Alyena was nervous.  And annoyed.  She'd never gone anywhere by ship; when she had moved to Fort from Benden, she'd traveled overland.  Ship was supposed to be much faster, but it wasn't considered as safe.  The idea of being stuck on a boat, which wasn't particularly large and was, by her standards, confining, was not at all appealing.  Being stuck in close quarters with Polran, who had spent the last three days trying to talk her out of this trip, was just plain obnoxious.

But Aleamor and Rodia had made it quite clear: she was going this way to Tillek Hold, with their daughter Yesia and son-in-law Tinas, and Polran was her escort.  Officially, the trip was to give Alyena and Polran broader experience.  Unofficially, it was a way to transfer the two youngsters to Exile Weyr - they would be picked up at night by dragonriders and taken to the Weyr, presumably with no one the wiser except for the parties directly involved.  Unfortunately, it meant Alyena was seeing a side of Polran that she'd never noticed before: overbearing, overprotective, and overdone.  She wanted to whack him over the head with one of her mixing spoons.

In the early morning, they boarded the sloop, named Jonbee.  Apparently, the ship was named after a song that had been found in the AIVAS database, which the sailors were singing as they made ready to cast off.  Alyena wasn't musical at all, but she could appreciate good music.  She'd grown up hearing the cooks humming to themselves as they worked in the kitchens, and knew that it helped pass the time.  Her lip curled at the cabin she'd been assigned: tiny, just like she'd expected.  She tossed her pack on the floor under the hammock and made her way to the railing at the front of the sloop as they started to creep away from the dock.  She resisted the urge to watch the mountains of Fort diminish behind them as they pulled out.  Her new life was in front of her, now.

Polran joined her soon after, stepping up behind her and leaning on his arms, possessively placed on either side of her and pinning her to the railing.  At first she stiffened and considered elbowing him to get him to back off, but then the boat slewed sideways, making the turn out of the harbor, and she found herself glad for the arms that kept her from staggering to the side.  They had only recently started to become physically affectionate, when she had reached her majority and he had relinquished any claim on inheritance in favor of his twin brother.  It was "okay" for the two of them to associate once he was no longer likely to become Lord Holder; not that marrying the Hold's Headwoman would have been a bad thing for a Lord Holder, by any means, but Peruon had to at least appear available to other Lords with eligible daughters.  For his Lord Marshall-to-be, however, there was nothing standing in the way.  As they turned south to travel around Southern Boll's peninsula, the wind surged, filling their ship's sails, and the craft leaped forward, pushing her back against the young man's chest, and Alyena found herself smiling and remembering just why the two of them had become affectionate in the first place...and decided not to shove him away right now.  If he'd just stop begging her to not stand for Hatching...

It would be 3 days until they reached Southern Boll.  They would drop Elden and Ristabel off there.  The four older holders had traveled by boat many more times than the two youngsters.  They spent time getting their bunks settled before coming topside and spending time walking the decks and talking to the captain.  Polran seemed to sense that saying anything right now would set his companion off and just braced himself behind her against the rail as their transport glided smoothly across the morning's calm seas, enjoying the feel of her leaning back against him.

Before long, Alyena started to feel a little chilled.  They were heading south, and the wind was at their backs, but there was still wind in her face, and it was early morning and cold.  The moment she shivered, though, she knew that Polran would become solicitous and she wasn't in the mood for that.  With a sigh, she leaned forward and ducked under his arm to make her way back to her cabin.  She swayed a bit, unaccustomed to the motion of the ship, but quickly found her footing.  She was glad she hadn't felt any signs of the queasiness that others had warned her about.  She did collide with the door post as she entered her room, but she was alone in the hallway and no one saw.  She rummaged in her pack until she found the sweater Rodia had given her.  Both teenagers had been given heavy clothing.  On their second night out from Southern Boll, they were supposed to get dressed in it and wait on the deck for the dragonriders to come get them.

Alyena wasn't entirely sure she believed in the dragons and their riders.  She knew Learyam a bit, from his travels to the Hold over the years, though she didn't know him well.  But she trusted him.  She was fairly certain that Polran was convinced this whole thing was a charade.  He should have known Learyam better than she, but then again, he'd always been the type who needed to be able to touch the evidence to believe in it.  Well, if this wasn't a charade, he'd soon have all the evidence to convince himself that he could ever want!

She wasn't sure she wanted to go out on the deck again, but the size of the cabin was already starting to bother her.  She decided to try the galley; after all, wasn't she a baker?!  To her disappointment, it wasn't much larger than her cabin, and was cluttered with tables and benches.  Finally, she wound her way back topside, on the stern, away from Polran and the other passengers who were standing at the bow and talking animatedly.  Unfortunately, she found herself starting to shiver again, and made her way to the wheelhouse instead of going below decks again.  The wheelhouse wasn't large, but it had windows almost all the way around, allowing the captain a relatively unobstructed view of their surroundings, so she thought maybe she'd be more comfortable there.  That august character glanced over as she poked her head in the door.  "May I come inside?" she asked timidly.

