CHAPTER 4
The Weyr resounded to the creelings of hungry firelizards. T'bor decreed, with R'cal's approval, that the eggs unassigned to smallholders and cotholders should be distributed within the Weyr as messengers and helpers, especially to the women of the lower caverns. Mealtimes became a trifle erratic for several days as the firelizards' needs were seen to before human cravings; and for a short while the Weyrwomen took over the running of the kitchen. This was a mixed blessing; food did arrive more or less on time: and T'lana and Z'linda had had experience of cooking for their families before Impression. However, the general consensus was that it was all to the good when Keerana's little blue lizard was less demanding and she and Lalora resumed control. Of course there were still the occasional 'interesting' meals – the little lizards soon learned to up-end spice pots and add spices not necessarily intended by the cooks – but the training of the little creatures was soon well under way.
oOoOo
Sagarra sent word to Camnath that her blue and brown were dear and wonderful, and thanked him gravely for fetching them for her. She and Amrys were busy, not only with their own lizards, but on demand from such of Rillys's people that she had seen fit to reward with eggs. Amrys had let out that they had helped with other firelizards and even dragonets; so Sagarra sighed and dispensed advice, oil and once purgative to a tail-thickened green. Her own lizards she named Puddle and Sky, the one for his delight in water, the other his clear, pale blue colouring. Amrys, with a blue and a green, named them Sapphire and Emerald quickly shortened to Saph and Em. Rillys Impressed a bronze; and she called him Star for the glory of his eyes.
oOoOo
T'lana was glad that Merry had hatched several weeks before any of the new firelizards. The little queen was well grown and less ravenously hungry, though still as vocal. Mirrith adored her, and was often to be seen with the miniature version of herself riding either on her head or her tail, the tiny queen's tail wrapped around the narrowest part of Mirrith's own caudal extremity. T'lana gave time to help Telfer with his lizard; and help him come to terms with the strange viewpoints he got through his surrogate eyes.
The children were on the whole fostered collectively while they formed attachments; the albino child Silisse, a happy and loving babe, received a lot of fuss and attention, for she was as pretty as she was good, despite her strange looks. Irrana, the deaf girl, was however the first to be singled out. Lalora, herself a shy young woman through growing up in the shadow of her mother, Kylara, and knowing the drum measures herself, applied herself to helping Irrana to communicate. Telfer soon became attached to H'llon: not merely because of H'llon's firelizards, but because the boy had a feel for wood. H'llon set him to finishing work, where touch was more important than sight; and with the help of brown Softy – his disposition matching the softness of his skin – the boy was able to progress further.
Daire had apologised to L'rilly for his clumsiness over Shirallen; and she accepted his regrets warily. She mistrusted the easy-spoken, casual looking man and was rather abrupt with him. Daire nodded and limped off; but the light of battle was in his eye.
oOoOo
T'lana organised relays of riders to take the new children and also the weyr children to Lord Bargen's late Winter Fair. Pilgra's little fosterlings refused point blank; they still weren't ready to face the world and risk coming face to face with the women who had callously given them up. T'lana told Pilgra to go and have fun for once, while she looked after them and the other children who were for some reason remaining. She pointed out that Segrith could fly straight without worrying about the eggs within her body. Pilgra took Lanelly and Marag; and T'lana organised with R'gar's help a little Winter fair of her own for the remaining children and weyrlings with dragonets. Little ones were contained in the circle of Mirrith's tail, on wicker mats to lift them off the snow, and so bundled in furs that only noses were visible! Shirallen had agreed to help; but at the sight of the weyrlings and young dragons he had fled inside again. T'lana had had to reach out her mind to him to calm him down. Later, when she had bedded down tired children for the afternoon nap she went to him; and he laid his head in her lap and sobbed like a child.
"I can't bear it." He said. "I can't bear seeing other people with dragons when Tath isn't here any more." T'lana stroked his hair silently; there was nothing she could think of to say. There was nothing to say. After a while he said, "Part of me wants to leave the weyr – but I don't know where I'd go. I've no trade to fall back on and all my family are here."
T'lana thought quickly.
"I'd wait till the end of winter" she said "but if you really want to see if it's better out of the Weyr, my foster father can always use a hand. He's a cotholder who breeds runnerbeasts. He's a good man, he'd treat you like a son. It's not much, but you'd be working hard enough not to think."
