Dragon Harper

PROLOGUE

J’lantir’s brows were thick, gathered like thunderclouds as he glowered at his wing riders. He had called them to his quarters and met them in Lolanth’s weyr. The presence of his bronze dragon, eyes whirling menacingly red, left his wing riders in no doubt as to his mood.

“A sevenday!” he bellowed. “You’ve been missing for a whole sevenday.”

He glared at each one in turn, ending with J’trel and his partner, K’nad. J’trel, J’lantir guessed, would say nothing, but K’nad looked both too nervous and too—amused?

Every rider had bags under his eyes as though he had been without sleep for the whole sevenday. Young J’lian was leaning against V’sog, who himself looked only barely able to stand. M’jial and B’zim surreptitiously supported the other two.

L’cal’s frown was severe and directed toward the rest of the wing, but beneath his bushy eyebrows, the eldest rider maintained a stoic silence.

Cavorting and carrying on, no doubt, J’lantir thought sourly. Their dragons looked even worse, pale and exhausted. J’lantir had never heard of dragons becoming exhausted because of their riders’ antics. He narrowed his eyes as he looked more carefully at K’nad. The man had a tan!

“Where were you all this time?” J’lantir growled. K’nad dropped his head, shaking it slowly. J’lantir pursed his lips sourly and peered along the rest of the line of men that comprised his missing wing. “Where were all of you?”

He scanned the line, looking for someone who might answer.

“We were on an important mission,” J’trel said finally. The others looked at him and nodded in relief.

“Very important,” K’nad added with a confirming nod.

“So important that I didn’t know about it?” J’lantir asked in scathing tones.

K’nad gave him a confused look and was about to answer when J’trel nudged him, shaking his head.

“He said he wouldn’t believe us, remember?” J’trel whispered to K’nad in a voice not so quiet that J’lantir didn’t hear him.

K’nad drew strength from his partner’s words and looked J’lantir in the eye. “You said not to tell until the time was right.”

“I said?” J’lantir bellowed back, causing K’nad to wilt once more.

“I don’t recall saying anything of the sort,” J’lantir continued when it was obvious that K’nad had gone back into his shell. “I’ll tell you what I think,” he said to his riders. “I think you’ve all gone off someplace and had far too much to drink and can’t tell yesterday from today.”

Half his riders gave him startled looks as though he’d been reading their minds.

“And so, to sort this out,” he continued, “we’ll be drilling today.”

“Could we do recognition points?” K’nad piped up suddenly. The rest of the wing glanced his way and then murmured in agreement.

J’lantir couldn’t believe it. He could never get his wing to drill on recognition points.

“From all around Pern?” J’trel added. “We’d like that.”

“You would, would you?” J’lantir said sourly. That was exactly what he’d planned to do with his wing to teach them a lesson. Well, several lessons. Drilling in recognition points was tiring, dull work that dragonriders usually preferred to avoid. He was surprised that his riders were so eager for the work and a little suspicious. But, as he had no other plans sufficiently punitive in mind, he could only assent.

“All around Pern, eh?” he repeated. “Just remember that you asked for it.”

“Could we feed the dragons first?” K’nad asked. “They’re very hungry.”

“Hmmm,” J’lantir murmured. The dragons had been fed the day before. Dragons typically ate only once a week. He glanced again at his wing riders and noticed how tired they were. He glared at J’trel, but the blue rider merely shrugged. There was no sense in punishing the dragons for their riders’ lapses, J’lantir decided. “Very well, you can feed your dragons and rest for the remainder of today.”

His riders gave him astonished and grateful looks.

“Tomorrow,” he continued, “before first light, we’ll start drilling on recognition points.”

J’lantir turned and stalked off, already anticipating a grilling from Weyrleader C’rion—wingleaders were not supposed to lose their wings for a sevenday. As it was, he didn’t bother to turn back again when one of his riders murmured, “He said he’d be like this.”

And another answered, “But it was worth it.”