Gone Away, Gone Ahead - 9. The Lake Incident

D’gar woke up in the same bed as H’rek again, the only difference being that this time they were in H’rek’s weyr rather than his own. All of the young riders had overindulged the previous evening. It had been slightly unfair on them that some of his own wingmates had encouraged it and they had several more Turns hard drinking experience behind them. They’d proceeded to drink the youngsters under the table.

D’gar had been careful and had made two cups of wine last him the entire evening. The last thing he'd wanted was to have to face F’drun first thing in the morning with a hangover. H’rek had been so unsteady on his feet by the end of the evening, it would have been folly to even let him try to ride Rioth back to his weyr. Instead, they’d both flown up on Herebeth. He’d considered - briefly - leaving the lad alone but had decided that that wouldn’t be responsible. It was a good thing he’d stayed. H’rek had vomited several times before finally settling down. D’gar had stayed awake for some time before he could be sure it was safe enough to drop off himself.

He sat up and quickly put on his clothes, then had a look around the weyr. It was similar to his own, over on the opposite side of the Bowl, but H’rek had managed to make it more homely by placing some of his possessions in the various niches. There were patterned sea shells and some oddly shaped seed pods which must be from plants that only grew in the south. Bright wall hangings and a couple of thick rugs that were of superior quality than those provided by the Weyr, brought warmth and colour to the otherwise drab surroundings.

D’gar walked out to the ledge, past the sleeping dragons. Timor, a thin crescent, was just sinking below the rim of the Bowl. The outline of the watch dragon, up near the Star Stones, was a dark silhouette against the dawn sky. He wondered what time F’drun wanted them to assemble and guessed it would probably be a lot earlier than most folk were comfortable with, just to spite them. If he had any consideration, he’d have Ryth bespeak the other dragons but D’gar guessed he’d prefer to berate people for not arriving on time, even if they didn’t know exactly what time they had been supposed to be there.

Herebeth opened an eye. What are you doing up so early? It’s not Threadfall today.

We’re supposed to be doing some exercise. I don’t want F’drun to have any excuse to say I’m late, so I thought I’d beat him to it.

Does that mean I have to get up too? He gave a soft huff.

You can always come back up here after you’ve dropped me off. You and Rioth can have a laugh watching us all.

Hmm. Think I will.

In the steadily growing light (although the Weyr Bowl was still as grey as regurgitated firestone) he saw a pale bronze dragon glide past to land on the training ground beside the lake. F’drun dismounted, looked around, then leaned against his dragon’s flank while he waited. D’gar watched them for a little while, wondering if he’d unfairly misjudged the man. No, it didn’t look as if he was going to give anyone a wake-up call. Oh well, that could be easily remedied.

Herebeth. Tell the other dragons in our Wing they need to take their riders down to the training grounds. Our instructor is waiting.

It wasn’t too long before he started to get replies, relayed via Herebeth. Toth’s rider says he feels too ill to get out of bed yet. Melth thanks us and says they’ll be there shortly. Ondiath too. Lilith’s rider says you should go and do something that sounds physically impossible.

It was obvious that most of the riders had got the message and were trying to comply. At least they’d had a warning. If they chose to ignore it, that was up to them.

When he saw the first couple of dragons winging past, he mounted Herebeth and had him glide down. He wouldn’t be first there, so F’drun would have no reason to suspect he’d been the one to alert the Wing, unless someone told him.

They landed close to the others. D’gar was glad he’d put on a sweater. It was chilly enough to see your breath on the air this early in the morning and some of the shallower puddles bore thin caps of ice. Yes, it was definitely much colder here than at Fort.

‘Are you feeling all right?’ T’garrin asked, sliding off Belloth very gently. ‘My head feels like someone’s installed a drum tower inside it.’

‘I didn’t drink that much.’

‘Wish I hadn’t either.’

A few more dragons arrived, M’rell and Toth among them. M’rell looked deathly pale and leaned against Toth for support. F’drun stood up straight and did a head count, then called everyone to order. ‘I’ve given the Wingleader a lie in,’ he said. ‘He’ll be joining us later, though. But until then, I’m in charge. Now, first things first, you can all tell your dragons to clear off. You’ll not be needing them this morning.’

One by one, the dragons left. Finally, Ryth took wing as well, although he didn’t go far, perching on the ledge of one of the unused weyrs just above the lake.

