Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 19. A Trip to High Reaches

Traditionally, the day after a mating flight, everyone took it easy. Today was no exception to the rule. Dragons who had taken part were tired, their riders equally so. The Lower Cavern workers had to catch up on all the tasks that had been put aside during the disruption. Although regular patrols went out as scheduled, they were smaller and stayed out for less time.

‘What if it had been Threadfall today?’ H’rek asked. He and D’gar were sitting out on their ledge, cleaning and mending straps while watching the world go by.

‘Then we’d have had to manage. You’d expect there to be a few more injuries than usual though.’

‘I wonder how Kylara’s feeling?’ he mused. ‘Bet she’s mad that her plans went awry.’

Prideth and her mate were still snuggled together in the entrance to their Weyr, catching the morning sunshine. Neither of their riders had been seen at breakfast, obviously choosing to have refreshments delivered directly to their weyr.

‘Wonder how F’drun’s taking it too?’ He’d not been seen either, but he had a good excuse; staying close to his injured dragon in one of the infirmary weyrs. ‘R’feem’s going over to talk with him later.’

“For all the good that will do.’ H’rek thrust a neck strap under his nose. ‘Do you think I should patch this or cut a new piece?’

‘If I were you, I’d go for new. You could maybe cut this part out,’ he pointed to the area, ‘Use it for repairs elsewhere. Throw the rest into the scrap bin.’

H’rek sighed. ‘They’ll want to know why I need more new hide. We were taught to be thrifty at all times. “Dragonman, avoid excess…”’

‘That’s all to the good, but you don’t want to be relying on weakened straps during Threadfall.’ It was yet another example of the small differences between Benden Weyr and elsewhere. At Fort, he’d have had no problem requisitioning whatever was needed from the stores as and when he wanted it. But Fort had been well-stocked from Turns of regular and generous tithes whereas Benden was only just beginning to receive the amount of supplies they needed as a working Weyr during a Pass.

‘I’ll come with you, if you want. Explain why it’s necessary. Or if a more practical demonstration’s wanted, we could always show what happens if a strap breaks mid-flight. Preferably with the stingy so-and-so on dragon back at the time.’

H’rek laughed. ‘Wouldn’t make you very popular if they had to appoint a new stores master.’

‘No. But better that than you breaking your neck. This place has been too used to making do for too long.’

‘That was down to the previous Weyrleader. Bavi told me.’

‘R’gul. The man who didn’t believe Thread was going to return.’ He’d heard all about that in the infirmary. F’lar had a totally different attitude and leadership style but it was still going to take time to change hidebound ways.

‘I reckon he believes now.’ H’rek turned back to his inspection. ‘Mind you, must be difficult to cope with losing the Weyrleader’s job.’

‘It’s how it goes. Bronze riders know the score.’

They carried on working for a while. ‘I wonder if Ryth ever chased the senior queen at High Reaches?’ H’rek mused. ‘Maybe that’s why the Weyrleader wanted rid of him.’

‘Maybe. I know for a fact that’s why V’vil was sent here. He told me it was because his dragon was close to winning the last mating flight.’

‘You said you were going to go over to High Reaches and look through their records. Perhaps you should do that, while things are quiet around here.’

‘You just want to know the gossip. Greens!’ D’gar rolled his eyes. ‘Gossip and sex. It’s all you’re interested in.’

‘And certain brown riders,’ H’rek growled, lunging for D’gar.

He dodged. H’rek missed and D’gar pinned him to the ground. ‘Oh, really. Well, it’s about time we had a break, don’t you think.’

H’rek smiled up at him. ‘Best idea you’ve had all morning.’

‘Then let’s take this somewhere more comfortable.’

Some time later, D’gar went to join R’feem and B’lin for a bite to eat. H’rek had opted to stay in their weyr and order lunch while he carried on with his repairs.

‘Anything planned for today?’ R’feem asked.

