The children had reached the lean-to porch of the Harper’s so-called Hall and were all busy scraping mud off their boots. They would not bring any mud into the Hall and have to clean it up later. Ruart insisted on high standards of tidiness. The porch, which was broad enough to accommodate the Hold’s children during fair weather, was their favorite place for lessons, but as today was raw and cold, with a clammy mist in the air, they’d have to remain inside.
Inside, the “Hall” had been enlarged from the original limestone cave. A ledge against one wall provided a bench, all too often as cold as the rock behind it, for the smaller children to sit on. Another alcove was Harper Ruart’s private quarters, screened from the main room by one of Orla’s beautiful screens, its panels woven of fragrant reeds and grasses, which still faintly scented the stone room. The screen also doubled as a wall on which to hang the drawings of Ruart’s students. Everyone in Lado Hold was certain that Orla was going to be a fine artist—probably the only one ever to go forward from Lado to an Artist’s Hall. Her skillful drawings stood out vividly, compared to the scrawls and scenes by the other students.
The youngest children sat on their ledge; niches had been carved out below the seating to shelve their books and slates. Two fine wooden tables allowed the older students a proper surface for writing and figuring. Ruart had a splendid desk made of the local woods, with a series of drawers on each side in which he kept records and texts that were rare, and thus too valuable to be left out. Behind him, a slab of black slate had been cleverly attached to the smoothest part of the limestone wall. On this he could write and display whatever the day’s lessons might be.
At sixteen Turns old and soon to be apprenticed to learn a trade, Neru, Nian, Orla, Flamel, and Chaum were the oldest, if not the most advanced, students. Journeyman Ruart had high hopes for the twins and Orla, but the other two boys would undoubtedly perfect adult skills in the plantations and fields that surrounded Lado Hold.
The journeyman harper was about to take the roll call when wild shrieks and yells interrupted.
“Dragons, dragons!”
Journeyman Ruart was as startled as his class. Someone pounded up the steps and rapped on his door, shouting urgently.
“The dragons come on Search!”
The room erupted with noise as the children jostled for the door and a closer look at the magnificent dragons. Almost every child on Pern, at one time or another, dreamed of flying a-dragonback.
Ruart clapped his hands together and shouted at the children. “Settle! Settle now, children! You’ll all be allowed out to see the dragons on Search, but not a one of you will do so in an unfitting manner!” He lowered his voice when this threat had the desired effect.
“Of course, you all know that there is an age requirement for being Searched,” he continuted slowly and deliberately. “You little ones will have to stay at the back.” His hands made a shooing gesture. “Now let us all proceed outside in a quiet and orderly fashion. No pushing.”
Two green dragons and one beautifully sea-blue dragon had fitted themselves on Lado’s little Gather clearing in front of the main Hold. Lord Lado and his lady, Cirine, hastily smoothing her apron, were already outside to greet the arrivals. Ruart skillfully motioned his class to form ranks across the roadway.
“We come on Search,” the blue rider said formally, dismounting with an athletic grace that Neru admired. Nian glanced nervously at her twin. Would his dream come true today? Would he be Searched by the dragons? Was this the last she’d see of her “other half” until who knew when?
“I am R’dik, blue Shalanth’s rider, and here are Sarty, green Ledith’s rider and Conna, who rides Oswith.”
Beside her Ru shuffled his feet, swung his arms, and all but nominated himself out of hand as a candidate. She pinched his sleeve to remind him of his manners. Giving her a cross look, he nevertheless subsided. Just as he protected her against physical danger, she protected him from making social errors.
“Search, and be welcome, R’dik,” Lord Lado replied, equally formally. “The youngsters of our Hold are all available to you and your dragons.” He gestured to those ranked in front of him, all breathless with suspense. “The Hold is greatly honored by your Search. I hear that Clidith clutched thirty-two eggs.”