He squeezed her hand gratefully.
"I'll certainly think about it."
oOoOo
Segrith returned from the fair in a slightly snippy mood; and overnight laid fourteen eggs. She was apologetic about the number; but Pilgra hugged her and pointed out that the Weyr had a good complement of dragons, over 300, and there was Daenilth yet to rise for the first time. Segrith was a little mollified; but arranged one egg off to the side and at the back, half regretfully. It was no smaller than the others, but the texture was coarser and the patterns less pronounced. Pilgra shrugged. Sometimes eggs did not hatch, and no one knew why. It was a fact of life. Segrith was an Oldtimer Queen, albeit in her prime, and had already laid one sport. If Mirrith could really be thought of any more as a sport. Segrith was, Pilgra told her, a very clever girl to lay eggs at all which she, Pilgra, couldn't. Segrith allowed herself to be wheedled, though she did remark waspishly that there had better not be any holes in the roof this time. Dragon memories might be short, but that had made a deep impact on the Golden dragon!
oOoOo
The usual betting on the colours of the dragonets took place; and Daire looked puzzled as he listened to the good-natured banter around the subject. He stole quietly away; and later asked H'llon who caught him stealing out of the hatching cavern.
"Why are the dragonmen betting on the colours of the dragonets?"
"Oh, dragonmen bet on anything." H'llon told him, pulling a sour face. "K'len even opened a book on how long it would take me to get laid when I first arrived here!" he made an irritated noise remembering his anger and embarrassment when he had found out.
"Hmm." Mused Daire. "So – that means that most people can't see the colours shining through the shells, huh?"
"Are you telling me you can?"
"Only if you can keep quiet about it, woodman." Said Daire. "I noticed that I could tell the firelizard colours – and I've just been in there and I'm positive it works with dragon eggs too. Though it's a little harder." He grinned impishly. "It'll take the two of us – but we could clean up on a dead cert if you're game to avenge yourself on their betting on your libido."
"I do believe," said H'llon slowly "I'll take you up on that. Though I'm not a betting man generally." He was still a little sore at K'len for his intrusion even though he had since realised that most dragonriders were incorrigible gamblers.
"Okay" said Daire. "There's only one Bronze – and that seems to be where at least half the money lies. I gather Segrith has a high Bronze ratio, so you should do well there if you go for that. You can also say that there's more Browns than Blues – which there is if you count the strange egg."
"Strange egg?" Asked H'llon.
"Yeah, it's something there is about it. Dunno exactly." Daire was cagey; and H'llon wondered if he knew more than he was telling. Daire shrugged casually and went on. "There's eight Greens" he said "And that's where I'll clean up – on numbering the other colours. Eight Greens, two Blues, three Browns. Can't miss, huh?"
"If you're right." Said H'llon, prudently. "But fardles – I can tell when Thread's coming, or heavy weather. T'lan talks to all dragons. I guess it's all part of the same kind of thing." He shook hands on the bargain with Daire; and went to lay his bet with half his store of marks.
oOoOo
"Only one?" Enquired K'len. "You sure you want to stick by that? Segrith always lays good proportion. Excepting the time I Impressed when there was only T'sellan's Corvath."
"One" said H'llon firmly, hoping that the bearded man was right.
"You want to lay odds on who Impresses?" Asked K'len. H'llon shook his head.
"Not likely. There might be more candidates in – and what I've seen of this bunch I don't fancy any of them as Bronze riders." He said. "Poor showing this time. The best men among them are the girls." K'len laughed at this sally; and Daire's soft voice spoke up behind him.
"Ah, and its laying odds on a high number of greens I'll be doin' if you please, K'len" he said. "Eight, I'm guessing, above the statistical norm, and I'll have a few marks on equal boy-girl Impression of them too."
"You shall have it." Grinned K'len. "Say, what's this 'statistical norm' crap – you been working with our T'lan?"
"Sure, the girl's a clever one. Almost as clever as yon one is pretty." He said, waving a lazy hand at L'rilly. L'rilly stared down her nose at him; and Zammo and Bubbles hissed at him, eyes starting to whirl. Daire laughed softly; and L'rilly stalked off.
"I love 'em angry." He said, just loud enough for her to overhear. "Just look at that gorgeous, furious little arse."
L'rilly swung and Daire received the contents of a mug of klah full in the face. She strode out as he spluttered.
