Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 34. Meetings and Confrontations

‘Might I just congratulate the Weyrwoman on her excellent advice at the start of Fall today.’ R’gul raised his cup of klah and made a slight bow towards Lessa, who was sitting in one of the chairs around the council table. ‘If you’d not come up with such clever solution, we might have let a fair amount of Thread get through.’

She gave a slight smile. ‘You’d be welcome, R’gul, except it wasn’t my idea. I simply passed the message on, thanks to my ability to speak to all dragons.’

He looked confused. ‘Then whose was it?’

Lessa turned her gaze on D’gar and broadened her smile. He sensed it wasn’t just due to gratitude for coming up with a solution but also because it enabled her to correct R’gul in front of the other Wingleaders. ‘Why, D’gar's, of course.’

R’gul’s face fell. Beside him, W’lir grinned. D’gar felt all eyes on him and tried not to blush. ‘I’d seen Fall like that before, so I knew what worked best. I expect W’lir figured it out, too.’

W’lir nodded. ‘That sort of Fall isn’t particularly frequent, but I’ve had a couple like that, too. By the time I gave orders for my Wing to re-form, I noticed you’d already started to do the same.’

‘Quick thinking, D’gar,’ F’lar said. ‘Well done. I’ve noted a few references to irregular Fall patterns in the records but reading about it doesn’t always give the full picture. If only we knew why every Fall isn’t exactly the same, it would help a lot in planning tactics.’

‘Sadly, no-one knows the exact reasons. I’ve seen some theories in our archives at Fort that it might be connected with conditions high up in the atmosphere or even something to do with our proximity to the moons.’

‘The moons!’ R’gul had recovered his composure. ‘How could they possibly affect Thread?’

‘Well, they affect the oceans, so why not?’ D’gar stated. ‘Although, I agree, it’s hard to prove one way or another. A dragon can’t fly that high.’ He turned to F’lar. ‘Maybe some of the other Weyrleaders might have a better idea. I’m no expert, just quoting what I’ve read.’

‘I’ll be sure to ask them next time we meet. Sharing information is never a bad thing. Anyway, I think what we need to take from today is the importance of being able to react quickly to changing conditions. Has anyone any suggestions as to any other ways we could have ridden this Fall?’

‘Here we go,’ W’lir hissed in D’gar’s right ear. ‘Now for the boring part.’

Oddly, he didn’t find the post-Fall meeting as tedious as he’d been led to believe. Maybe there really were lessons to be learned from each Fall? Perhaps because Benden was new to the game they didn’t just take it for granted that it was always necessary to do things the same old way. By the time they finished, he was buzzing with a mixture of too much klah and fresh ideas.

On the way down the steps - which he was very careful negotiating, bearing in mind what had happened to R’feem - he noticed Lessa slumped on a seat beside the map of Pern, as if she had only managed to walk that far before feeling the need to rest.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ He thought he should ask. Seeing her like that reminded him uncomfortably of Valli’s slow decline. Admittedly the Fort weyrwoman had been much older, but her final illness had started with just a few small symptoms.

She gave him a quick look. ‘Nothing that time won’t cure.’

‘Well, if I can do anything to help…’

‘I’m fine, honestly.’ She paused for a moment before looking at him shrewdly. ‘Do you think anyone else has noticed?’

He shrugged. ‘I noticed the Weyrleader had to help you onto Ramoth this morning. You don’t look well and everyone in a Weyr is concerned with the health of their Weyrwoman, so yes, I expect they will have done.’

‘Hmm. I was wondering how long it’d take. Oh, well. They’ll have to be told sooner or later, so we might as well get it over with.’

Now he was getting really worried. Had the huge jump between to fetch the Weyrs caused adverse affects on her health?

His concern must have shown on his face, for she gave a small smile, then said, ‘Can you keep a secret, just for a short while, until we announce it officially.’

He nodded. ‘Of course.’

‘I’m pregnant.’

‘That’s wonderful news. Congratulations.’ It was a relief to hear she wasn’t seriously ill. Now the comment about time curing the condition made sense.

‘Thanks. Manora tells me that once I’m past the early stages I should start to feel better, but right now everything makes me tired and the thought of food…’ she grimaced. ‘I wondered if I was going to see my breakfast again this morning.’

