Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 44. A Benden Rider

The Benden infirmary was becoming an all too familiar place. D’gar sat patiently as the healer examined him. He winced slightly whenever she hit a particularly tender spot.

‘You really do get yourself into the wars,’ she said. ‘But you’re right. There’s nothing broken. You won’t be feeling up to much for the next couple of days, though. I’ll give you some fellis to take for the pain and to help you sleep.’ She turned to H’rek. ‘Just two drops in a cup of wine should suffice. Don’t let him have too much.’

‘I know about fellis, thanks,’ D’gar said. ‘And I can still pour out my own wine.’ A sudden thought came to him. ‘It’s Fall tomorrow. Who’s going to lead the Wing?’

‘Isn’t that why you have Wingseconds?’ H’rek pointed out. ‘Don’t even think about trying to ride or I’ll have to be a bit more heavy handed with the fellis.’

The healer smiled. ‘Will you be able to get back to your weyr, or shall I have a bed made up for you here?’

‘I’ll get to my weyr.’ He’d managed to get back on Herebeth for the flight to Benden. The short hop up to the weyr wasn’t going to hurt any worse. ‘Thanks for the offer, though.’

‘Remember, take it easy for the next few days. Rest will help your body heal quicker than anything else.’

It was hard to believe that it was still only mid-afternoon. So much had happened in such a short space of time. As H’rek helped him to settle down and gave him the prescribed dose of fellis, he kept getting flashbacks to the earlier part of the day; sharply focussed images that snapped him back to full wakefulness, even though he just wanted to sink down into the soft mattress.

‘Would it help to talk about it now?’ he asked. ‘Or should I leave you to sleep?’

‘I can’t. Not right now.’

‘I knew there was something up with you this morning. Why didn’t you say something?’

‘I couldn’t. They’d told me not to. F’lar and Lessa,’ he explained. ‘We were concerned that F’drun might find out. I was worried for S’fyn’s safety more than anything. That’s why I didn’t tell them all of it. That’s why they’re not going to let me have that job.’

‘What?’ H’rek asked.

‘I was offered it before all this. When they still believed I was trustworthy and responsible. I’m lucky they’re even letting me stay here.’

H’rek looked puzzled. ‘I don’t understand. What are you talking about?’

The fellis was working now. His thoughts were spinning around. It was a similar sensation to being drunk. ‘I told them about F’drun threatening you. He was going to send Ryth after Rioth, when she next rises.’

H’rek looked horrified. ‘When did he say that?’

‘Back in Southern. That night we were all drinking. I didn’t want to tell you, because I knew you were worried enough about her next mating flight. But it turned out fine. Once I told F’lar, he said you could stay here and help me. So that problem was solved.’

‘What else happened?’ H’rek prompted him. ‘Why would Lessa and F’lar want you to leave Benden? Or not give you the Weyrlingmaster’s job?’

‘After I’d said about you, Lessa asked if I had anything else to tell them. About F’drun, that is. She said they might take a trip to High Reaches, but I never thought they’d actually go. You know how it’s been, the last few months. I’ve been trying to warn people F’drun was up to no good, but no-one took it seriously enough. I couldn’t take that chance, this time. Not with S’fyn risking his life.’

H’rek mulled that over. ‘So it was S’fyn who was spying on him? That makes sense. He was the one who sent you that message?’

D’gar nodded weakly. His eyes were heavy. He lay back on the pillow, but as he started to drift off, he felt himself falling again. He snapped back to wakefulness.

‘And you told that to F’lar and Lessa, I suppose?’

‘Only when they got back from High Reaches. She’d found out all about F’drun, knew how dangerous he was. She was angry I’d not given them the whole story.’

H’rek nodded. ‘I wouldn’t fancy being on the wrong end of Lessa’s temper. Did she shout much?’

‘She doesn’t shout. Just makes you feel like you should crawl away into some little crevice and never come out again. Anyway, she and F’lar had discovered most of what I already knew. That was when she said it was their decision as to when any of us get sent back to our own Weyrs. I thought she was going to get rid of me right away.’

‘But you hadn’t done anything.’

‘Exactly. And I should have done. I should have told them.’ Why was it so hard to make him understand?