‘I was thinking about going over to High Reaches. We don’t seem to have many records from there and I wanted to try and fill in the gaps.’

‘Keen, aren’t you?’ R’feem raised his eyebrows. ‘It’s supposed to be a rest day.’

‘I like to try and do a good job.’

‘You’re doing well enough. This wouldn’t be about F’drun, would it?’

‘Up to a point,’ D’gar admitted. ‘But it’s also true I don’t have much information about the two who weren’t in his Wing. T’rai and T’burrad.’

‘Depending on how long it takes, you could drop in at Fort as well. Your mother was asking after you when I was there yesterday.’

D’gar groaned. ‘I can imagine.’

‘I reassured her you’d not starved to death yet. She seemed to think they’re not feeding us properly here.’

‘Typical.’ He quickly changed the subject. ‘How’s Ryth?’

‘He won’t be fighting Thread for a few sevendays, that’s for sure. I’ve told F’drun he’s to join us tonight for dinner.’

‘No excuses. No exceptions,’ B’lin added. ‘That was what he said, wasn’t it?’

D’gar nodded. ‘Something like that.’

R’feem looked at them both sternly. ‘I can guess how you both feel, but the man’s got an injured dragon and his pride’s taken a hit as well. Try not to treat him differently than any other member of the Wing.’

D’gar went up to help himself to food. As he’d predicted, there were some tasty cuts of herdbeast on offer. Given Benden Weyr’s thrifty behaviours, no one would let the blooded carcasses go to waste. He filled up a plate, then went over to join the High Reaches riders.

‘Well,’ said V’vil, moving up to give him space to sit. ‘What’s this in aid of?’

‘I’d like to visit your Weyr today, a bit later on.’ It would still be early morning over on the western part of the continent and no one appreciated visitors before breakfast. ‘Wondered if any of you were going for a visit and could introduce me. I need to look up some records.’

T’burrad made a face. ‘I’m barred from leaving the Weyr aren’t I? For fighting the other day.’

‘Ah, yes.’

‘I can fly there with you,’ V’vil offered.

That was good. A bronze accompanying him would add some authority, even if V’vil wasn’t the most welcome back at his home Weyr.

T’rai grinned. ‘Going to spend some time with Pilgra, are you?’

‘None of your business.’ V’vil didn’t say it nastily, though. He turned back to D’gar. ‘As it happens, Pilgra is in charge of the archives, so she’ll be the best placed to show you around.’

‘She’s a queen rider?’

‘Just a junior, but she’s a nice lass. Helpful.’

‘Yes, she’s always been willing to help you out.’ T’rai continued baiting him, then ducked as V’vil aimed a good-natured blow at his head. ‘So, are you after some dirt on F’drun, then?’

He might have known that would come up. ‘No. Just need to update our own records. I’ve got to call in at Fort, as well.’

T’rai looked at him as if he didn’t quite believe it. ‘Ask anyone there about him,’ he said. ‘They’ll all say the same.’

‘I remember you told me about his Wingleader getting killed when a flamethrower blew up.’

‘Yes, and that’s not the half of it.’

’T’rai,’ V’vil warned, sounding more serious this time. ‘Don’t go spreading gossip.’

‘It’s not gossip if it actually happened, is it,’ the green rider protested. ‘But all right. I’ll leave it to someone else to fill in the details.’

‘I’ll be happier to read about it in the records. Get the official version.’

T’burrad smiled. ‘You think stuff like that even gets put in the records? Not sharding likely.’

‘Anyway,’ V’vil interrupted. ‘I’ll get Bitath to tell Herebeth when we’re ready to leave, shall I?’

‘Please.’ He picked up his food and went back to the other end of the table. ‘Well, that was interesting. There’s definitely a story there, but no one wants to tell me all of it.’

‘Weyr gossip,’ R’feem said. ‘Take it with a pinch of salt.’

