Chapter Fourteen
In the predawn light T'gellan woke with a start. His neck was stiff from lying on Monarth's foreleg. Monarth was awake, regarding his rider with pale yellow eyes. He rose and walked to his bed chamber to change into less rumpled clothes and splash some water on his face. As he returned to Monarth he asked, "Well?"
"They are in their weyr. They sleep."
Clarity hit as he realized that Mirrim had not gone to the infirmary. T'gellan flew down the steps and across the bowl. As he burst into the infirmary, Goren woke with a start knocking over the cot and the cup of medicine he had prepared for Mirrim the night before.
"You said she'd stay the night here!" T'gellan accused.
Goren, sprawled on the floor, rubbed his eyes and looked up at the tall rider. "Yeah, as if I could command her any better than you. I stayed up until she left the cavern then she refused to comply. Flew off on her dragon, I suppose, to her high weyr. Said she'd comply in the morning." Goren got to his knees then painfully rose.
"That's where Monarth says she is, sleeping."
"Well, then," Goren continued as he retrieved the cup, held it upside down then looked inside at the gelled mass, "she'll wake up sore, probably too sore to get back down here unassisted. Take your great bronze beast and retrieve her before the rest of the Weyr wakes. I hope the binding on her ribs didn't loosen." He walked to the back of the infirmary unshielding glows then turned to T'gellan who hadn't moved.
"Go, go," he said, making shooing gestures with his hands.
"I can't," T'gellan replied. "Monarth is too big for her weyr. We can't land." His brow furrowed, at a loss for his next course of action. Suddenly he tore towards the door, "I'll see who is on the heights. I'll be right back." Calling to his dragon to land in the bowl, he exited the infirmary.
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Mirrim hadn't slept well at all. She wished that she had at least gotten a dose of fellis the night before but she wanted to be alone with Path and was tired of men, including Goren. She had asked Path to bespeak Boath, G'lenan's dragon, as soon as they woke. Even S'bald's Lieth had become too big for the lip of her weyr.
Path was agitatedly droning again. Mirrim was trying her best to not let Path know how difficult it was to move. She heard Boath in her mind along with Path and breathed a sigh of relief. She was sorry she hadn't hung up the dress, scarf and petticoat now. G'lenan would find how she left them the night before. She was certain the gather gown had been his idea. The opening to her weyr darkened. G'lenan was beside her in a moment.
"Do me this favor, G'lenan," she asked as his face came into view. "Would you be a dear and hang up my gather gown and scarf. I don't want S'bald or F'niral to find out I left them on the floor last night."
G'lenan shook his head, seeing through her ruse. "We'll get you to the infirmary first then I'll come back and clean up this messy excuse of a weyr."
Mirrim tried to instruct G'lenan on how to lift her but she cried out enough to make both dragons croon with worry. Boath lay flat so that G'lenan could strap Mirrim to her neck. He sat behind her and leaned forward with one arm around her. "Take us down, Boath." The green dragon crawled to the lip then snaked out her wings to glide to the bowl floor. She landed on the ramp to the infirmary. Path landed on the ledge above, her eyes spinning yellow. Monarth was perched on his ledge across the bowl watching the scene so that T'gellan knew what to expect as he opened the door.
Mirrim was unconscious. G'lenan held her limp body as T'gellan quickly unstrapped them then gingerly pulled her into his arms. She moaned. G'lenan opened the door then all slipped through.
Goren was still marveling at the gelled concoction of boneset and fellis that he was unprepared to receive T'gellan's burden. He quickly pulled a table out and instructed that she should be laid on it. "Go now, T'gellan, G'lenan" He had already turned to his shelves pulling a light blanket and wedge-shaped pillow along with a sharp knife that he was surprised to find the riders still standing over Mirrim.
"Go!, No wait!" Goren said as he looked down on Mirrim. "Get Brekke. NO, not Brekke, Get Manora, if she'll come, or Sanra or Willa, get one of the women!"
Both dragon riders struggled through the infirmary door at the same time then fled down the ramp. At the bottom, T'gellan hesitated as G'lenan disappeared through the wide, low opening to the lower caverns. He straightened, turned and deliberately ascended the slope back into the infirmary. "You need help now. Manora is tending to breakfast."
