Dragonstorm Ch 10

Fast to fly, then long in waiting,

Five months, nine months, till it's done.

Queen and rider share their purpose,

Clutch of many, clutch of one.

9th Pass -- Year 27 -- December

(Ista Weyr, December 15th)

Darian was badly upset. He stared at the blood-stained floor, his examining table, his hands. "I told you to restrict her flying. Why didn't you listen?"

"I couldn't," the Weyrleader answered. "I've already lost one queenrider. I couldn't afford another, especially when she didn't want to withdraw."

"Well, you've lost her now. She won't be worth a thirty-second for a month. So, you're down two anyhow, and she's lost a baby."

G'dened grimaced. Shortly after Scylenth's mating flight, the Cygnan had withdrawn again, sinking deeper into the depression Masterhealer Nerodian had warned them about. Even after the counseling sessions at Lemos, even with Elysina's help, his moods swung wildly, often with little or no reason. The relationship between Weyrleader and masterhealer was tenuous at best. He'd wondered what would finally trigger a confrontation between them. Selana's miscarriage had done it. At least they were keeping it civil. It was a discussion, not an argument.

"Darian, she didn't want that baby. What purpose does it serve to make her bear a child she doesn't want? Even if it is yours, isn't that kind of selfish?"

"Yes, it is," the avion sighed. "But she never said that to me. She could have continued to fly straight. I just didn't want her flying between."

G'dened stared at him. "That baby could have been yours, R'travil's or V'line's. If you need another child, wait a little longer. Elysina's about due. But don't make Sel feel guilty."

"I suppose Elysina's child is mine?"

"You know it is. According to El, nobody's been with her since Valkryth's last mating flight. Real mating flight. Nobody but you, that is. And the only time Valkryth has risen since then, she chose Astaroth. Elysina's insanely in love with you. Your kind of love, not ours. She's yours permanently."

Darian shrugged. "Okay, so her child is mine. That has nothing to do with Selana."

The Weyrleader closed his hands together, intertwining his fingers. "No, it doesn't," he agreed. "I'm sorry. But I need to ask another favor of you, one you're not going to like."

"Well, this has been the day for them. What do you want?"

"We need Valkryth to clutch. We need her dragons. The next time she rises, could you hold Astaroth out of the flight?"

The masterhealer sighed again, something he was doing all too often recently. "I guess so. Maybe. Who's most likely to fly her if it isn't Astaroth?"

"Either Clarinath or Kirth," the bronzerider replied.

Darian shook his head. He had lost Selana, and now he feared losing Elysina. He fought down the panic he felt rising in him. He could handle Clarinath or Kirth. He liked V'line and Tr'san. But there were others... and what if she chose to become the rider's weyrmate?

"I can't handle this twice, G'dened," he warned. "Not Selana and Elysina. I can't take it. V'line doesn't worry me, but she really likes Tr'san."

"You're not going to lose Elysina," the Weyrleader reassured him. "If you were, she wouldn't have latched onto you like she has. You're her weyrmate. A mating flight isn't going to change that."

"It sure wrecked my marriage to Sel."

"Yes," the Weyrleader allowed. "But that was Selana's first mating flight. It wasn't the flight that wrecked your marriage. It was how she reacted to it." He saw the anger building in the Cygnan and continued before he could speak. "Darian, don't. I know what you're going to say. Yes, R'travil was the cause and, yes, he was a total ass. You're right about that. But because of how Scylenth reacted, Selana had to have a bronzerider. Scylenth needed Clarinath to protect her from Quarelth, even just psychologically. That's why Sel and V'line became weyrmates. You even encouraged them. Shells, it was your idea. Even so, you're still married. Sel has made that clear. Elysina's been through this many times. She's not going to leave you."

Darian closed his eyes, lowering his head into his hands. "Do what you need to do," he replied quietly. His voice was dead, defeated. "You're going to anyhow. But at least wait until El has the baby. Please."

"Of course. Valkryth isn't going to rise while El's still pregnant."

"Alright. Tell Selana I'm going to do some tests. I'll be down in a bit."

"Would it help if I declared a restricted flight?" the Weyrleader offered.

The Cygnan looked up in disbelief. "You'd do that? Why?"

"Because, despite our differences, I still consider you a friend. Ista needs you. I know I'm asking a lot of you, so I need to offer at least something in return." He paused, looking to see if he had his masterhealer's full attention. He did. "If I declare a restricted flight, which dragons do you want assigned?"

"But why didn't you do this for us when Scylenth rose?"

"Those circumstances were very different," the Istan explained. "You can't restrict a queen's first flight. There are too many ramifications to be considered. I'm sorry, but that just wasn't going to happen."

