Present Pass 16
Mirrim felt her consciousness rise through a blissfully-warm, euphoric daze. She sensed Path's contentment to be next to Mowalth. B'nard's dragon had caught her again. Suppressing her irritation, she rose on one elbow to glare at that persistent rider only to find him already regarding her. She began to rise but he pushed her back down.
"I don't understand your reticence, Mirrim," B'nard crooned as he stroked her cheek. "Mowalth and Path enjoy each other and I certainly enjoy you. Why are you so quick to leave the pit when you find yourself with me?"
"I am quick to leave regardless of the rider, B'nard. You've merely had the opportunity of witnessing it before." She tried to rise but he rolled over her, essentially pinning her.
"If you'd declare for me and Mowalth, we could be in my weyr and quit with the lots and this pit."
Mirrim struggled beneath him but he held her tight. "Get off of me, you wherspoor. I have no intention of declaring. Not for you. Not for anyone." She snarled through her teeth.
"Ah, but you lie, my dear," he replied with a quick peck to her nose. "You and I share the same predicament."
"What do you mean?" Mirrim was taken aback.
"You'd take T'gellan."
"And you would too?"
"No," B'nard chuckled. "I mean that the one I want is also inaccessible. Much the same as how the two of you have been separated."
"You want Talina?"
"Gah, no!" B'nard rolled off of her to find his trousers. She sat up as well observing the pit that was littered with the tatters of her blouse and skirt. B'nard returned with a robe for her. "You'd save on clothing too, declaring for us."
"I don't understand." Mirrim stood wrapping the robe around her.
"Huh, and they said you were bright." B'nard shrugged. "Come to my weyr tonight and I will tell you.
"I suppose I am to share your furs too."
"Not necessarily," B'nard chuckled again as he walked toward the curtain. "I'd wager that Mowalth and Path would always have to be involved. I'll tell you about my Bagira and perhaps we can come to an understanding." He exited the pit.
Mirrim mulled over the name; a woman's name. No golden rider in any of the Weyrs was called that. No woman of Benden's lower caverns was named such. He must have found a woman like G'lenan's Soromiah. Married or betrothed, no doubt. She sighed. Although she was growing accustomed to Path's mating flights, she was dead tired of B'mezal rolling those green marbles in the basket each time F'lar imposed the lots. Riders still maneuvered for Path's next mating flight. She could be done with it if she'd only make a decision. B'nard was a decent rider, good man in a threadfight. Perhaps a visit to his weyr after dinner and a promise to sleep in her own weyr, Mirrim thought. She could at least listen to him.
She sat with her own wing at dinner. Her wingmates knew not to voice their speculation on Mowalth's second catch of Path. B'nard sat with his wing, his back to their table. After she finished her meal and cleared her tray at the kitchen pass-through she approached him until all the riders at his table looked up. He inclined his head to her then rose. Chatter increased as the two walked toward the bowl.
Mowalth landed before them dipping his proud blue head to Mirrim who dutifully scratched his eye ridges. Before she could protest B'nard had lifted her to Mowalth's back then mounted behind her.
"That was uncalled for," she growled as he settled behind her.
He shifted forward circling her waist in his arms as he mentally asked Mowalth to rise to their weyr. Crooning beside her ear, he said, "We have appearances to maintain."
Mowalth landed on the thin lip of his weyr and crawled inside with his rider and guest still on his back. The weyr was high, wide but shallow. Mowalth could spread his wings if he wanted. However, Path was also inside the weyr, nestled in the smooth stone couch. With characteristic annoyance, Mirrim mentally demanded of her dragon, "Was this afternoon not enough for you?"
"I come to keep your promise." Path replied, blinking the outer lids of her eyes.
Mirrim nodded to Path as she slid down the opposite side of Mowalth than B'nard.
"Come this way," B'nard said as he walked past Mirrim and slid behind a curtain to a stone structure within the high cave. B'nard's cave was one of the few that shared bathing chambers. The riders' sleeping rooms were constructed of mortar and rock so that they had privacy from dragons and each other. Mirrim realized that the pool was actually in the middle of the cavern that could have fit a Benden queen, if she would concede to share. As she pulled aside the curtain, B'nard was at the next curtain. He beckoned to her then slipped behind it.
She entered the bathing chamber as B'nard turned two sconces to light the area. The pool was long and the room was open to the high ceiling. She gazed upward as three sets of amber eyes looked guiltily at her from the roof of B'nard's sleeping chamber. As she looked along the side of the pool she could tell that her fire lizards had already dunked themselves.
