"It won't hurt Golly to turn around in place. He has done it." Tai spoke firmly, sounding a bit like Keita.
I can do it.And Golanth ended that argument by rising to four feet, and whatever the turn might have lacked in grace, it did allow his seated rider to see all of him, glistening in ribbons and patches with recently and generously applied numbweed. Except for the deepest ones, the claw marks were now mostly black tracings; where the wing sails had been punctured, the membrane tissue was ringed with pale new growth. When F'lessan asked him to, Golanth obediently stopped so his rider could lean forward for a closer look at one deep groove or the imprint of claw tips. At the point where Golanth was facing Zaranth on her ledge, he raised his head and gave her an affectionate lick.
Tai tried to gauge F'lessan's assessment of his dragon's condition but his usually mobile face was expressionless. His hands expressed his anguish, his fingers clenching and unclenching as if he wished he could erase the injuries, finally settling helplessly to the arms of the chair. Then Golanth halted, in front of his seated rider.
"Swimming would do F'lessan a lot of good," Tai murmured.
Zaranth made the most astonishing sound of surprise, her eyes whirling into yellow and she extended her head and neck in protest.
I'm only a green. I would need a lot of practice to move as much as Golanth.
F'lessan gave a burst of laughter. When you bounced all those felines like so many wherries?
I was angry. I was afraid.Zaranth's look was so apologetic that F'lessan laughed again, shaking his head at her. I didn't bounce you last night.
I helped,Golanth said with dignity, sweeping his weyr-mate a kindly glance. When I need to move, I will move myself. I can fall over the edge of the terrace just as you did last night.
Not just yet, Golly,both riders said urgently.
Zaranth curved her head back. You couldn't have seen me. And you can't go falling off the terrace. You've too much wingspread to drop off
When I need to move, I said,and his dignity increased. I heard you last night. Nothing's wrong with my hearing. Swimming would be good for my rider. You must take him today. F'lessan, tell the healers you must swim.
I'm not leaving you,F'lessan replied stoutly.
I am much better, you know. So are you,Golanth said, shoving his nose gently at F'lessan's knees, the good eye serenely steady. Then he cocked his head so he could see through the left eye.
"Keita gave me this to help lubricate his lids," Tai said, handing F'lessan the jar. It took her breath away to see the ruin of the left eye in full light and she knew it must be worse for his rider.
"Yes, that's a good idea," F'lessan said in an even voice and unscrewed the jar. With the tip of a delicately poised finger, he applied the gel. "Now close that lid and I'll do the other."
"Swimming would be very good for you," Tai repeated when he had finished that ministration. "Your wounds are closed. Going betweenwon't affect them. I'm sure we can get you on Zaranth's back. The sea would do you good. Getting away from here would do you good."
F'lessan leaned back in the chair, regarding her steadily just as Keita approached.
"What's this about the sea?" the healer asked.
"It'd be excellent therapy, Keita, you know that. The dolphins will assist."
There was considerably more discussion about swimming. Basically Keita had no objection but she wanted a healer to accompany them, even offering to go herself, with perhaps T'lion and his Gadareth as support while F'lessan insisted that Tai and Zaranth would be more than adequate companions. Somewhat reluctantly Keita admitted that the presence of dolphins would suffice if Tai were certain they'd appear. F'lessan and Tai both reassured her.
"He doesn't need to get out of the water," Tai insisted, remaining firm but not pleading. "He can swim off and on Zaranth without requiring help or getting sand on him. We won't do much today, but the water is so-so buoyant."
"Let them have some time to themselves, Master Keita," Sagassy said firmly, giving Tai a wink. "The change would do them good and they'd be back in time for lunch and hungry for it. Golanth here won't be out of touch with them for a moment. Will you, bronze dragon?"
Not many non-riders were bold enough to ask a dragon's opinion but Sagassy had become quite comfortable with the bronze. He nodded and the remaining facets on his left eye began to exhibit whirls of enthusiasm.
That first excursion-short though it was-marked a decided turn in F'lessan's recuperation. And that night they shared a bed.
On that last tack into Monaco Bay, Shankolin saw Landing once again ahead of him on its hill, the three volcanoes in the distance. He had had no warning from Lord Toric about the current size of the facility. Now he understood why the Lord Holder had advised him to come here and survey the area with the view of bringing total destruction to the Abomination, and all its adjuncts. Then the view was hidden as the ship tacked again, closing with the wharf where it would moor.
Even during their conversation at Telgar Hold, Shankolin was wary of coming to Landing but Toric had said that there would be no trouble at all to arrange entry into the Admin Building itself so that Shankolin could estimate just what method would serve their mutual purpose. Toric gave him a substantial number of marks and observed that he had best journey from one of the smaller seaholds on Nerat's Foot. Toric knew of a fisherman whose captain owed him a favor or two and would sail him directly to Monaco Bay. He remarked that gloves on Shankolin's hand would disguise the missing joint and a cap pulled down on the forehead would hide the scar.
"Someone saw you and the Harper Hall has passed a rough sketch of you around. You'd best cover what you can and change what you're wearing now."
Shankolin suppressed a smile at the Lord Holder's disgust but smell was as much a disguise as clothing. To most observers, Shankolin was a hill man whom few would approach for several reasons, one of them being the body odor.
Just before Shankolin reached Loscar port, he washed both himself and his stinking clothes in a stream. In the port, it was easy to buy good secondhand clothing, suitable for a sea voyage. He found the captain Toric had recommended and presented him with the first of the hastily scribbled notes Toric had provided. He gave his name as Glasstol from Crom and no one challenged it. He spent most of the journey either asleep or eating. One of the more sociable crewmen explained how much the Flood had improved the Loscar harbor, and was answered by an uncivil grunt. So no one tried again to enter conversations with a passenger who clearly wished to keep to himself.
On his arrival at Monaco Bay, Shankolin was struck by the repairs already made; even its shipbuilding facilities were back in place. He had heard that the area had been inundated by five major tsunami waves and significant smaller ones to extend the sea inland as far as a man could walk in a day. That the wharf was new-and the reek of its wood preservative dominated even the smell of fish-was inescapable. A weathered metal pylon with a bell at its apex had been erected. The captain pointed out the new floats on the seaward side where shipfish would come when the bell was rung. Sometimes, the shipfish would summon the Portmaster. Shankolin had been raised inland and doubted this unlikely story.
As he had once before, he found a carter who was taking supplies from the harbor to Landing and, for a half mark, allowed him to climb into one of the wagons. It was slow. He helped with the burden beasts pulling the heavy loads and the carter, not a curious man by nature, spoke more to them than to his passenger.
By the time Shankolin was left off by the carter at the edge of the widely expanded Landing, he was glad of the map Toric had given him so he could make contact with the Southern Holder's contact in Landing: a man called Esselin who could be found in the Archives. He also owed Lord Toric favors, which was why Esselin would oblige Shankolin by escorting him into the Admin Building and the Aivas chamber. Shankolin found Master Esselin about to leave the main Archive Building, which had far too many windows. Perhaps that design shed light into the room and the shelving on which masses of books were visible, but all that glass would splinter so easily and destroy the contents. Shankolin began to assess how much explosives he would need. Perhaps Lord Toric knew of a man who could supply him.