The Black Gryphon

In a short time the camp was alive with rumors, a steady hum of conversation coming from everywhere. Amberdrake knew that Skan, if he had not been at the landing field, would surely be in the thick of things and have all the news by the time he arrived.

Gesten arrived even before Skan, pulling a laden cart. Amberdrake raised an eyebrow at that; he was not particularly concerned with the cost in tokens, but where in a war camp had the hertasi found so much in the way of treats?

Never mind. Better not to ask. There were always those who had hoards of rarities, and were willing to part with them for a price. And tokens for the kestra’chern were prized possessions. Eventually, in an irony that Amberdrake certainly appreciated, there was no doubt that a fair number of those tokens would find their way back to his coffers, anyway.

“Skan’s on the way,” Gesten said, as Amber-drake hurried to give him a hand. “I’ve got some real goodies in here. Hope he appreciates ‘em.”

“Save the best for Zhaneel, she deserves it,” Amberdrake told him with amusement.

“Huh. Got a couple things for you, too, Drake. And don’t tell me you don’t need a treat, you’ve been wearing yourself out between that Winterhart, Zhaneel, and the Black Boy.” Gesten pushed the cart to the back wall of the “public” room, and opened it up. “Look here-fresh nut-bread, good cheese, an’ not that tasteless army stuff, a nice mess of vegetables, pastry, eels for Zhaneel, an’ heart for Skan. Couldn’t ask for better.”

“I have to agree to that,” Amberdrake replied, a little dazed. “I don’t think I want to know where you got most of that.”

“Legally,” the hertasi said, turning up his snout saucily. “So none of your lip.”

“What about lip?” Skan said, pushing aside the tent flap. “Is Drake trying to give you excuses about why he can’t have a proper meal for a change?”

“Oh, you know Drake,” the hertasi replied before Amberdrake could even say a word in his own defense. “If no one else has something, he doesn’t think he should have it either. Martyr, martyr, martyr.”

“That is not true,” Amberdrake replied, going straight over to the cart and popping a bit of pastry into his mouth to prove Gesten wrong. “It is only that I do not think that I should take advantage of my position to indulge myself alone.”

“Oh?” Skan chuckled. “And what do you call this?”

“Indulging a client,” Amberdrake told him promptly. “You are one of my clients, aren’t you?”

“Well, yes-“

“And you have been undergoing a prolonged and painful convalescence, haven’t you?”

“Well, yes-“

“And you do deserve a bit of indulgence, don’t you?”

Skan coughed. “Well, I happen to-“

“There, you see?” Amberdrake turned to Gesten in triumph. “Moral indulgence!”

“My eye,” the hertasi replied, chuckling, and began taking things out of the cart. Skan eyed the heart appreciatively and moved a little nearer.

“Away from that, you!” Gesten slapped his beak. “That’s your dessert. And stop drooling.”

“I wasn’t drooling!” Skan replied with indignation. “I never drool!”

It was on the tip of Amberdrake’s tongue to say, “not even over Zhaneel?” but that would spoil the surprise. So he winked at Gesten, and gave the hertasi a hand in unloading the gloriously laden cart, while Skan stood by and made helpful comments.

“I hope you weren’t pla

“Oh, I can wait,” the Black Gryphon replied lazily. “Besides, by now everyone knows about the operation at Stelvi and I expect you want to hear how the Sixth did.”

“I’m sure you’d tell us even if we didn’t care,” Gesten sniped. “But since we do care, you might as well give us the benefit of your superior oration.” Skandranon pretended to be offended for just a moment, then tossed a pillow at him, which Gesten ducked expertly. “You ca

“Meaning the gryphons,” Amberdrake said with pleasure. “Including Zhaneel.”

It was not his imagination; Skan’s nostrils flared at the sound of her name, and his nares flushed a deep scarlet.

He was going to probe a little further, but a shadow fell upon the closed flap of the tent. “Ah, here is our fourth guest,” he said instead, and rose and went to the door of the tent himself. “Lovely lady,” he said, bowing and gesturing for Zhaneel to come in, “you brighten our company with your presence.”

Zhaneel was looking very lovely, if rather tired; Winterhart must have helped her with her grooming. But then, since Zhaneel had been ordered to report directly to Urtho before she came here, the Trondi’irn would have taken pains to make her look especially good, at least to human eyes.

From the stu

She stepped inside, and only then did she see who was waiting there. She froze in place, and Amberdrake put one hand on her shoulder to keep her from fleeing.

“You know Gesten, of course,” he said quickly, “and this, as you know, is Skandranon-I do not believe you have actually been introduced, but as I recall, he gave you some good advice on the disposition of a valor-token.”

Amberdrake had no difficulty in reading Skan’s eyes. I’ll get you for this one, Drake. Well, this was fair return for the false impression that Skan had given poor little Zhaneel-however well the whole affair had turned out, he owed Skan for that one.

“I took the liberty of adding him to your victory di

“No,” she replied faintly. “Of course not.”

But to her credit, she did not bolt, she did not become tongue-tied-in fact, she recovered her poise in a much shorter time than he would have thought. She blinked once or twice, then moved forward into the room, and took her place on the pile of pillows that Amberdrake pointed out to her.

Skan recovered some, but by no means all, of his aplomb. As the di

As darkness fell, and Gesten got up to light the lamps, she seemed to relax quite a bit. Of course, these were familiar surroundings to her by now, and perhaps that helped put her at ease. Before the di

“He’s my Healer, you know,” Skan added hastily. “Best gryphon-Healer there is.”

He fell silent then, as Amberdrake gri

“I should be pleased,” she said with dignity, as her eyes caught the light of the lamps. “Skandranon is wise enough to know that one does not argue with the trainer on the field, I think.”

Her nares were flushed, but in the dim light of the tent, only Amberdrake was near enough to notice. “Did you know that General Farle is being given command of the Sixth?” he asked, changing the subject. “Skan brought us the news.”