When she returned after the fifth trip, Jefric called to her, “That’s the worst of them. You can rest.”
“I’d better get back to Nerra,” Xhinna said. “Did you want to come?”
“And me!” Jirana piped up from the distance, trudging toward them with more determination than stamina.
“I should stay here,” Jefric said, glancing back to the large tent, as he boosted Jirana up to Tazith’s neck.
Xhinna was too tired to do more than nod. With a weary thought, she urged Tazith skyward once more. Gamely, the blue rose and beat his way back to the Hold’s courtyard.
Javennor rushed forward when the blue landed, only to stop in surprise when he saw that the only riders were Xhinna and Jirana.
“Jefric says that’s the worst of them,” Xhinna told him as she slid down and held up her hands for Jirana.
“And who’s this little one?”
“She’s with me,” Xhinna told him. “She’s been helping Elsith at the camp.”
“How bad is it, at the camp?” Javennor asked even as Tazith reared into the night sky and flew to his perch on the courtyard tower.
“The ones that were brought were the worst,” Xhinna said. “But there are many back there not that much better.”
Javennor pursed his lips and nodded. “Well,” he said, “things will get better with herself back in charge.”
Xhinna nodded, then waved and, with a hand on Jirana’s back, guided the youngster into the Great Hall.
Inside they found Nerra surrounded by several others. She looked up as they entered and furrowed her brows.
“Jefric decided to stay at the camp,” Xhinna explained. “He said that they’ll need more wagons with supplies in the morning.”
“I’d already thought of that,” Nerra said with a nod. She turned back to the clay tablets in front of her and rubbed a hand across her weary eyes.
Xhinna moved behind her, laid a hand on her shoulder, and leaned close to say, “After a Fall, the riders sleep for hours.” Nerra looked at her blankly, and Xhinna explained, “After this night, you’ve got to be as tired as if you’ve ridden a Fall.”
“There’s too much—”
“There’s nothing to be done now that can’t wait until morning,” Xhinna said. “You’re exhausted, you need your rest.”
Behind her, as if in emphasis, Jirana yawned loudly.
“Very well, blue rider,” Nerra said. She glanced around the table and addressed those gathered there. “I’ve been reminded that even dragons need sleep.”
The others chuckled, some wearily, some in relief.
“We’ll begin again at first light,” Nerra told them. “Until then, let the normal guard be kept and a light kitchen for those in need.”
“Xhinna, Xhinna!”
Xhinna woke to the sound of Jirana’s voice and the little girl shaking her. She pulled away from the noise and the shaking. “What?”
“We’ve got to help them, Xhinna!” Jirana said, reaching out to shake her again. “We can’t just leave.”
“I know,” Xhinna said, focusing bleary eyes on the intent trader girl. “I hadn’t planned on leaving yet.”
“But—”
“Little one, you forget that Tazith can take us back when we want,” Xhinna said, pushing herself upright. “We’ve all the time we need here.”
“Oh,” Jirana said, placated. She added, “The necessary is through that door and there’s hot water.”
Xhinna moved to gather up her clothes, only to find that they weren’t where she’d left them.
“Here’s a robe,” Jirana said, tossing it to Xhinna. “They’re washing our things and will have them back shortly.” She waved at a pile of clothes stacked on a chair. “Someone left those for us.”
Xhinna grunted, pulled on the robe, and made her way to the necessary. She luxuriated in the hot water while Jirana prattled on in the other room, but dried herself hurriedly when someone—blessed person!—brought in a tray with klah and fresh-baked breadrolls.
After she’d dressed and eaten, she found Nerra once again bent over the table in the Great Hall.
Nerra waved as they approached. “Good morning! Did you sleep well?”
“Yes, and you?”
Nerra smiled. “For over two Turns I’ve dreamed of my bed.” Her smile widened as she confessed, “It was better than I’d imagined.”
Then her smile faded as she looked at the tablets spread out on the table in front of her. “Other things are not so good.”
“What can we do to help?”
“I—I didn’t think to ask—”
“You tithe to Telgar—it’s the least we can do,” Xhinna replied with a shrug.
“But your mission—”
“It will keep,” Xhinna replied. “We ride in Search, but the time is not immediate.”
