(22.12) On the War Path (see notes)

[Katlyn]

(M'riel, Swift, Seleti, M'cleod, R'bao, D'verado, Dienon. Part 5 of Rebellion, Accusation, and Punishment)

Rukbat was fading fast as four dragons raced across the skies, the seas transitioning from a frozen solid mass to partially iced over, and finally a deep blue as the group made their way southwest. Two Browns, One Bronze, and One Blue flew in an offset-V formation; the Blue in the lead with one Brown on its left flank; the other Brown slightly back and to the right of the Blue with the Bronze bringing up the far-right post. M'riel was looking around at the approaching island chain Mac had told him and the others about, and for once the Weyrleader was grateful for the Raider's knowledge. He was right in appointing Mac as his other Weyrsecond, and effectively putting him charge of this mission once they found Seleti and her Green dragon. He was also counting on R'bao and Serguth to "home in" on Cheyneth's position once the Searchdragon was able to establish contact; M'riel had Oreath order the Blue to pass on the word to Cheyneth: Under *no* circumstances was the Green to give away the fact the rescue party was en route.

M'riel loosened his winter coat as the air grew a little warmer. Underneath was his wherhide cuirass strapped to his torso and back; a pair of matching bracers protected his wrists. Underneath the armor was a dark-colored shirt, and he was wearing similar-colored trousers, and black boots. The Weyrleader's bow and quiver were securely fastened to Oreath's cargo straps, and M'riel remembered to bring along a small container of a black-looking substance which he would use to obscure his face and forearms. Two long knives were held in sheaths on either side of his waist; a throwing knife was tucked away in either boot, and two more knives he kept sheathed at the small of his back. He'd offered to transport Dienon, the Master Guard, as a passenger, and his fellow Guardsman accepted the offer.

{{Oreath, does Serguth have a lock on Cheyneth's position?}} M'riel asked his Bronze.

{{I'll ask. Serguth, Mine wants to know if you've found Cheyneth yet?}} Oreath sent the message to the Blue Searchdragon.

When M’cleod had given the signal that the island chain that he had spoken of was nearing, R’bao had tuned into Serguth’s Search abilities to find Cheyenth and hopefully Seminth as well. Finding both and whether they were together or not would tell a big tale for them. R’bao wore his usual wintry attire, an extra layer over top that would be shed when they landed to allow better movement for the Watchrider should he need it. He only carried his usual beltknife and a dagger on the same hip loaned from Dienon’s weaponry stash, just in case. Really, the bluerider was only there as a look out. While he could not fight very well, nor was he much of a shot with the longbow, he had good eyes and was quiet enough to keep himself and his scrawny blue under cover to see what they could spot for Seleti’s sake.

It was just as Oreath’s words came that the blue picked up on another dragon. Reaching out to it, he found it to be Seminth, lying in wait in a cove on the northern side of a nearby island and so the pair conversed briefly before Serguth returned a response to Oreath. {{I haven’t found Cheyenth, yet, but Seminth is close in a cove to the north of an island. Cheyenth is to his south somewhere and His is with Hers but not as a captive.}} Yes, the blue was confused by those words as Seminth had said that Cheyenth was not the best and that Hers was not well either, but his was perfectly fine.

D’verado’s keen eyes scanned the islands nearing them, catching a distant wisp of smoke far ahead, but also soon, Outlath noted that he had sensed Seminth and told the bronze of his arrival as well as Oreath of his sensory. Being in charge of youngsters had curbed a sense almost akin to a Search dragon’s and so he was not far behind Serguth in finding another dragon. Des was outfitted with his usual weaponry, his hidden arsenal of knives of various lengths and widths hidden about his person when going on such a mission, a dagger exposed on his left thigh. A bow lie securely fastened to Outlath’s straps, several arrows tucked into a flat quiver next to it for the brownrider to carry once they were on foot.

Duncanth flew quietly, dwarfed by Outlath’s size and even more so by Oreath’s. He was as silent as his Rider in the formation and turning into a shadow as evening crept over the land and water. M’cleod had worn his usual garb, his flight jacket stripped of it’s knots for the mission at hand. He had done this before to hold that he was not actually a Rider to find Taenia and Lorina a long while back when Laral had led a group to murdering what he had used to be proud of being. It was just part of his lifestyle that he still clung to. His usual beltknife graced his right hip, a dagger on his left thigh. A knife hid in his right boot lining and another was tucked into his belt at the back. A longbow and a flat quiver full of arrows, well worn and well taken care of, was an easy pull of a cargo strap to untie and sport once they landed.

Dienon sat quietly on Oreath’s back, watching closely for any signs they would need to tell them of Seleti’s whereabouts. Spotting the same wispy smoke that D’verado had, he tapped M’riel’s shoulder and pointed toward the distant twirling rising cloud. “Could be our spot,” he said, making sure M’riel had seen what he had noted. Upon his back was secured a longbow and the same flat quiver as M’cleod’s holding well worn arrows and even some newer ones. Under his thicker coat lie hidden throwing knives as well as his usual beltknife and dagger as well as another hidden knife in his left boot lining.

{Mine, Serguth says Seminth is in a cove on the north side of one of these islands. Cheyneth is somewhere to his south; Seminth's is with Hers but not as a captive?}} Oreath was just as confused as his Blue counterpart, and M'riel frowned as he tried to make sense of the message. Why was Swift with Seleti, but he wasn't being held hostage - she was? That didn't make any sense to the Weyrleader, and Outlath confirmed Seminth was nearby as well. Somehow, the brash young Bronzerider managed to get himself involved in this, and it was likely he was trying to infiltrate the ranks of Seleti's captors. M'riel shook his head over that one. Swift, to the Weyrleader's knowledge, had little infiltration experience. But then an idea started t bounce around inside his head. Wasn't Swift a former Raider, much like several of the others whom served under Mac's leadership? If so, which Raiding clan did the young man hail from? A friendly clan? Or...was it one of the opposing clans?

M'riel had no idea, but he was determined to get to the bottom of things quickly.

