Extra-long chapter...with some intrigue thrown in at the end! Please review and make my day happy! Please?
Arwen
Vell held her hair up as she surveyed herself in the full-length mirror. Should she pin it up or let it down? She told herself it wasn't vanity, it was just her desperate desire to make a good first impression on the gold-rider who would teach her all there was to know about being a queen's lifemate.
We are going to be late if you do not stop fussing, observed Finneseth from her comfortable position on the bed. She tucked her tail primly over her forelegs, eyes whirling a lovely, contented shade of blue as she watched her rider.
"It's not time to go yet," retorted Vell. She'd fallen into the habit of speaking with her rapidly growing dragon out loud, if they were alone. "And besides, I just…I just want to look good, you know?"
You are beginning to sound like Ariath's rider, replied Finneseth, ruffling her wings with a shimmer.
"Don't you like Marlin?" asked Vell, a frown creasing her brow as she decided that it would be more practical to put her hair up. She worked her dark locks into three thick sections and plaited it quickly, wrapping the long braid about her head in a neat coronet.
Marlin is different than you. You should not try to act like her, Finneseth said, spreading her wings as she uncurled and stretched, sliding down onto the floor in a motion of liquid gold.
"She's my friend. Be nice, please," admonished Vell. She slipped a last pin into her hair and surveyed her work, turning her head this way and that, finally satisfied as she tucked a stray thread of hair behind one ear. Finneseth stretched again, languidly, spreading herself out as if to show her rider how large she had grown over the past few weeks.
A knock sounded on the door of the Queen's Weyr. Vell jumped, startled at the unexpected visitor, and then collected herself carefully, thinking that this could be her first impression, if it was her new instructor. But as she came to the entrance, she saw a flash of green—darker than Ariath, and larger. Finneseth called out a bell-like greeting to her sister. It is Warith, she announced, somewhat unnecessarily, as Vell saw Rija standing a pace back from the entrance.
"Good morning," Vell said cordially to the dark-skinned green-rider, but she was rather confused. She and Rija hadn't necessarily kept up their friendship, if one could call it that, from before the Hatching; it wasn't that they didn't get along, it was just that amongst the speed and furor of weyrling training, anything less than strong camaraderie faded into easy acquaintance.
"Hello," said Rija. Her eyes glanced over Vell's shoulder and warmed with appreciation. "Finneseth looks like she's grown since yesterday."
"I know," replied Vell with a smile. "It seems that way with all the dragons, doesn't it? I see Warith inherited some of Maventh's size."
Rija returned the smile, her voice warming as she spoke of her dragon. "Not all of it. I think she's just going to be one of the larger greens, not strapping big as a brown like Maventh. Anyway," she continued, turning back to Vell, "I don't mean to intrude. I know you've got queen lessons and all this morning."
"I've got some time," Vell assured her amiably.
Now that you are done fussing over your hair, muttered Finneseth. Vell ignored the golden dragon's comment.
"I just wanted to come over and maybe give you a leg up," said Rija. Vell looked at her quizzically. "You see," explained Rija, "the queen-rider from Southern who's giving you lessons is my sister."
"Oh." Vell suddenly remembered the day in their room, before the Hatching, when she had commented on how nice Southern must have been, and Rija had recoiled from the very mention of the name. I suppose it isn't so easy, when your sister is a queen-rider already, she said silently to Finneseth, who merely watched Rija with interest.
"Amhira Impressed Shirath about four Turns ago, when she was sixteen," said Rija. "So she's my older sister by three Turns."
"I see," said Vell warily, waiting for Rija to say something further. Had she come here to give a warning about her unkind sister? Or was it just sibling rivalry, rearing its head?
"She heard I Impressed Warith from someone or other," went on Rija, "but I haven't properly introduced them. Would you mind if I came by at the end of your lesson, just before meal?"
"Of course not," said Vell, a bit shocked at the question. "So," she said carefully, "Amhira and you are…on good terms?"
