Inhospitable [Chimera]

[Tarra]

The cold of between gave way to the warm scents of an autumn evening, tinged with the moist hints of a nearby water mass and the gentle swirl of wind that came from a dragon's gliding wings and the breeze swirling over the lake. Lenigrath rumbled as he drifted lower over the shimmering surface, flanked by a scarred brown and an elegant pale-hued green who matched his languid, gradual wingbeats with steady ease. Together the trio cast a wide shadow that raced over the lapping wavelets beneath them like the massive form of some ancient sea beast, ready to rear its head at any point from the calm waters. In spite of their apparent unhurriedness however, there was a definable alertness to the way they held their heads and wings, the way they kept their flight at mid-altitude and stayed in a brunch that indicated, if not unity, then caution. They were in a strange place, new territory beyond the scope of their understanding or knowledge; and they were essentially looking for trouble.

R'thar was seething. He had been confined to his weyr the night the goldrider of the Lakeside Wing called, keeping vigil over Lenigrath who had taken a nasty series of wounds during their recent skirmish. By the time he got wind of the happenings and managed to scramble to the ledge the goldrider had already been on the verge of leaving, outraged and angered at her lack of reception. Lenigrath had been too heavily numbed with fellis and numbweed to send a message of any sort, and the young bronzerider could only watch, fuming, as Lakeside's leader departed. For some reason Kes'lan had not deigned or had been unable to meet her. It was a failure he felt keenly; a feeling that he shared with no small number of the rest of the fledgeling Weyr.

Well, what had been done was done, and now all they could hope to do was try to make amends for the damage that had been done. Which was what this particular expedition sought to do: in covertly, and with great risk. There was no telling what the Lakeside Wing riders would do upon discovering them; no counting on their being hospitable where South Run had so abjectly failed at courtesy. R'thar was, in effect, more than a little afraid of the reception they might receive, but it was a risk he was willing to take. The support of an entire tribe of dragonriders, especially one that had already tried to make overtures, was just too great to be passed over lightly. It was support they would sorely need when Thread, or the North, came.

And he was not the only one who had felt that way too. Remuth rumbled slightly as he rose a foot or so above Lenigrath's position, scanning the surrounds for any sign of the Lakeside riders. Yaa'kov already had a javelin loosed and ready if trouble should arise in mid-air. C'cao, his green Opheriath threading air lightly alongside the much larger bronze and brown dragons, had felt their lost opportunity deeply as well. There had been others too, of course, who had risen to the occasion when R'thar had subtly raised the prospect of approaching the Lakeside Wing. But the agreement had finally come down to having a handful make the actual trip to the Lakeside territory. The rest would maintain cover for them at South Run in their absence.

The three dragons all rose in their flight now as they approached the shore of the lake, taking care to leave a wide space between themselves and the ground below. They would be easily visible from this angle of approach, but a good enough height up that evasion into between might still be possible if the Wing proved hostile upon contact. They had no wish to fight; they had come in peace. But until they managed to find the Wing itself (no easy feat as they had no inkling where along the Lake they might even be) and that point had been made, a little precaution was never too much effort made.

[chimera]

Strange dragons approach across the lake!

Kalliope’s head popped up. ‘Strange dragons? Here?’ Kalliope slid her chair away from the computer, alarmed.

Not here. Not yet, anyway. They are looking for something... They don't want to fight but are very wary.

The Goldrider gave hurried instructions to one of the apprentices, then ran out the back stairs up to the top of the bluffs, where Djanath waited. The strange riders had to be a response to Kalliope’s failed attempt to meet the newcomers. She did NOT want them to come here. “Djanath, Ch’gan is still at Lakeside Main, isn’t he?” Kalliope didn’t need to hear the quiet affirmative, she knew he was, it was more thinking out loud than a true question. She debated her options. There were only a few dragons here at present, far less than at the main settlement. And there were probably other small groups of dragons and riders scattered around the lake, equal to the one here. Chances were very slim they would come here, unless they could recognize the presence of a gold. She couldn’t risk it. She clambered aboard Djanath’s back. “Tell Ch’gan what is going on, have him fly out to meet the strangers and lead them to Main, we’ll be there momentarily.”

