Dragonforce Ch 07

Mighty dragon, rider proud,

Flying high above,

Clear the skies of falling death,

Protect the ones we love.

9th Pass -- Year 21 - March

(Eastern Weyr, March 16th)

Fluffy clouds dotted the blue autumn sky. Wildflowers, far removed from the Weyr, could be smelled in profusion on the warm breeze. Life seemed subtly more enjoyable now. The sun shone with a comfortable glow, rather than an irritating glare. With the tropical summer coming to an end, the cool of early fall was welcome. It was a wonderful time to be Weyrleader at Eastern. Unless, of course, you needed to find somebody. Anybody.

T'gellan looked around the nearly deserted Weyr bowl. There was a bit of activity in the cavern entrance, where Betrella was talking with Aramina about the special train Paradise River had sent for the evening. A few drudges were moving back and forth between the pack animals and the lower chambers. Jayge was still busily tending to the heavily laden beasts.

Monarth stretched out lazily on the weyrledge, basking in the late morning brilliance. His drifting thoughts indicated he would shortly be asleep. Far across the bowl, Trenth and Kelth sat side by side, leaving barely enough room should a third dragon need the infirmary ledge. On a day like this, that seemed an unlikely eventuality. Path was in her weyr and Regalth was still on the hatching grounds. It would be another seven-day or two before the eggs hatched, but she was spending more and more time grooming the hot sands to her liking. The rest of the Weyr was gone; fishing, swimming, hunting or just plain goofing off. Not that it mattered. They all knew to be in by mid-day. There were still a lot of preparations to be made.

The cavern folk had done quite a job of dressing the Weyr. Even the rocks around the bowl perimeter looked like they'd been scrubbed. The very sand seemed to have been cleaned. It was an interesting sight.

Betrella's call brought him back to reality. He walked reluctantly to the cavern entrance, wanting to join his bronze and sleep away the next few hours. That, however, was sheer fantasy. "The Weyr looks great," he said in greeting. "Your people did an excellent job."

The Headwoman nodded vigorously, handing him a slate with the inventory of the special tithing train. She had circled one group of entries, emphasizing the unusual number of fine roasting meats and delicate pastries. The shipment was generous.

"We have enough roast wherry and bubbly pies to feed an army," Betrella revealed amiably. "Considering the guest list you gave me that should be just about right."

The Weyrleader chuckled. She had a point. If everyone they had invited showed up, the rest of Pern was going to be uninhabited tonight. From what he'd heard so far, there had been no refusals or cancellations. Eastern was going to be crowded.

"Have you made arrangements to see that K'trin gets a full meal?" he inquired. "He's still not well enough to leave the infirmary and I don't want him to feel slighted."

"He'll be fed, alright," Betrella groused. "He'll get more food than he's seen in turns. But have you planned to place an armed guard on him? I don't want him disrupting things."

T'gellan gave her a sardonic grin, agreeing fully with her caution. They didn't need the feisty rider trying to interfere tonight. Although his recovery had slowed over the past weeks, he was regaining his strength. The Weyrleader was leaving nothing to chance. "Four, plus two extra watch dragons on Trenth. Besides," he grinned, "I suspect Akira, Loki and Astaroth are going to be somewhere in the area. He's not going to be a problem."

Betrella sounded a loud 'humph'. While she didn't share the dragonman's confidence, the situation was beyond her sphere of influence. The Cygnan snake had proven most adept at eliminating pests from the caverns, particularly the hated tunnelsnakes. In her opinion, the Fort brownrider was just a larger variety of pest. "Alright. I'll set up another table on the weyrledge so that K'trin and the sentries can eat together."

She led the bronzerider into the cavern, pointing out the intricate decorations that had been devised for the occasion. Traditional red and white adorned the tables, while the black and soft blue adopted by Eastern as the Weyr colors were conspicuous on the walls. Near the head table they could see Mirrim fussing at one of the drudges about some detail still incomplete. Standing to one side, Trelka wore an amused grin. The queenrider made no effort to conceal her good humor, encouraging her frantic companion to relax. Both women showed evidence of their current condition. The Headwoman turned an uplifted eyebrow to T'gellan.

Reading the obvious question in Betrella's eyes, the Weyrleader started to laugh. He pointed at the dark-haired girl. "Only one, Betrella, only one! You can blame N'rad for the other." Giving the Headwoman an openly suggestive smile, he asked, "How would you like to make it three?"

Betrella laughed at him. "I'll think about it," she chuckled.

