Chapter 2

After cogitating for several days, brooding and inactive as the cold weather froze Thread black and crumbling from snow laden skies, M'gol sought out T'rin. T'rin liked and respected M'gol and had been pleased when he had transferred from Benden to be near R'gar again. However, as M'gol spoke, T'rin blinked and stared in disbelief as the man outlined not only his concerns but his plans to follow up J'nara's suggestion.

"so you see" M'gol explained "As you have lived Holdless – and at the Harper Hall doubtless learned to play a part anyway – I thought you could give me advice about how to appear as a labourer."

T'rin hooted with derision.

"You, M'gol? You'll never do it!"

M'gol bridled.

"Why not?" he asked curtly. T'rin chuckled.

"A Weyrbred bronze rider from Benden? Lower his eyes before an inadequate in charge of his work team – or even a cotholder? Don't make me laugh!" he snorted. "You'd lose your rag in double quick time and curse someone to the Red Star and back, and then there'd be trouble – for you'd either have to take your stripes like any other of us low born scum or else confess who you were. And THAT" he added grimly "Would bring trouble to T'bor over why his dragonmen should be spying on the commons. For that's how it would be perceived" he warned.

M'gol had not considered the last point. He grimaced

"I could try being very careful." He suggested.

"Wherry teeth" opined T'rin good naturedly. "You were BORN to be proud. How can you forget it? If you did go, it would have to be with a minder. And I can't because Renpeth is still too much a baby" he put in, chagrined. "Esruth is still a little young to accept long separation from D're, though I guess you could go for days out with him. D're is the only really knowledgeable person around here, and I'd not let H'llon out of the Weyr without a lead."

M'gol was hurt by the choice of the word 'minder' for all the world as though his wits were between; but the comment about H'llon struck him as harsher.

"hold on, T'rin" he said. "H'llon strikes me as a very steady young man."

"He is" asseverated T'rin. "And I count him a good friend. But he's craftbred and about as naïve as they come. Besides, he's got a fine sense of justice. In a Bronze Rider that's good – in fact he's more or less what they had in mind when Bronze Riders got invented. If he were acting the labourer, what trouble you didn't get in, he would. Besides, who ever heard of a common labourer with four firelizards?"

M'gol had to admit the justice of the last remark; and reflected that T'rin had a point with the other. H'llon was known to wade in regardless to break up anything he regarded as bullying; and if things were indeed as bad in some places as people had been suggesting that might be a bad idea!

"Is it as bad as they say?" M'gol asked. T'rin shrugged.

"It is bad in places" he said. "Mostly it's a case of people not wanting to get involved with people who are not their own, or who are different; so it comes across as really callous. It's just that there's only a limited amount of resources and most folk can't afford extras or freeloaders. Society stands on a knife edge because of the ongoing threat of Thread. One of the expressions of the way we survive that is by having a very rigid society. This involves everyone knowing their place and staying there. Anyone who steps outside of that is a potential threat: and most people react to threats with violence,"

"It's that simple?" asked M'gol surprised.

"Hardly simple" T'rin told him dryly. "The precise way any one person reacts can never be described as simple. But that's the simplified reason."

M'gol wondered at the depth of understanding of people that even young Harpers acquiredin their training! T'rin went on,

"Look, why don't you talk to T'lan? She's usually good for bright ideas."

M'gol nodded; it seemed a good idea.

T'lana heard M'gol out; and managed not to laugh.

"It would perhaps" she mused "be GOOD for some of you weyrbred types to see how the other half live. Equally" she added "It would be good to have some young people from the Holds visit and get to understand dragons and dragonfolk better" she frowned thoughtfully. "For that I should have to speak to people like Deckter and Bargen and Lord Groghe. It's a possibility for the future. Meantime, I think you'd do better to go out with the knowledge of someone in a position of authority who can keep half an eye out for you to cover up any, er, problems."

M'gol flushed. From being a scrubby brat who had stood trembling before him to beg him to make up his quarrel with R'gar, T'lana had grown into an assured young weyrwomanwho somehow left him feeling like one of her weyrlings! T'lana smiled brightly at him.

