Тодд Маккефри: Dragonheart

A chorus of groans greeted his words.

“ . . .So i’d say that she’s the same as the rest,” t’jen concluded in his recounting to the Weyrleader and Weyrwoman over dinner that night. “Even the older weyrlings are acting odd.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you sooner,” K’lior said to the old Weyrlingmaster. “You’d said this last Turn when the others Impressed, but I thought . . .”

“You thought I was just moaning,” T’jen finished for him with a snort.

“I’ve never heard a Weyrlingmaster praise his charges, after all,” K’lior said defensively.

“And by the First Egg, I hope you never do!” T’jen replied. Thoughtfully, he added, “And if you ever do, Weyrleader, you should let the man go. As you know: ‘There’s — ‘“

“ ‘ — always better from a weyrling,’ ” K’lior finished with T’jen.

“Exactly.”

“And what about now?” Cisca asked. “Does not ‘always better’ mean we should be pushing these weyrlings further? Particularly as the next Pass is nearly upon us.”

“Actually,” K’lior replied diffidently, “that’s a good reason to go slow.”

Cisca gave him a questioning look.

“The Weyrleader’s right, Weyrwoman,” T’jen told her. “With Thread coming, it’s more important to have these youngsters trained the best we can rather than put them and their young dragons against Thread too early.”

“We can expect the most losses in the first Turn of Threadfall,” K’lior said in agreement. In response to Cisca’s look, he explained, “It’s in the Records. I think it’s because it always takes time to adjust to the reality of fighting Thread.”

T’jen nodded. “Any mistake fighting Thread can be the last mistake a rider or dragon makes.”

“So we should go slow with these weyrlings?” Cisca asked.

“And keep an eye on them, as well,” T’jen said. “We don’t want them doing something foolish because they’re too drowsy to think clearly.”

“What does the harper say?” Cisca asked.

“He’s got no better idea than I,” T’jen said. “It could be this sickness that affected the fire-lizards, but there’s been no sign of coughing from anyone.” He paused, his brow furrowed, then shook his head. “No, I don’t think they’re related — but I don’t know what is affecting the weyrlings so.” A moment later, he added, “They’ve got good days and bad days, some more than others.”

“Does anything help?” K’lior asked.

“ Klah, ” T’jen said with a shrug. “The stronger, the better. For some, it’s klah in the morning, at noon, and mid-evening. That’s for the worst of them, though.”

“So we just leave it at that?” Cisca asked, perturbed.

“I’d say it’s all we can do, for the moment,” T’jen replied.

“And I think Tannaz and I will keep a closer eye on our young Weyrwoman,” Cisca said.

The next morning Cisca found Fort’s second Weyrwoman in her quarters just as she finished her daily grooming of her queen, Kalsenth.

“Good morning,” Cisca called brightly to Tannaz and her dragon as she entered. “Kalsenth, if you can spare her, I’ve got a task for your rider.” And she repeated the conversation she’d had with K’lior the night before.

“I’d heard about the older weyrlings,” Tannaz said when she was done, “but not the younger ones.”

“And the new queen,” Cisca added.

The two queen riders were a study in contrasts: Cisca was tall, broad-shouldered and muscled without appearing so, with shoulder-length brown hair and eyes to match, while Tannaz was short, thin, wiry; her eyes, so dark they looked black, were set in a stark face of dusky skin surrounded by wavy black hair that announced her Igen origins to anyone looking at her.

Their personalities were even less matched than their forms, and for a time Cisca had been concerned that the older woman — for Tannaz had been three Turns older than Cisca when she Impressed — would cause problems. She had refused to return to Igen Weyr when she Impressed, which had perhaps been the final death blow for the desert Weyr. Having met D’gan, Igen’s Weyrleader — and heard K’lior’s recounting of their meeting — Cisca did not begrudge Tannaz her choice, even while she worried that she and the older woman would come to blows.

But it was not so, partly because they were both fundamentally too good and concerned for the Weyr’s well-being to allow any disagreements to exist between them for long. In fact, Cisca had come to value Tannaz’s fiery spirit, quick wit, and steadfast loyalty.

“So what would you like me to do?” Tannaz asked.

“I think we should both spend more time with Fiona,” Cisca said. As Tannaz’s eyes narrowed, Cisca added quickly, “I don’t want her to feel that we’re intruding or being overly cautious, so I think if we trade off, that will cause her less concern.”

“Great, I’ll be happy to help,” Tannaz told her cheerfully. Cisca gave her an inquiring look and Tannaz shrugged, saying, “I wanted to get to know her; we’ll be working together for Turns to come.”

“We will, at that,” Cisca agreed, surprised that she hadn’t thought to introduce her two junior Weyrwomen earlier. She paused long enough to reflect on the matter: A large part of the reason she hadn’t thought of it sooner was simply because she was, as Senior Weyrwoman, quite busy, but she was also honest enough to recognize that it was partly due to her concern that the other two might find they liked each other more than her. It was a silly notion really, she admitted to herself, but she sometimes forgot that she was the Weyrwoman now.

“Do you think there might be something in the Records?” Tannaz suggested.

Cisca frowned. She preferred to avoid the dusty Records when she could, but there were some times when there was no recourse — there were some questions that she didn’t feel secure asking the Weyr harper to research for her. Her frown turned to a happier look as she realized that this was not one of them.

“I’ll ask — “ She caught herself, and corrected: “Would you ask Harper Kentai to investigate?”

“Certainly,” Tannaz said. “Perhaps I should bring him with me to meet Fiona.” She added, “We could use the excuse that he needs to know what Teaching Ballads she might need to learn for her Weyr duties to give him a chance to observe her himself.”

“A good idea,” Cisca agreed. “Although I suspect his contact with the weyrlings has already given him a pretty good notion of the symptoms.”

Tannaz nodded in agreement. “Then I’ll check in on her now myself.” She patted Kalsenth’s neck with a finality that indicated that her grooming was complete for the morning and, with a reassuring smile to Cisca, headed off on her task.

Fiona’s weyr was next to Tannaz’s, the Weyrwomen’s weyrs being allocated according to rank. Tannaz found Fiona, as she’d expected, in the queen’s weyr, busily oiling the new hatchling. With a grin, she found a cloth, dipped it in the pail of oil, and started in at Fiona’s side. She was quite surprised at how long it took before the youngster noticed her.

“Oh!” Fiona cried when she spotted her. “Oh, my, how long have you been here?” She made a face and added hastily, “Not that I’m not grateful for the help, it’s just that . . .”

“They get bigger,” Tannaz said with a smile, marveling at how quickly they finished going over the young queen’s skin. She extended an oily hand to the girl. “I’m Tannaz, Kelsanth’s rider.”

Fiona looked at her in surprise, and then her face took on the abstracted look of a rider communicating with her dragon, followed by a more natural expression of irritation as she realized that Talenth had, as usual, fallen solidly asleep during her oiling.