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Sky Dragons Dragonriders of Pern

Page 23

by Anne McCaffrey


  “I’ll be a parent,” Xhinna said.

  “There’s Taria’s child,” X’lerin agreed soothingly.

  “No, I’ll be a parent myself,” Xhinna told him. She smiled at his look and added, “I’ve got a proper father in mind for my child—he just doesn’t know it yet.”

  “And so you’re waiting for the right time?” he guessed. “A mating flight, perhaps?”

  “Perhaps,” Xhinna agreed lightly. “Now if we’re done here, I’d best do the rounds.”

  “I’ll come with you,” X’lerin offered.

  Xhinna raised a hand, turning around to tell him, “If you don’t mind, Weyrleader, I’d much prefer it if you and your riders would get us dinner.”

  X’lerin chuckled and held up his hands in surrender, then started toward his Kivith. As he climbed onto the bronze’s back, he called down, “You should get some rest, Wingleader.”

  “I will when you do, Weyrleader!” she called back in the same teasing tone.

  X’lerin shook his head, did a graceful bow in his seat, and urged the bronze dragon skyward in pursuit of the evening’s meal.

  In the end, it was Alimma who got Xhinna to rest. They had made it through another night and Xhinna was drinking klah to keep awake, mumbling to X’lerin about the day’s patrols, when the blue rider came to her.

  “Excuse me, X’lerin, I need to talk to the wingleader,” Alimma said, grabbing the cloth of Xhinna’s tunic and tugging her away.

  “Let go!” Xhinna said, batting at Alimma’s hand.

  “No,” the blue rider said. “You need rest.”

  “What are you saying?” Xhinna asked. “I’ve got work to do, we’ve got to—”

  “Xhinna,” Alimma said sharply, “everyone’s looking to you—you know that.” Xhinna nodded, opening her mouth for a fresh protest, but the other blue rider held up a hand, saying, “Hear me out, please.”

  Xhinna fumed, then nodded. She’d hear the girl out and then she’d give her a piece of her mind.

  “Everyone’s looking to you,” Alimma said again. “And you know that many are looking for you to fail.”

  “That’s why I—”

  Alimma cut her off with her hand again. “That’s why you’ve got to rest,” she said. “You’re unraveling, and it’s affecting the rest of us.” She gestured around her and Xhinna noticed that the other four blue and green riders of Coranth’s first clutch were there, too. “It’s affecting everyone in the Weyr. Jepara’s worried, Bekka’s been crying, Jirana only talks to her egg.”

  “I know, I know, I—”

  “Shh!” Alimma said, raising a finger to her lips. “You rest; we’ll take it from here.”

  “But X’lerin—”

  “He knows what we’re doing—that’s why he let me take you away from him so easily,” Alimma said. “R’ney’s got the first room finished at the stone hall and it’s quiet there. We’ve set a bed up for you.” Xhinna tried to protest again, but Alimma spoke over her. “I promise we’ll have someone with you who will wake you the instant there’s a problem we can’t handle.”

  “But it’s light out!” Xhinna exclaimed, gesturing to the rising sun.

  “It’s daytime, and you haven’t slept more than a wink in the past seven,” Alimma said. “Bekka’s waiting for you; she’s got a drink to help you sleep.”

  “Fellis juice,” Xhinna said, making a face. “I hate it—”

  “Please,” Danirry said, stepping forward from the others and touching Xhinna on the shoulder softly. “You promised to take care of us, so let us take care of you this once.”

  Xhinna nodded, still reluctant. At the new Stone Hold, R’ney greeted her, and Bekka smiled when she saw her, insisting on tucking her into bed personally.

  “Drink up,” the blond healer said, handing her a glass. “Let me know how it tastes when you wake.”

  It tasted good, much to Xhinna’s surprise. And the bed was warm: There’d been a warming stone in it moments before she arrived, she was certain. The blankets warmed her further, and there was a long, soft pillow running along the wall like another person keeping her company. She dropped her head and an arm onto it, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

  THIRTEEN

  Attack from Beneath

  “They’re back,” someone said in the darkness. It was a male voice: R’ney.

  Xhinna stirred and turned over, reluctantly releasing the long body pillow that had comforted her for—how long had she slept?

