"It was M'kai! I saw him!" D'ron said angrily, striding around B'kennor's workroom. "Why won't you believe me?"
"I just don't think that M'kai would be capable of trying to kill Kirsty," Drianne said calmly, rocking Riannor to sleep. "Do you?"
D'ron paused. "I don't know," he admitted, watching Riannor try to catch Drianne's finger. She managed it, and smiled happily. "The M'kai I knew wouldn't have been able to, but maybe he's changed."
"That much?" she asked.
"I just don't know," he said, and resumed his pacing. "All I know is that the rider I saw last night hovering over my weyr looked like M'kai."
D'ron! broke in Jarrath. Come quickly!
What is it? D'ron asked, stopping dead in his tracks. Jarrath sounded really upset.
It's Tyrith! he sent. He's coming!
Coming here? Now? D'ron asked, stunned.
Yes! Jarrath bugled.
D'ron spun and ran to the door. "D'ron? What's the matter?" Drianne asked, half-rising from her chair.
"Jarrath says Tyrith is coming!" he called over his shoulder, and leaping down the steps, scrambled to where he could see Jarrath rearing to his hindquarters to greet Tyrith.
"M'kai!" D'ron bellowed, looking into the sky. "M'kai!"
"D'ron!" a voice called back. D'ron came to a halt, his breath coming hard and fast, and waited for Tyrith to come into view.
Soon, Tyrith was hovering above the clearing, but M'kai was nowhere in sight. "M'kai?" D'ron called, looking about. "Where are you?"
"Here, brother," came the voice, and M'kai walked into the clearing, pulling off his riding gloves. D'ron raced over to him and threw his arms around him, but M'kai didn't return the hug. Instead, he stood stiffly as D'ron clung to him as though he would never let go.
"Oh, M'kai, I've missed you so much! Everyone has!" he finally sniffed, releasing him. "Where have you been?"
"I made myself a weyr in the mountain range far to the west of here," he replied flatly.
"But what have you been doing? And why did you leave so suddenly? You didn't even say goodbye before you disappeared. You need to come and see everybody, especially Kirsty. She has the biggest surprise for you!" D'ron said excitedly, and started dragging him towards the Teaching Hall, where Kirsty and Kirkai were staying until their weyr was rebuilt.
"I don't care," he said, and pulled his arm away from D'ron, who halted in surprise.
"Why not?" he asked, astonished.
"I haven't come back for her. I came back… to challenge you!"
x
D'ron stared at M'kai in dismay and horror. "What do you mean?" he exclaimed.
"You heard me," M'kai said menacingly. "I want to challenge you. To a fight. Right here, right now."
"What on Pern are you talking about, M'kai?" D'ron asked, who was starting to become frightened. This wasn't at all like M'kai!
"I want to fight you! How hard is that to understand?" M'kai yelled, his fingers forming rigid claws in his rage. "You've got a knife, haven't you?"
"Always, but wouldn't it be better to go down to the training hall and fight in there, where neither of us is likely to be hurt?" D'ron asked, bewildered.
"Why would getting hurt be an issue in a fight to death?" M'kai asked, an evil glint in his eye.
"To the death? M'kai, are you mad?" D'ron exclaimed as Jarrath bugled in protest. "What is wrong with you?"
"Keep Jarrath out of this fight. He has no part in it. Now, I grow tired of this talk, big brother," M'kai snarled. "Fight me!"
He leapt for D'ron, nails poised to gouge his eyes while his knife lay forgotten in its sheath in his rage. D'ron, surprised, fell under his attack and fought to keep the murderous claws away from his face.
"M'kai!" he bellowed, his voice tight with the strain. "Stop this at once! What do you think you are doing?"
"You're right," he said, a cold smile curving his lips. He released D'ron and backed off. "I should stop trying to hurt you, and take your life instead!" He drew his knife in one smooth motion, and flowed forward to attack again.
But this time, D'ron was ready for him. He had his own knife out, and the combatants circled each other, one looking to disable, one to kill.
D'ron feinted and M'kai rushed him, briefly grappling with him before D'ron tripped him and danced past. M'kai turned with a snarl and leapt for him again. Time and again they clashed, but while D'ron was hampered by his desire to save both of them from death, M'kai had no such restriction.
Suddenly, D'ron stumbled as his lame foot turned beneath him, and M'kai leapt forward with a cry of triumph. D'ron lifted his guard, but not quite fast enough. He howled in pain as M'kai's knife slashed his face, and he dropped to his knees, his free hand clamped to the wound. Blindly, instinctively, he struck out at the source of his pain, and felt the point sink deep. Warm liquid began to course down his hand to drench his arm from the wrist to the shoulder as he heard a soft gasp.
D'ron dropped his hand from his face and found his knife buried deep in his brother's chest. He cried out, and caught M'kai as he fell, a surprised but relieved smile on his face.
"D'ron," he whispered, "I'm so sorry. Go to my weyr, and read the book on the table. It will explain everything."
"Oh, M'kai! What have I done?" D'ron sobbed, cradling his brother close. "There is still so much you have to live for! You need to see Kirsty again, and meet Kirkai, and…"
"Who is Kirkai?" he asked faintly, and coughed, painfully. D'ron could hear the blood bubbling in his chest.
"Kirkai is your son. He was born after you left us. Oh M'kai, you can't die yet! You need to be a father to Kirkai, and teach him what he needs to know, and…"
"My son?" M'kai said softly, incredulously. Then he shook his head. "You will need to teach him everything," he said, catching hold of D'ron's hand and clenching it tightly. "I leave him in your care, and Kirsty too, if she hasn't found someone else. Take care of them. Give them the love I couldn't. Thank you, my brother. Never forget that I love you."
And there, in a clearing half a world away from where he was born, M'kai, rider of bronze Tyrith, once Master Mordekai of the Harper Hall and Mor of Fer Hold, died in the bloodstained arms of the brother he loved as his beloved Tyrith sprang into the sky and with a wild keening, disappeared between, for the last time.
And that was originally the end of Part 1. I have since decided that there is no point in splitting it, and will just continue to update on this one. Updates will begin to be less frequent from here, as I am suffering from major writer's block with this story. All suggestions are much appreciated, as are comments and constructive criticism.