Dragonsong (dragon riders of pern) Page 12

  The brown landed near the other dragons, and Menolly now realized that the dragons had been Threadscored and were being treated. The brown dragon half-folded his wings, craning his neck around to the two on his back.

  “You can relax your death hold, lad,” said the brown rider with tolerant amusement as he unfastened the fighting straps from his belt.

  Menolly jerked her hands free with a muttered apology. “I can’t thank you enough for finding me. I thought Thread would get me.”

  “Whoever let you out of your Hold so near to Threadfall?”

  “I was catching spiderclaws. Went out early.”

  He accepted that hurried explanation, but now Menolly wondered how she could make it plausible. She couldn’t remember the name of the nearest Hold on the Nerat side of Half-Circle.

  “Down you go, lad, I’ve got to rejoin my wing to mop up.”

  That was the second time he’d called her “lad.”

  “You’ve a fine pace on you. Ever think of going for a hold runner?”

  The brown rider swung her forward so she could slide down the brown’s shoulders. The moment her feet touched the ground, she thought she’d faint with the pain. She grabbed frantically at the brown’s foreleg. He nuzzled her sympathetically, humming to his rider.

  “Branth says you’re hurt?” The man slid down quickly beside her.

  “My feet!” She’d run the boots to uppers without knowing it, and her lacerated feet were bloody from toe to heel.

  “I’ll tell the world. Here we go!”

  He grabbed her by the wrist, gave a practiced yank and laid her over his shoulder. As he made for the entrance to the lower Caverns, he called out for someone to bring a pot of numbweed.

  She was uprighted into a chair, the blood singing in her ears. Someone was propping her damaged feet onto a stool while women converged on her from several sides.

  “Hey, Manora, Felena,” yelled the brown rider urgently.

  “Just look at his feet! He’s run them raw!”

  “T’gran, wherever…”

  “Saw him trying to outrun Thread down Nerat way. Bloody near did!”

  “Bloody’s quite accurate. Manora, could you spare a moment, please?”

  “Should we wash the feet first or…”

  “No, a cup of weed first,” was T’gran’s suggestion. “You’ll have to cut the boots off…”

  “Someone was holding a cup against her lips, bidding her drink it all down. On a stomach empty of anything but a few blades of cress, the fellis juice acted so quickly that the circle of faces about her became a confused blur.

  “Good heavens, the holders have gone mad, going out in Threadfall.” Menolly thought the speaker sounded like Manora. “This is the second one we’ve rescued today.”

  After that, voices became indistinguishable mumbles. Menolly was unable to focus her eyes. She seemed to be floating a few handspans off the ground. Which suited her because she didn’t want to use her feet anyway.

  Seated at a table on the other side of the kitchen cavern, Elgion at first thought the boy had fainted with relief at being rescued. He could appreciate the feeling certainly, having been sighted by a dragonrider as he was pelting back towards Half-Circle, fully winded and despairing of life. Now, with his stomach full of good weyr stew, his wits and breath restored, he was forced to face his folly in going outside the Hold so close to a Fall. And, more daunting to contemplate, the reception on his return to Half-Circle. Talk about disgracing the Sea Hold! And his explanation that he was searching for fire lizard eggs would not go down well with Yanus. Even Alemi, what would he think? Elgion sighed and watched as several weyrwomen carried the boy off towards the living caverns. He half-rose, wondering if he should have volunteered to help. Then he saw his first fire lizard and forgot everything else.

  It was a little golden queen, swooping into the cavern, calling piteously. She seemed to hover motionless in midair, then winked out of sight. A moment later, she was diving into the kitchen cavern again, less agitated but looking for something or someone.

  A girl emerged from the living cavern, saw the fire lizard and held up her arm. The little queen delicately landed, stroking the girl’s face with her tiny head while the girl evidently reassured her. The two walked out into the Bowl.

  “You’ve never seen one, Harper?” asked an amused voice, and Elgion came out of his trance to attend the weyrwoman who’d been serving him food.

  “No, I hadn’t.”

  She laughed at the wistfulness in his voice. “That’s Grall, F’nor’s little queen,” Felena told him. Then abruptly she asked Elgion if he’d like more stew.

