Threadfall - 3. The New Weyrwoman

D’gar got back to the barracks later than most of the other weyrlings. Support duties finished well after Fall ended, as you were expected to help clean up the infirmary and pack away unused supplies. He knew that he’d be asked about the incident; no-one could have failed to see the remains of the brown dragon on the Bowl floor and Weyr gossip would already be filling in details, true or imagined.

He spent a few minutes with Herebeth first. His dragon’s colour had dulled in response to the death. Although he tried not to, D’gar’s memory kept dredging up vivid and gruesome images. He tried as best as he could to block them, but Herebeth picked them up anyway.

You could not have helped him.

I know. It had been a horrible way to die. Usually, if a dragon was fatally scored, they just went between and never came back, just as they did if their rider died. He knew that the dead dragon’s rider hadn’t survived either. When he’d been taking pails of numbweed back to the store, he’d seen the man’s bloody remains lying on a pallet.

Doesn’t it bother you? he asked Herebeth.

I am sad he died. But we have to fight Thread. It is our purpose.

‘Are you all right,’ S’brin’s voice was soft as he put an arm around D’gar.

‘I’ve been better.’

‘They all want to hear about it. I’ll put them off, if you want.’

‘No, it’s fine.’ Maybe telling the story would purge it from his mind.

The other weyrlings were gathered around the long table where they usually sat for lectures. Most of the older riders, from his own and Loranth’s clutch were quiet, while the youngsters nudged each other, eager to hear the gory parts. He couldn’t blame them; he’d once have been the same. They made a space for him and crowded round as soon as he’d sat down.

‘Something bad happened today,’ he said. ‘I know I’m going to have to talk about it, so you might as well hear the truth from someone who was there than the gossip from folk who’ve only heard it third hand and made up what they don’t know.’ He told them the bare facts; the dragon falling to earth, slowed by Suderoth, the rider’s rescue, the awful moment when they saw that Thread was growing inside the dragon’s body. ‘He died very quickly,’ he said, even though when he’d been watching it hadn’t seemed nearly quick enough.

‘How could that happen?’ J’rud asked. ‘I thought between killed Thread.’

‘So did I. Maybe it had got too far inside by the time he went between?’ Exposed Thread froze fast, but if it was shielded by the warmth of a living body, then perhaps enough of it could survive. Even a small piece of Thread would soon multiply, given enough organic matter to feed on.

‘Did his rider die too?’

D’gar nodded. ‘I saw the body in the infirmary.’

‘Best thing, really,’ V’sil said. ‘No-one wants to live without their dragon.’

When D’gar had been small, there had been a rather sad, scarred older man who’d helped in the kitchens. He’d wondered how someone from the support staff had managed to get such bad scores and had been told the man had been a dragonrider and that his dragon had died. Everyone went out of their way to treat him kindly and tried to include him in conversations, but he’d always seemed slightly distant. He’d disappeared at some point; D’gar never found out if he’d left the Weyr or decided to join his dragon between.

‘He looked pretty bad by the time they got him off.’ Perhaps the rider had died at the same moment as his dragon? Or maybe the man’s death had been what triggered that final effort the dragon had made to get off the ground?

Most of the weyrlings cleared off when they realised they weren’t going to get any more details from him. J’rud and S’brin stayed, sitting either side of him.

‘It’s a shock, isn’t it?’ J’rud said kindly. ‘Seeing someone get scored is bad, but nowhere near as horrible as seeing a dragon die right in front of you…’

D’gar had never enjoyed the feeling of being drunk, but he understood now why some of the riders spent the evening after Threadfall sinking back enough alcohol to numb their senses. ‘It makes it all real,’ he said, trying to describe how he was feeling. ‘I mean, we know people and dragons die during Fall, but we don’t think about it most of the time.’ All of his clutch had made it through training so far, but it was inevitable that sooner or later one of them would be careless, clumsy or just plain unlucky. ‘It could have been someone we knew, or even one of us.’

‘Don’t say that,’ S’brin said. ‘None of us are going to die any time soon.’

‘We don’t know that for sure. We like to think it. But I’ll bet that rider today felt certain he’d be having dinner tonight and chatting with his friends, just like he’d always done.’

J’rud nodded. ‘That’s how it is. Death happens, out of the blue. Bang, and you’re gone.’

Silence fell for a while until S’brin broke it with a nervous laugh. ‘We shouldn’t talk about it too much. No point in making ourselves miserable.’

