“Dragons will carry anything just as easily,” Fiona assured her. “They can carry great weights.”
“No, my lady, we buy ships and bring them here,” Jassi told her, waving her hand around the camp. “They don’t have to be new, they can be old and mastless.”
“Slow down, slow down,” Fiona said. “I don’t understand.”
It took a while for Jassi to make sense and, infuriatingly for Fiona, even longer for the Weyrwoman to comprehend her.
“So we buy old ships without the masts, small ships, and have the dragons fly them from the shore here onto the land.”
“Exactly,” Jassi agreed. “We might want to dig out the ground to give them an even keel, but then we could put all the people and supplies in them—it’d be just like living aboard a ship.” Jassi paused. “We’d need about nine or ten small ones, maybe less if we could haul a bigger one—they could easily hold a wing of riders or more.”
“And the dragons?”
“They don’t mind sleeping out,” Jassi said, gesturing around toward several clumps of stray dragons dozing in the sunlight.
“They’re tough,” Fiona said.
“And they think it’s fun,” Jassi added.
“What about the sails?” Fiona asked, perking up. Jassi looked at her in surprise. “If we bought the ships, they’d come with—what?—two sets of sails, right?”
In the end, it took a combination of ships, sails, and palm trees to provide enough housing and they found eleven ships in all, keeping one afloat to help with the fishing.
Lorana and Jassi were the principle sailingmasters, aided by the one person Lorana trusted back in this time with their secret—Colfet.
She’d been delighted when Jassi had told her that the old sailor had survived the wreck of the Wind Rider and had insisted on taking Talenth to meet him. Their reunion had been joyful, but Lorana had seen how hard the wreck had been on the man; his arm had never healed quite right so he’d eked out a living repairing fishnets and sails. He’d been perfect for the mission and thrilled to be able to help her once more.
His enthusiasm had faded somewhat when he’d discovered how poorly some of his students absorbed his teaching, but he was old enough to take the long view and shortly, even the worst of his “crew” were able to do their duties to his satisfaction.
Fiona had dispatched T’mar and Terin to borrow the Igen Weyr Records, which she insisted upon using for teaching materials with Jeriz—she had not forgotten her promise to teach him reading.
Jassi suggested that they borrow the Records from Ista, which might have suggestions more suited to the humid, wet climate they inhabited, but Fiona vetoed that idea.
“What we really need is a smith or access to their Records,” Fiona mused one day after Kindan had brought back a bit of silver. “That’d teach us something about smelting silver.”
“We need to talk to the Masterminer about mining the ore and what to look for,” Kindan countered.
“Why not both?” Lorana asked. The two turned to her. Jirana was already asleep on one of the hammocks that Fiona would never use—they made her seasick—and the group had the large stern cabin to themselves, as Colfet had refused Lorana’s offer, saying, “The side cabin’s all I need, lass.”
“How could we do that?” Kindan asked.
“Harpers are permitted anywhere,” Lorana said blandly. “And you could copy anything we need that you found.” She glanced toward Fiona and winked. “Take Jeriz with you, he could use the practice.”
“You’d have to pry him away from Terin,” Fiona said. She’d only managed to teach the lad to read by arranging for the young weyrwoman to be with them. Fiona got the impression that, were the green-eyed boy older, he would have sought instruction from Terin directly.
As it was, Kindan managed to get Jeriz to agree to go along only if Terin could accompany them. So, Lorana, Kindan, Jeriz, and Terin departed on Talenth, leaving Kurinth in Fiona’s care.
When they returned, it was all Kindan could do to thank the younger pair and release them before he and Lorana burst into laughter. “You should have seen him,” Kindan told Fiona, “you would have thought that Verilan himself was watching his every stroke.”
“Did he do well?”
“Marvelously, if terrified for fear of not impressing Terin,” Lorana allowed with equal mirth. She shook her head and sobered, telling Fiona, “I think you made an inspired choice with that pair.”
Fiona said, “Yes, I did, didn’t I? I can’t wait to see my own children at that age.”
