The usual disclaimer about ownership, but I do enjoy writing these stories. I must thank all my reviewers as well, and say that I am going on holiday so there may not be an update for a while.
1.10.195
H'ric and B'rnel together with a young rider M'nas and his green dragon Tirith stood on the lip of Telgar Weyr. Abandoned for nearly two hundred Turns, it was shocking to the riders to see the desolation of the place.
"It's huge," M'nas said in a voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't realise how big it would be."
H'ric pushed his hair back, the wind instantly ruffling it back to a tangle. Up here on the heights the wind was constant, and he could see where it had weathered the rock faces.
"It was carved out during a Pass, if I decipher the Records correctly," he said, as he sat down to cut the wind, and took out his sketch book and charcoal sticks. They were seated below the Star Stones, and had already marked the location in their minds, and fixed it with their dragons. Now H'ric was quickly sketching the great bowl of the Weyr and the way the cloud mass was piled up in the sky to the north.
"You say all these Star Stones will show the Red Star at the same time?" M'nas asked.
"Not quite. They'll show the Red Star in the eye when the sun balances on top of the finger there. That means Thread is upon us. But each set of stones gives the proper alignment. At least, I think that's what the Records imply. I wish we had better material than parchment and ink. Carving the instructions on stone would take too long, but it would be better."
B'rnel nodded his agreement, because like other riders adept with the pen, he had spent time in the last month doing his share of copying work on the ancient Records.
"Look at those silly beasts," he said now.
The three dragons were exploring, wheeling and diving in and out of the abandoned weyrs. Windrow had piled up in most of the entrances, and in some more sheltered weyrs bushes had rooted and hidden the entrances. H'ric thought wild animals probably made their dens here as well. It was high, it was cold, it was desolate, but he could quarter a wing here to train.
"Who held it, back then?" M'nas asked as he also sat down. He pulled out a comb and began tidying his hair and H'ric was aware B'rnel was watching him. M'nas partnered a green, and those browns who could be bothered would sometimes outfly the blue dragons to mate with a green.
"R'mart was the Weyrleader, with bronze Branth," H'ric said. "The Weyrwoman was called Bedella and the queen was called Solth."
"And they just packed and left. I mean, they didn't just go between to die, did they? Wherever they went, they took everything with them. Records, clothing, bedding, everything except the heavy furniture, which was robbed out by the locals, I suppose?"
H'ric nodded.
"When the tithing wagons came up here, I don't doubt they would have gone back with everything they could carry. I don't begrudge them. It's a cruel hard life in these northern mountains, we know that, and we're lucky Benden is still heated by the earth itself so we don't need as much in the way of fuel."
"It's a long old haul from Crom across to Benden for the Lord Holder," B'rnel agreed. "Is coal what you're expecting Telgar to tithe?"
"It would be a good gesture from them," H'ric said as he watched the dragons sporting over what must have been the feeding grounds. Windblown soil had piled up there, and it supported good grasslands now, and he was surprised no one farmed it.
"Who owns the abandoned Weyrs?" he asked abruptly.
B'rnel slanted him a glance.
"You do, I suppose," he said thoughtfully. "I mean - you're the only Weyrleader now. Why?"
"That bowl of grassland. We've many Turns, fates willing, before the Red Star comes. What's to stop us putting animals in here in the early part of each Turn, fattening them up, slaughtering them at the proper time, and preserving the meat for winter food?"
"Nothing at all, I would think, if you can get the Lord Holders to agree to such a thing."
"It would help them out, surely?" M'nas asked. "It would ease their tithe."
"That's a good reason, I might suggest it that way," H'ric replied.
"Me, I'd rather do such a thing further south - Fort Weyr must be the most advantageous, that was the first one settled," B'rnel said.
H'ric nodded as he stood up and peered down the outer side of the Weyr.
"We've been seen," he said, pointing, and B'rnel came to his side to see horsemen below them.
"Hmm. I think we'll meet them on dragonback," B'rnel said. "We're a sight too far into the wilds for my comfort."
They summoned the dragons and mounted, and came down the side of the Weyr to where the horsemen had drawn up, a half dozen of them in Telgar colours. It had been years since H'ric had seen that distinctive striped design, and he was surprised at the rush of emotions it brought out in him.