D’gar knew he was right. He’d give anything not to have seen the incident and he really wanted to be able to forget about it. He just couldn’t.

‘How about we go to the kitchens and see if your mum will give us some sweet rolls fresh from the oven?’

‘Maybe.’ D’gar didn’t really feel like eating, but it was something to do.

‘Come on, then. If you’re there with a face like that, she’ll definitely take pity on us.’

The gruesome death had affected everyone. Even the kitchen workers seemed subdued as they went about their tasks with far less banter and laughter than usual.

‘How are you feeling,’ Agarra asked, with a fair amount of sympathy.

‘Not too bad, now.’

‘It wasn’t a pretty sight,’ she agreed. ‘Not seen one as bad as that for a while. You lads sit yourself down and I’ll fetch you something nice to eat.’

S’brin glanced at D’gar and mouthed, ‘Told you.’

Agarra brought a platter of sweet biscuits and cakes back from the warming oven. ‘There you go,’ she said, passing them around. ‘I’ll take five minutes before I have to get on with prep for dinner.’ She sat next to them. ‘I remember when I first came to the Weyr. Seventeen, I was. Pregnant too. Not with him.’ She gestured toward D’gar. ‘He was later. But I was an embarrassment to the family and they didn’t want me around. No chance of marrying off spoiled goods, my dad said.’

‘Holdbred attitudes,’ J’rud slurred through a mouthful of cake.

‘Well, yes. I came here because I’d heard they’d take in anyone. I knew my way around a kitchen already and they were glad of the help…’

D’gar had heard her story a few times before. He nibbled on a biscuit.

‘When you grow up in a Hold or Craft, it’s a different world,’ she said. ‘We’d learned about what dragons did to protect us but it wasn’t until I saw the results first hand that I really understood. I remember seeing a young man, only a few Turns older than I was, with a leg missing. Another with a badly scarred face. It shocked me. And seeing the injured dragons was even worse. I’d never thought about dragons getting hurt, before. I used to cry after every Fall, with the state of some of them. But that’s how it is at the Weyr, isn’t it? Thread’s got to be stopped or none of us would have any sort of life.’ She sighed. ‘I suppose what I’m trying to say is that you’re all going to see your share of nasty sights over the next few Turns. You’ll feel bad about it, but you’ll get used to it, too. Like I have.’

J’rud nodded. ‘When that pair died in front of me, it gave me a real turn. But I guess the next time, it won’t be so bad.’

‘What happened today is rare,’ Agarra continued. ‘That’s why it’s hit us all hard. But life has to go on.’

‘Any chance of another sweet roll?’ S’brin asked, hopefully.

‘Get off with you,’ Agarra aimed a good-natured cuff at him. ‘You’ll spoil your dinner. Pity I can’t get my son to eat as well as you do.’ She picked up the empty platter. ‘I’m proud of you all, doing what you do. Ordinary folk might not know the ins and outs of it, like weyrfolk do, but they’ll still respect you and give you your due.’

‘Your mum’s great,’ S’brin said, later. ‘She really cares for you.’

S’brin’s foster mother had been too busy supervising the maintenance crew to pay her children much attention. They were fed, clothed and given a good understanding of how all of the Weyr’s complex systems functioned, but once they’d got old enough not to need her, she hadn’t taken much interest in their lives. Agarra was different. Although D’gar happened to be her child by birth, he’d been brought up the same as all of her fosterlings. There had always been plenty of love and cuddles. ‘Agarra’s all right,’ he said.

‘It’s a pity women can’t Impress, except for golds. She’d have been good with a dragon.’

‘They did, way, way back.’ He’d read about it in some of the oldest records. ‘Women used to ride greens as well.’

‘Really?’ S’brin sounded surprised. ‘Bet those mating flights were popular with the bronzes.’

Male dragons chased females whenever they felt like it. If their riders ended up with a partner who wasn’t the gender they normally preferred, that was just tough. But D’gar thought it was probably one of the reasons why green riders sometimes ended up hurt.

‘Talking of which, Zemianth’s starting to take an interest in other dragons. She did last time, but I never thought anything of it. I reckon it’s one of the signs she’s getting closer to rising.’

‘How close?’

He shrugged. ‘That’s what I can’t be sure of. Maybe another sevenday? Maybe longer.’

‘It’ll still be too soon for Herebeth.’

‘He’ll mature quickly enough. Look at Toth. Suddenly, he’s taking an interest.’

