Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 28. A Memorable Day

D’gar woke, alone again, save for Herebeth’s sleeping presence at the back of his mind. Not quite the same as having H’rek sharing his bed, but reassuring in that at least there was someone in his life who would never leave him. He could do this, he told himself. He’d coped before, after S’brin died. At least H’rek was still alive and well. At least there was the possibility, however remote it might seem right now, that he would come back.

Threadfall today. A late one, which he always hated. The only good thing was that it also meant no exercises for the Wing this morning. He could stay in bed a while longer before having to face breakfast.

Dawn sent slivers of grey light under the curtain, illuminating the interior of the weyr, which he’d tidied up since the party. If H’rek did walk in, he’d not be able to say it was untidy. Not that it was likely he’d walk in any time soon. Southern was a couple of hours ahead of Benden, time-wise, so they had probably already started work. And even if he decided that he wanted to listen to D’gar’s side of the story, now that the Weyr was habitable again there would be no reason to return here until his first month’s duty was over. No, if he wanted to sort things out, D’gar would have to go south again and hope that he could talk to H’rek on his own. Perhaps Bavi might be able to help him out there? H’rek seemed to value her advice.

D’gar listened to the sounds of the Weyr waking up to another day. The faint clatter from the kitchens below, amplified through the service shaft. A gurgle of plumbing. The sound of warm air flowing through the ducts and the swoosh of water circulating in his bathing pool. From outside, the unmistakeable sound of dragon wings. Someone must be going to the feeding ground early this morning.

It is Ramoth, Herebeth supplied, sounding very alert for a dragon who had, until recently, been deeply asleep. She is very bright.

Is she going to rise?

Very soon. She goes to blood her kill!

D’gar jumped out of bed and pulled on his trousers. Herebeth had already shifted from his couch to the front of the ledge. Many of the other dragons were doing the same and quite a few half-dressed riders began appearing. Everyone craned their necks to see what was happening down at the feeding grounds.

Must have been all that sunshine yesterday. Unlike with Prideth, there had been no expectation that Ramoth would rise so soon, although when you thought about it and added on the months she’d spent recovering after her huge jump between it was probably about time. This was the beginning of a Pass, after all. Gold dragons rose far more frequently when the Red Star was close to Pern. He remembered how often it had been commented on at Fort that the increasingly long intervals between the mating flights of the three queen dragons there must be due to the Eighth Pass nearing its end. Absently, he wondered how the jump through time would affect them. By all rights they should increase their breeding frequency again.

This would be an interesting flight. Most of the Benden bronzes had risen to chase Prideth. Even the ones who had lost and who hadn’t managed to catch a green the same day would be unlikely to be interested in mating again so soon.

Which dragons will chase Ramoth? he asked Herebeth.

Mnementh, obviously. Possibly Binth and Piyanth as they did not chase Prideth. Ramoth will not let either of those mate with her.

D’gar suddenly thought of his own Wing. R’feem’s Piroth had caught a green just after Prideth’s flight and V’vil’s Bitath had chased one a few days afterwards. F’drun was safely away from the Weyr, although surely even he wouldn’t dare to let Ryth chase Ramoth. It was a good job Threadfall wasn’t due until late afternoon. However long the flight, it should be well over by then. But some of the Benden Wings might need to let their Wingseconds take over, if the Wingleaders bronzes were too tired, or injured during the flight. He doubted very much if Ramoth would be leading the Queens’ Wing today.

Even as he watched, Mnementh flew past to take up a position from where he could launch himself when Ramoth decided to take wing. Only three other bronzes seemed to be waiting. It was often the way, when it was a senior queen’s flight and the Weyrleader was good at his job and popular within a Weyr. Not too many would want to contest the leadership. It had been the same the last time Loranth rose, almost two Turns ago. T’ron’s Fidranth had won easily, without much competition.

Ramoth had run down a herdbeast and she killed it swiftly, slicing open the belly so that the entrails steamed in the early morning chill. Beside him, Herebeth licked his lips at the sight. It brought a slight smile to D’gar’s face. All those bronzes were intent on mating while his dragon seemed more concerned with his stomach.

