Dragon’s Time: Dragonriders of Pern

by Anne; Todd J. Mccaffrey Mccaffrey

  It would be a waste, Lorana said. I don’t eat as much as you.

  Minith gave the mental equivalent of a draconic shrug and continued happily chewing on her meal, freely relaying every hunger slaked, every morsel of meat torn.

  There had to be traders nearby. They would have fire-lizards, too, Minith could track them on those—fire-lizards liked talking with dragons.

  Fire-lizards. Lorana closed her eyes and sighed as she thought of Grenn and Garth. She was still immensely pleased to know that Grenn had survived the fantastic trip back in time, the evidence of which was in the three-linked locket that Tullea had found in the Ancient Rooms when they’d been working on the cure for the dragon sickness.

  Tullea had only given Lorana the locket when she’d come back from High Reaches Weyr with her queen cured of the illness. That locket had included Grenn’s picture—he was perched on the shoulder of a scar-faced man. Was Minith protected from disease now that she had had the cure? Should Lorana worry about re-infecting the queen?

  She thought for a moment and shook her head. The cure made the sickness impossible. The disease could not spread to Minith, her body had been so completely changed. Someday, perhaps another illness might come that could affect the dragons, but it would be thousands of Turns at least. For now, no dragon inoculated with the cure could catch the sickness. That much, Lorana admitted with a bittersweet feeling, she’d accomplished.

  Lorana, Minith spoke to her softly, look up.

  Lorana peered upward and saw a small green figure hovering above her.

  Hello, Lorana thought to the fire-lizard. Are you hungry?

  I’ve plenty, I can share, Minith added. The fire-lizard turned toward the queen in the distance, squawked in surprise and disappeared between.

  Minith, Lorana added thoughtfully, could you kill another for the fire-lizard?

  It won’t eat as much as you, Minith remarked, even as she leaped into the air, searching out a fresh kill.

  Kill it cleanly, please; it’s going to be my lunch, too, I suspect.

  I thought you liked yours only after you’d flamed it all smoky, Minith responded, her tone tinged with curiosity.

  I suspect I’ll get my smoky fire and cooking soon enough, Lorana said, rising to her feet and scanning the horizon. Your kill will give me something to trade.

  Soon enough, Lorana spotted the distinct shapes of several trader drays lumbering on the horizon. She was in a cool, grassy spot while they still toiled with their wide wheels in the desert sand and heat.

  She waited. The green fire-lizard returned, skittishly scouting the area out. He gave a small sound of delight as he noticed the fresh kill, but at Minith’s urging, he took a bite only from the queen’s leftovers. Minith said approvingly, That’s right, the other is for the humans.

  The humans arrived soon enough. A very tall man, with shoulders so broad and muscled he looked as though he could lift one of the workbeasts himself, left the lead dray and approached her slowly, his eyes squinting against the light. From Fiona’s description, she knew he was Azeez, the trader who had helped—or would help—the injured dragonriders and young weyrlings who would shortly come back in time to Igen Weyr to recover and grow into maturity. And he had piercing green eyes, so like those that Tenniz had spoken of when describing his wife.

  Standing back by the dray was a tall, lanky boy. He was younger than when she’d last seen him, but very recognizable as Tenniz.

  “Is Javissa your daughter, then, that she is with Tenniz?” Lorana asked as the man came within earshot.

  The man’s eyes widened and he stopped, taken aback. He glanced beyond her to the gold hide of Minith.

  “I do not know what you are talking about,” the man replied haughtily.

  “That’s Tenniz beyond you,” Lorana said, pointing. “He sees the future.” She sighed, her expression sad. “He and I will meet in the future.”

  “In the future?” Azeez repeated. He gestured for Tenniz to join them. Tenniz rapped on the side of the dray and, as he moved to join them, a figure emerged from within the dray, taking guard. Lorana caught a glimpse of green eyes, a smattering of freckles on a swarthy face, jet-black hair, a trim figure.

  “Javissa,” Lorana breathed, surprised not only at the accuracy of Tenniz’s description of her, but also of her beauty. She was truly as remarkable, with her pure, piercing green eyes and delicately etched face, as Tenniz had said.

