“Jaxom, what are you doing?” shouted the Weyrleader.
The egg fractured then, and the boy began tearing at the shell, ripping out sections and kicking until Menolly could see the small body pushing at the thick inner membrane.
Jaxom cut at the membrane with his belt knife, and a small white body, not much larger than the boy’s torso, fell from the sac. The boy reached out to help the creature to his feet.
Menolly saw the little white dragon lift his head, his eyes, brilliant with greens and yellows, fastened on the boy’s face.
“He says his name is Ruth!” the boy cried in amazed delight.
With a strangled exclamation, the older man sank back to the stone seat, his face a mask of grief. The Weyrleader and the others who had rushed to prevent what had just occurred halted. To Menolly it was all too obvious that Jaxom7s Impression of the little white dragon was unprecedented and unwelcome. And she couldn’t imagine why: the boy and the dragon looked so radiant, who could deny them their joyous union?
Chapter 13
Harper, your song has a sorrowful sound,
Though the tune was written as gay.
Your voice is sad and your hands are slow
And your eye meeting mine turn away.
When it became obvious to Menolly that T’gellan had forgotten his promise to return, she slowly climbed down from the tiers and made her way out of the deserted Hatching Ground, over the hot sand.
Beauty met her at the entrance, demanding caresses and reassurance. She was swiftly followed by the others, all chittering nervously and with many anxious dartings to the entrance to see if Ramoth was about.
Although Menolly had not had far to walk on the sands, the heat had quickly penetrated the soles of her slippers. Her discomfort was acute by the time she stepped onto the cooler earth of the Bowl. She edged to one side of the entrance and sank down, her fire lizards grouping themselves about her while she waited for the pain to subside.
As everyone was on the kitchen cavern side of the Bowl, no one noticed her, for which she was grateful since she felt useless and foolish. It would be a long walk across the Bowl to the kitchens. Well, she’d just take it in small sections.
She heard the faint cries of the herdbeasts at the farthest end of the Bowl valley and saw Ramoth hovering for a kill. The weyrwomen had said that Ramoth hadn’t eaten for the past ten days, which was partly the cause of her irascible temper.
By the lakeside, hatchlings were being fed and bathed, and their riders shown how to oil the fragile skin. Their white tunics stood out among the gleaming green, blue, brown and bronze hides. The little queen was slightly removed from the others, with two of the bronze dragons in attendance. She couldn’t see where the white dragon was.
On the weyr ledges dotting the Bowl’s face, some dragons were curled in what remained of the afternoon sun. Above and to the left of her, Menolly saw great bronze Mnementh on the ledge of the queen’s weyr. He was seated on his haunches, watching his mate choose her meal. Menolly saw him move slightly, glancing over his left shoulder. Then Menolly caught a glimpse of a man’s head as he descended the stairs from the queen’s weyr.
Felena’s voice, raised above the conversational babble, brought Menolly’s gaze back to the kitchen cavern where tables were being erected for the evening’s feasting. The dragonriders were doing it, for the bright colors of their best tunics were conspicuous, moving about while the soberer colors of Holder and Craft seemed to stay in stationary clumps at a polite distance from the workers.
The man had reached the Bowl floor now from the queen’s weyr, and Menolly idly watched him start across. Auntie One and Two came sweeping down to her, chittering about something that had excited them and ducking their heads at her for reassurance. They needed to be oiled, and she felt guilty for not taking better care of them.
“Do you have two greens?” asked an amused voice, and the tall man was standing in front of her, his eyes friendly and interested.
“Yes, they’re mine,” she said and held up Two for him to inspect, responding to the kindness and good humor in his long face. “They like their eye ridges scratched, gently, like this,” she added, showing him.
He dropped to one knee in the sand and obligingly caressed Two, who crooned and closed her eyelids in appreciation. Auntie One whistled at Menolly for attention, digging a jealous claw into her hand.
“Stop that, you naughty creature.”
Beauty roused, and Rocky and Diver reacted as well, all three scolding Auntie One so fiercely that she took flight.
“Don’t tell me the queen and the two browns are yours as well?” the man asked, startled.
“I’m afraid so.”
“Then you must be Menolly,” he said, rising to his feet and making such an elaborate bow that she blushed. “Lessa has just told me that I may have two eggs of that clutch you discovered. I’m rather partial to browns, you know, though I wouldn’t actually object to a bronze. Of course the greens, like this lady here,” and he smiled such a winning smile to the watching Two that she crooned responsively, “are such delicate darlings. That doesn’t mean that I would object to a blue, however!”
“Don’t you want the queen?”
“Ah, now that would be greedy of me, wouldn’t it?” He rubbed his face thoughtfully and gave her a wry half-smile. “All things considered, though, I’d be heartily embarrassed if Sebell—my Journeyman is to have possession of the other egg—secured a queen instead. But…” and he threw his long figured [sic] hand upwards to signify his submission to chance. “Are you waiting here for some purpose? Or is the confusion on the other side of the Bowl too much for all your friends?”
“I should be there. The clutch must be turned; the eggs are in warm sand by the hearth; but T’gellan brought me into the Hatching Cavern and told me to wait…”
“And seems to have forgot you. Not surprising, considering today’s surprises.” The man hastily cleared his throat and extended his hand to her.
She accepted his aid because she couldn’t have risen without it. He had taken three strides when he realized that she wasn’t keeping up with him. Politely he turned. Menolly tried to walk normally, a feat she managed for about three strides when her heel came down so painfully on a patch of pebbles that she involuntarily cried out. Beauty whirled, scolding fiercely, and Rocky and Diver added their antics, which were of no help to anyone.
“Here’s my arm, girl. Were you too long on the hot sands? Ah now, wait. You’re a long child, but there’s no meat on your bones.”
Before Menolly could protest, he’d swung her up into his arms and was carrying her across the Bowl.
“Tell that queen of yours I’m helping you,” he asked when Beauty disordered his silvering hair, diving at him. “After sober reflection, be sure you give me green eggs.”
Beauty was too excited to harken to Menolly, so she had to wave her arms about his head and face to protect him. It was not astonishing then that their approach to the kitchen caverns attracted attention; but people made way so politely, bowing to them with such deference, that Menolly began to wonder who the man was. His tunic was a gray cloth with just a band of blue, so he must be a harper of some sort; probably weyrbound to Fort Weyr to judge by the yellow arm device.
“Menolly, did you hurt your feet?” Felena appeared before them, curious at the flurry of excitement. “Didn’t T’gellan remember you? He’s got no memory, drat the man. How good of you to rescue her, sir!”
“Think nothing of it, Felena. I discovered she was custodian of the fire lizard eggs. However, if you happened to have a cup of wine…This is thirsty work.”