Chapter Nine
The nine new green riders walked into the mating cavern which was a low opening before the beast hold. As their eyes grew accustomed to the dim lighting, B'fol and K'tonar, two green riders beckoned to them.
The taller, B'fol was a sandy colored man, handsome and lean. K'tonar was younger and more muscular. They introduced themselves then asked each rider his name and his green's. Mirrim was last and both men seemed a bit uncomfortable.
"Men, this large room is called the mating cavern. When your green rises, she will blood her kills usually in the stockyard before this opening." B'fol gestured vaguely toward the light end of the room. "Before the first time your green rises you will have chosen an observer, usually another green rider." He paused as a few riders mumbled. "I don't expect that any of you have witnessed a mating flight." He looked uncomfortably at Mirrim. "You will observe at least one flight before your beast rises so that you understand your duty. Either my Gereth or K'tonar's Dablarth will rise next. As we are attuned to our dragons, we will give you enough notice so that you can observe both the blooding and mating."
K'tonar stepped up beside B'fol and continued speaking. "It is tradition for a green's first mating flight to be open to at least blue and brown dragons. I cannot emphasize enough your preparation. Not only must you understand your green's passions but also your own. Do not come unprepared to this room. Be experienced so that you do not lose your dragon."
A few of the young men murmured. One raised his hand. "Speak C'logar, Miloth's rider."
The attractive young man was taken aback by his new title. He cleared his throat. "What exactly is observed?"
B'fol straightened his shoulders. "As each of you learned the care of your dragon in the last five months, I suspect that a few of you noticed your dragon is female. She will rise; she will mate with a blue or brown and sometimes a bronze." He glanced quickly at Mirrim along with the rest of the riders. "And you will be carried in her mating flight along with the rider of the dragon who catches her."
K'tonar cut in, "You may or may not form an attachment with the other rider. It is not expected like a Golden and Bronze mating. You may have an attachment to a rider and his beast catches your green but your green may choose her own. You must let her have control during flight and then control her once she is caught to ensure she and her mate are brought safely home. The best way to ensure this is to submit to the other rider. After fighting thread, this is your most important duty."
G'naret, Nallath's rider sputtered, "Submit?"
"What did you expect, green rider, when you stood on the hatching grounds? She came to you, told you her name and promised to love you above all else. And, you made the same promise. She will suicide if you die, her connection to you is that vital and you will want to die if you outlive her. You are among the elite few of Pern. You will sear thread from the skies. Lords, Holders, Crafters and commoners hold you in awe when you walk among them. You receive this honor because she chose you among the rest of the candidates and you will submit when the time comes."
Silence reigned throughout the room until B'fol cleared his throat. "Submission can be sweet. That's why we ask you to become active. In a month you will begin flying and you will rejoin the rest of the weyr. There are men and women who will help you. We are Weyrfolk, we understand the bond."
"However, few outsiders, including you original family, know or understand this aspect of weyrlife." K'tonar continued. "We don't share it. When your green has her first mating flight we will celebrate with you and welcome you to this exclusive brotherhood."
S'bald nudged Mirrim, "how about that, Brother Mirrim?" A few of the other green riders chuckled. She became the close scrutiny of the older green riders.
"You do understand, Mirrim," K'tonar addressed her, "You and T'gellan, bronze Monarth's rider, may have chosen each other but during Path's first mating flight, she may chose another."
B'fol added eagerly, "will you ask T'gellan to join in Path's first mating flight?"
"B'fol! This is a lesson for green riders, not a venue for you to satisfy your curiosity." K'tonar snapped. "Don't answer, Mirrim."
B'fol was undaunted. "She should understand her unique situation, K'tonar." He turned to Mirrim eagerly, "Perhaps you'll be the first green to keep a Bronze!"
Mirrim interjected, "I am quite aware that as the first female green rider in remembered history, every aspect of Path and my training and lives will be scrutinized. There are eight other green riders present. Please continue this lecture."
Both dragonriders inclined their heads. K'tonar briskly continued, "Yes, follow me to this area that we call the pit." The riders followed him as B'fol regarded Mirrim who was lagging behind. She winked at him and hurried up.