‘You tried telling R’feem and that got you nowhere. Besides, why should you go to them? You aren’t a Benden rider. Weren’t, I mean.’

‘I doubt they’re going to want me to transfer now. Not when I’m no use to them.’ He felt that sense of despair begin to overwhelm him again. ‘By not telling them, it put a lot of people in danger. S’fyn, T’bor…’

’T’bor? Had F’drun threatened him too?’

Too many questions. He’d lost track of it all himself. ’Didn’t I say about that?’

H’rek shook his head.

‘He wanted to be Weyrleader. F’drun, that is. The only way Ryth would catch Prideth was to hurt T’bor. And get his bronze riders to block any other dragon.’ He sighed. ‘They were going to practise on green flights. On you.’ The urge to sleep was stronger now. He fought against it.

H’rek held his hand. ‘You’re not making a lot of sense. It’s probably best to tell me later on, once you’ve slept for a while.’

H’rek’s voice was slipping away, just as he’d slipped down the edge of the mountain. He was falling again…

I will not let you fall. Herebeth’s voice was soothing. You need to sleep now. I will keep you safe.

‘Would you like some klah?’ someone said. He recognised H’rek’s voice, distant, as he clawed his way back up from the fellis-induced stupor. He had no idea how long he’d slept. ‘Please,’ he said, his throat dry.

‘Oh, you’re awake now.’ H’rek leaned over the bed. ‘I was just asking the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman if they wanted klah. You want one as well?’

He nodded. Lessa and F’lar were here? In his weyr? He needed to wake up properly.

H’rek called down the service shaft. D’gar forced his eyes open, then tried sitting up. It didn’t hurt as much as he’d thought it might. That must be the fellis, too.

F’lar was perched on the edge of his desk, Lessa sitting in the chair beside it. ‘How are you feeling now?’ she asked kindly.

‘Full of fellis.’ That sounded funny. He laughed, then stopped as it sunk in they were actually there. For a moment, he’d thought it was all a dream. ‘Sorry. I should get out of bed.’

‘No need to stand on ceremony,’ F’lar said. ‘It’s just a quick visit. If you’re up to it, we should talk.’

H’rek returned with a tray of steaming drinks, placing them carefully on the desk. ‘There you are.’

He brought D’gar’s over, then turned back to the Weyrleaders. ‘Would you like me to leave you?’

‘No need. It’s your weyr, too.’ F’lar looked around. ‘This used to be mine, you know. This is where I first brought Lessa, when she arrived at Benden.’

Lessa smiled. ‘Seems like an age ago. Still, you’ve made it look nice.’

‘That was down to H’rek and J’rud,’ D’gar said, cradling the cup in both hands. ‘I can’t decorate to save my life, or so they tell me.’ He felt slightly more awake now.

‘Well, I daresay you won’t be here much longer,’ F’lar said.

D’gar’s heart sank. Had they changed their minds about letting him stay, as well?

‘Why’s that?’ H’rek asked, seemingly oblivious.

He vaguely remembered talking to H’rek before he’d dropped off, but couldn’t recall too much about what he’d said. So, H’rek probably didn’t know the half of what had been going on.

‘Well, you’ll be moving down to the Weyrlingmaster’s quarters, won’t you?’ F’lar picked a cup off the tray for himself and handed the other to Lessa.

It took a few moments for that to sink in. Hadn’t he just said…? ‘You mean you’re still offering me the job? You still trust me with your weyrlings?’

Lessa frowned. ‘I thought you already knew that. I’ve told you that you were our choice as Weyrlingmaster.’

Before everything, yes. He cast his mind back. This morning, she’d introduced him to T’bor and Kylara as Benden’s new Weyrlingmaster, but he’d assumed it was to avoid any complicated explanations. They’d needed to make everything seem as normal as possible, after all. ’Oh.’

‘You really do jump to conclusions, don’t you,’ she said. ‘First of all, you think that we’re going to throw you out of the Weyr, then that we don’t want you as Weyrlingmaster anymore.’

‘But I didn’t tell you the truth…’

‘“Put people’s lives in danger. Irresponsible.”’ she quoted. ‘You said all that before. And I’ll admit, it annoyed me - and I think F’lar would agree - that you didn’t come to us straight away with your information about F’drun. Although your explanation as to why made sense too, once I’d thought it through. We’ve not really encouraged any of you to integrate, even though it’s obvious you’ll all be here for a while.’