  “What did you say?” Azeez asked, moving closer toward her so as to keep the others out of her sight.

  “I said Javissa,” Lorana said, moving slightly to one side so that she could see beyond him and nodding toward the lithe form climbing down to take guard position beside the dray. “She is beautiful.” She cocked her head at him. “She’s your daughter?”

  “She is,” Azeez admitted. “But how do you know this?” Azeez had a good reason for the question. His dark eyes were nothing like his daughter’s, his features were more broad, and his build was large and massive, while Javissa’s was thin and light.

  “Tenniz,” Lorana said, gesturing to the approaching youth who raised his head at her naming.

  “How long have they been married?” Lorana asked.

  “They’ve been together for most of their lives,” Azeez said. Lorana detected some hidden feeling in the older man’s voice, as though he didn’t approve of their union, but had resigned himself to it. “They’ve been partnered now for three.”

  “And they have just one child?” Lorana asked, her eyes going to Javissa’s figure, spotting the signs of a nursing mother; signs that in her slim shape were only subtle hints. Lorana saw the way Azeez tensed nervously and she stretched her arms out at her side, palms out.

  “I’m sorry, I know this may be a great shock to you,” she said. “In this time, we’ve never met, but I’ve heard about you.” Her eyes cut toward Tenniz. It was hard to see this young man with the memory of the cairn at Red Butte still fresh in her mind. “And I’ve met you already.”

  “In the future,” Azeez breathed, his eyes going wide and worried as he turned his gaze from her to Tenniz behind him and back again.

  “You are the beacon!” Tenniz said as he took in Lorana fully. He raced up toward her and dropped to one knee in front of her. “How may we help you?”

  “I thought to trade,” Lorana said, smiling down at the serious young man and wondering what he could possibly mean by “beacon.” Behind him, she heard Azeez gasp in surprise—the word clearly had significance to him. Her stomach growled, reminding her to attend first to her business. Explanations could wait for later.

  “Minith was kind enough to dispatch a large herdbeast, I was hoping to trade you the raw meat for a cooked meal, and perhaps some conversation.” She paused and looked beyond to the dray. “Is Mother Karina with you? I would like to meet her.”

  Not long afterward, Lorana found herself in a circle with eight traders around a small fire, its flames barely visible in the afternoon sun. Lorana watched as they prepared the carcass, carefully saving the skin and other choice pieces, while carving the meat into smaller, manageable portions.

  In the shadiest spot, Mother Karina sat on a stool and, nearby, Javissa, also ensconced on one of the light canvas stools, was feeding her baby.

  “She’s the one?” Mother Karina asked Tenniz.

  “Yes.”

  Mother Karina eyed Lorana for a long while. “Do you have any trader blood?”

  “My father was a beastmaster, we roamed between Benden, Bitra, and Lemos,” Lorana said, shaking her head. She was surprised by the knowing looks exchanged between some of the traders.

  “The Plague?” Mother Karina asked.

  “No,” Lorana said, deciphering her cryptic question. “My father was killed after by a blow to the head from a frightened beast.”

  “Your mother?”

  “Mother, brother, and sister were all taken by the Plague,” Lorana said, the pain of that loss welling up once more in her heart. She could take Minith to see
them, save them—her lips tightened and she shook her head slightly as she banished the thought: if she could have done it, she would have, just as J’trel had told her over a Turn ago—rather, Turns in the future still to come. You cannot break time, she reminded herself, her eyes straying sadly to the young Tenniz.

  “So, you said you wish to trade,” Mother Karina said.

  “I thought just—” Lorana broke off, remembering spatterings of conversations with Fiona. She hadn’t heard all about their trip back in time to Igen, but she had heard enough, and more when she’d been given Tenniz’s locket. Her hand twitched and she moved to place it out of sight under her tunic.

  Her movement was her undoing, for Tenniz gestured toward her, asking, “May I see it?”

  “Do you know what it is?”

  Tenniz frowned. “I see snatches of the future,” he admitted, “not all of it.” He shook his head as though giving up on his chance for one fragment of the future. “I know it is important.”

