Dragon Song

by Anne McCaffrey

  Menolly sank wearily back against the stones, depleted by the emotionally-laden miracle. And the look on Brekke's face as she passed under the arched entrance. Manora was there, her face radiant, her arms outstretched in a joyful gesture. The man, who was surely F'nor, swept Brekke up in his arms, his tired face mirroring his relief and gladness.

  A cheer from the miners beside her indicated that their lad had Impressed although Menolly couldn't be certain which of the boys he was. There were so many now paired off with wobbly-legged hatchlings, all creeling with hunger, lurching and falling towards the entrance. The miners were urging their favourite on; and when a curly-haired, skinny lad passed by, with a grin for their cheering, she saw that he had done rather well, Impressing a brown. When the exultant miners turned to her to share their triumph, she managed to respond properly, but she was relieved when they scrambled down the tiers to follow the pair out of the Hatching Ground.

  She sat there, glowing over the resurgence of Brekke, the determination and fierceness of bronze Berd, his courage in braving Ramoth's ire at such a moment Now, why, Menolly wondered, didn't Berd want Brekke to Impress the new queen? At all events, the experiment had successfully roused Brekke from her lethargy.

  The dragons were returning, landing in the Hatching Ground so that their riders could help the weyrlings, or to escort guests outside. The tiers were emptying. Soon there was only a man in holder colors on the first tier with two boys. The man looked as tired as she felt. Then one of the boys rose, pointing to the little egg on the sand that wasn't even rocking.

  Idly Menolly thought that it might not hatch, remembering the uncracked egg left in the fire lizard's sand nest the morning after her fire lizards had hatched. She'd shaken it and something hard had rattled within. Sometimes hold babies were born dead, so she'd supposed that it could happen to other creatures, too.

  The boy was running along the tier now. To Menolly's astonishment, he jumped to the Hatching Ground and began kicking at the little egg. His cries and his actions attracted the notice of the Weyrleader and the small knot of candidates who had not Impressed. The Holder half rose, one hand extended in a cautionary gesture. The other boy was shouting at his friend.

  "Jaxom, what are you doing?" shouted the Weyrleader.

  The egg fractured then, and the boy began tearing at the shell, ripping out sections and kicking until Menolly could see the small body pushing at the thick inner membrane.

  Jaxom cut at the membrane with his belt knife, and a small white body, not much larger than the boy's torso, fell from the sac. The boy reached out to help the creature to his feet

  Menolly saw the little white dragon lift his head, his eyes, brilliant with greens and yellows, fastened on the boy's face.

  "He says his name is Ruth!" the boy cried in amazed delight

  With a strangled exclamation, the older man sank back to the stone seat, his face a mask of grief. The Weyrleader and the others who had rushed to prevent what had just occurred halted. To Menolly it was all too obvious that Jaxom's Impression of the little white dragon was unprecedented and unwelcome. And she couldn't imagine why: the boy and the dragon looked so radiant, who could deny them their joyous union?

  Chapter 13

  "Your song has a sorrowful sound,

  Though the tune was written as gay.

  "Your voice is sad and your hands are slow

  And your eye meeting mine turns away.

  When it became obvious to Menolly that Tgellan had forgotten his promise to return, she slowly climbed down from the tiers and made her way out of the deserted Hatching Ground, over the hot sand.

  Beauty met her at the entrance, demanding caresses and reassurance. She was swiftly followed by the others, all cluttering nervously and with many anxious dartings to the entrance to see if Ramoth was about.

  Although Menolly had not had far to walk on the sands, the heat had quickly penetrated the soles of her slippers. Her discomfort was acute by the time she stepped onto the cooler earth of the Bowl. She edged to one side of the entrance and sank down, her fire lizards grouping themselves about her while she waited for the pain to subside.

  As everyone was on the kitchen cavern side of the Bowl, no one noticed her, for which she was grateful since she felt useless and foolish. It would be a long walk across the Bowl to the kitchens. Well, she'd just take it in small sections.

  She heard the faint cries of the herdbeasts at the farthest end of the Bowl valley and saw Ramoth hovering for a kill. The weyrwomen had said that Ramoth hadn't eaten for the past ten days, which was partly the cause of her irascible temper.

