outposts. And there’s nothing in the briefing Blade read me that says anything
about the weather there. “Would you say the weather is difficult enough to
become a hindrance to our duties, sir?” he responded politely.
“Hindrance? I suppose if you’re the kind that thinks he’s going to melt if he
has to fly in the rain.” Aubri’s mild manner turned just a trifle sharp, as if giving
Tad subtle warning that he’d better not be thinking any such thing. His pupils
dilated and constricted rapidly, another sign of warning. “No one promised
sunny beaches and half-day duty when you volunteered for the Silvers.”
“It is dangerous to fly during thunderstorms, sir,” Blade put in politely,
verbally maneuvering Tad from under Aubri’s talons. “And it can be
dangerous to take off during heavy fog. We won’t be doing White Gryphon
any favors if we get ourselves bunged up doing something stupid and they
have to send in replacements and a rescue party. If the weather can become
difficult enough to be dangerous, we ought to know about it in advance and
know what warning signs to watch for. We can always ground ourselves and
wait out a dangerous storm.”
“Well, now, that’s true enough.” Aubri was back to being the bumbling,
genial old “uncle.” “But I don’t think I said anything to give either of you the
impression that the weather was going to make it impossible to fly your
regular patrols. You’ll just have to be careful, the way you were taught, and be
diligent in watching for developing problems, that’s all. The thunderstorms
aren’t violent, just briefly torrential, and the fog is always gone an hour after
dawn.”
Both of which would have made his bones ache, if he’s having the same
problems as my father. Aubri might be the oldest surviving gryphon from
Urtho’s forces; he was certainly older than Skandranon. He looked it, too; his
feathers were not as sleek or as perfectly preened as Tad’s were; in fact, they
were a bit ragged, a trifle faded from what must have been his original colors
of dark, warm brown and tan. Now he was rusty-brown and cream, and even
feathers just grown in looked a bit shabby. Like Skandranon, he was of the
broadwing variety, hawklike rather than falconiform, but he was huskier than
Skandranon. His raptoral prototype was probably the umber-tailed hawkeagle,
rather than the goshawk. There were signs of age in the delicate skin around
his beak and eyes, a webwork of faint wrinkles, though those wrinkles were
not as pronounced as the ones that humans got with increasing age. There
was no sign of age in the mind, although you could not have told that from the
way he was acting now.
“Acting,” indeed. It’s all an act, first to last, the old fraud. He never forgets
anything; I’ll bet he remembers the order in which every trainee finished the
last run on the obstacle course two weeks ago.
Aubri and Judeth were adept at playing the ally-antagonist game, with
Aubri playing the absentminded and easily-fooled ally and Judeth the sharp-
edged antagonist. Tad had caught onto the game in his first day of training,
but then he had seen both Aubri and Judeth all the time when he was growing
up. In particular, he had watched “absentminded” and “bumbling” Aubri best
Skandranon time and time again over a game of stones, so it wasn’t likely that
he would ever be fooled into thinking that Aubri wasn’t as sharp as his human
partner.
Not that Father would ever admit to losing a game to Aubri except on
purpose.
“Where is Commander Judeth, by the way?” he asked, for the white-haired
human co-Commander of the Silver Gryphons had not been in evidence when
the two of them arrived a few moments ago. Aubri jerked his beak toward the
door, still standing open, as it had been when they arrived. On warm, pleasant
days like this, most of the inhabitants of White Gryphon preferred to keep all
doors and windows open to the sea breezes, and Aubri was no exception.
“Meeting with the Haighlei; they’re picking out the next set of Silvers to be
in Shalaman’s personal guard when Sella and Vorn come back.” He preened
a talon thoughtfully, chewing on the very end of it, his beak making little
clicking sounds as he did so. “They’ll probably take Kally and Reesk,” he
added. “They can’t resist matched sets.”
“You think so?” Blade asked skeptically; like Tad, she was aware that there
were several pairs available for the duty whose skills were greater than the
partners named.
Aubri snorted his contempt for anyone who would choose the looks of a set
of guards over their ability. Not that Kally and Reesk were bad; no one was
offered for Shalaman’s guards who was bad. For that matter, anyone who
wasn’t up to Aubri’s standards was generally asked to find some other
vocation long before they got out of training—and exceptions had better prove
themselves within six months or they would have to return that coveted silver
badge. But by the yardstick of these that Judeth and her partner picked to
represent White Gryphon in the service of the Haighlei Emperor, these two
were just average.
Nevertheless, they were showy, their plumage of ruddy gold and bronze
would complement the gold and lionskins of Shalaman’s Grand Court, and
they could stand at perfect attention for hours without moving a feather.
Tadrith pointed out all of those attributes.