Ch’gan and Brown Korith flew out over the lake looking for the visitors, while Kalliope transferred to the main encampment. The gold moved to her favorite perch, above the entrance to the main cavern, while Kalliope moved to the edge of the large clearing where the visitors would have no choice but to land. Kalliope heard a rustle of movement behind her, and turned to see her daughter Amari approaching. Amari was 14, and apprenticed to the dragonhealer. Kalliope started to send her away, concerned about the strangers; then changed her mind. Perhaps her presence would reassure them that Lakesiders were peaceful. She gestured the girl closer, giving her a quick hug. “Strangers a-dragonback are coming. I think they are from the newcomers Weyr. Djanath says they are not wanting to fight, but they are nervous and wary . Be ready to move quickly if I tell you.”

Halfway down the length of the lake, Ch’gan found the strangers. Brown Korith did a wide flaring vertical turn while still a fair distance away. No way they could miss that. Then he turned and began to fly at a leisurely pace back down toward the Lakeside Main encampment.

[Tarra]

Not knowing when or how they might locate the Lakesiders, the South Run riders had given themselves a good swarth of afternoon for the search. That was nearly half-gone by now, but they had made good enough progress down the length of the area that Yaa'kov felt reasonably sure they would locate the Wing within the same day. It wasn't the first time the mercenary brownrider had run searches in his time, and he knew enough about them to be a fair judge of their progress in this instance.

His presence here had more to do with his own curiosity than any obligation to South Run: he wanted to know more about the rogue riders of Drake's Lake, who unlike the Montane Wing tended to keep to themselves. A mere request from R'thar - a tentative one as the lad hadn't been sure of the response - had thus been enough to bring Remuth's rider in for the search effort, though the brownrider was really not banking a great deal on the outcome. He was here to provide some measure of security, to hear first-hand what their future dealings with Lakeside might resemble, and perhaps to deal advice as needed to the bronzerider (who was really little more than a boy despite his attempts to be older than he was).

Remuth was the first to spot the Lakeside Rider coming towards them; a quick mental prompt served to alert the rest to the newcomer, who almost on cue described a wide flaring vertical turn that even the dullest dragon would be hard-put to miss. It was clear to all that he wanted them to follow him. Lenigrath made a gradual veering turn in mid-air to follow Ch'gan even as R'thar tapped his mind.

Lenny, tell the rest to stay alert; and try to establish communication with him. Tell him we're from South Run and ask him where he's going.

Lenigrath compiled and Remuth took a higher position in the sky on the bronze's right, serving as rear guard as much as watching for any impending trouble from his vantage point . Opheriath stayed at the bronze's left flank, though she too swung out a little more to get a better view of the surrounds on her side. Lenigrath, focusing ahead, made his attempt to bespeak Korith.

My greetings, I am Lenigrath or R'thar, from South Run Weyr. We come in peace and in search of the Lakeside Wing. May I ask if you are of them and are bringing us to meet them?

[chimera]

I am Korith. Ch’gan, my rider, welcomes you to Lakeside Territory. Our main settlement is ahead a ways. Our Wingleader awaits you there.

Korith flew a steady pace, heading east down the center of the wide lake. Not long after, a wide meadow opened up along the shore of the lake. At the far edge of the meadow, steep rocky cliffs rose up. The highest spire of rock was crowned with a small gold dragon, directly above a large cavern entrance. A small crowd gathered at the base of the cliff, two figures standing out from the group.

Korith has found them. They are from 'South Run Weyr,' the place that we visited. He says, if they have noticed any of the Wing people along the lake, small groups or the ones at the Ancient's place, they make no indication. They are three; a bronze, a brown, and a green. Korith says the bronze is young, doubtful he is the leader of their Weyr.

