by Freya Garth
However, this was the first time Doraya had walked through the tunnels alone, and she soon realised that she was lost. For the first time ever, she felt a pang of homesickness for King Panac’s castle, where she might have been ill-treated, but at least she knew where everything was. A familiar scent drew her through a small entrance, and she found herself in a messy kitchen. Berato would never have stood for such disorder. She was a mean, horrible bully, but she knew how to keep her kitchen clean and well run. It looked as if people had left in a hurry, dropping things down anywhere. A porridge pot still sat over the fire, its contents dried to a crust.
Automatically, Doraya began to tidy up, putting clean utensils away first, scraping pans and trenchers into the garbage, then washing the dirty things and cleaning the surfaces until everything sparkled. A bigger door led into the dining room, which was also in disarray, so she cleared and cleaned that, too. The dragons’ keening made a poignant backdrop to her work, and she found an odd kind of comfort in the familiar activity, in doing something where she was skilled and knew her way.
When everything was clean and tidy and the fire made up to a good blaze, she drank some water and considered what to do next. Grief did odd things to people’s appetites. She didn’t feel hungry herself. The emptiness inside her couldn’t be filled with food, but everyone would need to eat at some point. The best thing would be food they could pick at, which would keep. Doraya thought hard, and then the answer came to her. Spiced berry buns. People could eat them with butter and honey, or with meat, because they worked as well for savoury as sweet fillings. If she used egg in the mix, they would be richer, and some salt would help them keep.
All the ingredients were close at hand, and the first batch was steaming on the cooling shelf when Saban came in and stopped short.
‘You did all this?’ A sweep of her arm indicated the whole kitchen.
‘Dining room’s clear, too.’ Doraya finished shaping a bun and dusted flour from her hands. ‘Want a spiced berry bun? Nice and hot.’
Tears came to Saban’s eyes, and she blinked them back. ‘You dear, dear girl.’ Her voice vibrated with emotion. ‘This comforts me more than I can say.’
‘Alda told me, just last night, that I needed to use my initiative more. Well, he didn’t exactly say that, but I think that’s what he meant.’
Saban’s chin quivered. ‘Yes, that’s the kind of thing he would say.’ She drew Doraya into a long hug, then held her away by the shoulders and looked into her eyes. ‘We need to find time today to hear all that Alda said to you last night. Under normal circumstances, he would have told me himself, but—’
Her face crumpled like a child’s, and she abandoned the effort to maintain control. Doraya guided her to sit on a bench and held her tightly until the storm of tears abated.
‘I’m sorry.’ Saban wiped her eyes and tried to smile. ‘I guess it was bound to happen.’
‘Perhaps best here,’ Doraya said.
Saban nodded slowly. ‘Perhaps so.’
‘Eat this.’ Doraya got up and brought a warm bun to put in Saban’s hand. ‘It’ll soothe you. Just take a little bite while it’s so fresh.’
She coaxed the older woman as if she was a child, and before Saban knew what had happened, she’d eaten the whole bun. Then Doraya brought her a glass of fresh water, and she drank thirstily.
‘Better?’ Doraya asked. It was nice to be able to look after someone else for a change.
‘Yes.’ Saban sounded slightly surprised. ‘Thank you.’
‘What will happen now?’
‘The dragons will take the bodies soon. We must choose a new senior rider.’
‘Will it not just be the oldest one?’
‘Age is part of it, but it need not be the oldest.’ Saban cocked her head, listening, and Doraya heard the dragons’ keening intensify. ‘They are preparing to take the bodies. We must go, Doraya, you need to see.’
She led Doraya through the tunnels to a massive cave, far bigger than any Doraya had seen so far. All the dragon riders and the women were clustered inside the entrance, and it was a few moments before Doraya saw anything other than the huge roof of the cavern above them with a hint of daylight at the far end. Saban ushered her through the crowd, and she caught her breath at the awesome sight of the dragons gathered in their cave. They were all as beautiful as Fiami, in a range of glowing reds and greens and blues. There was a smaller red one, which must be Tadus’s dragon, and she could see Fiami’s green hide, and a white dragon lying still on the floor next to a man’s body. Alda. Doraya’s eyes swam with tears.
