M'gi and Rekouth materialized above the tiny cothold, brilliant blue against the pale gray clouds that obscured the sun. Below, ovines in the close cropped summer coats grazed contentedly, blissfully unaware of the dragonpair above.
If you can, land downwind of the herdbeasts No reason to put their livelihood off their feed. M'gi told his blue, who acknowledged wordlessly by circling. The Search dragon was off color his hide taking on a little of the sky's pallor in response to the hatchling deaths. M'gi was grateful for this task, as it kept his beloved mind-mate from dwelling on the deaths.
Who did the Weyrwoman want me to look at? Rekouth asked, neatly landing inside the padlock attached to the cot where the runner would have been pastured. He was proud of his tight landings, frequently putting smaller greens to shame with his talent for landing on hard to reach ledges, to check for escaped door of the cot burst open and three girls tumbled out, all racing to the padlock, but politely, warily even, waiting on the other side of the wooden fence.
"Is it Charrie?" The littlest girl asked.
"No..." The older two, twins, identical but for the color of their aprons, replied in unison.
These girls, if I don't miss my mark. M'gi replied, and slapped Rekouth's neck affectionately.
They are very young... Rekouth replied doubtfully, lowing his great head to peer at the girls would stared back unflinchingly. Yellow apron giggled.
"Hello! Is this the cot of Herder Reelon and Healer Gwedli?" M'gi asked casually, sliding down Rekouth's side. The older girls nodded, and the youngest added "They're our Ma and Pa."
"Well, could I speak with one of them?" M'gi asked, walking up to the padlock gate and opening it. Not receiving an answer he closed it behind him, even as the irony of closing the gate on a flying creature quirked his lips.
"Sure." The twins agreed, but didn't move, admiring the dragon sitting in the padlock, his tail curled around his forelegs patiently.
I promise not to leave if one of you will fetch either of them. Rekouth told the girls, his eyes speeding up slightly, divining the cause of the lack of action.
"Oh, ok. I can get Pa." One of the twins, brown apron, skipped back inside.
"Is it really cold between Master Blue?" The younger girl asked. "Because you look really cold, mebbe even frostbit." She ignored her sister's attempt to shush her.
It is bitterly cold between, bluerider's sister. Rekouth agreed. But I am gray because I am sad.
"Oh... please don't be sad," the older girl said, reaching between the rails to pat the blue's foreleg.
"Yeah, don't be sad, we love you!" The youngest chimed in, and also pet his leg. M'gi bit his lip, not sure whether he was trying to keep from laughing or crying at the sight of the two girls trying to comfort his blue.
You are very kind. Rekouth's green spinning eyes turned a hue bluer. M'gi, all of these girls are very receptive. M'gi replied mentally nodding. It was a truism of the Search, most children were receptive to the gentle mind-touch of dragons. Whether it was a condition that lasted into puberty was another thing entirely.
"Ah, bluerider, Master Blue, good day to you." Reelon said, emerging from the cothold, following his excited daughter who turned to Rekouth and said "I brought him! Do you know my sister and her blue?"
I met Vaeth this morning. He is very fond of your sister. The blue replied to all three girls, as M'gi introduced himself to Reelon.
"M'gi and Rekouth of Telgar, sir. The Weyrwoman asked me to collect anything extra of Charel's that you wish her to have while she's Weyr-bound." M'gi explained with the air of this being something of a daily occurrence.
"We bundled Charrie's things last night." Yellow apron said, and the two men turned to see all three girls inside the padlock, rubbing Rekouth behind the eyeridges. The blue positively radiated pleasure. M'gi bit his lip, this time to keep from laughing.
Nice harem you have there, Rekouth. He teased the dragon, who merely responded with a burst of satisfaction.
"Should I be worried that he's going to become a permanent fixture in my padlock?" Reelon asked easily.
"Naw, he's a big loveable lump is all." M'gi grinned and shook his head. "If you'd like me to pass on some personal correspondence to your girl, I can wait for you to write it up."
Reelon looked at the bluerider, a little taken aback at the offer. "I thank you, M'gi of Rekouth. With the baby being born I hadn't given a whole lot of thought to much of anything." He looked to his daughters.