Kalliope stood, to all outward appearances, patiently. Her mind was not nearly as unconcerned as her stance would indicate, though. Hopefully, the visitors would not see any difference among the many small groups of riders they were passing all around the lake. There were only a few riders at the Ancient’s Hold. No doubt there were more than a few larger groups scattered around the lake. Kalliope had gone to South Run Weyr to learn more about new neighbors, to open negotiations toward trade and friendly relations. She had rudely ignored, made to wait for hours for someone that never showed up. Now, perhaps there were good reasons for that. But they would have to be -very- good reasons. If their Weyrleader sent a young rider rather than come himself, that might not seem to indicate that they were much interested in friendship. But they did not want a fight, either. What DID they want?

Ch’gan appeared, a dark spot above the waters, followed by three more spots. Kalliope moved forward a few steps, motioning Amari to stay where she was. Beyond Amari, back at the edge of the crowd, she saw S’lar, one of the scientists from the Ancient Hold. She narrowed her eyes, guessing why he was here. They had talked endlessly about how they might get genetic samples from dragons outside of the Lakeside gene pool. And while Kalliope debated the wisdom of stealing samples from the visitors, she did recognize how important the information they would gain was to the project. She would not interfere. She wouldn’t go out of her way to help either.

The spots grew steadily closer, until at last, Korith landed a short ways from the Lakeside Wingleader. Ch’gan slid down quickly, and moved to stand beside Kalliope. The visitors had a wide swath of grass to land in, and a ‘welcoming committee’ waiting. Atop the cliff, Djanath bugled; half in welcome, half in challenge.

[Tarra]

My thanks, Korith. We will come with you.

Lenigrath relayed Korith's reply to Remuth and Opheriath; and R'thar, in spite of himself, felt a thrill run down his spine to know they had indeed found the Lakeside Wing after all. In spite of Yaa'kov's assurances he had just began to think they might need a second trip out, and it was good to know that would not be necessary after all. Of course, when Kes'lan found out what they'd done there might yet be another round of confrontations to plan for - but that was some way in the future yet. What mattered now was finding a way to appease the goldrider of the Lakesiders; and that would be a difficult enough thing already, as things stood.

Mine asks that all of Yours advise us at need, as agreed earlier, Lenigrath said, relaying his rider's comments to the brown and the green alongside him, The primary aim is to establish contact and have them agree we are allies, not foes.

Remuth warbled an acknowledgement and Opheriath responded with a light pulse of thought to let the bronze know she had heard, as had her rider. C'cao, watching the dark waters slide past at speed beneath them, wondered again if it might have been entirely wise to make this venture in the first place. It was a necessary step, he agreed, to mending ties with the Wing, and probably better than doing nothing at all and simply waiting for Kes'lan to move. But what they were doing and going to do...well, it would almost certainly split the Weyr further, possibly even get the Weyrleader's permanent ire or result in them being thrown out for good. As if they hadn't enough trouble with the North and their current division by caldera already...

But thinking of it all gave him a headache and made Opheriath fret underneath him, so he closed his mind off to that train of thought and tried to focus on what was ahead of them. He was just a greenrider, after all; and though R'thar and the rest had honoured him greatly by bringing him along for this, he knew well enough that South Run Weyr in general gave him more chances to contribute and serve. He would never have been made a Candidatemaster back at Fort, let alone become a representative of the Weyr on any delegation to another group. There were times he wondered if he had made the right decision in throwing in his lot with the renegades, making himself an enemy of the North. Deep down however, and in spite of his usual preference to err on the side of caution, he knew he would do it all over again if he were given a chance to choose differently. At Fort he might have lived a long but useless life, always relegated to the edges of socety and considered worthless in all aspects but the most basic. Here, he had a chance to really live.

There were few things more a greenrider could ask for, beyond that.

Lenigrath chirped a warning as they came within sight of an expansive field of grass bordered on one edge with the lake's waters and framed at its far end by a series of sharp-rising cliffs. Even at their distance the my could make out a gleam of gold that marked the highest point of the sharp rock twisting toward the sky. R'thar clenched his jaw a moment to see their destination at last, and laid a hand on Lenny's neck to support himself. He and the rest had not failed to note how scattered groups of dragons and riders lingered on the lake's shores at various points on their route in with Korith, however the conclusion so far had been that they were engaged in various hunting or gathering activities for the Wing in general. The bronze's presence curled around him, comforting.

