The sun was a mere hand span above the horizon when they arrived to the hanging valley. Lithvu objected at first, but finally agreed to make the last of the trip on foot. The fire lizard had not exaggerated, Namul realized with a sickening feeling. The assorted huts with their slate roofs, so cleverly designed to resemble rock formations from the air had been flattened. But, he noted with a critical eye, deliberately so. The two toed claw marks that gouged out the little patch of herbs that had been tended in the sunniest portion of the glade were a telltale sign of the culprit. Only one shelter remained, and the low snoring coming from it hinted at its occupant. Lithvu pointed to the hut, indicating that he wanted to get closer. Namul bit his lip and looked meaningfully at the setting sun.
"Quickly, then." Lithvu mouthed with a rakish smile that all harpers seemed to possess. Namul rolled his eyes, then joined him as they silently crossed the clearing. The door had been smashed to bits, littered around the opening as the two men peered into the shadowed interior. Inside, curled up in a tight ball and cradling a sleeping red haired man was a monstrous bronze. Namul blanched, and tugged at Lithvu's sleeve, indicating it was past time to go. Lithvu, unnerved at the sight of a wher the size of a small blue dragon, fled without complaint. As the men retreated to their runners the remaining sunlight felt all too brief. Namul yanked his runner's reins free, and mounted on the run.
"Who was that?" Lithvu hissed, mounting first, then pulling his reins free.
"The Red Butcher of Ruatha." Namul replied, and kicked his runner into a trot.
"That's not possible!" Lithvu argued. "He was exiled to an eastern island!"
"Harper, I worked security at his trial, that is Redell. And that bronze monster? Two Turns ago there was an attack on the WherHold by a group of Holdless. They got away with a number of eggs, all but two, one of which was thought to be a queen egg from its sheer size was never recovered." Namul swallowed dryly. "Watchwhers aren't dragons, in the hands of the wrong people they are terrifying killing machines."
"I know my history, guardsman." Lithvu snapped as his runner crowded Namul's, slipping a little on the rocky path.
"Do you?" Namul asked, wishing with all his heart that they had heeded the fire lizard's warning. "Do you know why the current Telgarsk is a blue and not the brown Lord Kestle Impressed?"
"Lord Kestle was bonded to a wher?" Lithvu asked, stunned momentarily, as his runner clambered down the trail.
"Spend more time with us mere wherhandlers, harper, you'll be amazed at what we know." Namul replied bitterly. Lithvu opened his mouth to retort, then gasped and pointed up into the trees. Two gold fire lizards stared ominously down at them, their eyes whirling orange.
"Fardles and shards!" Namul added a couple other choice words, as his mind screamed for Namusk to wake up. The dragonriders had been too merciful that day eleven turns ago when they had exiled Redell to an island with warm sands, he thought grimly. Fire lizards, like watchwhers, lacked the moralistic streak inherent in dragons. Their presence had not only been noted, but was doubtlessly being transmitted back to 'the Red Butcher'.
The men urged their runners ever faster as the trail leveled out and the sun finally sank beneath the horizon. From the hills behind them an eerie howl pierced the gloom, driving the runners to a near panic. They plunged down the trail, heedless now of its rocky nature, and burst out of the brush onto a Messenger's trail in a panicked gallop. Namul, finally free of the grasping underbrush, drew his sword and pointed to the left handed fork in the trail. If Lithvu responded he couldn't hear it over the triumphant roar of the bronze as it landed before them. Lithvu's runner couldn't stop in time, and ran headlong into the beast's open maw. There was a sickening crunch, and Lithvu screamed, falling to the ground. Namul's runner, insane with fear, tried to race between the wher and the slight embankment. The wher's tail swung out and knocked the runner's feet out from under it. Namul, saved only from years of rough and tumble play with his watchwher, leapt free of the saddle as the bronze dispatched his runner with a snap of his jaws. Unarmed, and badly bruised, Namul stood and found himself eye to eye with the towering bronze, its eyes red with hunting lust.
Please let me know if you find any grammatical or spelling errors.
A friend reading this has said she didn't think watchwhers got that large, so allow me to explain, that according to Moreta: Dragonlady of Pern, dragons really hadn't reached their full size until the 6th Pass. By that logic the whers probably hadn't either, and even in a population with a fairly stable size there is always the potential for a single individual to be outside the norm. Please, any and all feedback is welcome.