Empty, Open, Dusty, Dead - 5. The Benden Weyrwoman

The Turn’s End festivities were almost over. Everyone was stuffed with good food, exhausted from dancing and merry on wine and ale. Zalna looked over the tables, happy all of her weyrfolk had enjoyed themselves. That was the big difference this Turn. She was now the Benden Weyrwoman and T’san its Weyrleader. Morna had retired to Ista with N’rax permanently, although they’d been living there during the colder months for the past two Turns.

What a flight it had been! It wasn’t the first time Huylonth caught Gemalth, but the last had been over five Turns ago. There was no need for queens to rise so frequently now that they were well into the Interval. Gemalth would never produce eggs at the rate Suderoth and Loranth had needed to, but her offspring would ensure Benden Weyr’s dragon population stayed at a healthy level.

T’san’s list of those who had died during the past Turn had been small; elderly weyrfolk; two riders who had succumbed to heart problems and four women who’d died from complications due to childbirth. That always sent a shiver through her. It could so easily have been her own name on that list, three Turns previously. She and T’san had a fine daughter in Talanza, but she’d been warned a second pregnancy might not end so well. Now, if she was late with her courses, she did what she must, took a few rides between and made sure her own life was safe. Each time brought a pang of regret for those babes who might-have-been.

‘You look sad.’ T’san touched her arm.

‘Just thinking about those we’ve lost. Turn’s End brings back all sorts of memories.’

‘That it does. It’s a time we celebrate and also mourn those who won’t be going forward into the new Turn with us.’

‘And tomorrow the new Turn dawns. Turn eleven of the Eighth Interval.’ Threadfall seemed a lifetime ago. Even the Disappearance was no longer discussed much. The other five Weyrs had vanished, but what did it matter? Zalna had seen for herself how some Holders already grew lax in keeping green from around their dwellings. This Turn, she and T’san intended to visit each Hold to ensure the old ways were kept. Although there was no fear of Thread’s immediate return, it didn’t do to become complacent. Folk needed to be reminded of those dreadful times.

‘As it’s a holiday, let’s visit Ista during the next few days. I’ve a few questions I’d like to ask N’rax before we start preparations for the Spring Games.’

‘That would be lovely. I’ll never say no to some sun in midwinter.’

‘You’re as bad as a dragon,’ T’san agreed. ‘Mind you, Huylonth would enjoy a swim, too.’

The Ista project had been going for several Turns now. Many of the retired riders and weyrfolk were eager to take up the offer and the Headwoman had worked out a rolling rota so that Lower Caverns workers spent a few months of every Turn there. People being people meant many of the women had given birth to children, so that the Weyr had begun to fill naturally. Ista Hold also enjoyed having the presence of dragonriders nearby, even though Thread was no longer a threat. It would never be a proper Weyr, of course. The only gold dragon living there was Nonath and her clutching days were past.

‘You know, I’ve been thinking,’ T’san said later, back in their weyr.

‘That’ll be a first,’ Zalna joked. She didn’t really mean it. T’san was always coming up with ideas no one else would have dreamed of. Just like D’gar had. Funny, but she’d not thought of D’gar for a while. As always, she hoped he was happy wherever he had gone and that he might have found someone to love again, as she had.

‘About Ista,’ he went on. ‘Once Gemalth lays a golden egg, maybe we should send her daughter there.’

‘Why? We only have Gemalth and Terirth here at Benden. There’s plenty of room for another queen.’

‘Yes. But we have to think of the future. In another hundred and eighty-nine Turns, give or take a few, Thread will return. If all of the other Weyrs are still empty, then…’

He didn’t need to finish the sentence. It would be a disaster for Pern. ‘I know,’ she said.

‘So if we can gradually re-populate the other Weyrs, or at least a couple of them, it shouldn’t be quite so bad. Ista’s good, because it’s in the south. We should maybe think about restoring High Reaches too, as it’s furthest out west.’

Zalna did some quick calculations. ‘But with the queens laying so infrequently during an Interval, they certainly wouldn’t end up at full strength.’