Darian sat back in his chair. This he hadn't expected. Not from G'dened. Still, there was only one dragon in the weyr he wanted to let mate with Valkryth, and he was being withheld from this flight. "If it can't be Astaroth, it has to be Clarinath, Kirth or Sanadanth. Is that alright?"

G'dened nodded. "Clarinath, Kirth and Sanadanth it is. I'll make the arrangements. I leave it to you to tell V'line, Tr'san, N'pol and Elysina." He was starting back into the Weyr tunnels when a thought struck him. "D, would you like to go back to Lemos for a while? Maybe get away from here for a few seven-days? I could arrange to send El with you."

"Is this a polite way of saying that you want me back in counseling?"

"Only if you think you need it. I'm sure the masterhealers could find some time for you if you want it. Just thought you might like to get away for a while."

"Thanks, but not right now," the avion declined. "There's just too much going on here. Besides, if you send both me and El off, I'm not all that confident that Selana and Rubia can handle the weyr."

"Selana was Weyrhealer at Eastern," the bronzerider reminded him.

"She didn't have a queen to care for at Eastern. And she's in no condition to be handling a Weyr. Not a good idea, Weyrleader. At least, not right now."

"I can ask Master Oldive if he could send Jenira back for a couple of seven-days. I think he'd do it for you."

The Cygnan smiled. He thought about the Craft Master, thought about the Healer Hall and the people in it. Despite himself, he'd become acquainted with several of the healers. He even considered Oldive, Nerodian and Kimmel friends. Yes, they would probably send Jenira back, but they needed her at the Hall. He couldn't keep imposing on them.

"No. I think we've asked enough of the Healer Hall recently. Let's just leave it alone."

G'dened nodded. "Okay. But if you need some time away, let me know. I'll send Elysina with you."

He turned and left the infirmary. He was biting his lip as he walked, wondering what other trouble the avion could stir up. He had to admit, though, that the off-worlder was an excellent masterhealer. He needed him in the Weyr.

He couldn't have stopped Selana if he'd wanted to. How do you tell a queenrider not to ride her own dragon? She'd done most of her recent flying on errands for the Healer Hall, not fighting. She'd been disappointed in Scylenth's clutch, which really wasn't bad. Twenty-two was a respectable first laying and at least two of the eggs were large enough to hold browns or bronzes. No queen egg, but that was also normal for a first clutch.

Selana's concerns over the size of Scylenth's eggs doubtless further convinced her that the child she carried was R'travil's. Anyone with a basic knowledge of dragons knew what flying between would do to a pregnant woman. The bronzerider had no doubt that she had done it intentionally, forcing the abortion.

Caylith could have stopped the junior queen, but there didn't seem much reason for it. Why make the woman have a child she didn't want, that she actually feared? It didn't make sense. Well, this way, he'd have them back in one month instead of seven. Darian might not like it, but that was the way it was, and that was fine by him.

'You're upset. Can I help?'

'I'm alright. I'm a little worried about Darian.'

'Why? He seems to be strong.'

'He is, but he's been through a lot. He's really unhappy. Selana just lost a baby. Darian thinks it was his. And now he's afraid he'll lose Elysina in the mating flight.'

'Valkryth says Elysina will never leave him. Why doesn't she tell Darian that?'

'I think she has, but I'm not sure he believes her. He's still too close to Scylenth's mating flight. You would think his time at Lemos would have ended that.'

'I don't know what we can do about that. Do you want me to ask Astaroth?'

'Not sure it would help. This is up to Darian. We'll see how he does in the next few days.'

'Is it alright if I talk to Astaroth? He can talk to Darian.'

'That's up to you, big fella. It's alright with me. Let me know if he says anything useful.'

G'dened knew he had to cheer up before he entered Selana's weyr. He couldn't act depressed or worried. She had enough problems of her own. By the time he reached the queenrider's weyr he was whistling, burying his concerns in the tune.

A curious head peeked out through the sleeping chamber curtain. "Somebody's in a good mood. I thought you two were going to kill each other."

Smiling at his mate, the bronzerider explained. "He's not happy, but he'll be alright. We didn't fight. Didn't even argue. Just had a rather serious conversation." He nodded at the curtain. "I'll tell you about it later. You'll need to know this. How's she doing?"

Cosira's head tilted, and her eyes narrowed, but she didn't ask. "About as well as I'd hoped," she shrugged. "She's a little groggy. Remara and I were keeping her company. She doesn't want to sleep."

"What does she want to do?"

