The Shining Wyrm

9.4

Jewel woke with the dawn.

Which was very much not to her preference but it was better than waking up before it.

The voices of the captains and through them their aides and footmen were already moving through the camp. As Jewel unwound from her own tent she could already see the Gryphon Riders attending their mounts.

Zephyrvam was a familiar sight and Father was going over him with Smithson. No words between them, just assurance and confidence.

Familiarity with Jewel’s squire as they gently brushed fingers down the gryphon’s plumage. Feeling for loose feathers or irregularities.

Jewel nodded to the Gryphon and got a head bob and a warble of greeting in reply. His steed’s action drew Father’s attention and he gave a nod to Smithson who took over his place going over the work to groom the feathers.

“Daughter, how goes the campaign for you? Spotted any more-” He made the Flight Cant gesture from one of the particularly egregious riddles yesterday.

Why anyone would describe a sheep like that, Jewel would never know, but she recognised the jest for what it was. However she only smiled at Father’s humor.

“Not yet, Father, but I only just woke. Are we going to break fast soon?”

To which he nodded then jerked his head to Zephyrvam.

“As soon as the Gryphon’s meals are seen too we will. It’s always best for their bonds to be present when it's feeding time in such close quarters. Jealousy and greed can get the better of them.”

And that did make sense. Jewel raised her head a bit higher than Father’s to peer over the camp and towards where the Gryphon’s own cooking tent had been set up. Flaring her nostrils and perking her ears. By the sound of solid metal cutting bone there were probably goats being broken down for feed as they spoke.

The scent of blood and viscera however did not yet reach her with this wind.

Jewel dropped back down to a more respectful height below her Father’s.

“I think we won’t have to wait much longer. I just heard them chopping in the tent.”

To which Father nodded amiably.

“Then we will be breaking fast soon in council with the generals. And then it will be time to take to the flight and securely scout the path ahead of our march.”

Jewel scowled a bit at mention of both of the army generals but she was proper and knew not to insult her superiors.

Even if they should have been insufferable in any just world.

Father sighed at her as he looked over the other Riders and Gryphon Lords soothing and fussing over their steeds. Some alone, others with as many as four servants attending.

The different plumages were their own kind of fascinating.

Each Gryphon, even ones that Jewel knew were blood kin, took after different birds in their feathers.

Zephyrvam was black as midnight coal, like a raven, but his mother was a snow white interspersed with speckled gray and near black blues. Smokespear’s colors blended together with distance and made her like a gray cloud when in the open sky.

To contrast those two, Bloodcrown, the steed of one of Countess Bathory’s knights, was a smooth coat of near solid deep indigo that blended lighter in places, with a splatter of bright crimson just atop his head.

And then the partner in that pair who went by Woodstrike who was ridden by the other knight was the pale gray and brown colors of a common forest dove. According to the gossip on the wing yesterday those two Gryphons were brother and sister from the same clutch and by the same Drake and Formel.

Yet they could not look more different from one another.

It was very peculiar. Jewel knew that Chickens, Sheep, Horse, Cattle, Pigs and even Men did not so vastly differ in the appearance within their families. But War Gryphons did?

There was also amongst them quite the variance in size.

Zephyrvam and Woodstrike were the largest among the thirteen. With the russet brown youth (Jewel had only ever ‘spoken’ to them via flight cant so did not know their proper name) being the smallest.

But age was not an assurance of size with the War Gryphons.

Seeing them all together on the ground instead of scattered in the air made the variance even more striking.

“He’s not a dishonorable man, Jewel.”

Father’s words shook her out of her musings and drew Jewel’s attention back to his somber face. Before she could manage to still her expression as Mother had taught he was already shaking his head and sighing again.

“I know, I was upset with him too at the time. But it was because I thought he was betraying old blood ties made by both our families to one another.”

That was news to Jewel and she boggled at her Father to his even more confusing laughter.

“The Barony of Kliatbatrn is old but it is not prominent or powerful as the families of Viznove go. It is also the direct neighbor to Kaeketeh, just north along the Váh from the Countess Bathory’s own home. His demesne is closer to the Countess and her court then our home is to Abbot Herbort’s”

Jewel tilted her head not quite seeing the relevance. Her Father sighed and turned across the clearing set aside for the Gryphons, joining the various steeds' own attention turning as staff from the cooking tent began marching up bearing the freshly portioned carcasses of Goats.

Father sighed and moved closer to Zephyrvam who was attentively watching the approaching kitchen staff.

“We will discuss it later, Daughter, but please understand he is required to do things because of the reality of his position. He is not the enemy you might expect him to be from his actions and words at the Countess’ Court.”

Jewel sighed but nodded, her Father was wise and besides that also her Father and Lord. She would trust his judgment in this.

Feeding time for the Gryphons was mostly the usual as she had seen these things go. The only notable thing being that instead of freshly caught game or slaying and devouring one of Rochford’s feed pigs they were being given freshly butchered goats.

It made sense, she supposed, with so many Gryphons it would be difficult to keep the animals from panicking from normal feeding or the Gryphons from gorging.

Beaks snapped up legs, heads and organs whole. Sometimes claws came into play to hold ribs or spines so that Zephyrvam or one of the others could shear out a more easily swallowed chunk.