‘Although some folk seem to be managing to mix fairly well on their own.’ F’lar glanced at H’rek.

‘So you’ve forgiven me?’ He wanted to be absolutely sure.

‘Even if we had been having second thoughts, after your actions this morning any doubts were cast aside,’ F’lar said. ‘You saved S’fyn’s life at great risk to your own, in a totally selfless manner.’

‘Because I put him in danger in the first place,’ he muttered.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Lessa said. ‘Tell me, if F’drun had grabbed K’din instead, would you have done the same?’

He thought for a moment. He wouldn’t have wanted to see F’drun hurt anyone. ‘Probably, yes.’

‘So I’ve no misgivings about putting you in charge of our youngsters. You’ll teach them well, and stand as a shining example of how a dragonrider should behave.’ Lessa raised her cup of klah, then took a drink. ‘A Benden dragonrider, at that.’

D’gar felt confused again. ‘But I’m not…’

‘You are. We applied to T’ron the day you accepted the job and the transfer notification arrived back, signed and sealed while we were out of the Weyr this morning.’

H’rek clapped his hands in glee. ‘You see. I said it would all be fine.’

‘Did you? When?’ The fellis was still making his thought processes slightly fuzzy. In fact, could he really be sure that he hadn’t dreamed all of this?

Herebeth. Am I awake?

You do not talk to me when you sleep, so I believe you must be.

‘He’ll be all right,’ H’rek said. ‘It’s the fellis talking.’

‘You probably won’t feel like coming down to the dining hall this evening,’ F’lar went on. ‘So we’ll leave the formalities for another time. By the way, V’vil’s volunteered to act as Wingleader for Fall tomorrow. Are you happy with that?’

‘Perfectly. He’d be my choice too. And R’feem’s, for that matter.’

‘Good,’ Lessa said. ‘We’ll leave you to rest now.’

H’rek showed them out. D’gar sipped his klah. Everything was all right. He still had the job; had never lost it, if what they’d just said was true. He’d be staying at Benden, with H’rek. Despite the tiredness and the aches that lurked under the surface of his drugged state, he felt better than he had for a long while.

As always, injuries were much worse the following day. During the evening and night, he’d hobbled to the necessary a few times, feeling a bit stiffer and more bruised on each trip.

‘I’d give you more fellis, if I dared,’ H’rek said. ‘Usually, I don’t mind you moaning in bed, but I’d rather it not be from pain. Can’t you just slather yourself with numbweed, or something?’

‘Everything hurts.’ He cautiously stretched, feeling every muscle in his body protest. ‘I’d have to immerse myself in the stuff to do any good. No, I’ll be fine, once I get moving.’

‘This is what you’re going to be like when you’re eighty.’ H’rek stooped and pretended to hobble round the weyr. ‘Oh, my back! Oh, my leg!’ he said in a quavery voice.

‘You’ll be just as bad.’

‘I’ll be five Turns younger than you.’

‘Get off with you, youngster,’ D’gar put on a similar voice. ‘Go and shovel some firestone.’

‘It’s all done, ready for later. Want some breakfast?’

‘Might as well.’

By mid-morning, he let H’rek help him onto Rioth and ferry him down to the Bowl, where all of the Wing were eager to find out exactly what had happened.

‘Is it true you threw F’drun into a volcano after he tried to knife T’bor?’ M’rell asked.

‘Weyr gossip’s obviously been working as well as usual.’ D’gar sat in the proffered chair. ‘It wasn’t quite like that.’

‘But he’s definitely dead?’ T’burrad asked.

‘No-one would survive a fall from that height. Besides, Ryth went between.’

‘Good riddance,’ said T’rai. ‘I’m sorry about his dragon, but F’drun got what he deserved. I doubt anyone will mourn him.’

‘Kylara was pretty upset.’ He wondered if she was still grieving. T’bor wouldn’t have an easy time of it for a while.

‘And did Herebeth really pluck you from a rock sinking into a lake of lava?’ J’rud asked.

‘I don’t look singed, do I? Another exaggeration. He caught me in mid-air.’

