Dragonheart

bothered by her necessarily intimate examinations.

Still, Fiona would occasionally in the privacy of her thoughts marvel that she had been examining a grown  man until she firmly told herself to get over it — these were people, with feelings and pride, people who had risked their lives and their beloved dragons protecting others; she would see them only as such.

“Let me get those cleaned up and bandaged and you’ll be good for the day,” she told N’jian cheerfully.

“I’m sorry to be such a burden — ”

“You flew Thread, you’re not  a burden,” Fiona said brusquely, cutting him off. “You get well; you’ll be fighting soon enough.”

N’jian accepted her assurances silently, wincing only when Fiona touched a particularly sore wound.

“If you feel the need, later, you might want to relax in the pool,” she told him when she was done and ready to leave. “Just let someone know and they’ll get the bandages back off.”

Since she had tackled her two most challenging patients first, the rest of the morning got easier once she’d finished with N’jian. Still, she was glad to finally find herself back in the Kitchen Cavern relaxing with a mug of klah  in front of her.

With a contented sigh of her own, Terin sat beside her, helping herself to the pitcher of warm klah  that she’d placed on the table along with a basket full of warm rolls.

“Mmm,” Fiona said as she bit into one of the rolls, “this is excellent.”

The sound of dragonwings caught her attention and she turned toward the entrance, expecting to see a glimpse of the returning dragonriders. But an overwhelming sense of alarm caused her to jump to her feet.

Come quick! T’mar needs you!  Talenth cried.

Warn the weyrlings!  Fiona called back. Have them meet me!

“Terin, come on, something’s wrong with T’mar!” she shouted over her shoulder as she dashed out into the Weyr Bowl.

She arrived just in time to catch T’mar as he slid off Zirenth’s neck.

“T’mar! What happened?” Fiona cried as she knelt over him, shading him from the sun. She felt his forehead to see if he was feverish, but it felt cool. She glanced up in time to see the older weyrlings being helped down from their mounts. Only a few could stand unaided.

“Weak,” T’mar murmured. “Dizzy.” Feebly he moved a hand, attracing Fiona’s attention to the carisak it held. “Go’ the ice.”

Fiona quickly organized parties to carry the riders into the Kitchen Cavern, lying them down on the ground all the while assuring their dragons that they would be okay.

“What happened?” F’jian asked as he directed another pair of boys carrying the last of the older weyrlings into the cavern.

“I don’t know,” Fiona said, still clutching the cold carisak that T’mar had given her. “They went to get ice.”

She looked around and saw that all the weyrlings had carisaks that bulged. “Get a party to put those carisaks in the storeroom,” she instructed F’jian. “Terin knows which one I mean.”

Talenth, who’s on watch?  she asked, hoping that whoever it was was one of the responsible ones she could trust in this emergency.

J’per.

Shards! J’per was worse than any of the youngest weyrlings. No wonder T’mar had left him on watch.

Is he awake?  Fiona asked acerbically, recalling how often J’per had been chided for sleeping on watch.

He is now.  Talenth replied slyly. Fiona didn’t need to ask her queen to elucidate for Talenth expounded, I had Ginoth rustle his wings — that woke him!

Good!  Fiona turned her attention back to T’mar. Was there something about the Snowy Wastes? Could it have frozen them all more than the cold of between ? Or — Fiona shuddered — could it be that some illness lived in the Wastes, something that affected riders this quickly? If T’mar and the older weyrlings died, what would she do?

“T’mar,” Fiona said urgently to the listless rider. Zirenth, what happened?

Tired,  the bronze dragon responded. They all got very tired.

Zirenth seemed unconcerned, which gave Fiona an immense sense of relief. She had Talenth check with the other dragons of the party and found the same thing — the riders had suddenly become overwhelmed with exhaustion, and none of the dragons were overly worried.

“Let’s get them to their weyrs,” Fiona said, rising from her knees. “They need rest; they’ve been pushing themselves too hard.”

F’jian and the other young weyrlings worked hard to move the older riders to their weyrs, relieved to have something to do.

J’per reports dust in the distance,  Talenth relayed when Fiona had finished settling T’mar in his weyr.

Traders?

I’ve sent J’per to find out,  Talenth responded, seeming pleased with her action.

I need to know when they’ll arrive,  Fiona told her.

I’ve told them,  Talenth responded. In a few moments, she added, J’per thinks that they will be here at nightfall. He says that they look like they are camping in the shade.

Very good,  Fiona said. Thank him and have him return to his post.

Distantly she heard the rustle of wings that heralded Ginoth’s return to his watch at the Star Stones. Fiona turned back to the sleeping T’mar for one final check. He was resting easily, so Fiona decided that she could leave him under Zirenth’s care.

Let me know if he wakes,  she told the bronze dragon. Zirenth raised his sleepy head long enough to meet her eyes and nod, then he curled back up into a comfortable sleeping position.

Stifling a yawn of her own and feeling that she’d had too much excitement for one day, Fiona returned to the Kitchen Cavern.

“We have a fair bit of ice now,” Terin reported. “What do you want me to do with it?”

“Use it to cool any of the injured that most need it,” Fiona said. She cocked her head questioningly. “How long will it keep frozen?”

Terin shrugged. “There wasn’t enough to fill the room, so I think it’ll melt faster.”

“Can you put it in pitchers or something so that we can collect the meltwater?”

“There’s a lot of ice for that,” Terin replied.

“I was just thinking that it’d be nice to serve Azeez and Karina some cold  drinks,” Fiona said.

Terin’s eyes widened in appreciation. “I’m sure that the traders would enjoy that.” She grinned. “In fact, I think it’s our duty to see what such cold drinks might be like.”

Fiona shook her head. “Not for me,” she said, “I’m ready for my nap. Maybe later.”

“I suppose a nap’s not a bad idea,” Terin agreed. She made a shooing motion toward Fiona. “You go; I’ll keep an eye on things here.”

As Fiona settled a clean sheet over herself, grateful that the weyrlings had found mattress stuffing before their excursion to the Snowy Wastes, Fiona replayed T’mar’s return in her mind one more time before drifting off to a fitful sleep.

When she woke, hours later, the sun was on the horizon and the day fading away.

Talenth,  she called, as she slipped into her shoes, how is T’mar?

Awake and waiting for you in the cavern,  Talenth replied. I told him