"Molwalth invited them," B'nard said absently as he kneeled by the pool and splashed his hand to the opposite side where another curtain covered the other rider's room. "That's P'llomar and Ladrarth's side.
Mirrim harrumphed her response.
B'nard looked back at her and chuckled. "He's a bit much at times, I'll grant you."
"He is most annoying," Mirrim replied. "A bit of a troublemaker too."
"Decent green rider," B'nard dissembled.
"Your opinion," Mirrim countered.
B'nard threw back his head and roared a laugh that echoed off the walls. He stood and approached her. "We'll go back into the bedchamber. Sound won't travel."
She followed him, trying to stifle her aggravation as she heard her three fire lizards dive back into the pool.
"I don't really care why you and P'llomar dislike each other so much. He was adamant that he would move from this weyr if you and I declare for each other. I'd rather share this weyr with sour ol' B'mezal than that impostor."
"This is why you want me? To rid yourself of P'llomar?"
B'nard regarded her for a moment, daring her to continue then shrugged. "It's another reason the Weyrfolk will believe."
Mirrim nodded, "You did mention a woman's name. I didn't recognize it." She watched the man's face, waiting for his reply.
"Molwalth and I want to keep this weyr, P'llomar moved to that side after we caught Ladrarth a few turns ago. Mowalth never tried for her again. And P'llomar, well, his appetites are not appealing to me and he, he doesn't keep any lover very long either." B'nard turned away from her, gauging whether to tell her about Bagira.
"What has this weyr to do with the woman you mentioned?" Mirrim couldn't remember the name. Path was no help.
"In good time, Mirrim. I need to trust you first."
"As do I."
"Move to my weyr." B'nard blurted. "We can set up a second cot, even a curtain. This room is big enough." He moved about the room, gesturing. He stared at the far wall remembering long nights and lonely thoughts. "A few sevenday is all it will take to drive the other green rider from my weyr."
"And the woman?" Mirrim asked B'nard's back.
"Come with me next rest day, and you two can meet."
Mirrim glanced around the room. She could imagine a family living in sections of this spacious room. She wished she could assess P'llomar's bedchamber and weyr couch before agreeing to anything.
"Ladrarth complains that her couch is too small and welcomes me to it. She is not happy here since Mowalth made her go to her own side." Path said.
"I would like a deeper bath," Mirrim added. Her bath was always too hot and she usually filled a metal tub for bathing so that she wouldn't scald her skin. However, her knees and shoulders couldn't fit underwater at the same time.
"Mowalth says I may stay with him on his couch," Path added. "He flies me well and is worthy of me."
She observed the stocky blue rider's wide back and muscular legs and noted that he kept balling then flexing his hands.
"Next restday," she conceded as she turned to leave.
B'nard was glad he was not facing her because he couldn't mask his triumphant smile. "Stay a while longer, Mirrim. If you and Path fly to your own weyr now, others will speculate."
Mirrim made a guttural sound of disgust, "why this need to appear as if we're together?"
"It will be clear to you by the next restday," B'nard replied, his features again schooled to disinterest as he turned to face her. "Stay a while; have a soak. Try out your new bath. It is slow to refresh and once P'llomar returns I will tell him we soaked in it along with the fire lizards. He has fouled it to spite me before. I am looking forward to telling him."
"I have made no agreement to move to you weyr yet."
"But you will," he said as he handed her a towel then exited to his dragon.
###
It was a misty restday when B'nard and Mirrim lifted from Benden's Bowl on their dragons. Path followed Mowalth as he pumped his wings a few times to rise above the wet air. Mowalth bespoke Path who let Mirrim know she understood the jump then they went between.
Mowalth and Path burst from between over the plains above the Greater Dunto River. Evidence that it was fertile land that had been cultivated for millennia spread below them. Stone walls stretched in straight lines and at right angles marking the barriers for runners and herders as well as newly turned fields. Mirrim did note that several of the fields lay fallow which she thought strange for this time in spring. Mowalth dipped his right wing to fly a wide arc over an abrupt cliff.
Miriam looked for the hold but only saw tumbles of rocks against the dun cliffs. It didn't look natural nor did it look like a hold. As they followed behind Mowalth and B'nard, Path remarked, "Molwalth says we will land above the hold on those rocks. The blue rider wishes to tell us more of this hold before we land."