He glanced back at the two pregnant riders, their position in the cavern reminding him of a question he needed to ask. "By the way, how many do you plan to seat at the headtable?"

Now Betrella chuckled. Biting her lip with devious glee, she responded, "Fifteen. You and Mirrim, Benden, the Master Harpers, N'rad and Trelka, Darian and Selana, Ruatha, T'marek..." she paused momentarily, looking at the dragonman. "...and F'nor and Brekke."

T'gellan closed his eyes, groaning in mock despair. "Mirrim, Selana, Trelka and Brekke, all at the same table! What did I do to you?"

The Headwoman laughed back at him. "If I were you," she warned, "I'd be a lot more concerned about Darian, N'rad, F'nor and T'marek all at the same table."

The Weyrleader's response was unintelligible.

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

Over the next hours, riders began to trickle back, doing what tasks remained to be accomplished before changing into formal clothing. The first non-Easterners to arrive were N'ton and four brownriders from Fort. Although the Weyrleader was in ceremonial garb, his wingriders wore fighting gear and were armed with full-sized belt knives and crossbows. The quartet was quickly posted, along with their dragons, at the entrances to the infirmary.

Benden arrived in force, with Mnementh, Ramoth, Dragoth and Piyanth carrying single riders. Canth bore two. The Ruathan dragon and his two passengers arrived shortly thereafter. Jaxom and Sharra headed for the cavern, while Ruth accepted an invitation to perch on the Northern rim. He settled lightly beside Astaroth, who greeted him with an oddly amiable roar. It didn't escape the little white's notice that they shared an excellent view of the infirmary ledge.

The lower cavern filled quickly as twilight fell. Many of the guests were standing in groups of various sizes, enjoying friendly conversation and plentiful drink. Others had taken their seats, preferring to wait in a more comfortable pose. The colorful decor of the chamber both relaxed and interested the assembled riders, lords and craftmasters, as did the noticeable gap in the tables directly in front of the headtable. The tempting aroma of roasting herd beast and wherry filled the air, piquing the appetites of the guests.

Trelka, F'nor, F'lar and Lessa arrived from the inner tunnel. Immediately, the din of conversation lessened, and the invitees headed for their seats. Silence fell when the Masterharper entered.

Sebell walked in measured steps to the front of the gathering, placing himself between the headtable and the rest of the assembly. He bowed formally to the Benden Weyrleader and the ladies. His ceremonial request to address the guests was granted instantly. With great dignity, the Masterharper pivoted.

"Lords and Ladies, Masters, Journeymen, Apprentices, Dragonriders and friends, I have the great honor of speaking to you on a most unusual occasion. In fact, I have no reservations about calling this night unique in the history of Pern."

A wave of laughter greeted his statement. Delighted onlookers turned to each other to echo the observation. There could be no doubt that tonight's ceremony had never before been performed on Pern.

"The young man who will stand before you tonight is not bound by Pernese law," the Harper explained. "He was given the opportunity to have this ceremony conducted in accordance with his own traditions, but he declined. Therefore, we will proceed in the manner which all Pern has come to honor."

Sebell turned, nodding to Betrella at the opening of the inner tunnel. There was a moment's delay. Curious whispers sounded across the cavern, followed by a collective murmur of approval as the first of the ceremonial party appeared.

Darian led the way. His specially made tunic gleamed like spun gold. It still sported the crest he'd worn on Cygnus, but the right breast boasted the emblem of Eastern Weyr. At the head table, F'lar smiled approvingly at the sight. The avion was followed by T'gellan, N'rad, and a grinning T'marek. The quartet moved slowly around the headtable, coming to a halt in front of and to the Masterharper's left. As they stopped, four women appeared from the tunnel.

Selana came shyly forward, clothed in a flowing red gown and floral head garland. Just behind her, Sharra stepped into view, wearing the traditional white with red trim. Dressed in solid white, Brekke and Mirrim completed the short train. They traced a route opposite that of the men, coming to rest at the Harper's right.

At the sight of his weyrmate, F'nor caught his breath, drawing an alarmed glance from Trelka. She chuckled softly when he exclaimed, "I think I'm in love!"

The Masterharper nodded, at which time Selana stepped forward and in. She turned her head questioningly when Darian didn't mirror the move. Sebell smiled sympathetically. He indicated a spot on the floor to the healer's right, quietly saying, "We need you up here."