But all around it was over swiftly and the Gryphons were allowed to begin preening blood and bone chips out of their feathers.

With the potential for greed or jealousy over meat to instigate fights passed the riders left their mounts to the capable hands of their servants and in Zephyrvam’s case Jewel’s squire and moved to see to their own breakfast.

Jewel and her Father joined Count Fiebron on his way from attending Smokespear’s feeding. The three of them heading to his tent for the morning war counsel.

The Lesser Knights and other Gryphon Lords were off to make their own arrangements. With both the first amongst their fraternity attending and the highest General also being a flier there was little reason to attend the meeting themselves.

However, that did not make the tent any less crowded.

Jewel held herself back outside the tent for all the other esteemed lords of the army to pass.

Marcisław was already waiting outside the tent with two of the other figures that Jewel did not know the name of but recognized as having sat with the Countess Bathory at her table.

After them were two lords from Zekhedge that were apparently there to speak for the state of the ground forces that had marched south to Rochford during the muster.

And then at last, still going everywhere with his own two feet like the most unwizardly wizard that ever wizarded, was Jaksa the Red.

After this last member of the council, Jewel slipped her own shoulders and head into the tent and took up her place at the table set up with the odd porridge of Travel Bread soaked in bone marrow broth and goats milk that had been made up over night while most of the camp slept.

It was not the decadence of most of the many meals she had while traveling to Kaeketeh but it still seemed a bit indulgent for breakfast as far as Jewel was concerned.

Once everyone started eating and Count Fiebron had inhaled his entire bowl almost faster then the Gryphons had, the meeting was under way.

Fiebron opened with a rough cough and a statement that left Jewel shocked.

“So how many did we already lose to desertion in the night?”

The Baron of Kliatbatrn and 2nd General huffed and with just as much seriousness answered.

“By my captains’ counts and words I’ve gathered from the other lords, less than four hundred but more than a hundred and fifty. All from the levy of course — the footmen and Knights are accounted for and have held to their honor.”

Fiebron nodded and seemed happy that possibly the entire population of Rochford village or more had apparently deserted on the first day!

“A good start to any campaign, we should make a reminder of the plunder and riches to come and see that a bit clearer word goes out from the captains to explain the basics of military living. These levies are very green. I’ve heard reports that some of the youngest have never even eaten Traveler’s Bread before.”

Which got a few chuckles from the lords in attendance, even from Father. Jewel didn't see the humor in it.

However the 2nd General nodded sharply at that after the murmur settled.

“A good plan. I’ll see the order is given amongst the ground force. All is in order with the flyers, then, first general?”

Which had Jewel snapping to focus away from her confusion.

Count Fiebron nodded back.

“Indeed, second General, as expected all have been well. Perhaps a bit overeager to finally get to the fighting but none have drifted from their duties and I trust as we move away from the shelter of Rochford and Viznose they will all sharpen up. The entanglement with the sorcerous chain of command has also been duly settled?”

Jaksa the Red straightened up at that and spoke clearly and confidently but Jewel could smell and taste his fear in the air.

“As well as can be hoped with what I can best describe as the nearest equivalent of two Kings of wizardry feigning obedience to us. They do precisely as they wish but there is at least agreement from our sorcerous allies that they will mostly remain predictably near where the Generals have requested them to be.”

That got a heavy sigh from Fiebron and a curse of “confounded wizards” from one of the Lords of Viznove Jewel didn’t know.

Which she thought was an especially poor choice as fluttering of pages and the smell of old vellum, ink and leather preceded the arrival of who Jewel was only now fully rested enough to appreciate was Urul The Written Weird.

Everyone stiffened at the intrusion, but the Wizard said nothing, simply ruffled his pages.

Jaksa the Red was still and the silence grew a bit unpleasant before Jewel felt one of those wizardly whispers that were not word or speech or spoken act and yet conveyed their workings pass from Urul to Jaksa.

Which caused him to shake himself and then stand straight at attention before speaking.

“It has been settled that for the next three days of march, the Guardianship assignment to our Shining Wyrm Jewel will be undertaken by Lord Sorcerer Urul The Written Weird. Expect that he is present at all hours henceforth when in the... The Lady Jewel’s presence.”

And with that and a flutter of pages Urul was gone.

Or at least not visible.

Although Jewel was unsure of precisely where or how he was present yet.

She did not yet feel anything in the Wyrmfire around her.

The rest of the meeting after that was rather boring for the next hour it was undertaken. Discussion about supply, the arrangement of which of the Kitchen camps would be at the head or the tail this day and which lords or captains would be best to give rousing speeches to hopefully stall or slow the apparently expected attrition to desertion among the levies.

Father was taken off scouting duty to attend to the freshest levies directly as his bearing, titles and speech craft would go well there.

Jewel honestly had little mind for it after fully comprehending what her situation was however.

She was going to be accompanied by the Author of a Book that she had Read.

She was going to be accompanied by Lord Sorcerer Urul The Written Weird.

It took great effort to not make the happy little chirping squeal of delight and want Jewel had once made when she was still two years old and begging for snacks from Mother.