"Of course, lass.  Rodia warned me about your claustrophobia.  If you're comfortable in here, you're welcome any time."  Alyena was fascinated by the meerschaum pipe that bobbed about his mouth, barely causing a lisp in his speech.  It didn't appear to be lit.  Out of the wind, but not feeling as confined, she perched on a stool in the corner.  "First time at sea?" he asked.

She nodded and then realized he wasn't looking her direction and spoke, "Yes.  It's colder than I expected."

The big man guffawed.  "Always chilly in the mornings.  Warms up fast once the sun's up, though.  Give it a couple of hours, you'll be baking in that sweater."  Alyena smiled, suspecting that the captain didn't know her profession, nor how funny that statement was to her.

The captain was correct: a couple of hours later, she was out on the deck with her sweater tied about her waist.  She leaned against the rail of the poop deck, watching the languid activity of the sailors below her.  They were never still for very long, though unless the wind changed or something unexpected occurred, they didn't hurry, either.  She found that she liked the sensation.  The kitchens were always so busy, and there was always a time constraint on everything.  Except very early in the morning - which was when she liked to work.  She could work at her own pace without people shouting and running about like their smocks were on fire.  It led her to wonder what like was like in the Weyr: did they hurry around, always under the impending threat of Fall, or did they take time to enjoy life?  Well, she'd find out soon enough.

She offered to help in the galley as lunchtime approached.  The cook shrugged.  "Not much to do.  Fire isn't a safe thing to have aboard a ship, so we mostly eat cold foods, things that don't require baking.  If we have something we want heated up, we put it in a solar oven on the deck.  Not many dishes to do, either.  People come by as they're hungry and grab something."  Oh.  Not what she was expecting.  So she got a cold cut and slipped back outside to the deck.  She sat on the stairs leading to the poop deck to eat, enjoying the sea breeze and the smell of the ocean.

Polran joined her before long, although he didn't have any food, and looked a bit green.  She refrained from teasing him, knowing that if he wasn't feeling well, it would help keep him from haranguing her during the trip.  No point in making it any worse.  A couple hours later, the water became choppier as the wind changed directions, and sent the boy scrambling for the railing.  Alyena took the opportunity to slip away, back to the wheelhouse, where the first mate ignored her as she settled on the seat she'd occupied earlier.  Her stomach full and feeling pleasantly warm, she started to doze, leaning into the corner of the windows.  No one disturbed her until the captain came in to take a turn at the wheel again as the light started to fade.  "Go try out your hammock, lass.  It's much more comfortable than that old stool."

Properly chastened, she slipped down the steps and into the cabin.  She opened the porthole window, giving the room some air.  She stared at the hammock, not entirely certain how to get into it without getting dumped on the floor.  She finally just tried and found it wasn't nearly as unstable as it looked.  Realizing there was a bite to the air gusting in from the window, she decided to use the blanket that was secured on a nearby shelf.  She cautiously stretched out on the suspended cot, finding that it folded a bit in the middle, cupping around her securely.  It made getting the blanket situated a little awkward, but she finally managed to completely cover herself without falling out.  She stared out the window as the stars started winking on and didn't notice when she fell asleep.

#Site-Mini-Plot

Although Alyena hadn't grown more comfortable with the tiny cabin on the ship, she had gotten more comfortable sleeping in the hammock.  She barely roused when the ship gently kissed the dock at Southern Boll in the middle of the night, but the ruckus from the sailors and porters unloading goods pierced her sleep.  Shivering, she pulled on the warm overclothes that they were going to wear when the dragons came to get them (if such a thing actually happened!) and went topside to see what was going on.  She started to give Yesia, Tinas, Ristabel, Elden, and Polran a wide berth as they said their farewells near the gangplank leading down to the dock.  The four older holders saw her and waved her over, and she joined them, somewhat reluctantly.  She felt like an intruder on the family gathering.

Ristabel embraced her and murmured well-wishes and encouragement, ending with, "Keep my kid brother in line, will you?"  Alyena smirked when she caught Polran's exasperated look out of the corner of her eye.

Elden shook her hand with a smile.  "My in-laws speak very highly of you.  Make us proud!"  The young woman was flustered by the familial possessiveness in the man's statement.

Polran leaned in as the couple started down the plank and muttered, "No pressure, huh?" with a nervous laugh.

Alyena returned the boy's giggle with a breathy titter of her own.  "Right.  No pressure!"

Yesia and Tinas smiled as they waved at their departing family.  "You'll both do just fine," Yesia stated confidently, which did nothing to bolster the younger couple's certainty.

They didn't remain in port very long, as the captain wanted to catch the tide on the way out.  They had some cargo to load and unload, but it didn't take much time.  The skyline had just begun to lighten as Ristabel and Elden departed the ship, and by the time the sun peeked over the horizon, the ship was turning about to exit the harbor.  As she'd done every day on this trip, Alyena retreated to the wheelhouse where it was warmer.  It wasn't long before she stripped off the heavy coat and returned it to her cabin.

Polran's diet on board the ship had consisted primarily of dry bread.  Although he didn't lose control of his stomach frequently, he did at least once a day, usually when the water got choppy in the late afternoon or early evening, and he looked perpetually nauseated.  He rarely strayed far from an outer rail.  He tended to avoid Alyena when she was eating.  He seemed to feel a little put out that she was able to so comfortably consume "normal" food while he turned green just watching her eat.  A small part of her took a certain perverse pleasure in his discomfort, but mostly, she felt bad for him.

