Beside him, Arenadd, too, stood tall. His hair was glossy from a morning of patient grooming, and his beard had been trimmed to a perfect point. He wore a brand new robe, embroidered with gold and silver spirals. A golden collar hid the scars on his neck. Perhaps he had been a filthy rebel once or a fugitive criminal, but now he looked like a lord. More than that.
Saeddryn spoke the last of the ceremonial words as she stepped up onto the platform, holding a silver circlet in her hands.
“May ye be judge and warlord, master and protector; may ye care for yer people above all else; may ye live long and shield us from misfortune.” Arenadd bowed his head, and she placed the circlet there, so that it rested on his forehead. “Rise, King Arenadd Taranisäii the First, ruler of Tara,” she intoned.
Arenadd stood.
“Hail King Arenadd!” Iorwerth shouted. “Hail!”
The crowd roared.
Arenadd looked up at them, at his subjects bellowing his name, their faces alight with joy mixed with awe. He saw men and women swearing their undying loyalty and devotion, giving him all the power the Night God had ever promised. Among them the griffins screeched Skandar’s name, and he screeched back. This was everything Skandar had always wanted, everything his partnership with Arenadd had earnt him.
But Arenadd couldn’t look any more. He bowed his head and stared at the floor, so that none of them would see the tears in his eyes.
“Skade,” he whispered. “Skade . . .”
Far away, beyond the Northgate Mountains, in a mouldering barn, Branton Redguard huddled into a corner to try to shelter from the rain. Kraeya stood nearby, keeping watch, her tail twitching.
“It’s all right,” Bran mumbled, again and again. “It’s all right.”
But the child in his arms would not stop crying.
Bran felt the tears aching in his own throat, but he didn’t let them out. “It’s all right. Laela.” He held her close. “Laela, yer safe. I swear. I’ll keep yeh safe. He can’t find yeh here, never . . .”
But the child cried on.
About the Author
“A lot of fantasy authors take their inspiration from Tolkien. I take mine from G. R. R. Martin and Finnish metal.”
Born in Canberra, Australia, in 1986, Katie J. Taylor attended Radford College, where she wrote her first novel, The Land of Bad Fantasy, which was published in 2006. She studied for a bachelor’s degree in communications at the University of Canberra and graduated in 2007 before going on to do a graduate certificate in editing in 2008. K. J. Taylor writes at midnight and likes to wear black.
For news and author contact, visit www.kjtaylor.com.
The Fallen Moon
THE DARK GRIFFIN
THE GRIFFIN’S FLIGHT
THE GRIFFIN’S WAR
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
Acknowledgements
Chapter 1 - Whispers
Chapter 2 - Condemned
Chapter 3 - The Night God’s Promise
Chapter 4 - Reunion
Chapter 5 - The Half-Breed
Chapter 6 - The Chosen One
Chapter 7 - Night Travels
Chapter 8 - Gwernyfed
Chapter 10 - Warwick
Chapter 11 - Rebirth
Chapter 12 - The War Begins
Chapter 13 - The Council
Chapter 14 - Treasures
Chapter 15 - An Old Friend
Chapter 16 - Memories
Chapter 17 - The War Begins
Chapter 18 - Evil Tactics
Chapter 19 - The Sea and the Sky
Chapter 20 - Outwitted
Chapter 21 - On the Island of the Sun
Chapter 22 - Raising the Banner
Chapter 23 - The Weapon
Chapter 24 - Fatherhood
Chapter 25 - Skade’s Quest
Chapter 26 - Traitors
Chapter 28 - Skenfríth
Chapter 29 - Consequences
Chapter 30 - Lost Memories
Chapter 31 - Endings and Beginnings
Chapter 32 - The Siege
Chapter 33 - Waiting
Chapter 34 - Homecoming
Chapter 35 - Preparation
Chapter 36 - Sun and Moon
Chapter 37 - Arenadd’s Triumph
Chapter 38 - King of the North
About the Author