She could not say the same thing six months later. She was great with child, expecting any moment, sleeping fitfully in a bunk in the captain’s cabin, attended by Bekka, who was aided by Jirana with Javissa and Shaneese, and with Lorana on call.
Bekka examined her after her water broke and Jirana went for her mother and Shaneese. At Fiona’s behest, Lorana, Kindan, and T’mar came, but the cabin was too small for all of them, so they took turns comforting her.
“I’m never, never, never doing this again!” Fiona screamed as a contraction rippled through her.
“You’re doing fine,” Shaneese assured her.
“I don’t feel FIIINE!” Fiona shouted as another contraction shook her.
“T’mar, get behind her,” Bekka ordered, all her calm tone suddenly replaced with a commanding voice of cold precision. “Fiona, you know what to do.”
Fiona, with T’mar’s guidance, found her way to the birthing stool and squatted as she’d practiced for the past two months. T’mar knelt behind her and she leaned back onto his chest. Lorana came to one side and Kindan to the other.
Bekka examined the position of the babies with her hands on Fiona’s stomach and grunted in satisfaction.
“You’re doing fine,” Bekka assured her. “Next contraction, push hard.”
“Anything!” Fiona wailed, squeezing Kindan’s hand tightly.
Another contraction rippled through her and another. Fiona yelled loud and long, took another deep breath.
“I don’t think you’re yelling loud enough,” Bekka told her calmly as she examined the birth canal. “Can’t you do better?”
“Bekkkaaa,” Fiona warned with a ragged breath. “Don’t tempt me.”
“Are you afraid?” Bekka taunted, eyeing Fiona’s stomach carefully. “Remember, you’ve got two coming. The time to have avoided this was ten months back.”
“They’re not forty weeks,” Fiona said, panting to regain her breath. “They’re thirty-seven, so that’s not much more than nine months.”
“Stop talking,” Bekka snapped. She saw the contraction start, and ordered, “Push!”
With another yell, louder this time, Fiona pushed with all her strength. Bekka reached up to guide the baby and caught it deftly.
“Shaneese, the knife,” Bekka said.
“What!” Fiona wailed, eyes wide with surprise.
“The first one’s out, I’m cutting the umbilical,” Bekka told her, making the cut and tying the tube. She pulled the baby away and handed it to Shaneese, who cleaned it quickly, and, following Fiona’s instructions, showed it to her.
“You have a beautiful girl, Fiona,” Shaneese told her.
“You and Lorana know what to do,” Fiona entreated, gasping for breath and feeling as though she’d been punched repeatedly. Another contraction rippled through her. She felt so awful that she was glad to know that she’d arranged with Lorana and Shaneese that they would watch over the child if anything happened to her. And, with twins, she was glad that one would be getting immediate maternal attention, leaving her to deal with birthing the second.
“The other one’s getting ready,” Bekka said, feeling gently around Fiona’s tense stomach. “You’re lucky, you might only have another hour.”
“Another hour!” Fiona wailed in dismay. She gestured feebly to Shaneese. “Show me the baby again.”
Smiling, Shaneese brought the baby girl up to her mother. Fiona looked at her, then squeezed Lora
na’s hand for attention. The other woman looked at her.
“Swear to me, both, that you’ll be her mother,” Fiona said.
“Fiona!” Bekka growled.
“Swear as foster-mothers,” Fiona said.
“Nothing’s going to happen to you,” Lorana assured her. “But I claim this child as kin of my heart, blood of my blood, life of my life, for all time.”
“This child is ours,” Shaneese said in agreement. “She shall grow strong with the care of her mothers. I shall call her my own, tend her wounds, cheer her triumphs. Blood of my blood, heart of my heart, life of my life.”
“Thank you,” Fiona breathed with relief. “Kindan, T’mar.”
“I’m here,” Kindan told her, squeezing her hand lightly.
“I’m here,” T’mar said, running his hands over her strained shoulder muscles, soothing them.
A contraction rippled across her belly before she could speak. Kindan gestured to her reassuringly; they had spoken of this long before, he knew what she wanted.
“I claim this child my daughter,” Kindan said formally.
