Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 03 - The Silver Gryphon.txt

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by The Silver Gryphon [lit]

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.

 

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