DragonStorm Ch. 05

Darian followed his friend to the inner weyr. Seradan was in the middle of the floor, rolling a ball back and forth with Talmir. Tryliri sat at the table. She smiled up as her weyrmate and guest approached. "Hello, Masterhealer. How are you feeling today?"

"Fine, thank you," he replied. He crossed the weyr, stepping around the boys, and took a seat next to the blonde. His fingers immediately sought out her distended belly, gently probing its entire surface. "Well, mother of three, soon to be four, how are you doing?"

"Okay, just sore. I'd really like to get this over with." She glanced at her mate, who returned a patient, affectionate smile.

"Hang on, sunshine. Can't be too much longer, can it, Masterhealer?"

Darian regarded her carefully, running first his fingers, then the flat of his hands across her stomach. He gave a slight shrug. "Another four to six seven-days, I think."

Tryliri groaned. Her mate's stifled snicker didn't help any. "Oh, well," she speculated, "at least I'll have company in a while."

"Oh?" the masterhealer inquired. "Somebody I know?"

"From the noise in Cosira's weyr last night, I think you'll have her for a patient fairly soon."

Brownrider and avion exchanged grins. Darian tugged at the bandage on his hand. "They did seem to be enjoying themselves."

"That reminds me," T'marek interjected, "our fearless leader's looking for you. Said whoever found you first was to send you to him."

"Oh? When'd you see him?"

"They graced us with their presence at the evening meal. Looked like two kids in a sweet shop. If they'd been any happier, I'd've gotten sick."

"Be fair, Tim," Tryliri scolded her mate. "They were in a mating flight yesterday. What did you expect?"

"That was obvious," he grinned.

Darian smirked sourly. He could imagine what the pair looked like. At the moment, he'd prefer to do just that. He didn't want to see them. He didn't know how he would react to Cosira or how either of the weyrmates would react to him. He decided to delay a few more minutes, so he slid to the floor, scooping up Seradan. "Hello, Rad, how're you?"

The tike stared at him. As his eyes focused on the avion they shifted rapidly from the elliptical eyes to the top of the wings to the barely exposed fangs. Searching wildly for Tryliri, the boy began to cry.

Darian sighed resignedly, handing the child to his foster mother. "Guess he doesn't recognize me anymore."

"Don't be silly," Tryliri snapped. "You just startled him, that's all. Give him a minute."

"Don't have one. Have either of you seen Sel this afternoon?"

T'marek nodded. "She's probably back at her weyr by now. She had Scylenth down at the weyrling barracks earlier. They're starting her formal flight training."

"That's some queen," Tryliri added. "I've never seen one grow that fast."

"Yeah, I know." The Cygnan stood up, offering his hand to T'marek. The brownrider gripped his forearm. "Thanks for the visit. Guess I'd better see what our exalted metalhead wants."

T'marek snickered. "Don't stay away so long. We could stand to see you here more often. And bring Sel with you."

"Sure, if Scylenth can spare the time."

They walked to the ledge. Kelth was there now. The brown nuzzled his alien friend, getting an affectionate scratch on the eye ridge in return. T'marek smiled at both. He placed his hand on the avion's shoulder. "Take it easy, Darian. We'll find an answer somewhere. And give G'dened a chance. He's a good man."

"I know that, and I have. I just hope he realizes it."

The brownrider furrowed his brow at the comment but had no time to ask about its meaning.

Darian was already airborne. He eased to his left, dropping toward the senior queen's quarters. Feathering his wings, he made a quiet landing between the sleeping dragons. He was about to walk in when instinct warned him to ask first. "G'dened? Cosira? You up to company?"

A baritone chuckle answered the call. The Weyrleader's voice rang back to the ledge. "Come on in, masterhealer. We've been expecting you."

Darian walked through the outer weyr, past Caylith's couch and into the living chamber. The Weyrleaders were seated at the table, sharing a glass of wine. G'dened poured a third, setting it across from himself and indicating the seat to his guest.

The Cygnan gazed uneasily at the riders. The greeting was more cordial than expected but he remained alert and nervous. There was no way of knowing how the weyrmates felt about his role in yesterday's flight. He doubted they were pleased by it.

Their appearance seemed to belie his concerns. Cosira glowed with a radiance he'd seen only once in his life. The happy flush in her cheeks and the contentment in her eyes reassured him slightly. The queenrider smiled coyly at him, running her fingers across her mate's hand.

