Disclaimer: I don't own Pern. I do, however own many of the characters in this story.
Chapter Ten: Battle
The pair had pushed their horses to their limits all day, and had gained the tents before the moons had risen. After regrouping and leaving the runnerbeasts to be groomed Sofreteh and Darrinel had sought out certain wealthy persons they knew to collect rare items be they inanimate objects or live creatures.
First they found a man who was simply called Ragged. He agreed to meet them in the forest when they hinted that certain valuable animals could be had.
Farther into the night, in ones and twos several select people trickled into the forest. When the other dozen or so people were gathered Darrinel and Sofreteh explained whey they had been called together.
Down the beach, about a day's hard ride, was a cove. In this cove, said Darrinel and Sofreteh, was a clan of nearly-dragon creatures, save that they walked on two legs and could speak the human tongue. The pair had been called on false pretexts to the dragon-creatures, thinking that they were to help a gentle, kind race. This was not the case, they said.
When they had arrived savage monsters had tied them in, and they had eaten even Virika, betraying the girl who had brought them food. Vyrania had been killed, and her body had washed out to sea, they said. Somehow they had escaped, and had fled.
At this point Sofreteh dragged her little green prisoner, wings shackled shut, a cloth over her mouth, her hands bound before her and a collar and chain around her neck, out from behind a tree. This savage monster, she told the audience, was one of many larger ones. But the small ones… the small ones were young. And like any animal, the young could be taken and either used in tasks human had to labor at, or, like ornamental animals, put in cages and admired.
One of the men got up, and asked how large the dragon-animals grew. If they grew the size of true dragons there could be some problems keeping the contained when they grew older. Sofreteh held her hand up to about the top of one of the dragon-creature's heads; rather above her own but hugely smaller than a true dragon's.
She and Darrinel got the men to agree to find others and to come exterminate the older mosters and take the young ones back to be trained or caged. In the morning they would march to the dragon-monsters and hunt them.
Just as they were about to leave one of the men raised his hand. When Darrinel nodded to go ahead he asked if the green was already taken, and if he might have her for a few marks. When the two asked for three marks he paid and took the leash around the greens neck in his hand, dragging her roughly after him as the gathering broke up.
000
Hayatch was the first to spot the small army, and she screeched her fury to see armed men riding against her home. But her heat was in pain for she saw that leading the men were Darrinel and Sofreteh. With unspoken consent, knowing that these men were coming to harm their people, the four dragon-people dove from the sky at their attackers.
Mreeatch scored the first wound, raking his tail so that it knocked two men from their saddles at once. The few runnerbeasts reared and plunged, some throwing their riders. Backing higher into the sky Kilatch sent her people the images of the men, the fight they were in, how close they were to their home.
Reinforcements were on the way within seconds; gold, bronze and brown while greens and blues stayed as a last defense for their hatchlings, their future.
Throughout the afternoon the battle raged. All thought that it would bee a swift fight in their favor, but it was long. For a while the dragon-folk gained the upper hand, until the bows and arrows were brought out. It was no longer safe to fly in the late evening sky, but as the shadows grew it was again in the dragon-folks' favor to fly and strike from above as the humans' vision was hampered in the darkness. Once more the humans gained an advantage by lighting torches, which not only shredded the darkness but were also used to light some arrows and even as close-range weaponry when the dragon-folk flew too low.
Ever and again one group found something to hold dominance over the other fighters' ranks, and ever something new was found. With their numbers dwindling, both sides were filled with an odd battle-fever. Sorrow for lost comrades and friends, anger, thoughts of revenge, bone-deep weariness and battle-adrenaline filled each heart and mind as the night wore one in blood.
000
Vyrania and Virika stayed with the hatchlings, comforting them. Virika watched the battle through Hayatch's eyes, and knew that Vyrania did the same. Both kept the thoughts of battle and blood from their charges.
It was a long battle, but finally the humans backed off, leaving their dead. When it was just getting light the remaining dragon-folk returned, bearing their dead with them and leaving the human dead. Among the still form that now were buried was a queen, Cameratch , and greens, browns, bronzes and blues. Though none knew how or when, not even the bodies of Kilatch and Satch could be found.
Hayatch keened bitterly for her parents, as did Virika, though they contained themselves with the others. Vyrania mourned with them in private, remembering how the queen had helped her find her feel welcome with the dragon-people.
Throughout the long day the queen and the two human girls kept a silent vigil along with the survivors. Long they wept silently, bitterly. At last, when the sun was setting, they were laid to rest in the forests they had loved.
000
One human lifted his sword, aiming for Satch's neck. "No!" cried Kilatch, and dove. She fell beside him in the flickering torchlight and stared up at the man. Satch was her mate, her love, and if this man wanted to kill him then he would have to kill Kilatch too.
The queen closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around the bronze and spread one fragile gold wing over him as if that could protect him. She felt tears run down her face as she buried her face in his shoulder, and waited for the man to strike. The sounds of the battle, from the beach a little away from the forest where she lay, drifted to her.
He didn't strike. She waited. The man didn't strike.
Finally she opened her eyes and looked up at the man from where she and Satch lay on the ground. The man didn't strike. He lowered his sword, and stared at the queen as she clung to her mate.
"No- Kilatch!" her bronze cried. Another human raced up from beside the first and raise his spear to drive it through the queen's chest. Satch flung her away from the spear as it stuck in the ground where she had been. The blade grazed his arm, and she cried out, springing to her feet.
The first man grabbed the arm of the second one and whispered in his ear urgently, then looked back at Kilatch who was pressing her hand to Satch's arm, trying the stop the flow of blood as she gazed up at the humans. At last the second one, the larger one, nodded, and gripped his spear again.
Kilatch held her mate's arm and closed her eyes, waiting for the spear to bite her. She would not run away. If it was Satch's time then it was hers as well. She would not be separated from him.
The thrust never came.
When she looked again the spear was leveled at the two dragon-people and the men were standing next to them. She waited.
Finally the smaller man took something out of the pouch at his belt. He knotted a loop in the end of the rope. With a speed she wouldn't have guessed he possessed he leaned down and slipped it over Satch's head and tightened the knot. Kilatch growled and lunged for the rope, but the spear was leveled at her neck and she stopped, staring up at the man with horror as he took a second piece of rope ads suddenly tied it around her neck.
Satch's captor gave the rope around Kilatch's neck to the bigger man, who took it and pulled, yanking the queen's neck. He pulled her to her feet as the smaller man did the same to her mate.
The bronze and the gold exchanged looks. Then the two men started to pull them in different directions. "No!" they both cried, and Kilatch lunged for Sarch with one hand out stretched. The rope around her neck caught her back, and her bronzes did the same. Hissing she whirled and the spear was put at her throat once more.