Nerra nodded in understanding.
“How best can we help you?”
“What we need most is to contact the outlying holds minor and cotholds, to learn their needs,” Nerra told her. She nodded toward a small man standing beside her. “Pinnor here is our Storemaster; he’s known to them.”
“Well, Pinnor, when can you ride?” Xhinna asked.
“As soon as my lady wishes,” Pinnor said, his eyes on Nerra.
“I’m afraid I’m not familiar with most of the landmarks of Crom—” Xhinna began.
“But aren’t you a Telgar rider?” Pinnor asked.
“It’s a long story,” Xhinna said.
“One that the blue rider will not bore us with now,” Nerra added in a tone that brooked no argument.
“I’m sure if you can describe where you want to go, we’ll find it,” Xhinna told the Storemaster.
“Very well,” Pinnor said with a barely hidden sniff. “If you’ll give me a moment to get my things, I’ll be ready.”
Xhinna nodded and Pinnor left. Nerra leaned over to her and said, “He’s a bit of an old stick, but he’s good at his job.” She frowned. “I don’t think he quite believes how bad things are in the outlying holds.”
Xhinna nodded. She wasn’t sure how bad things were out there, either.
“If your blue can handle another, I’m at your service,” Tormic spoke up from the other side of Nerra. When Nerra looked at him in surprise, he explained, “Jefric should be here by mid-afternoon and it might be that a man-at-arms will be needed.”
“I’m afraid you might be right,” Nerra said. “Explain to those in need that we’ll get to them as quickly as we can.”
“They’ll be glad to see the news come a-dragonback,” Tormic said with a grateful look toward Xhinna.
“Ah,” Nerra said, her lips twisting into a frown, “you might explain to them that we’ve limited resources in that regard.”
“I will,” Tormic agreed sourly. He glanced to Xhinna and added, “No offense to you, blue rider.”
EIGHT
A Journey Through Twilight
It was, in the end, worse than either Xhinna or Pinnor had feared. The first four holds they reached were lifeless, barren.
“These were good holds, good lands,” Pinnor said sadly as they surveyed the last of the four.
“It was the Plague,” Xhinna said. “Too many people were ill at the same time.”
Pinnor jerked his head in savage agreement. “We lost many in the Hold itself.”
“I’ve no doubt,” Xhinna said. “Where to next?”
“Next?” Pinnor repeated, still eyeing the waste below them. He heaved a sigh, then said, “I suppose we should see about Keogh.”
Keogh was thriving, but the holders there greeted the blue dragon warily.
“We’ve nothing more you can take from us,” someone called when Tazith landed. “Go away!”
“I come from Crom Hold,” Pinnor called. “I’ve been sent by Lady Nerra.”
“Lady Nerra is dead,” a man said, stepping to the front of the crowd.
“Not so,” Tormic called. “She is in Crom Hold.” He peered closely at the man. “Is th
at you, Javver?”
“Javver was my father; I’m Jarren,” the man declared. “Who are you?”
“Tormic of the guard.”
“Crom guard?”
“The same,” Tormic replied. He waved a hand toward Pinnor. “And this is Pinnor, Storemaster.”
“Storemaster?” Jarren repeated, his expression darkening.
“Lady Nerra sent me to find out what supplies are needed,” Pinnor said.
“Needed?” someone in the crowd muttered. “Land’s what we need most!”
“Land? What about seed to plant it?” another objected.
“The last four holds we’ve seen are all barren, lifeless,” Tormic said. “I’m sure the Lady Nerra would have no qualm if you were to take hold.”
“First, we need to see what stores are on hand—,” Pinnor began.
“Ho! So you would take our food!” someone in the crowd cried out.
“Quiet!” Jarren shouted. “If he’s here from our rightful Holder, it’s our duty.”
“There are many starving throughout Crom,” Xhinna called from atop Tazith. “They need help.”
“I’ll not see another man starve when we’ve enough,” Jarren growled, turning back to the others behind him.
“We’ve some seed at the Hold,” Pinnor said. “We’d be happy to share.”
“We needed seed two Turns back,” Jarren said. He waved to the distant plains. “There are fields out there lying fallow for want of seed.”
