To the Weyr - 8. Dragonriders

A sevenday passed. The lazy pace of the mountains was long forgotten. Each day, Jevikel worked on the reconstruction of the main barn. Vikkel had decided - rightly, Jevikel thought - that it deserved priority. Harvest would begin soon, and there needed to be a dry, secure place to store the fodder and produce that would see them through the winter. He was less happy Vikkel had decided that due to the number of damaged slates, the barn would be best served by having a thatched reed roof, as had previously been planned for the new one. He didn’t say anything, though. Vikkel was not in the best of moods. It wasn’t totally surprising. The shake had disrupted the usual routine at the Hold. Several workers, as well as Jemina, had been injured to the extent of only being able to perform light tasks. This meant any issue of Jevikel, Kadin or any of the other lads around their age not being strong enough to do a man’s work was cast aside. They had two good hands, which was sufficient for the job. As cheese production had also been disrupted - the rockfall had sealed off two of the storage caves - some of the women had also been sent to work on construction.

There was doubt about whether the young herdbeasts would be driven to market at the end of the summer. It would mean taking several folk away from the rebuilding project, slowing the progress. No one knew exactly when the weather would turn and by the time it did, both barns and the Outer Hold needed to be finished.

‘There’s talk of the Hold being thatched too.’ Jevikel dunked bread in the thin stew that had become a staple meal. He’d overheard his father and Tallis talking about it earlier. Kadin caught his eye and grimaced.

They sat beside a pile of stones that had once been a wall. Jevikel didn’t hurry his meal. Eating slowly fooled the belly into thinking it was full, for a time, anyway. Once he started work again, he’d soon feel the pinch of hunger.

‘Why should that matter?’ Berrand said, between mouthfuls. ‘So long as we’re warm and dry once winter comes…’

Kadin spoke up. ‘All of the Teaching Ballads say dwellings for man and beast should be made of stone.’

‘So? The walls will be.’

‘But if Thread…’

‘Thread’s not coming back,’ Lengiorl scoffed. ‘Everyone knows that. We’ve more to fear from weather.’

‘I’m not so sure.’ Jevikel wondered if younger minds could be swayed. ‘That earth shake wasn’t normal. And events like that are said to be one of the signs a Pass will begin.’

‘Weather, too,’ Kadin added. ‘Hasn’t everyone been saying how this summer was unusually hot and dry?’

‘Then there’s the Red Star. We can see that for ourselves every morning, growing larger in the sky.’ Jevikel spooned up the last of the broth in his bowl.

‘Don’t think your da would take too kindly to you being a doomsayer.’ Lengiorl sniffed. ‘Where’s the proof?’

That sounded just like something Vikkel would say. ‘Our ancestors were wise. The reason why they made those ballads was so that folk wouldn’t forget what they needed to do. Now, let’s suppose I’m wrong. You can all laugh at me when nothing happens. But if I’m not, you won’t be here to laugh. Nor will I, for that matter…’

Kadin was about to say something else when a shadow swept across the sun. Everyone looked up. Two dragons flew low in the sky. It was the closest Jevikel had seen them save for that day in the hills. Unlike that time, these didn’t continue in a straight line until they were out of sight, but made a wide circle around, descending slowly. Jevikel had time to fully appreciate them before they landed. The smaller of the two was blue; darker along the wings and upper body, shading to the pale colour of a winter sky on his legs and belly. The other dragon was a rich, deep brown, with a huge wingspan. The men riding the dragons were dwarfed by the size of their beasts. Jevikel wondered how they controlled them, since they didn’t have anything like the bridles and reins he’d seen on runnerbeasts. The only straps on these dragons seemed to be there principally to secure their riders.

Once on the ground, the dragons folded their wings neatly at their sides. Their multi-faceted eyes whirled in a myriad of colours as they turned their huge heads to look around. Vikkel walked towards them, while others held back through natural caution.

‘What’re they here for?’ Berrand voiced what everyone must be thinking. With everyone working outside, there had been no opportunity to hide the young folk. Perhaps that was why they had landed?

‘I’m going over to see.’ Kadin stood. ‘I’ve never had a chance to look at a dragon close up.’

‘This is close enough for me,’ Lengiorl said. ‘You wanna be careful or they’ll take you off to that Weyr.’