‘No, that’s true. Although around fifteen Turns before the next Pass begins, they’ll begin to rise more frequently again. If we already have the infrastructure in place, we should be able to cope. Well, cope better than if there’s just the one Weyr left to cover the whole of Pern.’

Zalna thought about it for a while. It made sense. Although she and T’san would be long dead before then, they could leave a legacy behind them. ‘It’s a brilliant idea,’ she said. ‘It makes perfect sense. Although it won’t be so easy getting people to volunteer to re-settle in High Reaches rather than sunny Ista.’ She paused. ‘What about the other theories, though? You know, the ones which say the other five Weyrs will all return when they’re needed.’

T’san shook his head. ‘Speculation. We can’t rely on that. If we’ve prepared and then they do return, it’ll just mean more dragons to go around. No one will mind about that at the start of a Pass.’

‘Shall we talk it over with Morna and N’rax?’

‘I intend to. I know we’re the leaders now, but it’s respectful to ask their advice. Besides, they might have some fresh ideas on how to accomplish it.’

Two days later they set off just after a sleet shower had passed over Benden Weyr. It was a shock to the system when the black of between gave way to brilliant blue skies and sunshine. Down below, the sea sparkled and dragons sunbathed around the Weyr bowl. Nowhere near as many as if it had been a fully-populated Weyr of course, but as least it didn’t have that abandoned look of the other four. As they descended on a gentle spiral, Zalna caught sight of Nonath sprawled on the heights.

They landed, the dragons’ wings sending up plumes of dust, just as she remembered from those long, dry summers at Fort. A few of the more able-bodied riders strolled over to help remove their dragons’ straps, then guided them toward the cool of the dining hall. Strips of fabric formed an awning outside, where tables and benches had been set up in the shade for those who preferred to stay outside.

Zalna immediately felt overdressed in her long, waxed coat and wherhide. She and T’san got out of those quickly, dumping their excess clothing on one of the tables as Morna arrived to greet them.

She glanced quickly at the winter wear. ‘Nice and warm at Benden again, I see.’

‘Lovely. We could barely tear ourselves away. Happy Turn’s End, by the way. Did you have a good time?’

‘We did. We feasted out here. You know, some of these old folk behave worse than the young ones.’ Her eyes sparkled as they’d used to do. She was lightly tanned and moved far more easily than Zalna had seen for Turns. ‘I’ll call N’rax. He’ll be so pleased to see you. He’s fishing with some of the other men right now.’

They were brought iced drinks. Benden supplied Ista with blocks of ice from the mountains. It kept for months in cool caverns, she’d been told. Zalna felt herself begin to relax in the warmth, the bright sunlight reminding her of other times, other places. Maybe when she and T’san were old, they’d move here permanently, too. But that was a long way off. Plenty of work to be done before then.

She watched as Bidralth glided in to land, N’rax sliding down to present Morna with several fish strung onto a line. ‘I’ll just drop these in to the kitchen,’ he said. ‘Fancy fried fish later on?’

Morna smiled indulgently. ‘It’s become quite a challenge among the retired riders to see who can catch the most fish in an afternoon,’ she told Zalna. ‘The locals find it amusing, although it was some of their old men who showed them how it’s done.’

‘He looks well,’ T’san said.

Morna’s brow wrinkled slightly. ‘Oh, he is. Except…’ As N’rax returned to join them, she stopped talking.

They chatted for a short while, exchanging news about what had been happening at the two Weyrs. ‘Old E’sel passed away in his sleep just a few days before Turn’s End,’ Morna said.

‘He was, what, ninety odd?’ Zalna remembered him when he’d still been at Benden.

‘Yes. Born before the beginning of the last Pass and saw it all the way through. Quite a life.’

‘We’ve a few more older folk wanting to move down here, ’T’san said. ‘You know, those ones who were reluctant until stories began filtering back of how much better it is to sit in the sun rather than huddled around the night hearth.’

‘Let them visit,’ N’rax said. ‘We can take them fishing.’

‘That’s all they can talk about now,’ Morna put in. ‘Well, that and dragons, of course.’

