8
Falling
“First things first,” Charles, the chief griffon master, said to Kari and Eli. “Never meet their stare head-on, that’s considered a challenge to ‘em. If you’re wantin’ to look ‘em in the eye, tilt yer head down a bit like so, and if they like ye, they’ll do the same. Lots o’ folk kinda think griffons’re stupid because they’re part bird. They ain’t. Prob’ly smarter than most o’ the people I ever met.”
Kari nodded. Charles was human, and spoke with the accent and vernacular common in the southlands. He was older, probably in his fifties or maybe more by Kari’s best guess, but he had been long at his craft and was entrusted by the earl to teach his guests to properly control and ride the beasts. He wore a riding outfit, but it was of heavier material than the typical garb, to better deal with winds and cooler temperatures when riding the griffons at altitude. He had assured Kari and Eli that they wouldn’t need to concern themselves with that on the first day of their training, though.
They followed him on his meandering walk toward the griffon stables. He took his time so he could give them the basics of approaching the creatures before they had an opportunity to do something wrong. The entire rear bailey was a paddock for the griffons, kept apart from the horse stables located in the forward section of the hold. The scent of it was peculiar to Kari, since she'd never been around griffons before, though it wasn't overpowering. The stables were clean, tended to by a sizeable staff of commoners.
“Second, don’t try to pet ‘em,” Charles continued. “They ain’t horses, and ye can’t treat ‘em as such. They don’t like to be touched on their beaks or on their foreheads, and if ye raise yer hand to ‘em, you’re as like as not going to lose that hand.”
“So, what’s the best way to approach them for the first time?” Kari asked.
“Eh, patience, girl!” Charles said, oblivious to Kari’s noble title—which was just as well, in her mind. “Kids these days, ye expect everything to be so easy.”
“With all due respect, Charles, I’m almost forty years old,” Kari said with a chuckle, and her declaration drew surprised looks from both of the men with her.
“Beggin’ yer pardon ma’am, but ye don’t look it,” the human said, though he gave no voice to whatever else he was thinking. “When ye first approach ‘em, if ye hold yer forearm out in front o’ ye like so and they bite it, that’s actually a good thing. Means they like ye, and they trust ye. They may pinch ye a lil’ bit, but they usually don’t break the skin; it’s kinda a sign o’ affection. Once ye can get ‘em to do that, ye’ll have no problems mountin’ up and ridin’ ‘em.”
“So, do you feed them to gain their trust?”
Charles shook his head, sending his wispy grey strands in all directions. “Like I said: They ain’t stupid. Sure enough they’ll eat what ye give ‘em, but ye can’t buy their friendship with food, not even horse meat,” he explained once they reached the stables.
He swung the doors wide, and Eli and Kari followed him in. They found the stables were similar to those used for horses, with much broader stalls. The smell was a little stronger here, though still not all that unpleasant. “Don’t go in too far; don’t want to be causin’ a ruckus.”
Kari looked to her left, where a griffon lay in a sphinx-like position on a nest made of hay, its head resting on its crossed eagle-like front legs. After being stared at for a few moments, the griffon opened wide blue eyes and lifted its head to return Kari’s stare. Before Charles could say anything, Kari bowed her head slightly as she had been instructed, while still maintaining eye contact.
The creature cocked its head as it regarded this new person—Kari imagined it probably didn’t see rir all that often, particularly terra-dracons—but soon it returned the gesture. After a few more seconds, it rose and approached the gate of the stall, and Kari made a conscious effort to stand her ground and not show any fear in case the creatures might react badly to it.
“Careful now, ma’am. Don’t make any sudden moves that she might think’re hostile. Don’t try to pet her, neither, like I said,” Charles whispered. “Just let her smell ye, get used to yer scent and get the first impression that ye’re a friend.”
“Wetayu, teyla migash naraat,” Kari said, and she lifted her arm the way Charles had instructed them. Immediately the griffon clicked once, leaned its head forward, and bit Kari’s armored forearm. She didn’t even feel the pinch through her bracer, but after a moment, the griffon released its grip, clicked three times and let out a whistle, then stooped down in its stall.
Charles and Eli beheld the incident wide-eyed. “What… what did ye just say to her?” Charles asked, astounded, and Eli echoed his sentiments with a muttered swear.
Kari wondered the same thing. She had no idea what language she had just spoken, let alone what she had just said. Even had Sakkrass spoken through her, the language that fell from her lips was not czarikk. Kari was at a loss, though she took comfort in knowing that the griffon had reacted well to whatever she’d said. “I’m… not even sure,” she responded and shook her head. “I have no idea why I spoke at all. What’s her name?”
Charles recovered quickly as Kari focused her attention on what seemed to be the griffon master’s pride and joy. “This fine gal is called Muireann,” he explained proudly, opening the stall, and he gestured for Kari to follow. “I’m not sure what ye said to her, but she wants ye to saddle up. Let me show ye how to get her ready for riding, and then ye can mount up and let her get accustomed to yer weight and posture.”
Kari followed him, and the feel of the hay underfoot brought back memories of her days with Tumureldi, when she’d learned the basics of horsemanship. The shakna-rir had fine horses, and Suler had long been a passionate rider, both for pleasure and to practice mounted combat. He had extended his training to Kari in those areas as well, and she could remember many a sunset horseback ride along the rocky beaches west of Aurun Ch’Gurra. She could only imagine how much Suler would’ve enjoyed the opportunity to train and ride griffons.
Muireann continued to click and whistle every so often, and Kari took down the tack and saddle with Charles’ help. He showed her how to properly bridle the griffon, which Kari was hesitant to do herself after Charles’ warning about touching griffons on the face or beak. With the trust Muireann had in Charles, though, the griffon ducked her head and accepted the bridle without complaint. There was no bit, and the bridle fit securely over the griffon’s head in such a way that her eyes and beak would be safe from sudden tugs on the reins. She was also still able to click and whistle with the bridle on, and she did both in approval when Kari finished.
Once Muireann was bridled, Kari moved back and Charles showed her how to properly secure the saddle. The griffon tickled Kari with the hairy tuft at the end of her leonine tail. Kari glanced at Eli, but he stayed in the hallway, a mixture of amazement and perplexity on his face. No doubt he wasn’t sure what to make of Kari in light of what he’d seen and heard.