Dienon tapped him on the shoulder, snapping the Weyrleader out of his trance-like state, then pointed at a rising wisp of smoke just barely visible on one of the islands ahead, indicating that could be where Seleti was being held, and Swift had to be nearby. M'riel nodded, then issued his orders. {{Oreath, have everyone get low and move fast, then come in from the west and use the setting sun to help hide us from any spotters before we circle back to that island where the smoke is. R'bao will act as our spotter. Mac's got lead once we make landfall.}}

Oreath didn't make a sound, but relayed the orders to the other dragons. {{Serguth, Outlath, Duncanth. Let's drop low and speed up, then head due west. We use the sun to mask our presence, before circling back in to that island where the smoke is coming from. Serguth, Yours will act as a lookout. Duncanth, Yours will be in charge once we make landfall.}}

Once the other three dragons acknowledged the Bronze's orders, the four would bank to the right and down, then moving as quickly as possible towards the setting sun. M'riel made sure to lower his goggles and squinted so he could see where he was going, then at Oreath's next signal the group would circle back and race towards the island, using the sun and their low altitude to help hide them from any potential sentries. No sooner than the four dragons made landfall on the western shore of the island, M'riel removed his goggles and quickly shed his winter coat, then unfastened his riding straps and slid down. He made sure Dienon was safely on the ground, then moved to retrieve his longbow and his quiver from Oreath's cargo straps. Slinging his longbow and quiver over his shoulder, that small container he brought with him was soon in his hand, and the Weyrleader set it on the sand. Kneeling down, M'riel then took out a small mirror, no bigger than the palm of his hand, and started to apply the black substance to his face, forming various lines and curves.

His Bronze spared a glance at him, but since he was aware of the need to maintain silence, he asked a question. {{What's that?}}

{{Camouflage makeup, Oreath. I used to be a sniper. It'll help conceal my presence.}}

{{Oh.}}

M'riel applied more of the camouflage makeup to his forearms, then put the small mirror and makeup container away. He went over to the waters to wash off the black stuff from his fingers, and then walked back to the others. Getting out his spyglass, he showed it to Mac indicating it probably wouldn't hurt for them to do a little reconnaissance, but waited for the strike leader to issue his orders.

Seminth watched from his cove as the four dragons circled in the sky, remaining at his post until his Rider’s call or return. The bronze was slightly excited to see others but understood his Rider’s intentions and forewarned Swift of the arrival of the other four dragons. [[Swift-Mine, Oreath, Duncanth, Outlath, and Serguth are here. Can you get Cheyenth’s free now?]] The glittery dragon had patiently waited and listened to his Rider’s explanations about why Seleti had not been freed just yet. It had only been two days since Swift’s arrival and infiltration to his Clan.

When given the command to head west then come in fast eastward, using the sun as a cover, Serguth relayed it to his Rider and R’bao was somewhat confused. They were striking now? That’s what it seemed like by that order. He just hoped that they were not going to land and be attacked because they came in too close on whoever held Seleti captive. Serguth’s Search senses picked up Cheyenth as they circled back to the destined island and the scrawny blue sent out a message to the younger dragon as he had with Seminth, though Seminth had already told Cheyenth of their arrival. {{Cheyenth, Oreath’s, Duncanth’s, Outlath’s, and I have come to get you and Yours. Don’t give away our arrival,}} the blue cautioned the green. Upon landing, R’bao shed his heavy layer to not sweat so much in the newer warmth of their current location compared to the deep chill of their home island. After dismounting, the Watchrider glanced around before looking to the others for the next plan of action.

Outlath relayed the order to his Rider and it was met with a brief moment of confusion. Just how close to whatever encampment was M’riel planning on getting? Though D’verado was a man of caution before action, he also knew that when dealing with unknown forces that a small level of caution and distance would be best. Once Outlath landed, D’verado shed his winter jacket and released his bow and quiver, dropping to the ground with the ease of a feline, dark green eyes scanning their surroundings closely. The wispy smoke he had seen was off to their southeast, indicating that the hopeful location of Seleti was either inland a bit or along the southern edge of the little island. Voice had not accompanied him on this trip, having gotten the avian to stay with Katlyn with a good deal of persuasion and a slip out of sight as the avian was that attached to him. Looking to M’cleod for the next set of orders, he signed that he had seen smoke to their southeast upon their arrival and descent.

M’cleod listened to Duncanth’s relay and rolled his eyes. They were going to announce themselves quicker than intended with this maneuver if the encampment was within sight of the shoreline of the island that they were headed for. Well, whatever happened, if it be something they were not planning on, he supposed he would have to correct once they landed and he was able to lead. Regardless, Duncanth relayed the concern that his Rider had to Oreath. Once they landed, Mac shed his jacket and dropped to the ground nimbly, his bow and quiver in hand as he slipped them on. Looking to the others for any sightings of any threats and satisfied that there had been none, he nodded to Des’s signals. Though he found M’riel’s camouflage strange, the former Raider dismissed it. Let him do what he wished with his appearance. They would not know of its uses until they knew what they were up against. Taking the spyglass from M’riel, the brown rider glanced it over before looking at the rest of the group. It really was not going to help them just yet.

Dienon kept an eye on the wisp of smoke, watching as it trailed nearly invisible from the treetops. Someone knew how to make a near smokeless fire which was sometimes quite hard to do. When they landed, Dienon was quick to dismount, shedding his jacket and a woolen long-sleeved tunic to be only in a thin long-sleeved tunic.

“First, we’re gonna head fer the smoke Des saw,” M‘cleod began. “M’riel, in case we’re dealin’ with unfriendlies, don’t use honored names. It’s easier if ‘ey don’t figure us ta be Riders right off. R’bao, ya’ll shadow us uphill to catch any’un before we see ‘em. Des, I think yer eyes’re best, so ya’ll lead us toward the smoke. Dienon, ‘Riel, ya’ two’ll flank Des as lookouts, but stay back a length or two. He knows what he’s doin’ an’ won’t let us down. I’ll trail Des ‘tween you two. Any questions?” he inquired of the small group.

The green's immediate reaction to Serguth's voice almost echoed the reaction she had had when Seminth had arrived a few days before. She immediately quieted down at the cautionary warning, not having gotten riled up enough to attract any attention from the nearby raiders. She passed the message onto her rider who sighed. She had been getting more and more annoyed at Swift with each passing candlemark. He had said he would get her out that first night he had been there, but he hadn't and here here she was two days later, bruised, tired, and hungry, and her green not fairing too well in the realm of being fed either. These raiders didn't care of the pair died in the end, they just wanted to know where the others were, and she wasn't about to tell them.

M'riel had his reasons for coming in low and fast from the west, using the sun to help hide their approach. Even though Rukbat was low on the horizon, even someone with enough intelligence - even barely above that of a wherry - knew that staring directly into the sun was harsh on the eyes. Stare into it long enough, and eventually it would cause blindness. M'riel also had chosen the western shore as their landing zone as it put his group roughly 1,200 yards to the northwest of that smoke column, and there was plenty of dense foliage and woods to further aid in concealing their presence. At the very least, however, it would more-or-less give the group a straight run at the camp, IF one followed the main trail.

