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Some of his attendants were trying to calm down a few Sixteenth and Guard regulars who were still shouting and provoking the man.
    Kelvren sagged sideways against a trestle table, with one wing slack on the ground and his bandages askew and seeping. The platter on the table was filling up. Soldiers brought their own bowls over to pinch off a bit of meat or bread and set it down on the platter. When they spoke something to Kelvren, the gryphon nodded or smiled—but even from this far away, Hallock could tell that the creature was exhausted. Kelvren reached for a bowl and some of the food on the platter, but his taloned hands shook too much to keep hold of the bowl. A strange-looking boy stuck close to the gryphon, and was there in an instant to catch the bowl and load it up with food.
    “First!” someone called out, and the air filled with a mix of expletives, intakes of breath, and “Sir!” aimed nowhere in particular. All Firsts were Captain in rank. Over a hundred Guard soldiers instantly Weren’t Involved And Were Doing Something Else When It Happened . Whatever “it” might have been. Some soldiers saluted and then swiveled around in the mud to find who they were supposed to be directing it at. “It’s Stavern!” someone else called out, and then a small cheer followed. “Welcome back, sir!” called a junior rider, who jostled around the retreating official to reach Hallock. He saluted again, apparently just to make sure he’d been seen saluting at all, but was also grinning. “Your gryphon friend there, well, we’ve just been taking care of him, sir. He wasn’t getting treated none too well, so, we just helped him out some.” The rider shooed people out of the way to get Hallock over to Kelvren’s side.
    The gryphon swayed a little, and his eyes pinned and dilated several times as he recognized Hallock. “Ah! My fine frrriend Hallock Ssstaverrrn,” he purred. “How isss the belly?”
    “Feels tight.”
    “Hurrrh. Mine, too. Thessse arrre good people, thessse sssoldierrss of yourrrsss. Know the value of a good meal.” A couple of dozen chuckles from all around told Hallock that he was missing something.
    “Kel, you look—”
    “I know how I look,” the gryphon growled threateningly, then mellowed the next moment.
    “Then I hope you don’t feel like you look.”
    Kelvren swallowed, twitching his ears and keeping his eyes closed as a bowlful of food went down his gullet. He sighed loudly and opened his eyes again to lock onto Hallock’s own. “Well-known fact. Feeding a grrryphon isss good luck.” He sighed. “Thisss sssketi -chunk therrre, the . . . what isss it called. Officsse warrrmerrr. That,” He indicated the retreating official and his staff, with his beak. “Ssseems he left orrrderrrs that I wasss to be given a sssackful a day of the ssscrrrapsss unfit forrr the ssstewpot. I took insssult.” He swung his head around to indicate the soldiers in the mess tent with him, several of whom were still coming by to drop bits of their ration into what had become the gryphon’s food tray. “Ssso in the ssspirrrit of equality between alliesss, I came herrre and sharrred the sssack with him. He looked well fed, and ssso in the ssame ssspirit, added sssomething to the sssack himssself beforrre leaving, I think.”
    A couple more soldiers laughed outright, then stifled themselves at Hallock’s withering look. The rider turned Hallock aside and whispered confidentially, “He was in awful shape when he came limping down, sir. An’ we knew what he’d done for you o’course. So when he asked so polite for help, well, we couldn’t refuse. We brought ’im here to get him fed, an’ sent word for the—-well, anyway, things just went as they went. Some of the regulars, well, they crowded the mayor there, and—”
    “Mayor? That was the mayor?” Hallock sighed. He put up a hand to halt the explanation. “So some of you pulled the sack of—scrap—over the mayor’s head.”
    “And