“Indeed,” Betrony agreed.
“If you’re done, Master,” Bekka piped up, “we’d like to take you on a tour of the injured.”
“Dragons and riders?” Betrony asked.
“Dragons and riders,” Bekka agreed. She glanced at Fiona, adding, “Usually the Weyrwoman accompanies us, but she has other duties.”
“Be sure, though, that you let Jeila know,” Fiona said. H’nez glanced at her and looked distant for a moment and then said, “She’s on the fourth level, she’ll meet them there.”
Fiona smiled at the lanky rider. H’nez surprised her with a nod in acknowledgment.
“See if you can get her to consent to an examination, while you’re at it,” Fiona said, looking at Bekka and noticing the relieved look on the youngster’s face.
“Is there a problem?” H’nez asked, his expression guarded and tense.
Fiona shook her head. “She’s smaller than I am and we want to be careful, that’s all.”
“Perhaps I should come along,” H’nez said, rising from his chair.
Fiona grabbed his arm and pulled him back. “Bekka’s lectured me already, H’nez,” she told him. “She told me that she’s in charge of worrying about my twins and Jeila’s pregnancy.”
H’nez’s eyes trailed after the departing healers and settled with a frown on the slight blond in the lead.
“Masterhealer Betrony is here at her request to advise her,” Fiona said. “She’s not taking any risks with Jeila.” She paused and held his eyes. “And if I felt for a moment that she was, I’d have someone else here before you could cough between.”
“She’ll need me,” H’nez said imploringly, worried about the petite weyrwoman.
“She needs us,” Fiona said with emphasis, “not to show worry about her pregnancy.”
“Then there’s reason for worry?”
“With every small person, there’s reason,” Fiona said. “More so with a first pregnancy than with later ones, I’m told.”
“She could lose the child?”
“If you worry about it and she picks up on it, she’ll start to worry and that will certainly cause problems,” Fiona told him.
“It’s just like with your dragon, H’nez,” T’mar said. The bronze rider gave the Weyrleader a startled look, surprised that he’d been listening in and confused by the example. “If you worry that Ginirth might get Thread-scored, don’t you increase the risk?”
“Yes,” H’nez admitted sullenly. “I see your point, Weyrleader, Weyrwoman.” He focused on Fiona. “But what if something does happen?”
“Then we’ll be there for her, with our love and comfort just as we’d be there for Ginirth if he were injured.”
“Sometimes it’s all we can do,” T’mar said, his eyes darting toward Fiona, “to hope that those we love survive.”
“Bekka knows what to do, H’nez,” Fiona assured him soothingly. “She’s shown that by bringing the Masterhealer here.”
H’nez nodded.
“And I trust that her sense is right about this, too: that we can’t worry overmuch, we need to leave that with her.”
“Is that not a rather large load for such a small person?” H’nez asked.
“Wouldn’t you say that just as easily of Jeila?” Fiona countered.
“I do,” H’nez replied, “often.” His lips twitched upward as he added, “I’ve heard it said that you surround yourself with powerful people.”
“The small ones are the most impressive,” Fiona agreed. She stroked H’nez’s arm. “Don’t fear, bronze rider, we’ll keep an eye on her.”
“And while you’re doing that,” Shaneese chimed in, “we’ll keep an eye on you!”
With the two Masters in Bekka’s good hands, Fiona made her way to her weyr to check on Talenth. She wasn’t surprised to note that her bed was empty. Kurinth was young and for all her unhappiness, Terin couldn’t ignore the pleadings of a hungry dragonet.
I’m hungry, Talenth said as if prompted by Fiona’s thoughts.
And no wonder with all that you’ve been doing, Fiona agreed. It had been nearly a week since the queen had last eaten, so it was about time. She escorted her queen to the beast pens and watched, calling out encouragement as Talenth took down a fair-sized meal and ravenously tore it apart. Fiona felt her blood grow hot with the passion of the gold over her meal. She wondered idly if T’mar were free or Kindan, then shook her head, dispelling the notion firmly. Dragon passions were strong, but she would not let them be her master.
Even as she thought that, her stomach rumbled, not pleased with the smells her nose was reporting, and Fiona moved upwind of her queen’s feasting.