G'dened looked relaxed and satiated. There was an ease and humor about him that had been missing for the past month or more. Darian began to suspect the confrontation he feared might be avoided.

"How are you this evening?" the Weyrleader asked.

"Fine, thank you. The two of you seem to be in good spirits."

"We are. Yesterday's was the most enjoyable mating flight we've ever experienced, thanks to you." He slid his hand over Cosira's, squeezing her fingers.

She smiled at him, then looked at Darian. "And the most frustrating," she added, winking.

The avion went instantly on the defensive. He knew with awful certainty that they remembered exactly how much of a role he'd played. His eyes moved to the bronzerider, who continued to smile at him.

"Relax, masterhealer," G'dened chuckled. "Nobody's angry. In fact, we're grateful to you. We just need to talk to you. There are some questions we'd like answered."

The avion tried to relax. "I expected you'd be furious," Darian admitted, lowering his guard slightly. He glanced back at Cosira. She was watching him over the wineglass at her lips, but he saw a definite flush in her cheeks and glint in her eyes.

"Why? You behaved exactly like any dragonman would have. You did nothing wrong. But you did do something very peculiar."

"What's that?"

"I'm fully aware that Astaroth flew circles around Barnath. You had the Weyr and you had Cosira. Why did you give them back?"

"I don't want the Weyr and I don't want Cosira." He paused, bowing his head to the Weyrwoman. "No offense, Lady Cosira, but all I want is my wife. My method was crude, and I apologize. I was hoping to make a point. I seem to have failed."

G'dened frowned, lifting his goblet. He took a long drink. "You didn't."

The avion's head snapped back to face the Weyrleader. G'dened's smile was gone, replaced by a pensive expression. There was no anger or irritation in his eyes, only an earnest concern. He gazed thoughtfully at his wine, watching the liquid swirl as he slowly moved the goblet in a circular motion.

"Darian," he explained, "we're dragonfolk. That doesn't mean we've resigned from the human race. We feel the same emotions other humans do, and apparently the same ones avions feel. We accept our lifestyle out of loyalty to our dragons and to Pern. It's not always exactly what we want, but we accept it. I could see you and Cosira yesterday. I was very much aware that you'd taken her from me. It hurt. It hurt a lot. But there was nothing I could do about it. Your dragon had outflown mine and claimed hers. By simple biological necessity she was yours. My personal desires don't exempt me from that. Neither does being a Weyrleader. The dragons come first."

"So, you'd have let me take her?"

G'dened shook his head. "Letting you has nothing to do with it. Astaroth won her. As a member of my Weyr, you had every right to participate in that flight. When Astaroth caught Caylith, you won Cosira. What I was willing or unwilling to allow is meaningless."

The Cygnan turned a tired frown on the bronzerider. "You know, I'm getting flaming tired of hearing about rights and customs. Isn't there any room here for what people feel, for what they want to do with their own lives?"

"We know what love is," Cosira replied. "We have all the emotions of any holder or crafthaller. Remember, we don't start out with dragons. We have to impress them. Actually, they impress us. That's closer to how it happens. Our dragons give us marvelous strength and freedom, a love and companionship nothing else can compare to. But there's a big price for that. We give up the right to place any person above our dragon, including ourselves. In a way, we become slaves. Our dragons always come first, ahead of any of our desires." She paused, sipping at her wine. Her azure eyes sought his out as she continued. "When you took me yesterday, you could have done anything you wanted to me. I would have surrendered willingly. But that's not because I don't love G'dened. Do you know how many other men I've slept with?"

Darian watched carefully, waiting for her to continue. When he realized she wanted him to answer, he shook his head.

"None. Despite our reputation, many queenriders stay with one weyrmate for long periods of time, sometimes most of their lives. You can't do that if you don't love someone. But I'd have given myself to you willingly. Not because I didn't want G'dened and not because I wanted you, but because Caylith wanted Astaroth. Anything my queen wants, I do. I can't resist her in a mating flight."

For several minutes, the only sounds were occasional sips of wine and the soft clink of glass against wood. Darian stared at his glass, absorbing what the Weyrleaders had told him. Only now did he understand what his black had told him. The ploy had been childish and dangerous. He'd risked all his principles, all his beliefs, for nothing. He'd succeeded totally in what he wanted to accomplish, with no gain.

"Why didn't you want the Weyr?" G'dened asked.