Molwalth backwinged to a rather flat rock then hopped to the side so that Path could land. When she folded her wings to her back Mirrim was even with B'nard and no more than a few feet apart.
"This is Endyar Hold, my boyhood home." B'nard said as he waved his arm before them. "I was to inherit. When I impressed Mowalth, the hold, the land and the lady went to my brother; my twin, my identical twin."
"What of it?" Mirrim responded looking towards him.
B'nard nodded while still looking out at the lands. He faced her and considered saying more then hastily decided. "We will spend the next few hours with my former people. They know little of Weyrlife and you will be a," he paused. "A curiosity. I know enough of your character that you will be respectful toward them." He leaned back as Mowalth dropped. The blue dragon gracefully glided forward, dipping one wing to turn then land at the base of the jumble of rocks. "I also know you hate injustice," B'nard whispered. "You will help us once you meet Bagira."
As Path landed next to Mowalth, Mirrim observed that the first people to exit the hold were men, armed with swords and shields. They looked not so much to the riders as the surrounding cliffs and outbuildings. She was familiar with farmholds but now that she observed the area, she noticed that efforts had been made to clear all obstructions from the front of the sheer cliff. The work had been recent. No gardens, no shelters or outbuildings were near the cliff. The jumble of rocks she had viewed from above was actually the remnants of a rock slide. Some of it had been cleared. The approach from ground was created so that only one course lead directly to the massive front doors which were similar to Ruatha's Hold. This marked Endyar as an ancient Hold, perhaps as old as Telgar itself. How defensive it appeared, especially for farm holders.
B'nard was standing beside Path holding his hand out to her. That he was wearing both a sword and a boot dagger did not escape her scrutiny. She lifted one leg over Path's neck to land next to B'nard. She was hanging her helmet off the epaulettes of her wherhide jacket as the troops approached. B'nard stepped before her with his arms outstretched. "Kinsmen, I bring a guest, Green Path's rider, Mirrim of Benden." He swept aside as she looked up into the astonished eyes of the first man. He hesitated a fraction as a few of the men behind him gasped.
"Welcome to Endyar Hold Mirrim, green Path's rider. Welcome Path of Benden Weyr. We are pleased to see you B'nard and Blue Mowalth. Welcome home." He stepped forward with his right arm outstretched.
B'nard gripped it then slapped the man's shoulder, "It is good to be home, Harlan. We swept to the north and west before landing. All was clear. Do I expect all is well before the main hold?"
Harlan nodded, "As well as we can expect. Come! My Lady Bagira waits to greet you.
Mirrim walked beside B'nard with Harlan through the columns of men who followed behind them. She had hoped that a restday away from Benden would mean not meeting the eyes of each man she saw. These men looked at her with wonder. Outside of the Weyrs, a woman rider on a green must still be a novelty. She was practiced at dealing a direct gaze and found that they were quick looked away.
At the door, B'nard took Mirrim's elbow in the etiquette of Holders and preceded the host of soldiers into the Hold Proper. Near the door, stood a woman, who was of the same height and approximate build as her. Mirrim and the woman regarded each other attentively. B'nard had said something and both women looked at him briefly, not comprehending.
B'nard enjoyed their reaction to each other. He had imagined the moment the two of them met and was pleased with the mimicked looks of disbelief.
"Incredible, Bonard! She could be MY twin," the woman gasped.
"Lady Bagira, I introduce Green Path's rider, Mirrim of Benden. Mirrim, this is my sister-in-law, Lady Bagira of Endyar Hold."
Mirrim was the first to recover as she held out her hands, palms up. "I greet you Lady Bagira." Path's trumpeting was heard from without. With a start, Bagira remembered herself and covered Mirrims palms. She motioned to a drudge who shuffled forward for Mirrim and B'nard's gear.
"I greet you Mirrim, Path's rider. Welcome to our home." B'nard took Bagira's elbow as she kept hold of one of Mirrim's hands. They turned. Two light haired girls curtsied simultaneously.
B'nard gestured to the girl on the right, "My niece Endicara and beside her is her sister Iricara."
The taller girl inclined her head toward Mirrim and stated, "You do us honor Weyrwoman Mirrim."
"She's not a Weyrwoman. Mirrim rides a fighting dragon!" the younger girl interjected.
"Hush, Iricara." Bagira warned.
"No, no, she is correct," Mirrim said, taking her hand out of Bagira's and placing it under the chin of the girl with eyes exactly like B'nard's. "I ride green Path who chews firestone and breathes fire to sear thread from the skies of Pern. No queen would do that, so you are correct that I am not a Weyrwoman."
