You’re hurt! Talith complained. You need numbweed and fellis. Let me take you back to the Weyr.
No. I promised Lorana that I’d see her, J’trel replied. If I go now, I don’t know when I’ll be able to return.
Talith rumbled anxiously but flew on to the meadow.
“It’s not right for a woman to be aboard a ship,” Baror grumbled into his cup. He and Minet sat under an awning at the crowded vintner’s tent.
“So tell the captain,” Minet said, tired of hearing the same old moaning from Baror that he’d heard since Wind Rider had first set sail.
“Captain!” Baror snorted. “He’s only the captain until we’re finished our trials.” He took another gulp and slammed down his empty mug. “Then it’s me.”
“Well, you’ve not that long to wait, then,” Minet said. “And then you’ll decide.” He took a pull from his mug, frowned, and looked into it. His frown deepened when he saw that it was empty. “Still, she’s a pretty one, isn’t she?”
“She’s a bit plain for my tastes,” Baror grumbled.
“She’d keep you warm at night,” Minet said suggestively. “Especially if you were the captain. She’d have no choice then.”
“My missus would skin me,” Baror grumbled. Minet knew that all too well. He was convinced that getting away from his wife was half the reason that Baror had agreed to this voyage.
“Your missus would skin you only if she found out,” Minet said, his eyes glinting. “As you said, it’s bad luck to have a woman aboard a ship. And accidents can happen.”
Baror met his eyes with a thoughtful look. Minet nodded at him suggestively. Baror pursed his lips, then grinned.
“But,” Minet cautioned, “you’d have to wait until you were captain.”
“I could be captain today,” Baror snapped back.
“And how do you suppose that?” Minet wondered.
“Accidents can happen,” Baror replied, rising blearily from his seat.
“What about that dragonrider? You heard he killed one of the local oafs, didn’t you?”
“I’ll take care of him, too,” Baror said, stalking off. “He’ll be no trouble if he’s in his cups.”
The crew of Wind Rider had split up long before J’trel arrived. He found Lorana by herself, pretending not to look at some of the more beautiful fabrics on sale in the weavers’ tent.
“They’d make great wear for a woman, wouldn’t they?” J’trel asked as he walked up to her.
“J’trel!” Lorana threw herself into his arms for a hug. “Good to see you!”
“And you.” Trying not to wince in pain, J’trel grinned at her. “The sea air seems to have done well for you.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s go somewhere where we can sit-and drink.”
“I know just the place.” Lorana led him to a tent where they served cool wine and crusty bread. They found a table apart from the others and ordered their drinks.
“Where are your fire-lizards?” J’trel asked when he was sure they were out of earshot. “I’ve got something for them.”
Lorana looked around to be sure no one was looking, then summoned the fire-lizards. Garth appeared immediately and chirped happily at the dragonrider. Lorana frowned as she concentrated on summoning Grenn. When the brown fire-lizard finally appeared, he chattered loudly at the two of them before Lorana could shush it.
“My! He’s in a mood!” J’trel remarked with a grin. He pulled forth two packets from inside his jacket. “Get these on them, and let’s see how they look.”
The packets turned out to contain beautifully strung bead harnesses. Lorana gasped as she saw the markings. “What’s this?”
J’trel waved dismissively. “It was the beader’s idea. I told her about Grenn’s wing.”
Lorana gave him an incredulous look. “Well, all right,” J’trel confessed, “I did make some suggestions.”
“Animal Healer-in-training?” Lorana asked as she deciphered the patterns in the beadwork. She got Garth’s harness on easily and smoothed it out, but Grenn insisted upon fluttering about her.
“What’s got him so worked up?”
Lorana held out a hand to the fire-lizard and coaxed him close to her. She concentrated, focusing to sort through his confused images.
“There was a fight,” she said at last. Then she looked accusingly at J’trel. “You were in it! Why didn’t you say something?”
J’trel waved a hand. “A lout learned a lesson in manners. It was nothing.”
“Nothing! At your age!” Lorana started to say more but snapped her attention back to the fire-lizard. Her eyes grew wide and her face paled as she turned back to the dragonrider. “J’trel, Garth never saw the man get up again. She watched for a long time.”
The color drained out of J’trel’s face. Before he could say anything, a man approached him, clapping him on the back.
It was Baror. “Well done, dragonrider! I hear you put a lout in his place!” He leered at the two of them, his eyes glazed with drink, “And I’d say, well in his place!” He slapped his mug in front of the dragonrider. “Have a drink on me!”
The seaman pulled up a chair close to the table. “I never knew you had it in you, to be honest. Of course, I knew you dragonriders are a tough lot, but I figured at your age-well, drink up!”
Ashen-faced, J’trel took a deep gulp from the cup Baror proffered. Baror turned quickly away from the dragonrider toward his friend, hiding a smirk. “So, Lorana, I’ll have to watch out for you as well, I’m sure! You keep sharp company, and that’s no lie!
“Another round here!” he called out to the barman. “Drink up, dragonrider, this one’s on me!”
Baror continued to ply the dragonrider with wine and offer commiseration-“You wasn’t to know. And he did have it coming, didn’t he, dragonrider?”-until even Lorana, who had been careful with her drink, began to feel bleary.
J’trel was still upset over the fight and its outcome, but was finding it harder and harder to raise his glass. “I should be going-”
Baror gave a grunt and stood bolt upright. “I think I see Captain Tanner over there!” He looked at the two of them. “I’ll be right back.”
Lorana patted the distraught dragronrider on the shoulder, trying to think of something to say.
Baror came back, bristling with purpose. “We’ve got to go now, Lorana! I spoke with the captain, and we’re to set sail as soon as we can.”
“I’ll stay here,” Lorana replied, looking at J’trel.
“No, no, you’ve got to go!” J’trel said, heaving himself to his feet. “I’ve got to get back to the Weyr and-” He staggered, leaning on the table for support.
“You’ve got to get some rest and see a healer,” Lorana replied.
J’trel straightened up and pushed himself away from the table. “And I can do that best at the Weyr,” he said. “Go on, get! I’ll be awhile mending. I’ll look for you as soon as I’m done.”
Baror took in their words with a hidden sneer. “Stay if you want, I’m going.”
Lorana glanced at him, and back at J’trel. “Wait!” she called to the retreating seaman. She gave the dragonrider a gentle hug and said, “I’ve told Talith to watch out for you.”
J’trel forced a smile over the grimace of pain that her hug had caused him. “He always does.”
In the distance, the blue dragon coughed. Lorana frowned, adding, “And keep an eye on that cough!” She pursed her lips. “I swear it’s gotten worse.”
With one last wave at him, she started after Baror.
The seaman carefully led her out the far side of the tent to avoid the crowd that was slowly gathering around another seaman spread out on the ground, knocked unconscious by a hard blow with a rock that lay nearby. Baror wondered if he had killed Tanner with the blow, but he didn’t really care.