Tales from the Weyrlings' Barracks Chapter 6
"It's time," the Weyrlingmaster said calmly. All of the weyrlings knew exactly what he meant. It was time for their dragons' first flight!
"Everyone, up to the Hatching Grounds," K'lune ordered. "That's as good a place as any for your dragons to launch themselves into the air for the first time."
"What were we waiting for?" someone demanded. "My dragon has been asking to fly for a week!"
"We were waiting for everyone's dragons to be strong enough to fly," the Weyrlingmaster answered. "Some of your dragons were, indeed, ready weeks ago. But we train as a wing, not as individuals. The ones whose dragons were ready early have learned a few things about patience that I can't teach. But now, it's time! Up you go, now!" Young dragons and young riders eagerly scrambled up the stone stairs that led to the Hatching Ground. There was a bit of jostling as too many dragons vied for too little space on the cliff edge.
"Okay, let's get organized!" K'lune shouted as they reached the top. "Bronzes and browns up front. Everyone else, back away from the edge."
The dragons needed more space than they used to. The greens had grown to the size of an adult runnerbeast by now, while the bronzes were almost as big as a full-grown green. They had to spread their wings to full extension when taking off from a cliff edge. There was no way to fit all those dragons into one cave entrance, huge though that entrance was. The blues and greens reluctantly gave way and backed off from the edge of the cliff.
P'llomar rested his hand on Ladrarth's shoulder. He could feel his dragon quivering with anticipation. She had been one of those dragons who had been ready for weeks, and had waited semi-patiently for the others' wing muscles to catch up with hers.
I want to fly!
"You will, you will! You'll just have to wait your turn."
Can't you tell me to ask those other dragons to step aside and make room for me? You are good at making dragons obey you.
"It would be very wrong if I did that. The Weyrlingmaster said that the big dragons go first, and we have to obey him."
Doesn't the Weyrlingmaster want me to fly?
P'llomar waved his hand around the cave entrance. "He wants all of these dragons to fly! But there's only room for a few to try it at a time, and the big dragons are probably going to push their way to the front anyway, because that's what bronzes and browns do. So we might as well let them go first. It will be only a few minutes more. We can wait that long."
I have been waiting all my life!
He smiled and rubbed her neck for a moment. "You'll still be alive when it's your turn. I promise."
Someone hissed, "Everybody, keep your voices down! We're right next to the Hatching Sands, remember? We don't want to disturb Ramoth or make her angry."
"Ramoth isn't on the Hatching Sands," K'lune corrected him loudly; his voice echoed in the cavern. "You just Impressed her last clutch six months ago, remember? You don't think she's laid another clutch in that short a time, do you?"
"I guess not," said the unknown whisperer.
The two bronzes in the training wing, including B'irto's Cabenth, would fly first. "Do I need to tell him anything so he can fly?" B'irto asked.
"When a dragon comes out of his shell, he already knows everything he needs to know about aviation," K'lune answered. "He just has to wait for his wing muscles to catch up with him. No, you don't have to tell your dragon anything. Just stand back and watch him fly!"
B'irto did just that. A moment later, Cabenth rushed to the edge of the cave, spread his wings wide, and stepped off into nothing. For a moment, he dropped straight down and out of sight, which made some of the other riders nervous. But then he reappeared, gliding smoothly and trumpeting for sheer joy. He flapped twice and gained some height. B'irto leaped and shouted.
"Tell him to circle the Bowl and not go any further!" K'lune cautioned B'irto. "His wing muscles haven't borne his entire weight before. We don't want him getting worn out when he's a mile away from here, landing in some holder's field, and having to walk all the way home!" B'irto passed the word to his dragon, who swung to the right and began orbiting the edges of the Weyr, experimenting with gaining and losing altitude.
P'llomar had a question. "Sir… about that landing-in-a-field part. Does that happen to weyrlings very often?"
"As far as I know," K'lune answered with a rueful smile, "it has happened exactly once. To a dragon named Numath! Who's next to fly?" The other bronze stepped up eagerly.
Will you be as excited as B'irto when I fly?
"No," P'llomar promised Ladrarth. "I'll be much more excited than him!"
The other bronze took wing, followed by the four browns at regular intervals. Then it was the turn of the blues, and they took longer because there were eight of them. While they waited, V'ger asked, "After our dragons get used to flying, can we ride them today?"
"Well, that depends," K'lune answered with a smile that promised frustration. "Have you made your harnesses and your flying straps yet?" Of course they hadn't. The weyrlings' faces fell. Several of them groaned.