The other dragons were circling around the bodies, still keening, but more softly now. One, then another, touched the bodies with their noses, moving as gracefully as their bulk would allow, as if they were showing respect. Then, wing tips came together to touch the bodies, slide beneath, and lift, carefully, two dragons for Alda and several others for his dragon, the rest acting as escorts as they all trod slowly away from the riders, bearing their heavy loads. Fiami was helping to carry Alda’s dragon, and Doraya could barely feel her now, presumably because she was concentrating on her task.
The dragons reached the far end of the cave, spread their wings, and took off in formation, those carrying the bodies in the centre of a V of dragons flying away into the sky. As she watched the beautiful sight, Doraya remembered with a pang Alda’s wish for a final flight. Then she felt a tug at her solar plexus, as if she was being pulled by a rope through her middle. It grew stronger, and she took a step, then another, clamping her hands to her belly as if to hold herself back. Everyone was talking together. A boy wailed. The pull was growing stronger still. She didn’t know what to do, except that she had to follow it, and she broke into a run, a shout bursting from her throat.
‘Fiami!’
It was unbearable. She must find the dragon, had to follow—
Strong arms gripped her from behind and hurled her to the floor.
‘Let me go,’ she gasped, ‘I need to fly—’
‘You need to stay right here.’ Goril turned her around and gripped her chin so that she had no choice but to look into his eyes. ‘It’s the separation. You’re not used to it.’
Doraya was aware of his body against hers, his strong arms around her, but his proximity didn’t have its usual effect. The tugging sensation in her belly was too strong. ‘When will it get easier? Can you feel it, like a rope pulling?’
‘You never get used to it.’
Goril’s voice was almost harsh, and Doraya noticed the lines of strain in his face. The boy wailed again, and she peered over Goril’s shoulder to see Tadus trying to kick his way out of a circle of dragon riders. She noticed that the light globes had darkened, and only daylight lit the dragons’ cave.
‘Like everything else with dragons,’ Goril went on, ‘you learn to control the feeling. You need to remember not to give in.’
‘What would happen if I did?’
‘You would run over the lip of the cave and fall to your death,’ he said.
Doraya went cold at the thought. ‘You—you just saved my life.’
Goril’s lip quirked, a stark contrast with the sadness in his eyes. ‘Can you look after it yourself from now on?’
She nodded soberly. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and kissed him chastely on the cheek.
It was true, too. Now she knew the danger, her mind could override her urge to follow Fiami. The tug in her belly was still there, still uncomfortably strong, but she would not give in.
Goril got to his feet and held out a hand to help her up.
‘My mind is more my own,’ she said, surprised to realise it was true.
‘Fiami is busy, and far away.’
‘Where do they go?’
‘Nobody knows for sure. We think to the sea.’ He escorted her back to the dragon riders, looking around for someone, then spotted Saban and beckoned her to join them. ‘Let’s go to my bedcave,’ he said. ‘We need to know what you and Alda discussed last night.’
They felt their way through dark tunnels, and when they reached Goril’s bedcave, he banked up the fire. By its flickering light, Doraya told him and Saban as much as she could remember of the previous night’s conversation.
‘So he wanted you to travel with Goril,’ Saban said.
Doraya wanted to, too, but she just nodded, and then noticed Goril smiling for the first time that day. Her heart soared like a dragon in flight. It seemed he wanted to travel with her, as well.
‘How did you manage while Goril was with Mabbi?’ Saban asked.
Doraya looked at the floor. ‘It was…difficult,’ she said. ‘Alda told me I should stay in the women’s caves when Goril is with another woman.’
‘I see,’ Saban said. ‘Then that is what you will do.’
