Chap. 338 The Lost Weyrling

Chap. 338 The Lost Weyrling

Any pain?

No, Raventh responded, glorying in his flight, None at all. I have missed flying.

Want to fly home to Landing? Or go between?

The woof of his wings over head sounded normal. He could feel Raventh’s shoulders working beneath him.

I want to fly to Landing.

Then let‘s. We have plenty of time.

No matter how comfortable and well fed he’d been at Cove Hold, it was always better to head home, he thought. The healers did us both a lot of good, but it’s time to get back to work. Besides, he thought, I was bored, having nothing to do other than caring for Raventh. Although I must admit that writing down the experience of surviving a maelstrom helped in reducing the anxiety I felt afterwards. I wonder if meteorologists will want to read it.

I liked the dolphins. They kept me fed. They drove the fish right into my jaws.

They’re fun.

They are, aren’t they? But still, I’m glad to be returning to our own weyr.

Can I still call it a weyr, despite it being in a ‘building’? Every weyr is a bit different. Igen’s weyrs are unlike Kahrain’s are unlike Cove Hold’s.

I don’t think I’d want to stay at Igen ever again.

Why?

The dust storm. I didn’t know what it was at the time, but I could feel the air was wrong. I won’t forget it ever again.

How odd, he thought, I didn’t feel it. Sometimes humans are blind to the obvious.

If we ever have to go back, TELL me if you feel it. I can’t. We’ll evacuate immediately.

How did you humans ever manage to survive if you can’t even understand what the air is saying?

We just don’t have that ability. We can’t fly, for instance. At least not without being on a dragon.

I know. It’s better being a dragon. I can swim, I can walk, I can fly.

He looked down at the landscape rolling beneath them. It was still fairly uninhabited, only a well defined road that was the main pathway to Cove Hold from Landing showed signs of human activity. That was purposeful, he knew. The staff at Landing had decided to keep things in the vicinity ‘as wild as possible’.

Here and there he could see herd beasts grazing. A family of giant wherries moved through the browned, winter grasses. He could see the male shepherding his almost fully grown hatchlings as three females ranged further afield, hunting prey for the yearlings.

It’s interesting how the male seems to be the caretaking parent, guarding the babies and teaching them, while his females do the hunting. Sort of like lions, he thought.

The domesticated animals were Landing’s, he knew, livestock paid in barter for the services the research center provided to people who had no money. Now they served as prey for the four dragons assigned to Landing.

I can’t ever get over what a wonderful thing it is to fly. While it was cold up here, a huge change from the oven that had been Igen, Weyr, still, it was a lovely morning for flying. In the distance, the rising sun silhouetted Mt. Garben and its attending cinder cones.

You’d have to be blind, he thought, to miss that. Landing doesn’t need a dragon stone, it has the whole volcano to serve as one!

Siskin chirruped, alternately taking off from his customary perch just behind Raventh’s head and darting here and there ahead of Raventh. Still, he kept a wary eye out for raptors.

How happy we all are! he thought, enjoying the simple pleasure of camaraderie.

This feels good, Raventh said, his wings working effortlessly.

Yes.

Look at that! Raventh said, surprised.

Where?

Off my right wing. It’s a dragon!

He scanned the sky and finally saw the tiny mote, instantly recognizable as a dragon, but not close enough for detail.

It’s too far for me to see much more than a speck. Blast, I didn’t bring my binoculars. Who is it?

I don’t know. He just popped out of between. A young bronze. I’ve never seen him before.

The distant dragon began to circle, searching for a thermal. Strange, K’ndar thought, it’s much too early for thermals just yet.

The dragon vanished.

What the? What is he doing, going in and out of between?

He’s skipping. I think he’s scared, I got just a touch of fear from him.

Scared? A bronze?

The bronze was frightened because his rider is panicking. He just came out again.

The dragon reappeared, this time much closer. He was below them, this time.

Bronze riders don’t panic, he thought.

Call him. Tell him to circle, don’t go between again. Ask him what is going on.

I already did. He didn’t hear me or else he’s just not thinking

That’s odd. How can that be?

Now he says it’s his rider. He says his mind is running in circles and the bronze is confused. They’re very young, they’re still weyrlings. The rider is crying.

Below him, he saw the bronze side-slip, tipping on a wingtip. This doesn’t look good, he thought.

I’m going to shout. Mind your ears. Siskin, you too, mind your ears.

One of the few things he’d been good at was shouting. Maybe it was due to growing up on the steppe, or he had a better set of lungs than most humans, but his talent for a loud shout had come in handy when fighting Thread. D’mitran, his wingleader when he was at Kahrain Weyr, always designated him to be the ‘shouter’ if other warnings went unheard in the midst of the chaos of Thread fall.

He took a deep breath and bellowed “HEY! Overhead! Look UP!!”

Siskin flinched, but didn’t bolt.

The bronze rider looked up and saw Raventh overhead.

“HELP ME!” the rider cried.

__________________________________________________________

The rider was a kid. Despite not wearing a braid-in fact he wasn’t even wearing a riding jacket-it was obvious he was a Weyrling, and a new one at that.

His bronze suddenly rocketed up towards Raventh on an almost collision course.

“HEY!” K’ndar yelled, as Raventh banked hard to the left, “What the shard are you doing?”

“I don’t know!” the kid responded, “he just did it!”

The young bronze crowded so close to Raventh their wingtips almost touched.

Not so close! Raventh shouted.

I don’t know what to do. I’ve only flown to learn to hunt from the adults the dragonet said, he keeps shifting his weight and I can’t stay level.

