Chap. 8 The Hijacking

Chap. 8 The Hijacking

Lord Dorn called in Anor, his Captain of the Guard.

"Kahrain Steppe Weyr is sending us a young man named Betzil. His father is a small craftholder beholden to us.

This young man was accused of stealing marks from his father and far worse, raping a drudge in his hall, and escaping punishment by posing as a Search candidate. He actually made it to Kahrain Steppe Weyr's Hatching and was on the threshold of impressing a dragonet when his impersonation was revealed."

"Begging your pardon, my Lord, but from what I know of dragons, they probably wouldn't have chosen him."

"Undoubtedly you are right, Anor, but the point is, he attempted it. The Weyr is sending him to us as Betzil, for better or worse, comes under our jurisdiction."

"Aye, my Lord. What shall we do with this beastie?"

"I think beheading will settle his account. I've spoken with the crafter. The drudge who was raped is too frightened to accuse him to his face. Fortunately she did not become pregnant by him. The boy is a foster, by the way, and to judge from what the father told me, not welcome back."

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The Weyrleader called in C'val.

"I'm sorry to task you with this, C'val, but I need a prisoner, named Betzil, taken to Singing Waters Hold for punishment. I have the master at arms holding him for you."

C'val was too disciplined a rider to roll his eyes—at least where one could see his expression. No one liked these sorts of assignments but, it was one's duty.

"Aye, sir. I'll have Rastabenth harnessed in a few moments."

Very shortly thereafter, Rastabenth, with C'val aboard, landed in the bowl of the Weyr. The master at arms had a young man with him.

"This is Betzil, Rider C'val. He is to be taken to Singing Waters Hold and handed over to Lord Dorn's Captain of the Guard."

C'val looked the teen over. There was a subtle sadism in Betzil's eyes, a look he'd hidden successfully before being found out Hatching Day.

"Thank you, sir, and I relieve you of your charge," C'val said, formally. The guard handed him a key to the lock that secured the chains on Betzil's wrists.

There is something wrong with this human,  Rastabenth said, in an unusually grim tone of voice.

He is bad. We need to be careful. If he hurts you in any way, tell me immediately, C'val returned.

 "I can't climb up there with my wrists chained," Betzil whined.

"Oh, that's too bad," the guard said, "Perhaps if I use a spear to boost you up, do you think that would help?"

Betzil grumbled and managed to scramble aboard behind C'val. The guard secured him to the straps.

"Hang on to the straps, as soon as we gain some altitude, we'll be going between," C'val said, and asked Rastabenth to take off.

Betzil flinched at the dragon's leap. Within a few moments, though, they were high above the Weyr. The sea spread out below them, the waves crashing onto the sandy intersection of green steppe and blue sea.

C'val didn't feel Betzil releasing the snaps holding him to the riding straps.

He was visualizing the Singing Water's Hold dragonstones when suddenly, a chain looped over his head and around his throat. Betzil yanked C'val's head backwards.

"Take me to Bitra!" he shouted in C'val's ear, "Or you die!"

RASTA! C'val shouted in his mind.

HANG ON TIGHT, the dragon shouted back.

C'val's vision went black as his hands scrabbled at the chain choking him. 

Rastabenth made a sudden sideways roll to the left and plunged in steep dive. Betzil shouted, yanking on the chain to keep from falling off. Rastabenth rolled violently to the right, one of his wings giving Betzil a tremendous blow to the head. He threw his hands up instinctively, releasing C'val. He grabbed at the rider but the chains prevented him from grasping C'val, who, having ridden the blue's moves countless times while fighting Thread, had fallen forward to cling to the blue's neck.

The blue gave another sudden lateral lunge, throwing Betzil from his back. Dangling from the straps, he was buffeted by the wind. He screamed in terror.

Rastabenth leveled off at the surface of the sea, flying at a tremendous speed.  Deftly using the surface effect of the ocean waves to keep himself aloft, he tipped just enough to the side so that Betzil was dragged through the leaping, hungry waves.

The sky erupted with roaring, riderless dragons. They flew to surround Rastabenth, but only the greens could keep pace with the racing blue.

Betzil's hands were ripped from the straps and he plunged into the sea.

Rastabenth, flapping mightily, gained altitude and flew to the beach. C'val was coughing and gagging. 

Dragon riders were in a frenzy, none having any idea what the shard happened until their dragons told them. No one could remember a mass lift of dragons without orders. If it hadn't been for telepathy, the cacophony of riders and dragons would have been deafening. As it was, the dragons were still roaring, the dragonets were upset that they didn't get to help, every human who could was hurrying to the beach, shouting in confusion, and the angry queen had to be physically calmed by the Weyrwoman.

People rushed to help C'val off the blue.

He was bombarded with dozens of voices asking if he was alright.

"I think so," he said, shaking from adrenaline and wondering if his throat would work right. It did, but he'd be sore for a while.

Rastabenth, eyes blood red, snaked his head back and forth, hissing.

He tried to kill you. He tried to kill you!

Which set the dragons roaring again.

Finally the Weyrleader and his bronze told everyone to calm down. The harpers began playing a raucous drinking tune, just to settle things (and already creating the lyrics to what promised to be a really great story).

 "That was one shard of a ride, C'val, and Rastabenth, what a great dragon you are," he said.

C'val's heart swelled at the actions his lovely, his devoted, his best friend had taken.

You are the most courageous, the best dragon ever. You saved my life, he said, caressing the dragon's head. The dragon's eyes began to slow their whirling and gradually began to change color. 

"Can anyone see that piece of wherry dung?" asked someone, eyes searching the rough sea for Betzil.

"Who cares. Let him drown."

"He probably won't, y'know. The dolphins will save him."

"Can we ask the dolphineers to tell their dolphins to let him drown?"

"We might have to," someone said, "Dung floats."