Disclaimer: Pern and the dragons of Pern belong to Anne McCaffrey.
AN: Thanks as always to all those special people who bothered to let me know what they thought; it means a lot to me, everyone, it really does. And kudos to Amere for spotting an old friend (particularly since he hasn't even put in an appearance so far!). Anyone see any others yet?
They were just playing the introduction to the Lemos Gather Dance as Kat got close to the dance square, and she picked up her skirts and broke into a run to get there before the dance proper started, still a little jittery with the strain of creeping out through the silent and empty corridors of the Hold.
She hoped that she could get a partner; she hoped even more that she was early enough for this to be the first Gather Dance. The tune was old, maybe hundreds of turns old, and it'd be played endlessly through the Gather as it had every year since it was written. The steps of the dance were both intricate and difficult, and every young person of Lemos would be desperate to prove that they could manage it flawlessly. The first Lemos Gather Dance was the most special of all, and Kat had only ever been able to dance in it once. Usually she was still standing behind her father, bored stiff and listening to the distant music when the first dance was played, but once Arrin had swiped her from under her father's nose and taken her out onto the floor; the last year before he left. Galen had spoken to him afterwards about that, at his most quiet and deadly; not so much because he'd danced with Kat but because the Gather Dance involved a series of partner switches around the circle, and who knew who Kat had been passed on to at the end of the first repeat? It could have been the poorest holder. It could even have been a drudge. How shocking for Lord Galen's daughter!
Kat pushed aside the bitter thoughts as she arrived at the edge of the dance square, slightly out of breath and looked around for a partner. There must be someone, surely? A lot of couples were already out in the centre of the floor, and the Harpers, looking hot and tired already, sweat patches beginning to form on their pristine blue tunics, were nearing the end of the introduction.
'Want to dance?' offered someone, beside her.
Katriel turned, relieved. 'Yes!'
It was a boy a little older than herself, she saw - perhaps he was a trader, since he was dressed in heavy, rough clothing. It was strangely fashioned out of a thick, leathery material. Kat frowned internally, but easily kept the expression off her face. She wasn't very impressed that the boy hadn't chosen to wear finery for the occasion. That, and a slight hint of an accent to his voice made her say, 'Wait… you're not from around here, are you?'
'No. Why?'
'Do you know the steps? The Lemos Gather Dance is hard…'
'I can learn, can't I?' he asked. He sounded a little offended. Kat bit her lip. She didn't want an unskilled partner, not for the first Gather Dance; but there wasn't going to be time to explain and find someone else…
As the first chords played she grabbed his hand. 'Come on then!'
Actually, he was probably quite a decent dancer, since he wasn't nearly as bad as some. He missed a lot of the steps, of course, but he only trod on Kat's feet twice, and he managed quite creditably the simpler series of turns. When it came to the handover, though, with its fast cross-steps, he fell apart completely. Kat dodged out of the way of his blundering movements, laughed at the expression of surprise on his face as the next girl around the circle came spinning right into his arms, and found her own next partner. He was good, and she felt herself rising to the challenge; she knew she was moving faster and more lightly, letting her body respond to the touch of her new partner's guiding hand and making each step neat and precise, whirling away into the rhythm and melody of the dance.
By the time she'd made the complete circuit she was hot, flushed and breathless, but her feet were so used to the rhythm that they swung her through the steps without even thinking about it, and she felt that she couldn't make a mistake. She was delighted and thankful to find that her original partner caught her firmly as she was propelled into his arms; he was good - still a bit clumsy and slow in places, but he'd got most of the dance by that time and she was able to let her feet do the moving and grin at the tense, concentrating look on her partner's face.
She was just about to relax when the Harpers slid into the finishing motif of the dance. Kat followed instinctively into the turn and glide that replaced the handover; but her partner wasn't there to catch her, and her momentum made her stumble, missing a couple of steps as she recovered her balance. Even when she pulled herself back together the boy didn't know the movements for the final bars; Kat gave up in disgust as the Harpers drew out the final chords and all around the circle pairs of dancers bowed and curtsied elegantly.
