The three traumatised children were still all on Riordan's back as he glided down the deep valley on the far side of Mount Pire. Their whimpers had died away in their exhaustion as the elder one had done her best to comfort and reassure the younger twins. Sparse pine woods on the rocky slopes gave way to larch and spruce, aspen and willow before gradually the dense forests of oak, beech, birch and linden spread below them. Interspersed, Riordan could see glades of well tended apple, pear, quince, medlar, currant, hawthorn, mulberry, grape, and fields of millet and corn. There were already a few centaurs out in the fields, reaping millet or pulling ploughs or hoeing rows of corn.
If Riordan had wondered where to take the children first, he stopped wondering rapidly. A little to the right on the northern side of the valley, he could clearly see several steep roofed gables ahead, their upswept peaks rising nearly to the tops of the surrounding trees. Around and about rose the lacey fronds of tall tree ferns, their majestic forms dwarfed by huge beech trees with their shapely grey boughs and trusses of shining foliage. As he veered in this direction however, he detected a shimmering and a disorientation that was more than visual. His dream visions from early that morning flooded chaotically through his mind again and the children gasped and whimpered. Before he knew what was happening, he found himself caught in a thermal up-draught which swept him up and aside. The extra weight and his smarting flanks made this difficult to maneuver but with some effort, he glided away. Looking sidewise, Riordan could see that this entire corner of the valley was shrouded by a slightly shimmering, dome, that evidently protected the area.
He decided to land in a field near a grove of sprawling elderberries bushes, close by a brook, probably about half a mile from the centre of the dome.
So with his gold and copper wings flashing in the sun, Riordan glided down and with a final flurry of upswept wings, he settled onto the ground, panting.
At this moment, the two youngest children who had fallen asleep with exhaustion woke up and began to struggle to get off his back. The elder child scrambled off Riordan and began talking to the younger ones offering what comfort she could, as she tried to untie some of the knots.
All three were very nervous but were glad to be back on solid ground again.
By this time Riordan had stretched out fully, trembling as he felt both exhaustion and the simple relief that he had got the children to safety.
He did wonder anxiously when someone would show themselves.
But he needn't have worried. Moments later the ground was throbbing with thundering hooves as a trio of centaurs veered around the grove of trees. The three children looked up in alarm and clung on to Riordan. One was a handsome black haired centaur with white socks, ruddy skin and a clipped beard. The other two were women, as alike as two peas. Their black hair was streaming in the wind and their faces showed great concern and care as they slowed to a halt.
"What goes forward oh winged one? We could see your headlong flight some minutes ago." said one of the female centaurs. "Long has it been since one of your kind has come to Fernwood".
Riordan was still breathless and was about to answer but her sister spoke first.
"Methinks there is an urgent matter afoot, judging by your haste and bearing so strange a burden?" the other said, as she looked down kindly on the three children and then knelt horse fashion so she could see into the children's faces and not tower over them so much. "What brings you here children?"
The eldest child looked up at the centaur woman with troubled eyes and said "Our mother sent us here to be safe", and then burst into a flood of silent tears, her lips trembling.
Riordan found some breath and panted, "Anvard has been invaded… I brought these children here at their mother's bidding… Her name is Lady Delina... the wife of the Steward of Anvard. These are their children. Can you please care for them until… until she comes to claim them when she can… I fear it may have been her last wish."
All three looked appalled and exchanged worried looks. "Hush, enough, Master Gryphon" said one of the centaur women gently. The two women beckoned to the three children, "We will look after you" said the other. "Yes, and by and by, we will make sure your mother and father are returned to you. You are safe here."
The children were all given a little water from the brook to drink before one of the centaur women said: "Shall you come with us for some soup, a warm bath and a nice sleep?" The elder one nodded numbly. In a few moments the three girls were gathered up into the women's arms, they bid Riordan farewell and they walked gently away out of sight.
By this time, the centaur man had also knelt and gently examined Riordan's gashed flank.
"What are your plans from here Master Gryphon?" he asked.
"I must get to Cair Paravel in Narnia as fast as I can to alert King Dale and the Narnian forces of defence. Archenland will need help with this I deem."
"Then you shall need swift healing indeed" the centaur intoned. He stood up and taking a horn slung over his back blew a series of throaty vocal blasts upon it. There were words in the call but Riordan couldn't quite catch them. He stayed with Riordan and brought him water from the brook which Riordan drank thirstily, bird fashion, one mouthful at a time tipping his head back. At the same time, the centaur began feeling for the gryphon's wing, breast and flank muscles and began a gentle but firm massage, helping to ease the knots and tension away. After about twenty minutes the gryphon was beginning to feel like he might be able to move again but he was still very tired. His heart rate had just started to slow a little.
Then another centaur arrived, a rich chestnut with a long flowing beard, this one bearing a pot of broth and a tub of salve. The two centaurs conferred briefly and the first knelt down again and began to apply the salve to Riordan's flank. Within a short while numbness had spread along the wound area and he felt the tension ease from his body further.
Whilst this took place, they conferred about the best route to take and the quickest way to the main Archen Valley.
"Not too much and not anywhere else" the chestnut centaur warned. "There will be no point in making your wing muscles numb. If you need to fly to Narnia you need to be well coordinated. But at least most of the journey will be downwards. That will be a blessing."
The two centaurs then counselled Riordan to drink some meat broth before leaving; light and easily digested, to sustain him on the rest of his journey. They warned him to take it slowly, but he bent his head and taking large beaks-ful, he tilted his head and let the broth run down his throat. He pecked at the chunks of soft meat and gobbled them. Before long the pot was empty and Riordan's limbs had stopped quivering. He wanted to curl up and go to sleep again but knew this was not possible. Duty beckoned.
With a weary sigh, he spoke to the centaur men about how he could find some where for safe take-off. They led him slowly and carefully up one side of the valley, and along a gentle path that gradually steepened until they doubled back and he was able to jump from a ledge about twenty wingspans from the valley floor.
Riordan flapped hard and headed in a North East direction to clear the next ridge and he was gone.