‘He said maybe in the future, when I know the riders better—’
‘Yes. Then you can judge.’
Doraya was grateful for Saban’s calm acceptance. Although the tug in her belly was still causing her much discomfort, it was pleasant to have a sustained conversation without Fiami’s desires dominating her mind.
Then she felt a strange sensation in her midriff, as if a fist was kneading her inside. Goril placed a hand on his own solar plexus.
‘She’s turning—’
‘It’s done,’ he said. ‘They’ll be back by nightfall.’
Doraya shared a long look with him, a look of understanding.
* * * *
Goril was delighted by the news that Alda thought he and Doraya should travel together. Of course they didn’t really have any option, as the separation from one’s dragon was so much harder to manage individually than collectively. He wasn’t quite sure how it would work out because he was so used to travelling alone, but he’d caught a twinkle in Doraya’s eyes when she’d told of how Alda thought they should share their ideas and experiences. Maybe it had been a trick of the firelight, but he thought she was looking forward to the prospect of having her company on his travels. And she would keep his bed nicely warm at night.
Before Doraya and Saban had returned to the women’s caves, Saban had pointed out that they couldn’t travel until she had spent a night with each of the other riders. That was true, but the wait felt hard for Goril. He longed to get going, to leap away on Fiami’s back with Doraya in his arms. However, he also knew that all the riders needed to be in the caves for the next few weeks, while the new senior rider settled into their role. So it wasn’t bad timing, in a way.
Who would be the new senior rider? Goril thought over the possible candidates and decided the three oldest riders would each do a good job. Lumik’s strength was in organisation and logistics, Jefat understood dragons better than any other rider, and Caraden was the best at dealing with people. As Alda had been. Goril felt a knot of misery in his guts as he realised that Alda’s quiet wisdom had gone forever. Going to Caraden with his problems and concerns wouldn’t feel the same, although he was sure Caraden would listen carefully and give whatever support he could. Because the more Goril thought about it, the more sure he was that Caraden would become senior dragon rider. But Caraden wasn’t, and never would be, Alda.
That was another reason a few weeks in the caves would be good for Goril, he realised, because he needed time to grieve. If only they had enough women so that he could at least have company at night. Maybe in time, he and Doraya would solve that problem. At the thought, his spirits lifted again. The emotional ups and downs were beginning to exhaust him, and he longed for Fiami’s return and the more familiar drivers of food, sleep, and sex. Actually, some food wouldn’t be a bad idea. Had he eaten today? He didn’t think so.
Goril got up and made his way to the kitchen, where he found a mountain of spiced berry buns. He split two, filled them with cold fowl, poured himself a goblet of wine, and went into the dining cave where he found other dragon riders talking quietly. The atmosphere was subdued, Goril thought, and likely to stay that way for some time.
* * * *
Doraya couldn’t follow the process of choosing a senior dragon rider. It was done in the dining cave, simply by discussion, which had many nuances she didn’t understand. Still, it seemed fair, with everyone given a voice, and everyone’s opinion heard, weighed, and valued. They even asked her to speak her mind, but she demurred, saying she didn’t know enough of the riders yet to judge.
It took a long time, and during the process she felt the tugging in her belly lessen and eventually stop, while Fiami’s presence grew again in her mind. Although, oddly, it seemed easier to manage now that she’d had a break. It was noticeable how the riders relaxed as the dragons returned, and she herself felt easier in her skin once they were safely back in the caves.
In the end, a tall, grizzled man called Caraben was chosen as senior dragon rider. He rose to his feet to speak.
‘Do you all accept this choice?’
His voice was a light tenor, lilting and pleasant, but Doraya missed Alda’s sonorous baritone.
Caraden looked around the cave, making eye contact with everyone in turn. ‘This is your last chance to speak before I accept it myself. If any one of you is unhappy, even in the smallest measure, please do not keep your trouble hidden.’ He looked around again, waiting, but nobody spoke. ‘Then I accept your choice of me, with thanks and with a heavy heart, for I would have Alda back if I could freely choose. Tomorrow we will feast, as is our tradition. Tonight, find comfort as best you can.’
