Tales from the Weyrlings' Barracks Chapter 7
It turned out that P'llomar had strained more than a leg muscle when he fell. In truth, between flailing while he fell and landing awkwardly on Cabenth, he'd strained nearly every muscle and fiber in his body. The Weyr's Healer prescribed three days of bed rest, then a week of limited duty, before he tried anything more strenuous than scratching his dragon's eye ridges.
He waited impatiently for his three days to pass so he could get out of bed. He watched from the sidelines as the other weyrlings played games and ran drills to strengthen themselves and intensify the bonds to their dragons. He stayed on the ground while the others climbed to the Hatching Grounds and sent their dragons on practice flights... and sometimes, Talina joined them, sending her gold Arwith on those practice flights. He watched other riders take the role of First Green, with limited success. He worked on making and perfecting his fighting straps and his dragon's harness because he had nothing else to do. He would have broken his limited duty a dozen different ways, except that Ladrarth promised to inform the Weyrlingmaster if he stepped out of line.
I want you to be healthy and strong. We will soon fly together.
"If the Healer lets me!" P'llomar spat.
I think he wants you to be healthy and strong, too.
On the fifth day, as the weyrlings were breaking up after a game of ballkick, B'irto stopped next to the bench where P'llomar sat. "That stuff you said about liking my dragon. Did you really mean it?"
"Every word of it," P'llomar assured him. "Your Cabenth didn't just save my life; he risked his own life with a crazy maneuver to do it. I'm not going to forget something like that, ever."
"Huh. Okay," B'irto said as he rejoined the others. P'llomar didn't think much about the encounter.
The next day, after putting the weyrlings through some exercises, K'lune got their attention. "Today is a big day for your dragons," he told them, "and a big day for you as well. Today, if all goes well, you will be relieved of one of your biggest chores!" He waited for a response. The weyrlings looked happy, but uncertain.
Finally, B'irto raised his hand. "Which chore are you talking about?"
"I'm talking about feeding your dragons, of course!" the Weyrlingmaster answered. "Today, now that your dragons can fly, they can learn how to feed themselves!"
That set off a heartfelt cheer. Supplying their growing dragons with enough chunks of meat to sate their appetites had nearly become a full-time job, especially for the bronze and brown riders. They all knew that it was possible for a land-bound dragon to chase down a herdbeast on the ground. But the process was so slow compared to pouncing from the air that the rest of the herd would be desperately panicked, and many of the herdbeasts would injure themselves by the time a second dragon was ready to try his luck. Taking their prey from the air was much easier on the prey.
Not only that, but the dragons wanted to hunt in true dragon style. I will enjoy doing this, Ladrarth told P'llomar. This is how dragons are supposed to eat.
"We'll go in dragon-size order, but with a difference," K'lune went on. "The bronzes will go first in the herdbeast pens, while the greens will try their luck at the same time with the wherries. The smaller dragons don't need as much to eat as the bigger ones, and some of the greens will be full and happy after one wherry. There's no reason to make the small dragons wait all day when they can get their meal at the same time as the big ones." That got the green riders into a positive frame of mind after months of going last in everything.
"Okay, then! There are no secret techniques to dragons catching and eating their own food. There is one significant thing to be aware of, though: unlike most life skills, a dragon doesn't come out of its shell with a complete knowledge of how to catch something that doesn't want to be caught. It's a skill that they have to learn, very much the way children have to learn to feed themselves. That means that their first few attempts are going to be sloppy and ineffective. Don't be startled if your dragon misses his first pounce; don't scold him or act like something is wrong. Encourage him to try again, and if you can offer him any advice, don't hesitate to do it. This will be the first time you get to be the teachers and your dragons will be the learners. I'll be watching to see which dragons are the most effective hunters, and that will tell me which of you are the most effective teachers.
"B'irto! Send your bronze to the herdbeast pens. V'ger! Send your green to the wherries. It's lunchtime for the dragons!" The big bronze and the small green took wing (awkwardly; they were still working on taking off from flat land) and half-flapped, half-glided over the livestock pens.
Their presence set off a desperate stampede among the livestock. Bronze Cabenth kept lining up on a potential meal, only to see it run away before he could finish pouncing on it. V'ger's green was more nimble; her chosen meal tried to scramble away, but she made a tight turn and knocked it down with her tail. Then she jumped on it, killed it by snapping its neck, and began tearing into it.