Kadin shrugged. ‘And what’s so bad about that?’ He glanced at Jevikel.

Jevikel got to his feet. ‘All that stuff about them eating people is rubbish. I’m not scared.’ In truth, he was, a little bit. They were far larger than he’d imagined, having only seen them in the air before. But he also found them fascinating.

By the time they’d got closer, the men had dismounted and stood to one side with Vikkel and Tallis. One of the dragonriders was as tall as his father, but both carried themselves with a kind of confidence that made them seem unlike ordinary folk. Riding a beast that size must be a part of it, he reckoned. They wore heavy leather gear which bulked them out, but just from their faces he could see they ate far better than anyone at Pinnacle.

‘… yes, the earth shook here. As you can see.’ Vikkel gestured around at the debris.

So that was it. Evidently news of the shake had travelled as far as the Weyr. Jevikel’s heart leapt. If Kemi had made it all the way, maybe she’d been the one to tell them.

The rider of the brown dragon must have noticed the pile of rushes that had been delivered just two days ago. ‘I hope you won’t be using those to reconstruct your buildings.’

Vikkel bristled. ‘My main concern is getting our harvest under cover and putting a roof over my family and worker’s heads. What’s it to you the materials we use to do it?’

‘It’s our concern if you or your folk here got hurt through it. You’ve heard of Thread, I take it?’

‘Thread!’ Vikkel snorted. ‘Old wives' tales.’

Tallis nodded in agreement.

‘There is every sign that a Pass will begin soon.’ The dragonrider’s voice stayed level and calm. ‘We’ll know for certain this midwinter, but what you’ve just experienced here is one of the indicators. You may not have heard, but there have been unusually high tides in coastal areas. Floods where there’ve never been any before. Ista’s smoking mountain has reappeared from under the waves.’

‘Ista’s a long way from here. So’s the coast,’ Vikkel countered. ‘Give me some real proof and I might believe you.’

‘I’m afraid by the time the real proof arrives, it’ll be too late. Our Wingleader has sent us out to the smaller Holds to make sure everyone is prepared. I would be failing in my duty if I didn’t give you fair warning of what’s to come.’

While they talked the blue dragon had been looking around. Jevikel felt its eyes rest on him for a moment. It was almost as if it saw right through him, laying all his secrets bare. Beside him, Kadin shivered, and Jevikel knew he must have felt the same.

The blue dragon’s rider waited until the other had finished talking with Vikkel before saying something to him. Vikkel and Tallis walked away, back to the construction site.

The taller rider looked towards them, then beckoned them over.

Jevikel felt a stab of panic. Had he done something wrong? But he started walking nevertheless, Kadin beside him, feeling the stares of the other workers as acutely as he’d been aware of the dragon’s scrutiny. He stopped just a few paces from the men.

‘Don’t be scared,’ the rider said. ‘We’re not here today on Search, but Relth likes the look of you both. He wanted you to come closer.’

For a moment, Jevikel thought he was referring to the other rider, then the shorter man spoke. ‘I’m T’gor, Relth's rider. Relth has picked out a few likely candidates in the past and most have Impressed.’

When Relth regarded him again, it was obvious the dragon was a fully sentient and intelligent being. Meeting his gaze was nothing like looking into the eyes of a herdbeast. So close, Jevikel was very conscious of how huge the dragons were. Their hides radiated warmth and a peculiar, almost spicy scent which was somehow comforting. After a few seconds, T’gor nodded, as if he’d been talking with his dragon, even though not a sound had been made. ‘He’s certain,’ he said to the other man. ‘They’ve both got potential.’

Before he’d known Kadin, Jevikel wouldn’t have understood what this was about. Now, he could hardly believe it. He, Jevikel of Pinnacle Hold, might end up with his own dragon. Kadin too.

‘So are you saying we’re going to the Weyr?’

The two riders looked at each other. The brown rider spoke, looking a little uncomfortable. ‘As I said, we aren’t here on Search today. There are no eggs on the sands at the moment.’

‘R’gul wouldn’t be too happy about us bringing anyone back right now,’ T’gor added. ‘But everyone knows Ramoth will rise soon and then…’

‘What my wingmate is trying to tell you is that as soon as we’re certain there’s going to be a hatching, then we could return for you. If that’s what you want.’

‘Definitely,’ Kadin said.