  He politely declined because he’d already had two platefuls: food being the weyr’s way of reassuring those they rescued.

  “I really should be finding out if I can get back to Half-Circle Sea Hold. They’ll have discovered my absence and…”

  “Don’t worry on that account, Harper, for word was passed back through the fighting wings. They’ll let Half-Circle know you’re safely here.”

  Elgion expressed proper gratitude, but he couldn’t help fretting over Yanus’s displeasure. He would simply have to make it clear that he’d been following Weyr orders, and Yanus was nothing if not obedient to his Weyr. Nonetheless, Elgion did not relish his return to the Sea Hold. He also couldn’t politely insist on going when he chose because the dragons were tired as they returned to their Weyr, Thread successfully obliterated on this Fall.

  Some of the young Harper’s worst apprehensions were relieved by T’gellan, the bronze wingleader in charge of that Fall.

  “I myself told them you were safe, and a good thing, too. They were all ready to mount a search. Which, for old Yanus, is a remarkable concession.”

  Elgion grimaced. “I suppose it wouldn’t look well to lose two Harpers in a short time.” “Nonsense. Already Yanus prizes you above fish! Or so Alemi said.”

  “Was he angry?”

  “Who? Yanus?”

  “No, Alemi.”

  “Why? I’d say he was better pleased than Yanus to hear you were safe and scoreless at Benden. More important, did you see any signs of fire lizard clutches?”

  “No.”

  T’gellan sighed, stripping off his wide riding belt and opening the heavy wherhide jacket. “How we need the silly creatures.”

  “Are they that useful?”

  T’gellan gave him a long look. “Possibly not. Lessa thinks them a real nuisance; but they look, and act, like dragons. And they give those narrow-minded, hidebound, insensitive Lord Holders just that necessary glimpse of what it is to ride a dragon. That is going to make life…and progress…easier for us in the Weyrs!”

  Elgion rather hoped that this had been made plain to Yanus; and he was going to tactfully suggest that he was ready to go back to the Sea Hold when the bronze rider was called away to check a dragon’s wing injury.

  Elgion found the additional delay instructive. He decided he would put his observations to good use in getting back into Yanus’s favor—for he had an opportunity to see Weyr life as unsung in Saga and Ballad. An injured dragon cried as piteously as a child until his wounds were salved with numbweed. A dragon also cried distressingly if his rider was injured. Elgion watched the touching sight of a green dragon, crooning anxiously at her rider as he leaned against her forearm, while the weyrwomen dressed his Threadscored arm. Elgion saw the weyrlings bathing and oiling their young beasts, the Weyr’s several fire lizards assisting. He saw the youngsters of the Weyr refilling firestone sacks for the next Fall, and couldn’t fail to notice that they made less work of the onerous chore than Sea Hold lads would have done. He even ventured to peer into the Hatching Ground where golden Ramoth lay curled protectively around her eggs. He ducked out of sight, hoping she hadn’t seen him.

  Time passed so quickly that Elgion was surprised to hear the kitchen women calling everyone in to eat. He hovered at the entrance, wondering what to do when T’gellan grabbed him by the arm and propelled him to an emp
ty table.

  “G’sel, come over here with that bronze nuisance of yours. I want the Half-Circle Harper to see him. G’sel has one of the original clutch F’nor discovered in Southern,” T’gellan said in an undertone as they watched the stocky young man weaving his way through the tables towards them, balancing a bronze fire lizard on his forearm.

  “This is Rill, Harper,” G’sel said, extending his arm to Elgion. “Rill, be courteous, he’s a Harper!”

  With great dignity the fire lizard extended his wings, executing what Elgion construed to be a bow, while the jeweled eyes regarded him intently. Not knowing how one saluted a fire lizard, Elgion tentatively extended his hand.

  “Scratch his eye ridges,” G’sel suggested. “They all love that.”

  To Elgion’s delight and amazement, the fire lizard accepted the caress, and as Elgion’s stroking eased an itch, Rill’s eyelids began to close in sensuous pleasure.

  “He’s another convert,” said T’gellan, laughing and pulling out his chair. The noise roused the fire lizard from somnolence and his hissed softly at T’gellan. “They’re bold creatures, too, you’ll notice, Harper, with no respect for degree.”