"I can't lead a Weyr. I don't know how to lead fighting dragons. Astaroth can't fly between. My administrative abilities are marginal at best. I'm a fighter, not an organizer."

"You organized that law enforcement scheme fairly well. It made good sense."

"That's something I've been doing for cycles. I'm familiar with it. This isn't."

"Hmmm. Did you give any thought to what you'd have done if Astaroth had decided to fly Caylith anyhow? Or do you have that much control over him?"

"No, I don't have that much control. I'd have named you senior wingleader and put you in charge of the Weyr. Caylith would have risen again, probably in a matter of weeks. Astaroth would have ensured that Barnath flew her."

G'dened shook his head. He peered at Darian with patent disapproval. "Now that is blatant interference. Whoever flies any queen should win her fairly. I appreciate the thought, but I wouldn't want the Weyrleadership under those conditions. You've got to understand. No rider could command the respect of the others if they felt the flight had been fixed. Without that respect, you can't be effective as a leader."

"I know. That's why I'm telling everyone that Astaroth made a mistake. They know your bronze a lot better than my black. Most of them will buy it."

"I don't think it matters. Only Quarelth had a better chance than Barnath of catching her, and R'travil will have a hard time getting any one to listen to his complaints. Even if he knows something unusual happened, I doubt he knows enough to have a really good idea."

Darian sighed bleakly. He finished his wine, staring at the empty glass. A sense of utter hopelessness began to crowd in on him. "So. I jeopardized your Weyr and everything both of us believe in to prove a point that doesn't exist."

"Not at all. You made a very good point. Maybe not in the way you intended, but you made it. You and Selana are not dragonfolk. No, I haven't changed my mind. She's going to have to learn to think and behave like a dragonrider. She has a queen to care for. But it would be utterly unfair of me to force our standards on you. I have some idea of how important your marriage is and how real your concerns are. I won't allow an open flight unless Selana insists on it, and I won't declare a restricted flight. I have too many bronzes here. But there are alternatives."

"Such as?"

"Would you be willing to stand as a candidate at the next hatching? With your affinity for dragons, you should be able to impress a bronze. Remember, the queens have more to do with who wins mating flights than the bronzes. If Scylenth chooses your bronze, your problem is solved."

Darian grimaced, shaking his head. "That's if I impress a bronze, and if Scylenth chooses him, and if he's capable of out flying the others. That's a lot of ifs. It's also a turn and a half to two turns too late. She'll have risen several times before a new bronze would be ready to mate. I'm better off with Astaroth."

"It only takes about a turn for a bronze to be ready to mate," the Weyrleader pointed out.

Darian frowned. "Maybe. I still don't like the idea. I have a dragon."

G'dened shrugged. He offered his glass to Cosira, who refilled it. She also topped the avion's goblet, passing it back to him. "Short term, you are better off with Astaroth. Long term, no. It's your choice. If you or Selana have another dragon or two you'd like to have in the flight, let me know. I'll make the arrangements. That's all I can do."

The Cygnan picked up his glass. He took a long drink. "I feel like I'm right back where we started. We're not getting anywhere."

"Not really," Cosira said softly. "We understand each other better now, and we want to help. That's some progress. We still have time."

"Think it over," G'dened suggested, "particularly the possibility of impressing a bronze of your own. I want to help but my options are limited."

The avion stood up, preparing to leave. Both Weyrleaders followed. "We have a full turn, maybe a turn and a half," the bronzerider continued. "Let's not waste it. If we try hard enough, we should be able to come up with something." Darian nodded. "And tell Selana what's going on. She needs to know, too."

They walked slowly to the ledge. Barnath opened one sleepy eye, crooning hello as G'dened patted his muzzle. The Weyrleader then extended his arm. Darian took it. "Thank you for giving me my Weyr back, and my weyrmate."

Cosira moved beside him, kissing him on the cheek. "Don't give up. We've got a lot of time yet, and Selana's worth fighting for."

Darian returned a tired smile. "Now that we agree on." But before he could reach the ledge, the Weyrwoman added a final thought.

"Oh, and next time," she suggested, giving him a coy smile, "don't call him off."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Dragonmaster, look beyond,

after knowledge thirst.

Find the answer, seek the truth,

but know the question first!

9th Pass -- Year 26 -- September

(Ista Weyr, September 30th)

"I don't see how that helps," Darian argued. "We don't need extra width in the wing."