‘Let’s see how unfit you lot are, then. Once round the main track, at a decent pace. Ryth will be watching as well as me, so don’t cheat and try to take a short cut.’

D’gar stripped off his sweater. He wouldn’t need it for long. He liked running, although he wasn’t as fit as he’d been when S’brin was alive. S’brin had been an obsessive runner and had encouraged D’gar to join him in circuits around the Bowl. Most mornings he’d done just that, except when the weather was really foul. He set off at a steady pace, just behind T’burrad, V’vil and their colleague from High Reaches, T’rai. They all seemed to be used to exercise. If his fellow Fort riders hadn’t overdone it the night before, they’d probably not have suffered so much. Some of them were trailing quite a way behind, he realised when the track curved around enough for him to see. Most of the Igen riders weren’t doing as well as they might, either. B’lin was doing his best to encourage them although he must be in a similar hung-over state.

Glad I’m a dragon, Herebeth commented. D’gar glanced up. He and Rioth were sitting out on the ledge, watching.

Just wait until this afternoon. Lots of drills for you then.

By the time they’d come full circle, D’gar was out of breath, although not as much as he’d thought he might be. He came to a stop beside the High Reaches riders.

‘Don’t be thinking it’s over yet,’ V’vil warned. ‘That was just a warm up. He’ll save the really hard stuff until everyone’s knackered.’

F’drun waited until they had all made it back. The last of the Igen riders was visibly limping. ‘Right,’ he said. ‘Round again. Faster this time. Whoever’s last has to swim across the lake. Should be freezing in there this morning.’

‘Hang on,’ B’lin said. ’K’fol’s not up to it. He’s recovering from a broken ankle.’

F’drun smiled nastily. ‘That’s his problem. No excuses, no exceptions. Unless you want to take his dip for him.’

‘Now that’s not fair.’

‘Death’s not fair. Thread’s not fair. Why should I be?’

There were grumbles from quite a few riders, but no one said anything directly to F’drun. He scanned all of them, as if daring anyone to complain.

‘B’lin’s a Wingsecond too. He doesn’t have to take this.’ T’garrin had come up alongside D’gar.

‘Don’t know if he’s up to challenging F’drun, though.’ D’gar watched as B’lin left K’fol standing on his good leg and went over to talk to F’drun. It didn’t last long. Shaking his head, he came back to join the rest.

‘Well, I wouldn’t fancy it either.’ T’garrin said. ‘Still, at least none of us will be last. Though M’rell’s not looking too good.’

‘That’s his own fault.’

‘Right. Get going,’ F’drun shouted. Several riders ran off straight away, at a fast pace. The rest followed in a straggling line.

D’gar pondered over whether to join them. It would be sensible to keep his head down as F’drun would be looking for any excuse to pick on him. Although after yesterday evening, he was fairly sure that even if he did everything perfectly, F’drun would still find fault. Besides, it looked like B’lin needed some support. So, instead of running, he walked over to where B’lin and K’fol still stood. ‘How’s your ankle?’

‘It’s not too bad. Just not as strong as the other one. The healer said I should try to keep off it as much as I can. Riding’s no problem now, but walking any distance isn’t good…’ he shook his head. ‘And running just sharding hurts too much.’

‘Best not to do it, then.’

B’lin looked over towards F’drun. ‘You heard what he said.’

‘Yes, but I’d take a healer’s advice over his any day. If I were you, I’d sit it out. You’d be last anyway and you’ll just make it worse.’

‘Yes, but…’ K’fol looked distressed.

‘Didn’t you lot hear me?’ F’drun was on his way over. ‘Get running.’

D’gar waited for B’lin to say something. When it became clear he wasn’t going to he realised it was up to him. ‘This rider doesn’t need the infirmary right now, but if he runs on it, he will. Try explaining that to R’feem when he gets here.’

‘What’s it to you?’

‘Not much point in keeping fit if it injures people.’

‘I agree.’ B’lin said, at last. ‘D’gar’s right.’

F’drun grinned. ‘Well, if you all want a dip in the lake that’s fine by me.’

‘I thought you said it was whoever came last,’ D’gar pointed out, knowing exactly what he was about to let himself in for.

‘Well, which one of you is it, then?’