She was actually feeling quite annoyed, but was still debating what exactly to say when she happened to look at her partner's face; he looked rueful and mortified, rubbing his ear sheepishly. 'You were right. I didn't know the steps.'
Kat hovered for a moment in between irritation and amusement; but then she had to laugh. 'Oh well. I should have been here earlier.'
Recovering some of his confidence, the boy grinned. 'Come on. I'll get you something to drink.' He took her arm and piloted her gently towards a stall where the slightly sour alcoholic fumes were drawing a crowd.
Kat wavered, the caution of long habit advising her not to allow herself to be drawn into conversation or to get to know anyone. But on the other hand, he seemed a nice person, and what harm could it really do? 'Oh - just juice, thanks.'
Her partner chuckled. 'Very restrained. That's no way to behave at a gather! However, I'm glad you said that because I can now keep you company. I'm supposed to be keeping my wits about me.'
Perhaps he meant her to ask why; his way of trying to start a conversation. But Kat had been trained to never asked questions - it was unladylike - and she wasn't very good at conversation either, beyond pointless small talk. Besides, she didn't want to encourage him to ask her anything. 'Indeed,' she said, vaguely. 'Did you arrive this morning?'
'Yes.' He shot her a sidelong glance, and seemed to accept her less personal conversation. 'Beautiful weather.'
Kat was jerked into laughter. 'It's the Lemos Autumn Gather! We always have perfect weather!'
The boy grinned. 'Really? My experience suggests that as soon as you organise something like this it invariably starts raining. But I've not been here before. Here.' He gave the red-faced man behind the stall a quarter mark and waited for him to pour two glasses of fruit juice.
They strolled vaguely onwards through the crowd, sipping the cold, sweet drinks, and he carried on, 'Actually, it's a bit strange I've not been before. I've been to most of the bigger gathers.' He frowned. 'Although, come to think of it - maybe not that strange… This gather's three days long, right, and you have it every year?'
'That's right. It's the Lemos Autumn Gather,' Kat repeated. 'It's famous…'
'Well, probably more so if you happen to live in Lemos,' he pointed out, practically.
Kat frowned and stiffened up with the implied insult to her Hold. 'We have crafters and traders here from all over Pern! It's big enough even for some Holders from Nerat and Ruatha to have made the journey, and that's a hard road. It is famous!'
'Hey, ease up!' The boy laughed. 'I'm sure it is. Uh - you know, I didn't get your name.'
'Palla,' Kat told him, easily. It was a common enough name, unlike Katriel, and she'd decided on it in advance. Courtesy made her add, 'And yours?'
'J'mat.' He grinned at her.
She frowned. 'Jemat?' It didn't sound quite like what he'd said. 'And you're… I mean…' She gestured at his rough clothing. 'You're here with your… master? parents?'
He looked surprised. 'Oh - no - with my Wingleader, actually…'
'Huh?' Kat blinked at him, automatically suppressed her surprise, remembered that she didn't have to now that she was Palla the holder girl not Katriel the Lord's emotionless and reserved daughter, and let her mouth gape open as horrified realisation came crashing in. 'It's J'mat, not Jemat! You're a dragonrider!' She could see his telltale shoulderknots now that she thought to look for them.
'I know I'm a dragonrider,' J'mat said. He sounded puzzled and faintly hurt.
Oh shards, what am I going to do now?! Kat shrieked to herself. Father is going to kill me. He's going to kill me! I've met a dragonrider! I've - hey, I've met a dragonrider. And father doesn't know…
They're the ones that ruined everything! They're the ones that took my mother away!
But still… a dragonrider…
She looked up and found J'mat looking at her expectantly. 'Sorry?'