‘I’m like that before every Fall,’ he said, just to reassure her. ‘Porridge helps.’

‘I’ll try that. Now I think I’ll go and have a lie down while Ramoth’s having a nap. She keeps telling me she doesn’t know what I’m fussing about. After all, I’m only having one - or at the most two - babies and she’s going to lay a lot more eggs than that.’

‘Dragons, huh?’ He left the weyr, being sure not to disturb Ramoth on his way past.

Herebeth. Can you let the rest of the Wing know we’re meeting shortly in the dining hall. He’d keep it brief, then give them the rest of the afternoon off. And after that, we’re heading south.

Good. I can catch more fish. And eat them.

Eventually, he was able to get away, excited that at last he was going to be able to tell H’rek his news. Even from high in the air, it was clear that Southern was gradually becoming far more permanent, even if it wasn’t what would traditionally be regarded as a Weyr. Due to the time difference, it was late afternoon. A few dragons and their riders were in the sea. Others were working on another new building that had been mere foundations on his last visit. It was that time of day when people were beginning to resume tasks that had been abandoned during the hottest part of the day, he realised.

Ask Rioth where we can find her.

She is in the sea. He paused. H’rek is not with her.

Shouldn’t be too difficult to find him.

Herebeth glided down in lazy circles, before landing on the soft sand. He looked wistfully toward the ocean. I would like to swim now.

You go ahead. He removed the straps and dumped them on the sand. They’d need a good clean after today’s Fall anyway. Herebeth gave himself a shake then flew low and lazily toward the shore, sending spray in all directions as he plunged into the water. D’gar smiled. It was good to see his dragon enjoying himself. He’d flown well today.

He made his was toward the Weyrhall, unfastening his wherhide jacket as he walked. Benden was too cold; this place was too hot, he thought. Fort’s weather was a happy medium. Apart from a month or so in the winter, it was usually tolerable and the summers were generally fine without this energy-sapping humidity. Pity you couldn’t just combine the best aspects of them all in one place.

On his way, he spotted Bavi, pegging out freshly washed sheets on a line. ‘Hey, there,’ he called.

She turned. ‘Oh, you again.’

‘That’s a nice way to greet me.’ They knew each other well enough now to tease. ‘Seen H’rek?’

‘Think he’s on firestone duties. There’s supposed to be another Fall tomorrow.’ She looked uneasily up at the sky. ‘Last one for me here, thankfully.’

She’d opted to return to Benden, he knew. Not that he blamed her for that. He’d not fancy being on the ground during Fall, either.

‘I used to like it here,’ she went on. ‘Apart from her, of course.’

D’gar knew exactly who she meant. ‘Kylara being troublesome again, is she?’

She grimaced. ‘You know how difficult some women get when they’re expecting? Well, whenever Prideth’s in clutch, she’s like that. Only this time, with him around, she’s twice as bad. You can guess who I’m talking about, can’t you?’

He could, all too easily. ‘F’drun?’ M’rell had said as much.

‘Nasty piece of work, isn’t he? Thinks he can get away with anything now he’s back in her good books. I had to slap one of those young riders the other day when he couldn’t keep his hands to himself and that’s all down to his bad influence.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?’

‘I don’t reckon so. Anyway, it’s only a few more days. I just keep out of their way, much as I can.’

‘Well, it’ll be good to have you back at Benden.’

‘Not as good as getting your weyrmate back, eh?’ she laughed. ‘See you later.’

‘Sure.’ There was no point in calling Herebeth out of the sea so he began the long trek over to the firestone dump. It would have been a pleasant walk apart from the cloying heat and the way the sand dragged at his feet. Sitting with a cool drink, or having a swim would be a far more relaxing way to spend the time, especially after a four hour Fall. It was only the prospect of seeing H’rek again that spurred him on. Still, the gentle sound of the waves breaking was soothing and put him into a calm mood, until he got within sight of the firestone dump.

Even from a distance, it was clear that something was up. Several of the youngsters - H’rek included - were standing off against another group. He recognised L’cal and M’shol, plus another few he knew to be bronze riders from Prideth’s clutch.

