The house dray—which Fiona would have called the domicile dray—was covered with bright decorations, and the front of all the drays were shaded with colorful canvas hoods. They looked much more gawdy than the ones she had seen before.
Her spirits fell as she had a new thought. “Traders trade. What will they want to trade with us?”
“We’ll find something,” T’mar declared.
“They must have started here some days back,” Fiona said as they descended close enough for her to see how slowly the ponderous workbeasts were moving. “How did they know to come?”
“Perhaps the same person who guided you guided them,” T’mar suggested. “We’ll know soon enough.”
A large man in the lead dray climbed up to the top of the wagon, waving in recognition of the dragon descending toward them. Fiona and T’mar were not surprised to see him signal the other drays to halt. As they circled lower, Fiona saw that what she thought was a seventh dray was actually four workbeasts harnessed together two by two.
“Let’s not leave them in this heat long,” she said as Zirenth nimbly touched down on the hot dusty ground. She immediately shucked off her jacket and wished she had worn cooler clothes. How were they going to survive this heat for the next three Turns?
T’mar leapt down first, turning back to hold his arms out to Fiona who, suppressing a grimace at his gallantry, fell into them and then pushed herself away as soon as her feet felt the earth beneath her. T’mar smiled and gestured toward the traders.
“Should we tell them about timing it?” Fiona whispered to T’mar as they trudged through the thick sand toward the first dray.
“Let’s see if we can avoid it,” he said in reply. A sudden thought made him add, “I wish we’d thought to have you wear your rank knot.”
“You’re wearing yours,” Fiona said, thinking that should be enough. T’mar did not reply.
“T’mar, Zirenth’s rider, and Fiona, Talenth’s rider,” he declared as the lead Trader approached.
“Well met,” the man replied. Fiona was surprised to see how big the man was, taller than T’mar by a head and so broad-shouldered she thought he could easily lift one of the workbeasts singlehanded.
“Azeez at your service,” he said, bowing low to them. He gestured toward his dray. “The sun is high; we would be more comfortable talking in the shade.”
Fiona saw that the other traders had left their drays and were trudging to the first one, climbing into the cabin from the back.
“We don’t want to disturb you,” T’mar said. “Especially in this heat.”
“This heat?” Azeez cocked his head up and peered at the sun above. “This is not heat.”
“We’re from the north,” Fiona said. “We’re not used to such heat.”
“I can see that,” Azeez agreed. “You are not dressed for it.”
Fiona nodded politely, surreptitiously studying his clothing: he wore long, flowing robes, and his head was topped with a piece of cloth that draped down over his ears and neck and was tied into place with a brightly colored piece of knotted rope.
“Traders learn to adapt to the climate,” Azeez said, motioning politely for them to precede him.
“Is there much here to trade?” T’mar asked.
“There is always trade,” Azeez replied, his tone making Fiona wonder if he was quoting some wise saying. They reached the dray and Azeez beckoned for them to climb up. “It will be quicker to go in through the front.”
By courtesy Fiona went first, spending a moment locating the doorway and its latch before she entered the dim cabin.
Voices stopped mid-word as she entered.
“Sit! Sit!” one of the traders urged her, pointing to a cushion just beyond the door. Fiona sat quickly and was surprised to recognize how relieved she felt when T’mar settled next to her—she felt young and awkward, a feeling that increased as she glanced around at the faces peering at her and realized that no one else there was as young as she.
“I’m T’mar and this is Weyrwoman Fiona,” T’mar said, nodding to the others.
“Fiona!” one of the traders exclaimed in surprise. “That’s not a common name.”
“Lord Bemin’s daughter is named Fiona, isn’t she?” wondered another trader, an old woman by the sound of her voice.
T’mar glanced at Fiona, and she could tell that he was thinking that they would not be able to keep their origins hidden after all.
“I’m that Fiona,” she said. “We are here from the future. But I think we should keep that a secret.”