"Talk. I think she wants some reassurance. Shells, you'd think she did something wrong. It's her choice, not Darian's!" Azure eyes flashed angrily, daring anyone to contradict her.

"Take it easy. I'm on your side. Do you think she'd talk to me?"

"Why not? She never has shown much taste."

"Thanks. I love you, too."

"I know that," the willowy blonde retorted. "And Remara, and Elysina, and Nitali, and Mierla, and if you ever make a move on Breeana... "

G'dened ducked through the curtain, deciding he didn't want to hear the rest. Knowing his weyrmate, it probably wouldn't have been pleasant. He wondered how bad it would get. Regardless, he wasn't about to try to seduce Cosira's younger sister.

Stopping just inside the chamber, he glanced back over his shoulder. How could she have known about Nitali? That had been half a world away, and Cosira was grounded at the time. Oh, well, maybe she was just guessing. "Hi, Sel. How do you feel?"

Remara gave him a reproachful grimace. "Stupid question."

The Weyrleader frowned, exasperation showing in his face. Looking at the stocky brunette, he grumped, "Well, I was in a good mood. Good afternoon to you, too."

Selana smiled weakly at him. "I'm feeling better, G'dened. Is Darian angry?"

"No, he's not angry. He's worried about you," the Weyrleader smiled. He had no intention of fueling the concern in her eyes. Besides, why did she need to ask him? She knew how even-tempered her alien husband was, about identical to his intractable dragon. "He'll be down in a bit. Said he was going to do some tests."

Shifting down into her furs, the queenrider yawned. "That makes sense. He'll cross-type the blood and do an autopsy," a long second yawn interrupted her statement, "if necessary."

Remara mumbled an unintelligible reaction, pure disdain dripping from her pouting lips. She gazed sympathetically at Selana, then turned to the curtain as Cosira came back in. "If that's what it means to be married," she snapped at the Weyrwoman, "you can have it."

"Who wants it? I've got G'dened."

Snickering ruefully, Pireth's rider waved to her younger counterpart. "Be well, Selana. Have Scylenth call Pireth if you need anything."

Waving at her departing friend, the healer looked sheepishly at the Weyrleaders. "I seem to be a lot of trouble for you."

"You're no trouble, Sel," Cosira replied. "We like you and we need you. It's been a hard turn, that's all. We all have them."

"I guess so. Scylenth and I haven't done very well. Only twenty-two for her and I couldn't manage one."

"Now that's silly. Twenty-two is a good first clutch. Scylenth did just fine. And you already have two."

"I really wanted a queen egg."

G'dened chuckled, shaking his head at her. "So does every other queenrider, every clutch. We already have four queens here. I don't expect to see a gold egg for turns."

"But they're all so small!"

"Shells, if they're all greens, we can still use them. You worry too much." He caught her frightened expression, correcting himself quickly. "They're not all greens, Sel. There's at least one brown in there, maybe a bronze. We'll know in less than a month. You can't judge a hatchling by the size of its shell. Besides, little queenrider, you know I'm trying to put another wing together. We have plenty of bronzes. We could use another brown, but we need blues and greens. Your hatchlings are going to mean a lot to the weyr."

"And you can't go worrying yourself sick," Cosira added sweetly. "After all, you want to be at your prettiest when Scylenth has her first hatching. That will be a wonderful time for both of you!"

The supportive words helped. Selana smiled, thinking of that rapidly approaching day. To see newly hatched dragonets, Scylenth's dragonets, her dragonets. Indescribable contentment filled her heart and mind. From the hatching grounds, Scylenth's joyous bugle sounded with a hollow echo. Three bronzes replied from the Weyr.

Cosira caught her eye at the trumpeting answer. "Thinking about the next flight?"

"Was I? I'm not sure. I was thinking about the hatching." Genuine puzzlement flavored her tone. "The next flight?"

"I would think so, considering Scylenth's roar and the dragons that answered. Didn't you recognize them?"

Selana shook her head, eyes wide and slightly embarrassed. "No. I'm sorry."

"Oh, don't apologize. You'll learn their calls soon enough. They were all bronzes. Clarinath, Kirth," she glanced at her mate, a suspicious frown on her lips, "... and Barnath."

Blushing, Selana giggled. A devious light neither of her visitors had ever seen danced from her eyes as she smiled at the Weyrleader. "Interesting. I like Scylenth's taste in riders."

Cosira glared down at her. "Keep to your own weyr, queenrider. And I don't mean Ista. I want to see you do well, but there are limits to everything."

G'dened started to laugh. "Caylith is due to rise soon," he reminded his mate. "Should I invite Astaroth?"

