This chapter coincides with events from Ann McCaffrey's original trilogy, third book: The White Dragon.
Chapter Twelve
It was close to second watch when Monarth roused T'gellan who had fallen asleep on his dragon's forelegs. "She calls for you. Go to Path's rider."
The bowl was dark except for the muted lights from the kitchens and the lone watch dragon's eyes. T'gellan walked across to the infirmary steps, feeling his way up the ramp to the door. He cracked it open and let himself through. One dim glow cast a faint light on the single row of cots against the wall. It was not difficult to know which one contained Mirrim. Three pair of yellow eyes opened as little fire lizard heads swung toward him at the door. Their eyes briefly swirled green before returning to the light yellow spin indicating their distress. He felt his way to the bed, kicked off his boots and trousers then crawled in with Mirrim who was curled on her side. She roused enough to acknowledge him. Turning into him she pressed her head to his chest and murmured, "I'm sorry."
T'gellan hugged her close, breathing in her warmth and scent. The feeling of gratitude and relief overcame him as he buried his face into the top of her head. "We have you. That's all that matters."
In the morning, Brekke touched him lightly on the shoulder. "Wake up, T'gellan." She had pulled partitions around Mirrim's bed and was on the opposite side of the cot. His trousers were slung over her arm. He pulled his arm from under Mirrim's sleeping form and stroked her hair before accepting his garment.
He dressed quickly then moved a partition to exit. Brekke was waiting for him. She beckoned for him to follow her to the apothecary. Turning she held his arm and looked straight into his face.
"I am sorry about the child," she started. "I know how badly Mirrim wanted it." She looked away briefly biting her lip then back into his eyes. "We are giving her a concoction that she will need to take for a few turns."
"Turns?"
"Yes, turns," she squeezed his arm. "This was worse than a miscarriage. She will need time, a long time, to heal before she tries again to have a child. You are aware it is difficult for women riders to carry a child to birth. As a green rider, I expect Mirrim to have a far more difficult time, T'gellan. Do you understand?"
He nodded his head.
"Don't pressure her, please."
"I didn't think I had. I'd welcome a child between us but it's more important that she heals enough for us to try later." T'gellan thought that Brekke looked stricken. "No? No child?"
Brekke swallowed, frowned then shook her head in a quick jerk. "Turns, this will take turns. Convince her to take this concoction. It works well to keep women from pregnancy. Between that and the amount of flying between that she is required to do, it will keep her safe but you need to do your part too. Convince her to wait."
"She won't like it."
"That is why we're counting on you," Goren remarked as he came around the corner from the apothecary. "What Brekke fails to tell you is that for at least two months, Mirrim cannot have sex or bathe in any of the hot pools. She can't fly between, in fact I don't want her on Path at all for a sevenday."
"Oh," T'gellan mouthed, "I'll bring her back to our weyr." He looked between the two healers who regarded each other. "Once you release her from the Infirmary, of course."
Goren cleared his throat, "Perhaps, for the time of a month or two, she should return to her own weyr".
"You just said she shouldn't fly Path for a sevenday".
"We have all been speculating when Path would rise and now it is essential that she doesn't", Goren began, "at least for a month or two. Brekke seems to think some isolation for Mirrim and Path will stave off Path's drive".
"I disagree", T'gellan cut in. "The pair would be better off following routine."
Brekke exchanged exasperated looks with Goren and heaved an exaggerated sigh.
T'gellan was beginning to perceive an ulterior motive. "Ask Mirrim what she wants. She's smart enough to follow your advice, Goren, and so am I. She comes back to our weyr and I will make certain that she heals." He turned to Brekke and in an accusing tone," What else, Brekke? What?"
She made no reply as simultaneously she and T'gellan clapped hands over ears and moaned. One of the riders in a cot, cried out. The clamor without the Infirmary vibrated through the walls. Goren reacted a moment later. "What is that?" he cried but T'gellan had run to the door with Brekke close behind him.
"Ramoth's eggs stolen?"
"A queen egg?"
Goren gathered his wits and ran in time to restrain a rider trying to rise and go to the aide his Weyrwoman.
