The Second Weyr

More cattle and other types of herd beasts that had managed to survive Threadfall in the South were added to the herd that occupied the lake end of the craters. The chickens laid, and it became a regular early-morning exercise to find where, in the sands, the eggs had been secreted. Some were left to the broody hens, but others supplied the cooks. Julie, the fourth queen rider for Benden Weyr, arrived from Big Island on her Rementh, who had finally recovered from wing scoring. Julie, who was still in a gelicast for the broken leg she’d incurred trying to dismount in a hurry to tend to her queen, announced that she’d act as domestic manager.

Then Captain Kaarvan and the Pernese Venturer dropped anchor at the mouth of Benden River, and the promised assistance from Ierne broke trail to be the first to make use of the access tunnel. The workers they supplied included masons and carpenters, and soon individual caves became proper weyrs, with partitions between dragon and rider accommodations, and even private bathrooms.

Work was also done on what would be the quarters of the two Weyrleaders, the large room that would be used for private conferences, and one below that which could be an office for the Weyrleaders.

No one minded the hard work and the long hours, because they were building for their own comfort as well as that of generations to come. So they built well and carefully.

When the Benden Weyrfolk decided that sufficient provision for them had been made, they and their dragons flew down to the Hold, which was progressing more slowly, and, used the skills they had learned to help the holders settle into their new accommodation.

The only break the Benden riders took was to attend the Hatching at Fort. That was always a glad occasion for dragonriders and could not be missed, especially when most of the sixteen hatchlings had been assigned to Benden Weyr. That provoked a complaint from F’mar, in the name of Telgar Weyr, although work on that facility had not even started.

“The next clutch will go to you, F’mar, especially as you’ve no place to put them yet but here at Fort,” Sean said dismissively.

“Young Fulmar better stop hassling Sean,” Jean murmured to the other Benden queen riders. “Especially if he keeps on acting like he’s already Weyrleader. That’s a long way from being decided.”

“But someone has to be in charge, sort of, don’t they?” Torene asked. “I mean, David. . .”

“David Caterel has the right,” Jean said firmly. “You’ve no complaints, have you?” She eyed Torene speculatively.

“Me? No. He listens to any objections, anyway,” she said, once again made conscious of the fact that although no one said anything to the point of her being Benden’s Weyrwoman, everyone knew, and tended to turn to her for decisions and opinions.

Working shoulder to shoulder, day after day, with the bronze and brown riders had given Torene a good chance to get to know them all. She liked most of them, so she supposed Alaranth would have the final say. Of the younger riders, N’klas, L’ren, T’mas, and D’vid kept as much in her company as possible. David Caterel was always courteous to her, but he treated all the women riders the same way, even Julie, whom his Polenth had last flown. Mihall had a knack of appearing when she was in trouble-like when the cutter jammed, or when she was trying to roll a heavy boulder out of the way. It got so she almost expected him to be there when she needed a hand. Some-what to her chagrin, he never lingered, but returned to whatever task he had interrupted to help her. Meanwhile, the Weyrleaders’ quarters remained unoccupied.

It was Mihall who cried “Get the queens away!” while people were finishing their midday meal. He came pounding into the lower cavern, straight up to Torene. He caught her hand and, pulling her to her feet, urged her to action. “Get your queens out of here, Jean, Llloa. Where’s Julie gone?”

Licking the fingers of her right hand, which were sticky from peeling red fruit, Torene did not resist Mihall’s urgent tugging.

“How could she go into heat without me noticing?” she cried. She had been keeping such a close watch on Alaranth-or so she had thought.

“Today, because she’s been lounging in the sun,” Mihall said, and turned her by the hand he held so that she was facing the right way. He pointed. “She’s more than just gold right now.”

Torene inhaled sharply: Alaranth, stretching legs and wings in a manner that Torene instantly identified as sensual, was gleaming a bright gold that had nothing to do with clean skin and sunlight. Mihall jerked round as Jean, Uloa, and Julie came pelting out of the lower cavern in flying jackets too large for them and helmets that were just as obviously borrowed. No time to get their own riding gear. Throwing anxious glances over their shoulders at the luminous Alaranth, the three riders scrambled aboard their own dragons.