Namul, the wherhandler, took Charel down to the watchwher enclosure. Keslo decided to tag along, freeing Reelon to stay and chat up the nightwatch about the condition on the road up to the Weyr and other problems.
Charel was giddy with the prospect, but properly respectful when Namul told her to wait outside the enclosure, as he made chirping noises. There was a rustling sound, then a pair of lantern eyes looked out at them. Charel's breath caught as a second pair of eyes opened and both a blue and green watchwher emerged from the stone shack. The green chirped back at him and gamboled over to him, headbutting him playfully.
"Charrie, Keslo, it's safe for you to enter." Namul called, rubbing the green behind the eyeridge.
"Hello Telgarsk." Keslo said, and chirped. The green blinked, then the blue replied with a quizzical chirp.
"No, no, my lovely lady is Namusk. Telgarsk looks to my mate." He pointed to a woman dressed in watch leathers carrying a lidded bucket, walking towards them. He whistled, and she waved back, hastening her step.
"Welmet, I'm Fulsa." She said by way of greeting, before her mate enveloped her in a large hug. "Mmm, hello pet," she murmured, hugging him in return as Telgarsk opened and closed his wings impatiently.
"I haven't forgotten about you, Telly," she told the watchwher, and opened the bucket. Both watchwhers leaned forward eagerly. Fulsa pulled out a long eel and tossed it to Namusk, who caught it midair and slurped in down like an overly long noodle. The blue demanded to be handfed, and daintily took the eel from Fulsa, provoking much teasing from Namul about pampering her watchwher.
"No more than you pamper yours when she has eggs." Fulsa retorted good naturedly, rubbing her blue under the jaw. Telgarsk hummed with pleasure, his eyes glowing blue. Neither beast wore a collar or chains.
"Eggs? The wherqueen allows you to breed?" Keslo looked surprised. Namul nodded as the smaller of Pern's moons peered over the horizon.
"There's always demand for the smaller colors, particularly with all the new mining going on. The wherqueen gave Keroon and us dispensation to breed." He rubbed Namusk's neck when she headbutted him again. "Not that my darling produces many eggs, only four or five every other Turn." He smiled apologetically at the green who merely burbled in pleasure.
Both watchwhers suddenly turned their heads in the direction of the main hold, their eyes whirling faster and the color rapidly changing to yellow shot with red.
"What is it?" Charel asked as everyone tried to see what caught the watchwhers' attention. Telgarsk, with a speed that surprised Charel dashed up to the wall of the enclosure, hissing as Namusk positioned herself between the humans and the wall the blue was peering over intently.
"That's strange," Fulsa blinked and looked over at her mate. "Did Namusk recognize him?"
"No, so it's not one of the regulars." Namul said as the watchwhers relaxed and returned to their humans.
"We have a ...cadre of miscreants-"
"-overly exuberant youths-" Namul interjected with a nervous look over his shoulder.
"-including the Lord Holder's son," Fulsa continued, nonplussed, "that like to 'test' our watchwhers."
"Have you told the Lord Holder?" Keslo asked, surprised and mildly worried.
"Oh yes, but, short of catching they in the act, he tends to overlook them as acts of youthful indiscretion." Namul explained.
"Until someone gets hurt," Fulsa grumbled. "Then it'll be the watch's fault."
"Are you both nightwatch?" Charel asked. Namul shook his head.
"No, Namusk and myself are, but Fulsa and Telgarsk act as watch liaisons and personal guards to the Lady Holder."
"When she's out and about," Fulsa added, walking over to the stone shack and retrieving an odd harness from inside. "Which she's not, tonight, so we're going out for a little exercise. Would you like to help me get Telly into his harness?"
"May I?" Charel asked, keenly interested in seeing how the harness went together.
Telgarsk tilted his head to one side, his lantern eyes studying her as she cinched up the leather straps under Fulsa's direction. Finished, she took a step back only to have him take a step forward making a snuffling noise as he touched his snout to her forehead.
Keslo made a move as if to protest, only to stop when Namul caught his wrist and very slightly shook his head. A look passed between the two men, and Keslo forced himself to relax.