"Relecca," brown apron looked up, "get some refreshments for our guest. Durzi," yellow apron nodded, "a table and chairs, out here, that he may enjoy his rest with his dragon. Tiblet, get my writing things, quietly please, so you don't wake the baby." Reelon glanced back at M'gi. "Forgive me for a moment, I'd like to tell my mate of your presence." He explained as the girls scattered to their tasks, before he returned to cot.
Gwedli, resting in their bed, smiled sleepily as he related all that had occurred outside in hushed tones, their youngest, a little boy, sleeping in a cradle next to the bed.
"Tell Charrie I'll write shortly." She murmured, and squeezed his hand. The baby tried to be born breeched, but, Reelon, a veteran of many breeched births with herdbeasts, turned the baby with minimal discomfort to Gwedli.
"I will, my heart." He whispered, and gave her a whiskery kiss before returning below.
There, he discovered, much to his and M'gi's chagrin, the girls had decided to make a mini-Gather of it, the big table set up against the fence, five chairs set around it, all facing the blue, and a small feast laid out. His writing utensils sitting atop several sheets of homemade vellum sat in one chair, while M'gi explained to the girls what Charel was most likely doing as they set out the last of the food and drink. M'gi smiled sheepishly as Reelon approached.
"You flatter me and Rekouth with such hospitality." He said, as Durzi offered him a skin of chilled water.
"Guests are few and far between out here." Reelon replied sardonically, sitting to pen a letter to Charel.
It took a lot of soothing, but eventually Ofsee was calmed enough to retire to Jurille's weyr. Deerith settled down with the Telgar queens and slept, the first real sleep, according to her rider, that she had since the halls pulled their people.
Jurille asked Graesth to summon Zandur, as the younger queenrider's color wasn't good, then got to the meat of the matter regarding the Hatching.
"Eight green, four blues and two browns. The two that went between were a bronze and a brown- not that he cares, few rivals for his bronze." Ofsee said bitterly. "We had exactly sixteen candidates, four of whom I thought were too young, only nine and ten Turns old, and of course not a one of them impressed." She shook her head, "the women from the Lower Caverns that Impressed, all good woman that staid after the browns revolted."
"What do you mean, the browns revolted?" Jurille asked, pouring her a cup of iced water.
"A Turn after I Impressed, all the Wingseconds took a stand against C'seld, saying his treatment of the folk in the Lower Caverns was deplorable and his demands exceeded tithe obligations. C'seld laughed at them, finally provoking one of them D'inae, I think is his name, to a duel. D'inea was from the clutch before Deerith's. He didn't stand a chance. C'seld beat him black and blue, then ordered him out of the Weyr. I heard he transferred to Igen..." She closed her eyes for a moment. "That broke the spirit of the fighting colors, and we've been on eggshells around C'seld ever since."
"And Kimi has done nothing?" Jurille asked, a pit in her stomach growing.
"She thinks he's in the right," Ofsee said wearily, and shifted uncomfortably. "She can't understand why folk don't see that his leadership is all that keeps the territory of Benden free from Thread." She sighed, "that's the only good thing I can say about him, Thread hasn't gotten through the Wings in the entire time that I've been there, for all that we've lost riders from time to time."
There was a discreet cough, and Jurille pulled the privacy fur aside to admit Zandur.
"Ofsee, this is Healer Zandur." The younger queenrider nodded and Jurille stepped out to allow her the modesty of a private consultation. Out in the Bowl she watched the newest Weyrlings clean and oil their dragonets, her eyes seemingly drawn to the girl who had impressed the blue.
Vaeth. Graesth helpfully provided. Vaeth and Charel.
Yes, of course love.
You are troubled. Graesth stated matter of factually.
Yes. Ofsee wants us to in essence kidnap those greenriders
Offer a trade. Graesth suggested, and opened one wing, stretching it. Offer him some of the Weyrlings that are ready to learn to flame. He will appreciate dragonpairs that he can use in short order.
That's not a bad idea. Jurille nodded thoughtfully. I will ask the other queenriders.
As you will. Zandur is looking for you. Graesth paused. He says to tell you he is very worried.
Jurille turned and took the three steps back into the weyr. Zandur looked up, and Jurille noticed the young queenrider had been moved into her bed.
"She can't go back." He stated without preamble. "Flying between will kill her."
Jurille blinked.
"I'm sorry." Ofsee said with a little hiccupping sob. "I didn't know- please, I don't want to lose the baby!"
