The chaos of a fall was nothing compared to it's aftermath, Kayta thought to herself.
She worked next to the healers quietly, handing them rolls of gauze and jars of ointment the moment they asked for it. While she wished she could finish the fall like Malena and Gineara, she was needed here more. While they had plenty of lower caverns folk to help – most of the islanders were at a loss. Under Z'char's leadership, the Weyr had only met thread when holds and crops were threatened.. and even then they only did the bare minimum. As a result, losses and injuries were far and few between. The most they might have to deal with was a minor threadscore, or someone who had drank too much wine the night before.
This… this was a whole menagerie of issues. True there were threadscores, but some were far more severe, biting deep into muscle and wing tissue. Sun and heat exhaustion from wearing heavy wherhide in a hot environment. Burns. Bruises. Pulled muscles. Granted it was far superior than previous falls that had occurred during R'nahl's tenure, but it was still a mess.
Kayta summoned another dragon healer from one of the Southern Weyrs to assist their own dragon healer, and prodded some of the more dependable lower caverns folk into action. Once that was accomplished she returned to helping where needed.
By early evening, things had improved significantly. Once the injured riders and their dragons were settled, she entered the dining caverns. Forgoing her seat at the head table, she plopped down in the closest available spot and tucked into the meal someone slid in front of her.
"Weyrwoman." N'bel said, easing himself down on to the bench next to her.
"Weyrlingmaster." She replied around a mouthful of food, not caring how improper it was.
He snorted at that. "Rough day."
"But not as bad as others."
"Could've been better." He nodded his thanks at the weyrbrat who brought him a plate of food. "We had high hopes for that brownrider of yours."
"He's only been in power for a month. Give him a chance." She gulped down the klah that had been served with her dinner, grateful for the small burst of energy it gave her. Now, maybe, she could find the strength to stagger back to her weyr. But it was clear that N'bel wasn't done with whatever he had to say. She sighed. "Have you tried speaking with him?"
"I would if he would listen. He made it very clear though that he doesn't want our advice."
Kayta didn't believe that; in her experience R'nahl was the intractable one – not N'kar. Yes she and he might be on the outs, but she doubted he would ever turn away another rider unless… "When you spoke to him were you trying to meddle in things that were better left alone?"
"I've no idea what you're talking about."
"And you assumed that because he gave you the cold shoulder over that, he wouldn't listen to you about anything else, didn't you?"
"He made his opinion very clear."
She rolled his eyes. "I think you're full of it old man." She stood, stepping over the bench. "Fine. Where is he?"
Kayta found the brownrider in the records room, bent over a stack of hides with even more spread out across the table in front of him. He was so agitated from the outcome of the fall that he had not stripped out of his riding leathers yet - probably rushing straight here as soon as he had dismounted from Elanth - nor could he even be bothered to sit. Instead he stood as he studied the faded words, the sweat dripping off of his brow making them even more illegible. "N'kar?"
He waved a hand vaguely in her direction, though it was impossible to tell if it was a dismissal or an acknowledgment of her presence. The movement made him hiss and wince in pain and Kayta studied his back, looking for the source. The right shoulder of his wherhide jacket was blackened, but he was too tall for her to see the severity of the wound from this angle.
She touched his back gently, trying not to irritate the injury any further. "You should see the healers."
He shook his head, "There are others who need their help more."
"They've been seen to," She reassured him.
"Good. Good. Two dragons and their riders lost between, three dragons with threadscored wings. Then there's at least twenty severe scores, and ten who got caught in the cross flame." He finally looked down at her, accentuating each point by tapping his forefinger on the scroll spread out beneath his hands. "Oh and one dislocated shoulder from some dimglow catching a bag of firestone wrong. This on top of all the wounds from the previous threadfalls flown under R'nahl's command."
"The last thing we need to add to that list is one weyrleader incapacitated due to fever."
He flipped a particularly delicate hide over with a bit more force than necessary. So much so that the corner broke off in his fingertips from the abuse. "I'm fine."
"Liar." She slipped underneath his arm and between him and the table, forcing him to take a step back. Before he could protest, she quickly undid the fasteners holding the front of his wherhide jacket and eased it off his shoulders. "Let me help."
The brownrider hissed as the fabric lining scraped over his wound, and his tunic and shirt followed. He stared down at her, his jaw clenched, before giving in and sitting so that Kayta could inspect the wound. "Stubborn woman."
"Stubborn man." She shot back as she gave his shoulder a once over. Thankfully, it appeared to be shallow. While the edges where tinged with black, the inside was more red and raw. It oozed blood slowly, which meant that Elanth had been fast in taking his rider Between. Unfortunately it was speckled with bits of ash - that would be difficult to clean. She hoped that his refusal to seek out a healer didn't doom him to infection. "You're not the first, nor will you be the last."