"You're tickling me, Telgarsk." Charel said, gently pushing the blue away the same way she might an overly curious runner. The blue snorted and glanced at Fulsa who was grinning broadly.
Charel looked at the kitted out watchwher, puzzled.
"This is no saddle or riding gear like I've ever seen." She finally admitted.
"That's because it's not." Fulsa make click-whistle to which Telgarsk responded by offering his foreleg as a step. Fulsa took the step then swung up onto the blue's neck. The watchwher turned his head and regarded her with a bemused 'fancy meeting you here' expression.
"As you can see, I can ride perfectly fine without the harness, but the harness is essential if I want to do something fancier than riding. Care for a demonstration?"
Fulmar, the captain of the watch, sat with the drovers and shared a skin of local white wine, a little sweeter than the reds Reelon was used to.
"The road is steep, but we've been keepin' it clear of rock fall, so you should have no problems gettin' up to the Weyr." He explained, pointing out on the Hold map of where they were, and where they were going. "Iffin' you set out tomorrow, after Fall, you should make it to the shelter afore sunset." He shifted a little in his seat. "I know it's an inconvenience, but I would recommend you holin' up for the night with the door barred. The Holdless are growing bold, this close to the end of the Pass," he added darkly, tapping the symbol of the Thread shelter.
"Is this a new development?" Reelon asked, vaguely unsettled at the thought of rustlers so close to the Weyr. Fulmar frowned.
"No, attempts on the tithe trains have happened on and off since the Weyr was founded. What has changed is where and the frequency." Fulmar glanced out the slot window towards the mountains. "Near as we can tell, the Holdless have gotten organized, and very likely have a watchwher of their own, since they always seem to know when the Weyr sends out a random sweeprider. Furthermore the attacks only happen at night." He sighed.
"That would be the best time to attack even if they didn't have a wherbeast with them," Reelon said, absently rubbing his scarred arm. "Dragons prefer to sleep when the sun goes down."
"So do cattle." Old Larst grunted, looking at the watch captain. "What's your advice then? Only hole up overnight?"
Fulmar took his time answering.
"Do you carry live steel?" He finally asked, putting down his empty cup.
"Sword or field knives?" Old Larst countered, arching an eyebrow, "For all my drovers carry field knives."
"Swords," Fulmar sighed. "I'd feel better iffin' you all carried swords for this last part of your trip."
"Swords? Why ever for?" Branth asked joining the drovers at the table.
"Tithe thieves. Where were you?" Old Larst demanded.
"Privy. Got turned around on my way back," Branth replied, pulling a seat over. Old Larst grunted, and turned back to Fulmar.
"How does your Lord feel about loaning out swords?"
"He's ordered me to offer that, iffin' you hadn't asked. How many do you need?"
"There's eleven of us." Old Larst said, draining his own cup.
"Only ten, please. Charrie hasn't been trained in swords." Reelon spoke up. Old Larst glanced at the journeyman, then nodded.
"Best train her up once you get home, Reelon, yer lass has the make of a good drivemaster." He stated, and ignored the startled looks from the other drovers. Fulmar smiled, standing.
"If you will join me in the armory then...?"
The drovers preferred short sabers to the long swords the watch carried, Fulmar noted, as the men picked through the weapons, hefting and testing the swords for weight and balance. Reelon approached him, with a polite cough.
"I know I said Charrie was untrained in swordplay, but do you have a boot knife she could carry?"
"Does she throw?" Fulmar asked, leading him over to a shelf.
"She hits as often as she misses." Reelon offered with a little shrug.
"Here then." Fulmar pulled down a case and opened it to Reelon. Looking through the knives Reelon withdrew the shortest of the throwing blades, Telgar Hold's device stamped into the hilt.
"A bit long for a boot knife," Reelon noted, collecting its sheath from the case, "but it has good balance."
"That's the point. Iffin' the Holdless are watching, I want them to see everyone armed to the teeth."
