Chapter Nineteen
Yesterday, Benden's wings had fought a full, six-hour threadfight over their own weyr, the fertile eastern valleys, the hillsides full of vineyards, Benden Hold and almost to the plateaus of Bitra. Not one injury or mishap occurred to the great satisfaction of The Weyrleader and his Wingleaders. Best yet, no thread got through the ranks rendering the ground crews inactive. Rest day was tomorrow but today, the Weyrleader granted an extra day of rest. That was how pleased F'lar was with his riders and their dragons. The day was cloudless with only a hint of frost in the shadows where the sun had yet to reach. It was a beautiful day to appreciate before a harsh northern winter.
C'logar carried his bowl of porridge to the table where S'bald and G'lenan were seated. He sat across from them in Mirrim's usual place. "What plans have you for a free day?" he asked.
Both green riders shrugged. "It's too early to send a fire lizard to Soromiah to find if she can break free from her duties. We'd already made plans for tomorrow." G'lenan said.
S'bald added, "Waste your restday on that girl tomorrow. We should go to one of the island beaches or south of Nerat and let our dragons play in the surf."
C'logar and G'lenan brightened. "To be sure, that's a proper reward!" C'logar replied. "We need at least nine more green riders then we can have a play at Surfs on Nerat's Tip."
The three green riders searched the breakfast crowd to find at least eight more eager faces. B'mir and H'race were approaching with their own bowls of porridge while another of their hatchmates, B'salk, picked up his bowl and left a disappointed T'gor to join S'bald's table.
S'bald slapped his hands together rubbing them back and forth. He looked to a table of older riders where he spied K'tonar who winked then walked over gesturing to two other green riders, F'rined and T'mbren. F'niral and G'naret were already slurping down their porridge in order to hurry over to S'bald's table.
C'logar and G'lenan surveyed the rest of the tables for another green rider. "We're one rider short." C'logar said in dismay. No other riders made eye contact or waved that he'd like to join. Playing in the breakers off Nerat Tip was a young rider's pleasure and his dragon could not be too big. The other riders understood implicitly that only green riders were welcomed on this jaunt.
"Maybe Mirrim?" B'mir suggested.
G'lenan and S'bald exchanged glances. "She's run her low long enough," S'bald said with a nod.
"It could lift her humor. I mean all her green hatchmates are going." G'lenan added. "I know where she intended to spend her free day. She left early before she got saddled with herb gathering or some other healer duty. Boath and I will pop in and tell her that she must spend this special restday with us."
"I'd give her another sevenday. The Weyrleader imposed the latest lots only three days ago," warned C'logar. "I shall accompany you, brave G'lenan." S'bald clouted his hatchmates on their shoulders before they exited the lower caverns. He remained standing in order to direct the other riders. B'mir and H'race were to collect victuals while K'tonar offered to check the maproom and F'rined decided to check tide tables. The rest of the green riders soon exited to the bowl as well, leaving the remaining riders bemused.
###
B'nard and F'tamad sat to breakfast with blue riders, B'ric and K'boral, who were also Mirrim's hatchmates. F'tamad began, "Did either of you find out who drew the latest lots for Path?"
B'ric took a sip of klah then nodded. "S'alator pulled one, he's willing to barter." Both B'nard and F'tamad looked over heads for the squat bald man.
K'boral grunted. "S'alator just got off third watch. He's ate and rose to his weyr already."
B'nard tucked into his porridge and mulled over his klah. Path rose with regular frequency this past turn. Twice now, Mowalth had almost twined with Path. On the maiden flight Path attached herself to Fidith. The most recent flight was won by T'gor's Relth. Both times Mirrim's elbow connected with his eye. It may have healed but not his conscience. Like a bad dream he replayed Path's drop then the abrupt return to the pit as Mirrim clung to an astounded G'net or worse, exultant T'gor. B'nard had turned away immediately and marched out of the pit. Mowalth was devastated. In the latest set of lots, B'nard was not fortunate enough to pull a green marble out of the basket.
He had begun visiting his boyhood home of Endyar after receiving a curious report from his mother, Lady Balla. She alluded that her cousin, Bonogan and his refusal to accept Lord Larad's decision that Bolard as the legitimate heir, was the reason for Endyar's latest misfortunes. Although he enjoyed the visits, something tugged at the hairs on the back of his neck. Had his twin abandoned their kin, taking his heirs? Would Bolard leave his wife, Bagira, with child and only the daughters? Bonogan would be the first beneficiary if none of Arden's issue were fit to hold. Bolard and sons' absence from Endyar was too convenient, especially after Arden's death by freak accident. Then there were the thefts and disappearances of holders who looked to Endyar. The resident harper didn't return after his visit to his crafthall the previous turn. If he wasn't held to Benden by Mowalth, he would hold Endyar, find the root of their misfortune and burn it out.