  This was evidently an old jibe, for G’sel, seating himself, paid it no heed, but coaxed Rill to step onto a padded shoulder rest so he could eat the dinner now being served.

  “How much do they understand?” Elgion asked, taking the chair opposite G’sel so he could see Rill better.

  “To hear Mirrim talk about her three, everything.”

  T’gellan snorted with good-natured derision.

  “I can ask Rill to carry a message to any place he’s already been. No, to a person he knows at another Hold or Weyr I’ve taken him to. He follows me no matter where I go. Even during Threadfall.” At T’gellan’s snort, G’sel added, “I told you to watch today, T’gellan. Rill was with us.”

  “Yes, so tell Elgion how long it takes Rill to come back from delivering a message.”

  “All right, all right,” said G’sel with a laugh as he stroked Rill affectionately. “And when you’ve one of your own, T’gellan…”

  “Possibly, possibly,” the bronze rider said easily. “Unless Elgion here finds us another clutch, we’ll just have to stay jealous of you.”

  T’gellan changed the subject then to ask about Half-Circle Hold, general questions that did not embarrass or compromise Elgion. T’gellan evidently knew Yanus’s reputation.

  “If you feel too isolated there, Harper, don’t fail to fly the signal and we’ll pop you up for an evening here.”

  “Hatching’s soon,” G’sel suggested, grinning and giving Elgion a wink.

  “He’ll be here for that certainly,” T’gellan agreed.

  Then Rill creeled for a bite to eat while the bronze rider chided G’sel for turning the lizard into an importunate beggar. Elgion noticed T’gellan, himself, finding a titbit for the little bronze, however, and he, too, offered Rill some meat, which the creature daintily accepted from the knife.

  By the end of the meal Elgion was ready to brave Yanus’s worst displeasure and wrath to find a fire lizard clutch and Impress a fire lizard of his own. That prospect made his inevitable return easier.

  “I’d better do you the honors, Elgion,” T’gellan said, rising at last from the table. “And I’d also better get you back early. No sense aggravating Yanus more than necessary.”

  Elgion wasn’t certain how to take that remark or the wink that accompanied it, particularly as it was now full dark and for all he knew, the Hold doors were already barred for the night. Too late now to wish he’d gone back as soon as the dragonriders had returned from the Fall. But then he wouldn’t have met Rill.

  They were aloft, Elgion reveling in the experience, craning his head to see as much as possible in the clear night air. He had only a glimpse of the Higher Benden Range hills before T’gellan asked Monarth to take them between.

  Suddenly, it was no longer full dark: the sun was a handspan above the glowing sea as they burst into the air above Half-Circle Harbor.

  “Told you I’d get you back early,” T’gellan said, turning to grin at the Harper’s startled exclamation. “We’re not supposed to time it, but all in a good cause.”

  Monarth circled down lazily so that everyone in the Sea Hold was gathered on the holdway when they landed. Yanus strode a few paces ahead of the others while Elgion searched the faces for Alemi’s.

  T’gellan leaped from the bronze’s shoulder and made a show of assisting Elgion as the entire Hold cheered loudly for their Harper’s safe return.

  “I’m neither crippled or old,” Elgion muttered under his breath, aware of Yanus’s approach. “Don’t overdo it.”

  T’gellan laid his arm across Elgion’s shoulders in a comradely fashion, beaming at the oncoming Sea Holder. “Not at all,” he said out of the corner of his mouth. “The Weyr approves!”

  “Sea Holder, I am profoundly embarrassed at the inconvenience…”

  “No, Harper Elgion,” T’gellan interrupted him, “any apologies are the Weyr’s. You were adamant in wishing to return to Half-Circle immediately. But Lessa needed to have his report, Yanus, so we had to wait.”

  Whatever Yanus had been about to say to his erring Harper was neatly blocked by T’gellan’s obvious approval. The Sea Holder rocked a bit on his feet, blinking as he reorganized his thoughts.

  “Any fire lizard sign you discover must be made known to the Weyr as soon as possible,” T’gellan continued blithely.

  “Then that tale is true?” Yanus asked in a grumble of disbelief. “Those…those creatures do exist?”