“Yes. They are near to being Hatched, and we would like to provide the Weyr with plenty of choices,” he said, with a bow that swept from Lado around to the children, who bowed back. He smiled encouragingly at them. “We are looking for those who are fourteen Turns or older,” he announced. “For, as you all know, we are in a Pass and need to have riders who are fit and able to join the fighting wings as soon as the hatchlings grow strong enough to fly.”
Ruart adroitly directed his disappointed younger students to sit out of the way, on the Hold steps, while the older ones ranked beside him to brave the Search. While he thought Chaum might make a good, if unimaginative, rider, he devoutly hoped that the bullying Flamel, who had straightened up as if he was certain of being chosen, would be totally ignored. Neru, he knew, wanted desperately to be a dragonrider; perhaps both twins might be selected. Ruart had never heard of twins being made riders at the same Hatching, but oh, how that would solve the problem of separating Neru and Nian! He caught a glimpse of Palla, the twins’ mother, among the crowd now assembling outside the Hold to watch the dragons on Search. Her youngest child, Niall, was in her arms, waving at his older brother and sister.
After a thorough inspection of the waiting teenagers, Ledith and Oswith picked Orla and Chaum out of the crowd. Then they approached Nian, sniffing at her and giving her little prods with their noses. She was made a little nervous by this close inspection, and she grabbed her brother’s hand. The dragons didn’t seem one bit interested in Neru. Nian heard her mother gasp as she, too, saw the dragons overlook her eager, would-be dragonrider son.
How could this be happening? Neru thought of nothing but dragons and fighting Thread. How could they overlook him and show such interest in her, when Nian had never once entertained the thought of dragons except for her brother’s sake? This is a bad situation, she thought. If they take me on Search and leave Ru behind, I’ll have deserted him and stolen his dream all in the same moment. I can’t let this happen!
Unconsciously Nian shifted her weight toward her brother, changing her stance from that of protected to protector. She had to make them take Ru with her—but how?
The green dragon, Ledith, turned to Oswith as if in consultation. Then Conna stepped to her dragon as if summoned to her side.
She is very strong! Oswith told her rider. I can hear her, Conna. But she will not go without him.
Remaining at Oswith’s side, Conna looked at the twins. “What is your name?” she asked Nian.
“Neru and Nian,” the twins chorused in unison.
“It’s certainly unanimous,” the blue rider said, a wide smile on his tanned face. He slapped his riding gauntlets against his thigh. “Ah, I see that you are twins.”
“Yes, blue rider, we are, though my sister is the elder,” Neru said as Nian still gripped his hand tightly. By the First Egg! Neru hoped that the dragons would select him, too. But what if it were Nian, not he, Neru, who was taken on Search? What if he never had the chance to fulfill his dream? He simply couldn’t—wouldn’t—think about it. Neru decided that his best plan was no plan at all. He’d just have to wait and see what happened to him.
“Have you ever been separated from each other?” Sarty asked, startling everyone.
“No, rider Sarty,” Neru replied.
“We’re just better together at everything,” Nian added stoutly.
Which, as the holders and Ruart knew, was true enough.
Conna gave a little sniff. “Well, we’ll see what the dragons decide,” she said. “Are your parents here?”
“I am their mother, Palla. Their father has not yet returned from the morning’s fishing,” Palla said, moving through the crowd toward the dragonriders and the possible candidates.
“But my son has shown more interest in becoming a dragonrider, while Nian never has. How can such a choice be made?”
“It sometimes happens. The green dragons know these things and, despite riding Oswith nearly thirty Turns now, I have never figured out how she discerns rider potential.”
“But they would be separated so soon, too soon!” said Palla, tears starting to form in her eyes.
“Oh, Mother,” Neru mumbled in embarrassed exasperation, hoping that only his twin heard him. Nian squeezed his fingers.
“They would soon be separated anyway, would they not?” asked Conna kindly.
At that moment Nian made up her mind. She had never thought of being a dragonrider, but now that she had been Searched, and the possibility existed, she would certainly do her best to try and make her brother’s dream come true.
