A Gift of Dragons (17 page)

“With the punch you can deliver, my girl,” he answered, “you can bet your last mark I’m not about to risk my brother’s fate.”

He also found other chilled drinks for her to drink instead of more wine. She appreciated that even more. Especially when the music of the toss dance began. The floor cleared of all save a few hardy couples.

“Shall we?” and Haligon’s grin was all the challenge she needed.

The ache in her right shin was really minor and her confidence in his partnering had grown throughout the evening; otherwise she would not have taken his dare.

During the pattern of the dance, the female partner was to be swung as high as possible, and if she was very clever, she would twirl in midair before being caught by the male. It would be a dangerous dance, but it was ever so much fun. Tenna’s older brother had taught her and given her enough practice so that she was well able to make the turns. It had ensured her partners at any Gather in the east once it was known how light she was and what a good dancer.

From the very first toss, she knew that Haligon was the best partner she’d ever had. There was great cheering for them when she managed a full two turns in the air before he caught her. In one of the rare close movements of the dance, he whispered swift instructions so that she was prepared for the final toss. And able to execute it, sure he would be there to keep her from crashing on the floor. She was close enough to being missed so that the spectators gasped just as he caught her half a handspan above the floor. Another girl was not so lucky but suffered no more than the indignity of the fall.

Cleve, Rosa, Spacia, Grolly, and most of the station crowded about them when they left the dance floor, congratulating them on such a performance. They were offered drinks, meat rolls, and other delicacies.

“Upholding the honor of the station,” Cleve loudly proclaimed. “And the Hold, of course,” he magnanimously added, bowing to Haligon.

“Tenna’s the best partner I’ve ever had,” Haligon replied sincerely, mopping his face.

Then Torlo reached through the crowd and tapped Tenna’s shoulder.

“You’re on the run list, Tenna,” he said, emphasizing the warning with a nod.

“To the coast?”

“Aye, as you wished.” Torlo gave Haligon a severe look.

“I’ll escort you to the station, then, Tenna?” Haligon asked.

The harpers had struck up another slow dance. Rosa and Spacia were looking intensely at Tenna but she couldn’t interpret their glances. She also knew her duty as a runner.

“This is the last dance then.” And she took Haligon by the arm and led him to the floor.

Haligon tucked her in against him and she let her body relax against his and to his leading. She had never had such a Gather in her life. She could almost be glad that he’d run her off the trace and so started the events that had culminated in this lovely night.

They said nothing, both enjoying the flow of the dance and the sweet music. When it ended, Haligon led her from the floor, holding her right hand in his, and toward the station, its glowbasket shining at the door.

“So, Runner Tenna, you finish your first Cross. It won’t be your last, will it?” Haligon asked as they paused just beyond the circle of light. He lifted his hand and lightly brushed back the curls.

“No, it’s unlikely to. I’m going to run as long as I’m able.”

“But you’ll be Crossing often, won’t you?” he asked, and she nodded. “So, if sometime in the future, when I’ve got my own holding . . . I’m going to breed runners . . . beasts, that is,” he qualified hastily, and she almost laughed at his urgent correction. “I’ve been trying to find the strain I want to breed, you see, and used the traces as sort of the best footing for comparison. I mean, is there any chance you might . . . possibly . . . consider running more often on this side of the world?”

Tenna cocked her head at him, surprised by the intensity and roughness in his pleasant voice.

“I might.” She smiled up at him. This Haligon was more of a temptation to her than he knew.

Now he smiled back at her, a challenge sparkling in his eyes. “We’ll just have to see, won’t we?”

“Yes, I guess we will.”

With that answer, she gave him a quick kiss on the cheek and ducked into the station before she could say more than she ought right now after such a limited acquaintance. But maybe raising runners—both kinds, four-legged and two—in the west wasn’t a bad idea at all.

R
u was tired from helping his father load the fishing nets they had repaired the previous night, so he was lagging a bit behind his sister when a fresh breeze came up and stung him in the face. Immediately he was back on his dragon, at altitude above Ista Island—high enough to see the silvery haze on the horizon that marked the incoming fall of Thread.

That’s the leading edge, Nerith,
he told his dragon telepathically, as he checked that his safety straps were secure on the broad belt all dragonriders wore during Threadfall. The clump of Thread had been overlooked by the other riders in his Wing and Neru knew no one else would be able to sear it before the silvery Threads fell to the ground and devoured every living thing in their path.

Fly faster, Nerith!
Neru urged his lifelong partner, his beloved dragon.
We must climb up higher and try to sear it as we draw near
.

I will reach it; my wings are strong
, Nerith replied, and his wings beat down sending them higher and faster than they’d ever flown before. As they closed in on the leading edge of Thread, Nerith belched a long steady stream of flame, charring the silvery clump to harmless ash.

Scanning the skies around them closely, Neru saw one single long Thread that had escaped Nerith’s flame.
Wheel and spin, Nerith, we’ve missed one!