D’gar took a deep breath. ‘That’ll be me.’ It wouldn’t be enjoyable, but he’d done it before. S’brin had liked to swim with the dragons in one of the mountain lakes which were freezing all Turn round. He’d persuaded D’gar to try it too. It had never been his idea of fun, but he probably had more experience of swimming in cold water than any of the others.

F’drun stalked away. ‘Are you mad?’ B’lin asked.

D’gar smiled. ‘Ask my wingmates.’ He watched the runners for a while. Ideally, there should be blankets waiting. They’d always got a fire going too, with hot klah ready for afterwards. But this wasn’t in the middle of nowhere. They were only a short dragon’s hop to the Lower Caverns where there were warm hearths and an endless supply of klah. He’d be fine. Still, just in case…

Herebeth. Be ready to fish me out, will you?

What are you doing?

Going for a swim. Well, you did yesterday. It can’t be too bad.

I am a dragon. You are not. The water is very cold.

So was that mountain lake and we both swam in that.

The first riders had made it back. They were a lot more out of breath this time. The last few made a race of it, no one wanting to be last. M’rell just beat one of the Igen riders to the finish, punching the air in triumph before sitting down heavily as his legs gave way.

F’drun beckoned them all around. ‘Well now, who came in last?’

The unfortunate rider stuck up his hand.

‘Lucky for you there’s someone to take the dip for you, then.’

There was a look of disbelief on his face, turning to relief as he realised it wasn’t just a joke.

F’drun turned to him. ‘Well, go on. Or do I have to throw you in?’

‘No. I said I’d do it.’ He quickly undressed, then walked to the water’s edge. The pebbles were sharp edged, not rounded as on a beach and they hurt his feet. The water touching his toes was… sharding freezing! He shut his eyes briefly and visualised the mountain lake; S’brin and Zemianth floating in the deep water, Herebeth surfacing from a dive. He waded slowly out towards them, ignoring the pain of the chill water touching his skin. Experience told him it would ease off after a short while.

‘Get on with it!’ F’drun shouted. ‘We’ve not got all day.’

He was up to his waist, getting used to the cold and keeping his breathing steady while preparing to fully immerse himself when something hit him heavily from behind then dragged him out of his depth. He gasped for breath and took in water instead of air. Choking, he struggled for the surface. Something stopped him. Held him down. There was a dark shadow above. He tried to come up clear of it, saw a dragon’s talons far too close to his face and ducked back under. It felt as cold as between. Almost as dark, too. And no air. The cold made his legs heavy and feeble, but he struck out for the surface a second time, only to be pushed down again.

Then there was sudden brightness; a glimpse of sky. With the last of his strength he managed to get his head above the icy water. Sound rushed back. Dragons roared in anger. One screamed. Abruptly, he was plucked from the depths, hoisted aloft and set down on the shore, gasping and puking up water.

He was cold; bone-chillingly cold. A dragon stood over him. Herebeth, on guard and hissing in anger at anyone who tried to get too close. He could feel the rage in his dragon’s mind, but couldn’t offer any reassurance. His brain didn’t seem to be working properly. Mind you, neither were his arms and legs, as he realised when he tried to push himself up and failed miserably. He coughed up more water. It hurt.

Another dragon landed at a distance. Green legs, green tail. Herebeth calmed slightly. Someone ran over and draped him with bed furs. ‘Are you all right?’ H’rek asked.

He tried to reply, but now his teeth were chattering too much. And his throat felt like he’d swallowed glass. All he could do was to hold H’rek’s hand and nod.

‘Well, don’t just stand there,’ H’rek shouted to the other riders. ‘Get klah. And more furs.’

It was still difficult to breathe, although he thought he’d brought up all the water he’d swallowed.

‘Can you reassure Herebeth? People need to get to you and he won’t let them.’

He nodded. I’m all right. No one wants to hurt me.

They tried. That man and that dragon. Get that dragon away.

D’gar didn’t understand. Rioth? You want Rioth to move?

Not Rioth. The bronze.

Talking was just about possible. But although he knew what he wanted to say, the chattering teeth, the shivering and the raw state of his throat and lungs meant that he couldn’t make himself understood.

Herebeth. I can’t talk right now. Get Rioth to tell H’rek what you want.

‘I’ll tell them, don’t worry, ‘H’rek said gently, a short while later. ‘We’ll get you in the warm soon.’

There were more people arriving now. Someone sounded like they were taking charge, although he didn’t recognise the voice.

‘Thanks,’ he managed to croak.