For a moment it seemed Ramoth would indulge herself as well, but evidently Lessa had taken control and she reluctantly turned away to merely blood the beast. As she did so, her hide began to shine with the unmistakeable glow of a healthy female dragon about to rise. The first stirrings of dragonlust rippled through the Weyr. If anyone hadn’t already wakened, that would get them going, in more ways than one. Breakfast would be late, and mostly cold fare, he knew. Good job he wasn’t going to be able to eat much, really.

Ramoth imperiously gazed at the bronzes, then took to the air. Two of them opened their wings, thinking she was about to rise, but she had other plans. A second herdbeast died and this time, she went straight for the throat. Her colour brightened still further. It was quite a spectacle.

Most of the weyr ledges were crowded with dragons and weyrfolk, watching as events unfolded. Just across the Bowl, a couple kissed and fondled each other, quite oblivious to anyone who might see them. D’gar recalled Prideth’s flight; H’rek’s first experience of a gold flight. Although he wouldn’t have been here today anyway, D’gar suddenly felt his absence more profoundly.

Two beasts seemed to be sufficient for Ramoth. She bugled a challenge to her suitors, then sprang into the air, bright as the rising sun. The bronzes followed swiftly. Within minutes, they were mere specks in the morning sky, leaving the Weyr unsettled and edgy. A few greens flew down from their weyrs, clearly agitated and wanting to rise themselves, frustrated at having to wait until the queen was caught.

She will fly far, Herebeth commented. She is young and strong and even though she wants Mnementh, she will not let him catch her easily.

D’gar had a sudden thought. Are any of our greens going to rise? If so, they’d need to juggle the shifts to make up for their absence.

Russanth and Hinarth, he replied a few moments later.

Great. Just what we need. At least thinking about the Wing placements would take his mind off other things. If you didn’t have a partner around, it was best to stay occupied.

Some of the blues and browns may chase later as well.

Shells! He’d not even considered that. Perhaps it would be best to have a word with R’feem and come up with contingency plans, just in case. The Fall today was predicted to be a relatively short one: mostly out at sea, then coming in over the coast just south of Valley Hold. Thinking about logistics was as good a way as any to distract from the still niggling dragonlust.

Ask Piroth if I can speak to his rider, please.

Herebeth took a short while to reply. He is busy at the moment, but will see you in the dining hall in a little while.

D’gar was pretty sure exactly what was occupying the Wingleader right now. Ah well, you couldn’t blame him for that, what with only visiting his weyrmate occasionally. In fact, that didn’t seem like a bad idea. At least once he’d taken care of himself, then it would be easier to focus his mind on what needed to be done to prepare for Threadfall.

By the time he’d finished and had Herebeth drop him off, R’feem was already at their usual table. There were a few other folk dotted around the place although it was clear that Ramoth’s decision to rise early had meant most had decided to stay in bed a while longer. He fetched some klah. It was slightly stewed from having been on the hearth all night, but no-one had made a fresh brew yet.

‘It’s going to be a funny sort of day,’ R’feem said. ‘No Wingleaders meeting arranged. No Weyrleader available at present. No absolute certainty who’ll end up as Weyrleader, either.’

That was true. Although everyone was convinced Mnementh would catch Ramoth, things didn’t always go smoothly during mating flights. Plus, even if everything did turn out as expected, no-one would be fit for duty for a few hours at least.

‘Anyway, I’ve started drawing up a few contingency plans as far as our Wing goes. Let’s hope the Benden folk are doing the same. Well, those who aren’t otherwise occupied at the moment.’ He gave a smirk. ‘Two mating flights in as many sevendays. Good job they don’t have three queen dragons here or we’d never get anything done.’

‘What’s the terrain like today?’

‘We’ve been over Greystones way before.’

‘I haven’t. That was the one when I was out of action.’ He took a sip of the unpalatable klah. Oh well, better than no hot drink at all, he thought.

‘Ah, yes.’ R’feem didn’t mention the lake incident, thankfully. ‘We’re a little further north this time. A mix of mountains and valleys, with grazing on the slopes and some agriculture along the valley floors. Hilly area, difficult for ground crews to move around fast, so we’ll have to be thorough. But as Fall starts out at sea, we’ll only have around two and a half hours to worry about, so no need to sort out shifts. Just make sure there are a few replacements lined up for injuries or in case some of the greens or blues get tired.’

‘Depending on how many of ours are fit to fly at all. Herebeth told me we’ve two greens about to rise and it’s anyone’s guess as to who else chases them. There’s bound to be a few Benden greens triggered by this too.’