Absently he rubbed the thin knife scar on his arm while his thoughts turned to Mirrim and her green Path. She was a clever one, Mirrim; she saw troubles differently than most other riders. But, she was so unapproachable. If her hair was longer, straighter; she could be Bagira's twin. Mowalth wanted Path and Mirrim was not unappealing. However several other blue and brown riders still wanted that pair too. Path was gleaming again.
###
Mirrim and Path were settled on the dragon stone spire third-furthest from the shore. They faced south and remained like statues. A warm wind gusted from the south carrying the briny scent of the sea. Some waves capped white froth as they passed the spires on their way to the sandy shore. The sun was still climbing towards its zenith in a clear sky.
Path inclined her head slightly to the right. "Boath and her rider come." A moment later, a green dragon soared over their heads, performed a quick turn on a wing and landed on the adjacent spire.
G'lenan raised his right arm with his gloved hand fanned out in a welcoming gesture. Mirrim returned the salute. "What brings you?" She called out. He cupped his hand to his ear and yelled back words that the wind caught before she could hear. "Why does Boath bring her rider to break our solitude?" she asked of Path.
"Boath invites us. Miloth does too. The rollers on Nerat Tip are high. We go?" Path replied with a hopeful quality. C'logar and Miloth hovered on the breeze above them.
She raised her arm in greeting to C'logar who waved vigorously. "Ask them how many?"
"We are wanted for Surfs. Miloth's rider begs us to be in his set." Path answered. She lifted her wings and bugled toward the green floating above her.
Mirrim chuckled. It was difficult to deny her dragon a bit of water sport. They would feel the day's warmth more at the southeastern tip of the Northern Continent. She held her right fist up and circled it twice. This time she heard G'lenan's cheer. She buckled her riding straps then cinched down her helmet before giving Path the request to rise. "Call in Reppa, Lok and Tolly, please. Get a reference point from Boath too."
When all three green dragons had attained a safe height they disappeared. Only a young boy, knee deep in a tide pool witnessed the event. He had been leaning over, picking spiderclaws out of the rocks when two green and a brown fire lizard zipped by him. He stood in time to see the green dragons. The three fire lizards rose to the same height before they too, popped out of sight. The other children continued working the tide pools and he knew to keep such things to himself. Otherwise how would his wish come true?
###
When Mirrim and Path appeared due south of Nerat Tip, the rollers were boiling over the worn rocks, breaking too late for dragons to ride them. However, the tide was coming in and by the time the sun was at its highest in the sky the waves would curl beautifully.
Path veered with Miloth and Boath toward one of the islands dotting the sheltered waters off Nerat Tip. Several dragons were already playing in the surf. Path gave Mirrim barely enough time to strip her of her riding straps at the waters edge before she bugled to her weyrmates then hopped and dove into the water. Mirrim quickly shed the wherhide jacket, pants and boots. She was glad to have put on shorts like what she used to wear in Southern that morning. She pulled off her woolen shirt revealing a sleeveless shift that reached to the bottom of the shorts. She continued to walk toward the group of young men who were assembled above the wrack marking the storm line.
G'lenan joined her. "Did you Time it back to Benden for such perfect swimming gear?"
Mirrim chuckled, "I was planning to wash and oil Path when the sun was at its highest."
"So you were simply setting on a spire in the sea until then, waiting." G'lenan stated more than asked.
Mirrim halted to look at G'lenan who stopped as well. "We had some thinking to do. We're done thinking now." She tossed her gear onto a thick, gnarled branch partially buried in the dark sand. She took care to place her boots upright and backpack beside them before dashing to the waves.
G'lenan was still shucking his gear. "Hey! Wait! What'yer done thinking about?" He began running down the beach after her. She was far ahead of him, already past her knees in the waves before making a clean, shallow dive.
S'bald, B'mir and F'niral lifted their heads in mild interest, laughing. Their general curiosity about their lone female green rider was never secret.
"She seems happier away from the Weyr," B'mir noted.
"She's more comfortable among her green brothers. No blue or brown riders following her every move." S'bald said.