  By the lakeside, hatchlings were being fed and bathed, and their riders shown how to oil the fragile skin. Their white tunics stood out among the gleaming green, blue, brown and bronze hides. The little queen was slightly removed from the others, with two of the bronze dragons in attendance. She couldn't see where the white dragon was.

  On the weyr ledges dotting the Bowl's face, some dragons were curled in what remained of the afternoon sun. Above and to the left of her, Menolly saw great bronze Mnementh on the ledge of the queen's weyr. He was seated on his haunches, watching his mate choose her meal. Menolly saw him move slightly, glancing over his left shoulder. Then Menolly caught a glimpse of a man's head as he descended the stairs from the queen's weyr.

  Felena's voice, raised above the conversational babble, brought Menolly's gaze back to the kitchen cavern where tables were being erected for the evening's feasting. The dragonriders were doing it, for the bright colors of their best tunics were conspicuous, moving about while the soberer colors of Holder and Craft seemed to stay in stationary clumps at a polite distance from the workers.

  The man had reached the Bowl floor now from the queen's weyr, and Menolly idly watched him start across. Auntie One and Two came sweeping down to her, chittering about something that had excited them and ducking their heads at her for reassurance. They needed to be oiled, and she felt guilty for not taking better care of them.

  "Do you have two greens?" asked an amused voice, and the tall man was standing in front of her, his eyes friendly and interested.

  "Yes, they're mine," she said and held up Two for him to inspect, responding to the kindness and good humor in his long face. "They like their eye ridges scratched, gently, like this," she added, showing him.

  He dropped to one knee in the sand and obligingly caressed Two, who crooned and closed her eyelids in appreciation. Auntie One whistled at Menolly for attention, digging a jealous claw into her hand.

  "Stop that, you naughty creature."

  Beauty roused, and Rocky and Diver reacted as well, all three scolding Auntie One so fiercely that she took flight.

  "Don't tell me the queen and the two browns are yours as well?" the man asked, startled.

  "I'm afraid so."

  'Then you must be Menolly," he said, rising to his feet and making such an elaborate bow that she blushed. "Lessa has just told me that I may have two eggs of that clutch you discovered. I'm rather partial to browns, you know, though I wouldn't actually object to a bronze. Of course the greens, like this lady here," and he smiled such a winning smile to the watching Two that she crooned responsively, "are such delicate darlings. That doesn't mean that I would object to a blue, however."

  "Don't you want the queen?"

  "Ah, now that would be greedy of me, wouldn't it?" He rubbed his face thoughtfully and gave her a wry half-smile. "All things considered, though, I'd be heartily embarrassed if Sebell-my Journeyman is to have possession of the other egg-secured a queen instead. But ..." and he threw his long figured hand upwards to signify his submission to chance. "Are you waiting here for some purpose? Or is the confusion on the other side of the Bowl too much for all your friends?"

  "I should be there. The clutch must be turned; the eggs are in warm sand by the hearth; but Tgellan brought me into the Hatching Cavern and told me to wait..."

  "And seems to have forgot you. Not surprising, considering today's surprises." The
man hastily cleared his throat and extended his hand to her.

  She accepted his aid because she couldn't have risen without it He had taken three strides when he realized that she wasn't keeping up with him. Politely he turned. Menolly tried to walk normally, a feat she managed for about three strides when her heel came down so painfully on a patch of pebbles that she involuntarily cried out Beauty whirled, scolding fiercely, and Rocky and Diver added their antics, which were of no help to anyone.

  "Here's my arm, girl. Were you too long on the hot sands? Ah now, wait. You're a long child, but there's no meat on your bones."

  Before Menolly could protest, he'd swung her up into his arms and was carrying her across the Bowl.

  "Tell that queen of yours I'm helping you," he asked when Beauty disordered his silvering hair, diving at him. "After sober reflection, be sure you give me green eggs."

  Beauty was too excited to harken to Menolly, so she had to wave her arms about his head and face to protect him. It was not astonishing then that their approach to the kitchen caverns attracted attention; but people made way so politely, bowing to them with such deference, that Menolly began to wonder who the man was. His tunic was a gray cloth with just a band of blue, so he must be a harper of some sort; probably weyrbound to Fort Weyr to judge by the yellow arm device.

