I only shook my head, a bit shocked at the way my pulses had leaped and my heart skipped at this unexpected invitation to go where I desperately wanted to be. During Suriana's lifetime, Ruatha had been the lodestone for my only chance of some happiness and freedom. I had freed myself of Fort Hold's Blood yoke and was now equally free to go to Ruatha, especially now that I had been given what was tantamount to an invitation. It would be a Ruatha sadly changed from the Hold Suriana had described, but I would be of more use there now, especially going as Rill, not as Lady Nerilka. It was employment and purpose I sought, wasn't it?
"If it's someone good with runners you need, I've two men here spending their waking hours carving scrimshaw for lack of something to do till spring comes in earnest," Bestrum said expansively. "Rill jabbed 'em with the rest of us this morning, so they've no call to fear going to Ruatha."
So it was arranged. As the two beast handlers, brothers sharing the same phlegmatic temperament and solid builds, collected their necessaries, Gana kindly fetched out a heavy cloak against the biting cold of between. She busied about with her drudges, organizing provisions for three more mouths as well as collecting three great apprentice-blown glass jars, which M'barak and I had to arrange so as not to crack together on Arith.
This was by no means my first contact with a dragon, but certainly it was the most extended and personal. Dragons have a warm, very smooth soft hide, which leaves a spicy smell on your hands. Arith rumbled a lot, though M'barak assured me that it didn't mean he was annoyed with his unusual burden. We padded the great glass bottles; Fort had more than its share of these apprentice efforts, although I cannot remember what Mother did with them.
I made a final check on the boy's wound, but it looked unchanged and he was fast asleep, a smile on his face from the fellis. Then I took my farewell of Bestrum and Gana, who, though I had known them only a few hours, were profuse in their good wishes. I told them that I would ask about their children and the servant, and send back word. Gana knew there was slight hope, but the offer gave her comfort.
When Bestrum gave me a heave to the dragon's back, I thumped into place behind M'barak's slight but straight body and hoped I didn't hurt Arith. The two brothers got aboard with less fuss, and it was comforting to know that there were two behind me to fall off before I would be in danger.
Arith executed a little run before he jumped skyward, then his fragile-looking, transparent wings took the first mighty sweep downward. It was the most exhilarating experience I had ever had, and I envied dragonriders anew as Arith's strong wings carried us further aloft. I needed the cloak as well as the buffer of warm bodies in front and behind me.
M'barak must have known how I was feeling, for he turned his head and gave me a wide pleased grin. "Hold on now. Rill, we're going between," he yelled. At least, that's what I thought he must have said as the wind tore his voice away.
If flying dragonback is exhilarating, going between is the essence of terror. Blackness, nothingness, a cold so intense my extremities ached, and only the knowledge that riders and dragons experienced the same thing daily with no ill effect kept me from screaming in fear. Just as I was sure I would suffocate, we were sun struck again as Arith brought us by that unique draconic instinct to our destination. Then I had far more to concern me than that fleeting passage through black between.
I had never been to Ruatha Hold, but Suriana had sent me innumerable sketches of the establishment and had described its amenities time and again. The great Hold, carved from the living rock of the cliff face, could not be altered physically, but somehow it was completely unlike Suriana's drawings. She had told me of the pleasant air about the Hold, of the hospitality and warmth and friendliness so different from the cool, detached formality of Fort. She had explained how many people, family and otherwise, were constantly in and out of the Hold. She had described the meadows, the racing flats, the lovely fields down to the river. She had not lived to describe the huge burial mounds or the chamel circle of blackened earth, the litter of broken travel wagons and personal effects that were scattered up the roadstead that had once been graced by Gather stalls, bright with banners and people and barter.
I was stunned, and only peripherally aware that the phlegmatic brothers were also shocked by the view. Mercifully, M'barak was a tactful young man and said nothing as Arith glided past the desolate Hold. I did see one encouraging sight: five people seated in the court, obviously soaking up the afternoon sun.
"Two dragons now. Brother," the man directly behind me said with great satisfaction.
Looking ahead, I could see that a great bronze dragon was depositing passengers at the wide entrance to the beasthold. The bronze took off as Arith hurtled across the plowed fields. We could see sun gleaming on his hide and wings, and then he just disappeared. Arith settled down in exactly the same spot the bronze had occupied.
"Moreta," M'barak called, gesturing eagerly. The tall woman with short, curly blond hair turned back to him. The Fort Weyrwoman was the last person I expected to encounter at Ruatha.
I shall always remember that I had that opportunity to see Moreta again and at that particular moment in her life, when her face was tinged with sun and an inner serenity that I was not to understand until much later. She had, of course, been at Fort Hold in her capacity of Weyrwoman since she had assumed that responsibility on Leri's retirement. But these were infrequent visits -on state occasions-so although I had been in the same Hall with her, we had never actually spoken together. I had had the impression that she was shy or reticent, but then Tolocamp did so much talking in that ponderous way of his that I doubt she'd have had a chance to speak.
"Hurry up!" M'barak's voice hauled me away from my impressions of that moment. "I need help with these silly bottles and I've people here who say they can handle runners. And we've got to hurry because I have to prepare for the fall. F'neldril will skin me if I'm late!"
Two other men and a slim, dark-haired girl moved out of the shadows to help. I knew Alessan on the instant and supposed the girl must be his surviving sister, Oklina. The other man wore Harper blue. The brothers dismounted quickly, and M'barak and I handed down first the provisions and then the great bottles, none of which had suffered any travel damage.
"If you'll slip down, Moreta can mount," M'barak suggested, with a grin of apology for his haste.
So, for the first time, I traded places with Moreta. I would have liked to have sustained the contact then, for she had a manner about her that made one want to get to know her better. She appeared considerably less aloof than she had seemed in the Hold. As Arith began his preparatory little run, Moreta did look back over her shoulder. But it couldn't have been at me.
I turned and saw that Alessan had shaded his eyes to watch until the dragon went between. Then he smiled, his welcome taking me in along with the two brothers, and held out his hand in the friendliest way. "You've come to help us with the runners? Was M'barak frank about what is needed in ruined Ruatha?"
At first I thought he sounded bitter, but came to understand that he did not hide from the grim realities of his situation. He ever had a wry sense of humor, but Suriana, preparing me for my long-expected visit to Ruatha, had warned me of that. What would she think of her foster sister coming here like this?