The news hit Joachim hard. Handy looked down at the griffon. His face was a mix of emotions, and he recognised the expression too well. He placed an armoured gauntlet on Joachim’s shoulder for solidarity. The king had taken ill not long after Joachim had left. He was an old griffon nearing seventy winters, a venerable age, and his dying wish was to see his prodigal son one last time before he died. Handy now understood why a stuck up fop like Ivorybeak had been willing to slum it in Pawstown while searching for Joachim.