The traders began to talk excitedly amongst themselves until Azeez called them to order. Several of the traders—Fiona noticed the old woman in particular—appeared to find her claim unbelievable.
“Some of our dragons were injured fighting Thread and we’ve come back in time to speed their healing,” Fiona said. “Do we have you to thank for the medicines we found at the Weyr?”
“We brought them,” Azeez said cautiously, glancing sternly at the other traders.
“How can going back in time speed their healing?” the old woman demanded.
“It has to do with timing,” Fiona began.
“—you must understand that this is highly confidential,” T’mar interjected.
“It will take the same amount of time for their wounds to heal,” Fiona continued, glaring at T’mar, “but while we hope to stay here for three Turns, we will return to our time only three days after we left.”
“ ‘Healed and ready to fight,’ ” the old woman said, her tone indicating that she was repeating words she’d heard previously. She looked at the other traders, who shared glances and nodded to one another in some strange understanding that Fiona couldn’t fathom.
“Three Turns, you say?” Azeez said, looking thoughtful.
“If this works, we’ll tell the other Weyrs back in the future so that they can heal their injured, too,” T’mar said.
“So they will come when you leave?” the old woman guessed.
“So we hope,” Fiona told her. She swallowed hard, adding, “Things are not going well for us.”
“The Weyrwoman who spoke to us earlier warned us that you would not accept the presence of fire-lizards,” Azeez said, his eyes darting from Fiona to T’mar, gauging their reactions.
“I had to give up my fire-lizard,” Fiona admitted bleakly.
“Can we trade on the future?” the old woman asked Azeez. “Isn’t that worth more than treasure?”
“Excuse me,” Fiona said irritably, “but it seems awfully awkward to be talking with people and not know their names.”
The old woman glanced to Azeez, a smile crossing her lips fleetingly.
“Our pardon,” Azeez said, inclining his head respectfully. He pointed to the old woman. “This is Mother Karina—I mean, Trader Karina—”
“I think you were right the first time,” Fiona said, interrupting him. She glanced at the old woman, who sucked in a gasp of surprise and quickly dropped her eyes.
“ ‘Dragonriders can always see lies,’ ” Karina said, glancing sourly at Azeez.
“Why are you called Mother?” Fiona asked, her tone polite but demanding. “It means more than just the word, and more than trader.”
She sensed surprise and nervousness in the other traders.
“We traders of the desert are different from others,” Karina explained. “We love our hot dry weather, we eat spicy hot food to cool us, we know how to travel from one oasis to another, how to survive when there is no water, what to do in a sandstorm—”
“Sandstorm?” T’mar repeated the unfamiliar word.
“Winds do not come over the mountains,” Karina said, gesturing to the east, “but pick up from the south and west, sometimes blowing for thousands of kilometers, blowing all before them, including the sand.”
“The wind can strip the hide off a person in minutes,” Azeez said with a shudder.
“Even dragons are not safe,” Karina warned them. “But you can go between w
hen we cannot.”
“What you describe sounds dangerous even to dragons,” T’mar said. “I shall be certain to warn my riders. Thank you.”
“I have met traders before who ride in brightly colored drays,” Fiona said. “Would I have met any of you desert traders?”
“No, we prefer the plains of Igen and Keroon,” Azeez replied.
“So you trade with other traders?”
Karina chortled. “Traders trade with everyone.”
Azeez glanced at the other traders, who shifted in their seats, their faces expressionless; yet Fiona felt that they had reached some unspoken agreement.
“Our caravan brings you food,” Azeez said to his guests.
T’mar began to reply but Fiona, reacting to a feeling in her gut, interrupted before he had half a word out. “What do you wish in trade?”
T’mar glanced at her in surprise, but her glare silenced him and he sat back slightly on his cushion, silently relinquishing the conversation to her—although not without some hidden reservations, she felt.