“As dragonrider of Zirenth and Weyrleader, I do claim this girl my own, heart of my heart, blood of my blood, life of my life,” T’mar said.
“I name her my own, heart of my heart, blood of my blood, life of my life,” Kindan concluded.
“Here comes another contraction!” Bekka warned. Fiona yelled as the next contraction rippled through her. Bekka looked up at her sternly. “Shards, Fiona, you’re not even trying!”
“I … am … too!” Fiona swore between breaths. She concentrated on breathing for several moments, then continued in formal tones, “I, Fiona, Weyrwoman of Telgar, do name you, heart of my heart, blood of my blood—oh!”
“Push!” Bekka ordered.
Fiona pushed, even as she squeezed Lorana’s hand imploringly.
“As her mother, I name this child in a mother’s voice: Tiona,” Lorana said even as Fiona bellowed with her next contraction.
“Shaneese, see to her,” Bekka said, nodding toward the baby.
“We’ll be right here, Fiona,” Shaneese assured the Weyrwoman, “so Tiona can meet her sib.”
Fiona didn’t hear her, as another contraction tore through her and she yelled once more, pushing with all her lagging strength.
“Well done,” Bekka said. “The head’s out.” She glanced down and gestured for Kindan to join her before she looked up at Fiona, her eyes full of concern. “I need to get one arm out, I’m going to have to guide it.”
“Tell me what to do,” Fiona said, beads of sweat dotting her forehead, her hair dank and lanky with exertion.
“Until I say otherwise, hold off on pushing,” Bekka said even as she began to ease a hand up through the birth canal to feel for the baby’s arm.
“Okay,” Fiona agreed, leaning back against T’mar and taking slow deep breaths.
“You’re doing fine,” Shaneese assured her. Kindan looked to Bekka for guidance and saw the concern in the younger woman’s eyes.
Javissa came up to take Kindan’s place, bringing a damp cloth that she used to cool Fiona’s head.
“Hold my hand tight,” Javissa told her. She felt Fiona’s hand grip hers tightly in gratitude.
“This is going to hurt,” Bekka warned as she eased her hand over the offending limb. Fiona bellowed in pain. “Good, I’ve got my hand where it needs to be,” Bekka assured her. “When you feel the next contraction, push as hard as you can. And yell like you mean it this time!”
“That won’t be HAAARRRDDD!” Fiona’s shouted as she writhed through another contraction. “AAAHHH!”
Her pain peaked and just as suddenly dropped to a dull, aching throb. She heard a funny sound and Bekka gave a slight yelp of glee.
“Javissa, the knife,” Bekka said. She glanced up at Fiona, her blood-smeared face split in a wide grin. “Congratulations, Fiona, you have a son.”
Fiona made a sound and then found her voice. “Trust a boy to be last.”
And then she fainted.
“You’re fine, your son’s fine, your daughter’s fine,” Bekka assured Fiona the instant she woke up. “You lost a fair amount of blood, but nothing to be worried about.” She paused as she turned a glow halfway to give the cabin some thin illumination. “How do you feel?”
“Sore, thirsty, and full,” Fiona said, even as she noticed how easily she could move and how much it hurt.
“Kimar is here,” Lorana told her quietly.
“Give him to me,” Fiona said urgently. As soon as she had him, he started nursing, much to her relief. “Where’s Tiona?”
“Here,” Kindan said, moving forward with another bundle and guiding her to a good nursing spot.
“Help me sit up,” Fiona said, as she tried to deal with two hungrily nursing babies. Bekka, Kindan, and Lorana rearranged her pillows so that they supported her back, but it wasn’t enough, so Kindan got behind her to provide back support and help hold one of the babies.
“They’re beautiful,” Bekka told her with warmth in her voice. “You did a wonderful job.”
Fiona nodded, not saying anything as she absorbed the painful-pleasant sensation of her two babies as they nursed.
“I’m hungry,” Fiona said suddenly.
“Feed them first,” Bekka advised her. “Then they’ll sleep and you can eat.”
“Why does that sound so much like raising a dragonet?” Fiona asked.
“Well,” Bekka said with a shrug, “it is.”
