The white gryphon

by Mercedes Lackey

  They're tall. They are very tall. The ship was finally close enough for Amberdrake to make some kind of guess as to the general appearance of these people. The thing that struck him first was their height. The shortest of them would probably top the tallest Kaled'a'in by at least a head. Their features were handsome enough, finely sculptured, although they were not as hawklike as the Kaled'a'in. Amberdrake was amazed by the garments the three—officials?—were wearing; although the material was very light by the way it fluttered, it was woven with incredibly detailed geometric patterns in bright yellows, reds, and oranges. The robes fastened high up on the side of the neck, with the openings running down the left of the front rather than the middle. The robes boasted high, stiff collars that matched the cylindrical hats each of them wore. Heavy, jeweled neckpieces lay on their breasts and shoulders, and heavy, matching brooches centered their odd hats.

  Although their hair was as tightly-curled as a sheep's fleece, it was so black that it swallowed up all the light. The sailors wore theirs at every length, although perhaps "length" was the wrong term to use for hair that stood out rather than draping down the owner's back. Some of them had cropped their hair so close to the skull that there was nothing there but a short frizz; others had clearly not cut their hair for months, even years. It stood out away from their heads as if lightning had just struck them. But the three men waiting with folded hands wore their hair as short as they could and still be said to have hair. The hats fit too closely to allow for any amount of hair.

  They were all, without a doubt, beautiful to behold. Unfortunately they did not look pleased, if Amberdrake was any judge of expressions.

  They did not bring the boat to the dock; instead, they anchored out in the bay, with a sophisticated set of tensioned fore- and aft-anchors that held them steady against the waves.

  And there they waited. The sailors formed up in loose ranks on the deck of the ship and remained there, unmoving.

  No one spoke a word; the ship hung at anchor, with the only sound being the steady pounding of the surf on the rocks.

  "It appears that they expect us to come to them," Judeth observed, in her usual dry manner.

  Of course they do. We're the interlopers, the barbarians. Amberdrake would have called for a boat to take him and the rest of the Council to the strangers if there had been any—but there weren't. Every vessel they owned was out fishing or dropping nets.

  "They aren't stupid," Skan rumbled. "They can see we don't have the means to come to them. Besides, if they came this far, they can go a few more feet."

  And be damned annoyed when they do, Amberdrake thought silently, but he held his peace. There wasn't any way they could go out to the waiting vessel, except by flying, and he was not about to suggest that Skan go out there by himself. There was no point in wrapping a potential hostage up like a gift and presenting him to a possible enemy.

  The tense moments passed, marked by the waves breaking against the rocks, as the Haighlei stared and the Kaled'a'in stared back, each of them waiting for the other to make the next move. But as it became clear that there were no other vessels available, not even a tiny coracle, the Haighlei leaders turned to the sailors, gesturing as they ordered their men to bring up the anchors and move in to the docks.

  To make up for the loss of face, the Haighlei brought their ship in with a smooth expertise that Amberdrake watched with envy. There were no wasted motions, and nothing tentative about the way the captain and pilot maneuvered the ship. Even though the dock was completely unfamiliar to them, they had their vessel moored and comfortably snugged in to the wooden piers in a fraction of the time it took their own people to do the same with a much smaller boat.

  "They're good," Judeth muttered, with grudging admiration. "They're damned good. I'll have to remember to dredge some sandbars to hang them up on if they turn hostile and bring friends. It would cut back the effectiveness of the drag-fishing nets, but we could work around that. If there are hostilities, the gryphons and kyree wouldn't be free to pull nets in, anyway."

  Amberdrake nodded, impressed all the more by the fact that Judeth's mind never seemed to stop examining resource management and strategy, even while watching the ship draw in.

  Within a few moments, the Haighlei sailors had run a gangplank down to the dock, and were unrolling a strip of heavy woven material patterned in bright reds and browns to cover it. Then they scrambled back aboard their ship, and formed a line of alert bodies along the railing—all this without another issued order.