Goren looked up holding a shred of the binding he had removed. "No, T'gellan, I will not work on her while you are present. You won't understand my ministrations any better than I understand your rituals. Please leave."
"I'm all you have for an assistant. She's my werymate. I owed it to Path to stay." He knew it wasn't a good enough reason for the crotchety healer but his unease of the last few months had become desperation. He didn't want to divulge the conflict between Monarth and him since kicking Mirrim and Path out of his weyr.
"Precisely why you cannot stay," Goren had moved in front of Mirrim's table approaching T'gellan. He was an old hand at kicking weyrmates out of his infirmary. His heart was heavy enough knowing he had to work on his journeywoman. He wasn't about to let this man know his new-found aversion to dragonriders.
Willa had entered through a side passage directly behind T'gellan. Placing her hand on his arm, she looked into his face. "Please leave, T'gellan. You can come back once we have her settled."
Gently he removed her hand, spun on a heel and walked out, defeated.
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Willa entered the large dining area toward lunch time. She nodded to T'gellan which was all the indication he needed to return and sit vigil.
"She'll not wake until right before sunset," Goren drawled from his apothecary. "Get something to eat, feed or oil or fly your dragon. You look terrible." T'gellan stayed, stroking her face, pushing back her hair. He pulled the light blanket up to her neck so he didn't have to see the bruising and scrapes. The last thing she had said to him was "Not you too; don't you abandon me too." He held his head in his hands.
Two hours into his brooding, Mornath bespoke him, "The Weyrleader calls you to council."
"Will Path answer you?" T'gellan thought back.
"She waits for dusk", Monarth answered. " Why dusk?"
"The sleep potion will wear off by dusk and Mirrim will wake." T'gellan thought toward Monarth.
"The Weyrleader calls you to council."
T'gellan stood and walked through Willa's hallway not at all surprised to find it intersected with the larger hall to council chambers. He was one of the last Wingleaders to arrive. N'ton was present as well as Benden's three junior queens. In his hands was the familiar basket of marbles. He wondered what kind of lots involved Fort Weyr too. Talina beckoned to him, excitement dancing in her dark eyes. F'lar raised his arms for silent. "Landing needs a Weyr". Spontaneous chatter erupted. "Each Weyr except Southern will send a wing," F'lar raised his voice. "Talina and Arwith of Benden go." Several riders congratulated her.
As the basket of marbles came by T'gellan drew the black with bronze strip. Not only had his wing become part of Landing's new Weyr but he was acting Weyrleader until one of the queens rose. He looked to F'lar who beamed, then to Talina beside him, triumphant eyes shining.
"Monarth, call my full wing to the side council cavern," T'gellan thought toward his dragon. "Bespeak Formarth and relay to S'lozan the news. I will be there soon". The three Weyrleaders and queen rider sat to table and began planning. N'ton excused himself and the basket soon after to fly to High Reaches for their contribution.
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When T'gellan returned to the infirmary at dusk, Mirrim was awake and speaking low with G'lenan who was leaning far enough over to rest his arms on her cot. One hand played with her cropped hair above her ear and the other cupped his chin. Her hand rested on his shoulder. As T'gellan walked toward the back, Mirrim looked up at him and merely nodded. G'lenan rose to face T'gellan.
Saluting, G'lenan said, "Congratulations Wingleader to your promotion to Landing Weyr."
T'gellan, returning the salute the holding his hand out, replied, "I thank you, green rider G'lenan. I believe you said you wanted to remain at Benden. I have already been approached by a few riders who want to switch to our wing."
"Yes, I do wish to stay," G'lenan said, first gripping T'gellan's forearm then looking down. "I also don't want to leave your wing."
T'gellan nodded. "S'lozan wanted to be selective on who trades out. He's already told me that he'd rather you go with us. You do have three more days to make a decision. At least visit Landing. Mirrim can vouch for its..."
