Dragonheart

“Including queens,” T’mar reminded her, raising a finger scoldingly. “Next time, let me fall if you must. The thought of you losing your neck to my stupidity . . .”

“Fresh klah,  who wants it?” Xhinna interjected into the charged silence that fell as T’mar’s words trailed off.

Fiona nodded curtly, her eyes fixed on T’mar. Was he just —

“Are you just worried about my queen?” The words were out of her mouth before she realized it. Beside her, she could feel Xhinna tense up in surprise. Fiona hid her shock by giving T’mar a demanding look.

T’mar took his time answering, first sipping from his klah  and setting his mug carefully back down on the table before meeting her eyes. “As a dragonrider and a wingleader, it is my duty to worry about both rider and dragon.”

“So this is just about my dragon,” Fiona snapped.

“Fiona!” Xhinna cried.

“I nearly get killed for you and all you care about is my dragon!” Fiona continued, jumping to her feet and stepping back from the table. “Well, you can save yourself the next time!”

And with that she stalked off, leaving an astonished Xhinna and an open-mouthed T’mar behind her.

Are you all right?  Talenth asked worriedly.

Yes,  Fiona told her brusquely. No,  she amended a moment later. I don’t know.

What can I do to help?  Talenth asked.

Why hadn’t the others asked that? Fiona moaned to herself. She was trying so hard and never got any acknowledgment, she was so . . . She stopped in her tracks, feeling small and numb.

“I was stupid,” she murmured, needing to admit it out loud. With a deep sigh, she turned around and walked back to T’mar’s quarters. To Talenth, she said, Thank you, you help just by being with me.

I love you, too,  Talenth replied. Fiona got the sense that her queen was tired, had been aroused by Fiona’s emotions, and was now thinking of sleep once more.

I’ll be down to oil you soon,  Fiona promised.

I don’t think I need it,  Talenth responded drowsily.

Get some rest, then, sleepyhead!

She heard quiet conversation coming from T’mar’s weyr as she approached. It stopped when she was close enough that her footsteps had probably become audible inside.

Fiona forced herself to enter. “T’mar, I’m sorry, I behaved badly.”

“We’re all under a lot of stress, Weyrwoman,” T’mar replied calmly. He lifted a hand and opened it in a throwing-away gesture. “It’s forgotten. Come sit back down with us.”

Still feeling ashamed and somewhat shocked by her actions, Fiona sat back down. There was a long moment of silence, which she found pleasant, while they drank their klah  and chewed on the rolls that had been sent up from the kitchen.

“Xhinna was telling me about our Benden visitors,” T’mar mentioned at last.

“Lorana and B’nik,” Xhinna said. “They came here with Kindan — ”

“Kindan was here?” Fiona asked, surprised and disappointed. If he’d been there, why hadn’t he come to see her?

Xhinna shook her head. “They dropped him off at the Harper Hall first.”

“Did they find anything in the Records?” T’mar asked.

“Yes, they found a reference to a special place built at Benden Weyr.”

“Why Benden?” Fiona asked.

“It was Weyrleader M’hall of Benden who convinced them to build the rooms,” Xhinna said with a shrug.

“You’re guessing,” Fiona said.

“It happened over four hundred Turns ago,” Xhinna replied. “Of course I’m guessing.”

“It seems a good guess,” T’mar observed. “M’hall was the eldest son of Sean and Sorka, and the first to establish a new Weyr.”

“So?”

“So he was the senior Weyrleader, after the death of Sean, and people would have looked to him for leadership,” T’mar replied. He shrugged. “I’m sure we’ll learn more when they find the special place.”

“They’d better be quick about it,” Xhinna said, “if Lorana’s queen, Arith, has got the illness.”

There was an awkward, thoughtful silence.

“How much time does she have?” Fiona wondered out loud.

“We don’t know,” T’mar replied. He made a face. “You’ve talked with Kentai and Tajen and the others, you know as much as I do.” He shrugged. “Maybe three sevendays, maybe less.”

“Fiona said that if Talenth went between  she’d go with her,” Xhinna remarked.

“Yes,” T’mar responded slowly, “I can understand that.”

“I’m going with her if she does,” Xhinna added stoutly.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to make such a promise,” T’mar warned her. Xhinna gave him a stubborn look and he went on. “No one ever says words with the thought that they might one day have to eat them.”

“I won’t!”

“You wouldn’t be the first,” T’mar observed mildly. “I’ve had to eat my own words countless times; that’s why I give you such advice.”

“How did they taste?” Fiona asked, surprised to find her humor returning.

“Awful,” T’mar replied with a grimace. “But I was always glad after I’d eaten them.”

“ ‘Be careful what you wish for, you might get it,’ ” Fiona repeated the old saying.

“Exactly.”

“I’m not wishing for it,” Xhinna protested irritably. “I just want to have plans.”

“Why not plan for good things?” T’mar suggested.

“Like what?” Fiona challenged.

“Like when your Talenth can fly and take you between, ” T’mar suggested.

“What’s that got to do with me?” Xhinna asked. After a moment, she turned excitedly to Fiona, “Would you take me with you?”

“Of course,” Fiona promised. “We can go everywhere together.” “Not flying Thread,” T’mar said.

“But we haven’t enough queens for a queen’s wing,” Xhinna said.

“Yet,” Fiona told her with a grin.

“Are you planning on repopulating the Weyr with queens so soon?” Xhinna asked mockingly. She dropped her eyes into her lap as she realized the full import of what she’d said.

Fiona remembered the times she had gone with her father to the stud sheds to watching the bulls breed. Somewhere in her future there were mating flights, many mating flights. A thrill, a sense of dread and excitement both, churned her stomach.

“That’s for Turns not yet come,” T’mar chided Xhinna gently. “ ‘Don’t count your eggs before they’ve hatched.’ ”

“Dragon eggs,” Xhinna said with a snigger and a mischievous glance toward Fiona.

Fiona turned her attention to T’mar, asking, “What’s it like, a mating flight?”

T’mar smiled and shook his head. “That’s not for Turns to come yet,” he said again. “But it’s marvelous and you’ll be brilliant, I’m sure of it.”

“Just don’t let her gorge,” Xhinna said warningly.

Fiona looked at her inquiringly.

“Your queen, don’t let her gorge when she rises or the clutch will be too small.” Xhinna felt the intensity of the looks the other two were giving her and explained, “I heard it from the other weyrfolk.”

T’mar smiled. “They’re right, of course. They’ve seen enough mating flights to know.”

“What about you?” Xhinna pressed.

T’mar shook his head. “I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind,” he said. “It’s personal.”

“Well, I  remember the last mating flight and I felt this amazing feeling,” Xhinna