He was just trying the be fair, D’gar knew. ‘Of course.’ But he resolved to ask as many questions as he could while he was at High Reaches. No one got along well with everyone but if you heard the same story from enough different sources, then there had to be some truth in it.

It was well into the afternoon at Benden before they were ready to leave. ‘Wish I could come along. I’ve never been to another Weyr.’ H’rek said.

‘If it wasn’t official Wing business you’d be more than welcome. Still, tell you what. I can arrange a trip to Fort on our next day off if you’d like it. There might even be a Gather coming up now the weather’s improving.’

‘Really?’ His face lit up. ‘I always wanted to go to one of the big Gathers at Fort, but father wouldn’t allow it as we’d have been away from the farm for too long.’

‘Then we’ll definitely make sure you don’t miss out this Turn.’ He pulled H’rek into a kiss. ‘I probably won’t be back until late. Why don’t you take Rioth to the beach for a swim.’

‘I might. Not so much fun on your own, though.’

‘Well, ask some of the Wing if they want to go too. Or your clutchmates. You can enjoy lying in the sun while I shiver at High Reaches.’

Herebeth and Bitath emerged from between over the mountain range surrounding High Reaches Weyr. The early morning sunshine threw deep shadows between the snow-capped peaks. The air was crisp and cold. Tendrils of smoke and steam rose up from the Weyr’s many vents.

Been a while since we were out this way, he sent to Herebeth. They’d overflown it as part of their weyrling training, learning the coordinates for all the main Weyrs and Holds throughout Pern. High Reaches distinctive feature was the seven rocky spindles surrounding the northern aspect of the Bowl, like a spiky crown.

As they descended, Bitath sent a greeting to the watch dragon, who bugled in reply. They’d barely dismounted from their dragons before a slim woman came over to meet them. Her dark hair was trimmed short; practical for Threadfall. She wore the shoulder knots of a junior weyrwoman over her warm, woollen dress. The Bowl was still in shade and both dragon and human breath was visible in the morning chill.

V’vil looked as if he’d like to hug her, but kept it deliberately more formal. ‘Pilgra, this is D’gar from Fort Weyr. Our Wingsecond at Benden.’

‘Pleased to meet you.’ She had a ready smile. ‘What brings you to High Reaches?’

‘My Wingleader has given me the task of keeping our records up to date. I was wondering if I could have a look through your archives?’

‘Well, you can, of course, but you might not be able to find much. Our records didn’t survive four hundred Turns of neglect too well. We think there must have been holdless folk living here while the Weyr was abandoned and they caused quite a lot of damage. I’ve been on salvage duty since we came forward.’

She led the way, talking in a low voice with V’vil as they walked. D’gar noticed men and women employed in various repair and clearance tasks around the Bowl. High Reaches was looking more like a working Weyr than Fort had when he left. He expected that he’d find his home Weyr a good deal tidier now than when he’d left for Benden.

‘This is it.’ Pilgra said. It was immediately noticeable that the records room felt even colder than outdoors and a musty smell of damp caught in D’gar’s throat. ’I’m afraid the heating system isn’t working in here. They’ve not been able to get it fixed yet. Priority is for the weyrs, naturally.’

‘It’s fine.’ He’d definitely be keeping his wherhide jacket on.

‘You’ve had archive training, I take it?’

He nodded. Once the harpers had noticed that he was quick to learn, he’d spent many a day helping out in Fort Weyr’s records room before he’d Impressed Herebeth.

‘Then you’ll appreciate some of them are very fragile. And these over here…’ she gestured to a pile of disintegrating hides, ‘Are best left well alone. Damp and mould have rendered them mostly illegible anyway.’

‘Well, I’ll copy anything I find useful.’ He patted the satchel containing a couple of rolled hides and his writing materials.

‘We’ll leave you to it,’ V’vil said, obviously keen to have some time alone with Pilgra. ‘And bring you some hot klah in a while, all right?’

‘That would be very welcome.’