The Weyrwoman lifted an eyebrow. Pursing her lips, she struck a thoughtful pose. Bronzerider and junior queenrider watched with growing concern.

"If memory serves," she finally announced, "I think I'd enjoy that. Barnath is getting a bit boring for Caylith." An irate roar sounded from the weyrledge, followed immediately by a confused warble. Cosira turned bright red. "Oops. Should have asked her first."

Selana groaned, drawing an uneasy glance from the Weyrleader. Her eyes closed but the smile remained. He breathed easier. The young woman was becoming a dragonrider.

"I'd enjoy that, too. I know Astaroth would." Darian stood at the curtain, grinning maliciously as three heads turned toward him. He walked quickly to the Weyrwoman, pulling her into his arms and placing a searing kiss on her lips. He held her tightly and the kiss lingered, turning her surprised rigidity into equally surprised compliance. Cosira's arms slid across the avion's back and under his wings. He tightened his grip, crushing the queenrider against him as his hands slid across her hips, up and under the back of her tunic. He extended his thumb, drawing it across the very bottom of her breast. Then he released her.

The Weyrwoman was bright red, gasping for breath. The avion looked at G'dened. The Weyrleader had a mildly worried smile on his face. "Just a warm-up," the Cygnan explained.

Crossing the chamber, he sat carefully on the edge of the bed. He smiled gently at Selana, caressing her cheek with his fingers. "Are you alright?"

She nodded, swallowing to control her breathing. "I'm sorry, Darian."

Slender fingers touched her lips, ending the apology. Dropping his head, he gave his wife a gentle, loving kiss. When he pulled back, his eyes were locked on hers and he was smiling. "Don't be sorry, love. You were right. I cross-typed the blood. It was R'travil's."

The girl shuddered. She looked up briefly, an odd mixture of horror and relief manifesting itself in her visage. Her eyes closed. She slid deeper into the furs, moaning softly. Darian leaned forward again, kissing her forehead. "Sleep now, love. I'll be here. V'line will be back this evening."

He stood slowly. Indicating silence, the masterhealer led the others from the chamber. He drew three glasses from the cupboard, filling them from the wine flask on the table. He placed two before the Weyrleaders, then sat down.

"That was pretty quick for an autopsy," the bronzerider observed quietly. He sipped at the wine, waiting for his host's response.

"I didn't do an autopsy."

"Oh? The cross-typing was enough?"

"Yes." The Cygnan stared into his wine. Grimacing, he set it aside.

"Then what's bothering you? I would think you'd be happy for her."

Darian shook his head. His voice was a dejected shadow. "G'dened, I lied."

Both weyrmates were startled by the admission. Uncertain of how to respond, the bronzerider simply shrugged, waiting for the healer to continue. He wasn't disappointed.

"In her condition, she couldn't have handled the truth. Now she'll sleep for a while. Maybe later. Maybe."

Cosira nodded. "What is the truth, Masterhealer?"

"She would have wanted that child," he said quietly. "It was V'line's."

G'dened sighed. Looking at his weyrmate, he lifted both hands in a gesture of helplessness. She frowned, equally at a loss. "Darian, we're sorry. We didn't know."

"There was no way you could have, but you could have given me the benefit of the doubt. I'm a masterhealer. I knew what I was talking about." The avion stared down at his hands, emitting a dejected sigh. "Please. I've got to think about this for a while."

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

Ista Weyr

(Nine days later, January 18th)

Blissful sleep sponged away the torment of another unsettling day. Blue skies, lush forests and frigid mountain water decorated his dreams. Wheeling lazily, two avions cavorted in the spring breeze, chasing and being chased. No one observed their frenetic antics, and they had no constraints on the depth or duration of their mutual enjoyment. He cut sharply, sliding beside the second aerobat, extending a wingtip to caress hers. Warm sunshine crept along their fur, sparkling from the mottled feathers. There were no dragons to share the skies with and nowhere, nowhere, the baleful glow of a red star. Life was relaxed, joyous, and complete.

Only the stalker was aware of the dream, lifting his head and peaking curious ears. Intercepting the peaceful images, Loki began to purr. His chin returned to its furry cushion. The cat withdrew to his own ethereal reverie. Of the five occupants in the sleeping chamber, four slept soundly.

The fifth craned his neck, eyes whirling in discomfort. Lucifer cocked his head as though the motion would clear the confused images he was receiving. Tiny bronze wings extended, fanning in irritation. The motion roused Ti. Chirping curiously, she lifted to her hind legs. An image of motion, confusion, imminent danger and pain burst into their collective awareness. Both lizards screamed in fright and disappeared.