It was later in the evening that T'gellan returned to Mirrim's side after he had painted Benden Weyr's colors on her fire lizards. Tempers in Benden had not been so taut since the first days after the queens fought. Mirrim had to forego the lessons until F'lessan brought them to her and Menolly joined her at T'gellan's request to help her study.
For a few months the Weyr didn't obsess with Path's impending mating flight, or the leaders with Mirrim's pledge to be with other riders. Talina took full advantage of Mirrim's enforced abstinence.
# # #
T'gellan returned to his weyr from debriefing after what most wingleaders called a bad fall. Both dragons were nestled in their stone couch; Monarth curled possessively around Path. She appeared greener than usual, he noted. He heard splashing in the bathing room. Immediately he strode to the curtain ready to reprimand Mirrim for bathing in the hot water. He stopped abruptly after a few steps in. The fire lizards were cavorting while Mirrim sat on the edge, soaking her feet and oiling a squirming Lok. She didn't turn toward him. Kicking off his boots and wherhide trousers he sat beside her and dangled his feet in the water. Once beside her, he could see her puffy eyes and splotchy cheeks.
"You're crying?"
She nodded, sniffed and wiped the tears with the back of her oily hand.
He sighed and waited for her to talk but she continued to rhythmically caress the little green fire lizard, her thoughts dwelling on some inner turmoil. After a few more minutes of silence, T'gellan stripped the rest of his gear and let the water cover his head. He wanted to remove the firestone smell before dinner. He had the feeling that she'd be staying in the weyr again. After a thorough sanding and shave he dunked under and rose before her to look into her eyes.
With a sigh she finally spoke. "You'll utter not another word until I speak, eh?!"
"Something like that."
She let Lok go. "While Benden's Wings were fighting thread, Ruth bespoke Path and Brekke. I flew her to a beach on Southern. Jaxom was there; he was delirious. He has firehead so I flew to Southern and picked up Toric's sister Sharra. She's the only healer I know that has successfully treated advanced cases."
"Jaxon? Firehead?"
"It's an affliction that one gets either from the beaches, or shore or plants or bug bite on Southern. We never have figured out how somebody gets it but it has to do with the time of turn and it's usually manifests itself after time spent on a sandy beach." She heaved a sigh as fresh tears coursed down her cheek. "Most people who come down with it don't survive. Menolly has it too."
"Is she on the southern beach too?"
"No", Mirrim said while wiping her nose and shaking her hand in the water. She leaned forward and cupped water in her hands then rinsed her face. "Menolly came down with the symptoms at the Harper Hall. Oldive recognized them and she was treated quickly. She will survive. I stopped off to speak with Oldive and brought supplies back to Brekke and Sharra. We built a shelter and after I did all that he recognized me and began ranting. Said horrible things to me. Mocking, taunting things. Sharra and Ruth insisted I leave. So Brekke made us leave."
T'gellan was pensive, nodding occasionally. Two turns ago when he suggested she spend time with other men for Path's sake, he speculated that she and Jaxom had trysted. He assigned her current distress to it.
"The day D'ram was brought to Benden", she continued tensely, "That day, both were here and I conveyed Menolly and food up to the weyr that Jaxom and Ruth slept in. We had an argument and they made me angry. I said things I shouldn't have." She looked directly at T'gellan, anguish brimming over in the form of tears. "I'm a contemptible person. I have always known that I am a horrible, contemptible person."
T'gellan leaned forward to hold her, "Dragons do not choose the unworthy. Neither do dragonmen. He kissed her lightly but the warmth of her lip and vulnerable state boiled over into passion. With a firm grip on her shoulders he pulled back. The look of dejection on her face made him hesitate. "We can't yet, Mirrim. Not until Goren says you are able."
She hugged herself and looked down.
"Get some sleep, love. I'll bring you a meat roll and some wine. You did a lot of flying between for being only just allowed to ride Path again. A good night's sleep and you'll feel better in the morning. He pulled himself out of the pool dripping water to the sleeping quarters to retrieve a towel. Once he had dressed he returned to Mirrim who hadn't moved. He guided her to their bed pulling her clothes off and sliding a cloth shift over her head, settling it over her hips. He pressed her down to sit on the bed then pushed her over and covered her with the fur. T'gellan sat by her rubbing her back until her breathing became measured and relaxed.
