To the Weyr - 27. Visiting the Eggs

All the candidates had arrived, making a total of forty one. They tended to stay in their Hold groups, or banded together by region. Benden’s area was both wide at the northern end and long on a north-south axis. Most of the lads who came from Seaholds, or those close to the coast, were used to a milder climate than at the Weyr and complained how chilly it was in the tunnels and sleeping room. Jevikel enjoyed the cool, especially after a day working in the laundry. He supposed the others would get used to it.

‘In winter, they open up the vents to bring heated air in,’ Lukodan told them, by way of reassurance. ‘As it is now, you can always sit outside to get warm.’

‘Or go and huddle next to the hearth with the old uncles and aunties,’ Nursheldor added. He often made snide comments to the Holdbred lads. Maybe he saw them as a threat; an additional obstacle between him and his dragon?

The teaching room was cool, too. D’gar usually held training outdoors, as he too didn’t seem to like it. Looking at the map of Pern mounted on the wall next to the board, Jevikel understood why. Fort Weyr was almost as far south as Half Circle Sea Hold.

One afternoon, they were sitting on the benches outside while Kadin sang one of the many ballads concerned with dragon care. Jevikel was so engrossed watching him - Kadin seemed to go off into a world of his own whenever he played - that he didn’t notice someone else listening besides all the candidates. It was only when Kadin played the last chords and the man clapped Jevikel even realised he was there.

‘Bravo,’ called the newcomer, strolling over toward D’gar. ‘You have a talented player there.’

‘One of our candidates. Welcome to the Weyr, Harper.’

‘Sheltegan,’ he said, ‘Journeyman Harper, newly assigned to Benden Weyr. I thought I’d come over and introduce myself. All of the teaching rooms are in here, so I’m told.’

‘That’s right, although I find them a little chilly. Hence holding lessons outside if it’s not raining.’

Sheltegan laughed. Even that had a musical sound. ‘Ah, a fellow southerner?’

‘I recently transferred from Fort Weyr. Grew up there, too.’

‘I spent two Turns in High Reaches Hold before this.’ He shivered dramatically. ‘Thought my fingers would drop off at times, not to mention other parts.’

Everyone chuckled at that. The Harper smiled. ‘So these are the candidates for Ramoth’s next clutch?’

‘Yes. All here now. We have a good mix of Weyrbred and Searched lads.’

‘Excellent. Well, carry on with what you were doing. I’ll just sit here at the back. I’ve still much to learn about dragons myself.’

Kadin looked a little nervous. Jevikel gave him a quick smile of reassurance as he played the ballad through one more time, after which D’gar questioned them on the meaning of the lines. It seemed to be his usual training method, although generally it was reinforced by a practical session. As they didn’t have dragons yet, Jevikel wasn’t sure how it would work, but it turned out D’gar had thought of that.

‘Now that you know the theory of cleaning and oiling dragons, I’m sure you’d love to practice what you’ve learned, especially on such a warm afternoon. There are a few dragons from my old Wing who just love a bath and a good oiling, so I’ve asked them to come over.’ As he spoke, four dragons dropped from their weyr ledges and glided across the Bowl. As they came closer, Jevikel recognised Toth and Zurinth. There was a blue, too, ridden by an older man, plus a bronze.

After they landed and the riders slid down, D’gar introduced them. ‘My former Wingleader, R’feem of bronze Piroth. You’ll already know M’rell and Toth from our flying session a few sevendays ago. The blue pair are M’ta and Zath, and finally we have green Zurinth and J’rud.

J’rud used a stick now and moved almost as quickly as if he had two good legs. ‘Zurinth has really been looking forward to this.’ He undid the neck strap and she gave herself a good shake. ‘She says she has itchy neck ridges.’

‘Right, then. The brushes are in the niche next to the bathing rooms. If a couple of you want to go and fetch them, plus the oil pots, we’ll start. I’ll be joining in, as Herebeth needs a bath, too.’

Jevikel volunteered, along with Lukodan and Taltien. By the time they emerged from the barracks, Sheltegan was chatting with Kadin and the four dragons had made their way into the lake. Herebeth plunged down, diving into the deeper water before swimming over to join his wingmates, who were splashing each other with enthusiasm.

Anticipating that some of the candidates might gravitate toward the smaller dragons, D’gar made sure they were equally divided between the four. Jevikel made his way towards Piroth, having left his clothes in a neat pile on the beach. R’feem, the Wingleader was already waist deep in the lake, holding a brush. ‘I suggest you start at his head and work backwards. Piroth will let me know if he has any particularly itchy bits. And don’t worry about hurting him. Dragon hide is tough.’