They had a hot breakfast this morning, brought on board by the crew while they swapped cargo: sausages with peppers, onions, tubers, and cheese wrapped in a flaky crust and citrus juice.  The galley cook made sure everyone got one, even insisting that Polran eat one while they were still docked and the ship wasn't rocking as much as it would later.  The first hour or so out of port would be smooth sailing, which they often saw in the early mornings and would give the boy's stomach time to digest the better food before they started being jostled by the change in water patterns as they rounded the cape below Southern Boll and turned northwest toward Tillek.

They picked up a stronger wind as they neared the cape, rounding the tip of Southern Boll in the early evening.  The waters began to swell and the tops of the waves sprayed with the wind gusts.  Despite the warmer climate this far south of Fort, the wind kept it from feeling as pleasant.  Alyena found herself wondering how the sailors tolerated winter travel in Tillek, which was farther north and therefore colder than Fort!  She shrugged her way back into the warmer gear before rolling up in the hammock for the night.

The next day, the waters were consistently rough, and Alyena finally started feeling queasy.  Although the horizon darkened at one point, the storm never manifested on their route.  The lookout watched the storm line carefully.

The crew had been on edge all day.  The passengers assumed it was the storm making them nervous.  The captain was keeping it under wraps, but had they known what the crew was worried about, they'd have been less eager to be topside when darkness fell.

At the appointed hour, the two Candidates started dressing in the cold-weather gear they'd been given.  When they stepped out into the hallway, they were greeted by Yesia and Tinas, who were bundled up, though perhaps not quite as warmly as the younger passengers.  Together, the four of them turned to ascend the stairs to the deck when shouts went up from the sailors.  Thinking they were running late and had missed the dragons' appearance, the two couples surged forward up the steps - and walked out into a literal firestorm.  The older adults turned and shoved the younger pair back into the stairwell.

The fire didn't last long: it burned up the Jonbee's sails, rendering them helpless and dead in the water.  A smaller, lighter skiff circled them, and a larger galleon bore down from the side.  The captain saw his passengers peeking through the door and tried to subtly tell them to stay below.  "Don't move, or we'll fire the deck!" someone shouted from the passing craft.  The entire crew stood still, hands spread, their weapons at their feet.  Simple steel was poor protection against a fire elementalist.  The smoldering body of their lookout proved that.  "We'll be boarding shortly.  Better behave yourselves!"  The captain fumed, but there was nothing he could do without risking the lives of everyone on board.

The larger ship drew alongside and cast grappling hooks on ropes over.  The captain flinched when each one caught, gouging his precious ship's decks and rails.  The Jonbee was reeled in like a fish on a hook, and the pirates vaulted onto the sloop's deck.  They began collecting the weapons; some of them grabbed or fondled the captive sailors.  When they approached the door and spotted the passengers, one of them cackled.  "Who do we have here?  C'mon out of there."

Stiffly, Tinas pushed the door open far enough to step out, trying to shield his wife and the younger passengers from sight.  The speaker guffawed.  "All of you!  I know there are more down there."  Tinas held his arm out for Yesia, and Polran and Alyena followed, the young man trying to stand between his paramour and the pirates.  "Well, well.  A Lord and Lady Holder, and...their children?"

Polran started to rebut, but Tinas jumped in.  "Yes.  Our son and his fiancée."  Alyena pinched Polran's hand to keep him quiet.

"Won't you all fetch a pretty ransom?" Speaker sniggered.  "Get on out here.  I promise, we'll be...gentle."  The raucous laughter caused Yesia to blanch.  Their raunchiness was less unfamiliar to Alyena, who had encountered similar behavior in the Fort Hold markets, but none had ever sounded so certain.

Just then, a couple gusts of air thudded into the humans on deck.  A few people looked in the direction and looked away, then did a double-take.  Wild yelling broke out as individuals started to realize there were dragons hovering off the port side of the Jonbee.  Only two, but each one was longer than the sloop, and their combined size was larger than the pirates' galley.  A fireball blossomed from somewhere behind the dragons, but fizzled before it reached the dragons as a third, smaller dragon appeared nearby, its rider clearly not as heavily covered as the other two.

Angry bellows rolled forth from three draconic throats.  "They've got a psi!" the big pirate roared.  "Find him!"

Alyena couldn't take her eyes off the apparitions hovering off the side of the ship.  They were so big!  Speaker grabbed at each of the passengers and shook or shoved them - breaking a psi's concentration was supposed to stop their abilities, of course.  Polran shouted when Speaker grabbed Alyena and tried to intervene; the big pirate backhanded the teenager, and Alyena screamed at him to stop.

The girl's scream drew the dragonriders' attention.  With the four comparative nobles in full view in the light of the lanterns, the dragonriders finally got some idea about what was going on.  With a particularly hideous-sounding snarl, the bronze dragon lurched forward toward the ships, causing several sailors to scatter.  Speaker ignored the chaos, believing it to be a psionic trick; that was, until the dragon's maw closed around him and lifted him from the deck.  With a flick of his head, the dragon sent the pirate flying across the ship, where he slammed into the mast of the galleon.  The pirates froze - it wasn't unheard of for a psi to be able to create a physical action through telekinesis, but for something this complex, it had to be a very powerful psi...

