Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 31. Gather

Over the next sevenday, he managed to visit H’rek twice more in between fighting the usual Falls over Benden’s area of responsibility. Each time, he noticed the progress underway to make Southern more of an established Weyr rather than a temporary camp. To his northern eyes, it still seemed odd calling anywhere a Weyr if it wasn’t situated within a rocky bowl, but everyone there seemed to have accepted it.

Thanks to F’lar’s Threadfall charts and the records he’d perused to make them, they now had a fair idea of the days when Thread was most likely to fall in the south. After numerous meetings - which R’feem had said required copious amounts of klah simply to stay awake - it had been decided to send a couple of Benden Wings down to standby on the forecast Fall days. Most of the riders seemed to have no problem with this; waiting around in a tropical paradise wasn’t seen as a hardship and as the only land that needed protecting was in the immediate vicinity of the Weyr, the Falls would be short, as D’gar had already discovered.

One of his ideas had borne fruition. F’nor had asked him if he’d agree to do some flying with some of the youngsters still based at Benden, as apparently N’bras had sung his praises as a trainer. So far, they’d only had two sessions. Maybe it was because he was closer to the age of the riders than their previous trainers, or due to his experience in Threadfall, but they really seemed to listen and take his advice to heart.

Herebeth enjoyed it as much as he did. They fly well, even though they are larger than dragons used to be. The bronzes are a bit clumsy though.

Don’t let them hear you saying that.

Well, they are. Still, good to know I can outmanoeuvre them if they decide to chase the same green as I do. He sounded smug.

D’gar’s days flew by. If he wasn’t getting ready for Fall, then he was leading the Wing in morning exercises, visiting H’rek, or planning the next training session. One drizzly evening, R’feem met him in the dining hall. He’d just arrived back from a visit to his weyrmate at Fort and had some news. ‘They’re having the first Gather of this Turn in four days time. Be nice to see what’s still the same and what’s changed.’

‘All of our riders should be able to go, too. That ban on them leaving the Weyr will have finished, won’t it?’ D’gar did some calculations in his head. Yes, they should definitely be allowed to go. He wondered if H’rek would be able to attend as well. As long as it fell on a ‘safe’ day in the south, he didn’t see why not.

‘It’ll only be a single day, due to Fall. Shame, that.’ R’feem poured himself a klah. ‘I’d been looking forward to going to one of those three-day long Gathers they used to have in the Seventh Interval. Some of the retired riders told me about them. Said they used to be quite an event. Folk travelled long distances to get there and camped out. Music and dancing every evening, they said.’

Another reminder of what they’d missed out through coming forward. ‘Any Gather’s better than none,’ D’gar said. ‘I’m looking forward to taking H’rek. His father never used to let the family go, so it’ll all be new to him.’

R’feem smiled. ‘Glad to see you’ve made it up with him, even if you can’t see each other as much as you'd like to right now.’

‘Another two sevendays and he’ll be back here. And they don’t seem to mind me dropping in to visit him as long as I do a bit of work while I’m there.’

‘You and half of the Weyr. You can understand why, though.’

The weather at Benden had improved slightly although it couldn’t compare with the warmth and reliably sunny days of the south. ‘I’ve never seen it rain there, yet, although H’rek said it does. They don’t have snow, though, or even frost. It’s no wonder everything grows so fast.’ A lot of people put the lushness down to the climate; things grew at such a rate that even when they were cut back by Threadfall, they soon recovered. It still seemed odd to D’gar. Here in the north, if Thread burrowed unchecked, it would soon devastate a wide area. That just didn’t seem to happen there.

‘Bring back some more of that purple fruit next time you go. I took some for Hebiri to try and she loved it. She’s been pestering me to take her on a trip to see the place.’

‘You should. Mind you, they might try to poach her once they find out she’s a healer.’

‘They’re good at that.’

D’gar knew he was referring to the training he’d been asked to do. While R’feem had been agreeable - ‘best stay in their good books,’ he’d said - he hadn’t been entirely comfortable with it. ‘If they want a new Weyrlingmaster they should appoint one officially,’ he’d said, ‘Not rely on people filling in here and there. I don’t mind if you don’t, but you’ve got plenty on your plate as it is.’