F'niral chuckled. "No women snubbing her company."
"And! No Weyrleaders demanding she choose a regular partner. Could you imagine if they imposed that on all of us?" S'bald added while shaking his head.
"They did impose it on all of us," F'niral countered. "That's why I was so quick to move into D'wer's weyr.
"And right back out!" C'logar added as he walked up the beach and placed his gear over a low bush. He put his hand on F'niral's shoulder so that he could pry off his boots.
F'niral braced himself to help C'logar. "All of us declared for the first blue or brown that'd consent except Mirrim and G'lenan."
"T'mbren, were lots pressed upon your green hatchmates?" C'logar raised his voice to the older green rider sitting with K'tonar and F'rined.
"No. None of us were. But then none of us ever had more than twenty rise on our dragons." T'mbren looked toward the sea where Mirrim and the rest of the riders were cavorting in the waves.
The men were silent for a moment before S'bald broke their reverie. "C'mon, we came to play."
For the next few hours the green riders rode their dragons as they dove through the waves. When the sun was high the twelve riders and their dragons flew out to the tip of the continent where the rollers from the sea met the shallow Nerat Stream, the current that brought rich nutrients in warm water up the eastern coast of the northern continent. Sailors were wary of the confluence for its unpredictable choppy waters and vicious undertow. When the eastern tides, pulled by Pern's twin satellites, rose, the waves grew mountainous. The game was to ride as many dragons down the crest then lift before the wall of water crashed. Turns ago, in the shadows of the past, Weyrleaders decreed that no more than six at a time were to try the waves. Even oldtimer riders knew the injunction. Rarely had more than four been able to stay together then lift simultaneously. The fun was in sliding. Executing the maneuver in the air took turns of practice, water made it fun.
When the tide turned, the riders returned to their gear and some rest. They moved further up the beach under the shade of new fronds. S'bald and K'tonar broke off from the group and walked further inland. B'salk and F'rined ambled down the beach. The rest stretched out in a random order. Mirrim moved off to the side, gathered a few dry leaf blades and began weaving a mat. When she was done she sat upon it and began another. T'mbren watched her fingers flip the long thin strips. He stood and picked up several and brought them to her.
"Those are worthy of sale at a Gather. Would you show me how to do that?" he asked, holding out his collection.
She smiled her assent, presenting to him her partially finished mat. "Here, take this one."
"Aye, Mirrim, you should teach us all and then you could tend a stall at every Gather this turn." C'logar's voice floated from under one of the palm-shaped fronds. Good natured laughter followed that statement, given Mirrim's dislike of crowds, especially at Gathers.
B'mir propped up on one elbow and added, "Make a few hundred so that we can use the profits for wine. Why, we might even get you to dance, with enough profit."
Mirrim shrugged at T'mbren as a few more of her weyrmates ribbed her. For once, she looked pretty with the sunrays dappling her hair and skin through the leaves. T'mbren scooted beside her with the mat in front of him listening to her explain the over and under technique. She finished a second one as he was completing the mat she had given him. He smiled winningly as he pushed it under his seat. As he leaned toward her, he slipped his arm behind her then kissed her cheek.
Mirrim moved away to look at him then shook her head. He shrugged good-naturedly then picked up some more leaf strips and began making another mat. When Mirrim finished her third mat she placed it behind her head then leaned back. With her arms cushioning her head she composed herself for a nap. T'mbren gave up on his second mat then shifted closer to her. When S'bald and K'tonar returned they plopped down beside them. S'bald rested his head on Mirrim's belly. K'tonar rested his on S'bald's. Mirrim rubbed the top of S'bald's head and tickled his ear.
"This was a wonderful idea, S'bald. Thanks for sending for me."
"I'm glad you came with us." S'bald replied. "It does my mind good to see you have fun again."
She uttered a snort in response.
"And hear you laugh too," K'tonar added. "I hadn't heard you laugh since T'ge… since I don't remember."
"You are allowed to mention T'gellan's name in front of her," G'lenan's voice floated from several recumbent bodies away.
"Oh," both K'tonar and T'mbren exclaimed.
"I thought he was the reason you have not chosen a partner," T'mbren added.
"I have not chosen a partner because I object to the injunction." Mirrim removed her hand from S'bald's head. Her hatchmates chuckled.
