Right, here's chapter two. Taken from Hed'ron's viewpoint once again, our local Candidatemaster realizes that this time he may have bitten off more than he can chew.
As always this is Anne McCaffrey's world, not mine. I get nothing out of this except fot that warm fuzzy feeling when I get a review.
Chapter Two
Search Results
-Roughly half a Turn ago-
The sun shone brightly on the Istan Weyrbowl. The warm wind blew briskly making the oppressively humid day bearable, to a degree. Down in the Weyrbowl amidst the usual daily activity of the Weyr, a figure paced back and forth near the edge of the black pumice wall. Near him a large brown lay drowsing in the warm summer sun, watching his rider pace with a good degree of amusement.
Though his dragon was in high spirits, his rider, CandidateMaster Hed'ron was not. The Searchriders were long overdue by now. They should have been back two days ago with his next class. His frown deepened; surely the pickings weren't that slim. Most Turns people would beg to come to the Weyr and stand, but if the dragons didn't give their blessing, there was little hope for them to impress, and they wouldn't be permitted to attend and stand.
So the wait continued, stopping only for a lunch break and brief nap out of the sun, thanks to Regoth's wing. It was late afternoon when finally the bugling of dragons grabbed Hed'ron's attention. For the first time in the past four days he smiled. However it was not a happy smile, but one of anticipation. Every Candidate class had its own quirks and he loved working with the Candidates, helping them conquer what fears, attitudes, and worries they held inside them.
As he watched the wing of Searchdragons spiral lazily down, Hed'ron squinted, trying to see the people mounted A'dragonback better. Frowning again, he took a moment and addressed his brown mentally, "Regoth, how many Candidates do you see? I see far too many riders with one candidate and two with none at all." Regoth stirred and lifted his head skyward, examining his fellow dragons a moment before replying, "I count twenty-two Mine."
Muttering a curse Hed'ron recounted as the people became visible to him. Twenty-Two was an awful number. Surely there were more, perhaps tying up last minute details before heading to the Weyr. Deep in thought, Hed'ron realized that if no more were found, or on their way, he'd half to send to another Weyr for more Candidates. It would be incredibly embarrassing for the proud CandidateMaster, but Hed'ron would rather beg a hundred candidates before seeing a newly hatched dragonet go Between.
Regoth rumbled in agreement and then bugled his own welcome to the landing wing. Now standing with arms crossed, presenting an imposing picture, Hed'ron watched as riders helped their charges down and gathered them in a group. The Candidates belongings went in a separate pile, to be picked up after Hed'ron gave the group a talking to and went over base rules.
Soon enough, the Wingleader of the Search-Wing made his way over to Hed'ron, looking none too pleased. "Hed'ron, I'll be quite honest. I don't envy your position. This lot we brought in was all the dragons would even think about considering. Between you and me, they're lookin' to be a rough crowd. You have the usual bully or two, but all of 'em are clearly grouped already. You'll have use every trick in the bag to get'em in line for the Hatching."
Hed'ron nodded, "Well, it's a start at the very least. I'll take them from here C'tar. Give them a few sevendays and I'll have them running like a fine tuned Wing." The Wingleader nodded, and turned back to his dragon and Wing. Several moments later the dragons all rose as one, then scattered to their respective Weyrs. The candidates watched all this with mixed emotions Hed'ron noted. Some didn't care, others looked fascinated, and then there were the three in the center of the crowd that appeared to be scared out of their wits.
A few moments more were spent in inspecting the group, and how it had divided itself. Then satisfied with the general notes he had mentally taken, Hed'ron started what he affectionately called "The Walk." It would be the first time the candidates would truly notice him, and they'd better learn fast, that he wouldn't take nonsense and disrespect. Arm held to his sides, Hed'ron paced, rather then walked towards the candidates.
By now, he had their notice and most were staring at him, probably wandering who in Faranth's name he was. Eyes fixed on the group, Hed'ron stopped and crossed his arms. Then in a gruff professional voice he began to speak. "Alright you lot, listen up and do it quick, I've got little patience or time for those who don't. I am CandidateMaster Hed'ron, and for at least the next Six-month your immediate superior. This is Regoth, and his commands carry the same weight mine do. Now-"
Caught in midspeech, a young man interrupted him with the rudeness of a Holdless person. "CandidateMaster, bah. More like old geezer if you ask me. I could whip him any day." He then became aware the Hed'ron's inquisitive face was roughly six inches from his, and flinched. Hed'ron's voice was an interesting one, half filled with polite courtesy, and half dripping with venom, "Candidate, are you challenging your superior? I do believe I asked you to be quiet. On the other hand, if you think you can beat me, then by all means try. Let's get trivial matters done with now so the real work can be done sooner." He waited a moment longer, then getting no answer from the surly boy, turned his back and began to walk away.
It was at this time the boy chose to move, and springing forward, he threw a kick at Hed'ron's back. Unfortunately for him, his foot did indeed hit something. That something happened to be the CandidateMaster's hand, which then proceeded to enclose afore mentioned foot in an iron grip. Having turned around when he heard movement behind him, Hed'ron took the scene in for a moment, then in a seemingly careless movement kicked the boy's other leg out from under him, watching as he fell heavily to the ground.
Then, seeing that the boy was in no way injured, Hed'ron helped him to his feet gazing into the boy's eyes all the while. Shocked that his trickery had failed the boy stuttered for a moment that spat out, "You can't do that! You can't hurt a candidate, that's Illegal. I'll tell, tell the Weyrleader!" That last line was such a smug one that it took all the CandidateMaster's self-control to refrain from doing anything further. "Can't I? I believe I just did. Furthermore who do you think gave me this job? The Weyrleader gave me the power to use whatever necessary method to get my points across. However, if you'd like, we can go talk to him, and see what he says about a rider defending himself…"
Hed'ron let the point hang for a moment, and then when no answer came, as expected, he motioned the boy to return to the group. Once more he began to speak, "Before I continue, is there anyone else who thinks they can best me? No? Very well then, where was I? Oh yes, for today, all that I will be doing is assigning your respective cotrooms and cotroom partners. Once that is finished, we will extensively go over what you are here for, what you will be expected to do while here, and the rules that will and already do encompass you during your stay in the Candidate Barracks. Any questions?"
None came, and giving a little nod of his head Hed'ron spoke once more, "Very well then, grab your possessions and follow me." As a general group, the new candidates drifted over to the pile of belongings, and after a scramble to find his or her own bag a rough semblance of a line formed and Hed'ron led the candidates to their new home. Walking along Hed'ron was thinking fast. It had been a good thing he had been able to block the kick. He wasn't as young as he used to be, and if he lost even a grain of respect from the candidates he might as well kick them all out and resign his position.
This class was something he hadn't encountered in a long time. The only thing holding them in line was the threat of being kicked out and not being able to stand. Even the usual intimidation act he used for about the first fortnight wouldn't work long with this lot. If he was lucky he could stretch that out a sevenday, but any longer and it'd be really stretching it. Frowning Hed'ron continued the walk to the Candidate Barracks, hoping fervently that his day would somehow, inexplicably, improve.
-End Chapter Two-
Note: Right the next chapter will be a while in coming. This week's promising to be a long one and I expect to have little if any writing time. That said, a different viewpoint coming up for next time.