R’feem sighed. ‘I suppose it could be worse. At least she went off first thing, rather than later in the day. Wonder how long she’ll keep them flying?’

‘If she’s anything like her daughter, a while yet.’

‘Best hope so. The sooner they breed enough dragons, the sooner we can get back to our own Weyr. Think it ever gets to be summer here?’

‘I’m not holding my breath for it.’ The length of the days had increased noticeably, yet it was still colder and wetter than they’d been accustomed to at Fort this time of a Turn. ‘Do you suppose the seasons are different after four hundred Turns?’

‘Nothing would surprise me about this day and age. Although I’ve been back to Fort a few times and it seemed much the same as it always was, weather-wise.’

‘It was when I stopped off there, too.’

‘In that case, it’s simply that Benden has lousy weather.’ R’feem reached into his shoulder bag and pulled out some wax tablets. ‘Nothing we can do about that, so let’s start making a plan for this afternoon.’

They’d been only just started working out the positions when he suddenly received a message from Herebeth. Thread falls!

What? Where?

D’gar’s surprise must have shown on his face, for R’feem asked, ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Herebeth’s saying that Thread’s falling already.’

In the south. Rioth tells me.

‘It’s down south. They knew it was going to, just not where and when.’ Is she all right? Do they need help? Maybe even now Orth was trying to contact Mnementh, unaware that he was otherwise occupied.

Rioth says they would be glad of help. Not enough dragons to cover the area.

Evidently some of the other riders must have received word too, for just then D’nol and S’lel rushed in to the dining hall. D’gar had never seen S’lel move so fast. Both looked slightly panicked. “Thread!’ D’nol shouted. ‘At Southern. We have to do something! Now!’

R’feem got to his feet. ‘Calm down. We already know.’

They also need firestone. Herebeth relayed the message. They do not have enough for a full Fall and they do not know how long this Fall will last.

‘They need firestone,’ D’gar passed on. ‘We should have plenty bagged up for this afternoon.’

‘Steady on,’ R’feem said to the two bronze riders, who seemed about to dash straight out again. ‘No point in everyone getting tied up in this. We still have our own Fall to fly later.’

‘We need to tell the Weyrleader.’ D’nol’s eyes were flicking from side to side as he evidently tried to listen to his dragon as well as focus on what was happening.

‘i doubt he’ll appreciate the interruption right now. In any case, we can cope. Now, how many riders are available from your two Wings? D’gar, find out how many we have right now as well.’

D’gar passed that on to Herebeth, doing some quick calculations as the answers started to come back. ‘At least fifteen.’

‘Good. Take ten of them with a couple of sacks each. You two, get around the same number from your Wings to do the same.’

They nodded, seemingly relieved that someone was taking control of the situation.

‘When you get there,’ R’feem carried on, talking softly to D’gar. ‘Let me know if you need any more reinforcements. Best if I stay here and co-ordinate, the way things are. Don’t need everyone rushing around like headless wherries.’

Herebeth. Tell Rioth we’re on the way. Can they manage with just another thirty riders or will they need more? He suddenly remembered who else was there. Actually, ask Toth that. And Ryth. Their riders were more experienced and should have a better idea. H’rek and Rioth had never been in the thick of a Fall before - let alone one that had come as a surprise - and might be too overwhelmed by the sheer chaos of it all to think clearly.

They are managing right now, but will need reinforcements, Toth says. Ryth confirms.

The next few minutes were a whirl of activity. D’gar had never got into his wherhide gear so fast. Other riders rushed out of whichever weyrs they had been in, some still only half-dressed and pulling clothes on. F’nor arrived looking somewhat disheveled, making D’gar wonder who he’d been with.

Get co-ordinates from Toth. Close as we can get obviously, but not in the middle of Fall.

Piroth already has them. He passes them to me now. Herebeth chewed firestone as fast as he could. All around him, other dragons were doing the same. They’d need a lot more mid-air than was normal, not having had the time to take on as much as they would usually, pre-Fall. The dragons at Southern must have the same problem, D’gar realised, especially if they’d not had much warning. He fastened as many sacks to the straps as would fit, then climbed up, checking the rest of the Wing were ready.

‘Can I join you?’ F’nor called over.

