Rementh's Hatching and Porth Flies
Julie heard the humming of the dragons through the drapery that hung across the doorway to her quarters and leaped to her feet. She quickly changed into the brightly colored long skirt and scoop neck tunic she had worn at Rementh's previous two hatchings.
This is Rementh's 3rd Hatching. She is now five years old, Julie thought. These were the first truly pleasant thoughts she'd had since Rementh was flown by that blue runt, Dagmath. She had seen that dragonrider swaggering around, that M'tin. Scrawny little fellow. Swaggering around bragging about flying a queen.
MY queen Julie thought, her brow tightening into a scowl as she thought of the incident. He hadn't even the decency to come out of his love nest to acknowledge me! Julie thought indignantly. When word got around what the Weyrleaders had done in punishment, Julie thought it hadn't been near enough! Big deal, Julie fumed, Restricted to their own quarters, no fooling around. Big deal. Firestone duty for a year. Big deal. If I'd been Weyrwoman, I'd show them a thing or two about discipline! Her thoughts spiraled downward and her good mood evaporated.
She threw aside the drapery and went down the stone steps to the main floor, and strode across the cavern floor to the Hatching Ground. Rementh was way off in the back on the platform usually used by the queens for their beautiful golden queen eggs.
There are no queen eggs for my Rementh! Julie thought regretfully. Just these little Wherry sized eggs! She stepped out onto the Hatching Ground sands and went to the raised area where her queen was awaiting the hatching of her eggs. The queen's eyes were whirling moderately in an orange color of disquiet and worry.
Julie stopped abruptly. Where were all the candidates? she thought. Where are all my candidates for the hatching? She counted 8 young people standing there. Mostly boys, but a couple of girls.
Torene and M'hall had just arrived on the Hatching Grounds and were approaching the tiers of seating that had been carved out of the rock face.
"Where are all my candidates? Julie screamed at their backs, leaving the Hatching Ground and nearly catching up with the pair. The two quickly turned around and nearly ran the red-faced woman back to the hatching ground between them.
"Lower your voice and return to your dragon," Torene said quietly through clenched teeth.
Once Torene and M'hall had Julie cornered against the back wall of the hatching grounds, they let go of the small woman. Julie nearly crumpled onto the ground for dramatic effect, but something in M'Hall's look kept her upright.
"We have had Weyrleader Sean, Weyrwoman Sorka, Bay Tarkington and Bichárd d'Anato examine Rementh's eggs," M'hall said quietly. Julie gasped, then glared at her Weyrleaders.
"And for what purpose did you disturb my queen and contaminate the occupants of these shells?" Julie asked haughtily, "if some of these eggs don't hatch, I will…I will take it before the Coun-"
"We have already checked with the Council, and we were told to continue our investigation," M'hall said quietly interrupting Julie's tirade. "We had them check on the viability of the eggs. There are only 6 viable eggs out of the 14 eggs. Ten candidates are plenty."
"Even with six viable eggs, we know from the size of the eggs that we are looking at dwarf dragons or runt dragons. That is why we encouraged the younger candidates. To allow the dragons longer to mature," Torene said.
"You don't know they'll be runts or dwarves!" Julie huffed, "You're just being mean to me! I've seen green dragons in eggs that small!"
"It's possible," M'hall allowed, "but a couple of those eggs look bronze or brown, and those would make mighty small bronze, even brown dragons."
"You don't know that," Julie huffed again, "You're just…"
"Yes," Torene sighed, "M'hall is just being mean to you like he is so heartlessly mean to everyone!" Torene took a step closer to Julie and stared at the older girl intently.
'She was, what, twenty-nine? Thirty years old?' Torene mused to herself. 'Six maybe 7 years my senior. She is beautiful. Petite. Maybe five foot two?' Lovely dark hair, classic oval face and exquisite long lashes surrounding her dark, dark eyes. But there was an unpleasant downward pull to her full, bow shaped lips. A scowl line marred the older woman's brow, seen under her fringe of hair above her eyes. 'She's never been seen with any one man more than once. I wonder why?' Torene mused. The Pern sun had added a golden layer to her already bronze skin. She was fine looking and lithe in a feline sort of way.
"You have been given the same opportunities here on Pern as everyone else. More so, because your parents are charterers and bartered their way into a great wealth of land in a very short time. Why are you so dissatisfied?" Torene asked.