Freed from the grasp of the pirate, Alyena dropped to the deck next to Polran, who wasn't moving.  The red mark on his cheek was already starting to darken to a bruise.  Tinas was mirroring her kneeling position, hovering over his wife.

Two more dragons materialized above and behind the three that were already looming over the three watercraft.  Someone shouted and the original pair of riders looked up, then caught large bags that were tossed to them.  The two newcomers fanned out, one heading toward the small skiff that carried the firestarter and one for the galleon.  The first pair of dragons drifted back from the ships a bit, and they turned their heads back toward their riders.  Moments later, fire belched out from the one who had turned toward the galleon, setting its sails and masts aflame.

The pirates had had enough.  Those on board the sloop scrambled back toward the galleon or dove overboard.  Someone on the larger ship started cutting the grappling lines.  The small skiff turned tail and fled.  The dragon chasing the skiff - a brown - swooped in and fired its sails.  The galleon had oars that they started pushing out.  As soon as the larger ship was separated, the dragon guarding it spewed fire along the sides, setting the oars on fire and eliciting screams from those behind the portholes.  With all three ships dead in the water, the bronze moved in and his rider lowered himself to the deck of the Jonbee by his riding straps.  Only then did Alyena realize that it was T'lon.  "T'lon!" she cried, feeling relieved.

Tinas rose, helping Yesia to her feet.  "Your timing couldn't have been better," the Lord Holder said, holding a hand out in greeting.

T'lon snorted.  "From the looks of things, five minutes sooner would have been better timing!  Are you alright?"  Polran groaned, drawing the adults' attention.  "Shards!" the bronzerider exclaimed.  "I saw him get hit, didn't realize it was that hard.  Well, we'll get him back, safe and sound, and he'll be as good as new in no time.  But before we do that - what about them?"  He jerked his chin in the direction of the pirate ships.

"We sink pirates whenever we catch them," Tinas offered.  The captain of the Jonbee nodded agreement.

T'lon frowned.  "Any chance of other hostages or innocents being on board?  We know there's at least one psionicist with them, and if word gets out that there are dragons around, I can't tell you how bad it would be."

The captain sighed.  "There's a small chance of other hostages, but not very high.  These pirates usually attack a specific target, and they only keep what they take around long enough to get paid, and no longer.  If they have others on board, they were collateral to the attack on my ship, most likely."

The interim Weyrleader sighed heavily, then got a vacant look for a moment.  There was apparently some argument, and a bit later, the other dragon that had arrived at the same time as T'lon glided over toward those ship, followed by the small dragon (Alyena caught a glimpse of brown and then blue as the two dragons drifted past).  "H'lee and Silvara will figure out what to do with the people, and then torch the ships.  Captain, I'm afraid we'll have to insist that you and your passengers accompany us to the Weyr.  We can't be sure who tipped off the pirates, and if someone aboard your vessel did so--" the captain sputtered in outrage, "If someone aboard your vessel is responsible, then we need to keep them as far away from the mainland as possible until we're ready to take on Thread for the entirety of Pern.  We can't risk discovery now, and all of your crew have seen us."

Tinas muttered something unflattering, but agreed.  "You'll be well-compensated, Captian.  I'll personally guarantee that this trip isn't a loss for you and your crew."

"Very well," the man replied stiffly.  "But I don't have enough spare canvas to make all new sails, and we don't have oars like the galleon does--or did."

T'lon smiled wryly.  "You won't be the first ship we've towed to the Weyr this week.  Second biggest, though!  B'nin and Risoth will take the first shift to pull you."  The bronzerider waved toward the brown that had halted the escape of the skiff.  "Since I'm already on deck here, Roth and I will take Polran and Alyena directly to the Weyr.  Lord Tinas, Lady Yesia, you can ride with H'lee.  You can watch how we do these transfers when I take Alyena up."

As he finished speaking, Roth floated in closer, making the captain wince for fear of his masts.  Meesha loosened the catches on the two extra harnesses, and brought them to her master.  T'lon showed Alyena how to put hers on while he and Tinas got Polran to his feet.  The boy was still groggy, and the bronzerider pinched the back of his hand to keep him awake.  T'lon fastened his riding straps to his belt and, grabbing hold, hauled himself hand-over-hand onto Roth's back.  "You won't have to pull yourself up this time, I'll help you," he shouted down to Alyena.

"Good," she muttered, flexing her right hand and wincing.  She clipped the two straps to Polran's belt.  T'lon took up the slack and Alyena made sure her friend was awake enough to keep himself balanced, then he was hauled up.  T'lon got the boy seated behind him, and then repeated the maneuver with Alyena, somewhat more gracefully since she was able to assist more than Polran had been able to.