  “It is dangerous to know too much about the future,” Lorana cautioned.

  Tenniz smiled and nodded firmly. “That I understand.”

  Lorana found herself grinning back, almost able to forget her last moments with him; moments in her past, but still in his future.

  “It does no good to cry about what will be,” Lorana murmured to herself, struggling to hold back tears.

  At that moment, Tenniz broke into a wracking cough. Lorana recognized it and was surprised that she hadn’t heard it from him before now—clearly the cough got worse as time went on.

  “True,” Tenniz said when he recovered, glancing swiftly at Javissa and then back to Lorana, “but it is also foolish to hold back grief when it comes.”

  “So we should cry today for what will be tomorrow?”

  “We should cry when we hurt, let the tears cleanse us, and move on,” Tenniz replied.

  Mother Karina cleared her throat loudly, catching their attention and said somewhat emphatically, “Perhaps I should let you two conduct the trade.”

  “I’ve said that before,” Tenniz agreed dryly. Karina glared at him, but the younger man did not flinch.

  “You would give away everything,” Karina swore.

  “And what’s the harm in that,” Lorana wondered, “if the one you trade with does the same?”

  Karina and several of the traders looked astounded at the notion.

  “Profit comes when both feel they had fair bargain,” Lorana said.

  “You are a trader!” Karina exclaimed.

  “My father used to say it,” Lorana said with a shrug. “I thought it only common sense.”

  “Common sense among traders,” Azeez said, eyeing her intently. “Among crafters and holders, the thinking is different.”

  “Worse, with dragonriders,” one of the others muttered darkly.

  Lorana searched for the speaker but could not identifty him, so she chose to speak directly to Mother Karina. “I am a dragonrider, I was the daughter of a holder, and was considered by many to be a crafter.”

  Karina’s eyes picked out the offending speaker, glaring, “Abab, you need to learn more of silence. Speak not for another month, and trade not for thrice that.”

  Abab lowered his eyes, his face dark with shame.

  “He has shamed us,” Javissa spoke up, shifting her baby from one arm to the other. She turned toward Lorana. “We are in your debt.”

  “If hot mouths were not allowed to speak, there’d be no breezes,” Lorana said, dismissing the issue. Again the traders exchanged surprised looks. Lorana creased her brow. “Is that another trader saying?”

  “It is,” Mother Karina agreed. “But Javissa speaks rightly in this.”

  “Listen to her,” Tenniz said, his voice sounding odd, full of vision.

  Lorana laughed, raised a finger and shook it at him. “Never pretend, you’ll fool no one!”

  Tenniz flushed, but across from him Javissa’s voice peeled with laughter and she had to use both hands to hold her baby as she giggled. “I told you!”

  “When you have told me your visions, they have had a sense of Power behind them,” Lorana said to the young man. “A sense of rightness, a strength that cannot be denied.” She frowned for a moment, adding, “It is akin to the dragons’ power.”

  “You are not here by accident,” Mother Karina said. “What sent you?”

  Lorana quickly glanced away from Tenniz, her eyes straying toward Javissa but the green-eyed woman was quick-witted and her eyes widened; she knew what had sent Lorana. Lorana shook her head at the girl, willing her to hold the secret, and Javissa gave her an imperceptible nod in response.

  It was all for nothing.

  “I did,” Tenniz said. His eyes met Lorana’s. “Our paths have crossed once already for you.”

  “Yes,” Lorana agreed softly. “Some Turns in the future.”

  “She’s the one?” Javissa blurted suddenly, her eyes on Tenniz.

  Tenniz nodded bleakly.

  “Why is it that you are to spend the last night with my husband?” Javissa demanded of Lorana.

  “Instead of you?” Lorana guessed, shaking her head. “I do not know.”

  “That’s not your dragon,” Tenniz said suddenly, as if fitting pieces of a puzzle together.

  “Tullea is Minith’s rider,” Lorana agreed. “She offered her to me in exchange for—” Lorana broke off, not knowing what to reveal.

  Tenniz didn’t hear her, his expression changing swiftly as he intoned, “The way forward is dark and long. A dragon gold is only the first price you’ll pay for Pern.”

