Once under the vaulting roof of Fort’s Lower Cavern, he could see little but the hearths along its outer edge.
“If you can find any firing, indeed,” he said with a snort. “And nothing to light it with.” He thought he’d best get some matches and hand them out to the other lads so that they could start a fire on their turns. Maybe see that there was some tinder for them to smuggle along. A glowbasket, even the smallest of them, couldn’t be hidden under a jacket. Even the smallest blaze would be better than this deep black darkness. Not as dark, though, as between.
But there was light outside, so Robinton went exploring. He’d taken the precaution of looking at the plans of Fort Weyr in the Archives. He’d told his roommates to do so, as well, when they
had a chance during their script lessons. So he found the steps leading to the rank of junior queen weyrs. They’d be warmer since they got their heat, as Fort Hold and the Harper Hall did, from deep inside the earth. No one now knew how that had been done, but it was why they didn’t all freeze in the bleaker months of full winter.
He was somewhat glad that this ordeal occurred in the early autumn.
He stumbled twice going up the stairs: the steps were slightly uneven, though wide enough to accommodate his whole foot. He found the entrance to the first weyr by almost falling into it – he’d been guiding himself along the ledge with one hand on the stone wall on his right.
Entering, still one hand on the wall, he once again almost fell inside when he reached the outer room, where the queen dragon had slept. As he moved cautiously into the room, he could smell the odd spicy odour that was so “dragony’.
Where had the weyrfolk gone to? There were so many notions about that: including the one which had all the dragonriders and weyrfolk returning to where the Ancients had come from. If they had, then why had no one else come to Pern? Surely there would be interest in the dragons of Pern!
He barked his shin on the dragon’s couch and let out an exclamation, rubbing his leg. In the ensuing silence he heard the faint rustle of tunnel snakes making their way out (he hoped) of the weyr. He decided he’d gone far enough into the darkness, and sat down on the raised stone. Unexpectedly, he sat in a shallow declivity and felt around in it. Obviously, large and heavy dragon bodies had formed depressions in the stone, and he ran daring fingers in the dust, as if he could conjure the creatures which had made the hollows. That, more than anything else, reassured him. He grinned and rearranged his body, swinging his legs round so that he was facing the faint light coming down the hall, the wallow accommodating his still slight frame while he could pillow his head on his arms on the outer edge. He must remember to thank Falloner for taking him around Benden Weyr. Fort might be empty of its people and creatures, but it was still a Weyr and one of the safest places on his world. He could smell dragon, and dust, but mostly dragon. He went to sleep listening to the faint rustlings of tunnel snakes, but he doubted they would dare venture where dragons had lain.
It did him no harm with all the other apprentices that he had to be wakened in the dusk preceding dawn by some loud shouting. When Robinton emerged on the weyr ledge, Shonagar urgently waved him down.
“Where have you been, Rob? We gotta get back to the Hall before they know we’ve borrowed the runners. We’ve been all over the place looking for you.”
“It’s warm in a weyr,” Robinton said, yawning.
“Sorry to disturb your slumbers. Mount up. We’re going to have to move!” Shonagar had a respectful scowl on his face as he handed the initiate the reins. “And remember, not a word to the others.
They must do it themselves, too.”
“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Rob said, grinning.