"Well, now that I've Impressed Warith we are," Rija said bluntly. "I was very jealous of her when she Impressed. I always intended to be a rider, and she was this close—" Rija held up pinched-together fingers—"to going to the Harper Hall to become an apprentice. But my mother convinced her to stand, just once, and she comes away with the queen. I stood for three clutches at Southern before I came here. The last time, I stood for Shirath's clutch. Everyone thought I was a shoo-in, and some people even said that Amhira would try to help me, convince the dragonets to pick me." She pressed her mouth into a thin dark line. "It was really…horrible. I almost didn't stand, because I just…knew it wouldn't work. And it didn't. And then I asked my father to let me come to Benden, and I Impressed Warith." She smiled brilliantly, more happily than Vell had ever seen her smile before. Then she gave a little shrug. "Amhira's nice. We don't get along sometimes, but we're sisters, and I'm hoping that now we can be friends."
"Well, thank you for letting me know," said Vell. "And I don't want to be rude, but I really do have to go now. I'll tell Ahmira that you'll be stopping by."
"Wait," said Rija as Vell passed her. "Could I…could I make it a surprise?"
Vell grinned. "Doesn't matter to me. Just as long as she won't make me fly extra drills or anything for letting her younger sister into her hair again." And with that, she and Finneseth set off toward the designated meeting spot, eager to meet their new instructor.
When she made it over the hill, Vell was dazzled by the light striking the hide of the largest queen she'd ever seen. Finneseth took off lightly from beside her, the air from her wings smoothing back Vell's hair. The young queen turned a couple loops casually as she winged her way toward the other queen.
Hello. I am Finneseth, Vell heard her dragon say capriciously, and she felt the edges of the older dragon's reply, enough to catch the name. Shirath. She lengthened her strides, not wanting Finneseth to reach the pair of instructors far ahead of her—she wanted the warmth of her golden lifemate against her when she addressed these strangers for the first time. But Finneseth remained aloft, turning more tricks above their heads. Shirath watched impassively, her hide a glowing deep gold—almost bronze—flecked with dark spots across her back and the ridge of her nose. A small brown woman stood next to her. Amhira was much shorter than Rija, and her face had a kind of soft beauty to it, in contrast to her younger sister's sharper looks. Vell stopped and stood as tall as she could, pushing her shoulders back like J'ran had taught them. She extended her hand formally. "Vell, rider of gold Finneseth, of Benden," she said, hoping her voice wasn't too high or nervous.
The smaller woman gripped her forearm with surprising strength, her dark eyes studying Vell's face as she replied. "Amhira, rider of gold Shirath, junior queen of Southern Weyr."
"I am very pleased to meet you," said Vell as Amhira released her arm.
A small smile curved the dark woman's lips. "You might not be so pleased in a little while," she said enigmatically, her low voice tinged with…amusement? Vell blinked, puzzled. "You wore comfortable boots, I presume? Good. Now follow me." And with that, Amhira took off down the knoll running. Vell stared after her for a breath, confused; and then with a jolt she scrambled after her instructor, using her long legs to her advantage as she strove to catch up to the quick rider.
"What about Finneseth?" she asked in bewilderment, drawing abreast of Amhira. The older gold-rider merely looked at her, one brow raised, and continued to run. A flash of gold passed overhead, and Vell glanced up to find Finneseth following Shirath in a fashion similar to the foot-race between the two gold-riders. The lighter-colored, younger queen strained to keep up with Shirath; it was apparent the full-grown dragon was merely flying leisurely, her large wings still as she coasted most of the time. Still watching the two dragons, Vell felt her foot catch on a rock and she hit the ground hard, tumbling, her elbows slapping the dirt and her knees stinging from the impact. She was still shaking the stars out of her eyes when two worn boots came into her line of sight.