K'tonar sat up and stared down at Mirrim. "You make no sense. You could make a choice and be done with lots. Mirrim opened her eyes and stared at K'tonar until he became uncomfortable. "But, why do you want to put the blue and brown riders through the lots?"
"I'm not making them clamor for marbles; that would be the Weyrleader." Mirrim said soberly then closed her eyes.
"My stars, you're stubborn." K'tonar replied with a nervous laugh.
Several of Mirrim's hatchmates replied with guffaws and a few comments that ranged from "That's an understatement" to "You just figured that out?"
K'tonar shifted closer to Mirrim, "Then you are not waiting for T'gellan to send for you? I mean that's what most blues and browns think. They don't object to the lots, mind you. So many want a go at you and Path."
"I was so unaware, K'tonar."
"Didn't you know that she's quite acerbic too?" S'bald drawled.
"I'm realizing a lot more." K'tonar replied. He stood and began walking away. "Where are the meatrolls?"
Mirrim sighed and sat up. "Move your head S'bald." She rose and walked after K'tonar. She stopped by her gear and grabbed her lunch. As she stepped beside him, she proffered him her meatroll.
K'tonar continued to gaze at the surf then looked down on her. Taking the roll he said, "Many of those blue riders who vie for a chance at you are my friends. They're obsessed. They haggle and bet for the chance. And you don't care what trying and failing for you and Path does to them."
"As I said before, K'tonar, I am not the one forcing them. I am forced along with them." Mirrim watched his profile while he bit down on the roll and chewed. She sighed. "Do you know how many times until Path rose that I heard that I am a green rider and no different than any other green rider? I heard it plenty; I think you even said the same. Yet whenever our leaders decide to single me out for being a woman on a green dragon, they do. If I hadn't flown out at dawn this morning I'd be gathering redroot with the women right now. Another one of those different rules is imposing lots unless we're weyered with another. I don't blame my hatchmates for getting around the rule. But, if I did the same, F'lar would simply impose another rule on me."
"F'lar imposed lots because no green ever had the entire Benden population of blues and browns fly after her. It was shocking to watch," K'tonar paused. "No green rider should have to endure that. Not even the lone woman green…" He looked at her then turned away, awkwardly. Those sea green eyes penetrated his as if she could divine his thoughts.
He took another bite of his roll and returned to gazing at the waves. Until today, he hadn't cared for Mirrim much. A slight resentment existed for her hold on a bronze rider and a greater jealousy existed for her ability to turn so many blue and brown riders' heads. K'tonar had enjoyed the attention of those same men until she impressed Path. Dablarth was a well formed green dragon and as muscular as her rider. K'tonar flexed his arms unconsciously and stood a bit straighter. He had struggled with his disdain of Mirrim because she took the attention he had relished. If it hadn't been for his attraction to S'bald, he would have found a way out of the today's plan once he knew that Mirrim had been invited. Now he only felt shame. Mirrim was not who he had imagined her to be.
"Remember the lesson B'fol and I taught you in the pit? During your weyrling days? I had emphasized how green riders must always submit to their dragon's desires?" K'tonar stopped with his thoughts. Perhaps this wasn't the manner in which to amend for his invidious thoughts. "It's healthy for her rider too, to submit to his desires."
Mirrim looked sideways at him, "I'm not celibate, K'tonar."
"That's not what I was implying, it's that you're, well. You don't seem to," He searched for words that wouldn't offend her but still satisfy his curiosity. "I'm sorry that I said that I though you were waiting for T'gellan."
She grimaced before stating, "Didn't you, during my weyrling days, say how a green can't hold onto a bronze?"
"But the two of you really loved each other and he just left you for Eastern right after Path's first mating flight."
"I'll let you in on a secret, T'gellan asked me to go with him but I told him no."
His jaw dropped. "Incredible!" was all K'tonar could say after a moment. "You let a bronze rider go. I don't think that a green rider has ever done that before. So why don't you move on?" K'tonar kept to himself his thoughts that T'gellan had quite easily moved on and with very little effort considering how the weyr talked of their bond like it was as unbreakable as F'lar and Lessa's or as potent as D'namal and Willa's.
"You mean move on like a typical green rider; three or four lovers a turn, not counting Gathers and Festivals?"
K'tonar exhaled in frustration, "Just quit giving them a long chase without the satisfaction of submitting to one."
"I hear you," Mirrim replied during his pause, "Path revels in the chase but at some point I have to make her choose or she'd exhaust us and the dragons persistently after her. So far she's not had a preference for any of the dragons who have caught her."