The little girl's grey eyes grew big with wonder while the older girl added, "Unc B'nard rides Mowalth the blue dragon who fights thread too."
The small ensemble in the reception hall looked up when a gray-haired woman holding a squirming child gasped. The boy slipped through her arms and toddled toward B'nard who swooped the giggling child up in his arms holding him high before settling him on his right side. "This, Mirrim, is my nephew Balarno, Barno, meet Green Path's rider, Mirrim of Benden. The little boy held out his fist which Mirrim covered with her hand.
"I greet you Balarno of Endyar Hold." Mirrim said gravely. She surmised that this child was the heir of the great hall and fertile lands beyond the cliffs.
The grey-haired woman approached gingerly, gazing between Mirrim and Bagira.
Bagira stepped beside the old woman bringing her closer to Mirrim, "Mirrim, this is my mother-in-law, Lady Balla. Mother, meet Mirrim of Benden Weyr, Green Path's rider." Balla's grey eyes searched Mirrim then peered again at Bagira.
"I greet you Mirrim." Lady Balla gruffed with a slight incline to her head. She turned abruptly to her son. "B'nard, you look well. How is Mowalth?"
"My dragon is fit, Mother." B'nard gave her a perfunctory embrace and kiss. "You look well too."
"My legs ache and my hands are stiff." Balla turned toward Mirrim holding out her hand, "Are you kin to Bagira's people?"
"I, I don't believe so, ma'am," Mirrim replied carefully while lightly pressing her calloused hand to hers. "I grew up in Southern Weyr and came to Benden in my youth."
Bagira interrupted, "No mother Balla, I do not believe that any of my people became dragonfolk but I do admit, looking at Mirrim, I understand why you ask." Bagira turned to Mirrim. "We could be sisters."
Mirrim nodded. "I thought the same when I was introduced to you." She understood better the gaping men.
"Come, Bonard, Bagira, and children. We must escort our esteemed guest to the dining hall for breakfast." The old woman's hand snaked into Mirrim's arm as she began pulling her toward the archway from which she had entered the great hall. The keystone on the arch was highly polished like the pass-through arches in Benden's lower caverns. They traversed a short hall that opened into a long room with a high ceiling.
The walls in the room were lined with paintings of former Endyar Holders. The nearest one showed Bagira's family. She stood next to her husband, an exact copy of B'nard with her two daughters in front of her. Before Bolard, two boys stood. All three males wore short swords in scabbards with elaborate metal scrolling. The design was similar to the pendants about the necks of the three females. The picture next to this was of a burly man and Balla. Standing before them were B'nard, Bolard and a delicate girl. The family portraits ran the length of the room.
Trestle tables were set diagonally to a table on a raised platform where an ornate wooden table was set with a light meal of breads and vegetables. Balla steered Mirrim to this table directing her to sit at the nearest seat.
Mirrim watched Bagira, B'nard and Harlan sit toward the other end with their heads together speaking rapidly. Balla's face moved into her line of sight. "May I interest you in some sweetbreads with a mug of klah, green rider Mirrim?"
"Klah, please," Mirrim replied.
The old woman sat to obscure Mirrim's view of the three at the other end of the table. She saw B'nard look at her and nod. She reserved herself for the Lady Balla's scrutiny.
"In what manner are you acquainted with my son?" Balla began bluntly after she passed a steaming mug of klah to Mirrim.
She handled the mug taking an approving sip. "We are Benden riders. Your klah is strong. Exactly how I like it."
"My son, B'nard, has never brought another rider with him before."
Mirrim looked the old woman with grey eyes the same shape as B'nard's brown. Balla was a solid woman who carried herself with a regal dignity. Mirrim perceived the steel of hardship and perseverance in this woman and was reminded of Brekke when she was trying to prompt reluctant information out of her. "To such a lovely Hall, I cannot imagine that I am B'nard's first guest" She replied while taking another sip. She pointed to the picture of Balla with her family. "B'nard has spoken of his brother but never a sister."
Balla leaned back in her chair to look at her family portrait giving Mirrim a chance to view the rest of the group, including the children then she abruptly moved forward again. "I had been advised that my blue rider son may bring a green rider to visit one day but you are a surprise."
Mirrim sat mum and boldly held Balla's grey eye with her green, determined to give this woman no relief to her prying.
