Dragonseye Part 29

"Not only am I being split, I'm also been bisected by these ridges. Did you sharpen them on purpose, T'lel? No wonder riders are so skinny. They'd have to be. Don't dragons grow ridges for large people? I should have had K'vin take me up. Charanth is a much bigger dragon. Why couldn't you have put me up on your bronze, K'vin?" Tisha shouted across the intervening s.p.a.ce.

K'vin was trying to preserve his dignity as Weyrleader by not laughing at the sight of her, but he didn't dare look in her direction again. Instead he swiveled his torso so he could scan everyone, pleased to see all eyes on him, rider, pa.s.sengers and dragon. He peered upwards to the rim where more dragons awaited their departure, poised well clear of the newly positioned Eye and Finger Rocks. Now he raised his arm.

Charrie, they are to a.s.sume their wing positions in the air.

They know, Charnath sounded petulant, for this was a frequent drill. K'vin slapped his neck affectionately with one hand while he gave his upheld right arm the pump.

All the dragons in the Bowl lifted, swirling up dust and grit from the Bowl floor with a battery of wings, and then those on the Rim lifted, sorting themselves out in the air to form their respective wings. Zulaya and the other queens rose above the others.

And in formation in jig time, too. Let's go, Charrie.

With a great leap, Charanth was airborne. One wing-sweep and he was level with the wings, another and he was in front of the queens.

Heads turned upwards and Charanth dutifully angled himself earthward so that all could see the Weyrleader.

Inform the Weyr that our destination is the Sea of Azov.

I have!

K'vin pumped his arm in the continuous gesture to signal, Go between! The entire Weyr blinked out simultaneously.

Steady, he cautioned Charanth, pleased with that disciplined departure. Now we go!!

Three seconds he counted, and then the warm air above the brilliantly blue Sea of Azov was like the smack of a hot towel in his face. Charanth rumbled in pleasure.

K'vin was far more interested in discovering that the ranks of the dragons, wing by wing, had arrived still in formation.

He grinned.

Please inform the wing leaders to take their riders to their separate destinations.

One by one the wings disappeared, with the exception of T'lel's which had picked the Sea area for their excursion site.

The queens started to glide towards the sh.o.r.e too, for they carried quite a few of the supplies which Tisha would need to set up her hearths for the evening meal.

Let's wait and let them all get safely to the surface, K'vin told Charanth, although part of him wanted to see how Tisha managed to dismount Branuth. He was therefore somewhat surprised, and at first a little concerned, when he saw a brown dragon detach itself from the main wing and glide in a landing, on the water, just short of the sh.o.r.e. Charanth had his head down and was observing the effort.

Branuth says she ordered it. She's swimming free of his back.

Charanth sounded amused, too, and K'vin chuckled.

That was much more dignified.

Branuth says it was easier on him, too, but he doesn't think he should do the same back at Telgar.

Not with the water that cold this time of year.

We can now land? Branuth says the sun is warm.

I thought you wanted to hunt. Later. NOW I want to get warm all over.

Charanth's preference was almost unanimous as the dragons spread out on both the pebbled beach and the sh.o.r.e line which was covered with a shrub that, when bruised by large dragon bodies, gave off a rich pungent odor which was not at all unpleasant.

Tisha had some of the weyrfolk off finding kindling and stones to make camp-fires, and to see what fruits might be ripe, and another group set to fish where boulders had tumbled down in to the Sea like a breakwater.

"I'm going for a long swim," Zulaya called out to him as he and Charanth glided to a landing. She was already stripping off her jacket. "Meranath wants one, too." She touched down long enough to strip off the rest of her clothing, which she left in a neat pile on a boulder before making her way to the water.

"What about the grubs?"

"They'll wait," she yelled over her shoulder, wading out until the water was deep enough for swimming.

We don t have to go find grubs now, do we? asked Charanth plaintively, and the eyes he turned up to his rider whirled with a yellow anxiety.

No, we don't, K'vin said. Grubs were an excuse to leave the Weyr for a few days.

He shucked his clothes and dragon and rider joined the others in the warm Azovian waters.

It might not have pleased K'vin to learn that almost every rider procrastinated over the stated objective of the journey south: grubs were, in fact, probably the last thing on anyone's mind. Sunning, swimming in the pleasant waters, hunting for dragons and food-gathering for humans took precedence and s.p.a.ce and time for absolute privacy.

P'tero and M'leng asked permission of V'last, their wing leader to take their dragons hunting.

"Remember what K'vin told you about the sport creatures down here," V'last said, serving the same warning to the other riders wis.h.i.+ng to hunt their dragons.

P'tero and M'leng nodded obediently but, as soon as they left the clearing where their wing had landed on the Malay River, they laughed at the very notion that any creature could be dangerous to their dragons.

"It's really hot here," M'leng said, glancing back at the river.

"We'll be hotter after we've hunted the dragons," said P'tero.

"But once that's done, we really don't have to do another thing until dinner."

"So let's not come back here until just before," M'leng suggested, laughing recklessly. "Or we'll end up having to hunt or fish or gather."