‘Sure. You take the other flank, next to B’lin.’ D’gar glanced across to D’nol and S’lel, who were waiting for their last few riders to get on and fasten their straps. They both waved when they were all ready.

Herebeth. Let’s go. He gave the signal to take off and the three half-Wings ascended rapidly. He waited only until they’d cleared the rim, then gave the signal to go between.

The first thing that struck him as they emerged was the southern heat. They had emerged well outside the Fall zone, although the dragons in the air were clearly visible as they flamed. Thread was advancing at its usual pace and was currently approaching the area occupied by the Weyr buildings. Good job someone had spotted it early when it must still have been falling over the sea.

We will drop off our spare firestone on the beach first, then take the upper level. Tell Tuenth to take the mid level. Valenth’s Wing can co-ordinate firestone supplies for the fighting dragons.

I pass your orders along. My orders, D’gar thought suddenly, realising how easily he’d fallen in to a Wingleader’s mode of thought after so many Turns observing how R’feem did it. Well, no-one else seemed inclined to take control, so he might as well.

As they released their spare sacks, he glanced over towards the fighting Wings to try and get a grip on what patterns they were flying. T’bor’s own Wing were struggling to clear the upper level; not their fault, just that there weren’t enough dragons available to do a proper job. At least they were flying in some semblance of a formation. Below them, a random mish-mash of dragons went for whatever they’d missed, flying this way and that. Sheer luck must have prevented any collisions so far. Mind you, you couldn’t expect much better from such a motley assortment of riders and dragons, some of whom were recovering from injuries and most who had never flown together as a Wing before.

Let’s go. We’ll start from the eastern edge. That way they’d criss cross with T’bor’s dragons, hopefully picking up what he couldn’t. It chilled D’gar to see that there were unprotected people down below, making for the shelter of the Hatching Ground as Thread drew ever closer. They couldn’t afford to let anything through.

As they covered the short distance, he noticed even Kylara was in the air, using her flamethrower very efficiently, flanked by four green dragons, flaming well. A Queens’ Wing in miniature. The next level above them was being covered by two separate ‘Wings’. One lot seemed very organised and he realised that F’drun was leading it. Much as he disliked the man, it was good to see there was someone else who knew what they were doing in charge. Pass on to the Wingleaders’ dragons that Valenth is supplying firestone.

I shall do.

How’s your flame?

For reply, Herebeth released a short burst. Enough for us to start with, but I will need more firestone soon.

They rose to meet Thread and D’gar found himself getting in to the all-too-familiar mindset of Fall, concentrating on checking his area of sky while still scanning ‘his’ Wing to see how they were performing and if they needed to re-organise or re-form.

At least the air is still and we have good visibility. Herebeth seared a large tangle in satisfying fashion, banking to take another few strands that had drifted apart from the main clump.

Tell whoever is in charge of that untidy bunch to try and get them into a vee. Tuenth’s Wing are assisting them on that level and we don’t want anyone getting flamed by accident.

I do not know who is in charge. Herebeth paused. They do not know either.

Tell one of the bronzes then. Shards, but this was a mess. You’d have thought T’bor would have at least thought out some kind of contingency plan. They knew that Thread would fall sooner or later, after all. Maybe Tuenth could take them all under his wing, so to speak?

That might work. Herebeth broke off to attack another squirming bundle of Thread. I will suggest it.

Please do. It was a good thing he had a thoughtful - and tactful - dragon. Some of the Benden bronze riders mightn’t take too well to being told directly what they should do by a mere brown, especially one from another Weyr. He put that from his mind and used a clear space to throw a couple more pieces of firestone into Herebeth’s mouth.

Thread was directly over the Weyr buildings now. All that greenery, that had seemed a pleasant provider of shade just yesterday, now looked like a lethal mistake. It was clear from the abandoned belongings scattered around that the support staff hadn’t had much time to get away. D’gar hoped Bavi would be all right. She didn’t deserve this. No-one should have to be out in the midst of Fall, unless they were experienced ground crew, armed with flamethrowers, or mounted on a dragon.

D’gar wiped his face. As well as the usual char, the unaccustomed heat was making him sweat more than usual. When Herebeth had to blink between to avoid a rapidly descending clump the intense cold brought instant relief. Then they were back out into the bright sunshine, wheeling left to flame again and watch Thread sizzle and blacken.

