Sky Dragons Dragonriders of Pern

by Anne McCaffrey

  “I’m not so sure,” Nerra said after a moment. She caught Xhinna’s look and added, “Oh, I agree with you in general, but, for example, you mentioned that you might be back again. Riding on Search?”

  “Perhaps.”

  “So it would help if I could have an idea as to when you’d come and how many Candidates you might need,” Nerra said. She saw that her comment had struck home and added, “And it would help if I could know how many to expect back.”

  “I see,” Xhinna said, her lips pursed thoughtfully. A moment later she answered, “We don’t really know at the moment.”

  “Thousands, if we’re lucky,” Jirana piped up.

  “Thousands?” Nerra repeated, eyes going wide.

  “Jirana!”

  This time the little girl was unrepentant. “She has to know. If this is going to work, they’re going to have to come from somewhere.”

  “Somewhen,” Nerra said, a smile playing across her lips as she saw the surprise in Xhinna’s eyes. Her smile faded and she asked, “Is it very bad, where you come from?”

  “It will get better when we get those thousands,” Xhinna said.

  Nerra nodded absently; her gaze had settled on Jirana and she was searching the girl’s features questioningly. “You look familiar.”

  “We haven’t met,” Jirana said.

  “You’re trader stock, you said as much,” Nerra said almost to herself. Her eyes lost focus as she delved into her memory, and then they widened as she looked again at the girl sitting before her. “Are you related to Tenniz?”

  “You can’t say anything, my lady!” Jirana said pleadingly. “He doesn’t know, please don’t tell him!” She paused a moment, then said in a lower voice, “Your word as Lady Holder.”

  “But I’m not a Lady Holder.”

  “Yet,” Xhinna said.

  Nerra turned to her, mouth agape, and sat back in her chair. “The Conclave would never—”

  Xhinna said nothing, nor did Jirana. The look on their faces alone was enough.

  “But D’gan—” Nerra started again, and then closed her mouth once more as new thoughts stifled her. She was silent for a long while. Finally, she turned to Xhinna and asked in a whisper, “Thousands?”

  Xhinna nodded. She told Tazith, You should land and get some rest. We’ll be flying again at nightfall. Aloud, she said, “I’ve told Tazith to get some rest.”

  Nerra nodded, still distracted by her wild thoughts. A moment later, with a decisive sweep of her hand, as if pushing her thoughts aside, she sat up and said, “What’s it like, riding a dragon?”

  “You’ll find out tonight, my lady,” Xhinna replied.

  “Until then, perhaps you’d like to rest,” Nerra said, rising from her chair and beckoning them toward the exit.

  “That’s a good idea,” Jirana agreed with a wide yawn. “We’ve been timing it.”

  “Jirana!”

  Xhinna woke and it was a moment before she recalled that she was in the tent that Nerra had assigned them. In the cot beside her, Jirana snored softly.

  Tazith? Xhinna asked, stretching her senses toward him.

  Night has fallen, the blue dragon replied easily.

  We’ll be going soon, Xhinna assured him.

  Voices outside the tent caught her ear.

  “They could be spies,” a man said in protest.

  “If they are spies, then the dragon would have given us away already,” a woman—Nerra—said in reply.

  “Four won’t be near enough if there’s treachery,” Jefric—Xhinna now placed his voice—said.

  “I’ll have my crossbow,” Nerra said. “If there’s treachery, she’ll die.”

  Xhinna made a loud noise, leapt from the cot, and stormed out to face them.

  “There won’t be any treachery,” she declared, glancing angrily at the lady holder. “You won’t need a crossbow.”

  “The towers are full of guards—she shouldn’t even go,” Jefric said hotly.

  The tent flap twitched and Jirana stepped out. She gave Jefric a dirty look, then said to Nerra, “Leave your weapons behind, my lady.”

  “What?” Jefric said, aghast.

  “The power of your words alone will win your victory.”

  Nerra frowned, then turned to Jefric. “She’s right,” she said firmly. “If I’m to rule, then I need to rule with my voice.”

  “Your voice won’t open the gates, my lady,” Jefric protested.

