The Dark Griffin
griffins that circled over their city. Out in the countryside, he could expect even more excitement. In places where griffiners almost never went, they were regarded almost as demigods.
    Arren’s parents lived at the bottom of the hill, in a modest wooden house. They had seen him coming and hurried out to meet him. His mother threw her arms around him. “Arren!”
    Arren hugged her. “Hello, Mum, how are you?”
    She let go, bright eyed. “Oh, we’re fine. Hello, Eluna.”
    Eluna sat on her haunches and regarded them with an almost benevolent expression.
    Arren held out the roll of leather toward his father. “Here, Dad, I brought you this.”
    His father felt it and whistled. “This is top-quality stuff. Where did you get it from?”
    “Seized it from some smugglers. I thought you’d probably be able to use it.”
    Arren’s mother smiled and waved a hand at him. “Come on, come in, don’t stand around out here.”
    They entered the house, leaving Eluna outside to wait.
    Arren sat down at the table in the main room with his parents.
    Arren’s father, Cardock, stowed the leather away in a corner. “Thanks. There’s at least twelve pairs of boots in this if I’m any judge.”
    “No problem,” said Arren. “I’d have brought some other things but I couldn’t carry anything else. I’ll send them down with one of my assistants. So, how’re you doing?”
    “We’re fine,” said his mother, Annir. “Your father’s thinking of taking on another apprentice.”
    “And what about you?” said Cardock. “How are things up in the city, Arenadd?”
    “Arren will do fine, Dad,” said Arren.
    Cardock, who had the same angular features as his son, frowned. “I don’t see any reason for you to be ashamed, Arenadd. It’s a fine, strong name. A Northern name.”
    “A stupid name,” Arren said flatly. “Things are fine in the city. There was a bit of bother this morning, though. Seems I’ve—”
    “You are ashamed, though,” Cardock interrupted.
    “Cardock, please,” said Annir.
    “You are,” said Cardock, ignoring her. “You don’t want to remind people you’re a Northerner. Arenadd isn’t Southern enough for you, is it? Well?”
    “Dad, I’ve told you before. I changed my name because I didn’t like it. That’s all.”
    Cardock shook his head. “I am proud of you, you know. When you first became a griffiner I wasn’t happy. After what the griffiners did to us—but there are worthy griffiners, and you’re one of them. But you can be a griffiner and a Northerner as well.”
    “Dad, I’ve never even been in the North.”
    “But the North is in your blood,” said Cardock. “I’ve seen it, Arenadd. Ever since you moved into that city you’ve been trying to change. Wearing Southern clothes, using a Southern name. You won’t even speak our language any more. What are you so ashamed of?”
    “Dad, our ancestors came here in chains,” said Arren. “They were slaves . I really don’t see why that’s anything to be proud of.”
    Cardock rubbed the livid scar on the side of his neck. “A slave collar can’t take away a man’s dignity, or his heritage.”
    “I’d say it does a pretty good job of it,” said Arren. He sat back in his chair. “Listen, Dad, there’s no point in trying to hang on to the past, so just let it go. I’m sure the North is a beautiful place, but I’ve never been there and neither have you. This is our home, right here. Forget about the old days. They’re done.”
    Cardock sighed. “I suppose you’re right there, Arenadd. But I won’t forget who we are, and I advise you not to forget it, either. Because other people haven’t.”
    Arren tried not to think of Craddick the smuggler and his snarling voice. Go back to the North, blackrobe . “I’ve come here to give you some news,” he said.
    “Yes, what is it?” said Annir, sounding relieved.
    Arren recounted the story of the raid, finishing with “. . . so now I have to go down to the South for a

Similar Books

Horse Tale

Bonnie Bryant

Ark

K.B. Kofoed

The apostate's tale

Margaret Frazer