By then, additional dragons were arriving, but it was so dark now that Alyena couldn't see them, she could only hear and feel the presence of the massive creatures around them.  "We're going to get a little more altitude, and then we'll go between to the Weyr.  Between can be downright terrifying for first-timers.  Count to ten, very slowly, and we'll be there before you finish.  Just remember, you're on a dragon, and he won't let you fall!"  The huge bronze side-slipped away from the ships and then, with three powerful downstrokes, gained a safe amount of altitude.  T'lon sent the image of the Weyr to him, then warned his passengers they were about to go between before giving Roth the go-ahead.

Alyena soon understood the warnings, and the reason for the winter clothing they'd been told to don.  Total sensory deprivation engulfed her: she couldn't see, hear, smell, taste, feel, or even breathe!  Her arms had been wrapped around Polran, her hands stuck in T'lon's belt, but she could feel neither.  She tried to tighten her hands, but couldn't feel anything!  Then she remembered the rider's instructions to count to ten.  One...two...three...four...five...si--  She didn't realize she'd been shouting the numbers aloud until, as abruptly as it had gone away, the world rematerialized around her, and she heard herself screaming "six" at the top of her lungs.  Polran yelped at the pitch of her voice.  T'lon, to her relief, didn't say anything (although she couldn't see his smirk).

A dragon bugled a greeting somewhere in the darkness, and Roth answered back, causing the two passengers to start when they felt the rumble in his chest.  Alyena couldn't make out much of anything, between the darkness and the tears in her eyes from the wind, but even so, it wasn't as black as between, for which she was grateful.  She was able to see a point of light shining out of the darkness, and they were heading straight for it.  Suddenly, she was able to make out the ground coming up at them at an alarming rapid rate, and she tensed.  Just when she thought for sure they were going to collide with the ground and she was about to screech a warning, she felt the dragon's muscles tighten and stretch and they slowed quickly, though not so sharply as to cause Polran to be squashed between T'lon and Alyena.

Alyena finally figured out that the light she was seeing was coming out of a tunnel...in a cliff face!  She tried to remind herself that no self-respecting dragon would fly headlong into a cliff, but it was AWFULLY close, and she tried to shout something to T'lon, but the wind of their passage shoved the words back down her throat.  Then Roth's wings flared and they practically came to a stop.  A couple of thuds and they were safely on the ground again, just yards from the tunnel entrance.  Alyena couldn't believe that they could get that close without the great beast's wings hitting the walls, but there they were.

T'lon turned to her with a grin.  "How's that for your first dragon flight?" he asked the pair.  Alyena answered with a shaky laugh.  Only then did he and Alyena realize that Polran had lost consciousness again.  "Here, let's get him down.  TIKAL!" the bronzerider bellowed toward the tunnel.

"Already here, T'lon.  Must you wake the entire Weyr?  What have you got?" came a gruff older voice from somewhere below them.

"I think the earlier stir already did that," the rider retorted as he gestured for Alyena to undo the buckles holding the boy in his seat.  "Young fellow took a hard blow to the head from one of the pirates.  I'm no healer, of course, but I suspect he's got a concussion at least.  Name's Pol...Pol...Pol-something."

"Polran," Alyena supplied, worry clear in her tone.  "He was trying to protect me."

"Pirates?  That surprises me.  Piracy's never been ver--" a pause and a grunt as T'lon lowered Polran carefully off the side of Roth's neck and the healers caught him.  "--y popular on Pern.  Was anyone else hurt?"

Alyena eyed the drop off the side of the bronze's neck.  It was a long way down, and she felt suddenly vulnerable, with her crippled right arm.  She squeaked as Roth turned his head to look at what was going on and, seeing that the Healer and his patient were out of the way, shifted to crook his leg underneath.  Suddenly, it wasn't quite so far a descent to the ground.  T'lon swung his leg over and slipped off his perch, landing confidently on the ledge formed by his dragon's forearm.  Turning back toward his other passenger, who was aware she was being scrutinized by the dragon as well as the rider, he indicated she should do the same.  Caution slowed her movements.  The bronzerider caught her by the armpits as she slid down the dragon's neck and made sure she got her footing on the gently curved surface of Roth's leg before he jumped the last few feet to the ground.  Again, he waited for her.  Feeling a bit more confident this time, she jumped - and stumbled on her landing; only T'lon's quick reflexes kept her from falling on her face, but in doing so, he caught her elbow and sent shooting pains up her arm, and she gasped and tried to pull away.

Everyone in earshot - including the dragon - reacted to that sound.  T'lon swiftly released his grip on her arm.  Roth rose up on his haunches and curled his neck around, bringing his huge head next to his rider, yellow-green eyes whirling rapidly.  The Healer T'lon had been speaking with appeared at her side.  "Guess that answers my question," the man said dryly.

Alyena tucked her arm in close and rubbed it with her good hand, shaking her head.  "No, it's an old injury.  It's not T'lon's fault."  She couldn't help but smile at Roth and hesitantly reached out to rub his forehead, between his eyes.  "Although, it was because of dragons that I got it!"  Her voice shook a little, remembering how she had daydreamed about dragons as a child, and now here she was, touching one.  T'lon just looked confused, but Roth's eyes slowed and darkened to a forest green, and he rumbled contentedly as his posture relaxed back into a crouch.