“We can provide it. Just let me know what you need, and we’ll see what we can do,” Pinnor said, reaching up to Xhinna who handed him down his pack full of slates and writing tools. He glanced around. “It’s hot out and I really need a place to lay out my work …”
“Come with me, Storemaster,” Jarren said. He looked pointedly at the crowd. “The rest of you—back to work. There’re fields to plow, crops to plant.”
After Keogh, they went to Campbell’s Field and found it just as inhabited and bountiful. When Pinnor had finished there, it was getting dark.
“We should return,” he told Xhinna. “Lady Nerra will want to know what we’ve discovered.”
“And we can use some rest,” Tormic added. Beneath them, Tazith rumbled in agreement.
“I’ve found them,” Jirana announced when Xhinna returned from the last of the holds a sevenday later. “We can go now.”
Xhinna was especially tired, as the day before she and Jirana had finally ventured forward in time to plant a large chiseled marker near Tenniz’s cairn. It had been the Storemaster’s suggestion to shape a stone into a wide prism with their message for the future inscribed on all sides. The message was simple: “Back three turns in Western. Send help.”
“Found whom?” Xhinna asked, rubbing a sore knot on her neck as she peered down at the young girl.
“The Candidates,” Jirana said as though it were obvious.
“Oh, you did, did you?” Xhinna said. “All on your own, without the help of either me or my blue?”
“Well, you were busy,” Jirana said with a shrug.
“To hear Nerra tell it, you were quite busy yourself,” Xhinna said. “Or was it some other trader girl who spent all her time nursing the sickest back to health?”
“It wasn’t just me,” Jirana said. “Elsith was there, too.” She made a face. “They don’t have a healer—their healers all died in the Plague.”
“The Plague was hard,” Xhinna said.
“That’s when you lost your parents, wasn’t it?”
Xhinna nodded.
“I’m sorry,” Jirana said. She moved to wrap her arms around Xhinna’s waist.
Xhinna gave her a half-smile and a quick hug. “And I suppose Lady Nerra will just let us take these Candidates away?”
“Weelll … maybe we should ask her,” Jirana allowed, then added in a rush, “But I’m sure she’ll say yes.”
“Is this the Sight?”
Jirana groaned. “No, it’s just—well, you’ll see.”
“And where will I see?” Xhinna asked teasingly.
Jirana flushed and bristled. “The Great Hall,” she said. “We’ll meet them in the Great Hall.”
She grabbed Xhinna’s hand and dragged on it.
“And what of Nerra?”
“She’s in the Great Hall, too,” Jirana said, tugging harder and suddenly falling forward as Xhinna stopped resisting her.
“Well, why didn’t you say so?”
“Arnnff!”
The Great Hall was much cleaner and more cheerful than when Xhinna had first entered it. Bright new tapestries had replaced the old, dingy, fire-smoked ones; the floor was well swept and the glows were fresh and plentiful. The atmosphere in the room was cheerful and relaxed.
Nerra sat at the end of the Hall on the raised dais in the central chair. She was listening intently to two holders who were entreating her on some matter when Xhinna and Jirana entered from the back. Catching sight of them, Nerra straightened and made a graceful gesture to the two holders. “Will you excuse me for a moment?”
The holders followed her look and nodded in assent, stepping to the side as Nerra jumped out of her chair and rushed over to Xhinna. As she approached, she asked Jirana, “Are you certain?”
Jirana nodded and Nerra gave her a wry look. To Xhinna she said, “You’ll be leaving us?”
“We need to complete our Search and return,” Xhinna told her.
Nerra nodded, then caught Jefric’s eyes and motioned him over. The large man, newly appointed captain of the Hold guard, moved swiftly and quietly, giving Xhinna a polite nod and tousling Jirana’s hair. The youngster made a face and batted his hand away.
“You know,” he said to Xhinna with a measuring glance at Jirana, “if you wish, we could keep her here.”
“I think her mother would object,” Xhinna told him easily, playing along.
Jirana made a growling noise in her throat, and Jefric smiled and tousled the girl’s hair again.
“Jefric, would you bring Jirana’s guests here?” Nerra asked. Jefric nodded brusquely and strode off. Nerra turned to Xhinna. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll conclude this other business.”