“The Emperor’s Chief Advisor has other things to consider, sir,” he finished
politely. “It is very important, protocol-wise, for the Emperor’s guards to be as
still as carvings all during Court. That stillness implies his power and control.”
“It’s not as if they’re ever going to have to do anything, sir,” Blade said
injudiciously. “Even assuming an assassin or madman got as far as the
Emperor’s Guard, he’d take one look at a pair of gryphons in full battle rage
and pass out.”
Tad winced. That was not a bright thing to say— not to a veteran of the
Great Wars and the Migration. There was a slight grating as Aubri’s talons
reflexively scratched the terrazzo.
“Maybe,” Aubri replied with a narrow-eyed glare in her direction that
thoroughly cowed her. “Maybe. Never assume anything, young Silver.
Assumptions get you killed. Either you know, or you make your plans for the
worst-case contingency. Always. Never count on the best happening. I
thought we taught you better than that.”
The ice behind his words would have done his partner Judeth proud, and
his tone was so sharp that even an idiot would have known he had made a
mistake.
Blade flushed at the rebuke, and snapped stiffly to attention. Aubri waited a
moment, to make certain that his words had taken effect, then waved a talon
at her, and she relaxed, but warily.
That’s one mistake she won’t make again.
“Now, what was I saying? Outpost Five. . . .” He yawned, all trace of the
Commander gone from his demeanor again. He could have been any lazy old
gryphon, without a single interest beyond a place in the sun to rest, a bit of
good gossip, and
the quality (and timely delivery) of his next meal. “Standard
outpost, all the comforts of home if you happen to be a hermit, good hunting,
always pretty damp, the nights are a bit chilly. Oh, and the area is largely
unexplored.” He gryph-grinned at Tad’s ill-suppressed look of eagerness.
“Figured that out, did you? If I were to guess, and it’s only a guess, I’d say
your best bet might be gold. Quartz pebbles in the river and streambeds that
match the kind I’ve seen in the past where gold can be panned and separated
out. We didn’t bother looking when Judeth and I were there; we’re too old to
go wading around in cold water sloshing pans about. Since you’ve got a two-
legger with you, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little panning, just to see if there’s
anything there.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” Tad agreed, as Blade grimaced, but nodded. That would
be the easiest way to find gold, if Aubri was right and the area was sitting atop
a vein or even a lode. Chances were, if they did find gold, panning would be
the only way any of it would be taken out of the place for a long time. The
Haighlei would first have to perform a divination to see if the gods approved of
mining there, then they would have to wait for approval from Shalaman
himself, then the priesthood and the Emperor would make a joint declaration
that mining would be permitted. Even then, there would be no rush to sink
mines; Shalaman himself would choose one person from among the handful
born into the trade of mining expert to determine (with the help of the
priesthood) where and when the first shaft should be sunk. That person, with
the aid of his hereditary miners, would dig the first shaft while a member of the
priesthood watched to be certain it was all done as the gods deemed fit and
appropriate. If he struck the vein, the whole process might be gone through
again, to see if the gods would allow a second mine in the forest. If not, it
would be taken as a sign that the gods did not approve despite the earlier
indications, and the whole concern would be packed up and moved home.
Protocol.
And meanwhile, those citizens of White Gryphon willing to endure primitive
conditions for the sake of the possibility of a fortune, would be industriously
panning gold out of the streams, with Shalaman’s blessing and his tax
collectors monitoring. Panning involved nothing that would change the forest,
the stream, or the earth beneath both, and so did not require the approval of
the gods.
“What else?” he asked, and got the figure it out for yourself, brat look from
Aubri. “I meant, what supplies would you suggest we take,” he amended
hastily. Blade took the hint and passed their list over to Aubri, who spread it
out on the floor in front of him. “Other than the usual kit, I mean, the one we
learned in training. This is what we’d thought of adding so far.”
He was rather proud of the fact that he’d already put prospecting pans
down; after all, if they didn’t find any gold, they could always bake pies in
them.
Aubri perused the list slowly, rumbling a little to himself. Finally, he looked
up.
“This is all very well thought out,” he said, “but it doesn’t go far enough.
That’s not your fault,” he added hastily, as both Tad and Blade’s faces fell.
“We train you fledges about regular outpost duty, but Five is almost twice as
far away as any of the others. That was why Judeth and I went out there. If we
couldn’t handle it, we certainly didn’t want to send any of you.”
Aubri and Judeth shared the leadership of the Silvers as co-Commanders
under Skandranon. Tad’s father had turned over the actual working position to
Aubri not long after the affair of the Eclipse Ceremony, more than twelve
years ago. Skandranon had decided by then that he didn’t want to be a
leader, not unless it was a leader in name only. He much preferred to be the
Black Gryphon (or White Gryphon, depending on whether he was at Khimbata
and Shalaman’s court or at home) with his talons into everything. The day-to-
day trivia of leadership bored him; doing things made him happy.