Once they’d left, he uncovered a few more glow baskets and set to work. Despite four hundred Turns of neglect, the records room had originally been well organised with slates above each niche giving information on what was contained inside. He skipped over hatching, weyrling training and tithes records, before finding several tightly rolled hides containing information on dragons and riders. It was somewhere to start.

As he unrolled one hide after the other, scanning for any familiar names, the cold settled in his bones and the all-pervading odour grew stronger. How could Pilgra bear to spend any more time in here than she had to, he wondered?

By the time he found anything relevant, his fingers were almost numb. He’d already seen from the records F’drun had brought with him to Benden that V’vil had been demoted from Wingsecond while at High Reaches. F’drun had made some disparaging notes about the man’s incompetence. Yet here, in the comments made by B’vret, the previous Wingleader, V’vil was being recommended to lead a Wing of his own. He made a mental note to ask a few questions about that, although whether he’d get any answers was something else. Maybe Pilgra would be more forthcoming? She’d seemed chatty enough earlier.

He copied down the information he needed, then carefully rolled and replaced the hide where he’d found it. He was just starting to skim the next one when Pilgra returned, carrying a tray with some biscuits and a steaming mug of klah. ‘Bet you’re ready for this by now.’

‘Thanks.’

She set it down on a side table, well away from the hides. ‘I can only stand a couple of hours in here at a time before I have to have a break.’

‘Yes, it’s a bit nippy, for sure.’ He picked up the mug and cradled it, allowing the warmth to thaw out his fingers.

‘Still, it’s out of the way of Merika.’

‘Who?’

‘The Weyrwoman. She’s very impatient with us juniors.’ She gave a little sigh. ‘Still, can’t really do much about that.’

‘Oh?’ He left a space for her to continue, if she wanted. It might ease her into talking about some of the things he wanted to find out

‘She never liked me much from the start, but when Segrith’s first clutch was larger than Elyth’s that was the final straw.’

That would figure. A younger queen often laid more eggs than an older one and Pilgra looked to be only in her mid-twenties. ‘How long ago did you Impress?’

‘Nearly four Turns ago. Well, four hundred and four, really. It’s hard to comprehend sometimes, don’t you find? All those Turns we skipped in a single night.’

He nodded agreement. ‘I know. So, how are you settling in to this modern world?’

‘Not too badly, all things considered. I mean, there was the initial shock of finding our Weyr in such a state. And seeing how the Holds have changed.’

‘More land under cultivation? It’s the same around Fort. Lots of trees, too.’

‘Plus many of the smaller Holds around the High Reaches are only just starting to recover.’

Bad harvests and such like, no doubt. Although ‘bad harvests’ was often an excuse to avoid sending the proper quantity of tithes to the Weyr. ‘Tithing problems, eh?’

‘Well, yes. Only they’ve had a really tough time. Didn’t you hear about Fax? I’d have thought you would have done, what with Lessa being the Weyrwoman at Benden. She’s from Ruatha, you know.’

‘I don’t mix in those exalted circles,’ he smiled. ‘I’m just a lowly brown rider. So, what happened at Ruatha?’

‘All Lessa’s family were slaughtered when Fax invaded. Some of the tales I’ve heard would make your blood run cold.’

‘Now you mention it, I did hear about some Lord running six Holds.’

‘Seven,’ she corrected. ‘Ruatha was the last Hold he took. But he started off in High Reaches.’

‘How could one man possibly hope to look after seven Holds in Threadfall?’ When he’d been told the story, he’d found it hard to believe, but H’rek had confirmed it was true.

‘No Thread for four hundred Turns changes the way people think.’ She glanced over to the table. ‘Found what you’re looking for?’

‘More or less, as far as Wing records go.’ This might be the ideal opportunity to ask her what he was really after. It couldn’t do any harm and she could only say no. ‘I was wondering if there was any more information concerning F’drun.’