‘Same here,’ Jevikel added. ‘Not sure how my da would feel about it, though.’ He glanced toward the barn. Vikkel was glaring at them, which wasn’t a good sign. ‘In fact, I don’t reckon he’s even happy you’re talking to us.’

‘Your father’s the Holder here?’ asked the brown rider. ‘You’re Jevikel?’

Jevikel gave a quick nod. How would the rider know his name? He didn’t think his father would have mentioned it.

‘In that case, I have something for you.’ He reached inside his jacket and pulled out a slightly grubby rolled up piece of fabric. ‘From someone close to you.'

Jevikel knew immediately what it was and what it meant. Kemi’s map. She’d made it safely. ‘Thank you,’ he said. He stuck it into his own pocket quickly, hoping no one else but Kadin had seen it. ‘I… I should get back to work.’

‘Of course,’ the brown rider said. ‘And so must we. There are many more farmholds we have to visit today. Let’s hope some will be more receptive to our message.’

‘You think Thread is coming, too?’

‘Our Wingleader is convinced of it. And, as I said to your father, all the signs point to him being right. But some folk are reluctant to believe in what they can’t see.’

‘We know,’ Kadin put in. ‘But you’ll protect them anyway, when they need it.’

The brown rider looked grim. ‘We are sworn to protect Pern, whether folk believe or not.’

It reassured Jevikel slightly. He stepped back as the pair mounted their dragons, then with a flurry of dust, they took off, circling in a wide arc to gain height before flying off toward Valley Narrows.

Almost immediately, Berrand, Lengiorl and a couple of others surrounded Jevikel and Kadin.

‘What did they say to you?’ Berrand asked, excitedly.

‘Just more about Thread. Like we were talking about earlier.’ Kadin told him.

Maybe they’d accept it more readily from dragonriders? Although his father hadn’t. ‘They’re warning all of the smaller Holds what’s in store for us.’

‘But why were they so interested in you two?’ Lengiorl looked at him as if he’d been set apart by the experience.

‘Maybe because we weren’t too scared to get near the dragons.’ Jevikel didn’t want to say anything about Search. He was certain Vikkel wouldn’t approve of it. Perhaps the reason he’d hidden youngsters away before was nothing to do with trying to protect them, but just so he wouldn’t lose potential workers. It figured.

‘If you lot had come with us, you’d have heard the same. Dragons and their riders know about Thread.’ Kadin seemed determined to make his point and looked as if he was about to say some more.

Jevikel interrupted him. ‘Don’t bother trying to convince them. They’ll see for themselves, soon enough.’ That might make them think. Sometimes, beating people over the head didn’t work. But sow a seed in their minds and it might take root and flourish.

He worked through the afternoon, dreaming of what it would be like to ride a dragon; to see Pinnacle Hold diminish to a speck beneath the outspread wings. Vikkel didn’t speak to him until they were cleaning up at the end of the day’s labour.

‘So, what did those dragonriders have to say to you?’

‘They were telling us about Thread. Maybe they thought it would scare us or something.’ It was best to stick to the same story for everyone.

‘You shouldn’t have got so close.’

Jevikel was surprised at the concern in his father’s voice. ‘I wanted to see the dragons,’ he admitted. ‘They seemed safe enough. And I didn’t get any nearer than you and Tallis when you were talking to them.

Vikkel washed dust from his arms. ‘We’re grown men, not youngsters. They could have snatched you away. Taken you to that Weyr.’ He still sounded more anxious than angry. ‘I’ve already lost one child this Turn…’

Had the idea that Kemi had died changed him so much? Jevikel wasn’t sure how to deal with this. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said at last. ‘I should have thought before I acted.’

‘You’re young. When I was your age sometimes I didn’t think either. But you need to remember your position. Your responsibilities.’

That was more like the old Vikkel. ‘Yes, father.’

‘These are hard times.’ Vikkel started to say something, then stopped.

It wasn’t easy for him to show emotions; to show he cared. Jevikel almost felt sorry for him. ‘We’ll get the Hold back to how it was,’ he said.

‘It’s not just that. Rebuilding’s hard, but some things can’t be fixed. Your mother’s being brave, but it’s likely she’s lost the use of that arm.’

‘I didn’t know.’

‘She’s hiding it from folks. It makes her feel useless.’

