A bit of action to spice up the proceedings!
3.2.196 - 13.2.196
Despite all his figuring, H'ric could not find a way to take Jiverny to Telgar to examine the deserted Weyr. Instead, he flew with her direct to the western beaches of Benden. Clad in warm clothing, with the dragons disporting themselves in the freezing ocean, they spent time together, talking over their plans, discussing the food situation at the Weyr. Jiverny had approved the idea of trying to grow quick salad greens in the warmer weather, and they had seeds promised from the Lord Holder.
"What lies beyond this ocean?" Jiverny asked.
"They say there's another land - maybe a series of islands - over that way. Fly high enough, and you can see over the curve of the horizon and sight land."
"And - to the south?"
H'ric glanced to the south and shrugged.
"That land is uninhabitable, so the stories go. I don't know how big it is, no one knows now, in this time. Presumably big enough for the people to land and begin a life there, before the First Pass? Big enough to begin to breed the dragons?"
"And then we all came north, and found these places."
"Ista must be a lot warmer, even in winter, than Benden?"
"Yes, but we have the hot rocks warming us at Benden."
She walked a little way, staring out to sea, and then turned to look at him again.
"I sometimes wonder what would have happened if I hadn't been in the right place on Search."
"We all wonder that one, lady mine! If not that search, then another, perhaps, and a different dragon?"
"Weyr lore states only one dragon suits one rider."
H'ric stood thinking about that, watching Galanath sporting in the waves. Haveneth had found a series of rockpools and was exploring them with her forepaws, clawing through the seaweed and sand and small stones.
"Yes. That's what the lore says. So would Haveneth have gone between if you hadn't been there? Or would she have accepted second best?"
Jiverny slipped her hand under his elbow.
"Impossible to know," she conceded. "My father had an elderly watch-wher - it must have hated all that heat and light, because he built it a special hut, sealed against the light. I used to go and talk to it."
H'ric glanced at her.
"Which is what the dragons would have sensed when they were on Search, I suppose?"
"And you spoke to Teneth?"
"Yes."
"What did he say - can I ask - what were his last thoughts?"
H'ric was silent for a long time, and Jiverny came round to look at him, and tears were sliding slowly down his face.
"Oh! Oh I didn't mean - H'ric - don't!"
"It's all right. Really, it's all right. I should say it aloud - "
"Does Galanath know?"
"I suppose he must. We've never discussed it. Teneth said - I am no more than a shadow-thing, I must go where this grief cannot consume me, but I will take my rider with me and perhaps we will share all time together."
Jiverny stared out to sea. "A shadow-thing. That's - probably a good description of a rider who loses his dragon as well. You'd live in the shadow of that grievous loss for the rest of your life, wouldn't you? If you chose to survive?"
"If you chose to survive? Isn't the human instinct to survive greater than the loss, even of a dragon?"
"I wouldn't know, and I don't want to know."
H'ric hugged her close.
"No, we don't need to speculate on it, but it's a thing that lies in the mind of all riders I suppose. Let's go and see what Haveneth has found in those pools - the tide will make it all right again when it washes back in."
They flew back to the Weyr with some spider-claws, and Galanath declared he had caught fish to eat. They landed and H'ric called for klah and hot food for Jiverny.
"I have to go, lady mine," he said apologetically.
"Yes, you go on, H'ric, I've some work to do on my own account."
"Be careful. Is Mima still pleased with your progress?"
"Yes of course. H'ric - I might not have any other children, you know. Your children, I mean?"
He looked startled, and almost offended.
"Your body is your own, Weyrwoman! No, I didn't mean that - I mean - if you only have one child, then that's the way it goes. Don't forget - we can't exactly raise this one ourselves - have you thought of that?"
Jiverny nodded.
"I've talked it through with Lavand and Mima. I don't think we'll lack for foster parents. But I didn't mean to offend you - for all I know you might have half a dozen weyrbrats by now!"
She laughed, an unsteady laugh, and H'ric gave her a hug.
"No, I don't," he murmured. "Galanath might have risen any time these last ten years, and I might have found a willing companion, but there's no weyrbrat down in the Caverns claiming me as their father, as yet."
Jiverny wiped her eyes.