  “I wouldn’t be so sure,” Xhinna said, reaching a hand down to ruffle Jirana’s hair.

  When they were airborne, Jirana staying reluctantly behind, Jefric leaned forward from behind Xhinna and growled into her ear, “If anything happens to my lady, I’ll kill you.”

  “If anything happens to her, it won’t matter what you do to me,” Xhinna replied.

  Jefric was silent for a moment as he thought about what she’d said, then grunted reluctantly.

  “The high tower, over there,” he said, pointing.

  “No, the courtyard below,” Nerra called from her position in front of Xhinna. “If your little friend is right, that’s where I’ll get my support.”

  Xhinna nodded and instructed Tazith to land.

  “One thing, my lady,” she said as they closed with the ground.

  “What?”

  “It would be best if it did not become general knowledge that a woman rides a blue,” Xhinna said.

  “Very well,” Nerra said after a moment. “Your voice is low enough that most will consider you a young man. Keep your helmet and jacket on, and none will see except what they expect to see.”

  “That will work?”

  Nerra laughed. “If it doesn’t, it’ll be the least of our worries!”

  Quite on his own, as soon as they touched the ground in the courtyard, the blue let out a huge bellow, startling and alerting everyone in the courtyard.

  “Now you’ve done it!” Jefric swore, sliding off the blue and drawing his sword in one fluid moment.

  Nerra dropped to the ground in front of him and turned, raising her hand. “Sheathe your sword.”

  The other two guards took up positions on either side of her, glancing warily as the courtyard came to life.

  Tazith bellowed again, his voice echoing around the courtyard and into the Hold beyond.

  Xhinna vaulted from his neck and moved toward the others in time to see Nerra straighten her shoulders and say something to herself. Xhinna thought she was quoting Jirana: “Your words alone.”

  Catching sight of Xhinna, Nerra said, “Your blue is welcome to perch on the tower.”

  Xhinna nodded and relayed the order to Tazith, who bellowed once more, added a warbling chirp of pleasure, then leapt into the night sky, beating his way easily up to the nearest of the courtyard gate towers.

  With a nod, Nerra turned away from the Hold and toward the gates. She walked easily, ignoring the clatter of guards assembling behind her.

  A guard moved from the gates toward her.

  “Tormic!” Nerra called cheerfully. “I know the hour is late, but please open the gates.”

  “Nerra?” the man said in surprise. He glanced around her, saw Jefric and the other two, then looked up to see Tazith peering down from the tower.

  “Yes,” she said. “I would like the gates opened, if you please.”

  Tormic’s eyes widened and he seemed to be struggling to find an answer.

  “If you’d like, I’m sure Jefric and Nerritor would help,” Nerra said, motioning to the men behind her.

  “But—but—”

  “Tormic, our people need us—they need our aid,” Nerra said, looking the man straight in the eyes. “It is time for Crom to Hold once more.”

  Tormic braced at her words and bowed once, deeply, before turning around and bellowing, “Open the gates!”

  Nerra made a restraining gesture with her fingers to Jefric and the other guards, ordering them to maintain their positions as she moved forward with Tormic.

  “Good evening, Jave
nnor, I see you’ve drawn the short straw again,” she said to the nearest guard. When he returned her gaze with astonishment, she asked, “What happened, did you bet on the wrong horse?”

  Tormic stifled a laugh even as Javennor’s eyes grew wider.

  “We need the gates open, if you please,” Nerra said. “Or would you rather the dragon help?”

  Javennor’s wide eyes strayed to Tazith above him and, jerking his head in a quick negative, he turned with Tormic toward the gates.

  As simply as that, the gates swung open, revealing the resolute-looking group of Nerra’s men waiting beyond. Nerra called out to them, “Crom Hold, form ranks!”

  In an aside to Tormic and the other gate guards, she added, “That means you, too.”

  The gate guards hesitantly joined the armed band moving in from outside. Nerra stood in front of them for a long moment until she was satisfied that the ranks were properly dressed, then said to Jefric, “I shall meet my brother now.”

  As the group marched by Xhinna, Nerra beckoned to her with an arm. “I’d like you to witness this, dragonrider.”