  “You’ve been asleep for a day and a half,” R’ney told her.

  She smelled fresh klah and warm rolls; those scents and the sound of liquid spilling into a mug inspired her to propel herself from lying on her side to sitting upright. R’ney chuckled as he extended the mug into her outstretched hands.

  “By the shell of Tazith, R’ney, you are a true friend.” Xhinna sighed as she sipped the marvelous warm liquid down.

  R’ney’s chuckle became a laugh and he turned a glow; when she blinked in the sudden light, he said apologetically, “You need to see to butter a roll.”

  The brown rider—or someone—had brought a chair and small table into the otherwise barren large room. He had placed the tray on the table and now, at Xhinna’s sinuous one-handed invitation, took a seat opposite her. He raised a hand the moment she opened her mouth. “Eat first, talk later!”

  As she started to wolf down her roll, R’ney frowned and, putting on a fierce expression, added, “Slowly!”

  Xhinna slowed and chewed her roll with exaggerated diligence.

  “Better,” R’ney allowed. “While you start your next roll, I’ll tell you the news.”

  Xhinna dutifully reached for and buttered another roll. Really, if it weren’t for the worry in his voice, she would have gladly just sat and gobbled down the whole basket. But she knew R’ney wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t urgent.

  “We had another attack of Mrreows—a pair, and we’ve heard more in the woods,” he said. “The worst of it is that the pair actually came down to the sands before we drove them off. They were quick and they went straight for the sands, scattering Candidates and weyrlings in front of them until—”

  Xhinna swallowed hastily. “Was anyone hurt?”

  “No, thank goodness,” R’ney said.

  “How’d you stop them?”

  “I yelled and waved my hands,” R’ney admitted. He lowered his eyes. “In another instant I would have been mauled, but Pinorth landed in front of me and grabbed the nearest Mrreow—throwing it high, into the sea.” He paused at the memory. “Snapped his neck, too, from the sound of it.”

  “So we double our guard and make sure everyone has a knife,” Xhinna said, marshalling her thoughts.

  “Spears would be better,” R’ney said. “And more bowmen, too.”

  “We can spend some time training the Candidates,” Xhinna said. She cocked her head at him. “All this, you or X’lerin could handle on your own. Why did you rush here to wake me?”

  “Because little Jirana swears that there’s a litter of Meeyus nearby and she’s convinced Jepara to rescue them.”

  Xhinna pushed her sheets aside, jumped up, and slipped out of her nightgown as she looked around for her clothes.

  “Pass me my things,” she told the brown rider.

  At the beach they found Jepara and Jirana in the center of a knot of riders. X’lerin was in front and gave Xhinna a look of relief as she approached.

  “Jirana says that there’s a litter of Meeyus,” Jepara said to Xhinna. “I want to rescue them before they die.”

  “Jepara,” Xhinna began, wishing she’d had more klah to clear her head, “these Mrreows are not like fire-lizards; they’re more like the hunting birds of the falconers. They’re vicious and wild—that’s their nature.”

  “We need them, Xhinna,” Jirana said. She glanced toward X’lerin and the look she gave the Weyrleader was odd: half-pleading, half-fearful. It seemed almost as though Jirana winced in pain as she spoke the words. “We can train them.”
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  “We tried that, Jirana, remember?”

  “We need to try again,” the trader girl said. She turned to X’lerin. “They’re babies, they’re hungry, they need our help.”

  “We don’t have the food or the people,” Xhinna reminded her.

  “Please, sister,” Jirana pleaded, “trust me in this, will you?”

  “You ask an awful lot.”

  Jirana grasped Xhinna’s arm and pulled herself up on her tiptoes, her brown eyes meeting Xhinna’s earnestly. “We must do this.”

  “Why?”

  “I can’t say,” the girl told her.

  Maybe Taria was right, Xhinna thought. And if she was, then they would need all the Mrreows they could find.

  “We could build a pen,” Jirana said. “Right here on the beach, where I can watch them.”

  “You?” Xhinna asked. “All by yourself?”

  “I’ll get others to help,” Jirana said, biting her lip as she tried to build a roster of aides. “Leera, for certain, and …”

  “If we’re going to do this, we’ll have one person for each Meeyu,” Xhinna said, shaking her head and glancing to X’lerin to see that he understood. “The extra Meeyus … we can set them back in the wild.”