- they are at peace
"Yes I know," he whispered.
- you see them still in your mind, they were good people, you remember them
"I didn't think it would affect me like this."
Galanath dropped to the ground, folded his wings neatly and struck a pose so that H'ric could descend from his seat. The horsemen evidently knew the unsettling power of dragons, and had dismounted from their sturdy runners and walked forward.
"We don't often see dragons and their riders," the leading man said curtly. "You'd be?"
"I am H'ric, Weyrleader of Benden. My Wingsecond B'rnel and my rider M'nas. Your name?"
"I'm called Rathan, guard at Telgar Hold. You sent a letter to tell the Lord Holder of your new place, and that there would be dragons aloft. We've been out on patrol and saw the dragons, and came to check on you."
"Yes. I want every dragon and its rider to be familiar with the major Holds and Weyrs."
Rathan was studying him carefully, and H'ric did the same. A tall man, athletic, strong enough to be able to wield the sword he carried, H'ric was sure. He himself wore only his belt knife, but he was also sure Rathan knew if Galanath joined in a fight, there would be no chance.
Rathan nodded and gave a rather stiff smile.
"Then you will be going to Telgar Hold?"
"I had planned to, yes, and perhaps on to Crom."
"You speak with some accent akin to Crom."
"I was born there, and orphaned, and taken to Benden."
Rathan stared closely at him.
"Heric, son of Haranic," he said. "I thought you looked familiar! I used to be a guard at Crom when I was younger."
H'ric studied him in turn, and then shook his head.
"I'm sorry I don't recognise you, but I was taken from there at a very young age."
"You should never have been taken at all!" Rathan said on an explosion of anger. "There were plenty of mining families could have taken you in, trained you in the mining, and you'd have made a good living!"
Galanath extended his head, his eyes beginning to whirl with angry colour, and H'ric put a hand on his neck, soothing him, not looking away from Rathan.
"I could speak to dragons," he said simply. "That was why R'tin took me to the Weyr, to stand at a Hatching and Impress."
"Hmm. All right. Well, it'll take you a heart-beat, no doubt, to get to where you want. We're patrolling here because we've heard rumours of outlaws, holdless men, in the area."
"There are none in the Weyr," B'rnel said positively. "Our dragons have been exploring, and no one lives in the bowl."
"I'm not surprised. Supposed to be haunted, with lights and all sorts of strange sounds coming from it."
"Really? When?"
Rathan shrugged. "I don't know. Just rumours, perhaps, from an old uncle around the fire, but the youngsters like to build it up into terror tales. You say there's no one in the Weyr?"
"No one at all. If you like, we'll run a patrol with you aloft, and you can take a look into the woodlands? I doubt if you'd see much, though."
Rathan shook his head. "It would take too long to comb through those forests, but I thank you for the offer. I'm more inclined to think they'll have gone lower down, there's any number of prosperous lesser holds and cotholds in the valleys."
He looked at the three dragons and shook his head, and this time smiled, a genuine smile.
"My boys will be wild to know I've seen a dragon and spoken to his rider!"
"We'll be on Search in a few months, with a clutch of eggs on the Hatching Grounds - "
The smile was wiped from Rathan's face, and he stabbed a gloved finger at H'ric.
"Don't you be thinking you can take the cream of our young men, and girls, for your pleasures! You'll get no welcome from the Lord Holders if you start that nonsense again!"
H'ric stared at him, aware that he was so angry he was beginning to shake, and Galanath nudged at him, his eyes now brilliantly yellow and red.
"I think you mistake, guard," B'rnel said quietly. "When the dragons of Pern find a candidate on Search, that family is honoured. Dragons are bred to defend this land."
"From what? There is no more Thread, if that's what you worry about! The rest of your kind suicided to give us landsmen room to grow and prosper, not fret about giving of our best, food and people, to idle dragonfolk."
H'ric turned away and gathered up his riding straps, mounted to Galanath's neck.
"If that is your opinion, then nothing I can say will change it," he said in a steady voice. "But we will continue on our path, the path laid down for us and one we cannot shirk."
He nodded to the other two, and the dragons rose from the ground in eddies of dust and splinters of wood and leaves, and then vanished between on their way to Telgar Hold.