Fiona raised Jeriz back to his feet and turned him to face Kindan. The harper was dust-covered from his day drilling the weyrlings and Fiona could see the exhaustion in his eyes even as he shot her a questioning look.
Jeriz shot Fiona another imploring look and it took all of her father’s training in manners to keep her from laughing at the boy’s discomfort.
“I call him Kindan and friend,” Fiona said. “What would you say to him?”
“He’s a weyrlingmaster and a harper,” Jeriz said, clearly torn as to which honor ranked higher. Decisively he squared his shoulders and looked up at Kindan. “Harper and Weyrlingmaster, I hope I cause no offense.”
“None at all, provided you are willing to call me Kindan in private,” the harper returned easily, striding forward with a steady gait and extending his hand. “And how shall I call you?”
“My name is Jeriz,” the boy said. “I’m the Weyrwoman’s drudge.”
The swat to the back of his head was neither hard nor expected.
“No drudge,” Fiona snapped. “You’re here to help as weyrfolk or trader, whichever you wish.”
Jeriz raised his hand to his head, but said nothing.
“You remind me of someone,” Kindan said, looking at the youngster critically.
“From what you told me, he shares many traits,” Fiona said, giving Kindan a meaningful look. She grabbed Jeriz’s hand and tugged him gently toward their quarters. Over her shoulder, she called to Kindan, “I’m giving this one a bath. Would you send for some late snacks?”
Kindan followed, brows raised as he took in her comment and then noticed the cot placed on the far side of their room. In the days since Lorana had disappeared, he spent more time here with Fiona than he did with the weyrlings. When asked, he’d said that it was to comfort Fiona. Xhinna and Taria between them did a good job of covering for him and he made sure that he was up early in the morning and stayed with the weyrlings until late at night.
In the bathroom, Jeriz eyed the large warm water pool warily.
“How many Turns have you?” Fiona asked, wondering at his behavior.
“I’ve nearly ten,” Jeriz said.
“Small for your age: I would have guessed you no more than seven,” Fiona said, her lips pursed thoughtfully. She saw the flame flare up in his eyes and nodded to herself. “You’ve had your share of fights over it, haven’t you?”
Jeriz nodded.
“And didn’t win many of them, going against those so much bigger than you,” Fiona guessed. Jeriz said nothing. “Are you bruised?”
Jeriz’s eyes melted and, reluctantly, he nodded.
“I’ve patched and healed far worse, I can assure you,” Fiona told him. “When I was your age, I was always getting scraped up going after tunnel snakes.”
“I’ve never seen one.”
“I hope you don’t,” Fiona told him. “Nasty things, sharp teeth. And fast.” She gave him a thoughtful look. “They’d probably send you after them, too, if you were in Fort Hold, ’cause you’re small for your age.” She pointed at the pool. “You get in there, have a good soak, dry off with those towels over there, and come wake me when you’re done.”
Jeriz made to protest, but Fiona shook her head. “The water’s warm, it’ll be good for bruises.”
With that, Fiona turned and left quickly, lying on her bed and listening for the sounds of the boy getting into the pool.
“Don’t forget to use the soapsand!”
She heard the boy groan in response and smiled to herself.
A while later, a splash alerted her that Jeriz had gotten out. She rose as she heard him grab a towel and dry himself quickly. “Are you decent?” she called. “I’m coming in.” The boy let out a garbled noise that cut off abruptly as Fiona entered and gestured toward a stool.
“Do you want help drying your hair?” she asked. “Sit there and I’ll do it.”
“I thought I was supposed to help you,” Jeriz complained.
“You are,” Fiona said. “Sometime not too long from now, I’m going to be doing this with my own child.” She wiped the comb dry and ran it through the boy’s fine black hair. “I’m going to need the practice.”
“Ow!” Jeriz complained.
“See?” Fiona said, easing off on her pressure. “That’s exactly what I mean.”
She must have gotten it right, for presently the boy was silent and a short while later, let out a sigh of contentment that he tried desperately to hide and which Fiona pretended not to notice.