"You ride with my son?"
"In threadfights, yes."
"You fly beside him?"
"B'nard flies in the Benden Weyrleader's wing. My wing flies to the left and below two tiers during threadflight." That Balla knew something of Weyrlife, didn't intimidate her.
"Then how come you by him?"
"We are Benden Riders." She replied and took another sip of klah. "B'nard told me that his twin is the master of this hold. Is he out in the fields on a rest day?"
"Bolard is delivering his sons to foster. I expect his return within a sevenday or two," Lady Balla replied abruptly. "You do not fly in his wing but you know him well enough to visit his home. I find your presence in my hold curious."
"Curious?" Mirrim echoed. "As a Benden rider, I am accustomed to being welcomed."
The set of the old woman's mouth gave Mirrim indication that Balla was growing irritated. "Oh yes, you exalted dragon riders enjoy a charmed life," Lady Balla growled. "You don't toil in a field for your bread nor tend beasts for you meat yet you eat and drink your fill."
"Your fields, beasts and home are unthreaded because of dragon riders." Mirrim replied calmly. "Men like your son give up their homes, their people and their very selves to assure that others will continue to possess those things."
Lady Balla blinked a few times before looking down at her clenched hands. She flexed them and sighed. "I meant no insult, green rider. You are weyr-bred, you cannot know of the hardship the rest of Pern suffered since thread began. Look among these tables. We have had these tables filled not because of fertile lands but because neither Telgar nor Igen riders would fly portions of our lands. This makes it difficult to hold. The only comfort I have is that my son flies with Benden and not an Oldtimer weyr."
"Lady Balla," Mirrim began, "I fly over forests of Lemos, the vineyards of Benden and the fields that supply Bitra their bread. I have risked myself and my Path to keep thread from alighting on any of that land. Riders are not always successful. Sometimes thread gets through and sometimes thread gets a rider or a dragon. You may lose a field but we lose riders and dragons to injury and death. That is the hardship that you cannot know."
"Endyar Hold supports the cots of 28 minor farms and we are forced to tithe to both Igen and Telgar in order to be assured that when we emerge from this hold that we still have a livelihood. We were still prospering when Arden was managing but since his death we struggle. I need my son to come home."
"You said Bolard will be home within a sevenday or two," Mirrim replied.
Balla gave Mirrim a look of contempt. "Are you what holds my Bonard to Benden?"
Mirrim's temper was about to erupt. "Blue Mowalth holds B'nard to Benden and B'nard holds Mowalth to their very existence." She breathed deeply, "Path if there was ever a moment that a fire lizard diversion was necessary, it is now. Call Reppa, Lok and Tolly to me."
The old woman's eyes narrowed as she watched Mirrim's eyes regain focus. Three fire lizards burst into the hall trilling as they flew the length of the room and back. Endicara and Iricara squealed with delight while dashing toward Mirrim who was now a perch for a red-eyed Reppa and two more subdued fire lizards. Through it all Balla calmly regarded Mirrim then fixed B'nard with a steely gaze.
Balarno overcame his shyness as his sisters clamored around the fire lizards. Balla rose gracefully. "The three look to you," she harrumphed. "I am not finished with you, Mirrim of Benden." She walked stiffly down the length of the table and past her son, daughter-in-law and steward.
B'nard nodded to her but kept listening to Harlan.
"Mowalth says 'well done' to you with the ma'am of his rider." Path relayed.
"Tell Mowalth I will 'well done' his rider later." Mirrim replied then answered the girls' questions about her fire lizards. After a while, B'nard beckoned to her. She left them to the three children who were stuffing them with the remains of breakfast.
"Mirrim, I am going to take Bagira on Mowalth to the lower farmholds to drop supplies. Would you like to join us?" B'nard asked. She watched Harlan look to the two of them then questioningly at her.
"Mowalth's rider wishes us to fly the front one to the heights." Path said.
"Harlan, will you come? Will you ride with me?" Mirrim asked, deciding that B'nard must want to take Bagira away from his mother's watchful eyes, not to mention that the steward seemed a bit uncomfortable too.
"It would be my honor, green rider." He replied.
B'nard came forward for Mirrim's arm as Harlan proffered his to Bagira. "Endicara, watch your brother and sister," she admonished as the four exited the room. The men-at-arms were stationed about the outer rooms at the windows and door. The drudge who had taken their wherhide gear now carried twice the load.