“Em, pardon me, dragonriders,” she squawked, and had to pause to clear the little frog that had crept up into her throat and made her croak. She continued. “If I may? No one else from my family will be able to attend the Hatching and, should I Impress a dragon, I’d like to have a family member nearby. Could my brother not come with me now?” Squeezing Ru’s hand tightly, she looked at the dragons and their riders beseechingly, and willed it to happen with all her might. Neru squeezed her hand back and held his breath. He knew that dragonriders’ families were allowed to visit the Weyr, particularly on special occasions. But would they let him come now?
Conna paused a moment and looked at her dragon, lost in a telepathic conversation.
The boy is strong but his twin shields him from me, Oswith said to her rider. I cannot see his potential clearly. It is strange. Perhaps he should come along as a candidate, too.
“Oswith is undecided about Neru as a candidate, but we will bring him with us regardless,” Conna said finally. Both twins let out their breath in a rush. “Never fear, Nian, your brother will remain with you until the Hatching. There is, however, no guarantee that any of those selected on Search will Impress; the hatchlings make that decision.”
“Oh!” Palla clasped both her hands to her throat. “But the dragons seemed so interested in Nian.” Her eyes were wide with concern.
Ledith seemed to sneeze. “We can never guarantee,” Sarty repeated equably, “but Ledith is rarely wrong.”
“Whichever,” Holder Lado said brusquely. Kind as he was, he was not fond of long, drawn-out farewells. “Now, run along and pack what you need to take with you. Don’t keep these dragonriders waiting—they may have other places to Search.”
Looking pleased that Lado Hold could offer the Weyr four possible dragonriders, he flapped his hands at those selected—Neru and Nian, Orla and Chaum—to be off to their holds, and then gestured to Ruart to take his charges back to the Hall for their lessons. Then a holder woman appeared with hot mugs of klah and the best wineglasses full of a red that Lado had imported from Benden especially for such occasions.
The two women riders reached for the klah, but R’dik took a glass of wine and, sipping respectfully, made approving noises as he swallowed, nodding with appreciation to the Holder.
At their family hold, Palla stuffed clean underclothes and socks into a worn leather carryall for Neru and tossed Nian a canvas bag made from old sail, all the while protesting that they really had nothing suitable to be seen in a Weyr. Nian neatly folded her Gather dress, and Neru’s fine Gather shirt, which she had embroidered for him, and reached for their worn winter jackets. Everyone knew that going between was very cold. She found her knitted cap, but not Ru’s, and then saw the bobble of it extruding from one of his jacket pockets. They had only their heavy boots, since once the weather was warm enough, everyone on Ista Island usually went about barefoot. All too quickly they were ready and Palla hugged them both, tears streaming down her face.
“We’re not going to our deaths, Mother,” Neru said, embarrassed though there was only family to see her make such a display.
“Will you let me ride your dragon, Ni?” Niall asked his older sister.
“If I Impress I surely will,” Nian replied kindly.
“Dragonriders are always very generous about giving rides, but not by yourself,” Ru added.
They heard a most unusual sound outside, almost a growl. Niall ran to the window.
“There’re two dragons waiting outside!” he announced excitedly.
Nian kissed her mother several times, carefully blotting the tears on her face. “We will be back, you know,” she said. “It’d be no trouble at all to drop in any time we can.” Though she was not at all sure she’d be a dragonrider, she was determined to think positively. Especially about Ru. No matter how things turned out for her, Neru must Impress.
Palla followed them to the door, saw them being shown how to mount the green dragons, and ended up waving and weeping as the dragons flung themselves into the sky and disappeared with her children.
It was very cold, Nian thought, daring to press back against Conna for warmth.
“Don’t be afraid, Nian,” the dragonrider said in her ear. “Now, we are going between, so take a deep breath, and by the time you have counted to eight we will be back in the sunshine and circling over Ista Weyr. Ready? Start counting now!”