"Separate yourself from her," came Amhira's voice, now authoritative. "You can't let your dragon be a distraction when you need to concentrate. Now, are you going to lie there all day? We have a run to finish." A small, weathered hand appeared in front of her face; and, ears burning, Vell took her instructor's hand and pushed herself up. Before she could brush the dirt from her knees they were off again, running through the tall grasses.
They made one full circuit around the Weyrbowl, and then made it back to their original starting place. Vell felt her legs shaking and runnels of sweat sliding down her back. Strands of hair that had escaped her braid stuck to her forehead and cheeks wetly, and her whole tunic was damp. She tried to catch her breath, throat burning.
"That was only a short training run," said Amhira, sweat glistening on her own brow, voice even and breathing steady. "If you can't keep up, I expect you to add your own runs, to be done on your free time."
"Excuse me," Vell said, finally able to speak. "I don't mean to be disrespectful, but what does running have to do with being a queen-rider?"
Amhira's dark eyes lit up at the question. "Many riders overlook their total physical fitness," she said. "To be honest, all riders should be doing these runs, and other exercises as well, to strengthen your legs and back and stomach so that when you are in the air, fighting Thread, you're able to keep your seat when your dragons pulls a fast spin or a quick turn." She looked at Vell, another half-smile upon her lips. "Though I'm sure you'll think of it as my own special brand of torture, after a while."
Vell groaned inwardly.
"Now," continued Amhira. She sat down, motioning for Vell to mimic her actions, putting her heels together and drawing them in toward her body. Vell's legs protested. "For the rest of the morning, I'm going to see how much you know."
"How much I know about what?" Vell repeated stupidly, her oxygen-starved brain struggling to keep up with the conversastion.
"Everything," replied Amhira, a glint in her eye, and Vell had to stop herself from bolting in the other direction.
Two hours later, Amhira watched as Vell unbuckled the straps of her riding gear, face smudged with dirt and sweat. What do you think, dearheart? she asked, arms folded across her chest as she observed the young queen-rider.
I think that we have pushed them hard enough for one day, replied Shirath, her shadow skimming over her rider as she passed overhead. A Benden bronze bugled at her, and she gave a teasing call in answer—poor bronzes, that had to wait for this little white queen to grow.
Finneseth is not the only female dragon in this weyr, Amhira reminded Shirath, hearing her dragon's train of thought.
It is different, replied Shirath. There are greens and there are queens.
What about this green, Finneseth's dam? Amhira asked, still watching Vell, who was struggling with a few more straps, her fingers shaking with fatigue. She felt Shirath pause.
Maventh is different than both, replied Shirath at some length. She is inexplicable, but she cannot replace a queen.
She provided a replacement, though, said Amhira. Finneseth would not be spectacularly large, she thought, her eyes running over the proportions of the young dragon. But she would not be particularly small, either—she would most likely grow larger than Branelth, Ista's junior queen; and perhaps larger than Vynth, the senior queen of Telgar as well, Amhira decided. But who knew—it wasn't unheard of for queens to keep growing even after their first rising, after the other dragons of the same clutch had reached their full growth. It was all a game of chance, really. She refocused on the girl, who had finished taking off the gear and now regarded her with resigned grey-blue eyes. "Don't look at me like I just killed your puppy, Vell," she admonished, half a smile taking the edge from her voice. "We're done for the day."
Vell couldn't help but breathe a sigh of relief, and she didn't particularly care that Amhira saw her happiness at the end of the lesson. "Oh," she said, as she turned away, "there's someone who asked me to see you." Finneseth had already alerted Warith at the completion of the lesson, and had been assured that Rija was on her way. Vell looked up and saw Amhira do the same from the corner of her eye.
Amhira scanned the skies and spotted a dark-green dragon, smaller than Finneseth, winging her way toward the knoll. Who is it, darling? she asked Shirath.
Her name is Warith, Shirath replied, sounding puzzled. The queen stood and stretched out her neck in a watchful, curious posture. And she says her rider's name is Rija.