The next morning Fiona was awoken by the sound of someone clearing her throat. Terin. Fiona turned toward the noise, only to discover herself wedged with a small body on one side and Kindan’s larger body on the other. She was quite warm and toasty, Fiona noticed with a self-satisfied expression. She remembered coaxing Jeriz in with her when it became apparent that he was shivering and bravely trying not to show it. She wondered how many cold, shivering, sleepless nights he’d spent since coming to Telgar. He was so small he was barely noticeable, once she insisted forcefully that he get in on the far side of her, nearest the wall.
She could sense his unease and waited until his breathing eased into sleep before finding a more comfortable position herself.
She had just drifted off to sleep when she heard Kindan’s trudging footsteps approach, his slow, trudging step seeming all full of contrition. She heard his sharp breath when he noted that Jeriz was with her and his sigh as he decided that it didn’t matter and he slid, quietly, gently in with her.
“I love you,” she whispered softly as he lay his head on the pillow. His arms tightened around her in response and they drifted quickly to sleep.
“Have you got room for another?” Terin asked, her voice sounding teary.
“It’ll be tight, but I think we can manage,” Kindan said, gallantly rising and offering her a space next to Fiona. Terin smiled thanks at him and crawled in, patting the space at the edge of the bed invitingly. With a grin, Kindan eased back into the small remaining portion of the bed.
“Hang on,” Fiona said, gently moving the boy who’d sprawled in his sleep further into the bed. “That’s better,” she said as she scooted over more. She pulled Terin closer to her, close enough that she could whisper to her, “Rest first, talk later.”
The redhead nodded and closed her eyes.
Much later, Fiona sent “the men,” as she carefully referred to them, into the bathroom first to get dressed and changed while she lay with Terin.
“What is it?”
“He was gone again last night,” Terin said. “I woke when he came back and I challenged him.” She sniffed. “He told me that he couldn’t say where he’d been, that he’d given his word.”
“And?”
“I told him that I loved him,” Terin replied. “He said that he would always love me.”
“And?” Fiona asked again, knowing there was more.
“I asked him again and he said that he couldn’t tell me,” Terin said, sounding miserable. “He said that I’d understand.” She sniffed angrily. “How can I understand if he won’t tell me?”
“Terin,” Fiona began slowly, feeling out her words. “Do you love him?”
“I don’t know,” Terin said quickly. Then she shook her head. “No, that’s not true. I love him, I just don’t know if I can trust him.”
“I understand,” Fiona said. Terin wasn’t a jealous soul, Fiona knew, but she wanted certainty in her life. Fiona was sure that if F’jian had another love and was honest with Terin about it, she’d eventually come to accept it. She merely wanted a solid relationship, with the rules known.
Even though, with nearly fourteen Turns, Terin was as old as some who were already settled, she was still young enough to be unsure of herself, to want to take things slowly. Perhaps more slowly than F’jian, but that was her right and her decision. Fiona couldn’t fault her; she’d waited for her own time.
“The question is, can you live without him?” Fiona asked and just as instantl
y regretted her words. No one could say how long any dragonrider would survive in these perilous times.
“I don’t know,” Terin sobbed. “I don’t think I could ever let anyone fly Kurinth but Ladirth.”
“Shh,” Fiona said, running her hand through the younger woman’s hair. “Shh, it’ll be all right.”
“That’s what he says,” Terin complained. She flipped her head from under Fiona’s hand and looked her in the eyes, “What if it isn’t?”
“Terin, you know better: ‘Ifs and ands are no work for hands.’ ”
“That old saying!” Terin snorted. “And what’s it mean, anyway?”
“It means that if you spend all your time worrying about the future, you’ll never enjoy today,” Kindan’s voice spoke up. Neither Fiona nor Terin had noticed his return to the room. He nodded to Terin. “It means that you’ve got to hold on to what you can hold, and not what you can’t.”
His eyes flicked toward Fiona as he found other meaning in his own words. He smiled at the redhead, adding, “I don’t know what you were talking about, weyrwoman.”
Terin sighed. “That’s fine, you’ve answered my question anyway.”
“Why don’t you two go off to breakfast, we’ll be along,” Fiona said to Kindan and Jeriz. Kindan nodded and beckoned to the youngster, who followed with a backward glance at the Weyrwoman. She waved him on, smiling.