"And she can even throw straight" he murmured admiringly to himself.
oOoOo
There was a large number of female candidates as the word had filtered out that High Reaches Weyr was offering Green eggs to girls; and plenty had volunteered to avoid the drudgery of marriage, childbearing and early death. Not all were Impression material; but those who were not would be likely to find a niche for themselves. T'bor had no objections to having willing new blood in the Weyr; as many weyrfolk had a tendency to travel frequently dragonback, most women had few babies and became rapidly sterile. Inbreeding was a real problem. It had been one of the reasons F'lar had Searched widely instead of keeping to the Weyrbred candidates at Benden. Extra women of childbearing age were always good to have; and whilst they did not want to be brood mares as in the Holds, most would have one or two children and add to the next generation.
T'lana had become de facto weyrlingmistress for the young women; and she included the disfigured Sharanis with the candidates. If she Impressed, she'd never have to worry again about someone to love her. She would have liked to have tried Telfer, who certainly had no fear of Melth; but his blindness would have been a liability. If his sight returned, even partially, with firelizard enhancement it would be time to consider it another time.
At just fifteen turns, Sharanis was the youngest of the female candidates, traditionally older than the boys. She quickly found a friend in a seaholdbred girl, Mirian, who was quietly hardworking.
"It's a hard life being a sailor's wife." She explained. "The men can be gone for days at a time; and there are so many danger." A shadow of sadness passed over her face. "I lost my father, my brother and my husband all on the same trip."
Sharanis pressed her hand in sympathy.
"So you came to the Weyr?"
"They came on Search. They said I was suitable; I had nothing there. My mother's long dead, and my daughter's portable luggage." She pointed to the toddling child playing with Rogan and Rofel. "Even if I don't Impress, I can help the women; and she'll have a better life than being a fishing man's wife and widow."
The unpleasant Bellova was still at the Weyr, refusing to be presented to any but a Gold egg; and the other girls were amused that T'lana kept her performing the duties assigned to candidates.
"If you want to wait on a Gold egg, you can act like a weyrmember while you do it." The young Queenrider told her uncompromisingly. "You have two choices – you can shut up and put up – or you can go home. Riverbend's that way. Enjoy the walk." It did not occur to Bellova that if she asked T'bor she could probably have a dragonride home; so she put up, but continued to grumble. She did not dare shirk her duties when T'lana was watching, but she did plot quietly. One night she slipped up to the drumheights and promised to man them while the young harper on duty got himself warm; and took advantage of his absence to send a message to her father that she was being ill treated at the Weyr. T'bor, awakened by the message, awaited an angry parent while Pilgra and T'lana scolded the girl for sending a message without permission. T'lana pointed out that she could have sent such a message legitimately – had she asked. The girl's chagrin was increased when only a drum message was returned to T'bor –
"KEEP UP THE GOOD WORK."
T'lana winced in genuine pity, and pulled a face.
"Tactless man, your father." She remarked. "You'd have thought he'd at least investigate."
Bellova burst into tears of rage and humiliation; and T'lana exchanged a look with Pilgra and gave the girl a hug. Bellova half-heartedly shrugged her away; but T'lana ignored that.
"C'mon Bellova, look about you." She said. "If I was really mistreating you, you'd be in a similar state to Daire's fair of brats when he first brought them in. Or we'd be forcing you to bed with any rider that fancied it. Or beating you till the bone showed for disobeying. I've seen it happen, and worse. That's ill treatment. What's the worst thing I've ever done to you – thrown you in the midden for refusing to muck out those fardling dragonets after you'd cheeked R'gar. You're not truly frightened of me are you? I mean so your belly clenches, and you need the necessary when you see me?" Bellova shook her head. T'lana continued, "That's what you feel when someone's bullying you. And know, Bellova, if anyone made you feel that way, I'd have their guts for garters. I mean, I'd be really angry. You've never seen me angry: but I'd not allow that to happen to one of our people. I know about it. I'm glad I'd not made you feel that way, for it's what I most despise. And girl! If you were home you'd have to get married. You'd be property and pregnant every year; and no guarantee that your husband would treat you right. Ask A'ira, who reckons her husband was pretty good. He sometimes showed pleasure in her presence and only hit her when he was drunk."
