“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 planning on eating right away,” Amberdrake said, as Skan settled down on his pile of pillows. “This is a little early for me, and I’d rather appreciate good food with a good appetite.”
“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 cannot spoil my mood, I am feeling far too pleased. The Sixth has retaken the Pass. The messages are in from the mages, and the town is back in our hands.” He continued at length, with as much detail as Amberdrake could have wished for, then concluded, “But I have saved the best for last.” His eyes gleamed with malicious enjoyment. “General Shaiknam and Commander Garber have been placed on ‘detached duty for medical reasons,’ and General Farle has been given the Sixth Wing as a reward for successfully commanding them in this operation-and for, I quote, ‘appropriate and strategic use of the air forces’ end quote.”
“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 stunned expression on Skan’s face, she looked especially good to gryphon eyes as well.
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 dinner, Zhaneel,” he added. “I didn’t think you would mind.”
“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 dinner progressed, he was much quieter than usual, leaving most of the conversation to Amberdrake and Gesten. Zhaneel managed to seem friendly toward Skan, and full of admiration, but not particularly overwhelmed by him, an attitude that clearly took him rather aback.
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 dinner was over, Skan did manage to ask if she would accept him into one of her training classes, subject, of course, to Amberdrake’s approval-
“He’s my Healer, you know,” Skan added hastily. “Best gryphon-Healer there is.”
He fell silent then, as Amberdrake grinned. “Why, thank you, Skan,” the kestra’chern replied. “I personally think you’re more than overdue for some retraining, if Zhaneel is willing to accept someone who’s as likely to give her arguments as not.”
“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.”
“No!” she exclaimed, with delight and pleasure. “But that is excellent! Most excellent indeed! He is a good commander; most went according to plan, there were no missed commands, and when things happened outside of the plan, General Farle had an answer for them.”
“That leaves Shaiknam and Garber at loose ends, though,” Gesten put in, his voice full of concern. “I don’t know, I just don’t like thinking of those two with nothing to do but think about how they’ve been wronged.”
“But they haven’t been,” Skandranon protested. “They retain their rank, they retain all their privileges; they simply do not have a command anymore.”
“Which means they have no power,” Gesten countered. “They have no prestige. They messed up, and everyone knows it. They’ve been shamed, they’ve lost face. That’s a dangerous mood for a man like Shaiknam to be in.”