She’d turned the high riding-boot cuffs down over her calves and the red fur made a nice accent to her costume, echoed in the fur trim of her cuffs and collar which she had opened. As usual, she wore the sapphire pendant she had inherited as the eldest female of her Blood.
“So, did P’tero win M’leng’s undying affection with that stunt?” she demanded, an edge to her voice. They’ve gone off together and she looked in the direction of the two riders who were headed towards the temporary tents along the row of cots.
“You might have a word with both later. They’re afraid of you,” K’vin said, grinning.
“For that piece of stupidity, I’ll make them more afraid,” she said briskly, hopping a step to match his stride. “You really should learn how to scowl menacingly.” She glanced up at K’vin and then shook her head, sighing sadly. She had once teased him that he was far too handsome to ever look genuinely threatening, with the Hanrahan red hair, blue eyes and freckles. “No, you just don’t have the face for it. Be that as it may, Meranath’s going to give out to Sith for allowing a blue to put himself in danger.”
“Get ’em where it hurts,” K’vin said, nodding, because Meranath was even more effective as a deterrent with the dragons than any human could be, even the dragon’s own rider. Damned fool stunt!
“However,” and now Zulaya cleared her throat, “the Telgarians thought it was Just marvelous!” she added in a gushing tone. “Especially since they won’t get much chance to see the dive in real action.” Now she grimaced.
“Well, at least Telgarians believe,” K’vin said.
“Who doesn’t?” Zulaya demanded, looking up at him.
“Chalkin, for one.”
“Him!” She had absolutely no use for the Bitran Lord Holder and never bothered to hide it.
“If there’s one, there may be others for all the lip service they give us.”
“What? With Second Fall only months away from us?” Zulaya demanded. “And why, pray tell, do we have dragons at all, if not to provide an aerial defense for the continent? Oh, we provide transportation services, but that’s not nearly enough to justify our existence.”
“Easy, lady,” K’vin said. ”You’re preaching to the dedicated.”
She made a disgusted sound deep in her throat and then they had reached the steps up to the upper Court. She put her hand through his arm so that they would present the proper picture of united Weyrleadership. K’vin stifled a sigh that the accord was only for public display.
“And Chalkin’s already into that new bubbling wine of Hegmon’s,” Zulaya said irritably.
“Why else do you think he came?” asked K’vin as he deftly guided her away from the Bitran, who was smacking his lips and regarding his wine glass with greedy speculation.
“Though today’s also a chance for his gamesters to profit. One thing sure, I hear tell he’s not on Hegmon’s list,” she said as they reached their table which the Telgarians shared, by choice, with the High Reaches Weyr and Hold leaders and those from Tillek. The senior Captain of the Tillek fishing fleet and his new wife completed the complement at their table.
“That was quite a show you put on,” said the jovial ship’s master, Kizan, “wasn’t it, Cherry, m’dear?”
“Oh, it was, indeed it was,” the girl replied, clapping her hands together. While the gesture was close to an affectation, the young wife was clearly awed by the company she kept at this Gather and everyone was trying to help her cope. Kizan had let it be known that she came from a small fishing hold and, while a capable ship’s master, she had little experience with a wider world.
“I’ve often seen the dragons in the sky, but never so close up. They are so beautiful.”
“Have you ridden one yet?” Zulaya asked kindly.
“Oh, heavens, no,” Cherry replied, modestly lowering her eyes.
“You may, and soon”, her husband said. ”We came overland here to Fort for the Gather, but I think we’d better see how good our credit is.”
“Very good, Captain,” said G’don, the High Reaches Weyrleader, “as you’ve never applied to us half as much as you’re entitled to.”
Mari, his Weyrwoman, nodded and smiled encouragingly at Cherry’s almost horrified reaction.
“What?” Kizan teased his bride. “The woman who sailed through a Force Nine gale without complaint is nervous about flying on a dragon?”
Cherry tried to respond, but she couldn’t find words.
“Don’t tease,” Mari said. “Riding a dragon is considerably different to standing on your own deck, but I don’t know many people who refuse a ride.”
“Oh, I’m not refusing,” Cherry said hastily, startled.
Just like a child fearful of being denied a promised treat, K’vin thought and struggled to keep from grinning at her.
“All of you, leave her alone,” said the Telgar Lady Holder, scowling at them. “I remember my first ride adragonback.”
“Back that far, huh,” said her husband, Lord Tashvi, eyeing her blandly. “And yet you can’t remember where you put that bale of extra blankets.”
“Don’t start on that again!” Salda began, scowling, but it was apparent to the others at the table, even young Cherry, that the Telgar Holders often indulged in such sparring.
“Have you not opened your wine?” asked an eager voice and they looked round at Vintner Hegmon, a stout, grey haired man of medium height with a flushed face and a reddened nose which he jokingly called an occupational hazard.
“Do us the honor.” said Tashvi, gesturing to the chilled bottles.
Hegmon complied and, in his experienced hands, the plug erupted from the bottle neck with speed and a plop. The wine bubbled up but he deftly put a glass under the lip before a drop could be spilled.
“I think we’ve done it this time,” he said, filling the glasses presented to him.
“I say, it does look exciting,” said Salda, holding up her glass to watch the bubbles make their ascent. Thea, the High Reaches Lady Holder, did likewise and then sniffed at her glass. “Oh, my word,” she exclaimed, putting a hand to her nose just in time to catch a sneeze.
“The bubbles tickle.” Try the wine,” Hegmon urged.
“Hmmmm,” Tashvi said and Kizan echoed the sentiment.
“Dry, too,” the Captain said. “Go on, Cherry,” he urged his wife.
“It’s quite unlike Tillek brews. They tend to be foxy and harsh. This’ll go down easily.”
“Ohhh,” and Cherry’s response was one of sheer delight.
“Oh, I like this!” Hegmon grinned at her ingenuousness and accepted the approving nods from the others at the table.
“I quite like it, too,” Zulaya said after letting a sip slide down her throat. “Rather nice.”
“I say, Hegmon, wouldn’t mind a refill,” and Chalkin appeared at the table, extending his glass under the mouth of the bottle the Vintner held.
Hegmon kept the bottle upright and regarded the Lord Holder coolly. “There’s more at your own table, Chalkin.”
“True, but I’d rather sample different bottles.”
Hegmon stiffened and Salda intervened.
“Leave off, Chalkin. As if Hegmon would offer an inferior bottle to anyone,” she said and waved him off.
Chalkin hesitated between a scowl and a smile but then, keeping his expression bland, he bowed and backed away from the table with his empty glass. He did not, however, return to his own table, but moved on to the next one where wine was being poured.