‘Our delightful bronze rider.’ She made a face. ‘Probably nothing beyond the ordinary Wing records. Not everything gets written down for posterity. And even if it had, it might be somewhere in that lot…’ She gestured toward the mouldering pile of hides.

It was as much as he’d been told before. ‘Oh, well. It was worth a try.’

‘You’ll have heard the rumours, I expect.’

‘Up to a point, although the riders have all been very discreet.’

‘Old habits…’ Pilgra sighed and turned her large, dark brown eyes on him. ‘V’vil thinks you’re a decent sort. He also told me that F’drun picked on you to bully.’

‘Yes, unfortunately. Hence my interest. Know your enemy.’

‘Very wise. I don’t know much about what he got up to before I came to the Weyr. I was Searched from Tillek. But after I Impressed Segrith, he was all charm. I’d heard some nasty things about him, but I thought it was just gossip. He was so kind to me; a young girl, trying to get used to a whole new way of life and with a demanding baby dragon to look after.’

F’drun being kind. It was hard to imagine. Still, it wasn’t out of character for a bronze rider to befriend a junior weyrwoman in the hope it might give him an advantage when her dragon rose to mate. F’drun had done much the same with Kylara, after all. ‘How long did that go on?’

‘Almost a Turn. It was during that time I started to become friends with V’vil. He’s much closer in age to me, after all and he made me laugh. F’drun was… a little bit creepy if I’m honest. He got jealous if he saw me spending time with anyone else; Lower Caverns women and green riders included.’

D’gar wasn’t surprised. F’drun had obviously intended to keep Pilgra to himself and prevent her from making other acquaintances in her new home. ‘He wanted you to become dependent on him?’ he suggested.

‘More or less. Although, I didn’t realise that right away. I came from a small fish hold, you see. I was shy and the Weyr was so large.’ She gave a shrug. ‘Silly of me, I know.’

‘We all make mistakes, especially when we’re young. So, what happened?’

‘V’vil and F’drun were both Wingseconds in Ogren Wing. It was just after Segrith was a Turn old that the accident happened, when their Wingleader was killed.’

‘The exploding flamethrower? Someone mentioned that.’ He was careful not to name anyone.

‘Well, it was the talk of the Weyr. A lot of people didn’t think it was entirely an accident, you know. But Thread was falling and we’d had quite a few fatalities. T’kul just wanted a new Wingleader in place as soon as possible.’

‘And F’drun was older, with more experience, so he seemed the best choice?’ He could see how that might happen.

‘Sort of. Although there was more to it than that.’ She paused briefly as if unsure whether she should say any more, then evidently decided she might as well. ‘The Weyrleader didn’t like V’vil. Bitath had almost caught Elyth in her last mating flight. T’kul saw him as a threat to his leadership. So he promoted F’drun…’

D’gar heard the sound of boots on the steps an instant before Pilgra did. She turned, guiltily, then when it proved to be V’vil, he noticed that she instantly relaxed.

‘How’s it going?’

‘Not bad. I think I’ve found most of what I was looking for.’ He glanced at Pilgra. ‘We were just having a chat.’

‘Ah.’

‘I was telling him about how F’drun got to be Wingleader.’

‘That old story. You know, I didn’t really want to go to Benden, but it’s been worth it to see that bastard get what he deserves at last. Have you told him why T’kul got rid of F’drun in the end?’

‘I hadn’t got to that part,’ said Pilgra, cautiously.

V’vil perched on the edge of the table and picked up one of the biscuits. ‘I suppose he wasn’t a bad Wingleader as far as fighting Thread went, but that’s not only what it’s about, is it? F’drun liked to have everyone at each other’s throats. While riders were trying to win favour with him by telling tales, or watching their own backs, they weren’t threatening his position. Then there was the bullying. None of us liked it, but the sad fact was that if he was taking it out on some other poor sod, he left you alone.’ He took a bite from the biscuit. ‘They don’t make ‘em as good as this at Benden. Try one.’