"Nobody flies unless they're strapped in," the Weyrlingmaster said dogmatically. "No exceptions. Tomorrow, I will begin to teach you how to make your harnesses and straps. It starts by measuring your dragon. Then comes the leatherwork, followed by an inspection that lets absolutely nothing get by. Then you'll be fitted for flying clothes, and taught how to put on the harness and attach the straps blindfolded. Only then will you be cleared for simple flight."
"Don't the Weyrs have Tanners who can do the leatherwork for us?" T'mac wondered.
"Yes, they do, but you're going to make your own first set of straps, for one very good reason," K'lune told him. "Your life will depend on those straps, and we can't call on the Mastertanner to inspect them every time you get ready to fly. You need to know, down to the last stitch, how those straps are made and how they function. You're the only one who is going to check them and make sure they're in good working order, so you need to make a set and get perfectly familiar with them."
"What happens when my dragon outgrows his harness?" V'ger asked.
"You will make a bigger harness," K'lune answered readily. "You weyrlings are going to make your own harnesses and your own straps, as often as you have to do so, until you officially join a fighting wing. The Weyr Tanners are kept full-time busy replacing Threadscored and battle-worn leather for the fighting dragons. They don't have time to keep up with a pack of fast-growing hatchlings. That will be your job. Trust me – if you've never had to fly with leatherwork that you haven't checked out yourself, then you don't know the meaning of the word 'nervous.' You'll be glad that you can make your own harnesses before much time has gone by."
Finally, it was the greens' turn. "Who goes first?" T'mac asked.
"Line up by the rider's height, with the shortest ones first," K'lune decided. That put P'llomar at the end of the line. He sighed, but he admitted that there was some justice in doing it that way. Usually, the shortest riders got the short end of the stick when it came to sleeping spots, seats in the dining hall, and being chosen for team games. It was fair to let them go first for a change. Fair, but frustrating!
P'llomar stepped away from his dragon and watched as the others took flight. He had seen dragons flying hundreds of times, but always from beneath them. This was the first time he'd had a chance to see a dragon in the air from above. He couldn't see their legs, but he could see their eyes and their faces, and they looked much more graceful than he'd realized. He waited with barely-preserved patience as each green stepped to the edge, spread her wings, and jumped off. At last, it was Ladrarth's turn.
She glanced at him for a moment, then straightened her neck, spread her wings, ran, and jumped. She was so beautiful! As she stopped falling and began to truly fly, P'llomar leaped for joy, pumping his fist and shouting, "Yes! Fly! You're flying! Go! Go! G–AAAAHH!" He'd gotten too close to the edge of the cliff, part of the rocky edge crumbled under his jumping, and he fell.
All the dragons heard him. Ladrarth had just taken off and still had too little airspeed; if she tried to turn and dive to catch him, she would surely stall, maybe even crash-land. She tried it anyway, but she had acquired no skill in the air as yet. She spun, and her efforts to stabilize herself took her away from her falling friend. The dragon with the best chance of catching him was Cabenth, who was nearly up to the cave entrance in his circling. He folded his wings and dove, but realized that P'llomar was falling too close to the rock wall, and Cabenth couldn't get more than a wingtip under him to catch him.
Somehow, the young bronze rolled ninety degrees and turned himself sideways in the air, so his wings were pointing straight up and down, and hugged the cliff wall until P'llomar landed awkwardly on his neck and upper body. As soon as he felt the human get a grip on him, he pulled away from the cliff and rolled right-side-up, and glided down to the Bowl floor. P'llomar had been holding on with one arm and one leg, but he scrambled into a more conventional riding posture, both to ease the dragon's burden and for the sake of his own peace of mind. He was still ghastly white and shaking when Cabenth landed. He slid off the dragon's back, felt his legs turn to jelly, and collapsed in a heap on the ground.
The dragons all landed around him, eager to get some news to relay to their riders, who were rushing down the stone steps even faster than they'd gone up. Ladrarth pushed her way through them so she could stand next to him. "I'm okay," he gasped. "I'm okay. I think." He got to his hands and knees, then pulled himself upright by holding onto Ladrarth's neck. He continued to cling to her; he was nowhere near ready to stand on his own.
I tried to catch you! I tried! I tried so hard!
"I know you did," he thought to her. "Don't feel bad. If it wasn't your very first flight, I know you could have caught me."