"Rija?" Amhira repeated out loud. She'd heard her younger sister had Impressed, yes, but she'd forgotten it had been at Benden, what with Shirath's weyrlings taking to the skies, and fighting Thread for the first time.
Vell watched Amhira and saw the surprise flash across the dark woman's face at the sight of Warith, coasting down to land a small distance away. Rija dismounted gracefully and walked toward them, greeting Vell and Finneseth, who were slowly making their way away from the knoll. Vell wanted to stay and watch, but Finneseth took hold of the edge of her tunic and propelled her away.
Not everything is for your eyes, the young queen reminded her rider, who chuckled at her dragon and agreed.
I know, love. I'm just happy lessons are over. What do you say to a bath in the lake? Vell asked.
You need a bath more than me, retorted Finneseth, looking her grimy rider up and down. I am hungry. I am going to ask Ariath if she will join me for a hunt.
Suit yourself, smiled Vell. I'm off to the baths.
With a last bunt at Vell's leg, nearly knocking her tired rider off her feet in the process, Finneseth took off and wheeled in the direction of the hunting grounds. Vell stood and shaded her eyes against the sun for a moment, watching her beautiful queen against the perfect blue of the sky. Her legs protested at standing still—actually, at standing in general, and with another sigh she forced herself to start walking again, thinking eagerly of a hot bath.
xXxXx
The light of a glow-basket deepened the flickering shadows. A voice threaded through the darkness, low and inquisitive.
"Did you find it?"
The question hung in the stale air. And then came the answer.
"Yes."
Teeth gleamed as lips parted in a predatory smile. "Very good, Daskin. Now, I trust you know what you must do next?"
"My lady?" The man's brow furrowed in consternation as he attempted to follow his mistress's train of thought.
"We have the formula. Now all we need is the proper…subject," explained the low voice, velvety and smooth against the cold stone walls. A strain of impatience surfaced. "I am tired of waiting, Daskin. It took you long enough to procure the necessary ingredients."
"My lady," protested Daskin, "we had to follow the record—after we found them we had to translate them and decipher the symbols. It was not easy to fool the healers into giving us the proper ingredients, they are safeguarded, they are dangerous—"
"Enough!" snarled the woman's voice. "Do you think I care, Daskin? Do you think I care how hard it was for you to dupe some wherry-headed apprentices into giving you some plants? By the First Egg, you could have stolen them!"
"We didn't want to arouse suspicion," said Daskin, an undercurrent of defensiveness entering his tone.
A soft knock resounded on the door.
"Answer it, Daskin," hissed the woman's voice, "and tell me who it is before you let them in this time!"
Daskin set the traveling pouch with its precious contents on a table, and made his way to the door. He opened it a crack and demanded roughly, "Who is it and what is your purpose here?"
"Suffice it to say that my purpose here is with the lady," a smooth male voice responded.
"Who are you?" Daskin asked again, hand going to his dagger hilt.
"No need to be hasty, my good man," replied the man standing outside the door. "The lady is expecting me."
Daskin growled in frustration but to his surprise, he found his mistress at his elbow.
"Do come in, my dear rider," she said sweetly, "and tell me, what news do you bring?"
"I believe I've found what you're looking for," said the rider, his face hidden by shadow. "But I require some payment." The flash of coin elicited a chuckle. "Not that sort of payment, my dear."
"You are overstepping your bounds, rider," said the woman softly, dangerously. "But let me hear what news you have brought me, and perhaps you shall get the payment you…desire." These last words were purred, and there was the whisper of flesh upon flesh.
"A young queen at Benden, hatched not a Turn ago," said the rider, voice rich with self-satisfaction. "A beautiful young thing with a beautiful rider."
The woman gave a low, delighted chuckle. "You are very good." She gasped a little as a tongue flicked her earlobe and the rider whispered into her ear, "You have no idea."