His eyes found Saban’s, and he strode away from the table to meet her, took her hand, and led her into the men’s caves.
Doraya wondered what she should do and looked around for guidance, but all the other women were busy, so she sat and waited until a rider came to claim her. She’d seen him talking to Goril. Tall and slim, with sad eyes beneath a mop of tousled hair, he introduced himself as Nuriot and took her into the men’s caves. As they walked through the tunnels, her heart beat faster. The women had promised to tell her what each rider liked, but they hadn’t had a chance today with everything in such disarray after Alda’s death. Nuriot didn’t speak to her as they walked, which made him seem a little forbidding. Her heart beat faster still.
Nuriot’s bedcave was very like Goril’s, with two comfortable chairs by the fire and a large canopied bed. He gestured Doraya to take a seat, brought her a goblet of water and one for himself, threw a log on the fire, sat in the other chair, and heaved a gusty sigh.
‘I am sorry, Doraya, this is not the welcome I had planned for you.’ His golden eyes were bleak.
‘Death cannot be planned,’ she said.
‘I will miss Alda all the days of my life.’ His voice was quiet. ‘From my own stupidity, partly. Others, more sensible than I, faced the fact that his life was coming to a close. I chose to ignore that because it felt too painful to me. I preferred to believe that he would always be here with us.’
Doraya hid her surprise. Her role here was to give comfort.
‘I’m sure you did that for the love of him,’ she said.
‘I don’t think I did him a good service.’ Nuriot’s voice was lower still, as if he could barely speak the words. ‘He tried to tell me, to talk with me of his hopes for us after he was gone. I wouldn’t join with him in that. I–I couldn’t.’
He held out his hands toward Doraya, palms up in a gesture of helplessness, golden eyes swimming with unshed tears.
She wasn’t sure what to say. If only she knew him better. ‘How can I help you, Nuriot?’
‘I don’t know.’ He dropped his hands between his knees and bowed his head.
She thought back to the previous night. ‘Would you like a massage?’
‘That would be kind,’ he said slowly, getting used to the idea. He stood and pulled off his shirt and boots, showing a lean, well-muscled torso, and went to lie facedown on the bed, still wearing his breeches. Doraya joined him and placed her hands on his shoulders. His body was thrumming with tension, his face turned away from her, and she realised he was weeping steadily.
>
‘There is no shame in tears,’ she said firmly, and began to massage his back with equal firmness. Nuriot wept quietly for several minutes as she worked through the tension in his muscles, and as he began to relax, his weeping slowed and stopped. She continued working on him until his back and shoulders were completely relaxed, and she saw that he had cried himself to sleep like a child.
Moving quietly, she covered him with a blanket, placed another log on the fire, took off her dress, and slid under the blanket next to Nuriot. Poor man, he was grief-stricken. How was Goril faring? Knowing he would be alone, Doraya wondered whether she could creep out of Nuriot’s bedcave and visit him, but as soon as she’d had the idea, she dismissed it from her mind. Goril was no doubt every bit as sad as Nuriot, and she wished she could comfort him, but she had a duty to all the dragon riders and her place was here.
Once her mind was settled, Doraya realised she was very tired herself. Within minutes, she was fast asleep.
She half woke some time in the night and reached out for Goril, muzzy headed. The bed was empty, and as she sat up, the blanket clutched to her breasts, she remembered where she was. Nuriot was sitting in one of the chairs gazing into the fire. Doraya wasn’t sure what to say or do, but then he turned and saw her.
‘Did I wake you?’ he asked.
‘I don’t think so. How are you feeling?’
‘Much better, thank you. Just’—he shrugged his shoulders—‘not sleepy.’
Doraya thought of Alda talking to her about judgements and choices. If only she’d had a chance to find out what Nuriot liked.
‘Can I help you with anything?’ she asked.