Bellova remained stiff, but she said nothing. T'lana's words had a point. She knew that no husband would put up with any tantrums. She also knew in her heart that T'lana had been patient in her dealings with her, and believed her when she said that she would defend her from real bullying. Pride however kept her silent, and she merely nodded acknowledgement and took herself to bed. T'lana smiled in satisfaction. She knew that at last her words had reached the stubborn girl, who was not perhaps as utterly spoiled as she appeared. Even if at the moment there was a high degree of enlightened self-interest in her acceptance of discipline.
oOoOo
With the exception of the girls who had asked to come, T'bor decided not to send out a Search for Segrith's rather small clutch. There were still candidates from Tamalenth's clutching who were not unreasonable choices; and one or two weyrbred boys had passed the age threshold.
"And of course" he said to Pilgra "It's been known for younger lads to Impress. F'lon put F'nor to the hatching grounds at only ten turns. Good job too – it was years before Nemorth rose again." Pilgra nodded. T'bor kept an eye on her waistline; and having heard tales of Jora she could see why.
"So long as they have enough choice." She said. He grunted.
"Not much problem of that this time". He said, then added, "Sorry. Didn't mean to be tactless." Pilgra shrugged.
"She's laid a good few clutches of reasonable sizes to bring us up to strength. I'm inclined to take it as an indication that Daenilth will be fertile. Spreading the clutching around."
T'bor nodded.
"You're probably right." He grinned. "It's an irritating habit you have."
oOoOo
If irritating habits were in question, L'rilly considered that the man Daire had them in abundance. To be sure he had an attractive smile with nice teeth; and the face hair was so different it was quite – interesting; but he wasn't a rider and was unlikely to be; and he had a disconcerting habit of saying things that made her blush. It was, she thought, more his way of looking at her than what he said; and she frequently itched to slap him. Especially when he implied that anger made her more beautiful.
"Go jerk yourself off!" She snapped crudely when he followed her back to her weyr one evening. "I'm not interested in you, you're a rogue and a rascal."
"Rogue and Rascal – fancy that, it sounds like a pair of good stallions to my mind." He grinned. "What do you think?"
"I think I'm going to slap you in a minute." She said.
"Oh now, don't do that. It'd be a shame to have to spank that pretty butt of yours in retaliation." He said. She glowered at him.
"I only like riders." She said loftily.
"DO you now!" He grinned again, lazily, his eyes half lidded, making her comment a lewd suggestion.
"Dragonriders!" She emphasised. "Bronze riders at that, whose dragons can please Tamalenth."
"Ah now, that's a shame." He seemed crestfallen. "For it's just over twenty turns I am, and they'll not be taking me for a candidate unless I was going for a Queen; and me gender's against me there."
"Fool!" She said, trying not to laugh despite herself at his tragi-comic face.
"Seems like" he admitted cheerfully. "But sure, I'm mostly a happy fool, which is more than many can say."
L'rilly sniffed and turned her back on him.
"You don't think it's worth me shaving me beard off, cutting down the other leg and wearing me pants too tight so they'll think I'm thirteen?" He said to her back. She stiffened.
"You're impossible!" She flung back over her shoulder, and marched up the steps to her weyr. He watched her in.
"Sure, and you're not far off it yourself." He murmured. "They say the best things in life are never easy." And he limped into H'llon's workshop to see what the young woodcrafter was making. H'llon waved a preoccupied hand to his bench in welcome; and Daire sat down.
"Could you carve something for me when I have the marks to pay for it after the hatching? He asked. H'llon looked up.
"I should think so. What?"
"I'm wanting a dragon, an ornament. A wood as close to bronze as possible – or stained to the right colour. I want him to look….feisty." he said thoughtfully.
"Sure, no problem. As soon as I've finished the mending work. It is my main job after all."
"No hurry." Daire watched the sure handed way H'llon worked for a while; then left, satisfied.
oOoOO
The humming had everyone streaming into the hatching caverns. Hatching began, perhaps inauspiciously, with a Green, who bawled her way into Mirian's arms. It was not long before Sharanis joined her seabred friend in the joyous contemplation of a rainbow regard; and both were greeted formally by T'lana saying,
"Well done M'rian and Sh'ranis."
Then the Bronze hatched.
Impatiently he butted the waiting boys and, walking across one, laid open the lad's thigh as the little creature bawled for his partner.