"You mean she hasn't truly been caught?" K'tonar chuckled. "No wonder, G'net still boasts about it."
"I suppose I should make a choice for the two of us and be done with the lots. Perhaps, Lessa would allow women on the sands to impress greens if I did. I have at least proven to be an adequate rider in fighting thread."
"You're one of the best," K'tonar rounded on her. "Neither Dablarth nor I would mind you and Path on our wing."
"You'd leave F'lar's wing for us?" Mirrim asked so sweetly that he almost missed the mischievous gleam in her eye.
He clouted her a bit harder than he meant and he marveled at how stoutly she absorbed it. "I was thinking more that you'd leave S'kel's wing to join us."
"Thanks for the compliment," Mirrim replied. "I couldn't leave my Wing."
In the lull of the conversation, K'tonar thought of the blue rider to his right in F'lar's wing. Now, there was a man who'd trade to S'kel's wing to ride on her left. That man was Mowalth's rider B'nard. For all that man's taciturn manners, his obsession with Mirrim was obvious, at least to his wingmates. K'tonar wanted to ask Mirrim so many more questions which warred with his new-found respect for her. She and Path were a constant topic among his comrades, especially whenever Path started gleaming. He looked to his Dablarth who was sprawled on the sand with eleven other green dragons; Path was a shade deeper than the rest. Only greens would heap upon each other. No other color would mass together. He chuckled at the thought of bronzes piled over each other in blissful somnolence.
Mirrim chuckled with him, "See Leith's tail flicking over Dablarth's snout?"
K'tonar wondered again if she was able to divine his thoughts when Dablarth reared her head back on her neck and yawned. A growl emitted at the end which caused the other dragons to disentangle. A few shifted then stood, flapping their wings to rid their hides of sand.
"I'm dry and so is Path, I think I'll head back to Benden," Mirrim said.
K'tonar eyed the sky. "I suppose we all should." He followed her back to the gear. Most of the other riders had congregated around the sacks of food that B'mir was handing out. H'race handed Mirrim a wineskin from which she drank before handing to K'tonar.
They finished their meal. Already, S'bald had invited all of the riders to come to his weyr for a soak before dinner. Mirrim was the only rider to decline. Once airborne she was the first to go between. From Benden's bowl the green riders looked like an overhead spiral of emerald wings popping in perfect timing, descending then spinning off to their own holes in the massive walls of Benden.
Riders had been returning leisurely from their extra rest day. Some were burnt from too much time in the sun; others brought back fruits of their forays into the back country of the northern and southern continents. The women of the lower caverns were slow to deliver food since the riders were ambling in for a meal and lingering. Talk, laughter and some singing set the tone for the evening.
The green riders who played on Nerat Tip entered as a group and sat to a side table. When Oharan began playing a three-step melody, B'mir took Mirrim's reluctant hand and danced her around their table. S'bald then H'race stepped in and each rider danced a few steps with her. The last rider to hold her was K'tonar. He leaned in close to her ear, "I ask even as I know the answer; come to my weyr tonight."
She laughed.
"Come to anybody's weyr tonight, Mirrim. Don't always wait for Path to rise."
She leaned her head against his shoulder then replied, "I won't always sleep alone, K'tonar. You gave me a lot to think about and I'd like to think on it by myself tonight." When the song ended she hugged him affectionately before stepping back to applaud Oharan and his small ensemble of weyr musicians.
As the music picked up tempo, Weyrfolk moved the tables and benches back for more space. Mirrim and her group sat at their table oblivious to the rest of the room. Mirrim in her usual position, faced away from observers while S'bald, facing her, watched them. K'tonar sat beside S'bald and enjoyed the number of times he met the gazes of blue and brown riders. He smiled broadly at B'nard each time he caught the man looking his way.
B'nard had visited his brother's family at Endyar Hold. He had toyed with staying the night but was counting on dining with his wingmate to discover what kind of day he had enjoyed with the other green riders, especially since one of those greens had been Mirrim. He had not missed the dancing or the embrace that Mirrim gave K'tonar. The restday was going to be long before he could casually mention what he wanted to know. Something had changed in K'tonar's attitude concerning Mirrim and perhaps that something would help him the next time he was fortunate enough to hold a marble on Path.
Three nights later, as B'nard and Mowalth sat third watch in place of S'alator, he rolled the green marble in his hand. The next time Path rose, Mowalth would catch her and B'nard would set his plans in motion.