Aubri, on the other hand, found himself, much to his surprise, to be quite
good at the day-to-day trivia. Furthermore, it amused him. He said once to
Skandranon that after all that he had been through during the Wars, dealing
with requisitions and stupid recruits was a positive pleasure. The real truth
was that he had long ago mastered the art of delegation and knew just who to
saddle with the part of the job that he didn’t care for. And now, with the able
tutelage of his partner and co-Commander Judeth, he very much enjoyed
being a leader. For the last three years or so, both of them had been claiming
that they were going to retire “soon,” but not one creature in the Silvers
believed them. Neither of them was ever likely to enjoy retirement half so
much as active duty.
It was Tad’s opinion that what would probably happen was that a third co-
Commander would be appointed, one in charge of the more physical aspect
of the daily activities of the Silvers, and the minor decisions that didn’t require
an expert of the quality of either Aubri or Judeth. Judeth would remain in place
as the overall Commander in charge of major decisions, and Aubri in charge
of training, with which Judeth would assist him.
Now that, I can see happening. Judeth doesn’t much like climbing all over
the city all day, but they’re both so experienced that it would be stupid to turn
over complete control of the Silvers to someone younger—at least, not until
they are comfortable with his competence. And Aubri loves bamboozling the
trainees. Yes, that would make altogether too much sense, which is probably
why that’s what they’ll do. They’re the two creatures in the whole world that I
can trust to act sensibly.
Tad couldn’t imagine the Silvers without Aubri and Judeth in charge. It
would have to happen someday, but he couldn’t imagine what that day would
be like when it came.
“Now look, you two,” Aubri was saying. “You are going to be a long, long
way from the city; it might be hard to get things to you if something wears out
or breaks. Just because something minor like your water pump goes out, that
doesn’t mean we’re going to rip open a Gate to send one to you. Gates are
expensive, and you have perfectly sound limbs for carrying water in buckets.”
Tad was taken aback, and so was Blade. That simply hadn’t occurred to
him; living among mages had made him think of Gates being put up quite
casually. Gryphons flew, mages made Gates, it was that simple.
But now he realized that although a Gate went up just about every two or
three days, they didn’t stay up for very long, and what was more, they didn’t
even go up to the same place more often than once every month or two.
There were just a lot of outposts and other far-flung ventures to supply, and
that was what had made it seem as if Gating was commonplace and simple.
Aubri’s eyes twinkled. “Your Gates will be opened at the scheduled times,
not one moment earlier unless it’s a real emergen
cy of a life-threatening
nature. They will remain open for only the scheduled times, so if there’s more
stuff you’ve asked for than can be chucked through in a hurry, that’s too bad.
You may have to wait through several resupply opportunities for your water
pump. So what does that mean, Silvers?”
“Manuals,” Blade said with resignation, adding them to the list. “We’ll need
repair manuals. All the repair tools we’d need will be there already, right?”
“And the manuals, too, don’t worry; that outpost’s been open a long time,
and remember that Judeth and I were there first. We had the rank to order
whatever we thought should be in place out there. Try again.”
Blade chewed a nail and frowned as she thought. Her brows furrowed, and
her eyes darkened until they were nearly blue-black. “Um. You said it’s really
damp. Humid?”
He nodded. “There’s fog there, isn’t there? Every morning. And rain every
evening.”
She brightened. “Bladders. Seals. Anything made of leather or wood—or
metal that might rust. Repair parts that can get ruined by damp! That would be
for—the water pump, the stove, the plumbing—” She began to scribble.
“Good!” Aubri turned to Tad, who fortunately had an answer waiting,
because he already knew Aubri’s prejudices. He’d heard the litany often
enough, when he was still living at home.
“The kind of equipment that might go missing or get spoiled by damp that
doesn’t rely on magic to work,” he said promptly. “Things like firestrikers,
tinder boxes, trace sextant and compass for surveying . . . ah. . . .” He
pummeled his brain. Aubri nodded.
“Don’t strain yourself; since you’ve just shown me that you know the
principle, I’ll give you a list. It’s basically a few common replacement parts and
some old army gear; won’t add that much to your load, but there isn’t much
you can’t do with it if you put your mind to the problem.”
He didn’t even move; he just stretched out a claw and stabbed a piece of
paper already waiting on the top of the goldenwood desk that stood just within
snatching distance. He must have been ready for them, once again proving
that he wasn’t nearly as absentminded as he seemed.
Blade took it from him, and Tad noticed that she seemed a bit bemused.
Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 03 - The Silver Gryphon.txt Page 5