"First blood to the greens!" K'lune shouted. "All of you, watch how that green is eating the first meal she ever caught herself." They all watched; many of them turned away after a few seconds, having seen more than they wanted to.
K'lune shook his head. "Oh, did I forget to mention that dragons are very messy eaters? How thoughtless of me. Those of you who are Weyrbred have probably seen scenes like this in the past. For the ones who are Holdbred and Craftbred, this may be something new. You'd better start getting used to it, because your own dragons are going to eat just like this, every time you feed them, no exceptions. T'mac, it's your turn. Send your dragon into the wherry pens."
P'llomar was intently watching all this. He wanted to see how greens naturally hunted, and how wherries naturally evaded, so he could give Ladrarth some good advice when it was her turn. He was also watching Cabenth as he repeated tried and failed to catch a herdbeast. It had to be possible for such a big dragon to catch his prey, or the fighting dragons couldn't do it, but Cabenth was really struggling. P'llomar watched him try and fail again, and thought he saw the problem.
He sidled over to where B'irto was standing and shouting encouragement to his dragon. He quietly told the bronze rider, "It might help if you tell him to strike from lower altitude, so the herdbeasts don't have so much time to get away." B'irto jumped – he had been completely intent on his dragon, and he hadn't heard P'llomar approaching – and glared suspiciously at his former nemesis. He thought it over for a few seconds, then looked toward Cabenth intently. The big dragon broke off his pass, dropped to barely forty feet off the ground while he circled back, and pounced. This time, he didn't miss.
A cheer went up from the bronze and brown riders as the first bronze tore into his supper; he instinctively knew how to devour a meal that hadn't already been chopped into pieces for his convenience. "Well done, Cabenth!" K'lune shouted. "Next bronze, into the livestock pens!"
P'llomar returned to watching the greens; it was almost his own dragon's turn. "Ladrarth, did you see that?" he thought to his dragon. "Wherries don't dodge from side to side when a dragon drops on them. Their escape move is to keep going in the same direction and run faster. Come up behind one, and aim for just ahead of where you think he'll be."
I will try that.
Ladrarth waited until the previous green had caught its prey after three tries. He took to the air, circled around to the back of the wherry pen where the frightened creatures were trying to hide from the previous dragon, and picked out a fine, fat one. He made his attack the way his rider had suggested, and succeeded in a cloud of dust and feathers.
Thank you for the good advice. I am very hungry, and I am glad I did not have to try over and over again like the other dragons.
"You're always very hungry!" P'llomar smiled. He admittedly had mixed feelings about the part that came next. His dragon certainly put on a gory display while she devoured her kill. But she was very satisfied, both during the performance and after it, and she couldn't help radiating that satisfaction to her rider.
He noticed that his was the first dragon to score a kill on her first attempt. A few of the other green riders had also noticed the wherries' tendency to run faster when attacked, and shared this information with their dragons, but for most of them, it was a frustrating morning of trial and error. The bigger dragons didn't do any better, although B'irto shared P'llomar's hint with the other bronze and brown riders after those dragons had tried and failed once or twice. Little by little, the training wing was learning to feed itself. By lunchtime, all the dragons had managed to make at least one kill. The bronzes and one big brown were still hungry, but they had to wait until after their riders ate lunch before they were given a second chance.
"We have to let the herds settle down," K'lune explained. "They're in such a panic from all these dragon attacks, they're nearly killing themselves. Give them time to get their fear out of their systems; then you can try again."
"What about the ones whose dragons are already satisfied?" blue rider C'farr asked. "What are we going to do for the rest of the day?"
"Not much, unfortunately," the Weyrmaster admitted. "Your dragons will have stuffed themselves silly, and I sincerely hope you haven't let them overeat!" He glared at P'llomar for a moment. "Anyway, they won't feel like flying, playing, or much of anything else. I'm going to pull some surprise inspections of your flying gear throughout the day, but if you think your gear is already in perfect shape, then you'll be off duty until tomorrow. You can spend some relaxed time with your dragons if you want to. If you have family or friends in the weyr or in the Lower Caverns, this will be a good time to pay them a visit. You can get a game of ballkick together if that's what you want to do, and I won't make up any special rules for you. Once your dragon is full of his first self-caught meal, the rest of the day is yours."
P'llomar wasn't sure how he would use the day. But circumstances helped him decide. As he and Ladrarth walked slowly across the bowl floor, a huge shadow passed over them. It was Ramoth, headed for the livestock pens.