The Weyrleader, even though he wasn't the one in charge of this mission, had spent many Turns in the Guards, but what very few knew about him was he had trained specifically as a marksman and sniper. The camouflage paint would make it much more difficult for anyone to see his skin, and the dark-colored wherhide cuirass only served to make it even harder to be noticed. He silently handed out two pitch-covered arrows to Dienon, and two more to Des, but when he offered them to Mac, the Brownrider refused. M'riel wasn't going to argue with him, but simply shrugged. Mac instructed him not to use honorific names, and the former Guardsman nodded. R'bao was sent to act as a lookout, using the hill as his station; Des would be on point, with Dienon and M'riel flanking him on either side. Mac would bring up the rear. The Weyrleader didn't have any questions, and when Mac gave the signal to move, M'riel took the right flanking position about thirty-five yards from Des' position, and within moments disappeared into the woods without a trace.

M'riel made sure to keep Des within his peripheral vision, moving only when the breeze stirred and stopped when it died down. He made sure to move cautiously as to not disturb any of the underbrush or twigs, gliding through the woods like the legendary wraiths of old. Not a single trace could be detected of his passage...but he made sure to maintain his mental link with his dragon. Just to keep Mac appraised of his position, M'riel had Oreath relay silent messages to Duncanth every so often, letting the Brownrider know he was keeping the thirty-five yard distance from Des, and so far he hadn't encountered anything.

After travelling for what he estimated to be about six hundred yards from the landing site, M'riel heard voices nearby. He paused and immediately crouched, keeping his bow at the ready but didn't notch an arrow yet. Listening intently, he had Oreath send the warning to Duncanth and Outlath. {{Trouble...}}

Once everyone had agreed and were ready, the party began with R’bao twenty yards uphill and just ahead of D’verado with Dienon at the brownrider’s left flank and M’cleod trailing his fellow’s lead, slightly to the right of the Assistant WeyrlingMaster’s path. The moving was slow as R’bao had not the silent skills that the three Raiders of the small party had, but they moved in tandem with their lookout, moving when the breeze stirred and stopping when it did.

A message from Serguth to the other three dragons came at the same time as Oreath’s message: {{Four ahead, spread out and none too cautious.}} R’bao stopped and crouched down where he was, hoping that he could remain hidden from the rough looking crew heading in the opposite direction that he had gone.

“Ha! She’ll die afore she tells us where the shardin’ Weyr’s at. Keekair wants ta know where Swift’s always Faranth runnin’ off to,” one of the men approaching said to his fellow, twirling a throwing knife between his fingers. “Hey, Leran! Catch!” he shouted, tossing the knife toward one of his comrades further away, swinging idly on low hung branches in his boredom. The knife struck home in the trunk of a tree just where he had been.

“Yarrol! Ya’ know I can’t catch yer knives!” he shouted, pulling the blade from the tree and moving to throw it back at the other, but something stopped him in his motion, turning quickly to his right and searching the foliage both at ground level and in low lying branches. He had caught the scent of the same oil that the green dragon emitted a few days prior, the odor very faint now as she had not been tended since they had caught her and her Rider.

The weyrfolk moving through the wooded area all stopped when the three Raiders took on a wary stance, a whistle imitating an avian giving away D’verado’s direction more than the others, but the three Raiders were joined by a fourth that began to move toward the direction Leran was headed. The third one headed for D’verado, spotting the lighter hair of the brownrider before charging for him, a tomahawk coming into view in his left hand. A mere moment later as D’verado rose to meet his attacker, an arrow whistled past him from behind, a gift from M’cleod’s quick hand as it imbedded in the Raider’s right shoulder, spinning the man away from his target enough for D’verado to move quickly to subdue him with a dagger knicking blood from his throat, a firm arm forcing the man tight against him, somewhere in the spin and pin removing the tomahawk from the man‘s fist. “Got a cute lil’ blonde gal in yer midsts?” he inquired in his whispery hoarse voice.

Leran was searching the foliage and low-lying branches, trying to figure out where that scent was coming from. M'riel faded into the shrubs, keeping his breath silent, keeping an eye on the Raider whom was kicking at the undergrowth as if trying to spook something. Out of the corner of his eye, he turned as one of his companions started to charge towards D'verado, whom by now was rising to meet the oncoming attack; an arrow zipped past D'verado and embedded itself into his shoulder. Leran shouted a curse and started to head towards Mac and D'verado, and the others were closing in on the party. M'riel didn't waste anytime, quickly notching an arrow and rising to his feet, taking aim and pulled back on the bowstring, then let it fly.

Leran stopped dead in his tracks and let out a cry of pain, then looked down as a blood-covered arrowhead was sticking through his chest. He looked up slowly at his two remaining companions, then faltered and collapsed. By now M'riel was already on the move, not making a single sound as his long Turns of experience allowed him to move swiftly and silently through the foliage, homing in on his next targets whom by now were closing in on Mac and on Dienon. The other two were caught flat-footed. One of their fellow Raiders was injured and pinned down, one had fallen and his attacker was nowhere to be seen nor heard.

"Shardin' wraith!" one Raider cursed, just loud enough to give away his position to Mac. "Where is he?"

"I don't know!" shouted the other, giving away his position to Dienon.

While D’verado tried to force an answer out of his captive, M’cleod moved past him to tackle the third in the party that was honing in on them. Yarrol, the shouts had been, told him a name that was foreign to him, and as he met the man, he dodged a blade to his face, spinning away from the man’s armed side to slip behind him. Yarrol moved quickly to counter, pulling another blade into view and attempting a swinging stab at the former Raider as he tried to focus in on him. The blade caught nothing but clothing as Mac met the swing with a blade of his own, catching the quick smaller man on the arm before dancing back a pace or two to see his next attack.

The fourth one now seen was quickly subdued by an arrow from Dienon, the big burly man moving with such quickness and agility to finish off the Raider with a few deft jabs of his dagger in all the right vital places to ensure that the man would not live. “Mac, left back!” the big Guard called to his comrade, seeing an opening for his smaller Clansman.

M’cleod heard Dienon’s words and stepped back before diving to his left in a slight crouch, finding an opening at the quick Yarrol’s lower back where he stabbed quickly before standing fully and his knife cutting a deep slit in the man’s neck where a vital artery would be severed. After the man dropped, the brownrider turned him over with his foot and saw a tattoo that he never liked seeing. “Dragonkillers,” he spoke loud enough for the others to hear, Duncanth relaying the message to Serguth for R’bao to know.