‘It’s fine. I enjoy it. Besides, I’m young enough to remember how terrifying it was to join a Wing.’

‘I wasn’t that bad, was I?’

‘No. But I was convinced that if I made a single mistake, you’d throw me out.’ He and S’brin hadn’t exactly had the best reputation in the Weyr. Neither of them would have been a Wingleader’s first choice.

R’feem chuckled. ’We all make mistakes. If they don't kill you, you learn from them. Anyway, you and Herebeth were a lot better than some I’d had. Still are, for that matter.’

‘I appreciate it, you know. That you trusted me. Us.’

‘I’ve never been one to have my mind made up for me. You should know that by now.’

Thread fell the following morning; a four hour stretch over Bitra and part of Lemos. They’d been assigned to the upper levels along with S’lel’s Wing. The weather was a mix of sunshine and squally showers, some of which were heavy enough to drown Thread. Everyone came back to the Weyr soaked to the skin. The lighter dragons were exhausted from battling against the fierce winds and although everyone in R’feem’s Wing came out of it unscathed, that was more through luck than anything else. W’lir’s Wing lost a pair and there were numerous scores with varying degrees of severity.

I would like to swim in the sea, Herebeth said. My wing muscles ache. Can we go and see Rioth in the south?

I don’t see why not. The thought of floating in the warm ocean was enticing. Plus, he’d be able to tell H’rek about the Gather, hopefully before he heard about it from any other source. Pausing only to put on dry clothing, they set off and came out of between into a heavy shower. By the time they landed, he was almost as wet as he’d been at the end of Fall. The only consolation was that it was much warmer than the rain that had lashed down above Bitra.

Herebeth didn’t mind the rain; he was about to immerse himself in the sea anyway. D’gar took off the straps and ran for the Weyrhall, getting drenched further as the trees dripped on him all the way along the path. There were a lot of people sheltering under its newly tiled roof, clustered in groups around the tables as water cascaded down all around. It wasn’t too dissimilar to being under the waterfall, D’gar thought.

Having spotted H’rek, seated with some of his clutchmates, he made his way across.

‘I thought you had Threadfall today?’

‘We did. Just finished. Herebeth wanted a swim and I quite fancied relaxing in the sun as well.’ He cast his eyes skywards. ‘I thought the weather would be better here than at Benden. I was wrong.’

‘Now you know why it’s so lush here. We get these downpours every couple of days.’ G’kal, green Zeylenth’s rider leaned back in his chair, feet on the table.

‘How long do they usually last?’

‘Couple of hours, maybe.’ H’rek supplied. ‘This one’s been going on since lunch, so it’ll definitely blow over by evening. Can you stay until then?’

‘Might as well. At least it’s warm here and there’s good company.’ He glanced around the room. ‘Is the whole Weyr personnel crammed under this roof?’

‘Mostly,’ H’rek said. ‘Some are over in the Hatching Grounds.’

‘Kylara and her latest lover among them,’ Av’rar said.

‘And you can probably guess who that is,’ H’rek added. ‘F’drun.’

‘How’s he been?’ F’drun still worried him. He’d been subdued after the failed mating flight and while Ryth was injured, but now he had the support of the Weyrwoman, he’d undoubtedly be back to his arrogant self again.

‘He’s led his own Wing the last couple of Falls we’ve had. He’s also been showing off to some of the younger bronze riders.’

‘Our clutchmates among them,’ G’kal said. ‘Mind you, doesn’t take much to impress that lot.’

‘I thought they weren’t too fond of us old timers.’

H’rek shrugged. ‘That’s L’cal mostly. But he’s more worried about the others learning something new and him missing out on it, so he tags along as well.’

‘And how does T’bor feel about all that?’

‘He’s never been able to stop Kylara from doing what she wants and if she’s taken F’drun under her wing, it makes him more-or-less untouchable.’

That was what concerned him most. ‘Well, watch yourself around him. You know what he’s like.’ He addressed the last comment to H’rek. ‘Still, I didn’t come here to talk about F’drun. I’ve brought some good news. There’s going to be a Gather at Fort soon. I’m going along and I was hoping you’d like to as well.’