"Take no notice of me," she said. "I don't know where all these maudlin thoughts are coming from!"
H'ric hugged her again, kissed her gently, and left reluctantly, but like Jiverny, he had duties, and looking to Telgar Weyr was one of them, and he knew M'dor and C'lin were waiting for him with M'dor's wing, the dragons that would look particularly to Telgar in the Pass to come, and they needed to go and check it over and decide what supplies would be needed.
A dozen dragons winked into existence over the empty bowl of Telgar Weyr, and circled, peering down into its abandoned depths. The lake shone where the sun struck it, just rising over the eastern wall, throwing the elongated shadow of the Star Stones forward into the Weyr. There was no sign as yet of the herdbeasts Lord Cantin had promised, but H'ric reflected that with winter still on them, and a particularly cold one at that, it would be irresponsible to drive the cattle yet.
"Do we go down?" C'lin shouted, and H'ric nodded his assent. M'dor made a circling sweeping descent, and came down on the feeding grounds, both dragon and rider looking around, then M'dor signalled, and the rest of the dragons came gliding in and settled on the grass. H'ric could see Galanath's claws sinking deep and was satisfied there would be enough grass for grazing herdbeasts in here. The bowl was warmer than he had expected, cut off from the winds scouring the mountain peaks.
"This looks good," M'dor said approvingly as he came out of what appeared to be a trance, but the other riders knew was a moment spent relaying his impressions via Cirith and Panath to Alissia. It was too soon to know if the junior queenrider was expecting a child, but Mima and Jiverny had been firmly opposed to the pair flying between to Telgar.
"There's plenty of room," C'lin agreed. "You could pick the warmest south-facing weyrs without competition. You've a dozen experienced riders now, and the gold, and a share of the weyrlings coming into training."
"Lord Cantin indicated he would be pleased to provide drudges," H'ric confirmed as he stripped off his helmet and gloves, deciding to keep his jacket on for now.
"The weyrs are so smoothly formed," D'rian, M'dor's Wingsecond said in wonder. "How did they get them so smooth?"
"This was founded right back in the olden days," C'lin said dismissively. "They had machines to bore the rocks back then, they didn't have to use pickaxes like today's miners."
R'iari, another brown rider, had been walking across the bowl to the nearest opening, presumably to the kitchen caverns, and now stopped short, sniffed at the air, and bent and rubbed at the ground at his feet. He turned and came loping back towards them.
"There's been someone in those caverns recently, Weyrleader. I could smell old smoke, and the residue of bodies. There's blood on the grass, as if they'd slaughtered animals."
Every rider drew their weapon, and the dragons' eyes began to whirl into yellow and red.
H'ric studied the blood and decided it was at least a few days old. The tunnel leading to the outside world showed dark and forbidding and he called for one of the glowbaskets they had brought with them. Uncovering it, he advanced under its low light level into the tunnel, glimpsing the bright spark at the end. He could smell the residue of bodies in here, and wondered if in fact the people who used the place used just the tunnel.
Coming back out he voiced it aloud, and C'lin studied the bowl of the Weyr.
"They wouldn't need to come in here," he conceded. "The tunnel would be adequate shelter."
"So is it human blood?" D'rian asked, and they turned and stared at him, and then at the spots of blood.
"Wounded," M'dor said thoughtfully. "That suggests outlawry, rather than just straightforward Holdless wanderers."
"Either way, they aren't here at the moment," C'lin said, and walked towards the kitchen area again.
None of them were prepared for the animals that exploded out of the darkened entrance. H'ric had time to see they were probably canines, before three of them hurled themselves at C'lin, going for the throat and face. Two more raced at R'iari who had followed C'lin, but he had time to throw up his arm to fend them off.
H'ric ran forward with his long knife, slashing at the animals worrying at R'ari's arm. Blood spurted over men and beasts, as H'ric tried to find a place to wound the animals. He was aware of shouting and the clash of steel, and then he had managed to pry one animal off R'iari, stabbing it through the open snarling mouth as it turned on him. R'iari had rolled onto the second beast to prevent it kicking his stomach open, and was pressing his damaged arm down across its throat as it choked and kicked its life out.