After gaining no answer at all to his question, D’verado finished his captive with a quick movement of his dagger across the man’s throat, tossing the limp form to the ground once the deed was done and looking about to see if any survived. No answer had been enough to tell him that Seleti was indeed with the man’s encampment. The word that M’cleod spoke ran his blood cold, making him want to find Seleti that much quicker.

“Let’s move on,” M’cleod ordered, seeing that they had gotten their foes between them. They all were soon moving again and encountered no further patrols as they found the encampment, slipping closer as silently as possible to find out where Seleti and Swift were before their next moves.

What they beheld before them was confusing yet familiar to two members of the rescue group: Swift, dressed in an unusual manner, conversing with four others, two of which were eerily similar in appearance to the young bronzerider, and the tones were far from civil. Off a short distance from them was Seleti on the ground, bound and only able to watch as she did not look to be in the best of health. Another distance further from her lay a netted green dragon, hinting on gray with her state of health.

Though they were not quite close enough to hear the heated words between Swift and the others, the scene swiftly changed to more than just words as one of the similar looking men lunged at Swift with the flash of a blade. The resulting actions ended in the two on the ground, Swift with his own blade in view, the pair kicking, kneeing, elbowing, punching, and swiping at each other as they tussled on the ground in their arguments, a distant brassy bellow echoing through the woods from behind them.

M’cleod and D’verado tensed in tandem with each other, but M’cleod held his fist up to stall any movements from the other four in their party. It was best to see the results of this scuffle to have a better idea on what they were going to do. Several moments later, Swift rose from the ground, blood running down his face from a gash on his forehead and a few other blood-splotched places that were hard to tell if they were his blood or the other’s, blood dripping from his blade, gripped tightly in his left hand. As the others moved in to attack, M’cleod gave the signal for M’riel to release a flame arrow (that he had told him to ready while Swift and the other wrestled through their dragons) at a supply cart several paces away from the group that was about to close in on Swift. Hopefully it would draw at least one or two away from Swift and they could sweep in quickly to release Seleti as well as Cheyenth and get Swift out of there as well.

"Dragonkillers."

M'riel had readied an arrow to take down one of the other two scouts, but a warning from Dienon had alerted Mac to his foe's presence, and the Brown rider dropped him with a deep slit to the neck. Once the word was spoken, M'riel held his tongue. Seleti was now in clear danger, and it was vital she and Cheyneth be rescued as quickly as possible. Swift, on the other hand, gave the Weyrleader pause for concern. If it was this particular group of Raiders that the brash young Bronze rider had ties to, and now had gone back to them either under false pretenses or because it was he wanted to send a clear message to M'riel...

Well, that message was received loud and clear. And M'riel was about to send back one of his own. He had no tolerance what-so-ever for traitors, even for those whom had formerly served under his leadership. Once you threw in your lot with the enemy, it was considered an act of treason. Even though technically Izuko wasn't in a state of war, M'riel would see to it that Swift and any others of his clan whom were taken prisoner would be thoroughly interrogated. He didn't believe in torturing prisoners just to get vital information from them, but Swift would have a *lot* of explaining to do once they returned home.

M'riel resumed his silent journey through the woods after Mac gave the order to move out, and it wasn't long before the rescue party came upon the campsite. The light was nearly dim now, but the fires proved to be enough illumination for the Riders to witness something rather unusual. Swift was present, along with four unidentified persons. All of them were dressed nearly identical, but two of them bore remarkable similarities to the young Bronze rider. Not too far was Seleti; she was laying on the ground, her hands and legs bound, her mouth gagged; only her sense of vision was afforded to her. Beyond was Cheyneth, her usual green color shading towards gray.

M'riel took note of a supply cart several paces from where Swift and his fellows were bickering; nearby were two or three more carts. All of them dilapidated, all of them built from wood that was a little *too* dry. Mac silently signaled to the former Guardsman to ready a pitch-covered arrow, and it didn't take long for the Weyrleader to ready his flint and a small knife. Two quick strikes later, and the pitch caught fire. M'riel kept the arrow low and out of view, the encroaching darkness providing him a little more cover. He tensed as Swift locked blades with one of the Raiders, and within moments the young Bronze rider rose to his feet the victor, albeit the worse for wear. The other three moved in for the kill, and Mac gave the hand signal which was echoed through Oreath's mental relay from Duncanth:

Now.

"Fire in the hole," M'riel said softly, raising his bow and taking aim at the center cart, the very same one Mac had designated as the target. M'riel drew back the bowstring and let it fly, the flaming arrow arcing brightly through the skies. Everyone who was outside would notice the fireball soar through the air, their attention distracted and focused as their eyes followed it down...

...only for everyone in the camp to hit the deck as the cart practically exploded into flaming debris, the unusually dry wood acting as a perfect catalyst. Some of the flaming debris landed on the other carts in the immediate vicinity, and they, too, caught on fire. A few of the Raiders were knocked down by the shockwave, while shouts of alarm quickly spread throughout the camp: Get those fires put out before they spread to the tents!

M'riel notched a standard arrow and raised his bow again, holding his fire. He wouldn't shoot again until Mac gave the order, but took careful aim on one of the Dragonkillers nearest Swift.

As the cart exploded, only two of the Raiders going for Swift bothered to look. The third, the other in similarity to the young bronzerider, engaged in combat between himself and Swift while the other two ran to douse the flames on the nearest cart. Another bellowing roar echoed, but closer now as Swift had called on his bronze to start moving in. There was no time like now to get Seleti out of there even though the former Raider was busy dueling his eldest brother present.

Hearing the bronze’s bellow, M’cleod knew that the dragon had moved closer which meant that Swift was either injured worse or had called the big dragon in. Either way, now was the time to start acting. A mental note went through his brown to R’bao’s blue to tell the Watchrider to stay hidden as he wished, knowing that he lacked any real combat experience compared to the rest of them. To the rest, he spoke allowed as they were not spread out as greatly as when they had moved through the woods. “Git Seleti an’ Swift an’ git out. No dallyin’ an’ no gettin’ killed!” With that, the brown rider moved out of hiding and sprinted for the encampment to get to Swift’s situation first. Someone else could head for Seleti. Headed off by a Raider that was not tending the burning carts, he engaged in combat with him and found one that was just as quick as the one that he had ended in the woods on their way there.

Dienon headed for Seleti, bowling any foe over that got in the big man’s way, D’verado heading for Cheyenth to try to get her free so that they could get her airborne and away from her captors.