Then Herebeth moved to one side, still protective, but much calmer and several more people crouched down around him. ‘Are you injured?’

He shook his head. ‘Cold.’

H’rek helped him to sit up and held a steaming mug of klah to his lips. ‘Take a drink. It’ll warm you up.’

‘Did you see what happened?’ someone asked.

H’rek nodded. ‘I saw everything. All these riders did too. He…’ he pointed over to his left. ‘Set his dragon on D’gar. Could have killed him.’

After that, things moved fast. He was carried over to the infirmary, Herebeth wheeling above, unwilling to let him out of his sight. Even when they got him inside, the dragon kept trying to stick his head through the doorway, thoroughly blocking it for anyone trying to get in or out.

It’s all right, he kept saying. I’m fine, really. I’ll be back with you soon.

I will not let them hurt you.

No one’s going to hurt me. H’rek’s here. He won’t let anyone hurt me.

That seemed to do the trick. Herebeth reluctantly moved his head. I will stay out here. I will not let that man or his dragon near you. He still sounded fierce.

They brought numbweed and started slathering it on his shoulders. He’d not even realised until then that he’d suffered any injury.

‘It’s not too bad,’ H’rek reassured him. ‘Herebeth dug his talons in a bit when he was pulling you out.’

‘Just a few cuts and punctures,’ said the healer. ‘You’re lucky your dragon was so careful with picking you up.’

Once tucked up in a bed, D’gar gradually began to feel warmer. H’rek sat next to him, looking concerned and offering him more klah to drink. ‘You’re as bad as my mother,’ he said. It came out as a hoarse whisper, but at least he was getting his voice back.

‘Someone needs to look after you. What were you even thinking of, getting in that lake?’

‘F’drun said…’ he coughed again. ‘Said whoever came last had to swim. I volunteered.’

‘You’re mad, you know.’

‘B’lin said that too.’

H’rek fussed with the blankets. ‘Let’s hope that bastard gets in real trouble for this. Getting his dragon to push you under was stupid at best, murderous at worst.’

So that’s what had hit him in the back. ‘Don’t think he meant to hurt me.’

‘Who are you trying to kid? It looked like it from where I was. He shouldn’t be in charge of anyone.’ H’rek sounded angry.

The sound of boots on the stone floor alerted him that someone was coming. He looked up to see R’feem approaching. Time for the inevitable questions, no doubt.

The Wingleader glanced at H’rek, then at D’gar. He pulled up a chair. ‘Well, you know why I’m here, don’t you? Care to tell me your version of what happened?’

D’gar cleared his throat and started to recount the story. He got up to the point where he was wading into the lake and something hit him, when H’rek interrupted. ‘I can fill in from there. I saw everything.’

R’feem nodded. ‘Go on, then.’

‘I’d been on the ledge for a little while at that point. Herebeth was restless and Rioth woke me up. I didn’t know exactly what was happening, but I saw the bronze dragon swoop down and push D’gar under the water. Hovered above him, too, so he couldn’t surface. Herebeth just hurled himself off the ledge and went straight for him. The two dragons… well, they fought. I think the bronze got called off, but you’d have to ask his rider about that. He flew off, anyway. Then Herebeth pulled D’gar out. I grabbed some furs and got down there right away.’

So that explained why Herebeth had been so upset. D’gar remembered hearing a dragon scream. Anger, or pain? ‘Is Ryth hurt?’ he asked. Herebeth must be all right, or he’d know.

‘Got bitten, apparently. Not too badly, though.’

D’gar shut his eyes. Dragons fighting was about the worst thing that could happen in a Weyr. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

‘You’ve no need to be,’ H’rek butted in. ‘It wasn’t his fault,’ he said to R’feem. ‘Herebeth just wanted to protect him.’

‘You’re not doing a bad job yourself.’ There was humour in the Wingleader’s tone.

‘Well, I care about him.’

‘Evidently. Would you mind leaving us for a short while, lad? We’ve got Wing business to discuss.’

H’rek glanced at D’gar querulously.

‘Go on. It’s fine. Could you check Herebeth over for me? He says he’s all right, but I didn’t know I had any injuries until later.’

‘Sure.’ He left reluctantly.

When he’d gone, R’feem looked around. ‘I’d rather talk somewhere more private, but this won’t wait.’