Once outside his weyr he crossed the bowl to the Infirmary. Goren was in back with a tray containing his half-eaten dinner perched on the edge of an empty cot.
Have you a moment, Goren?" T'gellan asked softly as the healer looked up. He rose stiffly and directed T'gellan to where his desk and apothecary were. Once by the shelving he turned and looked inquiringly at the dragonman.
"Is Mirrim ready to have sex again?" T'gellan blurted.
"Well, she should wait a bit longer", Goren said while looking to the ceiling and rubbing his chin. "You have your choice of partners, bronze rider."
T'gellan made an impatient sound in his throat. "Path is going to rise, probably within the next sevenday. Will Mirrim be able without suffering", he paused, "damage?"
Goren's demeanor changed noticeably; his left hand kneaded his right thumb. "Perhaps we should talk to Brekke…"
T'gellan interrupted, "She's unavailable and will be for longer than Mirrim has before Path rises."
"Where is she?"
"Mirrim is asleep in our weyr". Goren stared at him blankly until T'gellan realized which "she" Goren meant. "Brekke is in Southern for at least a month, maybe two.
Goren seemed at a loss. "Tell Mirrim to come by the Infirmary when she wakes tomorrow. I can examine her", he said with apparent distaste.
"T'gellan nodded and exited to the bowl. His stomach rumbled. As he sat with the last of the available food for dinner, most of his wing departed, he tucked in. When he looked up Talina, Tallan and his daughter Lania, now nine were moving toward him. Lania was beginning to look like the woman she was to become. Her bright red hair of childhood was fading to a blander shade of brown but her gold-flecked eyes were going to be her best feature. They were the same as his and Tallan. Talina's dark eyes danced when she saw he was looking. The three of them sat opposite him.
"Hi T'gellan", Lania said cheerily. "Guess what? Tallan can sing the Thread song. I taught him."
They looked expectantly at the boy who was more intent on crawling under the table. He surfaced beside T'gellan. "Men sit on this side Gellan." He said with a slight lisp.
With a pat on his head, T'gellan smiled indulgently and continued eating. Lania continued to talk, interjecting a few commands to the little boy who was not going to obey. Talina left briefly to return with a skin of wine and two cups. She poured for T'gellan and herself then said to Lania, "It's time for Tallan to be put down and you should get to your cube too. Lania gladly moved to the side of the table where her father and half-brother were sitting. She reached up to T'gellan to kiss him on his cheek. He gave his daughter a brief hug and kiss on the top of her head then bent to give one on his son's head. They left along with the other children who were being shepherded by Sanra and her helpers.
With only adults left in the hall, the atmosphere became calmer. T'gellan turned to Talina, "Alamia had Lania and her other children in the gardens below the Weyr for the growing season. How did you get her back here?"
"I asked", Talina said, smiling. "Those two had become close this past winter so I asked Felena to trade one of the others for Lania to return. She is good with the littler children and Sanra has wanted to foster somebody for childcare. Alamia agreed."
T'gellan nodded absently then sipped some of his wine. "Not until I saw her did I realize I missed having her around the lower caverns. Thanks for bringing her back."
"It was as much for Tallan as it was for Felena", Talina said modestly then smiled as she took a sip from her cup.
The two finished the skin of wine and walked together to Talina's weyr. Shortly before the end of second watch T'gellan returned to his own weyr. He picked up Reppa, nestled against the small of Mirrim's back. She woke enough to spin red eyes at him and hiss before he dumped her onto the press at the bottom of the bed.
Goren managed to find a dragonrider to take him to Brekke under the pretense of examining Lord Jaxom. He returned to Benden and again asked Mirrim to move to her own weyr as well as insist that she continue practicing abstinence. Another month passed with Path still the only green of the hatchmates yet to rise in her first mating flight. Yet one more month passed and Masterharper Robinton suffered a heart attack while witnessing Caylith's flight for new leadership of Ista Weyr. It seemed the way of Pern to combine momentous events. Leadership changed at Southern Weyr too. A lordling recovered from firehead at Cove Hold where preparations were being made to bring the much-beloved Masterharper of Pern for his own convalescence and retirement.
Less momentous was Goren's declaration that Mirrim was healed and his covert assistance to keep hold of Path's passions was withdrawn. T'gellan sought relief from Mirrim's increasing outburst of emotion in Talina's weyr while the blue and brown riders continued to monitor Path's color, appetite and disposition.