The other weyrlings began to arrive and gather around him, staring at him for any sign that he'd been injured. Aside from having strained a leg muscle when the other leg went out from underneath him, he didn't think he'd taken any harm from the fall. But he still couldn't stand by himself.
The Weyrlingmaster caught up with him next, and P'llomar expected a royal tongue-lashing of the same caliber as the one Lessa had given him. But, after bespeaking Ladrarth via Numath to make sure that P'llomar was all right, K'lune just shook his head. "Up there in the cave, someone asked me if you could go flying a-dragonback today, and I said 'no.' I apologize for being mistaken. P'llomar just did." He faced P'llomar. "As you said to me recently, that's doing it the hard way."
"No argument," P'llomar managed to say.
B'irto was the last one to join the scene, due to his short legs. He stormed up to P'llomar and demanded, "So you even had to ride my dragon before I did?!"
P'llomar began to apologize, but Ladrarth cut him off. He is not really angry. He is proud of his dragon, and relieved for you.
"If I… could take it back… I would," he finally panted out. "That's… an awesome dragon you've got."
"He's the best dragon in the world!" B'irto crowed.
P'llomar glanced at Ladrarth and somehow managed half a smile. "I don't know about that… but I learned one thing for sure today."
"You're never going to dance on the edge of a cliff again?" K'lune suggested.
"Okay, I learned two things for sure today." He hesitantly let go of his dragon and stood on two wobbling legs. "The other thing is that, now, I know who my second-favorite dragon is!"
It was obvious from B'irto's face that he considered that the highest praise he'd ever received.
o
Jaxom paid yet another visit to the stable that had become Ruth's own private weyr. The young Lord-to-be could not get enough of the sight of his white dragon, or the spicy smell of his hide, or the sound of his voice in his mind. Ruth had grown to the size of a normal hatchling by now, and, in spite of everyone's predictions of gloom and doom, Jaxom was beginning to think that his dragon was not destined for an early death after all. He knew that Ruth's presence caused Lytol deep distress, but he couldn't do anything about that. All he could do was to love his dragon, and all Ruth could do at this time was love him back.
Tell me the story of how we came to be together, Ruth asked him. Jaxom had told him that story several times, but Ruth never seemed to tire of it.
"Well, it started when Felessan and I sneaked into the Hatching Ground through a hidden back passage," he began. "He wanted to show me the eggs while Ramoth was out of the Grounds, hunting for her meal. I saw one little egg, away from the others, all by itself."
Was that my egg?
"Yes, that was your egg. For some reason, I was more interested in that egg than in all of the bigger ones put together."
Did you feel sorry for me because my egg was small?
"No, that's not it. I think it's because I'm also small and I get overlooked a lot. I guess I looked at you, and I saw myself. I didn't feel sorry for you. I just wanted good things to happen to you, the same way I hope good things will happen to me when I'm older. Anyway, I touched the egg. Felessan said I shouldn't, so I touched it again anyway. Then we heard Ramoth coming back, so we ran for it and… that was a whole 'nother adventure.
"A while later, we were invited to the Hatching. I saw all the other eggs hatch and watched the dragons impress their riders. They looked so happy! I'd never been that happy before; I didn't know how it felt. Then there was that whole mess with Brekke trying to re-Impress, and how her fire lizard wouldn't let her… it was kind of scary to watch, but they said she finally snapped out of her depression and came alive again, so maybe it was worth it.
"Anyway, all the regular eggs were hatched, and the candidates who Impressed dragons all looked so happy, and everybody was leaving, but that one little egg hadn't hatched yet. I could see it moving, just like the big eggs, but nothing else was happening. I really felt bad about that, especially because of the way I was born."
How were you born?
Jaxom realized that he had never told Ruth about that part of his past. "My mother died while she was giving birth to me. They had to… take me out of her. If they hadn't done that, I would have died before I was born."
So that is why you said, "You want to be born, just like me. You just need a little help. Same as me?"
"Yes, that's why I said that," Jaxom said, blinking back some sudden moisture in his eyes. "I suddenly felt like that little egg and I were cut from the same cloth. I didn't even think about what might happen after you came out of the shell. I just had to get you out. That was all that mattered to me."
What did you think would happen once I was hatched?
"I honestly didn't think about it. I suppose one of the hatching candidates would have seen you and run over to you, and he would have Impressed you, and you would have made him as happy as all the other candidates. I never dreamed that you'd look at me that way. I really didn't have a plan, beyond saving your life. I just didn't know what would happen."
I am very, very glad that you saved my life.
"So am I! That is one thing that I do know for sure."