"Well, I want to look at it anyway.  Don't want it to get aggravated by all of tonight's excitement!"  Alyena protested that she was fine, but the Master Healer wouldn't have any of it.  Other healers had already taken Polran inside, and Tikal gently, but firmly, steered her to follow.

"I'll check on you later," T'lon called after them before he re-mounted Roth and the pair surged into the air, disappearing moments later.

Alyena let the Healer steer her into an unoccupied room.  It had been cool outside, though not as cold as on the ship's deck, but it was pleasantly warm inside.  Tikal helped her remove the heavy winter gear.  She tried to hide the wince as she took off the coat and then the sweater.  The old man caught her hand and lifted it above her waist.  The parallel scars across the back of her hand gleamed in the electric lamplight, glaringly obvious against unblemished skin that was dark red from the chill.  Delicately, his hand pushed the cuff of her sleeve up, revealing the twisted and puckered skin between the scars as the coiled to the underside of her arm.  "How far up do this go?" he asked with a frown, not looking at her face, but turning her hand over carefully.

Alyena cleared her throat and tensed as he started to roll her hand over.  "Just past the elbow," she replied.

Sensing the resistance, he stopped trying to roll her hand over and instead slid his hand along, using his sense of touch instead of sight to further examine the injury.  His gaze roved to her face.

"I was raised in Benden Hold.  Some of the older children started tormenting me because I liked to daydream about the Weyr.  One of them whipped me with a belt," she answered his unspoken question.  She couldn't meet his eyes for long, and looked away to inspect the room they were in.

"You're right-handed?" he asked.  She nodded.  Having completed his inspection of the scars themselves, he returned his stare to her arm, wrapping his fingers around it and pinching/squeezing firmly.  She inhaled sharply when he reached her elbow and his thumb found a particularly tender nerve.  He scowled.  "Didn't you have any Healers around to take care of this?"

She pulled her arm away, shaking her head.  "My parents couldn't afford one."

Tikal gaped at her.  "Affor--?  What do you mean, 'afford one'?!"  Alyena shot him a confused look and stammered, trying to understand the Healer's outrage.  "Do you mean that people today have to pay for a Healer's services?!"

"Of course!  Their time and skills are valuable, too..." she trailed off uncertainly, watching the play of emotions on the normally-controlled man's face.

After a moment, Tikal took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  "Barbarians," he muttered, shaking his head.  Someone outside the room shouted his name.  "I'll send someone in here in a moment who can take you to somewhere to sleep for the night.  I want to see you first thing tomorrow morning, before you eat breakfast.  Wear a short-sleeved shirt so I can get a good look at that scar, and we'll see what we can do about it.  We won't be able to reverse all the damage, but we should be able to reduce the pain and increase your range of motion."  He turned and hurried out of the room.

A few minutes later, an older woman, maybe about H'lee's age, swept in.  "You're Alyena?  H'lee's said a lot about you.  I'm Lery, the Headwoman of the Weyr.  Come along and we'll get you settled in the barracks with the others."  A drudge scuttled in and scooped up Alyena's belongings.

"I can--" she started to protest her things being collected.

"Until Tikal says you're fit, you're not to go about lifting and carrying things," Lery overrode her objection.  Alyena bristled a bit; after all, she'd been taking care of things for eight years with her arm the way it was!  But the Headwoman and the drudge had already started off down the hallway, and she had to hurry to catch up, so she didn't see Lery's approving smile.

Alyena was thoroughly lost in the fifteen minutes it took to get to their destination.  As they approached a room that was clearly still undergoing some construction, the Headwoman gestured to her to walk softly.  The reason was apparent when the narrow beam of a glow-lantern - glows! when they had electric lights? - flickered over several cots, revealing a number of sleeping occupants.  The drudge carefully deposited Alyena's belongings at the foot of an empty cot.  Lery stepped close and murmured, "Get some sleep, girl.  You can choose a different bunk in the morning if you like.  Most anyone here can help you find your way back to the Infirmary in the morning.  We'll get you settled in in no time."  She patted Alyena's good shoulder, and took the glow-lantern with her on her way back out.  There was just enough light coming in from the hallway for Alyena to see that the cot was already made up.  She sat down on it, and the weight of the evening's adventures settled heavily on her.  She stretched out and was soon fast asleep, on a bed that didn't sway.

H'lee had been pacing back and forth across his weyr all day, waiting for nightfall.  There wasn't much for the dragonriders to do at the moment.  They were bagging firestone and utilizing their Crafts and Gifts to help out, but tanning and leatherworking weren't in high demand, and most everyone seemed to think that he should be babysitting the eggs.  He was also the "face" of the Weyr - everyone knew who he was because of Learyam - so he was the one they expected would be doing anything that needed done by dragonriders outside the Weyr.  So here he was, waiting for sunset so he and T'lon could go and collect Alyena and Polran from their ship under the cover of the darkness.

At last, it was time to go.  H'lee mounted up and he and Seeth joined T'lon and Roth in the Weyrbowl.  Together, the dragons took to the air and shortly jumped between.  Navigating to a person came easily for firelizards for some reason, but it wasn't as easy for dragons.  It took a couple of extra seconds in the deep blackness before they arrived...to a scene of utter confusion and chaos.  The ship they were supposed to be meeting wasn't alone.  It was currently tied up tight against a larger vessel, while a smaller craft skimmed over the waves, circling both larger boats.  This wasn't right...  Seeth, I think we need reinforcements...