"So people like to remind me. Do you have any numbweed with you, or am I going to loose my shirt and the wine to this?" He jerked his head at the skin sitting next to a couple of rolls on top of a hide.
"Luckily I came prepared." Kayta patted the pocket that she had stuffed full while helping Berjoi earlier. "You might want to take a swig though."
He did as she suggested, finishing the wine off as she got to work. She tried to bathe the wound gently with redwort, but to remove some of the ash she had to dig in a little harder than she intended. Each time N'kar would grit his teeth, the muscles of his jaw tightening and his skin tensing under her touch.
"You've had experience with this before."
"I helped Berjoui once or twice. Not like I was able to do anything else during falls."
"Mm." His jaw clenched again, but this time it wasn't in pain. "The rest of the leaders will think we are a failure."
"No they won't."
"The numbers don't lie."
She touched his chin, forcing him to look back at her. "You're being too hard on yourself. You've only been here for six months - six! - and most of those were during the rainy season. Between that, and how infrequently thread falls over us, we've only risen to fight maybe a handful of times since your arrival, and only two of those were under your command. R'nahl had just as many his first fall here. If not more."
He grunted at that. "Even after a handful of falls, there should be some improvement. And yet here we are. If this pattern keeps up, we'll have to request reinforcements from the mainland. And double up on drilling since we can't work together as a team."
"No."
"No?"
"More drills are not going to solve anything. Our riders are not idiots. They know what to do."
"Then what would you suggest?"
"Give them more downtime. They need to be able to relax. They need to know that they're trusted." Now that his wound was finally clean, she began to slather on the numbweed. However he remained tense under her touch.
"I had hoped that the steps I have taken to include the islanders would have shown them that things are different now."
"One flight does not automatically fix things. Especially not when the wounds run deep. Thankfully this does not." She wrapped a bandage loosely about the threadscore, so it was protected, but could still breathe, and looped it over his shoulder and around his middle to hold it in place. Once the ends were knotted together, she stepped back to survey her handiwork. "There. All set."
N'kar leaned back in his chair slowly, being careful not to inadvertently mess up the bandage. "If drills and flights will not fix things, what do you suggest oh wise one? A gather?"
"Why not?"
"You're mad."
"Am I? We have much to celebrate. Lysith has risen, there will be eggs on the sands, and the spring crops should be sprouting soon. It will do both the holders and the riders good."
"F'lar and Lessa would not approve."
"F'lar and Lessa are not here. And after the way we told them off the other day, I doubt we'll be seeing them any time soon."
He sighed. "I should apologize for that."
"Why? They were out of line for insinuating that you were incapable of doing this job. Stop concerning yourself with what they think, since they obviously have no care for -"
"They were my Weyrleaders for over twenty turns, Kayta." He snapped "It's hard to just ignore their opinions anymore than you can ignore N'bel's."
He had her there. "All I am saying is that they are not in our position. For the past six months it has been nothing but work, work, work - the Island dragonriders have had nothing to look forward too. They must feel like they are being punished."
"Some of them certainly deserve it."
She pressed a hand against his mouth, silencing him. "What happened to one Weyr?"
He grimaced, then captured her hand with his own and pulled it away so he could speak again. "You're right. It's been rough these past few weeks. It's easy to fall in to old habits as a result of that."
"So I've heard."
"Who ratted me out? N'bel?" Something in her expression must have confirmed his guess for he snorted. "Stubborn old man."
"He's not the first and he won't be the last." She repeated. "Why have you not headed his advice?"
"I don't know what he lead you to believe, but he didn't come to me to talk about thread. He came to me about you."
"I had a feeling it was something along those lines."
"And yet you seek to chastise me anyways?"
"As you said, old habits are hard to forget."
"So much for one Weyr then." N'kar rubbed his hands over his face. "Maybe there are too many ghosts here for things to continue. Maybe we should let this Weyr disband."
Kayta felt her stomach drop, it's contents rolling in horror. "You can't honestly believe that."
"And you can't honestly believe that we'll succeed! Your queen will never lay a gold egg while Elanth flies her. Do you honestly want that for her? Every fall brings new injuries-"
"So does every fall on the mainland!"
"Our men can barely talk to each other. I have one spat with N'bel because I didn't want him sticking his nose someplace it doesn't belong and he decides to withhold information that could have helped us!" Somewhere outside Lysith bugled her frustration and Elanth answered her. "We can barely get along as it is."
"Other Weryleaders have had their issues and their Weyrs have survived for ages."
"I won't be another T'bor and Kylara."