D’gar did. The outside was crunchy, with a warm spicy flavour and chewy pieces of dried fruit inside. ’Mmm.’

‘You expect fatalities when you’re fighting Thread, but we had more than most. Greens particularly. He kept them up too long and when dragons are tired, mistakes happen. But we were never at full strength - funnily enough riders always wanted to transfer to other Wings - so he had a ready excuse.’

‘The Weyrleader didn’t ask questions?’

‘I wouldn’t know. I was just a wing rider by then and not privy to any of the discussions between the Weyrleader and his Wingleaders. But it’s part of T’kul’s own policy to move folk around, keep them unsettled. He’s not as downright nasty as F’drun, but he’s getting older and he’s trying to cling on to power. Being a bronze rider at High Reaches can be… difficult.’

‘Merika’s as bad with the queen riders,’ Pilgra put in.

D’gar gave thanks he’d had the good fortune to be born at Fort Weyr. He finished the biscuit and washed it down with the last of the klah.

‘There was this one rider he’d chosen as his victim. S’rul, that was his name.’

D’gar remembered what H’rek had suggested - that there must be some reason behind F’drun’s choices. ‘Did he look anything like me?’

‘Not really. More like your weyrmate. Blond. Bit older than you are, too. He’d been transferred in from Pars Wing. Had a drink problem.’

‘Half of the Weyr has a drink problem,’ Pilgra commented dryly.

’S’rul was worse than most. Still, he’d lost his brother in one Fall and his weyrmate in the next, so it was understandable. He’d have probably got over it if he hadn’t had the misfortune to end up with F’drun as a Wingleader.’

D’gar tried to put himself in the man’s place. If he’d not had R’feem looking out for him after S’brin died; if he’d had to cope with F’drun’s bullying, how would he have managed? Not well, that’s for sure.

‘F’drun was always picking on him. Finding fault, making snide comments. Encouraging him to drink too much, then making fun of him when he fell over or did something stupid. I’m ashamed to say I joined in with the laughter. Like I said, when you were in F’drun’s Wing, you kept your head down and played along with it. Then there was one night - after Threadfall - he got us playing this stupid drinking game. Everyone had too much. S’rul was already further gone than most before we even started, so he lost more times than anyone and had to keep drinking more. A decent Wingleader would have put a stop to it…’ He paused. ‘I should have put a stop to it.’

‘It wasn’t your place,’ Pilgra said.

‘I’m still a bronze rider. I have responsibilities.’ He sighed. ‘But I didn’t do anything. How he got back to his weyr without falling off his dragon is anyone’s guess. It was in the early hours we were all woken by the keening. The dragons knew who’d gone, of course. I was one of the first to get to his weyr. Poor bastard had choked on his own vomit. Died and his dragon gone between. A terrible waste.’ He fell silent.

‘I’m sorry,’ D’gar said, at last. He hadn’t even known the man but the story had shaken him. ‘So that’s why T’kul got rid of F’drun?’

Pilgra and V’vil glanced at each other. ‘Not entirely. It was brushed over. “A tragic accident,” they said. F’drun picked on someone else and life went on as normal. But all of us in the Wing, we knew it was his fault.’

‘And that’s when I started to see the other side of him,’ Pilgra said. ‘Two days afterwards, he was making jokes about it. I took him to task. He didn’t understand it at all. “Who cares what happens to greens,” he said.’

‘Which was absurd seeing as Ryth only ever caught greens,’ V’vil gave a short laugh. ‘F’drun was always sending him up after junior queens, but he just didn’t have the stamina for a long flight.’

‘So what happened with Prideth wasn’t out of the ordinary?’ This was interesting.

‘Not at all. We knew there was no danger he’d catch her. Put some marks on it with the Benden riders, too. It was quite funny to see how worried they were.’

D’gar processed this new information. ‘How many gold flights has he put Ryth to?’