"Well, it's no good pretending that you're going to find grovelling to people easy, is it?" she asked.

He pulled a face.

"T'lan, bless you, at least you're the first person that hasn't told me that I can't do it!" he declared. "Even if you might be thinking it."

She shrugged.

"I think you can do it – for a short while. You won't find it easy – but I recall telling you once that the best things in life seldom are; and you concurred. That pride of yours will make you refuse to give up and be beat."

M'gol nodded, grinning to himself as he recalled that conversation in which she had inadvertently compared R'gar as one of life's good things to Benden wine. He told her,

"I can do it. And if I speak out of turn and get beaten, I can take pain. Shards, Thread causes plenty of that, and we've all suffered it."

T'lan touched his face affectionately.

"It's not the pain, dear one" she explained gently, using the affectionate term she usually reserved for those she considered her family or dependants. "It's the humiliation" she added. "It's like when those renegades…" she choked and broke off, clenching her fists at her sides, remembering how she had submitted to rape almost three turns before in order to save her friends from abuse and to prevent the desperate men from using their crossbows on their dragons at that fateful spring picnic. M'gol patted her awkwardly on the shoulder; and she gave him a brittle smile.

"Try not to get in a situation where you could be beaten, M'gol" she advised dryly.

"I was not intending so to do" he assured her.

"You need someone with you. Someone practical and knowledgeable" she frowned. "Pity Esruth's not a bit older. He might take a prolonged absence from D're, but not with L'rilly being extra loving to him to help him cope. I'd not ask that of the poor little fellow" she grinned. "I love L'rilly like a sister – but she's a little, uh, volatile. And she's worried about something right now too – nothing that's any of your business – and as she's being unwontedly calm about it I suspect she'd more concerned than she'd like anyone to know.." She pulled a wry face. Although L'rilly took many of her troubles now to her weyrmate D're, T'lana still found herself receiving the brunt of the blonde weyrwoman's more vocal troubles.. T'lan poured a mug of klah from the insulated jug that sat warming on the small metal stove she had installed in her and R'gar's day weyr. "If we knew where D're's family were right now, maybe we could have asked his brother or uncle, for he speaks of them with affection despite them dumping him after his accident. Still, we must work with who we do have." She took several turns about the room, striding about restlessly; and M'gol's mouth twitched at the mannerisms she unconsciously copied from R'gar. She continued, "R'cal is steady, but not, um, amenable to take any crackdust from anyone lacking in a modicum of common sense…"

M'gol chuckled. Blue Camnath's rider would tell anyone up to and including the Weyrleader if he disagreed with them.

"What about Z'kan?" suggested T'lana, wheeling round to face M'gol as the idea struck her. The Bronze rider frowned thoughtfully, considering the Oldtimer who regularly made clandestine visits to his daughter at High Reaches; and who had just become the lover of T'lana's cousin Z'linda when Zith had risen for the second time two days before.

"He is craftbred not weyrbred" he said.

"And he has spent time pretending to be a marksman for the Smithcraft Hall when he was looking for a safe place for Zaira" added T'lana. "He's practical, and he has shown he can play a part. If he acted the itinerant smith, I've just the person in mind for you to work under – and you'll be able to go to the High Reaches Winter Gather which would give you the opportunity to see a whole cross section of life!"

T'lana sought out J'nara – and had the whole story from the girl. J'nara was horrified that M'gol had taken her seriously.

"He doesn't do serious!" she complained. "And now he is – just because I was feeling tetchy!"

T'lan lifted an eyebrow and J'nara wrinkled her nose.

"His permanently flirtatious pose irritates me somewhat anyway" the girl shrugged. "And his expectation that girls like it. It so happened that he caught me at THAT time anyway and I flew at him breathing fire" she sighed. "I never thought he'd actually DO what I suggested, he's such a baby really, he'd get into trouble."

T'lana found an interesting spot on her left hand to gaze firmly at. As she contained her sudden mirth.