Some of the nearby beds were occupied, although everyone appeared to be sleeping. D’gar braced himself for the expected telling off.

‘Well, this is a mess. Half the Weyr heard those dragons fighting, for all that it was so early. I’ve got the Weyrleader himself demanding to know what was going on.’

‘The Weyrleader. How did he find out?’ It was worse than he’d thought.

‘His brother saw most of it. This sort of thing doesn’t look good on us at all.’

‘I know.’ He felt absurdly guilty. But it hadn’t really been his fault. If F’drun had just let him swim, then everything would have been fine. That didn’t excuse the bad impression they’d made, though.

‘Everyone’s been telling me what happened. All I’ve got to figure out now is why.’

‘I don’t think F’drun intended to actually hurt me,’ he said again, although not entirely sure if he believed it. ‘He just went a bit too far. He doesn’t like me very much.’

‘Any reason for that?’

‘None that I can figure out. The others from High Reaches told us it’s just what he does. Picks on someone at random so everyone else is scared to cross him. Guess I’m the unlucky one.’

‘I’ve heard a few rumours about High Reaches myself. But you know how Weyr gossip is. The Weyrwoman goes down with a mild cold and next thing they’re saying she’s on her deathbed.’

He nodded. ‘Wonder what’s going to get back about this?’

‘Only what T’ron hears from me.’ R’feem sighed heavily. ‘It was always going to be difficult putting a Wing together from different Weyrs. The only consolation I have is that W’lir from Telgar’s having some problems of his own. No, my main issue at the moment is what to do with you.’

D’gar felt a bit sick. ’Are you going to send me back to Fort?’ he asked quietly. It would mean leaving H’rek, being alone again.

‘Why should I do that? It wasn’t you who started it. Although F’drun says you’re an insubordinate troublemaker…’

That was typical. ‘Oh.’

‘Thing is, I know you better than that. You’ve never caused me any bother before, so why should you do it now? Ideally, I’d like to get rid of F’drun but they don’t want him back, so we’re stuck with him. But there's no way I'd have him as a Wingsecond after this.’

That came as something of a relief. However unpleasant it would be having to work with F’drun, at least they would both be on the same level. ‘That other bronze from High Reaches…’ D’gar searched his memory for the name. ‘V’vil. He might be all right as Wingsecond. Or M’rell, of course.’

R’feem snorted. ‘M’rell’s brains are in his trousers. And he’s always been a follower rather than a leader.’

‘Isn’t that a good trait for a brown rider?’

‘So they say. But I’d rather have a Wingsecond who can think for himself. Who could take control if anything happened to me and not make a total mess of it.’

‘I suppose you could always ask if one of the Benden Wingseconds could fill the position.’

‘That’d be one solution. Or I could promote another rider from our Wing. I think I know someone who has the ability to step up to the role.’

’You’d need to pick someone they can look up to. Someone with Turns of experience.’

‘Except I haven’t got those and I’m not going to take another chance with anyone I don’t know well.’ He fixed D’gar with a level gaze. ‘I’d have to pick a rider who’s had a few ups and downs but can still do a better job than some who are Turns older. Someone who’s got everyone’s respect after this morning’s work. So, I’m offering you the Wingsecond position.’

D’gar thought he’d better point out the potential pitfalls there. ‘What about F’drun. He doesn’t respect me.’

‘Lad, he’s the type who thinks he’s better than everyone. He’ll keep a civil tongue in front of me because I’m in charge. But there’s more to being a leader than bullying folk and he’s not learned that lesson, for all his Turns. Dealing with him won’t be easy. But I’m hoping he’ll settle down, now he knows we aren’t going to tolerate that sort of behaviour.’

‘I…er, don’t know what to say.’

‘Yes would be a start.’

‘Well, then… yes.’ It was more than he’d hoped for. Much more. ‘I’d better get out of here and get ready for the drills this afternoon, then. Did anyone bring my clothes?’

R’feem stopped him when he tried to sit up. ‘You might be numbed at the moment, but the healer says you shouldn’t fly between for a few days until those wounds have scabbed over.’

‘Shard it!’

‘He also said you’ll feel a lot worse tomorrow. So, give yourself a few days rest in your weyr, then come back fighting fit.’ He patted the bag he was carrying. ‘And just so you don’t feel as if you’re skiving off, there’s some records here need updating. Never enjoyed all the admin myself, but I’m sure you’ll make short work of it.’