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Darison
“Ho there!” cried Darison as he ran out to tell the rider to have his dragon leave. “What do you think you’re doing, you’ll spook the runners!” The rider hopped off his dragon’s back and the blue took off, heading over the house to land on a ridge rather far away. “Sorry, but I didn’t want to make that trek on foot, figured it wouldn't hurt if Siyeth landed for only a moment,” said the rider, smiling. “Well, I suppose not, but still, if we’d had pregnant mares out here you could have been responsible for quite a catastrophe,” replied Darison, looking the bluerider over suspiciously. They rarely got any visitors up here at Runner Hold, and it was even more rare that they got a visit from a dragonrider. The rider didn’t seem to take note of his suspicious looks though as he grinned and headed past Darison towards the hold. “Am I in time for breakfast? I’m quite famished you know, I left Falas before anyone else was up and I’ve been travelling for a few hours now on an empty stomach!” Darison frowned but followed the young man into the hold, directing him to the dining hall where his father was already eating. The older man looked up as the two walked in, his face lighting up as he saw the knots on the young man’s wherhide jacket. “A Searchrider!” exclaimed Damiar with a smile. “Welcome, sir, to Runner Hold! Will you eat with us?” The rider grinned in return and nodded enthusiastically. “I’d love to, Sir. Thank you for the kind invitation.” The rider then seated himself and Darison took his usual place beside his father. Damiar was all smiles and pleasantness and questions and the two of them talked so much throughout the meal that Darison was done before either of them were half-way through. “Have you any word on my boy?” asked Damiar with a smile. “He’s at the beastcrafthall.” “Haven’t been there recently, no, but I’ll be sure to ask around next time I’m over that way,” came the happy reply. “How’s the runner business? Still strong?” “That it always is, even with you weyrfolk taking half the young people on Pern on Search there are still plenty of youths left over with a desire to race. Keeps us in business up here,” said Darison’s father with a wink and a smile at the dragonrider. Darison tried to tune them out but there was one part of the conversation he couldn’t help but overhear. Damiar asked the Searchrider about the happenings at the Weyr and the young man, P’mir was his name, replied that there was a gold’s clutch on the sands. “Gold Frelarnith and Bronze Qualith laid a clutch of fourteen eggs. That’s why I had to leave so early this morning. We’ve been on Search for a couple weeks now but pickings must be a little slim this time around. We found several females for the queen right off the bat but now we’re still in search of females for the greens and males for the bronzes, browns and blues. Can’t seem to find many so far. But they’ll pop up sooner or later, even if we have to head to the other Weyrs for them.” Darison became very thoughtful on this note, thinking that perhaps the Weyr was the place for him. If he Impressed a bronze he could end up as a wingleader, that would give him the control of his destiny that he so craved. But he shook his head, if the Searchdragon had wanted him no doubt P’mir would have said something by now. He contented himself with listening in a detached manner to the rest of the conversation. Apparently Falas wanted to purchase several of their runners and had sent P’mir to complete the deal while he was out on Search. The two men arranged an amount and a delivery date, then the dragonrider departed, hiking up the hill a ways before calling his dragon to him. Darison frowned after them, watching the spot where they vanished between for quite some time until his father’s voice pulled him from his thoughts. “You’ll be able to ride out in a few days to make that delivery for me, won’t you Dar? You know my old bones aren’t up to the trip.” “Of course,” replied Darison distractedly then headed for the stables to get that day’s routine underway. Continue... |