‘Pretty much every one. Segrith’s included. The only time he ever came close was one time when Hana let Linroth gorge and she was too meat-heavy to get far. But even then, he didn’t win.’

‘And thankfully, Ryth dropped out well before Segrith was ready to choose her mate.’ Pilgra flashed a look at V’vil which suggested to D’gar that Bitath was probably the sire of her first clutch. Another reason for his transfer no doubt, if the Weyrwoman disliked him too.

‘Well, that’s all very interesting,’ he said. ‘I appreciate you telling me.’

Pilgra raised her eyebrows. ‘That’s not all, you know. There were several incidents that could be laid at F’drun’s feet during the last few Turns of the Pass. But the one that really clinched it was that ground crew disaster.’

‘Pilgra.’ V’vil’s voice held a warning tone. ‘That’s Weyr business. And it’s recent.’

‘It’s four hundred Turns ago. All of the lad’s family are long since dead themselves.’

‘If it’s Weyr politics, then I’ll understand if you can’t say anything.’ They’d trusted him enough to tell him more than he’d thought to find out, but every Weyr had some secrets they didn’t want spread around.

V’vil and Pilgra looked at each other. At last, V’vil sighed. ‘You’d probably find out anyway. You’re persistent. You ask questions. The long and the short of it is this. Our Wing was on clean up duties, after a Fall over High Reaches Hold. There were some Thread burrows in an orchard. F’drun sent me across with a team to deal with one while he and another couple of riders sorted out the other. Ours was fairly straightforward. They had to do quite a bit of digging for theirs. F’drun had the ground crew doing that, naturally. He wasn’t going to get his own hands dirty. Plus he always liked to keep a flamethrower handy, rather than letting dragons do the flaming. Think he liked the way it made him look to the Holders, you know?’

D’gar remembered F’drun at Benden, the way he’d dialled that flamethrower to maximum and let loose without warning anyone. Yes, it was perfectly in character for the man.

‘Anyway, a couple of the lads in the ground crew were the Lord Holder’s sons. Youngsters, barely out of their teens. Lord Grondin was a hands-on man himself and didn’t hide behind stone walls when Thread fell. Nor would he allow his sons. Bold lads, the lot of them.’

D’gar nodded agreement. The bravery of ground crews was something he’d always admired. At least in the air, you stood some chance. At least your dragon could go between if you hit a patch of Thread.

‘Of course, I wasn’t there. I didn’t see exactly what happened, just the aftermath,’ V’vil continued. First we knew was all the shouting, the cries of pain. The smell…’ V’vil shut his eyes.

D’gar could imagine all too well what he was seeing in his mind’s eye. Re-living it, exactly as he did his own nightmare scenario.

When he spoke again it was quietly, his voice shaking just a little. ‘They’d been digging too close to the burrow. The ground gave way. Three men fell in. One was the older son, Osren. His brother tried to pull him out, but Thread was eating his legs by then. F’drun knocked him away and turned the flamethrower on the whole lot of them in that hole. By the time we got over there, it was all a charred mess, but you could see… you could tell there’d been people in that whole inferno. And you know the worst of it? It was his sharding fault. F’drun’s. The younger son gave testimony that he’d not sounded out the ground as thoroughly as we’re supposed to. He’d encouraged them to dig around the entrance of the burrow, so he wasn’t kept hanging around too long.’

‘But nothing happened to him?’

V’vil shook his head. ‘By the time the funerals were done and the investigation begun, we’d fought our last Threadfall. F’drun had the Wing taken away from him, but by then it didn’t matter. Then, of course, we came forward, so T’kul took the opportunity to make F’drun someone else’s problem. Sent him to Benden along with the rest of us he didn’t want around.’

After he finished speaking, the cold of the records room seemed to press in more deeply.

‘So, now you know,’ V’vil said. ‘You’ll appreciate why you should be careful. Don’t ever trust him. We certainly don’t.’