About half the guard walked the riders to their dragons. B'nard leaned towards Mirrim's ear, "Follow us to the first farmhold then you and Harlan will fly the mountain passes."
"Am I looking for something?" Mirrim asked as she slid her arms through her jacket.
"Harlan will show you where to fly. He will do the looking." B'nard stepped away to Mowalth who had crouched while Bagira scrambled onto him. Both Lady and dragon seemed at ease with each other. Mowalth didn't mind the men strapping sacks onto his back. Mirrim turned to Harlan and gestured for him to follow her onto Path.
They flew the length of the valley then veered west to a farmhold that consisted of long low stone buildings.
As both dragons landed adjacent to the low building a runner and her colt bolted from under the eaves. A young man, dressed in patched pants and jacket ran in a futile attempt to bring them back. "Curse your daft arses to the wherries," he cried shaking a fist.
"I could have Mowalth bring her back, Cursto," B'nard drawled as he and Bagira dismounted carrying heavy sacks.
The man spun around to face the rider and Lady Holder. He sputtered then regained his bearings. "You've brung the seed, Master Bonard. I suppose that were worth the half day walk I will need to bring that nag back."
"We brought some cereal and cheese for you and yours too," Bagira added as she walked past him to the hold where a tired woman holding a baby greeted her. The two entered the cot while B'nard gestured for Cursto to take the sacks. He turned to Mirrim and Harlan, "Go on, we'll catch up."
Harlan murmered into Mirrim's ear. Head north, Path's rider."
Mowalth pressed his muzzle into Path's neck and warbled. She bunched her back legs and pushed to the sky. The last thing that registered in Mirrim's mind as they veered north was that the poor farmer had not noticed the second dragon until they lifted. His gaping mouth was awarded with a mouthful of silty dirt. She asked Path to fly back the way they had come. A tap on her left shoulder and Harlan gestured toward the northwest. With a request to Path, they veered away from the wide valley that ended in the towering cliffs of Endyar Hold.
Path caught an air stream and glided in a northerly direction. They passed over the rough terrain of the Southern Telgar Range. There were few examples of habitation. Even at late spring, the summits were tipped with snow. Straight ahead was a frozen alpine lake. Harlan tapped Mirrim's shoulder again, gesturing in an arch behind them. This time, Path turned immediately with the man's gesture.
"Do you hear Harlan, Path?" Mirrim asked.
"The heavy one behind you thinks loudly," Path replied.
"How interesting. I wonder if he should have been searched." Mirrim mused. "He is following B'nard's orders, I am certain of that."
"He follows the angry and the lonely ones' orders more what Mowalth's rider wants. They are all frightened and not like thread fear." Path continued. "The air tastes of metal."
"Yes, we are over mines, I suppose that the heavy one wants to avoid them. Is he too heavy for you, my love?"
"His mind is heavy. I am strong. I can carry 10 of him and not feel the weight." Path boasted.
Harlan tapped her shoulder again and yelled but the wind swept away his words. Mirrim shifted to glance at him then pointed down. She could see him nod vigorously. Once among the peaks, he leaned in close to her ear and said, "If you can, green rider, land on that slope."
Mirrim relayed the direction and request to land to Path. As she prepared to settle in the middle of the field she lifted with a shriek then landed on an outcrop of rock in the middle of the slope. She hissed and her eyes were red.
Mirrim surveyed the ground in disgust. "This field has been threaded." She looked back to Harlan who was unstrapping himself. "What are you doing?"
"I want to walk this field." Harlan dismounted and began navigating the rock down to the sloping field." He seemed grimly eager. Mirrim unstrapped, flung her leg over Path and nimbly stepped down the uneven ground to the frozen black soil.
"What was this?" She asked.
Harlan was watching the ground as he walked on a diagonal from Path. "It was once an alpine meadow on the edge of Endyar holdings. We used to work the seams there for blackrock." He gestured to the holes in the rocks in the northern face of the slope. "Telgar Weyr does not recognize it as part of their area and Igen will not protect it without Endyar tithing to them, The Lord Holder of Keroon will not accept us as Telgar's Lord claims that Endyar has always been his; thus its threaded state." He looked up to note that she was trailing him. "I suppose the machinations of Lord Holders and foreign Weyrleaders are of little interest to a Benden fighter."
"Quite the contrary," Mirrim replied as she stepped beside him. "Lady Balla touched on the same issue over klah this morning. I had noticed other threaded areas. We fly segments of the higher Benden Range that we do not fight in the winter. Firstly because nobody lives there and secondly because thread freezes and dies when it touches snow. Thread is dangerous enough when we're protecting life and property."