"He seems to have made up his mind" she managed to sound quite serious. "And he's not such a babe as you think. All that boyishness is just an act, you know. He's as close as R'gar in his own way – only R'gar goes gruff and M'gol acts the fool. I daresay" she added with her tongue firmly in her cheek "If he could only find a really good woman he'd feel less insecure. He's afraid, you know, of being trapped into a de facto commitment by some harridan who is more interested in the colour of his dragon than the quality of his personality."

J'nara blushed deep crimson.

"His status does count with some people." She said dryly. "And their parents."

M'gol was still avoiding the attentions of a rather silly vapid girl whose mother determinedly waylaid him. T'lana laughed.

"At least you've relaxed from being tongue-tied and respectful to all dragonmen, dear one" she said. "M'gol's a big boy now; and you're quite right to send him about his business and tell him to learn the facts of life. The boyish pose will lose its charm with the first grey hair he sports. And I know there's a lot more to him than that flippant exterior" she added seriously. J'nara nodded, burning. She had noticed that M'gol was one of those people who was always there to help out whenever anyone needed it, without pulling rank at all. She worried though about T'lana's comment about herself.

"I should be more respectful, I know" she ventured. "I think perhaps I've relaxed too much because so many ranking people are kind to me."

"Fardles!" T'lan snorted. "Diffident does NOT become a dragonrider. Bronze riders deserve respect because they take the most risk because their dragons are bigger and stronger and can afford to do so. But that's respect for their bravery and capability. It has nothing to do with social interaction. Whatever Bronze riders from other weyrs might think. M'gol transferred here; he must have liked the atmosphere. So he'll have to live with the way we do things!"

J'nara thought about T'lan's words: but she still sought out M'gol to remonstrate.

"Bronze Rider, have you wherries loose in your top paddock?" she asked him bluntly. She had meant to approach him more respectfully and make a gentle protest; but the sight of him and his ridiculous tuft of hair that would not stay down sent all her resolves between. M'gol raised an eyebrow.

"Why, weyrwoman, I thought it right and proper to do as you suggested!" he said facetiously.

J'nara actually stamped her foot!

"I apologise for issuing a foolish challenge!" it did not sound much like an apology. "It was improper of me" she worked on softening her tone. "I was irritated. I did not expect you to go through with it. It would be no dishonour to back away from such a hasty, ill considered challenge."

"Oh, but it would, green rider" he said gravely. "You have opened my eyes to a lack in myself. I could not live with myself if I did not follow it through" there was no mistaking the unaccustomed note of sincerity in his voice.

"But…weyrbred people are so sheltered" she whispered. "You could get hurt…" a tear gathered at the corner of one eye.

"Then I shall have to grow up quick, shan't eye?" he began cheerfully; then caught sight of the tear, and took her chin gently in his hand. "Do you mean you actually do care if I get into trouble?" he asked, wonderingly. J'nara swallowed hard.

"I – I care about risking a good Bronze Rider for a stupid bet" she managed.

"Not for my own sweet sake?" the tone was his usual light hearted teasing one; but there was something serious in his eyes .J'nara twitched her chin free.

"Not in that mood, no." she said tartly. "I like you, M'gol, when you're not playacting at being Pern's greatest gift to women."

"Will you at least wish me luck?"

"I'd rather you backed down."

"So you DO care?"

"Don't delude yourself!" she snapped; and stalked off.

M'gol grinned. J'nara was known as 'Gentle J'nara' for her usually placid and kind disposition. Her reactions to the Bronze Riser were suggestive that her apparent indifference might just not be true!

Why would she hide it? Wondered M'gol. She had never shown disapproval of weyr attitudes to casual love. Then it struck him, and he groaned! At this time his reputation was against him – he was perceptive enough to realise that J'nara was probably trying to fool herself more than him – so as not to get hurt!