"There're enough weyrfolk with us to do all that - and enjoy," P'tero said, rather condescendingly. "Let's get out of here." He made a running jump and neatly vaulted onto Ormonth's blue back. M'leng simultaneously boarded green Sith.

"What shall we go after?" M'leng asked.

"Whatever we see first," P'tero replied and pumped his arm to send them both aloft. M'leng preferred him to be leader.

They didn't have far to go to see grazing herds of runner beasts, smaller than the ones they were accustomed to seeing in the Holds. But when they also saw other dragons in the sky, gliding in to hunt, P'tero signaled M'leng to fly on in a south-westerly direction. They hadn't gone very far before both found it necessary to strip off their flying jackets, and then their s.h.i.+rts which were winter weight anyhow. P'tero admired M'leng's compact body. The green rider was small boned which had always delighted P'tero, with a surprisingly strong and agile wiry frame. He was also winter-white, right to his collar. He looked so funny, as if he had two different skins.

Then the blue rider became fascinated with the tropical terrain around them, subtly different from the north's warmer Holds. Nerat was rain forests and vast tracks of almost impenetrable jungle except along the western side, whereas Ista was sharp hills and deep valleys, also densely vegetated.

But here a vast gra.s.sland, similar in some respects to the plains of Keroon, spread out in all directions, dotted by up thrusts of bare yellow rock, occasional copses of angular trees with fronds spilling from the crests, and large, wide branched trees like islands. The dragons' flight over some of these caused flocks of wherries and other avian forms to debouch in frantic escape. Can I eat them? Ormonth enquired of his rider, speeding up in case he was allowed to give chase.

What? Those tough mouthfuls? P'tero asked scornfully.

Then he cupped his hands and shouted at M'leng: "Ormonth's hungry enough to eat wherries!"

"Sith wanted to, as well. We'd better feed them," M'leng yelled back. "Over there!" and he pointed to one of the rock piles. One of the spreading trees had grown right up against the pile, shading the long incline to the top.

P'tero thought the formation looked like the prow of a s.h.i.+p, with mids.h.i.+ps plunging into the sea of ground. And the tree a muchly misplaced mast.

M'leng nodded vigorously in approval and pumped his arm, nudging Sith into a wide curve so that they came up to the prow to land. A fine breeze blew against them from the south, cooling the perspiration on their bare torsos.

Immediately they landed, the two young men stripped off their heavy flight pants and boots. They had to put their socks back on, for the rock was far too hot for bare feet.

M'leng, who had good distance vision, covered his eyes with one hand, peering to the west where a long dark line seemed to be moving.

"Oh, good, herd beasts." He hauled Sith's head round and then pushed it in the right direction. "See? You can eat those. Much better than wherries. Off you go, now!" And he gave Sith a thump of dismissal.

"Follow Sith, Ormonth," and P'tero shoved the blue's head to the right. Hunt with her and you can't get into any trouble that way.

"We'll watch from here." Ormonth s.h.i.+fted weight from one diagonal to the other, his whirling eyes with a trace of anxious yellow.

"What's the matter with you?" P'tero demanded, wanting both dragons to be away so that he and M'leng could have some real privacy.

And if the pair were busy enough hunting and eating, they'd pay no attention at all to what their riders were doing.

Smell something!

"M'leng, does Sith smell anything?" P'tero was annoyed, but you didn't ignore your dragon.

"Different smells down here, that's all." M'leng shrugged, his eager expression indicating that he wanted the dragons away as much as P'tero did.

"I'll keep my eyes open," P'tero a.s.sured Ormonth and slapped him peremptorily to be on his way.

The two launched upwards at the same moment and P'tero watched with some pride in the blue's elegant flight att.i.tude as he made height before he would glide down towards his prey.

M'leng slipped in under P'tero's arm.

"Oooh, your hide is hot. We'd best be careful not to burn in this sun."

"We'll be all right if we move a lot."

"And we will, won't we?" They enjoyed each other's company so much that neither was aware when the breeze altered to the west. It still cooled their bare bodies, drying the sweat they had generated. They weren't even aware of much until two things happened at the same instant: Ormonth's angry scream reverberated in P'tero's skull, and he was rammed down hard against M'leng so that he cracked his chin on the rock as sharp things tore into his b.u.t.tocks.

ORMONTH he shrieked mentally and vocally.

M'leng was limp under P'tero as he writhed in agony from whatever was attacking him.

"HELP ME!" he howled, struggling to turn and see that was trying to eat him!

A dark shadow, and the air pressure above him seemed compressed: a most hideous roar sent a carrion stink and hot breath across his bare back! The talons were ripped from his flesh, causing him to shriek again. Something heavy and furry was being hauled across his tortured legs and away! He caught a glimpse of green hide and then blue...

And then something large and tawny that seemed to come from nowhere. A blue tail curled protectingly around him. Above his head he heard Ormonth roaring, which turned to shrieks of pain and anger, but mostly anger. He was mentally a.s.sailed by vivid images and emotions of revenge that were totally alien to a dragon mind.