As he came closer, the raised voices were clear. ‘Get those sharding sacks filled now,’ L’cal ordered.

‘Not unless you lot do your share as well.’ That was Av’rar.

H’rek joined in to back him up. ’Why should some of us do all of the work?’

‘Because I say so.’

He sounded arrogant, D’gar thought. ‘What’s going on?’ he asked, in a perfectly reasonable tone.

Everyone swivelled to face him. They’d been so engaged in their confrontation, no-one had noticed his approach. ‘Nothing to do with you,’ L’cal said dismissively.

H’rek glanced across to him briefly. D’gar sensed he was glad of the support. ‘You’re probably right there,’ he agreed. L’cal looked slightly surprised. He must have been expecting that D’gar would immediately back up H’rek, whatever the argument. ‘How about I just sit here and listen while you get on with whatever it was you were… discussing.’

‘How about you clear off and leave this to us,’ said one of the other bronze riders. He was a heavily-built lad, used no doubt to throwing his considerable weight around.

D’gar noted how their attitude had changed since the last time he was here. Then, they’d assumed he’d been sent to supervise and accepted it. Now they were openly confrontational. He bit back his anger and smiled pleasantly. ‘I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that. Please, continue.’ He sat on the nearest rock and folded his arms.

‘They want us to do all the work while they sit around,’ Av’rar told him. ‘They think they’re too good to shovel firestone.’

D’gar nodded. He’d gathered that from what he’d heard as he arrived. ‘Surely it’s all of your jobs to fill up the sacks.’ He chose his next words carefully, intending to ruffle some feathers. ‘That’s what weyrlings do, after all.’

‘We’re not weyrlings.’

He’d heard the same refrain often enough from H’rek. ‘Oh, really? When did you get asked to join a Wing, then?’ He addressed M’shol, who had spoken. ‘If you ride young dragons and you aren’t in a fighting Wing, then you’re weyrlings.’

‘We’ve fought Thread a few times now,’ L’cal protested.

‘Maybe. But you’ve not been formally asked to join a Wing and you won’t be until there are enough youngsters coming up to replace you.’ It was how a Weyr - any Weyr - worked. D’gar’s own clutch had been held back because the next batch of weyrlings were almost a Turn behind. ‘Still, that’s not what this argument’s about, is it? It’s about who should or shouldn’t be shovelling firestone. Isn’t that right?’

There were a few nods and noises of agreement. ‘So, if I’ve got it right, you all…’ he gestured toward the group on his right, ‘think you shouldn’t have to do it? Might I ask why?’

‘We’re bronzes. We outrank them.’

‘Yet I’m assuming you were all sent to perform this task?’

More nods, although that was from the other group. The bronzes just stood there. L’cal still looked defiant, but the others seemed a bit less confident now.

‘So maybe I should just take this to the Weyrleader. I’m sure he’ll be fascinated to hear what you have to say.’

‘He’ll do whatever Kylara tells him,’ M’shol said. There were a few sniggers.

D’gar gave them all a cold look. ‘He’s still your Weyrleader and you should show him some respect. You might also want to consider that you’ll be returning to Benden in a few days and you wouldn’t get away with this kind of behaviour there.’ He paused to let that sink in, noticing that even L’cal looked uncomfortable at the idea.

‘Come on, let’s just get it done,’ G’kal said, picking up a shovel. ‘They only asked for a hundred sacks and we must have done nearly fifty already.’

‘I’m not filling any more unless they do as well.’ Av’rar said, holding his ground.

’I suggest you all get on with it,’ D’gar said quietly but firmly, much as R’feem did. He’d always admired that tactic and now he had a chance to put it into action.

‘And what are you going to do?’ L’cal asked.

‘Relax and enjoy the sunshine. I’ve fought a four hour Fall earlier today.’ He leaned back against the rock. It wasn’t very comfortable to tell the truth, but he wasn’t going to let them know that.