# # #
The thick atmosphere of dusk settled over the crowd at Cove Hold. Brekke needed some air after the bustle in the kitchen. From the veranda, Brekke could hear Mirrim's voice in the study. She had told the dragongirl to return to Benden that afternoon after she had been dismissed by Master Robinton. What was she still doing in Cove Hold with Path so close to mating? She walked to the end of the veranda where she could see the graceful white curve of the cove. About halfway was the back end of Ruth's white hide and Path curled beside him. Her green hide shimmered iridescently in the fading light.
Brekke let out an explosive breath and stalked to the study. Mirrim almost ran into her right at the door, "Come with me."
Mirrim huffed, her forehead furrowed in the familiar scowl of impertinence. Brekke stepped into the kitchen then turned abruptly against her former fosterling.
"Take Path back to Benden, now," She demanded.
"You're going to force me out of Cove Hold too, then." Mirrim replied, in a deceptively calm manner. "I had hoped you to at least understand why we had to get out of Benden."
"She is too close to rising and it is affecting your thinking. Go back before you cause a catastrophe." Both women regarded each other, pressure filling the room. Path was one dragon for whom Brekke didn't hear. When Wirenth's presence died inside her head, Brekke almost lost her sanity but she could still hear other dragons, could bespeak them and they usually answered. Path didn't answer unless it was through another dragon like Canth or Monarth. She tried once more to speak to Path and failed. "I am trying to help you, Mirrim."
"Help me?" Mirrim retorted, "You want to help me? Then tell me how you kept Wirenth from rising for almost six turns."
Brekke reeled back against the kitchen cupboards. Mirrim had to be guessing. She fought to control her shock. Nobody ever had the cruelty to say her dragon's name in her presence. How could Mirrim have known that particular secret? "You can't deny Path," Brekke whispered. "She has to rise; keeping her near Ruth won't stop her."
"So it wasn't simply pining after someone unattainable, then," Mirrim replied coldly. What else did you do? Was fostering me part of your arsenal?"
Brekke turned away from Mirrim's penetrating green eyes and paced the length of the kitchen. She spied the tray that she had started for Wansor who was out on the point with the distance viewer. She began bustling to fill the tray. Activity was what she needed while she thought through Mirrim's demand. Mirrim was no longer a meek and indebted child for whom she could fill with contrition with a severe look. Now a dragonrider, Mirrim was almost her equal.
"Sheath your tongue if it is going to stab," Brekke said after a shuddering sigh. "You, of all people should, should…" She faltered.
"You taught me to observe; I observed. And I am right, aren't I. You held your dragon down until you could have the man of your choice and you won't allow me and Path the same." Mirrim stepped closer. "You have exerted every influence in your power to separate T'gellan from me. I know that one word from you to F'lar and the bronzes are back in Path's mating flight. One word from you and B'mezal will enforce lots. One kindness to me, Brekke. ME, Brekke, but you won't."
Brekke kept her eyes on the contents of a meat roll, feeling oppressed by Mirrim's proximity. Only Mirrim could twist her motives into something sinister but her guesses were accurate. When had she become taller? "T'gellan is destined to be a Weyrleader and you are hindering his chances as much as you are hindering Path. Why must you be so stubborn!" she replied angrily.
Mirrim stood beside her, her jaw tight, her hands balled into fists. "You know what is going to happen to me when Path rises and you have made certain that I am alone when it does. Does it please to you to humiliate me? Is this why you took me from that field?"
Brekke' hands balled into fists too which she pressed into the counter. Flashes of bronze riders pressing upon her in what were the final moments of her beloved Wirenth's life rushed through her memory. Kylara's face, inches from her, screaming at the top of her voice danced in front of her closed eyelids. She turned her head trying to keep the images from surfacing. Pridith's icor trickling down her throat as she bit into her golden neck and pulled her between. She turned away to escape the unwanted memories but the worst was surfacing. Her face and shoulders pushed into the dirt-encrusted, stone table of the vegetable nursery.
"Take that green back to her Weyr!" Brekke's voice cracked as she tried to keep from sounding shrill. Ruth inquired at her agitation. She picked up the tray, shoving it into Mirrim's abdomen. "Take this out to Wansor then leave Cove Hold and don't come back, you ungrateful slut."