The questions went on, not just from his Wing, but from quite a few curious Benden riders. By the time they started to get ready for Fall, he heard most of the more outrageous stories and hoped he’d quashed a few more. It wouldn’t stop the gossips, of course. They were bound to come up with some other over-dramatised versions. Although the whole thing had been quite dramatic enough, really.

Three days later his bruises were beginning to blossom into a variety of colours. At dinner, F’lar called him up to the top table to receive his Benden shoulder knots. Two sets; one for when he became Weyrlingmaster full time, the other interim set showing his current rank as Wingleader.

‘I’ll have those back once you don’t need them any more,’ F’lar said. ‘They’re my old ones, from before I became Weyrleader. Sentimental value.’

By then, the story of F’drun’s plot was known to everyone in the Weyr and the cheers echoing around the dining hall weren’t just from his wing riders. S’fyn and H’rek had helped to spread it, S’fyn adding a few flourishes of his own as he told of the secret meetings F’drun had held during which he enticed impressionable riders to join his cause. The youngsters who’d been part of that were given punishment duties and it was clear they’d lost a lot of respect from everyone in the Weyr. Hopefully it would be a wake-up call and they’d go on to better things.

One sunny afternoon, D’gar sat at the lakeside. Bavi had decided to hold another picnic. Dragons were splashing around in the water, children played the usual games, riders and weyrfolk ate and mingled.

J’rud, Sh’ran and T’rai shared the same spot as he and H’rek. Not for the first time, the topic of F’drun arose.

‘It’s a pity you never got the chance to find out why he did any of it,’ Sh’ran mused. ‘I mean I can understand wanting to be Weyrleader. It’s the ultimate ambition of most bronze riders, after all. But at any cost?’

T’rai threw a pebble into the water. ‘He was always having to prove he was better than anyone else. Don’t know why. He was brought up just the same as the rest of us. You’d think that Impressing a bronze would be enough to stop anyone feeling they weren’t good enough.’

‘A bronze who couldn’t catch a queen, though,’ D’gar put in. He’d found himself wondering about F’drun’s motivations often, when he wasn’t occupied with anything else. ‘Every time Ryth caught a green, it must have made F’drun hate himself that bit more.’

T’rai shuddered. ‘It wasn’t much fun being on the other end of that hatred, I can tell you.’

‘At least he can never hurt anyone else again,’ J’rud said in sympathy.

‘I was speaking with L’cal yesterday,’ H’rek said. ‘He feels ashamed that F’drun managed to take him in. But he said being part of that group made them all feel special; as if they’d been chosen for something important. He said F’drun could be very charming and persuasive when he wanted to be.’

D’gar remembered Pilgra telling him much the same. F’drun had befriended her when she was young and impressionable too.

‘What would have happened to him back at High Reaches, I wonder?’ J’rud said. ‘I mean, they couldn’t have kept him confined to his weyr forever and from what I gather, T’kul didn’t want him around.’

‘He’d not have been around long. T’kul can be pretty ruthless himself.’ T’rai said.

Everyone looked at him, as what he was implying sank in.

‘You mean he’d have been killed?’ H’rek asked, putting voice to what D’gar had been thinking.

‘F’drun’s not the only one at High Reaches who can arrange an unfortunate accident. I’ve seen it happen a few times, but you don’t ask questions.’ T’rai sighed. ‘You learn that pretty fast. And if you persist, then… things happen. Or, if you’re lucky, you get sent somewhere else. Like me, or T’burrad.’ He turned to D’gar. ‘You seem to have fallen on your feet here. Think you could put in a good word for me, with the Benden leadership? I’d like to be able to stay here.’

‘I can certainly try.’

The summer days flew past. D’gar had never worked so hard in his life. It was two days after R’feem had returned and taken back the Wing that Rioth rose, on a hot, sunny afternoon. D’gar was in the middle of a meeting with the Search riders, who’d already made a few trips around the nearest Holds to select likely candidates. In hindsight, H’rek had been in a strange mood all day, although he’d put it down to indigestion after eating one too many meat rolls for breakfast. Rioth hadn’t looked any brighter than normal that morning, although Herebeth had commented she was ‘grumpy’. She’d taken herself up to the fire heights and baked in the sun there.