  “Is this true?” Karina breathed, looking at Lorana, then Tenniz, as the lad recovered from wherever he had been and sighed deeply with fatigue. “Have you paid with a dragon gold?”

  Lorana nodded, the tears flowing from her eyes and she bowed her head into her hands, unable to look at the traders anymore, unable to think of anything save Arith and her own empty womb.

  Arms surrounded her in silence. She smelled the warm, wet baby breath of little Jeriz, felt the kind warmth of Javissa, felt the strength of Azeez gathered behind her, felt Mother Karina’s arms on her shoulder, in her hair, caressing it while crooning wordlessly, felt Tenniz in front of her, his hands on her knees.

  “In the name of all traders, I claim this one,” Karina spoke in a voice that was deep, melodious, authoritative.

  “We hear this claim,” the traders chanted in response—even Abab spoke, clearly released for this from his silence, his voice firm, unwavering.

  “Lorana is ours, flesh of our flesh, blood of our blood, until the ending of the days,” Karina continued.

  “Flesh of flesh, blood of blood,” the others chanted back.

  “As her heart wills, so shall we do,” Karina said. “Her price is our price, nothing is too great.”

  “Her heart wills, we will pay the price,” the others chanted in response.

  “I name you Beacon, the light of the way,” Tenniz’s voice spoke up, strong and vibrant.

  “Beacon,” the traders agreed.

  “Ask what you will of us, your price is paid,” Karina said, ending the ritual.

  Lorana opened her eyes slowly in wonder, staring at the eyes surrounding her. In the distance, she felt Minith’s strong approval, the queen’s sense of rightness in this moment, of her own commitment.

  “I cannot ask too much of you,” Lorana said out loud, meaning her words for Minith.

  You hear my heart, Minith corrected her. You hear all the dragon hearts.

  “There is nothing you cannot ask,” Javissa spoke for the traders, leaning closer to Lorana. She lowered her voice for Lorana’s ears alone as she explained, “The only offense you can give is not to ask in need.”

  “I would not have you lose by it,” Lorana said. “Of course,” Tenniz agreed. “But you are Beacon. Traders will square accounts.”

  “What do you mean by Beacon?” Lorana asked him.

  Mother Karina answered, gesturing toward Ten
niz. “Once in a generation, if we are lucky—and we try to be lucky—we are gifted with one who can see something of the future.”

  Lorana nodded, she’d learned this already from the future Tenniz as well as from Jeila, Shaneese, and Fiona.

  “In the hundreds of Turns since we’ve been on this planet,” Karina continued, “our seers have spotted several Beacons.”

  Lorana gave her an inquiring look.

  “One was Torene,” Azeez said.

  “She could speak to any dragon,” Lorana said, recalling her Teaching Ballads. “Is a Beacon one who can speak to dragons?”

  “More,” Karina said. “More even than we understand. All we know is that when we find a Beacon, we support her.”

  “Always to our profit,” Azeez added.

  “Sometimes in ways that take time to reveal,” Javissa said.

  “But always to our profit,” Karina concluded. “So we know that supporting you will be to our benefit.”

  “Which makes it easy to offer our help,” Tenniz said. He shook his head at Mother Karina.

  “So, what help can we give you, Beacon?” Karina asked.

  “Firstly, call me Lorana,” Lorana said. She paused then, as she remembered what Fiona had said about her journey to Igen Weyr and how the traders were ready for them, had laid in supplies.

  “I think there is something you can do,” she said. “And I think it will be to your profit.”

  Quickly she explained what she wanted, sketching out the details as she recalled. She spoke of medical supplies for the injured, of gathering food for about one hundred and fifty—she couldn’t quite remember the exact number and wondered if that was good enough or if she should go forward in time—

  “Oh!” Lorana said, suddenly startled by her own thought. The others looked at her expectantly. She shook her head and apologized, “I hadn’t realized something.”

  “You’ve no fear of secrets with us,” Karina vowed.

  “Sometimes it is dangerous to know too much of the future,” Lorana said.

  “True,” Tenniz agreed.

  “Continue,” Karina said, nodding in acceptance.