Karina gave Fiona an approving look, but it was Azeez who spoke. “You must understand, our tithe we give to the Lord Holders in trade; they pass on our goods to the Weyrs.”
“And Igen Weyr has been empty for Turns,” Fiona mused.
“Lord D’gan feels that the tithes rightly belong to Telgar now,” Azeez said. Fiona got the feeling that he was quoting a conversation with one of the local Lord Holders—and from his tone, the Lord Holder had not been pleased.
“The holders would be hard-pressed to provide us with tithe,” Fiona remarked, glancing toward T’mar. The wingleader nodded, reluctantly agreeing with her appraisal.
“One hundred and twenty-four dragons, even if forty-six of them are still weyrlings, will require a lot of feeding,” Karina commented. “And if you are successful, we are to expect similar amounts in the Turns after you leave.”
“The Weyrwoman told you this?” Fiona asked. Karina nodded. “Then she must have had an idea how we could accomplish this.”
Karina smiled mischievously. “She said that you would know what to do.”
“She assumes a lot,” T’mar replied sourly. Fiona glared at him again.
“There are things a dragon and a rider can do that no others can do. Might that be worthy of trade?” she suggested.
“Some things are worth more than gold,” Karina responded guardedly.
Fiona smiled; she had heard her father say that many Turns earlier—or, rather, some Turns in the future. “Knowledge,” she said.
“That is one,” Karina agreed. Azeez shifted slightly in his seat. Karina caught his eye—again Fiona felt some secret communication pass between them—and nodded.
“Our riders will need to patrol around the Weyr—” T’mar began.
“Lord D’gan claims that Telgar provides all the protection we need,” Karina said.
“Igen was abandoned,” T’mar persisted, and Fiona could tell that his remark touched a nerve with the traders. “While we are here, we will patrol and provide aid as needed.”
“That is something,” Karina agreed. “But for cattle and livestock, we will need to trade with holders and farmers.”
Fiona smiled at the old woman. “You have something in mind.”
“Your patrols will help in emergencies, but the farmers lose stock to the wild canines that roam the land.” Fiona could sense what Karina didn’t add: “Since the Weyr was abandoned.”
“What could help against that?” Fiona asked. “Don’t most of the wolves attack at night?”
Karina nodded. “If we could trade the farmers something that would watch at night—”
Fiona burst out laughing. “Watch-whers! You want watch-whers!”
“They are good against tunnel snakes, too,” Azeez admitted. He grinned. “We may not need them in our drays, but we know their value to holders.”
“But—” Fiona was about to say that Nuella’s presence at the Wherhold near Plains Hold should be enough protection when she realized that, in this time, Nuella had not yet come to Plains Hold. In fact, she realized with a thrill of excitement, there had always been a mystery surrounding Nuella’s move. Perhaps now she knew the reason.
“I see,” she said finally. She thought, Zirenth, tell T’mar to say nothing. It’s important—I’ll explain later.
I have told him, the bronze dragon replied.
Beside her, T’mar gave a startled motion, which he covered by crossing his knees and glancing toward her.
“What would it mean in trade if we could convince watch-whers to relocate here?” She saw their startled looks and smiled. “Ah, you were just hoping that we could get an egg or two, weren’t you?”
“If the watch-whers could stop the night attacks, there would be far more livestock than you and your dragons would need,” Karina said.
“Since the Plague,” Azeez began and then stopped as he noticed the dragonriders’ startled reaction. “Ah, but that was Turns ago for you, wasn’t it?”
“Yes,” Fiona answered hastily, realizing that the traders were not aware of the dragon illness of the future.
“Ten Turns or more,” Karina told Azeez. She noticed Fiona and T’mar exchange uneasy looks and smiled, saying, “You have dragons that you say were injured from Threadfall, and we know that won’t happen for another ten Turns or more, so you must come from at least that far in the future.”
“I think I see how you can trade on that information,” Fiona guessed.