"Yes, Wingleader," G'lenan interrupted then nodded, "Our wing does have much to decide in three days." He looked briefly to Mirrim in sorrow then exited.
T'gellan sat and reached for Mirrim's hand. He noticed the bruised and cut knuckles. He brought it to his lips for a kiss then lowered his head as he tried to think how to begin now that she already knew about his re-assignment. When he finally looked up he saw that her gaze has not left him. "I can't feel her, Monarth," he pleaded. "Please tell me what she thinks."
Monarth did not reply.
"You didn't submit," He finally stated.
She sighed. "It is not in our nature."
"I should have insisted on Monarth in Path's first mating flight."
"I doubt it would have made a difference." She tried to pull her hand away but he held onto it.
"I should have listened to you rather than F'lar or B'mezal or Brekke or any of the blue and brown riders. I left you to face them alone."
"I wasn't alone, T'gellan," Mirrim cut in. "Path and I were together. You did help me come to terms with her rising. Those few days in our own weyr… we needed that. And we're … what's been said about a green's mating flight," she smiled and sighed, "too true."
"You were beaten, worse than anything done to you at the Farmcrafthall." T'gellan spat. Mirrim pulled her hand away and shifted uncomfortably on her cot. They were silent with their own thoughts.
When he looked up at her, her eyes were closed. The swelling on her cheek and lip were down but now they were a pre-dawn purple. "G'lenan told you about the new Weyr in Southern, eh?"
"Yes. Congratulations, T'gellan. You will make a superb Weyrleader." She replied with a small smile.
"I'm only acting Weyrleader until one of the queens rises."
Mirrim opened her eyes and chuckled, "In three months Arwith will rise and only Monarth will catch her. You will be Weyrleader."
T'gellan touched her face lightly on the uninjured side. "G'lenan wants to stay at Benden. I know we decided you shouldn't be in my wing but trade with him. You can switch out once we're at Landing."
She looked away.
"Mirrim, I can't just take you from Benden."
"I'm not going," she replied.
T'gellan leaned back, stood then sat back on the stool. With an oath under his breath he continued, "If you think I'm best to be Landing's Weyrleader then who best to stand beside me than you? You grew up in Southern. You're a journeyman Healer. You know the duties of a headwoman and you're a dragon rider. I need you. The new Weyr needs you."
"If I go, then Talina will never allow Arwith to be caught by Monarth and I won't be the cause of that. Besides, I am banned, remember?"
T'gellan smiled grimly, "Have you no faith in Monarth?"
"This I know, love, I had control of Path on her first mating flight. Every last one of you told me it was not possible, even warned against it. What problems will Talina cause if I am at her Weyr too? No, Brekke saw it turns ago. She said you were destined to be a Weyrleader and I am not going to be the reason why somebody else leads Landing's new weyr. Not when F'lar and F'nor groomed you for it. Look at all the Benden-trained Weyrleaders: T'bor at High Reaches, and N'ton at Fort. This is your part of F'lar's plan to preserve Pern."
"You give Talina too much credit."
"You don't give her enough."
"I love you, not her."
"That's not the point," Mirrim rose in her bed then abruptly lay back down, grimacing. "Her ambitions, she aspires to be like Lessa. She fancies their resemblance makes them kin. Both Ruathan, both queen riders and now she has the opportunity to be the foremost Weyrwoman of a brand new weyr. And she knows like the rest of the women at Benden, you are destined to be Weyrleader. She wants you, without me. Never me."
T'gellan had been shaking his head even though he saw her logic. He knew Talina too well. Mirrim was right. "I can't just let you go."
"T'gellan, I let you go."
They stared at each other for what seemed an eternity; Mirrim broke the lock on his eyes by looking away. Quietly she said, "I'm always going to love you but I am a green rider and green riders know: We can't keep a hold on a bronze."
"This isn't the end of us," T'gellan said as he rose. He looked down on her waiting for her to look at him. Goren walked around the corner of the apothecary and waved the dragonman away. He gave Mirrim one more look then stalked towards the door. Monarth met him at the ramp. T'gellan hefted to his back and fastened his riding straps. As they rose, he imagined the dragon stones. He needed to think.