Reelon nodded, recognizing the wisdom in that. "My thanks. Where would you like my mark?" Fulmar directed him to the armorer's desk and the ledger, where each drover wrote their name and noted the type of weapon borrowed.
Walking back from the armory, the drovers were treated to the sight of the watchwhers flying overhead, dropping and catching something between them. The drovers stopped to watch, and in doing so, Reelon noticed they weren't the only watchers. Several groups of holders gathered at different vantage points as the watchwhers landed and raced each other through a series of parallel poles. The green made it through before the blue and triumphantly carried the pendant hanging from the final pole to Namul, who rewarded her with caresses and another eel.
"Ah she's puttin' them through their paces." Fulmar grunted, joining catching up to the drovers.
"She?" Reelon asked.
"My daughter. Telgarsk looks to her," the watch captain wore a satisfied smile, "looks like she's got your daughter in the act." He added as Charel laid down, and the blue gingerly picked her up, walking the length of the enclosure to gently deposit her at Fulsa's feet. Namusk, not to be outdone, picked up Keslo and carried him, although her gait was closer to a hop and involved a great deal of wing flapping, much to the amusement of the gathered watchers. As Namul kitted his green in a similar harness, Fulsa put Charel on Telgarsk's back and stepped into one of the harness's many foot and handholds, directing Keslo to do the same on the other side. With deceptive ease the blue jogged once around the enclosure, then caused the crowd to gasp and cheer as he leapt into the air, and flew from the enclosure to the main gate and back again. When he landed Keslo promptly let go of the harness and kissed the ground as the crowd roared with laughter.
"I'm goin' to have to have a talk with that girl of mine." Fulmar said, shaking his head. Reelon had long abandoned him, working his way to the front of the crowd in from of the entrance of the enclosure, suffering an attack of concern for his own child.
Charel dismounted with the same careless grace that she would a runner, giving the blue a fond pat on the neck. Turning she saw her father and grinned at him, going to meet him.
"Pa! Did you see us flying?" She asked.
Telgarsk let out a little mournful noise as she left, and Fulsa rubbed him reassuringly behind the eye ridge.
"Yes pup, I did." Reelon replied shakily, doing his best to mask his own anxiety. "You were very brave." He added, ruffling her hair.
"It was fun! And so much better than riding Socks!" She gave him a half apologetic look. "I didn't even know you could ride a watchwher!"
Fulsa chuckled, joining them at that moment. "My lovely flames too, if I have your father's permission to let you feed him firestone."
"Ah..." Reelon gave her a beseeching look as Fulmar edged through the crowd.
"Nonsense. You know full well you're not to firestone down here." He grumbled, frowning at his daughter. "Take your overgrown firelizard to the fireheights, girl, and quit tryin' to corrupt the youths."
"Hah! You only wish I did!" Fulsa sassed back, but was already making the hand gestures to Telgarsk to fly up to the fireheights. With a great snort the blue leapt up into the air and vanished.
"Oh! He went between?" Charel asked, clearly enchanted.
"Oh yes," Fulsa said with a cheeky grin, "Watchwhers are dragonkin after all." She walked with them as the crowd dispersed and the drovers headed to the guest cot. "Will I see you at breakfast?"
"I'd like to, if that's alright, Pa?" Charel looked at her father, who nodded.
"So long as it's only breakfast, and no firestone lessons." Reelon said mock seriously. Fulsa glanced at him for a moment, making sure he was joking, then chuckled, and left them at the base of the fireheight stairs with a wave good night.
So... Happy Mother's Day!
I feel very strongly that the watchwhers are very much under utilized, even by Todd. In the hands of a compentant guardsman (or the daughter of a Hold's watch) a watchwher could easily accomplish as much and more than a trained guard dog. The Hold watch is another highly under utilized aspect of Pernese life neither McCaffery went into at all, but any Hold the size of the major Holds would need some form of quasi-police force. Also, one of these days I'm going to write a fic about Ista Hold's watch. It'll be a Pernese version of CSI/Hawaii 5-0. ;)
As always, please point out any and all mistake I make so I can fix them~