  "Menolly, did you hurt your feet?" Felena appeared before them, curious at the flurry of excitement "Didn't Tgellan remember you? He's got no memory, drat the man. How good of you to rescue her, sir!"

  "Think nothing of it, Felena. I discovered she was custodian of the fire lizard eggs. However, if you happened to have a cup of wine ... This is thirsty work."

  "I can stand, really I can, sir," Menolly protested, for something in Felena's manner told her that this man was too-important to be toting sore-footed girls. "Felena, I couldn't stop him."

  "I'm only being my usual ingratiating self," the man told her, "and do stop struggling. You're too heavy!"

  Felena was laughing at his exaggeration as she led the way to Menolly's table above the egg basket.

  "You're a terrible fellow, Master Robinton, indeed you are. But you'll have your wine while Menolly picks out the best of the clutch. Have you spotted the queen egg, Menolly?"

  "After the way Menolly's queen has been attacking me, I'd be safer with any other color, Felena. Now do get that wine for me, there's a good woman. I'm utterly parched."

  As he gently settled her into her chair, Menolly heard Felena's teasing remark, ". . . terrible fellow, Master Robinton . . . terrible fellow, Master Robin-ton ..." She stared at him, disbelieving.

  "Now, what's the matter, Menolly? Did my exercise bring out spots on my face?" He mopped at his cheeks and brow and examined his hand. "Ah, thank you, Felena. You've saved my life. My tongue was quite stuck to the roof of my mouth. And here's to you, young queen, and thank you for your courtesy." He raised his cup to Beauty, who was perched on Menolly's shoulder, her tail firmly entwined as she glared at him. "Well?" he asked kindly of Menolly.

  "You're the Masterharper?"

  "Yes, I'm Robinton." He sounded quite casual about it "And I think you need some wine, too."

  "No, I couldn't" Menolly held up her hands in refusal. "I get hiccups. And go to sleep." She hadn't meant to say that either, but she had to explain why she was discourteous enough to refuse his cup. She was also acutely aware now of her stained overshirt, her sandy clothes and slippers, her complete disarray. This

  wasn't how she imagined her first meeting with the Masterharper of Pern, and she hung her head in embarrassment.

  "I always advise eating before drinking," remarked Master Robinton in the nicest possible way. "I shouldn't wonder but that's half the problem right now" he added and then raised his voice. "This child is faint with hunger, Felena."

  Menolly shook her head, denying his suggestion and trying to forestall Felena, but she was already ordering one of the lads to bring klah, a basket of breads, and a dish of sliced meats. When she was served, just as if she were one of the Weyrwomen, she kept her head bent over her cup, blowing to cool the contents.

  "Do you think there's enough here for a starving man?" asked Masterharper Robinton, his voice so plaintive and faint with his pretended hunger that Menolly was startled into glancing up at him. His expression was at once so wistful, appealing and kind that, despite her deep chagrin, she smiled in response to his foolishness. "I'll need strength for this evening's work, and a base for my drinking," he added in a very quiet, worried voice.

  She had the feeling that he had let her share his responsibilities, but she wondered at the sadness and anxiety. Surely everyone in the Weyr was happy today?

  "A few slices of meat on a slab of that good bread," and Robinton made his voice quaver like a peevish old uncle's. "And . . ." his voice returned to his normal baritone range, "a cup of good Benden wine to wash it down..."

  To her consternation, he rose then, bread and meat in one hand, the wine mug in the other. He bowed to her with great dignity and, with a smile, was off.

  "But, Masterharper, your fire lizard eggs..."

  "Later, Menolly. I'll come back later for them."

  His tall figure, his head visible above the bustling activity, retreated across the cavern, away from her. She watched until he was out of sight amid the visitors, bewildered, and all too keenly aware that there was no way in which she would be able to ask Masterharper Robinton about her songs. Twiddles they were, as Yanus and Mavi had always said: too insignificant to be presented for serious consideration to such a man as Masterharper Robinton.