  Only then did the three envoys—if that was what they really were—deign to descend to the dock. And there, standing on the strip of material, they waited, hands tucked into the sleeves of their elaborate, fluttering robes.

  Amberdrake started to step forward, hesitated, and caught both Judeth and Skandranon's eyes. Judeth nodded, slightly, and Skan made an abrupt motion with his beak. Amberdrake assumed the leadership position of the group, and the others followed.

  He was the only one of the lot properly garbed to meet these people; Snowstar was wearing simple Kaled'a'in breeches and a wrapped coat, both old and worn. Judeth, though her pepper-and-salt hair might have given her the authority of age, wore one of her old black uniforms with the insignia removed and only the silver gryphon badge on the breast. Bearlike, red-haired Tamsin, who shared the Healers' Council seat with his love, Lady Cinnabar, was as shabbily dressed as Snowstar. Only Amberdrake kept up some pretense of elegance these days; somehow it didn't feel right for a Council member to show up in public dressed as if he had just been weeding his garden (as Snowstar had been) or scrubbing medical equipment (which was where Tamsin had been). As the best-dressed Council member, perhaps it was wisest for him to pretend to the position of leader.

  He stopped, within easy conversational distance, but no closer. The stern, forbidding expressions on the faces of the envoys did not encourage hearty greetings.

  "Welcome to White Gryphon," he said, slowly and carefully—and hoping frantically that these people might be able to speak his tongue! "We are the Ruling Council of the city. I am Amberdrake." He introduced the rest of his colleagues as the Haighlei stood there impassively, giving no indication of whether they understood him or not. "May we ask what brings you to our settlement?" he finished, a little desperately.

  The man in the middle removed his hands from his sleeves, and cleared his throat. "You trespass upon the lands of King Shalaman, and violate the sanctity of Haighlei territory," he said, coldly, clearly, and in a precise but dated form of their own tongue. "You will leave, or you will be removed."

  Amberdrake stood there, stunned. A hundred things ran through his mind. Should I apologize? Should I beg for mercy? Should I explain how we came here? What should I say?

  Judeth stepped forward and folded her arms over her chest, matching the envoys stare for stare. "We will stay," she stated, baldly, her eyes meeting theirs without blinking. "There were no territory markers here when we arrived, and there are no signs of habitation for two days' flight in any direction. We can withstand any force your King may bring against us. We have been settled here almost ten years, and we are staying."

  Amberdrake nearly bit his tongue off, suppressing a yelp of dismay. What is she doing? Who does she think these people are? What—

  "Drake," Skan said—as softly as a gryphon could—in Kaled'a'in, "Judeth's calling their bluff. They can't force us out, not now, not without bringing a lot of troops up here, way off from their own nearest city, and not without a big expense. They weren't using this land for anything. And Judeth knows we have to look as if we're operating from a position of strength or they won't take us seriously."

  Judeth, who understood Kaled'a'in quite as well as any gryphon, nodded ever so slightly.

  The impassive masks of the envoys cracked the tiniest fraction with shock, as if they had no idea that someone might actually challenge them. "You will leave," the middle envoy began again, as if by repetition he could make his point.

  "I said, we
will not," Judeth replied, this time with more force. She smiled, slightly, as the wind stirred her short curls. "We are, however, willing to make alliance with King Shalaman in return for the use of this land." The envoys did not actually faint with indignation at Judeth's bold statement, but they were certainly shocked. They were shocked enough to turn away and confer together in buzzing whispers, all the while casting dubious glances over their shoulder at the Council members.

  "I hope you know what you're doing, Judeth," Amberdrake muttered, watching the three envoys—though what he would do if they announced that they were leaving then and there, he had no idea.

  "I had my hand in some of Urtho's diplomatic doings," Judeth said with equanimity. "Not a lot—but I know a bluff when I see one. Skandranon is right. These people can't possibly have any way of dislodging us without a lot of trouble. If we take a strong stand now, they're more likely to give us some respect. It'll suit them better and save face all around if they decide to make an alliance with us and pretend it was all their own idea."