R’bao watched from his hiding place, watching for anyone that headed for his comrades that they might not be seeing as the other four moved out from the woodline to retrieve Swift, Seleti, and Cheyenth.

M'riel watched as two of the Raiders nearest Swift took off in their attempt to put out the fire, but the Weyrleader watched with grim satisfaction as three more carts burst into flames. He drew a bead on a Raider that was passing near him, then let the arrow fly. It whistled through the air, arrowhead spinning in a tight spiral, and impacted the unlucky fellow, instantly dropping him to the ground. One of his comrades running with him stopped to check on him, only to be hit by an arrow himself. It punched through his chest, killing him almost instantaneously. Discarding his bow and unslinging his quiver, M'riel unsheathed his twin long knives and charged into the fray. Mac was heading towards Swift, but was quickly intercepted by a Raider; Dienon was making his way for Seleti while D'verado was trying to reach Cheyneth.

One of the Raiders who'd been knocked over by Dienon rose to his feet, only to be sent sprawling as M'riel hit him from behind with a leaping kick directly to his back. The Weyrleader quickly jumped on the hapless man, driving both blades into the struggling Raider. A cry of pain and the man lay still, blood seeping from where M'riel had ruptured a vital organ. But no sooner than he got to his feet, M'riel felt something hit him from behind. He yelped and stumbled to the ground, losing his twin knives in the process. He then tried to get to his knees and reach for the arrow sticking out of his left shoulder. Gritting his teeth, the Weyrleader managed to extract the arrow but felt the unmistakable touch of cold steel pressed against his throat. He froze.

"Well now, ain't you a pretty thin'," came the rattling voice. "Up on yer feet. Slowly. An' don' try anythin' foolish. We got ya covered."

M'riel did as he was told, rising slowly to his feet. He felt a hand reach underneath the back of his wherhide cuirass, and he knew his two knives had been taken from him. "Turn aroun'," came the order. He did so, and saw two Raiders whom survived the initial attack. One had a long knife and was now pointing the tip directly at his chest, while the other was about eight or nine feet away with arrow drawn and ready to shoot. "If ya came fer yer frien', we got news fer ya. You ain't leavin'. Yer one of them Riders' ain't ya? You look like one of 'em." The Raider with the knife was practically mocking M'riel now, moving his wrist this way and that as if trying to make his blade dance. "Get clear, Lanam, so I can shoot 'im. We kill 'im an' leave 'im here fer the others to fin' him," the Raider with the bow said, taking careful aim. "No, I say we bring 'im with us, he..." Lanam never had a chance to finish his statement. No sooner than his attention was diverted, M'riel moved as quickly as he could, hitting Lanam's wrist hard to force him to drop his blade and grabbed him by the neck, hauling him in front to act as a human shield. Lanam screamed in surprise, then as the arrow hit him in the chest he gave a gurgle and slowly collapsed to the ground.

The archer tried to draw another arrow but it was too late. M'riel picked up Lanam's knife and quickly rushed the Raider, shoving the steel in between the fourth and fifth rib. The man gave a gasp as he realized just how serious the wound was, and felt his life drain away. "That's for kidnapping one of my Riders," the Weyrleader said softly yet coldly. "See you in Between, you son of a Bitran." The Raider fell over, and M'riel retrieved the knives he'd lost before assessing the situation. He knew Mac could hold his own; Dienon likewise as he reached Seleti. D'verado, on the other hand, would probably need some help. Wincing but trying to shunt the pain in his left shoulder, the Weyrleader struggled to make his way to his fellow Rider.

{{Mine? Are you alright?}} Oreath could be heard in his mind, and the Bronze was worried.

{{Took an arrow to the left shoulder. If Mac gives the order for you and the others to move in, do so. Tell Serguth to have R'bao retreive my bow and quiver.}}

Seleti had watched the entire thing start to unfold from the moment that her green informed her of the new group of riders arriving at the island. It'd been a quiet scenario at first, the group having to make its way towards the encampent. What hadn't been quiet was Swift's interaction with the raiders she now knew to be his family. One of them had finally figured out that something with the bronzerider wasn't quite right, and they had started arguing, particularly over what to do with her. For all that she was angry at Swift for not having told her the truth of his bringing up from the get go, especially after they had become a thing, she could only be grateful that he was at least trying to stave off what was obviously a decision rapidly turning towards her and Cheyenth's deaths at the hands of the raiders. And for all they had decided to tie her up when they had hauled her out of the tent she had been kept in the last few days, she was slowly working on getting the knot undone. No one could tie a knot quite as well as the clans that dominated the rivers and the seas.

What little calm existed in the situation quickly disappeared when the cart exploded in flames. It startled her and her green, who gave an alarmed bulge before her rider was able to calm her down to a low rumbling growl. And then things started happening almost more quickly than she could follow. Swift was fighting with his family suddenly, for they had finally come to the conclusion he was a rider too, Des was suddenly headed towards her green, and thankfully it was him and not another of the riders. Cheyenth would calm down enough for him to get her free so she could get airborne. And then Dienon was at her side, helping her get the rest of the way free. She missed the fact that Mac had headed towards Swift and M'riel had gotten hurt in his own confrontation before moving to help Swift, and she didn't notice R'bao being there at all. Her mind was only on her green, her self, and her mate.

Once free, she quickly got to her feet, though almost too quickly so that Dienon would have to steady her. But once she was good on her feet, she turned towards the conflict going on with Swift. Yes, there were a few other raiders still focused on trying to put the fire out, but that wasn't nearly as important as the bronzerider was, at least not in her opinion. As far as she was concerned, the only one who had a right to even lay a finger on him was her. So, stable and on her feet, she said to Dienon, "Go help Des. I want her airborne now!" before heading back to the tent she had been kept in quickly.

Rather, as quickly as she could. Whether the guard would actually listen to her or not, she didn't know, but she knew what she was going for in that tent. She had, after all, paid careful attention as to what was kept where, and she knew where one of the raiders had placed down a bow and a few arrows before she had been drug outside just a bit before. Focused solely on Swift, she knew who to target. An arrow was placed properly and she let it loose to hit one of the raiders just as Mac and M'riel got to Swift to help him out.

Swift had been focused on his confrontation with his other brother and was only barely keeping ahead of his older sibling. As soon as he would turn to dodge one thing, someone else came at him from his undefended side. He was going to be one sore Rider by the time all this was said and done. A familiar and almost comforting voice touched his ears and he smiled as an arrow dropped his brother and M’cleod made short work of the other, so focused the Raider had been on Swift that he had not seen the swift and deadly approach of M’cleod, the brownrider saying, “Help’s arrived,” as he all but caught Swift who took a step that ended in a stumble from a wound to his left knee. Leaning momentarily on the former Raider, the young bronzerider smiled briefly before finding his balance again and looking in the arrow’s direction, glad to see Seleti free from her bindings.