  Beauty crooned softly and headstroked Menolly's cheek. Rocky hopped down from his wall perch to her shoulder. He nuzzled her ear, humming in a consoling tone.

  Mirrim found her that way, and she roused from her apathy to rejoice with her friend.

  "Oh, I'm so very happy for you, Mirrim. You see it did come right!" If Mirrim, with all her worries, had been able to keep a good face, surely Menolly, with much to be grateful for, could manage to follow her example.

  "Did you see it? You were in the Hatching Ground? I was so terrified that I didn't dare watch" Mirrim said, no trace of terror now in her radiant face. "I made Brekke eat, the first food she's taken in days. And she smiled at me, Menolly. She smiled at me, and she knew me. She's going to be perfectly all right. And F’nor ate every speck of the roast wherry I brought him." She giggled, all mischievous girl, not Mirrim-Felena, or Mirrim-Manora. "I snitched the best slices of the spiced wherry breast, too. And you know, he ate every bit of it! He'll probably eat himself sick at the Feast as well. Then I told him to take poor Canth down to feed because that dragon's just about transparent with hunger." Her voice dropped in awe. "Canth tried to protect Wirenth from Prideth, you know. Can you imagine that? A brown protecting a queen! It's because F'nor loves Brekke so. And now it's all right. It's well and truly all right, So tell me."

  "Tell you? What?"

  Irritation flashed across Mirrim's face. "Tell me exactly what happened when Brekke got on the Hatching Ground. I told you I didn't dare look myself."

  So Menolly told her. And told her again until she ran out of answers to all the detailed questions Mirrim found to ask her.

  "Now you tell me why everyone's so upset about this Jaxom Impressing the little white dragon. He saved his life, you know. The dragon would have died if Jaxom hadn't broken the shell and cut the sac."

  "Jaxom Impressed a dragon? I didn't know!" Mirrim's eyes widened with consternation. "Oh! Now why would that kid do such a dreadful thing?"

  "Why is it dreadful?"

  "Because he's got to be Lord Holder of Ruatha Hold, that's why."

  Menolly was a bit annoyed with Mirrim's impatience and said so.

  "Well, he can't be Lord Holder and dragonrider. Didn't you learn anything in that Sea Hold of yours? And, by the way, I saw the Half-Circle Harper, I think his name is Elgion. Shall I tell him you're here?"

  "No!"

  "Well, no need to bite my head off." And wi
th that Mirrim flounced off in a huff.

  "Menolly, will you forgive me? I completely forgot to come back for you," Tgellan said, striding up to the table before Menolly had a chance to catch her breath. "Look, the Masterminer is supposed to have two eggs. He can't stay for the whole Feast, so we've got to fix something for him to carry the eggs home in. And the rest of the eggs as well. No, don't get up. Here, you, come be feet for Menolly," he ordered, beckoning to one of the weyrboys.

  So Menolly spent most of that evening in the kitchen cavern sewing furry bags to carry eggs safely between. But she could hear all the jollity outside; and with no small effort, she made herself enjoy the singing. Five Harpers, two drummers and three pipers made music for the Impression Feast She thought she recognized Elgion's strong tenor in one song, but it was unlikely he'd look for her at the back of the kitchen cavern.

  His voice made her briefly homesick for seawinds and the taste of salty air; briefly, too, she longed for the solitude of her cave. Only briefly; this Weyr was the place for her. Her feet would heal soon; she'd no longer be Old-Auntie-Sit-by-the-Fire. So how would she make her place in the Weyr? Felena had enough cooks, and how often would the Weyr, used to meat when it wished, want to eat fish? Even if she knew more ways of preparing it than anyone else? When she came down to it, the only thing in which she excelled was gutting fish. No, she would not think about harpering anymore. Well, there had to be something she could do.

  "Are you Menolly?" asked a man tentatively.

  She looked up to see one of the minercraftsmen who'd shared her tier at the Impression.

  "I'm Nicat, Masterminer of Crom Hold. Weyr-woman Lessa said that I was to have two fire lizard eggs."

  Beyond his stiff manner, Menolly could see he was restraining an eager impatience to hold fire lizard eggs of his own.

  "Indeed I have sir, right here," she said, smiling warmly at him and indicating the table-protected basket