# # #
The twenty-one riders sat atop their dragons. They were arranged from largest to smallest. F'lessan's Golanth was first and Mirrim's Path was last. As the rest of Benden's riders had observed, Path was slightly larger than the white sport, Ruth. Although all dragonmen regarded the Lord of Ruatha's beast as a true dragon, they would think 'sport' since the pair didn't live in a Weyr. All twenty-one dragons would grow more over the next few turns but for now they were all deemed ready for flight.
B'fol's Gereth was head to head with Path as the experienced dragon was instructing her on flight. Both D'wer and B'nard, blue riders, were assisting Mirrim with her riding straps. Tense with the excitement to finally ride her beast, Mirrim was short with the blue riders whose instructions and advice contained lingered touches on her legs and Path's flanks.
"There now, Mirrim dear, how do the shoulder straps feel? Snug?" B'nard was kneeling behind her on Path, checking the safety straps and taking liberties while tugging on the straps about her body.
"Keep to task," D'wer ordered curtly. He was standing beside them, holding firmly to the ankle of Mirrim's boot. She wanted to shake him off. Mirrim was beginning to feel the excitement from Path. Far up the bowl, Golanth and F'lessen rose aloft then landed neatly on the rim. Two great bronzes landed beside the new pair. Monarth, from his height turned his head to Path and Mirrim. They both looked up to him. She could tell that T'gellan was speaking to F'lessan. From the way he held his shoulders, he was reprimanding. The dragons and riders around Mirrim paused to see what had distracted them. Monarth looked away.
"Keep to task," Mirrim thought toward the great bronze.
"Good Flight" he broadcasted to the two of them. Path warbled and shifted which caused B'nard to lose his balance. Hanging onto Mirrim's shoulders he chastised them while the other riders chuckled. D'wer gave Mirrim's boot a gratifying shake.
Soon Mornith and S'lon rose, not nearly as gracefully as the first bronze pair and Mirrim could tell by the posture of S'kel that S'lon was being properly disciplined. The three browns rose and left the bowl with their instructors then a mix of blues and greens, according to size, until only the new last pair remained in the bowl.
F'rad on green Telorth and D'wer on blue Trebeth were beside Mirrim and Path. B'fol was at Path's head with his Gereth.
"We go?" Path said.
"Not yet," Mirrim thought. "Wait for Gereth's command."
"Mirrim! Pay attention!" B'fol commanded. He said aloud for the benefit of all riders, "Gereth, at your pleasure."
Mirrim rechecked her grip on the straps then hunkered down as her dragon gave her down sweep warning. They were aloft; Mirrim felt her body press into Path's flank. Intuitively she asked Path to land on the rim. To her right was D'wer smiling broadly until he saw her looking at him then he became grim. F'rad to her left called out portentously, "Mirrim, Path, you both must work together. You both must listen." She nodded, realizing that Telorth and Trebeth were crooning approvingly. This lesson was a repeat of the last six months when dragonmen expecting her to act like a boy. They kept expecting her to behave recklessly.
Six months of rubbing Path's body with oil, examining the compact power of her muscles were paying off. Six month of isolation from all whom she loved and depended on for acceptance had made Mirrim so confident in her dragon that flight was as natural as breathing. Six months of sharing hopes, fears and thoughts prepared Mirrim and Path more than any of their hatchmates.
"Telorth says we are to rise with them and hover." Path stated excitedly.
"On F'rad's mark, my love," she thought back.
All three rose simultaneously then flew over the bowl as they headed up and north. F'nor looked down on Brekke whose eyes were so far away that he knew she was remembering her first flight with Wirenth. He looked away; the pain was severe. F'nor nudged her. "She's a natural on Path in flight."
"I never had a doubt" Brekke replied, smiling proudly.
"She executed her first lift off better than any of her hatchmates," F'nor added. They were the last in the bowl. Weyrfolk were continuing their daily duties now that they had witnessed the latest group of riders take to the sky.
# # #
Rising above the upper Benden Range, Mirrim and Path, between the two larger beasts, green Telorth and blue Trebeth, matched their ascents and direction. She could feel the buffeting caused by them which made Path work harder. "Raise us about half my height, Path. Get above that wind from their wings." Path complied and immediately felt the lift. "Interesting," Mirrim thought toward Path. "Do you think they meant us to figure that out?"