  “They do indeed, sir,” Elgion replied warmly. “I have seen, touched and fed a bronze fire lizard; his name is Rill. He’s about as big as my forearm…”

  “You did? He is?” Alemi had pushed through the crowd, breathless from excitement and the exercise of hobbling as fast as he could down the holdway. “Then you did find something in the cave?”

  “The cave?” Elgion had forgotten all about his original destination that morning.

  “What cave?” demanded T’gellan.

  “The cave…” and Elgion gulped and then boldly embroidered on the lie T’gellan had begun, “I told Lessa about. Surely you were in the room then.”

  “What cave?” demanded Yanus, stepping close to the younger men, his voice half-angry because he was being excluded from the conversation.

  “The cave that Alemi and I spotted on the shore near the Dragon Stones,” Elgion said, trying to give the proper cues. “Alemi,” Elgion had to address T’gellan now, “is the Sea Man who saw the fire lizards last spring near the Dragon Stones. Two—three days back, we sailed down the coast and saw the cave. That’s where I think it’s likely we’ll find fire lizard eggs.”

  “Well, then, since you’re now safely in your Hold, Harper Elgion, I will leave you.” T’gellan couldn’t wait to get back to Monarth. And the cave.

  “You’ll let us know if you find anything, won’t you?” Elgion called after him and received only a wild arm gesture before the bronze rider swung himself up to Monarth’s back.

  “We offered him no hospitality for his trouble in returning you,” Yanus said, worried and somewhat aggrieved by the bronze rider’s precipitous departure.

  “He’d just eaten,” Elgion replied, as the bronze dragon beat his way upward above the sunset-lit waters of the harbor.

  “So early.”

  “Ah, he’d been fighting Thread. And he’s wingleader, so he must be back at the Weyr.” That did impress Yanus. Rider and dragon winked out, drawing a startled exclamation of delight from everyone. Alemi caught Elgion’s eye, and the Harper had to suppress his grin: he’d share the full jest with Alemi later. Only would the joke be on himself if after all the half-truths T’gellan found fire lizard eggs…or a piper…in the cave?

  “Harper Elgion,” said Yanus firmly, waving the rest of the holders away from them as he pointed to the Hold door. “Harper Elgion, I’d be grateful for a few words
of explanation.”

  “Indeed, sir, and I’ve much to report to you of happenings in the Weyr.” Elgion respectfully followed the Sea Holder. He knew now how to deal with Yanus with no further recourse to evasions or lies.

  Chapter l0

  Then my feet took off and my legs went, too,

  So my body was obliged to follow

  Me with my hands and my mouth full of cress

  And my throat too dry to swallow.

  When Menolly roused, she was in a quiet dark place and something crooned comfortingly in her ear. She knew it was Beauty, but she wondered how she could be so warm all over. She moved, and her feet felt big, stuffed and very sore.

  She must have made some sound because she heard a soft movement and then the glow in the corner of the room was half-unshielded.

  “Are you comfortable? Are your feet painful?”

  The warmth beside Menolly’s ear disappeared. Clever Beauty, Menolly thought with approval after an instant’s fear of discovery.

  Someone was bending over Menolly now, securing the sleeping furs about her shoulders; someone whose hands were gentle, soothing, who smelled of clean herbs and faintly of numbweed.

  “They only hurt a little,” Menolly replied untruthfully because her feet had taken to throbbing so hard she was afraid the woman could hear them.

  Her soft murmur and her gentle hands denied Menolly’s stoicism.

  “You must surely be hungry. You’ve slept all day.”

  “I have?”

  “We gave you fellis juice. You’d run your feet to ribbons…” There was a slight hesitation in the woman’s voice. “They’ll be fine in a sevenday. No serious cuts.” The quiet voice held a ripple of amusement. “T’gran is convinced you’re the fastest…runner in Pern.”

  “I’m not a runner. I’m just a girl.”

  “Not ‘just’ a girl. I’ll get you something to eat. And then it’s best if you sleep again.”

  Alone, Menolly tried not to think of her throbbing feet and a body which felt stone-heavy, immobile. She worried for fear Beauty or some of the others would come and be discovered by the weyrwoman, and what would happen to Lazy with no one to make him hunt for himself and…