“Leri insists on flying?”
“There’s no reason to stop her.”
“You’ll remind her, of course, to stay mounted.”
“She always does.”
Sh’gall shrugged, absolving himself of responsibility for Len. “Tend your dragons, then. Threadfall is slated for midday.” He turned to beckon the wingleaders forward.
“Is he complaining about Leri again?” Kamiana asked, perversely forgetting her own objections.
“Not really,” Moreta replied then made her way out of the cavern, the queen nders following her.
Around the Bowl, on the ledges or on the ground, riders were harnessing dragons, arranging firestone sacks on dragon necks. Others daubed oil on recent scars and examined rough patches on hide or wing membranes. Wingleaders and wingseconds were busy overseeing the preparations. Weyrhngs ducked around riders and dragons on errands. The atmosphere was busy but not frantic. The bustle had the right tone to it, Moreta decided as she made her way to the far side of the Bowl. The activity was routine, familiar, almost
comforting when she considered the probability that, elsewhere on Pem, men and beasts might be dying of the plague.
That is not a good thought, Oriith said sternly.
“True. And not one to take into Fall. Forgive me.”
There is no fault. The day is clear! We will meet Thread well.
Orlith’s sturdy confidence imbued Moreta with optimism. The sun streamed in from the east, and the crisp air was invigorating after the clammy weather that had prevailed. A good deep frost now would be most beneficial, she thought as she climbed the stairs. Not too long a cold spell, just enough to freeze the pernicious insects and reduce the snake population.
“I’ll do Holth’s harness first.”
Leri has help.
Moreta grinned at Orlith’s impatience. That was a good spirit in a dragon. As she entered the weyr, Oriith was off her couch, her eyes sparkling, their whirl speeding up with anticipation. Oriith lowered her head. In a burst of affection and love for her partner and friend, Moreta flung her arms about the triangular muzzle, squeezing as tightly as she could, knowing that her strongest embrace would be as nothing to the husky beast. Oriith rumbled and Moreta could feel the loving vibration. Reluctantly she released Oriith. Briskly then, she turned to the harness hanging on its wall pegs.
As she arranged the straps, she ran the leather through knowing hands. The cold of between ate into equipment, and most riders changed harnesses three or four times a Turn. Finding all was well with the leather, Moreta then examined Orlith’s wings despite the queen’s growing impatience to be up on the Star Stone height, overseeing the final preparations. Next Moreta checked the gauge on the agenothree tank, made sure the nozzle head was clean, and strapped on the tank. Then queen and rider moved out to the ledge. On the one above, Holth and Leri were already waiting.
Moreta waved to Leri and received a jaunty salute. Settling her eyepieces, Moreta fastened her helmet, hitched back the cumbersome flamethrower, and mounted Oriith. With a mighty heave, Oriith launched herself toward the Rim.
“That’s quite an effort, dear heart,” Moreta said.
Once I am airborne, there is no effort.
To allay Moreta’s anxiety, Oriith executed a very deft turn and landed with precision near Kadith. The dragon was a good-size
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beast, a deep rich shade of bronze with green undertones. He was not the largest bronze in Fort Weyr but, in his mating nights with Orlith, he had proved the most agile, daring, and energetic. Kadith looked up at Orlith and affectionately stroked his head on her neck. Orlith accepted the caress demurely, turning her head to touch muzzles.
Then Sh’gall signaled the blue, green, brown, and bronze riders to feed their dragons firestone. Considering it was an essential step in the destruction of Thread, Moreta could never take it as seriously as she ought. She kept her face composed and eyes straight ahead but she knew exactly the expression on the dragons’ facespensive, eyes half closed as the dragon maneuvered firestone to the grinding surfaces of sturdy teeth, taking the greatest care to set the rock just so before applying pressure. The force that would pulverize firestone could also wreak considerable damage to a dragon’s tongue. Dragons chewed firestone cautiously.