“Semi’s almost here,” he said of his dragon, only to be quickly told to send the bronze toward the others, but the glittery dragon was already descending on the encampment with a territorial roar as he blew over tents and knocked D’verado into Cheyenth on his landing, the gust of his great wings making any unsuspecting person struggle for balance within half a length of himself. The great dragon snarled at an approaching person he did not know and snapped in warning to keep the Raider away from his mate, whirling eyes orange-red in his protectiveness.
~~~

M’cleod had gotten to Swift just as an arrow dropped one of his foes, taking out the other from behind with a quick leap and a jab through the man’s left shoulder just below the shoulder blade to make the dagger drive clean through the man’s flesh. “Help’s arrived,” he said with an amused smile to the young Rider. Sure he had been furious with the other former Raider when he had interpreted his tattoo when Seminth was still a Weyrling, but the brown rider had made peace with Swift and now regarded the young man on the same level as himself, a piece of information that remained off the records for the safety of not only Swift, but also of their futures, something he had failed to reiterate to M’riel when the future bronzerider had taken over Weyrleader.

“Send Seminth away to the others,” he ordered, but his command went unheeded as he heard the roar and saw the dusty gust of the dragon’s wings as the large bronze landed nearest Cheyenth to protect her while they finished freeing her from her nettings. “C’mon, let’s help Seleti,” he said after he knew that his order was not carried out quickly enough and he started for the greenrider by the tent, keeping a close eye for any more Raiders coming for them. If they had not killed all of them, they sure had gotten most of them. “Sel, let’s go!” he called out to the greenrider, waving her toward them and in a round about way, toward Cheyenth and Seminth.
~~~

Dienon flung another Raider away from him, sending them sprawling several paces from his force and quickly finished his aim toward Seleti’s prone form. Smiling in greeting to her, he was quick to cut her bindings that she had yet to get completely loose, then steadied the small young woman as she stood, concern underlying in his dark green eyes, but her next words were sent to war in his mind. On one hand, he wanted to stay by her side to ensure her safety, but on the other, he knew the importance of freeing her dragon as well. After only a moment’s argument as he watched Seleti head for a tent, he decided that helping with the green would be the better move. Seleti could handle herself while alert and on her feet.

Running to the distressed green, he was a few paces from D’verado when the greater form of Seminth descended on the immediate vicinity, a rather fearsome looking dragon and had been knocked against the gray-tinged green hide in mirror of D’verado, though not nearly as hard as his weight allowed him an advantage against the bronze’s wind. He hurried to cut at ropes to release the net further while D’verado resumed his climb on the green to cut the hazardous weaves near her wings.
~~~

D’verado had reached Cheyenth and held his hands up in surrender to her. “Easy, Chey, I’m only ’elpin’,” his hoarse voice whispered. Somehow, the dragons were able to hear him without the aid of Voice and he was ever glad for their superior senses. Once she settled, the brownrider quickly set to work in cutting the net from its groundings. Once one side was free, he started a careful climb up the dragon’s side to get the net off her ridges and wings so that she could get in the air and get out of there. Seminth’s arrival threw him against her and nearly to the ground, but a deft catch of a rope brought him back into action as quickly as he had been inadvertently knocked from it.
~~~

R’bao watched helplessly from his hidden position, brown eyes trying to keep track of each of his comrades, but unable to help much. He tried to warn M’riel of an attack from behind, but the Raiders were far too quick in jumping the Weyrleader for him to be of much use. When Serguth sent a message to have him retrieve the bronzerider’s bow and arrows, the watchrider decided that he should start moving toward M’riel’s last hidden position since everyone looked to be getting along well enough.

M'riel stumbled to the ground as the blast of air created by Seminth's wings washed over him, flattening tents and pushing D'verado into Cheyneth. He saw the Bronze's orange-red eyes and the bared fangs issue a warning to anyone whom would dare tread near the smaller Green, and the Weyrleader shook his head as he regained his footing and continued his approach. "Seminth, it's only me," M'riel said grimly. "I know you're only being protective of your mate, but let us do our jobs to free her." He winced as he tried to help D'verado, trying his best to block the pain so he could focus on freeing Cheyneth. Shards, but his shoulder was protesting every movement, and it wasn't long before he was sweating profusely. Once the last of the netting was free from the gray-tinged dragon, he stood back and started towards Seleti. "Seleti, let's go home!" he shouted at the Greenrider, then motioned at R'bao as the Watchrider started towards him. Again, the Weyrleader stumbled to the ground as his body refused to cooperate for the moment. {{Are you alright, Mine?}} came the worried voice of the Senior Bronze. {{As soon as I can get some help,}} he thought wryly; hopefully R'bao or one of the others would help him back to his feet and act as a temporary crutch to help get him to his dragon. {{Oreath, as soon as we get home remind me to talk to Shay and Mac both. I want Seminth grounded and Mac to haul Swift into interrogation. Every little bit of information we can extract from him about these Dragonkillers, I want to know about. And Swift is to be placed under heavy guard until further notice.}}

{{You can't be serious...}} Oreath started to reply, but M'riel cut him off. {{I'm serious, old friend. Swift knows something that I don't, and I want to know if his clan was responsible for Igen. I want to know why they were here, whom they're allied with, every travel route they take in between the Holds, *everything*.}}

{{What about Cheyneth's?}}

{{I'm striking the insubordination from her record. But I'm reassigning her to Shay's wing effective immediately.}}

Seleti watched and smiled grimly when she saw her arrow hit its target. The implications of it didn't really hit her at the moment: the fact that she had killed Swift's family member (she wasn't entirely certain still how they were related) and the fact that she, who had only done recon fir her clan and had never actually struck another being to kill, even in her trip up north from the south. These weren't things that she could very well focus on at the moment as she was making sure the only ones still there were the riders. No raiders seemed to be present, and alive.

Cheyenth crooned softly once se realized the ones near her were only trying to free her from her bindings. She would have taken flight immediately once she was free, but Seminth landed near her around the same time and, from what she could tell from her rider, everything seemed to be over. She stretched her wings as far as she could while the riders gathered up near her, her own rider included, before settling down against her bronze mate. ((Mine is very angry with yours,)) the green warned Seminth just as Seleti joined the group of riders at their prompting for them to go home.