"Sure," Mirrim responded bitterly as she grasped the tray, "That's what I'll be after blue and brown riders have me in the pit."
"Go, get out, I never want to look upon you ever." She choked as she turned to hold onto the counter, closing her mind to dragons touching her in concern. She looked to the doorway to be certain that Mirrim had left. Taking several deep breaths, Brekke fought to regain her composure. Berd appeared at her elbow, settling on the counter and crooning in concern. She fondled the bronze fire lizards whose eyes were slowing their orange-yellow spin. She picked up a piece of fat she had cut off the roll for Wansor and fed Berd. Then she put her forehead against his.
Somebody was entering the kitchen, Brekke braced herself for another confrontation with Mirrim but N'ton sauntered in with a jovial hello and walked directly to some cut up redfruit. As he stuffed his face, he turned to her. "I've come in for some sustenance for me and Wansor. Knowing him, he hasn't eaten and will view all the stars in these fragrant clear skies until he faints from hunger or the sun appears."
"Oh," Brekke replied, relieved that she sounded normal. "I just sent Mirrim out to the point with a tray."
N'ton popped a few more red sections into his mouth, saluted and turned to leave. Brekke hesitated, "N'ton?" He turned enquiringly toward her. "Path is close to rising. I instructed Mirrim to return to Benden tonight. Would you please reinforce that?" He stood a bit straighter, nodded then waved as he left.
Brekke leaned against the counter, letting her head rest against the upper cupboard. Sometimes she wished she had not taken Mirrim from that scorched field. But Andemon had gotten that cryptic message to her. If not for the search, she may have been the one left to die by thread. With a sigh she forced herself to think of the difficult nights when Mirrim had nursed her. From the queens' fight through F'nor and Canth's botched flight to the red star to each miscarriage, Mirrim's concerned face and capable hands had been present.
A commotion on the veranda entered her conciseness. She thought she heard Mirrim's voice. She walked to the side door in time to see a dark figure fly up, circle the cove and wink out. Only Ruth was that small. Good, Mirrim had gone to Benden, where she and Path belonged. Only later, as she lingered in the quite recess of the side porch did she hear N'ton tell T'gellan that Mirrim was not welcomed at Cove Hold or Landing and the reason why. Since T'gellan was staying for the night, she decided to wait until morning to speak to him.
# # #
T'gellan stalked into their weyr to find Mirrim curled up between Path's forelegs. Both were asleep. He decided she didn't have the right to nap through his anger so he prodded her with a boot. She came awake with puffy eyes.
"Indulged in a rare bout of tears, did you," he said as he stood directly over her.
"T'gellan," she cowered back into Path who was backing into her couch. Neither was accustomed to this sudden fury.
"Why did you take Path away from the weyr so close to rising and how could you speak of Ruth and Jaxom so rudely? T'gellan grabbed her arm and dragging her up and away from Path. He pulled her to look at him. "I'm tired of making excuses for you. Shells, woman, I was embarrassed to look at N'ton when he told me. Brekke hasn't been this upset in turns."
"I only said what the rest of you think!" she retorted.
"You had no right", he yelled as he grabbed her shoulders shaking her. "How could you say it aloud? How would you feel if it were you?" Mirrim tried to pull away when he pushed her back. She fell hard then crawled backward on her hands and feet, glowering.
"I wish it were me!" she spat. "If Path were an unsexed runt like Ruth I wouldn't have to face the lust of every blue and brown rider on Pern."
In two steps T'gellan was upon her, grabbing her by her neck, yanking her to a standing position then shoving her roughly against the wall. Not used to losing his temper and feeling the need to hit her hard, he held her against the wall. "You are a green rider, no different from any other green rider and Path. Will. Rise."
"I can't do this; one of them is going to take her. And take me. It's vile."
T'gellan slapped her. "Are you going to be like Kylara? Huh?! Think only of yourself and lose your dragon so stupidly? Are you going to be like Brekke and not exert your control? Kill Path? You will do your duty to Path or you will cause her death, you poor excuse of a rider."
"NO," Mirrim shook her head, appalled. "I can't, I won't let it."
