Although it was the dragon who dominated that first moment, the rider soon took center stage with his strong words and the contemptuous tone in which he delivered them. He spoke to Crenden as if the trader were a drudge, an unperson of no importance but to serve the dragonrider’s orders. For his father, and for himself, and for the shattered remainder of their kin, Jayge resented that tone, that dragonrider, and all he stood for. And he hated the dragonrider for all he had not done to protect them.
“We aren’t ground crew, dragonrider. We’re what’s left of the Lilcamp train,” Crenden said in a hoarse voice. Those behind stared wearily up with unspoken resentment.
“A train?” The dragonrider was contemptuous. “A train—out during Threadfall? Man, you’re insane.”
“We knew of no Threadfall when we left Kimmage Hold.”
Jayge drew in his breath. He had never heard his father utter a falsehood—yet that was not a true lie. They had not heard of Threadfall at the time they had set out from Kimmage Hold. And it was right for his father to shame the dragonrider.
“You should have known!” The dragonrider would not accept responsibility. “Word was sent out to all holds.”
“It didn’t reach Kimmage Hold before we left.” Crenden was equally determined to set the blame.
“Well, we can’t protect every stupid trader and isolated spot, you know. And I’m beginning to wonder why we bothered to come here at all, if this is all the gratitude we receive! Which lord are you beholden to? Take it up with him. It was up to him to be sure you were warned. And if there’re no ground crews from Kimmage, this entire area could be at risk. C’mon, Rimbeth. Now we’ve got to check the whole bloody area!” He glared at Crenden. “It’ll be your fault if there’re burrows here. You hear me?”
With that, the dragonrider replaced his helmet and took a firm grip on the straps that fastened him into position. In the brief moment, Jayge was certain that the dragon was looking directly at him as he stood there by the fire. Then the big beast turned his head, spread his wings, and launched himself into the sky.
“Rimbeth’s rider, I’ll know you again! I’ll seek you out if it’s the last thing I do!” Crenden’s words were a fierce shout as he raised his fist skyward.
Jayge watched, incredulous, as first the dragon was there, and then it was not. Dragonriders were not what he had expected them to be, what he had been taught they should be. He never wanted to see another dragonrider in his life.
The next morning, they managed to get four wagons out of the pool, along with as much of their baggage as remained usable after the immersion. Their foodstores had been destroyed, or swept away by the current. Many of the lighter bundles and crates had either been burned up, or had floated loose and been lost. Three of the twelve surviving beasts had lost eyes to Threadfall; all were savagely scored across their backs and the muzzles they had lifted out of the water to breathe. But they could be harnessed, and without them the retrieval of the wagons would have been impossible. Only four of the loose runners made their way back, badly scored but alive.
Jayge counted himself and Fairex very lucky indeed when he had time to think about anything but the appalling tragedy. His mother seemed scarcely to realize the loss of her two youngest children. She kept looking about her, a puzzled frown on her face. Even before Crenden had made the decision to seek help from Kimmage Hold, she had begun to cough, a soft, apologetic cough.
The second morning, with patched harness and wagons still damp, the Lilcamps turned back to Kimmage Hold. It was an uphill journey, hard on animals with open sores on their backs, and on people weighed down by grief and despair. Jayge led his little mare as she trudged patiently with Borel’s three small weeping children on her back. Their mother had shielded them from a tangle of Thread that had eaten her to the bone before her lifeless form had slid into the pool, drowning the voracious organism. Challer had died trying to protect his prize team.
“I don’t understand it, Brother, “Jayge heard his Uncle Readis murmur to his father as they trudged up the road. “Why did Childon not send someone to help us?”
“We survived without them,” Crenden said emotionlessly.
“I can’t call the loss of seven people and most of our wagons ‘survival,’ Cren!” His voice was rough with anger. “Simple decency requires Childon—”
“Simple decency flew out of the hold when Thread fell. You heard that dragonrider, clear as I did!”
“But…I heard Childon beg you to stay. Surely they’ll need us more now.”
Crenden gave his younger brother a long cynical stare and then shrugged, plodding along in boots that had split open with the wear of the last few days. Jayge squirmed inside himself, and his hand went to his little hoard of credits. There would be no new saddle now. Other things would be needed more. Young as he was, Jayge knew that everything had abruptly altered. And young as he was, he also recognized the essential injustice that Childon, and all Kimmage Holders, imposed on the Lilcamps when they returned. Where before they had been honored guests, valuable partners in a logging venture, the Lilcamps had lost most of their assets—wagons, livestock, and tools.
“I’ve my own folk, beholden to me, to provide for now, for the fifty long Turns this Pass will last. I can’t take in any holdless and improvident family to apply to me,” Childon said, never once looking Crenden straight in the eye. “You’ve wounded and sick, and kids too young to be useful. Your stock’s all injured. Take time and medicine to heal ‘em. I’ve got to provide ground crews for every Fall, to support not only Igen Weyr but Benden when they call on us. I’m going to be hard-pressed to look after my own. You must understand my position.”
For one long hopeful moment, Jayge thought his father was going to storm indignantly out of the hold. Then Gledia coughed, trying to smother it in her hand. That was the moment, Jayge later decided, when his father capitulated. His wide shoulders sagged and he bowed his head. “I do understand your position, Holder Childon.”
“Well, just so’s you understand, we’ll see how things go on. You can bed down in the beasthold. I lost a lot of stock that’re going to be very hard to replace. I’ll talk about compensation for yours later, for I can’t waste fodder on the useless, not with Thread falling I can’t.”
No Lilcamp was really surprised when Readis, unwilling to accept such humiliation, left during the night. For many nights afterward, Jayge had nightmares involving dragon eyes shooting fire lances through his uncle’s twisting, bloody body. Later that spring, Jayge’s hoarded credits helped pay the healer for Gledia’s treatment. But Gledia died before full summer, while all the ablebodied men, including Jayge, were out as ground crew.
2: North Telgar Hold to Igen Hold, Present Pass, 02.04.12
THELLA HEARD ABOUT the spring Gather at Igen Hold on one of her dark-night forays to Far Cry Hold, where she had gone to acquire seedlings from their starting beds to renew the small garden she had just begun. Hiding behind bales of dry fodder, she overheard a conversation between the beastmaster and the barnman; both were plainly envious of those chosen to make the trip to Igen, despite the dangers of such a journey during a Pass.