Let yourself fall back until your head is just even with my hind legs he said to the bronze. Yes. Yes. Feel the wind from my wings? Now change leads

The bronze paused his wing beat, falling back until he was even with Raventh’s hips. His rider yelped again. The bronze’s wing beats were now anti-synchronous, his wings up to Raventh’s down.

Yes, can you feel the downdraft from my wings? The air rolls like the sea. You will feel it under your wings. Take advantage of my work, this is how you must fly in formation.

Yes, the bronze said, it feels easier. What is the sea?

Raventh tuned his voiced to the one he used solely for K’ndar.

He’s calming down now that his rider isn’t screaming at him. Look how small he is, smaller than me!

I see that. They must be newly Impressed. But what in the world is he doing HERE?

“Hey, Weyrling! Stay on my right, okay? Don’t go between again,” K’ndar called.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” the boy called, relief obvious in his voice.

He sounds strange, he’s almost unintelligible, K’ndar thought, I’ve never heard that accent before.

K’ndar cast a critical eye over the young lad riding the bronze. No jacket. No harness!

What did he do, just hop aboard and say ‘go’?

Raventh, call Motanith. Or Corvuth, this kid is so green he’s going to get hurt landing. We need help, dragon as well as human.

Raventh was silent for a moment.

Corvuth and Mondevuth are both north. Motanith is in her quarters, she and Francie will be coming out very soon.

The bronze began to fall behind. Suddenly he tilted on one wing, the boy yelping in fear. K’ndar’s heart jumped into his throat. The bronze struggled to right himself.

“Weyrling! Didn’t you hear me? Hold your position on my right wing. Do you understand?” he called.

“I don’t know how!” the boy cried.Again, the odd accent!

Blast and blast, K’ndar thought, what in the world is this kid doing, why is here, has he had any flight time whatsoever? Maybe I should ping B’rant. This kid must be from Kahrain Weyr.

No. Banarth says all the current Weyrling dragonets are present and accounted for.

The little bronze is tiring fast. He says he’s never flown this long with his human aboard. He’s also confused, he says it was dark when they left their weyr.

What in the shards was he doing flying after dark?

The mystery deepens, he thought. But the present situation was going to get hairy if we don’t get this kid down. He almost fell off and we’re still a dozen klicks from Landing.

Motanith says that Francie said to tell you she will be here in five. She’s sending her fire lizards to help.

That’s some fast harnessing. Keep the bronze steady, he’s bobbling.

I’m going to ask Banarth to help. The little bronze is exhausted, he might just fold his wing and fall.

A frisson of fear ran up his spine. At this height, if the kid fell off, or worse, they both went down, it would be certain death.

Do we disturb Kahrain’s Weyrlingmaster? Yes. He’s the expert on handling rookie riders.

Francie’s three fire lizards appeared. Siskin cheeped and joined them overhead. K’ndar was tickled to see them fall into the same V formation, just as dragons did.

Good idea. We need as much help with this kid, stars help him if he falls off.

The two dragons flew in formation. Raventh was gradually dropping them in elevation.

“Weyrling, listen up. We’re going to land as soon as my friends arrive. Hear me?”

“No, but yes, I’ve only landed twice, just in the bowl, there’s nothing down there! Can’t we go to the weyr?”

I only understood half of what he said. Still, I want to throttle him.

A green dragon appeared from between. She bugled and Raventh answered a hello.

The weyrling, astonished, tried to fall off. The bronze wrenched against him, throwing the boy back into his precarious position between his virtually non-existent spines.

He’s learning fast Raventh said, not bad for a rookie, do you call him?

Rookie. Yes, but the kid doesn’t seem to be learning as fast. That was too close.

Francie on Motanith soared over his head, then took up station on the right side of the weyrling bronze instead of the normal half a dragon length behind.

The kid gawped at her, then returned his concentration to staying aboard.

Banarth comes

Overhead, K’ndar heard the big bronze call out. B’rant waved at him.

The Weyrlingmaster immediately understood the situation.

“Taking position!” he called. Despite his size, Banarth gracefully swooped down behind the trio of dragons to take up a position several dragon lengths beneath the young bronze. This was the most dangerous spot, risking his own life and that of his rider should the rider fall off…onto him.

Now the weyrling had dragons on the right, the left and underneath.

“K’ndar! Send Siskin with my lizards, they’ll spot us on the ground!” Francie called.

But it was unnecessary. Siskin and Francie’s trio were already dropping like glittering stones, scoping out a safe place to land.

K’ndar felt a flush of pride at his former Weyrlingmaster’s automatically taking the subordinate position. M’rvin would have taken one look and kicked me to wing second so he could be the hero, he thought, remembering his erratic and sometimes glory hound former Weyrleader.

How I hated the months of marching and then flying drills in formation, K’ndar thought, and once again, I’ve learned how valuable that training was. Look at us! The three of us working as a team in this emergency, no need to discuss or plan, we are just DOING it from training!

I hope the kid is watching, no, probably not, he’s just trying to keep from falling off his slick backed dragonet.

Siskin sent an image of the landing spot. It was clear and approaching rapidly.

Tell the dragonet to slow down

I did. He is trying, but it’s going to be a hard landing for him.

“Okay, kid, we’re about to land,” K’ndar called.

“Clearing now!” B’rant called. With several mighty strokes of his broad wings, Banarth shot forward from underneath the dragonet.

Watch me, young one, watch how I land. Hind legs down! Reach DOWN! Banarth called, looking over his shoulder.

I am confused the dragonet said, wanting to keep his legs tucked up securely beneath his belly.

You’re probably going to fall off,” Francie called, a bit of scorn in her voice, “so be prepared.”

“Not me!” said the weyrling.

He did.