As waves of almost unendurable agony gripped him, he realized that Ormonth and Sith were rending whatever had attacked him into shreds; showering blood and gobbets of hot flesh all over him. Then he realized that he was lying on top of M'leng, who was suddenly being pulled away. To his horrified eyes, he saw a great brown paw, dirty big yellow claws unsheathing and curling into his weyrmate's back, blood welling up. Despite the pain in his legs and back, he lurched across M'leng and beat at the paw, struggling to lift the claws out of his lover's body.

More noise, more draconic roars, and suddenly there was s.p.a.ce above him, letting in fresh air and the sight of other dragons. Two were attacking the tawny lean creatures that were swarming up the rock out-thrust. The dragons hauled them backwards by their tails or hind quarters while the creatures writhed and roared and spat defiance, turning to attack the dragons. One had curled itself around a brown's forearm, slas.h.i.+ng out at a dragon face.

"M'leng, M'leng, answer me!" P'tero cried, turning his lover's face towards him, slapping his cheeks. Booted feet stopped by M'leng's head.

"Oh help us, help us!" he pleaded, clutching at the boots.

"Help me! I'm dying!" The pain in his legs was so awful.

"Who's got the fellis? Where's the numb weed?"

As P'tero felt himself slipping into oblivion, he wondered how under the sun Zulaya had got here, and if he was dying.

Cathay, Telgar Weyr, Bitra Hold, Telgar

P'tero didn't die, although for some days he wished he had.

The shame of being attacked, of endangering M'leng, of being responsible for the injury of nine dragons - when K'vin had particularly warned everyone to be careful - was almost more than he could bear. M'leng might say that P'tero had saved his life - although he had to have his chest wound st.i.tched but P'tero knew that was incidental in the sequence of the attack. Both Sith and Ormonth had suffered from the fangs and claws of the attacking felines, for the creatures had not been easily quelled. Meranath nursed a bite on her left forearm and a slash on her cheek. P'tero hadn't yet been able to look Zulaya in the eye. V'last's Collith's worst injuries were his forearm, gashed to the bone by the powerful hind legs of the female attacking him. The dragon-lion battle had been fierce while it lasted, for the lions had no fear of the dragons and the entire pride of some fourteen adult beasts had joined battle with them.

Meranath had reacted instantly to Ormonth's shriek - in fact, so quickly that she actually left Zulaya behind. The Weyrwoman had been astonished: dragons simply didn't do that. Though later, Leopol told P'tero, she had laughed about it - since she'd been swimming and would not have appreciated being hauled dripping wet to companion her dragon.

She'd followed, quickly enough, with V'last, K'vin and others who answered the mayday call.

"She was some put out, too," Leopol went on, relis.h.i.+ng the telling, "because the dragons made a mess of good lion fur well, what they didn't eat."

"The dragons ate the lions?" P'tero gasped.

"Sure, why not?" Leopol shrugged, grinning. "The entire pride attacked the dragons. But they let the cubs go, you know, though some folks thought they ought to get rid of all they could find. V'last said Collith said they were quite tasty, if a bit tough to chew. Waste not, want not. But Zulaya really would have liked a lion fur for her bed."

P'tero shuddered. He never wanted anything to do with lions ever again.

"You should a seen yourself brought in, P'tero," Leopol added, gesturing to the temporary quarters which had been set up to tend the badly injured riders. "Charanth himself carried you back in his arms."

"He did?" P'tero's chagrin reached a new depth.

"And O'ney's bronze Queth brought M'leng in. Your wing helped Ormonth and Sith back. Actually, they came in sort of piggy-back on Gorianth and Spelth. They were pretty shaken, you know."

P'tero had heard echoes of that journey from Ormonth who, bless his heart, had never once criticized his rider: another source of infinite distress to P'tero. The blue had been intensely grateful to his weyrmates for their a.s.sistance, as he couldn't leave his rider out of his sight. It had been all the other dragons could do - although Leopol did not relate this - to rea.s.sure Ormonth and Sith that neither of their riders would die.

The Weyr had set up a hasty camp to tend the injured for some, like P'tero and Collith, couldn't risk being taken between until their wounds had scabbed over. K'vin had sent to Fort for Corey to st.i.tch the worst injuries. Maranis, the Weyr medic, was more than competent for the dragons' wounds, but he needed rea.s.surance on his treatment of the two injured riders. Messengers had gone back to Telgar Weyr to rea.s.sure those whose dragons had reported the accident and to bring back more equipment for an extended stay.

In their innocence, the two young riders had chosen a site just above the cave home of a pride of lions. P'tero had never even heard of lions. Evidently he could thank Tubberman for their existence, for they'd broken out of Calusa and bred quite handily in the wild.

"They were," Leopol told him with great relish, "some of the sport beasts that Tubberman had been experimenting with. They had got loose, after killing Tubberman."

This was not much consolation to P'tero while he lay on his stomach to let the deep fang and claw-marks heal.