"Telorth says you were clever to know where to place us but now we are to turn left on her mark." Path replied. The three dragons executed a near perfect turn. The trio flew until the sun indicated late afternoon. Path's landing in the bowl was as well executed as her lift-off. Both experienced riders were smiling broadly, no longer feeling the need to impose strictures. Mirrim hugged Path's head to her chest then removed the riding straps so that Path could enjoy a dunk in the lake with her hatchmates. About six of them were cavorting. Mirrim folded the straps so that they wouldn't drag when she slung them over one shoulder. She had seen riders do this since she was a little girl. She allowed her first laugh of the day as she approached F'rad and D'wer who had released their dragons as well.
"Come, lady rider," D'wer said taking her arm. Both men escorted her back towards the Weyrling Cave where B'mezal stood in his customary stance, legs apart, and fists on hips. He tipped his chin up as he watched the last of his weyrlings enter his domain. Mirrim knew the crusty old man well enough now to know he was as proud of her as he'd allow a weyrling to know.
"They pass?" He gruffed.
Both D'wer and F'rad laughed heartily. "They fly as one," D'wer responded. "They'll be the first to go between in this batch, I'll warrant."
"Don't give them ideas," F'rad added, "Although, they're too responsible to each other to be tempted."
"Go to the right then, Mirrim." B'mezal jerked his head in the direction of the room where most of her classes had been for the last six month. She suddenly realized her days in the barracks were over. B'mezal slugged her arm as she walked past him. Impulsively she turned and hugged him.
"You're the meanest old grouch in this Weyr," she growled in his ear.
His booming laugh echoed off the stone walls. "You're far meaner, you scrawny excuse of a dragonman," he growled in response as he returned her embrace. "Now, get! Away with you; I'm done with your sort."
Mirrim released him and stepped into the room where only six other of her weyrmates were milling about. F'lessan turned to her first and raised his fist in the air. "That's almost half of us who passed!" He crowed. "We're the best!"
Mirrim sighed, "Seven of us makes only a third to pass, you wherspoor." She saluted her bronze superior then looked to the rest of the riders with whom she'd share this special bond until their final flight between. Sh'goll was the only brown rider present. Blue riders, R'gan and N'bessed and green riders G'lenan and C'logar were the other four riders. It was then that she saw her kit with the other six bundles. They would receive their weyr assignments today and sleep as true dragonmen tonight, in their own weyrs. She wondered if she should shake it out now or wait until her assignment. Passing didn't mean that one last practical joke wouldn't be defiling her gear.
K'tonar and B'fol entered the room with two brown riders. B'fol first spoke with C'logar then signaled to her. She picked up her kit along with C'logar and walked out behind B'fol
"Your weyr, Mirrim, is on the south side and high. It is close to the rim and back far enough from the lower caverns." B'fol's hazel eyes regarded her, "I'll warn you, it's small. A brown or bronze will not be able to land on the lip. Do you want me to take you and Path to it?"
"Just point at it for us." Mirrim called to Path who had taken advantage of her new flying status and was warming herself on the rim in the last of the day's light. She lifted lightly and landed next to her rider. Mirrim quickly slung the straps back onto her dragon, buckling it thoroughly even for the short hop to their new home. B'fol nodded approvingly. Slinging the bundle to her back, Mirrim faced B'fol. He pointed.
"See the striation that looks like an upside down fingerstone?" Mirrim squinted and nodded. Path looked in the same direction. It was high, higher than T'gellan's old weyr. "The hole to the left, that's your new weyr."
Mirrim climbed Path's back like an expert, settled then gave Path leave to rise. Many riders and dragons watched the pair settle on their ledge and enter. Path's tail was visible for a few moments then it slipped inside.
"The lip is sufficient," Mirrim said as she removed the straps and surveyed the spacious cavern that was now Path's room. It had been recently scrubbed clean. The opening was deceptively small. Once the straps were off, Path paced over to her stone couch and rolled a few times, crooning.
"Sufficient, but tonight I will huddle next to Monarth in his weyr."
"Not for a sevenday, love," Mirrim admonished. "We promised that we'd establish this weyr first." She sighed. She could dine with T'gellan and his wing tonight. While they dined, Monarth and Path would probably curl together on the lip of his weyr. She picked up the glow basket, unshielding it to spread light across the cavern. A second green or blue could fit in here but not a brown or bronze. She walked toward the curtain pulling it aside. There was a rush bag folded back on the single cot. A press was at the bottom of the narrow bed. On top of it was a fur blanket. She opened the press to find most of her clothing already within.