There was some grousing and muttering, but gradually they all picked up the shovels and started filling sacks. H’rek caught his eye and he winked, so that he’d know this was - mostly - for show. While they worked, he considered what might have caused the situation. He had a bad feeling F’drun might be behind it. M’rell - and those other riders - had said some of the young bronzes had been spending time with him. Maybe his ways were rubbing off on them? And if Kylara and F’drun were together, as it seemed, then he’d be able to get away with far more than he should rightly be able to.

It didn’t take too long before the sacks were ready and piled up for distribution. ‘All done?’ he asked, keeping the same pleasant tone he’d used earlier.

‘You want to count them?’ L’cal’s tone was petulant.

‘No, I’ll take your word for it.’ There looked to be plenty for what they’d need.

The group of bronze riders strode off, muttering and glancing back at him. There wasn’t anything they could do, so he didn’t worry himself too much about having upset them. The others stayed.

‘Thanks for that,’ H’rek said. ‘I’m not sure how it would have turned out if you’d not been here.’

‘You could have reported them for not doing their fair share.’

‘The trouble is, there’s no-one to keep them in hand,’ G’kal said. ‘When we were here before we had F’nor and J’cul supervising. It’s different now.’

‘They’ve been hanging around with F’drun a lot of the time,’ H’rek put in. ‘He’s told them they can all be in his Wing.’

‘His Wing? I didn’t know T’bor had promoted him.’ That didn’t sound good, if it was the case.

‘He hasn’t. But Kylara’s backing him up, so…’ H’rek tailed off, staring at his shoulder. ‘Are those Wingleader’s knots you’re wearing?’

‘You noticed at last.’ He smoothed the cords. ‘Think they suit me.’

‘Well, yes.’ He sounded concerned, rather than pleased. ‘But what’s happened to R’feem…?’

Shards! He must be thinking the worst. ‘He’s fine. Well, not fine, exactly. He broke his wrist yesterday. I’m in charge until he’s fit again.’

‘So you led the Wing in Fall today?’

‘First time, yes.’ He allowed himself a smile. ‘We did pretty well, all things told.’

H’rek grabbed him and pulled him into a hug. ‘That’s brilliant.’

‘Good on you.’ Av’rar smiled. He, and several of the others congratulated D’gar. ‘You deserve a drink. Let’s all go back to the Weyrhall to celebrate.’

H’rek stepped back to look at D’gar again, a grin on his face. ‘This’ll really annoy those idiots.’

‘I was waiting for them to notice but it seems they were too wrapped up in their own issues.’

‘So, what happened? I want to know the whole story.’

As they made their way back to the Weyrhall he told them everything. He’d just got to the part where Lessa had taken great relish in putting R’gul right as they arrived. The sun was rapidly sinking toward the western horizon and drudges were uncovering glowbaskets. An appetising smell of roasting wherry filled the air.

‘Are you going to stay for dinner?’

‘Might as well.’

H’rek led him to a table occupied by some of the recuperating riders from Benden. They moved up to make space for the newcomers. C’vash was among them. He looked sad, D’gar thought. ’N’bras sends his greetings,’ he said, realising that C’vash was probably worrying about his weyrmate. ‘We had a good Fall earlier. He and Genlorth are fine.’

C’vash gave a shy smile. ‘Thanks for letting me know.’ He sighed. ‘I wish I was back at Benden with him.’

‘Once you’re recovered, you will be.’ He wanted to say that he’d spoken to F’nor, but this wasn’t the time or place. Anyway, he had no way of knowing how long it might take F’nor to act on the information and he didn’t want to give C’vash false hope. Instead, he leaned across and lowered his voice. ‘My wingmate said F’drun has been giving you a few problems.’

C'vash nodded. ‘I try to keep away from him as much as I can.’

‘Best thing. He’s no right to bully anyone, you know. Maybe you should have a word with T’bor.’

He shrugged. ‘It’s petty stuff. Not worth bothering the Weyrleader. He’s got enough on his plate.’

‘That’s just your perception. T’bor still needs to know what’s going on in his Weyr.’ He suspected that C’vash also didn’t want to admit he couldn’t deal with it on his own. He’d been much the same, after all. ‘You might think it’s petty, but if it seems to be getting worse, or you feel like you can’t handle it, let someone else know.’

‘What are you having to drink?’ H’rek called over.