D’nol’s Wing were ferrying extra firestone up to the Southern Wings. It wasn’t so much that they hadn’t had enough firestone, D’gar realised; more that they had been forced into the air so fast they’d not had time to prepare properly. The extra dragons joining them had probably helped to boost their morale, too.

S’lel seemed to be bringing some kind of order to the mid-level formations. Kylara's Queens' Wing were concentrating their efforts above the people who were still out in the open, protecting them from falling Thread. It looked as if everything was gradually coming together.

Canth tells me we will only need to fight Thread as far as the big river.

Really? What happens then? The idea of letting Thread fall, unopposed went against everything he'd ever learned. Yet how could so few of them protect the whole of the southern continent?

Once it is falling on the other side, it cannot reach the Weyr. Herebeth sounded reluctant too. I do not like to think of Thread falling if we do not fight it.

Me neither. But if that's what they want... Thread would be unable to cross the wide expanse of water, keeping the Weyr and its surroundings safe.

More firestone, please. Herebeth returned to strictly practical matters. I will flame Thread for as long as I am permitted.

The Wing were flying well, cleaning up their level effectively. He watched as M’ta and Zath corkscrewed down to sear a long tangle of Thread, then moved back into position with the minimum of fuss and effort. That was how it should be done. Canth was doing his bit, too, and now that there was a direct comparison to be made, it was clear he was definitely able to flame for longer than brown Ondiath, alongside him in the formation.

They followed the Fall as far as the river, when Orth turned and started to lead his Wing back.

This it it, for us. D’gar watched the deadly rain hissing into the water, then had to look away as it began to fall, unchecked onto the lands beyond. He knew that Herebeth was as unsettled as he was by the sight. All of the dragons must be, as fighting Thread was such an ingrained instinct for them.

He gave the orders for the Wing to fly back. There was plenty of room on the main beach for everyone to land. Some of the support staff were already returning from the Hatching Ground. D’gar hoped fervently none of them had been injured.

‘Well flown.’ F’nor called across.

‘You too.’ Tell the rest of the Wing they did a good job.

I shall. Toth informs me they were very relieved when we all arrived.

D’gar climbed down from his dragon and began his usual post-Fall checks. The heat forced him to take off his jacket. He rubbed his aching shoulder. Once they got back, he’d put some more numbweed on it before this afternoon. Shells! How long had they been away?

We still have plenty of time, Herebeth informed him. I have spoken to Piroth. He tells me also that Mnementh flew Ramoth.

Well, that was a relief. At least they didn’t have to cope with a change of leadership on top of everything else.

‘Can we have a swim while we’re here?’ M’ta asked.

‘I don’t see why not. We’ve plenty of time to get back to Benden and we might as well relax here in the sun as back there.’

‘Thanks.’ He began stripping the sacks and straps from Zath.

Do you want to swim? he asked Herebeth. it was only fair, as he’d had his bath cut short the previous day.

I should enjoy that.

Most of the dragons were doing the same, washing the char and firestone dust from their hides. D’gar sat on one of the unused sacks, watching. Rioth had found her way across to Herebeth already. It was so easy for dragons, he reflected.

‘Hey.’

He turned to see H’rek, looking slightly awkward. ‘Are you all right?’

‘Fine.’

‘Good.’

‘Can I… can we talk?’

‘Sure.’ He patted the sack next to him and H’rek sat down. There was still a distance between them, but this was already turning out better than yesterday.

‘Did you really sleep with N’bras?’

So, he had heard then. ‘Yes. But literally so. We slept. That’s all. There was a party and everyone got drunk. Several people stayed in the weyr that night. Ask M’rell.’

‘He already told me. He said nothing happened.’

‘There you go, then.’

‘I’m sorry about yesterday.’

‘Me too.’ D’gar watched the dragons splashing each other with flapping wings. ‘Herebeth often tells me we make life too complicated.’

‘Rioth says the same.’

‘Then let’s do as our dragons suggest.’ Impulsively, he reached out for H’rek and pulled him into a hug.

H’rek didn’t resist. ‘I thought we were going to die this morning,’ he said softly, next to D’gar’s ear. ‘I didn’t want to die without saying how much I love you.’

‘I love you, too.’ D’gar pulled back, but only so that he could look H’rek in the eyes as he said it. ‘We might argue again. We might not. But how I feel will never change.’ The hug turned into a kiss that said more than words could ever hope to.