I see it!
his dragon replied.

Abruptly, Nerith dropped his right wing to make the turn, and with one powerful stroke, he pivoted into position to flame the lone strand of Thread with a burst of fire. It was a very dangerous maneuver, but nothing Neru and Nerith hadn’t done before.

You are the strongest, wisest, and fastest dragon on Pern, Nerith. Good flying, my friend. Well done!
Neru said, as he caressed the soft hide of his dragon’s neck.

Nerith turned his head toward Neru, his many-faceted eyes whirling blue with pride.

“Here comes the Ninny and her wannabe dragonrider brother,” a baritone voice said nearby, cracking in adolescent fashion. Suddenly Neru was back in the present, on the road to the Harper’s hall, and out of his daydream. Mostly the kids at Lado Hold on Ista Island called him Ru and his sister Ninny. Neru didn’t mind “Ru,” but he took extravagant exception whenever he heard people call his twin sister, Nian, by that nickname.

“Flamel, do you want yet another bloody nose?” Neru asked, as he focused on Flamel, son of the Hold’s smith. Nian, who was very self-conscious and hated confrontation of any sort, moved slightly behind her twin brother.

“Sure,” Flamel said, putting up his hands. But just then Orla, daughter of the Hold’s weaver, intervened.

“You really are tiresome, Flamel. Just drop it for the day, huh? Give us all a break,” she said in a cajoling tone of voice.

“Why should I? It’s fun,” Flamel said, raising his fists again. “Let’s see how the dragonrider defends himself and his ninny of a sister.”

“Oh, that’s so old, Flamel. Can’t you strive to be just a little creative?” Orla said with a bored sigh.

Just then two adults strode onto the road, talking together in low voices. The taller man glanced at the scene, then paused.

“You all better hurry on to the Harper’s now, or you’ll be late,” he said with a flick of his hand. But as he passed he gave Flamel a hard stare. It was enough for the bully to move on, while Orla took her place beside Nian.

“Thanks, Orla,” Neru said with one of his charming smiles. “And you’re right. Flamel is boring.”

“Just so long as you don’t let him get to you again. Master Lado was not best pleased over your last fight with Flamel.”

“But he didn’t do anything to stop Flamel bullying my sister,” Ru commented sourly.

“‘Childish bickering,’ he called it,” Nian said.

“When Flamel’s apprenticed, it’ll be knocked out of him,” Orla replied tartly. “Oh, if it would only happen
soon
.”

The three friends continued on their way down the road that led to the Harper’s Hall and their morning lessons.

“Soon all of us will have to move on,” Orla said, kicking a pebble out of the way. Her curly hair bounced with every step she took. “How will you manage being apart?” she asked Nian.

“Nian’s tougher than she looks, Orla,” Ru said, his twin’s champion and supporter.

If only that were true, Nian thought. She was scared of the mere idea of being alone, day in and day out. She knew she would have to stand on her own two feet one day, but the thought of doing it without her other half nearby was frightening.

Being the more reserved twin, she couldn’t imagine life without her brother at her side, even if she could always sense him. When her parents had moved Neru to a bedroom in the lean-to, she had spent many wakeful nights without his comforting presence beside her, even though she was well aware that boys and girls were always separated when they got to a certain age. But being in totally different places . . . She gave herself a mental shake. It would do no good to worry now.

“Has Master Ruart recommended you to the Healer and Harper Halls?” Orla asked. “I get to go to Fort Hold, as apprentice to Master Elaine. But not until the leaves turn. Master Elaine designed that gorgeous brocade pattern our family’s working on right now.”

“Father wants to marry Nian off to a farmer on the North Shore,” Neru said with some perturbation. He glanced at his sister to see her reaction.

She shrugged. Her mother had been making remarks lately about how good it was to start a new life in one’s own place, but Nian tried not to listen.

“We’re keeping an eye open for fire lizard clutches,” she said. “So we can be apart without really being separated.” The fire lizards, distant cousins to the much larger dragons, were good companions and useful for delivering messages. It had been Neru’s idea that if they both had fire lizards, they would at least be able to communicate with each other over distance, thus making their imminent physical separation more bearable.

“How soon will Clidith’s clutch be ready for Impression?” Orla asked. “This could be your big chance, Ru.”

“First I have to be Searched, you know,” Ru said with a diffident shrug.

“Don’t try to fool me, Ru,” Orla said firmly. “Not that every lad doesn’t hope to be a dragonrider. I think you’d make a good one. Especially since you are so good a brother.
And
I hear that one of the eggs is a queen egg.” She turned excitedly to Nian. “You could become a dragonrider, too, Nian!”

“Who would want a Ninny for a rider?” Nian asked scornfully.

“You shouldn’t call yourself that, Ni,” Ru said with a fierce scowl. “A ninny you’re not. Don’t even think it of yourself.”

Nian glanced gratefully at her brother.