"Well that's you, can't let go of anything; gotta control everything and everyone. Don't you know Path by now?"
Mirrim tried to grab at him, "No, I love Path but I can't do this, and I need you, T'gellan, you and Monarth."
"You've never needed anybody and apparently you don't need Path." T'gellan strode to the sleeping chamber and thrust at the curtain so hard that it fell. He kicked it. "Until Path rises, you go back to your weyr. I will not be your excuse for holding your dragon down." He commanded over his shoulder. He began throwing her things into the middle of the floor. She followed him trying to grab at his arm, insisting that she needed him, loved him, loved Monarth and Path. Darkness covered the entrance. Monarth had landed; his wings still lifted, eyes wildly spinning red. His jaws were open, displaying the rows of massive, stone-grinding teeth. Both turned toward him.
"STOP TALKING TO MY DRAGON." T'gellan shouted. "And you," he pointed at Monarth with a glass bauble in his hand. It was the end-of-turn gift he had given her. "You, Monarth! I've indulged your fancy for her long enough."
Abruptly Monarth's eyes went yellow. T'gellan threw the glass bauble so hard against the wall that it shattered to powder. Mirrim crumpled to the floor hugging her stomach. "Please, please not you too, T'gellan. Don't you abandon me too."
Path had cowered in her couch. For the first time since impression Mirrim saw through her white swirling eyes. She saw herself in the center of the floor in a pathetic scrunched up heap. She could see T'gellan walk past her, vault to Monarth's back then the two leapt to the sky, neither looking back.
"I can't be Ruth for Ruth is already himself," Path spoke, confusion coloring her voice inside Mirrim's head. Mirrim watched herself stand and walk toward herself in Path's eyes.
"Forgive me, Path. Forgive me," Mirrim let tears roll onto Path's head as she hugged it to her chest. "I love you. I love you more than myself. I will be with you."
"Of course you will be with me. I will rise and fly and dart and evade. I will decide who will catch me but he must prove his worth first." Mirrim pulled back. Her own eyes looked into the depthless, multi-faceted eyes reflecting the exact same green as hers.
"Of course we will, my darling." She hoped she meant it. Eventually the light from the mouth of the weyr faded. Mirrim picked her way back to the bedchamber. She pulled one of the furs off the bed and piled her belongings into the middle of it. She tied her bundle with their fighting straps. Sitting astride her dragon she directed her to their old weyr. At the mouth she pulled out a glow to be sure it was unoccupied. Path had already rolled into her stone couch. Mirrim joined her with the fur after she dumped her belongings on the small cot in the tiny bed chamber. Curled with her dragon she soon fell asleep.
Path raised her head to look down on her rider with a devotion borne of turns of reliance. Her rider was the most dependable, the hardest working, and the best rider in Benden. Of this she was certain. The big bronze bespoke her. "We sleep," she replied.
The next day was fall over the South Benden Steppes. Afterwards, Mirrim took Path to the beach below the dragon stones to scrub off the firestone smell. She lavished attention on Path by pouring oil over her hide then rubbing thoroughly. Her attention to Reppa, Lok and Tolly was thorough as well. Every few minutes, Mirrim gazed out to the Dragon Stones to see if a big Bronze dragon and his rider were perched on the flattest one, third from the end. She returned to Benden Weyr in time to beckon to Felena.
"Have you time to cut my hair?" Mirrim asked when Felena walked out of her cubicle.
Felena merely nodded and opened the curtain allowing Mirrim to slip in. Eyeing the green rider's shoulder-length hair she began first combing it out then snipping until her crop of hair was as short as most of the other riders. She could think of little to say given Mirrim's brooding demeanor. When she finished she asked, "Will you join the kitchen women for dinner?"
"No, I've been washing and oiling Path all afternoon. I do need to wash off. But thank you, Felena, for the invitation and the haircut." She tried to smile but looked down instead then proceeded out of the cubicle. Felena sighed then put away her shears.
Mirrim entered the kitchens from the back hall, gathered some food there rather than the pass-through and return to her lonely weyr. She, Path and the three fire lizards spent their rest day in their little weyr. She cleaned every corner of the rooms making a mental list of items she would need to make it cozier. All the blue and brown dragons took note of where the soon-to-rise green pair had moved.