‘What, all of us?’ Av’rar asked.

‘Well, I was actually inviting H’rek, but I suppose if the rest of you want to tag along I can’t stop you. If you can get the day off, that is.’

‘I’ve been to a few of those,’ G’kal said. ‘They’re brilliant. Mind you, that was before the Pass started, so I don’t expect there’ll be so many traders or entertainers now travelling’s not so easy.’

‘I’ve never been to a proper Gather,’ H’rek said. ‘So I wouldn’t know the difference.’

‘Really? Didn’t your parents ever take you?’ G’kal sounded surprised.

‘My, er… father didn’t believe in taking time off from work. And as Gathers are always held during the summer months, when we were busy on the farm, there was no chance we’d get to go.’

‘Fort Gathers are the best,’ G’kal said. ‘With the Harper Hall so close, you get the really good musicians playing. Hey, I wonder if the Masterharper’s written a ballad to commemorate Lessa’s epic ride yet?’

‘Might be a bit soon,’ D’gar said. The Masterharper he remembered had never been particularly quick to compose anything new. Mind you, that might be different in this day and age, too..

‘Oh, Robinton’s well in with F’lar and Lessa. If they’re going - and I’ll bet they will be - he’ll want to put on something special.’

G’kal seemed very well informed, D’gar thought. Later, when the rain had eased off and they went back to H’rek’s wallow, H’rek told him that G’kal had been Searched from the Harper Hall. ‘He’s got a lovely singing voice and he can play most instruments.’

‘Let’s hope you can get the day off for the Gather. It’s not on one of the possible Threadfall days, is it?’

‘Don’t think so. I’ll need to check, but so long as it’s not, there shouldn’t be a problem leaving the Weyr. I’ll bet Kylara will want to go. Her chance to parade around in her best finery. Not to mention flying in on a gold dragon.’ His expression showed how he felt about that.

‘Except there’ll be a good few of those this time. She’s not so unique anymore.’

H’rek’s face lit up.. ‘I never thought of that. Ha! That’ll annoy her.’

D’gar wondered if anyone - apart from F’drun and T’bor - actually liked Kylara. Well, she only had herself to blame for that.

He got back to Benden fairly late in the evening. It was raining softly, grey cloud obscuring the rim of the Bowl. Although the sun wasn’t visible, the clouds were tinged with pink as it set, making the Weyr walls glow in the fading light. One more Threadfall before the Gather, he thought. Let’s hope nothing happens to either of us before then.

You are gloomy tonight, Herebeth commented. Why are you gloomy? You have been with H’rek. You were happy earlier.

I worry about looking forward to things. It felt a little bit like the anticipation towards the end of the Pass when everyone was counting down to the last Threadfall and a return to safe, normal life. And look how badly that had turned out.

I do not understand.

How to explain it to a dragon? Well, imagine that you’re looking forward to catching a couple of fat, juicy wherries?

Yes?

And then you find out that all the wherries have gone from the place you usually hunt them. You’d be disappointed, wouldn’t you?

I would also be hungry. Herebeth gave the mental draconic equivalent of a shrug. But I could eat a herd beast instead.

What if they’d gone as well?

I would be unhappy. And still hungry.

Well, that’s about it.

If you say so. He still didn’t sound totally convinced. But there is no point worrying about things that might not happen. The herd beasts have not gone and neither have the wherries.

D’gar gave up trying to explain and called down the service shaft for some klah.

As it happened, the next Threadfall went as smoothly as they ever did. Decent weather for once, not too much of it over cultivated land and only one minor scoring; Lanralth just catching a wingtip due to cutting a manoeuvre too fine.

The Gather morning dawned fine, even over Benden. It was bound to be better still at Fort. After a quick breakfast, he went to get ready. Many of the Benden riders and those from the five Weyrs were intending to go. This was the first big Gather of the summer season, after all.

He’d agreed to meet H’rek and some of his clutchmates in the south. There was no need to rush; Benden time was well ahead of Fort so they’d have a full day to enjoy themselves.