‘Maybe he’ll chase Zemianth?’ D’gar hoped he would. At least M’rell was a friend.

‘Probably won’t catch anyone the first time. Although Zemianth likes browns and bronzes. She says they can carry her a lot further than a blue when they’re mating. So when Herebeth’s ready, she’ll be happy.’

‘I’ll be happy too.’ Not that there was anything wrong with their sex life. Just that he wanted to be able to share in those special moments. He remembered Valli telling him how good it could be, when you were still caught up in the dragonlust following a flight but had regained enough of your own senses to know who you were with and what you were doing.

S’brin glanced at him. ‘I haven’t had a chance to wash yet. Do you fancy going to the baths now? Bet we’ll have the place to ourselves, more or less.’

‘Good idea. I need to clean up my score anyway. And put some numbweed on it.’

‘Go and fetch it, then. Just don’t get the numbweed mixed up with that other pot on the shelf or neither of us will have much fun for a while.’

A few days later, D’gar was walking back from the infirmary. The healer had told him he’d be fine to go between again and that there was no reason he couldn’t return to active duty. As he passed, he couldn’t help but notice the charred patch of ground where Branluth - that had been the dragon’s name - had died. It was sunny again; summer was definitely on the way and quite a few dragons were taking advantage of the weather to sun themselves. Dragons were a lot like felines, he’d often thought. They loved to soak up the sun, yet at the same time, their thick hides protected them from the chill of between and they certainly didn’t seem to be affected by cold to the same extent as their riders.

The sun is pleasant, Herebeth said, picking up on those portions of his thoughts that were interesting to a dragon. He’d found himself a place on the fire heights, next to Toth and Zurinth. The older dragons had already grabbed the better spots; weyrlings had to make do with what was left. Suderoth’s clutch, who were still too young to be able to fly to the heights, were clustered around the north shore of the lake, trying to track what little sun was getting to the floor of the Bowl so early in the morning. As he strolled back toward the barracks - there was no hurry as this was a rest day - he noticed Gemalth making her ungainly way down the track. Zalna walked alongside, braiding her long chestnut coloured hair into a thick plait. Two more steps and the young queen tripped, catching her wing tip with one of her front talons. She sprawled on the ground, making a slight whimpering noise. Zalna abandoned her half-braided hair and tried to untangle her dragon. D’gar couldn’t help but smile. It was so typical of young dragons: that clumsy awkwardness. The larger their eventual size, the worse they seemed to be. He’d untangled Herebeth from similar messes many a time.

‘Do you need a hand,’ he offered. Zalna would be overwhelmed by the panic of her dragon and probably couldn’t work out the difference between her own arms and Gemalth’s forelegs right now.

‘Please.’

‘Can you ask her to stop struggling for a moment.’ As soon as Gemalth stilled, he could see the problem and it only took a few seconds to sort out. She scrambled to her feet, furling her wings neatly against her flanks as if to say, ‘if I put these here that won't happen again.’

‘She keeps on doing that,’ Zalna said. ‘Is there… is there something wrong with her?’

‘Of course not. All young dragons are clumsy.’ Surely she’d have learned that in the weyrling classes? But then, he remembered gold riders didn’t attend many classes with the rest of their clutch. They were supposed to learn from the other weyrwomen. Mardra, however, wasn’t the most approachable of people and Tirelle, being pregnant, had her own problems.

‘Are you sure about that?’ she asked suspiciously.

‘Well, I know Herebeth was falling over his own feet for a good four or five months after he hatched. It’s perfectly normal. You should ask N’teren if you don’t believe me.’

She made a face. ‘He keeps telling me I should speak to Mardra. But every time I try to ask her something she looks at me like I’m a tunnel snake she’s found in her weyr. How am I supposed to learn anything?’ her voice rose slightly in frustration. ‘It’s all right for you folk who grew up in the Weyr. You understand how everything works around here.’

He felt a bit sorry for her. Although she was one of Suderoth’s clutch, she was set apart by having Impressed gold. ‘Why not ask me, then?’

‘Is that proper?’ She glanced around. ‘I mean, should I even be talking to you alone?’

He’d forgotten for a moment that she was Holdbred. ’This is the Weyr. No-one cares. Anyway, I’m not a bronze, so you don’t need to worry that I’ve got ulterior motives.’ He flicked his shoulder knot. ‘Besides, my weyrmate would get upset if I tried anything on with you.’

‘Your weyrmate? Is she jealous, then?’

‘Not usually. But he knows I’m not attracted to girls that way.’