“So that’s Tenniz’s son,” Terin said as she watched the small boy follow Kindan out. She waited until they were out of earshot before adding, “He’s cute!”
“It’s the eyes,” Fiona agreed. “He has the most beautiful eyes.”
“He is going to have a full Flight of admirers when he gets older,” Terin predicted.
“Two, if he’s not picky,” Fiona agreed. “That is, if he decides to stay with the Weyr.”
“How is it that you collect so many people, Fiona?” Terin asked.
“I lose some of them, too,” Fiona added sadly, thinking first of Lorana and then of F’dan. The blue rider had been a marvelous person, a great help to her back in Igen Weyr—as surrogate parent, parttime conscience, and good friend. She’d been devastated when he’d been lost to Thread. She realized that he came to her mind because of the luxurious combing Jeriz had given her the night before, insisting on repaying her after she’d combed out his hair.
“We’ve all lost them,” Terin agreed sadly.
“Come on, let’s get up,” Fiona said, shoving Terin toward the edge.
They found T’mar, F’jian, C’tov, H’nez, and L’tor just finishing their breakfast at the high table when they arrived in the Kitchen Cavern minutes later.
“How is it working with your new helper?” T’mar asked when he got a chance to talk with Fiona alone.
“He’s settling in,” Fiona said, glancing at T’mar’s long hair. “Have you ever thought of braiding your hair, T’mar?”
“Pardon?” T’mar asked, moving away from Fiona’s greedy fingers.
“Later, perhaps,” Fiona said regretfully as he rose. Shaneese came directing two others burdened with food trays and settled it in front of Terin and Fiona.
“You can’t expect us to eat all that!” Fiona declared, eyes wide in horror.
“Kindan, Jeriz, Xhinna, and Taria are joining us,” Shaneese said as she sat down with them.
“You haven’t eaten yet?” Fiona asked in surprise. “You must have been up for hours already.”
Shaneese shrugged her comment off even as she gestured for Kindan and the others to join them.
“I’ve heard some disturbing rumors,” Shaneese said as the others were seated.
“What about?”
“I’ve heard that the weyrlings are worried that they’re going to die,” Shaneese said, glancing to Xhinna and Taria for confirmation.
“Yes,” Kindan said, glancing toward Fiona. “I’ve heard it, too.” He gave a wry smile. “They don’t come out and say it, though, they mostly talk around it. And—” He nodded toward Fiona. “—they confessed to feeling muzzy-headed, all of them.”
“But you’ve got a plan to deal with it, haven’t you?” Fiona asked.
“How many of the others are still feeling muzzy-headed?” Terin said, glancing at Fiona.
“I can’t say about me for certain,” Fiona said. “I’ve got a baby to muddle things up as well.”
“T’mar for certain,” Shaneese said, giving Fiona a worried look.
“F’jian,” Terin added. She yawned and, red-faced, admitted, “Me, ever since I Impressed.”
Fiona waited until the yawns that Terin’s action had initiated had passed through the group before asking, “How bad is it?”
“I wouldn’t know compared to Igen,” Terin said. “It didn’t affect me.”
“Well then, none of the weyrlings would be able to gauge,” Fiona said with a frown. She thought for a moment, then said to Kindan, “How about we do some tests?”
“Tests?” the harper asked so blandly that Fiona guessed that she’d stumbled upon his plan. “What sort, Weyrwoman?”
“Two of them, actually,” Fiona said. “Well, maybe three, come to think of it.”
Kindan gave her an inviting look. She thought of kicking him under the table, but decided it was beneath her dignity as a Weyrwoman.
“First, we have Talenth and myself drill with the weyrlings,” Fiona said. She grinned at the reaction of the others. “That’ll give us a chance to see how they compare to me.” She cocked a head at Terin. “You can join, too, it’ll do you good.”
Terin turned a girlish groan into a womanly “ah-hmm” of agreement.