Zalna thought it time to get on to the main business. ’T’san and I have come up with some ideas of how to further develop this place.’

‘Oh, yes?’ You could almost see Morna snap into her former role.

‘We thought we’d share them with you and see if you can help us with any advice.’ T’san began. He commenced by outlining his plans, as he had to Zalna just a few days ago, finishing with, ‘And that way, we’re better prepared for whatever the future brings.’

‘It’s well thought out,’ N’rax said. ‘And while some might say there’s no hurry, the sooner a long-term plan such as this commences, the better chance of its success.’

‘I agree.’ Morna said. ‘Although we would have to devise a fair way of deciding who is sent where.’

‘Rotation, maybe, similar to what happens with the Lower Caverns workers? Everyone gets time in the sun and time in the snow.’ T’san sucked a piece of ice contemplatively.

‘Well, I’m sure we can work out the details,’ N’rax said, smiling. ‘Shall I fetch some refills? Maybe T’san might fancy something a little stronger? The ale they brew locally is just the thing for a hot afternoon.’

‘I’ll come with you,’ T’san said. ‘I had a few questions about the Spring Games as well.’

Both men ducked inside the dining hall doorway. Morna watched them go, then turned to Zalna. ‘How does he seem to you? she asked.

’N’rax? Same as ever. Maybe a little more relaxed, but then he’s not having to worry about the Weyr any more. Why?’ She remembered what Morna had begun to say earlier.

‘Maybe it’s me. I’m not sure. It’s just, there are times when he seems… forgetful. For example, he’s always had a good memory for names - men and dragons - but there are times now he struggles with them.’

‘I’ve not noticed.’ She’d been to Ista for several visits over the winter.

‘You probably wouldn’t. It’s quite subtle. I’m just… worried.’

‘He’s getting older,’ Zalna offered.

‘Not as old as I am. Nowhere near as old as E’sel and he had a memory like a harper.’

‘Then maybe it’s just that he’s relaxed here. That he doesn’t need to burden himself any more with all of those little details.’

‘Maybe,’ Morna said. ‘Let’s hope so.’

Zalna didn’t think of it again for a while, busy as she was with planning for the repopulation of the Weyrs. T’san was spending an increasing amount of time with his Wing, getting them ready for the Spring Games, as were the other Wingleaders. She found herself spending long hours in the archives with Cassaru, looking up records on clutch sizes and frequency from the previous Intervals. Cassaru proved helpful as she had the sort of mind able to easily think through complex calculations and together they came up with figures showing how many dragons might be hatched from varying numbers of queen dragons. If both Gemalth and Terirth laid a golden egg within the next ten Turns, they would be off to a good start. Cassaru also found some old records suggesting that queens were more likely to lay a gold egg when there were less of them living in the same Weyr, which made perfect sense when you thought about it.

It was late in the second month she visited Ista again, eager to share her new information with Morna. It was early morning when she arrived; the coolest part of the day. It felt much the same as a pleasant summer afternoon at Benden.

Morna was just outside the Senior Queen’s Weyr, working on her embroidery. Her fingers seemed to have regained quite a lot of their dexterity. They settled down with cups of klah and Zalna unpacked the hides she’d brought, ready to explain all of the figures. ‘How’s N’rax?’ she asked, before beginning.

Morna gave a little shake of her head. ‘Well…’

Not good news, then.

‘I had Nonath bespeak Bidralth. Even he’s concerned.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, he says N’rax doesn’t think in quite the same way any more.’

A dragon would know something like that, of course.

‘He compared it to flying through cloud. Sometimes it clears and you can see a long way, then it closes in again.’

‘Has he seen a healer?’

‘He wouldn’t at first. Typical man. But I nagged him for long enough until he did. That was when he admitted he’s been getting headaches and sometimes his vision’s blurred. They gave him something to take for the pain, but other than that, there’s not much we can do.’

‘I am sorry,’ Zalna said, putting a hand on the older woman’s arm. ‘Maybe it will go away on its own?’