‘Just ale.’ If he had wine, he’d probably end up with a hangover. Besides, it was unlikely they had any Benden white here, or if they did, they’d not be serving it up in the Weyrhall. It amused him that he’d become so fussy over what he drank in such a short time. He turned back to C’vash. ‘Remember what I said. Don’t let F’drun make your stay here miserable.’

H’rek and G’kal brought a couple of big jugs full of ale across, plus a wineskin for those who preferred it. D’gar was glad he’d decided to stick to the ale, as it was a little while before dinner was ready and the youngsters were drinking fairly quickly. ‘Don’t forget you’re on standby for Fall tomorrow,’ he reminded them. Shells, but he sounded old and responsible all of a sudden. Just a couple of Turns ago he and S’brin had been having those wild parties, regardless of what was happening the next day.

‘Yes, Wingleader.’ H’rek nudged him and nearly made him spill his drink. ‘Oops, sorry.’

‘You will be,’ he joked back.

‘Food’s out,’ G’kal said. ‘Better get in the queue, or someone else will get all the best bits.’

As always, the food in Southern was excellent. D’gar wasn’t sure if that was because it was of a superior quality than what was tithed to the Weyr, or simply because it was far more fresh. He ate as well as he always did after Fall, making up for his scant breakfast. By the time he’d finished, the ale was having its usual effects. He’d not previously been in the Weyrhall for long enough to feel the need to empty his bladder, so he asked H’rek where the necessary was.

H’rek chuckled. ‘It’s a bit more primitive here. Follow the path to the left. You’ll find it from the smell. Or just water a tree.’

The others laughed too. ‘Yeah,’ Av’rar said. ‘We all keep a peg handy to put over our noses for when we need to use the pits.’

He left the Weyrhall, following the path, which was lit by a few glow baskets and by the pale light of Timor. The trees rustled softly; their leaves casting odd-looking shadows across the way. Out in the darkness, unfamiliar insects and animals grunted, croaked and trilled. In the sultry warmth of the tropical night, the smell of the pit latrine was ripe enough to make him feel queasy, so he opted to go behind a convenient bush instead.

It was easier finding the way back as the light shining out from the Weyrhall made it a beacon. Flying insects, attracted by the warm glow, fluttered around the eaves, then retreated as someone stepped out and began making his way along the same path. With the light behind him, he was just a silhouette. It wasn’t until they were a few paces apart that D’gar recognised F’drun. He stepped aside - the path was only wide enough for one person at a time - then, as they passed, found himself grabbed and pushed roughly against a tree.

‘Get your sharding hands off me!’ What did F’drun think he was doing now? The attack had taken him by surprise.

‘My lads tell me you were nasty to them this afternoon.’

‘They’re not “your lads”. But I can see where they got their manners from.’

F’drun leaned closer, so D’gar could smell the alcohol on his breath. ‘Don’t mess with me or you’ll regret it.’

D’gar forced himself to stay calm. ‘I think you’ll be the one regretting it. Assaulting a Wingleader is a serious offence.’

F’drun released him, throwing him off balance. ‘I saw you’d been promoted. How did you manage that?’

‘Not by sabotaging a flamethrower, like some I could mention.’ He could see from F’drun’s expression that had hit home.

‘Try proving it.’

‘I don’t need to.’ He tried to get past, but F’drun still blocked the path.

‘You might be untouchable, but there’s other ways I can get to you. Your weyrmate, for example.’

‘He's nothing to do with this. Leave him alone.’

F’drun smiled grimly. ‘You want to see what I can do? He might be off to Benden for a month, but then he’ll be back here again.’

D’gar shoved him aside. ‘You can’t hurt him, or his dragon.’ He wished he felt as confident as he sounded. ‘They’re wise to your ways now and you’ll not get away with it.’ He started to walk off.

‘Oh, won’t I?’ F’drun taunted. ‘Isn’t his dragon due to rise again soon? Might send Ryth up after that one.’

D’gar paused and looked back. ‘You wouldn’t dare.’

‘Can’t stop my dragon chasing a green now and again, can I?’ He began to chuckle. ‘Reckon we’d both enjoy that.’

His laughter followed D’gar all the way back to the Weyrhall.