A few moments later, Silvara and Warrelith appeared to Roth's right.  The small skiff had come around the bow of the galleon and the firestarter on board launched a fireball.  H'lee swore, but before he could order Seeth between to dodge the hazard, the orb fizzled.  The Weyrlingmaster shot a glance toward Silvara, knowing that she had to have stopped it.  He was going to have to remember that; fireballs might make good training tools for the weyrlings, to teach them how to skip between to avoid Thread...but back to the matter at hand!  All three dragons roared angrily at being attacked.

"They've got a psi!  Find him!" someone on the ships shouted.

H'lee snorted.  "Good luck with that," he muttered, trying to figure out how they were going to untangle this mess and get away with their secret intact.  Just then, shouts on the deck of the ship, including a shrill scream, drew his attention.  He located the source just in time to see the big pirate backhand Polran and send him flying across the deck, and grab Alyena roughly.  H'lee was certain this young woman would Impress a gold dragon, and it enraged him to see her being treated like a piece of property.  He was also able to identify Lord Holder Tinas and Lady Holder Yesia now, the latter sprawled on the planks with her husband crouching beside her, holding up a hand defensively.  Before he could do anything, however, Roth took initiative, snatching the pirate away from Alyena and flinging him across the dragonlength's distance to the galleon's main mast.

The humans on board the ships froze, staring incredulously as the pirate's body arced through the air.  The man smashed into the mast hard and fell to the floor and didn't move.  H'lee sensed the arrival of two more dragons and someone shouted his name.  Looking up, he saw B'nin and Risoth, and the former tossed a sack toward him.  Instinct led him to catch the bag of firestone, and Seeth arched his neck to receive some of the phosphine-filled rock.  Warrelith must have conveyed the need.  Risoth and the other new arrival - T'zal and Banelith - started toward the pirates' ships.  Banelith belched forth a gout of flame that embraced the galleon's masts and sails, doing to it what their firestarter had done to the Jonbee.  Chaos erupted among the pirates, some trying to flee back to their ships, others just leaping overboard to avoid the flames.  Risoth flamed the small skiff's sails and the boat coasted to a stop.

The plan had been to hoist the two Candidates up onto a dragon's back in the dead of night, when most of the Jonbee's crew would be belowdecks and asleep, but that was going to be a problem now.  Roth slipped closer to the Jonbee and H'lee winced as T'lon dropped confidently off his dragon's back.  He knew T'lon's straps were solid - he'd made them, after all! - but he also knew that leather could fail at the worst possible time.  T'lon greeted the Lord Holder and checked on Polran.

Roth says to flame the pirate ships and then pick up the Lord and Lady Holder to return to the Weyr.

H'lee frowned and glanced at Silvara, confirming that she had also gotten the message and disagreed.  The two riders shared a glance.  Tell Roth that we're not flaming any ships with people still on board.  That's not right.  Undoubtedly, Silvara was telling Roth something similar, but it was a good idea to reinforce.

Seeth growled irritably.  Roth says, deal with it.  H'lee understood that it was T'lon saying, "Then you two decide how to deal with it," not ordering them to destroy the ships anyway.  So he gave T'lon a thumb's up and sent Seeth gliding toward the larger pirate ship, leaving Silvara to handle the smaller vessel with the firestarter on board.  As they approached the ship, Seeth turned his head to spew flame along its length, sending pirates scattering away from the railing.  There was just enough room on the stern - H'lee thought it was called the "poo deck" or something - for Seeth to land.  The pair were careful, no small concern that the ship wouldn't be able to support their weight, a concern that was clearly mirrored in the face of the captain as he flung himself down the steps to the main deck.

Banelith swung around to the front of the ship, hovering over the bowsprit and placing one claw on the battering ram mounted to the prow.  This stabilized and balanced the ship as Seeth delicately perched on the stern.  H'lee put on his best angry Weyrlingmaster's glare and stared down across the decks at the sailors milling about between the two dragons.  "You have three choices: throw down your weapons and surrender, in which case you'll be transported aboard the Jonbee; jump overboard and see how far you can swim; or go down with your burning ship!"  To emphasize the last option, both dragons released flames at the tips of the masts, causing them to smolder like giant candles.

Most of the pirates surrendered, their weapons clattering to the deck.  The two ships were still in close enough proximity that the sailors on the Jonbee were able to rope them together, and the prisoners jumped down a handful at a time to be bound and put belowdecks.  Several, including the captain of the pirate vessel, stayed behind scooping up weapons.  Seeth hadn't chewed much firestone, so he didn't have anything left, but Banelith had plenty, and those pirates learned first-hand how ineffective steel is against dragon fire.  Screams echoed up from the hold, and H'lee cursed.  He didn't want to dismount, it was such a pain.  But he saw T'zal wave him off and the bronzerider made a more controlled descent to the ship's deck than T'lon had.  H'lee absently nodded approval.