Xhinna waved a hand in agreement and, placing a hand on Jirana’s shoulder, drew back to the tapestries lining the side of the hall.
Nerra’s business with the two holders took only a few moments more. Bowing, they left, seeming happy with Nerra’s pronouncement. Once they were gone, Nerra jumped down from her chair and came over to Xhinna.
“I’m glad that’s over!” she said. “I’ve managed to sort those two out to their satisfaction, which is more than they’d hoped.” When neither Xhinna or Jirana spoke, she explained, “Those two are—were—in contention over who should take over one of the abandoned cotholds.”
“Is there much fighting like that?” Xhinna asked.
Nerra shook her head. “Sadly, no.” She saw Xhinna’s look of confusion and explained, “I’d rather have more who were eager to restart a hold than those who are too listless to—” She broke off at the sound of approaching footsteps.
Jefric led a group of four into the room. They stopped at Jefric’s order, and he came to join Nerra, glancing down toward Jirana as he asked, “Are these the ones?”
“Yes,” Jirana said.
Xhinna eyed the small party and tried to hide her dismay. They were quiet, grouped in a small knot except for one girl with dirty-blond hair who stood apart from the others. They seemed to be in their teens, one just barely.
The girl who stood apart looked at Xhinna idly, nearly with contempt, but then did a double take when she saw Xhinna’s rank knot. She seemed to recognize it, and her gaze went to the doors at the end of the Hall as though seeing through and beyond them to Tazith.
That one for certain, Xhinna thought, seeing the longing in the girl’s hazel eyes. The girl was still gawky with adolescence, likely to have fourteen Turns, maybe somewhat more. Xhinna guessed she was an orphan of the Plague. The girl met her gaze and lifted
her chin with feigned pride; Xhinna had made that same pose herself too many times not to recognize it for what it was.
“Alimma,” Jirana said, moving forward, “this is Xhinna. She rides in Search.”
“Search?” Alimma repeated, her eyes shining briefly with hope, then dimming. “Did you want me to find you some likely boys?”
She is one, Tazith said with a certainty that surprised his rider.
Two are meek—they’ll ride greens but fight well; the other is strong but hurt.
“No, thank you,” Xhinna replied, tousling Jirana’s head as she added, “The looking’s already been done.”
Alimma’s eyes lit.
“Which one of you knows how to handle fractious children?” Xhinna asked, eyeing them carefully.
“I do,” the thinnest of them replied. She had a haunted, fragile look about her. She looked starved, gaunt. Xhinna thought that she could put on at least a stone or two in weight if given the chance.
“Danirry lost her family in the Plague when she had fifteen Turns,” Nerra explained, her eyes going dark with a rage that Xhinna could almost feel radiating from her. “She was shunted from aunt to uncle, and never fed.”
“You’ve seventeen Turns?” Xhinna asked.
“Only queens take girls,” Danirry said.
“Or greens or blues,” Xhinna said. She could not help taking on a tender expression as she added, “Like my Tazith.”
“You’re a wingleader?” Alimma asked, pointing to her rank knot.
Xhinna nodded. She was surprised at how the notion no longer seemed strange to her.
“Are you?” Danirry asked. Xhinna could see a faint glimmer of hope spark in the girl.
Xhinna nodded again. “We ride in Search, and our need is immediate.”
“Cliova, Mirressa,” Nerra said nodding to the two quiet girls standing somewhat behind Alimma, “what say you?”
Cliova gave Alimma a questioning look and the other nodded once in a small, quick jerk, her eyes still on Xhinna. Seeming to sense Cliova’s anxiety, Alimma reached a hand back for Cliova to grasp.
“I’ll go, if you want me,” Mirressa said, giving Xhinna a coy look. She had a high, childlike voice. Xhinna guessed that she had perhaps thirteen Turns, maybe less.
I can see why some bronze riders hate this, Xhinna thought. Mirressa was cute in a childish way but no more; to have one so young make eyes at her left Xhinna feeling uneasy, like she needed to wash her hands. Then she realized that Mirressa was scared and trying to appear older than she was.
Sky Dragons: Dragonriders of Pern Page 14