Once Talenth was sated, Fiona walked her back to their weyr and saw her settled, finding one patch of dry skin and carefully oiling it even as Talenth’s inner lids started to close for a well-earned nap.
Fiona scratched the gold’s great eye ridges with one hand until she saw that Talenth was fully asleep and, with one final caress, left her.
She did not go far, ducking into Kurinth’s lair after a few quick steps.
The little dragonet seemed tiny in comparison with Talenth, but nearly full-scale when compared with Jeriz standing beside her, watching anxiously as he encouraged Terin in her feeding.
“Terin,” Fiona said softly as she approached her friend. Terin said nothing, fishing out another morsel and handing it to Kurinth, who took it delicately, her eyes whirling in a hungry red.
“Do you need help oiling her?” Fiona offered.
Terin shook her head, but Jeriz caught her eyes and nodded imperceptibly.
“She’s getting bigger,” Fiona said, eyeing the gold critically.
“Every day,” Terin agreed softly, reaching for another morsel from the bucket. Finally, the queen was sated and Terin pushed the bucket away. She reached for the oil pail only to have Jeriz bring it to her and offer her a rag. She smiled in thanks and proceeded to gently stretch Kurinth’s wings, oiling lightly. Fiona, crooning soft encouragements, took another oil rag and started on Kurinth’s other wing.
“You’re the most beautiful baby dragon on all Pern,” Fiona said in a baby voice to the dragonet. “Yes, you are.”
Kurinth creeled happily in response.
After watching the others for a moment, Jeriz found another rag and began oiling Kurinth’s belly, careful not to get in Terin’s way.
“There’s something very satisfying about a well-oiled dragon,” Fiona said as she soaked her rag in the oil and returned to work diligently on her wing.
“That’s not what you used to say,” Terin quipped with a ghost of her former humor. Jeriz gave her an inquiring look and Terin told him, “She used to moan every day.”
“I was tired,” Fiona said in her defense.
“And now that you’re pregnant, shouldn’t you be even more tired?”
“I suppose I should,” Fiona admitted, surprised. “But I’m not so much, it’s as if the pregnancy is giving me more energy.” This statement was punctuated with a long yawn that caused Fiona to frown and Terin and Jeriz to follow suit, as yawns always do. She glanced at Terin. “Did you know I am having twins?”
Terin frowned then nodded. “Not so much ‘know’ as guessed,” Terin said. Fiona arched an eyebrow demandingly. “Well, I asked Bekka and she told me.”
Sheepishly, she added, “Bekka said she’d keep an eye on you.”
“And you didn’t tell me?” Fiona asked, still feeling a little out of sorts over the whole affair.
“I was … distracted,” Terin said with a shrug. “I suppose I can do better now.”
“You can’t hold a grudge forever, Terin,” Fiona said, shaking her head. “It’s not in your nature.”
“Well, I can certainly hold a grudge for now,” Terin told her firmly, ducking down to work on Kurinth’s hind leg.
“Certainly,” Fiona agreed, finishing her wing and ducking down to start on the other hind leg. “I think you could easily go a whole Turn, if you tried.”
“No,” Terin said, shaking her head. “At this rate, we’ll all be dead before Turn’s end.”
Fiona heard Jeriz gasp but she merely shook her head. “I hope you’re wrong.”
“Fiona, why would he lie to me?” Terin asked, looking across under Kurinth’s belly to meet with the Weyrwoman’s eyes in misery.
“I don’t know,” Fiona told her softly. Her voice strengthened as she continued, “And because I don’t know, I have to wonder if he did lie.”
“But I heard her!”
“You heard someone, true,” Fiona said. “He’s been timing it, he said that much.” She shook her head. “That’s all we know.”
“Could it have been you?” Jeriz piped up, surprising them. “Could he have been timing it to you?”
“What, going back in time to Igen?” Terin asked, shaking her head. “Or when I was a child at Fort?”
“ ‘Talking angry is better than angry silence,’ ” Jeriz quoted another trader saying.
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Fiona added in agreement.
Terin snorted. “He can wait, he’s not going anywhere.”
“I hope he’s sleeping,” Fiona said. “He looked nearly Threaded with exhaustion.”