She walked up to Swift calmly, almost too calmly in fact, considering what had just gone down in the area. It was a calmness the bronzerider had only seen once or twice before, and one that Des might not even have been completely familiar with coming from her. Inside, she knew this was neither the time, nor the place, but she didn't care. Ignoring the fact that they needed to leave, only for a moment at least, the anger her green had warned his bronze about surfaced in a very well placed swing to the other former raider's jaw. Before he fully recovered, she said, "That's for lying to me," in an almost cold voice and then turned and went to her green, climbing up to leave. Now she was ready to go home.

Seminth settled at M’riel’s words, recognizing the Weyrleader for Oreath’s Rider, but little else. His eyes remained angrily shaded as Cheyenth was being freed. He would help, but in doing so, he might tangle one of the humans helping in the remnants of the netting. [[Cheyenth’s is very angry with you,]] he warned his Rider as things started to settle down from the action that had just consumed the area.

Seminth’s smooth relay had barely touched Swift’s mind when the smaller Rider’s swing landed and sent him to the ground in a briefly disoriented heap. The bronzerider knew that Seleti’s hits hurt from the first day their paths had crossed when she caused him to have issues eating for a few days. Looking up at his mate, his wild green eyes were neither angry or amused, but, if one looked closely enough, apology played in them. Rubbing his jaw a moment, the former Raider touched his tongue to his lip to find fresh blood there and spat it out before getting back to his feet with the aid of the nearest person. “I’m sorry,” was all he muttered as he looked at the others present. M’cleod knew of his past, as did D’verado, but to Dienon, R’bao, and M’riel, his secret past was out in the open. “Let’s git,” he said, stepping away from the others there and heading for his dragon who’s head was nearby Seleti as if trying to make up for his Rider’s foolishness.

R’bao had returned to the small group, having picked up M’riel’s discarded knives along his path. Several Raiders lay dead or dying and the abandoned flaming carts were falling apart little by little from their aged qualities. The few trees that had caught from the explosion had dropped their charred branches, the remaining parts of the limbs glowing from the embers that still consumed them, but otherwise, it looked like the only damage to be done was on that of the Raiders’ encampment. The bluerider helped Swift to his feet after Seleti’s swing and hid his amusement of the smaller Rider’s strength despite her bruised condition. Looking to M’cleod as Swift left him, he asked, “What’s next? It looks too small to bring the dragons here and Seminth’s missing his flight straps.”

D’verado noticed M’riel’s condition perhaps as much as the others did, his green eyes taking in the Weyrleader in concern. His hands motioned to the man, asking, ‘Are you alright to ride?’ but whether his motions were noted or not, he was unsure as the bronzerider fell to his knees yet again. He moved to aid the older man, but Dienon stepped up to him to help him and so the Assistant WeyrlingMaster stepped back, watching as Seleti landed a surprisingly hard hit on Swift, then headed off to her dragon. He would have to have a little talk with her later to set her mind at ease when all was said and done from this little escapade.

M’cleod sighed as he glanced about the area. “We can’t bring all the dragons here. There’s not enough room. We’ll use a few ropes from that net to get an extra rider or two on Seminth. R’bao, could you have Serguth come in and take a few riders?” he said, seeing the states of the little group. Watching as Dienon hauled M’riel to his feet, the brownrider gave the bronze rider a curious glance but said nothing on his condition. He was a prideful man from what he had gathered of the future-born Rider and knew that any words on his condition would probably not be the best of ideas. “Let’s get everyone to the beach and then we’ll assess everyone there before we head home,” he said, still maintaining control of what was going on. There was no way that Betweening was an option for half of their party.

Dienon stepped back from Cheyenth once she was freed and looked at the others of the group to see what the next move was to be. When M’riel collapsed more than once, the Guard pulled him to his feet and slung him over his shoulder. “I’ll walk back. Between ya’ll and three dragons, ya’ can get back to the beach.” After his words were acknowledged, the Guardsman proceeded in his intended direction, his pace much quicker than that of when they worked their way toward the now smoking encampment.

[Katlyn]

~Back at the beach~

Swift had briefly stopped to drop off his passengers, then proceeded to the cove that Seminth had been hiding in the past few days to retrieve his gear and riding straps, taking a quick detour back to the smoking campsite to retrieve his pack from there before returning to the beach that the group had initially landed at. By then, everyone was sorted on how they were heading home and the young bronzerider was still trying to figure out just how he was going to tell Seleti his whole mess of a life story before they had met so long ago.

Dienon had patched up M’riel enough for their trip home and had decided on helping the Weyrleader up onto his dragon and helping him strap in before strapping himself in.

M’cleod made certain that Seleti and Cheyenth were fit enough for the trip to their home Weyr, loaning the greenrider his heavier jacket to keep her warm against the chill. He would manage until he got back and found a spare blanket or something at the Infirmary until he returned to his weyr or Seleti returned his jacket.

R’bao packed the weapons that he had retrieved onto Serguth before mounting up and preparing for the trip back to the chill of Izuko Island.

D’verado kept a close eye on Seleti for any problems with her, his gaze drifting toward M’riel now and again in concern. Once everyone seemed ready, they all looked to M’cleod and M’riel for the signal to leave, M’cleod giving it as M’riel was not looking to be the best in shape currently.

M'riel groaned as Dienon hauled him over his shoulder, but otherwise managed to grunt a "No" when asked if he was alright to ride. He didn't say much as the Master Guard carried him back to the beach, and once patched up as best as possible winced as he was helped up onto Oreath. R'bao, as far as he could tell, had gathered the Weyrleader's bow, quivers, and knives; stowing them securely before making the trip back. Mac gave the signal for everyone to depart, and M'riel tapped his Bronze's side twice with his heel. {{Will you be alright, Mine? We can't go Between with you in your current condition,}} Oreath crooned at his Rider. {{I'll be fine, Oreath, once Eodira can take a look at this. But I need you to get Josiath to ground Seminth as soon as we get home.}} It was obvious that in spite of his pain, M'riel was unhappy with Swift. He could only imagine Shayna's reaction upon their return.

Once airborne, Oreath slid neatly into the far-right position of the "V" formation they had flown in. The Bronze would maintain his position in the formation all the way back to Izuko, but both Dragon and Rider knew this whole incident was far from over.