"Hey, would you like to watch how a big female dragon hunts?" he asked his green friend. "Maybe you could learn something."
Perhaps I could. They strolled over to the pens as Ramoth landed and allowed Lessa to dismount, then sprang back into the air and began choosing her first kill. A few other weyrlings joined them, curious to see the biggest dragon on Pern up close. B'irto was among them for a few minutes; then he wandered away. P'llomar was careful to keep some distance between himself and the Weyrwoman. The last time they'd met, she had nearly flayed him with her words. That was his own fault, of course, but he was still not eager for another meeting with her.
Ramoth was not a choosy eater; she tended to pick on beasts that strayed from the herd, rather than selecting the biggest or the fattest. After three herdbeasts and a wherry, they heard Lessa call, "No, dear heart! I know you think you're still hungry, but you'll feel full in ten minutes if you just wait for your belly to catch up with the rest of you. Save some animals for the rest of the Weyr!" The huge gold took one last bite of her wherry, then reluctantly flew over, collected her rider, and returned to their weyr.
"Ladrarth, did you learn anything from watching Ramoth?" P'llomar asked as they walked away.
I learned that even the largest, most important dragon can overeat sometimes. I still feel bad about what I did, but now I do not feel so guilty about it.
"I guess that's something," P'llomar nodded. His dragon indicated that she would like to lie down and rest, so he spent the rest of the day visiting his parents in their weyr, and his old friends in the Lower Caverns. The friends were proud of him and glad to see him, but something between them had changed. They were the same as they always were, but he was turning into someone different. He wore that indefinable aura of a man who, someday soon, would willingly put his life on the line to protect them all from a mindless, ravening spaceborne parasite that could show no mercy. He wasn't putting on airs or pretending to be important. It was just an inseparable part of becoming a dragon's rider. He lived in a different world from them now, with a different set of goals and priorities. He was no longer one of them.
They all slept soundly that night. Their dragons were full in the belly and contented in their minds, and their riders were lulled to sleep by that contentment. They all knew that the day was fast approaching when they would take their first flights with their dragons, but even the excitement of that thought couldn't keep them awake. A few of the weyrlings' bunks were empty that night. No one commented on it, but it was common knowledge that some of the young riders had romantic partners in the Lower Caverns. K'lune's training schedule left everyone too exhausted for dalliance on most nights, but they had taken the better part of today off, so tonight was a good night to visit their lovers.
The next morning, as they gathered with their dragons after breakfast, P'llomar heard the laughter of a young woman. He looked over his shoulder... and went rigid. Talina and B'irto were pausing at the mouth of the tunnel that led to the young queens' quarters. They kissed quickly; then B'irto ran to rejoin the other weyrlings, while she turned and headed back to her own weyr.
She had been with him last night!
Black thoughts descended on P'llomar's mind. Jealousy! Hatred! Revenge! How could she see anything in him? He spun and stalked away from the others before old habits rose up again. He didn't want to act like the old Pellomar. But he felt betrayed! He had helped her solve a difficult problem with her dragon, and was this her response? He strode off to a deserted part of the bowl floor. He desperately wanted to be alone.
That was not to be. Ladrarth half-ran, half-flew to his side, her eyes whirling yellow with flecks of purple. What is wrong? she begged.
"Just leave me alone!" he demanded. "I don't want to talk about it."
Have I done something wrong? Why don't you want me near you?
"I said I don't want to talk about it! You wouldn't understand."
Please talk to me! Talking to me always makes you feel better.
"Ladrarth... I can't explain it. It's a human thing. Please! Leaving me alone will make me feel better."
Sadly, the green dragon turned away and slumped back toward the other weyrlings' dragons. P'llomar found a bush to hide behind. He sat down, cradled his chin in his hands, and stared at the rock wall. His heart was a solid, aching lump in his chest.
Talina owed him nothing. She had never shown a shred of interest in him, and he had never expressed an iota of interest in her. She was just a pretty face, an unattainable goal who passed briefly through his life and then moved on. He had no right to feel jealousy. He had no right to feel anything at all toward her! Would he feel differently if she had chosen someone other than B'irto, his onetime rival? His mind spun in useless circles, coming to rest nowhere.
He didn't even notice the approaching footfalls until K'lune sat down next to him. "All right, P'llomar. Talk to me. What's gone wrong?"
P'llomar shifted his position and faced away from the older man. "I'd rather not talk about it."