Morna shook her head sadly. ‘There are records at the Healer Hall about conditions like this. Sometimes it just happens naturally in old age, but the symptoms may also be caused in younger folk when there’s… when someone gets a growth inside their brain.’

Zalna found the idea horrific. Like Thread burrowing unseen. ‘So, what will happen?’ she asked, even though she didn’t really want to know.

‘Well, the headaches may become worse. He might find it hard to balance, to walk. He might lose more of his memory. It’s hard to predict, they said. If we’re lucky, it may grow very slowly. It might be Turns…’ she trailed off, not needing to add the rest.

‘Does he know?’

Morna nodded. ‘Of course. How could he not.’

‘And how’s he taking it?’

‘Just carrying on with life. Not much else he can do, under the circumstances.’ She quickly wiped away a tear. ‘Right, then. What do you have here?’

They spent a couple of hours talking through all of the possibilities. The sun climbed higher, until the shadows took on the hard edges of midday and the Bowl began to shimmer in a heat haze.

Around lunchtime, Bidralth and N’rax returned to the Weyr. He was shirtless and tanned, looking in perfect health. It was hard to imagine anything was wrong with him at all. ‘Nonath mentioned to Bidralth you were here. I thought I’d come back to say hello and get a bite to eat. We’ve been swimming for most of the morning.’

‘Shall I order something, or do you want to go to the dining hall?’ Morna asked.

‘Might as well eat here.’ He glanced at the unrolled hides. ‘What’s all this?’

‘I can explain, if you want.’ And so she did, as they ate and sipped at chilled fruit juice.

It was when Morna went inside to use the necessary that he turned to Zalna. ‘You know, I expect.’

‘Morna told me when I arrived.’

‘Well, I suppose I’ve been lucky to escape Thread all those Turns. Something was bound to get me, in the end.’

He seemed very relaxed about it. ‘It still doesn’t seem fair,’ she said.

‘Well, we can’t do anything about that. But I’d like to have a word with you, before you go back to Benden. I don’t want Morna to worry herself any more than she is already, but I’ll have Bidralth pass on some coordinates to Gemalth and you can meet me later. There are some things you need to know.’ He glanced back toward the mouth of the weyr as Morna reappeared.

Zalna gave a quick nod of acknowledgement, feeling like a conspirator.

She took her leave half way through the afternoon, being mindful of the time difference between Ista and Benden Weyrs.

We need to go to the place Bidralth showed you, she told Gemalth as they ascended above the Bowl.

This one? Her dragon sent her an image of a small cove, with high cliffs and a sandy beach.

If that is where Bidralth is now, then yes.

After a brief exchange between the dragons, Gemalth confirmed the destination and, holding the image in her mind, they went between.

There were a few dragons in the sea, a few riders sitting on the rocks, fishing and one or two taking advantage of the shady overhang of the cliffs further up the beach. Gemalth had been swimming earlier, so was content to sunbathe. Zalna wondered if all the sun might set her to rising again, even though it had only been a Turn since her last mating flight. With all the plans they had, it would be no bad thing if she did. Yet she also knew how unlikely that was, now they were well into the Interval.

Taking off her wherhide gear yet again - she’d put it on as Morna had assumed she was going straight back to Benden and no one would fly back there in winter without some protection - she found N’rax sitting with a couple of other riders, playing dragon poker. None of them were wearing any clothes. Back when she’d first Impressed she’d have found it strange, but she’d been a weyrwoman for long enough now not to be shocked. The only slightly unsettling thing was seeing the long-healed scars of Threadscores on their bodies and the shiny stump of W’brel’s left leg, just above where his knee would have been.

‘Fancy joining us for a hand, Weyrwoman?’ the blue rider asked.

‘No. I’d lose all my marks, knowing you.’

‘Zalna and I need to discuss something.’ The former Benden Weyrleader put his cards down. ‘I’ll join you again later.’

They walked across the sand until they were out of earshot, but still in the shelter of the cliff.

‘I don’t like this,’ she said, right away. ‘It feels as if we’re sneaking around behind Morna’s back.’

‘I understand, he said. ‘But I have to tell someone and I know T’san will be busy with organising the Spring Games right now.’