Her eyes widened slightly. Another facet of Weyr life she must still be getting used to. ‘Oh. I see.’ She recovered gracefully. ‘Does he have a dragon too?’

‘Yes, a green. Hatched at the same time. Shall we sit in the patch of sun over there?’ He pointed to a slight rise in the ground. ‘Then you can ask away and Gemalth can sunbathe. You’ve probably noticed dragons do that a lot.’ He led the way, waiting for them to catch up, only then realising that she probably wouldn’t want to get her dress dirty. ‘Oh. Maybe you’d prefer to go over to that bench instead?’

‘It’s fine,’ she said. ‘Despite what my clutchmates might think, I’m not too stuck up to sit on the ground.’ She sank down, tidying her skirts as she did so. Gemalth settled beside her. ‘What’s your name?’

‘D’gar, Herebeth’s rider.’

‘And where’s Herebeth right now?’

‘Up there,’ he pointed to the fire heights. ‘He likes the view.’

Zalna sighed. ‘I wish Gemalth could fly.’

‘She will. You just have to be patient. You might have noticed she’ll do little hops now and then and spread her wings. It’s how they build up the flight muscles.’

‘That’s usually when she falls over.’

‘It happens. When Herebeth first started to fly properly he took a nose dive into the lake.’

That got a laugh out of her. ‘How old is he?’

‘Getting on for a Turn and a half now. For a brown, that means he’s more or less fully grown. He’s just got to fill out a bit more and build up his strength. I suppose they’ve told you gold dragons take longer to mature.’

She nodded. ‘I’ve picked up a few facts here and there.’

D’gar carried on. ‘She’ll probably not fly until she’s a Turn or so. There’s a lot more dragon for those wings to lift, after all.’

‘All she does is eat and grow. I never realised there was so much washing and oiling to do.’

‘That’s the downside of having a bigger dragon. But it’ll be worth it when you finally get to fly on her.’ It always took his mind back to his first flight on Herebeth, Valli and Kadoth looking on. ‘And in a few Turns, she’ll start having clutches of her own and you’ll be as proud as anything watching them learning to fly themselves.’

Zalna looked down, a slight flush blooming on her cheeks. ‘After she mates, you mean.’

‘Well, yes. They have to mate before they can lay eggs. But that won’t be for a good while yet. Suderoth didn’t rise for the first time until she was nearly three Turns old. And as we’re getting toward the end of the Pass, none of the queens will be rising so often. Although Loranth’s overdue.’

‘Someone told me about mating flights,’ she said quietly. ‘When I saw a green rise for the first time. I didn’t know what it was about.’

‘Green flights are nothing. Just wait until one of the queens rise. You’ll be able to stay here and enjoy it being as Gemalth’s still too young to be affected.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Queens are very possessive about their mates. When one rises, the others have to leave the Weyr until the flight’s over, in case they fight. But chances are Loranth will mate again before your Gemalth can even fly.’

She considered this for a moment. ‘In the Hold, people said everyone at the Weyr… well, that you all…’ Her blush became deeper.

D’gar worked out what she was too embarrassed to say. ‘You mean they told you we all have a wild orgy when the dragons mate?’

‘Well, yes.’

‘It’s not compulsory,’ he joked. ‘I mean, gold dragons broadcast their desire fairly widely, so you’ll definitely feel like it, but it’s resistible, if you don’t want to. When Suderoth rose last time I ended up helping my mum peel vegetables in the kitchen. Anyway, I’m sure you’ve been told you shouldn’t have sex with anyone while Gemalth’s young, in case it confuses or upsets her.’

She gave a little nod. ‘One of the few things Mardra did tell me.’ She paused again. ‘You’re all so… so open about it. It takes some getting used to. My mother would probably have fainted at the mere idea of sex.’

‘She must have done it at least once, or you wouldn’t be here.’

That got a smile from her. ‘What I mean is that no-one ever told me anything. “Well brought up young ladies shouldn’t think about things like that,” is what they’d have said.’

‘It’s definitely not like that in the Weyr. So, you mean you’ve never had a boyfriend?’

‘Well, I was betrothed to be married before I was Searched.’

‘Oh. Were you very much in love with him?’ Maybe that was why she looked so sad a lot of the time.

She gave a little laugh. ‘It wasn’t about love. It was about land. When the dragons came on Search, my family were torn between pride at me being chosen to go to the Weyr and annoyance that they might lose out on a good deal.’