"Good, because we're not them no more than we're F'lar and Lessa. We're something new. Something that has not been seen since dragons were first created." She licked her lips. "You asked for my suggestions, here it is; talk to your bronzeriders. Yes, N'bel and M'rocav can be difficult, but they know more about how the weather and wind can affect thread here than you can find in any record.
As for the others, yes they've made mistakes, but drilling them day in and day out is not the answer. While I know they are grateful that you do not push them like R'nahl did, it's still too much. Did you drill this much at Benden? It's time to let them be men again and live. It's time for us all to live."
"Is that how you've felt? With Maelena and R'nahl? With me? That we were punishing you?" N'kar's gaze was too intense for her to hold so she glanced away.
"A bit."
"A lot I'd wager."
She pushed away from the table and turned, starting to collect her things and tuck them back into the pockets she had pulled them from. "I am well aware that I have wronged many people over the years. Maelena and Gineara for not letting them know I was alive. The Islanders for letting Z'char run mad for so long. You, for lying to you about who I was, what I was, and for Wen. And yet, even though I have apologized, even though I have tried to make things better by giving in time and time again, I am never forgiven. Do we not deserve a little mercy?"
The chair scraped against the ground as he stood, and she felt the heat of him along her back. He reached out, stilling her hands with his own. "I have forgiven you."
"Have you? The words never passed your lips. You avoid me as much as possible. Every decision about the Weyr is made by you, with no input from me. You never -" She stopped, biting back the words before they could escape.
"I never what?"
"I am as much alone as I was before." The hairs at the back of her neck danced against her skin with his soft exhale, and she immediately regretted saying anything. She forced herself to smile, trying to take the sting out of her earlier words. "At least someone more capable sits in the Weyrleader chair this time. I'll go and let you continue your work. Shall I have Lysith summon M'rocav and R'nahl?"
He refused to budge when she tried to pull away, keeping her crowded against the table. "No. Stay."
She licked her lips again. "Alright."
"I have not sought you out because I was angry. Not about before - I understood that you were just doing what you had to to survive - but about Wen as you call her. I had been searching for Llydwen for so long, and to find out that she was here all along, and that you knew and did not say anything. I trusted you Kayta. I thought we were making some progress and..." He sighed. "I understand now that you were only doing what she asked and what she wanted. That what we were had ended long ago. But it still stung. Whatever her and I had, it was... was never good. I suppose I wanted a resolution more than anything."
Kayta snorted. "Kicking her out is your idea of a resolution?"
"Is that what the lower caverns folk are saying?"
"You know how they talk."
"Then let them know I didn't kick her out. I took her to her husband."
She spun around to face him at that. "He lives?"
"Aye, he was one of the group that M'taren took to the mainland. That group you were following when you kissed me."
She grimaced, "Actually I kissed you because I didn't want Malena to see me."
He chuckled. "I figured as much later. But I didn't understand why you were there until a few days ago, when I met the men."
"Hopefully she can be happy now. What Z'char did..." Kayta shook her head not wanting to put such vile things into words. If they ever caught the man he should be strung up during a fall for thread to eat – but she knew it would never happen. Such punishments never occurred to dragonriders.
"Are they really saying I kicked her out?"
"All of that, and that is all you remember? Has the wine kicked in, or are you feverish?" She attempted to feel his forehead but he dodged her, grabbing her hand and pinning it back to the table.
"Here I thought they would say I dropped her in between to get back into your good graces again."
"They think it's because she wasn't pulling her weight. They think you're heartless and a hard task master like R'nahl, but they don't think you're a monster like Z'char was."
"I'll have to stumble around drunk more."
She smacked his good shoulder for that. "Well you're certainly doing a good enough job right now."
"What are we going to do about this mess, my Weyrwoman?"
"Well you could take my advice. Let the others have their freedom. Listen to N'bel and M'rocav."
"Done and done."
"Berjoui and I will deal with the gossip in the kitchens."
"That is the least of my concerns."
"Oh?"
"How do we fix us? Or have I ruined it before it even had a chance to begin?"
Kayta studied him, her gaze flicking between his eyes before dropping down to the curve of his mouth. She pressed her lips against his gently, and he responded with an equal amount of tenderness, cupping the back of her head in his hands to guide the angle and intensity of the kiss. However it wasn't long before the ardor between them rose and she found herself pushed down on to the table. The records and jars of ointment fell to the floor with a crash, and for a moment she considered pushing the brownrider aside to grab them before they could get ruined. As he said earlier, it was hard to forget old habits, and every little bit counted with so many injuries, but N'kar quickly convinced her that her attention was needed elsewhere, and they were promptly forgotten as she arched into his touch.
Their dragons hummed their approval from their posts under the stars outside.