  Before Amberdrake could reply, the middle envoy turned abruptly and centered his gaze on Judeth. "Flight, you said," he said to her, frowning. "Two days' flight." Although it was not phrased as a question, it clearly was one. Skan read it that way, too, and stepped forward himself. The envoy had ignored his presence and that of Aubri up until this moment—a rather difficult proposition, considering that he was the size of a small horse. "Indeed," Skandranon told the man in his deepest and most impressive voice, fanning his wings for emphasis. "We gryphons, who are also citizens of this settlement, made flights in all directions before we settled here." He tilted his head toward the man, whose mouth had actually dropped open in shock on hearing the "beast" speak. Skandranon looked up, with his head lowered at just the right angle to make his brows and eyes appear even more raptorial than usual. "You might be amazed at the things we do."

  The envoy closed his mouth quickly, as if he had just swallowed a bug; the other two were looking a bit ill, with a grayish tone to their skin beneath the natural deep black color. The middle man looked at his two colleagues, who simply blinked at him uneasily. He turned back toward Amberdrake.

  "We will confer," he said shortly, and without another word, he marched back up the gangplank, followed by his fellows.

  Two sailors sprang down onto the docks and quickly rolled up the strip of carpet, taking it back aboard the ship. They did not retract the gangplank, however, which might be a sign that the envoys were not done with White Gryphon yet.

  Amberdrake could only hope.

  "Now what?" he asked Skan and Judeth. Judeth shrugged.

  Skan actually chuckled. "I think that is obvious," he replied. "Now we wait. And of course—we eat. Is anyone besides me hungry? I think that if Aubri and I bite through a few leg-sized bones while we're in eyesight of these diplomats, they might just reconsider any conflicts and be friendly."

  Judeth, at least, made one concession, a concession that really didn't do much to mitigate Amberdrake's anxiety; she suggested that the rest of the Council members drift off one at a time and return wearing clothing a little more appropriate to the situation. "Except Drake, of course," she added, with an enigmatic half-smile. "He is never underdressed."

  Amberdrake wasn't certain whether to take that as a compliment or the opposite.

  She also suggested that Tamsin send Lady Cinnabar in his stead, a suggestion that everyone else seconded.

  Tamsin was hardly offended. "I was going to suggest that myself," he said, with obvious relief. "Cinnabar has a lot more experience at this sort of situation than I do!" He thought for a moment, then added, "I'll Mindspeak Kechara while I'm on my way up; I've got some ideas that may speed things up a bit."

  He sprinted for the path to the top of the cliff; Amberdrake did not envy him the climb that was ahead of him. But when Lady Cinnabar appeared, long before even their most athletic youngster could have made it up the winding path, it was obvious that at least one of Tamsin's ideas had been to have Kechara send her down directly.

  She was wearing one of her seldom-used court gowns, a lush creation of silver brocade and emerald silk that went well with her pale blonde hair, making her a fit match for Amberdrake's beaded and embroidered, bronze-and-brown finery. And with her were two hertasi laden with "proper" clothing for Judeth and Snowstar, at least by Amberdrake's standards of the clothing appropriate to diplomatic receptions. Judeth sighed when she saw the particular uniform that her hertasi had brought, but she made no other complaint. Both of them headed for one of the nearby boathouses to change, while the two gryphons, Amberdrake, and Lady Cinnabar waited, keeping their vigil.

  It would not be too much longer before the fishing "fleet" came in, and what they were going to make of this imposing vessel, Amberdrake had no notion. He had confidence in the basic good sense of everyone out on the water, though; the sea was a harsh teacher, and those who were not possessed of good sense had not survived the first two years of experimenting with boats and fishing.

  "I met Tamsin on the way down, and he told me everything you know so far," Cinnabar said, as she examined the Haighlei ship without appearing to pay any attention to it at all. "I don't entirely agree with Judeth's approach, Amberdrake. I'm not sure it was necessary to be quite so blunt with these people."