They continued walking with their eyes to the ground.
"Harlan," Mirrim asked when they reached the edge of the charred field. "What are we looking for?"
The man regarded the green rider for a few moments, doubt and yearning reflected in his expression. "I do not know," He finally said. "This is the direction that Bolard came with Borek and Ardelot. They would have stayed their first night in one of the old caves but I never found any trace they got this far."
"I don't understand," Mirrim said, looking carefully on Harlan's face. "Lady Balla said that Bolard will be home in a sevenday."
Harlan nodded grimly. Bolard left with the boys almost three turns ago right before winter set in. He should have made Igen Hold in two sevenday. The runners were found at an inn about two days from Igen Hold. My Lady Balla refused to acknowledge what I had determined that first spring."
"You think the Holder is dead, then, along with his heirs."
Harlan looked over her head back at the field. "Bolard may have been killed by renegades. We've been plagued with them in these mountain passes, especially since the scourge from the sky. He and the boys may have been captured and pressed into working any of the mines up north, although we've made the proper inquiries. Bolard may have gone another direction. May have simply taken his boys and walked away from his ancestral hold."
"Bolard would abandon his kin?" Mirrim acceded. "Then he is very different from B'nard."
"B'nard was always to Hold, then "Harlan paused, looking directly at Mirrim, "impression."
She smiled despite herself. Harlan smiled back. "I've known the twins since we were boys. Back then, we talked of impressing a dragon or catching a fire lizard. Not that none of us saw a real one of either. Pern is full of dragons and fire lizards now. I suppose when B'nard left on that brown dragon we expected him back. It were more than six months before we heard he impressed Mowalth. He appeared one day on blue Mowalth and sent the herds bolting up the valley; it was hard on the family."
Mirrim clicked her tongue. "And I thought only me and Path caused consternation when we joined."
"But you were chosen to stand before the eggs."
"No, I was in the tiers. Path came up to me. She left the men on the sands for me. Lessa and F'lar told me to go to her. Nobody wants a hatching to be blighted by a dragonet suicide."
"Then you came by three fire lizards!" Harlan continued, as he started walking the perimeter of the charred field.
"My fire lizards were different altogether. I impressed them long before Path. I lived in Southern at the time when F'nor called to Brekke to come with food as quickly as possible. She and I found as many riders as we could. It was a nest hatching on the beachhead. Wherries were already diving on them by the time we got there. I only impressed three because that was all the food I had brought." Mirrim walked beside him.
Harlan stopped again with a chuckle. He shook his head, "Green rider, how did B'nard come by you? You mention famous riders and Weyrwomen like they was your kin."
"They are, of sorts. I was fostered to Brekke and was in attendance when the dragons brought F'nor back from the red star. I was a journeyman healer at the time." Mirrim had stopped walking, staring ahead with unfocused eyes for a moment until Path trilled.
Harlan wondered if he had upset her. "So all I need is food and a beachhead to get myself a fire lizard."
Mirrim refocused and hurried to walk next to him. "Unless there's at least one egg, the beachhead is of no use."
Harlan looked toward the sun which was past its zenith. "Lady Mirrim,"
"Mirrim, call me Mirrim and I will call you Harlan if you wish."
"I want to walk down that direction, Mirrim." Harlan gestured south. I will meet you back by your dragon."
She watched him walk away then turn. She decided that he was relishing this rare opportunity to study this field and he wanted to do it privately. "Lady Balla is not a woman who I would think as delusional." Mirrim said to Path as she began walking back across the burned out field.
Mirrim left Harlan to walk his grid pattern. At least twice he dug into the ground with his long knife. She chose to walk the area behind the outcrop where Path had perched. She occasionally rumbled in discomfort. "This is old threadground," she remarked.
"Yes," Mirrim replied. "It was left unchecked. Look at the size of this ring. I don't recall ever seeing an outer coil so large. I doubt a drop of agenothree was ever used on it."
What would thread find to burrow through in a high alpine meadow? It is well above tree line. Mirrim kept the thought to herself. Although she fought thread in the air and cleaned up whenever any burrowed into the ground, only among the trees of Lemos had she seen coil sizes like this one. It had begun to disintegrate. By another few turns, this field would recover, unless thread fell on it again.