"Wealth!" Julie snarled. "All of our wealth was eaten up by Thread! I watched our cattle, pasturage, people working for us, ALL of it, swallowed up by THREAD!"
"So did a lot of other people," Torene said quietly, "and others paid a higher price. They were eaten alive." She waited a moment for Julie to acknowledge her comment or react with remorse, but Julie's face remained hard and set.
As Julie opened her mouth to say something, all three young people heard the bronze dragons hum intensify.
Julie's face cleared of its' frown and she smiled radiantly.
"Coming, Rementh! I'm coming, my heart!" and with that, she bolted away from the Weyrleaders like a startled fawn.
The Weyrleaders glanced at each other, rolled their eyes and turned to join the rest of the deliberately small group on the stone seats. They had not invited any non-dragon guests and had been lucky enough to have ten candidates who had been born at Fort Weyr and transferred over with their folks when Benden Weyr had been established.
Torene and M'hall had counseled them, telling those that weren't aware of the situation what had happened and giving them the choice. Only one boy had seemed reluctant, but had then acquiesced, saying "ANY dragon is better than NO dragon!"
The bronze dragons were humming in anticipation of the birth of the dragonets. It was instinctive, thankfully, that they hummed, since none of the dragons present were responsible for this clutch.
Tandoman, who was so desperate for a dragon he was willing to take a dwarf, stood near an egg that was the largest one in this clutch. It was mottled gray-blue and tan and it had been rocking for a short time and had a small crack in the shell. He remembered what Weyrleader M'hall had said about letting the occupant make its' own way out of the shell. He so wanted to tap on the crack and help it along.
"Come ON," Tandoman whispered, "Make a great big effort now and bang your way out of there!"
The other eggs that the science team and physician had deemed viable had been rocking, too, in varying degrees of agitation. The pitch of the humming from the bronzes rose a little more and a blue dragon flew into the hatching grounds before anyone really noticed his presence. He stretched out his neck toward the queen and uttered a low, supplicating sound. Rementh head snapped around and she hissed her displeasure. She rustled her wings, stood up on her hind legs and started toward the smaller blue dragon.
The people on the stone steps looked at each other and gasped. It looked like the queen was going to fight the blue! Did dragons fight each other? And where was the blue dragon's rider?
At that moment, the egg at Tandoman's feet split wide open with a very audible ker-ack, and a mottled blue and brown dragonet spilled out onto the sand, going nose first into the boy's foot. He yelped, and stepped back to prevent his other foot from getting pierced by the hard beak that had helped the dragonet break through the tough shell.
The big, ungainly head lifted. The two creatures-one two legged and one four legged-straightened up and met each other's gaze.
"He says his name is Maleth," Tandoman said wonderingly. T'man, as he would now be called, looked up into the rows of seats, waved ecstatically to his folks, then turned and walked to where Torene and M'hall were standing. They pointed him towards the weyrlings holding bowls of fresh meat.
"T'man," Torene said, and the young man's startled glance told her he had forgotten his honorific name change, "the other weyrlings will help you feed Maleth for the first time. Show you how to keep him from choking and gorging. Then Weyrling Master D'nen will help you bed him down for the night. You may return here when you are through."
T'man nodded, his eyes wide and shining. He headed off toward the weyrlings for Maleth's first feeding.
The disruption of the hatching had turned everyone's attention away from Rementh and Dagmath. Dagmath had settled as far away from the golden dragon as possible and still be on the hatching grounds and had hunkered down meekly onto his belly into the sand to show he was no threat. Rementh, for her part, had turned her back on the blue dragon and was watching the rest of her eggs.
Momentarily, two more eggs rocked violently and the next egg to crack open was slightly smaller than Maleth's egg. It split cleanly down the middle and a mottled blue-green dragonet emerged. Keeping its' feet, it staggered over to a girl who was standing by a very small egg. It barked at her and she turned her head and made eye contact. "Oh! Her name is Lemonth!" the girl said, as she caressed the dragonet's eye ridge. Forgetting her parents entirely, she made her way, with Lemonth awkwardly walking beside her, to where the Weyrleaders were standing.
"Isletta, you and Lemonth follow T'man and Maleth and get your young charge fed, then the Weyrling Master will help you bed her down." Torene said, glad that she had drilled herself in the candidates' names.