T'lana had a very good idea of how to help M'gol achieve his goal; but as Mirrith was egg heavy she had to wait until the little Queen dragon had taken herself into the hatching cavern and laid twenty seven beautiful – as T'lana assured her – eggs. Mirrith was quite happy to leave her eggs for short periods, and was even amenable about flying Threadfall when it occurred. Although she took some proprietorial interest in her eggs, she took more notice of the dragonets and their Impressed partners after hatching. As T'lan was wont to say, Mirrith never did anything the usual way about! In the meantime, T'lana spoke to Z'kan and found him amusedly willing to take on the task of looking out for M'gol . She ran some ideas past the Oldtimer, and they hammered out a plan to present to M'gol as a fait accompli once T'lana had ascertained that the placement she had in mind would be available. Then all she had to do was wait for Mirrith to the Winter Gather was a little over a sevenday away when T'lan directed Mirrith to land at runner owner Tragen's large Runner Hold. She was careful not to overfly the nervous beasts and landed downwind, a courtesy which was appreciated by the dour holder. However, as she released the cascade of auburn hair from her flying cap, he was not surprised; for he had learned to respect the young queenrider who had cleared up the mystery of the organised race fixing and had exposed the rogues who had so callously let a runner suffer.

T'lana started to come towards Tragen, but got diverted to greet the mare Darkstar. Carrot appeared from T'lana's pocket and the grim faced holder's expression relaxed into a half smile. He appreciated the girl's love of runners – he himself preferred the beasts to humans, one reason he had never re-married after his wife's death, though the union had been fruitless. He had yet to find a woman who shared his passion sufficiently. It was, he reflected, ironic; he knew T'lana's foster father, though not well, and he might have considered approaching Sarel over a union with his daughter had she not been so young when she disappeared! Obviously she was more suited to dragons even than runners; which Tragen felt to be a bit of a waste, for she was a good girl, and someone he might even think of as a friend. Not like the determined young widow Zeleika whom he had met at Nabol Hold Gather, and who was determinedly pursuing him. The girl plainly viewed runners as no more than a means of transport or a source of income, for all the world as though they were fat porcines! Tragen left that unsatisfactory line of thought alone to smile at and greet T'lana.

"Well met, Weyrwoman!" he said, extending his right hand palm up in greeting. It was not a full extension; belatedly he wondered if dragonfolk felt themselves too far above him for such courtesies. T'lana dispelled his concern by taking his hand in her firm, boyish grip, smiling in pleasure as at meeting an old friend.

"Tragen! Good to see you again! How is Darkspeed?" she asked after the mare who had been disguised as her sister Darkstar and forced to run though she suffered from joint ail. Lord Bargen had awarded the ailing mare back to Tragen as a brood mare and because he knew that the crusty holder would see her well cared for. Tragen smiled his thin smile in genuine amusement at T'lana's priorities.

"She is much improved, thank you Weyrwoman. The fish oil you were kind enough to send helped, inside and out – though getting her to swallow it until I devised a pill was – interesting!"

T'lan chuckled.

"Master Oldive came across a reference to its use when looking up old records to treat a child my friend fosters. He was born with a kind of joint ail, and a condition the records suggest was first described in a dragon. Our elderly, be they human or dragon, certainly appreciate it!"

"I imagine it must be very different riding a dragon to riding runners!" he remarked, making polite conversation. T'lana considered the question seriously, her head on one side.

"Yes – but perhaps for some people maybe less yes than you'd think." She said cryptically. Tragen looked questions at her and she hurried on, "I hear all dragons – and I think that I communicate a little with runners. They always seem to trust me, anyway." She did not mention her ability to hear human thoughts; most people found that altogether too unsettling. In truth, she had never considered her ability to gentle runners before, thinking it quite natural; but it was a logical extension of her powers. The human thought had been so much more coherent, it had been that she had noticed most in her early years. She went on, "there are many manifestations of strange abilities – people who can predict Thread, or storms, or" she grinned "Can pick out the colours of dragonets before they hatch." D're and H'llon were busy getting ready to take K'len and his book on Mirrith's clutch; K'len had still not worked out how it was done and thought the last time had just been a fluke! She continued, "It would not be strange to me to learn of those who have such a close communication with runners that even if it is not Impression, it gives some idea. "

Tragen gave her an old fashioned look.

"Did you know?" he asked bluntly. She shook her head.