  “They’ll die!” Jirana wailed. “And we need them—you can’t do that!”

  “Well … perhaps we can get some of the Candidates to help,” Xhinna said. A flickering thought passed through her mind as she recalled the small balls of fur and the cute sound they made when they were contented. She nodded decisively. “I’ll take one myself and—”

  “Me, too,” Jepara said. Jirana started to jump for joy, but the gold rider told her warningly, “If I’m not satisfied that they’re safe, I’ll put them all down myself.”

  “But they’re not safe,” Jirana said seriously. “They’re death to tunnel snakes.”

  “They’ll attack dragons,” Xhinna said with a warning glare.

  “I think they get confused, or they don’t know better,” Jirana said. “If I could get Laspanth or—” She craned her neck up and around to Jepara. “—your Sarurth to talk to them, maybe they’d understand.”

  “First,” Xhinna said, “we have to find them.”

  “Oh,” Jirana said, brightening. “I know where six of them are.” Her expression fell as she added, “We killed their parents.”

  Xhinna turned to X’lerin. “Perhaps P’nallo and …”

  “Me,” R’ney said. “I can ride with you and Jirana.”

  “I’ll need someone to rig a cage,” Xhinna told him.

  “Danirry,” R’ney said firmly. “She can get the Skies to help, if you wish.”

  X’lerin spoke up. “Actually, Wingleader, I’d prefer to send P’nallo and a few others to scout for the other Mrreows. We can arrange a different party to go after these Meeyus.”

  Xhinna nodded in agreement.

  “We need to hurry,” Jirana said. “And we need to get my mother to tell the herders to get us fresh milk.”

  Xhinna hustled the child toward Tazith even as the trader girl prattled off orders. As Tazith bore the three of them skyward, Xhinna had a horrible thought: What would Jirana be like as a weyrwoman?

  Further increasing Jirana’s reputation, the Meeyus were exactly where she said, exactly as old as she said, and exactly the same numbers she’d said. Xhinna found herself torn once more between belief in all the girl’s predictions and incredulity that one so young, even Tenniz’s daughter, could know the things she claimed to know.

  There were six Meeyus, and they appeared to be about two months old. The largest male stood fiercely in front of the others, his growl not as deep as a grown male’s, but persuasive nonetheless.

  “It’s okay,” Jirana said, moving fearlessly toward him, her hand out. She had a bit of fresh meat, hastily acquired from the campsite, in her hand. “It’s okay, we’re here to help.”

  She dropped the meat and the Meeyu sniffed at it, then licked it and chewed on it, but could not quite get it down.

  “They’re still babies—they need milk,” Jirana said. She smiled as she glanced back at the bold one, saying, “But they’ll do.” She reached forward again, with the tips of her fingers near the Meeyu’s nose. The Meeyu backed up, fearful, then moved forward, sniffing her fingers and then licking them. In a few moments, he was curled in Jirana’s lap, making that buzzing noise that was so enchanting to one and all.

  “You can get the others now,” Jirana said, looking up quickly from the placid Meeyu. “We should get them and go—they’ll be hungry.”

  Xhinna and R’ney got the others. One was sleeping and Xhinna passed it gently back to Jirana, who received it into her lap without comment, bringing up her free hand to stroke the first Meeyu back to sleep.

  One of the littlest skittered away from Xhinna as she reached for it and she found herself lunging, with one Meeyu firmly lodged between her side and the crook of her arm. The skittish Meeyu batted at her; biting back a cry as the small, sharp claws raked her wrist, Xhinna reached around them and grabbed the Meeyu by the scruff of its neck. Instantly its temperament changed and it gave Xhinna a look that seemed to say, “What did I do wrong?” It curled its paws up and hung limply.

  “Their mothers carry them that way,” Jirana said. Xhinna turned to see the girl grab her two by the scruffs and stand carefully. “See?”

  Xhinna chose to fly back rather than take the Meeyus between and risk disturbing them. Her choice worked out well: It gave Danirry more time to construct the cage, and gave Xhinna time to reexamine the area as they flew.

  She’d spent several weeks trying unsuccessfully to locate Taria’s lair, deciding in the end that the green rider either had chosen someplace completely out of sight or had, indeed, jumped between times.

