Unable to collect the Masterharper himself, B'ton asked Urlyra, who was more than happy to escape the inconsolable Minket, not that it seemed the Lady Holder even realized that the Queenrider had been by her side. Freeth took to the air with such eagerness Urlyra felt a moment of guilt, which she promptly quashed under the call of duty. Riders already had been dispatched to fully inform the other Holds of what had occurred, Fulmar acting as Warder until one of Kestle's sons were confirmed, had written out a brief synopsis of what the riders were to say, knowing the other Lord Holders would demand a fuller account from him at Conclave.
Degal was waiting for her, looking incredibly tired and discouraged. Urlyra felt for him, offering him a hand up as he climbed aboard.
"Thank you, Weyrwoman, Freeth." He said, settling behind her and tightening the riding straps in place. Freeth rumbled her response, and was air born again with that extra length her leap.
Back to the Hold, beloved. Urlyra pictured the gayly decorated Telgar.
We need to see the Mastersweaver first. Freeth surprised her in response, circling Fort Hold once.
We do? Urlyra didn't actually question the statement, her mindmate would occasionally make such comments without any prompting, as she visualized the newly built WeaverHall in Southern Boll.
We do. For we have. That cryptic comment was the only warning she got as they emerged a full two hours before they left. For one crazy moment she was aware that in the current now Kestle was still alive- on the ground weavers waved frantically at her, the signal pendant hanging lacklusterly in the windless afternoon. Freeth executed a perfect landing as Degal leaned forward and asked what was going on.
"Masterharper! Master Thursk- Master Thursk has been attacked!"
Perhaps we should have brought the Masterhealer- Urlyra thought, as the Masterharper slipped his restraints and went running after the journeyman to the Master's quarters.
No. The Masterharper is the only one the Masterweaver wants now. Freeth disagreed. One of the apprentices, a young man who had stood on the Sands in the last Hatching, she realized suddenly, offered her a cup of water.
"How bad is it?" She asked him, sipping the water. The young man shook his head.
"Healer Quist says he'll not live out the night."
Wings flew in search patterns from the moment they could get mounted until long after sunset. B'ton paced Telgar's kitchen waiting for each and every report, not that he didn't already know the answers. No evidence of the exiled man could be found and with two assailants dead and the third unconscious he had little to nothing to go on.
No one approached him until Fulsa did, carrying a tray of food and hot klah.
"I want to ask something, on Fulmar's behalf. " She said in a low tone. B'ton took the tray with ill grace, but nodded, indicating he was listening. "When we interrogate the boy who attacked Fulmar, will you ask Wubath to extract any answers that are not forthcoming?"
B'ton looked up at her, shocked by what she was asking. Dragonfolk knew there was no privacy around dragons, but to deliberately go into another's mind and take that information-? Most dragons balked at the idea, equating it to really the only form of theft they understood. Worst still, he found he didn't have all that many qualms about doing so, and that worried him almost as much as the request.
And I'm back.