The sky above Southern Weyr was cloudless. Dragons sunned themselves on the beach. The Weyrhall was deserted this morning; everyone must be getting ready for a day out.

Rioth is at her weyr, Herebeth informed him. I will wait here in the sun.

Good. He’d been hoping Herebeth wouldn’t want to immerse himself in the sea yet again, as he didn’t fancy getting on board a wet dragon in his best clothes. We shouldn’t be long, then you can catch up on all the dragon gossip at Fort.

Rioth was curled in her wallow while H’rek scrabbled around inside his small shelter, still shirtless.

‘Nice view,’ D’gar said, as he strolled up.

H’rek looked round. ’I thought my green shirt was in here but I can’t find it.’ He’d thrown everything out of the storage box and was picking his way through the garments.

‘The only green item around here looks to be Rioth. Maybe it’s back at Benden Weyr. You didn’t bring everything, after all.’

H’rek looked up, wrinkling his eyes. ‘You might be right. Shells!’

D’gar picked up a pale blue shirt and shook some sand out of it. ‘This one’s fine. Or go as you are. You’ll get some admiring glances.’

‘Ha, ha.’ He grabbed the blue shirt and pulled it over his head. ‘This’ll have to do. Don’t want to be late.’

‘We won’t be. It’s still early morning at Fort. And I’m sure they’ll keep a few bubbly pies to one side for dragonriders.’

‘I hope so. G’kal’s been telling us all about them. Right, I’m ready to go.’

‘Don’t forget your shoulder knots. You want everyone to know who you are.’ D’gar patted his own. H’rek picked his knots up and put them on hastily. ’I told the others we’d meet them on the beach. Rioth can round them up. How do I look?’

‘As delicious as any pie.’ D’gar pulled him close for a kiss. ‘Better go before I get distracted and we really do end up late.’

Five others from Prideth’s clutch were already waiting by the time they got there. Both dragons and riders seemed excited. Apart from G’kal, none had been to Fort before, so he made sure that Herebeth gave their dragons a good visual before they went between.

The Gather was unmistakeable; a field full of multi-coloured stalls situated just a few dragon lengths from the Hold itself. Bright hides stood out on the heights where all the dragons had chosen to congregate once they’d dropped off riders and passengers. One or two of those already settled bugled to greet the new arrivals.

As they descended, D’gar had a sudden disjointed feeling. He’d last been to a Gather at Fort less than a Turn ago by his own reckoning, together with S’brin. Now he was here again, four hundred Turns on. The Hold and its immediate surroundings hadn’t changed very much in appearance, but all of the Hall and Hold personnel would be unknown to him and he to them. By the time they landed, he’d recovered a little, although he still wondered if this had been such a good idea. It had already stirred up memories he’d rather leave undisturbed.

‘Are you all right?’ H’rek asked as he dismounted. ‘You look like you’re worrying about something.’

‘No. Just thinking, that’s all.’

They attached anything they didn’t need to the straps. One of the advantages of attending a Gather on a dragon was that you never needed to worry about things being stolen. H’rek’s clutchmates went off with G’kal, who wanted to look up some friends from the Harper Hall. D’gar and H’rek strolled towards the stalls. The smells of food drifted toward them; the mouth-watering aroma of roasting meat, a sweet whiff of spices and freshly brewed klah. Music was playing somewhere in the distance and a light breeze made the Gather banners flutter against the sky.

‘This is wonderful,’ H’rek said. ‘There are so many different things to see. What shall we do first?’

‘I could use a cold drink.’ Having got used to the fruit concoctions in Southern, D’gar fancied a freshly prepared juice, so he went over to one of the nearby stalls. The woman behind the counter smiled. ‘What can I get you, sir?’

He paused for a while, mulling over the different flavours. ‘H’rek. Are you having one as well?’

‘I’ll go for the marshberry,’ he called. He’d moved on to peruse belts at an adjacent stall.

‘Fine. One marshberry and one citrus, please.’

‘That’ll be a sixteenth, please.’