  Amberdrake shrugged. "I feel the same way," he agreed. "But she'd already gotten the bit between her teeth and was galloping away before I could stop her. The little that I know about the Haighlei is that they are extremely formal, that their culture is very complicated. I'm afraid we shocked them, and I only hope we didn't utterly revolt them."

  Cinnabar pursed her thin lips, but made no other change in her expression. "That could work to our advantage," she told him. "If we follow up on the shock in the right way, that is. Now that we have shocked them with our barbaric directness—which could be a sign of power, and they can't know one way or another yet—we need to prove we can play the diplomatic game as well. We can't simply let them dismiss us as beneath them; we have to complicate the issue for them."

  Amberdrake nodded, relieved to have someone on his side in this. "We also can't afford to have them out there, waiting, watching for us to make a fatal mistake," he agreed, "And if we shock and frighten them too much, that's exactly how they may decide to treat us." Then he smiled weakly. "Although on the surface of things, it does look as if it would be very difficult for them to insert a spy among us without a boatload of makeup."

  Judeth emerged from the boathouse at that moment, looking as if she had just come from a dress parade. Somehow, despite the fact that the stiff, severely tailored black-and-silver uniform she wore was over ten years old—this time with all her medals and rank-decorations on it—her hertasi had made it look as if it had just been fitted for her yesterday. With it she wore her favorite thigh-high, black leather boots, marking her former position as a cavalry commander.

  "I'm glad to see you here so quickly, Cinnabar," Judeth said with a smile. "This is not my strong suit. Telling them they have no choice but to live with us—now that is my strong suit! But from now on—" she made a helpless little gesture with on hand. "—I'm in the woods. You and Amberdrake play this the way you see fit."

  Amberdrake relaxed a trifle; it would have been very difficult to get anything done if half of the Council members were at odds with the other half—

  "I agree," Skan put in, "with one proviso. I do not believe that these people are familiar with gryphons or kyree—creatures that they think are mere animals—being intelligent. Look at the way they reacted when I spoke! If you wish, you may put me forward as the titular ruler here, and that will throw them further off balance, a state which we can use to our advantage."

  "Now that is a good idea," Cinnabar said thoughtfully. "It might be the factor that turns us from mere barbarians into something so very exotic that we take ourselves out of the realm of anything they can calculate. We might be able to get away with a great deal more than we would as barbarian
s. They will certainly assume we are the most alien things they have ever seen, and make allowances. I like it."

  "So do I," Amberdrake replied, as Snowstar emerged from the boathouse, garbed in one of his sweeping, midnight-blue silk robes, with dagged sleeves faced with white satin and a white leather belt. He had braided ornaments of white feathers and crystals into his hair as well, and now was more splendid than Amberdrake.

  "Well, look who's putting us in the shade," Judeth chuckled, as Snowstar rejoined them. "Where were you keeping that rig all this time?"

  "In a chest, where it belonged," Snowstar replied serenely. "It's not exactly the sort of thing one wears for building walls, weeding gardens, or trekking across the wilderness." He half-bowed to Lady Cinnabar, who smiled back at him. "One wonders what our visitors will make of our transformation."

  They did not have to wait much longer to find out. As the first of the fishing vessels came up to the dock and tied up—be it noted, carefully and cautiously—the three envoys emerged from the cabin of their ship, waited for the sailors to unroll the carpet again, and trooped down the gangplank to face the Kaled'a'in delegation.

  The Haighlei did not miss the change in wardrobe; each of the envoys gave them a penetrating glance, although they said nothing. Skan did not pause to give them a chance to speak first.

  "You surprised us with your coming," he said graciously, rumbling deeply despite the clear volume—offering an apology that was not an apology. "We of the White Gryphon Council are as much responsible for the work of our settlement as any of our citizens. We were dressed for labor when you arrived, as is our duty. Nevertheless, we deemed it important to be here at your arrival—and felt it was irresponsible to keep you waiting as clothes were changed. Healer Tamsin was required urgently above; in his place is the Honorable Lady Cinnabar, also a Healer and a member of our Council."