As the months passed, Fiona found herself yearning for the time when the twins could be weaned. She loved her time with them, even the incessant nursing, but she was restless to get moving, to be seen, to organize things. T’mar twitted her on it. “You’ve got to learn to delegate.”
Lorana took over many of her duties, sliding easily into the role of senior Weyrwoman. Fiona was careful not to overtax her co-mother and set Terin and the other queen riders to helping as much as they could.
Often Fiona would find herself out in the center of the camp, watching the weyrlings drill from her seat, feeling more like a Lord Holder than a Weyrwoman as the babies napped nearby or fed quietly in the shade.
She soon had company, for Shaneese delivered her baby boy right on schedule. Together the two of them exchanged groans about the whole process, smiling at the beautiful babies when they thought no one would notice, and complaining about all their difficulties when they thought someone would.
Between them, Shaneese, Fiona, and the three babies had all the help they could want and soon found themselves strictly rationing it.
Xhinna, Taria, all the queen riders, and the other three women who had Impressed were constantly stopping by, many to coo over the babies and some to look wistfully.
This brought a new concern to Fiona and she and Shaneese spent much of their time working out plans to handle the babies they expected might soon join theirs. The women riders realized that as their dragonets were growing to soon join the fighting ranks, this was the best time for them to have their children and get their families started. The queen riders were less keen.
Of them all, Terin was the least happy. She was thrilled at Fiona’s joy, hugged her friend and helped with the babies, being certain to exercise Jeriz’s talents with diapers as well as honing her own, but Fiona could see the younger woman’s sadness rise nearly day by day as Terin dwelled more and more on her loss.
“It’s what she cannot have, that’s why she wants it so much,” Shaneese declared when she and Fiona talked about it one day. The babies were crawling around in the specially constructed play area, filled with sand and lined with rocks.
“Maybe she’s just beginning to realize that F’jian won’t be coming when she needs him,” Fiona said, shaking her head sadly.
“We should start planning the nursery,” Shaneese said, changing the subject.
“A nursery?” Fiona repeated, surprised. “That seems a bit grand for just our three.”
“They won’t
be alone for much longer,” Shaneese reminded her with a grin. “Some of the green riders have been inspired by our example.”
“Who?”
“All of them except Taria,” Shaneese said. “Helena has been working on J’gerd for months now and, from her smug look, she’s succeeded.”
“And Vellany?” Fiona asked, referring to the sturdily built green rider who had surprised everyone when she’d Impressed Delanth, as she’d seemed the least interested of all the Weyr’s young women. She’d been far more interested in spending time with J’gerd and other riders, so it was no surprise when Shaneese continued, “She finally managed to get J’keran to stay awake long enough.”
“Are you sure?” Fiona asked, peering out from under their shade, trying to locate the woman among the drilling weyrlings.
“Bekka is,” Shaneese said. Bekka’s ability to spot a pregnancy early was so well-known throughout their camp that some of the women had taken to avoiding her for fear that she would suddenly fix them with her knowing look.
“And Seriya?” Seriya was a shy sort with large eyes set alluringly in a delicate face.
Shaneese laughed. “V’lex!”
“Really? How?”
“I have no idea,” Shaneese admitted. “And I’m not certain how she managed to keep V’lex from pining after J’gerd long enough to—” She stopped, shaking her head in amusement. “V’lex is beside himself with joy and J’gerd—”
“That could cause trouble,” Fiona said, peering off into the distance thoughtfully.
Fiona remembered to mention it to T’mar and Kindan as they stopped by for lunch. Tied to the babies as they were, Fiona and Shaneese had taken over as much of the cooking as they could, aided by Jirana, Javissa, and whoever else was detailed to them for the day.
“Ho, so that’s what’s going on!” T’mar chuckled when he heard. “I’ve seen the way they’ve been looking at each other.”
“And?”
“And they’ll sort it out,” T’mar told her. “Seriya, for all her shyness, is a sweet person who gets what she wants.”
“It might be a problem,” Kindan said. T’mar glanced at him and he explained, “Well, their dragons will be just old enough to start flying when they’re either most pregnant or have just given birth.”
Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern Page 27