‘So, if you go back to Greystones and pick up the two lads who were too young for the last clutch, then those three at Bayhead…’ D’gar paused as H’rek ran in to the barracks. ‘What’s the hurry?’

‘It’s Rioth.’

Rioth is waking, Herebeth said. She is also glowing.

‘Excuse me,’ D’gar said to the Search rider, who gave a smile, as his dragon obviously passed on the message and he realised what was about to happen.

‘Why does she always take me by surprise like this?’

‘Give her another Turn and you’ll get more warning. Hey, next time it happens, I could use you as an example for weyrling training.’

H’rek gave him a dirty look and stomped outside as Rioth swooped down to break the neck of a small herdbeast who never even had a chance to run. He controlled her well, only allowing her to drink the animal’s blood. She raised her dripping muzzle over the carcass and called out her challenge to the gathering male dragons. D’gar had a quick count. Two browns, two blues and a bronze, so far. The sunny weather had caused quite a number of greens to rise over the past sevenday, which had reduced the number of frustrated male dragons eager to chase. That would be to his - and Herebeth’s - advantage.

‘Stay with her, remember,’ he said, standing next to H’rek, whose glassy stare showed that he was already caught up in Rioth’s mind more than his own. ‘Everything will be fine.’

‘Where’s Herebeth?’ he asked, slurring his words.

‘Perched on one of the empty weyr ledges, watching her every move. If Rioth wants him to catch her, he will.’

Several riders were already in the semi-darkness of the flight cave as he helped H’rek inside. He recognised a few of them this time around. He was surprised to see W’stel among them.

‘Sorry,’ he mumbled. ‘Balarth decided this was the time he was going to start chasing greens.’

‘Don’t apologise. You can’t stop your dragon when he makes his mind up.’

He hadn’t expected to see M’shol, the sole bronze rider among the pack. As a former follower of F’drun, he’d found his popularity in the Weyr had sunk very low. D’gar hoped he wasn’t there to try any dirty tricks.

Watch Kurmianth, he sent to Herebeth. He may be up to no good.

Another couple of riders hurried inside; T’garrin and Av’rar. T’garrin gave him a wry look and a shrug. Belloth didn’t chase very often and his choices were always random. He didn’t win very often either, so probably not one to be concerned about. Av’rar might be in with more of a chance. Jernith came from the same clutch as Rioth and that often worked in a dragon’s favour

H’rek sat on the edge of the bed, looking uncomfortable. D’gar wondered if he’d learn to enjoy this aspect of Impressing a green dragon. Some riders never did.

Hasn’t she gone yet?

Killed a second time. Herebeth’s comment was short. He was too attuned to Rioth to pay much attention to communication. D’gar shut his own eyes briefly to get a glimpse through Herebeth’s; Rioth, sitting up on her haunches and casting a haughty gaze at her prospective suitors. H’rek mirrored her moves, totally at one with his dragon. As she leapt into the air, he gave a start, looking up to the ceiling of the cave.

D’gar knew that H’rek was seeing only sky, feeling the power of Rioth’s wings and her desire to mate. Dragonlust clouded his human mind until he stopped fighting it. He let his own consciousness fade to the background as he became one with Herebeth, rising above the Weyr in hot pursuit. As expected, the blue dragons had the edge in this early part of the flight. Their speed and agility meant they were quickest away. Herebeth and Balarth trailed behind slightly. D’gar and Herebeth both knew they should avoid getting caught up with Balarth; he was a clumsy dragon at the best of times and in the throes of lust, might be even less careful. Kurmianth was still catching up, but he shouldn’t be discounted.

Rioth ascended rapidly; the same tactic she’d used in her previous mating flight. H’rek twisted around to look behind him, mimicking her moves. Soon, the Weyr was far below them. Herebeth saw Belloth and Jernith almost catch each other’s wingtips in their efforts to pull ahead of each other. T’garrin shoved Av’rar, throwing him off balance. Av’rar pushed him back. Good. If they were more concerned with stopping each other, Rioth would easily increase her distance.