“I want you two to come back with us tonight,” Betrony said after they’d finished the rounds and returned to the Kitchen Cavern. “Bekka, would you be willing to give a lecture?”
“Tonight?” Bekka said. “There’s Threadfall, we’ll be needed.”
“Birentir can hold your place,” Betrony said, adding with a stern look, “unless you don’t think he’s ready.”
“We’d only be a dragon’s flight away,” Seban reminded her. “Three coughs, no more.”
“The Weyrwoman—”
“The Weyrwoman has no objection,” Fiona cut across Bekka’s objection smoothly as she, Kindan, T’mar, and Master Zist finished their private conversation. “Unless, of course, you don’t want another chance to ride Talenth?”
Bekka’s eyes went wide with excitement and then grew thoughtful. She gestured for Fiona to come closer and whispered accusingly, “What are you planning?”
“You’ll find out,” Fiona said, grinning. “I think you’ll like it.”
“So, it’s settled then,” Zist said. “Kindan, Bekka, and Seban will return with us.”
“Kindan?” Fiona asked, turning to the Masterharper in surprise. “I didn’t forget that song he promised,” Zist said, wagging a finger at her.
Fiona slumped, saying dejectedly, “I did.” She glanced at Kindan. “The weyrlings will be able to manage without you?”
“X’lerin will be in charge,” Kinda assured her, adding, “Although, I’d appreciate it if you could keep an eye on them.”
“I could put Terin in charge,” Fiona said musingly. She nodded firmly. “Give her something to do.”
“Then you’ve no objection?” T’mar asked. Fiona shook her head, “No, I suppose not.”
She gave Bekka a huge grin, which alarmed the younger woman greatly. “Sometimes, it’s hard to recall that you’ve over thirteen Turns.”
“I’m small for my age,” Bekka agreed, glancing toward her father. “I get that from Mother.”
Seban smiled and nodded. “We should arrange to visit her soon.”
Bekka nodded firmly, eyes shining in agreement.
“Maybe I’ll take you,” Fiona said. “After all, if you ride Talenth anymore by yourself she might forget who Impressed her.”
“Never!” Bekka said. “I won’t let her.”
“Besides, you’ll have your own queen soon enough,” Fiona predicted.
“I’ve got enough work to—”
“I think I’ve heard enough of that excuse,” Fiona interjected. “If I can do it, you can.”
Bekka, wisely, said nothing.
“Well, if all’s settled,” Zist said, glancing toward T’mar and Fiona, “and you’ll excuse us, Weyrleader, Weyrwoman, we’ll take our leave. The sooner we get them to the Halls, the sooner we can return them to you.”
Talenth circled once above the Star Stones and winked out, between to Fort Hold.
T’mar glanced over to Fiona admiringly. “I don’t know how you can do that so easily.”
“Twins,” Fiona said, lowering a hand toward her belly. “That, and I know what Zist has got in store for them.”
“Well, yes,” T’mar agreed, his eyes lighting. “It will make this evening’s work more enjoyable.”
“It certainly will,” Fiona agreed. “And we’ll have a Master to tell the tale.”
“You do realize what Master Zist is hoping, don’t you?” T’mar asked, his eyes taking on a worried look.
“To promote Kindan to Master, and maybe groom him as his replacement.” She shook her head, adding, “I think he might find himself surprised. Although, even if he isn’t, Fort is only a between away.” T’mar snorted humorously at her words.
“Well,” Fiona said with a dismissive shake of her head, “we’ve lots to do and I’d best be started.” She roused herself. “I’ve been practically indolent this past sevenday.”
“Indeed,” T’mar agreed in facetious deadpan.
Fiona ignored him, setting her course for Terin’s weyr. She heard Talenth cheerfully announce their arrival and wished her queen good choice in ledges, picturing one in particular just above Fort Hold itself where Talenth could keep watch on her father. The queen agreed, glad to oblige her rider, and quickly settled herself in the suggested spot even though some of the Fort guards seemed unduly concerned by the prospect of a gold dragon perched above them.
“Terin!” Fiona called as she entered Kurinth’s weyr. “Enough sulking, we’ve got work to do!”
