Chap. 1 The Herd Bull

 “For shard’s sakes, Hanliss, put him down. He’s suffering.”

Still on his knees, Kandar stroked the mired and blinded bull’s head. He’d scooped mud over the bull’s back, trying to stop the pain. It had been badly scored by Thread. What remained of his exposed body made it plain there would be no saving the beast.

His heart broke. The bull was by far the best ever bred on their small cothold. Kandar’s lasso around the base of the horns attested to the fact that he’d almost managed to save him. 

“Poor beast. Smart enough to try to submerge himself to escape Thread. Just chose too shallow a pond,” Fland, Kandar’s uncle and ground crew leader, said mournfully. 

“What were you doing, boy? Taking a nap?” Hanliss shouted.

“No, Dad, he bolted and I got my rope on him. When he hit the end of the rope, my girth broke and he ran right through the border!”   Kandar said, resenting the accusation. The saddle horn had proven stronger than the dry rotted girth. “I barely missed being scored.”

He didn’t say that the bull was able to escape because the pasture fences were made of withy reeds, not stone, not even wood. He’d asked for a new girth months before, only to be clouted.  Everyone knew how miserly Hanliss was.

“So you chased the bull right into Thread fall.” 

 “That’s not how it was,” Kandar said, softly. But it was useless, arguing with Hanliss. May as well argue with a rock.

“If we’d had a few more hands, we’d have been able to hit this stuff,” Fland said.

“You and your ‘more hands’ noise! I’m not hiring another man.  You should have known Fall was coming. And I don’t want to hear any more about your bad leg. You’re as lazy as he is,” Hanliss snapped.

Still smarting from the undeserved accusation, Kandar murmured gently to the bull. It had been moaning when they found it, but when it heard his voice, it had quieted, knowing and trusting him.

Fland hid his anger by wiping the sweat from his forehead. Trying to protect Kandar, he said, “It was just that one clump! We all had to do some fast moves to take cover. Sometimes you just can’t call these things.”

Unmollified, Hanliss growled, “Might as well get on with it." He unsheathed his knife and with a quick motion, put the agonized bull out of its misery.

“He’s too deep in the mud to salvage what meat hasn’t been scored,” Hanliss snapped. 

“This is your fault, boy. You haven’t the brains of a tunnel snake.” 

Fland cast Kandar a sympathetic look. He and Hanliss mounted their horses. “Coming?” Hanliss said, seething.

“I’ll be back in a while. I’ve got to find my saddle.” In reality, Kandar just wanted to mourn the bull’s death in private.  

“You’d better, otherwise you’ll be riding bareback. Don’t be too long. You have the rest of the herd to feed.”

Just then, a blue dragon rider hailed them from above. Fland signaled to a spot where the dragon had room to land. The rider approached them, brushing charred Thread dust off his jacket. 

“Rider C’val and Rastabenth. How’s the rider?”

“Which rider?” 

“I saw a rider on a grey horse rope a bull, then come off, saddle and all. Horse and man both went down, and the bull ran off into the swamp. I think it got scored.’

Hanliss scowled. A witness was the last thing he’d expected. 

Kandar stood up, relieved that his account was validated. “That was me.” 

C’val whistled in appreciation. “And you can still walk!”

Kandar nodded mutely.

“I’m amazed neither of you broke anything. I couldn’t have fallen like that and been able to walk later.”

“I’m okay,” he lied, “But we lost a good bull to Thread.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

Kandar gulped. He hadn’t noticed how he felt until just that moment, caught up as he had been in soothing the dying bull. It HAD been a hard fall, but both he and his horse had regained their feet. His horse, though, was muddy, banged up and probably lame. They were both going to hurt later tonight.

Hanliss grumbled, “If he’d been paying attention, none of this would have happened.”

If I’d had good tack and solid fences, it wouldn’t have happened, Kandar thought, but held his tongue. Hanliss was quick to punish any insubordination-with his fists. 

“Thank you for flaming Thread. It could have been much worse,” Fland said to C’val.

 “He doesn’t deserve thanks, Fland. Dragonriders are supposed to flame it before it ever hits the ground.”  They rode off.

“Who was THAT?” C’val asked, frowning.

“My father.” Kandar said. His scornful tone made an explanation unnecessary. 

 Kandar absently stroked the dead bull’s head, as he’d done so many times before. Thinking of the pain the bull had endured made his chest ache. He’d been such a sweet natured beast. The blue rider bent down to touch one of the long, sweeping horns.  

 “My boot, what a loss. He’s a lovely beast,” C'val said.

Kandar fought to keep from sobbing. Wouldn’t do to let a dragon rider see him cry. But the tears suddenly flooded his eyes.

“It’s okay, lad. There’s no shame in tears for a noble bull such as this.”

Kandar shook his head in grief. “I raised him from a calf. Taught him to be handled so easily my baby sister could manage him. He was a good bull, gentle with his cows and not a bit of mean in him. Not like some I’ve seen.” He snuffled.

“The dragons didn’t spook him, did they?”

“No, sir.  He didn’t understand Thread.  He’d never been caught out in it. He didn’t fear anything. And I’ve trained all our livestock to be comfortable around dragons. You see my horse? He’s not afraid of your dragon.”