The third egg was still rocking, but the other 3 eggs that the medical team had deemed viable were not moving, nor were any of the others. Torene looked at M'hall with concern in her eyes and he shrugged. Better to not hatch than hatch something misshapen or grotesque and possibly lose a candidate if the pair linked.
At that very moment, the third egg that had been rocking and one of the quiescent eggs both shattered open abruptly. The candidates fell back in fear. Both occupants were dark gray, wingless and were huge headed. The one on the left turned to the girl closest to it, opened its huge jaws, let out a raucous scream and gathered itself for a leap at the girl. A bronze blur swooped down, snatched it off the sands and ascended up and out through the caldron opening.
The second, somewhat larger ugly gray beast had turned toward the nearest human, which happened to be Torene. Alaranth and Brianth both bugled in rage. M'hall took a mighty leap beyond his wife, swung and connected with the head and knocked the beast sideways onto the sand. Alaranth scooped the creature up into her massive jaws and followed the bronze through the caldera opening. The folks on the stone steps heard the crunch of bones and the death scream of the horrible creature.
M'hall gathered a shaken Torene and terrified candidate into his arms. Looking over the rest of the eggs, they saw movement in one more egg. Trepidatious, to say the least, the candidate that was near it stepped back a bit. It rocked a little more, then split open to show a dragonet with wings and mottled green and brown skin. Sighing with relief, the candidate stepped forward and helped the dragonet free of its shell. The two creatures' eyes met and the boy said, "He says his name is Bonth!" The two turned in tandem and followed the other pairs to the weyrlings who held the bowls of food. Raneld had heard what the Weyrleaders had told the other candidates and he nodded to Torene and M'hall as he made his way past with his new lifelong companion.
"That's going to be a hard name to abbreviate," M'hall chuckled softly to Torene. 'R'eld' Brianth told them both quietly. Torene glanced up at M'hall with a twinkle in her eye and then glanced down at Coriana, the young candidate saved by Boris' bronze Gesilith.
"I'm sorry, Coriana," Torene said sorrowfully, "I don't think you'll be bonding with a dragon tonight."
"That's all right," Coriana said, even though she looked disappointed, "those two gray things were scary! And I almost got eaten! I don't think I want any more excitement tonight." For being only twelve years old, Coriana was handling it remarkably well, Torene thought.
They were all three looking at the remaining eggs, when two more split open simultaneously. The candidates had already retreated to their families on the stone seats.
One was another gray ugly creature and it turned to the other hatchling, a petite, aqua colored dragonet and pounced upon it. Before the startled humans could do anything, Brianth, who had remained on the hatching grounds near his weyrmate, snatched up the gray beast and thrown himself into the air above the watchers and flew out the caldron opening.
Coriana tore herself from Torene's embrace and ran, sobbing, out onto the sands towards the little dragonet who was piously crying and looking about anxiously, bleeding from a wound in her side.
Coriana knelt down next to the perfectly proportioned, aqua colored dragonet and spoke soothingly to her. Their eyes met and the little dragonet laid her head on Coriana's shoulder. The young girl threw her arms around the little creature's neck and said, "She is Joyeth!"
Torene and M'hall had grabbed up some first aid supplies, especially the pot of numbweed and hurried out to the pair. The little creature was beginning to feel the pain and the soothing numbing gel worked its magic immediately. Thankfully, the numbweed was also a bit of an astringent. Torene and M'hall had no idea if the bite of that gray wingless creature was toxic or not.
"Coriana, we need to get you and Joyeth to the Weyrling Master right away and have him investigate this wound. Make sure little Joyeth is going to be okay," Torene said, "I'll have Queenrider Uloa tell your folks where we are so they can meet us there."
Torene silently communed with Uloa's queen Elliath. Then she spoke to Jess' bronze Hallath and N'klas' bronze Petrath to come collect the rest of the eggs. She and M'hall were of one accord when it came to destroying the rest of the eggs that were left. They were not sure how Rementh would handle it, and they did not want their guests to witness it. So Torene also bespoke Jean's Greteth to have Jean come get the guests and take them to the banquet hall immediately. She received affirmatives from all dragons contacted.
Then she turned her attention to Dagmath. The blue dragon had not moved through all the commotion. Torene thought maybe he was there to show support for his part in the flight. She asked him.