"Yes, we do," Pr'sin disagreed. "Extra width means they don't have to work as hard. There's less chance they'll get hurt. That's why putting Scylenth in the three slot and you at right pivot works better. A five-dragon flight gives better coverage than a three. I don't understand why you want to fly a diamond and one."

Cosira listened closely. Ever since G'dened had suggested the new queen was nearly ready to join the queens wing, the debate on how to form the wing had raged. Most Weyrs had no more than three queens, so formations were of no concern. They flew a standard "V", just as Ista had to this point. With the pending addition of a fourth gold dragon, the Weyr and the queens' wingleader faced a pleasant problem.

"Scylenth is big and quick," the Cygnan insisted. "She'll do well at a pivot. Leave her in the three spot, put Valkryth in the high slot, me at a high trailer. That way, Valkryth can spot any heavy clumps that might get through, or she could react to the outside if a turn pulls the wing away from a split drop. I could cover all of them and still be free to assist the upper wings. If we fly five wide, we lose all flexibility."

Pr'sin grimaced, turning toward the Weyrwoman. "It's your choice, but I think two slot riders is a waste of dragonstrength."

Cosira smiled at the wingleader. "I see your point, Pr'sin, but I agree with Darian. We really don't need to fly five wide in a queens wing. I like the diamond formation. Benden has five queens, and they fly a diamond and one. It feels good knowing there's someone behind you if you need help. Besides, if it's good enough for Ramoth, it's good enough for Caylith."

"Scylenth's totally inexperienced. Putting her at a pivot is dangerous."

"So was Talonth when he was a weyrling," Elysina indicated. "She's got to start somewhere. There's no safe place in a Fall."

T'marek raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. "Looks like we're out-voted," he told his wingleader. He chuckled at the bronzerider's mumbled response. Queenriders always got their way anyhow, so what did he expect?

He was pleased to see the avion actively involved in Weyr matters again. Since Caylith's unique mating flight, the Cygnan's attitude had gradually improved. He seemed happier, more in control of himself. That aggressive drive and insatiable curiosity had resurfaced. There were even rumors that Darian might be a candidate for one of the eggs hardening on the hatching grounds. Things could prove most interesting should the avion impress a bronze.

T'marek was the only member of the debate circle to notice surreptitious motion above and behind the winged rider. He started to look up when a strong thought halted him.

'Don't move. Not a sound.'

The brownrider stayed motionless. From the corner of his eye, he saw a black dragon go into a silent hover. Gradually losing altitude, Astaroth moved stealthily toward his rider.

"Maybe two or three seven-days," Cosira was explaining. Everyone was watching her closely.

Astaroth took advantage of their concentration. He swooped suddenly, releasing a violent bellow. The surprise was devastating. Five riders jumped and Darian ducked as a brilliant fireball exploded directly behind him. Reacting instinctively to imminent danger, he sprang into the air.

Astaroth swept to the right, releasing another blazing bolt under the avion's feet, forcing him higher. Darian swung toward his weyr. He was headed with ease. The black passed to his left, barring the way with another stream of flame. The avion spun back toward the middle of the Weyr, the dragon in leisurely pursuit.

'Astaroth! What in the blazes are you doing?' he demanded.

'Enjoying myself,' the black replied smugly. He continued herding his quarry toward the center of the crater. Snapping the powerful wings, he cut off the winged rider's path out of the Weyr. Both fliers turned hard to their right.

The riders on the ground watched the spectacle above. At first disoriented by the unexpected assault, they soon realized the black dragon was toying with his companion. T'marek began to chuckle, Elysina to giggle. Pr'sin had his hands on his hips, staring open-mouthed at the one-sided chase. Cosira cackled with unrestrained glee. "This is great!"

Darian spun, dove, swooped and hovered, all to no effect. Each darting turn, each evasive spin, was easily matched by the dragon. All attempts to reach the safety of a weyr were futile. Astaroth pushed him into smaller and smaller circles, until he was flying in such a tight spin, he began losing altitude. The black backed into a hover, waiting for the avion to right himself.

The Cygnan came out of his gyration, facing the dragon with bared fangs. A violent screech echoed across the Weyrbowl as he charged. Astaroth waited as the gap closed, then folded his wings. He dropped below his attacker's flight path, snapping his tail.

Feet thrown over his head by the sudden impact, Darian tumbled wildly across the Weyrbowl. He righted himself, only to have the black's wingtip tumble him again. Astaroth bounced him mercilessly from wing to wing, covering much of the length of the Weyrbowl. The avion's head spun miserably.