"Peace." Zandur grumbled. "You're not going to lose the child. Nor will we let you die. But you are grounded until the baby is born. No one else is going to die because of C'seld's stupidity on my watch." He all but growled, then looked to Jurille. "Ofsee needs bedrest and easy access to me. Can we keep her in one of the queenweyrs?"
"She can have this one. B'ton won't mind sharing his weyr with me for a change." Graesth, please bespeak Couragth. Ask Brinda if I can visit.
"I didn't mean to put you out..." Ofsee said in a tiny voice.
"Nonsense. We're dragonriders, sister. We protect all life." Jurille said soothingly.
Ofsee wept then, whispering "I wish- I wish Kimi was as good a weyrwoman as you."
"Rekouth says all three girls are exceptionally receptive, but they are also very young." M'gi reported to Jurille, before the noon meal. Jurille, bereft of her weyr, had set up a quasi-study in one of the natural alcoves in the wall of the Bowl, halfway between her weyr and the entrance to the Lower Caverns. It had last been used as a temporary storage four sour fruit, and a pleasant citrusy smell lingered as Jurille listened to M'gi's report.
"How young are we talking about?" Jurille queried, her silverpoint tapping lightly on the record she had been inscribing. One of the women from Benden had an unusual weaving technique that created a waffle pattern, that Jurille was attempting to draw into the Record.
"The twins are eight Turns, the youngest is five Turns in a month's time." M'gi explained.
"Hm... well, we'll just have to check back in four or five Turns, won't we?" Jurille replied, and made a note for herself on a little wax tablet. "Please pass my thanks onto Rekouth." M'gi nodded, and went to find Tress, carrying the bundle of Charel's things.
"I count six queens". Charel stated at dinner. Lybae nodded. The weyrling had found her friend at lunch, and they had agreed to eat together as often as their respective duties allowed.
"Who's visiting?" Charel asked between bite. The orange roots had been baked with a thin sweet and spicy sauce. Charel helped herself to a second helping as Lybae cut a red root into smaller pieces.
"Ofsee of Benden. And she's not visiting, she's staying until her baby is born. If she flies between she'll lose it." Then she added in a hushed tone, "She's really sick, and no one at Benden realized."
"Why didn't the Weyrhealer see that?" Charel asked innocently.
"Because all the Hall folk left Benden" Lybae cut her fish in half with a sniff. Charel nearly spat out her juice. "What-why?"
"You didn't know?" Lybae briefly outlined the details of Benden Weyr's crimes. "Where were you that you didn't hear the Hall notice to refuse Benden riders?"
"Four days and a fortnight ago we left to drive the herd." Charel paused. "One ram can cover a herd of fifty ewes in a week. How many bronzeriders does Benden have?"
Lybae giggled at the comparison of bronzeriders to ovines. "Thirty-ish and don't forget to multiply by ten years." She replied cheekily, mashing her tubers and red roots together. Charel blanched, her mind staggering at the numbers.
"How-how many children...?" Charel asked, certain there was no way her arithmetic could be right.
"Over four hundred." Lybae wasn't laughing now.
"That's enough people to make an entirely new Weyr." Charel sputtered. Lybae nodded and snagged two purple-blue sugarfruits, placing one on Charel's plate.
"That's why it's such a big deal." Lybae said. "That's a lot of obligations for six Weyrs, but for one?" She shook her head. "No single Weyr could support all of those children. And," Lybae looked at Charel with ancient eyes, "Holders don't understand that being part of a dragonpair means having to put the dragon first. If they were weyrlings, the Lower Caverns could see to their needs. But being outside the Weyr, a lot of them don't understand the work and time that dragons take."
Charel looked down at her plate and tried to imagine her life without her father.
"That's so sad..." she whispered as the harpers began playing a happy tune.
"I know. That's why being a dragonrider means having to be honorable all the time." Lybae said, then cast a wary eye around. "You... might want to turn in early tonight, Char." She said in a soft voice. "The Harpers are going to try to make everyone forget the hatchling deaths, but... it'll get odd before the night is out." Charel, finishing her sugarfruit, nodded and quietly wished her friend a goodnight, looking forward to hitting the hay.
sourfruit: lemons
red root: beets
orange root: carrots
sugarfruit: Italian plums
tubers: potatos
Thought? Errors? Let me know.