“She said-and this I cannot countenance-that Benden was going to use the three Turns starting nine Turns back and she advised us to consider going back six Turns if we wanted to use it,” D’gan replied angrily. “As if Benden could dictate how we use our Weyr!”
“Well,” L’rat replied honestly, “it’s not really our Weyr anymore, is it?”
D’gan’s eyes bulged at the Wingleader’s pronouncement.
“We’re Telgar riders now,” V’gin declared, nodding in agreement with L’rat’s declaration. “We have no claim on Igen.”
“I think it’s more important to consider whether it would help us,” D’nal said, trying to defuse any needless argument. “If we had all our injured dragons and riders ready to fight at Upper Crom, we’d have more than twice the strength we have now.”
D’gan sat down in his chair, his lips thinned angrily, but his eyes were thoughtful.
“If you added the older weyrlings-it wouldn’t do to send the youngest ones back, they wouldn’t survive the trip-then there would be another full wing on top of that,” V’gin added. He looked up at the others, eyes gleaming. “Why, we’d nearly be back to full strength!”
“That’s true,” D’gan agreed, still looking distracted.
“I make it nearly three hundred and thirty fighting dragons,” D’nal said, totting up the numbers in his head. “And today we’ve only got a bit more than one hundred and twenty.”
“Food’s no problem,” D’gan declared. “This Lorana person said that Fort had left them with plenty and they’d pass on the favor.” He snorted. “I’ll bet Fort just herded up the beasts we’d let run free.”
D’nal and L’rat exchanged satisfied glances.
“So shall we do this, then?” V’gin asked. “I must say, it seems an excellent idea.”
“Yes, it does,” D’gan agreed sourly, silently berating himself for not having thought of it on his own. While it galled him to admit that K’lior had had a worthwhile idea, he could tell by the looks of his Wingleaders that he had no choice but to go with it. He leaned forward, determined. “Very well, we’ll do it.”
He turned to D’nal. “I’ll want those dragons back in time to fight at Crom.”
“I understand, Weyrleader,” D’nal replied, realizing that the job had been delegated to him. “Should I take D’lin with me?”
L’rat and V’gin gazed curiously at D’gan. D’lin was his eldest son and had Impressed a well-bred bronze more than a Turn ago; they were all sure that D’gan was grooming him as his eventual successor. Having the lad time it would put him in a position to take over from his sire in short order, should anything untoward happen to Telgar’s Weyrleader.
“D’lin?” D’gan asked, amused at the question. He shook his head. “No, he’ll stay here with me. He still needs seasoning.” Having made his decision, he rose, dismissing the others and terminating the meeting.
L’rat and D’nal exchanged nervous glances as they headed toward the exit of the Council Room. Next door they could hear the unmistakable coughing of a dragon suffering from the sickness-D’gan’s own Kaloth.
“I thought you should have the honors,” B’nik said softly to Lorana. They stood at the end of the newly-cleared corridor.
Dalor had been right: The rockslide had only blocked part of the way. Once the miners had removed the fallen rock, the corridor was clear and open, running straight along until it stopped in front of a set of stairs leading down.
At the bottom of the stairs, another short corridor led to a door. At the side of the door the miners had discovered another square plate, just like the one Tullea had discovered in the first room.
B’nik hefted a long stick-a liberated broom handle-and offered it to Lorana.
“You might want to stand back and use this, in case the air is bad,” he suggested.
Lorana nodded and gratefully took the stick while B’nik waved Dalor, Kindan, and Ketan back up the stairs.
“Push it and run back,” Kindan called down to her.
Lorana grabbed the stick in both hands to steady it, then leaned forward and pushed the plate.
For a moment, nothing happened. Then a groaning noise could be heard from beyond the door. Slowly the door slid open, revealing a well-lit room beyond. Entranced, Lorana forgot to run: She peered in, and the bad air caught her.
When she awoke later, Kindan was leaning over her; his look of concern vanished into one of sardonic humor the moment her eyelids fluttered open. She realized she was in his quarters, lying on his bed.
“I thought you were going to run,” he chided her.
Lorana shrugged. “I was trying to see what was inside.” She pushed herself up.
“You would have seen sooner, if you’d run,” he told her, helping her to her feet. “But B’nik decided to wait until you were able before letting anyone into the room.”
“That was nice of him,” Lorana said.
Kindan considered this. “I’m not so sure he intended to be nice as much as he wanted to be sure that we did not repeat the mistakes we made last time.” He paused. “Tullea has not been invited.”
“Let’s go,” Lorana said, feeling a sense of urgency.
“Why the rush? The room has waited all this time, it can wait a little longer.”
A cough from up high near the Weyrleader’s quarters echoed harshly across the Weyr Bowl-and then was repeated by dozens of other dragons.
“The dragons can’t,” Lorana said hoarsely.
TWENTY-ONE
Mutualistic: A symbiotic relationship in which each species benefits.
Well, that went well,” M’hall murmured in Emorra’s ear as the gathering broke for lunch.
“I thought it was a shambles,” Emorra replied.
M’hall smiled and shook his head. “You haven’t seen the Weyrleader’s Council.” His smile vanished. “So what’s next?”
Tieran, who had seen them from across the room, approached and suggested, “Perhaps we should eat in the faculty room?”
M’hall looked around and noticed that, while they were not the only group gathered in the room, they were the group gathering the most attention. He waved a hand toward the door. “Lead on.”
In the faculty room they found Wind Blossom and Janir, heads close together in soft but intense conversation. Wind Blossom paused to wave, but immediately resumed her conversation with Janir.
“The question is, how do we teach people we don’t even know?” Tieran said as they found a small group of seats.
Emorra disagreed. “I think the question is, what can those people do?”
“I think the most important question is where they’ll do their work and how we’ll keep the wrong people away from it,” M’hall observed.
“Well, it’ll have to be Benden,” Tieran said in an offhand manner. He turned back to Emorra. “Surely if we can teach them, then it won’t matter what they can do.”
“Excuse me,” M’hall interrupted, “but why do you think it’ll have to be Benden?”
“Because whoever rode that queen obviously came-will come-from Benden,” Tieran replied. “We don’t know how people will travel then, and her queen was too young, I assume, to take her anywhere yet-”
“You’re right, there,” M’hall confirmed. “Although she was so big…”
“I think that carrying a rider is a question more of bone and muscle maturity, particularly bone, than of size,” Emorra observed. M’hall acknowledged this with a nod and turned his attention back to Tieran.
“So, I think that Benden’s the right place,” Tieran concluded.
“Don’t you have some nice geothermals there?” Emorra asked.