Chap. 53 The mating flight

chap. 53  The mating flight

The Weyr was out, fighting Threadfall. K'ndar had been left behind, performing watch dragon duty.

Only to himself…and Raventh, did he admit that he was happy to avoid Threadfall. He'd never shirk his part in flaming it, but he feared it. He would always fear it. He couldn't wait until it never fell again. He wasn't sure what it would mean for dragon folk, but he didn't care. It had to be better than threadfall.

Seated aboard Raventh, he scanned the surroundings with binoculars, an Aivas innovation. They certainly made for easier scanning. He could see nothing out of the ordinary. No sea raiders, no storm clouds building up, no….wait.

There was a gold dragon, chasing down a steer. He looked again. It was Jianath, Oldtimer Jenmay's ancient gold dragon. 

It had to be. It could only be Jianath. Every other able dragon was out in the farthest sector of their territory, fighting a Thread fall. And Jianath was the only gold in the weyr. The junior golds were out fighting, and Elenath…Elenath was dead.

Jianath? Okay, but..this didn't look like typical hunting behavior.

What is she doing?

She is blooding a kill. She is going to rise to mate.

NO

Yes. She is fighting Jenmay. She wants to gorge and Jenmay says no. She is going to rise to mate.

NO!

Yes. I…I want to go. 

No. We are on duty, we are too young, and we don't want anything to do with Jenmay. 

She is sucking the beast dry. She is going to rise to mate.

Jenmay is KEEPING her from gorging? he thought, still unbelieving his eyes.

Yes. She wants Jianath to rise to mate. 

This is insane. There is no bronze. How can she rise to mate when there's no bronze

There is Menkarth, Raventh said, interrupting his thoughts.

He rouses. He is awake.

K'ndar was thunderstruck. He'd forgotten about the other Oldtimer, N'orald's bronze, Menkarth.

He's 65! He's so old I can't believe he can…. K'ndar said, thinking. Menkarth, was indeed, the sole bronze dragon left at the weyr at the moment. The only other male dragons still in the weyr were a pair of blues in sickbay, a brown that would never fly again, and Raventh,  the one yearling, who was right now, feeling the pressures of hormones that were confusing him.

Just then, Jianath leaped from the drained steer. Jenmay had ruled her, and now the queen was beating her way laboriously skyward. 

Menkarth has taken wing. He is going to try.

K'ndar reflected that his dragon, a brown, could easily have caught her, but Raventh was still sexually immature. That thought frightened him, not for Raventh but for himself. He could only imagine the turmoil his brown mating with a queen would have caused in the weyr. He had no desire to be a Weyrleader. He would never desert his post. Most especially, he wanted nothing whatsoever to do with Jenmay. 

He wondered what the wings were thinking right now.

I just told Corvuth. The Wings have just been told. They are in the middle of fighting Thread and cannot return.

K'ndar watched, hardly believing his eyes. Menkarth, yellowed with age and thin as a rail, slowly flew after the gold. Jianath was equally slow, not trying to avoid the bronze so much as trying to stay airborne. It was, as other weyr residents related later, the slowest and most lackadaisical mating flight they'd ever seen. It appeared that both dragons were mating solely due to hormonal influence rather than passion.

But mate they did, and returned, sated, to the weyr. Menkarth's rider, N'orald, hadn't attended. He was, as he related later, sound asleep. Nor had he any interest in having anything to do with Jenmay, dragon inspired lust notwithstanding. His official excuse was that, being blind, he couldn't find his way to Jenmay's weyr. But in private, he swore, "I'd have drowned meself afore I'd touch her."  

And now she is Weyrwoman, K'ndar reflected, looking down from his ridge line duty station to see the elderly woman standing on the ledge of their third level weyr, greeting her incoming gold. Menkarth landed in the bowl and walked to his weyr. They'd been barracked in a ground floor weyr so that neither rider nor dragon had to climb up or fly up to the higher level weyrs. His wingtips dragging on the ground, it was plain he was exhausted. 

 Jenmay. Oldtimer Jenmay, Weyrwoman. N'orald, so old he forgot he was in Southern, Weyrleader. 

And D'nis, still deep in mourning for Danelle, and worried about the problems the lack of a Weyrwoman was causing, suddenly demoted. 

It was not going to be pretty. No. Not with Jenmay as Weyrwoman.