Mirrim had been walking the circle when she noticed an anomalous bit of thread shell. It was shaped in fist-size circles and loopy triangles, almost as if it had been wrought. She kicked at it with her boot. "Too frozen still," Mirrim thought to Path., "I wonder how long ago this meadow was threaded? I suppose I could look in the map room when we return to Benden."
Path replied, "If I had seen the threads I would have seared them from the sky. This place would be nice on a summer afternoon."
Mirrim looked back at her dragon affectionately. Path was in profile with her tail and head up and only her back feet on the rocks. She suddenly looked to Mirrim, eyes spinning green. "Mowalth says we must return to the hold. We must appear together."
Mirrim chuckled. She walked back to Path and was not surprised in the least to see that Harlan was walking back to Path as well.
"B'nard wants us to return," she called out.
Harlan nodded his great head and raised his right arm. Mirrim pulled herself onto Path's neck.
"Did you find anything interesting?" She asked as he stepped up to mount behind her.
"Nothing," he replied with a brooding growl. "I'm strapped."
Mirrim gave Path the command to rise and once they were sufficiently high, they went between. When they appeared above the flat rock where Path and Mowalth had landed that morning, Harlan convulsively grabbed at her.
"A bit of warning, miss," Harlan shuddered. "That was between?! It was so cold and so nothing. How do you stand for it?"
Mirrim began to apologize but Mowalth soared over them from behind.
"Mowalth asks that we land together before the hold." Path said as she began to follow.
No sooner had Mowalth landed than Bagira slid off and ran to the hold door. Harlan, a bit white in the face, quickly followed behind her. Mowalth was in the air before Mirrim realized he was quickly rising. She gave Path the same command.
Bagira looked behind her to see Harlan stumbling towards her. He was sweaty and pale.
"My stars, Harlan. You look ready to heave! What happened?"
He licked his lips a few times then shuddered. He whispered, "Between."
Bagira put a comforting hand on her steward and patted his shoulder. "I wasn't keen on it my first time either."
###
The late hour surprised Mirrim for a moment. She hadn't had reason to be so far west on the northern continent since the cross-craft classes. The memory of her last lesson surfaced to sting her conscience and she shuddered. The day had been satisfyingly diverting until that recollection. She looked to the rider on Mowalth. He had been watching her. She raised her right arm in salute as Path curled toward their high weyr. Mowalth planed toward his; they had agreed before leaving for Endyar Hold that they would return to their respective weyrs.
As Path landed on the thin lip of their tiny weyr, Reppa, Tolly and Lok flitted into the cave. They chattered happily to be home after an active day. The children of Endyar Hold had been fascinated with the fire lizards and each had been amply fondled. "Stay out of my tub," she commanded as she unlooped the straps to free Path.
"I do like my couch but I would also like to snuggle Mowalth," Path said as she rolled into her stone bed. "Do we go to his weyr?"
Mirrim paused by the pegs in her small room. She pulled the curtain back to her even smaller bathing chamber, enjoying the moist heat. "We fight thread over Bitra tomorrow. If the fall causes no injuries we will be free to stay with Mowalth and B'nard for the night." Mirrim heard the pleased rumble from Path as she turned the glow to shed light on her metal tub. Taking a bucket to the pool she filled the half-full tub with the hot water until it was a tolerable temperature. As she leaned back she let her legs hang over the side so that her head and shoulders could be submerged. As she surfaced, she pushed her hair from her face and brought her feet back into the tub.
Bagira's hair cascaded in deep wavy chestnut tresses. Her hair, when it had been long, had been similar, although a bit curlier. She thought she could grow her hair a bit longer, perhaps down to her shoulders. Still, short hair fit better under the close-fitting riding helmet. Perhaps Bagira could cut her hair to shoulder length. It may even curl a bit if she did. Mirrim wasn't certain why she was thinking of how to make the two of them look the same. Bagira was at least 10 turns older. But they were the same height. So close in facial features, nobody would doubt a blood connection. Her daughters and baby son were sweet. The little boy looked so much like B'nard. He was so small for three turns. Then there was the presence of fighting men. And Lady Balla, her animosity toward her son's dragon…
Mirrim sat up, splashing water onto the floor. The people of Endyar Hold acted as if they were under siege but why? She thought back to the Lady Balla's uncomfortable interrogation then the sweepride that ended in a threaded field where Harlan was looking for evidence that Bolard and sons had passed that way, three turns ago. Why so many cryptic statements? Something didn't fit. She settled back in her tub. B'nard expected something of her but what?