I don't own the dragons, as I sadly have to acknowledge, but their world lives on.
There's a lot to cram into a very short timeline in these opening chapters, but hang in there, I'm sure we'll get to the exciting bits very shortly! Thanks again for your reviews and speculations on the way the story might develop.
3.8.191
H'ric attended his first meal as Weyrleader in the best clothing he possessed. Jiverny had shaken her head and taken his measurements, because none of R'tin's clothes fitted, and there was no time as yet to make new or to alter the garments Jiverny considered worth keeping.
So now H'ric combed his hair carefully, inspected himself as best he could by peering at himself, and prepared to make his way down to the dining hall.
Galanath, finally awake, said he was not hungry yet, and that the new ledge was bigger and more comfortable than the old one, but he would appreciate some fine sand if it could be found.
Thinking of that, H'ric thought of Ista Weyr, on the hot sands of the island of Ista. He had never been there, but the Records had mentioned dragons and their riders recuperating there from Threaded injuries. There would be an abundance of sand on those hot southern beaches, he was sure.
- I know the way, I have been there
"Haveneth? Why were you there?"
- I don't remember why but I do remember the hot sands
"I'll ask Jiverny."
"Ask me what?"
H'ric jumped at the sound of the Weyrwoman's voice, aware he was not yet used to sharing part of his life with someone else.
"Ista Island, for the fine sand Galanath claims he needs."
"We've been used to getting the shelly sand from the beaches on the coast to the east of us. But I agree, Ista sand is finer. Haveneth knows of it, because I came from that part of the southern coast, and I could give her a picture of the island."
"Did you visit the Weyr? After you, Lady."
They made their way down and across the bowl which was now in deep shadow as the last of the daylight faded.
"No, I didn't go there, but as I say, I have the picture of the island in my mind. Does Haveneth speak to you? R'tin always complained she would never speak to him."
"I think R'tin spoke only to Teneth, in the close focus riders have with their own dragon. Is it unusual, for dragons to speak to anyone other than their rider?"
Jiverny glanced at him and shrugged, making the folds of her cream dress to shimmer in the first of the lights as they entered the dining area.
"I don't know. Moreta was reputed to be able to speak to all dragons. I can only speak to Haveneth. Most riders will address the other rider as a courtesy, not speak directly to the dragon."
"I have not initiated any conversations," H'ric said stiffly. "Haveneth spoke to me first."
"I am not jealous, Weyrleader," Jiverny said mildly. "Just interested that she should speak to you. So you will make Ista your first stop after you inform the Lord Holders you will be overflying their territories?"
H'ric wondered again if that was amusement in her voice, but then they had entered the dining hall and he was fully occupied in accepting congratulations, and finding the riders looked different from this angle at the head of the table.
The food was plentiful, but H'ric noticed the lack of green vegetables, and hoped the tithe would contain those as well as the usual grain, tubers and preserved goods. Perhaps they could buy some fish at Ista to salt down for the winter.
"Who will you put in R'tin's place?" C'lin asked. "I've made a list of the bronze riders and their abilities for you."
"Thank you. I want to move some of the riders around, mix up the wings for a while and see how everyone fits together."
C'lin frowned at him.
"They're used to where they are now, Weyrleader."
"Yes, and I don't want to disrupt that, but I want everyone to be experienced enough that they can change from wing to wing if necessary under the fighting conditions of Threadfall."
C'lin shrugged. "As you say, Weyrleader."
"That's what we're about," H'ric said to him, and to the other Wingleaders who were listening. "We are here to fight Thread, which is due soon. The Red Star isn't noticeably brighter or larger yet, but we need to keep a watch on it, and track it."
"And the rest of the planet? Whilst Benden overflies the holds it protects, the rest of the planet is consumed?" L'rens called out. "How are you going to address that, in such a short time? Even if Haveneth rises every Turn, and the junior golds have clutches, it's not a long time for preparation."
"And Searching," D'vern said from his place. "There are boys in the Weyr, used to our ways, but you'll be out Searching cots and holds soon enough, and those brats might be totally unsuitable."
"I'm writing to the Lord Holders to tell them of the change in Weyrleader, and I'll inform them of the need for Searches every time there's a clutch of eggs," H'ric replied. "There're always Candidates left unpartnered when the queen rises, surely? And not all of them might go back to their homes? I stood three times before Galanath claimed me."
"That's a true word," Jiverny said from his side, in her calm voice, which he realised was the same as Haveneth's, but lighter in tone. "The Lord Holders, at least, are well aware we must Search now the Interval is coming to an end."
H'ric was grateful for her words, and he could see the Wingleaders accepting her advice, turning to each other and their Wingseconds to discuss the matter.
The meal finished with the harper journeyman playing some music, and leading the singing of some old songs, including the question song and the duty songs. They rarely had new music in the Weyr, H'ric thought, but there must always be some coming out of Harper Hall. He made a mental note that he must write to the Craft Masters as well, and thought ruefully he would be spending the next sevenday writing letters, letting his imagination picture the dragons winking in and out between the Weyr and the holds and back again with letters of support and welcome.
"In your dreams, my lad," he murmured into his wine goblet and put it down almost untasted, although it was a rich Benden red.
"What?" Jiverny asked, and he smiled and told her, and she smiled back, the first time he had seen her smile, he realised.
"You really must keep that imagination of yours under control, Weyrleader," she said, and then the meal was finishing and the riders dispersing, some to change shift with the watchmen, others to go to their own weyrs. H'ric became aware of speculative looks as he and Jiverny left the hall to return to their own quarters on the other side of the bowl, past the entrance to the Hatching Grounds where Haveneth would bring out the queen egg Galanath had promised him.
They reached their quarters and H'ric went to check on Galanath, promising him sand, and came back to his own quarters. A day, he thought. I have been Weyrleader for a day, and I will remain so as long as Galanath mates with the senior queen.
- do not fret over that, leave that to me
"Boaster," H'ric said softly, but he already knew how determined his dragon could be, and had no doubt the bronze would continue to fly the gold as long as he was able.
Sitting on the side of the bed, H'ric wondered what the protocol was for a Weyrleader and his Lady. Should he march into Jiverny's quarters and demand to share her bed? Should he summon her to his own? Or should he do what he very much preferred at this moment, in this overwhelming time, to roll into this very comfortable bed, snuggle down, and go to sleep.