"That's not an option, green rider. You've upset your dragon, and that's affecting the other dragons. I can't have that. If you won't talk to her, then you will talk to me. Those are your choices."
The younger man sat in silence for a few seconds. K'lune eventually remarked, "Would this have anything to do with Talina's choice of a future weyrmate?"
"How did you know that?" P'llomar gasped.
"You forget – your mind is an open book to your dragon, even if she doesn't understand what you're thinking," the Weyrlingmaster smiled. "My Numath has gotten very adept at asking the right questions to get the facts from upset young dragons." He shifted his position and got comfortable. "What you're going through is not something new and unique. It's something that just about every young man goes through as he approaches adulthood. That knowledge probably won't make you feel any better, but maybe it will help."
"So if my problem is so common," P'llomar muttered, "then what's the solution?"
"Many men would tell you to find a willing kitchen drudge and get it out of your system with her. There must be at least a dozen of them who would jump at the chance to be a dragon rider's weyrmate, even if he's still a weyrling. The big problem with that approach is that, if there's a shred of decency in you, you'll end up feeling dirty when you're done. You'll realize that you used a girl for your own selfish needs, instead of sharing something with her, and you'll wind up feeling even worse than you did before." K'lune flicked a stone at the rock wall in front of them. "I'll be honest with you, P'llomar. I've never found a true cure for a broken heart, except for the passage of time. Sometimes finding someone else will deaden the pain, but those rebound relationships usually don't work out well. You'd have the best of intentions, but deep inside, you'd want that other girl to be Talina, and when she disappoints you, there's no cure for that.
"I do have one useful suggestion, though. You can pour your heart out to your dragon. She may not understand what you're feeling, but she won't judge you, she'll never tell another soul what she hears, and she might be able to help you feel better. When a dragon isn't being driven by hunger or by the mating urge, she is the most sensible creature you'll ever meet. They don't understand the human condition, but Ladrarth understands you better than you realize. Give her a chance."
He rested his hand on the young man's shoulder. "P'llomar, you're my best green rider, and you're turning into a fine young man as well. I hate to see you suffer. But human hearts are like chunks of firestone. Sometimes they burn hot, and sometimes they break. No one has ever found a cure for either condition. Just talk to your dragon. If nothing else, you'll ease her mind, and I know you don't want to see her upset, no matter what you're going through." He grunted as he got to his feet. "Rejoin the rest of us when you're ready." He strode away.
P'llomar sat and stared at the rocks for another minute or two. At last he thought, "Ladrarth, are you willing to join me by the bush at the far end of the –"
He heard her galloping footsteps before he could finish. She must have been waiting for his invitation. She skidded to a halt next to him and lowered her head so they were eye-to-eye.
Will you tell me what is wrong?
He took a deep breath. "I'm angry and hurt because we helped Talina with her dragon's eating problem, but she chose B'irto as a partner instead of me."
Ladrarth lay down next to him.
She is a gold rider. He is a bronze rider. If his Cabenth caught her Arwith in the air, and they paired off as a result, would you be angry?
"Uhh... not as much, I guess. I mean, that's how it's supposed to work, so getting mad about it would be stupid. Right?"
She did not respond right away. He thought about what he'd just said. B'irto was definitely the most competent bronze rider among the weyrlings, and his dragon was a fine, strong beast. There was a very high chance that Cabenth would, indeed, catch Arwith on her first mating flight. The two of them would probably become weyrmates as a result. Both of them certainly knew this. Was it astonishing that they had gotten a head start on the inevitable?
"It still hurts to lose her," he finally said.
Was she ever yours to lose?
For a bare half a moment, he began to get angry. For a bare half a moment, he wanted to shout, "You don't understand!" But the moment passed, and all he could do was fling his arms around his dragon's neck and sob.
He waited for her to complain about his unmanly display of weakness. He waited for her to scold him for being irrational, for getting angry about a situation that had nothing to do with him, for wanting a queen rider when queen riders always pair off with bronze riders. He waited for her to say anything at all. Finally, she lifted her great head and laid it across his lap.
I am yours, and you will never lose me.
He sat there on the ground, with his arms around his dragon's neck, for nearly an hour. At last, he rose, and they walked together back towards the group. Were the others talking about him in his absence? Probably not; K'lune would have kept them too busy for that. They might be curious where he'd been, but if the Weyrlingmaster didn't comment on it, then they wouldn't waste much energy wondering about him.
As for him, talking to his dragon wasn't a complete cure by any means. But he did feel a little better.