Seleti ignored the apology from Swift, though she had heard it while she walked away from him and to her green. As far as she was concerned, the fact that he hadn't trusted her enough with his past was a very serious issue, and it was going to take her quite a bit of time to get over that. At least, that's how she felt at the moment. She watched in silence as the other riders got M'riel sorted to get back to the beach where their dragons were waiting, wondering why the Weyrleader had chosen to come here after them, with everything she had done before she had taaken off. Truth was, she had decided to head back the day that the raiders had landed on the island, unable to resist the green's presence. And it'd been a day or two before Swift had arrived after that. And still a few more days before the rest of the group had arrived. Honestly, she'd been about to say shard it to her mate and just try to get out on her own, but he had promised her that first night he would get her out, and for all she had been furious at him at the time, she had trusted him enough still that he would do that much.

Once on the beach, she stayed by Cheyenth, watching as Dienon got M'riel patched up enough to head home. She saw Des glance her way a few times, though she chose not to respond. Part of her wanted to respond that she was fine, but her and her green both knew the last few days had certainly taken their toll on her. Even her green, who had been needed to eat when they had intended to leave, was less than brilliant looking. Cheyenth would be taking more than her fair share of a few herdbeasts the moment they got back to their island home, and as far as Seleti was concerned, she'd be heading to her room for sleep after her green had fed and she'd oiled her back up. Anything else she had to do could wait, at least in her opinion. She was somewhat doubting that that was how it would all play out though, once they got back to Izuko. When Mac handed her his jacket, she thanked him quietly, knowing better than to argue against it. And then finally, they were airborne and headed back to Izuko.

The trip back to the Weyr was a quiet one and while along the way, M’cleod expressed his opinions on the immediate order of events once they got back to M’riel via their dragons. Duncanth relayed the message as calmly as his Rider was, although his Rider knew a lot more about this particular situation than M’riel did and therefore presented a small problem. It was not that the former Raider had refused to convey such information to M’riel when he took over Leadership, but it was more the abrupt change in the way things were once the future bronzerider took on the highest rank of the Weyr beneath the Weyrwoman. Plus, there was the matter of Taenia and their twins and Nileod and the brownrider just wanting to be a plain old Rider for a little while. He had yet to argue the fact to M’riel, but in a way, his rank did not eat up as much of his time as he had thought it would. Sure he would have to keep up on the gossips about the Weyr to better serve his position, but that was something of an entirely different matter. Sighing as the dark form of island loomed into view in front of them, the Rider relayed his ideas to his Weyrleader through Duncanth.

Duncanth spared a glance toward the bronze at his flank and followed through with his Rider’s wishes, saying politely, [[Mac-Mine suggests that we all go to the Infirmary first as Yours, Cheyenth’s, and Seminth’s need some Healer attention as soon as possible. Though this mission’s ended it’s worst, it’s now Yours’ call on what we should do next. Mine knows what he’s doing, but I won’t press,]] the dark brown spoke, his form barely a shadow against the darkened sky.

{{Mine will need some Healer attention, as no doubt the others likewise,}} Oreath confirmed Duncanth's suggestion, {{Yet Mine feels there is some unfinished business, as he would put it, once we get home.}} The Senior Bronze would normally be forthcoming, but something cautioned the dragon to use prudence should he be pressed by the other dragons. He knew his Rider wasn't in the best of moods, and could only guess as to how badly it would go once everyone made it safely. M'riel likewise kept silent, shivering as soon as the cold air hit him in spite of his heavy coat. He still was in shock and in disbelief as his mind went over the mission. A group of four scouts, all of them bearing the mark of an empty bowl on their wrist. Seeing Swift conversing with similarly-dressed Raiders, only to discover that he, too, bore the same tattoo. How long had Seleti been held there, and Swift unable to do anything to free her before the rescue group arrived? Was he secretly trying to find a way to set his weyrmate free? Or did he have an ulterior motive in mind; to keep her hostage against her will until he was given the order to end her life? M'riel had no idea, but either way the younger Bronzerider was going to be charged with abandonment of his duties, and with treason. He didn't know how it was done when Mac was still in charge, but one thing was for sure - you *never* went anywhere without letting someone know about it first.

As for charging Swift with treason, once the Raiders had been identified as dragonkillers, it left little doubt in M'riel's mind that it was Swift's clan whom may have been responsible for poisoning the water at Igen. M'riel remembered reading bits and pieces of the Weyr's history, and once he ascended to the Weyrleadership he vowed that he would conduct a full investigation on what happened and why, and try to figure out who was behind it. Swift was the only lead the Weyrleader had, but he'd make Mac formally question the Bronze rider. It was bad enough that Swift's past was never discussed with him, and now that he was Shayna's consort, M'riel wasn't happy that his Weyrsecond wasn't more forthcoming with that information.

Swift *had* to know something, even if the information was old. It would give M'riel something of a starting point to use, but the bigger question remained. Was Swift a double agent, pretending to be loyal to the Weyr but in reality trying to find out M'riel's weaknesses - and give away the secret of Izuko to his former Raiding clan?

Either way, the Weyrleader would find out.

{{Coming up on the Weyr, Mine,}} Oreath's signal jolted M'riel out of his thoughts. {{Have everyone descend into the Bowl, Oreath. And get Shayna for me.}} The Weyrleader spared a glance at Mac, then at Swift, then finally looked ahead at the looming cliff walls that marked the location of Izuko.

{{Lady Josiath,}} Oreath reached out to his mate. {{Mine wishes to meet Lady Shayna in the Bowl. We have a situation that needs to be resolved quickly.}}

Shayna had been pacing anxiously since M'riel had left with the others to find Seleti. She had wanted to go, but both Ardalae and Kolteya had made valid points. She had the Weyr and her children to think about. Now though she couldn't stop worrying. They had been gone a long time and Josiath hadn't been able to get in touch with Oreath. Just what was going on? Hya had stopped by at some point in time to collect Sanyara and take her to the baby's grandparents. Shayna barely even remembered that as she had been too busy worrying. She hadn't even listened to Hya as her sister had tried to comfort her. There would be no relaxing for her until the others were back safely.

Josiath looked up from her ledge when Oreath spoke to her. }:I will tell her,:{ she informed her mate. }:Shayna, M'riel wants you in the Bowl,:{ the gold said, actually starting to use the bronze rider's name.

Shayna's face paled at those words. Oh no, something was wrong. She could just feel it. She raced out of the weyr, ignoring the slight dizziness that she was feeling. She knew she shouldn't be this active, but she didn't care at the moment. M'riel wouldn't ask her to come out in this weather unless there was something wrong. Her eyes widened when she saw the dragons landing. "M'riel!" she shouted, racing toward Oreath when she saw that the Weyrleader was injured. She had quickly glanced around for R'bao and had been thankful to see that he seemed unharmed. She just hoped everyone else was as well.

((To Part 6))