'I said, are you all right?' he repeated, patiently. 'I don't understand; everyone here seems so shocked and hostile towards us. Why, Palla? I know the Weyr is - is different to a Hold, and some holders are worried by it and some people disapprove, but we're there to protect you. And Lemos; I wasn't aware that there's ever any problem with Lemos. Your ground crews are large, well trained and prompt, I know that.'
Does he really know, or is he repeating something he's heard? Kat thought. He can't be much older than me. How much responsibility can he really have? But he seems… I don't know… more mature. She laughed suddenly. More mature than who? You don't have many people to compare him to, after all!
And he was still waiting for an answer. 'The Lord - Lord Galen - he wouldn't neglect any duty,' she said, after an awkward pause trying to come up with a sufficiently neutral answer. 'He's very - determined - about doing the proper things.'
J'mat frowned. 'Just as a matter of form, though? You think he doesn't really think he needs dragonriders? But that still wouldn't explain…'
'No - I -' Kat stopped in confusion. What could she say? She could feel herself flushing; she was going to give herself away if she carried on talking about her father. But it wasn't hard to change the subject. 'Your dragon… what type is it?' She could see the answer in the knotted cord on the shoulder of his jacket, but she needed to distract him.
And she'd picked the right thing to say. J'mat's face lit up. 'A brown. His name's Hideth.'
'A brown…' Kat frowned. 'That's quite senior, right? But presumably there are a lot of brownriders who are more experienced than you, so you must be middle ranking.'
J'mat gave her a crooked grin, shaking his head in confusion. 'Holder girl, you're right, but you think about things the strangest way. Hideth's quite young still, but I'll make Wingsecond in just a few years, you'll see. Hideth's really smart and he's got a lot of initiative for a dragon; he's the most promising young brown in Benden!'
Shards, that was close! Kat thought. In her upbringing the first thing to establish with a new acquaintance was where they ranked; but of course most people wouldn't worry about a thing like that. Normal people wouldn't worry about that.
An excited shiver ran up Kat's spine, and she laughed. I'm a normal person! I'm just some girl - I'm just Palla.
'What?' J'mat cocked his head. And he was just a normal person too, for all his dragon. As he boasted about Hideth's prowess all his self-assurance and maturity evaporated, and Kat could see the boy her own age.
'Oh, I don't know. I'm just happy! I love the Autumn Gather.'
J'mat didn't say anything for an instant, staring into the space over her head with an absent look on his face. Then he looked down at her and grinned. 'Come on then!' He grabbed her hand and towed her through the crowd.
'Where are we going?' J'mat's hand was much larger then hers, and Kat could feel the callouses and hard skin across his fingers. Around them the thunderous roar of hundreds of voices was filling her ears, and across that she could hear the skilfully entwined threads of gitar, drum and high, sweet pipe as the Harpers played a set piece. She could pick out the rich, savoury smell of roasted herdbeast, and her stomach growled. She tugged on J'mat's hand. 'Hey, stop a minute! Let's get something to eat.'
It was funny, she thought, as they walked onwards, tearing off strips of the meat with her teeth, how she could have absolutely no appetite when she sat in Lemos' hall and had dishes laid in front of her that were artistry, the epitome of their old cook's prodigious skill, but she enjoyed intensely the faintly charred lump of herd beast that was oozing juice all over her fingers. She giggled again and said, 'So, you didn't actually tell me where we're going.'
J'mat looked sideways at her. 'Want to meet Hideth? He wants to meet you.'
Kat stopped short, staring, and J'mat carried on a few steps before realising and turning back to her. 'What's wrong?'
This is a really bad idea, Kat thought. As if you aren't in enough trouble already, meeting a dragon is going to make it even worse. There won't be huge crowds around there, and people won't be able to assume that J'mat is some trader boy. You'll be seen; you'll be recognised. And even if you aren't, it's just going to get complicated. It's fine to chat and have a good time, but it would be a really bad idea to get any closer to a dragonrider. A really, really bad idea…
'Really?' she breathed.
J'mat laughed. 'Yeah, sure. Come on.'