The Cygnan didn't move immediately, regarding the Master with a dazed expression. A grinning T'gellan finally gripped him by the elbow and pushed him into position. Sebell glanced knowingly at the Weyrleader, restraining his chuckle but not his smile. He was about to continue when a final member of the ceremonial party appeared, padding quietly from the tunnel to place himself between Darian and Selana. T'gellan rolled his eyes toward the ceiling. The bride reached down to stroke her stalker.

"Darian and Selana," the now booming voice declared, "you stand before all Pern, Lord and Commoner, Master and Apprentice, human and dragon, to take upon you a solemn covenant. Do you do this of your own free will?"

The young woman smiled glowingly, nodding. Darian simply gulped, an imploring glint in his confused eyes. Catching the harper's expectant regard, he nodded slowly.

"Take her hand, please."

For the first time, the avion showed a sign of life. He looked down at his hand, then across to the smaller one extended toward him. Narrowing his eyes and frowning, he reached out to grasp the slender fingers. Slowly, his head swiveled back to accept Sebell's steady gaze. The Masterharper looked curiously at the young man, slightly concerned by his dazed expression.

"Do you accept this woman, to care for and cherish, to protect and provide, so long as you both shall live?"

Darian stared back, eyes wide. He turned his head to look at the Weyrleader, who lifted an amused eyebrow. N'rad stood silently grinning.

"Darian," the Harper said softly, "we need an answer."

Subdued murmurs could be heard from the assembly as the Cygnan continued to stand silently, eyes staring unfocussed at the far wall. Finally, T'marek spoke up. "Say yes, you birdbrain, before we all fall asleep!"

The Cygnan broke into a wide grin while several peals of laughter erupted from the guests. Even Lessa allowed herself a giggle. Darian replied quickly. "Yes, Master Sebell."

The Harper shook his head. He glanced at Selana, who had blushed brilliant red. Beside her, Sharra's soft laughter made it difficult to maintain the dignity of the occasion. Mirrim's giggles weren't helping.

"Do you accept this man, to care for and cherish, to support and uphold, for so long as you both shall live?"

The healer gazed at the fingers intertwined with hers, tears rolling from her eyes. She made no attempt to speak, but simply looked at Sebell and nodded emphatically.

To Darian's right, T'gellan reached into his tunic pocket. He withdrew a gold coin. Tapping the avion's shoulder, he passed the mark. The groom examined the coin, reading the inscription 'Darian - Selana, 9 21 03 16'. Above the lettering was the caduceus of the Healer Hall. He turned the coin. A single evergreen tree adorned the opposite side, the emblem of Eastern Weyr. T'gellan winked at his friend's smile of thanks.

The Cygnan lifted the tiny hand held in his. He turned it palm up. As her fingers opened, he pressed the coin into them. They closed instantly.

"Then," the Masterharper decreed, "by the laws and customs of Pern, before these assembled witnessed, I pronounce you man and wife!"

All dragonriders in the cavern came to their feet, right fists raised above their heads. "Heard and witnessed!" thundered through the cavern, echoing off the stone walls. A loud cheer answered the traditional acclamation.

Darian turned his wife into his arms, gazing into her eyes. "Are you happy, little one?" he whispered.

Selana couldn't answer. Tears rolled down her cheeks, but the joy in her face was obvious. Her husband was about to say something else when she shook her head. "Just shut up and kiss me!" she cried.

A second cheer rebounded through the cavern as Darian bent his mouth to her lips. No one saw the kiss, shielded from view by his protecting wings. The newlyweds didn't have long to enjoy their embrace. An impatient hand tapped at Darian's shoulder.

"Hey, you two, come up for air!"

Opening toward the cheerful voice, the couple found themselves facing a grinning T'marek. Without hesitating, he pushed Darian aside and pulled Selana into his arms. "I've waited for this a long time," he told the startled girl, "and you're not going to disappoint me again!" He planted a long kiss on her mouth, drawing delighted guffaws from the onlookers.

A confused frown on his face, Darian watched for a moment. He was reaching for the brownrider's arm when another voice delayed him. "Uh uh," warned T'gellan, catching his winged friend's hand, "now it's my turn." The Weyrleader quickly separated the clutched pair. Selana had barely enough time to draw a breath before she was again engulfed in rather forceful congratulations.

Looking at the Masterharper, a concerned avion asked, "How much of this do I have to put up with?" His only response was a rippling laugh.

Darian was still wondering when a soft hand grasped his upper arm. He found himself looking at a tall, lovely girl in red and white. Sharra smiled understandingly as she explained, "Now it's your turn." He didn't seem to mind as she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him.