The rider scooped up a shield and a sword from the clutter on the deck.  He looked at Banelith, who rumbled, and snaked his head around to give him a straight shot into the hold in case someone threatened his rider.  T'zal set his armaments aside in order to brace himself and heave the door to the hold open.  An arrow wobbled out, obviously fired ineffectively.  "HOLD!" T'zal shouted to Banelith, who had hunched himself to breathe flame through the open door.  No further arrows emerged, and the bronzerider repeated H'lee's earlier ultimatum.  Three unarmed men came up, holding their arms over their heads.  Wails from below decks indicated that other people remained below.  H'lee couldn't hear the conversation, but he recognized the change in stance as Banelith's rider spat: the others were prisoners, or worse, slaves.  Disgusted, H'lee asked Seeth to rally the rest of the Weyr; they'd take these ones to the Weyr a-dragonback, the Jonbee was going to be overladen as it was.  Fire suddenly washed across the deck, engulfing the three men as T'zal staggered back, a dagger sunk deep into the shield.

The sky around them came alive as two dozen more dragons materialized.  T'zal indicated that he was unhurt and started below.  Soon afterward, mostly-naked, bony caricatures of human beings started stumbling, limping, and even crawling onto the deck; sometimes, some carried another up.  The brownrider wanted to be sick.  His and Seeth's revulsion was mirrored in the countenances of their fellow dragons and riders.  H'lee wasn't sure how they were going to transport them back to the Weyr: they clearly needed the attention of a Healer as soon as possible, but it was going to be difficult to go between with them having no clothes of their own to start with.  Apparently, other riders weren't as uncertain, and one by one, a dozen dragons swooped down to deposit their riders, who started handing out blankets.  Several dragons vanished, only to reappear a short time later laden with bundles of clothing, most notably socks, boots, and gloves.  Two showed up carrying a wagon between them, which they settled on the deck - their riders instructed the malnourished people to climb into the wagon, allowing the pair to transport a dozen people at a time.  H'lee nodded his approval at someone's quick thinking; the pair of dragons came back quickly, with a different wagon.

T'zal ascended to the deck, looking grey and sick.  H'lee couldn't help but wonder what the man had found belowdecks, but then decided he didn't really want to know.  The bronzerider waved the other riders away from the hold door, and he closed it.  He stood there for a long moment, staring blankly across the planks into the dark of night, before turning around and seeing the work his fellow riders were accomplishing.  They rescued 54 slaves that night.  Once the lines were cast free of the Jonbee, Banelith turned the ship about and set it adrift, and several dragons immolated the structure, a smoldering funeral pyre drifting away into the night.  Shortly afterward, the skiff that Silvara had been in charge of clearing followed suit.

Tired and disgusted, H'lee and Seeth glided back to the Jonbee.  The Weyrlingmaster cast down the riding harnesses and straps for the Lord and Lady Holder.  With the help of the ship's captain, they were able to climb to Seeth's back without much trouble, and the brown dragon and his passengers went between to the Weyr.  Risoth and B'nin dropped rope down, making fast to the Jonbee's bowsprit, and started towing the ship.  It would take the better part of a week to tow the crippled vessel to the Weyr, but it would be on open water, well away from the prying eyes of other ships, or so they hoped.

When they arrived at the Weyr, they found the Bowl a bustle of activity as the Weyrfolk helped the previously-imprisoned into the Infirmary for treatment.  His passengers assured them that they were unhurt, just a little shaken, so he swung to the north end.  They landed on the plateau near the Gather Grounds and dismounted, and he led them to the Great Hall.  It was their first opportunity to really see how big a dragon was, and Tinas and Yesia insisted on taking a moment to admire Seeth and bestow some grateful eyeridge scratching.

Moments after they entered the Great Hall, Lery descended on H'lee.  "What, by the heavens, were you thinking?!  I thought you were bringing two teenagers, and instead, you rouse the entire Weyr and bring back almost threescore malnourished..." she trailed off, noticing the bearing of her spouse's guests.

"Lery, these are Lord Holder Tinas and Lady Holder Yesia of Tillek Hold.  M'lord, m'lady, Headwoman Lery of Exile Weyr," H'lee interjected as graciously as he could.  He would have to find a way to tell her that there was another three- or fourscore sailors being towed in; but at least they had a week to prepare for their arrival.

With a parting glare at the brownrider, Lery turned into the cordial hostess and immediately took charge of the tired and slightly overwhelmed holders, whisking them off to the kitchens to get something warm to eat and then to find appropriate guest quarters.  Relieved of that duty, H'lee returned to Seeth, sighing and leaning against his lifelong companion, watching the lights skittering around the far end of the Bowl.  He wondered how Alyena and Polran were faring.  Finally, he mounted Seeth, who drifted on near-silent wings to their weyr, adjacent the Weyrling Barracks.  No one waylaid them as the brown dragon landed and H'lee dropped from his side and removed his riding straps.  Seeth slunk into their weyr where he curled up on his dragon couch and was soon fast asleep.  H'lee considered limping his way to the Infirmary to see how things were faring, but decided he, too, needed his beauty rest and instead retreated to his own bed for the remainder of the night.