"It was a fair guess. You were unhappy about that race and I figured you were puzzled because you were getting the wrong feel of thoughts. But I suspect you can only communicate properly when you are touching a runner?" she asked. He nodded.

"And only if I concentrate hard." He affirmed. "I can also get clues if a beast is ill, what is wrong."

T'lana grinned.

"It helps then to further my quest."

He laughed, a touch of irony in it.

"Yes, I should have asked what it was you wanted, weyrwoman!" he said. "Will you tell me over klah?"

"I'd be delighted. I've been meaning to come out and ask after Darkspeed anyway, so I'm not just after something!"

"Weyrwoman, I owe you a favour for your – logicating, Lord Bargen called it. I'm more than happy to do you any favour."

T'lana laughed.

"Hear what it is before you promise that!" she teased.

Seated in the warm with a steaming mug of excellent klah she formulated her thoughts.

"I think it important that there should be more contact between weyr and hold, to avoid the sort of misunderstandings that all too frequently arise. I'd like to see extended visits from youngsters both ways. This all arose because my man's milk brother is weyrbred from Benden, a Bronze Rider." She explained. "He's one of these men who women go for; he never has to go searching to get someone to warm his furs. It's a measure of his good character that he's remained nice despite it."

Tragen nodded.

"There are always men like that." He agreed. "Most of them are big 'I-Am's', but the occasional one occurs with a sweet disposition than women like to mother. Nine out of ten women fall for them whichever of the two types they are, and the tenth slaps his face."

"Well she didn't quite do THAT" said T'lana "but she told him off for his easy manner with women and his excessive compliments. She pointed out that those who didn't know better would take a compliment as an order to his bed. She told him to get his act together and go see it like it really is, where people feel pressured from above. To get in touch with those he's supposed to be protecting."

"Forthright girl." Commented Tragen.

"Yes, but usually she isn't. and he took it to heart. I think they've both got a serious case – but it could be good for M'gol and the weyr too to follow it up even if he does cause problems.." She effected a mock groan. "and I've found a steady craftbred rider to go with him; but I need a good master who'll be tolerant of the deficiencies in two itinerant workers with relatively little idea. Z'kan is a competent smith, if your own smith would not take offence at having an outsider do his work during the High Reaches Gather. I thought there'd be nothing like it to show a good selection of people, bad masters and good, and the general apathy that makes up the majority of all walks of life, the sort of apathy you don't get in any working weyr because we can't afford it. We are a fighting machine from the weyrleader to the youngest drudge, and all he knows is that camaraderie."

Tragen nodded.

"My smith is getting on in years." He said. "He'd be quite glad of an excuse not to make the trip this time.. And besides" he added "If your man travels with us to the big Hold he'll learn a lot about just general details about how hard life can be for some – the sort of details they'd never even consider repeating in front of dragonfolk, however caring they may seem. Or indeed, any figures of authority."

"Yet your people seem relaxed – no, that's not the right word. On their toes, but comfortable. I imagine they talk to you about problems."

He smiled thinly.

"Partly because they know I bawl them out more for keeping me under shutters. They know that although I'm not a soft touch, I do care; and my discipline is taut. Most folk like to know where they are. Too much laxity is as bad as tyranny, because it allows the bullies to exert their influence."

She nodded thoughtfully.

"I knew I had picked wisely." She declared. "You can tell it from the way your runners react. They're very sensitive to atmosphere. Not that I've yet given you a chance to refuse!"

"Refuse? I think it's an excellent idea. Mind, I'll not accept any slacking from your pair of precious rascals!" he warned.

"They do know how to work. There's more to riding a dragon than swanning around looking handsome, you know. And fighting Thread is just a part of it." She told him.

"No offence, I hope?"

"None at all taken. You need to know that they are capable of heavy work, not effete prettyboys. Do I take it that you agree?"

"Wholeheartedly, weyrwoman." He asseverated. "On one condition."

She tilted her head queryingly and he suggested,

"Send several riders who are in the know to the Gather to keep a discrete eye out for your men – and for trouble."

T'lana nodded; it was a good suggestion!

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