Terin, after an initial burst of anger, had settled down quickly to join Fiona and Jeila in organizing the Weyr for the evening’s Fall. She and Fiona, after one quick consulting glance, had ensured that Jeila’s assignment required the least exertion or moving about. That left Jeila with a lighter load, but not so much that she was not being asked to do her share.
Terin and Fiona exchanged looks when H’nez happened by and the two lovers exchanged heartfelt caresses punctuated by a long, steamy kiss. For all H’nez’s stuffiness and bristly exterior, it was clear to the both of them that his love for the diminutive weyrwoman was strong.
Finally, all was ready. Fiona forced a cheerful look on her face even as she compared the scant Flight of dragons to the full one hundred and eighty-five fighting dragons that had arrayed before her not more than half a Turn before. Even as her heart shrank in fear, she schooled her expression and forced herself to project confidence and ease for the dragonriders about to start their Fall in the growing gloom of the evening.
T’mar came to her and she hugged him fiercely. “Come back to us,” she said, letting him go and pulling Shaneese over to take her place.
She sought out and hugged C’tov and H’nez in turn, then surprised gruff L’tor by hugging him as well. “Fly safe.”
“Always, Weyrwoman,” L’tor assured her with a tone that fooled her not one bit. She eyed him and leaned up to whisper in his ear, “Don’t try to fool me, just come back safe or Weyrwoman Tullea will have my ears for losing another of her dragons.”
That brought a sharp chuckle from the old rider, who added drolly, “Under those circumstances, I am doubly inspired.”
At last the wings rose into the air, circled the Star Stones, and winked out, between.
Fiona gathered the weyrfolk assigned to the aid stations and broke them into groups, sent a third to rest, another third to eat, and remained on watch with the final third.
J’gerd and the reserve wing arrayed themselves near the weyrlings, who eyed the older riders with awe, instantly ready to meet their every wish.
Of F’jian, Fiona noted with narrowed eyes, there was no sign. She thought that odd, even given his shame, for he was usually well-liked and his absence would be noted. She didn’t say anything to Terin, but Jeila caught her look and nodded under
standingly.
“Terin,” Fiona said suddenly, “can you keep an eye on things here? Jeila and I will have a little sit-down.” Terin nodded blankly and Fiona gestured Jeila toward a pair of chairs set far enough from Terin that the younger weyrwoman wouldn’t be able to hear them as Fiona quickly brought Jeila current on the events regarding F’jian and Terin.
“I don’t think he was lying,” Jeila said thoughtfully when Fiona had finished. “He’s always seemed truthful and devoted to Terin.”
“That’s what I thought,” Fiona said. “But why did he time it? He had to know that it was exhausting him, that T’mar couldn’t allow it.”
“From what you say, he did his best to hide it,” Jeila pointed out. “But I don’t think you’re wrong, T’mar would have noticed. Or H’nez.”
“Or C’tov,” Fiona agreed. “In fact, T’mar did notice it. He remarked on it to me, even.”
“And now we fly a dragon light,” Jeila said with anger in her voice. “What could have been so important?”
“All he said was that he could not tell me, he’d promised.”
“Which again leads me to believe that he was honest with Terin,” Jeila replied.
“Either that or he’s become a gibbering coward,” Fiona said.
“That’s not without possibility,” Jeila agreed. She glancd at Terin, who was engrossed in a conversation with one of the weyrfolk. “But what about her?”
“I’ve got Jeriz watching her,” Fiona said. She explained about her need for a minder and how Shaneese had supplied her with Jeriz.
“He’s Tenniz’s son?” Jeila asked, eyes wide. “Does he have the Sight?”
“He says no, that it will go to his sister,” Fiona said, shaking her head.
“That must be hard on him,” Jeila said. “Losing his father and growing up in the shadow of his sister.”
“Well, we’ll have to see to it that his life has a different course,” Fiona said.
“You can’t simply expect to supply everyone with dragons, Weyrwoman,” Jeila upbraided her in a tolerant voice. “As I recall, the dragons do have a choice.”
“True,” Fiona agreed. “But they seem to find trader stock most appealing.”
“That’s because they have excellent taste,” Jeila agreed with a laugh. “And I suppose, being Tenniz’s son, he might be particularly acceptable.”
Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern Page 14