C’val touched the rope, marveling. “I was amazed to see you rope that bull when you were both flat out at a gallop. Those horns must be a five feet across! I don’t know how you do it.”

Kandar dropped his eyes. Seldom had anyone ever complimented him.

“Just practice,” he mumbled. 

Rastabenth’s head flew up. A flock of wherries, scenting a dead animal to scavenge, flew in low and then scattered at the sight of the dragon. They settled a safe distance from the men, waiting for the humans and dragon to leave.

“Doesn’t take them long, does it?”  The blue rider said. Rastabenth watched them intently. 

They smell the dead beast.  I need a bath.  I’m hungry. Can I chase them?

No. They’ll be expecting us at the Weyr. We’ll be home in a little while, then you can eat and I’ll give you a good bath. Wingleader said we did well today.

“Who are you?” he asked the teen.

 “Kandar, sir. I live at that small cothold about three kilometers from here.” 

“You needn’t call me ‘sir’. I’m not that much older than you.”

“I can’t help it. I respect everything you do."

He looked at Rastabenth. “He’s a lovely dragon.” He saw Rastabenth’s intense concentration on the wherries. The dragon’s skin twitched and rippled in the sunlight, flashing a brilliant blue even through Thread dust. 

C’val smiled. “Thank you," he said, tearing his eyes from his dragon.

“You said you’ve trained your animals to not fear dragons. How do you do that?”

Kandar grinned.  “Most people don’t know that cattle and horses can be imprinted, similar to impressing a dragon, I imagine. It’s not a mind thing, not like dragonriders can talk to their dragons. If you handle a foal or a calf from birth, you can teach it that things we do later aren’t harmful, like haltering, or bridling, or putting something on its back. This way, later on, if you need to separate a cow from her bull, if they’ve both been trained to know that she is still safe and he knows you will bring her back, he doesn’t get possessive or dangerous. It’s easy, it just takes time and patience. 

We have a lot of wild whers here. I'll find a pile of their dung, and bring it back to the barns. I let the calves and foals, with their mums, get used to the scent.  I'll pet them, feed them treats, let them sniff and get used to the smell. They don’t know it’s from a flying dragon, they just know it’s another animal in their world.”

He realized that no one, ever, had asked him how he managed to train cattle and horses. 

C’val liked Kandar. They were fairly close in age, and he’d been Hold bred, too.

“That’s a great idea. I wish our Master Herder had done something like that.  I remember riding a horse who spooked when she saw a dragon. Bucked me off and bolted, and I had to walk home!”

Kandar nodded in rueful appreciation. Anyone who said they’d never fallen off a horse was lying. 

 “By the way, can you ‘hear’ dragons?” C'val asked, suddenly aware that Kandar was of age to be Searched. 

“No, si..no. At least, one has never spoken to me. I just watch what they do to know how they feel. It’s easy. It’s just body language. For instance, I’ve never been this close to a dragon but, begging your pardon, I think Rastabenth is hungry and he itches.”

C’val’s face registered his surprise.

“You’re right! He is!” He looked up at the sun for the time. “I have to go now. Do you want a ride back to your hold? On Rastabenth?”

The look in Kandar’s eyes said he would very much like a ride on a dragon, any dragon. 

“I’ve always wanted to ride a dragon. But I can’t, not now.  I need to head home. I have to walk my horse, he’s in no shape to be ridden."

“Neither are you. You’re bleeding.”

Surprised, Kandar realized he was. C’val dug around in his riding jacket and handed the teen a small jar of numbweed. “This should keep yours and your horse’s injuries numb until you get to your healer. And I’ll stop at your cothold and tell your Holder and Master herder that you’re going to be late, and why.”

“Thank you, but it’s just my family and some hands. I’d appreciate it if you’d tell my Mum why I didn’t come in with Dad and Fland.  She’s our healer,” he said, gratefully.

C’val mounted Rastabenth and they took off. Hovering, he looked down on the forlorn teen now checking his horse. 

The horse was not afraid of me! The horse loves him.

He said you are hungry and itchy. Did you tell him that?

No. I don’t talk to any human but you.

He reminds me of me before I Impressed. I think he could be a dragon rider.

If he knew I want to eat and bathe, I should think so!  But I am not sure.  We’ve never Searched. We should let the Weyrleader know.

Kandar watched until them until they flew out of sight.

Fury and envy conflicted in his mind. He’d never met a dragon rider before. He saw, in a flash, that his life on the cothold would forever be one of unappreciated labor and constant criticism. As long as his father lived, he’d always be Kandar the Scapegoat. He’d never have a future. He’d never take over the hold as Mardriss, his eldest brother, had already been invested. He didn’t want to be a Holder.  He’d end up just like Fland, Hanliss’s brother, beholden to a tyrant who abused everyone. 

 Meeting C’val was as if a window had opened in a black room, flooding it with sunlight. He knew, now, what he wanted out of life. 

Looking up into the sky, he shouted, “I want to be free to fly! I want to fight Thread! I want to ride dragons!!!!!!!”