Sebell caught his eye when Ruatha's Lady stepped away, quickly replaced by the Eastern greenrider. As the avion accepted Mirrim's felicitous kiss, the Harper offered an opinion. "Not such a terrible custom after all, is it?"

The wide-eyed Cygnan shook his head in mute agreement. He was starting to wonder just who he had married. Over Mirrim's shoulder, he saw Sharra pulling a beautiful, brown-haired woman toward him. As they came alongside, the dark-haired girl released him. She reached out to take the new arrival by her free hand, drawing her yet closer to the newlywed.

"This, Darian," she said with great ceremony and impish glee, "is Brekke." With the introduction, dragonrider and Lady Holder pushed the reluctant bride's maid into his arms. She was bright red, gazing at him in confusion.

Something told the avion he wanted to try the ceremonial greeting with this lovely girl. Something else told him that might be both dangerous and stupid. Looking into her brilliant green eyes, he wasn't sure he really cared. A sharp voice reinforced the something else. "Oh, no, you don't!"

Two arms, one male, one female, slid between the embraced couple. They released each other immediately, turning to stare innocently at the intruders. F'nor was grinning, while Selana's eyes burned. "I told you to control that woman!" she scolded the Benden rider. Turning on her husband, she added, "And I told you that I would take care of you! Me! Remember?"

Darian and Brekke glanced at each other, wide-eyed with confusion. "What did we do?" the Benden healer asked.

Mirrim erupted in howls of laughter, joined immediately by F'nor and Sharra. Brekke stared at her husband uncertainly, biting her lower lip. Meanwhile, Darian was gazing at his wife. Selana's stern expression evaporated into giggles of delight. "Your turn," she teased. "Gotcha."

The Cygnan sighed, hooking his left fang in a self-deprecating half-smile. "Yeah," he allowed, "I guess you did." His left hand reached out, spinning Brekke back into his embrace. He kept his wings down, giving everyone a clear view of the ensuing greeting. F'nor and T'marek applauded enthusiastically.

The squeal of cartwheels announced the arrival of the wedding feast. Everyone was quickly taken to their tables. The various roasts, vegetables, breads and beverages were soon being devoured throughout the cavern. Flasks of wine emptied rapidly, goblets being drained almost before they were filled. For the first time he could recall, Darian didn't see any klah mugs. He found that interesting. He was also intrigued by the wild aerobatics of the attending firelizards. The miniature dragons seemed to be everywhere. He found that, as he grew used to them, he was also growing rather fond of them. They were fascinating creatures.

Several harpers were now strolling among the diners, singing various traditional songs on lyres, flutes and guitars. The Masterharper leaned toward Darian, indicating the singers and announcing, "This is the standard entertainment at a wedding. You'll see both men and women, often as duets."

At one end of the headtable, Brekke was staring open-mouthed at Mirrim. T'gellan and F'nor were convulsed in laughter, fueled by the greenrider's somewhat embellished confession of her machinations in finally bringing the happy couple together.

"Oh, Mirrim, you didn't!" the Weyrhealer pleaded, hoping the story was a fictitious one. She got no such reassurance.

"Oh, Brekke, yes, I did! And it worked wonders!"

T'gellan was laughing so hard his sides and jaw hurt. The Bendenite watched him for a short while, then became mildly irritated. She pursed her lips in a thoughtful pout, nodding at him. "Alright, Eastern," she warned, "I'll get you for this."

The Weyrleader looked at Brekke, then at his mate. Still laughing, he reminded her, "You already have!" He was able to duck the swat at his head, but not the kick that found his shin.

Back in the center, Darian leaned over and kissed his bride. Pulling back slowly, he nodded toward the jovial foursome. "Now," he admitted, "I see what you were worried about. She is beautiful."

Selana gave him a warning glare, eyes narrowing. "You keep those eyes over here, dragonman. She belongs to F'nor. And you," she emphasized, "belong to me!" Her frown transformed itself into a smile, and she leaned back into the avion, drawing him into a prolonged kiss. They lost themselves in each other's lips, ignoring the rest of the world, until a rhythmic chant interrupted their reverie.

"...sixteen, seventeen, eighteen, nineteen...."

Darian looked up at two grinning brownriders. N'rad and T'marek continued their recitation. "...twenty, twenty-one. Ah, shells, what'd you quit for?"

Selana picked up a scrap of roast wherry from her plate, throwing it at the hecklers. Beyond the harpers, she heard Trelka's indulgent chuckle. The flame-haired queenrider leaned forward, smiling at the bride. "Just wait," she informed her, "it gets worse."