Having gained sufficient height, she tested them in different ways, turning quickly one way and another, changing direction constantly to confuse her pursuers. She dived close to one of the peaks, skimming a landscape of scree and dark rock. Herebeth stayed with her. D’gar winced as a slope loomed up, far too close for comfort, bringing back his own memories of hurtling down a mountainside. Mustn’t do that, he told himself, quieting the rational, human part of his mind. Herebeth knows what we’re doing.

Kurmianth had caught up now, pushing Balarth back to third place. Another Benden brown flew alongside, although keeping several dragon lengths distance. An older dragon, wise to the ways of mating flights and not wanting to get involved in the rough and tumble. Herebeth needed to get free of the others too, but couldn’t right now, with Rioth leading the pack this way and that. If he chose the wrong way, he’d never get close enough again.

The pursuit continued, across the mountains. After a particularly taxing set of moves, Belloth turned aside and banked away back to the Weyr. His heart obviously wasn’t in it. Rioth was too young; too full of energy to be a quick catch. D’gar registered T’garrin leaving the cave, shaking his head sadly.

H’rek gave them all a crafty smile as Rioth pulled a classic green manoeuvre, almost stalling as she turned on a wingtip, to slip sideways into a narrow-walled canyon. Jernith followed her almost as easily, while Kurmianth hadn’t any hope of matching that kind of move. It was as much as he could do to avoid smashing into the rock face. Balarth almost collided with him in panic, while Herebeth, being smaller than the Benden dragons, managed to follow her without losing too much ground. He couldn’t see where the other brown had gone.

It had been a good move, but Rioth was losing her advantage by having to fly straight through the canyon. She needed to gain height again. Herebeth was keeping up. He could get even closer if Jernith wasn’t in the way, but there definitely wasn’t room to overtake. As Rioth started to climb up towards clear sky, the older brown dropped down from above. He’d taken a short cut over the top, being more familiar with the terrain. His forelegs grazed her flank as he attempted to seize her. His rider grabbed at H’rek, who fought back.

It was far too close, D’gar knew, despairing that at any moment the Benden brown would manage to snare her sufficiently that she couldn’t get away. But then they burst out of the confined space into a wider valley, giving Rioth the room she needed. She turned aside and dived, leaving the other dragon grabbing at empty air. H’rek triumphantly shoved the man away.

Herebeth got alongside Jernith. The blue dragon was faltering now, his reserves of strength almost depleted. But as Rioth tired too, Jernith took his chance at a catch. Av’rar stepped closer to H’rek, a smile on his face. Rioth glanced behind her again, sensing the proximity of another dragon, then decided that it wasn’t to be Jernith’s lucky day. She turned again, putting herself closer to Herebeth, slowing just enough so that he could reach out for her.

D’gar’s arms caught H’rek as he pulled them close. ‘I’ve got you,’ he said, struggling out of his own clothes while helping H’rek to do the same as dragonlust sent them both into a frenzy of desire. After that, there wasn’t any need for speech, just the dragon fuelled imperative that was impossible to resist. Herebeth and Rioth glided together, borne up by his wings as they consummated their union over the Benden mountains.

At last he regained control over his own body and emotions. He held H’rek close, waiting for him to find his own way back. It had been an intense experience, different from their usual lovemaking, but that was what you expected in a mating flight. If Rioth had picked another mate, he wouldn’t be here now, but that didn’t mean he loved H’rek any the less. He hoped H’rek would realise that, in time.

The glows in the flight cave were dim, but sunlight from the bowl found its way around the curtain, which hadn’t been drawn fully across by the losing riders. H’rek slowly opened his eyes, relaxing against D’gar. ‘I thought Rioth was going to pick Jernith,’ he said quietly.

‘So did I.’ And sooner or later, by chance or by Rioth’s own choice a different dragon would catch her. ‘But this time it all worked out.’ He was aware, in the back of his mind of the dragons resting now, recovering their strength before beginning their long flight back to the Weyr.

‘I think I understand now.’ H’rek continued. ‘What you’ve said so many times. How we feel about each other won’t change. Mating flights don’t really count, whoever catches Rioth.’

D’gar smiled. ‘That’s right. Mating flights aren’t about us. They’re about the dragons.’ He kissed H’rek gently. ‘But right now, that is about us.’

H’rek smiled at him. ‘I know. Let’s enjoy it, eh?’