A huge shadow swept across the Weyr and Vereneth landed next to his rider, leaned and snapped the canines' bodies with his teeth, tossing them off. He set up a keening lament that grated on H'ric's senses, but it was not the full-bodied lament of a riderless dragon.
"J'mal! Get the healers from Benden! Now!"
J'mal ran for his blue and the two vanished as H'ric looked across at the cavern entrance. M'dor and D'rian were fighting three men, but Vereneth, with a roar of fury, snaked his head forward and his slashing jaws laid one of the men out, brutally injured, H'ric was sure. There were other men, he could see, and he and other riders raced to meet them, but Vereneth, thoroughly roused, was wading in to knock them away from the riders. They turned and ran down the safety of the entrance tunnel, and Vereneth turned back to croon to his rider.
H'ric spared a glance at the man Vereneth had thrown, but he was dead, as were the two animals which had attacked R'iari. M'dor had overpowered his two attackers and had them under guard. H'ric hurried to C'lin, seeing the dreadful injuries to his face and arms.
He was blotting away blood when the utter cold of a breath of between heralded the reappearance of J'mal with the healers. Normally H'ric would have reprimanded him for timing it so close to his own flight out, but he was too glad to see Sharama and Nethmi drop from the dragon and come running.
"A fire and hot water if you can manage it," Sharama snapped, and the riders hurried into the cavern where they found a fire recently doused, only needing some of the firewood piled nearby to bring it back to a blaze. An iron pot held something savoury, and there was also a kettle that H'ric swung over the flames, uncovering the extra glowbaskets J'mal had brought.
"I know I shouldn't have, Weyrleader - "
"You did right, this time, J'mal. Be careful going back, though, not to tangle yourself in the time lines."
J'mal nodded agreement, and began foraging, finding bedding the healers could use, and taking the first bowls of hot water outside. Vereneth was still moaning his low lament, an unnerving sound to every dragon and its rider.
H'ric tasted the broth or stew, decided it was palatable, and found a place on the crude hearth for it. The raiders had not started up a fire in the ranges he could see in the dusty abandoned kitchens, merely lit a fire between stones on the floor. H'ric did not envy the drudges who would have to bring this place back to full working order.
He came outside and went across to the healers. R'iari sat near them, his coat sleeve cut off, and dressings put on the stitched wounds on his arm. He had been given fellis juice, H'ric could see, and he pressed his shoulder as he passed to look at C'lin.
Sharama looked up at him.
"I think we've saved his eyes," he said grimly. "These facial scars will be ferocious when they've healed. His arm is snapped in two places, but that will mend. Luckily he was wearing a thick scarf around his throat otherwise - I think he'd be dead."
Vereneth moaned in grief and H'ric stepped up to his gigantic head.
"Vereneth! He will live! We must all be strong for him!"
The dragon did not answer him, but the dreadful nerve-jangling lament ceased, and Nethim drew a shaky breath as he dressed the broken arm.
- shall we catch those men outside the Weyr?
"I don't think it's necessary," H'ric said aloud. "They won't stop running until they hit the southern coast, I shouldn't think." He looked up and Galanath was perched on the crest of the Weyr, his bronze hide shimmering like gold as he surveyed the land beyond.
"There's all sorts of stuff in the caverns, Weyrleader," J'mal reported as he brought out bowls of broth for the riders. "Clothing and weapons and what looks like trade goods."
"Ranath mentioned a group of outlaws," H'ric said thoughtfully. "Sharama, can you cope here if I go to Telgar to alert the Lord Holder?"
"Yes. I don't want to move these two for at least another hour."
"Is he awake?"
Sharama shook his head. "He won't wake for a while, but it's not life threatening. By all means, go and tell the Lord Holder."
Both healers looked up at him.
"Is this better or worse than it will be in the Pass?" Nethmi asked.
"I don't know," H'ric replied. "In all honesty, I don't know, because we've not encountered Thread, and what injuries riders sustain in an Interval are mostly broken bones or those related to old age."
Nethmi nodded, viewing C'lin's ruined face, and H'ric went to fetch his riding gear and summon Galanath to take him to Telgar Hold, thinking grimly that Thread could not come soon enough, to drive the Holdless and the outlaws under cover, or kill them off altogether.