She dropped the kit on the bed and faced the second curtain. The warmth for her chamber was emanating from it. Taking the basket she entered the bathing chamber. It was small; the bathing pool was little. Three fire lizards were sitting on the bench adjacent to the pool. They were wet. Mirrim bent down to feel the water. It was a touch too hot. She drew a bucket of the water to cool while she assembled her possessions.
Dusk was settling by the time Mirrim was ready to descend to the bowl. As she expected, Monarth bugled as Path landed inviting her to share his ledge. She hopped up daintily to his side while Mirrim walked the remaining distance to the lower caverns. G'lenan was waiting for her.
"It feels so odd; I don't know where to sit," G'lenan said as he walked in step with her. They both approached the large pass-through between the main kitchen and back dining hall. Evenings were becoming chilly as autumn progressed. Most of the people were sitting closer to the heat sources.
Picking up a plate and a mug, Mirrim gestured to the dining cavern bathed in warm blackstone fires and golden glowlight. "This is our home, G'lenan. No need for us to feel odd and we're riders, we can sit where we want."
"Which I hope means you'll sit with us," Willa said as she walked up behind the two riders. "T'gellan's wing is directly below the dais tonight. He's been delayed in council but wanted to be sure that you sat with us." She looked first to Mirrim then lingered on her son, pride shining through her alluring blue eyes. "You and Boath passed your flight test the first time. Your father would have been so proud." She reached over and rubbed her hand over G'lenan's recently shorn locks. The three of them turned to the long table that currently was sparsely populated. Her fire lizards were already perched above the head of the table and Mirrim chose to sit there.
The tramping of heavy boots upon the steps indicated that the Wingleaders and their seconds were adjourned and coming to dinner. Soon T'gellan was beside her and couldn't resist rubbing her short curly hair as well. Many riders exchanged marks and exclaimed how they knew Mirrim was a sure bet but that six other riders passed on their first flights was considered high. Some said that thread challenged them to excellence; others said it was that a woman rider challenged the rest. Wine and special holiday bread was served in honor of the new riders. The entire Weyr seemed to be present with the exception of small children and Talina. Brekke said she was close to delivering. Oharan and Elgion, the Half Circle Harper began playing dance music. Tables were cleared. F'lar and Lessa began the three-quarter step. T'gellan held out his hand to Mirrim in a challenge which she accepted.
"Don't worry about the steps," T'gellan said close to her ear, "You follow me."
"I didn't say I didn't know how to dance, just that I didn't," she responded as he slipped one hand to her waist and the other took her hand. As they twirled through the other dancers to the easy beat she saw Brekke and F'nor, S'kel and Felena, even G'lenan and Willa were on the floor. Next the musicians played a foot stomping line dance, a favorite among riders. The new riders were compelled to join as it was more of an exercise of agility than grace. Mirrim recognized that many of the moves were designed to reflect riding a dragon during threadfight. The dancing broke and she returned to T'gellan who glanced toward the bowl then back to her.
She gave him her quirky half smirking smile but as they tried to make a discrete exit, B'nard and D'wer sidled up to her and whisked her to stand with the other six new riders where they were summarily insulted and toasted. As the music resumed, she took to the floor with B'fol. D'wer then B'nard claimed her. She begged off the next dance with B'tarth claiming she needed the Necessary. As she made for the hall to the sleeping cubes, another hand grabbed her and pulled her into an empty cube. T'gellan crushed her to him and she tried to press herself closer.
"The riders are not going to let you go easy tonight," he whispered into her ear. "This, I didn't anticipate."
She began to giggle but he shushed her. There were heavy boots along the hall, "Blast and sear them, that bronze got her away from us," an unidentified voice cursed.
Another voice further toward the stairs to the bowl responded, "They've not crossed the bowl, Mowalth would have told me."
T'gellan relaxed his grip as Mirrim laid her head against his shoulder. They tried to not to make a sound as the unidentified riders patrolled the hall. When it became silent, T'gellan and Mirrim peaked out the curtain then scurried up the hall. At the stairs T'gellan pulled her toward the council rooms. They ran past the rooms to the landing of the Weyrwoman's weyr. Quickly they ascended the steps to the rim. Mirrim stopped at the top leaning over to give her legs a moment to recover. Path appeared before them.
"Are you ready to ride a green?" She peered into the dark toward T'gellan's form.
He stepped up to her and slung her into his arms, "And then I'll ride her rider. Let's break in your new weyr."