"No!" Cried Daire in lively horror. "You can't possibly – you silly little clunch, I'm not a fardling candidate!"
"Where are you?" he heard the wistful call. "I am Esruth, and I need you!"
Daire limped down to collapse in his haste beside the dragonet.
"You're crazy." He said, reaching instinctively for Esruth's eyebrow ridges.
"I'm hungry."
"Jays!" Exclaimed Daire, dazed, gazing adoringly at the little Bronze dragon, mottled like autumn leaves. "Sure and that complicates things – and it doesn't, so to speak."
Esruth complained that it wasn't complicated at all. He was hungry; and dear D're would feed him. D're blinked, and embraced the dragonet. Discarding his crutch as unwieldy he leaned on Esruth to get up, and rider and dragonet emerged from the cavern into the cold bowl, propping each other up.
"It's crazy" he said to R'gar "I'm too old."
"HE doesn't think so." Said R'gar, indicating Esruth. "And that, D're, is what counts."
L'rilly stared in horrified fascination, recalling the conversation of a few nights before. Had he known? No, he was totally dazed by Impressing. But if he had been impossible before he'd be doubly so now – as soon as his dragonet gave him time!
All the eggs had hatched except the last, which shook feebly. One of the candidates, a lad who had already been to three hatchings, ran forward.
"If Jaxom and T'mon can do it, so can i." He said grimly, smashing at the shell before he could be stopped. "I MUST Impress, my parents expect it!" He cracked the shell open, then stepped back in horror and fell over backwards. "NO! NO!" he cried, covering his eyes and scuttling away.
Out of the shell fell a damp brown dragonet – of sorts. It creeled with hunger and a need for affection: but it's wings were a travesty of a dragon's wing, stunted and twisted. Those left on the hatching ground gasped with horror.
"Oh no, poor little thing!" Sobbed T'lana. "What can we do? Someone must Impress him!" The remaining candidates were sure it would not be them. With quick glances at each other, they left as one accord, quicker than ever disappointed candidates had before.
"How DARE they!"
A voice rang out at the cavern entrance. Shirallen stood there, fury on his face. "And they dared aspire to be dragonmen!" his scorn pursued the fleeing boys as he strode forward to lift the creeling brown dragonet's chin.
"I know what it is to be incomplete." He said softly. "It's all right, Warneth, I will take care of you."
"But – you can't re-Impress!" gasped Pilgra.
"I guess no-one thought to tell Warneth that." Said T'lan dryly. "I daresay it's because the circumstances are so strange."
"Yes" said Pilgra. "I'm glad we hadn't many guests this time. Five girls Impressing, a man past Impressionable age and – Warneth. Poor creature, what's going to happen to him?"
"Well" said T'lana, ever practical, "He can chew firestone and flame with the ground crews; and he'll be able to send messages; and he's saved our Sh'len. For the last alone he justifies his existence – if any dragonkind needs to."
"Don't be so fardling touchy." Snapped Pilgra. "Anyone would think it was your clutch."
"I've a soft spot for Segrith" admitted T'lana. "And I'm rather used to snide comments about being different, remember?" T'lana was tart; and Pilgra embraced her.
"We'll muddle through." She said philosophically."
oOoOo
"It could only" groaned T'bor "Happen at High Reaches."
As their sated dragonets slept, Sh'len and D're found themselves together, separated from either the girls and the much younger boys; and they made their way to the communal eating cavern in the companionable silence of two people who know the world will disapprove of them. They entered to the words,
"….Ridiculous, a dragon that can't fly!"
T'lan, T'ral and H'llon were instantly on their feet; but L'rilly beat them to it. The speaker's chin cracked back under a very nice left hook. L'rilly stared at her own fist for a moment; then let out a groan of pain. D're limped to her side, brushing T'lana aside.
"That was a lovely blow, so it was." He murmured. "And well deserved. Come now, let's be showing that to Calla for a bit of attention." She glanced at him suspiciously; but went with him. Sh'len was called to by several voices. He raised his hands; and there was silence.
"You call me Sh'len again" he said "And I thank you that you accept Warneth a dragon enough to contract me. But Sh'len was – was Tath's rider." He swallowed. "If you feel I can be contracted, I shall be Sh'allen; Warneth will not be flying, so a short contraction is not necessary."
He was given an ovation; and his brother led him to a seat.