Xhinna took a quick sip and was surprised as fire roared down to her belly. She passed the cup up to R’ney, who took his sip, then coughed, “It’s smooth!” before passing it over to Taria.
“The children—” Taria started to protest.
“Tonight, the Weyr looks after its children,” K’dan called out loudly. “Isn’t that so, Weyrleader?”
“It is,” X’lerin replied with a firm nod and a gesture to J’keran, who was steadily filling up more mugs and passing them around. “And harper, have you a proper song for the occasion?”
“I think I do,” K’dan said, looking mournfully at J’keran, who laughed and said, “Never let it be said Sky Weyr would parch its harper!” He passed a full mug to K’dan, who took a quick gulp, coughed, and looked at the mug with eyes wide, before setting it down carefully beside him and bringing his gitar around to his front.
“Drummer, beat,” he began in a loud, clear voice. He looked around the group waiting with a hand ready for the next chord.
“Piper, blow,” Taria responded in clear rich tones.
“Harper, strike,” K’dan sang out. He eyed the crowd.
“And soldier, go,” R’ney’s tearful voice rang out.
Xhinna felt all eyes on her and she stepped forward and nodded to K’dan. It took her two tries to get the words past her heart-stopped throat:
“Free the flame and sear the grasses.”
And then the entire plateau shook as all the riders sang out:
“Till the dawning Red Star passes.”
Xhinna reached for the next mug and drained it in one gulp. K’dan waited a moment before launching into a rollicking tune that had all of them singing and laughing and stepping together.
After that, Xhinna lost all track of time.
She awoke in a strange place and it took her a long while to realize that it was one of the stone hall rooms, filled with soft mattresses, pillows, quilts, and snoring riders. She tried to move, but a small arm pushed her back.
“You did not—” Xhinna began loudly as she recognized the arm and then, as the protest from her ears registered achingly on her brain, she reduced her voice to a whisper. “You did not spend the night here.”
“Shh,” Jirana told her muzzily, shaking her head in a motion that could either have been negation or irritation.
The young queen rider’s advice was easy to take, as Xhinna’s head told her that whatever K’dan had decided, J’keran’s drink was far, far stronger than any she’d ever tasted.
I’m bringing klah. The voice seemed to speak quietly in her head. Xhinna looked around and then turned as a path of light split the dark of the room and someone entered. Lorana.
Jirana slowly got to her knees and then helped Xhinna up. Together the two of them made their way to Lorana and out into the morning light. Xhinna was just about to drop the curtain back when a hand intercepted it and Jepara, her eyes beaming, joined them.
Lorana led them to another interior room, the Council Room, also thankfully darkened.
Xhinna smelled not only hot klah but warm rolls and fresh butter. Her stomach flipped briefly, but then settled down again, eager for sustenance.
They sat around the table, eating and drinking quietly until Xhinna felt well enough to question Jirana. She did so with a single raised eyebrow and a demanding look.
“I had one sip,” Jirana said defensively. She made a sour face. “Yuck! I don’t know why anyone would drink that stuff.”
“And your mother knows?” Xhinna demanded.
“Lorana does,” Jirana said. “And I’m old enough—”
“You’ve only—”
“I’ve nearly thirteen Turns,” Jirana cut across. “Not that I intend to drink myself silly like J’keran or—” She glanced significantly at Xhinna and then over to Jepara, but said nothing.
“Children drink wine mixed with water just after they’re weaned,” Jepara said on Jirana’s behalf.
“That was not wine,” Xhinna said.
“You’re ignoring the point,” Jirana said, grabbing another roll and applying a very liberal amount of butter before tearing into it. After she swallowed, she said, “I’d permission, I was responsible, and—”
“You appointed yourself my keeper,” Xhinna said.
Jirana, to her surprise, grinned. “Actually, I was in charge of your drink.”
Xhinna’s eyes went wide and she turned to Jepara who tried, quite unsuccessfully, to look innocent. “And you were the shoulder to lean on?”
“I was one of your carcass bearers,” Jepara said, smiling sweetly. She nodded to Jirana. “Her orders were to be certain that your cup was never empty.” The older queen rider smirked in positive delight as she added, “She was quite dutiful.”
“R’ney?”
“K’dan,” Jepara said.
“Taria?”
“Me,” Lorana said.
“A queen or bronze for every member of your wing,” Jepara told her. “Of course, we had to double up some, but it was not as hard as you’d think.”
“And our duties?” Xhinna asked.
“Completed where necessary, or deferred,” Lorana said. She leaned forward. “After all you’ve done, it was only fitting.”
“We won’t be doing this for every fallen rider?”
“I don’t know, it certainly seems like a good idea,” Jepara said, her eyes dancing mischievously.
Xhinna was speechless. Jirana refilled her mug and passed it back to her. “More klah?”
It took the wing the better part of the day to recover from the evening’s revelry, and when they did, their mood was dour.
In summer and spring, the broom trees provided a marvelous shelter and home. In the midst of winter, they were not so accommodating, and only the large wooden walls carefully attached to the many platforms that had been built below the treetops provided the needed shelter. Building the walls and setting them up took time and effort, so winter shelter was necessarily very confining and scarce.
The stone hall on the burnt plateau—Meeyu Plateau—provided relief, but it was actually easier to expand the platforms beneath the broom trees than to carefully construct or expand the fitted stone hall.
“How much longer until we can return?” Alimma asked querulously as the wing gathered at one long table for dinner in the High Kitchen.
“We’ve yet to mark Turn’s end,” R’ney said, “so we’ve got eight months—nearly nine here yet.”
“We’re still so far back in time that Lorana hasn’t yet discovered the cure,” Mirressa added. “We can’t possibly go back until after that at the earliest.”
“That’s when D’gan and Telgar were lost between,” Taria said. She pursed her lips. “Will we hear that again, here?”
“I don’t know,” Xhinna said, making a note to bring it up with K’dan when she could.
“That’s when Lorana lost her queen, isn’t it?” Jirana spoke up unexpectedly beside them. R’ney raised an eyebrow at the young gold rider, but moved down the bench, motioning for her to join them.
“And Seban will lose his blue Serth,” Xhinna added, glancing around for the blue rider and wondering why she hadn’t seen him recently.
“And so many others,” Taria agreed sadly. Her eyes took on a distant look and she grew so quiet that Xhinna shot her a troubled look. Taria noticed it and said apologetically, “It’s just that I remember when D’gan went. His son, D’lin, went for help and … no one ever found him.”
“Was he lost between?” R’ney wondered. The others shrugged. “Wasn’t he found when D’gan was rescued?”