‘Er, what?’ D’gar had never had to pay for any food and drink at a Gather before. He was wearing his shoulder knots, so it must be obvious he was a dragonrider. Although, maybe she hadn’t recognised the Fort colours seeing as the Weyr had been empty until fairly recently. ‘I’m from Fort Weyr,’ he added, just in case.

H’rek strolled over, presumably noticing his confusion. ‘What’s up? Left your marks in your riding jacket?’ He dug into his pocket and paid the stall holder. ‘He’s so forgetful. You’d think he was the green rider, not me.’

She laughed and handed over the drinks. ‘You’re not the first today to try that one. Enjoy yourselves.’

As soon as they were out of earshot, D’gar stopped H’rek. ‘You shouldn’t have done that.’

‘Done what?’

‘Paid her.’

H’rek looked surprised. ’Why ever not? She has to make a living.’

‘But we’re dragonriders.’

H’rek sighed. ‘It’s not like that any more. We’ve been told that if something’s offered freely, then we’re allowed to accept it, but otherwise we have to pay just like anyone else.’

Another jarring change. ‘That’s going to come as a shock to a lot of riders. Refreshments were always free at Gathers and if you admired a small item - a belt, for example - they’d usually gift it. I’ve not actually brought many marks with me. I didn’t think to.’

‘Don’t worry about it. You can pay me back later.’

D’gar sipped his drink. It was nowhere near as tasty as the ones they made at Southern. He wondered how some of the other riders might react to being asked to pay for things that had previously been free. They carried on walking, stopping for a while to watch a juggler and a group of acrobats, before returning to the main avenue of stalls. Around half way down, D’gar spotted a couple of his wingmates at a stall displaying rugs of varying size and colours. G’reden and V’chal looked to be arguing with the vendor, a stout man with a florid complexion.

‘I’d best see what’s happening here,’ he told H’rek. They too, might be expecting favours which didn’t exist in this day and age. ‘Hey there,’ he greeted them. ‘What’s up?’

The rug seller looked at him. ‘Do you know these two?’ he asked, rather gruffly.

‘They’re in my Wing, at Benden Weyr.’

‘You ain’t Benden riders though.’ He glanced at their shoulder knots, then at H’rek. ‘He is.’

‘That’s right,’ H’rek confirmed.

At least someone had bothered to learn the colours. ‘We’re from Fort,’ D’gar explained. ‘Seconded to Benden for the foreseeable future.’

‘Does it matter where we’re from?’ V’chal broke in. He pointed at the man. ‘He said my marks are fakes. They’re not. They’re good Smithcraft marks. Look.’ He opened his hand, showing them to D’gar.

He picked one up and examined it closely. ‘Looks fine to me.’

The stall holder shook his head. ‘I know genuine when I sees them.’

H’rek leaned in and brought out one of his own marks for comparison, holding them side by side. There were some subtle differences in the design. ‘I reckon I know what the problem is. These are old, aren’t they? You brought them with you?’

‘Well, of course I did. I wasn’t going to leave good marks behind, was I?’

The stall holder peered at H’rek’s marks. ‘These ones look all right.’

D’gar suddenly understood the problem. ‘They’re all genuine. But these ones…’ he pointed at V’chal’s marks, ‘are four hundred Turns older. You’ll have heard the story of how Weyrwoman Lessa of Benden brought us all forward?’

The stall holder nodded. ‘Harpers have been telling about it. So what you’re saying is that these here marks are from the past, is that right?’

D’gar nodded agreement. ‘You’ve got it. And obviously the design’s changed a bit in all that time. But if you don’t trust my word on that, we can always get a Smithcrafter to verify them. There’s bound to be some of them here today.’

‘You’ll vouch for these two?’

‘I’ve known them for Turns. They’re not out to cheat you.’

‘Well, I didn’t think dragonriders would…’ he sounded calmer now.

‘That’s not what you said earlier.’ G’reden was obviously still upset by the accusation.

D’gar quietened him down. ‘It’s just a misunderstanding, lads. Things have changed since we were last at a Gather. H’rek had to stop me getting into a similar mess.’ He turned back to the stall holder. ‘Now, obviously I can’t make you accept these, but if you’ll agree not to sell whatever it was these two were after, we can go off to get these marks checked and come back later.’