The lake water wasn’t overly warm, causing a few yelps, particularly from the southerners. But scrubbing a dragon was hard work and Jevikel soon warmed up. Piroth seemed to enjoy being washed by so many people and willingly dropped his neck down to allow them to scrub his neck ridges.

‘Do you normally do this on your own?’ Jevikel asked R’feem.

‘Mostly. But he only needs scrubbing like this every now and then. Swimming washes off most of the loose dust and char. This is a spring clean, if you like.’

Jevikel was particularly careful when he came across scars on Piroth’s left flank, assuming they’d be more sensitive. Once they’d done his upper body, the dragon waded out of the water so that his legs and feet could be cared for. R’feem showed them how ingrained dirt became stuck between the talons. ‘That area always needs cleaning out. He picks at them with his teeth, but he can’t clear everything.’

Jevikel looked at the talons as he used a smaller brush. They were slightly curved and very sharp. If hatchlings had the same equipment, no wonder folk could easily be injured. He imagined how it would feel if one of those went into his bare foot. Not pleasant by any means. And if you fell over and a dragonet accidentally walked over you, the resulting wounds would be deep.

Piroth spread his toes to allow easy access. There was char in the grooves between them, plus the usual Weyr dust and something brownish in colour which Jevikel realised must be dried blood from the herdbeasts he’d killed and eaten. He carefully brushed it all away, swilling some water over the huge foot to rise it off. Piroth turned slightly, his eye swirling with a mix of green and blue colours.

‘He likes that,’ R’feem commented. ‘He says thank you.’

‘A pleasure, Piroth.’ Jevikel spoke directly to the dragon. Now that he’d spent time around them it was so obvious they were sentient and intelligent creatures.

’So, have you settled in after your dramatic arrival?’

Jevikel groaned. ‘I didn’t know everyone had heard about that.’ R’feem hadn’t even been at Benden when it happened.

‘Blame T’rai and his ballad. But it’s calmed down now. Most folk are talking about the epic volcano fight these days.’ He glanced over to D’gar, who was sitting on Herebeth’s back scrubbing away. ‘After the Hatching, that’ll be the favoured topic until something else newsworthy comes along. Weyrfolk love to gossip, as you may have noticed.’

Jevikel nodded.

‘You get on all right with D’gar?’

‘I was scared of him at first. Then after the volcano incident, even more so, until I found out the whole story. He’s a good teacher.’

‘I thought he might be. He was an efficient Wingleader, too. A real pity he didn’t Impress a bronze. He could have gone a long way if he had.’

Jevikel wondered what exactly he meant by that. D’gar had been a Wingsecond and Wingleader and now was Weyrlingmaster. How much higher could you climb? ‘You mean Weyrleader?’

‘Hmm,’ R’feem agreed. ‘If he’d wanted it, that is. I know it’s seen as the ultimate ambition of all bronze riders, but that’s not always the case.’

He was easy to talk to and seemed far less stuffy than most of the Benden Wingleaders. Jevikel didn’t feel awkward about asking him questions. ‘How about you. Did you ever want that?’

R’feem sighed. ‘When I was young, perhaps. But it’s a difficult job. Lots of political wrangling. Being Wingleader’s enough for me. I always take Piroth out of the Weyr when our senior queen’s due to rise. There are enough junior queens if he fancies a gold flight. He’s sired a few clutches over the Turns. But he’s as happy chasing greens if that’s all there is when he gets the urge.’

Jevikel carried on cleaning between the toes of Piroth’s other front foot.

‘Have you had any thoughts as to what colour you’d like to Impress?’ R’feem asked.

‘To be honest, I’ll be happy if any dragon picks me.’

‘Don’t be upset if you don’t Impress first time. It took me three tries. The right dragon will find you, when it’s time. Now, when you’ve finished that foot, we’ll let him dry in the sun before we start oiling.’

It took most of the afternoon to finish off. All of the dragons gleamed in their own way, although Piroth’s hide reflected the sun so brightly it was sometimes necessary to shield his eyes. Kadin had been one of those working on Toth and rejoined him as they gave the brushes a rinse and carried all of the equipment back inside.

‘That was hard work. I enjoyed it, though and Toth was great. He made funny faces when we were scrubbing his itchy parts. M’rell was chatty, too.’