  Xhinna dipped her head. “Of course, my lady,” she said, trying to deepen her voice to sound like that of a young man.

  Together they marched to the Hold entrance. Jefric nodded to Tormic and the two stood at either side, pushing the double doors open.

  Nerra walked straight to the end of the great hall and sat on the chair in the center of the raised dais there. She turned to Jefric. “Please invite Fenril to join us.”

  It took a while to find Fenril and, based on the sounds coming from outside the hall, a certain amount of force, as well. At last he entered in stained nightclothes, one arm pinned behind his back by Jefric.

  “I found him in the drudges’ quarters, my lady,” Jefric said, his voice filled with deadly rage. His mouth worked for a moment as he fought for words. “He was, ah, entertaining.”

  “Brother?” Nerra said, glancing at the man standing before her. “Would you care to explain?”

  Fenril whimpered, but said nothing.

  Nerra flicked her gaze away from him, eyes blazing. It was a long moment before she could bring herself to look once more at him and say, “Brother, why is it that the people of our Hold have been denied the food they harvested, the food saved for such a terrible Plague as the one that passed through us nearly two Turns back?”

  “Still,” Fenril mumbled.

  “Pardon?”

  “Still Plague,” Fenril said defiantly.

  Nerra turned to Tormic. “Is this true?”

  Tormic reddened as he stammered, “M-my Lady, Lord Fenril said that the Plague was outside the Hold, that we were in danger—”

  “Not so,” Nerra said, cutting him short. “No Plague, except for that of empty bellies, starving people. And that ends now.”

  “Our stores are running low,” Tormic said.

  “We’ll share what we have,” Nerra said. “There are farms desperate for seed—seed that should have come from the Hold.” She turned back to Fenril. “Father, with his dying words, set upon me the charge of this Hold. You have denied it for these past two Turns and our people have starved from your neglect. What say you?”

  “I—I—,” Fenril stammered, shaking his head. “Not right. D’gan would never support—”

  “It is up to the Conclave of Lord Holders to confirm a Lord Holder, not a Weyrleader,” Nerra told him sternly. She waved to one of her guards, who moved to place a restraining arm on Fenril’s shoulder. “Until that time, brother, you will be kept under guard—”

  “On what charge?”

  “Treason,” Nerra told him calmly. “To the holders in your charge, to your father, and to me.” She nodded at the guard. Paying no attention to Fenril’s gabbled protests as he was led away, she turned to Tormic. “I need to see the Storemaster soonest.”

  “Food,” Jefric prompted in a quiet voice.

  Nerra’s eyebrow rose as she added, “And I’m informed that we could do with something to eat.” She gave Tormic an apologetic shrug. “I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night.”

  “That’s all right, my lady,” Tormic replied. “The lads and I were getting rather bored.”

  “Well, we wouldn’t want that!” Nerra laughed. “As soon as I hear from the Storemaster, I’ll need you to lead a wagon with supplies down to the camp.”

  “Blue rider,” Nerra said as she pored over the Hold Records arrayed on the Great Hall’s large table some three hours later, “if I could impose on you again, there are some in my camp who need nourishment and can’t walk on their own.”

  “Tazith can carry only a small number,” Xhinna said, still careful to keep her voice low.

  “I know,” Nerra said with a weary sigh. “Just do the best you can.” She nodded toward Jefric. “I’ll need you to go with the blue rider, to organize things.”

  “My place is at your side, my lady!” he protested.

  “I’m sure that Tormic here will fill your position for the moment,” Nerra said, glancing significantly at her guardsman. “And you’re the only one who can manage the camp.”

  Jefric lowered his head in reluctant agreement. He raised a hand toward Xhinna. “Blue rider?”

  They made their way out of the Great Hall to find Tazith already in the courtyard, eager to be stretching his wings once more.

  “She’ll be all right,” Xhinna assured the worried guard as they rose into the air.

  “And you would know because you’re from the future?” Jefric guessed.

  “That should not become known to many,” Xhinna replied. “My little friend will tell you that it’s dangerous to know too much of the future.”

  “And why is that?”