‘Is there a problem here?’ A pleasant and somehow familiar female voice asked.

D’gar turned to find himself face to face with Lessa herself.

The stall holder abruptly changed his tune. ‘Not at all. Just a little misunderstanding.’

‘I think we’ve managed to sort it out, Weyrwoman,’ D’gar said. Over her shoulder, he saw the Weyrleader approaching too. Great. Not how he’d hoped to meet either of them today.

‘Well, I’m glad to hear it. What was the issue, exactly?’

‘Well, briefly, the stall holder thought these riders were trying to pass off counterfeit marks. We all figured out it’s just that they’re four hundred Turns old, so they look slightly different from modern day ones.’ D’gar showed the specimens to Lessa.

‘Well, so they do,’ she said. ‘F’lar, would you have a look at these.’ She handed them over.

‘D’gar suggested we could get them verified by a Smithcrafter,’ H’rek put in.

‘Sensible idea,’ F’lar said. ‘There shouldn’t be any problem, then.’ He turned to the stall holder. ‘I’m happy to offer assurances against any purchases these riders care to make.’

The stall holder smiled broadly. ‘In that case I’ll gladly sell them the rug they wanted.’

‘Thank you, sir,’ D’gar said. ‘It’s much appreciated. You know, there might be a few more incidents like this today. It’s the first Gather since we came forward for a lot of riders and some of them could get a bit… heated if their marks aren’t accepted.’ He didn’t mention how they might feel about being asked to pay at all.

‘Hmm. That’s a good point.’ F’lar handed him the marks back. ‘We’re meeting Mardra and T’ron shortly. I’ll be sure to warn him.’

As they strolled off, V’chal waited until the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman were out of earshot, then commented, ‘You seem to have got well in with the Benden leadership.’

D’gar shrugged. ‘I’ve hardly seen them really.’ He’d not even spoken to Lessa before today and his only previous contact with F’lar was when he’d had to report after the incident in the baths.

‘They know you, though. And you’re pally with F’nor, which counts for a lot.’

‘Just how it turned out. I can thank F’drun for that, really.’

G’reden looked puzzled. ‘How’s that?’

‘Well, if he’d not tried to drown me…’

‘Ah.’

‘Talking of old friends, guess who I met earlier?’ V’chal smirked.

‘Half of Fort Weyr must be here, so it could be anyone.’

‘Your favourite brown rider, H’sal. He asked after you.’

‘I’ll bet he did. Still as charming as ever, is he?’

‘Well, he looked as if he’d bothered to have a wash for the Gather, at least. You should go and say hello.’

‘It’ll be a warm day between first.’

G’reden was rolling up the rug. ‘Thanks anyway. I owe you one for this.’

‘Yeah. See you later.’ V’chal and G’reden went off together.

‘I’m intrigued,’ H’rek said, as they continued walking. ‘Who’s this old friend of yours and why haven’t I heard about him before?’

D’gar groaned. ‘Long story.’

‘Shall we find somewhere to sit, then and you can tell me.’

It wasn’t something he was particularly proud of. In fact, he’d have been glad for the episode to have been forgotten, except that H’sal, among other unsavoury tendencies, also gossiped a lot. They walked a little way until they found a bench next to a low wall. It was pleasant there, in the sun. Unlike the story.

‘Back when we were still weyrlings, there were a few older riders who liked to send their dragons up after inexperienced greens. Easy to catch, you see. Anyway, H’sal was one of them; still is, as far as I know, except there aren’t so many weyrlings these days.’

‘So he likes young riders?’

‘That’s about it. Apart from the fact that he’s pretty disgusting, there were a couple of incidents when he hurt his partners during a flight.’

H’rek winced. ‘Intentionally?’

‘Who can say? But everyone knows flights can be violent, both for dragons and riders, so it’s not unheard of. Plus, no-one ever gets into trouble for it.’

‘Guess I’ve been lucky so far.’ H’rek looked slightly concerned at the mention.