  Javissa was ready with fresh milk when they arrived, and all the Candidates crowded around until the headwoman quietly set them back to work, saying, “You’ll frighten them. You can see them later, when they’re settled.”

  “I was thinking we could tie canvas on top, when we need to,” Danirry said as she showed her effort to R’ney.

  “Good idea,” he said, examining the stakes that had been set in the ground. “I see that you didn’t waste our best wood.”

  “Hardly,” she replied. “Most of this is what we couldn’t use on the flumes.” She waved a hand at it. “Rough wood, rough work, but it’s sturdy.”

  “How far down did you go?”

  “I had the dragons bounce on them,” Danirry said. “They’re a good meter, meter and a half in the ground.”

  R’ney seized one of the stakes and pulled; it bowed but didn’t move. “Good,” he said, glancing over at her. “Good work, Danirry.”

  The blue rider beamed at the compliment.

  “There needs to be a door,” Jirana complained, coming up to the pair of builders. “How are we going to get in?”

  “We can build that later,” R’ney said.

  “We need it now,” Jirana protested. “Otherwise I’m going to have to climb up every time I want to visit Meesha.”

  “Meesha?” R’ney asked.

  “Meesha,” Jirana said lifting her arm with the male Meeyu nestled in it. “They need names, or how will they know who we’re calling?”

  “I don’t do that with herdbeasts,” R’ney said.

  “I only call them dinner,” Jepara added with a grin that broadened further at the bronze rider’s agreeing snort.

  “But we do it with fire-lizards,” Jirana said. “And the way we treat them is the way they’ll act.”

  “She’s right,” Xhinna said, stroking the Meeyu she’d kept, the one who’d scratched her. The other, more docile Meeyu she’d yielded to Jepara, who was now holding it in her lap, surrounded by interested Candidates. “I’m calling this one Scruff.”

  “Scruff?” Jirana repeated, her brows raised. “That’s—”

  “Her name,” Xhinna finished. “You name your Mrreow what you want, I’ll name mine what I want.” />
  “Yours?” Jirana said. “You’re keeping her?”

  “Yes,” Xhinna said as Scruff burrowed her head against her side, like a child looking to suck. Idly she scratched the soft tawny fur, and the Meeyu started making that pleasant buzzing sound.

  Jepara’s was named Tawny. At Xhinna’s silent urging, V’lex and T’rennor appeared and each, dubiously, took one. V’lex named his Mee, and T’rennor, not to be outdone, went with Yu. Xhinna tolerantly said nothing, reminding herself sardonically that the two, after all, were green riders.

  Red-haired Aliyal arrived silently to take the last Meeyu, which she named Amber, for his eyes. Of all the new weyrling riders, Aliyal was the quietest. She was not shy, Xhinna knew, nor did she shirk work, but the green rider seldom spoke except among the other traders. Even so, she had somehow formed a close bond with Alimma, who treated her better than she treated Cliova.

  Mirressa offered to help Jepara with her Meeyu and the queen rider graciously accepted, so that the bulk of the Skies were intimately involved with the Meeyus.

  Xhinna hadn’t quite planned it this way, but she certainly didn’t discourage it. She was confident that, if she needed, these riders beyond all others would do what she ordered. And much as she loved and respected little Jirana, she was willing, if it became necessary, to kill all the Meeyus with her bare hands to protect the eggs and weyrlings of her Weyr. Little Scruff whimpered against her and Xhinna softened. “Have we got someone bringing milk?”

  It seemed that everyone in the extended camp had to touch, pet, fondle, or hold one of the Meeyus in the next several days.

  To keep the litter from getting too frightened, Xhinna decided that only those who had done more than their share on any particular day would be allowed to handle a Meeyu. The competition worked and industry picked up immensely.

  The effort lasted for three days until Xhinna, sensing that she was straining the Weyr too much, decided to end it, allowing each individual Meeyu handler to set his or her own schedule.

  Xhinna took to leaving her Scruff with Jepara or Alimma when she needed to be elsewhere, although she was determined to bring the Mrreow with her on Tazith when it got older, if it proved trustworthy. The blue dragon regarded the small Meeyu with a mixture of curiosity and boredom, verging on antipathy.

 

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