Free Mercedes Lackey - Anthology by Flights of Fantasy

was, she
bounced off the shutters more than once. And she kept up the cacophony until
Adelia threw the bedquilt over her, whereupon Wren dropped to the floor and lay
silent and panting.
                 "Obviously
someone will have to sleep in the barn tonight," Adelia snarled.
                 Nairn
bowed,
                 "Not
you! That's a valuable bird," she said. "I won't risk its being
stolen.
                 "And
don't get any ideas," Adelia warned him as she noted a flicker of interest
spark in those sherry-brown eyes. "You will only be here to see that this
bird is well tended."
                 The
sorceress turned and contemplated Wren where she lay quietly beneath the
blanket, then the gently steaming tub of scented water, and finally she turned
back to look into the interested eyes of her falconer.
                 "Put
that down," she said, indicating the goshawk. "Then go and tell the
landlord that I'll need a curtain set up to run across the room. If we can keep
Wren from seeing the bird, she should keep quiet."
                 She
could have created some sort of barrier magically, but Adelia never wasted
power if there was a more mundane way of doing things. Particularly
if the doing required no effort on her part.
                 Nairn
settled the hawk on its perch, bowed, and left the room. Adelia smiled, pleased
with her purchases. She could hardly wait to see what he and the hawk combined
would become.
                 Now
I think on it, the girl I combined with Wren was a coward. She remembered the
pale, tear-stained face with disgust. The spell had been designed to put the
bird personality uppermost, but the shy little bird and the cowardly girl had
only accentuated each other's defects. This time, she thought happily, I should
have much better results.
                 Adelia
carried her hawk on her wrist for the first few miles of the journey home,
wearing the too large gauntlet over her own exquisitely embroidered glove.
                 Wren,
blindfolded, rode behind her, clutching the high rim of the sidesaddle and
trying not to slide off. Every now and again, Nairn, walking beside them, put a
hand beneath the girl's foot and hoisted her back up.
                 "Should
we feed him?" Adelia asked Naim.
                 "Nay, my lady. From the look of his crop, he'll be all
right for a while. And the hawk seller told me he hadn't been trained. While
I'm sure he could find himself some dinner with no problem, getting him back to
hand would be impossible."
                 She
looked down on him and allowed herself a very small smile.
                 "I
can do many things that others consider impossible, Naim. You would do well to
remember that."
                
                 He
bowed, and she laughed at his ridiculous courtly manners. Then she pulled up
her horse.
                 "You
were right, the bird grows heavy. Take him." She lowered her arm, and
raised her brows when Naim sought to remove the glove with the bird. "Take
him, I said," Adelia commanded.
                 The
relsk stone did its work and Naim brought his bare hand up immediately and
touched the hawk behind the ankles.
                 As
soon as its talons clamped down on the man's arm, blood began to flow.
                 "Ah,"
she said, stripping off the glove and dropping it. Immediately it filled as
though an arm were wearing it and it floated into position behind the hawk.
                 When
the bird had stepped onto it, she said, "Now put your arm inside the
glove."
                 Wincing,
Naim did so. She rode on, unconcerned.
                 "Have
you a shed where we can keep the bird, my lady?" he asked, his voice thick with pain.
                 "Yes,
but why can we not keep him in the house?"