You'll do it, Mine. You always do.

Not always, he thought, then pushed it away with the self-doubt that was nipping at his throat. They were close enough now to see the gathered crowd and the two tiny stick-like figures that stood apart from it. Then Korith had descended and was making his landing, and the gold atop the cliffs was bugling in challenge and greeting. Djanath...that was the name Kaycy had given, when Lenigrath pressed Winzerith for details of the visit. The bronze, following his rider's instructions, banked and described a wide loop over the meadow as he bugled his own response to the queen.

Gold Djanath, I am Lenigrath and Mine is R'thar. With us are Remuth with Yaa'kov and Opheriath with C'cao, he went through the formalities with as much dignity as he could muster, taking courage from his rider's unfailing stance, We ask your leave to land.

It was only after that leave had been given that the bronze began the descent to the meadow, followed by the rest. They landed lightly enough, still in formation with Lenigrath to the fore and the green and brown at his flanks. It was remarkable, R'thar thought drily, how most of the Lakesiders in this area seemed to have turned out to meet them. This was how it should have been for Kalliope on her arrival at South Run too, and the difference in welcome only served to grate on his feelings of that disastrous visit further.

"My respects to you, Lady Kalliope, and gold Djanath" he said, with a low bow that was matched by Yaa'kov and C'cao. They had debated using the traditional salute of a rider to his Weyrleader instead for this moment, but eventually discarded it in favour of a simple bow as the Lakesiders might not understand it. And if they somehow did, it would not be right for the South Run riders to be saluting another group's leaders like they did theirs, at any rate.

"We have come in peace from South Run Weyr, and would like to beg the honour of an audience with you. Please accept this token of our good intentions."

C'cao slipped forward quickly, bearing a fairly large leather satchel that looked, if anything, as if it held a good weight. With practiced ease he came to a halt next the R'thar, awaiting the person from the Lakesiders who would come forward to take it from him.

[chimera]

They came in peace from South Run Weyr, with gifts no less, and yet they did not bear greetings from their leaders, nor apologies from leaders for the ignored visit. Did they expect her to assume that, or were they not an official deputation? That was a troubling thought. Perhaps they, like the three Wings so long ago, were quickly sundering into separate groups? That might explain the lack of response at her visit, if there were arguments about who should take charge at the arrival of a neighboring ‘dignitary.’ Neighbors contending over who would lead would not be a good thing… Kalliope put the thought away for the moment; she didn’t really have enough information to really deduce anything, only vague suspicions.

“Welcome to Lakeside Main.” Kalliope looked to Ch’gan and waved him forward. He took the satchel with a small bow and returned to his weyrmate’s side. “May I introduce my weyrmate, Ch’gan, rider of brown Korith, and my daughter, Amari.” Kalliope gestured toward her family members. “ It would honor us if you would come inside for some refreshment, and we can speak more.”

After a brief pause to allow them to demur, should they so choose, Kalliope turned toward the door and led the way inside. If the visitors were observant, they would easily see that the many of the Lakesiders the visiting delegation passed were older, of an age to be retired, or looked to be holders or crafters. A few scattered here and there bore the obvious air of riders but they were vastly outnumbered by the non-riders.

As the group passed into the large doorway into the cavern, their eyesight dimmed briefly as eyes adjusted from bright sunshine to artificial light. There was a strange quality to the light, at least for those unaccustomed to electric lights. Instead of baskets of glows along the walls, a strip of light ran down the center of the corridor, recessed illumination steady and strong, brighter than glows. The group turned off into a large dining hall style cavern, lined with tables and benches; they turned again into a smaller corridor, and then into a good sized conference room. This room was dominated by a large rectangular table surrounded by individual chairs. Tapestries decorated the walls. Another smaller table was along one side of the room, it was set with pitchers of klah and fruit drink, small meatrolls, and pastries. Kalliope smiled at the sight. Jehanna, the headwoman, was a wonder to have pulled everything together so quickly.

Kalliope gestured for the visitor to help themselves. Amari ran over to the table, and prepared a plate for her mother, then went to investigate the satchel which had been placed on the end of the table.