed the guardian. ‘Come forward, child, bring these visitors to me. I’ve waited so very long to meet them.’

‘They will be more of a match than you think, old man,’ came the second voice again.

‘I said
silence!
’ screamed the guardian. ‘You have promised me for countless years of waiting that you would not interfere at this final time of reckoning.’

‘I did, so I shall say no more and remain silent, my old friend. You have waited long and dutifully for this day and I shall now cease to interfere.’

The
Griffin’s
crew followed the princess into the darkness, nervously fingering their weapons, unsure of the strange conversation they’d been hearing. Out of the gloom came a wizened old man with a long white beard. He supported himself upon a stick that was nearly as bent as he was and it was with obvious effort that he lifted his eyes to see them. The princess ran over to him.

‘Let me help you, guardian, please…’ but he shooed her away.

‘Stay back, girl. Your task in these things has been completed and I thank you, but stay back while we talk.’ He waved his old hand towards the side of the cave and the princess, crestfallen, backed away.

‘Welcome, visitors. Allow me to introduce myself to you. I am the guardian of the skull.’ He cast his watery old eyes over the group. ‘So young,’ he murmured. ‘So very young.’

‘I’m fed up with people telling me how young I am,’ growled Pardigan in a low voice.

‘Shhh,’
muttered Quint.

The guardian shuffled a little closer. ‘I am the guardian of the skull and I was set here…’ He thought for a moment, obviously trying to work out how long he’d been sitting in the old cave, guarding the skull. ‘I have been here too long. That’s how long I have been here, far too long. I was placed here to guard this skull against the one thing that my masters feared most. The one thing that might turn time against them…
you!’

What had been a little old man only a moment before exploded into action in a flash of red light. The staff was flung up turning into a flail, a short staff with five long strands running from it, each strand tipped with the head of a poisonous snake hissing and spitting venom. The guardian had grown to almost twice his previous size and with eyes glowing red and yelling a terrible cry, he pulled back his arm and sent the spitting heads at the group of heroes as they stood mesmerised in shock before him.

The flail snapped down and the snakes each struck for a different member of the crew. Finally jolted into action, they tried to defend themselves as best they could. At the front of the group, Quint drew his sword and cut the head from the first snake but his triumph was short-lived as the head fell to the floor, hot acidic blood sprayed over him and he fell down in agony, his hands covering his face. Tarent had drawn his twin swords but seeing what had happened to Quint, he replaced them into each other with a quick snap and struck out with the staff instead, instantly causing one of the snakes to fall limp. Mahra had turned into the Black Panther and had succeeded in shredding another of the heads with a swipe of her claw, but had suffered much the same fate as Quint. She was now whimpering at the back of the cave nursing a badly burnt paw that hissed and steamed as the venom burnt into her.