“You can?” Karina raised an eyebrow.
“Of course,” Fiona told her. “You know now that ten Turns in the future the dragons will be so injured that they need to send us back in time, so you know that their need for numbweed will be great and you can trade that knowledge profitably to those who grow and harvest numbweed, helping them make greater profit and helping yourself to your rightful profit in carrying the goods in tithe.”
“You could be a trader,” Karina said. Fiona accepted it for the compliment it was.
“My father raised me well.”
“You mean, your father will raise you well,” Azeez corrected her, smiling.
“I think I might prefer is raising me well,” Fiona countered, smiling back.
“You were talking about the Plague?” T’mar said politely to Karina.
“Since the Plague, there are fewer farmers, and many farms lie fallow, untended,” Karina said.
“Might there be any cattle left from abandoned holds?” Fiona asked.
“There could be,” Azeez admitted, “but if there are, they would be mostly in hidden valleys in the low mountains.”
“The sort of terrain that only dragons could traverse,” T’mar said, grinning at Fiona. “I think we could entertain our weyrlings with such a prospect.”
“Do you know of any abandoned fields nearby where we could graze our herds?” Fiona asked.
“There are more fields in Keroon than here in Igen,” Karina told her. “For your dragons it is a short journey.”
Fiona pursed her lips thoughtfully, then turned to T’mar. “Do you know if any of the older weyrlings have experience tending livestock?”
“It would be better to find holders for that,” T’mar replied, holding up a hand to forestall Fiona’s quick retort. “Remember, we will be here only for three Turns, and others will follow after us.”
T’mar’s words reminded Fiona of one of Neesa’s admonishments: Always leave a place better than you found it.
“So,” she summarized, “while it is possible that we might find some cattle in hard-to-reach valleys, we’ll need to trade watch-whers for enough food to feed the dragons in the Turns to come.” She glanced at Mother Karina. “That doesn’t seem enough. Is there anything else we could trade?”
“Gold and precious metals are always in demand,” Karina told her.
T’mar looked thoughtful. After a moment, he looked at Azeez. “In our Weyr, we often knit sweaters to pass the time. They are highly regarded by the h
olders looking to us.”
“Such gifts would not be best to trade from this location,” Karina responded, “particularly if you wish to remain hidden.”
T’mar pursed his lips in sour acceptance of her point.
“What could we make for trade that might not arouse suspicion?” Fiona asked.
“Nothing too bulky, obviously,” T’mar said.
“Why not?” Fiona countered. “Dragons can carry heavy loads. We could deliver our goods anywhere on Pern.”
“As long as you weren’t seen,” Azeez reminded her.
“Would it not serve you well to have us carry goods for you?” Fiona asked, directing her question to Mother Karina.
The old woman leaned back and roared with laughter. It was several minutes before she recovered enough to speak. “You should be a trader!”
Fiona glanced at Azeez and the others and perceived a mixture of shock, irritation, astonishment, and admiration.
“We could save you days on your most perilous journeys, and we all know that time is precious to a trader, not to mention saving you wear and provisions,” Fiona persisted, feeling that she had to win their approval in addition to that of Mother Karina. She could see them reflecting thoughtfully on her words. “You could create havens to store goods, and we would move them for you between one store and another in only the time it takes to go between.”
“You said your dragons were injured,” Azeez said.
“Our older weyrlings are too young to carry all that an adult dragon could carry,” T’mar said slowly, “and many of our older dragons will need half a Turn or more to recover, but there are enough able now to carry everything in this caravan safely anywhere on Pern.”
“Anywhere on Pern,” Azeez repeated, his eyes wide.
“In only the time it takes to cough three times,” Fiona added.
“How would we arrange this with you?” Karina asked, and Fiona realized that she had made the deal.
“Our weyrlings must drill to learn recognition points all over Pern,” T’mar said. “There is no reason we could not arrange for one to be placed at your disposal while the others are drilling.”
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