“You can’t let the teasing of a dimwit like Flamel get to you,” Orla said with equal severity. “As we used to say, ‘Sticks and stones may break your bones, but names can never hurt you.’ ”

Nian gave a snort and wished she could shake off such jibes as easily, but she didn’t have that kind of confidence. No one ever teased Orla. Orla was self-assured and pretty, with very curly black hair that framed her oval face. Her nose was straight and small, her mouth wide and friendly. Orla had all the feminine qualities that Nian did not see in herself. She didn’t consider herself even marginally attractive.

While Nian, Neru, and Orla had been strolling in a leisurely way as they talked, the rest of the children of Lado Hold were making their way down the hill toward the Harper’s small Hall. Their nemesis, Flamel, tall for his age yet still carrying some baby flab, was visible in the group. He immediately edged closer to the twins to begin teasing.

“You been Searched yet, Ru?” was Flamel’s snide query. Singling out her brother was unfair, anyway, Nian thought, because so many of the other boys in the Hold desperately wished to become dragonriders and escape the less glamorous adult occupations waiting for them. But Neru’s dream was well known, and she thought that Flamel chose his targets carefully, knowing exactly how to insult and injure.

Ru ignored the question and Nian was proud of him. Her mother had constantly told them to ignore such taunts.

“Well, you’re still here, aren’t you. Neru? We’re all waiting for the dragons to come take you away.”

Neru shook his shoulders as if he could dislodge the verbal darts sent his way. But Nian was provoked into angry responses.

“He will be Searched, you just wait and see!” Nian brandished her fist at the flabby son of the Journeyman Smith, who merely snorted at her. “They sure won’t give you even a sniff, Flamel.”

“You scare me,” Flamel said, pretending to quiver and knocking his knees together.

“Stop it, Flamel,” said Orla. “You really are pathetic, you know. Leave the twins alone. Just for a change.”

“Or?” Flamel replied.

“Or I might just tell everyone here the real reasons why you pick on the twins so much. I might just tell them all that you’re really—”

“Really what?” Flamel interrupted her quickly. Orla was not the only one to notice that the color in his cheeks was rising to a pinkish blush.

“Shall we see?” Orla asked in her sweetest tone.

Flamel gave her a long stare, but he began to walk faster, putting distance between him and Orla, as well as Nian and Neru. Nian smiled her thanks at Orla, who sketched an airy salute.

“My pleasure. He gives me a headache with his nonsense. I hope his father does send him to the Smithhold at Telgar. They’ll sort him out soon enough.”

That reminded Nian—again—all too forcefully that there were changes in the air for all the youngsters in their age group. She didn’t like her father’s talk of marrying her to a farmer on the north coast of Ista. She had met the man at Gathers, and she was not overjoyed by the thought of closer ties. Nothing had been said about Neru, though she knew that her parents had decided a long time ago that he was to be trained at something other than fishing. There were quite enough in that profession already at Lado Hold, and Neru had shown no aptitude for a life at sea. Their mother wanted the Harper, Ruart, to recommend Neru for harper training, since he performed very well on the flute and the horn. His voice had changed into a good enough tenor range that he was always asked to sing at Gathers.

The children had reached the lean-to porch of the Harper’s so-called Hall and were all busy scraping mud off their boots. They would not bring any mud into the Hall and have to clean it up later. Ruart insisted on high standards of tidiness. The porch, which was broad enough to accommodate the Hold’s children during fair weather, was their favorite place for lessons, but as today was raw and cold, with a clammy mist in the air, they’d have to remain inside.

Inside, the “Hall” had been enlarged from the original limestone cave. A ledge against one wall provided a bench, all too often as cold as the rock behind it, for the smaller children to sit on. Another alcove was Harper Ruart’s private quarters, screened from the main room by one of Orla’s beautiful screens, its panels woven of fragrant reeds and grasses, which still faintly scented the stone room. The screen also doubled as a wall on which to hang the drawings of Ruart’s students. Everyone in Lado Hold was certain that Orla was going to be a fine artist—probably the only one ever to go forward from Lado to an Artist’s Hall. Her skillful drawings stood out vividly, compared to the scrawls and scenes by the other students.

The youngest children sat on their ledge; niches had been carved out below the seating to shelve their books and slates. Two fine wooden tables allowed the older students a proper surface for writing and figuring. Ruart had a splendid desk made of the local woods, with a series of drawers on each side in which he kept records and texts that were rare, and thus too valuable to be left out. Behind him, a slab of black slate had been cleverly attached to the smoothest part of the limestone wall. On this he could write and display whatever the day’s lessons might be.

At sixteen Turns old and soon to be apprenticed to learn a trade, Neru, Nian, Orla, Flamel, and Chaum were the oldest, if not the most advanced, students. Journeyman Ruart had high hopes for the twins and Orla, but the other two boys would undoubtedly perfect adult skills in the plantations and fields that surrounded Lado Hold.