“Let’s ask Jeila as well, as she and Tolarth seem immune,” Fiona said. And that, come to think of it was an odd thing, given that Jeila and Tolarth had been back in time three Turns. None of the dragons Minith hatched at High Reaches Weyr had displayed the muzzy-headedness, as far as Fiona knew. Why was that, she wondered. Was it something that affected only those from Fort?
“You said three things,” Kindan reminded her politely.
“Well, we should compare the weyrlings to someone who hasn’t Impressed.” She turned her eyes to Jeriz who struggled to master his alarm. “I think Jeriz should join us and we’ll see if he’s as tired afterward as they are.”
“And the third?”
“If he’s not too tired,” Fiona said, smiling at the small green-eyed boy, “I’m thinking that we might arrange for Jeriz to spend a night or two in the weyrling barracks.” She smiled at Kindan. “He could use your bed.”
“And why do that?”
“Because Jeriz might hear something or get a feel for what’s happening that we”—she gestured to herself, Kindan, and the rest—“might not hear said in our presence.”
“Because he’s so young or because he’s so cute?” Xhinna asked.
“Both, I think,” Fiona said, ignoring the flush that came to Jeriz’s cheeks. She pushed the basket of rolls toward him; he took one and wolfed it down.
“That sounds like a good plan,” Kindan agreed. Shaneese snorted and Terin’s eyes danced with suppressed humor. Xhinna noticed and her eyes widened as she tumbled to the joke.
“Should we mention this to T’mar?” Terin wondered, frowning.
“Yes,” Fiona said. She made a quick tour of the cavern with her eyes and realized that it was empty of dragonriders. “When they return from drill.”
“Well, then, we should probably get started,” Kindan said, rising.
“Now?” Fiona protested. “We haven’t eaten!” She pointed at her plate. “Take Jeriz, if he’s eaten already; Terin and I will join you shortly.”
“It’ll give you time to explain to the others,” Xhinna added diplomatically.
Kindan gave Fiona a measuring look, decided against teasing her further with a shake of his head, and gestured for the others to follow.
“We’ve got to check on the quarters, anyway,” Kindan allowed as they moved off. He cocked an eye toward Jeriz. “How are you at judging what�
��s clean?”
“Not very good,” Jeriz admitted with a frown.
“Well, then it’s time you learned!” Xhinna told him with a smile. She glanced up at the harper. “You know, Weyrlingmaster, this may work out better than you imagine.”
Fiona didn’t hear the answer as the group trailed out of earshot and into the Weyr Bowl.
“Eat!” Terin told her, pushing a bowl in her direction.
Shaneese toyed with a roll and answered the occasional question from one of the polite weyrfolk who wandered her way, but Fiona felt that the headwoman was holding back something that troubled her.
“Terin’s worried about F’jian,” Fiona began, deciding to provide Shaneese with an opening.
Shaneese’s face clouded even as Terin gave Fiona a hurt look.
“We’re all afraid,” Shaneese said after a moment, giving a comforting look to Terin. Then she turned to Fiona with a thoughtful frown.
“And,” Fiona said, reaching a hand to grab Shaneese’s, “some of us worry needlessly.” She met the woman’s eyes as she said, “You have something you want to tell me?”
Shaneese pulled her hand out of Fiona’s and shook her head wordlessly. “It’s too early.”
“ ‘It’s never too early for good news,’ ” Fiona reminded her.
“ ‘Don’t count your dragons until they’ve hatched,’ ” Shaneese returned with flashing eyes.
“But you’re worried,” Fiona said.
“Would you two please stop talking in sayings and make sense?” Terin broke in.
“Shaneese is pregnant,” Fiona said, with a nod toward the headwoman.
“It’s too early to be certain,” Shaneese cautioned.
“You know,” Fiona said with no doubt in her voice.
“I … think,” Shaneese said, choosing her words carefully.
“And you haven’t told T’mar?”
Shaneese let out a deep breath and nodded.
“Well, I, for one, was hoping this would happen,” Fiona said, reaching for Shaneese’s hand again and clasping it firmly, rocking it to emphasize her point.
“You were,” Terin said. “Why?”
“We can swap duties on smelly babies,” Fiona said casually. She waved her free hand airily. “Besides, it will give me company.”
Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern Page 9