Being married off like that sounded much worse than any mating flight. At least when it was over, you had a choice about whether you wanted to have sex with the person again. ‘Did they? Lose out, I mean.’

‘No. My younger sister’s going to marry him now.’

‘You’ll have a better life than that here,’ he said, feeling he should reassure her. ‘I know a lot of our ways seem strange right now, but you’ll soon get used to them. And as a weyrwoman you’ll have as high a status as any Lady Holder.’

‘I know. I’ve just been feeling a bit lost. I mean, Impressing Gemalth was wonderful.’ Her face took on the soppy expression a lot of people got when they remembered that special moment. ‘It’s just I haven’t really had anyone to talk to, since I arrived. The lads from my clutch are so young.’

It was traditional for weyrwomen to be older than the boys when they stood on the Sands, mainly so they could handle the responsibility of the position. ‘How old are you?’ he asked.

‘Nineteen Turns. You?’

‘Sixteen. Well, almost seventeen, now.’

She looked surprised. ‘I thought you were older than that. You seem a lot more mature.’

‘I’m old before my time, folk say. Or that I think too much.’

Her eyes went unfocussed for a moment as she spoke with her dragon. ‘Gemalth’s getting impatient, I’m afraid. She wants to join the others at the lake, so I’m going to have to go now. But can I see you again? There’s so much more I’d like to ask.’

‘Any time. Just get Gemalth to bespeak Herebeth and he’ll let me know.’ He helped her to get to her feet.

She brushed dust from her skirt as Gemalth began to rush off with the all the energy of a baby dragon. ‘Wait for me, silly,’ she called, running to catch up. ‘Don’t get yourself in a tangle again.’

By lunchtime, it was getting hot. Most of the weyrlings grabbed food from the dining hall and took it outdoors to eat. D’gar and S’brin settled down to one side of the landing area. They were soon joined by J’rud, T’kes and R’chol.

‘Hot today,’ R’chol commented.

‘Really. I hadn’t noticed.’ J’rud always liked to joke, but today his response seemed more annoyed than humorous.

‘What’s up with you? Feeling proddy?’ R’chol responded.

R’chol’s Carainth had risen just a sevenday previously and last time, Zurinth hadn’t been too far behind, D’gar remembered. He glanced up at the fire heights. All three dragons were still lying up there in the full glare of the sun, but against the bright sky it was impossible to tell if Zurinth’s colour had intensified.

J’rud gave R’chol a dirty look. ‘If D’gar was feeling irritable, no-one would say he was proddy. So why should it be any different for a green rider?’

‘Just saying,’ R’chol protested. ‘So, how’s Zurinth feeling?’

J’rud obviously asked her. ‘Don’t know. She’s asleep.’

‘Stop squabbling and eat your lunch before anything else does,’ S’brin said, cutting slices from a meat pie with his belt knife and trying to keep the flying bugs away at the same time.

‘Yes, mum,’ D’gar said, ducking instinctively as S’brin threw a pickle at him.

T’kes caught it deftly and stuffed it in his mouth. This prompted a game in which everyone tried to catch different foodstuffs in their mouths. Quite a lot ended up on the ground, amid laughter and shouts.

D’gar noticed a couple of older riders watching them, shaking their heads in disapproval. ‘Tone it down a bit, lads,’ he said. ‘We don’t want to get into trouble.’

‘Any more trouble,’ T’kes said pointedly, looking at S’brin. ‘Just finished midden duty, haven’t you?’

S’brin nodded. ‘And just in time. It’ll be getting pretty ripe in this heat.’

‘I really thought you were going to clobber T’mudra,’ R’chol said. ‘Pity N’teren stopped it when he did.’

‘Probably a good thing for T’mudra,’ S’brin said. ‘One of these days he’s going to push me too far.’

M’rell and K’torl came over to join them. ‘We could hear you lot from inside the dining hall,’ K’torl said.

‘Wondered what we were missing.’ M’rell flopped down, then prodded D’gar in the ribs. ‘Toth says he saw you with Zalna this morning.’

‘What?’ K’torl looked round. ‘You didn’t tell me that,’ he accused M’rell.

Everyone looked at D’gar. ‘I just helped her untangle her dragon, that’s all. Then we had a little chat.’

‘What’s she like?’ K’torl asked.

‘A bit shy. Still getting used to Weyr life. She’s nice,’ he finished. He wasn’t going to tell them what they’d been talking about. That was between him and Zalna.