Between was cold; colder than anything Nian had ever experienced. It was also very dark between, which she should have remembered from the ballads Ruart had so diligently taught his students. The song came to her mind—“Black, blacker, blackest”—and then, just as Conna had said, they were suddenly warmed by the bright morning sun and circling down to land at Ista Weyr. The last time the twins had come for a Gather here, they had sailed in her father’s boat. From above, Ista didn’t look as big as Nian had remembered, but it was still bigger than Lado Hold.
There were people to welcome them and Nian tried to maintain her newly found confidence and not hide behind Ru who, as ever, spoke for both of them.
“I’m Kilpie, in charge of the Lower Caverns,” announced an older, slightly stout lady whose sun-streaked blond hair was neatly braided and coiled around her head. She had a stern mouth, but her eyes were welcoming and alight with good humor.
“Come, I shall show you candidates where you will be staying. And you can meet the others whom the dragons have Searched for the Hatching. Which, I might add, won’t be long now. Come along. When I’ve shown you around,” she added, shooing them all in front of her, “you are to come back here for a snack. There’s always something to eat for hungry riders. We keep klah, soup, or porridge warm all day and all night.” She pointed to a small hearth at the far end of the cavern where, indeed, pots sat at the back, keeping warm. “And fresh bread when it’s ready.”
Ru grinned at his sister. He was always hungry, now that he was growing tall and filling out his bones. Pretty soon he’d be taller than Nian.
The main kitchen cavern of Ista Weyr was immense, and some of the stalactites had been left in place as if holding up its stony roof. Along the outside wall, with chimneys built in to take cooking odors out of the huge room, were the hearths and ovens, just like the kitchen in Lado’s much smaller hold. But here some of the hearths were enormous, and the heat they gave off would be intolerable in full summer, Nian thought. Would she and Neru both be there in full summer? Tables and chairs were placed around the main dining area, with a platform for the head table where the Weyrleaders would dine with guests. She hoped candidates were not considered “guests.” Everyone would be looking at them, and Nian did not like to be the object of scrutiny. It made her conscious of herself and her plain looks.
Kilpie led them down a broad corridor and into another wide cavern. This was on two levels, a passage leading to curtained alcoves and steps down to a living area filled with comfortable chairs, tables, and storage chests. She pointed to the curtained passage that led to the baths and
necessaries.
“And we expect everyone living in the Weyr to be clean for breakfast and dinner every day. Now, there will be empty sleeping alcoves along here, unless people have been changing about, but pick one that doesn’t look occupied and you’ll be all right if your bags are displayed. I’ve put a white candidate’s robe in every alcove, so that you’ll all have them to hand.”
“Are there many of us candidates?” Orla asked.
“Forty, so far,” Kilpie said. “And more coming in, as we have thirty-two eggs and wish to give the hatchlings ample choice.”
“But how will we know when the Hatching starts?” Neru asked, wondering how quickly he could get his robe on and make it to the Hatching Ground on time. Thirty-two eggs and more than forty candidates to stand. Well, even if the dragons hadn’t picked him outright, he would remain positive. He just had to Impress his very own dragon!
Kilpie regarded him a long moment. “The dragons begin to hum a welcome to the hatchlings. As soon as you hear them, drop everything and change into the white robe and present yourself at the Hatching Ground.” She pointed to the opening at the far end of the living area. Crouching down a bit and looking in that direction, Nian could see the great arch of the Hatching Ground entrance directly across the Bowl of Ista Weyr. “There will also be a lot of coming and going as guests are brought in. And your parents, if they have chosen to come to the Hatching.” She made a noise halfway between a snort and a sigh. “So, go along now,” she said, gesturing to the alcoves, “and settle yourselves in. Then come back to the main cavern. I believe there’re sweet buns and cool fruit juice or klah waiting for you.”
The promise of food had the newly selected candidates immediately rushing toward the curtains, peeking past them to find the untaken alcoves.
Neru and Nian, with an unspoken thought, moved to the far end and chose alcoves side by side. Orla and Chaum followed their lead; Orla’s eyes were bright with curiosity, and Chaum, who was rarely excited by anything, still kept close to those he knew.
A Gift of Dragons Page 14