Jevikel had never heard his father speak like this. It made him feel guilty about his intention to leave the Hold. He was needed here, at least for the time being.

‘Still, I can always rely on you, son.’ Vikkel patted him on the back. ‘I know you’ll do me proud.’

It was another fine evening. Jevikel sat outside, thinking through all that had happened. Just a Turn ago, life had been relatively simple. He’d not been happy, exactly, but that was just how things were. Now he was conflicted. Logically, he knew staying at Pinnacle Hold wasn’t an option. Well, not unless he suppressed all of his natural feelings, married some girl chosen by his parents and settled down to raise herdbeasts until he died. If he did that, he’d lose Kadin and pass up a chance to - maybe - Impress a dragon. Yet if he went to the Weyr, he’d be letting down his family. No matter that sometimes he hated his parents, they had raised him. His father clearly cared about him on some level. So did Jemina, even though she’d rarely showed it. Whatever he did, someone would be left feeling betrayed.

‘Fancy a walk?’

It was Gatri. That was all he needed right now. ‘Sorry, no. I’m tired. I’ve got things to think about.’

She sat next to him, put a hand to his arm. ‘I’m really sorry about Kemi. To think of her, under there…’ She glanced toward the Hold.

‘I’d rather not be reminded.’ Now he felt like a fraud, lying to her. He knew Kemi was alive and well at the Weyr.

‘I understand,’ she said. ‘You need time to grieve. We’ve all had a while to get over it. It’s still new to you. But whenever you want a friend, I’ll be here.’

‘Thanks. I appreciate that.’ He did, too. Gatri was a kind girl. He hoped she’d one day find someone who’d be good to her.

She gave a sad smile and left him to his thoughts, which carried on going in circles until Kadin joined him. He’d brought his dice.

They chatted while they played. It meant Jevikel didn’t stand a chance of winning, but not many folk could beat Kadin at the game. He was from Bitra, after all.

Kadin was in high spirits. ‘This has to have been the best day of my life. Well, apart from a certain time up in the hills…’ he gave Jevikel a sly glance.

‘Hmm,’ he replied, noncommittally.

‘Don’t you feel happy? It means…’ he glanced around, but no one was close enough to hear. ‘It means we’ve definitely got a place at the Weyr, whether we Impress or not. Although that dragon was pretty certain we would.’

‘I am happy. Sort of. I mean, who wouldn’t want a chance at having their own dragon?’ He looked around at the debris of the Hold. ‘But they need us here, at least until the place is rebuilt. I can’t leave my family in the lurch like this. My father… he seems like a changed man after what’s happened.’

‘He still doesn’t believe Thread will come.’

‘No,’ Jevikel admitted. Much as he hoped his father could be persuaded otherwise, he didn’t think Vikkel would believe in Thread until it rained down overhead. But the dragons would keep them safe even if they hadn’t rebuilt according to the old teachings. ‘If we’re here, maybe we can do something.’

‘Maybe.’ Kadin sounded doubtful.

‘Then there’s your mother and sisters to consider. All the folk I’ve grown up with. I wouldn’t want to see any of them get hurt.’

‘So, are you saying you aren’t going to go?’

‘Not right away. The dragonriders said they’d come back to fetch us when the eggs are ready. I think we should stay put until then.’

Kadin threw. ‘Ha! I win.’ He gathered up the dice, then nodded. ‘It’ll certainly be a lot easier flying to the Weyr than walking it. And I get what you mean about leaving when it’s like this. It seems sort of… wrong.’

Jevikel was glad he saw things the same way.

‘We’ll have to keep, you know, hidden. Be careful all the time.’

‘I know, but it’s only for a few more months.’ How often did dragons lay eggs anyway? Perhaps it happened each spring, like herdbeasts birthing their young. ‘When we get to the Weyr it’ll be as candidates, not runaways. I can wait until then.’

‘Sure?’ Kadin gave him one of those sexy looks that reminded him of everything he’d be missing out on while they were here.

‘It’s the proper thing to do. Maybe not the easiest…’

Kadin nodded slowly. ‘You’re right. If I left mum and the girls here and anything happened to them I’d never forgive myself. And when we have dragons of our own, we can come and fetch them any time. It’s a better plan. Now, how about another game before it’s too dark?’