‘How come you get to talk to the pretty girls,’ M’rell said. ‘You don’t even like them.’

‘That’s probably why,’ S’brin put in. ‘They know they’re safe with D’gar. Not like you two.’

‘That’s not fair,’ K’torl protested. ‘Mind you, I wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.’

‘Well, talk to her then,’ D’gar said. ‘All of her clutch are so much younger, she’d enjoy some company closer to her own age.’

‘I wouldn’t know what to say.’

D’gar shrugged. ‘Start with dragons. It’s something you’ve got in common.’

‘Yeah, you can tell her you’ve got a big bronze.’ M’rell suggested. ‘Ask her if she wants to stroke him.’ He and K’torl started laughing.

‘That’s really going to impress her,’ D’gar said. ‘Don’t forget she’s been properly brought up.’

M’rell carried on laughing. ‘We can soon get her out of that.’

‘I give up,’ D’gar said to S’brin. ‘How do these two jokers ever get any girls to take them seriously?’

‘Who knows? Mind you, M’rell’s got some hidden talents.’

‘True,’ D’gar agreed.

‘Hey!’ M’rell started to look worried as K’torl glanced at him inquiringly, but any further questioning was averted as J’rud abruptly said. ‘I feel weird.’

‘It’s that pie,’ T’kes prodded at the remains of what was on the plate. ‘I thought it tasted funny.’

‘Not sick. Just…’ J’rud looked up towards Zurinth. ‘Shells! She’s going to rise.’

‘What, right now?’ R’chol asked.

J’rud nodded. His eyes became glazed as he linked minds with his dragon. He opened his mouth as if he was trying to speak, but no words came out.

‘Better get him to the flight cave.’ S’brin was always practical. He and R’chol helped J’rud to his feet. D’gar shaded his eyes and looked up to where Zurinth, now wide awake, was sitting back on her haunches, glaring at the other dragons around her.

Herebeth? Are you…? He saw Herebeth dodge as Zurinth wheeled around, almost lashing him in the face with her tail.

I am trying to get out of her way. Herebeth said. She is not herself.

That was one way of putting it. It also told him that Herebeth wasn’t interested in chasing her. Toth, however, was a different story. He was sitting up as well, watching Zurinth’s every move. M’rell gazed up towards his dragon, eyes wide.

Zurinth shrieked, attracting the attention of several other male dragons. Herebeth launched himself from the heights and circled down into the Bowl. As he descended, a few other dragons took wing, landing at a safe distance as Zurinth continued to taunt them.

T’kes nudged D’gar. ‘Think we’d better get M’rell over there, too.’

M’rell had the vacant look of someone whose mind wasn’t where it should be. D’gar helped him up, wondering if he’d be affected as badly when Herebeth finally took it upon himself to chase a green. Together, he and T’kes guided him into toward the flight cave. A few other riders were hurrying toward it as well. D’gar recognised H’sal. Trust him to be there when it was a young dragon about to rise.

Above them, Zurinth gave one final, piercing shriek before she sprang into the air, her suitors in hot pursuit. T’kes gave M’rell a friendly push into the cave, just as S’brin and R’chol emerged.

‘Well, that was unexpected. Must be all that sun,’ S’brin said.

‘Is Zemianth…?’ D’gar worried that the weather might trigger her into rising too.

‘No, she’s the same as ever today.’

‘Is he going to be all right?’ D’gar tipped his head toward the cave.

‘He’ll be fine.’ R’chol seemed unconcerned. ‘M’rell’s about to have his first flight too, I see.’

‘Yeah, he was in a daze so we thought we’d be kind and make sure he got here,’ T’kes said.

‘Well, nothing else we can do now,’ S’brin started walking back. ‘Might as well finish our lunch.’

It wasn’t a particularly long flight. Generally, it was only when greens blooded their kill, like a gold, that they had sufficient energy to fly very far. They’d barely finished eating before the losing riders made their way out of the cave. D’gar was glad to see H’sal was one of them. So was M’rell, but he didn’t re-join them.

‘Probably off to find Rina,’ K’torl said. ‘Now he’s got himself all worked up.’

‘So who caught Zurinth?’ R’chol asked.

S’brin had been watching the riders exiting the cave. ‘I think it must have been Jekkoth. I’ve not seen G’reden come out.’

‘Good for him, then. That’s the third time Jekkoth’s chased, but the first one he’s caught.’ R’chol finished up a piece of fruit. ‘We’ll have to have a drink later to congratulate him.’