‘So was R’feem. He’s nothing like I thought a Wingleader would be.’

‘That’s probably why none of the riders want to be in any other Wing. They’re worried that when they have to return to Fort, they might be split up.’

‘Oh?’

‘Yes, M’rell said it happened a few times before they came forwards. So at the moment, they’re glad to be here and together.’

Back inside, D’gar gathered them all in a group. ‘That should have given you all a good idea what you’ll be doing much of the time after the eggs hatch. Yes, the hatchlings are far smaller at first, but that doesn’t last for long. They get pretty grubby, too, having to walk everywhere until their wings are strong enough to fly. And fast growth means lots of oiling, to avoid patchy hide. You know why we need to prevent that.’

Kadin’s hand shot up. ‘Because patchy hide can crack between.’

‘Exactly. Well done, everyone. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning before breakfast, when we’ll be going for a run and practising throwing and catching.’

As the candidates trailed out, D’gar disappeared inside the Weyrlingmaster’s quarters. Herebeth had already flown back to the heights with a couple of other dragons from R’feem’s Wing. Did they gossip, too?

His thoughts were interrupted as he and Kadin were jostled by a couple of the new candidates from Lemos Hold. ‘Bet you enjoyed that lesson.’ This was said in a sneering tone. ‘Chance for you both to eye everyone up.’

The speaker, whose name Jevikel couldn't remember yet, was a tall lad, who hadn’t hesitated to tell everyone he was the son of a Holder when he first arrived. Jevikel hadn’t revealed that he was as well. Outside rank didn’t matter at the Weyr.

Kadin broke in before he had a chance to think up a witty retort. ‘It’s not like you’ve got much to boast about where it counts.’

He tried to grab Kadin. One of his friends stopped him. ‘Not here, Hortaimin. The rule’s no fighting in the Weyr, remember.’

Hortaimin shook his head angrily. ‘I’m watching you two,’ he said, in a threatening tone.

‘That’s nice to know,’ Kadin said. ‘Maybe you like looking at boys, hey?’

The friends pulled him away before he could cause any more trouble.

‘Sharding Holdbred idiots,’ Kadin said, when they had got a little way ahead. ‘I almost hope he gets sent home.’

‘Does that even happen? I thought they needed every candidate they can get?’

‘Lukodan said someone was a few Turns ago. He said he probably wouldn’t have Impressed anyway.’

Hortaimin was the sort who would be insufferable if he Impressed a bronze, like L’cal and his cronies. Jevikel hoped fervently that he didn’t, although he bet he’d be determined to get one. Although they’d been told many times by different people that the dragon decided and the candidates had no influence in the matter, he wasn’t so sure. Maybe D’gar hadn’t thought himself good enough for a bronze? And Kadin was so certain he’d end up with a green, his thoughts would be extra welcoming whenever a dragon of that colour Hatched. ‘You were having a long chat with the Harper,’ he said, changing the subject. He didn’t really want to think about Hortaimin and his ilk.

‘He wanted to know who’d taught me, how many instruments I can play and things like that. I think he’s hoping I might be able to help with teaching the young ones. I told him there are quite a few good musicians in the Weyr who might like to get involved, too.’

‘Sounds interesting.’

‘He said Lessa and F’lar want to get more people working together rather than just concentrating on their own specialties. The MasterHarper agrees, apparently.’

That was a good idea. Maybe they could do something about educating people in secluded Holds such as Pinnacle? Jevikel envisioned a travelling Harper being conveyed on dragon back to give lessons at such places. It would certainly be better than the bits and pieces he’d learned from Granny Val. ‘Make sure no one ends up ignorant about the Weyr, like I was.’

‘Or not able to read or write.’ Kadin’s enthusiasm bubbled over. ‘I reckon a lot of things are going to change over the next couple of Turns.’

The following morning, they jogged over to the barracks, lightly dressed. It was chilly first thing and mist rose from the surface of the lake. Over on the farther shore, the herdbeasts lowed softly as they anticipated their breakfast. Herebeth sat up looking in that direction as if he hoped one of them might become his breakfast. D’gar waited beside him.

Firstly D’gar led them through some stretching and warm-up exercises, then they began to make a circuit of the lake. Jevikel’s ankle coped well, as the path was smooth and well trodden and his boots provided good support. It was only when going across rocky or uneven ground he still needed to be careful. Before the next circuit, D’gar formed them into two groups and handed out leather balls. As they ran, they had to throw and catch the balls. Quite a few were dropped on the way round; the candidate who’d missed the catch having to fetch it back. It wasn’t as easy as it looked, particularly when they began to get tired. Jevikel wasn’t as out of breath at the end as he would have been a few sevendays ago and he was pleased he hadn’t dropped a ball once, even though there’d been a few close calls.

