"Mercedes Lackey & Larry Dixon - Mage Wars 03 - The Silver Gryphon" - читать интересную книгу автора (Lackey Mercedes)

appeared to be a large basket, about the size of a six-person expedition-tent. There was a complicated
webbing of ropes attached to it, and standing nearby was Tadrith, with a hertasi helping him into a heavy
leather harness. As usual, he was carrying on a running dialogue with his helper, trying to get his harness
adjusted perfectly. She knew better than to interrupt; her life would depend on that harness and whether
or not he was comfortable in it.
This was the carry-basket that would take her and all their supplies to the Outpost. It looked far, far
too heavy for Tadrith to fly with, and it was. Even the strongest of gryphons would not have been able to
lift her alone in it unaided.
But magic was working reliably enough these days, and there would be a mage somewhere around
who had made certain that the basket and anything that might be in it would "weigh" nothing, with a
reserve for changes in momentum and speed. He would essentially have made the basket into a variant of
one of the Kaled'a'in floating-barges. Tadrith would not be "lifting" the basket, only guiding it.
The spell was a complicated one that Blade couldn't even begin to understand. Anything inside the
basketтАФlike herselfтАФwould still have its apparent weight. If that wasn't the case, everything not tied
down would be in danger of drifting off on a stiff breeze. But to Tad, although the basket had no
up-and-down weight, it would still have a certain amount of side-to-side mass and momentum. He would
not be lifting it, but he would have to exert some strength in pulling it, just as teams of dyheli and horses
pulled the floating barges.
Blade hurried up to check the supplies lashed down inside the basket. As Aubri had promised, the
supply sergeant had taken care of everything she and Tad would need except for their own personal
gear. Most of the supplies they had requisitionedтАФthe ones for after they reached the outpostтАФhad
already been sent on via Gate. So only what they would need for the trip, what there had not been time
to send by the Gate, and what she had brought with her would actually travel with them.
That's certainly going to relieve Tad.
It had also relieved Tad when she told him that she was nothing like her father when it came to
wardrobe. She could manage very simply, actually; but Aubri had once described Amberdrake's
floating-barge and if gryphons could have blanched, Tad would have, at the thought of having to help
move all that mass of clothing, gear, and furniture.
She tossed her two bags into the basket, and waited quietly beside the platform for the last of the
adjustments to be made. The hertasi in charge was Gesten's daughter Ghana; as thorough and
meticulous as her father, she would not leave Tadrith's side until they were both satisfied with the fit of
every strap. Blade knew that every buckle would be checked and rechecked, every rivet and every ring
subjected to the most exacting scrutiny. Ghana would leave nothing to chance, and there was no possible
compromise with safety in her view.
Finally, she stepped back. "It'll do," she said, in her hissing hertasi voice. "Try to bring the rig back
in one piece."
Blade suppressed a laugh, for the remark was so like Gesten that it could have been he who was
standing there. Like her father, Ghana would never admit to concern for the trainees she served, only to
concern that the equipment return intact. But of course, it went without saying that if the equipment came
back to the warehouse in pristine condition, the trainee would certainly have arrived at the landing
platform in like shape.
Tad waved her over, as Ghana began hooking up his harness to the basket itself. "We're waiting for
the parents, I presume?" he said casually.
She sighed. "Much as I would like to simply slip away, if we leave without allowing them their
fanfare, they may not let us come back."
"Or we may not want to," he groaned, and flexed his claws restlessly. "Because when we did, they'd
make our lives sheer misery with guilt."
She laughed, and patted him on the shoulder. "Parents always know how to pull your strings," she
advised him. "After all, they attached those strings in the first place."
"Do I hear someone borrowing my words?" The newcomer to the conversation was as elegant as