‘Can’t it wait until afterwards?’ As soon as she spoke, she wished she hadn’t.

He gave a brief smile. ‘I don’t want to take that risk. Morna’s not the only one to ask questions of the Healer Hall. And she’s not living in here,’ he gestured toward his head. ‘So she has a limited understanding. Bidralth knows, of course. I can’t hide anything from him.’

‘She said it might be Turns…’ Zalna spoke quietly, even though no one was close enough to hear.

‘It might be. It might not. This time last Turn I had no symptoms at all. Since they started, they’ve become steadily worse. The headaches are more frequent, as are the times when I can’t recall what I’ve said or done in the last hour or so. Dizziness too, although that’s less of a worry.’

It must be frightening for him. ‘So, what did you want to talk to me about?’

‘I’m coping right now, covering up. It’s not as if I’m running a Weyr any more, or trying to plan a Fall. But I’m scared. You see, Zalna, I know things. And I’m afraid that during those times I can’t recall - which the healers said would become more frequent - I might give something away. Something that has to be kept secret for the sake of Pern’s survival.’

There was only one thing it could be. ‘It’s about the Disappearance, isn’t it?’

He nodded quickly. ‘I know what happened and where they went. I’ve kept it locked away all these Turns, even when I longed to tell someone. I know I could trust Morna, or you, or T’san. But that would be burdening you all. No. When I die, the secret dies with me.’

‘So. What did you want to tell me?’ She was slightly confused.

‘To look after Morna, when I’m gone. We’ve been together a good few Turns and she’ll find it hard…’

‘No!’ She suddenly realised what he meant. ‘You can’t.’

‘I have to, before it goes too far. While I’m still able.’

Zalna felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. ‘It’s not fair,’ she said.

‘I’ve cheated Thread and seen the end of the Pass. I’ve had a good life. It’s more than some did. Weyrlings, just started on delivery duties, wiped out. Young riders and dragons, gone…’ he shook his head. ‘I’d like to have had a few more Turns of this.’ He swept an arm toward the crystal clear sea. ‘But that’s not to be. So, remember what I’ve told you and be there for her when she needs you. You’ve been through it yourself. You’ll know what to say.’

Zalna looked at him again, remembering all the help he and Morna had given her, when she came to Benden with the wounds of K’torl’s death still raw in her heart. ‘I’ll do what I can.’

‘You’re a fine Weyrwoman.’

She had a sudden thought. ‘When…?’

‘I don’t know myself. I just need to be ready. I’ll make sure Gemalth knows.’ He patted her on the shoulder. ‘There, now. Don’t be sad. It comes to us all, in the end.’

It came on a morning, just three sevendays later. Zalna was mending one of Gemalth’s straps, wondering if she should buy some fancy leather at the next Gather to make one of those decorative sets that were becoming all the rage these days.

Bidralth has gone, Gemalth announced, before raising her head and keening, setting off all of the other dragons in the Weyr. It went down to your bones, grated on every nerve. She’d heard it often enough during the Pass, far less frequently since. She dropped what she was doing as a sudden wave of weakness overcame her, then pulled herself together and started to put on her riding leathers.

T’san burst in. ‘What’s happened? Huylonth said something about Bidralth…’

‘He’s gone,’ she said, biting her lip. She couldn’t afford the luxury of tears. Morna must already know. ‘We need to get to Ista. We need to get there… before.’

They’d both read the same records. He knew what she meant. ‘Then no need to hurry too much. I’ll ask their watch dragon for specifics.’

They burst out of between over an early morning Ista. People were finishing a leisurely breakfast outside the dining hall and looked up, somewhat surprised to see the Weyrwoman and Weyrleader of Benden arriving, especially as they hurriedly dismounted and ran up the steps to Morna’s weyr. Just as they reached the entrance, Nonath lurched up from a contented slumber and keened, joined a moment later by all the other dragons in the Weyr. For the second time that morning, the sound throbbed through Zalna’s skull. Then she reached Morna, pulling the older woman into a fierce hug. ‘It’s all right. We know what’s happened. We’re here for you.’