‘Well done, lads,’ said D’gar at the end of it. ‘Now, go off and get a bath and breakfast, then after that, come back here. We’ve a special lesson this morning.’

‘It’s the eggs,’ Lukodan said, as they splashed around in blissfully warm water. ‘I bet he’s going to take us to see the eggs.’

‘I hope so.’ Egevan tried to force Kernam’s head under the water. Kernam fought back and ended up ducking Egevan.

‘About time.’ Nursheldor was as gruff as ever. ‘They’ll be hatching soon enough.’

‘Another three sevendays, by my reckoning,’ said Lukodan. ‘Time enough for a couple of visits before the big day.’

Everyone rushed through breakfast. Jevikel finished his last meat roll on the way over. He felt glad he’d seen the Hatching grounds previously. The Searched candidates hadn’t had the opportunity, so this would be their first visit.

D’gar was outside, leaning against Herebeth. He smiled slightly as he watched them all rushing over. Once everyone had assembled, he spoke. ‘I see rumours must already have been doing the rounds. Yes, we’ll be visiting the eggs this morning, I’m glad to confirm.’

There were a few cheers.

‘Before we go, there are a few rules I have to tell you. Ramoth is very protective of her eggs. Lessa has told me that if she becomes uneasy at all, we will have to leave right away. Here’s how we can try to stop that happening. Everyone needs to be quiet. You can talk all you like afterwards, but inside the Hatching Ground, I don’t want to hear even a whisper. We’ll be crossing the Sands, but Lessa will be the one to judge how close we can get. No one - and I repeat no one - is to attempt to touch any egg. Got that?’

Jevikel nodded along with the rest. It sounded like common sense to him.

‘Right. Let’s go.’ He led the way along the path to the lower entrance of the Hatching Grounds. It seemed his lecture had achieved the desired effect, as everyone was very quiet as they walked. Kadin slipped his hand into Jevikel’s.

As soon as they stepped inside, a wash of heat met them. It was far warmer than the day they’d seen Ramoth lay the eggs. As they climbed the incline leading to the Sands he felt it, even through his boots. Maybe he should try to get his feet hardened up again before they had to stand out there in bare feet? This summer, he’d worn boots almost all the time, whereas at Pinnacle he’d have been barefoot to save wear and tear on the leather.

The vast cavern opened out before them. Ramoth lay, guarding her clutch, which she’d arranged in a sweeping arc. Daylight spilled in from the high openings around the chamber, making patterns of light and shadow. Ramoth gleamed as bright as the golden sands. She watched them carefully, her glance as much of a warning than anything D’gar had said.

The eggs looked very different to when they’d been laid. It was obvious, even from a distance, that their shells were no longer soft. As they’d hardened, they’d developed patterns in a variety of different colours. Some were larger than others. A heat haze shimmered around them.

Lessa walked over from where she’d been seated on a chair placed above the level of the sands. She wore a loose, lightweight dress and fanned herself against the heat. She leaned close to D’gar, speaking softly, then side by side, they led the procession towards the eggs, halting around a dragons length from the first of them. This close, it was much easier to make out details. There were several eggs which were marked with swirls in a variety of colours and one with orange splashes all over its surface. One of the smaller eggs had brownish patterns that looked like the map of a coastline, while another was almost stripy. It would certainly make them easier to identify on the day, although he’d been told enough times the colour of a shell had no bearing on the colour of the hatchling inside. Which one of them held his dragon? Did any of them?

They spent a few minutes looking at the eggs. Some of the lads pointed to one or another, although they kept quiet as they’d been told. Eventually Ramoth stirred, flicking out her long tongue. Lessa gestured for everyone to move back. The golden dragon came closer, although she didn’t seem disturbed by their presence. Reaching one of the stripy eggs, she carefully moved it with her forelegs, recorrecting the position several times until it was as she wanted. Then she moved on to another egg and turned it a slightly different way. Lessa gestured for them all to move again as Ramoth progressed along the curve of eggs, ignoring some, while fussing over others. It was a fascinating process. Jevikel wanted to ask lots of questions, but they’d have to wait until he was outside again.