D’gar knew he must be thinking about Rioth’s next mating flight. ’Don’t worry about it. We’ve made plans for the next time Rioth rises, haven’t we?’ He squeezed H’rek’s hand for reassurance. ‘You want me to carry on?’

He looked uncertain. ‘Should I be hearing the rest of this?’

‘You asked about it. And knowing the way your mind works, if I don’t tell you then you’ll imagine far worse. It’s not that bad, anyway.’

‘All right.’

‘Well, S’brin’s Zemianth was due to rise for the first time. Herebeth wasn’t interested in mating yet, so I knew I was out of it anyway. Generally, the way things worked was that for the first couple of times, you could ask for a restricted flight. That meant only other youngsters were allowed to send their dragons after yours, or someone older if they were invited.’

H’rek made a wry face. ‘We didn’t have anything like that. It was a free-for-all in the south.’

‘I know. You told me all about it the first time we met. Anyway, S’brin decided not to go for a restricted flight, even though he had the right to.’

‘Why not?’

‘Pride, mostly. Some folk saw it as a sign of immaturity. Plus, we’d been in a relationship for a couple of Turns, so it wasn’t like he’d never had sex before. “He’s not exactly a blushing Holdbred lass, is he?” was how the Weyrlingmaster put it. Anyway, I was worried he’d get hurt, but I couldn’t make him see that. S’brin could be stubborn when he made his mind up. So as he wouldn’t do anything about it, I did.’ He sighed. ‘It was stupid, looking back, but I went to see H’sal in his weyr, thinking I could appeal to his better nature. Only he didn’t have one.’

‘So, did his dragon catch Zemianth, then?’

D’gar shook his head. ‘He didn’t send Nalth up after her. I persuaded him not to, in the end.’

‘Persuaded him? How?’

‘Gave him what he wanted.’

‘You paid him off?’ H’rek asked.

‘In a way. I had sex with him.’

H’rek looked horrified, reminding D’gar once again that he wasn’t Weyrbred. He felt obliged to reassure him. ‘It was no worse than what happens on any green flight. At least I was in my right mind all the time.’

‘That’s so wrong.’

‘It wasn’t the best time I’ve ever had, no. He wouldn’t have been my choice of partner. But it kept S’brin safe, so it wasn’t a total failure.’

H’rek was quiet for a while, then finally he asked, ’Did S’brin ever find out?’

‘Eventually. H’sal’s a gossip. He didn’t say anything right away, but when I wouldn’t do it again, he started telling folk. S’brin heard and asked me if it was true. When I told him it was and why I’d done it, he went mad. He wanted to go and punch H’sal, only a couple of us managed to calm him down.’ He remembered it as clearly as if it had happened yesterday. ‘Not a good day, that one.’

‘So why does this H’sal want to see you?’

‘Who knows? Probably to see if I’m still as much of a mess as I was just after S’brin died. He never really liked me much when I didn’t succumb to his charms.’

‘He sounds like a nasty piece of work.’

D’gar shrugged. ‘He’s not malicious, like F’drun. Just annoyed when he doesn’t get what he wants.’ Talking about the past, this close to Fort Hold and the Weyr, brought it all back again. It reminded him of how he’d felt when they were descending to land; too many connections to a past that was irretrievable.

H’rek must have noticed. ‘Don’t let it upset you. You can’t change what’s happened and you were only trying to help S’brin.’

‘It’s not that…’ he struggled for words to try and explain. ‘Coming back here has brought the past too close. I know that four hundred Turns have passed, but my life here feels like yesterday. Benden’s got no connections for me, so I can cope better there. Does that make sense?’

‘I think so.’

‘And I wanted to show you how much fun a Gather is, but I didn’t even think about having to pay for things in this day and age. I feel like an idiot.’

H’rek put an arm around him. ‘It’s not your fault. You’ve only been here a few months. I doubt I’d adapt as well if I suddenly landed up in the distant future. Anyway, you handled that situation really well with G’reden and that stall holder.’

‘I suppose so.’

‘Try not to worry about things so much.’

He sounded like Herebeth now. D’gar smiled at that comparison. ‘You’re right.’ There was no point in letting it overshadow the day. ‘Let’s go and get some of those bubbly pies.’