  “Because one can make grave errors,” Xhinna said.

  “Like leaving my lady behind on her own?”

  “In this case, I really do think she is safe,” Xhinna said. Her lips curved upward. “And I notice that you did not protest too much.”

  Jefric grunted. “ ’Tis true. I’ve known Tormic for most of his life. He’s an honest lad.”

  Xhinna was about to respond when Tazith abruptly descended, landing them gently, if quickly, on the ground beside the camp’s main tent.

  “Why didn’t you bring me?” Jirana’s voice broke the silence of the night, and they saw her small shape dart forward from one of the tents. “I was so worried!”

  “You were tired and Tazith could only carry so many,” Xhinna said, grabbing Jirana and hauling her into her arms for a comforting hug. Jirana made a face, pushing back and making it clear that she wanted to be let down.

  Back on her feet once more, the young trader girl said, “Well, it’s okay. I spent the time well.” She glanced up at Jefric. “Did everything work out?”

  “Exactly as you predicted, little one,” Jefric said with a respectful nod.

  “I didn’t predict, I—” Jirana slapped a hand over her mouth and glared furiously at the old guard.

  “ ‘Timing it,’ ” Jefric said, leaning down so that his words only carried among the three of them. “It did not take us long to understand what that meant.”

  “The future isn’t certain,” Jirana said quickly. “You must never rely on it—”

  “Even if you come from it?” Jefric asked her with a smile. He shook his head. “Regardless, everything went as you predicted. Crom Hold has its rightful ruler once more.”

  “Good, because there are many who are starving here,” Jirana said. Jefric nodded; this was no news to him. “I talked with some of them already.” She glanced up toward Xhinna. “How many can Tazith carry? There are some here who are so starved they can’t walk.”

  “That’s what we came back for,” Xhinna told her.

  “Good,” Jirana said. She grabbed Xhinna’s hand and pulled her along. “I’ve had the first group collected at our sleeping tent.” She looked up at Jefric. “Can you get some of the fitter folk to help us carry them?”

  “Immediately,” Jefric
said, giving the young girl a look of respect.

  “And when you come back, we’ll need glows,” Jirana said. “Also, if you could bring back warm soup, not too thick—”

  “Is that wise?”

  “The headwoman here says so,” Jirana said.

  “You’ve met the headwoman?” Jefric asked in surprise.

  “I have,” Jirana allowed. “But we were busy with those worst off; we didn’t get much chance to talk—”

  “Oh, there you are!” an older woman’s voice called out from the darkness. “It’s about time!”

  “There was the Hold to recover,” Jefric said defensively.

  “And how long did that take?” the woman demanded. “I can hardly think that Lady Nerra spent the last several hours partying.” The woman who left the shadows was much the same age as Jefric; shorter, but not by much. She turned toward Xhinna. “And you, blue rider, what’s your excuse?”

  Before Xhinna could draw breath to reply, Jefric waved a hand toward the woman, saying, “May I introduce you to my wife, Elsith?”

  “Elsith?” Jirana repeated in surprise. “It sounds like a dragon’s name.”

  “It’s a perfectly respectable name,” Elsith retorted. “And I’ve yet to hear of a dragon who’s taken it.” With a snort, she added, “Though I don’t doubt I’d let her, if it came to that. Names can be shared, more’s the honor.”

  “Delighted to meet you, Elsith,” Xhinna said, extending a hand.

  Elsith’s brows narrowed as she took Xhinna’s hand. “It’s coarse enough, but it’s not a man’s hand.” She moved forward and peered up at Xhinna. “And you’re riding a blue?”

  “We’d prefer to keep that among ourselves,” Jefric warned.

  “Crom knows how to keep quiet,” Elsith said firmly. “And if we don’t move these people soon, more of them will be silenced forever.”

  Jefric quickly organized a group of men to move the most sick to Tazith who, with Xhinna riding and eyeing her charges carefully, flew back to the courtyard.

  Javennor and a group of guards were there to take charge as soon as the laden dragon arrived. No sooner had Xhinna lowered the last sick person to the ground than she and Tazith were airborne once more, heading back for another load.