After Ramoth had settled back in her former position, Lessa spoke quietly to D’gar and he signalled for them to follow him out. Although it was a relief to be in the cool air again, Jevikel felt he could have watched Ramoth tending her eggs for much longer in the vast quietness of the Hatching Ground.

As soon as they were clear of the entrance, D’gar got them to gather round. ‘You can talk now,’ he said.

Jevikel blurted out his query at once. ‘Why was Ramoth doing that to the eggs?’

‘Good question. I was told the reason by another weyrwoman once, when I went to visit her dragon’s clutch. Although the hatchlings aren’t fully mature, they can communicate with their mother. As they grow inside the egg, sometimes they become uncomfortable, or stuck in one position. The queen dragon responds to this by moving the egg until they feel all right again.’

Jevikel nodded. He knew that babies, whether human or herdbeast, moved as they grew. Trapped inside a hard eggshell, the hatchlings wouldn’t have so many options. It made sense that their mother did the moving they couldn’t.

‘Why did she only move some of then?’ Wybrald asked. He seemed to have settled into the Weyr slightly better than his fellow from Greystones, Illithal.

‘Same reason. She only turned the ones who needed it right then. She’ll tend them several times during a day. Some hatchlings ask to be moved more often than others.’

‘Is that because they’re bigger?’ Nursheldor asked.

It was obvious what he was thinking. Bigger hatchlings were more likely to be bronze or brown.

‘It might be,’ D’gar said. ‘Or, like people, some might be fidgety, whereas others don’t mind staying still for longer periods of time.’

‘Prideth did the same,’ Tollel said. ‘She rolled them around quite a lot.’

‘That’ll be because they don’t have heated Sands like we do in the northern Weyrs,’ D’gar said. ‘It’s so hot down south, they don’t really need to. But it means the queen needs to make sure they all get the same amount of heat.’

‘Is it going to be as hot as that on Hatching Day?’ One of the Benden lads - Perrigan, Jevikel thought - asked.

‘It might be hotter. But you won’t really be thinking about it. Hatchings can take a couple of hours from start to finish, but everyone who’s stood on the Sands remembers it as passing in a flash. I’ll warn you your feet will get hot. It’s traditional for candidates to be barefoot, for those of you who didn’t already know that. I’ll be covering the Hatching procedure in detail before we visit the eggs again, don’t worry.’

A few more questions followed, then as they made their way back across to the barracks, talk bubbled up, particularly from the Holdbred candidates, who were even more awed by their first visit to the Hatching Ground than those who had been there before.

Later that day, out of D’gar’s hearing, some of the Weyrbred lads began to tell the newcomers about the gruesome ‘Bloody Hatching’.

‘Ramoth cracked open her egg and tried to get to the girls.’ Lukodan said. ‘They were all screaming and running away.’

‘Except Lessa,’ Buko added. ‘She was brave.’

‘Then Ramoth got hold of one girl who was in her way and shook her so hard her neck snapped. You could hear it, right in the stands. The she ripped open this other girl all down one side. There was blood everywhere. But Lessa just stepped forward and grabbed at her head and they Impressed.’

‘K’nas - well, he was Kurnas then - he got knocked over and Yoth trampled all over him.’ Tollel looked thoughtful. ‘You should see his scars. And poor Jassod died, right there on the Sands.’

Jevikel watched the faces of the other candidates. He didn’t like the fear he saw there. ‘You said yourself it doesn’t happen like that every time, Lukodan. When Ramoth’s first clutch Hatched, no one got hurt at all.’

‘Maybe that was the exception,’ Ullanton mumbled. ‘People always get injured at Hatchings. It’s inevitable.’

‘It’s traditional,’ Nursheldor added. ‘That’s why they always have more candidates than eggs. Some don’t make it.’

‘I thought D’gar said that was to give the hatchlings plenty of choice.’ Jevikel countered. He didn’t mind a bit of teasing, but there was need to scare folk too much.

‘Well, yes…’ Lukodan admitted. ‘But Hatchings are dangerous. That’s why the Teaching Ballad says you have to be brave.’

‘How do you make sure you Impress?’ asked Hortaimin. ‘My father will be there. He expects me to get a brown at least.’

‘Stand close to the egg you’ve decided on,’ Jurrendon advised. ‘Don’t go running about all over the place as others crack. Stand your ground. That’s what my dad says and he Impressed first time.’

Ullanton nodded in agreement. ‘And don’t jump in front of a hatchling because you like the colour. Step aside if they’re after someone else. Otherwise, you will get hurt.’