Dagmath started as the words filtered into his consciousness. He looked around for the speaker and his gaze rested upon Torene. Yes, he acknowledged, I realize that I had taken a huge license, interfering with a queen's flight that way. But Rementh…Rementh is so beautiful to me, I could not resist.
Torene spoke to him, Rest easy, Dagmath, no one will fault you for the love you hold in your heart. And with that, she released him to leave.
The guests chattered away about the turn of events at this hatching and followed Jean into the banquet hall to enjoy the sweets and savories laid out for them there. They settled easily into the chairs and totally missed the two dragons swoop into the hatching grounds behind them and destroy the remaining eggs.
The dragons ground the eggs into nothingness and scuffed sand over them with their large back feet. Rementh had not moved from her spot at the back wall of the hatching grounds. She did nothing to prevent the bronzes from decimating her eggs. She held Julie captured within the circle of her wings and forelegs and for once, the woman had nothing to say, nothing at all.
Tarrie had felt restless and snappish most of the day. She had even nearly bitten Makayla's head off when the little girl had asked her a simple question. Usually the little girl's cheerful and bubbly presence was well tolerated by everyone in the lower caverns, but today, Tarrie felt pushed beyond endurance.
Suddenly, Mihall was at her side. Tarrie looked up at him in surprise.
"If you recall, Tarrie," her Weyrleader said, "it was decided that when Porth felt capable of rising to mate, you and B'ris would be the only two in the mating chamber, and Gesilith would be the only contender for Porth's affections."
Tarrie look at Mihall rather uncomprehendingly.
"Tarrie!" he decided to be abrupt, "your queen is preparing to rise!"
As she absorbed the meaning of the words and heard her queen squeal as she impaled her first wherry, Tarrie leaped to her feet and hurried for all she was worth with Mihall at her side. Part of her searched for other queen riders, relieved they were gone. Another part of her looked for looked for other bronze dragons, and they too, were gone.
It had been a couple of years since the queens' fight, and Porth had been allowed to heal and exercise at her own pace, to a degree, to help keep her from getting disheartened by the lengthy healing time of wing membrane. And then, she continued to exercise but seemed to have no compunction to rise.
Tarrie had swallowed her disappointment as she felt it was her good fortune to find a bronze rider who wanted a stable relationship, with or without the added benefit of dragon lust. And she felt that should have been enough. But she missed the extra "umph", the glorious extra release that a dragon-fueled lovemaking gave participants. Now, she was close to experiencing it again and she was nervous.
She quickly linked minds with Porth, who welcomed Tarrie with a squeal as she speared her second wherry. A well-disciplined dragon who remembered her lessons well even in the excitement of preparing to mate.
M'hall ushered Boris and Tarrie into the mating chamber and closed the large oaken door.
Boris looked at Tarrie and said "We should have just run up to our weyr. It's much more comfortable."
Tarrie grinned at her lover and bounced on the balls of her feet, excited about the upcoming mating flight.
"Oh, I don't know," she said, "this kind of reminds me of our first mating flight!" and she grinned mischievously.
Boris, delighted that his sweet Tarrie was quickly coming out of her despondency over the long convalescence, caught her up in his arms and kissed her passionately.
The two dragons outside trumpeted unexpectedly over this reversal of roles, and spurred on by their riders' desires, leapt into the air.
Porth, on wings decidedly healed and properly exercised to full capability, surged into the air, squealing and trumpeting her lust to her beloved mate, Gesilith.
Gesilith, hot on her trail, remained silent, saving all his energies for the flight ahead. He had plans.
His faceted eyes caught the heat signature of a thermal that would do nicely. He shifted his wing vanes and caught the thermal, effortlessly floating on the warmer air coming up fast on his beloved.
Porth was still surging ahead, confident that Gesilith was below her when suddenly a shadow from above covered her!
She jerked in surprise as two talons gripped her shoulder joints. Angry that some randy bronze had intruded upon her flight with Gesilith, she folded her left wing and flipped over, talons out to rip into the intruder's tender underbelly.
Gesilith trumpeted his conquest as he twined necks with his beloved, dodging her claws and thrusting home. He extended his wings fully to allow Porth to extend hers beneath him and they rode the thermal for some time to come.
"Boris! Boris! Boris, NOW" Tarrie gasped as the waves of exquisite pleasure washed over her again and built again to wash over her again and again.
Finally spent, Boris collapsed onto Tarrie, murmuring, "What a glorious comeback, my love."