The dragons were sprawled in a field just outside the Hold, and a ragged line of people were clustered along the fence, watching the huge beasts in awe. A couple of dragonriders were talking to them, and one of the smaller dragons, a glistening emerald beast, had ventured forwards towards them, looking curiously at the holder folk, her eyes whirling. Around her people were backing away from the fence, but her rider had managed to persuade a group of boys aged about eleven or twelve turns to come closer, and the slinky green dragon half-closed her eyes to sniff at them all in turn. Kat could see a puckered white scar drawing a jagged line across the membrane of the green's wing.
J'mat vaulted over the fence and held out a hand to help Kat scramble after him, adding green stains to the greasy marks she'd already managed to get on the skirt of her russet woollen dress. She made a mental note to wear the dress again some time soon - preferably within the next sevenday - so that she had an excuse for needing it washed. But right at the moment she didn't care.
J'mat led her over to the huddle of dragons, and as they approached a mid-sized brown lifted his head and gave a gentle roar, then scrambled to his feet, shaking out his wings and tucking them neatly away against his back before trotting over towards them. His hide was darker than the other brown in the group; a rich hue like newly ploughed earth, like velvet, a colour that Kat wanted to plunge her fingers into.
The next instant she forgot her speculations as Hideth loomed over her and she bit her lip hard not to scream. He was huge; she looked up and up and found only Hideth's broad chest and then his head where the sky should be. Kat could feel her eyes widening and her knees starting to shake as the brown leaned down towards her. His breath smelled of old meat and the sharp acrid odour she recognised from the fire heights, and his teeth; they were as long as her forearm, dull, stained ivory. Kat held her breath, clenching her hands so hard that her nails bit into her palm, and tried to force her legs not to collapse or run away.
J'mat touched her arm. 'It's all right.' He stepped forwards and slapped his dragon's muzzle casually. 'Hallo, you. Get down, will you? You're scaring her.'
Hideth blinked and obligingly lay down, reducing his imposing bulk somewhat; although not nearly enough for Kat's peace of mind. She found herself staring into one of his insectile, multi-faceted eyes; whirling and colourful and definitely intelligent. She could recognise unmistakably the spark inside.
She swallowed hard. 'H - hello,' she ventured.
Hideth's lips rolled back, exposing his teeth, and Kat gasped until she realised that the dragon was grinning, much as a canine might.
'He likes you,' J'mat said. The boy was leaning casually against the huge creature's shoulder, looking pathetically small and fragile, and ridiculously unafraid.
'Uh - that's nice…' Kat said, shakily; then her eyes widened and breath caught again as she looked over Hideth's back. 'Shards!'
'What?' J'mat looked round, following her gaze. 'Oh, hello, Fidranth.'
Leaning over Hideth's other shoulder was another dragon's head; one that gleamed bronze-green, sunlight rippling over his shiny scales like water and dancing reflections scattering in all directions. And if she'd thought Hideth was big, then this new dragon was in a whole new class; Kat judged that his head alone was as big as she was. She made a small frightened noise in the back of her throat.
'Hmm.' The human voice was deeper than J'mat's and unfamiliar to her. 'You know, most browns aren't such good Search dragons, but Hideth might turn out to be the exception. Fidranth likes her.'
'Sir!' J'mat gasped. 'I didn't mean - I didn't think - Palla, this is my Wingleader D'lin and his dragon Fidranth,' he finished in some confusion.
'Palla, is it?' The tall Wingleader looked at her keenly, shaking out longish red-brown hair. 'I'll want to speak to your parents - and to Lord Galen too, I suppose. Unless you're from one of the outlying Holds? Who's your Holder?'
Kat had frozen into absolute stillness. She felt as though her world had fractured; as if moving might cause it to shatter into thousands of glittering and sharp fragments; but that jolted her back into herself. 'No!' she gasped, horrified, and then repeated more loudly, 'No! NO!'
She spun on her heel and fled back as fast as she could to the noise and shelter of the crowd.
